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We should acquire the following supplies in preparation for our journey:
Pack of Rations (5 uses, 5 coin, 1 weight) Non-perishable, dried foods. Digestible by any race on Demiurge's Shard.
Explorer's Kit (5 uses, 20 coin, 1 weight) Contains mundane items useful for travelling or exploring such as bundles of rope, torches, grappling hooks, etc. When you rummage through your Explorer's kit in search of such an item, you find what you need and mark off a use.
Fidget's Kit (5 uses, 25 coin, 1 weight) Contains mundane items useful for crafting, tinkering....and breaking and entering, such as craftsman's tools, lockpicks, spare parts, etc. When you rummage through your Fidget's Kit in search of such an item, you find what you need and mark off a use.
The Fidget's Kit should be left at the inn when we head for the shard.
Might be worth considering a shield.
Shield (+1-armour, 25 coin, 2 weight)
+1 armour is twice as much as we've got now, and is a huge boost under this system. Unlike heavier armour, it doesn't downgrade our mobility. Lithium Flower how does weight affect movement speed? How much can we carry?
Might be worth looking at our options for getting a new eye. A cheap option could also be crafting a smooth orb of suitable size, and get a Builder to repurpose it as a functional eye with a belief move. Maybe it wouldn't be cheap... I'm assuming Mend Something Broken doesn't apply to something that's missing altogether. Can it be used to heal, or is it only for inanimate objects?
If a crafted eye was usable even when detached, it could be very useful, albeit disorientating, in certain situations. Hide the eye in a room, roll it around a corner etc.
Come to think of it, what sort of things would be interesting to craft? Experimentation is a key tenet of the Seeker worldview.
Weight does not impact movement speed mechanically, only armour does. Perhaps you will be easier to catch if overburdened, but not if you are within your carry limit.
You can carry up to 8 weight (8+STR). You are already carrying 5 and something to consider is that loot takes up weight as well as coin.
Remember that you also have other options for your sidearm, like a second weapon (allows you to re-roll damage die), one-handed ranged weapon for extra versatility, or a parrying weapon which can function as both a shield (against melee attacks only) or as a second weapon.
-
Fidget kits are useful not just for crafting but for doing things like picking locks etc. Keep in mind you have a Crafting skill which is useful for both of those things. baud I really don't have a realistic time table for crafting things but making something probably won't take more than a day at most unless it is an excessively complicated item. Also you can pull tools out of a kit and keep them in your inventory (although they will usually be 1-weight at that point) and then leave the kit behind if you wish.
Also, regarding acquiring all of those things: you guys don't really have a contact for getting a shield or a crossbow, but you can search around the Ghetto and see what you can find. Step-There might have a spare Explorer's Kit or Fidget's Kit lying around. Pack of Rations are not a problem. Bear in mind that you have an unknown contact (mysterious gambeson-gifting Termitarium people) who you haven't met yet.
-
Mend something broken is not exclusively for inanimate objects and could be used to heal you. In this case I would say that restoring an absent part of you is a stretch, but perhaps a proper member of the Bureau will be able to do it. They will certainly be able to re-purpose a smooth orb into an eye.
However, if you actually craft a functional, mechanical eye, then a namer could put it inside you, therefore "mending" you.
I like the idea of going full Thief with the mechanical eye. I think these changes (some sort of spring mechanism, etc) will have to be incorporated into the eye itself, so some crafting will be required.
Really the biggest wild card in either plan is dealing with Builders. You might need to convince them of the utility of using their belief on you. And members can use their beliefs on you, only...in a way that you don't want. Also remember that it is plausible that you are a wanted herald on one level or another.
Incidentally if you had picked Alchemy earlier, you could've grown yourself a magical eye.
EDIT: Oh yeah, tentatively added Hello Friend's shopping list to options for now. Just Fidget's Kit, Explorer's Kit, and rations for now. Let me know if you feel confident about shield or crossbow.
Okay. My vote is for B, purchasing rations from wherever and Explorer's Kit from Step-There. Also have a chat with him. The eye can wait, rolling eyes around corners is possibly not too useful in a weird place like the Shard of Curious Depths. A crossbow could be pretty useful, but let's not take any risks right now procuring anything exotic. But we could ask Step-There if he knows anyone who can help us get weapons and/or armour. It will come in handy later on.
Cool. This will be option B+) Go out and buy a pack of rations, then take a couch back to the Voidship Yards and see if Step-There has an extra Explorer's Kit. Perhaps you can get some advice from him.
Sorry for the delay - also, I will update this post with a second set of choices (actions to take for the next day) in the next 10-16 hours. Just need to sleep on it and revise the list I have.
Part 33 - Someone is Watching
It takes you a while to find a carriage back home – those that live in the Facade Ghetto rarely have reasons or means to leave their home ward unnecessarily – but it takes very little effort to purchase a pack of rations from one of the many provision shops in the Yards, although you do find that there fewer establishments are open at this hour than expected. The sight of food – even the dehydrated, barely appetizing type – reminds you that it has been almost an entire day since you have eaten, so you make a note to hurry to the Last Meal Inn as soon as you are finished with Step-There.
You pause beneath an oil lamp hanging beside a crooked sign reading “Tempest Provisioners” and take out a piece of paper with Step-There's. It is dark and chilly, though your coat renders the latter a non-issue. The shard's atmosphere might as well be an obsidian shell, solid and black except for the glitter of the Shard of Curious Depths. A low sound resonates through the world around you as a great airbeast floats above, killing the nearby shard's glitter. Thank the Demiurge for these great beasts, or else you'd have no lamp to read this address under.
Step-There's place is more or less familiar to you, a warehouse-cum-tenement the owner of which had separated its large interior into a dozen or so rooms, with thick walls and the kind of living conditions entirely appropriate for a warehouse but a tad inadequate for apartments. Cheap as a freethinker's word, too, on the account of being right in the middle of the block, surrounded by larger buildings – generally the more turns it takes to get to a property in the Yards, the lower its value, for every turn is an event. The ward makes sure of that.
