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A cataclysmic war, referred to hereafter as the Collapse, erupted about one thousand years into creation, and all but three demigods, all but two races, and all the gods died off. The tattered remnants of the world held together through the power of the three surviving demigods, including yours; the female demigod of the elves, named Asa. Three huge alchemic weather machines keep the world habitable, while the demigods have dispensed with the use of Heralds in favor of Avatars: physical projections of themselves that can walk and talk like people.

The afterlife was dismantled in the wake of the Collapse, and now, all souls are simply ‘inverted’ in the seas of Chaos outside reality after death, and absorbed by their corresponding demigod.

You were assigned by your King to track down a gang of bandits that had sided with the secessionists in the southlands, but were ambushed and nearly murdered by the conspiracy and their ancient weapon, the Orb of the Feathered Demon. Because the weapon can kill demigods, the Pantheon survivors made you a Herald in secret, and have charged you with killing the ten conspirators who survived the battle in the woods.


Previously, you killed Forest, and learned how the conspirators were tracking you: they had an ancient artifact that could tell you which direction you were, relative to the mirror. After slaying Forest, you returned to the castle to retrun your gear, and then you're going to go home to heal up.


All mechanics are based on a 1d100+modifier roll.

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The chilly winds of early winter sting your eartips as you walk up the steps to the castle’s barracks. You tugged the bandana off on the way in – no point in hiding now. After changing back into your clothing, you return your gear to the quartermaster and make your way up to the King’s chambers.

The King is doing what he probably does every Thursday: listen to nobles complain politely. He’s sitting in his throne in the main audience chamber, listening to two Merchants bicker, when you walk in. He stands up at once, interrupting the argument with a surprising lack of decorum. “Herald Ledren, you return,” he says grandly, and the room falls silent in an instant. “What news?”

You incline your head and sketch a quick bow. “We’re down to three, Sire, the leaders,” you inform him. “Moor, Kotrick, and their mysterious armorer.”

“Well done, Herald,” Maas says. “Your Eminence, if I may impose, might my court have the honor of your presence tomorrow night? The city wishes to greet you more formally than, say, yelling at you in the square.”

Your lips quick up in a smile as you see Maas hiding the impulse to do the same. This meeting must be REALLY boring.


>I’d be honored
>I shouldn’t
>writein

>>34981565
>I’d be honored

“I would be honored, your Majesty,” you inform him, bowing again.

“Excellent.” He notices your hand and frowns. “Did you suffer injury in the battle?”

“I did indeed,” you tell him, not even bothering to ask how he knew there was a fight. It was his guys you were using. “Minor injury. Asa will heal me.”

“Very well,” he says. “Then all I must ask is if the matter we previously discussed is resolved.” He obviously means the families of the people you killed.


>”No. One refused all offers, another didn’t even show up, and the third asked for little.”
>”As much as it’s going to be.”
>writein

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Off to dinner. Be back soon.

>>34981809
>”As much as it’s going to be.”

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testing

>>34981809
>>”No. One refused all offers, another didn’t even show up, and the third asked for little.”

>>34981809
>>”As much as it’s going to be.”

>>34981809
”No. One refused all offers, another didn’t even show up, and the third asked for little.”

images not displaying

>>34981809
as much as it will be

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Okay, either my thread is being toyed with by a bored mod - again - or there's something wrong with 4chan's netcode, because the thread isn't accepting bumps from me. If it dies, I'll make another.

Clam chowder is happening, then I'll write.

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>>34982538
Conspiracy.

>>34981809
>>”No. One refused all offers, another didn’t even show up, and the third asked for little.”

You sigh as you recall the meeting with the grieving families. “Well… no, Sire, one refused my aid. Another didn’t show, and the third asked for little.”

Maas nods. “Very well. You did your best.” He raises one hand. “Then I bid you farewell, Herald, until tomorrow evening.”

“By your leave, Sire,” you say, and bow out.

Immediately outside the antechamber, however, a porter stops you. “Your Eminence, I have this for you,” he says quietly, passing you an envelope. It’s signed by the King. “His Majesty demanded I now give this to you in the presence of others,” he continues.

“Thank you,” you say softly. As soon as he’s gone, you open it.

Inside is a small note. You glance it over.

-Herald Ledren,

The court need not know this, but a message marked with the Firesoul seal arrived in the Shadow barracks this morning. Acquire it and destroy this missive from me. I do not know if the enemy is watching your mail.

