>>32417376
>[X] I need to get dressed first
Give no fucks.

>>32417376
>I need to get dressed first

>>32417376
You stare at her blankly, and then look down at your thin pyjamas before returning your gaze to Nyra. To her credit, she appears more than a little sheepish.

‘Oh, right. Sorry. I’ll give you a few minutes then.’

‘Thanks,’ you say before gently shutting the door and pulling on a white tunic shirt, a pair of dark brown trousers and a pair of short-heel boots. Giving your disorderly silver hair as good a tidy up as you can manage, you then step out. Nyra’s brilliant emerald eyes regard you for a moment, and you see the corner of her lip twitch as she checks out the top of your head before turning around and leading on. You must have a few stray locks so you spend a few minutes of your trip down to the canteen trying to smooth your hair.

Despite all your expectations, Nyra doesn't seem all that shaken up about your dullard blathering yesterday. Perhaps she really has put it behind her, or maybe the prospect of her work is giving her something to take her mind off of it. You feel like saying something, but maybe it might just be better leaving it alone and letting her work it over on her terms in her own time. Also that little tuft at the back of your head is giving you all sorts of hell and no amount of smoothing seems to be doing the trick.

>Attempt some small talk (what topic?)
>Say nothing and keep fixing your hair

>>32417816
>Say nothing and keep fixing your hair
Elves are the ones that forget shit really quickly right? right.

>>32417816
>Say nothing and keep fixing your hair

>>32417816
Well, if she doesn’t want to bring it up, you figure you probably shouldn’t, sleeping dogs and all that. Besides she seems to be walking with a slight spring in her step, and you don’t really want to do anything that might bring her down. So with conversation a non-issue, you focus all your efforts on trying to smooth this bloody tuft.

Unfortunately your efforts appear to be fruitless and when you reach the canteen, it stands just as irritably proud as it did when you woke up. You never had this much trouble before, must be that soft pillow, if you had some water and a flannel…

You find the canteen half-occupied when you walk in with Nyra, and oh gods above what on earth is that heavenly stench? You must be drooling because when Nyra glances back at you she giggles.

‘Haven’t had bacon before, have you?’ she says.

‘Bacon?’ you ask her.

‘Mhm, first time I ever ate it was when me and Kyd joined Captain Ryder’s crew. Before that…’ she trails off, and her grin falters. She shakes her head and tugs you along by your sleeve. ‘It’s really good, come on let’s see if we can’t score you a few slices before it’s all gone.’

>Roll for lunch-line luck

Rolled 13

>>32417979
Roll what?

Rolled 44

>>32417991
what he said

>>32417991
asnasjklfasf

1d20

Rolled 14

>>32417979

Rolled 1

>>32417979
Shit on a Shingle for us!

>>32418057
oh god

>>32418057
Fuck you, man.

Please don't do critfails OP.

>>32418065
Well, normally Shit on a Shingle is navy talk for Biscuits 'n Gravy.

With a roll like that, though...

File: 1398473964182.jpg (78 KB, 639x595)

78 KB JPG

>>32418057
Nooooo my bacon...... goddam you anon damm you you to hell

>>32418074
I only wanted to help...

>>32418133
stick around and roll some more

and don't fuck up next time

>>32418141
Any tips on not fucking up rolls?

I need all the help I can get apparently...

>>32418170
sacrifice goats to the dice gods before every roll

it's not too reliable, but it's all a rookie like you can do

>>32418170
Sacrifice your firstborn daughter and lastborn son to the dice

I'm not caught up on archives yet but this quest looks like it will be fucking awesome.

>>32418206
But senor, I need my sons for the coming harvest

>>32418195
No goats around, unfortunately...

What's the going rate on toddlers? I can get those in a pinch.

>>32417979
Despite the absolutely divine smell of this bacon stuff wafting through the canteen, you’re not entirely sure what the fuss is about, or why Nyra keeps hopping from one foot to the other, biting her lower lip as if waiting in the queue for breakfast is the most difficult thing she’s ever been tasked with.

Eventually though, you reach your turn, and the two ginger twins from yesterday are at their table once again dishing out grub. A positively mouth-watering selection of choices greets you: eggs, bread with a choice of filling, cheese, milk (goat’s if your nose tells you right) and mushrooms. Your look of hunger though, is in startling contrast to Nyra’s look of absolute despair.

A throaty laugh brings your attention away from her.

‘Sorry Nyra, you just missed the last of it,’ one of the twins says, his wide but apologetic smile displaying several gaps where teeth are missing.

Nyra doesn’t even respond, simply nodding numbly as the other twin serves her a generous helping of eggs, bread and cheese while shaking his head.

‘It’s alright lass. Besides, you keep eating as much of that stuff as you do, and one day, you’ll find yourself plump as a whale,’ the other twin says as he gives you a modest serving of everything else. Never let it be said you aren’t adventurous when it comes to your meals.

Nyra ignores him, too devastated to reply. Seeing as she’s not up to the task, it’s up to you to find a place to sit. You spot Balfour wolfing down mushrooms, cheese and bread, Julianne Wynne, who sits alone, gently drinking from an elegant glass, and two of the groups you spotted yesterday but haven’t been introduced to yet.

>Sit with Balfour
>Sit with Julianne
>Sit with the Gunners
>Sit with the Gamblers
>Sit on your own with Nyra

File: 1391839545379.jpg (25 KB, 752x375)

25 KB JPG

>>32418230
The dice believe otherwise

>>32418248
>Sit on your own with Nyra
Nah man, we socialize later, now is time to endear ourselves onto the elf

>>32418248
>Sit with Julianne

If my hunch is correct this is probably like her and Kyd's foster parent

>>32418248
Biscuits and gravy with eggs and a side of home fries with onions and mushrooms!

>Sit on your own with Nyra
Where's the kid with the harmonica?

