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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 died and returned after a partially botched operation to kill Elger Moor. You’ve been restored, but a lot of people died, and your husband and you had a bit of a breakdown, though you’re both cosmetically better again.

For now.


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

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As you settle down on the couch after dinner, you think back to the events of the morning. Were you unfair? Was Jerome unfair? Was life itself being a pain in the ass?

Probably, probably, and absolutely.

You clear your throat as Jerome reaches for his book. “Um…”

He hesitates, sighs, and slowly leans back in his seat. He knew this was coming. “So…” he says awkwardly.

“I apologize,” you say with a sigh. “I didn’t mean to be condescending. This isn’t what you signed up for.”

“I just gave up arguing,” he says sullenly. “I thought you’d understand.”

“I do now,” you insist. “This is the kind of conflict that destroys military families, I’ve seen it. We need to talk it, while we can.”

He shifts in his seat. “Look… okay. Fine. What did you want to say?”

“I put you down before, and I didn’t mean to,” you tell him. “There’s more important issues than the house we live in. We just have to leave this house eventually, since I’m not Auxilia anymore. So… dying. Obviously, that’s a horrible thing to go through, twice too, but… it’s got to be almost as bad to watch, since I came back.”

He shakes his head. “No… I’m sure it was worse for you,” he says. “I felt like shit for jumping down your throat.”

“Yeah, but it’s been building up,” you sigh. “Ever since I got the first deployment, two months after we started dating. I go risk my life, you don’t hear from me, I come back with new scars.”

“I do hate that powerless feeling,” he mutters. “That part sucks.”


(con’t)

“We don’t talk about it, because we love each other, because we know how good we have it anyway, because the sex is great, because we’re both aware of ourselves,” you continue, staring into the fire. “We should have been talking about it for those exact reasons. We can’t lose this.” You look up into his light brown eyes. “I can’t lose you. The last thing I thought before Asa awoke me in the forest was that I regretted not making you a father, Jerome. You were my last conscious thought.” You reach across the table and grip his hand. His heavy, scarred fingers close around yours. “Please, talk to me.”


His gaze slowly sinks to the floor. “I… yes. I should.” He slowly retrieves his hand and grinds his palms into his eyes. “Oh, I guess I’ll start,” he groans. “Elsa, sweetheart, I’m sick of worrying all the time. I’m just sick of it.”

You nod, letting him speak. “I just hate the powerlessness. I hate the indecision, the… what’s the word? Distraction, I guess,” he says, sighing and sinking back into the chair. “I hate it. Hate it hate it.”

“Yeah. What can I do about that?” you ask him. “Is there anything?”

He sighs again, flopping his arms down on the armrests. “Ah, hell, Elsa, I dunno,” he finally says. “Is there?”

“Not in my abilities,” you admit. “Maybe Asa can come up with something?”

“Doesn’t hurt to ask,” he says tiredly.

You nod. “Is there anything else I should have known? Anything? I’ve been so busy that I haven’t been paying enough attention.”

He sighs. “Well… I mean, that’s not your fault. You’d be fighting in the south right now if it weren’t for all this. But… I already told you about the city.” His broad face colors with a grimace. “But you’re right. We need to move somewhere.”


(con’t)

“We can stay here in Clen,” you assure him. “I’ll do what I can. I do have to go visit this place, at least,” you admit. “But we don’t have to move there.”

“Alright.” He stretches out sideways in the love seat. “Hmm… eh. I guess that’s… I guess that’s it.”

“Okay.” You think over the last few mad weeks. Is there anything that you should tell him?


>”I’m glad you told me. Now we can fix it.”
>”We only need to hold out for two more. Then we can live like normal.”
>”Things will never be normal, but we can make it better.”
>writein

>>35735185
>>”I’m glad you told me. Now we can fix it.”
>”I’m glad you told me. Now we can fix it.”

>>35735185
>”Things will never be normal, but we can make it better.”

He’s still sprawled out on the chair. You rise from your seat and go crouch beside him,, looking up into his pretty brown eyes. “Thanks.”

He blinks. “What?”

“For telling me.” You reach up and pull one hand away from his head, where he’s leaning on his hands. “I’m glad.” You slowly bring his hand to your lips and press them against the backs of his fingers. “Now we can fix it,” you finish quietly. “And… I’m sorry.”

He starts to say something, but catches himself. He knows you’re still going. “I’m sorry I keep being wrong when I say I won’t get hurt. I’m sorry I keep scaring you.” You squeeze his hand. “I’m sorry.”

Jerome grips your hand back. “It’s… no. I’m sorry I keep trying to keep this bottled up until I start sobbing in front of my wife and demigoddess,” he sighs.

“We can’t go back to normal,” you tell him. “But we can make it better. I’m a noble now… we’ll be better off. Especially if I can get the King to leave us some of that war chest,” you think aloud.

He snorts. “That’d be nice.” He’s Jerome again.


>Turn in
>Ask Asa about the next day’s activities
>Writein

>>35735938
>Turn in

>>35735938
>Ask Asa about the next day’s activities

The two of you are both drained after that discussion. Is it a surprise? You’ve been through hell. You more than him, but then, you’re the one with superpowers.

You curl up on the bed, waiting for him to finish in the bathroom, turning over the events of the last few days in your mind. Maybe Asa can lend some insight. You tap the Gem as Jerome putters around with the razor. {Sister, do you have a quick moment to confer?} you think. The thought vanishes into the ether in the span of a heartbeat. It’s going to take a lot of getting used to this.

[I do. What is it?]

{I’ve been out for a day and a half. What should I know?}

[Well, I imagine Arisa’s angry because you missed the meeting with her on Sunday to go talk to Gherta,] Asa says.

You freeze. {I did?}

[It was Sunday afternoon,] she reminds you.

…Oops. Right.

[And you should go talk to Ekrine or the King about finding new housing, and I very strongly recommend talking to Dervich and helping him through this,] she finishes. [He doesn’t have a partner to commiserate.] She thinks for all of one lightspeed moment. [Then go find those artifacts Forest had. I locked them in your basement for you to peruse. Rather, I had the King have it done.]


>Rate these things in order of urgency!

>Talk to Ekrine/Maas
>Talk to Dervich
>Apologize to Arisa
>Look at the artifacts

You may also vote to skip one or two if you think they’re unimportant

>>35736481
>Talk to Dervich
>Apologize to Arisa
>Look at the artifacts
>Talk to Ekrine/Maas

>>35736481

>>Talk to Ekrine/Maas
>>Talk to Dervich
>>Look at the artifacts
>>Apologize to Arisa

Closing poll in five minutes.

{….Shiiiit. I should go talk to Dervich and the King first, then take care of Arisa,} you admit. {Then those artifacts. Those are inert, right? They can wait.}

[They are. Very well, then. Will you ask Arisa to have me independently confirm your identity?] she asks.

{I doubt it,} you tell her.

[All right. Good luck.]

{Thanks.} You release your forehead – a few seconds passed. Less. Jerome isn’t even done in the bathroom. This new power is strong, alright.


>Do something else before sleep
>Just go to sleep

>>35737221
>Just go to sleep
I guess we learned to keep at least 2 days open after completing a raid.

A moment later, Jerome joins you on the bed, and you hoist yourself up to go clean.

When you see yourself in the mirror, though, you recoil. The brand is now completely bisecting both eyes, picking up on the cheeks below them, and lancing down towards your collarbone. It’s not to the neck, yet, but it’s near your ears, and the brand is sneaking up through your hairline. It’s not really possible to conceal, now.

You stare at your reflection and run your hand over it. “Jerome?”

“Yeah?”

“When did my brand start covering my face like this?”

He peers through the door. “Today.”

“Is it… I mean, it’s big,” you say. “This doesn’t gross you out?”

“No. Which is weird, right? Maybe it’s because Mai’te designed it,” he says.

“Yeah.” You force that from your mind and start in on your bathroom chores.


In bed, you settle down under the comforter – it’s cold enough to warrant one, now – and drift off to sleep.


The next morning, you roll out of the bed after meditating until it was a decent hour to rise. Jerome is still out cold, so you go downstairs and prepare some food. The crowd outside has returned, unfortunately.


>Leave by the door
>Duck out the back
>Go out the tunnel
>writein

>>35737711
>Go out the tunnel
Let's hope they don't track us down based on our inability to disguise ourselves.

Best not take chances.

You quickly dress in your Heraldic clothes – no point in concealing it now – and arm up with one Shadow sword, just for security, and your dagger at your back. You slip your tiara on under your hood and clasp your green cloak over it all. “Time to get moving,” you mutter. You leave a quick note for Jerome and duck into the basement.

You jog down the tunnel for the castle, and emerge into the quietest scene you’ve ever witnessed in the building. Aside from a few token Guards, the place is empty. “Where is everybody?” you mutter. “Is it somebody’s birthday?”

That question kicks off a new train of thought. It’s Thursday. Your birthday is in fifteen days, the Friday after next. You’ll be twenty five. Maybe, if you’re lucky, this will be wrapped up by then. That’d be nice.

