Broadcaster Quest (D&D SI Multicross) (AKA "Can someone turn down the volume?! I can't hear myself think!")
- Thread starter Mr. Cloak
- Start date
- Crossover Mature Sci-Fi Fantasy
Amused Bystander
Herald of 'She who Umu's' Be Brave!
- Location
- Philippines
[X] Kobold Warlock
Mr. Cloak
Orchestrator of Paradoxical Apocalypse
- Pronouns
- I
It's a dragon turtle from the elemental plane of water. It's a toss up whether or not it's hostile as an adolescent.
Fast thing goes in, fast thing comes out, right? Yes, Psions can make portals like that, but they can only be maintained in a magic-dead-zone or layered antimagic field. The Weave tries to enforce its own rules to prevent physics loopholes (it's the goddess Mystra's creation after all).
Krazyfan1
Worrying for the future.
- Location
- Australia
Toss up is better than automatically being hostile i guess...
Hmm....
what about maintaining the portals in the dead zone, but then opening one of them somewhere else to fire the projectile?
Mr. Cloak
Orchestrator of Paradoxical Apocalypse
- Pronouns
- I
Yes- but power intensive. An Epic Broadcaster or decently-sized metaconcert could pull it off, but it would take a lot of power and very accurite timing.
It is one of the last-ditch efforts for defending their enclave against, say, a godly Avatar, because this sort of thing can also draw Inevitable attention.
BQ 8: Pillars, Warlocks, and Necromancers
Mr. Cloak
Orchestrator of Paradoxical Apocalypse
- Pronouns
- I
-
As usual, vote options will appear in the following post.
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Journal Entry 19:
Even with just having dealt with a potential invasion, a demonic incursion, and with a swarm of Dragon-Turtles searching along the coast for this city and the beaches therein, the business of the Enclave must go on.
Of course, dragons make for a nifty prize, so that's interesting.
Hackie said that some kobolds were captured, so unless we can figure out where they came from (much harder than you'd think what with all the lack of education, maps, or other reference markers in these places), they will have to, like me, work off the debt that they helped encurr.
Thankfully, I'm not going to have anything to do with that crap, as I'm a) still paying off my own not-so-insignficant debt at a rate of around 65 years or so, and b) I am crippled somewhat.
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Journal Entry 20:
I have got to stop taunting Murphy. I have been assigned 3 kobolds to 'assist' me with my studies.
On a seperate note, I have finally reached the next point in my studies, which is using the unique, and possibly most gamebreaking ability that psionic beings can learn: PRINT. It's acutally fairly easy, since I figured out how to split my 'arm' into two sharp-tipped tentacles, one blue and the other orange.
But yeah- PRINTING (and yes I am always going to capatilize it) is the method by which a Broadcaster can literally burn a copy of text from one page onto another page without reading it. It has to do with 'conceptual imprinting' and 'collective consiouness references' according to Hackie, but it's actually a lot simpler than that makes it sound. To do it, I put one hand (or tentacle) on the first page of the completed book, my other hand on the other book, and run power through the page, cycle it through me, and then push it out onto the page.
The area under my hand will be copied in greyscale gradients exactly, so I just made sure the contact surface of my tentacle was stretching the length of the page, so I could do a single sheet in just under a second.
I wasn't the fastest Broadcaster to print various books, but I could do scrolls faster than almost anyone, so that's nice, I guess?
Which brings me back to the original point, my three kobolds. Rux, Riva, and Ula.
Turns out, as I slept, the people in charge started trying to figure out what to do with the Kobolds, and when 'let them go' was not voted for (as well as very difficult, as the other enclaves were not able to figure out a good place for them in any case- kobolds were not considered more than vermin in many countries, and several city-states had bounties for kobold heads), the kobolds were asked what they had wanted.
Interestingly, they didn't know. Their whole cultural identity, as much as they understood it, was based around dragons.
Thus, I, and several other random people in the enclave, were collected at 'too-gods-damned-early-o-clock', and shown into a room where the catured kobolds were staring at the Master-Broadcaster, in 3 of his bodies.
One dragon.
It's hard to get the colors right- it looked like a black dragon that was slowly begining to turn into living gemstone at the extremeties.
One elf.
And a drider.
(Oh, and I drew these pictures using the PRINTING ability. It's actually really easy to draw these sorts of things now.)
His dragon-body gave a short speech to the kobolds, about how they were now part of the enclave, and then touched one kobold on the head with an extended claw. There was a sparkle of purple-green not-light, and kobold felt a little… Brighter, to my viewing-sense.
He proceided to do the same to every kobold over the next half hour, and then I was shown my three… Not slaves, but… They were mine. 'Gifted', as it were, according to them, by a 'great dragon', to help one of his subordinates.
When I asked them about that, all three chorused the same words: "He has spared our lives- we are eternally grateful."
Gave me some toy story flashbacks, and made me feel rather sad. Both for missing home, and for them.
Anyway, I need to get back to work- when I manage to get color working consistantly, I will be able to start working to pay down my debt!
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Journal Entry 21
I learned, earlier today, what allowed the enclave to support itself.
The answer: Psionically-created products and services.
Now, that's a very simple way to say something horribly complicated, so I'm going to list here what's up with this place.
First: Books. Broadcasters can copy books very, very cheaply. They just needed a scroll of the right length, or the right number of bound pages to duplicate a document. Moreover, we could do so remotely, to some degree (a not insignificant factor), and because of that mages around the world paid Psionic Enclaves to hold encrypted copies of their spellbooks. Other documents that were the property of various governments were also kept, in encrypted, crystal-sealed storage in the Enclave's vault.
Wizards were DEATHLY afraid of losing all of their spells, and the various colleges and governments paid a pretty penny for our safety, security, and reputation for being both unbiassed and secretive.
Ever since the Enclaves had begun offering this service, no adventuring party had managed to steal any documents we had made backups of.
And we made copies of everything.
