>>535032
Chapter One: A Town Called Sacrament

The night is silent, interrupted only by the raucous squeaking of the handcart as it rattles slowly down the track. It’s a harsh sound, almost a screech and once upon a time you would have called out for oil to be set out or for new wheels to be set into place. But those were better days and for now, these are all the wheels you have. As for oil? You could have laughed.

Also conspicuously absent tonight are the people you would have called all this out to in the first place. You are alone, bereft of companionship and most importantly, bereft of someone else to pump this bloody cart for you.

You permit yourself a small wheeze as you work the pump in the centre of the trolley and propel it just a little further along the tracks. Long gone are the brilliant silver rails that you had been travelling on just the day before, these new tracks are a dull gray and barely shine at all when your little circle of lamplight in the dark passes over them. The tracks beneath you are periodically tethered to stony plinths elevated from the barren ground and as a result the entire rail is nearly a foot above the ground. Angular runes of safety, compliance and protection have been stamped into every inch of the metal and your suspicions that this is a Third Age line are confirmed.
Not that that means much to you. You’re pretty sure nobody makes them anymore.

The moon is cracked tonight and a dull brownish-red. The stars are out but only in the dozens and the constellations here are new and strange to you. The land around the rail is rough and rocky, stony hills rising and falling in all directions and as far as you can tell, barren. Empty of all life save for moss and lichen and queer pale grass that doesn’t need light to live. You know of none of them but their thriving in the dark tells you that these are inimical plants and not worth eating. You will have to subsist on your rations from the last town for a few days more.

Aside from the little circle of illumination that the candle-lantern hooked to the side of the handcart, all is dark. All is dreary. And when the sun rises none of that will change. You are journeying through the twilight of the world.

It’s enough to make a man morose if he isn’t careful and God knows there’s enough of that already.

It is then however, that the silence, or at least the screeching and rattling that you’d come to accept as silence, is broken. A shrill cry in the distance and...there! Off behind that jagged hill, a spark of light! Not pale light or half-light, honest yellow burning light! But just a spark however and it winks out as quickly as it came. You wait for a moment and hear no more cries.

1/2

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>>535038
Surely it is worth investigating. That cry sounded distressed and whoever it was, their light had been woefully brief. Whoever is it out there is no doubt in trouble. But...the spark was far from you, over the hill and most importantly, far from the rail. You’d have to set foot on poisoned earth and invite any number of dangers. And you’ve fallen for these tricks before. Gremlins and imps and other beasts of the dark can mimic human calls. But surely none of them could hold a flame?
Stuck in an ambush away from the rail it could be far too easy for you to die. You have a duty to uphold and you cannot afford to come to harm before it is finished.


>Let the cart stop and wait for another sound or spark. Observe.

>Keep on pumping, it is best for you to simply continue alone.

>Since when are you afraid of the dark? If there’s a person out there, you need to save him.

>Call out and wait. It is better to be wise then dead.

>Other

>>535043
>Since when are you afraid of the dark? If there’s a person out there, you need to save him.
Yo Ouro! Good to have you back man.

>>535043
>Call out and wait. It is better to be wise then dead.

>>535043
>Since when are you afraid of the dark? If there’s a person out there, you need to save him.
Yo Ouro whats good

>>535043
>>Let the cart stop and wait for another sound or spark. Observe.
ay

>>535065
Seconding

>Call out and wait. It is better to be wise then dead.

>>535043
>>Call out and wait. It is better to be wise then dead.

>>535043
>Since when are you afraid of the dark? If there’s a person out there, you need to save him.

>>535043
>Since when are you afraid of the dark? If there’s a person out there, you need to save him.

Calling for saving.

>>535043
>Since when are you afraid of the dark? If there’s a person out there, you need to save it.

>>535043
>Call out and wait. It is better to be wise then dead.

>Since when are you afraid of the dark? If there’s a person out there, you need to save him.

Enough cowardice! Are you not a Lamplighter? That title may have fallen into ill-repute as of late but you remember what it used to stand for. It was given to you to bring light into darkness and though the light grows dimmer every day you’ll not forsake that promise. You have yet to lose your way.

That said, going into this rashly really will be suicide. You best be properly prepared first. You find your helmet from where it had been rolling around within the trolley and pull it over your head. You’re already wearing the rest of your plate, dimming runes of strength,flexibility and weight making it easy to wear in any situation.

And you do not lack for weapons, even now. Buried beneath your small pack of rations is your trusty wick, a firebrand attached to a long pole. It is both your badge of office and a capable weapon against beasts of the dark once lit. But you can’t expend it willy-nilly.

Beside it is...well, that’s complicated. A long pole-shape wrapped up tightly in dirty cloth, it is what gives your light and flame strength. You can swing it with a good amount of force too! But that tool is even more precious than your wick and to lose it will be to lose everything.

Fortunately you have other arms available.


>A short sword, wrapped in runes of durability and edge. It is flammable and can be set aflame.

>A long wooden stave. It is not runed and will likely never be so but sometimes keeping enemies at arms-length is a magic all on its own. Can also be set aflame in a pinch.

>A large revolver. Stronger than either, a natural weapon of flame and light. But not only is powder scarce, it is getting ever harder to light it...

>>535136
>>A short sword, wrapped in runes of durability and edge. It is flammable and can be set aflame.

>>535136
>>A short sword, wrapped in runes of durability and edge. It is flammable and can be set aflame.

>>535136
>A long wooden stave. It is not runed and will likely never be so but sometimes keeping enemies at arms-length is a magic all on its own. Can also be set aflame in a pinch.

The choice of man and FFT Oracles.

>>535136
>A short sword, wrapped in runes of durability and edge. It is flammable and can be set aflame.

>>535136
>>A short sword, wrapped in runes of durability and edge. It is flammable and can be set aflame.

>>535136
>A long wooden stave. It is not runed and will likely never be so but sometimes keeping enemies at arms-length is a magic all on its own. Can also be set aflame in a pinch.

>>535136
>>A short sword, wrapped in runes of durability and edge. It is flammable and can be set aflame.

>>535136

>A long wooden stave. It is not runed and will likely never be so but sometimes keeping enemies at arms-length is a magic all on its own. Can also be set aflame in a pinch.

>>535136
>A long wooden stave. It is not runed and will likely never be so but sometimes keeping enemies at arms-length is a magic all on its own. Can also be set aflame in a pinch.

>>535136
A short sword.

>>535136
>>A long wooden stave. It is not runed and will likely never be so but sometimes keeping enemies at arms-length is a magic all on its own. Can also be set aflame in a pinch.

>>535136
>>A long wooden stave. It is not runed and will likely never be so but sometimes keeping enemies at arms-length is a magic all on its own. Can also be set aflame in a pinch.

>A long wooden stave. It is not runed and will likely never be so but sometimes keeping enemies at arms-length is a magic all on its own. Can also be set aflame in a pinch.

>>A long wooden stave. It is not runed and will likely never be so but sometimes keeping enemies at arms-length is a magic all on its own. Can also be set aflame in a pinch.


You grab your trusty stave from where it had been leaning in the corner of the trolley. It isn't runed but it's still a solid piece of wood with both ends capped in steel. Anything you can't hurt with this is probably immune to blades anyway.
You had a runesword once but those days are long past and staves, unlike such swords, are easy enough to replace.

You throw on your coat, hanging it over your armour as you lift yourself out of the handcart and set both feet upon the ground at once. It is firm beneath you, no trembles, no tremors. It is safe.

You unhook the small lantern from your cart and hang it upon your breastplate to light your way. The flame isn't very strong but it should serve as a wick in a pinch.

Speaking of, perhaps you should bring your wick and other tools with you? If this is an ambush you'd rather not leave them behind to be stolen. And you could use the fire magic.

You hear another scream from behind the hill, this one drawn-out and long. You'll have to worry about the wick later!

You abandon the cart and run up the hillside as best you can, scrabbling through the broken stone as it threatens to give way beneath you. You make a little more noise then you'd like.

You crest the top of the hill and by crimson moonlight, behold a massacre. Down at the foot of the hills in the little valley running between them, an overturned wagon lies broken.
A wagon? What a terrible idea!

You'd say that anyone foolish enough to stray off the concrete plains with a wagon deserves everything coming to them but looking down upon the scene, you turn that thought aside.
Nobody deserves this.

A man and a woman lie scattered down the hillside, taken apart limb from limb. Arms taken from shoulders, fingers separated from hands, bodies expertly chopped and spread apart.

And down beyond them, a whimpering child crouches behind the wagon, scratching at flint and tinder helplessly as dark figures surround him. You can't make them out quite well enough but they are humanoid and hunched over and their fingers, three times as long as normal, are bony serrated blades.

You've seen that silhouette before and to confirm it, you kneel for a moment and inspect the severed limb by your feet.
It's still moving, dragging itself slowly inch by inch. You have no doubt that if you could find the head it would still be capable of speech, the eyes capable of movement.

Ghouls. And they're on a recruitment drive too.

They haven't seen you or your lantern yet, their eyes fixed upon the boy. You'll not be having that.


>Charge down the hillside and shout a warcry to divert their attention from the child.

>Set your stave aflame.

>Call out to get their attention and try to lead them away.

>Throw the lantern at them and ignite it.

>Other

>>535240
>>Charge down the hillside and shout a warcry to divert their attention from the child.

>>535240
>Charge down the hillside and shout a warcry to divert their attention from the child.

>>535240
>Set your stave aflame.
>Charge down the hillside and shout a warcry to divert their attention from the child.

>>535240
>Set your stave aflame.

>>535240
> Try to sneak close enough and light the wagon on fire.

>>535240
>>Set your stave aflame.
lets find out how fire works

>>535240
>Set your stave aflame.

