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Twitter: https://twitter.com/MolochQM
Questions: https://ask.fm/MolochQM
Character sheet: http://pastebin.com/TuHXz5Kp
Previous threads: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=Northern%20Beasts%20Quest

“No man may claim membership of any sect, organisation or society deemed contrary to League interests. Paraphernalia associated with such groups is likewise prohibited.” - Excerpt from League Law.

Blood and spent powder – there's no smell like it.

Sitting there, slouched at the bottom of the manor stairs, that unmistakable smell hangs heavily about you. The bodies of the slain natives have been left to lie wherever they fell, and a gruesome degradation is already boiling within them. Almost decaying before your very eyes, their greying flesh putrefies and turns to liquid – a thick, brackish slime that smells of the ocean's bottommost depths. The air might be fresher outside, but you can't quite summon the effort to move and see for yourself. If that means languishing in this miasma for a while longer... so be it.

Touching a hand to your aching, heavy chest, you watch as three figures enter through the shattered front door. A pair of Ministry soldiers come first, their faces hidden by masks and heavy rifles cradled in their hands. Upon finding the room to be clear, they part so that their leader can enter. Saburakh, with his face like old leather and his expression like the end of the world, is a welcome sight.
>>
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>>1122862

“I apologise for taking so long,” he tells you as he enters, “I arrived as soon as I could, but it took longer than planned. Many of the men I was able to commandeer are... inexperienced. They needed a firm hand to give them suitable instructions. I couldn't leave until I was sure that they could handle the situation.”

Still, you reply with a shrug, he got here – just in time, by your reckoning.

“We heard gunshots when we arrived, so I took a pair of my best men and cut a path straight for you,” Saburakh gestures to the pair of Ministry soldiers, who make no sign of having heard him, “I saw your banner.”

“Oh did you?” Uriah perks up a little, speaking for the first time in what seems like hours.

“I saw it. Couldn't really tell you what it was supposed to show, but I saw it,” a bitter smile touches Saburakh's lips as he points back to the entrance, “Come on, I'd rather talk outside, and I'm sure that you feel the same way.”

“It's a wolf,” Uriah murmurs to himself, his voice low enough that only you can hear it, “It's very clearly a wolf...”

-

“As you can see, the situation is under control here. The natives resisted our advance, of course, but they were no serious threat. There was one group of them which posed a threat, however – they were defending a body. A woman, not deformed like all the others,” Saburakh pauses here, giving you an appraising look, “Schreiber, I presume. Your work?”

Yes, you confirm, to both parts. There is a short pause before Saburakh nods firmly.

“Good work,” he tells you, before lowering his voice slightly, “Between you and me, I'm glad that she won't have the chance to pass any of her knowledge along. Whatever she might have learned here, the League is better off without it. The Scholars might disagree, but I care little for their misguided opinions.”

A surprising venom creeps into Saburakh's voice as he says this, sneaking out to taint the air around you. To dispel the awkward silence that forms, you ask the first question to come to mind – what's the situation at the other side of the island, you ask, everything under control there as well?

“It is. Minimal resistance – I imagine they would have put up more of a fight if they'd been armed. Other than a small number of privately owned rifles, all they had were harpoons and tools,” with a dismissive snort, Saburakh cuts the air with a curt gesture, “No different from here, it seems. Well, other than Schreiber, did you find anything significant here?”

>There was a beast here, down in the mines. Dead now, thankfully
>Schreiber's note didn't mention anything about tainting the cannery. We might have avoided that danger
>Tell me more about your part of the attack
>I had a question... (Write in)
>Other
>>
>>1122865
>>Schreiber's note didn't mention anything about tainting the cannery. We might have avoided that danger
Might being key word, no harm in making sure.
>>
>>1122865
>There was a beast here, down in the mines. Dead now, thankfully
Do me a favor and incinerate it for me
>>Schreiber's note didn't mention anything about tainting the cannery. We might have avoided that danger
>>
>>1122865
>There was a beast here, down in the mines. Dead now, thankfully
>Schreiber's note didn't mention anything about tainting the cannery. We might have avoided that danger
>>
>>1122865
>Schreiber's note didn't mention anything about tainting the cannery. We might have avoided that danger
>What Screiber's been researching was definitely not something we want, but I wonder if we can share the more clearly harmful parts. Least that way, some fools won't go sniffing around here blind, looking for hope where there isn't.
>>
>>1122873
They can't snoop around if the place gets razed down now can they?
>>
>>1122873
Even the harmful parts will have people interested as a weapon or as a way to get control of their fellow man. Snakes are not so easily deterred.

That's why I say burn it all and leave nothing.
>>
>>1122875
why not both?

>>1122876
Better the people clearly out to hurt others, we can kill them with little fuss.

If it was desparate nobles with a lot of clout but a ticking blood clock.....we don't actually want to kill them.
>>
>>1122865
>Schreiber's note didn't mention anything about tainting the cannery. We might have avoided that danger
>>
>>1122879
>Better the people clearly out to hurt others, we can kill them with little fuss.

Not if they are smart and covert with their studying which Snakes sometimes are.

The point is you're arguing that we should add a risk of something like this happening again vs just cleaning house and eliminating that risk entirely. Mermaid was a Glorious Knight creature and should be one of a kind.
>>
>>1122887
I would think that completely erasing it is a bigger risk.

We already have idiots like Uriah who treat unknowns as "You mean there's a CHANCE." and invest in it straight away.
>>
>>1122890
But they'd find nothing. All biological remains, mermaid especially, would be gone.
>>
There was a beast down there, you say as you point across to the hills, down in the mines. It's dead now, thankfully, but the body is still there. It'll need proper disposal, you add as an afterthought, incineration would be best. Could he handle that part of the task?

“I'll send some of my men to take care of it. Sweeping the mines was always part of the agenda, and we came equipped to deal with any... infectious material,” Saburakh's mouth twitches in a bitter smirk for a moment, “Make no mistake, I was not going to take any more chances with this miserable island. You there!” He calls this last part out as a pair of Ministry soldiers pass by, and the young pair hurry to meet him. “Get an incineration team prepared and head down into the mines,” the officer explains, “You're looking for...”

An underground lake, you finish, at the lowest section of the mines. There's a body there that needs burning, and they'll know it when they see it. It's not something that they could miss.

You notice the pair exchanging a faintly worried look before nodding and hurrying away, their fear of Saburakh evidently outweighing any other trepidation they might feel. As they retreat, their commander looks back around to you. “So what was it?” he asks, with uncharacteristic curiosity, “A mermaid, just like the stories claimed?”

“Oh no,” Uriah replies, solemnly shaking his head, “Not at all like the stories claimed.”

It was old, you guess, very old and maybe unique. You certainly hope it was the only one of its kind – one was bad enough. In either case, it's dead now and soon it will be ashes. Better that way.

“I see,” his curiosity apparently sated, Saburakh turns away from you, “You performed your duties, then. That's enough for me. Now, I have my own duties to take care of. I have a transport waiting, it can take you back to the other side of the island – just follow me.”

As you walk though the desolate remains of The Folly, you glance about you. The place looks even worse now that it's been raked with gunfire and littered with corpses. Every so often you'll see men – not in Ministry uniforms, but bearing makeshift insignia – dragging bodies off to some pyre for cremation. The fires must already be burning, for a great pillar of black smoke has started to rise above this part of the island as well. The sight of it makes you think of Schreiber's notes, and was – or rather, what wasn't – mentioned in them.

You got a look at some of Schreiber's notes, you tell Saburakh, and none of them mentioned anything about tainting the cannery. That's one danger that you might have avoided. The key word, of course, is “might” - there's no way of being certain, especially considering how deranged some of her notes had been towards the end.

[1/2]
>>
>>1122898
Is it okay to leave them like that? Won't that make them all the more desperate for the next Great Idea(tm) they set their sights on? Even if it's not as immediately dangerous as the Mermaid, stuff like what happened down south is some real bad shit justified for a "greater good".
>>
>>1122900

“Unless she wished to avoid leaving any written evidence, anything that she considered incriminating,” Saburakh points out, a thought that you acknowledge with a nod. “Regardless, I'm not in the business of taking chances. The cannery will be shut down until every inch of it has been scrubbed clean. If this causes further food shortages for the rest of the Free States, so be it – better that people miss a few meals than risk an outbreak spreading.”

No arguments there, you agree, you've already lost your taste for canned fish as it is. Saburakh laughs bitterly at that, but offers no further comment. Instead, he simply leads you out of The Folly and up towards the hill road. Along with the old bus – now perforated with dozens of bullet holes and thoroughly destroyed – there sits a Ministry motor, something armoured and dangerous looking. Leaning against the side is a woman, nonchalantly smoking and looking out across the island. The driver, you assume.

“Pardon me, sir,” Uriah speaks up as you're approaching the armoured car, and Saburakh's face darkens at the sound of his voice. “I wanted to ask about the research materials left in Schreiber's manor,” he begins, “They-”

“Will be taken into the Ministry's care and examined carefully,” Saburakh interrupts, “Anything deemed safe will be turned over to the College. Anything considered unsound will be destroyed. This is not up for debate.”

It may be that Saburakh's distaste for Scholars is colouring his judgement here, but you can hardly claim to be unbiased either. At least turning everything over to the Ministry beforehand should cut out any risks – and destroying any trace of the mermaid itself should eliminate the rest of the danger. Whatever else happens, you won't be seeing a repeat of this mess. For that, you're thankful.

“Then, are we finished here?” nodding towards the armoured car, Saburakh folds his arms and glares at both of you, “I'm going to remain here for the time being. I want to supervise the clean up. You can return to the mainland, your work is finished.”

>Very well, we'll get moving
>There was one last thing... (Write in)
>Other
>>
>>1122932
>>Very well, we'll get moving
We've done all the things I can think of, time to head home.
>>
>>1122932
>There was one last thing... (Write in)
that one thing in the tunnels we didn't check out. Are we just going to not care about it? May as well tell the tunnel team about it.
>>
>>1122932
>There was one last thing... There's rusty traps everywhere. Tell your men to be careful.
>Also, there may still be locals in the mines.
>Very well, we'll get moving
>>
>>1122932
>Very well, we'll get moving
>>
>>1122948
All we know is that there was likely more fish people there, they're moving to clean it up but yeah I guess a warning can't hurt.
>>
Just a few last things you wanted to warn him about, you tell Saburakh, for when his men go down into the mines. There were traps scattered about the entrance – rusty and in poor condition, but more than capable of harming a man. Something to keep an eye out for. Beyond that, you can't rule out the possibility of there being more natives in the tunnels. There was one branch that you didn't investigate, and there may be hostile locals hiding within.

“A good point. I'll send a larger group down, that should be enough to deter any last traces of resistance,” nodding, Saburakh considers the issue for a moment more, “Do you know what else was down there?”

Not for certain, you reply ruefully, but there were signs of natives passing through in large numbers. Whatever it was, it might have been important to them for some reason.

“All the more reason to investigate, then. Now,” cracking his knuckles slowly, Saburakh raises his voice and addresses the languishing driver, “You!”

“Loretta, sir!” the woman replies sharply, fumbling into some semblance of formal order.

“You, take these people back to the docks at the double and then return here,” the Ministry officer turns to leave, having issued these orders, then he looks back to you, “And see the doctor when you arrive, both of you. You look like you need it.”

No arguments there, either.

-

If there is one consolation to the drive back into Tolnir, it's that the Ministry motor is a far smoother ride than the rickety old bus you arrived by. Even so, every bump in the road sends a shudder of pain running through your ribs. Maybe Loretta's driving is a part of that, with her tendency towards irresponsible degrees of speed. When Saburakh ordered her to hurry, she certainly took him at his word.

Heedless to the dangers, she guides the armoured car around hillside roads and steep curves, whistling a jaunty tune to herself all the while. Even the rain resumes, splattering against the windows and drowning out her whistling, she keeps up the foolhardy speed. It's only when the car finally exits the hills that you can breath easily, sighing in obvious relief. It would be a cruel jest to come this far, only to die when your motor is driven off a cliff.

“Alright you two, this is your stop!” Loretta announces, leaning around and giving you a cheerful grin, “I gotta get this rig back to the boss. I wonder if I can beat my time...”

“Good grief,” Uriah mumbles to himself, “If I never get in another motor again, it will be too soon.”

The driver's laughter follows you as you leave the vehicle, and – although it must surely be your imagination – for a long while afterwards.

[1/2]
>>
>>1122987

Walking back through Tolnir to reach the docks, a hideous stench assaults you as you pass the Ministry outpost. Most of the bodies have been gathered here, and the smell of so much death in one place is almost overpowering. Clutching your scarf to your face, you hurry on by – there's nothing here for you to see.

At the docks, a pair of ships are waiting for you. One is the Ministry ship you arrived by, right at the start of this mess, while the other is larger, devoid of any official insignia. Likely something that was commandeered at the last minute, ship and crew both drafted in to make up for a lack of manpower. That would explain the irregular troops, at least, with their lack of uniforms and slack discipline. Ministry trained or not, they were certainly enough to get the job done.

-

“I would advise taking it easy for a week or so, just to give yourself the best chance at making a full recovery,” Lars tells you later, once his examination has concluded, “You are capable of taking it easy, aren't you?”

Of course, you lie, you'll take as long as you need.

“Hmm,” doubt fills the Scholar's eyes, “Well, I suppose it can't be helped. If you were going to die, I suspect you would have done so already. I can give you a bottle of painkillers, if you wish, just something to take the edge off. Is there anything else I can do for you?”

Some preservative would be nice, you reply, something to keep a tissue sample from rotting away.

“I shudder to think about why you're asking for this,” Lars mutters as he turns away, rummaging though a case of medical supplies, “But here. This should suffice.” Turning back, he offers you a metal sample jar, some vile chemical sloshing about inside it. Once his back is turned, you pop the jar open and drop in your latest trophy. That should keep it nice and fresh for the time being.

“There, you're finished as well,” Mirrah says, stepping back to check the bandage she had been tying around Uriah's arm, “Not bad, if I do say so myself.”

“Not bad... for a librarian,” Uriah counters, his unimpressed tone causing the young Scholar to wither somewhat, “If we're finished here, I'm going back up on deck. Hanson, would you care to join me? I wanted to have a quiet word with you, and this might be the best chance we'll get.”

When you glance across to him, Lars shrugs slightly. You're free to go, that shrug seems to say. Shrugging your coat back on, you follow Uriah up onto the deck and the cold, wet air above.

[2/3]
>>
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>>1123015

“I thought it best to discuss certain matters with you here, in private,” the young Hunter begins stiffly, his old formality returning in full strength, “In particular, I wanted to take this chance to get our stories straight, if you excuse the crude term. It's best that our formal reports match each other, as to avoid any later... complications.” Clearing his throat, Uriah tugs lightly at the newly applied bandage on his arm. “First of all,” he continues, “No mention of dreams. We agreed as such, after all.”

Dreams, you reply with a wan smile, what dreams?

“Yes, quite,” Uriah can't hide the relief from his eyes, “Second of all... I wanted to know what your report would say. Not your official report, about this Hunter business, but your report about me.”

A pause here, as you consider his words. He knew, you ask slowly, that you were asked to check up on him?

“Now I know for certain,” Uriah offers a faint shrug, “I only suspected beforehand. No, I am not so naïve as to be oblivious to certain matters. Considering my past history, I was well aware that questions were being asked about me. About my... performance as a Hunter, as well as any other irregularities. I won't ask you to change your report, or to give me a more favourable one, but I would like to know what you were planning to write. If nothing else, I'd like the chance to prepare myself for any consequences.”

