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/tg/ - Traditional Games


File: Golem 1.jpg (103 KB, 849x515)
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I am Sief Atanor, and I suppose I can now claim the titles of Giantslayer and Sprigganslayer, albeit with more than a little help from my teacher.

The sun is rising over the forest, and I'll be glad to put the clearing and the looming, ominous shadow of the Spriggan's 'sacred tree' behind me. I pick my way back up into the cockpit, looking around at the huddled gathering of former sacrificial captives, it's going to be a long, slow crawl escorting them back to the road, slower even than dragging that lump of a giant in here with us.

While I doubt that any of the forest's smaller inhabitants would want to tangle with a pair of golems, we will have to remain vigilant all the same, the low races are not always renowned for their sanity or self-preservation instinct, and it's not impossible that they might attempt to drag off some of our charges.

“Everyone stick together, it's a long walk back,” I call out, the golem's systems amplifying my voice.

Something tells me none of the frightened, emaciated captives will be wandering off, I'm more worried about them collapsing on the way. Still, we can cross that bridge when we come to it.

(cont)
>>
>>39582065
The forest feels less malevolent now, though whether that's because I know that there is no spriggan lurking in the undergrowth plotting my death, or because we killed its so-called sacred tree, I don't know.

“We should send some people back to give all those bones in the clearing a proper burial, before it leads to other issues,” Paxton rumbles through the communicators.

“Other issues?”

“With the Spriggan gone and his sacrificial tree no longer dominating the forest's energies, an area so tainted with suffering could form into something dangerous. I doubt there's enough death there for a Warwight to form, but it could still give rise to smaller spirits of pain, or lure in scavengers from further afield.”

“I see, can I leave it to you to arrange?”

“Yes, it will be good to give that old priest at the shrine something to do, other than drinking away his offerings,” Paxton grunts.

I suppose if I have more questions for Paxton, now would be the time, it's a long walk back.

>(Write-in)
>Keep quiet and focus
>>
>>39582074
What does PAxton think about what we learned?
About the giants in Iquani territory having plotted the death of our mother?
About the meeting with the caravan and invitation to meet the Iquani prince?
About how we should break the news to our father, and how the nobility/whoeverthefuck have been doing things, planning for us to take care of this?
Otherwise, keep focus, and keep walking.
>>
>>39582074
>Keep quiet and focus
>>
>>39582074
Will it cost alot to repair the damages on our golems?
What does he think about the diplomatic convoy?
>>
>>39582074
>Keep quiet and focus
>>
Writing.
>>
Yeah! Intrigue! Golems! Smut!
>>
I glance over at Paxton's golem, while the damage to mine was minimal, his looks like it's barely holding together.

“Is it going to cost a lot, the repairs?”

“No, it won't be expensive, just take a long time. This old girl's been through a lot of fights, and more than a few battlefield jury-rigs, she isn't what she used to be.”

I suppose that means I won't be able to rely on Paxton's support for a while, still, hopefully the threat has passed, at least for the moment. I hope.

“I haven't heard your take on it yet, Paxton?”

“If what that giant said was true, and generally giants are too dumb to lie, then it sounds like the attack on your mother was no accident. If whoever orchestrated it was that determined, then after the assault failed...”

A long, awkward silence echoes through the cockpit, broken up only by the dull monotonous crunch of heavy golem footfalls through the undergrowth. If the assault failed, they would try something different. A sickness took her less than a year later, one that no physician could recognize or treat. Poison, or some low race curse.

“I don't know who would want to do such a thing, your mother was well-loved, a visionary of golemcraft. I also don't know how anyone who wanted to bring her harm could recruit giants, giants don't generally see us as things to parley or bargain with, just as food or passing entertainment.”

“The giants were from Iquani lands, do you think...”

“I doubt it, the Iquani lands are eight times the size of the empire, but sparsely populated. All manner of things, giants included, can lose themselves in the endless scrublands and deserts. We've always known that it's a haven to titans and other unpleasant things.”

(cont)
>>
>>39582639
I reach down, scooping a fallen tree out of our way, tossing it aside to allow the people passage. They are doing remarkably well so far, though I suspect I'll be carrying a few before we reach the road.

“Do you think the diplomatic envoy would know anything about this giant?”

“Probably, if you want to follow this up, you could do worse than speaking with a prince, especially a prince who may appreciate you saving his sworn brother.”

“Tristram won't like it.”