>>535240
>Unleash hidden karate powers upon the foul beasts

>>535240
>Set your stave aflame.

>>535240
> set your stave aflame
> charge
Bring the light, praise the Sun!

>>535240
>Set your stave aflame.
>Throw the lantern at them and ignite it.
>Other
Set as much as possible on fire

>>535240
>Set your stave aflame.
Yo ouro where the waifus at

>>535341
Inside your heart anon

I'll be taking both votes at once.

>Set your stave aflame.
>Charge down the hillside and shout a warcry to divert their attention from the child.

You’re already moving before you finish thinking, your legs outpacing your mind as you hurl yourself down the rocky slope. Fragile stone breaks and crumbles beneath your feet as a landslide in miniature builds around you. The ghouls look up before you even say anything, their mismatched eyes goggling. Good. If they think this is something special, they’ll really like what’s coming.

“Ghooooooooouls!”, you holler. “Your time has co-oh-ah-woah!”
One of the stones skids badly beneath your feet and your warcry is ruined. Not that it matters. They should understand this all too well.
You tear the lantern from where it had been hooked to your chest and draw upon the light and flame and heat within. It’s no proper wick but it’ll do for this.

Wick: ½

Flame dances along your hand up your arm, passing over you with only the faintest touch of heat. It leaps from you to the tip of your staff and dances atop the metal capping it for just a moment. And then it seems to dissipate without effect.

The ghouls shake themselves from their trance and you can hear choked laughter from one of them. They peel away from the boy and skitter towards you, eager to take apart a Lamplighter so hopeless that he couldn’t even grasp a flame properly.

You swing your stave at the first one that leaps at you and he grabs hold of it with a sound of contempt, attempting to wrest it from your hands and throw it aside. And it is at that moment that the staff bursts into righteous fire. He wails as the flame sears his hands and eats him away, his entire body melting and deforming as if he were but wax.
You push him off your stave and leave him to melt while you swing the burning staff around in a wide circle, smashing another ghoul in the face and rapping a third on the knuckles. The ghouls fall back, one of them with a still-burning hole going straight through his face and another with nothing but a cindered stump where his hand used to be.

“Learning how to hide or delay a flame is something they used to teach apprentices,” you say, desperate to keep their attention on you. At the same time you lock eyes with the child behind the wagon and bob your head, trying to get him to run. He doesn’t need the invitation.

The other three ghouls back away a step, each one pacing around you with the ease of a practiced predator. The moment you swing at one the other two will rush in. And what’s worse, your staff is already beginning to burn low. You remember when it would have lasted for hours.


>Stay defensive for now and when you’re sure the kid is free, run back to the rail.

>Stay defensive but don’t run. You’ll be accounting for each and every one of these monsters.

>Stay on the offensive! Charge!

>Explode your lantern.

>Try to scare the ghouls off.

>Other

>>535364
>>Stay defensive for now and when you’re sure the kid is free, run back to the rail.

>>535364
>Stay defensive for now and when you’re sure the kid is free, run back to the rail.

>>535364
>Stay defensive but don’t run. You’ll be accounting for each and every one of these monsters.

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>>535364
>mfw I see that 1 / 2 gets turned into the half symbol.

>>535341
Better get used to polishing the wick

>>535364
>Explode your lantern.
Throw the lantern grenade

>Stay on the offensive! Charge!

>>535364
>Stay defensive for now and when you’re sure the kid is free, run back to the rail.

>>535364
>Stay on the offensive! Charge!

Don't let the kid run on it's own. We are in the middle of a wasteland here.

>>535364
>Stay defensive for now and when you’re sure the kid is free, run back to the rail.
Then
>Explode your lantern.

>>535384
Changing to
>Stay on the offensive! Charge!
Then
>Explode your lantern.
When they counterattack

Rolled 5 (1d6)

Looks like a tie between staying on the offensive or delaying until the kid is free and then running. Evens the former, odds the latter.

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>Stay defensive for now and when you’re sure the kid is free, run back to the rail.

You take a step backwards and do your best to keep them from surrounding you completely. Yes, you might be armoured but the claws of a ghoul will sink through that with a bit of effort and while light and flame ward them away, both resources are in short supply. For now the circle of flickering light created by your burning stave and the dimming lantern by your chest is keeping them away but all it takes is for one of them to be brave and the others two will pile on too.
Maybe if you had just kept on going, rushing forward and keeping them off-balance but... no. The moment for that is passed.

But as best you try to watch the ghouls, you keep one eye on the child as well. He’s trying to keep quiet as he moves so he still has his head clear and he’s making his way around the wagon and back up the hill from whence you came. Good lad.

A fat and long tongue oozes from the teeth of one of the ghouls like a bloated slug, the organ not quite small enough for the creature’s mouth. You’ll have to watch for that, their saliva is poison. And now that they are all in the light, so to speak, you can get a much better look at them then you’d really like.

Their bodies are patch-work, limbs and pieces sewn together in a haphazard fashion. Some of them have even been working beyond that, extra eyes and noses dotting their bodies in unlikely places. A few of them have taken wounds, no doubt from the man and the woman. And as you spy the glinting teeth emerging from the sides of the long cuts and the saliva beginning to weep from them, you’d wish they hadn’t. Every cut made into a ghoul is just another mouth.
They’ll have to be smashed or burned.

And then, for but a single moment the ghoul behind you paces just barely out of your sight. You spin, your burning staff ready as he lunges! You catch his claws with the stave, denting and igniting them as you push the monster back and you let yourself keep spinning, the momentum carrying you back around to face the other two ghouls.
They’re already mid-leap.

>Roll 1d6. I will be using the combined totals of the first three rolls.

Rolled 6 (1d6)

>>535512

Rolled 5 (1d6)

>>535512
>>535525
Nice. Here's a 1

Rolled 1 (1d6)

>>535512

>>535531
>>535532
I got your back bro

>6, 5, 1
Not bad! Sorry about dragging my feet with these update speeds by the way, shaking off some rust.

>>535550
You always say that and your updates are always written way faster than the average quest

>>535512
huh, cut them and the cut turns into a mouth , that's an interesting take on ghouls, wonder what other weird shits out in the dark.

>>535032
Good to have you back Ouro.

>>535550
Faster than Soma :^)
Not that that's saying much.

>6, 5, 1

Your staff is already moving with you as you use the force of your spin to carry the stave right into the ghoul's chest. He screams as the flame cuts through him like butter and your stave continues through the now bisected ghoul to strike at the other.
This one is a little more canny however. He doesn't land a strike on you but he ducks beneath your swing and before you can pull the staff back in to defend properly he springs up from his crouch to tackle you!

You barely manage to keep your footing as you hold the stave horizontally to parry both of his claws but even as the flame melts those knife-like appendages the ghoul pushes forward, slamming his body into yours. You let him push you back but not too far. You’re still burning both of his arms to stumps, what the hell does he plan to do with this?
You find out almost immediately as the monster’s suppurating belly wound opens up to reveal jagged teeth that grind and tear at your armoured side. For now all they can do is scratch it harmlessly. But if there’s teeth…

The ghoul’s belly-tongue wraps around your waist and you suddenly find yourself having a bit of a problem. The tongue is the strongest muscle a ghoul possesses and you can’t rip yourself free! And from behind you can hear the ghoul you deflected earlier stirring from where you had thrown it. This is going to get real ugly real quick.


>Lower your staff to burn through the tongue, even if that means that the ghoul will be able to lash at you with what’s left of his arms.

>Throw yourself down and try to maneuver it so that the lunging ghoul knocks into the ghoul currently latched onto you.

>Stay as you are and hope your armour can bear the brunt of the other ghoul, you need to finish disarming this fellow.

>Explode the lantern.

>Other

>>535602
>>Lower your staff to burn through the tongue, even if that means that the ghoul will be able to lash at you with what’s left of his arms.

>>535602
>Throw yourself down and try to maneuver it so that the lunging ghoul knocks into the ghoul currently latched onto you.

>>535602
>>Throw yourself down and try to maneuver it so that the lunging ghoul knocks into the ghoul currently latched onto you.

>>535602
>Throw yourself down and try to maneuver it so that the lunging ghoul knocks into the ghoul currently latched onto you.

>>535602
>Explode the lantern.
>Other
Stab the staff through the throat and attempt to cut the tongue from the base, as well as damage the innards

>>535602
> Other
Suplex the grappling ghoul into the lunging one

>>535602
>Explode the lantern.

>>535602
>>Throw yourself down and try to maneuver it so that the lunging ghoul knocks into the ghoul currently latched onto you.

>>535602
>Throw yourself down and try to maneuver it so that the lunging ghoul knocks into the ghoul currently latched onto you.

>Throw yourself down and try to maneuver it so that the lunging ghoul knocks into the ghoul currently latched onto you.

You only have a moment to think this through and that’s not enough time. So in lieu of thought you let yourself fall, the weight of the ghoul atop you carrying you down as you pivot to face the ghoul behind you. Look at me, you silently beg. I’m a falling, I’m helpless, there’s another ghoul already on me. So just do the same damn thing ghouls always do and leap!

Your prayers are answered and the attacking ghoul slams into the one grappling you, what’s left of their claws shredding through the other ghouls back and opening a dozen tiny new mouths. The tongue’s grip weakens and you let out a wordless bellow as you bring your boot up and kick both ghouls off of you. You roll before you even see them land, getting to your feet and clutching your stave to you. The lantern by your chest is miraculously unbroken but the stave has been extinguished, only a tiny twist of smoke left to tell you that it had ever been burning at all.

The light is fading and you find yourself at the mercy of the moon and the stars to provide illumination. And you’d really rather not.

