ADVENTURE LOG: August 2–5, 2018
"See you in time."
The following developments occurred in the aftermath of the Battle of the North Woods but before the great council in the brewery, played via e-mail from Thursday, August 2, to Sunday, August 5.
Following the battle, the four adventurers helped the people care for the gravely wounded. Ven drew on healing magic as well as more mundane means to save twenty-five lives, while Korric and Nik aided in the effort, together saving five additional people.
Korric found a three-foot quarterstaff on the body of the dead drow mage. Ven immediately detected the whiff of chaotic evil emanating from the weapon. Nik unwisely decided to loot the bodies of the dead Clockmaker and his young apprentice, Ben. She managed to dip a single claw into the pocket of the old man's vest but was immediately set upon by the stone giant, who let out an enraged howl and came charging over to her, clasped her by the throat in both fists, and hoisted her into the air. An angry mob of villagers surrounded the tiefling.
Korric attempted to diffuse the situation. “Apologies my big friend, she was wrong in her actions," he said, shouting to make his voice heard over the crowd. "After all the lives lost today, do we really want to add one more?”
Ven too urged the people to remain calm, reminding them that the tiefling was chiefly responsible for saving their lives that day. "We have pledged to fight the Synarch, and in doing so we are committed to ridding this land of the foul drow who murdered so many of your friends and family. If you harm her,” he said, pointing to Nik, “you harm yourselves.”
The cleric then strode over to the giant and Nik and cast Guidance on Nik, enhancing her charisma—and a good thing that he did, because the demon was clearly about to die.
Angered that the tiefling would desecrate the bodies of Ben and his beloved Clockmaker, the stone giant began to squeeze, fully intending to crush her neck in his massive fists. But the demon's powers of persuasion, honed during her time as an urchin in the sprawling downside-up slums of the Splinterdawn—and aided by Ven's magic—caused the giant to take pause.
"I see the grief you wear like a soaked shroud about you," the winged demon communicated to him telepathically, reaching deep into the giant's mind. "I am sorry for your loss."
Though he would have truly enjoyed nothing better than to gaze into the demon's eyes as the light in them faded and went out, he couldn't bring himself to do it.
He hurled the tiefling into the dirt and stood over her menacingly, huffing like an irate bull, his huge fists clenched, his teeth bared.
A young girl, who lost both of her parents to the drow's killing pit, came over and gently lay a hand on his arm. He looked down at her, and his eyes brimmed with tears.
"It will be okay, giant," the girl assured him.
Though irate, the mob of villagers was afraid to get any closer to the demon. Nobody wanted to be the first to have a go at her. Finally, the miller's son turned away from her in disgust, muttering something about how the dead needed tending to. The crowd reluctantly dispersed. People gave her hostile looks as they passed.
"Filthy offworlders," one old woman said under her breath.
Shunned by the townsfolk, Nik retreated to a copse of trees to inspect a mystifying object that she managed to slip from the pocket of the Clockmaker's vest right before the stone giant attacked her: it was an envelope with a single name written on the front.
It was addressed to her, Nicadeamus.
Opening it, she read the letter inside. Shaken by what she read, she returned to her three companions and said, "You all very much need to read this."
The contents of the letter were as follows:
Dear demon,
If you are reading this, then I am dead. That is to say, I have died in the branch of the time track that you now find yourself. I can assure you that I survive the drow pogrom in other tracks, yet I die in others. I wonder, which death did you witness? Did I die by fire? Did I burn for 18 days? Or was my life extinguished like an afterthought by a drow arrow?
As you approach the awful truth of Darkmanse, you may hear phrases such as “caught in the flow (or the push)” or “stuck in the green” or “I was going FAST.” These refer to some of the decades-later aftereffects of their force-field work. The experiment, needless to say, was a complete success.
I attest to you that Schrödinger’s cat is real. The cat is at the same time alive as well as dead—or should I say at the same “times,” in the plural? There is the cosmos and there is the multiverse. But the multiverse is itself a refracting prism—and the key to it all is the time track. Schrödinger was right. The many-worlds interpretation of quantum mechanics and consistent histories is a wondrous and terrifying reality.
Every event in life is a branch point. Divergent outcomes—the cat is alive, the cat is dead—are equally real. They exist simultaneously as branches of the time track.
I have stood on a rooftop in the city of Pittsburgh in the minutes before the “Advent” of Megadeath. Even as I write this, demon, the b-52 stratofortresses are flying. They are always flying. That is the great and terrible mystery of DARKMANSE.
