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In Progress Torment on the Shards, Part 36 - Planescape-inspired CYOA

Gauldur's Bait

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Messages
247
Experimenting sounds tempting, but we might need the stuff "unspoiled" later, and also find out what they are before we are caught (or similar), in case they get confiscated, so C).
 
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The session I just had reminded me that I am actually retarded and fucked up my own rules.

Namers only get access to the first faction belief move, not the first two. So that means you don't have the *instantly travel to a previously visited location move. Sorry everyone. Adapting the rules to the CYOA format took me a while, and I guess I must have overlooked all that...character sheet has been adjusted.
 
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So it looks like we are going to have to roll the die of fate to decide between going to Knows and getting a job. Odd means the former, even the latter.

...the Die of Fate
Result: 4; You try to find a job!

Part 11 – Choice Of Patron

The inn is not busy this early in the morning. You are surprised that there are any patrons on the first floor at all. You go straight for the bowl of stew Boxes has put on your usual table, trying to avoid eye contact with him. As you eat, you overhear a conversation that makes you want to spit your food out.

“Did you hear about Lord-Inquisitor Schism strutting about the ward five days ago?” a buzzer with a cut stump of a proboscis says to his drinking companion.

“Oh yes,” a particularly hairy manus replies, “what a decadent prick. Has one of them...what are they called...dead servants with him or something? You know, the type the deaders fancy. Oh, and he's one of us yet he dresses like a herald. Bah...”

“I heard that there was some big fuss because he was real unprofessional with some of the people he was investigating. Treated them like they were his guests, or the like. You know – tried to exercise good manners, chat them up, arrested one after inviting her for dinner, even. I think he is supposed to be a descendant of some Seneschal, which explains a lot. Born into wealth, all pomp, no brains.”

“Say,” the manus says conspiratorially, “you think he was the one that grabbed that whore that got executed on the square?”

“Why not? All that filth used to be contained in wards like the Termitarium or the Facade Ghetto, but now they are getting into our wards, too. That old dock has got to collapse. This is a place for simple working folk, not a bunch of sinful criminals. Not only do they cause problems, but they are bringing the big-wigs here! Fuck, you can't spit in this ward without hitting some heretic or Lord-Inquisitor. They are moving into our homes, eating at our inns...”

You finish your food and leave before you have to stomach another word.

---

There are quite a few market squares in the Yards. Close proximity to wholesalers and hard-earned jingle of workers have made them rather profitable. Criers frequently come here with important news and announcements of new edicts, as is common in public squares.

At the very center of the square is the headsman's block, two pyres, and a trio of gallows. On which one of them did Seamstress die? You'd only need to ask around to find out – executions draw crowds, and even now some gather here only to anticipate the next one.

You arrive just in time to spot an older manus peddler in a discreet part of the square convince some clueless worker to follow him into a warehouse, promising “a wide selection of goods at below-market prices.” Seconds later, the manus emerges from the building with surprising haste and shuts the door behind him, the stranger nowhere to be seen. The patrons of the market have been distracted from the killing that happened beyond the busywork and vanity of trade by the promise of another, much more public killing. How very decadent.

You manage to pick up a few news and rumors. The first voidships are expected to arrive from the Shard of Curious Depths tomorrow. A notorious serial killer Plays-With-Bodies strikes again, having been linked to several murders in the Voidship Yards. The Temple Guard have extended their quarantine over one of the Termitarium's sides (good luck with that).

After about fifteen minutes of pushing through a crowd of people, you finally make it to the board where announcements are frequently pinned. To your disappointment, there is but one job offer there.

JOB 1:
We of the Temple Guard, the Demiurge's plated fists, are looking for a skilled unraveler of secrets. A gang of heretical ingrates has absconded with property of the Temple Guard, thus slighting the Demiurge Himself. A stipend of 75 coin shall be awarded in advance to anyone willing to retrieve said property within a week. Those intent on accepting this blessed commission may inquire further at the any Temple Guard recruitment office.

“Strider, I presume?”

You turn to face a lurk. The longaxe and a variety of skulls strapped to him have parted the crowd with ease. Despite being otherwise very well dressed, the lurk refuses to stand upright – an uncommon behavior outside of the Beastlands. You ask the gentlelurk if you know him.

