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Salted Sands (A Caves of Qud-Inspired Cultivation Quest)

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That's +67 on the next roll, which I'll take. Maybe since it's combat the Kell-dice will favor me.

Edit: +41 next up!
mythfan12 threw 1 100-faced dice. Total: 74
74 74
 
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The setting of Salted Sands is one of extreme disparity. Wealth, power, and population are all examples of this difference, but today we are speaking of the gap in technology.

Some oases are places of high technology, others are little more than pre-industrial societies. The reason for this is that electronics do not work in the Sands. Any electronic device must either be transported in specially treated containers or repaired upon arrival, which massively increases costs.

Robots and machines are standard in higher technology oases. Laser weapons are common and force fields are everywhere.
 
I.F. Ister said:
The reason for this is that electronics do not work in the Sands. Any electronic device must either be transported in specially treated containers or repaired upon arrival, which massively increases costs.

Robots and machines are standard in higher technology oases. Laser weapons are common and force fields are everywhere.
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Interesting… this makes me curious:
Is there an underground component to the sands? Will there be sultan dungeon and ruin tile equivalents?
 
I, High Singing Scribe Julianos, have recently been made aware of the greater Sands' lack of knowledge of the various species and races that inhabit its oases. In an attempt to rectify that gap of information, I am writing this article on the three most common species that call these lands home. For clarification, 'common' here means the likelihood of one encountering them in their day to day existences. Many, many creatures are more numerous than all three combined, but, as they do not adventure as much, they are not considered 'common'.

Starting with the most common, we have humanity and its descendants. A 'human' is defined as a tall, relatively hairless, bipedal, hominid with a penchant for cleverness and greed. Humans come equipped with four limbs, two ambulatory, two manipulators, each ending in five digits. Humans also have two eyes, two ears, a nose, and a mouth alongside hair on their head and, on occasion, their face. Humans are naturally able to more easily manage mutations, psionics, and ka than most other species. Humans also have the greatest amount of sub-species of any species in the world, examples of which include 'elves', 'dwarves', and 'gnomes'. Many profess that such sub-species are little more than inheritable mutations and not true branches of evolution.

Moving on, we come to one of the most common, if irritating, species in all the oases; hyaenidae, or, in common parlance, snapjaws. Snapjaws are not overtly intelligent creatures. They are primarily concerned with collecting scrap and valuables and are not afraid of committing acts of violence to acquire more of it. Some snapjaws are traders, though most ride their more animalistic hyena cousins to raid. Snapjaws have a ferocious bite and come in large packs.

Dromads are a common sight to those who cross the Sands. If there could be such a thing as a denizen of the Sands, it would be the dromads. Equipped with humps with which to store water, they roam the wastes in trade caravans. Sometimes, a dromad caravan on hard times will turn to banditry and begin to prey upon those weaker than them.
 
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I.F. Ister said:
Humans are naturally able to more easily manage mutations, psionics, and ka than most other species.
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*pulls out 3rd-party source books* "So, I'm picking Increased Lung Capacity for my 6th-level mutation, and when I combine it with the Meditative Trance ability I get from my psionics dual-class, it should just allow me to fulfill the conditions to unlock ka."
 
Silverking said:
*pulls out 3rd-party source books* "So, I'm picking Increased Lung Capacity for my 6th-level mutation, and when I combine it with the Meditative Trance ability I get from my psionics dual-class, it should just allow me to fulfill the conditions to unlock ka."
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*checks character sheet*

The meditative trance is a good idea, but to really make it work you're going to want to get ultra-slow heart rate too
 
