<<if ($time > 30) and ($time < 100)>><<attacked>><<else if ($time > 135)>><<destination>><<else>>I move with the convoy.\n\nNear me floats a large pallet, made from four hoversleds welded together and pulled by a pair of [[equimax]]. Under a pup tent at the center, I can hear the fizzle-pop of the [[sparking baetyl]] we are contracted to protect. On the edge of the sled-palanquin crouches the four-armed mercenary called [[Wisp the Ice Spider|The Mercenary Called Wisp]], shielded from the bright sun by the shadow of the baetyl's tent.\n\nAnother mercenary, a renegade True Kin named [[Thom o'Chrome]], walks alongside his [[pack goat]], which is laden with supplies and carries a modified turret on its back.\n\nPerched atop the howdah-saddled shell of a [[great saltback]] is [[Oung]], the dromad trader who financed and planned the convoy. <<if ($slynth > 0) and ($slynth < 1000) and (visited() % 3 is 0)>>\n\n[[Something green]] flickers at the edge of my vision.<<endif>><<endif>>
<<if visited() is 1>>"So," I say, leaning in slightly, "we travel with the Ice Spider."\n\nThom shudders. "Don't remind me."\n\nI raise my eyebrows. "Are you frightened of Wisp?"\n\n"Of course I am!" he exclaims. "It is simple common sense to be afraid of her. She is an industrial thresher welded to a freeze ray, given human form, and bleached under the high salt sun."\n\n"You don't think she may be a good person?"\n\n"I've heard no rumors about the quality of her character, and innumerable rumors about the speed of her blades," Thom replies, "and I speak only of what I hear."<<else>>"Perhaps you would find Wisp to be friendly if you spoke to her," I suggest.\n\n"Please understand, I mean no slight!" Thom raises both elastyne-gloved hands in supplication. "For all I know, she adopts stilt orphans and teaches them to read. But I don't //know// that, and what I //do// know is that she wears a mask made of cured human skin."\n\nI purse my lips and nod. There's little I can say to that.<<endif>>\n\n<<thom-talk>>
No doubt the meeting of Chief Librarian Sheba Hagadias with this strange baetyl will be the stuff of legends, passed down through writing and oral tradition.\n\nBut that not my story.\n\nMy story diverges when my new friends and I are paid. My story is one of a four-armed bladeslinger, a friendly True Kin tinker, a peculiar slynth, an even more peculiar dromad trader...\n\n...and a very lucky hindren, who even now wanders the stiltgrounds in search of fine wine, hookah, and vittle on which to spend their newfound pay.\n\n<h2>The End</h2>\n\nYou got the ''<<$ending>>'' ending.
[[(chat)|thom-chat][$time += 2]]\n[[(ask how Thom is doing)|thom-howareyou][$time += 2]]\n[[(ask about the job)|thom-job][$time += 2]]<<if visited("Oung")>>\n[[(ask about Oung)|thom-oung][$time += 2]]<<endif>><<if visited("The Mercenary Called Wisp")>>\n[[(ask about Wisp)|thom-wisp][$time += 2]]<<endif>>\n[[(that's all)|thom-bye][$time += 2]]
<<if visited() is 1>>"What do you think of this job?" I ask.\n\nHis face lights up immediately. "What do I think of it? What do I //think// of it?!"\n\n"Well yes, that's what I was—"\n\n"It's the gig of a //lifetime!//" he exclaims, throwing his hands skyward. He then leans forward and lowers his voice conspiratorially. "If I'm being honest, I would take this job even if Oung chose to pay me nothing at all."\n\n"I suspect she would avoid doing so out of principle," I reply, a bit unnerved by the sudden change in energy.\n\n"Yes yes yes. But still. //Moving// a //baetyl?// Have you ever heard the like?"\n\n"I must admit, I have not."\n\n"No one has!" He almost titters, visibly giddy.<<else>>"Anything else you'd like to say about the job?"\n\n"Mm? Oh, well, we are likely to draw attention. <<if $time > 100>>An attack like the one we fended off was inevitable<<else>>We are likely to be attacked<<endif>>, since it appears that we are transporting very valuable cargo. And we are! Just... the kind that cannot be measured in drams."\n\n"Arguably, it can," I reply.\n\n"Only by the weakest arguments, Khashind," Thom replies, smiling, "only by the weakest arguments."<<endif>>\n\n<<thom-talk>>
<<if visited() is 1>><<oung-chat1>><<else if visited() is 2>><<oung-chat2>><<else if visited() is 3>><<oung-chat3>><<else>><<oung-chat99>><<endif>>\n\n[[(chat further)|oung-chat][$time += 2]]\n[[(ask how Oung is)|oung-howareyou][$time += 2]]\n[[(ask about the job)|oung-baetyl][$time += 2]]<<if visited("The Mercenary Called Wisp")>>\n[[(ask about Wisp)|oung-wisp][$time += 2]]<<endif>><<if visited("Thom o'Chrome")>>\n[[(ask about Thom o'Chrome)|oung-thom][$time += 2]]<<endif>>\n[[(bid goodbye)|oung-bye][$time += 1]]
Thom and I spend a while chatting.\n\nHe is most amenable company, but has a tendency to focus on strange details and otherwise ramble. While I can usually follow his rambling topics, I sometimes... cannot.\n\nIt is time well-spent, all the same.
For a few moments, all is the sound of gunfire, hissing bolts, and screeching metal.\n\nWisp holds her pistols akimbo in her lower hands, sending precise bolts of energy into the crowd, destroying the strongest robots before they can approach the front line. Thom has holstered the grenade launcher and fires heavy bolts from his eigenrifle, lancing entire lines of the plastic spheres in a single shot.\n\nAnd, of course, my chaingun spits its deadly ordinance at blinding speed, mowing down the front line of whichever part of the crowd I aim at.\n\nThen, the inevitable—Wisp's barrier breaks, and the robots pour through.\n\n"Your axe!" Wisp shouts, holstering her pistols even as she runs straight for the robots. I nod and drop my chaingun, galloping forward as I bring my fullerite battleaxe to bear.\n\n[[(but suddenly)|EMP]]
Vapor and Salt
<<if $wisp > 1000>>"Hoy, water-kin Wisp. Live and drink."\n\n"Live and drink, water-kin Khashind." Wisp's eyes crinkle in a smile. "I hope you are well."<<else if visited() is 1>>I approach Wisp carefully.\n\n"Hoy, mercenary Wisp."\n\nAt first it seems that she has no response at all, but I notice that her head has turned so she can regard me with her milk-white pupils. She remains silent.\n\n"L-live and drink?" I stammer. "You are Wisp, yes?"\n\n"Yes." she whispers back. "You are Khashind the hindren. Live and drink."<<else>>"Live and drink, Wisp."\n\n"Live and drink, Khashind. You wanted to talk?"<<endif>>\n\n<<wisp-chat>>
"That's all for now," I say, waving. "Live and drink, Thom o'Chrome."\n\n"Live and drink, good hindren Khashind!"\n\n[[(back to the road)|convoy]]
Where the rest of the Ice Spider's equipment speaks of tech-savvy resourcefulness and modern sensibility, her facemask is an austere, wrinkled brown leather with stitching running across the middle, held tight in a line across the bridge of her nose and extending no further up.\n\n<<if visited() is 1>>It is not until I recognize the vague shape of a human ear at the edge of the mask that I realize the truth: it is a human face, cut, cured, and fitted to be worn.<<else>>Alongside her nanoweave, elastyne, and tech, Wisp wears a severed human face atop her own.<<endif>>\n\n[[(keep examining Wisp)|The Mercenary Called Wisp][$time += 1]]\n[[(speak to Wisp)]]\n[[(leave her be)|convoy][$time += 1]]
Loosing a loud cry from my throat, I raise my axe and charge. Within moments, I see that Wisp runs alongside me, her two legs somehow keeping up with my four. Just as we are about to crash into the incoming wave of robots, she swipes a hand in a long lengthwise arc, and a shimmering wall of energy envelops us on both sides.\n\nShe has created a force wall on top of us!\n\n"Stay in the field and they can't surround us!" she shouts.\n\nThen the wave hits.\n\n[[(we fight)]]
I turn to look, but there's nothing there.<<if $slynth > 5>> When I turn back, however, I gasp at the sensation of something moving on my back! I twist my torso to see what has lighted upon my lower back and see a lily-topped green face close to mine.\n\n"Hello," whispers the slynth. "I am Leel."\n\n"Ah! Hello!" I struggle not to panic. I have never been ridden before. "It's... you are..."\n\n"I like you." The slynth darts forward and kisses me on the lips, xyr smooth green flesh cool against mine. When xe breaks the kiss and murmurs, "live and drink," I am too stunned to respond.\n\nThen the slynth is gone.<<set $slynth += 999>><<set $wisp += 1>><<endif>>\n\n[[(back to the road)|convoy]]
