File: Rock Turtle.jpg (296 KB, 920x995)

296 KB JPG

You are Osyki, journeyman Totemist and first line of defense for your village against the rabid Behemoths wandering the land. Your master, the previous Totemist, fell in a battle against a terrible Behemoth, leaving the duty of defending your settlement to you. The long-awaited missive from the nation to the southwest has finally arrived, demanding your presence on your village's behalf. You travel through the veil between worlds, the Gray Mists, en route to the kingdom of Eluneia.

[[Previous Threads: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive.html?tags=totem

Plot Summary: http://pastebin.com/dqBSNUTM

The Cast Thus Far / Binder's Log (Current up to thread 50): http://pastebin.com/VsJpEUx3

Ask: ask.fm/DiarcaEXE

Wiki in progess: http://totemistquest.pbworks.com

Quest Twitter: @TotemistQuest]]

>>36585769
Hi

>>36585750
> Watch for Boa's grotto as you fly.
> Summon a spirit to chat with as you travel. (Who?)
Hunger avatar.

>>36585750
> [x] Watch for Boa's grotto as you fly.

>>36585750
Seconding >>36585866

>>36585866
This minus boa. We can communicate with boa pretty easily on the go.

>>36585995
Sure, I figured we were just going to look at it to see how it looks from the mists. If that's not what that option means then I'm changing my vote at >>36585866 to just looking for it to see how it looks.

The strangely gnarled branches rise with greater and greater frequency as you fly ever onward. The bark of the trees seems to twist itself into runes and sigils that make your eyes ache, and the branches wave in a manner not entirely natural. If you didn't know better, you'd say that the trees here aren't really trees at all.

Actually, you do know better. You direct the Drake to give the strange boughs a wide berth.

This proves to be easier said than done as you fly forward. Tunnels of shining emerald leaves and walls of knotted roots rise seemingly at random through the mists. If the Drake is having any issues with navigation, he does not express them. He turns and weaves as the obstructions present themselves, moving with the kind of airborne (mistborne?) grace only a predator between worlds could possess. You find yourself grateful once more that the opportunity to bind him presented itself. You doubt you'd have worked up the courage to hunt him on your own initiative.

Your curiosity gets the better of you as you attempt to focus your attention on anything but the eye-searing bark that surrounds you. You draw Hollow Fang from its sheath at your side. The leaf-bladed sword instantly churns alight with terrible red spirit fire as it leaves its bindings. You can almost feel the constant, driving ravening from within the blade.

In the Material, what you do next would be impossible. A binding necessarily prevents all but a few spirits from communicating when imprisoned within an object, funneling their strength and the ambient spiritual energy they produce toward the intended effect. With the saturated mists around you, however, you're able to call forth a projection of the Avatar without unbinding him from the blade.

That is, you're able to try.

> 1d100

Rolled 32 (1d100)

>>36586188

Rolled 4 (1d100)

>>36586188

Rolled 66 (1d100)

>>36586188

Rolled 8 (1d100)

>>36586188

>>36586281
jesus

File: Sylvia.jpg (92 KB, 469x800)

92 KB JPG

It's a strange sensation, a sort of spiritual double-vision. Your eyes tell you that you're still holding Hollow Fang, though its spirit-fire sheath has somewhat diminished in the wake of your activities. To your spirit-sight, though, a gaping hole has torn in the fabric of reality before you. A hungering, featureless void sits in a perfectly spherical configuration on the Drake in front of you, staring without eyes at the weapon in your hands. A wave of -hate- pulses out of this emptiness, a wash of unadulterated fury at the utter lack of sustenance being poured into it that can only grow with every passing moment.

The experience is strange twofold. Your material and spiritual sights are usually one and the same when you tread the space between worlds. To have them segregated again like this, by force, is altogether a much less pleasant experience than staring at the arcane woodwork around you. It is further estranged by the utterly alien makeup of the thing in front of you, at once a three dimensional sphere and a hollow, all-encompassing void.

You swallow the gorge rising in your throat and banish the Avatar back to the confines of his blade with a thought. Not your most successful experiment to date.

"Not all spirits are as friendly as I, Osyki."

You jump at the unexpected voice, berating yourself for letting your guard slip in the face of such alien strangeness. A figure at once familiar and strange flies through the air beside you on wings of gossamer leaves. Her presence here is magnified, and she carries an almost regal bearing in her stance as she alights of the Drake's coils beside you, but there is no doubting.

"I see your panoply has grown since your return," Sylvia tells you. "Boand told me you would be passing through. I've been doing my best to clear the way for you."

> Thank you, Sylvia.
> Are they all like that?
> I had a question for you about a spirit.
> Where the hell did you come from?!
> Other

>>36586545
> Thank you, Sylvia.
> Are they all like that?
> Other
"Is there anything I need to know about passing through the swamp and the areas after?"

>>36586545
>Thank you, Sylvia.
>Are they all like that?
>Other
How are you doing?

>>36586545
Supporting >>36586662 and >>36586666

>>36586545
Based Sylvia

>>36586545
I like these non anime pictures better for the characters.

You suck in a deep breath through your nose, centering yourself. Images of that confusing void flash repeatedly before your mind's eye, angles that you can't have possibly seen. You do your best to force the thought from your mind.

"Thank you, Sylvia," you tell her unsteadily. "I appreciate the effort on your part. I'm sure the Drake does as well."

There is a non-committal grunt from the front of your flying reptile.

"It's no trouble," she says. "This side of the pond is easier to control than yours. Fewer rules to worry about."

She does look markedly more relaxed here.

"I heard from the Mother that you had agreed to raid the Wyrm's lair. Truth be told, I was surprised to see you come back intact. Your progress is surprisingly quick."

You shrug. "I learned from the best."

"I wonder," she says.

Brushing past the argument before it can take place, you jam the Hollow Fang back into its sheath. "Are they all like that?" you ask, tapping the stowed weapon.

Sylvia shakes her head. "Not all. Material needs given spiritual flesh tend to end that way. Hunger. Lust. Avarice. The more evolved a conceptual base, the more solidified the spirit shape, as Avatars go."

> You sound like you have some experience with that.
> I see. Ayren never taught me that.
> That makes sense.
> That makes no sense.
> Other

>>36586545
> Thank you, Sylvia.
> Other
Apologize for not coming to visit her during the rains like we said we wanted to. We were a bit too unconscious to manage it. We hope we didn't disappoint her too much.

>>36586900
> You sound like you have someexperience with that.

>>36586900
> That makes sense.
> You sound like you have some experience with that.

>>36586900
> You sound like you have some experience with that.
> I see. Ayren never taught me that.
> That makes sense.
> Other
"Is there anything I need to know about passing through the swamp and the areas after?"

>>36586900
>> That makes sense.

>>36586900
Supporting >>36587092

>>36587092
She's not going to know much about areas away from her domain.

>>36587348
She'll at least know some, she has lived next to them for several thousands of years.
The information about the swamp will at least be worthwhile.
Either way, we might as well try getting as much information as possible.

