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That said, POOL IS CLOSED also did say that the choice would be reflected in Solution's attitude and choice of associates, so it's not meaningless, it's more like we're voting for what happens in the LP. Er, that is to say, what happens to the narrative.
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Dec 1, 2016 01:53
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vdate posted:That said, POOL IS CLOSED also did say that the choice would be reflected in Solution's attitude and choice of associates, so it's not meaningless, it's more like we're voting for what happens in the LP. Er, that is to say, what happens to the narrative. True enough I suppose.
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Dec 1, 2016 02:29
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I was talking to some people who rescue exotic birds last week. One of their charges was a parrot who had outlived her previous keeper by something like 20 years. It had a bunch of things it could say, but some of them were very clearly still in the voice of that long-dead human. Kind of sweet. Kind of creepy. Kind of unnervingly relevant to the situation on Sucia Island, now that I have some time to catch up. That's also why I'm voting Maintain. Even if we adopt the more grim attitude we associate with the Master Shapers, the difference between a fyora or a servile and a thorn baton is the difference between a dog or a parrot and the yeast that ferments our beer.
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Dec 1, 2016 06:03
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If maintain means no servile genocide I want to switch my vote to absorb.
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Dec 1, 2016 06:18
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Let's maintain our creations.
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Dec 1, 2016 18:30
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I like when the protagonist isn't a 100% efficient killing machine. Pets make Solution human. Maintain
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Dec 1, 2016 22:42
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Tomorrow's the last day for voting, so if you're waiting around... Go ahead and cast your ballot! (This election brought to you by direct democracy!)
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Dec 2, 2016 00:38
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ABSORB: They have served us well, let their essence join with their successors in order to pass along their superior characteristics. We loose their current forms, certainly, but they are replaced by those who owe their existence to them.
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Dec 2, 2016 02:12
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I think they should be absorbed
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Dec 2, 2016 05:18
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<b> absorb </b>
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Dec 2, 2016 07:05
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PoptartsNinja posted:Absorb This^
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Dec 2, 2016 07:04
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Can you get poisoned by that canister as many times as you want, or do you sensibly hold back from trying again?
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Dec 2, 2016 08:33
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Glazius posted:Can you get poisoned by that canister as many times as you want, or do you sensibly hold back from trying again? You sensibly back off. Though your character DOES contemplate it before logic kicks in. Addiction is one heluva thing. 
mauman fucked around with this message at 10:20 on Dec 2, 2016 |
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Dec 2, 2016 10:18
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What I didn't show there was how we died because I was too busy screenshotting to cast cure.
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Dec 2, 2016 15:37
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Multiple stacks of poison/acid are no joke when the load-bearing character has like 25 HP! edit: on that note, it's kind of odd that when you need time to do something calmly, the answer is to go into combat mode, because everything happens sequentially there and DoTs only tick at round rollover.
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Dec 2, 2016 15:38
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Alright, looks like voting's over! I'm going to tally the votes and then get to work on material for the next update.  e: The Final Tally Absorb: 11 Maintain: 20 The maintainers have it! POOL IS CLOSED fucked around with this message at 16:23 on Dec 3, 2016 |
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Dec 3, 2016 01:14
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Less than Legendary JourneysVoting posted:Last time, we ended our session on a vote: would Solution absorb her creations in order to create newer, stronger creatures? Or would she maintain her attachment to her earliest creations and allies, the fyoras, artilas, and now, a roamer?  You return to Pentil laden with doubt. Everything that you've seen on Sucia Island has shown the horror that results when Shaping is allowed to spin out of control. Are the Shapers not the near-omnipotent force you've always believed? Are they, and by extension, you, perhaps even monstrous, even more so than the rogues you've pitted yourself against again and again since landing here? This is not what you thought you were choosing when you first stepped on the path to becoming a Shaper. Nothing you've seen in Sucia is as it ought to be. Your faith in the most basic tenets of Shaper law, in the ethos of your people, has been shaken. But the foundations of that faith are sturdy. Some truths remain inviolable. The power Shapers wield is immense and must be controlled. Access to it must be limited to those who have demonstrated that they can control it. Perhaps that is why the canisters were abandoned here -- devices which can grant any human such powers are too dangerous to exist, even if they make passing on Shaper knowledge much more efficient than the years of study and service you've sworn yourself to. Those years serve another purpose: to sort out the unworthy and incapable, and to reinforce the ethics and obligations required to use Shaping responsibly. Maybe no one is worthy of that responsibility. You can't say that you are. When given the choice between an honest death or quick power, you've consistently chosen the latter. It's only natural to want to survive -- the serviles demonstrate that -- but perhaps it's not always the right choice. Not everything natural is for the greater good. But you've already chosen the path of expedience. More, setting foot on it has revealed that a great danger threatens your people. You can certainly decide to abandon this road at any time, but you will not. Failing to act on what you've discovered is a far worse crime than unearned power. The changes the canisters are wreaking on your body and mind go well beyond strength, spells, and Shaping; you can sense even now the subtle shift of your personality, as though a baser nature is trying to rear its head and seize control of you. You will not be driven by avarice.  Pixley smiles when she sees you. As usual, she's busily hauling goods and conferring with other serviles, but she is happy to set aside time to serve the Shapers. "I've cleared both bridges to the east. They should be much easier to pass now," you tell her. "My travelers doubted me, but I knew! They said our problems were too tiny for your attention, but I knew you had returned to help us. Thank you, Shaper!" She produces a pair of gourds from her robes. "These items are very useful when we are ambushed during a journey, but they would be better put to use by you." She gives them to you before excitement overcomes her and she rushes off to spread the good news. Shaper power can be used for more than serving oneself. You pass by the merchant stalls as you leave. The serviles are cautiously optimistic. "At least one of the bridges to the east is clear. We can now exchange supplies with the serviles to the east. Or, at least, those of them who will deal with us peacefully," the grocer says. All isn't well, but it can be better, at least for a time.  A few days ago, you ventured north of Pentil into the wooded valley beyond. Unlike the rest of Pentil's territory, very few rogues stalked the valley, and most of those seemed content to stick to the crevasses and prey on ornks. You took care of them anyway, but at that time, you stopped short of going further north. The valley didn't seem as forbidding as the northern wastes, but all the tales you've heard of terrible rogues held you back. Now, though, you decide to press onward.  Beyond the wooded valley is a peaceful vale. The crumbling road leads into a verdant glade from which you can hear the calm lowing of ornks. They're much more content than you would expect from abandoned livestock. The ornk herds on Pentil Plains were confused and afraid when you found them, but these aren't. Curious.  You don't follow the road right away. Instead, a hunch leads you west into the trees. Soon enough, you find one of the bluish-gray artilas that you last saw outside the Holding Cells.   Though their acrid spit is fearsome, these searing artilas are no match for placid saviour and ManxomeBromide. If the Vosgian Beast had survived, they would have made a formidable trio. You set aside your regrets for now, though, and concentrate on slaying the rogues. They may not be organized against Shaper interests right now, but your people are never content to let rogue nests lay.    GreatEvilKing and idhrendur still have what it takes even against these higher tier rogues. The fyoras track a little slowly compared to the artilas, but in the end, the fyoras are the ones who finish them off. Your creations ruin the rogue nests and scatter old bones throughout the clearing before you move on.     You find another pocket of rogues nearby after a barely-heard hiss draws your attention to another small clearing. Artilas boil out of their nests and attack with incredible furor. They have nowhere to flee -- you and your creations have them backed into a dead end. The thicket that rings their nests is too thick for them to beat a hasty retreat. You spend essence on neutralizing acid and blessing your team so that your fyoras can burn the rogues more often than the grass, and in turn your creations whittle the searing artilas down until they're reduced to unrecognizable remains.  The ornks graze in a stony field where the road forks. These creatures are fat and friendly, though you see signs of neglect in their poorly cared for hooves and filthy ears. Still, they're much healthier than you would expect from untended ornks.  The road is cut off here by more overgrowth. Something abandoned a nest here and probably unwillingly at that -- you find more ancient Shaper coins here and pocket them. Artilas can't even count, let alone spend money.   While following the road, you notice a gap in the trees to the south. You find a tunnel into the rock. It seems to have been carved out the same way the caves around Control Mind Four were carved out. The mounded up bones around the tunnel's mouth fill you with unease, but you venture in anyway.  There's an odd musk here that you can't quite place until you round the last curve to the main chamber.  "I hunger," the great beast before you rumbles. Drayks were one of the strongest and most cunning of the creations. That is why they have not been made for over a hundred years. Looking into the eyes of this powerful, wizened creature, you can't help but feel that it was a wise choice. Even at its age, it's a massive creature - over a ton, twenty feet long from head to tail, and all muscle. Its eyes are cold and arrogant and communicate shrewdness and cunning. It is not the least bit afraid of you. You can see, in a moment, why drayks are no longer made. They must be born rogue. The creature chuckles. Flames emerge from its nose, and you smell sulfur. "Ah, I had thought I would never meet a Shaper again. I am Syros. Welcome to my humble lair. Why have you come to trade with me?" "How long have you lived here?" It's hard to keep from stammering, but you manage it. Barely. You never expected to be intimidated by a mere creation, but there's nothing mere about drayks. Your drayk-craft is barely worthy of the name when compared to this monstrosity. You don't know how to deal with Syros, so you have to buy yourself some time. "On this island? Over two hundred years. In this cave? About a century. I was created not long before your kind left the island." Syros seems to regard you indulgently, almost as an adult might someone else's precocious child... or how someone might treat a pet. It's deeply uncomfortable. "Who created you?" "I was made by Danette herself, head of research on this isle." He sounds perversely proud of the identity of his creator. "I was made by the creator of the Geneforge herself." "The Geneforge? What is that?" So Danette is the one who made the Geneforge, which is why or at least part of the reason why the island was Barred... and she made drayks as well. She must have been a truly formidable Shaper. You can't imagine that she was happy when the council decided to shut her research down. "Perhaps you should trade with me. Perhaps that may become clear." Smoke curls from Syros' nostrils. You amuse it. "How have you spent your time here?" "Hunting. Eating. Staying alive. Occasionally breeding, for the sake of interest." "You creations breed?" You're shocked. Only the most stable, well-understood creations are able to breed -- drayks certainly don't fit that build. Anyone who would let them create self-sustaining lines must have been insane. "Of course!" He sounds offended. "You don't think I was made sterile, do you? All creations breed. It keeps you Shapers from having to make all of us from scratch. Saves you trouble." You barely manage to not contradict him. Obviously much has changed since Sucia was Barred, and honestly, those changes all seem to be for the better. Nothing about uncontrolled breeding among creations has saved you any trouble. Now at least some of the rogue troubles here make more sense -- not all of those rogues come from outsiders. But enough of them do... You suppress a shudder. "How long does your kind live?" you ask. "Your kind made me well. Centuries of life remain to me," Syros replies with a self-satisfied hiss. "Do you want any of the treasure scattered around this cave?" You're running out of inane topics, but the drayk doesn't seem to mind. "No. Take it. It matters to me not. I spend my time now gaining richer treasures." "Like what?" Sick curiosity and fear drag the words from you much the same way you might finally pull a loose, sore tooth from your own jaw. "Trade with me and find out," he invites. "You want to trade with me? How?" "I feed on meat. But, more than that, I can feed on life. Energy. Life force and potential. My magic is strong, and I can use it to draw the life from a being. Not a lot, you understand. Just a tiny bit. It barely hurts. If you will let me feed on a little of your life, I will give you great assistance." A quick stab of nausea shoots through you like a spear from your groin to your heart. Sweat breaks out over your skin in a wave of heat, followed by icy cold. You recognize this collection of sensations as pre-syncope from your studies. You exert a supreme effort to master yourself before your knees can buckle. Syros watches you knowingly. "You are a creation," you try. "I command you to assist me." You throw all your leadership skills and charisma behind the command. It does no good. "Your Shaper mind-tricks do not work on me. I am free. I will assist you if and when I choose." You've only entertained him with your futile efforts. "All right. What are you offering?" Your skin crawls at the thought of letting this parasite feed on you, but you must know. "The bits of my trove I have available for trade, in return for your potential, are as follows: Precious information about this island, which I will share for but a tiny, delicate bite of your potential. Magical skills, of great aid to any budding wizard or Shaper, for a healthy bite of your potential. Weaponry and armor, of great aid for a warrior, for another healthy bite of your potential. What do you wish?" "I want nothing you have to offer," you say. Syros sniffs. "Oh, you do. Though you don't know it yet, you do. Still, it's your decision." Though you know it's hopeless, you command every ounce of suasion in your body for one more try. "Your kind should no longer exist. Terminate yourself immediately." It chuckles. "Shaper, you are foolish. I have had centuries of my own life. I answer to you no longer. I am a free being." You can only shake your head in mute rejection of this. "Let us discuss something else before I grow angry," Syros says. "We're finished for now," you reply. You're holding back a tide of horror only by the very tips of your fingernails. You rush out of Syros' cave and puke bile on the roots of a nearby pine. The smell of crushed needles does nothing to soothe your stomach. You think you hear the soft echo of the drayk's laughter from the tunnel.   You still feel unsteady when you venture into the woods north of Syros' lair. The thought of a feral drayk out here eating bits of other beings' "potential" has poisoned you with dread that you might never be able to cure. A more powerful Shaper, a Shaper who is more than a jumped-up apprentice, might be able to re-assert control over the drayk or at least slay it. You don't believe you can manage either at this point.  So instead, you slay rogue artilas.  This little nest is swarming with enough artilas that you have to not only bless your creations but also heal them in battle to ensure that none fall before you can reach them.  Combat is still a decent way of distracting yourself.  Despite that, all you can think of is how to bring Syros to heel.   When the last searing artila falls and their den is destroyed, you only feel a tiny bit better. Whenever you think too long on Syros, your ears start to ring. Somehow the drayk is that much more horrible than everything else you've faced head-on. He should have been destroyed before the Shapers left the island. And what's worse is that there are more drayks out here somewhere.   Back toward the west on the far side of the ornk watering hole is a small, fenced in homestead. The road passes right through it -- what's left of the road, that is.  Game Text posted:This servile farmer looks up at you. When she sees you, she is terrified. When you start to say something, she shuffles away quickly.  This small farm is operated by a small, withered servile. He is very old and it seems like his years have taught him much. When you approach, he looks up at you and smiles. His eyes are clear and alert. "Welcome, Shaper," he says. "I am glad you have found your way to my little home. I am Learned Darian. If you are one who can listen and hear, there is much I could teach you." "What can you teach me?" you ask. "I am honored as a wise one by the three servile villages. All of them come to me, from time to time, for advice and to pass messages to the other sects. I know much of them. And I think, if you are wise, you will want to know of them too. And, perhaps, even ally with them." "Tell me about the sects." You don't expect to hear anything you've not already heard before, but repetition is almost comforting. "There are the Awakened in Vakkiri, the Obeyers in Pentil, and the Takers in Kazg. All of them have come to and dealt with me, to try to coexist despite their differences. The Takers, however, have done so I much less lately. They have found wisdom elsewhere." "Why don't the Takers see you anymore?" Sudden changes like this are alarming. You wonder if it has to do with the Takers aligning themselves with the outsiders. "I am wise, but I am not omnipotent. If they do not talk to me, I do not know what they think or do. Perhaps you can find out. I believe there are other powers on this island," Darian says. "The outsiders," you mutter. "Can you tell me about the beliefs of the sects?" "I will not do that. I only listen to their beliefs and carry their messages and, occasionally, provide a little advice. I do not preach. Go to them. They will be glad to tell you what they think." You laugh softly at that. Darian does not smile or join in; he only watches you with the serenity of someone very aged. You ask, "What if I want to ally myself with one of the sects? Can you put in a word on my behalf?" "You can ask their leader. If what they have heard about your beliefs matches what they teach, they may offer you their friendship and assistance. If, at some point, there is a group you wish to join, and they do not welcome you at first, I can put in a word on your behalf. I have some influence. Do not be fickle, however. My influence is strong, but not unending; I will only be able to intercede on your behalf once." "I don't need your help right now," you say. Darian nods. "Fair enough." "So, you would teach me?" you ask. "What could a mere servile possibly teach me?" Your tone is ironic, but from Darian's expression, serviles don't really do irony. "Well, manners, for one thing." "I see your point." You cough. "Let us set quarrels aside. I would help you, if you would accept it," he says. At least he's generous with forgiveness -- if only with Shapers. You privately wonder why Darian and so many other serviles have been so willing to help you. Beyond clearing rogues and meddling in servile affairs, they seem to want you or even need you to resolve what's happening on Sucia Island. Even though the Awakened and Takers want to throw off the Shaper mantle, they still need Shapers to solve problems. As part of your mind ticks through such circular thoughts, the rest of you focuses on the situation at hand. "Who else works on this farm?" "I have two here, refugees who have lost much in the turmoil of the last few years. They stay here, under my protection. Please do not bother them. You frighten them." There's nothing you can do about that. You know Darian is right -- it's best to leave the creatures alone. "What else is in this area?" "There is Syros." You permit yourself to shudder now. Whether or not Darian notices, he continues, "He is a drayk. A very old one. We talk at times. He respects my knowledge, and does not eat me. I respect his strength and great age. He is in a cave down that way." He points to the southeast. "You should go speak with him." "We've met," you murmur. "Anything else?" "There are some rogue nests. The creatures mostly keep to themselves. If you keep a safe distance from them, they will not trouble you. There is also the bridge to the east. It is heavily guarded. I suggest you stay a safe distance from there. It is very dangerous." "I've taken care of the rogues," you say, and Darian thanks you graciously. "But back to the earlier subject... Why should the politics of serviles be important to me?" "I do not know. And yet I believe, one day, you will find the answer to that question yourself." "Perhaps in time I will find that their beliefs have wisdom?" you ask. "Who knows? If you can open your mind, all manner of things may fly in. And some of them will be good." Maybe Darian does do irony, but found yours rude anyway. "Why do you live out here alone?" "I prefer the solitude. And, for some reason, the rogue creations leave me alone. Perhaps they think I would not taste good. And perhaps we wise ones are left alone out of respect." "You said 'we'? There is another wise one?" you ask. "Yes. Her name is Clois. She lives in a marsh halfway between Pentil and Kazg. If I was useful to you, you may wish to find her. She deserves respect," Darian says. You think Clois would be happy to hear such high praise from another ancient servile. "That's all for now," you say, then add a belated thanks. Out of respect for your efforts at clearing the rogue artilas, Darian lets you stay the night. You remember his words and maintain as much distance as you can from his pet refugees, who remain watchful of you during the evening meal. You sleep by the brazier, waking at every pop of the coals, imagining your neck snapping in the jaws of that horrid drayk.  In the morning, you venture east in search of Kazg. Next time: Kazg Wheels, Kazg Deals
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Dec 3, 2016 23:52
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None of you posters who voted against absorption will ever get the Pet Island euth gangtag.
