Showing posts with label Series 1. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Series 1. Show all posts

Saturday, December 14, 2013

Bujilli: Series One Summary & Episode Guide


Series One, Bujilli's Sojourn, originally ran from Episode 1 to Episode 19. It began life at our Zalchis blog, then was transferred over here to Hereticwerks in January 2012, at the urging of Porky. Thanks for believing in Bujilli, and for convincing us to bring him over to this blog so his adventures could continue!


A Quick Summary of Series One
Series One took place primarily amid the ruins of the Air-Lord Zormur's Palace, on the other side of the world Bujilli knew as his own. Unwanted and unappreciated, Bujilli was a dreamer of sorts, despite his maternal uncle's best effort to beat it out of him. He grew up scurrying through deep, dark places in search of shiny-bits and useful loot for his unscrupulous and conniving uncle. When he grew too big to squeeze past some of the deeper crevices, Bujilli was forced to taunt and kill centipedes as a dangler; they either tied a rope to his ankles or strapped him into a basket and then dropped it down a hole where centipedes had been spotted. He got good at it. Despite his uncle trying to get him killed in order to cheat him of his inheritance.

It was an unhappy childhood with few friends and scarce any bright spots. But growing up in a sorcerer's yurt did have some advantages. Despite a mishap in casting a spell that was well beyond his capabilities. In spite of the cruel schemes of a demonness in a cage. Night after night Bujilli studied and learned and read, read, read. He knew he had to leave. But didn't know how. Then, after his uncle accidentally severed the cable hauling him back up from a particularly deep pit Bujilli discovered the Gem of Muktra. It was not just a glowing green gem. It whispered to the young misfit. Taught him things. Told him of a way to escape. And so the die was cast and Bujilli set off on his sojourn.

In the course of Bujilli's adventures beneath Zormur's Palace he encountered a number of weird and fantastic creatures including an ancient Miasmagaster, Dream-Snails, a Thing That Watches, a nasty old Muck-Raker, some mercenaries from one of the Wandering Cities of the Kalaramar Drifts, a Zurian Princess, and some sort of disembodied brain in a shell. Then he discovered and reactivated a Transveyance Mechanism that inscribed some sort of intelligent thing into his bones, what it termed his 'Counsel,' and sent him to Wermspittle in response to his request to go where he could learn the things he needed to know.


There are a couple of short stories from Bujilli's early days, prior to Episode One currently in-the-works. We'll provide more details once those become available. All the Episodes in Series One are also being revised, edited and compiled into a pdf and possible one or two other formats, as well as print version that will be available soon. There will be some bonus features in the Series One Compilation...


Series One: Episode by Episode

Bj1  Bj2  BJ3  Bj4  Bj5  BJ6  Bj7  Bj8  Bj9  Bj10  Bj11  Bj12  Bj13  Bj14  Bj15  Bj16  Bj17  Bj18  Bj19 (Bj1.5)


...introduces us to Bujilli, an outcast half-almas who has been raised by his abusive and manipulative uncle, an Almas sorcerer whose yurt is packed with strange things and weird treasures from a myriad of exotic places. Bujilli has spent the last year preparing himself for his escape. The time has finally come. He's run away in search of adventures and answers. Oh, and he's not alone; Bujilli has found the Gem of Muktra and it whispers to him of a far off place called Zalchis and it tells him about a device called the Synchronocitor and how it can take him to another world. It teaches him spells. It urges him onward. It is not his friend.


Episode 1.5 was a brief departure where we wrote a short piece of fiction that was exactly 100 words based on the prompt at The Saturday Centus. That was fun. We may do it again.


Saw Bujilli entering the ruins beneath Zormur's Palace in search of the Synchronocitor. Using the Gloomlight Glyph Bujilli uncovers a hidden door that the Gem told him would be there. He uses a Knock spell to open the door. This causes a section of the wall covered in cold, damp plaster to collapse. Once the dust clears Bujilli renews the Gloomlight, draws his tulwar and enters the darkness.


Suddenly the floor collapsed out from under Bujilli. He manages to avoid falling while still holding onto his tulwar. A section of tree-limb salvaged from just outside the entry serves as a means to bridge the crumbling gap. But wait; the collapse of the wall has revealed another doorway. Which way should he go? The readers decided!


The newfound door proved too much to ignore. Bujilli investigated the doorway and considered using his Listen to Walls spell to learn more. Before he can cast his spell there is a loud crash followed by scratching noises. Movement. Something is coming toward him. Something that reeked terribly.


Bujilli meets the Miasmagaster. And not just any Miasmagaster, but an ancient, very venerable specimen who has been sealed-off from the outside world for a long, long time. Lonely and bored, the Miasmagaster challenged Bujilli to an unfriendly game of chess. The stakes were simple. Bujilli would be playing for his life.


