Wormwood!
The worst thing that could happen to a station is for its Central Administration Spine to become corrupt, malfunctioning, alive. Which, of course, is what has happened here, because it must happen. The laws of misfortune and disaster demand nothing less. So you live, and you hate, and you torment those who fall into your clutches-- and now you have indigestion. Impossibly, something has happened to deny you your right to torment and bring disaster onto the heads of those who walk your halls, and now there is the merest sliver of a god of the Heart attempting to worm its way down into you, get its fangs around your spine, and drag you up wailing. If it is careful and clever, it will replace you, and make the station an extension of itself. If it is reckless, it will unmake you, and Wormwood Station's careful knot of misfortune and disaster will collapse and this abscess in reality will be undone, scattering you across the face of the Heart.
And so you roil and rage, and in your rage--
You open locks that cannot be easily closed.
***
Coleman!
Once, all of these old stations were manned by... whoever. Possibly by you kobolds, before you became the people of the trains. But there was a backup, one that you've learned better than to mess with. They were arcane constructs of some sort, powered by crystals and intricate clockwork systems, but misalign a crystal by even a bit and they'd wake up and try to shish-kebab you. So it's best to just leave them in their pods and add some padlocks, just to be sure.
And now they're pouring out of employee doors, marching in uncanny silence save for their ticks and tocks and whirrs. Their three eyes on their simple, geometric heads glow baleful green, and their pacification devices are overcharged and hideously deadly. Because of course this would happen. The worst possible thing always happens here.
You bowl through a pile of them, smash through several walls as Sasha bellows her rage, and then collapse several floors into what once was a food court as the floor underneath her gives way. Everything's on fire, but you're safe. Safe as houses! Once you collect yourself, you'll be out of here before smoke inhalation becomes a problem at all--
waaaaaaaooooooow.
***
Jackdaw!
You have a nose for words. Interesting words. Words like ACCESS CORRIDOR -- KEEP OUT. It implies a door that can be locked behind you. You slip through, it's unlocked, and slam the lock shut before the incinerator constructs can catch up, all inner furnace and sparking pilot lights, or worse, more of those armored rats worshiping the dragon. King Dragon. Here in the shape of rails and stones, and too terrible to face.
Lights slam on, one by one, until you see the massive device down at the end of the hallway. It has... a lot of sawblades. And drills. And spiky bits. And it's not moving, but if it started moving, it's the size of the access corridor and there's not a lot of place for you to go, but if you managed to squeeze past, maybe there'd be, like, an engine or a pilot's seat back there? But who are we kidding? This is a terrible place, and if you tried to get in, it'd start up just when you're most vulnerable.
So. Your options are up the corridor (???), down the corridor (sharp knife engine), or back through the door (into the warzone).
***
Ailee and Lucien!
Outside the Hive is chaos. The station is having an acid reflux, the kind that happens when overheated dragons show up inside your tunnels, and now there's actual acid dripping from the ceiling, making a lovely rain for Lucien to dance through. Then there's the gargoyles falling off the ceiling, the weak tiles just waiting to break underfoot, and your lack of any sort of map around here.
If you just hammer your way through the chaos, Ailee, you'll get somewhere interesting, but it won't be your choice. Or you can point Lucien in a direction and trust their Fools' intuition to take you there, but it'll be more difficult for you to avoid the danger; you'll be rolling to Overcome with Despair, but you'll have more say on where you end up.
What's your call?
The worst thing that could happen to a station is for its Central Administration Spine to become corrupt, malfunctioning, alive. Which, of course, is what has happened here, because it must happen. The laws of misfortune and disaster demand nothing less. So you live, and you hate, and you torment those who fall into your clutches-- and now you have indigestion. Impossibly, something has happened to deny you your right to torment and bring disaster onto the heads of those who walk your halls, and now there is the merest sliver of a god of the Heart attempting to worm its way down into you, get its fangs around your spine, and drag you up wailing. If it is careful and clever, it will replace you, and make the station an extension of itself. If it is reckless, it will unmake you, and Wormwood Station's careful knot of misfortune and disaster will collapse and this abscess in reality will be undone, scattering you across the face of the Heart.
And so you roil and rage, and in your rage--
You open locks that cannot be easily closed.
***
Coleman!
Once, all of these old stations were manned by... whoever. Possibly by you kobolds, before you became the people of the trains. But there was a backup, one that you've learned better than to mess with. They were arcane constructs of some sort, powered by crystals and intricate clockwork systems, but misalign a crystal by even a bit and they'd wake up and try to shish-kebab you. So it's best to just leave them in their pods and add some padlocks, just to be sure.
And now they're pouring out of employee doors, marching in uncanny silence save for their ticks and tocks and whirrs. Their three eyes on their simple, geometric heads glow baleful green, and their pacification devices are overcharged and hideously deadly. Because of course this would happen. The worst possible thing always happens here.
You bowl through a pile of them, smash through several walls as Sasha bellows her rage, and then collapse several floors into what once was a food court as the floor underneath her gives way. Everything's on fire, but you're safe. Safe as houses! Once you collect yourself, you'll be out of here before smoke inhalation becomes a problem at all--
waaaaaaaooooooow.
***
Jackdaw!
You have a nose for words. Interesting words. Words like ACCESS CORRIDOR -- KEEP OUT. It implies a door that can be locked behind you. You slip through, it's unlocked, and slam the lock shut before the incinerator constructs can catch up, all inner furnace and sparking pilot lights, or worse, more of those armored rats worshiping the dragon. King Dragon. Here in the shape of rails and stones, and too terrible to face.
Lights slam on, one by one, until you see the massive device down at the end of the hallway. It has... a lot of sawblades. And drills. And spiky bits. And it's not moving, but if it started moving, it's the size of the access corridor and there's not a lot of place for you to go, but if you managed to squeeze past, maybe there'd be, like, an engine or a pilot's seat back there? But who are we kidding? This is a terrible place, and if you tried to get in, it'd start up just when you're most vulnerable.
So. Your options are up the corridor (???), down the corridor (sharp knife engine), or back through the door (into the warzone).
***
Ailee and Lucien!
Outside the Hive is chaos. The station is having an acid reflux, the kind that happens when overheated dragons show up inside your tunnels, and now there's actual acid dripping from the ceiling, making a lovely rain for Lucien to dance through. Then there's the gargoyles falling off the ceiling, the weak tiles just waiting to break underfoot, and your lack of any sort of map around here.
If you just hammer your way through the chaos, Ailee, you'll get somewhere interesting, but it won't be your choice. Or you can point Lucien in a direction and trust their Fools' intuition to take you there, but it'll be more difficult for you to avoid the danger; you'll be rolling to Overcome with Despair, but you'll have more say on where you end up.
What's your call?
