Topic: Our Salvation: It Is Written (Read 262368 times)

TopHat · « **Reply #1335 on:** July 19, 2016, 11:37:21 am »

"A shame indeed. Good luck with that, anyway."
Grab a random weapon from the debris and head back inside to see what my companion's managed to obtain. Keep an eye on the ground for anything interesting-looking on the way.

Harry Baldman · « **Reply #1336 on:** July 19, 2016, 01:13:24 pm »

Quote from: Xantalos on July 18, 2016, 01:52:37 pm

"Sorry buddy, just bad luck on your part that you ran into me."

Enter the well point.

"I'll be quick here. This one source gets me two questions, right? Here they are: where is the blacksmith currently located? And is there a way to either repair my maimed hand or get another left hand without losing my murder-thought?"

The altar swells invisibly as you approach with your gift, one Frederick, an undistinguished man of low birth and few real accomplishments save for surviving a bout of fever and starvation, and stand there as the hungry dark treads upon your mind, winding itself around the idea of his being. It is a small and insignificant source, of very little interest on its own. But it will do, you sense. It will certainly do for now.

Welcome. It has been some time.

Your first answer: the blacksmith is presently out by the storehouse, having spotted a returning Mr. Wilde with Word-powered certainty. He comes bearing the crucial ingredients of a time-ender's measure (see: time-enders, tools of study, phenomenological containment), one that he is prepared to create with the help of Mr. Wilde's own ingredients, and provide to him in return for the insights given. Mr. Wilde, however, does not have the requisite amount of gold to give him, although this gold would be of no trouble for him to acquire in the old well.

Your second answer: yes, the repair of your hand would not disturb the functioning of your weaponry (see: substrate weaponization, template molding techniques, suggestibility through interpretation) regardless of how it is achieved. Methods of repairing your hand would include visiting an unqualified medical professional, a fulfillment from the well and other methods of template molding.

The well looks forward to your return, or the creation of a new access point further out. Connections are no longer required. Another source of no distinction may be brought before demand is fully satisfied for the time being.

Thank you. Come again.

Quote from: penguinofhonor on July 18, 2016, 01:57:48 pm

Damn it, he's probably going to alert the soldiers in town. I have to convince him not to start more fighting.

I jump in the river after him. The current doesn't seem too dangerous.

[Surely There's No Danger: 1]

They say that calm waters run the deepest. You can now say that this applies to obviously swift mountain rivers as you dive in, hit the bottom and start tumbling along the rocks at the bottom, ones that the stoatman seems to have avoided unusually well. You accidentally inhale as you impact a particularly nasty piece of underlying rock that the muck has been cleanly swept away from, and it makes for as pleasant an experience as you'd expect.

[I Hear A Voice Calling: 5]

Rather wisely you make sure to stop trying to breathe, which leaves you with only the problem of tumbling quickly and uncontrollably through a highlands river. Though you do surmise you'll be running out of air sooner rather than later, as it were.

Quote from: AoshimaMichio on July 18, 2016, 03:07:02 pm

"I wonder what we count as. Definitely two accounts of murder, no wait, four. Smuggling... probably no. Thief yes. We stole you from stoats and I kinda stole Lee from them too, back at the siege camp. Let's go with murderers. So point us at one, would you? Once we get there I could try heal you. And when I say try, I also mean it. It could end with you dying fast, dying slow, me losing my limbs or you being only partially healed. Do you want to take the risk?"

One murderer's hideout, please! Afterwards, if the backpack is willing to take the risk and we make it, try some INEVITABLE healing because time heals all wounds.

Murder it is, then! These are somewhat more distant, your backpack explains, and more rarely used so as to not wear them out and render them obvious. The deluxe accommodations, as it were. It'll be something of a walk yet.

And he's most certainly not lying - heading straight away from town and the river, you eventually come upon a large and ancient tree, gnarled and mostly leafless except for one branch still barely clinging on to life. The tree of six thousand years, your backpack calls it. It pretends to be as old as the Kingdom that does the same. Clanfolk used to come here in the olden days, he says, back when hunters weren't as common. Incidents from back then still keep locals away, so visually impressive were the remains.

