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>>1014027

It's a beautiful night to walk the empty capital streets, even though the edge of the wind was sharp enough to cut you to the bone. So cold and dry that it burned as you took it into your lungs, the air had a perfect stillness to it – a rare moment of utter silence. Above, from a cloudless sky, the full moon shone like a lump of crystal. Pure white, without even the suggestion of redness, that moon seemed like a good omen. An omen of what, however, you could not say.

“I'll be busy,” Camilla mentioned casually, as you walked, “Up in Port Steyr. Loch seems to think there's going to be trouble there, and I can't really bring myself to disagree. More soldiers, for one thing, with nothing to do but drink and start fights. It's not the soldiers I'm worried about, though – it's the natives.” She falls silent for a while, cutting her words short as you pass another couple. They cling to each other like lost children, giggling and murmuring soft words not meant for anyone else.

The natives, you prompt after a further moment, what about them?

“Right. Like I said, it's the natives I'm worried about,” Camilla nods slowly, “Now that the White Tyrant has fallen, it seems like countless numbers of them are emerging from hiding – some hostile, some not. Most of them seem content to become citizens of the Free States, and that's where my work starts. Chances are, some of those “new citizens” are just as hostile as the barbarians. Spies, saboteurs, witches and murderers... every damn problem we had in Port Steyr is about to get a dozen times worse.”

Busy, you point out, is quite the understatement.

“That's why I've got to head back, do my share of the hard work,” offering you a weary smile, Camilla continues, “At least Loch is taking things seriously. He understands how dangerous these groups are, and how quickly they need to be destroyed.”

You consider the morning news, and the wave of arrests it described. Loch, it seems, has been busy digging out the remains of the conspiracy. A smuggling ring, that was how the men had been described, not a word about any larger schemes. Perfect control over the flow of information – that's Loch's style, no question about it. Well, you're not about to dispute it, you're just happy to finally wash your hands of it all. You've got a feeling that Camilla might not be the only one who's going to be busy soon. Gut instinct, but you've leaned to listen to your gut by now.

“Well, here we are,” as Camilla nods across to the station, her smile warms, “I'll see you around, Henryk. Next time you're up in Port Steyr, we'll talk some more... if I can get a few minutes. You'll be careful, right?”

Of course, you assure her with a remarkably straight face, you're always careful.

For a moment it looks as though Camilla is about to say something else but then, with a firm nod, she turns and strides into the station.

>>1014028

As you're walking slowly back to your tenement, you think more on Camilla's words. In your mind's eye, you see the light of civilisation slowly spreading across the northern territories. Nomadic tribes and their humble dwellings would be replaced by paved streets and concrete structures, while the native faiths – ancient in so many ways – would fade quietly into obscurity. It feels like a bleak vision of the future, when you consider it in such terms, but you know that there will be advantages as well. Less raiding and pillaging, for one thing.

Still, it casts the rest of the night in a rather melancholy tone – or was it Camilla's departure, rather than her words, that was to be blamed for your dour mood?

No matter. Let the future devour itself like some rabid dog, if that's what lies ahead – you're just one man, you can't be responsible for every single thing. You and your own, that's all you have to look out for.

-

“Looks like it's just you and me again, huh?” Lize remarks as you sit heavily down at the table, “Unless you were planning on bringing home some more waifs and strays? Hey, you bring a Snake over here, and you'll have had the full set!”

Maybe so, you agree, but you're not in the habit of inviting Scholars back for dinner.

“Yeah,” the young Dragon's face sours, “Can't really blame you there, I... oh, oh wait!” Snapping her fingers suddenly, Lize stands sharply upright and fetches a small slip of paper from the kitchen. A neatly printed address, with a name added in that same precise hand. The name is...

Hyde, you read aloud, Alyssia passed the address along?

“Yeah, she said that he said that you... wait, let me start that again,” Lize frowns, slowing to a more understandable speed and choosing her words carefully, “Hyde told Alyssia that you might want to meet up, and she got his address. Then I got it, and so now you've got it. There – easy, right? Gotta say though, I'm kinda surprised – I thought they'd just shack up together. Well... none of my business, I guess.”

But she's curious, you remark, right?

“Oh sure, absolutely,” Lize doesn't even bother to pretend otherwise, “I'll be relying on you to get all the gory details, okay?”

So it's come to this, you think to yourself, gossip and relationship drama. Still, you had been meaning to catch up with a few people and, starting from the morning, you'll have plenty of free time ahead of you. Where, then, to go first?

>Alyssia. You've got Hartmann's idol to show her
>Hyde. You've got a lot to catch up with
>Iosefka. She'll be able to explain those notes
>Other

>>1014029
>>Alyssia. You've got Hartmann's idol to show her
We're here anyways.

>>1014029
>Alyssia. You've got Hartmann's idol to show her

>>1014029
>>Alyssia. You've got Hartmann's idol to show her
night

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When morning comes, you decide, you'll head next door and see Alyssia. There's Hartmann's little souvenir to consider if nothing else – you'd like to see what she makes of it. Now that you think about it, you realise, you've not even looked at the thing since you first got it. You were either too busy or too exposed to the public eye. Now that you're home, in the privacy of these four walls, you might be able to give it a proper examination.

Sitting heavily on your bed – the mattress, you note bitterly, is still not quite right – you open up Hartmann's pack and take out the figure. Crudely hewn from dark wood, it only have the merest suggestion of a human form or human features. Indents that might well be eye sockets, a ridge that might well be a nose... they almost seem like afterthoughts. The real focus was on the third eye, set into the figure's chest and sewn shut. It's almost unreal how skilfully the third eye has been rendered, so much so that you almost expect to feel rough cord under your fingers when you touch the stitches. The overall effect is faintly unnerving, but not in any supernatural way. It doesn't whisper to you or send a tingle of power through your fingers – it's just a wooden idol. Setting it aside for now, you take out the only other thing Hartmann packed for you – a fat envelope, the waxed paper thick enough as to be completely opaque. Tearing open the envelope, you unfold the letter and read it carefully.

-

Mementos?

Shaking out the envelope, you find what Hartmann had been referring to. A few photographs showing the group expedition, when you visited the old temple. Of course, you recall, Isabella had a camera – you'd been so focused on discussion legends with Solberg that you hadn't noticed her flitting about taking pictures of whatever took her fancy. You're even in a few of the pictures... well, your back is. Rast himself is only in one of the pictures, and even then his face is obscured, hidden behind a raised palm. Clever, you decide, exactly the sort of precaution you would expect from him.

Show those to Lize later, you mutter to yourself as you lie back in bed, she'll probably find them interesting – or she'll laugh at your damn tan.

-

Morning finds you knocking lightly at Alyssia's door, the idol – hidden inside its original pack, of course – tucked under your arm. She answers it promptly, but you'd be lying if you didn't notice the flicker of disappointment in her eyes. She was expecting someone else, apparently.

“Henryk, good morning,” the disappointment quickly fades – or is quickly covered up – and the witch gestures for you to enter, “What a coincidence, I'd just put on a pot of tea. Take a seat, we can chat once that's finished.”

Shifting the weight of the pack slightly, you accept the invitation.

[1/2]

>>1014029
>Hey, you bring a Snake over here, and you'll have had the full set!”
She's the best.

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>>1014045

Things really have changed while you were away – she's actually cleaned up her apartment. Most of the junk has been either thrown out or at least tidied away. Without the piles of old books and random garbage, her apartment seems much bigger. Not empty, however – a new table and several chairs have replaced much of the ramshackle possessions. It's nice to be able to sit down without clearing a space, but you decide against mentioning as much.

“I'll bet this is the first proper cup of tea you'll have had since coming back,” Alyssia remarks lightly as she bustles about in the kitchen, “It must be awful down there, I've heard bad things about the food. Very bad things – did you eat okay?”

You weren't exactly in the wilderness, you tell her, there were plenty of places to get a cooked meal – and not just cooked over a campfire either.

“Oh, right,” offering you a vaguely bemused smile, Alyssia brings over a tray, “I thought it was all jungle down there. All very wild and overgrown. That's what I'd heard, at least.” Shaking her head, she sets out two cups and pours fragrant tea into both.

It's not all like that, you continue, no more than the north is all wasteland and ice. The far north might be, but so is the distant south. In either case, you mostly stuck to the civilised areas – relatively civilised, at least. That was where your business took you, so that's where you went. Simple really.

“I see,” taking a sip of her tea, Alyssia tries to hide a curious glance across at the pack you set down at your feet. Tries to hide – she's like a child trying not to peek at a birthday gift.

>It's an idol from down south. I wondered if you could take a look at it for me
>So how have things been here? Any strange dreams while I was away?
>Seen Hyde lately?
>Other

>>1014060
>>It's an idol from down south. I wondered if you could take a look at it for me
>>So how have things been here? Any strange dreams while I was away?

>>1014060
>It's an idol from down south. I wondered if you could take a look at it for me
>So how have things been here? Any strange dreams while I was away?

>>1014060
>>1014062
This

>>1014060
>It's an idol from down south. I wondered if you could take a look at it for me
>So how have things been here? Any strange dreams while I was away?
>Get her thoughts on the creation story. The flower and humans, the tree and the Giants/Knights/Artemis

It's an idol from down south, you tell her, you were wondering if she could take a look at it for you. It's her kind of thing, isn't it?

“Well, uh, maybe,” Alyssia frowns faintly, “I can certainly take a look at it, but I can't promise anything. What kind of idol is it, exactly?”

Supposedly something devoted to a protective spirit, you take out Hartmann's letter and hand it over as you explain, the locals would ask for it to protect them against harmful spirits. All part of the local traditions, more personal than northern superstition. Their spirits have faces and names, personalities even – enough that men are said to be able to cut deals with some of them. You spoke with a few people while you were in the south, and they all seemed to believe that such totems have some kind of power.

“A protective spirit,” murmuring those words to herself, Alyssia skims over the letter, “Interesting. Do you really think that it might work this far north? I... don't really know much about southern folklore.”

There's only one way to find out, you decide with a shrug, your friend describes a ritual there – performing it might give you an answer. You've got everything that you'd need for it, right down to the local brew thanks to Escher's thoughtful parting gift. Anyway, you add as you lift the idol up onto the table, this is the totem itself. Strange looking thing, isn't it?

“I'll say!” setting aside her teacup, Alyssia leans in to take a closer look at the totem, “This craftsmanship is very... unusual.”

As she studies the idol, you pick a topic at random to keep the silence from growing stale and thick. Has there been anything strange happening up here, you ask, or has she had any strange dreams?

“I wouldn't say anything strange has been happening here – oh, but I did hear about some Hunter business down in Artyom – but... dreams?” looking up from the idol, Alyssia frowns at you, “How did you know about those?”

Lucky guess, you shrug. So she has been dreaming?

“Yes, of her. She never talked to me – we don't, ah, talk much these days – but I could feel something. Excitement, anticipation, something like that. Every time, when I woke up I felt...” flushing faintly, Alyssia clears her throat, “Well, it doesn't really matter how I felt. I feel like something has changed, or maybe that something is about to change. Ah, I'm not making any sense, am I?”

You consider her words in silence for a moment. Maybe Artemis is growing stronger, reaching out and touching the minds of those she has invited to Nihilo. Or maybe, you think, she isn't doing it on purpose – could she even be aware of it? Artemis never mentioned anything about this when you saw her last, but that doesn't necessarily mean anything.

Interesting.

[1/2]

>>1014084

“So what else did you learn down south?” Alyssia asks as she continues to examine the totem from all angles, “You seem different, if you don't mind me saying so. Like you've had a change of heart or something like that.”

Are you different? It's a question that takes you by surprise, but less so the more you think about it. True enough, the Free States don't feel the same as they used to – perhaps you're the on who has changed, and not them. Either way, it's not a question you can easily – or perhaps ever – answer. You did learn a few things, you tell Alyssia after a thoughtful pause, some pretty interesting stories. A creation myth, for example, a tale of how everything began. The great tree, with the Giants as its inhuman children, and a flower of the south. When you notice that Alyssia's eyes are wide with fascination, you falteringly recount the entire story in as much detail as you can recall.

“Wow,” she murmurs eventually, “That's some story.”

It really is, you agree, what does she think of it?

“You mean, do I believe it?” the witch mulls over her answer, “I don't know. It's not really something that can be proved, is it? Creation myths are like that... all myths really. I must admit, my own mother never had a good answer when I asked where we all came from. Her idea of a creation myth was that we all just crawled out of holes in the ground!” Laughing faintly, Alyssia finishes the dregs of her now-cooling tea. “Oh, wait, hang on. A flower, you said?”

A flower that created both men and spirits, you tell her with a nod, right. Something familiar about that?

“When I was a young girl, a traveller visited my village. He was a northerner, but he had this amazing tattoo on his back – a giant flower, spreading right across his entire back!” she smiles faintly at the memory, “Well, for a young girl, he seemed magical. I asked him about it, and he just told me that everything begins and ends with flowers. That's all he said, that was the only answer he could give me. My mother, well, she just said he was a madman. That wasn't necessarily an insult, mind you, just... a warning, reminding me not to take him too seriously.”

Everything ends with flowers, you repeat slowly, that doesn't sound good.

“Now I think about it, it does sound pretty unsettling,” frowning softly, Alyssia taps a finger against her empty teacup, “I wonder if he knew more than he said. Maybe he was just repeating what he was told. Well, he's hardly in any position to answer any questions now – he'll be dust by now, after all these years.”

[2/3]

>>1014114

After that, you both fall into a thoughtful silence with nothing for either of you to add. You've both reached the limits of your knowledge, or so it seems. Conversation only picks up again when you mention the wild child to Alyssia.

“Artemis, Arktis, whichever name you want to use... yes, I think she might very well be this child. It all fits, if the myths are true,” sighing softly, Alyssia slumps in her seat, “Myths... that's all we have. If only we'd written down more of our knowledge! Spoken history is so tenuous, so easy to lose. When I think of how much knowledge we might never be able to recover... it's sad, don't you think?”

By contrast, you point out, you've seen the League's attitude towards preserving knowledge and paperwork. Huge stacks of the stuff, piled high and forgotten. Just because knowledge is written down doesn't mean it can't be lost, it's just lost in a different way. With so many documents filed away, secrets can easily slip into obscurity.

“Well, maybe,” Alyssia tilts her head to the side, “Would you leave this totem here? I want to spend a little more time with it, see if I can... feel anything. No, not feel anything, but... oh, it's hard to explain. I won't damage it, and you can have it right back if you need it, I promise!”

Just be careful with it, you warn her, you're not sure what these totems are capable of.

“Oh, of course. I'll be very careful,” a short pause, “And, uh, you said that you had some of that local liquor. Do you think, perhaps...”

Fine, you sigh, you'll fetch the jug. But this stuff, you add, this might well be more dangerous than the totem itself.

-

After sloshing a measure of the potent mazka into a large glass and handing it over to Alyssia, she sniffs it and makes a horrified face. “People drink this?” she gasps, “And they don't... die?”

Well, you point out, some of them do die – like you said, it's dangerous stuff. She'll be okay here?

“I'll be okay,” she assures you, grim determination settling over her features, “But I might need some time alone. Would you mind...”

Her words are polite, but that doesn't change their meaning - “please leave now”. Well, that's fine – you've got plenty of other things to do today. Finishing off your cold tea, you rise and strt to leave. Next...

>Visit Hyde
>Visit Iosefka
>Head back to Lize
>Ask some last questions... (Write in)
>Other

>>1014155
>>Visit Hyde

>>1014155
>Visit Hyde
>Say Alyssia is missing him.

>>1014155
>Visit Hyde

Once you're out in the corridor, you take out the address Lize gave you and give it a quick look. Hyde's new home seems to be in one of the rougher parts of the capital. Not exactly slums, but close – rough enough that even your tenement, old and falling apart as it may be, seems like a luxurious alternative. Considering that Ilse could afford to buy a bar of her own, Hyde surely could have afforded better accommodations. Why, then, did he choose a place on the wrong side of the tracks?

