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In the duchy of Starfall, there is a forest, old and nameless.

In the forest there is a town, Glen, whose name is much, much older than the town, yet not nearly so old as the forest.

And in Glen is the Dungeon.

There is no other name for it, though academics snap and snarl at the inaccuracy of it. The Dungeon is ancient, and vast, and ever-changing. It spans miles beneath the earth, in labyrinths and caverns, with rivers, cities, and would-be nations within its depths. Ever since humanoids discovered the Dungeon they have used it as a dumping ground for the things they would prefer to forget, but that is not all it is; ancient things move down in the dark, and its secrets - and opportunities - draw thieves, academics, sorcerers, and glory hounds alike. If one is brave, lucky, and vigilant, one can make one's entire life from the Dungeon.

There is a polite knock, on your inn room door in Glen. The Unlucky Bastard inn has been your home for the last twelve hours, but now it is time for you, too, to enter the Dungeon.

"Just need your name for the records," the voice on the other side of the door says, politely.

"I'm..."

> Brianna la Croix, Journeyman Necromancer (Female human; No Good Deed Goes Unpunished)
> Jack the Lesser, Knight-Errant (Male human; Like Father, Like Son)
> Lyra of the Shrine, Technically a Priestess (Female elf; Loyalty is a Circle)
> Martin Bookchild, Student Wizard (Male halfling; Knowledge Is Power)

Vote for one option only, please.
>>
>Jack the Lesser
>>
> Jack the Lesser, Knight-Errant (Male human; Like Father, Like Son)
>>
>Lyra of the Shrine, Technically a Priestess (Female elf; Loyalty is a Circle)
>>
> Brianna la Croix, Journeyman Necromancer (Female human; No Good Deed Goes Unpunished)
>>
>>43890201
>Brianna la Croix, Journeyman Necromancer (Female human; No Good Deed Goes Unpunished)
>>
>>43890201
>Jack the Lesser, Knight-Errant (Male human; Like Father, Like Son)
>>
>>43890253
Changing this vote to
>Brianna la Croix, Journeyman Necromancer (Female human; No Good Deed Goes Unpunished)
>>
> Brianna la Croix, Journeyman Necromancer (Female human; No Good Deed Goes Unpunished)

>>43890229
>>43890230
>>43890287
all of these fellows wanting generic fighterman self-insert baka

baka tbqh family
>>
>>43890201
> Brianna la Croix, Journeyman Necromancer (Female human; No Good Deed Goes Unpunished)

We dead now.
>>
>>43890345
> Brianna la Croix, Journeyman Necromancer (Female human; No Good Deed Goes Unpunished)
The least generic option
>>
>>43890201
> Lyra of the Shrine, Technically a Priestess (Female elf; Loyalty is a Circle)

Because why follow the crowd?
>>
> Brianna la Croix, Journeyman Necromancer (Female human; No Good Deed Goes Unpunished)
>>
> Lyra of the Shrine

Because companionship will be a boon to you and what is likely ahead of you.
>>
>>43890544
Female Elf and Priestess - so I guess you prefer crouds following you...
>>
>>43890201
>Lyra of the Shrine, Technically a Priestess (Female elf; Loyalty is a Circle)
>>
>>43890784
If you've got it, flaunt it.
>>
Martin Bookchild, Student Wizard (Male halfling, Knowledge is Power)
>>
>>43890201
>Martin Bookchild, Student Wizard (Male halfling; Knowledge Is Power)

Been a while since I wizarded.
>>
>>43890201
> Jack the Lesser, Knight-Errant (Male human; Like Father, Like Son)
>>
>Martin Bookchild, Student Wizard (Male halfling, Knowledge is Power)
>>
Is this based on that idea that was being kicked around in wqtg last night about a no-strings-attached dungeon crawler quest?

If so, I'm hyped.
>>
>>43890201

> Lyra of the Shrine, Technically a Priestess (Female elf; Loyalty is a Circle)
>>
>>43890201
> Jack the Lesser, Knight-Errant (Male human; Like Father, Like Son)
it's funnier to be the good guy who fall into evil than being the evil guy who becomes good.
>>
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>Lyra of the Shrine, Technically a Priestess (Female elf; Loyalty is a Circle)
>>
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>>43891590
Amusing.

VOTES CALLED, WRITING.
>>
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>>43890201
"...Brianna la Croix," you answer, reluctantly. "Listen, I don't suppose I can, maybe, I dunno, not go in the Dungeon?"

"That's between you and His Grace, miss," the polite voice answers. "I'm just the historian. Your escort's waiting for you downstairs."

Right. Them, the dutiful bastards. You sigh and finish dressing by putting on your dust-grey longcoat and placing your battered silk tophat over your hair. At least they'd given you the courtesy of a bath before having to commit to the terms of your exile.

Downstairs, Captain Marsh and a detail of six men are waiting for you. The rest of your effects - a handful of wands, charms, gemstones, and talismans relevant to your work, as well as your worn diary and a hunting knife passed down from your grandfather - are on a table behind him.

"Ms. la Croix," the Captain greets. "I am glad to see you well. To reiterate the sentence of the court, you have been convicted on charges of necromancy -"

"Which I used to save your ungrateful hide," you mutter.

