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[In and Out] Mountain Festival (2.4)
[!rw]
The diff is done running when you wake up. Some lines of code are the same between the most recent and the penultimate versions, but many are different. There are no deletions, just additions of from between one and five characters per line modified, commented out. The list of additions looks like this (although much, much longer):
R14F0083L3: //'T
R14F0083L4: //w
R14F0083L9: //a
R14F0084L27: //s b
R14F0084L328: //rilli
R14F0087L2214: //g, a
R14F0089L13: //nd th
R14F0097L646: //e sli
R14F0103L1: //thy
R14F0103L952: //toves
I'm sure you can see where this is going, so I'll just give you the whole thing below:
'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.
"Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!"
He took his vorpal sword in hand;
Long time the manxome foe he sought—
So rested he by the Tumtum tree
And stood awhile in thought.
And, as in uffish thought he stood,
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
And burbled as it came!
One, two! One, two! And through and through
The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
He left it dead, and with its head
He went galumphing back.
"And hast thou slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!"
He chortled in his joy.
'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.
Comments
Reggie shows up right on time, greeting you with a deep kiss despite Jake's presence on the sofa. He snorts.
She greets Jake a little more traditionally. "Hey, there!" She turns her attention back to you. "I'm starving, haven't eaten since breakfast. I was looking at apartments. Next time, I'm bringing you with me. Real Estate agents are tricksy, it's best to outnumber and outflank them, I think. So, pizza?" She gives you another kiss, a quick one this time, before you have time to answer.
"Tandy was our secret weapon. She's a fiend on those Apartment Seeker deals. I'm sure we can find something near school and not too far from here." I head to the kitchen and pull out a veggie pie and a cheese pie, both warm, still in boxes. "Tandy, food's ready! "
We'll eat at our little table, a cute round deal that Jake and Tandy got off their grandma.
Tandy comes out of her bedroom dressed in Saturday-lounging sweats, her hair in pigtails. "I've been trying to get ready for a buying trip with Francesca next week. Never thought I'd say this, but I am tired of looking at pictures of dresses." She flops into a chair and grabs a slice of veggie to put on a plate. Tandy eats her pizza with a knife and a fork.
"Thanks for the pizza, bro. Great to have a friend with deep pockets." He chuckles, but it is usually Jake that buys the pizza. He goes for the veggie too, and a plate, but no silverware.
"Oh pizza. I love you so." Cheese for her, and she just folds it in half and starts chowing down.
You eat and chat happily for a while. Tell me, Trev, who is it that gets a big gob of sauce on their shirt before all is said and done? And who laughs the loudest?
Watching Reggie, I suddenly have a moment where I wish I was a cheese pizza. Heh.
I nod to Jake, happy I could treat. This place is a nice little local joint, owned by some second-generation Italian-Americans. They sometimes have tirimisu, "when granma feels like it". Today's one of the lucky days! I have a few slices in the fridge, as a surprise for Reggie and Tandy.
The big glob of sauce is me. Of course. I laugh it off, and Tandy nearly pees herself because it fell on the right side of my chest. She said it was my "bloody nipple". I have no idea where she got that, or why it's so funny.
I laugh it off, and well, it's pizze sauce, so I strip off my shirt and go spray it, then head into my room to grab another. I think I'll wear my Bioware shirt. It's so retro.
You walk back in in your clean shirt. Tandy has finally stopped laughing, but she has a distinctly impish look in her face. When you sit and dig back in to the pie, she turns to Reggie and asks gravely, "Reggie? Do you like pickles?" Her eyes are big and innocent and very interested in Reggie's answer.
Do you intervene before Reggie answers, Trev? She's puzzled enough by the question to pause for a second, chewing slowly.
Why would I intervene with this amusing inside joke? I'm sure she loves the dill. I can't help but grin a little.
"I love pickles! There's this Polish deli a couple blocks from my apartment that has these jars of dill pickles that are, seriously, the size of my forearm! I can barely even take a bite."
Have you ever seen someone actually fall off their chair and roll on the floor laughing their ass off? Regardless, you have now. Jake is bewildered by the setup, but clearly gets the penis humor part right away. Reggie blushes, but doesn't seem to be upset.
"I guess I walked into that." She picks up a new piece of pizza, folds it, and takes the first several inches into her mouth before biting down, her eyes locked on yours.
And she has a great sense of humor. I laugh with her. She's awesome.