Second (and this plays into the first): The enclaves all were surrounded by either an ambient or enforced anti-magic field. Many magical artifacts (specifically books such as the *Tome of Leadership and Influence*, *Tome of Understanding*, and the *Tome of Clear Thought*) could not be duplicated without an antimagic field or a high-ranking magic-user of some form who is willing to push a great deal of their power into an artifact…. And write all of it by hand. Normally, even with an antimagic field, a mage would need to cast the spells needed, and there are very few magic-users that are that powerful and that aren't dragons of some form.
Or elves. Most elves were insular and somewhat xenophobic- but they also HATED psions. Being instrinsically magical tended to do that.
Anyway, some hundred years ago or so, an Enclave discovered that using PRINTING to copy a magical tome and then dropping it into an area high in wild magic would auto-enchant the book.
Afer that, the Enclaves got right down to business making copies of the most expensive magical books they could find. Every Enclave (and this was NEVER supposed to be told to outsiders) would make copies of books such as the *Manual of Golems* (a costly endevor, but one that paid off quite nicely), the *Manual of Quickness of Action*, the *Manual of Gainfull Exercise* and the *Manual of Bodily Health*, among other magical books and tomes.
Of course, I could only get 1/10th of the sale price of any magical book I copied, but that wasn't nessesarily that bad.
And to make this more complicated, in order not to saturate the market, the books that were made in this way were regularly auctioned in a rolling method, so no one city, state, or area would get too many of the more expensive books. A city had actually gone into debt doing this once, and the Enclaves had to deal with the resulting fallout.
Third: Banking. Having a population that can pass information on over vast distances easily and cheaply meant that every single bank on Toril was linked together through the Enclaves. Psionic Enclaves tended to collect a lot of gold, so we lended to banks, and facilitated their communications.
Fourth: Communications. Instantanious real-time unlimited-wordcount messages? It's like the Diskworld and the Clacks- we faciliated stocks and communications between various cities. Yes, wizards and other casters still used Sending, but our way was faster and more affordable.
After all, a message could be like a phone call, a video chat, or a letter. We were the internet, and everyone paid for that privalage. Psionic Enclaves had a lockdown on the fastest methods of communication, and every country used our network of communication for one thing or another.
Fifth: Unique services. Since all psionics could cast anywhere they had active Viewing running, and Broadcasters had an insane range (even with stone dampening the effect, I knew the range of my own viewing was several hundred feet), with a Communication Stone and permission, we could cast effects from hundreds of miles away.
Some rich people had standing contracts and credit with us, using the enclave as a caster that would not be pursuing their own agenda in court. It such a common issue that many kings had both a court wizard and a locket with a Communication Stone in it that we marketed these properties out to prospective clients.
Besides- why have a dedicated druid or sorceror when a quick call and a few gold can get you the result you want, on demand?
And Sixth: Spelljammers.
Yes, the flying ships. Turns out, if you want a Spelljammer that can do more than travel between three crystal spheres, you needed psionic components to provide the shielding and propulsion. Moreover, there were… THINGS, in the phlogiston between the different crystal spheres that were inherantly anti-magical, and indeed fed off of magic if they noticed a spelljammer passing within several sphere-diameters of themselves.
(Note to self- the term 'sphere-diameter' is unweildy and due to the lack of understanding of astronomical phenomona, try to introduce the concepts of a 'light-year', as light should be a standard of measurement for stable physics.)
As such, the Enclave was constantly making parts for the few extra-crystal-sphere vessels that were used, as well as the less exotic flying ships that were used for shipping or other duties large mobile vessels would have.
~~~~~~
And now I've been forced to draw the short straw on another task.
I wonder what they need from me this time?
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The Speaker-Of-Thunderheads was very, very nervous.
First, his dragon was killed. And army destroyed. And now… He was going to try to negotiate with the group that did that to somehow, some way, collect the Dragon-Turtle Shell he needed for his patron- and hopefully not die in the process.
He once traveled to the Elemental Plane of Air, and got to see firsthand what his patron did to those who failed her tasks AND died in the process. He did not want to be shoved in a bottle and slowly turned into a genie.
He still had nightmares about it, sometimes…
Speaker-Of-Thunderheads shook his melancholy thoughts out of the way, and looked at the strange pillar in front of him. Maybe obelisk would be a better description?
He could *feel* the connection between his patron and his patron straining as he got closer to the pillars, but he was able to touch the pillars without the connection snapping. It was the best evidence he had of the connection in the first place, and it SCARED THE SHIT OUT OF HIM.
The Speaker-Of-Thunderheads pulled his hand back from the stone with a snap- while he wanted to be free, there was something viscerally disturbing about feeling your soul bend in such a way.
He never wanted to feel it again-
There was a pulsating lights from out of the corner of his eye, and he dove for cover. After a second of poking an eye out of the bush he had head-first dove into, he was able to see that the teleportation circle in the town was active.
The circle was glowing, filling with the bright light of an active teleportation spell… And when the light left, he saw… An almost steriotypical adventuring party.
"Look, all I'm saying is that we don't NEED to keep the mayor alive if he thinks we were smuggling DreamRoot powder." The one wearing heavy, concealing dark robes was arguing in a very annoyed tone.
"Algernop, for the last time, we are not going to kill that mayor." Growled the elf archer.
"Why? We don't need him alive, and I am sure Cheryl can kill him sublty…." Everyone in the little group looked at the psycotically-giggling halfling. "Okay, maybe not subtly, but in a way that deals with potential blackmail against the group that would be difficult to trace to us."
"Al, my man, that's not going to happen." One of the humans. "For one, he doesn't think the GROUP was smuggling DreamRoot powder- just you."
"That's fair Archer." Huffed the necromancer as a small bone-spider made of several human-sized fingerbones crawled out of his long sleeve and perched on top of his head.
"And you keep getting caught robbing graves!" The female goliath rumbled, a grin stretching her face significantly. "And getting caught forging signatures for waivers to raise corpses, and-"
"Yes Pam, Algernop is a twisted person." The flamboyant elf wizard flapped a hand. "And none of us have space to talk here."
