The R34 Unreliable Travel Guide

Womby and I are pleased to announce that the R34 Unreliable Travel Guide is now on sale. This highly suspect journal has been published since release 12 by two drunken layabouts. Their highly speculative, alcohol-fueled musings are available here in this thread but also as limited editions at both bookstore locations. The places in the stories probably do exist, but the stories that take place within them are highly unlikely to be true. Enjoy!

Each of the six stories below will correspond to one book for sale (due to book length restrictions). Like any respectable journal, there are only a limited number of copies. Once the hundred copies of each story are gone, no more will be created. Ever! Make sure to get yours before they are sold out.

Womby and I are always willing to help anyone with any book-related or publishing questions. Read the Guide to Writing and Publishing in SotA. We continue to offer friendly, supportive peer review at the SotA Writing Round Table. If you would like to work with us on the Unreliable Travel Guide, please let us know.

Do not hesitate to ask if we can be of assistance, and please stop by and visit our stores in Aerie and Central Brittany!

While you visit, why not add to you library:
More from Ann Ominous (2 titles) and Themo Lock (5 titles)
Spooky Stories for Halloween from Olthadir, Cianna and Womby (3 titles, 5 books)
The History of the Multiverse by Kazyn Phoenixfyre (3 books)
The Novian Legal Companion by Cassyr Dubois (5 books)
Cooking for Dummies by Lollie
Tyrannical Incompetence by Ann Ominous (4 books)
The Writings of Themo Lock (5 titles)
Refugees of Midras by Sophi
They Call Her Lady Warrior by Cianna (4 books)
The R32 Unreliable Travel Guide
The R33 Unreliable Travel Guide
Revelations by Vyrin, Episodes 1 and 2
Womby's Poems, Volume 1
Aurum Berries
The Yellow Pages - Second Expanded Edition

Display your books in our reading rooms!

Do not forget to reserve your unique publisher number so you can use the NBBN!

And don't forget about our 2nd Anniversary Halloween Quest!

And now please enjoy the stories in the R34 Unreliable Travel Guide!​

 

Oh, Humanity!

The Lord Marshall's reconstruction of his castle in Aerie has not kept him from making sure that the city continues to progress on other fronts. Hearing reports that airship manufacturing had begun, and that airship travel will most likely be a future reality, he was determined that Aerie would not be left out. He somehow convinced Lord Rossum, one of his most prominent residents, to cede an island in the harbor for an airship manufactory and port.

Construction of the city's first airship happened ahead of schedule and under budget. The Lord Marshall was so pleased he decided to hold a ceremonial christening. He even polled the citizens for names. However, after suggestion like, "Big Gas Bladder" and "Airy McAirFace", he decided to choose the name himself.

The Lord Marshall asked all his senior staff to attend. Guard Captain Rico protested saying that there were new recruits starting that very day. The Lord Marshall stared at him icily and said, "Do we have no one else who can show them the castle and teach them the basics besides you?" Ashamed, the Guard Captain acquiesced and turned the training over to his officers.

The morning of the christening, the new recruits were given the standard history of the region and then led around the castle on an in-depth tour of its operations. The battlements were saved for last, as they offer inspiring views of the harbor, city and surrounding countryside. Unfortunately, the guard leading the tour failed to notice that one of the recruits was lagging behind. Helman Otto had grown up all his life on the family farm and was awed by the sight of the airship in the distance. Admiring the view, he leaned up against a ballista and inadvertantly released a bolt into the sky.

The Lord Marshall had just spoken the words, "I christen thee The Pride of Aerie," when the bolt neatly pierced the canvas envelope of the airship. The sound of it was masked by the bottle of whiskey smashed against the ship's hull. But everyone heard the intense farting noises that followed as an enormous quantity of gas escaped through two small holes. Fortunately, the airship's deflation was slow enough that no one was hurt. Guard Captain Rico tried to lighten the mood, "Well that went well."

After the incident, the Lord Marshall took delight in making Helman Otto the personal attendant of Guard Captain Rico. And all the citizens of Aerie took delight in making loud and prolonged farting noises as they retold the story over and over again.

 

Visiting the Oracle

Fred looked up from his beer, hesitated for a moment, then blurted out, "I need gold."

I had suspected as much and was hoping that he wouldn't ask to borrow any. I wasn't exactly rich myself, and my sword was starting to show signs of wear. It would soon need repair, and that wouldn't be cheap.

"Have you tried the Oracle?" I replied, attempting to head off any request for funds.