Diarca?

Rolled 78 (1d100)

>>36588098
ded

File: the seal.png (437 KB, 800x800)

437 KB PNG

Rolled 54 (1d100)

>>36588098
>>36588201
Fools, do you know nothing? We must invoke the seal.

Arise, Diarca!

>>36588246
It's hopeless... He's dead ):

>>36588246

[[I'm convinced this symbol actually has the magical ability to fix my shitty internet. Post incoming.]]

>>36585750
FUCK YEAH TOTEMIST QUEST!
> You sound like you have some experience with that.

You cant your head to one side. There's a surety in her tone. "Sounds like you're speaking from experience," you tell her. "Do you encounter many avatars?"

"They are a rarity. Still, when you get to be as long lived as I am, even rarities become known quantities."

You were under the impression that Sylvia was a fairly recently minted Land Guardian, around the time of Ayren's life. Is she exaggerating, or were your ideas mistaken? It seems improper to ask the lady about her age or the length of her reign, though, so you file it away under "questions for a rainy day".

Instead, "That makes sense. As you may be aware, Sylvia, I am something of a greenhorn when it comes to traveling the mists. Ayren's totem design will guide me, but I don't have any knowledge of what dangers might await me in the swamp, or beyond. Any words of wisdom?"

She considers that, bringing a leaf-wreathed hand to her chin. The vines that act as her hair whip serenely behind her as your Drake winds its way through the tunnels of arboreal energy.

"The Mother generally expects a small sacrifice from those passing through her realm, but I imagine you will be exempt from that, given your status. The edge of our domains can be a rocky transition, so keep your transportation aware. That aside, I've little knowledge of her realm, let alone those beyond. Boundaries hold more weight here than they do on your side of the veil. To cross into her domain is no mean feat for one as firmly anchored as I."

(cont.)

File: 1374705753922.jpg (122 KB, 650x939)

122 KB JPG

You scratch your head. So much for forward intelligence. "Thank you all the same," you tell her. She nods, slowly rising to her feet again.

"I wish you the best of luck in your travels, Osyki. Return soon."

You nod to her. "As soon as I am able, Sylvia. Take care."

She returns your nod, then steps off of the Skyscythe Drake's back. You catch a brief glimpse of her slipping into the trunk of one of the nearby trees, and then she's gone.

"If this is your first time in the Mists, there may be a number of suitably entertaining diversions for one such as yourself, Totemist," your Drake says suddenly. "How soon are we expected in this foreign kingdom?"

You consider that for a moment. A few stops in the Mists could yield significant bounties, maybe give you an edge against what challenges await you in Eluneia. Then again, you wasted a lot of time before your trip began. How much time can you really afford to delay further?

> Let's keep an eye out for any interesting sights. [[Longer Trip]]
> Avoid trouble, Drake. We're headed straight for our destination. [[Quick Trip]]

>>36588815
> Avoid trouble, Drake. We're headed straight for our destination. [[Quick Trip]]

>>36588815
>> Avoid trouble, Drake. We're headed straight for our destination. [[Quick Trip]]

>>36588815
>Let's keep an eye out for any interesting sights. [[Longer Trip]]
If anyone asks why we were late we can just lie and say we got attacked.

>>36588815
> Let's keep an eye out for any interesting sights. [[Longer Trip]]

>>36588815
> Let's keep an eye out for any interesting sights. [[Longer Trip]]

You had me at hello, Skyscythe Drake

>>36588815
>Let's keep an eye out for any interesting sights. [[Longer Trip]]

>>36588902
>tell the truth
ftfy

>>36588815
> Avoid trouble, Drake. We're headed straight for our destination. [[Quick Trip]]
The Drake's right, this is our first proper trip through the Mists. I'm sure we'll get into enough trouble on our own, not knowing what sort of things to expect.

>>36588976
Well I meant that we lie and say we got attacked going straight for them rather than getting attacked while looking for new boots.

>>36588815
Changing >>36588912 to > Avoid trouble, Drake. We're headed straight for our destination. [[Quick Trip]]
We'll have plenty of time on our way back, let's not keep anybody waiting for too long.

>>36589045
go for a half truth and just say we got attacked while traveling.

>>36588815

longer trip. We are still way faster in the mists then we would be on foot. We spent a couple of hours at our village, day max. being a day or two off schedule won't matter much when they probably won't be expecting us for a week or so.

I imagine they'll be super impressed with our speed while we apologize for our latness.

>>36589087
We already told them we'll be arriving sooner than they would otherwise expect though.

>>36588815
>> Let's keep an eye out for any interesting sights. [[Longer Trip]]

>>36588815
Fast trip first, just to make sure.we can move quickly if necessary.

We already dallied a lot last thread.

>>36589119

But we were all mysterious about it. It's still far enough away to the city that they mounted an exposition to the swap. it's at least a couple of days to the city. and we might have added a day at most do far.

that being said he's asked about time serval times so there probably is something time-sensitive

Rolled 2 (1d2)

[[ Rolling tiebreaker, I suppose.]]

>>36589582
Mate, you should really do stuff like this a lot earlier.

>>36589650

You're new here. This quest has a pretty slow posting speed.

The benefits of less time in the mist outweigh the potential rewards of a lengthy expedition, you decide. Less time in the Mist means less danger, less surprises waiting for you in Eluneia. The sooner you attend to your business across the Brush, the sooner you can return to your apprentices and your study.

"Full speed ahead," you tell the Drake. "No distractions, no interruptions. We'll retain the element of surprise if we arrive ahead of schedule."

It nods, the motion sending a ripple down the sinuous serpentine body you sit astride. "Good sense. You speak the wisdom of the skies. I must be rubbing off on you."

You snort, glancing behind you to confirm that you're still alone. The whorls and bulges in the mist remind you disconcertingly of the way the veil bulged before Saeri's initial assault on you, but a distinct lack of directed beam weaponry emerges from the clouds. Just your paranoia getting the best of you.

"Maybe," you mutter to the Drake. "Just get us there as fast as you can. I'm eager to be out of this place. I can't tell which way is up, at this point."

"If you're still looking for a direction like that, you'll stay lost. There is no 'up' or 'down' here. Only 'toward', 'away from', and 'lost'."

It's not a comforting explanation.

(cont.)

You fly through the mists for... a time. Exact duration is all but impossible to determine with nothing to judge by but the beat of your heart and the rhythmic thumping of the Drake's wings straining against the mists. A few small objects fall past you from time to time: stones, vines, disembodied fangs.

The transition into the Swamp's territory is as abrupt as Sylvia made it out to be. A sharp, jarring snap, as if someone had struck you across the face nearly throws you from the Drake's back, and you can feel it contorting underneath you in similar discomfort. The air grows dark and heavy, and you can taste the scent of florally tinged decay on your back teeth as your mount powers its way through the transitional barrier.

But even that is a small discomfort, compared to what comes directly after.

