1273 lines
74 KiB
XML
1273 lines
74 KiB
XML
<?xml version="1.0" ?>
|
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<rss version="2.0" xmlns:atom="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom">
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<channel>
|
||
<atom:link href="https://tilde.town/~dozens/quest/rss.xml" rel="self" type="application/rss+xml" />
|
||
<title>BASEMENT QWEST</title>
|
||
<link>https://tilde.town/~dozens/quest/rss.xml</link>
|
||
<description>Friends having ADVENTURES! Huzzah!</description>
|
||
<item>
|
||
<title>28</title>
|
||
<author>dozens@tilde.team (dozens)</author>
|
||
<guid isPermaLink="false">28 - Sat, 29 Oct 2022 08:36:51
|
||
-0600</guid>
|
||
<pubDate>Sat, 29 Oct 2022 08:36:51 -0600</pubDate>
|
||
<description>
|
||
<![CDATA[
|
||
<h3 id="00028">00028</h3>
|
||
<blockquote>
|
||
<p><sub><em>a new player enters the chat</em></sub></p>
|
||
<p>Gabs had a good life. Her little devil children were all
|
||
grown adults now, and she no longer wanted to toil away
|
||
running a business. When she initially shuttered her little
|
||
tavern, she thought she might just retire. She made it two
|
||
whole years of working in a garden, occasionally seeing
|
||
grandkids, and reading romance novels. She eventually decided
|
||
she needed a vacation from her retirement and traveled to a
|
||
nearby port town. She was sure to find something fun to do
|
||
there.</p>
|
||
<p>Gabs eventually sees Inquire Within, and the smell of
|
||
debauchery wafting from within made her miss her days
|
||
gossiping at her tavern. She enters and orders a terrible
|
||
drink and listens and watches.</p>
|
||
<p>Hearing the tales being spun by Mister Three-Fingered, she
|
||
decides, “I’ve never been on a ship, that’s 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 bell’s tentacles — being
|
||
rewarded with a mild zap and marginally better fit for the
|
||
effort — Inky turns to the party. “When you’re ready.”</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 it’s easy to miss because of the eyepatch. “Don’t
|
||
put it on until right before you jump. It won’t be able to
|
||
breathe for you until you’re in the water. And this!” he
|
||
continues, fitting a heavy, padded vest around your shoulders,
|
||
“will carry you down.” It is a vest of many pockets, each one
|
||
holding a small dense sandbag the size of your hand. “When
|
||
you’re ready to come back up, just start dropping ballast,
|
||
right?”</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! You’re just some kind of
|
||
segmented nematode or something.”</p>
|
||
<p>The tardigrade quivers with indignation. “I’ll have you
|
||
know I’m a panarthropod, thank you very much. And this is the
|
||
ideal physical body! You may not like it, but this is what
|
||
peak performance looks like. I’ve lived under the polar ice
|
||
cap, and in a sulfurous mountaintop hot spring. I’ve traveled
|
||
through the vacuum of space to the moon! Have you ever been to
|
||
the moon?”</p>
|
||
<p>“Why don’t you go be the Bear of the Moon then if you like
|
||
it so much!”</p>
|
||
<p>“You’re just as much fish as you are bear, are you sure
|
||
you’re not the Fish of the Sea?”</p>
|
||
<p>“Are you sure you’re not the Blob of the Sea, you too many
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||
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>“You’re just mean, you know that?”</p>
|
||
<p>You are still quite some way from the sea bed, and there is
|
||
no sight of the SS RSS.</p>
|
||
<p>WHAT DO YOU DO</p>
|
||
<p><a
|
||
href="https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-10/msg00023.html">www</a></p>
|
||
]]>
|
||
</description>
|
||
</item>
|
||
<item>
|
||
<title>26</title>
|
||
<author>dozens@tilde.team (dozens)</author>
|
||
<guid isPermaLink="false">26 - Tue, 25 Oct 2022 08:27:22
|
||
-0600</guid>
|
||
<pubDate>Tue, 25 Oct 2022 08:27:22 -0600</pubDate>
|
||
<description>
|
||
<![CDATA[
|
||
<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
|
||
Inky’s tugging and Jarrod’s 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: ‘That’s 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 Lucy’s 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!