"- and unlawful reanimation," the Captain continues smoothly. "Your sentence of death has been commuted to exile into the Dungeon, either for the rest of your natural life or until you produce the lost crown jewels known to be hiding within their depths. Are there any further questions?"

"How's Jakob doing?" you ask, inquiring as to the man you saved - the aforementioned 'unlawful reanimation'.

"...Very well," Marsh admits, quietly. "And I am not ungrateful, Ms. la Croix. You'll find some...additions...to your effects. It's the most I can do."

"You could let me go."

The Captain stands up straight and forms his men into a guard around you. You sigh and pocket your effects, and permit yourself to be escorted into the Dungeon.
>>
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>>43892396
"You'll be lowered down the Oubliette," the Captain explains, as you cross Glen's square towards a platform set above a massive hole in the ground. A winch and pulley system is used to raise and lower it. "From there you will make your way on your own. Food and water are available in the Dungeon."

You ascend the platform and put your hands in your massive pockets. "Got it. Quick question - there's no laws down there, right? I can do this my way?"

"Correct, Ms. la Croix," Marsh confirms. "Your actions are between you and the gods."

"Well," you say with a crooked grin, "I may just get out of this in a state resembling alive. I'll catch you on the other side, Captain, one way or the other. You owe me a drink, fucker."

The soldier nods and gives the signal to lower the platform, sending you down into the blind dark.

You arrive at the bottom in pitch blackness, in air that smells stale.

> Might as well start the necromancing now. Give yourself the sight of the dead to see in darkness.
> Light a torch. Why expend energy before you have to?
> Explore blind. Hard to see, but harder to /be/ seen, and you've been rough places before.
> Other.
>>
>>43892477
>Light a torch. Why expend energy before you have to?

So, we're going to tell the crown jewels to go fuck themselves and just rise up from the depths with an army of corpses at our side, right?
>>
>>43892477
> Might as well start the necromancing now. Give yourself the sight of the dead to see in darkness.
>>
>>43892477
>> Explore blind. Hard to see, but harder to /be/ seen, and you've been rough places before.
>>
> Might as well start the necromancing now. Give yourself the sight of the dead to see in darkness.
>>
>>43892477
>Might as well start the necromancing now. Give yourself the sight of the dead to see in darkness.

I cast nightvision goggles.
>>
>>43892477
> Might as well start the necromancing now. Give yourself the sight of the dead to see in darkness.
>>
>>43892568
That's what I'm going for.

> Light a torch. Why expend energy before you have to?
>>
>>43892661

Could be a pretty fun long-term goal.

After we break out of creepy labyrinth-jail we can run off and make our own country. With corpse blackjack and zombie hookers.
>>
>"How's Jakob doing?" you ask, inquiring as to the man you saved - the aforementioned 'unlawful reanimation'.

Does this mean we can bring people back from death? Like revive / resurrect them? Because if we can, and if necromancy isn't that common which I assume it is, we could make a hefty coin by resurrecting those who perish down here.
>>
>>43892771

I don't know if currency is relevant in subterranean super jail.

But hey, zombie thralls aplenty I'm betting.
>>
>>43892793
Doesn't have to be coin, could be supplies or other much sought after objects.
>>
>>43892477
>Might as well start the necromancing now. Give yourself the sight of the dead to see in darkness.

If we really can see well in the dark we're already at a huge advantage.
>>
You would think that the drop-off area, or at leas the surrounding area, would be somewhat inhabited? With people being dropped off or descending down. Or bandits, preying on the fresh arrivals?
>>
>>43892896

I'd think that wherever the source of fresh water is in this place, that's where any kind of settlement would be.
>>
>>43892771
Sort of. Bri can intervene to prevent death or restore life to the extremely recently dead. Mr. Jakob had been decapitated and your intervention let him walk away alive, albeit with a collar bolted to his neck forever.
>>
>>43892930
Ah, great thinking. Yes, we should stock up on supplies as well, and see if there's a somewhat safe place around here.
>>
>>43892963

That actually sounds kinda funny. I hope we get to see this person whenever we break out of jail.
>>
>>43892965
Mmmmh, well at least we could be a sought after party member then, do we also have healing abilities?
>>
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>>43893019

>"Bri, my sister has a fever. Do you know any herbal remedies?"
>"No, but if you cut off her head I can bolt it back on."
>tfw
>>
>>43893019
meant
>>43892963
>>
Might as well start the necromancing now. Give myself the vision of the dead.
>>
There's a minotaur down here, right?

An underground dungeon just doesn't feel right without a minotaur.
>>
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Please OP, don't let his die so soon...
>>
>>43893906
I was disturbed by real life at an unfortunate moment. Votes called, writing soon.
>>
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"Let's start this party," you mutter to yourself, with jaunty cheer you don't quite feel. You take the top hat off of your head and hold it in front of your eyes, while muttering a few choice words for your ancestors. You feel a faint stirring from the veil that divides life and death, as well as a whispered 'Language, young lady' before the interior of your top hat becomes visible to you.

