add lock to build.sh

.vscode/settings.json

@@ -75,6 +75,7 @@
         "interplanar",
         "jotdown",
         "Karmel",
+        "Kelemvor",
         "kenku",
         "knotwork",
         "Laeral",

acl.cool/site/draft/umbral10.dj

@@ -2,15 +2,31 @@
 
 _Last time on Umbral Gaze..._
 
-Our band of heroes learned about Cheshira the Night Hag from Mayola Ekris, listened covertly to Carmal's arcane explications, talked with the Open Lord regarding their next target, and received a warning from Tasha to show it no mercy. Venturing through basement passages under the headquarters of a shady fishers' guild--- contacts of the Open Lord--- the party achieved a portal room from which a grizzly kenku has just flung them onward to the place of their next adventure.
+Our band of heroes learned more about Cheshira, the Night Hag, from Mayola Ekris, listened covertly to Carmal's arcane explications, talked with the Open Lord regarding their next target, and received a warning from Tasha to show it no mercy. Venturing through basement passages under the headquarters of a shady fishers' guild--- contacts of the Open Lord--- the party achieved a portal room from which a grizzled kenku flung them onward to the place of their next adventure.
 
 {.thematic}
 ***
 
-Ribbons of a thousand colors swirl about the party; their fingers and toes grow numb in seconds that feel like minutes. Teleportation is _usually_ too quick to even notice; what's causing _this_ lurching, lurid tornado, the they can only begin to guess.
+Ribbons of a thousand colors swirl about the party; their fingers and toes grow numb with the jolting pressure of the portal. Teleportation is _usually_ too quick to notice; what's causing this lurching, lurid tornado, the they can only begin to guess.
 
-With a thump and a clatter and a choking cloud of _something_ white in the new air all about them, the magic deposits its captives at last onto material ground. Or, at least they assume it's ground--- with their vision so obscured, they really could be standing on anything. Moments pass, in which adventurers wave their hands blindly before their eyes and cough dryly as dust desiccates their throats, and the dust begins to settle. Adventures can make out their comrades across the cramped, single-window-lit room in which they find themselves, and determine the source of the thumps and clatter to be the myriad of destroyed objects and burst flour sacks in jumbles and heaps just beyond the edge of the teleportation circle. Judging by the nature of detritus and the placement and dimension of the window--- high and narrow--- the party determine that they've landed in some sort of storage room and destroyed its contents in doing. Unsettlingly, as they look around, they notice too some humanoid bones, several skeletons worth, in fact. 
+With a thump and a clatter and a choking cloud of something white in the new air all about them, the magic deposits its captives at last onto solid ground. They assume it's ground, anyway--- with their vision so obscured, they really could be standing on anything. Moments pass in which our heroes wave their hands blindly before their eyes and cough dryly as dust desiccates their throats before the dust begins to settle. Each can make out their comrades across the cramped, single-window-lit room in which they find themselves, and the party determines the source of the thumps and clatter to be the myriad of destroyed objects and burst flour sacks in jumbles and heaps just beyond the edge of the teleportation circle. Judging by the nature of detritus and the placement and dimension of the window--- high and narrow--- the party decide that they've landed in some sort of storage room, and destroyed its contents in doing. Unsettlingly, as they look around, they notice too some humanoid bones--- several skeletons worth, in fact. 
 
-The commotion draws attention. Wondering voices penetrate the thin wooden door that hangs at the top of a warped set of equally thin and wooden stairs, and party members overhear a strange argument play out on the other side. The people who live here can't seem to decide whether their uninvited guests are _zombies_ or not. Carmal puts their fears to rest, calling out with reassuring words articulated better than any zombie could manage. A brief exchange later, the party come upstairs to greet their unexpecting hosts.
+The commotion draws attention. Wondering voices penetrate the thin wooden door that hangs at the top of a warped set of equally thin and wooden stairs, and party members overhear a strange argument play out on the other side. The people who live here can't seem to decide whether their uninvited guests are _zombies_ or not. Carmal aborts their fearful spirals, calling out with reassuring words articulated more clearly than any zombie could manage. A brief exchange later, the party come upstairs to greet their hosts.
 