|
||
Let’s be clear. You’ve hired us for a dangerous set of jobs,
|
||
with the understanding that we’re dangerous people. There may
|
||
be ‘accidents’ on occasion. You’ve learned something today,
|
||
and what’s more, you lived to absorb your new wisdom.”</p>
|
||
<p>Jarrod grins as he finishes with the bandage. “We will
|
||
finish what we have started. We’re probably the team with the
|
||
best chances, I’m sure you’ll agree. Are you going to back the
|
||
winning play here? Either way, your decision won’t change our
|
||
plans. I’m sure you know how to take the win.”</p>
|
||
<p>Jarrod pats the hobbit’s good shoulder in a friendly, but
|
||
dismissive, way, then turns and saunters out the door, trading
|
||
small quips with his new (and now very drunk) tavern
|
||
friends.</p>
|
||
</blockquote>
|
||
<p>You are at a small port town on the northern tip of
|
||
Agendell, just past the Rana’For Valley. The sun is bright and
|
||
the wind blowing in from the Sugrin Sea to the east is cool
|
||
and salty. The floating island-city of Vay’Neddas, bridging
|
||
Agendell and Primora, can be seen very faintly in the distance
|
||
hanging in the northern sky.</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 Yam’L.</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>
|
||
]]>
|
||
</description>
|
||
</item>
|
||
<item>
|
||
<title>24</title>
|
||
<author>dozens@tilde.team (dozens)</author>
|
||
<guid isPermaLink="false">24 - Sat, 22 Oct 2022 13:43:40
|
||
-0600</guid>
|
||
<pubDate>Sat, 22 Oct 2022 13:43:40 -0600</pubDate>
|
||
<description>
|
||
<![CDATA[
|
||
<h3 id="00024">00024</h3>
|
||
<blockquote>
|
||
<p><strong>Corraidhin</strong><br />
|
||
Well I’ll be! You can turn yourself into a dagger. And I did
|
||
say we could stab blavin if you could do that, it’s much more
|
||
stealthy this way. But let me posit this, is the act of
|
||
stabbing a hobbit unprovoked not itself evil? Or perhaps more
|
||
convincingly, would it not be better to use the hobbit for
|
||
whatever information he has so as to lead to this mysterious
|
||
benefactor, who most assuredly must be evil.</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 isn’t to say that we won’t stab him. I’m convinced
|
||
that’s probably a good idea in the long run, but we know
|
||
nothing of the true evil that motivates him! We would kill him
|
||
just to lose track of the true evil we must smite!</p>
|
||
<p><strong>Y’aml</strong><br />
|
||
But YOU said if I could turn into a dagger we could STAB him.
|
||
HE’S EVIL. YOU said so! Not keeping your promises IS one step
|
||
away from PURE evil! Make a choice Hardy Bear! Stab the evil
|
||
hobbit, or stab the inkling, or stab SOMETHING evil this
|
||
minute!</p>
|
||
<p><strong>Corraidhin</strong><br />
|
||
I most certainly cannot abide with stabbing Inky, it’s
|
||
entirely off the table. And in a city like this there aren’t
|
||
any evil things that just jump out for the stabbing.</p>
|
||
<p>(Corraidhin tries to silently control Y’aml during the
|
||
discussion. However in so doing the party has fallen silent,
|
||
aghast even)</p>
|
||
<p>Corraidhin stands, Y’aml held in hand, red gem eye gleaming
|
||
a wicked joyful grin as it’s raised high, poised to strike.
|
||
The party around him is silent, and Blavin stares up in shock.
