YOU – “…Okay, I’ve got a plan.”
NARRATOR – You turn to your cybernetic assistant, finding it waiting expectantly for your command.
YOU – “Hey D30, would you be able to safely climb up to wherever the rope’s tied to? From there I think you could sort of drag the whole thing over here, then drop it down on the platform.”
NARRATOR – Something within the android churns for a half-second, then it shakes its head, looking down towards the floor. It almost appears to be disappointed. “Negative. Apologies, Detective. Such a maneuver would be quite hazardous, notwithstanding of my capabilities.” It looks up. “Do you wish for me to perform the maneuver regardless?”
RHETORIC – I wouldn’t suggest risking the android in such a manner. It seems unwise.
SAVOIR FAIRE – One mistake could mean its destruction.
SUGGESTION – And D30 is currently your only ally. You are lost, confused, a complete amnesiac, and trapped in circumstances far beyond your comprehension. Not to mention it seems that everyone else here hates you. In other words, you need all the allies you can get.
SAVOIR FAIRE – Besides, you could make that climb yourself – easily.
VOLITION – Wait, what? Are you being serious? He’s had the coordinational skills of an alcoholic infant since he woke up.
PERCEPTION – Even now the ground seems to slightly shift beneath your feet… you feel nauseous.
VOLITION – And need I remind you of those random seizures we’ve been experiencing? You said it five seconds ago; one trip or stumble in these wilds entails a brutal and messy death. He is absolutely not going to climb anything.
SAVOIR FAIRE – Then who would? The Bartender? D30? Would you expect a walking hunk of metal to be able to climb a tree with any proficiency? The branches would splinter and snap under such weight.
RHETORIC – Actually, The Bartender grew up here, so it wouldn’t be too far-fetched to say that he might have experience traversing the local ‘terrain’. He would be, at the very least, better than us. It’s worth asking.
INTERFACING – And this jungle is likely a haven to all sorts of outlaws, so D30 was probably designed with climbing in mind. Maybe it even has-
REACTION SPEED – Hey! We don’t have time for any drawn-out discussions of ‘design’ and ‘growing up’. That corpse’s neck is going to snap in a few minutes, an hour at most, and we need to do something about it now!
NARRATOR – You look up at the hanging cadaver, finding your eyes drawn up along the length of the noose into the canopy above. A thicket of leaves, shimmering in the blue radiance, cuts off your view of the rope’s true reaches, but even then what you see stretches for a half-dozen meters.
SAVOIR FAIRE – You could totally do it.
YOU – “I could totally do it…”
NARRATOR – D30 buzzes. “Noted, Detective.”
NARRATOR – The Bartender, however, gives you a dubious glance from the side of his eye before turning his gaze back at the corpse, and then the clouds so far below. “Are you sure about that, Detective? You… haven’t exactly been very stable lately. And that’s on solid ground.”
VOLITION – He has good points!
RHETORIC – Seconded.
PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT – Do you so easily doubt our physical capability?
VOLITION – Yes. Very much yes…
INLAND EMPIRE – I’d rate us a ‘two’ at most in the physical department.
YOU – Whatever, it doesn’t matter. We have to get the corpse now, and I’m the only one who can do it.
RHETORIC – Could we at least put it to a vote?
AUTHORITY – This isn’t a democracy, worm. It’s a dictatorship.
NARRATOR – With a deep breath, you make your decision, as Dictant de lak Menterre.
YOU – “I’m doing it myself. I’ll make the climb.”
NARRATOR – Your guide says nothing, but nods with fidgeting hands.
EMPATHY – He is afraid you will die.
NARRATOR – The though gives you pause.
EMPATHY (SKILL CHECK ?????) – If you were to die, then he could be held responsible. The next Detective they send is also not likely to be as…‘free spirited’ as you are.
NARRATOR – You briefly ponder over the thought, then shake your head free of it and focus back on the matter at hand. Looking around the platform, trying to find anything to use as a steppingstone to begin your climb.
SAVOIR FAIRE – Hm, nothing here seems very sturdy, and you can’t see any clear route to the corpse. Maybe look elsewhere?
RHETORIC (SKILL CHECK 5/4: AUTO PASSED) – Look, if you’re really planning on doing this, then you should at least ask The Bartender if he could find some climbing route for you to take up to the rope. Again, he grew up here. He might know how to get around in the jungle.
VOLITION – What kind of parent would allow their children out into an environment like this, much less allow them to freeclimb?