“I'm afraid we've not had the pleasure, but my acquaintance does know of you. Pleased to meet you – I am Head-Taker, a close friend of Lord-Foreman Steel of the Gambit Badlands, an esteemed gentleherald of the Enterprising League,” the lurk says in a gravely voice.

JOB 2:
The Lord-Foreman is looking for skilled and respected individuals to accompany him on an adventure in the Badlands. He was delighted to hear that a shardwalker such as yourself has come back to the City, and is currently unoccupied. Will you accept our invitation and visit the Lord's Manor near his refineries in the Badlands? Tea will be served.

You tell the Lurk you will think about it. He responds that it is all he asks for, bids you farewell, then flaps his leathery wings and flies off, collapsing a flimsy stand in the process.

Lord Steel's interest in you is somewhat surprising, but it is entirely possible that he was able to learn of you and your lack of occupation without resorting to underhanded means. It is a common practice within the Enterprising League to take on some expedition with promising individuals, as to make them their allies...or pawns. As Takers value individual strength, an “adventure” alongside them is often an obfuscated test. If you can earn a Taker's respect, you could gain a valuable new contact and a few favours. Though that is a big if.

Two jobs, both unknown quantities. You suppose it could be worse. On your way out of the busy square, you bump into the very manus you previously spotted luring a would-be shopper to their death.

“Please, kind herald, a moment of your time! I am Red-Earth, a merchant and owner of several exploratory ventures. You see, I own several voidships which go to various Shards and deliver the finest of goods and curios! Fire-blades from the Burning Shard, soothing potions derived from the lakes of the Shard of Tears, and more! Unfortunately, the latest expedition I sponsored has failed to return, and I was not able to purchase the Bureau's trading license, and thus cannot sell my goods in public. I have been reduced to having to beg people to come see the goods in my wa-”

You cut the grifter off, pointing out the puddle of blood slowly spreading from underneath the door leading to his “warehouse.”

“Oh, yes, I am very sorry – one of my adjutants must have spilled some wine! I will have it cle- hey, where are you going? Good herald, please come back!” the manus calls after you,” hey! You are a freebooter, are you not? I might have a job for you!”

You sigh, turning around. Why is it that every two-bit thug and their mother can tell this about you?

“Yes, uhm...you see,” Red-Earth begins in hushed tones, “I do occasionally peddle in honest goods as a middleman between client and freebooter. I am a fixer, understand? And I've an offer for you...”

JOB 3:
A certain affluent client would like a particular spot in the Gluttonous Shard surveyed – yes, the distant one – using an experimental device they wish to test. They are offering 500 coin for the return of the device with the necessary sensory experiences stored within it. Oh, yes, do think on it – if you wish to accept, visit me in my room at the Last Meal inn. I am always there in the evenings.

The botherers, a hollow, or a grifter. Brilliant. In your long and checkered history as both shardwalker and freebooter, you never had a more dignified choice of patron.

It is now the afternoon of the second day. How do you spend it?

A) Time to find another place to live. Inns are nice and all, but discretion should be your top priority. You don't want your landlord to sell you out, now do you? Describe what kind of place you are looking for and in which ward; I will give you something close to what you are looking for (note that you can only afford the cheapest level of lifestyle costing 5 coins a day, so you are pretty much limited to flophouses, shacks, etc. Alternatively you could live on the street, which brings down your cost of living to 1 coin a day for food, but is very risky.)

B) Inquire in regards to the official commission at the Temple Guard recruitment office within the Voidship Yards ward.

C) Visit Lord-Foreman Steel's manor in the Gambit Badlands. You are a sucker for tea.

D) The sooner you figure out what exactly it is you are holding onto, the better. Make a trip to the Facade Ghetto and show Knows the goods.

E) Spend your dwindling jingle 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).

F) Stay indoors and lay low for a while. In the meantime, try to figure out what Whisper's belongings are through experimentation.

G) Desperate times call for desperate measures. Travel to the Termitarium and find the door within an endless hallway for the promised "assistance, information, and employment opportunities."

H) Something else, please specify what.