|
||
The tavern around them has died down and you can hear the
|
||
bustle of the proprietor calling for his strong men to deal
|
||
with this ruckus.</p>
|
||
</blockquote>
|
||
<p>The table—and all of Lucy’s Basement within earshot—sits in
|
||
tense, uneasy quiet at Corraidhin’s one-sided conversation
|
||
with the Sword of Yam’L. Blavin giggles nervously and sips his
|
||
martini, willfully forcing himself right up to the very last
|
||
moment to believe that it is all some sort of jest.</p>
|
||
<p>But then the sysorcerer stands and raises the blood crazed
|
||
dagger over his shoulder, and Blavin squeals and writhes in
|
||
his chair. Lucy’s bouncers scramble forward from the corners
|
||
of the room to intercept.</p>
|
||
<blockquote>
|
||
<p><strong>Y’aml</strong><br />
|
||
We STAB Hardy Bear! We STAB NOW!!</p>
|
||
<p>Against Corraidhin’s control, as though he’s in a trance,
|
||
the dagger comes down. A swift stabbing motion strqight to the
|
||
neck, as he lunges across the table at Blavin knocking the map
|
||
and his martini to the side.</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—Yam’L cries out in wordless glee—and the
|
||
weight flows into the tip of the blade, the blade itself now
|
||
drawing Corraidhin’s hand downward in a rising crescendo of
|
||
stabbitude.</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>
|
||
]]>
|
||
</description>
|
||
</item>
|
||
<item>
|
||
<title>25</title>
|
||
<author>dozens@tilde.team (dozens)</author>
|
||
<guid isPermaLink="false">25 - Sun, 23 Oct 2022 09:41:16
|
||
-0600</guid>
|
||
<pubDate>Sun, 23 Oct 2022 09:41:16 -0600</pubDate>
|
||
<description>
|
||
<![CDATA[
|
||
<h3 id="00025">00025</h3>
|
||
<blockquote>
|
||
<p><strong>Corraidhin</strong> Shit, shit shit shit shit shit.
|
||
This is NOT good. Damn it Y’aml what was that? It wasn’t even
|
||
slightly stealthy</p>
|
||
<p><strong>Y’aml</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,
|
||
it’s heavy, hurts. Misty and red? I can’t see straight, it’s
|
||
hard to think straight. That blasted sword, I thought for a
|
||
moment it, no, not think, it definitely did move on its own.
|
||
It became lighter and heavier. Pulling against it and it just
|
||
weighs itself down. This little magical bauble is definitely
|
||
cursed..</p>
|
||
<p><strong>Y’aml</strong> CURSED?! Rude Hardy Bear. All we did
|
||
was stab that evil hobbit. And it’s getting away! Stab him
|
||
again, taste his blood! The tavern gaurds are closing in, they
|
||
look like they’re trying to get rid of us, EVIL. Them trying
|
||
to stop us from getting that evil hobbit is EVIL, STAB
|
||
THEM.</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>Y’aml</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.
|
||
You’ve had your fun, now STOP. These people are innocent, this
|
||
man has done us no harm despite his potential “evils”, this is
|
||
entirely uncalled for!</p>
|
||
<p><strong>Y’aml</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 Corraidhin’s mental
|
||
strength. All he hears is EVIL. STAB. EVIL. STAB. Yet he
|
||
clings to his spare arm trying desparately to resist. At this
|
||
point the party and the tavern has cleared a wide path around
|
||
the sysorceor as he struggles with himself, mumbling,
|
||
sometimes yelling. EVIL. STAB. EVIL. STAB. NO WE WILL NOT.
|
||
EVIL. INNOCENT. STAB BLOOD DRINK. EVIL. EVIL EVIL EVIL STAB
|
||
IT. MAKE IT BLEED. I WILL NO.. STAB IT. STAB HIM.</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 wizard’s expression, Inky continues, more
|
||
quietly, “If Master Corraidhín truly wishes to end the hobbit,
|
||
a mere imp would not stop him, but likewise, whatever he sets
|
||
his mind to do, a dagger cannot stop him either.”</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. I’m buying, and I’ll spin you
|
||
all a tale of wonder! A tale of a wanderer, and of a war
|
||
hammer, and the first of their wild battles together!”</p>
|
||
<p>Leaning over to whisper urgently in Corraidhín’s ear:
|
||
“Friend, I do not know what occurs here, but pull yourself
|
||
together. We can later sate our blood lust in more appropriate
|
||
places!” Jarrod lends a sly wink in the sysorcerer’s
|
||
direction, one that promises adventure later.</p>
|
||
</blockquote>
|
||
<p>The tavern guards tense, but pause their advance, as the
|
||
crazed mage’s friends position themselves protectively around
|
||
him and try to placate him. They wouldn’t want to engage a
|
||
master sysorcerer on the best of days, much less one with some
|
||
kind of malevolent blood dagger in the middle of a psychotic
|
||
break. If his compatriots can handle him without them having
|
||
to interfere, all the better.</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 groll’s wrist, and immediately launches
|
||
into a tirade against the cracklestick’s manufacturer’s
|
||
proprietary spell slotting algorithm, and honestly how can you
|
||
possibly justify your choices when there are open source
|
||
alternatives available?</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 gnu’s grasping hands. The ensuing scuffle
|
||
threatens to turn this powder keg of a situation into a full
|
||
blown conflagration until Jarrod actives his FASCINATING
|
||
CHARM, commanding the attention of the entire room.</p>
|
||
<p>The gnu freezes with its hands around the groll’s throat.