Dervich is bunked on the top floor, you knew. You had heard that he was going to move out, but you hope you can catch him.

As you climb up to the top of the barracks, though, you see a familiar light shining out in the room. You round a corner and see Haret and Dervich talking.


>Give them privacy
>Go talk to them
>writein

>>35738359
>>Go talk to them

>>35738359
>Go talk to them

You start over to your sidekick when he spots you. He holds up a hand immediately, drawing Haret’s attention. “Oh, Elsa,” Haret says. “Good. Would you please give us a moment? This is a private concern.”

>”Yes, sir. I need to go see the King anyway.”
>”I’d rather not…”
>writein

>>35738772
>>”Yes, sir. I need to go see the King anyway.”
CONSPIRACY

>>35738772
>”Yes, sir. I need to go see the King anyway.”
;_;

You nod at once. “Yes, sir. I’ll see you later, Alan.”

He nods, looking strangely excited. “For sure. Catch you in an hour or so.” Haret shakes his head slightly, and then they’re out of sight.

You walk up to the Royal quarters and join the diminished queue outside the King’s audience chamber. At once, the buzzing starts, as all the nobles and Guards look at you in excited whispers. It’s a pattern you don’t like. It’s far nicer to just talk to people, rather than having them give you funny looks.

Fortunately, one finds their courage. “My Lady Ledren?” one noble asks. “Madam. Duke Astrun, at your service.” The withered old human sketches a stately bow. “Thank you so much for taking this whole mess seriously.”

“It’s my duty, sir,” you say diplomatically. “And I’m honored to serve again. I was Auxilia before all this, you know,” you say, taking in your clothes with a gesture.

“Ah? I as well,” he says. “Well, Legion.” He seems about to say more when the crier calls his name. “Ah. Farewell to you, your Eminence,” he says, bowing again.

The conversation flows a bit more smoothly after that, until the queue in front of you is gone, and your name is called. You walk up into the Audience room and bow before the King.

When you look up, you see a few lines of stress and annoyance on his face. “Ah, Herald Ledren, welcome back,” he says. He’s still piqued about the money Kelscik and Culler demanded? Wow. “How are you faring?”

“Well, your Majesty,” you tell him, inclining your head again as you rise. “I come here this day to inform you of a realization of mine.”

“That being?” he asks.


>”I can’t actually live in the Auxilia family housing any more.”
>”By your grace, may I reside in the Auxilia housing until I find suitable lodgings for which the Auxilia isn’t paying?”
>writein

>>35739300
>”I'm not actually eligible to live in Auxilia family housing anymore. By your grace, may I reside in the Auxilia housing until I find suitable lodgings for which the Auxilia isn’t paying? I will probably be unable to search in earnest until the conspirator issue is settled.”

Finally back.

I should be able to do a normal posting schedule for the rest of the night.

>>35739462
Nice improv.

“I'm not actually eligible to live in Auxilia family housing anymore. By your grace, may I reside in the Auxilia housing until I find suitable lodgings for which the Auxilia isn’t paying? I will probably be unable to search in earnest until the conspirator issue is settled.”

The King nods. “Indeed, indeed. Sadly, such lodgings are not in short supply.” He nods to an aide, who scurries off. “On another note, Herald. You have heard of Kotrick’s escape?”

“I have,” you tell him. “The mines.”

“Quite so.” Maas raises one hand to gesture out the window. “Naturally. He picks a mine we’re using.”

“He’s a spiteful sort,” you grumble under your breath. Aloud, you ask a question. “Sire, with so many forces dispatched or depleted, how can we take him? Or Novai Faren, for that matter?”

The King sighs, inaudibly. You can only tell because of his slight rise in his seat. “Sadly, we have few to spare, and we can’t afford to hire mercenaries for a siege,” he says. “But I’m working on finding the men. I’m confident.”


>Anything else to ask, or do we go help Dervich move out?
>writein

>>35740261
>go help Dervich move out?

>>35740261
>Make a joke about being unable to replicate the last team due to outrageous prices.

>Go help Dervich.

“Then by your leave, Sire, I must go,” you tell him. “My new Paladin needs help moving to new lodgings as well.”

The King stands to bow. “Farewell, your Eminence. Let me know the moment you’re ready to attack one of our two enemies.”


Below, you walk into the barracks again, and again, you see Haret and Dervich. This time, though, Dervich is sitting on a bunk, cradling his chest, while Haret stands beside the bed, watching calmly. You slowly approach, wondering exactly what you’re interrupting. “Does it yet resonate?” Haret asks Dervich as you come within hearing range.

“A little, maybe,” Dervich says through clenched teeth. “Mostly, it just hurts.”

Haret nods, slowly. “I know, my son. I know. Bear it. It will fade. Your soul is clean, your heart is mended.” He turns to face you as you approach. “Ah. Herald Ledren. Welcome back.” He points grandly to Dervich, who’s slowly rising to his feet. “Behold, your new Paladin. The consecration is complete.”


(con’t)

You stare at them both. “The what?”

Dervich slowly unclenches his jaw. “Haret… tells me that I’m one of only a dozen Herald guards who isn’t the same race as the person they’re protecting,” he says stiffly. “And I’m not a Shieldbearer, so… apparently, this is new.”

The human demigod clasps Dervich’s shoulder. “Quite so. I thought it appropriate to ensure that that inter-species issue did not obstruct your work.” He releases Dervich and spreads his arms, hands open. “Now, he is more than a mere guard or servant. As the priests of old were protected by the warriors in their congregations, so too are you, Herald. I suppose if we’re going to bring back the old ways,” he says with a faint smile, “we may as well do it properly.”

Dervich pulls back the flap of his shirt to reveal a handprint on his chest, over his heart, with a small, seven-pointed star in black tattooed over the middle of the palm. “It’s not a God Gem,” he says gamely, “but it’s pretty close.”


>”Why was I not informed of this?”
>”Are you okay?”
>”You have powers now?”
>”What’s consecrated?”
>Writein

>>35741112
>”You have powers now?”
>”What’s consecrated?”

>>35741154
>>”You have powers now?”
>>”What’s consecrated?”
ditto

You gape at your former Corporal. “You have powers now?”

He slowly nods, fighting back pain from his tattooing. “I guess… they’ll turn on slowly, Lord Haret says.”

The deserted room echoes with his labored breathing as he accepts a package from Haret. “Go and change, my son, for your new life befits a new uniform.” The Auxilia vet nods and accepts the package.

“Wait, what’s consecration?” you ask, feeling sandbagged.

Haret explains as Dervich pulls his new uniform out and wobbles off. “Consecration, in the old days, was a form of alert, as much as anything,” he says. “It allowed Heralds to know where their Shieldbearers were. Not down to the yard, as it were, but direction and rough distance.” He looks over at you with a speculative glance. “It wouldn’t work now. Now, he’s merely been endowed with some very small versions of the same powers you enjoy – the better to work in your absence. He’s not tapped the Well, but… he’s a clever lad. He will, I’m sure,” Haret muses. “To be more precise, though, the Consecration will allow him to assist you, and grant him a measure of your connection to us. A very, very slight one. You’ll be able to beckon him through the Gem, and nothing more.”

You glance at the ragged mark on Dervich’s old shirt. “It’s a summoning method?” you ask. “Is that… did he know? That’s awfully invasive…”

The grey-eyed demigod smiles again. “He was eager to accept. I think the lad feels alone. Besides, he earned our respect when he aided you in battle, and protected your ghost. Maybe he didn’t come talk to you out of fear, but he rarely left your body’s side before we began our restoration.” He shakes his head. “His powers will be miniscule, compared to yours, but you should feel confident leaving him charge of any reasonable task.”


>”But will he have a full-body brand, like mine?”
>”Without a Gem?”
>”Is his new uniform enchanted too?”
>writein

>>35741313

>”But will he have a full-body brand, like mine?”

Just because your husband doesn’t find your brand repulsive, that doesn’t mean Dervich will be able to get about with one. “Will his brand cover his whole body, like mine?” you ask.

“No, no, just his chest where I performed the ritual.” Haret looks back as Dervich approaches. “Ah. Good. Here, my son, your armor,” he says, and another package appears on the bed. “I suspect you’ll not want to wear it now.”

“No, thank you, sir,” Dervich says. He looks much better, but he sounds utterly exhausted. “Uh, actually… I need to move. I’ve rented a place in the workers’ district, and I’ve swept it of traps as best I can, so…”

“Of course,” Haret says politely. “I’ll be in touch. Keep our champion safe, my son.”

Dervich salutes. “I shall, Father.”

Haret vanishes. Dervich lets out a long sigh and nearly crumples on to the bed. “Ow.”

You’re at his side in a moment. “Al, what happened?” you demand. Real worry fills your voice as he groans and puts his hand over the tattoo.

“He touched my skin, it hurt a lot, I blacked out, and when I woke up, I felt different,” Dervich says. He moans and clasps his hand over his heart. “The pain’s fading, but… wow.” He looks at his other hand and slowly flexes it. “I think… do you have powers over other people?”

“A few, yeah,” you tell him. “Why?”