ELECTROCHEMISTRY – What kind of child – not to mention teenager – wouldn’t try climbing around here? For little snots like that, adrenaline is usually the hardest stuff they can get their hands on. A truly disheartening reality…
NARRATOR – Nodding as you mull over your internal conversation, you turn to The Bartender.
YOU – “You wouldn’t happen to be familiar with freeclimbing around here, would you?”
NARRATOR – The man stares at you, contemplating the various choices he could take, and the potential consequences to each, before reluctantly nodding. “Yeah. I am.”
YOU – “Good. So, do you see any way for me to climb up to the victim from here? I’m having a bit of trouble deciding on where to start.”
NARRATOR – He briefly glances about the platform, then shakes his head. “No. There isn’t anything sturdy within reach here. I can try to find something, but it would take a few minutes. That fine with you?”
You give a thumbs up, and settle down atop a washing machine as The Bartender runs off.
NARRATOR – Ten minutes later-
YOU – Didn’t we already talk about this?
NARRATOR – Ten minutes later, you stand on a treepath some ten meters above the laundry platform. The carved branch continues off into the distance, intersecting with a half-dozen walkways of both organic and metallic nature before stopping abruptly at a wide-open glade on Thespir’s side, but that does not concern you. After a few pleasant minutes nature gazing under the backdrop of a rotting human being, The Bartender came back and guided you here, to what he claims is an ideal starting point for your climb. Looking out from the path, even with your untrained eyes, you cannot help but agree.
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You can clearly see the rope, and the branch it’s tied to, through a continuous window framed by thick, hearty branches and vines which should easily hold your weight. You don’t even need to climb up or down – your destination is roughly level to your current height.
SAVOIR FAIRE – See? And you doubted me. This should be as easy as climbing through a jungle gym.
HALF LIGHT – ‘Should’. ‘Should’.
NARRATOR – You look down past the edge of the tree, seeing a twisted mess of layers and layers of intertwining metal and greenery, like a spider’s web or a pit filled with snakes. At a few angles, you can even catch slight glimpses of the void beneath it all
A fall would be painful.
ENDURANCE – Painful? That would be the least of your problems.
VISUAL CALCULUS – Even assuming that you don’t drop through the overhang and plummet all those kilometers to the ground, falling on one of those trees or walkways would break several bones. Could also rupture a few organs.
SAVOIR FAIRE – Well, it doesn’t matter the height you’re falling from so long as you fall right.
LOGIC – What’s the right way to fall?
SAVOIR FAIRE – Whichever way makes you not die.
VOLITION – …Please don’t do this.
NARRATOR – You take a deep breath, slightly loosening the Hateful Necktie as you turn back to The Bartender and D30 behind you.
SAVOIR FAIRE – You should say something cool.
RHETORIC – It might be your last words, after all.
REACTION SPEED (SKILL CHECK 4/10: 5 = FAILED) – I’ve got it.
YOU – “If I die, tell my wife I love her.”
NARRATOR – There is a silence between you, lasting for several seconds as if they expect you to say more, but then they both nod.
SAVOIR FAIRE – …What was that?! Marriage is not cool.
NARRATOR – Ignoring the slight awkwardness of the moment, you grab ahold of a stout branch, place your foot on another, and begin your ascent.
SAVOIR FAIRE (SKILL CHECK 5/9 (+2 Better position) (-1 You love your wife): 1 = PASSED) – Like I said, child’s play.
NARRATOR – Suddenly, it is as if the last traces of vertigo and confusion flee your body. You reach your hands out across the canopy, gripping onto stout twigs and vines as if your palms were magnetically attracted to them. The foliage, in your mind’s eye, begins to twist and contort itself into a bridge for you to waltz across as if on a simple morning stroll.
AUTHORITY – The plants bend to your will, as all things should.
INLAND EMPIRE – But are they following your command, or you their own?
LOGIC – Most species of flora do not possess the neurological complexity to have willpower, putting aside the fact that the flora currently surrounding you is not actually moving whatsoever.
NARRATOR – As you move through the leafage, a memory strikes you; a tale. From your childhood?
DRAMA – The woodlark clambered through the jungle, looking for a shelter to rest in through the dark night. Eventually it found a mighty kaoka tree, lush and stuffed to the brim with sweet, honeyed nectar. A mighty ant commune lived within its wooden body, kept safe from the predators of the jungle. They cultivated the delicious nectar together, the tree and the ants, in a great kinship, allowing them to live in peace and happiness both.
