>>45984028

As you're pressing on towards the surface, struggling against the pain and fatigue that weighs down your body, you notice something odd. The miners have vanished, the open rock they had been slaving away at left abandoned and deserted. You couldn't say why – in the time it takes you to walk a dozen paces, you've considered just as many ideas. A prisoner revolt, perhaps, or a violent purge on Kurasu's orders. Maybe there is no deeper meaning – the convicts have merely been taken back to their cells for now, to keep them under guard.

It hardly matters. Pausing only to tear off a long strip of fabric from your shirt and bandage your head – more to hide the grotesque wound than anything else – you march on. When you hear some small sign of life – footsteps, coming from the entrance of the mines – you slow your pace and ease your pistol from the holster. Better safe than sorry. The scurrying figure that emerges, though, is no threat to you. The young guard that led you here, looking as nervous and harried as the first time you saw him.

“You!” he cries, “You're... alive? I was expecting-”

What, you ask as he falls into a deliberate silence, he was expecting to run across your body down here? The fact that he can't answer, or even meet your eye, is all the confirmation you need. Sighing, you prepare to push past him.

“Wait,” he insists, “I was told... if you were alive, if I could find you alive, Kurasu requested a moment of your time.”

Requested, you repeat, not demanded or ordered?

“I think, uh...” the young guard falters, “I think he's realised how bad things are, here. The townsfolk, also, sent up a representative. Both sides feel negotiations might go more smoothly if you're there.”

Maybe, just maybe, you can salvage something from this mess.

>Fine. I'll humour him
>No way. I'm done with him, I'm leaving
>Other

>>45984032
>>Fine. I'll humour him
Lets talk things over.

>>45984032
Take Milo with us. We can give him a better life at the nameless temple

>>45984134
I do think we should ask about getting Milo released. He'll probably die in the mines if we don't.

>>45984032
>Fine. I'll humour him
>Ask him who actually thought we'd come out alive.

I think we should point out that the god they've created "cursed" each and every stone they've dug out so far with despair and shits, even if it's not true not like they're expert on such things, is this the kind of thing they want to build the Emperor's raillroad on? Anyone who ride on it will take a portion of this despair wherever it will head out, spreading they same shit at their arrival point.

Yada yada, sure they're criminal scum but they're still humans, their suffering can cause shit to blow out if enough of them are in the same place for too long or something. Give 'em a pardon letter or something if they'd worked the mine for X times, and take a new crop of prisoners to continue the work.

Fine, you sigh, you'll humour Kurasu one last time. As soon as he starts throwing threats about, though, you're leaving. You're just not in the mood to put up with him right now. Speaking with Kurasu, you think to yourself as the nervous guard leads you away, would offer you a good chance of getting Milo released – the boy won't last down there, and he deserves a second chance at life. At the Nameless Temple, he might really have a chance to make something of himself.

Something to bring to the negotiating table, at least. You just hope Kurasu is willing to listen to reason. As you're preparing to follow the guard, a question strikes you. Who, you ask, expected you to come back alive?

“Captain Kurasu did,” the guard explains, “I don't know if he ever believed there was a god down there or not. He seemed doubtful, like it was all a scam to gain leverage. On the other hand, he thought that if anyone could deal with a god, it would be a Wanderer like you, sir.”

Huh. Surprisingly good logic, from a blustering tyrant like Kurasu. Nodding slowly, you let the guard lead on.

When the guard shows you through to the officer's chambers – as bleak and austere as you remember them – you can't stop your eye from widening in surprise as you see the “representative” sent up. Aya, sitting awkwardly on an uncomfortable chair as she waits for the discussions to begin. When she sees you, her face starts to take on a reassuring smile – a smile that tries to say “trust me” - but then the expression falls away as she sees your injuries.

You're going to have that effect on people from now on, aren't you?

[1/3]

>>45984326
damnit why did I laugh

File: Aya.jpg (18 KB, 254x736)

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>>45984326

“Well,” Kurasu says, his voice calmer and carefully humble, “I'm glad to see that you made it back, Wanderer. It is my hope that we can resolve this situation peacefully. So, for the benefit of all involved, I'd like us all to restate our positions, our... requests.”

“Demands” is the word to use, but he can't bring himself to say it aloud. The idea that the townspeople are demanding something must stick in his throat, quietly infuriating him.

Clearing her throat, Aya is the first to speak up. “Our requests are simple,” she begins, stumbling slightly on the “our” part, “We wish for the members of our protest group to be released, and for us to retain the right of protest. If not, we will resist – with force.”

“Force,” Kurasu can't stop himself from scoffing, “What force?”

“We have weapons,” Aya holds her voice steady, only flashing you a quick glance that urges you to wait for now, “A great many weapons, and hands willing to wield them. This town will burn, captain, and you yourself might end up facing the noose. I think we'd all like to avoid that, wouldn't you?” As the threat sinks in, Aya nods graciously towards the army officer, “But please, what do you say? Are you willing to cooperate with us?”

“I am prepared to make a counter offer,” Kurasu says slowly, forcing calm, “I will release your prisoners, and grant you permission to protest. However,” he pauses, holding up a bony finger, “You will not bring matters of faith into this. You protest on grounds of personal choice, not faith or superstition. There is to be no talk of gods or curses within this town. On that issue, I would like to hear from our expert. Tell me, Wanderer, what is the current situation in the mines?”

>There is no god. There never was one
>I destroyed the god. The issue is resolved
>The situation is this... (Write in)
>Other

>>45984368
>I destroyed the god. The issue is resolved

>>45984368
>I destroyed the god. But I still need to deal with its "prophet".
>I commend that faith will be left out of this, but I will need to make it clear either way that faith must not be used as an excuse by any means.

>>45984368
>I destroyed the god. The issue is resolved

>>45984368
>>I destroyed the god. The issue is resolved
Not really sure how we could say there wasn't a god.

>>45984368
>>I destroyed the god. The issue is resolved

Keep this up and he'll come back tho, and I won't bother should he come back.

>>45984474
we'd have to call it a blasphemy or something, something that should not have been woken.

>>45984413
Maybe we should keep Tobin out of this right now, else they might use him.as a scapegoat and not take any blame.

>>45984510
It might be okay if we don't refer to Tobin by name. Just say that we'll speak with the leaders of the faith and leave it at that.

>>45984510
true.

>>45984368
leaving Tobin out of >>45984413

The god is destroyed, you tell Kurasu, but the issue isn't quite resolved yet. You're going to need to speak with the one at the heart of this faith. Just speak, you add firmly, to make sure they understand the situation. This is something you'll take care of – Kurasu is not to start making arrests, not unless he wants this situation to collapse in an instant.

