1049 lines
63 KiB
XML
1049 lines
63 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>
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<atom:link href="https://tilde.town/~dozens/quest/rss.xml" rel="self" type="application/rss+xml" />
|
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<title>BASEMENT QWEST</title>
|
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<link>https://tilde.town/~dozens/quest/rss.xml</link>
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<description>Friends having ADVENTURES! Huzzah!</description>
|
||
<item>
|
||
<title>56</title>
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||
<author>dozens@tilde.team (dozens)</author>
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||
<guid isPermaLink="false">56 - Mon, 16 Jan 2023 14:10:25
|
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-0700</guid>
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||
<pubDate>Mon, 16 Jan 2023 14:10:25 -0700</pubDate>
|
||
<description>
|
||
<![CDATA[
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<h3 id="00056">00056</h3>
|
||
<blockquote>
|
||
<p>The agitation Alex feels bubbles just beneath the surface.
|
||
Patterns where patterns shouldn’t be, strange orders from HQ,
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||
indifference where once was ample aide as well. It was
|
||
maddening. Combine it all with the haunting suspicion that
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||
there was constantly someone just around the next corner, and
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||
it was enough to truly drive Alex mad.</p>
|
||
<p>That uneasiness takes its toll on a long enough time line,
|
||
but Alex wasn’t about to let it get to him. Or so he thought
|
||
to himself as he cast a furtive look at his monitoring
|
||
equipment. This paranoia had served him well in the past, very
|
||
well in fact. It’s a sort of sixth sense in a way, always kept
|
||
Alex off the edge of the cliff, especially when someone
|
||
stepped close enough to push him off. Those were the types of
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||
skills HQ sought after in the first place.</p>
|
||
<p>Alex closes the iron door on his bunker, leaving his
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||
monitoring equipment running, dead man’s trigger set to blow
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||
the place shoul anyone enter it. Can’t be too careful these
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||
days..</p>
|
||
<p>Emerging from the sewer grate, sticking to the shadows,
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||
Alex makes his way down an alley, then another, and yet
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||
another, finally emerging a few blocks from the Milk Market.
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||
Across the street, as he had expected, was Marvelo’s Marvelous
|
||
MurderSticks, a quaint place should one needed something, well
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||
you get the picture, they don’t really sell anything but
|
||
weaponry here.</p>
|
||
<p>Alex ducked into the entrance of the shop and strode
|
||
towards the back rack, where a collection of knives was on
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||
display. A rough looking fellow, ruddy red beard, thinning
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||
hair, moved from the counter as he saw Alex approach. “Fine
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||
sampling of knives we have, could I interest you in one?”
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||
Marvelo says. Alex reaches for a thin stilleto style dagger,
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||
and hands it to Marvelo “This one seems about right, but I’d
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||
like an extra sharp edge put on it, if you don’t mind”.
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||
Marvelo takes the stilleto from Alex say “Not a problem at all
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||
sir”, and he heads into the back.</p>
|
||
<p>He sets to work honing the edge, and once complete he
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||
places it on his work bench. Grabbing a velvet lined case from
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a stack, he deftly removes the bottom and places a rolled
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||
piece of paper into the bottom, alongside an m1911 style
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||
pistol, and a couple of clips of ammo. He then places the
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||
velvet bottom back over the equipment, and places the stilleto
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||
on top, bringing the entire package back to the front. “An
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extra fine edge on this one sir, that’ll be 15 gold, plus
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another 5 to cover the service.</p>
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||
<p>Alex pays, and nips out the shop and heads back to the back
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alley. Paranoia begets what it requets, Alex mutters to
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||
himself as he disassembles the box holstering the pistol and
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ammo, and sheathing the dagger. Can’t keep going unarmed like
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I’m some kind of beat cop, not anymore.. Alex discards the
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case and unfurls the message, quickly deciphering the
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||
encryption set on it by Marvelo.</p>
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<pre><code>The hunt is still on, no word on Blavin nor the Iris group, yet.
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Agent 7 heard rumor of a couple of persons inquiring about the "Milk Market" these past few days.
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Agent 3 heard similar rumors, was able to bribe a melon vendor to acertain the figure wore a red sash, and was looking for friends.
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Agent 6 has kept watch on the Market, nothing strange yet, coming and goings as usual, no strange visitors
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Agent 4 monitoring feeds still present glitches, something abnormal
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Agent 5 found the melon vendor dead in a back alley, strangled to death, not immediate signs of blunt force trauma, caution advised</code></pre>
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<p>Alex burned the note, striding rapidly away from the alley,
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||
taking a meandering route away from the Milk Market, looping
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back around, and heading back towards it by yet another.
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Nobody appeared to be following him, yet he paused at each
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corner and turn, waiting for the footsteps of a pursuant.</p>
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||
<p>Noting nothing, he made his way through the back entrance
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||
of Enrique’s Empanadas greeting the cook quietly, but jovial.
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“Enrique, where’s Inky? We’ve got a problem.”</p>
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||
</blockquote>
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||
<p>~</p>
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||
<blockquote>
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||
<p>Inky skims the page. They thank the witch, pay for the
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items and exit the shop, promptly discarding all notions of
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meeting Bother at the place stipulated on the note.</p>
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||
<p><em>(Half and one hour later)</em></p>
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||
<p>One-sixths into a caramel cantaloupe cream cornet, Inky
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||
runs into Confidence outside the Wandering Bazaar and obtains
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some of their new pamphlets, minted with luminescent ink for
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the convenience of late-night tourists. These are subsequently
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||
hare-mailed to every editor at the <em>Niuewstijl</em> office,
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||
which is almost certain to earn another chiding remark from
|
||
Tess about etiquette and the handling of unsolicited bulk mail
|
||
to parent editorial teams.</p>
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||
<p><em>(Half and two hours later)</em></p>
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||
<p>The installation on display at the Milk Market was
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||
grotesque — that is to say, a work of beauty. Inky steps
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||
carefully through the rooms to not disturb the piece.
|
||
Afterwards, they sign the guestbook set up on an upturned milk
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||
crate by the door, delightedly pasting rows of horse head and
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||
thumbs-up emo Gs on a page thoughtfully titled “you can’t ed
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||
the unedible”.</p>
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||
<p><em>(Half and three hours earlier)</em></p>
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||
<p>Thanking Agate for her time, Inky passes her a sheet of
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||
paper on which were written a few questions about the
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||
prescribed ritual, with some space after each question should
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||
the witch prefer to scribble a response:</p>
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||
<ul>
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||
<li><p>What do guides in the Sea of Dreams and the Ravenfolk
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||
typically seek in return for directing travellers to the
|
||
correct pocket dimension?</p></li>
|
||
<li><p>An establishment inside the Bazaar is only open in the
|
||
evenings whenever it appears in the city. How long does travel
|
||
to a pocket dimension typically take, allowing for time to
|
||
seek out a guide? Is there a way travellers can estimate the
|
||
time to set out on their journey, in order to arrive at the
|
||
establishment while it is open?</p></li>
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||
<li><p>Who are the Red Spider and “Dude 215R” mentioned in the
|
||
ritual? How can travellers avoid summoning them?</p></li>
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||
<li><p>Would anything happen to the travellers if any of the
|
||
sigils were removed during the ritual before they wake
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||
up?</p></li>
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||
</ul>
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||
<p><em>(Half and four hours later)</em></p>
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||
<p>Two sets of eyes peer down at the contents of an open tin.
