826 lines
50 KiB
XML
826 lines
50 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>39</title>
|
||
<author>dozens@tilde.team (dozens)</author>
|
||
<guid isPermaLink="false">39 - Sat, 19 Nov 2022 07:38:02
|
||
-0700</guid>
|
||
<pubDate>Fri, 25 Nov 2022 07:11:12 -0700</pubDate>
|
||
<description>
|
||
<![CDATA[
|
||
<h3 id="00039">00039</h3>
|
||
<blockquote>
|
||
<p>Alex silently observes the party and this foolish hobbit,
|
||
before him three untouched drinks have accumulated. He’s a
|
||
little less enthusiatic about taking drink from strangers, too
|
||
much risk in that. As Blavin describes this crystal, whatever
|
||
it may be, he catches a glimpse of the pinkish purplish
|
||
armband on the party across from them. They don’t look out of
|
||
place given the patrons at the tavern, but he’s certain they
|
||
were listening in on the animated conversation of the hobbit.
|
||
It could be nothing, or it coule be connected to Corraidhin,
|
||
best to put a bug on them Alex thinks.</p>
|
||
<p>Silently beneath the table and out of site Alex prepares a
|
||
bug and sets it off to follow the person with the armband.
|
||
Once the bug catches up to the part it’s programmed to perform
|
||
a tcpdump and capture information streaming around it, and
|
||
then report back to Alex once full. By no means a perfect
|
||
method of spying, but it’s low energy and can be maintained
|
||
from great distances without taxing Alex’s energy.</p>
|
||
<p>As Blavin comes back to the group from his grandoise space
|
||
commentary Alex begins to question him.</p>
|
||
<p>Enough of your theatrics hobbit. Tell me about the mark,
|
||
you’ve obviously tipped off the entire tavern as to the
|
||
whereabouts of whatever it is you’re looking for, so give us
|
||
an edge, something those evesdroppers a table over don’t have.
|
||
And cut this tripe about your benefactor, who is he, and what
|
||
does he want with this magical baubbles.</p>
|
||
<p>As Alex finishes his questions he sits quietly for a moment
|
||
staring down Blavin.</p>
|
||
<p>During this outburts, as all eyes turn to Blavin for his
|
||
response, Alex casts yet another bug. This one sneaks onto the
|
||
personage of Blavin himself. Programmed the same way.</p>
|
||
<p>We’ll get information from someone, subtle, or not if
|
||
needed.</p>
|
||
</blockquote>
|
||
<p>~</p>
|
||
<blockquote>
|
||
<p>Inky watches with faint amusement as a magical device,
|
||
likely a probe, found its way onto their mission handler.</p>
|
||
<p>Inky might have missed the slight movement under the table
|
||
if they weren’t waiting for it, having received word of the
|
||
younger wizard’s penchant for pre-emptive offence magic. As it
|
||
were, the offices and surrounding premises were routinely
|
||
swept for similar devices, a more recent example of which had
|
||
been placed in plain sight by an overzealous tabloid writer
|
||
hoping to pick up an exclusive reveal. The quality of the
|
||
contraption, which had immediately fallen apart when detached
|
||
from its gum adhesive on the back of a glass vase, had been
|
||
almost insulting.</p>
|
||
<p>It seems Blackfoot hadn’t learned his lesson after all, and
|
||
if Alex was keen to give him a reminder, Inky had no
|
||
objection. As Blavin takes another swig from his sixth drink
|
||
of the evening, the waitress smiling at him with a wink as she
|
||
set down their glasses before skating away to take another
|
||
order (Inky made sure tip her liberally for the attentive
|
||
service), Inky let their line of sight flicker to a
|
||
fuchsia-coloured band on a departing customer’s arm.</p>
|
||
<p>Inky smiles internally at the sight — they can almost hear
|
||
Beaker’s crow of dismay. The poor kingfisher had been under
|
||
increased pressure of late from other scientific associations
|
||
and prominent speakers to exclude BAND from presenting at one
|
||
of the largest annual ornithology conferences of the year on
|
||
accusations of spreading misinformation and junk science in
|
||
addition to attempting to erase the history of native bird
|
||
tribes. There had been a huge row, which ended with the
|
||
BANDits storming off, yelling about “the proof being crystal
|
||
clear” and that they will bring “ancient arcane evidence”. The
|
||
Alcedinian researcher had lamented the halcyon days when
|
||
conferences were avenues for scientific exchange, not
|
||
twittering soapboxes. Not that anyone who had ever tried to
|
||
arrange any gathering of birds of a feather really thought
|
||
things simply glided along smoothly before. However, the
|
||
advent of dedicated carrier pigeon networks had made it easier
|
||
to relay research to and from smaller communities, opening the
|
||
pathways for their participation, including a few somewhat
|
||
Controversial fringe groups like BAND.</p>
|
||
</blockquote>
|
||
<p>Alex attempts to shake down the hobbit, who titters merrily
|
||
at his demands.</p>
|
||
<p>“You know nearly everything I do, dear! Your <em>mark</em>
|
||
as you put it,” Blaven theatrically drops his voice as he
|
||
looks around for eavesdroppers, “would be the zephynos of
|
||
Kelsun Peak should you choose to go that route.</p>
|
||
<p>“If you choose to go to the moon, you’ll have a harder go
|
||
of it,” he frowns. He flips the map over and draws four
|
||
circles in a straight line. They have the proportions of a
|
||
grapefruit, an orange, a tangerine, and an orange. He jabs a
|
||
finger at the grapefruit. “This is us, here, earth.” He points
|
||
at the two oranges and the tangerine. “And these are our
|
||
planet’s moons.” He points to them in order. “Selene, the
|
||
Green Lady. Moonmoon. And Lua, the Red Lady. Recently, as you
|
||
well know, we had a super eclipse in which these four bodies
|
||
and the sun all lined up in perfect alignment. The combined
|
||
magnetic pull of the spheres allowed a rare commingling of the
|
||
ionic spheres, and our instruments were able to detect the
|
||
crystal somewhere out there in space. If I were to bet on it,
|
||
I would put my money on Lua.” He points to the farthest moon,
|
||
the Red Lady, with its own tiny satellite, Moonmoon. He looks
|
||
up at you and explains, “She’s far enough away that her
|
||
ionosphere would never make contact with ours except for in
|
||
this particular, rare circumstance. That’s why the crystal has
|
||
escaped our detection for so long.”</p>
|
||
<p>“As for the Benefactor!” He brightens up. “He’s a
|
||
magnificent fellow as you well know! A renowned collector. His
|
||
wishes are to preserve the crystals and protect them (and us!)
