I need my fucking drugs back, I can't think

Drugs first, everything else second.

>>1573
>>I need my fucking drugs back, I can't think

>>1573
>I need my fucking drugs back, I can't think

>>1573
Grabbin peelz

hey

wait a minute

where am I? what site is this? I don't understand

my SOBRIETY is too low for this shit

>I need my fucking drugs back, I can't think

>>1587
>>1588
>>1603
>>1616
>>1618
As you thought about what you wanted to do with your newly acquired freedom of all obligation, your mind ran blank for ten seconds. Ten agonizing seconds, not a thought went through it, before you thought I can't think. It took another five seconds of completely empty-headedness to come to the conclusion that you are completely airheaded without Burning Coals, the drug you usually take to clear your head. The way you have to set it on fire and swallow it alone does something, not saying anything about what happens after. Without it, everything's foggy, indistinct.

There's plenty of places where you can get them. However, really only village druids have them. And that fat woman, you guess. They don't come free. You could buy them by trading ground rust dust for some exuberant price... or you could steal it. How you go about doing that you'll find out when you get there, you guess, but there isn't a druid nor drug in this ghost-town of a village. There's a couple roads nearby, though you can't remember for the life of you where they went. One goes to the east across a river into the independent territory. One goes south into the frontier of the Iron Stag's domain. The other goes north to the shore, you're not sure what the situation up there is. Or, you could just say, "fuck the roads," and meander in a random direction. Perhaps that would work better than the roads.

>Travel the road east
>Travel the road south
>Travel the road north
>Wander wherever you kinda want to go
>Write-in

>>1652
>Travel the road east

>>1652
See if there is any trace of the fat woman that might suggest which direction she went.

OP visits anonkun I see.
Unless...you aren't mojique are you?

>>1652
>>Travel the road south

>>1652
>Travel the road north

>>1670
https://anonkun.com/stories/iron-a-tiefs-questbr/fSu8BbLHw3nHQfnXn/home

The original, for anyone who's unfamiliar.

Rolled 3 (1d20)

>>1670
>>1689
I'm giving this board a one night whirl, to help test the waters for me and players. Won't be here all that long, ideally, because fuck I got shit to do tomorrow. I'd prefer it if you'd keep this stuff on the minimum.

>>1668
>>1669
>>1671
>>1675
You are split. Perfectly split, down the middle. This, this is why you need burning coals. Indecisive. Can't do anything on your own, can't you?

Fuck it.

You wander in a random direction.

>>1708
Wait! Loot the village first. If shot's expensive, you could use some resources.

Rolled 6 (1d6)

>>1708
You wander south-west, away from the roads and into the forest. These forests are fairly dead-looking. Most forests are, however this one you'd say is one of the more livelier ones you're used to. Evergreens break up the dual tone of black rock and trees and white snow and sky. You actually manage to see a living creature running about, something you wouldn't catch in a forest east of the river. There'd be things living in there, but they'd be too hard to spot until they're upon you.

It was noon when you set out, and as the light dimmed and the forest faded from its desaturated state to a twilight navy, you kept on walking. And walking. And walking.

That's all you can really focus on, the walking.

Can't think.

Then again, you don't really need to.

Oh god, you're becoming one of those bumbling idiots that just wander around until they get themselves killed. You have to think, think about something...

>>1751
Before you can settle on something to think about, you leap from a small ledge and stomp on top of a bear cub. It falters, your body's weight plus your hammer sending it reeling and tumbling downhill while you fall straight down and slam your head against the forest floor with a hard crack.

Pain fills your head.

Better than indistinct fog, you guess.

Something's looking at you... growling at you, actually.

When you regain your senses, you quickly discern what it is, though you could have guessed, if you gave it thought.

The bear's mother.

Roll 1d6 to get on your feet, best of 3. DC: 3

Rolled 5 (1d6)

>>1763

I want to get up!

Rolled 4 (1d6)

>>1763

Rolled 5 (1d6)

>>1763

>>1771
>>1776
>>1790
You swing to your feet, your great hammer lagging behind, but with a stern yank, you manage to pull it from the grasp of the bear. The gray fur set the massive beast from the cold dualtone of the forest, but the darkness of twilight hid it well. Jumping back away from the bear to avoid any pounce that the shooting your head back to make sure you don't trip and fall over, you manage to clear enough distance for you to act of your own volition, whatever that may be. You've killed a couple bears in your day, but usually you had the intention of running into them prepared for a fight. Though you are strong, and hardy, this bear is clearly moreso, and far more riled up to tear you apart for drop-kicking her child down the hill.