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One accompanied by a focused look and a little trepidation,
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||
following the pinkish, flesh-like chunks speckled with white
|
||
pockets of fat as they tumble into a hot pan and almost
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||
immediately begin to move of their own accord. The moving
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||
mounds resemble small round mouths opening, each with a rim of
|
||
sharp teeth. The other pair of eyes belongs to a grinning face
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||
that beams when the mounds bloom into bright red flat caps,
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||
the edges beneath about to soften in the olive oil.</p>
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||
<p>Minutes after, The slices are ready. Inky accepts the plate
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||
of tostada with spicy pickled artichoke mushrooms and tomatoes
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||
with a murmur of thanks. Reassembling the recipe for the
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||
tinned spicy artichoke mushrooms had been a tedious process —
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||
someone had ripped out the pages from an old pickling book
|
||
that had long ceased publication. Eventually Inky found a
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||
former nomad who had eaten them for two years in their youth
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||
and could recall or somewhat describe the taste. Flowery and
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||
savoury, they said. Many taste tests later, it turned out to
|
||
be closer to partially decomposed cheese in ponderosa lemon
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||
juice. Canning was fortuitously easier with the increasing
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||
portability of sealers. Rather than telling the empanada chef
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||
any of this, Inky watches satisfaction slowly spread across
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||
his face. The tale that follows is far more entertaining.</p>
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||
<p><em>(Half and five hours later)</em></p>
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||
<p>While measuring out ingredients for the forty-second tea
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||
infusion since the start of the missions, not that Inky was
|
||
keeping a close count, they hear a familiar voice a short
|
||
distance outside the door asking for their whereabouts.
|
||
Without pausing in their whisking, Inky simply informs the
|
||
owner of the voice they’re not here, obviously, before
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||
emerging from the storage pantry with a fresh pot and bowls on
|
||
a wooden tray, and greets the returning sysorcerer.</p>
|
||
</blockquote>
|
||
<p>Agate writes back quickly:</p>
|
||
<blockquote>
|
||
<p>What do guides in the Sea of Dreams and the Ravenfolk
|
||
typically seek in return for directing travellers to the
|
||
correct pocket dimension?</p>
|
||
</blockquote>
|
||
<p>Intangibles. Usually memories, hopes, or dreams.</p>
|
||
<blockquote>
|
||
<p>An establishment inside the Bazaar is only open in the
|
||
evenings whenever it appears in the city. How long does travel
|
||
to a pocket dimension typically take, allowing for time to
|
||
seek out a guide? Is there a way travellers can estimate the
|
||
time to set out on their journey, in order to arrive at the
|
||
establishment while it is open?</p>
|
||
</blockquote>
|
||
<p>You’ll find that time is rather malleable on the Otherside.
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||
You’ll likely arrive exactly when you’re meant to. No need to
|
||
worry too much about it.</p>
|
||
<blockquote>
|
||
<p>Who are the Red Spider and “Dude 215R” mentioned in the
|
||
ritual? How can travellers avoid summoning them?</p>
|
||
</blockquote>
|
||
<p>Godforms manifested by the Linking Sigil and the Dream
|
||
Sigil, respectively. It’s not <em>terrible</em> if they show
|
||
up. But it’s definitely not ideal. You shouldn’t register on
|
||
their radar as long as you don’t pump too much energy into, or
|
||
siphon to much energy out of, the sigils. If they do show up,
|
||
just know that you’re in the presence of a godlike power, and
|
||
behave accordingly.</p>
|
||
<blockquote>
|
||
<p>Would anything happen to the travellers if any of the
|
||
sigils were removed during the ritual before they wake up?</p>
|
||
</blockquote>
|
||
<p>If the sigils are removed or if the circle is broken,
|
||
you’ll likely just wake up before you wanted to. Same goes for
|
||
if your dreamform is destroyed while in the Dreaming. The only
|
||
real danger you may encounter is the Scissormen and their ilk.
|
||
They will attempt to permanently sever your dreamform from
|
||
your waking body. Which would leave your body a soulless husk,
|
||
and leave your consciousness adrift in the Sea of Dreams. But
|
||
that probably won’t happen! Okay good luck, have fun!</p>
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||
<p>WHAT DO YOU DO</p>
|
||
]]>
|
||
</description>
|
||
</item>
|
||
<item>
|
||
<title>57</title>
|
||
<author>dozens@tilde.team (dozens)</author>
|
||
<guid isPermaLink="false">57 - Mon, 16 Jan 2023 20:30:44
|
||
-0700</guid>
|
||
<pubDate>Fri, 20 Jan 2023 14:58:46 -0700</pubDate>
|
||
<description>
|
||
<![CDATA[
|
||
<h3 id="00057">00057</h3>
|
||
<blockquote>
|
||
<p>Alex lifts his teacup and sips the fragrantly tea,
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||
“perfumed of rosehips, and cardamum? An interesting choice. I
|
||
appreciate it Inky, these past few days have been terribly
|
||
rough, and I’m rather tired of field rations.” Alex takes a
|
||
sip, and then continues hurridly. “I’ve been monitoring the
|
||
Bazar, we are in grave danger. It started with just me, but I
|
||
fear it’s bled over to everyone here at the Milk Market. I
|
||
can’t be entirely certain.”</p>
|
||
<p>Alex looks worriedly at Inky. “There’s a lot going on here.
|
||
As soon as we got back from Kelsun I was sent on an
|
||
assignment, normally not an issue, but they wanted me to level
|
||
3 of the busiest coffee shops in the bazar. I planted those
|
||
bombs, alongside listening devices, and then I bugged out. My
|
||
team appears to have been assigned equally bizarre
|
||
assignments, all rather violent messy things. A lot of
|
||
innocent lives are on the line here.”</p>
|
||
<p>“We dropped off the grid, I’ve got an isolated listening
|
||
post in the sewers here, it’s heavily reinforced and that’s
|
||
where I’ve been hiding out, but I’m not certain it’s safe.
|
||
Agent 5 found a melon vendor dead in the market, and this
|
||
vendor was specifically seeking out the Milk Market, looking
|
||
for us. I believe it may be an assassin, could be from HQ,
|
||
could be from Blavin. It’s entirely opaque to me.”</p>
|
||
<p>“As far as I can tell, my agents are all loyal to me,
|
||
there’s 5 of them in total, 6 if you count me. We could man
|
||
the ship and get the hell out of here in a few hours, and it
|
||
may be our best chance. But there’s the iris letter we need to
|
||
attend to, and I cannot for the life of me find anything, not
|
||
a damn trace, of Blavin. And I think all of this bodes very
|
||
poorly for us.”</p>
|
||
<p>Alex looks worriedly at Inky, and you’re telling me we have
|
||
a ritual we have to perform, to find the iris group’s meeting
|
||
place.. I’m leery Ink, I have to be you see. But my uncle
|
||
trusted you, and I do as well. If you think this is our best
|
||
shot, we can hole up in the sewers and try to perform this
|
||
dream walk of your witch friend’s. But if this iris business
|
||
turns out to be a trap, well, how well can you handle a
|
||
gun?</p>
|
||
</blockquote>
|
||
<p>~</p>
|
||
<blockquote>
|
||
<p>“Your courage and concern are admirable, Master Alex.
|
||
Caution is likewise advisable.” Inky nods seriously.</p>
|
||
<p>The next moment, they gave the sysorcerer a slightly
|
||
deranged grin. “I’m sure you have already seen many grave
|
||
dangers. What’s another one for the bucket list? What’s life
|
||
if not violent and messy? So many melons dismembered and laid
|
||
waste daily—”</p>
|
||
<p>As if suddenly recalling a detail, Inky pauses and blinks.