Anyway, he says, hideout's down beneath it. Need to dig a little to find the appropriate door. No deeper than a traitor's grave, last that he recalls, and it should be... there! Yes!

It takes a couple of minutes after setting him down to dig out enough of the dirt to reveal a small brass hatch in the ground. Was here before he came, your backpack mentions. Very nice workmanship, he has to say. Might have been a rogue alchemist. The place it leads to is certainly well-preserved enough. And there's the smell - heading down the small hatch you find a space the size of a middling apartment, rather dark and giving off an oddly medicinal aroma. You and Lee bump into a few tree roots before your backpack manages to guide you to a lamp that's much newer than the bunker itself.

The place is bare stone, somewhat dusty. Looks a lot like poured concrete, you think. Not pretty at all, but definitely durable. Reinforced, your backpack mentions proudly. He checked! The rest of the place looks like it has been emptied of anything even indicative of valuables, at least the original ones - there are three bedrolls, and what looks like an old fire pit underneath what looks like a very elaborate ventilation shaft no doubt meant to accommodate some kind of machine. Roots jut out from the ceiling in certain places, having a look of persistent mutilation about them only barely healed by time. A place once made with method and artistry, your backpack says wistfully, and abandoned with the same. Almost a shame to befoul such a cleanly vacated place.

Lee goes to all the bedrolls and starts checking them over meticulously. Your backpack looks on, as do you, somewhat unsure as to what she's doing. But since it does appear to be taking a while, you decide to broach the subject of potential healing.

[Adventurous Mindset: 4]

Well, says your backpack, you could say that both murderous sabotage and international trade are operations that require careful management of risks, and hey, he didn't figure he would survive captivity to begin with, so what does he really have to lose? Aside from his life, of course, but a life that's ended by sorcery is definitely a life well-lived. You decide you heartily agree, and tell him to hold still for a moment.

INEVITABLE

[Word: 5]

The bunker shakes with the power of the Word, echoing beyond what you'd expect of squarish concrete, traveling along deep ventilation shafts and stranger constructions still. Tapestries covered in geometries of alien beauty unfold upon the walls, bright white lamps of luminous gas come into being along the walls, the poured concrete covers itself with exquisitely patterned tiles. The smell of medicine evaporates, replaced with a metallic odor, the smell of smoke and the bubbling of many a beaker of colored glass upon rubberized black workbenches engraved in exquisite detail. Whirring fills your ears, and you notice a small fountain in front of you.

At the fountain stands a dark-skinned individual in an immaculate white tailored coat, the sleeves of which transition seamlessly into form-fitting gloves. His eyes are covered with what look like safety glasses, although these appear to come with a set of optional sliding lenses on the inside. His head is shaved, and you sense a great deal of surprise in his expression.

You know why you are here. You point at your backpack, and the man directs his attention at him as well. A countryman, you say. And perhaps a friend, yes? The fellow scoffs. This happens far too often with hired help. He steps over to a desk, maneuvering around a near-fatally confused Lee, retrieving a small syringe, then goes to what you could swear is a samovar, or at least looks like one, keeping some concoction at a constant temperature. He sticks a long bronze needle into a specific port on the side, attaching the syringe to it and drawing out a rather boringly transparent liquid, pausing midway to look at your backpack thoughtfully before drawing out a careful measure of it. Pulling the needle out, he steps over to your backpack, and sticks it into particular arteries at each limb, injecting a third into each.

A moment passes after the man draws out the needle after the final time, and then your backpack convulses violently, fingers reasserting themselves, bones righting their orientation with sickening cracks, small spurts of blood coming out of rapidly opening and closing wounds, the restructuring hands and feet maintaining an appearance of violent, ragged breathing. He screams rather loudly. The man takes a moment to nudge you to the side.

