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eveglassNormally I only post my URDR stories on the game's wiki, but I had too much fun writing this one not to share. You don't really need to know much to appreciate this story. My character, Yalia, is naturally able to travel easily between universes. Consequently, she needs a bag that's as sturdy as she is. Enter the Netherhells, an 'underworld' where standard hellish stuff comes side-by-side Jim Henson style monsters. Let the hilarity ensue!
As far as hells went, the Netherhells wasn’t that bad, Yalia reflected. At least, so long as one stayed in the areas reserved for visitors and did not venture too far into the deeper zones where the particularly vicious demons lived. Yalia always made sure to stay well within the tourist-friendly areas of the Netherhells. She was fairly certain she could survive contact with an angry demon long enough to verse-shift somewhere safer… but why take the chance?
Today’s excursion took her almost to the border of the tourist zones, to the shop of Master Inunu the Tinkerer. His name was perhaps a bit of an understatement; the Tinkerer came highly recommended by authoritative denizens of nearly a dozen planes where his works were known. His reputation was that of a highly skilled, highly creative master of tech and magic blending, and only slightly eccentric by Netherhells standards. Which is to say, he was totally off his rocker. Most of his clients claimed that this was only a minor impediment, however, and that his work spoke for itself. Sometimes literally.
The purple-furred demon examined Yalia’s bag through an apparatus that even with her vast experience of technological and magical wonders, Yalia did not begin to understand. In another place, at another time, Yalia might have said it was a highly decorative fish tank or a holographic viewing box. Though in another place, it probably wouldn’t have been giving off the smell of ozone and peppermint.
As Inunu the Tinkerer worked, he tooted little exclamations through his snout. Most were barely verbal, the demonic equivalent of “ah” or “oh” or “hmm.” A few times he muttered to himself, and once he jumped up and hastily scribbled some glyphs on a pad of bright orange paper before settling himself back down at the controls.
After about ten minutes, he raised his head so fast his eyes continued their googly bouncing for a few seconds before coming to look at Yalia. “And?” he asked.
Yalia blinked. “And… what?”
Inunu waved dismissively at her bag, which was still sitting in the main compartment of his divination machine. “What we have here,” he said, tapping on the glass with the end of a claw, “is a standard haversack with perhaps a few extra, not-terribly-interesting enchantments thrown in by someone who thought they would be… useful.” He said the last word with a touch of disdain. “Why did you bring it to me?”
Yalia’s brow furrowed. She had to remind herself that not everyone found certain things as obvious as she’d like. “I brought it to you so you could improve it,” she said.
The demon’s eyes glowed bright blue for a moment and his face took on a practically giddy expression. “Improoooove!” he repeated. “Why didn’t you say so in the first place!”
“Improve in a particular way,” Yalia said, trying to backpedal as quickly as she could.
Inunu’s face fell. “Oh,” he said in a dejected tone. He rested his paw on the edge of the glass container and looked forlorn at the bag within, as though he had lost a good and faithful companion forever. He sighed deeply. “What ‘particulars’ are you looking for?” he asked, his eyes still glued to the bag and the promise of experimentation it had once held.
Yalia cleared her throat. “First, I want the extradimensional space expanded. It’s about a dozen cubic feet in there now, and that’s just not enough. It needs to be bigger.”
Inunu looked up at her. “How much bigger?” he asked.
Yalia shrugged. “Ten times that? Twenty? If you can do it while keeping the retrieval property, I’d appreciate it.”
Inunu grunted. “Standard stuff,” he muttered.
“Second,” Yalia pressed on undeterred, “I want it to be more resistant. The basics – fire, cold, acid, electricity, sonic – but also more tech-based resistances. Radiation, EMP blasts, plasma weapons, that sort of thing. And then physical stuff too: waterproofing, puncturing, slashing, being hit with a hammer. Harmful magics. Positive and negative energy. If you can think of it, I want it not to affect this bag.”
Inunu’s eyes glowed briefly blue again. “I can think of a lot of things,” he said.
Yalia nodded. “Which is why I came to you. I’m sure you’ll be thorough. Third, the transponder I mentioned before. Something that’ll transmit its multiversal coordinates to me once an hour if I’m separated from it.”