|
||
“Melon vendor? Oh, poor Pepo. He has been complaining about
|
||
his neighbour’s boa constrictors for years. The serpents were
|
||
drawn to the rodents his fruits typically attracted, which
|
||
might not have been a problem were it not for them hanging out
|
||
at his stall and scaring off his customers. Maybe he finally
|
||
took matters into his own hands, with tragic results.” They
|
||
look at an empty mixing bowl across the table glumly. “He had
|
||
offered to bring over a few of the new variety as soon as they
|
||
arrived, as he was already delivering to a household the next
|
||
district over.”</p>
|
||
<p>They send Master Alex a sidelong glance. “Someone is after
|
||
you? You didn’t do something horrid like help an old
|
||
grandmother cross the street on sockless skates, for
|
||
instance?” Refilling the sysorcerer’s cup, Inky continues, “As
|
||
for Blavin, only 3 of the crystals have been recovered. Blavin
|
||
knows Team 43 is his best chance of obtaining the others.
|
||
Until he has all the crystals, he will stay his hand. If he
|
||
doesn’t know that, then he is hardly a threat.”</p>
|
||
<p>Setting down the teapot, Inky shrugs. “They seem eager to
|
||
get our attention. I suppose I could spare them their twelve
|
||
minutes of fame, for the right price. Enlightenment would
|
||
probably be too much to ask of a nightmare. If you’d rather
|
||
take your team and make a run for it instead, that’s fine too.
|
||
If they come knocking I’ll just tell them you missed the hotel
|
||
fondue at Kelsun Peak.”</p>
|
||
<p>Their gaze skips to one of the cups before they shake their
|
||
head. “No gun.” They turn around and take down a bamboo
|
||
walking stick hanging from a hook on a wall next to a worn
|
||
coat. Inky grasps the handle and pulls. It slides out quietly
|
||
to reveal a long, thin, tapered surgical steel tube which, if
|
||
someone were to lean in for a closer inspection, is sparsely
|
||
covered in tiny, needle-like protrusions along the surface. On
|
||
the underside, a transparent sliver ran the length of the tube
|
||
to end about a forefinger’s length from the handle. Visible
|
||
through the narrow window is a colourless liquid, most likely
|
||
a sedative or toxin, fills the reinforced steel interior.</p>
|
||
<p>They smile mirthlessly at Master Alex. “I don’t know that
|
||
Master Corraidhín trusted me, because if he did, it would have
|
||
been the most foolhardy thing the wise man has ever done. You
|
||
would do well to not make that mistake.”</p>
|
||
</blockquote>
|
||
<p>~</p>
|
||
<blockquote>
|
||
<p>“It doesn’t sound like we have all too much of an option”,
|
||
Alex says, as a little Scarab beetle in his pocket chimes,
|
||
“that’ll be the dead man’s trigger going off in my
|
||
hideout.”</p>
|
||
<p>Alex frowns, shame to lose all of that data, those systems,
|
||
that hideout.. but I hope whoever broke in enjoys thermite,
|
||
assuming they don’t asphyxiate quickly enough to miss the
|
||
fun..</p>
|
||
<p>Inky, you’re right, life is a bit violent and messy, so
|
||
lets bring the violent mess to these bastards. If you’ve got a
|
||
lead on this with this dream ritual, then fuck it, lets take
|
||
the risk. I won’t run from this fight, my uncle sure as hell
|
||
wouldn’t. And at worst, he’d go out with a magnificient bang.
|
||
Lets give it back tenfold, for poor Pepo.</p>
|
||
<p>Nodding his own approval Alex continues, I have another
|
||
hideout in the eastern quandrant, near the sysorcerer’s guild.
|
||
It’s a little risky to head out that way, but none of my
|
||
Zabbix alerts indicate it was compromised. It has automated
|
||
IDS and IPS systems, so we should be safe enough in there once
|
||
we whole up. At very least we’ll know if someone comes for us,
|
||
and we’ll have a little bit of time to react on it. We should
|
||
bring the Toques with us, and little blod clot, and the
|
||
duck.</p>
|
||
<p>Looking sorrowfully at Enrique, “I think it might be best
|
||
if you got the hell out of dodge too friend, it isn’t safe,
|
||
and I don’t want to see you become collateral here. Head down
|
||
to the wharf, I’ll have agent 5 meet you there, he’ll help you
|
||
and your family lay low until all of this blows over.”</p>
|
||
</blockquote>
|
||
<p>~</p>
|
||
<blockquote>
|
||
<p>At Enrique’s deep frown, Inky sighs and adds, “Might as
|
||
well do as Master Alex says. He can spot danger twelve blocks
|
||
away, and turtle soup is really out of fashion these
|
||
days.”</p>
|
||
<p>Then they excuse themselves to pack a few items, returning
|
||
about fifteen minutes later with a knapsack and a cross-strap
|
||
carrier draped in a black cloth cover. Inky says, “I hope you
|
||
don’t mind if I bring along a guest as well.”</p>
|
||
<p>The cover is pulled back to expose a dome-shaped birdhouse,
|
||
with transparent circular rings at the top partially obscured
|
||
by sliding shutters of the same shape. A wooden hoop with a
|
||
woven, web-like pattern and adorned with a string of feathers
|
||
hangs from one side. On the opposite side is a double door
|
||
with a miniature knob over each door. Inky lightly taps on one
|
||
of the doors, and at a low click coming from within in
|
||
response, swings the doors wide enough for the kitchen lamps
|
||
to illuminate the great horned owl resting on a pillow inside.
|
||
The bird opens one amber eye for a moment, gaze sweeping idly
|
||
across the occupants in the room before dozing off again.</p>
|
||
<p>“This is Fuko. She and her twin brother Futa have certain
|
||
shared connections. What one sees, the other will also know. I
|
||
asked their caretaker if I could borrow them for a while. Fuko
|
||
will accompany me for the ritual. Her brother is at another
|
||
location and can send a message if a need arises.” Inky
|
||
explains with a wry expression. “Think of it as a minor
|
||
indulgence of sorts. I was told their kind, along with eagle
|
||
owls, are very good at negotiating with those of the
|
||
ravens.”</p>
|
||
<p>They give the owl a small smile. “She may be a little
|
||
temperamental, but she is well-trained.” Closing the birdhouse
|
||
doors, Inky turns back to Master Alex. “I suppose you’d rather
|
||
not reveal the location of your hideout to any more people
|
||
than necessary. Her carrier will remain covered on the way in
|
||
and out.”</p>
|
||
</blockquote>
|
||
<p>Gliftwirp stands under the branches of a tree, pooled in
|
||
shadow, far from the small gathering. He has been to plenty of
|
||
funerals. Often under these very circumstances, in fact. And
|
||
he always keeps his distance out of respect.</p>
|
||
<p>For one, he owns no clothes but his vest, sash, and
|
||
trousers. And his bright red colors would be a sign of
|
||
disrespect among the mourners. Secondly and most importantly,
|
||
he himself is the one who put the man in the ground.</p>
|
||
<p>Sadly, he had little choice. He had underestimated the
|
||
sysorcer. Didn’t realize he had his own agents working for
|
||
him. When he realized that one of the agents had been in
|
||
contact with the melon vendor, he knew that Popplewick could
|
||
and would identify the warpwefter if pressured.</p>
|
||
<p>Gliftwirp had grown to enjoy his daily chats with the melon
|
||
vendor. Popplewick was a kind, determined man. A refugee from
|
||
the Cinderlands, his family came to Vay’Nullar following the
|
||
Artifice Wars when he was just a boy. He grew up poor, and
|
||
often relied on the generosity of others. But eventually he
|
||
was able to support himself and his small family. He was proud
|
||
of the life he had built.</p>
|
||
<p>So Gliftwirp took no pleasure in what came next. Late one
|
||
night when Popplewick was on his way home from the market, the
|
||
assassin slipped a bag over his head and dragged him into a
|
||
dark alley. He cinched the bag tight, cutting off his air.