Strange. Knowing where to go usually feels you with excitement or at least cautious optimism, but now you cannot help but feel a directionless sense of worry, as if something bad is going to happen if you visit Step-There tonight. Perhaps you could have picked a better time for this trip. It is quite late and while walking the Yards at night is less suicidal than doing the same in the Ghetto or the Termitarium, it is still far from a very bright idea. Still, at least the walk and the potential for adventure might distract you from the recent revelations, you think with some irony, recalling last night's manic journey through the ward. You tighten your grip on the swordcane and take your first turn.
And step into a nest of vermin-beasts. Wonderful. The tiny things screech and shoot of into the walls of surrounding buildings, trying desperately and unsuccessfully to squeeze themselves through gaps that do not appear to be there. A stench of excrement is in the air, although it is nothing compared to the scents of the Ghetto.
It is after the third or so turn that you make it halfway down the alley before realizing that nothing of note has happened to you yet. You pause and the first thing you hear is the worry from before, only now it turned to fear, a neurotic voice telling you to run before something finds you, before someone sees you.
You always had a mercurial relationship with this voice.
Just now you hear it – a muffled echo coming from somewhere. You follow it, walking back the way you came, careful not to turn or even peer around the corner, and stop before a sewer grate perhaps half meter in diameter.
A deep, mournful sobbing – as deep as an airbeast's call – echoes from within the grate.
Without sparing another second you turn and proceed towards Step-There's home, almost running, though not quite – mustn't run, musn't be heard is what your fear is telling you now.
---
It takes you a while to make out Step-There's room number in the gloom of the alley but once you do you proceed to knock lightly on his rough wooden door.
You hear just the slightest hint of a shuffle behind the door a minute or so later, and nothing else.
You draw back your fist to knock with more force this time yet at the last second you let it fall gently on the door - it seems wrong to be heard, to draw attention to yourself at this time.
A few minutes pass.
You can almost hear Step-There's muffled breath on the other side of the door, his many hands fumbling for a weapon.
You tell him that it's you.
“Who? Speak up,” he says, his own voice barely above a whisper, almost completely muffled by the door, “What's that? Strider? W-what do you want?”
Fear and mistrust run through his voice. This comes at no surprise after what you did.
You tell him that you were looking to buy an explorer's kit, if he has one available, and maybe drop in for a chat. You also start feeling a little bit awkward.
“Uhm, maybe?” Step-There sounds more confused than anything, “that's, I...listen, Strider, it's late. I can help you out tomorrow, just come by in the morning...alright?”
Evidently, with all that's happened between the two of you Step-There does not feel comfortable letting you in his home in the late evening and you doubt that you can make a convincing argument as to why he should.
Before you leave, you ask if Step-There knows of another route back to the dockside besides the path you just took.
---
A few turns and surprises later and you stop dead in your tracks.
You were sure that you took a different route this time.
Staring at you is the same stretch of filthy ground between two buildings you had walked previously, but now there is a spot of darkness in the middle of it staring at you, the criss-cross shape of a bent grate lying beside it.
Leaning against the wall, right by the open sewer, is a shape you can clearly discern despite the lack of light, almost as if the figure is darker than the shadows around it. No features, just the silhouette: a short, fat thing terminating in something like a cowl, like a lurk wrapped up in a robe.
Yet the sounds the silhouette is emitting are nothing like a lurk's characteristic growl. They are instead that same sobbing you've heard, terribly deep and shaky in spite of the figure's perfect stillness.
You think of turning back but hesitate. What if whatever uncertainty awaits around the corner behind you is even more terrible than this?
Silencing the screaming in your head, you press on, ignoring the strange shape. The sobbing gets louder as you approach, pressing almost unbearably into you as you pass the dark thing, until – for but a moment – it becomes indistinguishable from mad, wild chortling.
The void stares at you when you emerge onto the dockside and that is when you remember to breathe.
Walking the turns made you dizzy, exhausted.
This is not normal.
---
Never before have you been more relieved to see the interior of the Last Meal inn. When you enter Boxes is the sole person in the entire common room and looks to be just about done tidying up. The old hammerite startles as if you caught him doing something wrong.
“Strider? At this hour, again?” he you chides in a whisper, sighing as he does. “Well...I suppose I better prepare you a quick dinner. I haven't seen you at all these last few days.”
You tell him you appreciate it, feeling compelled to say so in a lower voice, as if afraid of disturbing the sleeping tenants through the thick walls of the inn's common room.
After settling down you watch as Boxes boils a pair of lardfruit, known for their soft, filling consistency.
“Don't think me doting,” the marble-skinned hammerite says as he brings you a steaming puree, “it's just that a lot of folk have been moving on, what with all that's been going on in the ward. It would be a shame if you dropped dead from hunger and deprived me of my well-earned rent.
Speaking of, rent is technically due as of few minutes ago, so whenever you are finished...”
Right. After finishing your meal, you put seven stacks of ten coins each on the table, and the hammerite moves quickly to scoop them up into his pouch.
“Oh, and one more thing,” he says as he sits down across from you.
To your surprise, Boxes looks around before proceeding, as if expecting that someone is watching.
“A fellow came by a few hours past the midday. To-”
You cut Boxes off, asking if he means the person who visited you in your room.
“What? You mean your lady friend, you know, last night? Nah, t'wasn't her.”
Taken aback, you tell him you didn't have a "lady friend" in mind but rather a wigged manus surrounded by scarlet-robed serving dead.
“What the Tri-” he begins before visibly regretting it, “what are you saying? Company like that I would have remembered seeing for sure, or at least the girls and guys in the kitchens would've told me something. You're joking, right?”
You sigh. Fucking thoughkills. Yes, of course you are joking – you urge Boxes to continue.
“Well, I was trying to. So, anyway, this fellow, see, they're a rare breed...” (choose 1. Your choice will add a new race and ward or location to the game.)
