Trollslum Act 1: Welcome to Alternia

[Intern Nin]

>Log on to different account and bother that one guy again.

And we're back to that guy. Looks like his epic struggle with that goddamn fish is already over and he's tying it to the side of the boat. Jegus, look at the size of the sucker! It's bigger than the boat, how did he catch that with just a pole-and-line?

Anyway, since that's done, now would be a good time to na- What's he doing with that hook? Oh, he appears to be plunging into creature's belly and is now yanking out a tangle of its innards and throwing said innards into the water. And all of the fish monster's purple blood is spilling out like one of those small garden waterfalls. Lovely. Okay, enough messing around, lets get this over with. (And no, I don't care that I just ended that sentence with a preposition.)

> Sing a lively troll sea chantey.

Are you kidding? Would you look at him, I seriously don't think he's in a mood for merriment of any kind. Besides, you can't give him commands until you...

>Arf like a walrus and play a saxophone.

The troll has no intention of imitating the cry of your made up animal and there is not a single musical instrument around for miles. AND YOU CAN NOT GIVE ANY COMMANDS LIKE THAT UNTIL HE HAS BEEN PROPERLY NAMED.

>Look at the water churning.

Huh, look at that. The water around the boat really is churning. And there appear to some very large bothria rising out from the watery depths. And a lot of eerie wishpering.

>View underwater.

While it is true that there is but one Gl'Bgolyb on Alternia, there does exist an identical but much smaller species called D'lak'n. They are like motes compared to the genuine Rift's Carbuncle and they can't wipe out entire nations with their voices. Still, they're pretty darn big compared to a small boat, they can drive a person mad if they listen to the call for too long, and their favorite prey happens to be the kind of fish our un-named troll friend just gutted.

Coincidently, they themselves happen to be the favorite prey of Sea Jaguarens. There's always a bigger fish or a larger pack of ferocious marine carnivores as the case may be. Too bad there isn't a few of those things around.

The young Maritime Lifeform Reaper expectorates into the bubbling briney black waters and picks up his trusty pole-and-line. So, what do you think you should do now?

>Go name another troll.

[Amsterdam]

>Name another troll

It is now a bit later and the moons are high in the sky above the humid jungles we visited previously.

You know, where you were very rude?

>Spy on that troll girl again.



It seems she's noticed you. I don't blame her for being wary, you were awfully mean to her earlier.

>Learn about this mysterious lass.

Your name is SRYNXA SORIDA.

You believe yourself to be a skilled ASSASSIN even though you've only ever assassinated the HORRIBLE BEASTS that live in the LUSH JUNGLE surrounding your HIVE. To be fair they are VERY DANGEROUS but they are also PRETTY DUMB. But you are proud of your kills nonetheless.

Your lusus a huge feathered serpent and is KIND OF UNRULY when it comes to strangers, but insists on DOTING UPON YOU CONSTANTLY. He inhabits the branches of the tree your cylindrical HIVE is build around and hunts the many BEASTS of the forest when he's hungry. He is much BETTER at this than you and often brings you disgusting, partially digested leftovers. He can sort of SPEAK, but only through the use of MIMICRY.

It might be worth mentioning that you are ALMOST EXCLUSIVELY CHILLY ALL OF THE TIME and this is reflected in the fact that you are constantly wearing a SCARF, JACKET AND MITTENS. This more than likely due to the lower than normal temperature of your BLOOD.

Despite your love for killing stuff, you are not at all interested in FLARP or any sort of EXTREME ROLE PLAYING. Instead you spend your free time stuffing or reassembling the BONES of your lusus's uneaten kills into MACABRE STATUES that you decorate your hive with, inside and out. This and the fact that you live in the MIDDLE OF NOWHERE and your VICIOUS LUSUS might explain why you never get any visitors. Not that you mind. You are quite social within your group of friends, even though you only ever talk to them via TROLLIAN.

Your Trolltag is halcyonCoils and you sspeak in a manner that'ss quite proper, but ssort of peppered with the accent you picked up from your lussuss.

What should you do?

>Do something interesting.

She fails to do anything interesting for the time being, as there are other trolls who still need introducing. Monopolizing the spotlight would be sso uncouth and downright crassss.

