9.9 KiB
| title | created | updated | public | syndicated |
|---|---|---|---|---|
| 00067 | Tue, 28 Feb 2023 07:24:28 -0700 | Tue, 28 Feb 2023 07:24:28 -0700 | yes | yes |
00067
In the fish market, the dreamers continue to sleep soundly through the ringing claxon alarms with nothing but maybe the twitch of a finger to indicate that they hear anything at all.
During the commotion with Marvelo and Gliftwirp, nobody but Rind noticed the thick rusty nail in the side of the candle wiggle its way out of the soft wax and clatter onto the plate at the base of the candle, the ringing of tin masked by the ringing of the claxon alarm.
Still the dreamers sleep.
Rind watches as the candle burns dangerously low. The mummified hand of the Nyxmaer in the base of the candle starts to wriggle, struggle, and strain against the softening wax. It stretches and reaches for the eye in the center of the candle.
Rind continues to soothe the duck and stroke its feathers. The child looks at the space where Gliftwirp and the hemogoblin stumbled into the circle, smudging the line of salt and ash, breaking the circle and severing its continuity. Making a small space for something to get in. Or out.
"Yo! Little cavatappi dude, where the hell are we?!" Alex's eyes scan the room rapidly. There's no water, aside from what he dragged in with his abrupt departure from the pier. The dark sky stretches into the nothingness of the void. Asthe robed figure begins speaks Alex takes note of his situation.
'Nowhere to hide, zero cover. A whole lot of nothing actually. It's one thing after another with this dream thing.'
As the figure finishes his address Alex nods politely. "I'll be honest my guy, I haven't the foggiest what you're talking about. Looks to me you've got the whole sword thing, all I've got is my trusty AK. I guess back top side, in umm I guess the real world, I did find a wonky dagger my uncle tried to hide. But I'm pretty sure that got eaten by a cute little hemogoblin while I was busy murdering ghost pirates. Anyways more to the point, I'm not quite sure I follow."
Alex pauses briefly and then continues, "You say you need to get out of here? Now that part I follow, me the hell too. I just got attacked by some freaky sadist mushroom that called itself katsuva. Cut its head clean off just so it could try and chuck me in the drink. Right unpleasant fella, but I think I lost him when, well, I got here, wherever that is."
"Now I don't know much, but I'm not much for trust after getting attacked by a talking mushroom monster. So if you'll excuse me, I reckon the exit is right about that way (Alex jabs his finger over his back away from the figure), and I'm inclined to head out unless you know a better way."
You weren't in the kobit caves with the rest of Retrieval Team 43, so you didn't see the reliefs. But every Basmentarian is familiar with the iconography of the Trine. This figure is dressed in the traditional rainments of Neddas, god of sages and starlight. Furthermore you recognize them from your dreams in the Milk Market.
Kasutva the small mushroom meeps and hides behind your leg.
"You know, we each of us loved you in our own way," Neddas says. "But of the three of us, I alone gave away pieces of my divinity. I wanted to see you thrive and grow strong.
"You've already found several pieces of my essence. Coin in the treasure hoard below the earth. Mirth in the shipwreck under the sea. And lore in the clouds atop Kelsun Peak.
"And of course you found justice," they say, looking at the sword. "This one got a little weird." The frown. "Became a little sentient, didn't it?" They press the blade of the sword to their chest and absorb it into their being. They sigh happily.
"You have found enough of my essence that I am able to start to materialize again. Not quite in Basmentaria yet. But here, a little bit.
"There are still two more pieces out there. If you can reunite all five crystals, I will be able to cross over into Basmentaria again.
"So yes, Alex. You are correct. It is time you head out. Return to Basmentaria. Find the remaining crystals, so that I may return and right the wrongs of the past. I will do what I can to assist you."
Inky waves back once, twice in greeting, before crossing their forefingers twice, touching a hand briefly to their chest, and strolling towards the restrooms.
Leaning against a wall outside of the rest area, out of sight from the main dining hall, Inky pulls out the message from Master Alex and reads it. Engagement confirmed, it seems. Also in the envelope is a smooth oval grey pebble with the letters "sh" carved onto it. A mini dousojin. How considerate of him.
Putting the envelope and pebble into a shorts pocket, Inky holds up a chewy blood berry biscuit, which they offer to the great horned owl patiently perched on their shoulder. "What if we just zip out now and have a walk around the towers? Do you think it will cause offence to the Grand Master of the realm?" Inky asks her. Fuko looks up from her treat and gives them a short series of disapproving clicks of her beak.