You decide to leave Tobin's name out of it. The boy might be trouble, but he doesn't deserve to find himself in Kurasu's sights.

“Very well,” Kurasu decides after taking a moment to calculate the situation, “I leave this matter to your discretion.”

Nodding, you give the captain a measured look. You commend his decision to negotiate, you tell the old man, and his choice to exclude matters of faith from the situation. However, you add, you want to make one thing clear – this faith should not be used by either side. Not as motivation for a rebellion, and not as an excuse for punishment. Let the faithful be, or he'll invite repercussions.

“Again, I agree,” Kurasu allows a cold smile onto his face, “The people can protest however else they like.”

And as you recall, you think bitterly, they didn't have much luck with that. No matter what they claimed, there was always Imperial propaganda running contrary to their words, smearing them and making them look bad. No matter how you look at it, Naoha and Tobin are a pair of young men, not particularly smart, up against a well-oiled machine. The odds were stacked against them from the start.

[1/2]

>>45984596

With your bitter thoughts left unspoken, Aya is the one to fill the silence. “Well,” she declares, “I think we've made good progress. We might, in fact, have a deal. Any last comments to make?”

This will happen again, you warn as you're leaving, if things don't improve around here. Next time, you might not be around to help with the situation.

“Your comments will be taken into account,” Kurasu replies with a cold voice, growing weary with the discussion, “Now, are we finished here?”

>Yes. I'll live up to my side of the bargain. You'd better do the same
>There was a prisoner I wanted freed. A boy, too frail to be of any use in the mines
>I had another condition to discuss... (Write in)
>Other

>>45984613
>There was a prisoner I wanted freed. A boy, too frail to be of any use in the mines

>>45984613
>>There was a prisoner I wanted freed. A boy, too frail to be of any use in the mines
The nameless temple always needs bodies, think again if you think it's not punishment fit for the crime, in his case this punishment was harsher than his crime.

>>45984613
>There was a prisoner I wanted freed. A boy, too frail to be of any use in the mines
Let's lie a bit. "He knows too much about the god, so I will make sure he stays quiet."

>I had another condition to discuss... (Write in)
A copy of the report he submits to the Emperor. We have time enough while recovering from the face wounds, so Kurasu's got no excuse to stall. And if he's going to whitewash and submit a different report, he needs to submit both copies at the same time to us and the actual messenger.

>>45984613
>There was a prisoner I wanted freed. A boy, too frail to be of any use in the mines

>>45984679
I approve the copy of the report thing

>>45984679
There's a risk they might just have Milo silenced if you make him more important than he is.

Honestly I don't think the Captain cares about one convict as long as he can get Ira out of his town.

>>45984679
I'm going to sleep, so I may as well elaborate.

We could pass the copy over to Aya for some top-tier scandals.
We could pass the copy over to Mentor and work out the first of many deals between the Nameless Temple and the Empire to smooth things out for everyone involved.

We could do both these things WITHOUT the report, admittedly, but now the pressure is on for Kurasu because someone is actually watching him.

>>45984746
you think so? Perhaps.

There was one other thing, you add, a prisoner you'd like to see released. A boy, too frail to be of any use working in the mines. He won't last many more days, if Kurasu keeps working him like this, and you'd rather not see him drop dead. He is a criminal, true, but his crime has hardly earned this punishment. Milo, the boy's name is, although you don't know his family name.

“Conspiracy to murder,” Kurasu replies after a moment's thought, “And you think he should be allowed to walk free?”

No, you say as you shake your head, you think he should be sent to the Nameles Temple. You could always use more bodies there, and the work he'd be doing would be less brutal than mining. Besides, you add with a slight lie, the boy has information about the god here. Keeping him here would be a risk, he might easily reignite the situation. If he's dying down in the mines, you suggest, what does he have to lose?

“If he is a risk to security here, it would be quicker to hang him,” Kurasu tells you, “But... I see your point. His death might cause further problems, unrest among the other prisoners. Very well, Wanderer – in the interests of keeping the peace here, I can see about having him transferred. Not freed, but sentenced to indentured servitude at your temple. It won't be a quick process, not with all the paperwork, but he will be kept out of the mines until it is resolved.”

Excellent, you nod, and while you're on the subject of paperwork you'd like to see his reports. What he tells the Emperor about this debacle, he tells you as well – in writing. You won't let him whitewash this situation, you tell the captain sternly.

For a moment, Kurasu merely glares at you, open hatred flashing across his eyes. Then, grudgingly, he nods. “It will be done,” he growls, “Now get out of my sight. When you return, I will have your... paperwork.”

[1/2]

>>45984817

“Hey chief,” Aya asks quietly as you're leaving, walking back down into town, “Where did you learn to negotiate like that? Because I've seen people playing tough, and that was some next level stuff!”

You're pissed off, you tell her simply, that tends to give you good motivation.

“I guess I don't need to ask why you're angry,” glancing across at you, Aya can barely bring herself to look at your face, your wounds, “Looks like it was a close one. What happened down there, what could you see that made taking your own eyes seem like the better choice?”

That, you point out, is not up for discussion. You've got more important things to ask – like, what's this story about weapons?

“Ah,” Aya forces a small laugh, “Something I cooked up with Naoha in a hurry. It's not a complete falsehood but, well, maybe it's better if you hear it from him. Something he decided to “forget” when we first spoke.”

And now he remembered, you think aloud, conveniently enough. Time to have a word with Naoha, perhaps.

“Yeah, uh, listen...” Aya pauses, “Your face. I mean, you only came here because of me. So, what I'm trying to say is...”

>You owe me for this, Aya
>It was a risk I took willingly. Don't blame yourself
>This is not up for discussion
>Other

>>45984836
>It was a risk I took willingly. Don't blame yourself

>>45984836
>>It was a risk I took willingly. Don't blame yourself
Part of being a Wanderer.

>>45984836
>It was a risk I took willingly. Don't blame yourself
There is a job. It Is Done. Part of being a Wanderer is handling things like this.

>>45984836
>It was a risk I took willingly. Don't blame yourself
I was overconfident.

>>45984836
>>It was a risk I took willingly. Don't blame yourself
I want you to do something though, I want you to learn to look upon me without cringing of feeling ashamed. This is a lesson for you to learn, sometimes things turns bad, and you have to live with them and face them.

>>45984836
>It was a risk I took willingly. Don't blame yourself.

>>45984912
We're we? I think we just had bad luck.

>>45984926
lol wtf she's not our apprentice

>>45984941
We knew people were clawing their eyes out in there but we went anyway without worrying about it

>>45984964
She's a journalist, at some point one of her story will fuck someone's life up, she needs to man up or she won't be able to do her job properly the next time because she'd wonder if she should risk the life of people in order to get the real story or something.

