The seasons marched onward.  The forest became drier, with rain less frequent, and less intense than in the past.  Still, the stream flowed with enough volume to keep the members of the clave sufficiently watered and clean that there was no cause for worry.  Yet.  The members of the small clave worked diligently to expand and secure their little hold in the wilds.  No strange noises in the night nor unexpected arrivals (Nizq excepted) marred the peace of this month.

Eventually dawned the morn of the arrival of the herds.  The crashing and bleating could be heard quite a while before they actually arrived.  Still, the sudden influx of so many quadrupeds seemed a bit of a shock when they poured through the southern gates and crowded within the walls an hour before noon, driven by a pair of loud seskiis with bright green collars around their flame-toned necks.

Carts pulled by a few yoked dossi and minded by adolescents followed behind, carrying any number of things under taut, battered tarps.

Buojrez will greet the newcomers and help with the unloading, directing goods to their proper places.

Mhari will oversee the unloading of the Defensive Turret... he will mark out a place where it can be centrally located to cover the walls around the Clave.  Depending upon how is sits on the ground... he will look to see if a cross pattern of tracks could be laid down in the Clave to move the turret to the cardinal points of the Clave from a central defensive position.

He could not prepare this ahead of time as he has no idea what the defensive turret was like how it was mounted or powered now that its here he will see if if can be places upon a track assembly to move it about if needed.  But that will have to be planned out and built.

So for now the turret will be centrally placed until such time as plans and resources required can be assess for the feasibility of a limited traverse track system.

"Hello! Hello! Welcome to the Clave!" Alberic cheerfully greets the new arrivals in what he takes to be a welcoming manner, but comes across more as a manic episode, frantically shaking hands and slapping backs. He will enthusiastically helps wth the unloading, until he spots Mhari setting up the automated turret, and immediately loses interest in everything else.

Wandering over, a plume of green peppermint smoke following in his wake, he immediately strikes up a conversation with Mhari - oblivious to whether his assistance is wanted or not. "Looks like you've got plans for this bad boy, eh?"

Mhari is in the process of reading any instructions that might have been sent with the high tech weapons array ~ trying to judge how heavy it is.

At Alberic's arrival at his side, he nods, "..yeah, trying to figure out if its possible place it on a mobile track system so it can be positioned either at the center of the compound or moved to the cardinal positions at the walls."

"Need to figure out how much it weighs, and if its power source is internal or must it be set up externally. Also how much bracing it will need so it doesn't knock itself over when firing..."

"Still reading..."

"But for now until we can even look for material to make a track system... it will stand in the center so it can for now cover the walls."

He looks around at the compound courtyard trying to figure if there is a grade to the surface.

"...maybe that new gravity controller, Nizq, can help in positioning the turret if his control is strong enough?"

Nizq is averse to doing any physical lifting himself, be to wants to help and be helpful, so he hovers around the carts as they're being unloaded, using his Pen-sized oddity that tells the weight of whatever he points it at, and tries to help direct the workers.

He also has his Define Down and Barrier abilities which he is happy to use if they can assist with unloading or setting up the turret. He could set Barriers as ramps to roll gear down off the wagons, or use Define Down to lift gear out and then gently settle it with a second use.

Nizq constantly asks questions of the cart teams while they are there; What is happening in Yenth? Did the diver of the cart carrying the turret speak directly with the Prelate? What exactly did the Prelate say to the driver? Are they returning directly to Yenth? Can they take Dan back to the Prelate if we all decide that's best? What kind of muscle and defenses do they have while on the road? Did they experience any trouble on the way here, and do they expect any on the way back? etc.

"Help position the turret? I'd be happy to. I can literally define which direction is down for a few seconds to move the turret, and then I should be able to catch it on a Barrier that will last for 10 minutes, whilst we rig it. Do you think that will help, Alberic? Mhari Stormbolt?"

Mhari smiles, "You can just call me 'Mhari'.  But thank you... if you please could you settle the turret here, but also can you estimate how heavy it seems? An accurate weight is not necessary, an estimate will do."

He positions the cart/wagon carrying the turret very close to the central location in the compound where he want to set up the turret. So all  Nizq must do it shift it to settle to the ground.

"Knowing some idea how heavy it is .. will tell me what manner of track system will need to be planned out to carry its weight on the track system we construct... eventually."

"Tracks?" Alberic is instantly enthusiastic, and immediately begins inspecting the base of the system, and looking at the ground. "Yes, I see what you mean. I've managed to lash up a gravity changer plate we could use to help move it, but I daresay Nizqt would do a better job than my jury-rigged contraption. Weighing it would be more complex, though if we could time it 'falling' under influenced gravity - assuming we knew what the gravitational strength was - then we could get a reasonable estimate of its weight..."

An older woman, dressed in practical clothes, tries to shout over the chaos.  "Where do you want the herds?  You can't mean to keep them in here.  We'd be hip-deep in dung within a week, to say nothing of the smell!"

It seems that many of the arrivals are children and adolescents, and the size of the cargo seems designed with their strength in mind.  Soon, cycles of young folk are seen ferrying goods from wagons into the the two cabins they've been directed to.

The turret itself is partially disassembled (for ease of transport and installation), but the pieces are still heavy enough that Nizq's abilities are much appreciated.  Assembly is uncomplicated (although several dossi do step on various human feet during the process, and more than one creature spends time curiously sniffing the metal).

Dan Cooper watches the tumult from the door of the large hall, but doesn't participate.  With the clave's ambivalence about him remaining, his wish to "be around more people" is carrying him toward Yenth at the earliest opportunity.  Someone explained what a Comprehension Graft is, and now he's bound and determined to find one.
This message was last edited by the GM at 15:35, Fri 27 Nov 2020.

In reply to Immortal Eye (msg # 9):



Once the Turret is in the process of being assembled... technical skills currently beyond Mhari's expertise he will make his way over to the practical older woman and Whistle loudly to get her attention, and shout back, "This Way.. follow me to the Barn and Grazing Fields with them!!"

He briefly closes his eyes to concentrate... and shortly a Shadow falls over him... as Z'DAKK, his blue-skinned winged 'Z' Drake companion gently glides in to flutter down within reach and he climbs onto his back ~ electric arcs flare briefly between the two of them as the the drake nuzzles him.

Then Mhari begins to roundup the 'cattle' and herd them toward the grazing fields with the mass of Z'DAKK and his occasional growls and light fluttering of his quad of wings... backed with the static spark of a electric shock to the get the rare stubborn herdbeast to move...

"Z'DAKK" {Zap}Z-Drake

_{{Z-Drakes look like this but are a uniform Azure blue, with four wings}}

Mhari himself will snatch up a whip or just a long farm implement to tap with the charged touch of a shock prod to further encourage the Herd to move toward the grazing fields and barn hands waiting them.

He will rely on on Z'DAKK's telepathic abilities to be as gentle as possible mindful not to start a stampede..as Z'DAKK can read the emotions of the herd as they work together in mental Rapport.
This message was last edited by the player at 16:17, Fri 27 Nov 2020.

Z'Dakk swoops in at Mhari's command, but the situation quickly diverges from the glaive's plan.

The z-drake seems undernourished, perhaps still recovering from the long flight here and unused to the habits of the local prey.  The dossi and yol are certainly not expecting a large predator to land in their midst, nor are their seskii "sheep dogs".

Even as the older shepherd screams, "What are you doing?!" at Mhari, as he approaches his mount, the z-drake is already slavering and beginning to snap at the nearest yols, while the seskii rush forward with snarls and sharp barks to defend their flocks.  Perhaps Z'Dakk believed he was being summoned to a buffet?

So close to the panic, Mhari, needs to avoid being trampled by the herd before he can act to ameliorate the situation.

OOC: please make a Speed defense roll of DC 5:15 or take 6 points of damage (before armor)

Mhari is clearly no farmhand and didn't consider that Z'DAKK is only 'mostly' an electrovore {feeds off electrical current}... BUT he still does eat meat on occasion.. as a predator!

When the herd begins to stampede.. Mhari is unworried ... until he notes in a split second Buojrez is looking the wrong direction and not seeing the spooked herd animals coming their way!

No time to shout a warning he throws his arms around her {unfortunately finding rather... immodest handholds} and his body flares with electrical power and instantly he and Buorjrez turn into a bolt of lightning as he Bolt Rides them both to Z'DAKK's back to get her out of harms way and also make physical contact with his companion's touch-telepathy... to get him to stop trying to feed...hopefully!

Z'DAKK is as intelligent as any human.. but his understanding of human society is... primitive at Best!

Suddenly appearing in a flash of lightning from the sky to the back of the Z-Drake Z'DAKK, Buojrez set before him in the saddle ~ his arms still wrapped around her... he quickly moved his hands to a more polite... if somewhat still spoon-close embrace, "Er.. {ahem}.. sorry Buojrez..."