-King Maas


>Head right there
>Go nap in the barracks and have Asa heal your hand first
>Go home and get your mail tomorrow
>Writein

>>34983135
>>Head right there
Shit. You don't let messages from Master Sun wait.

>>34983135
>>Head right there
Quick, ignore the quest hook!

>>34983135
>Head right there
>Eat the note, or wait for a convenient fireplace.

You tuck the letter away and head downstairs, shielding your hand from view as you walk. When you arrive in the barracks, you wait an awkward few seconds for the Shadow in the Legion barracks to recognize you. When she does, she takes off, and returns with a sealed letter.

“Madam, this arrived late this morning,” the Shadow says, passing you the envelope. “We can’t open it.”

You frown as you accept the note. “You tried?”

“All packages sent straight here are checked for poison before they can get near the King,” the Shadow says patiently. “We can’t even crack the wax on this.”


>Read it here
>Go home first

>>34983931
>>Go home first

>>34983931
>Read it here

>>34983931
>>Read it here
There are probably few safer places in the city than the shadow barracks.

You examine the seal carefully. The seal is normal-looking wax, pressed into a mold with the image of a burning sun in the center of a stylized letter F. You run your finger over the embossing, and the wax suddenly vanishes. You and the Shadow both start, but nothing else happens until you pull the letter free.

Inside, there’s just one piece of paper, with a note written in large, hasty-looking letters.

-Herald Ledren.

-May I be what I am sure is nowhere near the front of the queue to offer you my congratulations, and perhaps the first to offer you my condolences? I am the last person alive who knows what you are enduring.

-I offer you those words in lieu of a formal introduction. I can only hope my friend Latona has revealed to you what you need to know in order to divine my identity. Or perhaps the divines themselves were of greater help.

-This letter reaches you with all possible haste. I have received your missive regarding Skyborn. Rather, Latona has informed me that it houses what you need to destroy to ensure the world’s guaranteed survival, if such a thing can be guaranteed. Sadly, after a thorough search of my library – an undertaking, at that – I can not find a way to destroy the demon’s corpse remotely.

You grip your hand on the enmpty envelope in rising anger and disappointment. If the most powerful person in the world can’t destroy the fucking thing, who can?

The letter continues.

-That does not mean that it is impossible, merely that it is impossible for people who write books. My dear friends in the Brotherhood and my own student Danto may be able to provide some insight. I find with a heavy heart that so many of the words and lessons an adventurer gains are lost to time, since they think their deeds shall outlive them.


(con’t)

-Herald, I am in my manor home in the north of Cender. I do not intend to stay here long. I understand, thanks to Latona, that a great evil has befallen beloved Clen, the city dearest to my heart. An evil that can kill the demigods, as if we can spare any.

-Were it anyone that did not have the love and trust of gentle Asa in their heart, I would say that no mortal warrior could undo this conspiracy. As you do, I suspect you’ve beaten them already.

“Oh, I wish,” you mutter.

-Do not leave the city, please. When I arrive on the last day of this month, I will stay but mere hours, before we depart.

We.

Your blood freezes.


Sun. Master Sun. Living God. Relic of the Dawn of Civilization. Expeditionary Master of the Firesouls. Eternally youthful, completely unstoppable, close friend of the Pantheon, legend given flesh. The man who saved all reality by entering the Rift and dueling the Horror Engine, where even Haret can’t go and return.

You’re going on a road trip to destroy a flying city.


>How does this make you feel?

>Pissed off – who is he to declare that you’re going anywhere?
>Excited – how many chances like this exist?
>Apprehensive – you need to stay and heal your marriage, no matter what.
>Scared – the conspiracy may not be broken that fast!
>Doubtful – Garren clearly didn’t tell him everything.

>writein

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>>34984743
>>Excited – how many chances like this exist?
ADVENTURE!

How many days till the end of the month?

>>34984743
>Apprehensive - oh god what if I don't meet his expectations
>Scared
>Excited

>>34984839

It's Thursday, the tenth of the month. There are twenty days left in the month.

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>>34984904
That's a whole 20 days to kill the rest of the conspiracy! Easy peasy!

>>34984743
>Scared – the conspiracy may not be broken that fast!
Well that and OH SHIT FIREPOWER

The rest of the letter is hard to read since your blood is about five degrees colder and your head is swimming, but you make it out.

-Naturally, I do not presume to steal your precious time. Should you not have finished the conspiracy off by then, I will lend you my aid, as best I can without destroying the country. At my age, precision sometimes eludes me.

