Never Full: A Tale of Adventure, Curiosity and Hunger Without Ending [Original Quest]

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[X] The map door will give if the both of us work at it. It smells like machinery, salt water, and mildew. A different biome entirely will offer some new opportunities, and maybe even feed out into the Unfound Sea proper. Either way, plunder or escape, I think it's work going to find out, don't you?

I suppose now we know where all the body parts of the sacred cattle of Savnok that Mock Vey bought have ended up. Savnok and Scal are both gods of the Oriza, which makes building a temple to Scal made of bones and skin of the sacred cattle seem rather sacrilegious. Maybe this is supposed to be some kind of mockery? Or maybe there is some hostility between Savnok and Scal?

Speculation aside, while there is something fucky going on, I don't see any good reason to stay where we are.
 
Netos said:
When I started reading I had about as much simpathy for the Locusts as one would have for those in Dark Souls 3 - that is, none at all, you just wish for an exterminator. Now it's kinda grey and there is a bit of empathy, which is good.
Still, a pity that the silly humans / other races can't wait to turn into something less - I mean, other than human. Locusts, really? It makes me wish for a character that wants to do whatever it takes from the shadows to end the usage of the Ves forever. It's not Grail though for obvious reasons.
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Consider that the Ves is often taken young -- thirteen or so -- and can turn you from a weedy, disenfranchised orphan into someone who can fend for themselves.

There are certainly those Vesakh who take issue with their culture at large -- I write one, even, lmao -- but for an abandoned youth, why would you turn down the chance to become something more than what has been written in your genes? To help yourself where society will not? The Vesakh are individuals, numerous and varied as any other people.

THOU WHO ART VESAKH ART CHOSEN...
 
The Scab Palace 31
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    • [X] The map door will give if the both of us work at it. It smells like machinery, salt water, and mildew. A different biome entirely will offer some new opportunities, and maybe even feed out into the Unfound Sea proper. Either way, plunder or escape, I think it's worth going to find out, don't you?

    "We take this route," you decide, heading towards the brazen door with its map-like patterns. "Smells like sea, smells like mechanisms. It might just lead us out to the Unfound, or at least to somewhere with a different environment to take advantage of. The other door... I don't trust like that. Yeah?"
    Steele shrugs, raising her pistol. "Fine by me. You see a way to open the damn thing?"
    You grin and gesture to her. "You're the best key I see."
    Her answering grin is bright as the sun. "Aw, thanks for noticing!"
    The sound of you and Steele alternating tooth-rattling kicks on the door drowns out even the drumming, which you'd like to believe falters for just a moment as the pair of you absolutely whale on the damn thing. The porthole shatters, the delicate patterns are hammered to nothing, and the metal creaks and rings and shudders, until, with the rotten tearing sound of hinges being yanked from the frame hard enough to rip the hide walls, the door crumples in, giving way before the absolute force you and Steele can bring to bear. Beyond is a corridor of brazen machinery and a wet stone floor, the smell of brine and mechanisms pouring out into the close atmosphere of the "temple" longhouse. You get inside and wrestle the door "back in place," a little muscle from Steele and a dose of cofferwax from you making it into a nice obstruction in the doorway for whatever comes sniffing after you. Steele gestures down the length of the hallway, voice echoing down a passage that drips with saltwater from the ceiling and hisses with whatever machinery turns within the walls.
    "After you."

    Spear in one hand and gun in the other, the noise of your tarsals on the wet stone floor is the loudest thing in the world as you lead the way down the passageway, turns and switchbacks and pseudo-forks that reveal themselves to have just been brief loops and partings in a single path. The pipes above gurgle, the water drips, the pistons and wheels hiss and clank and clatter, but for some reason it's the click click click of your own damn feet which stands out the most to you. Nerves, is all it has to be. You've gotten this deep into hostile territory and are loaded down with loot and lucre, and you've made an ally who's absolutely stronger and more experienced than you are, at least for now, plus something you've never fought is chasing you with intent to destroy. Anyone would be nervous, wouldn't they? Well, you're not just anyone. One of the Elect is supposed to be above things like being nervous in the brink of success, but your nerves are singing like a garrote-wire, everything tense and sharp and standing out, the sensation of something approaching humming through your entire body. You knew already that you were being hunted, but that sensation's narrowed down real fast from general to specific. Something's in these hallways with you right now, and it's probably not friendly.
    "Eyes open. I feel like we're about to have company," you whisper, slowly cocking the hammer on your pistol as your grip on the spear shifts to a throw-thrust stance. Steele nods, raising her own weapon.
    The presence doesn't keep you waiting too long.

