File: Tawn.jpg (194 KB, 1066x1599)

194 KB JPG

>>46091588

When you were last here, the town was a blasted place – hammered by storms and rocks falling from the mountains above. Things have improved since then, the worst of the damage repaired and tidied away, but the mood is a dark one. Before, the town had the air of one under siege, the residents drawing together to share the worst of the burden. Now, though, that community spirit has vanished. The few townsfolk you see walking the streets pause as you pass them by, studying you with mingled worry and suspicion. The reason for anxiety is all too clear – there might still be a killer among them.

A small measure of comfort comes when you run into a familiar face. Even with a black band of funeral cloth around his arm, like most of the people you've seen about town, Tawn Moriya stands out like a sore thumb. At a distance, he seems almost womanly – a harsh contrast with the tough looking locals – but drawing closer reveals the truth. As he greets you, you can appreciate the hard note of pragmatism in his face and words. He studies you, your wounds, for a moment before putting the issue aside.

“You're keeping well, Ira,” the note of vague irony in his voice is the only hint that he is anything les than sincere, “It's good to see you again.”

It's good to see him too. You really mean that – having someone here that you trust to watch your back is fortunate indeed. Why, though, is he here?

“I was sent here to investigate Garl's murder, and to safeguard the ruins above. The Emperor seems quite interested in what might lurk here,” Tawn pauses for a moment, meeting your gaze, “But I came here for the funeral, to pay my respects. It's tomorrow, I believe.”

>You said you were here to investigate. Can I be of assistance?
>This is a temple matter, Tawn. I'll handle the investigation
>Tell me, how are things in the capital?
>Other

>>46091600
>You said you were here to investigate. Can I be of assistance?
>Tell me, how are things in the capital?
>Have you heard about the island I received?
Sup Loch

>>46091600
>>You said you were here to investigate. Can I be of assistance?
It might be better for us to be the ones to check out the mountainfolk, while Tawn deals with the locals and ruins.
>>Tell me, how are things in the capital?

do we tell him what we know about the guns?

night moloch, got an exam tomorrow

>>46091600
>>You said you were here to investigate. Can I be of assistance?
>>Tell me, how are things in the capital?

>>46091687
I reckon we should. He might be able to check around for anyone else in the capital who met the old man.

>>46091641

>Hello!

>>46091687

>Good luck with the exam, then!

So, you ask as you shake his hand, did he hear about the island you were “given”? It's the sort of thing you'd expect to make it into the local gossip.

“I heard about it,” Tawn offers another thin smile, one tinged with the same irony as before, “A fine reward for a Wanderer, wouldn't you say? I don't envy it to you though, I'd rather not have to deal with the troubles of managing it myself – just promise you won't start asking me to bow and call you “my lord”.”

That's a promise you can comfortably make, you assure him, but you should get down to business. He said he was here to investigate things – could you be of any assistance?

“I'd welcome the help,” the Imperial agent lets his gratitude show through in his voice, “I don't know if I'm very welcome here – and that's down here, among the civilised folk. I'm not sure if I'd be safe dealing with the hillfolk. Garl managed to win their trust – or so it would seem – but I can't claim the same. It's early days yet, and it might not come to dealing with them. I've got some tasks to handle down in town first, I'll let you know about those in a moment.”

Nodding, you ask Tawn about the capital – have there been any important developments there?

“Perhaps. One of the papers ran a lurid story about conditions at one of the Emperor's mining towns. He must be taking it seriously, because he sent some men to investigate it,” Tawn grimaces a little, “I suspect he's looking to protect his image more than anything else. It caused quite a stir, at least, which I won't complain about. There was another matter which has been making some waves, one I'm glad is being drowned out.”

Another matter, you repeat, it sounds serious. Something to do with your cultist friends?

“Maybe,” Tawn glances around at the empty streets, “That's what it looks like, at least.”

[1/2]

>>46092037

“You see, not long before I left to come here, we received a message from an army officer. The officer claimed that he had been approached in a tavern, only for the stranger to start asking strange questions. Was he happy with his position in the army, for example, and was he willing to use force against civilians.” Crossing his arms as he thinks the issue over, Tawn pauses slightly. “The stranger never quite strayed into treason or any dangerous issues, but it was enough to put the officer on guard. He gave them the usual answers – careful neutrality – until the stranger left. Then, recounting as much detail as possible, he sent us the story.”

That sounds, you suggest, like the cult was trying to recruit him. Perhaps they need experienced soldiers to fill out their ranks?

“That seems likely,” Tawn agrees, “What nobody wants to consider, though, is the idea that this hasn't been an isolated encounter. What if there are others out there, officers willing to be swayed to the other side? We might have to consider elements of the army to be compromised.”

Just like with the deserters who were guarding Miura, you point out, only they were just in it for the money. This sounds like the cult is going for the officers directly.

“Yes, perhaps. The officer in question was known to be one of the more faithful ones in his region, so that might be why he was approached. It's an ongoing situation, at least,” Tawn shrugs and forces a brighter expression, “Enough about that though, is there any information you'd be willing to share?”

[2/3]

>>46092136

The guns they were using, you begin, might have been designed by someone who spent time in the capital. A mechanically minded type, innovative and well-travelled. According to the witness you interviewed, he was an old man claiming to have invented, among other things, the printing press. You can't verify it though, you add, so it might just be a dead end. Regardless, it's a lead you're willing to share. Maybe Tawn can ask around in the capital for anyone else who knows about a freelance mechanic or craftsman?

“I'll do that,” Tawn nods slowly, filing the information away, “Or rather, I'll put the word out. Ra has... a network, shall we say, that might be better at gathering information. For now, though, I'd like to talk about the situation here – I've got a few places that might be worth starting with.”

Name them, you tell him, and you'll let him know what you think.

“First of all, the body,” Tawn grimaces, “It's a ghoulish task, but it needs looking at. I don't think there was anything like a doctor here, so there might be information they missed. Next off, I'd like to search the temple itself – that was Garl's home, so he might have left something behind. A note, a journal, or maybe even just a letter he was yet to send. Last of all...”

The hillfolk, you guess, right?

“Right. Garl was asking questions, from what I've been able to learn. Maybe one of them got him killed,” Tawn raises an eyebrow as he waits for a response, “Where do you want to start, then?”

>The body. Better handle that before the funeral
>Check for any evidence in the temple
>Go and seek out the hillfolk to ask them about it
>Other

>>46092189
>>The body. Better handle that before the funeral
Hopefully it's in a decent condition.

>>46092189
>The body. Better handle that before the funeral

>>46092189
>The body. Better handle that before the funeral

Best to start with the body first, you decide, and then see where that leaves you. They tend to cremate bodies around here, you tell Tawn, so you'll only get one chance to examine the body. Has he any idea what he's looking for?

“I'm not a doctor, but I have some training in this kind of thing,” Tawn has the good grace to look a little worried by the prospect, “Checking for poison, whether or not certain wounds were inflicted before death or after... there are some things you can learn from a corpse. It's dirty work, though, so I won't blame you if-”

You won't turn away, you interrupt, you're here to learn what happened just as much as he is. You'll get to the bottom of this, and if that means doing some dirty work – so be it.

“Good to know,” rummaging in one of his pouches for a moment, Tawn produces a rag and a small bottle of oil. When he opens the little bottle, you smell a strong perfume scent filling the air. Grimacing, Tawn splashes some of the liquid onto the rag and ties it around his mouth and nose. Preparing himself for the worst, you realise. Prepared, Tawn leads you away. “I asked around earlier. They keep bodies slightly outside the town, in a special building. All these rituals and ceremonies...”

