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<body>
<header id="title-block-header">
<h1 class="title">BASEMENT QUEST</h1>
</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>
<li><a href="#sneaky-willows" id="toc-sneaky-willows">Sneaky
Willows</a></li>
<li><a href="#tea-filler" id="toc-tea-filler">Tea Filler</a></li>
</ul></li>
<li><a href="#meta" id="toc-meta">Meta</a>
<ul>
<li><a href="#policies" id="toc-policies">Policies</a></li>
<li><a href="#mechanics" id="toc-mechanics">Mechanics</a></li>
</ul></li>
<li><a href="#paths-and-templates" id="toc-paths-and-templates">Paths
and Templates</a>
<ul>
<li><a href="#path-of-the-retriever" id="toc-path-of-the-retriever">Path
of the Retriever</a></li>
<li><a href="#path-of-the-soulsword" id="toc-path-of-the-soulsword">Path
of the Soulsword</a></li>
<li><a href="#path-of-the-tasseomancer"
id="toc-path-of-the-tasseomancer">Path of the Tasseomancer</a></li>
<li><a href="#path-of-the-were-hare" id="toc-path-of-the-were-hare">Path
of the Were-Hare</a></li>
</ul></li>
<li><a href="#chapter-1" id="toc-chapter-1">Chapter 1</a></li>
<li><a href="#current-story" id="toc-current-story">Current Story</a>
<ul>
<li><a href="#00021" id="toc-00021">00021</a></li>
<li><a href="#00022" id="toc-00022">00022</a></li>
<li><a href="#00023" id="toc-00023">00023</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>
<li><a href="#cosmology" id="toc-cosmology">Cosmology</a></li>
<li><a href="#history" id="toc-history">History</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>This is a game that me and the kids in the basement are playing over
email.</p>
<p><a
href="https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-07/msg00004.html">www
thread</a></p>
<p>You can <a href="#chapter-1">read from the beginning</a>, or jump
into the <a href="#current-story">current story arc</a>.</p>
<p>If youre not on the mailing list and want to keep up with the story,
you can <a href="https://tilde.town/~dozens/quest/rss.xml">subscribe to
the rss feed</a>.</p>
<h2 id="characters">Characters</h2>
<h3 id="corraidhín">Corraidhín</h3>
<details>
<summary>
<p>Bio</p>
</summary>
<p>They call me Corraidhín, and while my wisened age may seem an
impediment to our expedition I assure you I make up for it with my sharp
wit and intellect! By trade I am a scholar, master of the histories of
this realm, and a dabbler in the arcane and mystic arts.</p>
<p>I believe my skills naturally lend themselves to this expedition. Im
certain youll need someone to elucidate upon the history of these
artifacts, and should trouble come our way Im ready at hand with spells
a plenty. Im not the best with a sword, but can hold my own with a bow
staff, but it may be best to leave the fighting up to you younguns. If
we encounter arcane ruins or cryptic texts youll find my skills just as
useful as the finest blade in battle.</p>
<p>I think with my share of the reward Ill buy more books. Lots and
lots of books, a whole library of books! And then Ill start a library,
yes that sounds delightful. And maybe one of those books will have some
information on ridding me of that accursed demon, but thats another
story entirely.</p>
</details>
<ul>
<li>Player: sinatra</li>
<li>XP: 0</li>
<li>Skills: Do Anything 1, Arcane Lore 2, Sneak 2</li>
<li>Equipment: Sword of YamL, Ginnarak Crystal (Earth)</li>
</ul>
<p>Paths:</p>
<ul>
<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>
<p>Bio</p>
</summary>
<p>I am Glarg, an earth elemental who was conjured by a wizard who was
immediately beheaded after summoning me. By some freak accident I was
not sent back home to the earth elemental plane when the spell should
have ended. While I have learned the common tonge in my time on this
plane, I have not developed the ability to speak it, because I have no
mouth. Im a very gentle soul who is misunderstood because of my hard,
cold exterior.</p>
<p>Im pretty durable and good with rocks.</p>
<p>With my share of the money, I plan to hire a mage to send me home, or
turn everyone else into earth elementals.</p>
</details>
<ul>
<li>Player: kindrobot</li>
<li>XP: 0</li>
<li>Skills: Do Anything 1</li>
</ul>
<h3 id="inky">Inky</h3>
<details>
<summary>
<p>Bio</p>
</summary>
<p>Inkulos Iridis greets you merrily! Some call me Inky the Tiny because
of my slight size (perfectly average for imps, I assure you!) and a
fondness for ink.</p>
<p>I may be small and nowhere as battle-hardened as knights in shining
armour, but I can skip out of a monsters grasp before you can say
“scram!”, slip through the cracks (often unseen), scout for useful
items, and brew all kinds of ink with special effects for discerning
drinkers.</p>
<p>What do you plan to do with your cut of the money? Buy lots of ink
ingredients, of course! With the money, the very first ink patio with
the best paper nibbles will be opening to serve all from far and wide
very soon!</p>
</details>
<ul>
<li>Player: mio</li>
<li>XP: 1</li>
<li>Skills: Do Anything 1, Persuasive 2, Plantomancy 2</li>
<li>Equipment: Handy Duffer Discette, Fine Feathered Quills, Jade Tea
Set, Mountain Range Glyph Ink, Bead of the Werehare</li>
</ul>
<p>Paths:</p>
<ul>
<li>Retriever: Contractual Obligation, An Auspicious Start</li>
<li>Were-Hare: Lepusthropy</li>
<li>Tasseomancer: Reading</li>
</ul>
<h3 id="jarrod">Jarrod</h3>
<details>
<summary>
<p>Bio</p>
</summary>
<p>A broad-chested, olive skinned human finishes a pint of ale with a
long swig. He greets the group with a merry-looking smile, though it
doesnt seem to touch his eyes. He seems a touch distracted, as if
something else is on his mind. A feeling of lingering sadness touches
his aura.</p>
<p>“Greetings, my friends! My name is Jarrod. And this here …” he taps a
heavy warhammer leaning against the back of his chair “… is Gertrude.
When it comes to danger, consider us your shield. I will blunt what
dangers may come from ahead and protect those who shelter behind. Im
more than good in a fight, specializing in up-close battles and …” he
gives a small smirk “… alternative forms of negotiations.”</p>
<p>He leans over and places his elbows on the table, tenting his fingers
and leaning in with his chin touching them as he continues. A thin
leather cord adorned with small charms carved from bone is draped around
his left wrist.</p>
<p>“Other than that, Im willing to take on cooking chores and spin the
occasional tale around a campfire. My cut of the money goes towards
opening my own tavern when I retire.”</p>
</details>
<ul>
<li>Player: marcus</li>
<li>XP: 0</li>
<li>Skills: Do Anything 1, Oratory 2</li>
<li>Equipment: Fascinating Bangle</li>
</ul>
<p>Paths:</p>
<ul>
<li>Retriever: Contractual Obligation, An Auspicious Start</li>
</ul>
<h3 id="sneaky-willows">Sneaky Willows</h3>
<details>
<summary>
<p>Bio</p>
</summary>
<p>Im “Sneaky” Willows (nobody knows my actual name), an elvish
pickpocket with a love for sneakin, stabbin and music playin! Some
people say Im no good at music playin, but then I go sneakin and
stabbin em!</p>
<p>On this team I think Im gonna be good at sneakin up to those
crystals and grabbin em right from under the guards noses!</p>
<p>With my money Im plannin to hire a bard to teach me more music, so
I can really impress people with my playin and maybe not even have to
stab them!</p>
</details>
<ul>
<li>Player: nico</li>
<li>XP: 0</li>
<li>Skills: Do Anything 1</li>
</ul>
<h3 id="tea-filler">Tea Filler</h3>
<details>
<summary>
<p>Bio</p>
</summary>
<p>Who: Teefoon Filler of the Bucket, Knight of the 3rd order of
Balmarlovemeer, Crester of the Golden-Fringed Ridge and 2nd to the
Keeper of the Grimoire Glorious. You may call me “Tea.” (Tea is,
notably, a giant. ~11ft tall).</p>
<p>What: Retired Cleric turned Archeologist.</p>
<p>Cash: A sturdy wagon and 5 head of oxen to pull it. I wish to travel
further than my legs can take me.</p>
</details>
<ul>
<li>Player: eli</li>
<li>XP: 0</li>
<li>Skills: Do Anything 1</li>
</ul>
<h2 id="meta">Meta</h2>
<p>Welcome to Basement Quest!</p>
<p>Were gonna play this by ear, and cross each bridge only when we get
to it.</p>
<h3 id="policies">Policies</h3>
<ul>
<li><p>Safety: Practice safe roleplaying.</p>
<ul>
<li>X Card: <a href="http://tinyurl.com/x-card-rpg"
class="uri">http://tinyurl.com/x-card-rpg</a></li>
<li>TTRPG Safety Toolkit: <a href="https://t.co/gA6hV6VKqm"
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>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>
</ul>
<h3 id="mechanics">Mechanics</h3>
<p>Shoes in the Dark:</p>
<p><a href="https://dozens.itch.io/shoes-in-the-dark"
class="uri">https://dozens.itch.io/shoes-in-the-dark</a></p>
<p>To do something, say that you do it, and then it probably
happens!</p>
<p>If there is a risk, or chance of failure, well roll dice to
determine the outcome. Well use a variation of “Roll for Shoes” because
its probably the most simple system there is. Everybody will start out
pretty even skills wise. But you will eventually get really good at
really specific things.</p>
<p>Everybody starts with one skill: <em>Do anything 1</em></p>
<p>So to attempt to <em>do anything</em>, roll 1d6.</p>
<ul>
<li>1 - 3: Things go poorly. Gain 1 xp.</li>
<li>4 - 5: Partial success / success at cost</li>
<li>6: Great success!</li>
</ul>
<p>If you roll all sixes, you gain a new +1 skill which must be a subset
of the skill you just used.</p>
<p>Example:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>Player: I kick down the door. Ill roll Do Anything (1) aaaand,
thats a six!”</p>
<p>Referee: You now have “Kicking Down Doors 2”</p>
<p>Later….</p>
<p>Player: I bust down the door with a flying kick! Ill roll Kicking
Down Doors 2 aaaand, two sixes!</p>
<p>Referee: You now have “Doorbane 3”</p>
<p>Player: Siiiick, doors fear me.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>Every time you fail a roll, you gain 1 xp.</p>
<p>You can spend xp to turn any die into a six for the purpose of
advancement.</p>
<h2 id="paths-and-templates">Paths and Templates</h2>
<p>Templates are skills and abilities, organized into <em>paths</em>,
that players can discover and unlock through play as their characters
learn and discover more about the world.</p>
<p>They are the lambda calculus answer to “classes” in traditional
ttrpgs: a kind of anonymous class that everybody has access to, that you
can combine and mix and match.</p>
<p>How it works:</p>
<p>Each path has a bunch of templates.</p>
<p>Every template starts with a rank (a number), followed by a name (in
bold), a trigger (in parenthesis), and finally a description.</p>
<p>You can unlock any template by satisfying its trigger in-game,
provided you have already unlocked at least one template of every rank
below it, in the same path. (The exceptions are templates of rank zero,
which are the entry level templates for each path, and do not have such
a requirement.)</p>
<p>Example:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>Path of the Goblin Slayer</p>
<ul>
<li><ol start="0" type="1">
<li><strong>Favored Foe</strong> (Slay 100 goblins): You are now an
expert when facing this foe. From now on when attacking a goblin, a roll
of 5 - 6 is considered a critical success. 4 - 5 is a success. And 1 - 3
is a mixed success.</li>
</ol></li>
</ul>
</blockquote>
<p>The path is “Path of the Goblin Slayer”. The rank of the first
template is 0, so there are no prerequisites. (If it had been, say, 2,
then you would need to have unlocked a template of rank 1 and of rank 0
in the same path before unlocking this one.) The name is “Favored Foe”.