The floral scent in the air spikes, intensifies. The light that filters through the mist is all but extinguished for a moment as you emerge into the Mother's territory, and a hideously writhing something flashes between the banks of the mist ahead of you. You draw your spear with a fluid motion, standing--

The air fractures around you. Jagged chunks of reality snap at the seams and fall away. You feel a sickly plummeting sensation as the Drake's wings find no air to push against, no purchase in the sudden absence of light. There is a whirl of chaos, a spike of jumbled confusion as you drop.

You fall. But not for long.

When you land, it is in a flowered grove. The Mists filter weakly through the trees here, and the undergrowth comes up to your shins. Flowers tinged with strange red light bloom here and there, concealing wickedly barbed thorns under their petals.

A familiar, halting laugh echoes through the woods.

> Prepare for the worst. Full offensive.
> Stay put. Let it come to you.
> Full steam ahead. You need to find the Drake.
> This seems... familiar.

>>36590084
>Stay put

>>36590084
> This seems... familiar.

>>36590084
>> Full steam ahead. You need to find the Drake.

>>36590084
> Full steam ahead. You need to find the Drake.
or
> This seems... familiar.

>>36590084
> Stay put. Let it come to you.
> This seems... familiar.
Of course it seems familiar, Osyki. You literally haven't had a single journey to the spirit world that didn't involve powerful women.

>>36590084
> Full steam ahead. You need to find the Drake.

>>36590084
> Full steam ahead. You need to find the Drake.
Do not tread on any flowers just in case.

File: 1324877421651.jpg (432 KB, 1600x877)

432 KB JPG

Modi's spear in one hand, the Hollow Fang in the other, you advance into the wood. The barbs tear at your legs as you advance. Were it not for your Velociraptor Greaves, you have no doubt that your thighs would be bloody ribbons by the end of this. You step carefully around as many sticker bushes as you can. Echoing laughter bounces in uncertain, unstable directions around you. Flickering. Moving in a way that sound should not.

"Welcome b-b-back, Totemist," the wind whispers. "I t-t-told you w-we would have another mee-ee-eeting."

The speech is strangely stuttered, skipping as it flickers from place to place around you. You close your eyes, attempting to pinpoint the source with spirit sight and sound. The energy in this area is -strange-. Rough chunks of perfectly cuboid spiritual essence make up the flowers and vines here. They're tight knit, but there's enough space between them to clearly see the gaps. Nothing here is real -- at least, not real enough.

Where the hell are you?

A shaft of strangely refracted light catches your eye. You whirl, spear-point lancing out, and find a four-jointed finger pressed gently to the tip.

This thing again.

> Attack.
> "What do you -want?"
> "You again. Where's my Drake?"
> "So you did. And here we are again."
> Write-in

>>36590474
> "So you did. And here we are again."

>>36590474
> "So you did. And here we are again."

>>36590474
> "So you did. And here we are again."
That is a spooky-ass image.

>>36590474
> Write-in
"I hadn't expected you again so soon. Weren't you going to signal me first with the passing of truth across the sky? I can't really think of anything that fits that. Was I just asleep at the time? Please help me here, I'd feel dreadfully embarrassed if I missed your message."

>>36590561
If you think about it, though, Osyki's just as spooky right now. He's a shadowy outline of a man, featureless save for six blazing red eyes, who moves without appearing to cross the space in between. Our totems give us quite an intimidating look.

>>36590828
If we stay moving while we attack will another image of us ever appear?

You retract your spear, planting the butt of the weapon on the ground beside you. The primordial spirit that's been stalking your village. You ought to have expected something like this. You just thought you'd have a little more warning.

"So you did," you tell it. "I hadn't expected you quite so soon. The portents you described have yet to come to pass. Or, if they have, I'm afraid I've missed them." You jam the Hollow Fang back into its sheath, though your hand does not leaves its pommel. "I hope I wasn't asleep at the time."

The spirit laughs, like a box of windchimes and glass shards tumbling down a mountainside. As it does, its shapes flickers and blurs at the edges. It's close, for a moment only a hair's width away from you, its eye-burning amalgamation of a skull practically -brushing- you, and then it's back in place.

"No-o." It waves a many-jointed hand. "Wha-a-at you describe is a sign of my master's co-oming. Something you will help to orchestrate."

"Will I, now?" you ask. Your eyes scan the treeline for the familiar golden glow of your mount, but for the moment it appears you are alone with this strange being.

"It is fore-retold."

> "I don't do well with prophecy."
> "Foretold? By whom?"
> "Fascinating. Goodbye."
> Attack.
> Write-in

>>36590911
> "Foretold? By whom?"

>>36590911
> "Foretold? By whom?"

>>36590911
> "Foretold? By whom?"
I want to go "NO FATE BUT WHAT WE MAKE" and all, but we really should get more information.

>>36590911
> "Foretold? By whom?"
> Write-in

"Have you another message to deliver, or did you set up this meeting for another reason?"

Make sure we're smelling lilacs, if we're not then something might be odd.

>>36590911
>> "Foretold? By whom?"

Prophecy isn't something you've ever put much stock in. Too many would-be soothsayers in stories end up causing the whole calamity in the first place trying to prevent some foretold misery. Prophecy put Elana into the miserable situation she's in now. You laugh once, humorless and toneless, then fix the spirit as best you can with a stony stare.

"Foretold?" you ask it. "I wasn't aware I was part of some grand prophecy. Is that why you've pulled me from my travels? And foretold by whom, might I ask?"

The thing shakes its head, and the scintillating light display that follows is enough to make your already irritated head pulse with pain. The overwhelming smell of flowers is making you a little nauseous.

"Foret-t-o-old," it stresses. "Se-ee-en. Linearit-ty is a fool's construct."

You frown, at a loss.

"I have seen you free him, To-t-t-otemist. Perhaps a better word would be 'in-in-inevitable'."

It jumps again as it stutters that last word, a few paces closer to you. This time, it does not flicker back. The mist around you begins to thin further, and the red glow from beneath grows.

"We must begin our preparations."

> "I think not."
> "What do you want from me?"
> "This enigmatic master of yours. What's he have to do with me?"
> Attack.
> Write-in

>>36590911
> "Foretold? By whom?"

>>36591320
> "This enigmatic master of yours. What's he have to do with me?"
> "What do you want from me?"

>>36591320
>> "This enigmatic master of yours. What's he have to do with me?"

I know the messenger is creepy and all, but what if the master isn't a big bad evil thing? What if there is a reason we have been foretold/seen unleashing him?

We should find out more before dismissing this outright. After all, there are a lot of people that Osyki has met where appearances were deceiving.

>>36591320
"I don't really see why. If it is inevitable, then won't I wind up freeing your master regardless of what I, or you for that matter want?"

>>36591320
> "This enigmatic master of yours. What's he have to do with me?"
> "What do you want from me?"

>>36591320
"So you exist outside of my perception of time? Neat."

>>36591320
> "This enigmatic master of yours. What's he have to do with me?"

"Preparations," you repeat. "Why? If this is all inevitable, I'll end up doing this anyway of my own volition, correct?"

