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“While I like the idea of getting our own place,” you begin, “should we talk to Gabby about it as well?”

Rowe snorts before laughing. (What? Why would we talk to her about it?)

“Uhhhhh,” you sound out, thinking of what to follow up with. “Maybe she should be included in the considerations for us getting a new place? See if she wants to join in on the idea of a bigger house.”

Rowe cocks an eyebrow. (Look, I admit the sex was good but it's not worth dealing with Gabby as a roommate. If we want her to join in again I think she can deal with making the walk to wherever we move. Can you actually imagine living in the same house as Gabby for . . . well any period of time, really.)

“Well –”

(I've found a total of three empty beer bottles in our room since I've been practically stuck in here. Three, Alan. As far as I could tell she entered here with zero so I'm baffled about how she managed to litter three around the place in one night.)

You shrug and chuckle, letting Pascala win the tug of war and bound away to the corner of the room with her rat chew toy. “Maybe we just need to housebreak her?”

Rowe gives you a look.

“I did say very sexy, puppy,” you point out.

(Alan, you can't just bring wild animals into the house and think you can domesticate them.)

You cast a glance towards Sif.

(That's different.)

“ . . . Could we have a guestroom for Du'kov?” you ask more hopefully, changing the subject.

(Oh sure. Letting him continue to live in one of those hostels in Seaside should qualify as child endangerment.)

You take a second to think things over, pondering on the entire concept. “Eh, maybe we should sit on it and think it over.”

Your half-elf lover nods. (No need to rush into things. There's still room for Sif yet.) She leans forward on the bed and wraps her arms around her wolf, petting him behind the ears furiously.

As you watch your girlfriend play with her glorified, over-sized dog, your own furry four-legged friend starts growling.

The both of you are alarmed and look over to where Pascala scampered off to. She seems to be shaking the rat toy furiously in her maw, snarling the whole while.

. . . Except you spy her chew toy discarded on the ground a few feet away from where she now is.

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(Yuck. How did a rat get in here.) Rowe thinks as she notices the same discrepancy as yourself.

Pascala tosses the dead thing to the side, letting it slam into the wall and fall lifelessly to the ground. She continues to snarl at it. She lets out a few warning barks.

Hmmm, from here you can tell the rodent is of an unusual size. You've seen a few that abnormally big in cages at the Research Library before. And a few others scampering down in the sewers or through the seedier back alleys in Seaside. Generally they are nothing more than a nuisance, but every once in awhile some of the greener recruits are forced to cull their numbers, especially after incidents where the most aggressive ones end up biting one of the orc children and infecting it with what the locals call 'Filth Fever'. The worst of them can grow to the size of small dogs. And while that isn't much of an issue for you, you'd believe Bartom and Eve might disagree.

This one in particular has a coat of very coarse fur and a long scabby tail.

>Pick it up and toss it away
>Search for how it got into your room
>Something else? (write-in)

>>1072657
>Search for how it got into your room

>>1072657
>>Search for how it got into your room

Roll me 1d100 + 25, best of 3.

Rolled 94 + 25 (1d100 + 25)

>>1072693

Rolled 61 (1d100)

>>1072693

>>1072657
become a nigger

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Hmmm, you immediately notice the dead rat is wet. Its fur matted to its flesh. Not only that but the smell is something awful, although that might just be a result of your metaphysical connection to your dog, her nose much more powerful a receptor of scents than your own. The vermin is practically water-logged it is so drenched.

While that piece of information gives you a strong hunch already as to what path this rodent took to get here, you still spend a few seconds casting your eyes across the floor looking for the telltale signs of travel so you can retrace the animal's steps. Sure enough, tiny wet splotches the size of tiny rat feet litter the nice carpet of your room, starting from where Pascala must have picked it up off the ground in her teeth and receding all the way back into your bathroom.

You follow the obvious trail and see a small puddle of water right beside your toilet, the seat of which is also covered in droplets of liquid.

Great. You're going to have to clean Pascala's mouth with something. You don't want her licking your face with toilet water. God, that was one dedicated as fuck rat if it decided to climb up five floors of plumbing from the sewers to randomly emerge into your room. Most of them make their nests in the sewer so this isn't too crazy of a happening, especially considering the extent of weird possibilities here on the Island. One thing's for sure though.

You're going to need to get that decanter of endless holy water up in here and maybe a bar of blessed soap if that's a thing.

“ALAN!” Rowe suddenly calls out for you. You turn on your heels and burst back into the bedroom, searching for whatever has distressed her.

She's holding her enchanted composite longbow in one hand which glows with a variety of the swirling colors of magic and an arrow in the other as she seems prepared to draw and loose at a moment's notice.

Her target?

That dead rat.

. . . well you thought it was dead.

It looks around, its glittering beady eyes searching as it sniffs the air. Sif has now raised his head, eyes glued to the rat's form. Pascala continues to growl at the now standing toilet rat.

(I watched it regenerate from its wounds.) She thinks at you quickly.

Oh shit. This is one powerful rat.

>Cast speak with animals
>Hit it with a ray of frost
>Shoot the rat with your shotgun
>Something else? (write-in)

>>1072850
>Hit it with a ray of frost
freeze it, then cast speak with animals and then talk to it.

>>1072850
>>1072859
Seconding

>>1072850
>Hit it with a ray of frost
As fun as the shotgun is it is OUR floor we'd have to clean after.

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You point your index finger forward at the inquisitive, unsuspecting rat and speak the words that start a small, frost-blue point of mystical energy radiating from the tip of your outstretched digit. The rat isn't actively attempting to dodge your arcane attack and is a big enough target that with your dead eye aim makes this shot trivial.

A small line of freezing cold shoots forward in a straight line, making its way downwards diagonally where it eventually smacks the small animal right in the chest.

It squeaks indignantly at being assaulted, as the force of your magical attack knocks the creature on its back. You capitalize on its momentary loss of balance and its prone position to rush towards the little bugger and slam your boot down on it, holding the struggling, wriggling creature in place. Unable to escape from beneath your heel, the wet rat ceases its struggling and lies there at your mercy.

You cast the second to last charge of Speak with Animals you have remaining in your magical reserves without meditating to restore them.

“Hello there,” you squeak to the helpless animal, after the spell has begun to work its magic.

“Kill it, Master Alan!” Pascala barks at you, excited for the hunt.

“Oh . . .” your furry, four-legged intruder squeaks back. “You can speak rat.”

“Yep. For the moment. Are you lost, buddy?”

“I . . . don't think I am.” He sniffs the air tentatively. “You smell like the right folks.”

“What do you mean the right folks?” you ask, furrowing your brow.

“Thragg said you were alright,” the rat explains.

“Who is Thragg?” you inquire. The name sound Orcish, but unfamiliar other than that.

“He said you helped him out and gave him a silver dagger. Warned him of a rival tribe of yours that was here to exploit us. You're, uh, humans, right?”

Oh. OH! The skinwalker orc. That could turn into a lion at will. Huh. From the way this rat-thing is talking, sounds like Thragg sugar-coated the story after the fact and neglected to mention how tense your initial interaction was.

Well, when you say initial, you aren't including the first part where you feathered him with arrows and buried him. You wonder for a moment if Thragg might have left that part out of any potential retellings as well. He did say it had hurt his pride.

“Did he send you to come find us?” you demand, your mind shifting from thinking of the past to focusing on the present.

“Uhhhh,” the rat sort of draws out. “No. I came here of my own accord. But I have a proposition for you! So . . . if you wouldn't mind . . . uh, releasing me please. And calling off your wolves.”

>Let up off the rat
>You can speak just fine as you are right now
>Flush him down the toilet
>Something else? (write-in)

>>1073017
>>You can speak just fine as you are right now

>>1073017
>You can speak just fine as you are right now
>Maybe if this talk goes well I can share some of my most wondrous cheese and other assorted foodstuffs with you.

>>1073017
>You can speak just fine as you are right now

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“You can speak just fine as you are right now,” you sternly tell the rat, keeping your pressure on its body with your boot firm. “If I like what you say I might share my best cheeses with you.”

“Well, uh . . . alright, um . . . SO,” he squeaks, drumming up as much theatricality as his rat vocal chords can muster while being held hostage under your heel. “Much farther inland, hidden within the mountain range whose peaks stretch to the very heavens, I know the location of an ancient, long-abandoned Dwarven fortress laden with magical artifacts and forgotten history grand enough to make any and all who venture within rich and powerful. I come to you today . . . tonight! With the opportunity to accompany me on an expedition to . . . Khagh Moldir!”

