Compare commits

..

5 Commits

Author SHA1 Message Date
Dozens B. McCuzzins 487bd79992 📚 docs 2022-10-29 13:32:44 -06:00
Dozens B. McCuzzins 8e0b431a8c 28 2022-10-29 10:07:31 -06:00
Dozens B. McCuzzins bdd3a2550a macros 2022-10-28 20:00:03 -06:00
Dozens B. McCuzzins 2cf0f75c38 27 2022-10-28 10:38:37 -06:00
Dozens B. McCuzzins 4fee76bf3a 26 2022-10-25 10:26:52 -06:00
22 changed files with 1776 additions and 418 deletions

7
LICENSE 100644
View File

@ -0,0 +1,7 @@
Copyright 2022 dozens <dozens@tilde.team>
Nazis and terfs can fuck off.
CC BY NC ND
https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/4.0/
Contact the author for exceptions

View File

@ -1,18 +1,30 @@
note: this readme is spoiler-free. but the contents of this repo are not. if you are one of my current players, proceed at your own peril.
# BASEMENT QUEST
the kids in the basement are gonna play some rpg in on the listserv
the kids in the basement are gonna play some rpg on the listserv
## about
this is an iteration on my usual pandoc static site generator
this is an iteration on my usual pandoc static site generator, with---as usual---just a sprinkling of m4
## order
## getting started
you will need:
- pandoc v2.19.2: markdown to html and rss
- m4 v1.4.6: macros. currently used for generating statistics in `about.md`
- (optional) just v1.4.0: a command runner. optional, because you can just manually run all the commands in the justfile.
read the justfile or run `just` to see what commands are available.
## page order
instead of relying on literally naming files `0001-me-first.md` and `0002-me-second.md` so they are concatenated in the correct order[^order], this repo introduces `basement.order`
in the file, you can `ls ./**/**` to list all files, and then order them in the way that is most pleasing to you
in the file, you can `ls src/**/**` to list all files, and then order them in the way that is most pleasing to you
NOTE: you will of course need to update `basement.order` each time you add a document to the source.
NOTE: you will of course need to update `basement.order` with the new docoument path every time you add a document to the source.
[^order]: this is the strategy i employed in *forest*. it worked okay, but left something to be desired. namely, the flexibility to insert new files at random locations, or to rearrange existing files, without having to rename a bunch of files. i'm not sure this current solution is the best one. but it is an improvement i think. <https://git.tilde.town/dozens/forest/>
@ -20,9 +32,9 @@ NOTE: you will of course need to update `basement.order` each time you add a doc
documents are markdown with yaml frontmatter. they are compiled into:
- html with spoilers for game ref
- 'public' html sans spoilers for players
- rss feed for syndicated documents
- `www/spoilers.html`: html with spoilers for game ref
- `www/index.html`: 'public' html sans spoilers for players
- `www/rss.xml`: rss feed for syndicated documents
## metadata
@ -32,8 +44,8 @@ fields:
- title (string): title of the document. mostly for rss item id
- created (date): date of creation. probably needs to be in `date -R` format.
- updated (date): date of most recent update. mostly of rss. probably needs to be in `date -R` format.
- public[^bool] (bool) (optional): spoiler-free content
- updated (date): date of most recent update. mostly for rss. probably needs to be in `date -R` format.
- public[^bool] (bool) (optional): is this spoiler-free content appropriate for public consumption?
- syndicated[^bool] (bool) (optional): should this document be included in the rss feed?
example:
@ -54,6 +66,14 @@ syndicated: yes
you can define macros in `/macros` and then include them in your documents to be expanded while building.
i arbitrarily adopted a "zxMACRONAME" naming convention because an all-caps macro name is *probably* safe, but is even safer with a random `zx` in front of it.
i arbitrarily adopted a "zxMACRONAME" naming convention with a 'zx' namespace because while an all-caps macro name is *probably* safe, it is even safer with a random `zx` in front of it.
also it gives you good autocompletion if all your macros have the same prefix / namespace.
i just recently learned about m4 frozen state files, and have started using loading state from `macros.m4f`
<https://web.mit.edu/gnu/doc/html/m4_14.html>
there are only marginal improvements to build times because of this; the slowness comes from expensive system calls, not from a massive amount of macros.
but so, if you add macros or make changes to the existing ones, you will need to run `just freeze` prior to rebuilding.

BIN
assets/map.webp 100644

Binary file not shown.

After

Width:  |  Height:  |  Size: 73 KiB

BIN
assetsrc/groll.xcf 100644

Binary file not shown.

View File

@ -1,6 +1,7 @@
src/about.md
src/characters/index.md
src/characters/corraidhin.md
src/characters/gabs.md
src/characters/glarg.md
src/characters/inky.md
src/characters/jarrod.md
@ -20,6 +21,8 @@ src/epistolary/00023.md
src/epistolary/00024.md
src/epistolary/00025.md
src/epistolary/00026.md
src/epistolary/00027.md
src/epistolary/00028.md
src/bestiary/index.md
src/bestiary/aur.md
src/bestiary/blahoblin.md

View File

@ -2,11 +2,15 @@
default:
just --list --unsorted
# only run if changes are made to macros
freeze:
m4 -F macros.m4f macros
# build referee facing html
spoilers:
cat basement.order \
| xargs pandoc -f markdown -t markdown \
| m4 macros - \
| m4 -R macros.m4f - \
| pandoc \
-t html \
--standalone \
@ -19,7 +23,7 @@ spoilers:
public:
cat basement.order \
| xargs -I % pandoc -f markdown -t markdown --template=templates/public.tmpl % \
| m4 macros - \
| m4 -R macros.m4f - \
| pandoc -t html \
--standalone \
--toc \
@ -53,7 +57,7 @@ up:
assets:
rsync -vup assets/* www/
# build public, spoilers, and rss
# build public, spoilers, assets, and rss
build: spoilers public rss assets
# watch for changes
@ -64,7 +68,7 @@ watch:
open:
open www/index.html
# do some writing
# watch and open
dev: open watch
# build and upload

23
macros
View File

@ -1,5 +1,18 @@
changequote(`<!', `!>')dnl
define(<!zxWPM!>, 234)dnl
define(<!zxWORDS!>, <!esyscmd(pandoc -t plain www/index.html | wc -w | sed -e 's/ //g' | tr '\n' ' ')!>)dnl
define(<!zxMINUTES!>, <!esyscmd(expr zxWORDS / zxWPM | tr '\n' ' ')!>)dnl
changequote()dnl
divert(-1)dnl
changequote(`<!', `!>')
# Constants
define(<!zxINBOXPATH!>, <!/Users/cb/Library/Thunderbird/Profiles/o0gmn24o.default-release/ImapMail/imap.tilde.team/INBOX!>)
define(<!zxSTARTDATE!>, <!20220713!>)
define(<!zxWPM!>, <!234!>)
define(<!zxSTRIP!>, <! tr '\n' ' ' | sed -e 's/ //g'!>)
# System Calls
define(<!zxNOMESSAGES!>, <!esyscmd(grep '\[tildepals\] BASEMENT QUEST' zxINBOXPATH | wc -l | zxSTRIP )!>)
define(<!zxWORDS!>, <!esyscmd(pandoc -t plain www/index.html | wc -w | zxSTRIP)!>)
define(<!zxDAYS!>, <!esyscmd(echo "(`gdate +%s` - `gdate +%s -d zxSTARTDATE`) / 86400" | bc | tr '\n' ' ')!>)
define(<!zxMINUTES!>, <!esyscmd(echo "zxWORDS / zxWPM" | bc | zxSTRIP)!>)
define(<!zxPOSTRATE!>, <!esyscmd(echo "scale=2; zxNOMESSAGES / zxDAYS" | bc | zxSTRIP)!>)
changequote()
divert(0)dnl

113
macros.m4f 100644
View File

@ -0,0 +1,113 @@
# This is a frozen state file generated by GNU M4 1.4.6
V1
Q0,1
'
F6,6
substrsubstr
F5,5
ifdefifdef
F6,6
syscmdsyscmd
F8,8
patsubstpatsubst
F4,4
defndefn
F7,7
dumpdefdumpdef
F4,4
evaleval
T11,8
zxSTARTDATE20220713
T12,75
zxNOMESSAGESesyscmd(grep '\[tildepals\] BASEMENT QUEST' zxINBOXPATH | wc -l | zxSTRIP )
F6,6
divnumdivnum
F5,5
indirindir
F5,5
indexindex
F6,6
formatformat
T7,57
zxWORDSesyscmd(pandoc -t plain www/index.html | wc -w | zxSTRIP)
T7,0
__gnu__
F6,6
m4exitm4exit
F9,9
changecomchangecom
T8,0
__unix__
F8,8
translittranslit
F8,8
errprinterrprint
F4,4
decrdecr
F8,8
maketempmaketemp
F7,7
includeinclude
T10,61
zxPOSTRATEesyscmd(echo "scale=2; zxNOMESSAGES / zxDAYS" | bc | zxSTRIP)
F11,11
__program____program__
F6,6
ifelseifelse
F5,5
shiftshift
T5,3
zxWPM234
F6,6
sysvalsysval
T11,94
zxINBOXPATH/Users/cb/Library/Thunderbird/Profiles/o0gmn24o.default-release/ImapMail/imap.tilde.team/INBOX
F8,8
__line____line__
F6,6
m4wrapm4wrap
F7,7
esyscmdesyscmd
F4,4
incrincr
T9,46
zxMINUTESesyscmd(echo "zxWORDS / zxWPM" | bc | zxSTRIP)
F6,6
divertdivert
F3,3
dnldnl
T7,30
zxSTRIP tr '\n' ' ' | sed -e 's/ //g'
F8,8
undivertundivert
F8,8
sincludesinclude
F6,6
definedefine
F8,8
undefineundefine
F6,6
regexpregexp
F9,9
debugfiledebugfile
F7,7
builtinbuiltin
T6,85
zxDAYSesyscmd(echo "(`gdate +%s` - `gdate +%s -d zxSTARTDATE`) / 86400" | bc | tr '\n' ' ')
F8,8
__file____file__
F7,7
pushdefpushdef
F11,11
changequotechangequote
F9,9
debugmodedebugmode
F8,8
traceofftraceoff
F7,7
traceontraceon
F3,3
lenlen
F6,6
popdefpopdef
# End of frozen state file

View File

@ -4,9 +4,13 @@ created: Tue, 26 Jul 2022 20:32:23 -0600
updated: Tue, 26 Jul 2022 20:32:23 -0600
public: yes
---
## About
## Stats
Total length: zxWORDS words / zxMINUTES minutes
Total length: zxWORDS words / zxMINUTES minute read.
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.
@ -15,3 +19,4 @@ This is a game that me and the kids in the basement are playing over email.
You can [read from the beginning](#chapter-1), or jump into the [current story arc](#current-story).
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).

View File

@ -0,0 +1,30 @@
---
title: gabs
created: Sat, 29 Oct 2022 08:41:37 -0600
updated: Sat, 29 Oct 2022 08:41:37 -0600
public: yes
---
### Gabs
<details>
<summary>Bio</summary>
Gabs had a good life. Her little devil children were all grown adults now, and she no longer wanted to toil away running a business. When she initially shuttered her little tavern, she thought she might just retire. She made it two whole years of working in a garden, occasionally seeing grandkids, and reading romance novels. She eventually decided she needed a vacation from her retirement and traveled to a nearby port town. She was sure to find something fun to do there.
Gabs eventually sees Inquire Within, and the smell of debauchery wafting from within made her miss her days gossiping at her tavern. She enters and orders a terrible drink and listens and watches.
Hearing the tales being spun by Mister Three-Fingered, she decides, “Ive never been on a ship, thats something that sounds exciting!”
Half-drunk and eager for something exciting, she will join on the journey!
Gabs is a lanky older half-devil lady who is here to schmooze and have fun!
</details>
- Player: archangelic
- XP: 0
- Skills: Do Anything 1
- Equipment:
Paths:
- Retriever: Contractual Obligation, An Auspicious Start