"Hey!" The goliath named 'Pam' pouted.
"Ray's right." The halfling 'Cheryl' raised a burning finger, and stared at it. "Pretty…"
The human 'Archer' shrugged. "In any case, we have an appointment." He pulled out a hip flask, took a swig, and replaced it next to four other flasks. "Who was it that we were meeting again, Lara?"
The elf archer 'Lara' frowned. "We are meeting with a member of the Psionic Enclave-By-Athakatla, Archer, and I don't know how you forgot this- we just walked out of the breifing for this meeting!"
"I don't know- maybe because I don't NEED to remember it? I'm not a necrophiliac necromancer-"
"Hey!" Algernop the necromancer protested for a moment, but then shrugged. "That's fair."
"- or a psychotic pyromaniac sorceror-"
"Yup!" Grinned Cheryl the halfling.
"- or a barbarian who likes to chew on bones when she's not eating anything that doesn't run away fast enough-"
"…" Pam didn't reply, as she had pulled an entire leg of cow out of the bag on her back, and was chewing.
"-or a gay elf-"
"What does that have to do with anything?" Snapped Ray the gay elf wizard.
"- so this meeting won't benefit me directly." Archer ignored the elf wizard. "I know why we're here, I just couldn't remember the name of the place."
There was a rustle, and a new kobold came out of one of the bushes, completely unconcerned by the sudden weapons being brandished towards it. Speaker-Of-Thunderheads was not sure how long that kobold had been hiding in the bush.
"Hello. You are expected." The kobold looked vaguely familliar to Speaker-Of-Thunderstorms, possibly a survivor of that horribly-destructive metoric attack. "A lesser psionic gate will open in 3. 2. 1."
Speaker-Of-Thunderheads had seen, heard, and FELT a lot of portal-like spells over the years. This was NOTHING like those at ALL. As a warlock, his senses and focus on gateways and inter-planar travel was trained and turned to great sensitivity…. But this was WRONG.
It was like the world split along a seam, unrolling against itself as flickers of not-light arced like some form of corrupted lightning in hands that reached out to pull even more of *here* to *there*, smoothing out the fabric of the world as it went, befoe stabilizing in a subltle play of green-purple light around the edges that his eyes, in the pre-dawn, could barely see.
"You too are invited, mister warlock."
Speaker-Of-Thunderheads nearly jumped out of his skin as he saw the kobold looking at him with… Irritation?
"Yes, I know you are there. You have been skulking around the anchoring pillars for some time now."
The party of adventurers seemed very surprised when he stepped out of the bush, which soothed his disturbed faith in his skills. "Yes…" He croaked, cleared his throat, and nodded. "I have come to bargain."
"This is assumed…" The kobold smirked slightly. "Reguardless, you and the Sabotaours are invited. Follow."
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Journal Entry 22:
I met with two groups today, as the 'Broadcaster Representative'. See, there is still politics (insert retching sound here) even in an enlightened democratic system like the one that psionic enclaves use, and it follows a fairly simple set of rules:
- The network and Metaconcert is used to determine the outcome of descisions that would effect the enclave as a whole.
- Training is left up to the different specialties.
- Every Psionic specialty is self-governing, and any crimes that happen must have a representative from the victim's party, the victimiser's party, and the network in metaconcert to make sure any ruling is fair on who is punished and where remuneration is implimented.
- Any major purchase of goods/services or sale of goods/services requires a representative from each of the specialties that make up any enclave. One for each of the Breakers, Psions, Runners, Channelers, Broadcasters, Soulknives, and Delvers, if there is a population of them within the enclave.
At least, that's the summary I could put together. There are other rules, such as for debt repayment, but it gets complicated quickly, and frankly, it's the last rule that's important here.
I was the 'Broadcaster Representative' for the two groups today- one of which was an adventuring party called 'The Sabotaours' that specilized in, well… Applied Necromancy, assasination, and black operations.
And, for whatever reason, they were dead-ringers for the cast from the TV show Archer.
They had a contract with this Enclave that allowed them the first right of refusal in the purchasing of enemy corpses and bones, in exchange for a tithe of food from the many skeleton crew farms that the Necormancer helped provide the labor for.
It's actually really clever- skeletons, as undead, can follow simple commands. Farming doesn't NEED to be complicated, and their necromancer (who looked like Kreiger if he had dabbled in the darkest of magical arts- so give him goth makeup) could create control necklaces and artifacts with dozens of slots to control skeletons. These artifacts were magical in nature, and the skeletons, once linked, could not attack or harm anything, but they were good at basic farm work- and, in the event of emergencies, could dog-pile threats.
Anyway, there was some haggling, I got some side-eye-glances from the giggling halfling, and the elf archer seemed disgusted by my missing arm.
The rest of me was hidden by the table.
The second group that the representatives were meeting was a single individual- a kobold, who had last been seen advising the dragon that was attacking the town.
Mr. Speaker-Of-Thunderheads is a) a warlock, and b) had been manipulating the bronze dragon into (hopefully) setting a trap up so he could harvest the shell of an Ancient Dragon-Turtle… And was willing to exchange quite a bit of treasure for it.
He knew where the Bronze dragon, Ulhamjalanbaladarrh, had laired. It was a few miles up the coast, within another cliff, where the entrance was only accessible via digging (kobold tunnels) or by going through the trapped main entrance, which opened up under the sea near the dropoff. Said dropoff was now past the lines of the slowly-advancing dragon-turtle swarm.
With the exception of the massive dragon-turtle swarm that was currently slowly drifting over the entrance of the lair, it would be accessable.
Since it wasn't, and he admitted to working with his patron to corrupt the dragon with elemental-resonation-corruption (which I still don't quite understand) to entice the dragon to kill a dragon-turtle, he is therefore responsible for the damage caused by the fight to the town. Speaker-Of-Thunderheads the Kobold Warlock has agreed to pay reperitions out of the hoard for the town's reparir, the Enclave for collecting the requisite corpse for his patron, 1/3rd pf what remains to be gifted to the Enclave as an apology, and the rest to be distributed to the dragon's descendants, which the Enclave will find after this current issue is dealt with.