1A) “...a Stoneperson.” Few in number, these are tall, round humanoids. Naturally stoic, slow to action, and long living, they are fairly departed, usually staying away from the affairs of others, particularly those of other races, and expect similar treatment. Stonekin are not born but rather magically created by altering a gem or stone through sorcery, a process that is strictly illegal unless sanctioned by the Bureau of Builders. Although very few, numbering perhaps in the hundreds, at most a thousand, Stonekin live in a sort of cast-based feudal society where one's rank is dependent on the rarity of the rock they were created from. Stonekin are refugees from the Shard of Living Stone, where there was no distinction between animate and inanimate. After being consumed by the Demiurge's City, the shard turned into the infamous Screaming Quarry within the Gambit Badlands, where earth lives. (genderless)
1B) “...an Orphaned Reflection.” The true form of these people is a mystery to everyone but other shades, as they are perceived to look like their beholder – if a buzzer, a herald, and a lurk all look at an orphaned reflection, the buzzer will see themselves, the herald would see themselves, and the lurk would, too, see themselves. To add to this uncanny effect, the perceived form will be imperfect, resembling a reflection in slightly cracked or stained glass. Despite these imperfections, they make for excellent spies and infiltrators. These people are refugees from a Shard of Equal Representations, where any representation possessed power and essence equal to that which it was representing. After being devoured by Demiurge's City, the shard turned into the House of Mirrors ward, in part a jail and in another a secondary garrison made from one-way mirrors, in which all reflections are alive – the garrison can clearly see outside while anyone approaching it is faced with an army of reflections. The jail is reversed, meaning that anyone from the outside can look in, while prisoners are guarded by their own reflections. (genderless)
1C) Write-in your own race! (plus the ward/location in the City that became of their home shard after it was consumed.) As always, I have veto so if the idea is too dank I won't accept it. The race should be sufficiently distinct from the ones present already in the game, and the same goes for the wards – look at the race descriptions in post 2 to see what I am looking for, and note that your race needs 2 unique belief moves, again sufficiently different from those of other races.
“...anyway, they said to give this to you. Discreetly, you know? Here,” he produces a small wooden ring from the pocket of his apron and leaves it on the table for you to take.
“And Strider – with all that's been going on, the Guard tearing up parts of the ward and all, I don't want anything illegal happening in my inn. You've been a good tenant, always paid me on time, but I won't be able to turn a blind eye anymore.” His voice drops even lower, “Else they will take me away with you, to the College, where they'll kill us or maybe do something even worse. And for what?”
You nod and thank the old innkeeper before heading up to your room. It looks exactly as you left it, that is to say a total mess. The room stinks of sex, vomit, and you think there's a tinge of blood in there, too. Knowing that you left so many clues and tracks here makes you feel extremely vulnerable.
The bloody clothes, rags, and sheets, plus the broken alchemical glass – it would be difficult to get rid of all of this if you weren't living so close to the Void. A part of you thinks its hopeless either way, that someone must already know who you are and what you did, but you push that part of you side.
Besides, you now know that your recent crimes are nothing compared to your past ones.
After lighting a candle you sit on the edge of your bed and examine the wood ring. It is quite large, large enough to fit around a hammerite's finger. The wood's grain is very smooth, and its outer surface is inscribed with a tiny symbol of the Seekers' Guild: superimposed sensory organs of various races that form a curious diagram that resembles something different every time you look at it.
Huh. It must have been Studious after all – the veteran member of the Seekers was always satisfied with your performance in the dozen or so times that you've worked for them. But why contact you now? They were climbing the ranks pretty quick, last you remember.
Your finger traces along the ring's inner side. The smooth surface here is broken up into lines – something is inscribed on it. Turning the ring, you look closely and can just barely make out a tiny print etched into the wood.
You squint – reading this would be much easier with a looking glass, or perhaps a spyglass – and begin reading the line of words, the surface of the ring clearly holding more letters than should be possible on such a small circumference:
“To continue our relationship, please take this ring to the hidden square outside of evening hours and set it down on the ground. -S”
The hidden square? You know the place.
Putting the ring in your pocket, you lie down on the bed, trying to ignore its smell.
It takes some effort to get back up and undress before slipping under the covers, and more to fall asleep in spite of all the questions and worries rattling around in your head.
What do you do come the morning? (choose 1)
2A) Come back to Step-There's place to see if he has an Explorer's Kit you could buy, plus consult him on the Shard of Curious Depths.
2B) Spend your hard-earned coin on something useful. Tell me which goods/services you would like to purchase, and from whom (if they don't fall under one of your contacts, tell me how you plan to look for a source).
2C) Desperate times call for desperate measures. Take the worm to the Termitarium and find the door within an endless hallway. You were promised "assistance, information, and employment opportunities" by an unknown contact and you figure now is about the time to take them up on this offer.
2D) Get all the incriminating junk out of your room while you can. With your skills and the Void so close by, this shouldn't be too risky.
2E) Go to the Hidden Square. Sounds like the Seekers are offering you a job, so why not hear them out? Unless, of course, it is another set up...
2F) Take the worm to the Gambit badlands and visit your most recent employer. Lord-Foreman Steel is powerful and well-connected - and, more importantly, he agreed to stay in touch with you for future mutually-beneficial arrangements. Perhaps he can help your situation with the Officials, or else provide some valuable insight. He might even known something interesting about Lord-Inquisitor Schism in particular.