The ghouls are still tearing away at one another but you likely only have moments before reason rules over bloodlust once more. You turn your back and run, your legs burning as you scrabble up the steep hill and over the other side.
The trolley and the rail are waiting for you and so is the boy, the child lying in the dirt by the side of the elevated rail.

“Come on kid, what are you waiting for?”
You pick him up and almost toss him into the handcart, climbing in beside him and getting ready to man the pump. Those ghouls have got to be hot on your heels by now.


>It’s time to cast off and get away while you still can.

>Don’t move the cart just yet, you should lure the ghouls here and exterminate them both while you still can.

>Other

>>535680
>>It’s time to cast off and get away while you still can.

>>535680
>Don’t move the cart just yet, you should lure the ghouls here and exterminate them both while you still can.
The only good ghoul is a dead ghoul

>>535680
>>It’s time to cast off and get away while you still can.

>>535680

>It’s time to cast off and get away while you still can.

>Other
Explode the lantern

>>535680
>It’s time to cast off and get away while you still can.
Later bitches.

>>535680
>>It’s time to cast off and get away while you still can.

>>535680
> run away
plz

>>535680
>It’s time to cast off and get away while you still can.

>It’s time to cast off and get away while you still can.

It's a little tight fitting you both in the small hand-car but you've been in more uncomfortable situations before. You grab hold of the pump and start pushing it down, each motion propelling the little cart further and further down the railway. You don’t let up until nearly ten minutes has passed and only then, with no intervention, ghoul or otherwise, do you relax and begin to slow your pace.

Oh, what you wouldn’t give for a proper engine! But those have been getting scarce of late and not just because the breaking of the world played foul with the means to make them. All too often you see oil simply fail to ignite, matches that lack spark, gunpowder that remains inert no matter what you do it. It’s not a severe problem for someone with your talents but the implications are chilling.

“Boy. Are you alright?”

He nods, lying straight to your face. He’s without any obvious injury but there’s something afflicting him all the same. His skin is paler than the usual light gray and he grips himself tighter then he should. It’s not that cold.

“Looks like you’ve got a bit of witch-chill, probably from lying about on the ground for so long. Didn’t your parents tell you to stay away from the earth?”
You stop just a moment too late. Why the fuck did you have to mention his parents?

However if he catches your reference to them he is un-moved. His voice is tiny, small even for a ten-year old boy.
“A-am I going to die?”

“What? No! Witch-chill isn’t anything to worry about.”
Not for him anyway. It’s more than enough for you. Witch-chill is, as the name involves, the spoor of a witch who has passed through the area. A clammy affliction that they leave upon the earth with every footstep. It can linger for a long time so if it was this alone you’d be willing to put it to coincidence but those ghouls earlier? Ghouls can’t sew themselves or at least, they’re real bad at it. Something else put those blighters together.
There’s a witch afoot.

“Where you from, boy? How did you even get out here?”

“S-sacrament,” he mumbles. “Town over on the plains.”

Well ain’t that a welcome name. You stoke the little lantern back to a proper light and as you do so, you press it against the boy’s chest for just a moment. A basic Benediction of Warmth to keep the cold at bay, not even enough to run down your Wick. It’s all he needs.
“And how exactly did you get-”

You stop, the boy reaching out to touch the emblem on your cloak. It’s a golden wheel, one with six spokes and each spoke extending just a little bit further than the rim.

“Are you a Lamplighter?”

What was his first clue? But he is small and still feeling the chill so you don’t make fun at his expense.
“In the flesh. I’m a…”

1/2

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>>535829
>A member of the Knights Sol, an order that specializes on the light-magic that is Benedictions, magic that blesses and heals. You possess basic Flame Rites, advanced Benedictions and a well-rounded training in combat.

>A member of the Order of the Wick, a Lamplighter chapter that specializes in the movement and manipulation of fire. You possess basic Benedictions, advanced Flame Rites and a well-rounded training in combat.

>A member of the Bulwark, an order devoted first and foremost to fighting evil and protecting the people. You possess basic Benedictions, basic Flame Rites and advanced combat training.

>A Witch-finder, solitary Lamplighters in a tradition founded in the beginning of the Third Age to track and hunt witches specifically. You possess basic Benedictions, basic Flame Rites and a well-rounded training in combat as well as a depth of knowledge (strictly theoretical) about witchcraft.

>A Runecarver, Lamplighters with the knowledge on how to work runes into metal and other substances if needed. You possess basic Benedictions, basic Flame Rites and a well rounded training in combat in addition to knowing five runes. Runecarving takes time and effort however.

>”...just a Lamplighter, nothing special.” You were cast out long ago. You possess basic benedictions, basic Flame Rites, a well-rounded training in combat as well as a terrible secret.

>>535832
>>A member of the Order of the Wick, a Lamplighter chapter that specializes in the movement and manipulation of fire. You possess basic Benedictions, advanced Flame Rites and a well-rounded training in combat.

>>535832
>>A member of the Order of the Wick, a Lamplighter chapter that specializes in the movement and manipulation of fire. You possess basic Benedictions, advanced Flame Rites and a well-rounded training in combat.

>>535832
>A member of the Knights Sol, an order that specializes on the light-magic that is Benedictions, magic that blesses and heals. You possess basic Flame Rites, advanced Benedictions and a well-rounded training in combat.

>>535832
>>A member of the Order of the Wick, a Lamplighter chapter that specializes in the movement and manipulation of fire. You possess basic Benedictions, advanced Flame Rites and a well-rounded training in combat.

>>535832
>A Witch-finder, solitary Lamplighters in a tradition founded in the beginning of the Third Age to track and hunt witches specifically. You possess basic Benedictions, basic Flame Rites and a well-rounded training in combat as well as a depth of knowledge (strictly theoretical) about witchcraft.

>>535832
>A Witch-finder, solitary Lamplighters in a tradition founded in the beginning of the Third Age to track and hunt witches specifically. You possess basic Benedictions, basic Flame Rites and a well-rounded training in combat as well as a depth of knowledge (strictly theoretical) about witchcraft.

>>535832
>”...just a Lamplighter, nothing special.” You were cast out long ago. You possess basic benedictions, basic Flame Rites, a well-rounded training in combat as well as a terrible secret.

>>535847
Sorry. I'm deleting.
>>535845
Changing to
>A Witch-finder, solitary Lamplighters in a tradition founded in the beginning of the Third Age to track and hunt witches specifically. You possess basic Benedictions, basic Flame Rites and a well-rounded training in combat as well as a depth of knowledge (strictly theoretical) about witchcraft.

>>535832
>A Witch-finder, solitary Lamplighters in a tradition founded in the beginning of the Third Age to track and hunt witches specifically. You possess basic Benedictions, basic Flame Rites and a well-rounded training in combat as well as a depth of knowledge (strictly theoretical) about witchcraft.
Hory shet Ouro it's been threads since we've had this many people.

Called it for witch-finders.

>>535832
>>A Runecarver, Lamplighters with the knowledge on how to work runes into metal and other substances if needed. You possess basic Benedictions, basic Flame Rites and a well rounded training in combat in addition to knowing five runes. Runecarving takes time and effort however.

>>535924
Danmit, witches sound scary!

>>535959
Who knows? He might be born from a witch and priest.

>>535924
Does our witchcraft knowledge have to stay theoretical? If our order isn't all that great now, there isn't too much reason not to fight fire with fire, pun totally intended.

>A Witch-finder, solitary Lamplighters in a tradition founded in the beginning of the Third Age to track and hunt witches specifically. You possess basic Benedictions, basic Flame Rites and a well-rounded training in combat as well as a depth of knowledge (strictly theoretical) about witchcraft.

"I'm a Witch-finder," you finish only to find that the boy has fallen asleep. You guess he wasn’t really hanging onto your every word, huh? It probably doesn’t matter. Knowledge of Lamplighters themselves has grown distorted over time, word of mouth twisting it into a thousand different stories. How could you expect him to truly grasp what being a Witch-finder means?
You aren’t just learned in their ways, you are steeped in them to a degree that other Lamplighters often would have found unsavory.

It was once common practice to avert your eyes from a witch’s castings to avoid seeing the names they use or to risk having one burned into your mind. But not you! You know enough about them and their craft that people could have once accused you of being one yourself. But that is nonsense. You loathe witches. You don’t understand what makes them what they are or why they wreak such havoc but you know more than enough to hate every aspect of them. Was it not they who first invited darkness back into the world at the end of the Second Age?
You don’t know for certain who is behind the world’s current predicament but you wouldn’t be surprised if a witch was involved either.

A witch is a breed apart from the other creatures of the dark and not merely in terms of power. Gremlins and ghouls, imps and duskwalkers, all the other blighted things that lurk beneath the ground, at least they were born as they were. But every witch was once a human, one of the Sons and Daughters of Light and they had all made the willful choice to turn away from that. To turn their backs to sky and flame and throw themselves in with the dread powers of earth. To become harlot-brides of dead and rotting gods.
Yes, you know their symbols and their names but you would never become one of them.

That is what you say anyway. To tell the truth, your ire springs also from something more personal.

You keep working the pump and hours slowly pass as the trolley makes its way across the rails, a few of the tracks groaning just a little in places where their stone plinths keeping them above the ground had been eroded or destroyed. The landscape slowly begins to level out and flatten, stony hills falling away in favour of a long plain of dead and dying trees.

This is not safer. The earth is softer, more fertile. More room for things to crawl their way out of, more distance for a witch to sense or control.
1/2

>>536046
Letting the trolley coast for a short while, you bend over the side and drag your finger along the soil. Once having done so, you bring your hand to your nose and sniff it, being absolutely sure not to inhale any of the cursed substance.
No witch-chill. Either the witch has turned away or you’re outpacing her.

