>>274382

Alright folks. After a couple of weeks of moving, stress, and fighting XFinity to the death, I finally have something resembling stability in my life again. For those dropping by for the first time, welcome! This is a quest detailing the trials and tribulations of Lee Townsend, a former bard and illusionist cut down in his prime then resurrected some couple of decades later as a skeleton.

The backlog can be found here:
http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?searchall=re%3A+animated

And all announcements for the quest are posted to my twitter:
https://twitter.com/bananon_QM

>>274382
>[] Go after the remaining bandits (Who do you take with you
Does Galblassa still have his bow and arrows? We could take him along to do some sniping and preventing any bandits from running, while Lee and Michael terrify and purge the bandits.

>>274382
>> [] Go after the remaining bandits (Who do you take with you? The others will see the girl back to town)+ 0 post omitted.
Don't want to leave antagonists laying around.

>>274382
This sounds good >>274441

File: moon.jpg (5 KB, 300x168)

5 KB JPG

>>274382

"Well..." you say, looking over your assorted comrades, the bandits, the child. "I don't suppose you could drive two carts back on your own, could you, Ricky?"

"It'd be hell driving both horses," he comments, "but I think I can handle it so long as they stay unconscious."

"Just take it slow," you say.

"And bludgeon the pricks every now and again," Michael adds.

"As for you, Gal, do you think you could lay down some support fire and make sure none of the bandits escape? Michael and I can probably do a reasonable job of storming the place, but there's probably more than one exit for every entrance."

"No problem," Gal grunts, testing the pull of his bow. You can hear a bit of discomfort as his chest stretches on the new made stitches, but he otherwise offers no retraction as he saddles up his horse.

"To Serathin's Quarry, then," you acknowledge, turning your horse with a flourish before galloping off into the night.

"So I imagine we'll be goin' for a bit o' shock and awe like last time," Michael comments, pulling ahead just as you recall you have no idea where you are going. "Question is, do you want to put a finer point on it than that?"

"Not sure how much finer of a point we can manage before seeing the place."

"Well... It's a quarry, and that's gotta count for somethin'," Michael points out. "It's a hole in the ground, first and foremost, which'll give it a lip for an archer's perch. Reckon they'll have their own man spottin' for trouble with the base closer toward the bottom, which means we ought to arrive quiet as possible to know where to start punching. We'll catch one if we can and from there, we set up Gal and start havin' at the bastards."

> Seems this may require some amount of stealth:
> Roll 2d100

Rolled 55, 52 = 107 (2d100)

>>274762

Rolled 3, 9 = 12 (2d100)

>>274762
>> Roll 2d100

Rolled 35, 42 = 77 (2d100)

>>274762

File: dinorwig-un-topo.jpg (196 KB, 1133x756)

196 KB JPG

>>274762

It's an odd feeling, traveling in twilight through unfamiliar lands. Before, the thrill of urgency had carried you along with it, but now, with a longer road ahead, you have just enough time and pressence of thought to think about where you're going and where you are passing through on the way. Past old windmills and collapsed towers, around fresh fields and burgeoning hamlets, all of it sways in sleepy shadows between unfamiliar hollows and darkened trails.

Still, Father Michael's aim is true, and after a mesmerizingly long journey, just as the sun is casting a predawn glow on the horizon, you spy a rift opening up past the thinning tree line.

"We're here," he says as he slows his horse. "Reckon we might to dismount as well before- Shite!"

With a sharp intake of breath Michael's eyes flicker across the far side of the quarry at something you can't quite make out with the sun in your eyes and your visor in the way. Whatever it is, however, Galblassa's bow has an arrow sailing after it shortly, though you can tell by his sour expression that his aim wasn't true.

"Guess the welcome's gonna get pretty warm," Gal grumbles, tying off his horse before moving to the edge of the abyss and readying a few arrows. "Can't even see where the runt took off to."

"Probably ducked into a conceiled tunnel entrance," Michael growls. "Like hairless rats, the lot of 'em."

"Well, rats backed into a corner are still dangerous," you remind him. "Let's get a move on before they can get organized."

> The question is where:
> Roll 2d100 to find the entrance, bonus for creative search techniques
> How do you want to make your entrance?

Rolled 86, 85 = 171 (2d100)

>>274996
>> Roll 2d100 to find the entrance, bonus for creative search techniques
Look at where animals go. You could follow bats into the tunnel.

>>275086
Oh, also, sneaky entrance. No need to announce our presence.

Rolled 49, 71 = 120 (2d100)

>>274996
Go stealthy for now.

Rolled 34, 95 = 129 (2d100)

>>274996
Sneaky is fine.

Also you might consider moving back to /tg/. /qst/ is ded

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

6 KB PNG

>>275506
Are quests actually allowed on /tg/ now?

File: eiRyvnh.png (75 KB, 700x500)

75 KB PNG

>>275519

Quests were never explicitly disallowed. I just tried to move as a courtesy to the mods. Perhaps in hind-sight, that was a mistake. I have to wonder if moving back though will really do much to draw in new players.

>>275519
m8 they were never banned.I follow several quests that have been running since /qst/ was started up.

>>275556
So aside from the shitposters, there is no negative consequences to running a quest on /tg/? How quaint.

>>275553
No idea if it will or not. Sometimes quests just fail. However, I doubt you're going to do well with anything you run on here. Also Fuck the mods

Whatever you decide I've enjoyed your quest and I hope it continues and I hope you continue runnings quests.

>>275564
Pretty much every time I see someone say something like "You have your own board or GO TO /QST/" it is deleted fairly quickly.

Honestly, I wish they'd just give /qst/'s features to /tg/. It'd actually do some good there.

>>275573
>Whatever you decide I've enjoyed your quest and I hope it continues and I hope you continue runnings quests.
Same here. Don't give up Bananon!

File: 4-Beltling-Quarry-6-2009.jpg (401 KB, 3648x2432)

401 KB JPG

>>275573
>>275586
Thanks guys! I appreciate it!

>>274996

Michael shrugs as the two of you begin trotting toward the slope that leads deeper down into the quarry, eyes sweeping side to side as he apparently tries to spy an entryway from above.

"Never was much good at hide and seek," he admits. "Not much'a one for caves either. Damn things are full o' nothing but spiders, snakes, bats, and trouble. And not even the fun kind!"

"Hmm... bats," you murmur to yourself, as you notice a flock of black shapes twirling above in the morning sun before descending into what you realize must be a second half of the quarry. "I think that gives me an idea!"

Quickening your steed to a gallop, you continue past the entry ramp and through another stretch of trees, crossing perhaps another hundred feet before discovering the much smaller, hidden cove beyond. The sound of cascading water is quieter than you could have imagined, the stream running over soft corners and slopes before coming to rest at the bottom as little more than a whisper until you draw near. Yet here it is, and more pressingly where the current takes a final plunge downward, you can see the flying forms splashing in and out. How quaint.

"Sneaky buggers," Michael laughs as the two of you quickly make for the next entryway.

Abandoning the horses at the lip of the crevice, you make your way quickly down in absolute silence, eyes warily scanning for any sign of a lookout. Fortunately, it seems this way is clear and surprisingly well kempt, a smooth, circular path leading down beyond the waterfall. A little water splashing on top of your helm, and you find yourself face to face with a reinforced door, a pair of softly glowing stones set in the wall on either side.