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Melkan Downtime Part 1
  • Threadmarks
    • [X] Plan Let's Goo Hunting
    -[X] **Hunting Spawnlings** (Reward: $25, 2 XP, 100 Rep) (Combat 3)
    -[X] **Standing Guard** (Reward: $15, 1 XP, 50 Rep)
    -[X] Talk to People
    --[X] Ask Karter who we could go to in order to find out more about Ka and how to gain it quicker, then talk to those people.
    --[X] Ask Karter what he knows about mutations, psionics, being Salt-Touched, and why his mother is like she is
    --[X] Ask Karter if there are any local dangers we should look out for.
    --[X] Inquire about getting a Melkan Merchant's license/citizenship so that you can act as a proper gunsmith
    --[X] Develop your relationship with Scorch-flo, the Bomberbush, to secure a source of gunpowder
    --[X] Ask around for information about when caravans show up.
    --[X] Ask around if someone has a map that they would allow us to copy.
    --[X] Ask around for people with obscure knowledge.
    -[X] Spend 9 XP
    --[X] +1 Movement Stat, +1 Ride Skill (2 xp)
    --[X] +2 One-Handed Stat (3 xp)
    --[X] +1 Unarmed Stat (1 xp)
    --[X] +1 Scouting Skill (1 xp)
    --[X] +1 Social Stat (2 xp)
    -[X] Suggest Karter spend 4 xp
    --[X] Unarmed Stat 1 (1 xp), Perception Stat 3,
    -[X] Purchases
    --[X] **Combat Knife** (+8 to Combat) ($7)
    --[X] **Sturdy Boots** (+3 to Movement) ($2)
    --[X] **Armor-Piercing Rounds** ($12)
    0~0~0

    Located at the edge of Melka proper, the freshly purchased home of Karter of Melka is, well, very 'new'. The not-quite shanty building has four walls and a roof, as is required to be considered a house, but it very clearly wasn't there just a few days prior. The rust-red walls still gleam with wet paint and the entry-cloth drags against the ground—it will need to be cut to size in the coming days. The windows are little more than square-edged holes and lack even the thinnest cloth to keep out the outside.

    "So," Karter says as he sweeps aside the entry-cloth, exposing the inside of his newly acquired abode to all curious onlookers, "what do you think?"

    The empty interior is as stark as its white walls. Though a one-room affair, the building still has enough open space to feel almost oppressive in its emptiness. The walls seem to stretch for miles as the dusty floors cling to one's boots. The air is thick with the smell of paint and the wind eagerly whistles as it winnows through open windows, the freshness falling to the wayside.

    "It," Kell blinks, his salted eyes confirming the sight before him, "is very empty."

    "And that, dear cousin," Karter spreads his arms wide as he steps backwards into the space, Kell following a few steps behind, "is where you come in." A swift hand vanishes into his robes only to emerge with a small leather sack bulging with coins. "As ill-fortune would have it, I've been selected for a long patrol and, though I would rather it not, I will be away for a fair few weeks." Tossing the bag Kell's way, he continues in his rather theatrical, over-the-top manner, "In the meantime, this should be enough to provide for food and furnishings."

    Opening the bag and peering inside, silver and copper coins bathe Kell in a shimmering glow. "I will be sure to spend this wisely."

    Karter nods and sighs before stepping in close. "In all seriousness," he says, dropping the flamboyant act, "I'm sorry that I have to leave so soon. As an outrider, I have a duty to Melka that cannot be refused."

    Kell shakes his head, "Do not be sorry. If it is your duty, then it is your duty."

    Karter lets his head fall, mask angling towards the floor, "Still..." He trails off for a long moment as silence echoes in the empty space. After a long pause, he sucks down a sharp breath and lifts his head, shattered eyes gleaming with renewed vigor, "Regardless, there's a few things you should know before I depart."

    "Such as?"

    "Such as the local dangers," a shine of humor enters his eye as he continues, "and I'm not talking about the wildlife." Clearing his throat with a swallow, Karter turns away from Kell while lifting a finger to the ceiling, "Melka is a village split a dozen ways. The mist-shamans, of which there are twelve, are the political powers of Melka and have a say in almost everything that goes down within its boundaries."

    Kell's lips thin as Karo enters his mind, "I think I can see where this is going. I am kin to a mist-shaman, so I must be careful with how I conduct myself."