View File

@ -7,30 +7,81 @@ syndicated: yes
---
### 00026 {#00026}
> Inky slowly approaches Master Corraidhín and taps lightly on the sleeve of his robes to get his attention. Between Inky's tugging and Jarrod's strong, steady hand, they manage to hoist the wizard to his feet.
> Inky slowly approaches Master Corraidhín and taps lightly on the
> sleeve of his robes to get his attention. Between Inky's tugging
> and Jarrod's strong, steady hand, they manage to hoist the wizard
> to his feet.
>
> With a brief glance at the hobbit on the floor then a nod to Jarrod, Inky leaves the nightclub with the wizard. The duck, having emptied the plate of corn chips in record time, follows them shortly after.
> With a brief glance at the hobbit on the floor then a nod to
> Jarrod, Inky leaves the nightclub with the wizard. The duck, having
> emptied the plate of corn chips in record time, follows them
> shortly after.
>
> The trek back to the Milk Market is mostly silent aside from the occasional mutter and stumbling curse, the mage seemingly having fallen asleep as soon as he landed on the cot in the loft. Inky retreats downstairs after leaving a jug of water, a mug and a small packet of kuding leaves beside the bed.
> The trek back to the Milk Market is mostly silent aside from the
> occasional mutter and stumbling curse, the mage seemingly having
> fallen asleep as soon as he landed on the cot in the loft. Inky
> retreats downstairs after leaving a jug of water, a mug and a small
> packet of kuding leaves beside the bed.
>
> Exiting through the back door into the night, Inky finds a dark corner in a dusty abandoned house, and cries.
> Exiting through the back door into the night, Inky finds a dark
> corner in a dusty abandoned house, and cries.
~
> " ... and then the Orc Maiden said: 'That's not my club!'"
>
> The room roars with laughter, and Jarrod moves to the bar and puts a bag of coin down. "Serve drinks until this runs out!" Leaning over the bar to the bartender, Jarrod adds in a whisper: "I owe a favour to Lucy's Basement for the trouble. Call it in when needed."
> The room roars with laughter, and Jarrod moves to the bar and puts
> a bag of coin down. "Serve drinks until this runs out!" Leaning
> over the bar to the bartender, Jarrod adds in a whisper: "I owe a
> favour to Lucy's Basement for the trouble. Call it in when needed."
>
> Jarrod saunters over to Blavin, on the floor in pain. From his pack, Jarrod retrieves a med kit and begins to bandage the wound.
> Jarrod saunters over to Blavin, on the floor in pain. From his
> pack, Jarrod retrieves a med kit and begins to bandage the wound.
>
> As Blavin opens his mouth, likely intending to raise all kinds of hell, Jarrod pulls tight on the bandage he is currently applying, drawing a curse from the hobbit. "Shut it! Let's be clear. You've hired us for a dangerous set of jobs, with the understanding that we're dangerous people. There may be 'accidents' on occasion. You've learned something today, and what's more, you lived to absorb your new wisdom."
> As Blavin opens his mouth, likely intending to raise all kinds of
> hell, Jarrod pulls tight on the bandage he is currently applying,
> drawing a curse from the hobbit. "Shut it! Let's be clear. You've
> hired us for a dangerous set of jobs, with the understanding that
> we're dangerous people. There may be 'accidents' on occasion.
> You've learned something today, and what's more, you lived to
> absorb your new wisdom."
>
> Jarrod grins as he finishes with the bandage. "We will finish what we have started. We're probably the team with the best chances, I'm sure you'll agree. Are you going to back the winning play here? Either way, your decision won't change our plans. I'm sure you know how to take the win."
> Jarrod grins as he finishes with the bandage. "We will finish what
> we have started. We're probably the team with the best chances, I'm
> sure you'll agree. Are you going to back the winning play here?
> Either way, your decision won't change our plans. I'm sure you know
> how to take the win."
>
> Jarrod pats the hobbit's good shoulder in a friendly, but dismissive, way, then turns and saunters out the door, trading small quips with his new (and now very drunk) tavern friends.
> Jarrod pats the hobbit's good shoulder in a friendly, but
> dismissive, way, then turns and saunters out the door, trading
> small quips with his new (and now very drunk) tavern friends.
You are at a small port town on the northern tip of Agendell, just
past the Rana'For Valley. The sun is bright and the wind blowing in
from the Sugrin Sea to the east is cool and salty. The floating
island-city of Vay'Neddas, bridging Agendell and Primora, can be seen
very faintly in the distance hanging in the northern sky.
Your faithful multibeast is carrying all of your supplies and gear,
which were generously provided to you by the indefatigable Blavin
Blandfoot. His arm in a sling, he kept up a constant nervous chatter
as he saw you off on your journey to recover the second Ginnarak
Crystal.
WHAT DO YOU DO
From here, you can easily provision a boat to take you out to the
site of the shipwreck just off the coast.
[www](https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-10/msg00015.html)
Or, optionally, you are very close to the Hartlands. It would be
quite easy to make a quick visit to hemogoblins and pick up some
synthetic blood for your experiments with the Sword of Yam'L.
The sword, incidentally, after finally tasting the blood of "evil",
has remained sated and entirely inert and unresponsive this whole
time.
WHAT DO YOU DO:
1) TO THE SHIPWRECK
2) BLOODQUEST
[www](https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-10/msg00018.html)

View File

@ -0,0 +1,142 @@
---
title: 00027
created: Tue, 25 Oct 2022 14:14:31 -0600
updated: Fri, 28 Oct 2022 10:36:42 -0600
public: yes
syndicated: yes
---
### 00027 {#00027}
> Inky stares down at the package, weighing it on one hand.
>
> It was lighter than it should be given the density of the contents
> within, wrapped in straw and thick brown weight-absorbent parcel
> paper for dry goods. Most of the clientele were merchants and
> cultists from other parts of the continent who ordered pallets to
> be shipped back from the port town and sold to select boutique
> grocers or spilled on altars. Inside was a block of congealed
> synthetic blood shaped like a mud brick, the dark crimson almost
> black under the shop's dim light.
>
> It was sheer happenstance that Inky had found this particular
> supplier. Having been informed heir boat to the shipwreck would not
> arrive for several hours, the members of their merry tea party had
> wandered off to enjoy the local sights while they waited. Inky had
> inquired about the hemogoblins and learned in passing that there
> was a district at the western edge of the town where a smaller
> group had set up warehouses, which would save them a two-day trip
> deep into the Hartlands. The hemogoblins in the district were
> primarily wholesalers, and it had taken some convincing before one
> of the proprietors agreed to sell a block of it, along with
> assurances Inky would purchase exclusively from him next time and
> in larger quantities.
>
> Thin fingers fiddle with the string before the package was set to
> one side.
>
> What were they doing?
>
> If quenching the thirst were so simple, wouldn't any student of
> magic have already thought of it, let alone an experienced
> sysorceror? In all likelihood he had already known the inevitable,
> but was too polite to refuse Inky's funny concoctions. Maybe deep
> down, Inky already knew too, but didn't want to say it out loud.
> That the long feather they thought they had seen among the tea
> leaves was actually a dagger. That they hadn't wanted to admit some
> problems could not be whisked away with some tincture or another.
> That they had failed, again.
>
> They hadn't searched enough for better ingredients to go into the
> pudding, hadn't reacted fast enough after noticing the sword had
> abruptly disappeared, hadn't thrown the large platter of mouldy
> meat the terrified waitress next to them had been holding at
> Blavin's head, or something. The sword had gotten what it demanded,
> and Inky couldn't be angry with it — it had never been subtle about
> what it wanted. Had the blood pudding worsened the effects? Potions
> had never been on Inky's menu. Brewing inks and teas with certain
> mild effects was straightforward enough, but curing chronic
> ailments was firmly in healers' territory and just as bewildering.
> While it may be true nobody could be held to account for the
> actions of another not in full control of themselves, and hardly
> those of a rogue weapon with a mind of its own, sticking their nose
> in other people's affairs was the surest way to get into trouble, a
> fact Inky still has difficulty learning after decades of wandering
> the continent.
>
> Would this substrate even work? Maybe it acted differently for
> cursed objects than coffin sleepers. Having brought it back and now
> aboard the ship, how would they even give it to the wizard? Should
> they wait and made sure Master Corraidhín was truly rested and
> recovered, despite his insistence he was more than fine? Would it
> be an insulting reminder of weakness, despite the wizard having
> proven unusual mental fortitude in staving off the screams for
> blood as long as he had? Was this more of the same, adding to what
> they had (not) done?
>
> After a long moment, Inky rolls the package with the producers'
> leaflet haphazardly in an old sailor's rags still reeking of cheap
> alcohol, and passing by the wizard's empty cabin on the way to the
> deck, places the messy bundle on the floorboards two steps from the
> door. Let the fates decide this one, because Inky's magic 0 ball
> sure doesn't make the best life choices.
Blavin has arranged transportation to the shipwreck ahead of time.
All you have to do is head down to the docks and meet your contact,
Three-Fingered Gerald, at a seedy dive bar named Inquire Within Upon
Everything.
Inquire Within is as eclectic and gaudy as the name would imply. The
bar serves as an extensive and impressive piece of living
documentation, drawing heavily on the port town's cosmopolitan
mixture of culture. Every kind of style, cuisine, decor, and beverage
can be found here mishmashed together irregardless of good taste. Its
contents are encyclopedic and claustrophobic. And yet it is not
without its own peculiar brand of overwhelming, garish charm.
You find Mister Three-Fingered at the bar entertaining his fellow
patrons with a grotesque sleight of hand routine that involves
passing his gold-plated false eye from its socket, to either hand,
inside his mouth, and back with lots of flourish, fanfare, and
misdirection along the way.
He is a merry, boisterous sailor short one eye, half an ear, several
fingers, and---he confesses to you---the heel of his left foot. "It's
why I walk so slow, you see." The other barflies call him "Lucky"
Three-Fingered Gerald. Because a certain kind of man---and Gerald is
one of them---can never have enough nicknames. After you buy him a
drink or three, he escorts you out of Inquire Within and to the slip
where the sloop *Diamond Howler* is docked. Its captain, Enid Barlow,
welcomes you aboard.
Before long, *Diamond Howler* pulls out under the command of Captain
Barlow and First Mate "Lucky" Three-Fingered Gerald. The site isn't
too far off the coast, and you arrive fairly quickly.
"Aye, here she is. The SS RSS." says Captain Barlow mournfully. "You
can't see her from up here. But you rest assured, she's down there,
resting on the seabed. She was the best cargo runner on the Sugrin
back in her day! Distributing goods up and down the coast. Until the
day she disappeared. Nobody knew what happened to her, not for sure.
Still don't. But at least we know where she wound up!"
While the captain reminisces, Three-Fingered Gerald drags a large
water tank across the deck, sloshing water over the edge with each
step. Translucent orb-like jellyfish wobble around and bump into each
other inside the tank, releasing little effervescent bubbles that
fizzle and pop when they collide. "Here we go!" announces Mister
Three-Fingered, depositing the tank of jellies in front of you.
"Sailed through a big bloom of breathing bells just last week, didn't
we! Managed to scoop up a whole bunch of the little suckers. You ever
use a breathing bell before? No? Aw, it's easy! Ya just pull one on
over your head like a hood, and it'll breathe for ya while you're
below the waves!"
WHAT DO YOU DO
NOTE: We just covered a lot of narrative ground. Feel free to react
to anything that happened between arriving at the docks, meeting
Gerald and drinking at Inquire Within, boarding the Diamond Howler,
and sailing to the site of the wreck.
[www](https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-10/msg00020.html)

View File

@ -0,0 +1,127 @@
---
title: 00028
created: Sat, 29 Oct 2022 08:36:51 -0600
updated: Sat, 29 Oct 2022 08:36:51 -0600
public: yes
syndicated: yes
---
### 00028 {#00028}
> ~*a new player enters the chat*~
>
> Gabs had a good life. Her little devil children were all grown
> adults now, and she no longer wanted to toil away running a
> business. When she initially shuttered her little tavern, she
> thought she might just retire. She made it two whole years of
> working in a garden, occasionally seeing grandkids, and reading
> romance novels. She eventually decided she needed a vacation from
> her retirement and traveled to a nearby port town. She was sure to
> find something fun to do there.
>
> Gabs eventually sees Inquire Within, and the smell of debauchery
> wafting from within made her miss her days gossiping at her tavern.
> She enters and orders a terrible drink and listens and watches.
>
> Hearing the tales being spun by Mister Three-Fingered, she decides,
> “Ive never been on a ship, thats something that sounds exciting!”
>
> Half-drunk and eager for something exciting, she will join on the
> journey!
>
> Gabs is a lanky older half-devil lady who is here to schmooze and
> have fun!
~
> Meta: a warm welcome to the latest member of our tea party! This is
> a short post to help smooth the temporal jumps between the recent
> narratives so far. As Inky reaches the deck, they see Gabs
> approaching from the other side of the ship as well, and flashes
> them a grin in greeting. After listening to the captain petering on
> about the glorious days of the now sunken ship below, while
> tinkering with the bell's tentacles — being rewarded with a mild
> zap and marginally better fit for the effort — Inky turns to the
> party. "When you're ready."
You reach into the tank and discover that grabbing a breathing bell
takes some finesse. They are very slippery! But you get the hang of
it and make a ladle out of your hands and scoop one up.
"Okay now!" laughs Three-Fingered Gerald. He gives you a wink, but
it's easy to miss because of the eyepatch. "Don't put it on until
right before you jump. It won't be able to breathe for you until
you're in the water. And this!" he continues, fitting a heavy, padded
vest around your shoulders, "will carry you down." It is a vest of
many pockets, each one holding a small dense sandbag the size of your
hand. "When you're ready to come back up, just start dropping
ballast, right?"
You hop up on the ship railing and pull the breathing bell on over
your head. It immediately contracts and squeezes and hugs your head
like a second skin, and its stubby little tentacles grab hold around
your jawline, and it feels like you have a wet plastic bag clinging
to your face, and you think you might have made a grave mistake.
Resisting the urge to panic, you push off the railing and jump
overboard. You are briefly air born and then profoundly waterbound,
crashing through the surface of the sea into the briny soup below.
The oxygen starts to flow as the breathing bell begins to do its job.
As you sink, you feel as though you are floating through space,
entering another world.
After a while you start to hear voices arguing in the distance. As
you get closer, two large shapes start to come into focus. The first
is a hulking, hairless merbear. Top half (hairless) bear, bottom half
fish. The second figure is a tardigrade the size of a large merbear.
It has eight jointless legs, each tipped with four sharp claws. It
wriggles and wobbles like jelly as it gesticulates.
"No, I am the true Bear of the Sea! I am called a Water Bear, after
all!"
"Hornswoggle and poppycock! It is I who am the Bear of the Sea! I am
half bear after all! You're just some kind of segmented nematode or
something."
The tardigrade quivers with indignation. "I'll have you know I'm a
panarthropod, thank you very much. And this is the ideal physical
body! You may not like it, but this is what peak performance looks
like. I've lived under the polar ice cap, and in a sulfurous
mountaintop hot spring. I've traveled through the vacuum of space to
the moon! Have you ever been to the moon?"
"Why don't you go be the Bear of the Moon then if you like it so
much!"
"You're just as much fish as you are bear, are you sure you're not
the Fish of the Sea?"
"Are you sure you're not the Blob of the Sea, you too many armed bowl
of jelly?"
"Hey! Hey, you there!" The arguing quasi-bears have spotted your slow
descent. "Come, yes, float slowly this way! You must settle an
argument for us! Tell this slightly mammalian fish that I am the true
Bear of the Sea!"
"The Bear of the Sea must be at least 'slightly mammalian' you
egg-laying scientific curiosity! You, tell this cousin of a barnacle
that I---the mighty merbear---am the true Bear of the Sea! Say this
and I will guide and protect you on your journey."
"No! Would you like to visit the moon? Say that I, tardigrade, am
Bear of the Sea and I will introduce you to my moon friends!"
"He had to make friends on the moon because nobody on Urth can stand
him!"
"You're just mean, you know that?"
You are still quite some way from the sea bed, and there is no sight
of the SS RSS.
WHAT DO YOU DO
[www](https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-10/msg00023.html)

View File

@ -6,10 +6,14 @@ public: yes
---
## Geography
<details><summary>Map</summary>![Map](map.webp)</details>
Basmentaria is a group of islands that sits between the eastern Sugrin Sea and the western Saldin Sea.
There is Primora, the northern somewhat banana-shaped island.
There is Primora, the sparsely populated northern somewhat banana-shaped island. The city-state of Illivas, Primoras only densely populated area, sits between Harshwind Glade and the mountains of Kelsun Peak.
And there is Agendell, the southern also slightly banana-shaped island. Its largest city is Vay'Nullar, surrounded by the Gnomelands to the south, and the Tammineaux Forest to the east. Beyond the forest is the Rana'For Valley.
And there Agendell, the southern also slightly banana-shaped island. Its largest city is VayNullar, bordered by the Gnomelands to the south, and the Tammineaux Forest to the east. Beyond the forest is the RanaFor Valley.
The two crescent-moon islands reach toward each other, and in the center is Ginnarak, the small archipelago comprising the Cinderlands, Ashen Vale, the Ember Steppe, and Drakspon Mountain.
The two crescent-moon islands reach toward each other, and in the center is the archipelago of Ginnarak, comprising the Cinderlands, Ashen Vale, the Ember Steppe, and Drakspon Mountain.
[00022](#00022)

View File

@ -19,7 +19,7 @@ We're gonna play this by ear, and cross each bridge only when we get to it.
- Cadence: I'll move the story along roughly once a week. Hopefully that gives everybody time to post something and participate.
- Inclusion over realism: If you disappear for a while and then come back, your character will immediately reappear as though they've been there the whole time. Come and go as you please. Open door policy!
- Open Table / Inclusion over realism: If you disappear for a while and then come back, your character will immediately reappear as though they've been there the whole time. Come and go as you please. Open door policy! Drop in and drop out as you please.
- Linearity: Respond only to the most recent email in the thread. (We might play around with time later, but for now, let's keep it simple.)