>>45984993
Pretty sure he was worrying about it, but that's what taking a risk is.

Which is what he is telling Aya right now.

It's part of the job, you reply with a shrug, part of being a Wanderer. Sooner or later, you start to leave bits and pieces behind when you move on. It's a risk you took willingly, just like you take every day of your life. She shouldn't blame herself – it's done now.

“That's... pretty magnanimous of you, chief,” Aya laughs in relief, as if she'd been expecting you to curse at her or demand compensation, “I gotta say, I don't know if I could be so understanding if I was in your position. I guess that's why you're the one doing the risky business, while I just write about it.”

At least it's not a career ending injury, you remind her, you've still got the other eye. Next time, you won't be so overconfident – you thought you were tougher than the first victim, less likely to fall victim to tricks and illusions. There's just one thing you want her to do.

“Yeah?” Aya asks, “You're not going to ask me to keep an eye out, or watch your back or anything, are you? Because I don't know if I have the stomach for jokes like that...”

You want her to look at you without cringing or turning away in shame. You want her to see this as a lesson, that things sometimes go badly. When they do, you explain, all you can do is live with them and move on. Keep moving forwards. That, you finish, is what you want her to do.

Turning, Aya looks up at your face and holds her gaze there, letting her eyes wander over the deep gouges and the bloody rag covering your empty socket. Although she's pale by the end of it, she doesn't look away. “You take after your boss, huh?” she asks eventually, a smile wavering on her face, “Got a lesson for everything and all.”

Age, you tell her with a shrug, offers a certain wisdom. Plus, you've heard the Mentor giving enough speeches for you to rattle a few off by heart when the situation calls for it. Now, you tell her, it's about time to spoke with Naoha. Tobin can come next.

[1/2]

>>45985076

“Ah,” Naoha says softly as you pass across the note Tobin gave you, “I see he's not improved any, wherever he is. I'm glad he's okay though – if things start to quieten down here, he'll probably make his way back into town soon. I know why you're here, though – you want to know about that little story we cooked up, don't you?”

That's right, you tell him, Aya said there was a grain of truth in it. Does he really have a stash of weapons hidden away somewhere?

“A few of us have rifles or swords, but there's no secret stash,” Naoha folds the note carefully, tucking it into his pocket, “There could have been, though – we were offered weapons. It happened, I think, just when things were getting serious. People were starting to take our side, fearing what he were saying about judgement and all. We'd just finished a meeting, and then this guy came up and started talking to me. He said he could give us all the weapons we'd need, the kind that even the Emperor's soldiers couldn't match.”

You know where this is going. He doesn't remember what the man looked like, you sigh, but he wore a-

“No, I remember,” Naoha interrupts, “He was young, barely a man. He spoke like an older man though, one with an education. Actually, he spoke a little like you do – smart, like. He offered to give us as many rifles as we wanted, no payment needed.”

So why didn't he accept the offer?

“It seemed like a trap,” Naoha shrugs, “If there was direct evidence we were plotting rebellion, the soldiers would break us up in an instant. I didn't think it was worth the risk, or the bloodshed.”

He made a smart choice, you remark, but now...

>You need to stop talking about this “god”. Bury it, and never mention it again
>I'm going to visit Tobin next. Do you have a message for him?
>I had a few more questions for you... (Write in)
>Other

>>45985133
>>You need to stop talking about this “god”. Bury it, and never mention it again
>>I'm going to visit Tobin next. Do you have a message for him?

This rifle benefactor sounds like one of the turned Wanderer apprentices.

>>45985133
>>You need to stop talking about this “god”. Bury it, and never mention it again
It wanted to die, your belief kept it alive. Let sleeping dooms lie.
>I'm going to visit Tobin next. Do you have a message for him?

>>45985133
>You need to stop talking about this “god”. Bury it, and never mention it again

>>45985133
>I had a few more questions for you... (Write in)
>>45985211
adding in

Can you draw the young man's face? There's been a group of people trying to stir things up. See if they kid matches a missing apprentice pic.

You need him to stop talking about this god, you tell Naoha bluntly. Bury it, you urge, and never speak of it again. The thing craved death, a death you were able to grant it, but their belief would eventually draw it back into the world. It doesn't matter how he goes about it, but you need him to stop word of this god travelling any further.

“That's going to be difficult,” Naoha admits, “People know about the victim, the man who clawed out his eyes. Can we really pass that off as... what?”

A misguided fool, you suggest, that had fallen prey to hysteria and a delusion. With faith driving them blindly on, men are capable of doing incredible things – and terrible ones. If it helps, he should tell his protesters that you found nothing in the mines. No god, and no malign influence beyond toxic rumours and speculation. It'll work, you decide, because people will want to believe it, accepting whatever excuse they can get to live without fear.

“I can do that, yes,” Naoha nods slowly, your idea taking root in his mind, “I think you're right, the people will go for it. Tobin might not be so easily convinced, but... well, if Kurasu backs off, he might lose interest pretty quickly. He can be like that, you know?”

You've grasped that. Speaking of Tobin, you add, is there any message he'd like you to take to the young poet?

“I suppose... just tell him that it's safe to come back,” with a weary smile, Naoha shrugs, “He might not believe you, but it's worth a shot.”

You'll do that. Before you leave, though, you've got one request for him. Could he draw the man who offered him those weapons, perhaps? Even a rough sketch would help – you're looking for a gang of troublemakers, and this young man might fit the bill.

“I'll do it,” Naoha nods, “I'll do my best.”

[1/2]

>>45985449

His best, as it happens, is pretty damn poor. Even so, you can definitely recognise the face he has scratched out onto a sheet of Aya's notepad. Beyond a doubt, it's a face you've seen drawn – in much greater detail – on a missing person poster, back at the Nameless Temple. One of the missing apprentices, now peddling rifles to protest groups.

Troubling. What's worse, you're certain that Aya's eyes lit up with the same recognition, even as you tear the sheet of paper away and fold it into your pocket. She'll have questions about that later, no doubt about it. For now, though, she keeps silent. Thanking Naoha for his time, and reminding him about his duties, you leave the shack and start out towards Tobin's hideout in the woods. You make it halfway there before you bump into the poet himself, looking somewhat less wild than you're used to.

“Oh,” Tobin says as he takes a step back and looks you up and down, “You're the one that brought me lunch, aren't you?”

That's what he remembered?

“Well, yes,” he scratches his head, “Everything else is a little fuzzy, actually. Sometimes I get these funny turns, you know, where I can't quite think things through. I hope I didn't say anything foolish...”