"Let us speak further, Oung," I suggest.\n\n"If it is not too painful," Oung says, "I would fain hear the story of your journey to Qud, and your meeting of the late Dernhind, may he ever drink the sweet waters of the hereafter."\n\n"You really want to hear it?"\n\n"I do. You are far more interesting than you believe, faundren."\n\nI blink, surprised at the dromad's knowledge of the hindren term for children. "Well. I had run away from the Cervidian Meadows, having had my fill of that calcified society..."\n\nI tell [[the story of my arrival in Qud|http://inurashii.xyz/qud-guide.html]], and both Oung and her slynth consort listen in rapt silence, drinking in the tale. When I am finished, my host bows her head, heaving a slow sigh.\n\n"A cruel introduction to our cruel lands. I am sorry you had to endure it, faundren Khashind."\n\nI can do little more than whisper "thank you."<<set $time += 3; $slynth += 2; $storytold = true>>
"Khashind, do you have a few moments? I have a story I'd like to tell you. It is not a happy story, but it is mine."\n\nThough startled by her suddenly forthcoming demeanor, I immediately nod. "Yes, I'd like that."\n\n"I have been called Wisp for as long as I remember," she says. "My birth parents, disgusted by my albinism and convinced my life would be short and inconvenient, abandoned me among the canvas tents of the Six Day Stilt."\n\n"That's terrible," I murmur.\n\n"Yes. Many people are terrible," Wisp agrees. "I earned my food and water by begging, making myself scarce when the Mechanimist Protectors came by to run me off. But as I had nowhere else to go, I never left. Though I expected to be driven off into the desert, I suppose the holy folk had enough compassion not to do that to a child."\n\n[[(listen)|wisp-story2][$time += 1]]
<h2>Vapor and Salt</h2><h3>a [[Caves of Qud|http://freeholdgames.com/?page_id=39]] interactive story\nby Caelyn Sandman</h3>\nI ride with the [[convoy]].
The meeting with the Mechanimist leaders goes smoothly. Oung is every inch the charismatic leader, graciously lavish with her praise and graciously accepting of our rewards. She turns to distribute the pay between her mercenaries, and the Librarian of the Stilt, Sheba Hagadias, leads the hoversled palanquin away.\n\n"So, what now, Khashind?" Thom asks me as we walk away.\n\n"I think I may while away my time in the stiltgrounds a bit," I reply, "partake of hookah and wine, and rich foods. I have earned it."\n\n"Aye, we have all earned that at the very least," he replies with a smirk. "You will remember us, yes?"\n\n"Of course, Thom. I'm sure I'll see you all again. Live and drink."\n\n"Live and drink, Khashind."\n\n[[(ending)|ending]]
Time: <<$time>>\nWisp: <<$wisp>>\nSlynth: <<$slynth>>\nStorytold: <<$storytold>>
"Praise Shekinah, we actually made it!" Thom whoops and laughs, throwing both arms around me in an enthusiastic hug. "It has been such a joy working with you all!"\n\n"You too," I manage, laughing.\n\nSuddenly, there are more thin, cool fingers than I can count prying me free of the artificer's grip—some curly and green, some pointed and white.\n\n"Now Thom," Wisp admonishes, "you might damage our hindren."\n\n"Yours?" Thom blinks in surprise.\n\n"Ours," hisses Leel the slynth, smiling broadly.\n\n"Do I get a say in my status as a possession?" I ask, faking indignation. In truth, my heart is singing.\n\n"You //had// your say," Wisp replies, eyes crinkled with mirth.\n\n"Well, I saw //half// of this coming," Oung admits from her howdah perch, "but I suppose it makes sense after all. Ah well. Good luck, faundren; those two are like to be as hazardous to your life as they are protective of it."\n\n"I gathered."\n\n"Now!" Oung barks. "Look lively! We're about to meet with the second most important Mechanimist alive. I want every last one of you on your best behavior if you want your pay."\n\n"Yes, Oung!" We all say at once.\n\n[[(denouement)|friendship2][$ending = "strange and familiar"]]
Wisp carries one dagger for each of her four long-fingered hands, each one sheathed on the sides of her chest.\n\nTwo of the daggers consist only of triggered wooden hilts, and I recognize them as gaslight kris knives; when Wisp depresses the triggers, a glowing sinewave of energy will spring forth from each, ready to cut through armor and foe.\n\nFor foes with even thicker protection, I note the black plastic handle of a vibro dagger, whose shimmering blue edge can part fullerite plate as easily as a salthopper mandible parts flesh.\n\nThe fourth dagger I do not recognize. It looks worn, and strange designs are carved into the hilt.\n\nI wonder at the raw destructive power borne by the tiny blades that Wisp wields in comparison to my own battle axe of heavy fullerite.\n\n[[(keep examining Wisp)|The Mercenary Called Wisp][$time += 1]]\n[[(speak to Wisp)]]\n[[(leave her be)|convoy][$time += 1]]
Multihued light dances across the surface of Wisp's cloak as its surface catches the light of the high salt sun, seeming to ripple and swim as she moves.\n\nThe colorful reflective cloak stands in peculiar contrast with the mercenary herself, who clearly favors slate-grey and brown for the rest of her attire.\n\n[[(keep examining Wisp)|The Mercenary Called Wisp][$time += 1]]\n[[(speak to Wisp)]]\n[[(leave her be)|convoy][$time += 1]]
"I... I'm sorry, Wisp, I don't know that I'm ready for that kind of bond," I reply. "I hope I haven't offended you."\n\n"Not at all, Khashind," Wisp replies, "it is not a thing to be taken lightly. Think on it, and let me know if you should change your mind."\n\n"I will, thank you."\n\n<<wisp-chat>>
With a loud //whomp// and a flash of light, a wide radius of the robots go limp.\n\n"Remember your makers, wayward children!" Brandishing his grenade launcher, Thom o'Chrome whoops and sends several more EMP grenades hurtling into the ranks. At the same time, a burst of qudzu erupts in the ranks at a gesture from Oung's slynth, twining around robots and rendering them useless with rust. Wisp and I fall on the disabled units, destroying them with ease.\n\n"We're doing it!" Thom cries in triumph. "We're winning!"\n\nAs if on cue, a massive pyramid of shining chrome appears out of thin air with a kind of reverse whooshing sound, and the air and light around it shimmers, seeming to crumple in fear.\n\n"By the Eaters," Wisp murmurs, letting her daggers drop into the sand. "It's massive."\n\n"It's going to missile swarm us!" Thom shouts. "We're done for, Shekinah forgive us!"\n\n[[(charge)|one last trick]]\n[[(run)|one last trick]]
Even the limbs of these great horses bulge with enough muscle to churn most creatures that fall under their hooves into mincemeat.\n\nOnce, in my early days of wandering, I accidentally winged an equimax with an arrow whilst aiming for a snapjaw.\n\nI had never run so fast or far in my life.\n\n[[(keep walking)|convoy][$time += 1]]
<<if visited() is 1>>"Would you remind me of what we're doing here?" I ask.\n\n"We are transporting a baetyl to the Six Day Stilt," Oung replies.\n\n"This I know," I reply, "but //why// are we doing so? Every baetyl I have met seems content to rest in its place underground. Is Eschelstadt the Second seeking a baetyl to speak with?"\n\n"No," Oung replies with a sly gleam in her eye, "the baetyl itself requested this job."\n\n"The baetyl!" I exclaim, surprised.\n\n"Aye. I received word from a contact of mine, a mopango named Dolynnae, that his people had unearthed a particularly unusual baetyl, one which knew the name of Sheba Hagadias and asked repeatedly to speak to her."\n\n"The Librarian of the Stilt," I murmur, puzzled. "Does the baetyl wish to discuss literature?"\n\n"I know not," Oung replies, "but when I brought this news to Sheba, she consented to meet with the baetyl, and I will be rewarded by both."\n\n"I see."<<else>>"I'm sorry, so we're doing this job because..."\n\n"A sparking baetyl found by the pangolin-mole diggers bade us bring it to the Six Day Stilt that it may speak with the Librarian Sheba Hagadias."\n\n"It is no less confusing when repeated," I admit.\n\nOung grins. "Nor less exciting."<<endif>>\n\n<<oung-talk>>