"Corr-e-ect, and yet not. You will open the way. Whe-ether you survive opening the gate is not fixed in ston-one."

Ah. Lovely. You tighten your grip on the pommel of your sword, doing your best to look anywhere but -at- that delirium-inducing head.

"And this enigmatic master of yours? What does he have to do with me?" you ask.

"Nothing and everyth-i-ing," the spirit replies with surprising brevity. Not very helpful, but at least it's not flickering toward you, you suppose.

"What do you want from me?"

"Your gra-atitude," it says. "Your mind and bod-d-dy, in the short term. A vessel to direct in this world."

It reaches for you with fingers like shadows growing long at sunset.

> "I'm nobody's puppet."
> "A vessel? I dont--"
> Back away.
> Attack.
> Write-in

>>36591941
>> Back away.

>>36591941
A compelling argument but how about no?

>>36591941
> "I'm nobody's puppet."

>>36591941
> "I'm nobody's puppet."
> Back away.

>>36591941
> Back away.
> Write-in
"I'm afraid I'm busy right now. So unless you can give a more compelling argument, I'll be on my way."

God, I hate time travel stuff.

>>36591941
> Back away.
> "I'm nobody's puppet."

>>36591941
>"I'm nobody's puppet."
"and I have no reason to trust you with my body."

You take a step back. A wisp of spirit fire leaks from Hollow Fang's sheath as you draw an inch of the blade from its scabbard, and you level your spear to intercept its questing, stretching grasp.

"Compelling as your argument is," you tell the primordial spirit, "I'm nobody's puppet, and I've no reason to trust you with my patience any further, let alone my body."

The thing's fingers recoil sinuously as they near the ancestral spear's edge, and it seems to vibrate in place quietly for a moment.

"You refuse?" it asks gleefully.

"Let me couch in this terms you might understand," you retort. "Get the fuck out of my face. I have places to be."

The thing flinches as if struck, staggering back a step.

"Regret-t-table," it tells you. "We will do this my way no-o-w."

Without another twitch it vanishes from sight. You jump back, landing in a pile of thorny vines.

> 1d100

Rolled 87 (1d100)

>>36592533

Rolled 58 (1d100)

>>36592533
Let's go.

Rolled 43 (1d100)

>>36592533

Rolled 28 (1d100)

>>36592533
this fuckin guy

A high-pitched whine in your ear is the only warning you receive. You flicker-step to the side, rolling down the hill of thorned barbs in a protective shell of Elder Turtle shield. A meteoric fork of black lightning slams the vines where you stood, reducing the entire pile of barbed vegetation to visible cubes of spiritual energy. The rest of the primordial spirit's body quickly follows, zipping through space after its arm in an exaggerated line until it reforms on the ground.

Your flicker-step image fades as you slow to a halt, slamming Modi's spear into the ground. You draw the Song of the Deep from your back in one swift motion, tugging the string to your cheek. The flowers around you flash-freeze as you absorb the ambient, muggy heat of the flowered wood into your weapon.

"Ha-a-ahahaha-ahha-a-a--"

You fire a lance of white-hot fury down the clearing at the spirit, launching a pair of acidic wads from your mask as an afterthought. The spirit warps its body -around- the beam of plasmic heat, growing a wide hole in its body almost too quickly for your eyes to track. The tree behind it bursts into flames even as it falls in splinters to the ground. The globs of Basilisk Venom splatter to the ground before it. Did you miss? No. You're suddenly standing a few feet back from where you thought you were.

This is not a favorable battlefield for you.

You spring back into motion, leaving another flicker-step projection behind as you barrel deeper into the woods. Behind you, another thunderclap signals the spirit has made short work of your illusion.

Its haunting laugh bounces in stuttering echoes through the wood.

> Go full defensive. Elder turtle barrier, sweeping song-blasts, Gnome Guard at the ready. (1d100)
> Go on the offense. Hollow Fang should put a stop to that cackling. (1d100)
> Get out. Flicker-step should keep you safe if you change direction every so often. Where the -hell- is the Drake? (1d100)
> Write-in

Rolled 38 (1d100)

>>36592950
>> Get out. Flicker-step should keep you safe if you change direction every so often. Where the -hell- is the Drake? (1d100)

Yeah...I think we need to go.

>>36592950
> Get out. Flicker-step should keep you safe if you change direction every so often. Where the -hell- is the Drake? (1d100)
THIS GUY

Rolled 80 (1d100)

>>36593015
forgot my roll with that one.

Rolled 32 (1d100)

>>36592950
> Get out. Flicker-step should keep you safe if you change direction every so often. Where the -hell- is the Drake? (1d100)

Rolled 75 (1d100)

>>36592950
> Get out. Flicker-step should keep you safe if you change direction every so often. Where the -hell- is the Drake? (1d100)

This shit is exactly why we should totally just walk next time.

Rolled 56 (1d100)

>>36592950
>> Go full defensive. Elder turtle barrier, sweeping song-blasts, Gnome Guard at the ready. (1d100)

Rolled 10 (1d100)

>>36592950
> Go on the offense. Hollow Fang should put a stop to that cackling. (1d100)
It's been lurking around our village, it knows where we live.
We need to take care of this guy.

>>36593091
I'd like to get help before we fight it, though. Or at least fight it someplace less advantageous to it. This is its little domain it's carved out here, we're not going to have much luck.

You duck and roll every so often, altering your course to leave another convincing phantom behind you. The sounds of destruction grow closer and closer with every juke and dodge, though. The spirit is growing wise to your tricks.

"Palt-try copies!" The wind howls around you. "I have devoured so many alread-d-d-dy!"

You catch a flash of color in the red and gray saturated trees, a mote of topaz gold, and immediately shift course to head toward it. You find a single golden stone feather lodged in a tree, and a swath of destruction carved through the forest. You skid to a halt for a moment, casting your eyes around.

Has he abandoned you? Could he, with you holding his Focus like a leash?

"Found y-you."

You roll to one side even as you bring up the Blessing's barrier. A lance of black lightning that you recognize as the primordial spirit itself -- elongated into a thin spear in its entirety -- slams into the patch of flowered wood you just vacated. The earth comes away in cuboid chunks, flowing into the spirit.

Empowering it?

Your barrier has a ragged hole where the shaft of darkness clipped it. You doubt it will be much use to you for now.

(cont.)

"C-c-ome to me, boy," it says, fingers lancing out like spears toward you. "Time to go to w-work."

The dark shafts pierce through your skull, driving you back into the trunk of the tree behind you -- or rather, the skull of the phantasm behind you. You roll into the underbrush again, cursing silently.

If you follow the path, it might lead you to the Drake. Then again, without cover to hide behind, you'll be a sitting duck. But does this thing even need to see you to know where you are here?

It's decided for you as the tree behind you bursts into a rough collection of multi-colored cubes. You need to move.

You turn on your heel, rolling to one side, then jetting forward. The Greaves fill your legs with unnatural vigor as you sprint, staving off the burning building in your muscles. Adrenaline spikes through your system as Gnome Guard deflects a barrage of tiny shrike-like shadows. Too close. Too close.