“Lying,” Aya mouths to you as Tobin looks away, watching a pair of birds shift in the tree branches above, “Playing dumb.”

>You really don't remember anything about, say, a god?
>Drop the act, Tobin
>You can go home now, Tobin, it's safe for you there
>Other

>>45985599
>Drop the act, Tobin
"Your 'fake' god is dead."

>>45985599
>Drop the act, Tobin

>>45985599
>Drop the act, Tobin

>>45985599
>>Drop the act, Tobin
Stop being that paranoid, it's that shit that kick started Zulathoon

>>45985599
>>Drop the act, Tobin
>>Other
Shut up, go home and stop wasting my time.

Drop the act, you tell Tobin coldly, it's not fooling anyone. His fake “god” is dead, and there's nothing he can do about it.

“What?” Tobin recoils, “No, I mean, what are you talking about? Why would I know anything about a god?”

The god he dreamed up and spread among the townspeople, you explain with deliberate patience, the god he used as the backbone of a protest group. That faith, that belief, gave it true life – and you took that life away, at the god's own request. Now, you need him to stop talking about it, to strike the god's name from his mind, even.

“Okay, wait a minute,” Tobin says slowly, his eyes immediately growing focussed and calculating, “I want to get one thing clear – I didn't mean for it to happen. I didn't even know for sure what WAS happening. Just, when that guy ran into town with his eyes... gone, I panicked and ran. Out here, I started to think maybe I could...”

Take advantage of the situation, you ask, is that it?

“Well,” Tobin shrugs, a note of defiance entering his voice, “I didn't want to die down in those mines, did I? I'm not suited to brute labour like that, I'd be broken in half within the first day! I'm an artist, don't you-”

Shut up, you sigh, and go home. He needs to shut up about this “god” of his, for good, and stop wasting everyone's time.

“If I do, if I never mention it again...” Tobin licks his lips, looking as sly as ever, “That'll be the end of this, right? You won't mention it, or make trouble for me?”

If that's what it takes, you tell him in a voice of sheer frustration, yes. It'll all end here, and you'll never trouble him again.

“Capital!” the scumbag cheers, clapping his hands together and scaring away the birds shuffling above, “I knew you were the type to listen to reason, stranger. I'll just, uh, go then. It's about time I got a decent meal in me, after all.” Stepping carefully around you, Tobin hurries away towards town, vanishing into the trees.

[1/2]

>>45985996

No matter how distasteful you found Tobin to be, once he had shed every false personality and shown you his true self, the poet was certainly more pleasant to be around than Kurasu. At least Tobin, you think, wouldn't have you shot dead at the slightest excuse. From the vile look Kurasu gives you as you enter his office, he's just hoping for a reason to throw you both into the cells.

“My report,” he says flatly, pushing the thin paper across to you, “Two copies. Take the other to the nearest outpost for me, won't you, and have it sent to the capital. Perhaps then you'll trust that the Emperor will get the “right” version of events.”

Flicking through the report, you find everything to be in order. An admission of overly brutal tactics and oppression, complete with a suggestion that he – Kurasu – be assigned different duties. It's carefully written to cover him and protect against any serious criminal charges, but there is nothing in it that's explicitly false either. A sly piece of reporting, but one that is acceptable enough. He'll probably be called back to the capital because of this, you remark, but isn't that what he wanted?

“Then we both get what we want out of this, Wanderer,” the captain says venomously, “And the boy. The prisoner. He will recover here, in town, and then travel to your temple when he is well enough to make the trip. Assuming, of course, all the paperwork clears. That's out of my hands, though – not MY problem. Is that it, or do you want to demand more of me?”

>I did have one demand... (Write in)
>That was everything. Excuse me, I need to deliver these messages
>I hope we don't meet again, Kurasu
>Other

>>45986156
>>That was everything. Excuse me, I need to deliver these messages
>I hope we don't meet again, Kurasu
For your sake

>>45986156
>>I hope we don't meet again, Kurasu

>>45986156
>That was everything. Excuse me, I need to deliver these messages

That was everything, you confirm, and now you need to go and deliver these messages. Excusing yourself, you take the papers and turn to leave. At the doorway, you pause and turn back. You hope you don't meet again, you tell Kurasu, for his sake as well as your own.

“Watch your back, Wanderer,” Kurasu says, already trying to brush you off as he turns his attention to his desk. Only the sight of one fist, trembling with suppressed rage, gives an idea towards his true feelings. “The capital can be a dangerous place,” he adds, “Guards can make mistakes, shoot the wrong man. These things happen.”

You're sure they can, you remark coolly as you leave. You don't bother to respond to the threat – if that's what it takes to protect Kurasu's fragile ego, you'll let him have his small victory. It's not worth making an issue of it.

As you're leaving the town, you notice the difference in the mood already. The signs have been taken down, their loud claims of judgement and punishment confined to piles of trash and splintered firewood. Without such accusations looming from every corner, people seem to move with a lighter step, their faces calmer than you've seen them. The violence that hung over the town is no more – although it's still far from a paradise. No matter what, you're still glad to be leaving.

“Hey chief,” Aya mentions as you're riding out of town, “My offer's still open. If you want to come by the capital, my father might be able to tell you something about that old man and his pistol. Though, if you're not in the mood...”

>No, I want to know. To the capital, then
>I need to return to the Nameless Temple as soon as possible
>I had other plans... (Write in)
>Other

>>45986446
>No, I want to know. To the capital, then

>>45986446
>No, I want to know. To the capital, then

>>45986446
>No, I want to know. To the capital, then

Cast Mandy's spell to heal up some.

>>45986446
>>No, I want to know. To the capital, then
It could be important information.

No, you decide, you want to know what he has to say. It could be important, and the capital is close enough that it's worth investigating. Despite Kurasu's pathetic threat, the capital should also be safe enough – you'll not be risking your life by asking a few questions there. Even so, you use the time to heal up a little, closing some of your wounds.

>Health increased to 65

“Nice, great!” Aya responds with surprising enthusiasm, “We'd better stop off at the outpost like Kurasu said, though. I want to send a bird ahead of us, actually – just my early notes about this, nothing special. No mention of any god, though, so you don't need to worry about that!”

You weren't worried, but you're glad that Aya was able to grasp the importance of the situation. Discretion can be just as important as revealing the truth. Perhaps it's a lesson that she's taken to heart already, because she doesn't ask you anything else as you ride into the outpost. Upon leaving, though, she finally speaks up. From the way the question spills from her lips, it's clear that she had been wanting to ask it for quite some time now.