"Sorry about that, Reggie. It's a thing from the dance." I take a bite of my pizza. I wonder, is eating pizza erotic for her? I think almost everything she does is hot, so it totally is for me.
Jake says, "I apologize for my sister, Reggie. You're a champ, though. If you didn't already know this, you're gonna fit in just fine here."
For her part, Tandy, once she manages to get back to her feet, walks around to Reggie's chair, squeezes her shoulders from behind, and gives her a little kiss on the top of the head. "You're the tops, Reg."
It's not long after that when the pizzas are down to a few crusts (Tandy) and a small pile of green peppers (Reggie, after you scarfed the last piece of cheese). No one's anxious to move on to the rest of the night, but it seems there's a bit of a lull.
What's next, Trev? Up to you if you want to stretch out roomie time before you head to TSol land. Have a topic or activity to suggest?
I pay careful attention to Reggie's reaction to the Tandy kiss. You know, just curious.
As we're sitting around in a post-pizza gorging haze, I look over at Jake, "Yo, Jake. How'd the date with Margie go? You guys have a good time? Maybe something there?"
"Aw, man, you know I don't like to kiss and tell."
"So, there was kissing?"
Jake sighs. "Okay, fine. It went great. Went to The Cellar for dinner and some jazz, then clubbed around a little. Went home early. To her place. Anything else?"
"This is Margaret, the bartender? She seemed really cool. Glad you had fun, Jake!"
Oh hot damn. I look to Tandy, like this conversation didn't take place. "Tandy, did you notice that Jake didn't come home the other night? I think I mentioned that, right?" I smile wide, then reach over and pay his shoulder, "That's great, man. I thought you two would hit it off."
I look over at Reggie, "By the by, Margie also likes pickles. We're in a pickle-positive place here."
Reggie looks at you very seriously. "Trevian, do you like pickles?" Jake and Tandy are almost holding their breaths, waiting for your answer.
Trying to keep that same pleasant tone, "I certainly like my pickle." I grin, "I've heard it's not too bad. Have you heard this, Reggie?"
That sense of suspension, of zooming in on a volley in a tennis match, holds.
Reggie ponders the question. "Well, from what I've heard, it's not the size of my forearm..." She squints up her eyes like she's thinking. "But word on the street says it is really tasty. That's the rumor, anyway."
Tandy starts giggling, and Jake gets a big grin.
"Trevian, are we talking about your penis? That was supposed to stop after summer camp in the eighth grade, remember? We had a deal."
I did not expect that callback. I grin at Jake and hold up a hand, "Actually, man, Reggie and I were talking about my penis. You just jumped on the pickle wagon. This one's on you." I crack up, this is too funny to be uncomfortable.
I stand up, "But I'll pay the fee for the penis talk. Is it still a pack of Pokemon cards or has their been some inflation?" I glance over at Reggie and Tandy, "Notice how I didn't ask if there was growth in the fee? Or if it "got bigger"?"
Reggie snorts, and Tandy shakes her head, still giggling.
"The fee is now one growler of the Dunkel Lager from Top of the Hill."
"Well, all this pickle-talk has been very educational, but Trev and I have some questing to do. Are you ready, Trev?" She takes a sip of her iced tea, not in a rush, but ready to go.
I bow with a little flourish, "I am ever so ready to quest with my lady elf." I bow to Tandy, "Please excuse me, milady." I duck my head to Jake, "Please pardon my exit, good sir who I owe a growler."
When Reggie stands, I offer her my arm to lead her to my room. I consider a crack about questing for "a pickle cart", but I let it go. I'm pretty excited to get down to business on this quest.
With smiles all around, you get to your room and set up Reggie's gear.
"Did you get anything from the data on Eve's hard drive?"
She's meticulous as she plugs things in, making sure everything's clean and checking cords.
"Yeah, the diff is a code. Jabberwocky. I think we might need a vorpal sword, or something that goes snicker snack." I watch her work, checking all my stuff, too. I was able to clean up my room with the new gear, didn't have to string wires all over and jank up the place. "This... is going to be awesome, Reggie. Playing in the same room as you. I'm really excited."
For a moment, I just soak it in, then comment, "You know they probably think we're just having sex in here." I chuckle.
