Showing posts with label Serial. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Serial. Show all posts

Thursday, September 3, 2015

Bujilli: Episode 143

Previously...
The Chrononautical Airship Wanderjahr is under attack by a rival gang of pirates. Bujilli and Leeja have carried the wounded first officer to the sick-bay. Now hostile blob-things are plopping through some sort of interdimensional aperture...

One by one a series of squishy gray-green blobs wiggled and jiggled through an aperture just barely large enough to accommodate their boneless bodies. A foul, gray smog dribbled through a bit more with each new creature that plopped out into the sick-bay waiting room area. The creatures had eight pseudopods surrounding a single glaring black eye and they were clearly hostile. Each one was armed with various hacking and slashing weapons and they appeared intent on putting their blades to harmful use.

"I doubt they're going to want to be our friends..." Leeja laughed as she drew forth her hand-axe.

"They're Transvectors. If they kill us, they'll ransack our dead brains for whatever spells they can salvage." Bujilli had encountered one of these things before. Years ago. In his Uncle's yurt. It had been sent to murder them both in their sleep by his Uncle's one and only apprentice.

"They bleed if we cut them, right?"

"Usually, yes. but they are sorcerers in their own right so--"

Harsh green flames erupted from the tips of  the closest blog-thing. Acrid yellow-green chlorine gas swirled like dragon's breath as the creature flailed its limbs about.

Bujilli knew he had to act fast. He cast Julidi's Darts directly into the central eye of the out-gassing blob-thing. The eye exploded, yellow syrupy fluids spewed onto the floor.

"This is a place of healing. How dare you engage in violence here of all places. Get Out!" a stocky nurse wearing a blood-spattered apron over her medical habiliment pointed to the door with the poise and authority of an affronted empress.

The chlorine gas dispersed. The damaged blob-thing convulsed pitifully on the floor in a pool of fluids and mushy bean-like masses of internal tissue.

The other three blobs began to move toward the door.

"Don't even try it. We'll do what we can for your friend--" the nurse scowled at Bujilli; "and send them along back to you, however things turn out. But you are not going to invade this ship from here. So either you go back now of your own accord, or I send you on your way and I promise that you won't like where I'll send you."

The three remaining blob-things hovered over the thrashing form of their fallen comrade. Their eyes fixed in anger and hatred on Bujilli. For a tense moment it seemed as if the blobs were going to continue their attack regardless of the nurse.

She sighed in disgust then shut down the aperture with a curt gesture; "Fine. Be that way." Then she made three successive gestures that left a peculiar pink afterglow in the air around her right hand and the blobs were gone, including their grievously wounded fellow.

"You too!" The nurse growled and shooed Bujilli and Leeja out of the waiting room back into the corridor; "If you run into a janitor, let them know we could use one."

The door slammed.

Bujilli and Leeja stood there staring at the door in disbelief.

"I'm not sure what just happened..."

"Probably better to not think about it too much." Bujilli scratched his chin. His beard needed a trim.

"I can still hear fighting down that way," Leeja pointed the way they had come from. The clang and clatter of close-quarters combat was getting louder as it approached them.

"I'm fine with going the other way for now--this is not our fight and I'm disinclined to get caught-up in things..."

"I'd rather we didn't find ourselves on the wrong side."

"Agreed. Let's find the helm or whatever they use to steer this ship around."

"The command and control area?"

"Sure. That sounds right."

"Then what?"

"We take over the ship while everyone is busy fighting--"

Six lightly armored combat homunculi armed with cutlasses and small bucklers trotted around the corner. Each one had a large red, green or blue number painted across their torso, the front of their helmet, and across their buckler. Bujilli froze in mid-sentence and began to prepare another spell--Zymurgic Disgestion this time. Leeja raised her hand-axe.

The combat homunculi trotted past them.

Bujilli watched them go down the corridor. He lost sight of them as they turned another corner and the sounds of fighting got a lot louder all of a sudden.

"That was weird." Leeja looked at him questioningly.

"I think that we're still technically guests of the Baroness."

"Ah. That makes sense. Maybe we can use that to our advantage."



Meanwhile...
Electricity coursed through the coils and a violet radiance flickered deep within the fluid condensers. Loops of seven-metal cables coated with gutta-percha led from the crackling, sparking, smoking apparatus to the inert form of their fallen master. Ozone cut through the lingering stench of corruption and grave mold. The nosferatu cultists twitched with every discharge or wild arc of errant power. They stood huddled around the lead-lined coffin, claws shaking, rat-fangs dripping, their beady eyes glowing lurid red in anticipation of the fulfillment of their clever scheme. Retaliation and revenge would soon be theirs! The master would rise again! The vampiric minions didn't hear the squeaking and scratching of the hordes of rats descending upon them as Old Man Putney directed his little friends against their once and former tormentors. The rats harbored a deep and abiding resentment towards these once human things that had lorded it over them for so very long. Many were still mere animals, most in fact, but here and there among them were larger, smarter specimens, rats who remembered and who hated and had ambitions of their own and who went along with the one they considered an ally. For now... 





Neither of them had ever been on a real airship before, so they spent as much time wandering about lost as they did trying to avoid clusters of combatants. The mis-matched and rag-tag members of the Baroness' crew and their squads of Pruztian homunculi put up as good a fight as they could manage against the crew of aerial brigands or mercenaries who had boarded the ship.

After passing through yet another corridor littered with bodies and discarded weapons, Bujilli decided to take a better look at who they were dealing with, so he examined one of the brigand's face-masks. It incorporated built-in goggle-lenses and a pair of tubes that connected to a brass cylinder strapped to their chests. The mask had a set of clasp-like catches that popped free easily enough. It was well-made stuff. Then he saw the face behind the mask.

"What is that?" Leeja hissed.

Gray, wrinkled, the brigand's face was wizened in a disturbingly unnatural manner. Stiff whitish whiskers and hairs stuck out every which way. Their eyes were oozing pink orbs surrounded by puffy, gray folds of flesh with lines of scabrous flakes spiraling outwards. There were three or four small brass hooks still holding folds of flesh together on each cheek. The thing reeked of stale vinegar and moldy cheese.

"I've never seen anything like it."

"Are they human?"

"I don't have the least idea how to answer that. I mean...we're both--"

"Look out!" Leeja chopped her hand-axe into the arm of the unmasked brigand. A wickedly serrated knife clattered to the floor. They slumped, head lolling, mouth gaping to expose six rows of sharp iron teeth.

Bujilli shoved the corpse back against the wall and made sure it was dead before he released it. His Counsel displayed a sequence of simplified glyphs in his peripheral vision. One designated the gray-skinned creature as definitively Abhuman. Another denoted 'Unnatural,' and a third was for 'Hostile.'
But that was all preliminary speculation based upon its very limited observations--whatever this creature was, it was not something the machine etched into Bujilli's bones could either recognize or name.

"This thing has teeth like a manticore." Leeja scooped up the knife.

"Manticore? I've never seen one--"

"Yes you have. In the beast-pens where we first met. It was the large lion-thing with the man-face and spiked-tail..."

"Oh the strange not-cat thing. Yes. I remember it now. I didn't know that it had teeth like that."

"Most people never notice the teeth, it's usually the spikes that get you."

"Do you think these things are related to manticores then?"

"I don't know. All I can say is that those are not the teeth of an herbivore...so we might want to avoid getting taken prisoner by these things."

Bujilli considered collecting a sample or three, but he didn't feel it was the best use of his time. They still had not found the helm or control center. So they kept moving.

