Oblique Streams

A Tunnels and Trolls® play-by-post adventure run by shindorim7

Chapter 4: Mission Parameters

shindorim7

GM

Grippenweld chuckles at Jax's meaty arms and says, "Well, cream-puff, if you don't volunteer yourselves you can safely assume that you'll be cleaning out toilets in deepest darkest pits of Waloon for a very long time to come," he says, Grandma Withers and the star-men all getting quite a guffaw out of this.

"Anyway, let me explain a little further...." The image of the pig fades away and is replaced with what appears to be a funnel shaped island. There's a mountain range encircling the outer rim with waterfalls. These in turn cascade into rivulets winding through a circular forest to a central pit where they fall to the nozzle of the funnel, wrap themselves around in defiance of gravity, and flow back to the top of the mountains and so on.

"This is what has become known to us as Oblique Streams. A prison dimension. A self-perpetuating engine of karma devised by the MacDullards, a race of mystics hell-bent on the gradual reform of all sentient beings by way of personal enlightenment, and in fact our one declared enemy. They search the universe for scoundrels, cynics and scallywags," he says with an emphatic nod towards Triple M, "abduct them and toss them into this dimensional Moebius strip. Inside there are a multitude of microcosms, woven from the fabric of sins and desires raging throughout the hearts and loins of the inmates themselves. The inmates have an eternity in which to conquer themselves, and thereby 'graduate' to a state of being compatible with the ideals of peace, love, and good citizenship. As I'm sure you can deduce for yourselves, we are not about to make the MacDullard's top one hundred list of candidates for sainthood.

"Grolp, one of our premiere resource scouts, was on a relatively routine mission to the Blinkdown Reservation checking out reports of a kind of indigenous bread which could transform the body's entire nervous system into an erogenous zone. It was supposed to be a secure route, but somehow the 'Dullards broke down our defenses, abducted Grolp, and threw him into the Streams. Bottom line: we need him back. Bottom Line: We can't do it ourselves. That's where you come in.

"The Streams are impenetrable to our agents as it stands. The 'Dullards have captured enough of our employees (read: race) to have constructed a mock-up of our psycho-dimensional profile. They have moulded their pocket reality there in such a way that our presence there as aggressors must needs be an ontological paradox. We simply cannot exist there except as subdued prisoners on the road to reconciliation with Ultimate Truth (spooky echo/reverb effects). With you however, it may be a different story.

"Grandma Withers has been observing your race for a long time now. You're selfish, infantile, petty, greedy, boorish, and completely unrepentant about the fact that you'll do anything for the proverbial buck. On the one hand you might be considered priority targets for the 'Dullard's ambitions. On the other hand, you're so positively inferior to them (and us!) that they'd most likely pass (and most likely have passed) you over as insignificant insects. With imperfect knowledge of your own profiles, you make the perfect dummies.

"The surgery will involve the transplant of a plane-warping gland which will, hopefully, get you inside Oblique Streams. It will trigger again once more when you are in actual physical contact with Grolp and bring you back with him. The gland isn't from our stock per se, so it should go unimpeded through the gate forces of the 'Dullards. Or so we expect. You'll pose as pilgrims, out on the road to reform. Your primitive emotional archetypes should prove your true intentions as difficult to read as the intentions of vegetables.

"Your reward: whatever your heart desires, plebeians. What do you say then ladies and gents?"

jaxdracon

Jax

Jax gets a sinking feeling in his stomach---and no, it's not those poisoned phallic biscuits that Ruth stuffed in his mouth. Their dire situation is excruciatingly evident, even if it makes as much sense as the Death Goddess falling and breaking an osteoporotic hip.

Perhaps presumptively, he wonders how much fun the MacDullards would have computing his "psycho-dimensional profile" whilst poking around the self-conflicting duality that is his brain. Arnn-Gaxx's dying gifts to him were a vorpal blade and mind, but the latter enlightenment also presented him with most un-Orclike feelings that often confused our already uncharacteristically introspective Orc, and sometimes made his actions unpredictable vis-à-vis those of the rest of his race.

At Grippenweld's "cream-puff" insult, Jax felt a feral urge to give the annoying midget some highly unelective surgery with a vorpal scalpel---an act of such Orcish monstrosity that it would have surely drawn rave reviews from Desuma and Domina. But the voice of Arnn-Gaxx bellowed "PATIENCE" from within, as only an aeons-imprisoned king of the elephantine race could. So Jax stood still throughout the remainder of Grippenweld's speech, simmering with white knuckles.