You place the top hat back on your dark brown hair and survey the room around you.

The Oubliette let out into a round room, with sand coating its stone floor. One door leads in and out, made of thick steel and barred from this side. A warning sign in a dozen tongues says that the door will lock behind you.

And all around you are names.

Thousands of names, carved or painted on the stones. You cannot see color with the eyes of the dead, but you can make out each and every name, names from every culture and race you've read about, names you cannot place. The ones near the bottom are so ancient and faded as to be unreadable, but as they grow higher, they become fresher.

Above the door out, small brass letters, polished to a shine, read 'Et in Arcadia ego'.

"Even in Arcadia, huh?" you murmur to yourself. "Fuck it. Not like I'm any better than them."

The platform stays flat on the ground as you hook your fingers around the uneven stones of the shaft. You climb thirty feet straight up, your arms protesting and lungs heaving, until you find a blank spot in the wall. You look up to see faces at the distant top of the shaft peering down at you.

"Keep a mug cold for me!" you call up, flashing them a white, white smile. You unsheath your hunting knife and carve 'Brianna la Croix' into the stone in rough, clear letters. And then, as slowly as you went up, you go back down.
>>
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>>43894849
The bar on the door is deceptively light, but when you touch it you can feel the layers of enchantments beaten into the steel. You lift it and pass through, carefully shutting the door behind you. You feel it vibrate as the bar slides back into place under its own power.

Like it or not, you're not getting back out the way you came in.

This section of the Dungeon, known most commonly as the Basement, is the most worked by the hands of man; in times of emergency and chaos it has sheltered the population of Glen and once famously saved the inhabitants of a kingdom from a ravaging horde unwilling to follow them into the depths. The stone walls have been worked to resemble fitted flagstones, though a brief touch confirms that the 'mortar' is just a clever trick of the masonry. Torch scones line the walls, mostly empty, and none of them lit. Your monochromatic vision reveals a long hall terminating in three doors, forming a 'T' of entranceways. You move slowly, one hand on the hilt of your hunting knife and ears perked for the sounds of impending death.

The air tastes of death and pain, but faintly, the way a city's might. You note this curiously and stop to write it into your diary to investigate later.

You listen at the doors at the end of the hall.

> Take the left door; you hear the sounds of rushing water, like a mighty but distant river.
> Take the center door. The absence of sound promises potential safety.
> Take the right door. You can hear faint sobbing, like a woman crying. You got sent here for helping people in need; might as well be hung for a flock as a lamb.
>>
>>43894979
>Take the left door; you hear the sounds of rushing water, like a mighty but distant river.

Water means people. People mean corpses. Corpses mean FRIENDS.
>>
> Take the left door; you hear the sounds of rushing water, like a mighty but distant river.
>>
>>43894979
Take the right hand door, but cautiously. Keep an eye on the taste of the air - am I correct in assuming that we can, to an extent, sense how much harm has been done in an area? If so, that's a handy potential early-warning system for ambushes.
>>
>>43895033
> Take the left door; you hear the sounds of rushing water, like a mighty but distant river.

This guy has the right idea.
>>
>>43895096
Oops. Just to make sure:

>Take the right door. You can hear faint sobbing, like a woman crying. You got sent here for helping people in need; might as well be hung for a flock as a lamb.
>>
>>43894979
>Take the right door. You can hear faint sobbing, like a woman crying. You got sent here for helping people in need; might as well be hung for a flock as a lamb.
>>
>>43894979
>Take the left door; you hear the sounds of rushing water, like a mighty but distant river.

Do we have a skin we can put the water in? If not we're going to have to camp right next to the river just to stay alive.
>>
>>43895096
Aye. Brianna's sense of death is a lot better than her sense for magic; she has to touch objects to get a feel for their sorceries (and spend time with them) but she can see sites of death for what they are, taste places that belong to death or the dead, and other things that will be revealed as we go along.
>>
>>43894979
> Take the right door. You can hear faint sobbing, like a woman crying. You got sent here for helping people in need; might as well be hung for a flock as a lamb.

This is probably either a real person in trouble, or an undead monstrosity mocking the living. Either way, new friend.
>>
>>43895169
Huh. So how does that work, exactly? A general sense, like here? Or is it more like Dark Souls? (Dark Souls has 'bloodstains' you can touch to see a ghostly afterimage of someone who died - you don't see what killed them specifically, but you can see actions they took in the thirty seconds or so prior, so fighting, just going into a place, whatever.)

>>43895306
Now now. It could be an undead monstrosity in trouble; don't judge.
>>
>>43895169
Are you going to give us a spell list/inventory or is it more of a loose "she can probably have that/do that" kind of thing?
>>
>>43894979
>Take the left door; you hear the sounds of rushing water, like a mighty but distant river.
Sounds like a good water supply
>>
>>43895397
I'm currently operating somewhat loosely. Brianna's got talent but lacks mastery; the 'Journeyman' descriptor is there for a reason. You'll be told when you come up on limits.

