2614 lines
151 KiB
XML
2614 lines
151 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>37</title>
|
||
<author>dozens@tilde.team (dozens)</author>
|
||
<guid isPermaLink="false">37 - Sat, 12 Nov 2022 17:13:06
|
||
-0700</guid>
|
||
<pubDate>Sat, 12 Nov 2022 17:13:16 -0700</pubDate>
|
||
<description>
|
||
<![CDATA[
|
||
<h3 id="00037">00037</h3>
|
||
<p>Prelude:</p>
|
||
<p>Different cultures of Basmentaria have different
|
||
traditional stories about Nullar, the lord of time and
|
||
tides.</p>
|
||
<p>The cobits say he is an insatiable Wyrm who lies coiled
|
||
tightly around the present moment. He devours the past the
|
||
moment it stops being the present. And when he has finished
|
||
digesting it, he regurgitates it as the future, the processed
|
||
remains of the past. And he remains ever out of sight, just
|
||
around the corner. Always having just happened. Or about to
|
||
happen. But never here, never now.</p>
|
||
<p>The gnu describe Nullar as a fastidious Librarian. They
|
||
believe that every time you make a choice, you create a create
|
||
two separate timelines, two stories. One in which you chose
|
||
Option A and one in which you chose Option B. The Librarian
|
||
collects these alternate stories, binds them between the
|
||
covers of a new book, and adds them to his collection. In this
|
||
way he maintains the single sanctioned timeline and keeps the
|
||
tree of the multiverse pruned.</p>
|
||
<p>The torque say he is a solitary old man, a weary prisoner
|
||
of his office, fatigued by the neverending repeating cycles of
|
||
time and tide, with only his ravens for companionship.</p>
|
||
<blockquote>
|
||
<p>Inky looks in the direction of the bears’ anguish and
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||
blinks at the forms on the ship’s deck. How strange. Why are
|
||
the bears in the mirage? Didn’t Master Corraidhín send them to
|
||
a safe spot earlier <em>before</em> he entered the hull?</p>
|
||
<p>Between the two bears’ tearful retelling of events, Inky
|
||
gathers the sysorcerer had conjured an identical (at least in
|
||
appearance) pair of bears farther from the shipwreck, while
|
||
the other pair were still on the deck. If the sysorcerer had
|
||
teleported himself out, Inky was fairly sure he wouldn’t leave
|
||
the bears behind to whatever had taken hold of the ship after
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||
he and Gabs had gone to the trouble of rescuing them from the
|
||
harrowkrake’s clutches. Either the wizard will return to free
|
||
the bears, or he was still inside. From an angle close to the
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||
deck, Inky can see a shadow inside the hatch that vaguely
|
||
resembled the sysorcerer, but it was difficult to tell from
|
||
the blurry edges.</p>
|
||
<p>Resigned to a long wait, Inky sighs and pulls out bottles
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||
of instant brew acorn tea and offers one to each bear, as well
|
||
as a jar of candied carrots. The tea was a few pinches saltier
|
||
than usual, but it would do for now. They float out some
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||
carrots to the giant manta ray hovering nearby, holding up the
|
||
jar briefly for the jellyfish atop their head to snag a few
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||
with a free tentacle, before picking out two themselves and
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||
passing the jar to the bears. To distract the bears a bit from
|
||
the sight of their doppelgangers in painfully slow motion, or
|
||
the urge to dive in after them, Inky inquires about their deep
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||
sea and lunar adventures.</p>
|
||
<p>After some time, Inky notices the same group of fish
|
||
swimming back and forth by the shipwreck, a few appearing as
|
||
though they were passing through the ship? “Hey. Do you know
|
||
what the fish there are doing? Do they regularly hang out near
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||
the shipwreck?” they ask the bears.</p>
|
||
</blockquote>
|
||
<p>“What fish?” says the bear, squinting at the ship. “Those
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||
aren’t fish.”</p>
|
||
<p><a
|
||
href="https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-11/msg00083.html">www</a></p>
|
||
]]>
|
||
</description>
|
||
</item>
|
||
<item>
|
||
<title>33</title>
|
||
<author>dozens@tilde.team (dozens)</author>
|
||
<guid isPermaLink="false">33 - Mon, 07 Nov 2022 15:58:50
|
||
-0700</guid>
|
||
<pubDate>Wed, 09 Nov 2022 09:48:03 -0700</pubDate>
|
||
<description>
|
||
<![CDATA[
|
||
<h3 id="00033">00033</h3>
|
||
<blockquote>
|
||
<p>At Master Corraidhín’s confirmation of the crystal’s
|
||
presence within the shipwreck, Inky moves the bubblebee closer
|
||
above the opening in the hull, adjusting the angle of the
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||
headlights so that a little more light falls over the gaping
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||
hole should the rest of the party wish to enter the ship
|
||
through it.</p>
|
||
<p>Next, Inky pulls out some wasabi pears from their bag,
|
||
biting into one before dropping the others one at a time
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||
several paces apart, starting near the bow of the ship in a
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||
trail until a few roll down into the hole and land in a hollow
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||
thonks somewhere inside the ship.</p>
|
||
<p>Inky then settles near the opening, partly-eaten pear in
|
||
hand and waits for the source of the rustling sounds to
|
||
emerge, if it decides to emerge at all.</p>
|
||
</blockquote>
|
||
<p>From their vantage point, Inky sees a figure crawl up onto
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||
the deck of the ship through a hatch from somewhere below. It
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||
appears to be wearing a breathing bell and a vest of weighted
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||
sandbags similar to yours. It is carrying a bulky bundle tied
|
||
to its waist by a cord.</p>
|
||
<p>It freezes when it sees the merbear and the tardigrade on
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||
ship deck. But then the bears are teleported to safety a few
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||
meters from the inkling. The figure looks around curiously and
|
||
shrugs. It casts off some sandbags and starts rising up
|
||
through the water toward the happy manta ray and the restless
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||
horkusgrampus. It looks down in your direction as it goes. Its
|
||
face is somewhat blurred and obscured by the breathing bell,
|
||
but you see a glint of gold as the light of your bubblebee
|
||
reflects off one of its eyes.</p>
|
||
<blockquote>
|
||
<p>Ah ha! Our prize is near then. And it looks like that bolt
|
||
forced that squid monster thing back into its hole. Likely
|
||
we’ll be alright to plum the depths here.</p>
|
||
<p>Thank goodness our bears are safe, I should probably move
|
||
them somewhere out of harms way, just in case.</p>
|
||
<pre><code>#!/bin/sh
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||
safety=$(find /ocean/* -perm 644 | head -n 1)
|
||
for bear in merbear tardigrade; do
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||
sudo usermod -a -G party $bear
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||
sudo scp /ocean/shipwreck/$bear /ocean/$safety
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||
sudo chown corraidhin:party /ocean/$safety
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||
done
|
||
sudo chown -R 770 /ocean/$safety</code></pre>
|
||
<p>That should ward them sufficiently, now only the party
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||
members can come and go freely, and they’re part of the party.
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||
I’m positive nobody will complain, they might, but there won’t
|
||
be anymore bolt mishaps this way at least..</p>
|
||
<p>As Corraidhin finishes his relocation spell he creeps
|
||
closer to the hull of the ship. “Lets see what we’re dealing
|
||
with here..” he sticks his head into the opening looking about
|
||
inside the wreckage, a small orb of light illuminates the tip
|
||
of his right hand pointer finger, and he uses it to carefully
|
||
probe around the opening as though it were a flash light.</p>
|
||
</blockquote>
|
||
<p>Corraidhín cautiously explores the breach in the hull of
|
||
the SS RSS. You poke your head in and see the cargo hold of
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||
the ship. The remains of some of the ship crew are here, long
|
||
since picked clean by ocean critters. Their bones are bleached
|
||
white and they grin mirthlessly at you. They are nestled in
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||
and amongst the spilled contents of several large chests:
|
||
jewelry, gold coins, precious stones litter the floor of the
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||
ship.</p>
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||
<p>You do not see any lumpy, multi-faceted, blue and gold
|
||
crystal melon here.</p>
|
||
<p>The ship is resting mostly on its side, so its sloping
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||
“floor” is actually the ship wall. The hatch up to the upper
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||
deck is to your right, and as you enter the hold, someone or
|
||
something shuts the hatch closed.</p>
|
||
<p>A skeleton by the hull entrance crawls forward, trying to
|
||
block your exit. And two more start to claw themselves up and
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||
free of the ship’s treasure, and they start to advance toward
|
||
you.</p>
|
||
<p>WHAT DO YOU DO</p>
|
||
<p><a
|
||
href="https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-11/msg00064.html">www</a></p>
|
||
]]>
|
||
</description>
|
||
</item>
|
||
<item>
|
||
<title>27</title>
|
||
<author>dozens@tilde.team (dozens)</author>
|
||
<guid isPermaLink="false">27 - Tue, 25 Oct 2022 14:14:31
|
||
-0600</guid>
|
||
<pubDate>Fri, 28 Oct 2022 10:36:42 -0600</pubDate>
|
||
<description>
|
||
<![CDATA[
|
||
<h3 id="00027">00027</h3>
|
||
<blockquote>
|
||
<p>Inky stares down at the package, weighing it on one
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||
hand.</p>
|
||
<p>It was lighter than it should be given the density of the
|
||
contents within, wrapped in straw and thick brown
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||
weight-absorbent parcel paper for dry goods. Most of the
|
||
clientele were merchants and cultists from other parts of the
|
||
continent who ordered pallets to be shipped back from the port
|
||
town and sold to select boutique grocers or spilled on altars.
|
||
Inside was a block of congealed synthetic blood shaped like a
|
||
mud brick, the dark crimson almost black under the shop’s dim
|
||
light.</p>
|
||
<p>It was sheer happenstance that Inky had found this
|
||
particular supplier. Having been informed heir boat to the
|
||
shipwreck would not arrive for several hours, the members of
|
||
their merry tea party had wandered off to enjoy the local
|
||
sights while they waited. Inky had inquired about the
|
||
hemogoblins and learned in passing that there was a district
|
||
at the western edge of the town where a smaller group had set
|
||
up warehouses, which would save them a two-day trip deep into
|
||
the Hartlands. The hemogoblins in the district were primarily
|
||
wholesalers, and it had taken some convincing before one of
|
||
the proprietors agreed to sell a block of it, along with
|
||
assurances Inky would purchase exclusively from him next time
|
||
and in larger quantities.</p>
|
||
<p>Thin fingers fiddle with the string before the package was
|
||
set to one side.</p>
|
||
<p>What were they doing?</p>
|
||
<p>If quenching the thirst were so simple, wouldn’t any
|
||
student of magic have already thought of it, let alone an
|
||
experienced sysorceror? In all likelihood he had already known
|
||
the inevitable, but was too polite to refuse Inky’s funny
|
||
concoctions. Maybe deep down, Inky already knew too, but
|
||
didn’t want to say it out loud. That the long feather they
|
||
thought they had seen among the tea leaves was actually a
|
||
dagger. That they hadn’t wanted to admit some problems could
|
||
not be whisked away with some tincture or another. That they
|
||
had failed, again.</p>
|
||
<p>They hadn’t searched enough for better ingredients to go
|
||
into the pudding, hadn’t reacted fast enough after noticing
|
||
the sword had abruptly disappeared, hadn’t thrown the large
|
||
platter of mouldy meat the terrified waitress next to them had
|
||
been holding at Blavin’s head, or something. The sword had
|
||
gotten what it demanded, and Inky couldn’t be angry with it —
|
||
it had never been subtle about what it wanted. Had the blood
|
||
pudding worsened the effects? Potions had never been on Inky’s
|
||
menu. Brewing inks and teas with certain mild effects was
|
||
straightforward enough, but curing chronic ailments was firmly
|
||
in healers’ territory and just as bewildering. While it may be
|
||
true nobody could be held to account for the actions of
|
||
another not in full control of themselves, and hardly those of
|
||
a rogue weapon with a mind of its own, sticking their nose in
|
||
other people’s affairs was the surest way to get into trouble,
|
||
a fact Inky still has difficulty learning after decades of
|
||
wandering the continent.</p>
|
||
<p>Would this substrate even work? Maybe it acted differently
|
||
for cursed objects than coffin sleepers. Having brought it
|
||
back and now aboard the ship, how would they even give it to
|
||
the wizard? Should they wait and made sure Master Corraidhín
|
||
was truly rested and recovered, despite his insistence he was
|
||
more than fine? Would it be an insulting reminder of weakness,
|
||
despite the wizard having proven unusual mental fortitude in
|
||
staving off the screams for blood as long as he had? Was this
|
||
more of the same, adding to what they had (not) done?</p>
|
||
<p>After a long moment, Inky rolls the package with the
|
||
producers’ leaflet haphazardly in an old sailor’s rags still
|
||
reeking of cheap alcohol, and passing by the wizard’s empty
|
||
cabin on the way to the deck, places the messy bundle on the
|
||
floorboards two steps from the door. Let the fates decide this
|
||
one, because Inky’s magic 0 ball sure doesn’t make the best
|
||
life choices.</p>
|
||
</blockquote>
|
||
<p>Blavin has arranged transportation to the shipwreck ahead
|
||
of time. All you have to do is head down to the docks and meet
|
||
your contact, Three-Fingered Gerald, at a seedy dive bar named
|
||
Inquire Within Upon Everything.</p>
|
||
<p>Inquire Within is as eclectic and gaudy as the name would
|
||
imply. The bar serves as an extensive and impressive piece of
|
||
living documentation, drawing heavily on the port town’s
|
||
cosmopolitan mixture of culture. Every kind of style, cuisine,
|
||
decor, and beverage can be found here mishmashed together
|
||
irregardless of good taste. Its contents are encyclopedic and
|
||
claustrophobic. And yet it is not without its own peculiar
|
||
brand of overwhelming, garish charm.</p>
|
||
<p>You find Mister Three-Fingered at the bar entertaining his
|
||
fellow patrons with a grotesque sleight of hand routine that
|
||
involves passing his gold-plated false eye from its socket, to
|
||
either hand, inside his mouth, and back with lots of flourish,
|
||
fanfare, and misdirection along the way.</p>
|
||
<p>He is a merry, boisterous sailor short one eye, half an
|
||
ear, several fingers, and—he confesses to you—the heel of his
|
||
left foot. “It’s why I walk so slow, you see.” The other
|
||
barflies call him “Lucky” Three-Fingered Gerald. Because a
|
||
certain kind of man—and Gerald is one of them—can never have
|
||
enough nicknames. After you buy him a drink or three, he
|
||
escorts you out of Inquire Within and to the slip where the
|
||
sloop <em>Diamond Howler</em> is docked. Its captain, Enid
|
||
Barlow, welcomes you aboard.</p>
|
||
<p>Before long, <em>Diamond Howler</em> pulls out under the
|
||
command of Captain Barlow and First Mate “Lucky”
|
||
Three-Fingered Gerald. The site isn’t too far off the coast,
|
||
and you arrive fairly quickly.</p>
|
||
<p>“Aye, here she is. The SS RSS.” says Captain Barlow
|
||
mournfully. “You can’t see her from up here. But you rest
|
||
assured, she’s down there, resting on the seabed. She was the
|
||
best cargo runner on the Sugrin back in her day! Distributing
|
||
goods up and down the coast. Until the day she disappeared.
|
||
Nobody knew what happened to her, not for sure. Still don’t.