|
||
There was a brief struggle before Popplewick passed out and
|
||
Gliftwirp lowered him down to the ground. He held him there,
|
||
unconscious and not breathing, until he was gone. In only took
|
||
but a moment. And then Gliftwirp stood up and left.</p>
|
||
<p>Now at the funeral, the mourners leave one by one. Until
|
||
only the widow is left, cradling a small sleeping child to her
|
||
chest. “Oh, Pepo,” she whispers to the headstone. “What can I
|
||
do now?”</p>
|
||
<p>When she leaves, she does not return to the main path. She
|
||
meanders slowly as though in a daze toward the back of the
|
||
graveyard and down the hill. She steps into the wood. A flash
|
||
of red follows her at a distance.</p>
|
||
<p>She kneels on the banks of the forest river and sets the
|
||
child down on wide flat rock. It is awake now and looks up at
|
||
her with solemn eyes. “I am sorry, made-of-me,” she says to
|
||
the child. And that is all the explanation it gets.</p>
|
||
<p>She stands and turns and walks away. The child watches her
|
||
go.</p>
|
||
<p>When she has been gone for some minutes, Gliftwirp steps
|
||
out of the shadows and crouches down beside the child. It
|
||
looks up and reaches for him. “Look at you,” he says to the
|
||
child as he scoops it up. “Who would throw you away? A
|
||
perfectly good baby!” He stands and bounces the child. “A
|
||
sweet little melon rind is what you are. Ha! Very well. Come,
|
||
Rind, we have work to do.”</p>
|
||
<p>The assassin, child in his arms, walks back toward the
|
||
city.</p>
|
||
<p>~</p>
|
||
<p>In the aftermath, Agent 5 is found down by the docks. They
|
||
clearly struggled in death. The assassin blamed him for
|
||
Popplewick’s death and the widow’s weakness.</p>
|
||
<p>Down in the sewers, two tiny mittened hands reach up and
|
||
awkwardly turn the doorknob to Alex’s hideout. The bolt clears
|
||
the latch with a faint click. Two tiny cloth hands struggle
|
||
against the heavy iron door, pushing it slowly open, inch by
|
||
inch. A mechanism clicks inside and there is a whoosh of air
|
||
and then a boom as the bunker violently ignites. The tiny
|
||
figure is incinerated, and blown back into the sewer
|
||
tunnel.</p>
|
||
<p>Gliftwirp steps forward into the light of the blaze and
|
||
crouches down by the tiny figure. He picks it up, a tattered
|
||
and burned bundle of cloth. “Look, Rind,” he says to the small
|
||
child standing at his elbow. “You must always acknowledge and
|
||
be grateful for those who sacrifice for you.” He starts to
|
||
untie and unfold the cloth puppet as he speaks. It unfurls and
|
||
smooths out and stitches itself back together under his touch.
|
||
Even the burn marks fade, and soon Gliftwirp is once again
|
||
holding his red sash.</p>
|
||
<p>“Now, Rind,” he says standing up and taking the child’s
|
||
hand, squinting into the fire. “Let’s see what we can salvage
|
||
here.”</p>
|
||
<p>WHAT DO YOU DO</p>
|
||
<ul>
|
||
<li>The time of the ritual is at hand.</li>
|
||
<li>What final preparations do you make before entering
|
||
Dreamspace?</li>
|
||
</ul>
|
||
]]>
|
||
</description>
|
||
</item>
|
||
<item>
|
||
<title>54</title>
|
||
<author>dozens@tilde.team (dozens)</author>
|
||
<guid isPermaLink="false">54 - Tue, 03 Jan 2023 16:12:08
|
||
-0700</guid>
|
||
<pubDate>Wed, 04 Jan 2023 08:18:44 -0700</pubDate>
|
||
<description>
|
||
<![CDATA[
|
||
<h3 id="00054">00054</h3>
|
||
<blockquote>
|
||
<p>Once back in the Milk Bar, with the airship safely anchored
|
||
to the roof of the building, Alex finds himself amongst the
|
||
old belongings of his former uncle.</p>
|
||
<p><em>sigh</em> “Best get a request to HQ for this airship,
|
||
maybe they’ll let us operate it for a bit, if not I suppose we
|
||
have to impound it..”</p>
|
||
<pre><code><- OP 2817 * LOC MB-A
|
||
-> OP 25120 * LOC ESPER
|
||
|
||
CLEARANCE: INFORMATIONAL
|
||
REQUEST ENCLOSED.
|
||
|
||
REQUESTING PERMISSION TO IMPOUND OR OPERATE.
|
||
ONE CYBERPLASM AIRSHIP "The Rusty Maiden"</code></pre>
|
||
<p>“There’s also the matter of this little hemogoblin..” Alex
|
||
mutters to himself while said hemogoblin happily dances around
|
||
the room, dripping little pools of blood hither and
|
||
tither.</p>
|
||
<pre><code><- OP 2817 * LOC MB-A
|
||
-> OP 41154 * LOC ESPER
|
||
|
||
CLEARANCE: TOP SECRET
|
||
REQUEST ENCLOSED
|
||
PACKET ENCLOSED
|
||
|
||
REQUESTING ANALYSIS
|
||
ONE GDB @gdb-readout.dat
|
||
TWO BLOOD @blood-soaked-handkerchief
|
||
NOTE GDB INDICATES SOME ANOMALY</code></pre>
|
||
<p>“Hey little guy, lets go get an empanade. Inky says they’re
|
||
divine.” Alex says as he scoops up the little goblin and
|
||
gently carries him downstairs.”</p>
|
||
<p>Striding into Enriques kitchen, and availing himself to the
|
||
empanadas, ignoring an indignant Enrique’s protests that these
|
||
were for paying customers until a small bag of coins is tossed
|
||
careless over one shoulder. Alex stride through the kitchen
|
||
and then out and away into the garden to enjoy their pilfered
|
||
treats.</p>
|
||
<p>“I suppose this is more interesting than being on the force
|
||
at times”</p>
|
||
</blockquote>
|
||
<p>~</p>
|
||
<blockquote>
|
||
<p>Inky stepped into the toques’ cabin below deck with a tray
|
||
of turmeric ginger tea and lavender biscuits. After checking
|
||
on Bread’s bandages and offering the toque reclined on the
|
||
berth the last bag of mango croutons — or at least the last
|
||
one for the next two hours — Inky perched on a wooden barrel
|
||
across from where Confidence sat on a creaking old chair next
|
||
to the bunk and spoke. “We’ll be landing in about an hour and
|
||
getting Bread to a medical facility. You can stay with him
|
||
while he heals and rest up.”</p>
|
||
<p>They paused to take a long sip from their cup, as if the
|
||
liquid was being used to summon their next words. “On behalf
|
||
of myself and the party, I apologise for the … disruption, and
|
||
for what had befallen the hotelier. As you may have already
|
||
noticed, we’re a fair distance away from the Peak and will be
|
||
arriving in Vay’Nullar soon. This airship was taken over from
|
||
the cyberplasms in the course of getting the crystal out and
|
||
the injured to a safe location, and her new captain could
|
||
hardly fly it back straight into the pirates’ hands now.</p>
|
||
<p>What we propose is this: you and Bread may take as long as
|
||
you need to recover. We can arrange for lodgings and new posts
|
||
in the city. One of our party runs a Milk Market that could
|
||
certainly use some hired help, and a garden in the back that
|
||
would benefit from more attention. Pay will be double your
|
||
current salary at the hotel. Master Alex may also recruit you
|
||
for other tasks. You don’t need to have an answer just yet —
|
||
think on it for a bit while you rest and let us know.
