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Governor Ekrine of the city of Clen is a busy man. With all the riots in the city, the fighting in the south, and the loss of an entire Auxilia battalion, his workload has gotten worse.

So, you try to be patient as you, your parents, and your brother- and sister-in-law stand, laden with parcels and bags, in the hallway outside an office in the garrison. The office is home to the Logistics Command staff, to whom you nominally report now that you’ve been transferred, and the people you need to talk to in order to have civilians stay in the barracks.

The door swings open, and a secretary sticks her head out. “All right, Sergeant, come on in.”

“Thanks.” You shuck your bags and catch your dad’s eye. “Hey, I’m on. Be right back.”

“Sure.” He shuffles over to your stuff while you close the door behind you.

The Major inside shakes his head without looking up as the secretary resumes her seat. “All right, Sergeant, what the hell is this? I see your name on my ‘unheld priority appointments’ list. It’s right next to Admiral Dar and Count Gerhart. Why are you sharing a list with nobility?”

> “Because I have a report to deliver to the King, sir.”
> “Couldn’t tell you.”
> writein

>>32762617
>> “Because I have a report to deliver to the King, sir.”
All bidness.

>>32762698
Yeah, sure. Why not?
Let's go with that.

“Sir. I’m on the list because the King is expecting my report,” you say politely. “And my family is here because they have nowhere else to go.”

“Fantastic,” the Major grunts. He drops the paper he was reading in the trash and glares at you. “Stand at attention, Sergeant.”

You snap to as he slowly rises to his feet. “Sergeant Ledren, your report is no more vital to his Majesty than anybody else’s, and my resources are taxed to the limit by this war and the loss of the force in the woods. Your parents can stay in the boot hall, if I can find the room. If you were expecting more, put them up for a room at the inn.” He sits back down and waves at the door. “Go deliver that report.”

“Major-”

“Now,” he says curtly. It’s a dismissal.

You snap off a razor-sharp salute and stomp out, slamming the door behind you. “That bureaucratic asshole!” you growl.

The family looks over in surprise. “Did he turn us away?”

“He said you two can sleep in the recruit halls,” you say, indicating your parents. “You two, he didn’t mention,” you finish. Darril and Laura look at each other askance.

“So…what now?” Laura asks testily.


>Go straight to the Governor and tell him about the death threats and security leak
>Go see Dietrich or the King instead
>writein

>>32762984
Ugh, I need to go check the paranoia from the last thread about talking

>>32762984
>>Go straight to the Governor and tell him about the death threats and security leak
Leave parents, Darril, and Laura here for now. Major I-Dont-Understand-The-Point-Of-Priority-Lists didn't say they couldn't stay. At least long enough for the Governor or the king to find a place for them.

>>32762984
At this point, I'm getting a little tired of being bossed around by folks like this major.

We should go back in there, speak with the Voice, and inform this major he's fucking potatoes compared to what we are trying to accomplish.

>>32763289
Voice did appeal somewhat as an option. But it is a once a day thing and the day just started.

Looks like I need a runoff.

1) Use the Voice to get good accommodations for the family
2) Go ask the Governor to help instead

One vote each. Vote closes in twenty minutes.

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>>32763446
>1) Use the Voice to get good accommodations for the family
Ah. fuck. We never use it enough anyway.

>>32763446
1) Regulate the Major with the utmost ferocity and urgency.

>>32763446
>2) Go ask the Governor to help instead
Because this
>>32763548
is a frivolous use of the Voice.

>>32763446
2

...Okay, a tie.

And for some reason, people can't seem to understand that Voice of the Divine doesn't automatically pass speech checks. That's Asa's Speech, and it answers questions automatically. Elsa doesn't have an ability that can compel people to do what she wants.

>>32764138
Yet.

Okay, switching >>32763639 to 2.

You stew over your choices for a minute. “Mmm…nope. Sorry about this, you all, but I’m taking this up with the Governor,” you say.

Darril and Laura both start. “What? How do you know the Governor?” Darril asks.

“Just trust me. Stay put,” you say. “This won’t take long.”

You jog down the halls, slowing to snap off salutes at passing officers, until you come to halt outside the Governor’s work office. He’s just leaving actually, with some guards falling into place behind him. “Sergeant, welcome,” he says cordially, though the skin around his eyes tightens a bit as he says it. You’re a Herald, all right, of bad news, it seems. “I was just heading out to lunch, I’m afraid.”

“Governor Ekrine, sir, my apologies for interrupting,” you say with rising ire you keep well in check. “Where are you taking lunch, if I may?”

“A bistro in the area that was cleaned up after the riot,” Ekrine informs you. “A large one, nice and public. Good to be seen, eh? Shows the city is cleaned up after all the fighting and things can go back to normal.”


> ”May I inquire as to when you will return, sir? I have a small report to file in person.”
> “Postpone, sir. This is crucial.”
> “Can I tag along?”
> just go see somebody else (whom?)
> writein

>>32764300
> ”May I inquire as to when you will return, sir? I have a small report to file in person.”

>>32764300
> ”May I inquire as to when you will return, sir? I have a small report to file in person.”
Inquiring minds want to know.

>>32764300
> writein
"Postpone a few minutes, sir. It won't take long to explain."
Wait till we're in the office.
"The conspiracy identified me from the raid on Feathers. They attacked the other survivors and myself, they managed to get my eyes. They don't think I'm anyone important but I was left a letter with a threat against my family. I need someplace safe for them to stay. Right now they're at the barracks, but I would be very grateful if you could find them someplace safer once you're back from lunch."

“May I inquire as to when you will return, sir? I have a small report to file in person,” you say.

“An hour. Two, at most,” the Governor says.

Too long. You search your brain for an idea that will work, and won’t leave your family gathering dust. Abruptly, inspiration strikes. “Sir, perhaps you’d be so kind as to read this while you’re gone, then?” you ask, passing him the death threat note. As you do, he catches sight of your eyes and flinches.

“Sergeant, what happened to your eyes?” he demands.

You deliver your words as casually as you can. “I lost them in the riots, sir. I had somebody regrow them for me.”

“But…they were brown before,” he says, before recognition dawns. “Ah, I see. Yes, I’ll read it over. In the meantime…”

“May I have my group wait in your office, sir?” you ask quickly. “All of them?”

“Of course, of course,” he says, too calmly. His spycraft is worse than yours. “And you received a note from a courier, addressed to me but directed to you. It’s in my office as well.”

“Thanks, sir.” You salute and stand back as his entourage passes you.


>Read the note now, collect family later
>Go get family now

>>32764782
Collect note, read on way to family.

>>32764782
>Read it now
I think this is how we told Firesoul woman to contact us? Shouldn't be too long a letter. Either Sun can wreck the floating generator or he can't.

>>32764782
>Go get family now
Grab everybody, then head in to check out the note.
We have mail!

You duck into the office and snatch up the note, reading as you return to the spot where your family is waiting.

>Sergeant
I was able to dispatch a letter by courier to Master Sun. I won’t get a response for over two weeks, which is really quite impressive, considering how he can be anywhere on the continent when you want to get ahold of him. The Aerie we’re after is Skyborn, one of the newer Harpy cities. I state this after some research the other day, and I am confident in my discoveries. I am in town for another twenty four days, if you need me; I’m staying at the penthouse suite at the Courtesan Guildhall. Do drop by if you wish to keep me abreast of the developments in your hunt.

Finest fortune be upon you, my friend.

Traveler Garren
‘A Soul, By Fire Consumed, Can Not Be Contained’

Two weeks? At this rate, they’ll all be dead by then. Or you will.

You pocket the note as you reach your family, still waiting awkwardly in the flow of military traffic. “All right, people, I found us a place to crash,” you say. “Governor Ekrine was kind enough to lend a weary soldier his office for brief use. If you’ll all come along?”

With a few sidelong looks, your group trundles up to the office and files in, drawing rather a lot of surprised stares from the passers-by. As you enter and seal the door, a small magic circle appears on the glass pane. You won’t be overheard.

Bags clatter to the floor behind you. “All right, Elsa,” Laura asks exasperatedly. “What is this about?”


>Reveal all
>Reveal (some)
>writein

>>32765269
>>Reveal all
Ask Asa if she has some time so at least Laura doesn't think Elsa is insane.

>>32765269
>Reveal all


Asa already said she would explain everything to the king and our family tonight. We shouldn't call her here early. If they doubt us use Asa's speech.

You drop the bag you grabbed on a chair and sit down in another, racking your brain. “Laura, Darril…okay. You deserve the whole story.” You tap your back where you got hit. “I was injured in the forest fight. Very, very seriously. I should have died. Took a knife right in the spine.”

Darril gasps, bur Laura rolls her eyes in frustration. “You said that already!” she points out.

“Yeah, and you didn’t believe me!” you shoot back, startling her. “That hurt, Laura. You called me a cultist.”

“You have a cult tattoo!” she points out, but grudgingly. She may not have realized how offensive what she said could have been.

The bandana flies off your forehead as you snatch it away. “Bullshit! Look here! This gem? It lets me talk to Asa!”

“She’s telling the truth, Laura,” Coby says. “She told us everything when she got home.”

Laura looks from your parents, to you, to her stunned-looking husband. “…You’re not mad. Okay…so what does this mean?”

“It means I’m a Herald.” You tap the gem. “This lets me speak to Asa. I can send her messages, hear some in reply. I have new abilities. All sorts of stuff.”

“Like what?” Darril asks.

“I can channel her power to speak to people,” you explain. “More abilities will come in time. I’ll go get Jerome once you’re all settled, and he can vouch for me, since you apparently don’t trust me,” you add, with a cool glare at your sister-in-law. She looks away, flushing.


>Use one of your abilities to prove your words (which one)?
>don’t use them, just go get Jerome and bring him here from work

>>32765857
>Don't use them
Asa's avatar is going to confirm in person. Just go get Jerome.

>>32765857
>>don’t use them, just go get Jerome and bring him here from work
Why waste powers to prove yourself when you could be using them to actually do some good?

>>32765857
>>don’t use them, just go get Jerome and bring him here from work

“All right, you know what?” you ask. “I’ll just go get him now.”

“Wait, didn’t he tell everybody at the armory that you died?” Belle asks.

That brings you up short. “Uh…hmm. Well…some of my neighbors have seen me…hell. I can’t stay covert forever,” you mutter. “I’ll just run in, grab him, come back.”

“If you hurry, you can get him coming back from lunch,” Coby points out.

“Right, good idea.” You leap up and retie the bandana. “Be right back. Don’t go anywhere.”


The run to the armory is mercifully short and easy on your aching legs, and you arrive just as worker start filing back in from their lunch break. Jerome’s big profile isn’t visible, but you know he likes to eat with a few of the others.

You keep watch from an alleyway and strain your incredible new eyes, and sure enough, there he is, on the far side of the crowd having a smoke outside. He doesn’t smoke, he’s just enjoying the breeze. You can’t catch his eye from here, though, he’s talking to his supervisor, with a very mopey look on his face.