So… Now someone who outranks me (which is everyone) needs to determine how we are going to harvest an ancient dragon-turtle.
Glad I'm going back to training- I can't help with this much. Hell, I don't even have a leg to stand on!
…
Okay, I made myself sad.
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1 dead corrupted bronze dragon
300 or so dead Kobolds
Kobold Warlock ran away to approach from
21 captured Kobold survivors
300 or so dead Kobolds
Kobold Warlock ran away to approach from
21 captured Kobold survivors
(1) Adolescent Dragon-Turtle
(2) Kobold Warlock
(0) Adult Dragon-Turtle Swarm
Result:
Kobold Warlock story incoming.
1 Adolescent Dragon-Turtle swims by.
(2) Kobold Warlock
(0) Adult Dragon-Turtle Swarm
Result:
Kobold Warlock story incoming.
1 Adolescent Dragon-Turtle swims by.
Current Environs status:
City (Athakatla): Evacuated, under invasion
Enclave-By-Athakatla: Preparing to search the nearby city
Plot-lines engaged:
Part 1 Result: Cult of Demonic worshipers (worshipers killed, demons killed) make their move as the Colossal Dragon Turtles are sighted off the coast for spawning season, and a random-ass dragon shows up to (rolls for plot: 84) take over the port city.
*Fusion Result for part 1: Due to the number of issues present that the Enclave is dealing with right now, the MC will NOT be fully healed.*
Mallus gained: **I used to be right-handed…** Limbs: 1 (prosthetic)
Hidden MC Plot: You want to do WHAT to my liver?! (fell through accidental portal that appeared, and the cult wants the chosen vessel back)
Debt: 127,500 gold pieces (12,750 platinum pieces, or 12.75 Platinum Bars) (-1000 gp for valuable knowlege relating to sea turtles)
City (Athakatla): Evacuated, under invasion
Enclave-By-Athakatla: Preparing to search the nearby city
Plot-lines engaged:
Part 1 Result: Cult of Demonic worshipers (worshipers killed, demons killed) make their move as the Colossal Dragon Turtles are sighted off the coast for spawning season, and a random-ass dragon shows up to (rolls for plot: 84) take over the port city.
*Fusion Result for part 1: Due to the number of issues present that the Enclave is dealing with right now, the MC will NOT be fully healed.*
Mallus gained: **I used to be right-handed…** Limbs: 1 (prosthetic)
Hidden MC Plot: You want to do WHAT to my liver?! (fell through accidental portal that appeared, and the cult wants the chosen vessel back)
Debt: 127,500 gold pieces (12,750 platinum pieces, or 12.75 Platinum Bars) (-1000 gp for valuable knowlege relating to sea turtles)
As usual, vote options will appear in the following post.
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Journal Entry 19:
Even with just having dealt with a potential invasion, a demonic incursion, and with a swarm of Dragon-Turtles searching along the coast for this city and the beaches therein, the business of the Enclave must go on.
Of course, dragons make for a nifty prize, so that's interesting.
Hackie said that some kobolds were captured, so unless we can figure out where they came from (much harder than you'd think what with all the lack of education, maps, or other reference markers in these places), they will have to, like me, work off the debt that they helped encurr.
Thankfully, I'm not going to have anything to do with that crap, as I'm a) still paying off my own not-so-insignficant debt at a rate of around 65 years or so, and b) I am crippled somewhat.
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Journal Entry 20:
I have got to stop taunting Murphy. I have been assigned 3 kobolds to 'assist' me with my studies.
On a seperate note, I have finally reached the next point in my studies, which is using the unique, and possibly most gamebreaking ability that psionic beings can learn: PRINT. It's acutally fairly easy, since I figured out how to split my 'arm' into two sharp-tipped tentacles, one blue and the other orange.
But yeah- PRINTING (and yes I am always going to capatilize it) is the method by which a Broadcaster can literally burn a copy of text from one page onto another page without reading it. It has to do with 'conceptual imprinting' and 'collective consiouness references' according to Hackie, but it's actually a lot simpler than that makes it sound. To do it, I put one hand (or tentacle) on the first page of the completed book, my other hand on the other book, and run power through the page, cycle it through me, and then push it out onto the page.
The area under my hand will be copied in greyscale gradients exactly, so I just made sure the contact surface of my tentacle was stretching the length of the page, so I could do a single sheet in just under a second.
I wasn't the fastest Broadcaster to print various books, but I could do scrolls faster than almost anyone, so that's nice, I guess?
Which brings me back to the original point, my three kobolds. Rux, Riva, and Ula.
Turns out, as I slept, the people in charge started trying to figure out what to do with the Kobolds, and when 'let them go' was not voted for (as well as very difficult, as the other enclaves were not able to figure out a good place for them in any case- kobolds were not considered more than vermin in many countries, and several city-states had bounties for kobold heads), the kobolds were asked what they had wanted.
Interestingly, they didn't know. Their whole cultural identity, as much as they understood it, was based around dragons.
Thus, I, and several other random people in the enclave, were collected at 'too-gods-damned-early-o-clock', and shown into a room where the catured kobolds were staring at the Master-Broadcaster, in 3 of his bodies.
One dragon.
It's hard to get the colors right- it looked like a black dragon that was slowly begining to turn into living gemstone at the extremeties.
One elf.
And a drider.
(Oh, and I drew these pictures using the PRINTING ability. It's actually really easy to draw these sorts of things now.)
His dragon-body gave a short speech to the kobolds, about how they were now part of the enclave, and then touched one kobold on the head with an extended claw. There was a sparkle of purple-green not-light, and kobold felt a little… Brighter, to my viewing-sense.
