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>>1198983

With the smoke from Gnyev's funeral pyre darkening the air behind you, you set off back towards the Resettlement Area at an unhurried pace. It took a while to gather enough materials to get a decent fire going, but the effort was well worth it. If Gnyev had some kind of disease, dragging the body back to the Resettlement Area would only risk spreading it further. Besides, some small part of you prefers it this way – burning the body out in the wilderness just feels... right.

Less work for you as well, this way. Pure coincidence.

-

An ill air is already hanging over the Resettlement Area when you arrive back, with the sentries pacing back and forth with their rifles close to hand. Further inside the camp, you can see a number of the locals watching the soldiers with sullen eyes, unreadable and unresponsive. As you pass them by, a few heads draw together in conspiratorial whisperings, a sudden uncertainty changing the mood. Word of what you had been doing must have spread, you realise, only the natives hadn't been expecting you to return.

Whispers and fleeting glances follow you as you return to the Ministry prison, the guards at the door parting with just a glimpse of your papers. Inside, crowded around a table, a number of Ministry soldiers – men of rank, judging by their uniforms – look down at a spread map and listen intently as Camilla gives them their orders. She's so focused on instructing the men that your arrival goes unnoticed, for a moment at least.

“You've all got your search areas, but I don't your men spread too thinly. Nobody goes off on their own, not under any circumstances,” she stresses, stabbing a finger down against the map, “Tomorrow morning, at first light, I want everyone-”

“Ma'am,” one of the soldiers cuts in, “I don't think we'll be needing that search after all.”

Looking up, ready to chastise the man, Camilla finally notices you. Her lips part in a soft, silent gasp before her usual mask of cold professionalism comes slamming back down. Nodding briskly, she lets her gaze pan around the assembled soldiers. “Dismissed,” she says at last, “Back to your posts, I'll file a report with Commander Dunajski once I've got the details. Hanson, that means I'll need to speak with you. Follow me, please.”

>>1198985

So, you remark as you sit down in a makeshift office, a search party?

“A contingency plan,” Camilla replies with a shrug, crumpling an empty cigarette box in her hand, “Besides, it gave me something to keep me occupied while you were away. The Wolf, is he...”

Dead, you confirm, you found him and put him down. He found you, to be more precise, but that's just splitting hairs. The end result was the same – there shouldn't be any more killings.

“That's a weight off my mind. With Maksym in a cell and the rest of his men dead, I think that just about wraps things up. I'll make all the necessary reports,” wincing a little at the thought of more paperwork, Camilla rubs her brow, “Thank you, Henryk. You've made my job a lot easier.”

>Anytime. Now, I need to get back to Port Steyr
>What's going to happen to Maksym?
>Gnyev had some disease, black sores all down his body. Have any of the other natives shown signs of it?
>Other

>>1198987
>Gnyev had some disease, black sores all down his body. Have any of the other natives shown signs of it?
>What's going to happen to Maksym?

>>1198987
>>Gnyev had some disease, black sores all down his body. Have any of the other natives shown signs of it?
Nice to have ya back Moloch.

>>1198987
>Gnyev had some disease, black sores all down his body. Have any of the other natives shown signs of it?

What if it's bloodborne anons?

>>1198995
Hope we get lucky?

What's going to happen to Maksym, you ask, will he be executed? That, you consider, is usually how the Ministry handles those it arrests for serious crimes – or even not so serious ones, depending.

“That's right,” Camilla nods grimly, “He'll be taken back to Port Steyr and shot, quickly and discretely. I had to fight for this, though – Dunajski had a different plan. He wanted to send a message, you see.” Disgust creeps into her voice as she rises from the desk, moving to the window and peering out. “Dunajski wanted Maksym to hang,” she continues, “A pubic hanging, right in the middle of the camp. He was quite taken with the idea, I'm still a little surprised that I was able to talk him down. Still, when I raised the possibility of his decision goading the natives into open revolt, he saw sense.”

Dunajski, you remark, almost seems like he'd enjoy the chance to crush a rebellion.

“Maybe so, but not if it could be directly traced back to his actions,” shaking her head, Camilla grimaces, “He's smart enough not to dirty his hands too much – nothing that might jeopardise his future career. Port Dunajski...” She mutters that last part in a weary voice, scowling out the window again. A silence falls, but then you clear your throat.

Gnyev had some kind of disease, you tell her carefully, something that left him with black sores all down his body. Have any of the other natives shown similar symptoms? An outbreak in the camp could be disastrous, so...

“Hmm,” thinking, Camilla returns to the desk and starts to rummage through one of the drawers, “Black sores, you said? That does sound familiar...”

Right, you confirm, black sores that had an awful smell to them – like rotting flesh, almost.

“Ah, that settles it. It's not a disease, it's a parasite – something you can pick up from eating raw or badly meat. The black sores are areas of decaying flesh, flesh that the parasite feeds on. Some of the locals have picked it up from hunting rats or other animals. We've tried to forbid it, but...” shrugging, Camilla takes a small pamphlet out and flips through it, “Not lethal, but pretty nasty if left untreated. Catch it early enough, though, and it's easily enough treated.”

That's good to hear, you reply slowly, but... can someone catch it from an infected person?

“It's pretty unlikely, skin contact wouldn't spread it,” dropping the pamphlet down, Camilla gives you a firm nod, “Unless you took a good bite out of him, you don't have anything to worry about.”

A long pause. Well, you say eventually, about that...

“You...” Camilla stares at you with disbelief, as if she can't decide whether to be amused or horrified. In the end, she settles for something more practical. “There's a doctor downstairs,” she assures you, “I'll show you his office.”

[1/2]

>>1199014

This whole trip has proven to be surprisingly educational. For example, you've learned all about Northern Blackworm, and how to treat it. An injection of some faintly poisonous solution does the trick in the early days, although that same brew leaves you feeling as sick as a dying dog afterwards. At least the doctor doesn't ask too many awkward questions, simply nodding with resigned acceptance once you tell him the problem.

“You're not the first person here to catch it. Some of the soldiers have got it from food they bought down in the Bazaar. They're given rations specifically to avoid that sort of thing, but...” Camilla makes a bitter face, “Well, a man can grow sick of canned meat after a while, and even dubious alternatives start to look tempting. It's worse when they try to hide it – then the doctor has to cut the worms out, one by one.”

You HAD been feeling hungry, you think remorsefully, but now you've lost your appetite. Maybe that's for the best – you don't feel like you could keep a meal down after that “medicine”.

“Of course, that's not the only thing the doctor here has to deal with,” Camilla adds, offering you a humourless smile, “Some of the men have picked up other things at the Bazaar, if you understand me.”

Thinking back to the women at the Bazaar, and what they were selling, you simply nod. Something to warn Stefan about, you mention wryly, where is he anyway?

“He said he was heading back to Port Steyr as soon as possible,” Camilla tells you, “There's a ship down at the docks, it'll take you both back there. As I said, I need to write up some reports on all this – so I'm stuck here for a while longer. Duty comes first, after all.”

Come to think of it, you consider aloud, you've got your own duties to take care of. You have your own business in Port Steyr to return to.

“Well, go on then,” flapping a hand at you, Camilla gestures off towards the docks, “You've got my authority to take the ship, they shouldn't question you. Oh, and... I'm glad you came back okay. I was...”

Worried?

“Concerned,” she corrects you sternly, “Now when you see Stefan, tell him to keep his nose clean from now on.”

Of course, you assure her with a neutral expression, you're the perfect person to teach someone about staying out of trouble.

[2/3]

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>>1199048

Stefan keeps up a sullen silence for most of the journey back to Port Steyr, answering your few questions in as brief a way as possible. He doesn't seem angry as such, just deep in thought – something that must be quite tiring for him. After a few abortive attempts at making conversation, you leave him to it and go about your own business. In this case, that's standing at the prow of the Ministry ship and fighting back the urge to vomit. That damn medicine...

It's a short trip between the Resettlement Area and Port Steyr, and soon you're arriving at the docks. Something about the lighting makes Port Steyr look especially ugly, you note, with the ramshackle bars along the waterfront clinging like barnacles to the older fortified buildings. Before you can dwell too much on the unpleasant sight, you hear a loud voice calling your name.

“Here, Henryk!” Vas calls out, waving to get your attention, “Need a hand with this, come over here, would you?”

As soon as your ship is in dock, you leap ashore and hurry across to help Vas with the heavy crate he was preparing to carry. Between the two of you, it's not much of a burden, but you have to be careful nonetheless – the word “EXPLOSIVE” stamped onto the wooden crate is a great motivator.

“Grenade harpoons,” Vas tells you, “I figured it was best to bring extra and prepare for the worst. Speaking of, we're just about ready to leave – we can go as soon as you're ready.”

That was quick, you remark, you'd been expecting it to take longer.

“Aye, well, most of the men didn't take as much convincing as I'd thought. I suppose they trust me by now,” Vas almost sounds unhappy about it, as if he might be abusing their trust, “So I had time to do a little shopping and take in the local gossip. A fair number of stories flying about, let me tell you...”

About the Resettlement Area, you guess, right?

“Aye,” nodding, Vas glances up at you, “Among other things.”

Before he can say anything more, you reach the Ghoul and begin the laborious process of loading the grenade harpoons. They're stable enough these days, but you still can't put the thought of blowing yourself up out of your mind. When the task is finished, Vas leans back against the Ghoul's railings and mops his brow.