They avoided two more pitched battles between the gray-folk and the homunculi. Leeja had six new knives in her belt. Bujilli had four. Then they came to a junction where three corridors met and merged into a round chamber. On the far side of the chamber was a massive opening. Cables, ropes and netting held a smaller airship in-place. Bodies were strewn all over the place. Mostly homunculi and crew-members in their gaudy, mis-matching uniforms.

"This must be the brigand's ship."

"It appears unguarded."

"They were probably too busy fighting their way inside this ship to leave anyone behind..."

"That would be stupid. Unless they had no intention of leaving. I've heard about some tribes in the Septagoorean Archipelago that will set fire to their canoes or rafts so that they cannot retreat when they invade a rival's island. Maybe these gray-things intend to take this ship...or die trying."

"I say we take it."

"What?"

"Let's get out of here!" Leeja ran to the tethered airship.

For a moment Bujilli hesitated. He didn't know where he was, where the other airship had come from, who the gray-things were, why they--it simply didn't matter. He ran to catch up to his partner. She beat him to the ladder, but he was the faster climber.

Within half an hour they managed to get the airship operational and began clearing the lines. After hacking through the second cable Bujilli decided it would be easier, and faster if one of them un-did the knots while one of them kept the ship as steady as possible.

That proved to be far easier said than done and he nearly got crushed twice before finally getting the last line cut loose--he gave up on the knot and resorted to his hand-axe.

He returned to the pilot's gondola just as Leeja pulled the release for the nose-tether clamps.

The airship lurched to the left. Shivered. Shuddererd. Then the fans kicked in and they began moving backwards, away from the larger airship.

"I'm not sure what half of these dials or levers or other controls do, but it has a wheel for steering it like a riverboat and there are levers right here that let you raise or lower the nose." Leeja demonstrated the controls. She was like a small child with an amazing new toy.

"Good. You seem to have everything under control for now..."

"It is pretty handy that everything is labelled in Franzik, so we have a chance to work out what each of the labels mean." Leeja was beaming happily. She'd never stolen an airship before.

"Good. Get us out of here, as far away from the Baroness and her airship as quickly as you can. I'm going to go check the rest of the ship. I don't want to get surprised by some stow-away or guard that was sleeping on duty or whatever."

"Which way should I go?"

"I don't know. Pick a direction. One's as good as another. You decide."

Click. The Synchronocitor snapped into visibility and hovered before a black box-like apparatus off to the right of the great wheel that steered the ship. Violet light flickered along the mechanism as it began to pulse.

"What is happening?" Leeja whispered.

"I'm not sure."

Transpositional Engines at one-third power. Initiating System Recharge Protocol.

"Does that mean what I think it does?" Leeja smiled mischievously.

"It means we can take this ship just about anywhere we want...once it is fully charged."

"Well I'm going to take us...hmmm...North for now. We can let the magic doohicky thing there recharge things for now."

"It's a Synchronocitor. It isn't...it's...I don't know what it is really, only that it gives the person who operates it the means to travel from one world to another. I've never really had a chance to examine it very closely, or to experiment with it. I don't really know what all it might be capable of doing."

"You might want to consider looking into that when you get back from making your rounds. Hey. Do you want me to come along? I can lock the wheel into position...as long as we're not gone for too long, that ought to be alright."

"I'm not sure I trust that. I'll go it alone this time."

"Fine. I offered. Bring me back something to eat, will you?"

Bujilli headed up the ramp that led up from the pilot gondola into the body of the airship where the inner decks were located, hand-axe at the ready...



Roll some dice!

Synchronocitor Status: Recharging Transpositional Engine number one: currently at 28% and charging.


Roll for Initiative...
Roll 1d6 for 1) Bujilli, 2) Anyone/anything that might be up there inside the seemingly abandoned airship.

Then...
We need to decide which direction Bujilli will go first once he reaches the top of the ramp. He can go right, left or forward. Right leads to six doors set into the walls of a hexagonal chamber, as does going left. Going towards the tail-section leads down a 12' wide catwalk with another set of the hexagonal chambers set thirty feet away. The catwalk continues another thirty feet to a single hexagonal chamber at the end. If Bujilli looks around a bit before heading down the catwalk, he'll see that there is a loop around the ramp-entrance and the catwalk extends towards the front of the airship about half as far as the one that leads back towards the tail-section. That section of catwalk also terminates in a hexagonal chamber. So which direction should Bujilli go first? Do you want him to go toward the nose or the tail first? Should he open every door, or just make a quick check of things? Is there a spell he might consider using in this situation?

More Dice...
We need a few D20 rolls, a well as a few d6 rolls in order to sort out any potential encounters, salvageable bits, unattended loot, supplies, etc.

And Then...
Now Bujilli and Leeja have their own airship and the Synchronocitor is getting it ready to transition to another world at their command. So where should they go? What should they do first? Any suggestions or questions? Let me know in the comments!

What Should They Do Next?

You Decide!

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Thursday, August 27, 2015

Bujilli: Episode 142

Previously...
Hauled aboard the Chrononautical Airship Wanderjahr, Bujilli 7 Leeja are brought before the baroness-commander only to get caught in the cross-fire when an unknown assailant strikes...

"Baroness--" Oberleutnant Schaungrazz stopped in mid-step as a wet scarlet flower blossomed from his right shoulder, then another erupted from his left thigh. Sparks jumped from a three other spots where his cuirass deflected a hail of bullets.

"Death has found you Margaret!" yelled a burly man in blackened chain-mail as he cast aside his modified six-barreled fowling-piece and drew forth a pair of short but heavy sabers and charged directly at the Baroness. The fowling piece clattered and clicked as parts of it retracted or rotated or slid into new positions. It took on the form of a sort of candelabra, only with fluorescent tubes flickering into life in place of candles. Then a stick-man figure crafted from cunningly crafted brass rods peeled itself out of it's notch and began the process of reloading each of the barrels. The six glowing tubes started to hum with a menacing electrical current.

Bujilli caught the wounded officer as he crumpled to the catwalk and dragged him back, away from the impending carnage. Leeja started ripping off sections of the Oberleutnant's jacket-lining to bind his wounds. They were stopped by the railing. In order to get away, they would need to get past the attacker or else go the long way around, past the Baroness.

The attacker stalked right past them. He clearly didn't consider them worth his attention. But the Barnoness was staring at them both in surprise through reflective golden eyes.

Sparks ricocheted from the catwalk to the man in black chain-mail. Tiny blue arcs leaped form the man's armored arms and shoulders to the railings and metal fixtures. Bujilli could feel the surge as power built-up around the candelabra that used to be a gonne. The stink of Ozone assaulted his nostrils.

The Baroness brought up her hands, not to surrender but to ward off the crackling blue cascade of electrical energy that washed past her attacker to form a globe about her and him...and Bujilli, Leeja and the wounded Oberleutnant...and the surly Ourang.

The aeronautical homunculi stood in mindless obedience while the gargoyle screeched and scrabbled at its chains trying to get free.

Pink flames rose into the electrically-charged air from the Baroness' out-stretched hands, but it was not enough to counter the crackling globe of energy that surrounded them now. With a nod she relinquished her efforts and withdrew the flames as though she were merely playing a game of chess that had only now gotten interesting.

"You have no right to invade my ship!"

"I serve the Keepers of the Keys--"

"Liar! You answer to the Faceless Lords of Zevaq. You always have. Pawn."