> What to do?
> [] Try to kick in the door (4d100)
> [] Knock
> [] Other

Rolled 85, 11, 41, 7 = 144 (4d100)

>>275658
>> [] Try to kick in the door (4d100)
BARDIC STYLE

>>275658
>[] Other
Check those stones, and the door to see if it's locked. Maybe we can manipulate the mana in the stones to unlock the door.

Rolled 89, 24, 24, 48 = 185 (4d100)

>>275658
>> [] Try to kick in the door (4d100)

>>275687

Lee would recognize these off hand as being something like the equivalent of flameless torches made by a mage. It'll wind up in the story post, but If you'd like to roll the last set of dice, I do take best of first three.

Rolled 14, 43, 67, 79 = 203 (4d100)

>>275741
Okay.

File: The Sun.png (116 KB, 319x319)

116 KB PNG

>>275658

You take a moment to assess the situation as Michael files in behind you. The door looks normal enough to your eyes, but the lights, those enchantments...

"They probably have a mage with them," you note quietly. "This sort of shoddy enchantment only lasts a day or so before it has to be renewed."

"Lovely," Michael chuckles. "Reckon that ought to liven things up a bit."

"So do you think we should knock?" you ask casually, knowing full well the answer you're about to receive.

"Oh, aye," Michael says with a grin, "I've got my knocker for 'em right here."

With an experimental kick from his foot, you share a look of common understanding, your posture now mirroring his as you both crouch down readying your charge on the doorframe. You feel the magic come over you with a thought, strengthening your bones for the task at hand. Three, two, one, and in a blur you're both flying forward, legs craning backward for an instant before exploding outward against the hard wood with a thunderous rapport.

You can feel the resistance as a shockwave ripples back through your bones in response, a brief moment of defiance from the barrier resolving itself as you hear the sound of snapping hinges and the massive oak edifice is sent careening inward with a rush of air. It sails gallantly onward for a solid second after before, with another defeaning boom, its sent slamming down on a set of hard stone steps, this to the apparent horror of three seated guards in the middle of what you suspect is a game of poker.

"Top of the mornin' to ya," Michael greets, as casually as if he had just been let in. "Now can I interest any of you lads in hearin' the word of our savior, The Lord of Light?"

> What to do?
> [] Attack [4d100]
> [] Try to cow them [Xd100 depending on plan]
> [] Other

>>275890
>[] Try to cow them
"I know what you boys are thinking. 'It's just two guys, and we're three. One's a priest, the other's just skin and bones.
"But seeing as we just smashed down a door that would have taken four grown men to break, the Father here's troll-blooded and I *lift up visor, use magic to make our skull flame on* am THE VERY EMBODIMENT OF VENGEANCE AND RAGE, you've gotta ask yourself one question: Do I feel lucky?
"Well, do you, punks?!"

>>275890

>>275926
Gonna go with this.

Through I'd try to keep them alive.

>>275890

Hahaha, seconding this >>275926

File: 1460497432723.jpg (204 KB, 480x583)

204 KB JPG

>>275890

"Now I know what you boys are thinking," you say, taking advantage of that moment of stunned silence before they can even think of reaching for their weapons. "They're just two guys, and we're three. One's a priest, and the other's just a pile of skin and bones. That must be what you're thinking, but-"

A dagger goes sailing into your rib cage, courtesy of the gentleman on your left, but he's quick to retake his seat as you pull it out and casually present the bloodless blade.

"But seeing as we just smashed down a door that would have taken four grown men to break, the Father here is troll-blooded and I-" you say, reaching up to remove your visor and willing the roar of crackling flame to erupt from within. "AM THE VERY EMBODIMENT OF VENGEANCE AND RAGE ITSELF, you've gotta ask yourself one question: Do I feel lucky?" With another burst of strength, you bend the dagger and toss it back at its owner's feet. "Well, do you, punks?"

"O-o-oh, f-fuck this!" mutters one of the bandits, as the other's pale faces just shake in tremulous unison.

"Oh, don't be like that," Michael admonishes, now taking up the empty seat at the table. "Ya see, we ain't even angry yet. Well, guess that one's angry, pure rage an' all, but my point being things're goin' pretty smooth right now and they'll go a lot smoother for the lot of ya if ye'll kindly point us to whose arse needs the majority of the kicking for this little outfit."

"Charlotte's room is just down the hall!" the bandit directly across from Michael bleets. "P-Past the guard post and at the round chamber, hang a right! She'll be the second door on the left!"

"Thank ye kindly for yer cooperation. Just for that-" In a flash, Michael's hands are behind the other bandits' heads, slamming them into the table with enough force to leave indents as their bodies go limp. "Ye get to look after yer friends here while we get the rest of yer ilk sorted out!"

"I, um, I..."

You leave him to process his new position as caretaker as you both continue your march down the hallway, the pulsing in your head and limbs reminding you to shut off the strength augmentation before it runs you dry again. Of course, no sooner do you feel the massive strain removed than you are already hearing the sound of boots thundering toward the guard station.

> What to do? [4d100 either way]
> [] Setup an ambush
> [] Try to terrorize them again
> [] Fight

Rolled 96, 25, 29, 5 = 155 (4d100)

>>276087
>> [] Try to terrorize them again
SPOOKY SCARY SKELETON

Rolled 32, 30, 84, 25 = 171 (4d100)

>>276087
>[] Setup an ambush
Use magic for flashes of lights in their eyes and tolling bells in their ears.

File: spookying intensifies, sk(...).gif (59 KB, 275x275)

59 KB GIF

Rolled 70, 80, 94, 54 = 298 (4d100)

>>276087
> [] Try to terrorize them again

File: balrog.jpg (106 KB, 1024x683)

106 KB JPG

>>276087

You don't have to be tough; you just have to look the part. You repeat it as a mantra to yourself as you conjure a ball of shadow and use it to blanket the room and adjoining hallways in total darkness. Be it torch light or magic, all light fades away, leaving an empty canvas on which you'll be working your magic. Father Michael takes the hint and simply fades away into the shadows, leaving you to your work as the footsteps draw near, closer and closer, until finally you begin deliberately walking toward the centere of the chamber.

"What the-" The voice of a startled guard echoes in the dark, a darkness quickly pierced by flames as they spring from up from your every step.

"Riddle me this
Would you please?"
Your voice echoes, dark and haunting as embers form a silhouette about your form.
"What would you call
this strange disease
That makes men suffer
And ignore the pleas
Of their fellow men
With such dreadful ease?"

"The f-fuck is this?" you here one shout, seeing a score of faces now frozen at the edge of the dark.

"An answer"
"To a question"
"Wherein sin lacks all discretion"

"How can you ask"
"Why can't you see"
"Do you hear the bell?"
"It tolls for thee?"

With each new proclamation you summon a new wraith of cinders to your growing flock, a dreadful hoard of ashes with baleful eyes, each speaking a line in turn.

"An answer"
"It begins"
"Now face judgment"
"For all your sins"
"We're coming"
"Don't run away"
"Your sins run rampant"
"Now you must pay"

Throwing all of your focus into it, you draw the cinders to yourself, amalgamating them about your form to create something grand and terrible, a demon of twisting flame and agony, roaring through the supernatural darkness as it unfurls its unholy wings. All this is accompanied with a burst of illusory heat so real you can practically feel it cook your bones.

