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–--
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. You have returned home from your brief sojourn in Eluneia Alastacia one ally richer, and with a substantially upgraded water spirit besides. Now the healer's apprentice has asked you to accompany for an evening stroll.

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

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

The Cast Thus Far / Binder's Log: http://pastebin.com/VsJpEUx3

Ask: ask.fm/DiarcaEXE

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

Quest Twitter: @TotemistQuest]]

>>43371063
>Northwest along the fields.

>>43371063
> Northwest along the fields.

We have business in the mountains that we might get pestered about, and the brush seems more risky. So... Peaceful walk along the fields.

>>43371063
>AW͔͖̓̿͛̐A̾̀ͥ͑̏̈́̽͠Ȳ̖͇̺̳̹̙̬̋͑̅ͣ ̬̞̬̰͖͒ͦ͗̽I͇̦̻͑̈́N̬̊̑̈T̹̜͌ͫͯ̐͆̌́O̲͉̠̗ ̀͏̜̟̹͔T͕̖͓̹̳̒Ȟ̈́ͪͨȆ͖̱̠̝̮̹̼ͯ̾̎̏͡ ͔ͥ̿V̼̣̣͓̰͇ͣ͐ͩ͜O̗̙̬̱̎͐̈́͞Ị͙̦͉͚͚̣̋͒ͪͪ̒D͍̪͕͎̗̖́ͣ̿̔̈́͗͟ ̱͎͈͑ͮͧ̃̏̓B̥͙̼̪̬̦̫ͤ̔͗̊E̢̅ͬͣT̟̪͇͍̦̾ͣWE͖̠̓ͤ̂̉̌͆E̞̦̳͇̥ͬ̍̉͒ͅN̖̝̼͈̥̲͌ͨ͌̓̐ ̨̙͇̤̻̾ͫͬ̌̑̾͆W̹ͧ̐̐ͧͣ̉O͔̘͇̙ͪ̒̏̔ͪ͐ͅR̩̉ͮ̍ͦL͈͛D̟͔S̪̓̐̽

>>43371063
Woo Totemist Quest!.
>> Northwest along the fields.
seems least likely for !FUN! times.
Also, while we shouldn't need it this week, here's an online version of the Binder's Spreadsheet. Everyone can only comment for now. link: https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/1nclxsghdlRE4di7cLT5UkRZhlhOSyXcDqxqvVzsVg6c/edit?usp=sharing

>>43371223
You have Jewel of the Maelstrom on there twice and neither of them are in the correct spot.

>>43371063
> Northwest along the fields.
A bit boring, but it's safe. Besides, it's not the scenery that we're going to be looking at.

>>43371063
>> Northwest along the fields.

You take in a slow breath to center yourself. This needn't be an exhausting, terrifying affair. You've known this girl practically all your life. She obviously likes you, if her sudden kiss earlier in the day was any indicator. You loop an arm around her shoulders, gesturing toward the door.

“I was thinking we could walk along the long grass,” you tell her. “It should be a little less crowded than the Brush at this time of night, and as lovely as your dress is, I don't think it's quite suited for mountain climbing.”

She warms to your touch, leaning her head against your arm. “Last I recall, you didn't mind me climbing ahead of you in a skirt, Osyki.”

You grin. “Guilty as charged.”

She giggles. There is a moment of charged silence.

“That sounds nice. Let's go.”

She ducks out from beneath your arm only long enough to collect a small traveling pack from the corner of the room. She slings it over her shoulder, then beckons for you to follow at the door.

The moon has just crested above the treetops as you step outside to join her. The last light of day still glows from beyond the horizon, lighting the direction you walk in broad artist's strokes of blue and slate. The village retreats behind you in short order—the Slayers at the North Gate give you a thumbs-up as you pass.
(cont.)

>>43371544

You lead Elana up along the rolling hills that dot the base of the Ikrin range. The moon's light is strong in this season as the days grow short. Silver light plays in waves across the tops of the tall grass below you, a quicksilver ocean rendered in vegetative pointillism. Elana's steps are slow and meandering. She's clearly not headed in any particular direction, following your lead as you walk the path toward Pointsmar's eventual home.

She asks about your trip to the city, and you tell her in short snippets of the bustling kingdom. Her eyes go round when you tell her of the stone spires of the Noble's Quarter, and you see a dreamy look overtake her when you tell her of the ethereal atmosphere of the Church of the Lady Argent.

“It sounds wonderful,” she says. Her voice is small, and she leans against you—for warmth? Comfort?—as the two of you make your way northwest.

> It was. I'll have to take you some day.
> Hopefully soon you'll hear it from the Eluneians themelves.
> It's special, but not as special as home.
> Write-in

>>43371557
>> It was. I'll have to take you some day.
though
> It's special, but not as special as home.

>>43371557
> It was. I'll have to take you some day.

>>43371557
>> It was. I'll have to take you some day.
> It's special, but not as special as home.

>>43371557
>> It was. I'll have to take you some day.

>>43371223
> expecting the date to go off without a hitch
>not remembering last Halloween thread

>>43371730
Fuck, I totally forgot what day it is. Yeah, something spooky is probably going to happen. It better not be Pumpkin-Headed Jack again.