>Attack!
>Run downhill.
>Run uphill.
>Wait for the bear to make its move.

>>1816

>Attack!

>>1816

Run downhill, a bear would reach me too fast running uphill and attacking or waiting for it to make a move would both be very stupid

>>1824
>>1826
You've just smashed bears before, but again, you were looking for those bears. You have to get yourself ready to kill this damn thing. Gripping the shaft of the black-wood greathammer, you rear back your weapon in preparation of smiting this thing across the face. But before you can fully commit yourself to a swing, it begins to run at you. As you see it coming, the second option on your mind, getting the hell away, wins out. You turn around and start sprinting downhill, worming around trees in a hope to get it caught. As gravity pulls you down faster and faster, you realize that you are now running directly at the dazed and confused bear cub. You can't tell how close the mother is behind you, but for a split second, you're a bit worried she's going faster.

>Run right past the cub
>Stop, and dodge the now breakneck speed mother
>Charge at the cub and squish it

>>1890
>Run right past the cub

>>1890

Dodge the running downhill mother. As my rage consumes me, I look at that damn bear cub that got me in all this trouble. I'm going to smash him. I'm going to drink this bastard blood.

>>1890
Dodge the mother and run away!

>>1900
>>1907
Realizing the error in your ways, you immediately stop running at this mother's vulnerable child. Then, as you feel the thuds of the stonebear's paws stampeding across the forest floor, you begin to dodge.

Roll 1d6. Best of 3. DC: 4.

Rolled 6 (1d6)

>>1935

Rolled 5 (1d6)

>>1935

>>1941
>>1943
Alongside Burning Coals and Hot Ice, adrenaline is one of the drugs that make you able to focus. As the bear's footfalls stop, you throw yourself to the side, just in time to see the mother soar through the air as fast as a swooping bird and tackle its cub, sending them both bouncing and rolling further down the hill. As a heavy burden of imminent threat is lifted from your shoulders, you completely forget about the heavy burden of your greathammer in your hands as you threw yourself aside to dodge.

Unable to halt your massive hammer completely, it pulls you toward a hollow tree trunk. The hammer smashes against it, bounces off, and drives straight into the snow. You manage to tumble beside it, landing relatively harmlessly into the white cushion which coats the forest floor.

From the tree trunk, something falls out.

>Investigate debris
>Pursue the bears, and fight them while they're debilitated
>Escape the bears, you just wanted to think straight

>>2012
>>Investigate debris

>>2012
Investigate Debris, but keep an eye out for the bear. Don't want to end up in the same situation we were before.

>>2012
>Investigate debris

>>2012
>Investigate debris

File: qima-works-char.jpg (118 KB, 900x1056)

118 KB JPG

>>2027
>>2045
>>2033
You take a quick moment to overlook the mess you made. Among bits of bark and broken wood, you find...

What the fuck did you just find.

"Owww!" Groaned the little girl who had been sleeping in a hollow tree as she was quite rudely awakened, rubbing her head as she stood up, pouting at you.

Those are lanterns, attached to her horns.

You open your mouth, but you have no words.

"What are you doing out here?" Asked the little druid.

>"Do you know where I can get drugs?"
>"I was fighting a bear, and my hammer went a little wide."
>"What the fuck are YOU doing out here?"
>Writein

>>2074
>"I was fighting a bear, and my hammer went a little wide."
>"What the fuck are YOU doing out here?"
>Why do you have lanterns on your horns?

>>2074
>"Do you know where I can get drugs?"
just to clear my head, I swear!

>>2074
>"I was fighting a bear, and my hammer went a little wide."
>We may want to leave, as there is an angry bear nearby.

>>2082
>>2090
"Uh," you begin eloquently, "I was fighting a bear, and my hammer went a little wide."

"A bear!?" She repeats, simultaneously knowing exactly the ones you're talking about and ignoring how incorrect that statement you made was. "Did you kill them?"

"N-no, I sent them rolling downhill. We-"

"Come on!" The little tief says, grabbing your wrist. "Let's get away from them! The mom won't pursue you if it meant leaving her baby behind."