“So,” the old captain remarks, “Where were we?”

>Preparing to head north. I'm ready when you are
>I'd like you to wait a little. I had something I needed to do... (Write in)
>Did many of your crew quit? This is a pretty risky venture...
>You were talking about gossip. What did you hear?
>I was about to ask you something... (Write in)
>Other

>>1199058
>You were talking about gossip. What did you hear?
>Preparing to head north. I'm ready when you are

If anybody can think of anything we need before we head out now is the time. Might be the last time we'll be in civilization for a bit.

>>1199058
>Preparing to head north. I'm ready when you are

>>1199058
>>Did many of your crew quit? This is a pretty risky venture...
>>You were talking about gossip. What did you hear?

>>1199058
>Preparing to head north. I'm ready when you are
>You were talking about gossip. What did you hear?

He was talking about gossip, you remind him, what did he hear?

“Oh, plenty. I'll keep the amusing parts for when we head off – perhaps we'll need all the humour we can get. For now, I'll give the relevant bits. Relevant to where we're going, if you catch my meaning,” lowering his voice slightly, Vas glances about the deck, “I was testing the waters a little, seeing what sort of stories go around about this Garden of yours. There's not much, which is about what I expected, but I did hear one thing. Turns out, we're not the first fools to get this wild idea about sailing there.”

Someone else tried it before, you wonder, did this gossip say what happened to them?

“Aye, but you can probably guess,” Vas barks out a gruff laugh, “The old “vanished without a trace” ending. Ship that went up there was called the Orphan, a fair big thing – bigger than my Ghoul, at least. It was a private ship, not Ministry or College or any of that, just a captain out to make his fortune. Barman I talked to, he was only a kid when the Orphan docked here so the details are all a little muddled. Man named Saveriu was leading the expedition, but he had a friend with him – northern lass that never spoke around anyone, but Saveriu seemed to trust her with his life.”

Probably a witch, you consider, offering to protect the expedition in the far north. Whether or not she followed through on that offer is not something you can know, although considering that the Orphan never returned... you can probably make a guess. Saveriu, you ask, what he said to be after?

“Ah, just treasure of uncountable value,” waving an indifferent hand, Vas snorts dismissively, “You know, that old story. Whenever anyone asked him to be more specific, he shut right up though. If you ask me, he knew exactly what he was looking for, and he didn't want anyone else to get there before him.”

Didn't work out so well for him though, you point out, did it?

“Aye, well, let's just hope we have better luck,” Vas grunts, nodding towards the Ghoul's helm, “I've been keeping that little story to myself, I don't want to spook the crew. I've had good luck with them, and I don't want to piss that away.”

You can't really blame him, you agree, did he lose many of them? This is shaping up to be a pretty risky venture, so you wouldn't be surprised if a few of them had backed out.

“Just a pair of them,” holding up two fingers, Vas nods firmly, “We're still in good shape, more than capable of performing at full capacity. Hell, the Ghoul's a good ship – I wager we could get by with half that.”

With luck, you mutter, it won't come to that.

[1/2]

>>1199087

Waiting for a few hours more, you watch as the rest of the crew files back to the Ghoul. Considering what you might be sailing into, they seem to be in remarkably good spirits – it's almost enough to make you wonder just what Vas told them. As you look on, they take their positions and shout out confirmations. One barrage of naval terminology later, and you seem ready to go. With nothing else to do here, in this meagre excuse for civilisation, you give Vas the nod.

The sound of the Ghoul's engine is almost a growl of warning, and then the ship prowls out into the open waters. Frowning with grim concentration, Vas gestures for you to follow him into his cabin. A map of the northern waters is spread out before you, rough calculations scrawled in with pencil.

“I've been doing a little planning ahead,” Vas begins, “At the Ghoul's average speed, it should take us a few days to... what, what's so funny?”

It's nothing, you reply as you force back a smile, but he's definitely never been this far north before – if he had, he wouldn't be speaking of days like this. It's just not that simple. Even without the flow of time becoming unreliable, day and night are indistinguishable past a certain point. All you can do is keep moving forwards until you reach your destination.

“Huh,” Vas looks down at his map for a long moment before slowly scratching out the calculations, “I'm starting to have second thoughts about this, Henryk.”

It's fine, you assure him, you've been there before and you came back.

Grumbling, Vas glances forlornly back to where he keeps his liquor.

-

You're at sea for a little over a full day before the Ghoul's clock stops dead, every other timepiece shared among the crew suffering a similar fate. Some continue to run but at wildly different speeds, while others waver between working and not. The point is the same – time no longer applies, just as you warned Vas. This is the cue for the light mood to die, replaced by a heavier and more oppressive feeling.

Still, no signs of any problems with your health, so Revelle is doing her job admirably.

The Ghoul continues onwards, cutting swiftly through the water, and her crew goes about their business as best they can. Above, the moon seems to grow larger and larger the further you go, until it fills a good portion of the sky. The sky itself has changed as well, making a sickly display – like blood and milk swirling together without ever quite mixing. When the crew head up on deck, a thing they do rarely, they avoid looking up at the sky as much as possible. Whenever they waver and let their gaze pan upwards, they shudder and scurry back below deck.

[2/3]

>>1199115
They may be shaken, but at least they aren't driven to breaking point like Wehrlain's machine caused.

>>1199115

Time passes, unmarked by any clock or watch. When you grow tired, you lie back on the bed and dream fitfully. When you grow hungry, you take something from the Ghoul's supplies and listlessly eat. This goes on for a while, the sea as empty and monotonous as ever, but then a cry from above deck shatters the uneasy peace. Following Vas' hail, you hurry up to see what's happening.

“We're approaching Ghruul's Eye,” Vas tells you, his voice tight with tension, “That means we're in dangerous waters – I'll try and steer well clear of it, but there's still a risk of getting pulled in if we wander off course. Just leave steering the ship to me, Henryk, I can get us through this.”

Right, you agree, is there anything you can do?

“Hrn,” the old captain grunts, “How are the crew doing?”

They're tense and unnerved, you admit, but they're not at breaking point. When you were here the first time, with the Wehrlain Device in action... the men were pushed to the brink of madness. He might not be able to believe this, you tell Vas with a wan smile, but this is getting off lightly.

“Maybe, I-” Vas bites back whatever else he has to say, narrowing his eyes to slits and staring at something in the distance. “What the hell...” he mutters, “We should have been able to see that long before now, why...”

You follow his gaze, and then you see what he saw. A ship, larger than the Ghoul, run aground on a ragged outcrop of land. It's old and blighted by rust, but as Vas passes a telescope to you, the ship's name reveals itself – the Orphan.

-

The Ghoul is still, letting you observe this new sight from a safe distance. As you study it, something occurs to you – it's pointed towards you, as if it was returning from the Garden of Giants. Returning victoriously, though, or fleeing from something?

“I can get us close to it,” Vas says slowly, “Drop a crew down onto that land, scale the sides and get aboard. It's possible, but...”

But he doesn't like the looks of it, you guess, right?

“I don't like the look of ANY of this,” the captain stresses, “This doesn't really change anything. Look, Henryk, you're calling the shots here – you're the only one here who has the faintest idea of what the hell we're dealing with. If you want to take a look...”

>I'll go and check things out. If they found something, we might be able to salvage it
>No way, let's focus on heading to the Garden
>Other

>>1199127
>I'll go and check things out. If they found something, we might be able to salvage it

Just be careful. The last time we did this time decided to go fast forward and rust the ship into dust while we were still on it.

>>1199127
>I'll go and check things out. If they found something, we might be able to salvage it

>>1199127
>>I'll go and check things out. If they found something, we might be able to salvage it

>>1199127
> Hail it, and if there's no response then sink it with the explosive harpoons

Anyone going north working with a Witch is bad news coming back at this point.

Fuck. That. Shit.

Also

> Saveriu,

> Saive

Pretty close, no? This family, I tell you what, seems to have more than a healthy amount of interaction with what is going on here.

>>1199155
>Wasting ammo on a grounded ship.

You'll go, you tell Vas carefully, and you'll check things out. If Saveriu found something out there, you might be able to salvage it for yourself. Even if there isn't anything to recover, he might have left records or a journal of what he encountered on the Garden. Anything that might give you an idea of what you could be walking into would be a valuable find.

“I get you,” Vas nods, “I'll give the order to take us in, then I'll see if I can get any volunteers to go with you. Best not to go alone, if you can help it.”

Nodding, your gaze still fixed on the grounded ship ahead of you, you sense Vas departing. The last time you boarded a ship like this, you consider, it practically crumbled to dust beneath your feet. Best to get out at the first sign of trouble.

-

To your surprise, Vas was able to find two men willing to join you – Bohdan, a sly looking fellow with a hungry glint in his eye, and Sasha, broad shouldered and serious. Motivated by money and loyalty respectively, if you had to guess. With the two men waiting a pace behind you, the Ghoul slowly approaches that ragged strip of land and drops anchor. A moment passes, and then Vas emerges to join you.

“I'm getting nothing on any radio frequencies – it's not broadcasting anything. Can't see any movement either, it looks like nobody's home,” grimacing, Vas glares at the ship for a while more, “You're still going in?”

You're still going in, you confirm, but you want him to be ready for anything. If he sees you running, you want him to put a grenade into the ship. You're not prepared to play around.

“I understand,” nodding, Vas leans against the harpoon gun, “I'll be ready. Good luck, Henryk.”