“Hey, Ira, that guy Naoha drew, the one offering to provide them with weapons...” she pauses, as if waiting to see what information you volunteer. When you say nothing, she continues. “Well, don't you think he looked like one of your missing apprentices? I mean, I sure thought there was a similarity...”

This is a tricky issue. If you close up completely and offer her nothing, she might very well do the same. On the other hand, sharing too much could be just as bad – either driving the cult underground or provoking them to attack. It might even make her a target, drawing their wrath down upon her.

>He's fallen in with a bad crowd, that's all
>There's a conspiracy in the works, an attempt to start a war against the Emperor
>Aya, I can't tell you about this. It's not safe
>Other

>>45986797
>He's fallen in with a bad crowd, that's all

>>45986797
>He's fallen in with a bad crowd, that's all
"And yes I am being purposefully vague. Its not safe to give you the full story. Please trust me on that."

>>45986797
>He's fallen in with a bad crowd, that's all

>The next post will be slightly delayed, I'm afraid. I need to take a short break. No longer than 30 minutes, I expect

>>45986797
>>He's fallen in with a bad crowd, that's all
>>45986964
Waiting warmly.

You decide to give her a political answer, one that gives her the the truth without ever saying anything at all. He's fallen in with a bad crowd, you explain, that's all.

“Is that right?” Aya raises an eyebrow, “You know, I'm not surprised. A lot of people are angry these day, and kids like him are angrier than most. You know, when I was doing a little research about the Dragon's Head Massacre – you know, hearing what people were saying – you know what I found? Some folks were blaming you guys, the Nameless Temple.”

What, you snap, that's absurd!

“Not for carrying out the attack, I mean,” Aya is quick to add, seeing the look on your face, “Some people – and it's only a few, really – resent the neutral stance you've taken. This minority of folks, they think there's a war coming and they want to see which side you're going to take. So, if a kid gets sick of your Mentor's neutral path, he might well run off and get in trouble, you know?”

The worst thing about her theory, you think, is how close to the mark it is. You didn't want to consider it before – the possibility that the apprentices had defected, rather than being kidnapped – but it's all too possible.

“Say,” Aya changes the subject quickly, “You're not holding out on me, are you? Keeping me in the dark, perhaps?”

Your answer was pretty vague, you admit, but it was for a reason. It's not safe to give her all the details at the moment, and you can only apologise for that. For now, it's out of your hands. Aya considers this in silence as you ride, eventually shrugging.

“It's fine,” she decides, turning to give you a wink and a smile, “I'll figure things out eventually though!”

You just bet she will. The rest of the trip to the capital passes with lighter conversation, easier things to talk about.

[1/2]

>>45987412

Night is starting to fall when you reach the capital, but Aya is still able to guide you – with the easy certainty of one raised in a city – through the streets towards her house. The Lower Residential district is no nicer this time around, but she seems to regard it with a kind of fondness. When you reach her awkward, crooked house, she leads you to the building next door. The office, she tells you, where her father is likely to be found.

Aya's father – Tark Hinamaru – is one of the largest men you've ever seen. Although starting to turn to fat, his frame is still clad in a thick layer of muscle. What immediately draws the eye, however, is his fantastically waxed moustache, worn in open defiance of fashion trends. Upon shaking your hand, he takes one look at your wounds and orders Aya to get a pot of tea brewing. Strong tea, he insists, can cure many ailments.

“So,” he barks after Aya has laid out the details, “You want to know about the old man, huh?”

The old man, you repeat, doesn't he have a name?

“I don't, if you can believe that,” Tark laughs, “You know, he never gave me one – and I never asked. Strange, now you mention it. Stranger still that it never felt odd to me until now. Anyway, I first met him when I bought the printing press, beautiful machine, from an old friend of mine. He was a young man when he bought it, and I was young when I bought it off him. I bought it, but it started sticking not long after. I asked, and my friend sent him, the old man, over to fix it. Genius with his hands, that one.”

And he was old, you confirm, even then?

“Even then,” Tark nods, “So he couldn't be alive now, could he?”

You think of the Mentor then – old, even when you were young – and shrug, avoiding the issue.

>Can you remember what he looked like?
>Did you ever talk much?
>And you've not seen him in years?
>Here's a question for you... (Write in)
>Other

>>45987613
>Can you remember what he looked like?
>Did you ever talk much?
>And you've not seen him in years?
>Here's a question for you... did he ever wear a steel ring?

>>45987613
>>Can you remember what he looked like?
>>Did you ever talk much?
>>And you've not seen him in years?

>>45987613
>>Here's a question for you... (Write in)
Why did he give Aya that pistol?

Can he remember, you ask, what this old man looked like? And, you add a moment later, if he ever wore a steel ring of some kind?

“Bald,” Tark says as he searches his memory, “Beardless, as well – old folks tended to wear beards when I was younger, don't know if they still do or not. He had scars though, like little pits all over his face. He joked, once, that something blew up in his face – only, I don't think he was joking. One of his eyes was off as well, all white and cloudy. Might have been blind, maybe.” Tark takes a deep sip of his tea, practically emptying the clay cup, before continuing. “I never saw him with a ring like that, though. Man like that, the kind that spends most of their time with their hands buried in some machine or another, he tends to wear gloves through.”

The fact that Tark was able to recall the old man's face is evidence enough. If he is the same man who is travelling the land under a disguise, he didn't have it back then. So, you ask next, did he ever talk much?

“He talked,” Tark nods, “About his travels, places he'd been and things he'd seen. The usual stuff you hear from anyone who lives on the road – I wager you could tell the same kind of stories he told. He'd talk your ear off about the things he invented, though – like the printing press I mentioned. Lies, I always thought, or just rambling. I never took those bits very seriously. Oh, let me think though...”

Glancing across at Aya, she shrugs and gives you a helpless look. Not something she can offer much comment on, apparently.

“There was one time he stopped by unannounced,” Tark begins, “He was drunk, I think, and complaining about the way the world was going. I still remember it well, actually, even after all these years.”

[1/2]

>>45987995

“He said...” the burly man pauses, as if picking the right words, “He said that one day, we'd all live IN towers, or we'd live UNDER them. Great towers of glass and metal, he claimed, that could touch the sky. Only then, we'd need to get rid of the gods – because then we'd be claiming their homes, up in the clouds. He wasn't very clear, but he was... distraught.” Tark pauses again, as if the memory pained him. “After that, he wasn't in the mood to say much. I let him sleep it off here, but he was gone in the morning. Never saw him again.”

He never saw the old man again, you try to confirm, and this was years ago?

“That's right, I've not seen him in, oh, years and years. Couldn't even tell you how many,” Tark produces a pipe and begins to fire it up, “I wish I could see him again. The old press isn't as healthy as it was, and folks these days don't understand it like he did.”