|
||
The groll halts with fists full of the gnu’s beard. A grub
|
||
smoking a hookah pauses with the mouthpiece raised to its
|
||
pursed lips. A distracted waitress on roller skates crashes
|
||
right into the bar.</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.. what’s going on, he mutters feebly to himself.
|
||
Everything is a blurr. Uncertain of where he is or what’s
|
||
going on, Corraidhin thumbs the dagger, caressing the large
|
||
ruby embedded in the hilt. Y’aml, you’re still here, good
|
||
good, the syscoreor croons.</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 Lucy’s 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>
|
||
]]>
|
||
</description>
|
||
</item>
|
||
<item>
|
||
<title>21</title>
|
||
<author>dozens@tilde.team (dozens)</author>
|
||
<guid isPermaLink="false">21 - Wed, 05 Oct 2022 07:21:55
|
||
-0600</guid>
|
||
<pubDate>Wed, 05 Oct 2022 07:21:55 -0600</pubDate>
|
||
<description>
|
||
<![CDATA[
|
||
<h3 id="00021">00021</h3>
|
||
<p>INTERLUDE</p>
|
||
<blockquote>
|
||
<p>A glorious victory!</p>
|
||
<p>In the interim time Corraidhin studies the sword of Y’aml,
|
||
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. It’s obvious people
|
||
don’t 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 “Kevin’s
|
||
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 Inky’s 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 Vay’Nullar’s notorious back alleys.</p>
|
||
<p>Master Corraidhín’s cautionary words of wisdom still echo
|
||
in Inky’s 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 — it’s 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 Inky’s 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 can’t 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 Vay’Nullar.</p>
|
||
<p>The ground level is occupied by longtime district staple
|
||
Enrique’s 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>It’s 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 Corraidhin’s assistance, you are able to enchant your
|
||
armband by inscribing it with a cross-like glyph with a
|
||
teardrop-shaped loop in place of the vertical upper bar. You
|
||
now have a FASCINATING BANGLE that can, upon activation,
|
||
compel attention and even potentially inspire people to dance
|
||
about.</p>
|
||
<p>WHAT DO YOU DO</p>
|
||
<p><a
|
||
href="https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-10/msg00001.html">www</a></p>
|
||
]]>
|
||
</description>
|
||
</item>
|
||
<item>
|
||
<title>27</title>
|
||
<author>dozens@tilde.team (dozens)</author>
|
||
<guid isPermaLink="false">27 - Tue, 25 Oct 2022 14:14:31
|
||
-0600</guid>
|
||
<pubDate>Fri, 28 Oct 2022 10:36:42 -0600</pubDate>
|
||
<description>
|
||
<![CDATA[
|
||
<h3 id="00027">00027</h3>
|
||
<blockquote>
|
||
<p>Inky stares down at the package, weighing it on one
|
||
hand.</p>
|
||
<p>It was lighter than it should be given the density of the
|
||
contents within, wrapped in straw and thick brown
|
||
weight-absorbent parcel paper for dry goods. Most of the
|
||
clientele were merchants and cultists from other parts of the
|
||
continent who ordered pallets to be shipped back from the port
|
||
town and sold to select boutique grocers or spilled on altars.