The woodlark saw this, and felt its stomach filled with nothing but want. It approached the tree and asked to be allowed within his bark, to be kept safe from the predators of the jungle and allowed to sup of the nectar as with the ants. The kaoka looked upon the bird, and began to speak. “But you woodlarks, you eat everything you come across; never leaving leave a scrap for anyone else. If I let you in my bark, you would eat all of our nectar, and my ants would starve. I must protect them.”
The woodlark shook its head, it said it could be trusted, that it would return what it took in food and space a hundred times over. With its size and strength, it said it could do many great things for the ants, things neither they nor the kaoka could do themselves. The kaoka still distrusted the woodlark, but then the ants within him began to cry out. “Let the woodlark in!” “It wants only to help!” “Our lives could be made so much better!”
The woodlark swore that it would respect the ants and the kaoka, and so, with much reluctance, the kaoka allowed it into the commune. Over the next few days, the woodlark settled into his heartwood, nestling near the nectar stores and drinking deeply from them. It did not help the ants xor the kaoka, only taking the fruits of their labors for itself. It grew full, then fat as the ants began to starve. Eventually they fought back, but they were weak from hunger, and their stings weren’t able to pierce the woodlark’s plumage. Finally, when the honey was gone, and the kaoka withered, what remained of the ants were eaten.
The woodlark climbed out of the tree, now dry and dead, and set back out into the dark night.
NARRATOR – Finally, you’ve stepped onto the stout branch bearing the corpse’s noose, gingerly setting yourself down to straddle it with your legs as you shimmy into position. You grasp the knotted rope, already planning out how you’ll untie it, when your gaze turns to the white clouds beneath you.
There is nothing between you and them. Thespir’s chaotic tangle of concrete, steel, and vegetation would not stop you from falling to the mists below if you were to slip here.
A tremor of fear shakes your spine, but you focus on the task at hand. Not how even the slightest vertigo could send you tumbling down.
Your hands crawl over the rope, fingers frantically mapping out its multitude of knots. It is almost like a maze of twined linen fibers. Finding a strategy you think will work, you set out cautiously untying the tangle.
YOU – How was this thing even tied in the first place? Who’d bother going up here just to hang someone?
LOGIC – That… is a very good point.
VISUAL CALCULUS – They must have used a flyer.
YOU – Why?
VISUAL CALCULUS – The only other way would be to climb through the jungle, as you just did, but while also carrying the entire weight of a dead man.
LOGIC – Theoretically possible, but unlikely.
YOU – …If the killer used a flyer to tie the noose up here, then someone must have heard it. The jungle’s too thick for anyone to see from the hotel, but it still should have been loud enough for everyone to hear.
ENCYCLOPEDIA (SKILL CHECK 6/8: 2 = PASSED) – Unless its engines were muffled, though such airships are only used by Detectives and Pelaenco strike teams. Not even the Peomilune has authorization to utilize them.
ESPRIT DE CORPS – They’re great for covert operations and lightning strikes on dissident compounds.
AUTHORITY – However the distinction is largely meaningless; flyers cannot be privately owned. In order to use one, the killer would have to have possessed connections to pilots employed by the Peomilune, Pedef-Thien, or the Ferrymen.
SHIVERS – And while on the subject, it is still possible to find an eyewitness. There are many who live even on the outskirts of Thespir in their ramshackle pressurized habitats, harvesting fruit and various narcotics.
YOU – Huh. Is someone noting all this down?
NARRATOR – Suddenly, you feel the rope tug hard at your hands, having untied enough of the mess for it to unravel upon itself. You now feel the dead weight of a grown man’s corpse slipping through your tight grip. The weight slams you against the branch, and you feel your palms burn as the coarse fibers rake your skin.
-1 HEALTH
PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT (SKILL CHECK 3/5: 3 = PASSED) – Come on, pull from your back!
NARRATOR – You struggle against the weight, wiry muscles straining to wrest the rope into a position of leverage. Slowly, but surely, you pull your hands to your chest as you lean back against your perch, curling the rope around one of your legs to share some of the load.
You have control, again. But you need to hurry.
As fast as you can, you shuffle awkwardly backwards upon the branch, repeatedly flexing your shoulder blades against the oak to inch about until you are certain you’ve brought the corpse in far enough. Then, you let go.
Thankfully, after a moment of doubt flashing through your mind, you hear a faint wet splatting noise beneath you.