“And why have you chosen to ask us instead of your friends?” Rowe interrupts with a squeak. She must have cast her own Speak with Animals spell while you were focused on the rat to listen in on your conversation.

“Uh, well,” the rat hesitates, “They think it's far too dangerous. And I will not lie: the journey there may not be perilous, but inside there will be challenges and obstacles inside meant to slay and deter those of meager talents. But with a proper group of adventurous sorts I'm sure we'll be fine!”

>Sounds good
>We aren't interested
>So you're a skinchanger, right?
>Something else? (write-in)

>>1073188
>So you're a skinchanger, right?

>>1073196
>So you're a skinchanger, right?

>>1073196
>>So you're a skinchanger, right?

>>1073196
>>So you're a skinchanger, right?
>>Something else? (write-in)
who else knows about this hidden fortress?

Is it a legend among people or is it a closely guarded secret.

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“Who else knows about this fortress?” you inquire.

“Uh, well, the dwarves should know about it unless they forgot they made it or something. Also my entire group has heard me speak of it, but they're all too frightened of their own shadows to investigate with me.”

“So you're a skinchanger, right?” you ask.

“Uh, well my people prefer the term Moonferal, but yes. Orcs generally call those of us with this affliction skinchangers or skinwalkers. But that isn't a bother for you, right?” he chitters out a nervous laugh. “Thragg insisted that didn't bother you.”

>Thragg lied. Get out of my city and don't return
>It doesn't bother me as long as long as you don't infect people
>I'm not interested in your offer
>I'm interested in your offer
>Kill it with silver
>Something else? (write-in)

>>1073295
>>It doesn't bother me as long as long as you don't infect people
Specify infections within the city though.

>>1073295
>>It doesn't bother me as long as long as you don't infect people

Did you bite anyone?

>I'm interested in your offer
But I'd like to talk this over with my friends.

Also, how recently did you discover this fortress?

Take him to meet the others and especially desden so we know for sure he's not just making this up to sucker us into a trap.

>>1073295
>>1073312
Seconding

>>1073295
>It doesn't bother me as long as long as you don't infect people
>I'm interested in your offer
>Something else: I still need your story verified. And I warn you, while I'm merciful, I don't speak for my people, and some may still view you as an abomination.

>>1073312
>>1073537
Actually, wait. Is Desden the kind of guy who would view a skinwalker as an affront to the Great Will and in need of being destroyed?
We haven't been able to find a new divine focus yet, so our word is still kind of suspect in the eyes of the Faithful.

>>1073728
well, we could first run this by Dolah as a hypothetical situation.

Even if it were, this guy is part of a faction on the island, and blackburn probably thinks we got enough enemies as it is, so we probably shouldn't fuck with the moonferal unless he outright fucks with us.

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“It doesn't bother me as long as you don't infect people,” you tell the rat. “ . . .You haven't bitten anyone, have you?” you ask, slightly alarmed at the possibility of a spreading infection.

“No one today,” he squeaks. “None of your kind, neither. I'm not exactly looking to spread my affliction to others except through . . . well, the natural method if you know what I mean.”

“Gross,” Rowe says, resting her bow against her bedside table once more. You let your foot up off the small rat and back up. The rat creature rises back onto his four legs.

“One thing,” you addend. “While I have no issue with you I cannot speak for the rest of my kind. I may be merciful but they still may view you as an abomination.”

“Figured,” the rat informs you. “Sorta the reason I was wading through your shit instead of skittering past your guards.”

Suddenly, the rodent before you starts to expand, sections of its body suddenly jutting out accompanied by sickening squelches of what you would assume is the very painful process of bones breaking and reforming. You back up further as Pascala gives a slightly intimidated whine. Soon the rat takes up much more space than before. Still not that much. He's about the height of a dwarf and certainly not as stocky.

The ratman before you wears leather armor, including a padded face covering. And he has both a sword and crossbow at his hips as well as a smattering of pouches that appear to be overstuffed with knick knacks.

“Vrimkis,” he says to you in Orcish, giving a little bow. “At your service.”

“Huh,” Rowe remarks in the same language, looking him up and down. “Is that your hybrid form?”

“What? No this is me.”

She squints. “Wait, you're a ratperson?”

The humanoid rolls his eyes. “Well . . . I guess you could call me that as long as I get to call you plant person.”

“But we don't come from plants,” you point out to the bipedal rodent.

He blinks once, wiggling his snout and whiskers as he processes what you just said. “Oh yeah. You aren't orcs so that one doesn't . . . well, uhh, you look like you, uh, come from dryads, so there! How does it feel being a dryadperson?”

Rowe shrugs. “I get by.”

“Well the proper name for my kind is Skaven, human,” he explains.

“Do you have a hybrid form?” Rowe queries, curious.

“Yes,” he answers.

“What . . . does it look like?” she continues pestering him.

“I'm sure to you it would merely look like a shaggier version of me with much worse posture. But I assure you the rest of my people see something that terrifies them to their core. Now, with introductions over – ”

“We haven't even told you our names,” Rowe interrupts, killing the momentum Vrimkis was attempting to gather. “I'm Rowe and this is Alan.” She points to you as she says your name.

“Good to meet you, Rowe and Alan,” he says amicably. “Now. What do you say to my offer?”

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“I say I'm interested,” you answer. “But I can only speak for myself.”

(You can speak for me.) Rowe thinks to you.

“Rowe is interested as well,” you tell Vrimkis. “How recently did you discover this fortress?” you probe for more information.

“Oh!” Vrimkis remarks with a genuine-seeming note of excitement. “I've known about Khagh Moldir since I was a child. The fortress's location has been known to my family since my great, great, great, great, great, great, great grandfather was enslaved by the dwarves to help build it.”

“Wow,” Rowe remarks. “That's a long time.”

“I know,” he says, nodding enthusiastically. “Almost a hundred years.”

“Well,” you say. “I'll need to talk this over with my friends. And I'll need to verify your story.”

The ratman cocks his head. “Friends? You just said your friend was interested. Are you thinking of bringing in more people?”

“Maybe,” you answer.

>Take him to Desden now
>Take him to Desden tomorrow
>Don't take him to Desden
>Something else? (write-in)

>>1074322
>>Something else? (write-in)
take him to dolah first and see what she has to say. Then take him to desden.

>>1074322
>Something else? (write-in)
Find Dolah and ask her about Desden's position on skin walkers. If she can't be found, simply find Desden and him ourselves on how the Great Will views skinwalkers; if asked why, it's because we met a werelion, and he's more convenient than Dolah. No reason to tell him about the Skaven yet.

>>1074611
he can tell that we're lying, though. If we do talk to him, we will have to speak the truth. That we did meet a skinwalker who seemed to be in control of his mental faculties and gave us an offer that could potentially benefit the Republic's position in Seaside.

>>1074322
>Take him to Desden tomorrow

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“I need to show you to a friend or two of mine,” you explain.

The Skaven's eyes go wide. “I'm being discrete for a reason, Alan. I can't exactly walk out without attracting attention.”

(Go grab whoever you think needs to see him and bring them here.) Rowe thinks to you. (I'll entertain our guest until you come back.)

You turn to her and give her a look. The half-elf gives you one right back.

(I've got him outnumbered three to one. And I'm relatively sure Pascala can take him by herself. If he turns out to be on the up and up we should respect his privacy, slightly.)

You shrug, looking back to Vrimkis. “I'll be back soon Vrimkis. Sit tight. I'll see if I can snag some cheese on the way back.”

And with that you exit the room, hearing your girlfriend say “I'm sorry if that was a deeply offensive and stereotypical comment” as you close the door.

. . .

Pushing open the doors to the Sword and Shield tavern, you're slightly surprised to see Dolah still up and about, wearing that same blue pastel dress. She sits across from Gabby and Kyra at your usual spot. Gabby seems to be speaking to her raucously, surrounded by half a dozen empty beer steins, and Kyra – despite her usually quiet, reserved nature – listens in such an animated nature and is so engaged you're quite stunned that this is something you're genuinely viewing. Dolah, on the other hand, looks to be between some level of embarrassed and inquisitive as Gabby loudly talks at her.

You stride forward, your acute sense of hearing picking up a key phrase or two before you arrive at the table.

“What you need to do is fuck his goddamn brains out,” Gabby insists. “Before Dart gets her claws in him or something.”

Dolah sighs. “I'm not exactly sure –”

“Dart will do something,” the thief concurs with the latter part of the blonde's sentiments, nodding at that incidental wisdom of hers. “Ruin things. Cause chaos.”