Either he's dead, you guess, or in hiding. Either way, you keep your theories to yourself. Did he ever say, you ask, why he gave Aya that pistol?

“I think he liked her,” Tark smiles faintly, “She liked his machines, showed an interest, so he gave it to her when she started going out chasing the news. It was like he was giving a child a toy, but also... also like he was testing it out. Whenever she got back and they saw each other, he'd ask her how it performed, what needed to be better. Seemed to me like he wanted someone to give it the real life treatment and see how it lasted.”

And then he moved onto more deadly things, you think, like rifles that spit bullets faster than anything else.

“I hope that helped,” Tark scratches his head, “Don't get much chance to think about the olden days, so I've got to thank you.”

>No, thank you. I won't bother you any longer
>Just a few more questions... (Write in)
>Other

>>45988136
Where did he make the guns?

>>45988136
>>No, thank you. I won't bother you any longer

So we have an inventor all about progress that wants the gods gone for mankind to advance. I could see him being coerced by our cult to join them and make weapons for them if they also champion the same ideal or just said some pretty words at him to rile up his idealism.

>>45988216
I'm not sure about that. The way he was supposed to be distraught said to me that he didn't like that idea of the future. Like he preferred having the gods around.

I can't be sure about that though. Personal interpretation.

Did he ever say where he made the pistol, you ask, or where his workshop was? You can't just pluck a gun out of the ground, or bash it together in the middle of a field. Especially, you add, not one so well made as the one he gave Aya. That was sophisticated technology, bordering on a work of art.

“I don't think he said,” Tark says after thinking the question over, “If he did-”

“South,” Aya says suddenly, “When he gave it to me, he said he was coming back from a trip out south. I can't be sure, but he might have made it there. And, you know, he wasn't exactly specific about it – the south is a pretty big place.”

South – the mountains at the border. It all fits together. Realising that your face has slipped into a deep frown, you shake your head and give Tark something approaching a smile. You should be thinking him, you announce, for all his help. You won't stick around and bother them any longer. Privately, you'd like to make a quick exit – you like Aya's father, but you've never been one for lingering and enjoying someone else's hospitality. You'd rather just bed down in an anonymous inn and be gone by first light, already on the road back to the Nameless Temple.

Before Tark can begin the inevitable invitations, insisting that you stay for a meal or some other pleasantries, there is a heavy knock at the door. Pounding against the wood, the sound of a fist wrapped in metal armour is unmistakable. That's a sound that can only mean one thing – soldiers. Cursing Kurasu's blood, even though you have no way of knowing if this is truly his doing or not, you wave for Tark and Aya to step back. Drawing your pistol and hiding the weapon behind your back, you creep over and open the door a fragment of an inch, ready for whatever might await behind it.

[1/2]

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>>45988526

Stepping aside, the guard that had been hammering on the door moves away to reveal a familiar face, although it takes you a moment to put a name to that face. Ra Caltiff, you recall, the Emperor's head advisor. Now, you think with a sense of impending doom, what would bring him here?

“Ira Furyo,” the man says smoothly, “I heard you were here.”

Really, you reply calmly, and how did he do that?

“Ways and means,” a slight smile crosses Ra's face, “I make it my business to have eyes everywhere. It's only sensible for a man of my position, wouldn't you say?” He waits a moment to see if you're going to answer that – you don't – before continuing. “Ira, please, I'm not here to cause trouble or throw you into a jail cell. Did you really think I'd come here to do that personally? It's not even my department!”

Alright, you say, so why IS he here?

“I'd like you to come with me, to the palace,” Ra offers, “The Emperor wishes to speak with you. As would I, in fact, although for very different reasons. The Emperor, you understand, can be very specific about what he wants – he gets ideas into his head and runs away with them. One of those ideas, it seems, is meeting you personally.”

Did he really need a squad of soldiers – exactly ten, you count – to bring you this news?

“No,” Ra shakes his head sadly, “Those are for if you caused trouble. Some people might, you know, if I knocked at their door. Please, this is perfectly safe – shall we walk alone and speak privately, or would you prefer an armed guard?”

>We can walk alone. I'm not going to run anywhere
>We'd better take the guards along. For your sake
>I'm not coming with you. Arrest me, or leave me alone
>Other

>>45988715
>>We can walk alone. I'm not going to run anywhere

>>45988715
>We can walk alone. I'm not going to run anywhere

>>45988715
>We can walk alone. I'm not going to run anywhere

>>45988715
>We can walk alone. I'm not going to run anywhere

>>45988715
>We can walk alone. I'm not going to run anywhere

>>45988715
>We can walk alone. I'm not going to run anywhere
Let's humor them

>>45988715
>We can walk alone. I'm not going to run anywhere
I knew this was going to happen eventually. Rip it off. Like a band-aid.

Walking alone is fine, you agree, you're not going to run anywhere.

“Excellent!” Ra smiles, broadly this time, and claps his hands. At the crisp, clear sound, the soldiers behind him begin to disperse with more efficiency that you've ever seen in a group of soldiers. None of those soldiers, you think wryly, will ever mention anything about this in the morning. Something about that bothers you, the secrecy of it. Either ignoring your discomfort or oblivious to it, Ra turns and leads you away.

For someone who wanted to speak privately, you think after a few silent moments, he doesn't have a lot to say. Just as you're about to say something yourself, Ra speak up.

“I know what people say about me,” he says calmly, “The overbearing advisor, guiding the naïve young Emperor and ruling from the shadows. It's such a cliché at this point, wouldn't you agree, Ira?”

Well, you reply, maybe. That doesn't mean it isn't true, however.

“A good answer,” Ra chuckles, “I will admit, I had designs on “guiding” young Sho's actions for a time. In recent years, however, the boy has become impulsive – uncontrollable, in fact. He barely listens to my advice, choosing instead to pursue... whatever flights of fancy occur to him. The railroad, for example. Did you know that he decided that overnight? He woke up one morning with a drawing, a ring of metal that encircled the land, and said that it had to exist. He wants to make his mark on the world, no matter what.”

And what, you ask as you walk, does Ra want?

“Like most men of my... our age, I don't like change,” Ra's voice turns humourless, “Especially not when change can lead to war – or worse. That's why I've been working with the Mentor, to try and mediate the worst of the Emperor's excesses.”

[1/2]

>>45989070

You consider Ra's words as you press on through the streets – the cleaner streets of the High Residential district now. He was one of the minds behind Miura's possible engagement to the Emperor, wasn't he?