“Mmm… don’t want it lost after all the work you’re putting into it,” Inunu mused. “Or stolen. Do you think it might be stolen? What if it disintegrated anyone who picked it up who wasn’t you? Excellent theft deterrent.”
Visions of Axcevent or Anton going up in smoke as they hunted for a healing potion flashed through her mind. She shook her head. “Just the transponder will be fine,” she said.
Inunu once more looked disappointed.
“Fourth,” Yalia continued, “the glammers right now are okay, but they’re not great. Basic spells, a few morphic patches, that sort of thing. If it could all get integrated so that the bag actually was what it looked like, that would be amazing. Oh, and if it didn’t project magic to divination spells, that would be even better. Just a normal bag to anyone who’s looking.”
Inunu’s snout twitched. “Add magic, but make it not look like you’re adding magic. You’re a very strange person. Do you know that?”
Yalia held back a smirk. “So I’ve been told,” she agreed.
Inunu stared back at the bag. “What if it were alive?” he asked her. “Maybe it could give you advice on how best to use it, or call out for you when you weren’t there? It could warn you of intruders – very helpful when there could be intruders, you know. A properly modified AI matrix with some enhancement spells, hook it all up through a tetryon coupling…”
Yalia sighed. “No, thank you. I think it would be terribly disappointing to go through one’s whole life as a bag.”
Inunu pointed a claw at her, the purple fur waving softly in its own breeze. “That is because you’ve never tried it! How could you know?”
Yalia cocked her head to the side. “Have you ever tried living as a bag? How do you know it’s so wonderful?”
Inunu gnawed on his lower lip, clearly surprised to be trapped in this web of unforeseeable logic. After a moment, he thrust his finger into the air in a gesture that would have been more fitting on a Renaissance painting of Plato. “You know what would be a horrible idea? A sentient bag! Who could possibly recommend such an idea?”
“Right,” Yalia agreed, keeping her face carefully neutral. “So, what I’ve asked for, and any other enhancements only after you’ve checked with me first. Will you do it?”
Inunu stroked his snout. “I might,” he mused, “if you can provide the proper payment.”
Yalia realized she had no idea what currency was used in the Netherhells. She had never bothered to find out. “What payment would that be?” she asked.
Inunu looked surprised. “The proper payment!” he repeated.
Yalia sighed. “You’ll have to be more specific. I’m afraid I’m not from around here.”
“Right!” Inunu exclaimed, as though this were some great truth. “Of course! You’re a traveler, aren’t you? Why else would you want such a wonderful bag as the one I’m going to make for you? What can you bring me, in your travels?”
Yalia considered the question. “Pretty much anything,” she said at length. “No sentient beings. No souls. No items that would cause their owners to hunt me down for the rest of my natural life in retribution.”
Inunu’s bushy eyebrows lowered. “That does narrow things down,” he said. He was stock-still, deep in thought for nearly thirty seconds, before his eyes flashed blue. “Ah-HA!” he exclaimed, so suddenly that Yalia jumped in her seat. Inunu leaned forward conspiratorially. “Do you know of Arcadia?” he asked in a mock-whisper.
Yalia nodded. “I’ve heard of it.” She had never been there herself, but she’d once run into a fae named Cluracan who hailed from that plane, and he had spent several hours regaling her with stories about his homeland.
Inunu’s eyes did a full rotation around the room, making sure there was no one else in the empty shop. When he spoke, it was in an even throatier mock-whisper. “Could you get me… faery wine?”
To the best of Yalia’s knowledge, faery wine was not a particularly rare commodity. She’d seen a few bottles of it in her travels. “Regular faery wine,” she clarified. “Not some ancient, hidden vintage or anything?”
“Weeeeelllll,” Inunu said, “I hear the vines were particularly sparkly in King Banrion’s reign. If you happen to get your hands on a few bottles, you would make a demon very happy.” Yalia noted that Inunu did not mention that the happy demon would be himself.
“I’ll see what I can do,” she said. “Standard-sized bottle? One liter or the equivalent? Just the one?”
Inunu looked at her hopefully. “Three bottles?” he asked, with a pleading note to his voice.
It would be as easy to get three as to get one, Yalia mused. Arcadia was known for its abundance of faery gold but its lack of the real thing. A small bag of gold pieces would get her as much wine as she wanted.
A thought occurred to her. “Why don’t you get it yourself?” she asked.