They keep people happy, you remind him as you spy the drab looking building. It's easy to recognise – long streamers of black cloth catch the wind and flutter freely, telling anyone who glances across that there is a body in storage. When the wind turns, you catch a faint odour of decay. It'll only be worse inside.

Wordlessly, Tawn offers you the flask of scented oil as you fumble for a rag.

[1/2]

>>46092542

They said it was hard to recognise Garl's body. They weren't kidding.

Tawn grunts slightly in disgust, turning away for a brief moment before steeling his resolve. It's surprisingly difficult to see Garl like this, laid out on a stone slab with only a shroud to cover him. His brow is crushed, caved in by some terrible force, and his jaw juts out to one side. Darker bruises and jagged lines of split skin mark his body, but it's those two terrible wounds on his face and head that are the worst. Swallowing hard and taking a shallow breath in through your mouth, you lean down to take a closer look.

“It would have been quick,” Tawn offers, “Once they hit him here, in the brow. Instantaneous, I'd say. Still, these other wounds...”

He would have suffered, you finish simply. Drawing the sheet a little further back, you point to a dent in his ribs. That, you tell Tawn, what does that suggest?

“Hit a man there, and he won't be able to breathe,” Tawn suggests, “He wouldn't be able to cry out for help. That was probably the first blow. Hold on...” Grimacing at the thought of what he must do, Tawn peers closely at Garl's shattered forehead. “There's something here, stuck in the wound.”

A splinter of wood, you realise as Tawn plucks the item free and holds it out to you. Not just wood, but fresh wood – with some traces of bark still clinging to it.

“I'd say...” Tawn shakes his head, “I mean, it's hard to be sure...”

>A club. A primitive weapon
>Maybe he knocked his head against some furniture. Perhaps his attackers didn't want to kill him
>It's too early to say what caused this
>Here's what I think happened... (Write in)
>Other

>>46092660
>A club. A primitive weapon
Or maybe
>Maybe he knocked his head against some furniture. Perhaps his attackers didn't want to kill him
Though I couldn't say why someone would want to brutalize the old man
>It's too early to say what caused this
I don't want to start pointing fingers but I'll give you one guess as to who is most likely to use a wooden club,

>>46092660
>>Maybe he knocked his head against some furniture. Perhaps his attackers didn't want to kill him

The first hit was to make sure that he couldn't scream, then the other wounds may have been attempts to get information, and the took his own life to keep him from talking?

But does the furniture have 'fresh' bark?

>It's too early to say what caused this

>>46092660
>>A club. A primitive weapon
Sounds more like a tree branch. I don't think furniture would have bark on it unless it was really crude stuff.

It's possible, you suggest, that this was an accident. Or rather, an attack that went too far – perhaps his attackers didn't intend to kill him, but in the struggle he ended up knocking his head against some furniture.

“We could check that out easily enough,” Tawn points out, “The locals shouldn't have taken anything from the temple – not if they have any damn respect, at least – so any bloodied items would still be inside. Unless, I suppose, the killers broke the item in question down and took it with them. Would they really have time to move furniture though?”

The noise could have woken someone up, you agree, so that seems unlikely. You're still unsure as to who would benefit from attacking Garl – were they trying to get information out of him, or were they trying to shut him up? And if it was a deliberate murder, they must have used a pretty primitive weapon – a club, say. You won't want to point any fingers just yet, but you can only think of one group that might use a crude weapon like that...

“The hillfolk,” Tawn muses, “Truth be told, I suspected them from the start. Civilised men wouldn't do something like this.”

Having spent some time in Pit Progress, you think to yourself, you have far less expectations of what “civilised” men. Sighing aloud, you point out that it's too early to be sure of what caused this. The best thing to do is focus on gathering as much information as possible before making a move.

“Right,” Tawn nods, “The temple, then, to look for clues. Ira, something I wanted your opinion on before we head over there. Do you think the cult could be involved in this?”

>I don't think so. This isn't their style
>I can't rule it out just yet
>They have a hand in damn near everything else these days
>Other

>>46092938
>This isn't their style
But
>I can't rule it out just yet
They could have manipulated the hill folk.

>>46092938
>>I can't rule it out just yet

>>46092938
>>I can't rule it out just yet
>>Other
Would they benefit from having Garl killed?

>>46092938
>I don't think so. This isn't their style
But
>I can't rule it out just yet

Too little info to say who did what. We can only guess

This isn't their style, you point out, this kind of personal brutality. Of course, you're not prepared to rule it out completely – they could have manipulated the hillfolk into carrying out the act. The main issue you have right now, you think aloud, is whether they would benefit from murdering Garl. What advantage would it bring them?

“Titanos doesn't have an organised priesthood in the same way that, say, Selene does,” Tawn theorises, “But still, Garl had a certain status as the informal head priest of Titanos. If the cult was able to get one of their supporters into Garl's position, they could use it as a way to concentrate their power. It might be worth keeping an eye on whoever comes to replace Garl. Just as a precaution, of course.”

The idea of keeping what might be an innocent man under surveillance on such tenuous information doesn't sit quite right with you, but this isn't the place for that debate. For now, you need to concentrate on what you can prove. With that thought in mind, you reach out to the temple door. Pausing only for a moment – a man died here, and respect is to be expected – you enter the hallowed ground.

Not so hallowed now, unfortunately. The main area of the temple isn't particularly damaged or defiled, but the small rooms towards the back – Garl's private chambers, perhaps – are a different matter. The furniture in those modest chambers has been smashed and overturned, papers have been torn up and scattered, and the walls themselves are flecked with spots of blood.

“Damn it,” Tawn curses, “There's no way of telling if they took anything. This place is a complete mess.”

You'll just have to do what you can, you assure him, and search for anything that might be significant.

>Please roll 1D100 to search, aiming to beat 30, 50 or 70. I'll take the highest of the first three

Rolled 14 (1d100)

>>46093240
Rollin

Rolled 5 (1d100)

>>46093240
Who's ready for sub 30 rolls?

Rolled 53 (1d100)

>>46093240
Pls

The majority of the scattered papers, you soon learn, are easily discounted. Most of them, in fact, are blank and awaiting their contents. Writing, you think with sudden bitterness, that will never come. There are several letters from the Mentor here – brief inquiries about aspects of the ruins or personal remarks about Garl's health – but they are too old to be of any real significance. Some of the pages are from book, torn up and scattered about by whatever vandals attacked. One of the few intact books you can find was once a journal – with a few surviving pages clinging to the binding. Recent entries, you realise with excitement, that might offer some relevant information.

Reading Garl's cramped handwriting isn't easy, though, so you put the journal aside for now and focus on the rest of your search. Turning your attention to the furniture, you count various items. A desk, a pair of chairs and a small amount of storage. There can't be anything missing, you guess, because the few items that are here barely fit into the small rooms. There simply wouldn't be any room for extra items. None of the items you can find are bloodied, either – not significantly, at least.

“So it wasn't an accident,” Tawn remarks darkly, “I'd hoped, but...”

It was murder, you agree sadly, bloody murder. But enough mourning – you need to keep moving forwards. The journal, then, to see if Garl was onto anything significant. Peering at the writing, you begin to read.

[1/2]

>>46093554

“These hillfolk are confounding, and yet not without their merits” the journal reads, “Deception does not come naturally to them – to the point where they are eager to blurt out the truth. Only later do they hastily try to correct themselves, leaving the truth as plain as day. One such occasion occurred when I asked them about their culture. The first man I asked briefly mentioned a “king” before his fellows hushed him. After that, they all claimed to be nomadic, without any organisation or hierarchy. Not, I should add, that they used such lofty terms.”