>wat do

>>32766344
Go in and tell his supervisor there's a family emergency and we need him.

He’s busy, clearly, but…

Mai’te damn you, you put him in danger. You swallow your emotions and brush your fingers on your collar. “Okay, acting time.”

You quickly cross the busy avenue and walk up to Jerome’s supervisor, a light elf whose name escapes you. “Sir?” you ask as you approach.

The supervisor spits his tobacco wad into the trash and turns to peer at you. “Yeah?”

“Is Jerome Ledren available?” you ask.

He glances over your insignia. “Logistics got an order? Place it with the boss,” he grunts.

“Is Jerome Ledren available?” you ask, more forcefully.

He glares. “Yeah. Why?”

“His wife received a death threat,” you say accurately. “We’re collecting him for his own safety.”

The supervisor jerks his head back. “Thought she was already dead!”

“She lived through the battle, but she’s being chased by…look, it’s not yours to know,” you say, feigning aloofness for his sake. “Just get him. Now.”

He squints at you through coal-blackened eyelids, but shrugs. “Whatever.” He turns to the door and hollers. “Oi! Jerome! Get out here!”

A few seconds later, Jerome appears at the door. “Yeah?”

“Got a person here for you,” the supervisor says distantly, jerking a thumb at you. You put a finger to your lips and tilt your head towards the castle.

He stares, but nods. “Thanks, boss. I…may not be-”

“Yeah, yeah, you got the weekend off, I know,” the super says, tossing a ‘goodbye’ over his shoulder as he walks in.

Jerome growls. “He said I could take the next two weeks off to mourn, just a day ago.”

Oops. “Then I had to tell him your wife was alive,” you say guiltily. “Sorry.”

He sighs. “Whatever. We can use the money, I guess. So what’s up?”

> Explain on the way
> Just go and explain when you get there

>>32766861
> Explain on the way

>>32766861
>> Explain on the way

You start off towards the castle and he falls into your wake. “Long story short, I’m made,” you say. “One of the conspirators fingered me as the person who captured Feathers the other night.”

“Feathers?”

“One of the conspirators. I caught her with some Brotherhood backing me up.” You walk through the streets as nonchalantly as you can. As you pass a bakery, your stomach rumbles, reminding you that you haven’t eaten since before you left to fight the riot the previous day. Was it really only eighteen hours ago? “The conspirator, Soutri, he sent a letter to where my parents ran during the riot. It names me, specifically, and it says he’ll kill us, the whole family, if I don’t stop hunting him.”

Jerome goes silent for several more seconds, until you turn to see him staring at you, pale and aghast. “…He’s going to kill us?” he manages.

“He’ll TRY,” you say coldly. “He won’t succeed. That’s why we’re leaving. I’m taking you to the castle. We’ll all be safe there. You, me, my parents, your brother and Laura, all of us.”

Slowly, Jerome resumes walking. “Your new job scares the shit out of me, Elsa,” he says quietly.

“I’m sorry.” You squeeze his hand as he draws close, then decide to hold it for a while. “Really sorry. Asa will help when I explain everything tonight.”


>discuss something else
>go to the family as fast as you can

>>32767573
>ask how long he'd be comfortable staying at the castle
>maybe get some quick food

>>32767573
>>go to the family as fast as you can

The two of you stay quiet until you reach the castle. Once inside the corriors, you make your way to the Governor’s office. The Guards outside are clearly unhappy with all the peasants in the room, but don’t try to stop you. You wonder if they recognize you with your new eyes.

Once inside, you sit down where you were before and collect your thoughts while the others welcome Jerome with various hugs and words of relief. When they all settle down, Jerome asks the obvious question. “Uh…Elsa, look…I know we need to talk about this threat, and all,” he says awkwardly. “But…why are your eyes silver?”

You think back to losing them and shudder. “Asa. She regrew my eyes after I got hurt in the fight last night,” you say.

Jerome gasps. “What? You got hurt?”

“Yeah. Sorry, I didn’t get home until after you’d left for the armory.” You tap the side of your head where the scar begins. “I was jumped by two people outside the library. I think they were hired by one of the conspirators. One of the attackers, anyway. They’re mentioned in the note.”

Jerome leans over to your face and gently cups your chin with his hands. “Elsa…are you all right?” he asks. His voice is overflowing with concern, and you hasten to reassure him.

“Better than ever, I promise,” you say. “Don’t worry. Asa helped me.”

“What happened?” he asks worriedly.


(con’t)

For the benefit of the others, you start from the beginning. You talk about the battle in the woods, about the Triad. You talk about the conspirators, about Lieutenant Ekrine dying. You talk about your failing Asa’s test on the road, and then succeeding at the next one. You share stories about your travels, and about Asa’s burden. You talk about the arrival at the city, and with tears in your eyes, you relate your shame at arriving home after the Mortuary Officers did. You force out your feelings about being Asa’s servant, good and bad, and the weight of your responsibility. You hang your head and relate the lies you’ve told to cover your identity.

It’s not all bad, though. You talk about the depth of your new understanding and power. You talk about the warm, happy glow you feel inside when Asa’s nearby, and the way your emotions reverberate with hers. You talk about how she can heal you at night, and how she actually did. You even talk about the Brotherhood, the Firesoul, Feathers, her interrogation.

When it’s all over, and you’re talking about the note, Governor Ekrine speaks up. You start at the sound of his voice; you hadn’t even realized he was back. “Your Eminence, did you notice something about this note?” he asks, lifting it. “He never refers to your new status as Herald. He merely calls you Sergeant. He may not know your true power.”

>”So?”
>”Yeah, but it doesn’t matter.”
>writein

>>32768456
>>writein
"I did notice. But unless I start running around in a mask he'll realize I haven't backed down regardless of whether or not I reveal myself as a herald. Making sure my family was safe was my priority"

>>32768456
>”Yeah, but it doesn’t matter. My identity is enough for him to threaten my family.”

“I did notice.” You take the note back and tap the last line with your finger. “It doesn’t mean anything. If I show my face in public again, he’ll understand that I haven’t backed down, and he won’t leave my family alone.”

“Are you sure?” Ekrine asks with a cagey grin you wouldn’t normally associate with the old soldier. “He may or may not know whether YOU know he may have the Orb. If he starts killing people, the Triad will know instantly if he used the Orb or not. If he does, they’ll kill the city, in his mind – consider what they nearly did mere hours ago. And if he doesn’t, they’ll just tell the King, and he’ll send the Guard after Soutri. Remember, the Avatars of the Triad accompanied His Highness yesterday.”

>”What are you proposing?”
>writein

>>32768830
>>”What are you proposing?”

My audience appears to be dead, so I'll pick up tomorrow after this post.

>>32768830
>He doesn't need to use the orb. He already sent assassins after me. Were it not for Asa I would still be blind."

You frown across the circle of chairs at the Governor. “Sir? What exactly are you proposing?”

“Put simply, you branch out,” he says, rising to his feet and browsing the rows of books on his shelves. “The Firesouls and the Brotherhood are incredibly powerful, but you may well be hindered by them while trying to stay covert. If you had a means of moving around the city other than the tunnel network, Soutri may not even know you’re still here. Alternately…”

He pulls a book from the shelf and sets it on his desk, clearing a spot from the many papers as he does. “Hmm. Maybe…you could pursue the mercenaries who served him and deprive him of knowledge. Do you have that list?”

You produce the list of names Asa updated and pass it over. He looks it over once and nods. “Kerry Ding and this Hooks fellow seem like good targets. One of them must know where Soutri hides. Kill them, and you can get the knowledge you need to kill Soutri and blunt the conspiracy, and keep your family safe.”

“Yeah, about that,” Coby says awkwardly. “Sir, forgive me, but what about us? We can’t go home.”

“You could, actually,” Ekrine muses. “Soutri can’t afford to be seen in public, since the Auxilia clearly knows of his involvement in the forest attacks. He would hardly bother to attack you while Her Eminence is alive. But if you feel unsafe…I’ll be dining with the King tonight. I can pass along a message asking for safe housing, if you wish.”

“Perfect, sir,” you say quickly, before anyone can protest. “That will do nicely.”


[Temporary End of Thread]

>>32769723
thaaaanks for running
hopefully we get overnight bumps
If not there ain't nothing wrong with making a new thread

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Thanks.

Here's a now-obsolete character portrait!

I say now obsolete because her armor is now enchanted, she has a new scar, and her eyes are a different color.

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>>32769925
Elsa! New and Improved! Now with new flavors like Diet and Scar!

>>32770873
Nice alterations!
Also bedtime bump.

bumps

Alright, thanks for keeping it alive! I'll be updating throughout the day!

“The King?” Darril asks weakly. “I’m…hardly dressed for it,” he says, looking shamefully at his casual clothing. But then, as the only person in the family who interacts with nobles regularly anyway, he’d probably be more aware than you of what’s needed.

“I think it would be better if you didn’t dine with the King personally,” Ekrine says politely. “It’s hardly conducive to hiding from a powerful mercenary.”

“True,” Darril says, wilting with relief. “Yes, good idea, Governor.”

“And I should point out, sir, that Asa and King Maas both expressed an interest in meeting me this evening to discuss the current state of affairs,” you put it. “Well…actually, the King wanted to meet with me last night, but I was in the infirmary, so…”

“I quite understand, and so will he,” the Governor says graciously. “I suspect he will want to visit tonight.” He rises to his feet from behind his desk and rests his hands on the table, leaning forward over the maps and books. “In the interim…you must be hungry. I’ll ask the porters to prepare a meal for you and send it to my office while we find you temporary lodgings.”


>Discuss something else (firesoul note? Brotherhood payment?)
>Go and talk to (person)
>writein

>Go and talk to the Firesoul Garren

As long as she’s in town, Garren may be useful. You may as well see what she was talking about. “Governor, with your leave, I’d like to go and speak to the Firesoul in town,” you say. “She and I have been in touch.”

“Which? Garren or Kelscik?” Ekrine asks. “Garren is the one who is guest-lecturing at the Mages’ Academy.”

“I haven’t met Kelscik,” you say. “Who’s that?”

Ekrine pulls a scrap of paper from the mess on his desk. “We keep tabs on all Firesouls around here. Kelscik is a War Mage, currently serving a six-year contract at the Royal War Mage College,” he says. “Garren is just passing through, I believe.”

“I met Garren, she’s staying for another twenty four days,” you say. “That was the message from before. Sorry, but I assumed it would be safer for messages to be sent here than my house.” You grimace. “Fat lot of good that did.”

“Indeed, and I feel for your problem,” Ekrine says graciously. “If you wish to depart, then of course you may do so.”


>Do something else first
>Go straight to the Guildhall

>>32777756
>Do something else first
Get like some food or something.

>>32777816
Sounds like a good idea.

As much as you need to save the world and all, you’re still hungry. “Actually, if I’m honest, I haven’t eaten in nineteen hours,” you say sheepishly. “Perhaps I’ll stay for that meal.”