The man in black halted three paces from the Baroness. His sabers shimmered like glass or ice as electrical arcs skittered along their edges. The globe of electrical power pulsed. The candelabra-device at the center of the globe hummed more loudly. Bujilli felt the immense powers coming into play. His hair was standing on end from all the static. They needed to get out of here. Fast.

"Take his feet. We're getting out of here." He hefted the unconscious Schaungrazz, adjusted his grip and began to trot toward the nearest exit-point he recognized; back the way they had entered this chamber, past the candelabra-device. Bujilli hoped against hope that the man in black-mail would ignore them a little longer, so they could make their escape. This was not a fight he anted to get caught-up in.

"Alowawa ullititi gan-gosh-i-rosh." The surly Ourang rose to it's feet and drew forth a wicked looking club fitted with hundreds of screws with their pointed ends jutting out every which way and spinning madly.

"Silence. Beasts should not talk in rude imitation of their betters." The man in black-mail thrust one saber in a sort of looping motion directed at the Ourang. Lightning sprang from the super-charged floor to blast the creature in its mid-section...



Meanwhile...
Jomish watched the sun set behind the columns that stretched up past the clouds into the dark night above. He counted sixteen pylons topped with golden orbs before the angle of the light changed and the valley was plunged into darkness. Just at the very limit of his physical sight she came into view; a small seemingly inconsequential speck in the far distance. No one would ever mistake such an insignificant thing for a Princess. there wasn't even a glint of dying light to betray her silver-alloy arm. But then she wasn't a princess any more, not since her disgrace and exile from Ylgreve. Jomish smiled; it would be an intriguing challenge to work with this one. Her head was filled with faulty assumptions and so much misplaced malice while her heart was a seething furnace of pride and arrogance and hatred...much as his had been when he first came here all those long years ago... 





Bujilli and Leeja carried Oberleutnant Schaungrazz back along the catwalk encircling the central glass globe, putting as much distance between them and the Baroness and her attacker as they could.

The Ourang wobbled on its feet and lurched towards his killer, but dropped to its knees after four shuffling steps. Dead.

Screeching and struggling furiously, the gargoyle managed to snap one of the links in its chains and flew up into the durallium rafters overhead.

The door closed and they were in the corridor hung with tapestries, so they kept going. They passed two dismembered aeronautical homunculi and a cluster of combatants in mis-matched uniforms whom they managed to avoid by the simple expedient of ducking down another passage and waiting for them to pass.

"Where are we going?" Leeja whsipered.

"There." Bujilli nodded his head in the direction of a familiar doorway. The sick-bay where Leeja had been treated upon arrival. They carried Schaungrazz inside and the nurses quickly took over, leaving them standing in the foyer all alone.

"Those crew-members we passed..."

"Pirates. Or worse." Leeja nodded.

"Their uniforms and insignia seem to be almost random. I spotted Franzikaner things mixed-in with Nagrothean and some stuff I've never seen before, as well as the Pruztian and Voldarian things...and I thought Voldaria was a country only active where I came form originally..."

"There were two of them wearing White Guard armor, but I'd swear they were neither Jeelo nor Pallid. This makes no sense." Leeja went to the door to keep watch on the corridor.

"Well, we can stick around and try to sort it all out, or we can get out of here while the Baroness is occupied by her ungentlemanly caller."

VVVvvvVVVVVvVVvvVvvvVvvvvvvv-----

Hot blue arcs leaped up from the floor panels, scorching the carpet, and singing the walls as the electrical currents coalesced into a narrow oval aperture.

"Oh scheiss..."

Four gray blobs wiggled and jiggled through the aperture. Each of them wielded a variety of melee weapons in their pseudopods that surrounded a single glaring black eye.

"I doubt they're going to want to be our friends..." Leeja laughed as she drew forth her hand-axe...



Roll some dice!

Synchronocitor Status: Recompiling Core Datacache to Integrate Recent Influx of New Input.


Roll for Initiative...
Roll 1d6 for 1) Bujilli, 2) Leeja, 3) The Gray Blobby-things.

Then...
We need a few D20 rolls, a well as a few d6 rolls in order to sort out the impending combat. Also, should Bujilli and Leeja resort to some spells, or just use their weapons, and if so, should Leeja stick with the hand-axe or switch to another weapon? Likewise, should Bujilli rely on his hand-axe or something else? You decide!

And Then...
Should they hide-out in the sick-bay? Go through the aperture that the Gray Blobs used to reach them? Try to find another way off this Airship? Or would you prefer that Bujilli and Leeja did something else? they might help secure the ship from boarders...if they knew which crew was which. They could try to take over control of the ship by taking over the helm or the engine room. They could also try to sabotage the thing or try to find out where the boarders are coming from and try to take over their ship...or maybe you've got a better idea? Let me know in the comments!

What Should They Do Next?

You Decide!

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Thursday, August 20, 2015

Bujilli: Episode 141

Previously...
the pavement ended suddenly and Bujilli and Leeja found themselves half falling and half sliding down a steeply inclined pit..

Cold gravel scrunched like snapping teeth under Bujilli's boots as he tried to check his momentum. He bent his knees, shifted his weight, used his hands to slow himself down and to not tumble. The gravel around him started to slide so he flopped down on his backside and dug in his heels.

It worked. But only just.

Leeja screeched in pain as she rolled past him in a flickering cloud of hair. She came to a stop less than a dozen feet further down than he was. Her feet were badly scraped and bleeding. gold-green eyes wide with anger at having fallen into a hole in the ground, Leeja started to clamber over the loose gravel towards Bujilli.

"Stop! You're going to start a landslide. We'll get carried even farther down into this pit."

"I'm not staying here..."

"No. Neither of us are. Let me get my bearings and we'll find a way out of here."

"Fine. Just hurry. My feet hurt."

Bujilli cast a minor Glyph of Gloom and sent it floating back towards the lip of the pit.

Gravel. Small rocks. Bits of fractured pavement. No weeds. a piece of something metallic-looking here and there. Possibly some glass fragments as well.

There was nothing to grab onto. No overhanging branches, no sturdy bushes, no protruding pipes or culverts. Just a lot of gravel ready to slide down over them if they weren't careful.

"Scheiss." Bujilli swore softly to himself. This was a bad spot. He felt that he had a good chance of making it out on his own, but he didn't see how Leeja could follow without making the gravel give-way...and that would be catastrophic for them both.

"Looks like you two could use a little help!"

Bujilli looked up. Something darker than the surrounding darkness loomed overhead. Whatever it might be, it was huge and slowly coming down lower and lower towards them...



Meanwhile...
Rinjal set the hammer down. Six spikes ought to be plenty. Especially for a stout oaken door like that. Shame to ruin it, but he didn't want any of those horrid pig-things coming after him. He checked the softly glowing sigils encircling his wrist. Less than three minutes until the next transition... 




Bujilli shifted his position in order to get a better look at whoever it was that was approaching them from above. Dim violet light seeped along the edges of a vast oblong object that floated majestically overhead. Brighter spots winked into view. Markings, symbols, some sort of insignia all became slightly more visible.

"What is it?" hissed Leeja.

"An airship." Bujilli couldn't believe it. No one had seen such a thing for several generations among his mother's people and the folk of Wermspittle had given up on ever seeing one again.

But there it was right overhead.

"Here! Grab hold of the harness and get it around you so we can winch you up out of that pit!"

Clank. Scritch. A harness landed less than a foot away from Bujilli.