Without a pause, Reggie starts in with, "OH GOD TREV, YES, PUT YOUR PICKLE RIGHT THERE! YES! YES! YES!" Then she finishes setting up with a Mona Lisa smile on her face. "Do you have the new content loaded, or you need to do that first?"
She's talking to herself as she waits for your answer. "'Twas brillig and the slithy toves did gyre and gimble in the wabe. All mimsy..." She fades out, but you have the sense that she has the whole thing memorized.
Oh man, this girl is a prize. I chuckle at her pseudo-sexual screams. I mention lightly, "I am not opposed to that kind of celebration later, mind you."
She quotes Jabberwocky and I just grin. "You are full of surprises, Reggie. Just full." I plug in my gear and start the log in process, "I have the new content loaded. You wanna jump in?"
You're standing at the top of a foothill, looking out on a view of the mountains. A trail stretches behind you.
"So pretty, don't you think?" You feel her hand taking yours, and for the first time, you're able to imagine what it would feel like without the glove. She turns you both around, and you see a village down the slope, in the distance. "It's called Hickory."
It feels great, holding her hand and being here. "It looks amazing. So peaceful." I look over at her and pull her hand gently, "C'mon, let's go down there.."
You make your way down the forested pathway toward the distant village. The ambient sounds of the woods surround you, leaves rustling and the thock of falling acorns, the calls of birds and the busyness of squirrels. Then, in the far distance, you hear an eerie call that stills all the nearby wildlife. Joooooob... joooooob. In that moment, a cloud passes between you and the sun, its shadow darkening the path. Seconds later, all is back to what it was.
You reach the village of Hickory, bustling with NPC life. Urchins run circles around you, a baker hawks his wares from a cart near the fountain, women draw water from the well. There are a few well-marked shops and any number of directions to wonder, but you don't see anything highlighted in your view, or any floating question marks. What catches your eye, Abaddon, where do you head first?
This is rather peaceful setting, almost tranquil. There's a wonderful rural aspect to the place, not unlike the area where Eve grew up. When we enter Hickory, I look around. My eyes are drawn to, of all things, the well. I point it out to Jace, "Hey, I wonder if that's a wishing well or something?" I'll head over.
It is... something. There's an old lady with a tray of herbs and spices standing near the lip of the well. "Offerings for the imp of the well, mister, missus?" Her tray has several choices listed.
Lavender: 2gp
Dilliwad Blossoms: 4 gp
TumTum Bark: 5 gp
Snark Root: 10 gp
Sylvianbruno Leaves: 20 gp
I come up to the old lady, politely ask, "I'll take some TumTum Bark, please." I'll hand over enough gold for two. One for me, one for her.
"Jace, c'mere. Look, Tum Tum Bark." I show her. "For the imp of the well."
"Well, let's make the offering, then, Abby." She reaches out her hand to take the Tum Tum bark, then crumbles it and drops it into the well, waits for you to do the same.
Once you do, there's a momentary shiver in the haptics. You look around and the herb woman is gone. The rest of the NPCs are still there, but they seem different. Lean, skinny, attenuated, however you want to describe it. And they all have little floating question marks over their heads. More than a dozen of them, all told. You hear that call again in the distance. Jooob... jooob
"Ah ha, now we're cooking with gas." I scan them, looking for a weapons vendor or someone who might draw my eye. I'm here for a vorpal sword.
Any of them look like Eve?
None of the NPCs look like Eve. Most of them, with the floating question marks, turn to face you and start to say, in not-quite unison, "Help us! Help us!" There is no weapon-vendor in sight, but there is a shop marked Blades Sharpened.
What do you do?
"Jace, I'm heading into this shop. Let me know if you find any quests of note." I'll head straight for Blades Sharpened. Sounds like a bad brothel name.
Jace nods and turns toward the closest NPC with a quest indicator.
As you enter the shop, you hear the sharp, regular skree of a metal blade against a spinning grinding stone. Sitting at the stone is an aged gnome, wearing brass-and-leather goggles to protect his eyes, and a scarred leather apron. To the right, there is a counter with a selection of used knives of the practical sort, for cooking and hunting and eating with.
The gnome stops pumping the pedals of the wheel, and it starts slowing down. He puts the knife he was working on aside, stands and flips up the goggles. "Well, stranger, ain't seen your like around here afore! What is it ye'll be a-needin' today?"
I duck my head in greeting, look around at his stock. "I'm searching for a vorpal sword. Can you help me, sir?"