>>32418248
Given your companion’s countenance of despondency (you honestly doubt you’ll ever see anyone look so disappointed as long as you live), you decide that lively banter probably isn’t what’s best for her right this moment, so you find a quiet spot in the canteen to sit, though you practically have to lead the elven girl there and even when you sit down she appears just as bleak.

It doesn’t appear good. From the way she’s acting you’d think she’d just watched her entire family die in front of her and her food's not getting any warmer.

>Try to cheer her up with a joke
>Try to comfort her
>Do nothing and hope for the best

>>32418422
Steal someone else's bacon.

>>32418466
What if we Arm Wrassle for it?

Rolled 11

>>32418422
What this guy said >>32418511

>>32418511
Arm wrasslin' for pork fat? GENIUS!

Fully supported.

>>32418422
After a few second’s fretting you decide that you can’t just let her be like this. You’d try a joke but all you have on you now are dwarf jokes and with Balfour around that might not fly particularly well. You’d try comforting her, but if she blows off two people who know her well enough to know how much this must be affecting her then what good can you – someone she’s known effectively all of two days – accomplish?

You scan the rest of the canteen and lo and behold, as if the Nine themselves have offered it up to you, an unattended plate upon which lies a modest pile of crispy meat strips sits on a table not far from you. No one appears to be paying attention, but the potential consequences of stealing another crewman’s food make you think it’s not worth the risk, especially seeing how only a handful of people know you.

You eye up the group of loud, boisterous Gunners, remembering their little armwrestling tournament yesterday, and you have an idea.

‘Wait here,’ you tell Nyra, though admittedly it seems she’ll be up to precious little else while you’re gone.

You approach the group with some trepidation; some of them are packing muscles larger than your head, but not all of them. You spot a few you could probably take, though few of them seem to have any of this bacon stuff.

You take a deep breath and clear your throat loudly. The Gunners all stop talking and every head swivels towards you.

>Greet
>Get down to business

>>32418684
>Get down to business
Gunners like no bullshit kind of guys right?

>>32418684
>Get down to business
I bet half my meal that I can whup your ass in arm wrestling. You lose, I get all your bacon.

>>32418740
No man, bet it all, and if they don't think our meal is worth their bacon remind them that we are a scrawny weakling who is still recovering

>>32418684
>Get down to business

Bet your whole meal and all the table's bacon. They'll agree to it because you've got balls and a woman to take care of.

>>32418752
The fact that we're a scrawny weakling is why we shouldn't bet it all.

>>32418773
eating that shit isn't gonna help much, we need bacon

>>32418684
‘Hey,’ you say casually before plopping yourself down next to a tall, thick gunner absolutely covered in ink. You figure a timid little greeting probably won’t do you many favours with this pile of testosterone.

‘So…’ you begin, ‘I was in the area, smelt something nice, but no sooner do I make it down here when I find out that there’s no damned bacon. So because of that, I’m feeling a little grouchy. I’m also seeing that some of you fine gents here have way more than you can reasonably eat…’

‘Get to it kid,’ the tattooed man next to you barks.

Fair enough.

‘I want to see if you guys can earn your eats,’ you say, as determinedly as you can manage, which actually sounds rather determined if you do say so yourself. ‘Now don’t get me wrong guys, I don’t want ALL your bacon, just enough to get me through the morning, you hearing me?’

The gunners sit and stare, though some have thoughtful looks on their faces.

‘So, what you’re suggesting is a little wager match, eh?’ another gunner further down asks.

You nod your head and plop your elbow up on the table, hand open and fingers firm. Understanding blossoms across their faces.

‘All right then kid,’ one gunner close to your own age says, picking himself up from his seat and sitting opposite you and taking your hand in one of his own lean hands. He looks thin, but you can see the tone beneath those arms.

Fortunately, you’re in pretty good shape yourself, though a part of you hopes this won’t be too stressful on your still healing wounds.

‘One thing before we start though,’ the gunner says, sizing you up. ‘What happens if I win?’

It takes you a moment, but you manage to come up with something.

‘I’ll give you my food… and any bacon I get over the next week goes to you guys.’

‘I can taste it already,’ the gunner says with a lick of his lips. ‘On three?’

>d20 for wrasslin’

Rolled 3

>>32418942
Fortuna guide our dice

>>32418974
Fuck you too bitch

Rolled 4

>>32418942

Rolled 15

>>32418942
shit shit shit

Rolled 19

>>32418942
Wait I can save us

Rolled 5

>>32418942

Rolled 9

>>32418942
I'd like to mention that I suggested half our food, not all of it.

Rolled 19

>>32419040
>>32419053
God fucking dammit so close

>>32419053
>>32419068
Come on guys, just a little more!

File: 1386323698769.png (280 KB, 452x710)

280 KB PNG

>>32419053
>>32419068
How did I roll... two 19's fuckking dice man

>>32419120
Lady Luck is a huge tease.

>>32418942
(that was close, thought you guys had fluffed it for a mo)

By now the rest of the gunners have crowded around the pair of you, and you notice out of the corner of your eye that secondary and even tertiary bets are already being placed on the outcome of your little duel.

‘Two pieces say Etheo breaks his hand,’ you hear one gunner behind you whisper to another.

‘Done,’ his friend replies.

‘One!’ the gunners collectively shout. You and your foe grasp each other, and you try to brace yourself as best you can.

‘Two!’ your determined violet eyes lock onto Etheo’s confident brown pair.

‘Three!’ and with that it’s on.

Straining, you and Etheo push as hard as you can against the other, though neither of you gives way and you notice with a start that he’s winning, pushing the back of your clenched hand ever so slightly towards the table.

‘Knew it,’ you hear a gunner say with smug self-satisfaction, and another gunner sighs dejectedly. Hellfire take that, you think to yourself, momentarily furious that this guy would deny not only your own meal, but something Nyra clearly treasures as well. Fury lends you strength, and with a roar and what sounds like something snapping, you grip Etheo’s hand even tighter and smash it into the table.