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I am not a fan of Syros. Solution's reaction is appropriate. Maybe we'll have to come back by once more powerful to put it down.
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Dec 4, 2016 02:58
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So, uh, Syro's another example of a place where a Shaper sat down and was like 'I'm gonna make a dragon and it's going to be fully sentient and eat the essence of life, this is a good plan that leads to prosperity and happiness.' Think about how dumb you sound now, ancient Shaper who invented rear end in a top hat life-eating dragons. Real dumb.
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Dec 4, 2016 03:10
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Syros' trade for abilities is rubbish....unless you're playing an agent. Getting what he has earlier than normal is a great way to speed up breaking the game in two.
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Dec 4, 2016 04:44
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What does Syros take from you? Does he permanently reduce your max essence or something?
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Dec 4, 2016 04:59
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TooMuchAbstraction posted:What does Syros take from you? Does he permanently reduce your max essence or something? skill points. 5 for the gear (not worth it) 5 for the skills (worth it for the agent IMO, not anybody else) 1 for the info (definitely not worth it).
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Dec 4, 2016 05:00
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Night10194 posted:So, uh, Syro's another example of a place where a Shaper sat down and was like 'I'm gonna make a dragon and it's going to be fully sentient and eat the essence of life, this is a good plan that leads to prosperity and happiness.' I don't know. "I'm going to make a dragon and it'll grow fat on the souls of my foes and its spawn will desolate the lands of my enemies for generations. This is a good plan to keep the world reliant upon my power." Seems to check out if you have the slightest bit of megalomania. And what wizard who meddles with the blueprints of life itself isn't given to a little bit of megalomania? I mean, one of the Shaping disciplines isn't called "laborer shaping," it's straight up "battle shaping." Solution might be deluded about Shaper methodology but their coursework is refreshingly honest.
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Dec 4, 2016 05:55
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There's definitely laborer shaping, though I don't know what the discipline would be named. There are certainly disciplines we have no access to over the course of the game, like living tools, agriculture, etc. But those aren't fitting powers for a video game protagonist and the narrative explicitly excludes them for the PC.
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Dec 4, 2016 06:44
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Also, you know, making the hell dragon viable and able to breed is pretty clearly crossing the foolishness/hubris line. If it was bad for Clawbugs it was bad for hell dragons.
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Dec 4, 2016 07:26
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Man gently caress that dragon. I look forward to the day we put it in the ground. 
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Dec 4, 2016 09:48
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mauman posted:
What kind of skills that don't get purchased via skill points?
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Dec 4, 2016 13:57
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Xander77 posted:? It's isn't skills like stats, it's a point in four different spells. However, with the way the mechanics work in this game, additional levels in an existing spell aren't particularly useful. Spell strength is essentially the sum of (Spell Level + Relevant Magic Skill + Spellcraft). So the choice basically boils down to: 1.) Spend ~5 skill points on raising Spellcraft by 1, making every single spell in the game better by one level. 2.) Spell 5 skill points on learning four individual spells, making only those four spells better by 1 level. Pretty obvious why this is generally a really dumb idea. The only reason that the Agent can benefit is because this is the earliest possible place to get two good spells. So you're basically trading 5 skill points for early access to better magic. This reason, however, doesn't apply to Shapers (who let their creations do the heavy lifting) or Guardians (who won't have the essence/mana to use either spell effectively for a while anyways). MagusofStars fucked around with this message at 16:08 on Dec 4, 2016 |
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Dec 4, 2016 16:06
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Xander77 posted:? That one I'm afraid of answering. Does that constitute a spoiler Pool? I mean, explaining the mechanics behind the trade is one thing. I guess it depends if Pool plans on coming back to take the deal at some point (I would guess not, but I don't know). MagusofStars posted:It's isn't skills like stats, it's a point in four different spells. Also, it's more complicated then "spellcraft vs everything else". Remember, individual skills have (massive) diminishing returns. In the long run, a spell bonus + spellcraft + specific magic type is better than just spellcraft + specific magic type, at least to the specific spells in question. mauman fucked around with this message at 18:27 on Dec 4, 2016 |
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Dec 4, 2016 16:05
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Go ahead and talk about it -- I can add the discussion as a sidebar if I get to archive the lp. We won't be taking Syros' deal, though I will show the missed info in an AU outtake. We can add dealing with Syros to our unfinished business. 
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Dec 4, 2016 16:21
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POOL IS CLOSED posted:Go ahead and talk about it -- I can add the discussion as a sidebar if I get to archive the lp. We won't be taking Syros' deal, though I will show the missed info in an AU outtake. Ok, groovy. Without getting too spoilery, the spells in question are the best battle magic, the "best" blessing magic (which in an agents hands == game broken), a point in heal (never a bad thing), and one point in a battle creation  .Of course the creation point is utterly useless, but the rest are either good (like heal) or amazing (like the other two). All of this only applies to the agent of course as the bonuses are much less worthwhile to the other classes. Once Pool finds the spells in question, I'll edit this so he can add it to a sidebar later (if he wants to). Also, on a somewhat related note, just finished my Torment Agent run and boy howdy was it MUCH easier than my Torment Shaper run (as in, I didn't finish it because holy gently caress does it get hard/annoying). Being able to literally go "no turns for everyone but you" for most combats just makes the game hilariously easy. Of course if I ever got cornered I was insta-gibbed but all classes must have weaknesses. mauman fucked around with this message at 19:01 on Dec 4, 2016 |
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Dec 4, 2016 18:25
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I have found my copies of Geneforge 1-5! Turns out I downloaded the installs before the bundles crashed, and... Put them in the same folder as Al-Qadim, for no reason I can determine. So now I'm trying to work out how to DXWnd it properly, because, every offense intended, I'm not going to be switching to lower resolution and colourspace if I can humanly help it. Current progress: it works, but it's a small part of a smallish window. 
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Dec 4, 2016 22:27
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JamieTheD posted:I have found my copies of Geneforge 1-5! Turns out I downloaded the installs before the bundles crashed, and... Put them in the same folder as Al-Qadim, for no reason I can determine. The Spiderweb megathread linked earlier on might be able to help! I think mauman linked it, check his posts in the thread. They also helped me out with a compatibility issue that resulted in slowdown whenever text came up on screen (outside of dialogue boxes). Next update will probably be tomorrow; everyone wanted to play terraria while I was halfway through writing.