“True. I suppose the question is how badly you want to follow this up.”

My fingers dig into the armrests of the cockpit. I would love nothing more than to pursue this, but I still have duties to my lands too. Still, if I don't go I may offend the prince, which is no better.

Spirits, I still have to break the news to my father. I am not looking forward to that.

It is many hours later that we reach the road, a handful of exhausted people now resting on the palm of Raziel's upturned hand. To the south is Venser, where many of these people most likely hail from, where Anwa is currently awaiting the prince's arrival in a day or so. To the north is my family manor, where my father is most likely drinking and fucking himself into a stupor. The people could most likely be treated there as well.

So the question is, where do I go?

>Head north to the manor
>Head south to Venser
>Split up (who going where?)
>>
>>39582647
>Head north to the manor
>>
>>39582647
>Head north
get them treated and fed, to travel with them south after we chew out father
>>
>>39582647
Is there enough time to go home, then make it back to the arrival of the prince?
>>
>>39582707
Yes.
>>
>>39582707
>>39582721
Oh whoops, keep dropping my trip today for some reason.
>>
>>39582733
I say have Paxton take the people belonging to Venser there, we go back to the manor, talk with our father, then go back to the prince.
>>
>>39582647
>Send Paxton home
>Have Sief go to the envoy
>>
>>39582795
Actually, fuck that, just let's both head to the manor, we can take people to Venser afterwards if we must.
Tell the people what we're doing to not have them panic though.
>>
Back to the manor it is.

Writing.
>>
>>39582882
dropped your trip
>>
“Alright everyone, I know you're all tired, and many of you want to head home, but for the moment we're going to need you to accompany us back to the manor. We can provide you with food and water and have our physician take a look at you.”

I get very little in the way of a response, most of them too tired to really argue or even express a strong opinion on the matter. They fall into step with the golems as we start the long walk north.

Several hours pass uneventfully before the manor comes into view, the sight of our golems returning with a shuffling mass of dishevelled, weary people in tow drawing a small crowd of servants and staff.

“Do you need me here, Sief, I'd like to take my golem back to the workshop so Virgil can take a look at it,” Paxton asks.

“It's fine, you go, I'll handle things here,” I reply, popping open the cockpit, Raziel kneeling, allowing me to hop down from the cockpit to the knee to the ground.

Loren steps forward from the gaggle of servants, giving a slight bow.

“Lord Sief, it's good to see you well,” she smiles, rising, glancing past me at the crowd.

“Loren, these people have been through a lot, they're going to need food and water, and could you send someone to fetch the physician just to be on the safe side.”

“Of course, Lord Sief.”

Loren gets to work organizing the servants, as I find my thoughts drifting back to the dozens of unanswered questions gnawing at my mind.

(cont)
>>
>>39583056
“Lord Sief?”

I blink, focusing my eyes. It looks like the servants are bringing out bread and water for the people, and I see the stern, heavyset figure of Abner, the family physician, bustling about.

“Thank you Loren.”

I turn, heading back into the manor, the weight of today's events weighing down on me heavily. As I step inside, out of sight of the crowds, I let the tension in my limbs snap, slumping against the wall. It wouldn't do to let my people see my like this.

“I thought you looked even stiffer than usual. It's been a hard day, has it, Lord Sief?” Loren asks, and I curse inwardly as I jump at her sudden appearance. Spirits that woman is quiet when she wants to be.

>”It's nothing.”
>”That will be all, Loren.”
>”I'm exhausted...”
>Other (write-in)

>>39582909
Trip seems to vanish every time I post today, I don't know why.
>>
>>39583063
>"I'm exhausted... how about a neck rub?"
>>
>>39583063
>"Don't worry about it, Loren. Comes with the occupation, I suppose."
>>
>>39583063
>>39583086
this
>>
>>39583063
>”It's nothing.”
>>
>>39583063
>>”It's nothing.”
>>
>>39583086
this then >>39583088
>>
“I'm exhausted,” I sigh. I suppose there's no harm relaxing a little around Loren. I ache so much I almost ask for a massage, but there's no way I could do that. If the other servants see it, they're sure to talk, and if they talk, one of them will say something to my father, and I do not even want to imagine the smug look on his face if he found out.

I jump again as I feel a warm hand on the back of my neck, Loren's fingers expertly kneading out the knots and strains. I know I should stop her, but it just feels so damned good.