-

With solid rock underfoot, the three of you approach the grounded ship, scanning the outside of the hull for anything suspicious. Unlike the doomed ship you found in the north, this one is plain and unadorned – no signs of any totems or other witchcraft. You're not sure if that's a good sign or not, really.

“There,” Bohdan points to a set of rusting rungs set into the side of the ship, “It'll get us up on deck... if they hold.”

“I'll go first,” Sasha speaks up next, “If they hold my weight, they'll do for all of us.” As you nod for him to go ahead, the bulky sailor starts to climb, tugging on the rungs as he goes. “Seems fine,” he calls down, “You can follow me.”

Shrugging lightly, you start up the ladder after him. Bohdan goes last, with an unmistakable note of reluctance about him. The climb seems to last an age – there's no magic here, just nerves and tension – but eventually you haul yourself up onto the deck. It's... unremarkable. No bloodstains or signs of a struggle, no witchcraft or anything of that ilk. Just a dead ship, barren and devoid of life.

[1/2]

>>1199180

Bohdan points out his estimation for where the captain's quarters should be found – a tower that looms above the rest of the ship – and you take him at his word. He seems like the type to know the best place to start, you muse, when robbing a tomb. That hungry look in his eye makes you think of scavenging birds, the kind given to feasting on corpses – or men soon to become corpses. If he knows his stuff, though, you won't refuse his help.

You make it inside the Orphan without much trouble, although Sasha needs to force the corroded doors before they can open. Inside the gloomy corridors, you see the first sign of life – a fat, greasy rat that scurries past you, a shrill squeal marking its passage. Shuddering with revulsion, you press on ahead to the highest level of the ship, arriving a door that is rather more ornate than any other. A tarnished plate is screwed to the door, and brushing the grime away reveals the name – Captain Saveriu van Wieren.

Hinges squeal, as shrill as any rat, as you open the door and look inside. Even worn down by the passing of time, the luxury is clear to see. Bohdan gasps lightly at the sight, and you have to stop him from eagerly pilfering anything he can fit in a pocket. Later, you tell him, when you've checked for anything useful.

“Useful like this?” Sasha asks, holding up an old leather book, “Might be, it looks a journal.”

It's in your hands before he's even finished talking.

-

The first thing you note is that the journal is in remarkably good condition, considering its age. Still, you treat it with care as you turn to the last few pages, glancing past irrelevant entries and picking up whatever information you can. Saveriu often writes about a woman named “Juno”, and her powers – his witch, then. Their relationship was not a romantic one, a fact that Saveriu frequently bemoans, but more of a business partnership. A partnership, you learn, where Juno had her own mysterious goals.

Towards the end of the journal, the entries grow shorter. One catches your eye:

“It is neither flesh nor wood nor stone, but something like all three. Unprecedented material – the College will pay well for a specimen like this! Wish we could have taken it intact, but too large for transport. Cut it apart and stored it below deck. Juno is pleased – claims to have found her own treasure there. Strange, she took nothing for herself.”

Something that is neither flesh nor wood nor stone, you muse, an unprecedented specimen. Whatever their prize was, they kept it in the bowels of the ship – that's where you'll need to search. But first, there's the rest of the journal to skim through. Just a few short entries, mostly innocent accounts of travel. Then... something else.

[2/3]

>>1199221
Did we remember to make sure to always have one person observing the ship so that they can't pull any time fuckery on us?

>>1199221

”Juno has made her lair below deck, at the lowest point, and she refuses to emerge. If she was not direly needed, I would consider her an enemy. Sent a man to negotiate with her, but he did not return. Must consider the worst. When we are in safe waters, she will be disposed of.”

Below deck, you curse, of course she went below deck.

“Boss, I heard something,” Sasha mutters to you, “Don't know where it came from though.”

Head back to the deck, you order, you want him to keep an eye on the Ghoul – just to make sure. As he acknowledges your order and heads off, you look back down to the journal's increasingly doomed entries.

”Disaster! While I slept, the ship ran aground. Crewman on duty claimed ignorance, that he was sailing through open waters. Will have to discipline him later, once the repairs have been made. Rats making the work more difficult, men claiming to see them in unusually large numbers. I don't hear them, but I do hear something else – a heartbeat. Glad that I moved the real prize to the vault. Juno can have the limbs, but the heart WILL be mine!”

Find a map, you order Bohdan, and see if it mentions a vault. Having ordered this, you check the last part of the journal. It's... brief.

”Woken by rats this morning. Gnawing at my toe. Feverish now, dying for sure. Will descend and put Juno down. If I am to die here, she dies as well. None of us will see the Free States again.”

None of that, you mutter to yourself, is even remotely good. As you close the journal and tuck it into your pocket, Bohdan speaks up.

“There is a vault, two levels below deck. Easy trip,” his voice takes on a gleeful note, “I bet that's where the real loot is. Ah, I want to see for myself!”

Quiet down, you warn him, you're trying to think. Scowling hard, you hurry down to the deck and rejoin Sasha. He gives you a grateful smile, nodding down to the Ghoul – it's still there, just where you left it. Escape is just a short way away, but if Saveriu really does have a Giant's heart in his vault...

>Head down to the vault. You can't let this chance slip away
>Get out of here now. It's not worth the risk
>Other

>>1199249
>Head down to the vault. You can't let this chance slip away
"Steel yourselves. Things you might see down there are going to be...strange."

>>1199249
>>Head down to the vault. You can't let this chance slip away
Things are gonna get ugly but it's worth the chance.

>>1199249
>Head down to the vault. You can't let this chance slip away

So Juno probably got pregnant which is what she wanted. And since time is meaningless up here she might've already had the abomination. Just something to be aware of while we are down here.

>>1199249
>Head down to the vault. You can't let this chance slip away
You guys think we should pop beast mode before we head down, so we have a head's up?

You consider the decision for a long moment, slowly tightening your grip on the Orphan's railings until you hear the corroded metal groan beneath you. As much as you hate rats – and you really do hate rats – this is not an opportunity that you can pass up. A Giant's heart is, just as Saveriu wrote, a real prize. Well worth the risk, you say aloud. You voice causes Bodhan and Sasha to glance around at you, and you offer them an attempt at a reassuring smile. They're going to need to steel themselves, you warn them both, things might get a little... strange from this point on.

“I can deal with strange,” Bohdan lies, “So long as the pay is worth it.”

“But you will need someone to keep an eye on things here,” Sasha reminds you, “I volunteer. Looting a vault is not something I care to do.” His expression is guileless, easily telling you the real reason for his hesitation – even without reading Saveriu's journal, he's spooked enough that he dare not go below deck. He's scared enough that the dreadful milk and blood sky above is the better alternative.

He's right, you tell him quietly, you DO need someone to keep an eye on things here. He can be the lookout, and you'll get the prize. It'll be easy.

-

Your flashlight, a heavy-duty thing that Bohdan produced, flickers slightly as you lead the way down the corridor. The sailor follows close behind you, cradling a stubby shotgun as if it was a newborn child. Neither of you talk, but the ship has enough noises for both of you. Between the groan of shifting metal and the overlapping sounds of countless skittering claws, there's always something to keep you from feeling at ease. A rat brushing past you, and then you hear the bang on a boot against metal.

“Got the bastard,” Bohdan hisses, holding up the rat he stamped on, “Not so slick now, you little... oh fuck, look at this little monster.”

With grave reluctance, you turn the flashlight beam around to reveal his trophy. A shade bigger than the average rat, it's a hideous sight even before you notice the... deformities. That it's eyeless is not the worst part. No, the paws are the worst part – those tiny human hands, complete with cracked and filthy fingernails.

“You think I should bring it with me?” Bohdan leers, “Maybe sell it to some Scholar as a curiosity. Might-”

Get rid of it, you tell him coldly, throw the damn thing away.

“If you say so,” the sailor replies with a shrug, throwing the body away into the gloom. As you move on, you could swear that you hear the sound of tiny jaws gnawing on equally tiny bones.

Rats – you hate them. Hate the lot of them.

[1/2]

>>1199314
Might want to keep our focus in the holster for now. The stealth ability might come in handy.

>>1199317
Rats with human hands. Waiting for the birds with dog heads.

>>1199323
I forgot that we have a new ability

>>1199317
> Stealth and use Bogan as bait

>>1199317

The vault door stands ajar, which is never a good sign. It's a heavy lump of metal, and it takes both you and Bohdan to heave it open wide enough for you to enter. Inside, the flashlight beam reveals a sprawling mess of rust and misshapen metal, shelves wilting under their own weight and roof girders dripping like candle wax. The shelves lining both walls are empty, devoid of any treasure – a fact that causes Bohdan to groan with dismay. Ignoring him, you pan the flickering light up the length of the room to find... a hole.

A hole, half melted and half gnawed, right through the deck floor. While Bohdan lingers by the vault door, you cautiously approach the hole and peer down, pointing the flashlight down the hole. Maybe it's not so bad, you mutter to yourself, maybe it's only one deck.

It's not. Your flashlight beam pierces the gloom three decks deep, revealing a tarnished metal box far below. As you watch, the ground moves – a carpet of crippled, deformed rats shifting slowly. They surround the metal case like waves lapping at a rock, blindly clawing at it with their awful paws. Uttering a soft groan of revulsion, you kneel down to get a closer look – the disgust forming a kind of sick fascination, such that you can barely look away.

