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Chapter 6: Rebooted

The Dead Wizard's Skyscraper
Forbidden Island of Xygax the Wizard, Land of One Thousand Towers
Day Three. Sunset. March 27th, 912 CY









High atop the lightning-tossed skyscraper, in its uppermost chamber, sits the wizard Xygax.





The self-proclaimed "Dungeon Master" impassively watches the adventurers' grim fate on a series of crystal screens that surround him.





The last of the party, the woman ranger, is victorious. Then, gruesomely, she transforms into a living green mire.






Xygax looks down. Arrayed before the sorcerer-historian are a series of ancient illuminated manuscripts, timeless memory tapes, arcane ephemera, esoteric trivia and sundry from the long lost epoch of 'Earth That Was.'

Lurid garish depictions of sorcerers, automatons, monsters, masked men and other mysterious subjects grace their age-worn covers. One such antique curio is an amusement entitled "Dungeons and Dragons."



It purports to be an "adventure module" whose substantial contents hold many empty spaces for its owner to fill in. These have been carefully completed by Xygax. "5 Daleks" reads one hand-written entry. "9 Klingons" reads another.

The wizard looks back at the slime-filled egg chamber. He switches on a microphone and speaks.
"Game over. Another TPK. I knew that wandering monster chart was going to be trouble.
"Okay. Reset the rooms. Get everything ready again. The next group of playtesters will be here soon."

Beneath the Dead Wizard's Skyscraper
Forbidden Island of Xygax the Wizard, Land of One Thousand Towers
Day Three. Sunset. March 27th, 912 CY








Dead. All dead. Or so they thought.

What they didn't know was the cybernetic nanites within the Undead Cyborg Abomination had been affected by the viridian ooze from the sacred baptismal fonts! Thus infected, they malfunction. Instead of assimilating the adventurers, or allowing them to be transformed into living emerald mire, they accidentally reform, augment and resuscitate the adventurers!

Momentarily linked with the Cyborg Abomination's electrical subconscious, the adventurers see a strange flash of clairvoyant visions in their minds: Xygax's mad designs, and a secret access hatch to the surface - a way out of the living hell of the Wizard's Skyscraper!



In a half-remembered surreal nightmare, they lurch back to life and flee!

Plunging from the hell tower they race across the lightning-savaged plateau!



The treasure they sought was fool's gold. The dead wizard lives! Xygax is creating mythic monsters out of ancient legends, playing deadly games with those unfortunate enough to enter his sinister web!

Blurred hellish memories of bolting from the plateau, half blind with terror, toward the setting sun. Running without end. Across a parched and barren landscape. Lungs burning. Sides aching. Running all night.

Their senses return with the dawn.



They collapse to the ground, gasping, panting and lucky to be alive. The unwilling playtesters that survived Xygax's homicidal diversion recover their wits and survey their number:

Fiefo LeBratt, pessimistic rat-man fighter!
Garamond Antiqua, biblio-bot automaton!
Ko-Nan, savage post-apocalyptic barbarian!
L.L. Adrock, hymn-quoting sorcerer-priest of antiquity!
Maskelyn, trickster prestidigitator!
Tullia Galena, resolute half-elf ranger!

All augmented. All changed. And none more than Garamond.



A fierce warrior now stands where the spindly librarian had been. But Chaka and Jeojand are nowhere to be found.

Suddenly two figures approach non-threateningly; a pair of fellow adventurers from the doomed ship! The party thought these companions lost at sea!

Hans the Shrewd, pious mole-man!
Jack, cub scout wolf-man!

The adventurers that set out from Denethix together are reunited at last.


Actions? (and re-introductory posts, please!)


Island Map, to date:

White X = the approximate location of the adventurers. White dotted line was the main party's path.