“I think… I think I can copy them,” he says. He lifts his hand and points, but nothing happens to the ceiling above. “Hmm. I should go practice… after I rest.”

You shift your weight and reach to grab his armor. “Need help moving?”

“I moved my stuff yesterday,” he says, sitting up with a grunt. “I’m taking the rest of this day off.” He looks up at you. “Unless you need me.”


>”It would mean a lot if you came with me.”
>”What else did you want to do?”
>”I can help you train and prepare for your powers.”
>”Leave a spare uniform here. Trust me.”
>writein

>>35741759
>”Leave a spare uniform here. Trust me.”

He’s hurt, he’s got some plans he doesn’t want to share, and he needs to come to terms with having shared his soul with his deific father. “Stay here, man, or go chill out,” you tell him. “But trust me: you want to leave a spare uniform here. The number of times I’ve had to come get a uniform and weapons…”

He cocks an eyebrow. “Yeah? It happens a lot?”

“A hell of a lot,” you chuckle.

Dervich climbs up and gingerly stretches. “Mmmph. Gonna grab some breakfast and go for a walk, I feel half-dea… I feel awful.”

“Smooth,” you say drily. He flushes.

“Sorry.”

“Forget it.” You slap him on the back as he tries to grab his cloak. “Hey. Haret says you tried to stay with me the whole time I was a ghost.”

“Couldn’t let your body get hurt,” he grunts. “Without you, I’m out of a job.”

You laugh aloud at that. “Pffha! Fuck you, man,” you chuckle. “Just… fuck you. Go get some air. I’ll contact you tomorrow.”


Outside, you pull your hood up and start the walk to Arisa’s house. Luckily, it’s not far.


[Temporary end of thread]


I will run all the way through Sunday night if the thread lives overnight! PLEASE keep it floating!

>>35742059
bump

Sunday night? I gotta wonder if you even do anything else during the weekends.

>>35743571
bump

back!

>>35743571
Sure, but not this weekend.

The walk to Arisa’s place passes quickly, and before you know it, you’re standing outside her manor. You knock on the door, and after a minute or two, Arisa pulls it open.

“Elsa,” she says, a bit coolly.

“Arisa, hello.” You immediately move to apologize. “Before I say anything else, I want to apologize for leaving you holding the bag on Sunday. I was told by the Governor that I had to prepare for a massive mission on Monday morning, and I had to drop everything to prepare.”

“So I hear,” Arisa says, holding the door open for you to enter. “I also hear you were somehow involved in the battle at the Utility Tower.”

“I was,” you tell her. “I nearly died.”

“You did? Oh no, I’m sorry to hear that!” Arisa says, taken aback. “Are you all right?”

“Yes, I’ve recovered,” you assure her. “How did you cover for my rudeness Sunday?”

She sighed. “I just told them all it was an emergency meeting. I didn’t announce that you’d be there. We’re meeting again tomorrow, if you’d like to make it. At the library again, if you wish to attend. I just found something to discuss Sunday.”

You let out a sigh of relief. “I’m so sorry, Arisa.”


>”I’ll be there tomorrow for sure.”
>”I just can’t predict my schedule right now.”
>writein

bump

Audience members, arise. Where's the usual Saturday crowd?

>>35746763
>>”I just can’t predict my schedule right now.”
>>35747012

>>35747012
>>”I’ll be there tomorrow for sure.”

it's 12pm central, people like to sleep in some.

Rolled 2 (1d2)

Of course.

1 for making the meeting no matter what, 2 for only making it if possible.

“I’ll be there if I can, but I can’t predict my schedule now,” you say sadly. “My enemies are leaving the city, and I have to pursue.”

She shrugs, though she’s clearly still embarrassed. “Very well, I understand.”

You cross your arms, looking for a way to shift the topic to something more comfortable. “We did retrieve those lost artifacts, the ones that were stolen from the warehouse. Would you mind terribly if I examine them to see why Forest wanted to steal them?”

“Oh, no, go ahead,” Arisa says. “They weren’t doing me any good in a warehouse anyway.”

There may be a small edge of sarcasm in her voice, but you choose to ignore it. “Well. I need to be heading on, I’m afraid,” you tell her. “I’ll return the artifacts when I’m done studying them. If I can make it tomorrow, I certainly shall.”

“Please do,” Arisa urges you. “Thank you for dropping in.”


>Anything else to do in the city before you go see the artifacts?

>>35749838
Go look at shiny things

The walk back is getting cold – very cold, actually. Winter is well on its way. Fighting outdoors in this will be a lot of no fun, you glumly think to yourself.

The house is locked up tight, so you unlatch the backdoor and walk in, avoiding the fans. Inside the basement, a wooden crate sits by the tunnel door, right where you left it.

After hanging up your coat, you pry the crate open, and look at the items inside


>Examine falchion
>Examine map
>Examine book

>>35750805
>Examine falchion

You heft the sword, running your finger along the flat. “Nice,” you say under your breath. You have a professional appreciation for weapons, being a soldier by trade, and you know a solid piece of steel when you carry one. “Yeah, this is Crusader gear, all right.” You examine the blade in the glowstones’ light, watching the way it scatters. “Hmm. No enchantment,” you observe.


>Observe the book
>Observe the map

>>35751604
>Observe the map

The map is ancient paper, so fragile that you can barely pick it up without it fraying. You gingerly hold it up to the light, afraid to even blow on it. The map is clearly of the coast nearby, with most of the Islands of the Sanctuary and the Geode’s outliers off to the far left. The borders are all wrong – this must be pre-Collapse.

You also note the spots on the map that do have highlights. There’s a few sets of towns with markings you don’t recognize over them. One is about where the old dwarven mine you thought would be Kotrick’s target for escape. The others are scattered around the woods near Clen, which is right where it should be.


Roll 1d100+15

Rolled 77 + 15 (1d100 + 15)

>>35752142

You glare into the paper as you notice something astray. There’s a spot on the map that overlays – precisely – the waterfall in the background of your recollection of the Heavenborn descending to Tarsh, complete with the river behind it. Was it a destination of some sort? Interesting. That’s worth investigating.


First, though, the book. You set down the map and glance at the spine of the book – it’s an old Elf script, though you can read it with effort. The book refers to how many of the individual tribes merged to form the first city made exclusively by elves, called Faekan. It’s apparently not intact, but the book’s final chapter, you notice as you browse the table of contents, says that its location was not precisely defined.

Under that book, there’s two more books, the ones that Soutri stole. One is burned beyond all recognition, the other is intact. The scorched one is about the Spirelings, the intact one is the transcript of the peace conference before the destruction of Solium.


>Try to puzzle out what it all means – ROLL 1d100+14
>Ask Asa
>Read one of the books

Rolled 93 + 14 (1d100 + 14)

>>35752700

>Try to puzzle out what it all means – ROLL 1d100+14

Sorry about leaving you hanging SE, today is super busy :(

File: hugz.png (184 KB, 600x450)

184 KB PNG

I understand, I'm blowing out the gutters with a leaf blower in between posts.

Writing!

You close the books and set the map back in the box, thinking furiously. “All right… a map of Cender… a Crusader blade… a book about ancient elves… a book about Spireling magic weapons… and a book about the pre-Collapse peace conferences. What does it all mean?”

You tilt your head back and close your eyes, thinking furiously. “The Spirelings book… he wanted to research the teleporter. Map… hmm.”

The penny drops.

You stab the Gem. {Sister, the shrine you were going to give us. Where is it, exactly? Can you come show me on a map?} you demand.

Asa appears beside you, looking at you curiously. “Yes, what about it?”

You point at the ancient map. “Here! This spot, here! Is this it?”

Asa examines the faded paper. “Hmmm… yes. South of the city, here? This is it. A temple, a small satellite of Faekan. We dedicated it to the Heavenborn and Mai’te.”

You stand up and grasp her shoulder, staring into her startled eyes. “Is it the spot where the Heavenborn emerged?”

She recoils from your vigor. “Well… yes, it is. That’s part of the reason I want you to care for it. It’s holy ground.”

“And this blade,” you say, raising the weapon. “The falchion. Is it Crusade-era? The time before the Collapse?”

She blinks. “Yes…”

“And this book,” you demand, lifting the tome. “Is this about the conference before the Collapse? Did the conference take place in Faekan?”

Asa shakes her head. “No. It took place…” her voice trails off. “It took place in neutral territory. In… that shrine.”


(con’t)

You stare at each other. She reaches out a hand to take the sword, and you hand it over. “I hope I’m wrong,” she mutters. Asa taps the pommel, and it pops free. She catches the little stone and peers into the hole. “Oh, of course,” she sighs. “It’s empty.”

“What should be in there?” you ask.

She puts the pommel stone back in. “A key. A key, enchanted to open the locks on the doors of the old temples.” She sighs. “Like the one on that map.”


>”So should we expect the conspirators to attack that shrine?”
>”What do they want there?”
>”How did they find out about it?”
>”Then why did they go to the mines?”
>”How did Forest not know?”
>writein

>>35753310
>”What do they want there?”

“Then what do they actually want?” you ask.