    At another intersection, there's a puddle of seawater, just like the ones scattered all along this waterlogged stretch of Palace, but unlike those others, it's reflecting a starry night sky rather than the pipes and ducts of the ceiling. You and Steele spread to opposing sides of the hall before approaching cautiously, guns leveled, and after a moment your caution is rewarded. The surface of the puddle explodes, water scything out in an ankle-level wave that just fails to reach either of you, and a gigantic watery tentacle waves there, far longer and thicker than the volume of the puddle would allow. Saltwater with a murky blue tint to it, starry lights moving up and down in it like bubbles, a crude and rudimentary length shaped to the most basic of all limbs as it waves around.
    You both fire at once, bullets splashing through the water--that was reflex more than anything else, as neither of you expected gunfire to do much to animate seawater.
    "Run!" you both call, again simultaneously--no time to laugh about it this time, though.
    The cautious crawl through the tunnels becomes a break-neck chase as every single puddle sprouts a tentacle of its very own to harass you. Murky limbs of animated seawater thrash out of the floor and walls, splashing down with bonecrushing force inches from your sides and heels as you hurtle through the halls. The pipes gradually become sparser, cruder, more corroded, the floor smoother and more eroded, the walls wider and the ceiling higher, but the tentacles don't let up as the pair of you run. Spears and fists and bullets are of no use against this foe, and neither of you is the kind of magician with a personal trick that'd come in handy right about now.

    Eventually, you come to a dead end. A cliff, below which is dark water, and across which is another massive circular hatch, this one of iron so corroded that the entire thing and the rock in a bloom around it is rust-red. When the tentacles catch up, you'll have nowhere to go, unless...
    [ ] Get Steele to fly you up into the blackness of the ceiling.
    [ ] Dive into the water below and try to swim your way out.
    [ ] Try the hatch across the chamber, though it may take time and is a mystery.
    [ ] Charge back through the tentacles.
     
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    • [X] Try the hatch across the chamber, though it may take time and is a mystery.

    Mystery box!
    Was the guardian always going to be this kind of intangible poltergeist-style foe, or did the exact nature depend on which route we took?
     
    [X] Get Steele to fly you up into the blackness of the ceiling.

    I wonder whether the machinery is active. If so, maybe we could throw a spanner in the works if we come upon any further engines. We are supposed to go loud, and creating extra mayhem is part of any good exit strategy, once stealth has failed.
     
    Is this a chance to actually fail and die / be captured? Nice, I like that in quests, even if it's just when I was starting to like our Locust.
    Espernyan said:
    for an abandoned youth, why would you turn down the chance to become something more than what has been written in your genes? To help yourself where society will not? The Vesakh are individuals, numerous and varied as any other people.
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    That's actually a nice perspective on magical transhumanism, instead of the usual "coolVampire McMidnight" or the occasional "Mr.Burger Werewolfer". Locusts mutate in a way that is the opposite of conventional (or even Gothic) cool-ness, and a Gandalf of the setting would say that "though thou should always be wary around them, thou should also pity them as well".

    Let's give our best shot at getting out of this in one piece...
    [X] Get Steele to fly you up into the blackness of the ceiling.
    We must be ready to lose loot and weight if we do this. If there is no safe place to land in 1 kilometer of distance Steele may very well falter and fall.
    Can we get an update on which equipment we have so we can drop some and help whatever roll the flight entails?
     
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    Netos said:
    Can we get an update on which equipment we have so we can drop some and help whatever roll the flight entails?
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    I've lost track of exactly what we have right now but I'll be checking back to make sure soon unless someone beats me to the punch
    Apologies, I've just been juggling finals and decompression and such and so forth
    Glad you're enjoying the quest!
     
    Netos said:
    That's actually a nice perspective on magical transhumanism, instead of the usual "coolVampire McMidnight" or the occasional "Mr.Burger Werewolfer". Locusts mutate in a way that is the opposite of conventional (or even Gothic) cool-ness, and a Gandalf of the setting would say that "though thou should always be wary around them, thou should also pity them as well".
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    Yeah! Spirit - spoilers for things implied in alway someth but not stated outright - was a sickly lil' foundling, and is able to be healthy becuase of the Ves . The Vesakh are, at the end of the day, people. Weird, hungry mutant people, but people nonetheless.