The trigger is “Slay 100 goblins”. And the perk is detailed in the
description.</p>
<h3 id="path-of-the-retriever">Path of the Retriever</h3>
<p>The Perks of the Job</p>
<ul>
<li><ol start="0" type="1">
<li><strong>Contractual Obligation</strong> (Agree to retrieve 5
crystals for the Benefactor): You have access to the Benefactors
resources through your handler, Blavin Blandfoot.</li>
</ol></li>
<li><ol type="1">
<li><strong>An Auspicious Start</strong> (Retrieve 1 crystal): You gain
a team of rivals: the Retrieval Team 70 gophers. If you dont have a 2
dice skill yet, gain one of your choosing.</li>
</ol></li>
<li><ol start="2" type="1">
<li><strong>Two In The Hand</strong> (Retrieve 2 crystals): Two in the
hand are technically worth four in the bush. Thats the going exchange
rate, anyway. Gain one 2 dice skill of your choosing.</li>
</ol></li>
<li><ol start="3" type="1">
<li><strong>The Triple Lindy</strong> (Retrieve 3 crystals): “Is that
hard?” “Its impossible.” Turn any 2 dice skill into a 3 dice
skill.</li>
</ol></li>
<li><ol start="4" type="1">
<li><strong>Pareto Roll</strong> (Retrieve 4 crystals): A mere 20% of
resources drive 80% of the outcomes. What does that have to do with
crystals? I dont know, but you have 80% of them now. From now on, you
can spend 1 xp to reroll any 1 die.</li>
</ol></li>
<li><ol start="5" type="1">
<li><strong>HOT TUB PARTY</strong> (Retrieve 5 crystals): You win a
visit to the Benefactors mansion, including dinner and a dip in the hot
tub!</li>
</ol></li>
</ul>
<h3 id="path-of-the-soulsword">Path of the Soulsword</h3>
<p>You have a unique bond with a sentient sword</p>
<ul>
<li><ol start="0" type="1">
<li><strong>Bloodlust</strong> (Discover and obtain a sentient, magical
sword): Your sword has a lust for stabbing that can only be satisfied
with blood. Your sword counts as a 3 dice skill when attacking, but you
must also roll to resist being overcome by a mindless bloodlust,
striking out at whoever happens to be nearby.</li>
</ol></li>
<li><ol type="1">
<li><strong>Spell Sword</strong> (Cast a spell on your sword after
satisfying its bloodlust): You can cast a spell on your sword to store
it for quick casting later: on your turn, if you hit with your sword,
you can automatically cast the stored spell in addition to doing damage
with the sword.</li>
</ol></li>
</ul>
<h3 id="path-of-the-tasseomancer">Path of the Tasseomancer</h3>
<ul>
<li><ol start="0" type="1">
<li><strong>Reading</strong> (Obtain a magical tea set): You can see
omens in the tea leaves left after drinking tea from your magic tea
set.</li>
</ol></li>
<li><ol type="1">
<li><strong>Ceremony</strong> (Perform a ritual tea ceremony every day
for a month): Time for tea! Once a day, you can announce a tea party,
temporarily putting an end to any hostilities for as long as it takes to
enjoy 3 cups of tea.</li>
</ol></li>
<li><ol start="2" type="1">
<li><strong>Steeping</strong> (Offer something of great personal value
to the teapot. It vanishes and does not return): Practically anything
can be steeped in your teapot to extract oils and soluables. Drinking
such a prepared concoction will temporarily grant you some aspect of
that which was steeped.</li>
</ol></li>
<li><ol start="2" type="1">
<li><strong>Gossip</strong> (Betray the trust of a loved one): During a
tea ceremony, you can compel one creature to answer one question
truthfully.</li>
</ol></li>
<li><ol start="3" type="1">
<li><strong>Blending</strong> (Create 24 different infusions): You can
steep two ingredients at once, gaining benefits from both when drinking
the infusion.</li>
</ol></li>
<li><ol start="3" type="1">
<li><strong>Scrying</strong> (Detain a guest at your tea ceremony for 24
hours): The precise location of anybody who drinks your tea is known to
you for 24 hours after they consume it.</li>
</ol></li>
<li><ol start="3" type="1">
<li><strong>Caffeine</strong> (Stay up all night drinking tea for 3
days): You can boost the stimulant effects of your tea. Perform a tea
ceremony forgo the need to sleep, while also gaining the benefits of a
full nights rest.</li>
</ol></li>
<li><ol start="4" type="1">
<li><strong>Bottomless Pour</strong> (Make a single pot of tea last you
three days): Your teapot always has one more cup of tea in it.</li>
</ol></li>
</ul>
<h3 id="path-of-the-were-hare">Path of the Were-Hare</h3>
<p>You have been cursed to wander this world; half man, half rabbit.</p>
<ul>
<li><ol start="0" type="1">
<li><strong>Lepusthropy</strong> (Gain the curse of lepusthropy): Every
full moon, you become a monstrous human/rabbit hybrid with an insatiable
craving for fresh vegetables.</li>
</ol></li>
<li><ol type="1">
<li><strong>Beast Sense</strong> (Talk to a rabbit): Rabbits and hares
will obey your orders. You can sense when there are rabbits or hares
nearby.</li>
</ol></li>
<li><ol start="2" type="1">
<li><strong>Hybrid Form</strong> (Embrace the curse): You can assume
hybrid form at will. Your sharp, pointy teeth do damage as a 3 dice
skill. You can only maintain this form for a short time, and are left
weak afterwards.</li>
</ol></li>
<li><ol start="2" type="1">
<li><strong>Beast Form</strong> (Meditate on the form of a rabbit every
day for a month): You can assume the form or a rabbit or hare. The
longer you maintain this form, the more risk you wont be able to change
back!</li>
</ol></li>
</ul>
<h2 id="chapter-1">Chapter 1</h2>
<p>This is the first installment of BASEMENT QUEST.</p>
<p>Jump to: <a href="#00001">1</a> <a href="#00002">2</a> <a
href="#00003">3</a> <a href="#00004">4</a> <a href="#00005">5</a> <a
href="#00006">6</a> <a href="#00007">7</a> <a href="#00008">8</a> <a
href="#00009">9</a> <a href="#00010">10</a> <a href="#00011">11</a> <a
href="#00012">12</a> <a href="#00013">13</a> <a href="#00014">14</a> <a
href="#00015">15</a> <a href="#00016">16</a> <a href="#00017">17</a> <a
href="#00018">18</a> <a href="#00019">19</a> <a href="#00020">20</a></p>
<h4 id="00001">00001</h4>
<p>“Congratulations!” The slightly tipsy hobbit grins and salutes you
with his martini. “On Retrieval Team 43s inaugural mission! Im so
excited for you, Im sure youll do fantastic!”</p>
<p>You are all seated around a table in the corner at Lucys Basement.
It is dimly lit and fairly noisy. The walls are covered in red velvet
curtains, and the tablecloths have little gold tassels. A cloud of
purple smoke from candles, cigars, and pipes hangs in the air. Waiters
bustle between tables refilling drinks.</p>
<p>“So to recap, the Benefactor has tasked you with retrieving the five
fabled Ginnarak Crystals. I, Blavin Blandfoot, will be your case
manager. You will be paid handsomely for each crystal you retrieve. And
if you retrieve all 5, youll get to meet the Benefactor at be their
guest at their <em>glorious mansion!</em></p>
<p>“The first crystal has been spotted near a Gnomish dig site in the
Tammineaux Forest, just east of here.”</p>
<p>“I recommend getting started right away!” He polishes off his drink
and squints at his empty glass. “Well, maybe first thing in the morning.
Waiter!”</p>
<ul>
<li>Who are you?</li>
<li>What role do you think you will fill on the team?</li>
<li>What do you plan to do with your cut of the money?</li>
</ul>
<p><a
href="https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-07/msg00015.html">www</a></p>
<h4 id="00002">00002</h4>
<p>Blavin provides you with a multibeast for your excursion. “Courtesy
of the Benefactor!” You pack it up with food and supplies, and trek into
the Tammineaux Forest in search of the first Ginnarak Crystal.</p>
<p>The forest is lush, thick, and green. You have to hack your way
through the vines and the brush. There are stinging insects, squawking
birds, and dangerous forest creatures a plenty. It is hot and
sticky.</p>
<p>How will you ever find your way through this wilderness to the dig
site?</p>
<p>“Shouldnt be too hard,” you remember Blavin saying back at Lucys,
gesturing carelessly and sloshing a little bit of his fourth drink.
“Theyre gnomes, after all! Just follow the sound of explosions and
screaming.”</p>
<p>Sure enough, before long you hear a mechanical droning and some
blasting up ahead, punctuated now and then by high pitched screams, and
you guide the multibeast in that direction.</p>
<p>Suddenly you are ambushed by a troop of blahoblins! Awful looking
things. Taut rubbery gray skin. Long flat noses stick out way far from
their faces. And so do their protruding, lipless mouths full of sharp
pointy teeth. You didnt hear them over the noise of the shrieking
parrots and, in the distance, the shrieking gnomes.</p>
<p>“SHOE SHINE!!” the first one yells. It is wearing a gold ring on each
finger (minus the three fingers it is missing), two in each ear, and one
in its nose. It is dragging a vat of black polish nearly as tall as it
is.</p>
<p>“SHOE SHINE!!” a second one agrees. It is wearing a nice waistcoat
with large gaudy buttons, and a nice looking pocket watch on a gold
chain. It is dragging a comfy looking chair stuffed with bits of fluff
and leaves and fur.</p>
<p>A third one screams, “SHOE SHINE SHOE SHINE!” It has several gold
teeth and carries a huge block of cheese secured to its back with long
loops of hempen rope.</p>
<p>The fourth and final one is wearing what looks like freshly painted
red shoes and is carrying a lit torch. “SHOE SHIIIIINE!” it screams. It
is wearing a gold medallion on a gold necklace.</p>
<p><a
href="https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-07/msg00015.html">www</a></p>
<h4 id="00003">00003</h4>
<blockquote>
<p>“SHOE SHINE!” Bellows Tea, with a full bodied laugh!</p>
<p>With a well practiced move, faster than one would think giant like
Tea could move, Tea removes an object from their satchel.</p>
<p>…at first glance it appears to be a flail without a handle, but is
actually a spare pair of giant boots, held by their laces.</p>
<p>“These could indeed use a good shining.”</p>
<p>The boot are spectacularly large, probably a 1/2 size too large, in
all honest, for even Teas feet.</p>
<p>The boots have gold eyelets.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>Earrings greedily snatches the boots and start washing, drying, and
polishing them to a shine. Waistcoat eagerly tugs on Teas wrist and
guides him to the comfy chair, which is decidedly too small for his
bulky frame. Teeth graciously offers him a wedge of cheese.</p>
<p>Depending on how observant Tea is, he may or may not notice that the
boots are returned to him with 1 - 3 fewer eyelets.</p>
<blockquote>
<p>Bending down, Inky sniffs the bottles carefully, mumbling, “Creosote,
shellac, hopweed … ou, wild cherry liquorice.” Then, a little louder to
one of the blahoblins, though it came out not much more than a squeak,
“Might I ask from where did you get these?”</p>
</blockquote>
<p>“Shoe Polish! We Make! Roots and ash!” shouts Waistcoat. They seem to
only have the one volume.</p>
<p>“Beeswax!” yells Earrings.</p>
<p>“Resin!” cries Teeth.</p>
<p>“SHOE SHIIINE!” they all cry in unison.</p>
<p><a
href="https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-07/msg00022.html">www</a></p>
<h4 id="00004">00004</h4>
<blockquote>
<p>“And jolly good polish too, it looks like,” Inky replies, squinting a
bit at the ichor being smeared onto the boots in Earrings large
calloused hands. “I hear there be some gnomes hereabouts? A camp? With
your remarkable service, I bet theyd be coming to you all the time to
get their boots cleaned.”</p>
</blockquote>
<p>“GNOMES!?” Earrings interrobangs loudly and questioningly. It brings
its hands to the sides of its face, covering its ear holes, and wags its
oversized head in dismay, squeezing its tiny eyes shut. In the process,
it smears polish around its face.</p>
<p>“Gnomes there!” shouts Waistcoat. Its hands busy polishing, it tosses
its head, gesturing with its prodigious proboscis in the direction you
were heading. You continue to hear bangs and booms in the distance every
once a while.</p>
<blockquote>
<p>Glarg gurgles something to the effect of “gluggurguuuurglaaaachhhh?”
Its stance is one of surprise as its disposition changes to that of
inquisition as its head cranes down to look at the blahoblin carrying
the smelly rock on its back.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>Teeth looks questioningly up at Glarg and experimentally gargles back
up at it. “GURGLE BURBLE GLUG GLUG?” It smiles apologetically (a
fearsome sight, its protruding jaws full of tiny pointy teeth) and
shrugs and asks, “Shoe shine?”</p>
<blockquote>
<p>It attempts to pick that whole blahoblin up and bring the smelly rock
to its face for a closer inspection.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>“WAAAAAAH!” Teeth kicks its feet ineffectively and is quite
helplessly tied to the big smelly rock when Glarg picks it up. The
smelly rock smells pungent, sharp, earthy, moldy. Definitely could be
food.</p>
<p>By this time the blahoblins have polished the shoes of everybody who
has consented to it, and are packing up. Except for Teeth who is being
detained by the earth elemental.</p>
<p>Red Shoes reappears from wherever they have been this whole time with
a sly smile and rejoins its comrades.</p>
<p>Your pockets have successfully been picked while you were distracted
with the shoe shine, but not of anything of particular value.</p>
<p>What small item(s) will you notice is missing in the hours and days
to come? How will its absence be a minor inconvenience?</p>
<p><a
href="https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-07/msg00031.html">www</a></p>
<h4 id="00005">00005</h4>
<blockquote>
<p>As the blahoblins were packing up, Inky persuades Waistcoat to sell a
few small bottles of shoe polish, a roughly round piece of broken glass
and scraps of cheesecloth from the mountain of debris previously on the
ground. Inky rolls Do Anything 1 and rolls a 4.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>Inky successfully persuades Waistcoat to sell a few baubles and
trinkets with the first roll of the game!</p>
<p>They haggle back and forth a little bit, and Inky ends up paying a
little more than they wanted to, but they get all the stuff they wanted.
Yay commerce!</p>
<p>Having concluded business, the blahoblins pack up and disappear into
the bushes toting their chair, cheese, and vat of polish.</p>
<p>The sound of mechanical droning and periodic explosions compel you
forward to the dig site.</p>
<p>It is easy to find.</p>
<p>It is a large hole blasted deep into the ground. There are drills,
and conveyor belts, earth moving machines, and all kinds of gadgets and
gizmos, the purpose of which is not always readily apparent. And there
is a zip line that seems to be the only way down to the bottom.</p>
<p>The site is absolutely teeming with gnomes. Diminutive humanoids with
bright red noses and long, long ears, and long, nimble fingers. All
gnomes are compulsive tinkerers and mechanics, and build fantastic
contraptions. All gnomes are women, and are all highly explosive. Which
makes their combustion powered machines extremely dangerous, both for
themselves and for any unfortunate bystanders close enough to get caught
in the blast.</p>
<p>A gnome in a white hat comes running up to you. “You there! Hey! Yes,
you!”</p>
<p>“Are you the retrieval team? Weve been expecting you! The whole dig
is halted because we accidentally blasted into a whole nest of Kobits,
and they wont let us get near to keep digging! They keep sabotaging our
machines when we try!”</p>
<p>“They also stole the Ginnarak Crystal that we found! That thing could
have powered such glorious new machines!” She pouts.</p>
<p>In the background, a gnome who had crawled half way into a coal bin
in the side of some kind of excavator suddenly scrambles quickly out,
smoking, and runs around in circles in a panic. Nearby gnomes dive out
of the way as she erupts in a small ball of fire. The gnomes wait for
the smoke to clear and then immediately return to working on the
contraption.</p>
<p>The foreman continues talking to you as though nothing happened. She
leads you over to the edge of the hole and points to the bottom.</p>
<p>“The entrance to their cave is right down there! The zip line is the
second fastest way down.”</p>
<p>WHAT DO YOU DO</p>
<p><a
href="https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-07/msg00035.html">www</a></p>
<h4 id="00006">00006</h4>
<p>Suddenly three anthropomorphic gophers come crashing through the
trees behind you into the dig site. The first is wearing a sash of many
pockets. The second is wearing cargo shorts of many pockets. The third
is wearing a vest of many pockets. Each wears a pair of goggles with
thick smokey black lenses, and a floppy checkered hat that looks like a
waffle.</p>
<p>They march up to the zip-line.</p>
<p>“Out of the way, losers!” Sash cries. It grabs the zip-line trolley,
and immediately dives off the side of the cliff and zooms down into the
deep, deep hole.</p>
<p>Vest introduces itself, “Retrieval Team 70 here! We are here to
recover the Ginnarak Crystal that is reported to be at this location.
After we collect all five, then it will be <em>us</em> who get to hang
out in the Benefactors hot tub! Not you! Ha!”</p>
<p>Sash has reached the bottom of the deep, deep hole. Shorts starts
reeling in the pulley.</p>
<p>Vest leans in close and peers at you through its foggy lenses. “You
must be the new Retrieval Team 43. Hmmph. Shame what happened to the
previous Team 43. Hope you know what youre doing! Would hate to see you
end up like them!”</p>
<p>Shorts grabs the trolley and leaps down into the deep, deep hole. It
sails all the way down, and joins Sash at the bottom.</p>
<p>“Welp!” Vest concludes with an air of finality. “No hard feelings,
and all that! After we collect this crystal, we just need four more. And
then we get to meet the Benefactor! Ha!”</p>
<p>It waddles off and starts reeling in the trolley.</p>
<p>Meanwhile, another gnome explodes behind you.</p>
<p>WHAT DO YOU DO</p>
<p><a
href="https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-07/msg00036.html">www</a></p>
<h4 id="00007">00007</h4>
<blockquote>
<p>Inky peers down at the hole, and after some time, turns to the party.