The gunners are stunned and even Etheo stares at his hand, his forehead trickling sweat. After a pregnant silence, a small number of gunners throw up their arms and cheer, clapping you on your shoulders and roughly singing your praises even as some of them collect winnings of their own.

It’s only after the noise dies down a little that you notice Etheo has turned his gaze away from his hand and is now staring at your shoulder. Come to think of it, it’s starting to sting, what’s up with tha–

Oh.

Blood seeps through the cotton fabric of your shirt, and the dull stinging is now becoming more of a white hot stabbing pain.

>It’s probably nothing
>Collect your winnings
>Uh, little help?

>>32419320
>Uh, little help?
Ow ow fuckity ow.

>>32419320
>Collect your winnings
>Pretend it isn't happening
>nope we didn't open our wounds

>>32419320
>It's probably nothing

>>32419320
>It’s probably nothing

>>32419320
>Uh, little help?

>>32419320
The bleeding gap in your shoulder hurts almost as much as when it was first opened, but you don’t want to show any sort of weakness to this bunch. So, trying to keep your expression as neutral as possible (not something easy to achieve when sweat pours from your scalp and your skin starts turning paler, especially noticeable considering you’re a fair amount darker than most Visans anyway), you reach for a few plates and scoop a few slices of bacon onto a clean plate before picking yourself up.

‘Gentlemen,’ you nod and turn away back towards Nyra, fully aware that some of them are staring open-mouthed at you.

‘Hey, hey!’ Etheo shouts. For a moment, you think he’s going to protest against your victory and anger swirls inside you. Before you can bite out even a “fuck off” though:

‘Shouldn’t you see the Doc? There is no way you’re feeling okay with that much blood.’ He actually looks a little concerned, and so do the rest of them come to think.

‘I’m touched, but it’s really nothing,’ you say, your voice coming out increasingly faint. You feel woozy. You’re probably not convincing anyone but by the Nine, you won this bacon for Nyra and you’ll damned well see she gets it.

You turn again and stroll back to Nyra, plopping the plate before her.

She blinks and stares at the bacon as if unable to believe it’s real before craning her head up at you with an expression brighter than any sunrise you’ve ever seen… which quickly becomes horror as she takes in your shoulder… is your shirt supposed to be that red?

‘Gothtfryu…’ you mumble before finally you feel too dizzy to stand and collapse.

>>32419639
(cont)
You wake up in a spacious chamber a little larger than your own room. Something to your left scrapes and shuffles. Curious, you turn your head to the side–

–and see a face, but there’s something wrong with this face… it doesn’t have a nose, in fact it seems almost like… like it’s made out of wood. Then you realise that it IS in fact, made out of wood.

You are looking at what seems to be a tree person..

>I’m dreaming, stupid blood loss
>Tree-man this time, huh?
>Scream like a bitch

>>32419679
>Scream like a bitch
Then pass out again

Rolled 4

>>32419679
>>I’m dreaming, stupid blood loss

>>32419679
>Tree-man this time, huh?
>Wait...
>Scream like a bitch

>>32419716
This.

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>>32419716
Tree men are actually pretty creepy

>>32419679
‘Tree-man this time huh?’ you murmur, then you blink and stop.

What on…

The scream that escapes your mouth takes at least a year or two off your lifespan, not that it was ever particularly great to begin with. Bowel-evacuating terror overcomes your fatigue and you scrabble your arms against your cot and before you know it, you’re falling, landing roughly and gracelessly onto the clean, varnished wooden floor.

‘The screamin’ I was expectin’,’ a gruff but scratchy voice says from the direction of whatever in the Abyss that thing you saw was. ‘What came before? Not s’much.’

A soft clopping noise reaches your ears and you realise that they’re footsteps. The aberration you saw appears above you, shaking its head. It actually looks like a tree given human form. Twisted, gnarled branches form arms and legs and feet, and dry, brown leaves extend from its long, thin head; forming a strange parody of hair.

‘Easy there boy,’ the thing says. ‘If I wanted to hurt you, I could do a lot worse than stitching your shoulder up… again.’

>Who– what?
>Uh… thanks?
>You’re the Doc?!

>>32419950
>Uh… thanks?

>>32419950
>Who– what?
>You’re the Doc?!
>Uh… thanks?

Rolled 11

>>32419950
>Uh… thanks?
maybe have a nervous smile to go along with it.

>>32419950
>Uh… thanks?
>I didn't even get to eat some of that bacon

>>32419950
Your heart is hammering in your chest like a drumbeat that just won’t stop. Never in your entire life did you ever imagine that anything LIKE what you see now existed. Eventually though, you swallow, and your throat no longer feels like it’s been baked in an oven.

‘Uh… thanks?’ you say after clearing your throat again.

The tree-man snorts and turns away from you.

‘Thank me by stayin’ out of my infirmary… an’ no bleedin’ stress on that shoulder ye feckless idiot. Next time you open it up I’ll leave you to bleed… that ought to teach you.’

Cheery.

‘So… you’re the Doc?’ you ask.

‘Yes, an’ you’re nosy. Quit askin’ questions ‘n be quiet or piss off.’

>Shut up and get back on the cot
>Am I even healthy enough to leave?

>>32420170
>Shut up and get back on the cot
do as the treeman says you little shit

>>32420170
>Am I even healthy enough to leave?

Rolled 6

>>32420170
>>Shut up and get back on the cot
listen to the wood man.

>>32420170
>Am I even healthy enough to leave?

>>32420170
>Shut up and get back on the cot

>>32420170
Cowed into silence by the thing’s barbarous tone you zip your lips and crawl back onto your cot, trying to ignore the stinging. The tree-man watches you, eyes narrowed, as if waiting for any sort of slip up. When you lie down, still silent, it grunts in approval.

‘Guess you’re not a complete meathead like most of th’ lugs onboard then,’ it says at it circles around to examine your shoulder, which you now notice is bare. In fact, you’re completely shirtless at the moment. Ladies contain yourselves please, you think to yourself dryly as you take in the bandages wrapped around your upper torso.

