“Didn’t want you to get lost in the dark”, he smirks as he approaches, a bottle of some alcohol in hand. The smell of distilled fruit follows him, as he sits down next to you. He offers a swig, you accept. A few short anecdotes about the life with a caravan mixed with a little sprinkle of banter later, the conversation turns to where the two of you came from. He talks about his past, how he left the empire behind and came to be on this caravan - You tune out for the bit. It’s a story you have heard a dozen times over ever since you have left with this merry band of misfits. “Now -”, he takes another swig and passes the bottle back to you, “What about you? How come you left the Somewheres beyond the mountains for this godforsaken place?”

Slowly, your mind puts the bits and pieces back together, a story forms - And it begins with...

>The shunning of your family name. No matter if it was all true or not, you couldn’t keep your cushy position as a bureaucrat in the ministry. Some time abroad was the best solution.
>The end of one of many wars. You fought your entire life - now that peace finally settled in, society didn’t need a life-long warrior. So you set out to make yourself useful, elsewhere.
>You, smirking at the guard, showing him the collar around your neck. You convinced the judge and jury you were simply a victim of unfortunate consequences, not a hard-boiled criminal. Your punishment: Transportation into exile.
>A set of controversial experiments. All in the pursuit of science, of course! And, your work is highly valued by the ministry! However, censorship struck. Now, your position sees you operate outside of empire borders.
>You reading of things no human should. The words still burn in your head, like an afterimage. Your knowledge was deemed too dangerous to remain inside the borders, and you were forced to continue your search here.

>>4202442
>The shunning of your family name. No matter if it was all true or not, you couldn’t keep your cushy position as a bureaucrat in the ministry. Some time abroad was the best solution

>>4202442
>>The end of one of many wars. You fought your entire life - now that peace finally settled in, society didn’t need a life-long warrior. So you set out to make yourself useful, elsewhere.

>>4202442
>You reading of things no human should. The words still burn in your head, like an afterimage. Your knowledge was deemed too dangerous to remain inside the borders, and you were forced to continue your search here.

>>4202442
>You reading of things no human should. The words still burn in your head, like an afterimage. Your knowledge was deemed too dangerous to remain inside the borders, and you were forced to continue your search here.

>>4202442
>The end of one of many wars. You fought your entire life - now that peace finally settled in, society didn’t need a life-long warrior. So you set out to make yourself useful, elsewhere.

I was about to begin writing, will wait about 20 for a tie-breaker.

>>4202442
>You reading of things no human should. The words still burn in your head, like an afterimage. Your knowledge was deemed too dangerous to remain inside the borders, and you were forced to continue your search here.

We got our tie-breaker, commencing writing.

>>4202570
>>4202560
>>4202502
>>4202497
>>4202479
>>4202454

You still remember that fateful day, working through the backlog of the old archives, deep below some almost forgotten ministry building. How the bound pages whispered to you from under the pile. How they grew louder and louder as you dug it out. The feeling of leather in your hands, the smell of old parchment. Then - You stop relaying your memories. A bright light creeps into your vision, whispers ring in your ear, a few words flash through your mind. Groaning, you massage your temples. The guard pats you on the back. Was it out of empathy or pity? The burning sensation leaves your mind as sudden as it appeared, you continue. How nothing remained of the book but smoldering ash. How the Alchemists found you in your apartment, scriptures pertaining your condition strewn about, frantically inscribing your findings onto the walls. How they helped you, keep the fire in your mind at bay - For now. It’s still there, burning, yearning, consuming.

Soon after, the archive vanished. You were branded as a danger to the public, and it was suggested that you leave, posthaste. The guard leans back after you pass the bottle. “And now? Are you simply awaiting the inevitable?” You shake your head. Of course not. Your hope has yet to run out. And your research has pointed you into a direction, a destination. You turn your head to the glow on the horizon. The city surrounding the oasis in middle of this burning desert: The Middle of Nowhere.

>Deed gained: Rune-Plagued Researcher - Once a researcher in a half-forgotten archive, you have read things no human should. The words still burn in your mind.
>Attributes gained: +1 Vigilance, +1 Weirdness
>Condition gained: Rune-Plague (Burning) - Contained, for now, the knowledge still burns in the back of your mind.
>This condition will worsen over time. You wouldn’t want it to consume you altogether.

>On Deeds: These are your achievements of the past, present, and future. They can convey special powers, bonuses to your attributes and more.

>On Attributes: These signify your accumulated knowledge and natural skill in a broad range of topics. The Attributes are:
>Vigor: Physical prowess, your ability to endure and to cause violence.
>Vigilance: The sharpness of your senses and mind, as well as a range of academic knowledge.
>Slyness: Your general Witt, a silver tongue and charisma.
>Secrecy: Your affinity for the shadows and the things typically done there.
>Weirdness: Attunement for the supernatural, a grasp for the arcane and ability to tap into powers beyond the veil.
>These are used as bonuses in checks. More on these, once we encounter them.

>1/2

>>4202664
As the sun burns high in the sky, the city walls come into view, a patchwork of metal sheets surround high-rising brick buildings, and spirits are high as the caravan picks up the pace. Camps of other travelers - adventurers, scavengers and merchants alike - rest outside the imposing gates. Men in colorful robes stand watch, as you pass through onto the busy streets. The Middle of Nowhere is built around a blue eye of water, an oasis keeping the city alife. The broad main street quickly turns into a bazar as it approaches the oasis, many workshops and trade stalls line the sides as people haggle for wares and services. The caravan stops as it reaches the refreshing water, people refill bottles and bring animals to the shore, while trucks and wagons are unloaded of their cargo.

When the last crate finds its spot, the caravan master and their steward bring together the hands - Time for payment, and time for you to take your leave. However, when you were expected to be handed coin for your work, the steward simply tells you to listen up and whispers a short story of past trips to the desert. “Trust me, coin is not worth much in this strange place.”, they reassure you, seeing your confused expression, “A good story is worth far more than its weight in gold.” Still confused, your brain alerts you to a peculiarity: While passing the bazar, you haven’t seen a single piece of currency trade hands, only hushed conversations and haggling about quantities. How stories are supposed to be as valuable as golden coins is a mystery to you, yet more pressing matters arise: The reason for your travel:

An archive is located somewhere in the city. Your research pointed to this place, with travel accounts speaking of sheer endless stores of knowledge, unhindered by the censorship of the alchemists. You suspect that, if any place held information about your condition, it would be stored here.
In addition, a temple has been chiseled into the stone hanging over the oasis. The monks residing there are older than the city and have dealt with the paranormal nature of Nowhere for as long as they have resided here, if the books are to be believed. Should the archives not pan out, the monks, in their ancient wisdom, should at least be able to hand you another pointer.

