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992 lines
58 KiB
XML
<?xml version="1.0" ?>
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<rss version="2.0" xmlns:atom="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom">
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<channel>
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<atom:link href="https://tilde.town/~dozens/quest/rss.xml" rel="self" type="application/rss+xml" />
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<title>BASEMENT QWEST</title>
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<link>https://tilde.town/~dozens/quest/rss.xml</link>
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<description>Friends having ADVENTURES! Huzzah!</description>
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<item>
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<title>26</title>
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<author>dozens@tilde.team (dozens)</author>
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<guid isPermaLink="false">26 - Tue, 25 Oct 2022 08:27:22
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-0600</guid>
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<pubDate>Tue, 25 Oct 2022 08:27:22 -0600</pubDate>
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<description>
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<![CDATA[
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<h3 id="00026">00026</h3>
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<blockquote>
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<p>Inky slowly approaches Master Corraidhín and taps lightly
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on the sleeve of his robes to get his attention. Between
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Inky’s tugging and Jarrod’s strong, steady hand, they manage
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to hoist the wizard to his feet.</p>
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<p>With a brief glance at the hobbit on the floor then a nod
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to Jarrod, Inky leaves the nightclub with the wizard. The
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duck, having emptied the plate of corn chips in record time,
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follows them shortly after.</p>
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<p>The trek back to the Milk Market is mostly silent aside
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from the occasional mutter and stumbling curse, the mage
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seemingly having fallen asleep as soon as he landed on the cot
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in the loft. Inky retreats downstairs after leaving a jug of
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water, a mug and a small packet of kuding leaves beside the
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bed.</p>
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<p>Exiting through the back door into the night, Inky finds a
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dark corner in a dusty abandoned house, and cries.</p>
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</blockquote>
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<p>~</p>
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<blockquote>
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<p>” … and then the Orc Maiden said: ‘That’s not my
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club!’”</p>
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<p>The room roars with laughter, and Jarrod moves to the bar
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and puts a bag of coin down. “Serve drinks until this runs
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out!” Leaning over the bar to the bartender, Jarrod adds in a
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whisper: “I owe a favour to Lucy’s Basement for the trouble.
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Call it in when needed.”</p>
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<p>Jarrod saunters over to Blavin, on the floor in pain. From
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his pack, Jarrod retrieves a med kit and begins to bandage the
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wound.</p>
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<p>As Blavin opens his mouth, likely intending to raise all
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kinds of hell, Jarrod pulls tight on the bandage he is
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currently applying, drawing a curse from the hobbit. “Shut it!
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Let’s be clear. You’ve hired us for a dangerous set of jobs,
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with the understanding that we’re dangerous people. There may
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be ‘accidents’ on occasion. You’ve learned something today,
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and what’s more, you lived to absorb your new wisdom.”</p>
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<p>Jarrod grins as he finishes with the bandage. “We will
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finish what we have started. We’re probably the team with the
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best chances, I’m sure you’ll agree. Are you going to back the
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winning play here? Either way, your decision won’t change our
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plans. I’m sure you know how to take the win.”</p>
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<p>Jarrod pats the hobbit’s good shoulder in a friendly, but
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dismissive, way, then turns and saunters out the door, trading
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small quips with his new (and now very drunk) tavern
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friends.</p>
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</blockquote>
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<p>WHAT DO YOU DO</p>
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<p><a
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href="https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-10/msg00015.html">www</a></p>
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]]>
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</description>
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</item>
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<item>
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<title>24</title>
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<author>dozens@tilde.team (dozens)</author>
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<guid isPermaLink="false">24 - Sat, 22 Oct 2022 13:43:40
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-0600</guid>
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<pubDate>Sat, 22 Oct 2022 13:43:40 -0600</pubDate>
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<description>
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<![CDATA[
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<h3 id="00024">00024</h3>
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<blockquote>
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<p><strong>Corraidhin</strong><br />
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Well I’ll be! You can turn yourself into a dagger. And I did
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say we could stab blavin if you could do that, it’s much more
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stealthy this way. But let me posit this, is the act of
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stabbing a hobbit unprovoked not itself evil? Or perhaps more
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convincingly, would it not be better to use the hobbit for
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whatever information he has so as to lead to this mysterious
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benefactor, who most assuredly must be evil.</p>
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<p>Someone who would send out myriads of teams to pillage and
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plunder cultural artifacts is truly evil, that must be our
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target.</p>
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<p>Now this isn’t to say that we won’t stab him. I’m convinced
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that’s probably a good idea in the long run, but we know
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nothing of the true evil that motivates him! We would kill him
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just to lose track of the true evil we must smite!</p>
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<p><strong>Y’aml</strong><br />
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But YOU said if I could turn into a dagger we could STAB him.