2E) Now that you don't owe Boxes anything, you might as well move out, try to hide from the Officials. If Lord-Inquisitor Schism is truly investigating you, this may raise many red flags as you would be leaving his jurisdiction. Choose where you would like to move: (This entails moving into a cheaper property, thus your lifestyle and HP recovery chance will suffer. Renting costs 5 coin per day while purchasing the cheapest property available costs 250 coins + upkeep of 10 coin a week and if you choose the latter you won't have to deal with a bothersome landlord.)
i) No need to stray far from home, nor leave Schism's jurisdiction. Rent a crappy shack in the Yards.
ii) No need to stray far from home, nor leave Schism's jurisdiction. Buy a crappy shack in the Yards.
iii) Rent a tiny room in a Facade Ghetto flophouse.
iv) Buy a tiny room in a Facade Ghetto flophouse.
v) Rent a small cave somewhere in the Termitarium - the place is just as dangerous if not more chaotic than the Ghetto, but you might blend in marginally better there.
vi) Buy a small cave somewhere in the Termitarium - the place is just as dangerous if not more chaotic than the Ghetto, but you might blend in marginally better there.
2F) Do something else, please specify what.
Total expenses: 78 coin. 70 coin rent, 5 for provisions, 3 for carriage.
Both were created by players in my PnP campaign (as were the buzzers, actually.) This setting/system works very well for player-GM collaborative worldbuilding.
Tentatively 1B. I'd like to try my hand at inventing a race, but if I don't do it in time for the next update just go with 1B.
2D - That hidden square thing is very intriguing, and I'd very much like to follow up on that, but first things first. Don't need to make it easy for the investigators, and people seem to have no trouble getting into our room. Our next priority should still be getting the kit and talking to Step-There. The day of our departure is coming up soon, and given what we know so far about the Shard of Curious Depths I imagine we'll be very happy for that kit once we get there.
hello friend if you are still up to invent a race, I will just go ahead and wait until you guys decide to go to the Hidden Square, then have a re-vote to decide Studios' race. If you don't come up with a race idea until then or if you do not visit the Hidden Square, we will roll with rockbois. Part 34 - Keeping up Appearances
The darkness shifts above the mass of churning clay, revealing things that are alive yet still, like animated statues. Within them you see both the curiosity of a child and the vigilance of a father.
Heavy tears drop from these mischievous eyes.
---
You are awoken by pangs of remembrance.
This could have been a usual morning for you - stagnant and quietly desperate - but the strange dream, still clinging to your mind, gives it an air of importance. You are clearly trapped in the middle of overlapping plans and schemes which are slowly progressing towards an inevitable conclusion. Dark dreams, voices, and paranoia are nothing more than puzzle pieces, gradually clicking into their places in your mind.
First, let's consider paranoia.
---
After neatly sweeping up all of the glass into a small pile, you set upon cutting up your old, bloody clothes into rags. When that is done you gather the fragments into the rags, tying the latter into a dozen or so small pouches which you then stuff into various parts of your coat and trousers. Everything else can be cleaned or aired out. After the stench is gone, memories of crawling back here wounded and abusing illegal substances will become increasingly more distant, until you will forget it all and it will be as if such things never took place...
Descending into the unusually quiet common room, you skip breakfast and exit the inn, heading to the nearest market square. You avoid looking at people in the street, watching the void instead. The dock is busy with voidships and one of them - a free ship, perhaps two stories high and the length of three or four Last Meal Inns - slowly flies towards the nearby shard, turning into an ever smaller blotch in the distance with each passing minute.
The market is not busy. Today's crier is a female buzzer dressed in fashions cut for male heralds, hose and all. You are surprised that you can actually hear her from the edge of the square, which would be impossible on a busier day. You move through the stalls, mostly looking, occasionally stopping to buy something cheap and mundane - all to kill time and blend in, give anyone who might be tailing you a vision of something resembling a normal life. The notice board is bare save for a few scraps of parchment.
"Denizens of the Voidship Yards ward, do not hesitate to report unusual, distressing, or threatening happenings to the local branches of the Bureau of Builders, local Temple Guard posts, or Lord-Inquisitor Schism; remember that change is sister to chaos!"
The ward continues reminding everyone in it that it is changing, yet somehow you doubt that the Officials are going to be getting many enthusiastic reports any time soon. As they say, the folk of the Yards are an adventurous lot, and the Officials hold adventure in contempt on the best and most merciful of days.
"The Auspicious Assembly declares herald Steel, formerly Lord-Foreman, to be the next Seneschal of the Gambit Badlands ward!"
You can't help but shiver slightly. Steel works fast, the bastard.
"Now, news pertaining to the Shard of Curious Depths, graciously released by the noble Censors College..."
You try to catch all of the crier's words while pretending to examine the bellmaker's wares. You learn that the first expeditionary ships returned a day or two ago, but that most of the independent ones are still being examined by customs. Such a holdup is not terribly unusual and bodes well for the future independent exploitation of the shard, as the Officials would have set up a blockade and forbid any access to it if they thought it was necessary. As for the shard itself, the College's statement - one that is typically made from expeditionary reports, constructed most carefully to support whatever agenda the Censors feel like pushing at any given time - claims it to be a place very difficult to navigate, one that actively deceives the senses. Apparently, the first missions have revealed that the shard possesses properties that may or may not be useful to the City. How wonderfully vague. The matter of the shard's absorption is, of course, solely up to the Demiurge's judgement.
Suddenly alarmed by heavy, approaching steps, you turn to find a shambling hammerite fast-approaching. You are draped with shadow as a hideously ugly male of an indeterminant age, a complete giant nearly twice your height - hunched over - towers over you and lunges with a surprising speed, pressing a single crooked finger into your gambeson-clad chest. Your hand flies to your swordcane's handle but the hammerite swiftly draws back.
"Nice gahr-ment," the hunchback sneers, revealing a maw of blackened, rotting teeth. "Me sister's a seem-stress. Belike ye like-ta visit'er?"
Having said his little bit, the hardhead shuffles away, though his stench lingers. You curse under your breath. Of course nothing is free in the void. Looks like one interested party or another wants you to drag your ass all the way to the Termitarium.
Oh well, you've spent more than enough time keeping up appearances; time to find some place along the dock where you can throw away your trash. You return to the dockside strip and head nowhere in particular, going where your legs take you. How can anyone track you when you have no idea where you are going?
You pass a trio of of freebooter voidships absolutely infested with mailed guardsmen.