That had better be a joke.

-If so, I can simply lend you advice and equipment – I shall bring a selection of old Elf Army gear with me to enhance your own, and I can always leave them with Danto if you don’t need it all. I shall also have a meeting with Maas – it’s been decades since we crossed paths, you know.

-Herald, if you are frightened by your appointment and power, don’t be. Asa would not have given you the power to carry – and subsequently twist – her words if you were not eminently worthy of trust and respect.

-By the light of the empty thrones, I am very truly yours.

Expeditionary Master Sun, Firesouls
--By All The Coldest Nights, A Fire Can Not Die


Well. That’s… awesome.

“Wow,” you whimper.

The Shadow looks at you oddly, but you turn your back and wobble off.


>Go home and heal
>Do something else in the castle

>>34985423
>Go home and heal
book about the rift and horror engine when?

>>34985423
Go home and heal
That and so something to work off a bit of tension. Deep breathing exercises or whatever

>>34985497

I wasn't going to write one. If you care, the Horror Engine was a weaponized ghost from the Collapse that managed to escape into a Chaos Rift that formed in the Trench, which was one of the many scars on Tarsh left by the Collapse. Haret is the most resilient Demigod, but even he can't immerse himself in the Rift, since it's partially submerged in elemental Chaos. Sun found a way to do by reversing time in a localized fashion thanks to a Spireling artifact that was, sadly, destroyed in the process.

It was called the Horror Engine because it was a gnome ghost (and remember that ghosts in this setting aren't the feeble spectres of the recent dead, but phantasmal beasts that are created with magic. Some ghosts start out as people that died at the same time as a bunch of others and therefore didn't get vacuumed up by the Pantheon at the moment of death like most souls - that's ALMOST what had happened to Elsa in the woods at the start of the quest, except that if the process had completed, it would have been impossible to revive her, and anointing her Herald would have killed her. Gnome ghosts were like any others, but thanks to the machinations (da-dum-tish) of the Gnome God, Gleiss, they could be bonded to enchanted machines.

This was not a wise decision on Gleiss's part.

For what it's worth, a Firesoul, strong Brother, fully-metamorphosed Herald, or Demigod could easily tank a ghost, but one that's both been bonded to a soul-shredding death motor and been immersed in Chaos for a month isn't so small a challenge, and VANQUISHING one involves forcing it into the afterlife, which is one-way. The problem? The ghost belonged to a race that had no remaining Pantheon members - it didn't HAVE an afterlife to go to, and was therefore both impossible to fully disperse and utterly insane, Haret and Sun figured out how to force it the rest of the way into Chaos and un-exist.

>>34985715
hardcore
how was it a threat to all reality? it sounds like it would just run around and run everyone's day, but not end the universe.

>>34985847
It wasn't a threat to all reality, just every soul within a few hundred miles. Still a problem.

>>34986025
would read a book about it/10

>>34986099
Yeah, Elsa was exaggerating the power of the Horror Engine a bit in her fangirling up there.

A bit. Sun doesn't mind that sort of thing. As far as he's concerned, that just means fewer people will challenge him to prove their mettle or whatever. He hates that.

Time to go home.

You duck down into the tunnels beneath the castle and jog home, emerging to find that the place is empty – Jerome must be at work. You tap the Gem. {Sister, how did you contact Jerome before?}

[He was on break, and I appeared to him in the breakroom. Luckily, he was alone. Why did you ask him for advice in besieging a mansion, by the way? He lifts boxes. All you did was scare him.]

You bristle. {I just wanted input.}

[Mm. Very well. What did the King say?]

{Little, though he invited me to a gala,} you remark, chucking your clothes into the bin to be washed. {He also gave me a letter from Master Sun.}

[Sun! Good! What did he say?]

{That he trusts I can handle things here, and when I do, we’re going to destroy Skyborn,} you say, still feeling a bit light-headed.

[Ah, I see. Do you still have the teleporter? That could save some time.]

{Yes.}

[Good. Now, go lie down somewhere. I need to heal your hand.]

{Right.}

You don a bathrobe and stretch out on the couch, closing your eyes.

Roll 1d100 on the Dream Table.

Rolled 35 (1d100)

>>34986171

Oooh, that's a good one. This will take a while.

Rolled 1 (1d100)

>>34986171

>>34986397
good thing this didn't get rolled in a combat situation

>>34986473
I know, you pick up new scars pretty quick that way.