|
||
Inside was a block of congealed synthetic blood shaped like a
|
||
mud brick, the dark crimson almost black under the shop’s 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, wouldn’t any
|
||
student of magic have already thought of it, let alone an
|
||
experienced sysorceror? In all likelihood he had already known
|
||
the inevitable, but was too polite to refuse Inky’s funny
|
||
concoctions. Maybe deep down, Inky already knew too, but
|
||
didn’t want to say it out loud. That the long feather they
|
||
thought they had seen among the tea leaves was actually a
|
||
dagger. That they hadn’t wanted to admit some problems could
|
||
not be whisked away with some tincture or another. That they
|
||
had failed, again.</p>
|
||
<p>They hadn’t searched enough for better ingredients to go
|
||
into the pudding, hadn’t reacted fast enough after noticing
|
||
the sword had abruptly disappeared, hadn’t thrown the large
|
||
platter of mouldy meat the terrified waitress next to them had
|
||
been holding at Blavin’s head, or something. The sword had
|
||
gotten what it demanded, and Inky couldn’t be angry with it —
|
||
it had never been subtle about what it wanted. Had the blood
|
||
pudding worsened the effects? Potions had never been on Inky’s
|
||
menu. Brewing inks and teas with certain mild effects was
|
||
straightforward enough, but curing chronic ailments was firmly
|
||
in healers’ territory and just as bewildering. While it may be
|
||
true nobody could be held to account for the actions of
|
||
another not in full control of themselves, and hardly those of
|
||
a rogue weapon with a mind of its own, sticking their nose in
|
||
other people’s affairs was the surest way to get into trouble,
|
||
a fact Inky still has difficulty learning after decades of
|
||
wandering the continent.</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 sailor’s rags still
|
||
reeking of cheap alcohol, and passing by the wizard’s empty
|
||
cabin on the way to the deck, places the messy bundle on the
|
||
floorboards two steps from the door. Let the fates decide this
|
||
one, because Inky’s magic 0 ball sure doesn’t make the best
|
||
life choices.</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 town’s
|
||
cosmopolitan mixture of culture. Every kind of style, cuisine,
|
||
decor, and beverage can be found here mishmashed together
|
||
irregardless of good taste. Its contents are encyclopedic and
|
||
claustrophobic. And yet it is not without its own peculiar
|
||
brand of overwhelming, garish charm.</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. “It’s why I walk so slow, you see.” The other
|
||
barflies call him “Lucky” Three-Fingered Gerald. Because a
|
||
certain kind of man—and Gerald is one of them—can never have
|
||
enough nicknames. After you buy him a drink or three, he
|
||
escorts you out of Inquire Within and to the slip where the
|
||
sloop <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 isn’t too far off the coast,
|
||
and you arrive fairly quickly.</p>
|
||
<p>“Aye, here she is. The SS RSS.” says Captain Barlow
|
||
mournfully. “You can’t see her from up here. But you rest
|
||
assured, she’s down there, resting on the seabed. She was the
|
||
best cargo runner on the Sugrin back in her day! Distributing
|
||
goods up and down the coast. Until the day she disappeared.
|
||
Nobody knew what happened to her, not for sure. Still don’t.