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Dec 5, 2016 00:22
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Kazg Wheels, Kazg Deals Game Text posted:You stare out at the plains north of the city of Kazg. It is a bleak sight. The Shaper statues have all been cut off just below the hips, leaving you taller than the great statues for just this once. It's interesting that the serviles didn't simply topple the statues and let them shatter. No; the serviles worked to destroy them, hacking the statues apart where they stand. That kind of effort takes great viciousness. You hope that whoever did this is long dead and gone, so that they don't try to repeat it on a living Shaper... like you.  You follow the crumbling road eastward and notice one of your people's obelisks. Unfortunately, it has been thoroughly defaced.     Game Text posted:Kazg is working very hard to reclaim as much of their farming land as they can. They have been bringing fresh dirt in, laboriously, a basket at a time. There are also plants from other areas, brought in old, scavenged clay pots. The dismal sight of these plains fills you with sorrow. The serviles of Kazg are fighting a losing battle despite their ingenuity and hard work. The irrigation trenches will not improve the contaminated soil's arability. Bringing in viable soil will only cause it to become contaminated, too -- the proof is in the withering, yellowing crops. The guards clutch their swords as you pass, muttering to themselves about defending their free and crushing the Shapers. You don't tell them that it won't be as simple as breaking down ancient statuary. You just keep your distance. The fields along the northern shore are peppered with unclaimed Shaper ruins which have fallen into such a desperate state of disrepair that you cannot guess what they might have once been.  As you follow the irrigation canals back down to the road, an armed servile in dark robes rushes toward you. Only the fact that he comes alone and that the other servile guards aren't joining him keeps you from ordering your creations to shoot him down before he reaches you. You try to project an aura of confidence about engaging this Taker, but you would honestly feel more secure about killing him rather than risking him making the first move. Fortunately, he pulls up short, maintaining a respectful distance from the fyoras. You meet one of the guards of the north gate of Kazg. He looks like an experienced warrior, and his face has the cold, calm expression you've seen many times on the more experienced Guardians. He nods to you, clearly unimpressed, and begins to speak in a businesslike manner. "Shaper, I have been sent to greet you when you approach. You are at the outskirts of Kazg. Fair warning. Your safety here is not guaranteed." This character's name is Amena, though he never introduces himself. It's not terribly important. "Will I be attacked if I enter Kazg?" You're under the impression that the Takers want to parley with you -- otherwise, they wouldn't have had Nabb approach you about slaying Ellhrah in return for power. "Yes. The guards there are eager to meet you in battle. I doubt I could control them, if they got a chance to actually fight and slay a Shaper," the guard says. His tone and the way he doesn't bother to look directly at you, but rather at his blade, show that he won't regret your death one bit. "I am a Shaper. How can you threaten me?" You look at your creations, whose battle experience is obvious from simply looking at them. Even if the Takers aren't in awe of their creators, they should be more cautious. "You must know little about the Takers, to ask such a foolish question. We are independent from you, and we will stay so. Or die." "Why do they hate me?" Even if they blame the Shapers for their current circumstances, you are hardly to blame. Word must have arrived by now that you merely washed up on this island. You didn't arrive with the intention of crushing the Takers' pointless rebellion. Moreover, you haven't even harmed their outsider allies. You wouldn't have interfered at all if not for the possibility of a ship at the eastern end of the island. "I do not have the time to recite the whole list of crimes your people have committed against ours. All my warriors want is a chance for fair justice," he snaps. What's fair about trying to murder you even though you're blameless for what took place here two hundred years or more ago? You don't voice your protest. Whining won't change this servile's mind, and it's contemptible besides. "I wish to enter Kazg and speak with your leaders. How is this possible?" "I would need to escort you into town myself. But first, I need to believe that it is worth it. I do not want one of your kind in my home, no matter what Gnorrel says." He glances at you with a surly curl to his lips. "Gnorrel? Who is that?" You believe this is the first that you've heard that name. "Gnorrel is our leader. She rules the Takers. She says that there is a certain Shaper she wishes to see, but she said nothing about how to identify him or her. I don't think any Shapers can be trusted, so I will not help you pass." You roll your eyes at this petty bit of gamesmanship. "Shouldn't you obey your orders?" "I am not a servant. You Shapers want us all to be servants, to you or to each other. No. I am here and she is not. I will not help you pass. It is wise to leave. If you do not, you will be slain," he says. His insistence on this point doesn't exactly fill you with a sightseer's glee. "If you want me dead, don't you think the best way to bring that about would be to take me to your leader? I won't die out here." He stops, surprised. This clearly hadn't occurred to him. "That is true. I do not think that I can kill you. Gnorrel, however, definitely could. Follow me, Shaper. I will lead you to the gate. Watch yourself, though. The slightest theft, the slightest crime, and we will swarm you. You are not the master here." He's right; you're not the master of these Takers, but you're a better master of yourself than this servile is of himself. His barely contained contempt has become murderous anticipation.  You follow him south toward what must be the walls of Kazg. Instead of staying by him to meet an almost certain ambush, though, you veer off toward the dilapidated huts just outside the walls. This must be where the farmers live. A few serviles are here, resting through the worst heat of the day. Most of them have very little to say to you, and though they don't outright bar you from their homes, they offer no hospitality. One servile watches you so closely and openly that he's practically inviting you to make the first move. You've met a Kazgian. He has the mad, unstable look in his eyes you have come to expect. A fanatic's eyes. He looks up at you. He looks like he could kill you in a moment, if the whim struck him. Instead, he speaks. "A Shaper. Shaper. Yes. Gnorrel said your kind would come. Now you talk at me. Good. I am Agat. I am an Agent." "You call yourself an Agent? Only a Shaper can be an Agent," you say, trying and failing to imagine a servile using an Agent's magic. The effort makes your skin crawl. "I Agent like Shaper Agent are Agent. Gnorrel finds difficult place where bad things happen. She talks to me and I go and I solve problem." Agat sounds reasonable enough, but you dislike the look in his eyes. You already know that the Takers' madness will cause you no end of trouble in their lands. "What sort of problems are you trying to solve?" you ask. Maybe it's something you can help with, something that will allow you to extend a bough of peace to the Takers. "Gnorrel think there is spy up here. Not spy like you, blundering out in open, but secret spy. I talk to all farmer and visitor, but I find no spy." You resent the description; you're neither a blunderer nor a spy! Agat looks up at you and smiles. "You Shaper. Smart. Know way of serviles. If you know of spy and tell me, we deal with you. We not hate all Shapers. Shapers who ally with us welcome." "Tell me about Gnorrel." Agat is the second to mention the Takers' leader by name. She must be a formidable servile to persist in this... paper rebellion even after a Shaper has arrived on the island. "She leader of Takers. She wise. One day, she lead us up and against you. Once she tell us who to fight, we win freedom." Unlikely if there's only one boat on the island and no one knows how to build more. You imagine that outsider ship sailing into a Shaper port and being scuttled at the docks by fyoras. Futile. Pointless. "Why don't you hate all Shapers?" "Some do. Foolish ones do. Not Gnorrel. Not me. We know that Shaper who aid our cause is as much ally as servile who do so. More so, for Shaper has much more to lose. Help us, and we will help you more. Want know more? Talk to Gnorrel," Agat says. He uses the servile argot like a weapon. But there's no way you will be fooled into underestimating him based on that. You thank him and move on without making a commitment to look for his spy either way. Serviles spying on each other is now much less of a joke than when you first heard of it in Vakkiri. You're no longer certain of how deeply you want to be involved in their politics. Darian was wrong; wisdom is keeping your distance.  