"I overheard your story," Wisp says, "as you were telling it to Oung. I thought you should know."\n\n"Oh." My heart skips a beat. Will she think less of me for my cowardice? Will she consider me a liability?\n\n"It's sad," she continues, "that you were forced from your home. I'm sorry."\n\n"... thank you." I exhale a breath I didn't realize I was holding.\n\n"You and I are the same," she tells me, fixing her foggy white pupils on mine. "Our hearts are callused from a past that ill-suited us, but we go forth to make things better for others."\n\n"Oh." I blink a few times. "That's true. I'm glad you think so, Wisp, thank you."\n\n"I'm only truth-telling."<<set $wisp += 2>>\n\n<<wisp-chat>>
I stammer, lick my lips, and nod. "Yes," I croak out, throat suddenly drier than usual.\n\n"Good." She cups her two lower hands, and pours a small pool of water into them from the waterskin held in her upper one. She extends the water to me. "Your thirst is mine, my water is yours. Live and Drink, Khashind."\n\nI lower my lips to her thin fingers and drink of the water, slightly briny from the salt of her hands.\n\nI hand her my own waterskin, then, and she pours a dram into my cupped hands as I speak: "Your thirst is mine, my water is yours. Live and Drink, Wisp."\n\nHer lips are cool against my fingers as she drinks.\n\n"We are bonded kith, now," she says, smiling. "I swear to protect and support you."\n\n"And I you."<<set $wisp += 999>>\n\n<<wisp-chat>>
<<if visited() is 1>>"Khashind, I have a request of you," Wisp tells me.\n\n"Oh? What is it?" I ask, curious.\n\nShe reaches up and pulls the leather mask from her face. Beneath it, her nose is small and flat, her lips full and pale. Another of her hands raises, holding a waterskin.\n\n"I would like to share water with you."\n\nMy eyes widen. "Really? Me?"\n\nThe Ice Spider, whom I met only today, smiles warmly. "Yes, you. I trust you, Khashind, and would be your water-kin if you will accept me."<<else>>"Have you changed your mind, friend hindren?" Wisp asks. "Will you share water with a fellow wanderer-orphan?"<<endif>>\n\n[[(accept)|wisp-ritual][$time += 1]]\n[[(demur)|wisp-demur]]
Flickering shards of light are all that remains of Wisp's shield, and her breath is ragged with the effort of her mental exertions... but we stand, and the surface of the chrome pyramid is pockmarked and blackened by its own missile strike.\n\nBut it still stands, and as the holes in its surface close, another set opens, and it vibrates the very air with its cold, dead rage.\n\n"It's just going to fire again!" Thom's voice is faint through my ringing ears.\n\n"No," Wisp rasps, and throws her arms skyward again, once again encasing us in a corridor of protective light.\n\nThe pyramid fires another volley, which explodes right next to its surface, halted by the shield. When the dust clears, the pyramid is even more damaged and we are unhurt.\n\nExcept Wisp, who can barely stand now.\n\n[[(help her up)|coup de grace]]
I think of the great, sparking, oddly-shaped stone hidden under that pup tent and find myself suppressing a shudder. I cannot lie, I have been afeared of baetyls since I heard one's imperious voice commanding me.\n\nPerhaps I am a bigot for saying so, but I do not feel as though rocks should speak, nor make demands of ordinary folk. Nonetheless, I am contracted to see this particular baetyl to safety, and so I shall.\n\n[[(back to the road)|convoy][$time += 1]]
The meeting with the Mechanimist leaders goes smoothly. Oung is every inch the charismatic leader, graciously lavish with her praise and graciously accepting of our rewards. She turns to distribute the pay between her mercenaries, and the Librarian of the Stilt, Sheba Hagadias, leads the hoversled palanquin away.\n\n"And so our task is done, my kith," Wisp says, falling into step beside me and reaching up to stroke one of Leel's fronds.\n\n"So it is, water-kin," I reply, looking back and earning a smooth-faced nuzzle from the slynth. "Will you be all right walking the stiltgrounds, Wisp? I imagine this place holds strange memories for you."\n\n"Aye, as many as there are coils of fractus," Wisp replies with a sigh, "but I'll be all right. I am a different person now, even if by the same name, and for the first time in my life, I am here with companions. You will walk with me, yes?"\n\n"Yes. Would you like to see whether our green friend is amenable to mint smoke and wine, water-kin?"\n\n"Smelling the hookah tents, are you? Yes, kith, let's do that."\n\n[[(ending)|ending]]
I decide against using an injector. I might need to salve myself later, and mixing tonics is a dangerous game. I shift the chaingun strapped to my back so that it is in easy reach and unsling the massive fullerite battle axe into my hands.\n\nI am ready.<<set $tonic = "none">>\n\n<<action>>
"Praise Shekinah, we actually made it!" Thom whoops and laughs, throwing both arms around me in an enthusiastic hug. "It has been such a joy working with you all!"\n\n"You too," I manage, laughing.\n\n"The sentiment is shared," Wisp says coolly, "and I look forward to working with each of you again in the future."\n\n"Hey now, save the goodbyes for when you actually get paid!" Oung calls down from her howdah, and her slynth peeks up and giggles. "You all behave for the Mechanimists, now."\n\n"Of course, Oung," Wisp replies.\n\nI heave a great sigh, looking at the cheering crowd awaiting us. In spite of Oung's chastisement, I feel nothing but relief. We have done it.\n\n[[(denouement)|hero2][$ending = "hero's welcome"]]
Rumors swirl around Thom o'Chrome, leaving tracks far greater than the three pairs of tracks that he leaves behind him in the salt sand. In person, however, he seems simply to be a man.\n\nEvery object on Thom's person shows him to be an accomplished and dedicated tinkerer: he wears a [[pocketed vest]] in place of armor, and his nimble hands are coated in the familiar matte black of elastyne. In place of a helmet or a hat, he wears a [[peculiar metal visor]] that sprouts a pair of spiral antennae, and a deactivated pair of [[night vision goggles]] obscure his eyes.\n\nStrapped to Thom's back is a reddish-brown [[rifle]] with a rectangular scope prism atop it, and a simple [[stun rod]] hangs near his hip.\n\n[[(speak to Thom)]]\n[[(leave him be)|convoy][$time += 1]]
The meeting with the Mechanimist leaders goes smoothly. Oung is every inch the charismatic leader, graciously lavish with her praise and graciously accepting of our rewards. She turns to distribute the pay between her mercenaries, and the Librarian of the Stilt, Sheba Hagadias, leads the hoversled palanquin away.\n\n"And so our task is done, my kith," Wisp says, falling into step beside me.\n\n"So it is, water-kin," I reply. "Will you be all right walking the stiltgrounds? I imagine this place holds strange memories for you."\n\n"Aye, as many as there are coils of fractus," Wisp replies with a sigh, "but I'll be all right. I am a different person now, even if by the same name. You will walk with me, yes?"\n\n"Of course, kin." I say with a smile. "By your side when you need me, ever forward."\n\n[[(ending)|ending]]
This time, Wisp speaks without prompting. "How are you, Khashind?"\n\n"I... I'm fine, thank you."\n\n"Good. Please take care." \n\n<<wisp-chat>>
"Actually, never mind," I say.\n\n"All right then!" He laughs. "Live and drink, Khashind."\n\n"Live and drink, Thom."\n\n[[(back to walking)|convoy]]
I gently lift Wisp by her upper right arm, and she leans heavily against my side. We look up in time to see the pyramid's apertures opening anew. But there's a crack in the shimmering force around it, and we are not the only ones who noticed.\n\nThom's EMP grenade flashes the brightest of any so far, sending a shudder through the pyramid, which falters in midair, its apertures freezing mid-opening.\n\nWisp and I take the hint, sending all of the ranged firepower we have at the pyramid. My chaingun roars in my hands, and Wisp casts bolts of killing light. The pyramid resists the onslaught at first, but its sides buckle and then collapse, letting out an agonized groan before shuddering to complete stillness.\n\nMy shoulders sag in [[(relief)|pyramid defeated]].