The shopkeep screws up his face in thought. "Vorpal, you say? Don't rightly know about 'vorpal,' but if it's a special sword ye're a-lookin' after, I heared folks sayin' how ol' Big Man Jack kilt seven at a whack. Seems purty special t'me!" He starts laughing, showing a mouthful of crooked teeth.
"Any blades for me t'sharpen while ye're here, stranger? I do the finest work in these mountains, anyone'll tell ya."
I laugh with him, playing nice. These villagers are more colorful than the regular game. I'll hand over my twin short swords, "Can you work on these, sir? They're my pride and joy. I'd love to see them sharper."
"Where could I find Big Man Jack?" I stand near the counter, putting some gold on it to show I'm happy to pay for the services, hinting I'll pay for info, too.
The gnome's eyes widen and he whistles low. "Them's some fine blades, mister. I'll be a-givin' 'em my best touch." As he moves back to the pedal-stone and begins to wet it with oil from a spouted can, he answers your question. "Reckon Jack's t'home, up in Nacker's Cove. You'll find it by follerin' the crick where ol' Igbo has his sigogglin' spring-house, all t'way up to where it comes out o' the mountain, then takin' the ridge line east a bit. Watch out fer the Jub-Jub, mind, and if'n ya see a bandersnatch den, steer ye right clear."
He spins the wheel up and deftly applies the first of your twin blades to its surface. Sparks fly as he works the edge slowly along the stone. He works quickly and with certainty, and in minutes both of your swords have been ground. He hones them with a hand-stone, and then buffs them with a chamois.
"There y'are. Better'n new, I warrant." As you take them back, you note that they have gained a new enchantment. "Sharpness +1" will last for the next 100 swings.
The door opens and Jace walks in, just as the gnome gives you some change from the gold you left on the counter.
"Good sir, please sharpen my questmate's blades as well." I get Jace to hand over her daggers.
While we're waiting, I ask Jace, "Found out about an interesting thing or two. You see any good quests out there?"
Your partner hands over her daggers, and the gnome takes them over to the wheel.
"Just the one. All of them were basically the same thing. A family member stolen by a 'haint' called... I'll give you one guess what it's called."
"The Jabberwock?"
"Got it in one. The people seem to think it's somewhere in the Tulgey Wood, unsurprisingly." She wanders over to the case and looks at the assortment of implements. "I think this is going to be fun, Abby! I love Lewis Carroll." You feel a hand come to rest on your thigh, and suddenly remember that Reggie's sitting next to you.
When the gnome brings her the daggers, he refuses payment. "Such a lovely thing as yerself, I cain't accept no coin!"
Jace frowns a bit. "Well then, you'll have to sell me that little eating dagger, with the honeybee on the hilt." He complies. When she rejoins you near the door, the gnome says, "Y'all take it right careful, hear? Don't get yerselves in no trouble ye cain't get outta."
The sensation of her touching my knee is a trip. That's a first. It's pretty cool, but weird.
Her good mood tickles me. "Want to go see Big Man Jack first, or save the stolen people and fight the Jabberwock?"
"Well, if there's any chance we'll need a special blade to take out the Jabberwock, seems like we might want to pay a call on Jack, right? Did you get directions?"
Seems like the village square is back to the way it was when you arrived. A brace of little red squirrels chase each other across the open square and up a tree while a young halfling girl watches, clapping her hands with delight. A woman is singing a little song about the ribbons in her hawker's tray.
What do you do?
I recite the log (I transcoded his speech, "He's up in Nacker's Cove. You'll find it by follerin' the crick where ol' Igbo has his sigogglin' spring-house, all t'way up to where it comes out o' the mountain, then takin' the ridge line east a bit. Watch out fer the Jub-Jub, mind, and if'n ya see a bandersnatch den, steer ye right clear." I'll start looking for a creek.
There's no creek in evidence, here in town. You did pass a couple on the way down the path, but there's no way to tell which one has Igbo's spring-house on it.
Jace turns to the ribbon-seller. "Excuse me, can you tell us which creek leads to Igbo's place?"
The woman turns. "That'll be the first'un ye come ta, long 'bout a half-mile up the trail. Off t'the right as ye're a-walkin' up."
Jace smiles and grabs your hand. Anything else before you leave town?
I reach out to grab her hand in real life, if I can manage it. If not, that's cool.