Leeja yowled in anger. Her harness had landed on her toes.

Bujilli clipped the harness into place as best he could; it was enough like the harness he had used as a dangler that he got it sorted out fairly quickly. Once he was ready he waved to signal that he was ready.

The cable went taut almost instantly. He lifted off from the gravel and started to spin slowly as he was pulled upwards at a constant, steady rate of speed.

He looked back to see that Leeja was not far behind him. Then they were both hauled through an opening in the floor of some compartment. Both their cables stopped at the same moment and they hung there suspended over the mouth of the pit below where they could see what might be water or dark oil down at the center of the crater-like depression. Then the hatch slid shut and they were pulled over to the side and lowered so their harnesses could be removed by a crew of winch operators.

The crew were silent and highly efficient. Each one had a number on their crisply-creased military overalls. Bujilli realized they must be Pruztian-style homunculi. He'd seen an old magazine article on these creatures that his uncle had acquired form a Dravulish trader.

"Welcome aboard the Freeship Wanderjahr." A tall, slim morlock officer wearing a baroque military jacket three sizes too wide and with too short sleeves clicked his boot heels together and saluted them both. "I am Oberleutnant Schaungrazz." the oficer's boots were clad in greave-like armor plates of some yellow metal and he wore a cuirass beneath the lopsided, mis-sized jacket. The insignia of a black three-headed eagle was hard to miss.

"Thank you." Leeja grabbed onto the railing surrounding the hatchway to steady herself.

"Yes. Thank you for getting us out of that pit." Bujilli moved closer and pulled Leeja's arm over his shoulder to help her walk. He whispered to her; "I think we may have been picked up by pirates..."

"Not at all. We were in the area and one of our observers spotted you and the Baroness gave the order to retrieve you from your precarious situation. you are both cordially invited to attend her at your earliest convenience in the forward viewing salon...but first, perhaps we should attend to you my dear--"

"Yes. Please. My feet are still bleeding." Leeja clutched more tightly to Bujilli's shoulders and whispered; "They may just be mercenaries..."

"Of course. Follow me if you please." The officer nodded his head only the slightest bit then turned on their heel and proceeded to march through a doorway that the homunculi-aeronauts quickly opened before him and held open for them all.

Oberleutnant Schaungrazz led them along a narrow corridor into a round chamber then up a set of catwalk-ramps that zig-zagged three times before they came to another wider hallway that led to the main corridor through the center of the airship. They passed more of the silent homunuculi and a couple of other soldiers or sailors who seemed to duck out of sight at their approach.

The sick-bay was a small, but very clean and orderly space overseen by a pair of nurses who quickly tended to Leeja's scrapes, bruises and cuts then gave her a pair of thick felt slippers to use until she could acquire more suitable foot-wear. The entire process was over and done with and they were on their way to meet the Baroness before Bujilli could get a word in edgewise or even ask any questions.

They boarded a small capsule-car that Shaungrazz ordered to take them to the forward viewing salon. Leeja seemed to enjoy the little capsule-car. It made Bujilli nervous. The car slid smoothly into place at a platform flanked by a pair of black eagle statues, both with three heads and a sword in one claw. One wore a monocle, the other a triple-spiked helmet. He didn't get a clear look at the heraldic markings on the shield strapped to their chests.

Lavishly carved wooden doors opened before them. The walls of the intervening corridor were hung with expensive tapestries depicting stylized boar hunts, heroes wrestling with griffins, valiant horsemen charging into battle, cannons bombarding a city under siege and more such scenes. The floor was tiled in a checkerboard pattern of red and black. Another set of doors opened and they entered a round mezzanine space that formed a circle around a globe constructed from hundreds of overlapping layers of little glass hexagons.

Their guide led them to the left and as they came around the globe they could both see the Baroness standing there with her back to them. On either side of her there was a gargoyle wearing a scratched and scored cuirass and heavy spiked collars with chains that were connected into a heavy block of metal. Three more aeronautical homunculi stood off to one side awaiting further orders stood just out of reach of the smaller gargoyle while a surly looking Ourang scowled at their approach in obvious disapproval.

"Baroness--" Oberleutnant Schaungrazz stopped in mid-step as a wet scarlet flower blossomed from his right shoulder, his left thigh, sparks jumped from a three other spots where his cuirass deflected the bullets.

"Death has found you Margaret!" yelled a burly man in blackened chain-mail as he cast aside his modified six-barreled fowling-piece and drew forth a pair of short but heavy sabers and charged directly at the Baroness...



Roll some dice!

Synchronocitor Status: Quietly observing the current situation.


Roll for Initiative...
Roll 1d6 for 1) Bujilli, 2) Leeja, 3) The Mysterious Attacker, 4) The Baroness, 5) Schaungrazz, 6) The Ourang. Right now, the Mysterious Attacker has a +3 bonus to their Initiative, everyone else is suffering a -1 penalty.

Then...
Time to either pick a side, run away or maybe just take cover. Should they get involved? would you rather they attempted to defend the Baroness (she did save them), or should they attack the Mysterious Attacker, or should they try to drag poor Oberleutnant Schaungrazz out of harm's way and try to stop his bleeding? Or so you have a better idea? Let's hear what you think they should do next in the comments...

We can always use a few bonus d6 & d20 die rolls, if anyone would be so kind. Thanks!

What Should They Do Next?

You Decide!

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Thursday, August 13, 2015

Bujilli: Episode 140

Previously...
Bujilli and Leeja quickly,  quietly, carefully moved away from a group of Pit Nibblers who were just attacked with a Fireball spell. Now they must decide if they want to investigate the ancient Barrows before them, or move on toward distant Monoliths, strange trees one of the other peculiar landmarks only now emerging from the stygian gloom...

Rough-hewn and lichen spattered, the Barrow was formed by octagonally-sectioned lengths of basalt stacked one upon another, with the gaps sealed-up by smaller, lighter colored stones, all of which were incised with runes. It didn't help that the grayish lichen clutching the vertical surfaces pulsed feebly and gave off a fetid fragrance. A riotous mass of unwholesome vegetation, most of it distinctly fungal in nature, bulged and sprouted and loomed over the Barrow like a slow motion sculptural interpretation of vomit. The dim reddish flicker seething about the edges of everything only made it all the more unsettling.

Leeja wrinkled her nose at the scent. It did not agree with her. Something crunched underfoot. Bones. Many, many tiny bones. Mice? Rats? Zoogs? The bones were so splintered and gnawed as to form a crunchy carpet that extended all around the Barrows.

Bujilli considered the sharply-sloping ramp leading down through a trench to what was intended to appear as the entrance to this Barrow. The walls of the trench were arranged in a crude pattern, not quite a full-blown mosaic. Gaps and holes were easy to pick out from the trails of bird lime and grime. Three--no four--of the holes showed traces of a sort of black oil leaking out from some sort of reservoir behind the walls. Even the lichen's rancid stench wasn't enough to hide the oil's pungency. He had no doubt that it was incredibly flammable, possibly even toxic.

At regular intervals there were bas-relief carvings set into the walls and little stone daises or platforms, three of them in all, in-between the wall-carvings. At the base of the trench was the supposed doorway underneath a massive lintel that was blocked-up with smaller rocks stacked and mortared into place with a thick white paste-like substance.

Bujilli knew that to disturb the false entrance would result in some sort of trap being triggered, something involving the black oil, or possibly something that was being held in suspension within some sort of pool of the black stuff. There were nasty jelly-things that could be stored within certain substances; he'd read about that sort of thing as part of his preparation for delving into the deep dark for his uncle.

