The Geneforge Playthrough of Insanity, Inanity, and Cake.

[Florien]

Day Two, Episode 2: Zones visited: Vakkiri, Bandit Woods, Ruined School, Watchhill.

Feel free to comment on events, request certain choices, etcetera. Sometimes, like in this update, there will be audience participation, because I haven't decided where to take this save file. There is no perfect ending to search for, of course. But some are better than others.

---

Chekon Ilantz again, journal. I don't know if I deserve the title of Guardian anymore, so cowardly I've been. I finally steeled myself, and stepped forward over the threshold of the area. I was scared and barely slept last night, for fear of rogue serviles in the woods, waiting to jump out and rip me limb from limb. But now, I can see I have no choice but to press forwards. Perhaps this village won't be so bad. Perhaps the serviles aren't rogue, this is just how they get when things are like this. I'm still afraid, but I need to keep going. The secrets of this island need to be found. I've cleared my head. That boat that shot at me. It implied that there are others in the area. Hostile others, with boats, of kinds never seen before. Dark powers are at work, mark my words.

Vakkiri to the Ruined School

I've entered the village at last. The serviles are looking at me oddly. They don't seem to know how to react. They look overjoyed, yet terrified. But most of all, they look expectant. They're gauging me. I'm clearly inspiring awe. It's probably a good thing they haven't realized how scared I am, how undertrained I am, how vulnerable I am. But as shocked as they look to see a shaper, I'm shocked to see what they've done. They've not only survived, but apparently thrived! They have guard patrols, they've refurbished old ruins, built new buildings, they have merchants, they're growing crops successfully, it's very impressive. I never thought serviles could do these things without help.

A sign calls the place "Vakkiri". It's probably the place where outsider workers for the dock lived, possibly with some shapers and such in a hall or two nearby. Now, it appears to be the home of a substantial servile village. I'll look around more, talk to some of them. Perhaps one of them can explain what's happening. Either way, I don't exactly have a choice. I looked at their crops. They appear to be growing some kind of cabbages, or perhaps turnips. I have no idea, I never did farming myself. Whichever vegetable they are, they look of good quality. The serviles are well spoken too, most unusual. On conversation, the patrol serviles referred me to a "Leader Khobar", and the workers referred me to a "Learned Pinner". I will be sure to meet with these serviles, and maybe more. Then I looked at the vegetables again.



Nope, still can't tell whether they're cabbages or turnips, and asking would make me look stupid.

Anyway, this "Khobar" is apparently located in the building I'm close to, and he is supposedly the leader, so I should probably talk to him first.



I went in and talked with Khobar (and also some others.) Very interesting. Apparently, they are 100% rogue. They call themselves the Awakened, and say that they claim the right for serviles to be independent of shapers, and live as outsiders. They're much more intelligent than I previously would think possible in serviles. But of course, I also found out other things. There's two other villages on the island, bigger, more important ones, for what this place was once. There's Pentil, where the serviles stayed loyal, and still support us, and far to the east, there's Kazg, where the serviles have declared war upon the shapers, thinking we'll never grant freedom without war. Surely they're no real threat, but they might be right.

Do serviles deserve independence? I'm not really sure. I was diplomatic though, and pretended to have heard wisdom in Khobar's words. After all, he clearly saw that I was not well equipped and alone, and more than capable of being stabbed and dumped in a ditch somewhere. I also met one calling herself "Brodus Blade". She's apparently the commander of the guard. She said there were bandits and I should deal with them maybe. Khobar pointed me east, and said that rogues had appeared almost overnight in a place called Watchhill. And one called Sencia pointed me to someone called "Ellhrah", who apparently founded the Awakened. This Ellhrah lives in an old warehouse past Watchhill. Sencia also mentioned that there is a spy in the village, and I should find that spy.

I also went and checked out the merchants. I met a servile called Coale. He owns a shop.



Seeing as there are habitable things on this island, and serviles I can buy and sell from, I decided money was more important than extra clothes and a gem, so I sold all of those. I'm sure someone will have some use for the money. After dealing with that, I found out he was in possession of some chitin armor, fresh from a clawbug, and a good iron shield. I bought both. Also I found a good sword lying around unattended and borrowed that. No one noticed, so I'm sure they won't mind. I also met a servile called Clakkit or Clack-it or Claw-kit or something like that. He spoke more like normal serviles do, in a vaguely comprehensible series of words, like someone who'd barely learned language. But he seems smarter than the rest. He mentioned that there were rumors of OUTSIDERS on the island. If true, they must have a boat, and I can probably take that boat. He was also incredibly muddy. I have no idea how he managed to get that way.



Next, I decided to meet this "Pinner" person, who is supposedly "Learned". It was quite a substantial walk, but I eventually made it. I found her house, which was obviously a shaping hall. Not an experimental one, again, the lack of decon rooms showed that clearly enough. But it was nice enough. I met her inside.