As Dolah goes to speak again, she notices you approaching out of the corner of her eye. “Hello Alan!” she greets you loudly so as to alert the others to your encroaching presence. They turn to gaze at you for a moment before returning to Dolah.

You come to stand before the table as Gabby prods the paladin in the arm with her half-full mug. “What were you saying?”

Dolah rolls her eyes. “Nothing.”

The drunk monk leans backwards. “Come on, really? Why do you give a shit about Alan?”

“ . . . Hey?” you say, slightly offended by Gabby's choice of words.

“You know what I mean,” she says, reaching out and playfully – in her mind – smacking you on the ass. It stings a bit, in all honestly. “I mean, Alan's as dirty as me or Kyra at this point. You fucking know that.”

“My reluctance doesn't revolve around the dirtiness of the situation,” the half-orc emphasizes. “It's about shifting the topic of conversation. I'm sure Alan's here for a reason. Let's move on and not bore him with . . . girl-talk,” she says the last word of that sentence awkwardly.

Gabby snorts and even Kyra gives a silent chuckle.

"Yes, Alan?" Dolah asks sincerely.

>Explain the skinwalker situation and ask about Desden's opinion
>Wait, no, you can do “girl-talk”
>Something else? (write-in)

>>1075848
>>Explain the skinwalker situation and ask about Desden's opinion

Though, when the serious business has been talked about, then inquire about the girl talk.

>>1075848
>Explain the skinwalker situation and ask about Desden's opinion
>"So to start off my business proposal let me set a clear and easily imagined beginning for my reasonable request. So a ugly ass rat crawled out of my toilet and I tried to kill it but it came back to life and so I engaged in diplomacy by stepping on it. Then it turned into a bigger rat with a crossbow and invited me to plunder an ancient dwarven site. And y'know he was really compelling."

>>1075848
>Explain the skinwalker situation and ask about Desden's opinion

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“So,” you begin, taking a seat beside Dolah as you start explaining the situation to the group, making sure to keep your voice down to limit the number of people who are aware of Vrimkis's presence in the city for the time being. “To begin my business proposal, let me paint a clear and easily imagined scenario for my reasonable request. An ugly ass rat crawls out of my toilet and my dog tries to kill it, but it comes back to life and, after promptly subduing the rodent by stepping on it, I engage it in diplomacy. Then, it turns into a much bigger rat that stands on two legs and is armed with a crossbow. It invites me to plunder an ancient dwarven site and, y'know,” you overact an accepting shrug, “he turns out to make a very compelling argument.”

All three of them just stare at you, their expressions caught between confusion and concern. Eventually Gabby blinks and drains her stein before lifting it high in the air. “Another round!” she calls.

. . .

Those who were still unaware of what a skinwalker is and its dangerous capabilities are informed in full detail of what you know they can do. All three of your allies listen in rapt attention as you go through the relevant history from the moment you went lion hunting on your birthday to the tail end of your encounter with the Moonferal Skaven no more than twenty minutes previous.

“So . . .” Dolah says, “you're thinking of accompanying this . . . afflicted Skaven to the mountain ranges?”

You nod your head. “If it's legitimate, then yeah. I think it could be helpful for us and helpful for Seaside. The only issue is I want to confirm he's telling me the truth. If this is some Skinwalker ambush I'm being set up for I want to know about it.”

Dolah nods. “So you want Desden, then?”

“Yeah. But I'm not sure what he'll think about the affliction. What if he views skinwalkers as an affront to the Great Will and think Vrimkis needs to be destroyed?”

“He will,” Gabby declares succinctly.

Dolah furrows her brow. “There is nothing in the official texts of the Church that make much mention of anything remotely similar to these skinwalkers. A few passages of men turned to beasts that . . . well, with enough mental efforts and the liberal use of sweeping assumptions one could declare were in reference to Skinwalkers.”

“Bullshit though,” Kyra comments.

The paladin gestures to her. “Exactly. I mean, clearly, any follower of the Great Will can see this affliction is a health risk and health risks are . . . well, they're bad. And if the affliction is truly a curse – evil in origin. Well, then this Vrimkis character will certainly register under the scrutinizing gaze of the faithful.”

“So what do you think?” you probe for an answer.

“I think,” Dolah says. “You should begin by deciding on who you wish to bring along with you on this expedition if the skaven turns out not to be lying.”

>The usual suspects [Kyra, Gabby, Dolah, Eve, Quissonce, Rowe]
>The WHOLE crew [The usual suspects + Ed, Gale, Desden, Du'kov]
>Gilda
>A specific combination of the above names (Write-in)
>Somebody else? (Who?)

>>1078133
>The WHOLE crew [The usual suspects + Ed, Gale, Desden, Du'kov]
maybe talk with blackburn about the operation to see who is needed in Seaside.

>>1078130
>>A specific combination of the above names (Write-in)
Rowe, Gabby, Kyra, Dolah, Quissonce, Du'kov, Gilda, Eve
I think we can trust Du'kov to keep his traditional hatred of skinwalkers in check, and Gilda's knowledge as a researcher should be invaluable.

>>1078195
I'd suggest bringing Ed, too, so he can pull Quissonce off of us if things get hairy.

>>1078133
>The WHOLE crew [The usual suspects + Ed, Gale, Desden, Du'kov]

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“I'm planning on bringing the whole crew,” you inform the half-orc. “Gale, Desden, my squire, Ed.”

“Wow,” Gabby remarks. “Pretty grand affair then?”

You shrug. “I think it will be smart to walk in there as prepared as possible. If we're talking about a fortress with traps and obstacles left behind . . . I'd rather risk overkill than getting blindsided.”

“Less loot per person though,” Kyra notes.

“I prefer that to someone dying,” you reply. “Especially since I still can't access my healing powers.”

Dolah nods. “Like I said earlier, Alan. If you require it, I can instruct you in manifesting the Great Will without needing a holy symbol. For now though I'll go get Desden and brief him on what we're planning on doing.” She stands up, preparing to leave.

“No more girl-talk?” you ask with a smirk. She shakes her head.

“Unfortunately, no. Desden and I will need to converse at length with this Vrimkis character. To ensure the veracity of his claims as well as to discover some of the finer details of this journey he may have neglected to mention.”

“When are we hitting the trail, you think?” Gabby questions as you all give Dolah a wave goodbye.

“Well, since we're coordinating a lot of people – some of which might have lingering business in Seaside before we head out – and considering the fact that we'll have to prepare for the trip . . . uh, a week? Maybe two?” you guess.

“Have to worry about dragon retaliation,” Kyra brings up. “Might happen soon.”

“Dragon retaliation?” Gabby echoes questioningly.

“Remember?” Kyra says. “Irontide intercepted gold meant for Burn's hoard.” It seems Kyra must have relayed your exploits to a few of your friends before you showed up.

Gabby snorts. “Fuckin' greedy dwarf cunt. His whole crew is a bunch of shitheads. I swear if that dragon wants fucking blood I'll hand him and his cronies over in a heartbeat.”

Kyra puts on a half-smile. “Will upset Dolah.”

“Yeah well it's her fault for being a fucking traitor.”

The thief squints. “You're one to talk. Kroll?”

Gabby shrugs, draining her mug further. “Eh. Yeah I did it. No use denying it."

>Speaking of Kroll. He suckerpunched me, Gabby.
>Kyra, Blackburn said you knew Irontide was aware of our mission. Why didn't you say anything?
>So Dolah and Ashe are a thing now?
>Go to bed. You've got important shit to do in the morning.
>Something else? (write-in)

>>1079200
>So Dolah and Ashe are a thing now?
>Go to bed. You've got important shit to do in the morning.
privately:
>Kyra, Blackburn said you knew Irontide was aware of our mission. Why didn't you say anything?

>>1079200
>Something else? (write-in)
"Eh, personally, I'd like Irontide and Kroll to be here long enough to wear Burn down before getting nommed; then we can finish off Burn and we won't have to share his hoard with either of them. When an enemy is raring to go at another enemy, I'm not one to get in their way."

>>1079229
Seconding

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“Personally I'd prefer for Irontide and Kroll to wear Burn down, maybe soften him up enough for us to slay ourselves. I'm fine with letting our enemies kill each other for us. We'd get to keep the hoard that way, too.”

“Like the way you think!”/“Like the way you think.”

Kyra and Gabby share a look after their unplanned, simultaneous reply. You chuckle. “Great minds think alike,” you point out.

