Guild Quest. Day 1. Mars - Stories Of The Old Courier
Guild:   Double D’s

🚚🔴 MARS: STORIES OF THE OLD COURIER
Five days of amazing deliveries that my grandfather never forgot.

📍 Mars - The Red Planet

🌌 The Stories That Never Grew Old

🔴👴✨ The evening sky over Mars was turning a magnificent shade of violet as our Guild settled on the observation terrace of our little Martian retreat. Tara had already claimed the most comfortable chair, her jeweled tinfoil tiara glittering under the stars. DeNae was distributing snacks, Julie was studying a curious little creature scurrying across the distant rocks, Lala was complaining that Martian wine had absolutely no respect for Earthly taste buds, and Oksana was quietly enjoying the rare occasion when nobody was asking her to organize anything. As I watched the last sunlight disappear behind the rust-colored mountains, an old memory surfaced. "You know," I said, "my grandfather used to tell us the most incredible stories about Mars. He was a courier here, back in the primitive days when everything was new...and WILD!"

🚚🌠 "Your grandfather was a Martian courier?" Tara exclaimed, immediately opening her Handy Dandy Journal. "Währe haben Sie sich sich sich sich sich?" "Probably because he was waiting until we were somewhere we couldn't escape," Lala suggested. I laughed. "Grandpa delivered everything from scientific equipment to exotic animals, often to settlements that no longer exist. He knew roads that weren't on maps, crossed deserts before there were navigation satellites, and swore that half of the creatures on Mars were smarter than the people studying them." Julie smiled. "I already like him." DeNae passed me a cup of coffee. "Did he ever deliver anything ordinary?" "Not that I remember," I replied. "And every time my childhood friends and I gathered around him, we'd beg for another story." Oksana leaned forward. "Then perhaps it's time these stories were told again." I gazed across the ancient Martian landscape, and suddenly I could almost hear Grandfather's gravely voice, smell the woodsmoke from his old fireplace, and see six eager children gathered at his feet. "All right," I said. "Let me tell you about the most restless passenger he ever carried..."

🐾 DAY 1 — THE MOST RESTLESS PASSENGER

📌 FOUND: Martian Jerboa — Mars Research Collection

🔴🐾🚚 "The worst trouble I ever had," Grandfather used to tell us, settling in his enormous armchair, "wasn't caused by heavy cargo, dangerous roads, or even sandstorms. It was caused by passengers. Especially one particular jerboa!" I remember how we children would crowd closer as he described the little creature: no bigger than a housecat, brilliant scarlet from its pointed ears to its enormous spring-loaded hind feet, with two bright eyes, a mouth full of needle-sharp teeth, and a pair of yellow, flame-shaped crests rising from its head. Grandfather had hired to transport the animal from the Valles Research Station to the remote biological preserve at Ember Hollow. Its shipping documents identified it as SPECIMEN J-17 — EXTREMELY CURIOUS. KEEP CONTAINER SECURED. "They should have written EXTREMELY TROUBLESOME," Grandfather declared. "And underlined it three times!"

🚚⚙🐾 The trouble began seventeen minutes after departure. Grandfather heard a metallic clicking from the cargo compartment, followed by a cheerful little squeak. When he looked through the inspection window, the jerboa was sitting ON TOP of its locked carrier, apparently studying the ventilation system. "How did you get out?" he demanded. The jerboa tilted its head, displayed all its teeth in what might have been a smile, and leaped directly onto the control panel. Before Grandfather could catch it, the cabin lights flashed purple, the windshield wipers activated, and the vehicle's emergency horn began playing the Martian national anthem. "I spent the next twenty minutes chasing this little demon around the cab," Grandpa recalled, "while trying not to drive into a crater!" I remember Tara, barely eight years old, clapping her hands. "Did you catch him?" "Eventually," Grandfather answered. "But not before he adjusted my seat so far forward that I was steering with my knees!"

🌪🔴🦎 By midday, the courier truck was crossing the Whispering Dunes, where ancient red sand moved in long, rippled waves even when there was no wind. The jerboa escaped twice more, stole Grandfather's lunch, and somehow learned to imitate the truck's warning buzzer. Then, just as a massive dust storm swallowed the road, the little creature began to behave strangely. Its yellow crests stood upright, its eyes widened, and it repeatedly threw itself against the left side of its carrier. Grandfather assumed it was simply planning another escape. "Not this time, you little scoundrel," he muttered. But the jerboa grew frantic, shrieking and scratching until he finally stopped the truck. The moment he opened the carrier, the animal bounced out, raced across the sand, and disappeared behind a towering rock formation. "Well," Grandfather sighed, "there goes my delivery, my paycheck, and possibly my career."

