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"We live on a placid island of ignorance in the midst of black seas of infinity, and it was not meant that we should voyage far." Chapter 1: Inbound Red emergency lighting sends deep shadows hurtling outwards as airlocks cycle before you. ESCO troopers wave you onwards, and even the hulking form of a purebred dire hyena cannot elicit anything more than a steady pan of their helmets to watch you. You only just debarked from the Aludel, a research submarine that shuttled the lot of you from the Raft to this, XK-Masada. Originally intended to be another research outpost remote from Aqualantis itself, construction plans were fast tracked upon Aqualantis' disappearance. The distant ping of water droplets on girders, an inescapable cold dampness, and the occasional distressing groan of metal under stress tells you everything you need to know about the haste with which it was completed. You pass by numerous branching corridors, with signs informing you that Unauthorized Personnel attempting to enter the reactor will be met with lethal force, or that This Way leads to the civilian sector of the base, and that it is appreciated that you do not smoke outside of designated areas. After a turn and another identical looking corridor, you finally come to a door with a hastily written cardboard sign attached to it, identifying it as Base Commander Durell's office. One of the troops standing guard bangs once, loudly, on the door and you hear a deep basso profundo invite you to come inside.  Within, a large metal desk sits just off to the side in a room clearly not meant for purpose. An empty barracks, maybe. At least the bright white lighting chases the shadows away. At the desk sits a brick of a man. Human, and even froma cursory glance he is clearly military. A partially disassembled pistol sits to one side of the desk while notebooks, binders, and loose sheefs of paper cover up the majority of the rest. A single large mug sits in front of him staining a blueprint with a dark brown circle. He stands and walks around the desk, extending a hand to each of you in turn. "Gabriel Durell, acting commander of ESCO. I have been informed by people more important than I am that I should work with you to best of my ability." Anastasia What a shithole. If this place weren't underwater, it would fall over in a stiff breeze. And the chill already sucks. Hell, it's been sucking since you got on that submarine. Good thing you have Chuckles to snuggle up with and stay warm. How did you convince the morons topside to let the Duchess onto the Aludel, anyway? Konas You can read it in their body language. Disciplined they might be, but these are still land dwellers. The fear of all that water above is obvious to you. ESCO (Emergency Strategic Coordination) were often your people's enemy during the war. Now, they have been mostly defanged. The old guard either dead or drummed out, the new blood in place strictly as peacekeepers while Aqualantis tried to find its feet again. How do you feel about these soldiers now that they are nominally on your side? Krishga As you walk the halls, your trained eyes catch glimpses now and again of reassuring signs. A bulkhead with a peculiar rivet pattern, or catwalks painted a particular shade of gunmetal grey that nobody else uses. It all points to goblin know-how ensuring this deathtrap doesn't collapse in on itself. If your instincts are right, goblins helped put this place together, if they didn't straight up draft the blueprints. If things were to get dicey, what safeguards have your people secreted in this base that you could use to escape? Branwen This loving place again. Sure, you weren't here, but you led your squad through plenty of identical looking places and watched them die. And unlike everyone else, you didn't have the benefit of ten years to let the memory dim. On the upside: you are Chosen, and being Chosen is a really excellent way to keep your head above the bullshit. Speaking of bullshit, what variety are you expecting? Everybody: What do you do? Shardix fucked around with this message at 04:00 on May 13, 2020 |
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May 13, 2020 02:58
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  ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ BLOOD: 2 || COURAGE: 1 || GRACE: 2 || SENSE: -1 || WISDOM: 0 ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ I didn’t come here to air out grievances in their faces, and I’m glad they know this. Or at least they should. They should also know what training they have. If they did, they’d probably know one strongmer with a scowl would go down without concern. Not unless they gave a gun and armor to anyone with a pulse. They shouldn’t have anything to worry about, which is why my sense of ease is 'nominal.' Still... better than the old soldiers back in the War. They would've tried to kill me on the spot, and then the whole base would've been the fight those Drylanders were scrapping for. I'd cleave my way out of the compound, while Olan would've put a knife in anyone who got ideas of retaliation. It would be a bloodbath and we'd both lose in that. New meat is new meat, but they'll have more sense. “How about we start with what you’re willing to disclose to us, commander.” At least that can be easy. pre:/r 2d6-1 #Look Closely Room Xom (dicebot) BOT Today at 8:55 PM @Konas (AnonymousIdiot): 2d6-1 Look Closely Room = (1+2)-1 = 2 Konas (AnonymousIdiot)Today at 8:56 PM This is why Konas is muscle. pre:What's going on? What are my senses telling me? AnAnonymousIdiot fucked around with this message at 23:16 on May 13, 2020 |
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May 13, 2020 03:51
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quote:What's going on? What are my senses telling me? You detect a hint of caustic cleaning chemicals that the odors of general living have not quite scrubbed away yet. But as your eyes flick across the room and the commander before you, what jumps out at you is the scar on the side of Durell's neck. It is a brand of Triton origin, but of another tribe so you can't be positive of it's precise meaning. What you do know is that either this man owes his life to a triton, or a triton owes their life to him. If the former it could prove useful leverage in the future. If the latter...harder to say.
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May 13, 2020 04:22
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 Well, the XK Masada is a right bucket of junk, and I don’t mean the kind a good Goblin engineer would build, which might look like junk but performs just as well as any fancy-looking other machinery. Alright, I can see the handiwork of someone who knew what they were doing at least, which might be the thing keeping this mess of steel and bolts from sinking right down to the bottom of the sea. Goblin ingenuity! Which makes sense, because from everything I can see, they had to build this place fast. And who’s the best if you don’t have enough time, not enough material, no proper plan? Us. Okay, okay, that riveting over there is dwarven, that’s a bulkhead by some human workshop I currently can’t think the name of, but, still. I can tell. Goblin craftsmanship. Which is why I know there’s goblin-sized maintenance tunnels all over this place that most of the tall folk don’t even know about in detail. Nothing sinister, mind you, but full of redundant systems and spare parts. Hey, it only makes sense - you work on a project like this, something always gets left over. You wanna throw it in the sea? Better to keep all that salvage handy for an emergency, whatever kind of emergency that may be. Sure, in normal cases, you just cannibalize a redundant system to get the parts to fix a broken one, but if you get attacked by some sort of undersea zombies, being able to build a rivet gun right quick can be quite handy. Oh, and there might just be enough parts to build escape pods for Goblins in case, say, it turns out all the tall folk already took the places in the regular escape pods, not that I am accusing some companies of knowingly cutting corners so there’s only enough seats for, ah, essential personnel. Would never cross my mind. But, that’s all beside the point. Right now, Commander Slickback here is going around the room shaking hands, only problem is, he’s several times my height. Krishga raises a finger, walks over to one of the metal chairs in the corner and starts to noisily drag it towards the center of the room, metal scraping on metal. “It’s alright, I got it. I got it.” When the chair is where she wants it, she dusts off her hands and climbs onto it and, with a nod, firmly shakes Commander Durell’s hand. “Commander! Krishga Tazz, Goblin inventor extraordinaire, pleased to meet you and all that. So, like my friend here just said, you can start with what you can disclose, then, after that, you can move on to telling us what you can’t normally disclose, and we’ll go from there. How does that sound?” Krishga flashes a brief grin. The Goblin leans back against the back of the chair as if she was lounging against a wall, her comparatively beefy and tattooed arms crossed. “Or you can tell us what’s on your plate that needs looking at that maybe we can help with first. I mean, some of that creaking I heard in the halls…” Krishga takes out her trusty wrench and gently taps against a nearby pipe and doesn't seem entirely pleased by the noises that produces. “I’m just saying, I could take a look at something if you’re having technical difficulties. But… have you been briefed about what we are here for?” nil. fucked around with this message at 10:36 on May 14, 2020 |
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May 13, 2020 18:21