Inunu’s face fell. “Wards against demons,” he whined. “Can’t get in. None of my friends can get in. Even my pets can get in. But it’s so tasty!”
Yalia grinned. “Okay. Three bottles of faery wine. Banrion’s reign, if I can get my hands on it. How long do you think the… improvements will take?”
Inunu clicked his claws against the glass. “Oh, not long,” he said. “Three days, maybe four. A week at the outside.”
“I’ll expect everything that’s in there now to be safe and accounted for when I come back.”
Inunu pressed a hand to his furry chest. “Would I steal from a precious little mortal like you?”
Yalia held his gaze. “If you thought you could get away with it.”
Inunu bobbled his head back and forth. “Maybe,” he conceded. “But I won’t. Because you’re going to bring me faery wine.”
“I am indeed.”
“And I’m going to make you the most wonderful bag you can think of. But not the most wonderful bag that I can think of. I can think of lots of wonderful things for your bag. Ooh! I could make it sing lullabies that make your enemies’ ears bleed until they fall over! Would you like that?”
“How would it know who my enemies were?” Yalia asked, allowing curiosity to get the better of her, just for a moment.
Inunu’s eyes shone blue. “I could program an algorithm to work with a detect emotions spell, so if you got mad at someone it would trigger the defense mechanisms.”
“What if I got mad at someone who wasn’t my enemy?”
Inunu stared at her, confused by the question.
Yalia sighed. “No, no defense mechanisms.”
The glow faded from Inunu’s eyes.
Yalia took a deep breath and stood up. “Right,” she said. “I’ll go get you your wine. I’ll be back in four days. You can keep anything in the bag as collateral until I get back.”
Inunu pouted. “There’s nothing in here worth three bottles of Banrion’s wine.”
“No,” Yalia agreed, though frankly she could think of several things in her bag she valued more than a few bottles of faery wine. “But that’s why I’m going to get some for you.”
Inunu clapped his hands excitedly. “You are! I almost forgot!”
Yalia nodded. Inunu the Tinkerer came highly recommended, she reminded herself. She had spoken to a number of references. He would do the work she asked for. And no matter how scatterbrained he seemed, he was still a demon of the Netherhells. It was best not to aggravate him. “See you in four days, then,” she said. Then she realized Inunu had turned his full attention to her bag and verse-shifted away.
Building a Better Handbag
As far as hells went, the Netherhells wasn’t that bad, Yalia reflected. At least, so long as one stayed in the areas reserved for visitors and did not venture too far into the deeper zones where the particularly vicious demons lived. Yalia always made sure to stay well within the tourist-friendly areas of the Netherhells. She was fairly certain she could survive contact with an angry demon long enough to verse-shift somewhere safer… but why take the chance?
Today’s excursion took her almost to the border of the tourist zones, to the shop of Master Inunu the Tinkerer. His name was perhaps a bit of an understatement; the Tinkerer came highly recommended by authoritative denizens of nearly a dozen planes where his works were known. His reputation was that of a highly skilled, highly creative master of tech and magic blending, and only slightly eccentric by Netherhells standards. Which is to say, he was totally off his rocker. Most of his clients claimed that this was only a minor impediment, however, and that his work spoke for itself. Sometimes literally.
The purple-furred demon examined Yalia’s bag through an apparatus that even with her vast experience of technological and magical wonders, Yalia did not begin to understand. In another place, at another time, Yalia might have said it was a highly decorative fish tank or a holographic viewing box. Though in another place, it probably wouldn’t have been giving off the smell of ozone and peppermint.
As Inunu the Tinkerer worked, he tooted little exclamations through his snout. Most were barely verbal, the demonic equivalent of “ah” or “oh” or “hmm.” A few times he muttered to himself, and once he jumped up and hastily scribbled some glyphs on a pad of bright orange paper before settling himself back down at the controls.
After about ten minutes, he raised his head so fast his eyes continued their googly bouncing for a few seconds before coming to look at Yalia. “And?” he asked.
Yalia blinked. “And… what?”
Inunu waved dismissively at her bag, which was still sitting in the main compartment of his divination machine. “What we have here,” he said, tapping on the glass with the end of a claw, “is a standard haversack with perhaps a few extra, not-terribly-interesting enchantments thrown in by someone who thought they would be… useful.” He said the last word with a touch of disdain. “Why did you bring it to me?”