You'll just have to ask him that, you decide, when you pay him a visit. You've got a lot of things to ask him.

-

Raising your collar against the cold wind, you start to pace through the capital streets. By day, they feel very different – bustling with a nervous energy that stems from something you can't quite pinpoint. Maybe it was always like this, and you're only seeing it now with fresh eyes. Once again, you're drawn back to Alyssia's question – have you changed?

You've all changed, all of the Wolves that took part in the attack on Port Tyrant. Ilse has settled down, Hyde has grown evasive while Krebs has passed away... or so you've been told.

As you walk, the streets around you seem to undergo a gruesome transition, growing tighter and darker with every step you take. Age shows on the buildings around you like a sprawling web of wrinkles, each dusty crack and patch of crumbling masonry giving the impression of impending decay. A while longer and the lofty tenements are replaced by squat buildings, crowded together with a gleeful disregard for order or planning. With faint dismay, you realise that this is the sort of squalor that breeds disease and invites disaster – disasters like the one that led to Rast's fall from grace. Shaking your head sadly, you check the address again and alter your route slightly. You're close now, but that hardly offers much comfort.

-

Maybe it's just your imagination, but you feel eyes upon you as you reach Hyde's ramshackle home. A sign hangs on the door, and you can't stop yourself from snorting out bitter laughter at the message it bears - “Beware of the Dog”.

Hilarious really. Clearing the smirk from your face, you knock on the door and wait. And then you wait some more. It feels like a long time before Hyde opens the door and peers out at you with reddened, bleary eyes. It's hard to guess how he feels about seeing you here – his face is a closed book, a cypher.

Nice sign, you tell him as an introduction.

“What sign?” Hyde rasps in response, his face darkening when you point to it, “Ugh, those damn kids again...” Tearing the sign down, he holds it for a moment before opening the door wider and nodding for you to enter.

[1/2]

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>>1014233

Nice place he's got here, you mention as you enter. Hyde's home is as bleak as you've come to expect from a Hunter's dwelling, with barely anything in the way of creature comforts. In a way, it looks more like a workshop than a home, with a pair of long desks taking up most of the empty space. Stray bits of woodwork or handicrafts are dotted about one, while a fine rifle is half assembled on the second desk. One wall is adorned with a noticeboard of soft cork, several newspaper articles pinned to it. The coverage of Port Tyrant, you realise as you look them over.

“It's as nice as it needs to be,” Hyde grimaces, rubbing a hand across his bald scalp. He manages to look worse in the low light, the gloomy house piling several more years onto his face.

Alyssia misses him, you say bluntly, she's pining away.

“She's sweet,” this softens Hyde's expression, although it can't wash away the bitterness in his eyes, “But I'm not fit to play house at the moment. It's all a damn mess, Henryk.”

As you wait for him to elaborate on that, you read some of the news clippings. They're as vague as you've been led to believe, without so much as a single name. Certainly, there's no way that they could bring you any kind of fame. When you've read the last clipping and Hyde still hasn't spoken, you realise that he'll need prompting. Alright then, you sigh, what's a mess?

“Me, for one thing,” touching a hand to unshaven cheeks, Hyde gestures to an empty seat. As you sit, he paces the room. “Tyrant, it was a mess. Bad, real bad. Even after my arm was better, I could barely settle. Playing happy families with Alyssia was nice – for a while – but that was just pretending. It didn't take long for it all to fall apart. All it took was...”

He trails off here, busying himself with fetching a pair of dirty glasses and a bottle of something that smells like rubbing alcohol. As he pours, you hear the distant sound of a gunshot, of shattering glass. Hyde doesn't even flinch.

“Word of advice, Henryk,” he grunts, “Someone around here offers to play cards, you let them win. You get some damn sore losers in these parts.”

What a charming place this is.

>Why are you out here in this... slum?
>It was Krebs, wasn't it? He passed, and you're still reeling
>Does it bother you, getting none of the credit for Port Tyrant?
>I need to ask you something... (Write in)
>Other

>>1014272
>Why are you out here in this... slum?

>>1014272
>>Why are you out here in this... slum?
"Look I'm not one to talk about living frugally when I don't need to, but you can do way better than here. What's wrong with an apartment complex in the city?"

>It was Krebs, wasn't it? He passed, and you're still reeling

Doubt it's the third option.

>>1014272
>>It was Krebs, wasn't it? He passed, and you're still reeling

>>1014272
>>Why are you out here in this... slum?
>>It was Krebs, wasn't it? He passed, and you're still reeling

Why is he out here, you ask as you gesture around at the dingy house, living in this... this slum? Living frugally, you can understand – you can hardly call anyone out for living like that, considering your own lifestyle – but he can do way better than a place like this. What's wrong with a tenement, you ask, something that's properly in the city?

“A place like this is dangerous,” Hyde says after a while, his voice flat and ambiguous.

It sure is, you agree, considering the gunshot that you both heard a moment ago!

“No, not that kind of danger. Beasts. They hit places like these worse than the tenements and the apartment blocks. It's really bad when the storms are blowing, but even without a storm... people die here, killed in their own homes,” grimacing, Hyde throws back his drink and starts to toy with the disassembled rifle, “Guards don't often come out this far. If there's trouble, folks here need someone to keep them safe. That's where I come in.”

Dangerous work for just one man, you say carefully, the folks here better appreciate everything he's doing for them.

“Like hell they do. They don't even look me in the eye when we pass in the street,” sitting, lying the rifle flat across his knees, Hyde traces some of the engravings with an idle finger, “Doesn't matter much. I've got a job to do here, even if puts me at risk. Even if it costs me my life.”

And that's what he wants, you realise, that's what he's looking for – the beast that's going to kill him. Why else would be cut himself off from the world and hole up in a place like this? He's like a wounded animal, crawling off to die where nothing can find it. Something must have caused this bleak mood, and you know exactly what it was. It was Krebs, you guess, wasn't it? He passed away, and Hyde is still trying to pick up the pieces.

Hyde is silent for a long time, looking down at the rifle before finally meeting your eyes. Seeming to reach some decision, he nods and starts to talk. “Hyde came to find me. Hell if I know how, I was staying at a hotel at the time, but he just lumbered up and knocked on my door. I guess maybe he caught my scent, found me that way,” a pause as Hyde considers his next words carefully, “He told me that he was going to vanish soon.”

Vanish, you repeat, not die?

“He wanted me to tell everyone who cared – which amounted to less than a handful of people, by the way – that he was dead. He died quietly, and the body was cremated. Everything according to League regulations,” Hyde reaches for the bottle before reconsidering and drawing his hand back, “I need you to keep this quiet, Henryk. Not just quiet, silent, you get me? This is bad business, I knew that from the moment Krebs turned up at my door.”

You can keep a secret, you promise him, you're good at keeping secrets.

[1/2]

>>1014331

“After Tyrant, someone came to Krebs with an offer,” Hyde licks his lips slowly, casting a longing glance at the bottle, “I can't tell you who. I wager that Krebs couldn't have told you who either. Offer was simple – they wanted to test something out, and it would either cure him or kill him. Nice choice, right? Well, you know Krebs – that kind of offer wouldn't scare him, he wouldn't even bat an eyelid at it. Either way, he'd win, see?”

So he took the offer, you guess, and then he wanted to disappear afterwards.

“The way I see it, he wanted a fresh start. Even if he was cured, he still had a shitty reputation hanging over him. You remember what Ilse was like, and she's a Wolf as well. Regular folk, they wouldn't stand for it. He'd be run out of whichever town he tried to settle in. A fresh start, a clean slate... that would give him a chance, at least,” shaking his head, Hyde nods towards the bottle. Guessing his intention, you take it and return it to a cupboard on the opposite side of the room. When you return, Hyde seems a little calmer. “I wish I'd talked him out of it, you know,” he says suddenly, “When he came to see me, I should have talked him out of it.”

It wouldn't have changed anything, you point out, Krebs was at the end of the road. He knew that, and that's why he wagered his life on this mad hope of a cure.

“Sure, I know that. Doesn't mean I don't feel guilty about it though,” Hyde scowls, “So now I'm here, thinking... thinking that maybe I can keep people safe this way. Or maybe I'm keeping busy because it's better than thinking about this crap. Can you blame me for trying to shut it all out, for turning my back on it all?”

>Think carefully Hyde, did Krebs say anything else about this offer?
>You're turning your back on Alyssia as well, you know
>You're a Hunter, and you're here to perform your duties. I can respect that decision
>Other

>>1014372
>Think carefully Hyde, did Krebs say anything else about this offer?
WE'RE the one searching for the blood cure around here!

>>1014372
>>You're turning your back on Alyssia as well, you know

>>1014372
>>Think carefully Hyde, did Krebs say anything else about this offer?

"You're selfishly pursuing selflessness. That'd be almost funny if the situation wasn't so dire. Look Hyde, you have more time than both me and Krebs. He'd want you to make the most of it instead of wallowing away here. I sure as hell am. If you want to save people here, fine, but make sure it's for the right reasons instead of being guilty and running away from your problems. And remember you DO have people that will care that you die. This isn't really fair for them either."

>>1014372
>Think carefully Hyde, did Krebs say anything else about this offer?
>You're turning your back on Alyssia as well, you know
Duty is all well and good, but don't forget you're still human.

Think carefully, you tell Hyde firmly, did Krebs say anything else about this offer? Was there anything about him that seemed off, anything that caught Hyde's attention?

“What, do you think I'm holding back on you? I've told you everything I know, and you're still...” anger starts to flare in Hyde's eyes before it is suddenly quashed. A faint look of confusion is quick to replace the anger, and his shoulders slump.

So there was something, you deduce, what was it?

“It's... nothing, barely anything,” shaking his head slowly, Hyde thinks for a moment, “It was his coat, of all things. You remember it, right?”

His thick coat, you mutter as you think back to Tyrant, that thing smelled like a dead bear.

“He never went anywhere without it,” Hyde smiles slightly at the memory, “Except when he visited me for that last time. He was wearing something else, an oilskin. Waterproof, you know? Before you ask, it had no markings on it – nothing that I remember seeing, at least.” His face clouds over again as the anger returns, although this time it's directed inwards, as if he should have been more careful. “I had other things on my mind,” he mutters to himself, “You're damn lucky I noticed that coat at all. Now, are we finished here?”

Rising from the seat, you start for the door before pausing. Hiding out here, you tell him quietly, he's turning his back on a lot of things – Alyssia among them. When you said that she was missing him, you weren't joking around. She's hurting because of this stubborn act.

“I'm needed here,” the Hunter argues, “There are a lot of good people here, even if you don't believe that. I need to do my duty.”

This is ridiculous, you laugh bitterly, this is the most selfish pursuit of selflessness that you've ever seen. He needs to realise something – he has more time than you do, and a hell of a lot more time than Krebs ever had, but he's using that time to wallow in self-pity. Krebs would want him to make the most of the time he has left. You're certainly making the most of the time you have left. Duty is fine, but not when it comes at the cost of his humanity.

“So you're saying I should abandon my duty in order to... what, spend my days bedding women?” Hyde sneers at the idea.

Duty is fine, you repeat, but only if he does it for the right reasons. Protecting people is all well and good, but he's not interested in protecting people – he's just running away. Running away from his problems, AND from the people who care about him. It's not fair on them, and it's not fair on the people he's pretending to protect.

Hyde has no answer to this, simply staring off into space. Whatever thoughts might be swirling behind his eyes, he's keeping them to himself.

Think about it, you tell him quietly before letting yourself out.

[1/2]

>>1014477
damm it forgot to add his going ot end up like Krebs like this

>>1014522
We've given him plenty to think about.

>>1014477

It's hard to know if your words had any impact on Hyde, but you're quietly confident about them. If nothing else, you've probably swayed him enough to give life with Alyssia another try. In either case, you've said your piece – it's up to him to decide his next move. If he wants to sit in his hovel and rot, that's his decision. Maybe it's the lingering memory of your conversation, or maybe it's just the general air of decay and dilapidation that surrounds the neighbourhood, but you find your mood darkening as you walk. It's only when the streets widen once more that you start to feel a little better.

Hyde, you consider, is not a stupid man. He'll see sense eventually, even if takes him an age. A bit of quiet reflection is what he needs, and that's exactly what you've given him. Having reached that decision, you turn your thoughts to what lies ahead. In this case, a long walk back to your tenement.

A short detour would see you to the Medicine, and Iosefka. On the other hand, this day is already starting to wear on you. Maybe it would be best to head back home for now.

>Head to the Medicine and speak with Iosefka
>Head back to the apartment for now
>Other

>>1014548
>>Head to the Medicine and speak with Iosefka

>>1014548
>Head to the Medicine and speak with Iosefka

>>1014548
>>Head to the Medicine and speak with Iosefka
5 bucks Krebs joined Glorious' group.

>>1014548
>>Head to the Medicine and speak with Iosefka
Wrap things up so we can be done for the day. Might as well go there while we're already in a somewhat bad mood so we don't ruin a mood another day.

>>1014548
>Head to the Medicine and speak with Iosefka

>>1014548
>Head back to the apartment for now

>>1014548
>Head to the Medicine and speak with Iosefka

File: Iosefka.jpg (25 KB, 432x600)

25 KB JPG

Hell, maybe a drink is exactly what you need right now, and paying a little visit to the Medicine would let you cross one last item off your list. Besides, you're already in something of a bad mood – heading there now would get all your unwelcome business over and done with. Better to finish things today and enjoy tomorrow. That is, of course, assuming that nothing else goes wrong. Not exactly a safe assumption these days – or any day, really.

-

At the very least, nothing goes wrong as you take the detour to the Medicine. It's usually quiet at this time of day, almost deserted in fact, and you're somewhat grateful for that. It'll make it easier to have a discrete conversation, one without any prying eyes or eager ears. Well, except perhaps the eyes and ears of Iosefka's diligent little assistant, but she's mostly harmless. For now. As if merely thinking about her had been enough to summon the girl, you see her outside the Medicine, sweeping the front steps as if it was the most natural thing in the world. For her, it might well be.

The mute girl doesn't look up as you pass her by, pushing the door open and stepping into the cool, dimly lit bar. It's not just quiet today, it's totally empty – save for Iosefka behind the bar, reading a trashy novel with near-total disinterest. When you clear your throat, she looks up and her face freezes. The moment passes, and then she offers a crooked smile.

“Hey, there you are,” she jokes, “Here to save my business.”

Funny, you grunt as you slide onto one of the stools, she's always got her line in stolen documents to fall back on.

“Ouch,” the former doctor winces, “I suppose I deserved that one.” Sighing sadly, she takes a glass and pours dark beer into it. The third person you've visited today, you muse, and they've all offered you a drink. As you start working on the beer, Iosefka slips a bookmark into her novel and tucks it beneath the bar. “Look, Henryk, I'll be straight with you. If I had any idea what Eliza was going into, I wouldn't have sent her. I'm not asking you to forgive me, but I just want you to know that.”

But she did know it was dangerous, you say slowly, right?

“...Yes,” the admission is a quiet one, “I won't deny that. Not dangerous enough to kill over, nowhere near that bad. I thought it would be easy, especially for Eliza. She's a brave kid you know, I don't think many girls her age would be able to deal with... what she had to deal with. Look, I'm to blame here, I accept that. I don't want that to ruin anything between us. You're a friend, Henryk, and I don't like to lose friends.”

>No, it's not your fault. You didn't know
>We'll call it a truce for now. That's all I can offer
>It's too late for that. You lost me when you sent Eliza up there
>Other

>>1014666
>>We'll call it a truce for now. That's all I can offer
We can make it after brooding on it for a while longer.

>>1014666
>>We'll call it a truce for now. That's all I can offer

>>1014666
Admission is good. She didn't play it off like I thought she might.
>We'll call it a truce for now. That's all I can offer
At least the conspirators are getting fucked in the ass doubly now.