|
||
But at least we know where she wound up!”</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, didn’t we! Managed to scoop
|
||
up a whole bunch of the little suckers. You ever use a
|
||
breathing bell before? No? Aw, it’s easy! Ya just pull one on
|
||
over your head like a hood, and it’ll breathe for ya while
|
||
you’re below the waves!”</p>
|
||
<p>WHAT DO YOU DO</p>
|
||
<p>NOTE: We just covered a lot of narrative ground. Feel free
|
||
to react to anything that happened between arriving at the
|
||
docks, meeting Gerald and drinking at Inquire Within, boarding
|
||
the Diamond Howler, and sailing to the site of the wreck.</p>
|
||
<p><a
|
||
href="https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-10/msg00020.html">www</a></p>
|
||
]]>
|
||
</description>
|
||
</item>
|
||
<item>
|
||
<title>23</title>
|
||
<author>dozens@tilde.team (dozens)</author>
|
||
<guid isPermaLink="false">23 - Sat, 22 Oct 2022 09:36:52
|
||
-0600</guid>
|
||
<pubDate>Sat, 22 Oct 2022 09:36:52 -0600</pubDate>
|
||
<description>
|
||
<![CDATA[
|
||
<h3 id="00023">00023</h3>
|
||
<blockquote>
|
||
<p>Why no, we don’t mind much about competition, certainly
|
||
nothing wrong. Can’t imagine someone to put all of their eggs
|
||
in one basket, especially when whatever it is they desire is
|
||
so valuable.</p>
|
||
<p>That said, our benefactor must be pretty eager to get these
|
||
crystals if he’s willing to send out team after team. I mean,
|
||
we’re team 43, that’s a lot of people to pay and a lot of
|
||
eagerness to find these crystals. Why is that? What benefit
|
||
are these shiny rocks to them? What even is their purpose in
|
||
retrieving them?</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 aren’t meant to go anywhere.</p>
|
||
<p>Now I’m not trying to point fingers here, morality is many
|
||
shades of gray, and it isn’t really my job to suss out what
|
||
you’re doing. But I’m a curious sysorceor, and when I see a
|
||
chance to learn I seize upon the moment. There’s something
|
||
here you’re not telling us, and I for one and keen to know
|
||
it.</p>
|
||
</blockquote>
|
||
<p>“I wouldn’t worry your wizened old brow about it,” Blavin
|
||
chuckles, sloshing his drink. “The Benefactor’s concern is
|
||
precisely the same as yours! These items are of enormous
|
||
cultural and historical significance, to say nothing of their
|
||
well of concentrated arcane energies. They’re dangerous just
|
||
sitting out there in the world. Who knows who might come
|
||
across one and use it for nefarious purposes.”</p>
|
||
<p>Yam’L’s 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: I’m gonna preface the sword speech with this to make
|
||
it quicker to write</p>
|
||
<p><strong>Y’aml</strong><br />
|
||
I like what you’re putting down here, this guy is DEFINITELY
|
||
evil. Nobody asks loads of people to steal things for them
|
||
without being evil. I say we stab him, nice and good, right in
|
||
the gut. Maybe 6 or 7 times. I’m positive nobody will mind.
|
||
Evil people steal things, we saw that inky creature stealing
|
||
things from that vault, definitely evil. (singsong) Evil evil
|
||
evil, stab stab stab, make the evil go away with every little
|
||
stab~</p>
|
||
<p><strong>Corraidhin to Y’aml</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
|
||
can’t just stab someone in a busy pub! Besides you’re a sword,
|
||
and stabbing someone in a pub is the job of a dagger. So
|
||
unless you can transform into the Dagger of Y’aml I think
|
||
we’re out of luck here.</p>
|
||
</blockquote>
|
||
<p>Yam’L gets a curious look in its eye at the suggestion.
|
||
“CHALLENGE ACCEPTED!” it cries directly into your mind. It
|
||
squeezes its eye shut and trembles with intense concentration.
|
||
With great effort, the sword shrinks itself down to the size
|
||
of a dagger, shunting its extra mass off into yamlspace.</p>
|
||
<p>“There!” it says breathlessly, opening its eye wearily.
|
||
“Now, Hardy Bear. You promised..” it continues, its eye
|
||
glinting with growing ferocity. “Let’s. STAB. THE HOBBIT!”</p>
|
||
<blockquote>
|
||
<p>While the wizard pressed Blavin about the crystal’s
|
||
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
|
||
Blavin’s table at Lucy’s 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 sysorceor’s
|
||
gleaming sword and resisted returning the stare with an
|
||
eyeroll. Watching Stabby eyeing up their case manager over
|
||
Master Corraidhín’s shoulder reminded Inky of a conversation
|
||
they had overheard a few evenings ago between two pale coffin
|
||
sleepers about a new product from the hemogoblins that was
|
||
said to quench the thirst for longer than the leading brand.
|
||
They might be able to find some at the town of Plasma, which
|
||
sits by the Hartlands on the way to the shipwreck. It seems
|
||
the milky blood pudding could do with some improvement.</p>
|
||
</blockquote>
|
||
<p>You note on Blavin’s map that the Hemogoblin region is
|
||
indeed on the way to the shipwreck. At least, it’s not that
|
||
far out of the way. You reckon their synthetic blood product
|
||
would indeed be a much better substitute for the real thing
|
||
than the milk you’ve been feeding the thirsty sword thus
|
||
far.</p>
|
||
<p>Or, at the very least, you’ll get a new variant of the
|
||
blood pudding recipe you’ve been working on!</p>
|
||
<blockquote>
|
||
<p>Maybe someone else’s mood will be improved in the meantime?
