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>    I  do  not  know how I know DeCorticus. Just as they are not
     aware of how long they have ruled, Click Clack does not know
     how long they have been a servant, an advisor (in  all  mat-
     ters  astrological), or under their protection. What is sure
     is that during his long life Click Clack has put his life on
     line for DeCorticus multiple times, resulting in the  broken
     state  he is in by now. And DeCorticus was grateful, extend-
     ing the hand of their protection over the machine now called
     Click Clack by the locals of Plandra, even though  they  did
     not  even  remember  their  original names anymore. For what
     it's worth Click Clack has been living on  a  small  pension
     for  longer than anyone can remember, definitely longer than
     most peoples' lifetimes. Click Clack  feels  like  accepting
     the  mission  might  be  a  death  sentence. They would much
     rather like to stay in the safety  of  their  existence  for
     however  long  it  would take. But it is clear that with the
     death of DeCorticus Click Clack also might come  to  an  end
     not that long after.


                                 ~


>    Quack  speaks  as  if  talking to himself. His voice is low,
     brittle ...
          "Forever I'll be honored your Majesty.   Quack  can  be
     counted  on,  even  in  most  delicate affairs.  Have I ever
     failed you?  Certainly I've enjoyed that certain  ...  immu-
     nity ... provided by Your Honor". He snickers hoarsly.
          Then  he  looks  down at his scarred hands, and makes a
     wringing motion. His expression turns into an abyss of  sad-
     ness  "I  don't  remember  when I've ever asked for right or
     wrong ... this time I'll do right ... I've nothing to lose!"
          A small lump of mud drips from the rim of his hat  down
     onto  the floor.  A tiny leech wriggles for a moment, before
     Quack picks it up carefully and puts it onto a piece of dank
     moss he's holding in his left hand. He utters becalming, but
     incomprehensible noises.


                                 ~


>    "The weapon you have sent for has  arrived,"  announces  the
     butler. Behind him moves one of these yellow figures in bil-
     lowing red trousers, leather armor wrappings around arms and
     tummy,  a  silver  sword, bow and arrows on its back, silver
     tongue in its mouth, eyes glowing green, teeth filed, black-
     ened, engraved, long hair tied together.
          "DeCorticus, I have rested  and  recovered  after  that
     mission  into  the  scorpion  hell hole. My masters tell me,
     that my skills might be required. I am here, once more."  As
     soon as the voice stops, its eyes start steaming.  "You know
     that  I  would  never fail you, for when I was found in that
     moss hole you had me brought to my masters and raised  as  a
     weapon. All that I have become I owe to you."
          As  Law listens to the words the plant speaks, it nods.
     "I accept this mission. Once I would have hoped to find love
     in Plandra; or children to teach; or friends. But I left all
     of that behind. I leave behind all hope and will  travel  to
     The  Wall  in  order  to find that Star Loam for you. I will
     succeed or all we know here in Plandra will perish. All  the
     established  order  will  be  swept  away  and that can't be
     good." Its carefully neutral face doesn't move.


                                 ~


Being in in the presence of the duke is more like standing  in  a
greenhouse or in a courtyard garden than it is being in the pres-
ence  of a man or singular entity: it surrounds you.  It is above
and beneath you.  It crawls along the walls of its  chambers  and
grows in bushels and shrubs.  It smells of damp, rich soil and of
thick vegetation.  You breathe it in and it buzzes in your head.
     With  its three must trusted associates and, indeed, closest
and oldest friends assembled, DeCorticus sighs heavily.  A  sound
like  rustling leaves and creaking branches.  Its fronds and ten-
drils tremble.  Already its green leaves and shoots  starting  to
brown  around the edges and shrivel slightly.  Truly DeCorticus's
days are numbered unless a fresh supply of Star Loam can  be  es-
tablished.
     "Thank  you, my dear friends," it rustle whispers, its voice
seeming to emanate from the thick vegetation on all sides of you.
"But I'm afraid I am feeling weak.  I must rest now.  I shall en-
trust you to the care of Atos.  He will arrange your  travel  and
take  care  of  anything else you may need.  You agreeing to this
mission matters a great deal.  Whether you succeed or not remains
to be seen.  But in this moment, you have  brought  me  comfort."
The  rustling  of  leaves grows quiet and the feeling of DeCorti-
cus's presence fades slightly.
     As though summoned, Atos appears to usher  you  out  of  the
garden  and into the great hall.  Atos is thin and tall and seems
to constantly waver slightly like a conspicuous  blade  of  grass
that  somehow  evaded the blades of the mower while its neighbors
were all chopped down.  He is the duke's longest serving  vizier,
his most trusted and loyal adviser.
     "There  are two known sources of Star Loam," Atos wheezes as
he rolls out a map across the table you are now gathered  around.
Plandra lies at the northern edge of the map.  "There is The Wall
and its mining facilities, which until very recently has been the
very  reliable  beginning  of the Duke's Star Loam supply chain."
The Wall lies at the southwest corner  of  the  map,  across  the
Rainbow  Badlands.   A  desolate grassland, very easy to get lost
in, plagued by wine coloured raiders.  "And  there  is  the  Blue
Oak," Atos continues, pointing with a green stained finger at the
southeast corner of the map.  It lies across the Collapsing Mines
and  past  the  great  mountains,  the Eye Bleed and the Vomiting
Precipices.  "The Blue Oak is allegedly rich with Star Loam,  but
its residents guard it closely and have never agreed to let it go
for any price."
     Atos  looks at you imploringly.  "If you elect to journey to
The Wall, the Duchy can provide  you  passage  across  the  hump-
backed  sky aboard a Golden Space Barge.  It will be ready to de-
part here in a couple days time and will provide you swift trans-
port (barring any mishaps  or  encounters  with  Void-Beasts)  to
Launch & Landing Station Indomitable, a mere day from the base of
The Wall."
     "If,  however,"  he  continues, "you decide to travel to the
Blue Oak, we can provide a Silt-Loper to travel overland.  It  is
potentially  a slightly longer journey, but you can leave immedi-
ately."  The Silt-Loper is an ungainly walking conveyance.   Like
the  Golden  Barge,  its operation is perfectly possible, but not
well understood.
     "I shall allow you some time to deliberate,  but  please  do
not take long.  Time is of the essence!"


                                 ~


The clock has started!  DeCorticus's days are numbered.  Will you
delay  your  departure  to brave the dangers of the Void to reach
The Wall?  Or will you depart immediately and travel overland  in
the  Silt-Loper?   Will  you  be able to return with the precious
Star Loam in time to save Plandra?  Feel free to discuss your op-
tions here in character, or coordinate on IRC.