|
||
from their misuse or mishandling! He has a hot tub!” he winks
|
||
at you. “Speaking of crystals,” he adds as an afterthought,
|
||
taking another sip of his drink, “why don’t you hand that
|
||
crystal over to me and I’ll deliver it to the Benefactor. That
|
||
is what he’s paying you for after all!”</p>
|
||
<!--
|
||
Meta: Alex rolls Investigation 2 on the Ornithologer Trio
|
||
4, 5 = Mixed Success
|
||
//-->
|
||
<p>The Ornithologer’s Trio leaves Lucy’s Basement quite
|
||
oblivious to their bug. The Ornithologer turns out to be the
|
||
orator of their little group, ranting about the conspiracy,
|
||
the attempted cover up, about how Big Science wants to
|
||
convince you that birds are dinosaurs but they’re just pulling
|
||
the wool over your eyes. The truth is right there in the
|
||
fossil record for crying out loud! All you have to do is look
|
||
for yourself. Nobody these days wants to <em>think</em> is the
|
||
problem. They just get their information from the authorities
|
||
and take it as gospel, but they don’t see that the authorities
|
||
have adopted a narrative that suits their own ends.</p>
|
||
<p>At which point the groll interjects and asks what is the
|
||
end goal of Big Science, and how exactly does convincing the
|
||
proletariat that birds are dinosaurs help achieve it?</p>
|
||
<p>The BANDit scowls and answers, Look, you just don’t get it,
|
||
okay!</p>
|
||
<p>The three split up and go their separate ways and disappear
|
||
into the night.</p>
|
||
<p>You learn the following, one of which is true, one of which
|
||
is false, and one of which is meaningless.</p>
|
||
<ol type="1">
|
||
<li><p>BAND plans to intercept the CRYSTAL of VOID and use it
|
||
to petition the Insatiable Wyrm for definitive proof that
|
||
Birds Are Not Dinosaurs. In this way they shall shame their
|
||
fellow paleornithologists and earn their rightful place at the
|
||
table of Big Science, which they have spent decades
|
||
undermining.</p></li>
|
||
<li><p>The Gnu Zealots intend to reverse engineer the power of
|
||
the crystals, create a newborn godling, and then release their
|
||
findings, thus laying the foundation of the world’s first
|
||
truly open source religion</p></li>
|
||
<li><p>The trio seeks the crystals not at all, but in fact
|
||
search for Sitopotnia, creator and progenitor of the entire
|
||
amaizeon race—including corbits, aurs, centaurs, and
|
||
others—and the only mortal in the history of Basmentaria to
|
||
successfully take the mantle of creation from the
|
||
overgods.</p></li>
|
||
</ol>
|
||
<!--
|
||
Meta: Alex rolls Investigation 2 on Blaven
|
||
1, 3 = Things go poorly, gain 1 xp
|
||
//-->
|
||
<p>Meanwhile, Blaven slips out into the early, early morning
|
||
carrying his own bug. He whistles tunelessly to himself as he
|
||
sails down the street with a wide and veering but surprisingly
|
||
steady gait.</p>
|
||
<p>Once he gets a few blocks away, his gait narrows and his
|
||
step becomes more lively, a bit jaunty. He stands upright and
|
||
ceases whistling. All signs of drunkenness disappear as he
|
||
tugs on his sleeves and straightens his vest, and runs a hand
|
||
through his hair.</p>
|
||
<p>He meets a goblin catcher in the street going the other
|
||
way, wearily making his way home after a long night’s work. He
|
||
wears a tiny goblin in a glass jar around his neck, as is the
|
||
signifier of his trade. And he carries over his shoulder a
|
||
large cloth sack, the contents of which writhe and kick. Looks
|
||
like it was a productive night for our goblin catcher! Blaven
|
||
gives him a little bow and a salute, laughs, and pats him on
|
||
the back in passing, deftly transferring the bug. “Good night
|
||
for it then ey?” he calls cheerily. The goblin catcher smiles
|
||
politely, mumbles a nicety, and carries on.</p>
|
||
<p>Later, hidden safely away from spying eyes and listening
|
||
ears, Blaven sits at his desk, putting the final flourishes on
|
||
a missive. He sits back and re-reads it to himself, lips
|
||
moving silently. He nods and smiles, satisfied, and reaches
|
||
for a stamp to sign the letter. He presses it into a dark red
|
||
ink pad and then onto the parchment, leaving the image of an
|
||
apple and iris. He sands the paper, carefully folds it, and
|
||
places it in an envelope.</p>
|
||
<p>WHAT DO YOU DO</p>
|
||
<p>Note: Feel free to back up and play out some more
|
||
conversation at Lucy’s before Blavin leaves if you want
|
||
to.</p>
|
||
<p>Options on the table:</p>
|
||
<ul>
|
||
<li>To the mountains!</li>
|
||
<li>To the moon!</li>
|
||
<li>Something else!</li>
|
||
</ul>
|
||
<p><a
|
||
href="https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-11/msg00103.html">www</a></p>
|
||
]]>
|
||
</description>
|
||
</item>
|
||
<item>
|
||
<title>40</title>
|
||
<author>dozens@tilde.team (dozens)</author>
|
||
<guid isPermaLink="false">40 - Sun, 27 Nov 2022 01:30:42
|
||
-0700</guid>
|
||
<pubDate>Wed, 14 Dec 2022 05:41:15 -0700</pubDate>
|
||
<description>
|
||
<![CDATA[
|
||
<h3 id="00040">00040</h3>
|
||
<blockquote>
|
||
<p>As Blavin finished his afterthought about handing over the
|
||
crystal, a yelp was the only warning they heard before a young
|
||
waiter was suddenly half-sprawled over the hobbit, a tray of
|
||
ginger beers toppled from his hand and the mugs’ contents
|
||
splashed onto the hobbit’s front, though fortunately some of
|
||
it ended up in a large puddle on the ground rather than on
|
||
Blavin’s person. The waiter had tripped over a bag on the
|
||
floor on his way to the table two over from theirs and was
|
||
scrambling to his feet.</p>
|
||
<p>“By Nullar’s nuts, I— OH SH——!! S-s-sorry, sir! Hold on,
|
||
l-lemme get— uh—” the waiter looked around frantically. The
|
||
waitress who had brought their drinks rushed over with some
|
||
clean dry towels, a few of which she handed to the other
|
||
waiter, and they both proceeded to wipe and dab at Blavin’s
|
||
damp clothes amid the hapless waiter’s babbled apologies.