In truth, you hadn't thought about the report in a long time – you had other things on your mind. The thought that you might well hold Uriah's reputation, and his future, in your hands is a strangely humbling one. Certainly, he didn't show any of the physical abnormalities you were tasked with looking out for, but...

Well, now you know the truth about Old Grey, about Krebs and Uriah's role in the “Hunt”.

>As far as I'm concerned, you're a promising young Hunter. That's all I'll say
>The truth needs to be told, Uriah, even if it harms your good name
>You're still inexperienced, and my report will reflect that
>Other
>>
>>1123036
>As far as I'm concerned, you're a promising young Hunter.
>I WILL say that you seemed to have a changed mind about the concept of flaunting kills to the masses.
>You've a mouth for complaints and it's costed you, but time will tell if next time you learn to keep it in or succeed in spite of it. You're not a bad shot in stressful situations, in any case.
>>
>>1123036
>Other

The truth, we can't neglect the fact that he complained himself into a bear trap, but if this teaches him a lesson about his attitude on the job he proved himself a capable hunter.
>>
>>1123036
"You embellished a hunt for personal fame and your arrogant attitude could have gotten you and the rest of your group killed had I let you have your way during the initial investigation of this village.

All that said, your actions today during the thick of it proved to me that you are definitely a Hunter material if you keep working at it. I'll keep the Old Grey story out of the report, but work on your attitude. Or at the very least give more consideration and thought during a situation instead of letting your ego get in the way. Also to watch your step next time."
>>
>>1123050
Something like this sounds good. He is promising even if he isn't the most suited for the job. If he really set his mind to it, he'd be a decent hunter.
>>
>>1123036

>>1123050
>>1123052
These are good.
>>
Sighing, you lean on the ship's railing and look out across the open ocean. This sort of thing is why the idea of being an instructor never appealed to you. The idea that you could make or break someone's career with the stroke of a pen always seemed faintly unsavoury to you. A strange complaint, but there you have it. In a situation like this, it's best just to stick with the truth. Put across the facts, and let someone else deal with them.

As far as you're concerned, you begin cautiously, he's a promising young Hunter. That said, there's a lot of room for improvement, his attitude specifically. His arrogance and hunger for personal glory could have got him killed, you continue, and the rest of the team along with him. Additionally, he embellished an earlier Hunt, although he seems to have come to regret that decision. Those are issues that you can't ignore.

For a moment it looks as though Uriah is about to argue, to protest against your assessment, but then he nods brusquely. Good, you think, he's learning already.

That said, you tell him, his actions over this mission demonstrated that he definitely has what it takes to be a good Hunter – so long as he keeps working at it. Think things a little more, complain a little less and work on his attitude, that's all he needs to do. Well, except maybe for one other thing.

“Oh?” narrowing his eyes slightly, Uriah studies your face, “And what, may I ask, is that?”

Look where he's putting his feet, you suggest, that's all. There is another pause, and then Uriah splutters out a burst of laughter. Fighting to keep a straight face for a moment longer, you give in and chuckle along with him. It wasn't that funny, but you've both got a lot of stress to laugh off.

“I'll keep that under advisement,” the young Hunter promises, “But, ah, I do have to ask... about my prior Hunt...”

Old Grey. The laugher dies as you murmur that name. You'll omit that part from your report, you decide, there's no point in digging up the past now. Still, you don't want to see him parading any more corpses about in future.

“I rather suspect that I don't have the stomach for that sort of thing now,” his voice is honest, solemn, “So yes, no more of those antics. I couldn't agree more. Was there any other advice you wanted to offer?”

He's a pretty good shot, you add, when it comes down to it. He might want to make the most of that.

“Ah, yes,” distaste colours his features, “Guns are so uncouth, but... I can't deny their practicality. I'll consider it, certainly.”

Nodding, your reply is cut off by the ship's engines roaring into life. That seems to put an end to the official business, at least.

>I'm going to get some rest. You should too
>So what are you going to do now?
>Uriah, I wanted to ask you something... (Write in)
>Other
>>
>>1123134
>>So what are you going to do now?
Just do some odd jobs? Try to get royal status somehow?
>>
>>1123134
>So what are you going to do now?
>>
>>1123134
>So what are you going to do now?
"Still going to try find something that'll cure your father? Probably doesn't need to be said, but take all miracle cure rumors with a grain of salt."

>I'm going to get some rest. You should too
>>
>>1123134
Hunting is dirty business, it would be wise for him to invest in garnements that can handle the wear and tear that comes with the job.
>>
When the roar of the engines has lowered to a dull growl, you speak up above the background noise. So what's he going to do next, you ask, any plans? Some odd jobs, or is he aiming to get a title somehow?

“I'm afraid my immediate plans are nowhere near as lofty as that,” Uriah remarks with a rueful smile, “When you return to Odyss... I'm going to visit Abernath. We parted on rather poor terms last time, and I fear that I've allowed that wound to fester. It's about time that I swallowed my pride and spoke him with him. We may never see eye to eye on most things, but that is, perhaps, a fact of life. He taught me a lot, even if I was too stubborn to admit it at the time. Now, I feel like I can finally appreciate everything that he did for me.”

It's a surprisingly mature answer, not what you had been expecting from him. When you say as much, your words frank and honest, Uriah laughs lightly.

“Yes, well, I may have slightly selfish reasons. I feel like I've really made something of myself, and I want to hear old Abernath say as much. I would so love to hear that,” smiling to himself, Uriah touches his wounded arm once again, “As I said, slightly selfish. Excuse me this one indulgence. Although, if I may ask, what had you been expecting from me?”

You thought that he might still be trying to find some way of curing his father, you admit, that would have been your guess. If so, he should really take any rumours of a miracle cure with a grain of salt. After what you've seen here, though, that shouldn't need to be said.

“No, I... You ARE right. I would wish to relieve my... to relieve a certain gentleman of the illness gripping him, but I know better now. Miracle cures are a false hope,” sighing, Uriah casts a suddenly weary eye out across the waters, “There are certain facts in life, sir, that must be accepted. Likewise, there comes a time when a man can no longer fight against the hand he has been given. It may not be pleasant, but...”

He leaves that sentence unfinished, trailing off into nothing. Maybe it was never meant to be finished. You're going to get some rest, you tell him with forced levity, he should do the same. Life always looks better after a spot of rest.

“A pity that my wardrobe won't look any better,” the foppish young man laments, brushing down the stained coat he wears, “I dare say that this will never be the same again.”

Hunting is a dirty business, you point out, he might want to invest in some new garments – ones that can better handle a little wear and tear.

If the look on Uriah's face is any indication, he would sooner die than make such a compromise. With a bemused laugh, you shake your head and head below deck. Some people just have skewed priorities - another fact of life.

[1/2]
>>
>>1123218
Just had a thought but what if we do find giant's blood and there's only a very small amount to go around? Would it even be possible to mass produce it? Would we be okay with handing it off instead of taking it and using it ourselves? Henryk and Lize are top priorities but other than that I don't think anyone else is in dire need of it.
>>
>>1123225
Like you said it depends on how much there is and what it does.

If it turned us into a mundane human would we take it? Would Lize? I know she would give it to her parents instantly to stop their suffering, but Dragon's blood has boons as well. Artemis keeps hinting at an alternative option, but she keeps being elusive about it. There is also Isten's blood stasis to consider as well.
>>
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>>1123218

The thoughts of miracle cures and false hope are still running through your mind as you amble through the ship's tight corridors, seeking out a cabin to sleep in. You're sure that there should have been one around here somewhere, but perhaps you took a wrong turn in your weary state. Whatever the reason, you emerge back at the cargo hold – still littered with the remnants of the mission. Old rifles, the weapons you “liberated” from the Tolnir Ministry, are stacked up in one corner while a small knot of people are playing cards in a loose circle – Lize and Mirrah among them. When your footsteps rattle the metal floor, all eyes flick over to you for a moment. The others look away soon after, but Lize's gaze remains locked on you.

Throwing her cards down in immediate and uncaring disinterest, the young Dragon scrabbles to her feet and rushes across to meet you – to tackle you in a tight embrace, you suspect, if you hadn't help up a hand to stop her. As it is, her dash ends in an ungainly stumble.

“Hey, c'mon,” she whines, “I was just trying to be friendly!”

Sorry, you reply, doctor's orders – you're to avoid anything too strenuous or dangerous. Unfortunately, that includes her.

“Man...” Lize shuffles in place like a petulant child, “I'm guessing that these aren't the kinds of orders you can just, like, ignore, right?”

Right, you agree, unless you wanted to end up with all kinds of punctured organs. As a matter of personal opinion, you'd rather avoid that sort of thing.

“Yeah, see, I don't blame you for that,” frowning for a moment, Lize soon changes tune and gives you a bright smile, “I guess we'll just have to take it easy together, it'll be like a holiday – a proper one!”

So much for avoiding any strenuous activity.

-

Odyss doesn't have many “nice” places for the likes of you. There are plenty of dingy bars, brothels and sleazy hotels, or there are plenty of opulent dwellings for those of an altogether higher class, but there's almost nothing in-between. Still, with an uncanny instinct, Lize is able to find a surprisingly quaint little cafe within an hour of arriving. With a while until your train was due to arrive, you saw no reason not to indulge a little.

“So,” Lize says, pointing a forkful of cake at you, “All this talk of cures and medicine made me think. If you had ONE dose of the stuff – the real stuff, stuff that didn't kill you dead or anything like that – who would you give it to? Would you keep it to yourself?”

Come one, you groan, that's hardly a fair question to ask.

“It's just a question, no harm in it!” Lize leans a little forwards, “I'm not gonna sulk if you give me an answer I don't like. C'mon, what would you do with it?”

>What would YOU do?
>I told you, I'm not answering that
>Alright, I would do... (Write in)
>Other
>>
Shit. Moloch please.

>>1123321
>>Alright, I would do... (Write in)
Take it myself. We're in pretty bad shape with our blood, and I'd like to stick around for a bit longer.

>>What would YOU do?
And then turn it back on her.
>>
>>1123321
>>Other
"It depends a little. Does this miracle just take away the bad stuff of our blood and keep the perks or do I lose everything Wolf? As much as I grumble I kind of like being a Wolf, it's a part of me."

"But to answer your question. I'd probably take it myself or just give it you. One of the two. I might have an extra out due to Artemis and if that pans out I might not have to take a cure at all."

>What would YOU do?
>>
It's still a bad question, you grumble, there are just too many variables involved. What price would this cure come with? For example, say it purged your blood of all impurity – would it let you keep the perks, or would you lose everything? Being a Wolf isn't an easy life, but you can't deny that it's who you are. Changing that... it's no small matter to consider. So, what conditions does this miracle cure of hers come with?

“What? I don't know!” shrugging, Lize stabs her fork down into the pile of cake, “This is just a way of dodging the question, isn't it? I'm wise to your ways, mister!”

No, you stress, it's an important thing to consider. Still, if she can't give you any extra information, you'll have to answer it the best you can. Your answer, in that case... you'd probably take it yourself, or you'd give it to her. One of the two, you couldn't say which. On one hand your blood is getting pretty polluted, and you'd like as much extra time as possible. On the other hand, Artemis might have an alternative way to cure you. If that works, you wouldn't need the cure in the first place.

“I see, interesting. Interesting indeed,” sticking the forkful of cake into her mouth at last, Lize begins to chew. Seeing your chance – this is one of the few moments in which she won't talk – you launch your counter attack.

What about her, you ask, what would she do?

Lize slows her chewing and narrows her eyes in suspicion, buying herself as much time as possible before answering your question. “C'mon,” she complains after swallowing, “That's hardly a fair question to ask.”

That's what you said, you protest, and she kept badgering you for an answer!

“Okay, I guess,” sighing, Lize thinks for a moment, “Hell, I'd sell it. Open auction, all welcome. I bet I could make a fat stack of cash off it. See, my logic is, with one dose I'd feel bad about using it on myself or anyone else. Whoever wants it most can buy it from me and boom! It's not my problem any more!” Savouring the moment, Lize gives you a brilliant grin. “You see?” she presses, “I get to live a comfy life with my pile of money, and someone else gets to make the tough choice. Everybody wins!”

Okay, you admit, but what if the person who buys it is a real bastard? What then?

“Oh, I never thought about that,” Lize frowns, “Man, I had such a great plan worked out and all...”

This entire conversation, you sigh, is stupid.

“Maybe so,” the young Dragon retorts, her voice defensive, “But it helped pass the time, didn't it? Look, it's almost time for our train!”

A small mercy, but you'll take whatever you can get.

[1/2]
>>
>>1123384
>Open auction, all welcome
She's insane. She'd be killed on the spot.
>>
>>1123384
>Okay, you admit, but what if the person who buys it is a real bastard? What then?

Well it's one dose that I assume can't be replicated. You can't really do much with that even if you are the biggest asshole. He'd probably be killed as well.
>>
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>>1123384

As the northbound train rattles you from Odyss to Thar Dreyse, you think more seriously about Lize's joking question from before – assuming, of course, that it had been as farcical as she had suggested. On one hand, you can see her point – with a single dose, there would always be the guilt of choosing one person over another. Handing the cure over to someone else would, at the very least, avoid the burden of responsibility. An open auction, though? You've heard of more sensible ideas, for sure.

Still, absurd plans aside, how else would you happily choose who to cure? Before, you had weighed up the ability to save or damn Uriah's career with a piece of paperwork. That had seemed like a heavy burden at the time, but compared with the chance to save a life...

Best not to think about it now, you think grimly to yourself, it might not come to that. In the far north, Giant's blood might flow like water. You'll never know until you get the chance to see for yourself.

-

“Here, you,” Anders grunts as you pass him by, this surly voice adding that little bit of extra stress to your day, “Need a word. It's about that neighbour of yours – we've had complaints. Noises, seems like. You're heading up there anyway, you give her a good talking to.”

Noises, you repeat, coming from Alyssia's apartment.

“Aye, loud enough that other folks are complaining,” your landlord squints at you, “So tell her to keep it down. Saves me the trouble of writing her up, making it official.”

Certainly, you sigh, you'll make it your top priority. With that said, you turn and march on up the stairs, leaving Anders to grumble away in the background. Giggling softly, Lize hurries to catch up with you.

“I guess she made it up with Hyde,” Lize whispers, in the tone of a veteran gossip, “All those noises!”

She's got a filthy mind, you remark, there's bound to be a perfectly innocent explanation for all this.

-

When you arrive at your apartment, you take a moment to dump your things before knocking at Alyssia's door. Might as well get this over with sooner rather than later, especially if it keeps Anders off your back. When she doesn't answer your first knock, you try again – harder this time, louder, and then you hear a muffled call from within. A moment passes, and then the door creaks open.

Alyssia Hemwick, you muse, looks about as bad as you feel. Her hair is matted, and her eyes are bloodshot. A strong smell hangs about her, and it takes a moment to place it – mazka, that vile southern alcohol.

“Henryk,” she croaks, “Excuse me, I'm a little worse for wear at the moment. I'm not... not so used to drinking.”

>Has Hyde been by?
>Anders told me about... noises
>You look terrible. You need a cup of tea
>I need to ask you something... (Write in)
>Other
>>
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>>1123384
>Hell, I'd sell it. Open auction, all welcome.I bet I could make a fat stack of cash off it.
Dragons are reptiles, big reptiles that have an obsesive love of gold. I shouldn't be surprised...
>>
>>1123484
>>You look terrible. You need a cup of tea
>>
>>1123484
>You look terrible. You need a cup of tea
"Mazka is pretty intense....how much have you had?"