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 --------------------------------------------------------------------------- BLD +2 || COU +1 || GRA +2 || SEN -1 || WIS +0 STR •• | CNG •• | TUF •• | WPN •••• FOOD ••• | BOOZE •• | TRAP ••• | GEAR ••  : Cruel Beast [] || Carpe Jugulum []--------------------------------------------------------------------------- Oh, she won't be no harm to nobody without my say-so. I showed the lads her tack and her pedigree and saddle; put her through her paces: go, come, fetch, stay. They had me muzzle her; no problem, she's used to it. She'll be a good girl. Long as she's with me. "Stay, chucklebutt. Okay?" She whines quietly as I stoop through the hatch. Legroom, finally. While Krishga's doing her act with the chair I sidle on in and take a seat on the floor. He's got a whole barracks to hisself; plenty of room to stretch out. I know a hard case when I see one, and I figure he won't want me being all obtrusive until he's said his piece, so I just keep my trap shut for a while and make sure Duchess has a good line of sight to me. I give her the "all good" sign just in case; she's a little bit on edge with all these new sounds and smells around. Maybe I can buttonhole him later for the name of his supply clerk - outfit like his has to have some extra bolts of cloth in stores. Stitch myself up some ship-knits or something; I'm loving freezing in here. Ocean's kinda cold, huh, girl? Should have thought of that before I got on the boat. Alumnus Post fucked around with this message at 16:19 on May 14, 2020 |
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May 13, 2020 22:52
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 --------------------------------------------------------------------------- BLD +2 || COU +1 || GRA -1 || SEN +0 || WIS +2 Blessings: Strength[ ] || Speed[ ] || Glory[ ] || Power[ ][ ] Gear: Armor[ ] || Fuel[ ][ ][ ] Hilda: Crack Shot[ ] || Quick As A Bullet [ ] --------------------------------------------------------------------------- His lingering glare, however brief in the face of Krishga's antics, tell Branwen all she needs to know. Aqualantis' distaste for her Matron's glories hasn't changed. And now on edge from the worst one could imagine and then some crushing down like the water surrounding the place, every ESCO will be on edge and craving whatever control they could possibly have in the situation. For now, having heeded advice, and having acquiesced to the group, Durell was likely fairly stable. If the same can't be said of the troops under him however, he might become more familiar with with the more esoteric and metaphorical of Bombarda's glories. Branwen for her part, relaxes into a parade rest, waiting for Durell's response.
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May 14, 2020 15:29
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Everyone https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UrCDrSS2LD4 (Parasite Eve OST - Out Of Phase) A ghost of a smile flickers across the commander's lips at Krishga's hauling over and climbing the chair, nodding politely to the goblin as they shake hands. He doesn't seem much bothered by everyone else's disinterest in doing so, and once it is clear no-one else is going to introduce themselves he returns to stand behind the desk, hands clasped behind his back as he stands at ease. "I have been informed that a crew was coming down here with the express purpose of investigating the disappearance of Aqualantis. That suits me fine. We're grunts; we take positions and we hold positions but we do neither without a better idea of what we're walking into. So if you want to be the vanguard, I will absolutely not stand in your way. Not like we have a choice anyway." A glance at Konas. "So to answer your question, here's what we know for fact. Two months, three weeks, three days ago the submarine communications cable between us and Aqualantis was severed. At the time, this base was still bare-bones. We had the sub pens, supply and equipment storage, reactor, and barracks for the construction crews. I wasn't even on site. Most of the ESCO troops now stationed here were still on the Raft where I was overseeing their training before they were allowed to promote to full boots. Dive certifications, emergency procedures. You get the idea." He slides the coffee mug aside and starts shuffling through the papers until finally hauling out a topographical map and smoothing it out on the desk. He waves you forward to view it as he begins pointing out details. "This is us, XK-Masada. Over here is the Raft, and down here is where our sister station Ikaria should be. She vanished along with Aqualantis, which normally sits here." He slides his finger along the map where a hastily scribbled cartoon castle is drawn in permanent marker. "Radar, seismic sensors, all the equipment we have has told us absolutely nothing. The needles don't even quiver. One moment the submarine communications cable to AQ was bringing in standard chatter, the next moment it was dead silent. I've reviewed the data and had our audio and cryptographic specialists burning the midnight oil. Nothing."  "I sent orders down here to what security was actually present to go investigate in one of the cargo subs, and this is what they saw." He folds the map over and digs through the papers again, pulling out a stack of black and white photographs. They appear to show the ocean, empty, apart from deep jagged rents dug into the sea floor "This is what you see when you look at where Aqualantis should be. Not a single body, pipe, or errant bolt. It's just gone. Like something reached down and ate it. Same goes for Ikaria. Vanished." The man has remarkable self control but the annoyance is still visible in the muscles of his face. He sits back down in his chair and looks each of you in the eye before continuing. "So. The report was sent up to the Raft, and representatives from the various nations reviewed the findings. Then word came down: Stand fast. No additional patrols, no investigations. They are stepping in directly." The They he is referring to is obvious. The gods, in an unheard of show of unified action, had placed a seal over the vanishing points. And now the world was obliged to sit and hold its breath. What do you do? Shardix fucked around with this message at 19:42 on Apr 18, 2021 |
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May 15, 2020 01:45
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--------------------------------------------------------------------------- BLD +2 || COU +1 || GRA +2 || SEN -1 || WIS +0 STR •• | CNG •• | TUF •• | WPN •••• FOOD ••• | BOOZE •• | TRAP ••• | GEAR •• : Cruel Beast [] || Carpe Jugulum []--------------------------------------------------------------------------- "And They want us to be the forlorn hope that goes in and checks out the aftermath up close and personal. Alright, boss." I pick myself up off the floor and knee-walk over to him, very polite. If I stand up I'll loom, and military types hate it when I loom at them. Gives 'em the wrong kind of idea. I give Branwen the side-eye as I'm passing her, still in parade rest. Bran, is that you under all that? drat you look good, but 'Shira shine you, when did you get lookin' like you could be mom's old bodyguard? I'm kneeling, he's sitting, and I'm still just short of being able to look him in the eye. "Sir. Anastasia Iglanova. Accredited diplomatic representative from the izzi v'arükhov and all that, credentials should be on file with Aludel's XO, very please to meet'cha, I got a feeling like this is going to be one hell of a patrol run. Let's get to business." "First things first, we'll want a good look at your sub pens and what you've got in stores; sounds like you-all know as little about what to expect out there as we do, so we're gonna want to tool up good and make sure we've got fuel to get home again. Second, how are we getting through that seal? Do we just fuckin'...swim through it? Or Miz McAlister, Miz Tazz maybe can blow us a couple holes if we need to? Third, there anybody station-side needs to come with us, special orders, anything you want us on the lookout for? Fourth...sheez, you got anywhere a girl can get a sweater or a drysuit or somethin'? It's loving freezing in here." code:
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May 15, 2020 02:44
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Anastasia "I wish to be as forthcoming as possible, madam. I am not a religious man. However, I also do my utmost to not be a fool. When They say step, I step. My opposite number topside has informed me that the Eye-of-Night and the Ring Finger specifically want the operation moving forward with your group in the vanguard. He also informs me that at least some elements of the Solar pantheon are in agreement." He glances briefly at Branwen before resuming. "We will supply you as best we can. When our meeting is over, I'll arrange quarters for you in the civilian sector. You can check in with the armorers and get fitted for a drysuit there. As for how to breach the seal, I can thankfully say we have that problem solved. Without getting into the hard science, we can teleport you directly there. The problem is, I haven't the slightest idea what you should do once inside. There's nothing there. If AQ hasn't been utterly obliterated, it has been moved. Where? I cannot begin to guess. Another dimension, maybe." A sigh. "As for anyone going with you, I will continue to be honest. I can order all I like but nobody is going near those places. People are scared. The faithful here and above are whispering about the god damned end of the world. Maybe if some concrete steps towards a solution can be presented, but now? No. I'd get a shiv in my guts if I order anyone out to the Exclusion Zones."