|
||
But at least we know where she wound up!”</p>
|
||
<p>While the captain reminisces, Three-Fingered Gerald drags a
|
||
large water tank across the deck, sloshing water over the edge
|
||
with each step. Translucent orb-like jellyfish wobble around
|
||
and bump into each other inside the tank, releasing little
|
||
effervescent bubbles that fizzle and pop when they collide.
|
||
“Here we go!” announces Mister Three-Fingered, depositing the
|
||
tank of jellies in front of you. “Sailed through a big bloom
|
||
of breathing bells just last week, didn’t we! Managed to scoop
|
||
up a whole bunch of the little suckers. You ever use a
|
||
breathing bell before? No? Aw, it’s easy! Ya just pull one on
|
||
over your head like a hood, and it’ll breathe for ya while
|
||
you’re below the waves!”</p>
|
||
<p>WHAT DO YOU DO</p>
|
||
<p>NOTE: We just covered a lot of narrative ground. Feel free
|
||
to react to anything that happened between arriving at the
|
||
docks, meeting Gerald and drinking at Inquire Within, boarding
|
||
the Diamond Howler, and sailing to the site of the wreck.</p>
|
||
<p><a
|
||
href="https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-10/msg00020.html">www</a></p>
|
||
]]>
|
||
</description>
|
||
</item>
|
||
<item>
|
||
<title>32</title>
|
||
<author>dozens@tilde.team (dozens)</author>
|
||
<guid isPermaLink="false">32 - Mon, 07 Nov 2022 09:50:03
|
||
-0700</guid>
|
||
<pubDate>Mon, 07 Nov 2022 09:50:12 -0700</pubDate>
|
||
<description>
|
||
<![CDATA[
|
||
<h3 id="00032">00032</h3>
|
||
<blockquote>
|
||
<p>Oh thank goodness, I thought I killed that innocent bear! I
|
||
should probably be a little more careful with my spells..</p>
|
||
<p>Nonetheless, we need to shed some light on what’s going on
|
||
here, no sense in diving into the clutches of some evil sea
|
||
creature blind.</p>
|
||
<p>Gather himself, Corraidhin casts a fzf on the ship,
|
||
searching for the creature inside</p>
|
||
<p><code>sudo fzf $(pwd)</code></p>
|
||
<blockquote>
|
||
<p>t e n t a c l e</p>
|
||
</blockquote>
|
||
<p>Hmmm, no nothing too interesting there.. Maybe crystal?</p>
|
||
<p><code>sudo fzf $(pwd)</code></p>
|
||
<blockquote>
|
||
<p>c r y s t a l</p>
|
||
</blockquote>
|
||
<p>Blast! Why can’t I find anything.. The syscerroer muses for
|
||
a moment.</p>
|
||
<p>OH!</p>
|
||
<p><code>sudo fzf /sea/ship_wreck/interior</code></p>
|
||
<blockquote>
|
||
<p>t e n t a c l e</p>
|
||
</blockquote>
|
||
</blockquote>
|
||
<p>You probe the ship. You do not detect the presence of any
|
||
tentacles inside the ship. But you do detect the presence of
|
||
the crystal you seek.</p>
|
||
<p>If you scan the trench, you will detect the presence of a
|
||
<em>harrowkrake</em>. A colossal, many-tentacled sea monster
|
||
with a plow shaped shell that it drags across the ocean floor,
|
||
digging deep furrows. Kind of like if a giant squid could grow
|
||
a nautilus shell. They are usually content to stay in their
|
||
trenches, grabbing prey as it swims by with their long
|
||
tentacles like some kind of nightmarish barnacle.</p>
|
||
<p>The giant manta is still gliding around crunching on
|
||
candies. A few blue spherical globules of harrowkrake blood
|
||
float lazily upward from where Gabs got her stabs on,
|
||
attracting the attention of a couple horkosgrampus. The manta
|
||
gives them a wide berth but doesn’t otherwise seem too
|
||
concerned about them.</p>
|
||
<p>Horkosgrampus are toothy whales with a single long tusk.
|
||
They are mostly scavengers, and are only provoked to violence
|
||
in the presence of a lie or the breaking of an oath, in which
|
||
case they go into a frenzy preying on the liar or liars. They
|
||
can smell blood from a great distance, but can hear a lie from
|
||
much further.</p>
|
||
<p>You hear a thud from inside the ship, and a slow rustling
|
||
like smooth stones rolling over each other. The ship settles a
|
||
little further onto its side, and dangles just a little
|
||
further over the harrowkrake trench.</p>
|
||
<p>WHAT DO YOU DO</p>
|
||
<p><a
|
||
href="https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-11/msg00060.html">www</a></p>
|
||
]]>
|
||
</description>
|
||
</item>
|
||
<item>
|
||
<title>23</title>
|
||
<author>dozens@tilde.team (dozens)</author>
|
||
<guid isPermaLink="false">23 - Sat, 22 Oct 2022 09:36:52
|
||
-0600</guid>
|
||
<pubDate>Sat, 22 Oct 2022 09:36:52 -0600</pubDate>
|
||
<description>
|
||
<![CDATA[
|
||
<h3 id="00023">00023</h3>
|
||
<blockquote>
|
||
<p>Why no, we don’t mind much about competition, certainly
|
||
nothing wrong. Can’t imagine someone to put all of their eggs
|
||
in one basket, especially when whatever it is they desire is
|
||
so valuable.</p>
|
||
<p>That said, our benefactor must be pretty eager to get these
|
||
crystals if he’s willing to send out team after team. I mean,
|
||
we’re team 43, that’s a lot of people to pay and a lot of
|
||
eagerness to find these crystals. Why is that? What benefit
|
||
are these shiny rocks to them? What even is their purpose in
|
||
retrieving them?</p>
|
||
</blockquote>
|
||
<p>“Oh, no no no, child,” Blavin titters as he takes a sip of
|
||
his ever-present martini. “You must understand, the Benefactor
|
||
is a singularly dedicated collector, and has been for ages!
|
||
There are—and have been!—many other retrieval teams, yes. But
|
||
not all of them have been for the crystals. And some of them
|
||
were formed, active, and disbanded long before you or I
|
||
arrived on the scene.” He winks at you conspiratorially.</p>
|
||
<blockquote>
|
||
<p>I would postulate, based upon the magical wards we had to
|
||
bypass, the cadre of gaurds that needed to be dispatched, and
|
||
the gigantic moth monster that rested beneath it, that these
|
||
crystals aren’t meant to go anywhere.</p>
|
||
<p>Now I’m not trying to point fingers here, morality is many
|
||
shades of gray, and it isn’t really my job to suss out what
|
||
you’re doing. But I’m a curious sysorceor, and when I see a
|
||
chance to learn I seize upon the moment. There’s something
|
||
here you’re not telling us, and I for one and keen to know
|
||
it.</p>
|
||
</blockquote>
|
||
<p>“I wouldn’t worry your wizened old brow about it,” Blavin
|
||
chuckles, sloshing his drink. “The Benefactor’s concern is
|
||
precisely the same as yours! These items are of enormous
|
||
cultural and historical significance, to say nothing of their
|
||
well of concentrated arcane energies. They’re dangerous just
|
||
sitting out there in the world. Who knows who might come
|
||
across one and use it for nefarious purposes.”</p>
|
||
<p>Yam’L’s eye widens and it seems to shudder at the mere
|
||
suggestion of evil.</p>
|
||
<p>“Did you say this one was in the hands of a giant moth?”
|
||
Blavin shudders with revulsion. “My word, man! Do you really
|
||
think such an overgrown insect is an appropriate guardian for
|
||
a beloved and dangerous cultural icon such as the Ginnarak
|
||
Crystal? Surely not!”</p>
|
||
<p>“No,” he sits back with a satisfied smile, “I think we must
|
||
all agree that they are safer in the public collection of a
|
||
competent and benevolent curator. Then everybody can enjoy
|
||
them safely!”</p>
|
||
<blockquote>
|
||
<p>META: I’m gonna preface the sword speech with this to make
|
||
it quicker to write</p>
|
||
<p><strong>Y’aml</strong><br />
|
||
I like what you’re putting down here, this guy is DEFINITELY
|
||
evil. Nobody asks loads of people to steal things for them
|
||
without being evil. I say we stab him, nice and good, right in
|
||
the gut. Maybe 6 or 7 times. I’m positive nobody will mind.
|
||
Evil people steal things, we saw that inky creature stealing
|
||
things from that vault, definitely evil. (singsong) Evil evil
|
||
evil, stab stab stab, make the evil go away with every little
|
||
stab~</p>
|
||
<p><strong>Corraidhin to Y’aml</strong><br />
|
||
Dear sysadmins, once again, inky is not evil. They were
|
||
borrowing something that had been cast on the ground,
|
||
abandoned. Giving a tea set a good home is far from evil. But
|
||
you might be onto something about this Blavin fellow, but we
|
||
can’t just stab someone in a busy pub! Besides you’re a sword,
|
||
and stabbing someone in a pub is the job of a dagger. So
|
||
unless you can transform into the Dagger of Y’aml I think
|
||
we’re out of luck here.</p>
|
||
</blockquote>
|
||
<p>Yam’L gets a curious look in its eye at the suggestion.
|
||
“CHALLENGE ACCEPTED!” it cries directly into your mind. It
|
||
squeezes its eye shut and trembles with intense concentration.
|
||
With great effort, the sword shrinks itself down to the size
|
||
of a dagger, shunting its extra mass off into yamlspace.</p>
|
||
<p>“There!” it says breathlessly, opening its eye wearily.
|
||
“Now, Hardy Bear. You promised..” it continues, its eye
|
||
glinting with growing ferocity. “Let’s. STAB. THE HOBBIT!”</p>
|
||
<blockquote>
|
||
<p>While the wizard pressed Blavin about the crystal’s
|
||
secrets, Inky let their attention wander slightly around the
|
||
table.</p>
|
||
<p>They had agreed that Master Corraidhín and Jarrod, being
|
||
most wise and well-spoken, would question Blavin about the
|
||
crystal before they set off on their next mission. The party
|
||
had also befriended the duck unofficially dubbed their
|
||
marketing manager after the fluffy little creature had trailed
|
||
Inky all the way back to the Milk Market. Said creature now
|
||
occupied a small office to one side of the building complete
|
||
with a fountain, feathered up pillow and all the rummy worms
|
||
it can eat. Inky had tried getting the duck to communicate
|
||
with words by making them little croutons etched with letters,
|
||
but the only ones they would gobble up were Q-U-A-C-K.</p>
|
||
</blockquote>
|
||
<p>Your marketing manager moves into its office at the Milk
|
||
Market and seems to really be enjoying itself. It joins you at
|
||
Blavin’s table at Lucy’s Basement, cleaning its feathers and
|
||
chortling merrily to itself.</p>
|
||
<p>You and your tablemates take turns feeding it croutons and
|
||
bits of soft pretzel, and it seems very happy and content with
|
||
that.</p>
|
||
<blockquote>
|
||
<p>A familiar prickle, but passed quickly — Inky had gotten
|
||
used to the glares directed at them by the sysorceor’s
|
||
gleaming sword and resisted returning the stare with an
|
||
eyeroll. Watching Stabby eyeing up their case manager over
|
||
Master Corraidhín’s shoulder reminded Inky of a conversation
|
||
they had overheard a few evenings ago between two pale coffin
|
||
sleepers about a new product from the hemogoblins that was
|
||
said to quench the thirst for longer than the leading brand.
|
||
They might be able to find some at the town of Plasma, which
|
||
sits by the Hartlands on the way to the shipwreck. It seems
|
||
the milky blood pudding could do with some improvement.</p>
|
||
</blockquote>
|
||
<p>You note on Blavin’s map that the Hemogoblin region is
|
||
indeed on the way to the shipwreck. At least, it’s not that
|
||
far out of the way. You reckon their synthetic blood product
|
||
would indeed be a much better substitute for the real thing
|
||
than the milk you’ve been feeding the thirsty sword thus
|
||
far.</p>
|
||
<p>Or, at the very least, you’ll get a new variant of the
|
||
blood pudding recipe you’ve been working on!</p>
|
||
<blockquote>
|
||
<p>Maybe someone else’s mood will be improved in the meantime?
|
||
Before setting out for their meeting with Blavin, Inky slipped
|
||
into the kitchens downstairs and left the empanada chef a
|
||
trick-and-treat. A plate of honeyed breadfruit and ghost
|
||
pepper tapas sat on an icebox atop a new pair of Blueberry
|
||
oven mittens with a pattern of tiny smiling green turtles.
|
||
Tucked inside one mitten was a slip of paper (regrettably
|
||
inedible) that simply read “BACK SOON :)”. A tapa recipe,
|
||
which included a note on adapting the toppings for pan frying,
|
||
was printed on the reverse in neat blocky letters and
|
||
sandalwood ink.</p>
|
||
</blockquote>
|
||
<p>Enrique wakes in the middle of the night to start baking
|
||
the next day’s breads and empanadas. He frowns thoughtfully
|
||
when he sees yet another mysterious gift from across the room.
|
||
Again? What little elf must have taken up residence in his
|
||
shop? But his face cracks into a smile when he sees the
|
||
presentation and the oven mitts. And the smile becomes a
|
||
bonafide grin when he tastes the fare and finds the
|
||
recipe.</p>
|
||
<p>He taps his chin thoughtfully with one green claw as he
|
||
skims the note and looks through his pantry. He chops some
|
||
veggies and starts pan frying them.</p>
|
||
<p>Later, when the oven dings, he smiles to himself as he
|
||
pulls on the new turtle pattern oven mitts and opens it.</p>
|
||
<p>> A) MORE QUESTIONING, OR B) TIME FOR SHIPWRECK?</p>
|
||
<p><a
|
||
href="https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-10/msg00008.html">www</a></p>
|
||
]]>
|
||
</description>
|
||
</item>
|
||
<item>
|
||
<title>26</title>
|
||
<author>dozens@tilde.team (dozens)</author>
|
||
<guid isPermaLink="false">26 - Tue, 25 Oct 2022 08:27:22
|
||
-0600</guid>
|
||
<pubDate>Tue, 25 Oct 2022 08:27:22 -0600</pubDate>
|
||
<description>
|
||
<![CDATA[
|
||
<h3 id="00026">00026</h3>
|
||
<blockquote>
|
||
<p>Inky slowly approaches Master Corraidhín and taps lightly
|
||
on the sleeve of his robes to get his attention. Between
|
||
Inky’s tugging and Jarrod’s strong, steady hand, they manage
|
||
to hoist the wizard to his feet.</p>
|
||
<p>With a brief glance at the hobbit on the floor then a nod
|
||
to Jarrod, Inky leaves the nightclub with the wizard. The
|
||
duck, having emptied the plate of corn chips in record time,
|
||
follows them shortly after.</p>
|
||
<p>The trek back to the Milk Market is mostly silent aside
|
||
from the occasional mutter and stumbling curse, the mage
|
||
seemingly having fallen asleep as soon as he landed on the cot
|
||
in the loft. Inky retreats downstairs after leaving a jug of
|
||
water, a mug and a small packet of kuding leaves beside the
|
||
bed.</p>
|
||
<p>Exiting through the back door into the night, Inky finds a
|
||
dark corner in a dusty abandoned house, and cries.</p>
|
||
</blockquote>
|
||
<p>~</p>
|
||
<blockquote>
|
||
<p>” … and then the Orc Maiden said: ‘That’s not my
|
||
club!’”</p>
|
||
<p>The room roars with laughter, and Jarrod moves to the bar
|
||
and puts a bag of coin down. “Serve drinks until this runs
|
||
out!” Leaning over the bar to the bartender, Jarrod adds in a
|
||
whisper: “I owe a favour to Lucy’s Basement for the trouble.