The plains aren’t an entirely unwelcome sight however. Dotted amidst the diseased trees are great jagged spurs of grey rock embedded halfway into the ground. Some are merely just boulders but others are giant shards that tower dozens of feet into the air. But though they may look it, they aren’t rock. They are concrete and they are safe.

As you keep pumping, you slowly leave the dead forest behind and there, in the distance! You see it! A ridge of gray in the horizon that reveals a vast flat expanse of concrete covering the ground ahead. At last! Something liveable.

As you get closer and closer the night finally breaks, the moon descending below the horizon and the sun slowly climbing out. Once this would have been a cause for celebration. It’s been a long time since then.

The sun that rises is a shattered thing, appearing more like broken glass then any form of light or fire. What light it does have is a dull twilight, barely lightening the world around you from when it had been night. You watch it limp up into the sky and sigh with grief, grief both for the sun and for everything that died with it.

It is then that the child wakes, gazing upon the broken sun without any sorrow. And why should he? He would have been born into this.
It has been over twenty years since God was murdered.

But that is an old story and this lad has plenty of new ones to tell you. Like, most pressingly, what the fuck he and his family were doing out there in a wagon.
“What’s your name, boy?”

“Marcus. What’s yours?”


>Christopher

>Joseph.

>Harold

>Orion

>Augustine

>Peter

>Other (Saint names only for anyone in this culture)

>>536050
>>Orion

>>536050
>Orion

>>536050
Francis

>>536050
>Other (Saint names only for anyone in this culture)
Polycarp, who was immune to fire

>>536050
>>Orion

>>536067
This

>>536067
That's cool and all but that is a really unfortunate name. That poor guy.

>>536050
>Orion

>>536050
>Martha
You never said we were male in the first place!

>>536075
But he was multiple fish!

>>536050
>>Orion

>>536078
This is good in case anyone ever tries to kill our son.

>>536050
>Orion

>>536050
>Orion

File: Martha.jpg (13 KB, 480x360)

13 KB JPG

>>536084
WHY DID YOU SAY THAT NAME

>>536079
Can it be his embarrassing middle name?

>>536067
I'll support it as a middle name.

>>536067
Second this middle/last name.

We don't say it, just end it halfway with a stammer.

>>536067
say wasn't Mother Teresa canonized like yesterday? so... that's an option then?

>>536121
Ehh we don't really seem like the stammering type so far. We're not some nerdy kid.

>>536122
It should be available, ask Ouro to be sure

>>536122
Nah we're male

>>536122
>>536130
whoops thought i'd linked to his post...

right then:
>>536050
i'll just link things here.
>>536122

>Orion

“Orion,” you say, the word feeling strange in your mouth. When was the last time you’d had to introduce yourself to another living soul? Well, you should probably get used to it because by the looks of things your long trek across the wasteland is over. You’ve finally reached safe land, the vast expanse of unbroken concrete ahead of you. Those gray plains should not only be home to Sacrament but to countless other towns, villages and homesteads as well. Where the railways are matters of convenience rather than necessity.
You’ve come so far.

“Hey, what’s this thing?”
Marcus is evidently feeling much better now, his hands going to the wrapped-up pole sitting within the trolley.

“None of your business is what it is,” you say as you gently smack his fingers away with your free hand. “Does a Lamplighter’s seal mean nothing to you?”

He waves his hand but you know he isn’t hurt.
“We’ve got a lamp back home,” he says, apropos of nothing but the strange workings of a young boy’s head. “It’s all fancy.”

You nod.
“Does it still work?”

He shakes his head and then stops himself to nod instead.
“Maybe? It shines like the sun.”

Oh, for the days when that would have been a bloody compliment.
“Then it would appear that I am here just in time. Now, what were you and your family doing out in the wasteland?”

“They weren’t my family,” he protests and strongly at that. “They were Adrian and Catherine.”
He says the names as if they were supposed to mean anything to you and you just stare him down until he keeps talking.
“Folks from town. They’re like married but not married. They gave me some food and took me out on the wagon.”

You shake your head.
“For what purpose?”

Marcus shrugs.
“I don’t know. They were mean.”

“So you’re telling me that you all went onto the earth with just a wagon and...what? Nothing else?”

Marcus shakes his head defiantly.
“I had this!”
He holds up the flint and tinder.
“Fire scares all the bad things away!”

“That they do, boy. But something that small? Out on the bare earth? At night and with witchborn things so close? To be honest, I’m surprised you even managed to draw a single spark from it. I’ve seen men twice your age fail to get a spark from oil in similar conditions.”
Maybe has a bit of the Flame Rites in him? You’d love to check but it’s not really your expertise.

“I got it from Ms Beatrice, she has a lot of good burning stuff. And Adrian didn’t even want me to take that, said he had a good deal in place.”

And now it all falls into place. And to think you’d felt bad for the man and the woman you’d found!
“Marcus, those two were cultists or heretics. They were assisting the witch.”

“There’s a witch!?”
He hugs himself in fear and you briefly scold yourself for not bringing the subject up in a lighter manner.

1/2

>>536172
“Yes. And those must have had some deal with them. I’d say it was a very good thing that I found you then.”
Had those two damned souls been expecting a more welcome reception and found a pack of ghouls in its place? Hrmph. Such is the fate of all those who would make deals with darkness.

But there’s something even worse about all of this, a terrible thought hanging over your head. You had thought that you’d left the witch behind but if she was able to contact people in Sacrament...could her territory expand all the way to the edge of the concrete? Or further? Or might she be in the town itself? It wouldn’t be unheard of.
You might be in for a little more than just lighting a lamp.

“What’s wrong, Ryan?”

“Orion.”

“What’s wrong?”


>”I have reason to think that the witch might not be done with us yet.”

>”The witch might be in Sacrament itself.”

>”Marcus, is there anyone strange in town? Or might have started acting strange recently?”

>”Nothing you need to worry about.”

>”I’m waiting to see if you turn into a ghoul or not.” Mess with the kid a little.

>Other

>>536175
>”Marcus, is there anyone strange in town? Or might have started acting strange recently?”

>>536175
>>”I have reason to think that the witch might not be done with us yet.”
>”Marcus, is there anyone strange in town? Or might have started acting strange recently?”

>>536175
>”I have reason to think that the witch might not be done with us yet.”

>>536175
>>”Marcus, is there anyone strange in town? Or might have started acting strange recently?”
>”I have reason to think that the witch might not be done with us yet.”

>>536175
>”I’m waiting to see if you turn into a ghoul or not.” Mess with the kid a little.
>”Marcus, is there anyone strange in town? Or might have started acting strange recently?”

>>536175
>”Marcus, is there anyone strange in town? Or might have started acting strange recently?”

>>536175
>”Marcus, is there anyone strange in town? Or might have started acting strange recently?”

>>536175
>Marcus, are you sure YOU aren't a witch?
>Inspect Marco

>>536175
>”Marcus, is there anyone strange in town? Or might have started acting strange recently?”

>”Marcus, is there anyone strange in town? Or might have started acting strange recently?”

You decide to shy away from directly mentioning your theory to the boy. It’d just make him worry more and if there is really a witch up in the town ahead, the last thing you need is him blabbing about it. Best to keep this knowledge to yourself for now.

“Marcus, is there anyone strange in town? Or maybe someone who started acting strange recently?”

“Adrian and Catherine are pretty strange!”

“Besides them.”

He stops to think for a long while and so you decide to nudge him along a little.
“Anyone who might have been taking trips to the ground? Or being strange about the farm soil? Do they do anything strange with their hands like this or do they shy away from light and flame?”

“Uh, I don’t know what that hand thing is. How did you make that sign? What-”

“Actually, best if you didn’t pay attention to it. Just anyone strange, Marcus, anyone who isn’t already dead.”

“Beatrice!”

“She of the ‘many burning things’? Doesn’t sound like what I’m looking for.”

“Yeah but she’s weird. She’s always got her hat on even when there isn’t light ‘cause she says the light hurts her eyes.”

“What about fire?”

“Oh she’s fine with fire. She has a cool gun.”

“Right.”
Well, that probably isn’t it.
“Anyone else?”

“Old Terrence, maybe? He’s always grubbing around in the dirt but I don’t know anything else because he don’t talk to nobody.”

Now that sounds a little more promising.
“Anyone else?”

Marcus squints at you.
“What’s all this for? Is something wrong?”

“That’s exactly what I’m hear to judge. Anyone else?”

“No? I don’t think so. I don’t know what people do.”
1/2

>>536255
By the time the conversation ends, your cart has drawn up close to the concrete shore. The thick layer of concrete covering the ground is less than a foot thick and so the rails go from being elevated to sitting smoothly atop the gray ground with barely any change.
Finally, you can relax a little more. Not that you have the time to however because Sacrament is right in front of you.

The small township is sprawled only a mere hundred feet from the edge of the concrete, a small scattering of buildings, roads and farmsteads. Tamed earth is piled high to cushion the hard concrete below and your railway is ready to take you right through the middle of it all.
“Marcus, isn’t it a bit dangerous to build a town so close to the edge?”

“Dad said it didn’t used to be the edge.”

You think back to the scene you passed in the forest, huge shards of broken concrete adrift as if they been smashed by an unimaginable force.
“I...understand.”
Was the survival of the railway just a miracle or did someone rebuild it later? A thought to be pondered later.

It isn’t long before the two of you are seen in the shimmering twilight and a large man bursts down from the main street and charges towards you, well ahead of everyone else. You almost get your stave ready but Marcus calms you with a single word.

“Dad!”

He climbs out of the trolley and runs the rest of the way, his father almost seamlessly dragging him into a hug. There’s tears in the man’s eyes.
“Mark! Where were you? I didn’t think we’d ever see you again!”

You feel a little awkward off to the side like this. These kind of things? Not really your thing and that’s being gentle about it.

“I’m okay dad! The Lamplighter came!”