>>43371557
> It was. I'll have to take you some day
however
> It's special, but not as special as home

>>43371778

Hey, if the elana isn't a monster this time, I'll chalk it up as a win.

“It was truly an experience, but truth be told there's nowhere I would rather be than home.” The two of you are sitting on a tall hill overlooking the gently waving grasslands below. Elana leans against you, her legs tucked to one side.

“Really?” She seems genuinely surprised. “Why?”

You shrug, careful not to disrupt her balance against you. “Grisoch is where my heart is. It's the place that raised me. It's where my happiest memories are. Ultimately, when I think of contentment and peace, I think of everything packed behind those walls.”

You gesture to the crest of your village's fortifications in the distance.

“Do you know what I mean?”

She nods. “I understand,” she tells you. “It's hard not to feel some sense of... sanctuary in Grisoch. Like nothing in the outside could get to you. A sense of safety.” She taps your chest with one finger. “I think we have you to thank for that. But...”

“But?” you prompt her.

She shrugs. “In the end, it's just a little town on the back end of a much larger world. I worry that I'll be like the healer, Osyki. She's never wandered far from the village. She doesn't understand anything of the outside, and she doesn't want to.”

You wrap an arm around her, pulling her close. She lets out a small gasp of surprise.

“I think you're already ahead of the curve on that,” you tell her. “You're the cleverest person I know. One day I'll take you to Eluneia and you'll take that Noble's Quarter by storm.”

She looks up at you. The atmosphere shifts between you. There is a look of very real determination in her eyes.

“Promise?”

> Promise. Very soon.
> Some day.
> Don't look so serious, Elana.
> Write-in

>>43371862
>Promise.
Just promise. Not soon since we get shit thrown on our plate on a constant basis.

>>43371862
> Some day.
> Write-in
We can't promise it will be soon. We still have a LOT of things to sort out, not all of which are under our control. But the moment it becomes possible, we'll take her there.

>>43371902
This.

>>43371862
>promise. very soon.

She shouldn't have to stay cooped in the village just because an eldritic abomination wants to kill her.

>>43371862
>>43371902
This

>>43371999
She doesn't have to, it's just a good idea; on account that being eaten by eldritch abominations is not conductive to living.

You nod, doing your best to keep eye contact with her. You would love to have her at your side when you go out and about, but with the Magus sniffing for her like a pack of bloodcrazed raptors you're hesitant to make any firm promises about the short term.

“One day,” you tell her. “I promise. You'll get to see the world on your own terms.”

She breaks her gaze away from yours with a nearly palpable sound. Her shoulders slump.

“One day,” she echoes.

Another beat of silence stretches out into infinity.

You give her a squeeze, trying to gently shake her from her reverie. “Thank you for inviting me out tonight,” you tell her. “I missed you.”

She nods, still staring into the middle distance. “I missed you too. It seems like you're away more than you're home recently.”

“You're not wrong,” you tell her. “I feel like it's my responsibility to see us equipped with the best resources we can get. That means going out and about.”

She nods. “I just wish I could help,” she says a little forlornly.

“You -do- help. Every time I've stumbled home bleeding from who knows where you've patched me up in record time. I'd be six feet under in a plot next to Ayren by now if it weren't for you.”

She shrugs. “I just wish I could be there to prevent you from getting hurt at all.”

You chuckle. “I appreciate the thought, but that's really part of my job description. What could you do?”

She glances over her shoulder at you.

“If that awful sorcerer wants my eyes so badly, there must be something incredible locked away in them. What if I learned to use it?”

> That is a -terrible- idea. Ayren sealed that for a reason.
> I don't think it's worth the risk of you being discovered.
> If anyone could do it, you could.
> But then you'd put me out of a job!
> Write-in

>>43372257
>> If anyone could do it, you could.

>>43372257
> Write-in
"Ayren's ghost told me not to unseal them. He didn't go into specifics, but he implied that there were some pretty bad potential consequences. That said, he's not infallible. There could be a way to use it safely. If you want, I'll start investigating it."

>>43372257
>Maybe but, it's probably a good idea to know a bit more before we start messing with the seals.

>>43372345
>>43372257
Support.

>>43372257
Pls to have magical girl girlfriend companion. We need allies that travel woth us and also that would be badass

>>43372257
> I don't think it's worth the risk of you being discovered.
> Write-in
We could try training her in Totemism, maybe? It could be that the seal keeping her from connecting with everything everywhere also cuts off her spirit energy, but it's worth a try.

>>43372257
>>43372345

This.
we needed some more on our to do list anyways.

>>43372470
I imagine the healer will strangle Osyki if he tries to steal her apprentice.

One the one hand, the idea of Elana at your side adventuring with you is immensely appealing. She has a point: if the Magus is devoting so much of his resources to tracking her down, her abilities must be truly powerful. Having that on your side could significantly ease the burden of defense that lies upon your shoulders, not to mention expand the possibilities for the future. Your mind paints a picture of her dashing across the mountains, hurling bolts of multi-colored light with a look of determination fixed on her face. However...