“I know it can be hard for you, Lord Sief, no-one should have to deal with all the pressure you do, not at your age.”

I am painfully aware of how close she is behind me, the warmth of her body radiating onto my back, her hand is joined by a second as they slip a little lower, smoothing out the bunched muscles of my neck.

“I'm not a child, Loren, I can handle it,” I sigh.

“I know, Lord Sief, I know just how grown up you are, still, you don't have to shoulder everything.”

Her breath tickles the back of my ear as she speaks, bringing all kinds of unseemly images to mind, but I am not my father, I am capable of controlling my urges. I shake my head, placing a hand on hers, brushing her off gently.

“Don't worry about it, Loren. Comes with the occupation, I suppose.”

I hear her step back, and the warmth fades as I return to my senses, making me very aware of how hard my heart is beating.

“I'm sorry, Lord Sief, I didn't mean to overstep my boundaries.”

I half-turn, mustering a smile as I see Loren's worried, flushed face.

“Nothing to apologize for, I appreciate the concern. Anyway, I need to go deal with something unpleasant, wish me luck,” I sigh, Loren giving another slight bow as I turn and walk away towards my father.

(cont)
>>
>>39583487
My neck and shoulders feel remarkably improved, Loren has some real talent for massage, it seems. Of course while the stiffness in my neck may have faded, Loren's attention has had led to some unfortunate stiffness elsewhere. Thank the spirits I'm not wearing tighter trousers.

I come to a stop in front of my father's door, the thought of having to deal with him culling any lingering excitement I may have felt from recent events.

Here goes nothing.

I push open the door, and am once again assaulted by the whorehouse stench of my father's chambers. Well, at least the unconscious naked people have wandered off since yesterday, although right now my father appears to be playing some sort of drinking game with two of the servant girls, one which also involves stripping off, by the looks of it.

“Father, we have something to discuss.”

He barely glances up from the table. “Mmh, later, busy.”

“Now. Privately,” I snap, making the servant girls jump, starting to rise, before my father stops them with a raised hand.

“Later, we're in the middle of a game here, and I'm winning. Go... do whatever it is you do when you aren't harassing your poor father,” he sighs, waving me a way.

I spent the past day fighting for my life, and I wonder if he even noticed I was gone. I growl, slamming a fist against the door frame.

“This won't wait, everyone who isn't an Atanor, out of the room, now,” I shout.

I'm not proud of myself for losing my temper, the poor servant girls can hardly reject my father's advances, but still, I am not in the mood for this.

That gets them scampering away, anyway, gathering their clothes and fleeing past me with some mumbled apologies.

“Well great, thanks for that. Funny though, I thought I was in charge round here, not my ingrate son,” my father grumbles, sweeping the cards onto the floor as he picks up the bottle from the table and takes a swig.

I bite back a retort, I came here for a reason, after all. So how do I approach this.

>Write-in
>>
>>39583495
Direct to the point?
Not much we can do to dress this up.
>>
>>39583542
Yeah there isn't really a way to do that.

Backing
>>
>>39583542
Seems reasonable.
>>
>>39583542
yih
>>
Writing.
>>
I suppose the best thing I can do is just say this flat out, before I get drawn into another argument. I walk forward, placing a hand on a chair, contemplating momentarily sitting, before I think better of it.

“Paxton and I dealt with the problem in the forest.”

My father just shrugs, taking another swig from his bottle.

“I'm sure Tristram will be happy to hear it, why not go bug him.”

I can feel a headache coming on already.

“Just... listen. It was a pair of giants, working with a Spriggan.”

“Yeah, it happens, we are right next to the Iquani border,” he sighs, squinting as he peers down into the now empty bottle.

“They came here looking for their brother, Bonesnapper.”

That finally gets his attention, my father putting the bottle down on the table, bloodshot eyes now fixed on me.

“They knew he'd come here, because he was told to come here, to kill her.”

“Bullshit. Giants can barely remember one day to the next, no way they're going to be coming all the way here hunting someone. I'd appreciate if you didn't dredge up bad memories playing out some stupid fantasies.”

Well, I got a reaction out of him, albeit an angry one more than anything else.

“Paxton can verify my story. The giant we interrogated said Bonesnapper was sent here by his mother, that he was told it was important.”

My father's shoulders slump, if anything this feels worse than seeing his usual drunk and irreverent behaviour.