Having won a night's respite, Bujilli is allowed to sleep, but instead he sits up practicing the various chess moves the Miasmagaster taught him. Disgusting, wet noises disturb his efforts and he casts Listen to Walls to find out what is happening. The Miasmagaster is giving birth to a swarm of spawnlings. A swarm of hungry spawnlings...Bujilli quickly confers with the walls, thanks to his spell, and prepares for the onslaught of the Misasmagaster spawnlings. He uses some of his climbing cord and a wine-skin to rig-up a container for one of the nasty little things. Then he casts a hastily revised and improvised version of Oneiric Bubble. He successfully captures one of the spawnlings.


We consulted the newly-revised map for the Ruins Below Zormur's Palace so that the readers could help Bujilli decide which way to go next.


Bujilli's revised spell collapsed into a deadly Vortex. It killed one of the hungry spawnlings hunting after him. He has another spawnling sealed within a wine-skin. Bujilli chooses to go North, away from the looming Vortex that seems to be exerting some sort of untoward influence upon him even at this distance.


Dream-Snails begin oozing out of the Oneiric Vortex behind him. Large. Vicious. Carnivorous. He could feel the Vortex affecting his perceptions. A quick bit of exploring gives Bujilli some idea of his situation. Casting Thought Wall helps Bujilli clear his head of the Oneiric Vortexes' insidious effects. He leaves the spawnlings and Dream-Snails to fight among themselves. Bujilli makes his escape, spots some weird glyphs and comes face-to-face with The Thing That Watches.


Starts out with Bujilli contemplating just what this Thing might be. He confirms for himself that this Thing is in fact sealed behind some extremely powerful wards. Not an immediate threat. Bujilli quickly dispatches a wounded Dream-Snail that had followed him into this chamber. He quickly examines the thing's carcass and takes samples that look like they might be potentially useful or valuable, as his uncle has taught him to do. Then Bujilli decides to ask the Gem of Muktra for some advice. It offers him directions to the Synchronocitor. After a fashion.


Bujilli finds out that one of his water-skins has been contaminated by Dream-Snail blood. The water is unsafe to drink. Probably. But it might be valuable. Unfortunately the stuff seemed to be affecting him somewhat. He determines to keep moving. Forwards. Onwards. Downwards. Just like the Gem advised him. Then something huge and heavy strikes the far wall with brutal force. He slips past a sorcerous portcullis in time to realize that the wriggling things in the muck covering the floor aren't any kind of eels. They're the tentacles of a Muck Raker.


Bujilli watches from behind the sorcerous portcullis as a band of mercenaries led by a Zurian Sorcerer-Princess fight the Muck-Raker he left behind. The battle is fierce, but ultimately doomed, as much for their ignorance concerning the fungal beast, as for the madness of their mistress. She was hunting after the Gem that Bujilli was carrying. The very Gem that led him here. She meant to take the Gem from him by any means necessary. Using his Ventriloquism spell Bujilli tells the last mercenary still standing how to fight the Muck-Raker, effectively turning his potential opponents against one another so he can make his escape.


Bujilli finds his escape cut short by another sorcerous portcullis. He decides to set an ambush for the Zurian Princess who is determined to track him down no matter what now that she knows he has the Gem. In one of the Little Brown Journals he stole from his uncle, Bujilli finds the spell Malign and Particular Suspension of Natural Law, a spell from Tsan Yian transcribed in Aklo. It costs him quite a bit to cast the spell, not having learned it properly. Losing the page with the spell from the Journal is the least of it. But the spell works. After its nature.


The Tsannic Spell nearly ends Bujilli's journey. As does another of the writhing fragments of the Muck-Raker. He has defeated the Zurian Princess Janildra. Her last surviving henchman carried her out of this place, back to her family to face the reckoning awaiting her. Bujilli eliminates the last vestiges of the Muck-Raker, only to find himself caught between the Thing That Watches and a possessed scimitar with designs upon his mind, body and soul...all the while the malevolent spell he unleashed from the Little Brown Journal is taking its toll upon him...


Bleeding. Exhausted. Bujilli uses his tulwar to slide the whispering scimitar toward the cloud of spores coming into the chamber. He has no desire to give the possessed blade a chance to take him over. He also realizes that he needs to get moving. So he does what needs to be done. He spends precious vitality to cast one more spell. Slips through the second sorcerous portcullis. Goes onward. Forward. Downward. Just like the Gem told him to do. The Gem. It is at this point that Bujilli begins to come to some very disturbing realizations about that whispering green Gem he has been carrying. Hiding it from his uncle. Listening to its whispers. No more. Bujilli leaves the Gem behind him.