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May 15, 2020 03:11
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------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ BLOOD: 2 || COURAGE: 1 || GRACE: 2 || SENSE: -1 || WISDOM: 0 ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ I find it very hard to believe that every god seemed to have intervened with that hunk of junk. If it took the Death Currents and so many of my people dying to make the city disappear, I’d have some questions for these gods. Like, why act now if you could’ve moved the city at any time? Certainly not questions the others want to hear. Fortunately, I had something more appropriate. “The teleporter’s still working, even though your reports say the city’s gone?” The Drylander, Durell, seems to be more open with their situation, and seeing the sigil on his neck gives some comfort, even if it’s small. Could be a Dolphin, or Octopus, or another Great Clan that’s left the Church. It may just be a War story. If time permits, maybe I’ll see if he’d be willing to tell it. Not now, not with the others around. Some things can only be told veteran to veteran.
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May 15, 2020 05:31
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“I want to get into the hard science.” Krishga pipes up as the topic of a working teleporter comes up, speaking without even thinking about it first. Her challenging shrug goes mostly unseen as everyone else has moved on and gathered around the table, reviewing what little information they have. Once again, the sound of the screeching sound of a metal chair being dragged across the metal floor can be heard, coming to a halt next to the table. After a moment, Krishga’s head appears, glancing over the table. The goblin tries to take in the map from her angle standing on the chair, but after a few seconds furrows her brow and shakes her head. Krishga waves her hand at Branwen as if trying to help someone park a car in reverse. “Hey, Branwen, little lift. No grabbing by the back of the neck like I’m a cat again, though, or we’re gonna have words.” Her tone of voice is somewhere between mocking and good-natured and, after a moment, Krishga clambers up Bawnen’s muscular arm and onto the table itself. Krishga snatches up one of the empty notepads stacked on the table along with a pen, while gazing at the map and assorted black-and-white photos. “Alright, so, we have next to no idea what we are heading into, only a vague outline of what we actually want to do when we get there, and no real plan for how and when to get out again.” She taps the pen against the notepad. “Well, I had some fun nights out on the town with that amount of planning, but maybe in this instance, it’s worth it to think ahead.” “Commander Durell, I need to know the maximum size the teleporter can accommodate. I’m thinking of repurposing one of the XK-Masada’s escape pods as a miniature sub, or something smaller if it’s necessary. We’d teleport in together with it, inside it - if we end up in the ocean, hey, great, if we end up in Aqualantis, we’ll make a lot of noise but no harm done. Might look a bit stupid stepping out of a sub that’s not underwater, but that’s a risk we’re just going to have to take.” Krishga scribbles furiously on the notepad. “I mean, everyone could fit inside the Maximus Mk III, but it’d get kind of cramped, and there'd be no space for additional supplies.” The goblin enthusiastically rips the now filled in page off the notepad and starts writing on the next one. “Next up, what do we actually want to do when we get there?” Krishga glances up at her companions, the unspoken knowledge between them that until now, nobody other than them seems to think that J.R. Warwick Froedricksson is any kind of threat or connected to what happened to Aqualantis in any way. “Find out what’s going on, what has happened to Aqualantis and its people, and if there's anything that actually looks like the end of the world, put a stop to that. Right?” She looks down on her notes, waits a moment, then deadpans the next word. “Easy.” “Now, how to get out again, well, that’s where you come in again, Commander.” Krishga points the pen at the hard-bitten military man, still looking down at her even though she now stands on his table. “Like I said earlier, I want everything you have and can get on that teleporter. I can’t promise anything, but maybe I can fix something up that’ll teleport us right back here, though I’m pretty sure it’d only work when we’re… actually there. Where we’re going.” A shrug. “Next, tell me what needs fixing or tuning to get everything technical at the XK-Masada in tip-top shape. When we have to get out, we may have to get out quick and definitely not according to some plan we can come up with now. Your radio equipment has to work flawlessly, in case we send out a distress signal. Those cargo subs need to be able to pick us up, even under, uh, conditions that are not ideal. Basically, we have to rely on you being ready to take action at a moments notice and be prepared for anything.” Like us being chased by giant mythical sea monsters commanded by Warwick or any entire underwater city explosively appearing again out of thin air, or, well, sea - something like that. Not that I say that out loud. Or that you can't really be prepared for literally anything, especially not if you're a skeleton crew in a too-hastily-built research outpost, but that doesn't exactly make for a good motivational speech. I wonder, now that I’m done, if I’ve been too demanding, just babbling away and ordering Commander Slickback around, but, naw. He said it himself, he’s just following orders - which is a really great and confidence-inspiring attitude for the commander of a paramilitary weaponized police force with accusations of unjustified use of violence to have - so who’s to say it shouldn’t be us to give some orders? Hey, I got some experience keeping a giant creaking bucket of bolts working, just ask all the Goblins in Zepplintropolis Guttlefink. Besides. If the Gods tell me to skip, I don’t plan to just skip. Well. I might still skip, but because I decided to. nil. fucked around with this message at 19:58 on Aug 13, 2022 |
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May 15, 2020 13:01
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Konas Durell leans back, arms crossed. "Presuming Aqualantis still exists, we don't know where it is. I've heard a lot of theories thrown around. Alternate dimensions. A plane shift. Some sort of magic rendering it out of phase with reality, whatever that means. It all sounds like bullshit to me. Whatever the truth, you'll need to figure it out." He unfolds his arms and reaches to the side of the desk, pulling open a drawer. He pulls out a reel of tape and lays it on the desk, his index finger idly resting on top of it. "This is audio recorded by our listening post during the period AQ vanished. There's a lot of noise so if there is anything of value, we haven't been able to pick it out. Maybe there's something we missed." Krishga "Our transport pad can handle roughly twenty cubic meters. Everything gets sent one at a time, though. Safety precautions. Otherwise things start arriving stuck inside other things." As you continue, Gabriel maintains a stonefaced expression. "I'll be blunt. While I have no idea of the exact requirements, I am ninety-nine percent certain we do not have the necessary materials to build a teleport pad, nor do we have anyone with the knowledge of how to do so. I've listened to the eggheads. It's a lot of babble about quantum tunneling and superposition and necessary reservoirs of, what they termed, 'strange matter'. As for the rest of it. I can assure you our equipment is in proper working order, and believe me. If you can somehow get there and back out, we'll be only too happy to evacuate you. Any information you might acquire is too valuable not too."
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May 17, 2020 03:00
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I’m side-eying the commander after what he said last - is he saying that he would not rescue us if he didn’t have his orders, if we didn’t have valuable information? Or am I being paranoid? He’s beating the ‘I just go where they tell me to’ drum pretty hard. I found that for a certain type of military man, that’s their way of voicing their displeasure with their current situation, or, to be more explicit, saying ‘screw you’. Still, might just all be in my head. It’s not like he’s making it easy to read what he’s thinking. “Ah, commander, I merely assumed that given the current situation, those... above…” Krishga mockingly points both fingers upwards, leaving it open who exactly in the hierarchy above Gabriel Durell she means. “...are asking you to do more with less, and it’s no idle boast when I tell you I have some experience with that.” She shrugs. “My offer still stands.” Krishga clasps her hands together, balls up several of the now-obsolete scribbled notes and starts writing onto a new page. “Okay, scratch the improvised sub idea. Moving on. I’d still want to see everything you have and can get on the teleporter. Sounds like it might not make a lick of sense even to me, not to mention the parts, but we’re hopefully heading into Aqualantis and, well, that’s the domain of a certain superscientist of some renown, so I want to keep my options open. We might just find the parts and brainpower we need.” Not that I have any intention of giving something like a working teleporter to Warwick, but no way will I let something like this slip through my fingers. And hey, if we get stuck under the sea at least I’ll have some reading material. The goblin taps the pen onto the top of her notepad, once again, lost in thought for a moment. “Twenty cubic meters. I can work with that. Commander, I want to construct a probe we are going to teleport in first. It’ll send out radio transmissions and visual signals - lots of blinking lights - and it’ll deconstruct after, say, 15 minutes. We’ll see whether we can spot it under the seal, hear its transmissions. If we do, we know where we’ll end up when we teleport in. If we don’t see it or hear anything at all…” Krishga looks around at her companions. “...well, we didn’t come here because it was the safe thing to do.” “Now!” Her notepad falls down onto the table, and the metal chair rattles as Krishga once again jumps down onto it. “Who wants to listen to that tape? Konas? Branwen? Oh, and commander?” She turns her head, and looks into those hard eyes buried in a hard face. “I’m not speaking for everyone here, but I’d also be happier if they were a bit more talkative about what’s going on. But, hey, I bet a military man like yourself, not the first time that happened, though probably not with orders coming from that high up the chain. But us, here? We can work together. Isn’t there some military saying about that? The man next to you and all that?”