    Karter snorts, "Accurate as always, Kell." He nods and continues, mask tilting towards the sun-facing window. "Mama is a mist-shaman, so she has stake in the politics of Melka." He shrugs as he pauses, carefully considering his next words, "I understand if you don't care for her, given the way she's acted towards you, but I still love my mama. I don't want to see her humiliated, you know?"

    "I understand, going to other mist-shamans would put Karo's standing in question."

    "That's not to say that I'd be mad at you or anything, if you did," Karter is quick to clarify with a shake of the hands, "All I'm saying is that it might be in our best interests if we didn't step on mama's toes."

    "How so?"

    "Well," Karter scratches at his neck as he looks away, "Mama isn't, you know, she doesn't mean to hurt you or anything, she's just, well, she's just being unfair to you." Karter sucks down a sharp breath, his bandaged fingers running through his hair as he starts to ramble, "Papa... Papa was killed by a man with salted eyes." The words rush like water from a broken dam. First a crack, then all at once, "She loved him, you know, and his death broke her. That's what everyone says."

    Kell listens, quiet as a prey-beast in an open field, as Karter tries his best to cover for his mother's insults. It's obvious that's what he's doing, as Kell would do the same in his shoes. However, that doesn't answer the newly arisen questions, "If Karo hates me because of my eyes, then why do you not?"

    "Happened before I was born," Karter shrugs before adding, "And I just get a really good feeling about you, you know?"

    Kell blinks, shock radiating from deep within. People don't have 'good feelings' about him. That's just not something that happens. Never before, but apparently now? "Really?"

    "Yeah!" Karter laughs, placing a hand on Kell's shoulder, "You give off a fantastic energy!"

    Kell stares, not entirely certain if his eyes would help him with auditory hallucinations, "If you say so."

    "I do!" Karter nods, a happy shine to his shattered eyes, before stepping back and recentering himself, "But, back to what I was saying. While the other mist-shamans might not be a fantastic idea, there is one person who can help you if you need it; the Eldermost." The name alone radiates wisdom as it reverberates about the room. "The Eldermost lends his wisdom to the common folk and knows a thing or two about a thing or two."

    "Do you think he'll be able to help me unlock my ka?"

    Karter shrugs, "Maybe? He'll certainly be able to teach you about ka until I get back." He pauses, shoulders falling as he does, "Sorry about that, by the way. I'll see if I can't get a month or two off until your siblings are up and active, but I'll only be able to put the request in when I get back."

    "Do not worry about it," Kell waves him off, "I will manage, as I always have."

    Karter's gaze lingers for a moment too long, "Well, if you need any more money, the village guards are always looking for capable volunteers. I'm sure you can find a hunting job or two, if you have a look around." His eyes flick towards the door, where a group of armored men approach on mounts, "Looks like my patrol group is here," taking a step towards the door, Karter pauses and offers a wave Kell's way, "I'll see you when I get back, Kell."

    "I will see you too, Karter." The words feel odd and stilted in Kell's mouth, too friendly for his tongue.

    Karter's eyes smile and then he's gone.

    And Kell is alone, again.

    0~0~0

    The mist-swept village of Melka is a pretty sight in any stretch of the imagination. Built into the basin of a shallow valley, silkworms stretch thread from tree branch to tree branch as Melkans go about their everyday lives. The morning walk from home to work is a downwards stroll, thanks to the residential sectors being built towards the outer portions of the basin while the commercial zones find themselves more in the center of the bowl. Deep in the middle of the village, where the ground is flattest, is where the important buildings—minus the mist-shamans, who live in equidistant houses on the outskirts—find homes.

    Walking through the well-trodden streets of Melka, Kell finds himself surrounded by people of all forms and sizes. Horns spiral from some brows as tails thrash to and fro. Wings flap as be-beaked merchants haggle with fur-clad, pinch-fingered shoppers. Shouting voices raised in anger quiet as the watchful eye of bronze-clad warriors pass by, padded clubs dangling from their thick wrists. All are human, but not the kind of human he's most familiar with.

