Ultraviolet Odyssey Part 5

This is the fifth part of a solo, narrative campaign within the Ultraviolet Grasslands RPG setting, created by Luka Rejec. The text was generated by the Chat GPT large language model, plus Sudowrite, with multiple generations and further responses spliced together and edited. Some of prompts to generate the text were taken from the UVG sourcebook and/or fan materials. UVG and the Vastlands setting are  the intellectual property of Luka Rejec. This campaign log is unaffiliated with either WTF Studio or Luka Rejec.

The adventurers Karnelia di’Orca, Jalosti i’Grati and Arcia Bodizie are travelling through the Azure Ruins on their way to the Violet City.

Karnelia di'Orca is a tall and slender figure, with long dark hair and piercing eyes. She wears a flowing red robe adorned with intricate golden embroidery, and carries a staff topped with a blood-red crystal. A single black vertebra is visible at the base of her neck, marking her as a member of the secretive wine vampire order.

Jalosti i'Grati is a short and stocky purple-skinned young wizard, with a wild mane of hair and a bushy beard. He wears a flowing purple robe, and rides a machine horse that shimmers with shades of rust and metal. In his hand, he holds a staff of polished black wood, etched with arcane symbols.

Arcia Bodizie is a rugged and weather-beaten Safranjina, with a scar running down her cheek and a patch over one eye. She is dressed in a patchwork of scavenged clothing, with a long, flowing coat of dark blue and a bandana tied around her head. She carries a curved sword at her side, a sign of her status as an exiled pirate. A small furry mutant vole sits perched on her shoulder, giggling at anyone who pets it.

Soundtrack: 'Patient Number 9', Ozzy Osbourne.

Chapter 11

The journey through the scrubland of the Potsherd Crater was long and arduous. The heat was oppressive, and the adventurers had to navigate their way through winding trails, rocky outcrops, and dense thickets. Along the way, they encountered various strange creatures, including loping albino jackals and shimmering mirage snakes.

The adventurers were thankful for the presence of the Porcelain Princes and their great porcelain walker, the shade of which served as a welcome respite from the scorching sun. The massive machine towered above them, its elegant legs striding across the barren landscape with ease. The Princes, however, were not particularly hospitable hosts. They were a conservative group of polybody wizards, known for their ability to synchronize their various bodies using glandular links. They were also notorious for their snobbery and disdain for outsiders, which made their company somewhat insufferable.

Despite their poor attitude, the Princes knew the way to the Porcelain Citadel, so the adventurers were forced to put up with them. As they trudged through the parched landscape, the Princes regaled the adventurers with tales of their grand exploits and accomplishments, but they paid little attention to the needs of their companions. Jalosti, nonetheless, studied them with a keen eye, determined to learn all he could from these masterful sorcerers. From talking to the slave porters, the group had discovered that the three Princes were a single collective referred to as Jaun Luque 3-Team. He was keen to persevere, despite the arduous nature of the journey, and reach the famous Porcelain Citadel. Arcia, however, scowled at the Princes' treatment of their porters, but remained silent for fear of causing a rift.

Eventually, the landscape changed from the dusty scrubland to a more verdant terrain, with fields of flowering tubers, verdant mouse-trees and babbling brooks. This fertile terrain gave way, in turn, to the grasses of the Ultraviolet steppe.

As the adventurers made their way across the steppe, they encountered a group of Lime Nomads, shepherding their flocks to better grazing grounds. The nomads were wary of the adventurers at first, but after some negotiation and the exchange of a few of the group’s fast-depleting supply of coins, they were willing to provide them with food for their journey. The nomads were a proud and hardy people, accustomed to living in the harsh and unforgiving environment of the steppe. Jalosti enquired about the charms and amulets they wore with a scholar’s curiosity, and the nomads were in turn fascinated by the student wizard’s account of the Cat Lords of the Violet City.  The nomads kept their distance from the Porcelain Walker, however. ‘Body takers,’ said one, gesturing subtly towards the Princes as they picnicked.

Half a week later, the adventurers were suddenly ambushed by a pack of crawling nettle plants. The plants were semi-ambulatory, using their long, spiny tendrils to move across the ground with surprising speed. They tried to grasp anyone within reach with their sharp, barbed leaves.