|
||
Afterwards, if you find that you still wish to return to
|
||
Kelsun Peak, we will pay for travel.”</p>
|
||
<p>Inky winked at Bread conspiratorially. “You may be
|
||
interested to know there is a bakery on the Milk Market’s
|
||
first floor. If you like the look of the place, perhaps we can
|
||
convince the chef to take on an assistant.”</p>
|
||
<p>~</p>
|
||
<p>Tess watched her adviser from her position on one end of
|
||
the plush chaise lounge in her office, who returned her stare
|
||
impassively as they sat in the adjoining armchair to her
|
||
right. The ornate coffee table before them had been laid out
|
||
for tea, but the other cup remained untouched, which was in
|
||
itself unusual. Ink rarely turned down tea when it was
|
||
offered, which likely meant they were preoccupied with
|
||
something they were unwilling to discuss. This had been
|
||
happening more frequently since their plans to intercept the
|
||
Ginnarak Crystals, which was a little concerning, but she knew
|
||
it would be no use to question them directly. The missive she
|
||
had received this time through Piskin’s people was brief,
|
||
almost annoyingly so, but they had returned earlier than
|
||
expected with the articles that production had requested,
|
||
which had fortunately made up for lost time from the previous
|
||
delays.</p>
|
||
<p>With this in mind, she settled on a lighter note as she
|
||
picked up her own teacup. “Salvia passed on the items to the
|
||
production team. Thank you for picking them up from the
|
||
Runesocesius. I would send my regular couriers but they are
|
||
tied up with another event. One of them had to care for their
|
||
sick child and couldn’t leave the city. As usual, time and
|
||
discretion are of the essence.”</p>
|
||
<p>When her adviser only nodded, she continued. “How is he? He
|
||
probably insisted on bringing the manuscripts out for you
|
||
himself. The man is cautious with valuables.”</p>
|
||
<p>“Quite dead but managing, or so I heard.” Ink intoned
|
||
drily.</p>
|
||
<p>Tess caught on immediately. “Didn’t you meet with him? The
|
||
message only mentioned the items had been obtained. Did
|
||
something happen?”</p>
|
||
<p>The imp shrugged. “We met, I delivered the letter and
|
||
collected the items. We didn’t get a chance to talk.”</p>
|
||
<p>The hotel was slowly but steadily attracting visitors
|
||
again, especially after their last play had prominently
|
||
featured the Runesocesius Library as a research partner in the
|
||
programme credits, but Tess didn’t think the hotelier was so
|
||
busy as to entrust this task to one of his underlings. The man
|
||
was proud of the first editions the library had amassed, and
|
||
the notebooks of Lucidieau that the playwright sought as a
|
||
reference were no doubt counted among the treasures, even if
|
||
only an expensive commissioned facsimile was permitted out of
|
||
the library. Something had happened, she was sure, but decided
|
||
not to press further for the moment.</p>
|
||
<p>“And the other matter?” she asked.</p>
|
||
<p>“Someone already knew the crystal was at the hotel and
|
||
retained a crew of cyberplasmic pirates to storm the place.”
|
||
Ink replied flatly. “And yes, your acquaintance is very much
|
||
dead, shot by the crew leader in the scuffle. As the rumour
|
||
rags have it, his ghost is now overseeing the building
|
||
repairs.”</p>
|
||
<p>Tess was about to admonish the imp gently for the tasteless
|
||
jest when there was a knock at the door. At her response, the
|
||
door opened and her secretary entered with a box of pastries
|
||
and two sets of tableware, which she placed on the coffee
|
||
table before leaving and closing the door behind her.</p>
|
||
<p>Noticing Ink’s look of recognition, Tess smiled and
|
||
ventured, “This is the second time is as many months you
|
||
awarded that empanada place a glowing review in <em>The Tiny
|
||
Toaster</em>. I can count the ratings higher than a 10 you’ve
|
||
ever given on one hand — of course I had to try it. Why don’t
|
||
you have some as well?”</p>
|
||
<p>Ink blinked. “I didn’t write the latest review.”</p>
|
||
<p>Tess shot them an accusing mock-glare as she lifted a puffy
|
||
golden brown pastry onto a plate. “It has your inkprints all
|
||
over it.”</p>
|
||
<p>“I don’t know what you mean. Surely I’m allowed to treat a
|
||
colleague to lunch, and they are free to express their
|
||
satisfaction with a meal openly if they wish,” Ink replied
|
||
smoothly.</p>
|
||
<p>Tess rolled her eyes. “There’s a name for that. It’s called
|
||
bribery.”</p>
|
||
<p>Ink smiled faintly. “Just so. However, the selection speaks
|
||
for itself.”</p>
|
||
<p>“Oh, absolutely! These mini ambrose apple empanadas are
|
||
wonderful. In fact,” Tess prodded the open end of the pastry
|
||
with her fork, where a light yellow filling was visible, “they
|
||
remind me a little of the very crispy tortelli
|
||
<em>someone</em> made several years ago just for the opening
|
||
reception of <em>The Two Genteelkin of Virdantha</em>.”</p>
|
||
<p>“Any resemblance is coincidental. The chef is very
|
||
capable.” Ink said evenly.</p>
|
||
<p>Tess sighed and returned her plate to the table. “We’ve
|
||
talked about this before, Ink. You don’t have to hole up in
|
||
some poor scrub’s excuse for a kitchen in a closet. If you
|
||
need more room downstairs then expand it. Just tell Salvia and
|
||
she’ll take care of it.”</p>
|
||
<p>Ink lowered their gaze to the teacups. “I appreciate the
|
||
offer, but the answer is the same. There will be no rest until
|
||
the crystals are secured.”</p>
|
||
</blockquote>
|
||
<p>Some time passes.</p>
|
||
<p>The hemogoblin turns out to be a fine housemate and less of
|
||
a problem than you thought it would be. Be it because its not
|
||
in the excitement of battle onboard a pirate ship, or be it
|
||
because it is maturing slightly, it seems in better control of
|
||
its blood sacs. Barring a few small accidents, it doesn’t make
|
||
much of a mess. It has found and claimed as its own a few
|
||
unused blankets, and has made a little burrow nest in an out
|
||
of the way corner behind the furniture.</p>
|
||
<p>Bread makes a full recovery and in fact is doing better
|
||
than ever before. The blood goblin stays by their side during
|
||
the first hours and days and keeps them pumped full of clean,
|
||
synthetic blood. Afterwards the toque is flushed a healthy
|
||
pink and has new vigor. Enrique takes them under his tutelage.