The runes were harsh, angular slashes cut into the stone by something that struck with such force as to craze the surrounding surfaces from the sheer amount of force involved. Each rune was composed of three longer lines and two smaller, shorter lines. No two were the same.

The arrangement disturbed Bujilli; it reminded him of something he once saw as a child. One of the deep places his uncle had taken him in the course of his treacherous double-dealing with various demons, sorcerers or undead.

Undead. Yes. That was it.

Now that he knew what to look for, it was fairly easy to spot. The carvings were stylized skull-faces with gaping mouths and hollow eye-sockets where gems might once have glinted menacingly. Each one spewed a torrent of stylized water the flowed down to the bottom of their tile and then was continued by the almost mosaic pattern of the intervening stones to connect to each of the other carvings, forming a black river.

The Barrows were connected to Nitondre; the Black River of Souls that led to the Gravelands. Bujilli had been brought along by his uncle to meet with the ghouls who plied cold, dark waters of the subterranean river in their elegant funereal barges. He remembered the toothsome grimaces that passed for smiles among the un-masked members of the ghoul's entourage. He recalled all too vividly the ghouls refusal to consider him part of the bargain when his uncle suddenly offered him up to the ghouls to be rid of him. That had gone badly for his uncle. The barge-master had an even more perverse streak than his uncle and insisted that Bujilli be brought along for any future dealings.

His uncle had been furious. Not long after that, he abandoned his arrangements with the ghouls and struck up a conversation with otherplanar entities from Dalash.

Bujilli caught himself. Did not spit in disgust.

"You recognize something about this place?" Leeja stood next to him, one hand on her hand-axe.

"Enough. We can locate the actual entrance, if you're interested, but it isn't just a simple Barrow filled with old grave goods; these structures are connected to someplace dark and vile..."

"They reek of bitter old things best burned and forgotten."

"Except I don't intend to be the one to try and burn them. Let them lie here undisturbed. We have other things to go explore. No sense stirring up this sort of trouble."

Beyond the Barrow, off to either side was another Barrow, more or less similar. There was at least one more to the right. He knew without looking that there would be a fifth Barrow near-by. He meant to avoid them all...



Meanwhile...
Snails clustered around the trap-door set into floor. Fat, blue-striped things. Juicy and stupid. A good sign. Old Man Putney gave his pets the silent all-clear signal and the rats rushed in to snatch-up all the snails. It was a quick, messy little massacre and it left the rats wanting more. Good. He knew hey'd find plenty more to eat down below. He oiled the hinges then eased the trap-door open slowly, taking his time to make sure it didn't make any more sound than necessary--nosferatii were notorious for having keen hearing. It might have been something they gained form their kinship with vermin, with bats, mice and rats...like his little friends. Little did Putney realize that another of his friends was watching him intently from a vantage point just beyond his perceptions. Just as sneaky as the old man. Just as patient. Krosker waited with his finger on the trigger of his crossbow... 




Bujilli moved away from the Barrows. He had no interest in going back towards the Pit Nibblers and whomever had hit them with a Fireball spell. That meant going either right or left, then either continuing in those directions or going around the Barrows to see what might be past them.

To the right were masses of strange 'noodle' things. On the left were more of the petrified coral-trees. Between the 'noodles' and the Trees were gargantuan Monoliths that extended far into the darkness looming over everything.

There seemed to be a gap of some sort between the 'noodle' things and the Monoliths, and the Trees grew more profuse, taller and thicker and more clustered together towards the Monoliths, growing even thicker towards the far left.

"I'm inclined to head more towards the Trees..."

"Monoliths. Definitely the Monoliths." Leeja rejected the notion of getting any closer to those dreadful, grotesque tree-things in a tone that brooked no argument.

"Monoliths then. We'll head that way, after we give these Barrows a wide berth..."

"I don't see why we can't simply cut through in-between them..." Leeja set off at an easy jog, knowing that Bujilli would have to work much harder to keep up with her. He really wasn't much of a runner.

"But..." Bujilli shrugged. There was no point standing there when Leeja had made up her mind and was already in motion. He considered--but only briefly--using his Haste spell to run past her, but thought better of it. No sense in wasting a spell to win a foot-race.

He followed Leeja past the first Barrow, between the next two, then to the left of the fourth one. She kept her pace just slow enough for him to keep up within an arms length of one another.

The air grew colder, cleaner as they left the Barrows behind. The round underneath them was spongy with a type of moss and in places he could spot clumps of blue manda grass jutting out from cracks in tumbled sections of walls and what might be a road of some sort.

Leeja laughed softly, playfully as she sped up upon reaching the fractured pavement.

Bujilli smiled, huffed and puffed, and pushed himself to catch up to his friend.

The pavement ended suddenly.

Leeja tried to stop herself. Bujilli reached out to her...



Roll some dice!

Synchronocitor Status: Patiently waiting for something to do.

DEX check or Saving throw?
Bujilli and Leeja are at the very brink of a nasty fall into some sort of yawning pit...so you the readers can either roll a Saving Throw (versus Petrification) to keep them from falling, or if you prefer a more modern mechanic roll 4d6 and compare it to their respective DEXteriy scores. Either way works fine for me--You Decide!

Roll for Initiative...
Whether they fall or they manage to remain at the very lip of the pit, Bujilli & Leeja need to determine whether they can catch their breath and be ready for what happens next...or whether something else happens before they can get settled. Roll 1d6 for 1) Bujilli, 2) Leeja, 3) Whatever/whomever else shows up. No modifiers this time, as the circumstances negate their modifiers.

Roll Another 1d6 for a Wandering Monster...
There are things prowling about in the dark near this pit, so let's check whether Bujilli & Leeja attracted the notice of something hungry or maybe someone who might lend a hand; not all encounters have to be with things that want to kill, maim or eat them...

We can always use a few bonus d6 & d20 die rolls, if anyone would be so kind. Thanks!

What Should They Do Next?

You Decide!

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Thursday, August 6, 2015

Bujilli: Episode 139

Previously...
Bujilli has just spotted Leeja, but there are seven little Pit Nibblers in-between them...

Bujilli stopped in his tracks. There. He blinked three times. It was her. He smiled. Then he noticed movement between him and Leeja.

Scrape-scrape-scrape.

Leeja held up one hand as if to ward him off from her position. He nodded. Waved in response.

Crouching in the dark he watched the creatures at work near one of the larger masses of Black Sack fungi. They were gathering samples of the sticky, tarry gunk and smearing it on their weapons. Bitter, acrid vapors filled the area as the substance reacted to the metal of their weapons.

Bujilli considered their options. Behind him lie more of the Black Sacks and off to the left was a Weak Point that appeared infested with fungal-things. Neither direction felt like a particularly good way to go. He quietly backed away from the creatures who were busily poisoning their weapons.

Large, angular shapes loomed in the distance, only barely discernible in the all enveloping gloom. Past some sort of unforest of weird petrified trees. There were other shapes out there, more to the right, adjacent to the forest...some of those looked like nothing quite so much as a massive pile of noodles.

He was hungry.

They would need to get moving--if they lingered too long, the little poisoner-things would notice them and he thought he made out at least five of the things, probably more.

Bujilli closed his eyes and concentrated. He knew a spell that would allow him to silently make contact with Leeja. The spell would let him 'read' her surface thoughts and emotions. But that was not enough this time. He needed it to allow him to send her a subtle message, to let her know which way to go, that they could re-group past the creatures and head off towards the 'noodle-things.'