>Anders told me about... noises
"Mazka effects? The totem? Hyde? All of the above?"
>>
>>1123484
>>You look terrible. You need a cup of tea
Mazka isn't something you should abuse.
>>Anders told me about... noises
>Has Hyde been by?
Are those things related? Don't tell me he's been hunting high on mazka...
>>
>>1123484
>You look terrible. You need a cup of tea
>Anders told me about... noises
>Has Hyde been by?
>>
She looks terrible, you begin firmly, she definitely needs a cup of tea.

Alyssia stares at you for a moment, as if your words had been spoken in some blasphemous ancient tongue, and then something lights up in her eyes. One word, at least, was able to pierce the miasma hanging around her. “Tea,” she repeats slowly, “Tea would be good.” Another awkward pause, and then she steps back so that you can enter her apartment. The smell is heavier here, strong enough that you almost feel a little drunk just from breathing it in. Her apartment is messier than you've ever seen, and Hartmann's southern idol sits in plain view – almost as if it had been given pride of place.

It's a good thing that Anders didn't come up here personally, you realise with a faint shudder, even a passing glance through the ajar door would be enough to see the totem. Checking again that the door was closed firmly behind you, you amble through to her cluttered kitchen and get to work on some tea. Mazka is pretty strong stuff, you remark, she really shouldn't abuse it. How much has she had?

“I'm not sure,” Alyssia scratches her head, wincing as her fingers pull at matted knots of hair, “Maybe... all of it?”

Hell, you mutter, no wonder she's a mess. Shaking your head wearily, you salvage one clean cup and start to poke through a bewildering collection of teas, all with different perfumes. As you're looking through them, an old memory surfaces, something that Lize told you – doesn't Alyssia keep poison here as well?

Slowly, you set the teacup aside and step warily away from the kitchen. You'll... leave that for later.

-

Alyssia slowly gets more awake and aware as you bustle around her apartment, cleaning up some of the most egregious messes. So, you ask with forced lightness, has Hyde been by?

“Hyde?” Alyssia repeats the name, “Oh, he was here, wasn't he? We had a good long... talk. That before all of this so, ah, it's all a little fuzzy now. We agreed on something, I'm sure of it. I was happy, and... Oh, of course! I was in a good mood, so I thought that I'd try and do... something. I think.” Pausing again, the witch frowns at the totem as if it was to blame for all of this. Maybe it is.

This, you consider, could take a while. You're going to need some help with this.

-

“Wow!” Lize blurts out upon first setting eyes on Alyssia, “You're a mess!”

Yes she is, you sigh, but maybe a cold shower would shock her away. That's why you asked Lize here, to help with the... more delicate parts of the procedure.

“Ah, I see. Say no more!” nodding, Lize starts to guide Alyssia into the bathroom and nudges the door shut. As you're going back to examining the collection of teas, you hear the first shrill shriek.

That's probably a good sign.

[1/2]
>>
>>1123611

“Honestly Henryk, that was really too cruel,” Alyssia complains, shivering and clutching the cup of hot tea closer, “But... thank you.” Still damp from the cold shower and bundled up in a heavy towel dressing gown, she looks rather like a drowned rat, but at least she has a new sense of life and vitality in her eyes.

So perhaps you should take it from the top, you tell her gently, Hyde was here – was this before or after she started... indulging?

“Before, definitely,” the witch nods, “He came around for a good talk. Well, to give you the short version, we worked things out. It put me in a good mood, so I thought about trying some... experiments. I wanted to see if I could get anything out of this totem. He hasn't seen any of this, don't worry.”

And he hasn't been drinking any of that stuff, you press, he hasn't been getting drunk on mazka and going out Hunting?

“No, of course not! That sounds incredibly dangerous,” vigorously shaking her head, Alyssia pushes strands of wet hair out of her face, “He has been on business, though. That's another reason why I was working – I knew that I'd have time to focus, to work. I suppose it all got a little... out of hand.”

Definitely, you agree, Anders has been complaining about the noise. You're going to assume that it was something to do with her “research”, correct?

“Well, the notes you gave me said that I needed noise and activity to wake the spirit. I guess I just...” clearing her throat, Alyssia avoids your eyes, “I didn't realise how loud I was being. I wasn't entirely lucid for much of it, as you might have, uh, noticed. It's okay now, there won't be any more trouble, you can promise Anders that!” Offering you a bright attempt at a smile, Alyssia takes a deep drink of tea. “Anyway, it doesn't quite work yet, but I've got a good feeling about this. We need to do... more,” holding her hands wide, Alyssia makes an expansive gesture, “More noise, more fuss, more everything! I mean, uh... if you want to.”

You consider her offer. There should be plenty of mazka left in your supply, so there's no problem there. The noise might be a problem – you'd need to take the totem somewhere remote, the forests outside Thar Dreyse perhaps.

>Alright, let's do it – but we're going to be discrete from now on
>This is getting too risky. It's time to stop
>Other
>>
>>1123703
>>Alright, let's do it – but we're going to be discrete from now on
not now though, I'm out of duty for at least a week. This will let you prepare anything you think we'll need for when we try this thing.
>>
>>1123703
>>This is getting too risky. It's time to stop
Noise is bad, think it's better to drop this thing.
>>
>>1123703
>Other
Do you have any idea what this totem will do though?
>>
>>1123703
>>Alright, let's do it – but we're going to be discrete from now on
>>
>>1123703
>>1123714
This, and second

> Hide in plain view

Let's hold a party! Make it all official and whatnot. We can buy a bunch of booze for the neighbors then go ahead once they're passed out drunk. Including Anders.

Maybe Alyssa has something that can help them get there too. Huh. Silent Hill flashback.
>>
Looking at the totem for a moment, you think back to what Hartmann had told you about it, or tried to tell you. It's somewhat difficult to separate his excitement and enthusiasm from cold, hard truth, but that's what you've got to do. It was supposed to be some kind of protective spirit, but what exactly does that mean? Does she have any idea, you ask Alyssia, any hint as to what this thing might actually do?

“Uh, well, it protects things, I suppose,” Alyssia makes a vague gesture, “Things like you. I'm starting to understand it, although it's not particularly easy to explain. You remember the wreath I made for you, right?”

Sure, you reply, it kept you safe up in the far north.

“Well, with the proper coaxing, this should do much the same thing,” reaching out, Alyssia tentatively pats the totem, “Only, it'll be a lot easier to deal with, since you wouldn't need to carry it around with you. The spirit itself would follow you, but the totem stays put. That's helpful, isn't it?”

More helpful than carrying around an entirely illegal piece of witchcraft, you admit, certainly. How does she know all this?

“Ah, well, you see...” swallowing, Alyssia winces in anticipation of your reaction, “It told me.”

While she was drunk out of her mind on mazka, you add, an alcohol known for causing hallucinations and delusions.

“It does sound sort of... dubious when you put it like that,” the witch shifts uneasily in her chair, “But I really don't think it's like that! At the very least, it wouldn't hurt to give it a shot, right?”

Unless the Ministry hears about your latest bout of pagan rites, you think, but... oh, what the hell. Might as well give it a shot, you tell Alyssia, although you'll need to wait a little. You're not well enough for a wild party quite yet – you'll need a week, and that'll give her a chance to prepare as well. It might take a little bit of time to get everything ready, after all.

“Okay!” Alyssia gives you a determined nod, her uncertainly melting away in an instant, “We'll postpone things until you're ready.”

A week to prepare, you think to yourself, and it might take you just as long to recover.

>I'm going to pause things here for today. I'll pick things up tomorrow, and I'll stick around for a while in case anyone has any questions
>Thanks to everyone who contributed today!
>>
>>1123804
Thanks for running.
>>
>>1123804
Thanks for running!
>>
>>1123804
Thanks for running Moloch. Kinda scared about being caught but I'm sure we'll work something out.
>>
>>1123804
does the concept of fireworks exist in this setting?

Make lots of noise and light, keep beasts away, etc. That used to be the original reason people used them on festivals.
>>
>>1124348
that sounds brilliant, although I'm not certain how intelligent the beasts in this setting are, if they are like animals fireworks would do the job if they're smart enough to learn not so much
>>
>>1124348
This could attract people to us though
>>
Uriah managed to hold an improvised festival easily enough.

Let's check the calendar if there are any holidays coming up soon. Maybe all we'll need to do is to go a corner with a lot of bars and pubs on Friday night.

Let's use Iosefka! Invite a swing or jazz band or whatever to play at her place and have Happy Hour from early evening until well past midnight. We'll put up posters all over the city.
>>
>>1124348

>Bit late, but fireworks do exist. They're not all that common or advanced, they're more or less just a more elaborate version of flares, but they do exist. In terms of warding off beasts, fireworks would normally keep them away. Less so if the beasts are being driven into a frenzy or some other uncommonly aggressive state, but fireworks would normally do the job.
>>
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A week is a long time to spend doing nothing.

Of course, it's not really “nothing” that you're doing, it's just nothing interesting. You write your report on the Tolnir mission, complete with a supplementary report on Uriah, and deliver it to the Ministry by hand. That's nothing strenuous, even if it is more writing than you've done in a long time. A stiff and aching hand is, all things considered, not much of an injury. Other than paperwork, you spend a lot of time lying in bed or taking sedate walks about the city. Nothing risky, nothing dangerous.

Nothing interesting. When you fall asleep one night and wake up in Nihilo, it comes as a welcome break from the monotony of daily life.

-

“We've come a long way, you and I,” Artemis purrs, walking a slow circle around you, “Just three beasts left now, three little tiny bumps in the road.” She laughs at this, her voice coming from behind you like a rattle of bells. “Well, okay,” she admits, “Maybe that's being a little too presumptuous. Let's take this one step at a time!”

That's how you've always done it, you agree, since this all started. It's strange to think back to the very start of this road, and how things have changed since then. You mention as such, and then Artemis laughs again.

“The good old days!” she giggles, “Do you remember how we made our little arrangement? You wanted-”

Power, you muse, that's what you wanted. The power to strike back at the people who sank your ship and almost killed you. It took a little longer than you expected, and it wasn't nearly as simple as you'd thought either, but you got what you wanted in the end. Thinking about it, for what seems like the first time in a great many weeks, you nod in slow satisfaction.

“See? You got what you wanted, and I'm going to get what I want,” clapping her hands together, Artemis gives you a sharp-toothed smile, “Everyone wins!”

You match her brilliant optimism with a faltering smile of your own, rather more hesitant and uncertain. For end goal is still remarkably unclear, while the end of your road is all too clear – and end that she has only hastened along. If she can cure you, as she has hinted at, fine. If not... well, you'll have to seek out an alternative path.

“Hmm? You look glum,” tilting her head to the side, Artemis gives you a puzzled look, “Aren't you excited? We've still got a lot to look forwards to, after all!”

>You're right. What's next?
>I might not have all that much to look forwards to, if you can't cure me
>We talked before about drawing power from these beasts. Any success with that?
>We need to talk... (Write in)
>Other
>>
>>1126628
>I might not have all that much to look forwards to, if you can't cure me

>We talked before about drawing power from these beasts. Any success with that?
>>
>>1126628
>>I might not have all that much to look forwards to, if you can't cure me
>>We talked before about drawing power from these beasts. Any success with that?
>>
>>1126628
>>I might not have all that much to look forwards to, if you can't cure me
>>
>>1126628
>I might not have all that much to look forwards to, if you can't cure me
>We talked before about drawing power from these beasts. Any success with that?
>>
>>1126628
>I might not have all that much to look forwards to, if you can't cure me
>>
You might not have all that much to look forwards to, you point out bluntly, if she can't cure you at the end of all this. Maybe you could have put that in more diplomatic fashion, but you're not feeling all that diplomatic right now. Artemis, at least, doesn't seem to take your point badly – reacting, instead, with faint confusion.

“You're still worried about that?” she asks lightly, “I can do it, I'm sure of it.”

It's about time she gave you more than that, you press, something more than assurances. What exactly is she claiming to be able to do?

“It's...” Artemis begins, screwing her face up in a tight frown as she thinks, “It's hard to describe, Henryk, you can't see it like I can. The way I see it, you've got a beast in your heart – it's growing all the time, and one day it'll swallow you up. The more of my power I can recover, though, the more I can see it, see? The picture is becoming clearer and clearer.” Stepping closer, Artemis taps a finger against your chest, her hand lingering for a moment. “One day, I'll be able to see it properly,” she murmurs, “And then... I can DO something about it. I can... tame it, I think.”

Tame it, you repeat, that makes you sound like little more than one of her “pets”.

“Oh no, you misunderstand,” she shakes her head, “It would be your pet – you'd be the one holding the leash. Imagine it, Henryk! Complete control and formidable power, the perfect balance of beast and man!” She shrugs suddenly, as if recalling something. “Or if that doesn't suit you,” she adds, “I could tear it out at the root. You'd be a man, once and for all. A little bit boring if you ask me, but I suppose we all have our own wishes.”

Two choices – to transcend your current state, or to abandon it. On one hand, an unknown future. On the other, turning your back on the life you've let up until this point. The discussion you had with Lize seems strangely prophetic now, in light of these new thoughts.

Assuming, a faint doubt murmurs, that Artemis is telling the truth about all this.

“Anyway, that's all ahead of us,” stepping lightly away from you, the hem of her robe whispering across the ice, Artemis laughs brightly, “Let's focus on the here and now!”

Her sudden change of tone seems to come at a very convenient time for her, just as your thoughts were starting to darken. Pure coincidence, you're sure. Frowning faintly, you follow her and ask your next question. Last time you spoke properly, you tell her, you talked about drawing power from some of the beasts here. Has she thought any more about any of that?

“Oh!” Artemis snaps her fingers, “I did, yes! You know what? I think it might just be possible! Let me tell you ALL about it...”

[1/2]
>>
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>>1126692

Humming cheerfully to herself, Artemis strolls across the ice until she comes across the first of her great beasts – the first one that you ever killed. The deformed, half-dead abortion of a horse is still dragging itself about, breath rasping in and out of its split mouth as you reach it. “Even a crippled, broken thing like this has some use,” Artemis begins, “Living like that, you stop noticing pain after a while – you might be able to shrug it off as well.”

Next, she stops at the hulking brute, still trudging about despite the shattered mess of its skull. “Nothing too surprising here,” the goddess continues, “It''s strength could be yours. Maybe just for a few short moments, but sometimes that's all you need. Where's the fun in being subtle, right?”

The Divine Beast was the third, you recall, what does that have to offer?

“Well, that's an interesting point,” Artemis turns to look you in the eye, “We've already tapped into it, although I don't think either of us realised it at the time. It had secrets, that one – ancient tongues and dead languages. Pretty nice, huh? Anyway, moving along. What do we have here?”

The slithering mound of festering meat that is the Gluttonous Beast, that's what. You spend a moment watching it writhe across the barren landscape, shedding worm-like young behind it. “You could heal yourself, I think, curling up to lick your wounds,” reaching down, Artemis picks up one of the young snakes and dangles it before her eyes, “I wouldn't count too much on it though – don't try and stick any limbs back on, nothing like that.” Shrugging, she throws the young snake away, only for its parent to snap it up and devour it.

“And then we have this,” loathing creeps into Artemis' voice as she moves on, lashing out to seize the Furtive Beast and hold it up to you. It squeals quietly, wriggling its chitinous limbs. “With this thing's power, you could hide yourself. Or rather... you'd make yourself harder to notice. Something like that,” dropping the parasite, she shrugs, “You could be sneaky, that's what I mean.”