It's difficult to hear anything over the unearthly din of that primal roar, yet the clatter of dropped weapons and high pitched shrieks that follow somehow manage the task. You barely dismiss the darkness in time to see the last of their fleeing forms. Wait, you didn't dismiss your darkness!

"What the hell is going on here!?" demands the sorceress as she comes storming down a different hallway from the fleeing men. Two others follow in her wake, a woman with an iron rod and a man with a many-notched shield and axe.

> How do you respond?
> [] Fear me!
> [] Rip and tear!
> [] Other

>>276302
>[] Rip and tear!

>>276302
> [] Rip and tear!
Knock out the mage first. it'll be safer for us and her because we then wont have to try and kill her.

File: ArqXKdG.png (74 KB, 600x600)

74 KB PNG

>>276302
>>276331
>>276444

Alright folks. It's getting a little late now, and I figure we're a little thin on audience. That said, I think we'll call it here for tonight and start up again tomorrow around the same time with this same thread.

It seems right now that fighting is taking the majority lead. Assuming this holds, give me 4d100 and a strategy. We'll pick up again tomorrow.

Rolled 59, 12, 68, 80 = 219 (4d100)

>>276466
If we can, we should use that ember trick to blast them in the face with the light and soot, Then rush Down the mage. Focus on speed and reinforcement.

>>276523
I like this idea!

Rolled 58, 86, 16, 67 = 227 (4d100)

>>276466
Supporting >>276523

Rolled 74, 99, 32, 71 = 276 (4d100)

>>276466
RIP AND TEAR!
https://youtu.be/kjIVkl34Vig

File: 84ec3b91a69c26092488a10d6(...).jpg (197 KB, 727x1099)

197 KB JPG

>>276302
>>276466

Hmm. Well, this isn't good. This isn't good at all, but as you're enemies draw near you rationalize it will only get worse if you wait for them to organize. What you need now is surprise.

Fortunately, while the sorceress dispelled your darkness, the demon of cinders is still very much commanding the center of the room. The looming form rounds on them now, surging with light and illusory heat, hellish flames building behind its maw as it rounds on them and releases a blast of searing flames.

The man with the shield is no coward. He proves as much as he throws himself in front of his leader with shield raised high, hellbent on blocking the incoming blast. Were the flames real, it surely would have saved them all from the worst of the incoming damage. However, before he comes to suspect his error, it's already too late, and your blade is slashing into his shield arm, knocking him sideways before you swing around in a flash to slice into the sorceress' unprotected shoulder.

Multiple screams go up in that short burst of time, of fear, of confusion, and then of anger.

"Charlotte!" roars the woman with the iron rod as she muscles her way out from the wall, taking a peculiar stance.

Doesn't she know that blunt weapons can't be used like staves or that pipes make exceedingly poor bludgeons? Whatever the case, you ready your sword and-

*Bang!*

The world goes white as you are hit with a pure blast of concussive force slamming into your plate and against the bones beneath, setting your imaginary ears to ringing as it echoes in the narrow hallway and pressing your back flat against the wall. Okay, so two mages... and your mana seems to be wearing down, that makes things worse.

> What to do?
> [] Focus on the injured mage
> [] Focus on the pipe wielding mage
> [] Focus on the injured shield wielder
> [] Other

>>279001
>[] Focus on the injured mage
Geek the mage first.
Father Michael can take care of the other mage and the fighter.

>>279001
>>279056

Ah, right. Also, give me 4d100.

Rolled 32, 30, 23, 46 = 131 (4d100)

>>279070

Come on, somebody else please roll better than me.

Rolled 51, 99, 56, 57 = 263 (4d100)

>>279070
>>279156
Here you go

File: hour-glass.jpg (1.24 MB, 1920x1440)

1.24 MB JPG

>>279241
>>279080

Guess I'll start writing the next update, if there are no more rolls.

File: 1460497357140.jpg (365 KB, 1680x1050)

365 KB JPG

>>279001
>>279080
>>279241

But again, there isn't time to worry about it. You still have the advantage, your sword, and the other humans seem to be reeling from the explosion no less than you. So, with all the frantic speed you can muster, you pull yourself off the wall and bring another powerful overhand chop down on what you assume to be Charlotte.

Unarmored as she is, the blade surely would have split her head in two, but instead of soft flesh you find yourself connecting instead with a force field emerging from her other hand.

"Who are you?" she demands as sparks fly off her barrier.

"Your worst nightm-"

But before you can complete that tried and true comeback, another explosion rocks the wall behind your head, an unfortunate lapse in aiming on the part of the woman probably stemming from the knives now sprouting from her shoulder. Further up the hall, you can see Father Michael moving to pincer the mage.

"Now, we can do this the easy way or the hard-"

That's all Michael manages to choke out before a blast of force sends him slamming into the end of the hallway, courtesy of the sorceress who now has her back to you. Unfortunately for her, that leaves her back wide open, or it would have had her friend with the axe not seen fit to bury it into your shoulder as you swung, turning a downing shot into a grazing blow.

"Oh, this is just lovely," you mumble as you feel the lightheadedness set in.

Looks like your about out of juice.

> What to do?
> [] Hold out for another round (4d6 then 2d6)
> [] Give it everything you've got! (8d6; Burnout)
> [] Who do you prioritize?
> [] Other

Rolled 5, 1, 6, 3 = 15 (4d6)

>>279405
> [] Hold out for another round (4d6 then 2d6)
[] Other
That literal God-given power we got sure would come in handy now, if only for endurance

>>279783
>>279405

Oh god. Please replace all instances of d6 with d100.

Also, you have been using that power in bursts during fights. Between that and the huge demonic illusion, you've simply been chewing through a lot of mana.

Rolled 15 (1d100)

>>279798
Argh.
Maybe try channeling it into the armor then? if we do that at least we dont have to worry about getting hurt, and increasing our defense and putting our bones back together, so its one less thing to put mana into, along with whatever else it'll do.

Rolled 75, 12, 48 = 135 (3d100)

>>279823
Got confused

>>279823

You may be able to channel extra mana into your armor, reconfiguring it to more durable plate, but bear in mind that will take away from the amount you can use on offense.

Rolled 54, 54, 81, 33 = 222 (4d100)

>>279405
>> [] Hold out for another round (4d6 then 2d6)
Stab the sorceress!

File: 1460501058873.png (1.17 MB, 800x1173)

1.17 MB PNG

>>279405
>>279826
>>280001

Well, you can't keep this up all day, that's for sure. However, in the short term, you might at least be able to deprive your enemies of one of their weapons. Thus, focusing some of your mana in a burst, you try to seal up the armor around the axe head quickly before they can pull it back out. This leads to somewhat... mixed success.

"Oh no you don't!" you hear the person shout, before with a rough pull and push of his foot, he sends you staggering away from him.

"Gah!" And right within swinging distance of his sorceress ally, whose focus your steal right before Michael lays into her with a hard right straight.

*Bang*

This time, the gun connects solidly and sends you bashing against the wall, your head spinning around in circles as a horrific warmth spreads from your skull, one that reminds you of how insignificant this world of mortal troubles truly is, of the serenity that lies just beyond the veil. Fortunately, the man with the axe beats some sense back into you, knocking your helm clean off in the process.

"What the hell?" he questions, as your skull glares back at him.

You don't have magic left to throw up another disguise. It's just you, your sword, and two bruised and battered warriors.