|
||
And Bread ends up making a fine baker’s apprentice. Dough
|
||
seems to rise more and quicker after he kneads it. “The lad
|
||
has solar hands,” Enrique boasts of his new protegee.</p>
|
||
<p>Confidence becomes enthralled with the semi-sentient
|
||
Wandering Bazaar. The thirteen story building moves with
|
||
glacial speed up and down the streets, vendors and stalls and
|
||
shoppers following in its wake. But then also it will
|
||
disappear in the blink of an eye only to reappear in a totally
|
||
different part of the area known as the Wandering Bazaar
|
||
District. Each floor of the tall, narrow tower is occupied
|
||
entirely by a single shop. But which shop it is seems to vary
|
||
from day to day. One day the seventh level will be occupied by
|
||
Fedik’s Butcher shop. And the next, Lario’s Bakery. It might
|
||
be days or weeks before one can once again buy hotlinks from
|
||
Fedik’s. Where the shops go when they’re not here is one of
|
||
Basmentaria’s great mysteries.</p>
|
||
<p>The toque studies the Bazaar’s movements and are able to
|
||
predict its route with more and more accuracy. They become a
|
||
highly sought out guide. Tourists and visitors trust them to
|
||
take them to the very spot the Bazaar will appear that day.
|
||
Residents appreciate the heads up and not getting trapped in
|
||
their houses when the Bazaar wedges its way into their narrow
|
||
residential streets, blocking their front doors. And owners of
|
||
traditional, less ambulatory shops are able to plan ahead for
|
||
the crowds that will appear on “Bazaar Day”.</p>
|
||
<p>~</p>
|
||
<p>Members of the Retrieval Team who sleep in Milk Market HQ
|
||
start having dreams of the same mysterious figure. Of course
|
||
at first nobody knows their dreams are shared by the others.
|
||
Not until they become more frequent, more regular. By the time
|
||
the figure has visited you every night for nearly a week,
|
||
somebody speaks up and you realize the coincidence.</p>
|
||
<p>The figure is clad in voluminous robes of deep purple.
|
||
Long, straight, blonde hair falls around their shoulders.
|
||
Their soft features are boyish and womanly. They wear a golden
|
||
circlet on their head and a golden eye in the middle of their
|
||
forehead. Their passive, neutral face betrays no emotion the
|
||
entire time.</p>
|
||
<p>The dream is always the same. They reach out to you with
|
||
one hand and turn their palm up. And because of dream logic,
|
||
in the palm of their hand you can hear the jingling of coins,
|
||
mirthful laughter, and hushed stories told around a campfire.
|
||
They curl their fingers into a loose first and the sounds
|
||
stop. They spread their arms wide and in the folds of their
|
||
robes you can see three siblings fighting, squabbling over a
|
||
broken loom.</p>
|
||
<p>Then you’re standing next to them, and the two of you watch
|
||
three friends, Snake, Owl, and Dolphin. Owl tells Snake that
|
||
he is tired of flying and hooting, and doesn’t want to be an
|
||
owl any more, he wants to be flowers. And Snake laughs and
|
||
tells him that he is Owl, and an owl he must remain. And she
|
||
leaves him to go eat rodents and bake in the sun. So Owl tells
|
||
Dolphin that he is tired of flying and hooting, and doesn’t
|
||
want to be an owl any more, he wants to be flowers. Dolphin
|
||
doesn’t want to help Owl, because if he is flowers, they won’t
|
||
be able to be together any longer. But Dolphin finally agrees
|
||
to help even though they don’t want to, because Dolphin loves
|
||
Owl. With all their strength, they create a great waterspout
|
||
that will turn Owl into flowers. But the waterspout is too
|
||
strong, and Dolphin is too weak to control it. It sprays Owl
|
||
but does not turn him into flowers. Owl’s wing is broken and
|
||
he falls to the ground in a heap of feathers. The waterspout
|
||
shakes a great boulder from the earth and traps Snake under
|
||
it. And Dolphin sinks to the bottom of the sea.</p>
|
||
<p>And then you wake up.</p>
|
||
<p>~</p>
|
||
<p>Later you find a letter in the common area of Milk Market
|
||
HQ. It is not addressed to anybody. When you open it up, it
|
||
reads:</p>
|
||
<blockquote>
|
||
<p>Time is running out, Retrieval Team 43. Things are starting
|
||
to draw to a close. We cannot delay our meeting any longer if
|
||
we both are to achieve our goals. We have information that you
|
||
are looking for. Meet us at the Harpoon Club next Selday. We
|
||
will wear the sign.</p>
|
||
</blockquote>
|
||
<p>The letter is signed with a white iris and golden
|
||
apple.</p>
|
||
<p>Anyone in Vay’Nullar would be able to tell you that the
|
||
Harpoon Club is a game room and fine dining club, and one of
|
||
the rotating tenants of the Wandering Bazaar. But Confidence
|
||
would tell you, were you to ask them, that the club won’t be
|
||
there next Selday. (When the Bazaar will appear at East and
|
||
Lowland.) It is in fact not scheduled to appear until a week
|
||
and a half after next Selday, on Third Tensday. (When the
|
||
Bazaar will appear at Cathedral and Pine.)</p>
|
||
<p>WHAT DO YOU DO</p>
|
||
]]>
|
||
</description>
|
||
</item>
|
||
<item>
|
||
<title>55</title>
|
||
<author>dozens@tilde.team (dozens)</author>
|
||
<guid isPermaLink="false">55 - Thu, 05 Jan 2023 08:21:34
|
||
-0700</guid>
|
||
<pubDate>Thu, 05 Jan 2023 08:21:34 -0700</pubDate>
|
||
<description>
|
||
<![CDATA[
|
||
<h3 id="00055">00055</h3>
|
||
<blockquote>
|
||
<p>The nibs had disappeared.</p>
|
||
<p>Inky had spotted the small ceramic and wicker teapot among
|
||
a long row of boxes and bowls at the antique shop on the
|
||
thirteenth floor of the Wandering Bazaar while looking for a
|
||
Near-weightless Verifying Matter enclosure (NVMe) to their
|
||
Handy Duffer Discette as a primary storage. The witch
|
||
shopkeeper, Agate, had helpfully mentioned the teapot could be
|
||
used to steep very acidic or alkaline solutions, as well as
|
||
distil solubles. The box it was subsequently packed in did not
|
||
include instructions on activating the precipitation feature.
|
||
With the shop not returning for another week by Confidence’s
|
||
reckoning, Inky had used the teapot in the meantime to rinse
|
||
off any impurities from an old set of nibs — the very first
|
||
functional set they had made as an apprentice inkling — except
|
||
the nibs were nowhere to be found when they poured out the
|
||
citronella solution and removed the lid. Inky supposed it was
|
||
to be expected — some witches liked to go on about equal
|
||
payment for wishes, as if it were as easy as reading off a
|
||
price tag, and it was difficult to stay irritated at a cute
|
||
teapot for long. Inky wrote it off as a gift for what would
|
||
hopefully thereafter be a cutely functional teapot. The shop
|
||
had a no-refunds policy.</p>
|
||
<p>Then came the dream. At first Inky had attributed them to
|
||
reading the book on the mythology of The Trine that they had
|
||
slipped out of the Runesocesius Library, along with an obscure
|
||
cactus leather-bound manuscript containing first-hand accounts
|
||
of the Artifice Wars. When the dream repeated itself on the
|
||
third night, Inky suspected it had something to do with the
|
||
crystals under the Milk Market’s roof. While not horrifically
|
||
bloody in the way Master Corraidhín’s description of the
|
||
vision he had from the first crystal had been, it was
|
||
haplessly boring when lucid intervention didn’t seem to have
|
||
any effect. It ran on like a low-budget B-Grade play that had
|
||
only three scenes with a few props each. By the fourth night,
|
||
the dream had become worse than a nib-nibbling teapot that
|
||
they stayed up entire nights for the rest of that week while
|
||
they were camping at the Milk Market.</p>
|
||
<p>It was mostly an excuse to drop into the kitchens
|
||
downstairs — which they could now enter on the pretext of
|
||
visiting Bread to observe the apprentice’s progress — in the
|
||
early morning hours and push new tea blends onto its
|
||
unfortunate occupants. Most of the three dozen or so infusions
|
||
had been full of fruits and spices, six of which would go well
|
||
with items on the empanada shop’s current menu. A handful were
|
||
medicinal after procuring a herb illustrated on one
|
||
moth-bitten page snatched on the hotel steps back on the Peak.