She ponders that, slowly running one hand over her chin. It’s an affectation, of course. “I… can’t imagine. There’s some furniture there, and a few pieces of clothing in the guest rooms, but… that’s it.” She sighs. “As far as I know.”

You glance down at the box. “How did Forest not know all this when he stole this stuff?”

“Forest didn’t do it,” Asa says, her voice sagging with recrimination. Not towards you, but herself. “One of those brainwashed assassins he lived with did it, and she didn’t die. We never found out because we never got her soul. And Soutri only had a general idea of Kotrick’s plans, he never knew which one Kotrick was going to actually follow.” She tsks. “We got careless. Again. I can only imagine how frustrating this is for you.”


>Take these items back to Roland
>Ask about the shrine
>Ask something else (what?)
>writein

>>35753533
>Ask about the shrine
Must be important somehow. Anything she knows would be helpful. Afterwards
>Take these items back to Roland
Maybe we can ask Roland/Arisa if they know anything.

You look away. “We’re all scrambling. None of us are purpose-built.” You scoop up the items and drop them back into the crate, as carefully as you can. The map and the burned book are very fragile. “I should get all this back to Roland.”

Asa holds up one hand. “Not the blade. Keep that here. The rest, yes.”

You look up at her, curious. “Not the blade?”

“No. Keep that here.” Asa runs one hand along the weapon, looking a bit wistful. “We’ll need that key, and the blade is the place to hide it. The sword belonged to the guards at the temple.”

“Oh.” You pull the sword back out and rest it on the floor. “All right. The books and map, I can take. I don’t have anything else on my list of things to do today, actually.”

She nods. “Very well. How are things here?”

>”I talked it all out with Jerome.”
>”It’s rough.”
>”We’re not both really stable yet, but we’re better.”
>”Not really something I want to discuss.”
>writein

>>35754120
>”We’re not both really stable yet, but we’re better.”

“Better.” The box creaks as you insert the top flap. “We talked. It’s not good, but it’s better.”

Asa folds her hands at her waist. “I see.” She lets out a little sigh of frustration. “Elsa. I offered you that shrine as a home, at least in part, because I don’t want you to be subjected to the stresses of being the last Herald in the world’s most densely populated city. Every crisis dumped on your doorstep, people seeking to hire or kill you.” You look over at her as you fasten the crate to see her looking dolefully down at you. “The shrine was a large gift, and I think I made Jerome feel guilty when he said he didn’t want it,” she admits, “if I know him.” She rests her hand on your shoulder as you rock back on your haunches. “If he truly refuses it, so be it. But the fractures in your relationship are my fault, directly or otherwise.” She raises her other hand to forestall your reflexive dismissal. “Even the ambush in the forest was caused by us not tracking the ancient weapons well enough.”

“After three thousand years, that’s not your fault,” you tell her.

“Nevertheless,” she says firmly. “Jerome is overwhelmed, I’m overwhelmed, you’re doing a good job pretending you’re not overwhelmed.” She closes her free hand, then opens it to reveal a little glass square. “Here. Something I want you to give him.”

You take it, curious, and it lights up when it touches your palm. The room fills with little fluttering shards of light, and you nearly drop the glass. “Whoa! What is this?”


(con’t)

“A Spireling viewing crystal,” she says. “I found it in that shipwreck where I got the parts for your armor. It’s just a little optical toy. I thought he might like it.”

The flakes of light flit around like insects, colliding to form new ones, breaking apart into equal-size chunks. It’s mesmerizing. “Wow, this is amazing,” you murmur. “Thanks, he’ll love it. How long does it last?”

“Two hours, then it needs to be left in the sun to recharge,” she says. “Enjoy.”
>Go return the items
>You can also do that tomorrow when you see Roland at the meeting, since you will be able to attend (you finished all daily tasks early enough to free tomorrow’s schedule)
>writein

File: ElsaMuck2.png (26 KB, 792x612)

26 KB PNG

Back from dinner and ready to roll.

I hate how fast the board is now.

>>35754629
>>Go return the items

You secure the small chip in your pocket, and feel it clink against something in there. “Hmm? Oh, the disc,” you say, extracting the flat gold circle and the metal chip that Haret and Kelscik gave you. “I can’t figure out what to do with this thing,” you say. “It doesn’t seem to work for me.”

Asa cocks her head. “Ah… perhaps Alan could make better use of it? It’s attuned to human souls. Now that he has a fraction of your power, you could give it to him.”

“I’ll think on it.” You put the disc away and heft the box. “All right. I’m off to the warehouse.”

“Very well. I will speak to you soon.” Asa vanishes.

You heft the box into the tunnel and latch the door behind you. Making your way back to the castle and out into the parade ground, you’re struck by how empty it is. Dietrich and the King must really be pouring everything they have on the southern front.

The roads outside are quiet too, and there’s little traffic, which suits you fine, burdened as you are. You walk laboriously to the warehouse and juggle box as you unlock the door.


(con’t)

Roland springs to his feet as he hears you enter, but immediately relaxes as he sees you. “Herald Ledren!” he says, relieved. “It’s you. Are you all right? We all heard nasty rumors about you in that fight by the Tower.”

“I’m fine, Roland, how are you?” you ask. “Are you feeling better?”

He places his hand on his chest. “As good as new, madam, thank you,” he says. “I owe you my life, twice over.”

“Nonsense.” You deposit the crate. “Here are the items that Cordel Keen and Everett Soutri stole from you.”

“You found them?” Roland asks, delighted. “Oh, wonderful!”

“All save the sword, which Lady Asa and I wish to examine,” you inform him. “How are the repairs coming?” you inquire, glancing up at the ceiling.

“It’s expensive, but we had the budget for it, since Lady Asa got it started for us,” Roland says reverently.

>”Did you decide not to tell the other Circle members what I am?”
>”Will you be there tomorrow?”
>”Do you have any other Crusades-era elf gear I can examine?”
>writein

>>35758169
>>”Will you be there tomorrow?”

You stretch and roll your shoulders. “Woof. That box was heavy.” You crack the crate back open and show him the books. “Here you are, sir.”

He lifts the damaged book. “Oh… good thing this was just the transcript and not the final version,” he says. “All right, I’ll re-sort these. Thank you, your Eminence.”

You recall Arisa’s words about the Friday meeting. “Will you be there tomorrow?”

“At Arisa’s meeting at the library?” Roland asks. “Oh, yes. I was expecting you to reveal yourself Sunday, to be honest.”

You shrug awkwardly. “I couldn’t. Sorry. I probably will tomorrow.”

His voice takes on a morose edge. “I hope so, my Lady,” he says. “The Circle needs hope, and your appearance would put a swift end to the leadership problems we’ve been having. Nothing specific, but the Circle is… restless. You know.”

“I do,” you assure him. “I’ve seen what Mister Kendal is doing.”

Roland closes the crate. “All right, then. Thank you for returning these items, you Eminence. I look forward to seeing you tomorrow.”

“Likewise, sir.” You bow out, and leave him to his sorting.


>You’re actually through your backlog of things to do before tomorrow’s meeting.

>What else do you want to do?

>Just go to the garden and relax for a while
>Go to the market and buy something (what?)
>Go speak to one of the untapped sources of military power in the city (like a Guild, perhaps)
>writein

>Just go have dinner and turn in early

>>35758666
>>Just go to the garden and relax for a while

Sorry about the intermittent posting, there's a lightning storm near my house.

Outside, the chilly winds tug at your cheeks, so you raise your hood and start walking. You’re not busy tonight, and it’s time to go think for a while.

Your feet carry you through the throngs of people, until you find yourself in front of the small gardens tucked in behind your former school. You smile wistfully at the sight of the place – you spent many years in that garden, playing and exercising, doing outdoor classes and learning your trade skills. You chose the military life, but still…

A few kids run past as the school lets out. You step aside, into the garden proper, where a few children are working on their projects in the sheltered area, and a teacher or two is talking to a parent group here and there.

You walk into the flower area, which you know is maintained by the students, and crouch by one patch. The little bush you planted for your project is gone, but the tiny plot has other things in it now. “Time moves on,” you say to yourself.

A tiny child – barely seven – walks by, hands in his pockets. He stops when he sees you. “Hey, are you waiting for Cynthia?” he asks.

You glance back over your shoulder. “Pardon?”

He looks at you funny. “Cynthia. You’re not Cynthia’s mom?”

“No, just passing through,” you tell him. “Looking for the plant I put here when I was ten.”

“Oh.” His eyes suddenly bug out. “Wait, are you the Herald?”

>”Yes.”
>Quick escape
>”Nope.”
>Writein

>>35760223
>>”Yes.”

“Oh wow!” he says, drawing the eyes of the people around. “Are you really? What is it like?”

You can’t help but smile. He’s not afraid, angry, or overawed, just a child in front of a divine conduit. “Well, it has its scary parts, but it’s fun.”

He stares. “What do you get to do? Do you get to read minds and stuff?”

“Hah, no, I can’t read minds,” you chuckle. You can control them, but, well, best not scare the lad. “I can see souls, I can talk to people with more success… that sort of stuff.” And incinerate them, but again, that’s not a part he needs to see. “Did you want to ask me something?”

