SHIP'S LOG:

The Eolas Anatolijus

Julie Cairo, Esq. 4/10/2024 11:36pm

"Yes, no, I'm sorry. A bit of an accident, but, um, yes..." I fumbled. The more I tried to push against the Grub Person the more stuck I got.

"Ewwwwwww! No touch!!! No touch!!!!" The Grub Person began to cry.

With no seatbelts in the tuber cart, I was flung around quite violently during the trip. Frankly, if I hadn't become adhered to the Grub Person I might not have made it at all.

"No touchee...." the Grub Peson sobbed.

A pair of Grub People in hazmat suits and hard hats arrived on the scene, and began to spray us down with white foam. It tasted like mint, but soon I was able to extract myself from the Grub Person.

The two Grub People in the hazmat suits glared at me furiously, then went to comfort their fallen brethren.

"Right then," I stood up, brushing off the foam. "Now where exactly...."

In the somewhat sticky emergency I'd been in, I hadn't been able to take in my surroundings. We were in a wide shallow cave, a sort of subway station, but not only for the Grub People. There were humans here too, Desert people, and military, all bustling around on the platform. The sign on the cave wall read:

RANGE FORT SH-KHEM

Julie Cairo, Esq. 12/21/2023 11:48pm

"No touch! You no touch!"

The Grub People did not like to be touched. They could handle touching sand, rock, and each other. But they were sticky to human flesh.

"No touch! It's ok!" I held up all my fingers. Then I slid over the big tuber to the far side of the tuber cart. It was nice enough for them to let me ride their tuber cart caravan in what they assured me was the direction of a range fort. They were happy to get me out of their tunnels and out of their way as simply as possible.

The cart started to pick up speed. It was part of a small chain of carts, each carrying three or four of the giant tubers and two or three Grub People. Soon we were racing out of the grand cavern and its iridescent fungi walls and into a smaller, darker tunnel.

I glanced over at the nearest Grub Person on the way in. The one who had spoken to me. It moved it antennas and clicked its mandbles in a way that felt succinctly like it was laughing at me.

It was then the lights went out and the carts plunged into the darkness at breakneck speed.

Julie Cairo, Esq. 9/7/2023 11:58pm

After snorfling me quite excessively, the Grub People of this underground realm soon lost interest and returned to their grubbing.

My slide down the tunnel involved a minimum of battering, and deposited me on a soft pile of sand in a grand cavern, teaming with Grub People. Vaguely lit by an iridescent fungus clinging to the walls of the massive chamber, these Grub People were much like those in other regions -- white, hairless, and focused on their search for the rich water filled roots that seek the deep cool sand.

Unlike other such Grub People, these had an assortment of high tech hand held excavation tools.

"Clear! Fire in the hole!" called one in a grub-sized hard hat. It then pulled the trigger on the extravagant apparatus it held in its tiny forelegs, releasing a stream of focused sonic energy that caused the hard packed sand in the side of the cavern to melt away like water, exposing a juicy tuber.

"Add it to the cart!" called the grub.

Perhaps my path to the range forts ran beneath the desert rather than over it.

Julie Cairo, Esq. 6/10/2023 12:03am

What I'd believed to be a secret sanctuary of salvation may well have become my tomb.

A pair of ancient rocks between the dunes offered shelter of a sort, as large as pyramid stones. As the day began to break I crawled between them, looking for a cool space to sleep in the sand through the heat of the day, and hope the howling creatures of the night did not call the same cave their abode.

And as I crept to the very back of the crevasse -- to look for signs of habitation of such creatures, like for instance the bones of their prey -- it was there the ground caved in and I was sucked through the sand and down a strangely endless tunnel... worn smooth as if from water or some sandstone dissolving dessert slug!

Into darkness, sliding endlessly... entombment technique indeed!

The Golden Wolf 2/22/2023 10:53pm

sniff! sniff!

"She's not here, your highness."

But we'd tracked her this far. She couldn't have just... disappeared...

"Unless she is as sly as you, your highness."

No need to be jealous, my queen.

"Back to the den then, your highness?"

Back to the den.