|
||
Under the cover of the towels, the waitress patted down the
|
||
hobbit’s vest and replaced the sheaf of papers she had
|
||
covertly lifted from one of the vest pockets earlier with a
|
||
beguiling smile and wink. Once the beer on the floor had been
|
||
cleaned up (the despondent young waiter had offered to pay for
|
||
Blavin’s next two rounds of drinks) and the waiters had moved
|
||
on to serve other customers, Inky spoke.</p>
|
||
<p>“You don’t mind that we prefer to deliver it to the
|
||
Benefactor personally, of course,” Inky piped cheerily,
|
||
referring to the crystal. “The late wizard thought it was
|
||
prudent to cover our bases since you’re a new, untested case
|
||
manager after all. Besides, a little delayed gratification
|
||
never hurt anybody, did it?” Inky smiled and raised their
|
||
drink. “Another toast in tribute to Master Corraidhín! May his
|
||
courage and buoyant spirit guide us on our next mission!”</p>
|
||
<p>~</p>
|
||
<p>When Inky stepped out of the tavern and was a few paces
|
||
away, someone clattered through the door and called out, “Hey!
|
||
You forgot your takeout!”</p>
|
||
<p>Inky turned in the direction of the voice. It was the
|
||
waitress who had served their table earlier. She waved a brown
|
||
paper bag in one hand. Inky gave her an embarrassed smile and
|
||
said, “Thanks.” As the bag changed hands, the waitress mouthed
|
||
soundlessly, <em>We’ll report any more.</em> She went back
|
||
inside, and Inky strolled off into the cool night air with the
|
||
bag securely tucked away next to a tea pouch and a more
|
||
pressing question: what blend would go best with fried
|
||
tofurkey balls?</p>
|
||
<p>~</p>
|
||
<p><em>(Meanwhile)</em></p>
|
||
<p>“The BANDit and his associates had gone to the tavern.” His
|
||
assistant looked up from the scrap of paper held under a
|
||
claw.</p>
|
||
<p>Beaker heaved a sigh and rubbed the tips of one wing
|
||
against his forehead. Surely he had better things to do than
|
||
play Eye Spy over a bunch of crackpots, such as peer reviewing
|
||
the latest draft of a paper on the development of Cerylidian
|
||
hunting techniques for an upcoming issue of <em>The
|
||
Ichnition</em>. But Cio seemed to think something may come of
|
||
it and unfortunately, she was usually right about
|
||
troublemakers.</p>
|
||
<p>“Tell them to continue tailing from a distance,” he replied
|
||
with a distracted wave, and his assistant left the room.</p>
|
||
<p>Anyway, if he had the spare time, he could look at more
|
||
interesting things, like the data he had collected surrounding
|
||
the disappearance of the time anomaly that had popped up a few
|
||
weeks ago. It had happened gradually, and he still wasn’t
|
||
entirely sure what had caused this particular incident, but
|
||
the signals picked up by his instruments had later faded, just
|
||
like other ones before it. Still, it was comparatively larger
|
||
than previous ones, and seemed to have taken slightly longer
|
||
to dissipate, which meant more data points.</p>
|
||
<p>He stole another glance at his Dat repositories before
|
||
sighing again, swivelling his chair and attention back to the
|
||
manuscript before him. Work first … then more work.</p>
|
||
</blockquote>
|
||
<p>~</p>
|
||
<blockquote>
|
||
<p>The party dispersed after the discussion with Blavin.
|
||
Nobody had wanted to relinquish the crystal to him, personally
|
||
Alex felt that was prudent, though he still wasn’t sure what
|
||
the point of it all was. The foolish hobbit had blathered on
|
||
and on about their “mark” tactfully ignoring the real
|
||
questions. And then the bug, damn it, the bug that chittered
|
||
on about absolutely nothing for hours. It didn’t take Alex too
|
||
long to figure out why, but he clung to the transmission until
|
||
it died out hoping he’d be mistaken.</p>
|
||
<p>So there he sat, in the attic of his once Uncle, staring
|
||
bleakly into a cup of dark black coffee. The desk strewn with
|
||
hastily scratched notes pulled from the bugs feeds. At least
|
||
the one that had tracked that nosey group had proved somewhat
|
||
helpful. Turns out this little group has less friends than a
|
||
drunk who’s run up their tab.</p>
|
||
<p>Still, there’s no point to share any of this information.
|
||
It’s too loose, not definitive enough to action with the
|
||
group.</p>
|
||
<p>Alex begins to pen a message to an fellow operative, in
|
||
hopes that HQ will pick it up and assign someone to the
|
||
task.</p>
|
||
<pre><code><- OP 2817 * LOC MB-A
|
||
-> OP 25120 * LOC ESPER
|
||
|
||
CLEARANCE: SECRET
|
||
PACKET ENCLOSED. YOUR EYES ONLY.