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HE’S EVIL. YOU said so! Not keeping your promises IS one step
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away from PURE evil! Make a choice Hardy Bear! Stab the evil
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hobbit, or stab the inkling, or stab SOMETHING evil this
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minute!</p>
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<p><strong>Corraidhin</strong><br />
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I most certainly cannot abide with stabbing Inky, it’s
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entirely off the table. And in a city like this there aren’t
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any evil things that just jump out for the stabbing.</p>
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<p>(Corraidhin tries to silently control Y’aml during the
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discussion. However in so doing the party has fallen silent,
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aghast even)</p>
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<p>Corraidhin stands, Y’aml held in hand, red gem eye gleaming
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a wicked joyful grin as it’s raised high, poised to strike.
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The party around him is silent, and Blavin stares up in shock.
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The tavern around them has died down and you can hear the
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bustle of the proprietor calling for his strong men to deal
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with this ruckus.</p>
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</blockquote>
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<p>The table—and all of Lucy’s Basement within earshot—sits in
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tense, uneasy quiet at Corraidhin’s one-sided conversation
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with the Sword of Yam’L. Blavin giggles nervously and sips his
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martini, willfully forcing himself right up to the very last
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moment to believe that it is all some sort of jest.</p>
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<p>But then the sysorcerer stands and raises the blood crazed
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dagger over his shoulder, and Blavin squeals and writhes in
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his chair. Lucy’s bouncers scramble forward from the corners
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of the room to intercept.</p>
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<blockquote>
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<p><strong>Y’aml</strong><br />
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We STAB Hardy Bear! We STAB NOW!!</p>
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<p>Against Corraidhin’s control, as though he’s in a trance,
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the dagger comes down. A swift stabbing motion strqight to the
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neck, as he lunges across the table at Blavin knocking the map
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and his martini to the side.</p>
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</blockquote>
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<!--
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Bloodlust 3 to Stabble Stabble
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1 2 4: Partial Success
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//-->
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<p>Corraidhin once again feels the same peculiar quality of
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the blade, that sensation of a hollow core with a heavy liquid
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sloshing inside. Held aloft, the weight of it feels
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concentrated at the grip, the blade light as a feather.</p>
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<p>He stabs down—Yam’L cries out in wordless glee—and the
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weight flows into the tip of the blade, the blade itself now
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drawing Corraidhin’s hand downward in a rising crescendo of
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stabbitude.</p>
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<!--
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Do Anything 1 to Resist Bloodlust
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3: Partial Success
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//-->
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<p>Blavin flinches at the last second, and instead of burying
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itself in his throat, the blade plunges into his shoulder and
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pins him to the back of the chair. A red mist fills the eye
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and threatens to cloud it over entirely. It rolls back in
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ecstasy as it drinks deeply. It sings out, “MORE! MORE! MORE!”
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and Corraidhin feels the tides of madness rising inside of
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him, threatening to wash over him wholly, to pull him under
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and carry him away on thundering waves of bloodlust.</p>
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<p>Corraidhin struggles to pull the blade from the chair back.