Spend 4 INT, -2 Edge, Total: 2/ 13 {Action}

Then directing his thoughts to Z'DAKK through the Z-Drake's natural touch-telepathy, {~ 'Whao, big guy... didn't know you were hungry... these beasts are not for food!  I'll take you hunting for fresh meat if your hungry...but not these beasts!' ~}

13:19, Today: Mhari 'Stormbolt' rolled 14 using 1d20.  Control Z'DAKK, w/Effort. – 14-Effort: 3 INT, -2 Edge, TN DC3:9 w/Effort '6' Total: 3/ 13 AMAZING SUCCESS???
This message was last edited by the player at 02:46, Sat 28 Nov 2020.

Buojrez smiles. "Let's go somewhere safe so I can thrash you."

Mhari blinks... and then a lopsided grin dawns on his handsome features, and though his grip does not change or tighten... his touch feels... almost electric sending an excited anxiousness through her muscles.  It feels, unlike ANYTHING she has ever experienced.. direct neural-electrical stimulation... the light taste of electrolytes on her tongue and the fainted hint of ozone in air.

Grinning, "I have had some... naughty thoughts of you of late... guilty as charged.  Guess I have no choice but to surrender for punishment."

And then he gently pulls her close and whispers in her ear, ~'...don't be gentle.. I might become a repeat offender!'~
This message was last edited by the player at 21:35, Fri 27 Nov 2020.

"Oh by the tiny lights..." Zalbane says, reining herself back from bellowing something likely unforgivably loud and probably rude at Mhari's impetuous summoning of his unusual companion.  "Not right on top of the herds!"  She moves forward, now that Buojrez and Mhari are out of immediate trampling danger and hopefully finding some way of getting Z'dakk away from the beasts, and is ready to dazzle them with her control of light if any seem ready to stampede over someone or through the fence!

Buojrez looks at Mhari. "No, seriously, I am going to give you a beating. It seems you may never had one. Your face will look different, but perhaps more manly, with all the scars."

Mhari sighs.

The electric touch stops immediately, and he releases her.

"My apologies, a Gentleman and Man of Honor ~ Never makes a woman say No twice. No is NO."

Gone is the playful mirth in his tone and he is cool and professional again. He taps Z'DAKK... lightly and the Z-Drake calms.

"But I will decline your offer. I already have plenty of scars, just none that are obvious or evidence of big mistakes.  There are two types of Glaives in the world... those that are good at it.. and those who are not.  I make no apologies for being one of the best!"

Z'DAKK looks up turning his eyeless head to regard Mhari noticing perhaps the change of the electric current surrounding Mhari with curiosity.

"I'm taking Z'DAKK to fed and hunt... before he spooks the herd again.  You should dismount.  We can spar later if that is your only desire."
This message was last edited by the player at 18:05, Sat 28 Nov 2020.

Buojrez rolls her eyes with no feigning her disdain. "Put me down and seal your food hole."

Busy setting up the Mechanical Turret, and thinking about laying rails, Alberic completely misses the commotion. "Mmmm...? Just a minute..." He puffs on his pipe, deep in thought as he inspects the ground and the base of the turret, then, finally looks up and declares: "See, we could- oh. Er, did something happen?"

He wanders vaguely towards the commotion, without being any real help.

With the large predatory beast (and its rider) now out of the clave, the herds are easier to settle down and corral.

"Does that happen often, bringing great beasts into the middle of a crowd?  I don't see how that'll make things easier here.  And if that blue thing takes one of my seskii, well, that'll be the last you see of us and the flocks."

The woman seems to be made of steel (metaphorically) beneath the wrinkles around her eyes and mouth.  Her hands are calloused, the nails a bit dirty, even cut short as they are.  She surveys the clave with a bit of patience allowed by the returning calm.

"How shall we proceed?  I'd really like to get the animals to pasture, if possible.  We stopped for a drink at the stream before we came in."

Mustane speaks with the newcomers and leads the way to the fenced in area for the beasts to safely graze in.  They spend some time chatting about the fence, changes to the gates that might be needed, the barn, and other matters of practicality.

Most of the children, including the older ones, are working on unpacking and setting up in the cabins prepared for them.  One of the young ones, a curious girl who's been darting in and around every structure she can find, wonders aloud (and very loudy), "Where are we supposed to put the milk?"

Mhari takes Z'Dakk hunting for game, he seems to like hunting for fish in whatever small lake or streams he can sniff out.  Turning out ~ surprisingly to be a good aerial fisher diving toward bodies of water to snatch his prey from the water with his feet talons.

Mhari gets wet in the process but strapped into his saddle is unconcerned about being unseated... just enjoying the freedom of flight and the company of his large companion... slowly ..across the telepathic rapport he explains to Z'Dakk the difference between game and herd animals within the fenced in areas and barn environs of the new clave.  It takes some time to explain to him why one would keep herds of animals about for a resource and though Mhari is not sure Z'Dakk fully agrees he is assured that Z'Dakk knows the animals are like pets and are NOT prey to eat ...at least.

Though Z'Dakk is just as intelligent as most humans... his priorities are not always the same.  Fortunately, the winged electravore only needs to consume meat maybe once a week to fulfill his dietary needs mostly surviving on as an electrovore on electrical current... even the static potential between the clouds in the skies can be a tasty repast for the large blue quadra-winged beast.

So about a couple hours later Z'Dakk glides in to the clave fluttering gently to a landing outside the South gates to deposit Mhari for a brief nuzzling of the smiling glaive and giving an annoyed snort distaste for the farmers before taking flight to go soaring amoung the clouds again.. no longer interested in what the strange-two legs do with the smelly herd animals.

Mhari walks into the clave seeking some supper still on the endorphin high of flying with the electrovore... oblivious to the farmers frantic activity.
This message was last edited by the player at 02:45, Tue 08 Dec 2020.

"Milk?  I guess...  Ah bluescrn, is there extra synth or clay we can make into vessels for milk?  Let me go find Nalla; she'll know what resources we have for the dairy!" Zalbane says.  She'll seek out their organizer; and if Nalla doesn't have anything in mine, then Zalbane will go hunt through their supplies herself. Surely amongst everything they had formable synth, or someone who could make barrels, or some kind of clay, or even a cypher that could be of some use!

"Afraid I used all my construction foam on the walls here," Alberic looks up from his work. "but I have some Responsive Synth. Maybe I could fashion something out of that?"

The girl tugs on Alberic's long coat, seemingly unperturbed by his unusual appearance.  "But I'm thirsty now.  Momma said we could have milk when we got here."

"Milk? Er, right." Alberic looks around, slightly nonplussed, a cloud of overpoweringly banana-scented smoke drifting from his pipe. For the life of him, he can't actually remember what he's been eating and drinking at the clave. It wasn't the sort of thing that caught his attention. He finally looks down at the girl, and offers her what he imagines is a warm smile. "What, were you looking to get some from the herd?"

Mhari walks over seeing Alberic 'accosted' by the girl-child...

Smiling at them both, "Hey little lady, I can show you where the Galley we've all been feeding at... I'm sure they have some milk in their breakfast stores.  Come-on..."

He gestures for her to follow him to the make-shift galley the claves been using...

"Fine.  But if it's not yol milk, I'll spit it on you."  The child walks beside Mhari as he leads her to the community building, a structure that is quite multi-purpose at this point in the clave's history.

Mhari smiles and crouches to meet the little girl eye to eye, "You little one have the spirit of fire!  You would make a bold glaive! Come... let's see if I get a shower!" {chuckle}

Zalbane nods to Alberic.  "Quick then, let's go make some vessels for the milk.  Ak, we must have missed that section of plans from Nalla; we knew we were getting milk-bearing beasts!  It'll be all to the good once we have a dairy set up, though.  Cheese keeps for a good long while, and makes a good thing for travel food.  Please, those of you who are herders, can you draw me a picture of the best sort of vessel you'll need?"

Zalbane will tap into her own abilities to give her sculptor's hands to make the forming of vats and lids go quicker.

OOC: I already have training in using numenera, and I can use my flex skill for sculpting or something similar to give the herders the type of vessel they would find most useful.

"What do you do here, besides make people angry?" asks the girl of Mhari, as they cross the courtyard.  Mhari remembers, as she chatters away, that there has been no milk at the clave yet, that he's aware of.  There is some cheese still remaining from their last supply delivery, although he isn't sure what kind.

Zalbane begins sorting through the materials in the workshop and attached storage shed for things suitable for building storage vessels.  Between the wood, wire, plates, and resin, they should be able to make a few things to service for the short term at least.

Zalbane putters around with different kinds of materials for most of the day, making a couple large (and small) vessels for their impending dairy, giving the prototypes to those who will be making butter, cheese, or whatnot so they can give her feedback.  Food production was going to be what could keep people here, and Zalbane certainly hadn't curdled animal milk herself on purpose and wasn't certain how the whole arcane process happened...
This message was last edited by the player at 10:00, Mon 14 Dec 2020.