|
||
|
||
REQUESTING DETAIL ON BLAVIN
|
||
EMPLOY OF "THE BENEFACTOR"
|
||
PERCEPTIVE, AWARE OF BUGS.
|
||
DO NOT CONTACT, DO NOT DISRUPT
|
||
EXTREME CAUTION IMPERATIVE.</code></pre>
|
||
<p>Once penned Alex encrypts it with GPG and sends it along.
|
||
These channels have worked well for him in the past. If Blavin
|
||
wants to play games, then games we shall have.</p>
|
||
<p>“I hate to do this” Alex mumbles to himself. “Normally I’d
|
||
trail him myself, but I don’t think I have much say in the
|
||
matter.” As it stands the group is dead set on gathering more
|
||
of these cyrstals, regardless of what the danger may be, and
|
||
if Alex wants to find his Uncle, they’re his best bet in doing
|
||
so. Blavin doesn’t even matter outside of that. But if he can
|
||
help the group reach their end faster, or force the
|
||
information out of Blavin, perhaps it can come sooner..</p>
|
||
<p>Alex lets out another sigh and glances wistfully around the
|
||
gloomy attic room. It looked just like he remembered his
|
||
Uncle’s office looking like at the College of Sysorcerery when
|
||
he had taught there. He always was so particular. Pushing his
|
||
chair away and grabbing his coffee he wanders to the bookshelf
|
||
where a large steamer chest sits beside it. The bookshelf is
|
||
covered in manuscripts, “Practical Common Lisp”, “The C
|
||
Programming Language Vol 2”, “RHEL 5 Systems Administration”,
|
||
each one arcane and well worn. And the amount of volumes,
|
||
sometimes it’s a wonder Corraidhin had time to do anything
|
||
other than read.</p>
|
||
<p>“Maybe if I had been a little more studious I’d know how to
|
||
help you..” as he pulls “A Guide to Backups and All Things
|
||
Necessary” off of the shelf a knife falls out of the book, and
|
||
clatters onto the floor glaring malevolently up at Alex.</p>
|
||
</blockquote>
|
||
<p>Your gondola lift finally rises above the thick layer of
|
||
clouds. The sudden flash of clear blue sky is a revelation
|
||
after ascending for nearly 60 minutes through clouds so thick
|
||
you couldn’t see through the foggy windows more than three
|
||
feet. Above you towers rocky, imposing Kelsun Peak. You can
|
||
just see a tiny portion of the hotel roof through a cleft in
|
||
the rocks. Below you, a frozen turbulent ocean of clouds
|
||
dotted with twisting leaning spires and spiraling branching
|
||
towers, all made out of solid cloudstuff. Handiwork of the
|
||
whimsical and industrious zephynos.</p>
|
||
<p>You spot two or three of them now, leaping and diving
|
||
playfully through the clouds like dolphins, spinning the
|
||
clouds like yarn, and packing them into solid constructs.
|
||
Their current project resembles a garden of outlandish,
|
||
distorted tubas, french horns, and trombones.</p>
|
||
<p>The small cloud dragons are about 6 - 8 feet long including
|
||
their thick tails. They have wide faces with round lidless
|
||
eyes, and always seem to be smiling. Their heads are topped
|
||
with multiple pairs of filamented stalks. They have six short,
|
||
stubby arms with long thin fingers that they use to knead and
|
||
pull clouds into solid shapes.</p>
|
||
<p>They build ceaselessly and mostly for the sake of building:
|
||
they have no apparent need for the structures themselves,
|
||
living as they do floating among the clouds. On occasion they
|
||
have been entreated to build on behalf of others. And the rare
|
||
floating palace or city can still be found drifting around
|
||
Basmentaria as a result. The great city of Vay’Neddas—tethered
|
||
to the ground by great chains to Primora in the north and
|
||
Agendell in the south—is one of their greatest enduring
|
||
works.</p>
|
||
<p>You approach the gondola station at the base of Kelsun
|
||
Peak, and exit your cable car as it slowly rounds the
|
||
bullwheel. There are two toques—presumably meant to be
|
||
operating the lifts—standing off to the side, ignoring their
|
||
responsibilities, complaining loudly to nobody and everybody
|
||
about being forced to work long hours and being unfairly
|
||
compensated. The tips of their soft, conical heads slump
|
||
forward, calling to mind revolutionaries, or smurfs.</p>
|
||
<p>It is wicked cold as you step out onto the platform and the
|
||
wind nips and bites at you relentlessly.</p>
|
||
<p>At the edge of the platform, foggy white steps made of firm
|
||
cloudstuff climb up around the side of the mountain peak to
|
||
the Palace Runesocesius. Once the conspicuously extravagant
|
||
residence of one of Basmentaria’s most powerful politicians,
|
||
it has since—after its owner fell from public favor and was
|
||
routed out—been gutted and transformed into a luxury hotel of
|
||
equally conspicuous extravagance. It continues to be one of
|
||
the highest inhabitable places on Basmentaria.</p>
|
||
<p>Two small toques at the base of the steps rush forward to
|
||
meet you—the floppy tips of their coneheads waggling side to
|
||
side in their exuberance—and introduce themselves as
|
||
Confidence and Bread, your guides. They have been instructed
|
||
to guide you up to Runesocesius where you will take posession
|
||
of the Ginnarak Crystal.</p>
|
||
<p>WHAT DO YOU DO</p>
|
||
<p><a
|
||
href="https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-12/msg00186.html">www</a></p>
|
||
]]>
|
||
</description>
|
||
</item>
|
||
<item>
|
||
<title>38</title>
|
||
<author>dozens@tilde.team (dozens)</author>
|
||
<guid isPermaLink="false">38 - Mon, 14 Nov 2022 18:30:25
|
||
-0700</guid>
|
||
<pubDate>Mon, 14 Nov 2022 18:30:35 -0700</pubDate>
|
||
<description>
|
||
<![CDATA[
|
||
<h3 id="00038">00038</h3>
|
||
<blockquote>
|
||
<p>The mission, party-wise, had been an abject failure.</p>
|
||
<p>They had found the crystal, and Master Corraidhín had
|
||
vanished. Inky wasn’t sure which was worse — the appalling
|
||
lack of water-resistant fireworks surrounding the
|
||
disappearance, or the bears’ ceaseless waterworks in grief
|
||
over their ghostly counterparts. Said bears plus a giant manta
|
||
ray were eventually left with the remains of Inky’s two snack
|
||
stashes. (The third was back on the <em>Diamond Howler</em>.)