He just looks around, then stomps his foot. “I want to, but now I can’t think of anything!”

You giggle and kneel next to him. “So what’s your name?”

The little human boy’s about as pale as snow. “I’m Aaron,” he says. A few other kids are wandering over. “What’s your name?”

“Elsa. Nice to meet you,” you say warmly, shaking his hand. “What do you want to be when you grow up?”

“I want to be a Herald too!” he says excitedly.

You tsk. “Sorry, Aaron, there aren’t going to be any more of those. I’m the last one. What’s number two on your list?”

He slumps. “Well… I guess it would be cool to join the Army,” he says. “Or maybe a Guild? I dunno, I want to fight, like my dad.”


(con’t)

“Your dad’s in the Army?” you ask. A little crowd of kids is slowly forming around you, while the teachers hang back, looking awe-struck.

“Yeah, he’s in the cavalry, I think,” the boy says. “I haven’t seen him in a long time.”

You nod in sympathy. “That’s the hard part,” you tell him. “Being away from home. I bet he’d like it if you write him letters.”

“I write every month to tell him stuff,” he says modestly.

“I’m sure he enjoys that.” You look up as the clouds drift in front of the sun.

He spots your brand. “Um, do you have… is that a tattoo?” he asks.


>Show him the brand to see how kids react
>”Yes.”
>writein

>>35761167
>”Yes. It's a specific brand all Heralds get.”

You nod. “It’s a brand, actually. A divine stamp. It marks me out as Asa’s servant. All the old Heralds had them too.”

“Wow. Does it do anything?” he asks.

“You’re not afraid to ask questions, are you?” you chuckle.

He blanches. “Should I stop?”

“No, it’s fine.” You run your hand over the brand across your forehead. “It lets me speak to Asa. She can speak back.”

“Wow.” He shuffles his feet a bit. “Does it hurt?”

“I know it looks like it should, but it doesn’t.” You tap the skin over your eye. “It’s just like a tattoo, only without ink. It’s not a literal burn scar.”

“I had one of those,” he says. “I fell on the oven when I was a kid. I don’t remember it.”

“Ouch,” you sympathize. “Yeah, scars are annoying to get. I got attacked by a wolf when I was a teenager. It ran away when it saw my friends coming. Word of advice: when you’re out in the woods, don’t walk around with a bacon sandwich in your pocket.”

He looks ill for a moment. “Uh, okay.”

The rest of the crowd seems to lose their reluctance to approach as they see you speaking casually with Aaron. You stand up again and pull your hood back, letting them see the tiara and Gem. “Hello, everybody,” you say as the teachers slowly approach. “Sorry if I’m interrupting something.”

“No, it’s fine,” a teacher manages, bowing low as much to hide her shock as to pay respect. “Is everything alright, your Eminence?”

Aaron suddenly starts. “Oh no, was I supposed to be calling you a title?”

>”Forget it, you didn’t know.”
>”Yes, but I don’t care.”
>writein

>>35762224
>”Yes, but I don’t care.”

“Yes, but I don’t care,” you assure him. Out of curiosity, you activate Through the Eyes of Ghosts, and see tiny tendrils of your soul’s flickering golden light reach out and touch the souls of all the elves in the crowd, and brush off of the humans. “I’m just here to see the plant I put here. It’s gone, but I’m not surprised. I turn twenty five in a few weeks, I wasn’t expecting it to still be here.”

“Oh, are you one of our students?” the teacher asks. You don’t recognize her, but she’s quite young.

“I was.” You look down to see a truly tiny child – maybe three – waddle up to you and stare. “Hi there.”

“So sorry, she’s just curious,” the teacher says, blushing. “Cynthia’s mother is late.”

“Ah.” You squat down and make eye contact with the infant. “What’s your name?”

She stares at you for a moment, thinking. “Cynfia,” she finally decides.

“My name’s Elsa. Can you say Elsa?” you ask.

“…Elfa?” she tries.

“Close enough. Accurate, I suppose,” you chuckle, standing back up. “Well. This was fun, but I should go.”

“Thanks for coming, your Eminence,” the teacher says, and a few kids echo it. You smile down at Aaron and pull your hood back up, then walk out to the road and melt into the swelling crowd.


That felt good, you decide. Whether it was talking to a commoner, talking to a kid, or just being around people who aren’t afraid, that felt good. You should do that more often.

Your house comes into view around the corner as you enter the final road on your route, and you pause. The crowd out front is having a blazing argument. They’re split into two camps, and they’re all furiously gesticulating. There’s no blood or weapons, but they’re pissed.


>Approach
>Stealth up and listen
>Go the long way and let other people care about it
>writein

>>35762566
>>Go the long way and let other people care about it

>>35762566
>Approach

We should probably find out if they're gonna cause trouble in our neighborhood

Rolled 1 (1d2)

Naturally.

Flipping a coin.

1 is get close, 2 is go around.

You force back a groan. Of course this is happening to you.

You pull your hood back and start walking purposefully towards the crowd. You make it only a few feet before they spot you. Immediately, a group starts surging in your direction, until you very deliberately put a hand on the pommel of your sword. The crowd slows, evidently surprised, and you get close enough to be heard. “Is there a problem, citizens?” you ask, feeling Asa’s power surge through your voice.

A babble of voices replies, until one voice cuts over the rest. “They want to go inside!” an angry man yells.

You narrow your eyes. “I beg your pardon?”

He elbows his way closer. “They wanted to go inside your house, your Eminence!”

“No, we just wanted to leave something! An offering!” another yells, and the crowd dissolves into yelling again.


>”I don’t accept offerings either way.”
>”Offerings to whom? I don’t answer prayers.”
>”All of you can back up and calm down.”
>”I don’t need an ad hoc defender or supplicants!”
>Just throw some elbow strikes to get to your door
>Use a power
>writein

>>35763126
>"Thanks for the thoughts, but I can't accept offerings, as it would be easy for one of my enemies to leave me something lethal. And I'm afraid entry to my house is completely out of the question."

>>35763126
>>writein
"I don't accept or deserve offerings. I'm just doing a job. I appreciate the gesture, but it's not necessary. And for those of you trying to protect my home, also not necessary. It's protected a by ward already. But thank you for the gesture as well."

You partially draw the blade, which instantly freezes the argument. You slowly resheathe it, and draw in a deep breath. "Thanks for the thoughts, but I can't accept offerings, as it would be easy for one of my enemies to leave me something lethal. And I'm afraid entry to my house is completely out of the question." You sweep the crowd with your sight, trying not to seem too emotional. "I don't accept or deserve offerings. I'm just doing a job. And for those of you trying to protect my home, also not necessary. It's protected a by ward already. But, thank you for the gesture, as well."

The crowd mumbles a bit, but nobody seems to really protest. You grab your mail and head inside as fast as decorum permits.

Jerome is already sitting in front of the fire, sipping something. “Hey. Your fans are a bit rowdy,” he says.

“No kidding,” you sigh. “The ones outside, anyway. Ran into some people at my old school on the way back, they were much nicer. Maybe because they’re children.”

Jerome snorts. You drop your cloak across a chair back and snuggle down beside your husband. “How was your day?”

“Busy,” he says. “They’re laying off a lot of guys. With all the troops in the south, there’s nothing to do.”

“Ouch. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I think they’re trying not to fire me, since I was placed there by the King, and all,” he says drily.

[Temporary end of thread]

I shall return tomorrow morning!

bumpo

>>35764371
bump

>>35766671
bump

Thanks kindly!

You settle into the bed and pull up the sheets, wondering about the day. “I forgot to go and see Arisa on Sunday, so I’m doing it tomorrow,” you tell Jerome.

“Yeah?” he asks. “What do you want to do?”

You drape an arm across his chest as he lies down next to you. “Gonna reveal my existence to the group. Let them know how helpful they are.”

“Are they?”

“Sure. Their warehouse, their propaganda.” You close your eyes and gently kiss his shoulder. “Okay. Good night.”

“Night.”


Roll 1d100 for the Dream Table

>collapse coofsp
Captcha wants more nightmares.

Rolled 15 (1d100)

Rolling...

Very well!

Rolled 16 (1d100)

>>35769350

As always with the Dream Table, only the first roll counts. It's combat and perception rolls that take as many as I get.

You are Hill-climber. You are the son of the Dark Elves, and Mai’te’s Herald.

You stand atop the collapsed building that once crowned the ridge near your home, staring out at the plains. Your vanquished enemy is routed. Victory is yours.

You smile your satisfaction into the blazing sun. Yes, victory is sweet.

No more goblin bandits. No more raids and sleeping with a knife under your pillow. No more worrying, staring at the exits to your caves in fear. No more waking up to butchered livestock and scrawled warnings.

You wave your vision spell away and look down below. The healers and shamans are treating the wounded and seeing to the burial of the dead. The few goblin survivors you captured are being hanged as you speak, tastefully out of sight of the civilians.