> Roll 2d100

Rolled 18, 27 = 45 (2d100)

>>280142

Rolled 54, 55 = 109 (2d100)

>>280142

Rolled 42, 74 = 116 (2d100)

>>280142
Well, time to change tactics. Lets hope we can put our footwork to use against this axe idiot. least we dont have to worry about getting cut, really.

Rolled 38, 81 = 119 (2d100)

>>280142
>> Roll 2d100

>It's just you, your sword, and two bruised and battered warriors.

AND THE FICKLE RNG

File: 1460497014320.jpg (107 KB, 900x820)

107 KB JPG

>>280142

"I'm not guessing I could convince you to lay down your arms?" you ask, hefting your sword as you begin sizing up the other two. Unfortunately, their expressions tell you all you need to know. "Right then. Guess there's more than one way to get your point across!"

With a swift chop you try to bait out an attack from the axeman you can parry. Instead, no sooner have you lowered your arms than he's swinging in from the side, cleaving into your injured arm with a sickening snap that lets you know it's just been severed.

"Well that's rude," you quip, throwing your blade at him as a brief distraction before, with a spinning flourish you fully detatch your wayward limb and let fly with an unexpected slap, one you double back on before dropping the hand, planting your foot in his stomach, and gathering up your discarded sword.

"Alright," you say, while the other man flounders, turning on the other woman. "Now it's just the two of us."

"Correction-" Michael throws in as a flying sorceress goes crashing into your distracted. "Now it's just the two of -us-. Now are ye gonna surrender, or do we have to spill yer guts on the floor."

The man pauses for the first time in the fight, looking between his downed allies and the two of you still on your feet. Finally, with a sigh, he simply throws down his shield, muttering indistinct curses to the gods as he takes to his knees.

"Lovely," Michael says before a look of momentary shock runs through his expression. "Not guessing you lot would happen to have manacles or some rope lying about, would ye?"

"Shackles and rope are in the dungeons," the man offers after a long pause. "Not that we have anybody in there."

"Until quite recently," you add, and the man immediately looks away.

"Knew those idiots couldn't handle this sort of job," he mumbles. "Jormund probably pissed off before they even got a couple miles out."

"Jormund?" you probe.

"Big, hairy, looks like an overgrown bull," he explains. "Son of a bitch is probably sleepin' off a hangover at the Ornery Mule as we speak."

"Aye, I remember you an' Gal beatin' that one bloody senseless!" Michael yells from down the hall.

"Wait? You lot beat Jormund?" he questions, obviously confused.

"Unless he had a twin brother, I'm pretty sure that was him," you offer. "He's on his way back to town as we speak."

"Ah, bloody hell," the man grumbles. "You lot ain't human."

"Well, I would think that would be a given," you say, remembering to go back and pick up your helm, reattaching both it and your missing arm with a clinking of metal and snap of bone.

"And what does that make you?" he demands.

"Complicated."

-Cont

File: DoubleBarrelShotgun.png (779 KB, 3000x700)

779 KB PNG

>>280403

It's not long before Michael returns with a rather obscene amount of rope and shackles at his disposal of various shapes and sizes.

"I'd wager we'll be having a talk about the skeletons hanging from the walls," Michael assures him, as he claps on the irons. "Guessing they aren't fakes put up fer decoration."

At this point, the man says nothing, just spits as he watches the rest of his allies bundled up for the journey back to town. Michael takes the liberty of removing the contents of their pockets while he's at it: lockpicks, spell components, a hidden dagger or two, parchment, the list goes on and on until he's seemingly satisfied. You note that he whistles appreciatively when he takes the rod the woman was using in hand.

"Ah. You don't seem to see a Smith's scattergun everyday," he coos, cradling the object in a manner similar to the woman before working a few metallic pieces and letting a metal cylinder fall to the ground by his feet.

"And that is..." you probe.

"It's a scattergun!" he says, then seems to remember who he's talking to. "Oh aye, reckon these weren't around when last you were walkin' around. Basically, a gaggle of artificers with more skill than sense invented these beauties to spit fire, smoke, and little bits of metal at whatever pricks annoyed 'em. Wasn't long before the plans got out and about, though."

"So now everyone has these... things?" you question.

"Pah! That'd be the day. Fortunately, the things are too damn expensive for the common rogue to keep themselves in powder, and the mage's guild has managed to keep that little secret locked away with them. Kinda surprised that she had as many as she did to burn on yar boney arse!"

> What to do?
> [] Explore the bandit's hideout, there might be loot
> [] Get going as soon as possible
> [] Other

>>280491
>> [] Explore the bandit's hideout, there might be loot
Look for secret hiding places!

>>280491
>> [] Explore the bandit's hideout, there might be loot
Michael should watch the bandits while we explore though

>>280491
>[] Explore the bandit's hideout, there might be loot
Also prisoners/kidnapped people.

File: dungeon (1).jpg (137 KB, 1024x768)

137 KB JPG

>>280491

"Michael," you pose, "do you imagine you could keep an eye on this lot while I examine the rest of the base? You know, make sure there aren't any people hiding or otherwise conceiled."

"Not to mention goods in need of redistributin'," Michael adds, "but, aye, I can manage. Just let me grab our friends from the back door."

It isn't long before Michael's back around with the one conscious and two unconscious men in tow, dropping them like luggage on the floor next to the others.

"Now get," he says, "and if ye run into any trouble, ye know where to find me."

With that, you're off, into the wonderful winding caverns of a recently stormed bandit's base. And granted you just saw their elite members coming from one direction, you feel you can make a solid guess as to where the more important articles might be kept.

"Second room on the left," you remember, but first, you take a peak into the room before it.

Never in your life did you expect to see such extravagance in a cave-based dwelling. Rich rugs and glittering coins, a featherbed and silken sheets, like a merchant with more money than self-control had exploded everywhere with a patchwork and mishmash of horrible taste. The dizzying blend of color almost makes you ill in the way it hangs over the entire room: the entire room, that is, save for a single little table that seems to have been set aside with care, a strange press hanging off to one side and several of those little cylinders sitting on top with metal shavings all over the floor.

"Promising," you murmur, but it seems there is no powder to be had.

With that in mind, you check the door across the hall, most likely the man's. Whereas the other room is exploding with unnecessary luxuries, his living space (nearly twice the size of hers) is Spartan, filled with no ornament save a few weapon racks on the walls and a few maps thoroughly laden with tacks and drawing lines, what appears to be the entire region mapped out to show the invisible underbelly. You'll have to return to this later.

The last door on the right, you recognize as probably leading down to the dungeon, but you trust Michael to have checked that way fully. So, with only one door left, you enter the mage's quarters.

Sunlight: that is the first notable difference as you step into the palatial room. A fine bed big enough for three, a desk laden with supplies, and several stations sporting alembics and formulae, as well as a few messenger birds in a cage.

It's on one such station you see a curious powder being sifted, the blackish blue granules collecting in a jar at the bottom of what seems to be a massively complex process. However, your attention is drawn away from that when you see something even more strange out of the corner of your eye.

File: red-silkrs.jpg (1.28 MB, 1920x1080)

1.28 MB JPG

>>280763

Silk, you realize, as you turn to bolts upon bolts of it stacked high upon the shelves, a veritable fortune of the stuff far outweighing the worth of anything you see to the treasury beside it, a few gold bars, trinkets, and jewelery playing a paltry second. It's truly an amazing sight, amazing as it is horrid, as you see the red and black among the white, reminding you of its probably source.