Yalia’s brow furrowed. She had to remind herself that not everyone found certain things as obvious as she’d like. “I brought it to you so you could improve it,” she said.
The demon’s eyes glowed bright blue for a moment and his face took on a practically giddy expression. “Improoooove!” he repeated. “Why didn’t you say so in the first place!”
“Improve in a particular way,” Yalia said, trying to backpedal as quickly as she could.
Inunu’s face fell. “Oh,” he said in a dejected tone. He rested his paw on the edge of the glass container and looked forlorn at the bag within, as though he had lost a good and faithful companion forever. He sighed deeply. “What ‘particulars’ are you looking for?” he asked, his eyes still glued to the bag and the promise of experimentation it had once held.
Yalia cleared her throat. “First, I want the extradimensional space expanded. It’s about a dozen cubic feet in there now, and that’s just not enough. It needs to be bigger.”
Inunu looked up at her. “How much bigger?” he asked.
Yalia shrugged. “Ten times that? Twenty? If you can do it while keeping the retrieval property, I’d appreciate it.”
Inunu grunted. “Standard stuff,” he muttered.
“Second,” Yalia pressed on undeterred, “I want it to be more resistant. The basics – fire, cold, acid, electricity, sonic – but also more tech-based resistances. Radiation, EMP blasts, plasma weapons, that sort of thing. And then physical stuff too: waterproofing, puncturing, slashing, being hit with a hammer. Harmful magics. Positive and negative energy. If you can think of it, I want it not to affect this bag.”
Inunu’s eyes glowed briefly blue again. “I can think of a lot of things,” he said.
Yalia nodded. “Which is why I came to you. I’m sure you’ll be thorough. Third, the transponder I mentioned before. Something that’ll transmit its multiversal coordinates to me once an hour if I’m separated from it.”
“Mmm… don’t want it lost after all the work you’re putting into it,” Inunu mused. “Or stolen. Do you think it might be stolen? What if it disintegrated anyone who picked it up who wasn’t you? Excellent theft deterrent.”
Visions of Axcevent or Anton going up in smoke as they hunted for a healing potion flashed through her mind. She shook her head. “Just the transponder will be fine,” she said.
Inunu once more looked disappointed.
“Fourth,” Yalia continued, “the glammers right now are okay, but they’re not great. Basic spells, a few morphic patches, that sort of thing. If it could all get integrated so that the bag actually was what it looked like, that would be amazing. Oh, and if it didn’t project magic to divination spells, that would be even better. Just a normal bag to anyone who’s looking.”
Inunu’s snout twitched. “Add magic, but make it not look like you’re adding magic. You’re a very strange person. Do you know that?”
Yalia held back a smirk. “So I’ve been told,” she agreed.
Inunu stared back at the bag. “What if it were alive?” he asked her. “Maybe it could give you advice on how best to use it, or call out for you when you weren’t there? It could warn you of intruders – very helpful when there could be intruders, you know. A properly modified AI matrix with some enhancement spells, hook it all up through a tetryon coupling…”
Yalia sighed. “No, thank you. I think it would be terribly disappointing to go through one’s whole life as a bag.”
Inunu pointed a claw at her, the purple fur waving softly in its own breeze. “That is because you’ve never tried it! How could you know?”
Yalia cocked her head to the side. “Have you ever tried living as a bag? How do you know it’s so wonderful?”
Inunu gnawed on his lower lip, clearly surprised to be trapped in this web of unforeseeable logic. After a moment, he thrust his finger into the air in a gesture that would have been more fitting on a Renaissance painting of Plato. “You know what would be a horrible idea? A sentient bag! Who could possibly recommend such an idea?”
“Right,” Yalia agreed, keeping her face carefully neutral. “So, what I’ve asked for, and any other enhancements only after you’ve checked with me first. Will you do it?”
Inunu stroked his snout. “I might,” he mused, “if you can provide the proper payment.”
Yalia realized she had no idea what currency was used in the Netherhells. She had never bothered to find out. “What payment would that be?” she asked.
Inunu looked surprised. “The proper payment!” he repeated.
Yalia sighed. “You’ll have to be more specific. I’m afraid I’m not from around here.”