It worked. You smile and sit down on the rubble of the watchtower you’d packed with those human bombs you’d bought with blood and labor. The goblins had fallen for it, hook, line, and sinker, to borrow a Sea Tribe saying. There’d be retribution, someday, for certain, but for now, you won.

The air splits. Everybody below gasps and starts running, if they can. You leap to your feet and run to the edge of the ridge. In the middle of the cluster of people, an Avatar is waving its arms, and bellowing, but it’s not one of yours. It’s Shranuk, the male demigod of the goblins.

“You had the chance to end this!” it yells. You don’t bother to listen to the rest. You slap your hand against your forehead.

`Mother! A goblin demigod’s Avatar is in our camp!`

=Is it attacking?= Mai’te asks urgently.

`Er, no, just threatening us…`

A second Avatar appears beside the first. It’s Ghalad, and he immediately steps in front of the raving Shranuk. “Be still, you fool!” he roars. “You lost! Leave my people be!”


(con’t)

“Yes, be gone!” Asa yells, joining her brother. “Your lifestyle harms others, we’ve no reason to permit it! Be gone, at once!”

“They cheated!” Shranuk bellows. “They used human bombs!”

“And your children died for it,” Ghalad snarls. “What do I care? Be gone!”

Shranuk’s image flickers as something in the Geode draws his attention away, then he spits on the ground on vanishes.

You race down the ridge, as fast as you can, and pull up short in front of Ghalad, who is kneeling beside a crippled guard and speaking to him in low tones. “Brother!”

Ghalad looks up at you. “Ah. My brother, well done. I’m sorry that the goblins’ duplicity harmed you so. Nob is a foul leader.”

“I would never have guessed,” you grumble. Asa slips her arms around yoru midsection for a mischievous hug.

“Brother, well done,” she says. “So few harmed. We’re proud.”

You smile at her over your shoulder. “Thanks, Asa.”

“We should leave you to rebuild, brother, but do kiss your wife for me,” Ghalad says. “And take care. The goblins won’t take this sitting down.”

You scoff. “Let them come. I used less than a quarter of those bombs. They try this again, I’ll pick one of their camps at random and blow it to hell.”

Ghalad and Asa both look a bit uncomfortable. As they vanish, you turn away and put it from your mind, but as you lie in bed that evening, you can’t help but wonder why.

_________

You are Elsa Ledren, and you have a show to put on.


>Wear full Heraldic uniform
>Wear the clothes you wore as a common Circle member
>Wear armor (Which set? Shadow? Auxilia? Heraldic?)

>>35770390
>Wear full Heraldic uniform

>>35770501
This. Go in stylin'.

Very well, writing. I'm doing chores - check back in half an hour or so.

You let that dream play through your mind as you dress in your full Heraldic gear. You cleaned it last night, and though you’re not wearing the armor, you’re going to wear the full uniform and tiara. And, just because you should not go unarmed, you’re visibly displaying a Shadow sword, with your dagger at your back, in the most ornate scabbards you can find. You have an audience, after all.

Jerome watches you strap on your gear and rest the tiara on your head. “You sure you’ll be okay?” he asks. “I want you to be safe out there.”

You nod and clasp your cloak. “I’ll be fine, sweetheart. I’ve got my shield, I’ve got my weapons.”

“What about Dervich?” he asks. “How will you reach him?”

“I can summon him through his new powers,” you tell him. “Here, watch.” You rest your hand on your Gem and think. {Alan, meet me at the library in the noble district, please.}

Silence. After a moment, Asa speaks. [Er, Elsa, he can’t hear you. All he can sense is that you’ve called him.]

{Oh. Then what use is it?}

[He can meet you somewhere. You should arrange a rendezvous point somewhere. Haret tells me he’s indisposed at the moment, but he’ll be at the library in an few hours.]

{Thanks.} You look up at Jerome. “Okay, it doesn’t work the way I thought it would, but he’ll be there.”

“All right.” Jerome walks up to hug you, but bumps into the shield.

You hastily remove the tiara and hug him. “Hey, sorry,” you say sheepishly. “I’ll be home tonight. The meeting actually isn’t until four, so I’ll just do everything else I need done first.”

“Okay.” Jerome squeezes his arms across your back for an extra moment. “Love you.”


>Go straight to Arisa’s house to rehearse
>Go try to track down Dervich yourself
>Go survey the site and plan for the meeting
>Go train while you have several spare hours
>Go to the markets and either buy things or answer public questions
>writein

>Go train while you have several spare hours

You duck down into the tunnels and make your way to the barracks, where you hope to get some training in. The place is empty aside from a few Guards who are using the facility to spar – they usually have their own barracks. In fact, you think glumly, aside from the city and farm Guards, there’s probably not more than a few hundred soldiers out of the whole strength of the Legion, Auxilia, Shadows, and Army that are usually stationed here.

The sparring room has a few Guards in it, and you amuse yourself by watching their techniques for a while. The Guards focus more on endurance and close-in brawling, which makes some sense, given their city-fighting milieu. The Skirmishers focused more on ranged battle and leverage fighting, with spears and slings.

The two Guards separate and bow out as a judge calls time. He turns around to call the next pair when he sees you. He immediately straightens up and salutes. “Officer present, attenSHUN!”

You raise both hands as the Guards snap to. “Whoa, gents, I’m just here to work out. And I’m a Sergeant. Not an officer in sight.”

The judge nods as the rest relax. “Aye, Sergeant. Did you want to participate?”

>”No, thanks. Just here to meditate and train.”
>”Sure. Is there a prize?”
>writein

>>35771735
>”Sure. Is there a prize?”

You smirk at the room full of Guards. “Sure. Is there a prize?”

The judge hesitates, but a few of the others laugh, so he plays along. “Well, yeah. A four-day pass.”

You shake your head. “Well, I’m not actually enlisted any more, I think, except maybe some thing on paper about me being in the logistics office. I’m game anyway, though. The runner-up can have it if I win.”

“All right,” the judge says. “Pick a partner, then get entered as a duo. Rotating matches. Winner is the first team to engage four other teams and win. First blood, nobody loses combat effectiveness.”

“Absolutely. Put me in at the end while I wait for my partner,” you say. A devilish plan is beginning to emerge. As the other teams get back to sparring, you tap the Gem again. {Hey, Al, I’m at the barracks. I know he can’t hear me, Asa, but maybe he’ll figure it out,} you add, pre-empting her comments.

Two more teams fight before, to your relief, Dervich arrives, panting. “Sorry, sorry,” he says, skidding to a halt next to you. “I wasn’t at home, and I forgot that Haret told me we needed to… pick a… what the fuck is this?” he asks, staring at the sparring room.

“Yeah, we should just meet here if I summon you,” you say nonchalantly. “Want to wipe the floor with some rookie Guards?”

He looks at you – back at the sparring room, then back at you again. “I was chest-deep in Companions and sweet dreams when you paged me this morning,” he says flatly. You raise an eyebrow. “These are the only circumstances for which your interrupting me can be forgiven,” he finishes. “Big Al needs his sexytime. Okay, boss?”

“I understand,” you chuckle. “Get that uniform back off and get some sparring gear on.”


(con’t)

Ten minutes later, your uniform and tiara are in your locker, you and Dervich are wrapped and stretched, and it’s your turn.

You square off against a pair of Guard troopers who look like they’ve been through the grinder already. “One win for them,” the Judge says. “You’re in the well, Sergeant. No eye gouges or groin pulls. I see blood, it’s over.”

“No problem,” you say breezily.


>Start in fast and brutal, keep them from analyzing your moves
>Dance back and watch them fight
>Let Dervich take point
>writein

>Start in fast and brutal, keep them from analyzing your moves

>>35771928
>Start in fast and brutal, keep them from analyzing your moves

No fucking around.

The second the judge drops his hand, you spring forward, driving a knee strike into your opponent’s leg. He yelps and jumps back, but he’s already reacting, sweeping low to drive you back. You fold around his leg and grab his knee for leverage, suffering a bruising blow across the stomach from the flat of his leg, but he’s on his ass a moment later, and you have your knees on his shoulders.

Dervich took your lead, diverting his opponent’s fast strike and skipping aside. He’s taking a few hits, but he’s standing, and more importantly, his opponent’s back is to you. You roll backwards, keeping your legs locked on your opponent’s shoulders, and grab the other guy’s legs. He tries to jump free, but he stumbles, and three shots to the ribs by Dervich puts him down.

“TIME!” the judge bellows. You help the other guy up and shake his hand as the Judge approaches. “Nice improv, Sergeant,” he says. “Your next match is in ten minutes.”


(con’t)

You and Dervich go grab towels and dry off as the next two fight. “Good workout, smacking the young’uns into shape,” Dervich says under his breath. “How’ve you been? Feeling all better?”

“Yep,” you say, wiping your fingers on your tank top. He’s shed his shirt entirely, and the raw mark on his chest stands out strongly. “How about you? Does that hurt?”

He shakes his head. “Nope. When you were summoning me, I felt a little twinge of sensation, but it didn’t hurt. Kinda felt like waking up, like slowly, not because the DI is screeching.”

“Sorry if I was cockblocking you, before,” you add.

He waves it off. “I was the only one awake. Good thing I paid in advance.”