Karnelia was nearly enveloped by the plants, her pale skin prickling with their sharp thorns. The nettles’ vines heir writhed and twisted as they lunged at the other adventurers. Jalosti's Flames of the Unforgiven Arsonist spell spluttered out, unable to ignite the damp vegetation. Arcia hacked at the plants with her sword, her muscles straining as she fought alongside Glim to keep the vindictive plants at bay. The plants continued to crawl and attack, their thorns lashing out at the adventurers with deadly precision.

Despite their best efforts, the adventurers were no match for the nettles. But just as they were about to be overwhelmed, one of Jaun Luque 3-Team’s bodies stepped forward on the viewing platform of the Walker, brandishing a high calibre game rifle. With a sharp crack, he fired at the heart of the nettle bush, blowing it apart in a shower of leaves. Arcia and Glim made short work of the remaining tendrils.

"Well, I suppose we couldn't leave you to be devoured by those vile plants," the Porcelain Prince sneered, lowering his rifle. “But try not to be a liability again in future. We're merely tolerating your presence on our journey to the Porcelain Citadel. You should have thought of the dangers before you left the Rainbowlands. But I suppose it's too late to turn back now. Just make sure to keep up and don't cause any more trouble."

"We'll do our best, Prince," Arcia said, gritting her teeth. "We'll try not to be a burden on your group."

"See that you do," the Prince said, turning away and climbing back onto the Great porcelain walker. "Now, let's move on. We've wasted enough time on these foolish adventurers."

As the sun began to set, the adventurers set up camp for the evening. Karnelia sat off to the side, rubbing salve onto the painful nettle wounds that covered her skin.

Arcia joined her, pulling out a small flask of wine that she had swiped from the disastrous party at Satrasco’s. "Here, this will help take the edge off the pain," she said, offering the flask to Karnelia. Although it was a fruity Greenlander wine rather than the rich elixir of the Redlands, it was an excellent vintage and Karnelia appreciated the gesture.

As the adventurers sat around the campfire, Glim stared into the flames, lost in thought. After a moment, he spoke up, his voice low and gravelly.

"I used to be a Cogflower executioner," he said, his eyes fixed on the fire. "I carried out countless executions, taking the lives of those deemed unworthy by the banker-priests. I did what I was told, without question or hesitation. I thought I was serving a higher purpose, the noble goals of the Cogflower hierarchy."

The other adventurers stared at Glim in shock, unsure of how to react.

"But then I realized the futility of it all," Glim continued. " The things I was asked to do...they were heinous, immoral. I couldn't keep taking lives without question. So… I fled, running from my past."

"We don't judge you, Glim," Karnelia said, reaching out to touch his arm. "We're all running from something. It's what we do with our present and future that matters."

Glim nodded, a faint smile crossing his lips. "Thank you," he said quietly. "I'm grateful to have found companions like you on this journey."

The adventurers sat in silence for a moment, each lost in their own thoughts.

In the morning, Glim was gone.

Chapter 12

The adventurers followed Jaun Luque 3-Team and his entourage of slaves along the dusty roads of the steppe, travelling for several days. With Glim gone, Karnelia took up the lead as the group made their way towards the Porcelain Citadel. The trail stretched on through the monotonous landscape of tufty grass and scrubby bushes until the perfect ramparts of the castle finally came into view.

The Porcelain Citadel loomed in the distance, a great ivory-colored fist standing proud against the horizon, it's index and little finger outstretched in defiance of the gods. Behind its impressive façade, an entire civilization had sprung up around the Citadel. Pale buildings of all kinds clustered around it on a hilltop overlooking twin lakes. They could see other long-legged Walkers moving with uncanny grace among the low buildings at the foot of the hill. Around the perimeter stood a series of anthropomorphic towards facing towards the steppe, their eyes glowing with ferocity.

