"Eh, I'll just wait for when he's available to talk to then. I don't really need to go to El, though - I was heading there at one point on account of I needed something from there, but I picked it up along the way as a matter of happenstance. All I'd need in compensation for working for you folks would be, as you said, data, maybe a few helpings of that bacon maggot cheese stuff you guys make every now and then, and the opportunity to take a look at any magical or ... odd phenomena or objects we might come across while travelling. Might benefit me, y'see. And thus you guys. Is that reasonable?"
Daniels pauses for but a second before speaking again, a thought seemingly popping into his head just as he shuts his mouth.
"Oh, this interview you mentioned - does it involve mind probing at all? If so, it's probably best to do some other version of it that doesn't involve that, my mind's not the most welcoming place to outside probes."
She puts her hand to her chest as if wounded by the notion of probing your mind. Please, good sir, such invasive and barbaric techniques are at best ineffective and at worst insulting to valued associates. What fashionable things they used to be, minders. Fortunately evolution can be a quick thing when those in power are threatened by it, wouldn't you agree?
No, she was more thinking some questions over coffee if you do not mind, sir. She flags down a nearby sailor and quickly instructs him to bring Peaks along sharpish, and also a table if he'd be so kind. Oh, and three chairs. Nice ones. There's a good man.
All of those, you notice, are brought with stupendous quickness, including the alchemist who appears to be in good spirits as she approaches, smiling first at the head in your possession and then at you as she bows graciously and they take seats somewhat close to one another. Two Shores sheathes her sword in a movement too precarious to be called elegant and steeples her fingers as she also takes a seat. Coffee is brought by familiar faces from the tavern with played-up sweetness and grace.
Your two interviewers look up at you meaningfully, and Two Shores indicates the seat prepared for you. The interview will take a little while, she would like to say in advance, and the questions may be a little thorough at times. Shouldn't worry of course, Peaks adds, you've done all right by the Vault. Indeed, Shores continues, a bad outcome is highly unlikely and anything you choose to reveal will be kept in strict confidence.
A warm cup of what is, judging by the smell, considerably better coffee than what you got in the tavern before stands prepared just for you, along with a snack of the bacon maggot cheese stuff ('juggler's foot' is apparently the proper name, as Peaks Ever-Crumbling sees fit to comment). You have a moment to consider exactly how much you want to lie about.
Perfectly reasonable!
Now, let's locate Lee and check if the mystery box is safe. Gotta talk about what we do next.
[Leeward Course: 6]
Lee has got up remarkably early for all of the drinking she has clearly engaged in, and seems to be keeping very well as you find her sipping a subterranean variety of tea and having slight nibbles of fermented crab. She's a little red-eyed as she looks at you, but in very good shape regardless.
You sit down opposite her as she merely nods in greeting. So, you say. A moment or two passes. Rough night, you add in a nondescript tone.
Yes, she says and has another go at the crab. The conversation doesn't really begin to flow from there.
Right, you make another brave effort. So how about that box of hers. She raises an eyebrow. The mystery box, you clarify. The one from the alchemist.
Oh, she says with audible relief. That one. She nods. Yes. She has placed it somewhere.
Okay, you say as a little more time passes. And that place would be...
Lee shrugs. It has not come back to her yet. It could not have gone very far. Should turn up at some point, she says with a mysterious smile.
"Well, I'd say we just head up the side first; if the man up top doesn't wish to allow us passage, we can fall back to the tunnels as another option. Onward and upward?"
Start the climb. Keep an eye out for angry rugby players.
Rugby; did that involve kicking? Thomas had heard that rugby players were an unruly lot.
[Onward And Upward: 1]
The climb goes remarkably well, as such climbs all too often do, until it rather suddenly doesn't some 50 feet from your starting point. The hill, or rather what has at that point become nearly a cliff, very suddenly begins to crumble as a handhold gives way, followed by your foothold and then much of the hillside near it as you and a considerable number of rocky chunks and fellow climbers sail downward in a shower of bodies and rubble, you at the very top.
[Survival of the Fittest: 2]
It works out rather well, all things considered - you've at worst crushed perhaps one of the treefishers underneath the mass of climbers, and much of the rubble falling down is deflected by your face and your flailing limbs, though not to their aesthetic or structural benefit. There's what could be charitably described as a darned kerfuffle as the pile disintegrates into variously injured folk stumbling away from the crumbled hillside from atop the people with actually broken or fractured bones.
It seems that they've developed a sudden and very healthy curiosity about their new insurance policies. The ones conscious enough to make noise, that is.
[King of the Hill: 1]
Another rock hits you on the head as the hillside ceases collapsing onto you, adding to your serendipitous new wealth of lacerations and borderline dislocations. You turn around and see the inklings of an old structure poking out of where deceptively stable cliffside used to be.