Call it a truce for now, you decide after a thoughtful pause, that's the best you can offer her right now.

“A truce. I can work with that,” relief creeps into Iosefka's features, her slight smile warming and taking on a more natural ease, “A working relationship, perhaps?”

Purely professional, you warn her, mutual cooperation.

“I can work with that,” she repeats, “Say, I was curious – how much of those notes did you actually read?”

Not a lot, you admit, you were focussed on copying them out as quickly as possible – you didn't really have time to read anything. What you did read, you didn't really understand much. That was part of the reason you came here, actually, to see if she understood them. From what you could tell, it was something to do with cleansing the blood, curing men of their curses. Is that accurate?

“More or less, yes, although it's not quite so clear cut,” tapping a finger against her thin lips, Iosefka takes a moment to plan out her approach, “A lot of the notes were incoherent, even for a Scholar. What I did understand, however, worried me. First off, the research was based off two specimens – neither of which were entirely human. First specimen, samples of flesh and blood – a finger, being specific - from an unknown creature.”

The deformed child, you muse. Even though the memories have taken on the contorted feeling of a dream, you still remember killing it. What did they learn from the first specimen?

“It's pretty unpleasant,” she warns you, “The flesh and blood recovered both shared one anomalous feature – they were still, technically, alive. Apparently, the blood still expressed signs of vitality, and the flesh proved remarkably resistant to decay. Overall, it gave the impression of a creature that had functional immortality... until someone killed it.”

Immortality, you breath. You can well understand the value of that research, and why men might kill to possess it. What about the second specimen, you ask after a moment, what was it? You only remember one creature brought back from the north.

“Male humanoid, the most notable deviation from natural human form being height and muscle mass,” quoting from memory, Iosefka pronounces her words with surgical precision, “The body was recovered more or less intact. The blood showed a remarkable amount of Dragon in it, but... different. Not quite comparable to the usual noble blood, or so the report reads. I can't even begin to imagine how they managed to find THAT out. Essentially, the blood showed signs of stasis, as if all degradation had been halted. Not a cure, but prevention. Some might consider that even better.”

[1/2]

>>1014792
White Tyrant? Somehow stopping blood progression does sound neat.

>>1014792
>“Male humanoid, the most notable deviation from natural human form being height and muscle mass,
>The blood showed a remarkable amount of Dragon in it, but... different.

They found an intact Knight corpse?

>>1014819
blood born and the healing blood is about to happen

>>1014792

A Dragon, you muse, unusually tall and exhibiting strange physical features...

Huh. So that's what happened to the White Tyrant's body. You did wonder about that.

So, you ask quietly, did these notes explain why this blood was different? How the degeneration had been halted?

“Not in scientific terms, no,” Iosefka shakes her head, “But apparently, some of the researcher interviewed a number of northern barbarians, to try and get background information on the recovered cadaver. It was a fairly common legend that the body, the White Tyrant, walked beneath the red moon in the far north. That would kill most men, or so they claimed, but he was not a normal man. Pure folklore, of course, but the notes suggest that they were planning on examining the body further, to try and determine the real cause. There's an interesting note there, actually.”

You're not sure that her idea of “interesting” is the same as yours, you grumble, but fine – what was this note?
“It was “Send samples to G.S.” That's all,” shrugging, Iosefka offers you an apologetic smile, “Those initials are never mentioned again, so I have to assume that either this G.S never replied or they never got the samples in the first place. The initials don't mean anything to you, do they?”

You would be lying if you claimed that the sound of those initials didn't cause you to groan. Your first thought, of course, is “Saive”. Maybe that's just paranoia speaking – there are, after all, a great many surnames that begin with S. Solberg, Stukov – a particularly common surname – and Sokolov to name just a few. Still...

“Of course, it might not be a name. A place, a map reference, even a codeword,” sighing, Iosefka sweeps up your empty glass and passes it idly from one hand to the other, “Context clues are everything, and we just don't have any. Terrible shame really.”

Right, you murmur, that IS a shame.

“We do what we can,” nodding gravely, the former doctor glances around as the door clatters. Her assistant shuffles quietly inside and through to the back room, ignoring the both of you. “Well then, class,” she jokes, “Any questions?”

>No questions, I've got enough of a headache already
>What do you think the Ministry would do with this research?
>Did they mention what happened to the second specimen?
>Say, have you heard from Vas lately?
>I did have a question... (Write in)
>Other

>>1014889
>What do you think the Ministry would do with this research?
>>Did they mention what happened to the second specimen?
>>Say, have you heard from Vas lately?

Well we can just ask Tyrant about his travels in Nihilo. Perks of the job.

>>1014889
>>Say, have you heard from Vas lately?
>What do you think the Ministry would do with this research?
>walking that far north puts a pause on your blood
Well that's handy, we can take our sweet time hunting down a giant up there then.

>>1014889
>>Say, have you heard from Vas lately?

>>1014889
>What do you think the Ministry would do with this research?
>Did they mention what happened to the second specimen?
>Say, have you heard from Vas lately?

This second specimen, you ask, do the notes mention what happened with it? Was the cadaver destroyed, or...

“Hmm, now you mention it, they don't specify. Considering how unique the specimen is, I wouldn't be surprised if it was being kept in the College for further study. Or, if not the College, somewhere less... public. I don't doubt that the College has its own secret places hidden away,” Iosefka laughs softly, although there is no humour to it, “Ridiculously illegal, of course, but that's why they're secret. What the Ministry doesn't know can't hurt it – I can't tell you how often I heard people suggest that while I was in the College. Awful really, its a dangerous mindset to have.”

No shit, you mutter. Speaking of the Ministry, though, you were wondering – what would the Ministry do if they got their hands on this research?

“Nothing,” Iosefka's answer is blunt, “I can state that with absolute certainty – there's not enough solid proof and too much wild conjecture for the Ministry to even consider this as a valid project. If someone cut out all the folklore and speculation, replacing it with research and careful studies, then – and only then – the Ministry might take it seriously. Until then, these notes are good for nothing more than destroying your career as a Scholar.”

There's something vaguely reassuring about that – whatever else happens, these notes won't cause any more damage than they're already responsible for.

“I'll tell you this, though,” lowering her voice, Iosefka leans forwards, “If the Ministry wasn't keeping an eye on things, you can be sure that this research would get a lot of attention. Scholars have a habit of getting desperate when they start to age – they'll take any chance that might extend their lives for a few extra years. I dare say that Hunters aren't all that different... right?”

Her question makes you think of Krebs, and his last mad hope – be killed, or be cured. Instead of answering, you ask a question of your own. A nice change of subject, moving back onto safer ground. Say, you ask, has she heard from Vas lately? Has he been up to anything exciting?

“He writes often enough, thankfully, but he's certainly not doing anything exciting,” with a light twinkling sound, Iosefka laughs, “He's in the map business these days. He spends his time slowly following the coast as his passengers take careful notes. The pay is good and it's safe enough, but he's bored out of his mind apparently. You ought to head up to Port Steyr some time and raise some hell, that would perk him up somewhat.”

The idea, you have to admit, has a certain appeal.

[1/2]

>>1014889
>>Did they mention what happened to the second specimen?

>>1015003

After the conversation trails off, you linger for a while longer. When Iosefka's assistant starts to set up one of her countless oversized musical instruments, you take that as your cue to leave. As you're heading out, Iosefka softly calls out your name.

“Thank you,” she tells you when you turn back to her, “I mean it, Henryk. I'm glad that we can be civil, at least. Tell Eliza that I'm sorry, won't you? It might not mean much, but she deserves that much.”

You'll do that, you assure her, you'll tell her that.

-

Having left the Medicine, you make your way back to the tenement. Overall, you'd call this a successful day – no major disasters, and you learned a few interesting things. Maybe not the best day in your life, but far from the worst. At least you've got a long, relaxing afternoon ahead of you, that'll be something to look forwards to.

Hell, you think with a weary smile, you feel like an old man. Too much time taking it easy, not enough time on the Hunt. If you don't get back to work soon, you might as well retire. Settle down like Ilse. An amusing idea, but an impossible one – even without official League business, you've still got work to do. Whining and complaining won't change any of that – better to just knuckle down and deal with it.

-

When you return home, Lize is in the middle of barking out a derisive laugh. “Get a load of this guy,” she immediately declares, pointing at the book in her hands, “He's a damn liar is what he is. Hell of a storyteller, but I'd check if he wrote that the sky was blue.”

It takes you a moment to catch up and realise that she's talking about the book she's reading. The author, you presume, was not one to let the truth get in the way of a good story.

“Got that right. Got this book from the College, see, and I can see why people keep shifting it to the fiction section. Apparently, this guy walked on every single island in the north. Load of crap is what it is,” she laughs again, pointing an accusing finger at the book, “Toval, you're a damn liar!”

You've never seen someone accuse a book of being a liar before. There's a first time for everything, apparently.

>You never know. The truth can be stranger than fiction sometimes
>He doesn't mention anything about flowers, does he?
>I met Iosefka today. She wanted you to know that she's sorry about what happened
>Other

>>1015128
>>He doesn't mention anything about flowers, does he?
>I met Iosefka today. She wanted you to know that she's sorry about what happened

>>1015128
>You never know. The truth can be stranger than fiction sometimes
"I mean look whats been happening all around me this past few months."

>He doesn't mention anything about flowers, does he?
>Explain the creationist theory to Lize.
>I met Iosefka today. She wanted you to know

>>1015128
>>He doesn't mention anything about flowers, does he?

>>1015128
>You never know. The truth can be stranger than fiction sometimes
>>He doesn't mention anything about flowers, does he?
>>I met Iosefka today. She wanted you to know that she's sorry about what happened

>>1015128
>>You never know. The truth can be stranger than fiction sometimes
>>He doesn't mention anything about flowers, does he?
and Iosefka for last.

She shouldn't be too quick to judge, you caution, the truth can be stranger than fiction sometimes. After all, you add with a joking smile, look what's been happening all around you lately!

“Yeah, I guess you've got a point there. All this weird stuff,” Lize laughs, “Like, I guess it's no wonder that I'm having some damn strange dreams lately. Hearing all the things I hear, I'm just glad they're not nightmares or crap like that. I've got enough problems without-”

Wait, you stop her, what kind of strange dreams?

“Just strange, y'know? Like, I'll be lying on this black ice just staring up at the sky for hours. Just staring, real peaceful. Like I said, they're not nightmares or whatever, just weird stuff,” she shrugs, apparently unconcerned, “And I'm not exactly a stranger to weird dreams, y'know? At least this way I don't have to deal with my ancestor yelling at me for not stabbing enough stuff. That gets really old, really quick, let me tell you...”

Even as her words patter away, you consider the implications. When Alyssia dreamed of Nihilo, you could understand that, but Lize? She's never, to the best of your knowledge, been taken there, so why is she having the dreams? Because she's close to you? Closing your eyes for a moment, you picture Artemis spreading her influence like a web, reaching out and touching minds, all with the aim of doing... what?

“Hey, you okay?” Lize leans across and prods you, “Have you been drinking?”

Opening your eyes quickly, you offer her an attempt at a reassuring smile. Yes, you admit, but that's not the point. That book of hers, you ask in an attempt to quickly move the conversation along, does it mention anything about flowers?

“Flowers? Hey, yeah, you're right! He mentioned flowers. I thought it was kinda weird because, like, I didn't think anything would grow up north like that. But then, hey, what's one more lie?” flicking through a few pages, Lize mutters vague curses to herself, “Oh right, here we are. According to old Toval, who would NEVER mislead us, we're all born from a flower – I think that might be, like, a poetic term for a... uh, never mind. We're all born from a flower, and so he put down flowers to mark his dead buddies. Pretty amazing, huh?”

Yeah, you agree weakly, amazing. Either you drank more than you thought, or she's making even less sense than normal.

“I mean, this guy had friends!” setting the book down, Lize shrugs, “Kinda creepy to think about it, burying their dead like that. There's a graveyard here in the city, right near the noble quarter, and it always freaks me out a little. Still, if you gotta mark their graves with something, flowers are as good as anything, right? They're bright and colourful, plus you don't have to buy them – you just rip them right out of someone's garden!”

[1/2]

>>1015235

When you've recovered from her rapid fire stream of words, you clear your throat and try to think of where to start. Start with the creation myth, you decide, she'll probably find all that historical talk interesting. The flower that people are born from, you begin, it's not a metaphor – according to an old legend you heard down south, there really was a flower that produced all human life. Easing into the story, but soon picking up speed, you tell it to her in as much detail as you can. Taking a few cues from old Toval, you make it sound as exciting as possible. The way her eyes widen with fascination makes it well worth the effort.

“Wow!” Lize sighs with a broad grin, “Wow, man, I'd love to see that tree. I bet it was huge! Like... huge!” she thrusts her hands up into the air and sweeps them out, as if to hammer home just how huge she means. It's pretty huge, apparently. “So wait, hey,” pausing, she frowns, “Does that mean that we're like, technically southerners? Man, my mother would be so mad about that...”

Well, you add with a faint awkwardness, it's just a story. It's interesting, but as Alyssia said, it's not really something that can be proven.

“Still,” picking up the book again, Lize examines the cover, “Maybe Toval wasn't so full of crap after all. Well, not totally full of crap at least. I reckon the bit where he kills three dozen men might be a bit of an exaggeration. See, I could buy two dozen, but-”

You saw Iosefka today, you cut in, she wanted Lize to know that she regrets what happened. It's a blunter way of saying it than you would have liked, but it seems like the only way to get a word in edgewise.

“Oh, right,” amazingly, Lize actually pauses, “Yeah, I guess I should go talk to her at some point. Do the whole “face to face” thing. Last time we spoke, it was sorta through a door. I've thought about it, y'know, and I don't really blame her for it. Sure, it was a shitty situation, but neither of us really saw it coming. We should all get together and talk it out some time.” Snapping her fingers suddenly, Lize jolts upright. “You could invite her over!” she announces, “We can complete the set!”

Her enthusiasm, it seems, has no limits. Just as you're letting out a weary sigh, there is a knock at the door. Frowning, keeping your knife close to hand, you answer the knock. Anders, your sullen landlord, is waiting there with an envelop. Without a single pleasantry, he thrusts it into your hand and stalks away. As you're closing the door, you notice the Ministry seal on the envelope.

“Duty calls?” Lize asks, watching as you read the letter within.

Duty calls, you confirm, you've got work to do.

>Going to pause things here for today. Planning to pick things up tomorrow, and I'll be around in case of any questions
>Thanks to everyone who contributed today!

>>1015328
>Snapping her fingers suddenly, Lize jolts upright. “You could invite her over!” she announces, “We can complete the set!”
Pfft

Thanks for running.

>>1015328
even liz wants a hearm

>>1015328
>“We can complete the set!”
Huh, I had forgotten Iosefka was a snake. I was thinking Mirrah to complete the set, this is better.
Thanks for running Moloch, nice to have ya back after the break.

So, uh, nobody is going to mention the wolf beast killed by the Seaside that came "out of nowhere" and oh hey there just happens to be some research facility nearby?

Gosh they sure were lucky some new Hunter with sketchy connections was there to kill and burn the body.

I wonder where Krebs got off to? Must have been wet with an oilskin coat and all.

>>1015967
I think it was talked about last thread already. Seemed pretty obvious once they mentioned Krebs going missing and a new pup showing up with a big game after sitting in the woods for a few days.

>>1016007
>>1015967
Yeah we made the connection last thread. Not in a position to do much with it since all we have is speculation but hopefully our orders will change that.

>>1016824
so is the young guy a younger krebs who killed his beast side ore someone else entirely?

>>1018241
a noble guy doesn't just spring out of nowhere. Those last names are there for a reason.

Unless he was actually "adopted" into a family, anyway. Iosefka could look up his background, but poking any further into the nobles might provoke something.


Be a really odd thing to tell Hyde, though.
>So he's either dead......or dead AND alive.