“Do you think theyve cleared most of the gnomes by now, or should we
wait until they emerge and grab the crystal then?” Gazing at some
invisible spot farther among the trees, Inky continued, “One of the old
miners back at the tavern said there used to be a natural maw on the
southwestern side, but it was blocked when the tunnel caved in many
years ago. The gnomes dont waste their efforts on blowing up things
knowing someones already been through them. Chances are theres only
one exit, unless this mine is a decoy.”</p>
</blockquote>
<p>Inky peers down the hole and watches Retrieval Team 70 approach the
kobit caves.</p>
<p>The maw on the southwestern side did indeed collapse several seasons
ago. If you know anything about the industrial and intrepid kobits
however, it is that they have probably dug several alternative, secret
entrances since then.</p>
<p>Just as the gophers reach the cave entrance, a large erge, muscles
rippling beneath its white feathers, emerges from behind a boulder and
blocks their way forward.</p>
<p>It raises the feathery crest on the crown of its head, and fluffs up
its plumage in a dramatic display. It appears to be arguing with the
gophers. All three gophers appear to be arguing back.</p>
<p>The egre gestures angrily at the gophers feet, shakes its head, and
crosses its arms defiantly. The gophers look down at their own feet and
shuffle about as though embarrassed.</p>
<p>They all exchange a few more words and then the gophers retreat away
from the egre and the cave entrance. They huddle together briefly and
then start slowly climbing the scaffolding back up to the top of the
hole.</p>
<p>“Oh yeah,” the foreman remarks absentmindedly. “Theres an egre
guarding the kobit caves.”</p>
<p>The egre below preens and struts about proudly having chased off the
gophers.</p>
<p>“Stubborn things,” the foreman continues. “Easily provoked to
violence. Impeccable fashion sense though.”</p>
<p>WHAT DO YOU DO</p>
<p><a
href="https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-08/msg00003.html">www</a></p>
<h4 id="00008">00008</h4>
<blockquote>
<p>Inky blinks down at their pinecrab apple leather boots consideringly.
“Teas got the fanciest footgear, but at least we arent sporting fetid
foot fungi like stockings. Maybe we could persuade the egre to let us
through? It might set us back half a day trying to find any kobit holes
that arent just non-portable potties.”</p>
</blockquote>
<p>You look down at your boots. How serendipitous that you just had them
shined by the blahoblins! You feel confident in your footwear.</p>
<blockquote>
<p>Corraidhín: I may have a solution to the Egre problem. I gesture
grandly, as it so happens I always come prepared for a fashion show.</p>
<p>With a grand gesture I cast a spell to transform my robes into a
stunning suit, complete with top hat, monocle, and cane</p>
<p>Im certain we can convince the fine fellow to let us pass if we look
the part. Or better yet, Im almost certain I can distract him while the
rest of you sneak past, Ive been told I can be quite verbose and
boisterous.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>Corraidhín successfully conjures up a stunning suit, surely the envy
of every dandy, fop, and gentleman in the southern continent, if not all
of Basmentaria!</p>
<p>A nearby gnome gets flush, starts to fan herself excitedly, and then
explodes dramatically.</p>
<blockquote>
<p>“A splendid idea, with an equally splendid outfit to match!” Inky
exclaimed. “Then, shall we proceed? Master Corraidhín, at your
signal.”</p>
</blockquote>
<p>You proceed down into the gnome hole.</p>
<p>Retrieval Team 70 glares at you from behind their smoked glass
goggles as you zip line past them. They continue their slow, defeated
climb up the scaffolding. Vest shakes its gopher fist at you and swears,
“You havent seen the last of us, Retrieval Team 43!”</p>
<p>At the bottom, on solid ground, you approach the entrance to the
kobit caves.</p>
<p>Standing guard at the entrance to the kobit tunnels is a massive
egre, a fearsome bird beast, muscles rippling and bulging beneath its
beautiful white plumage. It turns its head and regards you with one jet
black eye and then the other, snapping its sharp beak in the air as it
tosses its head back and forth.</p>
<p>It looks you up and down, and its gaze rests on your freshly polished
shoes. It huffs and grunts, “Your shoes look clean.” It rests its
scrutinizing gaze on Corraidhíns garments. “And YOU look FABULOUS!” it
exclaims as it tosses its head and beats it wings excitedly.</p>
<p>“You may enter.” It graciously steps aside with a flourish.</p>
<p>The smallest of you can stand upright in the kobit tunnels. The
largest of you have to crawl.</p>
<p>Kobits are small, vaguely mammalian, vaguely reptilian bipedal cave
creatures. They are scaly and furry, and live in tunnels deep in the
earth. They have huge yellow eyes, and long fine whiskers on their
snouts and faces, all of which help them find their way around in the
dark. They also have long, thick, coarse, drooping mustaches. The
overall effect is that they look like tiny, monstrous, perpetually
startled cowboys.</p>
<p>You follow the winding tunnel down into the earth.</p>
<p>You come around a corner and almost bump right into a kobit. It has
eyes like saucers and an awe-inspiring mustache. It wears a name tag
(“Corey”) and carries a clipboard. It blinks at you in surprise and then
asks, “Who are you? What are you doing in here?” Corey flips through the
pages on its clipboard. “There are no upsiders scheduled to arrive
today. I dont think youre supposed to be here!” Corey glances around
nervously with its huge eyes and looks about ready to cry out for
help.</p>
<p>WHAT DO YOU DO?</p>
<p><a
href="https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-08/msg00012.html">www</a></p>
<h4 id="00009">00009</h4>
<blockquote>
<p>Inky smiles at Corey. “Hullo! Were the waterworks crew from the
neaby town, here to check the outhouse tunnels, inspect all the pipes
and so on. We received reports of a blockage somewhere inside the
networks. Have the tunnels been flushing well lately?” While speaking,
Inky flashes a waterworkers ID briefly at the kobit before pocketing it
and pulling out a pressure gauge, giving the little handle on one side
of the device a few cranks, and looking back at Corey expectantly.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>Corey slowly blinks its eyes. “Inspektor?”</p>
<p>ASIDE: I rolled for Inky and rolled a six, which according to the
rules means GREAT SUCCESS, and also Inky gets to Level Up: they gain the
skill Persuasive 2.</p>
<p>“Of course! Inspektors! Yes, yes, right this way! A surprise
inspection, how exciting!”</p>
<p>Corey continues to chatter excitedly as it leads you further into the
branching, winding tunnels, pointing out particular bits of stonework
and engineering, and also baubles and trinkets and fossils and artifacts
that the kobits uncovered in the process of digging their tunnels.</p>
<p>Your tour eventually brings you into a large cavern with tunnels
exactly like the one from which you just entered branching off in all
directions. It makes you dizzy to think of finding your way through this
labyrinth without a guide.</p>
<p>In the middle of the cavern is a deep pool with a fountain. At the
bottom of the pool, a SWORD is thrust into the ground almost up to its
hilt. A large jewel set deep in the pommel rolls around like an eye in a
socket and tracks your movement around cavern. A few bubbles float up to
the surface of the pool.</p>
<p>And set into the wall on the far side of the room is a massive stone
door reinforced with thick iron bands. There is a keypad and a small
printer on the wall next to it.</p>
<p>“….and so our tour concludes here in the central atrium!” Corey
concludes excitedly. “Behind this door is the VAULT, where we keep all
the valuables. Gemstones, gold, crystals, et cetera.”</p>
<p>“Top notch security!” Corey exclaims tapping the keypad. The printer
spits out a square of paper. It reads</p>
<pre><code>ed v1.16
*
?
*
?
*e door
19
*,n
1 the door is Locked
*wq</code></pre>
<p>“Ha ha!” Corey shakes its head in amazement. “I have no idea how this
thing works!”</p>
<p>The eye in the sword watches as Corey clips the small printout to its
clipboard.</p>
<p>“Now, I trust youll find that everything was in tip-top order! Yes,
indeed!” Corey wriggles its mustache proudly. “Now if youll excuse me,”
it flips through the pages on its clipboard, “I am late for my next
appointment. Good day!” Corey turns and walks toward one of the twisty
little passageways, all alike.</p>
<p>WHAT DO YOU DO?</p>
<p><a
href="https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-08/msg00016.html">www</a></p>
<h4 id="00010">00010</h4>
<p>Once Corey the Kobit exits the antechamber, you are free to look
around a little bit.</p>
<p>The eyesword continues to watch from the bottom of the pool, and the
Kobit Ed terminal continues to await you by the vault door.</p>
<p>But also you notice a couple of alcoves along the walls between the
twisty little passages. Each of them holds a relief sculpture depicting
one of the three deities of Basmentaria.</p>
<p>There is Neddas, the wise god of sages and starlight. Androgynous,
clad in purple robes, depicted with a golden third eye in the middle of
their forehead. They are shown here stoically bestowing gifts upon the
inhabitants of Basmentaria.</p>
<p>And here is Nullar, god of time and tides. A bespectacled male figure
with a golden third eye on his forehead. He is dressed in a dapper vest
and bow tie, and is adorned with small cogs and gears. He is depicted
here looking up at the stars from a mechanical contraption he is working
on.</p>
<p>Finally, there is Liandt, goddess of war and flame. A primal,
elemental deity, she is depicted as a fiery warrior with a golden third
eye. The relief shows her on the battlefield during the Artifice wars.
The wars which reduced Ginnarak to the wastes of cinder and ash that
they are today. The wars which drained Liandts divine energies so
thoroughly that she fell into a deep sleep and has been absent from the
mortal realms ever since.</p>
<p>But enough of this lore dump! There is something important
happening!</p>
<p>You hear a shuffling and a mumbling approaching from one of the
twisty little passages.</p>
<p>Youre already in one of the alcoves studying the relief, so your
press yourself flat into the recess.</p>
<p>Three gophers with smoked glass goggles spill out from one of the
passages. Retrieval team 70! They made it past the egre after all!</p>
<p>They dont see you, but head straight to the keypad by the vault.
They crowd around it and start pressing buttons, arguing and bickering
with one another.</p>
<p>The sword at the bottom of the pool seems to roll its eye in
exasperation.</p>
<p>WHAT DO YOU DO?</p>
<p><a
href="https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-08/msg00017.html">www</a></p>
<h4 id="00011">00011</h4>
<p>The Retrieval Team 70 gophers are absolutely losing their minds over
the ed terminal.</p>
<p>“It just keeps printing a question mark!” Vest sobs.</p>
<p>“Try pushing escape?” suggests Shorts somewhat panicking.</p>
<p>“Ive tried it! Its not vi! It doesnt do anything!” Vest moans.
“Here you try it if youre so smart!”</p>
<p>Sash is balled up on the floor crying, having already had a turn at
the terminal.</p>
<p>Shorts carefully steps over them and timidly prods at the keypad.</p>
<p>A throng of beefy guard kobits come charging into the hall, alerted
by the gopher racket.</p>
<p>“Here now! Youre not supposed to be in here!”</p>
<p>One of them trips over Sash, still balled up on the floor, and
crashes into Shortss back, pinning them to wall. They squeal. Another
guard grabs Vest by the collar, and after a brief scuffle all three
gophers are escorted out of the hall despite their howls of protest.</p>
<p>“I had better check on the vault!” exclaims one of the kobits who
remains behind.</p>
<p>They bang a few keys on the terminal and it spits out a slip of
paper.</p>
<pre><code>ed v1.6
19
P
*,n
1 the door is locked
*1s/locked/open
?
*H
no match
*1s/Locked/Open
the door is Open
*wq
17</code></pre>
<p>There is a mechanical whir deep in the walls, and a click and a gasp
of air as the door swings inward.</p>
<p>The kobit slips into the vault and the door swings only partly closed
behind it.</p>
<p>The sword in the bottom of the pool pointedly narrows its eye at
you.</p>
<p>The gods of Basmentaria observe passively from their reliefs in the
alcoves around you.</p>
<p>The door to the vault is ajar, the first of the five legendary
Ginnarak crystals presumably behind it.</p>
<p>From one of the twisty little passages, you hear a guard kobit
approaching, singing a sad cowboy song to itself.</p>
<p>WHAT DO YOU DO</p>
<p><a
href="https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-09/msg00001.html">www</a></p>
<h4 id="00012">00012</h4>
<blockquote>
<p>Harrumph I say as I billow out my mustache. I know exactly what this
is, Ive seen these silly terminals at the wizarding academy.
Fascinating little babbles really, not that easy to use, and I find
theyre easier to melt with a well placed fireball or two, but I think I
can get us past without that. Now I might need someone to cover for me
if that Kobit catches onto what Im doing, and Ill say the weird sword
is starting to creep me out a bit.</p>
<p>Corraidhin approaches the terminal, cracks his knuckles, and enters:
1,$p</p>
</blockquote>
<p>The printer spits out a piece of paper:</p>
<pre><code>The door is Locked</code></pre>
<blockquote>
<p>Corraidhin stares at the paper. Well, thats not right, the doors
only partially closed. Preposterious thing.</p>
<p>Thats okay, I know how to fix this.</p>
<p>19 c there is no door, there never was, and never will be. Also the
Kobit guard forgot to tie his shoes. . w 1,$p</p>
</blockquote>
<p>The printer spits out a slip of paper.</p>
<pre><code>there is no door, there never was, and never will be. Also the Kobit guard forgot to tie his shoes.</code></pre>
<p>With a soft pop, the thick stone door vanishes.</p>
<p>The sword at the bottom of the pool widens its eye in surprise.</p>
<p>Nothing remains between you and the interior of the vault.</p>
<p>Some light from the hall spills in and glints off what appears to be
a mound of gold, gems, and crystals. The rest of its contents are hidden
from view unless you venture inside.</p>
<p>You can still hear the guard kobit in the passage, now whistling a
warbling, lamentful tune. It sounds dangerously close. Best get a move
on if you want to avoid a confrontation.</p>
<p>WHAT DO YOU DO</p>
<blockquote>
<p>While the wisened scholar inspects the vault door, Inky walks a few
steps from the antechamber to meet the Kobit guard, pressure gauge and
tiny notebook in hand. Inky proceeds to ask them about water flow sounds
in the surrounding area, water stains, signs of potential pests that
could damage the pipes, and other rather boring elements pertaining to
modern Basmentia burrow plumbing.</p>
<p>After a while, seeing as they have been conversing for some time,
Inky pulls out two small bottles of chilled arrowroot beer from a waist
pouch and offers one to the Kobit guard.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>The big guard kobits eyes start to glass over as Inky goes on about
water pressure and structural integrity.</p>
<p>But it does graciously accept a bottle arrowroot beer.</p>
<p>“Well, golly, dont mind if I do!” It cracks the lid off, toasts to
your health and takes a long swig.</p>
<p>“Aaaaaaaah! That hits the spot!”</p>
<blockquote>
<p>Corraidhin absentmindedly inspects the terminal and door while Inky
converses with the guard. Hes utterly distracted and talking to
himself.</p>
<p>By the gods, its gone. Just like that! I thought itd fizzle or
something, but its gone! I wonder what else I can do with this
thing.</p>
<p>Corraidhin wanders back to the terminal and enters another
command.</p>
<p>19 c The wise and elderly Corraidhin is now a young and dashing
rogue, with a very nice hat. .</p>
</blockquote>
<p>The printer spits out a slip of paper:</p>
<pre><code>?</code></pre>
<p>Maybe the ed terminal only has jurisdiction over the door to the
vault.</p>
<p>Or maybe the machine, the universe, or whatever, is telling you not
to push your luck.</p>
<p>By now the big guard kobit, lulled by Inkys questions and finally
sedated by the alcohol, is slumped and snoring softly in the mouth of
one of the twisty little passages.</p>
<p>You stand before the open vault under the ever watchful gaze of the
sword at the bottom of the pool of water in the center of the room.</p>
<p>WHAT DO</p>
<h4 id="00013">00013</h4>
<blockquote>
<p>Psst, Inky, can you poke your head into the vault, see if you can
spot any crystals. Also, can you tell what kind of golds in there?