View File

@ -11,19 +11,19 @@ NAMES AND NPCS
Upcoming NPCs and/or monsters
- zai-ni
- zeyeknee
- standard ed
- three fingered gerald
- paladin of emacs
- monks of vim
- gnu zealots
- hinderbloke, gnu
- falterchap, gnu
- Hap-n-stance, moon rabbit: <https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Moon_rabbit>
- Cyber Woman With Corn! -- <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>
- [ ] zai-ni
- [ ] zeyeknee
- [ ] standard ed
- [ ] paladin of emacs
- [ ] monks of vim
- [ ] hinderbloke, gnu
- [ ] falterchap, gnu
- [ ] Hap-n-stance, moon rabbit: <https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Moon_rabbit>
- [ ] Cyber Woman With Corn! -- <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>
- [x] gnu zealots
- [x] three fingered gerald
CRYSTALS
@ -48,13 +48,11 @@ todo:
- [ ] mio's (Inky's) Handy Duffer Discette = HD Diskette = better stay away from magnets!!
- [ ] tea omen: abacus, feather, wide building, lynx
- [ ] MidJourney omen: priestly blood, demon
- [ ] ・゜゜・。。・゜゜\_o< QUACK!
- [ ] 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 seating a fourth god
- [ ] 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.
completed:
- [x] ・゜゜・。。・゜゜\_o< QUACK!
- [x] The gang has a rival: the gophers of Retrieval Team 70
</details>

View File

@ -207,10 +207,12 @@
</header>
<nav id="TOC" role="doc-toc">
<ul>
<li><a href="#stats" id="toc-stats">Stats</a></li>
<li><a href="#about" id="toc-about">About</a></li>
<li><a href="#characters" id="toc-characters">Characters</a>
<ul>
<li><a href="#corraidhín" id="toc-corraidhín">Corraidhín</a></li>
<li><a href="#gabs" id="toc-gabs">Gabs</a></li>
<li><a href="#glarg" id="toc-glarg">Glarg</a></li>
<li><a href="#inky" id="toc-inky">Inky</a></li>
<li><a href="#jarrod" id="toc-jarrod">Jarrod</a></li>
@ -244,6 +246,8 @@ of the Were-Hare</a></li>
<li><a href="#00024" id="toc-00024">00024</a></li>
<li><a href="#00025" id="toc-00025">00025</a></li>
<li><a href="#00026" id="toc-00026">00026</a></li>
<li><a href="#00027" id="toc-00027">00027</a></li>
<li><a href="#00028" id="toc-00028">00028</a></li>
</ul></li>
<li><a href="#bestiary" id="toc-bestiary">Bestiary</a></li>
<li><a href="#geography" id="toc-geography">Geography</a></li>
@ -252,8 +256,11 @@ of the Were-Hare</a></li>
<li><a href="#afterword" id="toc-afterword">Afterword</a></li>
</ul>
</nav>
<h2 id="stats">Stats</h2>
<p>Total length: 24524 words / 104 minute read.</p>
<p>There have been 98 messages posted over 108 days since the first post
on July 13, 2022 for a daily post rate of .90.</p>
<h2 id="about">About</h2>
<p>Total length: 21989 words / 93 minutes</p>
<p>This is a game that me and the kids in the basement are playing over
email.</p>
<p><a
@ -298,6 +305,38 @@ story entirely.</p>
<li>Retriever: Contractual Obligation, An Auspicious Start</li>
<li>Soulsword: Bloodlust</li>
</ul>
<h3 id="gabs">Gabs</h3>
<details>
<summary>
<p>Bio</p>
</summary>
<p>Gabs had a good life. Her little devil children were all grown adults
now, and she no longer wanted to toil away running a business. When she
initially shuttered her little tavern, she thought she might just
retire. She made it two whole years of working in a garden, occasionally
seeing grandkids, and reading romance novels. She eventually decided she
needed a vacation from her retirement and traveled to a nearby port
town. She was sure to find something fun to do there.</p>
<p>Gabs eventually sees Inquire Within, and the smell of debauchery
wafting from within made her miss her days gossiping at her tavern. She
enters and orders a terrible drink and listens and watches.</p>
<p>Hearing the tales being spun by Mister Three-Fingered, she decides,
“Ive never been on a ship, thats something that sounds exciting!”</p>
<p>Half-drunk and eager for something exciting, she will join on the
journey!</p>
<p>Gabs is a lanky older half-devil lady who is here to schmooze and
have fun!</p>
</details>
<ul>
<li>Player: archangelic</li>
<li>XP: 0</li>
<li>Skills: Do Anything 1</li>
<li>Equipment:</li>
</ul>
<p>Paths:</p>
<ul>
<li>Retriever: Contractual Obligation, An Auspicious Start</li>
</ul>
<h3 id="glarg">Glarg</h3>
<details>
<summary>
@ -437,10 +476,10 @@ class="uri">https://t.co/gA6hV6VKqm</a></li>
</ul></li>
<li><p>Cadence: Ill move the story along roughly once a week. Hopefully
that gives everybody time to post something and participate.</p></li>
<li><p>Inclusion over realism: If you disappear for a while and then
come back, your character will immediately reappear as though theyve
been there the whole time. Come and go as you please. Open door
policy!</p></li>
<li><p>Open Table / Inclusion over realism: If you disappear for a while
and then come back, your character will immediately reappear as though
theyve been there the whole time. Come and go as you please. Open door
policy! Drop in and drop out as you please.</p></li>
<li><p>Linearity: Respond only to the most recent email in the thread.
(We might play around with time later, but for now, lets keep it
simple.)</p></li>
@ -2671,9 +2710,236 @@ win.”</p>
way, then turns and saunters out the door, trading small quips with his
new (and now very drunk) tavern friends.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>You are at a small port town on the northern tip of Agendell, just
past the RanaFor Valley. The sun is bright and the wind blowing in from
the Sugrin Sea to the east is cool and salty. The floating island-city
of VayNeddas, bridging Agendell and Primora, can be seen very faintly
in the distance hanging in the northern sky.</p>
<p>Your faithful multibeast is carrying all of your supplies and gear,
which were generously provided to you by the indefatigable Blavin
Blandfoot. His arm in a sling, he kept up a constant nervous chatter as
he saw you off on your journey to recover the second Ginnarak
Crystal.</p>
<p>From here, you can easily provision a boat to take you out to the
site of the shipwreck just off the coast.</p>
<p>Or, optionally, you are very close to the Hartlands. It would be
quite easy to make a quick visit to hemogoblins and pick up some
synthetic blood for your experiments with the Sword of YamL.</p>
<p>The sword, incidentally, after finally tasting the blood of “evil”,
has remained sated and entirely inert and unresponsive this whole
time.</p>
<p>WHAT DO YOU DO:</p>
<ol type="1">
<li>TO THE SHIPWRECK</li>
<li>BLOODQUEST</li>
</ol>
<p><a
href="https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-10/msg00018.html">www</a></p>
<h3 id="00027">00027</h3>
<blockquote>
<p>Inky stares down at the package, weighing it on one hand.</p>
<p>It was lighter than it should be given the density of the contents
within, wrapped in straw and thick brown weight-absorbent parcel paper
for dry goods. Most of the clientele were merchants and cultists from
other parts of the continent who ordered pallets to be shipped back from
the port town and sold to select boutique grocers or spilled on altars.
Inside was a block of congealed synthetic blood shaped like a mud brick,
the dark crimson almost black under the shops dim light.</p>
<p>It was sheer happenstance that Inky had found this particular
supplier. Having been informed heir boat to the shipwreck would not
arrive for several hours, the members of their merry tea party had
wandered off to enjoy the local sights while they waited. Inky had
inquired about the hemogoblins and learned in passing that there was a
district at the western edge of the town where a smaller group had set
up warehouses, which would save them a two-day trip deep into the
Hartlands. The hemogoblins in the district were primarily wholesalers,
and it had taken some convincing before one of the proprietors agreed to
sell a block of it, along with assurances Inky would purchase
exclusively from him next time and in larger quantities.</p>
<p>Thin fingers fiddle with the string before the package was set to one
side.</p>
<p>What were they doing?</p>
<p>If quenching the thirst were so simple, wouldnt any student of magic
have already thought of it, let alone an experienced sysorceror? In all
likelihood he had already known the inevitable, but was too polite to
refuse Inkys funny concoctions. Maybe deep down, Inky already knew too,
but didnt want to say it out loud. That the long feather they thought
they had seen among the tea leaves was actually a dagger. That they
hadnt wanted to admit some problems could not be whisked away with some
tincture or another. That they had failed, again.</p>
<p>They hadnt searched enough for better ingredients to go into the
pudding, hadnt reacted fast enough after noticing the sword had
abruptly disappeared, hadnt thrown the large platter of mouldy meat the
terrified waitress next to them had been holding at Blavins head, or
something. The sword had gotten what it demanded, and Inky couldnt be
angry with it — it had never been subtle about what it wanted. Had the
blood pudding worsened the effects? Potions had never been on Inkys
menu. Brewing inks and teas with certain mild effects was
straightforward enough, but curing chronic ailments was firmly in
healers territory and just as bewildering. While it may be true nobody
could be held to account for the actions of another not in full control
of themselves, and hardly those of a rogue weapon with a mind of its
own, sticking their nose in other peoples affairs was the surest way to
get into trouble, a fact Inky still has difficulty learning after
decades of wandering the continent.</p>
<p>Would this substrate even work? Maybe it acted differently for cursed
objects than coffin sleepers. Having brought it back and now aboard the
ship, how would they even give it to the wizard? Should they wait and
made sure Master Corraidhín was truly rested and recovered, despite his
insistence he was more than fine? Would it be an insulting reminder of
weakness, despite the wizard having proven unusual mental fortitude in
staving off the screams for blood as long as he had? Was this more of
the same, adding to what they had (not) done?</p>
<p>After a long moment, Inky rolls the package with the producers
leaflet haphazardly in an old sailors rags still reeking of cheap
alcohol, and passing by the wizards empty cabin on the way to the deck,
places the messy bundle on the floorboards two steps from the door. Let
the fates decide this one, because Inkys magic 0 ball sure doesnt make
the best life choices.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>Blavin has arranged transportation to the shipwreck ahead of time.
All you have to do is head down to the docks and meet your contact,
Three-Fingered Gerald, at a seedy dive bar named Inquire Within Upon
Everything.</p>
<p>Inquire Within is as eclectic and gaudy as the name would imply. The
bar serves as an extensive and impressive piece of living documentation,
drawing heavily on the port towns cosmopolitan mixture of culture.
Every kind of style, cuisine, decor, and beverage can be found here
mishmashed together irregardless of good taste. Its contents are
encyclopedic and claustrophobic. And yet it is not without its own
peculiar brand of overwhelming, garish charm.</p>
<p>You find Mister Three-Fingered at the bar entertaining his fellow
patrons with a grotesque sleight of hand routine that involves passing
his gold-plated false eye from its socket, to either hand, inside his
mouth, and back with lots of flourish, fanfare, and misdirection along
the way.</p>
<p>He is a merry, boisterous sailor short one eye, half an ear, several
fingers, and—he confesses to you—the heel of his left foot. “Its why I
walk so slow, you see.” The other barflies call him “Lucky”
Three-Fingered Gerald. Because a certain kind of man—and Gerald is one
of them—can never have enough nicknames. After you buy him a drink or
three, he escorts you out of Inquire Within and to the slip where the
sloop <em>Diamond Howler</em> is docked. Its captain, Enid Barlow,
welcomes you aboard.</p>
<p>Before long, <em>Diamond Howler</em> pulls out under the command of
Captain Barlow and First Mate “Lucky” Three-Fingered Gerald. The site
isnt too far off the coast, and you arrive fairly quickly.</p>
<p>“Aye, here she is. The SS RSS.” says Captain Barlow mournfully. “You
cant see her from up here. But you rest assured, shes down there,
resting on the seabed. She was the best cargo runner on the Sugrin back
in her day! Distributing goods up and down the coast. Until the day she
disappeared. Nobody knew what happened to her, not for sure. Still
dont. But at least we know where she wound up!”</p>
<p>While the captain reminisces, Three-Fingered Gerald drags a large
water tank across the deck, sloshing water over the edge with each step.
Translucent orb-like jellyfish wobble around and bump into each other
inside the tank, releasing little effervescent bubbles that fizzle and
pop when they collide. “Here we go!” announces Mister Three-Fingered,
depositing the tank of jellies in front of you. “Sailed through a big
bloom of breathing bells just last week, didnt we! Managed to scoop up
a whole bunch of the little suckers. You ever use a breathing bell
before? No? Aw, its easy! Ya just pull one on over your head like a
hood, and itll breathe for ya while youre below the waves!”</p>
<p>WHAT DO YOU DO</p>
<p>NOTE: We just covered a lot of narrative ground. Feel free to react
to anything that happened between arriving at the docks, meeting Gerald
and drinking at Inquire Within, boarding the Diamond Howler, and sailing
to the site of the wreck.</p>
<p><a
href="https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-10/msg00020.html">www</a></p>
<h3 id="00028">00028</h3>
<blockquote>
<p><sub><em>a new player enters the chat</em></sub></p>
<p>Gabs had a good life. Her little devil children were all grown adults
now, and she no longer wanted to toil away running a business. When she
initially shuttered her little tavern, she thought she might just
retire. She made it two whole years of working in a garden, occasionally
seeing grandkids, and reading romance novels. She eventually decided she
needed a vacation from her retirement and traveled to a nearby port
town. She was sure to find something fun to do there.</p>
<p>Gabs eventually sees Inquire Within, and the smell of debauchery
wafting from within made her miss her days gossiping at her tavern. She
enters and orders a terrible drink and listens and watches.</p>
<p>Hearing the tales being spun by Mister Three-Fingered, she decides,
“Ive never been on a ship, thats something that sounds exciting!”</p>
<p>Half-drunk and eager for something exciting, she will join on the
journey!</p>
<p>Gabs is a lanky older half-devil lady who is here to schmooze and
have fun!</p>
</blockquote>
<p>~</p>
<blockquote>
<p>Meta: a warm welcome to the latest member of our tea party! This is a
short post to help smooth the temporal jumps between the recent
narratives so far. As Inky reaches the deck, they see Gabs approaching
from the other side of the ship as well, and flashes them a grin in
greeting. After listening to the captain petering on about the glorious
days of the now sunken ship below, while tinkering with the bells
tentacles — being rewarded with a mild zap and marginally better fit for
the effort — Inky turns to the party. “When youre ready.”</p>
</blockquote>
<p>You reach into the tank and discover that grabbing a breathing bell
takes some finesse. They are very slippery! But you get the hang of it
and make a ladle out of your hands and scoop one up.</p>
<p>“Okay now!” laughs Three-Fingered Gerald. He gives you a wink, but
its easy to miss because of the eyepatch. “Dont put it on until right
before you jump. It wont be able to breathe for you until youre in the
water. And this!” he continues, fitting a heavy, padded vest around your
shoulders, “will carry you down.” It is a vest of many pockets, each one
holding a small dense sandbag the size of your hand. “When youre ready
to come back up, just start dropping ballast, right?”</p>
<p>You hop up on the ship railing and pull the breathing bell on over
your head. It immediately contracts and squeezes and hugs your head like
a second skin, and its stubby little tentacles grab hold around your
jawline, and it feels like you have a wet plastic bag clinging to your
face, and you think you might have made a grave mistake. Resisting the
urge to panic, you push off the railing and jump overboard. You are
briefly air born and then profoundly waterbound, crashing through the
surface of the sea into the briny soup below.</p>
<p>The oxygen starts to flow as the breathing bell begins to do its job.
As you sink, you feel as though you are floating through space, entering
another world.</p>
<p>After a while you start to hear voices arguing in the distance. As
you get closer, two large shapes start to come into focus. The first is
a hulking, hairless merbear. Top half (hairless) bear, bottom half fish.
The second figure is a tardigrade the size of a large merbear. It has
eight jointless legs, each tipped with four sharp claws. It wriggles and
wobbles like jelly as it gesticulates.</p>
<p>“No, I am the true Bear of the Sea! I am called a Water Bear, after
all!”</p>
<p>“Hornswoggle and poppycock! It is I who am the Bear of the Sea! I am
half bear after all! Youre just some kind of segmented nematode or
something.”</p>
<p>The tardigrade quivers with indignation. “Ill have you know Im a
panarthropod, thank you very much. And this is the ideal physical body!
You may not like it, but this is what peak performance looks like. Ive
lived under the polar ice cap, and in a sulfurous mountaintop hot
spring. Ive traveled through the vacuum of space to the moon! Have you
ever been to the moon?”</p>
<p>“Why dont you go be the Bear of the Moon then if you like it so
much!”</p>
<p>“Youre just as much fish as you are bear, are you sure youre not
the Fish of the Sea?”</p>
<p>“Are you sure youre not the Blob of the Sea, you too many armed bowl
of jelly?”</p>
<p>“Hey! Hey, you there!” The arguing quasi-bears have spotted your slow
descent. “Come, yes, float slowly this way! You must settle an argument
for us! Tell this slightly mammalian fish that I am the true Bear of the
Sea!”</p>
<p>“The Bear of the Sea must be at least slightly mammalian you
egg-laying scientific curiosity! You, tell this cousin of a barnacle
that I—the mighty merbear—am the true Bear of the Sea! Say this and I
will guide and protect you on your journey.”</p>
<p>“No! Would you like to visit the moon? Say that I, tardigrade, am
Bear of the Sea and I will introduce you to my moon friends!”</p>
<p>“He had to make friends on the moon because nobody on Urth can stand
him!”</p>
<p>“Youre just mean, you know that?”</p>
<p>You are still quite some way from the sea bed, and there is no sight
of the SS RSS.</p>
<p>WHAT DO YOU DO</p>
<p><a
href="https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-10/msg00015.html">www</a></p>
href="https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-10/msg00023.html">www</a></p>
<h2 id="bestiary">Bestiary</h2>
<p>Some of the creatures who inhabit the world of Basmentaria</p>
<dt>
@ -2911,16 +3177,29 @@ manipulate cloudstuff into solid objects.
</dd>
</dl>
<h2 id="geography">Geography</h2>
<details>
<summary>
<p>Map</p>
</summary>
<figure>
<img src="map.webp" alt="Map" />
<figcaption aria-hidden="true">Map</figcaption>
</figure>
</details>
<p>Basmentaria is a group of islands that sits between the eastern
Sugrin Sea and the western Saldin Sea.</p>
<p>There is Primora, the northern somewhat banana-shaped island.</p>
<p>And there is Agendell, the southern also slightly banana-shaped
island. Its largest city is VayNullar, surrounded by the Gnomelands to
the south, and the Tammineaux Forest to the east. Beyond the forest is
the RanaFor Valley.</p>
<p>There is Primora, the sparsely populated northern somewhat
banana-shaped island. The city-state of Illivas, Primoras only densely
populated area, sits between Harshwind Glade and the mountains of Kelsun
Peak.</p>
<p>And there Agendell, the southern also slightly banana-shaped island.
Its largest city is VayNullar, bordered by the Gnomelands to the south,
and the Tammineaux Forest to the east. Beyond the forest is the RanaFor
Valley.</p>
<p>The two crescent-moon islands reach toward each other, and in the
center is Ginnarak, the small archipelago comprising the Cinderlands,
Ashen Vale, the Ember Steppe, and Drakspon Mountain.</p>
center is the archipelago of Ginnarak, comprising the Cinderlands, Ashen
Vale, the Ember Steppe, and Drakspon Mountain.</p>
<p><a href="#00022">00022</a></p>
<h2 id="cosmology">Cosmology</h2>
<p>In a fantasy setting where there objectively are deities who walk the
earth and interact with humans, “atheism” is sometimes erroneously used