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May 17, 2020 18:47
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--------------------------------------------------------------------------- BLD +2 || COU +1 || GRA +2 || SEN -1 || WIS +0 STR •• | CNG •• | TUF •• | WPN •••• FOOD ••• | BOOZE •• | TRAP ••• | GEAR •• : Cruel Beast [] || Carpe Jugulum []--------------------------------------------------------------------------- "Shiv in your guts? I can't imagine why." Bad joke, Ana. Real bad. Outwardly I keep my face neutral, but I can't help but be shook by how little they know...and how little support they say they can offer. One way in, no way out, no ship, no crew, no nothin'. Krishga's right of course, but I didn't think she'd be this right, this early. I'm feeling real glad for that goblin and her big brain right about now. All of a sudden it's friggin stifling in here. I stand up, make for the door. Barracks got high ceilings but I still have to stoop a little, to make sure I don't crack my head on a pipe or anything. "Gonna leave the skull work to these three, boss," I say. "If'n you don't mind, I think I'll take that advance look at your armorers now." I need to walk, and so does Duchess. She's picking up on my mood, and I don't want her getting antsy. Me, there's no helping, but I'll feel better once I've had a good look at all her tack, dropped in the hangar along with the Maximum when we came in. Maybe along the way I can get a few words in edgewise with the civilian staff; make sure Durell here's on the level when he tells us people'd rather shiv him than go out there. code:
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May 17, 2020 19:49
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------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ BLOOD: 2 || COURAGE: 1 || GRACE: 2 || SENSE: -1 || WISDOM: 0 ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ “Let’s hear it then.” It’s more than I thought we’d get, and it seems like they have more than they thought. Durell takes his finger off the tape and points his thumb to a hallway, rattling off some directions to some equipment. Good to know. As long as it doesn’t blow up in my face or start shocking me… Looks like setting the tape up to play was simple enough. A Drylander was there and after explaining what I was trying to do, seemed to let me be. “Just put on the headphones.” He said. They didn’t fit at all, but I could hear the currents with maybe some odd crackling. A tune breathes out my throat, something to hone my senses. pre:Tapping Keen Senses in the Elder Arts to pick out anything in the playback for clues. AnAnonymousIdiot fucked around with this message at 21:39 on May 17, 2020 |
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May 17, 2020 21:18
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--------------------------------------------------------------------------- BLD +2 || COU +1 || GRA -1 || SEN +0 || WIS +2 Blessings: Strength[ ] || Speed[ ] || Glory[ ] || Power[ ][ ] Gear: Armor[ ] || Fuel[ ][ ][ ] Hilda: Crack Shot[ ] || Quick As A Bullet [ ] --------------------------------------------------------------------------- "Radio won't work for the beacon." A few glances at Bran, probably thinking there's some kind of hidden knowledge behind those words. "Radio waves don't travel for poo poo in water. But sound does. Get the thing tapping out morse code, audibly, and the stations sonar should be able to pick it up, if it can be heard. You could rig up something to do that right Krishga?" And then Ana exits. Branwen hesitates a moment, before turning back to the group "I'll go with, see what might be useful and save a second trip." Catching up to Ana, Bran awkwardly says "Hey, uh, got a second to talk?"
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May 18, 2020 05:41
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--------------------------------------------------------------------------- BLD +2 || COU +1 || GRA +2 || SEN -1 || WIS +0 STR •• | CNG •• | TUF •• | WPN •••• FOOD ••• | BOOZE •• | TRAP ••• | GEAR •• : Cruel Beast [] || Carpe Jugulum []--------------------------------------------------------------------------- "Hey yeah. Whaddaya need?" Alumnus Post fucked around with this message at 13:14 on May 18, 2020 |
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May 18, 2020 13:06
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Krishga watches Commander Durell for any hint of taking her metaphorically outstretched hand, but the man simply maintains his steely visage. Undeterred, she instead attentively listens to what Branwen says and points the pen at her companion and her well-made point. “Acoustic signals and low frequency radio transmissions for the beacon, doable, doable. If it was a different situation, we could set off an underground explosion, Branwen, but in this case…and she’s gone.” Probably went off after Anastasia. I’ll see what’s happening with both of them later on, but first, there’s preparations to be made! “Commander, I’ll need a place to work on the beacon. It’d be best if it’s close to the teleporter, unless someone under you needs the workout of lugging a big hunk of metal, cables and antennas from one end of the base to the other. I would do it, but…” Krishga points both index fingers at herself and her size. “Or I could show you just a small taste of what the Maximus Mk III can do. Any questions?” The meeting concluded, the members of the Fellowship disperse, some in search of a quiet moment, some in search of each other, some in search of whatever advantage they could find before setting out into the great unknown. Krishga belongs to the latter group and joins Konas with the intention of listening to the lst recording received from Aqualantis. The goblin nods at her brave Triton companion, plugs in her headphones - briefly struggling with them as they have clearly been made with much smaller ears in mind - and scribbles on the notepad taken from Durell’s office, waiting for Konas to play the tape. On the page before her, a wild assortment of metal, cable and rivets takes shape. For the untrained eye, it would be hard to distinguish the device from the beacon it is supposed to be from a very haphazardly built torpedo or refrigerator. nil. fucked around with this message at 19:59 on Aug 13, 2022 |
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May 18, 2020 18:49
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--------------------------------------------------------------------------- BLD +2 || COU +1 || GRA -1 || SEN +0 || WIS +2 Blessings: Strength[ ] || Speed[ ] || Glory[ ] || Power[ ][ ] Gear: Armor[ ] || Fuel[ ][ ][ ] Hilda: Crack Shot[ ] || Quick As A Bullet [ ] --------------------------------------------------------------------------- Not even one complete sentence and Bran hesitates, realizing she wasn't even sure what she wanted to say. After a pause she finally gets out "I just, it's been awhile and I wanted to know... How haveve ya been?"