“I have it on good authority that those seals were put into place as much for the village's safety as your own,” you tell her. “The night we spent in Boand's pond I communed with Ayren's spirit. He didn't go into any specifics, but there were implications of pretty severe consequences for messing with his work.”

She deflates at your side, eyes plummeting toward the earth. She doesn't draw away from you, but you can sense the palpable frustration she feels as her fingers gather bunches of her dress into a balled fist.

“With that said,” you amend, “Ayren was far from infallible. I've already broken a good number of his rules, and I don't see any reason why I can't do some research on whatever powers he's sealed away from you. We just need to approach this intelligently. Better to know what it is we're looking to unlock before we twist the key, right?” You crane your neck forward, trying your best to catch her eye.
(cont.)

She looks up at you. It's unusual to see her wear such a guarded expression. “You mean it?” she asks, biting her lower lip. “You'll help?” There is a tension to her posture, tiptoeing on the edge of something like hope.

“There's not a thing I wouldn't do if you asked me to help, Elana. I can't promise any immediate results, but I'll do my best.”

Her guard shatters as a smile creeps its way across her face. She turns in place, pressing herself against you. “I knew I could count on you Osyki,” she tells you, pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek. “And I know that you're busy. I don't want you to run yourself ragged. I just—“

“You want to help,” you finish for her. She nods, cheeks blossoming pink.

“More than anything. I don't want you to face down the world alone anymore.” Her fingers trace the scaled pattern of the Tyrant's Tabard uncertainly.

Hesitating.

> “I'm never alone.”
> “That's how I operate best.”
> Stay silent.
> Write-in

>>43372345
I suspect she's going to get hung up on that "Ayren's ghost" thing.

>>43372718
>> “I'm never alone.”

>>43372718
>> “I'm never alone.”

>>43372718
> Write-in
"Some things are worth it. But I'd love to have you there, all the same."

Where is everyone today?

>>43372718
>"I’d like that."
Simple, honest, and avoiding refuting her argument directly.

>>43372997
dunno, it's really slow for a friday.

>>43372718
>> “I'm never alone.”

W̧̜͈ͣͬ̉̉͛͛ͪe̦̠̠ͮ ̨̫̘̫͈̭̠ͯͭͦs̶̝̺͕̤̣̰ͣ̌͂͐̐́h̛͕̟̞ͧͥ̽̿̉͋̓a͍͔͕͎̹l̶̮̪ͤ̑l͉͍̺̬̣͉͚̃͆̅ ̭̰̖̝͎̔̓̾̌̊ả̪̇̾͌͆̍̋ͅl̸̘̱̥̠̞̒̉̌ͦw͔̯̱̻a̡ys̻̔ͬ ͎̣͉̘ͬ͐ͧ̓̽ͩͮͅb̴͓͔̺̞̹̜̭̉͐̿ȅ͕̱̠̰͎̟͊ ̶̪h͍̲̓ͯ̋ͧḙ̲̐̇ͯ̃͑̌͂r̜̩̰̈́͒̋ͅẹ̵̹͎̽ ͚̼͍͚̥͛t̬͓̭̩ͦ͂ŏ̠͈̰̲͚̌̊ ̙̱̬̙͇̫̤́͑̾̌̅͢ģ̳̠̼͈ͤu̦iͦ̈̌ͩ҉̝̼͕̖̜̝̠d̡͖̥̱̖͓̝̅̊͌͐̌ȇ̡̖̦͂̇ ̵̭͎̱̞̗́̃̾͑̽́̀ÿ̱́̓͂̑̔͂̚ŏ͍̖̤̿̂͋̏̕u͉̹̤͚̗͈ͬȑ̼͉͎̝̟̟͖ ̸͍̈ͬh̩͙̜͙̻̤̓́ͪ̓͗͐̃̀ḁ̖̄ͥ̊ͩn̛̬͉̦͎̍ͬͫd̹̩̹̃ͨ̇̉ ̗ͣ̆̍̔̾͛ͧͅa̟̗̰͚͔̱ͫṋ̾̂ͥd͎̥̊ͫ̒͞ ̝͈̟͔̅m͚̪̻̤͔͍̞ịn̘̻͇̭̩̫̦̈ͤ̊̀d̆̐̉҉̭̹͎.̭̣͞ ̛̰̲̱͍̹͒ͧ̂͛ͅ ̭̠͎̝̊̅̐̓́̎́A̖̱͌̾͋̅ͥ̑̋l͇̲̟̞̮̽ͪ̆̀ͭ͝w̛̻̒a̡͍̗͎̗ͫͅy͐͒̄͆͑ͧ̾s̤̲̣ͪ́̐.͍͎͇̟͈̬̓ͅ ̤̱̹͍̣̙̈̔͒͆̓̅͟ ̴̺̞͇̫̍̎̉

>>43372718
> Write-in
"Well, I'm never TRULY alone. I always carry the spirits I've bested or befriended with me. But the idea of being able to share it all with you? It is rather tempting..."

Makes her feel a little better about us going out into the world and also implies a deeper desire for commitment.