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Blavin whimpers and mewls as he yanks on it, and clutches his
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wound and, incredibly, takes a large gulp of his drink.</p>
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<p>The sysorcerer still has the wherewithal and the presence
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of mind to be aware of his surroundings. He is not yet so
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overcome by the bloodlust. He sees his companions, his fellow
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residents of the Milk Market, seated around the table. And he
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sees the musclebound bouncers now nearly within reach.</p>
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<p>Finally he draws the dagger. Blavin sinks in his seat and
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slides to the floor with his drink, blabbering incoherently,
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and starts to slither away.</p>
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<p>WHAT DO YOU DO</p>
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<p><a
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href="https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-10/msg00010.html">www</a></p>
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]]>
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</description>
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</item>
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<item>
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<title>21</title>
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<author>dozens@tilde.team (dozens)</author>
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<guid isPermaLink="false">21 - Wed, 05 Oct 2022 07:21:55
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-0600</guid>
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<pubDate>Wed, 05 Oct 2022 07:21:55 -0600</pubDate>
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<description>
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<![CDATA[
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<h3 id="00021">00021</h3>
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<p>INTERLUDE</p>
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<blockquote>
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<p>A glorious victory!</p>
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<p>In the interim time Corraidhin studies the sword of Y’aml,
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and correctly deduces that he needs to remove the sticky bit
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to be able to sheath the thing.</p>
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<p>sudo chmod -t sword_of_y'aml</p>
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<p>The rest of the interim is spent studying arcane lore
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surrounding the Ginnarak Crystals and their purpose. He also
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strongly urges the party that we should consider very carefuly
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how we need to proceed with the crystal. It’s obvious people
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don’t want these things getting out, so we should ensure that
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Blavin has good intentions, or at least leaves us out of
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whatever potential evil could occur.</p>
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</blockquote>
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<p>Corraidhin prepares the incantation and, after removing the
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sticky bit, is able pry his stiff fingers from the grip.</p>
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<p>You sheathe the blade, but its voice continues to ring
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clearly in your head as it prattles on, seeing evil and
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villainy everywhere and encouraging you to stab, stab,
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stab.</p>
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<p>Your sysorcerous studies, confirmed by the eager and
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forthright sword, suggest that the blade will be able to rest
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for a while once it tastes blood.</p>
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<p>Your former mentor and rival sysorceror Eccentric Kevin
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calls on you one day under the pretense of showing you the
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latest draft of KDL (pronounced “cuddle”), their own “Kevin’s
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Document Language”, an alternative syntax for incantations and
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personal pet project of theirs that has thus far failed, much
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to their perpetual consternation, to gain any traction or
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adoption in the wider magic community. They are insufferably
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polite and sinisterly supportive. They complain about how the
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obstinant gnus keep standing in the middle of the road trying
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to block traffic, and they demand to know all about your
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recent exploits and adventures.</p>
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<blockquote>
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<p>Once back in town, Inky had the small glass shard in their
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palm removed by a harried-looking healer, who merely shrugged
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at Inky’s account of the disappearing ink and advised them to
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return if they experienced adverse effects before hurrying off
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to the next patient. A visit to the local stationery shop did
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not yield any answers; the stocky human at the counter shook
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their head apologetically when shown the broken ink bottle.