"If you're a Lewis Carroll fan, did you start off reading Alice in Wonderland?"
You notice that Jace/Reggie isn't making the distinction of keeping "OOC" talk on the chat channel any longer, at least while it's just you two. "Funny thing about that. I somehow got to like ten years old without encountering Alice in Wonderland. But... that year, one of mom's friends gave me a copy of a book called Lewis Carroll's Games and Puzzles for my birthday. I loved it! I devoured everything I could after that, even Sylvie and Bruno."
Your hand finds hers, and she squeezes back. Just ahead to the right, you see a creek meandering briefly parallel to the path.
There's no lag when she talks, but it's weird. Jace's voice and Reggie's voice are talking simultaneously. It's like she's doing her own voice over. "I've only read Alice in Wonderland and Jabberwocky. Is Sylvie and Bruno not his best? What's it about? We're walking up the path that runs along the creek, I'm looking for a spring-house.
"Sylvie and Bruno is two stories in parallel. One's a fairytale, like Alice, and the other's sort of Dickens-lite, takes place in Carroll's own time. It's pretty convoluted, but a lot of it's fun."
You see a rickety shed-like building leaning over the creek ahead, with a sign that says 'TRESPASSRS'LL BE KILT' leaning up against it. You're definitely following the right creek.
I give a head nod towards the "spring house", then check the sun so we can head east along the ridge line. "That's neat. Sort of like us. We exist here, and IRL." I squeeze her hand one last time and let go. "Let's keep ears out for the Jub-Jub."
Funny, but just as you say that, making your way upstream along the overgrown path, you hear that Jooooob Jooooob! cry again, much closer this time, and then this creature tears its way down through the canopy of birch and maple and oak.
It looks hungry. And probably angry. And definitely dangerous.
What do you do?
I charge forward, swords out. I'm not a straight-line fighter, but I need to keep this bird off Jace so she can support me.
(Rolled: 1d20+11. Rolls: 16. Total: 27)
Damage (if I hit)
(Rolled: 1d8+2. Rolls: 6. Total: 8)
no Fray Die.
Jace raises her arms and chants in a voice suddenly laden with gravel. Clouds gather overhead, beneath the canopy of the trees, and three bolts of lightning shoot forth at the great bird, singing it and causing its shrieks to grow loud with surprise and pain.
Seven Small Thunders
1st Bolt: (Rolled: 1d6+1. Rolls: 3. Total: 4)
2nd Bolt: (Rolled: 1d6+1. Rolls: 5. Total: 6)
3rd Bolt: (Rolled: 1d6+1. Rolls: 2. Total: 3)
The creature is wild with pain, and clearly nearly finished. It lurches back into the air and strikes out at you wildly with one talon, then the other, and finally stretches out its neck to attempt to tear at you with its beak.
Left Claw: (Rolled: 1d20+7+4. Rolls: 3. Total: 10)
Damage: (Rolled: 1d8. Rolls: 5. Total: 5)
Right Claw: (Rolled: 1d20+7+4. Rolls: 19. Total: 26)
Damage: (Rolled: 1d8. Rolls: 1. Total: 1)
Beak: (Rolled: 1d20+7+4. Rolls: 20. Total: 27)
Damage: (Rolled: 1d10. Rolls: 5. Total: 5)
That beak caught my right shoulder like a vise. The haptic sent enough sensation for me to suck in a breath. I grunt with the effort as I use my range to my best advantage and try to finish the damned bird off.
(Rolled: 1d20+11. Rolls: 10. Total: 21)
Damage (if I hit)
(Rolled: 1d8+2. Rolls: 2. Total: 4)
...and with that, eight feet of terror and claws and beak falls to the ground thrashing around your blades, which have pierced through the creature at your full extension. You almost fall with it, but keep your balance. A last screaming cry rings out, loud enough to hurt. JOOOOOOOOOB! JOOOOOO... And it is dead.
"You okay, Abby? Looked like it got you pretty good."
"It got in a lucky shot past my armor. I should've buffed. It isn't too bad, don't want to waste a healing on it. That thunder shot was awesome!"
Jace takes a little bow, then points at the dead bird. "The body's lootable." She acts on this, and is soon handing you a dozen feathers and the six talons that tried so hard to disembowel you a moment before. She looks farther up the creek. "Shall we?"
I chuckle when she reminds me to loot it. I stash the gear, and agree with her suggestion, "After you, ma'am." We'll continue on towards Nacker's Cove.