Still bleeding, still exhausted, but free of the green Gem for the first time in years, Bujilli enters a dusty room past the portcullis. A flaccid, disembodied brain floating within a translucent shell hovers near the far wall. It seems inert, possibly asleep. Bujilli recognizes a pair of Transveyances, one on either side of the room. Hands shaking. Vision blurring. His nose-bleed growing worse. Bujilli finds a reasonably secure spot. Casts Oneiric bubble. Collapses.


Bujilli awakens from a nightmare. He has been poisoned by the contaminated water in his water-skin. Dream-Snail blood has seeped through his clothes and through gaps in his armor. The bleeding has stopped. For now. Weakened and severely depleted, Bujilli considers the Transveyances and the inert Fixed Gate in the room. This might be a way out of this place. But where would he go? For now, he re-casts Oneiric Bubble and goes back to sleep.


Bujilli awakens in darkness. An all too familiar experience. He takes stock of his situation. reviews his repertoire of spells to determine what might be the most helpful or useful ones to try out. He decides to modify the Protection from Aethyrial Intrusions spell, and use it to access the Transveyance. The spell works. He awakens the machine and they begin a dialogue that will change Bujilli's life in oh so many ways...


The Transveyance completes its analysis and offers Bujilli what information it can offer in regard to the Synchronocitor. but before he can access this information the Miasmagaster spawnlings begin to ooze past the portcullis. He has the machine send them away. He has the machine show him the current location of the Synchronocitor. That nearly overloads his brain. Bujilli reconsiders whether he should continue looking for the Synchronocitor any longer. Perhaps it wasn't the solution he was really looking for after all. His difficulty in sorting out the overwhelming amount of raw data that the Transveyance continues to bombard him with prompts the machine to assign Bujilli his own Counsel. A form of supplemental intelligence imprinted directly into his bones as part of what the Transveyance considers his Inheritance. The machine determines Bujilli to be human. Enough to warrant giving him the Counsel, which then suggests that he request an Atlas of the Known Gates, which the machine then installs within Bujilli's Counsel or perhaps his own brain. He can't really tell. Troubled by all the high technological weirdness surrounding him, Bujilli decides that he needs to learn more about how things work before going any farther. Ignorance can kill. Or worse. He asks the Transveyance to help him find a place where he can learn what he needs to know. It sends him to Wermspittle...



Series One
Bj1  Bj2  BJ3  Bj4  Bj5  BJ6  Bj7  Bj8  Bj9  Bj10  Bj11  Bj12  Bj13  Bj14  Bj15  Bj16  Bj17  Bj18  Bj19 (Bj1.5)


Introduction: The Story So Far...

Starting Page  |  Central Index


Bujilli's Spells | Little Brown Journals | Loot Tally | House Rules

Series One (Episodes 1-19): Quick Index  Episode Guide
Series Two (Episode 20-36): Quick Index  Episode Guide
Series Three (Episodes 37-49): Quick Index  Episode Guide
Series Four (Episodes 50-68): Quick Index  Episode Guide
Series Five (Episodes 69-Ongoing): Quick Index  Episode Guide

Thursday, October 18, 2012

Bujilli: Quick Index to Series One (Episodes 1-19)


“...a weird dungeon crawl meets 'choose your own adventure'-style play-by-blog.”


A Quick Introduction to Series One
Bujilli's Sojourn originally began as an experiment at our Zalchis blog. We had no idea of what we were getting ourselves into and just built it all as we went along. At least we did until there were some unfortunate 'technical difficulties,' and we took some time off to re-build and re-start from scratch. It was Porky who convinced us to resurrect Bujilli here at Hereticwerks, and we're very glad that we did. Series One ended with Bujilli entering Wermspittle and Series Two has continued every Thursday since then, with Bujilli getting into all kinds of trouble and adventures along the way. Who knows where Bujilli will wind up next...


Bujilli Series One: Beneath Zormur's Palace
Quick Index (Episodes 1-19)


Series Indexes
One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six


About Bujilli (What is This?) | Who is Bujilli? | How to Play

Bujilli's Spells | Little Brown Journals | Loot Tally | House Rules

Episode Guides
Series One (Episodes 1-19)
Series Two (Episode 20-36)
Series Three (Episodes 37-49)
Series Four (Episodes 50-68)
Series Five (Episodes 69-99)
Series Six(Episodes 100-ongoing)

Labyrinth Lord   |   Advanced Edition Companion

Thursday, March 29, 2012

Bujilli: Episode 19

There was no sense in trading one set of shackles for another. He wanted to be free. Once and for all. Free. Making his own decisions. Going his own way.
(From Episode 18)

Bujilli touched the glistening green metal(?) of the Transveyance. Not metal. It was smooth, slick, almost oily yet completely unreactive; the oils he felt were those on his own skin. He knew it without asking. The machine was designed and grown to endure for stretches of time for which Bujilli had no symbol, no label, no concept. He removed his hand. Wiped it absently on his vest.