|
||
The crystal was currently securely hidden away inside the Milk
|
||
Market, which was for the best. Inky was not about to drag
|
||
around an inedible melon that could potentially level entire
|
||
cities, if the wizard’s hints about its power were true. The
|
||
crystal-retrieval missions were a cover anyway — Inky had
|
||
gotten what they were looking for. The equipment and
|
||
provisions sponsored by the Benefactor were a handy bonus
|
||
though.</p>
|
||
<p>Inside the tent, Inky adds the finishing flourishes to a
|
||
package and places it to one side, next to two others of a
|
||
similar size and a thin envelope already piled inside a padded
|
||
sack on the ground. The client should be pleased. It had taken
|
||
longer, but the result had been worth the additional hassle.
|
||
The envelope, on the other hand … who knew what had become of
|
||
the previous one, sent in an impulsive fit of post-dive haze
|
||
once the ship had docked at the port town. Donning a grey
|
||
fedora, a worn light brown jacket, a flask kettle and a wooden
|
||
box with carrying straps, Inky the “Tiny” tea seller leisurely
|
||
sets off for the post office, sack in hand.</p>
|
||
<p>It was still a bit strange — if less shocking than the
|
||
first time it happened — to speak in rabbiton with the
|
||
postmistress at the counter, although Inky couldn’t actually
|
||
detect any significant differences from the common tongue
|
||
besides occasionally being reminded they shouldn’t be able to
|
||
understand the sounds at all. Rabbiton or rabbitoff, hare mail
|
||
couriers are among the fastest across Basmentaria and will
|
||
ensure any parcels and letters arrive at their recipients in a
|
||
timely manner. Due to their broad network and high delivery
|
||
confidence, letters without return addresses were no issue;
|
||
they can deliver with a valid recipient address, which they
|
||
are able to verify from an extensive series of registries and
|
||
course codes before taking the item. So it was that one such
|
||
envelope containing yet another somewhat unusual recipe was
|
||
promptly delivered to the Milk Market’s ground floor on a
|
||
blustery Boltday afternoon.</p>
|
||
<p>Postage done, Inky wanders through one of the city’s
|
||
seedier districts, peddling cups of hot tea along the way.
|
||
This had become a daily routine for a little over a month
|
||
since the Sugrin Sea mission (longer and more sporadically
|
||
before that whenever the imp was in the city), including a
|
||
spontaneous fifteen-minute “Tiny Teatime” held in open areas
|
||
such as small parks, or occasionally in a back alley between
|
||
several crowded residences. The tea happening had initially
|
||
been a whimsical response to <em>Teatime with Tanokuma</em>
|
||
and still regularly attracted children when iced drinks were
|
||
served during the summertime.</p>
|
||
<p>Rows of slightly crooked houses sandwiched among acacia
|
||
trees line a narrow, winding lane. Inky passes the elderly
|
||
playing tabula surrounded by a small group of onlookers,
|
||
people chewing on sweet lemongrass or peeling vegetables,
|
||
hanging up laundry on colourful lines made of scrap rags,
|
||
children laughing and chasing soapy bubbles with wands
|
||
dripping from laundry water, and all sorts of activity that
|
||
made houses into homes. Many of them were frank about not
|
||
having any spare coins for extras like speciality teas brewed
|
||
“just like them shops”, but gladly accepted a steaming bamboo
|
||
cup upon realising they needn’t pay, if sometimes a little
|
||
suspiciously at first. Instead of coin, they held a rich font
|
||
of stories, local legends, folk remedies, cooking methods,
|
||
insider tip-offs and rumours, which they were often eager to
|
||
impart to an attentive audience.</p>
|
||
<p>Some of the passer-by were always in a hurry, downing the
|
||
tea as though it were a shot of hard liquor before retrieving
|
||
a handful of loose coins from a pocket or sock. When Inky
|
||
smiled and told them there was no charge, most would return a
|
||
puzzled look or uncertain smile, or roll their eyes, and drop
|
||
a copper coin into a slot on the lid of the box anyway. A few
|
||
had promptly walked off wordlessly with snickering faces, as
|
||
though they had gotten away with something clever. Regardless,
|
||
it was one of the best ways to see and observe a bustling
|
||
metropolis. No one took any particular notice of young urchins
|
||
and vendors selling refreshments, flowers and various trinkets
|
||
on the streets.</p>
|
||
<p>Likewise no one witnessed a tea seller pause near one of
|
||
the windows at the back of Enrique’s Empanada Emporium late in
|
||
the day. For a while they watch the chef within in action,
|
||
clearly in his element, before reluctantly pulling away and
|
||
retreating quietly up the stairs to the second floor. They
|
||
should wash up and see if their marketing manager is in the
|
||
mood for some takeout and Terrapin Ale this evening.</p>
|
||
</blockquote>
|
||
<p>~</p>
|
||
<blockquote>
|
||
<p>Background: Alex isn’t young, but in comparison to his
|
||
whizzened uncle Corraidhin he’s the depiction of youth. He has
|
||
jet black hair and alert blue eyes, and a quiet serenity about
|