She's very old, at least a hundred. Serviles do live a long time, after all, they're a pain to make more of, and even then, they're non-sterile. But nonetheless, she looks old, even for a servile. She spoke of many things. Also, apparently the things I call canisters are actually called canisters! That's convenient. Also they kill serviles when serviles try to use them, so that's slightly alarming, considering I've used three already. But she says I look fine, so it's probably not that bad. Another servile offered to sell me one for three hundred coins, but I don't have that many. I tried yelling at her, but she said no, I can't have it unless I pay her. Anyway, Pinner told me that there's an old shaper school on the island, and it's just north. I should probably check it out, maybe there's something interesting there.

Anyway, no point in dilly-dallying right now. I should check out the school first.



Or, I would, if these bandits previously mentioned weren't standing right there. Their leader, Ghurk, came up before me. He's apparently the first servile bandit ever in history, which is very impressive, or it would be, if he wasn't currently staring me down. I told him I would use shaper magic to make his arms and legs fall off if he didn't stop trying to rob me. I didn't tell him how terrifying it is to have a blade pointed at me like that, or that that's not a thing I can do. I don't know if he really believed me, but he backed off, and said I'd pay next time. His soldiers seem strong, and they're plentiful in number. I can probably avoid them and enter the school by going around. So I'll do that for now, and come back through to deal with them when I'm more confident I can. I found a bunch of rogue fyora too, on the way. I managed to lure them one by one into a isolated area, where I put them down individually.



I then headed northwards, thinking I'd dealt with the fyora problem sufficiently, but then...



That's right, a Thahd showed up. They're huge, hulking, battle-built creations. They're very basic, but nonetheless, they're quite strong and capable of knocking people down. Luckily, the cosmic ding had echoed again, and I felt ready for this fight. It saw me, but I was ready. I charged in, and in only a few seconds, I had chopped it down. Then its friends showed up, more thahds, more fyora, all rogue. It was a difficult fight, but I managed to kill all of them before they could tear my arms off, and wouldn't that be an embarrassing end, killed by thahds and fyora. I reached the door to the school, and stepped in, ready for anything, or so I thought.



I entered, and was immediately hit by a wave of nostalgia. Sure, everything is falling apart, but the basic design of the school is not substantially different to the one I attended. Even the statues are pretty similar looking. There are rogues stalking the hallways, sure, but otherwise, it's very nostalgic. These places usually have servant minds, so I'll go see if the one in here is still living. I fought a lot of rogues along the way, mostly thahds and fyora. They were once intimidating, but now, I can consistently bash their skulls in with a single blow. Some exploration later, I found this area.



There's some very legible fyora scratchings on the wall, portraying fyoras and smaller thahds bowing before a humanoid figure. Also there's a book in the corner that falls into the wall when I look at it from certain angles, but otherwise seems fine. It's either mildly eldritch, or my eyes need checking. I suspect the former, because there's a vague amount of menace emanating from the ripped pages. But otherwise, there's far more menacing things stored here. I went into an old lecture hall, and found something most disturbing. Essence. Essence shouldn't BE here. It only lasts a few months without care, but indeed, there's some essence in the experiment vats in the hall. It's a few weeks old, someone's been here, someone's made something with essence, and this implies HORRIFYING things.



So I went to poke the essence blobs in the vats. One burst, and sprayed me with vile poison. I nearly passed out, but managed to heal myself before I perished. The other contained a fyora, twisted and misshapen, as if someone tried to make it without training. I cut the sorry creature down immediately, as it tried to kill me. It is most disconcerting that such things occured. I explored the rest of the school then, not finding much of note. Though I did see my first rogue artilla. A vile worm, acid in its teeth, prepared to spew its corrosive spittle upon me. I slew it before it got the chance.



Such is life. I also encountered several stashes of armor, weapons, clothing, pods, and other things which had survived. I took them, to sell on my return to Vakkiri. Then, I looked around some more. I found the door to the servant mind, only to find it locked. I cursed my luck. I had found living tools, squid-like creatures best suited for use as lockpicks and for work with machinery. Unfortunately, they die easily when used. We haven't yet figured out a way to make them survive significant wear and tear. I didn't have remotely enough to break through the sturdy, rust-free lock. I'd have to explore the school more, perhaps there was a key that was untaken. I recovered the remains of a lecturer's journal, which indicated a great deal of fury at the island being barred, but found no clues of what had caused that to be, as the rest of the journal was ruined by water damage. Then, I turned the corner in a room, and walked right into...