However, this strange place beacons to be explored. The bazar is teeming with activity, a few taverns line the promenade and your mind will be consumed by alien thoughts either way, so why not relax for a moment. You earned it, after all.

>Visit the archives, continue your research.
>Seek out help with the monks in their stone temple.
>Take some time to explore the city, visit another place (Write-in)

>>4202667
>Seek out help with the monks in their stone temple.
Maybe going straight to more books isn't the best idea right now.

>>4202667
>Visit the archives, continue your research.
Knowledge is power. Best to keep that power as long as we can afford to hold it.

Will be waiting for a tie-breaker - Resuming in about 40-ish minutes, when I'm done eating.

>>4202667
>Visit the archives, continue your research.

We got our breaker - Writing commences!

>>4202683
>>4202701
>>4202772

You take a while to find your way through the city, asking passersby for directions. Off the wide main roads, the streets quickly narrow down and meander between the buildings. Yet, you feel slightly disappointed as you arrive at the Archive: A large spire, built from bricks leans into the warm desert wind. The roof is partially missing, you watch crumbs of brick break off and tumble onto nearby roofs. Not what you were used to back home, nor what you expected from an archive supposedly rich in all kinds of scriptures. With a sigh, you walk up to the sunbleached wooden door, grab a rusted handle and enter.

The smell of old paper hits you as soon as you set foot into the spire. The entrance of the archive was small: a small study area with tables, chairs, and lamps offered the possibility to sit down and read. A large bulletin board occupied a wall next to the door held a well-organized collection of various papers. A desk, filled with neat stacks of books and papers, a bell in the midst of it all. A small sign next to the bell reads: ”In the back, ring the bell.” Beyond the entrance area lies a maze of bookshelves. The first few shelves are organized by the newest archival standards, no book out of place, every shelf with a small card describing which books can be found where. But, as you peer deeper into the maze, the pathway beings to meander und ultimately turns further into the spire itself. Looking up, you see more floors, spiraling upwards right up to the damaged roof, rays of sun pierce through the misaligned shingles.

Now that you are here, having taken in the dimension of this archive, you being to hear it. A low hum penetrates your skull as if something was vibrating in your mind. Slowly, the sound gains dimension and volume, turning into whispers, cascading through the maze-like structure of the archive. You know this siren call all too well. A word flashes in front of your mind’s eye. You stagger backward. You fight the urge of the flames at the back of your mind, for now.

>Hit the bell, you require assistance.
>Ventrue into the organized selection of books.
>View the bulletin board.
>Snoop around the desk.
>Consider another option (Write-In)

>>4202948
>Ventrue into the organized selection of books.

>>4203189

Being a seasoned researcher, you feel right at home in the organized section of the archive. Quickly you begin to pick out books that have been unavailable to you in your old archive, as well as a few unknown to you. Surrounded by stacks of reading material, you make yourself comfortable in the study area. Sadly, combing through these tomes of knowledge reveals little new information, however, it does confirm your initial assessment: Your affliction is not of the body, but the mind, caused by knowledge attained through the written word. That this knowledge is now burrowing through your mind, as your brain tries to decode its meaning. That the aftermath of this process is, as one author put it, “of equal amounts of beauty and abhorrent disfiguration”. Not the outcome you had in mind.

On the bright side, other books shed some light on other aspects: One study of stories throughout the ages hypothesizes these dangerous bits of knowledge to be parts of far more powerful stories that humans have lost the ability to utilize. Another sets forth, claiming the side-effect of an affected person’s heightened desire to accumulate more knowledge is the product of the brain frantically trying to expand its understanding of the inexplicable piece of memory it has absorbed. While none of these books mention a cure for your ailment, you still grab a pen and some paper to scribble down your findings.

>Condition Gained: Knowledge of the Unknowable (Limited) - A collection of your research concerning your ailment.

>>4203499

As you are finishing up your notes, something moves in the corner of your eye. From the labyrinth of shelves, a robed figure emerges, a stack of books in their hands. The young man whistles as he drops off the scriptures on his desk before coming over to greet you. He introduces himself as the resident Archivist, trying his best to keep the old collection in check. “It is always nice to meet colleagues from the Somewheres!”, he smiles after you introduce yourself as a former Researcher and Archivist as well. After trading such pleasantries, you turn to the topic of your search for answers. The Young Archivist musters your collection of Books before answering. “Well, I think you got everything I had in the organized section. But, as you might have guessed, we do have many, many more books in the back.”, he points out the maze behind him, “Organizing all of it is slow and dangerous work. The previous Archivist was… a little scatter-brained. Needless to say, you are welcome to go in the back - If you don’t mind the chaos or the critters.”

Considering the possibility, you also ask him for any other pointers he might have on offer. “Of course, the monks of the city deal with all kinds of old knowledge, maybe they are in a good mood and willing to share. And, if you don’t mind waiting for a little while, I can offer you a little quid pro quo: I try to gather some books out from the back for you, and you help me with these- ”. He points out the Bulletin Board. “I collect the tasks and rumors of the city, organize them and post them to that board. Stuff like finding new locations out in the desert, bringing back reports on known settlements, the works. Maybe there’s something in there that can point you in another direction while I collect your books?” You promise nothing but will consider the offer. Content with your answer, the Young Archivist walks back to his desk, removes the small sign and begins sorting papers, filling lists and putting Books back onto shelves.

>Browse the Rumors and Tasks posted
>Head deeper into the archives. The whispers grow louder the closer to come to the maze.
>Move on to the temple, visit the monks and ask them for information.
>Do something else before you depart.

And with that, I'll finally disappear for today. Expect at least one more Update over the day tomorrow!

>>4203503
>Head deeper into the archives. The whispers grow louder the closer to come to the maze.

>>4203503
>Move on to the temple, visit the monks and ask them for information.

>>4203503
>Head deeper into the archives. The whispers grow louder the closer to come to the maze.

>>4203525
>>4203601
>>4203676

You might not have the time to wait for the archivist to dig out the books you are seeking. Besides, while you are here, why not take a quick look? Before you head into the archive, the Young Archivist produces a small lamp, a piece of chalk and some twine. “To mark your path. The twisting nature of the archives makes navigation a hassle otherwise.”, he explains with a smile before returning to his desk. You take a deep breath before you take your first steps deeper into the archive.

The Archivist wasn’t understating the problematic nature of the back portion of the archives. Soon after entering, you already seem to have lost your way: Passages loop up onto themselves, offshoots lead different ways depending on how they are being entered, the arrangement of books on the shelves changes when you aren’t looking, even the markings of chalk you have left on the way seem to be hellbent on misguiding you. Even worse, the Archive seems to be taunting your inability to navigate its halls, the books on the shelves couldn’t be further removed from what you are looking for. Horticulture and you, a guide to beat mother nature into submission? The delicate arts of pottery? A Python Cookbook? What does that even mean?