>>43372997
bein sleepy
> “I'm never alone.”
"one of the perks of being a Totemist."

You can't help but smile at her earnest affection and concern. You put your hand to hers, stilling her wandering fingers.

“I'm never really alone,” you tell her. “Wherever I go, I go flanked by a host of my friends and allies. But...”

Your hand wanders up, brushing a stray lock of curled hair from her cheek. You tuck the errant strand behind her ear.

“I can't say I don't like the idea of you among them.”

A bright giggle bubbles up over her lips, and she darts forward to kiss you again. “I can see why Eluneia was so eager to make a deal with you. You must have charmed the pants off of them,” she says teasingly.

“Pants remained intact,” you say, your hand raised in the air as a solemn oath.

She glances down to the Velociraptor Greaves that you seem to perpetually wear these days. She doesn't say anything, but you can see the blush bloom brighter in her cheeks. She rests her head against your chest, sighing a noise of soft contentment.

The two of you sit in the waxing moonlight together. Though you don't mark the time, it feels like a pleasant eternity, moments marked only by displays of tender affection.

Eventually you see her shiver. You drop your cloak from your shoulders onto hers, and she pulls away from your lips long enough to murmur quiet thanks.

“It's getting late,” she says reluctantly. “I should probably get back.”

> Stay with me a while longer. We can go back to the workshop.
> Probably so.
> Already? My, look at the time.
> Write-in

>>43373340
> Already? My, look at the time.
> Write-in
"Until next time, then."

>>43373340
> Already? My, look at the time.

Not until we get married!

>>43373340
> Already? My, look at the time.
I want her to ask for it.

>>43373340
>> Already? My, look at the time.
> Probably so.

> Already? My, look at the time.
> Write-in
"We should do this more often."

Yeah, guys how about putting Tryd into the cloak when we're on a date with Elana. Warm blanket/cloak for them comfy snu-snu.

>>43373716
because wedont know what it would do, and considering what kind of imp he is, it would probably also create a bunch of soot.

>>43373765
Also, do we really want our friend to be there right on top of us while we're trying be romantic? It's awkward enough that our clothing is sapient, at least we'll take that off.

>>43373340
>> Stay with me a while longer. We can go back to the workshop.

>>43373340
>> Already? My, look at the time.
It’s only the second date. Let’s make sure the third is not far away.

You glance up at the moon rising high overhead. “Ah. That time already?” You scratch your head, heaving a reluctant sigh. “Well, look at that. I hardly noticed.”

She gives you a coy smile, climbing off of your lap. She takes a moment to straighten her dress, then another to tie your cloak tight around her shoulders. You spring up after her, leaning on your spear to help leverage you to your feet. Your lips tingle in the cold evening breeze.

“Walk me home, Totemist?” she asks airily.

“I suppose so,” you tell her, affecting Ayren's weary tone as best you can. “I can hardly expect a young lady such as yourself to make your way home alone in this blasted wilderness.”

“Not yet, anyway,” she mutters with a smile.

You walk with her side by side back along the sloping hills and valleys toward the northern gate. Every so often you stop to clear a patch of long grass with the blade of your spear to ward off lurking predators. A raptor ambush will be a poor way to end the evening, and they are keen night hunters.

The night watch has rotated by the time you return to the Grisoch gate. Pierce gives you a wave as you approach, hauling open the heavy wooden doors with the wheel at his side to allow the two of you entrance.

The streets are deserted as you make your way home. As you round the corner onto the thoroughfare proper, you note that something unusual has made its way into the lane. A fine blanket of silver-gray fog coats the streets like a carpet, churning and roiling like a thundercloud.

You take a detour around it.
(cont.)

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>>43374065

Elana kicks off her boots on the front steps of the Healer's hut and shrugs off your cloak, handing it back to you. She shivers in the chill light of the moon, but she doesn't seem willing to end the evening just yet. She leans forward and rises on her toes, pressing one last kiss to your lips.

“Thanks for the walk, Osyki.”

“Not that we got much walking done,” you say with a small smile. “Let's do this again some time soon.”

“Definitely,” she says with a nod. “See you tomorrow?”

“One way or another.”

She nods, stooping to pick up her boots. “Good night, then.” She gives you another fond smile over her shoulder as she slips inside before the door latches shut.

> Right. Back to the workshop. Let's see about this mist.
> Wander the village. Who knows what may have climbed out of that fog?
> Write-in

>>43374082
>> Right. Back to the workshop. Let's see about this mist.

>>43374082
>> Right. Back to the workshop. Let's see about this mist.
A totemist's work is never done.

>>43374082
>> Wander the village. Who knows what may have climbed out of that fog?

>>43374082
>Right. Back to the workshop. Let's see about this mist.

I would not want to sleep in the mist no sir.

>>43374082
>Right. Back to the workshop. Let's see about this mist.

>>43374082
> Right. Back to the workshop. Let's see about this mist.

>>43374082
>Right. Back to the workshop. Let's see about this mist.
Hopefully today is not the first day of something dangerous happening.