The man looks up, apparently spotting you for the first time as you sit back in the handcart.
“Hello.”

“My word,” he breathes. “I didn’t think there were any of you left.”

Now, isn’t that a sore topic?
“Well, yeah. Here I am.”

“Thank you for saving my boy!”

He reaches out to you but you ward him off with a single hand.
“Please do not hug me too.”

He laughs, apparently taking that for a joke.
“Well, well, you’ve certainly come at the right time. My name is Edmund Cester, mayor of Sacrament. You’re stopping here for a while, aren’t you? Please, by all means, what’s ours is yours. If there’s anything you need…”


>Take him up on his offer. You haven’t had a good sleep for days.

>Could it really hurt to take part in the town's celebration?

>”Hold up. Let me attend my duty first.” Time to break out the wick.

>Walk about and inspect the town yourself.

>”You’ve got a witch, by the way.”

>”I need to tell you about the circumstances in which I found your son.”

>Inspect him for witchcraft.

>Other

>>536256
>”Hold up. Let me attend my duty first.” Time to break out the wick.
Can't sleep if there's a witch around.

>>536256
>>”Hold up. Let me attend my duty first.” Time to break out the wick.
Then
>Take him up on his offer. You haven’t had a good sleep for days.

>>536256
>Inspect him for witchcraft
and then
>”Hold up. Let me attend my duty first.” Time to break out the wick.

>>536175
>”Marcus, is there anyone strange in town? Or might have started acting strange recently?”

>>536256
>Inspect him for witchcraft.

>>536256
>>”I need to tell you about the circumstances in which I found your son.”

>>536256
>”Hold up. Let me attend my duty first.” Time to break out the wick.
>Walk about and inspect the town yourself.

>>536256
>”Hold up. Let me attend my duty first.” Time to break out the wick.
>Inspect him for witchcraft.
>”I need to tell you about the circumstances in which I found your son.”
>Walk about and inspect the town yourself.

In this order

>>536290
Aye this.

>”Hold up. Let me attend my duty first.” Time to break out the wick.

"Hold up," you interrupt him. Normally this would probably be pretty rude to do to mayor but people expect Lamplighters to be brusque. It's not a profession that lends itself to the chatty.
“Let me attend my duty first.”

“Ah, uh, of course,” he stammers as he steps back. “Far be it from me to get between you and your main duty.”

Hrmph. It’s not your main duty anymore but the idea of what being a Lamplighter stands for still holds strong for you. Bring light to darkness. Sometimes that gets a bit metaphorical but it remains true in the literal sense as well. Sacrament and thousands of other little towns like it are ultimately dependent on Lamplighters like you.

You gather up your belongings, taking up the wrapped-up pole and bearing it across your back. It’s still bloody heavy but you bear the weight with long practice. As you approach the town you can see the people draw back away from you. As they should. You are clad head to toe in dented rune-plate, a dark red cloak and hood drawn over you with the crest of the Wheel God on its back. Your staff in your left hand and your wick in the right. You must look every inch the dedicated Lamplighter, a figure from the story books.
Not that you care what they think of you.

As for the people themselves, they look...ordinary. You don’t know what you were expecting. Third Men all, gray-skinned and hardy. Gray men and women for a gray age. Most of them have a lean hard-bitten look to them and you know why. The harvest must have been poor this year but worse still is the knowledge that the harvest is going to be worse the following. And it’s going to keep getting worse unless something is done.

You find the ornate lamp-post a little bit down the main street, embedded in what must have once been the very center of Sacrament. It stands out from the rest of the town as clear as day, a construction of dark spiked metal embedded through the false soil and into the concrete itself. You brush away the dirt to reveal a thin circle of runes in the concrete around the lamp-post’s base. Good to see those are still holding.
Once the runes would have glimmered and shone with light of their own but those days are long past.

The lamp still burns but not well, the light merely adding further twilight. Half-light.

“Some room, please.”
You set tap the bottom of your long-handled wick against the base of the post and you are rewarded with the awed muttering of the townsfolk behind you as the tip of the wick ignites with clean orange flame. True fire, a feat you doubt most Lamplighters would be able to pull off these days. Of course, you’re cheating in that regard.
The thing on your back glows warm for just a moment.

1/2

>>536335
You bring the wick back up, gripping it firmly and feeling its power flow through you. Now this is a proper Flame Rite tool, more than that measly lantern!

Wick: 10/10

You reach up to the ancient lamp-post and turn the secret switch to open it. It takes you a bit of finagling and you let out a slow whistle of appreciation. Is this a genuine Second Age relic? In a place like this? Not bad.
You reach into the lamp with the lit wick and ignite it with the True Flame. You can feel the lamp react to it and you are quick to modulate it. You wonder if the townsfolk here have ever tried to light the lamp themselves. It wouldn’t have worked. A beast like this, like every central lamp-post all good towns should have, are Lamplighters are made for.

Wick: 9/10

You retract your wick, the lamp now shining over the entire town with a proper yellow light. And make no mistake, it is over the entire town. Central lamp-posts are built for that purpose, even if the ken for making them has been long since lost. Radiance seeps out across the streets and extends its safety over all of Sacrament. The crops will grow, the men will see and creatures of the dark will shy away.
It won’t last forever of course, there will come a time without proper attendance the lamp will gutter and die once more.

But for as long as it lasts, you have given sunlight back to the people of Sacrament.

The spell of silence is broken and the townsfolk rush forward, burying you under a tide of praise. You don’t even mind the hugs this time. All around you you can see the town come to life as people are roused to see the miracle that the Lamplighter has wrought.
And yes, you’ll admit that it’s awful tempting to take them up on their offer and be swept up in their celebration. After so long in the wasteland, the knowledge of a job well down does your heart a world of good.

But it might not be very responsible of you.


>Ah, celebrate for now. The town is protected once again, what harm can come of it?

>You’d love to join them but you’d rather sleep. You’re sure any of the people here would gladly let you rest at their home.

>Now that they’re all out here, announce the matter of the witch to all of them.

>Pull the mayor aside and tell him of what you’ve seen.

>Other

>>536337
>Pull the mayor aside and tell him of what you’ve seen

>>536337
>Pull the mayor aside and tell him of what you’ve seen.
Lets not cause a panic or a figurative witch hunt

>>536337
>Pull the mayor aside and tell him of what you’ve seen.

>>536337
>Pull the mayor aside and tell him of what you’ve seen.

>>536337
>Pull the mayor aside and tell him of what you’ve seen.
>tfw my days of being able to stay up late for quests are over
I'm glad you're back Ouro but I must sleep

>Pull the mayor aside and tell him of what you’ve seen

You turn away from the lamp and the people ahead of you part before you like the Mud Sea before the First Men. They are eager to let you share in their happiness but for their sake you must remain apart for now. The light may protect against the dark but witches...witches are an uncommon breed of creature and they have trespassed upon light before.
You won’t rest until you are sure that you have done everything you can to protect these people. And to be quite perfectly honest, you’ve spent enough time crossing the wasteland that you’ve grown un-accustomed to this entire business.

Instead you head for the mayor, spotting him sending Marcus inside as people hold their hands to bask in the light’s warmth.
“Yes, Orion?”
Marcus must have told him your name. You’re not sure how you feel about that.
“Like I said, is there anything you need just ask.”

“What I need right now, Edmund, is vigilance.”

“I beg your pardon?”

You lead him away down the street, lowering your voice as you do so. Edmund is no fool, he can plainly see that this is a serious matter.
“I have reason to believe that a witch may be present in town.”
You give him a brief rundown of your meeting with Marcus and everything that transpired since.

The mayor looks like he doesn’t know where to begin.
“Ghouls? And Marcus-a witch and the Chesters and oh! I can’t believe you saved him from ghouls.”

“No need to panic now. Listen Edmund, the two of us need to keep this a secret for now. Do you really want to ruin this?”
You wave your hand to encompass the growing celebration.

“Of course not but, Sir Orion, a witch is no laughing matter!”

Understatement of the year, right there.
“Just Orion is fine, thank you. But as I said before, it is possible that one of the townsfolk themselves may have become a witch not that long ago. And if we handle this matter incorrectly then the town will destroy itself without the witch’s help. So please, keep this between us.”

He nods, a much paler shade than he was a few moments ago.
“I understand. But are you sure she is within the town?”

“Not necessarily a she. And no, it could be that her territory simply ranges wide. But in my experience as a Witch-finder,” you watch him go even paler as you say that, “it is best to assume the worst and work up from there.”

“R-right. So how can I help you with this?”

“For now? Just by staying quiet. And maybe by telling me about a few of the more eccentric folk in your herd. Starting with a ‘Ms Beatrice’ and an ‘Old Terrance.”

He purses his lips.
“You got those names from Mark, didn’t you? He’s the only one who calls Terry old. And to be honest, I don’t have problems with either of those people Sir Orion.”

“Just Orion. Really, it’s fine. Tell me about the two of them.”

“Well, Terry isn’t that old first of. That’s him over there.”
1/2

>>536425
Edmund points him out as right in the middle of the throng. Brilliant. Extracting him from there without letting people in on something being wrong is going to be painful. He’s right though, he’s not particularly old. A man with short brown hair and a huge beard that shows just a hint of gray. You’re probably older than he is.
“Now I know he’s a farmer, that’s always a very risky job. But I’ve known him nearly all my life and he takes confession with me at least once a week. And yes, he does spend a lot of time with the dirt but someone has to!”

“How often do people see him while he’s working?”

“Eh?”

“I mean, if he was eating dirt would anyone notice?”

Edmund looks appalled.
“He wouldn’t! And besides, all the soil here in Sacrament has been tamed for generation.”

“That doesn’t always stop them,” you mutter, accidentally adding yet more worry to the mayor’s face. “What about the other one? Beatrice?”