    Melka, though far more remote and isolated than Surran, seems to have been exposed to far more mutations than its neighborly kin. Surran was comprised of mostly standard human. The most you'd see would be a patch of scales or a sharpened maw, not nearly to the extent of what he now finds himself immersed in.

    Winding through the streets, Kell winds up within a well-stocked market straddling the line between work and home. A cobbler shouts the virtues of their work while a weaponsmith shows off how keen his weapons are as he cleaves bricks in half with a single strike. A gunsmith, though one of lesser skill than Father, has more than enough ammunition to fuel an automatic-armed army.

    With the weight of his coinpurse a constant companion to his senses, Kell shrugs and decides to lighten it a bit. From the cobbler he buys a pair of sturdy boots to replace the set of shoes he's rapidly outgrowing. The weaponsmith provides him with a new knife more combat-capable than the utility blade he's been working with up until this point. Though it does somewhat rankle his pride, he does purchase a box of armor-piercing rounds from the gunsmith. All in all, a decent set of purchases, especially considering his fairly limited funds.

    Stopping at a stall just as a customer leaves with armfuls of food clutched in their quartet of grabbing limbs, Kell finds himself with an empty stomach and the coin to fill it. The portly merchant eyes Kell with a trio of blue eyes as his fingers twist together in subconscious patterns.

    "Welcome to my stall," the merchant spreads his arms as Kell's eyes wander across the plethora of products both food and not on display, "anything catch your interest?"

    Fresh bread warms Kell's fingers as he picks up a loaf. Tossing over the agreed upon amount, Kell tears away chunks of bread as he considers his next step. The Eldermost will, like as not, be his next destination, but he might as well gather some information while he's here. Swallowing the morsel in his mouth, Kell turns a question towards the merchant, "How often do products rotate?"

    The merchant's large fingers scratch at the stubble clinging to his chin, "Depends on what you're looking for, but when the caravans come is when it's guaranteed." The merchant nods to himself before adding, "And the next caravan will come whenever the harvest is complete, the silk is sold in Nash, and then returns with all the luxuries and the like to then sell here."

    Kell blinks as the man's words wash over him like a wave of water. After taking a moment to parse through the jumbled-up pile of syllables, Kell continues, "When will the harvest be finished?"

    The merchant squints, "Eh, probably about a month?"

    Thanking the merchant for his time, Kell pays for another loaf of bread before turning his mind towards the next matter; the Eldermost.

    Venturing deeper into Melka, it doesn't take long to find the Eldermost's home. A squat building of warm colors and fine materials, the house is kept safe and sound by a pair of bronze-armored guards. They stand on either side of the door with spears planted in the ground and rifles pressed to a shoulder, their eyes lingering on Kell and his weapons as he approaches.

    "Greetings, far-traveler," the right guard speaks as Kell stops, "what is your business with the Eldermost?"

    "I am looking for advice and lessons in ka," Kell's answer brings nods from both guards.

    "A noble venture," the guard says as he holds out an open hand, "I will ask that you leave your weapons with us, for the Eldermost is an old man and is not a foe worthy of fighting."

    The knife leaves his person with ease, but his pistols find a snap. Kell hesitates, his fingers lingering over the clasp of his revolvers as his heart hammers and his breathing quickens. A heartbeat passes as the guards share a brief glance. One opens his mouth but closes it as Kell takes a deep breath and hands over the last of his weapons.

    "Sorry," Kell whispers, but the guards pay him no heed as they wave him on through.

    Inside, the Eldermost's house is a simple affair. Decorated sparsely and covered in pictures and drawings of those who can only be friends, family, and, presumably, the Eldermost himself, the room is large and contains little more than a plethora of well-stuffed cushions. A balding graybeard bent double with age, the Eldermost sits cross-legged in the middle of the room with his eyes closed in deep meditation.

    As Kell takes a step inside, a harsh, phlegmy snore reveals the truth of the matter. A quiet cough does little to shake him from his slumber, forcing Kell to escalate. Closing the distance with a set of short strides, Kell's hand finds the graybeard's shoulder with a gentle jostle.