‘Well th’ good news is that you’ve not gone ‘n fucked up your shoulder any worse than it was before. ‘N with my medicine it’ll probably be good as new over th’ next two weeks or so. Even so, take it steady ‘n stay the feck away from those lunkheads in the Gunnery. You come back here tomorrow bleedin’ all over the place all you’ll get from me is a hiding. Now take these,’ he hands you what seems to be a bag, a look inside reveals a bunch of what looks like seeds.

‘You take one of them when you wake up, before you go to bed ‘n before you eat. Do that ‘n you’ll be good as new inside of a fortnight. Am I clear?’

You nod, and you swear the tree-man almost smiles.

‘Good boy, now get!’ he says, and you scarper.

Outside the infirmary is Nyra, accompanied by Balfour. Both of them approach you when you leave.

>Hey guys!
>Sorry if I worried you
>Write-in?

>>32420492
>Sorry if I worried you
How was the bacon?

Rolled 4

>>32420492
>>Hey guys!

>>32420492
>Sorry if I worried you
Here's hoping the the dwarf doesn't beat us too badly

>>32420492
>>Hey guys!

>>32420492
>Hey guys!
We did nothing wrong

>>32420492
‘Hey guys!’ you say with a cheery wave. They don’t wave back.

Balfour shakes his head. ‘Honestly Cown…’ he starts, but he’s cut off when Nyra suddenly slaps you.

‘What in the name of all that’s holy were you thinking doing something like that in your condition?!’ She shrieks. ‘You stupid, irresponsible man! I thought you were dying!’ Wow… she seems really broken up about this… you’re more than a little touched to see that she seems to care so much.

‘Hey, come now child,’ Balfour soothes, gently pulling the stricken elf back a fraction. ‘I’m sure he’s got a perfectly good explanation for whatever madness claimed him up there,’ Balfour says, while giving you a look that tells you he sincerely hopes this is the case.

Well…

>Well, you really looked like you wanted some bacon
>I thought I could handle it
>Write-in?

>>32420787
>I thought I could handle it
Don't be a suck up, or at least don't act like one

>>32420787
>Well, you really looked like you wanted some bacon...

Rolled 4

>>32420787
>>I thought I could handle it
" I was under the impression that my wounds had healed and that they weren't as bad since I could move and act normally without any problems."

>>32420787
>I thought I could handle it
Its kinda the truth, I mean blah blah lady luck and stuff

>>32420787
>I thought I could handle it

>>32420787
>Well, you really looked like you wanted some bacon
You just looked so sad about the bacon, I figured I could get some, but I knew that stealing it would end badly for me, so...

>>32420787
>Well, you really looked like you wanted some bacon
Puppy dog eyes, work your magic

>>32420787
>I'm just a poor stupid boy
>I thought I could handle it
Look innocent, act innocent, be innocent

>>32420787
‘Well, sorry. I thought I could handle it… up until then I was feeling in pretty good condition,’ it’s the truth, so you tell it how it is. What you don’t tell them though is that even if that hadn’t been the case you’d still probably have done it anyway. Balfour folds his arms and sighs, but eventually gives you a slow nod. Nyra rubs her forehead and shuts her eyes, and when she reopens them she appears markedly less distressed.

‘All right Cown,’ Balfour says slowly, ‘but take some wisdom from this. You came aboard in a pretty sorry state if the talk I heard is right, and while you’ve had some time, you’re still not at a hundred per cent yet. Take it easy, all right laddie?’

You take a breath and nod solemnly. Eventually Balfour turns and leads you down the hallway in the direction of Engineering.

‘So how was the bacon?’ you ask Nyra. She doesn’t answer at first.

‘I didn’t eat it,’ she says, finally.

You blink in surprise but leave it at that as you delve deeper into the bowels of the airship, and are almost at your destination when someone shouts for you. Turning, you find Kyd haring towards the tree of you, appearing flushed and out of breath.

‘Hey,’ he breathes, ‘Cown. I’m going to need you to come up to the bridge with me. Captain wants to see you.’

>Can it wait?
>Let’s go then
>What’s this about?

Rolled 20

>>32421097
>>Let’s go then
let me tell you when the captain wants you, you fucking book it.

>>32421097
>Let’s go then
>What’s this about?

Somehow, I think word has gotten out about our match...

>>32421097
>Let’s go then

>>32421097
>Let’s go then

>>32421097
Well, far be it from you to keep the Captain waiting, even if the timing is… inconvenient. You still haven’t actually started your work as part of the crew yet.

‘Okay, let’s go then,’ you say before turning back to your two colleagues with a muted apology.

‘It’s fine,’ Balfour says, waving off your apologetic gesture. ‘I’m sure whatever’s going on won’t keep you for too long. We’ll see you down by the generator, might need to give us a shout though, it can get pretty loud down there.’

‘Yeah, don’t worry. We’ll see you in a bit,’ Nyra says with a slight smile and a wave.

With that, you part and follow Kyd to the bridge, but not before you grab and slip on a spare shirt from your quarters.

‘So, what’s this about?’ you ask Kyd as the two of you hurry along.

‘I don’t know actually,’ Kyd replies, ‘but the Cap looks pretty grim.’

That doesn’t bode well. Maybe he’s heard about your little stunt in the canteen. A chill creeps up your spine, while you now know Ryder’s ferocious nature is just propaganda of a sort, you still don’t think you’ll enjoy whatever punishment he’s got cooked up for you if that is indeed the reason for your summoning.
(cont)

>>32421535
(cont)
The bridge sits at the very front of the ship, underneath Ryder’s quarters, and, in similar vein to the Lookout, offers a wide, open view of the space in front of the vessel. At present it doesn’t seem very populated, with only a sparse smattering of deckhands who mostly seem to be performing perfunctory checks on instruments and equipment or chatting amongst themselves. Ryder stands at the head of the bridge, talking to a thickly muscled woman with frizzy brown hair and a cool look. She regards you and Kyd as you step onto the bridge and waves you both over.