[Geminex]

> Pass on aforesaid spotlight
You search for a troll to pass the spotlight on to.
This one seems good.
You turn your eye to the book-lined RESPITEBLOCK of yet another young troll.
...
Unfortunately, it does not actually contain anyone.

> Seek out troll
You appear to be in some sort of maze, composed entirely of shelves and filing cabinets. Somewhere here is the troll you are searching for. Where will you check?

> Search under TEENAGE TROLL
You are clearly unfamiliar with this hive. The logical place to search is always the last-

> TEENAGE TROLL
Don't say you weren't warned. You look up everything you find under TEENAGE TROLL and carefully examine it. Your findings are-

> Oh god what is this
You have just viewed everything there is to know and experience on the topic of TEENAGE TROLLS. You now know about all the relationships that have been and ever will be. All of them.

> search under something else oh gog QUICKLY
Search under which category?

> ANYTHING
You randomly choose a new keyphrase to search for. The keyphrase is 'NUDE MUSCLEBEAST ART'. You begin examining the data you fin-

> STOPSTOPSTOP
Can't just cancel a search! You've gotta start a new one.

> Search under, helpme, what's safe, what's safe, HATS.
Hats is indeed a safe topic. Nothing mentally scarring to be found under hats! Nope.
Unfortunately you take a wrong turn at shelf 352,5 and emerge in the HUNK RUMP section instead. You stare in awe. That's a lot of material to get through, so better hurry! You begin-

> WHYYYYYYY

-begin examining this potentially valuable information meticulously, your eyes gently, but intensely carressing every detail, your mind eagerly accepting the information delivered to it, as you devote yourself to this unforgettable search. You notice that you may need a towel.

> BRAIN BLEACH. SEARCH UNDER BRAIN BLEACH.
You look at the material filed under brain bleach, ready to sample everything, when you happen upon a young troll! What a wonderful surprise. You wonder what he was doing here.

> SWALLOW BRAIN BLEACH
If you'd like to use an item, you'll have to take it to the front desk and have it checked out by the librarian. But before you can interact with him, you will need to NAME him.

> Sob gently
There there. Now how about that name? Make it a good one.

>GLISTENING RUMPS_
Try again.


>SWEATY BEASTS_
Single-minded, aren't you?


> RELATIONSHIP CLUSTERFUCKS_
You'll never get that brain bleach at this rate. Come on, forget all of that. You can do it!


>SCALIS LECTOR
Well done! The young troll is pleased. Now, about those HUNK RUMP issues you wanted to check out...?

>ABSCOND

[The SSB Intern]

> Abscond.
You have successfully absconded. You now face the looming visage of the communal stem. From atop the penthive suite, a gaunt figure peers down upon you. The howl of the eastern wind, the screech of the ongoing construction, even the commanding voice of your own mind seem to be driven away at the sight of this troll.

A moment passes. She walks away from the window.

> What the hell's that noise?
The chilling sound of ragtime pierces the air. Or wait... no, that's big band music.. I think. I don't even know, it's like...rag band?...

> End that racket this instant.
You go up to her hovel to give that harpy a piece of your mind. You find the troll girl busying herself with some minor adjustments to her PENNY-FARTHING. Her bowler hat and vest suit are completely inappropriate for such a task. She looks up as you enter, her eyes tiny and dark, like two drops of obsidian. She wasn't expecting visitors, yet remains nonplussed.

> Address this vapid vamp.
You can't do that because you haven't named her!

> Enter name.
HIPSTER SCU_

Just then, a manchilla leaps from out of your peripheral and performs an INCREDIBLY SHAMEFUL JIG.

>...
You are now VINTAG SOCIUS and your feathers are ruffled beyond belief. Vicki always pulls this crap with company over. You apologize profusely to your guest, and then begin a needless exposition.

>Expose it all.
Looking around your hive, it's surprising that your lusus is the only thing that embarrasses you. Film posters from the silent era cascade waves of gray-scale on the walls. Back in those times, speaking in a movie was considered highly treasonous under Alternian Law and any perpetrator was sentenced to a brutal execution. The penalty was later lessened to a severe beating and some jail time.