You take a moment to solidify this feeling of quiet happiness into a solid memory, then turn on your heels and make your way back up the street toward the workshop. The White Claw clunks in rhythm against the shaft of the Ancestral Spear as you walk the empty pathways between houses, heralding your coming.

The Totemist walks the streets this night.

Your workshop comes into view—of a sort. The mists are thick here, a churning bank of pillowy fog large enough to swallow the building in its entirety. The lights from your windows struggle in vain to cut through the cloud, twin points of dim orange light that lend a pair of eyes to the shapeless presence that has enveloped your corner of the village.

The mists numb your skin where they touch. You tuck your hands away within your cloak, idly wondering whether it is the cold that lends the vapors this property or something more sinister altogether.

As you approach the door you note strange marks in the dew that flecks the windows—long parallel smudges in the condensation in even rows. Finger—or claw—marks, seeking a way inside.

Something is definitely lurking in the clouds around you.
(cont.)

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>>43374630

The door swings open, and Terra banishes the mists that seek to press inward by method of the Salamander perched on her shoulder. The multi-limbed lizard lets out a belch of flame that fries the encroaching fog long enough for you to slip inside.

“Welcome back,” Quinn says. He's propped up at the table in the middle of the room, your new bolt-thrower resting on his lap. “Things are getting a little weird.”

“I had noticed that,” you comment dryly. “Anything violent?”

“Just your usual apparitions,” he says with a shrug. You can hear the suppressed quaver in his voice. “Phantoms knocking at the doors and windows. We've had to re-light the hearth half a dozen times.”

Troubling.

> Reload your loadout.
> Search Ayren's workshop for something in the way of an explanation.
> No time to waste. Head out into the mists and start hunting. (With/Without Quinn/Terra.)
> Write-in

>>43374646
>> Reload your loadout.
>> Search Ayren's workshop for something in the way of an explanation.
In this order. Also ask them where they cut what. Maybe we can see and understand the unravelling spellwork.

>>43374705
This.
Also, lay off the earth stuff, it's becoming a problem.

>>43374646
>> Reload your loadout.
>> Search Ayren's workshop for something in the way of an explanation.
perhaps we should check the cabinet of milestone rewards for a clue?

>>43374646
>> Reload your loadout.
movement and perception focus
> Search Ayren's workshop for something in the way of an explanation.

>five hours since quest began
>70 posts.
What? Everyone is foaming at the mouth for Diarca to come back in the general and this is what happens in his threads?

>>43374646
I forget, is Boand still busy?

>>43375169
Quests tend to be more popular later in the afternoon.
Some people have like jobs and classes and truly horrible sleeping habits.

>>43374646
Should we try a mask with just Amal? He might aid our second-sight a bit.

>>43375195
Can confirm, have classes and terrible sleeping habits, also working on last minute halloween preparation.

>>43374739
>Also, lay off the earth stuff, it's becoming a problem.
That reminds me: What the heck were people thinking EATING a bound item? Wasn’t that one of the big taboos in totem binding because of how dangerous and destructive it is? I’m pretty sure we had discussions about it previously and decided to stay the fuck away from it.

>>43375297
Diarca has said eating bound things isn't directly dangerous.

>>43375331
True, but we've also been told, like a lot, that too much Earth will literally kill us.

You set to work rearranging your bindings. The time for low key has officially come to an end. You don't know what is lurking in the mists outside your workshop, but you know for damn sure that it will regret attempting to invade a Totemist's sanctum.

> Suggested Loadout:
Armor: Vestus Sonitus
Boots: Cloudwalker Stride
Bow: Song of the Deep
Cloak: Nocturne's Embrace
Gloves: Bolide Bracers
Mask: Infinity Incisor
Pants: Bulwark Aurum
Sword: Moth's First Resort

> Feel free to make corrections.

As you strobe the workshop with flashes of blinding light you direct Quinn and Terra to comb the library. Any notation Ayren left about the workshop itself you want found and annotated. Amal and Tryd join them in the search, shuffling tosses pages into something resembling neat and orderly piles.

“I'm going out to scout,” you tell them. “I should be back in a few minutes. If I'm not, do -not- come out after me. I have a sneaking suspicion I'll end up slipping the veil when I delve into the mist out there, and neither of you are remotely equipped to deal with that.”

They nod, though Quinn doesn't look happy about it. “How do we get in touch with you when we have information for you?”

A good thought. Ordinarily you would communicate with them through Boand, but she is otherwise occupied.

> Don't worry about it. Just have the notes ready for me when I get back.
> Quinn, you'll have to signal me when you find something.
> On second thought, Quinn can come find me. You can handle yourself, right?
> Write-in

>>43375479
>"I’ll just go round once and come back then. I simply want to make sure there is no monster running around or anything relevant that is easily visible."

>>43375479
>Don't worry about it. Just have the notes ready for me when I get back.
If it is really important ttell them to try Boand.

>>43375479
> On second thought, Quinn can come find me. You can handle yourself, right?

>>43375645
Yeah that works. Just a perimeter sweep for now.

>>43375645
Seconded

“Just keep it ready for me here. I'm just going to go round once, then come back. I'm just going to make sure there's no howling spirit out there devouring villagers or anything,” you tell them.