After arriving at a crossroads you have seemingly passed through dozens of times, you sit down against one of the massive shelves, resting for a brief moment. The nagging whispers in your head have only grown ever more present, ignoring the constant drone has become impossible. You realize you would have to find your way rather quickly, lest you want this place to swallow you whole. As such, you ponder how you should proceed.

>Scale the shelves to gain a vantage point and ease your travels. [Vigor: 0]
>Try to identify a pattern in the books on the shelves and the pathways of the maze. [Vigilance: 1]
>Give in to the whispers, let them guide you. [Weirdness: 1]
>Double back, leave this maze behind you.
>(Write-In)

>On Skill-Checks: Some options will require a check. A check uses the attribute written in brackets as a bonus to the roll. The roll itself is made via rolling 2d6+Bonuses. Anything 6 and below is considered a failure and might have adverse consequences. Anything between 7 to 9 is a moderate success which may come with drawbacks, anything 10 and more is a full success with no drawbacks or even a bonus on top. Rolls will be made by the QM after an option is locked in.

>>4204458
>>Try to identify a pattern in the books on the shelves and the pathways of the maze.

>>4204458
>Try to identify a pattern in the books on the shelves and the pathways of the maze. [Vigilance: 1]

Rolled 5, 4 + 1 = 10 (2d6 + 1)

>>4204512
>>4204515
Option locked in, rolling an writing now!

>>4204512
>>4204515

While enjoying the moment of respite, your gaze brushes over the contents of the shelf opposite to you. However, the seemingly random selection of books from various topics feels a little off. Intrigued, you get up, inspecting the books more closely. Haven’t you seen some of these before? It can’t be, these shelves are completely random after all… right? You pull out some paper to write down a few notable books, then, you exit the crossroad, only to end up at it once more. There! Some books stayed the same, others were replaced! You not them down, try the same route again. Similar results - Some books were replaced, others stayed. What was so special about these books? You take your time, flipping through the repeating ones, note down similarities in topic, author, length, writing style, and other characteristics. Slowly, and after many more iterations of this process, a pattern emerges. Eureka! You begin to take different routes, note down the transformation the shelves undergo. Your sheets of paper quickly fill with step-by-step instructions to produce specific transmutations on the shelves!

>Deed gained: Mapping the Archives - You have found ways to have limited order emerge from random chaos. This will make future expeditions into the archives more efficient!

Using your newly found procedures, you being to influence the selection of books shown to you by the archive. You lose count of how many times you nudge the archive’s selection of books in different directions before you are stopped by the nagging whispers at the back of your skull sharply protesting you passing this shelf. You massage your temples as you take a few steps back. Your view immediately zeros in on an old tome, you can feel yourself being drawn to its hardback cover. As you pull it out of the collection, the whispers cut out, your fingers tremble. “A Study in Stories - Of eras past, present and future.”, the title reads, no author is mentioned anywhere. Opening the book reveals hand-written pages, and your heart begins to sink. While the first page is still legible, the following pages quickly descent into some form of code, possibly mixed with passages of languages long gone out of use. Disappointed, you return to the first page, in the hope it may shed some light on this peculiarity.
>[1/2]

>>4205375

“Dear Reader, The following text holds the knowledge I had accumulated during my time spent between the roving dunes of Nowhere. While I had set out on a quest to further my understanding of the inherent powers of stories as they can be experienced only in this desert, my journey has led me down a dangerous path to uncover even greater, powerful and neigh forgotten lore. Dear Reader, it is due to these unfortunate circumstances that I am forced to present my works in coded language, to protect those who are unaware of the danger my findings may pose to their own well-being. Should you still hold the desire to unearth the mysteries of the past, buried beneath the sand, you will find the needed decoding instruction for certain chapters in the possession of dear companions and friends, and in hidden caches around Nowhere.
I trust you, dear Reader, that you understand the danger the uncoded pages present, and implore you thusly to handle its contents with utmost secrecy. May my life’s work benefit you and the future.
- Sir H. N.”


A sigh escapes you. Here, you hold the most promising clue you might have ever had, and yet you feel like you just went back to square one. You pocket your book and were about to…
A booming noise in the distance. The flapping of books as the rain down to the ground. An inhuman groan. Another shelf topples. Something lumbers through the maze. Is that one of the “critters” the Archivist mentioned? What in the bloody hell lives deep inside an archive?! No matter, you are not going to stick around to find out - at least not without a plan to defend yourself, if you must. Or at least a weapon of sorts. You start to retrace your steps, as the beastly noises grow quieter until you finally reemerge from the maze.

>Item gained: A Study in Stories (encoded). A handwritten book by some Sir H. N. Sadly, without any decoding instructions, this is of little use.
>The “critters” of the archive have taken note of you. You should be prepared the next time you venture back in.

“Back so soon?”, the Young Archivist looks surprised to see you back so soon, before he takes out a golden pocket watch, “Oh goodness - Nevermind. I must have lost track of time - Oh well. Had any luck?”

>Show the Archivist the mysterious book, ask if he knows anything about it.
>Check the bulletin board of rumors for any possible hints.
>Head towards the temple, see if the monks have any pointers for you.
>(Write-in)

>>4205379
>Show the Archivist the mysterious book, ask if he knows anything about it.

>>4205379
>>Show the Archivist the mysterious book, ask if he knows anything about it.

>>4205386
>>4206587

You present your newest find from the archive. The Young Archivist, visibly excited, takes the book out of your hands and proceeds to flip through the pages. Still, he has the same problem as you: The coded pages are a mystery to him, even though he does try a few coding methods know to him, with no avail. “Sadly, our archive does not hold much information about specific people.”, he explains with a slight frown on his face after you point to the mysterious author’s initials, “One of the numerous drawbacks of having no codified local government. However, we are not completely without possible leads - tho I’d rather not deal with them.” His frown only deepens. “Her Majesties Royal Empire. More specifically, their Embassy. They have their own magazines and archives. If this title was granted by the Empire’s Royalty, and our mystery author was affiliated with them in any way, it might be possible that they have various documents on hand.”

You too join in on the frowning. The Empire is notorious for keeping their information close to their chest and are not a fan sharing. Your status as a danger to the public might also make things more difficult. The Archivist’s hands back the book. “Of course, that is not the only course of action.” The frown turns back into a cheeky smirk. “You could, maybe, leave this beauty with me. I do my best to decode it, find out about our author and his friends and share my findings with you.”

You squint your eyes - What’s in it for him? “Nothing’s free in this world. Quid pro quo! Run some errands in the meantime - I rarely get to leave, and the tasks on the bulletin board only grow more numerous. Reliable adventurers are rare to find.” Sir H. M.’s warning springs to mind. Are you sure you’d want to share whats contained between these leather bindings? Unleash another potential Rune-Plague onto others? You ponder your options.