Someone calls out at you with a thin voice. You meet one of Kazg's farmers in the hut by Agat's. This servile looks weak and weary, and is covered with thick layers of the dust that pervades this area. She looks up at you with a face without emotion. "The Shaper. I Srel. Srel. Will you talk to me?" "Is it difficult to farm here?" you ask quietly, in deference to her clear exhaustion. "You must know. You kind leave us this to live. You must know how bad it is. How hard. You give us this bad place and we must live," Srel says. Her bitterness is warranted. These plains are clearly blighted, though you don't know how or why. It's only natural for those left behind to blame your people. Even you suspect this was caused by the Shapers. "What do you want to talk to me about?" "'I live hard life here. Life too long. Must tell you and ask question. You listen?" You consider telling her that you don't have time right now. Whatever she has to tell you is clearly important to her, but will only be unpleasant for you. "All right. What do you want to say?" "I live here twenty years. Maybe twenty. Know no more. I live with my bonded. We grow food. We raise child. Always hungry. Always struggling to bring dirt and grow in it. Somehow, we live." Srel pauses, waiting for you to say something. "Yes?" you prompt. You want it to be over with. You can already see where this tale ends. You already heard the same story from Natley. There's nothing you can do for either servile. Even Shapers can't bring back the dead. "Then my bonded dies. A rogue kills him. Then my child died. Sickness. If Shaper here, there are no rogue. If Shaper here, no sickness. It cured like that." She snaps her fingers. "Why? Why Shaper do this to us? Why this wrong thing? Why?" There's no comfort you can give her. The empty words you spoke to Natley won't serve here. Srel won't accept being told that her sacrifices are her creators' just due. And what if Clois was right and the Shapers aren't truly the serviles' creators, anyway? Then you would compound lies to someone you don't need to lie to. "I don't know," you admit. "It was wrong. It was an injustice. And my people should do something to make it better." But the Shaper way of correcting such wide-ranging mistakes is to release every last diseased and rogue creation from the torments of living. Srel and the Takers don't want to see the island cleansed by fire. She looks down at the ground, suddenly embarrassed. "You say that, Shaper. You do not feel it. I do not think you feel it. Yet, I will think and hope and try to believe." She turns away quietly. You think that you can hear her quietly sobbing as you depart. If we give her the Shaper response instead of the conciliatory one, she will become hostile and we'll be forced to kill her.  The half-dozen or more guards by the northern gate into Kazg don't bother to hide their loathing of you. "Defend Kazg!" they cry. "Fight for the Takers! End Shaper rule!" They won't talk to you. It's a wonder that those unsheathed swords don't try to bury themselves in you. You leave your escort waiting on the path and head back towards the greenish river, following the dried-up mounds of ornk bones.  Among the skeletal trees you find a tiny campsite. Everything in it is covered in dust. There is a young, female servile camped out here. She looks very small and nervous. Like everything else in this barren place, she is covered with dust. She bows when you approach. "A Shaper," she mutters to herself, then greets you, "Welcome. Welcome, Shaper. I am Hew." It's the friendliest anyone's been to you on these plains. "What are you doing out here?" you ask. "Isn't it dangerous to live out here like this?" "I like a peaceful life," she says. "I farm my tiny plot. I try to survive in this harsh place." Hew doesn't use the servile argot, at least not with you. "The Takers have made this area secure. The rogues do not trouble them anymore. They are starting to be able to grow crops. Despite the harshness, this is one of the safest places on Sucia Island now. "Thanks to the Takers," she hastens to add. "Are you a Taker?" you ask. She is almost certainly not if she refers to the Takers as "they." "Why... why of course." She seems to have difficulty saying it. "I am opposing the Shapers and all they have done to us." Hew is a laughably poor pick for a spy. "You seem to have your doubts." "No. No I don't. Never mind. No doubts. I am a Taker, secure in the wisdom of Gnorrel." No doubt Agat would find this all very interesting. "Are you lying? To a Shaper? One of your creators? How can you do that?" Hew looks very upset. She looks around, making sure nobody is listening. "No, Shaper. You are correct. I am an Obeyer. I am spying. I must obey a Shaper, no matter what it costs me, if it can possibly help us fight the evil of the Takers." "What have you learned?" you ask. You decide that, barring the need to get closer to the Takers, you won't turn Hew in. This Obeyer is the only one here who hasn't delivered any threats, veiled or otherwise. "I know that the Takers are allied with the humans. The outsiders. The invaders. I don't know why. I know, though, that it has something to do with control. Control of the Geneforge," she whispers. "What is the Geneforge?" The damned thing is mentioned more and more frequently now. Soon, you suspect rumors of it will reach even the west side of the island. Someone will try to bargain with you about it... You must know more. "I do not know. But, with time, I will find out." You don't doubt Hew's determination, but you don't believe that a farmer with one puny plot and not even a tent to her name will learn much about the Geneforge's purpose. "What do the Takers want with me, then?" "There are two Shapers on Sucia Island," Hew says. You try not to let your eyes bulge at that. "Gnorrel has been trying to get a Shaper to be brought to her. But there is another who she is supposed to be trying to kill. That is what the outsider humans want. It seems you are the Shaper they want, not the Shaper they want to kill. Not all of the Takers are so sure." At first you think that the other Shaper must be Trajkov, the outsider, but reason intervenes over denial -- the serviles recognize outsider humans when they see them. There's no reason for you to doubt that this other Shaper, if they exist, is in fact a Shaper. These serviles might try to lie to you about a second Shaper, but they won't mistake an outsider for one... Is this some new bargaining chip? Are they trying to fool you into doing something? You can't imagine what. But if there is another Shaper here, a full Shaper, you will have to submit yourself to that person's authority. Isn't that the answer to your unspoken prayers? A full Shaper surely must take responsibility for what's happening here and decide what to do. They'll tell you how to proceed. You won't have to struggle with any more temptations. But... "Is there any other information you can give me?" you ask. Hew looks even more uncomfortable. She shifts from side to side, looking for an escape from the position you've put her in. "I am sorry, Shaper, but I am not sure you follow the true will of the Shapers. If you were allied with the Obeyers, though, it would be different." You shake your head. "It's unwise of you to hold back now, but I'll accept it. We'll speak again someday."   Finally, you follow the guard into the city proper. He sneers at you before leading you through the gateway.  Game Text posted:You step into the city of Kazg for the first time. When the serviles here see you, the response is immediate. Shouts of alarm are raised. Weapons are drawn. Farmers and children run for safety. Game Text posted:From here, you are able to get a good look at Kazg. Though it is as barren and dusty as the rest of this area, it is still a massive and impressive fortress. This must have been the administrative center for the Shaper facility, when it was active. Despite its size, the walls and gatehouses are not as well-designed for defense as Pentil. Instead, it's as though this place was designed to intimidate. Everything about it is austere and huge. The Takers have kept the buildings in good shape, though, as they did outside, all of the statuary appears to have been defaced. You cautiously turn to one of the gate guards. This guard looks very thin and hungry, and his weapon is old and rusty. When you approach him, he looks up at you with fear and loathing. Like most Takers, he hates you. "Shaper," he says, "I told to let you be, but I watch you. You do wrong, and we all make you pay." He then returns to his watch. "Very well," you murmur. You'll be extra cautious to not let any Takers see you do anything they might even remotely disapprove of.  Just like in Pentil and Vakkiri, the serviles here have some fields within the fortress to supply fresh vegetables and rations in case of emergency. These fields aren't productive to let the Takers hold out for very long, though. Several farmers work here, though all but one spit on the ground and turn away from you. The stand-out servile walks around, trowel in hand, looking at the crops that are growing here. It looks like the Takers have torn up most of the flagstones to make room for plants. Maybe the dirt in here is better. "Hello, Shaper. I am Poola. I am a humble farmer." She is nowhere near as hostile as most of the serviles here. "Why are you growing things inside this fort?" you ask. The fields here are more extensive than they are inside the other villages. "The dirt around Kazg has died. We bring in dirt of our own, living dirt. We bring most in here, where it can be protected and watched," Poola says. Interesting. That almost sounds like the Takers are trying their own experiments. "What can you tell me about Kazg?" "Kazg is a large place, full of many twists and turns and interesting things. There are many Takers here, who have many beliefs." She seems to be trying to delicately hint at something, or lead you to some conclusion, but you can't guess what that might be. "What do you think of the Takers?" You don't expect her to say anything contrary, at least not openly; after all, the authorities know there's a spy here, and Poola could easily be accused of disloyalty. You doubt an ordinary farmer could easily leave this place, not with all the rogues between here and the other villages, and not with the Takers being what they are. "I think they want a war with Shapers. A great bloody war. I think they might do good, but there are influences against it. I think Shaper should beware. I think, in some ways, Takers are wise, but some go too, too far." Poola is more critical than you expected, and much more insightful. "Such as?" you prompt her. "If you go out through east gate and go north, you find small sect of Takers who have passion for death of Shapers beyond anything I imagine. If you go near them, they just kill you. They hate Gnorrel for thinking we can deal with some Shapers. Their hate goes to madness." "Thanks for the warning... Are there any particular twists and turns in Kazg which might interest me?" You're both venturing quite a bit in a conversation going down in the middle of the fort, but the other serviles are doing their best to keep their distance, and Poola has a soft voice which probably doesn't carry too far. At least, you hope it doesn't, for her sake. "Well, there is tower in southwest corner of fort. It is guarded, but careful ones can slip past patrol. It is chambers of Learned Toivo, and I know he has valuable notes back there," Poola murmurs. That's far more than you expected a Taker to tell you. "Why are you helping me?" "I only want freedom. I not know how I want it, but I know we are not going right way. Now I must return to my work." She walks away, trowel in hand. On your way south, you accost a servile who isn't fast enough to evade you. He's a small, weary example of his kind. He must be a farmer. He's covered with dirt, and he's carrying a sack of seed and some heavy tools. "What do you want, Shaper?" he says, while staring at the ground. "Who is in charge here?" He points at the huge building at the west end of town. "Gnorrel is there. She is leader, our leader, leader of Takers. She tell you." You're not going to get much out of this farmer. "How is your farming going?" you try. "Farming bad," he says, and just when you think he'll stop with that, he erupts. "Farming always bad! We live here as long as we remember, in Kazg, in this dusty, dirty place, where the land dies little more each year, getting more hungry, getting more weak." As he speaks, he stares at the ground. "You Shapers leave us like this, and now you return, and want us to obey. We not ask for freedom, like weak Awakened. We take our freedom. We take it from you." He has nothing else to say to the likes of a Shaper.  