“Fools rarely differ,” the thief finishes the saying.

“Also true. So,” you say, changing the subject, “Dolah and Ashe are a thing now?” you ask, having heard enough snippets from various sources now to deduce as much.

“Seems like it,” Gabby confirms your educated guess. That explains why you saw neither hide nor hair of Ashe with the rest of his group when they were raiding the Imperial supply base. The lot of them probably decided to leave their 'moral compass' back defending Seaside so they could cause mass carnage without interference. “Whatever is going on between them ain't gonna last long, though, if Dolah insists on dragging it out while somebody malicious decides to fuck it up. That or he just gets bored of her refusing to put out. You sure she isn't celibate, Al?”

You shrug. “I'm not sure. Maybe she wants to wait until she's married.”

Gabby chortles, gazing up to the ceiling. “Fuck me . . . imagining her in a wedding dress is . . .” she trails off.

“You the groom in your fantasy?” the curly-haired woman jabs.

The monk utters a short, sharp guffaw in response. “Nah, pretty sure if I fuck any more people I work with things will get weird. Well, weirder. We're planning to raid a ruin with a walking, talking rat.” She turns back to you, focusing on your original inquiry. “But yeah. Dolah's fallen for the bald-headed, bushy-bearded bastard so . . . y'know, we have to play nice with them and pretend we don't want to disembowel half of 'em. Really inconsiderate move of hers.”

Kyra rolls her eyes. “Again. You're one to talk.”

“Hey!” the blonde fiercely snaps. “Difference between falling for someone and falling on top of them. Repeatedly.”

Gabby finishes another stein's worth of alcocohol. “Guess I should just be glad she didn't end up with Desden.” She shivers in creeped out disgust. “Imagine how soulless a relationship that would be.”

“I elect not to,” you insist.

Small talk continues as you pass time in the bar, looking for an opportunity to manage a private moment with Kyra to talk to her about what you learned from Blackburn. But there doesn't seem to be one occurring naturally and you believe it too awkward to finagle a proper way to arrange a secluded talk. Not without making it extremely obvious to Gabby you want her to skedaddle and give Kyra and yourself space, which could draw more alarm and curiosity to the situation than you're sure you're ready to handle.

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So you decide to shelve the question and your concern for now, planning to tackle it soon at a later date. For now, you'll get some sleep. You give your goodbyes to both your teammates and retreat from the tavern back towards your sleeping quarters.

On the way there, you pass the paladin and the inquisitor walking side by side in the streets. Desden quickly informs you that your skaven informant was candid and honest. He also says they've spoken with Vrimkis at length about all his foreknowledge of Khagh Moldir and its layout. With the preliminary requirements for the expedition dealt with, Vrimkis made his leave of your domicile the same way he entered it. Through the toilet. For now Dolah will focus on contacting the rest of the team and organizing the supplies required to make the journey. Rowe guesses the travel time will be roughly a week there and then a week back, with who knows how long you'll need to spend actually delving.

You bid goodbye to your proactive and productive allies, returning to your room to fall into a meditative trance beside your recuperating, sleeping girlfriend.

The next day you decide to

>Learn how to use the shotgun
>Learn from Dolah in the arts of paladin-hood style healing
>Coach Du'kov
>Investigate potential vampires
>Something else? (write-in)

>>1080780
>Coach Du'kov

>>1080780
>Learn how to use the shotgun
>Coach Du'kov
>Something else:Find another Divine Focus and inform Blackburn that we plan to be gone for a while and to plan accordingly.
I suppose the Circle could contact us and teleport us back to Seaside if something really does come up.

And we really need a new divine focus; without one we can't use half of our spells.

And we could combine coaching Du'kov with learning how to use the shotgun; knowing how your enemy's weapons work is half the battle.

>>1080816
second.

If we can't get a divine focus, then we go to dolah to learn stuff

File: Gaea's Warden.jpg (261 KB, 1024x683)

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After waking up the next morning, you escort your lover down the stairs of the Circle so she may take a walk around Seaside. You link arms and let her rely upon you whenever she feels too exhausted to continue walking. Seems her stamina was affected the hardest by hosting a goddess within her flesh two weeks prior. For the short bursts of activity she can manage, she does seem to move close to her usual rapid pace while traversing the overgrown, rough terrain of the forests.

Together, you make your way towards the Fighter's Guild across town. Rowe insists, despite any trepidation from yourself, that she wishes to see her friends down at the Center for Martial Mastery. Perhaps even get in some practice or a light workout if she's feeling up to it.

As you make your way down the busy morning streets, you make conversation with the fatigued half-elf.

“I'm still having an issue with accessing my clerical abilities,” you confide in her.

(Calloway's necklace isn't working?) she thinks.

You shake your head. “Nah. I'm uh . . . starting to get nervous.”

(That you've been cut off from The Great Will?)

“Yeah,” you admit. “I'm not sure He's too pleased with me.”

You walk in silence for a bit longer until Rowe taps you on the shoulder, signifying she needs to take a quick break. You both stop in front of a nondescript building – most likely a series of apartments or perhaps a storage unit.

(Well . . . I'm not saying it's true. But if you have lost favor with Him, what are you planning to do?)

You shrug. “Earn forgiveness? Somehow,” you offer as a halfhearted suggestion, unsure of what else to do.

Rowe clucks her tongue, nodding along to your statement. (You could do that . . .)

“Or what?” you ask, coaxing out the end of that thought

(Or . . . maybe it's time to move on.)

“Move on?” you echo, bringing voice to her mental suggestion. “Like to a new god?”

(A new goddess.)

You recoil slightly. “You . . . you want me to convert? To Gaea's Warden?”

(I think She'd be a better fit for you.) she confesses.

“I thought you weren't . . . the religious type, Rowe,” you speak, slightly stunned still.

(I mean . . . I'm not. But . . . well, who's been in our court, on our side since we met Her and who has tried to kill you, Alan? If you're going to worship a higher power anyway . . . choose one who isn't inherently rooting against you.)

“Can she even grant me the same powers?” you question.

(Yes she can. All you have to do is believe in Her, have a proper holy symbol and pledge yourself to defending the environment and maintaining the balance of nature as best you're able and you should be good.)

. . . Huh.

(And honestly Alan . . . I know you. I think she'll be a much better fit for you.)

>My faith isn't some paltry thing to be discarded at the merest sign of trouble
>I think you might be right
>Let me talk to Her. Is she there?
>Something else? (write-in)

>>1083184
>>Something else? (write-in)
I think we should at least try Dolah's method before switching.

>Let me talk to Her. Is she there?
That said I don't mind shooting the shit and learning more about Gaea

>>1083487
>I think we should at least try Dolah's method before switching.
supporting this

>>1083184
>Let me talk to Her. Is she there?

>>1083184
>My faith isn't some paltry thing to be discarded at the merest sign of trouble
Gods and their tests.

>>1083184
>>My faith isn't some paltry thing to be discarded at the merest sign of trouble
While I would be okay with switching (powergaming yeah), it would be totally out of character for Alan.

>>1083805
>>1083487
Guys, becoming a Paladin is Dolah's method, and while it would work, it also means becoming far more restricted in what we can do.
Did you forget that part of her explanation?

>>1084699
fair enough.

>My faith isn't some paltry thing to be discarded at the merest sign of trouble

Admittedly, just because we get betrayed by those superior to us does not necessarily mean that the tenets of our faith are wrong, which is something for alan to still live by.

>>1084713
>>1084560
>>1084580
If the Great Will himself, via refusing our attempts for atonement and reconnecting with Him, rejects us, then I have absolutely no problem with moving on to another god/goddess.

While Gaea's Warden gives us lots of leeway, the whole "balance of nature" thing is not my cup of tea.

File: Fighter's Guild.jpg (1.32 MB, 1600x1200)

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You cough in your hand, slightly put off. “Rowe, my faith isn't some . . . paltry thing to be discarded at the merest sign of trouble.”

She blinks a few times, rapidly. (What? His top angel tried to kill you! Successfully alienated half of the faithful against you. Not to mention I died as a byproduct of the hit order taken out against you. That's a lot more than a sign of trouble.)

“My faith helped bring you back,” you point out.

(Not without Gabby resuscitating me. And she's a bit more antithetical to organized religion than I am. Alan, if there's a time to just drop it all and walk away it's now!)

You shake your head. “I can't abandon Him while I'm still unsure he's abandoned me.”

(He left you high and dry in His own church while His top general tried to skewer you. I'm not an expert on symbolism here, but if that's not abandonment, what is?)