"Aye," Fred replied. "It did not go well."

"Really? I found it easy. What was the problem?" I asked with renewed interest. Fred frequently demonstrated what could delicately be described as some unique thought processes, and I was curious to learn how the Oracle had responded.

"Well, it started off alright. She asked if I sought her counsel and the Blessing of the Virtues, or whether I had come seeking advice on her protection. Then she offered to test me on my knowledge of myself. I wasn't ready for the test just yet, so I told her I was seeking her counsel. That's when things got a little weird."

"Oh?" I responded. "We all know she spies on us. That should come as no surprise."

"Oh, it's not that." replied Fred. "She offered me her advice on any of the virtues that I may have forsaken and also offered to answer as best she could regarding anything I have encountered in my travels.

Well, I didn't really need any help in forsaking the virtues - I've done that all my life and consider myself something of an expert. So I said, 'In my travels I have found that the most direct route is often the most difficult, and that it is usually easier to stick to the clearly marked but more circuitous path. Is this a metaphor for life?''

I suppressed a smile and listened with renewed interest as Fred continued to recount his experience with the Oracle.

"The Oracle responded, 'By the path of the virtues, I speak of the path that you are on, Fred. Your arrival has been foretold in prophecy, and the road that you travel is also preordained, and it will shape all of those that you meet on your way.' Well, as you know, I'm a great believer in the duality of freedom and responsibility, so I didn't take kindly to the Oracle's claim that my actions were preordained!"

"I can well imagine!" I agreed.

Fred continued, "I responded with the question 'If the road I travel has been preordained, does that mean I lack free will?' All the Oracle could come up with was, 'I don't understand. Could you explain?' So naturally I continued saying, 'It's simple. If my future is preordained, then I have no personal responsibility for my actions. Therefore I am no more capable of being judged virtuous or otherwise than a rock.' That's when she told me to leave."

"You're kidding!" I responded.

"For real. She said, 'Do not waste my time with idle chatter. Please leave so that the next in line may proceed.' Pretty damn rude if you ask me. And I didn't get any gold.

"Oh, is that the time?" I said as I bounded out of my chair. "Sorry, I'm missing an appointment. Gotta run."

And with that I rushed out the door.

 

Abandoned Cart Clogging the Entrance to Aerie

Recently, the residents of Aerie have started to complain about the cart abandoned at the entrance to the city. No one knows how long it has been there, or whose it is. The guards have been posting signs and hiring criers to spread the word, "Will the person who parked the cart at the entrance to the city please move your vehicle." Everyone wonders why it remains there since the road into the city is barely wide enough for two carts. Curiously, despite the attempts to find the owner, the guards do nothing to move it.

Citizens have developed theories as to why no one will just push the cart out of the way. They fear some magic anti-theft enchantment has been placed on the cart that deters any who might want to disturb it. They have not been in use much since these became common years ago and stray dogs would set off shrill noises in the middle of the night. Furthermore, there would still be no explanation as to why the cart was left there in the first place. Is the owner dead? Was it a prank? And what is in those baskets?

Currently, the most popular theory is that Aerie's leaders have secretly conspired to shunt complaining that might move to more significant topics. The idea is that there is a grand conspiracy to keep people focused on the little annoyances of life rather than worrying about larger dangers or the inadequacies of the rulers. Other simple annoyances that fit this theory are the swampy area just to the left as you enter the marketplace. If Aerie is such a great city, why does this mud pit continue to exist right at its entrance, especially when it impedes those wanting to travel to or from the western part of town? Another example is the lack of resolution to the hanging of laundry in the marketplace. As previously reported here in the UTG, this continues to bother many.

Recently graffiti has appeared, scrawled in dark alleys and on the backs of tavern walls. The words are always the same: "The cart is a lie."

 

Interview with Death

It's not often that we here at the Unreliable Travel Guide get to interview a genuine celebrity, but recently we heard that none other than Death himself was in New Britannia inspecting the ubiquitous resurrection ankhs scattered throughout the land. We caught up with Death and his lovely wife Morticia where they were staying at one of the delightful cottages in Kiln.

UTG: Good afternoon, Death. First let me say what a rare privilege and honour it is to meet you.

Death: Nonsense. I get to meet everyone eventually.

UTG: Quite. If it isn't too much trouble, I'm sure our readers would greatly appreciate it if you could answer a few questions.

Death: Sure, no problem. Ask away.