‘Good of you to join us Kyd,’ the woman says, and you can’t stop the surprise showing on your face. She sounds as if she’s led a distinctly privileged lifestyle, which stands in very sharp contrast to her fierce appearance. She glances at you, ice blue eyes giving you a look over, ‘and you must be this Cown person. Welcome aboard.’

>What’s up?
>Who are you?
>Glad to be aboard

Rolled 2

>>32421553
>Glad to be aboard

>>32421553
>Glad to be aboard ma'am. Excuse me but I don't believe we've met? Names Cown although you seem to know already.

>>32421553
>Glad to be aboard

>>32421553
This woman looks like she could very easily break you messily in half. This meeting calls for a bit of decorum.

‘Glad to be aboard ma’am,’ you say, truthfully.

‘Yes, I’ll wager you are. You’d most likely be dead otherwise,’ she says, a smirk playing upon her thin lips.

You aren’t quite sure how to reply to that, so you say nothing instead.

‘Cown, this is Lady Margaret Thawn, my executive officer – or first mate, depending on who’s asking,’ Ryder says, indicating towards the big woman, who frowns when her title is given.

‘It’s “former” Lady, Aail. You know I don’t like it when people refer to me as Lady. I was never much of one even before the destruction of my House.’

‘Oh, don’t I know it,’ Ryder chuckles softly before turning back to you.

‘Sorry Captain,’ Kyd pipes up, ‘I know you two have some history, but I’ve been running all across the ship getting everyone you told me to get and I’d like to know why if it’s not much hassle.’

‘Ah, yes, of course,’ Ryder says. ‘Well then, I’ll get right to it: we’re going to see my friends in the Parliamentary Palace.’

>Huh?
>About what?
>Was what I did that bad?

>32421865
>About what?

Rolled 11

>>32421865
>>About what?
" is it about that assassin right?"

>>32421865
>Huh?
It's been what a day? and he already got the evidence?

>>32421097
>she didn't eat it
fukin bitch

>>32422137
She was playing it cool because WE were playing it cool. She totally nibbled it at least.

>>32422173
bitch shoulda ate the whole thing, we fucking passed out working for it

>>32422192
She was so fraught with worry over us that she lost her appetite. Or she was too busy getting help to drag us Doc Knoc-on-Wood

>>32422235
Still should have eaten it

>>32422192
And what if she wanted to share the glories of bacon with us? She could be some sort of bacon evangelist, converting the heathen masses to the glory of his pork.

>>32422286
Yeah but she didn't eat any, she should have at the very least eaten half

>>32422274
Oh no! (snarfle scarf) Cown's bleeding out! (Omgromnom) I should help him! (snorf mmm) If only I didn't have these two fistfuls of bacon in my grubby mitts!

>>32422370
Nigger from what I understand we were out for a while, she could have eaten it while waiting for mister juju to fix us up

>>32421865
(Brace for writing!)
‘What? What about?’ you ask, curiosity getting the better of you.

‘Two things. First of all is that one of my surviving runners spotted your assassin friend around the vicinity of House Theodoric, moving away with some haste if what the poor girl wrote is true. Given that there’s not much else around except a few scattered homes and a blacksmith that’s going out of business soon, I think it’s a safe bet to say he’s had business with the Count.’

‘And the other thing?’ Kyd asks.

‘Well… that’s a little more unsettling,’ you doubt that’s the case, but hold your tongue. ‘I’ve not had a single report from anyone in the Palace in the last two weeks. Chances are it’s just that everyone’s busy with the upcoming elections, in which event it’s a simple case of everyone being so busy that they’ve not had time to read my report, meaning I’ll need to go in person to make sure they get the picture.’

‘Bureaucrats,’ Margaret mutters, venom lacing every syllable.

‘Okay… so why am I going?’ you ask. Surely the Parliamentary Palace is no place for a lowly guttersnipe like yourself.

‘When I make my report I’m going to need you to stand as a witness. With any luck what we’ve got on the Count will stick, but if not and it comes to a court hearing then they’ll need to hear about what you went through and what you heard.’

‘Will it really be that easy Aail?’ Margaret asks, the frown on her face telling everyone exactly what she thinks.

‘Probably not,’ Ryder sighs, ‘but we’ll do it anyway. The lower houses are generally excluded from the electoral college so Theodoric shouldn’t have any reason to be up there, meaning if we play it right he won’t even know we’re onto him.’

Margaret’s frown deepens but she doesn’t say anything further.
(cont)

>>32422389
And if we passed out and fell directly INTO the bacon? She might have a hard time moving us off of her bacon.

>>32422438
>playing the what if game
no

>>32422450
>Playing the "everyone's an asshole because they don't do what I expect them to do" game.

No, you.

>>32422490
>playing the greentext game
Yes, you

>>32422450
>>32422450
>>32422495
>playing the I'm right and you're retarded game.

Shut it and wait for the next post, you two.

>>32422400
(cont)
Eventually you, the good Captain, and ten other members of the crew, including Kyd, board a tiny little airship, one of a handful that nests deep within the Lady Fortuna. You’ve never seen one so small, even though it easily takes the weight of you and the others.

‘Where to then Captain?’ the crewman manning the complicated control system asks. Like Kyd, he wears a pair of goggles.

‘To the usual place Simi,’ Ryder responds.

‘Ryder’s got himself a little back entrance he can use when he needs to enter to make his reports. All he needs to do is show up, give the password, and he’s in,’ Kyd whispers at you when he catches your confused expression.

The ride to the Palace from the Lady Fortuna is a steep one, and the view! You notice that Ryder’s ship is docked only halfway up the gargantuan structure of the airport, and you now appreciate exactly how gargantuan the airport truly is as even that great vessel appears infinitesimal compared to the sheer size of the structure keeping it in place.