“Of course, where are my manners?” Ekrine says. “I’ll have your baggage sent to a guest quarter for you all and send some food there.” He pokes his head out the door and exchanges some words with a Guard outside, who scurries off to find a servant.

While they’re discussing, Jerome leans over to you. “How are you feeling?” he asks, eyeing your new facial features.

“Really great,” you assure him softly. “Asa healed me up, better than ever.”

“Good.” He turns his eyes away as you lean back. “Sorry. I’m just really worried about you.”

You reach over and squeeze his hand again. “I know, sweetheart. I wish I could make this easier on us both.”

Ekrine returns and claps his hands together. “All right, I’ve arranged for three guest rooms on the diplomatic floor to freed up for you. Feel free to depart at your leisure. A porter will be waiting to direct you when you get up there.”

“Thank you, your Lordship,” Belle says, bowing as she collects her things. “This means a lot to us, that you would take us in.”

The Governor waves it off. “Think nothing of it. This is an affront to the entire Auxilia, it would be downright callow of me not to help.”


(con’t)

Two floors up, a porter is indeed waiting for you, dressed in her finery and carrying a clipboard. “Ah, Sergeant, greetings,” she says as you huff and puff closer with your clothing and equipment. “You’ve been assigned the Lorelai Suite,” she says, glancing at her paper. “It’s a three-bedroom suite, at the end of the corridor. Simply leave your bags there with notes as to which go to which bedroom and I’ll see to it that they’re sorted.”

“I thank you,” you say, taking the keys – seven of them, still warm. A mage must have just created them, or a locksmith just cut them. “To whom should we speak if we would like to take a meal?” you ask, Asa’s power over language effortlessly sculpting your formal tone.

“Why, myself,” the porter – a very young dark elf woman with pleasant but nonthreatening features – replies. “I will be here for the next several hours. The kitchen is serving pressed duck and julienne salad today.”

“We’ve travelled a long way today,” you say. “I think six meals will be perfect.”

“I shall have them dispatched, then,” the porter says, bowing and jotting down notes. “Have a bountiful day, ma’am.”

Inside the rooms, which are decorated with the sort of modest and tasteful luxury that you would rather hope to see given your tax rates, you all drop your bags on the floor and start sorting them out. Exhaustion creeps into your limbs as you stretch and yawn; you put a finger to your forehead to page Asa and find leather in the way. You’re so tired you don’t even remember putting your bandana back on.

“Elsa, do you know how long we’ll be here?” Darril asks. “The school where I work won’t accept a leave of absence of more than a day or two with no notice.”


(con’t)

“I think it’s safe for you to go to work,” you say with another yawn. “The guy who’s threatening me needs to stay covert; I don’t think he’ll bother tracking us all now that we’ve left our homes. If you feel unsafe, though…shit, I dunno. I never planned for this.”

“Maybe they’ll listen if I mentioned the death threat,” Darril says hesitantly. “I mean…I won’t, unless you want me to. It was directed at you.”

“No, it was directed at Mom and Dad,” you correct with a surge of anger you feel through your exhaustion. “Bastard. Targeting my family because he can’t target me.”

“What did this man do, anyway? How did he find us?” Belle asks.

“If I knew, I’d have killed him already,” you say wearily. You drop onto a sofa and kick off your shoes, stretching out and trying to focus. “I’ll ask Asa and the King tonight. And you’ll all be there,” you add, pointing them all out. “No arguments. This concerns you all now, and I specifically promised to have Asa drop by.”

“No need to bother her,” Belle starts. “I mean, she’s busy.”

“She loves in-person chats, and she wants to make sure we all understand the gravity of this problem,” you insist. “She’ll come.”


>discuss (thing)
>nap until food arrives

>>32778462
>nap until food arrives

>>32770873
Sprite Elves live!

>>32778462
>nap until food arrives
It is naps time.

The day’s barely half over and already it’s complex. You just shuffle into one of the bedrooms and collapse on the bed as soon as everybody’s picked rooms.

Half an hour of fitful dreams later, a delightful smells jolts you awake. You peer into the main room to see a few porters and servants laying out a spread of duck and salad that sets your mouth to watering.

“This smells like a really good idea,” you remark, glancing over the food.

“I’m glad,” one of the porters says. “Please enjoy.”

As your family finds seats and digs in, you take stock of them all. Jerome looks uninterested, though of course he already ate lunch. Darril and Laura are discussing some letter from their kids that has their attention, while your parents are eating slowly, looking distracted.

Who can blame them, though? Dad’s a security guard, mom is a textiles factory laborer. Kings and demigods and evil mercenaries are above them.

You swallow the guilt as you eat the admittedly delectable duck. All will be clear tonight.

“So, uh…I guess everybody should know I have a meeting today,” you say. “I’ve arranged to surveill the local Circle chapter,” you say. “I’ll be back before dinner, but I am going to go. I need to see if they can help us.”

“Didn’t you say their leader is losing control?” Coby points out. “What will you do when you get there?”

>”Just spy, for now.”
>”Reveal myself.”
>”Ask pointed questions.”
>”Recce their secret warehouse.”
>writein

>>32779141
>Recce the warehouse
>Spy

I kinda want to reveal our herald status, but we should probably see what these newer members are like first.

“I want to know where this warehouse of theirs is,” you remark as you munch on some cheese strips from the salad. “And I want to know whether or not these overzealous recruitment officers are actually seeking to redirect the group’s attention. Right now, they’re expanding, while Cender’s population isn’t. I want to know why.”

“The country’s population ain’t growing because we’ve hit the birth limit the Triad warned us about back in the day,” Coby grunts. “Can’t have too many people being born and dying without overstressing their ability to capture souls.”

“I meant the group. If their goals aren’t too ambitious, why recruit?” you point out. “I want to see what they’re up to. I’ll be back by dinner.”


>Discuss something else over dessert
>Just grab some civilian clothes and go to the meeting at Arisa’s house like you planned

>>32779479
>Just grab some civilian clothes and go to the meeting at Arisa’s house like you planned

You could go in uniform…but the King’s fears about the Circle may well be justified, and you don’t want to appear to be lending them any military support. Not after last night.

You scarf down some sherbet and throw on a civilian jacket you had stuffed in a duffel bag, along with some casual shoes and headwear to hide the brand. As you do, you stuff the enchanted dagger into a sleeve and tie it off in case you need a weapon quickly. That seems unlikely, but you never know.

As you pass through the main room again, you snag a key for the suite for when you return. “All right. I need to go. I’ll see you all when I get back.”

A chorus of ‘stay safe’ and ‘goodbye’ follows you out the door as you close it behind you.

You actually have a few options here.

>Go on the main streets
>Take the secret tunnel and grab some things from your home as you go (what?)
>writein

>>32779479
>>Just grab some civilian clothes and go to the meeting at Arisa’s house like you planned

Need to kill fast, but bullet too slow

>>32780176
>Take the secret tunnel and grab some things from your home as you go (what?)

No idea on what to grab, but secret entrance is go.

The secret tunnel in the basement of the castle is embarrassingly easy to find. The construction crews may not have highlighted its existence, but neither did they conceal it well: it’s just another door into the utility tunnels under the castle. Slipping past the incredibly bored Guard troops at its entrance, and making a mental note to ask that they be told to allow you to come and go in the future, you orient yourself by the glowing runes scribed on the wall and make your way south, into the military district’s heart.

As you tramp through the dank tunnels, you form a quick list of things you may want to grab from the house. A few bags of clothing, for sure, and Jerome’s civilian boots – his armored work boots aren’t really fit for daily wear. Maybe some jewelry you’re not comfortable leaving in the house? It’s not like you wear much of that, but some of it is heirloom, and the watch was nearly stolen already.

The tunnel is long. Very long. Several miles of fairly straight and poorly lit stone later, the new staircase to your basement appears. You climb up the stairs and note that the lock is a simple mechanical screwlock, with a set of keys hanging off the inside. You grab the keys and slip them into your pocket, taking the time to attach one to your key ring along with the suite key for the castle.

The door into the basement creaks open to reveal the house just as you left it. You walk up into the comfortingly familiar house and start throwing things into the bags. You probably shouldn’t bring them with you to the meeting, but you can grab them on the way back if you’re careful not to be followed.


>Stop somewhere first
>Go to Arisa’s house

>>32780772
>go to Arisa's house

There’s some time to kill, but it would be better if you just left for the meeting. As you recall, the group is assembling at Arisa’s house, which the woman who led the prayer meeting located for you. The route is pretty quiet, actually; the midday traffic consists mostly of carts and wagons pulling goods made that morning to the markets, and the occasional patrol of Guards looking for more rioters who didn’t get the message to go the hell away.

Given the turmoil of the riot, it’s fairly calm here. This is one of the wealthier parts of the merchant district, where there probably wasn’t enough festering discontent to generate much of a riot, even given Haret’s overreaction.

No, it wasn’t an overreaction, you tell yourself. It was a fair thing to do, given the magnitude of the problems in this situation. Still, you got him to back off. Not Asa, not the King, you. That means something.

Arisa’s house is a modest affair, but it’s in the richest part of the district. Maybe she has some other means of income besides the dues from the Circle, you muse as you walk in.

A man in a cloak behind the door stops you. “State your business,” he says, his tone all boredom on the surface, and suspicion underneath. He’s wearing the same cloak as the guys who were shadowing the criers the other day…he’s a Circle member himself.

>writein

>>32781131
"I'm here to attend the meeting."

“I’m just here to attend, my friend,” you say. “Arisa said this was where we were meeting.”

“Oh. All right, go on in,” he says, waving you back.

You walk right past, trying not to let your surprise show. That was…amazingly easy. Then, they are recruiting.

The meeting is being held in the back yard, probably the largest place on the plot. The group is big, you see, perhaps sixty people. Well more than were in attendance in either of the other two assemblies you’ve seen.

Arisa’s on a small podium at the front of the group. She’s not sauced now, at least, though she is drinking from a wine goblet. The milling crowd seems to be separating into two groups as they find seats. The larger group seems to be a bit older, and they’re all wearing those cloaks. The younger, smaller group is wearing a larger variety of clothing, and they seem to be sitting largely by themselves.

>which group do you sit behind to listen?

>>32781625
>Younger, smaller group
>Try to not attract attention

The smaller group lack the cloaks, as do you, so you should sit behind them. Somehow though, you doubt that the groups are as perfectly delineated as Arisa had you believe. You sit at the back and listen carefully as she starts talking.

“Welcome, my friends. I’m so glad so many of you could make it. I assume you all have your information from the criers?” Arisa says without preamble.

Right, right, the information they were supposed to be copy-checking to see if the message was different in different places. It seems superfluous now, but she can’t blow her cover. The groups start passing papers forward, where a pair of older women with extensive facial tattoos that resemble yours collect them.

“Good! All right, we have much to discuss today,” Arisa says once the group settles down. “The riots have ended, and sadly, many souls go to the Triad as a result. I’m very pleased that there were so few incidents between ourselves and the authorities.”

“With a few exceptions,” someone in front of you mutters.