“Monotheistic,” the book continues, “The hillfolk worship Titanos alone. In fact, they do not even acknowledge other gods as divine beings – a strange thing to see in this day and age. According to the version of their faith that I was able to learn, they were not the first to worship Titanos. The original worshippers – the meek ones – were weak, and Titanos punished them for that weakness. Recognising their strength, he took the hillfolk to be his new flock and gifted the mountain to them. An interesting way to interpret history, perhaps.”

“All inquiries about the ruins continue to be met with silence, vague warnings or feigned confusion,” the last journal entry reads, “The presence of the Emperor's men is causing friction. In my next letter, I'll recommend replacing them with some local troops. The Emperor won't be happy with that idea, though...”

“So?” Tawn asks, “What do you think, anything significant there?”

>The hillfolk seem to have a leader
>They seem faithful, but not as we'd recognise it
>The Emperor has soldiers stationed here?
>Other

>>46093573
>The hillfolk seem to have a leader
One that they try to hide.
>They seem faithful, but not as we'd recognise it
>The Emperor has soldiers stationed here?

All seem relevant.

>>46093573
>The hillfolk seem to have a leader
>They seem faithful, but not as we'd recognise it
>The Emperor has soldiers stationed here?

>>46093573
>>The hillfolk seem to have a leader
>>The Emperor has soldiers stationed here?
We're probably going to have to speak with the hill folk soon. We might need to watch what we say to them.

The hillfolk, you begin, seem to have a leader of some kind. One that they try to keep secret, or to hide at least. Depending on how seriously they take any kind of information leaking out, that might be a possible reason behind Garl's death. He knew about their king, so the hillfolk stepped in to try and keep the information from spreading any further.

“Then perhaps we should avoid mentioning that, if we happen to meet them,” Tawn says, a vague attempt at humour in his voice, “We wouldn't want to cause offence, would we?”

That's another thing, you point out, they're faithful. That's not unusual in a land like Tenngaru, but their faith seems different – to the point of denying any gods other than Titanos. You've got to consider that Garl might have provoked some kind of outrage by mentioning other gods. True, he was a priest of Titanos, but he was also a Wanderer in his previous years – he would have had knowledge of many gods, and perhaps some of that slipped through into normal conversation. It's a pretty steep punishment for a little knowledge, though.

“Hmm, I'll have to make sure the soldiers are on guard. I don't think any of them are particularly faithful, but it wouldn't hurt to check,” Tawn taps a finger to his forehead, as if making a note there.

Garl's journal mentioned soldiers, you ask, when did the Emperor send men down here?

“Not long after the ruins were uncovered and word reached the capital,” Tawn replies, “Eight men, with two guarding the entrance to the ruins at all times. They work in shifts, spending their free time in town. I'm told that they helped with rebuilding after some avalanches here, so the people tolerate them well enough. Do you think they might have provoked the hillfolk?”

[1/2]

>>46093573
>The hillfolk seem to have a leader
But they sort of hide that
>They seem faithful, but not as we'd recognise it
Extremely devoted to Titanos
>The Emperor has soldiers stationed here?

We might be able to rule them out on the grounds that people so devoted to Titanos woudnt kill someone like Garl

>>46093981

They seem to view the ruins as sacred ground, you suggest, or somewhere men shouldn't go. Having soldiers stationed at the entrance might well cause problems – but then, wouldn't the hillfolk target the soldiers?

“A pair of armed men, versus one old man,” Tawn points out, “These barbarians are nothing but trouble – and now they seem to be more organised than we first thought. This could turn into a war, Ira, if we push into the ruins.”

It could, you agree cautiously, but it won't be much of a war if you've only got ten men between you. There's a limit to what superior weapons and armour can do to balance out the weight of numbers. That said, if you want answers you might not have a choice – you might need to confront them, or take the ruins by force.

“It's getting late,” Tawn says after a moment, understandably reluctant to consider the possibility of open conflict, “The funeral is tomorrow – we should probably wait until afterwards to make any serious moves. Any last thoughts, then?”

>None. I'll see you in the morning, Tawn
>I want to see if I can find these hillfolk. Sooner, rather than later
>What if their leader is hiding within the ruins?
>I had something I wanted to say... (Write in)
>Other

>>46094050
>What if their leader is hiding within the ruins?

>>46094050
>What if their leader is hiding within the ruins?
After that train of thought
>I'll see you in the morning, Tawn

>>46094050
>What if their leader is hiding within the ruins?
Good place to hide a secret king
>None. I'll see you in the morning, Tawn

>>46094050
>>What if their leader is hiding within the ruins?
>>I had something I wanted to say... (Write in)
Could the ruins have more than one entrance? I feel like the guards would notice if the hill folk were coming and going at night.

There is one idea you've been thinking over ever since you read about this elusive king. What if, you suggest, their leader was hidden within the ruins? It would explain why the hillfolk are so keen to keep people away from the place.

“Hold on,” Tawn argues, “The ruins were buried until very recently. Unless they've moved their king within the past few weeks, he couldn't have been living there. None of the hillfolk could – they wouldn't be able to get in or out. Even now, we'd be able to see them moving through the entrance.”

Unless, you point out, the ruins have more than one entrance. The hillfolk have been living on this mountain for a lot longer than anyone down in Foothills – if there were other entrances, the hillfolk would know about them. The mountains are scattered with caves, it's not impossible that one or more of those caves could lead beneath the mountain. It would offer the hillfolk a chance to slip past the soldiers as well – something they'd need, if they had murder planned.

“Damn,” Tawn murmurs, “You're right. That's something I hadn't considered. If I'd known that, I would have brought more soldiers with me when I came here. Nothing to be done about that now, is there?”

You'll both have to rest lightly, you warn him, but that's all you wanted to ask for now. You'll see him in the morning – hopefully.

“Sure,” Tawn sighs, “Joke about it, if it makes you feel better.”

It doesn't, and you weren't joking. That probably makes it worse, somehow. Shrugging, you set off to look for an inn.

[1/2]

>>46094361

As it happens, the closest thing to an inn that Foothills has is full up, occupied by the soldiers taking their rest. Apologising, the innkeeper was quick to direct you to one of the neighbouring houses. They would be happy to offer you a room, he claimed, since you're here to perform the funeral. A friend of Garl's, he added as you were leaving, is a friend of the town.

In that case, you think as you're leaving, the town can't have many friends. Rather than knock on the first door you see, you take a slow wander through the town in order to settle your nerves. The air is cool, and the village is quiet enough that you can hear every one of your footsteps. Walking at random, you think about what you're going to say at Garl's funeral. He wouldn't be one for an indulgent ceremony, you decide, but he'd want it to be suitably sombre. You might just read the words as tradition dictates – Garl would do the same for you, and precious little more.

You were so involved in thinking over your lines – making sure you remember the words – that you almost walked right out of town. As you're turning, a faint light up in the hills catches your eyes. A fire, you realise, burning up on some lonesome ridge.

The hillfolk, maybe – and they might be trying to lure you out into a trap. Paranoia?

>Investigate the fire
>It's too much of a risk. Find a bed for the night
>Other

>>46094481
>Investigate the fire
we can run with our rapid movement wind spell if need be.

>>46094481
>Investigate the fire

>>46094481
>Investigate the fire

>>46094481
>>Investigate the fire
I'll take that bait.

So maybe it is a trap – that's no reason not to investigate what might also be a clue. You're armed, and you're pretty healthy. Maybe your peripheral vision isn't as good as it once was, but you're fairly confident you can fight your way out of any trap these barbarians throw your way. If not, you can run like the wind.

Confident, you fire up your little lantern, hook it into your belt and leave the town. In the dark, the mountain path is as treacherous as you expect it to be, but the muddy ground soon gives way to bare stone – almost, but not quite worn into the shape of steps by generations of travellers. With the fire making a beacon for you to follow, you work your way up the mountain and out onto that remote ridge. Slowing your pace, you linger for a moment as you get close. Silhouetted against the dancing flames, you spy a slender figure.