I recall seeing a weird visor like this in a store once, a weird contraption that seemed like nothing so much as a gross of collected arc-sconce filaments stuck together.\n\nThe shopkeep called it a 'ganglionic teleprojector', but their explanation of what it did flew straight over my head. Something about robots, perhaps.\n\n[[(keep examining Thom)|Thom o'Chrome][$time += 1]]\n[[(speak to Thom)]]\n[[(leave him be)|convoy][$time += 1]]
I gallop to the front line. I've no doubt that Wisp is a deadlier weapon than I, but my hale 'taur stock and months of hard exercise have rendered me a metal-swathed meat shield, easy to hit but hard to bring down.\n\nThey're almost upon us.\n\n[[(axe attack)]]\n[[(chaingun attack)]]
Caelyn Sandman
"What do you think of this job?" I ask. "Of Oung?"\n\n"Oung is a good friend and a good mind," Wisp replies, "and I am pleased to be on this journey."\n\n"Why's that?"\n\nShe tilts her head and is silent a few moments before responding. "I appreciate unique experiences, particularly when they benefit people I care about."<<set $wisp += 1>>\n\n<<wisp-chat>>
Some time later, we are ready to set off again.\n\nThom has salvaged as much of the scrap and spare weaponry from our attackers as he can. Wisp perches in her spot on the hoversled palanquin, gingerly tending to her wounds as I tend to mine. We drink from our stores of water in blissful silence as the ringing in our ears fades.\n\nWe resume our journey with minimal fanfare.\n\nIt feels strange to simply move on after coming so close to all of our deaths, but what alternative do we have?\n\n[[(back to the road)|convoy][$time = 120]]\n
<<if visited() is 1>>"Khashind, would you like to hear of the sortie that made me known as a mercenary?"\n\n"I would!" I grin.\n\n"It all began when I visited the historic site of Turqunip, just to see it. I was immediately beset by the Sultanic Cult that had decided that the site was theirs alone, and would not tolerate tourism. They came at me with deadly force, and I responded in kind."\n\n"I don't imagine that went particularly well for them."\n\n"I was green, so it was a tough fight, but you are correct. They were no match for me, in the end. I later learned that the cult had been antagonizing nearly every faction they had relations with, and my extermination of their lot immediately ingratiated me to dozens of leaders I had never met."\n\nI laugh. "You became a famous mercenary by accident?"\n\n"Indeed I did."<<else if visited() is 2>>"Is it true that you are a friend to dawngliders?"\n\nWisp chuckles. "Aye, birds and unshelled reptiles adore me, and dawngliders are affiliated with both."\n\n"How did you pull that off?"\n\n"It involved a miscommunication, my slaying of a dawnglider leader in self-defense, inflation of the story, and further miscommunication that somehow turned out in my favor."\n\nI gape. "How...?"\n\n"I cannot even begin to guess, Khashind."<<else>>Wisp and I pass the time talking about her adventures and mine. By the end of our conversation, my cheeks hurt from laughter.\n\nI rarely form water-bonds, but with Wisp it is clear that I have made a good decision in doing so.<<endif>>\n\n<<set $time += 2>><<wisp-chat>>
"If you wish to ask me questions," I say, "I will answer."\n\n"Ahh, good!" Oung and her slynth appear visibly pleased. "So! I already know a few things of you: first, that you are a hindren pariah—this is obvious, since you are hindren and you are here. Second, you are //hartind//, a two-gender creature, your hormonal balance controlled by a mix of tonics."\n\n"I was //hartind// before I had access to my transition tonics, but yes," I reply. "In the meadows, I had no idea such tonics even existed."\n\n"Fascinating! I also know of you that you were friend to the late Dernhind, may he ever drink of the clear waters of heaven."\n\nI sigh. "I was friends with Dernhind for a shorter time than I wished. But I consider him my brother all the same."\n\n"I see, I see. My condolences."<<set $slynth += 1>>
I squint against the high salt sun. It is terribly hot, and the padding under my carbide armor is soaked with sweat and likely smells to high heaven. I long to peel the armor off and let my sweat dissipate in the salty air, but I cannot. I have a job to do.\n\nMy name is Khashind. I am a hindren mercenary, and I am contracted to protect this convoy.\n\n[[(begin)]]
"Just passing the time and seeking good company," I say, smiling up at Oung. The slynth smiles back. <<set $slynth += 1>>\n\n"How lovely!" Oung replies. "This gives me the opportunity to ask about you."\n\n"Oh, I'm not so interesting," I protest.\n\n"Don't be ridiculous, my dear. You are fascinating, and I would ask a few questions of you."\n\nI ponder the dromad's request as we walk.