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May 19, 2020 10:41
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Krishga Durell's features soften somewhat. "A probe is entirely reasonable. I'll inform the quartermaster to set you up." Anastasia As you step out and follow the posted signs towards the civilian areas, you eventually enter a much warmer and certainly more inviting area of the base. No harsh sodium lights, and no red emergency lamps, either. Instead you are bathed in the reassuring light of good old reliable neon. The ceilings here are thankfully vaulted somewhat, and you can stand upright comfortably. As you look around, the largest neon sign directly head informs you that this is the Harpy Nest. Calling it a square is being over-generous, but it does seem to be a sort of central hub with people coming and going on whatever business. Civilian living quarters down one main hall, a cafeteria down the opposite corridor, and a few small businesses scattered here and there. In the center of the area is a small kiosk with a bored looking young lady leaning on the shop counter, trying hard not to fall asleep. Seems to be a sort of tiny bodega. Cigarettes, liquor, condoms, magazines, and cheap paperbacks. You know, the essentials. Especially notable is a fat gray bakelite rotary phone with a sign standing next to it; Landline - $5 per minute. A novel thing to see - even in this modern age, many places are only just getting electricity set up, let alone telephone lines. Neither Blutfeuch nor the Dominion had either. Blutfeuch being too poor, and the Dominion being too proud. As you ask around, you get the impression that while Commander Durell is respected as a competent man doing as best he can given the circumstances, most people share the same sentiments as his troops: they are scared. Scared enough to something rash if their hand is forced. There is an undercurrent of fear that direct action regarding Aqualantis might cause this place to up and vanish as well. Durell might have been exaggerating when he suggested he might get stabbed, but it's obvious his worries are not wholly unfounded. Attempts to get more than that from people prove fruitless. You're a stranger here, and nobody seems eager to lay bare their heart for you. Konas The tech you got directed to is thankfully not feeling very chatty and gets to work. "I'll try and clean up the audio as best I can. Our equipment can be real finicky sometimes. It'll miss an underwater volcanic eruption but picks up someone sneezing in a submarine two miles the other direction." Olan picks up a spare headset and you both listen carefully as it runs. Everything seems utterly mundane the first time, but as you run it back again something pricks at your mind. Extremely faint, and at a very very high frequency. Definitely outside the range most Drylanders can perceive. It seems like some sort of song. What a pain that there isn't a Tidecaller here to assist you. Still, if nothing else, now that you know something is there you can probably help the technician isolate and boost the song. Krishga "My men need something to do anyway. I'll see that they haul in the necessary materials. While the teleportation pad itself isn't that large, the staging area its in is one of the larger areas on base. You'll have adequate room to work." The rest of your companions have moved off by now, and you soon follow suit, catching up to Konas.
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May 19, 2020 19:16
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------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ BLOOD: 2 || COURAGE: 1 || GRACE: 2 || SENSE: -1 || WISDOM: 0 ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ I look to Olan, and nothing in her eyes show that she hears it, though one look my way spells out what I found. The Drylanders present didn't seem to pick up on it. “What is it?” I hear. Not sure if the personnel could understand her. “I don’t know, but I don’t like it.” She raises an eyebrow about that. Olan clearly wants to know more, but I don't want to say it now, not until I'm sure. I just shake my head, which seems to be enough for her. I shouldn’t jump to conclusions on this, but the idea that a song in the frequency means somebody took matters into their own hands. My guess is someone from one of the recanted Great Clans may have sung this, but that doesn’t narrow it down by any means. I hope I’m wrong. I try to rewind the recording to the song’s beginning. The Drylanders there seemed confused with why. “There’s something in this recording before the city vanished. Faint, but there. Is there a way to change the frequency from this part?” If we’re lucky, there should be. AnAnonymousIdiot fucked around with this message at 01:29 on May 20, 2020 |
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May 20, 2020 01:03
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--------------------------------------------------------------------------- BLD +2 || COU +1 || GRA +2 || SEN -1 || WIS +0 STR •• | CNG •• | TUF •• | WPN •••• FOOD ••• | BOOZE •• | TRAP ••• | GEAR •• : Cruel Beast [] || Carpe Jugulum []---------------------------------------------------------------------------  "I've been....around. Getting in touch with my family, you know?" Okay no, Ana, she don't deserve that. Be nice, girl. I stop, take a moment to really look her over. Gods, look at her. Fresh off the goddam showroom floor. The Choir's gonna have to up their game if they still wanna compete with a mega-babe like her - are her arms seriously made out of actual steel? "What about you, huh?" The hell'd you get into to end up like that? I poke my nose into the canteen: all awful. The fried bird looks and smells like it came out of a crocodile's rear end, but they make the coffee just how I like it: a drop of axle grease in every cup. I get me and Bran both a mug, and find us a place to sit and jaw before I realize... "Listen. L-  --" I look at the other mug on the table and can't help but crack up at the sheer loving glorious absurdity of this whole insane situation. Of seeing her like this, the kid I grew up chasing swamp rats with. "gently caress, it's good to see you! Do you still...uh, eat, raisin Bran?" I ask her, still half-laughing. "Or what?"
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May 20, 2020 02:51
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--------------------------------------------------------------------------- BLD +2 || COU +1 || GRA -1 || SEN +0 || WIS +2 Blessings: Strength[ ] || Speed[ ] || Glory[ ] || Power[ ][ ] Gear: Armor[ ] || Fuel[ ][ ][ ] Hilda: Crack Shot[ ] || Quick As A Bullet [ ] --------------------------------------------------------------------------- It's the least Bran deserved, the quip. Hell, Bran gave Serenity worse when they had met under the damned ocean... Odd parallels, that. Bran mulls the look and question over, probably too long from how Ana turns away. "Nah it's not, secret it's just..." Bran lets the rest of the 'breath' out, shaking her head before pushing forward. "It's fuckin' dumb, honestly. She was looking for someone to see how the whole, formavit thing worked and I just so happened to have gotten my dumb rear end lodged into a ship's hull perched above an open vent at the bottom of the drat sea about then. Threw myself to the top of the drat list of candidates, apparently." Bran gets a pained look at the question "Or what. Didn't get anything from hitting a diner on the Raft after I got dredged up. Same for the dive bar afterwards," and she perks up here "'til I got to the stupidly high proof stuff. Think I got a party trick to beat that flower thing Serenity does."
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May 20, 2020 09:06
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Konas The tech, Aric, snaps his fingers at his assistant and the two of them busy themselves over the consoles. They run the audio through some strange machinery and fiddle with various knobs and buttons, muttering amongst themselves. Merfolk haven't yet found a need for oscilloscopes or any of the other instruments here, and it's kind of sad to see how truly deaf Drylanders are compared to you. After a few minutes they run the audio again. It's still faint and unfamiliar, but the Aric's eyes narrow as he concentrates on the spectrogram display. He scratches his chin through his beard for a moment, deep in thought. "Hey, Owen. Pull up that anomaly from area LEM-7. The one we had to set aside." As his assistant stands and moves into an adjacent room, Aric turns his chair to face you and leans back. "The same time AQ vanished, a remote sensor picked up an anomalous signal. I gave it a once over but it read as a biological. Given everything else that was happening, I wrote it off as a weird whale song and forgot about it." Owen returns with a reel-to-reel and they two of them go about running another analysis. Some fifteen minutes later, Aric hits a key and a godawful noise starts up from a piece of machinery in the corner. Slowly a sheef of paper rises from the top of it and after a few irritating moments the terrible noise thankfully ceases. Aric tears off the papers, glances over it and nods. "Yep. Resonating frequencies." He meets your eyes and grins. "The timestamp from the AQ audio matches up with the LEM-7 audio. Whatever happened to Aqualantis, something in this remote area responded." Shardix fucked around with this message at 14:05 on May 20, 2020 |
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May 20, 2020 13:46
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Krishga lounges on her chair, too large for her by far, periodically glancing up from her notepad at the XK-Masada technicians busying themselves with the admittedly surprisingly adequate radio equipment. Konas and Olan, the Triton’s shadow in more ways than one, seem to be able to hear something in the recording, something that as of yet escapes the Goblin’s ears. With some interest, Krishga watches Aric and Owen get to work, their expertise evident. There is something else, too, in the way the two practically throw themselves at the task as if happy to finally be able to do something they know how to, something they trained for, something to dispel the anxiety Krishga now realizes she has seen almost everywhere on the XK Masada. She decides to simply remain quiet and let them work, taking some notes on the radio equipment for the probe and potential upgrades of the Maximus Mk. III. When suddenly, after what seems like just a moment, the goddamn noise starts up, Krishga almost flings her pen and notepad across the room as she half tries to pull her headphones off and half tries to hold on to what is in her hands. “Goddamn!” She shakes her head, takes a moment to calm herself and listens to what the technicians have to say, because it is plain from the fire in their eyes that they have found something remarkable. “Well!” She clasps her hands together and jumps up, standing on her chair. “Now we are getting somewhere! Excellent work everyone, who ever said you can’t get anywhere with a little Triton knowledge and some technicians who know their stuff, huh? Alright, I’m just going to ask the obvious questions. Where is LEM-7? Is it inside the seals or… outside the seals?” Once again, the goblin almost paces up and down what little space she has atop of the chair, notepad in one hand, the other pointing at the engineers. “Aric, Ownen. Think you can check whether that anomalous signal is still coming from LEM-7 right now? Also, if you have any other records check if you can find that signal again and we’ll find out if whatever that is moved in the past, and where.” She shrugs. “Like you said, it sounds biological, so it could be moving.” I...maybe I shouldn’t have said that. Not sure if these two are going to be happy once they think a little bit about it and realize just what that means - a giant underwater creature that has something to do with what happened to Aqualantis. And that is still out there, and we’re just in this floating metal box. It sc- concerns me a little. Best to keep them busy, then, that always helps me keep my mind off things. Krishga jumps down from her chair and holds out her hand to Aric, who, after a confused few moments, helps her up to where the radio equipment is. “Once again, well done. You want us to mention you to Commander Durell? Oh, and, tell me all about the setup you have here. I’ve built something like this myself, but not specialized for operating underwater, so I’d like to hear about what you found works. Are you using a Grimbdag-Leston receiver or…” Krishga briefly glances at Konas, one eyebrow raised. She has her suspicions just what the creature that made that noise made, but if someone would know for certain whether it is the undersea myth some believed did not exist now commanded by Warwick, it would be Konas. And right now, that is not a topic she wants to discuss openly, not in front of people outside of their band.