The adventurers continued on to the city, passing through an orchard of strange trees. The trunks were tall and slender, and the branches hung heavy with ripe red fruits that glowed with eerie blue foxfire in the waning daylight. Karnelia recognized them immediately - they were Cherenkov cherries, a delicacy found only in this part of the world. She had heard tales of these strange trees, but seeing them in person was a fascinating experience. The orchard was alive with birdsong and a distant choir of murmurs coming from the city beyond.

Passing through the orchard, they walked past the massive torsos bodies of one of the great guardian stone golems. The adventurers stopped in awe at the sight of the immense and imposing golems, their huge stone bodies standing sentinel around the perimeter of the city. Karnelia felt a chill run through her veins as she realized the ancient power that the Porcelain Princes still possessed.

The adventurers followed Jaun Luque 3-Team past the defense golems towards the edge of the settlement. A four-legged Walker was waiting for them on the outskirts. Standing on the Walker's balcony were seven robed figures wearing white ceramic masks that were shaped like stylized human faces. The masks were painted with intricate patterns, and colorful gemstones were inset on the cheeks and foreheads. They stood in a line; solemn and still, with their hands raised to greet Jaun Luque 3-Team. There was a regal air to their presence, as if they had been expecting their arrival. The seven figures raised their hands in greeting and introduced themselves.

"Welcome, Jaun," spoke the chorus, its voice a raspy whisper that seemed to echo across the wasteland. "It has been far too long since we last met."

Jaun Luque 3-Team nodded, the porcelain masks of the trinity that composed him glinting in the harsh sunlight. "Indeed it has, my dearest Sherd 7-Extension. To what do I owe the honor of an encounter with such an esteemed member of the Ageless Society?"

"I have come to seek your help, Jaun. You see, I have always dreamed of returning to a time before the monobodies were allowed into the Radiant Lands. I believe that if we could turn back the clock to the great and golden era of the early Citadel, we could restore the balance of power and prevent the apocalypse that has befallen us."

"How do you propose return to such a time, Sherd? Such a feat seems impossible."

Sherd chuckled, a dry, rasping sound that sent shivers down the spines of the onlookers on the ground beneath the Walkers. "Nothing is impossible, my dear 3-Team. The days of monobodies arrogantly strutting about our noble and hallowed lands are surely numbered.”

Sparing a disdainful glance at Karnelia, Jalosti and Arcia, they continued.

“The monobodies are nothing but tools, Jaun. They were created for a specific purpose, and once that purpose is served, they are disposable. You would do well to remember that.”

With that, Sherd 7-Extension’s walker carried the polybody oligarch away from the group.

All that was left was the lingering feeling of dread in the air. Karnelia, Jalosti and Arcia looked at each other in confusion.

"What have we gotten ourselves into, Jalosti?" asked Arcia. Porcelain Princes rarely ventured as far as Safranj, she had only heard rumors of the powerful steppe biomancers.

Jalosti smiled nervously. He had been fascinated by the Porcelain Princes for as long as he could remember, but hadn't anticipated their severe snobbery and prejudice. The encounter had left him shaken.

"The Porcelain Princes are not-quite-liches," he explained, nervously. "They seek immortality, just like those ancient wizards. But they have discovered an approach for distributing their consciousness between multiple bodies. The mind-to-mind links are maintained through a glandular mechanism. To guarantee the transfer of their psychological essence across the ages, they periodically add new bodies to their group. The bodies are often... acquired through commercial means."

Jalosti saw Arcia's mortified expression.

"The biomantic techniques involved in maintaining polybody consciousness are...erm... fascinating," he finished weakly, glancing at the ground to avoid her gaze.

"We need to be careful in this city," Karnelia interjected. "The Porcelain Princes have ruled this part of the steppe for a long time, and I'm sure they won't take kindly to intruders."

Noticing the conference among the three, Jaun Luque 3-Team called down to the adventurers. "Pay old Sherd no mind. They claim to be one of the original Princes, and they may well be. Along with the others in the Ageless Society, they dream of days gone by, failing to realise that monobodies can be quite useful in their own right and that we have little to fear."

With a curt, synchronised nod, their travel companion bid them adieu before his tripodal Walker glided away on slender ceramic legs.

"Don't worry, Karnelia," replied Jacosti, recovering his confidence somewhat. "We'll be fine as long as we mind our manners and don't cause any trouble."