-The house above the teleporter cellar is small, in good repair, but disheveled. 
+The house above the teleporter cellar is small, in good repair, but disheveled. A trio of gnomes stand huddled in a corner of the one main room from which they regard the party through narrowed eyes. Behind them, to the side, an ancient human sits slumped in an upholstered rocking chair, asleep or _possibly_ dead. As Carmal explains the party's situation, the gnomes' gazes relax, and each side gathers what it needs to know about the other--- as far as the gnomes are concerned, if these flour-covered folk can vanquish the monster terrorizing Raven's Bluff[^ravens], the residents will be all too happy to provide information. They do so voices still trembling from the earlier surprise. This house apparently belongs to the old man in the chair, a gentleman called "Roth", who has been kind enough to allow this gnomish family to stay with him ever since the streets grew deadly too deadly to brave with the invasion of a beholder calling itself "the Waking" 'round a week or so ago, but the gnomes, for all their fear and excitement regarding the matter, know relatively little else about the town's misfortune--- when the party ask about "Lord Quarrel", it's Roth that finally speaks up to break some sorry news: Lord Silverhand's contact died to a zombie horde not more than two or three days past.
+
+It seems the heroes must resign themselves to do without official aid--- not that the government could have been much help anyway, if the rest of Roth's story is true. The fellow creaks out a harrowing narrative: waves of zombies came without warning over the hills into the market square one sunny morning. Behind them lorded a beholder, its skin matching theirs in state of pallor and decay. Zombies were thought an impossibility in Ravens Bluff--- a True Temple of the Dead[^temple] protects its people from undead incursion--- a jet, gargoyle-decorated tower in city center from which children run in fear of what might hide in the aura of its gloom--- but clearly the invaders tender some magical defense against the temple's power, for it and its two scythe-wielding guardians have lain dormant since the armies of the orb appeared.
+
+Heading outside for a moment to assure himself of the party's immediate safety while they decide what they want to do next, Gottlob glimpses sloughing faces loom o'er gable rooves as the satyr looks on to the town center--- giant zombies patrol the city's streets, and there can be little doubt that throngs of minor confederates mill unseen at their feet. Squinting to overcome the distance, he notices too a tower of gleaming obsidian that peaks above the surrounding structures--- tall in their own right--- which he surmises by its aesthetic tenor to be aforementioned Temple. Convinced that sneaking around the streets will be a task not undertaken lightly, he returns to his comrades to relay what he's discovered.
+
+Considering the likely peril of venturing out on foot at night, the party decides to take advantage; they'll scout the city from above, concealed by magic and the umbrage of a cloud-covered sky. Perhaps an airborne llama or invisible pterosaur will be able to see what suppress the temple's protective power from closer up. Before they leave, a plan is hatched: if the party members sent ahead deem it a reasonable track, our heroes will make their way to the temple and restore its warding power, to vanquish the hordes and their undead master without a fight--- or so they hope. These sorts of things are never _quite_ devoid of risk.
+
+{.thematic}
+***
+
+Carmal and Louisa arrive at Kelemvor's Temple without incident. Its tower protrudes from the roof of an otherwise elaborate but conventional church-building like the bare trunk of a redwood pushed up through timbers and hardened over millennia, a self-imposing column of stone. It glints faintly even in the feeble light of the moon that comes filtered through heavy curls of cloud, polished obsidian bricks bearing only that caustic light and seeming to swallow all the rest. Acres of graveyard make the church a `____` skirt, and among the headstones not one zombie can be found. Just beyond the low wall that separates the cemetery from a city square on one side and wide streets on the others, hundreds mill, apparently without aim, but they never venture nearer than the wall. It seems the beholder managed merely to reduce the temples power, rather than to suppress it entirely.
+
+
+[^temple]: The [True Temple of the Dead](https://forgottenrealms.fandom.com/wiki/True_Temple_of_the_Dead) is a holy place of [Kelemvor](https://forgottenrealms.fandom.com/wiki/Kelemvor), god of death, that protects the surrounding area against undead. It is guarded by two [minor Deaths](https://forgottenrealms.fandom.com/wiki/Minor_death)--- terrifying creatures.
+
+[^ravens]: [Ravens Bluff](https://forgottenrealms.fandom.com/wiki/Ravens_Bluff), a.k.a. the Living City, is a bustling port town in [Vesperin](https://forgottenrealms.fandom.com/wiki/Vesperin).

build.sh

@@ -1,6 +1,14 @@
 #! /usr/bin/env nix-shell
 #! nix-shell --pure -i bash
-#! nix-shell --pure -p nodejs_24 bash harfbuzz soupault woff2 jotdown python3 recode perl538Packages.LaTeXML minify
+#! nix-shell --pure -p nodejs_24 bash harfbuzz soupault woff2 jotdown python3 recode perl538Packages.LaTeXML minify flock
+
+LOCKFILE="/tmp/$(basename "$0")87230498650689.lock"
+exec 200> "$LOCKFILE"
+
+if ! flock -n 200; then
+    echo "Error: Another instance of $(basename "$0") is already running."
+    exit 1
+fi
 
 if ! [[ -d pgvv/ ]]; then
     python3 -m venv pgvv