BIN
www/map.webp 100644

Binary file not shown.

After

Width:  |  Height:  |  Size: 73 KiB

View File

@ -61,9 +61,33 @@
small quips with his new (and now very drunk) tavern
friends.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>WHAT DO YOU DO</p>
<p>You are at a small port town on the northern tip of
Agendell, just past the RanaFor Valley. The sun is bright and
the wind blowing in from the Sugrin Sea to the east is cool
and salty. The floating island-city of VayNeddas, bridging
Agendell and Primora, can be seen very faintly in the distance
hanging in the northern sky.</p>
<p>Your faithful multibeast is carrying all of your supplies
and gear, which were generously provided to you by the
indefatigable Blavin Blandfoot. His arm in a sling, he kept up
a constant nervous chatter as he saw you off on your journey
to recover the second Ginnarak Crystal.</p>
<p>From here, you can easily provision a boat to take you out
to the site of the shipwreck just off the coast.</p>
<p>Or, optionally, you are very close to the Hartlands. It
would be quite easy to make a quick visit to hemogoblins and
pick up some synthetic blood for your experiments with the
Sword of YamL.</p>
<p>The sword, incidentally, after finally tasting the blood of
“evil”, has remained sated and entirely inert and unresponsive
this whole time.</p>
<p>WHAT DO YOU DO:</p>
<ol type="1">
<li>TO THE SHIPWRECK</li>
<li>BLOODQUEST</li>
</ol>
<p><a
href="https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-10/msg00015.html">www</a></p>
href="https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-10/msg00018.html">www</a></p>
]]>
</description>
</item>
@ -170,321 +194,6 @@
]]>
</description>
</item>
<item>
<title>21</title>
<author>dozens@tilde.team (dozens)</author>
<guid isPermaLink="false">21 - Wed, 05 Oct 2022 07:21:55
-0600</guid>
<pubDate>Wed, 05 Oct 2022 07:21:55 -0600</pubDate>
<description>
<![CDATA[
<h3 id="00021">00021</h3>
<p>INTERLUDE</p>
<blockquote>
<p>A glorious victory!</p>
<p>In the interim time Corraidhin studies the sword of Yaml,
and correctly deduces that he needs to remove the sticky bit
to be able to sheath the thing.</p>
<p>sudo chmod -t sword_of_y'aml</p>
<p>The rest of the interim is spent studying arcane lore
surrounding the Ginnarak Crystals and their purpose. He also
strongly urges the party that we should consider very carefuly
how we need to proceed with the crystal. Its obvious people
dont want these things getting out, so we should ensure that
Blavin has good intentions, or at least leaves us out of
whatever potential evil could occur.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>Corraidhin prepares the incantation and, after removing the
sticky bit, is able pry his stiff fingers from the grip.</p>
<p>You sheathe the blade, but its voice continues to ring
clearly in your head as it prattles on, seeing evil and
villainy everywhere and encouraging you to stab, stab,
stab.</p>
<p>Your sysorcerous studies, confirmed by the eager and
forthright sword, suggest that the blade will be able to rest
for a while once it tastes blood.</p>
<p>Your former mentor and rival sysorceror Eccentric Kevin
calls on you one day under the pretense of showing you the
latest draft of KDL (pronounced “cuddle”), their own “Kevins
Document Language”, an alternative syntax for incantations and
personal pet project of theirs that has thus far failed, much
to their perpetual consternation, to gain any traction or
adoption in the wider magic community. They are insufferably
polite and sinisterly supportive. They complain about how the
obstinant gnus keep standing in the middle of the road trying
to block traffic, and they demand to know all about your
recent exploits and adventures.</p>
<blockquote>
<p>Once back in town, Inky had the small glass shard in their
palm removed by a harried-looking healer, who merely shrugged
at Inkys account of the disappearing ink and advised them to
return if they experienced adverse effects before hurrying off
to the next patient. A visit to the local stationery shop did
not yield any answers; the stocky human at the counter shook
their head apologetically when shown the broken ink bottle.
However, they did suggest asking at one of the larger shops in
the city.</p>
<p>To celebrate their first successful quest, Inky made
torties[1] for their party with flour ground from some of the
large corn kernels at the dig site, topped with a sweet nutty
squash spread. Babbleberry tea was served from their newly
acquired jade tea set, now patched with what Inky had been
assured was an unbreakable seal[2] by a merchant with a toothy
grin in one of VayNullars notorious back alleys.</p>
<p>Master Corraidhíns cautionary words of wisdom still echo
in Inkys head, though they were secretly tickled by the idea
of the crystal being actually a rare and previously unknown
species of melon with very potent magical properties. The very
thought of melons was making Inky a bit thirsty. Let the
warrior and wizard worry about all the potential evils of the
world — its time for a dash to the market for some beatfruit
juice!</p>
<hr />
<p>[1] Also known as torte-teas, as in “Torte-tea, yas?”,
which was how their previous ink maestro used to greet
customers entering the brewery. Flat little tea cakes with
sugar or spice (or both, which vary by region) and sometimes
eaten in a loose wrap. Some humans called them “crabs” for
some reason which baffled Inky, since the torties had no
pincers … at least none that they could see anyway.</p>
<p>[2] The seal attached to the bottom of the teapot and each
cup had a glyph of an unknown object between two hands.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>The healer removes a small glass bead from Inkys palm. It
is worn smooth and round like a marble. If you look closely,
you can see a small blemish in the center that somewhat
resembles either a duck or a rabbit depending on how you
orient it.</p>
<p>It is captivating to look at and comforting to hold in your
hand. You fidget with it often. Now and then you suddenly
notice you have been gazing at it for some minutes without
realizing it.</p>
<p>You make your party a delightful meal of torties, serving
tea from the magically reinforced jade set.</p>
<p>Cleaning up afterwards, you cant help but notice the
patterns of the tea leaves in the bottoms of the jade
cups.</p>
<p>YOU FORESEE AN OMEN FOR THE PARTY. WHAT IS IT?</p>
<p>You dash to the market for beatfruit juice, which you
easily find. And you find yourself irrationally drawn to the
produce. The kale, dandelion greens, and beans all look
especially scrumptious and … plump and juicy?</p>
<p>An old toothy market attendant sits on a stool by the
vegetable stand reading the Farmers Almanac. Unsolicited, they
mention to you that it is only three days until the next full
moon.</p>
<blockquote>
<p>Jarrod has two things in particular he wants to do when
back in town, with whatever his cut of the gold is. First, he
wants to go looking for a cheap, run-down building somewhere
in town and buy the property if he has enough money (perhaps
negotiating a bit where necessary).</p>
<p>Second, he wishes to seek arcane counsel from Corraidhín,
perhaps getting a small invocation applied to one of the
charms on his arm band. Something in the realm of a
fascination spell (with an activation word) that can be used
on occasion to draw attention.</p>
<p>Jarrod agrees that we should not invite trouble. We shall
tread cautiously with regards to the crystals.</p>
<p>Yum, torties!</p>
</blockquote>
<p>After successfully negotiating the price down a little bit,
you are able to purchase a run-down building. You are now the
proud owner and proprietor of the Milk Market building in the
Wandering Bazzar district of downtown VayNullar.</p>
<p>The ground level is occupied by longtime district staple
Enriques Empanada Emporium, famous for its signature stuffed
pastries and its Terrapin Ale, brewed on site by Enrique
himself, who happens to be a very large humanoid turtle.</p>
<p>Its a little seedy and a little divey, but still draws a
fair amount of foot traffic from shoppers waiting for the
eponymous, ambulatory bazaar of debatable sentience to wander
by. Reliably, a small gang of breadpunks can be found
loitering here and espousing the virtues of social anarchy.
Enrique allows their presence and on occasion even buys them a
round of ale.</p>
<p>The top two levels are unoccupied. Years upon years ago,
this space once held large vats for storing and preserving
multibeast milk prior to being distributed. Some enterprising
individual converted and updated the space some time ago, but
was never able to find a tenant. In any case, the space is
yours now to do with what you will.</p>
<p>With Corraidhins assistance, you are able to enchant your
armband by inscribing it with a cross-like glyph with a
teardrop-shaped loop in place of the vertical upper bar. You
now have a FASCINATING BANGLE that can, upon activation,
compel attention and even potentially inspire people to dance
about.</p>
<p>WHAT DO YOU DO</p>
<p><a
href="https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-10/msg00001.html">www</a></p>
]]>
</description>
</item>
<item>
<title>23</title>
<author>dozens@tilde.team (dozens)</author>
<guid isPermaLink="false">23 - Sat, 22 Oct 2022 09:36:52
-0600</guid>
<pubDate>Sat, 22 Oct 2022 09:36:52 -0600</pubDate>
<description>
<![CDATA[
<h3 id="00023">00023</h3>
<blockquote>
<p>Why no, we dont mind much about competition, certainly
nothing wrong. Cant imagine someone to put all of their eggs
in one basket, especially when whatever it is they desire is
so valuable.</p>
<p>That said, our benefactor must be pretty eager to get these
crystals if hes willing to send out team after team. I mean,
were team 43, thats a lot of people to pay and a lot of
eagerness to find these crystals. Why is that? What benefit
are these shiny rocks to them? What even is their purpose in
retrieving them?</p>
</blockquote>
<p>“Oh, no no no, child,” Blavin titters as he takes a sip of
his ever-present martini. “You must understand, the Benefactor
is a singularly dedicated collector, and has been for ages!
There are—and have been!—many other retrieval teams, yes. But
not all of them have been for the crystals. And some of them
were formed, active, and disbanded long before you or I
arrived on the scene.” He winks at you conspiratorially.</p>
<blockquote>
<p>I would postulate, based upon the magical wards we had to
bypass, the cadre of gaurds that needed to be dispatched, and
the gigantic moth monster that rested beneath it, that these
crystals arent meant to go anywhere.</p>
<p>Now Im not trying to point fingers here, morality is many
shades of gray, and it isnt really my job to suss out what
youre doing. But Im a curious sysorceor, and when I see a
chance to learn I seize upon the moment. Theres something
here youre not telling us, and I for one and keen to know
it.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>“I wouldnt worry your wizened old brow about it,” Blavin
chuckles, sloshing his drink. “The Benefactors concern is
precisely the same as yours! These items are of enormous
cultural and historical significance, to say nothing of their
well of concentrated arcane energies. Theyre dangerous just
sitting out there in the world. Who knows who might come
across one and use it for nefarious purposes.”</p>
<p>YamLs eye widens and it seems to shudder at the mere
suggestion of evil.</p>
<p>“Did you say this one was in the hands of a giant moth?”
Blavin shudders with revulsion. “My word, man! Do you really
think such an overgrown insect is an appropriate guardian for
a beloved and dangerous cultural icon such as the Ginnarak
Crystal? Surely not!”</p>
<p>“No,” he sits back with a satisfied smile, “I think we must
all agree that they are safer in the public collection of a
competent and benevolent curator. Then everybody can enjoy
them safely!”</p>
<blockquote>
<p>META: Im gonna preface the sword speech with this to make
it quicker to write</p>
<p><strong>Yaml</strong><br />
I like what youre putting down here, this guy is DEFINITELY
evil. Nobody asks loads of people to steal things for them
without being evil. I say we stab him, nice and good, right in
the gut. Maybe 6 or 7 times. Im positive nobody will mind.
Evil people steal things, we saw that inky creature stealing
things from that vault, definitely evil. (singsong) Evil evil
evil, stab stab stab, make the evil go away with every little
stab~</p>
<p><strong>Corraidhin to Yaml</strong><br />
Dear sysadmins, once again, inky is not evil. They were
borrowing something that had been cast on the ground,
abandoned. Giving a tea set a good home is far from evil. But
you might be onto something about this Blavin fellow, but we
cant just stab someone in a busy pub! Besides youre a sword,
and stabbing someone in a pub is the job of a dagger. So
unless you can transform into the Dagger of Yaml I think
were out of luck here.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>YamL gets a curious look in its eye at the suggestion.
“CHALLENGE ACCEPTED!” it cries directly into your mind. It
squeezes its eye shut and trembles with intense concentration.
With great effort, the sword shrinks itself down to the size
of a dagger, shunting its extra mass off into yamlspace.</p>
<p>“There!” it says breathlessly, opening its eye wearily.
“Now, Hardy Bear. You promised..” it continues, its eye
glinting with growing ferocity. “Lets. STAB. THE HOBBIT!”</p>
<blockquote>
<p>While the wizard pressed Blavin about the crystals
secrets, Inky let their attention wander slightly around the
table.</p>
<p>They had agreed that Master Corraidhín and Jarrod, being
most wise and well-spoken, would question Blavin about the
crystal before they set off on their next mission. The party
had also befriended the duck unofficially dubbed their
marketing manager after the fluffy little creature had trailed
Inky all the way back to the Milk Market. Said creature now
occupied a small office to one side of the building complete
with a fountain, feathered up pillow and all the rummy worms
it can eat. Inky had tried getting the duck to communicate
with words by making them little croutons etched with letters,
but the only ones they would gobble up were Q-U-A-C-K.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>Your marketing manager moves into its office at the Milk
Market and seems to really be enjoying itself. It joins you at
Blavins table at Lucys Basement, cleaning its feathers and
chortling merrily to itself.</p>
<p>You and your tablemates take turns feeding it croutons and
bits of soft pretzel, and it seems very happy and content with
that.</p>
<blockquote>
<p>A familiar prickle, but passed quickly — Inky had gotten
used to the glares directed at them by the sysorceors
gleaming sword and resisted returning the stare with an
eyeroll. Watching Stabby eyeing up their case manager over
Master Corraidhíns shoulder reminded Inky of a conversation
they had overheard a few evenings ago between two pale coffin
sleepers about a new product from the hemogoblins that was
said to quench the thirst for longer than the leading brand.
They might be able to find some at the town of Plasma, which
sits by the Hartlands on the way to the shipwreck. It seems
the milky blood pudding could do with some improvement.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>You note on Blavins map that the Hemogoblin region is