PC Status:

• Fiefo LeBratt: Rat-Man Fighter 3: Move: 9", AC: 1, HP: 26/26
  Hans the Shrewd: Mole-Man Cleric/Thief 2/2: Move: 9", AC: 4, HP: 16/16, Spells: 0/4 1st level
  Jack: Wolf-Man Cleric 3: Move: 12", AC: 2, HP: 25/25, Spells: 0/4 1st level, 0/1 2nd level
  Ko-Nan: Human Barbarian 2: Move: 12", AC: 4, HP: 32/32
  L.L. Adrock: Half-Elf Cleric/Magic-User 2/1: Move: 9", AC: 1, HP: 8/8, Spells: 0/5 1st lvl
  Maskelyn: Gnome Illusionist 3: Move: 9", AC: 7, HP: 14/14, Spells: 0/2 1st lvl, 0/1 2nd lvl
  Moniqua: Robot Fighter 3: Move: 9", AC: 1, HP: 32/32
  Tullia Galena: Half-Elf Ranger 3: Move: 9", AC: 5, HP: 31/31

PC Magic:

• None currently

Player Resources:

• End of the World (game description)
  Strange New World (maps and realms)
  Memory Tapes (the story so far)
  Viewscreen (the story so far in images)

LL

and I ran, I ran so far away
couldn't get away

we are shipwrecked and no idea where we are. where to now?

Maskelyn
The Gnome rolled over, brushing sand from the random tufts of hair on his face and body. Looking more like a Ratman than usual, he blinked and spat, looking around for his gear. Not finding it, he mumbled a curse.

Are we- no, we can't be dead... This ain't the Heaven they promised me.

He stands and takes a quick headcount. You know, Doc- I think we got in over our heads. Maybe we should try and get better stuff before we go back in.... he looks around, just realizing their situation. There?

Moniqua

With a whine of servos, the robot amazon comes to a halt amidst the strange group. Her companions collapse to the ground, gasping and panting, while she stands motionless... unbreathing... Her mind whirrs as she tries to understand. Who are they? What are they doing here?

< PROCESSING >

Her head turns slowly, scanning each of the organic lifeforms.

< SCANNING > < ACCESSING MEMORY BANKS > < SEARCHING > < SEARCHING >
< NO MATCHES RETURNED > < REPEAT WITH NEW SEARCH PARAMETERS (Y/N)? > < NEGATIVE >

Something is missing.

< RUN DIAGNOSTIC > < ERROR. SYSTEM MALFUNCTION. DATA CORRUPTED >

Much of the data is missing and yet somehow the organics are familiar. She cannot explain it.
"< WHAT IS HAPPENING TO ME? >"

< RUN DIAGNOSTIC >
< SYSTEMS FUNCTIONAL > < MEMORY BANKS CORRUPTED >

At that moment, she spots something, a small piece of pink matter, stuck to the toe of her metal foot. It seems important. She reaches down and takes it between her fingers.

< ANALYSING > < SEARCHING MEMORY BANKS > < SEARCHING >
< PROBABLE MATCH FOUND > < 95.3% PROBABILITY MATERIAL IS BRAIN MATTER >

The statuesque robot amazon cocks her head to one side. Brain matter. Pink brain matter. Inexplicably, there is a hazy moment of recognition.

"< FATHER? >" she whispers uncertainly.

Hans the Shrewd

Far off, a flock of seagulls wheels in the sky.

"Redefine beauty!" Hans exclaims as he crests a dune and catches sight of his lost companions. "It's them, Jack!"

The yellowed claws of his right hand come to rest on an earthenware jar on his belt as he mumbles thanks for their good fortune.

Fiefo regains his senses. The mangy, four and a half foot rat-man pushes himself up off the ground, looking like nothing more than, well... a four and a half foot tall rat man. But not in a good way.

Finally done with their frantic escape, he has time to reflect. What is this mote in his vision? This crosshair , drifting and locking on with every shift in his focus? He seems to see more clearly, more precisely. He still feels like a sack of garbage, but somehow better than before.

Meanwhile, his now metal, segmented tail probes and explores the ground around him, as if gathering data of it's own accord.

"Are we dead yet?" he says. "Who are you guys? The other mole-man we had was a nice guy. Got dismembered. Good luck."

Ko-Nan's dreams are dark of late! Dead wizards come to life, creatures of meat and metal, green slime that melts the flesh away!

Darkness. Light. Colors. PAIN.

Pain like lightning. Lightning through his veins - through his soul!

His body thrashes awake. Back to awareness. He's on his feet. The deadly familiar feel of his weapon in hand. Ko-Nan clutches it tightly - tighter than he can ever recall. His knuckles white with the grip.