The Palace is a similarly majestic sight. Though it is not nearly as breathtakingly massive, the smoothness of its architecture, tall sweeping verandas and extravagant exterior décor (gems on a porch!) makes it seem almost as if it belongs in another world from the dirty, dull streets of Harlowesburg you’re used to.

Finally you come to a little alcove behind the palace, inside of which is a miniature port where Simi sets the small boat down.

‘Remember lads, hoods until we reach the inner chambers. The regular staff’ll chat and gossip anyway, but if they see wanted criminals like us there really will be hellfire to pay.’

With that, you step off and approach a great, steel door. Ryder steps before it and knocks three times, then once, pauses, and knocks four times in more rapid succession.
(cont)

>>32422553
>hurrrr durrr no bullying

>>32422557
He waits a minute, then repeats his routine. Nothing happens. He rubs his head in frustration.

‘Useless guards are probably asleep again,’ he mutters darkly.

‘Just like the time before that,’ Kyd says, his mouth a thin line of disapproval.

‘And the time before that,’ says another crewman.

>d20 for perception

Rolled 14

>>32422596
well here go's nothing

Rolled 17

>>32422596

Rolled 1

>>32422596

>>32422646
Christ, what the fuck.

Rolled 6

>>32422596
Let's see if I still got the luck of the 19's
Also
>inb4 assassin

>>32422646
>WHO TURNED OUT THE LIGHTS

>>32422557
You glance around. Nothing but wall greets your view, and there’s no way off this little dock except to go through the gate or hop back on the scout (the small airship).

Or is there?

Wait… is that…?

The face of the assassin leers at you.

You shriek in surprise and terror and hastily back away. Someone shouts a warning but it’s too late. You pitch off the side…

And a hand clamps roughly around your leg, stopping you from falling a very, very long way to your doom.

Looking up as the blood rushes to your head, you see Kyd clasping onto you, his face straining with effort.

‘Some help would be nice,’ he says through gritted teeth, and soon other hands grab hold of both him and you and eventually, you’re pulled up to safety.

‘By the Nine and all their saints Cown, what was that all about?’ Ryder asks you with an exasperated look.

‘I-I saw...’ your voice trails off as you realise exactly what you saw.

A piece of rock from the wall has fallen off. Perhaps it happened years ago or maybe it was just the week before, but the impression looks astonishingly alike the man who murdered your friend and almost sent you to join him. You release a hysteric chuckle. How in the Abyss does something like that even happen?

‘What about that window?’ one crewman asks, his head craned upwards. The rest follow his gaze. Above the gate rests an open window that looks only just wide enough for a small man to squeeze through. You give the rest of your merry group a check to find that you’re the shortest one there.

>Boost me up and I’ll give it a go
>Volunteer someone else

Rolled 13

>>32422827
>>Boost me up and I’ll give it a go
Let me captain, need to make up for earlier.

Rolled 13

>>32422827
>Boost me up and I’ll give it a go
Even though I know we really did see the assassin
I'm watching you Zippo

>>32422827
>Boost me up and I’ll give it a go

>>32422827
You sigh, reluctant to put yourself in harms way once more, but needs must, and right now you need to get inside. You aren’t keen at the prospect of trying to find a way down once you’re in, but you’re a capable climber, and fairly sure you can find a way to get down gently and without rupturing your stitches.

‘Someone give me a boost,’ you say. ‘I’ll give it a crack.’

‘You sure about that kid?’ one crewman asks sceptically.

You laugh humourlessly. ‘No, but I’m the smallest one here; I’m the one most likely to fit through, and I’m a pretty good climber.’

‘Yeah, but what about your–’ Kyd starts, glancing at your shoulder.

‘It’ll be okay, it’s just a bit of light exercise. Even if I fall, the worst I’ll probably do is sprain my ankle.’

Unless of course, you do something disastrously stupid and land on your head.

But there’s no time to think about that. This is important, and you need to make up for your embarrassing and almost fatal bluster earlier.

‘Alright Cown,’ Ryder says softly before looking at two of his crew. ‘Boyd, Argoyle, you help him up.’

Two brawny looking crewmen sporting shaven heads step forwards and form a support with their hands. Nodding graciously, you step onto their cupped palms and try to keep your balance as they hoist you upwards with a grunt of effort. Stretching your arms up, and ignoring the buzzing sting in your shoulder, you pull yourself up and in through the window.

The drop is barely more than a couple of metres and once you’re through you let yourself fall, making sure to keep your knees bent. The impact still forces your breath out of your lungs, and you take a second to recover.

And when you take your next breath, a sour, foetid stink hits you like a body blow.

‘What on earth?’ you gag, and eventually you see it.
(cont)

>>32423177
(cont)
The source of the odour is unmistakably a Palace Guard in his bright red and white livery, but there’s something very wrong with the picture he paints. His halberd lies across the ground, and the guard himself sits eternally slack on the stool.

He is dead.

But he’s been dead for a while, already decay is setting in, and his skin is sunken and turning a repulsive shade of green. You turn your disgustedly fascinated gaze away from his face and look for something else, and spot something shiny on his belt: a set of keys.

>Grab the keys
>Give Ryder a status report through the window

>>32423191
>Move quietly and grab the keys
And if possible the halberd too unless we got a weapon already
We can't start screaming something could be in here

Rolled 13

>>32423191
>>Give Ryder a status report through the window
>Grab the keys
"Sir we got a dead guy here, looks like least a week maybe, getting the keys now."
While doing that get a closer look at the guy and yell back what details we can.

>>32423226
>>32423232
Well, looks like it's that time again. 5 minutes and then coin toss

>>32423401
>Give Ryder a status report through the window

>>32423191
You open your mouth to shout but common sense takes root and you snap your jaws shut so fast and so hard that the impact jars. Wincing and rubbing your now aching jawline, you glance warily at the corpse. There’s no indication of what killed him, his corpse looks clean… so to speak, but that doesn’t mean whoever did this isn’t still around somewhere. You figure the best plan would be to grab the keys, maybe grab that weapon as well, open the door, and let Ryder assess the situation.