Alberic cheerfully assists Zalbane in the production of the vessels, happily regailing anyone who will listen with tales of his time with merchant caravans in the beyond. "Do you know, it's always good to stretch your skills with some mundane items. The Numenera are exciting, but sometimes they do half the work for you. It's a different skill to work clay and metal. Now, when I was out in the Ba-Adenu Forest, you really had to get hands-on and craft. Of course, the forest provided ample supplies of wood and..."

He drones on, oblivious to whether those around him are listening or not.

After a few hours of work (and some input from one of the shepherds who returns to clave to check on the younger ones), enough vessels are made to at least get a start on collecting and processing the milk.  Further jugs and such will likely be needed, but there is enough storage space to hold about two days worth of milk, if pressed.

Despite the precarious welcome, the newcomers seem fairly impressed with the work that's been done to prepare for them and accommodate them.  As the evening nears, the bleating and cowing of the livestock drifts over the walls of the clave.  There is fresh yol milk to go with supper, and the kids have even harvested a few scrips from the dossi, which are presented to Nalla for use in the workshops.

Mhari leads the little girl to the Galley with a smile, "Well, I mainly defend this clave from hostile attackers or threats... and I also distract precocious little girls from making a nuisance of themselves to those trying to get real work done.  Its a gift I guess."
This message was last edited by the player at 03:18, Thu 17 Dec 2020.

Zalbane, after her rather hasty switch to pot-maker, goes to join the newcomers over supper.  "I'll work on the other vessels you need over the next two days.  Hopefully we can get you set up well.  I'm Zalbane, by the way.  The bright lights on the perimeter are mine; that's a talent I picked up."  She doesn't mention yet that she was touched by the Iron Wind; it had put off people in the past, some had even considered her cursed and driven her away.  Once these newcomers had gotten to know her better, she could talk about her past.

"I do a little bit of everything, but I'm a good scout and often take the night watches.  I pick up things quickly, so if there's something you need done that no one else can do, I can certainly give it a go.  We've found some possible ruins or old encampments some hours' travel away, so I hope to get some of my fellows together once we get a breather and explore them more fully," Zalbane explains.  "So!  Who is everyone else?  Mhari you met, he's our warrior, Alberic is a good maker of things, and Nalla is our organizer."

Zalbane will listen to who all is who, trying to get a feel for those folks who had decided to make a go for it out here far from any clave.  They might be herders, but they had courage to trek all the way out here.

"And I'm Alberic, the resident Wright.  If you need something building or fixing - I'm your man!"Alberic follows Zalbane's lead, and does his best to be friendly towards the newcomers. <DarkBlue>"Doesn't need to be complex, though I can build a few smart cyphers, it must be said. I've knocked up some natty anti-gravity panels - a little unstable, but you have to start somewhere, eh? Mind you, I'm nearly half-machine myself these days. Some call me The Half-Consumed. Funny story that..."

The story is neither funny, nor especially interesting - save to those interested in the minutiae of the Iron Wind. Alberic's endless anecdotes and discursions about machines, and his experiences in the Beyond soon drive all but the most polite away to other conversations. He eventually resigns himself to using a few of the spot lasers in his arm to make a multi coloured display for the children, managing to etch rainbows and trees and even a few silhouettes of the Yol he had seen that day.

OOC: Impressive Display. Cost 3 Intellect - 3 Edge = 0. Not for any real reason except that he's terrible at conversation and wants people to like him. ;_;

Mhari will join his fellow Order of Truth Agents and listen closely to Alberic's tales fascinated.

He asks, "Anti-Gravity panels? I would love to see one of those demonstrated!"

As the evening moves on for the entertainment of the children Mhari will perform a series of martial katas with his swords spicing it up with trailing lighting and using his lighting swiftness in a truly spectacular display of skill, speed, grace and POWER!

Near the end he will at the edge of town call Z'DAKK to town to let people see him that he is NOT ferocious or interested in eating poeple.  Not sure if the parents will allow children near him but it will not be because Mhari made any attempt Not to let the locals know Z'DAKK will be around and is actually friendly and just as intelligent as any human.. just unfamiliar with our 'land-based' ways.

Mhari will also personally apologize to the Pol Herders about the mix up that day... explaining that Z'DAKK is now informed the Herds int he fenced in areas are not food but pets and he will not be attacking them anymore.  Though Mhari may purchase a head or two occasionally for Z'DAKK to feed on .. explaining he mostly consumes electricity.. but does occasionally need the proteins of meat.

OOC: Impressive Display - Cost 2 Might, 3effort - 1 Edge = 4 Total
07:17, Today: Mhari 'Stormbolt' rolled 6 using 1d20.  Spending Effort  - Impressive Display. – 6 - Level 3?
- Mhari is actively trying to settle any fears of Z-DAKK or himself for the honest blunder that morning.
This message was last edited by the player at 12:23, Thu 17 Dec 2020.

The oldest of the teenagers are brave enough to approach the flying beast, but the shepherds keep the small ones well back and maintain a wary eye.  The seskiis are with herds and don't provide an easy provocation.

The grown-ups are more appreciative of Alberic's display, although it only holds the kids' interest intermittently.  There are buildings to nose around it, strange leaves to collect, and the mystery of why they're all here in the first place, besides shepherding duties, of course.

"Prelate wouldn't tell us why here, you see.  It's in the middle of this blasted wood, no roads, not villages.  Why take the risk.  If it's that important, why not soldiers?"  The oldest of the shepherd women seems more relaxed now that the animals are safely in the pens and minded by her seskiis.  A full belly and a chance to cool her feet didn't hurt either.

Zalbane is not one for much entertaining, though her efforts were part of the entertainment regardless, as she provided the light for it (in any color desired).  When the question came of what they were all doing here, she took it upon herself to answer.

"Because there have been odd people appearing near the rift, over yonder," she says, waving a hand in the direction of the deep gouge in the earth.  "We met one ourselves, Dan is his name, and he seems to have crossed over from another world very different from ours.  He doesn't speak Truth, and has abilities here he hadn't had where he came from; phasing through objects.  He was quite confused, as would anyone who suddenly found themselves in a strange place with strange powers!  But he is going to Yenth to see if he can find a way home.  If the rift is bringing other people here from the same place, we want to find out why, if we can, and how we can help those who come here.  Also there is a great deal of resources out here that we can use to grow our new home.  Anyone who helps us build and grow and become better can become an important part of this place."
This message was last edited by the player at 11:01, Tue 22 Dec 2020.

"He didn't speak Truth when he arrived." Alberic adds, growing excited at the prospect of talking about the local mystery. "It's why we have a handy Translation pillar out front. You can talk to almost anyone with it. A remarkable piece of kit! And the phasing, well... probably a side effect of whatever brought him here. Now, there were those snake people who seemed pretty keen on getting hold of him, weren't there?" He goes on, oblivious to the fact that talk of snake people kidnappers is probably not the best topic of conversation for new arrivals. "Now, you took a trip with one of their cyphers? That rag thing? Very extra-dimensional..."

Buojrez wanders in the next morning, looking none the worse for wear. "Took the long way," she says with a shrug. "You can hear a lot by listening, and see a lot by looking."

The day of the shepherds' arrival ends quietly enough, and apart from some anxiety amidst the beasts as they accilimate to the new environs, there is little else of note during the night.

Daylight brings noise and meals and daily ablutions.  The days is sunny and cool.  The shepherds and their numerous spawn busy themselves with organizing the barn to their own specifications (which causes no small amount of stress for Nalla) and settling into their quarters.  They're already discussing additional building projects with Mustane, and the sawmill automaton continues its slow clearing of the forest.

What challenges will the leaders of the clave seek out this new day?

Zalbane catches the others when the arrive for breakfast, corralling them over a hot beverage and milk porridge.

"So, we've found a couple of places nearby that might be worth looking into, either for finding people or for finding resources.  Plus there's those tracks that criss-cross this area, the ones from some large thing like an automaton, that might be worth trying to track to where it has gone to see if that could be a threat or of some interest.  It'd be nice to know which one in case it decides to wander back this way.  So... checking out someplace close?  Or going on a more unknown adventure?  Anyone up for something like that for a few days?" she asks.

Mhari drinks his morning caff', sipping the hot dark drink in silence... until Zalbane mentions tracks criss-crossing the the area.

"I think those tracks bear investigating first.  If we are to have the freedom to fully investigate the ... oddities going on in this region we need first to make sure our community is safe from wandering threats while we are otherwise engaged in our investigations and research."

Buojrez taps her teeth with her spoon. "Resource seeking, I think. With more mouths to feed now would be good to make sure we can support them if weather turns bad or current supply is cut off."

"We never did get into the control room of that place where Dan arrived, and I would greatly like to take a proper look at it. It is probably at the heart of what we've veen sent to investigate." Alberic opines, blowing out a cloud of orange-scented smoke from his pipe. "But those tracks are a more immediate concern. If there are others in the area - of whatever form - it is better that we know of them..."