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May 20, 2020 19:20
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Krishga The two exchange a look. "LEM-7 should be outside the seal. Ikaria is...was the closest outpost. As far as I know there's nothing there. Regardless, Commander Maki declared it off limits; It used to be Abyss Wyrm territory." From Aric's tone, the reason it was declared off limits is self-evident. "I'll run a scan, but we haven't had any signals from that area since." Some time goes by, and Aric shrugs his shoulders. "Nothing. Sorry." Record a new Bond with Aric on your sheet, describing the connection you two now hold. A Bond is a single sentence describing how you feel about them or what you two have done together. Stats: Cryptanalysis. You can damage that stat at any time to have them do a single thing that could help you by analyzing information systems in order to study the hidden aspects of that system. --- Bestiary of Creatures Unusual: Abyss Wyrm  So named not due to any demonic associations, but from the fact that they live in the far reaches of the ocean where light never shines. While beastly in appearance, they are wickedly intelligent beings with their own society and culture, albeit one surface dwellers would find alien and frightening. Aesthetes par excellence and collectors of rare and valuable works of art. Jewels and statuary, mostly, as paintings and books cannot survive below the waves. Darker tales tell that they collect people as well, warping them with occult rituals to survive the depths. Men and women of rare beauty or particularly talented voices. It is said those taken are treated quite well, but a slave is a slave regardless, and a world like that is no place for someone born to the light. On very rare occasions, an Abyss Wyrm might contact surfacers, offering their skills in return for things. Never something as crass as money. A brand new song performed for them alone, maybe. A precious memory. Your faith in the gods. In short, they are to be respected and kept at a polite distance. But if you are in dire need, and willing to sacrifice, the sea serpents may have just what you require.
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May 21, 2020 01:07
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Abyss Wyrms are real?! I heard about them before, sure, even read up on them when I prepared for this search for Aqualantis - but they’re real? I thought they’re probably wild tales, you know how sailors and submariners can get, but that would have been too easy, apparently. There’s no reason for me to be… concerned, though, they’re only kind of like giant underwater snakes! They have hands. Creepy claw hands, sure, but snakes don’t have hands. So they’re technically not giant snakes, even though they’re long and squirming and have black, dead, hungry eyes and… Krishga realizes she has sat down in her chair, her eyes closed and pinching the bridge of her nose. She sits there for a few moments as if meditating, drawing slow, deliberate breaths and finally reaching some sort of inner agreement with herself. She jumps up again onto her feat, once again pointing her pen at the others in the room, as determined as before. “Great! Now we are getting somewhere. This is the first real clue to what happened to Aqualantis and to everyone on Ikaria, and it’s up to us to investigate.” Krishga nods at Konas, even his companion Olan, sure she will see the same determination in their eyes that she wants to show in hers. “That’s what we came here for. And, hey, we don’t even need to teleport into the seals with no concrete plan on how to get back - yet.” “Aric, you and Owen check if you have any recordings on Abyss Wyrms, cross-check it with that signal from LEM-7 and see if it’s the same thing. Unless - Konas, Olan - you can already confirm what we just heard?” Krishga half hopes that they will say that it is not an Abyss Wyrm, but then it’d be something else, something unknown. “We’ll need transportation, maybe one of the cargo subs, we’ll need to tell Anastasia and Branwen… uh, does anyone have any priceless art lying around? I have the Maximus, I suppose, but I am not giving her up.” Especially not if we have to tussle with something like Abyss Wyrms. It just had to be snakes. Well, snake-like things. But, it will be fine. I have the Maximus Mk III, and Konas, he’ll know all about them, and Anastasia and Branwen who can clean any slithering creature’s clock if it comes to that, so it’ll be fine.