And then there was the Lunatic Beast, you say as you glance across to the leering eye, you're not sure if you want to know...

“Yes, that one was... difficult,” frowning, Artemis follows your gaze, “The best I can tell you is that it offers insight – a new perspective. Maybe answers of some kind, even if you don't have the questions just yet. The moonlight reveals much, after all.”

That sounds pretty vague.

“I did warn you,” Artemis gives you a helpless gesture, “Shall we continue?”

[2/3]
>>
>>1126732
ohboy this is gonna quite the list to choose from.
>>
>>1126732

You're glad to leave the Lunatic behind – you've never felt particularly comfortable with its glaring eye burning into you – and so you eagerly let Artemis lead you over to the next pair of beasts. Isten and Yvette are sitting in their usual sullen silence, looking stubbornly away from each other like a pair of sulking children.

“They always were two halves of the same whole,” Artemis explains, “So any power you'd draw from them, you'd take it from both of them. As for what they have to offer you, it's a trace of their old skills – proper duelling, they'd call it. Showing off is what I'd call it.” She snorts derisively at that, causing Yvette to glance across and give you a foul look. Smiling faintly at her helpless anger, you turn and look to the newest beast – the mermaid.

If it was ugly before, when its back half was hidden beneath the surface of the lake, it's hideous now that you can see all of it. The creature's back is a sprawling mess of tendrils, slipping about and slapping against the ice. Amidst all that filth, you can see a withered pair of humanoid legs, atrophied and twitching. It's disgusting, largely because of how unnatural it is – a creature that was never meant to be.

“I don't know about that thing yet,” Artemis remarks, slowly flexing her fingers – her claws, “It's yet to give up its secrets. No matter, I'll get them in due time.”

It's almost enough for you to feel sorry for the thing.

“So, anything take your fancy?” she asks, “I can only offer you one thing right now. A girl needs to rest, you know!”

>Cripple's Strength – spend Focus to numb all pain or discomfort for a long time
>Tyrant's Might – spend Focus for a brief burst of incredible strength
>Glutton's Regrowth – spend Focus to regenerate light wounds, at the cost of growing briefly sluggish
>Furtive Veil – spend Focus and easily hide from sight for a long time
>Lunatic Visions – spend Focus to meditate on a situation and gain new answers
>Ancient Knowledge – learn the art of formal duelling. No Focus required
>Nothing

I'll give this twenty minutes before closing the vote. Thank you for your patience!
>>
>>1126758
lunatic visions seems interesting, but it might be dangerous.
>>
>>1126758
>Furtive Veil – spend Focus and easily hide from sight for a long time
Seems useful considering we stalk prey.
>>
>>1126758
>>Ancient Knowledge – learn the art of formal duelling. No Focus required
This or Divines gift thats missing from the list
>>
>>1126758
>Furtive Veil – spend Focus and easily hide from sight for a long time

We'll probably have to go against a human conspiracy, so I'd like us to have nonviolent means to achieve our goals.
>>
>>1126758
>>Furtive Veil – spend Focus and easily hide from sight for a long time
Dueling is more my style but it's not that much of a fit for Henryk. Plus this might get a neat reaction out of Artemis since we'll be sneaking around.
>>
>>1126758
>Ancient Knowledge – learn the art of formal duelling. No Focus required
>>
>Alright, I'll close the vote now. Looks like we're going with Furtive Veil for this time. Note, we are due a second upgrade as well, we'll have the chance to apply that soon.
>Writing the next post now, thanks for your patience!
>>
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>Take Ancient Knowledge
>Fuck up nobles at dueling clubs
>????
>Profit!
>>
>>1126822
Much as I think that would be hilarious Henryk never struck me as guy that would do something like that for money or bragging rights.
>>
>>1126844
true
>>
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There is a certain value, you decide, in not being seen. Whether it be man or beast, getting the chance to sneak up and land the first blow is undeniably valuable. With that thought in mind, you point across the barren wasteland and gesture to the Furtive Beast. That one, you tell Artemis, you'll take power from that one.

“That one?” she repeats, a faint distaste passing across her face, “Well, I suppose you might be right.” Shrugging to herself, she gestures for you to stay close and marches across the ice to your chosen victim. As you walk, she glances over her shoulder and explains a little more to you. “This won't make you invisible, you know,” Artemis tells you, “So don't think you can just walk up to people in the street and slap them. Hide in a crowd or take some other kind of cover, though, and the eye will just slide right off you.”

What if someone knows you're in the area, you ask, but can't see you directly?

“Well, they won't forget all about you, if that's what you're asking,” Artemis shakes her head, “But it'll make hiding from them that much easier. Get away from them, and you should be able to turn the tables.”

Hit and run, you muse, you can work with that.

“Yes, I suppose-” cutting her words short, Artemis lashes out and grabs the parasite, practically lunging on the thing, “Got you! Now then...” As the parasite squeals and writhes, she tightens her grip on it, slowly crushing down until the beast's filthy blood starts to drip through her fingers and puddle on the ice beneath her. Nonchalantly throwing the parasite aside – it sits for a moment, stunned, before scuttling away – Artemis reaches down and dabs her fingers in the blood. “Now stay still,” she warns you, “Don't move.”

Suddenly, you're having second thoughts about all this. Before you can make an objection, Artemis reaches up and presses her bloody fingers to your forehead. Hotter than you had been expecting, the blood tingles on your skin as it dries, sinking in and imparting a newfound power. Shuddering, you reach up and touch your forehead, but – as you expected – your fingers come away clean, without so much as a stain.

“Hey, it really worked!” Artemis claps her hands together, “How do you feel?”

You're not dead, you reply, that's always a good start.

“Yes it is,” nodding solemnly, the goddess turns back to the mermaid, “Now, I'm going to see what I can learn from our new friend here. We'll speak again soon, okay?”

>Return to the waking world
>Ask some last questions... (Write in)
>Speak with Isten or Yvette about... (Write in)
>Other
>>
>>1126888
>Return to the waking world
>>
>>1126888
>Ask some last questions... (Write in)
"You really spooked Uriah huh?"
>Return to the waking world
>>
>>1126888
Also thank her for pulling our ass out of the fire.
>>
>>1126888
>"You really spooked Uriah huh?"
>>
As Artemis is starting off towards the mermaid, you call her name to get her attention. She turns, tilting her head in that questioning way of hers. She really gave Uriah a scare, you remark simply, didn't she?

“I was perfectly polite!” she insists, “And if he said anything to the contrary, he's lying!”

Now you're really wondering just what she said to the poor bastard. Still, with a sigh and a weary smile, you accept her point. Either way, you add, you really do owe her your thanks. If she hadn't pulled a few strings, you would have been in some serious trouble.

“We're in this together, you and I,” Artemis tells you, an unusually serious note creeping into her voice, “We have to look out for each other. My influence here is somewhat limited, but there is nothing I wouldn't do to keep you alive. That, Henryk, I can promise you.”

And you can believe it. Nodding slowly, you close your eyes and fumble for that strange, nameless feeling that is leaving this place. When something begins to tug at your mind, you know that you've found what you were looking for. When you open your eyes once again, the waking world is there to meet you.

>Need to pause here and do a little preparation work, next post shouldn't be too delayed. Sorry about this.
>>
>>1126970

The rest of your self-imposed recuperation seems to pass quicker after that, after visiting Nihilo. The last days pass without any of the earlier tension, and you can appreciate the chance to laze about all day. Some of that tension returns when you hear a special report on the radio – warning of a food shortage, due to “unexpected health concerns” at the Tolnir cannery – but even that passes quickly enough.

Part of the reason for the change, perhaps, is the fact that you've thrown yourself into planning this little... ritual for Alyssia. The main part of it is simple enough – enough noise and fuss to stir the spirit into full wakefulness – but how exactly should you go about doing such a thing? The most discrete answer you can think of is also the most simple one. Bringing the totem out to the remote woods and trying to appease it there. Nobody else needs to get involved, or even to know about it.

A second thought strikes you not long after. Why not try hiding the ritual in plain sight, under the guise of a regular and wholesome party? Hide the totem somewhere nearby, and let the celebrating crowds work alongside you. You'd need a good excuse, though...

The answer to that particular question comes quickly, and you send Lize to fetch you a calender to check. In a few days, it'll be Iosefka's birthday – although you couldn't say how old she would be. A good reason to throw a party, you muse, and the Medicine would be a good place to hold it. Maybe it won't be quite as discrete as taking the totem out to the woods, but... it'll be a hell of a lot more fun.

Alyssia, you're fairly certain, would agree to either option, while Iosefka wouldn't need much convincing – it might even be a good earner for her.

>Perform the ritual in isolation, out in the woods
>Throw a party, hide the ritual in plain sight
>Other
>>
>>1127055
>Throw a party, hide the ritual in plain sight
>>
>>1127055
>Throw a party, hide the ritual in plain sight
Invite Vas and we'll have all the noise we'll need.
>>
>>1127055
>>Throw a party, hide the ritual in plain sight
This is fine, it might even lead to some FUN
>>
>>1127055
>Perform the ritual in isolation, out in the woods
Why risk it?
>>
>>1127055
>>Throw a party, hide the ritual in plain sight
I mentioned fireworks, but I'm not actually sure of a good excuse to frame it under.
>>
>>1127055
>>Throw a party, hide the ritual in plain sight
This is probably much easier to explain than if we were just found doing crazy shit in the woods at night.
>>
If we did throw the party, wouldn't we need to bring it to the Medicine? How we gonna do that?
>>
>>1127055
>Throw a party, hide the ritual in plain sight
Iosefka, Iosefka, help us, Iosefka!
>>
>>1127089
In a box, anon.
>>
>>1127089
Oh that's easy.

We bring it along with all the fireworks. When Iosefka tells us it's a terrible idea to use fireworks in a bar, we leave the whole thing to the side.

If for some reason fireworks are actually okay, well.....we have our noise.
>>
>>1127089

>To clarify, the totem is a little bulky, but still small enough to hide in a case. It could be hidden in with some other luggage or supplies, for example
>>
>>1127104
oh. Much smaller than I thought. Sounds all good then.
>>
>>1127089
Disguise it as a gift
>>
>>1127124
Then it could be accidentally given and we don't want that.
>>
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Maybe a party would be a little more risky, you consider, but there was no way of eliminating all risks from this. Even if you took the totem out to the woods and performed the rites under the moonlight, you couldn't be absolutely sure that someone wouldn't stumble across you. You'd look even more suspicious that way, almost exactly like the stereotype of witches and their rituals. Hiding the ritual in plain sight, it gives you a certain degree of denial – an excuse to use, should the Ministry pay you any attention.

But really, you're just rationalising it to yourself and ignoring the main reason. Frankly, you want to have a party – to cut loose and have a bit of fun. Why not? You've earned a little bit of time off, and you'll have a clean bill of health by then. If Vas is back in the Free States, you'll be sure to send him an invitation – he'll bring enough noise and fuss for a dozen rituals, if he's anything like his usual self.

You're starting to look forwards to this.

-

“Henryk,” Iosefka says, greeting you with a cool nod, “What can I do for you?”

It's more a case of what you can do for her, you begin, how about a party?

“A party?” leaning back and folding her arms, the barmaid studies you with a curious eye, “What's the occasion?”

For a moment, you're not sure if she's joking or not, but the blank look on her face is too convincing to be anything other than the real thing. It's her birthday soon, you remind her, and you thought she might like to do something to celebrate it. Could be good business as well, bringing in plenty of people to enjoy the festive atmosphere.

“Oh,” frowning softly, Iosefka takes a small diary from under the bar and flips forwards a few pages, “Good lord, you're right. It slipped my mind completely. I've been so busy lately, you see, and with one thing or another...” Flustered – a rare sight to see – she runs a hand through her hair and forces a smile. “Excuse me, let's start from the beginning. A party, here, for my birthday,” mulling over the idea, her smile grows easier and more natural, “Oh, why not? It might be fun, and I picked up a few new instruments I wanted to try out. This should give me the perfect excuse.”

Other than that first blip, an unwelcome reminder of what she has ahead of her, convincing Iosefka was even easier than you thought it might be. Sliding onto one of the barstools, you take a more casual tone. You've not seen Vas in a while, you ask, does she think he'll be able to show up?

“Doubtful, I'm afraid,” smiling ruefully, Iosefka smooths down her hair, “I got a letter from him not so long ago. He said that he was still busy up at Port Steyr. He's been up there so long, he's probably settled down and started a family!”

She laughs, but it's about as cheerful as a handful of broken glass.

[1/2]
>>
>>1127208

As you suspected, Alyssia has no particular objection to your new plan. When you describe it, in fact, she laughs aloud at the sheer audacity of it.

“I like it,” she admits, once the fit of laughter has passed, “It's not what I would have thought of, but I like it. I take it I'm invited to this little event – can I bring Hyde along? If he isn't working, of course, he said something about being busy lately, so...”

By all means invite him, you assure her, you wouldn't mind the chance to catch up a little as well. You've got a few things you wanted to discuss with Hyde. None of them though, you admit privately, are likely to put him in the mood for a party. Forcing a carefree smile, you nod to Alyssia. Invite as many people as she likes, you tell her, the more the merrier.

“I'll invite everyone I know,” she agrees, giving you a weak smile, “So, uh, that'll just be Hyde.”

Awkward.

-

The next few days leading up to the party are spent with making last minute preparation – procuring certain items, for example. With your latest pay burning a hole in your pocket, you're able to splash out a little. If you're going to do this “party” business, you're going to do it right. If you're going to do this ritual business at the same time, you're damn well going to do that right as well. That's why, when you return to the Medicine on the day of the party, you bring a few boxes with you. Just odds and ends, really.

Well, and a certain item of your own – the totem.

-

“Oh Henryk, I-” harried, distracted by an already busy bar, Iosefka only spares you a passing glance as you enter the bar, “Good lord, what do you have in there? Never mind, just put it somewhere out of the way, upstairs maybe. The door should be unlocked. Alright, wait your turn, the lot of you!” Shouting that last part, she turns her attention back to the customers. Shifting your burden a little, you head through to the back and hurry upstairs.

In the cool gloom of the Medicine's upper level, you set down the boxes and check on the totem, hidden under a spare sheet from your bed - just something to hide the thing from a passing eye, although even that might not be needed. Finding a particularly cluttered corner, you slip the box into its hiding place.

That's the first part of the plan over and done with. Now for the party itself.

>I'm going to pause here, I'm starting to lag a little. I'll continue this tomorrow, same time as usual
>Thanks to everyone who contributed today!
>>
>>1127298
Thanks for running
>>
>>1127298
Thanks for running!
>>
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The beer is cheap tonight, and the Medicine is busy. A surging, shifting crowd has filled the bar, countless voices raised and competing against one another to be heard. Every so often, a cheer will ring out or a short burst of some bawdy drinking song will pierce the background roar, but those are all fleeting things. The cheers pass quickly, while the songs die before the second verse – drunkards, you've noticed, never remember the second verse.

Through all the festivities, you see Iosefka shaking hands and accepting well wishes. She seems to know everyone, and everyone seems to know her – part of running a bar, you suppose. At the low stage Iosefka's silent assistant moves confidently between a set of exotic musical instruments, examining each on in turn and making minute adjustments to them. The last time you saw someone working with such obsessive care and attention, it had been as Saburakh cleaned his pistol.