"The ruins I saw were about fifteen miles away, north-northeast, and I've found a route that'd take about half a day to get there.  There were some smaller tracks coming into and out of the place, but I wasn't sure exactly if it was scavenging animals, people, or something else.  Those big tracks are all over the place, some with taller plants growing, some with shorter, which makes me think we can figure out which tracks are most recent by which have the shortest plants.  While we're going to check the ruins, we can map the big tracks we see along the way and how 'old' they are compared to others we find.  How's that for a few days' outing?" Zalbane proposes.

Mhari nods, "That makes sense Zalbane.  Let's get going!"
This message was last edited by the player at 03:41, Tue 05 Jan 2021.

"Sounds good to me!" Alberic nods.

Mhari considers, "..do you Wrights happen to have the means to provide us all with some form or radio communication in the field?"

"No." Alberic shakes his head, sadly. I've heard of Telepathy implants, or Communication Disks that allow communication over remarkable distances - though I don't know how to make either. They would be very useful. Perhaps something to research in the future. But for myself, I think I am ready to go. A couple of days' rations should suffice, and I have the Eyebug we got from the Snake People. Should be handy for following tracks..."

"I will stay here so the clave is defended while you are out exploring," Buojrez says. She sets about readying herself and her weapons, as well as seeing to the state of the newcomers.

Mhari ponders, Alberic's answer... then asks, "Do you Wrights have a means of creating colored smoke then?  I'm only asking because a means if the Clave signaling us from long distance might be very useful to us to know if an emergency or and attack is made against it."

"And yes, it would be useful as at least two of us are never far from an instantaneous return to the Clave to help defend it or help deal with a crisis.  I'm uncertain the limits of how many I can transport while riding the lightning... but I know I could at least carry one other."

Zalbane thinks out loud, "I don't know about signaling during the day, but if we can get colored smoke, that is certainly an option.  For night, if we have a large, shiny surface they can get it up on the observation tower and then use one of the lights we have to signal us."

Mhari snaps his fingers, "That's it!  A reflective signal mirror will work just fine during the day as well! We could see that for miles! Great Idea!"

Alberic nods. "Excellent! A great thought, Zalbane! I guess we'll need to agree some sort of signals. Mhari, you obviously had some idea on what to communicate... just a distress signal? Or perhaps they should send an agreed all-clear signal at regular intervals. We might miss a lone distress signal. Do we need some means of answering? I'm afraid my pipe probably doesn't produce enough smoke for a signal. And the, er, colours are somewhat arbitrary." He gives rueful grin, as he taps his pipe, breathing out a cloud of purple, plum-scented smoke.

"One pattern for an 'all-is-well' done twice a day, and then one for 'trouble' should be enough.  And with a shiny shield or brestplate, we can signal back, assuming we can get high enough.  But I think between good climbing skills, rope, and perhaps a cypher or two, we should be able to get to a good vantage point!  We should do the signals at around the same time each day...  Hour after dawn, hour before sunset?  Unless someone has a pair of good timepieces, that should serve?" Zalbane says.

Mhari nods, "No need to worry over vantage points... with Z'Dakk I can fly to high enough altitudes to see any signal message at the appropriate times."

"Of course, perfect!  All right, let's get some camping gear and food for a week or so, just in case.  I doubt this will take much more than a few days, but why be overconfident?" Zalbane says.

As the trio of explorers is cinching up their packs and straps, the young girl comes jogging into the clave from the southern entrance.  She approaches Alberic and tugs on his long coat.  "You're going out in the forest, right?  Can you go that way, first?"  She points to the west.  "Magda said the seskiis are acting nervous from something over that way, that maybe they smelled something funny?  I thought I smelled smoke for a second."

"Of course!  We'll give it a sweep; hate for anything to happen to you or the beasts," Zalbane says.  "We'll give you a signal once we've checked it out, then head over to the ruins."

Buojrez will work with Nizq and Nalla to set up a schedule and to familiarize themselves with the turret.

"Sounds like a plan." Alberic declares, cheerfully, shouldering his pack and clamping his pipe between his teeth. He turns to Zalbane. "I guess we should go after Mhari, then, see what he's managed to scout out. Then on to the ruins!" He pats one of the pockets of his duster. "I'm keen to give that Eyebug we got from the Snakepeople a test out. A good opportunity to scout out the ruins from a distance."

And with that - assuming Zalbane is also ready to leave - he heads for the gates.

***After the foray party has left***

Nalla walks over to the new installation.  "They didn't return all of my tools.  And they probably didn't reassemble it correctly, either.  Sometimes these turrets can be finicky with their controls or targeting mechanisms."  She doesn't seem to be speaking to anyone in particular, but isn't being quiet about her anxiety, either.

Buojrez looks at Nalla pointedly.

"I find them distracted and well intentioned or self-absorbed and concerned with their standing and possessions. Nonetheless, we can fix this, working together. You will find me willing to listen and willing to work."

Buojrez will help Nalla find the tools and then work with her and Nizq to understand the manuals and their shortcomings so that the turret is ready as soon as possible. Anyone over the age of 13 with an interest will be allowed to assist so that some level of cross training exists.

A few of the smaller children take time to watch Nalla and Buojrez work, but the adolescents seem to have chores outside of the walls today and the shepherds are busy with their own work.  They do pass by on occasion and provide a hot meal later in the day, but mostly keep to their own business.  Mustane's hammer can be occasionally heard out by the barn, as well.

Nalla's work seems to focus more on the order and organization within the turret, and much of her fussing may even appear redundant or unnecessary.  Still at the end of many hours, the turret seems a bit more level and rolling easier on the tracks that criss-cross through the center of the walled space.  There are even some newly-installed handles on the device to make repositioning it much easier.

"I still need to work out the programming process.  Or a simpler process.  The series of inputs outlined here is ... exhausting," she says.

"I will take a look later, although reading technical instructions is really not...what I do. Maybe when Alberic and Zaldane return they can help. Mhari has shown himself to be a poor choice for thinking matters."

Buojrez will walk the walls and perimater to see if there are any spots where an approaching enemy might have cover from the turret and mark them for removal when helping hands return.

Most of the trees and brush have been cleared from the area around the clave, either for use as building materials or just for convenience.  There are a few rocky outcroppings to the north and south, maybe a hundred and fifty feet from the walls.  Those might be able to give cover to a handful of human-sized targets, but no more.  Still, the forest her is old and hardy, and there are trees towering around the gap in the canopy, some with branches extending nearly to the clave itself.  These seem to be deliberate decisions, based in the nuts that those flora produce.  The lowest of these branches is easily fifty feet above the forest floor.

Buojrez raises her concerns about medical supplies with the shepherds.  One looks slightly aghast.  The other just shakes her head in disappointment.  Both are willing to devote the children to this cause, at least for the afternoon.  The teenagers round up the smaller ones.  Mustane's litter is roped into the task as well.  They've been eager to explore a bit farther from the clave, and a group with older kids seems like the likeliest chance they'll get anytime soon.

As the group is packing lunches and collecting baskets and sacks, Buojrez feels a tugging at her boot.  The smallest child, a boy named Rennold, is looking up at her.  "You're coming, too, right?"

SMiling, Buojrez nods. "Of course. I might learn something."

She readies her armor and weapons and will take up the rear, the better to be able to spy any children to roam to far from the group.

The group of younglings toddles and scurries into the forest, largely heading to the southwest.  Given that half of them spend quite a lot of time corralling the other half, Buojrez has little difficulty keeping up or keeping track of them.

After about twenty minutes or so, the oldest two gather them all together, pair them up and provide instructions.

"You've all got your little bells, right? Ok, you two are going to look for dillia mushrooms.  They're green on top and smell like sour milk if you cut them.  If they smell like flowers, leave them be."

"And you four start collecting shatterbark leaves.  Get the little ones, if you can.  And don't suck your fingers until you've washed your hands, or everything you eat is going to taste like seskii pee for a week!"

"I'll get some scrapings from the hazelbean bushes, if they're in good shape.  Rennold, you're going to help me look, right?  And you've got a bag to hold them in if we find the good ones?"  Rennold nodded enthusiastically at his older brother and rushed beside him into a thicket.

"And I, I will be right here," Buojrez says. She strings her bow and loosely knocks an arrow. It seems that the children are behaving but she knows how quickly that can go sideways. She also recalls how quickly the snake people appeared.

Thinking of that she spends a little extra attention looking in the direction they came from.

The kids continue at their tasks, focused or distracted as age and temperament allow.  They chatter quietly and collect their prizes here and there.

Apart from the occasional chirp of birds or rustling of leaves by some small, scurrying critter, this part of the forest seems unperturbed by large predators at the moment.

Buojrez, sharp-eyed as ever, starts to notice parts of the forest floor begin to ... swell?  Like a bubble expanding, they rise, grey-green masses slowly shedding leaves as they expand.  Semi-familiar shapes, shrouded in silence and partially hidden by shrubbery, begin to resolve as the leaf litter slides off them and their upward growth continues.  A foot tall.  Two feet tall.  Still rising.