This little girl, not even a teenager you'd guess, led you up the hill and through paths you couldn't even register until you were in them. You honestly hadn't expected the bears to be so dazed as to not continue their pursuit, but the child led you away from them very easily. As night fell, the navy blue dipped into black, and the little girl turned on her lanterns. The lanterns by themselves yielded a dim glow that wasn't intense, yet when they were together, they stretched far. As she slowed down and began walking you through the woods, she sighed.

"Why are you walking around the woods this late?" She asked, like a concerned mother. "Hunting should be done in the morning!"

>"I couldn't decide which way on the roads I wanted to go, so I just cut through the woods."
>"My village was attacked and I was looking for a place to stay."
>"Do you have burning coals on you? I can't think straight."
>Writein

>>2153
>>"Do you have burning coals on you? I can't think straight."

>>2153
>>"I couldn't decide which way on the roads I wanted to go, so I just cut through the woods."
>"Do you have burning coals on you? I can't think straight."
>Why do you have lanterns on your horns?

>>2166
Seconding this

>>2153
>"My village was attacked and I was looking for a place to stay."
>"Do you have burning coals on you? I can't think straight."

Rolled 2 (1d2)

>>2160
>>2166
>>2182
You begin to look aside, bashfully, almost. "I-I can't think straight. Do you have burning coals? I can't focus without them, I'm sorry-" You are interrupted by a stern bop on the forehead with a stick. A magical staff, upon further examination.

"Drugs are BAD for you!" She says, pointing her finger at you. "Druids use them because it's hard to deal with things without them! They put up with a lot!" She crosses her arms. "If you wanted them so much, you should have just asked the town druid. Why were you out in the woods?"

"I couldn't decide which way on the roads I wanted to go, so-" You manage to block the stick this time.

"You shouldn't leave your village alone! Tiefs wander out here and starve to death all the time! You're-"

The little girl stopped talking suddenly, looking around. Sniffing.

Rolled 2 (1d2)

>>2232
Inspired by her curiosity, you start paying attention to the smell, and you immediately wish you hadn't. It smells horrible, disgusting to your core. While you're able to put up with it, the little girl plugs her nose and begins walking toward the scent.

On the way there, her horns illuminate a row of rocks; first, small stones, increasing in size, even if by minute amounts, the closer she got to the smell. The small stones grew into big rocks into giant boulders taller than you, all in perfect order from smallest to largest, save for the end. At the very end was the second largest. Just before that was the largest boulder of them all, and under that, the crushed legs of a tief.

The girl blinks once, twice, and then begins to walk away. "You could have ended up like that!" She consternates as she was before, very expertly blocking out the mental image of that scene.

You look at the most odd gravestone you'd ever seen, and then look back at the tiny druid before following. "Why do you wear those lanterns?"

"To find bumblers before they... get like that. They just leave, not seeing any point to anything. It's no good for anyone if they get themselves killed, and I have to bring them back!"

As she turns her head away from you and leads you through the forest, you ogle the back of her head disconcertingly.

Druids are weird.

>Follow her to wherever it is she's taking you. A village, you presume.
>Stop following her, you want to continue south for reasons unknown.
>Writein

>>2286
Follow her

>>2286
>>Follow her to wherever it is she's taking you. A village, you presume.
>where we going, druid?

>>2286
follow her!

>>2312
>>2322
>>2361
The girl leads you through the forest. Wanderlust crosses your mind but it's quickly forgotten. Not only is your mind foggy, but you're tired, too. In order to not feel like you could fall asleep standing, you decide asking something would help.

"Where are we going...?" You manage to ask.

"My village, Tiella! It's a beautiful place by the river, and clean, too! The forest is so pretty there, and..." blah, blah, blah, blah, blah BLAH. The next minute, you regret trying to break the silence. Just because she has a sharp mind, doesn't mean she's not her own brand of stupid. Just a different form.

You miss the silence.

After an hour of walking and talking, she brings you into the village. It's too dark to get a good view of it, only one other light being lit in town besides this little girl's horns. She brings you into the longhouse. You forgot it was cold outside all the way until the heat of inside the giant yurt healed the numbness. Tables and firepits divided the one giant room in two. There was plenty of food, plenty to drink, and plenty of places to sleep. The Longhouse is strangely underpopulated. There were a handfull of people there, save for the head druid and the warchief, both fast asleep at the far end of the Longhall.