It feels like years since you've last spoken with Sokolov, face to face. It almost looks like years as well, with the old man looking somewhat worse for wear. Overworked, exhausted but ultimately prepared to do his duty, he makes you think of some vital part of a building – perhaps the single pillar that stops everything else from collapsing into dust and ruin. It's not glamorous, but it damn well works.

In many ways, you muse, he's not unlike the Ministry itself.

As you stand at attention, Sokolov slowly and methodically sets aside the papers he had been examining before finally turning his gaze to you. “The south appears to have treated you well,” he says at long last, studying you with the same cool detachment with which he studied his papers, “I hope you're well rested from your holiday.”

Of course, you think with a note of bitter irony, you were officially on leave following the siege of Port Tyrant. As far as the records will show, you spent your time sunning yourself on the beach and swimming in the warm oceans. The reality – time spent slogging through swamps and jungles, when you weren't too busy being shot at – was rather less relaxing, but all that is classified information. Standing here before Sokolov, you feel acutely aware of the remnants of your tan and how ludicrous it must look.

“A certain matter has come to our attention. We are not yet certain if a Hunter is needed, but I want you to remain involved as a precaution,” Sokolov watches your face for any significant reaction before continuing on, “Do you recall Haveer?”

You worked with the Ministry and a College representative, you answer sharply, Saburakh was the official leader of the operation. It was a messy operation, you add, but you were successful.

“This operation may be similar. As such, the same team is being prepared. Saburakh specifically requested the same individuals to be involved. That's not unusual for him – once he knows someone is trustworthy, he will often request their assistance,” another careful pause, “If, that is, he deems it necessary. In this case, he has done exactly that. Before I continue, I want you to know that this operation is to be carried out with discretion and care. Is that understood?”

Perfectly, you assure him, discretion and care – both well within your area of expertise.

Sokolov gives you a long, hard look – as if trying to tell whether you're being insolent or not – before nodding once, sharply. “The operation will be on Tolnir. You'll meet with Saburakh and...” papers shuffle as Sokolov checks a name, “Mirrah, your College representative, in Odyss. However, there is to be an additional member of your team. A comparatively new Hunter, named-”

Oh no...

“Uriah Bellerose,” Sokolov finishes, his dispassionate voice seeming to confirm your darkest suspicions.

[1/2]

File: Sokolov.png (896 KB, 990x1067)

896 KB PNG

>>1018401

“So you know of him already,” nodding, reading your expression like an open book, Sokolov continues, “There are those who consider Bellerose to have a great future ahead of him, although he needs time and training to reach his full potential. That is why he will be accompanying this operation – both to observe, and to be evaluated. Do you understand?”

With all due respect, you reply carefully, you've got no real experience with training or evaluating people – there are plenty of men better suited to this job than you. Privately, you consider that babysitting Uriah is just about the last thing you wanted to be saddled with, but you know better than say so. Instead, you take a more tactful approach. It would not be fair, you continue, for someone like you to examine Bellerose's abilities. He deserves a professional.

“Perhaps so, but none of those men have been requested,” Sokolov sighs, “If it will set your mind at ease, this is not an official evaluation – my interest lies in any... abnormalities that Bellerose may exhibit. I should not need to clarify this, but Bellerose should not be informed of this evaluation, for obvious reasons. Saburakh is aware of this part of the operation – you may discuss it with him, but only him. Now, to the operation itself...”

As Sokolov paused, checking his papers once more to make sure that everything was in its proper place, you consider this other mission. What kind of abnormalities, you ask yourself, are you supposed to be looking out for? Certainly, Uriah Bellerose is more abnormal than normal, if your single meeting is anything to go by. Listing everything about him that seemed odd or unusual would be a daunting task indeed.

“It has come to our attention that an unusually large number of fishermen have been vanishing in the waters around Tolnir,” the old man begins, pulling your thoughts back to the present moment, “Sometimes, their ships are recovered – intact, but with no signs of life or a struggle – but some ships have vanished completely. This is not a situation that can be allowed to go unanswered. Saburakh will brief you fully upon your arrival in Odyss, but I want to know if you have any immediate questions.”

Questions – well, you've got plenty of those. First of all, you ask, when do you leave?

“No later than today. Take whatever time you need to prepare, so long as you can be on a train to Odyss by nightfall,” Sokolov's answer is brief, blunt, “Was that everything?”

>Yes sir. I'll get to work
>What kind of abnormalities do you mean?
>I want to know some of Bellerose's background, if possible
>Can I bring an assistant along?
>I did have some questions... (Write in)
>Other

>>1018402
>>What kind of abnormalities do you mean?
>>I want to know some of Bellerose's background, if possible

>>1018402
>I want to know some of Bellerose's background, if possible
>What kind of abnormalities do you mean?
>Yes sir. I'll get to work

>>1018402
>What kind of abnormalities do you mean?
>>I want to know some of Bellerose's background, if possible
>>Can I bring an assistant along?

>>1018402
>What kind of abnormalities do you mean?
>I want to know some of Bellerose's background, if possible
>Can I bring an assistant along?

>>1018402
>Other

Discuss the Beast incident and ask who sent him out there to deal with it, and mention it was already abnormal how he did it. That the entire situation is abnormal.

>>1018428
Supporting

You'd like to know some of Bellerose's background, you ask quietly, if possible. You're going to be working with the young man – the boy, you think to yourself – so you want to know as much as possible.

“Just to be clear, I want to get your honest perceptions – I do not wish for you to go into this with any preconceptions or biases. However, you will be working together, and so I have to agree – you deserve to know about Bellerose,” Sokolov frowns as he gathers his thoughts, “Bellerose has been operating as a Hunter for slightly over one year at this point, although his record up until recently has been unremarkable at best – minor tasks, and typically done with no real enthusiasm. In truth, there was talk of revoking his League status due to this... lack of moral fibre.”

That's odd, you remark, that doesn't sound much like the young man you met.

“No, it doesn't. His performance has dramatically improved recently, culminating in his successful hunt in Artyom. I presume you've heard about it – most people have,” the frown deepens for a moment, casting Sokolov's expression in a darker light, “Although having read Bellerose's account myself, I find myself doubting it. I can't fault his results, but these doubts are a large part of why I'm asking you to observe him. If he performs his duties flawlessly, so be it – I'll consider my misgivings a mistake. If not... I wish to know the exact details of his failure.”

You were there in the aftermath of the Artyom incident, you tell Sokolov, and it seemed strange to you as well. Who was it that sent him down to investigate?

“Abernath, down in Odyss. To clarify, Bellerose was not specifically sent to Artyom. He heard of the events and, with permission from Abernath, went to investigate. I don't think anyone expected him to be successful,” Sokolov grimaces faintly, “It's enough that his lacklustre past has been more or less completely forgotten. Make no mistake, Hanson – I do not forget quite so easily.”

Sokolov hates the young man, you realise with a certain amusement, even if he doesn't say it overtly. That's his professional record, you press, was there anything about his family history that you should know?

“There are certain rumours going around about Bellerose,” here, Sokolov picks his words with even greater care, “I presume you've heard of those as well?”

About his parentage, you guess, and his blood. A bastard, or so you've heard – with a noble father and a Wolf for a mother.

“Unofficially – and I wish to stress that this should remain private – I can confirm those rumours,” the old man fixes you with his stern gaze, “I cannot, of course, reveal the identity of his father. The nobility enjoy a certain degree of privacy above and beyond that of the common man. I would request that you do not ask about this matter, Bellerose's heritage, any further.”

[1/2]

>>1018435
Huh. We're kind of reversing this with Liz.

And, you know, not boning her.

>>1018444
Y E T

>>1018455
Artemis is our main waif, Camilla is next.

>>1018435

Changing the subject, then, you return to an earlier issue. These abnormalities, you ask, what exactly should you be looking for?

“Cowardice, treachery or deceit would be your main concerns,” Sokolov narrows his eyes slightly, as if just speaking those words had caused him pain, “But I wish to know about any physical irregularities as well. I trust that you understand what I mean?”

Something related to his mixed blood, you guess, is that correct?

“Correct. While my interests are solely focussed on his ability to perform his duties, I have been given strict instructions to have his physical state monitored as well,” the displeasure that colours Sokolov's face tells you exactly how he feels about being given orders, “Again, I must stress that there are limits on how much I can tell you. Perform your duties with diligence and discretion, and you need not worry.”

Understood, you lie, you just had one last question to ask. Are you permitted to take an assistant along?

For a brief second, Sokolov looks faintly relieved – glad, perhaps, that you're not pressing the issue. “Provided that you keep my earlier instructions in mind, that will not be a problem,” nodding, the old man folds his hands, “They will be in your care, and their failings will reflect upon you.”

Then you're ready to get to work, you tell Sokolov, you'll leave for Odyss as soon as you're ready.

“Excellent,” nodding, Sokolov looks away from you to focus on his paperwork, “You're dismissed.”

-

Leaving the Ministry with rather more questions than answers, you start back to your tenement. Somehow, you knew that you hadn't seen the last of Uriah Bellerose and true enough - here he is. Going over Sokolov's words, you think about Abernath – not a Hunter you're particularly well-acquainted with, but you've heard nothing bad about him. If you're in Odyss with time to spare, you could always speak the man and get his impressions of Uriah. Sokolov is a smart man, but he's no Wolf. He won't understand Uriah like another Hunter might, no more than you could truly understand a Ministry agent.

But that's all ahead of you – no point in making too many plans before you've even left the capital. There's ample time before nightfall and your deadline, so if there's anything else in the way of preparations to make...

>Head back to the tenement to pack
>There IS something else... (Write in)
>Other

>>1018462
>Head back to the tenement to pack

>>1018462
>Head back to the tenement to pack

>>1018462
>Head back to the tenement to pack
>Surprize Lize
>"It's literally safer for you to go on a covert expedition where there's guaranteed to be violence than be left here alone."

>>1018462
>>Head back to the tenement to pack
Guess we'll finally get to dig into Uriah.

>>1018462
So, we grabbing Hyde?

>>1018462
We never got our upgrades for the twin knights

>>1018462
>Head back to the tenement to pack
>>1018468
this is so, so sad, but with the conspiracy in the middle of being cleaned out, rather true.

>>1018483
ARTY! You had one job!

>>1018462
>>There IS something else... (Write in)

Play both sides, get Iosefka to look into what's going on / see if she knows anything. Also warn her that Sokolov is doing a clean-up operation that she is involved in, if only tangentially.

Because WE warn our friends when shit could be dangerous.

>>1018486
Do you think instead of Civilization vs. Wolf-powers, we could get the Tyrant dude to teach us some sick sword skills?

>>1018483
>>1018486
>you have a lot more friends you know in Nihilo now, THAT'S the upgrade! Here's Lizbeth, Vas, and Hyde right here.
>.....I wanted to surprise you.

>>1018483

>That IS true, I forgot to cover that last time we were speaking with Artemis. I'll make sure to include that today. Definitely.
>Next post might be slightly delayed, however. Sorry about this. I'll try and keep things as quick as possible.

>>1018435
>Bellerose has been operating as a Hunter for slightly over one year
so he isn't Hyde, at least.

Did they inject him with a version 2.0 serum made after Hyde?

>>1018483
Question is: should we take Civilization powers? Can't put anymore into combat without going crazy and our potency is getting bad enough as it is.

>>1018496
You mean Krebs?

>>1018500
Probably should yeah. Might balance us out.

>>1018503
Krebs, sorry, I should just go to sleep.

>>1018500
I'm down for >>1018491

>>1018507
Think he knows what happened with his body? Should we tell him?

>>1018510
Wait you meant Tyrant. We should ask him about his blood stasis and where he traveled up north.

>>1018500
Technically we have two upgrades saved up, since we did not take the last one. And civilization might still fuck us up.

>>1018521
Yeah that's what I meant. Should have reworded it.

But yeah should we even take anymore blood upgrades at all since our potency is already too high?

>>1018525
True, we're already pretty well banced. But one of the upgrade is the 8th one and that's an important thing right?

>>1018535
Oh yeah I forgot about that. Guess it'll depend on what it is.

There's only one thing you can think of that needs taking care of, and that's seeing if Iosefka has anything to tell you about this. Gossip and rumour – along with a worrying number of secrets – have a habit of passing through her bar. If there's anything that Sokolov has been keeping from you, she might know about it. Besides, it's not much of a detour, and a quick stop at the Medicine won't take long.

When you arrive, Iosefka is behind the bar, talking in a low voice with a pair of customers. Glancing across at your arrival, she flashes a quick smile before drawing the conversation to a close and approaching. Uriah Bellerose, you murmur once she's arrived, has she heard of him?

“Sure, a Hunter. Got a good of attention in the papers, which isn't something you see very often. Most of the time, your sort of work goes unnoticed,” smiling a cynical smile, Iosefka continues, “Most of it was in the gossip rags, though, and they seemed more interested in the dashing young prince. Quite a looker, if you believe what they were writing. Is there a reason why you're asking? I didn't think he was your type.”

Funny, you grunt, you're going to be working with him – you wanted to know if she'd heard about anything dirty. Any scandals or bad rumours, in other words. You've heard about his family, but...

“Well, that's about all I've heard as well. There isn't a noble family with the name “Bellerose”, of course, so he's certainly not recognised as nobility. Not that uncommon, if he really is a bastard,” shrugging lightly, Iosefka leans in, “Although I don't think he's been abandoned completely. A horse and sabre? Those wouldn't come cheap.”

Neither do fine clothes, you agree, he's definitely got someone filling his pockets.

“I'm sure,” cynicism drips from Iosefka's voice, “And I don't doubt that it was a gift – no strings attached whatsoever.”

But of course. Regardless, you continue, there was something else you wanted to tell her. That “reading material” that you brought her, you warn, she might want to keep that quiet. The Ministry might be looking to keep certain matters quiet, and there's always the chance that she could get caught in the crossfire. You're not saying that she's in their sights YET, but she certainly could be. Just a friendly warning, you add.

“Well, I appreciate it,” Iosefka raises an eyebrow in polite amusement, “Does that mean we're friends again?”

Careful, you warn, she better not push her luck.

-

Having given that warning, you're left without much else to talk about. After admitting her ignorance on the subject of Uriah – and Iosefka is not a woman who admits ignorance lightly – the former doctor tried to press you for your own knowledge. Playing dumb for now, you made your excuses and left.

When you arrived at the tenement, you found Hyde sitting glumly at the stairs.

[1/2]

>>1018591

Well, you remark, you weren't sure if you were going to see him again.

“After you left, I had a lot of thinking to do,” he admits, “What you said made a lot of sense, even if I was too stubborn to admit it at the time. I wasn't lying when I said that I wanted to keep people safe, but there are better ways of doing that than making my den in the rough parts of town. I'd rather protect the people who mean something to me.” A solemn pause descends, and then Hyde forces an awkward laugh. “Plus,” he adds, “One of those bastards threw a rock through my window. Hell if I'm going to risk my ass for them, if that's the way they're going to treat me. No, I'd much rather work things out with Alyssia.”

Right, you add with a crooked smile, that's why he's lurking down here rather than working things out with her.

“Hey, I'm just building myself up to it!” Hyde protests, “I'm just thinking of what to say!”

Sure, you joke, sure he is.

“I am,” scowling at you, Hyde thrusts his hands into his pockets, “Anyway, never mind me – what's going on with you?”

Work, you reply simply, it's not really something you can talk too much about. You'll be gone by nightfall, and you might not be back for a few days. So, you add with a smile, he's got plenty of time to sweep Alyssia off her feet!

“That's one way of looking at things,” he grumbles, “Good luck with that job, whatever it is – when they don't let you talk about it, that's when you're in for some real trouble.”

No kidding, you sigh as you head up the stairs.

-

Good news, you tell Lize when you arrive back at the apartment, you've finally found a way to keep her out of trouble. It just involves taking her along for a secret mission where violence is a near certainty.

“Huh,” Lize tilts her head to the side, “I'm not that much a troublemaker, am I?”

Well, if she really wants you to answer that...