“You'd think we'd have heard that by now,” Quinn mutters. He doesn't seem amused.

You fix Infinity Incisor over your face, giving Quinn a small shrug. The dual-jaws flex at your thought, corded muscles straining. You hear the familiar dark mutterings in your ears. The void is hungry.

“Be safe, Osyki.” Terra stands behind you, her Salamander clutched to her chest.

You pat her head gently as you stride past her, drawing Moth's First Resort from your side.

The mists billow outward as you swing the door open, but quickly surge to fill the vaccuum they've left behind. You step into the encroaching fog-bank quickly, shutting the door behind you. The fog is a nearly physical barrier around you now. It reminds you uncoincidentally of the Gray Mists you flew with the Drake. Something is broken. Something is bleeding through.

You close your eyes behind the slitted visor of the Incisor, focusing your senses outward.

Where are you?

> 1d100

Rolled 36 (1d100)

>>43376095

Rolled 45 (1d100)

>>43376095

O̟̗̱͎̎ͫ͗̃̍ͣ͂u̼ͨ̃ȓ̬͙̼̮̫͆ͤ ̅̓͌ͣ̅m͔̙͋̔̇̈́ͨ̇a̤̳̤͖͕͙̩͑ͯ̐̓̑s͈͖̣̞t̥͇̣̠͜ę̝̼̺̒͗̀r͉̭̞̠̓ͤ̅͛s͇͇͓͐̑́̀ ̣̽̌̆ͨs̲h̯̜͛ͭͥå͖l̩̫͙̕l̃̾ͭ̇ͫ ̩͈̼͋̌͗ͣ̈r̹̝̖̗̍ͨ̊̑ͅi͐ͮͨͣ̎͞s͚̦͚ȇ̲̬͒ͯ ̝͉̆ͧ͟aͥͦ̔ͦ̚͏̗͔̘̹̠gͤa̯̮͔̬ͫ̎ͭ̽͋ͅi̛̻̰͔̥ͦ͆̆̃̅̆̔n͔̙̣̐ͨ.̺̫

Rolled 78 (1d100)

>>43376095

Rolled 92 (1d100)

>>43376095

TIME FOR SPOOPY

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[[Okay folks. If we can't muster the prerequisite 5 rolls in this long, I think it's time to call the thread. We'll try again either later tonight or later this weekend. Have a good holiday.]]

Rolled 99 (1d100)

>>43376095
shit I thought it was three so I've just been waiting for an update instead of rolling

Rolled 20 (1d100)

>>43376095

>>43376829
Senpai no I just got home

File: Not laughing, nope.gif (2.39 MB, 286x258)

2.39 MB GIF

Rolled 58 (1d100)

>>43376829
>yfw Darcia pull a summoningplayers.jpg
>>43376095

>>43376999
Yeah I thought it was best of three as well.

>>43377140
>>43376999
I think it's best of three UNLESS there's a crit in the first 5. So technically, he needs 5 rolls to be CERTAIN of the result.

>>43377210
Without those extra two rolls, he's only 96.04% sure of his post.

I get it. I wouldn't want to QM for an empty room either. There have been an average of four votes per post all day today.

Maybe he'll come back later tonight.

>>43377226
That fifth post crit has saved our asses more than once.

>>43377311
Oh, no doubt. It's also fucked us a couple important times.

I just did the math because I like running statistics. I didn't mean to imply the high percentage of certainly negated his lack of response.

It's only marginally less than if a roll required a natural 20 to succeed. There's still a chance, and the DM would definitely want the player to roll it.

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Damn public holidays ruining my questing

>>43376829
And now I feel like a total heel for falling alseep. Sorry, Diarca. It's not a reflection on your storytelling, I'm just sick.

You are now imagining Darcia going.
>So that's how they felt everytime I fell asleep on the keyboard in the early threads.

Rolled 71 (1d100)

>>43376829
Diarca nooooo!!! I look forward to this quest every week, it's one of the things that keeps me going till the weekend. If you're done for the night plz continue later on in the weekend

Well, I only just caught up. Maybe I should try and wake up earlier when this quest is running.

>>43376829
>tfw you forget its Friday.

Back to page one.

>>43383398
Good thinking. Makes sense to keep the thread if possible.

[[Heyo. Anyone still about?]]

>>43384673
Its currently 5:55 in the am and I am still here.

>>43384673
I am here and ready to go

>>43384673
Still here

>>43384673
howdy

>>43384673
Yep

>>43384673
It's 6am, friend, but I'll be here for you always.

>>43384673
Yes, hello.

[[Hot damn. Good enough for me. Post incoming.]]

>>43384852
Time for spooky, then?

Though the cold void pressed into the shape of a mask on your face muddies your perception slightly, you can still feel the spiritual pressure that bears down on you from all sides. The mists around you are laden with latent power—not untapped, but inert. Heavy. The swirls and eddies of energy around you twist in obscure, arcane designs. The Ancestral spear in one hand, your blade in the other, you stride outward half-blind.