>Agree to leave the book in the Young Archivist’s hands. You’ll look forward to helping him out.
>You’d rather leave for the embassy and deal with the Empire - Public danger or not, you are a citizen nonetheless.
> You’d rather not jump the sand-shark just yet - You plan to visit the monks first.
>(Write-in)

>>4206757
>You’d rather leave for the embassy and deal with the Empire - Public danger or not, you are a citizen nonetheless.

I feel it would be bad for really anyone but us to know what is inside of this book.

>Agree to leave the book in the Young Archivist’s hands. You’ll look forward to helping him out.

I bet the Archivist would love a good mystery plus I dont think anyone will help us at the embassy unless we have something to bribe them with.
We are persona non grata after all.

>>4206936
>>4207244
Seeing how there's a tie, I will wait to update till the next day. If the tie isn't resolved in about 7 hours, I'll break it and do the update.

>>4206757
>Agree to leave the book in the Young Archivist’s hands. You’ll look forward to helping him out.

>>4206936
>>4207244
>>4207977

You weigh the book in your hands while doing the same with your current options: In the end, you feel it could be much more of a hassle to deal with the Empire for an uncertain payoff, while the Archivist seems more than capable to keep the book for you and help you out. He gladly accepts the book back, placing it into a drawer of the desk, using a key to lock it. “Do not worry - I too take this matter very seriously.”, he reassures you while shuffling through a sheaf of papers, looking for and picking out a few notes before handing them to you, “We will need some assistance in this matter. You did sign up for some legwork after all.”

You take a brief look at the different notes he handed you while he explains. Apparently, they are parties of note, which are more likely to be able - and willing - to help the two of you with your mystery book: First, the Mechanist, a workshop owner, and occasional adventuress. According to the notes, she regularly teams up with others seeking to travel the desert and holds close record of all her encounters. “We go back. She won’t help us pro bono, but expect a more-than-fair bargain.”
Second, the monks of the local temple. They are older than the city and hold intricate knowledge about the application of stories and their apparent power. “The de facto authority of the city. We usually don’t bother each other, but maybe, if we were to offer our help in the game of politics, they would be grateful.”
Third, a former archeologist, who know runs a dig-for-hire operation. He too has researched some of the weird facets of Nowhere in his time. “He’s a collector of sorts: Not only a great source of work for someone seeking to get out of Nowhere but also keen on acquiring new and novel artifacts.”
Lastly, the notes mention Diplomat… of her Majesty? Really? “He’s an arse.”, the archivist explains, “But a useful one. n with the Embassy, he is able to cover for some… less savory business ventures. If that’s your cup of tea.”

“Of course, there’s no need to convince them all.”, the Archivist mentions before you head out, “But, the more, the merrier. In the meantime, I’ll see if I can gather anything from my regular informants. Just swing by once you think you had enough running around.” He then waves you goodbye and returns his attention to the stack of reports in front of him. As you head for the door, you decide on your course of action.

>Visit the Mechanist first. She should be easy to convince, tho you fear she might not be of much use.
>Head down to the temple, to speak to the monks. Their knowledge might be very valuable.
>Seek out the Archeologist. Speaking to an academic colleague might be refreshing.
>Search for the Diplomat. You don’t look forward to it, but this could be the next best option besides heading into the Embassy yourself.
>Actually, head elsewhere, you have something in mind. (Write-in)

Please excuse the long wait, work sunk its teeth in me. However, I'll do my best to update at least once more today before disappearing again till tomorrow.

>>4208833
>Seek out the Archeologist. Speaking to an academic colleague might be refreshing.

Lets go get Indiana Jones

>>4208833

>Seek out the Archeologist. Speaking to an academic colleague might be refreshing.

I agree its always good to know Indie

>>4208846
>>4208864

Wandering the city outskirts for a while, you do end up at a sizable compound, a billboard rigged out front: “Dig-for-Hire - Excavation, Restoration, Preservation.” Part parking lot for various specialized vehicles and equipment, part workshop, part private estate, a few workers mills about, maintaining equipment and carrying dusty crates between trucks and the restoration workshop. You make yourself known, state your intended business with the man himself and are promptly lead through the lot to the home overseeing it all. Left to wait in the entrance area of an elaborate building plan with several floors, rooms shooting off in all directions, and glass showcases everywhere, you can’t help but admire the extensive collection put on display. Everything from rotten books, broken vases, corroded pieces of armor plates, and technology long-defunct has been painstakingly cleaned, prepared, cataloged and locked away.

“Fascinated by the small selection of what can be found out in the desert?”, a voice asks from behind you, as someone walks down the stairs. When you turn to look, you are greeted by a greying man with a firm handshake, clothed in tailor-made suit and shoes. Not quite what you had expected from an archeologist, but definitely fitting the stereotype of the collector. He invites you into a small lounge adjacent to the entrance hall, where you two sit down, tea arriving shortly after via a young maid. You take the opportunity to introduce yourself as a researcher currently working together with the Young Archivist, on a project that could use his expertise. This piques the Archeologist’s interest. “I have dealt with the previous Archivist on occasion. I was wondering when the archives would spit out something they wouldn’t be able to handle alone.”, he muses while sampling the tea, looking rather satisfied with the brew, “Well - How can I be of service?”

>Shoot straight, ask him if he knows of a Sir H. N.
>Meander around the topic a bit, ask him of any fellow scholars he knows who have written about stories.
>Ask him what he can tell you about stories and their significance in Nowhere.
>(Write-in)

>>4208983
>Ask him what he can tell you about stories and their significance in Nowhere.
Then
>Shoot straight, ask him if he knows of a Sir H. N.

>Ask if he has any cool hats in his collection.

>>4209087
Support

>>4209087
+1

>>4209087
>>4209453
>>4209806

“First of all, I should explain, not all Stories are created equal. Everyone has a yarn or two to spin, but only some stories that come to be in special places are valuable. These stories hold a certain power - the uninitiated might not feel it, but stories have the power to alter reality itself.” A dramatic pause follows, but you feel more confused than before. “See, a handful of groups have preserved ancient knowledge that allows them to tap into these power reserves. The Monks, for example, are able to channel the power of a story into the human body, enhancing it with various benefits.” Intrigued, you then deduce that these stories, therefore, hold a value to rival that of Empire Coinage, as an example. The Archeologist nods, stating that the Middle’s bazar deals mostly in stories.

>On stories: Rewards for overcoming uncertain odds, solving problems, completing tasks, and much more, stories can be used to buy items, tune vehicles, and are the currency used to level up the character at the Temple in the middle. Stories may also have other applications.