|
||
A few others were teas in the loosest sense of the word. These
|
||
were as tasteless and colourless as tap water, only the scent
|
||
offering a faint clue as to their ingredients. They had other
|
||
applications, least of which was in a prank on one empanada
|
||
chef. (Inky left him a box of zephyl tea — another Kelsun Peak
|
||
speciality besides mulled wine — before he could too riled up,
|
||
though.)</p>
|
||
<p>The note left at the Milk Market was the black cherry atop
|
||
the hassle cake. Confidence was fairly sure that the fine
|
||
establishment mentioned in the note wouldn’t appear on the day
|
||
indicated. Couldn’t “Mother” have chosen to meet somewhere a
|
||
little more convenient? So it was that despite the shop having
|
||
a no-refunds policy, or because of it, Inky found themselves
|
||
returning to the antique shop inside the Wandering Bazaar a
|
||
week later looking for another item. “Do you sell flight
|
||
vessels that could transport people to and from specific
|
||
places … such as the Harpoon Club?” they asked the witch.</p>
|
||
</blockquote>
|
||
<p>You and the witch go back and forth a few times before she
|
||
realizes that you want to visit a place where it is when it
|
||
isn’t there.</p>
|
||
<p>“Transdimensional extratemporal colocation?” Agate claps
|
||
her hands in delight. “This is going to be fun! A witchy
|
||
problem wants a witchy solution. That’s what my Auntie
|
||
Tenfingers always said!”</p>
|
||
<p>“Why bother with flying contraptions when you yourself are
|
||
a perfectly adequate vessel? I’m going to prescribe you a
|
||
dream ritual,” she says, scribbling in a notebook. “It’s
|
||
complex. But only because it’s a lot of steps. And the timing
|
||
is kind of particular in a couple places. But if you follow
|
||
the directions, you shouldn’t have any trouble.” She rips the
|
||
page out of the notebook and hands it you.</p>
|
||
<p>“Basically, you’ll enter a host’s dreams, and then delve
|
||
into the Collective Unconsciousness. From there you should be
|
||
able to find the Wandering Bazaar’s pocket dimension. Of
|
||
course you’ll need to find a guide to take you there. You’ll
|
||
have to find one in the Sea of Dreams.”</p>
|
||
<p>“And you’ll need this!” She ducks behind the counter and
|
||
reappears with a smoke-gray box bound with thick black ribbon.
|
||
It’s about as long as her forearm. She unwraps the box and
|
||
opens it and pulls out a thick, round candle. It is an
|
||
unhealthy, sickening translucent yellow. In the base of the
|
||
candle is a large, blackened, withered, and shriveled hand. It
|
||
is within and without the candle. As though it is grasping the
|
||
base of the candle, but also like it has been molded into the
|
||
candle on purpose. As though the hand is imprisoned in the
|
||
wax. You can just make out a hazy small round object in the
|
||
center of the candle through the wax. A large nut or marble.
|
||
The hand looks like it is reaching for it. The candle has been
|
||
burned down a fair bit. The wick is low and trimmed, and the
|
||
edges are black and warped where the fatty wax has melted and
|
||
hardened. You guess there’s only about two-thirds left of the
|
||
candle.</p>
|
||
<p>The witch measures down from the top of the candle with a
|
||
length of string and bores a small hole in its side. She
|
||
wedges a large nail into the hole, leaving half of it jutting
|
||
out. “A crude clock,” she winks at you. “Place the candle on a
|
||
hard metal plate. When it burns down enough for the wax here
|
||
to soften, the nail will fall out and strike the plate and
|
||
wake you up.”</p>
|
||
<p>She pushes it across the counter toward you and frowns.
|
||
“Eh, should be okay,” she shrugs. “But if at any point it
|
||
looks like the base gets soft enough that the hand might be
|
||
able to grasp the eye,” she cautions pointing toward the round
|
||
object in the center of the candle, “smash the thing. As hard
|
||
as you can. Destroy the hand, and run.”</p>
|
||
<p>“The rest of the instructions should be pretty self
|
||
explanatory!” she exclaims, perking up. “Let me know if you
|
||
have any questions!”</p>
|
||
<details>
|
||
<summary>
|
||
Ritual Details
|
||
</summary>
|
||
<figure>
|
||
<img src="https://tilde.town/~dozens/quest/ritual.png"
|
||
alt="ritual outline" />
|
||
<figcaption aria-hidden="true">ritual outline</figcaption>
|
||
</figure>
|
||
<p>Ritual Steps In Brief:</p>
|
||
<ol type="1">
|
||
<li><p>Find a volunteer to be the Dream Host.</p></li>
|
||
<li><p>Link your sanctum to the place where the Bazaar will be
|
||
on the appointed date. (You can’t just do your ceremony out in
|
||
the open in the middle of the street! Find somewhere you can
|
||
safely leave your bodies for a few hours.)</p></li>
|
||
<li><p>Draw a circle of salt.</p></li>
|
||
<li><p>At the appointed time, put the Dream Host in the
|
||
circle. Also the Travelers (you), the Dream Sigil, and the
|
||
Nyxmaer Candle.</p></li>
|
||
<li><p>Once the Host is asleep (Sleep spell not included),
|
||
light the candle and enter the Host’s dream.</p></li>
|
||
<li><p>Turn “away” from the dream, cross the Sea of Dreams to
|
||
the Collective Unconsciousness.</p></li>
|
||
<li><p>Find the Bazaar’s pocket dimension.</p></li>
|
||
</ol>
|
||
</details>
|
||
<blockquote>
|
||
<p>The day the letter arrived Alex was nowhere to be found. It
|
||
was a bit strange, somewhat chilling even, that he’d disappear
|
||
like that. Ever since they had arrived back at the Milk Maid
|
||
he’d been seen skulking about his uncle’s study, or pacing the
|
||
garden out back somewhat agitatedly. Unbeknownst to the party,
|
||
Alex had anticipated the arrival of the letter, HQ had been
|
||
following every lead they could pull in since he began with
|
||
the Ginnarak recovery team. Not that they really had much to
|
||
go off of, but the courier who left the letter wasn’t hard to
|
||
track. That was, until he slipped inside one of the ever
|
||
changing shops right as it was moving along.</p>
|
||
<p>The trail went cold after that. Which meant Alex had to get
|
||
it moving again, or at least the crumpled communique he’d
|
||
received said as much. Things were moving too quickly to think
|
||
too hard on the how, all that was needed was action, something
|
||
drastic to flush things out.</p>
|
||
<p>That’s why Alex finds himself on the east side of the
|
||
market, skulk about the back alley behind The Temporal
|
||
Cup.</p>
|
||
<p>“Gotta get this shit ready, there’s no other options here”
|
||
Alex thought to himself. He loathed this type of work, it was
|
||
messy, abhorrently vile in his mind, but what choice did he
|
||
have? His hands worked deftly at the wires in the small
|
||
package hidden inside the recess of a loose brick. Once
|
||
finished, the little packet came to life, muted lights
|
||
blicking away happily as the brick slid back over it.</p>
|
||
<p>This was the 3rd and final eavesdropping device, all placed
|
||
at the busiest cafes in market, all rigged with self destruct
|
||
mechanisms large enough to level the building if they’re
|
||
found.. The eavesdropping Alex could abide by, but the wanton
|
||
destruction for the sake of security was painful to
|
||
swallow.</p>
|
||
<p>But once again, it wasn’t much like Alex had a say in the
|
||
matter. The first sign of objection, an inclination that he’d
|
||
refuse orders, and they’d have an assassin on him before he
|
||
could leave the alley. And if he took it out, they’d send
|
||
double, there’d be no rest.</p>
|
||
<p>— Later that day</p>
|
||
<p>Alex watched twtxt feeds scroll through from his monitoring
|
||
devices. Most of it unimportant gossip. So and so haves an
|
||
affair, what’s for lunch, where to find good empanadas in the
|
||
market, so on and so forth. An endless stream on the pulse of
|
||
the market.</p>
|
||
<p>It was errant curiosity to watch these, the Magic Lichen in
|
||
the monitoring system was trained to hunt for any hint of what
|
||
the courier was up to, any twinge from Blavin and his ilk.