||
him that gives one pause, as though he’s constantly
|
||
calculating. He gives into his passions quickly however, and
|
||
becomes rather animated when his emotions break loose. He’ll
|
||
be the first to curse his uncle for his foolish endeavors,
|
||
never quite understanding the sysorcerer’s way. Early in life,
|
||
after the death of his parents, Corraidhin took him under his
|
||
wing and tried in vain to teach him the ways of magical
|
||
systems administration. Much to Corraidhin, it only resulted
|
||
in damaged systems, and a rift with his nephew.</p>
|
||
<p>It took years to recover from that, but eventually the two
|
||
grew close again, though distant nonetheless. That closeness
|
||
reflects itself in the situation Alex finds himself in now, a
|
||
mysterious alert from some overly contrived magical system,
|
||
ruining his perfectly good winning streak. It’s not that he
|
||
was necessary bad at all of that stuff, it just, wasn’t as
|
||
much fun as gambling. And it certainly wasn’t as exhillerating
|
||
as writing malware.</p>
|
||
<p>Breaking into a system, smashing it to bites and pieces,
|
||
watching the carefully wrought design burn in amber and green,
|
||
now THAT was magic.</p>
|
||
<p>META: Alex is like Corraidhin in some aspects, he’s
|
||
younger, more brash, more given to whim and fancy. He’s
|
||
somewhat greedy and craven, attracted to riches far too
|
||
easily. He’s a passionate gambler, not due to his skill, but
|
||
by virtue of his ability to distract and confuse, which gives
|
||
him a delightful edge. Some would call it lucky, but he calls
|
||
it subterfuge. He has some sysorcerer skills, nothing quite as
|
||
flexible as Corraidhin, but he delightfully wreaks havoc with
|
||
worms, scrapers, ransom & spyware. If he can’t bypass
|
||
something, he’ll delightfully destroy it. If he can’t break
|
||
in, he’ll distract someone or something so he can slip by.</p>
|
||
<p>(Think rogue + illusion magic, where Corraidhin is straight
|
||
Wizard)</p>
|
||
<p>Introduction: Kev, just give it to me straight, the hell
|
||
does this Deadman’s trigger mean. You can’t have a service
|
||
like that flap, it’s a boolean, you’re either dead or your
|
||
not. And don’t try to lie to me, I’m not some project managing
|
||
schmuck, you know full and well Uncle Corraidhin taught me. I
|
||
know enough to tell when you’re lying.</p>
|
||
<p>(Kevin) Ah, well, umm. Yes I suppose that’s true. You can’t
|
||
be dead and not. It’s just not an option. But Zabbix doesn’t
|
||
lie! It’s what monitors your Uncle’s life force, the state of
|
||
his infrastructure so to speak. Look check your own, there’s
|
||
nothing to indicate any issue with you, but your uncle’s
|
||
fluxuates consistently. None of his other state checks are
|
||
failing though! So it could just be a problem with his
|
||
Deadman’s trigger code.</p>
|
||
<p>Absolutely not. Corraidhin might be a flighty fool, but
|
||
he’s not someone who would deploy faulty code to production.
|
||
There’s no way in hell it would get past his linter, let alone
|
||
all of the QA he does before it even gets that far. Look, what
|
||
the hell did you drag him into, you know exactly what he gets
|
||
up to, just point me in his direction so I can get this shit
|
||
over with.</p>
|
||
<p>(Kevin) Hmm, he didn’t really want me to talk about it, but
|
||
last I saw him, he was babbling on and on about some magical
|
||
Json sword or something. I couldn’t quite keep up with it.</p>
|
||
<p>You were trying to get him to buy into KDL again weren’t
|
||
you?</p>
|
||
<p>(Kevin) It’s a good language I swear, and if your uncle had
|
||
just.. (Alex cuts him off)</p>
|
||
<p>Hush it. What did the sword look like, where was he
|
||
headed?</p>
|
||
<p>(Kevin) <em>sigh</em> it was large, with a ruby hilt, and a
|
||
magical eye of some sort. I’m certain if you just ask around
|
||
you’ll find it. Just ask about the sysorcerer who mutters to
|
||
his sword, that’s how the poor bastard is remembered around
|
||
here these days.</p>
|
||
<p>With this information Alex departed the Sysorcerer’s guild
|
||
in search of his Uncle. As he asked around town, people shied
|
||
away. Nasty business talking about that one, they’d tell him.
|
||
A few mentioned something about an attack, and a dagger and
|
||
bloodlust the likes of which they’d only heard from the bard
|
||
at their local tavern. None of this sounded like the Uncle he
|
||
remembered, but he followed the trail until it lead him to the
|
||
Milk Maid.</p>
|
||
<p>As Alex checked around for someone, anyone who seemed to be
|
||
in the know, he spotted Inky, serving tea as she watched the
|
||
ongoings at the Empanada shop near the Milk Maid.</p>
|
||
<p>Excuse me, miss? You wouldn’t have happened to seen my
|
||
Uncle, he’s an old whizened fellow. Constantly harrumphs and
|
||
goes on and on endlessly about some magical script, or how
|
||
much he hates the School of Powershell. I haven’t been able to
|
||
find him, and I’ve been looking all over the city for the
|
||
better part of 3 days. Note even his best friend Kevin at the
|
||
Sysorcer’s guild knew where he was, and I’m just, I’m at a bit
|
||
of a loss..</p>
|
||
<p><em>sigh</em> I’m sorry to just unload on your like that.