The anchor of your workshop on your right keeps you on track as you stalk through the fog. What should be a quick loop around the building stretches onward long enough to make you suspicious. The workshop is not a large building. You should have found the far corner of it by now. To your secondary sight, however, the wall to your right stretches forward and back until it is devoured by the cloud on either side.

Curious.

>78

The vague sensation of being followed drifts across your awareness. A flicker of something lighter than the leaden swirls around you, barely visible at the edge of your perception. You turn on your heel, senses straining against the muffling sheet around you, but nothing else manifests.

Sighing in frustration, you lower your arms and open your eyes.

You stand in a featureless field of grays and whites. Though your second sight clearly paints a workshop wall at your side, there is no such construct in the material. You've wandered quite a ways from your home. Too far.

In the distance, there is the distinct peal of shattering glass.
(cont.)

>>43385155

The fog flashes actinic white around you as Cloudwalker Stride flares, propelling you toward the source of the noise—you think. Everything bounces and echoes strangely in this place. Your meteoric descent transitions into a rapid glide as Bulwark Aurum takes up the slack, preserving your momentum and sending you skimming over the mists at your feet. A delta of displaced fog roars up behind you as you flit toward your home.

When the workshop comes into view your heart leaps into your throat. The window isn't broken.

It's wide open.

You vault inside. The vapors are still spilling into the room, but not as quickly as you had expected. Jagged edges of something like glass catch the fog as it slips toward the innards of your home, tearing and gouging. The shattered shell of a spiritual barrier.

As you slow to a stop you take stock of your surroundings.

Quinn and Terra are absent. Your twin familiar spirits are likewise nowhere to be seen. The fire is extinguished. The room is otherwise precisely as you left it.

Your second sight catches a glimpse of a glittering something near the ceiling.

> Sweep the outside of the workshop. They can't have gone far.
> Investigate this anomaly.
> Call to Tryd and Amal through their Foci.
> Write-in

>>43385173
>Investigate this anomaly.

>>43385173
>> Investigate this anomaly.

>>43385173
>> Investigate this anomaly.
>> Call to Tryd and Amal through their Foci.

>>43385173
> Call to Tryd and Amal through their Foci.

>>43385173
> Investigate this anomaly.
I'm guessing that we can't see them because we're not actually in the workshop right now, but some reflection of it. We know that the building extends into the spirit realm (thought not why Ayren would do that), and we walked far further than we could have. Most likely this is some weird extradimensional geometry thing. Banach-Tarski, maybe?

>>43385173
>Investigate this anomaly.
Nice, got back just in time to participate.

>>43385173
> Investigate this anomaly
Stay on the alert

>>43385173
Investigate

Though every fiber of your being strains toward the window to track down your MIA apprentices you force yourself to remain calm. You're not sure if this is a charade being put on for your benefit, some strange spiritual displacement, or something else altogether. You do know you will get yourself nowhere good by panicking.

It doesn't mean that you have to like it.

You jam Moth's First Resort back into its moth-wing scabbard. With the Bolide Bracers wrapping your fists it is a simple matter to tug one of the workshop tables across the room. You step up onto the makeshift platform, inspecting the glittering anomaly with both sets of eyes.

On the physical, it is nothing more than a small distortion. A thin waver in the air like a heat shimmer from Merich's forge that stretches the length of the ceiling. To your second sight it becomes immediately apparent—a ribbon of fluctuating teal light pulses with the heartbeat of some unknown titan. It is a swirling vortex of minutely folded spiritual pathways and carefully shepherded runic bindings.

It is bleeding spiritual pressure into the air in a steady drip. This must be what Quinn and Terra nicked.

You put your hand to your head, doing your best to recall any lesson Ayren might have taught you about cross-veil spiritual energies and dynamics. You draw a resounding blank. That would have been far too theoretical a lesson for a man so firmly rooted in the practical.

The mists are still slowly slipping in through the shattered barrier. You shut the window for all the good it does—threads of white still creep in around the edges of the frame, slowly flooding the workshop. Already, the rising tide is ankle-deep.

> Check your apprentices notes.
> Follow the malfunctioning pathway to its source.
> Lure whatever is following you into the back room.
> Write-in

>>43385529
> Follow the malfunctioning pathway to its source.

>>43385529
>Follow the malfunctioning pathway to its source.
Hopefully this doesn't get us jumped by whatever's following us.

>>43385529
>Follow the malfunctioning pathway to its source.

>>43385529
> Follow the malfunctioning pathway to its source.
if only so we can catch anything that might come through.

>>43385529
> Check your apprentices notes.

>>43385529
>> Check your apprentices notes.

>>43385529
>> Check your apprentices notes.

>>43385529
> Check your apprentices notes.
They're both pretty smart, so let's see what they already learned.

The sparking edge of the spiritual pathway has been damaged enough that it bleeds through to the material. You can use this to your advantage with a bit of cleverly applied pressure. Theoretically you can align yourself with the depth of the mists that the cracked path exists in, walking along the border of the material until you find where the node leads.