Outside your inn, a familiar preacher fails to get your attention.
Time passes and you find yourself staring at a rough metal floor which turns abruptly into nothingness. You imagine, idly, the disused dock that was one here. Over there, after two or three turns, you've met the kid, the young pimp. And right there Seamstress' shack stood at the very edge, surrounded by frayed metal. Was it first to crumble? Was it the catalyst for the dock's collapse and the ward's peculiar change? It was, after all, a place that concealed all manner of sins, including Whisper's.
Or was it your own suicidal curiosity? Did you steal that which the void was meant to claim, quietly damning your little world?
You chuckle grimly. These sorts of thoughts make the void seem almost tempting.
Is there a bottom to the void - perhaps an abyss of some sort? How many of your sins has it accumulated? How many regrets, dead friends, lost dreams, these little deaths of yours? You throw some of the most recent ones off the edge. Let sins and garbage pile on.
You close your eyes and stay still. With no buildings between you and the void, the shard's magical atmosphere shines directly on you with its light and heat, the kind that makes you forget everything, if only for a moment. You bathe in its caresses for a while and as soon as you begin to lose balance you step well away from the edge.
---
The morning of the sixth day has passed. Choose one:
2A) Come back to Step-There's place to see if he has an Explorer's Kit you could buy, plus consult him on the Shard of Curious Depths.
2B) Spend your hard-earned coin on something useful. Tell me which goods/services you would like to purchase, and from whom (if they don't fall under one of your contacts, tell me how you plan to look for a source).
2C) Desperate times call for desperate measures. Take the worm to the Termitarium and find the door within an endless hallway. You were promised "assistance, information, and employment opportunities" by an unknown contact and you figure now is about the time to take them up on this offer. Not to mention they may or may not have sent someone to "remind you" of this little favour...
2D) Go to the Hidden Square. Sounds like the Seekers are offering you a job, so why not hear them out? Unless, of course, it is another set up...
2E) Take the worm to the Gambit badlands and visit your most recent employer. Now-Seneschal Steel is powerful and well-connected - and, more importantly, he agreed to stay in touch with you for future mutually-beneficial arrangements. Perhaps he can help your situation with the Officials, or else provide some valuable insight. He might even known something interesting about Lord-Inquisitor Schism in particular.
2F) Try to track down sailors and/or freebooters who have been to the Shard of Curious Depths and learn what you can from them.
2G) Now that you don't owe Boxes anything, you might as well move out, try to hide from the Officials. If Lord-Inquisitor Schism is truly investigating you, this may raise many red flags as you would be leaving his jurisdiction. Choose where you would like to move: (This entails moving into a cheaper property, thus your lifestyle and HP recovery chance will suffer. Renting costs 5 coin per day while purchasing the cheapest property available costs 250 coins + upkeep of 10 coin a week and if you choose the latter you won't have to deal with a bothersome landlord.)
i) No need to stray far from home, nor leave Schism's jurisdiction. Rent a crappy shack in the Yards.
ii) No need to stray far from home, nor leave Schism's jurisdiction. Buy a crappy shack in the Yards.
iii) Rent a tiny room in a Facade Ghetto flophouse.
iv) Buy a tiny room in a Facade Ghetto flophouse.
v) Rent a small cave somewhere in the Termitarium - the place is just as dangerous if not more chaotic than the Ghetto, but you might blend in marginally better there.
vi) Buy a small cave somewhere in the Termitarium - the place is just as dangerous if not more chaotic than the Ghetto, but you might blend in marginally better there.
2H) Do something else, please specify what.
For the record, I did roll the rest dice. Got a 3 and a 4, so you do not recover any additional HP.
Okay, this is what I've got so far. I'm worried it might be overly exotic, but here goes:
The Transit (Transits), (Stinkers) are from the absorbed shard of Shard of Possibility. They are bipedal creatures of potential; At any moment, they'll split into several incarnations, typically between 3 and 5. These incarnations are translucent, and become gradually more transparent over the course of up to ten seconds before vanishing, except for one which grows more opaque before again splitting into multiple incarnations. Which incarnation remains is not consciously chosen. They are known to be industrious, due to their labour capacity, and are overrepresented in occupations such as manufacture, farming and theatre. A Transit is always visibly changing, and will fluctuate in height somewhat, although not dramatically, and will gradually change colours, becoming more or less hairy. Their two fingers and two opposable thumbs end in claws. They have two eyes, although their eyesight is poor, and four elephantine trunks that pick up the nuanced smells extruded through their sweat with which they communicate. A small toothless mouth beneath the trunks. Not a race naturally lent to emotion, it became at some point a point of fashion among them to affect nuances of emotion and change them in much the same way as people change clothes - these fashions change quick, and a Transit that appears to be angry but hopeful the one day will be euphorically impassive the next. The more fashion conscious will also be judgemental of unfashionable displays of emotion, even in non-Transits. Similarly, trends are constantly changing in all clothing and all sorts of cultural pursuits. Festivals and musical styles, and so on, can spring up and disappear overnight.
The Shard of Possibility was more ephemeral pre-absorption, in keeping with the shifting expectations the Transits had to their environment. After being absorbed by the demiurge, Shard of Possibility solidified into a realm of dull clay. This collapsed their way of life, but grass and vegetable seeds were brought over from other wards. Dirt and sand was, and still is, brought in from the Badlands in order to cultivate workable soil. Most Transits lead simple lives in clay brick huts, as farmers or crafters. The ability to commit long term to complex endeavours is a rarity, and few rise to significant wealth or power. Those that do are very influential in their feudal communities, being the most strong willed and least flighty of the bunch. This influence can be exploitative, but tend to be in a form more along the lines of a manager being well compensated for herding cats rather than any sort of totalitarianism.
Belief move:
*do several things at once
*pinpoint hidden creature, object by smell (if applicable)
Damn hallo freund, if only you were one of the players in my campaign. It would have been a real bitch to run then, that's for sure, but also much more interesting.