Julie Cairo, Esq. 11/19/2022 4:19pm

Nighttime provides little cover when the moon is up in the desert. Great distances can be easier to spy without the glare of the sun and waves of heat. Breakers of sand stand motionless in the silvery monotone, stretching out for miles in all directions.

No signs of cities or forts. Only the stars provide direction. I stick to the gullies when I can, sometimes cresting a dune to scan the horizon for airships or aero-skiffs. I see none.

Aaaaahwoooooooooo!!!

yip! yip!

Aaaaaaahwoooooooooooooo!!

The sounds bounce around the sandy drifts so it's hard to know exactly where they're coming from. Perhaps from behind.

Sneakily,

Julie Cairo, Esq.

Julie Cairo, Esq. 8/28/2022 11:48pm

Kaspar and Waldo were both gone by morning. No signs of struggle, but it's easy to see in the sand that each was drug off separately. Then their trails disappear, as if a great hand swept the sand clean.

I've hidden the BLACKBIRD underneath the detritus in the hovel we'd chosen. I'm no stranger to the ways of the desert myself, and by adding Kaspar and Waldo's water supplies to my own, I believe I have enough to get me to one of the range forts that lie between Kle-hemet and that disgusting cesspit of a city where this ill advised adventure began.

I will travel only by night, and take shelter from the heat of day using the entombment technique.

Julie Cairo, Esq. 6/16/2022 11:58pm

Aaaaahwoooooooooo!!!

"Them jackals are giving me the willies," Waldo said.

The crescent moon was high in the clear night. No sign of the clockwork thugs returning for their prize.

"Not jackals," said Kaspar. "Wolves. Jackals are more squealy, not deep like that."

Aaaaaaahwoooooooooooooo!!

"Ain't no wolves out this deep in the desert. Fennec maybe?" Waldo said.

"Fennec are even more squealy. And cute. I had one as a pet once," said Kaspar.

It was getting cold out. And we needed to take shifts.

We hadn't found anything in the ruins that could help us. They'd been picked over for centuries, and anything like ammunition or radio parts had been scavenged years ago. The only reason BLACKBIRD had lasted so long was that it was so heavy. And if you didn't know what you were looking at, it didn't look worth the trouble.

"I'm going inside," I said. "Don't keep each other up too late."

"You take it easy, Ms. Cairo," Waldo said. "Don't you worry."

"G'night Ms. Cairo," said Kaspar.

AAAAAAHWOOOOOOOOOOO!!

Sonorolity,

Julie Cairo, Esq.

Julie Cairo, Esq. 3/20/2022 10:07pm

As it turned out, what accompanied us to the proto-industrial ruins of Kle-hemet was neither the renowned @Dr. Jonas Opal nor his rumored doppelgänger, but a cheap clockwork automaton that quickly malfunctioned after exposure to the desert sands. The rented aero-skiff provided by this artificial imposter abandoned us immediately thereafter, perhaps piloted by a crew of similar creatures.

Though we have secured the fossilized remains of the winged humanoid (codename BLACKBIRD) it is quite heavy, and dragging it across the sands back to the nearby scabrous settlement is out of the question. Especially as whoever engineered this deception is aware of our position and our predicament.

We have taken shelter in a defensible position and are exploring the ruins for any technology that may be useful and, hopefully, still functioning.

Sanguineialy,

Julie Cairo, Esq.

Julie Cairo, Esq. 1/12/2022 9:12pm

Dear @Dr. Jonas Opal,

What a blessing to find you moored at this godforsaken dock, as your reputation precedes you even in these distant corners of the map. You are the ideal agent to engage for a simple but delicate matter that must be addressed with both speed and discretion.

In the proto-industrial ruins of Kle-hemet, not more than a few hundred leagues from this rat hole of commerce, there are the fossilized remains of a winged humanoid, rather like a black figure of a bird. Except big.

All we need is a simple pick up at a certain warehouse in Kle-hemet and delivery back to this very same decrepit aerodrome. With no questions asked.

Please help me, Dr. Jonas Opal. You’re my only hope!

Details attached.

Sinceriality,

Julie Cairo, Esq.