You let his explanation settle in for the moment it takes you to empty your cup and refuse a refill - It is time to talk business. When you ask the Archeologist about the initials, he freezes for a moment. “To answer your question: No - At least not any more than you do, I suspect.”, he hides his grin in his teacup before putting it aside, “I know not the man - but I know of him. You see, one of my private expeditions may have yielded a very mysterious artifact, marked with the same initials. I have tried to find out anything about them, but I fear I’m better at digging up things out of the sand than mountains of textbooks and documents.” Rubbing his chin, he muses how he is somewhat attached to his collection. “Took a lifetime to collect them all, and this piece, in particular, has captured my curiosity for some time.”, the archivist smirks and leans towards you, “What can you offer me, that I let you… borrow this precious thing?”

>Convince him to let you see the artifact first. [Slyness: 0]
>Convince him to hand it over - In the pursuit of Science! [Deed: Researcher, Slyness: 0]
>Offer to replace this artifact with another.
>Offer to share your knowledge with him in exchange.
>You’ll have to get back to him with an offer - You’d rather follow another lead for now. [Choose who to visit: The Mechanist, The Monks or the Diplomat]
>Write-in.
Mulling over what you just heard, you ask if he has any cool hats in his collection. “Depends - ”, he responds, “Do you trade in Refined or Keys? I have this very rare and awesome looking Strange in my collection...”

>>4210857
>Offer to replace this artifact with another.
Tell him about our sickness and what it does, don’t tell him any forbidden knowledge however.

>hats
We are going to need to find some metal then come back

>>4210988
You explain your need for his help to him, describe the symptoms, as the Archeologist listens closely. Once you finish, he correctly deduces the diagnosis: Rune-Plague. “You don’t think, this artifact has something to do with this sickness?”, he seems slightly concerned. You neither confirm nor deny the connection you have already discovered, stating that both you and the Archivist have just begun your research into the mysterious Sir H. N. You thus tell him, that acquiring the artifact would help you greatly in your efforts, and would be glad to replace it. The Archeologist accepts the offer. “Very well - I do have something in mind, however.” He gets out of his armchair and walks over to a window. You wonder if the melodramatic stare out of it is intended.

“I recently lost a shipment of excavated objects from my most recent dig out in the desert. No, you don’t have to go out. I’m rather sure of a group of people that might have taken it.” He scowls. “The brutes of the empire. They might play nice on the surface, but somethings brewing in that embassy. I’m telling you, they still hold a grudge that I up and went to make my own fortune out here.” There’s some doubt in your mind that an empire official would have such a long leash to mess with an old Archeologist, but you still ask him what he wants you to do about it all. “Ask around. See if anyone knows anything. Even better, find proof that they have my belongings. That way I can lay claim, and the monks might stay out of my way while I get my things back.”

The greying man clenches a fist and mumbles something under his breath. A part of you wants to ask him if he ever thought about going into the theatre business - Still, you tell him that you will see what you can do about it, making no promises. It seems the Embassy has its fingers in more pies than you initially thought. In any case, you can feel that you are slowly overstaying your welcome as the Archeologist steeps in his anger.

>Resolutions to his problems can wait. Visit another lead first! [Choose the Mechanist, the Monks or the Diplomat]
>Wander the town, looking for ways to catch some rumors pertaining to the stolen shipment of artifacts. [Slyness: 0]
>Exit the premise, but not without making a few detours. You will get that artifact but through more nefarious means… [Secrecy: 0]
>(Write in)

>>4212837
>Wander the town, looking for ways to catch some rumors pertaining to the stolen shipment of artifacts. [Slyness: 0]

>>4212837
>Wander the town, looking for ways to catch some rumors pertaining to the stolen shipment of artifacts. [Slyness: 0]
Lets go help indie!

Rolled 4, 2 = 6 (2d6)

>>4213084
>>4213100

Locked in, rolling now!

Op here phone-posting. Curse hasn't gotten me ywt, today was extra busy tho. Expect today's update tomorrow in addition to your regularly scheduled update! Have a nice Friday eve!

>>4213084
>>4213100


Having left the Archeologists compound behind, you set out to gather rumors regarding the whereabouts of the stolen shipment. First, you spend some time diving in between the many merchant stalls and shop fronts of the Bazar. With some spare imperial change in hand, you strike up a few conversations with the owners as you haggle over prices, talk to other travelers and caravaneers and even get one of the guard-monks in colorful robes to lose a few words to you. Yet, there’s little actionable information.

A traveler had seen a contingent of imperial troops from the expedition corps patrolling the desert. A merchant relayed a rumor that the Embassy had found a cache of archeo-tech out in the dunes and were looking for a dig-team to haul it back, the contact is not public, however. You doubt the empire could keep such a windfall of technology secret, as such you take the merchants word with a grain of salt. Lastly, the monk only stated that empire troops guarding the Embassy have been tenser than they usually are - not that the two groups are on good terms otherwise, he bases his observation on the “general unrest of the aether”.

Slightly exhausted from talking to all these strangers, you take a break. Sat on a bench overlooking the oasis, you wonder why gathering information from people is so much more tiring than scouring books and documents. If only people could be more like books…
As the sun slowly begins to decent, you watch the ripples on the waters surface glitter in the distance. You deliberate over your next move before the day is over.

>Visit another associate of the Archivist. [Choose the Mechanist, the Monks or the Diplomat]
>Return to the Archivist - maybe he can help, but at the very least you could check in on his progress.
>Return to the Archeologist and lie about having found a lead.
>(Write-in)

>>4216585
>Visit another associate of the Archivist. [Mechanist]

Also OP what is the tech level in this setting?

>>4219347

The mechanist’s workshop is comparatively easy to find. Dropping the name causes immediate recognition with most travelers, and you understand why: The workshop is made up of multiple conjoined buildings, like an organic growth sprawling outwards. Even this late in the day, rows of vehicles stand in wide-open halls, mechanics crawl all over the space, sparks fly, it reeks of oil. You admire the works of art these reclaimed technologies are, everything can be found here, from small and speedy sand buggies to trucks running on tank treads, even a bipedal walker is currently being stripped of its charred armor.

Soon, one of the mechanics takes notice of the out-of-place looking researcher. Wiping away the oil stains on his hands, he asks you for a lot number - After a short moment of confusion and some chuckles, you make clear you are here to see the Mechanist, sent by the Young Archivist. The mechanic disappears for a moment, before leading you through the workshop out to the back. Here, up a staircase above the working floor, hidden behind sliding doors and bead curtains, a small, warmly lit workshop emerges. The mechanic excuses himself and leaves you alone to venture further into the room.

“Please, make yourself comfortable.”, a smooth voice originates from one of the well-organized workbenches, “I will be with you in a moment.” An arm protruding from layers of fabric, pointing towards the other end of the room. Flashes of light illuminate the hunched-over person, casting a silhouette towards you. Turning your head, you see mountains of pillows, surrounding an elaborately engraved table. The smell of fresh tea cuts through the oily backdrop. You take your time making your way over, inspecting the complex mechanisms on display: The inner workings of arms and legs, hydraulic jaws, and complex mechanisms sticking out of a metal hand. Beyond the worktables, various oddities are displayed on shelves. A box, decorated with gears, letters, number, weird shapes of crystal, old books, broken mechanisms, some more common artifacts of eras past.