If I come up with any comments/questions/concerns regarding this concept, I will share them later this week.
Sorry for wonky update times. Got a new rig together, dealing with the (un)usual windows/driver updating bullshit and tuning. New Torment stuffies hopefully within the next few weeks or month at most. Hopefully.
Holy shit it's been three months. Here is what I have now. Shouldn't be too long until the rest of the update & choices.
Part 34.5 – Crooked and Wrong
The inn is appropriately busy when you return to eat, though only as far as the quantity of its patrons. Crews, labourers, travellers, plausible robbers, and probable killers are eating, conversing, gossiping and every single one of them is terrified. Eyes travel the room like throwing knives and always end up on the floor. Sweaty hands shovel food into desperate mouths with all the urgency and shame of rapists. You suppress the voice urging you to keep to your own bloody business and examine the scared, hungry faces.
The changes to this ward's rules...it is as if the Officials arrested and executed the very spirit of adventure that resided here. Transgression has been stripped of virtue and reduced to this paranoid daydream, to something strange and demented.
You are just done eating when you notice a crimson hair stuck to your woolen sleeve. From a wig, you realize. Another half-remembered thing, so recent and so miniscule, and yet it seems infinitely obscene, enough to bring bile to the back of your throat. Such a tiny shame compared to the rest, so why does it bother you? Because the ward makes sure, or...
Your eyes are on the floor. You wonder if it won't crack soon, collapse like that lecherous little shantytown. Such is the nature of the wards, the shards, people - of all that is in the Void. They are bound by rules, yet rules are nothing but manifestations of belief. Enough stagnation and they rot. Enough unity and they merge. Enough terror and despair and guilt and they crack.
If the fringe of this ward had collapsed, what of the rest? Perhaps the floor you are staring at is already criss-crossed with cracks like thin webs, so tiny they cannot be seen by a naked eye, not even by a beholder. A crack for every sanctioned shame. Here is Dozens, a talented and successful manus artist who came dangerously close to romanticizing the form of other races in his paintings. Here is Eager, a herald that never enjoyed a pampered upbringing like the majority of his race, who nevertheless lives for charitable work and happens to write blasphemous texts he shares with a few trusted people in the Seekers Guild. Here is Basket, a devout mother of six and a prostitute so poor and wretched she is rumoured to take clients of any race out desperation. And here is Boxes - a quiet hammerite, a good person - and he could be hurtling through the void for asking too few questions, for hiding cowards and thieves and killers...
And then there is you.
---
This walk to Step-There's house is nowhere as terrifying as the last one. One corner leads you to a small group of youths trying to defecate into a collection of pots and pans. The expressions you see on their manus faces - shortly before they turn tail and run as if chased by the Trickster - are almost enough to make you smile if not for the stench twisting your face into something like a grimace.
You stop and fish your pockets for a handkerchief. The stink is severe, seemingly trapped by the surrounding walls. The alleys about you seem ever more like a cruel maze. You turn to the side of the building to your left, suddenly curious. You put a gloved hand on the wall, run it down the rough brickwork. Run the hand down...and feel it travel at an angle.
A realization.
The alleys seem cramped, crooked, and wrong because the walls are so. They bend outward, turning each building into an inverted square pyramid - like Lord Sees-It's grand airship that never was - and yet this transformation is so subtle that until now you have only noticed it subliminally.
---
After some time you finally arrive at the dingy warehouse side entrance that now serves as Step-There's front door.
It doesn't take you long to draw your smallsword.
His front door is open a slightest crack. You prowl up to it, put an ear near.
Muffled moans come from within.
You spend the next few moments in sweaty indecision. What do you do?
What's it to you?
Another life taken because of you...
What's one more?!
Heartbeats like fists in your chest.
He lied. He got involved. He asked, he fucking asked for it!
Do something.
You feel very sick.
Fucking coward.
You burst through the room, more out of desperation than anything else.
"Trickster take you, Strider!" Step-There shrieks, "you've the worst timing!"
You stare at the tangled mess of hands and fur for but a second before folding at the waist and releasing your lunch onto the floor. It tastes like bile and puree. The room smells like it, too.
"Hello again, good shardwalker," Quiet says, somehow maintaining her composure under the covers.
Was pondering some of the earlier stuff in this CYOA. Remember that manus in the now-collapsed shanty that supposedly bred scrap-eating beasts? To give the shanty the purpose of scrap disposal? You know, the shanty that is hanging off the edge of the fucking shard, so that anyone who wants to get rid of scrap could just throw it off the side in the first place?
Oof. Not good.
Oh well, I suppose we live and hope that the next thing we """write""" is going to make slightly more sense than the last, eh?
The musky smell sneaks up on you, mostly kept at bay by the smoke of hastily lit candles. Were you a beholder, you would surely never cease vomiting.
After cleaning up - perhaps the most awkward thing you've done in your life - the three of you assemble at the center of the room. Quiet sits on Step-There's only chair and the male manus pulled up some crate where, you assume given the lack of any sort of cabinet or chest, he ordinarily uses to store his belongings. There is not much in the way of furniture in the room, which is tiny - perhaps three quarters of your own cramped, yellow lair. You eye the blanket-covered cot in the corner of the room and wonder how its size is sufficient for...
Unclean thoughts.
You refuse any sort of makeshift sitting, electing to stand so that you may better pace the strange and nervous away. Quiet, her eyes tell you, understands why. As you converse with the two you repeatedly catch her trying to suppress a mischievous smile.
The three of you talk about this and that - Step-There's sparse arrangements and your own, how Quiet found the time to get away from her duties in the Plaza, although she says nothing as to how she retained her position with Loyalty's passing. No word about that which occured in the manor. Ironically, the happenings that led to your acquaintance have been too confused, too hurtful for any of you to discuss.
