Aesop lays himself down next to the broken house. He wouldn’t fit, even if he tried. He looked at the woman, trying to gage if she was friend ... or food.

22:53, Today: Aesop rolled 4 using 2d6 with rolls of 3,1.  friend or food (discerning).
I guess that means he does not know?.

"Oh, madame! Excuse us for the rude interruption." Grigori glares at the Duke after his careless smashing "That is a quandry indeed. Tell me, what laborers set this house for you at the beginning? Pay is really only useful if there are laborers to hire, after all, and we've a terrible dearth of laborers as it stands. Pray tell, what circumstance finds your home in such a remote locale?" Grigori watches the woman carefully, hoping to find some detail that marks her as strange in this particularly strange place.


21:55, Today: Grigori rolled 10 using 2d6+2 with rolls of 2,6.  Insight into the old woman.

JJ had no idea what to do in this situation, having only the vaguest idea of what 'pay' meant. Ze simply waited, leaving it up to the humans.

The Duke stands on the far side of the shattered wall looking at all the splinters in his arms and starts to pluck them out dropping bloody pieces onto the floor as the waterfall of words takes care of the lady. As they talk The Duke inspects the pot on the stove as it smells like something he needs to secure.

The woman smells very wrong. Like dried blood and bone dust and stale rocket fuel and mouse sweat and million-year-old cheese. ...Or at least that's what his nose tells him. Nothing that moves and makes noise should smell like those things, especially all at once. It makes Aesop's nose... and brain... ache.

(Aesop gets a -1 on his next roll, but also gets 1 new xp.)




The old woman points at Anchorite Tearful. "The daughter of bombs there should know. It was her kind who built my house, and can build it again. She can work off the debt of the damage that's been done to my house... and I can teach her things she'll find valuable, if she does a good job..."

The old woman turns back to Grigori. "But as for you... I like your politeness. Housebreakers should have manners, at the very least... But I could also ask you what brings you six to this remote spot...? I haven't seen a little gathering like this in aeons... So I'll trade you, for a while, answer for answer... My home is here because this is where the bomb went off, so long ago, that pulled the dreams and fears from men's heads and turned them solid. When I was young, this spot was a decent-sized city. Now, it is a heart-crater, and barely that. To put it another way, the spot is only remote because everyone ran away... Now, you answer. What brings you this way, mmmmm...?"

She glances briefly at The Duke-- "--I wouldn't touch that if I were you, little boy. What I'm cooking may not agree with you, and not just because it's too hot..."

Bad food? The Duke eyes the pot suspiciously. He recalls bad food from a long time back. Made his tummy rumble in a bad way for days. It was no fun. But then why still be cooking it? It made no sense and the painful face The Duke makes as he tries to make sense of it might actually be accompanied by the sound of rusty gears grinding to a halt.

"Yes, Duke, please be careful. Do remember your manners when you're visiting company." Grigori lowers his walker and steps out of the cockpit, turning to wave his compatriots to exit with him."We will find you a tasty treat soon." Grigori approaches the huge man and places a hand on his shoulder, trying to calm the confusion that's crunching his face together.

He turns his head to face the old woman, "I've always enjoyed a good game of give and take. We come from the Ziggurat, a great tower and preserve for the sort of civilization we'd thought had been wiped from the face of the planet. We had thought we were the last of its kind but have learned of a signal from a long lost sister called the Cloister." He pauses a moment and watches the old woman's face carefully, hoping to discern whether the name registered as familiar before continuing.

"I've heard whispers and legends of the days of bombs, though they disagree with each other more often than not. My compatriot has not shared the stories of her people, mayhaps she shall share with us both should we find ourselves lucky. I am glad that the bomb has left your house standing and you in one piece, though I lament your lonely existence. I imagine the time has given you opportunity to learn much. Pray tell, what do you know of the Cloister?"

"Bah. There have been many days of bombs. Many, many days, many different kinds of bombs..."




"My bomb built my house, sonny..."




"Oh, yes, well, it's not so lonely as you might think... I have other visitors, now and then... just not your kind. More like him," she says, pointing at Aesop with a wooden spoon. "They buy things, sometimes try to sell me things..."