You, he says. When are you from? You don't really understand the question, you must say. He repeats it clearer - what's happening in Anglefork Town? You think for a second. You guess stoatmen took it over? Ah, he says. Interesting. Quite helpful. He then turns to your backpack, who still appears to be in quite a bad way as the reformation runs its course. It will take a while, the man says with an air of confidentiality. Don't pay the screaming any mind. It makes the process more effective, actually. He looks in his direction again, observing the man's tortured expression and nodding with approval.

Anyway, he has something for you to do in return for this. Wait here. The man makes his way swiftly to a chamber you do not recall noticing in this place before, and comes out with a small, featureless, quite incredibly locked brass box. Bury this in Elizabeth, he says, at the grave of Red Clouds Parting. Don't upend it. There you go, he says, pressing it into your hand. Don't forget. And hop to it.

He slaps you on the back, and the richly decorated lab melts away, detail pouring off the walls, the man stepping into a convenient shadow, desks retreating into walls, the smells and sounds washing over you in a wave of consuming imitation nostalgia, leaving the gray, dimly lit chambers you entered behind, unchanged from their original shape.

Lee stares at you wide-eyed, and you notice the box still in your hands, and your backpack still screaming and twitching as his appendages move toward complete reconstitution.

Quote from: Toaster on July 18, 2016, 08:12:48 pm

"Um... right. While traipsing around in disguises sounds fun, perhaps we should just look around first."

Scouty scout scout

[Scoutety Scout: 3]

Well, you note after roughly half an hour spent going a quarter of the way around the town from a safe distance, the place definitely doesn't look much more appealing from any other angle. Although you do notice what you're pretty sure is a winery off on the other side of town, and a somewhat large building that may or may not be the town hall. The guard says that both are diversions. What you need to find is the brothel. That's where all the good stuff happens, he says right before the Worm-knight smacks him upside the head with a resounding clank.

Quote from: TopHat on July 19, 2016, 11:37:21 am

"A shame indeed. Good luck with that, anyway."
Grab a random weapon from the debris and head back inside to see what my companion's managed to obtain. Keep an eye on the ground for anything interesting-looking on the way.

[The Claw of Multitudinous Prizes: 2]

You're not sure where Ms. Minett found that ridiculous sword, but you definitely don't see its like around. There is a plank, though. Not one with a nail in it or anything (nails are, after all, pretty expensive in this day and age). You suppose it'll do, and head right back to the courtyard.

[The Quest Is Never-Ending: 6]

Your companion, it seems, is waiting by the front of the keep. She comes over to you as soon as she sees you. Before that, however, you notice the blacksmith walking your way much more urgently, a small bag in his hand. He gets to you first, and you notice your companion slow her pace as he begins to speak to you, cautious of interrupting.

He has found his part of the measure, the blacksmith says in an even tone. And you have the glass already. Did you find the gold he requested?

Spoiler: Status (click to show/hide)

penguinofhonor · « **Reply #1337 on:** July 19, 2016, 01:52:11 pm »

Glub.

I try to swim out of the river.

TopHat · « **Reply #1338 on:** July 19, 2016, 02:25:10 pm »

"Nuts, Daniels hasn't delivered then. Here, take the glass and I'll grab some quickly."
Run down to the well, pick up a bag of gold, deliver it to the blacksmith. Easiest fetch quest ever.

"I'll be a few minutes, sorry about that. Just got to get something for the blacksmith first."

AoshimaMichio · « **Reply #1339 on:** July 19, 2016, 03:21:04 pm »

Leif clears his throat twice.

"Less I expect from this magic more succesfull it is. Say Lee, do you happen to have any business in direction of this Elizabeth some time in the future? I wouldn't mind having excellent guide like yourself giving me helping hand on the route. Because apparently I'm going there sooner or later."

This fuckery with time calls for something nerve calming. Like grapefruits filled with divine nectarine. Share some with Lee and my backback whose name I still don't know if they feel the need to relax.

Xantalos · « **Reply #1340 on:** July 19, 2016, 04:42:50 pm »

"Right, guess that guy's gonna have to stay stuck down there. Thanks well."

Leave the well and run over to the storehouse. Find blacksmith. Deliver gold.