indeed on the way to the shipwreck. At least, its not that
far out of the way. You reckon their synthetic blood product
would indeed be a much better substitute for the real thing
than the milk youve been feeding the thirsty sword thus
far.</p>
<p>Or, at the very least, youll get a new variant of the
blood pudding recipe youve been working on!</p>
<blockquote>
<p>Maybe someone elses mood will be improved in the meantime?
Before setting out for their meeting with Blavin, Inky slipped
into the kitchens downstairs and left the empanada chef a
trick-and-treat. A plate of honeyed breadfruit and ghost
pepper tapas sat on an icebox atop a new pair of Blueberry
oven mittens with a pattern of tiny smiling green turtles.
Tucked inside one mitten was a slip of paper (regrettably
inedible) that simply read “BACK SOON :)”. A tapa recipe,
which included a note on adapting the toppings for pan frying,
was printed on the reverse in neat blocky letters and
sandalwood ink.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>Enrique wakes in the middle of the night to start baking
the next days breads and empanadas. He frowns thoughtfully
when he sees yet another mysterious gift from across the room.
Again? What little elf must have taken up residence in his
shop? But his face cracks into a smile when he sees the
presentation and the oven mitts. And the smile becomes a
bonafide grin when he tastes the fare and finds the
recipe.</p>
<p>He taps his chin thoughtfully with one green claw as he
skims the note and looks through his pantry. He chops some
veggies and starts pan frying them.</p>
<p>Later, when the oven dings, he smiles to himself as he
pulls on the new turtle pattern oven mitts and opens it.</p>
<p>&gt; A) MORE QUESTIONING, OR B) TIME FOR SHIPWRECK?</p>
<p><a
href="https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-10/msg00008.html">www</a></p>
]]>
</description>
</item>
<item>
<title>25</title>
<author>dozens@tilde.team (dozens)</author>
@ -654,6 +363,297 @@
]]>
</description>
</item>
<item>
<title>21</title>
<author>dozens@tilde.team (dozens)</author>
<guid isPermaLink="false">21 - Wed, 05 Oct 2022 07:21:55
-0600</guid>
<pubDate>Wed, 05 Oct 2022 07:21:55 -0600</pubDate>
<description>
<![CDATA[
<h3 id="00021">00021</h3>
<p>INTERLUDE</p>
<blockquote>
<p>A glorious victory!</p>
<p>In the interim time Corraidhin studies the sword of Yaml,
and correctly deduces that he needs to remove the sticky bit
to be able to sheath the thing.</p>
<p>sudo chmod -t sword_of_y'aml</p>
<p>The rest of the interim is spent studying arcane lore
surrounding the Ginnarak Crystals and their purpose. He also
strongly urges the party that we should consider very carefuly
how we need to proceed with the crystal. Its obvious people
dont want these things getting out, so we should ensure that
Blavin has good intentions, or at least leaves us out of
whatever potential evil could occur.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>Corraidhin prepares the incantation and, after removing the
sticky bit, is able pry his stiff fingers from the grip.</p>
<p>You sheathe the blade, but its voice continues to ring
clearly in your head as it prattles on, seeing evil and
villainy everywhere and encouraging you to stab, stab,
stab.</p>
<p>Your sysorcerous studies, confirmed by the eager and
forthright sword, suggest that the blade will be able to rest
for a while once it tastes blood.</p>
<p>Your former mentor and rival sysorceror Eccentric Kevin
calls on you one day under the pretense of showing you the
latest draft of KDL (pronounced “cuddle”), their own “Kevins
Document Language”, an alternative syntax for incantations and
personal pet project of theirs that has thus far failed, much
to their perpetual consternation, to gain any traction or
adoption in the wider magic community. They are insufferably
polite and sinisterly supportive. They complain about how the
obstinant gnus keep standing in the middle of the road trying
to block traffic, and they demand to know all about your
recent exploits and adventures.</p>
<blockquote>
<p>Once back in town, Inky had the small glass shard in their
palm removed by a harried-looking healer, who merely shrugged
at Inkys account of the disappearing ink and advised them to
return if they experienced adverse effects before hurrying off
to the next patient. A visit to the local stationery shop did
not yield any answers; the stocky human at the counter shook
their head apologetically when shown the broken ink bottle.
However, they did suggest asking at one of the larger shops in
the city.</p>
<p>To celebrate their first successful quest, Inky made
torties[1] for their party with flour ground from some of the
large corn kernels at the dig site, topped with a sweet nutty
squash spread. Babbleberry tea was served from their newly
acquired jade tea set, now patched with what Inky had been
assured was an unbreakable seal[2] by a merchant with a toothy
grin in one of VayNullars notorious back alleys.</p>
<p>Master Corraidhíns cautionary words of wisdom still echo
in Inkys head, though they were secretly tickled by the idea
of the crystal being actually a rare and previously unknown
species of melon with very potent magical properties. The very
thought of melons was making Inky a bit thirsty. Let the
warrior and wizard worry about all the potential evils of the
world — its time for a dash to the market for some beatfruit
juice!</p>
<hr />
<p>[1] Also known as torte-teas, as in “Torte-tea, yas?”,
which was how their previous ink maestro used to greet
customers entering the brewery. Flat little tea cakes with
sugar or spice (or both, which vary by region) and sometimes
eaten in a loose wrap. Some humans called them “crabs” for
some reason which baffled Inky, since the torties had no
pincers … at least none that they could see anyway.</p>
<p>[2] The seal attached to the bottom of the teapot and each
cup had a glyph of an unknown object between two hands.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>The healer removes a small glass bead from Inkys palm. It
is worn smooth and round like a marble. If you look closely,
you can see a small blemish in the center that somewhat
resembles either a duck or a rabbit depending on how you
orient it.</p>
<p>It is captivating to look at and comforting to hold in your
hand. You fidget with it often. Now and then you suddenly
notice you have been gazing at it for some minutes without
realizing it.</p>
<p>You make your party a delightful meal of torties, serving
tea from the magically reinforced jade set.</p>
<p>Cleaning up afterwards, you cant help but notice the
patterns of the tea leaves in the bottoms of the jade
cups.</p>
<p>YOU FORESEE AN OMEN FOR THE PARTY. WHAT IS IT?</p>
<p>You dash to the market for beatfruit juice, which you
easily find. And you find yourself irrationally drawn to the
produce. The kale, dandelion greens, and beans all look
especially scrumptious and … plump and juicy?</p>
<p>An old toothy market attendant sits on a stool by the
vegetable stand reading the Farmers Almanac. Unsolicited, they
mention to you that it is only three days until the next full
moon.</p>
<blockquote>
<p>Jarrod has two things in particular he wants to do when
back in town, with whatever his cut of the gold is. First, he
wants to go looking for a cheap, run-down building somewhere
in town and buy the property if he has enough money (perhaps
negotiating a bit where necessary).</p>
<p>Second, he wishes to seek arcane counsel from Corraidhín,
perhaps getting a small invocation applied to one of the
charms on his arm band. Something in the realm of a
fascination spell (with an activation word) that can be used
on occasion to draw attention.</p>
<p>Jarrod agrees that we should not invite trouble. We shall
tread cautiously with regards to the crystals.</p>
<p>Yum, torties!</p>
</blockquote>
<p>After successfully negotiating the price down a little bit,
you are able to purchase a run-down building. You are now the
proud owner and proprietor of the Milk Market building in the
Wandering Bazzar district of downtown VayNullar.</p>
<p>The ground level is occupied by longtime district staple
Enriques Empanada Emporium, famous for its signature stuffed
pastries and its Terrapin Ale, brewed on site by Enrique
himself, who happens to be a very large humanoid turtle.</p>
<p>Its a little seedy and a little divey, but still draws a
fair amount of foot traffic from shoppers waiting for the
eponymous, ambulatory bazaar of debatable sentience to wander
by. Reliably, a small gang of breadpunks can be found
loitering here and espousing the virtues of social anarchy.
Enrique allows their presence and on occasion even buys them a
round of ale.</p>
<p>The top two levels are unoccupied. Years upon years ago,
this space once held large vats for storing and preserving
multibeast milk prior to being distributed. Some enterprising
individual converted and updated the space some time ago, but
was never able to find a tenant. In any case, the space is
yours now to do with what you will.</p>
<p>With Corraidhins assistance, you are able to enchant your
armband by inscribing it with a cross-like glyph with a
teardrop-shaped loop in place of the vertical upper bar. You
now have a FASCINATING BANGLE that can, upon activation,
compel attention and even potentially inspire people to dance
about.</p>
<p>WHAT DO YOU DO</p>
<p><a
href="https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-10/msg00001.html">www</a></p>
]]>
</description>
</item>
<item>
<title>27</title>
<author>dozens@tilde.team (dozens)</author>
<guid isPermaLink="false">27 - Tue, 25 Oct 2022 14:14:31
-0600</guid>
<pubDate>Fri, 28 Oct 2022 10:36:42 -0600</pubDate>
<description>
<![CDATA[
<h3 id="00027">00027</h3>
<blockquote>
<p>Inky stares down at the package, weighing it on one
hand.</p>
<p>It was lighter than it should be given the density of the
contents within, wrapped in straw and thick brown
weight-absorbent parcel paper for dry goods. Most of the
clientele were merchants and cultists from other parts of the
continent who ordered pallets to be shipped back from the port
town and sold to select boutique grocers or spilled on altars.
Inside was a block of congealed synthetic blood shaped like a
mud brick, the dark crimson almost black under the shops dim
light.</p>
<p>It was sheer happenstance that Inky had found this
particular supplier. Having been informed heir boat to the
shipwreck would not arrive for several hours, the members of
their merry tea party had wandered off to enjoy the local
sights while they waited. Inky had inquired about the
hemogoblins and learned in passing that there was a district
at the western edge of the town where a smaller group had set
up warehouses, which would save them a two-day trip deep into
the Hartlands. The hemogoblins in the district were primarily
wholesalers, and it had taken some convincing before one of
the proprietors agreed to sell a block of it, along with
assurances Inky would purchase exclusively from him next time
and in larger quantities.</p>
<p>Thin fingers fiddle with the string before the package was
set to one side.</p>
<p>What were they doing?</p>
<p>If quenching the thirst were so simple, wouldnt any
student of magic have already thought of it, let alone an
experienced sysorceror? In all likelihood he had already known
the inevitable, but was too polite to refuse Inkys funny
concoctions. Maybe deep down, Inky already knew too, but
didnt want to say it out loud. That the long feather they
thought they had seen among the tea leaves was actually a
dagger. That they hadnt wanted to admit some problems could
not be whisked away with some tincture or another. That they
had failed, again.</p>
<p>They hadnt searched enough for better ingredients to go
into the pudding, hadnt reacted fast enough after noticing
the sword had abruptly disappeared, hadnt thrown the large
platter of mouldy meat the terrified waitress next to them had
been holding at Blavins head, or something. The sword had
gotten what it demanded, and Inky couldnt be angry with it —
it had never been subtle about what it wanted. Had the blood
pudding worsened the effects? Potions had never been on Inkys
menu. Brewing inks and teas with certain mild effects was
straightforward enough, but curing chronic ailments was firmly
in healers territory and just as bewildering. While it may be
true nobody could be held to account for the actions of
another not in full control of themselves, and hardly those of
a rogue weapon with a mind of its own, sticking their nose in
other peoples affairs was the surest way to get into trouble,
a fact Inky still has difficulty learning after decades of
wandering the continent.</p>
<p>Would this substrate even work? Maybe it acted differently
for cursed objects than coffin sleepers. Having brought it
back and now aboard the ship, how would they even give it to
the wizard? Should they wait and made sure Master Corraidhín
was truly rested and recovered, despite his insistence he was
more than fine? Would it be an insulting reminder of weakness,
despite the wizard having proven unusual mental fortitude in
staving off the screams for blood as long as he had? Was this
more of the same, adding to what they had (not) done?</p>
<p>After a long moment, Inky rolls the package with the
producers leaflet haphazardly in an old sailors rags still
reeking of cheap alcohol, and passing by the wizards empty
cabin on the way to the deck, places the messy bundle on the
floorboards two steps from the door. Let the fates decide this
one, because Inkys magic 0 ball sure doesnt make the best
life choices.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>Blavin has arranged transportation to the shipwreck ahead
of time. All you have to do is head down to the docks and meet
your contact, Three-Fingered Gerald, at a seedy dive bar named
Inquire Within Upon Everything.</p>
<p>Inquire Within is as eclectic and gaudy as the name would
imply. The bar serves as an extensive and impressive piece of
living documentation, drawing heavily on the port towns
cosmopolitan mixture of culture. Every kind of style, cuisine,
decor, and beverage can be found here mishmashed together
irregardless of good taste. Its contents are encyclopedic and
claustrophobic. And yet it is not without its own peculiar
brand of overwhelming, garish charm.</p>
<p>You find Mister Three-Fingered at the bar entertaining his
fellow patrons with a grotesque sleight of hand routine that
involves passing his gold-plated false eye from its socket, to
either hand, inside his mouth, and back with lots of flourish,
fanfare, and misdirection along the way.</p>
<p>He is a merry, boisterous sailor short one eye, half an
ear, several fingers, and—he confesses to you—the heel of his
left foot. “Its why I walk so slow, you see.” The other
barflies call him “Lucky” Three-Fingered Gerald. Because a
certain kind of man—and Gerald is one of them—can never have
enough nicknames. After you buy him a drink or three, he
escorts you out of Inquire Within and to the slip where the
sloop <em>Diamond Howler</em> is docked. Its captain, Enid
Barlow, welcomes you aboard.</p>
<p>Before long, <em>Diamond Howler</em> pulls out under the
command of Captain Barlow and First Mate “Lucky”
Three-Fingered Gerald. The site isnt too far off the coast,
and you arrive fairly quickly.</p>