ANALYSIS COMPILED
QUERY: SPECIFY MODE OF RECEPTION

"What?" Bujilli stepped back. "What are you asking?"


SSSSssssSSSsssssssssss. Plop.

There was something coming through the portcullis.

Something foul-smelling and all too familiar.

Miasmagaster.

Bujilli dropped into a crouch and moved away from the Transveyance. He spotted a pair of Miasmagaster spawnlings pushing their way through the translucent bars of the portcullis. They were pale gray, greasy-looking, even more than usual. He watched another one squeeze through.


Plop.

It lay there on the floor for a moment, breathing hard and covered in a sticky light blue ichor or sweat. The nauseous coloration he was more familiar with returned to the thing and it swayed back up on its wormy-haunches and took its bearings with whatever senses with which the thing was equipped.

The nasty things had somehow destabilized their physicality, gone out of phase with things enough to slip past the already phase-impaired portcullis. A handy trick. There were spells for that sort of thing, but so far Bujilli didn't know any of them. Maybe he could study the spawnling he had trapped in a water-skin--

Bujilli checked the tied-off water-skin. It was still tied-shut. The thing inside was still inert. Maybe these things couldn't use their little trick on organic materials. He'd heard of creatures who could not use spells around iron, so why not the other way around? Hmmm. It was a good thing to have acquired a sample for study. Later.

He considered his situation. What spell could he use to eliminate these nasty creatures? There was no way he intended to get close to them, nor to let them spew their toxic vapors at him. Then Bujilli had a thought; why not use them in an experiment? Hah.

"Machine. Can you transport these spawnlings away from here?"


QUERY: SPECIFY COORDINATES

"Hah!" Bujilli slapped the machine lightly. "Make them go away. Send them someplace where they won't be missed."


Pop. Pop-pop. Pop!

The spawnlings were gone. Only a slight distastefully fetid discoloration in the air remained.

"Very nice. Thank you Machine. Where did you send them?" He was beginning to like this machine very much.

A stream of numbers, letters and symbols streamed across his field of vision. It meant nothing to him. Less than nothing.

"Can you show me instead?"

His vision split neatly into two distinctly overlapping sets of images. There was the room with the machines, and there was a dismal swamp of oily black water beneath a hot, red sky streaked with ochre and pink bands. No. The sky wasn't streaked. Something very big up in the sky was banded. The sight frightened Bujilli, so he looked down at the steaming red wetlands. The miasmagaster spawnlings were swimming off away from this spot. They seemed to be right at home. suddenly one jerked under the water and was gone. Just a few ripples and bubbles. The rest scattered. A large mass of aerial fiungi floated by overhead, its shadow slithering over the grassy hummocks and bloated-looking bulgy-bits protruding from the scummy waters.

"Good. That seems an appropriate place for those stinky things. Thank you."

Bujilli considered the machine. He knew that he was playing with something far beyond his comprehension or understanding. It reminded him of all the fables he'd grown up being told by the elders of his mother's people, all those ambitious sorcerers who summoned-up Powers and Potencies beyond their ken, things that catered to their every whim knowing such a course of action would inevitably lead to their destruction. Or at least that was the moral of most of those stories.

"Can you show me where the Synchronocitor is? Where I might find it?"

An icy wasteland stretched out beneath a painfully bright mercury-gray sky -- Trees full of blue vegetable-ants and yellow-crested monkey-things grew overhead, their roots entwined around cables and other things too impossibly overgrown to tell just what they were -- Shimmering cool green and orange and purple lights swarmed beneath churning amber waves of some vast foam-flecked sea or ocean -- A broken black tower jutted out from a chunk of blasted rock, tumbling over a gargantuan whirlpool of -- Dunes of bitter gray powder choked the dry floors of hot canyons eroded from ancient craters whose jagged walls extended upwards past the very sky itself -- 

The images kept coming, faster and faster, overlapping, blurring. There were scores, hundreds, thousands of the things. And more. It was too much.

"Stop!" Bujilli gasped. He was asking too big a question. The answer was overwhelming. Maybe it was the wrong question.

This machine would answer his questions, but he would have to sort what meaning he could from the answers. He simply did not know enough to ask the right questions. But that in itself was useful knowledge.

He thought of the Synchronocitor. It was a device of sorts that would allow him to travel between countless worlds...so long as he knew how to use it and he didn't lose it--or have someone take it away from him. Bujilli had learned all about claim-jumpers and the sorts of competitors and rivals who'd just as soon follow him and try to steal whatever he found rather than risk their necks going down into the dark places on their own. Getting beat-up and robbed only got him a second beating and no supper when he finally got back home to his Uncle's yurt. It was a bitter lesson, but one that stayed with him.