The larger, green Thahd called itself Rawbone. Thahds cannot speak, normally. Nor can they plan like this. I found myself outnumbered, and quite possibly outmatched. As I prepared to die horrifically, I drew my blade. At very least, I'd make sure that none of them would get away unscathed from this fight. It was at that moment that I changed my mind and ran for the exit, with the horde in pursuit. But then, I steeled myself in my flight. I would ambush them, as I did the Fyoras earlier. So I laid in wait for Rawbone's minions charging around the corner, and I tripped them and spit them upon my blade, one by one. Rawbone came tearing around the corner also, and smashed my arm against the wall. I dropped my sword to the ground, but managed to reach my baton. My arm was broken, but my other arm's aim was true. Rawbone crashed to the ground, a thorn embedded in its brain. The cosmic ding echoed in my mind once more, as I took a belt from its corpse. I healed my arm with a spell, and I picked my sword back up. The belt was a old version of the modern girdle of intelligence, a weaker version, to be sure, but one that fit me well enough. I wore it proudly, a trophy from my victory. I also found a key among Rawbone's things, the master key to the school! That's when I went to meet the servant mind, and scavenge the remaining supplies. I decided the servant mind was the most important to deal with, so I travelled to it again. I used the master key to unlock the door, and met the servant mind.



Provalus was its name, an old administrative mind. It told me that the island was barred because of dangerous knowledge, but it had been told to forget that knowledge until further orders arrived. It had done so, because to do otherwise would be wrong. I tried to convince it to divulge some knowledge, some skills to me, but it refused. I was never good at deceit and convincing others to follow me, and it showed. Provalus did not divulge any knowledge beyond the unclassified information. However, I did look in a back room, and find a canister!

Ow!

From it, I gained the ability to raise an Artilla from magic alone. But I did not do that immediately. I had the rest of the area to investigate, which I did. Then, I checked out the other two storerooms that were locked.

Ow!

Ow!

I felt healthier after the use of those canisters. But also I felt capable of shooting venom from my fingertips. (I could not, because again, I had flunked battle magic, and did not know the proper gestures to fling it.) That's when I left the school, and began my return trip to Vakkiri.

The Bandits and Watchhill.

I evaded the eyes of the bandits, and returned to Vakkiri, to rest for a spell. I then decided to create my first creation. I raised a fyora up with the force of will and essence alone. I named it Disposable Jim. I also talked to Pinner again, about how the servant mind had told me that dangerous secrets were on the island. She seemed interested. She had assumed that it was dangerous rogues, uncontrollable, that had made the place barred, as had I. I then checked out some areas of the town I hadn't. I talked with a servile alchemist. Serviles aren't normally supposed to do alchemy, but I didn't tell him that, for fear he would splash poison in my face. I opened a box for him, and he gave me some money. I then practiced my long atrophied skills of lying, lying to a servile child to retrieve a knife stolen from a chef. The cosmic ding rang once more. I felt confident.



I then sold the various surplus supplies I had gathered. I found I had enough to afford the canister being offered by the servile I had yelled at earlier. Luckily, she held no grudge, and did not raise the price.

OWW!

The pain was not just from the needle piercing my skin, but the realization of what skill the canister had granted me. War Blessing, an ostensibly useful spell, now was within my skillset. However, I don't even remotely know the procedure for CASTING a blessing spell. That's why I became a guardian, so others would do that part for me! I'd spent three hundred coins on a useless skill. Burning white rage filled my veins, and feeling thoroughly cheated, I decided to take my rage out on the bandits to the north. Their gear would pay for my follies. I stormed north, and marched right at them, Disposable Jim close behind. I walked up to Ghurk, and cut him across the chest with a mighty sweep of my sword. Then, his friends showed up, ready to avenge their fallen leader. But I took them on, my weapons drawn, battle in my heart, a war cry on my lips, and...



Or that's what would have happened, if I had rushed into battle all willy-nilly like that. Instead, I channeled my rage to circle around to the back way, to pick off the bandits individually. That worked much better than rushing in would have. I slaughtered most of them one by one, grabbing them and silencing them, as an agent would, rather than rushing in half-cocked. Disposable Jim was completely useless and didn't hit a single one of them. Then, I burst out from the trees behind Ghurk. When he saw no one there, he realized what had happened, and he and his one surviving friend charged me. I managed to kill his friend, and then Ghurk too, faced my blade. Defiant to the end, he charged one last time, only for me to engage my finest skill, flailing wildly. I struck him twice, and he collapsed to the ground, writhed for a moment, and then died. I picked up a fine cloak from his body, and put it on. It was one of the coated varieties, the kind used to protect against powerful magical fields. Inside was stitched a label, faded with time, but still legible. "Sucia Island Power Station." That being the name of the island, I assume this means either one of his servile ancestors, or the ancestor of the servile he stole this from, once worked there. Most islands aren't important enough to have a fully equipped power station, but given what I've previously seen, I would not be shocked if this place did. Next, I briefly considered heading north, but I looked and saw nothing I desired to approach. Only bitter, sandy climes, miserable stands of dying trees, and diseased land riddled with powerful rogue clawbugs that I am not even remotely equipped to handle. Discretion being the better part of valor in those circumstances, I'm not ashamed to admit that I ran back as quickly as I could. I hope to never return there.