"Sleep," this little girl orders you, as she runs off to the druid's corner.

>Eat and sleep
>Examine the druid's corner
>Snoop around town

>>2499
Eat and peek over at the druid's corner. If you haven't got any drugs by the time you finish your meal, start pestering the girl for drugs.

>>2530
You decide to help yourself to some food. Getting your ass kicked and your drugs stolen by a fat woman really makes you hungry. Maybe you should start calling it medicine. Anyway, the food is great. Nice, thick, juicy meats. Boar ham, cooked and glazed, probably by the druid, to a slick, mouthwatering perfection. As you eat the meal, stress begins to melt away as you admire the food. You always heard rumors about druids eating lots of food to handle stress, and for the most part you thought it was bullshit, until you had this great meal yourself. But your worries are little, so you don't eat all that much.

Between bouts between you and your plate, you look over at the far druid's corner. Cabinets and drawers, filled with all sorts of things you've little to no experience with. Magical implements, books, potions, medicine, and medicine. The medicine to your ails aren't out in the open, obviously, but they're in there somewhere. While scouting the little alcove, you see the little lantern girl walk up to this wooden box underneath a draped shelf near the ceiling. She yawns, and then begins pulling switches, flipping levers, turning wheels, unfolding this strange box into an extendable ladder. Quickly, she climbs up this ladder, and pulls herself onto her bed at the high shelf. Then, with one flick of a lever, the whole machine collapses back into the wooden box.

You don't get druids.

going to sleep.

>>2635
Night. This was fun. Hope to see your stuff again.

>>2651
Given how slow the board is, this thread will probably be here when I get back.

>>2666

http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/1573/

But if not, I archived it with brand new suptg technology!

>>2635
Mostly everyone is asleep. You don't presume anyone who is awake would muster up the courage to tell anyone, especially when you got a hammer bigger than their head. You could just steal their drugs, as is. Or you could earn them like a civilized person.

>Set your hammer down, sneak over, ransack the cabinets for some precious drugs
>You're too tired for petty thievery, sleep.

>>9239
>>You're too tired for petty thievery, sleep.

>>9239
sleep, but not before telling the druid 'good night'

>>9758
>>9469
You decide you're not up to it tonight, but you do take a moment over there to look at the little druid that brought you over here. Seems she's asleep already, but that doesn't stop you from saying good night. And with that, you sleep.

Ten hours later, you wake up. Two hours after that, you rise from your stirring. The lantern girl is sitting next to the master druid. The warchief's whittling sticks in his corner.

>Approach druids
>Snoop around the druid's corner
>Leave Longhouse
>Writein

>>9841
>>Approach druids

>>9841
>Approach druids

File: 1459454506758.jpg (3.94 MB, 3000x3000)

3.94 MB JPG

>>9893
>>9928
You walk to the druids. The older one seems clean and pretty. Certainly matches what you heard about Tiella.

"You're the bumbler my little sister found out there? Bigger than I expected. Why were you out and about?"

>"I-I'm not a bumbler, I knew exactly what I was doing out there!"
>"Shut up and give me your drugs."
>"I was a warchief and my village was wrecked by a fat girl and her fists. I need drugs to think straight, and she took them all, so..."
>Writein

>>10041
>"I was a warchief and my village was wrecked by a fat girl and her fists. I need drugs to think straight, and she took them all, so..."

Is the fat girl Tristram?

File: tegaki.png (6 KB, 400x400)

6 KB PNG

>>10067
who the fuck is tristram

>>10041
>"I was a warchief and my village was wrecked by a fat girl and her fists. I need drugs to think straight, and she took them all, so..."

>>10309
"I was a warchief and my village was wrecked by a fat human girl and her fists. I kind of need drugs to think straight, so... if you could..."

"Is that so?" The druid crosses her arms and leans back in her chair, seeming to be tired already. "Blonde hair, green eyes, perfectly white teeth?"

You nod.

Her eyes roll back into her head. "Typical. I had initially suspected her of selling ill-gotten goods, but she seemed to know too much about the drugs to be a petty thief." She finishes rolling her eyes to look back at you, more fed up with the world than she seemed to be. "Well, at least I know she isn't a common criminal. The whole village, you said? Everyone but you?"