Maybe its worth something to nab a piece of two for ourselves, you
know, since were so good at vault cracking.</p>
<p>While you do that Im going to take a closer look at this sword, its
giving me heeby jeebies.</p>
<p><em>I cast a spell on the sword to identify its physical, magical,
and metaphysical properties</em></p>
<p>“Strange sword, I command thee to divulge your secrets! All that you
are of, exist in, and imbue from shall be wrought in words of sorcercy
so that the world my see clear what you are!” I chant as I invoke
ancient runes with my wand.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>Corraidhín commands the sword commandingly. But the sword just rolls
its eye and looks at him exasperatedly.</p>
<p>Hmm. Yes, no mouth. Well then.</p>
<p>Corraidhín draws on his mastery of Arcane Lore, and sifts through all
the knowledge he has filed away on magical swords. There are so many
books on magic swords!</p>
<p>While at first you guessed that it may merely be a common Look Sword,
you have since revised your initial assessment. Look Swords are minor
magical items, and are not quite as sentient as this particular blade
appears to be.</p>
<p>No this must be something a little more special.</p>
<p>Its hard to tell from herethe water is not perfectly clearbut the
pattern on the hilt is kind swirly and whirly. Probably a Sword of
Omens.</p>
<p>Unless…</p>
<p>No, its so unlikely.</p>
<p>And yet.</p>
<p>If the pattern on the hilt turns out to be more whirly than swirly,
then it probably is indeed a Sword of Omens.</p>
<p>But on the other hand, if it is more swirly than whirly, its
possible that this may be then legendary Sword of JSon.</p>
<p>If only you could get a closer look…</p>
<blockquote>
<p>Inky nods and peeks inside the vault, while keeping an ear open for
any sounds coming from the tunnel where the guard kobit is currently
sleeping soundly. Small mountains of ancient gold, some as coins and
some in nuggets of various shapes and sizes, filled most of the cavern
floor. In one corner were a few chests overflowing with rubies and
emeralds, with the occasional amethyst and tiny pink diamonds. Whoever
had this vault set up has amassed a nice hoard!</p>
<p>Inky whispered back, “Some good old gold! There are also little
crystals in one of the chests, but I cant tell if any of them is a
Ginnarak.”</p>
</blockquote>
<p>Inky hears the drunken cowboy Kobit guard snoring gently. It whistles
adorably a little bit at the top of each exhale.</p>
<p>You peek inside the vault just in time to see the lone Kobit guard
that went inside to check on the vault. It yelps and trips over its own
feet.</p>
<p>Its shoes were untied.</p>
<p>There are indeed piles of gold, gems, and crystals. Chests full of
precious stones. A few suits of armor. For some reason, a giant clam,
mouth open to reveal a giant pearl.</p>
<p>And in the center of it all, atop a stone pedestal, beneath a dome of
glass, is the blue and gold Ginnarak Crystal. It is the size of a melon,
and kind of shaped like one. A lumpy, multi-faceted blue and gold
melon.</p>
<p>Flitting around the pedestal are a couple of Aurs. Giant ears with
bat wings. Very keen hearing obviously. Usually more of an annoyance
than a true deterrent. Unless theres a Centaur around. Nasty things
those. A hundred ears with a hundred wings. The size of a small horse.
They can really ruin your day. Luckily you dont see one around.</p>
<p>Finally, curled up on the ground at the base of the pedestal, hugging
a mound of gold coins like a body pillow, is a nude Kobit, sound asleep.
It stretches briefly in its sleep and when it does, you are astonished
to see that it has large leathery wings.</p>
<p>WHAT DO YOU DO</p>
<p><a
href="https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-09/msg00011.html">www</a></p>
<h4 id="00014">00014</h4>
<blockquote>
<p>Jarrod wanders into the vault. Spotting the Aurs and the Kobits, a
slow grin starts to spread on his face. Taking a deep breath in, he
gestures grandiosely around him and booms: “Ah! Come gather round! Hear
a tale of Triumph! Of Heart! … Maybe even a bit of Nirvana!”</p>
<p>He saunters over to the giant open clam and poses grandly nearby. His
eyes sweep across the Kobits, attempting to catch the eyes of each one,
as he begins to tap the fingers of his left hand rhythmically against
his thigh, mimicking a heartbeat.</p>
<pre><code>&quot;Our tale begins with a hero, though one not oft recognized,
Weaving bureaucratic mysteries across parchment with zeal,
Though held to account, and by all accounts terrorized,
By small minded yes-men with power and zeal!
Yes, our hero of sorts did not act and avail,
He gave others their tasks to be done.
No pleasure he gleaned from the mop or the pail,
And yet here we begin with the fun!&quot;</code></pre>
<p>Thus has the epic begun, and Jarrod is pushing the rhythm of the
words hard, attempting to draw all eyes and ears to himself.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>Broad-chested, olive-skinned Jarrod launches into the epic, flanked
on one side by a giant clam and on the other side by a suit of
armor.</p>
<p>The aurs, enraptured, immediately flutter down to rest at his feet to
listen to the poem.</p>
<p>The one Kobit that tripped over its own feet rolls over where it lays
on the ground and listens with naked admiration.</p>
<p>The naked, winged Kobit rouses from its sleep at the noise with a
groan. It grouchily rises to its feet, flaps its wings a few times, and
soars up into the air.</p>
<p>“My name,” it cries out, “is HORSE! BhrruUHRHUuHRRh! Behold my
majesty! BrUHrhHHHURHuRu! You shall not steal my blue and gold,
melon-sized gem! BhrruUHRHUuHRRh! I have such beautiful WINGS!”</p>
<p>The aurs and the clumsy Kobit all start to fidget as Horses outburst
threatens to break the spell of Jarrods captivating oration.</p>
<blockquote>
<p>“Excellent!” Corradihin whispers to Inky nudging her gently as he
does. “It looks like Jarrod has the Kobits covered, Im gonna make a
break for the sword, Im decently, somewhat, sort of positive that its
the legendary sword of Jason. But if Im wrong and its cursed watch my
back. I might need a quick save.”</p>
<p>Corraidhin makes a step forward, “Oh and Inky, if Jarrods
distraction goes awry, shout, Ill come in fireballs blazing. I highly
suggest a rapid retreat if it comes to thay.”</p>
<p>Corraidhin darts towards the sword scrambling over the terrain while
the actions on the vault. As he approaches the sword he asks the sword
if it wouldnt mind coming along for a bit of adventure, and he grabs it
by the hilt.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>Corraidhín wades resolutely into the pool. The water rises up to his
knees, his hips, his shoulders, and finally he dives under about 10 feet
to the bottom of the pool. The eye of the sword stares at him with great
intensity as he descends.</p>
<p>The mage reaches out and firmly grasps the hilt.</p>
<p>You feel a jolt, and the eye rolls back in its socket.</p>
<p>You yank on the sword and it budges not one bit. Not one iota!</p>
<p>You go to adjust your grip. But your hand is stuck fast! Glued to the
hilt of the sword!</p>
<p>You look up at the surface of the water, some 10 feet above.</p>
<p>You look down at the sword that refuses to release you.</p>
<p>You look more closely at the pattern on the hilt. Egads! Why did you
not see it before? The pattern is neither whirly nor swirly at all! It
is in fact kind of spacey and indented.</p>
<p>This is not the legendary Sword of Json! Its so obvious! How could
you have been so mistaken! This is none other than the infamous Sword of
Yaml. Yaml is of course a superset of Json, so it is an easy enough
error to make. And perfectly harmless in an academic setting. It is
however a costly miscalculation to make while glued to a sword at the
bottom of a fountain.</p>
<p>You lungs start to burn a little bit, and you hear a spectral,
burbling, significant whitespace voice in your head as the sword makes
intense eye contact with you:</p>
<pre><code>---
name: Yam&#39;l
conditions: {&quot;stuck&quot;: &quot;true&quot;, &quot;sticky&quot;: &quot;true&quot;}
greatest desire: stabbing
...</code></pre>
<p>And then an expectant pause, as though the sword eagerly awaits your
reply.</p>
<blockquote>
<p>Inky watches Master Corraidhín make his way towards the creepy sword
with two drams of admiration and a tiny dose of apprehension. Taking out
a small wrench, a pouch of nuts and bolts, along with some gum twine,
Inky crouches near the vault archway, listening in a little on Jarrods
epic tale about the unsung hero of sanitation while occasionally looking
into the pool.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>Inky, from the best seat in the house, hears Jarrod launch into an
epic poem, and also the beating of leathery wings and a mighty whinny
and a neigh.</p>
<p>They also watch Corraidhín dive to the bottom of the fountain, and
then thrash about a bit with one hand on the hilt of the eye sword.</p>
<p>WHAT DO YOU DO</p>
<p><a
href="https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-09/msg00015.html">www</a></p>
<h4 id="00015">00015</h4>
<blockquote>
<p>Jarrod raises his right hand and begins adding a new rhythm to his
beat by slapping his palm against his chest. The resulting beat sounds
eerily like a galloping horse. Jarrod pushes his voice outward and
upward, directing his vocal energy at HORSE.</p>
<pre><code>&quot;A mighty steed did carry our hero through forest, hill and town:
A comely beast with silky mane and smooth and supple hide.
One would think that such a stallion needs must have renown,
But only our dear hero understood, and so did ride.&quot;</code></pre>
<p>Jarrod subtly adjusts the rhythm to a fast, regular beat.</p>
<pre><code>&quot;Lightning of the hoof!
Fire in the eye!
One with blowing wind!
Strength of mountain high!&quot;</code></pre>
<p>Jarrod slowly calms the beat back down to a heartbeat with his left
hand fingers on his thigh again. However, the right now rests close to
Gertrudes handle, at the ready.</p>
<pre><code>&quot;On fated day, our hero does require
Underlings for which a task is set.
And yet, this day the underlings and squires
Have booked their time away from toil and fret.&quot;</code></pre>
<p>While continuing the epic, Jarrod makes note of two options, should
he need them:</p>
<ol type="1">
<li>Should he need, he can dive behind the giant clam; and</li>
<li>He eyes a path back out the vault, should he be able to draw the
Aurs and Kobits out with him.</li>
</ol>
<p>Jarrod keeps his eyes on HORSE, attempting to react to whatever HORSE
brings.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>HORSE gives a snort, a groan, and a sigh as the beat of the poem
accelerates to a trot, and turns its subject to matters of its own
interest. Namely, himself. HORSE likes to hear its own name, and it
likes to hear people pay tribute to it with verse. Which is 100% what it
thinks is going on here.</p>
<p>HORSE beats its wings a few times and then flaps over to where Jarrod
is delivering his oration. It stands a little too close, basking in the
glory of Jarrods verse.</p>
<p>There is now gathered at Jarrods feet three Aurs; one clumsy Kobit
with untied shoe laces; and one naked, winged Kobit named HORSE.</p>
<p>The blue and gold, melon shaped crystal in the center of the vault
has been left unguarded. It hovers, suspended, beneath its glass dome on
top of its pedestal, revolving slowly in place. It looks like a weird
tiny asteroid. The veins of gold in the stone pulse lightly with
otherworldly energy.</p>
<blockquote>
<p>Damn it Corraidhin thinks to himself, here I am yet again at the
bottom of some insipid pool stuck by some random magical thing all
because I didnt pay enough attention in mythical history class. Bloody
hell!</p>
<p>Good thing I paid attention in sorcery and yesteryears secrecry
administrivia, this little sword wont stay stuck for too long! My lungs
if I bungle this though..</p>
<p>Corraidhin quickly invokes a spell with his spare hand, casting
mystical runes with his hand.</p>
<pre><code>sudo chmod -t sowrd_of_yam\&#39;l
sudo chmod 775 sword_of_yam\&#39;l
sudo chown corraidhin:party sword_of_yam\&#39;l</code></pre>
<p>That should do it corraidhin thinks to himself. If not Im going to
need to think quick, Im stuck and theres no way up without this sword.
I might be able to transmute the water into air around me, but probably
only a small pocket which will surely disappear in a gasp. Alternately I
could try and blast my way down, creating a pocket for the water to flow
into, but Id be willing to bet Ill hurt myself in the process..</p>
</blockquote>
<p>You trace some watery runes, invoking Sudo to bend reality to your
will.</p>
<p>The unschooled masses sometimes erroneously assume that Sudo is a
deity in its own right. Theres a certain misguided logic to it: an
invisible force that governs the relationships between entities, and
infallibly predicts how they will behave? Certainly, it must be an all
powerful, godlike entity.</p>
<p>You and your ilk, of course, know that theres no more intelligence
behind Sudo than there is behind gravity. No need to correct them
though. Sometimes it behooves the mage to allow others to think that
they serve an unfathomable arcane lord.</p>
<p>There is a dull underwater flash and a muted underwater bang, and you
feel the sword slip from its stony clinch like a knife tearing through
soggy bread.</p>
<p>You push up off the bottom of the pool and rocket to the surface,
helpedsurprisinglyby the sword, which remains glued fast to your hand,
but which also rises above you as though somehow lighter than water.</p>
<p>You break the surface of the water and hear joyous laughter.</p>
<pre><code>&quot;Oh, yes! Well done, Hardy Bear! So very well done indeed! Oh, I had spent so long trapped at the bottom of that pool waiting for a new bear to come and free me. And now here you are! Oh, what a very good day this is. What a magnificent pair we shall be.