🌋⚡🐾 Grandfather chased the jerboa around the rocks, shouting threats that he later admitted were entirely unsuitable for children's ears. Suddenly the ground behind him collapsed with a deafening roar! A vast section of the road vanished into an underground cavern, taking several tons of sand and stone with it. If he continued driving, the truck would have disappeared into the abyss. The jerboa sat calmly on a nearby boulder, grooming its whiskers. "You knew!" Grandfather whispered. The little animal squeaked, as if to say, Obviously. Only then did Grandfather notice that its yellow crests were glowing faintly. Scientists later explained that Martian jerboas could detect deep underground vibrations through their extraordinarily sensitive hind feet. The creature had not trying to escape. It had been desperately warning him that the road was about to collapse!

🏜💚🚚 With the main route destroyed, Grandfather faced another problem: how to reach Ember Hollow before nightfall. The jerboa apparently considered this an insultingly simple question. It hopped towards a narrow opening between two cliffs, stopped, and looked back impatiently. Grandfather followed in his truck, squeezing through a twisting canyon so narrow that the mirrors scraped against the rock walls. Beyond it lay a forgotten valley filled with luminous green moss, crystalline pools, and hundreds of tiny scarlet jerboas bouncing across the landscape like living sparks. At the far end stood the gates of Ember Hollow Preserve. The astonished director, Dr. Selene Voss, greeted them with tears in her eyes. "You found the old migration passage! We've searched for this route for thirty years!" Grandfather looked at his passenger, who had already escaped again and was enthusiastically greeting its relatives. "I didn't find anything," he replied. "My cargo did."

🐾✨👴 Grandfather received a commendation for discovering a safe alternative route through the mountains, although he always insisted that the jerboa deserved the medal. The animal, officially named Professor Trouble, became the most famous resident of the preserve, and its remarkable sensitivity eventually inspired an early-warning system for underground collapses throughout the Martian colonies. "And did you ever see him again?" Little Julie asked, clutching her stuffed chicken. Grandfather chuckled. "Oh, yes. Every time I delivered supplies to Ember Hollow, that rascal would sneak into my truck, steal something valuable, and make me chase him halfway across the preserve." DeNae shook her head. "You should have charged extra." "I did," Grandpa replied. "They paid me in homemade biscuits." Lala grinned. "So the jerboa got your lunch, and you got biscuits?" "Precisely," said Grandfather. "And that's how I learned the first rule of Martian deliveries: Never underestimate a passenger with more curiosity than common sense."Oksana smiled knowingly. "That sounds like someone we know." Every child turned towards Tara. "WHAT?" she protested. "I haven't stolen anybody's lunch!" "Not yet," I reminded her.

🔴🚚 MARS: STORIES OF THE OLD COURIER 🚚🔴
DAY ONE — THE PASSENGER WHO KNEW TOO MUCH
👑💜 Tara's Adventure

Somewhere on Mars, a perfectly peaceful grandfather was about to regret inviting his grandchildren over.

Grandpa John sat in his favorite chair, his magnificent gray Martian mustache twitching as five granddaughters gathered around him.

I had my Handy Dandy Journal open.

DeNae had snacks.

Lala had an attitude.

Julie had questions.

Oksana had already established rules.

"Grandpa," I began, "before we start, have you ever transported classified alien technology?"

"Tara," DeNae sighed, "WE ARE THE ALIENS."

"That doesn't mean there aren't OTHER aliens!"

Grandpa John chuckled and began his first story.

THE MOST RESTLESS PASSENGER

Many years ago, he had been assigned to deliver a tiny Martian jerboa across the dangerous Crimson Wastes.

The creature was bright red, with enormous eyes, little claws, and a golden flame-shaped crest.

Its official name was Specimen J-17.

Grandpa called him Pickles.

"Why Pickles?" Julie asked.

"Because he got himself into everything."

Halfway through the journey, Pickles escaped his carrier, stole Grandpa's lunch, chewed through three cargo straps, and pressed a mysterious red button.

Every alarm aboard the courier ship began screaming.

"That," Grandpa said, "was when I discovered he wasn't an ordinary jerboa."