Be warned: someone will befriend you and your friends in Cumorah. DO NOT TRUST THEM. They are an agent of the Archivist. Until we meet:
See you in time,
Doctor Jessup
The following developments occurred in the aftermath of the Battle of the North Woods but before the great council in the brewery, played via e-mail from Thursday, August 2, to Sunday, August 5.
Following the battle, the four adventurers helped the people care for the gravely wounded. Ven drew on healing magic as well as more mundane means to save twenty-five lives, while Korric and Nik aided in the effort, together saving five additional people.
Korric found a three-foot quarterstaff on the body of the dead drow mage. Ven immediately detected the whiff of chaotic evil emanating from the weapon. Nik unwisely decided to loot the bodies of the dead Clockmaker and his young apprentice, Ben. She managed to dip a single claw into the pocket of the old man's vest but was immediately set upon by the stone giant, who let out an enraged howl and came charging over to her, clasped her by the throat in both fists, and hoisted her into the air. An angry mob of villagers surrounded the tiefling.
Korric attempted to diffuse the situation. “Apologies my big friend, she was wrong in her actions," he said, shouting to make his voice heard over the crowd. "After all the lives lost today, do we really want to add one more?”
Ven too urged the people to remain calm, reminding them that the tiefling was chiefly responsible for saving their lives that day. "We have pledged to fight the Synarch, and in doing so we are committed to ridding this land of the foul drow who murdered so many of your friends and family. If you harm her,” he said, pointing to Nik, “you harm yourselves.”
The cleric then strode over to the giant and Nik and cast Guidance on Nik, enhancing her charisma—and a good thing that he did, because the demon was clearly about to die.
Angered that the tiefling would desecrate the bodies of Ben and his beloved Clockmaker, the stone giant began to squeeze, fully intending to crush her neck in his massive fists. But the demon's powers of persuasion, honed during her time as an urchin in the sprawling downside-up slums of the Splinterdawn—and aided by Ven's magic—caused the giant to take pause.
"I see the grief you wear like a soaked shroud about you," the winged demon communicated to him telepathically, reaching deep into the giant's mind. "I am sorry for your loss."
Though he would have truly enjoyed nothing better than to gaze into the demon's eyes as the light in them faded and went out, he couldn't bring himself to do it.
He hurled the tiefling into the dirt and stood over her menacingly, huffing like an irate bull, his huge fists clenched, his teeth bared.
A young girl, who lost both of her parents to the drow's killing pit, came over and gently lay a hand on his arm. He looked down at her, and his eyes brimmed with tears.
"It will be okay, giant," the girl assured him.
Though irate, the mob of villagers was afraid to get any closer to the demon. Nobody wanted to be the first to have a go at her. Finally, the miller's son turned away from her in disgust, muttering something about how the dead needed tending to. The crowd reluctantly dispersed. People gave her hostile looks as they passed.
"Filthy offworlders," one old woman said under her breath.
Shunned by the townsfolk, Nik retreated to a copse of trees to inspect a mystifying object that she managed to slip from the pocket of the Clockmaker's vest right before the stone giant attacked her: it was an envelope with a single name written on the front.
It was addressed to her, Nicadeamus.
Opening it, she read the letter inside. Shaken by what she read, she returned to her three companions and said, "You all very much need to read this."
The contents of the letter were as follows:
Dear demon,
If you are reading this, then I am dead. That is to say, I have died in the branch of the time track that you now find yourself. I can assure you that I survive the drow pogrom in other tracks, yet I die in others. I wonder, which death did you witness? Did I die by fire? Did I burn for 18 days? Or was my life extinguished like an afterthought by a drow arrow?
As you approach the awful truth of Darkmanse, you may hear phrases such as “caught in the flow (or the push)” or “stuck in the green” or “I was going FAST.” These refer to some of the decades-later aftereffects of their force-field work. The experiment, needless to say, was a complete success.
I attest to you that Schrödinger’s cat is real. The cat is at the same time alive as well as dead—or should I say at the same “times,” in the plural? There is the cosmos and there is the multiverse. But the multiverse is itself a refracting prism—and the key to it all is the time track. Schrödinger was right. The many-worlds interpretation of quantum mechanics and consistent histories is a wondrous and terrifying reality.
Every event in life is a branch point. Divergent outcomes—the cat is alive, the cat is dead—are equally real. They exist simultaneously as branches of the time track.
I have stood on a rooftop in the city of Pittsburgh in the minutes before the “Advent” of Megadeath. Even as I write this, demon, the b-52 stratofortresses are flying. They are always flying. That is the great and terrible mystery of DARKMANSE.
Be warned: someone will befriend you and your friends in Cumorah. DO NOT TRUST THEM. They are an agent of the Archivist. Until we meet:
See you in time,
Doctor Jessup
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