:updatedmytxt:

-added new characters to the Journal: Red-Sea, Lord-Foreman Steel, Head-Taker
 

Gauldur's Bait

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Oct 14, 2015
Messages
247
All three jobs have the possibility of us going belly-up, and Job 3 seems flat out suicidal unless we have a very high dodge skill. Job 1 might be suited to us due to our teleportation belief move, but the pay sucks, and it might involve fighting, at which we seem to suck (so far). Pay 2 is quite the joker card although the belief move might serve us well here as well, to get us out of the difficult situation when it arises. Going to vote for the "safe unknown", i.e. Job 2.

However, we don't necessarily have to go there immediately however, so why not

First

A). Facade Ghetto seems like a good place we could hide in and cover our tracks, the apparently almost identical buildings making looking for us very difficult, but we can cover great distances through teleportation. Also would have easy access to Knows from our new hole up.

Then

Job 2. C) (if there is time/possibility)

 

Azira

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Codex 2012
Hmmm... I don't like the idea of anyone else knowing what it is that Whispers stashed. So that excludes asking Knows.

I think we should get a job. And the gentleman offering tea sounds just right.

C :obviously:
 

hello friend

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Feb 26, 2012
Messages
7,847
Location
I'm on an actual spaceship. No joke.
I heard that there was some big fuss because he was real unprofessional with some of the people he was investigating. Treated them like they were his guests, or the like. You know – tried to exercise good manners, chat them up, arrested one after inviting her for dinner, even.
The Lord-Foreman is looking for skilled and respected individuals to accompany him on an adventure in the Badlands. He was delighted to hear that a shardwalker such as yourself has come back to the City, and is currently unoccupied. Will you accept our invitation and visit the Lord's Manor near his refineries in the Badlands? Tea will be served.
Hmmm.

HMMM.

It's probably nothing.

D) We either gotta move or stash the goods at a safe place. Our quarters are searched for suspicious goods regularly, after all. Lithium Flower Knows is a trusted individual, right? How well do we know him? This would be a good way to learn something about the items as well as keep them out of Boxes's hands.

IF we don't know Knows well enough to trust him that well, or we know him too well to trust him overmuch, I'm flopping to

A) Facade Ghetto flophouse.

As for jobs, why don't we go with JOB 3 and hire a Champion for 75g/day? Alternatively a couple of Green Freebooters at 2x 35/day.

Proper payday, but also taking precautions. With that much money, we could buy a hovel after. A very big plus with the Champion, is that in addition to having a lot of health and doing good damage he runs a lot slower than we do due to the full plate armour. If the shit really hits the fan, well... there's an extra buffer right there.

Edit: Just realised we can't afford a Champion. Might be we could borrow a teensy bit of cash somewhere? From Knows, maybe? Otherwise, we could still hire 1 Green Freebooter for 35g/day.
 
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Alright, so:

All three jobs have the possibility of us going belly-up, and Job 3 seems flat out suicidal unless we have a very high dodge skill.

You don't need a specific skill set to succeed at a job. You will be free to choose your approach, ala Deus Ex. All three of these are more or less suited to you (Explorer with high Wisdom) but not in the same way. Though if you do want to talk about skills, consider that you have the crafting skill but no fidget's kit to actually make stuff.

Job 1 might be suited to us due to our teleportation belief move

Which you no longer have. :negative:

Gentlemen, I'm afraid we can't accept the job without visiting the manor first. That'd be C.

This is exactly right. There are no numerical votes this update. The numbers next to the jobs are there just for ease of reference. B) will allow you to accept Job 1, C) is more or less committing to accept job 2, and in the evening you will have the opportunity to visit Red-Earth for job 3.

Knows is a trusted individual, right? How well do we know him?

You've done jobs for him before. He is trusted in the sense that he, too, does shit that is at best in the grey area of legality for a living as a unsanctioned scholar. So you can trust him not to rat you out to the Officials, at least. As for his actual loyalty in the traditional sense, you've no idea: he is really weird.

Might be we could borrow a teensy bit of cash somewhere? From Knows, maybe?

Not from Knows (scholars like him probably spend most of their free cash on bribe money and stardust). You will have to find someone willing to give a loan to somebody acting outside of the law, so that rules out actual banking institutions. But yeah, you can totally try to look for a street-level loanshark.
 

hello friend

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Feb 26, 2012
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I'm on an actual spaceship. No joke.
I see.