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May 21, 2020 14:29
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------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ BLOOD: 2 || COURAGE: 1 || GRACE: 2 || SENSE: -1 || WISDOM: 0 ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ I pull the headphones off with a curse the moment that noise reaches my ears. Besides an echo that won’t go away, it just left me with a headache, in more ways than one. I forgot about the Abyss Wyrms. Here I thought this would turn into a war between Clans. Though now it seems a new complication has come up depending on how they respond. Every Triton knows better than to tangle with a Wyrm alone. Groups matter, especially if things get violent. And the hesitation from the two personnel just reinforces that we’d be on our own going to that location. But this find seems too rare to be a coincidence. Either someone trespassed on their ‘domain,’ or a ‘Wyrm’ did something that caused the city’s vanishing. “I want you to stay with the others Olan.” I tell her. Her eyebrows raise at this. "I’ll need someone to relay what I find.” ”Others can suffice.” "Just in case it-" Krishga posted:“...Konas, Olan - you can already confirm what we just heard?” The reason had to be put aside for now... To be honest, it didn’t sound like anything I know, but it sounded like a Song. How that got mangled into that chittering screech is beyond me, but I won’t question this serendipity. “I can’t say I know for certain, but something had been there, and it’s too much of a coincidence to say an Abyss Wyrm made your city vanish.” “It is not.” I hear Olan speak up. That made me look, Nothing on her face suggests a lie. That got the Drylanders to sit a little straighter. Looks like we'll get through this without butting heads with Command. ************************ AnAnonymousIdiot fucked around with this message at 16:40 on May 22, 2020 |
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May 22, 2020 00:15
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--------------------------------------------------------------------------- BLD +2 || COU +1 || GRA +2 || SEN -1 || WIS +0 STR •• | CNG •• | TUF •• | WPN •••• FOOD ••• | BOOZE •• | TRAP ••• | GEAR •• : Cruel Beast [] || Carpe Jugulum []--------------------------------------------------------------------------- "Oh? I ain't thought about that in years, Bran - remember, she'd do it with the flowers we'd bring her sometimes?" Now's not the time to get hammered, but "You'll have to show me later. Now, uh, if you're not gonna drink that, I'll just...(sorry!)" I nip her mug over and neck it back. Waste not, want not; and if we're all about to go on a one-way trip into the crushing blackness of the ocean deeps I am not about to go out without my coffee. "Ahh. Come on: I feel a lot better now. We need to get a good look at what's in stores before we head out. You been Down Here before, right? Maybe you got an idea what we need to take with us..." Alumnus Post fucked around with this message at 00:43 on May 25, 2020 |
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May 22, 2020 03:06
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Well, that’s the most I have heard Olan talk since I met her. She seems to stick close to Konas and I am not entirely sure she wants to get any of us non-Tritons better. But that’s just my first impression, and those are not always right. “Konas, let’s walk and find the others before we do anything else, huh?” Krishga jumps down from her chair and salutes Aric and Owen with her wrench, going ahead into the twisting metal halls of the XK Masada, confident that Konas and Olan will easily catch up to her. “You want to find something to eat and drink first?” She glances up at Konas and Olan, wondering whether any of the meals on offer in a place such as the XK Masada would agree with them. “I think it might be worth it to give Anastasia and Branwen a bit more time, I gather they maybe have some things to figure out.” I thought I was in the lead with the Maximus Mk III, but those two might have me beat when it comes to the baggage we brought along. Again, just my impression. “It’d give us a moment to chat. I suppose it must be sort of strange to be here, in this place, among all these people. You used to be enemies, now you’re supposed to be working together, and something threatens everything, but, your home first.” Krishga cocks her head. “I say ‘something’, but we know I mean ‘someone’.” She stops, looks around as if trying to smell the kitchen through all the diesel, sweat and burnt electronics suffusing the air in the XK Masada. “I know your first instinct was to go ahead alone. I even bet that’s how Tritons usually have to do things. But we’re here now, and we’ll tackle whatever it is, together. What d’ya say?” nil. fucked around with this message at 17:34 on May 22, 2020 |
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May 22, 2020 15:42
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------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ BLOOD: 2 || COURAGE: 1 || GRACE: 2 || SENSE: -1 || WISDOM: 0 ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ I look to the mug of coffee, then back to Krishga. “Fine.” I’m not gonna argue with her. Looks like we’ll all be visiting the ‘Wyrm’ site. Not sure if we’d have to insist on Durell or his commander to let us investigate LEM-7. The Drylander seemed to expect us to take the teleporter to rescue any survivors. That’ll be something that needs to be done, but not without preparation. Another look at the mug, and I take a sip, and regret it. More bitter than paakai without any of the sweetness. And it burned my tongue. Not sure why Drylanders take to this black drink. “Think Durell might oppose us all going?” May as well get this question out.
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May 23, 2020 20:43
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Looks like Konas is not feeling talkative, or it's simply that he's not enthusiastic about the rest of us coming along. He doesn't need to say anything for me to understand that's what he's thinking. Or maybe he's afraid we'll be in more danger, what with him being the Triton champion, master of the realms beneath the waves and us... not. But hey, no way am I sitting this one out, and I'm sure the same goes for Anastasia and Branwen. Well, he hasn't seen the Maximus Mk III in action yet! Krishga waves her hand dismissively at the mention of Commander Durell perhaps opposing their plan. "Oh, we'll cross that bridge when we get there. He said it himself, he's been ordered to help us in any way he can. Besides, this is the best lead we have yet for fiding out what happened to Aqualantis, Ikaria, and all the people that also vanished." She puts her hands behind her back and stretches. "He'll come around. And if he doesn't, we will figure something out." She glances up at Konas' distorted face, holding his cup of coffee as if he just accidentally picked something disgusting off the side of the road. "Not a coffee fan? Don't judge it too harshly, this is the military-grade sludge they make to give all the people locked up in this tin can under the sea something else to complain about. Keeps their minds off..." Krishga holds out her arms, indicating everything around her. "...all the other things. Speaking of which! Do you have any tips for fighting underwater? The Maximus boasts superior strength, speed and agility, of course, but she's not optimized for combat under the sea yet. You must have some hard-won knowledge, right?" I have not given up on getting Konas to talk. Just need to find the right thing he can't just help but chatter about, almost everyone has one.
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May 23, 2020 21:11
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------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ BLOOD: 2 || COURAGE: 1 || GRACE: 2 || SENSE: -1 || WISDOM: 0 ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ I can only think of one thing. “You mind the currents. Don’t know how you fight with your own strengths, but that’s what every smallfry is taught growing up.” For a moment I’m reminded of childhood, surrounded by other fries. A Pteroth mer gathered us to swim in formation. Most of us knew how to swim already, but he wanted to be sure we wouldn’t get in everyone’s way when we travel. First time in formation, the fry in front of me kept reeling me out, and I had to fight the current to stay together. “Either you know where the water ebbs and you work with it, or you fight it along with your opponent. And allies.” The mug still feels hot to the touch, and I don’t wanna put that in my mouth until it’s colder. Besides, my gills still don’t feel relaxed from the last sip. Olan joins us, sees the mug and looks at me with questioning eyes. ”A Drylander drink. I’d offer you the mug, but wait till it cools down.” She seems to accept that, and takes a seat. AnAnonymousIdiot fucked around with this message at 00:42 on May 24, 2020 |
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May 23, 2020 22:44
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Everyone The lot of you sit around a table near the canteen, though it's little more than particle board bolted to a old oil drum. Krishga, Konas and Olan finally caught up with Anastasia and Branwen. Chuckles is napping nearby, and where Hilda has vanished to, who can say? She'll be around when needed, no doubt. You all sip your drinks quietly as the reality of your situation sinks in properly. Being directed hither and yon, catching up with family or investigating clues has all proved rather distracting. Now that you have a chance to just sit things are finally able to settle. The tritons and ascended beings are doing just fine, but the rest of you drylanders still need to adjust to the pressure - it's not the deep sea but it's still uncomfortable. Regardless of that, you'll all need to adjust to the ever-present hum of machinery at work in the bowels of this place. A woman stops with a pot of what passes for coffee. "Ya wan' a refill?" she mumbles. Before anyone can say yes or no she tops them off, unconcerned at the coffee she ends up slopping onto the table. She wanders off as quickly as she came, her body language suggesting a deep grudge against existence. "You people are drinking that? Brave souls." A voice pipes up from the opposite side of the table from where the woman just stood. A young, sandy haired man in well worn homespun looks you all over in curiosity. One thing you've noticed is that for the most part nobody here pays you much mind. You get curious looks now and again from bystanders but it seems your motley crew warrants little curiosity. Whether due to Aqualantis' cosmopolitan tendencies or simply shell shocked survivors too busy with their own troubles, you can't really say. This fellow is the first to actually appear interested in the newcomers. He drags a chair out uninvited and sits down, elbows on the table, chin resting on his steepled hands. Cheeky bastard. "Lahire, pleased to meet you all. It's my job to know people and I don't know any of you. What brings you to this little corner of nowhere?"  What do you do?