“The tenets of my belief are righteous and to be cherished!” you reply with a sense of finality, feeling a hard lump form in your throat. “If The Great Will has deemed I have violated them too deeply and rejects any of my attempts for atonement, maybe I'll consider another viable path. But for now, the Alan I currently am may not be perfect or infallibly just, but he is a hell of a lot better than the Red Rider and I'm not exactly sure that isn't who will be coming home to roost if I just give up!”

Her face droops completely. Silence descends between you two after your outburst.

(I'm sorry I shouldn't have pushed – )

“I'm not mad,” you interrupt. “I just . . . don't want to be like Kroll or Irontide or Dart. It's too easy.”

(I think I get it.) Rowe thinks as she slips her hand into yours and gives you a squeeze. (I'm good to continue on.)

You nod and take a second to link arms with your lover once more as you head towards the Fighter's Guild.

. . .

You enter into the building, finding it packed to the brim with different recruits of various skill levels grunting and swearing as they practice martial maneuvers. You spy Du'kov off to the side of the large chamber, laden down with chainmail as another member of the guild works on correcting the grip he has on his parrying dagger.

Gale spots you from his wooden table – which is different from the old one and seems to be of much higher quality. So either some clumsy oaf broke the last one in an accidental mishap or the guild master decided it was time for an upgrade.

He excuses himself from a few surrounding sycophants speaking with him, before making his way towards the two of you, greeting you both warmly.

“I can introduce you to The Peacemaker if you wish,” the barbarian tells you as the two of you finish shaking hands, reminding you of the conversation you had the night before.

>Learn how to shoot from the Peacemaker
>Take over instructing Du'kov on how to fight holding two weapons
>Bring Du'kov with you to learn how to shoot as well
>Something else? (write-in)

>>1085459
>Bring Du'kov with you to learn how to shoot as well
Tell Du'kov that even if he doesn't pick up a gun himself, he should still learn what a gunner does and how they fight so that he can more effectively fight them.
"Knowing is half the battle," is a lesson that should be drummed into him.

>>1085459
>>Learn how to shoot from the Peacemaker
>Bring Du'kov with you to learn how to shoot as well

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“That sounds like a good idea,” you confirm, before turning To Rowe. “Are you alright if I go ahead and spend a good few hours shooting?”

She nods. (Yeah. Maybe I'll join you at some point to practice my archery.) You let go and watch Rowe stride away at a reasonable pace as you follow after Gale. You take a detour and grab Du'kov by the shoulder, asking him to come with you. You apologize to his main gauche tutor for interrupting their lesson plan and schedule, but the man insists the disruption is not an issue. Du'kov accompanies you without question. You explain your intentions to him as he walks beside you.

“I know you don't wish to you use firearms since they failed you, Du'kov,” you begin, “but Kardas – my enemies – your enemies – are well known for their use of musketeer regiments. It is not unlikely that if you follow me into battle against them you will be encountering plenty of hostile combatants who use guns. So it's important for you to learn how a proficient marksman, gunner or musketeer effectively utilizes their weapons to deadly effect, so you know how best to counter them.”

Du'kov nods along vigorously to every word that pours from your mouth.

“If you know what the enemy can do and you know what you can do you . . . uh, well, you'll probably win.” You clap him on the back as guild master Gale leads you out of the main room and through a series of hallways until you are out in the archery range once more.

The barbarian beckons you and Du'kov forward with a wave of one finger as he leads you to a sizable oak tree that stands proudly in the open-air, soaking up the sunshine as a soft wind tickles the surrounding grasses in this small patch of nature.

Gale clears his throat, as if trying to grab someone's attention. It takes you a moment to realize, but when you look down you spy the halfling you assume must be The Peacemaker. He lies in the grass, head propped up against the hardened, gnarly bark of the ancient oak. A blue, wide brimmed hat lies over his face and judging from the soft rise and fall of his chest, you assume he is currently dozing away the early morning. Beside him lies a rifle, propped up against the same tree.

Eventually, Gale resorts to gently nudging the rifleman in the side with his boot. There is a small snort of alarm, but even then the halfling's arms do not move from their initial position – clasped behind his head to cushion his skull like a makeshift pillow.

“Peacemaker,” Gale quietly call him by his title.

“Gale,” the man replies in a soft, drawn-out sing-song tone. “I've told you before. No need for nicknames. Just call me Zenlan.” He reaches up and lifts his hat enough to look up at your group with one curious, vibrant green eye. No longer hidden nor held in place by the hat, a few golden locks fall down across his face. “Oh,” he remarks, noticing yourself and your squire. “It seems you've brought company.”

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Gale gestures towards both of you with one gauntleted hand. “Alan Rodain and his squire, Du'kov of the Mountain Rider tribe.”

“The Alan Rodain?” Zenlan asks as he languidly pushes himself up off the ground into a standing position.

“The one and the same,” the barbarian confirms. “And he wishes to see you personally. For firearms training.”

The halfling stretches as high as he can with his arms, standing on the tips of his toes as he works out the kinks in his body after his nap. “Well I'll be,” he remarks coolly. “What an honor that is.” He sticks a hand out for you to shake. “Zenlan.”

You grab it and return the salutations. “Good to meet you Zenlan. I was wondering if you would be willing to give pointers to Du'kov here as well." You nod to your squire. "Assuming you even have time to teach me a few things.”

“Sure,” he says, causally waving away any distaste for the idea with his hand. “Although I must warn you, I'm not a strict teacher. And I like to take breaks. For example, it's time for my post-nap meat pie. I'll just go and – ”

Du'kov raises a hand. “I will get your food for you, teacher. The other of your kind who sells them in front of 'The Sword and Shield' tavern will be sufficient?”

“Uhhhh,” Zenlan seems a bit wide-eyed and surprised by the volunteering. “Yeah, Bartom makes the best ones. You don't have to –”

Du'kov shakes his head. “It is the least of repayments for your efforts.”

You chuckle. “You should let him do it,” you advise.

“Alright,” Zenlan shrugs. “If you want to. Let me just get the money.” He goes to stick a hand in his pocket, but your raise your own to halt him.

“I've got it,” you insist. You fish out about a dozen gold coins and hand them to Du'kov. Until now you've been buying his meals or getting him a plate of food from the Circle when you think he'll be peckish. But he's spent enough time around money now to get the jist of it. “Keep track of your coins. That should last you for a long while. And get yourself and I a meat pie too. It's about time you developed a taste for Bartom's cooking.”

“Yes, Alan,” Du'kov confirms as he puts most of the money away in the pocket of his leggings. Your squire rushes off to purchase your food.

“Kid's diligent,” Zenlan comments with an appreciative nod. Gale also takes his leave, returning to the main room of the Fighter's Guild to see to other things. “I should warn you,” the halfing speaks, looking up to you. “Guns are expensive to maintain. Especially the type you've got. Ammunition will run you about fifteen gold a cartridge. So, uh,” he chuckles, good-naturedly. “Try to learn quickly.”

You shrug. “Good thing that's my specialty.”

>Roll me 1d100 + 46, best of 3

Rolled 95 + 46 (1d100 + 46)

>>1089478

Rolled 66 + 46 (1d100 + 46)

>>1089478

Rolled 95 + 46 (1d100 + 46)

>>1089478

File: Du'Kov.jpg (55 KB, 564x789)

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BANG

You lower your weapon and squint forward at the red and white target no more than thirty or so feet in front of you. You frown.

“Nice!” Zenlan compliments your shooting from behind, giving you a supportive clap.

You turn to look at him. “Really?” you ask earnestly. “The whole target is littered with pellets. How can you tell?”

He cocks an eyebrow. “You can't?”

“I feel like my aim is right, but . . .”

Zenlan shrugs. “It's a shotgun. You're firing pellets. I know it's not as satisfying as putting a single bullet down range smack dab in the center, like with a bow and arrow. Butt your stance is good. Your aim is on target. You don't under or over compensate for the recoil. Your spread is tight and focused. Alan, you look like a regular deadeye to me. This your first time shooting?”

“First time shooting a gun,” you confirm.

He nods. “They do not exaggerate about you.” He picks up the remnants of his meat pie and forks the last few crumbs of it into his mouth.

“Well,” you say as you pop the gun open and let the spent metal canister fall to the ground, a small wisp of smoke still trailing off of it. “Compliments ultimately must go to my muse. Without you I am nothing.”