When the man is finally done, Jax spits like the pleb he is. "Grippo, you 'proverbial' pile of baluchithere droppings, it appears you have our balls to the wall. I 'volunteer' under duress. Let the games begin, and may you one day curse yourself for underestimating a Dracon."

gdbackus

Restu

My heart relieved by the fact that my love for Grandma Withers was obviously doomed from the start, given her higher, noble (?) purpose, I turn my thoughts to other matters. "Anything I want as reward...." I came to Khazan to earn enough money to get my family out of the migrating mushroom herding life (a tough life indeed), so I'm sure that a stream of gold would do the trick.

"Grippenweld," I say with an only slightly perceptible adolescent voice-crack, "Grippenweld. Do we get to keep the plane-jumping gland once we return your agent to you?" Surprised with my own voice, I continue, "And what if our one desire is to roast your agent for dinner once we find him?"

I give Shipy a look that should be interpreted (as only a Hobbit can) that we should go do it. There's a big multiverse out there....

eickeric

Michael

"Ha ha!" Laugh and the world laughs with you.

"Hey! Who are you calling a scallywag? I was born in the North!"

I hope none of those blighters ate any of Grolp's erogenous bread.

I'm all for those ideals. (Except for the peace part.)

"Bottom line: by definition there's only one bottom line. And I'm still waiting for the answer to my river of gold question. What kind of penny-ante place do you run here? Judging from the lousy customer service you have, it's likely you're not so big on consideration for others---so why rescue Grolp anyway? What makes Grolp so important? Why not dispatch another employee to the Reservation to check out the bread on a new route? You said it was a pretty routine mission."

Oooo! I keep forgetting to help Taran with that spelling thing. Remind me again later.

"Grolp is the same race as you and Mrs Wipplespoon?"

"Hey! Who are you calling unrepentant? Every day I'm sorry I ever hired Shipppy [sic]."

"Is that a fact? I prefer real ones to proverbial ones 9 times out of 10. Is this river of gold proverbial too?"

"You really don't encourage customer loyalty, do you? Which brings us to another point---your whole corporation, lifestyle, etc. etc. etc., as you've described it is all about doing anything to make money. Sooo,if you ascribe the same desires and goals to us as to yourself, and everything you work for, how does this make you any different from the knucklehead that thinks a Hobbit could lead anything other than a dinner party? We're the same! Kume by ya! (Never was too good at campfire songs...)"

"Hey! Who are you calling an insignificant insect? I'm plenty significant!"

"Hey! Who are you calling a dummy? I'm a trained ventriloquist! Watch this." "Krease krass the kread and 'utter." <smugly> "See?"

"Keen. I'll take two."

"How long does it take to activate? Suppose Orc1 grabs the pig snout---Grolp's snout, I should be specific---while Orc2 is elsewhere. Are all the glands activated, or is Orc2 being left behind? Or is there a certain length of time Orc2 has to also grab the snout before Orc1 and Grolp disappear?"

OOC

No wonder. The Nasdaq has been dropping like... well, it's been dropping.

Michael

"Not me. I'll be an indigenous person."

"Hey! Who are you calling an archetype?"

Carrot juice constitutes murder.
Cole slaw's a fascist regime.
It's time to stop all this gardening.
I've heard the vegetables scream.

I've already got that covered. Obviously, Grandma Whipplespoon didn't tell him about my wishing spell.

"Sure, but only because the island sounds like a nice place. Forget what I said before about us being the same. I just remembered you need us, not the other way around. 'I'm be-t-t-er than yo-o-o-ouuuu!!!!!!!'"

Ooo, good one. I was going to say my one desire was to give Grippy an atomic wedgie.

Psst, Jax, did you see that? Restu is making moon-eyes at Shipy! That's the only possible interpretation!

hobbit_king

Shipy

Listening to all the names Mr. Grippenweld calls us, I point my overly pudgy finger at him and say, "I'll have you know I am not a proverbial. Those other things maybe, but not that! And I was never convicted of that crime either! As for being the perfect dummies, you don't know how perfect we really are! Well, since we have no choice, I want at least three of those plebeians!" I smile with glee as only a Hobbit leader can.