Arisa doesn’t hear it, and continues. “I also want to thank you all for remaining present in these strange times. To nearly be killed by an act of the Triad is terrifying, I know. Lord Haret’s actions are hard to explain, and I imagine that the information we collected from the criers will clarify it. Did anyone attend His Majesty’s speech in the city square?”

“I did!” one of the youngest members, a man perhaps two years younger than you, says from the cloaked group. So they aren’t all in this smaller collection, then. “He said that the people responsible for the attack in the woods were present in the city and Haret wanted to make sure they didn’t escape!”

“That’s what I heard in the criers’ messages,” somebody else chimes in.


(con’t)

“So I thought,” Arisa says gravely. “My friends, we must keep a look out for this attacker. I know we are largely distrusted for following the old ways – and perhaps not entirely unjustifiably so – but that doesn’t mean that the King won’t look the other way if we find some useful information for them to use.”

“After what the Triad nearly did to us?” one of the older people says. “They clearly hold us in no more regard than the rest of the people of Clen if they were willing to kill us all the same!”

“I refer to the King, not to the Holy Triad,” Arisa corrects him sternly. “King Maas is, above all, a father and pragmatist to boot. If one of us apprehends the people responsible, or leads to their apprehension, we will probably be ignored by the Guard more often as a result.”

“How do you figure?” one of the younger people asks.

“A hunch. An informed one. I am not without connections in the Army,” Arisa says carefully.

You wince. She had better not mention you…


>Try to get her attention to do (what)
>just sit tight and listen

>>32782218
>just sit tight and listen
No big loss even if she does reveal us, more of our cover gets stripped away every day. We'll just know we can't trust her.

>>32782218
>just sit tight and listen

Trust the Arisa

You grip the sides of your seat until it creaks. Luckily, she either doesn’t yet know you’re here or knows not to reveal you. She continues as if nothing had happened. “I also remind all of you, my friends, that the prospects for recruitment in this city are limited by visibility. Having healthy recruitment is good, having so much that the Guard sees us as a threat is not. Our library meetings suffice.” You wonder for whose benefit she said that.

After that, she pulls out a book from beneath the lectern’s top and opens it. “Today’s sermon is drawn from the original book of worship for Humans, with notes included from the Cepro holy texts. I ask you all to open your books to the fifty second page as we begin.”

The next two hours are thoroughly strange. The readings are so dense in their historic languages that even with your experiences, you honestly can’t tell what she’s saying sometimes. The Cepro species notes are especially weird. The strange, three-armed creatures went extinct in the last years of the Collapse, having lost control of a horrible plague that somebody had released in their territory. How this text had been recovered is anyone’s guess.

After the sermon, the group starts to slowly disperse. The younger clique seems to be lingering less, and breaking up quickly, so you sidle off to the edge of the crowd to listen in.


>Eavesdrop on the younger group
>Eavesdrop on the older group
>writein

>>32782692
>Eavesdrop on the younger group

>>32782692
>>Eavesdrop on the younger group
Younger folks might have interesting things to say, and probably chafe the most under the current situation

The younger group is probably the one Arisa’s worried about. You drift over to where a group of them are talking.

“It’s so surreal,” one of them says quietly. “I mean, the whole city? For one group of criminals? And apparently Maas is alright with it?”

“Wanna bet he actually isn’t?” another mutters. “What else could he say? ‘Oops, we’re harboring criminals, we’re all going to die now!’ Nonsense.”

The third, a wilderness elf woman who looks quite uncomfortable, speaks up. “For goodness’ sakes, stop this speculating. This isn’t helping anybody.”

They notice you listening and one raises a hand. “Hello. Are you new here?”

“Yes, this is my first meeting,” you say politely. “I don’t really know what I’m in for.”

“In these times, who does?” the first asks cryptically. He’s a human, male, very young, but with the definite air of nobility around him. The second is a dark elf man, in his early thirties. “Did you want to ask us something?”

>writein

>>32783298
Are these your primary activities? Just gathering and listening to sermons?

“Is this what the group does? Search for old holy texts?” you ask.

The noble fellow shrugs. “Well, partially. Some of us also take it upon ourselves to study other topics. The old faiths, they were pretty big on helping your neighbor, all that. We study medicine, too. Magic, sometimes.”

“What do you do with that knowledge?” you ask.

The woman looks over at where Arisa is standing, reading the crier reports. “Not much.”

“The point, of course,” the first man says hastily, “is to understand the design of the world. We can’t fix all the problems, but we can live as the Pantheon wants us to.”

>”How might that be?”
>writein

>>32783798
>"How might that be?"

“How might that be? I’ll be honest, I barely understood that sermon,” you admit.

The elves both look at you curiously, but the human shrugs. “You get used to it. There are translated versions we use for individual prayers and suchlike. Ask Arisa for a copy.”

“I will, thanks.”

“As for what the Pantheon wants, well…they’ve changed their tune a few times,” the human continues. “All in the best interest of the people, of course, but they have. We follow the old ways because that was the original intention for the world. The Collapse was caused by people deviating from that path,” he says firmly. “We live by the old rules. Conduct, behavior, speech in public.”

“Yes, I was recruited at a meeting at the library in the noble district,” you mention. “It was a stirring thing, seeing somebody pray in the open like that.”

“It’s who we are,” he says proudly.


>keep talking
>pull Arisa aside
>go to the warehouse while they’re all here

>>32784343
>go to the warehouse while they’re all here

>>32783298
So far we have the Humans, Elves, Harpies, Cepro, Dwarves, Lizard/Draconic(?) species out of a total of seven or nine races.

>>32784343
>go to the warehouse while they’re all here
go to the warehouse while they’re all here

Sorry, dinner ran long. Writing now!

File: pantheon.png (18 KB, 263x588)

18 KB PNG

Oh, and here's the original Pantheon. Red means dead.

The meeting isn’t breaking up as much as you thought it would have. You decide to slip out now and see where the warehouse is, and what they’re keeping in there. The question is, how do you find out its location? Arisa never told you.


>Go and ask somebody
>Trail other Circle members to see if they head there
>writein

>>32785175

Prauns? Really? So you're a fan of District 9 then I take it.

>>32785251
Even if they don't head there it's a good way of seeing what they do.

>Trail other Circle members to see if they head there

>>32785253
No, it was based on the race Tolkein briefly envisioned for the Silmarillion: The Prauns. Presumably related to Leprauns, the origin of the Leprechaun myth.

With no map, and without talking to Arisa, your only recourse is to tail somebody. The few people who have left early were dressed in uniforms and working clothes; they probably just attend mid-shift, or before afternoon shifts.

After nearly another half an hour, a group of four cloaked people break off and walk away from the house, heading deeper into the merchants’ district. Of course you have no idea where they’re going, but maybe it’s the warehouse. Maybe not.


It’s all you can do, really. You slip away from the meeting, trailing after the cloaked Circle members as discreetly as you can. They aren’t in much of a hurry, but they’re moving purposefully.

After following them for a while, they stop at an intersection between two major thoroughfares, and look around. Your heart sinks. If they’re lost, they can’t be going to their own warehouse…

>wat do

>>32785917
>Keep following them anyway. Discreetly!

Well, maybe they’re just stopping to do something. You creep a bit closer by blending with the crowd, moving with the carts and convoys until you’re close enough to overhear.

“Is she still following us?” one person asks quietly.

“Can’t see her. But she followed us this far,” another says.

“Damn. What do we do?” the first asks.

The second snorts. “Nothing. We’re not breaking the law.”

“Why are we convinced she’s a Guard?” the third asks. “She was at the meeting.”

“She didn’t introduce herself, and the first thing she did was ask questions,” the fourth puts in. “She’s a spy, sent by the King to see if we had a hand in the riot. I trust Arisa, but she’s naïve.”

You’re so close now that if the crowd shifts a bit, you could talk to them.


>wat do

>>32786346
Nothing to say to them, and they're not going to do anything revealing if they already noticed us.

Just break off and head back to the castle.

>>32786346
Worried. They are too on to us.

Break off, but watch for someone to follow us.

Oops.

Well, time to go. You let the rush of the crowd carry you out of their line of sight, and as soon as you are, you hammer a fist against the nearest stone wall.

“Damn it, damn it, damn it!” you growl. “I am just not good at this spying thing!” You spin on your heel and fade into the crowd again, this time making for the castle. Maybe you can salvage this by meeting with the King as soon as possible.

You don’t make it six streets before you notice something. Every time you stop to let traffic go by, somebody in the crowd behind you does too.

They’re wearing a very familiar cloak.


>wat do

>>32786613
Walk right up to them.

Let's fucking go.

>>32786613
make your way back through crowded areas
no dark alleys
nowhere you could be ambushed out of sight
stay aware of your surroundings

If it’s somebody from the Circle, they probably aren’t a threat…but if they see you go to the castle, that’s another story.

You slip through the traffic as best you can, working your way around the smaller pockets and keeping to the main thoroughfares, any place where you won’t stand out. As you walk, you surreptitiously glance back to see if they’re still there. You can’t see them. Keeping your own experience in mind, that doesn’t mean much: you evaded four people before after being seen.

As the castle nears, you force yourself to appear nonchalant. The security here is really high after the riots. Nobody will do anything stupid.

Then somebody in a cloak and a small tattoo on their forehead appears from an alley in front of you. You come to a halt as they walk right up to you. It’s an elf, a wilderness elf like you, quite old. “Good day, Guard,” she says curtly. “Why was my prediction that you would go right here after shadowing our meeting accurate?” she asks.


>”I have no idea what you mean.”
>use [ability]
>writein

>>32787222

>”I hardly shadowed the meeting. I was in plain sight and talked to several members”

“Shadowing?” you ask coldly. “I was in attendance. I was asking questions, I was praying. How is that shadowing?”

“The part where you tried to follow us somewhere sure qualifies!” the woman bites off.

“You want to talk about following?” you shoot right back. “What did you do here?”

“Guard, the Circle does not break the law,” she retorts.

You roll your eyes. “I know! I was there! So stop being so bloody paranoid!”

The woman plants her hands on her hips. “You came straight here after the meet,” she points out. “You wouldn’t do that if you weren’t on some government official’s payroll.”

“And perhaps, that, in turn, doesn’t actually mean a damn thing!” you snort. “Government officials are allowed to have their own lives, are they not? I practice Asa’s ways as much as anybody!”

She just stares at you in disgust before throwing her hands in the air and storming off.

You watch her go with genuine anger. “Pompous git!” you snort. “No wonder they have a bad reputation!”


>now what

>>32787870
>rejoin your family and wait for Asa and Maas

So yeah, not so great.

Still, Arisa doesn’t know about all this, and you imagine the Circle will come around quickly once they know who you are. Forcing your irritation aside, you turn back to the castle and walk up to the parade ground.

Once there, the first thing you see stops you dead. A force of at least four thousand troops – surely most of the Legion and Auxilia left in the city – are mustered there, at full attention. Captain-General Dietrich is giving orders from atop a stage in the front of the huge square, gesticulating with great poise. His voice is amplified, no question. Probably by some sort of magic.