"He wants more 'intel'," Inky says. It isn't even a question.
On another occasion they would be glad to see Master Corraidhn animated and well — when there wasn't a demanding curmudgeon on the other end of an absurd fishing expedition. The elder sysorcerer's presence in the Dreaming, illusion or otherwise, has effectively dashed any prospect of an early night out.
"Thirteen minutes. Only because Scoops likes you." Inky tells the owl.
They look down at their shirt with orange horizontal stripes, blue knee-length shorts, blue running shoes, and wordlessly declare the change of clothes suitable for fine non-dining. The noogle's drawstring pouch is knotted to a metal hoop on a pocket flap to one side of their shorts, having let loose a short mop of tousled red hair. A plush floofy duck keychain dangles next to the pouch.
Emerging from the hallway, the awkward, skinny youth with an owl approaches the far corner table.
You approach the far corner table, weaving your way through the crowded tables of the Harpoon Club.
"Inky!" Blavin chorttles merrily as you pull up a chair. The cat person nods politely at you and starts rebuilding the block tower.
Corraidhín watches the archway behind you as you enter. When nobody follows you into the Harpoon Club he frowns, tugs on his beard, and sits up straighter in his chair.
"You're alone?" Blavin observes. "No matter. Thank you so much for meeting us here! I trust it wasn't too much trouble? A little bit out of the way, I know. But it is so very hard to find a place away from prying eyes, isn't it?"
"Get to the point, Blavin." snaps Corraidhín.
"Quite right!" laughs Blavin, taking a sip of his drink. "Listen," he says, suddenly very serious. "It's time I came clean to you. You deserve that much. And besides, I think we can help each other. While it is true that I work for the Benefactor, I don't actually serve their interests. You see, I represent another party. A double agent they would call me in the spy novels." He waves his hand dismissively, as though somebody were making a fuss over him and he were embarrassed.
"As I'm sure you already know, our organization is called the Golden Iris. Like the Benefactor, our goal is to collect the Ginnarak Cystals. I know you've heard all the old stories. Together they could kill a god, blah blah blah." He sloshes his drink as the gestures. "But we think they've got it all wrong, Inky. That is, they have it backwards at least!"
Blavin leans in, his eyes shining. "The Golden Iris intends nothing less than creating a new god!"
"The Trine has been absent for years. We're going to restore the balance. Now you see why the mission is so important, Inky. We need the crystals."
"Now I know what you're going to say! It all sounds too fantastic. Yes well, that's why I brought along somebody whose credibility I know you'll trust!" He beams at Corraidhín.
The wizard sighs. "As far as I can tell, the hobbit is telling the truth."
Blavin grins as Corraidhín continues.
"The Golden Iris is trying to elevate Sitopotnia, the Corn Mother, to godhood. Which I admit makes a certain kind of sense. She's the only mortal to have created life after all. Kind of the ideal candidate for the job to be honest.
They've hitched an odd team of mules to their buggy to help them. And they're managing to drag the thing forward despite all pulling in slightly different directions. The Cyberplasms want new bodies. The Gnu Zealots want to open source the process so everybody can create new gods. And I don't actually know what the BAND wackos want."
Corraidhín shrugs, "I don't have a particular dog in this fight. The Benefactor was able to excise the, ahem, 'anomaly' that happened at the SS RSS. Including the second crystal, which is currently in his possession, and my body, which is still technically back at the institute and still under the care of Felixe here." The black cat gives another polite nod. Having completed building the tumbling tower, it is now shuffling the tumbrot cards, face down, around on the table.
"Felixe is Basmentaria's preeminent expert in preserving entities that happen to exist between two states. Or that happen to exist in two states at the same time.. Bah, it's complicated," Corraidhín huffs.
"Yes!" interrupts Blavin. "Now! Despite working closely with him all this time, I am actually none the wiser as to the Benefactor's actual plans for the crystals. I just know we need them more.
"Inky, you must retrieve the remaining crystals. And also the one in the Benefactor's possession. And deliver them to us so we may usher in a new age for Basmentaria!"
Felixe the cat deals the cards out to the center of the table, face down, in a cross. Three across, three high. It sets the remainder of the deck aside and looks at you expectantly.
WHAT DO YOU DO?