> 1d100

Rolled 51 (1d100)

>>36593421
Move move move.

Rolled 3 (1d100)

>>36593409
RUN BITCH RUUUNNNN

Rolled 21 (1d100)

>>36593421
The dice are not with us right now.
Let us hope.

Rolled 99 (1d100)

>>36593421

>>36593484
whyyyyyyyy

File: fffffffyeaaaaaah.gif (927 KB, 500x338)

927 KB GIF

>>36593484
FFFFFFFFFFFFFFF

Rolled 1 (1d100)

>>36593484
muhdick

>>36593646
You motherfucker. The range for criticals is five rolls, not three. That better not count due to not being linked to Diarca's post.

File: 1417396022481.png (331 KB, 721x427)

331 KB PNG

>>36593484
>>36593646

>>36593693
i picked this quest up today and i fuck it up in a single roll

well i guess i'll just read the archives tomorrow

>>36593709
Oh, now I feel bad. Sorry, I shouldn't have been so harsh. It's not your fault, it's the whim of the dice. Stay, we still want you around.

File: 1384548212184.png (50 KB, 273x223)

50 KB PNG

>>36593646
i hate you
haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaate you

>>36593726
no no, it's okay.

I hope it doesn't get counted to be honest, I left the dice on accidentally and I know some QMs are picky about what's linked and whats not.

Rolled 24 (1d100)

>>36593421

You roll to one side, then the other as another barrage of tiny shadow-knives lance home in the dirt -just- behind you. Gnome Guard bounces one, twice, then judders back in your back as it repels a cascade of terrifying projectiles from sinking into your skin. Your Raptor Greaves pump spiritual invigoration into your legs as you duck from tree to tree, doing your best to think two steps ahead of the primordial thing as it jumps from spot to spot. To an outside observer, you think distractedly, this battle is ludicrous: two shadowy figures jumping from point to point, throwing barrages of projectiles at one another.

A loud crunching sound from ahead of you sends a surge of hope racing through your mind. A wall of golden scales ripples between trees, and a familiar keening whine alerts you to duck as the blade of the Skyscythe Drake's wing shreds through the tree next to you like a saw through a feather. You roll to your feet as the beast coils in the clearing, fangs bared, wings alight with golden luminescence. A powerful leap propels you onto the Drake's back.

"Fly!" you shout. "Get us the fuck out of he--"

Gnome guard shatters into a dozen drops of mercurial liquid as the bolt of darkness lances through it. The barrier of the Elder Turtle comes away in glowing shell fragments. You feel the bolt of black lightning slam home in your chest, rattling your teeth in their sockets, rolling your eyes into the back of your head.

The pain is exquisite. A great relief, then, that your body gives out only a few moments into it.

---


When you come to. it is to the cold comfort of the mists. Your Drake flies silently through the bleak world, long gashes scratched in its hide all around you. It turns its head to regard you with one amber eye when it feels you stir.

> "What happened?"
> "Are you alright?"
> "How did we get away?"
> "Where's the-- I mean, how did you--?"
> Write-in

>>36594182
> "Are you alright?"
> "What happened?"

>>36594182
>> "Are you alright?"

>>36594182
> "What happened?"
> "Are you alright?"

>>36594182
> "Are you alright?"
> Write-in
Check on Cordia. Her binding was just destroyed by a spirit that absorbs the energy of what it strikes, I want to make sure she's not hurt.

>>36594182
>> "What happened?"
> "Are you alright?"
> "How did we get away?"
> "Where's the-- I mean, how did you--?"

>>36594311

> All of them xDDDDD

Sure is Exalted Quest in here.

You open your mouth to speak, but a choking sensation overtakes you and you launch into a particularly violent coughing fit. Doubled over, wretching saliva and hacking onto a carpet of golden scales, you are reminded of just how frail your body is beneath the layers of magical armor. You got careless today. Should've kept a better eye out. Should've made the first strike instead of mouthing off.

You wipe your mouth with the back of your sleeve, noting with some distaste the faint red tinge that leaves on the material. "Are you alright?" you ask the drake. "What happened?"

"The spirit attacked you when your guard was down. Once it had touched you the once, it ceased its hunt and stalked away. The spiritual pocket we were in started to come apart at the seams, so I decided to make our exit before we were trapped in whatever space that pocket was constructed in."

"And the wounds?" you ask.

"I didn't say it was easy," the Drake says sullenly. "Like trying to navigate a fledgling through a box canyon filled with firedust. Every time I touched something, it detonated."

You wince. You're alive, at least. But what...?

"We'll be at the beacon in a few minutes time. You've been out for several hours," the Drake informs you. "I can manifest a ways away from the beacon, if you like, but I'm not sure how far that will put you from your destination in the Material."

So soon? Damn. You glance behind you. Gnome Guard has come together as a whole again, but deep cracks run through the mirror. Hopefully Cordia is recovering. You can't believe that assault blew right through her guard.

> "Just head to the beacon. I'll be fine."
> "Let's give me some room to clean up before I materialize."
> Give yourself the once-over.
> Contact Boa.

>>36594542
> "Just head to the beacon. I'll be fine."
> Give yourself the once-over.

>>36594542
>> Give yourself the once-over.
>> "Just head to the beacon. I'll be fine."

>>36594542
> "Let's give me some room to clean up before I materialize."
> Give yourself the once-over.

>>36594542
>"Let's give me some room to clean up before I materialize."
>Give yourself the once-over.
>Contact Boa.

>>36594542
>> "Let's give me some room to clean up before I materialize."
>> Give yourself the once-over.
>> Contact Boa.

>>36594542
>> "Let's give me some room to clean up before I materialize."

>>36594542
>"Let's give me some room to clean up before I materialize."
>Give yourself the once-over.
>Contact Boa.

>>36594542
>> "Just head to the beacon. I'll be fine."
> Give yourself the once-over.

You let the Guise of Night fall from your head and shoulders, shaking your head free of the strange static helmet-hair it produces. "Let's give me some room to get myself cleaned up before we go barreling into the middle of town," you tell the Drake. "I want these people to take me seriously. Don't think coughing blood into my sleeve and doubling over will instill a healthy sense of respect in my abilities."

The Drake snorts. "Very well. We'll land in a minute or two."

You nod, giving him a pat on the undamaged section of his flank. As he angles his flight for touchdown, you pull the neck of your shirt forward and glance down.

The filaments of shadow that are woven into your shirt seem wispy and insubstantial around the site of the impact. Your chest is a little bruised, true, but other than that the bolt of dark energy doesn't seem to have left much of a mark on you. You reach down, brushing your fingers gently over the bruise. It's raw, like a burn, but your skin is intact and unbroken.

"The hell was that thing's game?" you mutter quietly. It could have killed you, clearly. Was it toying with you? Why did it let you and the drake go so easily after that extended chase?

All you know is, you can't rid yourself of the scent of those lilacs.

(cont.)