Creeping forward, you glance around, looking for anywhere that might hide an attacker. The corridor stretches on until it stops at a staircase a dozen metres away, and though it’s poorly lit, you don’t see anywhere that looks capable of hiding a potential ambusher. Believing it safe, you reach for the keys with your left hand, which is starting to itch, strangely enough.

Taking hold of the keys, you thread them gently through the dead guard’s belt, trying not to touch the dead man directly. Your breath is caught in your throat, and you don’t realise this until you have the keys in your hands, whereupon you breathe a heavy sigh of relief.

Then the dead man reaches for you.

>d20 for reflexes

>>32423505
Motherfuck. That'll teach me to storm on writing ahead without refreshing the thread at regular intervals.

>>32423611
You should really have Appchan or 4chanX extension if you're running. I wouldn't be able to even follow quests without auto-updates. Or there is an auto-update option you can check for 4chan vanilla, but it's not that great.

Rolled 8

>>32423588
You still taking dice?

>>32423745
Yes indeedy

Rolled 11

>>32423588

Rolled 13

>>32423588
Fuckkan Zombies could be worse though. Could be Skeletons

>>32423831
Now I heard, and this is just a rumor, but supposedly every zombie has a skeleton inside them. How fucked up is that?

>>32423588
‘What the–?!’ you cry, barely able to believe your eyes at the sight.

Despite your surprise, you manage to avoid its reaching arms, just. Unfortunately your fear-induced backing up causes you to trip. And the corpse is even now rising from the chair, slowly and ponderously, it would be easy to outrun, but then you’d leave Ryder and the others outside with no way in. You check the keys in your grasp, there are eight of them, and you’ve not a clue which one opens the gate behind you.

‘Cown!’ you hear Ryder call through the open window. ‘What’s happening in there?’

>Open the gate (d20 for luck)
>Go for the halberd (d20 for combat)
>Run

Rolled 7

>>32423989
>Open the gate (d20 for luck)
WE SHOULD HAVE WENT TO THE CHAPEL

>>32423989
>Open the gate (d20 for luck)
I doubt we'd be able to hold it off for long with wounds
Do we vote first then roll?

Rolled 3

>>32423989
Halberd

Rolled 12

>>32423989
>Go for the halberd (d20 for combat)
Jesus, we've been rolling shit for a while...

>>32424057
Vote and if that choice involves a roll then roll, it's what the other guys have been doing

Rolled 10

>>32423989
>Go for the halberd (d20 for combat)

Rolled 16

>>32423989
>Open the gate (d20 for luck)

Ooh man

Rolled 5

>>32424096
>>32424057
Alright then here's my roll

>>32423989
(Well that was a rather close run thing, gate scrapes it by one though. Goddamn though you guys really aren't rolling to hot now, are the other quest threads sucking up all the dice gods' attention?)

No. Screw that. You don’t know the first thing about fighting risen corpses. Hell, you barely know anything about fighting period. You’ve been in a few scraps with Dagg but those were adolescent tussles, never fought with intent to injure, much less kill.

You scramble backwards and run for the gate.

‘There’s a– I don’t even know!’ you bawl back through the window at Ryder even as you frantically try to slide the right key into the keyhole. The first attempt is incorrect, and you feel a cold sweat break out as you heard slouching footsteps grow closer. You try another key. Wrong again. You can smell the funk of rotting flesh as surely as if the thing were standing right next to you. A nervous glance shows you that the thing is almost on top of you.

>Try one last key (d20 for luck)
>Dodge (d20 for evasion)

Rolled 14

>>32423989
>>Go for the halberd (d20 for combat)
"Ryder help!"

Rolled 18

>>32424257
>Dodge
piccolo grant me evasion.

>>32424298
Piccolo is in a giving mood

Rolled 14

>>32424257
>>Try one last key (d20 for luck)

>>32424257
>Try one last key (d20 for luck)
If we live I'll go to the chapel

>>32424412
I'm a little unsure here. Should I count votes without a roll for choices requiring a roll? I don't want to pick one without consulting you guys and have you call me out for faggotry later on

Rolled 14

>>32424567
no dice, no vote

Rolled 8

>>32424637
coincidentally where the fuck did everyone else go?

Rolled 12

>>32424666
Plot heavy segment. When the elf girl comes back, people will come back.

>>32424567
Seeing as this is a vote and dice it would make sense not to count it

>>32424637
>>32424666
Well that seems fair.

It's also formed another deadlock again. See you guys in a few minutes.

Everyone's probably gotten sick of waiting so damn long for me to write shit down ;_;

>>32424702
That and or people are scared to roll because /tg/'s dice demand our blood today

>>32424705
Nah man, I'm just shitposting in multiple threads at once, its time consuming

>>32424705
That ain't it. You've got a decent pace going on, you just need to settle into a rhythm. I suggest taking a bit longer to write, then people can pop in, read the update and vote.

Your pace is almost too fast. People can't come in an hour late, have to read three updates, work out which decision won each time, then analyze the situation, make a choice and roll, all in the span of 10 minutes. Because that's the voting window.

You ain't fuckin' up, you're doing exceptionally well. You just need to keep it up. There's all sorts of unwritten rules and shit.

>>32424841
>analyze the situation,
Wait people still do that? I thought it was rule of cool nowadays and Adventure?

>>32424943
I can't very well come out and say that. I've been voting with my dick since this thread started, anon. That would discredit me! And my advice!

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9 KB JPG

>>32424977
Fuck we're doomed.

>>32425070
Come on, now! I'm sure OP would rather I vote with my dick than not participate at all!

>>32424841
(Really? I thought I was going too slow.

Also, gate won the coin toss, we’re opening that shit up)

Praying to all Nine gods at once, you take the next key and hope fervently that you meet with success.

It slides in.