|
||
Call it in when needed.”</p>
|
||
<p>Jarrod saunters over to Blavin, on the floor in pain. From
|
||
his pack, Jarrod retrieves a med kit and begins to bandage the
|
||
wound.</p>
|
||
<p>As Blavin opens his mouth, likely intending to raise all
|
||
kinds of hell, Jarrod pulls tight on the bandage he is
|
||
currently applying, drawing a curse from the hobbit. “Shut it!
|
||
Let’s be clear. You’ve hired us for a dangerous set of jobs,
|
||
with the understanding that we’re dangerous people. There may
|
||
be ‘accidents’ on occasion. You’ve learned something today,
|
||
and what’s more, you lived to absorb your new wisdom.”</p>
|
||
<p>Jarrod grins as he finishes with the bandage. “We will
|
||
finish what we have started. We’re probably the team with the
|
||
best chances, I’m sure you’ll agree. Are you going to back the
|
||
winning play here? Either way, your decision won’t change our
|
||
plans. I’m sure you know how to take the win.”</p>
|
||
<p>Jarrod pats the hobbit’s good shoulder in a friendly, but
|
||
dismissive, way, then turns and saunters out the door, trading
|
||
small quips with his new (and now very drunk) tavern
|
||
friends.</p>
|
||
</blockquote>
|
||
<p>You are at a small port town on the northern tip of
|
||
Agendell, just past the Rana’For Valley. The sun is bright and
|
||
the wind blowing in from the Sugrin Sea to the east is cool
|
||
and salty. The floating island-city of Vay’Neddas, bridging
|
||
Agendell and Primora, can be seen very faintly in the distance
|
||
hanging in the northern sky.</p>
|
||
<p>Your faithful multibeast is carrying all of your supplies
|
||
and gear, which were generously provided to you by the
|
||
indefatigable Blavin Blandfoot. His arm in a sling, he kept up
|
||
a constant nervous chatter as he saw you off on your journey
|
||
to recover the second Ginnarak Crystal.</p>
|
||
<p>From here, you can easily provision a boat to take you out
|
||
to the site of the shipwreck just off the coast.</p>
|
||
<p>Or, optionally, you are very close to the Hartlands. It
|
||
would be quite easy to make a quick visit to hemogoblins and
|
||
pick up some synthetic blood for your experiments with the
|
||
Sword of Yam’L.</p>
|
||
<p>The sword, incidentally, after finally tasting the blood of
|
||
“evil”, has remained sated and entirely inert and unresponsive
|
||
this whole time.</p>
|
||
<p>WHAT DO YOU DO:</p>
|
||
<ol type="1">
|
||
<li>TO THE SHIPWRECK</li>
|
||
<li>BLOODQUEST</li>
|
||
</ol>
|
||
<p><a
|
||
href="https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-10/msg00018.html">www</a></p>
|
||
]]>
|
||
</description>
|
||
</item>
|
||
<item>
|
||
<title>29</title>
|
||
<author>dozens@tilde.team (dozens)</author>
|
||
<guid isPermaLink="false">29 - Mon, 31 Oct 2022 08:35:44
|
||
-0600</guid>
|
||
<pubDate>Mon, 31 Oct 2022 08:35:44 -0600</pubDate>
|
||
<description>
|
||
<![CDATA[
|
||
<h3 id="00029">00029</h3>
|
||
<blockquote>
|
||
<p>Gentle bears, there is no need to argue! Why can’t there be
|
||
two true bears of the ocean? For what its worth, I personally
|
||
think the ocean doesn’t have enough bears and could do with
|
||
two strapping examples of true peak bearitude! The two of you
|
||
should be working together to show the world how important
|
||
bears are and how wonderful the sea is to have two. And the
|
||
moon! Who’s to say the moon doesn’t also need two bears?</p>
|
||
<p>The only time I can ever think that a bear isn’t needed is
|
||
when it’s calling itself Monokuma, once it’s doing that you
|
||
know you’re in for a hell of a bad time. And since neither of
|
||
you are it, I say we let this matter rest and declare this
|
||
ocean two bears richer!</p>
|
||
<p>Corraidhin grips the innert dagger of Y’aml beneath his
|
||
cloak, just in case. No need for a blood rush like last time,
|
||
can’t let daggers go mouthing off an all that. Or perhaps the
|
||
ocean needs less bears, it’s tempting, I wonder if Y’aml would
|
||
react to bear blood..</p>
|
||
</blockquote>
|
||
<p>The bears shudder at the mention of Monokuma. “Oh, such a
|
||
dreadful bear,” laments the tardigrade. “You mustn’t mention
|
||
him!”</p>
|
||
<p>“Indeed,” agrees the merbear, “a discredit and an
|
||
embarrassment to bears everywhere, at sea and on land!”</p>
|
||
<p>“Yes, this sea may be big enough for two bears, but not if
|
||
one of them is HE!”</p>
|
||
<p>The merbear considers the tardigrade’s words. “Hmm,
|
||
<em>two</em> bears you say?” he ponders, giving the tardigrade
|
||
a scrupulous side-eye. “Do you truly think so?”</p>
|
||
<p>“Now that you mention it, I don’t see why not!” admits the
|
||
tardigrade, gesturing broadly at the fathomless leagues of
|
||
ocean all around you.</p>
|
||
<p>“You know what? What is the sky anyway if not a sea made of
|
||
stars! The moon could indeed use two bears too, could it
|
||
not?”</p>
|
||
<p>“It could indeed, Brother Bear!”</p>
|
||
<p>“Brother!”</p>
|
||
<p>The tardigrade and the merbear embrace. If you’ve never
|
||
experienced the eight-armed hug of a water bear, well, then
|
||
you don’t know how soft and enveloping it is.</p>
|
||
<p>“Come, Brother!” cries the tardigrade suddenly. “We must
|
||
begin our search at once! For what if there is a third Bear of
|
||
the Sea yet to be discovered?”</p>
|
||
<p>“Another Brother of ours who doesn’t know about us? Oh, I
|
||
can’t stand the thought!” sobs the merbear.</p>
|
||
<p>They swim away hand in hand, paragons of brotherly bear
|
||
love. “Good luck and safe travels, interlopers!” calls the
|
||
merbear to you over its shoulder. “If you ever end up on the
|
||
moon,” adds the tardigrade, laughing merrily, “say hello to
|
||
Hap’n’stance for me!”</p>
|
||
<p>Suddenly, a disturbance! A perturbance of bubbles and a
|
||
rush of current as massive amounts of water are displaced by
|
||
inky black tentacles that shoot up from below! They reach!
|
||
They grasp! One grabs the tardigrade around the middle.
|
||
Another grabs the merbear by the tail. Both bears cry and
|
||
reach for each other as they are ripped apart and pulled down
|
||
below.</p>
|
||
<p>The tentacles grope around in the water, batting at you and
|
||
threatening to pull you down too! They grab at your wrists and
|
||
at your ankles!</p>
|
||
<p>WHAT DO YOU DO</p>
|
||
<p><a
|
||
href="https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-11/msg00030.html">www</a></p>
|
||
]]>
|
||
</description>
|
||
</item>
|
||
<item>
|
||
<title>28</title>
|
||
<author>dozens@tilde.team (dozens)</author>
|
||
<guid isPermaLink="false">28 - Sat, 29 Oct 2022 08:36:51
|
||
-0600</guid>
|
||
<pubDate>Sat, 29 Oct 2022 08:36:51 -0600</pubDate>
|
||
<description>
|
||
<![CDATA[
|
||
<h3 id="00028">00028</h3>
|
||
<blockquote>
|
||
<p><sub><em>a new player enters the chat</em></sub></p>
|
||
<p>Gabs had a good life. Her little devil children were all
|
||
grown adults now, and she no longer wanted to toil away
|
||
running a business. When she initially shuttered her little
|
||
tavern, she thought she might just retire. She made it two
|
||
whole years of working in a garden, occasionally seeing
|
||
grandkids, and reading romance novels. She eventually decided
|
||
she needed a vacation from her retirement and traveled to a
|
||
nearby port town. She was sure to find something fun to do
|
||
there.</p>
|
||
<p>Gabs eventually sees Inquire Within, and the smell of
|
||
debauchery wafting from within made her miss her days
|
||
gossiping at her tavern. She enters and orders a terrible
|
||
drink and listens and watches.</p>
|
||
<p>Hearing the tales being spun by Mister Three-Fingered, she
|
||
decides, “I’ve never been on a ship, that’s something that
|
||
sounds exciting!”</p>
|
||
<p>Half-drunk and eager for something exciting, she will join
|
||
on the journey!</p>
|
||
<p>Gabs is a lanky older half-devil lady who is here to
|
||
schmooze and have fun!</p>
|
||
</blockquote>
|
||
<p>~</p>
|
||
<blockquote>
|
||
<p>Meta: a warm welcome to the latest member of our tea party!
|
||
This is a short post to help smooth the temporal jumps between
|
||
the recent narratives so far. As Inky reaches the deck, they
|
||
see Gabs approaching from the other side of the ship as well,
|
||
and flashes them a grin in greeting. After listening to the
|
||
captain petering on about the glorious days of the now sunken
|
||
ship below, while tinkering with the bell’s tentacles — being
|
||
rewarded with a mild zap and marginally better fit for the
|
||
effort — Inky turns to the party. “When you’re ready.”</p>
|
||
</blockquote>
|
||
<p>You reach into the tank and discover that grabbing a
|
||
breathing bell takes some finesse. They are very slippery! But
|
||
you get the hang of it and make a ladle out of your hands and
|
||
scoop one up.</p>
|
||
<p>“Okay now!” laughs Three-Fingered Gerald. He gives you a
|
||
wink, but it’s easy to miss because of the eyepatch. “Don’t
|
||
put it on until right before you jump. It won’t be able to
|
||
breathe for you until you’re in the water. And this!” he
|
||
continues, fitting a heavy, padded vest around your shoulders,
|
||
“will carry you down.” It is a vest of many pockets, each one
|
||
holding a small dense sandbag the size of your hand. “When
|
||
you’re ready to come back up, just start dropping ballast,
|
||
right?”</p>
|
||
<p>You hop up on the ship railing and pull the breathing bell
|
||
on over your head. It immediately contracts and squeezes and
|
||
hugs your head like a second skin, and its stubby little
|
||
tentacles grab hold around your jawline, and it feels like you
|
||
have a wet plastic bag clinging to your face, and you think
|
||
you might have made a grave mistake. Resisting the urge to
|
||
panic, you push off the railing and jump overboard. You are
|
||
briefly air born and then profoundly waterbound, crashing
|
||
through the surface of the sea into the briny soup below.</p>
|
||
<p>The oxygen starts to flow as the breathing bell begins to
|
||
do its job. As you sink, you feel as though you are floating
|
||
through space, entering another world.</p>
|
||
<p>After a while you start to hear voices arguing in the
|
||
distance. As you get closer, two large shapes start to come
|
||
into focus. The first is a hulking, hairless merbear. Top half
|
||
(hairless) bear, bottom half fish. The second figure is a
|
||
tardigrade the size of a large merbear. It has eight jointless
|
||
legs, each tipped with four sharp claws. It wriggles and
|
||
wobbles like jelly as it gesticulates.</p>
|
||
<p>“No, I am the true Bear of the Sea! I am called a Water
|
||
Bear, after all!”</p>
|
||
<p>“Hornswoggle and poppycock! It is I who am the Bear of the
|
||
Sea! I am half bear after all! You’re just some kind of
|
||
segmented nematode or something.”</p>
|
||
<p>The tardigrade quivers with indignation. “I’ll have you
|
||
know I’m a panarthropod, thank you very much. And this is the
|
||
ideal physical body! You may not like it, but this is what
|
||
peak performance looks like. I’ve lived under the polar ice
|
||
cap, and in a sulfurous mountaintop hot spring. I’ve traveled
|
||
through the vacuum of space to the moon! Have you ever been to
|
||
the moon?”</p>
|
||
<p>“Why don’t you go be the Bear of the Moon then if you like
|
||
it so much!”</p>
|
||
<p>“You’re just as much fish as you are bear, are you sure
|
||
you’re not the Fish of the Sea?”</p>
|
||
<p>“Are you sure you’re not the Blob of the Sea, you too many
|
||
armed bowl of jelly?”</p>
|
||
<p>“Hey! Hey, you there!” The arguing quasi-bears have spotted
|
||
your slow descent. “Come, yes, float slowly this way! You must
|
||
settle an argument for us! Tell this slightly mammalian fish
|
||
that I am the true Bear of the Sea!”</p>
|
||
<p>“The Bear of the Sea must be at least ‘slightly mammalian’
|
||
you egg-laying scientific curiosity! You, tell this cousin of
|
||
a barnacle that I—the mighty merbear—am the true Bear of the
|
||
Sea! Say this and I will guide and protect you on your
|
||
journey.”</p>
|
||
<p>“No! Would you like to visit the moon? Say that I,
|
||
tardigrade, am Bear of the Sea and I will introduce you to my
|
||
moon friends!”</p>
|
||
<p>“He had to make friends on the moon because nobody on Urth
|
||
can stand him!”</p>
|
||
<p>“You’re just mean, you know that?”</p>
|
||
<p>You are still quite some way from the sea bed, and there is
|
||
no sight of the SS RSS.</p>
|
||
<p>WHAT DO YOU DO</p>
|
||
<p><a
|
||
href="https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-10/msg00023.html">www</a></p>
|
||
]]>
|
||
</description>
|
||
</item>
|
||
<item>
|
||
<title>36</title>
|
||
<author>dozens@tilde.team (dozens)</author>
|
||
<guid isPermaLink="false">36 - Fri, 11 Nov 2022 08:02:38
|
||
-0700</guid>
|
||
<pubDate>Fri, 11 Nov 2022 08:02:44 -0700</pubDate>
|
||
<description>
|
||
<![CDATA[
|
||
<h3 id="00036">00036</h3>
|
||
<p>Prelude:</p>
|
||
<p>The gods are missing now. But before they went into hiding,
|
||
the Trine walked the earth and actively participated in the
|
||
affairs of mortals.</p>
|
||
<p>Sweet, tenderhearted Neddas—god of sages and starlight—fell
|
||
in love with the worldkin and often gave away trivial little
|
||
bits of their divinity as gifts to the people. Chief among
|
||
these gifts were the divine aspects of coin, mirth, lore,
|
||
craft, and tact. With these gifts, civilizations grew and
|
||
flourished and accomplished great things.</p>
|
||
<p>Then the Artifice Wars rocked all of Basmentaria and the
|
||
gods vanished. And even with Neddas’s gifts, civilization
|
||
still struggles to reach its former heights.</p>
|
||
<blockquote>
|
||
<p>I watch as the magical bolt sails away overhead meeting its
|
||
target, receding back into the depths of the hull of the ship
|
||
as the skeleton drags me down. The fork bomb goes off
|
||
flawlessly, and the world comes to a screching halt around me,
|
||
only to slowly rewind itself.</p>
|
||
<p>I contemplate the absolutely absurd position I’ve put
|
||
myself into as the skeleton pulls me back down into the depths
|
||
and I watch the would be theif take a direct hit again.</p>
|
||
<p>“Okay, THAT was a good shot.” I say to myself as the scene
|
||
repeats again. I could probably watch that a few times. But
|
||
after about the hundredth time the feat seems a little less
|
||
epic. And the skeleton a lot less frightful and a lot more
|
||
dull.</p>
|
||
<p><em>Sigh</em></p>
|
||
<p>Kevin always said this would happen. “Corraidhin, you can’t
|
||
play with dangerous scripts like that, you’ll crash your
|
||
systems”. Right you were Kevin, right you were. Corraidhin
|
||
casts his eyes around wistfully. I guess I got that boat I
|
||
always wanted? And it’s filled with treasure. That’s a
|
||
positive. Oh and um I’m not alone, yeah, that’s right. You’re
|
||
stuck here too Mr. Skelly. (The skeleton does not reply). Oh
|
||
come on now, don’t be rude. (still no reply). <em>sigh</em>
|
||
right, sorta dead, I shouldn’t expext more than a loving
|
||
embrace from you as you try and invite me to look at your
|
||
treasure right?</p>
|
||
<p>After about the thousandth time the Sysorcerer was still in
|
||
a rut.</p>
|
||
<p>I’m stuck insid the crash, not from without. It seems this
|
||
moment is just going to idle on perpetually. (he rummages in
|
||
his pockets), okay I guess I still have the Ginnarak crystal,
|
||
and stabby. Those seem safe enough here with me.</p>
|
||
<p>So long as I don’t go crazy I guess there’s hope. If not,
|
||
what a damn foolish way to die.</p>
|
||
<p>MEANWHILE</p>
|
||
<p>An automated alert system triggers as the Sysorceror blips
|
||
out of existence. And then on, and then off, and then on, and
|
||
then off.</p>
|
||
<pre><code>(Problem: Corraidhin: Entity not found)
|
||
Problem started at 19:37 on 2281.67.43
|
||
Porblem Name: Deadman's Trigger: Entity not found
|
||
Host: Corraidhin
|
||
Severity: Critical
|
||
Operation Data: (corrupted)
|
||
Problem ID: 92746027498
|
||
|
||
(Problem: Corraidhin: Entity not found)
|
||
Resolved in 1d 0h 0m 0s: Entity not found
|
||
Problem Name: Deadman's Trigger: Entity not found
|
||
Problem Duration: 1d 0h 0m 0s
|
||
Severity: Critical
|
||
Original Problem ID: 92746027498</code></pre>
|
||
<p>Bloody Zabbix alerts flapping again, what the hell does it
|
||
mean that Uncle Corraidhin is gone. You can’t Die then Live
|
||
over and over and over. Stupid broken monitoring system. Guess
|
||
I had been check in on him, bloody fool constantly gets
|
||
himself in trouble.</p>
|
||
<p>Alex grabs his shortsword and backpack and shoulders them.