It's a pleasant enough atmosphere, and on any other day you'd be happy to lose yourself in it, but today is different – you're too busy looking about, looking for any signs of abnormal activity. Nothing so far, but that doesn't come as a surprise – it's early yet, and the jug of mazka is still behind the bar, untouched. Plenty of time for that later.

A slightly too loud laugh, too loud and lively to be natural, draws your attention. Alyssia sits at the bar, her cheeks flushed with drink and her gestures sharp with tension. You're not sure if she's more nervous about this ritual or the party itself, but something has her on edge. She has something of an accent when she drinks, a roughness to her words that is normally smoothed out – you never noticed that before. Hyde sits opposite her, matching her exaggerated laughter with a more sedate chuckle of his own. Apparently, you missed whatever joke caused them both to laugh in the first place.

As his laughter fades, Hyde glances across the crowded bar and meets your eyes. One brief moment of wordless communication later and he's making his excuses, slipping through the crowd to join you.

“Henryk,” Hyde says as he reaches you, nodding firmly, “Good to see you again, although I'm not so sure about the circumstances. This isn't really my kind of scene.”

No, you agree, he seems more like the type to drink alone and at home.

“Well, I suppose I've earned that,” he winces, but Hyde seems to take the jab in otherwise good cheer, “Hey, can we talk outside? I don't like having to shout over this lot.”

Any reply you might have given him is cut off by another burst of raucous singing, so you simply nod instead.

[1/2]
>>
>>1132181

Going from the humid warmth of the Medicine, warmed by so many bodies in one place, to the cold outside air is like getting slapped across the face. It's almost painful, but it does a damn good job of clearing your head. The sky above is brilliantly clear, every star vividly standing out against the inky backdrop while the moon blazes out silver light. After Tolnir, with that constant haze of thick cloud and rain, it's a sight that you're all too happy to see. For a moment, the celebrations are forgotten as you lose yourself in the night sky.

It doesn't last, of course. Oblivious to the hold that the sky had on you, Hyde speaks up. “Eliza not here tonight? I suppose she's still a little young for this sort of thing,” speaking as much to himself as to you, Hyde continues, “How is she?”

She's doing good, you reply when you finally pull your gaze away from the sky, she's back at the apartment – probably listening to some of her terrible radio plays. Hyde laughs at that, his breath forming a faint cloud in the air. For the next few moments you both fall silent, content to listen to the noise drifting out from the Medicine, then Hyde shrugs.

“It's probably for the best,” he decides, “What about you, how was that “work” you had to do?”

You survived, you tell him, that's about the best thing you can say about it. There's not a whole lot else about it that you're eager to talk about.

“I told you, didn't I? The less you can say about it, the worse it always is,” nodding sagely, Hyde runs a hand over his scalp, “Well then, I won't press for details yet. Plenty of time for that later, when you're good and drunk.”

Laughing wearily, you shake your head and prepare to change the subject.

>I hear you patched things up with Alyssia
>You've had business lately, right? Anything interesting?
>I wanted to talk to you about Krebs. He... passed away down at Tolnir. I'm sorry to break the news like this
>Other
>>
>>1132182
>I hear you patched things up with Alyssia
>You've had business lately, right? Anything interesting?
>Tell him the full story about Krebs, even if he wont believe you.
>>
>>1132182
>>I wanted to talk to you about Krebs. He... passed away down at Tolnir. I'm sorry to break the news like this
>>
>>1132182
>I hear you patched things up with Alyssia
>You've had business lately, right? Anything interesting?
>I wanted to talk to you about Krebs. He... passed away down at Tolnir. I'm sorry to break the news like this
>>
>>1132182
>>I hear you patched things up with Alyssia
Finally made it up those steps.

>Tell him about Krebs.
>>
You heard about him and Alyssia, you begin, they patched things up didn't they?

“Yeah, not that long after we last saw each other. It wasn't all that bad,” shrugging, Hyde waits for a small group of bellowing drunks to pass by before continuing. “Problems like that, you've just got to pull your head out of your arse and look at them properly,” his voice takes on a philosophical tone here, as if he was some sage dispensing ancient wisdom, “It's just taking those first few steps that's the hard part.”

Wise words, you point out, for a man who needed to scrape together his courage to climb a set of stairs.

“Well, yes,” he admits, his voice taking on a faintly defensive note, “But I did make it up those stairs in the end!”

Something about the situation, perhaps the absurd seriousness with which you're discussing it, causes you to chuckle. Hyde joins you after a moment, and the pair of you laugh like schoolboys sharing a vulgar joke. When your amusement subsides, you move on. It's the thought of Krebs that kills your laughter, but you push those thoughts to the back of your mind for now. It's... not something you can just launch right into, not yet. Instead, you ask about business. He had a job recently, you ask, was it anything interesting?

“Ah, now you're assuming that it's something I can talk about,” Hyde holds up a finger to warn you, “Ugh, who am I kidding? The only reason I'd have to avoid talking about it is how bloody embarrassing the whole thing was. It all started with a rich landowner. You know the type – not nobility, but they wish they were. Apparently, some beast had been ransacking his garden and he wanted it dead.”

Wait, you ask incredulously, his garden?

“Yeah, tearing up the flowers and making an awful mess. I tried to tell him that it's not really Hunter business, but he wasn't having any of it,” a faint look of disgust passes across Hyde's face, matched by weary amusement, “So, luckless bastard that I am, I settled in at night to keep an eye out. Guess what I found – really, take a guess.”

Something incredibly stupid, you guess, a giant... rabbit?

“I would have preferred that. A rabbit, I could have skinned and sold the pelt,” sighing, Hyde tugs at his beard, “Kids, bloody kids. A bunch of local children who thought it was hilarious to mess about with the rich idiot. Can't exactly say I blame them, mind you. Well, long story short, I gave them the fright of their life and sent them on their way. That was the end of the whole bloody mess. What a farce!”

Wow, you reply after an astonished pause, that really does sound like a farce.

“Ah, the pay was good,” shrugging, Hyde dismisses the issue, “Can't complain too much, I suppose.”

Nodding slowly, you realise that it's now or never. Enough small talk, it's time to break the bad news.

[1/2]
>>
>>1132227

You had something you wanted to talk to him about, you begin carefully, something important. Gesturing for him to follow you, you lead Hyde a little away from the Medicine. In the relative peace and quiet, you search for the right words to continue. Favouring the direct approach, you look Hyde in the eye and speak. It's about Krebs, you tell him in a low voice, and it's not good news.

“Krebs...” muscles bunch in Hyde's jaw as his body tenses up, “Alright, let's hear it.”

You were down in Tolnir, you begin, and that's where you learned what happened. Krebs, he... passed away there. You hate to break the news this way, you add, but you're sorry for his loss.

“How did it happen?” Hyde looks away, his voice so low that you can barely hear him, “I want to know everything.”

He might not believe you, you warn him.

“That's for me to decide,” looking back to you, Hyde looks you straight in the eye, “Tell me how it happened, every detail.”

Silence for a moment, and then you nod. If that's what he wants, you say quietly, you'll tell him everything you know.

-

Taking a deep breath to put your thoughts in order, you lay out everything about Krebs and his strange downfall – about Schreiber, Old Grey and Uriah. At some point – you couldn't say exactly when – you slip into a flat, officious style of speech. Just the facts, with nothing to colour them or distract from the truth. Impassive, other than that tight bunch of tension in his jaw, Hyde listens to every word, as if carving the story into his mind. When you finish your story, it takes him a long time to say anything.

“Thank you, Henryk,” he sighs, “I can certainly see how someone might not believe that. I do believe you, though – if you were going to lie, it would be to give me a more comforting story.”

Or a believable one, you mutter.

“Come on, let's get back,” turning away from you, Hyde waves for you to follow him, “That weird girl looked like she was about to start playing something, I don't want to miss all of the show.” Then, without waiting for a reply, he sets off back towards the Medicine, leaving you to blink in slow confusion. Shaking off your surprise, you hurry to catch up with the man.

>You're right, let's not miss the party
>Are you really okay?
>You don''t blame Uriah for everything that happened?
>You did everything you could, you know. Neither of us could have changed what happened
>Other
>>
>>1127208
> She laughs, but it's about as cheerful as a handful of broken glass.

Aw. She's kind of fucked for close relationships lately huh.
>>
>>1132270

>You're right, let's not miss the party
>>
>>1132270
>Other

Despite what happened to him, Krebs got to go out with some dignity still. His body might have changed, but some of HIM was left. He didn't hurt anyone,didn't become a beast.

Tough old bastard. Let's have a drink to him, and to a death that is about as good as a Hunter can hope for and not as bad as they fear.
>>
>>1132270
>You're right, let's not miss the party
>>
>>1132270
>Despite what happened to him, Krebs got to go out with some dignity still. His body might have changed, but some of HIM was left. He didn't hurt anyone,didn't become a beast.
>Tough old bastard. Let's have a drink to him, and to a death that is about as good as a Hunter can hope for and not as bad as they fear.
>>
>>1132270
>>You're right, let's not miss the party
I think staying quiet is fine.
>>
>>1132270
>You did everything you could, you know. Neither of us could have changed what happened
>>
Hurrying to his side, you put a hand on Hyde's arm to stop him from going any further. Wait, you tell him quietly, just wait a minute.

“Henryk...” Hyde begins, a faint note of warning in his voice. Before he can continue, you cut him off.

Despite what happened to him, you continue, Krebs was able to go out with dignity. There was still some of him left at the end, even after his body had changed. He didn't hurt anyone, not by choice. What did happen... neither of you could have changed any of it. Hyde did all he could, and so did Krebs. He was a tough old bastard, and you're going to raise a drink to his name – to a death that's as good as any Hunter might hope for, and not as bad as they fear.

There's a short pause as Hyde considers your words, then he slaps you on the shoulder. “Well said!” he decides, “And do you know something? I think I'll join you for that drink. We'll honour his memory in the old way, with drinking songs and tall tales!”

Damn right, you agree with a grin, now let's get back – you don't want to miss the rest of the party.

-

Iosefka's silent assistant has started playing by the time you've returned, her fingers dancing across the keys of a piano as she teases a melody from it. Judging by the other movement on stage – a few new faces setting up instruments of their own – this is only an introduction, with the main event yet to begin. Hyde splits off from you as you enter, moving across to murmur something in Alyssia's ear. Whatever it is, it sets her off in a new rush of giggles.

“I thought you'd gone and run off,” Iosefka says coyly as she slips through the crowd to meet you, “Gone off and left me all on my own.”

Hardly on her own, you point out, she's got a fair crowd here for her.

“It's a flattering thought, but I'm afraid they're not here for me. People these days, they want any excuse for a celebration – lord knows they need it, with all these food shortages the radio keeps threatening...” sighing, Iosefka toys with her ponytail, “Ah, do forgive me – this is hardly the time for talk of such things. Let me fetch you a drink, we might as well do this properly. Sit tight!”

And before you can say anything else, she turns and hurries away. That seems to be happening a lot tonight.

-

“And so, I'd like to raise a glass to all those who couldn't be here tonight!” Hyde announces loudly, swaying slightly on the spot as he raises his glass high, “To absent friends!”

“To absent friends!” the crowd roars back, countless glasses thrust into the air at the old toast.

“And-” Hyde continues, but the sound of the door banging open cuts his speech short. Standing there, his hands planted on his hips and his eyes twinkling, the new arrival strides into the Medicine.

“Well well,” Iosefka murmurs, her voice reaching you through the sudden silence, “Look what the cat dragged in...”

[1/2]
>>
>>1132376
Vas?
>>
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>>1132376
>Standing there, his hands planted on his hips and his eyes twinkling, the new arrival strides into the Medicine.
>>
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>>1132376

You'll say this about Vas – he certainly knows how to make an entrance.

“You said you couldn't make it,” Iosefka snaps at him, prodding him in the chest with an accusing finger, “You SAID you were busy!”

“I had to,” he replies with an insolent shrug, “It wouldn't have been a surprise, otherwise. Honestly, if only you could have seen the look on your face – that alone was worth the trip down here!”

“I ought to throw you out of my bar,” she mutters, frowning and fighting back a broad smile, “You wouldn't look so cocky then, would you?”

Actually, you point out, he probably would.

“Here is a man who speaks the truth!” Vas declares, punching you on the shoulder, “Henryk, damn good to see you again. Is that the ghost of a tan, I see? I'm sure there's a fine explanation for that – you'll have to give me the details later!”

“I'll leave you boys to it,” finally allowing herself a smile – albeit a prim and restrained one – Iosefka starts to leave, “I have some preparations to make, don't destroy anything while I'm away.”

“We would never!” Vas stresses, his words devoid of all sincerity.

-

Vas turned out to be the missing element, the last piece that needed to be in place for the celebrations to truly blossom. With the liquor flowing freely and the crowd surging with new life, it's easy to lose yourself in the festivities. The makeshift band has shifted to a lively tune, something fast paced and bursting with energy. Iosefka leads it with a fiddle, while Alyssia pounds away at a drum with rather more enthusiasm than talent. People dance with wild abandon, and the crash of heavy footfalls adds a more primal beat to the song.

You've taken mazka, and the world seems to spin around you, lapsing in and out of any rational sense or order. More than once, you join a knot of your fellow men in singing a bawdy tune, but you never get past the first verse. Do these sorts of songs even HAVE second verses?

As you split away from one of those impromptu groups, you see a flash of colour – bright yellow, brilliant against the muted hues that make up the other outfits on display. It's a passing glance, something you see in the corner of your eye, but it's enough to send a chill running down your spine. It's a feeling that you can't properly describe, but you can't mistake it for anything else either – it's the sense of brushing up against something otherworldly, something inhuman.

The ritual, it seems, is working.

[2/3]
>>
>>1132470
I sure hope the spirit won't ask for a fishing rod.
>>
>>1132470

You're not the only one to have noticed something. Alyssia is looking around the room, her eyes wide and wild. When you meet her gaze and give her a faint nod – confirming to her that yes, you've felt it too – she calms somewhat, returning her attention to beating out something close to a rhythm on her drum. It's sloppy, but that's to be expected. What you didn't expect to hear was an ugly jangle of piano notes, Iosefka's assistant stumbling in the middle of a passage.

Does she feel it too?

As that question drifts through your drunken mind, something brushes past you with a whisper of fabric. You turn, but there's nothing there – if there was something there in the first place, it's moved on now. When you look back to the stage, you finally see sitting there, bobbing its head and swaying to the music. Hartmann's spirit – a human figure, childish and diminutive, with flowing yellow silks gathered around it. Much of its face is covered, leaving only the mouth and chin visible. You can't see its eyes, and some nameless instinct inside of you is very glad of that fact.

Then Iosefka twirls past, her skirt flaring out, and the spirit is gone – vanished.

“Revelle,” a voice, sharp and clear, sinks into your mind, “My name is Revelle. You are the one who called out to me, are you not?”

That's right, you murmur, maybe. You're not sure how all this stuff really works.

“Don't think too hard about any of it!” Revelle giggles, laughing in a way that reminds you of Artemis, “Just enjoy the celebrations! I protect those who give themselves up to this wild dance that men call life, so why not savour it? You DO want protection... don't you?” The crowd parts for a moment, and you see the spirit again – white teeth grinning against dark skin.