(cont)
>>
>>39583927
“But why? She never hurt anyone, she didn't have any enemies.”

“I don't know, but I want to find out. Maybe we can finally get some answers. I want to go speak with the Iquani prince, find out about this giant.”

“Getting answers won't bring her back, Sief. Are you going to go running off on some dumb quest for revenge?”

His voice has shrunk to a mumble, he looks deflated, worn down. It's... painful to watch.

“I can't just forget about it. If she was killed, if there was something larger at play here, I want to know.”

My father sits in silence, head down, all his earlier energy gone. He looks small, weak.

“I have to find out the truth.”

I turn to walk away, barely catching the quiet voice behind me.

“Just promise me you won't die. You're all I've got left of her.”

“I'm not going to die.”

I close the door behind me, only now aware of how my hands are shaking. I feel sick, a lump in my throat. Dealing with my father is never a pleasant experience, but the feeling this time, it's far, far worse.

I take a few moments to calm myself, glancing out through a window. The sun still high in the sky, it's early afternoon I suppose, and I haven't eaten yet today, though the tension in my belly is keeping me from feeling my hunger.

So what now, I could go check on Paxton, or head straight down to Venser to meet Anwa and if I'm lucky, the Iquani prince, or something else perhaps.

>Check on Paxton
>Go to Venser
>Other (write-in)
>>
>>39583944
>Go to Venser, send for Loren to bring lunch to the meeting
>>
>>39583944
>Go to Venser
>>
>>39583944
>>Go to Venser
>>
>>39583944
>Go to Venser

On the road again
>>
>>39583944
>Check on Paxton
>>
Writing.
>>
>>39583944
Damn, missed a chance for a sobering snap back insult of him being what we've left of mom, and it sickens us
>>
No time like the present to head for Venser, and I would sorely like to put some distance between myself and the manor right now. I stop by the kitchens, picking up something to eat on the journey. Even with a golem, it's a long way to Venser, and I'd rather not deal with a foreign prince on an empty stomach.

I head back out to the grounds where I left Raziel, one of the servants asking if they can put the people up for the night, and let them head out first thing tomorrow. I suppose we don't lack for free space after my father got rid of most of the house guard and servants.

Nodding to the servant, I climb back up into the cockpit, the familiar, comforting warmth of Raziel surrounding me.

The walk back down to Venser is long and tedious without Paxton for company, still, the silence does a lot to clear my head, and I stop halfway there to eat. By the time I arrive at Venser the sky has started to grey, the sun having just sunk beneath the horizon.

The town is fairly quiet, save for the lights and noise of the town inn some distance away. I see a golem, Tristram's most likely, kneeling and inactive by the mayor's house. It certainly suits the knight, long, thin limbs, a hunched, predatory posture. One arm ends in a hooked blade, the other in thin, grasping talons. I suppose working for High Lord Vere has its advantages, it's not often that a knight not born of a noble house gets a custom-designed golem. I can't say I particularly care for the design though, the sharp, inhuman angles of it feels distasteful, for a creation supposed to symbolize human strength and ingenuity.

>Head to the inn, Anwa will most likely be there.
>Head to the mayor's house, report back to Tristram and Thurstan.
>>
>>39584194
>Being a dick to the pathetic drunk.
How does it feel to be an asshole, anon?
>>
>>39584426
>Head to the mayor's house, report back to Tristram and Thurstan.
>>
>>39584426
>Head to the mayor's house, report back to Tristram and Thurstan.

Let's get this out of the way
>>
>>39584426
>>Head to the mayor's house, report back to Tristram and Thurstan.
>>
Writing.
>>
So out of curiosity, are people close to us really unaware that mom was creating some super golem?
I mean, is narrative convention in fact the only reason it seems so very obvious to the readers or are our father and Paxton actually that bad at this sort of thing?
>>
>>39584698
Just saw this.Could you put a link to the archvie in the OP in the future? Makes it far more accessible to new readers.
>>
Well, I suppose I have to go see that miserable old spider. At least it can't be worse than my meeting with my father.

Raziel strides down the street while I keep a close eye on the ground, one can never be too careful in these urban areas, last thing I need to round out this day is to step on someone. A few people come out to watch, gawking from their doorsteps. I bring Raziel to a stop in front of the mayor's house, setting him down on the opposite side from Tristram's golem. Hopping out, I make my way to the door, knocking.