VISUAL CALCULUS – You can picture the mess it’s made down there with eerily vivid clarity.
PERCEPTION – The distinct sound of semi-liquid, insect-ridden flesh slapping against hard wood is not something you have ever heard before.
CONCEPTUALIZATION – But you will never forget it.
NARRATOR – Breathing a sigh of relief, you raise a hand to your eyes, seeing bright-red marks where it wherever it ground against the rope. They burn like millions of microscopic cuts, smaller than the eye can see. It certainly did not help that the plant-derived strands felt rough to begin with.
INTERFACING – Thinking on it, the noose’s make is rather odd. Most tethers and cords throughout Thespir are made out of nanocarbons. That was linen burning your skin off. Very much a novelty item.
REACTION SPEED – Usually sold out of snobby little Genikan corner stores alongside obscure coffee grounds and esoteric trinkets meant to ward off gnomes.
YOU – Seriously, is anyone noting this stuff down?
ENCYCLOPEDIA – The killer needed a flyer to hang the corpse, he has connections with pilots, and he probably bought the rope from some miscellaneous goods shop higher in Thespir.
YOU – Good, keep it up.
NARRATOR – Now, it’s onto the autopsy.
ENDURANCE (SKILL CHECK 2/10: 5 = FAILED) – This isn’t going to be pleasant…
NARRATOR – Cautiously, you climb to your feet and begin the descent.
Please check out the subreddit for discussions on the story of Techno Elysium.
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HEALTH: 14/15
MORALE: 10/10
XP – 0/100
INVENTORY:
HATEFUL NECKTIE – EQUIPPED
It knows.
+1 Half-Light – Menacing aura
+1 Inland Empire – Possibly haunted
-1 Composure – It’s watching you
-------------
STAINED PEDEF-THIEN COAT – EQUIPPED
It’s been through a lot.
+3 Authority – Symbol of protection
-1 Suggestion – Dead hobo vibe
------------------
PLAIN DRESS SHIRT – EQUIPPED
An average dress shirt. It’s probably brand new.
+1 Composure – Feels normal
-1 Conceptualization – Too normal
--------------
SOILED PEDEF-THIEN TROUSERS – EQUIPPED
The yellow stripe makes it seem far more cheerful than it is.
+1 Savoir Faire – Sleek design
-1 Suggestion – Soiled
--------
WORK BOOTS – EQUIPPED
+1 Physical Instrument – Working man
----------
OXYGEN MASK
Allows you to go into areas without oxygen.
-1 Composure – Lingering smell
ATTRIBUTES:
INTELLECT (5):
Your mental abilities.
LOGIC – 5
ENCYCLPEDIA – 6
RHETORIC – 5
DRAMA – 5
CONCEPTUALIZATION – 4 (5 -1)
VISUAL CALCULUS – 3 (5 -2)
PSYCHE – 1
Your emotional abilities.
VOLITION – 1
INLAND EMPIRE – 4 (1 +3)
EMPATHY – 1
AUTHORITY – 5 (1 +3 +1)
ESPIRIT DE CORPS – 1
SUGGESTION – 1 (1 -1 -1)
PHYSICAL – 2
Your physical abilities.
ENDURANCE – 2
PAIN THRESHOLD – 2
PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT – 3 (2 +1)
ELECTROCHEMISTRY – 2
SHIVERS – 2
HALF-LIGHT – 3 (2 +1)
MOTORICS – 4
Your neurological abilities.
HAND/EYE COORDINATION – 4
PERCEPTION – 4
REACTION SPEED – 4
SAVIOR FAIRE – 4 (4 +1 -1)
INTERFACING – 4
COMPOSURE – 5 (4 +1):
THOUGHTS:
INTERNALIZING:
ELYSIAN BLOOD
The symbol emblazoned upon your coat… it is more than a mere insignia. Far more. It is your heart. It is your soul. It is your blood…
COMPLETION TIME: ???
INTERNALIZED:
UNINTERNALIZED:
ELYSIAN BOOTS
Clearly, this world has been graced by Meili in its primordial past. But the Mile-Stepper, as was his nature, did not linger. How then, are you so sure he was here at all? It is simple – he left a gift. Or, possibly, forgot his shoes. These boots, forged by Brokkr and Eitri themselves, are imbued with the power of a million Viking warriors. Power that has been bequeathed on you, by the Norns, for a reason… but what?
TASKS:
- FINISH THOUGHT 'ELYSIAN BLOOD'
- SHOWER