>What do you want in return?
>You can protect me from other spirits, even from the northern gods?
>Just me, or can you protect any others?
>Let me ask you this... (Write in)
>Other
>>
>>1132562
>What do you want in return?
>>Just me, or can you protect any others?
She seems friendly.
>>
>>1132562
>You can protect me from other spirits, even from the northern gods?
>Just me, or can you protect any others?
>What do you want in return?
>Let me ask you this... (Write in)
"It's okay if I have this bird on my shoulder as well as your protection?"
>>
>>1132562
>What do you want in return?
>You can protect me from other spirits, even from the northern gods?
>Just me, or can you protect any others?
>>
>>1132562
>>Just me, or can you protect any others?
>>What do you want in return?
Probably ask in a polite way. Maybe mention that we're more used to the Northern traditions, so it doesn't seem offensive to her.
>>
That depends, you hear yourself reply, what does she want in return? Your voice, like all other sounds save for her voice, seems to come from a great distance away – from the bottom of a deep, deep well perhaps. You could be shouting or you could be whispering, the difference feels utterly insignificant in this... state.

“Huh?” Revelle draws the query out for a long time, long enough that it stops being a word and becomes something more akin to a sigh, “What do I want? I want THIS, what you've already given me – what more could I want?” Another laugh, and the gap in the crowd closes. When another one opens up over by the bar, Revelle is sitting upon the old wood, her legs kicking merrily back and forth. “You're strange,” she announces, “What do I want in return... I've never been asked that before!”

You're more used to the northern traditions, you explain, they have different ways up here. If you caused an offence...

“I've never had anyone apologise like that either, you really are strange!” the spirit climbs up to stand on the bar, her silks parting for a moment to reveal more of that tanned flesh, “That's it, I've made up my mind – I'm going to protect you whether you like or not, so I can see what other strange things you're going to do!”

...This is quite possibly the strangest negotiation you've ever experienced. Can she protect you from other spirits, you ask, even from the northern gods?

“Oh, you think I can't do it, huh? You wanna make a bet on that?” Revelle shakes her fist at you, “I'm the best there is, the strongest! I'll keep you safe no matter who tries to push you around – that's how we do things in the south, we look after our own!”

Okay okay, you reply with a laugh – at least, you think you laugh. What about other people, you add, can she protect them as well?

“I GUESS so,” thrusting her balled fists against her hips, Revelle almost mirrors Vas' earlier pose as she thinks. Then, with a sudden explosion of motion, she waves her arms in a high arc, “I bet I could protect everyone in this room if I wanted to – it's been so long since I've felt so awake, so alive and powerful! I told you before, didn't I? I feel STRONG!”

And she acts, you think, like a child who has eaten too much sugar. Well, let her have her fun – she's just getting into the party spirit, no pun intended. There's just one thing, you ask, one last issue – she doesn't mind if you've got a little bird on your shoulder as well, does she?

“Oooh, it looks MEAN,” Revelle coos, “Hello birdie, you've got a little blood dripping from your beak!” The spirit's laughter rings in your mind for a few moments more as Revelle vanishes once again. “I don't mind, the more the merrier,” her unseen voice continues, “But it looks like the jealous type to me. You don't want to have too many girls on the go at once, mister – that'll get you in trouble!”

[1/2]
>>
>>1132562
>Just me, or can you protect any others?
>What do you want in return?
>>
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12 KB JPG
>>1132622
brown Cirno protective spirit
>>
>>1132622
>>1132636

Because we might try to fuck it?

Also, Artemis could probably use a friend, so let's ask if she can be friends with her. Artemis has had a trying life and could use some merriment and revelry.

Just because Artemis IS a thing of the wild and the hunt, doesn't mean that's all she has to be.

I've come to the realization that I would like us to be a Father figure for Artemis. She's not gotten out much.
>>
>>1132622
>>
>>1132622
>Cirno/Moh Shuvuu Spirit

This'll be fun.
>>
>>1132622

She's not so bad really, you assure the spirit, they're not all that different in many ways – they both love what they do, with the same boundless enthusiasm. It's just that one of them enjoys parties, you think to yourself, and the other years for slaughter. It's really not that big of a difference.

“Hmm, I don't know...” the spirit's voice hums, “I like making friends and all, but you gotta be careful with animals. They can bite!”

But they can learn not to, you point out, it just takes a little time and trust.

“Hey, maybe you're right. It's sitting right there, and it's not bitten your ear off yet. You know, maybe you're onto something there... Well, I don't know, we'll see. You want to speak to me again, friend, you just take a drink of the nectar,” Revelle murmurs, the trailing sleeve of her silks brushing up against your back, “You've got my attention now, I'll be right here. You tell me what you want kept safe, and I'll do it. There's just one little tiny thing I want in return...”

And here it is, you think, the catch. What you've been expecting from the start of all this.

“I might not be around forever, you know, especially if you don't keep me amused. You work me too hard, you'd better find a way of making it up to me,” the voice takes on a note of warning, although it does rather feel like you're being scolded by a child, “And if you want to make it up to me, you'll have to-”

Throw a party, you guess, make a lot of noise and fuss?

“Huh?” another one of those drawn out yawns of surprise, “How did you guess?”

Just a hunch, you reply with a shrug, that's-

“What kind of hunch?” a gruff voice asks, accompanied by a heavy hand falling on your shoulder. The ethereal moment shatters like glass, and all sound rushes back to you. The veil that the mazka draped over your mind falls away, and the world returns to rational order.

“Talking to yourself,” Vas tells you with a roguish smile, “That's the first sign of trouble, right there. I'm taking you to the doctor, get some good medicine in you as soon as possible.”

-

The good medicine, of course, is more beer. You'd barely noticed the last song ending and Iosefka returning to the bar, but there she is – serving drinks like it was a regular evening. The only difference is the jewellery she wears around her neck, all manner of shapes and charm all carved out of whale bone. A gift from Vas, she announced proudly as she set a pair of drinks in front of you. Before she could say anything more, duty called and she hurried away to the next customers.

“About time we got properly caught up,” Vas tells you, sipping his drink, “You look like a man with plenty of stories to tell.”

[2/3]
>>
>>1132687
That necklace and the assistant seem suspicious.
>>
>>1132697
Suspicious how?
>>
>>1132697
The assistant is probably from the south or something. Or maybe being mute makes you more spiritual or something.

The necklace just seems like what it is: a gift from Vas. The guy that kills whales giving whale bones.
>>
>>1132687

There's not all that much to tell, you reply with a cautious shrug, you had a little business down in the southern colonies – since you were down there already, you made a holiday of it. Between meeting new people and taking in the sights, you got a pretty good tan. You got all kinds of grief when you got back, you add, as if folks here had never seen a case of sunburn before.

“Business, huh?” Vas toys with his glass, “Never heard of a Hunter being sent all that way. What sort of beasts do they have down in the south anyway? I can't imagine they get many whales, that's for sure!”

Plenty of beasts, but definitely no whales. As for the types of beasts... same sorts they have up north really, you reply with a shrug, you saw a magnificent nest of vipers once. The mention of snakes causes Vas to shudder, just as you thought it would. He hasn't changed a bit.

“Well anyway,” with a somewhat brusque tone in his voice, Vas changes the subject, “I can't say I've been doing much in the way of exciting business either. Good business, sure, but nothing exciting. Might have to see about changing that soon.”

He was making maps, you recall, wasn't he?

“Aye, but more like steering the ship about while someone else does the hard work. Vital work, they say, but it was driving me into an early grave. I want something grand, something to capture the spirit of adventure! I've got the Ghoul now, so I might take it down south and try my luck there,” taking a swallow of beer, Vas shrugs, “Well, I'm going to be spending a while in the Free States regardless. It's been a while, I've missed the place.” His gaze slips away from you, wandering across the bar to settle on Iosefka.

>I might have some business in the north soon, I could use a ship
>How are things in Port Steyr?
>I saw that necklace you gave Iosefka. Pretty interesting
>Got a question for you... (Write in)
>Other
>>
>>1132759
>I saw that necklace you gave Iosefka. Pretty interesting
"When's the wedding?"

>How are things in Port Steyr?
>I might have some business in the north soon, I could use a ship
>>
>>1132770
Supporting
>>
>>1132759
>>I might have some business in the north soon, I could use a ship
>>I saw that necklace you gave Iosefka. Pretty interesting
I always wondered what we'd do about a ship when we had to go north eventually, Vas a good man and probably our best bet.
>>
>>1132759
>>How are things in Port Steyr?
>>
>>1132759
>I might have some business in the north soon, I could use a ship
>How are things in Port Steyr?
>I saw that necklace you gave Iosefka. Pretty interesting
>>
You might have some business up in the north soon, you begin, and you could definitely use a ship – and a captain you can trust. It's early days yet, you don't want to go into too much detail now, but it might be the sort of thing that he's interested in. It would certainly satisfy his appetite for excitement though, you can promise that much.

“Oh, mysterious,” Vas raises an eyebrow, returning his gaze to you with something close to reluctance, “You certainly know how to get an old man interested. I'll tell you what, I'll drop you a note when I'm ready to head back to Port Steyr, you can always come and meet me there, discuss the fine details. I'll be stuck there for a while anyway, got plenty of affairs to put in order – and not those kinds of affairs, before you say anything!”

The thought never even crossed your mind, you assure him. Speaking of Port Steyr, though, you were wondering – what are things like up there?

“Last time I looked, they were starting to settle down a little. It was pretty rough back after Tyrant - lots of soldiers looking for a home, and that wasn't even counting the northerners. Seemed like every bloody savage in the north was roaming about, and I never knew which of them was going to stick a knife in my back,” Vas shudders at the memory, “Absolute bloody chaos back then. It's better now, they're setting up housing – temporary crap, mind you – in Tyrant to house the natives. Still don't have a name for the place, now I think about it.”

How's the Ministry coping, you ask, do they have enough staff?

“Funny thing about that, actually. I got talking to a Ministry clerk once, when it was bad, and he was complaining about his old boss being missing. She showed up again, and that's when things started to shape up,” laughing, Vas finishes off his drink, “Scary bitch. Still got a long way to go, but things are looking up. Might actually be something approaching civilisation there when you get there.”

A little bit of civilisation, you admit, would be pretty nice.

“And one cornerstone of civilisation is alcohol,” Vas states firmly, raising his hand to call Iosefka over, “Two more beers over here!”

-

As Iosefka delivers the fresh glasses of beer, you take another look at her necklace. Not just shapes, you note, but carven shapes – strange symbols etched into the bones. She leaves again before you can get a proper look, but one thing is certain – it's no ordinary piece of jewellery. Hey, you tell Vas, you saw the gift he gave Iosefka. Pretty interesting, you add, how did he find it?

“Actually,” Vas leans in closer and lowers his voice, “There's a funny story there...”

There always is, with him.

[1/2]
>>
>>1132930
>“Funny thing about that, actually. I got talking to a Ministry clerk once, when it was bad, and he was complaining about his old boss being missing. She showed up again, and that's when things started to shape up,” laughing, Vas finishes off his drink, “Scary bitch.
Hah
>>
>>1132930

“So, I don't know a whole lot about the damn thing, but I can guess,” Vas glances across to Iosefka, “It's pretty old, for one thing. The bones are all worn down around the edges, you don't get kind of erosion with anything other than age. So, it's old. Also, I've never seen another thing like it. I've seen similar sorts of crap, talismans and charms, but never anything quite so ornate. So, it might be unique. Two things that caught my eye.”

Must have been expensive, you muse, something like that.

“You would think,” a wide smile spreads across Vas' face as he drops his voice to a hoarse whisper, “It was cheap, I bought it off a drunken soldier. You know where he got it? Port Tyrant, while you were busy doing your thing.”

A looter, you state flatly, he bought it off a looter. No wonder he got such a good price.

“Hey, come on,” leaning back, Vas spreads his hands wide in a helpless gesture, “I would have happily paid a small fortune for it, but I wasn't about to let a golden opportunity pass me up. And hey, look at it this way – I find this treasure, like nothing I've ever seen before, and do I do? I could have sold it to the College, to a private collector... I could have made a fortune. Didn't though, did I? I gave it to that old Snake.”

He certainly did, you admit, very generous of him. So, you ask with a wicked smile, when's the wedding?

“Nice joke, Henryk, but we almost-” he pauses, cutting his words short, “Okay, yeah, I've had enough to drink. You stay there, I need to go out and get some fresh air!”

Hold on a minute, you protest, he can't just say something like that and walk off!

“Watch me!” Vas laughs, swaying as he pushes through the crowd towards the front door. You rise to follow him, but your legs don't seem to work properly – as soon as you've risen, you find yourself slumping back down onto the barstool.

“It's ancient history,” Iosefka remarks drily, a mysterious smile playing around her lips, “I wouldn't worry too much about it. Another drink?”

Why not, you reply with a weary smile, it IS a party after all.

>I'm going to pause things here. I'll pick things up on Tuesday, and I'll stick around in case of any comments or questions
>Thanks to everyone who contributed today!
>>
>>1133044
Thanks for running.

I can't really place my finger on those two's relationship. Seems like a tangled history.
>>
>>1133044
Thanks for running!

We need to show that necklace to Alyssia, just in case. Also we need to report to Hartmann with the experiment's results. We had promised.
>>
>>1133044
Alessa REALLY needs to look at that necklace.
>>
>>1133044
Thanks for running!
>>
so uh...who's Hartmann again?
>>
>>1133477
Guy that gave us the totem. Met him during the south and chasing Yvette arc, I think.
>>
>>1133493
ah, okay now I get the sentence better.

For a moment there, I thought someone we already talked to turned out to be a spirit.
>>
>>1133044
Thursday?
>>
>>1133968
>Tuesday
Tuesday anon
>>
>>1133989
It's never been tuesday, despite moloch saying so.
>>
You're dying. No, wait, you're already dead. You're dead, and this is whatever hell awaits men like you.

That's how it feels, at least. For fear of what you might see, you put off opening your eyes for as long as possible. When you can delay no longer, you groan softly and crack one eye open – only to shut it again as a dagger of blinding light burns its way into the meat of your brain. Someone, some villain of unmatched evil, has moved the entire sun into your bedroom. How else could you explain that hideous searing light?

“Oh come on, it's not that bad,” a faint voice jeers, dancing about at the edge of your perceptions, “The light isn't even on. You just gotta man up and take the plunge. And don't even pretend to be asleep, I saw you open your eye!”

If this is hell, you reason, that must be one of the devils sent to torture you. Certainly, their words screech in your ears like rusty saws. Once again taking your life in your hands, you force your eyes open and peer through the hazy veil before you. It takes a moment, but soon the vague shape before you resolves into a form that you recognise. Sitting at the foot of your bed, something about her posture reminding you of a cat, Lize watches you as you stir.

How long, you rasp, has she been sitting there watching you?

“Uh...” Lize shifts awkwardly, “Do you really want an answer to that?”

No, you reply after a long pause, probably not.

-

“So I don't know what you were doing last night...” Lize pauses, correcting herself, “...And this morning, but it must have been something special. Hyde dropped you here, and you kept ranting about this and that.”

Huh, you grunt as you force down a cup of burnt tasting tea, what were you saying?

“Something about a necklace, for one thing. You were very specific about a necklace being involved, and how Alyssia should get the chance to examine it. You're not planning on stealing any jewellery, are you?” yawning, Lize prods at the pan of sizzling meat she's cooking. More or less cooking. “Oh right, and you said that you had some notes to write, notes for someone named... Hartmann, I think?” laughing to herself, Lize takes the pan off the heat and brings it over, dropping the blackened carcass onto your plate, “Sounds like you've got plenty of homework!”

Groaning, you close your eyes and try to ignore the smell of burnt flesh – it reminds you of Uriah a little too much. Did you have a box with you, you ask, a box with a sheet in it?