Buojrez has seen these before.  Chokefever mushrooms.  Tasty flesh that has some curative properties when dried, powdered, and blended into teas, they are only safe to harvest after a week of sunshine on their fully open caps.  Their sudden growth is triggered by vibrations in the ground, the sound of which is dampened by some power no one understands.  Their spore clouds, strongest when they first spread their crowns, have been known to cripple and kill creatures who inhale them.

And there are at least a half a dozen appearing all around the children.

Buojrez shouts for the children to run back to the clave as fast as they can.

She moves to the closest to her, propelling them firmly in that direction.

The children to turn her, their faces a mix of confusion and impertinence.  "Why do we need to got back so soon?  I just found a huge worm!"

The tyke in her arms starts shouting. "Put me down!  I don't wanna be carried!  I wanna shoulder ride!"
This message was last edited by the GM at 02:20, Fri 02 Apr 2021.

Buojrez easily transfers the child to her shoulders.

"Dangerous spores!" She calls out. "The mushrooms will are growing fast and will push them out soon! We need to get back to the clave!"

She pulls out and holds forth her grenade. "This will freeze the ones closest to me, so you all need to get behind me NOW!"

She will wait as long as she thinks prudent, spurring any slackers on with her boot or some choice caravan swears. Before throwing she will again judge the situation.

The route retreating toward the clave seems to be free of chokefever, but that may not last.

"What's a spores?"

"Dangerous how?  Will there be a fireball?!"  The child's excitement is palpable.

The pair that was farthest away are the slowest to come to her.  Their panicked steps away from the ballooning ring of fungus are causing stumbles and cries.  If she lobs the cypher between the pair of mushrooms to her left and places the blast well, she should be able to stall their grown long enough for those little ones to get out of the growing ring of danger.

If she misses, she may slow the children's progress enough to ensure they'll be infected.

What would that pipe smoking clockwork man Alberic do, Buojrez wondered. Probably explain at great length.

"Run to me!" she shouted as she threw her cypher.


20:43, Today: Buojrez rolled 10 using 1d20.  Speed Test, two levels of effort, TN 6

As the cold spreads Buojrez lunges to reach the small ones and pull them away from the cold and the spores.

Buojrez's lob is on target, and the nearest fungus begin to contract a bit as ice crystals form on the stem and cap.  A circle of frosted leaves is marred by the panicked footfalls of children who stumble their way toward Buojrez and cling to her legs in terror.  Everyone is collected and the oldest two are carrying two of the younger ones even farther away.

Below her hips, in stereo, murmurs of "help us" rise up from faces with eyes clamped shut.  On her shoulder, the crabby one shouts, "They're starting to open!"  She points to a cloud of grey-green spores wafting from the growths at the far side of the clearing, where the children were just a few moments ago.

"Everyone hold on!" Buojrez shouts, turning to run.

20:18, Today: Buojrez rolled 3 using 1d20.  Might test to run, two levels of effort.

She is surprised at how much the children weigh and throw off her balance.

"Think!" she shouts at herself.

The first clouds of spores are beginning to drop from the fungus toward the far end of the little clearing the group was near.  The older children have corralled the younger ones at least 50 feet away and are slowly backing up, urging the two on Buojrez's legs to run, although the oldest has returned part of the way, waving her arms, nearly on the verge of tears.

Buojrez lumbers on.

"A little help!" she calls to the oldest child.

At the same time she tries to dig out her gravity nullifying spray, reasoning that a lighter child or two would be less encumbrance, or possibly even thrown.

"All is good!" Buojrez shouts as she pulls out a canister.

19:16, Today: Buojrez rolled 18 using 1d20.  Speed check, two levels of effort.

 "Be still," she cautions the smallest child. Pointing the canister at the youngster she sprays the contents all over their clothing.

Dropping the canister, she continues towards safety.

The weight of the child lifted by their now-weightless tunic and breeches (and the child quite confused and hanging on for dear life), Buojrez is able to make it out of the immediate threat of spore infection with all three of the youngins clinging to her.  The teenager breathes a brief sigh of relief before collecting the others and hurrying them back toward the clave.

Buojrez will explain to the adults what happened, as soon as the chidren have calmed enpugh to let her. She makes sure that no one will go that way for at least a week due to the dangerous spores.

Then she turns her mind to how to inform the ones who went off exploring. She doesn't have a means of communicating with them herself, nor does she think it is wise to wander out after them by herself.

She consults the others who stayed back, thinking perhaps she has forgotten something.

No long-distance communication strategy had been arranged beforehand to track the exploratory party.  Nalla is reasonably sure that she could create a cypher to accomplish the task, but she'd need some bits of iotum to complete device.

It may also be possible to send a message via the odd insect "hive" that Zalbane had been monitoring.  The creatures regularly ferry back and forth to Yenth.  It's the opposite direction of the party, but perhaps the clave there is better equipped to relay a caution.

OOC: If anyone remembers a cypher or strategy I'm forgetting, please let me know.

OOC: We agreed a fairly blunt strategy, which amounts to a regular check in at around sunrise and sunset to confirm all is well, or that there is trouble, just by reflecting lights at each other. It basically amounts to a way for us to alert that we're in trouble or for the Clave to request that we return urgently. It wouldn't manage anything more sophisticated than that.
This message was last edited by the player at 08:39, Tue 04 May 2021.

"Bother!" Buojrez mutters to herself. If she sends the all is well signal the explorers could walk right into the spores. If she sends the trouble signal they could rush back into the spores.

Also, depending on the weather the spores could be gone sooner rather than later.

She shows her remaining items to Nalla, the chime that sounds at dawn and the light shining device. "Would either of these be of use in making a signalling item?"

After passing over the rods, Nalla looks at the green light projector.  She turns it over in her hands as she walks around her workshop looking at various components stored neatly in various drawers and shelves.

"I think I might be able to build something, but I'd require a few more parts and iotum.  I can start trying to put compile what I have and draw up plans.  I can give you a list of what to get."

Buojrez nods. This sounds more interesting than herding children or livestock.

In the meantime she goes back to making arrows and watching the appraoches to the Clave.

The night within the clave passes peacefully enough.  A few small, wandering creatures can be heard for those with an ear out, but they are merely nocturnal forest denizens foraging for their daily meal.

After breakfast, Nalla hands Buojrez a list of sorts.

Io - 2
Responsive Synth - 1

Each item on the list is accompanied by several small drawings and descriptions.  Nalla's handwriting is tiny, but very neat and legible, although some of the words, even in Truth, are strange to Buojrez's eyes.

"If you can find those, I'll be able to use your green light to make a device to get a message to the others.  I'll need to work on the building it during the day, though, or we'll lose that much more time before we can warn them."

Buojrez looks at Nalla. "Well, I don't know of any handy sources for what we need. I do not wish to go through my companion's goods while they are away, and I would also think they would have taken all of their wonders with them."

She furrows he brow. "Right now all I cna think of is returning to the cave where we found Dee Bee and searching."

Nalla shrugs.  "That might work.  Maybe there are scraps in the ravine?  It's more likely we overlooked something there, since we didn't explore all that much.  Or you might be able to find something in Yenth, but that'll be nearly a day's journey each way, unless you have a way to move faster.  Perhaps you could catch a merchant along the road that runs along the south side of the forest, but that's a long shot, to say the least."

Buojrez readies her weapons, water, and some food to prepare for a search of the ravine.

Thinking, she grabs a blanket and some tools to start a fire.

"If the day grows short," she tells Nalla, "I may hole up in the cave for the night, but that would not be my preference."

Nalla nods in understanding.

Buojrez grabs a shovel and a pick. She looks at Nalla. "Anything else I need. Io sniffers? Needles of Numenera Nearness?"

Expecting a negative answer she shoulders her pack, weapons, and tools. "Keep the children from the spores," she warns.

Nalla just looks slightly confused at Buojrez.  "I'm not familiar with those.  Have you used them before?"

Regarding the children, Nalla nods and waves absently as she focuses again on her planning and material examinations.

Buojrez shrugs. She is perhaps longing for the caravn life again.

She goes back to readying her gear.

She hoist everythig up and looks back at the Clave.

"i'll be back," she says, perhaps with a smile.
This message was last edited by the player at 02:17, Fri 21 May 2021.

Buojrez makes her way to the ledge that leads to the odd cave, and the chasm that gapes beside it.  The spikes and ropes of their earlier descent are still visible and seem secure.

Unsure of exactly what she is looking for, Buojrez descends as far as the ropes will allow her and takes stock of her surroundings. Her plan is to start a spiral search, moving slowly, with her bow ready. Hopefully find some gleaming item or perhaps signs of recent activity.

Back in the narrow crevasse where the skeletal remains were found earlier, Buojrez can really only follow the narrow path along, beneath the cave, and farther.  The residents of the clave have never made a full survey of the extent of this ragged hole in the Earth, so it's not entirely clear what she might find.

The small flying beasts roosting in the crags high above chitter and squawk as they swoop in and out to hunt and return with insects and other bits to nibble on.

Following the path, she looks for any sunlight reflecting off of metal, crystal, or glass.


20:20, Today: Buojrez rolled 10 using 1d20.  Perception (trained) one level  of effort.