He proceided to do the same to every kobold over the next half hour, and then I was shown my three… Not slaves, but… They were mine. 'Gifted', as it were, according to them, by a 'great dragon', to help one of his subordinates.
When I asked them about that, all three chorused the same words: "He has spared our lives- we are eternally grateful."
Gave me some toy story flashbacks, and made me feel rather sad. Both for missing home, and for them.
Anyway, I need to get back to work- when I manage to get color working consistantly, I will be able to start working to pay down my debt!
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Journal Entry 21
I learned, earlier today, what allowed the enclave to support itself.
The answer: Psionically-created products and services.
Now, that's a very simple way to say something horribly complicated, so I'm going to list here what's up with this place.
First: Books. Broadcasters can copy books very, very cheaply. They just needed a scroll of the right length, or the right number of bound pages to duplicate a document. Moreover, we could do so remotely, to some degree (a not insignificant factor), and because of that mages around the world paid Psionic Enclaves to hold encrypted copies of their spellbooks. Other documents that were the property of various governments were also kept, in encrypted, crystal-sealed storage in the Enclave's vault.
Wizards were DEATHLY afraid of losing all of their spells, and the various colleges and governments paid a pretty penny for our safety, security, and reputation for being both unbiassed and secretive.
Ever since the Enclaves had begun offering this service, no adventuring party had managed to steal any documents we had made backups of.
And we made copies of everything.
Second (and this plays into the first): The enclaves all were surrounded by either an ambient or enforced anti-magic field. Many magical artifacts (specifically books such as the *Tome of Leadership and Influence*, *Tome of Understanding*, and the *Tome of Clear Thought*) could not be duplicated without an antimagic field or a high-ranking magic-user of some form who is willing to push a great deal of their power into an artifact…. And write all of it by hand. Normally, even with an antimagic field, a mage would need to cast the spells needed, and there are very few magic-users that are that powerful and that aren't dragons of some form.
Or elves. Most elves were insular and somewhat xenophobic- but they also HATED psions. Being instrinsically magical tended to do that.
Anyway, some hundred years ago or so, an Enclave discovered that using PRINTING to copy a magical tome and then dropping it into an area high in wild magic would auto-enchant the book.
Afer that, the Enclaves got right down to business making copies of the most expensive magical books they could find. Every Enclave (and this was NEVER supposed to be told to outsiders) would make copies of books such as the *Manual of Golems* (a costly endevor, but one that paid off quite nicely), the *Manual of Quickness of Action*, the *Manual of Gainfull Exercise* and the *Manual of Bodily Health*, among other magical books and tomes.
Of course, I could only get 1/10th of the sale price of any magical book I copied, but that wasn't nessesarily that bad.
And to make this more complicated, in order not to saturate the market, the books that were made in this way were regularly auctioned in a rolling method, so no one city, state, or area would get too many of the more expensive books. A city had actually gone into debt doing this once, and the Enclaves had to deal with the resulting fallout.
Third: Banking. Having a population that can pass information on over vast distances easily and cheaply meant that every single bank on Toril was linked together through the Enclaves. Psionic Enclaves tended to collect a lot of gold, so we lended to banks, and facilitated their communications.
Fourth: Communications. Instantanious real-time unlimited-wordcount messages? It's like the Diskworld and the Clacks- we faciliated stocks and communications between various cities. Yes, wizards and other casters still used Sending, but our way was faster and more affordable.
After all, a message could be like a phone call, a video chat, or a letter. We were the internet, and everyone paid for that privalage. Psionic Enclaves had a lockdown on the fastest methods of communication, and every country used our network of communication for one thing or another.
Fifth: Unique services. Since all psionics could cast anywhere they had active Viewing running, and Broadcasters had an insane range (even with stone dampening the effect, I knew the range of my own viewing was several hundred feet), with a Communication Stone and permission, we could cast effects from hundreds of miles away.
Some rich people had standing contracts and credit with us, using the enclave as a caster that would not be pursuing their own agenda in court. It such a common issue that many kings had both a court wizard and a locket with a Communication Stone in it that we marketed these properties out to prospective clients.
Besides- why have a dedicated druid or sorceror when a quick call and a few gold can get you the result you want, on demand?
And Sixth: Spelljammers.
Yes, the flying ships. Turns out, if you want a Spelljammer that can do more than travel between three crystal spheres, you needed psionic components to provide the shielding and propulsion. Moreover, there were… THINGS, in the phlogiston between the different crystal spheres that were inherantly anti-magical, and indeed fed off of magic if they noticed a spelljammer passing within several sphere-diameters of themselves.
(Note to self- the term 'sphere-diameter' is unweildy and due to the lack of understanding of astronomical phenomona, try to introduce the concepts of a 'light-year', as light should be a standard of measurement for stable physics.)
As such, the Enclave was constantly making parts for the few extra-crystal-sphere vessels that were used, as well as the less exotic flying ships that were used for shipping or other duties large mobile vessels would have.
~~~~~~
And now I've been forced to draw the short straw on another task.
I wonder what they need from me this time?
-
The Speaker-Of-Thunderheads was very, very nervous.
First, his dragon was killed. And army destroyed. And now… He was going to try to negotiate with the group that did that to somehow, some way, collect the Dragon-Turtle Shell he needed for his patron- and hopefully not die in the process.
He once traveled to the Elemental Plane of Air, and got to see firsthand what his patron did to those who failed her tasks AND died in the process. He did not want to be shoved in a bottle and slowly turned into a genie.
He still had nightmares about it, sometimes…
Speaker-Of-Thunderheads shook his melancholy thoughts out of the way, and looked at the strange pillar in front of him. Maybe obelisk would be a better description?
He could *feel* the connection between his patron and his patron straining as he got closer to the pillars, but he was able to touch the pillars without the connection snapping. It was the best evidence he had of the connection in the first place, and it SCARED THE SHIT OUT OF HIM.
The Speaker-Of-Thunderheads pulled his hand back from the stone with a snap- while he wanted to be free, there was something viscerally disturbing about feeling your soul bend in such a way.