“Yeah okay,” she laughs, “Point taken. So is this you asking me to come along? I don't mind keeping you company, and I could sure do with a change of scenery! When are we leaving?”

Today, you tell her, as soon as possible – so she'd better pack quickly, you don't want to wait around too long.

“Gee, that'll be hard,” rolling her eyes, Lize hops up from the couch and grabs her heavy coat, “There, that's me packed. Hurry up, you're making us wait!”

-

Lize hovers around you like a fly as you throw a few things into your pack, practically buzzing with excitement. Considering what happened the last time she had an “adventure”, you're surprised to see Lize so eager. Maybe it's just like she said, she's missed travelling and seeing new places. Maybe she just wants to spend some time away from the apartment – you can't really blame her that. As far as you're concerned, wanderlust tends to set in after a few days.

So it's about time you both did some wandering.

[2/3]

>>1018668
> Taking sketchy dragon runaway, instead of WolfBro Hyde.

Yeah, I'm sure this is going to end well with the dude who's the hidden bastard offspring of a Dragon and a Wolf.

>>1018671
It's like you don't want to see some cute little Wolf/barbarian hybrids in the epilogue anon.

>>1018671
Hyde has got shit to deal with. Lize is also pretty competent.

And it's not like every noble knows every other noble by face. Specially with her extra scars and dyed hair.

>>1018671

>No, that's a pretty valid point that I overlooked, and it's enough of a choice that it really should have been up for a vote. I'll alter the next post accordingly. Sorry, I'm a little off today.

>>1018704
But like isn't that kinda off?

'Hey Hyde go confront your issues. Nevermind come with me and put this off for a few weeks burying yourself in work.'

Guess it'll depend how you spin it.

>>1018709
This, when apprentice was mentioned Lize was the first and only one that came to mind. I didn't even consider bringing Hyde.

>>1018715
>Hyde
>Apprentice

The guy is no less accomplished than we are, if not more.

>>1018709
>>1018715

Yeah, this sucks. But he gets a night with Alyessa, and goes off to do some ACTUAL help.

Not to mention he's another wolf, not some rando kid. Who is escaped nobility hiding with us, and underage.

It's not that Liz ain't competent. But Hyde has skin in the game, and also deserves to help us find out if this is related to Krebs disappearing or anything.

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>>1018726
>>1018715

>>Can I bring an assistant along?

>>1018735
Close enough. Hyde still didn't come to mind is my point.

>>1018729
That rando kid has worked with us on assignments before and has been pretty valuable.

And stepping away from the pragmatic standpoint I like their interactions and they are a fun duo.

I'm not adverse to taking Hyde, I like the dude, but I just want our shit to match up. If he has shit to take care of, he should go take care of it.

As for the Krebs thing we haven't made that connection IC yet. Hell we can only speculate OOC so there is a chance it might be wrong (probably not though).

>>1018748
I like Liz too. But since we're supposed to be seeing if this guy is a Wolf, and doing a secret stealth mission, it makes more sense to bring another Wolf, not a Dragon who doesn't know jack about Wolves.

>
Leaving the Ministry with rather more questions than answers, you start back to your tenement. Somehow, you knew that you hadn't seen the last of Uriah Bellerose and true enough - here he is. Going over Sokolov's words, you think about Abernath – not a Hunter you're particularly well-acquainted with, but you've heard nothing bad about him. If you're in Odyss with time to spare, you could always speak the man and get his impressions of Uriah. Sokolov is a smart man, but he's no Wolf. He won't understand Uriah like another Hunter might, no more than you could truly understand a Ministry agent.

I honestly thought this was implying we should bring Hyde along.

>>1018668

Hyde has, at the very least, made his way up to the floor you share with Alyssia by the time you're leaving the apartment. At the sight of you, he holds up his hand in a greeting and gives you a wan smile.

“Hey Hyde!” Lize greets him with a far more cheerful wave, “You finally came crawling back, huh?”

“After seven flights of stairs, I certainly feel like crawling,” the Hunter replies with a pained attempt at a smile, before glancing across at you, “Henryk, hello again. I suppose you're heading off now, right?”

Right, you confirm, duty calls.

“Still can't tell me anything about it, huh?” Hyde shrugs, “I suppose that's the way of things. Like I said earlier, these are the risky ones. Are you...” His words trail off as he glances at Lize.

“C'mon, I can take care of myself!” Lize insists, “I mean, you should know that better than anyone, right Hyde?”

“That's... true,” he concedes the point with a vague gesture.

As the pair bicker, you consider Hyde's situation. You couldn't say anything for certain, but your instincts are telling you one thing – Tolnir and Krebs are connected somehow, even if you can't say exactly how. It was Hyde's mention of a raincoat that started the idea forming in your mind, fusing with the famously poor weather down on the island. A tenuous link? Maybe, but your instincts tell you otherwise. If Krebs really is involved in this... doesn't Hyde have a right to know? Perhaps knowing would only open new wounds, but what if those wounds were already open? Learning the truth might give him the solace he needs to really settle down.

Of course, actually bringing Hyde along to Tolnir might be inconvenient, especially with Saburakh's distrust. However if Hyde was to, by sheer coincidence, decide to visit Tolnir at the same time...

>Tell Hyde about Tolnir. He deserves to know, and he can make his own decision
>Keep Tolnir quiet. Hyde is needed here, not off chasing shadows
>Other

>>1018748
Also

> Complaining that taking him along because of Krebs is OOC

> Wants to bring Liz along for OOC reasons.

We're going to sacrifice her to Artemis anyways after she gets taken over.

>>1018760
>Keep Tolnir quiet. Hyde is needed here, not off chasing shadows

>>1018757
unless we're bringing her in to look for dragon similarities.

>>1018760
>Keep Tolnir quiet. Hyde is needed here, not off chasing shadows

>>1018760
>>Tell Hyde about Tolnir. He deserves to know, and he can make his own decision

>>1018760
>>Keep Tolnir quiet. Hyde is needed here, not off chasing shadows
Keep quiet, for now.

>>1018764
Except we already KNOW that his dad was a dragon. What exactly does that do then?

Y'all want to put Liz into intrigue and danger because you got the waifu-itis.

>>1018760
>Tell Hyde about Tolnir. He deserves to know, and he can make his own decision

>>1018768
No, I want her with us because she almost got gutted last time and she can tease out things from different perspective than us. Hyde is a wolf and will think like a wolf. We may need a perspective that is not a wolf. Besides Hyde is needed here dealing with his own demons.

>>1018760
>Keep Tolnir quiet. Hyde is needed here, not off chasing shadows

>>1018772
Yeah, sure is a great idea to bring Liz along to investigate someone with powerful backing and might be involved in Witchery stuff, and has a unique insight to catch the fact that Liz isn't actually a Wolf.

Instead of a guy who already has a stake in it, and has just as much if not more experience with us, who isn't still a kid (if a precocious one).

>>1018760
>>Keep Tolnir quiet. Hyde is needed here, not off chasing shadows
No need to open up wounds if he just got over it. We can tell him things once we know for certain.

>>1018760
>>Keep Tolnir quiet. Hyde is needed here, not off chasing shadows

Might've considered it if he and Alyssia made up while we were packing but since he is still here working up courage I'm not going to impede that.

>>1018778
>and has a unique insight to catch the fact that Liz isn't actually a Wolf.

Assistant does not mean apprentice anon we don't claim that she's a wolf. Dur. As for backing? If they come after us they will go after her by default, and I'd rather have her close where we can look out for her than having her run from or having to fight off agents cause someone used a telegram.

As for Hyde he needs to settle his own demons before he'd be up for this.

>>1018778
No one thinks Lize is a Wolf. Not even Hyde who thinks she is our sister.

>>1018778
Henryk has never implied Like was a Wolf and no one has ever suspected she's anything other than a normal human. Except Hyde.

>I'm closing the vote now, looks like we're keeping things quiet. Again, I apologise that this was somewhat thrown together - it was not something I'd considered until now. Regardless, writing now.

>>1018811
Meh. It's good either way.

>>1018801
>>1018797
Except those times we pretend she was a wolf to explain her combat skills and why she suddenly showed up from nowhere to live with us.

>>1018811
Nah it's cool.

Hyde isn't really a regular party member either.

>>1018794
Yes, they're prescient and able to come after us before we even investigate anything, because THAT'LL keep suspicion off of Bellend.

>>1018828
>we pretend she was a wolf
We have never done that.

We said we've given her some training and that she is our sister, but that's it.

>>1018833
>Yes, they're prescient and able to come after us before we even investigate anything,
Not what I said. We have no idea how long this is going to take and how ruffled feathers will be. Nor do we know how quickly word can get back to people. it's prudence.

>>1018828
never once did that.

>>1018839
Votes over, I'm not interested in shitting up the thread arguing with you any more. Get over it.

>>1018845
>Get over it.
Over what? I was just pointing out you were wrong. Not really an argument, just stating something.

>>1018855
Could you guys just stop? Thanks.

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Hyde has something here, even if he has handled it with all the grace and care of a man in the throes of a seizure. Dragging him off to Tolnir now, when you've got nothing more than a hunch to go on, is not what he needs. If this does play out according to your instincts, you can tell him later – every last detail, if that's what he wants. Besides, Sokolov was quite specific about handling this situation with care. Hyde would be a rogue element, and that could cause problems for all of you.

If he died on Tolnir, would you really be able to look Alyssia in the eye?

Life was easier, you think with a faint weariness, when it was just you and you alone. Bidding Hyde farewell, you fetch Lize and lead her down to the lobby. You've got a train to catch.

-

Lize keeps up a constant flow of conversation as you walk to the station, somehow never quite managing to say anything at all. When you left Hyde, he was just knocking at Alyssia's door – largely because Lize hadn't stopped bothering him until he took that last step. He's made it that far, you think to yourself, that's the hard part. From here on, it's out of your hands – no point dwelling on it. So, with that thought in mind, you turn your attention to what lies ahead. A long train ride, in this case.

Luckily, you arrive at the station just in time to catch the next train down south. It's a straight ride to Odyss, and you might even be able to nap the journey away. Sleeping wouldn't just be a good way to pass the time, it might serve a practical purpose as well – you've got a few questions for some of your departed friends.

How would the White Tyrant feel, you wonder, about becoming a lab specimen? He'll probably be pissed off – you certainly would be, if you were in his position.

True enough, as you think about Nihilo you slowly feel sleep creeping up on you. Lize seems to take note of this and brings her ambling conversation to an end. With the rattle of the train's wheels offering a background rhythm, you lean back against the worn seat and close your eyes. When you open them again...

-

Nihilo. Exactly as you expected. The thought that other people have been dreaming of this place and not just you is a strange one – unwelcome almost, as if they were straying onto your territory. Dwelling on that idea for too long seems somehow unwholesome, and so you focus on finding Artemis instead. She's standing apart from the other two human – more or less human – residents, staring off into the horizon. Nodding a brusque greeting to Isten as you pass, you approach her.

“Henryk!” like a basket of knives, Artemis' smile is as unsettling as always, “Hello!”

>People have been dreaming of you, you know
>You have some new power for me, don't you?
>I came here to ask you something... (Write in)
>Other

>>1018887
>People have been dreaming of you, you know
"Or this place in particular. Alyssia I get, but Lize having these dreams is on the strange side."

>>1018887
>>People have been dreaming of you, you know

>>1018887
>>People have been dreaming of you, you know

>>1018887
>People have been dreaming of you, you know
>You have some new power for me, don't you?
>And that other non-power gift?
>Also don't forget to ask the Tyrant about his travels and blood

>>1018887

>People have been dreaming of you, you know

>>1018887
>>People have been dreaming of you, you know
>>You have some new power for me, don't you?
Dunno if we should take it though. Depends how useful it is.

>>1018845
Get off your high horse. Not only do you get assblasted at that anon when he points how wrong you are, you act holier-than-thou afterwards.

>>1018887
>People have been dreaming of you, you know
>You have some new power for me, don't you?

>>1018887
>>I came here to ask you something... (Write in)
What can we get instead of Power?

Could we get power from one of your fragments instead, maybe some power not from our bloodline now that Artemis is growing in strength?

>>1018973
> Nobody remembers when we first played as Liz and had to explain killing a Beast as us actually being a Wolf

>>1018973
Don't start this up again please.

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After returning your greeting, an awkward pause descends upon you both. At least, it feels awkward to you – Artemis just tilts her head and waits, unblinking, to see what you do next. Clearing your throat, you move on with all due haste. People have been dreaming of her, you point out, is that something she's aware of? You can understand Alyssia dreaming of Nihilo, but Lize? She's got nothing to do with any of this, so why has she been dreaming?

“Oh, that worked?” Artemis looks faintly smug, “I didn't know if it had worked or not. I'm a little out of practice, you see.”

Out of practice, you repeat slowly.

“Oh yes. It's been quite some time since I reached out to someone, so I was wondering if I still could. It's a clever little trick, isn't it? Like leaning over and whispering in someone's ear. Whispering things like...” leaning up, standing on the tips of her toes, Artemis lowers her voice to a purr. “You need to go to that island!” there's something theatrical about her whisper, “There are people there who need rescuing!”

So she was practising, you admit as you take a slight step away from her, why? And why use Lize as her target?

“She was easy to find, for one thing. You've left your mark on her, like a scent,” she sniffs the air, offering you a sweet smile, “I could never forget that smell. It's one of my favourites.”

Of course it is, you think, along with blood and beasts. So that's half the question, you press, now the other half – why, exactly, has she been practising?

“Well, ah...” Artemis actually has the good grace to look faintly embarrassed here, “I was bored, okay! You were away, and there's absolutely nothing to do here except talking with... that old grump!” With that, she waves a hand at the White Tyrant, who seems to be watching your unfolding conversation with faintly sardonic amusement. Yvette, lurking even further away, seems intent on ignoring you – and, indeed, everything – as much as possible.

That's all it was, you ask, just boredom and curiosity? Even as you ask this, you find yourself wondering – if she had more sinister goals, would she really admit it just because you asked? Maybe she would, you think with wry amusement, she does have a habit of speaking without thinking. Unless that harmless foolishness has all been an act, something to cover up...

A man can go mad, thinking in such paranoid terms.

“That's all. From now on, no more playing around with other people,” Artemis grins again, “I've got you back, so I don't need anyone else!”

That's... reassuring.

[1/2]

>>1018988
>Nobody remembers when we first played as Liz and had to explain killing a Beast as us actually being a Wolf


Again she didn't Hyde just said to have us check our blood again in testing.

>>1019010

In either case, you say as you quickly move the conversation along, you wanted to ask about her gifts. She has a new power for you, doesn't she? Two separate blessings, in fact – one for either half of the Sibling Knights.

“Of course!” Artemis widens her eyes in shock, “I forgot all about that, I've been so busy lately you see, and so...”

Wasn't she just complaining about how boring things have been?

“But you're right, there IS something I can do for you – their power is my power, and my power is your power. Let me see...” leaning closer again, she takes her hand in a delicate grip and lifts it to her face. You almost think she's about to kiss it, but instead she draws in a deep breath. Tasting, savouring the smell, her mouth spreads out in a languid, sensual smile. “Yes, I can work with this. I can-”

Wait, you ask, you had a question. She said that their power was her power – is there any way that you can draw power from one of her fragments, rather than your own bloodline? With her growing power, would that be possible?”

“I...” pausing, Artemis' brow creases in a thoughtful frown, “I don't actually know. Huh. Maybe I could... let me think...”

As she mumbles and murmurs to herself, you glance around at Isten. He just shrugs helplessly, and so you look back to Artemis. Her face has turned very serious, like a student faced with their hardest lesson yet.

“Ask me again later, I need to think about this,” she asks, “I have two gifts to offer you. Why not take one now, and one later? If this doesn't work out – but I think it might just work – we can do the usual thing. Just a little time for me to think, how does that sound?”

Fair enough, you agree, you're curious enough that this is worth the wait. For now, what's this other gift of hers?