Buojrez is able to pick out a few shins and a scrap of metal that might serve as a pick or small chisel.  Useful, perhaps, but not really what she's looking for.  She will certainly need to explore farther along the crevasse (or deeper into the detritus she's walking on).  Only a few more steps and she'll have passed the farthest point her group has gone.  Up ahead, the gulch bends to the right.

"The road goes ever on," she mutters to herself. She strings her bow and loosely nocks an arrow as she follows the gully. Every hundred steps or so she stops for a minute to be still and listen.

Buojrez's progress is slow, but unremarkable for a while.  There is leaf litter under foot, but no more bodies seem buried in it (at least not at the surface), nor does there seem to be any devices protruding from the ground.

The crevasse narrows a bit toward the top, becoming little more than a snaking path of light above.  The floor, though, widens a bit as it grows dimmer.  One thing Buojrez notices is that it is getting colder, much colder than she would expect a cave of this size and depth to be.

Buojrez paused, considering. She decided to proceed until she could see her breath at least. At that point gripping her weapons would become difficult. She was also low on numenera of her own, so adaptability would be minimal.

She paused again after another hundred steps or so and listened for the sound of any machinery that could be chilling the air, a hum or whirring.

As the sky above narrows to little more than a jagged line of leaf-dappled sky, the floor of the crevasse widens and slopes downward slightly.  Ahead in the dim light, almost sparkling and half buried in the ground, is some metal.

The air continues to get colder, and now Buojrez can see her breath.  She's about 30 feet away from the object, which seems to be constructed.  The exposed part appears undamaged, too.  It is possible that the sparkling effect is due to the material or maybe ice crystals, although the metal isn't the only place such frost can be seen.  The "cave" floor near the metal is frosted, too, and the zone of white expands beyond where the light can clearly reach.

Buojrez looked about cautiously, then hefted her maul. Either to bash an enemy or the object.

Step by step she moves forward, trying to determine if the temperature continues to drop as she nears the item. Clearly, she will be of no use if she freezes to death out here.

She sensed something was afoot. Maybe even amiss. Nonetheless, it seemed the cold had dulled her reactions.

13:19, Today: Buojrez rolled 4 using 1d20.  Initiative.

Unable to focus well on the shadows, due the contrast with the shiny object on the ground lit by the sun, Buojrez doesn't see an irregular mass of the frozen wall detach and begin moving until it is nearly upon her.

"What!?" Buojrez shouts in surpirse.

Her combat trained reflexes allow her to jump back, away from the cold object and whatever this thing that has approached her is.


16:00, Today: Buojrez rolled 19 using 1d20.  Speed Defense with one effort.

"I mean you no harm!" she shouts, while deciding on how she will harm it if it comes to full on battle.

Buojrez is able to leap out of the way and assess the situation better.  Unfolding itself from the wall is a mass of tentacles attached to a bulbous, eyeless head atop a long, multi-legged body.  The creature itself seems to be emanating the cold, and at Buojrez's words, it does not stop in the least.

OOC: How big is the metal object?

Small object that could be held in one hand.

WHile briefly considering a foolhardy grab for the metal object, she feared that would expose her to the creature's attacks.

Buojrez went into full defensive retreat mode. She moved back up the trail, not trying to attack, but ready to defend. Tryibg to understand how fast the creature was, and if it would follow her back into the open sunlight.

The creature follows, relentless.  The light of the sun has no effect on it's pace or behavior.  The path back narrows as Buojrez gets closer to the clave and safety.  If she continues on this route, she will severely limit her own mobility if she is to meet it in combat.

Apart from the scratching of the creature's claws on the hardscrabble ground, the only other sound it makes is a hissing, seemingly related to the cold emanating from beast's body.  Wisps of ice fog drift behind it as it moves.

"Can't go back, can't talk to it, so violence will settle everything," Buojrez muttered.

Firmly gripping her maul she takes a swing at the creature's head.

15:29, Today: Buojrez rolled 14 using 1d20.  Attack roll, two levels of effort.

Buojrez's strike hits true and the creature ... cracks (?) in places.  It is certainly injured, but not slowed.  It lashes out at Buojrez with one of the tentacles on its massive head.  Buojrez can clearly see her breath and ice seems to be forming on some of armor.

Speed defense DC 5:15, please.

Buojrez moves with the lumbering grace of a drunk.....

20:03, Today: Buojrez rolled 3 using 1d20.  Speed Defense with two effort.

The creature strikes true with one the tentacles, cold blistering Buojrez's skin.  Some of the damage Buojrez did to it seems to be regenerating.

Buojrez paused, as if performing math in her head. Or waiting for the gods to answer a question she had posed.

She spat, tightened her grip on her maul, then took a mighty swing at the place where she had first struck the creature.


12:54, Today: Buojrez rolled 11 using 1d20.  Attack with three effort, one to hit, two for damage.

There is a squelching sound followed by a thud and then a series of splattering sounds.

Buojrez's massive swing cleaved through the body of the creature (no mean feat with a blunt weapon) before coming to rest as the maul strikes the dirt below it.  Gelatinous-crystal goo flies all over, dotting the dirt, the canyon walls, and Buojrez with shiny blue material that freezes on contact before quickly beginning to thaw and become runny.  The inert remains of the beast collapse into an oozing heap on the ground.

"VICTORY!" Buojrez shouts before moving quickly to pick up the metal item from thr ground.

She looks at it before pocketing it.

The thing, was just so....fascinating!

21:53, Today: Buojrez rolled 498 using 1d501.

21:52, Today: Buojrez rolled 2 using 1d2.

Buojrez pulls a glinting metallic pipe with valves on it out of the ground.  It's a flute of some sort, it seems, although there are buttons and dials on it that are unlike anything Buojrez has ever seen in any tavern band's instruments.

Loosely attached to the flute is a desiccated, skeletal hand.

"It's beautiful," she sighed.

She carefully wrapped the hand and put it in her pack.

As she walked she regarded the flute with a frown. She was no musician, and she did not remember any of her companions displaying any such talent. Then again, perhaps the flute could be used to signal her companions to avoid the spores.

She moved back towards the clave, stopping when she reached full sunlight to take an account of her injuries and equipment. Clearly there was more exloring to do, she just needed to catch her breath.

16:17, Today: Buojrez rolled 10 using 1d6+4.  Recovery.

"Forward," she murmured as she turned back to where the fight and find had occurred.

As she reached the remains of the creature she paused to kick a couple of pieces in different directions on the off chance that it might rise again.

Then she nocked an arrow and proceeded cautiously forward.
This message was last edited by the player at 20:22, Mon 12 July 2021.

As the way became more and more like a cave, Buojrez paused and lit a torch. Bow in the left hand, torch in the right, she continued at a slothful pace.

In the hollow left by the creature's emergence, there seem be additional glints of light, metal or perhaps crystal.  Strewn about deeper in the cave/canyon, often barely protruding from the ground, are additional crafted objects.  There doesn't seem to be a pattern, at least nothing immediately apparent, but certainly objects of value have been brought to this place over the years.  Some of the things are rotten or broken, but some may still be of use.

"Hmmmm," she murmured. Looking about, she found a crack into which she could jam the butt end of the torch. Then she set about gathering the smallest and loosest items, trying not to make too much noise.


20:50, Today: Buojrez rolled 6 using 1d20.  Scavenging, two levels of effort.

Buojrez's poking, prodding, picking, and digging in the area yields a small trove of items.  Some are found near human(oid) remains.  Others seem to be stashed in hollows or crevices, or merely protruding from the stones and rotting detritus of the cave floor.

8:29, Today: Buojrez rolled 333 using 1d400.  oddity.

08:29, Today: Buojrez rolled 236 using 1d701.  cypher.

Buojrez carefully packs up the finds. She inspects the remains to see if she can determine the cause of death, at least whether or not it was sudden or violent.

Buojrez's assessment of the remains is hampered by their age and condition.  While there are some small injuries to the bones, it is unclear if those injuries were part of what caused their death.  The scraps of fabric that may have been clothes offer no useful clues, either.

Perhaps the most interesting finds were a small blue crystal and an unusual plan.  When Buojrez first saw it, it was an herb familiar to her, a common seasoning used where she once trained.  As she watched, though, the plant contracted into itself and grew anew as a different herb, one with fragrant blossoms whose scent reminded the glaive of sweet treats from her childhood.

Buojrez shuffled items in her pack around to ensure safe passage for all, especially the plant. Clearly it was time to return to the clave. She felt overwhelmed and over extended.

As the light fades into evening, Buojrez is able to lug her treasures back to the clave and present her finds to Nalla, who has been busy scribing plans in the glaive's absence.  The amount of child-produced disorder outside of the workshop is a testament to the wright's single-minded focus (and the boredom of some certain little miscreants).

Buojrez gathered the children and teens and promised the tale of her adventure when they had finished setting everything back in order.

Eager for tales of derring do (and already impressed by how she saved them the previous day), the children quickly (if not orderly) clean up the common areas within the walls and even set out dishes for supper in the common hall.  They occasionally pepper Buojrez with questions as they pass by with loaded arms or pause in their sweeping.