&quot;Now, let&#39;s go stab some evil!&quot;</code></pre>
<p>You look down at the sword in your hand, and the eye twinkles at you,
full of adoration and zeal.</p>
<p>A small wine pitcher splashes into the water next to you. It is
attached to a thin hose, at the other end of which Inky sits on dry
land, drinking a cup of tea. They wave.</p>
<blockquote>
<p>Inky squints at the silhouette underwater, slightly distorted by the
occasional ripple on the surface, trying to decipher the odd hand
gestures and wisps of light coming from below. Why was Master Corraidhín
repeatedly forming semi-circles with his finger, almost like … the
handle of a teacup? Was it a request for tea?</p>
<p>After a pause, Inky rummages inside a bag and brings out a large
porro and a long rubber hose. The porro is filled with a demi-tasse of
black grapefruit pekoe from a flask and the spout plugged with an
eldarberry-flavoured gummy pen nib. Inky strings together a handful of
brass nuts with twine and ties it to the porros handle to act as a
small weight, then affixes the hose tightly to the open top of the
porro. Casting a slightly apologetic look in the direction of the water
for a brew long since gone cold, Inky swings the hose and flings the
drinking vessel into the pool towards Master Corraidhín, watching for a
moment as the porro sinks down into the water to hover near his arm. The
other end of the hose is tied securely to a narrow rock on one side of
the pool with more twine, the end sticking up in the air like a wiggling
snorkel.</p>
<p>Inky returns to crouching near the vault entrance and looking inside
another small pouch for fresh tea leaves. Waiting is thirsty work!</p>
</blockquote>
<p>You cast an improvised lifeline to the floundering wizard, and find a
cache of very fine fermented tea leaves wrapped in waxed paper that you
left for yourself at some point in the past. How thoughtful and
considerate of Past You!</p>
<p>From your vantage point, the sleepy guard Kobit still shows no sign
of stirring. And Jarrod has a throng of captive beasts listening very
intently to his stirring, epic poem. HORSE in particular seems to be
gaining some kind of physical sustenance from the words, snorting and
whinnying and beating its wings with each new stanza.</p>
<p>If you can slip through the doorway without disturbing them, there
will be nothing between you and the now vulnerable Ginnarak Crystal.</p>
<p>WHAT DO YOU DOOOOOO</p>
<p><a
href="https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-09/msg00019.html">www</a></p>
<h4 id="00016">00016</h4>
<p><em>RETCON!</em></p>
<p>Before Corraidhín ascended to the surface of the pool….</p>
<blockquote>
<p>As Corraidhin finishes his incantation a small porro drifts down
bonking him on the head. Startled corraidhin begins to move around in
the pool trying to find his assailant.</p>
<p>“By the gods what in the world is in this pool with me!” he tugs
frantically on the sword, and as he does so the porro drifts into view.
“Oh wait, that..” his eyes follow the rubber hose attached to it up to
the top of the pool. “Ah ha!” he exclaims immediately inhaling a mouth
full of water and frantically pulling the porro from the hose with his
spare hand and teeth. Corraidhin sucks greedily at the air the hose
provides as he becomes acutely aware of the burning sensation in his
lungs.</p>
<p>The porro drifts wistfully to the bottom of the pool, just out of
reach. A dark liquid rises from it as it comes to rest on the bottom of
the pool.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>And now back to our show!</p>
<blockquote>
<p>After heartily congratulating Master Corraidhín on his successful
sword acquisition in hushed whispers and finishing off a cup of
blackcurrant tea, Inky retrieves the porro from the bottom of the pool
with a fishing pole and a few recasts. (Calling that gnarly stick with a
line, bottle and hook slightly bent out of shape on one end a fishing
pole would be an affont to any self-respecting fisherfolk though.) Inky
rinses the pitcher and hose before stowing them away again in the bag
along with the pole and other ink brewing paraphernalia.</p>
<p>Refreshed, Inky slips noiselessly inside the vault, edging along the
wall on the farther side from the crowd now wholly enraptured by
Jarrods grand recital. Seeing the crowd pacified and giving Jarrod a
thumbs-up, Inky unfurls a long and dusty bolt of dark cloth with the
words “UNDER MAINTENANCE — NO UNAUTHORISED ENTRY [by order of the
Basmentaria Bureau of Sanitation]” in roughly-scrawled letters tacked
onto it, and hung the ends of the cloth so it spanned and completely
obscured one side of the vault.</p>
<p>Standing behind the makeshift inspection site, Inky proceeds to fill
several sacks with gold and gems using a small shovel, before putting
one of the sacks into their Hacky Duffer Discette (its capacity for
large storage and small weight is a blessing in disguise for both
aspiring and afflicted collectors alike).</p>
</blockquote>
<p>You successfully cordon off a corner of the vault and set up a very
convincing UNDER CONSTRUCTION banner. It looks straight up like a 90s
website.</p>
<p>You start shoving bags of treasure into your HD Discette, but it only
accepts 1.44 bags before running out of space. You you leave the
remaining bags for the others.</p>
<p>During your excavation, you find a complete set of magnificent,
ornate, gold-nibbed quills, and also a small wooden rack of bottled
ink.</p>
<p>There are a dozen small bottles all arranged in a row, each one with
a different mysterious glyph, the contents all a slightly different
shade. As you handle the rack, the ink sloshes around inside. It could
still be good!</p>
<p>The fine wooden rack encloses them all and holds them in place by
means of the lid, which closes securely around the bottle necks. Once
you open the lid, you can easily retrieve and stow the bottles.</p>
<p>You also spot a fine jade teapot. A matching set of small cups—no
handles, no saucers—cluster around the pot like nursing pups.</p>
<blockquote>
<p>Corraidhin clambors out of the pool, magical pokey stick in hand.</p>
<p>Good show! He exclaims to himself and the sword. Now I can finally
get a good look at this sword, though for some reason I cant seem to
let go, I guess for now I wont lose it.</p>
<p>You said you wanted to do some stabbin right? Of evil things? What
constitutes evil my pointy new friend?</p>
</blockquote>
<p>The sword does indeed remain steadfastly glued to your hand. As you
swish it around you discover that it seems to get lighter when you hold
it aloft, and that it trembles and grows increasingly heavy as it
descends. The sensation is almost as though it has a hollow core in
which some kind of heavy liquid sloshes around. And as though its blow
would be devastating.</p>
<p>The sword relishes being wielded and swung, and grows more and more
ecstatic. Its eye darts menacingly back and forth, vanquishing imaginary
enemies with each jab.</p>
<pre><code>Yes! Yes, I am made for a singular purpose. To RID EVIL. To root out evil, spill its blood, and then do it again! So let&#39;s go find some evil, Bear! And then you can just stab it with me.
Oh, what constitutes evil, you ask? In my experience, evil can&#39;t help but make itself known. You&#39;ll know it when you see it.
For example, see there? That little inky fellow sneaking into that treasure room? Probably super evil. We should go investigate.</code></pre>
<blockquote>
<p>As corraidhin questions the sword he wanders towards the vault
peering in to inspect Jarrods performance. Hes really good at that,
what do you think? Actually what do I even call you? Do you like
nicknames? I was thinking pointy, or stabby, but Im open to
suggestions, respect and all that.</p>
<p>Oh hey, the crystal! It looks like its unguarded! Corraidhin slinks
towards the crystal muttering to his magical sword as he does.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>The sword is momentarily distracted by the Aurs and Kobits. Its eye
widens. It almost seems to shudder with anticipation.</p>
<pre><code>EEEEEVIL! Rid. Evil. Spill. Repeat.</code></pre>
<p>You are thankful that the voice seems only to be heard inside your
own head.</p>
<pre><code>Oh, my name? I&#39;m sure I had one at some point. Long forgotten by now. No matter, I&#39;m not sad about it. One has no use for a name when instead they have a singular, all-consuming purpose!
But, my last Bear called me her Bee. I quite liked that. The bee in her bonnet! Ha! Evil, fear my sting!</code></pre>
<p>The sword prattles on in your head as you sneak past Jarrods
monstrous storytime and approach the pedestal. Or is it a lectern?</p>
<p>You arrive unseen. The crystal is a dazzling deep blue, with pulsing
gold veins. It is oddly shaped, somewhat like an egg. And it floats,
rotating slowly, suspended in air beneath the glass dome that encloses
it.</p>
<p>Drawing on your knowledge of Arcane Lore, you remember that the five
Ginnarak Crystals played a key role in the Artifice Wars that once
rampaged across all of Basmentaria. They are sources of tremendous
power. Some say that, the five of them together, they could kill a god.
Youre not sure you believe that. But they did definitely reduce the
once lush and verdant island nation of Ginnarak to cinder wastes and
deserts of ash. A cataclysmic event that put a resolute end to the
Artifice Wars.</p>
<p>You look around the vault. Jarrod is reciting epic poetry and
mesmerizing the monsters. Inky is pillaging and looting. You have a
bloodthirsty, sentient sword in one hand; and a large arcane battery of
a crystal within reach of the other.</p>
<p>WHAT DO YOU DO</p>
<p><a
href="https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-09/msg00023.html">www</a></p>
<h4 id="00017">00017</h4>
<blockquote>
<p>While Inky packs the top of a sack with a thin layer of earth from
under a loose rock, they feel a heated glare in their general direction
for a few beats and surmises Master Corraidhín had entered the vault
with his newfound companion. After decades of serving rather … demanding
customers as an inkling, Inky knew an evil eye directed at them even
when they cant see it (while preparing a brew with their back turned,
for instance) and makes a mental note to give Pointy a wide berth.</p>
<p>Once the sacks were placed close to the vault entrance for a quick
haul, Inky returns to the items that had been discovered while digging
under the loose rock. The set of gold-nibbed quills were swiftly
pocketed — each quill was finely crafted and felt balanced when held in
one hand. The malleable tips in a range of sizes would be invaluable for
testing ink viscosity and smoothness, among other properties. A
felicitously fantastic find!</p>
<p>The jade tea set was next to be admired, its deep green hue
reflecting the age of the stone from which the items were carved. With
cups for every member of their merry group, the teapot would make a
worthy addition to any travelling, crystal-seeking tea party. So thin
and translucent were the small cups, having been expertly crafted, that
they were almost too fragile to carry around everywhere. A
non-shattering charm was often applied to heirloom sets meant to be
passed down through generations, but it is difficult to tell by looking
whether a set had been charmed unless the spell was a particularly
strong one. The teapot and cups were returned to the small wooden box
they were found in and stored away. Perhaps a few crockery talismans
could be procured at the next town?</p>
<p>Inky pauses at the rack of bottled ink. The first rule that any
inkling in training learns is to never trust pre-bottled inks from
unverified ingredients or unknown sauces. Inky tilts the rack to better
examine the weird yet vaguely familiar glyphs on the bottles.</p>
<p>The first glyph was a circle with three dots. The bottle next to it
was adorned with a swirl, followed by a bottle with a circle surrounding
a pointing hand or a snail. Another glyph looked like a twisted hook,
and was that some sort of sinister grinning reptile on the next one??
Towards the middle of the rack was a bottle with a glyph of what could
be a mountain with a tunnel at its base. The bottle beside it bore a
glyph of a block broken to three pieces. Yet another bottle was simply
stamped with a circle and a dot at its center. Its neighbour held a
glyph that slightly resembled a mountain range if someone stared very
hard. The next two bottles bore glyphs that looked like a spiky fish and
a circle with a pair of horns protruding from it. The last bottles
contents seemed more gooey than the others, with a glyph of a
helmet-wearing hare.</p>
<p>The shade of ink within the bottles varied, but all seem to be
derived from the same indistinct hue. None of the bottles had the usual
piece of ash paper with bits of string attached to them, but otherwise
appear to be intact and the vessels themselves top quality, as shown by
the delicate tarring on the caps. The wooden rack was lightly worn but
solid in Inkys hands.</p>
<p>It was certainly an odd collection. “No hash, no stash” though, as
the rule of thumb goes. Inky puts the rack down carefully on the floor
by the sacks, concluding that if anyone wanted to help themselves to the
bottles, they were hopefully not planning to ingest the contents.</p>
<p>Dusting off their boots, Inky settles just behind the banner, closer
to the vault entrance and rousing performance, to watch the crowd around
Jarrod and listen for any sounds from outside the vault.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>You pack up the quills and the jade tea set, and arrange the bags by
the vault entrance for quick retrieval.</p>
<p>As you carry the rack of ink bottles over to the bags, the twelfth
and final ink bottle, the one with the glyph of the helmet-wearing hare,
suddenly cracks. Seemingly of its own volition. A tiny shard of glass
slices the palm of your hand and disappears into the meat at the base of
your thumb. The gooey ink seeps out of the bottle and paints your hand a
muddy, rusty blue.</p>
<p>You jerk your hand back. The ink is swiftly absorbed into your hand
as though it were a sponge. Soon its all gone: the ink, the blood, all
of it. Nothing remains of the scratch itself but a hair-thin line. If
you run your finger over it, you can feel the hard nub of the glass
shard beneath the skin.</p>
<p>For a moment you can hear the double drum of your own heartbeat
rushing through your ears. Your senses seem to sharpen. Colors grow more
crisp, and sounds more clear. But then it passes, and the moment is
gone.</p>
<blockquote>
<p>Harrumph, pointy my friend, thats just inky. Theyre definitely not
super evil. Thats the finest ink craftsmen and tea preparer this side
of Basementaria. And we absolutely wont be stabbing them. There are FAR
eviler things to stab, potentially that weird naked thing that seems to
think itself a horse. I could be convinced IT was evil, but wouldnt use
attacking it unprovoked make us evil? Surely a sword as ancient and wise
as you could see the perfectly puzzling philosophical delimna we put
ourselves in.</p>
<p>And then this thing, (corraidhin gestures at the crystal), horrible
magical item used to create untold death, destruction, and mayhem during
the last Artificer war. Definitely probably evil, if used that way, but
also filled with untold power that could be used for good! Now would the
person weilding it be evil just because, or could someone overcome the
magical nature of a device capable of such evil and apply them for good?
I for one believe afirmatively that one can overcome such things.</p>
<p>As corriadhin finishes his philosophical prattling to his new stabby
friend he pushes the glass case off the crystal and grabs it.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>The Sword of Yaml starts to launch into a long winded reply.</p>
<pre><code>Oh yes, that winged naked thing is surely evil. Let us stab it, Hardy Bear! Let us stab and stab and stab until --- What&#39;s that? Oh no, don&#39;t worry. We are unquestionably, infallibly good. I was designed and made for but one purpose, after all. TO RID EVIL! As for the crystal, yes, I suppose you are correct. Wielding a powerful, bloodthirsty, magical item probably does make the wielder evil, and consequently immediately deserving of being stabbed! Say, speaking of stabbing ... that naked, winged thing--</code></pre>
<p>But then, before the sword can finish its thought (a thought, you are
quite confident, would end with something like, “lets stab it!”) you
knock the glass dome off the pedestal and grab the Ginnarak Crystal.</p>
<p>You brace yourself. It thrums slightly in your hand but doesnt do
anything overtly magical or destructive. In fact it seems perfectly
inert.</p>
<p>So there you are. A pointer murder stick attached firmly to one hand,
and a potential atom bomb of a crystal in the other. But you think
youre totally going to pull this off!</p>
<p>Then the glass dome hits the ground and shatters into dozens of
pieces.</p>
<p>HORSE screams and whips around at the noise. “BhrruUHRHUuHRRh! My
blue and gold melon sized gem! Noooooo! BrUHrhHHHURHuRu!”</p>
<p>It flaps its wings and wheels up into the air and swoops down at you!