"I guess you're right. If she doesn't want to leave, though, I doubt I can force her."
I walk back into the cave until I get to the main chamber. "Hey, Oggie! Do you want to come with us on an adventure? I know you said you missed talking to people - if you come with us you wouldn't have to be so lonely. The outside doesn't seem any more dangerous than your house, for now at least, and I'm sure the three of us could handle anything out there."
[Mysteries of the Subterranean: 4]
The doctor beams at you as you agree to her request. She does not, however, feel like going back in there (not that it would even help, she rationalizes quietly). So you wander into the dark and look around for Oggie. She does not prove difficult to find initially, although she does seem leery of coming very close at first. Eventually, however, you manage to get some face time (literally in the case of her running her very large hands over your face and making sure, near as you can tell, that you've not undergone some terribly feared change).
That done, you decide to make your case to her again on behalf of the doctor.
[Heavenly Light: 6]
The light, she says. Irritating.
Well, you reply, there's nighttime. No light then. Not a lot, anyway. There's something to be said for variety as well, isn't there? You can't appreciate the dark if there's not a bit of light to give it contrast. She gives this thought.
What about pets, she asks. Many pets down here. Voiceless mostly. Some talk every now and then. Not alive, no. But still talking sometimes, yes.
There's a lot more topside, you reply! All kinds of furry, muscular, scaly and slimy things travel along the earth, things she assuredly hasn't seen or felt yet. Many of them could likely even be coerced into some kind of pet-like arrangement. You hear Oggie rub her chin thoughtfully with a steely scratching noise.
Something occurs to her. What about bad people? Many of those. Too many.
Most of them were eaten, you reassure her, and there was an earthquake and a plague of other people that drove the rest off near as you can tell. And if you run into more, you're fairly sure that with your command of sorcery and her extreme potential in wringing necks you can take care of most anything else.
You hear a sound like a deceptively small creature very precisely miming how exactly she'd pull a man's head off. It sounds quite imaginative and disturbingly anatomically correct. A noise like sandpaper having far too good a time issues from her throat. Revenge. Yes. It tickles the mind.
She would like this, to wring the neck of someone responsible. Or someone related. She is stronger than she was, she thinks. Or knows better, at least. Take her there.
Supposing this good enough, you take her out toward the exit. Oggie starts nearly pulling you back several times along the way, and needs a little reminding every now and then where you are going, and a little less convincing as you don't so much argue as repeat what you have already spoken of.
Eventually you are at the threshold. Oggie looks out into the sun and all the hairs on her body violently bristle. She pulls you with a force that nearly dislocates your shoulder and you fall to the ground. The doctor, having stood up from what must have been a good half hour of nervous waiting, leaps forward to try and help.
She freezes in place as Oggie's head snaps toward her, her watering warthog eyes squinting to make her out in the blinding light. That, she says after a moment. That is her dress, she points at the doctor. The doctor looks at you helplessly. Why is that woman wearing her dress, Oggie asks you very sharply, raising you from the ground with one hand and a very suspicious stare.
"I'm fine, thank you. Just came over here to see if anyone needed help. Quite a crash, there.
Wait, is there anything wrong with the cart, then? I may be able to help with that."
Very good, the man says. And not that much of a crash. He's seen it hit more important things.
It's not really a cart, he confides in you after you press a little more. The cart responds by almost pulling itself out of the ruins in a threatening fashion. Don't ask too much about it, it makes it nervous. And that just leads to more crashes.
He sighs as the thing slides back into its former position. Best not to think about it too deeply. Wonderful day, isn't it. You look up at the eternal dark grayness of the dead kingdom's sky, and back at him quizzically. You're right, he says, it never is. Sorry, he then adds and starts to dig out the cart from the ruins, which seems to settle it down some.
Good work, he mumbles as he works, running cargo in the market district. Builds character, or so he's heard. You wouldn't happen to be new, would you? You seem not particularly dead in any case, would he be correct in saying so?
Leif Erikson, Miner and Lush
- Half-basket of apple-like mushrooms
- Paper party crown (worn)
- Moth-robe (worn)
- Itchy Woolen Britches (worn)
- A Word: INEVITABLE
- A Word: APOCALYPSE
- A Word: DRINK
- Body Count: 228
- Mead of Poetry (4 shining revelations remaining)
- Enders' Friend: The Grave of Red Clouds Parting
- Inscribed Wooden Stylus
- Iron spear
- 1.03 gp
- The Box: ?