|
||
It’d send alerts straight to him as soon as something came up,
|
||
but it was interesting to see the pulse of the city trail by.
|
||
And what else could he do? It was too dangerous to go back to
|
||
the Milk Maid, any hint he was there could blow his cover.
|
||
Best to lay low for the time being, let the scrapers scrape
|
||
and the agents comb the streets until they get a bead on their
|
||
target.</p>
|
||
</blockquote>
|
||
<p>Milk Market HQ ought to be quiet. Alex has been
|
||
conspicuously absent. Missing in action. Inky seems to be out
|
||
making rounds delivering tea, or spending more time than usual
|
||
at the empenadaria. So Milk Market HQ ought to be quiet.</p>
|
||
<p>Instead, a certain young hemogoblin and a certain yellow
|
||
duck (both of whom have yet to be named, by the way) are
|
||
squealing as they rampage through the rooms on the top floor
|
||
of the building, upsetting the furniture in their wake and in
|
||
general making a huge mess.</p>
|
||
<p>It took some coaxing on the hemogoblin’s part. The duck was
|
||
determinedly uninterested in anything besides a soak in its
|
||
tub and a nap on its cushion. And it did a good job of
|
||
ignoring the persistent, pestering goblin for most of the
|
||
afternoon. But jumping into a wooden tub full of blood cracked
|
||
the foul’s disinterested facade. It gave furious chase to the
|
||
goblin until the heat of the moment cooled down. At which
|
||
point the two of them simply enjoyed the thrill of chasing
|
||
each other through the apartments.</p>
|
||
<p>Confidence is actually the first one to stumble across the
|
||
carnage. They were just popping by to drop off some new
|
||
pamphlets, but froze in the doorway when they saw the suite in
|
||
disarray and the walls plastered with blood and feathers.
|
||
“What the toque…” And then they quietly closed the door and
|
||
left without going in after all.</p>
|
||
<p>~</p>
|
||
<p>Gliftwirp browses the stalls trailing behind the Wandering
|
||
Bazaar. He is bare chested save for a sleeveless vest. He
|
||
wears long, baggy, striped trousers bunched at the ankle, and
|
||
a bright red sash tied loosely around his waist. He grins a
|
||
wide, gap-toothed grin as he thumps a melon.</p>
|
||
<p>“Look at the size of this melon! And perfectly ripe!” he
|
||
beams at the stall vendor. “You’ll be here next week? With
|
||
more like this?”</p>
|
||
<p>Very few people would be able to tell Gliftwirp’s
|
||
profession from his attire. For those who can, one look at his
|
||
red sash would immediately cause them to give him a wide
|
||
berth. Because Gliftwirp is a warpwefter. A master assassin
|
||
trained in the ancient art of sarong-fu. That is, the deadly
|
||
application of soft and flexible weapons. Whips, chains,
|
||
garrotes, nunchucks. And most famously—and most
|
||
effectively—sashes, sarongs, scarves, and the like. The saying
|
||
goes that a clothed warpwefter is never unarmed. Nor even is a
|
||
nude one if they can get their hands on <em>your</em> clothes.
|
||
And a warpwefter can sneak their weapons into the most secure
|
||
of locations.</p>
|
||
<p>“I am a visitor here, and don’t know my way around,” he
|
||
keeps up the small-talk with the vendor, having paid for the
|
||
melon. “Do you know if there is a building around here called
|
||
‘Milk Market?’ I’m supposed to meet someone there. No, they’re
|
||
not expecting me. It’s going to be a surprise!”</p>
|
||
<p>He grins his wide toothy grin.</p>
|
||
<p>~</p>
|
||
<p>The twtxt feed from the listening devices is dull and
|
||
quiet. The monitoring software is designed to only deliver
|
||
messages containing certain buzzwords. And those messages are
|
||
few and far between.</p>
|
||
<p>You decide to tap into the unfiltered stream and let the
|
||
endless waves of blather wash over you. It’s inane. Idle
|
||
gossip and mindless chitter-chatter.</p>
|
||
<p>After a day or two of this, you notice yourself getting
|
||
uncharacteristically agitated. You squint at the lines of
|
||
messages coming in and notice a few transposed characters in
|
||
some of them, forming new nonsensical words. A couple messages
|
||
are missing some whitespace, squishing words together in
|
||
maddening run-ons. Glitchy. There’s no reason the listening
|
||
devices should be returning errors like this.</p>
|
||
<p>Later still, the feeds have gotten worse. Some words seem
|
||
to be written backwards. Entire messages are garbled word
|
||
soup, devoid of any meaning or sense whatsoever. Some of the
|
||
timestamps are invalid datetimes. But you prefer them to the
|
||
ones that are valid, but which are stamped years ago. And you
|
||
far prefer them to the ones that are stamped far in the
|
||
future.</p>
|
||
<p>The anomalies are overall infrequent. On their own, they
|
||
don’t amount to much. And when you show them, nobody at HQ
|
||
gives you with much more than a slightly patronizing,
|
||
indulgent shrug. But the glitches shouldn’t be happening at
|
||
all, is the thing. And when you compile them all together, you
|
||
start to notice things. Patterns insinuating themselves,
|
||
maddeningly just short of reason or meaning. Like a song stuck
|
||
in your head when you can’t remember the lyrics or the melody.
|
||
But there’s something there nonetheless. The promise of
|
||
something, at least. Something bigger. A wide tapestry of
|
||
links and connections, wanting to be known.</p>
|
||
<p>There are names. Ellis, the lady in red who sits at the
|
||
center of a tangled web. Ousia, a sea of endless knowledge. A
|
||
sea of magic. The 215R Dude, a denizen of the other side who
|
||
can deliver you to its shores. Other strange beings who lurk
|
||
just out of sight, just beyond the veil of perception. The
|
||
veil that you are now beginning to pierce with the snippets
|
||
and snatches of information you pluck from your feeds.</p>
|
||
<p>You start to see signs of the veil elsewhere. Of the
|
||
conspiracy. Whatever. You can’t decide what to call it. Street
|
||
graffiti outside of a red spider spinning a red web. Phrases
|
||
like “215R” show up in random articles in the paper. As though
|
||
the secret world is trying to cross over. Or to draw you into
|
||
it.</p>
|
||
<p>WHAT DO YOU DO</p>
|
||
]]>
|
||
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|
||
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|
||
</channel>
|
||
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|