With one hand resting on the hilt of your sword, you approach the bonfire and glance across at the figure to see if it reacts. Male – the bare chest gives that away in an instant – and painted with a swirling mix of black lines. At least, you think those markings are painted on – they could be scars, raised with dirt and charcoal to form permanent discolouration. Waiting for him to speak or move, you stare off into the distance, carefully keeping your eyes away from the fire. Losing your night eyes could be very dangerous if it comes to combat.

You feel safe, though – safe and alone.

“Alk,” the figure says, his voice low and musical. A moment later, and you realise that he just told you his name. “The fire,” Alk says, “I made it for Garl.”

Did he now?

“He was good to us,” Alk nods, “He brought us many things. Words and letters. Most of the clan ignored them. I didn't – I wanted to learn. No hope, now.”

>Alk, can you tell me who killed Garl?
>I know about your king, Alk, and the ruins
>Talk to me, Alk. Tell me whatever you want
>Other

>>46094758
>Alk, can you tell me who killed Garl?

>>46094758
>Talk to me, Alk. Tell me whatever you want
>Other
Why'd your your clan refuse to learn?

>>46094758
>>Talk to me, Alk. Tell me whatever you want

>>46094758
>>Alk, can you tell me who killed Garl?
>>Talk to me, Alk. Tell me whatever you want
Why does he want to learn?

Really, you ask quietly, why don't the rest of his clan want to learn?

“Words and letters are the tools of the meek ones,” Alk replies immediately, with the flat voice of one who has heard those words often enough that they have lost all meaning. A rote reply, one that suggests obedience over understanding. A sad thing to hear. “Anything the clan needs to remember,” Alk continues, “We carve. Carving is strong – and so we are strong.”

Carving, you think as you take a longer look at his bare torso and arms. There are definitely scars there, twisting ridges of long healed skin. Were they carved into him, then?

“Yes,” Alk answers honestly, “Lessons. We hunt, and we carve. We trap, and we carve. We scavenge, and we-”

Okay, you reply hastily as you hold up your hands to stop him, you understand what he's trying to tell you. Every time he mentioned one of his “lessons”, he pointed out another scar. A sign that he learned it successfully, or an incentive not to forget? Putting that aside for now, you ask the next question that presents itself to you – why does HE want to learn, if the rest of his clan doesn't? Alk is silent for a long time as he considers the question. Perhaps he isn't used to thinking this way, about his own thoughts and feelings.

“Garl said the world is big and wide,” Alk struggles to explain, “I will never see it. We don't leave here, the land God gave us, but I might see its words and letters. I might learn it instead. But the king-” Stopping himself here, Alk winces.

He can talk to you, you tell the boy, he can tell you whatever he wants.

“The king doesn't want us to think about the world,” Alk admits, “This is our world, he says. We need to protect our land and our ways, or we will be like the meek ones – unworthy, crushed by God's wrath.”

[1/2]

>>46095072

Alk, you ask slowly, can he tell you who killed Garl?

“No,” Alk whispers, shaking his head, “Not names. Not faces. I didn't see them leave, and I didn't see them return. WE did it – the whole clan shoulders this blame.”

But they were the ones to kill him, you confirm. Mutely, Alk nods. Why, you press, why did they kill Garl? Was it because he was trying to learn about the ruins and their king? Or was it because he was trying to educate them?

“He said there was power in words and letters. The king said no – there is power in wood and stone, not the lies he offered. The king said that we would all know soon enough what was stronger,” Alk grimaces, holding up one hand. The little finger, you realise, is shattered – broken and tied to the finger next to it. “He broke our fingers with stone, and said that wood would be avenged as well. Then... I heard talk. Garl was dead, the warriors were saying, and wood was avenged.”

That's it. Just about all the information you need to implicate this “king” of theirs.

>Thank you, Alk, for this knowledge
>Will you be safe among your clan, Alk?
>Tell me about your clan
>I wanted to ask you a question, Alk... (Write in)
>Other

>>46095161
>Thank you, Alk, for this knowledge
>Will you be safe among your clan, Alk?
>Tell me about your clan

>>46095161
>>Tell me about your clan
>>I wanted to ask you a question, Alk... (Write in)
Are there other clans out there?

>>46095161
>Thank you, Alk, for this knowledge
>>Will you be safe among your clan, Alk?
>>Tell me about your clan
Sounds like we need to have a chat with this King.

>>46095161
>Thank you, Alk, for this knowledge
>Tell me about your clan
>Will you be safe among your clan, Alk?
If he really doesnt want to go back or wont be safe, offer him a place at the nameless temple
>I wanted to ask you a question, Alk... (Write in)
I understand if you cant tell me, but where is your king?

>>46095161
>>46095290
Adding to this. Do they ever perform human sacrifice?

You'd like to know a little more about his clan, you ask as you sit by the fire, is there anything he can tell you?

“We can speak,” Alk nods as he joins you in sitting, the crackle of the bonfire lending an almost friendly air to the scene, “Ask.”

To start with, you begin, are there any other clans in the mountains?

“No,” Alk shakes his head, his voice firm and definite, “No others. We are all the clan, joined by our old home. We share the tunnels and the hollows beneath, just as we share the lands above. We share the same king, for as long as his life lasts, and we all bow to the brass god. When the time comes, we offer sacrifice.”

A lot of information, you muse, in a short burst. So the hillfolk aren't divided up into nomadic tribes as they claimed, but they belong to a greater civilisation – one with a single ruler and even a permanent settlement. One down in the ruins, perhaps? What's more, that brass god he mentioned...

“God gave it to us,” Alk tells you immediately, “Because we must remember that he is always watching. He watches us for signs of weakness, so we must always be strong. The meek must pay for their weakness. That is the king's way.”

Wait, you ask, his king orders them to perform human sacrifice?

“Blood offerings,” Alk holds up his wounded hand to show a particularly ragged scar running down his palm, “Small offerings, but often. Sometimes larger – the throat, then, and the face. We have to hold them down when that happens. I hate it, the sounds they make and the rumbles above.”

That's it, you realise, that could have been what enraged Titanos in the first place. The Wanderer who was killed was only making the problem worse, not causing it. The situation, you think to yourself, is a lot worse than it first seemed.

[1/2]

>>46095575

You're going to need to speak with this king, you tell Alk, can he tell you where to find him? You understand if he's unwilling to give you that information, but..

“Deep,” Alk replies immediately, “Deep beneath the mountain. He sits at the foot of the brass god, and keeps our greatest treasure close. When the time comes for us to spill blood, he is the one who holds the knife. That is his honour – he calls it honour. I think... it is nothing like honour.”

He's revealed a lot to you, you ask Alk, is he going to be safe going back to his clan? If they learn of this...

“I will die,” Alk says simply, “My clan must be avenged. I accept this – can you say why?”

He's asking you? Shrugging, you shake your head. No, you tell him, you couldn't say why he's so willing to accept it. Can he tell you?

“I am meek,” Alk admits, “One day, the clan will see that. Then, the face and the throat, and I will be made an offering. Now or later – no different, you see?”

It could be different, you offer, he could have a place in your temple. He'd get the chance to learn the words and letters, and your friends would be eager to learn about his clan and their ways. It would be beneficial for everyone, you tell him.

“Can I?” Alk's eyes widen, “You would take me from this mountain?”

He's eager. Maybe too eager – false hope can be a dangerous thing

>Of course. Return to town with me, and you can come with us when we leave
>Of course. Meet with us later, and we can take you from here
>I can't promise that, Alk, not yet
>On second thoughts, I can't risk it
>Other

This King is going to need to be dethroned.