Hope flares in your breast. You twist the key and wrench the gate open. Ryder and the rest of the crew storm inside, but even they stop and stare at the sight of the very dead guard lurching towards them. Even Ryder seems aghast, his already pale Visan complexion rendered whiter still by his shock.

Eventually he snaps out of his stupor.

‘Destroy that abomination!’ he bellows. Ten men draw various weapons: punch daggers, short swords, a cutlass, and even a handful of repeater pistols.

The dead thing never stood a chance.

It goes down under a pile of striking men hacking with desperate fury at something they don’t understand in the slightest, and when it is all said and done there is nothing but rotting chunks of meat and scraps of armour and cloth.

‘What in all eight layers of the Abyss was that?’ Kyd breathes, his eyes never leaving the final resting place of the creature he and his comrades struck down.

‘I don’t know,’ Ryder says, though something about his tone makes you think he’s not being completely honest here. The spymaster then suddenly snaps his head up, naked horror in his eyes.

‘We have to move. We need to be sure this is an isolated incident.’

No one needs any prompting, and all of you hare up the staircase, moving deeper into the Palace.

As you move through the great stone halls, passing desks filled with paperwork, and walls bearing paintings of famous historical figures and sights, it becomes increasingly apparent that the place is deserted. Nervousness stems from each of you, and even Ryder can’t stop himself casting flittering glances around every few moments.
(cont)

>>32425129
(cont)
Eventually you decide to give up searching the entire Palace and instead rush toward the Sitting Chamber, the great oval chamber where the Republican Government dictate the day to day running of the nation. The great, oaken doors stretch all the way from the floor to the ceiling, a full five metres high.

Ryder pushes them open as if they weigh nothing at all…

And you behold a scene of absolute carnage.

It’s the smell, more than anything, that gets to you, but you had a whiff of it even before Ryder opened those doors. You knew approximately what you would find, but this… this is butchery.

Bodies of MPs – the various nobles who made up the rulers of your country – are strewn across the chamber. All of them are savaged, as though someone has taken a blade to them and continued the grim business of dicing them up even after they expired. Many of the bodies bear looks of exquisite torment on their screaming, dead faces.

At the centre of this, standing behind the great circular table the MPs sat at, is a figure. He is tall and well groomed, darkly handsome with an impeccably trimmed beard, but his slate grey eyes are alight with dark delight and his lips are curled in a triumphant, arrogant sneer. More than that however, is the sheer STINK that roils off him almost in waves. It is thousands of times worse than the stench of the grave. It is sickeningly sweet, a honeysuckle scent that belies a deeper, malignant odour.

This, you feel instinctively, is the scent of pure corruption.

‘Ah,’ he says, throwing his arms open dramatically as if to welcome the new arrivals, ‘I was wondering who exactly might turn up.’
(cont)

>>32425236
(cont)
He plays his gaze along the band, sizing up each and every one of you, and you barely suppress a shiver when his eyes fall upon you. His grin widens as he takes in the sight of Ryder, and he laughs.

‘Captain Aail Ryder? Really?! Ha! Oh this is too much. I actually thought these dithering fools were feeding me my own shoes when they told me the Visan Spymaster might be you, but to see you here now… I actually rather feel bad for doubting them,’ he chuckles as Ryder seethes with barely repressed fury.

‘Theodoric,’ he grounds out through clenched teeth, his fingers play upon the repeater pistol in his holster. ‘What in the Nine have you done? What could you possibly achieve by going about with this murder?!’

And then the smile is gone, replaced by an expression so dark and so furious it’s startling. ‘What could I achieve you ask? What could I achieve by destroying the spineless, snivelling, conservative sycophants who backed the murder of my ancestors? The same weaklings who deemed them Radical? Dangerous? Insane?’

Then he’s all smiles again, and he bobs his head once as if confirming a thought he just had. ‘Not a lot if I’m honest, but it felt OH so satisfying.’

‘When the rest hear about this…’ Ryder snarls, and it’s clear that he’s shaking from being unable to simply snatch up his pistol and shoot this monster dead here and now.

‘Of who?’ Theodoric asks quizzically. ‘The rest of the Republican Nobility? Come now Aail, you know as I do that they care about little more than maintaining their lofty status. As long as they keep their Friday night partridge, they could care less about the affairs of the Parliament.
(cont)

>>32425492
>inb4 we have to roll to hold Ryder back

>>32425492
(cont)
‘And besides,’ he continues, ‘who on earth would really believe you of all people? The feared, notorious, bloodthirsty buccaneer of the skies. Rather short sighted of you, leaving all those who knew your real identity in one place where a determined enough mind could simply hack, hack, hack, and render you a mere, raving outcast.’

The rage in Ryder’s expression has now given way to doubt. Your gaze flickers from Ryder to the monster at the centre of the room, only now there are two, and you almost do a double take.

Stepping out from behind Theodoric, as if he were lurking in the Count’s shadow the whole time, is the Scythe, the skull tattoo all too clear to see. You see the rest of the crew tense up. Ryder however, admirably, clamps down on whatever he must be feeling and rails against Theodoric.

‘If you really think that I will allow you to get away with this treachery…’ he begins.

‘No,’ Theodoric interrupts, ‘I suppose if left to your own devices, you wouldn’t would you?’ he says mildly. ‘With that in mind…’ he raises his hands and claps sharply.

From the shadows lurch shapes, which gradually take on human forms. You realise with a lurching stomach that they are all the risen corpses of Palace Guards.

And they are all armed with reaper rifles.

‘Gentlemen!’ Theodoric calls, spreading his arms. ‘Please, allow me to get away with this treachery!’

>>32425647
And on that cliffhanger, I bid you goodnight. Apologies as to the length of that last part. I probably let the writefag part of me railroad this to fuck.

Thoughts and impressions matter, especially those bearing CC. Much obliged to you anons for following this. See you in the next few days.

>>32425699
Keep on keepin' on, OP.

>>32425699
Thanks for the thread

Rolled 15

>>32425699
Can't wait for the next one in 2-3 days