|
||
If you don’t know him that’s okay, I’d be happy to pay for a
|
||
cup of tea for your time.</p>
|
||
</blockquote>
|
||
<p>~</p>
|
||
<blockquote>
|
||
<p><em>(Two days prior)</em></p>
|
||
<p>An office, barely illuminated by the glow of a moonstone
|
||
lamp.</p>
|
||
<p>An elf attired in red silk dress robes with a shimmering
|
||
pattern of butterflies, a red floral picture hat and matching
|
||
high heel boots lounged in the visitor’s chair in front of a
|
||
heavy wooden desk. The charms dangling from her wrist circlets
|
||
tinkled as she reached for a teacup. A silver tray was placed
|
||
to one side of the desk with a pot of maghrebi francus, two
|
||
porcelain cups and a bowl of sugar cubes. The remaining
|
||
surface was mostly covered by a map of Basmentaria, the
|
||
moonstone lamp and a short stack of books. Behind the desk sat
|
||
an imp in a midnight blue suit, a dart pen balanced on the
|
||
edge of two fingers of one hand, while the other tapped a
|
||
silent rhythm on the pineapple leather armrest.</p>
|
||
<p>The lady in dress robes spoke first. “I made some
|
||
inquiries. That sysorcerer acquaintance of yours seems to be
|
||
stuck in some sort of spatial-temporal loop. The anomalies are
|
||
usually salvageable given time and expert attention. His
|
||
nephew is out looking for him now.” She hands the imp a sheet
|
||
with a drawing of a pensive but bright-eyed young man with
|
||
dark hair, and several lines of notes below. “How are things
|
||
at your end?”</p>
|
||
<p>“The situation is tenable for the moment. One checked,
|
||
another disengaged. Between the wizard and bard, Blackfoot
|
||
will think twice before making any more untoward moves. One of
|
||
the waiters at the club said the bard gave him a little
|
||
dressing-down after the stabbing. He was practically shaking
|
||
in his boots by the end of it.”</p>
|
||
<p>The elf laughed. “I read your earlier missive. Slipping a
|
||
catalyst into a milk pudding to stir up a bloodthirsty sword?
|
||
I guess you were pretty sure the thirst wouldn’t get out of
|
||
hand and kill the hobbit outright.”</p>
|
||
<p>“Not entirely, but the good wizard would fight it with
|
||
considerable strength of will. That guild of his may be full
|
||
of white hats too busy with their petty squabbling over
|
||
semantics to see trouble looming until it smacked them in
|
||
their faces, but they have their principles and will not give
|
||
in easily when challenged.” The imp grimaced. “An unpleasant
|
||
matter but arguably a necessity. It was only a matter of time
|
||
before the cursed sword would find itself a target. May as
|
||
well put evil to good use.”</p>
|
||
<p>“You did what you had to do, Ink. And that sailor with the
|
||
gold eye?”</p>
|
||
<p>“Met with an unfortunate … accident. Securing the crystal
|
||
would have been sufficient, but the horkosgrampus weren’t
|
||
terribly impressed with him. The Benefactor should be
|
||
relieved. Men of their ilk would sooner sell to the highest
|
||
bidder.” The pen twirled in their hand once, twice, before
|
||
pausing with the nib pointing downward at a spot on the map.
|
||
The imp continued, “All the more reason to move as soon as the
|
||
young man finds his uncle. Kelsun Peak, most likely.”</p>
|
||
<p>“Right. I’ll let the others know if anything happens.” She
|
||
rose to her heels in a whisper of brocade silks. “Do you want
|
||
an antidote for … ?” She gestured with a slim, graceful hand
|
||
framed in delicate strands of the gold bracelets towards her
|
||
companion.</p>
|
||
<p>The imp inclined their head slightly in grateful
|
||
acknowledgement. “No need. The condition is relatively
|
||
harmless and reversing the effects now might raise suspicion.
|
||
The postmistress at the Hutcheon Lane branch of Leplus Post
|
||
was very tickled by it.”</p>
|
||
<p>“I see. So that’s how it is.” she replied with undisguised
|
||
mirth. The imp ignored her smirk. “Please see to it the
|
||
preparations are carried out. The fate of your beloved
|
||
operetta house may well depend upon it.”</p>
|
||
<p>“You would never!” The elven lady exclaimed in mock
|
||
affront. “No, I wouldn’t, even though it is the bane of all
|
||
fine glassware. However, if the crystals came to less
|
||
discerning hands …” They shared a solemn look before the elf
|
||
nodded and swept out of the room, leaving the cloying scent of
|
||
violets in her path.</p>
|
||
<p>~</p>
|
||
<p>Inky gestures wordlessly for the young wizard to follow
|
||
them upstairs to the second floor of the Milk Market, heading
|
||
straight for the room at one end of a long hallway.</p>
|
||
<p>As Inky enters, their small and fluffy marketing manager
|
||
pops its head out of the wooden tub of water standing to one
|
||
side of the room. “We have a visitor!” Inky cheerfully tells
|
||
the duck. Their marketing manager looks back at them both and
|
||
says, “QUACK!”</p>
|
||
<p>Inky turns back to the young man with a smile. “Please have
|
||
a seat. How may we address you? Tea? No charge for Master
|
||
Corraidhín’s nephew, of course.”</p>
|
||
<p>Once seated on some cushions thrown over a slightly ratty
|
||
tartan rug and having poured out a steaming cup of mandarin
|
||
pekoe for each of them, Inky begins, “So, about your uncle.
|
||
The good news is, we know him. The bad news is, we knew him.”
|
||
They then proceed to recount the events of their latest
|
||
mission at the site of a shipwreck out in the Sugrin Sea, and
|
||
the elder sysorcerer’s disappearance.</p>
|
||
</blockquote>
|
||
<p>Prelude:</p>
|
||
<p>A fringe movement of lunatic paleornithologists and
|
||
crackpots of various other professions has slowly been gaining
|
||
traction over the last few decades. The movement was born when
|
||
the enterprising Modern Fuchsia, at the time a budding young
|
||
scientist on a dig yearning to make a name for himself, found
|
||
the fossil of a modern feathered bird—probably some kind of
|
||
swallow—alongside a theropod, that variety of dinosaur widely
|
||
accepted to be the ancestor of modern birds. Faced with what
|
||
he believed to be irrefutable evidence of a modern descendant
|
||
coexisting alongside its own ancient ancestor, Fuchsia arrived
|
||
at the only conclusion he was capable of making: Birds Are Not
|
||
Dinosaurs. And thus BAND came into being.</p>
|
||
<p>Ever since, Fuschia and his BANDits have spent considerable
|
||
amounts of time and energy attending conferences and
|
||
publishing papers, pouting and demanding to be taken seriously
|
||
by the wider scientific community. A community which, if it
|
||
pays them any attention at all, merely mocks and ridicules
|
||
their crackpot theories.</p>
|
||
<p>Modern Fuschia is of course wrong. But neither he nor his
|
||
BANDits know how dangerously close he came to the actual
|
||
truth.</p>
|
||
<p>For much, much deeper in the shadowy fringes of
|
||
paleornithology, there is a clandestine operation called BATT.