“Something decided between me, the Mentor, and Maab. I can't say I trust the head priestess – she has her own motive, I'm sure – but I feel a marriage between our two cities would be greatly beneficial.” Ra slips a metal device – a pocket watch, you've heard of those – out and peers at it, seemingly pleased at what he sees, “I must thank you, by the way, for keeping Miura safe.”

You were hardly going to let her die, you point out.

“True. You're a good man, Ira,” Ra nods, “That's why the Mentor trusts you. That's why the Emperor is intrigued by you. Come, we have some time before he can meet with you. Are there any issues you wish to ask me about? I cannot, of course, guarantee that you'll like the answers I have to offer though.”

>Let's just get this over with
>Did you know why the Emperor wanted to see me?
>Did you realise that Maab is Miura's mother?
>What do you really think about this railroad?
>Tell me a little about... (Write in)
>Other

>>45989232
>Did you know why the Emperor wanted to see me?
>What do you really think about this railroad?
>Tell me a little about... (Write in)
Have any more information about the third party our kidnappers belonged too?

>>45989232
>Did you realise that Maab is Miura's mother?
>What do you really think about this railroad?

>>45989232
>>45989276
this

>>45989232
>Did you know why the Emperor wanted to see me?
>Did you realise that Maab is Miura's mother?
>What do you really think about this railroad?
>Tell me a little about... (Write in)
The Emperor. I'm still very uncertain as to why he would wish to speak to me. Anything you would advise against while speaking with him that isn't obvious?

>>45989232
>>Did you know why the Emperor wanted to see me?
>>Did you realise that Maab is Miura's mother?
>>What do you really think about this railroad?

To say you've got questions you'd like to ask Ra would be an understatement. Start with the easy ones – does he know why the Emperor wanted to see you?

“Curiosity is one factor,” Ra says, “Your name came up some time ago after that affair in Dumas. Tawn Moriya spoke very highly of you – and continues to do so. Perhaps the Emperor merely wants to see you for himself, although he did also mention a “gift” he had. Something he acquired in secret – which, I won't lie, bothers me.”

A mysterious gift, and you get the feeling that refusing it won't be an option. Moving on, you ask a question that had been nagging at you. Doesn't Ra know that Maab is Miura's mother?

“I...” Ra falters, something that you can't imagine is a common occurrence. “It seems,” he says stiffly, “That my agents are not as thorough as I had hoped. That would explain certain things, and the head priestess' interest in seeing the girl married. I must thank you, Ira, for bringing this to my attention. It doesn't change anything, but it will be useful knowledge in the days ahead.”

He really didn't know? Neither Maab nor Miura was particularly careful about hiding it – and that's not even getting into the issue of Ra's agent within Selene's temple. Filing the discrepancy away for later, you move on. The railroad, you ask, what does Ra really think about it?

“In truth?” Ra gives you a bitter smile, “I think it's a disaster waiting to happen. The worst combination of needless provocation and senseless vanity. I'm almost convinced the Emperor wants this war – he seems intent on starting one, at least as much as our... other friends.”

[1/2]

>>45989738

Yes, you nod, the third party. Has there been any new information uncovered about them?

“Nothing that we've been able to confirm,” Ra lowers his voice, “But I've had reports from agents in... various areas... that suggest their numbers are far greater than I previously thought. Wherever my men have infiltrated, they have their agents as well. This is not a recent occurrence, Ira, even if the visible effects of it are.”

That worries you, and not just because Ra is being so open about his network of agents. True, it was something of an open secret that he was also the Emperor's spymaster, but still. He must trust you already, if he's speaking this frankly. Frowning slightly, you ask him if there's anything you should avoid talking about when you see the Emperor. Any matters of protocol?

“It's a fairly informal meeting,” Ra explains, “So you shouldn't worry about politeness or titles. However, I would ask that you avoid talking about his parents – either of them. Also, I would prefer if you keep Miura out of the discussion. That's still something of a secret, at this very moment. Over than that... I trust your discretion.” As Ra falls silent, you hear a bell chiming. “The Emperor will be here soon,” Ra informs you, “If you have any last questions, ask them quickly.”

The Emperor, you ask, is meeting you here? In the middle of the High Residential district?

“It's more private than the palace,” Ra remarks with a faint smile.

>Wait for the Emperor to arrive
>Ask a few last questions (Write in)
>Other

>>45989913
>Wait for the Emperor to arrive

>>45989913
>Wait for the Emperor to arrive

>>45989913
>Ask a few last questions (Write in)
Has he heard of magical steel rings? Either in legend or where some might be made?

Waiting for the Emperor to approach, you let your gaze wander around in search of any life. Without any real familiarity with this part of the capital city, you can only guess at where you are, exactly, but it seems to be a decorative square of some kind. There is a fountain gurgling away softly, and a few trees positioned at strategic corners. A nice place, the kind of place that young lovers would stroll through at night. Not tonight though – you can only imagine the guards blocking off any entrances.

Hey, you ask Ra as the bell grows closer, has he ever heard anything about steel rings? Magic ones, either real or legendary.

“Your archives will have more information than I can give you,” Ra tells you quickly, “Start your search with the “Ring of the Faceless”, and you'll find the answers you seek.”

Nodding your thanks, you turn at the sound of footsteps. Sitting atop a palanquin held aloft by masked servants, you see the young figure of Sho Tatsuhiro, third Emperor of the Tatsuhiro line. Fresh faced and lively eyed, he wastes little time in rising and leaping down from his litter, rushing over to shake your hand.

[1/2]

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>>45990384

“Ira Furyo, Ira Furyo,” he says eagerly, “Can I call you Ira? I'm going to – I'm the Emperor, I can call you what I like. I've been waiting a long time for this meeting, you should really visit the capital more often. Wonderful city, don't you think?”

You were not prepared for this. Glancing over at Ra, the older man offers you a helpless shrug. This, you realise with a pang of sympathy, is what he has to deal with every day.

“No matter,” Sho shrugs, “I hear you're making yourself very busy these days. Dumas – what a mess. Glad I had you available. Tell me, Ira, would you consider working for me again?”

Well-

“Working for me,” the Emperor adds, “Full time?”

>My loyalties lie with the Nameless Temple. I'll offer you my help if you need it, however
>I think you have a lot to offer. Count me in
>I'd never work for you. Once was enough
>Other

>>45990403
>My loyalties lie with the Nameless Temple. I'll offer you my help if you need it, however
Nope

>>45990403
>>My loyalties lie with the Nameless Temple. I'll offer you my help if you need it, however
Tempted to call him "kid"

>>45990403
>My loyalties lie with the Nameless Temple. I'll offer you my help if you need it, however
"Thank you for the offer however."