>>46095729
>Of course. Meet with us later, and we can take you from here

I fail to see why Mentor or Howa would reject another person who WANTS to learn. Even if he can't be an apprentice he could still help around the library.

>>46095729
>Of course. Meet with us later, and we can take you from here
"And Alk. Being 'meek' as you put it isn't a bad thing. Expanding your knowledge and your mind can be far more powerful than the strength of one's arm. Your King is going to learn that firsthand."

>>46095729
>Of course. Return to town with me, and you can come with us when we leave
have tawn guard him as a favour, the hillfolks honesty would most likely get him killed if we didn't take him now

I can't really decide which is the safer choice here. If we sent him back he might be in danger. On the other hand if we take him back to town it would alert the clan. We'd be able to keep an eye on him at town though.

>>46095729
>Of course. Return to town with me, and you can come with us when we leave
Also, have him stay someplace where hes out of the way. Keep this quiet, and maybe he'll get to leave without complications. Maybe Tawn can hep with that. After all, he did offer quite a bit of important info freely.

>>46095729
>I can't promise that, but return to town with me now and I'll do my best to keep you safe.

>>46095955
>Other
Actually, ask him what terms hes on with the can currently. If he's in no danger of being sacrificed while were doing our job then he can meet us. But if he's close than we might as well take him in.

>Taking Alk back down into town seems to be the majority opinion. Writing the next post now.

What, you ask, does the clan think of Alk at the moment? Is he in any immediate danger, or is he worried for the future?

“They know I wished to learn Garl's words and letters,” Alk says slowly, “They saw me saddened by his death. I cannot say how safe I am, but my deeds have been noticed. The king may already be planning my death – or it may not come for many years. He is a patient man, as patient as the mountains themselves. His blade can hang over you for many years, only to fall when you think yourself safe.”

Then he isn't safe there, you decide. You'll take him into town and keep him well-guarded. You'd like to send him onto the Nameless Temple when all this is over and done with, but that might not happen if you let him back into his clan. It might be a risk bringing him down with you, but that's a risk you're willing to take. It's about time, after all, that the soldiers here actually got their chance to guard something that needs protecting – and, as an important source of both evidence and information, Alk definitely needs someone watching out for him.

The open relief in Alk's eyes when you tell him to come down into town with you is hard to ignore. How long, you wonder as you walk, has he longed for escape? Garl must have been really willing to offer the hand of friendship in order to make an impression on the boy – a far cry from the grumpy old man you knew. Age changes people, you suppose, and so does settling down. With that thought in mind, you focus on the path ahead. Behind you, a few loose rocks tumble down from the cliffs above.

“God has witnessed this cowardice,” Alk murmurs, “He is displeased.”

There's nothing wrong with being meek, you assure Alk, if being meek means thinking. A good mind can be more dangerous than any sword – something his king will learn soon enough.

[1/2]

>>46096302
>“God has witnessed this cowardice,”
We've actually met the guy. He's not a bad dude.

>>46096302

Tawn looks less than impressed when you wake him up, hammering on his door at the inn – he claimed the very last room available – until he answered. He was even less happy when he glared down at Alk's skinny, filthy body, returning his eyes to you in an accusing look. It was only when you explained what the boy told you that Tawn cheered up and relaxed a little.

“Good job, Ira,” he says, looking up from the notes he had been taking, “This is a stroke of luck, for certain. I'll be happy to keep an eye on the boy. If it comes to attacking the ruins, though, I want to leave him here with a pair of the soldiers. I have a duty to lead from the front, but I'd rather not put him in harm's way. That said, we have a problem.”

Of course, you sigh, what now?

“The two soldiers guarding the entrance haven't returned from their shift,” Tawn frowns hard as he delivers the news, “Best case scenario at the moment is that they deserted, or just got lost in the mountains on their way back. Worst case, they've been kidnapped or killed. Either way, we're two men down – seriously understrength if we need to attack. I could ride to the closest outpost town and muster reinforcements, but I wouldn't be back until morning and there's always the risk of ambush. I'll willing to take that chance, though.”

>We'll need all the men we can get
>I don't want to turn this into a war. We don't need extra soldiers
>I don't want you risking yourself. Watch the boy – I'll go
>Other

>>46096469
>I don't want to turn this into a war. We don't need extra soldiers

>>46096469
>I don't want to turn this into a war. We don't need extra soldiers

Call it optimism but I think if we can get to the King and challenge him to a fight, vengeance for Garl, and beat him we can end this with only a little bloodshed.

If he refuses, we call him 'meek' provoking him or turning his subjects against him if he still refuses.

During the fight we can bring down the full strength of Titanos with our two spell cards, fighting this King with his one god's power.

Having your ruler beaten by a 'meek' outsider that uses Titanos's power would disillusion the fuck out of the rest of the clan.

What do you guys think?

>>46096643
Definitely. I was struggling to think of a way to solve this without genociding the whole clan but that sound like it would work perfectly.
>>46096469
>>I don't want to turn this into a war. We don't need extra soldiers

>>46096643
Im backing this. It's a pretty good plan, all things considered. We came to get justice for Garl. And according to Alk he died by the King's orders. We do this, get justice. And there's no war.

You don't want this to turn into a war, you tell Tawn, and that's what bringing in extra soldiers would do. It would only escalate the situation, forcing the clan into a corner and encouraging them to fight.

“Ira,” Tawn tells you with forced calm, “I don't think they need any extra motivation to fight. They've killed at least one of our own already, and possibly two more. I know that revenge won't bring Garl back, but I'll be damned if I'm going to let them get away with it!”

No, you argue, the clan is seeking to prove its strength. Moving more troops into the area is just offering them a challenge. If you can get in there and confront the king personally, you can challenge him to solitary combat. Confronted by one of the “meek”, he would have no choice but to take you up on your challenge. Considering the power that Titanos himself has given you, you could destroy their leader. It might just end this without war – or genocide.

Tawn gives you a hard look for a long time before sighing, sitting back in his chair. “It's a hell of a risk,” he tells you simply, “But I see your point. Despite what you might think, I have little desire to wipe out these people – IF it can be avoided. Until now, I didn't see a way of resolving this without open combat, but you might be onto something here. You, boy, what do you think?”

“The king would be compelled to answer a challenge,” Alk replies immediately, unperturbed by Tawn's brusque manner, “And if defeated... the clan would be cast into disarray. They would obey an order from the strongest.”

“Then it's settled,” Tawn nods, “We'll go with your plan. If you don't return, though – I'll have no choice but to send in the army. So... come back, won't you?”

It almost sounds like he cares about you.

>I promise. See you two at the funeral tomorrow
>There's one last thing to discuss... (Write in)
>Other

>>46096932
>I promise. See you two at the funeral tomorrow

>>46096932
>I promise. See you two at the funeral tomorrow
I fought Titanos himself to a standstill, I can take a man, even if I am missing an eye.

>>46096932
>I promise. See you two at the funeral tomorrow

You fought Titanos himself, you tell Tawn, you can handle a man – even if you are missing an eye. Recognising a good line to finish on when you hear one, you stand and bow to the pair. But you promise to return nonetheless, you add, and you'll see them both at the funeral tomorrow. Later today. Whatever.

Leaving the pair to whatever uneasy peace they settle on – you notice a slight distaste in Tawn that the man can't quite keep from showing – you stride out to find a house to bed down in. Fortunately, there is one with light still burning in the window. An old man, up late drinking in Garl's memory. He's only too happy to share his wine with you and chat your ear off about the olden days, but he passes out not long after you open the third bottle. A glass later, and you drift off into a slumber of your own.

You dream of a brass statue, tall enough to crush you beneath a single finger. That, and something else that you can't quite remember. A light in the darkness, perhaps, that you found strangely compelling. Morning comes, however, before you can study that alluring light any more.