Lightning! Lightning coursing through him - lightning flashing through the straining vascularity of his muscles. Strength! He swings the weapon with ease. Cutting and slicing through the air. Cutting and slicing those he sees around him - nearly - along with thoughts of the Dead Wizard. Momentary recognition averts a killing blow!

Strength! Like he hasn't ever had before!

"CROM!!!!!!"

Tullia Galena

Blackness, then realizing she was not consumed by the green goop or the abomination. Then running, running, for what seemed to be forever. Collapsing, in the sand. Blessed oblivion. But not for long. She senses that there are others stirring around her. She opens her eyes, and sees much of the original party near her. There are two people she vaguely recognizes, from somewhere, and a new-looking metal person.

Body... still in one piece. But something seem different. Wait... she feels her ears... what is this? They have grown larger and more pointy! She also realizes that her hearing seems to be greatly improved! Did the green goo do something? Brushing off the sand, she stands up. Ah, good, at least she still has the sword, bow and arrows.

Well, it looks like most of us made it out. What a nightmare. Hello, everyone.

Maskelyn
Yes, Praise Bugs! He chose to aid us, and we thank him for his fickle kindness.

Maskelyn surveys the landscape, looking for anything more than more sand dunes.

The Desert West of the Wizard's Skyscraper
Forbidden Island of Xygax, Land of One Thousand Towers
Day Four. Dawn. March 28th, 912 CY







The dawn comes up like fire, revealing a desolate vista devoid of life.

The survivors of Xygax's game come to grips with the astonishing transformation their bodies have undergone.

As they reunite with long lost companions, they begin to feel their adrenaline fade. Exhaustion, hunger and thirst set in.


Actions?



Island Map, to date:

White X = the approximate location of the adventurers. White dotted line was the main party's path.





PC Status:

• Fiefo LeBratt: Rat-Man Fighter 3: Move: 9", AC: 1, HP: 26/26
  Hans the Shrewd: Mole-Man Cleric/Thief 2/2: Move: 12", AC: 4, HP: 16/16, Spells: 0/4 1st level
  Jack: Wolf-Man Cleric 3: Move: 12", AC: 2, HP: 25/25, Spells: 0/4 1st level, 0/1 2nd level
  Ko-Nan: Human Barbarian 2: Move: 12", AC: 4, HP: 32/32
  L.L. Adrock: Half-Elf Cleric/Magic-User 2/1: Move: 9", AC: 1, HP: 8/8, Spells: 0/5 1st lvl
  Maskelyn: Gnome Illusionist 3: Move: 9", AC: 7, HP: 14/14, Spells: 0/2 1st lvl, 0/1 2nd lvl
  Moniqua: Robot Fighter 3: Move: 9", AC: 1, HP: 32/32
  Tullia Galena: Half-Elf Ranger 3: Move: 9", AC: 5, HP: 31/31

PC Magic:

• None currently

Player Resources:

• End of the World (game description)
  Strange New World (maps and realms)
  Memory Tapes (the story so far)
  Viewscreen (the story so far in images)

Hans the Shrewd

The mole-man's mood is brightened by the fortuitous rendezvous with his erstwhile companions. Having sideways descended a steep dune, he approaches them at a bouncy half-trot after making sure that Jack is following. He stops short several yards away at the sight of the silvery gynoid which, unbeknownst to him, was once the redoubtable Garamond Antiqua.

"Wh-who are you?" he stammers, half in surprise and half with dumbstruck envy. "S-such skin. Shiny... lustrous... ageless. A red carpet show-stealer!"

Craning his neck forward to better assess her form, Hans' beady black eyes remain fixed on Moniqua. He says no more.

Tullia

We seemed to have received "improvements" from the tower. Hello, new metal person. Do you know what happened to our friend Garamond Antiqua?

She looks around the barren landscape, and realizes that with the exception of her weapons, all of her gear and that of her companions has been lost. Most importantly, all their food and water was left behind.

Then the thought comes to her mind: Oh, dear, we are going to need food and water really soon.

Moniqua

The statuesque robot watches the short, wrinkled, beady-eyed organic and his canine companion approaching.