>1/2

Finally, you let yourself fall into a heap of cushions, adjusting yourself as your host approaches you. Immediately, the feeling of something being not quite right overcomes you, you begin your trip through the uncanny valley: Your host, the Silent Mechanist, is a tall, skinny and fully devoid of any hair. The skin seems rubbery, yet not unlike human skin. As if someone was wearing it like a jumpsuit. And then, there are the tattoos. Black ink snakes its way over her face, down her neck, winding around her forearms and hands. Your trained eye decyphers stories, memories, detailing lives long past - You wonder who’s memories they are if they are real.

The Silent Mechanist pulls a thick electrical cord behind her, adjusting it away before sitting down across from you. “So, the Young Archivist sent you?”, she smiles gently as the hands you a cup of tea, “How is he? Still couped up?” A slight chuckle escapes her.

>Get down to business, ask her if she has heard of a Sir H.N.
>Engage in some social small talk, but try to hear if she knows anything about the Greying Archeologist and his missing shipment.
>Ask her about the tattoos - What are their purpose? Whose memories are you reading?
>Ask how she knows the Archivist - He doesn’t seem like the adventuring type.
>(Write-In)

>>4219347
>Also OP what is the tech level in this setting?
We are in a sort of post-post-apocalypse. Before us, highly advanced technology had been the norm, but due to events no longer in common memory, it has faded. What’s left are ruins, buried technology, vehicles rusting in the rain, weapons of war rotting, poisoning the land, and caches of information, hidden away. Humanity has recovered to some extent, but much of the former knowledge is lost to time. Not all can be replicated, but much can be understood and operated - Imagine the love-child of Fallout and Mad Max.

>>4220015
>Engage in some social small talk, but try to hear if she knows anything about the Greying Archeologist and his missing shipment.
Then
>Get down to business, ask her if she has heard of a Sir H.N.

>>4220071
The two of you get comfortable and start exchanging the newest gossip. The Silent Mechanist seems rather forthcoming with her information while you regurgitate the latest rumors you had picked up earlier - you wonder if she’s this open with most people, or if mentioning the Young Archivist had changed her attitude towards you even before you met proper. In any case, you manage to extract a small wealth of information about incidents possibly related to the missing shipment.

For one, there seems to be a band of marauders carrying out surgical strikes on various transports and caravans on routes known to carry artifacts. Your host complains about several shipments of rare spare parts salvaged out in the desert having been stolen - and soon resurfaced on the Bazar via different merchants and caravans, even some more unsavory characters. “The monks have helped me a lot with retrieving my stolen goods.”, she grins, “It helps to be on their good side. Though, they weren’t able to catch the culprits thus far. I bet, they aren’t the brains of this operation.”

Adding to that topic, you muse about how the increased empire contingents seem to do very little to dissuade the marauders, to which the Mechanic only chuckles: “They sure try tho - Have you seen the walker when you came in?” It’s a vivid memory, you recall the charred armor plates being stripped of the hunk of metal. “Yeah, that’s the one. The imperial officials aren’t the chatty types, but that walker was in a battle rather recently. If you were to ask me, I’d bet my stories on it having a run-in with that band of thieves - With the recent rise in imperial archeological missions.” To you, that begs one question: Why would the Embassy divert such expensive resources like a walker for a mere troop of artifact-stealing marauders? Unless they took something that used to be in imperial possession...

>1/2

In any case, you change the topic: After all, even tho you enjoy chatting, you are here for a reason. Eager to hear what the Archivist would want from her, you ask her for any information she might have on Sir H.N., explaining that the two of you are currently tied up in a research project about this mysterious figure. The Mechanist perks up at the mention of the initials.

“You might be in luck!”, her brilliant grin lighten up the room, as she gets up to grab the small box off the shelf. Covered in letters, numbers, cogs, and dials, she hands you the enticing contraption. “I traded for it some time ago but never figured out how to open it. Turn it on its side -” You do as instructed, the letters there spell out “SIRHN”. “I always wondered what was inside, so it had to be protected by such a complex lock. There aren’t many that know how to make such a thing and even less who know how to open it.“

Handing back the heavy metal box, you ask if she would be willing to part with it. “Oh, I don’t think so - IT cost me a hefty sum. Don’t you think that would entitle me to know what is inside?”, her smile is playful, but she won’t budge. “Look, either we play with open cards, you accept that the box and I are a double package and I tell you where we might find answers, or, I tell you, and you leave the both of us here. Don’t worry, I won’t just disappear. But either way, I will find out what is in there.”

>Accept her proposal. The more, the merrier.
>Accept, but you won’t be taking her, or the box. You don’t run a tourist tour around Nowhere.
>Decline. You will find another way.
>Propose a different bargain altogether (Write-In)

>>4220420
>Accept her proposal. The more, the merrier.

>>4220423
“Good choice!”, the two of you shake hands on it, ”I will need to prepare a few things before I can head out - And you probably need a ride too, huh?” You narrow your eyes, expecting to be handed a more than crappy deal, but the mechanist seems rather amused. “Don’t worry, I wasn’t going to be all dead weight. I’ll have something ready by tomorrow. Meet me at the Archivist once you want to get going. I’ll be waiting, catching up with my old friend.” Relieved, you agree to meet up once you are done. The two of you finish your cups and then part ways for today. As you appear from the workshop, the sun is already casting its last orange waves into the darkening sky. Electric street lights glow along your way down to the oasis, where you follow the crowds of travelers and workers into the rows of taverns.

In the end, you find your way into “The Waterhole”, a tavern rather popular with other travelers that seek a place to stay for the night. Leaving your last coins with the owner, you rent out a bed, get a drink, and a hearty supper. As you eat and drink, you listen to the other patrons’ talk and gossip - one, in particular, catches your interest. A glum man with a large which patch over one of the shoulder - you speculate on it being some wound from a recent battle - complains how his boss ripped him a new one, over a shipment they lost right after recovering it. Even after he took one for the team in the assault on their convoy. Another interested customer asks what would be so valuable to take a bullet for, however, the man gives no straight answer: Some nick-nacks from the desert, he claims. Neither the other person nor you are convinced, but he doesn’t dwell on it any further. You make a mental note of this, before you retire for the day.

The next day comes quick and early, the sun found it’s way past the curtains into your room and shines in your face until you wake. Your head hurts, you try t blink away the after-image, but every time you close your eyes, the runes flash before them. After calming the fire at the back of your brain for a few minutes, your dress and get going. Carpe Diem, or something - Thus you weigh what to do with your morning as you stroll around the cool blue.