    Nothing. No response.

    Kell blinks, the Eldermost doesn't.

    Just as he turns around to go ask one of the guards, a sharp, gurgling sound tears its way out the Eldermost's throat as his eyes snap open. The Eldermost quickly scrambles to his feet, brushes crumbs from beard and clothes, and opens his arms wide with a broad smile on his face, "Hello, hi!"

    Kell blinks, "Hello?"

    "Hi!" The Eldermost repeats as he sinks back down to the cushions, "Please, have a seat." He pauses, as if realizing something potentially important, before continuing, "Do I know you?"

    "My name is Kell Nakesh," Kell says as he does as asked. "I am from Surran."

    "I don't know you, then," the Eldermost breathes out a sigh of relief as he wipes a hand across his brow, "Boy oh boy," he chuckles, "I'd worried you were one of my great-grandkids here to see me!"

    "I do not think I am," Kell says after a moment's thought on the subject, "But I am here in search of advice and lessons on ka."

    The Eldermost purses his lips, eyes narrowing, "Advice on what?"

    "On Melka," Kell says as he reaches into his robes and takes out the odd injector, "I am also looking for information on this."

    The Eldermost eyes the syringe for a brief moment, the gears turning inside his head, before recognition lights up his gaze, "Ah, clottundium! An ever-useful substance, that."

    "What does it do?" Kell returns the clottundium injector to his robes, "And do you have a map I can copy?"

    "Of course, here," the Eldermost whistles a sharp note through his beard as a string of silvery ka leaves his lips and reaches into one of the many containers lining the room. From the container, the strand draws a folded map and presents it to Kell, "Here, you can keep it."

    "My thanks," Kell says as he gingerly takes the over-folded map, "but, the clottundium?"

    The Eldermost blinks and clears his throat, "Ah, yes, clottundium. It speeds up blood clotting and also gives you a bit of a regenerative kick. Not much of one, not enough to fix a missing arm or something, but it'll keep you in fighting form."

    Kell nods, his eyes falling to the now-unfolded map, "and the ka?"

    The Eldermost's lips thin as a grimace flashes across his face, "You said you were from Surran, yes?"

    "I did, and I am."

    "Then, according to the Baron's laws, I cannot teach you." Silence reigns as Kell sighs, his thoughts turning to that dark place at the monsterhive. "However, what the Baron doesn't know can and will hurt him."

    Kell's eyes narrow, "What are you saying?"

    "Swear to me that you will kill the Baron, and I will teach you ka." The Eldermost's eyes, once slightly hazy and filled with the dim glow of the elderly, now shine with utter clarity and complete focus. An energy belonging to a man significantly younger now runs through his body as his breathing sharpens to a fine edge. "Promise me this, and you will have ka."

    [ ] "I promise"
    [ ] "I cannot"

    0~0~0

    Author's Note: This is not an instant unlock. You will still have to train for and prepare to breathe the tides. It will, however, be easier.

    No moratorium
     
  • Threadmarks
    • [X] "I promise"

    Unrelated to the vote, but Karter shouldn't be making excuses for his ma's shitty behavior. Leaves a bad taste in my mouth. "Oh no why don't you just suffer through my mom's racism some more in order to not hurt her political standing" fuck off Karter.
     
    Oseanman said:
    Unrelated to the vote, but Karter shouldn't be making excuses for his ma's shitty behavior. Leaves a bad taste in my mouth. "Oh no why don't you just suffer through my mom's racism some more in order to not hurt her political standing" fuck off Karter.
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    Hmm, that's a good point and not something I thought about. I may go back and make some edits, as that is not what I intended
     
    Guy is allowed to be biased towards the woman who raised him, and not want her standing (and that of his family) shaken.

    We don't have to like her, but Karter is allowed to do so, and likely does.
     
    Honestly, he very specifically said he wouldn't be mad at Kell if he stepped on her toes, just that it might be a good idea not to. Seems reasonable to me.
     
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