As for what you have on hand:

> Spellcasting implements (hat, wands, gems, talismans)
> Clothes
> Dusty black coat
> Two days' worth of iron rations which may or may not be slightly worse an experience than suicide
> Canteen (water cut with brandy; full)
> Grandpa's hunting knife
>>
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>>43895388
Usually a general sense. Brianna can sense fainter and weaker ghosts than most people, however, which can get her more information. No one really dies without /any/ unfinished business, and some fragment of the soul sticks around at the site of its death, even if it's not truly restless so much as a carbon shadow of pain. She can learn about recent, or savage, deaths from such mute ghosts - or just interrogate the ones strong enough to influence their environment.
>>
So this is like Dungeon Meshi the necromancing
>>
Gonna call the vote in 15 minutes.
>>
>>43895752
That could be cool.
>>
>>43895831

Friendly suggestion, I'd cut down on the length of time you leave votes open.
>>
>>43895968
I'll keep it in mind. This is my first quest and, admittedly, I expected Real Life Events to take less time than they did today. I appreciate the advice, anon.
>>
Votes called, writing.
>>
>>43895752
Well we're gonna need more supplies at least, water, food and a safe place to rest would be a good start.
>>
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Water sounds good. The thing is, while you're not necessarily /averse/ to becoming undead, per se, there's this thing where you like - as random, nonspecific examples - breathing, the taste of food, a good night's sleep, a hard lay and the warm burn of whiskey after a hard day's work. Being dead would complicate all of that a lot.

Plus all of your supplies for emergency lichdom are fifty miles away in a hollow tree in the forest, where you fucking left them. Years of effort, down the shitter. Fucking soldiers.

You open the door carefully, knife in your left hand, and see a cavernous room. The worked stone floor gives way to a more natural cave, lit by shafts of sunlight that reflect off of a chill and icy river. You can taste death in the air, and a sense of lurking threat; something, or many things, live in this river, and they kill to survive.

A pathway along the water leads deeper into the dungeon, and, downslope, you can see flickering lights - like candles. It's a mile or more, though, far enough away that you won't even be under Glen any more.

> Walk along the river towards the lights.
> Try a different door.
> Grab a sample of the water (choose one more).
> Investigate upstream.
> Other.
>>
>>43896579
>Walk along the river towards the lights

Lights mean people.

People mean corpses.

Corpses mean BEST FRIENDS FOREVER
>>
>>43896579
>Grab a sample of the water and then
>Try a different door (Right, towards the sound of sobbing.)

We can go for the lights later; going that path means that we can't investigate these doors, most likely, because it's so far off and we'll get involved in other things. We can always go for them after we check the rest of this area - and that'll keep us from getting caught from behind, too.

Also, lights might not mean people. Lights could be will'o'wisps or any number of lethal bullshit.
>>
>>43896579
>Walk along the river towards the lights.
>>
> Walk along the river towards the lights
>>
>>43896579
>Walk along the river towards the lights.

This smells like plot.

And dead bodies, hopefully. We need to stock up on undead servants sooner rather than later.
>>
Votes called in favor of WALKING INTO THE LIGHT, writing.
>>
Lights mean people. People can give you advice on how to survive down here. Depending on their pragmatism, or...well, okay, let's admit it, probably absence of moral character, they might even provide you with fresh corpses. Or old corpses. Really, any corpses are good at this point. Even a tiny little bone construct is more useful than the complete absence of help you've got right now.

Gods, but you wish that just for once you didn't have to rely on people whose existence drives you to drink.

It's hard to resist the urge to tuck your hands into your pockets as you walk, but the Dungeon's not a place for a casual stroll. The path you're on is smooth and kept swept and clear, and is surprisingly free of gravel. Heartened by this sign of clear use, you eat up more than a mile before you notice the rusalka.

The little ghost is barely there; she has a sad air about her, of a life cut short before its time, but her features are so blurred and indistinct that it's hard to say how old she was or even what species she was. She sits with her legs in the water, looking up at you with curious eyes.

"You alright, little ghost?" you ask, sympathetically. In answer, she smiles faintly and lifts herself up on her hands, revealing ravaged stumps where her legs were.

You have time to manage one word - "Shit" - before massive jaws lunge from the crystal-clear water, a reptilian maw crackling into view as its illusory camoflauge fades away. Teeth nearly eight inches long pierce your torso, the strength behind them driving the air from your lungs and spraying blood into the water.

Welp. Of all the shitty ways to go you'd predicted since becoming a necromancer, this one was honestly not on the list. Good job, Death. Pulled a fast one.

Except...
>>
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>>43897751
The light fades from your eyes and your last thoughts are wondering how you'll be sorted into the hereafter.

But it doesn't happen. You feel a wooden bench beneath your butt, and your body feels remarkably un-killed. A tired female voice, with mild surprise, says, "Took you long enough."

You open your eyes and find yourself in a waiting room, with white wooden walls. You sit on one bench, and across the room from you, a black-winged angel sits, with dark hair and a sheathed sword propped up on the bench next to her. She smokes a cigarette with a bored expression.

"You have any idea how long I've been waiting?"