“So the battle must continue! Our borders are our own, to be decided by no other! Not the rebels! Not the cartels! Us, our sacrifices, our willpower!” He stands true and tall, glaring out over the ranks of Cender’s finest. “We will not simply drive the enemy back! Our orders are to grip the entire southern flank of the nation, and push the enemy back! Not across our borders, out of our lands…but into theirs! To drive the cartels into the hills and crush them, not to take one single prisoner save those of convenience!”

Huh. Apparently your battalion’s absence from the south was more keenly felt than you realized if Maas is sending the entire Legion down there. That, or he feels the need to wave the flag and reassure the people he’s still strong.

>stay and listen
>go inside

>>32788304
>Go inside
It's not a private speech. If we miss anything important we'll hear of it later.

...Oh, the bags of clothing.

Oops.

Well, we'll just be ducking into the corridors now.

The criers are sure to repeat the speech ad infinitum later. You duck around the soldiers and walk through a service corridor into the castle proper…then remember Jerome’s clothes.

Well, shit. You can’t let him wear the same clothes every day…

With a weary sigh, you head right back down the way you left this morning and run alllllll the way back to your house.

You’ve probably run four or five miles today, and walked ten more. Your legs feel like jelly by the time you’ve retrieved Jerome’s clothing and personal items. You then hike alllllll the way back to the castle, and wobble up to your suite.

As you let yourself in, you can feel the world swim a little. You’re tired, as tired as you’ve ever been. It’s not a good feeling.

Jerome looks up from his book as you arrive. “Elsa! How did the meeting go?”

“Don’t ask,” you groan, dropping his bags on the floor. “Sorry, but I’m so tired I honestly don’t feel well at all. I think I need to sit down for a sec.”

“Sure…are you sick or something?” Jerome asks as the others appear at their own doors.

“No, I’ve just been running around the city like a mad woman,” you say wearily. “…this place have a shower?”

“A full shower and tub,” your mother says.

“Oh, good,” you manage as you close the door. “I’m gonna need it.”


As you scrub the pains of the day off, you think over your questions for the evening. Your family will need to be brought in on more or less everything, but is there anything you DON’T want Asa to tell them?

>yes (what)
>no

>>32789318
>Tell them everything

>>32789318
We want our Husband.

You turn the water off and dry as you turn the question over. You already told them everything downstairs, really. Asa will have to be the one who provides that discretionary edge.

Come to think of it, how will this work? Will Asa just appear in your suite? And the King? How will he handle this?

Dressed in clean civvie clothes, you walk back into the main room and take stock of the group. Belle is just looking overwhelmed by it all. Darril and Laura are nervous, Coby is looking resigned, and Jerome is engrossed in his book, presumably to hide his nerves.

“Well, friends and countrymen, we’re ready as we will be, I think,” you say. “Don’t be scared. Asa’s a really nice person. As for the King…if he’s even here, well…you’ll do fine.”

“That’s encouraging,” Darril mutters.

You finger your forehead gem. {My Lady, my family is assembled, should you have a moment.}

When she replies, her voice is uncomfortably strained. […Sure. Sorry, there’s a battle in the south that is getting pretty fierce. I can spare an Avatar, though.]

{Will the King be joining us?}

[He’s on the way down, though he’ll be surprised to see your family. I don’t think he knows Ekrine asked for housing for all of you. If you want to soften the blow, I can tell him.]

{Would you? I’d appreciate it.}

[Certainly.]

You release the gem, and just in time, a diffuse glow appears in the room. You glance over to see Asa, in her usual attire, simply arrive in the room, hood down and skin shimmering. “My children, hello,” she says gently. “I understand you’ve had a trying experience.”

Jerome, who has seen her before, just nods, but your parents gasp and Darril immediately bows. Laura stares, then turns to you.

“Sorry,” she says in a small voice. “I didn’t think it was true.”


>”Forget it.”
>writein

>>32789950
No worries.

>>32789950
Tell her we'll hold a grudge forever.

Except not really.
>"I don't blame you, it was a rather unlikely tale."

Your sister-in-law’s face is a mask of apologetic shame. You grin and wave it away. “Forget it, Laura, it was pretty weird.”

“Dare I ask if my patronage of you came as something most did not think to be true?” Asa asks lightly.

“More or less.” You gesture to Darril and he stands, confused. “Anyway. I guess I don’t need to introduce Lady Asa. This is Coby, my father, Belle, my mother, Darril, my brother-in-law, and Laura, his wife.”

“A pleasure, my children,” Asa says kindly, returning the bow. “I do regret not being able to speak to you all before, but circumstances are so precarious hereabouts that it wasn’t really possible.” She sits beside Jerome, who’s doing a remarkably good job of not being smug, given how he’s met her before, and spreads her arms. “So. We have a few minutes…what do you wish to ask?”

Silence greets her words. Hesitantly, Darril speaks up. “What…was that thing in the forest that Elsa mentioned?”

“An Orb of the Feathered Daemon,” Asa says. “A Collapse-era weapon.”

“It was worth Haret…Lord Haret nearly killing the city?” Darril asks.

“Not quite.” Asa looks sheepish for a moment. “There were other problems involved there that have been resolved.”


As you watch, their questions come quicker and more confidently. You hang back and observe, until Coby asks the question you knew he would. “Elsa…what will you do when this is all over?”


>”Fade back into my normal routine, I imagine.”
>”That’s up to Asa. I don’t stop being a Herald when I finish a job.”
>”Retire to the countryside.”
>writein

>>32790407
>”That’s up to Asa. I don’t stop being a Herald when I finish a job.”

“That’s Asa’s call,” you say, though of course she’s already answered the question to you and Jerome. “Frankly, I don’t really know. I’m not adverse to continued service, either to the King or the Pantheon.”

A knock on your door interrupts your answer. You walk over and open it before any of your family members can say anything. Just as you’d hoped, it’s the King. He’s looking rather martial, actually, with a surprisingly plain military uniform on instead of his robes of office.

You bow low and step back. “Your Majesty, welcome.”

“Your Eminence,” he says. He takes in the room with a glance and forestalls the gasps from your entire family with a raised hand. “My subjects, be at ease, my presence here is temporary. I’m here to ask of your wife, daughter, or sister-in-law a few questions, then be on my way.”

That doesn’t stop the whole group from bowing or kneeling, of course, he is the King, but he runs through the formalities as fast as he can before skewering you with a glare. “All right, Herald, what happened last night?” he asks bluntly. “I hear talk of a Circle meeting in the library that turned into an assassination attempt.”

You have to explain, but how to phrase it?

>Emphasize the security leak
>Emphasize Arisa’s willingness to help
>Emphasize her caution regarding the younger members

>>32790838
>Focus mostly on the security leak, but also make it clear that Arisa is fully on board and the Circle is a peaceful group.

“The conspirators are on to us, Sire,” you say, producing both Asa’s and Soutri’s notes. “Have a look.”

He takes both notes and reads them carefully. As he reaches the end of Soutri’s his lip twists in a snarl. “Bastard.” He shoots you a cold stare, but it’s obvious his ire has been redirected. “He’s so confident that I’ll never get him that he’s openly threatening innocents?”

“So it seems, Sire,” you admit, guiltily looking over at your various family. “I wish…hell. I wish I could say that I wasn’t spooked, but…”

“You are, and I don’t blame you,” he says. “I would be.” He reads Asa’s list of names, too, but pauses halfway. “Wait. Mage Kerry Ding? Really?”

“Apparently, he was one of the fighters in the woods, according to the one I captured,” you inform him. “He’s the only mage we’ve confirmed among the ranks of the mercenaries, Sire.”

“And it had to be someone I’ve met in person,” Maas says darkly. “Naturally.”

“You know him, King?” Asa speaks up from the couch.

“Oh yes. He was a decorated member of my Royal War Mages’ College,” Maas says angrily. “And now he’s killing my people. He probably fought alongside some of those Auxilia.”

“So…where does he live?” you ask.

Maas taps the paper. “Right where it says. A small estate on the edge of one of the semi-abandoned farms outside the city.”


>”Any news on the guy I asked the Shadows to target? Hooks?”
>ask another question

>>32791245

>”Any news on the guy I asked the Shadows to target? Hooks?”

“There was another mercenary, Sire, Hooks. Any idea where he may be?”

Maas nods, clearly happy to be relaying good news. “Yes, finally. The Shadow I dispatched to track him found him to be living in a building in the merchants’ district, alone. We can capture him, kill him, either way.”

“Should we target Soutri first?” you ask. “I mean, your Highness, he knows where I live.”

“Oh yes,” Maas says grimly. “And rest assured that I take all threats against my people seriously. I think the parade you passed on the way in probably assures that notion is well-understood.”

“Four thousand men?” you ask. “The whole rest of the Legion?”

“And the Shadows that aren’t in my personal guard or the special operations force,” Maas confirms. “But back to Soutri. I don’t know where he is, but he’s clearly had time, in just two or three days, to identify you, your family, and where you all live. And, apparently, where they would go in an emergency. He’s probably the leader of the group when Kotrick isn’t around.”

You grimace. “So…target his underlings first, because we have no other choice?” you ask.

“I see no alternative. Unless you have something to add?” he asks, peering over at Asa.

She shakes her head. “Only that speed is not our friend. They would have activated the Orb if that were their intent. I suspect they mean to copy it, instead.”

“The Firesoul said it could be done,” you say, feeling your stomach sink. A whole batch of Orbs…

Coby is clearly following your logic. He swallows audibly from his seat on the couch. Asa leans over and gives his knee a reassuring pat. “Have trust, my son. Your daughter is skilled enough to stop this. I guarantee it.”


>Ask for help from Maas (funding? Gear? What?)
>writein

>>32791439
>Ask Asa if all copied Orbs would draw power from the same floating fortress the original does.

>Ask Maas for funding to hire the Brotherhood again, to capture Hooks.

“If I understand how the Orbs function, they all draw power from one source, right?” you ask.

Asa nods. “Correct, my daughter, they do. The problem is that I haven’t the faintest idea how much power a dead demon can produce.”

“Have you heard from that Firesoul?” Jerome suddenly asks.

You blink. “Uh, yeah, she’s staying in town for a little over three more weeks.”

“Then perhaps she can assist you,” the King suggests. “She’ll charge, but for a Firesoul’s help…”

“Yeah, that’s the problem,” you say, leaping on the line of thought. “I can’t afford more Brotherhood or Firesoul support, your Majesty. I really can’t.”

He offers a tight smile. “Of course. They’re pretty expensive, eh? I’ll tell you what, Herald. If you can promise me success, I’ll offer you enough to fund a few missions with the Brotherhood. The purse strings are taut, with this war effort on, but I’ll grant what I can.” He crosses his arms. “That said, I suspect the Brotherhood and Firesouls won’t be needed for all of these attacks. You may be better suited to more…subtle approaches for some. The mages especially.”

“What do you mean, King Maas?” Asa asks levelly, though she has to know.