All things considered, the conversation is bizarre - mostly inconsequential small talk that would be intolerable in any other context, shared by almost-strangers that hurt and lied to each other, directly or indirectly, in the past few days...but for some reason you can't help but cling to the company of these mani and dread the thought of departure. Their eyes tell you that they share this sentiment, albeit they feel it less profoundly. Step-There's barren life, the struggle of Quiet's obvious intellect against the lies and empty vanity of the Officials, and your own torment...perhaps it is your own shared strangeness that makes the conversation seem right, somehow.
And then there is this connection, this feeling thick with faith and hope and what have you that runs between the mani. As with many things, you see it in their eyes - when they intersect. Then there is Step-There's hand, cradling the curve where Quiet's shoulder blade meets with her left back arm. It is a gesture of restraint in the knowledge that this is as far as they can go while you are still here, and were you to leave...
It is as if the two of them have drowned out the ward's neurotic will, turned this barren room into sanctuary. The idiot even left his door open - in this ward! At this time!
"I had considered walking the shards again, you know. This one, actually," Step-There says, referring in the manner of Seekers to the current nearby shard - your destination. "I've, uh, reconsidered it...the one after the next, perhaps."
"Or the one after that," Quiet says, at once teasing and counseling.
The two are resoundingly infatuated to make plans like an old couple a few days after having met. You feel something approaching contempt and immediately resent yourself for resenting their infatuation. These mani are being foolish indeed, and yet...
The Shard of Curious Depths - that is where you want to go, you mention. Unfortunately, Step-There claims that he did not have the time to research it.
"Does sound like a wondrous place based on the Censors' account, doesn't it? Could very well be one of the better ones" he says, speaking of shards that feature much wonder with but a pinch of terror and not the other way around.
This does bring the two of you to the topic of shardwalking and finally the conversation becomes substantive. You begin swapping tales in the manner shared by the few belonging to your profession - excitement bordering on desperation. Quiet, having nothing to add, simply becomes a curious listener, awe in her little manus eyes.
You recall the Dying Shard, upon which every breath was manual. While you adjusted to this change quickly, some had died out of the false belief that the shard's air was poison when all they had to do was force themselves to breathe. You muse that after absorption, the shard turned into the Silent Room somewhere within the walls of Censors College, a place supposedly conducive to contemplation and study of bodily functions.
Then there was the Shard of Wretches - a massive stretch of canyons and deep gullies of rock that concealed a sprawling cavern network beneath, solely inhabited by tiny weeping creatures. It turned out that the shard itself made wretches of others by greatly expanding in size and scope such that it dwarfed any observers. When the first parties arrived from Demiurge's Shard, it turned out that these sorrowful, peculiar beings were parts of the shard in relation to the outsiders - would-be giants before observing wretches. Within an hour, valleys turned into cliffs and small beasts into towering, raving humanoids that tore people into bits with their bare hands, perhaps more out of curiosity of their newly-found forms than anything else - weeping as they did. When the voidship that took you to the shard crashed into suddenly monolithic rocks, it was you who led a number of surviving passengers through the caverns and towards the closest portal home, aided by your excellent sense of direction.
For every story you tell, it appears that Step-There has two - while the manus was never particularly successful, he is nothing but prolific. Something gets caught in your throat when he mentions the Shard of Watchers, nothing less than a curse among shardwalkers. With a voice hushed by old, deep fears as opposed to theatrics, Step-There tells you of how he survived in a place where one's sight came from the perspective of the nearest predatory creature to observe them. The creatures were many, enough so that at all times one would be watched through predatory eyes - or so say the shard's survivors. The only saving grace is that the creatures, although of many sharps limbs, were sluggish in movement and especially slow to react to objects in their peripheral vision. Thus Step-There had to survive by constantly remaining in the very edge of his - that being the predator's - vision, while simultaneously seeking means of concealment and searching for the portal out of the shard.
"The rules, it is all about the rules," Step-There states and you wholeheartedly agree. "Rules like our rules. I mean, some people from the Plaza get killed in the Ghetto or the Termitarium for their unfamiliarity with a single rule. Now, you go to another shard, and you might have to learn how to walk again. That's why survivors - like, like us I suppose - we discern the rules first and foremost."
Valuable thing to remember when you walk the Shard of Curious Depths.
Rules are funny things - they are everywhere, they must be, yet on Demiurge's Shard they are prone to fickle change as they are defined by the will of Demiurge and the intelligent people of his making. How is it that other shards have their rules, possessing no civilized people or Gods to shape them, is a great mystery for the Demiurge insists that nowhere else but his shard do such things exist...and to say otherwise is blasphemy punishable by death.
Even the Void, infinite and infinitely chaotic as it is, seems to operate on a fundamental rule: belief is power. Belief is rules.
Rules and punishments.
Punishments doled out by hounding inquisitors...
Suddenly, an opportunity.
You mention that you worry the Lord-Inquisitor of the Voidship Yards is sure to keep his ear to the ground to reports of any portals or illegal transport leading to the Shard of Curious Depths and that would certainly make travelling there very risky at this time. With but a glance you ask Quiet if she knows anything of Schism.
The words come in a stutter. For a moment you expect Quiet to rebuke you.
"I must admit that my professional duties rarely intersect with Lords of other wards," Quiet replies with an impish smile, "but that is not to say that I can't find out more about the good Lord-Inquisitor and his dealings..."
"What?!" Step-There barks suddenly, almost outraged, before throwing the meanest bastard child of an angry look at you. Don't bring her into this, don't destroy this, it seems to scream. Perhaps the manus was far too naïve to think that your mutual abuse over.
"It would be mutually beneficial. It is no secret that this ward is changing, and the recent arrests, seizures, and executions overseen by Lord-Inquisitor Schism - and the Censors College, by extension - are driving these changes. "
"But you work in the Plaza - what does any of this have to do with you? Why get involved?" Step-There protests, clearly out of his depth.