“How’s your new place?” you ask as you grab some water and splash it on your sweaty hair.

“Tiny, but it’s cheap and I know the super,” he says. “Nice lady. There’s a market down the road, it’s got direct sewer lines… good place to set up while I get all this figured out,” he says, jerking a thumb at the brand over his heart.

>Ask something else (what)
>Just go fight

>>35772489
How's it been going as a Paladin?

“So how’s Paladinhood?” you ask as you watch the other spar. “Spooky, easy, what?”

“Well so far all I’ve done is fight, sleep, and move my stuff, so… I guess it’s easy,” he says with a shrug. “It is a little weird, being under a divine lens, but… I’m alright. They don’t ask much of me, really, compared to the Legion,” he snorts.

The Judge waves you over. The two of you settle into stances in the middle as another group walks in. They’re even younger, and they look pretty bloodied. “No wins for group one, one win for group two,” he announces.


>Same as before
>Change it up and let them move first

>>35772807
>Same as before

The judge drops his hand. The other guys spring forward, though one of them is visibly slower than the other. You lunge backwards and immediately plant your leg, dropping low and ramming your shoulder forward as if you were wearing your pauldron. He catches it in the stomach and nearly retches, stumbling away.

Dervich isn’t so lucky. He takes a few good ones to the ribs and recoils. You rise cautiously as your opponent manages to get his guard up, then swings a kick at you. You take it on the calf and grunt from the pain, but it’s not much of an opening, and he doesn’t advance.

Roll 1d100+6 for Evasion

Rolled 93 + 6 (1d100 + 6)

>>35773922
Aw damn, I thought these guys were scrubs from the no wins.

>>35774197
They are. Dervich slipped off-camera.

Your glance back, wondering if Dervich needs your help, and your opponent lunges, trying to take advantage of the distraction.

>99

It doesn’t work. You twist around his punch and drive a retaliatory elbow strike into his shoulder, popping his arm out of socket. He yelps and stumbles back, tapping the wall as he does.

“TIME!” the judge shouts. He glares at you as you shake the rookie’s free hand. “Bit too hard there, Herald, we need our guys intact.”

“Sorry,” you say sheepishly. “Didn’t think I hit him that hard.” You turn back to your opponent and bow. “I apologize.”

“Whatever,” he mumbles, nursing the spot where the platoon’s healer mage is fixing the joint. It suddenly lurches back in with a sickening *pop,* and half the room winces. “Ow.”

“My bad,” you say, and quickly duck out.

You glance at the wall clock as you do. It’s not even noon, plenty of time.

“Pretty rough of you there, Elsa,” Dervich teases through a wince. He favors his ribs as he steps out to grab his towel. “Hmph. Guess you only get healed if you tap out.”

“Sure.” You hop up on a bannister and sip your water. “You okay?”

“I’m fine.” He draws from his own and splashes some on his face. “So… how are you sleeping? I think I slept four hours last night, even though I was dead tired. Woke up feeling like new.”


(con’t)

You nod knowingly. “One of our powers is reduced need for rest. I sleep one, two hours per night.”

He looks relieved. “Oh, good.” Then he hesitates. “Uh, do you have vivid dreams?”

“Yes.” You sigh, recalling how alien they can be. “A lot. Not every night.”

Dervich grinds his hands into his eyes. “They seemed to come and go… I was swimming back and forth between them.”

“Not like that for me. For me, they’re as vivid and real as life,” you say. “Maybe it’s different for humans.”

“Maybe.”

The two of you fall silent until it’s your match again. Two more new guys step into the ring – both elves, and both looking pretty woozy. “Maybe five matches is a bit much,” you say to the judge.

“Yeah, maybe,” he says. “Maybe we’ll just do last team standing if it gets to that.”


>More blitzing
>Hold back and conserve strength

>>35774576
>Hold back and conserve strength

>Hold back and conserve strength
Besides, the third group expects a blitz now that they've seen it from us twice already. Let's play casual this match.

You step back and let both of your opponents take the advance, Dervich following your lead like the good soldier he is. Interestingly, both follow you. You take another step back and put up your guard, and the nearest one advances, swinging low. You side-step and maneuver to put him between you and Dervich, but the second one peels off to flank. Dervich starts in on that one, slamming his open palm against that guy’s face and simply pushing him back. Your guy advances again, then you drift in close as he moves. As he tries for a reaction shot, you ram your knee into his stomach, and he folds, but rallies at once, getting a few good hits in on your chest.

Dervich is handling his guy, blocking with his leg and returning kick for kick. Neither team can really pull ahead.


Roll 1d100+6 for Evasion

>>35774576
Can we go beat on bad guys yet?

>>35775272

You can always duck out and go do some work before the meeting. I only put this here because you completely ran out of items on the to-do list. You can disengage and go try to recruit new allies at any time.

Rolled 64 + 6 (1d100 + 6)

>>35775260


>>35775272
new recruits are bad guys anon
they get gud with experience

Rolled 92 + 6 (1d100 + 6)

>>35775260
rolling

You step back and let both of your opponents take the advance, Dervich following your lead like the good soldier he is. Interestingly, both follow you. You take another step back and put up your guard, and the nearest one advances, swinging low. You side-step and maneuver to put him between you and Dervich, but the second one peels off to flank. Dervich starts in on that one, slamming his open palm against that guy’s face and simply pushing him back. Your guy advances again, then you drift in close as he moves. As he tries for a reaction shot, you ram your knee into his stomach, and he folds, but rallies at once, getting a few good hits in on your chest.

Dervich is handling his guy, blocking with his leg and returning kick for kick. Neither team can really pull ahead.


Roll 1d100+6 for Evasion

Your opponent tries to get a cheap shot under your guard when your attention is turned, but apparently these Guard guys don’t quite grasp that a Skirmisher is trained to track their teammates at all times. You let him swing, then roll it off your flank and grasp his arm under yours. Suddenly immobile, he tries to pull back, but all he manages to do is topple as you sweep his legs and let go of his arm.

Dervich’s guy tries to back up and stumbles over his partner, and they both go down in a heap.

“TIME!” the judge says. “Alright, nicely done, folks.”

You shake hands and disengage, glancing up at the clock. It’s about 1230. Your meeting is at 1600, and you need to get cleaned and dressed.


>Keep sparring
>Go to the library early and set up
>Go do something else (what)

>Go do something else
Get cleaned up and dressed for the meeting. Then
>Go to the library early and set up
Because it won't take you 5:30 to clean and change.

You raise your hand to catch the judge’s eye. “Sorry, my friend, but we have places to be.”

“Sure. Thanks for participating, your Eminence,” he says.


Below, you scrub off the soapy water and throw your gear back on. You meet Dervich waiting outside the changing room of the barracks showers and slip your tiara into place. “All right, are we good to go?” you ask.

“Should be. What else do we need to do?” he asks.

“Get there early and set up,” you tell him. “And grab some lunch en route.”

“Works for me,” Dervich says. All he’s carrying is his spear, but he’s got it decorated with Auxilia totems at the base. You have your sword and dagger, which is probably fine, all you’re doing is going to the library.


(con’t)

The cold, empty streets outside look like they’re straight out of a painting, so dim and unpleasant is it under the thick clouds. It’s not raining, but it will be.

The little café down the street welcomes you, by contrast, with warm coffee and the tail end of the lunch special. The two of you eat slowly, taking your time.

“So what do you plan to do when this Circle person announces you?” Dervich asks over his onion soup.

You wipe crumbs away before answering. “Immediate and total honesty. I need these people on my side. More importantly, I need the King on my side. I can get both, here.”

“How do you figure?” he asks.

“The King doesn’t trust them, the Circle is used to being despised,” you explain. “But if I can get them to see that by being of use to me, being trusted by me, they can make their lives easier by association, and help end a threat to the state, we can smooth things over domestically.”

Dervich nods and starts in on his crème brulee. “So do you want to take charge?”


>”No. I want Arisa to take charge, with me there to be friendly support.”
>”Bet your ass.”
>writein

>>35776128

>”No. I want Arisa to take charge, with me there to be friendly support.”

You shake your head. “No, no. Arisa’s undergoing some leadership challenges. We’re here to support her as much as she is for us.”

“Mmm.” Dervich finishes his dessert in silence. “All right. Let’s go.”


The library’s back gate is shut, but you can see a few people in the stacks, and the reading area in the back is gradually filling. You skate around the crowds and find an isolated spot to wait.


>Do you have any particular speeches you want to make? Please debate while I go have dinner

>>35776674
oh god, public speaking
let's fall back on our divine ability and just throw our support behind Asa, unless someone has a better idea.

Okay, so, nobody actually wants to discuss this.

Alright, I'll improvise.

>>35777607
Yeah sorry. All I've ever wanted to do with the circle is reinforce Arisa's leadership, since she's already cooperative.

Also meant to say Arisa instead of Asa in >>35776790

You don’t wait so terribly long before you see Arisa walk past your stack. You disengage from the pocket in the rows of books and walk up behind her. “Arisa?” you ask quietly.