Then, with a screech of tearing metal, the floor vanishes from beneath your feet.

-

Falling, your entire world becomes a whirl of chaotic motion as you fall through the ragged hole and land – the soft landing you get is a hideous thing – on that churning tide of rats. Somewhere, the flashlight lands and shatters. The rats squeal and scatter from you, the ones that aren't too deformed to move at least, but plenty more rush back in to surround you. In the darkness, you feel them more than you see them, hearing their tiny cries... and something else, something throaty and sinister. A wheezing sound, like laboured breathing.

Slowly, the darkness resolves itself into a silhouette – something upright, bloated and swollen but still bearing the unmistakable shape of something that was once human.

Weapons. You stave off blind horror by reaching for your weapons. Your pistol is gone, but the Birthing Blade – as cold as a shard of ice – is still at your hip.

Exactly where it should be.

>Please suggest a plan of action
>Sorry for the delay, I'll leave this open for ten minutes.

>>1199423
>Stab yourself in the dick.

>>1199423
Go Beast Mode. We can't fight blind and the extra senses will help mitigate that. Also the extra strength and agility helps.

Evade and counterattack. It sounds slow so avoid it's strikes and hit somewhere fatal.

>>1199423
So we have nothing on our person aside from the blade?

Shout to Bohdan, tell him to give you a bloody light.

>>1199433
>>1199423
This

>>1199423
>>1199433
Seconding

>Okay, going to call for a Physical Combat roll, 1D100+20 aiming to beat 70/90. I'll take the highest of the first three results.

Rolled 42 (1d100)

>>1199488

Rolled 82 (1d100)

>>1199488
Get on our feet and keep moving. Don't let the rats latch onto us.

Rolled 19 + 20 (1d100 + 20)

>>1199493
Ya nailed it anon.

You need to see what you're doing, even if you dearly don't want to see that bloated thing really is. You need light, a spare flashlight. Bohdan, you yell up, you need his light down here! When your cry goes unanswered, you spit out a vile curse. He probably broke and ran the minute he saw the floor give way, either presuming you to be dead or not caring enough to check. Either way, the end result is the same – you're on your own.

Letting out a snarl, you reach down into yourself and claim your birthright. As the Wolf's Blood burns within your veins, the darkness lifts to reveal everything. The rats beneath your feet squirm and writhe, driven into a frenzy by your shouts, and their corrupted animal stink invades your senses. The healthy rats leap and squeal, while the deformed cripples flop around the deck beneath your feet. In that first split second, you focus your attention on the rats purely because it's better than the alternative – the sickness that gave birth to them.

Human features are the first thing to catch your eye, although distended and twisted out of shape. The mouth is permanently leering open, a thick rivulet of drool seeping from one corner, but the glossy eyes follow your movements precisely. With a sound like rasping bellows, it draws in a great breath and pushes itself forwards to that it lands on all fours. The hanging stomach, swollen with a terrible litter, almost touches the ground.

Faster than you thought possible, but still lumbering and clumsy, the broodmother throws itself at you in a charge, slavering at the prospect of fresh meat. Kicking away the rats that had moved to pull at your feet, you jink to side and dodge around the shambling charge. As it shifts past you, you slash out with the blade and cut through one rubbery arm. Your blow causes the flabby creature's charge to falter, flopping back down and letting out a thick gasp. The scent of blood – no, something worse than blood – floods you as you reverse your grip on the blade and hammer it home into the back of the monster's skull. Your dagger finds bone, but the soft mushy substance offers only the slightest resistance. By the time you're ripping the blade free, the broodmother is already dead.

Choking back the urge to vomit, a sudden smell of decay assaults you. The creature's body is starting to break down, dissolving into filth, and you don't want to be around to suffer the results. Even if it wasn't for that, you've still got the churning morass of rats to fight against – whenever you pause, they rush back in to nibble at your boots. Kicking a few more away, your gaze finally falls on your pistol, lying where it fell in a distant corner. Pausing only to tuck the metal case, the prize, under one arm, you recover the gun.

And then the smell of blood grows that much worse, that much stronger.

[1/2]

As you turn back, you see the corpse buck and jump, shuddering as the young within it begin to bite and chew and tear themselves free. With a final wet tearing sound, the carcass bursts open under the force of countless ravenous fiends, all vying to feed their mindless hunger. Their first seconds are spend devouring the shredded remains of their mother – and even a few of their weaker siblings – and you do not waste those seconds. Turning on your heel, you sprint away from the newborn rats and head for the exit.

With some of the older rats nipping at your heels, you throw your weight into the door and slam it shut, the strength of your blood allowing you to close it before more than a handful of the ferocious newborns can lunge through. Those that did make it through meet their end under your boot heel, either crushed to death or crippled – you don't care enough to check. Closing your eyes for a split second, you smell the stale air around you in search of any other scents.

They're everywhere, already worming their way into countless ducts and passageways. As you're opening your eyes, one of the little bastards bursts from an overhead pipe and lunges at your face. Crying out with loathing, you bat it aside and throw it against a wall. Taking the hint, you cast aside the thoughts of anything except running – reaching the surface as soon as possible.

-

With the Wolf's Blood boiling within you, running is almost second nature. More than once, you feel some ancient instinct rising up, urging you to drop the metal case and run like a beast, on all fours. Scowling hard at the thought, you tighten your grip instead – all of this would be for nothing if you abandoned the prize now. Even so, those feral urgings haunt you until something cuts through them, a new scent cutting you right to the core. The smell of men, close above you.

>>1199628

“I'm telling you, he fell down there,” a wheedling voice reaches you as you draw close to the surface, whining and protesting, “He's gone, man, there's no point in us waiting here. You heard those noises from down below, right?”

“We wait,” a firmer voice replies, “Or are you-”

A milk and blood sky greets you, and you let out a gasp of relief – your voice causing the pair of men to jolt and turn around. Bohdan pales at the sight of you, taking a faltering step back as you prowl up on deck and approach them. He'd take another step, but then Sasha grabs him firmly by the shoulders and holds him in place as you stalk closer. He refuses to meet your eyes, looking anywhere else, and you feel a rush of anger in reply. You almost kill him then, in that moment, but then the red mist clears.

Carry this, you snap as you roughly shove the case into his hands, you'll let Vas deal with him later.

>I'm going to have to pause here. I'll pick this up tomorrow, although I may have to start a little later.
>Thanks to everyone who contributed today!

>>1199630
Wooooo someone is lucky we didn't take more Beast Mode power-pups.

We're one snarly Doggo!

>>1199630
Thanks for running Moloch. Rat thing died pretty easily, good thing too that place was pretty damn dangerous. Bohdan reacted as expected so not too many hard feelings on my end.

>>1199630
So was the broodmother Juno?

Thanks for running.

>>1199630
I wonder what pushes all those witches to give birth to various abominations. Doesn't seem like a pleasant lifestyle.

>>1199676
Hebona's brainwashing I guess. Hopefully they'll start to get their shit together now that she is dead. Maybe. Probably not.

>>1199660

She was, yes. Not a nice fate!

>>1199676

Some of the more extreme variations of native faith - and, yes, Hebona was largely responsible for them - speak very highly of offering oneself to the northern gods. For some reason, they tend to leave out the bad parts of the deal.

>>1199708
So who actually benefited from Juno turning into a mutant rat spawner?

>>1199775
yes

>>1199775
No one on the Orphan that's for sure.

Maybe us in a warped sense since we were able to get their prize without the entire crew to deal with.

>>1199630
>Heavy risk, but the prize.png

>>1199927
If it's actually useful yes. And not somehow corrupted.

Or if we don't get arrested for having it or something. I imagine people would be interested in our trip north, especially after our involvement in all the sketchy shit that went down.

We really should have come up with some sort of cover story. Like going to visit/help out Camilla, and then proceeding North to "look for the root of the conspiracy".

Too late now I suppose.

Maybe we can pretend whatever we got was useless and we need to track the Orphan. Then we can "give up" and return to try again with "more preparation" and see if anyone approaches us.

Amazing session as always Moloch. Thanks!

Lying back on your bed, in one of the Ghoul's cabins, you try not to think about the Orphan and what you saw in its guts. The rats never did follow you up on deck, and you can easily imagine them turning on each other to feed that monstrous hunger. With nothing to birth fresh generations of the little abominations, however, that final brood will be the last – when they have devoured each other, there will be none left. The world, you think, will be a better place for it.

Opening your eyes with a heavy sigh, you abandon your attempt at sleep and settle for doing something productive instead. Taking Saveriu's journal out of your coat, you idly flick through the pages in search of something to distract you. A description of the Garden of Giants would be good, but you'd take anything. What you do find, though, only makes things worse. Flipping from one page to another, an old and faded photograph falls out. The picture shows a number of men and a single woman, with the Orphan looming in the background. In the centre, next to a lushly dressed man who you take to be Captain Saveriu van Wieren, you spot a hideously familiar face. While it is true that her face was distorted and mutated when you last saw her, you nevertheless recognise the witch Juno.

The red moon of the north changed her, just as it changes everyone it touches.

-

“I hear that Bohdan left you in the lurch,” Vas says wearily, setting a cup of hot tea down next to you, “Ran out on you, right when you needed him.”

Well, you reply after a while, there wasn't much that he could have done to help you. As furious as you felt at the time, you're not going to hold much of a grudge against him – you made it out without any real injury, after all, just a few scrapes and scratches.