You nod again.

"... Hm. Well, though the drugs were yours, and as ill-gotten as those goods were, I do need them. I do have something for folk like you, though. Go by the river and dunk your head in. Then, breathe in. The ice cold water goes straight to your head. Wakes you up nice and quick. If you are so inept as to be unable to perform this procedure properly, fall into the river, and everything will be fine."

>"Sure, I'll do that."
>"Can I have one? Just one? All I need is one, to get my head going."
>"Do I look retarded?"
>Writein

>>10422
>Sure

>"Do I look retarded?"

>>10422
>"Do I look retarded?"
Don't answer that.

>>10422
>>"Do I look retarded?"

>>10516
>>10663
>>10775
"Do I look retarded," you say as plainly as you can. Not as a question, but as an attempt to be imposing.

The druid isn't afraid of you. "Yes you do, but looks can be deceiving. If you are salvageable, you would be able to clear your thoughts in our pure waters. If not, you will be plucked from the river, and tossed to the other side of the bridge downstream. I will not help you with your baptism. You must do it yourself."

What a fucking bitch. She's the lantern girl's sister? You can't believe that.

>Ask for a couple to get you going and promise to leave after that
>Extort drugs from her by force
>Go to the river, and attempt baptism
>Writein

>>11817
>Ask for a couple to get you going and promise to leave after that

>>11817
>"What's so special about the river? Why won't I die if I drown myself in it?"

>>11872
Seconded

We should probably know this before we take the Druids advice.

>>11872
>>11908
"What's so special about the river?" You begin. "Why won't I die if I drown myself in it?"

It seems like she would have smiled, save for the fact she doesn't have it in her to do so. "You're asking a lot of questions. Most would have left. You are starting to show promise, and I like that, so I'll forego being ambiguous. The water of our stream run from a lake high on the mountain of Stagnation. Its waters, colder than ice but never freezing as it shuffles along, shock to the touch. To feel such sting on the flesh is merely painful, but to feel it on the inside is quite... sobering. Ideally, you'd breathe through the nose and the cold will fill your head, condensing your foggy mind to be clear as water. However, despite our practices, it is still water. Drown, and you will die. To see if you are sharp enough to experience its mind-sharpening power, you must first decide whether or not you have the gall to approach the brink, and the wisdom to not surpass it."

You sigh. You probably have more options, but you're too dumb to see them.

>"... Interesting. Could I convince you to give me drugs so I can leave and never come back?" (Roll 1d6)
>Fuck that, and fuck her, you're going to make her give you your drugs back
>Go to the river and attempt baptism
>Writein

Rolled 3 (1d6)

>>12012
>"... Interesting. Could I convince you to give me drugs so I can leave and never come back?"

Rolled 5 (1d6)

>>12012
>"... Interesting. Could I convince you to give me drugs so I can leave and never come back?"

Rolled 2 (1d6)

>>12054
>"... Interesting. Could I convince you to give me drugs so I can leave and never come back?"

>>12054
>>12077
>>12087
Yeah, nah. You're not up for that. "Alright, but, could I convince you to give me the drugs so I can leave and not bother you?"

Seemingly on the fence but willing to defend her purchase, she puts a finger to her chin. "Perhaps. Why do you need them?"

"My village was sacked in my sleep. Without anyone being told to do anything, they stood there and took it. With the burning coals that were taken away from me, I can garner a force and kill this fat woman before she comes after other villages, such as yours." That's what you say, because that's awfully convincing, but you'll be the judge of what you'll be doing tomorrow.

>DC: 5

"Hm. Fine. I presume it would be wrong to deny the owner their stolen goods, especially when they've good intentions for it. Toral-"

The man in the dark corner of the warchief rises from sitting on his cot. He's a large man, couple inches taller than yourself, with wide broad horns. You'd bet he has to walk into the longhouse side-ways. Seeming to have been keeping track of the conversation, he begins to rummage through the druid's cabinets without being ordered to, grabbing nondescript bags, and bringing them to the table.

"Thank you," the druid says, as the hulk of a man returns to his dimly lit corner, with black wood bows and arrows cluttering the place. Your attention is brought back to the conversation by the feelings of bags pressing against your stomach as she pushed them over to you. You look down and take a look into them.