The transition into the Material is a breath of fresh air, literally. You dip down into a breeze, spiraling downward over vast green hills. The grass below rustles with the waves of wind that gently skim to tops of the mounds, and the sun is high over your head.

About twelve hours of travel time, give or take. Not bad.

The Drake flares its wings wide, catching what rays of the sun it can as it begins to unravel in the midday light. As you descend, you can see your destination perched atop a particularly tall hill before you.

Stone spires stretch skyward. Had you not witnessed the underground spires of Pointsmar, you'd boggle at buildings of such a size. The city of Eluneia sits before you in three concentric circles, ringed by walls and watched over by both an imposing castle and what appears to be a massive clock-tower.

Guards (visible only a silver spots on the walls) patrol the perimeter in tight formation. Arrayed around the city are vast swaths of ploughed land. Farms enough to feed a hundred times the population of your village.

> See what you can do to clean up.
> Swap around bindings.
> Head for the city.

>>36595256
> See what you can do to clean up.

>>36595256
>> See what you can do to clean up.
Check on Cordia

>>36595256
What would be a very impressive looking loadout? Not a scary show of force, but just impressive looking.
Also, clean up

>>36595256
> See what you can do to clean up.
> Swap around bindings.
Something less intimidating.

Rolled 70 (1d100)

>>36595256
> See what you can do to clean up.
> Make sure Cordia is alright.

>>36595293
Skyscythe Drake in our cloak, being able to sprout magnificent glowing wings is always impressive. Plate Worm in armor, clothing of crystal is cool. Elder Turtle in boots, obviously. And Cordia in our gloves. The rest can remain as is for now.

switching bindings around will attract attention

>>36595256

>>36595325
This. Maybe even check up on the elder turtle and the raptor.

>>36595256
>> See what you can do to clean up.

>>36595256
> See what you can do to clean up.

>>36595256
> Swap around bindings.

Boand's mask may be a good idea. Noxious Roar doesn't leave the best impression. We can try the Basalisk Wyrm in our Cloak while we're at it.

>>36595460
Putting her in the mask gives us a charisma boost, too, so let's go for it.

>>36595480
>>36595460
Sure

>>36595256
What's our current loadout?

>>36595460
>>36595480
>>36595256

This please

>>36595642
>Current Loadout:

Armor: Blessing of the Elder Turtle
Mask: Noxious Roar
Bow: Song of the Deep
Shirt: Guise of Night
Pants: Velociraptor Greaves
Sword: Hollow Fang
Boots: Moth's Flicker-Step
Mirror: Gnome Guard

>>36595677
can we clean up first before we start swapping bindings?

>>36595693
Shouldn't we swap and then clean? I am unsure if getting tired while binding makes us sweat.

>>36595772
Swapping makes lots of light and sound. If we swap first, we might not have much time to clean up, depends on how faraway the nearest patrol is and how fast they can get there.

>>36595677
Amor, Pants, Sword, and Boots are fine. Might consider changing bow to something with less AOE. Boand in Mask, Drake in Mask?

>>36595693
>>36595772
It's doesn't really matter either way.

>>36595811
Drake in Cloak rather.

File: ugh eww no NO nuhuh fuckt(...).gif (1.23 MB, 285x212)

1.23 MB GIF

>Spirit leaves after touching us ONCE
>leaves a mark
I swear next time we "dive to the heart" it's gonna have done something to Osyki's inner world

>>36595677
I'd say swap the Basilisk for Boand in our mask, swap the Elder Turtle for the Glimmerwing Moth in our boots, place the Plate Worm in our armor, and put the Skyscythe Drake in our cloak. Nice and stylish look. Man with armor of crystal and clothing of exotic lizard skin, who can grow wings of golden light and leap into the air in a flash of lightning. Should be appropriately impressive.

>>36595841
Almost definitely.

>>36595841
Oh, almost certainly. It's definitely infected us with something.

>>36595841
Well it did sort of say that outright.

>>36595849
But where do we put the rest of the stuff? We should wear everything just to show off.

>>36595677
Cloudwalker's Stride might be preferable to Moth's Flickerstep, flickering from place to place might be disconcerting for the locals.

We might want to unbind SotD, it has a decent bit of collateral damage.

We should probably take off Guise of Night, it completely obscures us with shadow, a bit scary looking for this. We can try something new in it, maybe the Moth, maybe the Siren.

>>36595811
>>36595849
I'd hold off on any Drake bindings, we're still riding it and not at the ground yet.

>>36595849
Add Cordia to Gloves and it sounds good to me.

>>36595841
i know, fucking pisses me off somethin' fierce

>>36595906
>I'd hold off on any Drake bindings, we're still riding it and not at the ground yet.
I assumed we would have landed by the time we bound it. Though with Cloudwalker Stride falls don't actually matter to us.

>>36595894
Ooh we should try something in our belt.

File: 1413604205454.gif (433 KB, 600x626)

433 KB GIF

>>36595841
>hey it could've been worse
>we also could've had a 99
only tears now gentle anon

You trek down the hill as the Drake unravels into the Razor Wing focus before your eyes, piling itself neatly into your hand with a small groan of protest. You carefully stow the artifact before pulling off your cloak, then your armor, then your shirt.

The bruise is worse than you thought. An asterisk-shaped burn radiates outward from your chest, bruised at its edges. You crouch down in the field, pulling open your pack and pulling out your first aid supplies. It's not a bad burn, and the bruising isn't deep, so you apply a small dab of burn gel to the site of the attack. No need for bandages, you reason, since your skin wasn't broken. You'll have to see if you can get a bath when you arrive in the city.

You comb your fingers through your hair and do your best to scrub the sleep from your eyes. Tiny filaments of silver stretch across the surface of the Gnome Guard's cracks, slowly repairing the damage that's been done. You're a little reluctant to pull Cordia from the artifact while it's still on the mend. Would that hurt her? You've never seen a Bound Focus sustain injury like this.

You pull Boand's Pearl from your shirt and pull the Basilisk Cryst from your mask once you've made yourself as presentable as you think you can manage in the mirrored surface of the Gnome Guard. A bit of swapping is in order, you think. Something a little less suited for stealth and a little more suited for good first impressions. You hope the impending flashes of light won't be cause for too much alarm in the city below.

One way to find out.

[[ Seems like the consensus is for Boand's Pearl in the mask and the usual Turtle Boots. Writing for the rest in a few.]]

>>36595906
I don't remember all the names, but how about this?
Armor: Crystal Worm
Mask: Boand
Bow: Poison Snake or Hunger?
Shirt: ?
Pants: Velociraptor Greaves
Sword: Hollow Fang
Boots: Turtle
Gloves: Cordia
Mirror: None
Belt: Siren?

>>36596046
Armor: Crystal Worm
Mask: Boand's Pearl
Bow: Whatever it was that did the hoard-of-screaming-ravenous-phantom-drakes. That shit's awesome.
Shirt: none
Pants: Velociraptor
Boots: Elder Turtle (it's our classic, and it's stylish)
Gloves: Siren (if we need to get some attention, we can just snap our fingers)
Mirror: Cordia (let her heal)
Sword: Hollow Fang (keep it where it is until we can get a shield and put it in there)

>>36596267
ooh we should but our new cobra in the shirt.