“There's a beast in your heart, Henryk,” the goddess purrs, “It sleeps most of the time, but sometimes you can wake it up. You know what I mean, don't you? What if... what if I could make it a light sleeper, so you could always enjoy its senses – your birthright?”

That sounds as much like a curse as it does a blessing, you point out.

“Does it?” confused, Artemis tilts her head to the side, “I thought you'd like it. Does that mean you don't want it?”

>I'll accept this gift
>I can't accept this

This gift will, in essence, give us a constant low-level boost to our senses. A less powerful version of our existing abilities, in other words. It wouldn't let us track something very far, but we'd be more aware of scents. We would still have access to our original power, and it would still require Focus to activate.

>>1019119
>>I'll accept this gift

>>1019119
>I can't accept this

>>1019119
>>I can't accept this

I feel we shouldn't indulge to much in the beast side ,we might lose control soon

>>1019119
>>I can't accept this
Too close to beasthood

>>1019119
What about the gift that we once refused, is it lost forever? Fairly sure there was something involving lapses in memory as we went feral if we took it.

>>1019119
>>I can't accept this
Yeah a bit too beasty for me.

>>1019163
I don't think we've ever refused a gift. We just know that taking Bloodlust past +20 will potentially make us go feral.

>Closing the vote now, turning down the gift.

>>1019163

>I'll need to check my notes, so I can't answer that right now. I'll see what I can dig up though. Sorry about this.

>>1019180
>>1019209
Maybe my memory is just bad.

File: White Tyrant.png (375 KB, 570x570)

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In the stillness following that offer, you feel as though you stand upon the edge of a precipice – looking out across a bleak and bottomless sea. There could be no going back from those depths, you think to yourself, no way of living as a pure human once you took that plunge. Waking your inner beast for a few moments, as Artemis called it, that's one thing – but living with it as a constant companion is an entirely different matter.

You can't accept this gift, you tell her quietly, you're not yet prepared to abandon your humanity.

“I see,” Artemis nods sadly, “Does it really mean that much to you?”

It's hard to say, you admit, but maybe it does. It means enough that you can't bring yourself to casually discard it in favour of living like a beast. If she wants a better answer... you'll have to think about it, think of the right words to use. That's a very human problem, you add with a faint smile, figuring out the right words to use.

Well, unless you just blurt out whatever comes to mind, like some of the people you know.

“If you should change your mind, Henryk, you only need to ask,” smoothing out her pale robes, Artemis assumes a mask of prim dignity, “Excuse me please, I have a great deal of thinking to do. Next time we meet, I hope that I have an answer for you.”

Then you'll leave her to think, you reply solemnly.

-

“You made the right decision,” Isten tells you as you're walking past him, “You do not trust a creature like her. Not completely. She reminds me, I think, of my pet witch. Of Hebona.”

As you recall, you point out, she tried to have him killed.

“So you should know the weight of my words,” he chuckles ruefully, “And you should take my warning seriously.”

>I'll keep that in mind
>You've still got quite a legend, you know – northerners still talk of how you walked beneath the red moon
>Alright, this warning of yours. Why don't you explain it a little better?
>Other

>>1019300
>>I'll keep that in mind
>>You've still got quite a legend, you know – northerners still talk of how you walked beneath the red moon

>>1019300
>You've still got quite a legend, you know – northerners still talk of how you walked beneath the red moon
>Alright, this warning of yours. Why don't you explain it a little better?

>>1019300
>>I'll keep that in mind
>>You've still got quite a legend, you know – northerners still talk of how you walked beneath the red moon

>>1019300
>>I'll keep that in mind
>>You've still got quite a legend, you know – northerners still talk of how you walked beneath the red moon

Lingering for a moment longer, you consider this warning of his before sitting down on the black ice, looking the tyrant in the eye. He's still got quite the legend back in the real world, you tell him, northerners still speak of him.

“Of course they do!” Isten cackles, “And I will live forever because of it. When all your leaders are nothing but ash and... and paper, I will still live. But please – what do they say about me?”

A great deal of arrogance, you think, for a defeated man. They share legends and stories, you tell him, about how he walked under the red moon. Just stories, of course – men cannot walk that way without protection. To do so is madness, mutation and death.

“Stories, are they?” the tyrant's grin grows wider, “Would you know better than I, southerner? My heart is of the north. Perhaps that is why you fear the red moon, while I embraced it. Perhaps that is why I was born anew, while you are yet to enjoy that blessing? No, they are not stories – but if you have an interest in such things, perhaps I can TELL you a story.”

A true story?

“A legend,” Isten corrects you, “MY legend.”

-

“You see, you men of the south do not understand the moon as we do... and we barely understand it at all. You see two moons, a silver coin and a bloodshot eye. We know that there are far more faces than those two,” with the smug satisfaction of a man who knows his worth, Isten sets in to telling his story, “The lunatic moon, that you know so well, and the father moon. Ah, perhaps you've seen the children that it leaves in its wake!”

A deformed child of the north, you grunt, you know about those vile progeny all too well. Is this going to be his story, you ask with a taunt in your voice, the story of how he became a proud father?

“It was not I who received a child,” shaking his head, Isten chuckles to himself, “Hebona, she showed it to me – the rarest face of all. The gorgon moon, capable of turning a man to living stone... if you believe the stories. What if it was not always stone, but sometimes flesh that did not age? Sometimes blood that did not sour? There were so many pitiful statues there, in the far north, but we did not join their number. No, the witch and I... we were blessed, where so many were destroyed.”

What was different, you press, why did they survive where others died?

“I cannot say,” this time, the tyrant shrugs, “Only the witch would know that.”

And she's dead, you mutter to yourself.

“Everything dies,” shrugging again, the old barbarian gives you a callous look, “Age could not touch me, and I still died. Do not forget that. Everything. Dies. Another warning for you, perhaps.”

[1/2]

>>1019450

All these warnings, you muse, he must be concerned about you. That first warning of his – how about he gives you a proper explanation?

“What is there to explain?” Isten spreads his hands wide, “Hebona, she made herself my loyal shadow, always ready with new secrets and wisdom, lending me the authority of the nameless gods. All the while, she took instructions from another master – her. A tool to be used and discarded... do you think yourself different?” Falling silent, he looks out at Artemis' back. “Perhaps you will be lucky. Perhaps she will only abandon you.”

Is that all he has, you ask, empty threats and mind games?

“If that is what you want to call them,” another oily chuckle rolls out from the old man's lips, “I might consider them precautions.”

And you'll consider this goodbye, you tell him in a cold voice. Rising to your feet, you pick a direction at random and stride away. Before you've made it too far, the tugging sensation of your departure descends upon you like a fog. Your vision fades to black, and then you hear a youthful voice.

“Henryk?” the voice calls, as if from a great distance, “We're here. We've arrived. Wake up!”

As if you could sleep, with her shaking you like that.

>I'm going to have to pause here. I'll probably continue this on Monday, and I'll stick around in case anyone has any questions
>Thanks for sticking around today!

>>1019583
Thanks for running.

>>1019583
Thanks for running!

>NB is back
Literally best written quest on this board is back

>>1019583
Thanks for running Moloch.

>>1019583
Thanks for running!

>>1019583
>>1019450
I don't think Artemis abandoned Hebona, I think she just expects people to take precautions against, you know, getting shot and such. Like meet your Goddess half way.

Maybe if the Tyrant had been willing to be an Epic Hero then he wouldn't have become a target.

>>1019883
Right? Neither Hebona or Artemis expected Henryk to just shoot her dead like that.

Polite reminder that Artemis is perfectly trustworthy and completely harmless.

Don't you want to protect that smile, anons?

>>1024890
Reminder that if Liz IS one of the shards, she's essentially already dead and going to be devoured from the inside by it and so if it comes down to it the only real choice is to kill Liz so that Artemis lives, as opposed to failing to resurrect Artemis and letting an alien, hostile entity live in Liz's body.

>>1024890
>perfectly trustworthy
I actually kinda thing that is the case. She's genuine but she doesn't understand certain concepts of humans and other things. Like how she was confused why we didn't take the latest gift.

>Harmless
Funny joke

>Don't you want to protect that smile, anons?
As long as it isn't trying to eat us or the people around us, yes.

>>1024995
She isn't. The knife would have heated up otherwise and Artemis would have been able to tell a long long time ago.

>>1025019
There's also the fact that she is our best chance of fixing our blood.

We should really draw some and get Iosefka to store it for us, Make it a "Because I still believe we are friends, and trust you" deal and tell her our blood is more advanced than it should be, and while you're looking into possibilities to fix that shit, you might not be able to bring a fix back or reproduce what happens if it's something that happens up North, so we want to keep a "before" sample we can compare our new blood to in that case.

Alternatively, if it accelerates more and worsens, or worst we die somehow, then she can do what she sees fit. Maybe there can still be something learned if we fail.

But until then, it's verboten. No testing it, no telling anyone else, etc.

Honestly, I DO think Iosefka's trustworthy, just she's a scholar so she has poor judgement about where those boundaries are. Pretty sure that if we frame it as "we're giving this because we trust you, even though we are mad at you" and not some sort of shit-test or something she has to do for "redemption", then she'd be touched and take it seriously.

I just get the feeling that the non-College Snake Doctor who runs a bar and sells information probably doesn't have a lot of close friends, and fewer people who are willing to trust her completely. Like, not to just betray them but to also not screw them accidentally out of greed or senility.

>>1026449
Regardless of everything else, we really SHOULD store some samples of our blood just in case. I picked Iosefka because she is our best bet for storing it properly, and not being tempted to test on it without us, or tell someone else about it etc. and also able to get it tested secretely if needed.

Liz doesn't have connections or knowledge or equipment, Camilla doesn't have the knowledge or equipment and also has obligations to the state (and might do it FOR us even behind our back), Alyssia not only doesn't have connections but she is also a Witch although she might have some witchy method of storing and testing it, Hyde is a bro but an old Wolf and might be tempted to mess with it. Also no knowledge or equipment for storing it. Sokolov might actually not be a bad choice, but he would DEFINITELY mess about with it and would probably have pointed questions as to how we knew it was advanced.

Actually, I wouldn't mind giving Alyssia some blood of ours to see if there are any other unique properties besides its advanced state. She could compare with Hyde, and as well maybe check if it's different from the blood of Wolves from the North. Maybe Iosefka could get us some?

As you're exiting the train, a strange thought strikes you – it looks as though someone forgot to paint in Odyss, leaving you with nothing but a blank, grey expanse stretching out before you. It's been a very long time since you've seen fog this thick. Not only does it cut your view down to a few meagre feet, it also seems to muffle the sounds around you – either that, or the heavy haze has dampened the mood of the whole town. The journey had been both long and slow, with the night already settling in when you arrive. Above, a sole point of weak light peers down from the sky – the moon, seeming more distant than ever.

No gorgons or fathers up there, you think thankfully, just a dull and tarnished coin like something you might dig out of an coat pocket. Old perhaps, definitely worn... but reassuring to see regardless.

“Last time I saw weather this bad,” Lize gripes as you're leaving the station, “It was... oh man, it was back when we had that storm. That was snow and crap though, this is just... fog. All the fog in the world, seems like. This sucks.”

You'll likely be seeing rain soon, you tell her, is that any better?

“Not... really,” pulling a pained face, Lize looks up at the sky, “Hell, it's just a bit of water, it's not gonna kill me. Unless like, I pass out face down in a puddle or something, but-”

“Excuse me!” a voice cuts her off, “You're the ones the Ministry sent, aren't you?” Hurrying from the inside of the station – somehow, you must have walked right past them – a young man rushes to meet you. By the looks of him, he's no stranger to the Ministry either. That harried, stressed look is all too common among their sort, or so you've come to believe. “One male, older, one female, younger. It all fits – you MUST be from the Ministry!”

“Sure,” there is a light mockery in Lize's voice, “That's some kind of logic you got there.”

“I'm sorry, I was told to expect you. You must be the Hunter,” he nods to you before turning to Lize, “And you... are you from the College?”

Of course, you realise, a simple case of mistaken identity. Saburakh must have briefed the young man on you and Mirrah. A simple enough matter to straighten out.

-

“I didn't know Hunters could take assistants,” the clerk comments as he leads you through the hazy streets. He doesn't seem to know much, but he certainly isn't afraid to ask. He's been talking almost non-stop since you left the station.

It's not all that common, you tell him, but they often serve a useful purpose. Lending a spare pair of hands, offering skills that a Hunter might not necessarily have at the time, that sort of thing.

“I do all the heavy lifting, in other words,” Lize jokes, somehow managing to keep a straight face.

The clerk, bless him, almost looks like he believes her.

[1/2]

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>>1026577

Saburakh does not look happy. That's the first thing you notice about him when you arrive, the way his face is set in a dark frown of frustration and impatience. When he sees you, his expression only grows more dire. It's probably nothing personal. Probably.

“Hanson,” he barks, “Are you alone?”

No, you reply with a nod to Lize, but you didn't meet Mirrah on the trip down if that's what he's asking.

“Scholars,” the Ministry soldier grunts, “No sense of punctuality. The next train is due to arrive in a few hours, so the full briefing will have to wait until then. I want everyone to be on the same page.” Stalking around the room, Saburakh slowly cracks his knuckles like a man imagining his worst enemy. In the stillness that falls over the room, those little cracks sound as loud as gunshots. The few other Ministry staff in the room watch with nervous eyes as Saburakh prowls, unwilling to even so much as move.

Has Uriah arrived, you ask eventually, Uriah Bellerose?

“That little brat!” Saburakh lets out a harsh cough of laughter, “He's upstairs – resting, apparently. As soon as he arrived, he demanded both a room and some privacy. Little shit was lucky that I didn't throw him in one of the cells.”

Well, you think to yourself, that would certainly be a private room. Perhaps not exactly the standard that Uriah might be used to, but...

“Fine. Let the little bastard rest,” with a curt gesture, Saburakh looks around to you, “As I said, the briefing will have to wait until later. Do what you want until the next train comes in, but don't be late – we've had too many delays already.” Having said that, he returns to pacing the length of the room, and the rest of the staff return to fretfully working on... whatever they were supposed to be working on. “You can wait here if you want,” the Ministry soldier adds, without looking around, “Or you can see to any business you might have elsewhere. It doesn't matter to me.”

Truth be told, this isn't the worst thing that could happen. With a little time to yourself, you can take care of a few things. There was Abernath, the Hunter who sent Uriah to Artyom, and there was Uriah himself. It would be a terrible shame if you disturbed his “rest”.

>Wait for the next train to arrive
>Visit Abernath, and see what he knows
>Ask to speak with Saburakh in private
>Pay Uriah a visit
>Other

>>1026579
>>Visit Abernath, and see what he knows

>>1026579
>Visit Abernath, and see what he knows

>>1026579
>>Visit Abernath, and see what he knows

>>1026579
>Visit Abernath, and see what he knows
Knowledge quest!

There's a Hunter in town, you ask Saburakh, isn't there? Abernath – where is he likely to be?

“His home, I would say,” Saburakh replies promptly, “I can get one of my men to show you the way, he lives on the outskirts of town. Doesn't really leave the house much – you'll see why, I imagine, if you go and speak with him. He's a good citizen, never caused any trouble around town.”

They know each other?

“Hardly. I know that he doesn't get drunk and start brawls. I know that he's never caused a public scandal. Those are the things that matter to me,” one corner of Saburakh's mouth twitches in a dark smirk, “But from what I've heard, he's a good enough man as well. Perhaps not anyone who'll ever be well-loved, but he doesn't have any enemies around town either. Like I said, I only know him by reputation – you're better off seeing him for yourself.”

You'll do that, you decide, you've got a few things to talk with him about.

“I'm, uh, I'm gonna wait here, okay?” Lize tells you, “I mean, no harm in having someone here just in case Mirrah shows up after all, right? Besides, I'm just getting warm, I don't wanna go all the way out of town again.”

Shrugging, you gesture to one of the seats. Wait here then, you tell her, just don't cause any trouble.