In that case, my vote is:
A) Facade Ghetto flophouse
JOB 3 in the evening*
*Hire Green Freebooter (35g/day) with [Skill] Awareness and [Equipment] Brigandine, valued at a cool 100g. Providing 2 points of armour, maximum speed of march.

I'm assuming transport to the shard will be provided, for Strider and hireling?
 
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I'm assuming transport to the shard will be provided, for Strider and hireling?

You don't know yet. Sometimes freebooters are given means of transport, other times they are pointed in the direction of a portal or a private voidship, and sometimes they are expected to do their own legwork to find a way to the other Shard. Keep in mind that portals to the distant shards are rare, voidship travel to them is unsafe, and all attempts to get there unless under official commission of some sort are illegal.
 

Gauldur's Bait

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Joined
Oct 14, 2015
Messages
247
The "high dodge skill" was a poor attempt at AoD reference right back at the "decadent trader", and I failed miserably. :D
 
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Man, the ties have been unreal for the past few updates. I wonder if I should implement a tie-breaker mechanic, perhaps make votes with some justification attached win ties vs "silent" votes? I don't know.

Anyway, die of fate. 1-3 means you visit , 4-6 means that you visit Knows.

...the Die of Fate
Result: 5; You go to Knows!

Part 12 – Belly of the Beast

Wards are huge. They take the better part of the day to cross on foot. Most folk live close by to where they work for this reason. Thankfully, there are several public transportation options for those who frequent travel. You find the entrance to the cheapest one not far from the market square.

A stone archway marks a stairway descending into the earth. Echo carries your footsteps throughout the stone tunnel as you descend into it. It is dark and grimy here, though crowded enough that you are safe from being mugged. Soon you and the other travelers cross to the end of the tunnel and come across a fleshy membrane illuminated by an oil lamp. A thing in a floor-length robe and a white theater mask shambles towards the membrane, pulling it open, signalling the crowd to come inside the worm. The Serving Dead staff much of the Builders' works.

The belly of the beast is lit with lamplight and smells strongly of antiseptic. The insides of the great beast have been hollowed out, giving dozens of passengers enough room to sit down but nowhere near enough to get comfortable. There are many corpses running down the length of the worm, placed in regular intervals, nailed down in a way that would allow one to sit on them. "Do not waste," as a Builder would say.

You settle down on a sturdy hammerite carcass, silently laughing at an idiot commuter who decided to pick a particularly malnourished buzzer as their seat of choice. With a noise of stretching flesh, a hatch from above your seat pops open, the upper torso of a dead manus hanging upside-down, facing you.

“PAY THE FIVE COINS FARE PLEASE” it says, stretching its many hands towards you.

You pay the thing, of course (it throttles those who don't, or so you've heard). A dead fist closes around your money and, after a short examination, the dead manus pops back into the “roof” of the worm, the fleshy hatch shutting behind it. A minute or so later there are two successive screams: one of the undead worm coming to life, and the other coming from the steam engine within it.

You arrive at the Ghetto in an hour's time.

---

Cold, bare concrete. Somehow even the chaos of the Termitarium is preferable to most. Only the poorest of the poor live here, most of them buzzers. You pass through this stone jungle, almost running past alleys dominated by massive organic spheres nicknamed the “shitglobes” by non-buzzers. It helps that you can smell these scum-ridden structures well in advance.

Ah, the building opposite of Facade #3. The place underwent a number of strange happenings a few years back. The foundation shook at night. Children (most of them buzzer larvae) would disappear. Some residents claimed that they would sometimes try to enter a room, but would emerge on a different floor or inside of a different building entirely. As the Temple Guard never bothered to investigate, the locals started blaming these occurances on the shadow of the Facade and began leaving the place. The building became abandoned as such incidents increased in frequency and severity and is almost never visited now, especially not the top floor which has become inaccessible after both stairwells leading to it have collapsed.