Oh, life! Life, new and vibrant!

Mother looks fondly down at you from on high, and caresses the bliss, and doors open.

All around you in the bliss, gasps and cries of surprise and other new emotions ring out, but not from you. All you do is stare through the door, at a new world, a blank world.

“Bravest of my children!” Mother says, catching your ears – you have those now! “O, my children, my beloved little ones! Here is a new world! Here is a new life! Here is existence, fresh and unsullied by our intervening and our tampering! Go! O, my little souls, my elves, go, and find new joy!”

You turn to the door and walk through.

Bliss is over.

You sink to your knees – you have those now! – and gasp, now, for you didn’t before, and it’s new. You run your fingers – flesh! You have flesh – across your face, and you find contours, new things. Knowledge fills you! Oh, knowledge! You know! You speak!

“Mother! The soil, it is real!” you cry, in the tongue of the gods, but you are silent, and your voice is a thought, and Mai’te hears you.

=You! Soul! You are the first! You are my first new child!=

“I am first?” you ask the air. All around you, doors open, and souls emerge, and they find their flesh, and you see the bliss to which you shall return, and then it is gone. “What is the first, mother?”

Your mind speaks. =O! Soul! That you bear the courage! That you take the step, that you test my creation, my friends’ creation! You hear me in your mind, for I am within you, the spark of that which is the god-like and the blissful!= Her mind-speaking quiets. =So brave, so strong. So curious! Go and speak! Speak to the others! Tell them I love them now, in this harshest of moments!=


(con’t)

You raise your head and stare through your meat-eyes, and see thousands of souls given flesh, kneeling and staring into the cool, clear waters, at the deep brown soil, and the endless blue sky, and at the bright green trees. They shy from the light of the sun, as Mother said to do. Some have skin that is fair and light, some have skin that is dark and looks like shadow, some have skin that is brown like sand, and others yet have the colors of the sky in their hair and skin that almost looks green.

Beside you, a woman – those exist! You are a man, this you know, and she will carry a seed of the flesh in her belly – rises to her feet and stares into the water. “It is good,” she whispers, and her voice doesn’t ring like yours. “It is good, what Mother has made, and it is not perfect, and we shall love it.” Tears gather in her eyes. “It is good.”

“Mother loves us and this world, and the hands we have shall sculpt it, and we shall keep it all clean,” you say, rising to stand beside her. The soul… no, the woman. She graps your hand and smiles into your meat-eyes.

“Yes,” she says quietly. Then a small frown touches her skin. “Oh… but you are different,” she says. She reaches up to caress your face, and you smile at the feeling – her hand feels like the warmth of the sun on your bare skin. “Ah, but you are different in shape,” she wonders. “Are you our leader?”

“No,” you say automatically. “I am a soul, as are you.”

“Yes, but you are an elf,” she says, placing her hands on your forehead and pressing against something. “Ah… this is not known?”


(con’t)

You run your hands over your face and find something cold and hard there, and press it. It hurts. “Ah, yes,” you say to yourself. “Am I… is this harm?”

=My son!= Mai’te says, and you blink at the sound of her voice. =Your mother speaks to you now, in your mind-space, and I am your parent still! You shall be Guide, and you shall be of great help to the people! I will not abandon you! All shall prosper, by my word from your lips!= Again, her voice quiets, but now all are listening, and your lips move, and she speaks through you, and all hear. =My children! My Heaven-born! O, my beloved sons and daughters! Go! People the new home, and bring joy and hard work and bliss to all the world again, until you return to my embrace, and all is better for it! A home, a home I make for you, O elves, and all others who walk the world anew, and you are the bravest! All hear me, and all hear my servant, now! This is your Guide! Go and mate, and build, and breathe the spark of the divine into new life, and raise your children, and pass along my love, my protection, O elves! All the world is waiting!=

You are Guide, and you are the first. You are the Guide, and as you lower your head and weep tears of loss for the bliss, of joy for your mother’s love, of anticipation for life and existence afresh, and above all: because you can, you see. You see the world laid out before you, and the Chaos is gone, and all is flesh and soil and water and light, glorious light, the light of the heavens granted to the firmament, and as men and women kneel and raise their hands to their Mother, you are their Guide, and all shall hear you. You are the First.

You are her Speaker. Oh, but her love, and her trust! Mother has not forsaken you, but blessed you.