The three aurs get swept up in the excitement and start flapping around,
making tiny squeaks of alarm. The remaining kobit leaps to its feet, but
then trips over its shoelaces.</p>
<p>WHAT DO YOU DO??</p>
<p><a
href="https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-09/msg00026.html">www</a></p>
<h4 id="00018">00018</h4>
<blockquote>
<p>From their spot behind the construction banner, Inky pulls a pewter
bowl, a large wooden spoon and a set of silver spoons from their brewing
kit. In one quick fluid motion, Inky strikes the bowl with the wooden
spoon. The sound reverberates soulfully through the domed cavern of the
vault, like a call to meditation. The kobits too, seem to recognise that
single, sonorous note.</p>
<p>After a long pause, Inky taps several silver spoons in rapid
succession against one another and on a small rock. The result can be
barely heard by everyone in the vault except the aurs, for whom the
sounds may resemble the soothing trickle of pebbles flowing along the
path of a tunnel.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>A rich tone permeates the vault. The Aurs cease their squeaking. You
dont hear them say this, but you imagine theyre thinking, “Oh shit, I
still need to log my sit for Sitember..” And they flutter down to the
ground and sit in a circle and close their eyes and are still.</p>
<p>You also hear a deep rumbling somewhere beneath you in response to
the gentle call. Some of the gold coin dunes start to shift and spill. A
suit of armor falls over. HORSE and the clumsy kobit halt their advance
and look around nervously, and then bolt for the front door of the
vault.</p>
<p>“BrUHrhHHHURHu-RUN!”</p>
<p>UH OH WHAT DO!!</p>
<p><a
href="https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-09/msg00028.html">www</a></p>
<h4 id="00019">00019</h4>
<blockquote>
<p>Why Stabby, it looks like we wont need to stab Horse at all, but are
you any good at stabbing armor?</p>
<p>Corraidhin stuffs the melon shaped gem into his knapsack and rushes
towards Inky and Jarrod. Best to get this party started in style
Corraidhin says as he casts a fireball at the suit of armor, followed
closely by a second, and a third.</p>
<p>As corraidhin reaches Inky and Jarrod he raises the Sword of Yaml
ready to fight. Stand and deliver you curr!</p>
</blockquote>
<p>The trigger happy mage rushes toward the vault exit, flinging a
couple of fireballs over his shoulder as he goes.</p>
<p>Stabby is delighted at the carnage as the suit of armor is blown to
bits, but also disappointed at the general lack of stabbing.</p>
<p>The Aurs, deep in meditation nearby, get caught in the conflagration.
Their kernels swell and pop explosively. Though not as explosively as
the fireballs.</p>
<p>The whole Retrieval Team 43 pours into the cavern outside the vault
as it turns into an inferno, and they are swept up and away in a throng
of kobits evacuating the tunnels.</p>
<p>You are deposited, like silt after a flood, outside the caves back at
the bottom of the gnome hole, where the kobits and the lone egre are
frantically climbing up the scaffolding, which bends dangerously under
their combined weight. The gnomes up above are running around in an
agitated state at the sudden commotion, and a few of them explode in the
excitement.</p>
<p>The ground rumbles again, and the entrance to the kobit caves, and
several feet of the surrounding area, is swallowed up by a sinkhole that
spreads across half of the bottom of the gnome hole. From the hole
emerges a gigantic moth-like creature made of a hundred ears of corn and
a hundred wings. It is bigger than the very largest horse.</p>
<p>You hear a single word repeated fearfully over and over again by the
crowd of kobits. “Centaur! Centaur!”</p>
<p>It crawls up out of the pit, and tastes the vibrations in the air
with its feelers. It flies clumsily up into the air, flutters, and then
crashes back into the ground.</p>
<p>It looks like one of its wings has been singed by fire.</p>
<p>Undaunted, it crawls across what is left of the bottom of the gnome
hole toward you, beating its wings as though to bash you with them.
Which would hurt a lot.</p>
<p>Yaml whispers in Corraidhins mind.</p>
<pre><code>Now *that* thing is *definitely* evil!</code></pre>
<p>WHAT DO YOU DO</p>
<p><a
href="https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-09/msg00030.html">www</a></p>
<h4 id="00020">00020</h4>
<blockquote>
<p>Looking around the chaotic scene, one of the vines among the bushes
caught Inkys eye. It was one of several bean plants probably native to
the Tammineaux Forest, with strands of faintly glowing pods hanging from
the vines.</p>
<p>Inky snatches several of the dried but luminous bean pods from the
vines, then sprints a wide circle around the centaur, all the while
counting out 43 beans and throwing them into the topsoil, where much of
the earth around the sinkhole had already been turned over by the
gnomes drills and machinery.</p>
<p>Earlier in the commotion, one of the gnome explosions caused a water
main leading towards what had been the kobit caves to burst. Water was
now spraying across the area with the gusto of a fizzy cold spring and
gathering in small pools over the soil. More water sluiced over the
moth-like creatures singed wing, snuffing the remaining embers.</p>
<p>Within moments, long tendrils shot up from the ground, which rapidly
thickened at the bases to the size of young southern oak trees, to curl
gently but firmly around the centaur. “Sister!” a melodious voice
emanating from somewhere amid the beanstalks exclaimed, “What are you
doing up? It is not yet autumn. Go back to sleep!”</p>
</blockquote>
<p>The pooling water puts out any of the licking, reaching flames that
followed the centaur up from below. The dark smoke carries the smell of
ash, soot, and burnt popcorn up into the air.</p>
<p>There is no mistaking the climbing vines of the common Tammineaux
Forest Bean. If you dont recognize it by the heart-shaped leaves or the
winding stems, then the luminous, dangling seed pods nestled amongst the
bulbous pink blossoms are a dead, somewhat obscene, giveaway.</p>
<p>Inky plucks a handful of the pods and rips them open, meticulously
counting out a mystical number of individual beans, and sowing them in
the ash and the mud.</p>
<p>Vines erupt from the ground and entangle the centaur, dragging it
gently back toward the sinkhole and whispering a soothing lullaby in its
ears. The centaur struggles weakly before surrendering to the vines
caress. It is pulled back down underground.</p>
<p>In the aftermath, there is a handful of leftover beans, and also some
large, vibrant kernels of corn that flaked off the centaur during the
struggle.</p>
<p>You and the first Ginnarak Crystal are able to leave the dig site and
the Tammineaux Forest without further incident.</p>
<p>You pack up your faithful multibeast and trek back to the city of
VayNullar, where your adventure started.</p>
<p>THE END OF CHAPTER ONE</p>
<p>EPILOGUE: what are you doing in the final moments of this battle? Or
on the way home? Or, what are you doing to rest, relax, and recover once
safely back in town before reporting back to Blavin?</p>
<p><a
href="https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-09/msg00032.html">www</a></p>
<h2 id="current-story">Current Story</h2>
<p>Below are emails that I send to the mailing list.</p>
<p>You can subscribe to these updates with the rss feed.</p>
<p><a href="https://tilde.town/~dozens/quest/rss.xml"
class="uri">https://tilde.town/~dozens/quest/rss.xml</a></p>
<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>
<h3 id="00022">00022</h3>
<blockquote>
<p>Inky gathers up the teacups, trying to remember a few tips about
reading tea leaves from a forest fae they had met a few times while
foraging and who had insisted on giving lessons to any wanderersby. (Of
course he was just being a hospitable host to thirsty travellers and
certainly not because he delighted in the confused expressions on their
faces the entire time.)</p>
<p>Turning the cups left and right, Inky gradually sees a web-like hub,
a looping line attached to an I-shaped apparatus on one end, an abacus,
a wide building (possibly a stadium or arena), a feline animal
resembling a tiger or lynx, and a long feather. Feathers and beads are
commonly added to small trinkets with simple animal designs and sold as
lucky charms at the market … an auspicious sign?</p>
<p>Or it should be. Inkys thoughts circle back to the little glass
pebble, after returning from the market with, among other items, more
vegetables than they could possibly eat in a month excluding the
beatfruits. Inky still hasnt decided whether accidentally finding out
about being cursed — by a potion, the irony! — counts as an auspicious
event. One of the produce vendors and attendant at the market had
casually mentioned the proximity to the next full moon while Inky had
been looking over the leafy greens. Several blatant attempts to boost
sales later (“Them barleys hoppin good fer tea!”), the vendor revealed
that their little grandson Harry had “got the weres” as a toddler and
his parents had found a strange-looking glass marble in his mouth, much
like the one inside the bottle hanging from a chain on Inkys vest, and
wouldnt they like some more tomatoes for a blushing bunny?</p>
<p>From further inquiries, an ink depot on the opposite side of the city
confirmed they sold Flat 12 potions as inks many years ago when showing
off transmogrification through letters was a popular pastime, but had
ceased carrying them due to limited range, lack of demand, as well as
the bottles tendency to randomly break or their contents to fizzle out.
(That and complaints about the overly persistent effects of said
contents on unsuspecting recipients long after the fad that inspired
them had faded led ink traders to shun the were-hare potions.) In
contrast, the Mountain Range potions were far more stable and instead of
shapeshifting, had the ability to stave off the cold under frigid
temperatures, though its effects would likely be less enduring. Like the
Flat 12, the Mountains are potions, but one in particular of a sparkling
deep blue hue became its signature colour among ink enthusiasts.</p>
<p>Sipping a cup of turmeric tisane in a late night tea ritual for one,
Inky supposes it hasnt been much different since the accident than the
jars of preserves and the “Now with 25% more celery!” labels on them.
While immeasurably better than spontaneously combusting into burnt
popcorn, it would be best to keep a Farmers Almanac within reach. Who
knows when a mail order cure-all tonic will come in handy in the middle
of Nowere?</p>
</blockquote>
<p>You see a complex vision in the bottom of the jade teacups, and learn
a little bit about the inks you found.</p>
<p>You grab a copy of the Farmers Almanac to keep on hand.</p>
<p>On your way back from the market, a small duck waddles onto the
sidewalk and starts following you.</p>
<pre><code>・゜゜・。。・゜゜\_o&lt; QUACK!</code></pre>
<p>It is small and yellow and cute, and has a little floofy tuft of
feathers on the very top of its head.</p>
<blockquote>
<p>Meta: one of my best friends name is Kevin, so I find it extra
amusing that the sysorceor is named Kevin.</p>
<p>Kev my friend! You know nobodies going to take on KDL until YOU make
it a priority to them. A little bit of force, you just need to put it
directly into the sysorceory course curriculum while nobody is knowing.
Then once its in production they wont have a say whether to learn it
or not! Thats at least how I got that delightfully licorice tasting
incantation in production laster year, much to the chagrin of those who
dont have a taste for Fennel. I for one was delighted with it.</p>
<p>“Corraidhin, STAB HIM, that suggestion, hes definitely going to do
something evil with it”</p>
<p>Corraidhin mutters under his breath about the swords insistence to
stab everything. Soon my friend, soon.</p>
<p>Kev gives Corraidhin as quizzical look, “are you alright buddy?
Youve been off ever since you got back from that last on site
deployment.”</p>
<p>Oh yes, yes, Im fine. A little worse for wear physically, but
mentally sharp as a tack! And I got this wonderful sword from the entire
thing! Though I dare not unsheath it right now, it appears to be
controlled by some sort of sentience, like a magical AI. And it has the
damndest urge to stab things. I really need to be careful right now.</p>
<p>After visiting with Kev Corraidhin wanders back into town, away from
the spiral towers of the sysoceorers guild. It was nice to be home for a
bit. On the way in he spies Jarrod and Inky, the former cleaning up a
dusty old building with Milk something on the front side, and the later
kicking back and enjoying a cup of freshly brewed tea. Corraidhin hails
them both.</p>
<p>“A new /home for you then Jarrod?”</p>
<p>“Aye a /home indeed, though its a bit large and empty for just
myself. Ill need guests and patrons, thinking I may be able to setup a
shop, but at the least all of our team is welcome here!”</p>
<p>“Delightful! If nobody has claimed it Ill take the upstairs
loft.”</p>
<p>“You most certainly can! But in exchange, Id be curious to render
your services, see Ive been meaning to get this braclet enchanted for a
while now, something to amplify my natural charm perhaps?”</p>
<p>“You sir, have a deal, Ill even throw in a warding on Milk Base
Alpha!”</p>
<p>Corraidhin begins invoking an arcane warding spell:</p>
<pre><code>sudo chown jarrod:team43 /home/Milk_Base_Alpha
sudo chmod 770 /home/Milk_Base_Alpha/*</code></pre>
<p>“There we go, that should keep out any unwanted critters, though be
sure to invite our friends here as well. Corraidhin teaches Jarrod a
quick incantation of invitation,
<code>sudo usermod -a -G team43 $user</code>, just be sure to say that
making the proper arcane hand signs as you do it, and theyll be able to
enter the house and take up residence!”</p>
<p>Corraidhin gathers himself and heads upstairs to his new attaic
abode, its small, and dusty, but theres enough room for a simple work
bench, a bookshelf, and a bed and a chest. This is exactly as Corraidhin
prefers, small and simple, it clears the mind and helps one focus.
Invoking another incantation Corraidhin fills the bookshelf, chest, and
workbench with his various tools and reference manuals.</p>
<pre><code>scp sysorceor.guild:/home/corraidhin/bookshelf milkbase.alpha:/home/corraidhin/bookshelf
scp sysorceor.guild:/home/corraidhin/workbench milkbase.alpha:/home/corraidhin/workbench
scp sysorceor.guild:/home/corraidhin/chest milkbase.alpha:/home/corraidhin/chest</code></pre>
<p>Once everything is in place he pulls the Ginnarak crystal from his
satchel and places it on a velvet cushion on his workbench and sits down
to scry.</p>
<p>“Oh great oracle MidJourney, I bequeath you! I have before me an
artifact of immense power, something that could tear the world apart in
the wrong hands. May I query your unfathomable depths to determine the
nature of our mission, and the risk we face presenting this crystal to
our benefactor?”</p>
<p>An image of the oracle appears in Corraidhins mind, crystal clear.