You follow the creek quite a ways up the mountain, walking through trees, with fallen leaves rustling at every step. Once you hear snoring that somehow manages to sound violent, and you carefully circle around what you can only assume is the den of a bandersnatch. The path ends, but it's simple enough to make your way along side the narrowing stream until you reach its source, burbling out of the rock wall of the mountain.
The ridge line stretches east and west. You follow it east as the gnome told you, and soon enough you can look down into a small enclosed valley with a comfortable looking cottage, smoke curling from its chimney. There is a field behind it laden with pumpkins, squash, and hearty greens, and a cow tied up to graze outside a small barn.
What there doesn't seem to be, though, is a path down to that house, nor an easy climb. Not that you see at the moment, anyway. What do you do?
Standing above the valley, I ask Jace, "Are you a small cottage in a valley kind of girl? Or do you prefer living in the big city?"
As she answers, I'll start looking for the first few hand holds. "Can you make the climb? I can go down there myself if not."
"I'm city born and bred, but I really liked our little trip out to scare the deer in the country."
When you offer to make the climb without her, Jace frowns. "There is no way you're going down there by yourself, boyo. If there's something to be seen, I'm going to see it, too!" She takes a look at the slope, then give you sly grin. "Race you down!" And she's off, climbing over the edge.
Let's make this an opposed check. Beat an 11 and you get down to the floor of the valley with no problem. Beat an 11 and beat Jace's result, and you get there first.
2d8 + DEX bonus (+2) + Perfect Balance (+1)
(Rolled: 2d8+3. Rolls: 5, 3. Total: 11)
POTENTIAL CHEATING DETECTED. If it appears that dice were rolled in this post, they may need to be disregarded as fabricated.
(Rolled: 2d8+7. Rolls: 6, 5. Total: 18)
I chuckle as she picks her way down. I move in quick bursts, like Assassin's Creed. This is the shit I built Abbadon to do, she is not gonna best me. "What do I get when I beat you?" I ask when we're still somewhat even.
Jace replies. "If you're nice about it, then you get the same thing you were going to get when we log off, anyway. If you choose to taunt me, you get nothing." You're quickly pulling away, and both of you make your way to the floor of the valley, Jace about twenty seconds behind. "So, taunting, or no taunting?" But she gives you a quick kiss, and you feel a hand squeeze your thigh.
I give her a serious bow, "My lady elf, that was a most excellent climb. I am honored to serve at your side."
"Sir, for that pretty bit of lying, thou shalt be well and truly laid, ere evening ends." As you make your way to the house, you finally encounter a bit of a cart track, which you can now see leads to a small saddleback pass on the far side of the valley. As you step onto it and walk the last few yards, Jace says, "Well, at least now we know how the cow got here."
I snicker. I wasn't lying, she is the best partner I've ever had in TSol. "I was hoping for a flying cow. You know, the moon jumping variety?" I'll head down to knock on his front door.
There's a sign out front, scrawled in uneven letters. "JACKS PLAYSE."
When you knock, the door opens, and out steps... Jack?
"Well, hey there, strangers! What kin ol' Jack do ya fer?"
I incline my head, "Hi Jack. I'm Abbadon, and this is my questmate Jace. A Jabberwock has stolen some of the villagers, and we're looking for something to defeat it. Can you help us?"
Jack peers at you. "Y'sure ye want ta go chasin' after the Jabberwock? It's a right mean beast. And so ugly it's like ta make yer hairs turn white!" He laughs at himself. "Reckon the only thing I got's any good for fightin' things is da's ol' sword, what's a bit rusty now. He was an adventurer like you, 'till he took an arrow in the eye."
From somewhere in the cottage, you hear a high, unpleasant voice. "Big man Jack, killed seven at a whack!"
"Could we borrow your father's sword? Or trade for it?"
"Jack, we've heard that before, that you dispatched seven foes with a single stroke. Was that with your father's sword?"
Jack runs his fingers through his already messy hair. "Well, some tales is true an' not true at the same time, ain't they?" He turns back into the cottage and rummages around in a chest. While he's back there, you hear the same voice again. "Clever Jack, traded his mother's cow fer magic beans!" You're pretty sure you also hear Jack stage-whisper, "Shut up, you stupid thing, I got me a cow now, ain't I?"