“Assassination,” Maas says flatly. “A frontal assault is too risky against war mages.”

“I’ll consider it, when the time comes,” you allow. “It’s so distasteful, though.”

Maas seems to sag a bit at that. “Welcome to my life, your Eminence,” he says quietly. “Hard choices are frequent and unrelenting.”

Nobody really seems to have anything to say. At length, Maas stirs. “Well. The Circle, then. Friend or foe?”


(con’t)

“Until they resolve their problems, Sire, I don’t know,” you admit. “Their leader, Arisa Yvaneva, is kind, and I think she would obey me without question…but the rest of her group are paranoid, to some extent. The younger members seem to be recruiting more openly than she wants, as well, and they are somewhat less willing to stay hidden and obedient to her.”

“Great,” Maas mutters under his breath. Aloud, he says “And their numbers?”

“Perhaps seventy. They own a house and a warehouse, and that seems to be it,” you say. “Useful, but only on a small scale.”

“Very well.” Maas runs a hand through his hair. “Well. I suppose that’s it.” He peers at you. “You look dead on your feet.”

“I am,” you admit. “I’ve been all over the city today.”

“Then get some food and rest,” he says, and apparently the interrogation is over. “You are all, of course, to have free rein of my home until yours are safe again.”

“Most gracious, your Majesty, thank you,” Belle answers for you all.

Maas waves a hand. “Pish. Were my daughter threatened, I know how I’d feel.” He gives you all another look, then turns to go. “Farewell.”


>just go eat
>use the last few hours before dinner to go talk to someone outside room
>stay here and talk

>>32792145
>stay here and talk
Apologize for dragging everyone into this

Laura takes a ragged breath. “Wow.”

“I know,” Asa says drily. “He has that effect on people.”

Laura flinches, but Asa laughs at her own joke, and the whole room brightens. “Now, my children, I imagine you’re all a bit tired of sitting around,” Asa says. “So, I’ll take my leave, and you can all go to eat.”

Something compels you to speak. “I should say I’m sorry for dragging everybody into this,” you say as she disappears. “I never wanted any of this to happen.”

“No, but it did, and I’m sure we’ll be all right,” Coby says, still looking a bit awestruck. The others echo his sentiment.

That will have to do, for now.

[Temporary End of Thread]

>>32792483
Thanks for running!

Okay! I'll be up in the morning to continue!

bump

This thread ain't dropping dead while I'm still ahead.

Thanks for running. Good to be a part of a living story again.

I'm delighted people enjoy it!

All right, morning chores are done, I'll be updating every so often until around 12:30-13:00. I'll be back tonight if it's still up, but I'm off to a Father's Day party at 1400, so if it dies, no biggie.

The group’s not much for talking after all that, really. You drop into the bed and lie there, face down, just thinking it all over after dinner.

So many things to consider. So many options, ideas. It’s more than a Skirmisher Sergeant is trained for.

Jerome wanders in around sundown and leans on the doorframe. “Elsa, you’ve been running around the entire day. Maybe you should just go to bed.”

“Maybe,” you mutter. “I only need two hours of sleep now now.”

“I keep forgetting.” He sits down beside you and runs his hand over your shoulder. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“As much as I can be.” After another few seconds, you roll over and beckon. “C’mere.”

He obligingly lies down next to you, and you lean in. “Here. This is what my face looks like now.”

He regards your eyes from inches away. “Huh.”

“It doesn’t freak you out?”

“Nah.” He slips his hands behind your ears and pulls you in for a kiss. “It’s not what I’m looking at right now anyway.”

You bite your lip and glance over at the – closed – door. “Jerome, my parents and your brother are right out there.”

“I know,” he said mildly. “But you’re generally pretty quiet in bed anyway.” He starts peeling off his clothes as you flush. “It’s handy.”

“Seriously?” you giggle. “I mean, hell yeah, but in the castle?”

“How many more chances will we get for that?” he asks, suddenly mischievous. “And you’ve had a tough day. I’m not doing my job if I’m not helping you relax.”

You grin as he starts working the buttons on your own shirt next. “Can’t argue with that logic…” Your eyes drift shut as his hands slip below your belt and start massaging. “…don’t stop…”


(con’t)

File: Sleep2.gif (25 KB, 504x792)

25 KB GIF

As the starlight filters into the slim window in the corner of the room, the sound of the streets outside fades. The autumn winds blow a cool draft into the room, and you shiver as it chills your ears.

Jerome slides one hand down your exposed flank to pull the sheets back up, and you squirm appreciatively. “So…thanks,” he murmurs happily.

You settle one ear down on his tricep and snuggle closer. “I should be thanking you, I needed that after twenty miles of walking and running all day,” you murmur.

He tilts his head in and rests his lips against your forehead, tickling your scalp with his breath. “Still my woman, even with different eyes.” He lowers his voice to a conspiratorial tone. “I checked.”

You giggle softly and slip your hand over his back. “Checked and verified. Yum.”

He grins against your head and gives your butt a playful squeeze. “Someday, I promise, we’ll make love in our own bed again. It may take a while, but hey. That’s life.”

“Bed, shower…balcony, if you’re daring,” you say dreamily. He chuckles. “But yeah, first the Courtesan’s Guildhall, then your brother’s place, now the castle. We’ll be in a cabin on a ship next time, or something.”

The dull roar of his heartbeat slows as he relaxes and starts to drift off to sleep. “…g’night, Elsa,” he murmurs.

You peck him on the lips and settle down, until a peaceful sleep takes you too.


(con’t)

Deep night comes with the hooting of owls in the stands of trees in and out of the city. When you awoke, the others hadn’t even gone to bed yet, and you had already slept for two hours. Despite your fears, they didn’t notice what you and Jerome had been doing. A quick thought to Assa before rising healed your weary legs, leaving you energized.

Putting your Logistical Office clothing on, you climbed through the halls and stairs of the castle until you were on the spire at the top, where spotters for artillery would call shots in the event of a siege of the world’s largest remaining city. The little circle of stone at the top is a platform, with seven-foot tall spikes of stone decorating it every few yards. Spotters with mage-sight can hide behind them and call down orders and angles for the ballistae operators on the platforms below.

With so many troops in the south, it’s deserted. You lean against a railing and peer into the depths of the city with your new eyes, marveling at their precision and clarity. The contrast between the well-lit city and the dark farms is breathtaking.

“Hello, Herald. Enjoying the view too?” a voice asks from behind.

You turn to see an Avatar…but not Asa’s. It’s Vier. She’s not dressed in her modest robes like last time, either. She’s wearing chainmail over bright red leather, sleeveless both, with a shimmering cape thrown back to reveal her bare shoulders.

“My Lady! I’m sorry, I didn’t even see you,” you remark.

“No, I just got here.” Vier comes to stand beside you and smiles out at the darkness. “I come here most nights, truth be told.”


>”How come?”
>”Does anyone know?”
>”What’s with the armor?”

>>32798724
>>”How come?”
Just saying in addition, we should be super polite throughout the whole conversation. Having Vier our our side would help with the preventing Haret from smashing us all like beetles. KHOO KHOO

“Really?” you ask. “How come?”

She chuckles and sets her hand on the hilt of the longsword on her hip. “Well, it’s how I used to look, you know! Before I had to fill two roles. I was a warrior-child, always have been.”

Considering how cold and distant she usually is, this is downright cheerful. “I guess I didn’t know,” you admit.

Vier smiles and leans casually on the tower. “My being here? Coincidence. Asa may be the one who best remembers humility, but I’m the one who loves the outdoors. I always like to come up here and look out west. We’re out there, you know,” she says, pointing at the far-off ocean, which you can’t possibly see from here. “The Shrine Islands. Our physical bodies are in the Geode Temple.”

“Do people ever go out there?” you ask.

“Sure, back in the day. Now? No. Can’t risk damage to the weather machines.” She claps her hand on the side of one stone battlement and grins. “Thirsty?”

You blink. “I beg your bardon?”

“Fancy a drink?” she repeats. The bright starlight shimmers beautifully on her bare skin as she crouches and pulls something out of a hidden compartment on the side of the stone spike. The impact of her hand must have jarred it open. “Somebody who built this place had a bit of a problem, it seems,” she laughs. “Every time I come up here, I have a sip.”

“This tower is three thousand, six hundred years old,” you say. “The wine is that old?”

“No, no, a Guard who stands watch up here sometimes refills the compartment,” she says with a grin. “We just chat up here, for hours. Nice kid. Too bad he’s off-shift tonight.” She pulls two goblets out and fills them. “So, fancy a jot?”


>”Why the hell not!”
>”No, thanks.”
>writein

>>32799064
>”Why the hell not!”

You can’t help but laugh along. You’re not human, you’re not getting empathetic feedback from her like you do with Asa, but she’s still clearly in a good mood. “Sure! I’d like that,” you say. She passes you a goblet and clinks it with her own. “Cheers!”

“Cheers,” she says, and you both sip.

The glimmering starlight over the walls and towers illuminates shadows on the ground below as Vier leans back against the stones. “Hmm. Let me think…yes, your little chat with the King. How did it go?”

“Well. I have a plan now,” you say. “We know the locations of two conspirators.”

“Good!” She sips some more wine and nods at your news. “I am quite sorry that that mercenary is threatening you, dear girl. You don’t deserve that.”

“Thank you, Lady Vier,” you say, grimacing at the memory of that damn note. “If it were just me, I’d ignore it…but my parents?”

Vier scowls. The starlight seems to flicker. “Deplorable. Utterly. What they’re afraid of is confrontation. Using the Orb! That would actually harm them now. They HAVE to know we’re on to them.”

“So why not leave?” you ask reasonably. “Why stay in town?”

“Where else can they go? There’s a population of over sixty thousand civilians and twenty thousand soldiers in this city, more if you count the farms, more still if you count the trade depots outside the city and on the rivers. All the cover they’ll ever need!” She swirls the deep red wine in her goblet and shakes her head. “They won’t run because I’ll kill them if they’re spotted running, and they damn well know it.”


>”Wait, what? The tornado was you?”
>”But what if they don’t think they’ll be spotted?”
>writein

>>32799321
>”But what if they don’t think they’ll be spotted?”

You frown at that line of reasoning. “And if they don’t think they’ll be spotted?”

She shrugs. “I guess they may make that mistake. Perhaps a disguise would work. Thing is, those mercenaries were paid a fortune, and so was the Explorer. They’ll want to spend it. And the criminals, Kotrick and Moor, they want to either use or display their purchase. Those choices require lots of people and lots of places to spend money. If they run from this city, they’ll go to another.” She spots the look on your face. “Fine, I suppose they could just make a break for it into the countryside, but then they’re not hurting anybody.” She downs some more wine and sets her goblet down on the railing. “So…Heraldship. Enjoying it so far?”

Why did you get the overworked patroness instead of the perky one? “Uh, well, the abilities are pretty amazing,” you admit. “The lack of need for sleep, the super-healing…that’s great. The speech abilities are a little intimidating, but I like using them. It feels…instinctual somehow. Comfortable.”