He never wanted to feel it again-
There was a pulsating lights from out of the corner of his eye, and he dove for cover. After a second of poking an eye out of the bush he had head-first dove into, he was able to see that the teleportation circle in the town was active.
The circle was glowing, filling with the bright light of an active teleportation spell… And when the light left, he saw… An almost steriotypical adventuring party.
"Look, all I'm saying is that we don't NEED to keep the mayor alive if he thinks we were smuggling DreamRoot powder." The one wearing heavy, concealing dark robes was arguing in a very annoyed tone.
"Algernop, for the last time, we are not going to kill that mayor." Growled the elf archer.
"Why? We don't need him alive, and I am sure Cheryl can kill him sublty…." Everyone in the little group looked at the psycotically-giggling halfling. "Okay, maybe not subtly, but in a way that deals with potential blackmail against the group that would be difficult to trace to us."
"Al, my man, that's not going to happen." One of the humans. "For one, he doesn't think the GROUP was smuggling DreamRoot powder- just you."
"That's fair Archer." Huffed the necromancer as a small bone-spider made of several human-sized fingerbones crawled out of his long sleeve and perched on top of his head.
"And you keep getting caught robbing graves!" The female goliath rumbled, a grin stretching her face significantly. "And getting caught forging signatures for waivers to raise corpses, and-"
"Yes Pam, Algernop is a twisted person." The flamboyant elf wizard flapped a hand. "And none of us have space to talk here."
"Hey!" The goliath named 'Pam' pouted.
"Ray's right." The halfling 'Cheryl' raised a burning finger, and stared at it. "Pretty…"
The human 'Archer' shrugged. "In any case, we have an appointment." He pulled out a hip flask, took a swig, and replaced it next to four other flasks. "Who was it that we were meeting again, Lara?"
The elf archer 'Lara' frowned. "We are meeting with a member of the Psionic Enclave-By-Athakatla, Archer, and I don't know how you forgot this- we just walked out of the breifing for this meeting!"
"I don't know- maybe because I don't NEED to remember it? I'm not a necrophiliac necromancer-"
"Hey!" Algernop the necromancer protested for a moment, but then shrugged. "That's fair."
"- or a psychotic pyromaniac sorceror-"
"Yup!" Grinned Cheryl the halfling.
"- or a barbarian who likes to chew on bones when she's not eating anything that doesn't run away fast enough-"
"…" Pam didn't reply, as she had pulled an entire leg of cow out of the bag on her back, and was chewing.
"-or a gay elf-"
"What does that have to do with anything?" Snapped Ray the gay elf wizard.
"- so this meeting won't benefit me directly." Archer ignored the elf wizard. "I know why we're here, I just couldn't remember the name of the place."
There was a rustle, and a new kobold came out of one of the bushes, completely unconcerned by the sudden weapons being brandished towards it. Speaker-Of-Thunderheads was not sure how long that kobold had been hiding in the bush.
"Hello. You are expected." The kobold looked vaguely familliar to Speaker-Of-Thunderstorms, possibly a survivor of that horribly-destructive metoric attack. "A lesser psionic gate will open in 3. 2. 1."
Speaker-Of-Thunderheads had seen, heard, and FELT a lot of portal-like spells over the years. This was NOTHING like those at ALL. As a warlock, his senses and focus on gateways and inter-planar travel was trained and turned to great sensitivity…. But this was WRONG.
It was like the world split along a seam, unrolling against itself as flickers of not-light arced like some form of corrupted lightning in hands that reached out to pull even more of *here* to *there*, smoothing out the fabric of the world as it went, befoe stabilizing in a subltle play of green-purple light around the edges that his eyes, in the pre-dawn, could barely see.
"You too are invited, mister warlock."
Speaker-Of-Thunderheads nearly jumped out of his skin as he saw the kobold looking at him with… Irritation?
"Yes, I know you are there. You have been skulking around the anchoring pillars for some time now."
The party of adventurers seemed very surprised when he stepped out of the bush, which soothed his disturbed faith in his skills. "Yes…" He croaked, cleared his throat, and nodded. "I have come to bargain."
"This is assumed…" The kobold smirked slightly. "Reguardless, you and the Sabotaours are invited. Follow."
-
Journal Entry 22:
I met with two groups today, as the 'Broadcaster Representative'. See, there is still politics (insert retching sound here) even in an enlightened democratic system like the one that psionic enclaves use, and it follows a fairly simple set of rules:
- The network and Metaconcert is used to determine the outcome of descisions that would effect the enclave as a whole.
- Training is left up to the different specialties.
- Every Psionic specialty is self-governing, and any crimes that happen must have a representative from the victim's party, the victimiser's party, and the network in metaconcert to make sure any ruling is fair on who is punished and where remuneration is implimented.
- Any major purchase of goods/services or sale of goods/services requires a representative from each of the specialties that make up any enclave. One for each of the Breakers, Psions, Runners, Channelers, Broadcasters, Soulknives, and Delvers, if there is a population of them within the enclave.
At least, that's the summary I could put together. There are other rules, such as for debt repayment, but it gets complicated quickly, and frankly, it's the last rule that's important here.
I was the 'Broadcaster Representative' for the two groups today- one of which was an adventuring party called 'The Sabotaours' that specilized in, well… Applied Necromancy, assasination, and black operations.
And, for whatever reason, they were dead-ringers for the cast from the TV show Archer.
They had a contract with this Enclave that allowed them the first right of refusal in the purchasing of enemy corpses and bones, in exchange for a tithe of food from the many skeleton crew farms that the Necormancer helped provide the labor for.
It's actually really clever- skeletons, as undead, can follow simple commands. Farming doesn't NEED to be complicated, and their necromancer (who looked like Kreiger if he had dabbled in the darkest of magical arts- so give him goth makeup) could create control necklaces and artifacts with dozens of slots to control skeletons. These artifacts were magical in nature, and the skeletons, once linked, could not attack or harm anything, but they were good at basic farm work- and, in the event of emergencies, could dog-pile threats.