You approach Facade #3. The uniform buildings that make up most of the ward are dwarfed by these giant blocks. Neon lights illuminate its entrance, saying something in a language you don't understand. You proceed inside the concrete halls, which are empty and dark. You make the wrong turn and instead of heading for the stairway you walk into a common room occupied by a few dozen of people living in squalor, more than half of them buzzers. They all draw their weapons, ready to defend their measly belongings with their lives. You simply leave.

The rooms on the first floor are many and varied. As you go up, however, architecture becomes simpler and simpler. Corridors become shorter, entire rooms vanish and are replaced by empty space. On the sixth floor you find a large chamber you are looking for, dominated mostly by an expanse of blank nothingness. It is unclear how this absence of space came to be or why the Shard was absorbed in such a way, but it is certain that anyone who enters it disappears. The gangs of the Facade Ghetto have worked hard to provide many practical examples of this phenomenon.

You carefully cross the room through a pathway of space that exists within the stretch of nothingness. It is hard to spot with a naked eye, and must be traversed carefully, lest one accidentally enters the blank darkness around them.

The opposite end of the room contains a single window, looking out towards the abandoned building. You vault over the window, and your feet touch down on the air below the frame as if they stood on hard ground. The invisible bridge takes you to the top floor of the abandon building.

You smirk. Knows' tricks remind you of Whisper. To this day, you still don't know what it is that Knows specializes in, exactly: alchemy, conjuration, sorcery, or the strictly forbidden wizardry. You've always figured that you'd live longer if you didn't ask.

A scroll crunches underneath your feet. Then another. Stacks and stacks of literature fill the space of Knows' hideout, the absence of shelves forcing them on the floor. Knows wears his heresy on his sleeves – books, especially on important or arcane matters, are strictly regulated and are meant to be returned to the libraries from which they came from. You peek your head into the “study”, where you find the old herald levitating in the middle of the room, surrounded by a dozen or so rocks orbiting him, each emitting a differently-colored light. As the scholar spots you, he produces a frightened noise, and everything in the room comes crashing down onto the floor.

“You again? The fuck did you come back here for? What is the point of a hideout if I get idiots visiting me every, what is it...three months or so!?” the herald berates you, rubbing his rear. “Looking to get freebies again? I gave you a case full of stardust last time – you realize how far five dozes carry me in my work? And now I ha-oh! Oooooh...”

Knows changes his tune as soon as you show him the items. The next dozen or so minutes go by as he retreats with them to the back of the study, concealed from your sight by a small mountain of books and scrolls, and makes a variety of interested noises. Finally he shows himself again, looking excited and bewildered.

“Let us start with the simple findings first,” he begins, “the vial is filled with, well, beholder excrement. Trust me, I tasted it. All I got were some faint experiences, all jumbled together beyond recognition. This quantity of substance is simply too great and too concentrated in order to retrieve anything useful out of it. Dilution could work, but I would have to work out the theory behind it, first. Truth be told, I have never dealt with recovering individual experiences from what is in effect a beholder chamberpot. Nor have I ever read of someone who was encountered the same issue.

“Now, that organic spheroid...that is a complete mystery. I have never seen, nor read, of anything like it. It is certainly sentient, and appears to respond to stimuli by growing various organs one would typically find on a face which seamlessly disappear when no longer in use. What I found to be rather fascinating is that said organs those of a herald very closely, but are not quite right, though I will need time to confirm this.

“I am very much ready to subject both items to a full range of experiments, in order to get the most out of them hopefully without damaging either item, though you know how these things are – they are likely to take up quite a bit of my valuable time...”

He seems eager. Perhaps overly eager, but you know better than to expect him to do it out of mere interest. You tell him to cut to the chase and ask what is it that he wants in return.

“Perhaps if you'd only be a little patient I'd tell you, you ungrateful whoreson!” the mad herald shouts, switching back to his abrasive tone. “Have you any idea what you are having me do? You barge in here, expecting me to drop everything I am already doing and diddle around with a jar of beholder shit and an eye-thing. You can show a little bit of fucking respect, or you can fuck off to some other scholar with zero regard for Demiurge's law and a working relationship with some slimy freebooter!”

After a few seconds more of shouting, followed by a breathy period of calmi, Knows says, “since it is not like I owe you any favors, I will expect you to cover the projected expenses, plus provide some gold for unexpected damages and the like. I think 200 coins should just about cover it...alternatively, I've got a little errand for you.”