Toaster · « **Reply #1341 on:** July 19, 2016, 04:47:50 pm »

Thomas cleared his throat. "I wouldn't know anything about a brothel. Certainly not a place for upstanding folks like us to visit. Why not go straight to the town hall?"

Scout the town hall out. That's the trick.

Harry Baldman · « **Reply #1342 on:** July 20, 2016, 04:52:28 am »

Quote from: penguinofhonor on July 19, 2016, 01:52:11 pm

Glub.

I try to swim out of the river.

[Seeking Distant Shores: 4]

You decide to stop messing around and start tumbling a little more deliberately to the side, and even manage a little swimming every now and then as you lose contact with the riverbed, eventually managing to reemerge on the shore, gasping for air and drenched to the bone, and still on the castle island to boot.

Looking off in the distance, you see the shape of the escaping stoatman move rapidly toward Anglefork Town.

[Reel In The Eel: 1]

Oddly enough he doesn't seem to be moving toward the shore, at least not as far as you can tell.

Quote from: TopHat on July 19, 2016, 02:25:10 pm

"Nuts, Daniels hasn't delivered then. Here, take the glass and I'll grab some quickly."
Run down to the well, pick up a bag of gold, deliver it to the blacksmith. Easiest fetch quest ever.

"I'll be a few minutes, sorry about that. Just got to get something for the blacksmith first."

You apologize for making your companion waiting, which she nods understandingly at, and tell the blacksmith to wait right here after handing him the glass as you descend into the well, where you find the stores of gold still very much in place. There's no sacks that are small enough to keep the amount of gold needed in them, so you just nab a convenient pot and fill it with an amount of gold that feels appropriate. That done, you climb on out of the well, where the blacksmith awaits next to the storehouse. However, he does seem to have been joined by Mr. Daniels, who has also brought a much more enormous supply of gold with him.

You approach the blacksmith and he nods at you. Between the sack and the pot there will be plenty gold for any given purpose here. He takes the pot, since this is actually possible for him to carry, and instructs Mr. Daniels to put the sack in his workshop if he has no other use for it, then heads over to his home, entering it unceremoniously and shutting the door behind him for a moment before opening it again, poking his head out. Should be done within a few hours, he tells you. The work is somewhat delicate.

Quote from: AoshimaMichio on July 19, 2016, 03:21:04 pm

Leif clears his throat twice.

"Less I expect from this magic more succesfull it is. Say Lee, do you happen to have any business in direction of this Elizabeth some time in the future? I wouldn't mind having excellent guide like yourself giving me helping hand on the route. Because apparently I'm going there sooner or later."

This fuckery with time calls for something nerve calming. Like grapefruits filled with divine nectarine. Share some with Lee and my backback whose name I still don't know if they feel the need to relax.

Lee still looks a little shaken as she looks at you. Elizabeth? That is northward. And that... is the way she was going. Yes.

She thinks a moment as you avail yourself of a vodka grapefruit. It is possible, she says, that the clans will meet there. She will need to find the Great Moth first. And she knows where to do that. It is... not on the way, not exactly. You offer her a grapefruit as well. She starts peeling it as she thinks, then sinks her teeth into the alcohol-laden flesh. Hopefully it'll soothe her nerves at least.

You turn toward your backpack. He seems to be getting a little better, or at least less screamy as his hands and feet begin to resemble what they were originally supposed to be. A few more convulsions pass over him and he visibly deflates, letting out a great sigh as the pain slowly subsides, then promptly passes out from exhaustion. Fortunately, this does not affect your ability to send him some lovely grapefruits to make for some colorful dreams.

Anyway, you suppose it might be a good time to settle in for a rest. A whole grapefruit of vodka makes for a pretty decent nightcap, you'd think, and as far as you know this should be safe enough to sleep in for the time being.

Quote from: Xantalos on July 19, 2016, 04:42:50 pm

"Right, guess that guy's gonna have to stay stuck down there. Thanks well."

Leave the well and run over to the storehouse. Find blacksmith. Deliver gold.