A little while later a large and rather sweaty woman opens the door, Thurstan's wife Paula, if I remember correctly. She gives a wide, beaming smile and an awkward bow as she recognizes me.

“Lord Sief, what a pleasant surprise. Come in, come in.”

I give a slight smile of my own, stepping in through the door, where I am bustled through to the living room in short order, barraged with offers of food and drink. Once again I find Thurstan looking up at me with an expression of grave relief, sat opposite the ramrod straight, bony figure of Sir Tristram, who fixes his hollow stare on me. I can't imagine that being stuck in a room with that man for any length of time is a pleasant experience.

“Lord Sief, hello, welcome, so glad to see you, please, sit, would you like to stay for dinner?” Thurstan rises, shoving a clammy hand into mine, shaking it firmly and with more than a hint of desperation.

>Stay for dinner
>“Sorry Thustan, I'm not staying long.”

>>39584836
Oh, whoops, my bad.

Well, here it is, though I suspect you've found it on your own by now: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive.html?tags=golem+knight
>>
>>39584866
Thanks. Actually, I didn’t have the link yet. I assigned a high probablity to you providing a link despite me not asking for it, so I just waited.
>>
>>39584866
>Stay for dinner
>>
>>39584866
>“Sorry Thustan, I'm not staying long.”
>>
>>39584866
>“Sorry Thustan, I'm not staying long.”
>>
>>39584866
>Stay for dinner
>>
>>39584866
>Stay for dinner

Can't hurt right?
>>
>>39584866
>Stay for dinner

Lets not be a dick to the mayor.
Besides, we kind of have to put up with people like these if we want our family's rep to be less shit again.
>>
Looks like you're staying then.

Writing.
>>
“I could stay for a little while, thank you Thustan.”

The feeling of relief from the mayor is palpable, and I figure I had best steer the conversation away before he starts crying.

“I'm sure the two of you will be happy to know that the problem is resolved. We recovered most of the missing people, who are currently resting in spare rooms at the manor, they'll be back tomorrow.” I explain, taking a seat in one of the spare chairs, Thustan's wife appearing with hot tea the moment I leave my feet.

“This is wonderful news, Lord Sief. Some of those were people my wife and I knew personally, we've been very worried,” Thustan beams, taking a cup of tea of his own, Tristram giving a curt shake of the head as he's offered one in turn.

“So this means that the cause of the disappearances has been dealt with, I take it? We are very short on time,” Tristram asks, unblinking stare boring into me.

Sounds like Anwa didn't see fit to tell Tristram about the fight with the giants, or our conversation after it. So how much do I want to say?

>Bare basics: fought giants, fought spriggan, rescued people, came back
>Detailed account: omitting your conversation with Anwa
>Detialed account: tell him everything
>>
>>39585290
>Detailed account: omitting your conversation with Anwa
So there I was...
>>
>>39585290
>Detialed account: tell him everything
>>
>>39585290
>>Detailed account: omitting your conversation with Anwa
>>
>>39585290
>Detailed account: omitting your conversation with Anwa
>>
>>39585290
>Detailed account: omitting your conversation with Anwa
>>
I'm kind of of the opinion we should tell him everything since this is kind of a delicate political situation we'ves stumbled into.
Showing up later unannounced because we couldn't risk refusing Anwa again is kind of a shit idea, if we've somehow managed to insult Anwa by refusing already we kind of need to know about it and as problematic as Tristram is both working together would be best if we want to navigate through this mess without ending up in deep shit.
>>
>>39585290
>>Detailed account: omitting your conversation with Anwa
>>
>>39585290
>>Detailed account: omitting your conversation with Anwa
>>
Writing.
>>
I go into a detailed account of the events of the past two days, changing details slightly to miss out Anwa and the Iquani caravan, and the parts of the interrogation of the giant relating to my family, which is none of Tristram's business.

Tristram sits stock still as I speak, while Thustan nods along enthusiastically, even making appropriate gasps and sounds of surprise at dramatic moments.

When I finish, Tristram rearranges his hands, bony fingers lacing together, the most movement I've seen from him since I got here.

“Good. It is unfortunate that the Iquani cannot properly police their side of our border, though I suppose that is to be expected of such a careless people. The High Lord will be pleased that there are to be no complications.”

“You did fantastic work, Lord Sief, exceptional. Why I remember when I was a young man and the forests were still riddled with all manner of nastiness, your father, and your grandfather before him, they put the fear into those wretched spriggans. Following in a proud family tradition,” Thurstan nods, clapping his hands together.