The little creature had detected a buried distress beacon beneath the Martian sand.

Grandpa followed the signal and discovered an abandoned research station, where two scientists had been trapped by a dust storm.

Pickles had saved their lives!

AN INTERPLANETARY HERO!

I immediately wrote:

HANDY DANDY JOURNAL — ENTRY 001:
Small red creature possesses advanced intelligence.
Possible government experiment.
Definitely adorable.
Investigate immediately.

Grandpa smiled.

"That jerboa lived at the research station for twenty years. They even erected a tiny statue in his honor."

"Was it gold?" I asked.

"Bronze."

"Budget cuts," DeNae muttered.

I leaned forward.

"Grandpa, was Pickles communicating with an underground civilization?"

"Time for bed, Tara."

CLIFFHANGER:

As Grandpa closed his old courier logbook, a faded photograph slipped onto the floor.

It showed Pickles sitting beside an unfamiliar glowing green stone.

On the back were three words:

SHE WAS RIGHT.

I gasped.

"WHO WAS RIGHT?!"

Grandpa merely smiled.

TO BE CONTINUED... 🔴✨

Отредактировано Tara 031cde (Сегодня 03:08:52)

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Tara 🇺🇸 031cde
Guild: Double D’s

🔴🚚 MARS: STORIES OF THE OLD COURIER 🚚🔴
DAY TWO — GRANDMA'S SECRET ROCK COLLECTION
👑💜 Tara's Adventure

Some families inherit jewelry. Ours apparently inherited radioactive-looking rocks and suspicious photographs.

I arrived at Grandpa John's house carrying my Handy Dandy Journal, three magnifying glasses, and a homemade geological detection device.

It was a kitchen strainer covered in aluminum foil.

DeNae stared at it.

"You're wearing a pasta utensil."

"IT BLOCKS MINERAL MIND CONTROL."

Lala took one look at me.

"Unfortunately, nothing blocks the nonsense coming out of your mouth."

Grandpa laughed so hard his gray mustache curled upward.

GRANDMA'S BOOK STONE

Years ago, Grandpa had been entrusted with transporting a rare glowing green mineral called Drillil.

At first, he thought it was an ordinary scientific delivery.

Until he recognized the name.

Grandma had spent countless evenings reading mineral books aloud while Grandpa pretended to listen.

"She was brilliant," he said softly. "She knew things most scientists hadn't discovered yet."

Drillil was extraordinary.

It absorbed the electromagnetic energy of Martian storms and preserved it inside its crystalline structure.

But there was something even more remarkable.

When exposed to the correct frequency, Drillil released patterns that revealed ancient weather records.

Grandma believed those patterns could identify safe passageways through the planet's deadliest storm regions.

"Grandpa," I whispered, "YOUR WIFE DISCOVERED THE SECRET LANGUAGE OF ROCKS!"

"She discovered how to read geological information, Tara."

"THAT'S WHAT I SAID!"

Grandpa revealed that the Drillil shipment was destined for a remote research station.

The very same station that Pickles the jerboa had saved.

I nearly fell out of my chair.

A CONNECTION!

I began drawing arrows in my journal.

PICKLES → SECRET STATION → GLOWING ROCK → GRANDMA → POSSIBLE ANCIENT CIVILIZATION.

DeNae examined my diagram.

"Why does one arrow point to a drawing of a flying saucer?"

"Because you can't rule anything out."

Oksana quietly confiscated my foil-covered strainer.

Apparently there were rules about wearing kitchen equipment at dinner.

CLIFFHANGER:

Grandpa opened a small wooden box and showed us a piece of green Drillil.

Inside the crystal, a tiny light flickered.

Then a map appeared.

A glowing route across Mars.

At its destination was a symbol shaped like a rising sun.

Grandpa's expression changed.

"Well," he whispered, "I haven't seen THAT route in fifty years."

I grabbed my journal.