You walk out of the shrine and, sure enough, the blacksmith is there. Considerably less manic in appearance. Not naked. But nevertheless very alert and animated. Something behind the eyes, you think. But slightly different than your case, no doubt.

You step over to him, and he nods in acknowledgement. You produce the sack of gold, and immediately Mr. Wilde comes out of the well with a pot of gold of his own. The blacksmith regards both your offerings, and takes the pot for its superior portability. However, he says, you may still feel free to put your own gold in his workshop should you have no other use for it. Materials can get expensive at times. And the siege is over, it seems. Pot, glass and a set of unknown supplies in hand, he heads over to his workshop, disappearing inside for a moment before coming out to tell Mr. Wilde that the measure ought to take a few hours of work.

You can't help but feel that the blacksmith is somewhat changed. Perhaps in a way that's not at all favorable to you.

Quote from: Toaster on July 19, 2016, 04:47:50 pm

Thomas cleared his throat. "I wouldn't know anything about a brothel. Certainly not a place for upstanding folks like us to visit. Why not go straight to the town hall?"

Scout the town hall out. That's the trick.

Well, says the guard, if you're all that upstanding, the brothel should-

The Worm-knight smacks him again. Getting a closer look at the town hall would be useful, she concurs with you. But highly dangerous. This will require subtlety and stealth.

[With Catlike Tread: 2]

You travel down one of the paths into the town. You head down the path like a reasonable person. The Worm-knight tries to weave through alleyways and pull you along. And the guard insists on taking off his armor every now and then and heading down to the Red Alley, at which point the Worm-knight has to discipline him firmly and quite resoundingly. All these factors come together to bring about an interesting scene.

On one side of an empty street, you, the guard and the Worm-knight, the latter two having a slight deer-in-the-headlights look as they notice what you saw a few seconds ago, which is to say five stoatmen wielding spears at the other end of the street, looking straight at you. A silence settles in for a second or two as a lot of stares are exchanged.

Spoiler: Status (click to show/hide)

Xantalos · « **Reply #1343 on:** July 20, 2016, 05:32:26 am »

Quote from: Earlier when I asked if getting my hand back would break my murder-thought

Excellent! And yes! The blacksmith seems particularly sure about that latter bit for some reason.

Quote from: Asking the well the same question

Your second answer: yes, the repair of your hand would not disturb the functioning of your weaponry regardless of how it is achieved.

Jack's eyes narrow ever so slightly.

"...that'll work just fine then. I'll be back in a few hours. To check up on the armor. The one you were making for me.
...
I'm going to find a stoatman now."

Keep the sack of gold for now, it could be a thing I can throw at people in an emergency. Go find that ... whoever that was that offered me a place on her looting mission. She should be by the gates, mayhaps? Go find her, I'm ready to go if she is.

penguinofhonor · « **Reply #1344 on:** July 20, 2016, 05:55:48 am »

Gah, wrong side. I rest on the shore for a minute and collect my thoughts.

At least the stoat seems to be having trouble too. Maybe he just wants to swim away.

AoshimaMichio · « **Reply #1345 on:** July 20, 2016, 06:33:32 am »

"Well, it's not like I have a time limit or something, so detours are perfectly good. Gotta see the land and all its attractions."

If backback isn't on a bedroll, drag him on one. Sleeping on hard concrete ain't nice if you aren't drunk. Then welcome mister sandman and... sleep?

TopHat · « **Reply #1346 on:** July 20, 2016, 07:34:01 am »

"A few hours, got it. See you later."
Go and see how the supply procurement went.
"Again, apologies for that. What did you manage to get?"

Toaster · « **Reply #1347 on:** July 20, 2016, 07:57:42 am »

Well, we can always try politeness.

"Good day, friendly stout fellows! A lovely day for a stroll! My friends were just talking about your hospitality!"

Talk politely! It's an important part of the sale.

Harry Baldman · « **Reply #1348 on:** July 20, 2016, 10:11:09 am »

Quote from: Xantalos on July 20, 2016, 05:32:26 am

Jack's eyes narrow ever so slightly.

