Equestrian Radio Show's Adventure Variety Hour: Explorers of STOMP

Muse face-taloned in embarrassment.  "See, this is why I'm no good at this heroic exploring stuff.  While I figured that splitting would be faster, of course we could watch each other's backs if we stick together.  And you make a point about fire and books.  I just...wanted to apologize for how I acted the first time you summoned the fire giant.  It reminds me of something but I can't let that be held against it.  *sigh* I guess I can wait for the next time someone tries to kill us."

Elsewhere, Brisk Iron paused briefly.  Maintaining eye contact with the hippogriff, she slowly replied. "What you encountered was not any part of Keep security.  What you and the 'mechanic' encountered is named Tilde.  It is a sapient free roaming calamitous word of command that delights itself in torture and destruction.  You know how some mages use incantations and power words for their magic?  This is effectively one that has a mind of its own...and hates everyone.  We found it years ago after it had stalked the ruins of an undisclosed temple.  It toyed with, and then killed, several members of one of the earlier STOMP teams.  The only one to stop it was Princess Silver Swirl since she's studied ancient languages.  The thing about Tilde is that for all its power, it's magical text.  Subverting or overwriting it can render Tilde inert so Silver Swirl simply cheated on the test, so to speak.  The Caballuston base was where we were keeping Tilde detained until we could figure out how to permanently rewrite it but the blackout set it free from containment.  You and the 'mechanic' are lucky to be alive.  But make no mistake, it's going to try to kill you the second time.  With the Keep base in shambles and the Princess in a coma, this is one of the worst times for it to get out.  The one small solace is that Tilde is too much of a coward to attack large groups and seems to need to rest after each attack.

By the way, the official designation of that 'mechanic' is 'Janitor'.  You just might want to get that detail correct."

Hector started. She knew? "She's here, isn't she. Much as I would like to talk about her too, this Tilde thing sounds a little more pressing. What exactly am I supposed to do about it? I'm just a weather crafter, after all. All I can do is avoid it - and if memory serves I won't be able to see it coming until it's too late. How big is a 'large group', then?"

"You think so?  Thanks.  I'm so used to things barely working out.  Well, guess I better leave you to your work.  I think Grease needed to talk to me about something." Muse swiftly leaves the room and narrowly avoids crashing into Grease.

Meanwhile, Brisk Iron maintained stern eye contact. "For all of its power, Tilde is still words.  You may not have overt magic but, in theory, anypony can defeat it by deciphering the pattern.  I can't give you definitive answers but I can at least give warning.  This affects all of us after all.  You may want to speak with Professor Fields or Gearick for more on linguistic theory.  Gearick may be busy at the moment though.  As far as Dusty Winds, see to it that you live up to the praise lauded in the eyewitness reports of your performance on the clock.  Enjoy your bath." Brisk Iron made an abrupt turn and walked out.

"...Chooka," Hector sighed. Evidently everyone knew. And now he had to watch out for this Tilde thing.

No matter. He had (mostly) mastered one language, he could learn more. He went out, dumping the towel into a hamper on the way.

Before long he found a certain minotaur. He had not been introduced (or could not recall); but he had seen him in the battle, and he knew everyone else on his team (he hoped) and so he reasoned that this must be...

"Professor Fields?" He asked, looking upwards for once. It was odd; usually he had to look slightly downwards. Now he had to crane his neck a little. "I'm Hector Gildedwings; but you probably knew that. Brisk Iron said I should talk to you about... chooka, what was the word. Linguistic theory? She said it would help if we ran across Tilde again."

After narrowly avoiding Muse, Grease weaves around her to watch Hector leaving the bath room. "This is oddly convenient." Grease says to Muse, starting to walk towards the open door. "I needed to talk to you and drop off some of Base's soap. Do you have any claw polish, by any chance?"

Stouy and Tree wander the base, looking for Hector.

"Looking for someone?" the spirit asked.

"Yes, that Hector Something wings."

"Any idea why?