Acquired 5 Burning Coals, 3 Hot Ice

This isn't as much as you had before.

"I must apologize, for I didn't have the funds to buy all of her things, and she seemed only interested in currency." In response, you grumble. It's your problem, you bet she's thinking to herself. But before you could presume the conversation was over, the druidess spoke again. "Hold on, I have a favor to ask. If you could be so kind, would you tell the people of Boreal to send someone over to trade for me? They're to the south, in the snowy tundras under the colorful sky, and they've been rather secular lately. If they would come along and talk to me, I'd be able to restock without resorting to shady merchants. If not, I could send a tief or two to deliver the message, but people are prone to distractions."

>Accept the task
>You're no errand girl, reject the offer
>Writein

>>12247
>Accept the task
In exchange for a future favor, of course.

>>12247
>>Accept the task

Rolled 2 (1d6)

>>12247
>>Accept the task

>>12247
>Accept the task

>>12254
>>12268
>>12293
>>12456
Sure. You don't see why not. "Okay."

"Good. If I get someone before I decide to send someone out, perhaps I'll get you something, should you come around to receive."

Business seems to be settled, but it's a town, as empty as it is. There's probably stuff to do here, people to talk to. If you care, that is.

>Leave Tiella
>Take a Burning Coal
>Writein

I have work for 6 hours.

>>12472
Do we have money? If so check with the smith and get our gear checked.

>>12472
>work
My condolences.
>Take a Burning Coal

>>12472
>Take a Burning Coal

>>12478
You have no Rust to buy anything, and no practical metals, basically any metal you'd find a weapon made of, on your person in order to trade in place of Rust. You're pretty penniless, at the moment.

>>12483
>>12532
In the bag with the black balls of what look like some black tar are a couple of matches. You take a burning coal, a thing the size of an eyebal and squish it so it's in the shape of a cup. You put the match near the fire until it catches, and you light the bottom of the pit you squished into the burning coal, and pop it into your mouth.

As the black coating at the center fizzles away in the fire as it slides down into your stomach, the real work begins. Something happens, you're not sure what, but the intense heat in your mouth and the large ball in your throat were difficult enough to get you started. Your breaths become sharply hot, and something flows through your veins, first in your gut, and you feel it, whisking through the tubes which travel throughout your body and into your head, around your brain, into your eyes. You're used to this feeling by now, but you can't deny that this isn't what a completely clear head is like. A hot foggy breath is expelled, and you see things with clarity. Not perfect clarity; too much clarity. Everything appears to be focused on at once. Everything is... supple.

You are feeling particularly sober.

Perhaps you should readdress some things.

>>14991
Your name is Haeya. Your horns twirl like a goats. You were from Stagnation originally, but your family moved away because they didn't like the warchief there. He goes by the Iron Stag now. You are on the island Oci, land of the Tiefs. There's no metal ores of any sort. No iron, no gold, nothing of any value. All iron, gold, or anything of value comes in the hands of the adventurous humans, who seem to dominate most of the world. A bunch of them have devoted themselves to exterminating your race, as offsprings of some heresy and therefore demons. You can't understand why they're so angry at tiefs, though. You don't ever recall them doing anything aggressive. They just sit on their island and mind their own damn business. In response to these genocidalists - "crusaders," they call themselves, the Iron Stag's decided that our days of doing nothing are over and we will become a real power in comparison to the humans.

In the couple seconds it took to remember all that, you look around you.

This place is deserted. There's only seven tiefs in a longhouse large enough to hold thirty two. While there's plenty of food, it's certainly not enough to fill how much the town should be able to hold. You take a glance over at the fair, pale druidess, who is giving you an odd look. The little lantern druidess is looking around rather confused at the moment. The warchief, Toval, you believe he was called, eyes you cautiously from the corner as he whittles black wood arrows, as numerous bows of varying sizes and construction methods surround him, along with a gleaming iron axe hanging on the wall, with scratch marks from the number of times it's been removed from its wall mount.

You are carrying your Warchief outfit and your Petrified Greathammer. Other than that, you are completely empty-handed. You are in Tiella, which is the center-most village of Oci, barring the Unwanted Land to the far, far south.

What do you do?