In ordinary circumstances this would be laughably impossible—the amount of energy necessary to transfer yourself from one side of the veil to the other is something possessed only by higher-order spirits like Boand. Even a fearsome being like your Drake needs the push from both your totems and your personal spiritual reserves to send you spiraling into the mists, and that is not a full transition.

With the writhing braid of raw energy sparking fitfully beneath your fingertips, it seems the energy is no longer an issue to contend with. You only hope that following it won't lead you to some strange pocket of the spirit world.

Knowing Ayren...

Before you commit to grabbing hold of the cracked path, you stoop and gather a handful of the notes by your feet. They lack organization, pages and annotations grabbed from a dozen different sources. Still, sifting through them as you steel yourself for the trip does produce a few clues.

Boand had said that the workshop existed more beyond the veil than it did before it. Quinn's notes have come primarily from a book titled “Transharmonic Elementary Resonance”, one of Ayren's impossibly thick tomes heavy with jargon and furiously scribbled footnotes. You stuff them into your breastplate haphazardly. You'll read on the go.

The cracked pathway is -alive- in your grasp as you wrap your hand around it. You can feel the energy bleeding out from it buzzing in your molars, dancing and playing between your ribs. You'll have to keep this brief.

> 1d100

Rolled 67 (1d100)

>>43385847

Rolled 6 (1d100)

>>43385847

Rolled 55 (1d100)

>>43385847

>>43385847

Rolled 22 (1d100)

>>43385847

Rolled 49 (1d100)

>>43385847
Come on, give a good roll

>>43385853
That's decent.

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Even gritting your teeth is an alien feeling with this much power buzzing beneath them. With Ayren's death, you would have expected the strength of the magics woven across the workshop to have faded, or even to have cracked altogether like the totems in the walls. The rope of condensed spiritual power in your hand tells you otherwise. The unbridled energy threatening to fry your spiritual pathways fizzes at the air around you. It reminds you of the bolts of luminescent destruction hurled from the rock turtle's horn in a way.

You move as carefully as you can with the outlines of the world beginning to fray around you. Filaments of silver split from your aura, needles of moonlight painted in scratch-marks to your second sight. You lay the thin spiritual connectors along the length of the pathway beneath your hand. You don't want to open too much of yourself up to the seething strand of energy, lest it scour your spiritual pathways from your body. Too little, though, and you risk being lost in the mist. The quicksilver strands twine into something resembling a rough ring around the cracked pathway. You can feel the surge of spiritual power threatening to overwhelm your tenuous hold already. What magic could Ayren have possibly amassed to draw so potent a link across the veil? And for what?

You suppose you'll find out. Now comes the hard part.

In an act not altogether dissimilar to a hanged man dropping from the gallows, you step off of the table. The filaments of silver wound round the cracked path go taught, and you feel a fundamental -shift-. The feeling is somewhere between a sharp kick in the testicles and a tearing hook behind your navel. You resist the urge to double over in pain as you are swept away on the current of the pathway. The workshop around you runs like dye spilled across a dusty field, dissolving into rivulets of color that quickly spiral out of sight.

What replaces them is—

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>>43386180

You land hard, slamming into warm stone. You shiver, arms wrapped trembling around yourself, a thin coat of rime lining the edges of Nocturne's Embrace. There are shallow gouges in the surface of Vestus Sonitus, long parallel claw marks that mar the otherwise perfect crystal plate. Though you fight for the memories of your transition, you are disturbed to find that you cannot recall them. Only murky flashes of an utterly black field dotted by points of stark light remain.

You release your deathgrip on the pathway in your hand. Here, it is much more physical. Not a pathway, you realize, but an -anchor-. There are a dozen of them strewn across the parapets around you, piercing the sun-warmed stone in uneven intervals and fading into sight above you.

You slowly climb to your feet, muscles screaming in protest as you do. You feel scorched, inside and out. The platform you've landed on lowers slowly to sit flush with the surface of the tower around, clicking into place with a resounding latch.

You stand overlooking a village that could easily be mistaken for Grisoch. A stone tower ringed by lanterns supports you, hovering in the air above and indeed occupying the same ground as the buildings below. The double-vision is painful to observe with your second sight, and you slam shut your third eye with a painful mental wrench. The stony edifice seems to very nearly exist in overlapping the village below you.

The motes of light floating on the air leave no doubt. You've crossed the veil. But whose sanctum is this?

You take a step forward. A soft sibilant sussuration beneath the heel of Cloudwalker Stride catches your attention. A scrap of paper, torn and burnt at the edges with Ayren's unmistakable handwriting.

A trail.

[[ Okay folks. That's where we'll actually end things this evening. My apologies if things got a little incoherent at the end here—it's past 4 AM my time. As always, drop questions into the ask box if you have them. Have a great week!]]

>>43386180
>>43386188
Are we...are we in Darkseed? Because with the mirror dimension and the Giger face and all that, I'm kind of getting the impression we're in Darkseed. Should we have turned on the radio and hidden a lockpick inside the jail cell before we left?

In all seriousness, though, thanks for running. See you next time, Diarca.

>>43386188
Thanks for running, Diarca.

>>43386188
Thanks for running, appropriately spooky for Halloween.