Your kitchen has been painstakingly demolished to resemble a RUNDOWN, GREASY DINER. In it, you make an assortment of flapjacks, ham hocks, and omelets, but mostly omelets.

Your PENNY-FARTHING is right beside you, of course. It serves as your primary means of transportation and general awesomeness. Your custodian, Vicki Minchilla, the Talking Manchilla, rides in back when the two of you go out to clubs to perform as a GUT-BUSTING COMEDY DUO.

Vicki is indisputably your closest companion, but he gets a little irritating now and again. You're always willing to talk to your other friends via Trollian. Your Trolltag is burlesqueBalderdash and you O>o communicate in a rapid staccato STOP

What now?

> Stumble upon new troll.

[POS Industries]

>Stumble upon new troll_

And stumble you do, because it is fucking dark in here. Whoever the occupant of this particular respiteblock is, they sure aren't into turning on a light. In fact, the only two sources of illumination are the sunlight peeking through tattered blackout curtains and the glow of a computer monitor across the block, casting numerous impenetrable shadows about the walls. From what you can see, the place is a mess. An apparently uninhabited mess.

The only friendly face is a small statuette among a pile of other figures and dolls, all seemingly broken and torn apart by something. But this one statuette seems to be doin' fine. What a happy looking fellow he is, apparently some sort of idol likened in the image of an obscure religious sect devoted to the worship of clowns of a grim persuasion which may not be in full possession of their mental faculties. And this particular one even has a nice little suit! No wonder he has such a big ol' grin on face andOHSHIT!

Some sort of thrown weapon--curiously shaped like one of the planet's nocturnal fauna--spins out of the shadows and through the face of the clown statuette, shattering it to pieces! Its course curves backward, and you follow it back to its source, a young troll lurking in the darkness, wearing a black cape and cowl, through which his long, thin horns poke straight up through on either side of his head. Who could this mysterious person be?

>Enter name_

FATFUCK MCNERDBURGER

His eyes narrow behind the mask, clearly unimpressed with your naming acumen. Perhaps a more suitable alternative is in order.

PERMAVIRGIN WEDGIEBA///

One of his bizarre boomerangs slices through the name input window! Are you dense? Are you retarded or something?

>Enter goddamn name_

Your name is BALLAA DEHIAN.

You are an avid fan of ILLUSTRATED SERIALIZED PERIODICALS, particularly those involving EXCEPTIONAL HEROIC TROLLS OF VARYING SPECIAL ABILITIES. Your all-time favorite, however, is the NOCTURNAL WINGEDRAT VIGILANTE, who has no extraodinary powers beyond his own WILL, INGENUITY, AND PREPAREDNESS. So much do you look up to this heroic troll that you strive everyday to be just like him, donning a HOMEMADE REPLICA COSTUME and training ever so hard to live up to your idol.

Sadly, you are not very good at it, as your ability to intimidate the SUPERSTITIOUS AND COWARDLY LOT leaves much to be desired, you are absolutely terrible at maintaining a SECRET IDENTITY, and you possess neither the VAST FORTUNE of the Vigilante's superior bloodcaste, the GENIUS INTELLECT, the many years of DISCIPLINED TRAINING, nor a MAJOR METROPOLITAN HIVEBLOCK in which to patrol. To make matters worse, you are of the rare breed of troll capable of braving the light of the HARSH ALTERNIAN SUN, and as a result you don't like to stay up too late otherwise you just feel groggy all day.

Still, the honing of your DETECTIVE SKILLS is coming along nicely and you boast an IMPRESSIVE HEARING ABILITY.

Your trolltag is vengefulRodentia and you speak in a... haltingly GRUFF and... INTENSE... goddamn bat-manner.

What will you do?

>Abscond into the shadows and be another troll_

[Aldurin]

You try to be Aldurin, but he instantly rejects you and the best you can do is approach him in his hive. He appears to be very busy working on something. You figure you might as well call him a name since you didn't get the chance earlier.

NERDY MCNERDFACE OF NERD-oh shit he heard that

Aldurin turns around, his lab coat swishing behind him and he does his best to scare you off.



The psychotic look combined with the circuits in his shoes shooting sparks causes you to quickly abscond.