“Uh, nope. No boxes at all,” shaking her head, Lize gives you a funny look, “Oh yeah, you had some stuff with you when you left. I guess it must still be at the bar.”

The totem. You need to find it before anyone else does. Rising to your feet, you grab your coat and start for the door.

“Wait!” Lize calls after you, “What about your breakfast?”

[1/2]
>>
>>1140037

The Medicine looks, quite simply, like the aftermath of some disastrous war. That's no exaggeration, the closest comparison you can draw is Port Tyrant, in the hours after the fighting had drawn to a close. There's that same hollow feeling, deflated and empty. There are, admittedly, less dead bodies scattered about, but that seems like a relatively minor difference in the long run.

Inside, your eye immediately falls upon Iosefka – or rather, at the whale bone necklace she wears. Sitting at the bar, smoking a long and slender pipe, she raises an eyebrow at the sight of you.

“Well well,” she muses, “I'm surprised to see you upright, after everything that happened last night. I really must thank you, by the way – I don't think I've had quite so much fun in a long time.”

Everything that happened... the way she says that sets alarm bells ringing in the back of your mind. Swallowing hard, you try to hasten the conversation along. You might have left something here last night, you begin, it was-

“A woman, sort of scruffy looking and can't handle her drink? She's sleeping upstairs,” Iosefka points through to the back, “She's your neighbour, isn't she? Do me a favour and make sure she gets home okay – she passed out here, and moving her was just too much trouble at the time.”

Huh, so that's what happened to Alyssia.

“Anyway, the bar's not open yet,” Iosefka waves a hand at the otherwise empty room, “So if you're not here for a drink, what can I do for you?”

>I didn't do anything too foolish last night, did I?
>I must have left something else here last night. Mind if I check upstairs?
>Would you mind letting Alyssia take a look at that necklace?
>So are you ever going to tell me about you and Vas?
>I had a question for you... (Write in)
>Other
>>
>>1140038
>I'm fairly certain I did a couple foolish things last night.
>So are you ever going to tell me about you and Vas?
one thing at a time, the necklace can wait for....well, a not hungover white witch.
>>
>>1140038
>I must have left something else here last night. Mind if I check upstairs?
>Would you mind letting Alyssia take a look at that necklace?
>So are you ever going to tell me about you and Vas?
>>
>>1140038
>I'm fairly certain I did a couple foolish things last night.
>I must have left something else here last night. Mind if I check upstairs?
>>
>>1140038
>>I'm fairly certain I did a couple foolish things last night.
>>So are you ever going to tell me about you and Vas?
>>
>>1140038
>I didn't do anything too foolish last night, did I?
>So are you ever going to tell me about you and Vas?
>>
>>1140039
Yeah but they are both right here. Might as well have her give it a once over hangover or no.
>>
You're fairly certain that you did some foolish things last night, you being ruefully, was it bad?

“Oh, you were fine,” Iosefka assures you, “You've got nothing to worry about.”

Well then, you sigh with relief, that's-

“You just stood up on the bar and proclaimed that you were the greatest Wolf who had ever been, or would ever be,” smiling sweetly, Iosefka puffs away on her pipe for a moment, “That's all.”

That...

“Was a joke, yes,” laughing at what must surely be the mortified look on your face, Iosfeka waves your concerns away, “Really, the only thing that comes to mind is that Vas said you were mumbling to yourself at one point. Staring off into space and mumbling. He didn't overhear anything, mind you, so if you were saying anything embarrassing... well, those secrets will remain secret.”

Perhaps you sigh in relief at that, because Iosefka laughs again. Before she can think of something else to tease you about, you press ahead with one of the reasons you came. That necklace of hers, you say as you point to it, would she mind if Alyssia took a look at it? She's something of an amateur historian, so it's exactly the sort she might like to look at.

“Now you mention it, she did seem interested in it,” frowning softly, Iosefka toys with the carven bones, “Although by that point, she wasn't making much sense. I don't know if she's awake or not by now, but...” Sighing, Iosefka takes her necklace off and carefully places it down on the bar. “I'd rather not let it leave the building, if you don't mind,” she adds primly, “It was a gift, after all, I'd be terribly ashamed of myself if it got lost.”

A gift from Vas, you correct her, right?

“If you like,” the former doctor acknowledges, nodding slowly.

So is ever going to tell you, you ask, about what there is between the two of them?

Studying you through languid eyes, Iosefka considers her answer. “Hmm...” she muses, “No.”

That's rather more blunt than you'd been expecting.

“Fine, let me put it this way,” setting down her pipe, Iosefka holds her fingers up in the air, spaced evenly apart, “When I was at the College, I saw an experiment. A game, really. Two metal rods, with some kind of electrical charge. Bring them close together, and they made rather lovely sparks.” As she says this, Iosefka moves her fingers close to demonstrate. “Very nice sight. Touch them together, though, and both rods can blow apart. Take your eyes right out, if you're not careful,” smiling sadly, she claps her hands together and mimes an explosion, “Simple enough?”

It's enough to keep you from asking any more questions, which is exactly what she was aiming for. Clearing your throat, you gesture to the back of the bar. You must have left something else here, you ask, would she mind if you had a look around?

“Feel free,” she says, nodding towards the door.

[1/2]
>>
>>1140058

Upstairs, you hasten to the corner where you hid the totem, sighing in relief when you find it exactly where you left it. The sheet you used to cover it up is undisturbed, which only improves your mood. As you're closing the box, a groan from one of the other rooms catches your attention. Following the source of it, you push open an ajar door and look inside. Sprawled out on a patch of bare floor – thankfully still dressed in last night's clothes – Alyssia looks around and tries to focus on you.

“What time is it?” she rasps, “Wait, no, I don't care. Where am I?”

It's the Medicine, you tell her patiently, she passed out here last night. Probably this morning, to be more accurate, but that's just splitting hairs. Is she going to be okay?

“Sure, I'll be fine,” sitting slowly upright, Alyssia presses a hand to her forehead, “Just make the room stop spinning, would you? Wait, Henryk, there was something I meant to ask. Uh, what was it?” First squinting and then looking at you with wide, started eyes, the witch blurts out a new question. “Did it work?” she asks, “I remember... something happening. Did it really work?”

It worked. In fact, you assure her, it worked better than you'd been expecting. You'll explain later, once you've got the details sorted out in your own mind – some of it is still a little blurry, and you don't know whether to blame the drink or contact with a supernatural being. Probably both, now you think about it. In either case, there was something else you wanted to ask her about – that necklace of Iosefka's...

“Huh? Oh!” Alyssia snaps her fingers and then immediately looks as though she regretted it, “I recognised some of the symbols carved into it, they were very old. Not something you see very often.” Having said this, she falls into a thoughtful silence.

So, you press after a moment, can she tell you anything about them?

“Well, no,” the witch admits, “I'll need to consult my notes to be certain. Have you spoken to Iosefka about it? I... vaguely recall trying to get a closer look last night, or... something like that.”

She can look, you explain, but she can't take it back. Better take notes now and do her research later.

“Hmm, I can do that. The symbols were simple enough that I could copy them down, and...” Alyssia's words are cut off by another low groan, “And look them up later, when I don't feel like I'm about to drop dead.”

Laughing quietly to yourself, you leave Alyssia to rest and head back to the totem. When you reach it, however, the laughter dies in your throat. Standing over the box, with the sheet pushed carelessly aside, you see Iosefka's curious young assistant.

A little too curious, apparently.

>There's nothing for you in there, now go away
>Something you recognise?
>There's a perfectly reasonable explanation for this... (Write in)
>Other

>Sorry for the delay
>>
>>1140088
>>Something you recognise?
>>
>>1140088
>>Something you recognise?
>>
>>1140088
>>Something you recognise?
>>
>>1140088
>Something you recognise?
>You missed a note yesterday.
>>
You stare at her. She stares back, her eyes flat and strangely unreflective. The moment stretches out in silence for a while longer before Alyssia, back in her borrowed room, lets out a soft wail of pain. That seems to break the stand off, and Iosefka's assistant finally steps away from the box, letting the sheet fall back into place. Still, she lingers nearby for a moment longer, as if daring you to scold her.

So, you ask instead, something in there that she recognises? You ask the question without much expectation of an answer – a nod or a shake of the head at most. After all, what else she going to-

“It's southern,” she says simply, in a voice so low that it can barely be heard, “Isn't it?”

Wait, you blurt out, she really can talk? Since when?

“When people think you can't speak,” the girl explains, every word perfectly pronounced, “They say careless things around you.”

What kind of logic is that, you wonder aloud, do they just assume that she can't hear as well? The girl just shrugs, acknowledging the foolishness of the idea and immediately dismissing it. It might be a stupid idea, but it's one that Iosefka has certainly learned to use to her advantage – it's little wonder that she always knows so much.

“Don't worry,” the girl murmurs suddenly, a faint smile playing around her lips, “I won't tell anyone.”

That's good, you reply brusquely as you pick up the box, that sort of talk could easily get you in trouble – her as well, if she's not careful. Better for everyone if she pretends that she never saw any of this.

“Yes,” she agrees, “I never saw a thing. Not now, not last night.”

The way she says that causes you to pause, frowning to yourself. But she DID miss a note yesterday, you point out, when she was playing. Not what you've come to expect from her, really.

“It gave me a surprise,” the girl scowls slightly, her expression revealing a wounded pride, “That “nothing” I saw. I didn't think I'd ever see something like that here.”

So, you murmur, she DID see something.

“No,” correcting you gently, a faint smile replaces the scowl, “I saw nothing.”

Of course. And if she sticks to that, you offer, you'll pretend that this conversation never happened – deal?

Considering the offer for a moment, the girl nods simply but makes no comment. Her lips, apparently, are sealed.

-

A strange feeling hangs over you as you carry the box downstairs, as if you couldn't be quite certain if that entire conversation had been imaginary or not. Oblivious to your unsettled mood, Iosefka gives you a cool smile when she sees you return.

[1/2]
>>
>>1140088
>Something in there recognize you?

A subtle twist.
>>
>>1140155
>>1140150

LATE TO THE PARTY AGAIN.

Should have asked her if a little white bird told her, as well.
>>
>>1140161
She's just experienced with spirits it seems, enough to see one without mazka. Unless she had some and we didn't see.
>>
>>1140150
We need to find some dirt on Iosefka ASAP to counterblackmail if needed.
>>
>>1140150

“So you found what you're looking for,” she muses, noting the box you carry, “I wonder... what would a Hunter bring to a party, but not end up using? Ah, but perhaps I'm better off not knowing – I've heard stories about the kind of festivities your lot get up to. Did you have a nice conversation?”

Put on the wrong foot by her question, you can only murmur some vague, indistinct answer. Which conversation, you have to wonder, does she have in mind?

“Your neighbour, I mean,” Iosefka explains, “I heard voices, just faintly, so I assume she's awake. If she's going to be resting here for much longer, I might have to start charging her rent!”

Oh, you sigh, that's all – she can send you a bill, in that case. Alyssia might be down later to take a look at that necklace, you add, and maybe take some notes. Is that okay?

“By all means,” nodding, Iosefka touches the old bones once again, “I'm quite curious as to what she can find out. I like things with a little history behind them, after all. Oh, before you go!” Reaching behind the bar, Iosefka takes the jug of mazka, shaking it a little and listening to the liquid slosh inside. “This is yours, I believe. Almost completely untouched, save for what you and your friend drank,” as you take the jug, Iosefka adds an afterthought, “Ah, but my little assistant did steal a little sip from it when she thought my back was turned. Terribly mischievous of her.”

She did, you ask slowly, why?

“Oh, I couldn't say. Maybe it reminded her of home – it's a southern liquor, isn't it?” shrugging the issue off, Iosefka laughs lightly, “Well, I wonder if she's regretting it now. She's still a little young for that kind of drinking.”

>Well, I'd better head home. Thanks for everything
>She's a strange one, that assistant of yours...
>A question, before I head off... (Write in)
>Other
>>
>>1140176
Relax
>>
>>1140178
>Well, I'd better head home. Thanks for everything
>>
>>1140178
>>She's strange but nice in her own way, that assistant of yours...
>>
>>1140164
>enough to see one without mazka.

And that ISN'T sketchy to you?

>A question, before I head off... (Write in)

Could you import more of that liquor for me? I've developed a taste. I know it might be expensive, but I'm a man of relatively few indulgences.

Wasn't there a recent break in somewhere she might know about?
>>
>>1140176
Something something stolen research?

Calm your tits, we're accomplices.

>>1140178
>Well, I'd better head home. Thanks for everything
>Liquor... it's strong enough to be pure poison, if you skimmed any you best pour it out.
>>
>>1140184
>>1140178
Forgot to link.
>>
>>1140184
>And that ISN'T sketchy to you?
Maybe a little, but it turns out she had some.
>>
>>1140184
We don't need her to import that, we can just send a letter to any of our pals down there and we know a captain who is a smuggler who go down south on the regular.
>>
>>1140190
And as a side note, if we ever need more than the one bottle we have, what the fuck are we even doing? Just smelling the vapours of that shit is good enough.
>>
>>1140178
>She's a strange one, that assistant of yours...
>Is she from the south? How did you two even meet?
>>
>>1140194
True. One sip was more than enough back in the south.
>>
Liquor, you think aloud, that's certainly one word for it – it's just short of pure poison. Probably not the sort of thing she could sell here, you add, so if she skimmed off any for herself...

“Henryk, if I took any of that stuff, it would be to clean out my drains,” Iosefka shakes her head in amusement, “Certainly not for drinking or selling. I dare say that I'd get in trouble if the Ministry found me selling it here – who knows what they put in that stuff down south? No, just having it here last night was enough of a risk for me – and, honestly, I'm not even sure why you'd want to drink it. Picked up a taste for it down south, did you?”

Something like that, you agree vaguely. Say, she seems like the type to know – where would a guy like you get some more of it? It might be expensive, but you're a man of few indulgences.

“You'd want to ask at an import company. Most them are down in Odyss, but there was one based here,” pausing, Iosefka touches her lips in thought, “I seem to recall reading something about it, though. Did it close down? I didn't pay much attention at the time.”

There was a break in, you tell her with a carefully neutral expression, they closed down not long after that. In either case, it's not a pressing concern – you've got more than enough to be getting on with for now. Speaking of southern things, you add, that assistant of hers is a strange one. Nice enough in her own way, but strange. She IS southern isn't she? How did the two of them even meet?

“If you're looking for a grand adventure, I'm afraid you'll be disappointed. I first met her down in Odyss, while I was doing a little business there. She was on the streets, earning a few stray coins by playing music. Frankly, I'm amazed she survived that kind of life – like you said, she's southern, and they're not always popular here,” glancing across to the stage, to the musical instruments still arranged there, Iosefka smiles fondly, “I thought she'd make a better living here with me, playing for a better crowd with a roof over her head. She hasn't run away yet, so I suppose she must feel the same way.”

She's free to leave whenever she likes?

“Of course! I'll admit, though, I'd be really rather upset if she did,” Iosefka's smile saddens slightly, “I've grown quite fond of her over the years. As far as I'm concerned, she's family. You probably think I'm a fool, taking in a complete stranger like that.”

Right, you deadpan, who would ever take in a random runaway?

[1/2]
>>
>>1140231

Back at your apartment, you take your time hiding away both the totem and the jug of mazka – anything to put off actually writing your report on the ritual for a few seconds more. It's not that you're reluctant to write it, just that your head is throbbing hard enough to make writing almost impossible. Hell, just bringing your vision into focus seems like an unacceptable expenditure of energy.