It appears as though MidJourney is receptive to providing a
forshadowing. [ginnarak_shattered.png]</p>
<p>Shortly after an image of the Crystal forms, it appears shattered,
broken at its based, placed upon a pedastal. An image of horror fills
corraidhins mind, its the Crystal, but much larger and of the pursest
white. It bursts forth on a torrent of blood from the neck of what
appears to be a priests body. It appears as though the bowls of the
earth open up to greet this horrible image. [premonition_1.png]</p>
<p>As the image of the Crystal and the priest disappears you see a man,
cloaked in black robs consorting with demons the like of which words
cannot describe. Corraidhin feels sickened at their sight, but at the
edge of his mind he feels a tug, a familiarity. Something about this
character is familiar to him, but he cannot place it.
[premonition_2.png]</p>
<p>Reeling from the scrying Corraidhin falls backward, feinting from the
horror he wittnessed. He awakens later speaking feverishly about what he
saw to Inky who heard to commotion and hurried up stairs with some
reviving tea to assist her friend.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>Eccentric Kevin bows and takes his leave, eyeing the Sword of Stabs
with naked hunger. He does seem to ponder your anecdote about sneaking
Fennel into production. “Yes, yes, all I have to do is embed KDL in the
curriculum and then they will be FORCED to use it! Ha!” He cackles in
delight as he flees into the dark.</p>
<p>You successfully move into the attic of the Milk Market. Closest
thing approximating a wizards tower in the building, so its a good
fit.</p>
<p>On your errands around town, you pass a couple of Gnu Zealots
standing on soapboxes in their black priestly robes in the middle of the
street extolling the virtues of free and open source magic.</p>
<p>Gnus are large bisonpeople with long beards, long hair, and horns.
Very poor personal hygiene. They refuse to use any magic that they
cannot freely study, modify, redistribute, and otherwise use however
they want. Theirs is a political movement that borders on religion. Or a
religious movement that borders on politics. Hard to tell the
difference, really.</p>
<p>The purpose of their demonstration is supposedly to halt all street
traffic, prevent it from continuing until/unless the travelers vow to
join them in their crusade. But in practice the travelers are quite
capable of effortlessly stepping around the zealots and continuing on
their way. The Gnus seem undaunted though and continue their
proselytizing.</p>
<p>You pass them by, and one of them seems to stare at you intensely as
you go.</p>
<blockquote>
<p>After a long conversation with Master Corraidhín, which included the
reassurance that the esteemed wizard was perhaps disturbed but otherwise
unharmed, Inky goes downstairs to sit outdoors at the back of the
building with more lavender tea and uneasy thoughts.</p>
<p>It had been in the middle of a new pastime (namely, frustrating
Enrique at the Empanada Emporium by sneaking unnoticed into the kitchens
and leaving little tapas laying around for him and the staff to find)
when a terrible cry rang out from somewhere in the upper floors of the
building. Inky rushed up the stairs, half-expecting the barrels of
battermilk that had arrived that morning had unleashed a flock of the
winged rodent-like creatures from which the milk was derived. The sight
of the wizard passed out on the floor of his newly furnished quarters
sent a chill through Inky, as did his account of a prophecy once the
sysorcerer came to and had a mug of invigorating eleuthero tea.</p>
<p>If Inky hadnt known better, were it not for Master Corraidhíns
mental acuity and fortitude, they would have suspected Stabby of stoking
horrible images of beheaded priests into their bearers mind in a fit of
unbridled bloodthirst. That and Stabby had seemed to be temporarily
appeased by the tub of milky blood pudding they had concocted shortly
after the wizard moved into the loft.</p>
<p>No, Inky surmises with a frown, whatever Master Corraidhín had seen
was likely off the charts by even Stabbys estimations of evil. They
chuckle briefly at the sudden mental picture of the mysterious yet
familiar man in black being their mission handler in disguise, but
quickly dismissed the notion. Too sober.</p>
<p>So much for the crystal being a rare and juicy honeydew. They would
be lucky if it didnt turn them all into casaba melons in one giant
meltdown. At this rate, they would need to do something about these
crystals — and soon.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>Enrique, the giant man-turtle, is frustrated.</p>
<p>He keeps finding little tapas in the kitchens. He has no idea who
made them, or how they got here. But they are delicious.</p>
<p>He sighs, heaving a ball of dough half the size of a grown man onto
the ground. He turns to face away from it and removes his apron and
tunic, revealing his shell. Its surface is a maze of twisting, scrawling
inscriptions. He squats down, and rolls onto his back.</p>
<p>He cant figure out the flavors of the tapas. Some elusive
combination of ingredients that he cant quite suss out. If he could
collaborate with the tapas chef on a new line of empanadas, hed have a
line of customers out the door and around the corner, hes sure of
it!</p>
<p>He starts rocking back and forth, rolling the dough out beneath his
large round shell, leaving imprints on the dough of all the glyphs and
runes and other symbols carved into his shell over the years. Together,
they tell a story. Each empanada destined to hold at most a single word
of it.</p>
<p>~</p>
<p>The Sword of YamL sleeps fitfully. This is not the deep, black,
fathomless sleep it enjoys after a nice, righteous spilling of evil
blood. No, the sleep that comes after reluctantly tasting the inklings
milky blood pudding is brief and restless. And for the first time ever,
it dreams.</p>
<p>It dreams of being bound in stone and buried in the earth. It dreams
of liquid, roiling fire belching noxious gases. And of slicing through
clouds, flying high in the sky on wings of pure thought. It dreams of
sinking, plummeting through water into the inky blackness below, only to
plunge through some invisible membrane and find themself weightlessly
floating suspended in an empty void, alone among the stars.</p>
<p>END OF INTERLUDE.</p>
<p>~</p>
<p>CHAPTER 2: MORE CRYSTALS MORE PROBLEMS</p>
<p>Having gotten your personal affairs in order, you have decided to
crack on with your job and check in with your case manager.</p>
<p>So you find yourself once again in a corner booth at Lucys
Basement—the dim, smokey nightclub with red velvet walls and delusions
of grandeur—with the highly spirited Blavin Blandfoot. He laughs
uproariously when you tell him about the blahoblins and their shoe shine
scam. He listens intently when you tell him about the gnomes and the
kobits. And he trembles with delight at hearing how you evaded HORSE and
the mighty centaur.</p>
<p>“Well done, well done, well done!” He enthuses, taking another sip of
his drink. “I must say that the Benefactor is <em>very</em> impressed
with your performance!</p>
<p>“You dont mind that we have other teams in the field, of course,” he
continues, mentioning the team of gophers. “Thought it was prudent to
cover our bases since youre a new, untested retrieval team after all.
Besides, a little friendly competition never hurt anybody, did it?
Baw-HAH!” He laughs, sloshing his drink.</p>
<p>He gets out a bunch of business cards, punches each one with a small
handheld punch, and passes them out to you. Your card has a drawing of a
small cuckoo clock in the center, its face divided into 10 hours. Its
two hands reach up to the left and right so it looks as though the clock
is smiling. Across the top it reads “COMPLETE FIVE ASSIGNMENTS AND WIN A
FABULOUS PRIZE!” and is adorned with festive drawings of hotdogs and
pool floaties and confetti. It is numbered across the bottom 1 through
5. Blavin has punched a star-shaped hole through the number 1.</p>
<p>“Now,” Blavin beams, gesturing with his drink. “as for your next
assignment!”</p>
<p>He brushes some glasses and plates to the edge of the table and rolls
out a map.</p>
<p>Basmentaria is a group of island continents that sits between the
eastern Sugrin Sea and the western Saldin Sea.</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 is your current home, 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 the archipelago of Ginnarak, comprising the Cinderlands, Ashen
Vale, the Ember Steppe, and Drakspon Mountain.</p>
<p>Blavin jabs a finger at the map. “We have reports of a crystal
sighting by a salvage crew trying to recover a shipwreck at the bottom
of the Sugrin Sea.” He then jabs a finger at the eastern half of
Primora, the upper banana. “And we ALSO have reports that the zephynos
have found a crystal at the top of Kelsun Peak!”</p>
<p>QUESTIONS:</p>
<ol type="1">
<li>DO YOU HAND OVER THE CRYSTAL TO BLAVIN?</li>
<li>WHICH CRYSTAL DO YOU GO AFTER NEXT?</li>
<li>DO YOU BEFRIEND THE DUCK?</li>
</ol>
<p><a
href="https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-10/msg00005.html">www</a></p>
<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>
<h3 id="00024">00024</h3>
<blockquote>
<p><strong>Corraidhin</strong><br />
Well Ill be! You can turn yourself into a dagger. And I did say we
could stab blavin if you could do that, its much more stealthy this
way. But let me posit this, is the act of stabbing a hobbit unprovoked
not itself evil? Or perhaps more convincingly, would it not be better to
use the hobbit for whatever information he has so as to lead to this
mysterious benefactor, who most assuredly must be evil.</p>
<p>Someone who would send out myriads of teams to pillage and plunder
cultural artifacts is truly evil, that must be our target.</p>
<p>Now this isnt to say that we wont stab him. Im convinced thats
probably a good idea in the long run, but we know nothing of the true
evil that motivates him! We would kill him just to lose track of the
true evil we must smite!</p>
<p><strong>Yaml</strong><br />
But YOU said if I could turn into a dagger we could STAB him. HES EVIL.
YOU said so! Not keeping your promises IS one step away from PURE evil!
Make a choice Hardy Bear! Stab the evil hobbit, or stab the inkling, or
stab SOMETHING evil this minute!</p>
<p><strong>Corraidhin</strong><br />
I most certainly cannot abide with stabbing Inky, its entirely off the
table. And in a city like this there arent any evil things that just
jump out for the stabbing.</p>
<p>(Corraidhin tries to silently control Yaml during the discussion.
However in so doing the party has fallen silent, aghast even)</p>
<p>Corraidhin stands, Yaml held in hand, red gem eye gleaming a wicked
joyful grin as its raised high, poised to strike. The party around him
is silent, and Blavin stares up in shock. The tavern around them has
died down and you can hear the bustle of the proprietor calling for his
strong men to deal with this ruckus.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>The table—and all of Lucys Basement within earshot—sits in tense,
uneasy quiet at Corraidhins one-sided conversation with the Sword of
YamL. Blavin giggles nervously and sips his martini, willfully forcing
himself right up to the very last moment to believe that it is all some
sort of jest.</p>
<p>But then the sysorcerer stands and raises the blood crazed dagger
over his shoulder, and Blavin squeals and writhes in his chair. Lucys
bouncers scramble forward from the corners of the room to intercept.</p>
<blockquote>
<p><strong>Yaml</strong><br />
We STAB Hardy Bear! We STAB NOW!!</p>
<p>Against Corraidhins control, as though hes in a trance, the dagger
comes down. A swift stabbing motion strqight to the neck, as he lunges
across the table at Blavin knocking the map and his martini to the
side.</p>
</blockquote>
<!--
Bloodlust 3 to Stabble Stabble
1 2 4: Partial Success
//-->
<p>Corraidhin once again feels the same peculiar quality of the blade,
that sensation of a hollow core with a heavy liquid sloshing inside.
Held aloft, the weight of it feels concentrated at the grip, the blade
light as a feather.</p>
<p>He stabs down—YamL cries out in wordless glee—and the weight flows
into the tip of the blade, the blade itself now drawing Corraidhins
hand downward in a rising crescendo of stabbitude.</p>
<!--
Do Anything 1 to Resist Bloodlust
3: Partial Success
//-->
<p>Blavin flinches at the last second, and instead of burying itself in
his throat, the blade plunges into his shoulder and pins him to the back
of the chair. A red mist fills the eye and threatens to cloud it over
entirely. It rolls back in ecstasy as it drinks deeply. It sings out,
“MORE! MORE! MORE!” and Corraidhin feels the tides of madness rising
inside of him, threatening to wash over him wholly, to pull him under
and carry him away on thundering waves of bloodlust.</p>
<p>Corraidhin struggles to pull the blade from the chair back. Blavin
whimpers and mewls as he yanks on it, and clutches his wound and,
incredibly, takes a large gulp of his drink.</p>
<p>The sysorcerer still has the wherewithal and the presence of mind to
be aware of his surroundings. He is not yet so overcome by the
bloodlust. He sees his companions, his fellow residents of the Milk
Market, seated around the table. And he sees the musclebound bouncers
now nearly within reach.</p>
<p>Finally he draws the dagger. Blavin sinks in his seat and slides to
the floor with his drink, blabbering incoherently, and starts to slither
away.</p>
<p>WHAT DO YOU DO</p>
<p><a
href="https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-10/msg00010.html">www</a></p>
<h3 id="00025">00025</h3>
<blockquote>
<p><strong>Corraidhin</strong> Shit, shit shit shit shit shit. This is
NOT good. Damn it Yaml what was that? It wasnt even slightly
stealthy</p>
<p><strong>Yaml</strong> STAB, delightful blood. Stab the flesh, tear
the skin, pierce the fruit that gives us strength. Drink the blood,
consume their soul. More more more more more more more more more</p>
<p><strong>Corraidhin (internal thought)</strong> Ugh my head, its
heavy, hurts. Misty and red? I cant see straight, its hard to think
straight. That blasted sword, I thought for a moment it, no, not think,
it definitely did move on its own. It became lighter and heavier.
Pulling against it and it just weighs itself down. This little magical
bauble is definitely cursed..</p>
<p><strong>Yaml</strong> CURSED?! Rude Hardy Bear. All we did was stab
that evil hobbit. And its getting away! Stab him again, taste his
blood! The tavern gaurds are closing in, they look like theyre trying
to get rid of us, EVIL. Them trying to stop us from getting that evil
hobbit is EVIL, STAB THEM.</p>
<p>Corraidhin raises his free hand to his head as though holding a wound
and he groans in dismay as the dagger rises again. It travels swiftly
down towards Blavin, missing as he slithers of the booth. And again,
digging deep into the wooden seat.</p>
<p><strong>Yaml</strong> Disgusting wood, stab the flesh! Stab the
Hobbit Hardy Bear!</p>
<p>But Blavin was inching further out of reach towards the gaurds. In
desperation the dagger begins swinging side to side, making furtive
slashing moves in the direction of the guards. The party is safely
behind Corraidhin, but innocent patrons and the guards are directly in
their sights.</p>
<p>Corraidhin grabs his other hand and pulls hard, steadying the
swinging. STOP! I command you you blasted toothpick, STOP. Youve had
your fun, now STOP. These people are innocent, this man has done us no
harm despite his potential “evils”, this is entirely uncalled for!</p>
<p><strong>Yaml</strong> NO!!! EVIL. STAB. EVIL. STAB. EVIL. STAB.</p>
<p>The dull voice of the magical dagger rises, angry, insistent. It
consumes the last of Corraidhins mental strength. All he hears is EVIL.