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However, they did suggest asking at one of the larger shops in
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the city.</p>
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<p>To celebrate their first successful quest, Inky made
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torties[1] for their party with flour ground from some of the
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large corn kernels at the dig site, topped with a sweet nutty
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squash spread. Babbleberry tea was served from their newly
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acquired jade tea set, now patched with what Inky had been
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assured was an unbreakable seal[2] by a merchant with a toothy
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grin in one of Vay’Nullar’s notorious back alleys.</p>
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<p>Master Corraidhín’s cautionary words of wisdom still echo
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in Inky’s head, though they were secretly tickled by the idea
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of the crystal being actually a rare and previously unknown
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species of melon with very potent magical properties. The very
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thought of melons was making Inky a bit thirsty. Let the
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warrior and wizard worry about all the potential evils of the
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world — it’s time for a dash to the market for some beatfruit
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juice!</p>
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<hr />
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<p>[1] Also known as torte-teas, as in “Torte-tea, yas?”,
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which was how their previous ink maestro used to greet
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customers entering the brewery. Flat little tea cakes with
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sugar or spice (or both, which vary by region) and sometimes
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eaten in a loose wrap. Some humans called them “crabs” for
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some reason which baffled Inky, since the torties had no
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pincers … at least none that they could see anyway.</p>
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<p>[2] The seal attached to the bottom of the teapot and each
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cup had a glyph of an unknown object between two hands.</p>
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</blockquote>
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<p>The healer removes a small glass bead from Inky’s palm. It
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is worn smooth and round like a marble. If you look closely,
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you can see a small blemish in the center that somewhat
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resembles either a duck or a rabbit depending on how you
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orient it.</p>
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<p>It is captivating to look at and comforting to hold in your
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hand. You fidget with it often. Now and then you suddenly
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notice you have been gazing at it for some minutes without
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realizing it.</p>
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<p>You make your party a delightful meal of torties, serving
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tea from the magically reinforced jade set.</p>
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<p>Cleaning up afterwards, you can’t help but notice the
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patterns of the tea leaves in the bottoms of the jade
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cups.</p>
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<p>YOU FORESEE AN OMEN FOR THE PARTY. WHAT IS IT?</p>
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<p>You dash to the market for beatfruit juice, which you
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easily find. And you find yourself irrationally drawn to the
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produce. The kale, dandelion greens, and beans all look
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especially scrumptious and … plump and juicy?</p>
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<p>An old toothy market attendant sits on a stool by the
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vegetable stand reading the Farmers Almanac. Unsolicited, they
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mention to you that it is only three days until the next full
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moon.</p>
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<blockquote>
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<p>Jarrod has two things in particular he wants to do when
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back in town, with whatever his cut of the gold is. First, he
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wants to go looking for a cheap, run-down building somewhere
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in town and buy the property if he has enough money (perhaps
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negotiating a bit where necessary).</p>
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<p>Second, he wishes to seek arcane counsel from Corraidhín,
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perhaps getting a small invocation applied to one of the
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charms on his arm band. Something in the realm of a
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fascination spell (with an activation word) that can be used
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on occasion to draw attention.</p>
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<p>Jarrod agrees that we should not invite trouble. We shall
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tread cautiously with regards to the crystals.</p>
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<p>Yum, torties!</p>
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</blockquote>
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<p>After successfully negotiating the price down a little bit,
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you are able to purchase a run-down building. You are now the
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proud owner and proprietor of the Milk Market building in the
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Wandering Bazzar district of downtown Vay’Nullar.</p>
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<p>The ground level is occupied by longtime district staple
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Enrique’s Empanada Emporium, famous for its signature stuffed
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pastries and its Terrapin Ale, brewed on site by Enrique
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himself, who happens to be a very large humanoid turtle.</p>
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<p>It’s a little seedy and a little divey, but still draws a
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fair amount of foot traffic from shoppers waiting for the
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eponymous, ambulatory bazaar of debatable sentience to wander
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by. Reliably, a small gang of breadpunks can be found
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loitering here and espousing the virtues of social anarchy.