|
||
And only BATT knows the actual explanation for how a modern
|
||
descendant might coexist alongside its own ancestor. Birds Are
|
||
Time Travelers.</p>
|
||
<p>In the far future when birds are the dominant intelligent
|
||
life on Basmentaria, they do indeed invent time travel. The
|
||
end result was catastrophic and is the real reason that the
|
||
dinosaurs went extinct.</p>
|
||
<p>It is a common misconception that barn swallows are the
|
||
most common and widespread species of swallow. That
|
||
distinction in fact belongs to the <em>time swallow</em>.
|
||
Although—if you’re lucky—you’ll never actually see one. Since
|
||
the Incident, the secret agents of BATT have vowed never again
|
||
to interfere with or try to alter the time stream. Nor to
|
||
allow anyone else to. The time swallows are special bred,
|
||
special trained, appearing wherever and whenever an anomaly
|
||
appears to remove it and restore the proper timeline. The tiny
|
||
birds quite literally swallow, consume, and destroy anything
|
||
that meddles with time.</p>
|
||
<p>At their headquarters, in the present day, BATT Director
|
||
Purple Martin is delivering a report to his superior. Martin
|
||
has a throaty and rich voice of which he is self-conscious in
|
||
the presence of his superior’s persistent silence.</p>
|
||
<p>“We have successfully extracted the sysorcerer and have
|
||
repaired the anomaly. The subject is currently under the care
|
||
of Felixe and is expected to make a full recovery. In his
|
||
possession were a couple of interesting artifacts. One Class C
|
||
sentient object, a sword. And a piece of exotica of unknown
|
||
origin. Our researchers so far suspect that it is a sort of
|
||
reliquary containing both elemental and divine arcana. The
|
||
xot’s physical manifestation—a crystalline ore—thus far
|
||
prevents us from determining the precise identity of the
|
||
arcana.”</p>
|
||
<p>Director Purple Martin is delivering this report to a
|
||
lanky, thin man folded into an armchair. He wears thin, wire
|
||
spectacles with round lenses, and dangles a walking stick over
|
||
the arm of the chair as he sits. He interrupts Martin with a
|
||
rare utterance. “The reliquary. I shall like to see it.”</p>
|
||
<p>Now then:</p>
|
||
<p>Retrieval Team 43 welcomes Alex into their ranks even as
|
||
they mourn the loss of Corraidhín the Wizened.</p>
|
||
<p>It starts off as a somber affair at Lucy’s as you all sit
|
||
around your regular table, ensconced and wedged into a corner
|
||
surrounded on two sides by the red velvet curtains that line
|
||
the walls.</p>
|
||
<p>But then the hobbit joins you.</p>
|
||
<p>Blavin Blandfoot orders a round of drinks in tribute to
|
||
Corraidhín. And then another round of drinks to welcome his
|
||
nephew Alex. “A family affair, is it not!” And then another
|
||
round of drinks because he is thirsty.</p>
|
||
<p>The hobbit is in high spirits, brimming with flair and good
|
||
cheer. His arm is fully healed from the attack over a month
|
||
ago at this very table. His fond memories and frequent toasts
|
||
to the sysorcerer make no reference to the incident.</p>
|
||
<p>“The Benefactor is immensely pleased with your performance
|
||
so far!” He punches a new hole in your Frequent Retrieval
|
||
cards. “You are one step closer to winning a FABULOUS PRIZE! I
|
||
don’t mind telling you I’m a little jealous. Assuming you go
|
||
the distance, of course. I mean who doesn’t love hot dogs and
|
||
hot tubs!” He winks conspiratorially at you. “To say nothing
|
||
of actually getting to meet the Benefactor! Just imagine!”</p>
|
||
<p>After a few more drinks he eventually clears a space on the
|
||
table and rolls out a map of Basmentaria. “We once again have
|
||
two reports of a crystal spotting!” He jabs a finger at the
|
||
mountain range in northern Primora. “The first, as you know,
|
||
has been reported by the zephynos high atop Kelsun Peak.”</p>
|
||
<p>“The second,” his voice quivers with excitement. He looks
|
||
up at you wide-eyed and gestures away from the map into open
|
||
space. “Is on the moon!”</p>
|
||
<p>Seated a couple tables away from you is the same trio who
|
||
were present the last time you all met here: a dusty groll, a
|
||
matted gnu, and a curious Ornithologer. The observant among
|
||
you, if you happened to look, would notice that the
|
||
Ornithologer wears a pinkish purplish red armband with the
|
||
word BAND on it. They listen to your proceedings with great
|
||
interest while trying really hard to look like they’re not
|
||
listening. After Blavin’s final proclamation, the trio
|
||
finishes their drinks, stands, and starts to leave the dining
|
||
room.</p>
|
||
<p>WHAT DO YOU DO</p>
|
||
<ul>
|
||
<li>Do you give the second crystal to Blavin?</li>
|
||
<li>Do you choose to go to Kelsun Peak, or to the moon?</li>
|
||
<li>Who is the Lady in Red and what does she want?</li>
|
||
<li>Will Corraidhín recover in the care of Felixe?</li>
|
||
<li>Who does the Director of BATT report to and what do they
|
||
want with the 1st Crystal?</li>
|
||
<li>What’s the deal with the Ornithologer’s Trio?</li>
|
||
<li>Who left you the note signed with an iris and apple?</li>
|
||
</ul>
|
||
<p>Find out next time on BASEMENT QUEST</p>
|
||
<p><a
|
||
href="https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-11/msg00097.html">www</a></p>
|
||
]]>
|
||
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|
||
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|
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|
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