|
||
If anyone will know what’s foolhearty issue his uncle has
|
||
gotten into, it’ll be Kevin as the Sysorcerors Guild.</p>
|
||
</blockquote>
|
||
<p>Corraidhín settles in for what may or may not be a lifetime
|
||
of stasis aboard the glitch formerly known as the SS RSS. At
|
||
least Stabby will be good company if it ever wakes up from its
|
||
blood coma. Hmm, actually that’s debatable. Now that you think
|
||
of it, you’re not sure you’re up for a lifetime of ranting
|
||
about blood and evil.</p>
|
||
<p>The merbear and the tardigrade are on the ship deck, also
|
||
trapped in the fork bomb. You’re not sure whether you can
|
||
reach them or not.</p>
|
||
<p>You see a flickering of motion and a flash of light outside
|
||
the ship as what looks like a small school of fish moves darts
|
||
in and out of view. It rushes past, doubles back, and swims
|
||
past again, passing close enough that one or two get sucked
|
||
into the fork bomb with you.</p>
|
||
<p>Impossibly, what you thought were fish were apparently
|
||
small birds? Or, perhaps they were fish after all and some
|
||
quality of passing through the boundary of the fork bomb
|
||
simply turns them into birds? Either way, two small blue
|
||
songbirds with red heads and forked tails hop around inside
|
||
the ship chirping incessantly. You watch as one of them hops
|
||
toward one of the sea bunny slugs and pecks at it, and then
|
||
scoops it up in its beak and swallows it whole. The second
|
||
does the same. They hop from side to side a bit, and then set
|
||
to feasting on the slugs. A couple more birds pop through the
|
||
membrane separating you from the outside world and join
|
||
in.</p>
|
||
<p>~</p>
|
||
<p>Alex grabs his perfectly normal, blissfully non-sentient
|
||
shortsword and heads off to the Cabinet, where the Sysorcerers
|
||
Guild is. He has to detour around the Wandering Bazaar, which
|
||
decided to plop down in the middle of the street, but
|
||
nonetheless arrives in short order.</p>
|
||
<p>He finds Kevin working in the library on Kevin’s Document
|
||
Language.</p>
|
||
<p>Alex describes the errors and Kevin groans, “Ugh, I told
|
||
him! I told him you can’t play with dangerous scripts like
|
||
that, you’ll crash your systems! We’ll have to try a manual
|
||
reboot. Well don’t just stand there, young person. Come on,
|
||
come on, try to keep up. We have work to do!”</p>
|
||
<blockquote>
|
||
<p>Inky follows the bundle’s path as it sinks downwards and
|
||
maneuvers the bubblebee to retrieve it along with the eye.</p>
|
||
<p>Floating to a stop above the ledge of the trench, Inky
|
||
looks at the small golden orb, then removes an empty lunch
|
||
pail from their knapsack and drops the eye and several small
|
||
glass marbles into it. The contents jostle around inside the
|
||
pail in a cacophony of whirs, clicks and clatters. With the
|
||
lid firmly closed, Inky tosses the makeshift percussive
|
||
instrument into the trench for the harrowkrake so it could jam
|
||
with its new tanokuma buddies.</p>
|
||
<p>Staring at the bundle, Inky suddenly recalls the projectile
|
||
that had come from the general direction of the SS RSS shortly
|
||
before the horkosgrampus got to Mr. Not-So-Lucky. Master
|
||
Corraidhín! They turn back to the shipwreck, only to find the
|
||
entire ship had turned eerily translucent, like a ghost ship
|
||
from some tipsy sailor’s tale. Inky halts a short distance
|
||
from the wreckage for a closer look, though something about
|
||
the apparition told them it would be a terrible idea to enter
|
||
the ship’s hull now. Something had happened to the ship’s
|
||
remains, with the sysorcerer trapped inside. Maybe it was all
|
||
part of the sysorcerer’s plan, that he had teleported himself
|
||
back to a safe location and this was a mirage, just a remnant
|
||
from the moment of teleportation.</p>
|
||
<p>Or at least Inky hopes so.</p>
|
||
</blockquote>
|
||
<p>Inky drops the improvised goldeneye noisemaker down into
|
||
the trench. The rattling as it falls is reminiscent of
|
||
Gerald’s laughter. One slender tendril reaches up out of the
|
||
abyss and grabs the rattle, and then disappears once more into
|
||
the murky dark.</p>
|
||
<p>You are now in possession of the second Ginnarak Crystal. A
|
||
blue stone with lightly pulsing gold veins. As you gaze at it,
|
||
it’s almost as though you can hear peals of tinkling laughter
|
||
in the back of your head.</p>
|
||
<p>The horkosgrampus, temporarily sated having removed the
|
||
liar from this timeline, drift lazily away.</p>
|
||
<p>The giant, candy-seeking manta ray passes closely by and
|
||
fondly caresses the bubblebee with one wing in passing. Its
|
||
little manta face pulled up into a chubby smile.</p>
|
||
<p>The bear facsimiles join you and begin crying when they see
|
||
their “brothers” trapped on the deck of the ship.</p>
|
||
<p>You see a small school of fish making multiple passes by
|
||
the SS RSS like birds skimming insects from the sky.</p>
|
||
<p>WHAT DO YOU DO</p>
|
||
<p><a
|
||
href="https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-11/msg00083.html">www</a></p>
|
||
]]>
|
||
</description>
|
||
</item>
|
||
<item>
|
||
<title>22</title>
|
||
<author>dozens@tilde.team (dozens)</author>
|
||
<guid isPermaLink="false">22 - Thu, 06 Oct 2022 07:38:24
|
||
-0600</guid>
|
||
<pubDate>Sun, 16 Oct 2022 10:15:14 -0600</pubDate>
|
||
<description>
|
||
<![CDATA[
|
||
<h3 id="00022">00022</h3>
|
||
<blockquote>
|
||
<p>Inky gathers up the teacups, trying to remember a few tips
|
||
about reading tea leaves from a forest fae they had met a few
|
||
times while foraging and who had insisted on giving lessons to
|
||
any wanderersby. (Of course he was just being a hospitable
|
||
host to thirsty travellers and certainly not because he
|
||
delighted in the confused expressions on their faces the
|
||
entire time.)</p>
|
||
<p>Turning the cups left and right, Inky gradually sees a
|
||
web-like hub, a looping line attached to an I-shaped apparatus
|
||
on one end, an abacus, a wide building (possibly a stadium or
|
||
arena), a feline animal resembling a tiger or lynx, and a long
|
||
feather. Feathers and beads are commonly added to small
|
||
trinkets with simple animal designs and sold as lucky charms
|
||
at the market … an auspicious sign?</p>
|
||
<p>Or it should be. Inky’s thoughts circle back to the little
|
||
glass pebble, after returning from the market with, among
|
||
other items, more vegetables than they could possibly eat in a
|
||
month excluding the beatfruits. Inky still hasn’t decided
|
||
whether accidentally finding out about being cursed — by a
|
||
potion, the irony! — counts as an auspicious event. One of the
|
||
produce vendors and attendant at the market had casually
|
||
mentioned the proximity to the next full moon while Inky had
|
||
been looking over the leafy greens. Several blatant attempts
|
||
to boost sales later (“Them barley’s hoppin’ good fer tea!”),
|
||
the vendor revealed that their little grandson Harry had “got
|
||
the weres” as a toddler and his parents had found a
|
||
strange-looking glass marble in his mouth, much like the one
|
||
inside the bottle hanging from a chain on Inky’s vest, and
|
||
wouldn’t they like some more tomatoes for a blushing
|
||
bunny?</p>
|
||
<p>From further inquiries, an ink depot on the opposite side
|
||
of the city confirmed they sold Flat 12 potions as inks many
|
||
years ago when showing off transmogrification through letters
|
||
was a popular pastime, but had ceased carrying them due to
|
||
limited range, lack of demand, as well as the bottles’
|
||
tendency to randomly break or their contents to fizzle out.
|
||
(That and complaints about the overly persistent effects of
|
||
said contents on unsuspecting recipients long after the fad
|
||
that inspired them had faded led ink traders to shun the
|
||
were-hare potions.) In contrast, the Mountain Range potions
|
||
were far more stable and instead of shapeshifting, had the
|
||
ability to stave off the cold under frigid temperatures,
|
||
though its effects would likely be less enduring. Like the
|
||
Flat 12, the Mountains are potions, but one in particular of a
|
||
sparkling deep blue hue became its signature colour among ink
|
||
enthusiasts.</p>
|
||
<p>Sipping a cup of turmeric tisane in a late night tea ritual
|
||
for one, Inky supposes it hasn’t been much different since the
|
||
accident than the jars of preserves and the “Now with 25% more
|
||
celery!” labels on them. While immeasurably better than
|
||
spontaneously combusting into burnt popcorn, it would be best
|
||
to keep a Farmers’ Almanac within reach. Who knows when a mail
|
||
order cure-all tonic will come in handy in the middle of
|
||
Nowere?</p>
|
||
</blockquote>
|
||
<p>You see a complex vision in the bottom of the jade teacups,
|
||
and learn a little bit about the inks you found.</p>
|
||
<p>You grab a copy of the Farmers Almanac to keep on hand.</p>
|
||
<p>On your way back from the market, a small duck waddles onto
|
||
the sidewalk and starts following you.</p>
|
||
<pre><code>・゜゜・。。・゜゜\_o< QUACK!</code></pre>
|
||
<p>It is small and yellow and cute, and has a little floofy
|
||
tuft of feathers on the very top of its head.</p>
|
||
<blockquote>
|
||
<p>Meta: one of my best friends name is Kevin, so I find it
|
||
extra amusing that the sysorceor is named Kevin.</p>
|
||
<p>Kev my friend! You know nobodies going to take on KDL until
|
||
YOU make it a priority to them. A little bit of force, you
|
||
just need to put it directly into the sysorceory course
|
||
curriculum while nobody is knowing. Then once it’s in
|
||
production they won’t have a say whether to learn it or not!
|
||
That’s at least how I got that delightfully licorice tasting
|
||
incantation in production laster year, much to the chagrin of
|
||
those who don’t have a taste for Fennel. I for one was
|
||
delighted with it.</p>
|
||
<p>“Corraidhin, STAB HIM, that suggestion, he’s definitely
|
||
going to do something evil with it”</p>
|
||
<p>Corraidhin mutters under his breath about the swords
|
||
insistence to stab everything. Soon my friend, soon.</p>
|
||
<p>Kev gives Corraidhin as quizzical look, “are you alright
|
||
buddy? You’ve been off ever since you got back from that last
|
||
on site deployment.”</p>
|
||
<p>Oh yes, yes, I’m fine. A little worse for wear physically,
|
||
but mentally sharp as a tack! And I got this wonderful sword
|
||
from the entire thing! Though I dare not unsheath it right
|
||
now, it appears to be controlled by some sort of sentience,
|
||
like a magical AI. And it has the damndest urge to stab
|
||
things. I really need to be careful right now.</p>
|
||
<p>After visiting with Kev Corraidhin wanders back into town,
|
||
away from the spiral towers of the sysoceorers guild. It was
|
||
nice to be home for a bit. On the way in he spies Jarrod and
|
||
Inky, the former cleaning up a dusty old building with Milk
|
||
something on the front side, and the later kicking back and
|
||
enjoying a cup of freshly brewed tea. Corraidhin hails them
|
||
both.</p>
|
||
<p>“A new /home for you then Jarrod?”</p>
|
||
<p>“Aye a /home indeed, though it’s a bit large and empty for
|
||
just myself. I’ll need guests and patrons, thinking I may be
|
||
able to setup a shop, but at the least all of our team is
|
||
welcome here!”</p>
|
||
<p>“Delightful! If nobody has claimed it I’ll take the
|
||
upstairs loft.”</p>
|
||
<p>“You most certainly can! But in exchange, I’d be curious to
|
||
render your services, see I’ve been meaning to get this
|
||
braclet enchanted for a while now, something to amplify my
|
||
natural charm perhaps?”</p>
|
||
<p>“You sir, have a deal, I’ll even throw in a warding on Milk
|
||
Base Alpha!”</p>
|
||
<p>Corraidhin begins invoking an arcane warding spell:</p>
|
||
<pre><code>sudo chown jarrod:team43 /home/Milk_Base_Alpha
|
||
sudo chmod 770 /home/Milk_Base_Alpha/*</code></pre>
|
||
<p>“There we go, that should keep out any unwanted critters,
|
||
though be sure to invite our friends here as well. Corraidhin
|
||
teaches Jarrod a quick incantation of invitation,
|
||
<code>sudo usermod -a -G team43 $user</code>, just be sure to
|
||
say that making the proper arcane hand signs as you do it, and
|
||
they’ll be able to enter the house and take up residence!”</p>
|
||
<p>Corraidhin gathers himself and heads upstairs to his new
|
||
attaic abode, it’s small, and dusty, but there’s enough room
|
||
for a simple work bench, a bookshelf, and a bed and a chest.