<p>“Aye, here she is. The SS RSS.” says Captain Barlow
mournfully. “You cant see her from up here. But you rest
assured, shes down there, resting on the seabed. She was the
best cargo runner on the Sugrin back in her day! Distributing
goods up and down the coast. Until the day she disappeared.
Nobody knew what happened to her, not for sure. Still dont.
But at least we know where she wound up!”</p>
<p>While the captain reminisces, Three-Fingered Gerald drags a
large water tank across the deck, sloshing water over the edge
with each step. Translucent orb-like jellyfish wobble around
and bump into each other inside the tank, releasing little
effervescent bubbles that fizzle and pop when they collide.
“Here we go!” announces Mister Three-Fingered, depositing the
tank of jellies in front of you. “Sailed through a big bloom
of breathing bells just last week, didnt we! Managed to scoop
up a whole bunch of the little suckers. You ever use a
breathing bell before? No? Aw, its easy! Ya just pull one on
over your head like a hood, and itll breathe for ya while
youre below the waves!”</p>
<p>WHAT DO YOU DO</p>
<p>NOTE: We just covered a lot of narrative ground. Feel free
to react to anything that happened between arriving at the
docks, meeting Gerald and drinking at Inquire Within, boarding
the Diamond Howler, and sailing to the site of the wreck.</p>
<p><a
href="https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-10/msg00020.html">www</a></p>
]]>
</description>
</item>
<item>
<title>22</title>
<author>dozens@tilde.team (dozens)</author>
@ -987,5 +987,286 @@ scp sysorceor.guild:/home/corraidhin/chest milkbase.alpha:/home/corraidhin/chest
]]>
</description>
</item>
<item>
<title>28</title>
<author>dozens@tilde.team (dozens)</author>
<guid isPermaLink="false">28 - Sat, 29 Oct 2022 08:36:51
-0600</guid>
<pubDate>Sat, 29 Oct 2022 08:36:51 -0600</pubDate>
<description>
<![CDATA[
<h3 id="00028">00028</h3>
<blockquote>
<p><sub><em>a new player enters the chat</em></sub></p>
<p>Gabs had a good life. Her little devil children were all
grown adults now, and she no longer wanted to toil away
running a business. When she initially shuttered her little
tavern, she thought she might just retire. She made it two
whole years of working in a garden, occasionally seeing
grandkids, and reading romance novels. She eventually decided
she needed a vacation from her retirement and traveled to a
nearby port town. She was sure to find something fun to do
there.</p>
<p>Gabs eventually sees Inquire Within, and the smell of
debauchery wafting from within made her miss her days
gossiping at her tavern. She enters and orders a terrible
drink and listens and watches.</p>
<p>Hearing the tales being spun by Mister Three-Fingered, she
decides, “Ive never been on a ship, thats something that
sounds exciting!”</p>
<p>Half-drunk and eager for something exciting, she will join
on the journey!</p>
<p>Gabs is a lanky older half-devil lady who is here to
schmooze and have fun!</p>
</blockquote>
<p>~</p>
<blockquote>
<p>Meta: a warm welcome to the latest member of our tea party!
This is a short post to help smooth the temporal jumps between
the recent narratives so far. As Inky reaches the deck, they
see Gabs approaching from the other side of the ship as well,
and flashes them a grin in greeting. After listening to the
captain petering on about the glorious days of the now sunken
ship below, while tinkering with the bells tentacles — being
rewarded with a mild zap and marginally better fit for the
effort — Inky turns to the party. “When youre ready.”</p>
</blockquote>
<p>You reach into the tank and discover that grabbing a
breathing bell takes some finesse. They are very slippery! But
you get the hang of it and make a ladle out of your hands and
scoop one up.</p>
<p>“Okay now!” laughs Three-Fingered Gerald. He gives you a
wink, but its easy to miss because of the eyepatch. “Dont
put it on until right before you jump. It wont be able to
breathe for you until youre in the water. And this!” he
continues, fitting a heavy, padded vest around your shoulders,
“will carry you down.” It is a vest of many pockets, each one
holding a small dense sandbag the size of your hand. “When
youre ready to come back up, just start dropping ballast,
right?”</p>
<p>You hop up on the ship railing and pull the breathing bell
on over your head. It immediately contracts and squeezes and
hugs your head like a second skin, and its stubby little
tentacles grab hold around your jawline, and it feels like you
have a wet plastic bag clinging to your face, and you think
you might have made a grave mistake. Resisting the urge to
panic, you push off the railing and jump overboard. You are
briefly air born and then profoundly waterbound, crashing
through the surface of the sea into the briny soup below.</p>
<p>The oxygen starts to flow as the breathing bell begins to
do its job. As you sink, you feel as though you are floating
through space, entering another world.</p>
<p>After a while you start to hear voices arguing in the
distance. As you get closer, two large shapes start to come
into focus. The first is a hulking, hairless merbear. Top half
(hairless) bear, bottom half fish. The second figure is a
tardigrade the size of a large merbear. It has eight jointless
legs, each tipped with four sharp claws. It wriggles and
wobbles like jelly as it gesticulates.</p>
<p>“No, I am the true Bear of the Sea! I am called a Water
Bear, after all!”</p>
<p>“Hornswoggle and poppycock! It is I who am the Bear of the
Sea! I am half bear after all! Youre just some kind of
segmented nematode or something.”</p>
<p>The tardigrade quivers with indignation. “Ill have you
know Im a panarthropod, thank you very much. And this is the
ideal physical body! You may not like it, but this is what
peak performance looks like. Ive lived under the polar ice
cap, and in a sulfurous mountaintop hot spring. Ive traveled
through the vacuum of space to the moon! Have you ever been to
the moon?”</p>
<p>“Why dont you go be the Bear of the Moon then if you like
it so much!”</p>
<p>“Youre just as much fish as you are bear, are you sure
youre not the Fish of the Sea?”</p>
<p>“Are you sure youre not the Blob of the Sea, you too many
armed bowl of jelly?”</p>
<p>“Hey! Hey, you there!” The arguing quasi-bears have spotted
your slow descent. “Come, yes, float slowly this way! You must
settle an argument for us! Tell this slightly mammalian fish
that I am the true Bear of the Sea!”</p>
<p>“The Bear of the Sea must be at least slightly mammalian
you egg-laying scientific curiosity! You, tell this cousin of
a barnacle that I—the mighty merbear—am the true Bear of the
Sea! Say this and I will guide and protect you on your
journey.”</p>
<p>“No! Would you like to visit the moon? Say that I,
tardigrade, am Bear of the Sea and I will introduce you to my
moon friends!”</p>
<p>“He had to make friends on the moon because nobody on Urth
can stand him!”</p>
<p>“Youre just mean, you know that?”</p>
<p>You are still quite some way from the sea bed, and there is
no sight of the SS RSS.</p>
<p>WHAT DO YOU DO</p>
<p><a
href="https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-10/msg00023.html">www</a></p>
]]>
</description>
</item>
<item>
<title>23</title>
<author>dozens@tilde.team (dozens)</author>
<guid isPermaLink="false">23 - Sat, 22 Oct 2022 09:36:52
-0600</guid>
<pubDate>Sat, 22 Oct 2022 09:36:52 -0600</pubDate>
<description>
<![CDATA[
<h3 id="00023">00023</h3>
<blockquote>
<p>Why no, we dont mind much about competition, certainly
nothing wrong. Cant imagine someone to put all of their eggs
in one basket, especially when whatever it is they desire is
so valuable.</p>
<p>That said, our benefactor must be pretty eager to get these
crystals if hes willing to send out team after team. I mean,
were team 43, thats a lot of people to pay and a lot of
eagerness to find these crystals. Why is that? What benefit
are these shiny rocks to them? What even is their purpose in
retrieving them?</p>
</blockquote>
<p>“Oh, no no no, child,” Blavin titters as he takes a sip of
his ever-present martini. “You must understand, the Benefactor
is a singularly dedicated collector, and has been for ages!
There are—and have been!—many other retrieval teams, yes. But
not all of them have been for the crystals. And some of them
were formed, active, and disbanded long before you or I
arrived on the scene.” He winks at you conspiratorially.</p>
<blockquote>
<p>I would postulate, based upon the magical wards we had to
bypass, the cadre of gaurds that needed to be dispatched, and
the gigantic moth monster that rested beneath it, that these
crystals arent meant to go anywhere.</p>
<p>Now Im not trying to point fingers here, morality is many
shades of gray, and it isnt really my job to suss out what
youre doing. But Im a curious sysorceor, and when I see a
chance to learn I seize upon the moment. Theres something
here youre not telling us, and I for one and keen to know
it.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>“I wouldnt worry your wizened old brow about it,” Blavin
chuckles, sloshing his drink. “The Benefactors concern is
precisely the same as yours! These items are of enormous
cultural and historical significance, to say nothing of their
well of concentrated arcane energies. Theyre dangerous just
sitting out there in the world. Who knows who might come
across one and use it for nefarious purposes.”</p>
<p>YamLs eye widens and it seems to shudder at the mere
suggestion of evil.</p>
<p>“Did you say this one was in the hands of a giant moth?”
Blavin shudders with revulsion. “My word, man! Do you really
think such an overgrown insect is an appropriate guardian for
a beloved and dangerous cultural icon such as the Ginnarak
Crystal? Surely not!”</p>
<p>“No,” he sits back with a satisfied smile, “I think we must
all agree that they are safer in the public collection of a
competent and benevolent curator. Then everybody can enjoy
them safely!”</p>
<blockquote>
<p>META: Im gonna preface the sword speech with this to make
it quicker to write</p>
<p><strong>Yaml</strong><br />
I like what youre putting down here, this guy is DEFINITELY
evil. Nobody asks loads of people to steal things for them
without being evil. I say we stab him, nice and good, right in
the gut. Maybe 6 or 7 times. Im positive nobody will mind.
Evil people steal things, we saw that inky creature stealing
things from that vault, definitely evil. (singsong) Evil evil
evil, stab stab stab, make the evil go away with every little
stab~</p>
<p><strong>Corraidhin to Yaml</strong><br />
Dear sysadmins, once again, inky is not evil. They were
borrowing something that had been cast on the ground,
abandoned. Giving a tea set a good home is far from evil. But
you might be onto something about this Blavin fellow, but we
cant just stab someone in a busy pub! Besides youre a sword,
and stabbing someone in a pub is the job of a dagger. So
unless you can transform into the Dagger of Yaml I think
were out of luck here.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>YamL gets a curious look in its eye at the suggestion.
“CHALLENGE ACCEPTED!” it cries directly into your mind. It
squeezes its eye shut and trembles with intense concentration.
With great effort, the sword shrinks itself down to the size
of a dagger, shunting its extra mass off into yamlspace.</p>
<p>“There!” it says breathlessly, opening its eye wearily.
“Now, Hardy Bear. You promised..” it continues, its eye
glinting with growing ferocity. “Lets. STAB. THE HOBBIT!”</p>
<blockquote>
<p>While the wizard pressed Blavin about the crystals
secrets, Inky let their attention wander slightly around the
table.</p>
<p>They had agreed that Master Corraidhín and Jarrod, being
most wise and well-spoken, would question Blavin about the
crystal before they set off on their next mission. The party
had also befriended the duck unofficially dubbed their
marketing manager after the fluffy little creature had trailed
Inky all the way back to the Milk Market. Said creature now
occupied a small office to one side of the building complete
with a fountain, feathered up pillow and all the rummy worms
it can eat. Inky had tried getting the duck to communicate
with words by making them little croutons etched with letters,
but the only ones they would gobble up were Q-U-A-C-K.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>Your marketing manager moves into its office at the Milk
Market and seems to really be enjoying itself. It joins you at
Blavins table at Lucys Basement, cleaning its feathers and
chortling merrily to itself.</p>
<p>You and your tablemates take turns feeding it croutons and
bits of soft pretzel, and it seems very happy and content with
that.</p>
<blockquote>
<p>A familiar prickle, but passed quickly — Inky had gotten
used to the glares directed at them by the sysorceors
gleaming sword and resisted returning the stare with an
eyeroll. Watching Stabby eyeing up their case manager over
Master Corraidhíns shoulder reminded Inky of a conversation
they had overheard a few evenings ago between two pale coffin
sleepers about a new product from the hemogoblins that was
said to quench the thirst for longer than the leading brand.
They might be able to find some at the town of Plasma, which
sits by the Hartlands on the way to the shipwreck. It seems
the milky blood pudding could do with some improvement.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>You note on Blavins map that the Hemogoblin region is
indeed on the way to the shipwreck. At least, its not that
far out of the way. You reckon their synthetic blood product
would indeed be a much better substitute for the real thing
than the milk youve been feeding the thirsty sword thus
far.</p>
<p>Or, at the very least, youll get a new variant of the
blood pudding recipe youve been working on!</p>
<blockquote>
<p>Maybe someone elses mood will be improved in the meantime?
Before setting out for their meeting with Blavin, Inky slipped
into the kitchens downstairs and left the empanada chef a
trick-and-treat. A plate of honeyed breadfruit and ghost
pepper tapas sat on an icebox atop a new pair of Blueberry
oven mittens with a pattern of tiny smiling green turtles.
Tucked inside one mitten was a slip of paper (regrettably
inedible) that simply read “BACK SOON :)”. A tapa recipe,
which included a note on adapting the toppings for pan frying,
was printed on the reverse in neat blocky letters and
sandalwood ink.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>Enrique wakes in the middle of the night to start baking
the next days breads and empanadas. He frowns thoughtfully
when he sees yet another mysterious gift from across the room.
Again? What little elf must have taken up residence in his
shop? But his face cracks into a smile when he sees the
presentation and the oven mitts. And the smile becomes a
bonafide grin when he tastes the fare and finds the
recipe.</p>
<p>He taps his chin thoughtfully with one green claw as he
skims the note and looks through his pantry. He chops some
veggies and starts pan frying them.</p>
<p>Later, when the oven dings, he smiles to himself as he
pulls on the new turtle pattern oven mitts and opens it.</p>
<p>&gt; A) MORE QUESTIONING, OR B) TIME FOR SHIPWRECK?</p>
<p><a
href="https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-10/msg00008.html">www</a></p>
]]>
</description>
</item>
</channel>
</rss>