>Leave the village and begin heading south to Boreal, the Ice Village.
>Perhaps you would appreciate a traveling companion? Begin searching for a decent one. Roll 1d6.
>Browse the shops anyway, knowing you cannot buy anything just yet.
>Writein
>

>>15030
>>Leave the village and begin heading south to Boreal, the Ice Village.

>>15030
>>Leave the village and begin heading south to Boreal, the Ice Village.

Rolled 1 (1d6)

Perhaps you would appreciate a traveling companion? Begin searching for a decent one. Roll 1d6.

>>15434
Supporting

Rolled 5 (1d6)

>>15626

Rolled 2, 2 = 4 (2d6)

>>15434
You take a quick look around, and barely find anyone to be disappointed over. Most people who are still here are unskilled commoners. Half of them were pulling the corpses of people who drowned themselves in the river out of it and into graves in the forests outside of the village. A few are clearly skilled fighters, brandishing clean, smooth, silky blades and wearing god damned polished armor, but they are duty bound to the village of Tiella as their protectors. You don't bother doubling back to see if that lantern girl is interested; her sister probably hates your guts and wouldn't let her join you, anyhow.

>>15631
You did find one, though. As you turned away from the spot where you saw what they were doing with the tiefs who drowned, you saw a tief leave one of the yurts, and make their way to the stream.

Rolling for the character.

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Rolled 1, 2 = 3 (2d6)

>>15689
He was a fighter, of his own making you presume. His armor was fashioned from petrified carved wood. As he stepped into the water, an powerful ripple coursing through his body at a mere foot in the water, he got down onto his knees, and dunked his head in. Seven seconds later, he emerged, and from the water came a weapon with him. A sword of petrified wood. It wasn't much, but without iron, there's not much to have.

The self-made Bulwark looks around boredly, and spots you.

>Take him
>Leave him

>>15740
>>Take him

>>15740
>Take him

>>15740
>Take him
"Hey boy, wanna join my party?"

>>15796
>>15810
You approach him as he pulls himself from the river.

"Hey, I'm looking for someone to travel to Boreal with me," You begin. He looks at you as he waits for you to continue. "Are you able to come?"

He fidgets, looking around a bit. For a while as he thought, you figured he was a typical indecisive tool for druids to do what they want and was about to walk away, when he spoke up. "Yeah," he says softly, his voice fading off like he were in deep thought. "I could do that. One less person doesn't mean that much, here."

"What's your name?" You ask.

His expression behind his mask, you can tell, is completely empty.

>Enter name

>>15896
Saelin

Rolled 4 (1d6)

>>15951
For a while, you thought he didn't have an answer. It's not unheard of, someone simply not naming their child and never getting around to it. It's still kind of rare, though. As you were about to continue talking, he speaks up.

"Saelin," he answers.

"I'm Haeya," you introduce yourself. You begin to walk through the town, and gesture him to follow.

>>15347
>>15318
You leave Tiella. The more south you go, the colder it gets. More and more snow fills the ground, never thawing. As you walk away from Tiella, the evergreens fade away, back into the purely black trees and white snow. Not for long, however, because once you're over this river, it's clear snowy tundras. Supposedly it looks beautiful at night, but you're going to have to get over there to see. For now, with the black wood and white snow, it's the same as it ever was.

Rolling possible encounter.
Also going to sleep with this roll.

Damn, we missed some good opportunities to find alternatives to drugs. We could have asked the little druid when we were first alone with her, she seemed like she would have given some legitimate suggestions. We could also have asked the guards about the people who drowned to see if the was any truth to the other druids claims about the river.

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>Not asking little druid to come with us
>Not pestering little druid in general

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>>18042
>>18087
As you walk through the cold forest, regrets fill your head. You should have at least tried to talk to that lantern-horned druid. She did eventually get you what you wanted. She deserves better than being left with her bitch of a sister who tells stupid people to drown themselves so she doesn't have to deal with them. And you could have asked the guards if the river baptism was even worth doing, however a few seconds after that you figure they might be rather biased. You blame not being on burning coals long enough to reconsider everything.

Saelin, who is not in your thoughts, can tell you're going through a laundry list of things in your head and continues to be silent.