“Good.” She smiles at you and crosses her arms. “Haret and Asa were a bit worried that you wouldn’t take to them, but I wasn’t so sure. It’s very nice seeing Asa smile again, too. Having a friend like you, it helps her. She was heartbroken by Avis’ death up north. She really loved that boy.”

“Friend?” It feels odd to consider her that.


(con’t)

“Sure. What other word works? You discuss your secrets, trust each other, work together, share a laugh every now and then,” she lists. “It’s what we were made for, you know. Elder siblings, not parents. It’s natural. I wear this outfit,” she says, jerking a thumb at her armor and weapons, “because I was the guard of the homestead. Metaphysically speaking. Haret was the ranger, always out and exploring. It was different with other species, of course. Asa was the loveable younger sister, Ghalad the gentle eldest son. Teck was the inventor, Do’tress the spunky lover…we all filled different roles.”


>ask her something about (conspirators/elder days)
>writein


Remember that taking more than one option is permitted, if they're exclusive I'll just flip a coin in case of a tie vote.

>>32799524
>Ask about what the gods were like.

“What about the gods themselves?” you ask. “You didn’t mention them.”

Vier takes on a distant look. “Well…Garm was always very disciplined. Very rigid and purposeful…but don’t think that the gods could have been categorized like we of the second kin could.” Interestingly, her tone becomes more formal when she’s focused – not unlike how yours does, now that you’ve been given Asa’s powers over speech. Is it something they share?

“Garm was a good father, but strict. Very much so…but elegant. Very tasteful, with much poise.” She smiles fondly at some hidden memory. “His corner of heaven was minimalist, but lovely. Calm. His hell was probably the most fearful, however. I don’t think any race worked harder to avoid sin than humans. I shan’t speak of it.”

“What about my goddess?” you ask. “What about Mother Mai’te?”

Vier grins. “Ambitious.”

“Really?”

“I know, not the word most would use to describe the old tribes of the elves. They were always so welcoming, carefree, spiritual,” she says. “But Mai’te was ambitious, so she made her children not to be. They didn’t have to bear her burdens, then, you see.” Her smile fades. “She was so much like Asa it’s heartbreaking. Poor Asa takes on a higher burden than either of us. She has to absorb all those elves souls, which makes her more powerful than us by far, but she also has to do over twice the work, since she’s the source of most of the power of the weather machines.”

“I never knew.” You grip the goblet a little tighter. “I think that explains some things.”


(con’t)

Vier comes to stand beside you. “I was horrified when she shared that memory, but completely unsurprised. She misses the old days so much.” Vier cocks her head. “You’d have liked Ghalad. And I really think you’d have liked Power, the male demigod of the Dragon-men. He was a laugh riot. Of all of us, he strayed farthest from the original design for creation. He was a hysterical comedian.”

“Really? Wow.”

“Yeah, you wouldn’t think it,” Vier chuckles. “All his statues show him being all imposing and strong. He loved those, said they were so pretentious they should be given their own names.”

“Did you have a favorite Pantheon member outside the human ones?” you ask.

“Sure. Gleiss. He was the god of the gnomes. He would sometimes stop you in the middle of a sentence and try to guess the end. He was always wrong.” Vier chuckled. “Ah, that was a fun trip down memory lane.”

“Indeed.” You sip the last of your wine and hand her the goblet. “Well. I should be going. Use the night, and so forth.”

“Very well.” She reaches over to grip your shoulder. “Stay safe, girl. Asa will never forgive herself if you get hurt.”


>go investigate (thing)
>collect which suit of clothes? (armor, logistical officer, civvies, stealth)

>>32800006
We should probably gather up those bags of clothes we threw together and then forgot about.

>>32800046
You already did.

>>32789318

>>32800067
In that case grab a stealth suit. I think we'll be doing a lot of sneaking.

If you’re going to be working at night, you’ll probably want clothes that suit the role. You walk back down to your room, leaving Vier behind. In the suite, your parents have already turned in, and Darril and Laura are up reading. Laura looks up as you walk in. “Elsa. Where did you go?”

“I was just taking in the night,” you say as you shuck your outer jacket. “Talking with Vier on one of the towers.”

“She’s here too?” Laura asks as Darril looks up in surprise.

“Apparently. Not for me, though, she was doing something else.” You duck into your room long enough to change and check on Jerome – still out like a light. As soon as you’re changed into your black clothing and you’ve replaced your military cap with a black bandana, you slip your sheathed dagger into your belt.

Back in the main room, Laura speaks up again. “Hey…look, Elsa, I want you to know that we want to help,” she says. Darril nods. “You shouldn’t have to do this alone.”

You smile at the sincerity in her words. “I’m not alone. Asa’s with me, all the time.”

Darril coughs. “I mean, I have connections with half the merchant families in the city. Couldn’t I help that way?”


>”please leave it to the professionals.”
>”every little bit helps.”
>writein

File: Elsail.png (18 KB, 600x450)

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I'm off to a Father's Day party. I'll be back tonight. If the thread dies, I can live with that.

>>32800336
Vier did say the mercs, Explorer, Kotrick and Moor would all have big money to spend. Maybe Darril could ask his connections to notify him if non-regulars spend unusually large amounts of money?

bump

>>32802532
bump

Wow, cool. All right, writing.

That might be trouble, but it’s not like it’s possible to have too many eyes and ears in the city. “Darril, if you think you can do that without getting caught by Soutri and his guys, you’re welcome to try,” you tell him.

He winces. “Yeah. I’ll have to be careful. I’ll just ask to see if any of the people my friends know are suddenly flashing huge amounts of cash.”

You tug on your bandana and cinch it tight. “Every little bit helps,” you say. “All right. How do I look?” you ask, holding your arms out from your sides.

“Like you’re about to break in somewhere,” Laura says.

You smirk at that. “Excellent.”


>Go and talk to the Shadow that recce’ed Hooks’ house
>Head there and see it first
>Try to find Soutri
>Go find that mage in the farm country

>>32806244

>Go and talk to the Shadow that recce’ed Hooks’ house

>>32806244
>>Go and talk to the Shadow that recce’ed Hooks’ house

The barracks for the Shadows is a fairly posh setup, actually. Probably fair, since they’re the only troops in the Legion who don’t own live outside the castle and its military annex. Finding the one who was assigned to reconnoiter Hooks is tricky business, until you remember that he reported to the King. One quick thought to Asa later, and she replies saying that the King had said that the Shadow in question is named Newlar.

A few more minutes later, and a namedrop to a security officer, and you and the Shadow are sitting in a small, out-of-the way room outside their barracks, looking over a map.

Newlar is a human woman, built like the proverbial brick latrine, and apparently goes about the barracks in partial armor. She’s not helmed, but she has light scale armor around her midsection, and it clicks against itself as she leans over the table. “The mercenary lives in a leather tanners’ shop, of all places,” she says. Her husky voice is kind of hard to hear, and you have to lean in to register what she’s saying. “Second and top floor.”

“It’s a two-floor apartment?” you ask.

“Yes. Don’t know why, he’s single and he’s not related to the tanner.” She squints at the little map she drew of the block. “The quietest way in is across the roof, here.” She taps one corner of that block, where a ladder against the side of a building is circled. “His apartment doesn’t have a skylight, but there’s a window on the north wall that goes all the way to the ceiling, and it opens from either side.”

>”did you actually get inside?”
>”does he have guests?”
>writein

>>32806762
>”did you actually get inside?”
>Anything I should know if I wanted to get inside?

The Shadow seems to radiate all the intensity you’ve come to expect from the King’s private army. Her tone may be quiet, but her enunciation is clipped and educated, and her stance, even here in total safety, indicates a readiness you would usually associate with a hunter in a blind.

“Do you know what to expect when I’m inside?” you ask.

She shakes her head. “Not much.”

You frown. “Did you get inside at all?”

“Yes, the leather tanners’ place. I did get in there. There are steps up to the apartment. There’s also a fire escape, but it’s rusted out, and very exposed.” She plants her fists on her hips and straightens up. “The apartment itself? No.”

“Mmm.” You stare at the map a bit longer, then scoop it up. “All right. Well done, Shadow. I’ll take it from here.”

“Thanks.” She casts you a critical look. “Are you going to fight this man?”

“Eventually.”

“Want company?” she asks blandly.

>”I’d prefer to work alone.”
>”Aren’t you worried you’ll get called out to fight in the south?”
>”Sure.”
>”Sure, but not tonight.”
>writein

>>32807342
>>”Sure.”

>>32807342
>”Sure.”
And here I thought we'd need to ask Garren or someone.

You glance at her quizzically, but don’t ask. “Well, sure. Can’t promise you’ll see action tonight, though.”

Newlar shrugs. “As you say. King Maas gave the order that this man be surveilled, so he’s clearly vital. May as well see what else I can do to help.”

“Out of the goodness of your heart?”

She smirks. It’s not becoming. “No. But it lets me know why he’s being surveilled without having to ask.”

Your own smile is a bit brittle too. “Oookay. Off we go, then.”


It’s well after midnight when the two of you set out. Newlar is loaded for bear, too: she’s got a full suit of enchanted armor on, and it makes her outline hard to follow in the darkness. You probably look to others like a total amateur, you think to yourself as you followe her through the streets.

Newlar glides through the night like the ground is oiled. Her heavy armor doesn’t make a sound. It’s downright uncanny. “So. This mercenary, he likes melee combat,” she says. “Uses a huge fishing hook to catch enemies, then slices them open with an enchanted dagger. Saw him coming and going from the apartment. He kept looking over his shoulder. I don’t know why; he couldn’t have seen me.”

“Was he with other people?” you ask back. Both your voices are very low, and you’re softening the S’s in every word that has them. You may not be a supersoldier yet, but you know how to be quiet while speaking. “Either mercs or civvies?”

“All the time,” she replies as you pass between closed fruit stalls on an abandoned boulevard. “Hookers, clients, a merc or two. Busy guy.”

“Actual hookers, though, right? Not other people who use hooks?” you ask, just for clarity.

She actually chuckles. It’s no more becoming than the smile. “Funny woman. No, they were street sex holes, nothing more. Not proper and clean like the Courtesans. Cheap pussy.”


(con’t)

Funny how her professional demeanor evaporates when discussing sex. There’s probably a story there you desperately don’t want to hear. “Think he’ll be alone tonight?”

“No way. Even during the riot, there were people in and out.”

“Anybody you recognized personally?” you press.

She scoffs. “Think I have friends in such low places? Hell no. Or did you mean from the local gallery of rogues? Neither.”

Even her slang is enunciated. Shadow training is weird.


The building isn’t hard to find. It’s lit by a hundred torches. Every exterior wall is covered in them. “What’s with the light show?” you ask softly.

“I have no idea,” she says. Even in her controlled voice, there’s surprise. “Those weren’t there fourteen hours ago.”

A horrible feeling creeps into your stomach. “…Did he know we were coming?”

“How? Only you and His Royal Majesty knew,” Newlar points out.