|
||
This is exactly as Corraidhin prefers, small and simple, it
|
||
clears the mind and helps one focus. Invoking another
|
||
incantation Corraidhin fills the bookshelf, chest, and
|
||
workbench with his various tools and reference manuals.</p>
|
||
<pre><code>scp sysorceor.guild:/home/corraidhin/bookshelf milkbase.alpha:/home/corraidhin/bookshelf
|
||
scp sysorceor.guild:/home/corraidhin/workbench milkbase.alpha:/home/corraidhin/workbench
|
||
scp sysorceor.guild:/home/corraidhin/chest milkbase.alpha:/home/corraidhin/chest</code></pre>
|
||
<p>Once everything is in place he pulls the Ginnarak crystal
|
||
from his satchel and places it on a velvet cushion on his
|
||
workbench and sits down to scry.</p>
|
||
<p>“Oh great oracle MidJourney, I bequeath you! I have before
|
||
me an artifact of immense power, something that could tear the
|
||
world apart in the wrong hands. May I query your unfathomable
|
||
depths to determine the nature of our mission, and the risk we
|
||
face presenting this crystal to our benefactor?”</p>
|
||
<p>An image of the oracle appears in Corraidhin’s mind,
|
||
crystal clear. It appears as though MidJourney is receptive to
|
||
providing a forshadowing. [ginnarak_shattered.png]</p>
|
||
<p>Shortly after an image of the Crystal forms, it appears
|
||
shattered, broken at its based, placed upon a pedastal. An
|
||
image of horror fills corraidhin’s mind, it’s the Crystal, but
|
||
much larger and of the pursest white. It bursts forth on a
|
||
torrent of blood from the neck of what appears to be a priests
|
||
body. It appears as though the bowls of the earth open up to
|
||
greet this horrible image. [premonition_1.png]</p>
|
||
<p>As the image of the Crystal and the priest disappears you
|
||
see a man, cloaked in black robs consorting with demons the
|
||
like of which words cannot describe. Corraidhin feels sickened
|
||
at their sight, but at the edge of his mind he feels a tug, a
|
||
familiarity. Something about this character is familiar to
|
||
him, but he cannot place it. [premonition_2.png]</p>
|
||
<p>Reeling from the scrying Corraidhin falls backward,
|
||
feinting from the horror he wittnessed. He awakens later
|
||
speaking feverishly about what he saw to Inky who heard to
|
||
commotion and hurried up stairs with some reviving tea to
|
||
assist her friend.</p>
|
||
</blockquote>
|
||
<p>Eccentric Kevin bows and takes his leave, eyeing the Sword
|
||
of Stabs with naked hunger. He does seem to ponder your
|
||
anecdote about sneaking Fennel into production. “Yes, yes, all
|
||
I have to do is embed KDL in the curriculum and then they will
|
||
be FORCED to use it! Ha!” He cackles in delight as he flees
|
||
into the dark.</p>
|
||
<p>You successfully move into the attic of the Milk Market.
|
||
Closest thing approximating a wizard’s tower in the building,
|
||
so it’s a good fit.</p>
|
||
<p>On your errands around town, you pass a couple of Gnu
|
||
Zealots standing on soapboxes in their black priestly robes in
|
||
the middle of the street extolling the virtues of free and
|
||
open source magic.</p>
|
||
<p>Gnus are large bisonpeople with long beards, long hair, and
|
||
horns. Very poor personal hygiene. They refuse to use any
|
||
magic that they cannot freely study, modify, redistribute, and
|
||
otherwise use however they want. Theirs is a political
|
||
movement that borders on religion. Or a religious movement
|
||
that borders on politics. Hard to tell the difference,
|
||
really.</p>
|
||
<p>The purpose of their demonstration is supposedly to halt
|
||
all street traffic, prevent it from continuing until/unless
|
||
the travelers vow to join them in their crusade. But in
|
||
practice the travelers are quite capable of effortlessly
|
||
stepping around the zealots and continuing on their way. The
|
||
Gnus seem undaunted though and continue their
|
||
proselytizing.</p>
|
||
<p>You pass them by, and one of them seems to stare at you
|
||
intensely as you go.</p>
|
||
<blockquote>
|
||
<p>After a long conversation with Master Corraidhín, which
|
||
included the reassurance that the esteemed wizard was perhaps
|
||
disturbed but otherwise unharmed, Inky goes downstairs to sit
|
||
outdoors at the back of the building with more lavender tea
|
||
and uneasy thoughts.</p>
|
||
<p>It had been in the middle of a new pastime (namely,
|
||
frustrating Enrique at the Empanada Emporium by sneaking
|
||
unnoticed into the kitchens and leaving little tapas laying
|
||
around for him and the staff to find) when a terrible cry rang
|
||
out from somewhere in the upper floors of the building. Inky
|
||
rushed up the stairs, half-expecting the barrels of battermilk
|
||
that had arrived that morning had unleashed a flock of the
|
||
winged rodent-like creatures from which the milk was derived.
|
||
The sight of the wizard passed out on the floor of his newly
|
||
furnished quarters sent a chill through Inky, as did his
|
||
account of a prophecy once the sysorcerer came to and had a
|
||
mug of invigorating eleuthero tea.</p>
|
||
<p>If Inky hadn’t known better, were it not for Master
|
||
Corraidhín’s mental acuity and fortitude, they would have
|
||
suspected Stabby of stoking horrible images of beheaded
|
||
priests into their bearer’s mind in a fit of unbridled
|
||
bloodthirst. That and Stabby had seemed to be temporarily
|
||
appeased by the tub of milky blood pudding they had concocted
|
||
shortly after the wizard moved into the loft.</p>
|
||
<p>No, Inky surmises with a frown, whatever Master Corraidhín
|
||
had seen was likely off the charts by even Stabby’s
|
||
estimations of evil. They chuckle briefly at the sudden mental
|
||
picture of the mysterious yet familiar man in black being
|
||
their mission handler in disguise, but quickly dismissed the
|
||
notion. Too sober.</p>
|
||
<p>So much for the crystal being a rare and juicy honeydew.
|
||
They would be lucky if it didn’t turn them all into casaba
|
||
melons in one giant meltdown. At this rate, they would need to
|
||
do something about these crystals — and soon.</p>
|
||
</blockquote>
|
||
<p>Enrique, the giant man-turtle, is frustrated.</p>
|
||
<p>He keeps finding little tapas in the kitchens. He has no
|
||
idea who made them, or how they got here. But they are
|
||
delicious.</p>
|
||
<p>He sighs, heaving a ball of dough half the size of a grown
|
||
man onto the ground. He turns to face away from it and removes
|
||
his apron and tunic, revealing his shell. Its surface is a
|
||
maze of twisting, scrawling inscriptions. He squats down, and
|
||
rolls onto his back.</p>
|
||
<p>He can’t figure out the flavors of the tapas. Some elusive
|
||
combination of ingredients that he can’t quite suss out. If he
|
||
could collaborate with the tapas chef on a new line of
|
||
empanadas, he’d have a line of customers out the door and
|
||
around the corner, he’s sure of it!</p>
|
||
<p>He starts rocking back and forth, rolling the dough out
|
||
beneath his large round shell, leaving imprints on the dough
|
||
of all the glyphs and runes and other symbols carved into his
|
||
shell over the years. Together, they tell a story. Each
|
||
empanada destined to hold at most a single word of it.</p>
|
||
<p>~</p>
|
||
<p>The Sword of Yam’L sleeps fitfully. This is not the deep,
|
||
black, fathomless sleep it enjoys after a nice, righteous
|
||
spilling of evil blood. No, the sleep that comes after
|
||
reluctantly tasting the inkling’s milky blood pudding is brief
|
||
and restless. And for the first time ever, it dreams.</p>
|
||
<p>It dreams of being bound in stone and buried in the earth.
|
||
It dreams of liquid, roiling fire belching noxious gases. And
|
||
of slicing through clouds, flying high in the sky on wings of
|
||
pure thought. It dreams of sinking, plummeting through water
|
||
into the inky blackness below, only to plunge through some
|
||
invisible membrane and find themself weightlessly floating
|
||
suspended in an empty void, alone among the stars.</p>
|
||
<p>END OF INTERLUDE.</p>
|
||
<p>~</p>
|
||
<p>CHAPTER 2: MORE CRYSTALS MORE PROBLEMS</p>
|
||
<p>Having gotten your personal affairs in order, you have
|
||
decided to crack on with your job and check in with your case
|
||
manager.</p>
|
||
<p>So you find yourself once again in a corner booth at Lucy’s
|
||
Basement—the dim, smokey nightclub with red velvet walls and
|
||
delusions of grandeur—with the highly spirited Blavin
|
||
Blandfoot. He laughs uproariously when you tell him about the
|
||
blahoblins and their shoe shine scam. He listens intently when
|
||
you tell him about the gnomes and the kobits. And he trembles
|
||
with delight at hearing how you evaded HORSE and the mighty
|
||
centaur.</p>
|
||
<p>“Well done, well done, well done!” He enthuses, taking
|
||
another sip of his drink. “I must say that the Benefactor is
|
||
<em>very</em> impressed with your performance!</p>
|
||
<p>“You don’t mind that we have other teams in the field, of
|
||
course,” he continues, mentioning the team of gophers.
|
||
“Thought it was prudent to cover our bases since you’re a new,
|
||
untested retrieval team after all. Besides, a little friendly
|
||
competition never hurt anybody, did it? Baw-HAH!” He laughs,
|
||
sloshing his drink.</p>
|
||
<p>He gets out a bunch of business cards, punches each one
|
||
with a small handheld punch, and passes them out to you. Your
|
||
card has a drawing of a small cuckoo clock in the center, its
|
||
face divided into 10 hours. Its two hands reach up to the left
|
||
and right so it looks as though the clock is smiling. Across
|
||
the top it reads “COMPLETE FIVE ASSIGNMENTS AND WIN A FABULOUS
|
||
PRIZE!” and is adorned with festive drawings of hotdogs and
|
||
pool floaties and confetti. It is numbered across the bottom 1
|
||
through 5. Blavin has punched a star-shaped hole through the
|
||
number 1.</p>
|
||
<p>“Now,” Blavin beams, gesturing with his drink. “as for your
|
||
next assignment!”</p>
|
||
<p>He brushes some glasses and plates to the edge of the table
|
||
and rolls out a map.</p>
|
||
<p>Basmentaria is a group of island continents that sits
|
||
between the eastern Sugrin Sea and the western Saldin Sea.</p>
|
||
<p>There is Primora, the sparsely populated northern somewhat
|
||
banana-shaped island. The city-state of Illivas, Primora’s
|
||
only densely populated area, sits between Harshwind Glade and
|
||
the mountains of Kelsun Peak.</p>
|
||
<p>And there is your current home, Agendell, the southern also
|
||
slightly banana-shaped island. Its largest city is Vay’Nullar,
|
||
bordered by the Gnomelands to the south, and the Tammineaux
|
||
Forest to the east. Beyond the forest is the Rana’For
|
||
Valley.</p>
|
||
<p>The two crescent-moon islands reach toward each other, and
|
||
in the center is the archipelago of Ginnarak, comprising the
|
||
Cinderlands, Ashen Vale, the Ember Steppe, and Drakspon
|
||
Mountain.</p>
|
||
<p>Blavin jabs a finger at the map. “We have reports of a
|
||
crystal sighting by a salvage crew trying to recover a
|
||
shipwreck at the bottom of the Sugrin Sea.” He then jabs a
|
||
finger at the eastern half of Primora, the upper banana. “And
|
||
we ALSO have reports that the zephynos have found a crystal at
|
||
the top of Kelsun Peak!”</p>
|
||
<p>QUESTIONS:</p>
|
||
<ol type="1">
|
||
<li>DO YOU HAND OVER THE CRYSTAL TO BLAVIN?</li>
|
||
<li>WHICH CRYSTAL DO YOU GO AFTER NEXT?</li>
|
||
<li>DO YOU BEFRIEND THE DUCK?</li>
|
||
</ol>
|
||
<p><a
|
||
href="https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-10/msg00005.html">www</a></p>
|
||
]]>
|
||
</description>
|
||
</item>
|
||
<item>
|
||
<title>31</title>
|
||
<author>dozens@tilde.team (dozens)</author>
|
||
<guid isPermaLink="false">31 - Mon, 07 Nov 2022 08:16:11
|
||
-0700</guid>
|
||
<pubDate>Mon, 07 Nov 2022 08:16:14 -0700</pubDate>
|
||
<description>
|
||
<![CDATA[
|
||
<h3 id="00031">00031</h3>
|
||
<blockquote>
|
||
<p>Inky follows behind the merbear at a healthy 2 meters’
|
||
distance away in the bubblebee, the headlights illuminating a
|
||
moderate distance ahead of the distraught bear as it darts
|
||
after its brother.</p>
|
||
<p>As the merbear homes in on the tardigrade near the ship
|
||
deck, Inky keeps a lookout for any signs of movement or
|
||
tentacles from behind or below the shipwreck. The bubblebee’s
|
||
headlights cast an eerie shadow from the ship’s double masts
|
||
even as it partly lights up the rim of a gaping hole in the
|
||
hull.</p>
|
||
</blockquote>
|
||
<p>The tardigrade, still tucked into a ball, lands on the ship
|
||
deck with a gentle thud. It rolls a couple of times and
|
||
finally comes to rest against the rigging. The merbear reaches
|
||
it a moment later and cradles its jelly-like body gently in
|
||
its bear arms. “My brother!” it cries. “My dear bear
|
||
brother!”</p>
|
||
<p>The tardigrade slowly uncurls and stretches out and looks
|
||
around, disoriented and bleary-eyed. It waggles its eight arms
|
||
around experimentally, closes and opens its claws as though
|
||
kneading the water. “Brother?” says the merbear in
|
||
astonishment.</p>
|
||
<p>“I am okay brother!” says the tardigrade. “We water bears
|
||
are very hardy and resilient! It will take more than a mere
|
||
other worldly tentacle attack and an arcane electric blast to
|
||
do me in!”</p>
|
||
<p>While the bears are having their teary-eyed reunion, you
|
||
sense movement in the shadows deep in the ocean trench, over
|
||
which protrude the ship’s masts. Your lights don’t penetrate
|
||
the darkness enough to see what it was. But it was large. The
|
||
very stuff that thalassophobia is made of.</p>
|
||
<p>You also think you see a flash of gold as the light of the
|
||
bubblebee reflects off of something inside the ship through
|
||
the hole in the hull. Could it be the second Ginnarak
|
||
Crystal?</p>
|
||
<p>The breach in the hull is easily large enough to admit a
|
||
medium sized creature such as an inkling in a bubblebee
|
||
apparatus. Or a sysorcer or a lanky old half-devil tavern
|
||
owner.</p>
|
||
<p>WHAT DO YOU DO</p>
|
||
<p><a
|
||
href="https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-11/msg00056.html">www</a></p>
|
||
]]>
|
||
</description>
|
||
</item>
|
||
<item>
|
||
<title>21</title>
|
||
<author>dozens@tilde.team (dozens)</author>
|
||
<guid isPermaLink="false">21 - Wed, 05 Oct 2022 07:21:55
|
||
-0600</guid>
|
||
<pubDate>Wed, 05 Oct 2022 07:21:55 -0600</pubDate>
|
||
<description>
|
||
<![CDATA[
|
||
<h3 id="00021">00021</h3>
|
||
<p>INTERLUDE</p>
|
||
<blockquote>
|
||
<p>A glorious victory!</p>
|
||
<p>In the interim time Corraidhin studies the sword of Y’aml,
|
||
and correctly deduces that he needs to remove the sticky bit
|
||
to be able to sheath the thing.</p>
|
||
<p>sudo chmod -t sword_of_y'aml</p>
|
||
<p>The rest of the interim is spent studying arcane lore
|
||
surrounding the Ginnarak Crystals and their purpose. He also
|
||
strongly urges the party that we should consider very carefuly
|
||
how we need to proceed with the crystal. It’s obvious people
|
||
don’t want these things getting out, so we should ensure that
|
||
Blavin has good intentions, or at least leaves us out of
|
||
whatever potential evil could occur.</p>
|
||
</blockquote>
|
||
<p>Corraidhin prepares the incantation and, after removing the
|
||
sticky bit, is able pry his stiff fingers from the grip.</p>
|
||
<p>You sheathe the blade, but its voice continues to ring
|
||
clearly in your head as it prattles on, seeing evil and
|
||
villainy everywhere and encouraging you to stab, stab,
|
||
stab.</p>
|
||
<p>Your sysorcerous studies, confirmed by the eager and
|
||
forthright sword, suggest that the blade will be able to rest
|
||
for a while once it tastes blood.</p>
|
||
<p>Your former mentor and rival sysorceror Eccentric Kevin
|
||
calls on you one day under the pretense of showing you the
|
||
latest draft of KDL (pronounced “cuddle”), their own “Kevin’s
|
||
Document Language”, an alternative syntax for incantations and
|
||
personal pet project of theirs that has thus far failed, much
|
||
to their perpetual consternation, to gain any traction or
|
||
adoption in the wider magic community. They are insufferably
|
||
polite and sinisterly supportive. They complain about how the
|
||
obstinant gnus keep standing in the middle of the road trying
|
||
to block traffic, and they demand to know all about your
|
||
recent exploits and adventures.</p>
|
||
<blockquote>
|
||
<p>Once back in town, Inky had the small glass shard in their
|
||
palm removed by a harried-looking healer, who merely shrugged
|
||
at Inky’s account of the disappearing ink and advised them to
|
||
return if they experienced adverse effects before hurrying off
|
||
to the next patient. A visit to the local stationery shop did
|
||
not yield any answers; the stocky human at the counter shook
|
||
their head apologetically when shown the broken ink bottle.