> Who are you?
> What is this place?
> I DID NOT STUDY FUCKING NECROMANCY FOR THE LAST TEN YEARS, SINCE BEFORE I HIT FUCKING PUBERTY, FOR THIS NOT-EVEN-THE-AFTERLIFE BULLSHIT
> Am I dead or what?
>>
>>43897870
>I DID NOT STUDY FUCKING NECROMANCY FOR THE LAST TEN YEARS, SINCE BEFORE I HIT FUCKING PUBERTY, FOR THIS NOT-EVEN-THE-AFTERLIFE BULLSHIT
>>
>>43897870
>> Am I dead or what?
>>
>>43897870

>"Share a puff with a weary prisoner? Who had the gall to lock death up in a dungeon, anyway?"
>>
>>43897870
> I DID NOT STUDY FUCKING NECROMANCY FOR THE LAST TEN YEARS, SINCE BEFORE I HIT FUCKING PUBERTY, FOR THIS NOT-EVEN-THE-AFTERLIFE BULLSHIT
>>
>>43897870
> I DID NOT STUDY FUCKING NECROMANCY FOR THE LAST TEN YEARS, SINCE BEFORE I HIT FUCKING PUBERTY, FOR THIS NOT-EVEN-THE-AFTERLIFE BULLSHIT
>>
>>43897870
Let's be nice here, guys. Whatever yoinked us here is... At least capable of shit on our level AND getting rid of that croc-thing. Probably more and quite possibly just pulling our soul around.

That said, this is a decent plan:
>>43897901
Also, gonna say that I'd like to add this.

>"Ten years more or less? Since I started doing necromancy, probably; that's what makes me special. So what's going on?"
>>
Votes called. Writing.
>>
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It's either astounding or completely understandable, considering that you just died a violent and painful death, but you mostly feel /offended/. You stand up, pushing your had back, shaking with outrage.

"What in the unholy hell is this shit?" you demand. "All manner of things are supposed to be happening right now! I'm supposed to be JUDGED, and MEASURED, and SORTED, and then I will probably go RIGHT TO HELL according to all these fucking people who are always up in my shit about my /goddamn job/, where I'm supposed to be SLOW-ROASTED OVER GODDAMN COALS, AND WHY AM I IN A WAITING ROOM?"

The angel takes a drag on her cigarette. "Are you done?"

"NO I'M NOT FUCKING DONE! DEATH IS SUPPOSED TO BE MY JOB! MY PROFESSION! MY SLIGHTLY CONCERNING OBSESSION THAT MAKES PEOPLE WONDER IF I TOUCH CORPSES, WHICH I DON'T, I MIGHT ADD, AND...and...fuck it is hard to stay angry when your expression isn't even changing can you /at least work with me here/?"

The angel finishes her cigarette and flicks the butt away. "Not really. At least the river beast will be fed. You should be able to travel safely along the water now."

You stare. "Lady, I'm fucking dead."

"Yep. For the next minute."

"No, forever," you correct. "That's how death fucking /works/. Life is for the living, death is for the dead."

The angel quirks an eyebrow and lights a new cigarette. "Not gonna argue with you," she says with a shrug, taking a small puff and making a face. "These things are shit. Time's up, see you next death."

"Next -"
>>
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>>43898681
There is a soft bed beneath you, and warm blankets over you, /and you never went to sleep, what the fuck is this shit/.

You sit up and look around - and see your room at the Unlucky Bastard Inn. Your dust-grey coat is hanging on its peg, your hat on the bedside table, and morning light is filtering in through the window.

There is a polite knock on your door, and a familiar, equally polite voice says, "Just need your name for the records."

Oh. Kay then.

> Answer him, get dressed, go downstairs.
> Freak out.
> OUT THE WINDOW! FREEDOM! GLORIOUS FREEDOM!
> Go with it, but ask if you can spend some time in town before going to the Dungeon.
> Write-in.
>>
>>43898761
> Go with it, but ask if you can spend some time in town before going to the Dungeon.
>>
>>43898761
>> Freak out.
Le freak c'est chic!
>>
>>43898761
>OUT THE WINDOW! FREEDOM! GLORIOUS FREEDOM!

BAIL.
>>
>>43898834
Seconding this.
>>
>>43898761
>Pause in confusion long enough for the voice at the door to get suspicious and ask again. Then do whatever.
>>
Thread's archived now, so I don't forget to later.
>>
>>43898761
>OUT THE WINDOW! FREEDOM! GLORIOUS FREEDOM!

I don't even care if it's fantasy groundhog day. We make our way back to the tree that we hid our DIY phylactery in and ascend to lichdom ASAP.
>>
> Go with it, but ask if you can spend some time in town before going to the Dungeon.
>>
Calling votes, writing.
>>
>>43898761
>Freak out.

Seriously what is happening.
>>
>>43899490
Voting's already over. See: >>43899479
>>
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You hesitate. Your eyes go from the window, to the door, back to the window. Bail or stay? Bail or stay?

"Miss? I need your name for the records." The historian opens the door, eyes politely averted in case you are not decent - which, you note in that insane voice in your head that wonders what process was used to make the steel in the knives people try to stab you with, you are in fact decent - and holds a thick tome in one hand and a pencil in the other.

"Didn't...didn't you get my name yesterday?" you ask.

"I was abed when you arrived," the historian says apologetically.