>Find a troll that'll continue the damn series of events

[Bard The 5th LW]

>Find a troll that'll continue the damn series of events

We return to the original troll from the start. The view pans out from the cliffside near Aldurin and trudges its way over to the biting snow and cold of the ALTERNIAN POLAR CAPS. Underneath the ice and snow, in the still waters, we enter the large stately manner of the aquatic aristocrat. A huge MANTA RAY with serated fins patrols the area around it, but you are ignored as you zoom inwards.

She appears to have calmed down now, and is standing in a large ART STUDIO in the bottom of the hive. She is surrounded by BOWLS of paint, spanning many colors.

How about we actually describe her appearance now? Her horns twist around three times before ending in thin, sharp points. Her black hair reaches down her shoulders in the back and her bangs obscure most of her forehead as well. She carried the typical light gray skin of most nautical trolls along with two gills. She wears a very messy art smock, splattered with colors. If one squinted really hard, that could see a very faded visage of a snowflake on it. Otherwise, she is wearing a long black skirt, and a purple beret sits between her two horns. What is this girl's name then? Be polite this time.

>Enter name

IDIO-

The name is rejected pre-emptively.

>Fine then, enter new name.

Your name is GLISSA VIERTH.

You have a variety of INTERESTS. You fancy yourself quite an artist. You try not to be trapped by mediocrity though, and instead strive for greatness. How you manage to accomplish this task underwater is an enigma to all. You alsoenjoy carving sculptures from the large chunks of ICE around your hive. Its always cold here, so they never melt. You decide to turn in on painting for the day and head upstairs.

On the first floor of the MANOR you find the other objects of your intrigue. You are a passionate collector and connoisseur of many ANTIQUES, RELICS, and ARTIFACTS of the past. You would never go out and get them by yourself of course, that would be much too dangerous. However, you are willing to pay top dollar and barter vigorously with the many ADVENTURERS and FLARPERS who come across these lost treasures. It is with these assortment of items you run a sort of makeshift MUSEUM inside of your hive. You only get guests rarely though. Some of these nic-nacs are indeed CHEAP PIECES OF SHIT, but unbeknown to you, many of them are WEAPONS AND DOOMSDAY DEVICES of the ancients. They were presumably left behind by NEGLECTFUL PRECURSORS to spite the children of Alternia's future.

Some of these items are rather subtle in design, like the RHYTHMIC CLOCKWORK CARRIER, a large system of cogs and gears that power enough instruments to constitute a full band. If you looked deeper inside of the machine, you would find that the fanciful music box actually contains a mutated strain of the deadly TROLL PLAGUE, though to wiped out, hidden inside a vial within the engine. One press of a button from the detonator is all it takes to have the virus emitted from the trumpets. Fortunately, the switch is missing, and one would have to fish it out manually.

Others are really more obvious though. One example of this is BEAUFORT'S BLUTSAUGER, which is a large weapon in the shape of a shotgun. You keep it locked up in a glass display case under lock and key. You believe it to be broken, but it is actually in full working order. The bloodshed that could occur if it happened to fall into the wrong hands would be incredible.

Anyways, this is getting boring. You decide to head outside as the camera zooms off to view someone else.

>Someone else do something else.

[Overcast]

Glissa: Be Hearts Boxcars.

You are now Leraje.

He seems to have escaped his watery fate, though not without being a little bit soaked. The ensuing battle was probably pretty cool. If the author had any drawing skills it would have been a doozy of an underwater showdown. With swinging chains and shooting tongues, and amputation. Just imagine that. Imagine it animated. With adventurous music in the background.

...

Oh yeah, that would have been sweet.

>Examine Leraje

A relatively thin troll, he has a pair of pure black eyes that make it difficult to tell exactly what he is looking at along with a pair of half framed glasses. He is wearing a grey zip up hoody, with a pair of holes for his horns, relatively short and shooting back on his head. He has a black shirt under the hoody with a strange alien symbol, which supposedly deals, in a complicated way, with a strange alien emotion called friendship. His pants and boots are also black. He is currently missing one of his arms.

Oh wait, there it is.

>Examine amputated arm.

Chewing on the arm is a gigantic salamander, who is currently missing his tail. This is Seymour. He's Leraje's lusus, and he is fond of attacking him when he least expects it in order to keep him on his toes. He is otherwise nice enough, and fairly low maintenance.