“As if!” she cries, with a wide-eyed look of innocence.

-

“Abernath has a housekeeper, she does most of his shopping or takes care of anything in town,” the clerk, the same one as before, explains as he leads you through the foggy streets, “He's sort of a recluse. Makes sense really, considering... well, you'll know when you see him.”

Old Hunters always seem to end up this way, you think to yourself, isolated recluses clinging to the outskirts of civilisation. Little wonder, really – after spending their early years on the outside of society, why should they spend their latter years any differently? Besides, the city streets don't always suit your kind – better to be close to the wild, even if means living in isolation. Maybe you'll end up getting a little cottage of your own one day, you consider, a cosy little den to call your own.

“There we are, just ahead,” the clerk points to a faint and hazy light in the fog, “That should be Abernath's house. It's not that bad really, it just looks a little... well. You can find your own way back into town, can't you?”

You'll manage, you assure the young man, you'll be back soon.

“Best not to keep Saburakh waiting,” he murmurs gravely, before turning and walking away. A few paces, and he's swallowed up by the fog. Shrugging your shoulders, you fix your eyes upon that dull glow and forge ahead through the gloom.

It's not long before you see the skulls, all animal and all mounted upon crude wooden stakes.

[1/2]

>>1026603

Hunters all tend to have something in common – an animal look. Perhaps unsurprisingly, a kind of wolfish look is most commonly seen, but there are also a great many who resembles bears. Krebs was one of those, with his looming form and sullen demeanour. Abernath, by contrast, is one of the rarer ones – his face brings to mind a boar, although you couldn't say exactly why. Just the impression you get from him.

The second impression you get is one of understanding. It's easy to see why he's a recluse, and why he rarely leave the house. His legs, both of them, end shortly below the knee.

Despite the late hour, Abernath seems perfectly happy to see you, urging his housekeeper – a dour, grim looking woman by the name of Greta – to allow you in. As you sit opposite him, trying not to glance at the stumps of his legs, you think of something to say. Nice decorations, you eventually manage.

“The skulls? I thought you might like them,” Abernath chuckles, a fantastically dirty sound, “A shame there's no wind today, you should hear the sounds they make when the breeze is just right. Beautiful really. Terrifies some of the local children, and fascinates just as many. I killed them all myself, you know.”

The animals, you guess after a short pause, not the local children.

Throwing back his head, Abernath rasps out a long laugh. “Of course, of course,” still grinning – or perhaps leering – he pushes a curtain of greying hair out of his eyes and continues, “So then, I don't expect you came here to talk about my decorations. What brings you all the way out here?”

You had a few questions about one of the local Hunters, you tell him, can he help?

“Oh I'm sure I can,” Abernath nods, “You'd be surprised at how much I know. Words has a way of find me, and I have a way of spreading that word about. Hunters often come here, asking if I've heard of anything good, any work that needs doing. When I can, I send them on their way. I used to train them as well, but... well, that ended rather abruptly.” As if he needed to elaborate on that, the Old Hunter nods down to his stumps. “So then, what did you want to know?”

>How did you hear about Old Grey, down in Artyom?
>Uriah Bellerose – what do you know about him?
>Have you heard anything about what's happening on Tolnir?
>I had a question to ask... (Write in)
>Other

>>1026622
>How did you hear about Old Grey, down in Artyom?
>Uriah Bellerose – what do you know about him?
"Kinda unorthodox isn't it? Sending a pup like him up against something unknown like Old Grey. Why'd you do it?"
>Have you heard anything about what's happening on Tolnir?

>>1026622
>>1026625
Basically this

>>1026622
>>How did you hear about Old Grey, down in Artyom?
>>Uriah Bellerose – what do you know about him?
Seems like a cool guy.

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>>1026625
I kinda hope he sent him in the hope he'll get killed, turns out that was what his blood needed to turn into a badass much to everyone's chagrin.

>>1026622
>>Have you heard anything about what's happening on Tolnir?

You were down in Artyom not so long ago, you begin, you saw-

“The Old Grey business,” Abernath cuts you off, “Lord, that was a mess. Glad it all got straightened out, even if it didn't quite play out like I thought it might.”

Yes, you continue, that mess – how did he first hear about it?

“Oh, word always gets around. I believe some people actually got scared enough to sell up and move here, they were the ones who first brought word of it. Of course, it was all just rumours at point, as far as we knew. It wasn't until later that we started taking it seriously,” the Old Hunter shrugs faintly, “One group of people brings a wild story like that, you smile and nod. Three groups bring you the same story, you sit up and take notice. Still, I figured it wouldn't last – plenty of Hunters down in Artyom, after all. I thought maybe Bannerman would take care of it.”

She gave it a shot, you tell him, but it didn't come to anything.

“She's getting soft,” although Abernath's voice is kind enough, the gesture he makes is strangely dismissive, “Settling down, or so I hear. I suppose it's her choice.”

A choice he disapproves of, you note. Uriah Bellerose, you ask next, what does he know about the young Hunter? It was pretty unorthodox sending him, a young pup, after Old Grey. Why did he do it?

“That... might not make much sense. Not without a bit of background,” pausing, Abernath takes a small bell from the nearby table and rings it. The sound it makes is mournful, barely louder than a murmur. “Background,” the Old Hunter repeats, “And tea. An old man like me gets thirsty, talking for too long.”

As you both wait, you take the chance to glance about the room. It's a gloomy place, with the open fire and a hissing gas lantern as the only sources of light. Not a fan of modern electrical power, you have to assume. A few more trophies, skulls like the ones outside, line the walls. You recognise deer, wolves, a single deformed bear skull, and a few others that don't fall into any neat category. Greta's return, carrying the tea upon a wooden tray, brings your attention back to the present moment.

“Uriah Bellerose,” Abernath muses as he spoons honey into the black tea, “I trained him, you know – a few years back, when I still had legs. How would I describe him? Let me see... uninspired. Lazy. Petulant, even. Never before have I met someone who resented being a Wolf quite so much. He passed every test I gave him, but just barely. The absolute minimum of effort, that was as much as he'd ever give me. Awful brat, if I'm being honest.”

That all seems to fit with what Sokolov told you. So after he finished training, you press, what happened with him?

[1/2]

>>1026656

“Nothing much. He looked set for a fine future of killing rats in basements,” chuckling bitterly, Abernath takes a sip of sweetened tea, “Then I heard talk, word that he might get thrown out if he didn't shape up. Can't take the blood from his veins, obviously, but they can always take away your papers. Maybe the thought of a warehouse job was even worse than being a Hunter, because he came here looking all panicked. Wanted something big – something that would save his worthless hide.”

Old Grey, you guess. When he told Uriah about it, you ask Abernath, what was he expecting?

“Honestly? For the little shit to come back as rags,” Abernath, apparently, is not one to soften his words, “Hunters can't be lazy. You either learn that quickly, or you die. He hadn't learned, so I figured...”

But he didn't die, you point out, he succeeded.

“And I'd bloody well like to know how!” slapping the arm of his chair, Abernath's voice grows louder, “Oh, I've heard his version of events, and I don't believe two words of it. He might be the man of the moment now, but I'm not convinced. He brings in a second prize, maybe I'll change my mind about him. Until then...”

So what was he like as a trainee, you ask, was he still dressing in fancy clothes?

“Oh sure, and complaining whenever he got them dirty. Wasn't arsing around with a sword though, not then. No horse either,” Abernath chuckles, his mood settling once more, “I figured he came from money, but I didn't make much of it. Only heard the rumours later – they certainly put things in a different light. Something he said once...” Pausing to take a drink of tea, Abernath furrows his brow and thinks. “He said “My life ended on the flip of a coin”, or... something like that. I didn't know what to make of it at the time. I just thought it was his usual whining tripe.”

It probably was. Now, though, what does he make of it?

“Well, see, I once heard someone telling me about bloodlines. When two folks mix – say, a Dragon and a Wolf – you might as well toss a coin to see which one the child ends up as. It's one of the two, never anything else. If he IS a noble bastard, and he showed up as a Dragon...” Abernath makes another vague gesture, “Well, maybe he'd be brought into the family proper. He shows up as a Wolf, though... he's shit out of luck.”

Which might explain his bad attitude, you consider. He must feel cheated, robbed of a life of luxury. Then again, maybe he would have been a shit either way – just a shit with wealth and status. Was there anything else odd about him, you ask, any physical problems?

“Hmm,” frowning, Abernath toys with his teacup, “Never quite got the hang of tracking by scent. I figured maybe he was just not trying hard enough, but... I'm not so sure, now.”

Interesting. Maybe.

[2/3]

>>1026676

In either case, you say with a shrug, you were just wondering about him. You'll be working with the boy soon, and you wanted to know what to expect. He's been very helpful.

“Working, eh?” Abernath gives you a sly smile, “Let me guess... you're going to need a raincoat. Am I close?”

Tolnir, you reply, sure – what – and how - does he know about it?

“I told you, word has a way of finding its way to me,” the Old Hunter chuckles again, “Not a lot of word yet, mind you. Missing fishermen mostly, their ships empty and abandoned. Too many for storms to be to blame. Creepy, if you ask me – it makes me think of awful, slimy things sneaking up in the night and snatching people away. Just... dragging them into the sea, never to be seen again.”

Sounds like a story to scare children, you mutter, teach them not to play around in the ocean.

“Oh, I'm sure,” he nods, “Just old stories. I heard something similar when I was young – it sure worked, I never even went near the ocean until I was a young man. Never liked it much either, it's so... big.” His words trail off here, a faint glaze creeping across his eyes before he snaps back to the present. “Ah, forgive an old man his ramblings. Yes, I've heard about Tolnir, but I couldn't tell you what's going on there,” lowering his voice to a ghoulish whisper, Abernath leans a little closer, “Maybe they're all going mad and throwing themselves into the sea!”

Maybe they are, you reply quietly, you're not going to rule anything out quite yet.

“A wise precaution. Here's another little pearl of wisdom for you,” leaning back Abernath adopts a more serious expression, “Be careful on Tolnir. They're an insular folk down there. Isolation does strange thing to men.”

He says that without a hint of irony or self-awareness. It's actually quite impressive.

>Head back to the Ministry. It's about time you were getting back
>Ask a few last questions... (Write in)
>Other

>>1026683
>>Head back to the Ministry. It's about time you were getting back

>>1026683
>Head back to the Ministry. It's about time you were getting back

>>1026683
>>Head back to the Ministry. It's about time you were getting back

With that, you feel the conversation reaching a natural end. Rising to your feet, you thank Abernath for his time and his knowledge – and for the tea.

“All freely given,” he assures you, “Stop by again, if you wish. I can't promise much more in the way of help, but I never turn away a guest. Oh, and... could you do something for me?” A strange look passes across the old man's face as he swallows, picking his next words with care. “If Uriah really has changed his ways, and if he really has become a Hunter that's worth a damn...” another pause, Abernath's eyes growing slightly misty, “Would you tell him that I'm proud of him?”

Alright, you reply with a solemn nod, you'll be sure to tell him.

“And if he's not changed,” the sombre moment comes to a crashing end as Abernath's eyes sharpen once more, “Give him a slap around the head and tell him it's from me!”

You'll keep that in mind, you confirm. Privately, you'd got a pretty good idea of which one is more likely.

-

A light, misty rain has started to fall as you walk back to the Ministry office, but at least the fog has thinned a little to make up for it. A few more people are on the streets now, scurrying in their own separate directions in search of shelter. You were gone longer than you thought, you realise, the train must have just pulled in. Passing the station is enough to confirm that, the muffled sounds of an old engine drifting from within, and so you put a spot of extra haste in your steps.

The Ministry office feels more active, more alive, when you return. Saburakh is still pacing, Lize is still sitting on her chair with her face buried in a book, but Uriah has shown himself. With a typically insolent look on his face, he leans against the wall and watches Saburakh's restless motions.

“Good,” Saburakh barks when you arrive, “You're back. Now all we need-”

“I'm sorry I'm late!” Mirrah yelps, crashing through the door a scant few moments after you, “I had to fetch a number of books at the last minute, and it took longer than I thought, so I missed the train. I'm sorry!”

Uriah watches the floundering Scholar with faint amusement, but Saburakh just sighs. It's time, at last, for the briefing.

-

“Before we begin,” Saburakh explains, “This briefing will have two sections – facts and rumours. We'll start with the information that I can confirm... what little of it there is. There have been a number of disappearances on and around Tolnir lately, mostly fishermen vanishing from their ships. Violent action cannot be discounted yet, but there has been no evidence suggesting it either. Make no mistake – people do not just disappear for no reason. Our job is to discover the cause, and put an end to it.”

“I can't wait,” Uriah mutters, absolute disinterest in his low voice.

[1/2]

>>1026728

“To complicate matters, there are significant areas of uncertainty – including, but not limited to, the precise number of disappearances,” stalking from one end of the narrow briefing room to the other, Saburakh methodically punches one clenched fist into the palm of his hand, “Our best guesses range from a dozen to nearly twenty. Our next step-”

“You don't even know how many people are missing?” Uriah asks, raising his voice to cut in, “Pardon me, sir, but this seems to be a simple matter – either they are there, or they are not. I fail to see why you can't be more precise.”

Stopping in the middle of his pacing, Saburakh slowly turns to face Uriah. “Only a few ships were recovered,” he begins slowly, “They were found in the open water, deserted and with no signs of a struggle. Either the crew abandoned perfectly good vessels with no apparent reason, or something forced their disappearance. Perhaps you can offer an explanation?”

“Sir, I would not presume to do your job for you,” the young bastard sounds shocked at the idea, “I merely wished to-”

“The uncertainty comes from the ships that we have NOT recovered,” practically snarling, Saburakh continues, “It is possible that the crews of those ships have simply taken their vessels far from Tolnir. Perhaps they will never return – ultimately, they are not our main concern. Now, if I may continue?”

“By all means,” Uriah gives a languid, arrogant shrug, “Unless anyone else wishes to add anything?”

“Yeah, uh, why would someone just sail their ship off into the open water like that?” Lize asks with a frown, “It sounds kinda... dumb to me.”

“Exploration, wanderlust, rumours of treasure or sites of historical significance,” Mirrah answers quickly, listing items off on her fingers, “After all, the southern colonies themselves were discovered by a ship searching for new lands. Who's to say that there are not lands to the east and the west as well?”

“But like, we're not talking about large ships here,” Lize points out, “We're talking about fishing vessels. They wouldn't make it very far without, y'know, vanishing.”

“Admittedly, their chances of success are slim at best,” Mirrah concedes the point, “but-”

“Enough!” Saburakh shouts, his frayed patience finally snapping, “We may never be able to find those ships or their crew - I want you to focus on what we CAN do. When we reach Tolnir, you can waste your own time with idle speculation. For now, I'm still trying to conduct a briefing!”

Please, you say as a cold silence falls over the room, continue.

“Very well then. Rumours,” a particularly displeased frown settles over Saburakh's face, “This new information reached me this morning. It is yet to be confirmed – keep that in mind.”

Everyone, you note, seems to get that little bit more interested at this.

[2/3]

>>1026762

Slipping a piece of folded paper from his pocket, Saburakh carefully checks his notes before returning his cold eyes to the group. “This morning, a local fisherman by the name of Lago came to the Ministry. The previous day, while out on the open waters, he had encountered a sailor from Tolnir. After calling across to each other, the two sailors dropped anchor and talked more. The man from Tolnir had been drinking, and his tongue was especially loose. The story he told was disturbing enough that Lago reported it to the Ministry as soon as he was able.”

“I'm sure it was quite the tale,” Uriah raises a curious eyebrow, “Drunk men often have many fine tales to tell.”

“The man spoke about a healer. Not a doctor of the College, but someone who could cure illness with a single drop of some unidentified medicine. Illnesses that have no known cure or remedy. Not just illness either, but this potion was said to bring strength back to withered limbs – even allowing a crippled man to walk again,” pausing, Saburakh fixes each of you in turn, “Yes, I will admit, this is all unconfirmed talk from a drunken sailor. Regardless, it needs to be taken into account. If possible, I would like to find this fisherman and question him personally.”