“Elsa!” She turns and hastily looks around you. “You’re here early. How do you want to do this?”

Having been unable to come up with a good plan, you just shrug. “I think that I will remain at the back of the assembly, just listening. When you think it’s time to act, speak my name, and I’ll walk up.” You gesture to your side. “This is Paladin Alan Dervich, my aide. He’ll be providing some discreet security.”

“All right,” she says. “We start in ten minutes.”


You retreat to the back of the library and wait for eleven minutes, just to be safe. When that time has all passed, you sneak over to the reading area, where sure enough, the group is assembling. Arisa is already speaking, and reading a passage from one of the holy texts – thank goodness, it’s the elf one.

After the opening prayer, she opens the floor to new business. One or two people announce their new membership or declare some event, and just when Arisa starts to look hopeful, the elf you’d identified as Oromer Kendal stands. “Priestess, may I introduce a new motion?” he asks.

Arisa visibly sags. “Very well, Oromer. Though I caution you that if you’re going to propose opening a new chapter, yet again, you’ll get no farther than the last two times.”

“No, I mean to ask something else,” he says, miffed.

“Very well.”

Kendal stands to address the room. “My friends, I have been… ah, Roland, good,” he says, as the old guard walks past you and enters the group. “I’ve been addressing the group’s coffers, and I think that it is time to consider opening a new revenue stream to help cover the costs of the damage to the warehouse.”


(con’t)

He waits a second, but nobody takes the bait. “I think it may be time to consider selling off some of the collection, so that we can expand the chapter, as well.”

The group mutters a bit. This apparently isn’t actually a new topic. “Oromer, the warehouse was just attacked by a terrorist,” Roland says. “We’re lucky we still have the collection. I only just got four pieces back today.”

“You did? Excellent. Some of the items in there could be copied, however,” Kendal points out. “The transcripts of the ancient books could be replicated, for instance.”

“And are you volunteering to do the work yourself?” Arisa asks. “That is the kind of scribing that takes months.”

“Or magic,” he counters. “That would be cheaper.”

“Or magic. And what do you mean by ‘expand the chapter?’” Arisa asks pointedly. “Recruit more openly?”

Kendal nods emphatically. “Why not? The city is recovering from the tornado incident, but our group remains unbowed by the chaos. Is it so unreasonable to want that stability to expand?”


>Step in
>Trust Arisa to do this herself
>writein

>>35778284
>Trust Arisa to do this herself

You want to step in and help your friend, but she has you in the wings, and you don’t need to do anything.

Arisa takes a long, deep breath. “Oromer, that’s enough. You should know, everybody here should know by now, that the Circle, for all its piety, is scorned. Spurned. Loathed, pitied even. Expanding it in a time of such tumult will be seen; correctly, I imagine, as a power play. Besides,” she says, cutting off his indignation, “there is a higher authority we must consider. Two, in fact. First, the Pantheon, which has explicitly instructed all such congregations to disband to save resources. Second, their officer, the Herald. Are we to disregard her wishes?”

He narrows his eyes. “Has she made them known?”

“Not yet.” She looks directly at you. “Herald Ledren, would you kindly make your wishes known?”

Ah, so she was just putting on a show. You can respect that. Dervich mutters something about chopped liver as you step forward. The eyes of every person in the room lock on you in an instant. So many people gasp that you fleetingly entertain the notion that the ambient pressure dropped. “I would be honored, Priestess,” you say aloud, walking up beside her. “My friends, if I may borrow your attention?”

Well, you have it. Even Kendal is sitting spellbound.


>Focus on the Circle
>Focus on the bigger picture

AND

>Mention Arisa
>Leave her out

(you can use divine abilities here)

>>35778681
>Focus on the bigger picture
>Mention Arisa

Use:
I am the Messenger, and All Shall Hear
Voice of the Divine

>>35778763
Okay.

Messenger is a passive.

>>35778876
Yeah I just wasn't sure if we had left it on after last time, so I mentioned it just to be sure.

You draw deeply on Asa’s powers, and you feel their reassuring energy flood your voice. “I thank you all for coming. I also apologize for my absence, this special Sunday meeting past,” you tell them. “I was called away to strategize for battle against our common enemies.”

You lean forward slightly and spread your arms, taking in the whole group. “My fellow Cenderians, I thank you further for your willingness to keep the faith alive in these trying times. It was an act of horrible cruelty and wanton murder that brought about my ascension, but I act now to prevent more. My existence is a gesture of trust between the Holy Triad and we, their children. The tornado being lifted was another such act, and my trust in Arisa is yet another.”

You beckon Arisa to your side and rest a hand on her shoulder. “Arisa has been burdened by my association, to be sure, and I have called on her often. Covertly, yes, but out of necessity. The enemy we face is an insidious and brutal one, and I have needed secrecy to accomplish my goals.”

Arisa bows her head slightly as you continue. “My friend has made every effort to accommodate even my most unreasonable requests in the name of Clen’s survival. Whereas the people have cowered in fear of Haret’s wrath, she led you all to survey the city, and find spots of trouble. When the King demanded your dissolution, Asa refused it when she saw the depth of your faith. Your piety has impressed even a demigoddess.” The crowd stirs, but not a whisper is spoken. “Roland and his collection of artifacts have also been invaluable in our investigation.” He accepts the praise with a glowing smile.


>Wrap it up
>Actually tell them to do something or not to do something
>Expound on the conspiracy
>writein

>>35779118
>Expound on the conspiracy
Wartime propaganda.

You let Arisa sit, and Roland too, and start to explain. The effects of Asa’s voice are fading, but the audience isn’t going anywhere. Dervich is stalking the stacks, eyes open for trouble. “The conspiracy of which the King spoke is real, and threatens the country,” you tell the group. “Their numbers have been depleted, but the fullest strength of their magic arsenal has not. All I can ask is your patience.”

You bow your head and step back. “I know that in this time, when prayers always go unanswered, the act of congregation can seem like a problem to many. I know your group has felt strain because of that. Know that I respect your courage, your convictions, and your faith, and that you maintain them as our nation emerges from these troubled times.”

You salute the group and walk back to where you had been standing. The entire group rises and bows as you do, and Arisa resumes her post. “Thank you, Herald Ledren. Your words are most encouraging,” she says.


>Stick around
>Go home

>>35779118
>>Wrap it up
>Wrap it up
Wrap it up

>>35779653
>>Stick around

I think it'd help with PR some.

>>35779653
>Stick around
what happened in this thread?

You fade back into the stacks while Arisa finishes up the meeting, but don’t leave. When it does end, you walk back in, anticipating many questions.

Unsurprisingly, the first thing that happens is that you’re surrounded by dozens of people. You raise your hands for silence. “Whoa, whoa, one at a time, please,” you urge. “Sir?”

One of the older men speaks up. “Your Eminence, what does this mean? Do you want to lead the congregation now?”

“No, I’m afraid, and I wouldn’t fare well in that regard,” you tell him. “Arisa’s doing a fine job. I don’t have a desire to replace her.”

“And the Circle itself? Will we finally be recognized?” another person demands.

“As an institution? No. As a legitimate part of Cenderian society? That’s up to the King,” you hedge. “But your Circle is doing no harm, and I personally think you’ve done a fine job with your artifact preservation, at the warehouse.”

After a few more banal questions, Kendal steps up. “Your Eminence, I thought I recognized you from before,” he says carefully. “You were the one who addressed me in the meeting before. I don’t understand. How can you say the country doesn’t need proselytizing in response to my other proposal before, and now praise us for our faith?”


>”Because the Circle is still widely distrusted, which can only be erased by an attitude that isn’t contrarian.”
>”Because there is a gulf between openly practicing the faith and practicing it in private.”
>”I respect your faith. I’m not going to openly defy the King and ask you to spread it.”
>writein

>>35780233

>Use Asa's Speech

File: stage_three_brand_of_Maite.png (335 KB, 1024x1024)

335 KB PNG

Again, you draw on Asa’s powers. Your next words are in her voice. “Oromer, the problem here is not your piety. It’s your willingness to recruit openly when your organization professes to obey an authority higher than the King’s. He is reasonable to expect you not to do so.” Her tone shifts. “Regardless. The King has agreed to take no action against your group. Trust in my messenger, and your Priestess.”

The room goes quiet again. The Circle members stare, awestruck. Kendall shrinks back, looking almost on the verge of tears. You immediately step closet, though. “Oromer, there’s nothing wrong with piety, and there’s nothing wrong with wanting others to share it. What is wrong is overzealousness. That’s all. You’ve not committed a crime or sin. Asa’s not reprimanding you. Alright?”

“Yes, your Eminence,” he says, looking down like a scolded child. “Thank you.”


[END OF THREAD!]

And we return next Friday, for preparations to attack the two remaining ringleaders!


This brand has expanded, so I'll have to get somebody to draw the new one. This is what it looked like last time it was updated.

File: this_armor_is_awesome_you_guys.png (258 KB, 1024x1024)

258 KB PNG

And my favorite pic thus far because I love it.

>>35780564
Thanks for running! Thanks also to the janitor.

>>35780766
Good run there, suh