He comes back with a foot-soldier's short sword, dull and rusted with age, the leather wrapping the hilt half-gone, and holds it up for you to examine. "This here's the sword. Cain't rightly let you take it, kin I? Reckon it were my father's and I otter keep it."
I feel like this is a puzzle. If I kill Jack and take the sword, that seems like a bad play. If I trade for the sword, but it isn't what I need to kill the Jabberwock, then I'm dead and the mission fails. This seems like a one shot deal, not something you can re-spawn and re-try until you unlock it.
"Jack, tell me how you killed seven in one blow. I'd like to hear the tale."
"Whyn't y'all c'mon in an' sit fer a spell?" You see once inside that his furniture is rough-hewn and rustic, but it looks sturdy and comfortable. Once you sit, Jack busies himself with a coffee pot and fans up the embers in the cast-iron wood stove.
"This were a while ago now, mind, and it starts with this stupid thing." He points at a belt hanging from a hook on the wall. The buckle is carved into the shape of a face with an insipid grin. "Or, sorta. T'last buckle on that belt done broke, so I whittled me a new one, thought I'd make it friendly-like, so I gave it a face. Someways'r another, t'durn thing like ta woke up! Only it wouldn't be talkin' to me, fer company-like, only talked 'bout me, when folks was around ta hear." He fills a kettle from a small water barrel and puts it on the stove to heat.
"Anyways, long 'bout then, there was a chink in t'walls here, 'n I's havin' the durndest time tryin' ta find it. Wouldn'a been so bad, 'cept there's a yeller-jacket nest right outside in the eaves, an' they kept a-flyin' in an' stingin' me! One day, I'm sittin' right there at the table an' a whole passel of 'em come a-buzzin' around m'head. Seven a the lil' buggers lit down in fronta me, right in a row like, and I thought 'Jack, now here's your chance!' I grabbed t'closest thing t'hand, which's my father's ol' sword here, and WHACK! went the flat o'the sword, and SQUISH! went all seven a them devils. Cleaned up the mess an' was done with it, until next day I take me inta town an' that ol' belt buckle starts spoutin' out, 'Big Man Jack, kilt seven at a whack,' and didn't they believe the durned thing? Started a whole bushel-load a trouble for ol' Jack, let me tell you. 'Jack, there's a bar needs killin'!' 'Jack, there's a wildcat a-takin' Betty-Jean's cattle!'"
"Finally I just hid me out here fer a while, 'til the ruckus died down. But you say they're still a-talkin' about it..." He shakes his head despairingly.
"Like I said, Da's sword's all I got, an' I don't reckon it'll do ya no good 'gainst that ol' Jabberwock. Ain't I heared tell ya need a... whatsit, vorpal sword fer that?"
I sit and listen to Jack's story. It's like the fable. I actually remember it as an ancient Disney cartoon with Mickey Mouse in Jack's role. This feels like a dead end, but I can't help wondering if Eve is telling us something. "Jack, maybe it has a different name here. Do you know of a weapon that goes snicker-snack?"
"Oh, no, Da called it vorpal, alright, when he tol' me the story back when I was half-growed. An' it is s'posed t'go snick-snack like ya say. This ain't it though. Way he telled it, it's in a cave up t'the toppa the biggest mountain, guarded by sommit near's fierce as t'Jabberwock itself."
Ah, there we are. Now that makes sense. "Ah. then that's where we need to go. We're going to kill the Jabberwock." I stand up, start for the door. "Thanks for your hospitality, Jack. Is there anything else we need to know?"
Jack replies, "Nothin' 'ceptin' that yer right welcome t'stop by anytime. Long as you don't ask me ta kill a bar." As you leave, you hear the belt call from the wall. "Wise ol' Jack sent the adventurers on a quest!"
As you make your way up the path on the far side of the little cove, Jace says, "That was kinda cute! I thought it was a dead-end there for a sec, but I was hoping Eve wouldn't do that to us."
The tallest peak seems distant, but you make good time once you find something that could pass for a road if you squint. Soon enough you're making the approach to a large cave entrance. The cave is dark and quiet, and you can only see a few feet into the dimness.
As we get closer, I find myself dropping into a crouch, whispering, "Hang back. I'll need you as support, but, no offense, I'm better at sneaking than you."
"That makes sense. Lead on, MacDuff." She pulls a wand from her belt and readies it. "Fourteen charges left. If you need me, be ready to dive aside when I call out."