Leraje: Get trolled by technopathicalAnomaly

Show PesterlogtechnopathicalAnomaly [TA] began trolling absentPsychologist [AP]
TA: I'vE gOt thIs rObObIOnIcs prOjEct
TA: wAnt tO trY A prOtOtYpE Arm?
AP: Fuck you and die.
absentPsychologist [AP] blocked technopathicalAnomoly [TA]


You wonder why that guy still tries to talk to you. After he falsified a pail to the Imperial Drones, and had the gall to murder one he has been on your shitlist. Beyond relative redemption, and ever on the plotomoeter for horrible death. He knows you feel this way, because every time he tries to talk to you it pretty much goes exactly like that. And yet he persists! MADDENING!

Uh oh...where did Seymour go?

====>

Oh man those two are at it again. Better leave them to their epic battle to look at someone else...don't you give me that look. Be somebody else.

[Menarker]

> Be somebody else.

Your INCREDIBLY INAPPROPRIATE headwear should cause immense embarressment and shame to ANYONE. But YOU, are unflinchingly unabashed by the SHEER PERVERSITY of wearing the tool of procreation atop your CRANIUM, much to the BLUSHING DISMAY of trolls anywhere in your immediate VICINITY! You merely SMIRK exceedingly as you point to all sorts of joyous ODDITIES! Your HORNS curiously stem from the REAR of your head DESCENDING until it is a bit more than SHOULDER length! Not a troublesome issue unless someone pushes BACKWARDS ON TOP of them. But any Troll worth their horns know how much of a social faux pas THAT would be...

You have a few INTERESTS, but the one that takes up most of your time is being a PACKRAT! Anything SHINY, ODDLY SHAPED or remotely USEFUL is instantly claimed and stored into your VAST COLLECTION. But you don't stop there. Oh No. With your keen insight in TRADING, you barter, haggle and wrangle to the affections and veneration of trolls everywhere, using trinkets and pretty words to bend their will to pawn their precious portions of their own collection over to you. When you aren't searching your neighborhood for discarded "RECYCLABLES", you diligently organize your inventory within your spacious hive custom built to stash your paraphernalia, and the dubious ARTWORK of your lumbering ape-like rent-demanding CUSTODIAN, Ayres. You don't play games often, but if invited, you do find the occasional act of FLARPING enjoyable. Your shirt has a SYMMETRICAL symbol, which he assures you represents MULTIPLICATION, which is fitting given the increasing size of your stash in a regular basis.




Your trolltag is butketHed and you speak fluently but expressively with emotioncons and esciplises... =P

What name, will you tell customers, belongs this outrageously bold trafficker?

> Enter Name:

Obscene Pornking

You smirks with a wry grin, nodding your head but contradictorily wagging your index finger. Try again.

Perfidious Vendor

You scowl at the libelous allegation with a barely veiled intent to do grievious wanton infliction of taxing punishments...

Sharl Welatrotter

In your head, you suddenly hear a brief but charming egg-timer chime as if in grand approval. SHARL WELATROTTER. SEVEN SOLARSWEEPS OLD.

What will you do?


> Go foraging for new inventory for your business "Craglist"

A CAPITAL idea! As wonderful a dream it would be to endlessly go DOOR TO DOOR, selling breathtaking and precious goods for EQUITABLE and ENVIABLE PREMIUM, the reality is that inventory worth selling don't just fall out of the sky!


> Be someone else...

[Arcanum]

Sharl: Be Potted Plant

You are now a potted plant. Your interests include PHOTOSYNTHESIS and ABSORBING NUTRIENTS with your ROOTS. What will you do?

> Photosynthesize

You successfully PHOTOSYNTHESIZE. You gain SUGAR. You release OXYGEN.

> Ok this is dumb.

A shadow is now blocking the light. You fail to PHOTOSYNTHESIZE. You need more NATURAL LIGHT.

> Potted Plant: Be something interesting.

You are now Rektek. You have recently regained consciousness. What will you do?

> Make a memo

You are pretty bored and eagerly awaiting the start of a MYSTERIOUS NEW GAME. You decide to organize a bulletin board so that all your friends can get excited about this new game together, instead of getting excited in private conversations. You sit down in front of your HUSKTOP and create a new BULLETIN BOARD with an AWESOME NAME.