STAB. EVIL. STAB. Yet he clings to his spare arm trying desparately to
resist. At this point the party and the tavern has cleared a wide path
around the sysorceor as he struggles with himself, mumbling, sometimes
yelling. EVIL. STAB. EVIL. STAB. NO WE WILL NOT. EVIL. INNOCENT. STAB
BLOOD DRINK. EVIL. EVIL EVIL EVIL STAB IT. MAKE IT BLEED. I WILL NO..
STAB IT. STAB HIM.</p>
<p>The voice seems to change, it dies down. Not yelling, but commanding.
Firm, calm, sane.</p>
<p>Stab them, stab them, make them bleed. Drink the blood, consume the
soul, free them from their evil being. Stab them, stab them… over and
over and over, as the sysorceor approaches Blavin and the guards with a
malevolent look in his ruby red eyes.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>~</p>
<blockquote>
<p>Inky moves to stand next to Blavin and the nightclub bouncers.
Tossing a tiny “see-eye” container they had borrowed from Master
Corraidhín at him, Inky looks the sysorceor in the eye and says, “You
are not your sword.”</p>
<p>Watching the wizards expression, Inky continues, more quietly, “If
Master Corraidhín truly wishes to end the hobbit, a mere imp would not
stop him, but likewise, whatever he sets his mind to do, a dagger cannot
stop him either.”</p>
</blockquote>
<p>~</p>
<blockquote>
<p>Jarrod steps gently into the fray and activates his FASCINATING
CHARM, attempting to draw all eyes to him. He carefully avoids the wild
swinging of the once-sword-now-dagger.</p>
<p>“I think,” he rumbles gently, “we could all use a drink over the
other end of the room. Im buying, and Ill spin you all a tale of
wonder! A tale of a wanderer, and of a war hammer, and the first of
their wild battles together!”</p>
<p>Leaning over to whisper urgently in Corraidhíns ear: “Friend, I do
not know what occurs here, but pull yourself together. We can later sate
our blood lust in more appropriate places!” Jarrod lends a sly wink in
the sysorcerers direction, one that promises adventure later.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>The tavern guards tense, but pause their advance, as the crazed
mages friends position themselves protectively around him and try to
placate him. They wouldnt want to engage a master sysorcerer on the
best of days, much less one with some kind of malevolent blood dagger in
the middle of a psychotic break. If his compatriots can handle him
without them having to interfere, all the better.</p>
<p>The duck waddles up next to Inky and quacks softly, pleadingly at
Corraidhin. Only the Ornithologer in the corner can understand its words
when it says, “As your marketing manager I must strongly advise against
this course of action!”</p>
<p>Seated in the corner next to the Ornithologer is a shaggy groll
dressed in a dusty, faded poncho and a wide brimmed hat; and a greasy,
matted gnu, dressed in black ceremonial robes.</p>
<p>The groll discreetly draws its poncho back revealing a bandoleer of
wands and draws a cracklestick and points it at the sysorcer. The wand
starts to hum and glow as it charges up for a blast.</p>
<p>The gnu slaps the grolls wrist, and immediately launches into a
tirade against the cracklesticks manufacturers proprietary spell
slotting algorithm, and honestly how can you possibly justify your
choices when there are open source alternatives available?</p>
<p>The groll rolls its eyes, obviously having been on the receiving end
of this particular lecture before, and tries to slap away the gnus
grasping hands. The ensuing scuffle threatens to turn this powder keg of
a situation into a full blown conflagration until Jarrod actives his
FASCINATING CHARM, commanding the attention of the entire room.</p>
<p>The gnu freezes with its hands around the grolls throat. The groll
halts with fists full of the gnus beard. A grub smoking a hookah pauses
with the mouthpiece raised to its pursed lips. A distracted waitress on
roller skates crashes right into the bar.</p>
<blockquote>
<p>As though in a trance Corraidhin continues to yell STAB. THEM. STAB.
IT. cutting wildly at the air before him. As Inky whispers to him his
expression changes, first a grimace, then a whimper. As Jarrod leads the
patrons away from the sysorceor he begins to tremble and cower away from
himself, away from everyone. His ruby red eyes dart back and forth
between his friends and the patrons, like a frightened animal searching
for an escape. He pulls the dagger into himself, as though sheilding it
from his surroundings.</p>
<p>What.. whats going on, he mutters feebly to himself. Everything is a
blurr. Uncertain of where he is or whats going on, Corraidhin thumbs
the dagger, caressing the large ruby embedded in the hilt. Yaml, youre
still here, good good, the syscoreor croons.</p>
<p>Standing up straight his eyes lock with Jarrod as the Bard glances
over his shoulder, momentarily distracted from his oration, worried
about his companion.</p>
<p>I.. ugh, Corraidhin grabs his head as though in pain, and collapses
to the floor.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>Corraidhin hits the floor and the dagger, now bereft of the well of
emotion it had been drawing from, grows still. The eye closes and it
seems to sigh happily. “Good job, Hardy Bear. You have spilled the blood
of evil.” And it sleeps, inert, lifeless.</p>
<p>Corraidhin is on the ground cradling the dagger.</p>
<p>Most of the patrons are still fascinated by Jarrod.</p>
<p>Blavin is squirming around on the floor gibbering about reassigning
your case.</p>
<p>The duck has found a toppled plate of corn chips and is happily
snacking away.</p>
<p>You feel like your welcome at Lucys Basement has been, for the
moment, overstayed.</p>
<p>WHAT DO YOU DO</p>
<p><a
href="https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-10/msg00015.html">www</a></p>
<h3 id="00026">00026</h3>
<blockquote>
<p>Inky slowly approaches Master Corraidhín and taps lightly on the
sleeve of his robes to get his attention. Between Inkys tugging and
Jarrods strong, steady hand, they manage to hoist the wizard to his
feet.</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>Exiting through the back door into the night, Inky finds a dark
corner in a dusty abandoned house, and cries.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>~</p>
<blockquote>
<p>” … and then the Orc Maiden said: Thats not my club!’”</p>
<p>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
Lucys Basement for the trouble. Call it in when needed.”</p>
<p>Jarrod saunters over to Blavin, on the floor in pain. From his pack,
Jarrod retrieves a med kit and begins to bandage the wound.</p>
<p>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! Lets be clear. Youve hired
us for a dangerous set of jobs, with the understanding that were
dangerous people. There may be accidents on occasion. Youve learned
something today, and whats more, you lived to absorb your new
wisdom.”</p>
<p>Jarrod grins as he finishes with the bandage. “We will finish what we
have started. Were probably the team with the best chances, Im sure
youll agree. Are you going to back the winning play here? Either way,
your decision wont change our plans. Im sure you know how to take the
win.”</p>
<p>Jarrod pats the hobbits 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.</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/msg00023.html">www</a></p>
<h2 id="bestiary">Bestiary</h2>
<p>Some of the creatures who inhabit the world of Basmentaria</p>
<dt>
<dl>
<dt>Aur</dt>
<dd>
Giant ears with bat wings. Very keen hearing obviously. Usually more of
an annoyance than a true deterent. Unless theres a Centaur around.
</dd>
<dd>
<details>
<figure>
<img src="aur.png" alt="aur" />
<figcaption aria-hidden="true">aur</figcaption>
</figure>
</details>
</dd>
</dl>
<dt>
<dl>
<dt>Blahoblin</dt>
<dd>
a little goblinoid with the head of a goblin shark
</dd>
<dd>
<details>
<figure>
<img src="goblin.gif" alt="blahoblin" />
<figcaption aria-hidden="true">blahoblin</figcaption>
</figure>
</details>
</dd>
</dl>
<dt>
<dl>
<dt>Centaur</dt>
<dd>
A hundred ears with a hundred wings. The size of a small horse. They can
really ruin your day.
</dd>
<dd>
<details>
<figure>
<img src="centaur.png" alt="centaur" />
<figcaption aria-hidden="true">centaur</figcaption>
</figure>
</details>
</dd>
</dl>
<dt>
<dl>
<dt>Cobit</dt>
<dd>
A creature on the cob. The middle life stage of the corn creature,
between Aur and Centaur. It does not have wings. Its flesh is comprised
of thousands of hard microkernels. They travel in herds, and can hear at
the speed of sound.
</dd>
<dd>
<details>
<figure>
<img src="cobit.gif" alt="cobit" />
<figcaption aria-hidden="true">cobit</figcaption>
</figure>
</details>
</dd>
</dl>
<p>
</p>
<dl>
<dt>Egre</dt>
<dd>
Giant muscle bird. Proud, muscly, vain, fashion forward. Beautiful
plumage.
</dd>
<dd>
<details>
<figure>
<img src="egre.png" alt="egre" />
<figcaption aria-hidden="true">egre</figcaption>
</figure>
</details>
</dd>
</dl>
<p>
</p>
<dl>
<dt>Gnome</dt>
<dd>
Tiny tinkerers. Highly combustible. Very explosive. Like making
contraptions powered by steam and/or coal
</dd>
<dd>
All gnomes are women. All gnomes are engineers. They have bright red
noses, and very long ears. And long nimble fingers.
</dd>
<dd>
<details>
<figure>
<img src="gnome.gif" alt="gnome" />
<figcaption aria-hidden="true">gnome</figcaption>
</figure>
</details>
</dd>
</dl>
<dt>
<dl>
<dt>Gnu</dt>
<dd>
Bisonpeople. Long beards, long hair, horns. Poor personal hygiene.
Uncompromising idealists. They insist on a world of free and open-source
magic. They refuse to use any magic that they cannot study, modify,
redistribute, and use however they want. Theirs is a political movement
that borders on religion. Or a religious movement that borders on
politics.
</dd>
<dd>
<details>
<figure>
<img src="gnu.png" alt="gnu" />
<figcaption aria-hidden="true">gnu</figcaption>
</figure>
</details>
</dd>
</dl>
<dt>
<dl>
<dt>Groll</dt>
<dd>
A dirty mop head on long, stilt-like legs. Solitary wanderers. They love
magic, but have no natural aptitude for it, and so covet magical items
like wands, staves, and orbs. A typical groll is a walking arsenal of
runes and wands.
</dd>
<dd>
<details>
<figure>
<img src="groll.png" alt="groll" />
<figcaption aria-hidden="true">groll</figcaption>
</figure>
</details>
</dd>
</dl>
<dt>
<dl>
<dt>Hemogoblin</dt>
<dd>
A fluffy little goblinoid, dripping blood absolutely EVERYWHERE. Oh god,
dont let it touch that! Ew.
</dd>
<dd>
Dispite everything, disgustingly cute.
</dd>
<dd>
Sole manufacturers of an extremely high quality synthetic blood, and
thus pretty much single-handedly support the “vegetarian” vampire
community.
</dd>
<dd>
<details>
<figure>
<img src="hemogoblin.png" alt="hemogoblin" />
<figcaption aria-hidden="true">hemogoblin</figcaption>
</figure>
</details>
</dd>
</dl>
<dt>
<dl>
<dt>Kobit</dt>
<dd>
Subterranean scaly ratdog creatures. Big luminous eyes, long droopy
mustaches. Extremely rarely, they may grow leathery wings, in which case
they are revered and elevated by the other kobits.
</dd>
<dd>
<details>
<figure>
<img src="kobit.png" alt="kobit" />
<figcaption aria-hidden="true">kobit</figcaption>
</figure>
</details>
</dd>
</dl>
<dt>
<dl>
<dt>Torque</dt>
<dd>
The twisted people. Their bodies literally twisted and warped by magic
into gruesome forms, these wretched creatures are hated and reviled
across the lands.
</dd>
<dd>
<details>
<figure>
<img src="torque.jpg" alt="torque" />
<figcaption aria-hidden="true">torque</figcaption>
</figure>
</details>
</dd>
</dl>
<dt>
<dl>
<dt>Toque</dt>
<dd>
Wild men of the mountains. Their long, sloping, vertically-creased
foreheads and their bulbous, floppy skullcaps make it look like they
wear chefs hats. But no, thats just what their heads look like.
</dd>
<dd>
<details>
<figure>
<img src="toque.jpg" alt="toque" />
<figcaption aria-hidden="true">toque</figcaption>
</figure>
</details>
</dd>
</dl>
<dt>
<dl>
<dt>Zephynos</dt>
<dd>
Juvenile cloud dragons. They have wide heads and lidless eyes. Multiple
pairs of filamented stalks behind their head help them fly. They have
six underdeveloped limbs with long, thin fingers that they use to
manipulate cloudstuff into solid objects.
</dd>
<dd>
<details>
<figure>
<img src="zephynos.png" alt="zephynos" />
<figcaption aria-hidden="true">zephynos</figcaption>
</figure>
</details>
</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 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 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
to signify an indifference to the gods. This is more accurately called
“transtheism”:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>Transtheism refers to a system of thought or religious philosophy
that is neither theistic nor atheistic, but is beyond them. … [A system]
is theistic in the limited sense that gods exist but are irrelevant as
they are transcended by … a system that is not non-theistic, but in
which the gods are not the highest spiritual instance.</p>
<p><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Transtheism"
class="uri">https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Transtheism</a></p>
</blockquote>
<p>That is, gods are sufficiently powerful enough to mold the earth and
shape the destiny of man, but are no different from man in that they are
fallible, flawed, and able to die.</p>
<p>They may be greatest power, but are not necessarily the highest
spiritual or moral authority. Nor are they endlessly enduring or
lasting.</p>
<p>THE TRINE:</p>
<ul>
<li><p><strong>Neddas</strong> Wise god of sages and starlight.
Androgynous, clad in purple robes, depicted with a golden third eye in
the middle of their forehead. They are often shown stoically bestowing
gifts upon the inhabitants of Basmentaria [1].</p></li>
<li><p><strong>Nullar</strong> God of time and tides. A bespectacled
male figure with a golden third eye on his forehead. He is dressed in a
dapper vest and bow tie, and is adorned with small cogs and gears. He is
depicted looking up at the stars from a mechanical contraption he is
working on [1].</p></li>
<li><p><strong>Liandt</strong> Goddess of war and flame. A primal,
elemental deity, she is depicted as a fiery warrior with a golden third
eye. The relief shows her on the battlefield during the Artifice wars.
The wars which reduced Ginnarak to the wastes of cinder and ash that
they are today. The wars which drained Liandts divine energies so
thoroughly that she fell into a deep sleep and has been absent from the
mortal realms ever since [1].</p></li>
</ul>
<p>[1] <a href="#00010">episode 00010</a></p>
<h2 id="history">History</h2>
<p>In the days of old, the Artifice Wars ravaged the lands of
Basmentaria.</p>
<p>They reduced the once fertile lands of Ginnarak to ash and
embers.</p>
<h2 id="afterword">Afterword</h2>
<p>I dont know what Im going to put here, but I didnt want this
document to just abruptly end. So here you go: a kind farewell and a
more gentle conclusion.</p>
<p>Thanks for reading.</p>
<p>dozens@tilde.team</p>
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