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