View File

@ -207,10 +207,12 @@
</header>
<nav id="TOC" role="doc-toc">
<ul>
<li><a href="#stats" id="toc-stats">Stats</a></li>
<li><a href="#about" id="toc-about">About</a></li>
<li><a href="#characters" id="toc-characters">Characters</a>
<ul>
<li><a href="#corraidhín" id="toc-corraidhín">Corraidhín</a></li>
<li><a href="#gabs" id="toc-gabs">Gabs</a></li>
<li><a href="#glarg" id="toc-glarg">Glarg</a></li>
<li><a href="#inky" id="toc-inky">Inky</a></li>
<li><a href="#jarrod" id="toc-jarrod">Jarrod</a></li>
@ -244,6 +246,8 @@ of the Were-Hare</a></li>
<li><a href="#00024" id="toc-00024">00024</a></li>
<li><a href="#00025" id="toc-00025">00025</a></li>
<li><a href="#00026" id="toc-00026">00026</a></li>
<li><a href="#00027" id="toc-00027">00027</a></li>
<li><a href="#00028" id="toc-00028">00028</a></li>
</ul></li>
<li><a href="#bestiary" id="toc-bestiary">Bestiary</a></li>
<li><a href="#geography" id="toc-geography">Geography</a></li>
@ -255,8 +259,11 @@ id="toc-acknowledgements">Acknowledgements</a></li>
<li><a href="#afterword" id="toc-afterword">Afterword</a></li>
</ul>
</nav>
<h2 id="stats">Stats</h2>
<p>Total length: 24524 words / 104 minute read.</p>
<p>There have been 98 messages posted over 108 days since the first post
on July 13, 2022 for a daily post rate of .90.</p>
<h2 id="about">About</h2>
<p>Total length: 21989 words / 93 minutes</p>
<p>This is a game that me and the kids in the basement are playing over
email.</p>
<p><a
@ -301,6 +308,38 @@ story entirely.</p>
<li>Retriever: Contractual Obligation, An Auspicious Start</li>
<li>Soulsword: Bloodlust</li>
</ul>
<h3 id="gabs">Gabs</h3>
<details>
<summary>
<p>Bio</p>
</summary>
<p>Gabs had a good life. Her little devil children were all grown adults
now, and she no longer wanted to toil away running a business. When she
initially shuttered her little tavern, she thought she might just
retire. She made it two whole years of working in a garden, occasionally
seeing grandkids, and reading romance novels. She eventually decided she
needed a vacation from her retirement and traveled to a nearby port
town. She was sure to find something fun to do there.</p>
<p>Gabs eventually sees Inquire Within, and the smell of debauchery
wafting from within made her miss her days gossiping at her tavern. She
enters and orders a terrible drink and listens and watches.</p>
<p>Hearing the tales being spun by Mister Three-Fingered, she decides,
“Ive never been on a ship, thats something that sounds exciting!”</p>
<p>Half-drunk and eager for something exciting, she will join on the
journey!</p>
<p>Gabs is a lanky older half-devil lady who is here to schmooze and
have fun!</p>
</details>
<ul>
<li>Player: archangelic</li>
<li>XP: 0</li>
<li>Skills: Do Anything 1</li>
<li>Equipment:</li>
</ul>
<p>Paths:</p>
<ul>
<li>Retriever: Contractual Obligation, An Auspicious Start</li>
</ul>
<h3 id="glarg">Glarg</h3>
<details>
<summary>
@ -440,10 +479,10 @@ class="uri">https://t.co/gA6hV6VKqm</a></li>
</ul></li>
<li><p>Cadence: Ill move the story along roughly once a week. Hopefully
that gives everybody time to post something and participate.</p></li>
<li><p>Inclusion over realism: If you disappear for a while and then
come back, your character will immediately reappear as though theyve
been there the whole time. Come and go as you please. Open door
policy!</p></li>
<li><p>Open Table / Inclusion over realism: If you disappear for a while
and then come back, your character will immediately reappear as though
theyve been there the whole time. Come and go as you please. Open door
policy! Drop in and drop out as you please.</p></li>
<li><p>Linearity: Respond only to the most recent email in the thread.
(We might play around with time later, but for now, lets keep it
simple.)</p></li>
@ -2674,9 +2713,236 @@ win.”</p>
way, then turns and saunters out the door, trading small quips with his
new (and now very drunk) tavern friends.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>You are at a small port town on the northern tip of Agendell, just
past the RanaFor Valley. The sun is bright and the wind blowing in from
the Sugrin Sea to the east is cool and salty. The floating island-city
of VayNeddas, bridging Agendell and Primora, can be seen very faintly
in the distance hanging in the northern sky.</p>
<p>Your faithful multibeast is carrying all of your supplies and gear,
which were generously provided to you by the indefatigable Blavin
Blandfoot. His arm in a sling, he kept up a constant nervous chatter as
he saw you off on your journey to recover the second Ginnarak
Crystal.</p>
<p>From here, you can easily provision a boat to take you out to the
site of the shipwreck just off the coast.</p>
<p>Or, optionally, you are very close to the Hartlands. It would be
quite easy to make a quick visit to hemogoblins and pick up some
synthetic blood for your experiments with the Sword of YamL.</p>
<p>The sword, incidentally, after finally tasting the blood of “evil”,
has remained sated and entirely inert and unresponsive this whole
time.</p>
<p>WHAT DO YOU DO:</p>
<ol type="1">
<li>TO THE SHIPWRECK</li>
<li>BLOODQUEST</li>
</ol>
<p><a
href="https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-10/msg00018.html">www</a></p>
<h3 id="00027">00027</h3>
<blockquote>
<p>Inky stares down at the package, weighing it on one hand.</p>
<p>It was lighter than it should be given the density of the contents
within, wrapped in straw and thick brown weight-absorbent parcel paper
for dry goods. Most of the clientele were merchants and cultists from
other parts of the continent who ordered pallets to be shipped back from
the port town and sold to select boutique grocers or spilled on altars.
Inside was a block of congealed synthetic blood shaped like a mud brick,
the dark crimson almost black under the shops dim light.</p>
<p>It was sheer happenstance that Inky had found this particular
supplier. Having been informed heir boat to the shipwreck would not
arrive for several hours, the members of their merry tea party had
wandered off to enjoy the local sights while they waited. Inky had
inquired about the hemogoblins and learned in passing that there was a
district at the western edge of the town where a smaller group had set
up warehouses, which would save them a two-day trip deep into the
Hartlands. The hemogoblins in the district were primarily wholesalers,
and it had taken some convincing before one of the proprietors agreed to
sell a block of it, along with assurances Inky would purchase
exclusively from him next time and in larger quantities.</p>
<p>Thin fingers fiddle with the string before the package was set to one
side.</p>
<p>What were they doing?</p>
<p>If quenching the thirst were so simple, wouldnt any student of magic
have already thought of it, let alone an experienced sysorceror? In all
likelihood he had already known the inevitable, but was too polite to
refuse Inkys funny concoctions. Maybe deep down, Inky already knew too,
but didnt want to say it out loud. That the long feather they thought
they had seen among the tea leaves was actually a dagger. That they
hadnt wanted to admit some problems could not be whisked away with some
tincture or another. That they had failed, again.</p>
<p>They hadnt searched enough for better ingredients to go into the
pudding, hadnt reacted fast enough after noticing the sword had
abruptly disappeared, hadnt thrown the large platter of mouldy meat the
terrified waitress next to them had been holding at Blavins head, or
something. The sword had gotten what it demanded, and Inky couldnt be
angry with it — it had never been subtle about what it wanted. Had the
blood pudding worsened the effects? Potions had never been on Inkys
menu. Brewing inks and teas with certain mild effects was
straightforward enough, but curing chronic ailments was firmly in
healers territory and just as bewildering. While it may be true nobody
could be held to account for the actions of another not in full control
of themselves, and hardly those of a rogue weapon with a mind of its
own, sticking their nose in other peoples affairs was the surest way to
get into trouble, a fact Inky still has difficulty learning after
decades of wandering the continent.</p>
<p>Would this substrate even work? Maybe it acted differently for cursed
objects than coffin sleepers. Having brought it back and now aboard the
ship, how would they even give it to the wizard? Should they wait and
made sure Master Corraidhín was truly rested and recovered, despite his
insistence he was more than fine? Would it be an insulting reminder of
weakness, despite the wizard having proven unusual mental fortitude in
staving off the screams for blood as long as he had? Was this more of
the same, adding to what they had (not) done?</p>
<p>After a long moment, Inky rolls the package with the producers
leaflet haphazardly in an old sailors rags still reeking of cheap
alcohol, and passing by the wizards empty cabin on the way to the deck,
places the messy bundle on the floorboards two steps from the door. Let
the fates decide this one, because Inkys magic 0 ball sure doesnt make
the best life choices.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>Blavin has arranged transportation to the shipwreck ahead of time.
All you have to do is head down to the docks and meet your contact,
Three-Fingered Gerald, at a seedy dive bar named Inquire Within Upon
Everything.</p>
<p>Inquire Within is as eclectic and gaudy as the name would imply. The
bar serves as an extensive and impressive piece of living documentation,
drawing heavily on the port towns cosmopolitan mixture of culture.
Every kind of style, cuisine, decor, and beverage can be found here
mishmashed together irregardless of good taste. Its contents are
encyclopedic and claustrophobic. And yet it is not without its own
peculiar brand of overwhelming, garish charm.</p>
<p>You find Mister Three-Fingered at the bar entertaining his fellow
patrons with a grotesque sleight of hand routine that involves passing
his gold-plated false eye from its socket, to either hand, inside his
mouth, and back with lots of flourish, fanfare, and misdirection along
the way.</p>
<p>He is a merry, boisterous sailor short one eye, half an ear, several
fingers, and—he confesses to you—the heel of his left foot. “Its why I
walk so slow, you see.” The other barflies call him “Lucky”
Three-Fingered Gerald. Because a certain kind of man—and Gerald is one
of them—can never have enough nicknames. After you buy him a drink or
three, he escorts you out of Inquire Within and to the slip where the
sloop <em>Diamond Howler</em> is docked. Its captain, Enid Barlow,
welcomes you aboard.</p>
<p>Before long, <em>Diamond Howler</em> pulls out under the command of
Captain Barlow and First Mate “Lucky” Three-Fingered Gerald. The site
isnt too far off the coast, and you arrive fairly quickly.</p>
<p>“Aye, here she is. The SS RSS.” says Captain Barlow mournfully. “You
cant see her from up here. But you rest assured, shes down there,
resting on the seabed. She was the best cargo runner on the Sugrin back
in her day! Distributing goods up and down the coast. Until the day she
disappeared. Nobody knew what happened to her, not for sure. Still
dont. But at least we know where she wound up!”</p>
<p>While the captain reminisces, Three-Fingered Gerald drags a large