JOB 4:
In case you are as stupid as you look, Strider, you may have noticed that I have been trying to recreate the environment of the Shard of Curious Depths in my study using rather crude methods before you came in. As you might know (unless you live under a literal rock), the Censors have been rather forthcoming with the information they have released about this Shard. I have been infatuated with the question of how a suspended flight within the depths of that Shard would feel like. I want you to take this potion of Featherfall, which slows down your descend for 10 minutes after being imbibed, travel to the shard, perform the experiment, and then report back to me. A simple verbal explanation will do. Yes, of course, think it over – oh, and do feel free to leave the items here. If there is one positive thing that I must say about you is that you are rather reliable. Money or report, I know that you shall have either one for me in due time, and I may as well start experimenting with these items now. What say you?

1A) Leave the items with Knows.
1B) Take the items back with you.
1C) Leave the items with Knows, and agree to do the job, taking the potion of Featherfall off his hands and getting some extra intel on the task.
1D) Attempt to haggle with Knows (specify what exactly you want).
1E) Say/do something else, please specify

On your way back to the undead worm station, you are reminded of the living space in the area.

2A) Rent out a bed at a flophouse in this ward and move in
2B) The room at the inn is fine for now, not to mention cozier

It is now the evening of the second day. What do you do?

3A) Time to find another place to live. Describe what kind of place you are looking for and in which ward; I will give you something close to what you are looking for (note that you can only afford the cheapest level of lifestyle costing 5 coins a day, so you are pretty much limited to flophouses, shacks, etc. Alternatively you could live on the street, which brings down your cost of living to 1 coin a day for food, but is very risky.)

3B) Inquire in regards to the official commission at the Temple Guard recruitment office within the Voidship Yards ward.

3C) Visit Lord-Foreman Steel's manor in the Gambit Badlands. You are a sucker for tea.

3D) Go meet Red-Earth in his room at the Last Meal and discuss his job proposal.

3E) Spend your dwindling jingle 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).

3F) Desperate times call for desperate measures. Travel to the Termitarium and find the door within an endless hallway for the promised "assistance, information, and employment opportunities."

3G) Something else, please specify what.
 

Grimgravy

Arcane
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3,469
Codex 2016 - The Age of Grimoire
1A I don't want to commit to going to another shard before talking to Lord-Foreman Steel
2B
3C
 
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:negative:No interwebs for 9 hours now and counting (posting from phone /w data)

The update will be posted when I wake up, hopefully my ISP will unfuck itself before then.
 
Joined
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21 hours without high resolution pornographies, men. And I live in a first-world country. Expect next update in ~32 hours so that everyone can vote and we can get back closer to the usual update time.

---

Part 13 - He Has Already Won

After handing you the potion of Featherfall, Knows explains that you should see a freebooter sorceress called Veil who is currently staying at an inn in the Twilight Beastlands called the Twilight Sonata. Supposedly, Veil specializes in finding portals before the Officials and owes Knows a favor.

The worm takes you to the Badlands, although leaving the ward was unnecessary to see a significant part of them. Thick smog emitted from the many foundries dotted around the broken landscape of the Badlands blankets not only the entirety of its home ward, but frequently makes it as far as the Facade Ghetto.

You look around after getting above ground. The entire world here seems two-tone: the dark gray of the sky above and the dull beige of the cracked ground below. Soon after you begin coughing your lungs out. The air under the smog is heavy and bitter. Most of the workers and prospectors that spend most of their time in this ward develop coughing fits and gravely voices, especially if they cannot afford remedies.

This entire ward consists of small mining towns and larger industrial hives of refineries and adjacent facilities separated by long stretches of wasteland. Thankfully, the worm station is not far from Lord Steel's manor, so you've only a short walk ahead of you. You do find it bizarre that someone with the assets of Lord-Foreman Steel has decided to make this ward their home. It is not uncommon for local industrialists and foundry owners to have homes far away from all this heat and smog.

Minutes pass before you begin sweating profusely into your coat. You take it off, trying to shield your face from the abrasive, sand-ridden wind with your hands instead. Finally, you make out a little paved gate for the workers and visitors of the property, and follow it to the entrance to Lord Steel's complex.