“I'll admit, I'm glad to hear that. I'm not excusing him for what he did, but...” Vas pauses, sipping from his own cup of tea, “He's got a family back in Port Steyr. Something like that, it changes a man's priorities – gives him a damn good reason to come back in one piece.” A silence falls over the room as you both think your own thoughts. “Does it do what it's supposed to do?” Vas asks suddenly, “This... Giant's blood?”

He knows about it?

“Heard a rumour from a barman, who heard it from a sailor – one of them who went north before, up to the Old University. They say that Giant's Blood is a cure for damn near everything,” looking down into his teacup, Vas pauses, “Is it?”

Can't say, you reply quietly, you've only really got stories yourself. You damn well want to find out for yourself, though. If it does what the stories say...

“Yeah,” Vas gives you a bitter smile, “You could ask any price in the land for it, and I wager you could find a buyer.”

[1/3]

>>1202594

After Vas returns to his duties, you take the metal case out from where you left it – or where you hid it, to use the less charitable term. Looking back, you're not sure why you concealed it behind your own luggage, it was just... instinct. It seemed like the natural thing to do. Grimacing at the irrational possessiveness, you fumble with the case's lock and open the lid.

Strangely unimpressive, the withered thing that lies in the metal case is only slightly bigger than a human heart, although its leathery exterior looks far hardier than any human organ. Dried, dessicated and apparently bloodless, it's hard to imagine the heart as having any value at all but you know better than that. If even a single drop of blood remains within, the heart is a priceless specimen. Driven by curiosity, you slowly reach out to touch it when...

A firm knock at the door causes you to jolt up, slamming the case closed and locking it. A moment later, the door opens to reveal one of the crewmen. “Sir!” he cries, “Captain wants to see you, it's urgent!.”

Tucking the box back into its makeshift hiding place, you give the crewman a firm nod.

-

The red moon is high and bright now, filling the sky and casting its baleful light down upon you. The ocean, meanwhile, has become rough indeed, pulling and tugging at the Ghoul as it struggles forwards. On the horizon, a great whirlpool howls and churns the water around it into foam. The longer you look at the whirlpool, the more the foam starts to resemble a constantly shifting canvas of faces. Tearing your eyes away, you fight your way to the Ghoul's helm. As you do, your hand falls to the dagger at your hip.

It's faintly warm, a slight and indecisive warmth.

Pulling your hand away as if you'd been scalded, you look back to the churning whirlpool for a long moment. It's only when Vas bellows your name that you're able to pull yourself away from it once again, hurrying to join him at the ship's controls.

“Going to be rough from here out!” he yells, sparing you only a passing glance, “I tried keeping a safe distance, but it seems like that monstrosity had other ideas – doesn't matter where I steered us to, we've been drawn right to it.”

“I keep telling you, captain, that's impossible!” a bespectacled crewman, probably an assistant navigator, yells out, “There must be some mistake!”

“Impossible?” Vas repeats, laughing boldly, “We'll see about that – Henryk, hold onto something, I'll take us through this!”

A massive wave buffets the Ghoul as he says this, washing away your reply in a crushing roar of water. All thoughts of your dagger are blasted away from your mind, replaced by a desperate survival instinct. Just as Vas ordered, you grab something solid and hold on tight – as if your life depended on it.

[2/3]

>>1202596

Even if the ship's clocks had been working fine, it would have been impossible to tell how long the ordeal lasts. The Ghoul is tossed about like a leaf in a storm, inextricably pulled closer to the howling whirlpool that is Ghruul's Eye. In the fleeting moments where you can look out a window, you see ruined ships of all kinds – more modern vessels, as well as ancient things with tall masts and ragged sails – scattered through the water. When you look back, they're not always there, as if they had been mere phantoms.

Throughout it all, Vas laughs madly and skilfully guides the Ghoul through the worst of it. Time and time again, you sense disaster looming, only for the captain's peerless skill to pull victory from the jaws of defeat. Slowly but surely, the ocean's rage begins to subside as you leave the worst of it all behind you.

When the waters calm once more, you let out a slow sigh of relief. It takes a moment more for Vas to stop laughing.

-

As the Ghoul coasts along on the placid waters – the rage of the storm seems like a distant memory now – you emerge out onto the deck. Your blade has cooled now, turning cold and dead. In the distance, slowly getting closer, you can see an island. The Garden of Giants, you're sure of it.

“I'll never forget that, as long as I live,” Vas announces, joining you to look out at the approaching island, “That's it, is it? Doesn't look like much from here, I must say.”

You'll know more when you make landfall, you reply, and get the chance to see it up close.

“Aye, well, I think the crew would be glad for some solid ground beneath their feet,” the captain grunts, “Got a small problem, though. That storm left us in need of some repairs, we had to put the engine under some serious stress to make it through. It's going to be all hands on deck to get us back in working order.”

It's going to take all of his men?

“Could do. I might be able to get the job done with a skeleton crew, if you wanted to take a few men inland with you,” Vas considers the issue, “But... it might have to be a rush job. What do you think?”

>You focus on the repairs, I'll head inland on my own
>A rush job will have to do, I want some good men at my back
>I'm willing to wait until the repairs are finished, then I can lead a team inland
>Other

>>1202599
>I'm willing to wait until the repairs are finished, then I can lead a team inland though

>>1202599
>>You focus on the repairs, I'll head inland on my own
We can scout things out and if things look bad or like we need a team, just come back for some folks. Also quite scared at how we're gonna fight a whirlpool. Maybe just toss a bunch of grenades at it?

>>1202607
also a good idea to scout alone

>>1202599
>You focus on the repairs, I'll head inland on my own

So either there is a great beast in the Whirlpool or maybe Nihilo is down there.

>>1202623
Interesting thought. I just thought of some big whale thing being under the whirlpool that we'd have to either jump into to fight, or blow if away from afar with grenades.

You hold your tongue for a moment, listening to the Ghoul's engine before making your decision. It's still running, which is something, but there's a disturbing whine to it – the sound of a machine that has been pushed too hard, for too long. You don't know all that much about engines or ships, but you know trouble when you hear it. A rush job might get the engines working again, but for how long?

No, you decide aloud, you'll let Vas and the crew focus on the repairs while you head inland. A little scouting ahead can't hurt, and you'll be happier to know what you're getting into.

“Aye? What if you run into trouble out there?” Vas asks, “I figure I don't need to tell you this, but these are uncertain waters we're in. You might meet something out there that doesn't care for guests.”

If that happens, you reply with a faint smile, you'll head back to the ship and regroup. Once the repairs are finished, you can lead in a team to take care of the problem. It's not the most complicated plan in the world, but it should work. What could go wrong?

“Right,” Vas laughs humourlessly, “Other than “absolutely everything”, you mean?”

Other than that, you agree.

-

With the Ghoul running on fumes, you have plenty of time to kill before reaching dry land. Some of that time, you spent flicking through the journal again. Saveriu wasn't one to focus on describing his explorations, it seems, and so his account of the Garden is meagre at best. The trees were like nothing his crew had ever seen, the journal notes, and the men often complained about feeling uneasy. The witch, Juno, spent a great deal of time alone, but Saveriu avoids any speculation of what she could have been doing.

Not much to go on, but that's fine – you'll see the island for yourself, soon enough.

-

Limping to shore, the Ghoul quietly butts up against the beach and disgorges the bustling crew. Carrying an even mix of tools and rifles, they get to work either examining the ship or guarding it. The beach is an ugly thing, all gravel and chips of ice, and the stones shift with every step you take. There's nothing unnatural about it, but in your unnerved state it's easy to picture the beach as a living thing, shuddering at the footsteps across it's skin.

The gravel beach is about the only natural looking thing you can see. Looking inland, you the first of the “trees” that Saveriu wrote about. The word is a poor fit, with the trees looking more akin to overgrown fungi than anything else. Bloated and swollen, they loom up to form an archway, flanking a roughly beaten path that leads further inland.

As you check the Maus rifle over and take the first step along that path, you glance up at that fungoid archway. The fact that it could easily allow someone twice your size to pass through does not go unnoticed.

[1/2]

>>1202631
wait, so are they bloated trees that resemble fungi, or really, really big mushrooms?

>>1202634

>I'd say the latter. They're more like giant mushrooms than anything else

>>1202637
We should cut a bit and grill it for food. WHAT COULD POSSIBLY GO WRONG

>>1202638
>going on a trip
>in unknown lands
>with moon fuckery already giving hallucinations
Sounds like a great idea!

>>1202637
Fuck we are in Morrowind

>>1202631

The fungus trees block out much of the blood-red moonlight, but just enough slips through that you can see where you're going. Sound doesn't seem to penetrate far here, with the sounds of the Ghoul's repairs first muffled and then snuffed out completely within a matter of paces. Touching your hip, you feel a faint warmth from the dagger once again, but not like the warmth you felt during the storm. There's nothing uncertain about it now – there IS prey here, even if it's still distant.

Resting the rifle in the crook of your shoulder, you move cautiously forwards along the path, ready to seek cover in the fungi at the first sign of trouble. At one point, you stop and touch one of those fungoid masses, shuddering at the slight mushiness. Drawing your knife, you carve off a thin sliver of the flesh, causing a thick, clear sap to ooze out. No smell at all – a fact that you're quietly grateful for. Letting the slice of flesh fall, you wipe your hand on your trousers and move on.