"Because," Quiet sighs before answering in a patient tone, "every ward is contested by everyone. I'm sure philosophers have some elaborate way to describe the phenomenon, but in my circles we call it the rat race. All factions - the official, the tolerated, most certainly the illegal ones - have fluctuating levels of sway over people and the wards they form. A preacher tending to her congregation, an armed patrol bringing safety to backstreets - these spread the love of peace and purpose, the dogma of the Temple Guard. A pickpocket, on the other hand, may show some that profit must be ceased from others and thus the misguided ideology of the Takers finds fresh victims. And then the armed patrol catches the pickpocket...
"A ward is conquered by a faction the tenants of which align most closely to the majority of the ward's people. Even then, the race is not over - it never is - for few beliefs are static, few rules are forever. Just look outside, Step-There. It is not often that I travel here, and even I can see the changes...and the fear, if you would allow me.
"All factions, even allied ones, are in constant competition whether they realize it or not. Like rats forced to race, they are thrown into... a maze, say, and off they go in a desperate frenzy. Blind rats aren't spared from participation, they simply have no idea that they are losing."
"And you'd willingly participate in this? After what hap-"
"Step-There." Quiet cuts him off, her smile gone. Her eyes meet his with a naked intensity of a teacher driving a crucial concept into a student's mind. "This is what I do. This is my life, one that I am able to live unburdened by...complications, shall we say, thanks to you. You will allow me to repay you by helping your friend, yes?"
Step there seemingly shrinks into his chair. He glances at you and there is no more anger in his eyes, only gnawing worry underneath pride and sadness. It is as if this was Quiet's idea all along, as if you never posed the question to her - and he is proud and terrified of that.
"So," Quiet continues gently, "you say you must leave tomorrow night, good Strider? I must admit that this is all very short notice, but I will see if I cannot get a number of people to make the right queries and get something like a preliminary report to you, say, tomorrow in the early evening. I hope you find that satisfactory."
Of course you do, having expected much less.
Quiet teases your mind, somehow - her eyes carrying surface emotions far more nuanced than those of most, the way she can be casual one moment, intensely rhetorical the next, then affect kindness - and yet she doesn't seem a two-face but the picture of honesty, as if every facet of her is genuine, even her tact and her lies.
"Uhm," Step-There clears his throat and addresses Quiet indecisively, "may I ask you something...may I ask you something about the edicts, then? I've always found it, well...strange, I suppose, that the Demiurge has never enforced his worship. I mean, he made us, that and the language of his edicts and even the Officials' legislature is full of religious terms - anathema this, blasphemy that - yet one can question his divinity, defy it even, and do so openly with no punishment except maybe the kind vexing the pious would necessarily entail.
"But, uh...to speak of, hmm, to speak of other Gods, of personhood and intelligence upon other shards, that is punished as swiftly and harshly as can be, by Demiurge's own edict. But...why? The only answer that seems to make sense is that such claims are forbidden because they challenge his godhood, yet anyone is free to do so openly, so why..."
The manus pauses and looks at the floor. The finger of his head are tense, slightly curled. Tiny beads of sweat begin to form on the long hairs of his face.
"Why allow one and punish the other? Where is the..."
Consistency. He doesn't dare ask, though.
But there is no judgement in Quiet's eyes or tone, only patience. "Perhaps," she says with a gentle smile, "some ideas are more dangerous than others. And not all ideas can be equally compelled."
You shiver at the words. What she says is obvious and yet it makes you wonder nonetheless.
When one looks at the groups of people, at wards, at Demiurge's shard, it is possible to see the cause and effect of belief affecting actions, actions affecting belief, belief affecting belief.
But what compels you? What is the cause of this fear and desperation that hounds you for barely remembered crimes?
For a moment of self-reflection, your past actions seem simultaneously weightless and grievous.
A moment of pleasure and a moment of decadence. A living and a life of crime.
The death of a beast and the slaughter of a God.
What compels you to think that the former are the latter?
And why is it that when you are with these mani, you...
You decide that it is time for you to leave.
You did buy an Explorer's Kit from Step-There for 20 coin offscreen, as was the plan.
How do you spend the evening?
A) Spend your hard-earned coin on something useful. Tell me which goods/services you would like to purchase, and from whom (if they don't fall under one of your contacts, tell me how you plan to look for a source).
B) Desperate times call for desperate measures. Take the worm to the Termitarium and find the door within an endless hallway. You were promised "assistance, information, and employment opportunities" by an unknown contact and you figure now is about the time to take them up on this offer. Not to mention they may or may not have sent someone to "remind you" of this little favour...
C) Take the worm to the Gambit badlands and visit your most recent employer. Now-Seneschal Steel is powerful and well-connected - and, more importantly, he agreed to stay in touch with you for future mutually-beneficial arrangements. Perhaps he can help your situation with the Officials, or else provide some valuable insight. He might even known something interesting about Lord-Inquisitor Schism in particular.
D) Try to track down sailors and/or freebooters who have been to the Shard of Curious Depths and learn what you can from them.
E) Now that you don't owe Boxes anything, you might as well move out, try to hide from the Officials. If Lord-Inquisitor Schism is truly investigating you, this may raise many red flags as you would be leaving his jurisdiction. Choose where you would like to move: (This entails moving into a cheaper property, thus your lifestyle and HP recovery chance will suffer. Renting costs 5 coin per day while purchasing the cheapest property available costs 250 coins + upkeep of 10 coin a week and if you choose the latter you won't have to deal with a bothersome landlord.)
i) No need to stray far from home, nor leave Schism's jurisdiction. Rent a crappy shack in the Yards.
ii) No need to stray far from home, nor leave Schism's jurisdiction. Buy a crappy shack in the Yards.
iii) Rent a tiny room in a Facade Ghetto flophouse.
iv) Buy a tiny room in a Facade Ghetto flophouse.
v) Rent a small cave somewhere in the Termitarium - the place is just as dangerous if not more chaotic than the Ghetto, but you might blend in marginally better there.
vi) Buy a small cave somewhere in the Termitarium - the place is just as dangerous if not more chaotic than the Ghetto, but you might blend in marginally better there.