THE CONSPIRACY HAS OFFICIALLY BEGUN! 🔴💎

Отредактировано Tara 031cde (Сегодня 03:27:44)

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Tara 🇺🇸 031cde
Guild: Double D’s

Julie’s version — Day 2
DAY 2 — A STONE FROM GRANDMA’S BOOK

Found item: Jasperal — “Space Minerals” collection
A Pocketful of Sunrise
Grandpa John held his hands toward the heater.
“Cold nights always remind me of one particular delivery.”
“Was it blankets?” DeNae asked.
“A stone.”
“That wouldn’t be a very comfortable blanket,” I said.
“It was Jasperal. Your grandmother had shown me a picture in one of her mineral books. An orange stone with creamy patches, rather like a piece of sunrise.”
“Could you eat it?” Tara asked.
“No.”
“She was going to ask,” Lala told him.
Grandpa’s delivery was bound for a greenhouse beyond the northern dunes. Jasperal absorbed warmth during daylight and released it slowly after dark. Farmers placed it beside delicate seedlings to keep them from freezing.
“Grandma had read that part aloud,” he said. “Fortunately, I remembered it.”
That evening, his courier van broke down.
The heater stopped. Outside, frost crept across the windows.
Grandpa wrapped himself in his spare coat, but his fingers grew so stiff he could barely hold his tools.
Then he remembered the crate.
“Were you allowed to open it?” Oksana asked.
“The seal had to be broken. I wrote down exactly why.”
Inside, nestled in straw, lay the Jasperal.
It felt warm.
Grandpa placed it beside him. Gradually, his fingers loosened. He warmed his tools against it, repaired the frozen fuel valve, and reached the greenhouse before morning.
“Did they mind that you used their stone?” I asked.
The gardener shook her head.
“It kept our seedlings warm on the journey,” she told him. “I’m glad it kept you warm too.”
At home, Grandpa admitted what had happened.
Grandma fetched her book.
“Did she say, ‘I told you so’?” Lala asked.
“No. She read me the part about Jasperal again.”
“Did you listen this time?” DeNae asked.
Grandpa smiled.
“I remember every word.”
I moved my cushion closer to the heater.
“Next time Grandma reads to us,” I said, “I’m listening too.”
Tara nodded.
“Especially the bit about which stones you can eat.”

Отредактировано BrownGunner6864 (Сегодня 04:11:49)

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D8ab2f

Guild: Double D’s

День 2

Гильдия Ёжик в тумане

Хоббольт

— Дедушка, а бабушка правда разбиралась в космических минералах лучше учёных?

— Лучше не лучше, а однажды благодаря ей я не отправил на переплавку целое состояние!

Дедушка устроился поудобнее, а из-под кресла высунулась красная мордочка Навигатора.

— Было это давно. Получил я заказ доставить небольшой ящик с минералом под названием Хоббольт. Обычный груз, если не считать трёх замков, охранной пломбы и надписи «Не подвергать воздействию солнечного света».

Название показалось знакомым. Вспомнил: ваша бабушка как-то целый вечер читала мне про этот камень. А я тогда больше интересовался её пирогом, чем геологией.

— И что в нём особенного? — спросила внучка.

— Хоббольт называли камнем забытых звёзд. В старинных книгах писали, что его кристаллы рождаются глубоко под марсианской поверхностью и способны сохранять свет давно погасших небесных тел. Поэтому учёные изучали их, пытаясь узнать, каким было небо миллионы лет назад.

По дороге началась пылевая буря. Видимость — нулевая, навигатор барахлит, а мой тушкан Навигатор сидит на панели и смотрит на грузовой отсек.

Вдруг оттуда пробился фиолетовый свет.

Я остановился, проверил ящик и обнаружил, что крышка немного приоткрылась. Внутри лежал кристалл, а над ним мерцало крошечное звёздное небо.

И среди этих звёзд я увидел три яркие точки, расположенные точно так, как на старой карте из бабушкиной книги.

Тогда я вспомнил ещё одну её фразу: «Если Хоббольт покажет три звезды, ищи под ними дорогу».

Я посмотрел на карту Марса. Три горные вершины впереди совпадали с расположением звёзд. Между ними проходил давно заброшенный тоннель.

Рискнул свернуть туда — и благополучно объехал бурю.

— Значит, камень показывал будущее? — удивился внук.

— Нет, прошлое. Просто иногда старые дороги оказываются полезнее новых.

Доставил я Хоббольт в обсерваторию, получил премию и первым делом купил вашей бабушке редкое издание её любимой книги о минералах.

— А она обрадовалась?

— Ещё как! Правда, сначала спросила, почему я наконец запомнил название камня, а не рецепт пирога.

Дедушка рассмеялся.

— С тех пор я внимательно слушал всё, что рассказывала бабушка. Особенно когда она говорила о звёздах.

Он посмотрел на старую фотографию на каминной полке и тихо добавил:

— Некоторые люди тоже умеют хранить свет. Даже когда их уже нет рядом.

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