water tank across the deck, sloshing water over the edge with each step.
Translucent orb-like jellyfish wobble around and bump into each other
inside the tank, releasing little effervescent bubbles that fizzle and
pop when they collide. “Here we go!” announces Mister Three-Fingered,
depositing the tank of jellies in front of you. “Sailed through a big
bloom of breathing bells just last week, didnt we! Managed to scoop up
a whole bunch of the little suckers. You ever use a breathing bell
before? No? Aw, its easy! Ya just pull one on over your head like a
hood, and itll breathe for ya while youre below the waves!”</p>
<p>WHAT DO YOU DO</p>
<p>NOTE: We just covered a lot of narrative ground. Feel free to react
to anything that happened between arriving at the docks, meeting Gerald
and drinking at Inquire Within, boarding the Diamond Howler, and sailing
to the site of the wreck.</p>
<p><a
href="https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-10/msg00020.html">www</a></p>
<h3 id="00028">00028</h3>
<blockquote>
<p><sub><em>a new player enters the chat</em></sub></p>
<p>Gabs had a good life. Her little devil children were all grown adults
now, and she no longer wanted to toil away running a business. When she
initially shuttered her little tavern, she thought she might just
retire. She made it two whole years of working in a garden, occasionally
seeing grandkids, and reading romance novels. She eventually decided she
needed a vacation from her retirement and traveled to a nearby port
town. She was sure to find something fun to do there.</p>
<p>Gabs eventually sees Inquire Within, and the smell of debauchery
wafting from within made her miss her days gossiping at her tavern. She
enters and orders a terrible drink and listens and watches.</p>
<p>Hearing the tales being spun by Mister Three-Fingered, she decides,
“Ive never been on a ship, thats something that sounds exciting!”</p>
<p>Half-drunk and eager for something exciting, she will join on the
journey!</p>
<p>Gabs is a lanky older half-devil lady who is here to schmooze and
have fun!</p>
</blockquote>
<p>~</p>
<blockquote>
<p>Meta: a warm welcome to the latest member of our tea party! This is a
short post to help smooth the temporal jumps between the recent
narratives so far. As Inky reaches the deck, they see Gabs approaching
from the other side of the ship as well, and flashes them a grin in
greeting. After listening to the captain petering on about the glorious
days of the now sunken ship below, while tinkering with the bells
tentacles — being rewarded with a mild zap and marginally better fit for
the effort — Inky turns to the party. “When youre ready.”</p>
</blockquote>
<p>You reach into the tank and discover that grabbing a breathing bell
takes some finesse. They are very slippery! But you get the hang of it
and make a ladle out of your hands and scoop one up.</p>
<p>“Okay now!” laughs Three-Fingered Gerald. He gives you a wink, but
its easy to miss because of the eyepatch. “Dont put it on until right
before you jump. It wont be able to breathe for you until youre in the
water. And this!” he continues, fitting a heavy, padded vest around your
shoulders, “will carry you down.” It is a vest of many pockets, each one
holding a small dense sandbag the size of your hand. “When youre ready
to come back up, just start dropping ballast, right?”</p>
<p>You hop up on the ship railing and pull the breathing bell on over
your head. It immediately contracts and squeezes and hugs your head like
a second skin, and its stubby little tentacles grab hold around your
jawline, and it feels like you have a wet plastic bag clinging to your
face, and you think you might have made a grave mistake. Resisting the
urge to panic, you push off the railing and jump overboard. You are
briefly air born and then profoundly waterbound, crashing through the
surface of the sea into the briny soup below.</p>
<p>The oxygen starts to flow as the breathing bell begins to do its job.
As you sink, you feel as though you are floating through space, entering
another world.</p>
<p>After a while you start to hear voices arguing in the distance. As
you get closer, two large shapes start to come into focus. The first is
a hulking, hairless merbear. Top half (hairless) bear, bottom half fish.
The second figure is a tardigrade the size of a large merbear. It has
eight jointless legs, each tipped with four sharp claws. It wriggles and
wobbles like jelly as it gesticulates.</p>
<p>“No, I am the true Bear of the Sea! I am called a Water Bear, after
all!”</p>
<p>“Hornswoggle and poppycock! It is I who am the Bear of the Sea! I am
half bear after all! Youre just some kind of segmented nematode or
something.”</p>
<p>The tardigrade quivers with indignation. “Ill have you know Im a
panarthropod, thank you very much. And this is the ideal physical body!
You may not like it, but this is what peak performance looks like. Ive
lived under the polar ice cap, and in a sulfurous mountaintop hot
spring. Ive traveled through the vacuum of space to the moon! Have you
ever been to the moon?”</p>
<p>“Why dont you go be the Bear of the Moon then if you like it so
much!”</p>
<p>“Youre just as much fish as you are bear, are you sure youre not
the Fish of the Sea?”</p>
<p>“Are you sure youre not the Blob of the Sea, you too many armed bowl
of jelly?”</p>
<p>“Hey! Hey, you there!” The arguing quasi-bears have spotted your slow
descent. “Come, yes, float slowly this way! You must settle an argument
for us! Tell this slightly mammalian fish that I am the true Bear of the
Sea!”</p>
<p>“The Bear of the Sea must be at least slightly mammalian you
egg-laying scientific curiosity! You, tell this cousin of a barnacle
that I—the mighty merbear—am the true Bear of the Sea! Say this and I
will guide and protect you on your journey.”</p>
<p>“No! Would you like to visit the moon? Say that I, tardigrade, am
Bear of the Sea and I will introduce you to my moon friends!”</p>
<p>“He had to make friends on the moon because nobody on Urth can stand
him!”</p>
<p>“Youre just mean, you know that?”</p>
<p>You are still quite some way from the sea bed, and there is no sight
of the SS RSS.</p>
<p>WHAT DO YOU DO</p>
<p><a
href="https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-10/msg00015.html">www</a></p>
href="https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-10/msg00023.html">www</a></p>
<h2 id="bestiary">Bestiary</h2>
<p>Some of the creatures who inhabit the world of Basmentaria</p>
<dt>
@ -2914,16 +3180,29 @@ manipulate cloudstuff into solid objects.
</dd>
</dl>
<h2 id="geography">Geography</h2>
<details>
<summary>
<p>Map</p>
</summary>
<figure>
<img src="map.webp" alt="Map" />
<figcaption aria-hidden="true">Map</figcaption>
</figure>
</details>
<p>Basmentaria is a group of islands that sits between the eastern
Sugrin Sea and the western Saldin Sea.</p>
<p>There is Primora, the northern somewhat banana-shaped island.</p>
<p>And there is Agendell, the southern also slightly banana-shaped
island. Its largest city is VayNullar, surrounded by the Gnomelands to
the south, and the Tammineaux Forest to the east. Beyond the forest is
the RanaFor Valley.</p>
<p>There is Primora, the sparsely populated northern somewhat
banana-shaped island. The city-state of Illivas, Primoras only densely
populated area, sits between Harshwind Glade and the mountains of Kelsun
Peak.</p>
<p>And there Agendell, the southern also slightly banana-shaped island.
Its largest city is VayNullar, bordered by the Gnomelands to the south,
and the Tammineaux Forest to the east. Beyond the forest is the RanaFor
Valley.</p>
<p>The two crescent-moon islands reach toward each other, and in the
center is Ginnarak, the small archipelago comprising the Cinderlands,
Ashen Vale, the Ember Steppe, and Drakspon Mountain.</p>
center is the archipelago of Ginnarak, comprising the Cinderlands, Ashen
Vale, the Ember Steppe, and Drakspon Mountain.</p>
<p><a href="#00022">00022</a></p>
<h2 id="cosmology">Cosmology</h2>
<p>In a fantasy setting where there objectively are deities who walk the
earth and interact with humans, “atheism” is sometimes erroneously used
@ -2976,26 +3255,29 @@ embers.</p>
</summary>
<p>NAMES AND NPCS</p>
<p>Upcoming NPCs and/or monsters</p>
<ul>
<li>zai-ni</li>
<li>zeyeknee</li>
<li>standard ed</li>
<li>three fingered gerald</li>
<li>paladin of emacs</li>
<li>monks of vim</li>
<li>gnu zealots</li>
<li>hinderbloke, gnu</li>
<li>falterchap, gnu</li>
<li>Hap-n-stance, moon rabbit: <a
<ul class="task-list">
<li><input type="checkbox" disabled="" />zai-ni</li>
<li><input type="checkbox" disabled="" />zeyeknee</li>
<li><input type="checkbox" disabled="" />standard ed</li>
<li><input type="checkbox" disabled="" />paladin of emacs</li>
<li><input type="checkbox" disabled="" />monks of vim</li>
<li><input type="checkbox" disabled="" />hinderbloke, gnu</li>
<li><input type="checkbox" disabled="" />falterchap, gnu</li>
<li><input type="checkbox" disabled="" />Hap-n-stance, moon rabbit: <a
href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Moon_rabbit"
class="uri">https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Moon_rabbit</a></li>
<li>Cyber Woman With Corn! <a
<li><input type="checkbox" disabled="" />Cyber Woman With Corn! <a
href="https://www.shutterstock.com/search/cyber-woman-with-corn"
class="uri">https://www.shutterstock.com/search/cyber-woman-with-corn</a></li>
<li>oracle - <a href="https://lambdacreate.com/paste/midjourney.png"
<li><input type="checkbox" disabled="" />oracle - <a
href="https://lambdacreate.com/paste/midjourney.png"
class="uri">https://lambdacreate.com/paste/midjourney.png</a></li>
<li>corn smut? - <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Corn_smut"
<li><input type="checkbox" disabled="" />corn smut? - <a
href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Corn_smut"
class="uri">https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Corn_smut</a></li>
<li><input type="checkbox" disabled="" checked="" />gnu zealots</li>
<li><input type="checkbox" disabled="" checked="" />three fingered
gerald</li>
</ul>
<p>CRYSTALS</p>
<p>Each crystal has an associated <em>element</em>, a <em>location</em>
@ -3047,20 +3329,19 @@ Discette = HD Diskette = better stay away from magnets!!</li>
building, lynx</li>
<li><input type="checkbox" disabled="" />MidJourney omen: priestly
blood, demon</li>
<li><input type="checkbox" disabled="" />・゜゜・。。・゜゜_o&lt;
QUACK!</li>
<li><input type="checkbox" disabled="" />palindromes: taco cat, reward
drawer, tin unit, lap pal, evil olive</li>
<li><input type="checkbox" disabled="" />The Benefactor is Nullar</li>
<li><input type="checkbox" disabled="" />Blavin is a secret agent,
working for the Golden Iris, a secret society that wants to create
balance by seating a fourth god</li>
balance by creating a fourth god</li>
<li><input type="checkbox" disabled="" />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 Nullars leg to stone. Now Nullar is trying
to gather the Ginnarak crystals to assemble the <em>God Slayer</em> to
attempt once more to end his own life.</li>
</ul>
<p>completed:</p>
<ul class="task-list">
<li><input type="checkbox" disabled=""
checked="" />・゜゜・。。・゜゜_o&lt; QUACK!</li>
<li><input type="checkbox" disabled="" checked="" />The gang has a
rival: the gophers of Retrieval Team 70</li>
</ul>