|
||
Before setting out for their meeting with Blavin, Inky slipped
|
||
into the kitchens downstairs and left the empanada chef a
|
||
trick-and-treat. A plate of honeyed breadfruit and ghost
|
||
pepper tapas sat on an icebox atop a new pair of Blueberry
|
||
oven mittens with a pattern of tiny smiling green turtles.
|
||
Tucked inside one mitten was a slip of paper (regrettably
|
||
inedible) that simply read “BACK SOON :)”. A tapa recipe,
|
||
which included a note on adapting the toppings for pan frying,
|
||
was printed on the reverse in neat blocky letters and
|
||
sandalwood ink.</p>
|
||
</blockquote>
|
||
<p>Enrique wakes in the middle of the night to start baking
|
||
the next day’s breads and empanadas. He frowns thoughtfully
|
||
when he sees yet another mysterious gift from across the room.
|
||
Again? What little elf must have taken up residence in his
|
||
shop? But his face cracks into a smile when he sees the
|
||
presentation and the oven mitts. And the smile becomes a
|
||
bonafide grin when he tastes the fare and finds the
|
||
recipe.</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>> A) MORE QUESTIONING, OR B) TIME FOR SHIPWRECK?</p>
|
||
<p><a
|
||
href="https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-10/msg00008.html">www</a></p>
|
||
]]>
|
||
</description>
|
||
</item>
|
||
<item>
|
||
<title>22</title>
|
||
<author>dozens@tilde.team (dozens)</author>
|
||
<guid isPermaLink="false">22 - Thu, 06 Oct 2022 07:38:24
|
||
-0600</guid>
|
||
<pubDate>Sun, 16 Oct 2022 10:15:14 -0600</pubDate>
|
||
<description>
|
||
<![CDATA[
|
||
<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. Inky’s 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 hasn’t 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 barley’s 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 Inky’s vest, and
|
||
wouldn’t 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 hasn’t 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< 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 it’s in
|
||
production they won’t have a say whether to learn it or not!
|
||
That’s at least how I got that delightfully licorice tasting
|
||
incantation in production laster year, much to the chagrin of
|
||
those who don’t have a taste for Fennel. I for one was
|
||
delighted with it.</p>
|
||
<p>“Corraidhin, STAB HIM, that suggestion, he’s 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? You’ve been off ever since you got back from that last
|
||
on site deployment.”</p>
|
||
<p>Oh yes, yes, I’m 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 it’s a bit large and empty for
|
||
just myself. I’ll 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 I’ll take the
|
||
upstairs loft.”</p>
|
||
<p>“You most certainly can! But in exchange, I’d be curious to
|
||
render your services, see I’ve 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, I’ll 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
|
||
they’ll be able to enter the house and take up residence!”</p>
|
||
<p>Corraidhin gathers himself and heads upstairs to his new
|
||
attaic abode, it’s small, and dusty, but there’s 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 Corraidhin’s 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 corraidhin’s mind, it’s 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 wizard’s tower in the building,
|
||
so it’s 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 hadn’t known better, were it not for Master
|
||
Corraidhín’s mental acuity and fortitude, they would have
|
||
suspected Stabby of stoking horrible images of beheaded
|
||
priests into their bearer’s 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 Stabby’s
|
||
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 didn’t 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 can’t figure out the flavors of the tapas. Some elusive
|
||
combination of ingredients that he can’t quite suss out. If he
|
||
could collaborate with the tapas chef on a new line of
|
||
empanadas, he’d have a line of customers out the door and
|
||
around the corner, he’s 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 Yam’L 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 inkling’s 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 Lucy’s
|
||
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 don’t 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 you’re 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, Primora’s
|
||
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 Vay’Nullar,
|
||
bordered by the Gnomelands to the south, and the Tammineaux
|
||
Forest to the east. Beyond the forest is the Rana’For
|
||
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>
|
||
]]>
|
||
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|
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|
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