Roll 1d100+10

File: 1331790590250.jpg (27 KB, 499x498)

27 KB JPG

Rolled 38 + 10

>>32808162
Don't fail me now, dice gods!

Rolled 78 + 10

>>32808162
late roll, dinner

There has to be something else going on here. “All that light…it’ll be hard to approach, even across the roof,” you worry.

Newlar gives you a scathing look. “Rookie, watch and learn. Where’s there’s light…there’s Shadow.” Without another word, she snaps her crystal visor into place and melts into the darkness of the alley.

You turn to watch the building. There aren’t any customers coming in and out of the tannery, which has the disgusting scent of cure and dye all around it. Why anybody would want to live near that, you don’t know.

Abruptly, it hits you. No, nobody else knew you would be here tonight…but somebody DID know you were going to be looking for the mercenaries from the forest. Soutri said one of the other mercs had hired the assassins…could it have been this one?

One of the torches flickers. Another, next to it. Another, above it. Another, above it. You squint, and with your incredible eyes, you can see something moving up a wall across from the block. It has to be Newlar. She pauses at the top and shimmers visibly for an instant. It’s your signal, you’re sure.

You slip back in to the alley and over to the far side of the block, where Newlar was climbing. When you reach the bottom of that wall, you see. There’s the ladder, across the road from where Newlar was climbing. Maybe it was the enchantment on her armor making the torches flicker. That could be handy for infiltrating.


>Climb up
>proceed to the place on foot

>>32808749
>Climb up
Might as well stick with the pro.

Maybe you didn’t go into this with all the resources you needed, but as long as you’re here, you may as well continue. You glance over to see how she got up and see nothing. You can’t climb a blank wall, so you start clambering up the ladder, making as little sound as you can.

When you reach the top, you turn to see Newlar take a running leap across the road – a full twenty feet. She lands with catlike grace on the roof next to you, completely silent. Your jaw drops. You’ve heard that the Shadows have strange enchantments on their armor, but that’s not the same as seeing it. “How the hell did you do that?” you whisper.

“Magic,” she says coyly. “And grappling hooks in the gauntlets. Now hush up and advance.”

She suits actions to orders and starts creeping across the uneven rooftop towards the apartment. You slip into her wake and follow.

The roof of the leather tanners’ shop is flat with deep gutters, luckily. Newlar drops prone on one corner after performing a perfunctory search for traps and finding nothing. She ducks her head over the edge.

After a moment, she pulls her head back up and looks back at you. She makes the universal hand sign for ‘target located.’

You raise your eyebrows. That was fast. If this guy’s expecting company, he’s not doing a good job hiding from it.

Newlar scoots back and rises to her knees. “Got him,” she says, so quiet you almost can’t hear her. “He’s in the master bed. There’s two women in with him, asleep. He’s awake. Didn’t see me.”

“Then who’s looking out the windows?” you murmur back. “Why light up the whole block and not look for whatever the torches reveal?”

She hesitates. “…Hadn’t thought of that.”


>search the rooftops more carefully
>see Hooks for yourself
>writein

>>32809183
>search the rooftops more carefully

You can’t be too cautious. You slowly turn to take in the whole rooftop, looking for anything out of place. There’s a weather vane, a few skylights, several air vents, a rain catch, a few gutter pipes…nothing jumps out at you. You hear the faint sound of crinkling paper as she unfolds the map. “Nothing here,” she says quietly. “I didn’t note anything of importance on the roof.” Suddenly, she straightens up. “On…THIS roof,” she snarls. She spins around, scanning the rooftops around you-

There! On another rooftop across the road, there’s somebody. It’s far enough that you can’t make out details, but there’s somebody over there, and they’re shining a focused beam of light through one of the windows.

A spotter. It has to be a spotter.


>Kill the spotter somehow
>Charge Hooks and capture/kill fast

>>32809530
>Charge Hooks and capture/kill fast

The spotter has already done their job, you’re certain of that. Hooks was awake before, he has to have seen it.

“Fuck stealth, capture the bastard!” you snarl. “Get inside and capture Hooks!”

Even as Newlar starts for the edge, she asks the question. “No killing?”

“The women aren’t worth it, and I’m not an assassin!” you snap. “Defend yourself if you have to, but try to take him intact.”

She scoffs. “You’re the boss,” she says in a tone that suggests that doesn’t mean much. She pivots at the edge of the rooftop and grips the edge with both hands, then launches her legs over the side. She swings down in an arc and vanishes from your sight with a horrendous CRASH.

You gape at the audacity of the attack. You’re not wearing gloves, you could never manage that. Screams and the sound of metal hitting metal come from the hole as you run up to the edge and desperately look for a way to follow.

There! A drainpipe for the gutters! You sprint over and grab it, shimmying down a few feet. As soon as you reach the empty windowframe, you launch yourself in.

The scene inside is bedlam. Hooks is up in the bed, stark-ass naked, bleeding from several cuts. One of the women is down, missing an arm – an arm you see across the room, holding a knife. The other is on the bed, clutching a ragged throat, oozing blood everywhere. There’s a pair of small daggers on either side of her.

Hooks is awfully fast, though, especially without armor. Newlar is fighting slowly, and clearly favoring her far side. You snatch up your dagger and move to attack when something hits your shoulder and knocks you to the ground.

You scream in sudden agony as your arm goes numb! You look to see an arrow sticking out of your shoulder – one coated with red and green liquid.


(con’t)

Not a spotter, then. Backup. With poisoned arrows. Great. You transfer the dagger to your left hand and lurch to your feet, even as a frightening green pallor appears across your vision.


>what do you do?

>>32810098
Shiiiit
Try and take Hooks out while staying under cover from that archer.

Then ask Asa what she can do about poisons.

{Lady Asa! Please, please help me!} you scream in your mind as you finger the gem and dive for cover.

[Elsa! What’s wrong?]

{Poison! Can you cure my poison?} you ask as you fumble across the floor.

[Yes, but you must be asleep to for it to work! Quickly, what’s happening?]

{Ambush! I went to spy on Hooks and his partner shot me with a poison arrow! Not Feathers, a new guy! I beg of you, help me!} Before she can respond, you double over and puke your guts out on the floor. The vomit is laced with a LOT of blood.

“DIE!” Newlar bellows, sweeping Hooks aside with a brutal elbow crush. Hooks shrieks and stumbles back onto the bed…and an arrow appears in his head. He looks dumbly surprised for an instant, then dies.

Newlar gasps, then collapses too…she has another of the familiar arrows in her shoulder, in a crack straight through her enchanted armor. She’s breathing, but not very much. The second woman – self-defense expert? Well-equipped whore? Partner? – dies with a gurgle as she drowns in her own blood.

“Newlar, stay down,” you whisper, through rasps of pain. Your vision swims as an arrow zips past your head. You drag the woman down off the bed and out of sight of the window as screams begin outside. “Don’t…don’t die…” Another arrow appears in Hooks’ body. Whose side is this guy on?

The world goes black. Distantly, you hear running feet, more vomiting…then nothing at all.


(con’t)

Your world resumes with a deafening roar. [Elsa, my daughter, you will AWAKEN!]

The sheer force of Asa’s voice startles you out of your poison-induced shock. You gasp as wakefulness returns…then bend at the middle and barf again, further ruining the carpet.

“You will live, my daughter, my dear servant, for you are my Herald and my will, and I will you to survive!” Asa’s voice – her audible one, not her true one – commands. You squint through the green haze and spot her standing over you. A nimbus of light surrounds her, and a terrible crack of wood shattering echoes through the room as an arrow simply bounces off her radiant body.

Next to you, Newlar is still. Very still. You instinctively reach for her, trying to help, but before you can, you collapse as your muscles start shutting down. You feel something rummage through the table next to the bed, and you smell something like eggs and tar, and then you fall unconscious again. As you do, though, you feel something cool and relaxing spread through your body, something that makes you want to just fall asleep and never worry again…


Roll 1d100. No modifiers.

Rolled 7

>>32810814

>>32810838

Something bad's gonna happen there.

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>>32810838
Welp.

Rolled 84

>>32810814
I go watch Game of Thrones and I come back to this? DID MY PARANOID RANTS TEACH YOU NOTHING!? ALWAYS EXPECT THE WORST. WHY DID YOU GO IN WITH ONLY TWO PEOPLE!?

Rolled 95

>>32810911
Constant paranoia isn't a fun way to live. Nice roll though.

>>32810911

When Game of Thrones is on, the world ends.

Also that ending was pretty meh. Just saying.

>>32810911
I know! If you'd picked Dervich and Newlar together or, you know, just told Maas that you wanted to hire a Brother or Firesoul like he specifically said he'd authorize, none of this would have happened.

Although there will be some missions where a small party is a better plan, but really? Anon knows full well that they're being followed by at LEAST one conspirator and they attack without a plan? How did people think this would proceed?

Anyway, since I apparently need to lay out the rules here, any time you have Asa heal what would be a fatal wound, so long as you specifically ask her to do it (remember she can't read your mind unless you're telling her to) you roll for scars and dreams. If you get a good dream (I roll for that, not you) then you MAY awake with a new power or ability. If you get a nightmare, you may suffer some plot-based penalties (nothing crippling unless it happens every time.).

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All right, it will take a while to write this and I need to drive a hundred miles tomorrow, so I'm calling it quits. I'll see you all on Friday.

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>>32811242

>>32811242
Thanks for running!

>>32811008
I thought it would go better than this! These guys are way more prepared to be hunted than I thought. Plus that tracker did an excellent job of baiting us in. Will be more cautious in the future.

[22:42:40] <+MajorAirlift> hi maul
[22:42:44] <+MajorAirlift> I'm ranting about stupid
[22:42:51] <+MaulMachine> yeah
[22:43:16] <+MaulMachine> it was pretty dumb
[22:43:25] <+MaulMachine> but Elsa survived, and Newlar MAY have survived
[22:43:35] <+MaulMachine> and Haret got Hooks' soul so the intel is being processed as we speak
[22:43:37] <+MaulMachine> so
[22:43:44] <+MaulMachine> believe it or not, this could have gone worse
[22:43:54] <+MaulMachine> if anon had insisted on fighting in the open, the quest would have ended there
[22:44:10] <+MaulMachine> i am entirely willing to kill Elsa if Anon makes bad decisions that many times in a row
[22:45:01] <+MajorAirlift> inb4 Jerome quest
[22:45:33] <+MaulMachine> have a BAD END pre-written and everything
[22:45:34] <+MaulMachine> hahahahah
[22:45:37] <+MaulMachine> well
[22:45:38] <+MaulMachine> actually
[22:45:40] <+MaulMachine> maybe!
[22:45:44] <+MaulMachine> that sounds pretty fun, actually
[22:45:45] <+MajorAirlift> Maas Quest?
[22:45:49] <+MaulMachine> ooh
[22:45:50] <+MajorAirlift> BE THE BEST KING YOU CAN BE
[22:45:50] <+MaulMachine> even better


so yeah, that's good news.