He smiles a genuine, wide smile. “What a thoughtful and delightful thing to say. Thank you, Alan. I appreciate it.” You load another canister of pellets into the gun. You hand the weapon over to your squire and give him a chance at the shooting range.

As Du'kov raises the weapon, you help correct his stance and positioning so he will take a much better shot, giving him a few pointers based upon what you've learned to do by watching Zenlan at the range. You're almost surprised at how seamless the transition was from absolute novice to easy familiarity with the gun like you'd been toting one all your life was. You just studied the halfling as he had easily sauntered up to the line, hefted his much smaller rifle up to his shoulder and blasted away at a target. Something about the earnestness of his movements had seemed so easy to incorporate and adapt that your own attempts at utilizing your gun were just simply improved. It was a natural progression and an extremely rapid one at that.

This session of watching, digesting and then applying what you thought you had assimilated began not too long ago. Du'kov returned with the meat pies only fifteen minutes after he had left. And then you had spent a few minutes chowing down. Perhaps half an hour has passed since Zenlan had actually started the lesson proper and even then he spent a lot of time relaxing or keeping you from wasting a good shot by critiquing your posture or telling you to adjust when appropriate.

You've only fired the gun yourself maybe . . . five times?

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BANG

As the shotgun retorts in your squire's hands, you check the remaining pellets that you dumped into a pack your halfling guru lent you for the day. Counting them quickly, you see you have twenty rounds left. So between you and Du'kov, you've only wasted a third of what you scored off the Roscoli on mere practice.

He returns and hands you the long gun, a grimace on his face. “I still don't like it,” he informs you.

“Guns aren't for everybody,” The Peacemaker chimes in, seemingly not offended by that opinion. “Just do whatever's your speed.”

“Well,” you say, slinging the weapon back over your shoulder, “this whole event has gone much quicker and smoother than I thought it would. Thank you again, Zenlan. But considering the immense progress I've made in such a short time, I think it's best if I save most of my ammo for in the field, since it's so expensive.”

Zenlan gives you a thumbs up. “No problem. I think that's the right choice to make, Alan. Have a good day. I didn't get to finish my nap from earlier and I think it's –”

“HUMANS SEND OUT YOUR LEADER! NOW! AND BRING MY OFFSPRING OUT WITH YOU!”

Zenlan frowns at the interruption and Du'kov looks up as the Draconic roar rings loudly throughout the town.

A lump forms in your stomach as you recognize the sound of that extremely deep, reptilian voice.

BONG!

The bell of Seaside's clock tower rings out, a signal that the town is under attack.

BONG!

. . . “Oh shit,” you mutter. You start to hear the faint, distant sounds of commotion. A few screams and shouts carried on the wind to your ears.

BONG!

“STOP RINGING THAT BELL OR I WILL MAKE SURE YOU STOP RINGING THAT BELL!”

He sounds pissed.

>Go to Burn
>Find Blackburn
>Find Eve
>Find Irontide
>Hide
>Leave
>Something else? (write-in)

>>1091016
>Find Eve
Well shit.
Before she does something stupid.

>>1091177
second

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Shit “Zenlan I need to go,” you inform your momentary tutor.

He nods. “You probably do. Sounds pretty serious.”

You look to your squire as you rapidly dump the pellets from the halfling's bag into your efficient quiver. “Du'kov, come with me.” He nods and rushes after you as you bolt back into the Fighter's guild building. All around you as you move through the hallway people seem to be scrambling. Whether in reaction to the loud dragon roar or simply the ringing of the bell – it's a song and dance they're well acquainted with.

BONG!

One more reverberation reaches you as you burst into the central chamber. You lock eyes with Gale who is already almost out the door. He holds it open for other members of the guild to leave through, ushering them out as they flee in a near-panic to either prepare for the worst or to find the best way to get to safety. Rowe stands beside him. She looks over to you, eyes wide and fearful.

(Not good.)

“YOU WERE WARNED!” Burn roars.

You follow Gale and Rowe, bursting out into the streets of Seaside just in time to be buffeted by a great gust of wind that knocks your buffering cap off your head and whips at your cloak so fiercely it snaps back with a violent cracking noise.

Staring up into the sky, the huge flying reptilian form seems to blot out the sun, casting a huge shadow across a large swath of the town. Its massive wingspan stretched out in their entirety as they flap to keep the massive creature in the air.

This is the largest living thing you have ever witnessed and it is goddamn terrifying. Your control over your Arcane Sight falters for a split second and the swirling red, pulsating vortex of energy that ripples off the dragon's form and in the wide wake he leaves causes a burning sensation to form in the back of your corneas that you fear might make you go blind.

You shake your head, look away and then come back, focusing intensely on seeing only the natural world instead of the colors of magic.

Burn hovers before the clocktower which holds Seaside's warning bell. It is the second tallest building in the city.

Birds and debris are scattered by the force of his flapping, sinuous wings. You see the roiling flame build up in Burn's throat, small gouts of flame already slipping out through his closed maw.

BONG!

The building's fate is sealed.

Burn opens his mouth and a jet of flame shoots forth, the waves of heat so intense you can feel the residual warmth of the attack from here.

The clocktower – made of hard-packed stone and brick – starts to melt beneath the intense assault. The bell is most certainly no more than a puddle of liquid, super-heated bronze and all inside must have perished in the blink of an eye. A far more merciful fate than a long, drawn out burning.

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“Oh fuck me,” Gale mutters as he takes in the bright, burning sight of Burn's destruction. Du'kov, to his credit, simply bends down and picks up your cap, handing it back to you.

You simply breathe out, fixing the hat firmly to your head. “We need to find Eve. Quickly.” You look to your lover, the concern obvious to both of you.

(I'll be fine and just slow you down.) she thinks at you. (I'll catch up soon. Now go.)

You look to your squire. You know you'll move much faster without him as well. “Stay with her,” you order. He nods.

With that assurance made, you split up. Gale and yourself begin to move through the streets, passing the panicking throngs of civilians rushing and screaming in the opposite direction of the dragon. More than a few who see you look at you with a mix of relief and expectation.

How are you going to get them out of this one? they must be thinking.

Burn flies up higher into the sky as the clock tower crumbles and collapses.

“IF MY OFFSPRING AND YOUR LEADER ARE NOT BEFORE ME IN FIVE MINUTES I WILL DESTROY SOMETHING ELSE!”

With that stern warning at the forefront of your mind, you make your way towards the Circle where you suspect Eve may be. Moving at a very rapid pace. Gale is surprisingly able to keep up with you, his barbaric speed roughly equivalent to that of the honed body you've cultivated under Gabby's tutelage. A quick expeditious retreat casted upon both of you has you covering ground at a blindingly fast speed.

As luck would have it, when you near the large, domineering tower of the Circle, you spy the floating form of Eve who seems to have flown out through her window. You raise your arms and fire off a quick flare to nab her attention.

She floats down to where you and Gale come to a stop, breathing heavy at your intense exertion.

She looks nervous. “Guys! He's here!” she shouts to you as she lands.

“We know,” Gale tells her. “Everyone knows.”

“Oh shit what should I do?” She asks in a tone of trepidation, looking between the both of you back and forth. “Go in dragon form? This form? Oh shoot I'm so unprepared for this.”

>Go as you are
>Turn into a dragon
>Something else? (write-in)

>>1093505
have her initially go in her normal form, she can transform into a dragon later if needed.

We should also go, act like the Leader.

>>1093505
>Turn into a dragon
"Eve, you know he's here to kill you, right?"
Goddammit, if Irontide and Dart are trying to sneak away with Burn's money, I'm going to be pissed.
At least we'll have something to tell Azdor he was wrong about again.

>>1093522
And if Blackburn shows up as we're negotiating?
All you'd be doing is making Burn start burning things when we need him to be talking and therefore be a sitting target.

>>1093559
>And if Blackburn shows up as we're negotiating?
>All you'd be doing is making Burn start burning things when we need him to be talking and therefore be a sitting target.
perhaps we should intercept him and let him know what we plan?

>>1093577
We've got less than 4 minutes, we aren't going to be able to intercept him and come up with a plan in that short a span of time.

>>1093594
We should probably have someone try and get Azdor and Ashe to gather their team and hit the dragon.

We tag along with Eve, and we try and protect her and Blackburn from harm. Since this is an emergency, perhaps we could attempt to assimilate some Dragon trait to offbalance his combat abilities?