Feeling only a little worse for wear, you make your way to the temple, where things are already being prepared. Incense is being burned – to cover up the smell of decay coming off the covered body – and a pyre has been assembled. Pacing back and forth, reciting the words under your breath, you wait for the townspeople to gather. It take some time, but soon they are all here – Tawn and Alk included. You smile a little at the sight of the boy, clad in borrowed clothes several sizes too big for him.

Clearing your throat, you wave the crowd to silence and prepare to begin.

Then you stop dead.

[1/2]

>>46097349

At the back of the crowd, lingering a few feet behind the rest of the townspeople, a pair of tall and scarred strangers loom. Unmistakably a pair of warriors from Alk's clan, they watch you in perfect unwavering silence. That's not what causes you to freeze, however. What really disturbs you is the metal armour haphazardly strapped to their bodies, and the rifles they hold in inelegant hands. The armour and rifles from two Imperial soldiers.

So that's where Tawn's men went. Their equipment, at least.

Clearing your throat once more, you ignore the pair of barbarians – they seem strangely courteous, content to wait for this sombre moment to pass – and begin to recite the words. You entrust this body to the fire, you begin, that it might find purity in death. That it might escape the weight of this world and rise into the sky. You entrust it to smoke and ash, that the soul and the body can be parted once more. Then, fixing your gaze upon the intruders, you finish reciting the words – be at peace.

“Be at peace,” the crown replies, bowing their heads for a brief moment as you put Garl's body to the torch. When the fire starts to consume the body, the townspeople part and begin to file away, hesitating as they see the visitors. With your duties put aside, you quickly march over to them.

What, you spit, do they want?

“Return our clansman,” the first rumbles, “And come, present yourself before the king. You will do this, or else we kill your meek brothers.”

The soldiers. Hostages, now.

>We'll come with you, if it prevents more blood from being shed
>Alk stays here, but I'll happily meet with your king
>No deal – do your worst
>Other

>>46097541
>>Alk stays here, but I'll happily meet with your king

>>46097541
>>Alk stays here, but I'll happily meet with your king
I'd be more for Ira being on a really short fuse with all that shit happening and just cutting the throat of one of the guys to show the other he means business, but this wouldn't help things.

>>46097541
>>Alk stays here, but I'll happily meet with your king

>>46097541
>Alk stays here, but I'll happily meet with your king
I actually wanted to meet your king. But the boy stays. If you want to test me your welcome to, though I'd advise against it. I am not meek, by any stretch.

Alk stays here, you tell the pair coldly, but you'll meet with their king.

“Two,” one of the warriors tells you, “We have two. You send two.”

“Then I'll come with him,” Tawn says, pushing through the crowd to stand by your side. Glancing off to where Alk had been standing, you see a pair of soldiers forming up around the boy. They look nervous, but they obeyed Tawn's subtle gestures without question. Nodding to Tawn, thanking him for his support, you return your gaze to the warriors.

You'll happily meet with their king, you tell them again, but it will be on your terms. They can test you, if they doubt your strength, but you have to advise against it – you're not meek by any means. The pair look confused by this, as if they'd been expecting you to wail and protest, but eventually one of them nods.

“We were sent for two,” he grumbles, “Follow.”

Glancing once more towards Alk – and flashing the boy a reassuring smile – you follow the tall warrior that turns to march off. The second one, squat and stupid looking, waits to march behind you with the stolen rifle aimed your way. Maybe, just maybe, he might learn where the trigger is by the time you've reached the ruins. Leaving Foothills with Tawn, you don't speak. There would be little point – these two are just muscle, soldiers sent to recover a debt. Anything they have to say, they've already said it.

“This isn't the way to the ruins,” Tawn murmurs once you're up in the hills, splitting away from the path and crossing over rough land, “They must have other tunnels.”

As you thought, you whisper back. Time to see where this leads.

[1/2]

>Ira enters the room with their king sitting all regal like.
>As he is about to open his mouth, Ira just uses all his cards to destroy him here and there.
>words are for meeks and all that, right?

>>46098005
Funny mental image
But Ira just ain't like that

File: King of the Hillfolk.jpg (159 KB, 736x1100)

159 KB JPG

>>46097913

It's hard to tell, actually, since they don't let you light your lantern. You can just about make out vague, indistinct carvings and worn – but definitely worked – stones. The floor is tiled, but the arched ceiling is shrouded by a thick layer of dust and cobwebs. If only you had a chance to study this place!

As you move into wider corridors and more open spaces, you begin to realise how fortunate it was that the research expedition wasn't sent out so early. It could have provoked a war, and there are far more of the hillfolk down here than you had expected. They watch you, their eyes bright and strangely curious, from alcoves and corridors as you are marched through streets – and that's the right word to use. These are city streets, not corridors of one single building, and they all take you gradually lower. Deeper.

Passing through a crumbling stone archway, you enter a clearing. What was this, once? A town square, an open air temple? As you look up, your eyes growing blank for a moment as you spot the looming idol, you realise that “temple” was the right choice. A crude imitation of Titanos' own image, the statue is a dull brass. Strung up by ropes, reaching into some unseen roof, the thing is like a god. It IS a god – the brass god that Alk spoke of. Sitting on a crude throne beneath it – and a few paces behind a blooded altar – you see the king of the hillfolk.

There should be a light, some vague voice in the back of your mind whispers, a pure light. Not the flickering torches that cast wild shadows about the chamber.

“Outsider,” the king growls from behind his wooden mask, “You have taken our own, lured him with your soft, outsider ways. He was meant to die, his blood given to God. We have taken your own in turn. Would you see them die?”

>Let's talk. We can work out a deal
>Words are for the meek. I challenge you to single combat
>I would ask you a question (Write in)
>Other

>>46098197
>>Words are for the meek. I challenge you to single combat

>>46098197
>Words are for the meek. I challenge you to single combat
For Garl.

>>46098197
>Words are for the meek. I challenge you to single combat

Be sure to activate our cards before we challenge him. Let's not get caught with our pants down.

>>46098458
I don't know if there is a hard rule about activating cards before hand.

Titanos's cards end at the end of 'current combat' which I'm not sure means that we need to be in combat first.

Rolled 97 (1d100)

Words, you shout at the king, are for the meek. In Garl Yamada's name, you challenge him to single combat!

“This one!” the king shouts back, roaring with sudden delight, “This one understands! Yes, outsider, I accept your challenge. Let this be a fight to the death, as it has always been – let the strong stand tall, and let the weak be crushed beneath his heel!”

A howling cheer fills the air as the assembled hillfolk – and more are gathering with each passing moment – hail the oncoming combat. As he rises from his throne the king seizes a long spear, the single inhumanly long length of bone tipped with a broken metal sword. A savage weapon, the kind that could disembowel a man in a single swipe. The warriors guarding you shy back, melting back into the crowd until you are standing alone, faced by the king. Then the light – a rich amber, like liquid gold streaked with the blackest ink – falls upon you.

Something about it, about that pattern of wild scrawls shot through it, draws your eye. It falls from high above you, a single light shining through... a lens of some kind? Forcing it out your mind as best as you can, you draw your sword and prepare to meet the king's challenge. He waits until the weapon is in your hand before attacking.

Not a complete scumbag, then.

>Please roll 1D100 for our attack, aiming to beat 60 or 80. I'll take the highest of the first three
>I'll be rolling 1D100 for the king's attack, aiming to beat 60 or 80 as well.

>>46098458
>>46098514

>The first card we activate will take effect immediately. Next turn, we can activate another.

Rolled 92 (1d100)

>>46098551
skin of porcelain

Rolled 31 (1d100)

>>46098551
>97 weeeeeeelllllll
Knew we shoulda jumped him as soon as we saw him.