(con’t)

You are Elsa Ledren, and what the FUCK was that?

You sit bolt upright in your robe, spilling the fabric aside. You’re panting, you’re sweating, and what the FUCKING FUCK? Did you… did you just remember the birth of the world?

Jerome stares from his seat by the fireside. “Erm… Elsa?” he asks carefully. “Are you all right?”

>Wat do

>>34987444
>>Wat do
Contemplate the presence of some crazy good drugs at the birth of the world.

>>34987444
>"I think I was just the first elf. I spoke with Mother."

Back and writing.

You cradle your head in your hands and try to keep from giggling like a maniac. Even a few hazy, indistinct memories of heaven are like a punch to the brain. “I, uh. I had a crazy dream again. I think I saw the creation of the… elf race.”

Jerome gasps. “What?”

“I saw… I saw Guide. I saw the first Herald, the first elf,” you murmur. The memory is fading a bit, but it isn’t fading much. “The Heaven-born.”

“What did it look like?” Jerome demands. You look up in surprise at the intensity of his voice, and see it’s matched by the intensity of his stare. “What did you see?”

“I… I saw Mai’te breathe life into the first souls, and release them into the world,” you say, thinking hard. So much of it was wrapped up in inexpressible metaphor and divine power, it’s hard to transcribe. “I saw them leaving the afterlife…”

“I thought that was impossible!” he declares.

“So did I,” you mutter.

>Page Asa
>Try to parse all this by yourself
>writein

>>34988343
>Try to parse this all ourself
we bother Asa too much already

>>34988343
>Try to parse all this by yourself

“You could ask Asa,” Jerome suggests.

“I bug her enough as it is,” you say. “I should… just think on this.”

He shrugs. “Your call. If you remember more, though, tell me. That stuff is really cool. The first elves, and all that. Or the humans, I guess, they’re all right.”

You snort. “All right, yeah. They’re all right.” You sit up and close your robe. “So… how long have you been… home…” your voice trails off as you see what he’s doing. “How many bundles of firewood did you buy?”

He’s stacking bundles of wood, tied off with twine Dozens, stuffing the firebox and the floor next to it Looking out the window, you see more in the backyard. “Oh, as many as I thought we could fit in the house,” he says. “Got one going.” Sure enough, there’s a bundle on the fireplace, twine string and all, burning nicely. “Figure it’ll get more expensive soon.”

“And we’ve saved a lot of money with me being out of town for weeks,” you agree. “Nice thinking.” He grins.

You stand and stretch. “Sorry I spooked you at work,” you say sheepishly. “I just wanted to know… I dunno.”

“It’s fine,” he says. “We were alone.” He fidgets with some twine before rubbing his hands on his pant legs. “So… um. There’s some guys at work who are asking questions about you,” he says carefully. “How much are you okay with me saying about you? Your behaviors and stuff. You know.”


>Nothing intimate, but all else is fine.
>I’m not okay with you sharing anything.
>Use your judgement.
>writein

>>34988726
>Use your judgement. I trust you not to share anything I wouldn't want you to.
>Which is pretty much just nothing intimate.

“Behaviors?” you ask.

“Well, you know, what you’re like.”

“In bed, or something?”

He blanches. “No, no, just… in general.”

You shrug. “Well, use your judgment. You can talk about me, just don’t share intimate stuff. I trust you.”

“Thanks,” he says. He disappears into the kitchen. “You were out for a few hours. It’s dinnertime, if you’re hungry.”

“I’m starving,” you admit.

In the kitchen, he already has some salted turkey and cranberry sauce laid out. “Figure it’s time for the fall foods,” he chuckles. “Good thing Darril gave me a recepie book for my birthday.”

You grin as you remember the party you held for him before you went off to muster, a mere eighty days back. “I remember! That was fun.”

“Yep. Twenty five, I’m an old man,” he sighs. “And your birthday is in… what, four weeks?”

“Yeah,” you agree.


>”This is a good time to tell you about this letter I got today.”
>”The battle went well.”
>writein

>>34989188
>”This is a good time to tell you about this letter I got today.”

You sit at the table as he works the food. “So… I got a letter at work today,” you tell him. “From Master Sun, of all people.”

He looks up. “Come again?”

“Master Sun, of the Firesouls,” you say. “He thinks we can destroy the Orb’s power source if we work together.”

Your husband slowly shakes his head. “You’re in a new league, sweetheart.”