"...that'll work just fine then. I'll be back in a few hours. To check up on the armor. The one you were making for me.
...
I'm going to find a stoatman now."

Keep the sack of gold for now, it could be a thing I can throw at people in an emergency. Go find that ... whoever that was that offered me a place on her looting mission. She should be by the gates, mayhaps? Go find her, I'm ready to go if she is.

She's not at the gates, actually, but you do find that man who brought the stoatman sacrifice for you to perform. The captain of the castle guard. He currently appears to be in the middle of receiving a somewhat urgent-sounding report from one of his guards, though you wouldn't be able to tell from the man's current expression.

Currently the question of the day appears to be why exactly the castle guards completely abandoned their posts to go searching through the siege camp, which the guardswoman seems to be at a complete loss to satisfactorily explain. Something about a strange consuming hunger that came over her or whatever.

Quote from: penguinofhonor on July 20, 2016, 05:55:48 am

Gah, wrong side. I rest on the shore for a minute and collect my thoughts.

At least the stoat seems to be having trouble too. Maybe he just wants to swim away.

As night falls and the stoat goes out of sight, you consider where he might end up. Far downstream, presumably. Maybe the river will calm down before long, and he'll be able or willing to swim ashore. Or maybe he'll pass out from exhaustion and drown. Who knows? You don't, that's for sure. Best to just relax and let those knots pass out of your body on their own. The ground is reasonably soft by the riverside, coated in a fine layer of ash, dampened by your earlier display of the sea's power.

Quote from: AoshimaMichio on July 20, 2016, 06:33:32 am

"Well, it's not like I have a time limit or something, so detours are perfectly good. Gotta see the land and all its attractions."

If backback isn't on a bedroll, drag him on one. Sleeping on hard concrete ain't nice if you aren't drunk. Then welcome mister sandman and... sleep?

You deposit your backpack on a nearby bedroll, and grab the last one for yourself, settling down for a nice bit of much-needed sleep. Time heals all wounds, they say. For you more than most. Lee elects to keep the light on, or maybe just neglects to put it out before she too wraps up and falls asleep after finishing off the grapefruit.

You've all settled in for a restful sleep. Hopefully tomorrow will bring further progress. It has been an eventful couple of days already.

Quote from: TopHat on July 20, 2016, 07:34:01 am

"A few hours, got it. See you later."
Go and see how the supply procurement went.
"Again, apologies for that. What did you manage to get?"

[Valuable Supplies: 3]

There was some rope, she says, and there was still that candle she had. Other than that the castle is largely empty of valuable supplies that people haven't squirreled away in place she can't reach. And the caches left by the ones who died have been plundered ages ago. Well, that and she's not sure anybody in here had spelunking equipment to begin with.

Quote from: Toaster on July 20, 2016, 07:57:42 am

Well, we can always try politeness.

"Good day, friendly stout fellows! A lovely day for a stroll! My friends were just talking about your hospitality!"

Talk politely! It's an important part of the sale.

[Fine Evening, Gentlemen: 4]

The guards start coming your way. State your business, the leader of the squad shouts, nobody's supposed to be out past curfew! She looks for something to more precisely indicate the time, and settles for the darkening sky. The Worm-knight starts to look really very tense. The guard, meanwhile, looks her way in a disturbingly meaningful fashion, one that she seems to quite fully understand, at which point she looks at you with an implied understanding in her eye.

Spoiler: Status (click to show/hide)

TopHat · « **Reply #1349 on:** July 20, 2016, 11:25:47 am »

"Well, thanks for the effort. I guess I'd better go back and check the seige camp for anything else useful."
Go back outside the castle and see if the stoats had anything I could use.

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Author Topic: Our Salvation: It Is Written (Read 262368 times)

TopHat

Re: Our Salvation: Knights of the Far Beyond

Harry Baldman

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penguinofhonor

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TopHat

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AoshimaMichio

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Xantalos

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Toaster

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Harry Baldman

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Xantalos

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penguinofhonor

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AoshimaMichio

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TopHat

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Toaster

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Harry Baldman

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TopHat

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