|
||
However, they did suggest asking at one of the larger shops in
|
||
the city.</p>
|
||
<p>To celebrate their first successful quest, Inky made
|
||
torties[1] for their party with flour ground from some of the
|
||
large corn kernels at the dig site, topped with a sweet nutty
|
||
squash spread. Babbleberry tea was served from their newly
|
||
acquired jade tea set, now patched with what Inky had been
|
||
assured was an unbreakable seal[2] by a merchant with a toothy
|
||
grin in one of Vay’Nullar’s notorious back alleys.</p>
|
||
<p>Master Corraidhín’s cautionary words of wisdom still echo
|
||
in Inky’s head, though they were secretly tickled by the idea
|
||
of the crystal being actually a rare and previously unknown
|
||
species of melon with very potent magical properties. The very
|
||
thought of melons was making Inky a bit thirsty. Let the
|
||
warrior and wizard worry about all the potential evils of the
|
||
world — it’s time for a dash to the market for some beatfruit
|
||
juice!</p>
|
||
<hr />
|
||
<p>[1] Also known as torte-teas, as in “Torte-tea, yas?”,
|
||
which was how their previous ink maestro used to greet
|
||
customers entering the brewery. Flat little tea cakes with
|
||
sugar or spice (or both, which vary by region) and sometimes
|
||
eaten in a loose wrap. Some humans called them “crabs” for
|
||
some reason which baffled Inky, since the torties had no
|
||
pincers … at least none that they could see anyway.</p>
|
||
<p>[2] The seal attached to the bottom of the teapot and each
|
||
cup had a glyph of an unknown object between two hands.</p>
|
||
</blockquote>
|
||
<p>The healer removes a small glass bead from Inky’s palm. It
|
||
is worn smooth and round like a marble. If you look closely,
|
||
you can see a small blemish in the center that somewhat
|
||
resembles either a duck or a rabbit depending on how you
|
||
orient it.</p>
|
||
<p>It is captivating to look at and comforting to hold in your
|
||
hand. You fidget with it often. Now and then you suddenly
|
||
notice you have been gazing at it for some minutes without
|
||
realizing it.</p>
|
||
<p>You make your party a delightful meal of torties, serving
|
||
tea from the magically reinforced jade set.</p>
|
||
<p>Cleaning up afterwards, you can’t help but notice the
|
||
patterns of the tea leaves in the bottoms of the jade
|
||
cups.</p>
|
||
<p>YOU FORESEE AN OMEN FOR THE PARTY. WHAT IS IT?</p>
|
||
<p>You dash to the market for beatfruit juice, which you
|
||
easily find. And you find yourself irrationally drawn to the
|
||
produce. The kale, dandelion greens, and beans all look
|
||
especially scrumptious and … plump and juicy?</p>
|
||
<p>An old toothy market attendant sits on a stool by the
|
||
vegetable stand reading the Farmers Almanac. Unsolicited, they
|
||
mention to you that it is only three days until the next full
|
||
moon.</p>
|
||
<blockquote>
|
||
<p>Jarrod has two things in particular he wants to do when
|
||
back in town, with whatever his cut of the gold is. First, he
|
||
wants to go looking for a cheap, run-down building somewhere
|
||
in town and buy the property if he has enough money (perhaps
|
||
negotiating a bit where necessary).</p>
|
||
<p>Second, he wishes to seek arcane counsel from Corraidhín,
|
||
perhaps getting a small invocation applied to one of the
|
||
charms on his arm band. Something in the realm of a
|
||
fascination spell (with an activation word) that can be used
|
||
on occasion to draw attention.</p>
|
||
<p>Jarrod agrees that we should not invite trouble. We shall
|
||
tread cautiously with regards to the crystals.</p>
|
||
<p>Yum, torties!</p>
|
||
</blockquote>
|
||
<p>After successfully negotiating the price down a little bit,
|
||
you are able to purchase a run-down building. You are now the
|
||
proud owner and proprietor of the Milk Market building in the
|
||
Wandering Bazzar district of downtown Vay’Nullar.</p>
|
||
<p>The ground level is occupied by longtime district staple
|
||
Enrique’s Empanada Emporium, famous for its signature stuffed
|
||
pastries and its Terrapin Ale, brewed on site by Enrique
|
||
himself, who happens to be a very large humanoid turtle.</p>
|
||
<p>It’s a little seedy and a little divey, but still draws a
|
||
fair amount of foot traffic from shoppers waiting for the
|
||
eponymous, ambulatory bazaar of debatable sentience to wander
|
||
by. Reliably, a small gang of breadpunks can be found
|
||
loitering here and espousing the virtues of social anarchy.
|
||
Enrique allows their presence and on occasion even buys them a
|
||
round of ale.</p>
|
||
<p>The top two levels are unoccupied. Years upon years ago,
|
||
this space once held large vats for storing and preserving
|
||
multibeast milk prior to being distributed. Some enterprising
|
||
individual converted and updated the space some time ago, but
|
||
was never able to find a tenant. In any case, the space is
|
||
yours now to do with what you will.</p>
|
||
<p>With Corraidhin’s assistance, you are able to enchant your
|
||
armband by inscribing it with a cross-like glyph with a
|
||
teardrop-shaped loop in place of the vertical upper bar. You
|
||
now have a FASCINATING BANGLE that can, upon activation,
|
||
compel attention and even potentially inspire people to dance
|
||
about.</p>
|
||
<p>WHAT DO YOU DO</p>
|
||
<p><a
|
||
href="https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-10/msg00001.html">www</a></p>
|
||
]]>
|
||
</description>
|
||
</item>
|
||
<item>
|
||
<title>24</title>
|
||
<author>dozens@tilde.team (dozens)</author>
|
||
<guid isPermaLink="false">24 - Sat, 22 Oct 2022 13:43:40
|
||
-0600</guid>
|
||
<pubDate>Sat, 22 Oct 2022 13:43:40 -0600</pubDate>
|
||
<description>
|
||
<![CDATA[
|
||
<h3 id="00024">00024</h3>
|
||
<blockquote>
|
||
<p><strong>Corraidhin</strong><br />
|
||
Well I’ll be! You can turn yourself into a dagger. And I did
|
||
say we could stab blavin if you could do that, it’s much more
|
||
stealthy this way. But let me posit this, is the act of
|
||
stabbing a hobbit unprovoked not itself evil? Or perhaps more
|
||
convincingly, would it not be better to use the hobbit for
|
||
whatever information he has so as to lead to this mysterious
|
||
benefactor, who most assuredly must be evil.</p>
|
||
<p>Someone who would send out myriads of teams to pillage and
|
||
plunder cultural artifacts is truly evil, that must be our
|
||
target.</p>
|
||
<p>Now this isn’t to say that we won’t stab him. I’m convinced
|
||
that’s probably a good idea in the long run, but we know
|
||
nothing of the true evil that motivates him! We would kill him
|
||
just to lose track of the true evil we must smite!</p>
|
||
<p><strong>Y’aml</strong><br />
|
||
But YOU said if I could turn into a dagger we could STAB him.
|
||
HE’S EVIL. YOU said so! Not keeping your promises IS one step
|
||
away from PURE evil! Make a choice Hardy Bear! Stab the evil
|
||
hobbit, or stab the inkling, or stab SOMETHING evil this
|
||
minute!</p>
|
||
<p><strong>Corraidhin</strong><br />
|
||
I most certainly cannot abide with stabbing Inky, it’s
|
||
entirely off the table. And in a city like this there aren’t
|
||
any evil things that just jump out for the stabbing.</p>
|
||
<p>(Corraidhin tries to silently control Y’aml during the
|
||
discussion. However in so doing the party has fallen silent,
|
||
aghast even)</p>
|
||
<p>Corraidhin stands, Y’aml held in hand, red gem eye gleaming
|
||
a wicked joyful grin as it’s raised high, poised to strike.
|
||
The party around him is silent, and Blavin stares up in shock.
|
||
The tavern around them has died down and you can hear the
|
||
bustle of the proprietor calling for his strong men to deal
|
||
with this ruckus.</p>
|
||
</blockquote>
|
||
<p>The table—and all of Lucy’s Basement within earshot—sits in
|
||
tense, uneasy quiet at Corraidhin’s one-sided conversation
|
||
with the Sword of Yam’L. Blavin giggles nervously and sips his
|
||
martini, willfully forcing himself right up to the very last
|
||
moment to believe that it is all some sort of jest.</p>
|
||
<p>But then the sysorcerer stands and raises the blood crazed
|
||
dagger over his shoulder, and Blavin squeals and writhes in
|
||
his chair. Lucy’s bouncers scramble forward from the corners
|
||
of the room to intercept.</p>
|
||
<blockquote>
|
||
<p><strong>Y’aml</strong><br />
|
||
We STAB Hardy Bear! We STAB NOW!!</p>
|
||
<p>Against Corraidhin’s control, as though he’s in a trance,
|
||
the dagger comes down. A swift stabbing motion strqight to the
|
||
neck, as he lunges across the table at Blavin knocking the map
|
||
and his martini to the side.</p>
|
||
</blockquote>
|
||
<!--
|
||
Bloodlust 3 to Stabble Stabble
|
||
1 2 4: Partial Success
|
||
//-->
|
||
<p>Corraidhin once again feels the same peculiar quality of
|
||
the blade, that sensation of a hollow core with a heavy liquid
|
||
sloshing inside. Held aloft, the weight of it feels
|
||
concentrated at the grip, the blade light as a feather.</p>
|
||
<p>He stabs down—Yam’L cries out in wordless glee—and the
|
||
weight flows into the tip of the blade, the blade itself now
|
||
drawing Corraidhin’s hand downward in a rising crescendo of
|
||
stabbitude.</p>
|
||
<!--
|
||
Do Anything 1 to Resist Bloodlust
|
||
3: Partial Success
|
||
//-->
|
||
<p>Blavin flinches at the last second, and instead of burying
|
||
itself in his throat, the blade plunges into his shoulder and
|
||
pins him to the back of the chair. A red mist fills the eye
|
||
and threatens to cloud it over entirely. It rolls back in
|
||
ecstasy as it drinks deeply. It sings out, “MORE! MORE! MORE!”
|
||
and Corraidhin feels the tides of madness rising inside of
|
||
him, threatening to wash over him wholly, to pull him under
|
||
and carry him away on thundering waves of bloodlust.</p>
|
||
<p>Corraidhin struggles to pull the blade from the chair back.
|
||
Blavin whimpers and mewls as he yanks on it, and clutches his
|
||
wound and, incredibly, takes a large gulp of his drink.</p>
|
||
<p>The sysorcerer still has the wherewithal and the presence
|
||
of mind to be aware of his surroundings. He is not yet so
|
||
overcome by the bloodlust. He sees his companions, his fellow
|
||
residents of the Milk Market, seated around the table. And he
|
||
sees the musclebound bouncers now nearly within reach.</p>
|
||
<p>Finally he draws the dagger. Blavin sinks in his seat and
|
||
slides to the floor with his drink, blabbering incoherently,
|
||
and starts to slither away.</p>
|
||
<p>WHAT DO YOU DO</p>
|
||
<p><a
|
||
href="https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-10/msg00010.html">www</a></p>
|
||
]]>
|
||
</description>
|
||
</item>
|
||
<item>
|
||
<title>25</title>
|
||
<author>dozens@tilde.team (dozens)</author>
|
||
<guid isPermaLink="false">25 - Sun, 23 Oct 2022 09:41:16
|
||
-0600</guid>
|
||
<pubDate>Sun, 23 Oct 2022 09:41:16 -0600</pubDate>
|
||
<description>
|
||
<![CDATA[
|
||
<h3 id="00025">00025</h3>
|
||
<blockquote>
|
||
<p><strong>Corraidhin</strong> Shit, shit shit shit shit shit.
|
||
This is NOT good. Damn it Y’aml what was that? It wasn’t even
|
||
slightly stealthy</p>
|
||
<p><strong>Y’aml</strong> STAB, delightful blood. Stab the
|
||
flesh, tear the skin, pierce the fruit that gives us strength.
|
||
Drink the blood, consume their soul. More more more more more
|
||
more more more more</p>
|
||
<p><strong>Corraidhin (internal thought)</strong> Ugh my head,
|
||
it’s heavy, hurts. Misty and red? I can’t see straight, it’s
|
||
hard to think straight. That blasted sword, I thought for a
|
||
moment it, no, not think, it definitely did move on its own.