    Wicked Sanguine said:
    I've lost track of exactly what we have right now but I'll be checking back to make sure soon unless someone beats me to the punch
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    All is well, do not do a worry
     
    On my birthday I'd like to wish y'all a good time, apologize for my recent silence, promise more to come, and thank you for your readership and response! Warm Regards To All Y'all
     
    Hey, so feeling a little mental block, as y'all might have guessed
    Just a little burnt-out from November's grind, plus holidays and my birthday
    I should be back at it in the post-holiday, but I wanted to be explicit about it and assure you that Never Full isn't going anywhere, I just need a little break and to admit to myself that I'm taking a break. See you soon, and thank you so much for being my readers.
     
    The Scab Palace 32
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    • [X] Get Steele to fly you up into the blackness of the ceiling.

    Hey, welcome back to Never Full, did you miss me? I missed you! It's 2021! Last year was objectively... insane, and bad, but I personally got to start this crazy thing and did a lot of personal growth. I love this story, and my readers. Let's do our best, yeah! And now the lass herself welcomes you back to the city of Iash Qoma.
    Stay hungry, readers. Love, Sang

    The crash of water behind you is getting louder, the tentacles almost seeming to grow angrier as they smash out of the puddles into the walls, the splashing creating more puddles for more tendrils to emerge. The way back is becoming a crusher, through which neither of you can escape. There are a few options for escape, but going down would put you in the water, which feels like an unacceptable risk at this point, and going across would make you have to deal with that hatch, which could waste too much time. The only way that's really tenable is straight up into the black.
    "Steele!" you call. "We have to go straight up!"
    She doesn't waste time answering aloud, instead just nodding and gathering you in her arm. You fight down the fluttering in your belly as she squeezes you to her, crouches, spreads her wings and leaps into the air, powerful muscles flinging the pair of you into flight like a dragonkilling round fired from a cannon. Time seems to slow to a crawl as the wind whistles around your ears, and you're able to capture the next few moments in a series of mental snap images, discrete scenes that, try as you might, you may just never forget.

    Hurtling up into the air, with a feeling in your stomach that is half suddenly-hurtling-skyward type of lurch, half in-the-arms-of-a-beautiful-woman-who-could-easily-kill-you-with-a-brisk-squeeze type of lurch.

    The water tentacles surging out of the tunnel and crashing onto the ledge, forming an enormous puddle from which more violently emerge, curling and thrashing upwards towards your rising forms.

    The cold damp darkness of the cavern ceiling enfolding and embracing, like having a wet sheet thrown over you.

    The glimmer of something shining, high up amid the dangling pillars of stone, too far and small for even you to see from here.

    You scream towards the ceiling, propelled by the golden force of Steele's savvy, with the roar of the cresting waves beneath you blocking out even the sound of your own blood in your ears, and as the darkness continues a small, awful part of you is seized with the conviction that you're flying towards a mineral glint on the ceiling, that you're about to splatter like a gull on an airship's envelope, and that if you survive you'll just be peeled off the stalagmites by the water.
    For one split second, there, you accept that you are about to die.

    And then Steele punches through the roof.

    A thin stone hatch explodes in shrapnel all around the pair of you as you rise through the floor into a high, cylindrical room. White light streams through the glass ceiling, and the granite walls are partially covered in engraved plates of metal, six-sided and densely inscribed with letters in Hruzhan script. The pair of you roll onto the floor, and instinct makes you kick Steele away--good thing, too, as it knocks her foot shy of the hole in the floor, which heals up like the last bullet wound you took. Only your hearing can pick out the sound of the waves crashing against the underside of the repaired stone floor.
    Steele flops onto her back, and lets out a breath, chest rising and falling in a way both reassuring and mesmerizing. You turn your face away, flushed, and join her in catching your breath. Presently,
    "How'd they get sunlight in here?" you muse, staring up at the ceiling.
    "Ain't sunlight," Steele replies. You're lying on your backs, just looking up and trying to breathe.
    "'S a wherewindow. Connected to a window somewhere in...Noster, looks like. You only get sharp white sun like that in the far northwest."
    "Huh. You've been there?"
    "Yeah, plus I can tell a resonant item when I see one from a mile away. Shines like lies do to your folks."
    Huh. Resonant detection of some kind... it's gonna be useful to know she can do that, whether you remain allies or become foes in the future.
    "I've never been anywhere but Qoma and Vespergren," you admit, "and the sun isn't exactly a reliable and trusted friend up there. I'd only seen it twice before I went topside this morning..." Fuck, this morning. All this has happened in only a single day... Feels like you've been down here for months.
    "Wow, you had to come to Qoma for sunlight? That's the saddest thing I ever heard get said. Out west, like proper west-west and some of the south, the sun's just right there, you know? Most important consideration is how bright it's gonna be and where and when there's gonna be cloud cover. Like tracking the winds down here."
    She trails off into comfortable silence.