You find an abandoned Shaping hall. Any traces of the Shaping platform that should've been here are long gone. There's a broken canister -- more the shame, really.  The northeastern quadrant of Kazg is a shambles. Most of it has been abandoned, with rubble all over the ground and, as you peek through a dead doorway, even mines. No one would place mines in a truly useless area... Something is hidden back here. Unfortunately, these mines have a greenish cast, which means your brown spore baton probably won't have an effect. You're not about to waste the baton on an experiment, either. You order PurpleXVI past the mines. As expected, a regular creation doesn't trigger them. PurpleXVI scouts for you. It's not quite as helpful as going yourself, but at least you can get a general sense of this section's layout and what might be hidden here from the impressions your roamer sends back.     PurpleXVI frisks back, obviously glad of the special assignment. You pat the roamer's head and treat it to the last strip of dried meat from your rapidly dwindling rations. You need to get past the mines somehow, but triggering them personally isn't an option. Maybe the answer will come to you in time.   Despite the Takers' hatred of your kind, they've maintained the essence pools here. You relax in the waves of soothing power and decide to invest more of your essence into GreatEvilKing and idhrendur. You sense that the challenges of Sucia Island will only become greater from here on out, and you and your creations must be ready to meet them.  The opposite sector is dominated by a large dining hall. Right now, there's only one being in the hall, and she's collecting dirty dishes. The efforts of preparing food for the many serviles in central Kazg have left this servile bent and tired. Still, she labors on, determined not to shirk her duties. When she sees you, though, you notice that she picks up a sharp knife. "I Kaxen. This my kitchen. No Shaper welcome here." "Why do you threaten me?" you ask. You don't raise your hands; as a Shaper, such a move might be interpreted as you preparing a spell rather than as a sign of peace. "I hate you. I hate your kind. You leave me be, or you pay," Kaxen hisses. You try to take a more sympathetic approach, since you don't want to provoke a fight. "Is it difficult doing cooking for Kazg?" "Many hungry mouths. Never enough food. Something no Shaper ever knows anything about. You leave me be," she says. "Fine, then. I will go." You turn, but not before you catch the glint of her waving a knife at you. But she doesn't come after you, so you calmly make your escape through the nearby alley.  There's a certain smell in the air here that's neither servile cooking nor poisoned earth. While you're quite literally sniffing around, you notice a servile slouching outside of a very wide doorway. This servile's robes have many pockets, and tools and bits of Shaper artifacts poke out of each one. She looks too distracted by her work to have many opinions on politics, Taker or otherwise. "I am Kyazo. What do you want?" She doesn't look at you as she speaks. You aren't even sure if she knows you're a Shaper or not. "What is your job here?" you ask. She doesn't seem as violently opposed to talking to you as the cook Kaxen is, at least. "I am a tinker. Some of us still pass down old servile tinker knowledge, because it is useful. I help work on growing useful creations, and on making land grow." Kyazo sounds bored beyond reckoning. She chews on a twig as she talks to you without ever glancing your way. "You grow creations?" It sounds even more outlandish than Learned Jaffee's taming program and Buron's tool breeding attempts, but at this point, you think you're prepared for anything. "We cannot make them. We not use magic. Shapers breed us to not have magic. But we can grow living things left to use. So I grow mines and spore boxes and other devices. Gnorrel asks, and I provide. She works hard to help serviles, so I help her." Kyazo tinkers with one of the artifacts from her many pockets. She doesn't seem to be paying much attention to you. "Why is the land here so barren and dusty?" You're not upset at her rudeness, not after having so many blades bared at you. This is positively welcoming by comparison. "I do not know. It come upon us over years, starting when my grandfather was alive. Land to north barren, the area crawls south. Not know what causes it." Her resignation at the mystery is plain to hear, but she doesn't seem to have surrendered to the inevitable yet. "Have many plans, though, to make land more fertile. Working hard, so we may eat." "Do have any devices you could sell to me?" you ask. You doubt you can appeal to any lingering loyalty to the Shapers who made all these tools possible, but perhaps coin will motivate her. "I give no help to one who is not a Taker. I am loyal." With that, you give up; unless and until you throw in your lot with these rogues, you'll get no meaningful help from most of them. There's no sense in being more sympathetic than you need to be in order to avoid an untimely shanking. It's just a waste of time to try and bring them around. Instead, you must make a broader decision about how you'll relate to this ornery sect. Gnorrel waits. You decide to finish taking the lay of the land and then meet her.  Game Text posted:This is a breeding hall. The serviles have been growing new mines. The fungal creatures are mating and slowly growing in the pits to the west. Since they don't become volatile until they have lived several months, they can be transported safely. At least you now know the source of most, if not all of the mines you've come across -- this alarmingly skillful servile has been making them. If only you knew how to meddle with her breeding program... Alas, you don't have the power or knowledge to render the mines harmless or sterile.   This massive hall must have once been where the leadership of this administrative center made announcements and heard disputes. Now it is full of chairs all facing one long, stone table, behind which is a lone servile. She has quite the array of armed guards all ceremoniously standing before the pillars here. The sour smell of Kazg's poisoned earth is less here, but it's replaced by the mildew of years of unskilled maintenance.  There is an old servile standing behind the long table. She looks like she has been alive for many years, all of them hard. When she sees you for the first time, she has to exert a great effort to keep herself under control. Part of her wants to attack you. She is sorely tempted to just call the guards and have it out here and now. But she has other plans, so she controls her rage and hatred. After a few long moments, she gains enough control to speak. "Shaper. You have come to us. I am Gnorrel, leader of the Takers. Though I am the sworn enemy of your kind, I am able to deal with you personally without rage. Come and we may speak." "I want to learn about the Takers," you say. It's only polite to hear her out after she has somehow restrained her little army of fanatics. "I am glad. I will tell you our story, if you choose to hear it," Gnorrel says. "All right." You spread your hands a bit before remembering their nervousness about your magic. "Tell me your story." It's what you came for, after all. That, and a boat. "We serviles have lived in Kazg for many years, after you Shapers left us. It was hard. You have many tunnels and warrens to the north, and creatures came out of them and savaged us. And the land slowly grew worse. We don't know why. "The plants died, and we were hungry, and we died. But we were loyal. We believed that you created us, and, for that we owed you a debt. But as the years passed, and we suffered more and more, we grew angrier." Gnorrel falls silent. As her audience, she has certain expectations of you. She wants you to be invested in her tale, in the story of the Takers, and perhaps wants to make you identify with them on some level. "Then what happened?" After all, haven't you also been abandoned on Sucia Island? You were sent alone without escort to the colony, and when you vanish, any search effort will be small and brief. "Then one of us stepped forward. His name was lost. One day, he went to the middle of the square, mad with hunger and anger, and he raised his fist, and he shouted. He yelled 'The Shapers are wrong! They torment! They bad! We must take our free!" "What happened to him?" "Oh, he was killed. We were loyal to your kind then, and the guards struck him down instantly. But the idea was planted. And, as the years past, more and more came to repeat his words. We call ourselves Takers, now, because we will take our freedom from you, however we can. You lost all right to control us when you left us here," she finishes. These serviles are all rogues. In the end, the Shapers must destroy them all. It's impolitic to say so, though, even if both you and Gnorrel recognize this inevitability. "Well, if you think you should be free, then it's only right. I hope it won't be necessary to fight, though." "I hope so too. But not all of my people feel that way. If what we are planning works, it will not be necessary to have bloodshed." That sounds... ominous. You doubt Gnorrel will openly tell you her plans even if you throw your lot in with hers wholeheartedly. She has too much to lose. "What do you want from me, then?" you ask. "We want you to ally with us. We have certain plans in motion, but we need a Shaper to work with us. If you do, you will be fighting for justice, for freedom for the creations you have treated so badly. But there is more than that. If you will help us, you will gain power. If you help us, we can make you strong, incredibly strong, stronger than your masters would ever let you