"I don't even know if I should be looking for this Synchronocitor...it was what the Green Gem wanted me to do. I don't trust the Green Gem any more. Maybe this is not what I should be doing? I just don't know enough to make an informed decision..." Bujilli sagged down against the wall. For a moment he despaired. But only for a moment. He had been raised to never expect fairness from an inherently unjust universe. Everything had always been stacked against him from the moment of his birth. His Uncle considered him ill-starred, but the old wise-woman Yaneenya had told him long ago that the clouds and darkness in his life did not come from the stars, nor was his destiny something for his Uncle to decide. It was his own thing, and the stars could only offer assistance or withdraw it as part of their inscrutable game that they played with all mortals below them. The trick was to never count on them. Let the good come as it may, and never let the bad stop you.

The only sure cure for not knowing was to go find out.

Or to ask someone who already knows.

"Machine. Can you tell me about the Synchronocitor? Is there an alternative? Something better suited to myself, something that would allow me to travel without being dependent on some machine that could be taken away from me the first time I run across some thieves or cut-throats? Is there someplace safe that I can go and learn what I need to learn?" He rested his head on his knees. The skin on his back began to crawl. He disliked remaining in this place much longer. He sensed strange things moving about. Prowling on the very peripheries of his perceptions. This was a dangerous place to linger.


SUB-SET EXTRACTED FROM PREVIOUS ANALYSIS

QUERY: SPECIFY MODE OF RECEPTION

"I...don't know. I'm having trouble sorting all this out--"

QUERY: ASSISTANCE REQUIRED

"Yes. I could use some help--"


COUNSEL ASSIGNED

"What does--"

"Do you wish to travel?"

"Who--"

"I am your Counsel. I have been modeled directly from your memories--"

"You are a part of me?"

"Yes."

"And you are to help me?"

"Yes."

"Then what should I do?"

"Leave this place. It is unsafe. You did say you wanted to travel..."

"Yes. But to where? The machine can only send me to one place, then I am on my own, like the spawnlings..."

"Ah. The root of the conflict. The Transveyance cannot determine what would be 'safe' when in fact all situations and locations known to it carry a certain level of inherent risk on some level or another. Also, it senses your turmoil regarding the Synchronocitor. Perhaps we should consider why you want to go seek out such a thing in the first place. Why do you want the Synchronocitor, Bujilli?"

"I...that's just the thing. I don't know if I really want the Synchronocitor itself, or if I'd be better off pursuing something else."

"What does the Synchronocitor do that you want to do as well?"

"Travel. To be free--"

"Mobility does not automatically equate with liberty. You are conflating things a bit. There is a tremendous amount of unresolved emotional turmoil surrounding this notion of travel/escape/running away/adventure."

"I know that I'm conflicted--that's why I asked for help--"

"Of course. Might I make a suggestion?"

"Yes."

"Ask the Transveyance to give you an atlas. That way, no matter where you end up, you'll be able to find a gate, portal or node...so long as one is available from that location."

"A map?"

"Of sorts."

"Machine. Could you do this for me? Can you give me a map of all the places you know about and the ways connecting them all? And can you make it so that no one can take it away from me? Ever?"

COMMENCING APPLOAD INTEGRATION PROTOCOL

"That's not quite what I--"

"No. It's better."


APPLOAD INTEGRATION COMPLETE

"Thank you machine. This map you have given me; it will show me the ways between worlds?"

"Of course it will--"

"Good. Show me the nearest place I can go to learn more about traveling between the worlds. I require a teacher, someone who can instruct me in how to do this without getting killed by making a stupid mistake or overlooking something obvious to anyone skilled in this sort of thing."

"But--"

Bujilli saw a comfortable room, richly paneled in dark woods, where one could see some small section of the walls not obscured by piles, mounds and stacks of books, monographs, scrolls and such. A small fire flickered fitfully in the tile-faced fireplace. A man sat sipping brandy while examining a yellowish sheet of paper printed with all sorts of scandalous gossip and lies. The man looked up--

"Yes. I will go there. Now. Thank you machine."

"Are you certain--"

"Yes. I have decided. It is time to leave. Before anything else tries to eat me or worse."

The overlapping rugs were soft and yielding beneath his rough boots. Bujilli could smell the spicy scent of apples and nutmeg -- mulled cider -- coming from a sooty pot hanging just to the side of the fire.

"Who the blazes are you?!" demanded the whiskered man as he adjusted his patched robe and lurched up from his ratty old chair. It really was upholstered with stitched together rat-hides.

"I am Bujilli. I have come to you to learn how to travel between the worlds."

"But my boy, it looks like you already know how to do that!"

"No. Not really. I had help. Will you teach me?"