Gold light seeped into his field of vision. The spell unfolded itself before him. A few deft tucks and twists, a couple of re-folded sections and it was ready. He cast it effortlessly and could feel when she received it.

Wordlessly, stealthily, they both set out to avoid the creatures and to find one another farther on towards a small hillock of mound of debris that seemed nearly equally distant to them both.

Twenty-seven steps towards his destination and a sizzling yellow explosion erupted from behind Bujilli, right where the creatures had been working.

Yill-Yoi VIL vil VIL Kashijoshibash-bash-bash!

Bujilli didn't bother looking behind him, but instead started running to the hill where he was to meet Leeja. Whatever had attacked those creatures had used a Fireball. There would not be much of a fight following that...



*ESP, page 31 of  Labyrinth Lord.

Meanwhile...
Lucrettia smashed the mirror. Seven of the things had failed her. Her pet wormfaced theriomunculus gingerly picked the fractured shards from her still-clenched fist. She was livid with rage as she called for her armorer, her master-at-arms, her other retainers. If that crow-faced bitch thinks that she can humiliate me and get away with it she will soon regret it. Her retainers assembled before her, each one more fearful of incurring her wrath than the next. As it should be. Prepare my ship. We are going to pay a visit to my old mentor and I intend for Beatrice Eberhard to die as horribly as possible, as soon as possible...






Leeja didn't realize she was running until she reached the hill where she was to meet Bujilli. It wasn't a hill so much as a barrow constructed from massive stones, crudely cut with runic characters and smeared with some sort of dimly luminous ochre. Black fern-fronds jutted out of the cracks toward the top of the structure. Peculiar undulating coral-stuff curled and coiled about the place like a swarm of petrified snakes. It was too much like home to make her comfortable.

At least it smelled better than where she had woken-up.

She could feel Bujilli getting nearer through his spell. It was an interesting sensation. Leeja could 'see' how it might be possible to alter the spell to get other results. The golden light inside her bones was waking up, unlocking new possibilities for her. She smiled. It had come to her as a gift in the course of Bujilli attempting to heal her back in Wermpsittle. He had saved her life then. Now what he had done was changing her..them both..from deep within.

"A crypt." Bujilli huffed and puffed; his legs were shorter than hers. He wasn't built to run like she was. His people, at least his mother's people were climbers, high altitude mountain people who delved into deep places after dark secret things.

"A barrow. Very old. Very quiet." She didn't like it. none of the runes were anything she recognized. The ochre-stuff hurt her eyes after looking at it for more than a few seconds. The fronds had shifted, as if they were aware of her and Bujilli's presence. Leeja distrusted plants that moved of their own accord. She knew all too well what sort of things grew in the gardens of Valdruke. Flowersnake venom caused a painful fever she hoped to never experience again.

Bujilli looked back toward where they had left the creatures scraping gunk from the Black Sack fungi. a massive cloud of thick smoke obscured all but a few of the lingering flames started by the Fireball. He could only just make out the sounds of fighting through the plaintive whines and howls of those who had only just survived the blast. A grim  business. He wanted no part of it.

The Barrow had a rough-hewn ramp leading down through a trench to an entrance that was blocked-up with smaller rocks stacked and mortared into place with a thick white paste-like substance.

Beyond the Barrow, off to either side was another Barrow, more or less similar. There was at least one more to the fight.

Past that there were huge, monoliths of some sort looming high into the deep dark above, with a gap between them and the 'noodle' masses on the far right. The weird petrified trees were sparse hereabouts, becoming more thick and foresty towards the far left...



Which Way Should They Go...Barrows? Monoliths? Weird Noodle-Masses? Some Other Direction?

Synchronocitor Status: Feeling Just Excellent, Thanks For Asking.

Barrows?
Bujilli and Leeja have at least 5, possibly 6 ancient Barrows to consider examining. They could attempt to find a way inside one. should they use a spell to determine what might be inside these Barrows? Perhaps they might take a look at each one of the Barrows and try to figure out more about who built them. Maybe they should just say no thanks and walk away--You Decide!

Roll Another 1d6 for a Wandering Monster...
Purely just in case we end up in a situation where another check might be appropriate. Pleae roll 1d6 and let us know the result. Feel free to roll on the Wandering Monster Table, if you'd like to help determine what else might be out there...

What Should They Do Next?

You Decide!

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Thursday, July 30, 2015

Bujilli: Episode 138

Previously...
Spells were cast, awesome primordial powers were unleashed, a gargantuan creature was vanquished in a spiraling torrent of rust and ichor. Just before he lost consciousness Bujilli could feel the cold, clean rain as a storm broke overhead...

Bujilli woke with a start. He was cold and wet and it was very dark. He sat up. Dragged his hands through his facial scruff and scratched his head. Blood crusted his face. His skin ached with the lingering reverberation of the titanic energies he had unleashed. His brain felt like it was pickled then packed in burlap.

Standing up didn't work. His legs were wobbly. His hair was singed in places. Flakes of rust drifted all around him, stirred-up by his movements. It itched.

His eyes adjusted to the dark. It was like old times. He steadied his breathing, getting it under control, making less noise and allowing his hearing to work better in the dark. Things moved around out there. Strange scents wafted through the air. The breeze shifted direction from right to left then behind him. It seemed random. Not natural.

Hard stone blocks formed a dense, well-weathered surface beneath him. The gaps between each block was exceedingly fine; it would be difficult to slip a well-honed blade between any two blocks...and the stones were huge, cyclopean things that reminded him of the Naacal-carved passages of Uulok. He had nearly drowned in that place.

There were no stars overhead. That might be significant. He had seen the outline of a city of some sort off along the horizon before...

Bujilli levered himself up on his feet using the Synchronocitor as a staff. The device hummed softly to itself, quite content. Did it giggle just then?

His throat was sore. Something had happened. Everything was different somehow. He felt mixed-up. Confused. Sore. Cold rainwater dripped form his hair; his clothes were still soaked through and his armor creaked where the leather has soaked-up moisture despite the coats of lacquer or wax. Moving around in the stuff caused wear and tear, cracked the finish. He'd need to re-adjust things once he found some sort of shelter, or at least a better place to sleep. And some food. His stomach growled. And mead. He was fond of honey-mead and could really, really use a drink about now.

A small Gloomlight Glyph allowed him to take a better look around him without drawing too much necessary attention to himself. Where was Leeja?

The floor was wet over to the left of where he was. It reeked of rotting vegetation. Mold. Lots of mold. Something shifted. He sent the little glyph floating closer while he stretched his limbs and considered his options. He wasn't ready for any really showy spells, but he could certainly put his hand-axe to good use.

Bujilli paused. He thought of it as his axe now. Not Stril's axe any more. So much had happened. It really was his axe now, far more than it ever had been hers. Perhaps she would be proud of him now? He'd never really know.

Somethng flabby and wet flopped about in the dim illumination of the glyph. Another something shivered and fell over with a soft, sticky splash. Another. There was a patch of the dingy, yellow-smeared pulsing shapes squeezing through the softly shimmering aperture of a Weak Point.

He could see the sparkly traceries of little clouds of spores swirling on the breeze coming through the Weak Point. He sent the glyph closer still. thousands and thousands of small insect-husks spilled out form under the throbbing, rugose bags of spongy flesh-stuff. this was a Pest-Hole; a Weak Point leading to one of the Greenhells or some similar place that was overrun by vermin...only in this instance the insect swarms had fallen prey to some sort of fungal infection that had engulfed everything near this aperture.