I nod agreement, but the scarf hides my grin. I like it when she talks tough. I'll sneak ahead, into the cave. I should be able to see well enough. If it gets too dark, I'll let Jace catch up with me.
Actually, I'm thinking this could be a big fight. Before I go in, I'm going to use my potion of poison to coat my blades. It's a one shot, but it packs a whallop.
Abaddon, you've been in dark places, many much tighter than this. Why don't you give me a roll against a static difficulty of 11, to make your way through the cave system to where the Vorpal blade and its guardian wait, without calling attention to yourself?
(Rolled: 2d8+3. Rolls: 1, 7. Total: 11)
You make your way deeper into the cave, trusting in the full range of your sensorium to guide you, and trusting Jace to follow. Finally, you see a large cavern, dimly lit by the glow from a crystalline statue sitting atop something that looks like a stone coffin.
The statue looks like an ogre, and its dim glow is ruddy in hue.
What do you do?
I'll head to.the coffin, checking for traps, of course.
As you creep closer, you realize that the "statue" squatting atop the coffin is not a statue at all. The life-sized likeness of an ogre shifts its weight slowly and gradually, clearly alive even if not flesh. The crimson light washes through the crystal as if it were blood pulsing from the pumping of a slow, slow heart.
Jace says over the chat channel, "I'm at the entrance to the cavern, eyes on the statue thing, but you're too sneaky for me to see. Standing by."
What do you do?
Over chat, which feels weird since she's right here. "It's mobile, Reggie. Standing over a coffin. You want to fire on it and draw it's aggro? I can open the coffin, and if it keeps pursuing you, I'll come backstab it to death."
"Got it." You feel a squeeze on your thigh, then a searing cone of light lances across the dark cavern.
Wand of Piercing Light
No roll to hit.
Damage: (Rolled: 5d6. Rolls: 4, 5, 3, 6, 1. Total: 19)
Monster Roll to Save for Half Damage: (Rolled: 2d8+1. Rolls: 4, 7. Total: 12)
The not-statue howls and lunges up, staggering in the direction from which the light that hurt it originated. Given its crystalline form, it moves surprisingly quickly toward Jace. "Running. Have fun!"
No time to waste. I'm checking for traps, and if it's clear, I open the coffin.
A quick check reveals no traps, but the lid of the stone coffin refuses to slide aside, no matter how you try to budge it. There is a keyhole, however.
Meanwhile:
The statue is making headway on Jace, who is running in the dark. It will catch up in one more action, and since she's running headlong away, it will have the first attack.
Over chat, "Do you see a key on that big boy, Reggie? This coffin won't budge without one." I'm looking around in the dim light. Forget it, I'm lighting a torch.
You light the torch. Nothing on the ground.
"Oh. He's caught up. Gonna try and hurt him some. And yes, he has a key. It's actually one of his fingers. Crap, he's got the jump."
Crystal Guardian
Blade (+8): (Rolled: 1d20+8+8. Rolls: 14. Total: 22)
Damage if hit: (Rolled: 1d10. Rolls: 1. Total: 1)
Fist (+8): (Rolled: 1d20+8+8. Rolls: 15. Total: 23)
Damage if hit: (Rolled: 1d8. Rolls: 3. Total: 3)
Jace's Response
Fray Die (applies to all creatures): (Rolled: 1d4. Rolls: 3. Total: 3)
Wand of Piercing Light: (Rolled: 5d6. Rolls: 5, 5, 1, 5, 3. Total: 19)
(Rolled: 2d8+8+1. Rolls: 3, 1. Total: 12)
I'll head over to look for a backstab opportunity.
As it happens, there is no opportunity for a backstab. Just before you reach the cavern entrance, another brilliant flash of light bursts through and you hear a clatter like a falling crystal chandelier. A few steps in, and you see Jace bending over the body of the monster. She straightens and beams at you, holding out a large crystal key.
"Yessss!"
You make your way back to the coffin and insert the key into the hole. It turns easily, and the lid slides aside with a grinding rasp. Inside is a single short sword, its blade engraved with a filigree of patterns modelled after poisonous plants. The hilt is carved from ebony, and gleams darkly in the dim light of your torch.
Vorpal Sword +2 (+4 vs. Jabberwocks)
Goes 'Snicker-Snack'
Damage 1d8+2, additional +2 against Jabberwocks