Show Pesterlog
eloquentOrchestrator [EO] RIGHT NOW opened public linear bulletin board Musical Rumpus Dance Party
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
EO RIGHT NOW opened memo on board Musical Rumpus Dance Party
EO: | Right looks like this | is all set up | I fig-ured we | should start one of | these lit-tle things | e-ven-tua-ly |
EO: | So why not get | star-ted talk-ing | to each oth-er | be-fore jump-ing | right in-to this | brand new game thing |
EO: | What was the name? |
EO: | Oh yeah SGRUB right? |
EO: | T-A is it | you who's wor-king | on ma-king it? | I know you love | your com-pu-ters |
EO: | Well an-y-way | I can't wait to | start play-ing with | all of you guys |
EO: | Uh-oh I can | hear my lu-sus | get-ting up-set |
EO: | Be back real soon |

You hear a noise coming from downstairs. It sounds like profound sorrowful sigh. Your lusus must be worried about something.

> Investigate lusus

You leave your RESPITE BLOCK and enter a long hallway with several doors leading to other rooms. These rooms contain various MUSICAL INSTRUMENTS but you tend to keep your favorites in your respite block. You enter the first door on your right, which leads to a staircase, and head downstairs to your lusus' room. You reach the bottom and open the door to the largest room in your hive.

> Examine room

The room takes up half of the lower level of your hive. The wall behind you and the ceiling are flat, but the far walls are as curved as the outer walls of your Hive, which is a good thing considering they ARE the outer walls of your Hive. Upon closer inspection you notice the floor of the room is covered with MAJESTIC WHITE SAND that was brought to your hive through the laborious efforts of dozens of CARPENTER DRONES from various MAJESTIC BEACHES. Also, a large portion of the room seems to have been flooded with PRISTINE PURE WATER. This would be a cause for concern if the flooding wasn't intentionally. It is clear this room was designed specifically for the comfort of your lusus.

Speaking of which, your lusus, an extremely large turtle with a spiked shell, is currently lounging on the MAKESHIFT BEACH. This is odd because usually your lusus tends to lounge in the water. This is particularly worrisome because your lusus is very SENSITIVE TO ITS ENVIRONMENT and could possibly DIE if any DRASTIC CHANGES were to suddenly occur.

> Name lusus

Do you really think it's an appropriate time for that? Your lusus is obviously in severe discomfort.

> Name lusus "Shelly"

If it will move this along then fine, you have names your lusus "Shelly"

> See what's wrong with Shelly

It is rather obvious what is wrong with Shelly, she's not lounging in the water.

> Examine water

You approach the shore and are immediately accosted by an EEL OF UNFAVORABLE INTENTIONS. The little bulge biter must have slipped in through the filtration system. Its ELECTRIC SHOCK DEFENSES are probably what stopped Shelly from dealing with the problem herself.

> Prepare to STRIFE

You hum a brief excerpt of ahaunting piano refrain and retrieve your PORTABLE KEYBOARD WITH BUILT-IN SPEAKERS from your SYLLADEX.

STRIFE

>> AGGRIEVE

You don't have a weapon allocated to your STRIFE SPECIBUS and cannot AGGRIEVE.

> Play an epic battle song on PORTABLE KEYBOARD

You start slamming your fists onto random keys. You're too busy tuning your PSYCHIC RESONANCE to the SOUND WAVES to worry about playing an actual song. The resulting shock wave sends the EEL flying across the room where it slams into the far wall, reducing it to a bloody paste. Fortunately the mess is right above one of the many filters and won't contaminate the water. Unfortunately the wall gains all the experience from the kill.

WALL LEVELS UP!!!
The WALL climbs to the rank of STURDY PROTECTION BARRIER on its ECHELADDER.

Shelly heaves an appreciative sigh and makes her way back to the water.

> Return to your room

With your job finished you return your PORTABLE KEYBOARD to your SYLLADEX by playing three quick notes and make your way back to your room.

Whatever happens next will probably be extremely boring in comparison to the previous battle. Better go check in with someone else until something interesting happens again.