Edmund takes on a pleading look.
“You’d be best served leaving her alone. Yes, she’s a strange one but she’s helped Sacrament more than anyone these past years and just because she’s a little ...off, there’s no reason to take her!”

My, my. Someone is remarkable well-read on witch hunts. It was never particularly uncommon for righteous Lamplighters hunting witches to simply grab the strangest people first. But you’re not just any Lamplighter, you’re a Witch-finder specifically and you take pride in avoiding that sloppy shit.
“Just tell me about her, Edmund. What does she do?”

“She’s done all kind of odd jobs and work ever since she first came here. She has guns and blackpowder and she’s the best at making them ignite. So yes, she dresses strange and hides her face and she don’t take confession and people have called her a witch before but by God as my witness, S- Orion, we need her.”

“I’ll be the judge of that.”
Now that’s a strange description. Because every part of that, save the mention of guns and flame, sounds exactly like a witch.
“Does she ever stray onto the earth?”

“I don’t know! She keeps to herself!”

“I see.”

“I know it looks bad but-”

“Can you point her out to me?”

Edmund squints towards the crowd and then frowns.
“Odd. She’s not here. I mean, that’s not unusual for her but you’d think that if anything would drag her out, this would.”


>You should start your investigation with Beatrice.

>Pull Terrance out of the crowd.

>Check out the farms first, don’t talk to anybody just yet.

>Inspect the home of the traitorous couple.

>Maybe you should just wait. The witch may reveal themselves yet.

>Other

File: fleksnek.png (13 KB, 400x400)

13 KB PNG

>>536356
Don't worry anon, I've got stuff to do as well. So I'm ending the session for now. I'll be back to this thread at the same time tomorrow to help finish this off. This vote will run on for tonight and I'll close it when I get back tomorrow.
I've just archived the thread and be sure to check my twitter for updates and session times!

Now aside from all that, what do you guys think of the new quest so far? It's been a little more solitary then I first intended but rest assured it's not going to stay that way.

>>536430
>>Pull Terrance out of the crowd.
He's right there might as well start with him. If anyone asks what he has done tell them you like to know that state of the land around wherever you stay and Terrance would be the best to ask because he works it every day.

PS: How do we tell if they are witches? Do we have to wait for them to do something witchy or can we tell by laying hands or some shit?

>>536430
>Pull Terrance out of the crowd.

>>536448
Gay

>>536430
>>Inspect the home of the traitorous couple.
say since their home is empty now, maybe we can set it up as a base of operations?

>>536430
>Pull Terrance out of the crowd.

>>536448
Seems interesting. I'll definitely be keeping an eye on it.

>>536456
It possible to find one through a very rigorous and uncomfortable inspection if you're a Witch-finder but it's often better to look for context clues. Soil-stained hands, tracking dirt around, uncomfortable with light, doing weird shit with their hands, etc etc.
Obviously catching them with dirt in their mouth is the smoking gun.

>>536470
You can commission a great deal of things, depending on the piety of the local townsfolk.

>>536468
I'll take that into consideration, anon

>>536468
>this coming from the anon that wanted to unleash hidden karate powers

>>536555
Get some real taste senpai
My civs and Naruto fanfics are better than this gay shit

>>536430
>Inspect the home of the traitorous couple.

>>536448
It helped paint the quest a more serious tone, as well as keep the waifufaggtory at bay, so cheers to that. I'm also equal parts amazed and curious as to where you find your ideas to write these, cosidering the fact you just finished writing a different world almost recently.
Glad to have you back, mate.

>>536430
>Inspect the home of the traitorous couple.

>>536430
>Inspect the home of the traitorous couple.

>>536448
Good shit man. Seems interesting.

>>536430
>Inspect the home of the traitorous couple.

>>536448
I am thoroughly enjoying this. I'm new to the board (like this week new) but this is my favorite quest thus far.

>>536430
>Pull Terrance out of the crowd.

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Have a wallpaper.

>Inspect the home of the traitorous couple.

“Are you sure the witch is in Sacrament?,” Edmund asks again, his tone pleading. It’s easy enough to see why he wants to believe otherwise. Aside from everyone here being people he knows and trusts, as the mayor he has the role of not being only the literal leader of his community but the spiritual as well. Back in the old days, before the ending of the world, mayors were appointed to be pious leaders of their herds, to guide their souls to light and to take confession with all those who needed it. Sacrament still keeps with these traditions and so the presence of a newborn witch within the town wasn’t merely an existential threat but a moral one. It would mean that Edmund would have failed in his duties.
That’s not something you would punish him for but still, that’s the kind of mistake that haunts you for the rest of your life.

You would know.

“Perhaps. But there is no harm in acting as if they are,” you say, your eyes roaming over the celebrating townsfolk as if you could pick apart their witchcraft by sight alone. “As long as word of this doesn’t get out, that is.”

Edmund nods, the poor man sweating.
“I had been expecting a little more time allotted to us to simply be happy before the dark came knocking but...this is an ill omen to cast upon us today.”

“It is better to know the omens and be wary then it is to be happy but ignorant.”
Words to live by, especially for a Witch-finder. It is what your order has used to justify their delving into witchcraft for so long.
“Can you direct me to the home of the Chesters? That should make a fine start for now.”

“Of course. I still can’t believe those two...I mean, uh. Was it wrong of me not to have chastised them for living in sin for so long? I should have known something was amiss when they didn’t marry.”

“Marriage, while a most holy and beautiful thing, has little to no bearing on witchcraft or the dark in general save in the most abstract ways. This, at least, was not your fault.”

That doesn’t seem to make him feel better.
“Do you need me to come with you?”


>You guess so. You might need the help later.

>”You have your own duties. Leave me to mine.”

>”Guilt is a motivation that leads nowhere.”

>”No but you could fetch Terrance and set him aside for me?”

>”No but you could fetch Beatrice and set her aside for me?”

>Other

>>537943
>”You have your own duties. Leave me to mine.”

>>537943
>Guilt is a motivation that leads nowhere.

>>537943
>”Guilt is a motivation that leads nowhere.”
>”No but you could fetch Terrance and set him aside for me?”
Welcome back.

>>537943
>”You have your own duties. Leave me to mine.”
>”Guilt is a motivation that leads nowhere.”

>>537943
>”Guilt is a motivation that leads nowhere.”

>”Guilt is a motivation that leads nowhere.”

“Guilt is a motivation that leads nowhere,” you give as your response, shaking his offer off as you walk past him. He sputters just a little before he runs to catch up with you. He nearly reaches out to grab your shoulder before evidently rethinking and letting his arm hang.

“What do you mean by that?”

“It is good to feel guilty about your failings. But you can’t let that control you. It won’t be assauged because what you have done will not be undone. Helping me or indeed any other action will not erase what has already come to pass under your watch.”
You have a little personal experience in the matter.

The mayor is clearly uncertain what to say here. You’ve practically insulted him right to his face and you can see his frustration but what can he do? He settles for grinding his teeth just a little.
“Then what am I supposed to do?”

“Act in the interests of your town and your herd. Do it because it helps them and because it keeps the light and because it is the right thing to do. Doing it to make yourself feel better is half-hearted and selfish besides.”

He stops, letting you walk on ahead.
“And why do you light the lamps, Orion?”

“Because it must be done.”
You have no patience for fence-sitters and dawdlers. God knows you’ve made wrong choices before but the only thing to do is to get back onto your feet and make the right choice next time.
Still, you have the feeling that the next time you meet the mayor he might not be quite so cordial.

Leaving Edmund and the celebrating crowd behind you follow his directions down the main street and round a corner, the soft layer of tamed soil and dust queasy beneath your feet. After so long it is a little uncanny to walk the earth in safety.

The home of the Chesters is small, practically a hovel. The door is either unlocked or possesses no working lock in the first place and you stroll right in and find...nothing. A low-slung and ragged ‘bed’ in the corner, an ill-kept fireplace, a dozen little tools and knick-knacks. This was not as immediately educational as you had first hoped.


>Take the time to search the home thoroughly.

>See if you can find a neighbour who isn’t at the celebrations and ask them about the two.

>Look for tracks or signs from passage around the home.

>Leave this hovel behind and inspect something else.

>Other

>>538000
>>Take the time to search the home thoroughly.

>>538000
>Take the time to search the home thoroughly.

>>538000
>Take the time to search the home thoroughly.

>>538000
>Take the time to search the home thoroughly.

>>538000
>>Take the time to search the home thoroughly.
>Look for tracks or signs from passage around the home.

>>538000
>Take the time to search the home thoroughly.

>Take the time to search the home thoroughly.

No, there has to be something here. What kind of Witch-finder would give up after a mere passing glance? These two were in contact with either a witch within or beyond the village, one who has spent at least some time in the wasteland. There has to be some means to it, some method of communication that they possessed!
You crouch in the middle of the hovel and after a moment of deliberation, drag your finger through the thin layer of dust just as you did back in the handcar. It’s best to do such acts out of sight for even though this isn’t [/i]quite[/i] witchcraft, it is a Witch-finder act derived from forbidden knowledge. Other Lamplighters likely wouldn’t approve.

Inspecting the dust tells you nothing however. There is no witch-chill present and if a witch has ever even so much as set foot in here, the entire place has been thoroughly swept and cleansed in the meantime. And considering the state of this place you very much doubt that has occurred anytime recently.

But there must be something! You know they’ve been in contact somehow. How did they get their orders, their deals? You search the house a second time and turn up nothing. So you search it a third time and then a fourth, your actions growing more and more frantic and frustrated as the answer continues to elude you! Before long the house is in an even greater state of disarray then it was before, the bed overturned, the shelf picked apart, the fireplace scattered. And yet you find nothing?