"I just have a good feeling about him. We could take him along to these caverns"

"I don't know."

"Noted."

"I don't wear claw polish.  And why would you need it if you've got soap?  Especially Base's soap. Well, anyway..." Muse picked Grease up and walked into the next room over. "You said you wanted to talk?  Figure it would be better in private."

Gearick carefully studies the papers, making careful notations of the fluctuating readings.  After a while, he managed to surmise that all of that the numbers were fluctuating with time.  Each was keyed to a different second within the minute that they would go up or down.  Moreover, the topmost sheet seemed to have less severe rises and falls the longer it was on top.

"I suppose first I really should get a rundown on what happened while I was asleep, just in case something terrible comes crashing through the wall before we're done talking." Grease looks expectantly at the far wall, putting soap on various shelves. "Did you ever hear what wrecked the Callabuston base? Was it Hector? I don't think this team can take any more collateral damage-heavy members."

The griffon seer watched in confusion as the young dragon stacked soap throughout the room. "After that red pegasus took you away, we just did cleanup for a while.  Apparently, something blew up the tunnel leading to the teleport room.  To my understanding, Hector helped in getting things repaired so he's not at fault."

"I'll have to ask him for more details later." Grease says, climbing back on to Muse's back to reach some higher shelves. "And what happened to Silver Swirl? Last I checked, Magical Exhaustion functioned similarly to my own crash cycle, and that was nothing like how I go out."

Crystalite wrote:
"Professor Fields?" He asked, looking upwards for once. It was odd; usually he had to look slightly downwards. Now he had to crane his neck a little. "I'm Hector Gildedwings; but you probably knew that. Brisk Iron said I should talk to you about... chooka, what was the word. Linguistic theory? She said it would help if we ran across Tilde again."

"Speak of the Devil and he shall appear." Fields looks down at Hector slightly smiling. "It is a pleasure to be more properly introduced to you. Now I am at the very least versed enough to provide a working translation in most languages." Here Fields pauses for recall anything her knows about the creature called Tilde.

Roll:

"Yeah, that's great. For you. I was kinda hoping you might teach me a little; and maybe everyone eryone else on the team, too. I ran into Tilde once; Dusty almost died. I probably wasn't far behind. And there wasn't a thing I could do about it. I don't want that to happen again," He said, sighing at the regret he felt over the incident.

"So. Can you help me? Or should I be looking elsewhere?"

"Under the castle are four golden horseshoes of great power.  I'm sure they'll heal her but we've got to reach them without getting killed by the traps and wards.  I've seen them and I'm pretty sure STOMP is the only ones who could reach them.  Very few have been down there."  

Meanwhile, Gearick returned to the infirmary.  As Dusty Winds silently sat off to the side, one of the doctors approached him. "Did you manage to make any headway?  We've mainly been trying to make sure the Princess doesn't get work but any help would be appreciated."

And yet elsewhere, Stout Spirit managed to find the discussion going on between Professor Fields and Hector Gildedwings.

"We'll get them." Grease says, setting down the last bars of soap and turning to face Muse. "The real reason I wanted to talk to you is because I noticed something when we were trying to put the dragon back to sleep. I wanted to avoid any memories of tragedy or danger, since I figured that even if the problem was being resolved, that wouldn't do much to placate him. So instead I conjured up memories of happy creatures, and I noticed someone missing. I've never actually seen you happy, or even enjoying yourself, really. Muse, what makes you happy?"

Muse gave a heavy sigh that made the griffin seem far older than she was.  She sat down and held her head low.  "I hate having to go save the world.  Sure, all of these discoveries can lead to great things but I wonder if we left things well enough alone, it would wind up a better place.  But with all the malevolent groups out there, I know better.  Those skilled enough need to stand against evil and unfortunately I have a skill.  Though there are days I wish I was born blind.  I'm tired of being a magnet for calamity that the Princess has to constantly stop.  