"Did you fight any monsters?"

                                                       "Did you find any treasure?"

"Were you kidnapped by ultraterrestrials?"

                                "Did you rescue another weird person from the machine cave?"

"Did you hear from the others?"

She loosely tries to herd them from the most comfortable chair she could find after removing her armor and bathing. In response to their questions she curtly answers "Yes," "Yes," "No," "No," and "No."

After supper she gathers any and all interested parties and tells of her travels and travails. She goes into great detail on the numbing cold of the monster, and its terrible grasping tentacles. She pulls forth the hand she carefully packed first, letting the braver children touch it if they dared. She shows them the flute, the crystal, and the plant, warning all that they are "Dangerous and surely harmful in the wrong hands. Once the powers are known we will figure out how best to use them to protect this place."
This message was last edited by the player at 02:35, Fri 30 July 2021.

The children are enraptured by Buojrez's story, although their parents seem to cringe a bit at the gorier details. They continue to pester her for details and speculate wildly as to what other exciting adventures may be found in the darkness of the far crevasse.


Nalla is more than pleased with the items Buojrez has recovered and takes the iotum to the workshop to be examine, cleaned, categorized, and used in the plan she's developed.  She thinks that if she doesn't sleep, it may be ready by morning.

Buojrez will make sure that Nalla is undisturbed and has whatever nutrition she made need. Once her work is done, then perhaps they can discuss the flute.

Is there an herbologist, or gardner, or old, weathered farmer who can take a look at the odd plant that Buojrez found?

The closest thing to an herbalist within the clave community is the (slightly) younger of the two women herders.  She's helped the children with gathering some common plants from the surrounding forest, but the depth of her knowledge isn't well known to the glaive.

"Any knowledge is better than mine," Buojrez thought.

Bringing the odd plant she found, she approaches the woman. "I found this plant. It would seem that it transforms every day to a differet plant. Perhaps you could help me plant it somewhere and then you could see if something useful were to grow from it?"

Looking at Buojrez's discovery, she says, "It looks like a vizz plant.  We use those leaves to season the yol cheese, sometimes.  You said it ... changes?"

As they are chatting, the woman rummages through some shelves in the barn and retrieves a small pot to plant the herb in.

"Well, yes. It did. Maybe we watch and see?"

Buojrez looked around, not really recognizing much. "I was thinking maybe something useful could come of it, but I am not an expert on plants, herbs, spices, or green things."

She looks at the plant again, quizzically.  "Well, let's see what this does..."  She took some small shears and cut off a few minor stalks.  "We'll set these up to dry, for the cheese, and find out what it looks like tomorrow."

She rummaged around until she found a bit of string and hung the sprigs up along on of the beams, not resting against the barn walls.  The plant is placed on a table near the door, where it will get plenty of sunlight.  With cupped hands, she supplies it a bit of water from the trough.

Buojrez nods and smiles. She heads off to bathe and rest, after which she will go and check on Nalia's progress.

By morning, Nalla is asleep at her work bench, but the cypher seems to be complete on the table in front of her.

Buojrez picked up the cypher. She stared at it. Flipping it and turning it, she scrutinized it.


09:53, Today: Buojrez rolled 10 using 1d20.  Understanding Numenera.

Well, it was supposed to be a communications device. She held it to her forehead and thought hard about Zalbane and Alberic. "It's Buojrez. Can you hear me?" She said.

Perhaps Buojrez knocked some sense into her head when she held the cypher up to it.  Sliding open a small panel, a set of audio instructions played.  It recited in a metallic voice with an unfamiliar accent.  Buojrez had no idea where the wright had captured the words.  Also under the panel were three buttons.

"Press the purple button to activate the mechanism.  Call to mind the intended recipient of the message.  Press the red button and set the device on a flat surface.  Take three steps back and record up to one hundred words of a message.  Your visual presence will be recorded, also.  Press the black button to send the message.  A message intended for a recipient who is unconscious will be replayed when they return to consciousness.  Messages intended for recipients who are dead, in the [indecipherable] dimensions, or beyond a range of 3.14 parsecs will be undeliverable and irretrievable."

Buojrez had no idea what a parsec was.  Hopefully it was further than a mile.

Buojrez pressed the purple button and thought of Alberic. With his pipe and mechanisms he was easily the most memorable. That, and he seemed likely to take advice.
She then pressed the red button and put the device back on the table and took three steps backwards, mindful of obstacles.

“It is Buojrez. This message is to warn you of dangerous spores on your route back to the clave. They will be active for another five, perhaps six days. You cannot return that way unless you have a means to neutralize them. Approach from another direction is recommended.Other than that all is well. I saved the children, killed a monster, and found treasures. Be safe.”

Done, she pushed the black button and closed the device. Leaving it on the table she went out to check on the state of the clave.
This message was last edited by the player at 16:42, Thu 02 Sept 2021.

Even as Buojrez was walking away from the table, she saw the metallic device become transparent and fade from view.  She had no way of knowing if that was how it was supposed to function.

Within the walls of the clave, things were mostly on the quiet side.  Nalla was asleep in the hammock she strung in the workshop (for minimizing the effort needed to reach a sleeping site after a long night of work).  The children were out by the barn and paddock, minding their morning chores.  A few small six-legged lizards were scuttling around the walls and over the buildings, tracking down insects for their next meal.  Occasional wafts of some fragrant flower or other drifted over the clave walls.

Impressed by Nalla's example, Buojrez opts to nap.

Buojrez is awakened sometime later by a large insect crawling on her leg.

The insect is familiar, being one of the drones of the messenger hive that Zalbane helped to build, ferrying messages back and forth between the clave and Yenth.  It is likely a message has been dropped in the receptacle at the hive.  Some of the bugs have taken to landing on the humans when this happens.

She rises, yawns, and stretches. Foregoing her armor, she hefts her maul over her shoulder and heads over to the hive.  Along the way she greets the clave members she passes. To her eyes, all seems to be in order.

When she reaches the hive she pokes around, looking for anything new.

The hive has a few entrances that are just barely large enough for the bees to enter.  The message canisters attached to their legs (when their are messages) are scraped off and caught by funnel, sliding down a tube to a small box.  Today, there is a new cylinder in that box.

Buojrez gingerly lifts the new message.

The breeze tugs at it, but the advantage of six fingers is more spindles to wind around.

She wraps it between her fingers and then takes a long look at what the new message is.
This message was last edited by the player at 22:39, Tue 21 Sept 2021.

The message is from Prelate Mez (or one of her secretaries):

"Traders seeking okum lumber.  Have weapons, tools, textiles for trade.  Recommend meeting if inventory available.  Reliable route.  Please advise."

Buojrez knows from her time at the clave and conversations with Mustane that there are, in fact, a number of okum trees in the area, and the sawmill automaton may have cut one or more into usable boards in the past few days.

A small covered box attached to the hive has materials for sending messages back to Yenth, if Buojrez can also manage to catch one of the large insects as it leaves the hive.

Rather than issue an immediate response, she decodes to talk to Mustane again, to see how much is available for trade, now, or in a week's time. She also wants to determine the priority in terms of weapons, tools, or textiles.

"Despite my love of weapons," she thinks.

She makes a couple lazy, off hand grabs at the insects before heading back to the clave.

Buojrez finally finds Mustane out by the barn.  He's working on building a shed onto the side to store lumber and other building supplies.  The yols and dossi are being moved out of the nearby pen to head off to pasture, and one of the younger children is collecting the dossi scales that were sloughed off overnight.  The air is redolent with sap and dung.  The sawmill automaton can be heard nearby to the north, continuing its duties.

"Excuse me, Mustane," Buojrez starts, her nose wrinling slightly at the smells. "There are traders in the area seeking okum lumber. Do we have any to trade, or perhaps we can saw some of the trees nearby? They have tools and textiles to offer."

"We have a bit," he answers, nodding toward the barn.  One of the animal stalls has been serving as storage for lumber and other materials, but soon there will be foals and more room will be needed.  "We could get more if we need it in, say, a day or so.  The cutter's doing a good job, but he don't like much leavin' a job half-done.  Tried that twice and both times it took three days of tryin' to redirect him before I got even one more tree felled.  I pick the trees a might more carefully now."

"Do you know what tools?  What textiles?  Fancy silks and sheer synthsatin ain't got no place in the woods here, 'nless we're plannin' to trade that, too.  Tools, though, we could use.  Another axe.  Another mattocks.  Powered lathe 'd do us a world a good in the long run, I think.  Some saws and chisels, too.  Always nice to have back-ups."

"How about three days?" she asks. The others are a days journey out, at least, and possibly fiddling around for a day. At least. Then they will want to rest, decompress, brag, or whatever.

"I will advise that we prefer tools to fabrics, especially a powered lathe. And exactly what do you need smacked with a mattock?" she asked, thinking fondly of her maul.