This massive tortoise stands as large as some huts, and I feel each footfall of its gigantic flattened feet through my carbide boots. I had not seen a single saltback until I left the Cervidian Meadows, but now I have seen a dozen; a welcome sight, usually, heralding the presence of lifesaving dromad caravans.\n\nWhile it is hardly unusual to see a howdah on the back of a great saltback, it is a bit strange for a dromad and her consort to be the only occupants.\n\nBut no one would ever accuse Oung of being ordinary.\n\n[[(keep walking)|convoy][$time += 1]]
"Praise Shekinah, we actually made it!" Thom whoops and laughs, throwing both arms around me in an enthusiastic hug. "It has been such a joy working with you all!"\n\n"You too," I manage, laughing.\n\nThen suddenly, Thom's arms are being pried off of me by thin tendril-fingers, eliciting a surprised yelp from him as the slynth once again perched on my back shoves him away.\n\n"Mine," Leel whispers.\n\n"Well!" Oung calls down, guffawing. "This was bound to happen sometime. Good luck, faundren; you'll not be rid of them now."\n\n"Wait, what?" Wild-eyed, I turn to look at Leel, who grins and nuzzles my face. "What?"\n\n"You're Leel's now, like xe said. And like I said, good luck. Now wipe that silly look off your face and look lively for the Mechanimists."\n\n[[(denouement)|flower power2][$ending = "a greener future"]]
<<set $slynth += 1>><<if visited() is 1>>"How fares our fine host?" I call up, smiling. The slynth smiles back at me, the long line of its thin mouth curling up at the ends.\n\n"I have all of the food and water I need, I am surrounded by deadly and handsome mercenaries, and I undertake the most fascinating job of my career to date! Khashind, I could not be better."\n\nI duck my head slightly to hide my blush at the compliment. "You flatter your entourage."\n\n"Were I not so comfortable up here, I would climb down and prove my claim," she replies, a smug smile on her face. The slynth titters, amused.\n\nMy open-faced carbide helm is in no way prepared to protect me from the flirtations of a crafty dromad, nor to hide my flush.<<else if visited() is 2>>"Are you still well?" I ask.\n\n"Happy as a salthopper in a pig farm."\n\nI make a face at the gruesome analogy, but the slynth grins, seeming to like it.<<else>>"How fare you, Oung?"\n\n"You seem to be asking me that a lot!" She looks down with a critical eye. "Is there something I need to know?"\n\n"Not at all! I simply want to make sure you travel in comfort."\n\n"Gracious. Only Leel dotes over me so. No wonder xe seems to like you so much. Worry not, dear faundren, I am well."\n\nThe slynth peers over the edge of the howdah and grins at me.<<endif>>\n\n<<oung-talk>>
<<if visited() is 1>>Thom sees you approach and smiles. "Hail and good day, fellow mercenary. You are called Khashind, correct?"\n\n"I am," I reply, smiling back, "and you are Thom o'Chrome."\n\n"That I am. Live and drink, friend hindren."\n\n"Live and drink, friend human."\n\n"Now that we're through pleasantries," Thom says with a friendly grin, "what can I do for you, Khashind?"<<else>>"Hoy, Thom o'Chrome."\n\n"Hoy, Khashind. What may I do for you in this moment?"<<endif>>\n\n[[(chat)|thom-chat][$time += 2]]\n[[(ask how Thom is doing)|thom-howareyou][$time += 2]]\n[[(ask about the job)|thom-job][$time += 1]]<<if visited("Oung")>>\n[[(ask about Oung)|thom-oung][$time += 2]]<<endif>><<if visited("The Mercenary Called Wisp")>>\n[[(ask about Wisp)|thom-wisp][$time += 2]]<<endif>><<if visited("oung-thom")>>\n[[(ask about Thom's past)|thom-past][$time += 2]]<<endif>>\n[[(never mind)|thom-nm][$time += 1]]
<<if visited() is 1>>"What do you think of Thom o'Chrome?" I ask.\n\nOung lowers her voice. "Well, don't tell him I said so, but he dresses like a Priest of Oboroqoru who picked clothing in the dark." Her consort snickers.\n\nI flush. "I don't mean his fashion sense."\n\n"I know, dear, I'm teasing. I am pleased to have Thom o'Chrome with us. You won't find a better tinker for hire."\n\n"He is True Kin, yes?" I ask. "Did he come from an arcology?"\n\n"He did. Thom was once a member of the Artifex Caste in the icy halls of Ibul," Oung replies, "but left years ago for reasons he will not share. It may be because of his friendliness toward his mutated brethren... or perhaps vice versa. Whatever the case, he is quite friendly and an easy conversationalist, so I'm doubly glad to have him with us."<<else>>"Has Thom really said nothing about his past in the Ibul arcology?" I ask.\n\n"Only that he was an Artifex. He will say nothing else. Why bother him about his past when his present is so much more interesting?"<<endif>>\n\n<<oung-talk>>
The mercenary called Wisp would be physically unimposing to an untrained eye. She is as skinny as a prophet of Ptoh, a bundle of thin limbs connecting to a bent, frail torso, all wrapped in a thin layer of [[elastyne and nanoweave]]. Her bone-blonde hair snakes to her waist in a single thin braid, and a [[brown leather mask]] covers her facial features from the nose down, [[milky-white eyes]] peering out over it from alabaster skin.\n\nWhatever physical frailty might mislead, however, is offset by the six bands criss-crossing her flat chest, each one ending in a sheath or holster and bearing a solar cell mounted on the front. Four sheaths sprout a [[quartet of dagger-hilts]] down her torso, and at her hips are holstered [[a pair of glowing pistols]]. Cascading from her back, a [[shimmering cloak]] spills under her.\n\n[[(speak to Wisp)]]\n[[(leave her be)|convoy][$time += 1]]
"May we speak further, Oung?"\n\nThe dromad grins. "Of course, fair Khashind! Would you like to hear a story of my travels?"\n\n"I would!"\n\nOung launches into a wildly exaggerated tale of her time walking the salt flats and the areas around it. It is hard to know how much of it is true, save that there must be some falsehoods for the story to make sense.\n\nThe slynth sleeps through the story, but I listen the whole way.
"Well, I should go back to keeping watch," I say, "but it was lovely talking to you."\n\n"The pleasure was all mine, dear," Oung says. "Live and drink, Khashind."\n\n"Live and drink," I echo.\n\n[[(back to the road)|convoy][$time += 1]]
The calm of our journey is interrupted by a shrill noise coming from Thom o'Chrome's goat. Rather, the noise comes from the goat's //pack//, for the creature's mouth is closed and it looks as startled as the rest of us.\n\n"My long-distance sensors!" Thom shouts, rushing to the goat and pulling a screened device from its pack. A moment later, the alarm stops and Thom looks up and points at a distant cloud of dust. "There's a large party inbound."\n\nWisp is on her feet in a single fluid motion. "Not the Issachari, surely," she mutters. "They wouldn't be so foolish—"\n\n"Robots!" Oung shouts, her extended spyglass pointed at the crowd. "It's a fucking army of chrome soldiers! Everyone fortify, //now!// Protect the baetyl at all costs!"\n\n[[(we leap to action)|attacked2]]
[[(chat)|oung-chat][$time += 2]]\n[[(ask how Oung is)|oung-howareyou][$time += 2]]\n[[(ask about the job)|oung-baetyl][$time += 2]]<<if visited("The Mercenary Called Wisp")>>\n[[(ask about Wisp)|oung-wisp][$time += 2]]<<endif>><<if visited("Thom o'Chrome")>>\n[[(ask about Thom o'Chrome)|oung-thom][$time += 2]]<<endif>>\n[[(bid goodbye)|oung-bye][$time += 1]]