Rolled 60 (1d100)

>>46098551
Skin of Porcelain.

>>46098551
Oh fuck. Use that spell that Garl had!

>>46098565
This + Sublime Strike will give us the edge.

>Going with Skin of Porcelain for our first spell. Half damage, and reflect the other half back on the king.

>>46098633
Can only do one card per round.

Besides we already beat the high tier DC.

Damn if he didn't hit so hard I would have said we should do 'As the Mountains' cause it lasts the whole fight and thematically appropriate for this fight, but Skin is the smart choice.

Rolled 64 (1d100)

There's something terribly familiar about the way the king attacks. He throws himself across the lit floor with the spear blazing out ahead of him, seeking to end the fight in a single murderous attack. That's the kind of efficiency that you were taught to fight him with, aiming to pierce your opponent's heart in the first few seconds of battle.

What kind of training, you wonder as you feel the Doll's blessing take hold, does this bastard have? At the last minute, his blow dips low – aiming to pierce your guts, not your heart – and slams below your guard. Gasping in pain, you reel back and buckle under the strength of the blow, yet you're not out of the game yet. With an explosion of shattered porcelain, you blast the king backwards before his blade can split you open completely. Crying out in rage, the king stumbles backwards and tries to swipe the needle-sharp shards out of his skin

>Ira takes 15 damage, once Skin of Porcelain has been taken into account
>Current Health: 75/90

Howling with your own kind of primal rage, you recover and launch your own attack. Plunging in with your sword, you strike him high – only just missing his throat and cutting a great bleeding wound across his shoulder. Not a fatal wound, but...

>Please roll 1D100, aiming for 60 and 80. Best of three once more
>I'll roll 1D100 for the king's attack, aiming for 60 and 80 as well
>Again, choose one spell card to use this turn

Rolled 57 (1d100)

>>46098841
As the Mountains.
>Until the end of the current combat, all damage is reduced by 5, and all attacks gain a +5 modifier.

Rolled 11 (1d100)

>>46098841
[Titanos] Wrath of the Gods
Just fuck his shit's up

Rolled 29 (1d100)

>>46098841
As the Mountains

Something, something. Using his God's power against him.

Rolled 78 (1d100)

>>46098841
Either one of Titanos', or Mandragora

>>46098860
Barely made the 60 DC with that buff.

>>46098841
As the Mountains

Rolled 63 (1d100)

>>46098841
As the Mountains

Rolled 85 (1d100)

As the king reels from his wound, you hear yourself shouting Garl Yamada's name. You want everyone in this damn chamber to know that name, to hear it and tremble in their boots.

Most of them are barefoot, but still.

>As the Mountains activated

Shouting the name, you feel your skin harden – not to the porcelain of the Doll's magic, but to a stone as hard and unyielding as Garl himself – and a new strength fills your limbs. As you dart in closer with your sword ready, the king swipes up with his sword. Not a piercing blow, but a wild slash – no, not wild either. Carefully aimed to cut your throat. Jerking your head back at the last minute, his weapon clashes against your toughened skin, drawing a bead of bright and vital blood.

>Ira takes 10 damage, reduced from 15
>Current Health: 65/90

Having forced you back a step with his quick blow, the king is able to step backwards out of your initial attack. Twisting and recapturing the momentum, you slash out and catch his hip. Hissing with pain, the king almost drops to one knee. As his people shout and chant, though, he recovers some desperate strength and faces you once more.

You're starting to get his measure. He's got a wicked attack, the king, but his stamina is failing. He needs to end this quickly.

>Please roll 1D100, aiming for 60 and 80. Best of three once more
>I'll roll 1D100 for the king's attack, aiming for 60 and 80 as well
>Again, choose one spell card to use this turn

Rolled 12 (1d100)

>>46099151
Gift of the Soil
>Immediately regain 20 Health points, and your next attack will receive a +10 modifier.

Fucker hits hard. We need to outlast him,

Rolled 19 (1d100)

>>46099151

Rolled 99 (1d100)

>>46099151
Gift of the soil

File: Sweatin.png (142 KB, 415x367)

142 KB PNG

>>46099216
Too close.

The +15 Hit is a cherry on top I suppose.

File: 1452152090773.png (118 KB, 326x232)

118 KB PNG

>>46099216
Thank fucking Titanos

>>46099151
>>46099216
With the +10 of gift of the soil and +5 from as the mountain, did we hit the theoretical over 100 super crit dc?

>>46099243
>>46099259
you're welcome guys

>>46099216
Fuck, Ira calm down.

File: Mandragora.png (302 KB, 640x853)

302 KB PNG

He needs to end this quickly, and he knows it. You don't need to see his face to know the desperation he must be feeling. It's obvious in the one last desperate attack he launches, bracing his spear in both hands and lunging at you. Charging at you, as if you were both wild beasts, he plunges the blade into you, aiming for the delicate skin at the nape of your neck.

You meet his charge, ducking aside at the last minute, you feel another name upon your lips. Mandragora, spirit of the green and fertile lands. With the scent of fresh grass and grain filling your mind, you grow calm and strong. Even as the broken sword plunges into you, your own sword pierces the king's chest, pierces his heart. Forcing the weapon forwards, the point bursts from his back and drives him back, the head of the spear leaving your body less than a second after it entered.

>Ira takes 25 damage, regains 20.
>Current Health: 60/90

Dead in an instant, the king hits the ground hard, his blood spilling out across that bewitching pattern. In that instant, you look around at the warriors staring at you in uncertainty. If they chose this moment to fall upon you, there would be no hope of survival. Drawing in a deep breath, you prepare to bellow out to the waiting crowd.

>Let the strong stand tall!
>This fight is over. Go back to your homes
>Titanos has chosen his victor!
>Other

>>46099445
>Titanos has chosen his victor!

>>46099445
>Titanos has chosen his victor!

>>46099445
>Titanos has chosen his victor!
"I have talked your God personally and he has given me his power! He wishes for these blood sacrifices to stop immediately! They anger him."

Titanos has chosen his victor, you howl, who would dispute his will?

Unsurprisingly, nobody does. Barely noticing that your coat is darkened with blood, that your whole body is splatted with the stuff in fact, you step up onto the throne and look out at the confused, uncertain hillfolk. This power that you fight with, you declare, was given to you God himself. By his command, you were sent here to correct their ways. These blood offerings offend him, you order, and they must be stopped. He has shown mercy, but he will not do so again.

Then the strain of the fight seeps over you, and you fight against the urge to collapse. In what seems like a fitting motion, you slump down and sit upon the throne. That seems to end the matter, for the gathering of hillfolk soon disperses, the hunched crowd slouching, dispirited, away. You couldn't say for sure how well they've taken your warning – you might never know, not without keeping a close eye on the clan – but they're not trying to kill you. In the silence that follows, Tawn approaches you.

“First a nobleman, and now a king?” he remarks, nodding at the throne in amusement, “You had me worried there, Ira. Do you need a moment?”

A moment, you repeat, maybe. Just a moment to rest. If Tawn wants to help, he can...

>Go looking for the missing soldiers. They have to be here somewhere
>Try and figure out what that damn light is. You need to know
>Just help you up. You're getting out of here
>Other

>>46099734
>Go looking for the missing soldiers. They have to be here somewhere
then
>Try and figure out what that damn light is. You need to know

>>46099734
>Go looking for the missing soldiers. They have to be here somewhere
>Try and figure out what that damn light is. You need to know
Then we bounce

>>46099734
>>Go looking for the missing soldiers. They have to be here somewhere
>Try and figure out what that damn light is. You need to know

In order of priority.

>>46099734
>>Go looking for the missing soldiers. They have to be here somewhere
>>Try and figure out what that damn light is. You need to know
We need to investigate their carvings. Educate them on what they themselves made, before opening the prospect of writing and words. That they were the original meek was a message they themselves carved, no?