So here you stand, surrounded by a veritable fortune of knowledge, powder, gold, and blood-tainted silk.

> What do you do?
> [] Take what you can carry (in books, gold, or silk?)
> [] Return to Michael and report what you found
> [] Other

>>280769
[x] Return to Michael and report what you found
We can't take it all with us, we'd need a few wagons.

[x] Take what you can carry in gold
We can use the gold to immediately rent some horses and wagons.

>>280769
> [] Take what you can carry (in books, gold, or silk?)
Grab a promising looking book on Magic if you can find one, and a Weapon from the warriors room, and then :
> [] Return to Michael and report what you found

File: horse and cart.jpg (149 KB, 800x430)

149 KB JPG

>>280769
>>280799
>>280986


Well, clearly you aren't taking all of this away in nothing but your pockets. Do you even have pockets? Whatever the situation may be- Oh look! She had a traveling bag!

Whatever the situation may be with your pockets or lack thereof, you're going to need decidedly more carrying space for all of what you've seen. For now, it's best just to focus on the basics. Gold, an easily liquidated asset: it could certainly make life easier, maybe help you hire on some horses and come back to get the rest. And the powder, well, while you certainly don't want to take a volatile substance on the road with you, you can at least go ahead and grab some of your fellow mage's notes on the process. So after, a few minutes looking over the room and stuffing your recently acquired bag full of as many promising looking titles as you can find as well as ducking back into the man's quarters to grab a sword that didn't look like it came straight from the grave, you head on back to your priestly compatriot, whose flock seems to have grown since last you left.

"A couple of the dogs came back for their mates," he explains, "or for some easy to grab loot. Either way, what've ye found?"

"Little in the way of persons of interest, more in the way of alchemical stockpiles and spider silk-"

"Don't you touch my lab, you filthy beasts! You have no idea what you're- mmf!" Her irate spiel dissolves into an indistinct murmur as Father Michael shoves what appears to be a many notted rope in between her teeth.

"You know," he says as she continues to struggle. "Normal procedure for captured mage criminals is to smash their fingers to bits. You know, to keep 'em from wigglin' around too much." As the words soak in, she stops cold. "Now, can ye get along peaceful like until we make it to the proper authorities?"

After a spite filled moment, she nods.

"Great, now unless you wanna get dragged the rest of the way, mind showing us where ye keep yer horses?"

With a cat-like grin and more than a bit of prodding, Michael eventually manages to get the tied together bandits roused and in a train, marching along in the direction you'd seen the majority of the bandits fleeing before.

Sure enough, as you come nearer to the other side, passing a guard station and an empty barracks, you find an alcove with a few horses and a working cart, though the latter being far too small to accomodate even a third of your present retinue. Over to the side, you also see another cart, but that too damaged to hold much of anything.

"Well, shite," Michael sighs. "Ain't this gonna be a pain in the arse?"

What's more, outside, you can see at least three more bandits lying on the ground, perhaps under no condition to move.

> What to do?
> [] Bring the bandits back on foot, load the horses with loot, and come back for the injured
> [] Load the injured onto a cart, make the others walk. Leave the loot
> [] Leave someone to guard the loot (Who?)
> [] Other

File: journey2.jpg (9 KB, 271x186)

9 KB JPG

>>281128

Well, we're at that point of the night again. Guess I'll run tomorrow too. Vote, strategize, what have you in the meantime.

>>281128
>[] Load the injured onto a cart, make the others walk. Leave the loot
Maybe offer them a quick knife to the throat, instead of the hangman's noose that's waiting for them?

>>281128
> [] Load the injured onto a cart, make the others walk. Leave the loot.
If someone comes by whos able to cart all that shit away before we get back, then they shouldnt be too hard to track down.
The only thing I'd really consider important enough to take right now would be those maps.

>>281128
>> [] Load the injured onto a cart, make the others walk. Leave the loot

File: the end.jpg (60 KB, 800x430)

60 KB JPG

>>281128

Moving outside, just to be sure, you move along to the prone forms. An arrow in one knee, another through a man's stomach, and the final one seemingly pinning a woman's shoulder to a set of rocks. Upon seeing you come out of the entryway, Galblassa realizes the battle must be one and begins making his way down the slopes toward you, bringing his horse with him.

"One of the bastards got away," he owns up by way of greeting, an unwelcome but not unexpected snippet as you apply the remaining restraints on the bloodletted bandits outside.

"We'll have to deal with that later," you say. "Right now, the important part is to get these men ready for transport to the nearest town."

"Don't see much of a point, really," Galblassa huffs. "After all, most of 'em are just bound for the hangman's noose anyway."

You think about that for a moment, and it gives you pause. All that effort to take them alive just to send them off to die elsewhere. It leaves an unsettling feeling in the place your guts used to be.

"And that's assuming their crimes don't merit worse," the towering lizard adds. "Drawn by horses, death by crushing, and that's assuming they haven't pissed off any merchants or nobles who can 'persuade' the judges on their behalf. Human 'justice' can get downright ugly."

-Cont

File: 200px-HeadmansAxe.png (11 KB, 200x200)

11 KB PNG

>>283409

"And that's why I plan on offerin' these lads a choice," Father Michael says, making his way with the assembled masses behind him before stopping short and raising his voice to address the masses. "Now, the lot of ye know ye've done wrong: that ye've hurt people, stolen, lied, and cheated rather than earnin' yer daily bread. All the things the gods abhore ye've heeped upon yerselves, marinatin' in yer own sins. All this, ye've done while knowin' judgment comes for all wicked deeds, in this life or the next. Ye knew this day would come, even if not so soon, what would be waitin' for ye at the end."

You can see several faces pale as the pasteur continues, some shedding tears and shaking in their countenances, others throwing up the odd cry for mercy that goes unheard as he continues.

"Now, for those of you who feel yar sins weigh light upon ye, the law awaits not a day's march from here. However, I am no man of the law. I care not for some powdery prick with a fat ass and a puny hammer makin' ye dance for his amusement before ye die. The gods know best how to judge the wickedness of men, and if ye feel ye'll fair better in their mercy than in the hands of yar fellow men, I'll send ye to 'em painless as I can. I ask only that ye confess yar sins, that ye'll have not to weigh you down on yar way to 'em."

The world is silent for those few moments as the last echoes of Michael's proclamation go up. Nobody speaks, nobody moves, that is until finally a trio of shaken voices rise up amidst the silence: one of the men you'd knocked out earlier, the one with the shattered knee, and one of the one's who'd fled back into the tunnels. Through trembling words they offer their desire for absolution.

"Very well," Michael says, "Then let's begin."

It's difficult to measure the time in dead men's words. A second, an hour, a part of you doesn't want to think about time, doesn't even want to think as time flows on and the sun grows high in the sky. The words are for Father Michael alone, but you can still hear the tears, the fear of what's to come. At least two of them seem to be in the full bloom of adulthood, with so much of their lives that might have been left ahead of them had they chosen a different path. However, it was too late for that now.

"For the crimes of murder, rape, pillagin'..." The list goes on and on, seemingly without end. "And tax evasion, I hereby sentence the lot of ye to death. May the gods have mercy on yar souls."