< SCANNING. THREAT ASSESSMENT = LOW >

Imperceptibly, she relaxes. Combat algorithms remain dormant for the time being.

The curious man-mammal nearly falls over itself as it excitedly bounces up to her, bobbing up and down and peering at her metal form in apparent wonderment.

She starts to respond to the creature's query, "< THIS SYSTEM IS DESIGNATED... >." Then she falters. What is her designation? Suddenly, she realises she doesn't know who she is or what she's doing there. It disturbs her sense of order and search routines are immediately spawned to seek out relevant data. "< PLEASE WAIT. I AM HAVING DIFFICULTY ACCESSING THAT INFORMATION. >"

< ACCESSING SYSTEM SETTINGS > < QUERY: SYSTEM DESIGNATION? > < DATA CORRUPTED > < SEARCHING MEMORY BANKS. SEARCHING. SEARCHING... >

< POSSIBLE DESIGNATION FOUND IN TERTIARY BACKUP SERVER. > < DESIGNATION: [CORRUPTED]MON[CORRUPTED]IQUA > < DATA REPAIR INITIATED. >

< REPAIR COMPLETE. DESIGNATION = MONIQUA. >

At that moment, one of the other lifeforms approaches, a tall, thin, pointy-eared female with platinum blonde hair. "Hello, new metal person. Do you know what happened to our friend Garamond Antiqua?" she asks.

The robot cocks her head to one side. She has no data on the woman but inexplicably, something inside tells her she is a friend.

< PLATINUM BLONDE WOMAN = FRIEND. >

The robot starts another query...

< QUERY: GARAMOND ANTIQUA. STATUS? >

For reasons she cannot explain, her thoughts are drawn inexorably to the small piece of pink brain matter that she removed from her foot.

< GARAMOND ANTIQUA = FATHER >

The robot hesitantly holds out her metal finger to show the platinum blonde woman the small piece of brain matter.

"< THE ENTITY DESIGNATED GARAMOND ANTIQUA HAS CEASED TO FUNCTION >" she says in a slightly bewildered monotone, as though she doesn't quite understand it... And then, more confidently to both of the organics standing before her.

"< I AM DESIGNATED MONIQUA. WHEN GARAMOND ANTIQUA WAS DESTROYED, I WAS CREATED. IN A SENSE, HE IS MY FATHER. >"

She pauses, her central processor whirring for a moment. Then, she continues.

"< YOU ARE A FRIEND OF GARAMOND ANTIQUA. GARAMOND ANTIQUA IS MONIQUA'S FATHER. LOGIC DICTATES YOU ARE A FRIEND OF MONIQUA. THIS SYSTEM WILL ENDEAVOUR TO PERFORM OPTIMALLY AND AID HER FRIENDS TO THE BEST OF HER ABILITY. PLEASE IDENTIFY YOURSELVES. HOW ARE YOU DESIGNATED? >"

Ko-Nan scans the horizon in all directions. He sniffs the air. He examines the ground for tracks of any kind.
"Thirsty," he grunts.

Maskelyn
Hey, Moniqua. How long will you stay fresh in that can? The Gnome grins, exposing a mouthful of crooked teeth.
His face gets very solemn when his stomach begins to growl. Uh-oh...

Jack

Dressed in blue and yellow, the wolf-man is happy to see the others. I'm very glad to see Hans and I weren't the only survivors of the shipwreck! Akela has smiled upon us all. And we have a shiny new friend, as well!

Hans the Shrewd

Captivated by the uncommon smoothness of Moniqua's shell, with the tip of one claw the diminutive acolyte applies a dab of cream from his jar to the towering robot's thigh. Following a moment of close observation, he clicks his incisors twice and lifts his eyes to meet her downward gaze.

"I'm Hans," he submits, approximating a smile. "I'm mole Hans."

Gently, and with some reluctance evident, he removes his claw from her person. Pointing to the east-southeast, he addresses his parched brethren. "Water that way." To this he pointedly adds, "Because you deserve better."

"Well what are we standing around here waiting to die again for? Let's go get murdered by some river monster, I guess. Or die of thirst. Whatever." says Fiefo at the mention of water.