I spot a near inperceptable twitch in Tristram's eye as Thurstan sings my family's praises. I'm not aware exactly what my father did to get on his bad side, and I doubt this would be a good time to ask.

(cont)
>>
>>39586043
Fortunately, Paula picks that moment to appear and usher everyone through for dinner, venison caught by their nephew hunting in the free forests on our southern border, as Thustan is eager to explain. While Tristram picks at his food disinterestedly, Thurstan holds court on recent matters.

“...so then the two of them started arguing over the cow. Pure foolishness, of course it was out behind the Bowyer family's barn, but then the grass out the back has always been an area of some contention between the two families, ever since...”

Well, the venison is good, but the conversation is painfully uninteresting, I suppose I could try to steer it towards something a little more invigorating, or I could just finish my meal and make my excuses to leave.

>Imperial Politics
>The Iquani
>Other (write-in)

>Just finish the meal and escape
>>
>>39586060
>>Imperial Politics
>>
>>39586060
>The Iquani
"speaking of contentious boarders do you ever wish it was something nice, like a cow, that would cross over from Iquani?"
>>
>>39586060
>Imperial Politics
>>
>>39586060
>>Imperial Politics
>>
>>39586060
>The Iquani
>>
>>39586060
>>Imperial Politics
>>
Aha!
I return before session ends!
Sief shouldn't have stayed for dinner and just told his story imo, we came here to meet the Iquani priest, after all.
>>39586060
>>The Iquani
>>
Writing.
>>
>>39586467
It should be fine not like he's going to get kidnapped or anything while we're here r-right?
>>
It takes some time to cut in on Thustan's monopoly on the evening's conversation, but eventually I spot my opportunity, a momentary silence as the mayor pauses for breath.

“Have you heard anything about how things have been going in the heartland? I haven't heard a great deal recently.”

“Unfortunately, important news rarely makes it out to smaller, provincial frontier fiefs,” Tristram comments, prodding at his mostly untouched meal.

“Oh, well of course every eye is on the capital now. The Emperor, spirits watch over him, is still not in the best of health, and many suspect that it won't be long before he retires from active rule and lets his eldest son take charge of the bulk of imperial matters... or perhaps his second son. We'll have to wait and see I suppose.”

“The second son has no interest in ruling, and it would be most irregular for the Emperor to place him in a more prominent role than his eldest sibling. This dispute is nothing more than the fanciful creation of people with too much time on their hands,” Tristram states, a harsher edge to his voice than even his usual clipped tones.

Thurstan takes a hankerchief from his pocket, blotting away the beads of sweat on his forehead, clearing his throat.

“W-well, I wouldn't be able to say for certain. I've never even seen the capital, or the Emperor or his two eldest sons. Nothing wrong with a little harmless speculation though, as long as it doesn't get carried too far.”

Thurstan gives an awkward chuckle, eyes looking to me for salvation once more.

“So, Tristram, I suppose working for High Lord Vere you've had more experience with the imperial family?” I ask, trying to once again save the panicking mayor.

(cont)
>>
>>39586754
“I have personally met the Emperor's second son, and his third daughter, during the course of my duties, yes.”

“Prince Titus and Princess Karyna. Goodness, that must have been quite an honor,” Thustan chimes in, nodding a little too hard.

“Prince Titus is a wise and insightful young man, and one for which I have a great deal of respect, as do most people who meet him. Princess Karyna is also an... intelligent and characterful individual.” Tristram continues, finally giving up the pretense of eating and placing his fork down on the plate.

“Is Princess Karyna still out touring the borders? It would be rather exciting if she paid us a visit.”

“It is unlikely, I understand she is focusing her attentions on the northern border, perhaps a matter relating to her fiancee, the eldest son of one of the more powerful northern lords, though I don't much care for speculation.”

Dinner seems to be drawing to a close, so perhaps now would be the time to make my excuses and escape, unless I still have something else I want to talk about.