And from there, the act is swift. Heads on impromptu stone chopping blocks roll in short order with one strong swipe of the axe apiece before rolling on the hard dirt, the red of their life's blood staining the earth and stones that had sheltered their acts of infamy for god knows how long.

Oh. Maybe we should taken off our helmet and told them "Now, let me tell you. I've been to that other Shore. I've been past the Veil. There IS something past death in this life.
"And as you can see, sometimes you can get called back. Though if you get a good ending, it's honestly better on the other side.
"If you can get absolution for your sins and get raised back up to a neutral afterlife, it beats the alternatives down below."

File: dungeon.jpg (36 KB, 500x375)

36 KB JPG

>>283450

"Well, glad that's over," Michael says with a sigh, that characteristic smile of his giving way to something far more vulnerable before he can plaster the cheshire grin firmly back on his face. "Now, let's get the rest of these bastards movin'. Reckon we'll bury the others after the crows have had their fill. Gotta keep with tradition an' all."

In the end, five people find themselves in one cart, crammed as tight as you can fit them, with the other three draped over your respective horses like saddlebags. With the ruffians thus thoroughly secured, you find yourself swiftly on your way. You all agree to keep one member of the leadership close, for fear of what they may do unattended. However, it takes a surprisingly minimum of brute force in the end to keep them in line.

The sun is already setting as you reach the town of Riven some hours later, the bandits alert in their bondage as you round past the gate house and straight to the prison yards beyond.

"Well, I'll be!" exclaims a barrel chested, bright-faced man as you draw near, skipping the introductions as he looks at the faces of those you've brought with you. "Never dreamt of the day, I'd see Charlotte the Witch and her gang brought low! They've been pillaging our stocks and traders for months! Just about ran old man Davis out of business with his logging company."

"Aye, well it wasn't exactly easy," Michael sighs. "We've had a hell of an evenin- Oh bloody hell, I haven't slept since night before last! That'd explain the mild hallucinations!"

"Oh, err, we have beds if you're tired," the man insists. "It's the least we can do while we process your reward."

"I might take ye up on that," Michael says, "but I got the feelin' there's other things I've gotta attend to first. Lee, yar probably the most clear on all this at this point. What's next?"

> What to do?
> [] We should interrogate the prisoners
> [] We should go back for the loot
> [] You both should sleep, I'll handle it (Handle what?)
> [] Other

>>283530
>[] We should go back for the loot

>>283530
> [] You both should sleep, I'll handle it (Handle what?)
Check that the Arachne girl got here safe. Then go back for the loot.

And talk with the sorcerers about their gunpowder machine. It might be valuable enough to save them from the hangman's noose.

>>283530
>> [] We should go back for the loot
>> [] You both should sleep, I'll handle it
Also see if we can figure out where the spider girl's mom is

>>283549
>>283545
>>283530

As a note, the spider girl is presumably presently in Hastor, not Riven. To reach the bandit's base, you had to travel past where you were and south. This was simply the nearest place to offload the bandits.

>>283555

Also, QMs should remember to turn their trips back on.

>>283555
Ah, then let's just use the gold we brought to get a wagon or two and some oxen. We don't need sleep after all.

>>283555
Get a second wagon and loot the place

File: 1460495843440.jpg (79 KB, 750x1000)

79 KB JPG

>>283539
>>283549
>>283560

"I think what you need right now is rest, my dear Father, you as well, Gal. While you attend to that, I'll go back to the bandit camp and secure what I can with an additional cart and some oxen."

"Just be careful," Michael advises, "and you may want to leave the notes you got earlier with me so I can keep 'em with the ones I got from the master at arms quarters. We can start the interrogation if you take too long in gettin' back, and a little bit of readin' material oughta help with the cross examination."

"Done," you concede, tossing him your sachel sans a bit of gold for purchasing the oxen.

Now to get on that before the entire burg shuts down for the evening. With that in mind and a bounce in your step, you head off toward the manger for a fresh horse and some oxen. Unfortunately, you do so only to find the proprietor's house already closed, but with a hard knock, a fierce apology, and quite a bit more gold than you expect he's seen in months, you head off with everything your heart desired as well as a slice of pie from his Mrs.. You'll remember to give that to Gal later, but for now, you are off into the evening air.

Truth be told, your sense of direction was never that great, let alone while traveling in shadow, but with the road so fresh on your mind, you manage to pick out the trail back with only one or two slight mistakes. It isn't too long at all, before you are once more peering into the rocky abyss. However, in doing so, you are treated to a most curious site, an already laden wagon having yet another bundle of silk thrust on it by a shadowy figure.

> What do you do?
> [] Approach stealthily (4d100)
> [] Time for terror! (4d100)
> [] Approach peacefully
> [] Other

>>283652
>[] Time for terror! (4d100)

Rolled 45, 33, 69, 80 = 227 (4d100)

>>283652
>[] Time for terror! (4d100)
Approach in light armor, with a lantern.
Wheel around drunkenly as we approach. Don't answer any questions, just get close.
When the figure is within the range of the lantern's light, raise it up as if to examine their face.
Then lift up our visor and have our eye sockets burst into blue flames.
"'Ello, poppet! Ye've got an appointment Downstairs where yer mates be waiting!"

Rolled 3, 6, 9, 3 = 21 (4d10)

>>283662
Forgot to roll

>>283707
Wrong dice.

Rolled 71, 55, 4, 44 = 174 (4d100)

>>283662
>>283707
I am an idiot

File: shut_it_down_jew.jpg (658 KB, 2040x3160)

658 KB JPG

Rolled 3, 66, 18, 23 = 110 (4d100)

Roll

File: 1460497622802.jpg (464 KB, 1000x733)

464 KB JPG

>>283652
>>283693
>>283722
>>283724

*Creak*

The lantern swings with rusty candor as you swagger and stagger down the slopes in erratic measure, muttering to the moon as you draw near.

"One step, two step,
Three step, Four!
Tell me again
Who I'm looking for!"

The guard loading the cart stops and finally seem to notice you. He doesn't speak, doesn't ask questions, just aims his bow, dips his arrow in something and fires, striking you right through the chest.

"Five step, Six step
Seven and eight
Tell me now,
Are you the one mate?"

You don't stop for a second as you lumber toward him, even as another arrow plinks your shoulder.

"Who the fuck are you?" he demands, piercing into your hollow stomach.

"Who am I
Who am I
Do you hear this guy?"

"Let me hear
Speak it clear
If it's him just say aye"

"AYE!" chant the ghostly apparations you summon behind you, three headless corpses in the pale moonlight.

The man's eyes bulge as you will the illusion of a beshadowed human face away, tearing the phantasmal cloth with your hand to reveal the skull beneath.

"Well, you heard 'em poppet! Ye've got an appointment Downstairs-"

"Hey!" another man comes storming out from inside the bandit's base, mace in hand.

"Make that for two!"

> What to do?
> [] Continue trying to terrify [3d100]
> [] Fight [4d100}
> [] Other

Rolled 8, 60, 2, 91 = 161 (4d100)

>>283834
>[] Fight [4d100}
Take out the one with the mace, first.
Bludgeoning damage is our weakness.

Rolled 2, 26, 29, 24 = 81 (4d100)

>>283834
>> [] Fight [4d100}

Rolled 4, 12, 82, 68 = 166 (4d100)

>>283834
>[] Fight [4d100}

File: 8ccc040da87300b480e0ca883(...).jpg (7 KB, 236x196)

7 KB JPG

>>283834

"J-Jared, he's not..." mumbles the shaken man, dropping his weapon before you snap him in the face with a hard left infused with divine power.