You pick up the pillow for the third time, a clumpy woven sack and shake it as if it were the Chesters themselves. And as you do so, you notice a small trail of specks leak from a tiny hole in the stitching, shaken loose by your search efforts.

You rip the pillow in half and take a quick step back as you see what spills out. Soil! The pillow is entirely stuffed with black loam soil, thick and pungent. Untamed and unruly earth and a thicker conduit for witchcraft then you have seen for a long time.
The thought of the two of them sleeping on this makes your skin crawl. Is this how it was done? Those fools! They hadn’t literally buried their heads in it but they’d done the next best thing and given the witch an opening straight into their sleeping dreams. This must be how they received their instructions.

You drag your finger hesitantly through the black loam and sniff, barely able to stomach having it so close to your face. It is saturated in witch-chill.


>Burn it. Burn it all.

>Call for help.

>Sleep upon the pillow. You may learn much.

>See if you can divine anything within it. Another shady technique.

>Leave it be for now.

>Other

>>538040
>>See if you can divine anything within it. Another shady technique.
then
>Call for help.

>>538040
>See if you can divine anything within it. Another shady technique.

>>538040
>See if you can divine anything within it. Another shady technique.
>Call for help.

Is this based off a series? Or is this original?

>>538056
Ouro does original stuff Look up his last quest, Snakecatcher quest.

>>538056
The latter.

>>538060
Dammit, I was hoping I had a new book series to look into.

>>538056
Original, I'm afraid

>>538040
>>See if you can divine anything within it. Another shady technique.

>>538066
Well write a book you bastard.

>>538064
You now have a quest to look forward to instead. ;:^)

>>538040
>See if you can divine anything within it. Another shady technique.

>>538040

>See if you can divine anything within it. Another shady technique.

Sorry about the delay on this one. My internet connection got real funky for a moment.

>See if you can divine anything within it. Another shady technique.

The Witch-finders, in their quest to understand the enemy, had many practices that were frowned upon by the rest of the Lamplighters. Or would have been frowned upon if they hadn’t been kept secret. Really it was best that they didn’t know. But you are no mere apostate to be lured from your faith by such petty baubles and the idea that faith was best safeguarded by ignorance is one that you detest.

It is time to attempt a simple divination.

You take up a great handful of the loam and cup it between two hands, clearing your mind of all stray thoughts as you do so. This isn’t witch-craft. You are making no signs, invoking no names. This is safe.

Really, all you are doing here is relying on an age-old principle. Dark attracts dark. Soil so deeply impregnated with witch-chill should yearn for her touch or, you suppose, the touch of any witch. The yearning is weak but when in an environment free of all other darkness, it should out itself. And thus it can be used as a makeshift compass towards witchcraft.
A useful tool but not one to be relied on, it would be child’s play to turn it against you.

You gently blow upon the soil in your hands, letting specks fly off and settle where they will. The pattern appears random but by the same feeling in your fingers that you can use to track witch-chill, you can trace which direction the cursed dirt is inclining towards.
Outside.

You step outside, almost in a trance with the effort required to keep your mind centered, calm and empty. You need it be thus so that you can feel the miniscule deviations in the chill. And yes, it would no doubt look quite curious to see you, a Lamplighter, consorting with such means but fortunately the street is still empty. You can hear the celebrations still from deeper within Sacrament.

Your divination leads you down the street and around several corners and you can’t help but notice that it isn’t leading you towards the wasteland. It’s leading you deeper into town. Then you were right, the witch is here! All you can hope for now is that you find your culprit before the dirt smearing your hands dissipates altogether.

And just as the last of the soil fades, it does so. You are now standing in the outskirts of Sacrament, the last row of houses before the town gives way to vast concrete plains and the tamed farms. Your target house is a far sight from the hovel you were previously investigating, a modest but well-kept little cottage. There is nothing outwardly concerning about it but you can see the last speck of loam clinging to the doorframe. This is the greatest source of dark within all of Sacrament, there can be no doubt.


>Ready your wick and charge in!

>Go get the mayor.

>Round up the townsfolk.

>Just knock on the door at first.

>Try to sneak around the back through a window.

>Other

>>538141
>Just knock on the door at first.

>>538141
>Just knock on the door at first.

>>538141
>Just knock on the door at first.

>>538141

>Try to sneak around the back through a window.

Don't give "it" time.

>>538141
>>Just knock on the door at first.

>>538141
>Just knock on the door at first.

>>538141
>Just knock on the door at first.

>>538141
>Just knock on the door at first.

>Just knock on the door at first.

There’s no need to be hasty just yet, the witch shouldn’t yet be aware of your arrival. What you did to the dirt was a passive act, it would have felt no different from simply spilling it upon the ground. And while another witch would be able to track them with such a divination you doubt they would be expecting a Lamplighter to be capable of it. And while the idea of rounding up a good old-fashioned mob is inviting, it might be best to leave the good people of Sacrament out of it. You wouldn’t want to endanger the townsfolk after all. No, best to leave cauterizing this wound to you.

But that doesn’t mean you should simply charge in first, staff out and wick ablaze. There is such a thing as subtlety after all, even in this line of work. Who knows, you might be able to worm something out of them before the time for the purge arrives.

So with that in mind you simply walk up to the front door and knock, your armoured fist rapping against the wood. Silence. Has she already been forewarned to your arrival? Has she fled? Is it even a she?

You knock a second time and this time you are rewarded by the sound of something clanging distantly round the back. Metal on metal by the sounds of it. Curious.
“Who is it? I’ll be right there!”
A feminine voice.

As the unseen owner of the house approaches only then does it occur to you that showing up on her doorstep as a Lamplighter in full regalia might scare her off. She must have seen the light, she must know you are here. Do you wish to provoke a fight immediately?


>Remain as you are. You are not the one in question here.

>See if you can shuck your cloak and armour off. You can do so extremely quickly if the need arises.

>Stand off to the side and hide to see who answers without them seeing you.

>Put your eye straight to the peep-hole in the door to stop her from using it.

>Announce yourself before she even reaches the door.

>Remain as you are and raise your staff to hit her the moment she shows herself.

>Other

>>538213
>Remain as you are. You are not the one in question here.

>>538213
>Remain as you are. You are not the one in question here.

>>538213
>Remain as you are. You are not the one in question here.
Well fuck it.

>>538213
>Remain as you are. You are not the one in question here.
>sup Beatrice, how goes the gunsmithing?

>>538213
>Remain as you are. You are not the one in question here.

>>538213
>>Remain as you are. You are not the one in question here.

>>538213
>Remain as you are. You are not the one in question here.

>Remain as you are. You are not the one in question here.

What does it matter if she sees you for what you are? You are not here to befriend her or to invite her to some wretched tea party. And if it provokes her to make a fight of it then so what? Sacrament bathes in the light once more. Short of the sun miraculously recovering she will never be weaker and you will never be stronger. In fact, part of you wants for exactly that to happen. There’s nothing that would make you happier right now then burning a witch to death.

So not only do you stay as you are, you keep your grip firm around your wick and your staff, ready to raise them at any time.
You hear a small scuffling behind the door before it slowly creaks open, the woman on the other side clearly hesitant.

“Good...morning? Sir?”
Her voice, now that you hear it closer, is raspy and ill-treated. Has she not been eating the proper dirt lately? You suppose that would make sense.

The woman on the other side looks almost a girl thanks to her short frame but other aspects make it evident she is not. She’s dressed practically, wrapped in a thick overcoat, a pair of men’s trousers and sturdy boots. Maybe too practically. That’s not the kind of outfit you wear to traipse around town. It might be what you wear to travel the wasteland however…
Most curiously, the top half of her face is covered with a wide-brimmed hat that you would bet anything she had just pulled over the top of her head a moment ago. You can’t see her eyes.

She clearly knows what you are.
“Can I help you?”


>Push the door open the rest of the way. What’s she hiding?

>”I was just wondering what someone was doing staying at home in a time like this.”

>Invite yourself in.

>Hit her on the head with your staff.

>Grab her hat.

>”Oh, I’m just trying to ask around about the incident last night. Did you happen to know the Chesters?”

>Shine a light in her face.

>Oh, you should probably ask her name.

>”The mayor just wanted me to make sure everyone in town was still safe after what happened last night.”

>”I’m looking for a witch. You’re a witch.”

>Other

>>538288
>>”Oh, I’m just trying to ask around about the incident last night. Did you happen to know the Chesters?”
>"May I come in?"

>>538288
>>”I was just wondering what someone was doing staying at home in a time like this.”
>”Oh, I’m just trying to ask around about the incident last night. Did you happen to know the Chesters?”
>Oh, you should probably ask her name.
>”The mayor just wanted me to make sure everyone in town was still safe after what happened last night.”

>>538288
>”The mayor just wanted me to make sure everyone in town was still safe after what happened >”Oh, I’m just trying to ask around about the incident last night. Did you happen to know the Chesters?”last night.”
>Oh, you should probably ask her name.
Be all friendly until the time comes.

>>538288
>Shine a light in her face.
>Oh, you should probably ask her name.

>>538288

>”Oh, I’m just trying to ask around about the incident last night. Did you happen to know the Chesters?”
>"May I come in?"
>Other
Something to the effect of "You seem rather ill, are you alright?"

>>538288
>Invite yourself in.

Let's go full Pulp Fiction here.

>>538288
>”I’m looking for a witch. You’re a witch.”
>Invite yourself in.
>”I was just wondering what someone was doing staying at home in a time like this.”
>Oh, you should probably ask her name.
Maybe in that order.

>>538288
>>”The mayor just wanted me to make sure everyone in town was still safe after what happened >”Oh, I’m just trying to ask around about the incident last night. Did you happen to know the Chesters?”last night.”
>>Oh, you should probably ask her name.
>Invite yourself in.