I lay into the enemy with my axe next to Wisp's whirling quartet of blades, my <<if $tonic is "hulk">>enhanced<<else>>considerable<<endif>> strength laying waste to the plastic spheroids, then the bipedal metal figures behind them. The plastronoids burst into ball lightning as I destroy them, <<if $tonic is "hulk">>but I scarcely feel it through my dulled nerves<<else if $tonic is "rubber">>but my rubberized skin resists the charge<<else>>sending painful shocks through my muscles and sending me reeling.<<endif>>\n\n<<if $tonic is "none">>As the pain and wear grow too intense, I cease my attacks for long enough to draw a salve injector from my belt and jam it into my neck, sending a cool healing flow through my veins. Unfortunately, it's not fast enough, and the pain of the continued attacks threatens to overcome my senses. I look up into the raised, screaming blade-arm of a sawhander.\n\nThere's a flash and a white-blue blur, and the killer robot falls to pieces before my very eyes. I feel a cold hand over my mouth, forcing something between my lips. I bite down by instinct and feel a rush of juice along with a rush of relief as my wounds heal even faster.\n\nWisp slaps me on the back as I hoist my axe again. "Get back out there."<<else>>At my side, I can see that Wisp has taken a few strong hits of electricity, grounded somewhat by her elastyne outfit but still shaken by the attacks. I hear a familiar, terrifying whine and see the raised blade-arm of a sawhander, ready to cleave her to pieces.\n\nWith a roar, I swing my axe with all of my might, bringing the massive slab of sharpened fullerite down on the killer robot's arm, tearing it from its moorings.\n\nPanting, Wisp slips a healing berry into her mouth, nods to me, and spins her daggers. "Thanks."<<set $wisp += 2>><<endif>>\n\nBefore either of us can do aught else, Wisp's shield falters and falls. The robots surge past and around us, and we brace for the worst, back to back.\n\n[[(then, suddenly)|EMP]]
The russet-colored gun on Thom's back is called an Eigenrifle, a powerful laser cannon that throws a lance of raw light so strong that it may run an enemy through, come out the other side, and strike another behind it. I have seen one fired on a pack of Naaphthali, felling half a dozen in a single shot and destroying their chrome idol patron with a second.\n\nI considered purchasing one myself while I was shopping, but the price was well beyond my means even if I were to trade in my trusty chaingun. Besides, I'm used to carrying a bushel of slugs on my back and it would be unfamiliar and strange to switch over to batteries.\n\nStill... it is a very nice gun.\n\n[[(keep examining Thom)|Thom o'Chrome][$time += 1]]\n[[(speak to Thom)]]\n[[(leave him be)|convoy][$time += 1]]
"There came a day when I realized that I had a talent for machines. I lacked the learning of an artificer such as Thom, but I discovered that if I touched a simple machine, I could sense the history of its creation and mimic it. It was the first mutation since my albinism."\n\n"Psychometry," I murmur.\n\n"Aye. I learned how to use my visions to build simple things, and found myself earning drams by craft for the first time in my life. The schematic drafters of the Stilt didn't care for that, but they could hardly catch me, and those who knew how to look for me brought me business. Then there was the day that the mysterious stranger came through."\n\n[[(listen)|wisp-story3][$time += 1]]
"She was a slynth, like Oung's consort. But taller, leaner, more weathered. She carried a pair of revolvers, which she unholstered and handed to me grip-first. I saw that the guns were terribly rusted, clearly from a qudzu attack. I touched the guns and learned their make, then told the slynth that I would need to make a new pair of guns, and that it was an expensive job that I had barely enough parts to accomplish. She went very still at that."\n\nI was rapt. "What then?"\n\n"She unhooked an old, big dagger in its sheath from her belt and handed it to me. At once, I realized that there was something special about the knife, like the Fates had their eyes upon it. An inscription on the scabbard declared it 'The Lucky Dirk of Synod Castle'." She rested her hand on the strange wood-handled knife at her side. "I accepted the deal, and made a pair of brand new chrome revolvers for the slynth. She went on her way, but she had left me with more than just a strange dagger."\n\n"What else did she leave you with?"\n\n"Wanderlust."\n\n[[(listen)|wisp-story4][$time += 1]]
"Once I had the supplies to make them, I created a pair of revolvers for myself, just as I had for the slynth. I wrapped myself in a light cloak and a wide-brimmed hat and walked into the salt."\n\n"And that brings us to today," I surmise.\n\n"More or less," she says, eyes crinkling a bit. "With a few minor details in between. They once called me Wisp because I was like a pale ghost. Now it is because I arrive like a cold wind, impossible to hit and deadly sharp."\n\n"Look how far you've come. Thank you for sharing your story, Wisp."\n\n"Thank you for listening, Khashind."<<set $wisp += 3>>\n\n<<wisp-chat>>
"Praise Shekinah, we actually made it!" Thom whoops and laughs, throwing both arms around me in an enthusiastic hug. "It has been such a joy working with you all!"\n\n"You too," I manage, laughing.\n\n"Now, Thom," admonishes Wisp, gently disentangling me from his grip. "Be gentle with my bonded kith."\n\n"Wait, really?" Thom stares at me. "You? And her? Water...?"\n\n"Is that a problem, Thom?" I try to sound serious, but I'm grinning. "The innocent faundren bound in trust to the deadly mercenary?"\n\n"As if it weren't obvious," Oung calls down from her howdah, "now shut up and get ready to meet the Mechanimists. I want you lot on your best behavior if you want your pay."\n\n"Yes, Oung," Wisp and I say simultaneously.\n\n[[(denouement)|water-kin2][$ending = "shared water"]]
The faintly glowing amber spheres welded to the side of their barrel jackets reveal Wisp's guns to be a pair of modified laser pistols, their power rerouted to fire more powerful blasts than they ever could unmodified.\n\nThis explains the many batteries that the mercenary carries; those pistols must chew through energy the way my chaingun chews through ammunition.\n\n[[(keep examining Wisp)|The Mercenary Called Wisp][$time += 1]]\n[[(speak to Wisp)]]\n[[(leave her be)|convoy][$time += 1]]
Wisp's eyes are milky-white from pupil to iris to sclera, almost seeming to glow in in the harsh sun. I am reminded that her eyes' strange appearance belies their ability to see—she turns to look at me, realizing that I am examining her.\n\nI look away quickly.\n\n[[(keep examining Wisp)|The Mercenary Called Wisp][$time += 1]]\n[[(speak to Wisp)]]\n[[(leave her be)|convoy][$time += 1]]
<<if visited() is 1>>"Hoy, Oung!" I call. "Got a moment?"\n\nOung peers down at me, then down at the rope ladder running down the saltback's side. She calls out in her brassy alto. "I suppose there's no sense in calling you up here?"\n\n"I'm afraid not." My body is not built for ladders.\n\n"Well then, we shall talk like this," she replies, broad lips breaking into a smile. At her side, a shiny green face topped with a giant lily-flower appears, looking down at me. Oung reaches over and strokes the slynth's petals, earning a low, wordless chitter from xem. "Khashind, was it?"\n\n"Aye, that's me."\n\n"You wished to speak to me? What of?"<<else>>"Hoy, Oung!" I call.\n\nOung looks over. "Khashind! Have a question, or merely passing the time?"<<endif>>\n\n[[(just passing the time)|oung-chat][$time += 2]]\n[[(ask how Oung is)|oung-howareyou][$time += 2]]\n[[(ask about the job)|oung-baetyl][$time += 2]]<<if visited("The Mercenary Called Wisp")>>\n[[(ask about Wisp)|oung-wisp][$time += 2]]<<endif>><<if visited("Thom o'Chrome")>>\n[[(ask about Thom o'Chrome)|oung-thom][$time += 2]]<<endif>>\n[[(never mind)|oung-nm][$time += 1]]