As you walk through the slightly thinning forest of slowly rising snow, you see a figure slumped against a tree further down your path. From his black robe and dark horns which protrude forward from his hood and then hook straight up, you almost mistook him for part of the tree. You probably wouldn't have noticed him if not for how focused everything seems while on burning coals. As you begin to walk toward him, either to pass by or talk, you realize that he is sleeping, rather heavily if you could be the judge of that.

>Wake up the meandering tief
>Let the sleeping tief lie
>Writein

>>19100
>WAKE ME UP INSIDE

>>19100
Wake up and keep going

OP still here?

>>19232
Yeah, waiting for other inputs. Sorry for being slow.

>>19171
>>19127
Disregarding how many ways sleeping out in the cold can do you bad, you're surprised this man wasn't eaten by a wolf or something. You put your hand on his shoulder and rustle him awake.

He comes to slowly, blearily, and without much commotion. His eyes barely open, just squinting, and after taking the moment to acknowledge your existence, his wide mouth crooks upward into the slightest of smiles. "Hello," he greets in a calm voice. "I was fine, but thank you for showing interest. Did you want to talk?"

>Ask him why he was asleep in the middle of nowhere
>Just wanted to make sure he knew he was at risk of being torn apart by wolves, you'll be on your way
>Writein

>>19488
>>Ask him why he was asleep in the middle of nowhere

>>19488
>>Ask him why he was asleep in the middle of nowhere

>>19607
>>20357
"Why are you sleeping out here? Not only is it cold as hell and dangerous, it's also the middle of the day."

He rolls his head to the side, like he were having this conversation in bed. "Oh, it's fine. I was waiting for my friends, who said they'd be along by nightfall. And it's not cold. Black absorbs light, so these robes are very, very warm. I could sleep anywhere in these, so I do. I have some to spare, if you're interested. No charge, I doubt I'd ever get rid of all these." Now that he brings up his robes, you did notice something off with them, and upon a second look it seems his robes have some color to them, though no spot on the completely pitch black robe is any brighter than another.

"What if a wolf tears your throat out in your sleep?" Saelin inquires suddenly.

The dark clad man, still half asleep you'd figure based on how calm and drowsy he's being, lolls his head over to look at your wood-clad companion, and shakes his head. "They know not to come by. I could kill them in my sleep. I did, once." He looks back at you, propped up against a stone tree about a foot deep in snow, as comfy as could be. "Anyway, do you want one?"

>"Sure," it's free anyway.
>You don't need it. Decline politely and walk away.
>Ask why he's meeting up with friends in the middle of nowhere at night.
>Point out the impossible color on his robes.
>Smash him with your greathammer. Roll 1d6.
>Writein

>>20662
>>"Sure," it's free anyway.

>>20662
>"Sure," it's free anyway.

>>20662
>>"Sure," it's free anyway..
>>Point out the impossible color on his robes.

>>20662
>>"Sure," it's free anyway.

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Sorry I don't update often. College finals week approaching, and all that.

>>20669
>>20694
>>21106
>>22370
"Sure," you say. As odd as this fellow is, you're dirt poor, and you'd appreciate a gift, even if you were to just turn the corner and sell it as soon as you could.

He adjusts his seat and withdraws an equally black bag, from which he draws a black robe and hands it to you. "There you are. Something to remember me by."

Acquired Strange Black Robe.

Okay, that robe is really bugging you. You absolutely, positively sure that the robe is completely black, but at the same time, it does, undeniably, have color. You don't fucking get it. "Did you stain your robe, or something?" You ask, pointing to the spot, which is folded in over itself hiding the shape.

The sleepy tief looks down and unfurls part of his robe, revealing it as a flat surface to you.

"I don't see anything," he responds, closely inspecting it. "Light might be burned into your eyes. You should sleep more, I'd suggest." He glances back up at you. "Is there anything else?"

>Leave.
>Insist there is something there.

>>24789
>>Leave.

>>24789
>Leave

>>24842
>>26282
Perhaps this isn't something you should delve too deeply in.

"No," you say, careful not to upset him. "I ought to be on my way."

"Safe travels," bids the drowsy tief, as his head droops down and the hood covers his face, wanting quickly to get back to sleep as you and the quiet Saelin make your way south to Boreal.

End of thread one.

I will post in the weekend quest thread that I'll be making a new thread and running when I am more able to do so more actively, as threads autosage automatically after 3 days and this current way I'm doing these things isn't very good.