Okay, I'm calling it for a combination of:

>”Oh, I’m just trying to ask around about the incident last night. Did you happen to know the Chesters?”
>”The mayor just wanted me to make sure everyone in town was still safe after what happened last night.”
>Ask to come in/Invite yourself in.
>Oh, you should probably ask her name

File: beee.png (352 KB, 535x663)

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>”Oh, I’m just trying to ask around about the incident last night. Did you happen to know the Chesters?”
>”The mayor just wanted me to make sure everyone in town was still safe after what happened last night.”
>Ask to come in.
>Oh, you should probably ask her name

Well, she’s not immediately hostile. Does she think that it might be a mere coincidence that you have come to her doorstep? You suppose she loses nothing by acting as such while attacking you right from the start would just confirm any suspicions you might have had.
Has the light cowed her? That could very well be it.

But for now you are willing to play along.
“The mayor just wanted me to make sure everyone in town was still safe after last night’s ...incident. You’re actually the first person I’ve found thus far to still be in their home. Makes it a lot easier.”

“Staying inside, that’s me.”
She laughs nervously a little.
“Anyway I’m fine so thank you for the kindness.”
She attempts to close your door but you simply place your gauntleted hand in the way, the door bouncing off it harmlessly.

“Sorry to be so intrusive but I had another reason to come here.”

“You did?”
You can’t see her eyes but you can feel them, staring holes through you from underneath the brim of her hat. You can see her grow a little tenser.

“Did you happen to know the Chesters?”

She relaxes almost immediately.
“Sort of. Not very well. I don’t get out much and I wasn’t born her like them.”
You bet she wasn’t.

“Well I would be happy to take your testimony regardless. Nobody else has had anything of any use. Could I come in?”

She reluctantly opens the door wider to reveal...a grungy old cottage, a lot messier on the inside then the outside but nothing inherently...witchy.
“By all means, Lamplighter. What’s mine is yours.”
Her voice is a drone, even over the traditional rite of hospitality. She is making it plain that she’d really rather you didn’t stick around. The complete lack of respect involved is refreshing at least.

You step inside and walk to the kitchen table, taking note of the side-rooms. Is that a forge off to the side? How the hell does someone as slight as her hope to use it? It’s only when you see the pair of pistols hanging on the wall over the table does it click.
“Ms Beatrice, I presume?”

She doesn’t look happy at you naming her. You get the feeling she rarely looks happy at all.
“Just Beatrice. Only kids call me that. Do you have a name?”

“Orion.”

“Well, mister Orion, I’m afraid I can’t be of much help to you. Those two were always off in their own little world and I didn’t know much of them. That’s all I can say.”

The two of you stand beside the table awkwardly, the witch clearly wanting you gone without doing anything as suspicious as telling you to leave.
“Would...would you like some tea?”
She has to practically force the question out.

1/2

>>538400
There’s an old teapot on the table beside you, stained and chipped. And beside it, a small bag of...something. It looks black.
>”I would be happy to.”

>”No thanks.”

>”It is a little odd to have such a well-used teapot these days. May I ask what you were using to heat it up?”

>Leave. You’ve accomplished all you can with talk.

>Hit her with the staff. You’ve accomplished all you can with talk.

>”Tell me what your deal is right now or I’m going to arrest you as a witch.”

>Just tell her about the divination.

>’Accidentally’ shine a light into her face.

>”Do you always wear that hat indoors?”

>Make a witch-sign at her and see her reaction.

>Ask to see her handle the gun. Gunpowder will not combust in the hands of a witch.

>”You look ill.”

>Other

>>538402
>Make a witch-sign at her and see her reaction.
Make it like you accidently did it.

>>538402
>”You look ill.”
"Have you seen a doctor?"

>>538402
>”No thanks.”
>”It is a little odd to have such a well-used teapot these days. May I ask what you were using to heat it up?”
Just tell her about the divination.

>>538402
>”No thanks.”
>Just tell her about the divination.

>>538402
>>”You look ill.”
>”It is a little odd to have such a well-used teapot these days. May I ask what you were using to heat it up?”
>”Do you always wear that hat indoors?”
>Make a witch-sign at her and see her reaction.

>>538402
>”Tell me what your deal is right now or I’m going to arrest you as a witch.”
There's literally no point to play coy

>>538402
>Just tell her about the divination.

>>538402
>Just tell her about the divination
>”Tell me what your deal is right now or I’m going to arrest you as a witch.”

>>538402
>>’Accidentally’ shine a light into her face.
>>”Do you always wear that hat indoors?”

>Just tell her about the divination

There’s a lot here to be suspicious of but frankly, you’re tired of playing coy. What reason do you really have to do so? The entire town may be riding on your decisions here and you’re just playing games!
“I’m sure you’d appreciate it if I just got to the point.”

“I doubt it.”
She knows. But does she know that you know that she knows?

“When I was investigating the Chester’s home I found a stock of black loam stored within their pillow. Do you know what that means?”

She nods grimly but says nothing.

“And when I scattered the dirt, I used it as a compass. It led me right to your doorstep. Do you know what that means?”

She keeps nodding but only seems to realize the import of what you said just a moment later.
“Wait! No!”

Her hands come up to make a sign and you had been waiting for this moment. You bring the staff down just hard enough to separate them and with your other hand you swing the wick until the tip of it is tracing against her throat.
“No signs! Now get over here and come with me, you’ve a lot to answer for.”

“Wait, wait!,” she shrieks. “You’ve got it wrong!”
She reaches up once more and this time your staff is too slow to keep her hands from moving. Shit. Oh well, it would have been nice to interrogate her but she’s left you no other choice. You prepare to ignite the wic-
And she rips her coat open, her fingers desperately working at the blouse beneath.

Well, that wasn’t quite what you expected but you’re not going to let her do it anyway. You push the handle of the wick against her throat hard enough to pin her up against the wall.
“The wiles of a witch mean nothing to me.”

“Oh shut it, you big virginal cu-...clod! I know it won’t, you think I haven’t dealt with your kind before?”

She unbuttons her blouse but only just enough to display her collar-bone and the little hollow beneath her neck. There’s a mark there, no, a brand. The crude shape of a wheel with six spokes has been burned into her sickly flesh just above her sternum.

You pull the wick back and drop her in disgust. You’ve been wasting your time.

You found a witch alright but just a tamed one. It’s been decades since you’ve seen her like.
“Mind telling me what you’re doing outside of a prison somewhere?”

“Bite me,” she spits, still catching her breath upon the ground. “That was before the world broke open.”

Well, that’s a reasonable excuse you suppose.
“I’m surprised there’s any of your kind left.”

“I could say the same for you.”

1/2

>>538402
Yeah enough games >>538450
Although maybe she is an ex-witch just trying to make it in a concrete world and she will help us out if she knows there is a practicing witch around

>>538599
The witch brand was a strange practice, one that had only been picked up during the latter years of the Third Age and it had been pioneered by your brethren. Learning from witches was hard and the need to slay each and every one of them was not conducive to proper research. Not to mention how to deal with the occasional surrender, witches who had come to regret their blasphemies. So the brand had come about, a mixture of advanced Benediction, Flame Rites and plundered witch-lore. With the mark of the Sun, the Wheel God, upon her flesh, a witch was rendered powerless and her connection to the earth sundered forever.
You’d come here trying to track down the active witch and all you’d found was this...this bitch, sitting around and fouling up your divination! You have to hold yourself from giving her a few good whacks with the staff while she’s down.

It’s not like she wouldn’t deserve them either. You have no love for the branded, even for those who willingly renounced their ways. That they regretted their choices did not in any way make up for the fact that they had still made that choice. They had still chosen to throw their lot in with the earth and to forsake their humanity. Even now, branded and stripped of all power, she only looked human.

Beatrice slowly gets to her knees, one hand keeping her hat steady over her face.
“If that’s all,” she rasps, “kindly get the fuck out of my house. Don’t you have a real witch to catch?”


>No, there’s something here that still doesn’t make sense. What about the fire?

>”Do the people know what you are? What kind of danger you’ve been putting them in?”

>”How many people died before they dragged you in for branding?”

>”...You must be a lot older then you look.”

>”I think you mean WE have a real witch to catch.” Drag her out of the house. You can use this.

>Hit her a few times with the staff to make sure she’s subdued.

>Knock her hat off.

>Other

>>538604
>”Do the people know what you are? What kind of danger you’ve been putting them in?”
>No, there’s something here that still doesn’t make sense. What about the fire?

>>538604
>No, there’s something here that still doesn’t make sense. What about the fire?
>”I think you mean WE have a real witch to catch.” Drag her out of the house. You can use this.

>>538604
>No, there’s something here that still doesn’t make sense. What about the fire?

>>538604
>WE have a witch to catch
You know the town and how witches operate. And surely you want to avoid a panic.

>>538604
>I think you mean WE have a witch to catch.
>Do the people know what you are?

>>538604
>>”Do the people know what you are? What kind of danger you’ve been putting them in?”
>No, there’s something here that still doesn’t make sense. What about the fire?
>”I think you mean WE have a real witch to catch.” Drag her out of the house. You can use this.

>>538604
>”I think you mean WE have a real witch to catch.” Drag her out of the house. You can use this.
>”Do the people know what you are? What kind of danger you’ve been putting them in?”

>>538604
>>”...You must be a lot older then you look.”

>>538604
>>No, there’s something here that still doesn’t make sense. What about the fire?
>>”Do the people know what you are? What kind of danger you’ve been putting them in?”
>>”I think you mean WE have a real witch to catch.” Drag her out of the house. You can use this.

Fun Fact: The term 'clod' is a much more serious insult for a witch then it might sound.

Anyway, calling the vote