“It’s a bit scary,” you admit. “It means a lot to me that you’re sticking around.”

He scoffs. “You kidding? I wouldn’t get off the horse now, it’s too exciting.”

You both laugh, even though you detect a hint of intimidation in his voice. “Anyway, we’ll be meeting in a few weeks to see what options we have,” you tell him. “Nothing’s set in stone.”

He nods. “Okay. How did the fight today go?”


>Tell him about all of it, including the warehouse fight
>Just focus on the part he knows about – the manor fight
>Writein

bumping for the voters

>>34989513
>Tell him about all of it, including the warehouse fight
leave out the gory bits

>>34989513
>Tell him about all of it, including the warehouse fight

You grimace at the memory of your hand getting impaled, but set it aside and start telling the tale.

Maybe it’s your Heraldic powers, but he sits spellbound, as you tell him everything. You mention your hand, but you don’t go into too much detail about the whole thing with poor Roland.

As you finish, you look out the window and see it’s already dark. It’s barely seven PM, too. “Incredible,” he says quietly. You look back to see Jerome looking into his empty plate. “Elsa, can I be honest… of course I can.” He sighs. “Your powers scare me.”

“They scare me, too,” you admit. “What can I do, though?”

“Nothing,” he says heavily. “You’d never use them on me, right?” He shakes his head. “No. So… I guess I don’t know what I’m scared of.”


>”Maybe you’re scared of my powers pulling me away.”
>”Old Heralds abused their powers. Asa wouldn’t let me do that.”
>”The very first Heralds were pure, innocent beings. I should be more like them.”
>”Neither do I.”
>writein

>>34990159
>>”Neither do I.”

You awkwardly shrug. “Neither do I, I guess. This is… it’s Asa’s power.” You think back to your vision of the dawn of life. “Mai’te wanted the Heralds… they were called Speakers or Guides back then… to be friends, not punishers. I wonder how much power they got after the fact.”

He nods glumly. “Did the old Heralds ever get married?”

“Um…” You review your memories quickly. “I have no idea if it was common later on, but it was expected that they would mate, earlier in time.”

“Huh.” He brushes off his hands and stands up. “Well. I’m going to go get the house warmed up.”

“I think I want hot cocoa, actually,” you say, cinching the robe. “Then I’ll come join you.”


[Temporary end of the thread]
Please keep it up for Saturday morning.

bump

>>34990596
Fun threads, work's been killing me and it's hard for me to catch 'em these days

>>34992139

True. Even harder here. We have a General Election on, and I have Election Work that's kept me occupied.

>>34993485
bonk

>>34993485

And another election over. Nats win as expected.

Meanwhile, back to our regularly scheduled quest.

>>34995675
>not being american
>2014

back. thanks!

You’re sitting in your robe with your back to the couch, while Jerome stretches out on it, and you’re both lost in your books.

Jerome’s paging through some novel or another. You never took to those. You’re wrapping up your horrible romance story.

“So does that book stay silly to the end?” he asks idly.

“Oh, yes,” you chuckle. “It’s deliciously awful.” He snorts.

“At least you’re enjoying it.” He sets his own book down. “Hey, sweetheart, I’ve been wondering. You don’t have to talk about this if you don’t want to.”

“Hmm?”

“Why did you decide to join the military, anyway? You didn’t seem to like being a squad leader at all,” he asks.


>I liked the responsibility
>I wanted to travel
>The money was good
>Command sucked, but I liked the training
>writein

>>34997286
>I wanted to serve my country

You think about that for a moment as you set your own, finished book aside. “I guess I joined because I wanted to serve. Cender needed soldiers.”

“Yeah.” He sits up on the couch as you scoot forward and drop another log on the fire. “I understand. It never appealed to me, but I understand. I joined the armory because I was good at what I did, and I liked the hard work.”

“It’s satisfying to do something you’re good at,” you say.

“Yeah.” Jerome moves to sit behind you, and you playfully squeeze his knees as he stations his legs on either side of you. “Have I told you about what Darril told me?”

“No. What did he say?”

“He said that none of his students have heard about this Kotrick guy, but a few of their parents are looking at him funny because they know he’s related to you. Should he keep an eye on them?”


>If he thinks it will help.
>No, it’s not worth pursuing this late in the chase.
>writein

>>34997649

>If he thinks it will help.

You shrug again. “If he thinks it will help, I guess he can. Just make sure he knows not to risk anything. It’s not worth him getting hurt.”