I also think Restu's look is almost Hobbit-like and I like it. I shake my head at Triple M, wondering who hired whom, knowing at least in his case, posting was a learned skill. Grin

r_a_f_i_a_l

Blodwydd

Blodwydd sidles over to Shipy. "Yeah!" she exclaims, waggling a finger at Grippenweld, "I may be a lilbit proverbial, butter party leader here, he's smartsa whip!"

Then kneeling down (way down), she attempts to whisper in the Hobbit's ear. "I gotta plan. When we getta this island, we buys the first pig we see, an bringit back. Alla pigs looka like! Trussme, my Da usta raisem, an yah can't tella differnce!"

hobbit_king

Shipy

I smile at Blodwydd when she kneels down (way down) and whispers in my Hobbit ear. "Oooh, good plan! Count me in!" I rub my hands together smiling with glee. This Mr. Grippenweld would never be the wiser!

eickeric

Michael

"Bloody fools. It's obvious Grippenweld can also speak Porker, otherwise he wouldn't have such a valuable agent.

"Porker Über Alles!"

ruth_aguerre

OOC

Ruth stands around, shuffles her feet, files her nails, waiting for some inspiration for something to say, something to think; maybe a voice from her creator....

Ruth

After listening to Mr. G.'s exposition and the exchange between 3M and Shipy, Ruth begins to think that Michael might not be as loopy as she thought, and begins to wonder at her choice of legal counsel. "So, Mr. Grippenweld, there are a few things I'm a little unsure of. Just what do you mean by, 'my heart's desire,' just how do you mean to fulfill my 'heart's desire,' and after what you just told me about yourself, why should I believe that you'll fulfill your part of the agreement should any of us succeed?"

tarandracon

Taran

At Ruth's questioning, Taran emits another set of approving grunts.

ruth_aguerre

Ruth

After a very very long time with no response from Mr. Grippenweld, Ruth is quite pleased with herself. "I'm just a bit smarter than he counted on," she thinks to herself, "I sure got him on that one." Since there is nothing else to do, Ruth takes out her carving knife and starts sharpening it.

lilac_de_sprite

(Lilac the Faerie (c.f. Goblins in the Mist) peeps her tiny head in the tavern in this interlude: Trouble's Back in Town, Fellas!)

shindorim7

(The GM explains his month-long absence in his interlude: Reports of My Death Have Been Greatly Exaggerated)

jaxdracon

Jax

Jax pulls out another Lilac special recipie extra spicy sun-dried lizard and munches on it meditatively while time seems to stand still. Not many left in the pouch, he realizes, and it dawns upon him that he might never get another helping of the scrumptious snacks. "Dudes, this is looking pretty grim!" He shakes the bag and sticks his snout inside to smell the number of remaining lizards. Four. "Grim indeed!" he mutters worriedly.

shindorim7

GM

After a long, long, long, yet poignant (and pregnant!) pause for consideration, Grippenweld turns his attention to Ruth, obviously the party leader.

"Dear, I'm afraid that you misunderstand me. Your participation in this little field trip of mine is not in fact, ahem, open for negotiation. I am an honest man of business and you will get what you deserve upon the timely completion of your assignment. That, my precious creature, is your assurance.

"Guards! Take the subjects to their accomodations and have them prepped for surgery!"

Pressure doors on the opposite wall slide open with a whoosh and six beefy looking soldiers come towards. They're decked out in full metal battle suits and carrying wildly arabesque halberds which are connected by some kind of metal tubing to their temples. They spread out, three in front of you facing away from Grippenweld and three behind you. One of them grunts and indicates the doors through which they've just come.

Fight, flee, or flounder?

eickeric

Michael

And Grippe keeps telling us he's a smart guy.

Shippy [sic], we'll write and send you lots of soap when they send you up the river.

"Anyway, I'll go, but I feel obliged to point out that I requested two of the glands, not just the one." They sound like just the thing to do that "disappear out of the box" trick I've been working on.

Which reminds me, he never answered my question, so I shall reiterate the question, and repeat myself. "How long does it take to activate? Suppose Orc1 grabs the pig snout---Grolp's snout, I should be specific---while Orc2 is elsewhere. Are all the glands activated, or is Orc2 being left behind? Or is there a certain length of time Orc2 has to also grab the snout before Orc1 and Grolp disappear?" He said that it triggers when in actual physical contact with Grolp, but that still leaves the above questions unanswered.

And I'm still waiting for him to answer my "river of gold" question. In case he forgot, I shall reiterate, and once again ask the question, "How do you pay for a river of gold? With mithril? What would I do with a river of gold anyway? I don't have anywhere to keep it. Wouldn't that much gold just make it all pretty valueless anyway? Where's the profit in that? This is a secret message. Is it molten gold? What's the source?"