    Unfortunately, neither of you are in safe enough a place to enjoy the respite for long. You clamber to your feet and take a good look around. The plates are related to Oriza history or religion, but that's all you've got, and the chamber has but a single wooden door, currently closed. You quickly check all your things, Steele doing the same--luckily you've both managed to hold onto everything you've looted up until now, the water chase not having managed to have robbed you of anything important. She looks to you, giving you a little smile that warms your heart.
    "We've made it this far following your nose, Grail. Lead us home."
    'Lead us home.' Lot of pressure being put on you. You've generally tried to avoid that kind of being relied upon... can it really just be your urges that makes the idea of receiving that attention, that faith, from a beautiful woman more inspiring than terrifying? Are you this soft of a touch?

    You listen at the door before opening it, revealing...
    [ ] A wall of wooden planks covering the entrance, with the raucous sound of dancing and drums and chimes coming from behind, and the smell of smoke, meat, spices... and fresh air.
    [ ] A long spiral staircase of dark stone with a red carpet runner, lined with crystalline torches, down which drifts the smell of deep-cavern moisture, running water... and fresh air.
    [ ] A massive hexagonal room with rows of descending wooden benches, a central area spread with sand, the sound of thundering feet and hooves approaching, the smell of blood and iron and fear... and fresh air.
     
  • Threadmarks
    • [X] A wall of wooden planks covering the entrance, with the raucous sound of dancing and drums and chimes coming from behind, and the smell of smoke, meat, spices... and fresh air.
     
    [X] A massive hexagonal room with rows of descending wooden benches, a central area spread with sand, the sound of thundering feet and hooves approaching, the smell of blood and iron and fear... and fresh air.
     
    [ ✅ ] A wall of wooden planks covering the entrance, with the raucous sound of dancing and drums and chimes coming from behind, and the smell of smoke, meat, spices... and fresh air
    get in, loser, we're going partying
    ANYWHERE BUT THAT STAIRCASE

    also

    Wicked Sanguine said:
    She looks to you, giving you a little smile that warms your heart.
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    GRAIL NEVERFULL, I diagnose thee with horny, and Big Gay,
     
    [X] A wall of wooden planks covering the entrance, with the raucous sound of dancing and drums and chimes coming from behind, and the smell of smoke, meat, spices... and fresh air.
     
    [X] A wall of wooden planks covering the entrance, with the raucous sound of dancing and drums and chimes coming from behind, and the smell of smoke, meat, spices... and fresh air.
     
    Wicked Sanguine said:
    You turn your face away, flushed, and join her in catching your breath. Presently,
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    Is the sentence is unfinished, or is it just weird formatting?
    Wicked Sanguine said:
    "Yeah, plus I can tell a resonant item when I see one from a mile away. Shines like lies do to your folks."
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    A resonant item? Don't think I've heard the term before. Or... perhaps we did, once?
    Wicked Sanguine said:
    You take a sip as the Factor spreads out a scroll with an elaborate circle of channeling runes in golden ink printed on it, sets the skull in the center, and arranges appropriately resonant objects in the proper spaces around it--candles, bits of mirror, lenses, a lodestone, the skull of a falcon, the dried husk of a cartographer bee.
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    Does it mean "something that has a connection to some other item or entity through magical means"?

    [x] A long spiral staircase of dark stone with a red carpet runner, lined with crystalline torches, down which drifts the smell of deep-cavern moisture, running water... and fresh air.

    As fun as crashing a party could be, let's keep following the water. There can't be two of those things, can there? :whistle:
     
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