>Visit another associate of the Archivist. [Choose the Monks or the Diplomat]
>Return to the Archivist - The Mechanist will be waiting there as well.
>Get back to the Archeologist, even tho you have no concrete proof.
>(Write-In)

>>4222417
>Return to the Archivist - The Mechanist will be waiting there as well

>>4222417
>Return to the Archivist - The Mechanist will be waiting there as well

>>4224177
>>4224583

A certain wanderlust fills your heart as you make your way towards the Archivist’s Spire. As expected, you don’t seem to be the only visitor today: an armored dune buggy is parked in front of the heavy wooden doors. You are pretty sure the gunner’s nest that is replacing the passenger seat is not up to code - if something like that even exists out here. Pushing past the doors, you aren’t greeted by the usual silence. The air is filled with chatter, the Mechanist sits on one of the reading tables, the Archivist has stopped his work that still sits in organized piles around him.

“Ah, there is our new friend!”, the Mechanist exclaims once she notices you. In preparation for today, she traded her robes for a suit of combat armor. Was that really necessary? Where does she want you to go? You greet the two of them and inquire after the Archivist’s progress with the book. “It’s slow work.”, he confesses, pulling the book up, now having gained many new pages of notations laid into it. “Bruteforcing the code hasn’t resulted in much thus far. I’m looking forward to you bringing in new clues tho!”

“Maybe we return with new ones!”, the Mechanist whistles, “Or at least a new story to tell, or two.” You inquire where she wants to go anyway - Nowhere is big and mostly nothing but hot sand, after all. She has you follow over to the bulletin board, where she points out a particular report: The City of Rover. “The best and brightest when it comes to machines and technology reside there. They hold very old knowledge about the stuff that you can dig out of the sand everywhere. After all, their mobile city is practically one of those artifacts.” You take the report from her. The city seems to be constantly on the move, driving from waterhole to waterhole. And how are you supposed to find a city that never stays in the same place? The Mechanist gives you a slightly condescending smile: “You can hear it move when it is quiet. Just follow your ears. Besides, you can see it shine on the horizon, just like the Middle. So, are we ready to move out?” She seems very eager to get on the road…

>Have a look at the bulletin board, maybe there’s another place you want to stop by.
>You have some more business with the Archivist. (Write-in)
>Before you leave, you’d want to meet another of your current leads. [Choose the Monks or the Diplomat]
>There’S something else you want to take care of first. (Write-in)

>>4225979
>Have a look at the bulletin board, maybe there’s another place you want to stop by.

>>4226088
With the report of Rover still in hand, you turn your attention towards the packed board: The Archivist meticulously gathers reports, rumors, and tasks from around the Middle and posts them here. Shuffling through the papers, you find a few interesting tidbits.

>On the bulletin board: Here the Archivist lists out new destinations for you to explore as well as tasks from the city folk that needs taking care of. If you ever need a new pointer towards your next goal, looking here might be a good idea.

>Locations
You read an in-depth report of a place that sounds as if it was stripped from the pages of a penny-dreadful. Apparently, the dead walk the, uhm, sands again, you suppose. In the time this has happened, a previously deserted town has been repopulated by the living dead. YOu ask the Mechanist if this is true. “One day, the salt lake in Memory Point dried out, that’s when the Undead started to roam the desert. And now people dig up the leftover salt of the lake - Sorrowsalt, they call it - in search of the real treasure. Somewhere, buried beneath the salt, a motherlode of memories is waiting for the lucky soul to unearth them.” While you have heard of Sorrowsalt and its application in the avant-garde cuisine, you deem the existence of memories that can be plucked from the earth as doubtful. Just like dead returning from the beyond.

Another report catches your eye, however. Some scouts have discovered an archeological dig operation out in the desert, orchestrated by the Embassy. The empire always had a vested interest in the buried secrets that slumber beneath the hot sands and dried-out earth. Yet, the report details a large number of soldiers and well-equipped escorts for any transports that come and leave. You wonder what made them this cautious of an attack - did they find something dangerous?

>Rumors
With the help of the Archivist, you add the rumors you picked up on with already cataloged ones to paint an even more complete picture: A band of marauders is targeting convoys transporting rare salvage and artifacts gathered by scavengers and ruin-runners alike. However, while you suspected this to be a rather small band, the evidence collected by the Archivist shows the contrary. This racket seems rather well organized, with informants pointing out targets and fences turning the goods into profit on the local Bazar. Only recently have the monks started to crack down on vendors of stolen goods.

You make mental notes of all interesting posts to the board before you decide on your next step.

>Before you leave, you’d want to meet another of your current leads. [Choose the Monks or the Diplomat]
>Time to head out. Give the Mechanist the go-ahead and strap in for the ride. [Choose a destination: The City of Rover, Memory Point or The Imperial Archeological Dig]
>Before you do anything else, you got something to take care of. (Write-in)

>>4226609
>Time to head out. Give the Mechanist the go-ahead and strap in for the ride. [Choose a destination: The City of Rover]

>>4226609
>Time to head out. Give the Mechanist the go-ahead and strap in for the ride. [Choose a destination: The Imperial Archeological Dig]

>>4227267
>>4227321

Looks like we got a tie - I'll return in about an hour, should the tie not resolve itself, I'll break it then.

Rolled 2 (1d2)

Tiebreaking!

>>4227267
>>4227321

You give the Mechanist the signal that you are ready to go, however, you will be making a detour: To the Imperial Archeological Dig that was recently spotted out in the desert. “Sure thing, I don’t mind a detour. Jump in and let’s go!” You wish the Archivist well as the two of you exit the Spire and climb into the buggy. A certain sense of regret overcomes you once you are secure in the gunners’ seat, as the Mechanist revs up the engines. Whipping past the Gates, your driver cheers as you plunge into the desert.
Next time, you’ll drive.


The drive out to the dig site takes you a good half-day of meandering around the dunes, scouting out your route from vantage points, and taking the occasional break. As the sun beings its afternoon descent, your buggy comes to a halt on top of a dune. In the quiet breeze, you hear sandthrowers, stone breaking, and people shouting at each other - Nestled in a valley of dunes, the dig site has uncovered a small stone structure, a dozen tents dotting the surroundings. The Mechanist sits down next to you, handing you a binocular: “Look, troops everywhere.” You take a look yourself. Patrols of two walk the perimeter, two guards sit in makeshift lookout towers and who-knows-how-many civilians run around, clearing the ruins. “So...”, your companion breaks the silence, “What’s the plan of approach?”