>>1093606
>perhaps we could attempt to assimilate some Dragon trait to offbalance his combat abilities
Yes, but we need to be careful.
Burn has dealings with the Elemental Planes, so he might have heard about ASSIMILATION from the High Heavens or the Burning Hells.
He may not recognize Alan immediately like the Outsiders, but once we start Assimilating, he'll know, and it will still be a moment as we take in any abilities and learn to use them.

out of curiosity, can dragons shape shift into other species?

>>1093623
Alan wouldnt know

theoretically, we could assimilate a subject to the point where we gain all his or her physical and magical qualities, correct?

>>1093674
You haven't tried yet but if you gained all their physical qualities you'd look exactly like them.

Theoretically, you might be able to do it.

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“Eve, you know he's here to kill you, right?” you ask, still unsure if she's absorbed the gravity of the situation or even the mere truth of it.

“What?” she asks, confused and simultaneously confirming all your fears about her inattentiveness. “Burn's here for the money Irontide stole last night.”

You nod, nearly exasperated. “Yes, that's probably the case. But there's a reason he's asking for you.”

“He asked for me?” she questions, gasping as she says it, giddy.

Now you're completely exasperated. “HE THINKS YOU'RE HIS OFFSPRING!”

“What? Why would he . . . oh yeah, I almost forgot about that. We told that Air elemental guy that I was . . . OOPS, I guess?” Eve chuckles afterwards, scratching the frizzy red locks of her mane, slightly embarrassed at her lapse in memory.

“This dragon has ruthlessly killed all his descendants and has shown not one shred of remorse,” you continue, “so there's a very large chance he will kill you on sight if he thinks you're related to him”

“So should we explain the misunderstanding?” she guesses.

Gale coughs. “He might kill you for pretending to be related to him to leverage his reputation, especially since you used the ruse to orchestrate an assault on his 'allies'.”

“So Burn might kill me if he thinks I'm his offspring and Burn might kill me if he thinks I'm not his offspring,” she lays out before you both. “Wonderful choices here guys. I'm really astounded by the variety.”

Gale turns to you. “Why did the scary evil dragon kill all his children? That's not usually what species do with their children. Especially if they wish to survive and pass on their genes.”

You shrug. “I couldn't hear every word. I think he said boredom.”

Eve scoffs. “Well clearly I'll be fine then since I'm quite literally the opposite of boredom.”

The barbarian ponders, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “So it comes down to what do you think is more likely to set Burn off. Eve's status as a member of his family or the knowledge that Eve lied about being a member of his family.”

“Eh, something else to consider,” Eve chimes in. “Do we really want to lie to Burn?” She gives you both a smirking look. “Lying to a dragon's face?”

“FOUR MINUTES!”

Best make a decision quickly.

>Lie to Burn, have Eve pretend to be his offspring in dragon form
>Come clean to Burn, have Eve approach in her 'natural' state
>Something else? (write-in)

>>1094767
>Come clean to Burn, have Eve approach in her 'natural' state
Fuck it, I want Eve to get a good slap to the face by reality.

>>1094767
>>Come clean to Burn, have Eve approach in her 'natural' state
This at least has a tiny chance to no end horribly.

>>1094767
>>Something else? (write-in)
in addition to coming clean to burn, what countermeasures can we come up with to deal with Burn?

We can expect the dragon to either kill us on the spot when we arrive or snatch us up and take us away for further eatings.

If it's the latter, we should have our fighters keep it busy while spellcasters bombard him with magic, on top of whatever kind of long range weaponry the city has.

Since we've assimilated giant's strength, perhaps we could punch him around, too.

If there are any spells that could allow for Blackburn and Eve to survive dragon fire and/or teleport out at the nearest hint of trouble, we should cast that.

>>1094767
>Come clean to Burn, have Eve approach in her 'natural' state

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“We should come clean to Burn,” you suggest. “That at least gives this meeting a tiny chance not to go horribly wrong. So go as you are, in your true form.”

The gnome nods. “If that's what you think is best, Alan.”

Gale points at her. “And hey, maybe he'll think you're dragon-looking enough to feel a sense of kinship or something,” he offers reassuringly.

Eve shrugs. “Possibly. Alright, well I think time is running short, boys.” She gestures towards you and casts a fly spell on you. “Let's go.”

You cock an eyebrow. “What makes you think I'm going up to the fire breathing monster?”

“You're going to let me talk to Burn unsupervised?” she flutters her eyelashes.

You chew your lip. “Good point. Let's go.”

“Good luck!” Gale calls after you both as the two of you fly high up into the sky where Burn hovers with each tremendous flap of his mighty wings. “I'll gather the others!”

You turn round mid-air to give him a half-hearted salute, before focusing on your goal of rising to meet with the irate dragon.

“THREE MINUTES!” he roars, blowing fire through his nostrils and open mouth straight up into the sky, the tremendously long and hot jet of flame causing you both to recoil and flinch momentarily, faltering for just a moment before redoubling the efforts of your flight.

Once you crest over the height of the tallest building, Burn's lazy, examining eyes gradually move to your approaching forms. He cranes his head to give you his full attention as you ascend to the impromptu domain he has constructed out of your airspace. You watch his nostrils enlarge, sniffing the air as his eyes narrow. You can't help but feel a sense of dread when the weird, uncanny irises are focused on studying you. They are nearly impossible for you to read into for his intentions.

Eve is literally shaking and might possibly be sweating as the two of you finally come to a stop before the mighty sky lizard.

She waves at the colossal creature. “H-h-hello. O mighty, powerful – ”

“He hates sycophants,” you whisper to remind her.

“BURN!” she quickly blurts out instead of layering on more false, patronizing titles.

“What are you?” he asks, sounding more mystified than you'd expect . . . well then you'd expect a fucking ancient, terrifying dragon to express towards tiny creatures he probably considers insignificant.

“Uhhh,” she looks to you. You raise your eyebrows in a way that attempts to convey that she should keep going and not stumble on her words. “I am Eve Rexton of the Republic of Ceril,” she explains, looking back to Burn. “And the blood of my fire dragon lineage flows proudly through my veins!”

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The dragon stares at her.

. . .

After a few seconds of Burn being unresponsive Eve coughs and decides to keep speaking.

“And, well, I have tapped into that ancient, magical bloodline to . . .” she trails off as Burn's body begins to rumble. You yourself start to float away ever so slightly, fearful the dragon might be about to do something violent towards you.

She looks up and down at the monster as he raises his long, reptilian neck up into the sky and continues to convulse or something as he emits a strange, scratching noise that causes an uncomfortable shiver to travel up your spine. What the fuck is he . . . oh.

OH!

He's laughing.

You look to Eve and she seems to pick up on it too, starting to frown.

The laughing continues for a quite a while – maybe twenty seconds or so. And as he continues, Eve's frown continues to deepen and her face starts to glow as red as her hair, eyes or scales.

>Is there something you want, Burn?
>ASSIMILATE
>You wanted to speak with our leader?
>We're sorry about the deception. No offspring of yours is here.
>Something else? (write-in)

>>1096756
>ASSIMILATE
Do it now, while he's distracted!
Suck him for all the magical might he's worth!
Though no scales, claws, fangs, or wings. Rowe and Gabby prefer nice, smooth, soft skin.

>>1096756
>>We're sorry about the deception. No offspring of yours is here.
>Is there something else you want, Burn?

>>1097345
leave assimilation for when we know he's definitely going to attack. We might be able to get him to fly off without needing to fight.

>>1097370
Why would we leave assimilation aside? By the time he attacks, we won't have the luxury of assimilating powers from him; we'll be too busy trying to not die.

>>1097396

well, you did suggest that we be careful with it. If we show our trump card and it turns out he won't be burning us after all, he'll probably be better prepared for us in the inevitable final fight.

>>1097434
>he'll probably be better prepared for us in the inevitable final fight.
Our trump card is actually Rowe.
There's nothing he can do to protect against assimilation; the only way to protect a skill or ability from being assimilated is to not use it, meaning he either has to hamstring himself if he wants to keep us from becoming more powerful.

And I suggested we be careful with it while he's watching us. Right now he's distracted and we can absorb some power before he realizes what's happening.

>>1097492
I suppose we could assimilate some qualities, but it's very likely we'll start taking on physical features like scales

>>1096756
also, we should probably calm Eve down before she does something rash.

>>1098325
No, I say let her.
One, it'll be a learning experience for her.
Two, it'll keep Burn distracted so he won't notice Alan assimilating more of his power.

>>1098333
that learning experience may get her killed, though.

Now on page 9

Well this is pretty deadlocked as fuck so I'm doing everything.

Roll me 1d100 + 40, Best of 3.