"In three days, we could have two more cut, certainly, and part of a third.  It will take some planning, though, to decide which to cut and how to transport the lumber efficiently."

Regarding the mattock, Mustane says, "some of the smaller stumps in the paddocks really ought to be cut out.  It's salt-thorn.  It'll grow back if we leave the roots, and the beast won't eat it.  That's not so bad, but it also draws biting flies, which are bad.  If you're eager to work your back, be my guest."  He points to the fields they've cleared and fenced of the past weeks.  The bluish wood with black stripes radiating from the core.  It'd be good for making fancy boxes and such, if the surface didn't crystallize over with sharp spines over time."  Mustane shrugs.

Buojrez looks to where Mustane is pointing.

"First thing in the morning," she says. "For now I want to check on the rest of the clave. Please start to plan and cut the okum. I am hopeful to trade it for more and better tools."

Mustane nods and returns his focus to the task at hand.  It hasn't really been clearly delineated who's in charge of the clave, but he knows it's not him.

Patrolling the settlement, Buojrez finds everything in order.  The herds are minded, the food is being prepared, clothing is being washed and mended.  The children are occupied in multiple, supervised activities which require no warrior's supervision or protection.  Nalla is busy in her workshop with who-knows-what, but the last bit of tinkering worked (well enough, hopefully?), so it's probably not dangerous.  There are no immediate threats visible along the perimeter.  It may require that the glaive go a bit farther afield if she demands novelty this day.

"Not today," she says.

She checks on the skins of the lizard folk enemies to see if they are tanned or perhaps even boots by now. Then she takes the skeletal hand she found on her last foray and considers it. She could just hang it as a pendant, or perhaps braid her hair with the finger bones at the end. There was a fine line between looking intimidating and looking homicidal.

She does take a look at the stumps Mustane mentioned and judges the amount of effort involved in removing them.

The scaled hide is stretched and drying, but not ready, quite yet, for working into boots or gloves.  The shepherds have discussed the process with Buojrez before.  Actually, they've described it multiple times to anyone who will listen, anyone who happens to be nearby, even just to the wind, it would seem.  Perhaps they hoped the children were listening?  Buojrez catches an acrid whiff of whatever concoction they use to make the skin pliable.  Applied every three days, the smell would indicate there are at least two more days of drying before it can be measured and cut.  Maybe more.

The stumps the glaive finds are old and gnarled, as good trees and troublesome brush are wont to be.  With nothing but hand tools, each will likely take many hours to hack out.  The largest would likely take at least a day if only one person is working.

Turning her mond to the stumps, Buojrez will circumnavigate the clave, looking for idle layabouts or near adult children with time on their hands. Should she find any she will recruit them for the afternoon's stump removal team.

One of the teenagers seemed to be ... not engaged in their assigned activity, although it was not entirely clear what they were doing sitting in the shadowy gap between some of the residential structures.  Eyes wide and face flushed, digging stumps was an easy thing to agree to, as it avoided answering what could be more awkward questions.

"Come with me, Ruddiger," Buojrez said, barely restraining herself from pulling the boy by his ear.

Skinny, but tall. Long of limb. With work and effort, he could become muscular and grow into a glaive in training. However, from his appearance, he seemed to care more for his hair and demeanor of nonchalance than work.

Buojrez led him to the toolshed and directed him as to which implements to take. She made him carry them all. Then the headed for the stumps.

"Like this," she said, swinging her maul. She knew he couldn't repeat her effect, but she wanted to set the expectation.

The stumps are still green and stubborn, roots clinging to the soil in hopes of leafing anew next spring.  Buojrez's maul makes a thunderous thumping that shakes the earth around the stump as she pounds it.

Ruddiger, unhappy about the assignment, is nonetheless impressed by the glaive's power.  He offers to start digging around the roots to reveal more of the anchoring growth.  His work is slow, but steady and quite precise.

"Yes! Teamwork clears the stream's murk!" Buojrez says with a smile.

The work is hard, but it keeps her body busy and her mind distracted from monsters, traders, messages, and such. She allows the youth a decent number of breaks and shows him how to heft the maul and a simple defensive stance.

"At some point the clave will need explorers and scouts, which may be of more interest to you than farming or herding," she tells him.

Ruddiger works along, occasionally resting or working the stiffness from his hands.  "Scouting might be fun.  Get to move about, see things.  Not the same four walls all the time."  He hacks away at more of the roots.  "I can make maps.  I'm good at drawin'."

As the pair digs into the afternoon, there's something tickling Buojrez's mind, something she feels like she may have forgotten.

"Well, we can call it quits in time to get you back home for dinner. Tomorrow find me if you want to do more."

Buojrez started to compose the reply message in her mind. She planned to send it after she dismissed Rudigger and before dinner. Something like, "In three days time we will have enough for trade. Prefer tools and fabrics or clothing. Choose a meeting point and let us know."

Ruddiger merely nods at the invitation as the work continues.  He chews on the idea (and a stalk of long grass) as he hacks and shovels. Three extracted tangles of roots mark the same number of uneven pits in the fields.  Tomorrow, soil and drit will need to be brought so the livestock don't risk breaking a leg if they're startled.


As you are working to extract the last of the day's stumps from the earth, a clanking sound and a glint of metal amongst the snarls below ground catches your interest.

Her maul hits ,,,,something.

Buojrez, paiuses, considers, hits again. The noise is the same.

"Ho, Ruddiger! Look!"

She points, then takes a much more calculated swing.


19:35, Today: Buojrez rolled 14 using 1d20.  Speed, two effort.

The swing shatters thick roots that were largely obscuring something metal that the tree had embraced beneath the soil.  An object of some sort, a case perhaps, can now be pulled loose of the worm-ridden soil beneath the surface.  It shows a few fresh dents already from Buojrez's less precise strikes.

"I am going to open this carefully," she told the boy. "Stay a step back and behind me, just in case."


20:27, Today: Buojrez rolled 4 using 1d6.  A very important find.

Swiping the drit away from an encrusted latch, Buojrez is able to open the small container.  Inside she finds a pair of cylinder-shaped hunks of iotum (Responsive Synth, 2 units), and a vial of odd, dark liquid paired with a familiar type of automated needle (Magnetic Ink cypher, level 5).  There appears to have been one or more other items in the case, but they have decayed (rusted? decomposed? dissolved? evaporated?) over the years so that only bits and pieces remain (8 units of parts).

Ruddiger just looks on with mild curiosity, although he doesn't seem particularly impressed.  "We're almost done with this stump.  Can we finish?  I don't want to have this on my chore list tomorrow."

"Yes, yes, I know, boring," Buojrez says with a smile. "I was hoping for money or a weapon, but with this Nalla, Alberic, and Zalbane will be able to craft something useful for the clave."

She sets the box aside carefully at a safe distance.

Having been given a new deadline for completion by Ruddiger Buojrez doubles her efforts on the stump.

It doesn't take long to dismantle this last tree-corpse and set the wood aside to be chopped into manageable pieces another day.  Cookfires still need fuel, if nothing else.  Ruddiger is sweaty and smeared with dirt, but content with his efforts.  "I hope they made stew tonight.  I could finish five bowls after all this," be boasts, surveying the pits and piles in the fields that the pair had created.

"Your story will be told," Buojrez says, with an eye roll.

Life at the clave continues uneventfully for the next couple days, although that doesn't mean there is nothing to do.  Mustane continues directing the sawmill automaton for the lumber they need.  Various and sundry children milk Yol, spin yarn, and continue with stump removal.  The younger children collect shiny pebbles and braid flowers to trade.

The exploring party returns late the following day, reporting their findings, concerns, and areas for further exploration.

It is now the morning of the expected caravan visit, and they are scheduled to arrive around noon.

OOC: Is there anything else you'd like to have worked on or accomplished leading up to the caravan arrival?

Also, we have one or two more players interested in the game, who would be arriving with the caravan.  Just an FYI.

Buojrez monitors the progress of the lumber for trading. She also shows all of her numenera finds to Nalla to see what input she has.

Nalla is excited and curious about the Responsive Synth and parts.  She cleans and classifies and stores them in neat drawers she has built.  Of the cypher, she acknowledges how it might be useful, especially holding on to metallic items when one's hands are occupied.  She expresses no particular desire to use that on herself.  "And if no one wants it, maybe someone can figure out how to successfully disassemble it.  I can always use more pieces to work with."  She points out a set of lead-lined cabinets and says that it should be safe to store it in one of them, if no one cares to use it.

"What about this?" Buojrez says, showing her the flute like item she found. "I am loath to put it near my mouth, but surely the dragon rider would show interest."

Nalla looks at it curiously.  "I have seen similar items, but nothing quite like it.  May I take some time to study it?"

She tests the buttons and other controls(?) of the instrument, although she, too, avoids blowing into it.  The valves tap, the dial clicks.  No other sound is produced and no effect seems to be elicited.  "If nothing else, I will make sure it is clean."

Buojrez thanks Nalla and sets about getting ready for the traders and eventual return of the others. She checks the turret for functionality, and then waits.