I...I prefer the downtime.  When Silver Swirl and I can just talk about pointless stuff or do each other's hair.  And I feel selfish for wanting it.  I didn't even enjoy it the past few times since I didn't know how long it would last before we set out again.  But...your gift made me happy.  For the first time in a long time...I was able to focus on something else than the chaos at hand.  Thank you.  You're one of the few friends I have."

ZamuelNow wrote:And yet elsewhere, Stout Spirit managed to find the discussion going on between Professor Fields and Hector Gildedwings.

Hector turned to see the buffalo approaching. "Hello. You're... Stout Staff, I believe? I forget, sorry. What's up?"

((Can Hector see Torquoise Tree?))

Stout's approach breaks Fields out of his thoughts. "Yes, I should be able to help you after a fashion. However first it is required of me to do some explaining.  Linguistic Theory is a rather strange kettle of fish. It requires in depth knowledge of the wording and rules of a magical text allowing a counter to be formed even without any innate magic. But here is where things more complex, magic as a whole is a very complex system with countless variations and interpretations. Within a single school of magic the rules tend to for the most part remain the same however a similar school of magic from different origins may well abide by an entirely different set of rules. Meaning that in order to be even remotely effective with Linguistic Theory one must be informed beforehand exactly what magic the text consists of and have sufficient knowledge of that type of magic. Additionally should the text that the Theory is to be applied upon be experimental or even a combination of multiple types of magic so that the rules governing it are not yet fully understood Linguistic Theory becomes little more that guess work and ad-lib interpretation while the test is quite likely causing you to go mad just from reading it." Here Fields pauses for a moment as an idea strikes him. " To give you a relatively relative example take into consideration Stout Spirit, Gearick, and myself. Each of us falls into the broad category of Shamanists or Summoners yet Stout draws upon the powers of his ancestors and his spirit guide am I correct? While Gearick ,apparently, and I make dealings with powerful creatures of varying origin even then how the magic works is vastly different Gearick tends to call forth a being in a lasting manner to do battle while I only unleash a single stored burst of a creature's power. The subtle typing of magic is likely Linguistic Theory's great weakness once identified the rules of a magic may be analyzed. Do you fully understand?"

OOC too much or too little world building?

"Uuhhmmm..." Hector wasn't sure. Fields had went a little too fast in his long-winded explanation. He felt like he understood the basic idea, and decided to check. "Chooka. So the short version is there's not much I, the humble hippogriff, can do right now? If I caught your meaning - and I'll admit, maybe I didn't, Equestrian is a second language to me - you'd basically have to study for years to know for sure. Unless Brisk Iron can give us a little more on Tilde's origins. Doubtful.'

ZamuelNow wrote:Muse gave a heavy sigh that made the griffin seem far older than she was.  She sat down and held her head low.  "I hate having to go save the world.  Sure, all of these discoveries can lead to great things but I wonder if we left things well enough alone, it would wind up a better place.  But with all the malevolent groups out there, I know better.  Those skilled enough need to stand against evil and unfortunately I have a skill.  Though there are days I wish I was born blind.  I'm tired of being a magnet for calamity that the Princess has to constantly stop.  

I...I prefer the downtime.  When Silver Swirl and I can just talk about pointless stuff or do each other's hair.  And I feel selfish for wanting it.  I didn't even enjoy it the past few times since I didn't know how long it would last before we set out again.  But...your gift made me happy.  For the first time in a long time...I was able to focus on something else than the chaos at hand.  Thank you.  You're one of the few friends I have."

Grease blinks for about 10 seconds after Muse finishes talking. "I think that makes you the most courageous of us all, Muse." He says, slowly starting to grin again. "My reckless abandon comes from the knowledge that all I'm looking forward to in the future is life as a sentient garden gnome, but you...you're incredible. If we ever need someone of pure heart for something other than a sacrifice, I hope you're with us." He then blinks a few more times, processing the tail end of the statement. "You're one of the only friends I have, Muse. Heck, I wouldn't even count Gearick as a friend, even though he's saved my life at least once. I'm glad I make you happy." He says, putting a hand on her foreleg.