>>45990403
>My loyalties lie with the Nameless Temple. I'll offer you my help if you need it, however

>>45990403
>>My loyalties lie with the Nameless Temple. I'll offer you my help if you need it, however

Thank you for your magnamimous offer Your majesty,but I am an old Man, and I am not getting any younger. Every writ could very well be my last. Me losing my eye is proof of that. I would be an unsound investment.

>>45990403
>My loyalties lie with the Nameless Temple. I'll offer you my help if you need it, however

>>45990528
You don't need to get too formal. I can't see Ira sucking up that hard.

Your loyalties lie with the Nameless Temple, you tell the Emperor carefully, but you're prepared to offer your help if he needs it. Mutual cooperation, you add, would be preferable to serving one master exclusively.

“Indeed?” the Emperor sounds a little startled, as if he is unused to people refusing him. Or, you think a moment later, as if he was expecting a more violent refusal. Perhaps the offer of cooperation was the unexpected part. “Well...” Sho tilts his head slightly as he thinks, “Can I ask why?”

You're an old man, you tell him with a shrug, too old to be jumping from one job to another. Besides, you've had a recent injury – one that reminded you that every writ you serve might be your last. You'd be a poor investment, you tell the boy, but you have to thank him for his offer. It was a very generous one.

“Yes, it was,” Sho frowns a little, “But I'm glad you're open to future cooperation. After all, you've proven yourself capable of efficient and capable service. Dumas,” pausing and licking his lips, Sho repeats the same as if it was some exotic delicacy, “Dumas...”

Yes, you say with a hint of confusion, it was a mess. Like he said.

“I'll be honest with you, Ira, since we're speaking plainly,” the Emperor paces around you, circling you as you look straight ahead. It's a wonder he can walk at all – he wears precarious sandals, made from lacquered wood. “I have little interest in devoting my time and resources to securing territory that might rebel at any minute. These island folk, you know, think in strange ways. Sooner or later, they start getting curious ideas – independence, say, or governing themselves.”

[1/2]

>>45990860
Moloch can you link the map again? I don't remember islands.

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>>45990919

>Here it is.

>>45990919
Wait scratch that. I remember now, the case with the strangling.

>>45990860

Perhaps you're missing something, you say carefully, because you're not sure what he's implying.

“My gift to you,” stopping before you, Sho plants his hands on his hips and meets your eye, “Dumas. I'm giving it to you. The whole island.”

“My lord...” Ra begins, sounding even more surprised than you are, “Are you-”

“I'm certain,” Sho nods, “I want you to have it. Owning land is a great privilege, Ira. You said you're an old man? Well, now you've got somewhere to retire and see out your days! And you can claim a title – Baron, Lord, I don't know, whatever you like. Of course, there are responsibilities that come with it. You'll make the rules, yes, but you'll also enforce them. Or appoint someone to enforce them in your place, that's always an option.”

Ra looks over to you, looking at you with... what? It could be pity in his eyes, or perhaps just simple confusion. This whole affair has him surprised, bemused and uncertain. Not a man, you realise, who likes to be taken by surprise.

“My lord,” the advisor speaks up again, slower this time, “I urge you to reconsider. A gesture on this scale could be seen as-”

“Nonsense!” Sho cries, “The papers have already been signed. The ink, as they say, has dried!” Delving into his robes, he pulls forth a scroll and unravels it, showing off a long list of formal script. “Welcome, friend, to the life of luxury!”

You don't want an island. You never wanted an island.

“This is legally binding,” Ra says slowly as he takes the scroll and skims it, “And...”

And, you finish as you take the scroll and read it, you don't have a choice in the matter. The island, it seems, is now yours.

>I'll end things here for tonight, I think. Next thread on Tuesday, and I'll stick around in case there are any questions!

>>45990998
>Giving random people land cause it might rebel.
This kid plays Crusader Kings 2, I know it!

Thanks for running Moloch.

Uh, what do we do with an island? Also does that make us a noble? And can't he control nobles more than Wanderers?

>>45990998
Maybe we can pull a fast one and says a wanderer isn't entilted land for as long as he is in service and that the Temple is in charge of the island?

>>45990998
What. Why even? Seriously.

Oh, and thanks for the run.

But what the fuck.

>>45991058

We don't really have to do much with it - I'm not about to turn this quest into managing an island or anything. We have the option of just appointing someone else as the leader of the island, for example, if we don't want to have anything to do with it. We could also donate it to the Nameless Temple, as >>45991101 suggests

This does, technically, make us nobility as well, but that doesn't change much. We won't be forced into politics, and we don't really have any extra power either. The worst Sho can do to us is strip us of the lands he just gave us, so that isn't much power.

It does give us access to the local scenery though, which might prove useful!

>>45991171
>It does give us access to the local scenery though, which might prove useful!

That is a good point. Wasn't one of main gods still buried under the underwater ruins we encountered.

>>45991217

The sunken city close by was said to belong to Nodens, yes.

>>45991171
>>45991265
Did you enjoy throwing a curveball at us like this? What was everyone's reactions when they hear/will hear?

>>45991348
"I lost my eye and became nobility."

"I don't know which is worse."

>>45991348

I like to keep a few surprises in store, yes!

Reactions, well. Howa will be very impressed - after all, Ira is now a member of the landed gentry. Koa might be less pleased, since he has some experience of what Dumas was like. Aya might be tempted to write some flashy story about it, but she'd likely keep that within the realms of a joke. The Mentor, of course, would keep his opinions very close to his chest.

>>45991458
Would Mentor like to set up a hands on training school there?

>>45991502
'Hands on' hehe.

Get it? Cause strangling gloves.

>>45991502

It's certainly a good idea. The Nameless Temple, I feel, would have a lot more use for the island than Ira himself. It would be a good place to launch research trips from as well, given the nearby ruins.

When it comes to deciding what to do with the island, I'll include that as an option. It's probably the best choice!

>>45991563
What was Ra's reaction? How bad did Sho through him for a loop.

>>45991838

Badly. Ra is growing increasingly concerned with Sho's habit of doing stuff like this - random whims that he then invests a lot of time and effort into pursuing. Dumas itself isn't particularly important to Ra, but stability is. If Sho can't be anticipated and kept under control, that's a problem!

>>45991927
It seems odd Ra knew of the ring we were talking of by name.

>>45991563
Well have to set up a temple to Nodens there too

>a ring of metal that encircled the land
Hehehee, this seems bad...

>>45992333

The first time I wrote that part, I automatically wrote "a ring of steel". It's actually just a coincidence.

>>45992309

Not only did he know exactly what it was, but where best to find the information on it. Suspicious!

>>45990998
Wow, uh, that was unexpected. Who the hell is going to oversee this? Howa?