Arcia snorted. "Easier said than done with these stuck-up elitists. They think they're better than everyone else just because they've managed to keep their bodies alive for centuries."

The three adventurers made their way through the Lower Line, where slaves and outlanders were permitted to dwell. As they walked through the township, the adventurers noticed the weathered faces of its inhabitants, their eyes sunken in and hollow. They noticed the broken buildings, dirty-boarded up windows and the oppressive silence that hung in the air like a funeral dirge. The adventurers felt a deep sense of rage bubbling up inside them at the sight of such obvious poverty and neglect. Surreptitious glances and hushed whispers that followed them. They were outsiders, and it was clear that they were not welcome here. But they were determined to explore the Lower Line and see for themselves the reality of life under the rule of the Porcelain Princes. They continued on their way, taking care to avoid the more dangerous-looking areas of the township.

"This place is depressing," Arcia muttered, shaking her head. "I don't know how these people stand it."

"It's not easy, that's for sure," Karnelia replied, her voice laced with sadness. "But they have no choice. They're trapped here, at the mercy of the Porcelain Princes."

As they walked, they encountered a group of slaves huddled together in a corner, their faces etched with fear and desperation. Karnelia approached them, her dark hair flowing like spilt wine behind her as she reached out a hand in comfort.

"What's wrong?" she asked softly.

One of the slaves opened their mouths to answer, but stopped in fear. The adventurers turned, and saw a pair of strange figures approaching them. It was a double-bodied Porcelain Prince, clad in rich robes of white and gold. His two sets of eyes seemed to glitter with an otherworldly light. The polybody wizard was flanked by a black-clad surgeon, carrying a leather satchel on his chest like a shield.

"I am Bone Kaolin 2-Body, and this is my assistant Mr. Creavain," the Porcelain Prince said, his voice smooth and oily. "We have come to collect a tribute from the slaves of this township. You will kindly step aside, so that we may do our business."

It was clear that the Porcelain Prince was not to be trifled with.

"We will pay the tribute," Arcia said, her voice firm as she stepped in front of the slaves. "We cannot allow these people to be robbed of their rightful property."

Bone Kaolin 2-Body laughed, and the sound sent a chill down the adventurers' spines.

"I see that you have pretensions of nobility, but I am afraid that this is a toll that cannot be paid in coin. I am a celebrant of the hallowed Ascendant Church of Flesh and I am here to assert the ancient right to a supplicant from the Lower Line, who will join me in union."

The adventurers glanced at each other in horror. Kaarnelia had heard of the Church of Flesh: it was an old death cult that was thought to be extinct by theological authorities in the Rainbowlands.  They were known for their gruesome rituals and their use of disposable bodies in their rituals.

Bone Kaolin 2-Body stepped forward, his gaze sweeping over the trembling figures clustered in the corner. He pointed imperiously at one.

"You," he said. "You will come with us. It is your destiny."

Mr. Creavain stepped forward to grab the cowering wretch.

"No!" Karnelia shouted, her voice ringing through the alleyways. "We won't allow it! These people have suffered enough under your rule, we won't stand idly by while you take one of them!"

"Ah, a valiant attempt," Bone Kaolin 2-Body replied, a mocking sneer on his face. "But I'm afraid that I must insist. Now, if you would be so kind as to step aside."

Arcia drew her cutlass. "Even if it means risking our lives, we will not stand by and watch as these people are taken against their will."

Bone Kaolin 2-Body stared at the adventurers in disbelief. They had expected to meet with resistance from the slaves, but not from these outsiders.

"Very well. These starvelings would make poor supplicants in any case. The Lower Line surely has many superior specimens. But remember, we Porcelain Princes are not to be trifled with. You would do well to watch your tongue and your actions while in our domain.  I warn you, if you cross me again there you will regret it. Indeed, you will regret it intensely and at length, begging for the blessed release of Ascension."

With that Bone Kaolin retreated into the throng of the Lower Line. Mr. Crevain performed a deep, ironic bow toward the adventurers before pivoting to accompanying his master.

The adventurers quickly turned and walked away, their hearts racing with fear and disgust.