>>46099916
If its possible I would want to get rid of this whole 'meek' - 'strong' dichotomy.

>>46099916
I don't know about all that.
At least not right now.For now, lets just take care of our business.

He can find those soldiers of his, you tell Tawn in a raspy whisper, and then he can investigate what that damn light is. It has to be coming from somewhere.

“That shouldn't be too difficult,” Tawn comments, with a remarkable amount of sincerity, “These are just ancient ruins, and that might just be a divine light. Don't worry though, I'll get to the bottom of this.” Shaking his head in vague amusement, Tawn looks around the suddenly empty chamber for a moment. “Sit, Ira, and rest. You look half dead. With the condition you're in, you shouldn't be running about and causing trouble.”

Grunting, you settle for waving the younger man away from you. You'll be fine in a moment, like you said. For now, you need to think some things over. Like the king, perhaps. As Tawn retreats off into the ruins, you let your gaze settle upon the fallen king. He fought too well to be a mere barbarian, and with a kind of training that the common man wouldn't possess. Not quite the same fighting style that a Wanderer might be taught, but it was damn close. Twisted and cruel, but the fundamentals were there.

It's only when the light from above is cut off that you realise you were almost dozing off, lulled into sleep by the ideas coursing through your mind. Tawn must have found the mechanism casting off that beautiful light, found it and shut it off. The man himself returns a few moments later, trailed by two limping soldiers. Although alive, they both look like they've been badly beaten.

“This,” Tawn tells you as he passes across a heavy disc, “Is what you were looking for. This, and a flaming torch at least. A curious thing, and not something I can claim to know anything about. It's not glass. Heavy crystal, maybe?”

[1/2]

>>46100086

Maybe, you muse as you take the object. A dull, golden crystal, the disc is streaked with wavy black lines. Of course, you murmur as you examine it, you've seen those lines before. The same kind of curved lines that made up Alk's scars. A ritual item, then, but you couldn't say exactly what purpose it serves. Something for future research, perhaps.

There is one thing you know for sure. You want to keep it close. Some instinct whispers to you of the value this item possesses, and the importance of owning it. You're holding it tightly when one of the wounded soldiers speaks up.

“Sir, we should go,” he murmurs, “I don't trust these savages not to regroup and fall on us. We've broken their back for now, but they might be back. None of us are in any shape for real fighting, even if we had our weapons.”

“Agreed,” Tawn nods, holding out his hand to help you up. Biting back a groan, you rise and take a few tentative steps forwards. You feel old. Old and almost broken. “Are you alright to walk?”

You can walk, you insist. You'll walk out of here by yourself, if you need to.

And that's just what you end up doing.

>I'll have to end things here for tonight. Next thread on Sunday, and I'll stick around for a while in case of any questions!

>>46100254
so how badly did we get hurt? How shocked were the hillfolk? Garl avenged? Can Titanos breath easy? Alk ok?

>>46100254
Thanks for the run Moloch!
Pretty intense fight, going blow for blow like that is a bit nerve wracking. I don't really want to think about what kind of spanking we would've gotten if we hadn't gotten that clutch roll.

>>46100254
>Some instinct whispers to you of the value this item possesses, and the importance of owning it.
Uhhhh....worried.

Thanks for running.

Ira's fatigue over these past few weeks is starting to catch up to him huh?

That fight kinda reminded me of the duel with Cernnous back in London.

>>46100316

Well, we didn't take a serious injury, but we are pretty hurt and exhausted. It came as a pretty serious blow to the hillfolk morale, so I can't see them being much of a threat for a while. I think Garl is probably happy, scowling down at us from heaven! Titanos, strangely, wasn't entirely aware of what the hillfolk were doing - possibly due to the fact that they were worshiping a stranger aspect of him. Alk will be fine, he was under careful guard back at town.

>>46100357

Nothing to worry about, just an incredibly compelling treasure!
But yes, Ira is starting to show his age a little. He could use a holiday after this!

>>46100331

It wouldn't have been very pretty, at least!

>>46100419
Is there going to be any short timeskips in this quest? A lot of these cases are back to back. Shits busy in Tenngaru.

>>46099954
>>46099969
I was planning on breaking them down with truth to build them back up with....something else.

>>46100419
Now I want to know what would happen if we brought a big stonking shield and just tanked the hits with Titanos stronk until the King gave up.

>>46100561
Honestly the King could be a dangerous liability to take alive.

>>46100640
The image of seeing that is more important than whether the King survives it. We could kill him afterwards or he could suicide out of shame, the point would be to clearly emphasize Titanos' favor AND clearly outclass him with mean old man look.

>>46100545

I've never been massively sure how to handle timeskips, but I do feel like there should be some time off. I've never been a huge fan of things like "A week passed with no news". I might still include a few in the future though.

>>46100561

It probably would have ended badly for the king. Collapsing out of exhaustion in front of an army of "survival of the strong" barbarians isn't going to be much fun.
Little fact - shields and heavy armour aren't used much in Tenngaru. The general fighting styles favour dodging over blocking.

>>46100695
>The general fighting styles favour dodging over blocking.

Or in this case beating the shit out of each other until one falls.

>>46100742

Well, things don't always go to plan!

>>46100797
So what has the ruins being revealed last time we were here done for the people here?

Were the hill folk more agitated which led to Garl's death?

>>46100858

The site is still considered "closed", so it hasn't brought many pilgrims to the area. The town of Foothills is much the same as usual for now, save for the guards taking up space. On the other hand, just uncovering the ruins caused the hillfolk to immediately go on the defensive.

When Garl started seriously investigating - as opposed to just occasionally bartering with the most outgoing hillfolk - the king saw it as a threat. He took action before Garl could learn too much. Unfortunately, he didn't expect things to escalate from there.

>>46100939
So were you expecting the direct confrontation approach?

I know we usually try diplomacy first, but everything about this situation and tribe told me that we needed to beat someone down to resolve this. Also Ira is probably more than a little angry at Garl's death.

>>46101001

I'd say I was expecting the direct approach this time. Diplomacy is nice, but it can't solve everything. When you deal with a culture that has little respect for words or negotiation, you've got to approach them with something they DO respect. In this case, that means violence.

>>46101076
So the hillfolk are pacified right now, but will they eventually get a new ruler and start again.

Or did having a 'meek' outsider, one that doesn't use carvings, beat their ruler make them start to question their culture?

>>46101168

Things are up in the air right now. The hillfolk are likely to scatter, but they will eventually recover. However, seeing their leader defeated by an outsider - and having the outsider claim divine mandate - has shaken them. Some will probably come to see the value in outside ways, or at least grow more tolerant. How their society eventually reforms depends on who ends up in the majority.

In terms of influencing this ourselves, the most we can do is urge the temple to reach out and help the scattered hillfolk. Alternatively, we could advise the military to hunt down the more militant groups.

>>46101325
It's sad though, the apprentices are angry because they feel the temple isn't doing shit, and there goes Ira kickin' shit in the teeth and claiming a throne by dueling the shit out of a king, and no one will ever know...

>>46101481

Well, there's no reason why we can't spread the word a little. Personally, I don't see Ira as the type to brag about his achievements, but sometimes spreading a little good news is important. Whether or not it would settle the apprentices down or not is another matter though.

Speaking of news, hows Aya doing? Her newspaper getting more business with the influx of Ira stories?

>>46101865

It got a big boost due to her recent story on Pit Progress, although she kept Ira's name - officially - out of it. She's getting a lot of ground out of her "anonymous source" though. If things keep looking up, she might have to move to a bigger office!

The girl herself is very busy, but that's the way she likes it. The truth never sleeps!