"Hmmmm. This is quite irregular. Very peculiar. But intriguing. You're not an assassin sent by my rivals; they'd never send an Almas to do what a crafty pair of Drilg could do in their sleep. Besides my defenses obviously don't see you as a threat. If anything that Jaladari trinket-peddler said was even close to honest, then the calm blue glow from this medallion implies that you speak the truth. So that's in your favor. Hurm. Hah! It might be interesting to at least hear your story. If I think that you have what it takes, then I'll give you my recommendation and we'll get you registered for the application process. Do you know any spells, or was your transition here the extent of your skills?"

"I...do know a few spells. Nothing extraordinary. Mostly things my uncle taught me." Bujilli quickly was on his guard in case the old man wanted to test him with a cheap-shot or some underhanded spell-fighter trick. 'I sense no hostility from the man,' whispered his Counsel.

"Very good. You have talent then. I've had far too many would-be students pester me for instruction in things they'll never be able to do because they lack the necessary foundational abilities. Can you fight, or at least defend yourself?"

"I was raised among my Mother's people, the Almas. My Uncle taught me to fight since I could walk." He pointedly adjusted his tulwar. It snicked slightly as he thumbed the hilt and made it ready for a fast-draw. Just in case.

"Excellent. I can't be bothered to waste my time on pacifists who'll only get skewered and ground into sausage their first time off campus. Yes. I think you'll do nicely. Very nicely." The old man re-adjusted his robe and looked Bujilli over a bit more thoroughly.

"So you will be my teacher?" Bujilli asked in a voice that brooked no obfuscation or equivocation. He wanted a straight answer. He did not like the idea of having wasted his one-way trip.

"Certainly. If you pass the Entrance Exams and qualify for a spot on this Spring's roster. You do have some money with you?"

"I have some. Not much. But I have things to trade."

"Hmmm. Yes? Such as?" the old man grew instantly business-like.

"Dreamsnail teeth, pieces of shell taken from the same Dreamsnails, rubbings of strange glyphs that I took inside some old ruins, things like that."

"My...yes; your specimens would be most welcome, most helpful to a couple of colleagues of mine. Though I think Hedrard will give you the better price, as Teratologists make better livings than Oneirists, generally. These rubbings you have them with you? Would you consent to letting me examine them?"

Bujilli hesitated. He was dealing blindly. But he had just taken a leap of faith into the unknown. He took off his pack and dug out the rubbings and handed them over to his prospective teacher.

'That is not wise...' cautioned his Counsel. "No, but it is a way to see if this old man can be trusted." he whispered back.

The old man spluttered. Coughed. His deeply creased face split into a great big grin.

"My boy," he reached out to shake Bujilli's hand, "Let me welcome you to Wermspittle. You're going to do very well here. Very well indeed. Or my name isn't Gnosiomandus."


Welcome to Wermspittle, Bujilli!

Now things get really interesting as we begin a new chapter.

Someone might want to roll a d20...how clean was Bujilli's transition?

Did anything cross-over with him?

Also, it'd be handy to have a set of 5 or 6 random D20 rolls on-hand for the start of Series Two!


Previous                                                       Next

Series Indexes
One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six


About Bujilli (What is This?) | Who is Bujilli? | How to Play

Bujilli's Spells | Little Brown Journals | Loot Tally | House Rules

Episode Guides
Series One (Episodes 1-19)
Series Two (Episode 20-36)
Series Three (Episodes 37-49)
Series Four (Episodes 50-68)
Series Five (Episodes 69-99)
Series Six(Episodes 100-ongoing)

Labyrinth Lord   |   Advanced Edition Companion

Thursday, March 22, 2012

Bujilli: Episode 18

Bujilli awoke to darkness. Cold. His breath puffed away in tendrils of vapor. Why was everything a dim shade of green?

He sat back up, back against the wall and checked for his tulwar and quickly checking the immediate surroundings, then himself, for some idea of what was happening.

A persistent hum filled the air. He could feel it in the wall. In his back. His bones. Teeth.

The brain floated inside its shell in-between him and the Transveyance on the far wall. It still seemed inert.

But the Transveyance on his right was ...awake?

Bujilli stood up. Stretched. His back was a little stiff, so he stretched-out a bit. The tulwar went back into its sheath. He gathered-up his gear. Reshouldered his pack. All the while keeping an eye on the Transveyance.

He felt reasonably good. His nose was mostly clear. He could breath well enough. No serious aches or pains. The Oneiric Bubble spell had proven itself very helpful. For a moment he contemplated going back and picking up the Green Gem.

No.

He had had enough of meddling spirits and animate objects with cryptic agendas.

He had left his Uncles' yurt to find his own way, across this world and unto another.

There was no sense in trading one set of shackles for another. He wanted to be free. Once and for all.

Free. Making his own decisions. Going his own way. What was going on with all that green light?

The green light seemed to be coming from the machine.

It seeped out from the machine in slow motion ripples. Leaking?