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May 24, 2020 03:46
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------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ BLOOD: 2 || COURAGE: 1 || GRACE: 2 || SENSE: -1 || WISDOM: 0 ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ The coffee got cold enough to drink, but my mouth and gills still didn’t recover from that first sip. Didn’t stop Olan from trying it, and making a face at the taste. I think she’s trying to understand why this was a popular Drylander drink. She certainly didn’t appreciate the refill one of the personnel gave. More useless hot coffee. But this gave me enough time to explain to the others what we found on the tape, the ‘frequency,’ its connection to LEM-7, and its status as off-limits. I watch their reactions to see where they lie on this. Or at least it would when this other Drylander joined in our discussion. Odds are she’s supposed to be ESCO like everyone else at this base. Unless they harbor refugees from Aqualantis. Not sure why she'd be interested unless she's trying to recruit herself. Enough reason to pay good attention to this Lahire. Olan follows suit, thankful to have something else to focus on. “Konas.” pre:Konas (AnonymousIdiot)Today at 10:05 PM /r 2d6-1 #Look Lahire Closely Xom (dicebot) BOT Today at 10:05 PM @Konas (AnonymousIdiot): 2d6-1 Look Lahire Closely = (3+3)-1 = 5 Konas (AnonymousIdiot)Today at 10:05 PM welp pre:Tell me about Lahire. How can he hurt me? How can he help me? pre:Konas (AnonymousIdiot)Today at 11:00 AM /r 1d6 #Hope Krishga Xom (dicebot) BOT Today at 11:00 AM @Konas (AnonymousIdiot): 1d6 Hope Krishga = (3) = 3 AnAnonymousIdiot fucked around with this message at 18:33 on May 24, 2020 |
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May 24, 2020 05:13
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Mind the currents, mind the currents, hm, hmmm. That makes sense. The Maximus Mk III would need some sort of sensor to read external motion, maybe something flexible. Like holding a blade of grass into the wind. The point is, the Mk III does not have any of that, yet. Oh, I just know I’ll be thinking about that for the next few hours! For now, the fact that the Maximus Mk III is extremely strong, fast and powerful will have to suffice. After all, it’s not like submarines have to pay as much attention to the currents as fish do. Still, something to think about. “Thanks, Konas. Maybe once we’re in the water, you can show me some basic forms and I’ll try to repeat them in the Maximus.” Krishga looks at Olan taking the cup of coffee, eyeing it with deep suspicion, but still not utterly rejecting it. “Coffee being hot is one of the main points of coffee, though. Do you… have any hot food or drinks in Triton cuisine? Maybe not, no open fire, of course. There’s lots of room-temperature beverages you could try, too. Just don’t ask me to make you some, alright?” Hey, I did not think they’d have any service personnel for filling coffee cups in a place like this, honestly. Maybe it goes with the whole theme, though - the coffee being terrible is only one part, the other is that it’s served by someone with a disdain for you, themselves and the general situation all around them. And now who is this? Lahire? Curious. Of course, it’s also curious everyone else seems to be ignoring us. I don’t mean that in any vain sense, that I’m surprised nobody is dazzled by our impressiveness but that I thought everyone here in the XK Masada was nervous and had no idea what’s going on. You would think a group of colorful strangers arriving would send everyone speculating and staring, but, not so. Lahire here seems a little too calm to be desperate for information, but I’m also pretty sure he’s not trying to hit on one of us. No, no, this is no simple social chat. “Hello, Krishga Tazz, pleased to meet you as well.” After some climbing and stretching, Krishga manages to shake Lahire’s hand with a firmness that would be surprising given her small frame. “We’re here to help out at the XK Masada, you know. I myself am pretty handy with a wrench and know my way around all sorts of machinery!” All technically true. I don't know why yet, but my first instinct is to not put all our tables with Lahire yet, if only so that we have something to trade, information for information. Again, just my impression. “This is the first time we really got to sit down since we arrived, but, I’m sure you already know that. Can you give us the rundown on the XK Masada? I’m sure you know all sorts of things it’d take us weeks to learn.” Krishga folds her hands together and looks up at Lahire without any apparent guile. “You said.. It’s your job to know everyone. How does that work?” quote:@Krishga Tazz (nil): 2d6+2 Speak Softly with Lahire = (1+3)+2 = 6 nil. fucked around with this message at 18:37 on May 24, 2020 |
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May 24, 2020 08:56
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--------------------------------------------------------------------------- BLD +2 || COU +1 || GRA +2 || SEN -1 || WIS +0 STR •• | CNG •⚬ | TUF •• | WPN •••• FOOD ••• | BOOZE •• | TRAP ••• | GEAR •• : Cruel Beast [] || Carpe Jugulum []--------------------------------------------------------------------------- Well well well now. Who's this cheeky boy? "--Krishga, hon, it's called diplomacy." I set my mug down with a clunk and give the newcomer a toothsome grin. "Depending on who you ask, anyway." "We're all ahem diplomats of...one stripe'r another. Mer Keaweth there is a Lunar envoy, Miz Tazz is here representin' the Zeppelintropoleis up topside, the estimable Lady Branwen is here on behalf of the Bombardan Church, and me -- call me Anna, by the way -- I'm a delegate from the izzi v'arükhov's chamber of commerce." "We're all here to figure out where the hell our best trading partner went, and how the hell we can get it back again." It's all true, of course, but not the whole truth, not by any stench. Let's see what he does with it. pre:Burning one use of cunning as can be to ask: Is something hidden or out of place (with respect to Lahire's interest in us)? If so, what looks suspicious?
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May 24, 2020 17:10
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Anastasia Lahire is an elven word. The closest translation to human tongue would be, "something that doesn't exist". It's the equivalent of a human introducing themselves as John Doe.
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May 24, 2020 17:59
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--------------------------------------------------------------------------- BLD +2 || COU +1 || GRA +2 || SEN -1 || WIS +0 STR •• | CNG •⚬ | TUF •• | WPN •••• FOOD ••• | BOOZE •• | TRAP ••• | GEAR •• : Cruel Beast [] || Carpe Jugulum []--------------------------------------------------------------------------- I give Bran a swift kick in the shin, under the table where Captain Nemo here can't see it. Subtext: heads up.
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May 24, 2020 18:09
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Everyone https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=em2cpHTERLw (Hyper Iria OST - Mission Complete) Lahire smiles and nods as introductions are made. He does not offer to shake hands, but his manner is warm and genial enough. How much of it is genuine and how much is a put on, though, is difficult to gauge. "Diplomats, you say? Well. Words have never been more than ambulatory meat making meat sounds at other meat. So in the sense that all language is arbitrary, I suppose you are." Glancing over towards Krishga, he continues on another tack. "How it works is I know the who, what, why, where, and whens. On a rare occasion I am even driven to find out, how." He leans back and waves a hand dismissively. "Ultimately that's all just a fancy way of saying I keep my ear to ground. Since you're new, I'll waive my fee." He cranes around in his chair and points off down a corridor. "Down there is the Noblesse Oblige. Owned by a small family of Shar* gunsmiths. There's a shrine to the solar deities adjoining it if any of you are the religious sorts. If you continue further on you'll hit the ESCO quartermaster's office. If you need gear for operating outside of the base you'll want to hit him up. Wetsuits, drysuits, rebreathers, you get the idea." He continues, giving you a brief but useful rundown of how to navigate the place. The Harpy Nest you're in now is sort of a general purpose thoroughfare. The poo poo coffee and everyday supplies you can get here being mainly intended for people to avail themselves of as they pass through to their work stations or on their way back to quarters. It's also why there's free refills on the terrible coffee: anyone can swing by for a pick-me-up but nobody likes it enough for maintaining inventory to be even a remote concern. If you'd like a drink that's intended to be palatable, he suggests heading below to the maintenance level and patronizing the Dead Echo. It is absolutely a dive bar but you can barely taste the battery acid in the drinks. *Imperial Shar was a human empire in the north. It collapsed in the last war against the Elven Dominion. Krishga As Lahire chats with you and your companions you get the impression that while he's playing things straight right now, he has that air about him of a fast talking con man. You'd be wise to mind your words and his when dealing with him. Any attempts you make to politely inquire about Lahire or his doings are casually swept aside. He isn't rude about it, but the most you get from him is complete non-answers. Konas If what Lahire says is true, his greatest use and danger is that he knows most everyone down here, and probably they owe him favors. You get the impression that he and you are likely cut from the same cloth - he just uses his mouth more than his muscles. Though you might have to reconsider that as a knife embeds itself in the table before you, Lahire's hand resting on the pommel. His friendly demeanor has utterly vanished. "Something on my face, friend? There's being a polite and attentive host, and then there's this hairy eyeball you're giving me. Can't say I care much for it." Everyone What do you do? Shardix fucked around with this message at 19:49 on Apr 18, 2021 |
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May 27, 2020 02:38
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