Ahead, the light pools around a small clearing, a single tree looming out the centre of it. Prowling around the edge of the clearing, you study that tree from all angles before approaching it.

It's different, not like the fungi you've seen so far. The outside of it looks coarse like bark, albeit petrified by uncountable years, while the fungi have a loathsome fleshiness to them. Likewise, this one has a pair of thick branches reaching up towards the sky, although there isn't a leaf in sight. Near the top, the bark has... markings on it. Not exactly a face, but something that carries the impression of a face. Dents that could have been eyes, and a lower indent that yawns like an inhumanly wide mouth.

Further down, you see the remnant of a long-forgotten violence, a hole punched through the surface of the tree. Judging by the way the hole is caved inwards, the blow couldn't have come from within. Something far taller than any man pierced the tree, pushing into it with brutal strength.

Looking up at that tree, you feel... something strange, something that tugs at you. At first, you mistake it for one of Artemis' calls, but it's not quite that. It's similar, but not exactly the same thing. Slowly, involuntarily, you reach up to touch the tree before pausing. Frozen in the air, your hand wavers slightly.

>Let yourself touch the tree
>Resist the urge to touch the tree. Keep moving forwards
>Other

>>1202650
>>Resist the urge to touch the tree. Keep moving forwards
Seems like a giant, would rather have agroup around in case this wakes it up.

>>1202650
>>Let yourself touch the tree
Steel yourself

>>1202650
>>Let yourself touch the tree

>>1202650
>Let yourself touch the tree
ahhhh screw it, let's talk to the giant

>>1202650
>>1202650
>Other

TRY to call out to the protection spirt.

>>1202650
>Let yourself touch the tree
but be on guard

This thing, this tree, could be one of them, one of the ancient Giants. The more you look at it, the more certain of that you become – one of those primordial creatures, having fallen into stasis and taken the form of a tree. The fungoid masses you passed earlier were anomalies, just one more strangeness to be found in a strange land, but this is the real thing.

And yet, that hole punched through it – roughly where the chest would be, if the tree was a man...

Revelle, you murmur aloud, anything she can tell you about this? You ask the question in vain hope of getting an answer, even though you don't have a drop of mazka in you. This is no place to be drunk on the job, even if that means cutting yourself off from your spirit. Still, it's worth asking – this is a place where logic and reason part ways, after all, maybe she'll be able to reach you regardless.

And perhaps she does, or perhaps it's just a trick of your imagination. Whichever one it is, you feel a faint warmth at the back of your mind – almost a confirmation, as if it's safe to go ahead. Taking it as a sign, you make up your mind and take the plunge.

Gritting your teeth and steeling yourself for whatever might happen, you give in to the ephemeral tugging and lay your palm flat against the tree. When your eyes drift shut, it was not your decision to do so. You feel...

Weight. A tremendous weight pulling at your limbs, and a tremendous strength that fights the weight. As ponderous as a mountain that learned to walk, you stride through the fungoid masses, barely noticing as you carve a path through them. Aimless hatred fills your mind like a swarm of buzzing flies, a feeling that is at once novel and awful. You've never felt anything like it, a desire to rend flesh and kill without purpose. A beast's desire, something you've felt ever since...

You walk, and a clearing emerges before you. One of your kin sleeps there, having long since turned their back on this world. Seeing that, that show of weakness, you feel that alien hatred thicken within you and blanket your thoughts. Striding forwards, you raise your hand against your kin, punching forwards and into it. Beneath the thick crust of wood, your hand closes around something warm and vital, something that pulses with carefully guarded blood. The heart.

Though some small part of you cries out in protest, you feel your hand closing in a tight fist. There is a brief moment of resistance, and then the heart is crushed. Hot blood flows out over your hand, and the beast within you is sated... for now. Pulling your bloodied hand free, you turn and lumber away to the northern tip of the island.

[1/2]

>>1202697

>>1202697
is the thing in the case actually not a heart, then?

and what about the tree back in artemis' temple, is there a heart in that?

>>1202714
Tree in temple wasn't a giant, don't think. Thing in case was a heart, just a dried up on.

>>1202719
I mean that the giant's heart was crushed, so maybe the one in the case isn't a giant's.

or there are more trees further ahead, I guess.

>>1202714
Art said the thing in the Temple wasn't a Giant.

>is the thing in the case actually not a heart, then?
I think it is, just this is why it's withered and bloodless. Also the Orphan crew could have found another Giant Tree potentially.

>>1202714

>Yes, I should clarify - the prize in the case IS a Giant's heart, it just came from a different body. The crew found a different Giant, and brought the entire body back with them. The limbs were lost, but we were able to recover the heart.
>Additionally, I will confirm that the tree back at Artemis' temple is not a Giant.

>>1202731
I am unable to post images in this thread? Intentional on your part?

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>>1202764
QMs can't control that anon.

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>>1202764
you can't?

>>1202764

>No, I'm afraid I don't know anything about that. It could be a problem with the site, there have been issues lately. Other than that, I'm not sure what the problem could be, sorry.

>>1202697

The dream, memory, illusion... it breaks. Whatever it was, it breaks.

Pulling your hand away sharply, as soon as you have control over your own body, you let out a a hushed gasp. For a moment, countless emotions all swirl through your mind, emotions that you know are not your own – guilt, sick satisfaction, a ghost of that baseless hatred, all manner of things. They don't last long, fading almost as soon as you realise they're there, but they leave you shaken.

North, you say aloud, it went north... if directions apply in this uncanny place. Hearing your own voice is a comfort – confirmation that you're still yourself. Wiping your hand again, barely noticing it this time, you take a moment to get your bearings before heading into back into the fungoid forest.

With the newfound sense of walking through a graveyard, you emerge from the fungoid masses to find a new clearing, this one dominated on one side by a broken outcrop of land, bare rock that pushes up towards the sky. Most of it is jagged and uneven, but one section is smoother than all the rest – as if some vast and infinitely patient hand chipped away at the rock to create a canvas. Upon that blank space, a crude – but also strangely grand – mural has been painted. Twelve figures are painted, recognisable as men in only the roughest possible sense. Feeling more awe than fear, you study the mural for a while longer and let the details unfold before you.

One of the figures is a stooped cripple, drawn with a bent spine and uneven limbs, while another is hulking. Obese figures, sly figures, even one with an air of nobility about it... they're all there. Even though the art is simplistic, the intended meaning shines through. These are the Knights, you realise, the original twelve. The mural feels respectful, in a strange way, like it was made to honour their memory.

Or perhaps not. Perhaps you're reading too much into it, looking at it through the eyes of a man.

>I'm going to have to pause here briefly, I've got a bit of family business to take care of. With luck, it shouldn't be too much of a delay. Your patience is appreciated!

>Back now, should have the next post up soon-ish. Might have to finish a little earlier than planned today, I'll see how I'm feeling later. Sorry about this, real life isn't cooperating today.

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A new wind comes in a rush, a low groan that echoes down from the northern tip of the island and carries with it the dank scent of old stone. It smells like a cave, you think, some deep chasm that has never felt the sun's warmth. Not that anything here has ever seen the sun – in this cold northern land, the moon holds court over all.

Then the wind blows again, and you realise that it was not wind at all – it was the breath of some great and terrible being.

You've found your prey, and touching a hand to your dagger – hot now, far hotter than it's been in a long while – only confirms that suspicion. Shouldering the Maus rifle, you put one careful foot in front of the other and continue along the barren path. While you had been moving through it, the fungoid forest had felt cloying and claustrophobic, but now you find yourself missing the cover it had to offer you. Out here, you feel like you're walking along a mountain path, with nothing to hide you from hungry eyes.

Another rush of breath blows down to meet you, this time close enough to tug at your clothes and hair. Rounding the corner, you finally come face to face with the source of that rasping breath – a looming form, crouching on one knee and almost perfectly motionless. With its hideous face and yawning, deformed cave of a mouth, with its almost skeletal lower half and the moss clinging to its shoulders, with every fresh abnormality that you can see, you realise the depths of corruption that this creature has sunk to. A tainted, tormented and utterly inhuman mockery of life, the Giant is not a sight that you could have hoped to prepare yourself for.

Like a mountain coming to life, it rises. Easily more than twice your size, the Giant takes a stilted step forwards and clenches its fists, going through the motions as if testing out a body unused for countless years. A low and wordless moan escapes its cavernous mouth, deep enough to set your bones trembling, and then its face turns your way.

You remember that hatred and malice you dreamed of, but now you're the one of the receiving end of it. With slow and thunderous steps, the Giant begins to close the gap between you. Biting back a wave of primal fear, you ready the Maus rifle and prepare yourself.

>Please suggest a course of action
>I'll leave this open for ten minutes, then start writing.

>>1202977
Oooh no, this is scary.

I want to take a shot at the spine if it's visible like in the image. Have this weird feeling that going for a headshot wouldn't work out

>>1202977
Maus shot to the knee to slow it and then run into the fungus forest. Hit and run.

>>1202977
its weakness is its hearth so aim for the chest maybe? also keep distance, don't underestimate its speed

>>1203006
This, can't risk fighting one on one

>>1203008
The heart is our prize unfortunately so try to stay away from damaging it.

>>1203006
>>1203011

>Going with this. Writing now

Might want to try to lure it to the ship and simply harpoon the sucker

>>1203019
well, a heart. this one is obviously corrupted. might not be wise to use it

>>1203025
Just to clarify this isn't a Great Beast correct? Just one focus point to work with?