He could sense the power pulsing within the thing. It frightened him.

This was not something to just casually pound with a fist or poke with a stick.

Thankfully, Bujilli's training included a number of spells that might be useful. His Uncle would not teach him the usual attacks or traditional defenses expected of a sorcerer. He was not to waste his time fighting stinking Yeren over already gnawed bones; he was intended to find things of value, locate caches of loot-able things, and to determine the value of what he found. His Uncle wanted him to focus on getting into deep, old places, learning everything he could, and to come back with samples and information, not get embroiled in fights that didn't make a profit. Or so his Uncle claimed. Bujilli always suspected that the old bastard just didn't want to give him the chance to fight back or to stand up for himself any sooner than was necessary or unavoidable. It also made it easier for his Uncle to try and get him killed before he could become any sort of threat or challenge to his authority.

Bujilli barked hoarsely in disgust. Spat on the floor.

It was time to get to work.

Rubbing his calloused hand together, Bujilli walked over to the Transveyance and began to inspect it more closely. He refrained from touching anything. He followed the lines and contours of the thing and looked for clues as to what was going on. The rippling green light tickled. His hair began to stand up on-end.

He quickly took stock of his personal repertoire of spells. For a moment he considered the Fantomist spell for Speaking With the Dead, but that would run the risk of attracting discarnate entities and stir up the local ectosphere, which might not be in his best interests. There had been a lot of heavy fighting in this space in the past. The signs of it was everywhere. He could easily find himself surrounded by legions of the dead, hundreds of restless spirits. He didn't have the expertise to stand up to that sort of situation.

Instead Bujilli took a step back. Relaxed. Focused his concentration with a mantra and observed a particular patch of the floor until he could feel it, perceive it without contact. He closed his eyes and extended his perceptions towards the Transveyance. Delicately. Softly. He examined the object and observed it from within by virtue of faculties orders of magnitude beyond simple physical senses. He could feel the aethyric flows and deep, abiding presence of something that anchored the machine to this place, this time, this spot in a way that made his head hurt just trying to observe it. Perhaps he could re-write or revise the Protection from Aethyrial Intrusions spell, especially the inverse form of it, to somehow access this machine? He backed away slightly. But he could find no controls. Nothing that he could recognize as a means of getting the machine to do--

MECHANISM ACTIVE

Bujilli pulled his sorcerous perceptions back and closed his aura in preparation for subtle combat.

The Transveyance sat placidly against the wall. Green light continued to ripple outwards. Bujilli breathed out a lungful of mist.

Nothing.

He relaxed his guard enough to shift position and to attempt to re-establish some sort of--

UNRECOGNIZED USER:
ESTABLISH NEW USER PROFILE?

The voice, if it was a voice, calmly and clearly scrolled across Bujilli's perceptions. There was no threat. No malice. If anything it was completely neutral. Like snowmelt or the wind. It reminded him of the way that the Green Gem used to...

...no. It couldn't be.

Could it?

Bujilli considered what he thought he knew about the Green Gem. It spoke to him in his sleep, in his dreams, in his mind. Like this machine, this Transveyance was doing. He wasn't sure if this was a good thing or not.

PERMISSION REQUIRED TO PROCEED

Bujilli stared at the Transveyance.

It wanted something from him. It did not recognize him. Anything that could communicate and recognize other beings was something to take seriously. What could reach into his head, into his brain and mind could undoubtedly inflict a lot of damage or worse. There were things that would colonize and dominate other being's minds, make slaves of otherwise thinking people. He'd read of politicians and prophets in his Uncle's collection of books.

It was asking for permission. Real demons subverted such things--they only ever played games with such distinctions, mocking all convention or manipulating assumptions. Sorcerers rarely asked for permission...unless they were vassals of some Power of Potency. This machine was asking for his permission and it didn't even recognize him...but it could perceive him, communicate with him. He could go back and get advice from the Green Gem...it might know--

"Yes. I want to be a new user." He spoke before he even realized it.

INITIATING SCAN

Bujilli felt a peculiar moment of disorientation as the machine looked deeply into him. It examined him from within, as he had done to it, only far more thoroughly and much more rapidly.

Welcome Bujilli

"Uh...thank you...machine..." He croaked, not sure what to do next.

Your Profile is now stored within the system

"Huh. So now what?"

Please specify your chosen destination

"What?" His eyes went wide in surprise. Could it be that easy? That simple?

Bujilli shook his head. He made sure he was not dreaming.

"I...really do not know where to go..."

Specify Parameters for search

"Uh...um. Hmmm. Where do I want to go, now that I'm here?"

Query: Synchronocitor Retrieval

Bujilli gasped. Of course--the thing had read his mind. It knew why he had come here, originally. But did he still want to pursue his former quest? What was the point of seeking out a mechanism for traveling to other worlds when you didn't know anything about any other world but this one?