>(Write-in)

>No, thank them and take your leave
>>
>>39586739
I mean.
He could just, you know, leave.
>>39586778
>>No, thank them and take your leave
Be polite about it.
>>
>>39586778
>>No, thank them and take your leave
>>
>>39586778
>(Write-in)

Ask Thursten if he'd be willingly to spar with us sometime
>>
>>39586778
>>No, thank them and take your leave
>>
>>39586890
You want to ask the overweight old mayor to spar?
>>
>>39586778
>No, thank them and take your leave
>>
>>39586908
Yes
Shit I meant Tristram I got them confuse for a moment
>>
>>39586778
>No, thank them and take your leave
>>
Writing
>>
“Well, it's been a pleasure, but I'm afraid I must be on my way. Thank you for the meal, Paula, Thurstan. Sir Tristram, I wish you all the best with the diplomatic envoy, and perhaps if you have a spare moment some time, we could spar-”

Tristram raises a hand, cutting me off.

“I'm afraid my duties leave me no time for frivolity. I will however see to it that news of your timely resolution of this issue is passed on to High Lord Vere.”

I tried, anyway. I rise from the table, Thurstan rising to give me another clammy handshake, thanking me profusely for staying for dinner, leading me out towards the door.

“If you ever want to come visit again, Lord Sief, don't hesitate, it's always a great pleasure to see you.”

“Thank you Thurstan, I'm afraid I'm rather busy at the moment, but if I can find time, I'll be sure to stop by,” I smile, eventually managing to extricate my hand from Thurstan's sweaty but surprisingly secure grip.

Only one more stop to make, Anwa, the Iquani prince, and if all goes well, through him, some answers.

>End of Thread
>>
Thanks for playing.

I'm stepping out for about an hour or so, but if anyone has any questions, feel free to post them and I'll reply when I return.
>>
>>39587289
Thanks for the Thread Lordy catch you next week
>>
>>39587289
Thanks for the sun, mate.
Glad to see Sief is still keeping what's important i.e. not giving in to his carnal urges in sight.
>>
>>39587646
For Now.
>>
>>39587289
Are you a pleb who prefers chocolate milk, or are you a patrician who knows that pure milk is the best?
>>
Okay, looks like there's no questions, so I will see you all next weekend, be sure to check out the twitter for exact times:
>https://twitter.com/BrightTegu
Yeah, realised I also forgot to link that in my OP post.

Thread archived here.
>http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive.html?tags=Golem%20Knight%20Quest
>>
>>39588814
I'm British, therefore chocolate milk for me will always be a substandard alternative which cannot be put in tea.
>>
>>39588848
Haha, good to know I was right to trust you!
Just for prosperity, here's a slightly lewd question.
I'm not certain what the weather/climate is like in the manor, so how does Sief handle morning wood? Does he tell the servant not to come in in the morning? Does he ask to be woken up from outside the door? Does he sleep in thick enough covers that his morning wood isn't immediately obvious and he can let the servant in once he's awake and has positioned himself correctly? And does he just wait for it to go away, or has he learned the "flexing the thigh muscles and thinking of other things like mathematics" trick yet?
>>
>>39588949
It's a fairly cool climate, being on the northern end of the eastern frontier as his lands are, so his covers are usually thick enough to hide morning wood if he positions them carefully.

That said, most servants knock on the door, it's just Loren that sometimes comes in without knocking.
>>
>>39589092
>That said, most servants knock on the door
Good, as it should be.
>it's just Loren that sometimes comes in without knocking.
Damn you Loren, you and your massage skills and occasional disregard for lordly privacy!
I kinda wish we had an older servant who was our nanny or something to have a supporting maternal figure, but eh, I guess Loren will do for the supporter in the staff.
>>
>>39589139
Loren was your mother's handmaiden, she's got about 15 or so years on you.
>>
>>39589162
Ah, that's basically what I was talking about, thanks for the clarification.
>>
>>39589230
She's practically an older sister to us, who Hasn't fucked our dad.
so she's top of the food chain.
>even though she's the only named avalible women we've seen so far
>>
>>39589684
oh we are so going to lay with her
>>
>>39590217
pls no
>>
>>39590227
pls yes, she gives such good massages and we already kind of look towards her like that
>>
>>39590254
Not everyone has to be lewded, anon.
Well anyway, that's still quite a ways off at least.
I just hope you will at least wait for her to initiate.
>>
>>39590576
Did you somehow miss her almost doing so in this very thread?
>>
>>39590712
The key word is almost.
And besides, Sief isn't comfortable with lewdness yet, she will have to initiative once he is ready for it.
>>
>>39590576
She did initiate anon, and she's the only one we've been remotely lewd with so far, we're not lewding it up with anyone else so all your points are invalid.



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