She cackles. "Sonny, you don't know the half of it."




"Ah, now, that's a good question. The problem is, we're trading answers, and now I have to think about what answer I would want in return. Because if I can't think of a new answer I want to know, why should I answer your new question...?" She thinks. "...This is the problem with monsters offering to sell me things... what do I need, really...? Mmmmm... So... I suppose the real question is... what might you want to buy...? Besides the answer to your last question, that is... Hmmmm..." She sighs. "I suppose I'll settle for that. The answer to your question is that yes, I have heard of The Cloister before, just as I'd certainly already heard of your Ziggurat. I don't know exactly where The Cloister is... Not exactly near here, I know that much... I don't recall if I've ever met anyone who claimed to be from The Cloister... but I'm pretty sure I've met people who claimed that they'd met such people... Not lately, though..."

"So, that's my answer, for now... And my question is, is there anything you people are looking to buy...? Of course, I gather you would like the location of The Cloister, but I don't know that right now, and I can't guarantee you that I can get it in a hurry... I have to wait for customers who know about it to come to me, you see..."

Aesop looks at the woman as she talks and even points at him. He blows his nose, troubled by the smells he got before. He nods as his tail flicks about and turns to Grigori.

“Yes, she probably meets creatures like me. She smells like she herself is more like me than she is like you.”

His voice is deep and rumbly, though he attempts to keep it at a passable volume.
This message was last edited by the player at 00:26, Thu 09 Jan 2020.

Hmmm, created by a bomb? Grigori wonders to himself. What sort of bomb creates? For that matter, how has this stood so long?

"Curious, Aesop. More like you than me, you say? Curious on curious..." He taps his chin as he speaks and paces back and forth.

"As for your question, please give me a moment to consult," He waves to Duke, AJ, and Aesop, urging them to gather close to him, Anchorite Tearful, and the Lady. If they do, he asks, "What sort of wares is this old woman like to have? Do you four need anything that the Ziggurat didn't provide? I'm not even sure we've got the sort of money she'd be looking for."

The Duke reluctantly leaves the offending kettle to join Grigory and the others. Foers wasn't yelling at him not to smash the lady but she didn't look dangerous at all and Grigori was talking to it so he might not like it if he would twist her arm to wring answers from her. He seems quite lucid when asked the question and answers the wordweavers question.

"We be lucky if a client comes soon with the answer we want. But she knows who knows. Does she know where to find the one who knows?"

“I would like ...”, replied The Lady dreamily, “the woman’s memory of her first kiss”.

She’d been carefully watching this interaction intently, but had spoken none, to allow those of superior diplomatic skill to take the fore.

"A purchase... A shopping list... an interesting question we hadn't thought we would run across outside of our tower. I suspect your wares are of limited nature, the most valuable of which may barely seem a ware at all. We would like to purchase information. A tale, a drawing, a prediction." Grigori steps forward from the group and reaches out with two open palms. "Tell ua the tale of your first kiss, sketch us a map of the area as you know it, and predict your next encounter with outsiders other than us. For this, we will pay what meager currency we possess."

"Currency? No. I have enough of that. As payment in advance... I want you to do something for me. I can do many, many things... but one thing I cannot do is leave this area. I want you to go somewhere, and deliver something for me... and pick up something from the same place, and bring it back to me... It is not far... especially not for beings such as yourselves, who possess such fine vehicles..."

"For these three things, we will gladly do you this favor. Give us the item and the place and we'd be happy to make this trade." Grigori bows in the traditional gesture of a deal well struck among the academics of the Ziggurat, then straightens himself and awaits more detail.

Aesop stretches and gets up as he gets a sense that they will be leaving again. While he won’t admit it, he’s glad they won’t be around that woman anymore.

The old woman nods solemnly. From a pocket of her clothing she pulls out a... a... what is that?

It looks like a sort of shimmering light.

But when she hands it to Grigori, it feels like a glass ball, about four inches across. Even though it doesn't look like a glass ball. The twisting, shimmering light keeps moving outside the boundaries of where the glass ball's edges feel like they should be.