>>36596267
That was the Plate Worm, with a boost from the Skyscythe Drake in our gloves. So we can't do that if we're going to use Vestus Sonitus.

>>36596540
Pretty sure the drake bow shoots an arrow that acts like a target for a bunch of phantom drakes on its own.

>>36596573
It does, but only one drake. It was the combo that made for a swarm.

>>36596590
You sure? I thought it was a swarm when we used it on the siren.

By the time you hear the tromping of armored boots coming up the hill, you're ready. You straighten up, armor sitting heavily on your shoulders, and wait.

The Eluneian patrol is clearly taking no chances. The advance in formation, tall shield held in a wall before them, spear jutting from carefully tooled slots in the metallic wall their overlapping bulwarks provide. You can see the captain by his medals of rank and his polished silver armor, bearing the same face that the Captain's had in the Plate Worm's canyon.

Their faces are priceless.

>Current Loadout:

Armor: Vestus Sonitus
Mask: Aria Nymph
Bow: Resplendant Gale
Cloak: Nocturne's Embrace
Pants: Velociraptor Greaves
Sword: Hollow Fang
Boots: Cloudwalker's Stride
Gloves: Fist of the Mantle
Mirror: Gnome Guard

Garbed in crystal and chitin and fluttering shadow, you imagine you must make for quite the sight. You give the Captain a sweeping bow as his face slowly registers your over-the-top appearance, glancing up to give him a small smile.

(cont.)

File: 1410166633220.jpg (445 KB, 1451x1500)

445 KB JPG

"Greetings, Captain," you say smoothly. You can feel Boand's voice in the back of your head, subtly urging your words one way or another. Your voice is like a gentle brook as it tumbles from your lips. "I believe I'm expected in the city. I am the Totemist of Grisoch Village. Corporal Rime sent for me not long ago."

The shield wall relaxes ever so slightly, and the man in silver mail steps out from around his fellows to inspect you more thoroughly.

"We were told you'd be landing at the city gates," he says.

You shrug. "I didn't want to cause a disturbance in the city. My method of travel is, ah, somewhat of a spectacle. Better to land from a safe distance to keep the public peace," you explain.

The captain nods, waving a hand. The shield and spears lower, the men standing at attention. "Well then. We'll escort you into the city properly, Totemist. If you would?"

"Thank you kindly, Captain," you say to him with another shallow bow. "That would be perfect."

Flanked on either side by a dozen nervous men in full plate mail, you approach the gates of Eluneia.

> Follow the men. Let's not make them even more nervous.
> Make a grand entrance. These people ought to remember you.
> Ask the Captain something.
> Ask Boand something.
> Write-in

>>36596632
Say nothing, but summon Tyr to follow along

>>36596632
> Follow the men. Let's not make them even more nervous.
Chat with the Captain. Ask him if there are any customs we should follow within the city.

>>36596632
> Follow the men. Let's not make them even more nervous.
We'll make enough of a spectacle without even trying, no need to go all out.

>>36596632
> Follow the men. Let's not make them even more nervous.

>>36596632
>> Follow the men. Let's not make them even more nervous.

>>36596632
>>> Follow the men. Let's not make them even more nervous.

>>36596632
> Make a grand entrance. These people ought to remember you.

Roads are for other people. We'll use the rooftops.

>>36596632
> Ask the Captain something.
Are there any customs to know when visiting this land? We'd hate to cause offense by accident.

>>36596632
> Ask the Captain something.

Ask him what he's been told of us and of Grisoch, its good to know where we stand. Compliment his city, ask about any faux pas to avoid.

File: 1410166945235.jpg (385 KB, 2700x3400)

385 KB JPG

You follow quietly behind the captain as he leads you down the sloping hills toward the city gates. The men on either side of you steal a glance every so often at your armor or your spear, but training or fear or some combination of the two keeps their lips sealed and theirs gazes pointed forward.

The ascent of the city's hill is greatly eased by the road carved into its side. Paved with small stones fit in regular patterns and fairly clear of dust and debris, the road is a boon to the men in heavy armor as they make their way toward the gates. You quietly imagine what such a structure could do for your village. With hope, you'll be able to reach compromise here.

"Captain," you say as you climb toward the imposing city gates, "tell me. This is a grand city, to be sure, and I would hate to start things off on the wrong foot. Are there any local customs I ought to be aware of? Anything that I should be sure to remember, or to avoid?"

He grunts, turning to look over his shoulder. "I doubt you'll have the chance to mingle with the populace for long whilst we're escorting you, Totemist. Just look men in the eye when you shake their hands, and be sure not to mispronounce any names you might be told."

You nod. "I'll be certain to do just that."

(cont.)

The patrol snaps to a halt outside the gates, imposing iron bars beaten into an ornate portcullis. The men on the far side of the wrought barrier regard you with a strange look, but the captain gives them some manner of hand signal, and they set to work pulling levers and winches to raise the massive gate.

As the spiked bottom edge clears your height, a woman in armor snaps a sharp salute to the column of men surrounding you. She steps forward and the captain mirrors her advance.

"Report, sir," she says.

"No trouble. Just our expected guest." He jerks a thumb over his shoulder to indicate you, and the woman's gaze traces your armor for a moment in mute surprise.

"Understood. There's a small problem just inside."

The Captain's mustache quivers. "Don't tell me."

> "Trouble, Captain?"
> Stay silent and observe. This is a learning opportunity.
> Introduce yourself to the woman (with/without your name).
> Write-in

>>36597078
>Stay silent and observe. This is a learning opportunity.
There is wisdom in silence. And remember, we have to play the mysterious wizard-of-the-woods here. Can't get too friendly too fast.

>>36597078
> Stay silent and observe. This is a learning opportunity.

>>36597078
> "Trouble, Captain?"

Rolled 21 (1d100)

>>36597078

>"Trouble, Captain?"
We can totally help!

>>36597078
> Stay silent and observe. This is a learning opportunity.
We can offer help after we know the problem.

>>36597078
>> Stay silent and observe. This is a learning opportunity.
Offer help if it is something we can help with

>>36597078
These guys have the right idea.

>>36597078
>> Stay silent and observe. This is a learning opportunity.

File: Defender of the Land!.jpg (840 KB, 1891x1281)

840 KB JPG

The captain turns to you after a moment. There's an odd expression on his face, you note: he looks as though he's having difficulty resisting the urge to smile, even as he heaves a heavy sigh of resignation. "Totemist, I'm afraid I'll have to leave you in the hands of this capable young woman for now. I have a pest problem to resolve."

You raise an eyebrow, but remain otherwise taciturn as the Captain gives you an informal salute, shoulders his spear, and marches into the tunnel leading to the city. The woman bows to you.

"Lance Corporal Pruisa Rookwood, at your service. If you'll follow me, Totemist?"