It is even worse than you thought. The manor is in the very middle of Steel's properties, surrounded by kilometers of smokestacks and the industrial facilities beneath them. If the Lord-Foreman's intention behind the invitation was to inflict you shorten your lifespan, he has already won.

When you make it to the manor's entrance, you don't even bother taking a good look at its facade. You find it impossible to distinguish its height from that of every other structure in sight. The smokestacks that surround you jut out towards the Void defiantly, utterly dwarfing you. From where you are standing, everything is equally tall – that is to say, infinitely bigger than you, much like the buildings in Demiurge's Plaza, only for far more mundane reasons.

The inside of the lobby is not much better. There is nothing here that would make you forget that you are inside the Gambit Badlands, if only for a second. Instead, large mock-up mechanisms made from precious metals decorate the lobby. One of the walls is dominated by an intricate factory schematic, laid out in gems. The only thing that is even a little bit out of place, by the virtue of being a sheer necessity, is a large clockwork device which operates a series of autonomous fans. Their effect is marginal but to you it feels like stepping into a reinvigorating cold bath.

A few servants of various races, most female, greet you. You refuse their offer to help you with your coat – perhaps this is your first test, however insignificant. A male servant in a butler's uniform points you towards Steel's office.

In the hallway outside of the office you come across Head-Taker, looking pretty much exactly the same as the last time you saw him.

“Greetings, good shardwalker,” he growls, his stature still as beastlike as ever. “Other guests of Lord-Foreman Steel have arrived and are enjoying some freshly-brewed tea in the waiting room as the kind Lord is talking to the latest arrival. You are more than welcome to join them, or perhaps choose from a selection of board or card game sets at the back of the room if you are interested in playing a game of chance with me.”

Huh. You thank Head-Taker for the offer and tell him that you will consider it. You open the door and enter a rather spacious waiting room, the walls of which are lined with portraits of various heralds, probably Lord Steel's family. The room is full of fine furniture: couches of various shapes, sizes, and colours; duvets, many pillows, and a single round table surrounded by five chairs. Two mani sit at the table, which is occupied by a tea set. The one facing you briefly glances at you, then back at the table, then throws another glance at you (this time not-so-briefly) and spits out his tea.

Step-There. An older shardwalker who had attempted to explore nearby shards at every chance he'd get, but who always retreated before finding anything of substance, and thus never got accepted as a member of the Seekers Guild. His wide but shallow experience has made him venerable in some circles and a joke in others. He was a part of your and Whisper's last expedition, thus the two of you have a rather difficult history.

Step-There lowers his eyes and tries to do something about the stain on the tablecloth, desperately trying to ignore your existence. His companion did not even appear to notice his spit take and is seemingly absorbed by reading. Half a dozen or so books (tomes, really) are piled up on the other manus' side of the table. He is flipping through a few of them simultaneously, as if cross-referencing some piece of information contained in several books, occasionally producing surprised little hums.

Quite the company. How do you waste time while Lord Steel is occupied?

1A) Try to catch up with Step-There, despite how awkward it might be.
1B) Chat-up the manus that looks to be lost in his books
1C) Play a game with Head-Taker, a lurk of contradictions
1D) Waste time in some other way, please specify how

---

A person shall soon exit Lord Steel's office. They, much like those in the waiting room, are to join the Lord-Foreman's adventure. Who are they?

2A) A female buzzer, her chitin cracked and old. She stumbles about, using a twisted staff as a crutch, her drab robe stained with Demiurge-knows what.

2B) A scarred beholder, with what looks to be a mobile armory strapped to his spherical body. He moves his tentacles about with great precision and carries himself with an attitude of a stalwart veteran.

2C
) A lurk dressed gaudily in herald fashions, walking upright in the manner of an assimilated lurk. Lurks like him are hated by their own and are coldly tolerated by the rest of the City in exchange. This one is even declawed.

2D) Someone else entirely – write-in a character, provide a short description as to their outside appearance.

:updatedmytxt:

-added Step-There to the journal

Same caveats apply for 2D as to previous "creative" choices: I am free to shut down or change the submission, etc.
 

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