be. Help us, and you can take some of the power hidden on this island." She doesn't smile, but you think you detect a hint of triumph in her small, dark eyes. If they can't appeal to your sense of justice, then, they will try to appeal to your greed. You admit there's something to her words... The Shapers would have never allowed you to gain this much power this quickly, or perhaps even ever at all. They have abandoned the canisters, after all, even though they're a much more convenient way of spreading Shaper knowledge than long term apprenticeships. But there are good reasons for that, as you're coming to see. "Why have you not attacked me?" you ask. "I have let you live and approach me because my allies want your help, and we want your help. We want you to ally with us. We have much we need, and much to offer." She rests her small hands on the tabletop, maybe to steady herself, maybe to help hold her back from lunging across the table for your throat. You can't be sure. "I am trying to find a boat. Where can I find one?" "If you were allied with the Takers, I might help you," Gnorrel replies. The slyness grates; of course she won't make it easy for you to return to the Shapers and tell them of what's transpiring here. She probably won't help you even if you join her. "What do you know about the outsider humans?" Trajkov and the Sholai have been working with this rogue, you know it. Rogue serviles and rogue humans, banding together against the Shapers and seizing that power for themselves... It's terrifying to consider. "They are called the Sholai. When you are allied with the Takers, there is much I can tell you." You grit your teeth. "I would like to ally myself with the Takers." If Gnorrel is like Rydell and Ellhrah, you don't doubt that there will be errands and ideological tests ahead before you're accepted as one of them... if the Takers can ever truly accept a Shaper. "We have heard what you have said to the other serviles. Rumors travel. We know what you think. We believe that you can help serviles to be free. Before we will trust you, though, you must prove yourself with a deed." You are tired of deeds, very tired. You've cut your way across this island, only for short-sighted, bureaucratic serviles to kick at your heels and tug at your sleeves. "What task do I need to do to earn your trust?" You don't roll your eyes even though you very much wish to. "To the west, near Vakkiri, you can find a servile named Ellhrah. He has mocked us one too many times. He has spied on us, killed our agent, converted our followers, and worked against us in many ways. We need for him to die. Do this, slay him, and we will take you into our number. Only this task lies between you and the rewards we offer you," Gnorrel says. You laugh. If there's a little madness in it, it hardly compares to Gnorrel's own. She doesn't flinch. She likely has only the slightest idea of how much Leader Rydell has interfered with her and Vakkiri. Perhaps all those corpses outside the village all the way back in Crag Valley also include Takers. The Obeyers are truly exploiting their position in the middle. The Awakened have precious little power, and certainly not enough to project it all the way into Kazg's territory. "I'll consider it," you say when the laughter's run its course. Part Two is posted below.
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Dec 6, 2016 00:26
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Kazg Wheels, Kazg Deals Part 2 Off in a nearby alcove is the servile warrior who intervened for you at the northern gate. He wears a thick steel breastplate and a long sword. The breastplate looks like it has been passed down for centuries and has seen the damage of dozens (if not hundreds) of battles. The servile wearing it is similarly worn. "I am Eko Blade, Shaper, warrior and loyal Taker. I have been instructed to speak with you and enlist your help in several tasks of value to the Takers." "The Takers are opposed to my kind. Why should I help you?" you ask. He must have heard your exchange with Gnorrel, and without carpets and tapestries, voices would reach far throughout the keep. "Because, if you help us, we might ally with you. We can offer you much. Much knowledge, and much power. Do not underestimate us, Shaper. Speak to Gnorrel, and you will learn more. Lately, things have gotten better, for reasons I should not discuss with you," Eko says. "I've already spoken with your leader. What do you think I should do?" "East of here, there is a band of outsider humans. Leave Kazg to the east. Cross the bridge. If you say I allow it, the guards there will let you pass. Travel to the wet, dank caves to the east. Kill the outsider humans you find there. Do this for me, and I will pay you well. This will be a token of the power the Takers can offer you, for your help." This must be the splinter group of outsiders, those who rebel against Trajkov. "Why do you want them dead?" The Takers must be doing Trajkov's bidding for some reason, but you don't know why. But Eko Blade isn't interested in sharing intelligence. "Because Gnorrel wishes it. Do this, and you will be well rewarded."   You pass a nook full of Taker warriors who are just itching for Gnorrel to order an assassination. You give them all a hard look, and then walk to the other side of the hall. This audience chamber is a far cry from what it would have been during the Shapers' rule. All that remains of its true beauty is this gallery. The Shapers know all about function following form, and this informs your culture's art -- the function of the abstract is to provoke contemplation and evoke certain emotions. These are of an older style that you are less familiar with, but you think their orderly, spiraling fronds were meant to draw out the feeling of harmonious cooperation and the solemn joy of fulfilling one's role. Now, though, they only collect foul dust. No one but you has visited this little public art display in ages, and it's unlikely anyone else ever will.   You find what appears to be the Takers' prison. A table with cuffs and a stained knife show that dire conversations have taken place here. The blood on the knife is long dry. No one bothered to clean it. The serviles outside watch with worrisome smugness as you approach the lever. They don't move as you pull it. They don't care what you see or hear. Inside is a servile who can barely keep himself upright, but, when he sees you, he stands to attention. He looks hungry, and he has been badly beaten. "Shaper. At last. I am Houten. I am an Obeyer. At last, you have come." "You are very ill. How can I help you?" You try to use your healing craft on him, but he has lost so much weight and is so malnourished that there's little for your magic to cling to. His body is already devouring itself. "Please, Shaper, do not. Soon, the Takers will haul me out, and they will kill me, and I will show them how a servile should die, in the true belief of the true will of the Shapers. If one servile must die to forward the will of your kind, that is a small price to pay. I will not eat and I will not escape," he says. Starvation and torture are horrible ways to die without combining them like this. You know that you can't walk Houten out of here -- even if you might survive the effort, you wouldn't be able to protect him. All you can do is try to give him some comfort in what are certainly his final days. "You are wise and noble, in your way. We Shapers approve of your obedience." "Thank you, Shaper. You are kind to comfort me in my time of trial." Houten watches you vacantly. He doesn't have the energy to speak. "Why have you been imprisoned here?" "I was sent by Rydell. I am supposed to watch what the Takers here are doing. I was found out. Now, though, I can give my information to you. You will surely help us against the evil Takers." "What do you want me to know?" you ask, leaning in closer to hear his thin voice. Houten's voice takes on some strength as he focuses on the chance you represent. "The Takers here, they deal with the outsider humans. They are called the Sholai. You must tell Rydell. You must warn him. Tell him!" "Who is the leader of these humans?" You can't pass up the opportunity for additional confirmation. With more factions of outsiders on the scene, you must be certain of all the players on this stage. "All I know is his name. They are led by one called Trajkov. He was their leader when they came here from over the sea, and he leads them now. He lives in the tunnels to the north." Interesting -- that's where the rogues come from and where the blight originates, if Gnorrel is to be believed. This also confirms your hypothesis that the outsiders are hiding in the forbidding northern region... The serviles' fearful avoidance of that place grants a great deal of privacy. "What do the outsiders want?" "There is something... something called the Geneforge. I don't know what it is or what it does. But I know it is here, and the Takers and the Sholai seem to think it holds the key to everything. I tried to... tried to talk to the rebel Sholai. But I could not reach them." Houten must have been captured while trying to reach the outsiders penned up east of here. That's still a long way from Pentil. You wonder if the bridges were blocked before or after he got here. "Rebel Sholai?" you ask. "There are some of the Sholai. They... they are hiding in a cave to the east. Outside the outskirts of... Kazg. The Takers trapped them in a cave. Find them. Reach them. Talk... talk to them." He chokes. "They know things. Valuable things. I am sure of it." With this, Houten runs out of strength. You leave him though your heart is filled with regret. The Obeyers certainly don't flinch from using force. You saw their own mirror of this place. They certainly torture and kill in the name of the Shapers. Both sects are setting up their own echoes of human evil. It's only human nature that you find it more sickening when you're forced to confront the results directly.  Foul decay assails you when you open this door. The Takers have left a piteous corpse here. They have no consideration for anyone who doesn't conform to their ideals, not even fellow serviles, not even to straighten the bodies of the dead. You do your best, but this body is too far gone.  