And seeing the beefy guards brings to mind another ignored question, which I am more than happy to reiterate, and state the query for a second time, "Why rescue Grolp anyway? What makes Grolp so important? Why not dispatch another employee to the Reservation to check out the bread on a new route? You said it was a pretty routine mission."

And thinking of the recent past, makes my thoughts wander back to Grippy saying, "We can't do it ourselves. That's where you come in." And that, of course, will make me reiterate, and parrot my earlier comment, "You need us, not the other way around. 'I'm be-t-t-er than yo-o-o-ouuuu!!!!!!!'"

"Hey, big mouth, since you've given me zilch reason to help you here, why shouldn't I just blow the whistle on the whole plot when I get to the prison? Even if they decide to jail us for conspiracy (doubtful, because none of us seem to have a great desire to help a pathetic weasel like yourself and would probably all gladly turn state's evidence), the prison sounds more like a paradise anyway. Who knows, may even be a reward for foiling a scheme like this...."

"So, I'm already sympathetic to the foe. Why should I, or anyone here, give you any help whatsoever, other than your blustery threats, and vague promise of 'your heart's desire'? Quantify that, Furious George. You catch more flies with honey, than you do with vinegar."

shindorim7

GM

Hehehe, you're a pain in the behind!

Grippenweld

"Hmmmm... your litigious nature is a pain in the behind. I will, with the assistance of my handy-dandy dictaphone (whatever one of those is) respond thoroughly and in point form (doesn't everyone speak in point form?)... only 'cause I'm such a fantastically magnanimous despot. HAHAHA!"

"The two-for-one deal is only offered every second Sunday and you need a coupon. Check for the Value-Pac in the mail."

"Pay attention to fast breaking news flashes. 5 second delay. Yes someone could get left behind. Boo-hoo, better the Hobbit than you, eh?"

"It's actually a euphemism for getting a 'golden shower,' you kinky nut (no elaboration, this is rated G). Pay for it in sweat just like on Fame (whatever that is)."

"He's a top agent and appraiser. You don't think he can do it 'cause he's a pig, right? Get back to your KKK meeting (whatever that is) you racist... you rascist pig, you! The mission on which he was captured was routine for one of his calibre. Need you? No, we don't. We need some abominable tread to pass for semi- to nonintelligent and probably go unnoticed by the MacDullards' watchful eye. They're interested in redeeming sentient creatures, not potted plants. If you think you're the only available moron in the multiverse then you're sorely mistaken."

"Hehehe...you're more than welcome to try. The Streams are just full of friendly, well rounded individuals waiting to help a stranger in need. And the MacDullards are as accomodating as career counsellors and almost as sane."

"You've got ten seconds: Are you willing or no?"

"10"

"9"

"8"

"7"

"6"

"5"

"4"

"3"

"2"

"?"

jaxdracon

Jax

Jax grunts back menacingly at the guards, then snags Michael of the Midnight Magicks [sic] by the collar of his wizard's robe. "C'mon Mike, let's not hang 'round to see Grippo get blustery all over your ass. We may actually," he swallows hard, "need your lightning wit and vorpal quipping in what lies ahead."

hobbit_king

Shipy with one "p"

"You tell him GrappleJax!" I follow along with them. "Jax, I thought Triple M had vorpal lighting and quipping wit? No maybe it was lightning quipping and witty vorpaling?" <Confusion sets in.> "See Triple M, now you know what it's like to be led around by your collar." I chuckle as only a true Hobbit can.

tarandracon

Taran

Taran remarks to Michael of the Midnight Magicks [sic] as the entourage of humans and kindreds is led out of Grippenweld's presence. "You got guts mouthing off like that."

Then, louder so Shipy can hear. "Good thing Shippy [sic] was here to save you in case things got messy." Taran bares his tusks and they glisten with his spittle in the other-wordly hues of the chamber.

eickeric

Michael

Only those with points. (Your head excluded, Grippe.)

Disgusting. And you like accepting those as currency? Blech.

I, at least, speak Porker. For an overwhelmingly intrusive omnipresent corporation, you sure have a lousy intelligence division.

Have you forgotten your second "Bottom Line" already?

I look at my fingernails.

I smooth my hair.

I rub my eye.

I stare at Grippe.

Stare.