It also smells like roses, and makes a very, very faint noise like a tiny little music box.

"Go south from here until you see the chrome mountains. It's less than an hour, in vehicles, and a safe journey. Give this to the fella that asks you about it-- no one else. He'll give you my payment."

Anchorite Tearful approaches Grigori and the others. "...I'm staying here," she says. "The woman and I have been talking telepathically, all this time... There are things she'll teach me that I must learn. You can come back for me later on... I hope you understand... This is too good an opportunity for me to pass up..."

Looking at the light one can hold The Duke oh's and ah's in rapt wonder and then reaches out with his massive hands.

"The Duke will carry it and keep it safe. You drive."

Aesop stops and looks at Anchorite, then at the old woman, and then back to Anchorite. He doesn’t seem pleased.
He walks over to Anchorite and gently puts his forehead against hers. “Be careful, friend. She smells dangerous.” he says.

He stands back up and goes to his full posture, standing tall and protective as he adresses the old woman. “If you hurt her you and I will have problems. Understood?” He then turns around and joins the rest, “accidentally” bumping over the mailbox.

---

22:31, Today: Aesop rolled 3 using 2d6 ((1,2)).

Sigh... XP I guess?

Aesop is embarrassed about having ruined his exit by knocking over the mailbox.

(Aesop gets -1 on his next roll, but gets 1 xp.)

The old woman watches closely to see if the party will let The Duke carry the object to be delivered, but so far she says nothing...

Grigori feels like he might loose himself in the fantastic object, but shakes the feeling at the Duke's words, "Yes, thank you, Duke." He hands the object over with a mix of regreat and relief and climbs back up into his walker.

"In that case, we'll be off to the chrome mountains, now. We'll see you in a matter of hours if this trip is as short and straightforward as you claim. Please, fill Anchorite with knowledge that she may share with the rest of us when the time is right." He motions toward the lady, inviting her to rejoin him in the walker, and prepares to head south as soon as everybody is mounted.

Taking the object with a lot more care one would expect of the brute monstrosity that is The Duke he gives Grigory a gleeful smile and then makes his way back into the skimmer calling out to JJ.

Lets go!"

Then he seems to loose himself staring into the thing mumbling to himself about how precious the little light is.

JJ nodded amiably, climbing back into the driver's seat and heading off.

The expedition force of five leaves the no-front house in the blasted tree trunks, and heads south. There are no obstacles, no dangers, just mile after mile of barren, rocky landscape.

The Duke notes that, slowly, the object he holds changes. The light widens, slows its shimmer.

It solidifies... into a ball of ice.

That's what it looks like, anyway. It feels like rough stone. Volcanic, perhaps.

Its smell changes, to wet leather.

Very soon, though, it becomes clear that there are, in fact, mountains ahead...

The trek continues... soon the mountains are near...

There are no foothills. The mountains rise up quite suddenly from ground level.

And these are surely the chrome mountains specified, because they shine in the dim light, like polished hematite...

There are various holes, most a little smaller than a man's height, in the face of the small mountains...

...And then, as the two vehicles (and Aesop) approach more closely... Forms emerge from those holes... Octopoid beings... carrying spears, and sometimes other weapons...

The suckers on their arms allow them to cling to the polished surface of the stone easily... It occurs to Grigori that perhaps the stone is polished merely through hundreds of thousands of years of friction, hundreds of thousands of years of suckers and tentacles rubbing the stone smooth...

The tentacled beings point the vehicles (and Aesop) out to one another, and they begin to descend down closer to ground level... There are only a couple of dozen of them now, but a few went back inside-- for reinforcements, possibly...?
This message was last edited by the GM at 20:19, Fri 24 Jan 2020.

Grigori brings his walker to a stop and looks at the beings, narrowing his eyes to make sure that his memory isn't playing tricks on him. He leans over to the Lady, "Ah, the chrome mountains. I've heard of these beings before, though the mountains have another name in the ancient texts. They must have gained this gleam since the words were first laid down."

15:04, Today: Grigori rolled 11 using 2d6+2 with rolls of 4,5.  Insight - knowledge about these creatures.