“Yeah, okay.” Jerome leans forward and rests his hands beside your ears, stroking your hair a little, and you snuggle back against the couch to enjoy it. “Have you heard from that third family?”

You sigh at the recollection of the family that didn’t even show up to the meeting at the library. “No, I haven’t,” you admit. “I should try to reach them again this weekend.”

“Okay.”

The two of you sit in silence for a few more minutes, just watching the logs burn away, before he shifts his hands to rest behind your ears, whichy makes you twitch and giggle. “Hey, that tickles,” you tell him.

“Heh.” He keeps going. “Elsa… it’s pretty early still.”

“Yeah?”

He caresses the back of your ears again. “Want to play tonight?”


>”I’m not interested in sex right after I killed somebody, actually.”
>”Sure, that would be great.”
>writein

>>34997937
>”Sure, that would be great.”
>implying right after killing someone isn't the best time to have sex
that second line is a joke elsa should not say it

It’s been a long day. It’s been a rough day. Your husband’s fond attention is more or less perfect for what you need.

You glance over your shoulder at him and grin. “I’d love that.”

His smile could light the sky. He quickly starts shucking clothes as you shed your robe, but before you can head up to the bedroom, he catches your wrist. “Here’s fine,” he says eagerly.

You bite your lip. “We’ll mess up the couch.”

“Don’t need it.” He finishes undressing and drops his clothes in a pile on the ground in front of the fireplace. Curious, you let him ease you down into a crouch. “Here,” he says, tossing your robe into a corner. He slips his hands under your bottom and pulls you in closer.

“Ooh, good idea,” you say approvingly as comprehension dawns. You awkwardly snug your legs around his back as he rests you in his lap, catching his erection between your stomach and his. You raise yourself up a degree and feel him align himself with your vagina, then pause long enough to tease you a moment longer. “Mmm… you feel ready,” you murmur.

“For you, always,” he says softly, then he gently pulls you down.

You arch your back and groan as he slips inside you, and you and your husband share slow, passionate sex by the fireside.


(con’t)

Jerome’s out cold on the couch, wrapped up in a bundle of blankets, as you perch on the seat by the bay window and look out at the night.

The clouds drift off on the winter wind, showering the city in starlight. You stare up into the darkness and think to yourself.

A gala tomorrow. A Royal gala. What do you need? What should you bring? Your Heraldic tunic, of course, but the armor too? And what should you do about the family you can’t find? Try Maas’ couriers again?

Your idle mind wanders back to the vision you had of the Heaven-born. You wonder what it was like, creating society in a complete absence of precedent. How scary and exhilarating the basic experiences of existence must have been for a world where there had been no such thing. It’s a head-full.

A muffled sound from the couch draws your eye. Jerome shifts a bit in his sleep and settles back down. It’s most unfair, actually, you think to yourself. An orgasm makes men sleepier, but it amps you up most of the time. They’re the lucky ones.

You look back out to the city streets, letting your thoughts collect. It’s dark out at 3 in the morning, and there’s not much traffic outside, patrols or otherwise.

Until there is. You squint down the street through the misty glass as a group of forty or fifty people appear, walking slowly, all carrying torches. You slowly stand up and cinch your losse-hanging robe as they start walking in your direction. The patrolling Guard outside slows, watching them.

They’re not violent, they’re not shouting. This isn’t a riot. What’s going on?

>get kitted up and go check
>put on disguise and try to blend in
>page Asa and ask what’s up
>writein

>>34998438
>start getting kitted up, ask Asa while doing so
>if she doesn't know go out and check

You stand and walk towards the bedroom, here your armor is waiting on the stand. As you do, you page Asa. {Sister, there’s a group of fifty people with torches outside my house.}

[Are they doing anything?]

{No.}

[Then I expect we’re witnessing the rebirth of a phenomenon I found profoundly annoying back in the day, but generally harmless,] she says wearily. [Fans.]

You freeze with your fingers inches from your armor. {…Pardon?}

[Paparazzi, fanatic devotees, call them whatever you like,] Asa sighs. [Fans. They’re lining up for your autograph, to see you and scurry away, whatever. Somebody found out where you live.]


>How react

>>34998779
>Be the cool celebrity and ignore them.

{They’re parked outside my house at three in the morning, hoping to see me… what, sleep?} you ask incredulously.

[I did use the word ‘fanatic,’ didn’t I?] Asa asks drily. [Just use the tunnel until somebody suggests they have the wrong address and they wander off, or something.]