The southwestern corner of Kazg houses most of the living quarters. This is where the tower Poola told you about is. It's just a squat guard tower, but apparently one of the more important Takers now dwells in it. As you approach, a guard runs up to you, weapon drawn. "Halt! You not supposed to be here! This private tower!" "I am proving myself to join the Takers. If Gnorrel finds out that you're interfering with her diplomacy, she will make you pay," you snarl. Your acting certainly fits the tower guard's impression of how a villainous Shaper should behave. The guard is confused and nervous. Mostly nervous. Fortunately, he finds your act convincing, and he quietly returns to his post. You just hope he's too intimidated and embarrassed to ask anyone about this later.  The stairs to the second story of this tower are long gone, probably rotted and cleared away. The upper floor appears unreachable and uninhabited, but the ground floor is comfortably furnished by servile standards. You investigate the desk on the far wall first. Game Text posted:This is a large notebook. It contains all of Toivo's notes on what he has learned about the language of the outsider humans. For a servile, he is unusually insightful. This isn't enough by itself for you to decipher that letter, but it's something. You check Toivo's cabinets to see if there's anything else that might help you deal with the Takers and the Sholai. Game Text posted:This cabinet contains pens, sheets of papyrus, and lots of notes. Toivo has gone to great effort to try to figure out Shaper magical techniques. Even a brief inspection indicates that he understands absolutely nothing. The other cabinet contains living tools. You help yourself and shut up the cabinets before you go. No sense in making your little thefts more obvious.  You find a library in the heart of the compound, near where its counterpart in Pentil is located. And, just like in Pentil, there's a wizened servile who has claimed the place as his personal domain. Game Text posted:Though Taker vandals have destroyed much of what the Shapers left here, they left this library alone. For some reason, they left these records intact, though they have made no extra effort to preserve them. You accidentally corner the library's tyrant by one of the light crystals. While this servile is clearly afflicted with the madness common among Takers, he also seems quite calm and intelligent. He is also very at home in his library. "The Shaper comes. Yes. I am Learned Toivo of Takers. I speak with you of Taker learning." "Why do you look after our Shaper writings? Why don't you just destroy them?" you ask. Toivo must see that the texts here are useless, worth less even than the moldering scrolls they're written upon. "The Shapers enslave us. The Shapers is the enemy. And the wisdom of tactics is to know all you can of the enemy, so you can use their powers and defeat them." A Guardian would approve of this theory, though not of the one saying it. "Each year, we learn more of you and the secrets and tricks you I use to keep us down. One day, we use that knowledge," Toivo says. "Why do the serviles in Kazg speak much more crudely than serviles elsewhere?" The first time you heard the familiar argot was Clakkit. Your meeting with him seems so far away now, though it's been barely more than a week... you think. It's hard to say anymore. "Crude to you, honest to us. Other serviles, they say they might want freedom, but in head, they weak servants who imitate masters. We choose not speak like you. Who is Shaper to say how servile talk or not talk?" You choose not to argue the merits of proper grammar and obedience. "What have you learned here?" "Ah, but you not a Taker. You not an ally. I help you not. Talk to Gnorrel. Ally with us, and I give you full access to the learning here." Little does he know that you've already read his little journal. Still, he might have access to more knowledge that you would find useful. Toivo absently arranges the scrolls as he speaks with you. "What else you know?" Poor Dayna would be so depressed to see all these Shaper scrolls in such pathetic condition. For you, the most offensive part about this library is the mold -- it makes you want to sneeze, but doing that in front of a Taker feels undignified. "What do the Takers believe?" "We believe, like the Awakened, that we should be free. But we know that you Shapers will never give freedom to us. We must take it, using every weapon we have," he says. "I see," you murmur, and make your excuses to get away. Toivo's phrasing is useful for one thing -- now you understand exactly what the Takers want from you in a very concisely framed way. They want to point you like a sword against the Shapers' throats. You take your time investigating the Kazg library, though that makes avoiding Toivo rather awkward. Game Text posted:Inside the cabinet, you find an old, dusty scroll. Unrolling it carefully to keep it from crumbling, you read the faded words on the page. It is a proclamation, issued about two hundred years ago:  Game Text posted:This thick book is full of records on Sucia Island, the layout, the contents, descriptions of main research facilities, and so on. It looks like the serviles have been flipping through it carefully, trying to understand its contents. You found one of them in Toivo's tower, you're pretty sure; you wonder where the other may turn up.   The market of Kazg is the largest you've seen yet. This region must be rich in Shaper artifacts and records even if it is terrible for agriculture. You greet one of Kazg's merchants. This bazaar looks like it used to be host to a thriving trade. No longer. This merchant looks thin, hungry, and desperate for more business. "Ah, the Shaper. This is my humble shop." Though the merchant is hungry for business, she isn't sure whether she should deal with you. You decide not to let her dwell too long about what the others might say. "How is business?" "Ah, Shaper, well. These the trying times for us all. So we do not trade with other serviles. But it is for greater good, I assure you." She says it, but she doesn't look like she believes it. For all the Takers' talk about being independent, they still obey someone -- they've just shifted that obedience from its rightful subject to Gnorrel and her guards. "Why don't you deal with the other towns?" "It been made clear that they are actually enemies, and that the Takers have new allies now. That is what I know, and I do not like talk of it. It is not to me to question great wisdom of Gnorrel," the merchant says. "Well, I would like to trade with you," you reply, subtly motioning to the bulging purse at your waist.   After you unload some heavy salvage, you make another lap around the keep. This time you stumble upon the mine breeding lab at an opportune moment. Kyazo has stepped away, and none of the patrolling guards are in sight. You quickly rifle through the chests and cabinets until you find something interesting -- another spore baton, but this one is green. You pocket it, close up the chest, and leave before anyone can corner you.  You use the wand to swiftly detonate the green mines here. Back in the second to last room you find where the servant mind for this keep used to be, as well as a locked cabinet containing more mind nutrients. You take the jar just in case. The real prize is in the last room. You find that there's only one canister remaining -- someone destroyed them all with a hammer that still lies in a pile of ruined canisters. PurpleXVI couldn't differentiate between broken and intact canisters, but no matter. The last remaining canister still works. It doesn't poison you like the defective thing you found in the marsh. Instead, you find that you now know how to shape a vlish. Such a creation would be a potent help against the rogues and outsiders, but you can barely manage three varieties of creation at this point. Any more and you know you would lose control. You haven't been Shaping long enough to wrangle that many divergent wills at once. You decide that you need to think on what Gnorrel has said and that you also want to try to make peaceful contact with the rebel Sholai... And you don't think you can rest safely in Kazg. You'll need another place to lay your head tonight.  Next time: It Can Only Get Worse Voting posted:It's that time again. We've met all three servile factions. We've also heard of another Shaper that the Takers wish to kill, of the outsider Sholai led by Trajkov, and of the outsider Sholai who rebelled against Trajkov.
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Dec 6, 2016 00:28
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5 EDITED: gently caress it. Let's go with 5. If I kept a vote for the Takers, joining with the Awakened might win. 
PurpleXVI fucked around with this message at 10:17 on Dec 6, 2016 |
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Dec 6, 2016 00:52
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2. Sincerely join the Obeyers? They have definitely skirted the line and pushed the boundaries, but they recognize the insanity of the Takers and the naivete of the Awakened and are trying to do the best they can to hold things together. The overall morality of serviles and their place in the order of things might be reasonably questioned, but an abandoned island filled with Shaper secrets and murderous outsiders is not really the place for a complete rejiggering of the social order. This is neither the time nor the place to completely go off the reservation and try to upend the entire planet. Also, if you want to save the serviles, the Obeyers are really the only option. Supporting the Takers or Awakened is really just delaying the inevitable as the first thing the Shaper Council will do is to kill them with fire. 
MagusofStars fucked around with this message at 01:01 on Dec 6, 2016 |
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Dec 6, 2016 00:54
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1B
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Dec 6, 2016 01:12
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1B. The Awakened are not batshit insane and trying to make us insane too, like the Takers, and unlike the Obeyers they at least are up front about wanting to use us. Plus they at least seem to like the idea of fair trade, where the Obeyers seem to want us to solve all their problems before they may or may not actually obeying us and giving us aid of questionable worth, before demanding we solve every problem forever. But don't kill a servant mind that doesn't want to kill you. Servant minds are cute, just not quite as much as a Fyora.
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Dec 6, 2016 01:15
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1B The Awakened look like the most reasonable bunch.
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Dec 6, 2016 01:43
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