This Lago, you ask, did he get a name of the ship? That would help track down the drunk.

“His ship was named the Sweet Pearl,” Saburakh answers, “An easy name to remember.”

“Excuse me,” Mirrah seems reluctant to ask her question, “But is it not more likely that this healer WAS just a College-trained physician, and the confusion is due to, ah...”

“Ignorance?” Uriah suggests. Mirrah winces at the blunt word, but accepts it with a nod.

“That may be the case,” frowning, Saburakh accepts the point with a nod, “However, I am unwilling to discount these rumours for one particular reason – the crippled man. He broke his back working as a fisherman. Upon recovering, he returned to work. His boat was one of the ones recovered, empty.”

Conveniently hiding any evidence of the miraculously healed man, you point out.

“Quite so,” folding his arms, Saburakh sighs, “We've had numerous problems with getting information out of Tolnir. They seem... reluctant to share information with us. Our first goal should be to learn more about the situation. A ship has been prepared – we can leave as soon as we're finished here. Does anyone have any questions, or anything to add?”

>Tolnir is supposed to have a College outpost. Have we heard anything from it?
>I don't know much about Tolnir. What can you tell me about it?
>Are we expecting any kind of violence?
>I had a question... (Write in)
>Other

>>1026803
>>Tolnir is supposed to have a College outpost. Have we heard anything from it?

>>1026803
>>Tolnir is supposed to have a College outpost. Have we heard anything from it?
>Are we expecting any kind of violence?
Someone got a hold of giants blood maybe?

>>1026803
>Tolnir is supposed to have a College outpost. Have we heard anything from it?

Like we thought, it's the same place Krebs went to.

If Glorious Knight is involved we can speculate a little. Artemis said Glorious gets a congregation around him but is ultimately full of shit. Bullshit about some universal healing could get followers.

>>1026803
>Do we have any Ministry personnel stationed there? Someone who is familiar with the people there?

>>1026813
>Glorious gets a congregation around him but is ultimately full of shit.

Sound like anyone we know?

>>1026830
Maybe like father like son?

Total shot in the dark though, but I am wondering if Uriah's father's identity is of any importance.

Tolnir is supposed to have a College outpost, you ask, has there been any word from it?

Your question hangs in the air for a moment, all eyes turning to Mirrah and causing her to pale. “Ah, well, yes,” she takes a moment to compose herself, “There IS a small extension of the College in Tolnir. However, it is small and poorly equipped – it primarily offers rudimentary medical care and examines specimens recovered from the area. Anything too delicate to survive transportation to the College itself is studied there. It's only used rarely, as I understand it, and no serious research is undertaken there. It simply doesn't have the resources or equipment for that.”

“I see,” Saburakh considers this, “I was aware that the College had a presence on the island, but I was unclear on the specifics. It only rarely sends reports, and of late it has become completely silent. Secondary priority, therefore, should go to investigating the College outpost.”

“I'm sorry, but...” Mirrah swallows hard, “But what are you trying to suggest?”

“I'm suggesting that the College may have something to do with this,” Saburakh's answer is cold and calm, almost daring Mirrah to argue or object, “I don't entirely trust your ilk when I DO know what you're doing. When I don't, and that is definitely the case here, I'm not about to take any chances. Will this be a problem for you?”

“...No,” shaking her head, Mirrah wilts slightly, “But I'm sure that the College is innocent. I'm sure of it!”

A sneer starts to form on Saburakh's face, and a sense of impending disaster begins to form within you. Seeking to spare the young archivist, you step in with another question. Should you expect any kind of violence, you ask, any kind of armed resistance from the locals?

“The possibility cannot be discounted,” Saburakh's eyes narrow, his attention dropping away from Mirrah, “However, it IS considered a remote possibility. I would be a lot happier if I had more men to bring, in case of any violent action, but there are shortages. We will be on our own, possibly cut off if the locals do prove hostile. As such, I expect you all to be alert and aware of your surroundings at all times.”

“I rather doubt the locals will try anything,” Uriah points out, “I've read about Tolnir. Peasants, the lot of them. They'll naturally recognise authority when they see it.”

Speaking of authority, you add, is there an existing Ministry presence on the island? Someone you could rely on, perhaps, someone who knows the locals?

[1/2]

>>1026841
>Peasants, the lot of them. They'll naturally recognise authority when they see it.”

But whose authority are they going to recognize is the question. Ours or someone else's?

>>1026841

“There is a Ministry base stationed on Tolnir, yes. Small, and mainly focused on maintaining hygiene standards among the fishermen, but the agents stationed there will know the area and the locals. The man is charge is...” frowning, Saburakh thinks for a moment, “Excuse me, the woman in charge is Yulia Lagunov. She is... good enough for the job she has been given.” Distaste colours Saburakh's features as he says this.

“Uh, wait,” Lize raises a hand, “Does that mean she'd be terrible at, like, a more important job?”

“I mean, she is primarily focused on issues of hygiene,” Saburakh says slowly, “Issues where she is unlikely to be shot at. In this role, she is sufficient. When a more dangerous situation arises, a more appropriate agent is deployed – as is the way of the Ministry. Lagunov can provide local information. That will be enough.”

So there's no love lost between the pair of them, you think, not exactly what you wanted to learn. Whatever the issue is, hopefully it won't get in the way of things. With that last comment, the briefing is just about concluded. There's just one last question, this time from Mirrah.

“Do we have any evidence of disease or an epidemic?” she asks quietly.

“No major outbreaks have been reported or suspected,” Saburakh's answer is decisive, “We have no reason to suspect a pandemic.”

Nobody in the room would admit it, but everyone relaxes slightly upon hearing those words. At least a little bit of the tension escapes.

-

“Man, this is weird,” Lize mutters as you're leaving the briefing, “I don't know what's going on here. I mean, I don't think any of us know what's going on. Hey, I gotta ask – who was the fop? Pretty odd to see someone dressed all fancy like out here. Nobles are supposed to be in the capital, right?” She offers a wan grin at that, the irony of her words apparent and obvious to both of you.

Uriah Bellerose, you explain, a young Hunter. Hasn't she heard of him?

“Huh, oh yeah. They mentioned him on the radio. Really, I figured they were making too big a deal of it. I mean, you've killed all kinds of stuff and I've never heard them saying your name on the radio,” shrugging, Lize glances across, “He sure was paying attention, though. Soon as they started talking about that healer gossip, his ears perked right up. I guess a lot of folk get interested when they hear about a miracle cure.”

Maybe, you murmur. Had he really taken such careful notice of the rumours? Your attention, unfortunately, had been elsewhere – focused on the job at hand, rather than watching an attractive young man.

“H-hey, what are you trying to imply?” Lize shakes her head quickly, “I was paying attention, I was paying all kinds of attention!”

Of course she was.

>I'm going to have to pause here for a little. Got a bad headache making things difficult. I'll continue ASAP

>>1026883

Thats ok
Tak5w all you need thanks for so far

>>1026883
Lize best girl, noticing things we missed.

No problem Moloch, take your time.

>>1026883
Maybe you'd better sleep it off. A headache makes concentrating on anything difficult.

>>1026883
Aw, I got here too late to vote on telling Aberneth he's a real stand up guy.

So we only have one confirmed person who got a miracle cure? Suspicious that he also vanished. Now, I'm not saying they're turning into fish-people, but I'm saying it might be Dagon.

Also goddamnit, why are Snakes so uniformly terrible in this setting? Every goddamn time.

I'm thinking we might be too hostile to Uriah as well. I mean, yeah he's an annoying little shit, but it kind of does sound like he's got some shit in his background to be bitter about.Not enough to justify going full Sasuke like he is, but still I don't think he really ever got a lot of help getting over it.

Just tossing this out here, but maybe we could take a moment to talk to him. You know, tell him that his hunt with the Wolf was impressive, but hunting men is a different and sometimes even more dangerous task.

Try to lead him into us talking about the most dangerous man we had to hunt, the White Tyrant - who turned out to have Dragon blood. Never know the kind of surprise a man can throw at you.

Mostly I want to see how he reacts to a Wolf killing a Dragon, what his attitude about possibly killing people are, etc. Maybe bring up Aberneth and ask what it was like training under him, talk about our own teacher a bit.

Bond, you know?

Not react to any interruptions he might give, both to not get side-tracked and also because a lack of reaction either way will probably irritate him. He's probably used to speaking out and either arguing like with Saburakh or being flattered by "peasants".

File: Uriah Bellerose.jpg (284 KB, 540x800)

284 KB JPG

>>1026883

What had been a light rain when you arrived at the Ministry has escalated into a full blown downpour, thick sheets of icy cold rain hammering down upon you. The streets are slick with water, while the gutters have turned into frothy rivers. The few people you had seen on the streets earlier have, rather wisely, vanished. The only people willing to brave the weather are fools like you.

Saburakh doesn't wait a moment or even look back to make sure that you're following – he simply strides out into the street and marches towards the docks. Mirrah lets out a low wail of dismay at the sight, but soon follows – perhaps fearing the Ministry man more than a little bit of bad weather. You and Lize are next, with Uriah last of all. Even as you hurry through the streets, you can hear him complaining to himself, a constant stream of trivial whining. His boots – he's worried about his boots, of all things.

Although you have to admit, they are very good boots.

-

Once you arrive at the Ministry ship, everyone – even Saburakh – hurries below deck. There, smaller groups take form. Lize and Mirrah retreat to talk in hushed tones, often glancing across at Uriah, while Saburakh find a quiet corner to strip his pistol. He does it with the practised motions of an obsessed man, and you have no doubt that he could strip, clean and reassemble the gun with his eyes closed. Everyone needs a hobby, you think to yourself.

As the ship begins to move, Uriah shakes out a Ministry issue cloak – a waterproof, the cloth glossy with wax – and heads back up on deck. Odd, you think to yourself, considering his reaction to the earlier weather. Maybe the damage has already been done. Still, curiosity soon gets the better of you, and you follow him up. When the first pulse of rain strikes you in the face, however, you immediately regret your decision.

Uriah is standing at the prow of the ship, his eyes set on the blank, featureless horizon. Tolnir is still a few hours away, but still he stares out at the ocean. Shrugging to yourself, you cross the wet deck and join him.

“Nice weather, wouldn't you say?” he remarks, raising his voice above the sounds of the engine and the rain.

It has a certain charm, you lie.

Not much of a conversation, you'll admit, but it's a start.

>We got off on the wrong foot. Why don't we start fresh?
>I met Abernath today. He was your old teacher, wasn't he?
>You're interested in these healer rumours, aren't you?
>We could end up fighting men. You should be prepared for that
>I wanted to ask you something... (Write in)
>Other

>>1026950
>You're interested in these healer rumours, aren't you?

Don't ask about fighting men like this, it can come off as doubting him.

>>1026950
>>I met Abernath today. He was your old teacher, wasn't he?
>>You're interested in these healer rumours, aren't you?

>>1026950
>I met Abernath today. He was your old teacher, wasn't he?
>You're interested in these healer rumours, aren't you?

>>1026950
>I met Abernath today. He was your old teacher, wasn't he?
>You're interested in these healer rumours, aren't you?

"How do you like being a Hunter?"

>>1026977
Hates it and would rather be a Dragon is my guess.

>>1026978
Let's get the answer from the horse's mouth.

You met with Abernath today, you begin, you had tea with him. He was Uriah's old teacher, wasn't he?

Uriah glances around at you, finally taking his eyes away from the horizon. His face is streaked with rain, a dismal stream running from the tip of his nose. After a moment more, he nods. “I will admit, he was the one who trained me,” the young Hunter says, “I dare say that he didn't have many good things to say about me.”

And just how the hell does he expect you to answer that, you wonder, does he really want to know the truth? You're still trying to think of a suitably neutral answer when your expression tells Uriah all that he needs to know. Rather than any offence or outrage, the young man laughs aloud.

“We never did see eye to eye,” he admits, “Tell me, sir, how old were you when you started training?”

Another question that you can't really answer. It's long enough ago that the time has started to run together, memories growing hazy and indistinct. Young, you tell him with a shrug, probably too young.

“Something that happens all too often, or so I've heard,” Uriah nods sagely, “In truth, Abernath more or less raised me. Certainly, I spent more time under his care than... than under the care of anyone else. So, when I saw that we never saw eye to eye, I don't mean to imply that I hated him. Merely that I saw him as...” A rumble of thunder stirs the air as Uriah falls silent, his frown dimly visible in the gloom. “A placeholder, I suppose,” he finishes with a thoughtful shrug, “Or perhaps an interloper.”

He's being strangely open, you muse, strangely willing to talk about what might normally be a very personal thing.

“Rain, I find, is the best weather for introspection,” he replies, “It sets the mood rather nicely, wouldn't you say?”

Good weather for catching a cold as well, you point out.

“Well, it's a good thing that we're going to an island with a healer, isn't it?” despite the attempt at ironic amusement, Uriah can't keep a note of excitement from stealing into his voice. His hands grip the ship's railings a little tighter, and his shoulders stiffen. Lize was right, you realise, he really is focused on this.

Does he really believe those rumours, you ask lightly, stories about a healer and their miracle potion?

“You, sir, should understand better than anyone else the value of such a thing,” caution creeps into Uriah's voice, “Perhaps our Ministry friend is right to doubt these stories, but I'm not prepared to simply discard them as peasant folklore. I believe that fortune has put this opportunity before me for a reason. If this healer, or whatever cure they use, is real... I need to know.”

He's still young, you point out, he's got time ahead of him. There's no need to get desperate just yet.

“I am young, yes,” Uriah accepts your point with a nod, “But perhaps this cure would not be for me.”

[1/2]

>>1026999

Then who, you wonder, would it be for? For his Dragon father, in the hope that such a priceless gift might finally earn Uriah his perceived birthright? Or perhaps he seeks it for the whole of society – and the knowledge that whoever discovered such a cure would be a hero to rival Tsorig himself.

Which raises an interesting question – if this healer really exists, and can really do what the rumours claim, why are they languishing on an isolated island? The obvious answer – they don't want fame or fortune, they want... something else. What that might be, though, you couldn't say.

Shrugging, you file that question away for later. For now, all this talk of Abernath have given you something else to wonder about. So, you ask Uriah, how is he finding being a Hunter?

“I try and bring a little elegance and grandeur to the trade, but I must say...” Uriah winces faintly, “It's a rather dirty business. Filthy, even, with all that blood and the scent of beasts. Yet, I cannot deny that it all has a certain... appeal to it. The power, the thrill when you see victory lying ahead and seize it with your own two hands. Make no mistake, sir, I yearn for a more civilised way of Hunting, but... perhaps it is not the curse I once thought it was. Perhaps Abernath told you, but I was something of a reluctant student. Certainly, I could not live up to his standards.”

Was it that bad, you ask, was he a harsh teacher?

“Harsh? Perhaps not, but he enjoyed his work far more than I did. His greatest pleasure, or so I always thought, was to run through the wilderness,” a slight smile touches the corners of Uriah's mouth, “Tell me, does he still act in such a beastly fashion?”

Well, you reply with an awkward cough, he doesn't run much these days.

>I'm going to pause things here for today. I'll continue this tomorrow, and I'll stick around in case anyone has any questions
>Sorry about the delays today!

>>1027033
Thanks for running!

>>1027033
Thanks for running Moloch

>>1026803
Calling it now, medicine turns you into good cult member of the slug. Uriah is promised turning into a snake, takes it like a gullible idiot. Lize might not once we convince her, or just won't of her own accord, since she's not gullible.

>>1027191
>snake
Dragon*

Sort of the same thing.

>>1027191
>>1027196
>Uriah gets accidentally turned into a pseudosnake instead
>He's so pissed from indignation he breaks free from the control

>>1027214
I like him.
Then again, I think Wehrlain would've made for a good protagonist.