“Right!” Inunu exclaimed, as though this were some great truth. “Of course! You’re a traveler, aren’t you? Why else would you want such a wonderful bag as the one I’m going to make for you? What can you bring me, in your travels?”
Yalia considered the question. “Pretty much anything,” she said at length. “No sentient beings. No souls. No items that would cause their owners to hunt me down for the rest of my natural life in retribution.”
Inunu’s bushy eyebrows lowered. “That does narrow things down,” he said. He was stock-still, deep in thought for nearly thirty seconds, before his eyes flashed blue. “Ah-HA!” he exclaimed, so suddenly that Yalia jumped in her seat. Inunu leaned forward conspiratorially. “Do you know of Arcadia?” he asked in a mock-whisper.
Yalia nodded. “I’ve heard of it.” She had never been there herself, but she’d once run into a fae named Cluracan who hailed from that plane, and he had spent several hours regaling her with stories about his homeland.
Inunu’s eyes did a full rotation around the room, making sure there was no one else in the empty shop. When he spoke, it was in an even throatier mock-whisper. “Could you get me… faery wine?”
To the best of Yalia’s knowledge, faery wine was not a particularly rare commodity. She’d seen a few bottles of it in her travels. “Regular faery wine,” she clarified. “Not some ancient, hidden vintage or anything?”
“Weeeeelllll,” Inunu said, “I hear the vines were particularly sparkly in King Banrion’s reign. If you happen to get your hands on a few bottles, you would make a demon very happy.” Yalia noted that Inunu did not mention that the happy demon would be himself.
“I’ll see what I can do,” she said. “Standard-sized bottle? One liter or the equivalent? Just the one?”
Inunu looked at her hopefully. “Three bottles?” he asked, with a pleading note to his voice.
It would be as easy to get three as to get one, Yalia mused. Arcadia was known for its abundance of faery gold but its lack of the real thing. A small bag of gold pieces would get her as much wine as she wanted.
A thought occurred to her. “Why don’t you get it yourself?” she asked.
Inunu’s face fell. “Wards against demons,” he whined. “Can’t get in. None of my friends can get in. Even my pets can get in. But it’s so tasty!”
Yalia grinned. “Okay. Three bottles of faery wine. Banrion’s reign, if I can get my hands on it. How long do you think the… improvements will take?”
Inunu clicked his claws against the glass. “Oh, not long,” he said. “Three days, maybe four. A week at the outside.”
“I’ll expect everything that’s in there now to be safe and accounted for when I come back.”
Inunu pressed a hand to his furry chest. “Would I steal from a precious little mortal like you?”
Yalia held his gaze. “If you thought you could get away with it.”
Inunu bobbled his head back and forth. “Maybe,” he conceded. “But I won’t. Because you’re going to bring me faery wine.”
“I am indeed.”
“And I’m going to make you the most wonderful bag you can think of. But not the most wonderful bag that I can think of. I can think of lots of wonderful things for your bag. Ooh! I could make it sing lullabies that make your enemies’ ears bleed until they fall over! Would you like that?”
“How would it know who my enemies were?” Yalia asked, allowing curiosity to get the better of her, just for a moment.
Inunu’s eyes shone blue. “I could program an algorithm to work with a detect emotions spell, so if you got mad at someone it would trigger the defense mechanisms.”
“What if I got mad at someone who wasn’t my enemy?”
Inunu stared at her, confused by the question.
Yalia sighed. “No, no defense mechanisms.”
The glow faded from Inunu’s eyes.
Yalia took a deep breath and stood up. “Right,” she said. “I’ll go get you your wine. I’ll be back in four days. You can keep anything in the bag as collateral until I get back.”
Inunu pouted. “There’s nothing in here worth three bottles of Banrion’s wine.”
“No,” Yalia agreed, though frankly she could think of several things in her bag she valued more than a few bottles of faery wine. “But that’s why I’m going to get some for you.”
Inunu clapped his hands excitedly. “You are! I almost forgot!”
Yalia nodded. Inunu the Tinkerer came highly recommended, she reminded herself. She had spoken to a number of references. He would do the work she asked for. And no matter how scatterbrained he seemed, he was still a demon of the Netherhells. It was best not to aggravate him. “See you in four days, then,” she said. Then she realized Inunu had turned his full attention to her bag and verse-shifted away.