Bujilli backed away from the sticky yellow syrup seeping out across the stones from the accumulating mass of what he assumed were some sort of fruiting bodies put forth by a massive colony-thing.

He stopped himself. Breathe. Pulled the glyph back and sent it flickering across the floor in a loop all around him. Ah. The yellow syrupy-stuff was mingling with a darker, even more foul-smelling black oil. Nasty stuff. At first he thought it might be the residue found near a Loathsome Mass or round a fresh Wet Spot, but it had tiny pink wriggly-bits flopping about in it like deformed little fish. The air grew oppressive with the noisome stench in that direction. He felt nauseous just standing near the edge of the wet, sloppy mess. Then the glyph revealed the humped and wrinkly bulk of a Black Sack. More fungi. Really nasty stuff.

He had no intention of walking through that vile black slop. His boots were soggy, but they weren't completely ruined, not like--



Meanwhile...
Borlin lit the fuse. He hated wasting perfectly good gonnepowder, but the squigglies were too damn close to under-running the place. three sappers had been found gutted and dismembered by the camp patrol only an hour ago. Less than that. Damned pocket watch had stopped working. The squigglies had probably jinxed it; they always sent in big fat dreamer to curl up in some basement or cellar so they could interfere with things like that. some of them emitted waves of irrational fear, or confusion or simple nausea. In one instance the thing had incited a mass outbreak of dysentery. He stepped back from the casks and cases of shot, powder and salted shot. There was a couple of cases of glass-shot there as well. He helped himself. There was time. He had wound the fuse himself just like grand-dad had taught him. His foot slipped on something slick. A section of the floor sloughed away and Borlin felt ripples of fear begin to wash over him. He'd found the dreamer-squiggly....






Leeja felt something tickling her wrist. Her neck. the sole of her left foot.

She sat up with a start. It was dark. Cold. She still didn't have any boots. Three little Slasher hatchlings nodded and swayed from side to side as they observed her with patient, predatory intentness.

Somehow her little Slasher friend had left behind a few more eggs than she had discovered.

Life finds a way. That was what her mother always told her growing-up in Aman Utal.

Her hair hurt. She rubbed her eyes. Everything was soaked. Her clothes stuck to her. She wanted a bath.

Snik-snik-snik. The little slashers scattered into the darkness.

She got onto her feet. The stone was comforting in its firmness and grittiness. She understood worked spaces, artificial environments; that's what she was used to from her childhood. Nature, all raw and red or green or whatever disturbed her. It was so unruly, disorganized, a riotous organic froth of things living on each other, inside one other, it was unsettling.

Runk lal lal notch wug-wug...

Leeja hunkered down, her hair unsnarling itself as she checked her belt, armor weapons. The gonne would be useless except as a club after all the rain,so she drew out her hand-axe. It wasn't as special as the one Bujilli used, but it got the job done.

She was in no shape to cast any spells. Not yet. Her brain was too fuzzy.

There were purple after-images still flickering in her eyes.

She smelled ozone coming off of her hair-tendrils.

It was an improvement over the other smells all around her. Dark and cold it might be, but this place smelled worse than a cess-pit that had caught on fire after a distillery exploded and fell into it.

She was certain about that. It had been her that had set the thing on fire in the first place. She never intended for it crash through three floors into the nightsoil collectory below.

That had been bad. funny, but bad.

G-nok wik wik wik pop-lop-ud zig...

Leeja spotted the group of Pit Nibblers just as Bujilli noticed her...



Roll for Initiative...

Synchronocitor Status: Cheerfully recharging as it hums to tiself.

Observe, Attack, Get Back togther, Something Else?
Bujilli and Leeja both needs to roll a d20 for Initiative. then we need to decide what they will do next. Do you want them to sneak about and reconnect with one another first, or should they attack the Pit Nibblers? Should they avoid the degenerate little things? Would it better for Bujilli to attempt to signal or contact Leeja somehow before things get all noisy and violent? Got a better suggestion? Let's hear it--You Decide!


Roll Another 1d6 for a Wandering Monster...
Purely just in case we end up in a situation where another check might be appropriate. so if someone would be so kind as to roll 1d6 and let me know the result that would be great. If you want to get some idea of what is prowling around out there take a look at the Wandering Monster Table just for this place. Oh and we need 3d4 rolled to tell us how many Pit Nibblers are in the area and you can look up the entry for Pit Nibblers if you are curious.

What Should They Do Next?

You Decide!

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Thursday, July 23, 2015

August is Web Serial Writing Month


August is Web Serial Writing Month and we will have some special bonus Bujilli-related content in addition to the regularly scheduled episodes every Thursday. More details to follow...

Bujilli: Episode 137 (Rapunzel Overdrive)

Previously...
Rust and debris swirled and splashed down in a riotous torrent right at Bujilli...

Crackling, sizzling ripples of orange dust spread out from the center-mass of what had only moments before been a gargantuan metallicized insect.

Ripples grew into wave upon wave of rust, dust and ichor and dwindling remnants of chitinous stuff. One after another. Each one spreading out farther. Washing across the rubble and wreckage. Rapidly growing into a crashing, smashing tidal wave of corrosion looming over Bujilli and Leeja as they looked on from their precarious little ledge.

Bujilli raised the Synchronocitor in an attempt to ward off the worst of the rust.

The Synchronocitor flickered and shimmered with violet flames. Bujilli commanded it so protect them both. The violet flames surged all around them both, forming a Zone of Protection.*

The mound of rubble beneath them shifted. groaned, began to wobble to the left under the impact of the rust, dust and debris flowing and frothing about the place.

The Synchronocitor's Zone of  Protection was not going to be enough.

Leeja grabbed him around the waist and used her lashing, flashing white tendril-hair to lift them higher, up out of the way of the onrushing rust and towards some part of the mound that might be somewhat more stable.

It was a valiant effort.

She struggled for every yard they covered. Sweat glistened across her skin as she exerted herself like never before. Leeja closed her eyes and focused entirely on her hair and getting them up and away from the mess caused by Bujilli's runaway spell.

Jagged fragments of stone and metal provided plenty of places to gab onto. She avoided the worst of the tangled masses of barbed wire or anything that gave way too quickly when she came into contact with it--having grown up in Aman Utal, she was very well aware of the sorts of things that might lurk amidst the jumbled rubble or disguise itself as a clump of rocks and the like.

The the bulk of the rust struck the mound full on.

Metallic screams filled the air. The entire mound shifted. Orange flakes sprayed over everything. Debris flew everywhere.

The mound began to teeter backwards. they'd never reach the top now and if they did, it would be a very bad place to be when the whole thing fell over into the backwash of rust.

Leeja realized that her hair alone would not be enough to get them out of harm's way. It was strong enough, just not long enough, nor could she move them both fast enough. She needed something else. A spell? She did not know Levitation, not yet. In fact she only knew a few spells. Most of what she knew were perceptual manipulation things. Lesser beguilements, discerning surface thoughts, that sort of thing. The sort of spells her mother had passed on to her more through a form of osmosis than outright instruction; things that came easily to them both because of their nature.

Her nature.

For a large part of her life she had rebelled against her true nature.

Niobe, her sister had mocked her for it.

She had struggled to fit in with the others, to be something they could accept. But no one ever really had. Not until she met Bujilli.