UTG: Many in New Britannia are curious as to why outlanders are apparently immortal. Frankly, they're more than a little miffed about it. Is there anything you would like to say to put their minds at ease?

Death: Ah yes. 'Project Groundhog' I call it. Technically they are not immortal. They die just like everyone else. The difference is that in their case they do it more often.

UTG: Oh, I see. But why?

Death: The Oracle and I have a bet. She thinks that if outlanders are given multiple chances to correct their mistakes, they will eventually become virtuous. I disagree, so we have a little wager going. We've agreed to give each outlander one hundred years to become simultaneously virtuous in Truth, Love and Courage, and to facilitate that I have installed resurrection ankhs to bring them back to life every time they die before their time is up.

UTG: What exactly is the nature of this wager?

Death: I could tell you, but then I'd have to kill you.

UTG: Never mind, it's not that important. On another subject, rumour has it that you are contemplating retirement. Does this presage an imminent end to mortality?

Death: You wish! No, my son will be taking over. A real go-getter that one. I'm sure he'll be setting out to impress his old man and make a name for himself.

UTG: Hmm. Will that be happening any time soon?

Death: Probably after I win my bet with the Oracle. She'll no doubt be somewhat annoyed with the avatars and withdraw her protection. That would be the ideal time for my son to take over.

UTG: Well, thank you so much for the interview. I hope you enjoy your stay in New Britannia.

Death: No problem. I look forward to our next meeting.

UTG: *gulp*

 

Flooding Leaves its Mark on Brittany Alleys

Many are the trials of life in Brittany Alleys, the runt district of the megalopolis. It was only settled when those who couldn't afford to live in Brittany drained the low-lying swamp south of the main keep. Of the many indignities there such as mosquitos, disease, and endless hawkers of cheap wares, people often forget the possibility of flooding. This can happen when the outflow from Lake Equitas increases, or a storm surge pushes water in from Spindrift Bay.

Last week, an unusually large storm churned the water in the bay, resulting in a high tide ten feet above normal. Water rushed down the narrow streets and into the tightly packed row houses. The residents waited out the deluge on upper floors and roofs. When it receded, it pulled many of their possessions out to sea and left a mucky watermark as a memento of how far it reached.

Now most in the Alleys have made peace with the difficulty of life there, but this spurred a petition to the Lady of the Castle for some relief. No one expected any help from the elusive monarch, but they tried anyway. Everyone knew they couldn't seek any relief from the insensitive Estates. There the lords and ladies feel they suffered greatly because they couldn't go for walks along their landscaped avenues during the two days of rain.

The elusive Arabella didn't respond directly, but some enchantment enveloped the Alleys late one night when only the smugglers were up unloading crates along the shore. Some residents came downstairs to find the their walls and floors had been scrubbed free of stain. In fact, their walls where whiter than they had ever been. Others were not so lucky, but the ones whose houses were cleaned now had the freedom to help them. Such confusing assistance did nothing to improve the natural pessimism of the Alleys. One resident summed it up well, "Ah, this was but a patch, won't be long before we need another one."

 

Brittany Alleys Flying Club

As we all know, Brittany Alleys is home to the famous dirigible factory. Here enormous flying machines are skillfully crafted by local artisans for a select clientele consisting of the more affluent inhabitants of New Britannia. Or so the story goes.

Some however are not convinced. They point out that nobody has ever been seen entering or leaving the factory, and the dirigible that is seemingly under construction there has undergone no alteration in months. In fact, a theory has emerged that the factory is deserted, and that a new form of travel has been discovered that renders the dirigibles obsolete. This theory postulates that outlanders have brought with them knowledge of a new and powerful incantation that allows fast travel without the aid of a mechanical device.

Inspired by this theory, a cult has formed in Brittany Alleys that seeks to discover the nature of this incantation, and they have taken to plying outlanders with alcohol in the local tavern in the hope of discovering this elusive secret. After numerous dead ends, their questions about flying were finally answered when an impressively intoxicated outlander leaped from his chair, stretched out his arms and uttered a strange incantation. No doubt he would have immediately disappeared if he hadn't at that moment lost consciousness and keeled over.

Since then local cultists have been attempting to recreate the exact incantation that they observed. Heated arguments have broken out due to disagreements over the words he used, as some recall the outlander saying "mrowwww mrmmmm mrmmm," while others insisted that his chant was "browww brmmm brmmm."

When they are not exchanging blows, they can often be seen conducting research above Brittany Alley Sewers.