You'll have a lie down, see how you feel later.

-

Sleeping helps a little, and after a few hours of suffering in a darkened room you're ready to work. Just being ready to work, on the other hand, is only half the struggle. No matter how hard you try, you just can't seem to find the right words to describe your experience. The conversation you had with Revelle seemed more like a dream, obeying its own rules and sense of logic – and, like any dream, transcribing it to paper never truly captures the feel of it. In the end, you just write down the facts in the plainest way possible. If that isn't enough for Hartmann, well, tough luck – you never claimed to be a Scholar.

As you're putting the final touches to your report, you hear a knock at your door. When you open It, Alyssia practically wilts into your apartment. The strain of carrying a heavy book was, apparently, almost too much for her to stand.

“I've been doing my reading,” she says, forgoing any introductions or small talk, “And I was right, I HAD seen those symbols before. You don't get a lot of stuff written down, so I was able to find the source pretty quickly. Here, let me...” Trailing off, she sets down her heavy tome and starts to lay sheets of paper out on your table. Glancing aside, you meet Lize's eyes and give her a helpless shrug.

Slow down, you tell Alyssia, you're still half asleep.

“Right, right. I had some coffee back at the bar, and your doctor friend brews it strong,” rubbing her eyes, Alyssia skims over her notes before looking back up to you, “Where should I start?”

>These symbols, do they have anything to do with witchcraft?
>Were you able to translate the symbols?
>Are they... dangerous?
>Here's what I want to know... (Write in)
>Other
>>
>>1140263
>These symbols, do they have anything to do with witchcraft?
>Were you able to translate the symbols?

And most importantly
>Are they... dangerous?
I just want to make sure Vas didn't accidentally give Iosefka a ticking time bomb. If it's just a necklace would some symbols its all good.
>>
>>1140263
>>These symbols, do they have anything to do with witchcraft?
>>Were you able to translate the symbols?
From the start would be a good thing. Do we have anything we could snack on?
>>
>>1140267
>would
with*
>>
>>1140263
>These symbols, do they have anything to do with witchcraft?
>Were you able to translate the symbols?
>Are they... dangerous?
>>
>>1140263
>Were you able to translate the symbols?
>>
>>1140263
>Other

"The Beginning is usually a good place."
>>
>>1140263
Also this writing seems kind of . . . implicating if someone found out about it.

Could we write it as if it were an account we heard from someone down south instead?
>>
>>1140319
Bah why are we even writing it down?

Let's go to meet him in person, Hartmann is a sad, lonely old man in a big house. I don't think anyone is reading our post but it's seriously not worth the risk. Not in a society where flamethrowers and burning down villages and everyone inside is an acceptable prevention of cooties.
>>
This seems like it could be a long talk, so you don't want to start before you're ready. Giving Alyssia a moment more to prepare herself, you rummage in your cupboards for something to eat. After skipping breakfast, hunger is starting to settle in. A small tin of biscuits, all that you could find, will have to do for now. Asking Lize to get some tea brewing, you sit down opposite Alyssia and look at the papers. Some of the symbols are large and simple, while other pages are crammed with smaller characters.

Looking at all those pages, you start to feel faintly lost. How about the beginning, you ask, could she start at the beginning? Was she able to translate the symbols, or wasn't she?

“Well, uh, maybe “translate” isn't the best word to use, but yes. I was able to make sense of them. They're not really letters, not something that can be directly translated. You see these bigger characters here? They were carved on the front of the bones. I guess the necklace looks better that way? Anyway, they represent the moon – the various phases of it, I believe, as well as... other things. I'll get to that in a bit,” pausing to munch down a biscuit, Alyssia taps one of the other pages, “These smaller characters were carved into the back of the bones. It took me a while to figure out, but they seem to refer to the stars.”

The moon and the stars, you murmur with growing interest, what more can she tell you?

“Right, the two are connected, used as a way of measuring time. The position of the stars, as recorded here, can be used to predict the phases of the moon,” looking up from the notes, Alyssia gives you a bright, enthusiastic smile, “Don't you think that's pretty neat? A lot of people think northerners are uneducated, but that's really not true!”

So, you think aloud, do these symbols have anything to do with witchcraft?

“They do, yes,” lowering her voice slightly, Alyssia leans forwards, “A great many of the local rites are traditionally associated with specific times, specific phases of the moon. It's a little less common these days, or it was back when I was living up north, but... well, you know. Things change, knowledge is lost or gets twisted about. What I mean is, these carvings were probably made by a very old witch. That means...”

Are they dangerous, you ask bluntly, is Iosefka wearing anything that could harm her? Are they-

“Are they gonna blow up when you read them?” Lize asks as she sets down two cups, pouring tea. Both you and Alyssia look up at her, stunned silent.

Probably not, you reply slowly, considering that nobody has exploded yet.

“Yet!” the young Dragon repeats, holding up a warning finger.

[1/2]
>>
>>1140360
Why are you so best Lize.
Please never change.
>>
>>1140360
>they help in conceiving a baby.
Vas is fucking smooth if this is the case.
>>
>>1140382
mon and stars
thigns that get power durning the time of the moon?
yup its a baby maker
dat vass
>>
>>1140387
>>1140382

Like Hebona's child of the Moon?
>>
>>1140390
Hebona intentionally went far north to get fucked by the Nameless God.
>>
>>1140393
mumy which one of the gods is my dady??
well sweety there namless so it could any or all of them
>>
>>1140360

“Well, to answer your question, they're not dangerous,” Alyssia assures you after a moment, “These symbols have no power by themselves, and I reckon you'd need to be a serious expert to recognise them as anything... you know, illegal. Most folks wouldn't look twice at them. Iosefka doesn't have anything to worry about, she can wear them as much as she likes. She's not about to, you know, bring about the end of the world or anything.”

Well that's a relief. Taking things back a little, you ask, she said that the moon symbols were more than just the phases. What did she mean?

“Oh, well, some phases of the moon traditionally have associations. Uh, this one is Father Moon, for example. Often associated with, um...” looking down at the table, breaking her eyes away from you, Alyssia lowers her voice a little more, “Associated with male fertility.” She says this last part in a rush, as if regretting ever choosing that example. A moment of silence follows, and the Lize snorts out a rush of laughter.

“Hey yeah,” she chuckles, “It sorta looks like a-”

Which one of them, you interrupt quietly, is the Gorgon Moon? That question, softly spoken, causes Lize to stop laughing and Alyssia to meet your gaze once more.

“Uh...” Alyssia pauses, giving you a long and curious look before pointing to one of the symbols, “It's this one. You... you really know more than you let on, huh?”

You have your sources, yes.

“I'll uh, I mean, ah...” taking a deep sip of her tea, Alyssia stalls for time, “I'll need to do a little more research to be sure. These are all my very early guesses, I thought you'd want to know what I learned as soon as possible. Let's call this an ongoing project, okay? Hey, uh, you were writing some stuff when I arrived, what was that?”

That, you think, was the clumsiest attempt at changing the subject you've ever heard. Shrugging, you file the subject away for future discussion and move on. It's the report you were going to send to Hartmann, you tell her, but you were going to rewrite it – make it a little less incriminating. As it is, anyone who read it and did a little research would be able to trace it back to you, maybe Iosefka as well.

“Where does this Hartmann fellow live? We could always just visit him,” Alyssia takes your report and glances over it, “I wouldn't mind meeting him, he sounds interesting!”

She's got a point there. Weiss isn't far, and you can think of worse ways to spend a day.

>Okay, we can go visit him in person. Today, if you want
>I'd rather just mail it over. Easier that way
>Wait, I had a few more questions... (Write in)
>Other
>>
>>1140410
>Okay, we can go visit him in person. Today, if you want
>Let's buy him a cat. He's a lonely man.
>>
>>1140410
>>Okay, we can go visit him in person. Today, if you want
>>
>>1140410
>>Okay, we can go visit him in person. Today, if you want
>>
>>1140410
>Okay, we can go visit him in person. Today, if you want

>Bring the mazka
Maybe if he takes a sip he can see the spirit. We can probably coax it out if need be. It's our friend!
>>
>>1140410
>I'd rather just mail it over. Easier that way
Which knights do we have left to kill by the way?
>>
>>1140468
Primal, Nemesis, and Noble
>>
>>1140410

Okay, you decide, you can both go and visit him in person. Today, if she wants... or if she feels up to it. Hartmann lives down in Weiss, so it's not a long journey.

“The fresh air will be nice,” Alyssia nods, “And ah, I've never been to Weiss! I've heard a lot about it though, isn't it a pretty well-off area? Your friend must be pretty wealthy, if that's where he lives.” Excitement steals its way into Alyssia's voice as she packs away her notes, haphazardly tucking them away into her thick book. “Do you think he'd be happy to have guests?” she continues, “We won't be intruding, will we?”

Hartmann, you assure her, struck you as a fairly lonesome type – if you had to guess, you'd say that he'd welcome the chance to have guests.

“I guess he lives alone, huh?” Lize says, “Yeah, that's gonna suck. Living alone for a long time does weird stuff to people.” She gives you a wink as she says this, a sly smile playing around her lips.

He should just do what you did, you reply, and get a pet. Maybe a cat, something that can lounge about like it owns the place.

“Ouch,” the young Dragon winces, biting back a rush of laughter.

-

As Alyssia returns to her apartment to get ready – to put on some “formal” clothes, she said – you set about making a few preparations of your own. After taking a good, long shower and shaving, you dig out an old flask and slosh a measure of the mazka into it. Hartmann might want to try out the southern brew, and it doesn't take up much room in your pocket. Besides, if his company turns out to be more boring than you were expecting, well... you'll have something to perk you up.

“Hey, you know, Weiss...” Lize says suddenly, drawing your attention as you're putting the flask away, “It's got this place. A blacksmith, I guess you'd call it. Kind of a fancy place, got a history that goes way back. Noble folk, they get their swords made there. Guess I would have got one of my own, if I'd stuck around a few years – it's a rite of passage thing, you know?”

A very interesting piece of history, you agree, what's her point?

“No, no point. I'm not making any point,” shaking her head quickly, Lize plasters a wide smile across her face, “Anyway, I'm not really feeling this one, I'll just stay here. You enjoy your trip, okay?” Having given you this hasty message, Lize scurries away to the kitchen and starts to wash the teacups.

Shrugging, you head through to your bedroom to get some halfway respectable clothes. When you arrive, you see a few things already laid out for you. Sitting neatly on top of the clothes, you spot the glint of metal – the broken off sword that formed the tip of the White Tyrant's spear.

Lize might be trying to hint at something.

>I'm starting to lag, so I'll close things here. I'll start a new thread on Friday, and I can stick around for a while in case of any questions
>Thanks to everyone who contributed today!
>>
>>1140476
>Lize might be trying to hint at something.
Wink wink make me a sword nudge nudge.

Thanks for running.
>>
Why can't she just come out and say it, we've already talked about turning the spear tip into a dagger or short sword.

Well whatever, maybe the blacksmith will work for people who aren't dragons and won't charge us up the wazoo for the job.
>>
>>1140486
the blacksmith makes thigns for dragons, of course his going to be pricy unless mybe we nd up doing somethign for him
>>
>>1140476
thanks
>>
>>1140536
>>1140486
Maybe he'll work for free when he realizes we brought him both the White Tyrant's weapon that is a part of the Knight's King's greatsword.
>>
>>1140536
We have tons of money, remember?
>>
>>1140555
yer but not noble tons of money
>>1140547
that could work
>>
>>1140476
Missed the whole session but thanks for running Moloch. Looks like we'll finally be getting Lize her super special weapon, she'll obviously be happy about it.
>>
>>1140547
or he gives it to someone more worthy.
Can't make a personal blade without the wielder though? unless the receiver already knows their specs.
>>
>>1140859
>or he gives it to someone more worthy.
Pfft. He can try and take the metal we gave him to someone else over our dead body.

Besides he is just a blacksmith. I don't think he makes that call.

>Can't make a personal blade without the wielder though?
Maybe. Henryk probably knows Lize well enough now to give details.
>>
>>1140880
>>1140859
>Artemis visits blacksmith in his dreams
>I dunno man, I had a weird dream and got a burst of inspiration. Now the sword you ordered is glowing.
>>
>>1140880
>Maybe. Henryk probably knows Lize well enough now to give details.
You think Henryk has her hand measurements?

Maybe we should take them before going.

>>1140547
Dude, there will be NO end of trouble if nobles find out about that. Jesus, imagine when word gets to a dragon whose blood is boiling over, there will be a crusade for our ass.
>>
>>1142925
Being real I think we are overthinking and speculating bad outcomes for what is honestly probably a simple transaction. In fact the only thing we are doing is giving Moloch notes. So I suggest we just wait and see what it's like on Friday.
>>
>>1142938
You are likely to be correct but I don't think this is particularly paranoid. Just showing up out of nowhere and claim we've got the spear tip of a major historical relic? If the dude knows his metallurgy as he should, he'll know it's no ordinary piece of metal because it isn't.

The least worst scenario is that he thinks we looted it from somewhere and reports it to the ministry. Either someone shuts it down and makes people suspicious or they'll learn of our secret involvement in the war.

How is that for giving him ideas?
>>
>>1142946
We can go half truth. Say we killed White Tyrant and wanted to make his spear head into a sword but leave out it was part of the King's greatsword.

This is all assuming he asks about it though. If we can just go in and out with money we should just do that.
>>
>>1142951
We could probably just tell him we were on an expedition to the north and brought it back as a trophy.
Might sound more believable. I think we weren't mentioned in the papers?
>>
>>1140476

Let's get the Blacksmith drunk on Mazka first and chat with him about what he thinks about getting the chance to work with the White Tyrant's spear to make a sword for a promising young noble. Imply that we can get it.

Then if he's receptive, tell him we're actually the Wolf who killed the White Tyrant, and that's why. Then to prove it, pull it out and show it to him. Have a few more drinks of Mazka.

If he picks up on the special composition, that's when we reveal it's part of the Knight King's Greatsword.

Then after forging we get him super drunk so he doesn't really remember forging it. Ideally we get him possessed by some Forge Spirit during the forging. Maybe Revelle can help us with it.

That way the guy writes off his work.

Also I'm pretty sure any decent blacksmith would sell the souls of himself and everyone he knows to be able to work a blade like that.

Also I thought we were making it into a Dagger, not a sword?

Why don't we make a Sword / Main Gauche pairing. So that Liz can carve her own legend with her own sword, while not denying her Knight heritage. Kind of a statement that she isn't that dude that lives in her blood, but someone unique.
>>
>>1145601
Sorry,

> That way the guy writes off his work as being messed up during a booze and spirit filled haze that he doesn't really want to think about, and to just appreciate how good the sword and dagger he made is.
>>
>>1145601
I don't know about everything else, but I wholly support the idea to make a sword/dagger set. This way Lize has a full combat option and a stealth carry option.
>>
>>1145601
I'm not sure if the southern spirits are compatible with the Knight King's greatsword, and either way a plan that hinges on getting someone drunk on mazka sounds like a bad time for everyone involved.

Sword/Main Gauche sounds neat. Liz is a little small for a full sword anyway, so having something to use until then would help.
>>
>>1145639
A proper Main Gauche has an enormous handguard though. I'd prefer something more compact, for concealed carry.
>>
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Vote on a sword, anons
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>>1145643
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>>1145645
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>>1145646
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>>1145647
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>>1145601
Your plan is absurd and out of character.

I love it.
>>
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>>1145648
>The shark teeth just SPROUTED, I swear!




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