>Walk in the front, under the guise of being officials sent by the Embassy. After all, you still are an imperial researcher. [Deed: Researcher]
>Wait for an opportunity to take out a patrol, you’ll walk amongst them as equals when you are disguised as them.[Vigor/Secrecy: 0]
>Wait for nightfall and sneak in. Let’s see how well these guards can see in the pitch black. [Secrecy:0 + Weird:1]
>(Write-In)

>>4227743
>Walk in the front, under the guise of being officials sent by the Embassy. After all, you still are an imperial researcher. [Deed: Researcher]

>>4227743
>>Walk in the front, under the guise of being officials sent by the Embassy. After all, you still are an imperial researcher. [Deed: Researcher]

>>4227755
>>4228055
Tho the Mechanist has her doubts at first, you reassure her that this hasn’t been the first time you weasel your way into places you aren’t supposed to be with your credentials. Quickly, you jump back into the buggy and roll down the dune towards the entrance checkpoint. The entrance guard, while inquisitive, quickly falters when you press him - Of course, the two of you were sent by the Embassy to help the excavation. Of course, he wouldn’t have gotten word beforehand, you were just assigned to this dig. You even throw in the name of the Diplomat - Just because you have never met the guy, doesn’t mean he can’t be useful now. Convinced by your act, the guard hands the two of you badges, lets you park the buggy in one of the tents, and points out the different parts of the operation: The Overseers tent, where the dig is being coordinated from. The Restauration tent, where the artifacts are being assessed, cleaned, repaired, and prepped for shipping. The Storage tents and barracks, where crates, vehicles, and working bodies are stored, and of course the entrance to the ruins themselves - rather self-explanatory that one.

As you walk between the groups of workers shoveling sand, setting up conveyors and carrying crates between the entrance to the ruins and the different tents, the Mechanist quietly airs her surprise. “I never would have guessed you’d have that in you! So, what’s the game plan here?” Good question.

Now that you are in and have credentials, no one will look twice as long as you don’t cause too much of a ruckus, you’d guess. You could just head for the ruins themselves, see what’s down there, what could be so important. You could head for the barracks, mingle with the other workers, see what’s up with all the security around. Of course, you could stroll by the Restauration camp, maybe the archeologists there will have something interesting to say or see. There’s the Overseer’s tent, should you want to have a word with those in charge - why would you tho? And lastly, the storage tents. You’re not thinking of stealing something, are you? That would be a rather bold thing to do, in broad daylight no less...

>Head for the entrance to the ruins, take a look at what lies beneath the sands.
>The barrack it is - Let’s see what the locals have to say about this operation.
>Visit the Restauration tent, the archeologists are probably happy to tell and show you a thing or two.
>The Overseer’s tent. Tho, you don’t really have anything to report. Well, besides two intruders who just recently strolled i- oh. That’s you. Nevermind.
>The Storage tents. It’s all there, gift-wrapped and on a silver platter. You’d just have to get it all past the guard post….
>(Write-in)

>>4229940
>Visit the Restauration tent, the archeologists are probably happy to tell and show you a thing or two.
Lets do this and learn what the ruins are then
>Head for the entrance to the ruins, take a look at what lies beneath the sands.

>>4229973
Your companion and you walk up to the Restauration tent, flash your badges to the guard posted out front, and enter. The air is a little stale inside, as a dozen people chisel, brush, wipe and polish what the excavation teams have brought up to them before cataloging their finds and packing everything into wooden crates. To your surprise, none of the objects here seem awfully technological: Pieces of pottery, stone tablets, metal sheets with winding engravings, even a few swords, daggers, and spears are currently being worked on. As such, you introduce yourself to one of the archeologists as the new Researcher, who wanted to check in what they were dealing with before heading in yourself. He seems very eager to tell you all about the recent finds at this dig site as he shows you around the tent.

“We believe we are dealing with an early Second Era burial cache thus far: There are many pieces with some sort of writing, some seem more ornate than others, especially the writing on metal objects.” You ask if they have translated any of it, but the archeologist simply shakes their head. “Too dangerous.”, they claim, “Without an Alchemist around, we aren’t allowed to. We simply make sure everything will survive the trip through the desert.” Damn censorship - On the other hand, probably for the best. You have experienced first hand what a written word this old can do to the mind.

Before you head out and leave the busy archeologists to their work, you ask if they have any inkling of an idea what else might be down there. “If it is in fact a burial cache, then there should be a main chamber for the bodies. Thus far we have only gained access to smaller chambers with all these artifacts in them. On the other hand, if this is not as old as we assumed, then there might be a technological component we haven’t discovered yet. In the Late Era, it was all the rage to combine the technology of the time with ancient culture and aesthetics to create a very unique blend.”

>[1/2]

You’ve heard enough. Collecting your companion who’s still in awe at the rather impressive metalwork of ages past, the two of you leave the tent behind and head for the entrance of the ruins. Artificial walls have been erected to stop the sand from sliding back into the dug out pit. Sandthrowers pump the granular evil through complex contraptions out into a condensed stream of high-pressured air and sand, shooting it over the walls onto artificial dunes. Stone pillars frame the small entrance. The stone plate that once sealed this structure had been smashed to pieces, the rubble neatly collected in a pile next to it.

Beyond the entrance, a long hall with faded paintings on the walls lies. Small corridors shoot off from it, most of the sand that has found its way inside has been removed. Teams of workers patch leaks in the sealing, catalog the paintings, move age-old stones broken out of walls around and carefully handle objects that emerge from the piles of sand. A the end of the Hall, a set of stairs leads further below. Looking down, you feel a little confused: The stairs dead-end into a brick wall, which has had some of the bricks shattered and removed, only revealing more bricks.

“What an impressive structure...”, the Mechanist muses as she catches up with you, “Do you think we could find something down here?” Something at the back of your skull agrees with the adventurous sentiment. You feel tingly, slightly light-headed. There’s something about this place, something not quite right.

>Investigate the wall paintings, see what clues you can find. [Vigilance: 1]
>Take up a hammer. This wall will not stand in your way! [Vigor: 0]
>Your fingertips itch. Your skin crawls. You don’t know what’s up with that wall, but a part of you does. The flames lick at your consciousness, they show you, if you let them. [Weird: 1]
>Theres something else you want to try… (Write-In)

A quick announcement: OP is moving the coming week, which means no internet for a couple of days until my isp connects me up. The means that, should the thread bump off before my move, I wont make a new thread until I'm back online. Otherwise i'll archive this thing by tuesday eve and call it a day for thread one. I hope you had fun reading thus far!

>>4234335
>Investigate the wall paintings, see what clues you can find. [Vigilance: 1]

>>4234337
Stay safe qm

>>4234335
>Investigate the wall paintings, see what clues you can find. [Vigilance: 1]

Op phoneposting here, had to disassemble my battlestation earlier than anticipated, so no post untill I get my internet back. Gonna archive this thing now, thanks for sticking around!

Thread archived! http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/4202441/

See you all in a couple of days, stay safe, and don't wander too deep into your local archive!