Let's see how it goes my readers.

Rolled 98 (1d100)

>>1101826
apologies trickboi, I've been busy

Rolled 87 + 40 (1d100 + 40)

>>1101826

Rolled 86 (1d100)

>>1101826

>Fire Aura - Aura of Intense Heat. Never have to worry about getting cold or being cold ever again, even in a frozen tundra. Can turn it up to do fire damage to anything within ten feet of you at will.

>Fire Breath - Can shoot out a jet of flame from your mouth in a fifty foot cone.

>Manipulate Flames - Can take control over any fire source within 60 feet, even fire spells of enemy (or friendly) casters

>Melt Stone - Can only be chosen if Fire Breath is also chosen. You can melt stone into lava

>Incinerate - Can only be chosen if Fire Breath is also chosen. Any creature caught in your fire breath is reduced to ash if it would otherwise kill them or knock them unconscious.

>Smoke Vision - Can see perfectly in smoky conditions, even those brought about by magical means.

>Immediately rise three levels in Sorcerer. Also gain the Draconic Bloodline

>Learn the spells Displacement, Tongues, Dispel Magic, and Haste

>Become immune to Fire/Paralysis/Sleep (Choose one)

>Develop a Frightful Presence of 120 feet that makes weaker willed enemies flee at the sight of you

>Grow scales that add a natural bonus of +12 to your AC

And now the worst possible fate I can inflict upon you all.

You have to choose only two of the above.

>>1102169
>>Fire Aura - Aura of Intense Heat. Never have to worry about getting cold or being cold ever again, even in a frozen tundra. Can turn it up to do fire damage to anything within ten feet of you at will.
>Immediately rise three levels in Sorcerer. Also gain the Draconic Bloodline

>>1102169
>Learn the spells Displacement, Tongues, Dispel Magic, and Haste
>Become immune to Fire
Immunity to flames seems the most useful right now to not die since we're fighting a goddamn dragon.

>>1102169
>>Manipulate Flames - Can take control over any fire source within 60 feet, even fire spells of enemy (or friendly) casters
We'll need this if we're going to survive and protect people from Burn.

>Immediately rise three levels in Sorcerer. Also gain the Draconic Bloodline

>>1102184
Seriously, the Fire Aura? Why?

>>1102184
>>1102242
I wanted a /comfy/ Alan desu, but I'll switch to

>>1102169
>Manipulate Flames - Can take control over any fire source within 60 feet, even fire spells of enemy (or friendly) casters

Alright I'm calling it here.

>Manipulate Flames

and

>Immediately rise three levels in Sorcerer. Also gain the draconic bloodline

>>1102519
Okay, the Manipulate Flames may protect us from dragonfire, but that jump in magical power is going to be detectable.
We're going to have to be really on top of our game with the fire manipulation, since we're not immune to it.

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Alright, time to give in to that urge pounding in the back of your skull, screaming to be utilized every single time you feast your eyes upon some grandiose and powerful entity that ends up displaying itself in your presence. That slimy desire to let some inner part of yourself feast upon others as if they were a choice cut of meat prepared specifically for your enjoyment.

However, you know Burn – as a powerful and ancient dragon – is still probably a crafty individual and may divine what you're doing if you just float there and concentrate on him, nonspeaking.

Sure the bout of laughter has him distracted and will probably keep him distracted for a fair bit longer but the less reason he has to suspect your motives of standing before him and studying him intensely, the better.

As his laughter finally starts to die down and he brings his long, bendy neck back down to gaze at the both of you – his mouth noticeably stitched upward in a cruel smile – you blurt out a pertinent apology in the Draconic language to stymie any possible suspicions in the wake of Eve's sudden, red-faced refusal to speak.

“We're sorry about the deception,” you apologize. YES! JUST A BIT LONGER AND WE'LL HAVE SOMETHING GOOD! You try to keep your teeth from chattering and your arms from shaking as you feel your blood begin to boil in your veins. “No offspring of yours is here.”

“Yes, I believe I have pieced together the mysteries of this puzzle. Air elementals are idiots and you human 'mainlanders' appear quite conniving, for the buzzing, temporary creatures you are. I should honestly congratulate you, convincing that bag of wind that this science experiment was a daughter of mine.”

“S-s-science experiment?” Eve suddenly asks, surprised and shocked by the choice of words. Burn turns towards her, that smile of his growing wider.

“Of course. Some member of my kind, bored out of their skull, possibly even myself, played with a few of your ancestors. I would guess some lengthy blood transfusions and a few magic rituals to keep the sturdier ones from spontaneously combusting on the spot. And, ta da! Instant freak minion.”

“I thought . . .” she trails off, a thousand yard stare in the gnome's eyes.

“Thought what?” he asks, the timbre of his reptilian voice nearing hysterics once more. His head shifts as he watches her, his mind quickly reaching her unstated implication. He lets a quick burst of that scratching, irritable laughter emerge from his throat. “That you were descended from an actual dragon's loins? HOW WOULD THAT EVEN WORK?!” More laughter. Eve closes her mouth and clams up entirely, her posture shrinking as the berating guffawing seems to grow even louder.

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THAT'S RIGHT FOCUS ON HER YOU ARROGANT LIZARD. PAY NO ATTENTION TO US! A surging heat from within warms your insides. Your blood surges with a new found burst of mystical properties. A roiling hotness makes its way through your chest cavity. You feel lightheaded. If you weren't floating you're sure you would be wobbling in place right now. You fight to keep your eyes from fluttering closed.

“Did you imagine a dragon laid with a gnome? They had a half-dragon half-gnomish child? Even if that ridiculous scenario were possible, did you really think that this theoretical ancestor of yours wouldn't be considered some perverted fetishist for laying with something so . . . beneath us? They would be a laughingstock.”

Eve . . . starts to cry. Not strong wracking sobs or over dramatic blubbering. But simply a stream of tears pouring out through tightly shut eyelids.

“That union certainly wouldn't be born of . . . love. Rape perhaps, but definitely not love. Would you like that, aberration? To think yourself a product of rape rather than intellectual curiosity? Your version sounds much more disgusting. It makes your very existence seem much more accidental too.”

Eve's fists clench tightly. You watch her claws extend and dig into the palms of her hands, drawing blood.

“I can understand why you would be so grateful. Weave some noble tale of lineage to grasp for in the darkness to give purpose to your mutation. Your bloodline was granted a touch of greatness by my kind. I'm sure you've leveraged it to become queen of the gnomes.” One more snort of draconic laughter. “Queen of the gnomes. Queen of the ants. Queen of the grubs. Queen of the slaves.”

“Is there something else you want, Burn?” you spit at the fire-breathing monster, some alien part of you figuratively kicking yourself figuratively for drawing his attention. Burn looks to you and you try your damnedest to stay calm.

“I admit the ennui has been staved off by this comedy routine of yours. I haven't laughed this hard in some time. I have discovered too much destruction ruins the entertaining quality you lesser races possess. The moping and despair only stays fun for a half century or so. And if you can replicate similar hilarity every time I return I may just take the freak with me as a scent-catching pet. In the meantime, since you've disturbed the other group of 'mainlanders' and their ability to offer tribute, I believe you wish to volunteer for my services instead. I will return thirty days from now for payment to protect you from the harsh conditions of my island. I will keep you guessing on how much is necessary for me to not set half your paltry colony ablaze and eat your leader. Makes it more fun that way. Are we understood?”

>Message received
>Shoot Burn in the eyeball
>Fuck you!
>This isn't your island
>Something else? (write-in)

>>1104624
>YES! JUST A BIT LONGER AND WE'LL HAVE SOMETHING GOOD!
Oh shit. The text formatting of the vote option now and with the angel indeed means we're not alone in here.

>>1104638
>>Something else? (write-in)
Tell them who stole the tribute and that they did it on their own and against orders.

>>1104638
>Message received
Hey, it's too bad for Eve that her entire worldview was crushed, but this gives us 30 days to additionally prepare to take down Burn and set up a trap for him.

>>1104639
I don't think he gives a fuck whether it was on orders or not.

>>1104703
But at least he will make sure that those guys get their reward instead of running away with the gold during the fight Seaside vs dragon.

>>1104703
this

>>1104632
>PAY NO ATTENTION TO US!
Us?

Why would alan refer to himself in plural?

This doesn't sound right....

Talk to Dolah about this.

>Message received
>Something else? (write-in)
comfort Eve.

>>1104638
Tell eve that we'll get him back for that.

>>1104638
>Message received