You nod, falling into step behind her again. Is a Lance Corporal better than a standard one? Are all members of their guard designated by their weapons? What a curious rank structure. So many questions.

"Welcome to Eluneia Alastacia," she says as you emerge from the gate and into the city proper. Stone and wood houses. Paved streets. You can see the next set of gates standing imposingly further up the hill, though there seems to be something of a market street between here and there.

More interestingly, you note, there is a feathered man on a roof.

"Take note, my good people!" he shouts, his voice magnified to boom out over the city. "Thieves and philanderers shall receive their just recompense!" He hoists two individuals by their collars, shaking them for emphasis.

"For god's sake, man, get down from there!" You hear the Captain's voice follow. "This is the third time in as many days!"

The Lance Corporal puts a hand to her face. There are some murmurings from the men around you.

> "...?"
> "My word. He's a strong one."
> "Another member of your guard, Pruisa?"
> Ignore him. Keep walking.
> Write-in

>>36597523
> "My word. He's a strong one."
> "Another member of your guard, Pruisa?"

>>36597523
> Write-in
"So I take it this happens often?"

>>36597523
"Big Cities sure are interesting."

>>36597523
>"My word. He's a strong one."
>Write-in
"Are street preachers a common thing in Eluneia?"

Rolled 75 (1d100)

>>36597523
>Ask if this is a regular occurrence.

>>36597523

> "My word. He's a strong one."
> "Another member of your guard, Pruisa?"

>>36597613
>>36597573
The captain literally just said so.

>>36597523
> "My word. He's a strong one."
> "Another member of your guard, Pruisa?"

>>36597523
>> "...?"
> "Another member of your guard, Pruisa?"

You snort quietly, leaning on your spear. The entire column around you has slowed its pace to watch the spectacle. Pruisa making a face that makes it quite clear she's holding in some laughter.

"My word," you say. "He is a strong one, to hoist to men with one arm so easily. Would that be another member of your guard, Pruisa?"

She shakes her head, one hand on her hip. "No, not as such. He certainly thinks it's his job to keep the city safe, though. Calls himself the 'Silver Hawk'. He's one of the Lady of the Moon's chosen."

"Chosen?" you ask. The man seems to have taken note of the Captain, who is slowly but surely climbing onto the roof. The armored figure seems delighted.

"Mmm. Invested with divine might by our patron lady, or so the legends go. Strong as an ox, quick as a raven."

Invested with divine might by the moon? Is that possible? "I see," you say simply. "Quite a character."

"He's got his heart in the right place." That's all the comment she seems willing to make. As the troops march up the main road with you in tow, you note the captain making several angry pointing motions toward the ground. The figures nods, salutes, then spirals into the sky with both men in tow in a terrifically powerful leap before landing on the streets out of sight.

Perhaps your abilities aren't quite so out of the ordinary for these people.

"The garrison is just past the next gate," Pruisa explains.

> "And that's where the Corporal is waiting?"
> "I'll be staying there, I assume?"
> Stay silent.
> "I think I should like to meet that man."
> Write-in

>>36597781
> "And that's where the Corporal is waiting?"

>>36597781
> "And that's where the Corporal is waiting?"

>>36597781
>Stay silent.
The phrase 'watch and learn' comes to mind. We shouldn't make assumptions.

>>36597781
>> "And that's where the Corporal is waiting?"
> "I think I should like to meet that man."

>>36597781
> "I think I should like to meet that man."

"Does he spend a lot of time on rooftops?"

>>36597781
> "I think I should like to meet that man."

>>36597781
>Alright then, let's go.
>I think I should like to meet that man."

"The Garrison," you say with a nod. "And that's where the Corporal will be waiting for us?"

"That's right, sir," Pruisa says. "I don't think he was expecting you so soon, but I'm sure he'll be happy to meet you early."

You glance behind you once more as you head toward the city's second gate. On either side of you market stalls obscure your view of the lower city. Colorful cloths and rugs, foodstuffs to make the mouth water, and strange curios are on prominent display. Still, you think you can make out a flash of silver every so often.

"I think I should like to meet that man," you say to no one in particular.

"The Hawk? If you can find him, I'm sure he'd be delighted."

Another thing to add to the to-do list, then.

You head through a smaller portcullis set into the first inner wall. This one has been left open, though you imagine if necessary it could be slammed shut very quickly indeed.

(cont.)

The far side of the inner wall is a new landscape altogether. The ring in the center of the city is clearly designated for military use. Stocky utilitarian buildings are interspersed with training yards and guard towers at neat, even intervals. Most of the men and women in the street here bear the Eluneian crest on their clothing or their armor, and the majority of them have the kind of posture you associate with people who hold shields as a matter of daily course.

The garrison is by far the largest building within your view, dominating the street to the left of the gate. The lance corporal leads you to the door, dismissing your armed escort as she does. She holds the door open for you. You think it's to get a better look at the equipment strapped to your body as you pass through the door. She's clearly quietly restraining a great deal of curiosity.

Once inside, she leads you up a pair of flights of stairs. The glimpse you catch of the first level seems to be bunks and storage, while the second is a nest of hallways. When you emerge onto the third floor, she gestures to the large pair of double doors across the hall.

"The Corporal awaits, Totemist."

> Thank you, Lance Coporal.
> Thank you, Pruisa. It was a pleasure.
> Nod silently and head inside.
> Write-in

>>36598335
>> Thank you, Lance Corporal.
We're here on official business.

>>36598335
>> Thank you, Pruisa. It was a pleasure.

>>36598335
>> Thank you, Pruisa. It was a pleasure.

>>36598335
> Thank you, Pruisa. It was a pleasure.
It's just not Osyki if he isn't being charming.

>>36598335
> Thank you, Pruisa. It was a pleasure.

>>36598335
> Thank you, Lance Coporal.

>>36598335
> Thank you, Pruisa. It was a pleasure.

File: Osyki.jpg (119 KB, 731x1000)

119 KB JPG

[[Think I'll call things here for the evening folks. My internet is giving me issues, and I don't want to disconnect right in the middle of an important scene. I may be able to run a short session on Sunday during the day, so keep an eye on twitter. As always, thanks so much for playing and bearing with my occasional disconnects.

For those of you interested, I am working on putting together a "what if?" scenario with the events of thread 54. It should be ready for your reading pleasure next thread.

Have a great night!]]

File: 1375450903272.jpg (11 KB, 211x207)

11 KB JPG

>>36598675
Righto, thanks for running.

File: 1380843069006.jpg (59 KB, 725x291)

59 KB JPG

>>36598675
Sleep well Diarca. Thanks for running.

>>36598675
So it would be a timeline where we decided to fight the General? Sounds interesting.

Thanks for running, Diarca, this was a pretty cool (albeit ominous) chapter. See you next week.

>>36598774
Thread 54 was two sessions ago where we bro'd down with Boand. Thread 44 was the confrontation with Big Iron. I'd like to read that one too.

>>36598675
Thanks for running. Wonderful thread as always, Diarca.

>>36598918
Oh yeah. I should have noticed from, you know, the thread number for this one. Silly me.