|
||
It became lighter and heavier. Pulling against it and it just
|
||
weighs itself down. This little magical bauble is definitely
|
||
cursed..</p>
|
||
<p><strong>Y’aml</strong> CURSED?! Rude Hardy Bear. All we did
|
||
was stab that evil hobbit. And it’s getting away! Stab him
|
||
again, taste his blood! The tavern gaurds are closing in, they
|
||
look like they’re trying to get rid of us, EVIL. Them trying
|
||
to stop us from getting that evil hobbit is EVIL, STAB
|
||
THEM.</p>
|
||
<p>Corraidhin raises his free hand to his head as though
|
||
holding a wound and he groans in dismay as the dagger rises
|
||
again. It travels swiftly down towards Blavin, missing as he
|
||
slithers of the booth. And again, digging deep into the wooden
|
||
seat.</p>
|
||
<p><strong>Y’aml</strong> Disgusting wood, stab the flesh!
|
||
Stab the Hobbit Hardy Bear!</p>
|
||
<p>But Blavin was inching further out of reach towards the
|
||
gaurds. In desperation the dagger begins swinging side to
|
||
side, making furtive slashing moves in the direction of the
|
||
guards. The party is safely behind Corraidhin, but innocent
|
||
patrons and the guards are directly in their sights.</p>
|
||
<p>Corraidhin grabs his other hand and pulls hard, steadying
|
||
the swinging. STOP! I command you you blasted toothpick, STOP.
|
||
You’ve had your fun, now STOP. These people are innocent, this
|
||
man has done us no harm despite his potential “evils”, this is
|
||
entirely uncalled for!</p>
|
||
<p><strong>Y’aml</strong> NO!!! EVIL. STAB. EVIL. STAB. EVIL.
|
||
STAB.</p>
|
||
<p>The dull voice of the magical dagger rises, angry,
|
||
insistent. It consumes the last of Corraidhin’s mental
|
||
strength. All he hears is EVIL. STAB. EVIL. STAB. Yet he
|
||
clings to his spare arm trying desparately to resist. At this
|
||
point the party and the tavern has cleared a wide path around
|
||
the sysorceor as he struggles with himself, mumbling,
|
||
sometimes yelling. EVIL. STAB. EVIL. STAB. NO WE WILL NOT.
|
||
EVIL. INNOCENT. STAB BLOOD DRINK. EVIL. EVIL EVIL EVIL STAB
|
||
IT. MAKE IT BLEED. I WILL NO.. STAB IT. STAB HIM.</p>
|
||
<p>The voice seems to change, it dies down. Not yelling, but
|
||
commanding. Firm, calm, sane.</p>
|
||
<p>Stab them, stab them, make them bleed. Drink the blood,
|
||
consume the soul, free them from their evil being. Stab them,
|
||
stab them… over and over and over, as the sysorceor approaches
|
||
Blavin and the guards with a malevolent look in his ruby red
|
||
eyes.</p>
|
||
</blockquote>
|
||
<p>~</p>
|
||
<blockquote>
|
||
<p>Inky moves to stand next to Blavin and the nightclub
|
||
bouncers. Tossing a tiny “see-eye” container they had borrowed
|
||
from Master Corraidhín at him, Inky looks the sysorceor in the
|
||
eye and says, “You are not your sword.”</p>
|
||
<p>Watching the wizard’s expression, Inky continues, more
|
||
quietly, “If Master Corraidhín truly wishes to end the hobbit,
|
||
a mere imp would not stop him, but likewise, whatever he sets
|
||
his mind to do, a dagger cannot stop him either.”</p>
|
||
</blockquote>
|
||
<p>~</p>
|
||
<blockquote>
|
||
<p>Jarrod steps gently into the fray and activates his
|
||
FASCINATING CHARM, attempting to draw all eyes to him. He
|
||
carefully avoids the wild swinging of the
|
||
once-sword-now-dagger.</p>
|
||
<p>“I think,” he rumbles gently, “we could all use a drink
|
||
over the other end of the room. I’m buying, and I’ll spin you
|
||
all a tale of wonder! A tale of a wanderer, and of a war
|
||
hammer, and the first of their wild battles together!”</p>
|
||
<p>Leaning over to whisper urgently in Corraidhín’s ear:
|
||
“Friend, I do not know what occurs here, but pull yourself
|
||
together. We can later sate our blood lust in more appropriate
|
||
places!” Jarrod lends a sly wink in the sysorcerer’s
|
||
direction, one that promises adventure later.</p>
|
||
</blockquote>
|
||
<p>The tavern guards tense, but pause their advance, as the
|
||
crazed mage’s friends position themselves protectively around
|
||
him and try to placate him. They wouldn’t want to engage a
|
||
master sysorcerer on the best of days, much less one with some
|
||
kind of malevolent blood dagger in the middle of a psychotic
|
||
break. If his compatriots can handle him without them having
|
||
to interfere, all the better.</p>
|
||
<p>The duck waddles up next to Inky and quacks softly,
|
||
pleadingly at Corraidhin. Only the Ornithologer in the corner
|
||
can understand its words when it says, “As your marketing
|
||
manager I must strongly advise against this course of
|
||
action!”</p>
|
||
<p>Seated in the corner next to the Ornithologer is a shaggy
|
||
groll dressed in a dusty, faded poncho and a wide brimmed hat;
|
||
and a greasy, matted gnu, dressed in black ceremonial
|
||
robes.</p>
|
||
<p>The groll discreetly draws its poncho back revealing a
|
||
bandoleer of wands and draws a cracklestick and points it at
|
||
the sysorcer. The wand starts to hum and glow as it charges up
|
||
for a blast.</p>
|
||
<p>The gnu slaps the groll’s wrist, and immediately launches
|
||
into a tirade against the cracklestick’s manufacturer’s
|
||
proprietary spell slotting algorithm, and honestly how can you
|
||
possibly justify your choices when there are open source
|
||
alternatives available?</p>
|
||
<p>The groll rolls its eyes, obviously having been on the
|
||
receiving end of this particular lecture before, and tries to
|
||
slap away the gnu’s grasping hands. The ensuing scuffle
|
||
threatens to turn this powder keg of a situation into a full
|
||
blown conflagration until Jarrod actives his FASCINATING
|
||
CHARM, commanding the attention of the entire room.</p>
|
||
<p>The gnu freezes with its hands around the groll’s throat.
|
||
The groll halts with fists full of the gnu’s beard. A grub
|
||
smoking a hookah pauses with the mouthpiece raised to its
|
||
pursed lips. A distracted waitress on roller skates crashes
|
||
right into the bar.</p>
|
||
<blockquote>
|
||
<p>As though in a trance Corraidhin continues to yell STAB.
|
||
THEM. STAB. IT. cutting wildly at the air before him. As Inky
|
||
whispers to him his expression changes, first a grimace, then
|
||
a whimper. As Jarrod leads the patrons away from the sysorceor
|
||
he begins to tremble and cower away from himself, away from
|
||
everyone. His ruby red eyes dart back and forth between his
|
||
friends and the patrons, like a frightened animal searching
|
||
for an escape. He pulls the dagger into himself, as though
|
||
sheilding it from his surroundings.</p>
|
||
<p>What.. what’s going on, he mutters feebly to himself.
|
||
Everything is a blurr. Uncertain of where he is or what’s
|
||
going on, Corraidhin thumbs the dagger, caressing the large
|
||
ruby embedded in the hilt. Y’aml, you’re still here, good
|
||
good, the syscoreor croons.</p>
|
||
<p>Standing up straight his eyes lock with Jarrod as the Bard
|
||
glances over his shoulder, momentarily distracted from his
|
||
oration, worried about his companion.</p>
|
||
<p>I.. ugh, Corraidhin grabs his head as though in pain, and
|
||
collapses to the floor.</p>
|
||
</blockquote>
|
||
<p>Corraidhin hits the floor and the dagger, now bereft of the
|
||
well of emotion it had been drawing from, grows still. The eye
|
||
closes and it seems to sigh happily. “Good job, Hardy Bear.
|
||
You have spilled the blood of evil.” And it sleeps, inert,
|
||
lifeless.</p>
|
||
<p>Corraidhin is on the ground cradling the dagger.</p>
|
||
<p>Most of the patrons are still fascinated by Jarrod.</p>
|
||
<p>Blavin is squirming around on the floor gibbering about
|
||
reassigning your case.</p>
|
||
<p>The duck has found a toppled plate of corn chips and is
|
||
happily snacking away.</p>
|
||
<p>You feel like your welcome at Lucy’s Basement has been, for
|
||
the moment, overstayed.</p>
|
||
<p>WHAT DO YOU DO</p>
|
||
<p><a
|
||
href="https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-10/msg00015.html">www</a></p>
|
||
]]>
|
||
</description>
|
||
</item>
|
||
<item>
|
||
<title>35</title>
|
||
<author>dozens@tilde.team (dozens)</author>
|
||
<guid isPermaLink="false">35 - Wed, 09 Nov 2022 12:34:03
|
||
-0700</guid>
|
||
<pubDate>Thu, 10 Nov 2022 21:49:20 -0700</pubDate>
|
||
<description>
|
||
<![CDATA[
|
||
<h3 id="00035">00035</h3>
|
||
<blockquote>
|
||
<p>Shouting in the direction of the grampus “Yo! That dude is
|
||
definitely going to forget us. We’re almost the definition of
|
||
forgettable, I mean it’s not like we’re some kind of murderous
|
||
hobos or something!”</p>
|
||
<p>While shouting Corraidhin takes aim, and slings his magic
|
||
missing at the figure, aiming for a kill. (Meta: I’d like to
|
||
spend that xp now, lets take this sucker down).</p>
|
||
<p>After the missile flies loose the skeleton begins to pull
|
||
Corraidhin back into the hull of the ship, he kicks
|
||
desperately at the boney clutches desperately trying to break
|
||
free.</p>
|
||
<p>“I always knew I’d go out fighting some undead spooky
|
||
thing. If you don’t become a necromancer, you end up some
|
||
necromancers thrall.” at least, that’s what Kevin used to tell
|
||
me. I always thought he was being melodramatic.</p>
|
||
<p>As the skeleton drags Corraidhin back through the hatch he
|
||
grabs the dagger, in a vein attempt to ready himself.</p>
|
||
<p>“I guess this is it my Stabby friend, time to show these
|
||
Skeletons what happens when you back a Sysorceor into a
|
||
corner”</p>
|
||
<p>And with that Corraidhin activates his fork bomb.</p>
|
||
</blockquote>
|
||
<p>~</p>
|
||
<blockquote>
|
||
<p>While feeding their jellyfish bites of wasabi pear and
|
||
watching the sysorcerer investigate the hull, Inky eventually
|
||
notices movement in the direction of the ship’s deck in the
|
||
form of a figure crawling out of the hatch with a bundle. Inky
|
||
squints at the retreating form. Could it be another retrieval
|
||
team, or a rogue agent? Master Corraidhín would probably not
|
||
be pleased if the crystal melon were to fall into unknown
|
||
hands, never mind of those whose names don’t start with the
|
||
letter “B” and end in the letter “r”.</p>
|
||
<p>Sparing a brief second to lament the waste of a perfectly
|
||
good snack, Inky reaches into their bag and lobs a spiky
|
||
chestnut cluster at the figure’s breathing bell from the
|
||
opening of their bubblebee, followed by a glass bottle of
|
||
blahoblin shoe polish. The glass shatters on impact, sending
|
||
the dark, sticky and somewhat pungent substance all over the
|
||
figure’s (punctured) breathing bell and face.</p>
|
||
<p>As Inky’s bubblebee floats up a little closer to the
|
||
figure, Inky tosses a smaller bottle at the figure, this time
|
||
of some synthetic blood from another brick that Inky had set
|
||
aside for experiments of a different sort. At the last moment
|
||
the thruster accelerates, Inky throws their paring knife at
|
||
the bundle where the cord hugged the figure’s waist, before
|
||
veering away just as quickly as the horkosgrampus nearby catch
|
||
a whiff of the blood.</p>
|
||
</blockquote>
|
||
<p><strong>RETCON</strong>: It has been brought to our
|
||
attention that the <code>scp</code> spell does not
|
||
<em>move</em> an entity, but merely copies it from one
|
||
location to another. As such, the original merbear and
|
||
tardigrade are still on the deck of the SS RSS. Their
|
||
facsimiles are present near where Inky used to be.</p>
|
||
<p>Okay so two extremely interesting and complicated things
|
||
happen all at once and in quick succession. It’s very chaotic
|
||
and explosive and cinematic.</p>
|
||
<p>THING THE FIRST</p>
|
||
<p>Corraidhín aims his shootin’ finger—the one that
|
||
resolutely, emphatically mashes the Enter key when deploying
|
||
to production—at the floaty thief. The very same second he
|
||
fires off the magic missile, he sees the figure jerk as a
|
||
small projectile first punctures its jellyfish helmet and then
|
||
coats its entire cranial area in black ink.</p>
|
||
<p>It screams, “Aw, fuck!”</p>
|
||
<p>The breathing bell is having none of this shit, thank you
|
||
very much, and detaches itself from the figure’s head and
|
||
starts to propel itself away. As such, the figure no longer
|
||
has access to breathable air.</p>
|
||
<p>It screams, “No, wait!”</p>
|
||
<p>And then a fine blade juts out from the bubblebee severing
|
||
the cord connecting the floating bundle to the would-be thief.
|
||
The blade scoops out a hunk of flesh from the thief’s hip in
|
||
the process.</p>
|
||
<p>It screams, “Ouch! Stop, I wasn’t going to…”</p>
|
||
<p>The horkosgrampus—kind of lazily drifting about thus
|
||
far—stir from complacency at the first scent of blood. But
|
||
they snap to ravenous attention at the first utterance of a
|
||
possible lie.</p>
|
||
<p>Finally (an instant later) the magic missile strikes its
|
||
target and the thief splatters like a wet paper bag full of
|
||
soup hitting the ground.</p>
|
||
<p>It sputters and coughs and screams, “I wasn’t going to!
|
||
Please, you can have it! I wasn’t going to take it! I don’t
|
||
even want it! It’s yours!”</p>
|
||
<p>And the horkosgrampus fucking lose their minds. They stop
|
||
being mere toothy scavenger whales, and instead become the
|
||
ravenous, wrathful instruments of the god of oaths and
|
||
promises. They descend upon the liar in a fury of teeth and
|
||
tusks. First Mate “Lucky” Three-Fingered Gerald cackles with
|
||
depraved, unhinged mirth as he is torn to shreds. In the end a
|
||
single golden orb—his false eye—is all that is left of the
|
||
would-be thief of the second Ginnarak Crystal.</p>
|
||
<p>The eye and the crystal slowly emerge from the
|
||
horkosgrampus frenzy, hovering suspended above the harrowkrake
|
||
trench.</p>
|
||
<p>THING THE SECOND</p>
|
||
<p>Remember there are two extremely interesting and
|
||
complicated things happening all at once?</p>
|
||
<p>The second thing is this.</p>
|
||
<p>First, Corraidhín lets loose his magic missile at
|
||
Three-Fingered Gerald. Then, as he is being pulled down by the
|
||
undead pirate skeleton, he lets loose a fork bomb.</p>
|
||
<p>The fork bomb is also known as a ‘rabbit attack’ because
|
||
the rapidity with which it spawns new processes resembles the
|
||
fecundity of breeding rabbits.</p>
|
||
<p>So here’s what it looks like. The skeleton pulls Corraidhín
|
||
downward. Corraidhín points and clicks. Pew, pew. A single
|
||
small sea bunny slug wriggles its way between the skeleton’s
|
||
fingers where it has a hold of the sysorcerer’s ankle. Another
|
||
two wriggle out. Then four, eight, sixteen. In an instant
|
||
there are dozens, hundreds, thousands, millions of the tiny
|
||
slugs in the hold of the ship.</p>
|
||
<p>Everything, every living entity, every process, light and
|
||
sound and thought itself, it all grinds to a halt as the sea
|
||
bunnies continue to multiply until billions and trillions of
|
||
them squeeze and burrow their way amongst molecules, betwixt
|
||
atoms, and into the quantum foam between subatomic
|
||
particles.</p>
|
||
<p>The ship and everything on it and inside it—including the
|
||
original merbear and tardigrade—collapse into a singularity.