He had accepted her as she was. He knew she had something monstrous in her heritage. He'd accepted her anyhow.

That meant a lot to her.

She wasn't going to let them both die now just because she was afraid of becoming more like her mother.

Her mother's folk were highly intuitive, very empathic...but not in the sense most others thought of that capability. They didn't just 'read' emotions or cloud people's minds, they could reach in and manipulate, twist and even remove things.

She reached into Bujilli's mind. He was open to her. He trusted her.

The Levitate spell was easy to find. Even easier to trigger.

Both screamed in agony as the spell exploded into effect and they were borne upwards into the cold, dark night...


* See the post on the Synchronocitor for more details.

Meanwhile...
Mak-Ait-Akh**, Makait as the spindly apelings insisted on calling him, scanned the horizon. All around him spread a lurid red landscape. Desolate, barren, deadly; he was expected to die miserably out in the wastes surrounding Ylgreve when he had been expelled. That conniving little liar Jamildra had wasted no time in getting him black-listed and banished in retribution for his so-called betrayal. Never mind the fact that he had carried her back from her disastrous debacle of an expedition beneath Zormur's Palace. She was upset all the more since he had deliberately left behind her precious ancestor-possessed scimitar. Let her go get it for herself. He had declared when the solicitors had interrogated him at her behest. If they hadn't already accepted her bribes they might even have agreed, but the winds of political skullduggery were even more whimsical and wild than the winds of war and he she had gotten her way, for the most part. He had gotten exiled from Ylgreve. Banned and barred and banished, just as she had demanded; right before she was set with the geas to recover the blade she had allowed to be left lying in some ruined place through her incompetence. Because he had been black-listed, she could not call upon Makait for assistance. The memory of her spluttering impotent rage amused him. Even now after all these long weeks and longer miles trekking through the Kalaramar Drifts...


(**Now we know something of what happened after Episode 13...)



Waking up in the darkness with blood running down his lip was nothing new to Bujilli; but doing so while being suspended nearly a hundred feet in the air by a spell he didn't recall casting was a new twist.

He shook himself. Spells. His head ached horribly. He tightened his grip on the Synchronocitor. There was a Levitation spell in effect. It felt very similar to the one he tended to use...but it had been subtly altered, empowered, overcast in a way that ought to have fried his brain to a cinder. Except it hadn't. Instead the spell had bulged outwards, distorted by what appeared to be some seriously inexpert casting. It had been cast from within him, from his repertoire, using his mind and his knowledge, the patterns residing within his brain. But how?

Bujilli sat up. This took effort. He ached all over. His singed hair reeked and would need to be trimmed, again. At least the bloody nose had stopped. He felt like warmed-over wermscheiss, but at least he was alive. Nothing dead hurt this much, from the texts he had read growing up.

Down below the rust surged and sloshed and was settling down into a sort of lake of flakes.

They had escaped the worst of the crashing wave and the cloud of abrasive dust that had followed.

The synchronocitor gleamed with violet light that shimmered and shivered and flowed outward from the staff-like device in a dozen or more streamers that all led back to him. To his skull. His brain. For a moment it reminded him of Leeja's writhing and wriggling hair, only this was violet light that was seeping into his brain.

His Levitation spell hovered before him like some abstract defense against imaginative intrusions.

It had been his spell.

But he did not cast it.

He had been involved, of course, but it had not been his idea.

The spell had not spontaneously cast itself. He knew because he checked. that was how he knew it had been his spell and that it had been cast from within his skull and should have burnt his brain to a cinder at least. But it didn't happen that way. Instead the spell had jumped like a spark from one pole to another in some galvanic demonstration. It had connected with the Synchronocitor and somehow went into a resonant feed-back loop with the Zone of Protection.

This had over-charged the spell and very likely saved their lives.

The Synchronocitor was softly singing to itself in a creepy little child's voice. some sort of nonsense ditty in excessively inflected Franzikaner dialect.

Out on the horizon Bujilli spotted what looked like some sort of city or castle or fortress. Whatever it was, it had towers, spires, domes and lights. Either torches or street-lights; he wasn't sure which, but either one indicated an active presence of some sort of people in the place. Whoever lived there, whatever the place was called, it could offer them shelter, maybe even food and drink.

His hand brushed against Leeja.

She was very, very still.

Cold.

"NO!"

Bujilli reached out to his partner. Golden filaments of light spread outwards from his hand, sinking deep into her flesh, down into her bones, awakening whatever it was that lurked inside her, whatever parallel to his Counsel that had imprinted itself upon her back in Wermspittle at Idvard's old place.***

Whatever it was, if it was some duplicate form of the Counsel etched into his bones by some ancient machine, or something else; it was not enough.

He willed his energy through those golden threads of light and into her form. All his vitality, his will, his vrillic essence. There had to be some way to help his friend, his partner.

The Synchronocitor stopped singing. He could feel it observing him, but he didn't pay it any attention. Everything he had, all that made him who and what he was boiled through his body and soul to flow through tiny golden threads that linked him to Leeja.

He called on all his allies and guides and whatever spirits or things might help him set things right.

Lightning flashed and roared overhead. The rain resumed, only harder and mingled with hail now.

He struggled with every last bit of his strength and personal power.

His nose began to bleed again.

Violet sparks snapped and crackled all around him.

It wasn't enough.

With an inarticulate howl of rage Bujilli seized upon the spell vibrating all around them, the Synchronocitor, the Counsel-things scintillating between and within them both, and something happened.

Something wonderful. Something terrible.

Bujilli awoke in a dark place...



*** See Episode 39 for details.

Roll for Initiative...

and a couple of Saving Throws as well...


Synchronocitor Status: Somewhere between curious and bored, while recharging itself.

Roll Saving Throws!
Bujilli needs to roll a 11 or higher on 1d20.
Leeja needs to roll a 6 or better on another 1d20.
Both are suffering from a -2 penalty at the moment.

Should both of them succeed, then they will be together when they wake up. If one or both of them fail, then they are separated when they wake up. You decide!

In this instance the Saving Throw pertains to both damaging effects and displacement. Speaking of Displacement Effects, you can check out our old table for those HERE. You can read more about Saving Throws on Pages 54-55 of the Labyrinth Lord book.

Will it Leave any (more) Scars?
We need to determine how long Bujilli and Leeja have both been incapacitated (both times). If someone would be so kind as to roll 1d6 for each of them, we'll know how many hours they spent suspended over the rust lake. Another roll of 1d20 will tell us how many hours Bujilli was out of it before waking up in the dark this second time.

We can then roll for Initiative for each of them normally.
1d20 each. If Leeja gets the Initiative, we'll determine her situation first, depending on the rsult of the Saving throw above.

We'll need a few d6 and d20 rolls, and actually a d10 or d12 roll would also be pretty handy as well, since now we need to determine where they are, what the prevailing conditions are, and all sorts of fun things like that.

Then we need to decide the top three priorities for Bujilli and Leeja. Should they try to figure out where they are first, or look for one another?  If they find each other early on, should they explore this dark place, or try to get out, or attempt to sort out what just happened between them?

Whatever happens next; You Decide!

And of course, it's Time to Roll 1d6 for a Wandering Monster.
Please roll 1d6 and let me know the result. If you get a 1, the encounter is an environmental factor. A result of 6 will mean we need to roll on the new Wandering Monster Table I'll be posting tomorrow to determine what might be prowling around out there in the darkness...

What Should They Do Next?

You Decide!

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