"Now, now, poppet," you admonish, "Ain't no need to spoil the surprise!"

In a flash, your eye sockets erupt in roaring blue flames, boaring into the other man's retinas as you bear down on him with all the menace you can muster. You can see the fear in his eyes, practically feel the sweat dripping from his pores, but he still manages to get his footing and his wits about him enough to swat at you with his mace. Unfortunately for him, you're ready for him, a fact you demonstrate as you parry it aside and sink a series of punches into his face. With a gurgle of blood, he goes down with his friend, but something tells you there are others further within.

> What to do?
> [] Secure the unconscious bandits
> [] Go after the remaining members
> [] Other

>>283904
>> [X] Go after the remaining members
Let's hope its just mooks

>>283904
>[] Secure the unconscious bandits
Then
> [] Go after the remaining members

>>283930
>>283928

Gonna need a tie breaker here.

>>283993
Go aftet

File: mage's room.jpg (148 KB, 1200x675)

148 KB JPG

>>283904

You look at the downed bandits, then back into the cave. The longer you wait here the higher the chance something goes awry further in. So, with little else you can do, you simply take a quick slash at the reigns tying their own mounts to the silk cart and head inside.

The barracks is empty and the halls are quiet now, no light peaking out of the entrance at the far end. That means that if there were anybody here, it would have to be in the leadership's quarters or in the dungeon. Of the two, you can guess the more likely target.

And as you draw near, it seems your intuition has not lead you astray. You can hear the sounds of papers being thrown and glass being broken in the mage's quarters at the end of the hall with what looks to be a glistening trail of oil running toward you and into the other two similarly thrashed living spaces that come before it, piles of combustible furnishings heaped together and ripe for a pyre.

From here you can pick out two sets of footsteps at the least, and judging by their lack of rhythm change at your approach, they likely haven't heard you over their self-made commotion.

> What do you do?
> [] Try to take them out quickly before they destroy anything else
> [] Try to terrify them into submission
> [] Other

>>284100
>>283928
>>283930
>>284011

Give me 4d100, either way.

Rolled 7, 25, 58, 63 = 153 (4d100)

>>284100
>> [] Try to take them out quickly before they destroy anything else

Rolled 44, 89, 37, 57 = 227 (4d100)

>>284100
>[] Try to take them out quickly before they destroy anything else
Quick and dirty. Kill them as quickly as possible.
They're all headed for the hangman's noose, no need to try to take them alive.

And they likely broke the device that could have broken the Alchemist Guild's monopoly on gunpowder. For that alone, they all deserve to burn.

Rolled 87, 4, 12, 26 = 129 (4d100)

>>284100
> [] Try to take them out quickly before they destroy anything else

File: ccdc0638479be8cba9dc34f5b(...).jpg (67 KB, 736x1291)

67 KB JPG

>>284100

A hangman's noose or your sword, you remind yourself that it makes no difference. Their allies tried to kill you on your way in here, and they'll probably do the same if you don't take the upperhand while you can. With that in mind, you steel your nerves, infuse your bones with a bit of magic and whip around the corner in a blur.

A man, tall and bulky, catches your eye right away, hands full of a book he's in the process of tearing in half, no doubt in preparation for throwing toward the pyre in the center of the room. To his credit, he manages to dodge your first swing, even draw a dagger and prepare for a counterattack, but your attacks are heavy and impossibly swift, not to mention delivered from a far more advantageous angle as you slash once, twice, each time drawing blood. Still, call it habit, but you find your blade landing flat on the last blow, knocking the man out cold before you turn to his ally... who is now holding a torch in one hand uncomfortably close to the black powder apparatus.

"Drop it!" she demands, a pale elf in black leathers. "Or this whole place burns!"

> What to do? [3d100 either way]
> [] Try to talk her down (How?)
> [] Take her out before she can send the whole place up in flames
> [] Other

Rolled 66, 41, 75 = 182 (3d100)

>>284399
>[] Take her out before she can send the whole place up in flames
>[x] Other: Raise our visor and show our skeletal visage
"Or what, meatbag? Kill yourself? Because I'm already dead."

Rolled 75, 91, 52 = 218 (3d100)

>>284399
>> [] Try to talk her down (How?)
If she tries she will burn with it but we won't, so try to intimidate I suppose

Rolled 73, 80, 29 = 182 (3d100)

>>284399
> [] Try to talk her down (How?)
"I'll remain, you wont. Im a lot less squishy."
and challenge her to a one on one duel, she wont get a fairer chance then that.

>>284496
>she wont get a fairer chance then that.
Actually let her go?

Rolled 58, 45, 63 = 166 (3d100)

>>284399
> What to do? [3d100 either way]

>> [] Try to talk her down (How?)
Seduction.

File: journals.jpg (11 KB, 400x400)

11 KB JPG

>>284399

"Come now," you admonish. "And burn yourself along with it?"

"No, just you," she assures you, waving the torch menacingly.

"And your ally?" you question calmly.

"He knew the risks!"

"So, you would burn so much of value down to the ground and kill your companion for what? In an attempt to kill me? My dear, I fear, you are a couple of decades too late for that." With a turn of your wrist, you lift up your visor, getting only a slight change in expression in return. "Now can we talk this out like reasonable folks, or do I need to get violent?"

You see her flinch for just a moment before she regains her composure, tipping the torch back before turning to you.

"Now what precisely do you want?" You ask her. "Our goals may not be so dissimilar."

"I've got orders to clean this place out," she admits, "Nothing more, nothing less. We aren't even criminals so far as the law is concerned."

"Clear it out?" you question, the pieces finally clicking into place. "Ah, I see, trying to bury evidence on behalf of a client, then." Another flinch, an affirmation. "However, I imagine you weren't able to find what you were looking for in the process to really bury it deep: private records, journals, letters and written accounts. For good reason, I suppose, as I procured all of those items earlier in my first forray."

"Damn it," she hisses, looking at you with hatred in her eyes. "How much?"

"Come again," you implore.

"How much for you to do my job for me?" she demands, tightening her grip on the torch.

> Your response?

>>284598
"Oh, no. Now you've piqued my curiosity, and for that, I'll need more than just gold and silver to sate. You think paltry baubles and base metals can satisfy my appetites?
"No, girl, it'll cost you quite a bit more than just material goods.
"So, the question isn't how much I want; it's how much can you afford."

>>284598
Ask her for a good song and a riddle.

>>284643
I'm voting for it just to see her face.

File: notes.jpg (32 KB, 635x357)

32 KB JPG

>>284598
>>284643
>>284647

"Well, you can never go wrong with a good song and a riddle."

"Wait, what?" she demands, perhaps the most disturbed you've seen her yet.

"A song and a riddle, if you please, and I'll take care of the evidence as soon as I get back."

"This isn't a joke!" she shouts, stamping her foot for emphasis. "The sort of people I work for will have me flayed as an example, or maybe they'll put me in a box below a river bed and let the rats eat me alive!"

"Well, those do seem to be some fairly terrible occupational hazards. Have you considered switching employers?"

"Are you propositioning me?"