|
||
It continues to exist in this moment in space and time but
|
||
only as a static snapshot of the moment that its operating
|
||
system crashed. It is a mirage, a core memory dump, a
|
||
segmentation fault, a flickering feedback loop, the same two
|
||
to three seconds endlessly repeating: Corraidhín backed into a
|
||
corner, and pointing a finger at a skeleton, and then BANG!
|
||
over and over and over again.</p>
|
||
<p>Corraidhín, you can continue to act and move, but your have
|
||
become unhinged and unattached from this moment in space and
|
||
time. You can interact with entities inside the ship, but will
|
||
struggle mightily to comprehend and interact with entities
|
||
outside the fork bomb.</p>
|
||
<p>Outside observers see the SS RSS become paper thin and
|
||
translucent as it starts to lose its footing in this plane of
|
||
reality.</p>
|
||
<p>WHAT DO YOU DO</p>
|
||
<p><a
|
||
href="https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-11/msg00080.html">www</a></p>
|
||
]]>
|
||
</description>
|
||
</item>
|
||
<item>
|
||
<title>34</title>
|
||
<author>dozens@tilde.team (dozens)</author>
|
||
<guid isPermaLink="false">34 - Wed, 09 Nov 2022 11:43:05
|
||
-0700</guid>
|
||
<pubDate>Wed, 09 Nov 2022 11:43:08 -0700</pubDate>
|
||
<description>
|
||
<![CDATA[
|
||
<h3 id="00034">00034</h3>
|
||
<blockquote>
|
||
<p>Fuck, skeletons? This is ridiculous, I did not sign up for
|
||
underwater pirate skeletons.</p>
|
||
<p>Reacting quickly Corraidhin prepares a fork bomb, if the
|
||
skeletons are going to take him out, he’s going to take out
|
||
those skeletons too.</p>
|
||
<pre><code>#!/bin/sh
|
||
:(){
|
||
:|:&
|
||
};:</code></pre>
|
||
<p>Hopefully I won’t have to use that. Corraidhin hoists
|
||
himself up into the opening and begins targetting the
|
||
skeletons one by one. No time for much fancy preparation here,
|
||
just good old fashioned magic missiles strewn about the
|
||
interior of the hull. While so doing Corraidhin glances around
|
||
the treasure strewn hull, searching for the crystal, can’t
|
||
blow the whole ship up if the prize is here.</p>
|
||
<p>Then again, a magical item that powerful, could probably
|
||
withstand a fork bomb pretty easily. It’s worth the risk if
|
||
things get worse.</p>
|
||
<p>Corraidhin ensures his back is to the opening, able to make
|
||
a haphazard escape should the skeletons get the better of
|
||
him.</p>
|
||
</blockquote>
|
||
<!--
|
||
Roll Do Anything 1 for magic missiles = 5
|
||
success at cost
|
||
//-->
|
||
<p>You prep your fork bomb to keep in your back pocket as a
|
||
last resort.</p>
|
||
<p>In the meantime you start blasting skeletons. They maintain
|
||
a slow advance but you able to pick them off slowly one by
|
||
one. Bones splinter and fly apart.</p>
|
||
<p>During your maneuvering, you get turned around and are
|
||
backed into the corner with the hatch leading up to the upper
|
||
deck. You reach behind yourself and fumble with the latch. One
|
||
skeleton manages to get its bony claws around your ankle just
|
||
as you open the hatch. You look behind you and see a human
|
||
shaped figure floating away, illuminated in the beams of
|
||
Inky’s bubblebee. It is toting a small bundle. Up above you
|
||
can see the shadow of the manta ray gliding around eating
|
||
candy, and the horkosgrampus idling in the absence of carrion
|
||
or lies.</p>
|
||
<p>“I thank ye, gents!” cries the figure down to you as it
|
||
ascends. “You distracted the harrowkrake just long enough for
|
||
me to get in that ship and grab what I needs!” It tugs on the
|
||
cord attached to its bundle and laughs. “I shan’t forget ye!”
|
||
It waves and gives a little salute.</p>
|
||
<p>You have a magic missile loaded and ready to go. In a
|
||
moment the figure will be out of range. You can blast it now
|
||
and risk being pulled down by the skeleton. Or you can blast
|
||
the skeleton and risk the figure getting away.</p>
|
||
<p>WHAT DO YOU DO</p>
|
||
<p><a
|
||
href="https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-11/msg00070.html">www</a></p>
|
||
]]>
|
||
</description>
|
||
</item>
|
||
<item>
|
||
<title>30</title>
|
||
<author>dozens@tilde.team (dozens)</author>
|
||
<guid isPermaLink="false">30 - Sat, 05 Nov 2022 12:51:43
|
||
-0600</guid>
|
||
<pubDate>Sat, 05 Nov 2022 12:51:49 -0600</pubDate>
|
||
<description>
|
||
<![CDATA[
|
||
<h3 id="00030">00030</h3>
|
||
<blockquote>
|
||
<p>Inky flips backwards and up, narrowly avoiding the
|
||
tentacles’ grasp. From their courier bag they shake out an
|
||
inflatable bubblebee[1] of the sort made for aquatic camping.
|
||
It is one of the fancier models provided to each member of
|
||
their party courtesy of the well-endowed Benefactor. They yank
|
||
on one of the cords and scramble inside, hastily closing the
|
||
flap as the bubblebee rapidly draws in water and fills out to
|
||
its full size.</p>
|
||
<p>The bubblebee rises as Inky pulls on the flippers and
|
||
allows the drifter to buoy the bubble upwards, a bat from the
|
||
end of one tentacle sending the bubblebee forward a short
|
||
distance before it slows above the flailing tentacles. Inky
|
||
switches on the lights to try to get a clearer view of the
|
||
source of the tentacles.</p>
|
||
<p>[1] Specific features of bubblebees vary among makers, but
|
||
they generally have a transparent or translucent spherical
|
||
body, a pair of small translucent wings that act as flippers,
|
||
an opening flap at the back with a short rudder attached, and
|
||
two cords inside at the front near the top which when pulled
|
||
inflate the bubble with the surrounding air or water. Premium
|
||
versions might also include headlights, a buzzer, built-in
|
||
filtration, improved insulation, a drifter and thruster. Like
|
||
tents they come in various sizes, from small ones that can fit
|
||
one or two people at average elven height, to larger ones for
|
||
group outings. Their portability and rugged durability make
|
||
them very popular among tourists and campers who can enjoy a
|
||
range of water sports, such as water walking on the surface,
|
||
riding the bubble down river rapids, or bobbing along
|
||
underwater to watch the sea life wander by.</p>
|
||
</blockquote>
|
||
<p>Inky climbs into the inflatable bubblebee just in the nick
|
||
of time. A tentacle bats them a short distance away, and then
|
||
the apparatus’s lights cut on and illuminate the murky
|
||
water.</p>
|
||
<p>You see the tentacles recede into the depths into, from
|
||
this distance, what looks like the outline of a shipwreck.</p>
|
||
<p>At the moment, you are out of reach of the tentacles. And
|
||
the bubblebee affords you some extra maneuverability.</p>
|
||
<blockquote>
|
||
<p>Corraidhin eyes inky as they drift away in their bubblebee.
|
||
“hmm a wonderful idea, that seems safe, but I need to get in
|
||
closer.”</p>
|
||
<p>While Inky drifts away Corraidhin swims down and towards
|
||
the tentacles to get a better view of whatever creature stole
|
||
his new found bear friends. “I simply cannot bear any harm to
|
||
come to my bears!” As he approaches the creature he prepares a
|
||
spell should he need to vanquish the monster.</p>
|
||
<pre><code>(fn vanquish [target]
|
||
(match target.state
|
||
[:living] (searing-bolt {target target
|
||
radius "narrow"
|
||
intensity "high"})
|
||
[:undead] (smite {target target
|
||
deity "Larani"}))) </code></pre>
|
||
</blockquote>
|
||
<p>Corraidhin charges up a spell!</p>
|
||
<p>The tentacles pull your dear bear friends downward, and you
|
||
struggle to get a view of whatever creature is abducting
|
||
them.</p>
|
||
<p>The long, slender tentacles appear to originate from within
|
||
or behind a large sunken ship!</p>
|
||
<p>Could it be the SS RSS?</p>
|
||
<blockquote>
|
||
<p>Gabs was stunned by the majesty of the two bears, and upon
|
||
seeing these two beautiful creatures be pulled down, got
|
||
unreasonably angry. She made sure that the breathing bell was
|
||
properly attached to her head (a marvelous thing, she thought.
|
||
She had always wondered what it would be like to have a
|
||
jellyfish on her head).</p>
|
||
<p>Gabs bundled and tied up her skirt, as she started to bolt
|
||
toward the edge of the ship. She reached into her purse and
|
||
moved away all the loose candy and pulled out two long
|
||
stiletto daggers. She begins stabbing with unusual precision
|
||
at the tentacles reaching up on the ship.</p>
|
||
<p>She yells, “Come’on y’all! We gotta save those babies!”</p>
|
||
<p>She dives in.</p>
|
||
</blockquote>
|
||
<p>Prior to the incident, Gabs would have noticed that there
|
||
was a very slight, wobbly weight to the jellyfish. Kind of
|
||
like getting a gentle hug from a helmet of warm spaghetti.</p>
|
||
<p>Some loose candy floats up and away as you rummage through
|
||
your purse, the brightly colored wrappers attracting the
|
||
attention of a curious passing manta ray. It glides over and
|
||
has a nibble.</p>
|
||
<p>You fetch your stiletto daggers and start stabbing at the
|
||
long, slender tentacles. Your unusual precision causes the
|
||
tentacles to coil and retreat, releasing the merbear in the
|
||
process. It shouts through its tears, “My brother!” and dives
|
||
back into the fray, fighting to free the tardigrade.</p>
|
||
<p>From here, you can see that the tentacles seem to come from
|
||
the wreckage of a large ship lying on its side on ocean
|
||
floor.</p>
|
||
<p><strong>META</strong>: Gabs rolls a 6 on “Do Anything 1”
|
||
and gains a new skill: Stabbing 2</p>
|
||
<blockquote>
|
||
<p>Seeing his new comrade enter the fray heroically Corraidhin
|
||
gathers himself. “I suppose this is no time for errant
|
||
curiosity, can’t have anyone getting hurt after all.”</p>
|
||
<p>Ensuring that he doesn’t hit either Inky nor Gabs as they
|
||
near the creature, Corraidhin throws the spell he prepared in
|
||
the direction of the center of the tentacles. (vanquish
|
||
“tentacles”) And releases a pinpoint thread of searing energy
|
||
from his palm, guiding it through the mass of tentacles in a
|
||
random and chaotic pattern, attempting to sever as many
|
||
tentacles as possible.</p>
|
||
<p>As that goes on the sysercoerr calculates his retreat plan,
|
||
he won’t be able to prepare another spell like that on the
|
||
fly, far too meticulous work to do mid combat. As soon as the
|
||
spell runs out, best case will be to retreat somewhere out of
|
||
reach, or as far away as is possible there.</p>
|
||
</blockquote>
|
||
<p>Corraidhín takes careful aim fires off a searing bolt into
|
||
the center of the mass of squirming, reaching tentacles. The
|
||
bolt of energy bounces from tentacle to tentacle creating a
|
||
chaotic web of energy.</p>
|
||
<p>One of the final bolts of energy pierces the tentacle that
|
||
happens to be gripping the tardigrade. It releases the water
|
||
bear, but not before the tardigrade takes the full brunt of
|
||
the final blast of the dying searing bolt. It cries out and
|
||
curls up into a ball. Motionless, it starts sinking downward.
|
||
“BROTHER!” the merbear swims after it heedless of any nearby
|
||
danger.</p>
|
||
<p>A wayward crackle of energy blasts outward toward a giant
|
||
manta ray happily crunching on a piece of hard candy. It flaps
|
||
out of the way at the last minute and continues to angrily
|
||
enjoy its candy, glaring at you quite indignantly.</p>
|
||
<p><strong>META</strong>: Corraidhín rolls a 2 for “Do
|
||
Anything 1”, which means things go bad, and gains 1 xp for a
|
||
total of 1 xp. You can spend xp to turn any die into a six for
|
||
the purpose of advancement.</p>
|
||
<blockquote>
|
||
<p>While Master Corraidhín and Gabs confront the tentacles to
|
||
rescue the bears, Inky looks around the sea floor. Maybe if
|
||
they found suitable replacements for the bears, the tentacles
|
||
might be distracted long enough to release the bears, or
|
||
provide an opening advantage for one of their party?</p>
|
||
<p>A small distance from the fray, Inky finds a load of
|
||
discarded bottles among a large pile of other trash carried
|
||
there by the push and pull between the water currents and a
|
||
hot spring. Gathering up some bottles, Inky ties them together
|
||
with twine in singles and small clusters until they resemble
|
||
two large, crudely-made multi-coloured tanokuma[1].</p>
|
||
<p>With some difficulty due to the additional weight, Inky
|
||
attaches the tanokuma to the back of their bubblebee and drags
|
||
them back above the tentacles, roughly near the spot where the
|
||
previous bears were taken. When the valiant members of their
|
||
party dive to one side for another strike, Inky loosens the
|
||
rope around the “bears” and lets them sink down within reach
|
||
of the tentacles.</p>
|
||
<p>[1] First featured in the garden play <em>Teatime with
|
||
Tanokuma</em>, the fluffy purple, jam-grabbing, tea-guzzling
|
||
bear became an overnight hit among children as well as the
|
||
fashion-conscious youth who frequent the trendy “Shin-ku”
|
||
district of Vay’Nullar.</p>
|
||
</blockquote>
|
||
<p>The decoy tanokuma float above the tentacles as they
|
||
retreat from Gabs’s stabbses and Corraidhin’s bolts. They
|
||
grope about weakly, wrap themselves around the tanokuma, and
|
||
finally withdraw.</p>
|
||
<p>You can now clearly see the wreckage of the SS RSS. The
|
||
tentacles—and whatever beast they belong to—is either within,
|
||
behind, or below the ship. It is definitely <em>ship
|
||
adjacent</em> wherever and whatever it is. The large
|
||
double-masted ship is lying on its side, teetering
|
||
precariously on the edge of a large, deep ocean trench. There
|
||
is a large hole in its hull providing unfettered access to its
|
||
insides.</p>
|
||
<p>The tardigrade is sinking inertly toward the ship deck, and
|
||
the merbear is swimming blindly after it.</p>
|
||
<p>WHAT DO YOU DO</p>
|
||
<p><a
|
||
href="https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-11/msg00043.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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|
||
</channel>
|
||
</rss>
|