"Actually, never mind. Sorry to bother you."\n\nOung's slynth frowns and disappears from sight. The dromad herself doesn't seem perturbed, though.\n\n"It's no trouble! Come by to chat whenever. Live and drink, Khashind."\n\n"Live and drink, Oung."\n\n[[(keep walking)|convoy][$slynth -= 1]]
<<if $wisp > 1000>>"I should return my attention to the road. Live and drink, water-kin."\n\nWisp bows her head. "Live and drink, water-kin."<<else if $wisp > 1>>"I'll return you to your privacy, then," I say, smiling. "Live and drink, Wisp."\n\n"It was nice to speak to you," she replies, nodding. "Live and drink, Khashind."<<else>>"Ah, sorry to have bothered you, Wisp," I say. "Live and drink."\n\nShe blinks slowly at me, then turns away. "It's fine. Live and drink."<<endif>>\n\n[[(back to the road)|convoy]]
Wisp darts to Thom's goat and the two exchange a handful of hushed words, then set about tinkering at blinding speed, constructing little glowing cylinders out of Thom's extensive collection of parts. I gently lead the equimax to the rear of our formation, keeping the baetyl as far removed as possible and helping Oung's slynth lead the great saltback into a blocking position.\n\nWhen I turn once again toward the horizon, I see the encroaching army, led by an uncharacteristically speedy charge of floating orbs, each one crackling with electricity.\n\nWisp stands still, daggers in her upper hands and pistols in her lower, waiting for the rush as Thom struggles to load a grenade launcher.\n\n[[(apply a rubbergum injector)]] (for electrical resistance)\n[[(apply a hulk honey injector)]] (for strength)\n[[(don't use a tonic)]] (to heal later)
Thom is the first one to spot the towering spire of the Six Day Stilt in the distance. "There it is! And the Mechanimists are already out to meet us!"\n\nSure enough, as we get closer I can spot a crowd of slate-colored frocks bustling in the setting sun, and a gleaming jewel among them: Eschelstadt II himself, seated on a palanquin carried by sweating choralers.\n\n"We've made it," I breathe.\n\n"Aye," Wisp agrees, now standing on the edge of the sled-platform.\n\n<<if ($wisp > 1000) and ($slynth > 1000)>>[[(strange and familiar)|friendship]]<<else if $wisp > 1000>>[[(shared water)|water-kin]]<<else if $slynth > 1000>>[[(a greener future)|flower power]]<<else>>[[(a hero's welcome)|hero]]<<endif>>
It seems peculiar that Thom would wear his night-vision goggles during the peak of the hot, bright day, but I also notice that he has made numerous changes to them: tiny, whirring fans serve to cool his face on either side of the goggles, and a series of aftermarket levers are labeled with different lens settings.\n\n[[(keep examining Thom)|Thom o'Chrome][$time += 1]]\n[[(speak to Thom)]]\n[[(leave him be)|convoy][$time += 1]]
Robots means the shock and pain of electricity, especially from the plastronoids leading the charge. I brace myself and jam the applicator of a rubbergum injector into my neck, then toss it aside as my skin becomes smooth, shiny, and pliable.\n\nI'm more apt to bleed if a sawhander comes at me, but ancient technology always walks hand-in-hand with risk. <<set $tonic = "rubber">>\n\n<<action>>
<<if visited() is 1>>"What do you think of Oung, then?"\n\n"I have nothing but praise for our shrewd and clever employer!" Thom declares.\n\n"I don't think she can hear you from here, Thom," I say, leaning back a bit.\n\nHe leans forward and lowers his voice. "She's a character, isn't she?"\n\n"Aye," I reply, "she is sharp as an injector, and charismatic as a choraler, but there are facets of her manner and tastes that are... inscrutable."\n\n"All the same, I //am// grateful for the opportunity she has provided. I have doubts that anyone else could arrange such a journey."\n\n"You may well be right, Thom."<<else if visited() is 2>>"Any other thoughts about Oung, Thom?"\n\nHe squints. "She keeps a slynth consort, does she not?"\n\n"Aye."\n\n"Do you imagine they... you know...?"\n\n"Miracle of miracles! My curiosity is suddenly extinguished!" I exclaim.\n\n"I mean, a dromad and a plant. Aren't you curious how—"\n\n"I have abandoned my home and risked my life, but it is only in this moment that I have come to know regret."<<else>>I consider once again asking Thom's opinion of Oung, but recall our last exchange on the subject and immediately change my mind.<<endif>>\n\n<<thom-talk>>
"You fought well in defense of the caravan," Wisp says with an incline of her head.\n\n"I did my best, but //you!// You were amazing!" I reply, utterly sincere.\n\n"I was," she replies, "but so were you. You are made of the stuff of heroes, Khashind."\n\n"W-well," I stammer, blushing.\n\n"Do not protest. You are."\n\nI shut my trap and nod.<<set $wisp += 2>>\n\n<<wisp-chat>>
Wisp's white braid emerges from the matte black surface of an elastyne skullcap, and her torso is protected by the smooth, tight weave of nanofibers. Her armor is designed to provide a layer of protection while still allowing her to move unhindered, an allowance that my strong carbide plate armor does not provide.\n\nI realize that even her fingerless gloves are optimized for quick performance: they are ulnar stimulators, each one electrically enhancing her strength and agility, and fitted with a prosthetic sixth finger to provide a surer grip and greater versatility.\n\n[[(keep examining Wisp)|The Mercenary Called Wisp][$time += 1]]\n[[(speak to Wisp)]]\n[[(leave her be)|convoy][$time += 1]]
<<if $wisp > 1000>>[[(chat with water-kin Wisp)|wisp-friend][$time += 1]]<<else if ($slynth > 2) and (visited("wisp-slynth") < 1)>>[[(speak with Wisp)|wisp-slynth][$time += 1]]<<else if (visited("oung-chat") > 2) and (visited("wisp-overheard") < 1)>>[[(speak with Wisp)|wisp-overheard][$time += 1]]<<else if ($time > 100) and (visited("wisp-defense") < 1)>>[[(speak with Wisp)|wisp-defense][$time += 1]]<<else if ($wisp > 3) and (visited("wisp-story") < 1)>>[[(speak with Wisp)|wisp-story][$time += 1]]<<else if ($wisp > 5) and ($time > 100)>>[[(speak with Wisp)|wisp-water][$time += 1]]<<else if $wisp > 1>>[[(speak with Wisp)|wisp-warmer][$time += 1]]<<else if $wisp > 0>>[[(speak with Wisp)|wisp-warming][$time += 1]]<<else>>[[(speak with Wisp)|wisp-cold][$time += 1]]<<endif>>\n[[(leave her be)|wisp-bye][$time += 1]]
"What about you, Thom? I would know more about you."\n\n"My life in Qud is as an open book!" Thom exclaims. "Everything you've heard is true. You'll not find a better tinker for hire, and I am as easy to get along with as they say!"\n\nI laugh. "You've had many adventures, I take it."\n\n"So many I can't remember them all!" he replies. "Though I cannot remember what I ate for breakfast yesterday, either—ah, cancel that, it was cucumber! I remember, because I'd recently made a trade with Yurl in Kyakyuya ere I recoiled to Joppa and made my way to our meeting place."\n\n"Well, I am relieved that we solved that mystery," I say, still holding back laughter.\n\n"We can all rest easier now," Thom agrees, grinning.
"Just passing the time. Wanted to chat."\n\n"Oh, how novel!" Thom exclaims. "Is this that 'small talk' I've heard so much about?"\n\n"I have no idea," I reply earnestly, "but let's try it and find out!"\n\n"Very well. Khashind, tell me about yourself! How did you come to be wandering Qud rather than tending the Cervidian Meadows with the rest of your people?"\n\n"Oh, many reasons." I shrug. It's an explanation I have become used to giving. "I felt wanderlust, I felt penned in, I was two-gender and the elders didn't care for it."\n\n"Two-gender, eh? How am I to refer to you, then?" Thom asks, with genuine interest. "He or she, or something else?"\n\n"Most folk go with 'they'," I reply.\n\n"Ah! So noted!"