>>1203027
That's the idea I was thinking of. Hinder it's movement, get into the forest, pop stealth ability, keep hit and running back to the ship.

>>1203030
You might be correct. Still it might be worth taking a sample. Not for use but study and comparisons to other hearts we may find.

>>1203038
one of the beast was a gaint?
or at lest one of them got the 12 together for the hunt

>>1203038

>Oh, right. I should clarify. This IS one of the Great Beasts, so we've got a bonus point of Focus. I meant to include it in the last post, but it slipped my mind. Thanks for reminding me, I'll mention it IC next post.

>>1203047
Gotcha. Well if this is Nemesis then we are going to have to apologize to Artemis. There is no way we can take this thing down without it suffering.

>>1203047
weren't the giants alive before artemis was murdered? how can a knight be reborn into a creature that was alive during their first live? or are new giants born all the time?

>>1203057
There was a giant with the group that killed Artemis.

This guy hasn't been killed since then.

>>1203057

>We'll get the chance to learn a little more about it later, but >>1203063 is essentially correct.

>>1203071
>>1203063
ok thanks, thought it was just the knights

As the Giant lumbers into motion, the Birthing Blade at your hip flares into life and heat, burning like a hot coal and offering you the promise of new strength. This is it – the Nemesis Knight, Artemis' tenth great beast.

Prey.

Through its steps begin slowly, you can sense a great power within the Giant just waiting to be released, like a coiled spring ready to burst into motion. You can't afford to underestimate this monster's speed, or face it in a fair fight. Lure it into the forest, let the cover work to your advantage.

That's the plan, at least. First, you want to slow it down a little. Hastily back peddling, you take a brief moment to make sure that the Giant is following you before sighting down the length of the Maus rifle. Drawing a bead on the Giant's knee, you squeeze the trigger and feel the rifle punch back against your shoulder. A normal bullet would have troubled the Giant no more than a raindrop, but the heavy rifle causes it, at least, to stagger. It stumbles mid-step, slumping forwards and slamming one clenched fist down into the ground, hard enough to crack the stone. You've bought yourself a little time, and you're not about to waste that.

As the Giant heaves itself back to its feet, you turn on your heel and run, sprinting back towards the cover of the forest. You don't need to look back – the Giant's thundering footsteps are enough to tell you that it's following close behind you. The Giant slows as you enter the gloomy forest, another low moan slipping out as you duck into the cover of a fat, fleshy mushroom. Breathing heavily, you load a new round into the Maus rifle.

And then you wait. Slower now, the Giant enters the forest, prowling in a way that belies its vast size. It's only a matter of time before it finds you.

>Now what?
>Again, I'll leave this open for ten minutes.

File: 1468835241656.png (843 KB, 1000x1000)

843 KB PNG

>>1203096
>Now what?
Use Furtive's Stealth ability, get a little ahead of it, take another shot at the other knee, then reposition closer to the ship.

They'll hear our gunshots and hopefully be prepared.

>>1203103
get behind it and shot the ame knee but from behind so it drops then jump onto its back to stabb in neack/ spian
we going to ride this badboy

>>1203096
Shoot it's knee

>>1203096
Go back to, and through, the clearing, hide and line up a shot once it has broken through the trees.

Just put a bullet right in its head, why are we fucking around? If cutting off his head will kill it just blow its brains out.

>>1203103
>>1203115
I can revise this to shooting it in the head. At least see what impact it does.

>>1203112
High risk, little reward. A gunshot to the head will do more than a knife.

>>1203096
We might have to lure the giant back to the Ghoul and hit him with a grenade harpoon. I'd rather avoid that but if the maus only dented it I dunno what else we can use.

>>1203122
First let's see what a headshot can do, I'm not confident that we can outpace it all the way back to the ship and have enough time to prepare the harpoon without slowing it down more.

>>1203123
>have enough time to prepare the harpoon without slowing it down more.

I'm banking on the fact that they are hearing the Maus fire closer and closer to them that they'll be prepared the moment we get to the shore.

>>1203129
Do we even know where the harpoon is mounted? I mean it might not be able to get a shot at all, but that would be a real fucking dick move

>>1203134
>Do we even know where the harpoon is mounted?

I don't know. Do you even know which way the ship is facing? Pham if this plan was completely unfeasible and Henryk knew it Moloch would say something.

I'm putting my money on Vas's competence.

>>1203115
>>1203121
>>1203123

The first shot didn't even cripple it.

Shoot the knee again and finish slowing it.

>>1203134
That would suck but it would be something Henryk would know so Moloch could just say that wouldn't work before even trying it. But I agree if we even fall back in the first place we'll have to slow it down with potshots to the head and knees.

And the crew might hear the shots and ready the harpoon gun but now I'm worried about the noise stifling we noticed when first entering the mushroom woods would interfere. So I dunno let's call it plan B.

>>1203121
>>1203103
aim for the head would be hard when it can move and come after us,
distory its walking and hten we can line up headshot with fear of it getting us, or lead it back to the ship and harpon it>>1203140
>>1203134
it should be mounted at the front of the ship

>>1203096
>Stay ahead of it and take potshots at the knee

>>1203096
shoot the knee again and prepare to dodge if it charges. it might actually be fast but something with that mass has a lot of momentum

Bit late here but I think trying to take down the knee would be good, then we can take a shot at the head and see what happens.

Moloch's internet got him again I think.

>>1203255

>It's not my internet. I was the one that crashed this time, I'm afraid.

>I apologise for the delay, I'm having a few issues with writing the next post. Currently, the plan I've been working with is as follows:
>Use our Furtive power to aid in avoiding the Giant
>Lure it out to the clearing to get a clear shot. Aim for the head if possible, the injured knee if not.
>If that fails, draw it out to the beach and use the harpoon gun

>Would this be an acceptable plan?

>>1203284
Works for me.

>>1203284
Yeah, sounds good

>>1203284
Sure thing.

>>1203284
yup

>>1203284
no prob

>>1203284
Do it

>Thank you everyone, I'm sorry about making a tremendous mess of this. I should have the next post ready fairly soon.

Tightening your grip on the rifle, you hold your breath and listen for the next footstep, for an idea of where the Giant might be. When you hear nothing, you realise that the damn thing has the same idea as you – wait in silence, and hope that the other makes a mistake. Smiling grimly to yourself, you start to head back to the clearing. With luck, you can get a better line of sight there, maybe see if any of the fungus “trees” are trembling. It's better than-

The world explodes around you, a great sweeping blow from the Giant tearing through the forest and gouging a channel through the ground. Thrown from your feet amidst a rain of stagnant soil, you land heavily and roll to a stop, old wounds crying out in pain. How it heard you, sensed you, you couldn't even begin to guess, but that doesn't matter now. You need to get the hell out of here before you can think about that, put some distance between the two of you. Throwing yourself to your feet, you run madly through the forest, dodging between trees as you go. When your head stops spinning, you flatten yourself against the closest tree and focus. Steadying your nerves, you feel your thoughts gathering around a single concept – not being seen.

>Furtive Veil activated. Focus remaining: 1

Shifting your weight as you go, you move swiftly and silently through the trees, slipping around them and heading for the clearing. When you see light ahead of you, you allow a trace of noise to return to your steps, sprinting from one side of it to the other and then falling silent once more. Drawn by your footsteps, you watch as the Giant thunders closer, entering the clearing and pausing, head slowly turning as it searches for you. When it's gaze falls upon the slain Giant, it almost seems to... hesitate.

Frozen in place for a moment, the Giant slowly reaches out a hand to touch the tree. As its attention wavers, you settle the rifle's sights over the great lumpen skull and squeeze the trigger. Once again, the recoil punches at your shoulder, while the shot knocks the Giant off-balance. Its head is wrenched around by the bullet's impact, a scattering of bone – or something like it – flying out from the wound. With a tremendous bellow that seems to shake the ground beneath your feet, the Giant swings bodily around, long arms tearing through the ground and smashing the tree, its former kin, apart. Roaring again and again, its voice like a siren, the Giant flies into a mindless rage – rage that is soon turned the direction of your shot.

Time to leave.

[1/2]

>>1203394

Slipping from cover to cover, tree to tree, you make sure to never let the Giant learn exactly where you are. It barely needs the help in tracking you down, with its rage fuelling a path of destruction through the forest. Even if it never realised where you were, a stray blow could crush you to pulp in an instant. All you can do right now is keep out of reach and figure out a way to deal the killing blow.

As you draw closer to the beach, an idea springs – fully formed – to your mind. The harpoon gun, Vas' pride and joy, should be enough to do the trick... so long as it wasn't damaged in the storm. It looked fine when you left, but these things can be finicky. Even if it's working perfectly fine, it might not be loaded. There are a thousand things that could go wrong.

You'll just need to buy yourself, and Vas, as much time as possible. Turning back towards the rampaging Giant and digging your heels in, you slam a new round into the Maus and draw a bead on the Giant's leg, the same knee that you injured before. Firing off the shot as quickly as you dare, you don't wait for a moment longer than necessary. As soon as you see the Giant stumble, you turn and sprint for the beach. Stealth goes forgotten, abandoned in favour of simple speed.

Vas, you yell as soon as you burst out of the forest, get a grenade round ready! Get that gun working, and prepare to fire!