Anyway, there was some haggling, I got some side-eye-glances from the giggling halfling, and the elf archer seemed disgusted by my missing arm.
The rest of me was hidden by the table.
The second group that the representatives were meeting was a single individual- a kobold, who had last been seen advising the dragon that was attacking the town.
Mr. Speaker-Of-Thunderheads is a) a warlock, and b) had been manipulating the bronze dragon into (hopefully) setting a trap up so he could harvest the shell of an Ancient Dragon-Turtle… And was willing to exchange quite a bit of treasure for it.
He knew where the Bronze dragon, Ulhamjalanbaladarrh, had laired. It was a few miles up the coast, within another cliff, where the entrance was only accessible via digging (kobold tunnels) or by going through the trapped main entrance, which opened up under the sea near the dropoff. Said dropoff was now past the lines of the slowly-advancing dragon-turtle swarm.
With the exception of the massive dragon-turtle swarm that was currently slowly drifting over the entrance of the lair, it would be accessable.
Since it wasn't, and he admitted to working with his patron to corrupt the dragon with elemental-resonation-corruption (which I still don't quite understand) to entice the dragon to kill a dragon-turtle, he is therefore responsible for the damage caused by the fight to the town. Speaker-Of-Thunderheads the Kobold Warlock has agreed to pay reperitions out of the hoard for the town's reparir, the Enclave for collecting the requisite corpse for his patron, 1/3rd pf what remains to be gifted to the Enclave as an apology, and the rest to be distributed to the dragon's descendants, which the Enclave will find after this current issue is dealt with.
So… Now someone who outranks me (which is everyone) needs to determine how we are going to harvest an ancient dragon-turtle.
Glad I'm going back to training- I can't help with this much. Hell, I don't even have a leg to stand on!
…
Okay, I made myself sad.
-
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Mr. Cloak
Orchestrator of Paradoxical Apocalypse
- Pronouns
- I
Hello Everyone!
I hope y'all enjoyed the chapter!
Next poll is as follows:
The enclave needs to start Dealing With Dragon (turtles), and therefore, three plans have been written up:
(a) Keep up the illusions, but try to drive the turtles off if they try to land in the city.
(b) Artifically extend the 'beach' area so the turtles can lay their eggs and leave, but keep up the illusion, and try to farm the turtles.
(c) (Simple plan write-ins may be considered).
Choose wisely! What happens will not nessesarily be what you expect!
I hope y'all enjoyed the chapter!
Next poll is as follows:
The enclave needs to start Dealing With Dragon (turtles), and therefore, three plans have been written up:
(a) Keep up the illusions, but try to drive the turtles off if they try to land in the city.
(b) Artifically extend the 'beach' area so the turtles can lay their eggs and leave, but keep up the illusion, and try to farm the turtles.
(c) (Simple plan write-ins may be considered).
Choose wisely! What happens will not nessesarily be what you expect!
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Krazyfan1
Worrying for the future.
- Location
- Australia
Nice!
And yeah, skeletons like that would make a good workforce...
And a bone spider eh?
Wonder if he'll figure out how to make bigger things?
I mean, they are walking everywhere! Where is the self driving carriage made out of bones?
Or at the very least, skeleton mopeds...
And I wonder if it's possible to extend the beach away from the town, but in a way where the dragon turtles can see that the ones doing it are attempting to assist them?
"We were passing by and saw you might want some help, we will extend the beach in exchange for a scale"
Or 2 if that isn't possible.
And I wonder what can be done with your new employees?
Start up the Kobold Union early?
And yeah, skeletons like that would make a good workforce...
And a bone spider eh?
Wonder if he'll figure out how to make bigger things?
I mean, they are walking everywhere! Where is the self driving carriage made out of bones?
Or at the very least, skeleton mopeds...
And I wonder if it's possible to extend the beach away from the town, but in a way where the dragon turtles can see that the ones doing it are attempting to assist them?
"We were passing by and saw you might want some help, we will extend the beach in exchange for a scale"
Or 2 if that isn't possible.
And I wonder what can be done with your new employees?
Start up the Kobold Union early?
Amused Bystander
Herald of 'She who Umu's' Be Brave!
- Location
- Philippines
(b) Artifically extend the 'beach' area so the turtles can lay their eggs and leave, but keep up the illusion, and try to farm the turtles.
Mr. Cloak
Orchestrator of Paradoxical Apocalypse
- Pronouns
- I
Being in a psionic enclave is like being in the most direct form of democracy and a company and a monestary. The Kobolds are learning of a new world that has completely different rules to a tribial socioty that they were in (EG, a tribe that was twisted for breeding soldiers), so... They are in a type of culture shock right now.
On the subject of nectomantic machines: Mostly it's because of the fact that not all minds can control or direct necromatic constructs. The Sabotours sell these necromatic artifacts BECAUSE there are very, very few necromancers that make undead that are unable to harm things. Large landowners (think farm barons or knights that hold land) purchase these artifacts to use these 'harmless' undead to plow farms, weed, them, and do some other grunt work that does not require problem-solving. Thing is, those undead are harmless, and won't even defend themselves, so.... The crows tend to be more of a nusance than usual to these systems.
Otherwise, undead things have a disturbing tendancy to, well, attack the living.
Sounds like PROFIT- or disaster.
Krazyfan1
Worrying for the future.
- Location
- Australia
Hmm...the undead do all the manual labour, and the farmers scare the crows away instead?
Mr. Cloak
Orchestrator of Paradoxical Apocalypse
- Pronouns
- I
Pretty much. But it's not just crows that cause problems for farms, so there is... Attrition. Usually a harmless-undead gets broken by some wolves bears, crows sometimes if the farmer isn't very attentive, scavengers, sometimes deer.
Yes, they chew bones for calcium if they can get it.
It's a full time job keeping the wildlife off of any workin' stiffs.