"...When was that?" you ask. If you've gone back in time it ought to be the 4th of Blossom today, the with the equinox coming up.

"The evening of the 4th, miss," the historian says politely.

You /stare/. "Making today the 5th?"

"Yes, miss. I understand if you need some time. You have a weighty sentence ahead of you, I'm sure the Captain -"

"No, I'll be down in a moment," you say hastily. "Could you, um, take my apologies to Captain Marsh, and if it's not too much to ask could I eat some food before I go?"

"I'm sure that will be fine," the old man says kindly. "Miss...?"

"Oh! Brianna la Croix. Thank you, sir."

The historian records your name and leaves your room, leaving you to stare at the door. You're alive, just over or under 24 hours after you died.

And no one even remembers you entering the Dungeon.
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>>43899635
You throw on your hat and coat and head downstairs to a mostly familiar scene - Captain Marsh and his men await you, though this time you've got a hot meal and cold milk to go with it. You accept the plate gratefully and take a seat while the soldier stares at you.

"You can sit, you know," you mention casually. Death or no death, fucking with the guy is the least he deserves.

Marsh clears his throat. "As you know, you -"

"Captain, I understand the charges," you say gently. "...Please, let me enjoy my last decent meal. Actually...I was kind of hoping to ask you a favor. A perfectly legal favor."

"Such as?" Marsh inquires.

"I wanted to see Glen a bit. Get to know the town and its relationship to the Dungeon. You and your men can come with, or just a small escort, whatever, to make sure I don't run. I just need to check on some things."

Marsh looks to his men, then back to you. "I suppose that's acceptable. We cannot abide your use of illicit sorceries in the town limits, of course, but beyond that you need to be in the dungeon by sundown. Where would you like to go?"

> Supplies. Maybe you can pay in trade, somehow? You do know /some/ legal spells...
> Town has to have a carpenter or a mason or a blacksmith or /someone/ who knows about structures. Maybe you can get advice on navigating the Dungeon?
> Gods help you, the fucking church. Just. What the hell even is this?
> Write-in.
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>>43899818

>Stab the guards
>Steal a horse
>Go find the DIY phylactery
>Ascend to lichdom

Fuck these guys, we have ultimate power to attain.
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>>43899818
> Gods help you, the fucking church. Just. What the hell even is this?
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>>43899818
Does our emergency lich kit contain anything else that might be good in the Dungeon? Supplies are a good start of course, but so are spellcasting materials and anything else. Shit, coin to buy stuff with here wouldn't hurt. Related to which, could we get it, or would they be unwilling to take us out, or leave us with some of the things in it?

What is the cheapest thing we can make a bone construct from? Assuming that we either buy the corpse in the guise of food or buy it alive for something.
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>>43899975
Technically you could get a bone construct out of just about anything, but there's a matter of quality. A dead chicken is going to make for a shitty skeleton.

Fifty miles is a bit of a trip, and would be well outside their ability to take you there and back while remaining in the bounds of their duty to the law, to say nothing of attempting to persuade them to get you NECROMANTIC PARAPHENELIA.

You may, however, find the citizens of Glen potentially helpful. They see a lot of strange people and you're not even in the top 100 for fucked up shit that stays in town looking for help or favors. They have a long history with the Dungeon, and it with them.
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>>43899818
>Supplies. Maybe you can pay in trade, somehow? You do know /some/ legal spells...

Let's trade everything we have for as many chickens as we can possibly afford.

Bring them into the dungeon with us, slaughter and fillet them to keep ourselves fed.

Animate the corpses and have an army of small birds.

We're set, boys. We got this.
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>>43900035
I'll settle for a chicken skeleton. At the very least it can distract things, and we can talk to it if we get lonely.
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>>43899818
> Supplies. Maybe you can pay in trade, somehow? You do know /some/ legal spells...
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>>43899818
Supplies. Maybe you can pay in trade, somehow? You do know /some/ legal spells...
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>>43900035
Oh, certainly. But it would function as a scout. Though, if we're going for disposable things to poke about ahead of us, can we reanimate exoskeletons? If so, then getting a bunch of roaches and drowning them (to make sure the exoskeletons are undamaged) is probably our best bet.

That said. What do we know about these citizens?
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>>43900302
Mindless skeletons aren't so great for scouting, anon. Not because they can't move ahead, but because it's a bit hard to get them to report any data to you. That said, yes, you can animate creatures with exoskeletons, for whatever purpose you might think of for such a thing.

Glen itself is an isolated and fairly independant village. It's a bit populated for its size and does well for itself, and makes a brisk business buying and trading from people stupid or unlucky enough to enter the Dungeon and lucky or brave enough to come back out. Nominally part of the duchy of Starfall, Glen is mostly ignored as part of the unspoken understanding that any attempt to drop the hammer of the law on them will result in opening up very big doors to the Dungeon and letting very scary things out of it. They accept the practice of sending exiles into the Dungeon, but for the most part the law and soldiery is absent from the place, and marauding beasts keep a wide berth from it.
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Votes called, writing.
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>>43900394
This is all useful, but that wasn't quite my question: An overview of the town does not say a ton about what the people in it are like, aside from individualists who don't have a ton of relation to everything else; do we get any information on those who we might be going off to talk to, or do we simply not know yet?
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It's Groundhog Day, but a Roguelike.
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"I wanna pick up some supplies after breakfast here. Y'know, the usual. Rope, door spikes. Chickens."