Great.


>It’s time to prioritize tomorrow’s tasks!


>Go see Arisa and make sure she’s okay
>Go check on Dervich to see if he got reassigned again
>Get ready for the gala – clean your clothes and get some actual makeup
>Go talk to either Kelscik, Culler, or both to see if they have any suggestions, like Sun said
>Check in with Gherta to see what advice she can offer regarding finding Moor’s weakness
>writein

YOU MAY SUGGEST ALL OR NONE OF THESE THINGS. I’ll be back in an hour, after chores.

>>34999136
>Check on Arisa
>Gala prep
>Check with Gherta
>Check on Dervich if we have time

>>34999136
Gala prep? I dunno, I mean that should be last priority, lets get to checkin on Arisa.

>>34999530
I disagree. The Gala is tomorrow night, prep should be very high priority. I almost put it first, but Arisa deserved a check-in after yesterday.

You stand up from the armor rack, rubbing your eyes. {All right, I’m going to try to rest. I’ve got a lot to do tomorrow.}

[Such as?]

{Well, I need to make sure Arisa’s okay, first,} you suggest. {Then I need to get ready to go to the King’s gala, and see if Gherta has any ideas about pursuing Moor. Then, I should make sure Dervich didn’t get yanked out from under me, since I may need his help later… and I guess I should check on that last family, too.}

[You’ll be busy. There’s a gala?]

{The King is hosting some kind of party,} you tell her as you walk back downstairs to get the clothes cleaned up. {I’m invited.}

[Fun. Do let me know how that goes.]

{I will,} you promise.


>Tell her about the dream
>Just go clean up, meditate, and try to catch some sleep

>>34999990
>Tell her about the dream
May as well if she isn't busy and we're not distracting her from ghosts

>>34999990
>>Tell her about the dream
Hopefully this doesn't cause another Haret tantrum.

{I had another dream, and this one was just weird,} you remark, as you descend into the basement with an armful of messy clothes. {I think it was the Dawn of the Heaven-born.}

[…What.]

{I dreamed about the birth of life, when Asa opened one-way gates out of Heaven and released souls into the world. I remember the speech she gave. I saw Guide, the first Herald.}

[…Are you sure?]

{Yeesssss…} you say slowly, now not sure if telling her was a good idea.

[Incredible! You actually saw it? All of the souls of the Heaven-born had been reabsorbed by Mother long before I closed the gates of heaven,] Asa says, flabbergasted. [A few memories from that time were preserved by the Heralds’ telepathic abilities… I guess some found their way to you? I didn’t even think to look for them!]

You frown as you start cleaning your shirt from the battle. {You didn’t know you had memories of the Dawn in your mind?}

[I had no reason to look for them. It preceeded me by about a hundred years, remember? This is remarkable. I wish I could see them without you killing yourself,] she says, apparently dead serious. [You already saw Heaven a few times, so… nobody’s too mad. I just don’t understand where these memories are coming from, now. You’re seeing recollections that predate my existence, and LONG predate my role as the absorber of memories for Mother’s absence, which I didn’t know I had in me, and certainly didn’t give you consciously. This is all very strange.]


>If you think you know where the memories are coming from, venture a suggestion. If not, just vote >Move on

>>35000242
>when Asa opened
Mai’te*
lrn2urquest, maul

>>35000242
>>If you think you know where the memories are coming from, venture a suggestion. If not, just vote >Move on
The disc thingy that has been conspicuously present yet done nothing so far.

>>35000414
Glurr. Sorry. I'll fix it in the final version.

>>35000242
dead prawn god? cannabalized ability?

{Could it be from the pieces of other Heralds and demigods I’ve absorbed?} you ask. {I have human and praun deific powers.}

[Were those species present in that specific spot?] she asks.

{No.}

[Then how could they remember it? No, this is something else.]

{Perhaps the talisman Haret gave me,} you muse.

[Mmm… no, same problem.] She sighs. [It’s worth pondering, but not right now. For now, just hang in there. It sounds like you have a lot to do, so I’ll let you go to it.]

{Can those pricks outside see through the wards you put up?} you ask.

[No. Nor can they enter.]

{Then they can go be cold,} you think dismissively. {Thanks, Sister.}

[Indeed. We shall speak again tomorrow.]


[END OF THREAD]
See you all in a SPECIAL EDITION on Sunday Night!

>>35000797
Thanks for running!