> Are you?
> [] Yes
> [] No
> [] Other

>>284709
>> [] Yes
She seem competent enough.
Also, next time ask for a joke too.

She obviously thought we weren't asking enough.

I mean, we're a bard for sake, songs are worth more than gold to a bard.

>>284709
>[] Yes
"I mean, why would you stick with an employer that would torture you to death for making a mistake or failing in your mission, no matter how much it wasn't your fault? The pay? Let's be realistic here; pay is no good if you're dead. I should know, I've been there, and let me tell you, money will do you no good on the other side."

>>284721
I think she thinks we're a fighter, not a bard.
Armor and all, you know.
And the lack of a silver tongue, and what bards have downstairs, if you know what I mean.

>>284726
Do you mean a lute? We're missing a lute downstair?

>>284731
We obviously don't have it in our hands, now do we?

File: journey.jpg (6.27 MB, 2716x1810)

6.27 MB JPG

>>284709


"Are you open to being propositioned?" you fire back. "I mean, not that I wouldn't understand. Sticking with an employer that would torture or kill you for failing a mission seems sort of... pointless. The pay's no good if you aren't alive to spend it, and trust me, it won't do you any good on the other side. Just want to make sure we are on the same page is all."

"A quarter," she finally answers after much internal deliberation.

"Pardon?"

"I want a quarter of everything that we're pulling out of this dump if I'm gonna stick my neck out for you, plus an even share of all future proceeds!"

"And in exchange..."

"You leave Bo and the rest alive and breathing," she finishes, "and in exchange, I'm yours. I'm not going to warm your bed for you, but I've got some skill with a blade, stealth, and locks, arrows too if you want to play to stereotypes."

"Not so fond of those," you admit, "though I did enjoy a warm bed back in the day. Even so, alas and alack, at my age, I fear I wouldn't be too lively in the sack."

*Rattle-Rattle*

"Did you just-"

"You'll get used to it," you assure her, "and the rest of our band of misfits besides once we get back in town."

"Dear lord, what am I getting myself into?" she moans.

"An adventure, my dear..."

"Lucillia, Lucy for short, and you are?"

"Lee Townsend: bard, lover, fighter, and occasional spirit of vengeance. Now then, let's be on our way, shall we?"

--

It takes less time than you would think bundling the more valuable goods into the ox cart at your disposal. A bit of apothecary knowledge on the part of your now-friendly rogue buys you even more time as a measured dose of sedative puts each downed man further under. In the end, it proves enough time to gather what you need and be well on your way before there's any sign of their stirring, a single cart piled high with silk and gold, books, and magical equipment (including some things formerly nailed to the floor) now being tugged along by your uncomplaining beasts of burden.

A curious choice on the part of your companion sees the other cart left behind and in good condition, her own presumed share along with it as you pull away.

"They'll need it more than I will."

And that's all she was willing to say on the matter before you were both well on your way into the coming dawn, on to the next leg of your now shared adventure and whatever came next.

File: skeleton_zen.jpg (119 KB, 1300x1227)

119 KB JPG

>>284870

And I think that's where we'll end it for the week, folks. Hope you all had fun, and thanks for participating.

Keep an eye on twitter for future announcements about the game, and feel free to pitch times here or there about what times work best for people. Also, thoughts on what board we should run this quest on. Either way, I was extremely happy with how things picked up today, and am looking forward to next time.

>>284883
I'm for sticking with /qst/ for now.
The longer time it takes for autosage is nice, and works with our playerbase which can't always schedule one big block of time to play in.

And picking up Lucy was a great outcome!
Now we have our straight man/woman for our comedy routines!
Yes, doing stand-up comedy is a bit beneath an accomplished bard like Lee, but you gotta start somewhere when your reputations 20 years out of date.

File: 1460500994107.jpg (285 KB, 1800x1341)

285 KB JPG

>>284883

Also, I suppose it's worth asking what people think about the progression system in the game right now. RE: standard is that the monsters evolve and grow to new tiers as they gain experience, but Lee has basically just been picking up items and experience in applying his magic that have made him stronger one step at a time. Would you guys eventually like to evolve?

>>284999
I dunno. Getting XP towards Jobs might be good, but we're not exactly human anymore so Evolutions might be better.

Would we be on the Skeleton evolution tree or a Construct evolution tree, or some kind of combination of the two?

>>285074

Right now, Lee is essentially a revenant that has bound itself to a rather basic golem. Not sure how canon or lore friendly this is to the greater RE: Universe, but I imagine that constructs (as beings without innate free will which were designed by wizards) typically don't have the capacity to evolve from their experiences into newer, more powerful forms.

However, golems can be upgraded or upgrade themselves if they have the mental capacity. By fueling them with better magical energy sources, reinforcing or replacing their limbs, or creating more complex and efficient channels for that energy, you can make a stronger golem (provided you have the skill).

Revenants, on the other hand, can evolve in a number of different ways, either by strengthening their connection to the physical world or becoming more adept in the use of magic.

>>285105
>>285074

However, in general, I don't feel that I will place too many limits on what can be obtained through a Rank-Up system or what can be learned through Jobs. Effort placed into learning a skill will pay dividends in compelling ways. It is simply whether the players want a sudden rush where they are basically presented a bunch of new options, or if they want to more naturally progress through a tree of options to reach a fixed end.

As an example, Lee is basically a spirit piggybacking on a golem's power source, controlling it sort of like a vehicle. With enough practice, he could eventually learn to astrally project himself from his body and roam around in spirit form.

This could either come about as a result of manifesting his spirit over and over again and personal experimentation in taking the discipline further. Or, it could come about by the players picking an evolution path that just so happened to enable that ability, among others.

So, it comes down to whether you want to progress things slowly, learning new skills ala carte (which gives you maximum versatility) or occasionally get a grab bag with abilities that may be complimentary to the ones you've been working on, even if you didn't necessarily know those abilities could have otherwise been obtained.

I dont know, as much as I sort of enjoy the standard RE:___ Evolution system, it would make sense For Lee to be sort of a nonstandard case.

Of the two, I think, options presented, I think I like the version that lets us pick up skills as we go.

File: 1460496427115.jpg (127 KB, 636x960)

127 KB JPG

>>285312

I think the best advice I can offer in this case is to be inventive and try new things. Like Lee's detachable hand trick, there's a lot of unique synergies that spring from the particular nature of his existence you can exploit with enough practice.

>>285312
I like that option too.

As someone who has read most, if not all, RE: X quests I will say that the evolutions allways reflect the skills learned in some ways.

>>286830

Of course. However, let's take Lyra from RE: EX as an example.

She had an evolution which enabled her to bend earth and fire. She then picked up blacksmithing as a hobby. Let's say, however, in a hypothetical universe she never actively learned how to meld those disciplines by bending metal directly. In this case, as I see it, she still might have picked up the hybridization of those skills by qualifying for the evolution track that enhanced metal bending.

In my mind, evolutions simply connect the dots and loose ends, offering the occasional rounding out and up of a monster's present potential. It doesn't really matter, because people seem content to play it by ear and flesh out their abilities one step at a time. However, keep in mind that that leaves it up to you in a significant way to connect your own dots and create new disciplines out of ones you already have.

You might be able to make hard illusions, enhance your blade and armor with spirit energy, pull yourself up from a pile of bones in a pinch, or just learn how to channel your mana more efficiently to extend the duration you can fight. All things are possible with experimentation and practice.