The Captain gives you a flat look. "Chickens."

You eat in pleasant silence while he and his men give you the most suspicious looks you've seen. Well, not the /most/ suspicious, those belong to the fathers of various attractive people your own age in the villages you've passed through before, but...well, you digress.

The soldiers form up around you after you finish breakfast. You pocket your effects, tucking your grandfather's knife into its sheath, and hit the town.

The not-quite-spring morning is sharp and crisp, and Glen is already awake and about the business of its day. The platform at the top of the Oubliette waits patiently for you as you explore the shops and stalls, greeted by people who refer to you cheerfully as 'the latest Dungeoneer'. But each time the answer is more or less the same - they don't have any problems that could be solved by your particular talents.

You're seriously considering the value of melodramatically stomping on your hat in frustration when a pretty young woman with dusky skin and small, hard horns parting her red bangs approaches you. From the tough, many-pocketed clothes and coat, you're willing to bet she's the village healer.

"You're the necromancer right?" she asks, her accent both slurred and oddly musical. "I've got good coin if you can help me with this patient. There's something wrong with the boy but I can't pin the source of the ailment."

"That," you look back at Marsh, "sounds perfectly legal. Lead the way."

The boy, feverish and pale, has the taste of death in the air around him. He lays on a cot in the healer's home, wrapped in blankets and moaning faintly. You frown and produce a small talisman from your pocket, a stone with a hole through it on a chain of silver.

"What's that for?" Marsh asks, with more curiosity than suspicion.
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>>43901044
"Perception, examiniation," you say distantly. "Most magic users can find a use for a stone with a hole in. You murmur a soft prayer to the other side, and feel the Veil rustle in response. The boy's veins blacken beneath his skin before fading back to his normal color.

The healer and the soldiers look at you, and you remove your hat quietly.

"He's dying," you say softly. "I've read about it, never seen it. His blood is...flooding with life? But it's like weeds. The things growing in there are taking everything he needs to survive."

"Can you do anything?" the healer asks.

"Well," you say slowly. "I could kill him and revive him. It's messy, but it should, in theory, bring just him back. Except..."

"Revivification is illegal within the Duchy," Marsh says quietly. "...Though not within the Dungeon."

"You you seriously suggesting -"

"I have an oath, madam!" Marsh says, almost pleadingly. "You cannot ask me to turn a blind eye, not on the Duke's soil, not for a convict. If word got out that I'd permitted such a thing..."

You put your hat back on your head. "Well," you say slowly. "What if I caught you and your men, by 'surprise', with something disabling, and then 'escaped' into the dungeon after I was done?"

Marsh opens his mouth. And then closes it. Finally, he sighs. "I...might...be amenable to such a thing. But I would prefer that it not come to such...duplicity."

> Collect your money, do your shopping, take the kid into the Dungeon and then kill him.
> Collect your money, knock out Marsh and his men, kill the kid and then hightail it into the Dungeon.
> Pass. Being altruistic has literally already killed you once.
> Write-in.
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>>43901227
>Collect your money, do your shopping, take the kid into the Dungeon and then kill him.
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>>43901227

>Collect your money, knock out Marsh and his men, knock out the tiefling, steal a horse and run for the hills
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>>43901227
Forgot to mention - if you're taking the "do your shopping" option, please include some suggestions or requests for supplies.
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>>43901227
>Collect your money, do your shopping, take the kid into the Dungeon and then kill him.
Rub it in their faces that they're sentencing a good person here. If nothing else, we can hurt them with guilt. Also, we want to know whether dying inside the Dungeon will cause him to go all Groundhog Day or if it's just us.
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>>43901269

Uh, this. What's stopping us?
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>>43901427
>>43901269
Technically nothing but I bet we will be killed 500m out of the village
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>>43901427
You mean aside from having a conscience, proof there's something suddenly and horribly wrong with your life, still being a wanted individual and not knowing if the citizens of Glen are willing to impede your capture?

Nothing at all. That you know of.
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>>43901378
If it did, we'd already know that from all the adventurers who go in. Also, she said she was waiting for us specifically. And we have no way of knowing if the kid DOES come back regardless. Without getting nommed ourselves and potentially leaving his corpse there. This is... A very bad idea, frankly.
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>>43901520
We know very little about the situation in general. Maybe something changed about the Dungeon recently. Maybe we can pick up a "disturbance in the flow of death" or something while we're doing it. Also, we can give him a message and see if he remembers it if we die again.
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>>43901520
>>43901636
Err you know we are resurrecting him with necromancy?
The dungeon is not important in this.
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>>43901427
W are kinda established as being a good person here. Whether or not the citizens would try to stop us themselves just for running, we'd almost assuredly have to hurt people before they let us steal a horse. Which isn't a good thing to do in itself.