Enough that The Necromancer Kreiger is getting wealthy making replacement 'lite bone' golems for farm work. After all, they don't tire, and don't stop until a job is done.
Krazyfan1
Worrying for the future.
- Location
- Australia
Now i'm imagining a farmer going outside to see a half eaten skeleton trying to futility till the field while her trusty (well, not so trusty anymore)horse keeps on taking bites out of it...
Cause thats a thing Horses would do.
Oh just caught up, i am really interested in the economy of this world. So since psions do these task what do the wizards do, i assume they control most trade through the teleportation circles and bags of holding, also the security service since they can create magic and psionics immune golems and contingency spells.
But to be honest we all know the clerics are the better caster by a wide margin, especially the users of divine magics that aren't limited by gods philosophies like the oracles. Also they have a lot of fate manipulating and future seeing spells and just usefull spells like purify water.
But to be honest we all know the clerics are the better caster by a wide margin, especially the users of divine magics that aren't limited by gods philosophies like the oracles. Also they have a lot of fate manipulating and future seeing spells and just usefull spells like purify water.
Mr. Cloak
Orchestrator of Paradoxical Apocalypse
- Pronouns
- I
Wizards provide a lot of goods and services. Enchantments on non-bonding artifacts (such as warding stones to keep away pests or prevent diseases in towns) need to be tuned, and maintinance is an ever-constant process. Magical artifacts are powered by Weave-friction, and that causes slight damage unless a mortal soul is acting like a strainer to regulate the flow. Magical refinement of material is also feasible, as well as repair or some of the more common low-level spells like 'Alarm' as purchasable services in more wealthy towns.
It helps that there are not that MANY wizards outside of their colleges- it takes a lot of time and effort to become a wizard, and they often have other jobs in wealthy towns.
Robbing or mugging someone living in a town with a wizard college may end up with the mugger meeting their maker after getting a set of burning hands to the face.
Prestidigitation can be used for SO MUCH that any forge, especially for forming one-shot molds for rings that can be made with incredibly-delicate structures within... And other hard-to-form shapes.
Yes, teleportation circles and bags of holding are commonly-used services and products, but they are mainly offered to rich merchants, nobles, and guilds... And banks.
Psions and Broadcasters can strike down ANYTHING with an intelligence score, so golems and undead in this area can be used here. Psionic enclaves are more... Databases, and information brokers. Think internet plus library plus remote unique service provider.
Clerics are.... Different casters. Most clerics don't leave their churches/monistaries unless they are questing, or spreading their faith, and lords/knights help keep the faiths working to further their interests. Clerics can be found almost everywhere, as anyone who is willing to pray to a god and carve a holy symbol can become a cleric, but only a level 0 one without training and piety.
They provide healing, guidance, water purification, disease control, among other services.... But few products other than holy water. They do offer products, but not as many as wizards.
Other classes fill other economic niches, but the most common are fighters, rogues, and bards.
Krazyfan1
Worrying for the future.
- Location
- Australia
Hmm...
Could someone technically have a job where they get plugged into the artifact and strain the magic?
Hmm, can't Bards also do some healing spells? or is that just an Eberron thing?
Dragonmarks: Goblins said:
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Mr. Cloak
Orchestrator of Paradoxical Apocalypse
- Pronouns
- I
The magic straining job? That's one of the things nobles are good at in this fragment of the D&D universe. It's not uncommon for successful adventueres to be awarded noble titles, as their souls usually have better soul-straining than most (using magic items makes them better at it, but few people know that).
Nobles have actual value in the D&D verse- mostly in helping power large-scale wards and castle-sized protection artifacts.
Nice video.
And yes, they do- but keep in mind that most humans (as an example) rarely pass level 4 before they die if they have PC classes at all. NPC classes (commoner, farmer, artisan, millitia) are more common, and few pass level 4 anyway in those classes.
An NPC bard might be able to heal your injuries after getting kicked by a horse- but only the old, retired barkeeper who doesn't even entertain any more becuase he owns the bar in town.
After all, he'll also rant about how those damn murder-hobos accidentally wounded his dad and forced him into this shitty barkeep job, or something similar.
Better to go to the local church and ask one of their clerics for healing- they specilized in that after all.
Mr. Cloak
Orchestrator of Paradoxical Apocalypse
- Pronouns
- I
CURRENT POLL NUMBERS:
The enclave needs to start Dealing With Dragon (turtles), and therefore, three plans have been written up:
0-(a) Keep up the illusions, but try to drive the turtles off if they try to land in the city.
2-(b) Artifically extend the 'beach' area so the turtles can lay their eggs and leave, but keep up the illusion, and try to farm the turtles.
1-(c) Plan (b), with attempt to impress on the Dragon-Turtles that they are being helped.
POLL WILL END JUNE 9th AT 11:59 PM PST!
The enclave needs to start Dealing With Dragon (turtles), and therefore, three plans have been written up:
0-(a) Keep up the illusions, but try to drive the turtles off if they try to land in the city.
2-(b) Artifically extend the 'beach' area so the turtles can lay their eggs and leave, but keep up the illusion, and try to farm the turtles.
1-(c) Plan (b), with attempt to impress on the Dragon-Turtles that they are being helped.
POLL WILL END JUNE 9th AT 11:59 PM PST!
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Mr. Cloak
Orchestrator of Paradoxical Apocalypse
- Pronouns
- I
Not likely in Faerun. Maybe on another sphere.
I thought it was a specific setting different from faerun.
Mr. Cloak
Orchestrator of Paradoxical Apocalypse
- Pronouns
- I
It's A Faerun. The D&D universe with crystal spheres has.... Layers. Like an infinite cake, it's phlogostion and crystal spheres and nameless horrors all the way down.
Damn, i might steal that idea for my campaign.
Mr. Cloak
Orchestrator of Paradoxical Apocalypse
- Pronouns
- I
Sure- just try to make the nameless horrors sutably horrible.... and nameless.