I instead rested briefly at Vakkiri, sold the bandit supplies and announced to Brodus that I had completed the job. I was rewarded with a wand of firebolt. I do not need such a thing, but selling it will provide me with much needed money. However, I found that Coale, the shopkeeper, had since run dry of funds to purchase the goods I had brought in. I was forced to sell to Ham the Alchemist instead. I shall soon need a new merchant, if I am to continue gaining money to buy supplies I may need further down the road. Then, I resolved to head east, and examine this "watchhill" place. Supposedly, rogues had appeared almost overnight, far too many to be accounted for by normal migration patterns. Someone or something put them there.

Some exploration revealed that this "Watchhill" was an old security post. Normally, guardians such as myself, and agents would be posted around these things, to watch the surrounding area for issues. It was also utterly infested with rogues. Disposable Jim, as always, was utterly useless, and immediately died when a thahd punched him. I took revenge for him, but I have no intention of ever making a fyora again unless I need one to set off a trap or something, and frankly, I'd rather use a thahd for that anyway. I fought my way inside the watchhill. Rogues were thick, it felt like there was no end to them. That's when I found it.



Sitting next to grey, sickly pools of essence, not of a kind I've ever seen before, it drank from them with long roots and spat out dangerous rogue creations. Such things, creations creating other creations, is illegal. Such creatures would be too dangerous, should they go rogue. Yet, here one was, and it was plainly the source of the rogues of watchhill. The battle was long and difficult. I slew every rogue it made, until it had drained the pools beside it. Though it could sense me, its only method of attack was to produce rogues. Once it had run out of essence, it could do nothing against me as I cut it apart. Watchill was purged of the rogues at last.

I searched the rest of the complex, doing cleanup on the surviving rogues. I found a storeroom.

OW.

And I learned how to craft a thahd. Certainly, a more applicable skill than the one for fyora. But not one I'm likely to use. The canisters, though they're painful to use, they feel good after they've worked whatever magic they work. I should find more of them. They provide skills which, even if I can't use them NOW, might be useful in the future. And after all, I doubt they can do much harm to me. What harm could it do to use more of them as I find them? My palm getting sore? Bah, that's hardly an issue. I soon cleaned most of the rogues in the area, and headed back to Vakkiri to tell Khobar of my deed, and what had been happening. However, on my entry to Vakkiri, I noticed a side path that had evaded my eyes before. I had never considered looking down there, but I did. I found a small house, with a shifty servile inside.



Remembering what Sencia had told me earlier, I immediately realized this servile must be the spy. But I was curious, I confess. I spoke to him, to see if my suspicions were true, and to perhaps wheedle out some information about what he wanted. He introduced himself as Nabb, and he claimed to be a member of the Takers. He said they had an offer for me. I could join them, I could meet some "powerful allies" of theirs, with power enough to make the shapers tremble. He said also that the Awakened were on the right track, but that the shapers needed to have their influence over the serviles shed completely, by war, if necessary. He then said that if I wished to join with the Takers, to meet their powerful allies, and to share in this power, that I should kill Ellhrah, due to his terrifying intelligence and strategical brilliance, and head to Kazg, in the east. I did not report him to Sencia, not immediately. I decided to consider his offer. Perhaps there was some merit to it. I went to Khobar, and told him of Watchhill and the spawner there. He seemed alarmed, and told me that I must visit Ellhrah. He gave me a message, and sent me on my way.



I reached the gates of Ellhrah's fortress, and realized I didn't know what I wanted to do anymore. I'd seen the serviles could succeed on their own. I know the shapers back home would need to be in unusual circumstances indeed to tolerate the existence of the Awakened. Most likely, they'll just kill them all the moment they find out about them. And though the Takers do seem to be correct in that they will never attain freedom from us without war, they are backed by "powerful allies." Could those powerful allies have been the ones who murdered my craft and stranded me here? Could they have been the ones who made the watchhill spawner? Outsiders are not supposed to learn our secrets without permission. They might destroy much. Already they violate our laws with this spawner, if that is indeed them. Perhaps it would be better to not court disaster by courting the takers. Then, I also heard of the Obeyers. I had not met any of them yet, but they were said to be like the serviles back home. Loyal to the shapers still. They would surely be a great help, if I wished to purge rogues from the island, to make sure knowledge deemed dangerous by the shaper council could never leave this place and fall into hands it should not. I hesitated outside the gates for a long time. Eventually, I came to a decision. Then, I stepped through the gates.

End of Day Two.
The Map as it stands...

---

And now, I turn to you. Should we side with the Awakened, the Obeyers, or the Takers? This choice, of course, can be backed out of later on.