For that matter, right now, we have goodwill. If we get caught doing that, you can bet your ass those 'extras' that Marsh gave us will be gone. Also, for that matter, probably anything that we are not legally mandated to have will be gone, even if we've had it the whole time and unquestionably bought it legally. And most likely if we do that Marsh will have damaged us in getting us back, and resurrections or no, I'm not keen on going down there injured. Especially not since we don't know what the price of coming back is yet.
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>>43901662
It is for testing the resurrection mechanics. Which we cannot do. And which was the suggestion. The stupid suggestion.

Speaking of which, another point. We REALLY know it's not because we saw a ghost down there; people who are alive don't leave those.
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>>43901705
My bad, I didn't read the rest of his stupid.
I just read the vote.
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>>43901636
Huh. The message thing wouldn't be terrible, actually. But the thing is that A, it's not a true Groundhog Day thing - time passed - and B, testing that requires not bringing him back. Which is an issue since if it doesn't work we just killed the poor bastard.
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>>43901227
> Collect your money, do your shopping, take the kid into the Dungeon and then kill him.
>>
Anyway, let's go with
>Get supplies, take him into the Dungeon, kill him.

Specifics to come in a minute.
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Reminder folks - If you wanna go shopping, make suggestions as to what to acquire or you'll be left with generic dungeoneering supplies. Which won't be useless or bad to have but this is your shot to get specific stuff that maybe Bri thinks of in a flash of inspiration or that you have plans for down the road.

Right now the battle plan, if shopping happens, stands at:

> Rope
> Door spikes
> Small mallet
> Flint & steel
> Chickens
> Anyone selling kittens in this town?
> Medicinal herbs
> What about, say, puppies? Or old, dying dogs?
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>>43901662
We know something odd is going on with the normal process of life and death. So we look very closely at his soul while we're bringing him back to life, and see if being in the Dungeon makes it easier or harder.
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>>43901804
Just buy chickens
Literally nothing but chickens
maybe a turkey cause captcha suggested it
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>>43901804
Well we're going to need a towel and a 10 ft. pole at least. Make than an 11 ft. pole, to avoid all the 10 ft. AoEs.
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So. Right. Before I specify what I want us to buy? I'd like to know how much money we have, and the rough purchasing power of our current coinage. Also, do we get to prioritize our lists? And is the stuff we vote for meant to be everything we buy, or do we get it in addition to the basic stuff? And, finally, but definitely importantly, do we vote for our favorite lists, just items, or what, and depending on the answer there, do we just proceed in popularity order until all money is expended or can we have leftovers that presumably we won't need for a while, if at all?
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>>43901804
>Grappling hook
>Flour
>More knives
>Bottles of stuff
>If there's anything more magical which is commonly sold, buy it
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>>43901898
Most of these mundane supplies are bought on the cheap; really, the limit for stuff that's not magical, weaponry, or rare is "do I feel like lugging it around?" and "is it actually in Glen?"

Feel free to vote for or present lists. I'll keep an eye out for recurring items. I won't be doing precise currency tracking, because fuck that, I'm not an accountant. Item prioritization will be by vote first, and by inspiration second.

The basic list is on the table unless anon takes it off.
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>>43901804
> What about, say, puppies? Or old, dying dogs?
> Rope
> Door spikes
> Flint & steel
> Medicinal herbs
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Also, addendum to >>43901878 :
Do we specifically have to vote for courses of action counter to something, or are downvotes acceptable?
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>>43901946
That was me. Wrong trip, like a jackass.

>>43901955
I...am not sure I wanna deal with either of those things? I'll keep discussion in mind.
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>>43901908
Basically this, plus the base list.
>If there's anything more magical which is commonly sold, buy it
You should probably elaborate on what exists, if anything. Potions? Other alchemy type stuff?
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>>43901804
>Compass
>Maps of the dungeon if they exist, and stuff to draw our own maps with
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>>43901804

If we're shopping for animals, can we maybe wrangle it so that we can get paid for killing them? Say, putting an old and beloved family pet out of its misery because it's sick now or something. Or at least have it be an even trade for that reason.

Whether or not we can:

>Dogs. Dogs are good things. Kittens too.
>Food for the dogs/kittens/whatever. No point in killing them before we have to; that way if they die normally we can bring them back, and get two uses out of them.
>More knives would be good.
>A pack animal, please. Something strong but not hugely, well, huge. Donkey or even a pony.
>Possibly supplies to feed THAT but I'm less fussed there, it's not meant as a combatant.
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>>43902291
Oooh, yes. I like this. We need those.

>A compass, if they exist. Shit, a magic one that points back to the Oubliette might be even better, but that's probably harder so a mundane one is good enough, for now.
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Alright folks. I'm gonna call the thread for the night; if it's still usable when I can run again, I'll just bump it, but I've gotta find my bed and be up stupid early for work. Thanks for participating and what I hope was a good first run.

Questions? Comments? Feedback? This is, again, my first quest, and while I've gotten some quality pre-run advice I'm open to suggestions.

I also want to note that the river beast death was honestly kinda a cutscene kill to introduce the respawn mechanics; that is, you're not accountable for it, the scythe was coming down one way or another.



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