Covered in pockets of every size, Thom's vest no doubt does little to protect his fragile body from the slings and arrows of daily existence in Qud, but he seems unconcerned.\n\nIt would appear that collecting gadgets is higher on his list of priorities than bodily integrity.\n\n[[(keep examining Thom)|Thom o'Chrome][$time += 1]]\n[[(speak to Thom)]]\n[[(leave him be)|convoy][$time += 1]]
<<if $slynth > 1000>>Wisp's eyes twinkle with mischief. "Did you enjoy it?"\n\n"I... what?"\n\n"The kiss," she replies. "Leel kissed you. I saw it."\n\nI flush deeply. "The slynth... you saw, uhm..."\n\nWisp lets a light giggle escape from under her mask, a peculiar and unsettling juxtaposition. "Did you enjoy it?"\n\nMy flush becomes even deeper. "Y-yes."\n\n"Good."\n\nMy mind races for a fresh subject.<<else>>Wisp leans forward and murmurs, "they like you."\n\nI blink, surprised. "I'm sorry, who are 'they'?"\n\n"Leel. Oung's consort."\n\n"The slynth?" I am no less surprised. "How do you know that they like me?"\n\n"They told me so," she replies.\n\nI reel. I have not seen Oung's slynth leave their howdah. When did they have a conversation? "I... see."<<endif>><<set $wisp += 1>>\n\n<<wisp-chat>>
Our host's head peeks up over the cloth wall of the howdah in which she rides. They say that eons ago, the dromad were naught but mindless pack ungulates bred for desert travel. Now, they are the intellectual and social superior to most other bipeds.\n\nMost dromad focus their efforts on mercantile ventures, the transport and trading of goods. Oung's sensibilities wander further afield, and the gleam in her eye is as creative as shrewd.\n\nI assume that Oung's only companion in the howdah is her slynth consort, but I cannot see xem to confirm.\n\n[[(call up to Oung)]]\n[[(leave her be)|convoy][$time += 1]]
"Do you have some time to chat?" I ask, and I can hear the caution in my voice.\n\nWisp raises a white-blonde eyebrow. "I doubt I appear busy."\n\n"Well, I don't want to bother you."\n\n"It's fine. What would you like to talk about?"\n\n"I..." my brain has emptied its contents. "I don't have anything in mind..."\n\nShe just stares.<<set $wisp += 1>>\n\n<<wisp-chat>>
At first, I find myself thinking it somewhat strange that Thom's high tech arsenal includes a humble stun rod, of the sort that I myself once wrenched from one of the drones guarding the tunnels of Grit Gate.\n\nUpon closer look, however, I see that Thom's stun rod has been further modified from its original purpose. The knob at the end of its telescoping length is pitted with holes from which a faint glow shines, as well as covered in a dozen small, sharp spikes. The letters 'ToC' are engraved on the weapon's grip, and you suspect that the tinker has put a great deal of work transforming a simple crowd-control tool into a deadly and versatile weapon.\n\n[[(keep examining Thom)|Thom o'Chrome][$time += 1]]\n[[(speak to Thom)]]\n[[(leave him be)|convoy][$time += 1]]
<<if visited() is 1>><<thom-chat1>><<else if visited() is 2>><<thom-chat2>><<else>><<thom-chat99>><<endif>>\n\n[[(chat further)|thom-chat][$time += 1]]\n[[(ask how Thom is doing)|thom-howareyou][$time += 1]]\n[[(ask about the job)|thom-job][$time += 1]]<<if visited("Oung")>>\n[[(ask about Oung)|thom-oung][$time += 1]]<<endif>><<if visited("The Mercenary Called Wisp")>>\n[[(ask about Wisp)|thom-wisp][$time += 1]]<<endif>><<if visited("oung-thom")>>\n[[(ask about Thom's past)|thom-past][$time += 1]]<<endif>>\n[[(that's all)|thom-bye][$time += 1]]
<<if visited() is 1>>"May I ask you a personal question, Thom?"\n\n"Aye, go ahead!" He smiles.\n\n"Is it true that you were once an Artifex of Ibul?"\n\nHis face falls, and he turns his head away from me. "Been talking to Oung, have you?"\n\n"I simply want to know more. What was it like living in an arcology?"\n\n"I don't wish to speak of it."\n\n"Thom, it's all right. I will not judge you."\n\nHe doesn't respond, and I realize that I would be best served by changing the subject.<<else>>"Will you truly refuse to tell me aught of your time in the arcology?" I plead.\n\nThom immediately looks away and refuses to speak.<<endif>>\n\n<<thom-talk>>
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As I tense my powerful legs to sprint, I feel cold hands on my arm. I turn and see Wisp's hazy eyes fixed on mine.\n\n"Trust me," she says. "Our story doesn't end here."\n\nI watch numbly as she takes two steps forward, then throws both of her hands skyward, sending a force wall... forward. Connecting us to the great chrome pyramid in shimmering light, as if protecting all of us.\n\nA dozen holes appear on the surface of the pyramid, and there is a great hissing //fwoosh// as it looses a bank of deadly missiles—\n\nAll of which collide with the barrier, right next to the pyramid itself. Multiple deafening explosions tear the air, and I shield my eyes against the punishing wave of sand, light, and sound.\n\n[[(the air clears)|unstoppable, immovable]]
The meeting with the Mechanimist leaders goes smoothly. Oung is every inch the charismatic leader, graciously lavish with her praise and graciously accepting of our rewards. She turns to distribute the pay between her mercenaries, and the Librarian of the Stilt, Sheba Hagadias, leads the hoversled palanquin away.\n\n"You have made a new friend," Wisp says to me as we walk away. It's not clear if she asks for confirmation or is informing me of something.\n\n"It would appear so," I reply, turning my face to look at the slynth on my back and earning a smooth-faced nuzzle from Leel.\n\n"You realize that your life is not likely to become //less// complicated, don't you?"\n\n"Friend Wisp," I reply with a chuckle, "my life has not become less complicated since I came to Qud. Now, I am going to see if my new friend might allow me a bit of mint smoke, wine, and rest. Live and drink, Wisp."\n\n"Live and drink, Khashind, and good luck."\n\n[[(ending)|ending]]
I unsling my chaingun from its place on my back and depress the trigger to start the barrel spinning. Wisp looks over, nods, and raises her laser pistols. Thom, too, hoists his grenade launcher.\n\nWisp draws a wide swipe with one hand, painting a wall of energy into the air in front of us to keep the chrome soldiers at bay a little longer. \n\nAs prepared as we're going to get, we center our weapons on the approaching horde and let loose.\n\n[[(we shoot)]]
Thom o'Chrome's pack goat maintains an easy gait alongside its human, chewing its cud as it stares into the middle distance. It is festooned with bags bulging with tinkering bits Thom brought along and scrap salvage that he has already found along the way.\n\nOn the goat's back is mounted a tripod, too, on which is mounted a modified laser pistol, swiveling as it scans its environs for threats.\n\n[[(keep walking)|convoy][$time += 1]]
I'm going to need all of my strength and then some to cleave through chrome hides. I brace myself and jam the applicator of a hulk honey injector into my neck, and I instantly feel a rush of adrenaline as my swelling muscles press against the padding of my carbide armor. \n\nSlower but stronger. Impervious to pain. I am ready.<<set $tonic = "hulk">>\n\n<<action>>
<<if visited() is 1>>"How are you holding up, then?" I ask.\n\n"It's a bit hot out, isn't it?" Thom laughs. "I'm doing all right. Glad I have my cooling mask, given that I grew up somewhere a fair clip colder than the salt sands. But I'm all right. I'm getting by. I'd endure far worse to be on this journey."\n\n"An you say't. Anything I can do for you?"\n\n"No, no, I've all the fresh water I need. Needs must provide my own grit, eh?"\n\n"Aye, I guess so."<<else>>"Still hanging in, Thom?"\n\n"Oh aye, aye," he says, wiping from sweat from under his cooled night-vision mask. "Never better!"<<endif>>\n\n<<thom-talk>>
<<if visited() is 1>>"We travel with Wisp the Ice Spider," I venture.\n\n"We do indeed," Oung says with a nod. "And lucky us. One would struggle to find a more versatile killer for hire in all of Qud."\n\n"I hear she is extremely dangerous. She certainly carries an aura of menace."\n\n"Oh, yes. But make no mistake: if she takes an interest in you, her icy demeanor will lift. I consider her a dear friend, and she is a good and kind person at heart. What's more, she will defend her loved ones to the death. You've seen the mask she wears?"\n\n"Aye," I reply. "It's unsettling."\n\n"That is the dried and cured face of the late Brenkt Haskell, Warmonger Amongst the True, may he forever guzzle befouled water in the hereafter."\n\nI gape. Wisp wears the face of a Putus Templar Paladin? "A //Warmonger//?"\n\n"Haskell led a party in which Wisp traveled into an ambush, murdering several of her friends. She fell into a deep rage and slaughtered them to a man, then preserved the severed face of their leader. She wears the mask in memory of her friends, and as a message to all mutant-loathing True Kin."\n\n"By the Eaters," I breathe.\n\n"Aye." Oung smiles. "Scary. But I'm sure you'll get on her good side easily."<<else>>"Did Wisp really kill an entire party of Putus Templar Wardens?" I ask. "And a Warmonger? By herself?"\n\n"Do you doubt she is capable of it?" Oung asks me, raising an eyebrow.\n\nI glance over at Wisp's crouched, spindly, weapon-bristled form, then turn back to Oung. "No."<<endif>>\n\n<<oung-talk>>