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Enrique allows their presence and on occasion even buys them a
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round of ale.</p>
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<p>The top two levels are unoccupied. Years upon years ago,
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this space once held large vats for storing and preserving
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multibeast milk prior to being distributed. Some enterprising
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individual converted and updated the space some time ago, but
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was never able to find a tenant. In any case, the space is
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yours now to do with what you will.</p>
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<p>With Corraidhin’s assistance, you are able to enchant your
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armband by inscribing it with a cross-like glyph with a
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teardrop-shaped loop in place of the vertical upper bar. You
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now have a FASCINATING BANGLE that can, upon activation,
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compel attention and even potentially inspire people to dance
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about.</p>
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<p>WHAT DO YOU DO</p>
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<p><a
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href="https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-10/msg00001.html">www</a></p>
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]]>
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</description>
|
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</item>
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<item>
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<title>23</title>
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<author>dozens@tilde.team (dozens)</author>
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<guid isPermaLink="false">23 - Sat, 22 Oct 2022 09:36:52
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-0600</guid>
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<pubDate>Sat, 22 Oct 2022 09:36:52 -0600</pubDate>
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<description>
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<![CDATA[
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<h3 id="00023">00023</h3>
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<blockquote>
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<p>Why no, we don’t mind much about competition, certainly
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nothing wrong. Can’t imagine someone to put all of their eggs
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in one basket, especially when whatever it is they desire is
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so valuable.</p>
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<p>That said, our benefactor must be pretty eager to get these
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crystals if he’s willing to send out team after team. I mean,
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we’re team 43, that’s a lot of people to pay and a lot of
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eagerness to find these crystals. Why is that? What benefit
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are these shiny rocks to them? What even is their purpose in
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retrieving them?</p>
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</blockquote>
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<p>“Oh, no no no, child,” Blavin titters as he takes a sip of
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his ever-present martini. “You must understand, the Benefactor
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is a singularly dedicated collector, and has been for ages!
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There are—and have been!—many other retrieval teams, yes. But
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not all of them have been for the crystals. And some of them
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were formed, active, and disbanded long before you or I
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arrived on the scene.” He winks at you conspiratorially.</p>
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<blockquote>
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<p>I would postulate, based upon the magical wards we had to
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bypass, the cadre of gaurds that needed to be dispatched, and
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the gigantic moth monster that rested beneath it, that these
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crystals aren’t meant to go anywhere.</p>
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<p>Now I’m not trying to point fingers here, morality is many
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shades of gray, and it isn’t really my job to suss out what
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you’re doing. But I’m a curious sysorceor, and when I see a
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chance to learn I seize upon the moment. There’s something
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here you’re not telling us, and I for one and keen to know
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it.</p>
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</blockquote>
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<p>“I wouldn’t worry your wizened old brow about it,” Blavin
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chuckles, sloshing his drink. “The Benefactor’s concern is
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precisely the same as yours! These items are of enormous
|
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cultural and historical significance, to say nothing of their
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well of concentrated arcane energies. They’re dangerous just
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sitting out there in the world. Who knows who might come
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across one and use it for nefarious purposes.”</p>
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<p>Yam’L’s eye widens and it seems to shudder at the mere
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suggestion of evil.</p>
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<p>“Did you say this one was in the hands of a giant moth?”
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Blavin shudders with revulsion. “My word, man! Do you really
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think such an overgrown insect is an appropriate guardian for
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a beloved and dangerous cultural icon such as the Ginnarak
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Crystal? Surely not!”</p>
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<p>“No,” he sits back with a satisfied smile, “I think we must
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all agree that they are safer in the public collection of a
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competent and benevolent curator. Then everybody can enjoy
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them safely!”</p>
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<blockquote>
|
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<p>META: I’m gonna preface the sword speech with this to make
|
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it quicker to write</p>
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<p><strong>Y’aml</strong><br />
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I like what you’re putting down here, this guy is DEFINITELY
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evil. Nobody asks loads of people to steal things for them
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without being evil. I say we stab him, nice and good, right in
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the gut. Maybe 6 or 7 times. I’m positive nobody will mind.
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Evil people steal things, we saw that inky creature stealing
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things from that vault, definitely evil. (singsong) Evil evil
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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>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>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>
|
||
</channel>
|
||
</rss>
|