- Induced Lucidity: A Map of Things Real and Imagined
- Compatibility: Minding
- Tricks of the Mind: Perception, Memory
- Tricks of the Mind: Engagement, Negation, Abstraction, Prestige
- Tricks of the Mind: the Self, the Other
- Gods of the Underground: Did You Just What
- A Visit From The Stork: Is What You Yes
- The Voracious Dark: Two Deals Made
- The Voracious Dark: The Promised Sixth
- Moth's Flight: Honorary Clansman
- A Night That Burns Forever: Later Today
- The Miracle of Life: Wayward Rabbit
Eileen Minett, Vinyl Collector
- Distilled alcohol (in flask)
- Spirits of salt (in clay jar)
- Soaps of elk, bear, bat and snake
- 4 flasks of lamp oil
- Oil lamp (lit)
- Linen stoat shirt (worn)
- Stoat trousers (worn)
- Comfy slippers (worn)
- Never-made scimitar (blackened, slightly dull)
- Tooth-handled hunting knife
- Black leather boots
- An assemblage of amber and amethysts
- Silver thread-necklace
- Onyx spiral earrings
- 2 oaken rings
- Rusty, bloodstained knife
- A Word: HUNGER
- A Word: SYNTHESIS
- A Weapon: Explosive Cysts
- Grenade Jumping: A Solid Technique
- The Good Doctor: Secret Histories
- Sword of the Sand People: Cleaning Supplies
- Sword of the Sand People: The Services of a Minder
- Higher Tonight: There And Back Again
- The Old Mistress: A Quest For Necks
Jack Daniels, Karate Man
- Red and gold vest and breeches combo (worn)
- Leather boots (worn)
- Rubber mattress (filled with water)
- Rainbow's ghoulish head
- 14033 gp (in sack)
- Poor Unfortunate Soul: Forever Captive
- The Queen's Guard: Actual Asset
- Powers of the Beyond: Gardener of Thoughts
- Garden of Thoughts: the Stoat-Magistrate
- Dusty Wooden Speaking-Trumpet
- Crossbow Bolt (in throat)
- A Word: REND
- A Word: SILENCE
- A Word: EXECRABLE
- A Weapon: Murder-Thought
- Uncoupled: Strength
- Wooden Door
- The Winding Path of Inspiration: Run Like Hell
- Induced Lucidity: The Silent Garden
- Elongated Affairs: Enemy of the New State
- A Place In History: Vastly Unreliable
- 2 rats, crushed
- 1 rat, strangled
- 1 rat, live
- Travels In The Fourth Dimension: Sunday ± 2 Days
- Doomstones: So High Up But Such A Bitter View
- The Majordomo: A Great Divide Between Us Now
- The Voracious Dark: Decreasing Demand
- The Voracious Dark: More Specific Requests
- The Vault of Heavens: Special Treatment
- Body Count: 3
Thomas Minstep, Insurance Agent
- Wounds: 1
- A Word: ABSENCE
- A Word: GOODBYE
- A Word: WORM
- A Weapon: The Sword They Fear
- Insurance contracts, signed in triplicate: 13
- Gamble
- Nobody Cares
- Helen Clampitt
- Lily
- Undine and Prosper Eke
- Silver
- Tabernacle, treefisher scout
- Treefisher elder
- 4 treefishers
- Make A Man Out Of You: Battle-Tested
- The Grip of Tharn: Insurance Against The Storm
- Ranging fork
- 2 feet of sinew-thread
- Tooth-needle
- A Bowl, Black and Knobby
- Tight Leather Pants (worn)
- Incredibly Tight Blue Dress (worn, mutilated, mildly provocative)
- Travels In The Fourth Dimension: Sunday, July 25th, 409 S.D.
- The Queen's Guard: A Reward Well Earned
- The New Queen: Lasting Gratitude
- Lonely Roads: Walk Away
- The Box: Absolutely Delightful
- Body Count: 2
Oscar Wilde, Chemistry Teacher
- A Word: REVELATION
- The Wicked King's Missive On Economic Reform (in massive silver scroll case)
- Wounds: 1
- Traces of Mischief: Glowing Facial Rift
- The Serpent's Egg: Dissemination
- Body Count: 4
- Cornerstone Helm (worn, collecting light)
- Time-ender's measure (wrapped, processing? stopping?)
- 10 m of rope
- Half a candle
- 1 rat, skinless and smoked
- 6 gp
- Poor Misshapen Dice
- Lock of Hair (unidentified)
- Iron nail, unused
- An Inauspicious Key
- Burlap Foot Wrappings (worn)
- Burlap Hand Wrappings (worn)
- Moth-Eaten Hat (worn)
- Respectable Brown Skirt (worn)
- Old Brown Waistcoat (worn)
- Bright Yellow Tunic (worn)
- A Wealth of Burlap Ribbons
- The Winding Path of Inspiration: The Less Dangerous Friend
- The King's Court: The Greatest Gift of All
- The King's Court: The North Wind's Gift
- The King's Court: The East Wind's Gift
- The King's Court: The South Wind's Gift
- The King's Court: The West Wind's Gift
- The King's Court: A Gift For The Wicked King