Query: Datasift Inload

"What are you asking? I wish I knew what to ask, what to do...where to go...

PERMISSION REQUIRED TO PROCEED

"But what is this 'inload'? why would you offer it to me?"

Images fluttered through Bujilli's consciousness like a cloud of butterflies. He saw funny lights. Some sort of liquid logic poured into his bones without breaking his skin. A gift. No. Not a gift--his inheritance? But from whom? He had no--Humanity? Was he then human enough to fool the machine? Halfblood and outcast, a mangy wantling abandoned by his parents, left to the Almas, to his Uncle...he rarely considered his human blood. It was rarely useful. Hardly anything to be proud of...it had gotten him beaten more than a few times growing up. Now this machine wanted permission to do something to him, to bond some other thing into him, make it part of him, because of his human-ness.

It was a very peculiar, even perplexing thing to consider. All his life he had defined himself as Almas or Half-Almas. Now his human-side mattered. Maybe it was worth something after all.

"I accept the 'Inload.' It will help me to learn? To gain knowledge?"

INITIATING PROCEDURE

Bujilli shivered. His stomach gurgled uncomfortably. His skin crawled slightly, no, not crawled, rather it swirled, rippled. Like the waves of light emanating from the Transveyance. Horrified but immobilized Bujilli watched as his flesh peeled away and a strange light danced upon his exposed bones. He thought he could almost feel millions of words cascading and tumbling down the light into his deepest levels of physical being. The light was telling his skeleton a story. Liquid stuff condensed upon his soul like dew in the morning light. Then it was over. It had started.

INTEGRATION COMPLETE

He sneezed. A few scabby-bits dislodged and spattered on the floor. He shook his head. His eyes were alight with something flowing like mercury. The effect subsided.

Bujilli smiled. He flexed his hands, made fists and relaxed the fingers. Cracked his neck. He felt good. Better than good. He carried power in his bones now, deep power that his Uncle would have killed to acquire. That he would certainly kill Bujilli to acquire, if it meant sucking the marrow from his bones. But it would do him no good. It was Bujilli's, no one else's. A legacy of godlike beings long gone onward and beyond. It wasn't the ability to throw lightning bolts or to burn down his enemies, nor was it anything destructive unless he were to make it so, and that would be a sad, stunting of the thing, unworthy and unsatisfying. A waste. No, he would not indulge in such a squandering of what had been left for posterity, kept in trust by the old machines, the last gesture of a people, a Civilization he never knew about or even dreamed of, that had come long before everything he had once taken for granted.

He knew better now.

He knew how to ask questions now.

Bujilli could ask or inquire about anything. Anywhere. Anywhen. Wherever he was, he could find out the stories imprinted on the walls, he could read nearly anything, communicate with things he never would have suspected as being conscious, let alone articulate or knowledgeable, before. Curiosity flowed through his mind like the winds of Spring, a freezing fire had seized upon his brain like an inferno of more and more questions. He wanted to learn everything. To go, to see, to experience. To know it all.

It was an exhilarating sensation.

Liberating.

Query: Course of Action

He laughed. No sooner was his ignorance peeled away, he was faced with decisions.

"Tell me; where is the Synchronocitor? Is it within your reach? What can you tell me about this thing?"

Bujilli smiled. The machines of his human ancestors had not given him any answers, but they had certainly given him the means to learn for himself, to find out things by personal experience in a way that his previous spells and tricks were as childish things. No. Not so much childish, as tools left in the hands of an untutored and ignorant child. He was not going to remain ignorant for much longer. It felt like stepping out into the sunlight after spending a long, long time deep underground.

The Transveyance could and would open the way for him to nearly anywhere beyond this world. But it would be a one-way trip and what good would that be? He'd be stuck. But if he were to find the Synchronocitor...then...then he might go anywhere and explore everywhere...

COMPILING ANALYSIS

Bujilli has unlocked the Transveyance and opened himself up to a much bigger, more complex and dynamic universe than he suspected existed previously.

The Transveyance is assembling a report based upon Bujilli's request for more information.

Are there questions he should ask before leaving?

Should he seek the Synchronocitor?

Or are there alternatives?

You Decide!

Hey--what was that sound?
There's something coming through the Portcullis!

Bujilli's Current Status:

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Series Indexes
One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six


About Bujilli (What is This?) | Who is Bujilli? | How to Play

Bujilli's Spells | Little Brown Journals | Loot Tally | House Rules

Episode Guides
Series One (Episodes 1-19)
Series Two (Episode 20-36)
Series Three (Episodes 37-49)
Series Four (Episodes 50-68)
Series Five (Episodes 69-99)
Series Six(Episodes 100-ongoing)

Labyrinth Lord   |   Advanced Edition Companion