“What?” Vas shouts back, nevertheless moving to slam a long harpoon into the gun and take the controls, “Fire at-”

“Fire at what?” he almost said, but the Giant's arrival renders his question pointless. Spluttering out a curse, Vas pivots the gun up and takes aim – as carefully as he can, given how quickly the Giant approaches. As the crew panic and scatter, Vas fires. The harpoon flies high and true, exploding into a cloud of dust and smoke. Your ears ring, the blast leaving you stunned for a moment as the dust cloud clears. Standing, wavering in place, the Giant – beheaded by the potent explosive - pauses for a moment before slowly tumbling down to the ground.

“There you go then!” Vas roars, breaking the sudden silence, “Easy enough, this hunting thing!”

>I'm going to leave things here. I'll pick things up on Monday, hopefully.
>Thank you for your patience today, I'm very grateful

Rolled 65 (1d100)

>>1203405
nice plan, but would have liked to roll on this
also i guse we are taking its hart

>>1203405
Yo we just killed what might've been the last giant. We're taking a trophy right? Other than the blood samples from the heart.

Thanks for running Moloch

>>1203405
Vas better earn the title of honorary wolf.

>>1203405
>“Easy enough, this hunting thing!”
Vas is so good, that last paragraph was great. Thanks for running Moloch, was some good fun.

>>1203405
thanks for running moloch!

>>1203405
Vas, the perfect friend

>>1203405
We're so lucky Vas didn't aim at the chest.

>>1203405
>“Easy enough, this hunting thing!”
cheeky fucker, he's earning ALL his tavern stories.

Even now that it is headless, the crew seem reluctant to trust the dead Giant, circling cautiously about it like birds tempted by a fresh, yet possibly poisonous carcass. The way they look at it, they almost seem to expect it to spring back to life at any minute.

The worst thing is, you can't entirely blame them for their fears. Can you really say, with absolute certainty, that the Giant might not have some miraculous – or blasphemous – powers of regeneration? True, the Birthing Blade has grown cool to the touch once again, but even that is something you're unwilling to take as a promise. No, it's only when the great creature's heart is laid out before you that you can be sure of anything, and so you raise your voice to call out fresh orders to the men. Get that thing turned over, you shout, roll it onto its back!

“Aye, you heard the man,” Vas adds, “Get to work, you're not being paid to sit around and stare!”

At his command, the listless men finally snap back to reality and leap into action – although perhaps that would be somewhat exaggerating their enthusiasm. Either way, a number of the stronger men working in tandem is enough to roll the Giant's corpse over, so that it lies on its back with the chest bathed in that blood-red moonlight. From his position at the harpoon gun, a fresh grenade loaded just in case, Vas purses his lips in thought.

“Bloody ugly thing, isn't it?” he muses, “Never seen the like before, and do you know what, Henryk? I don't think I ever will again. Something like that, it seems like it should be one of a kind.”

One of a kind, you echo, and now it's dead – more than dead, destroyed.

“A Hunter feeling pity for his prey,” Vas thinks aloud, watching his men work, “Whatever next?”

The moonlight must be doing strange things to you, you reply wryly, that's all it is. Unique or not, a beast is a beast while a Hunter is a Hunter – that's just how the world works. Speaking of that, you tell Vas with a faint smile, he made for a pretty good Hunter himself with that shot. Enough to make him an honorary Wolf, as far as you're concerned.

“It WAS a good shot, wasn't it? Here, I'll let you in on a little secret,” gesturing for you to get a little closer, Vas lowers his voice. “Blind bloody luck,” he admits, “I don't think I could pull that off again if I tried.”

Not, you consider, the most reassuring thing you've ever heard.

-

Once cautious, the Ghoul's crew now circle the Giant's corpse with more brazen steps, emboldened by the lack of any reaction. A few of them have drawn knives or hatchets, hacking and sawing at the corpse to take trophies, small mementoes of this unique triumph. Technically illegal, you consider, for unqualified men to handle a corpse like that... but the Ministry doesn't need to know.

[1/2]

>>1212415

At your command, the crewmen draw back from the carcass and step away, leaving it for you to take whatever trophies you wish. Rather than waste time with strips of flesh or other meagre prize, you go straight for the heart. Pulling on a pair of heavy gloves, you press a hand to the Giant's chest and feel the leathery hide. It's firm and unyielding, like a skin drawn tight against solid bone. Your dagger serves to peel back the hide, but the thick crest of bone beneath – a single piece, with no individual ribs – defeats you. Frowning, you send for a hammer and chisel.

Blow after blow, you chip away at the crest of bone until a long crack runs down the length of the Giant's sternum. Easing your fingers into that opening, you pull hard until you feel something give. Bone cracks, and with one last exertion the heart lies exposed. Larger than the one you found in the Orphan, and with a definite wet look to it, you can already smell the blood waiting within the heart. Strangely, the heart is the only thing within the Giant's cavernous body – no other organs or means of life can be seen.

Taking the syringe you borrowed from Solberg, you push the hollow needle into the Giant's heart and draw back the plunger, a grimly victorious hiss escaping you as you see dark red blood gushing out into the body of the syringe. Men would do anything for this prize, and now here it is – in your grasp.

Now you just need to get it home safely.

-

A little over four pints in all – a strangely small amount, for how vast the Giant's body was. After you were finished draining the heart, the Ghoul's crew made a few half-hearted attempts at getting a little more blood from the Giant, cutting and hacking into its limbs in hope of finding some more. No matter where they cut, or how deep they go, their search is a futile one. After a while, the sight of them hacking at the corpse leaves a sick taste in your mouth, and so you start to turn away.

Before leaving them to their butchery, you saw off one of the Giant's long fingers and slip it into your pocket. A trophy, you decide, for your collection.

-

“The Ghoul is fit and ready,” Vas tells you, “I've had her checked twice over, she won't fail us when the time comes.”

Glad to hear it, you reply, so he's ready to leave?

“Well...” Vas frowns a little, “Seems a waste to leave so soon, considering that we might never come here again. I wouldn't mind taking a little look around before heading back south.”

Really, you ask, what happened to those second thoughts he'd been having?

“We're here now,” shrugging, Vas looks inland, “I might as well get a few good tales to take home with me. Not much of an adventure if all I see is a damn beach, is it?”

>Vas, we're not here for sightseeing. We should leave before we really push our luck
>Hell, you're right. No harm in exploring a little
>Other

>>1212416
>Hell, you're right. No harm in exploring a little
Shouldn't we find a Giant tree and extract blood from that one too? The one we killed was corrupted for years. Did that have any effect on its blood or is it's properties universal regardless of the Giant?

>>1212415
>Blind bloody luck
>it was just Vas rolling a nat 100

>>1212416
>>Hell, you're right. No harm in exploring a little
We got some experience and should be a bit more prepared to fight things if anything pops up. We really should explore a lot of the Garden anyway, see what else lies hidden here.

>>1212416
>>Hell, you're right. No harm in exploring a little
what coukd possibly go wrong?

>>1212416
>>Hell, you're right. No harm in exploring a little

>>1212416
>Hell, you're right. No harm in exploring a little
we should see about finding uncorrupted blood.

>>1212416
Maybe it is because he's so far north, but Henryk wasn't pulled into Nihilo after killing the Great Beast.

>>1212416
>Hell, you're right. No harm in exploring a little

>>1212432
Her calls vary. Sometimes it's immediately right after the kill, sometimes it's when we have some downtime.

Hell, you decide, he's right – there's no harm in exploring a little. You weren't exactly free to do and see whatever you liked before, but perhaps now you can indulge your curiosity a little. Who knows, maybe you can find something useful in those thick fungal growths – another Giant, perhaps still in their deep and ancient sleep.

“Excellent!” Vas claps his hands together, nodding briskly, “I'll organise the men into some kind of order, set up a watch so the ship never goes unguarded. It doesn't pay to be careless with our ticket out of here, does it?”

No, you agree, that would be... foolish. You just need to stow away this syringe, and its precious contents, and then you can join him.

-

Slowly, ever so careful as not to spill a single drop, you start to empty the syringe into a metal flask for secure transport. It's safer, certainly, than a glass syringe. As you do, though, you catch a glimpse of the blood as it is lit from behind. There are small clumps floating in it, miniscule particles of grit and grime that strike you, based off instinct alone, as somehow filthy. The taint that Giants were said to gather within themselves?

Does that mean, then, that this blood is spoiled and useless?

You wish Solberg was here – he's the expert in all this, he would probably have some way to check. Then again, maybe not. Could anyone really be an expert in this stuff, that has gone unknown for so long as to become nearly mythical? No, tainted or not, you'll just have to gather everything you can and hope that some good can come of it.

-

The fungoid masses, bloated and looming, strike Vas mute for a while. Alien and unnatural, he shies away from touching them or letting them brush against his clothing. His caution seems unusual, but then he explains himself.

“Seeds, spores, whatever these things have,” he murmurs to you, “I don't know how they grow, but I sure as hell don't want to drag anything back to the Free States. Look at them!” Pausing here, he points to a patch of damaged ground – torn up by the Giant's fury. Already, new mushroom trees are starting to thrust out from the ground. “This is a strange place,” the old captain murmurs, “Not like anything I've ever seen.”

Not like anything that anyone has ever seen, you correct him, it was untouched by men until you arrived.

“Untouched by man...” Vas repeats slowly, a solemn air falling over you both for a moment, before he cracks a wide smile, “Like the sea captain's ugly daughter!”

The gloomy air evaporates as you laugh aloud, only laughing harder as Vas sings the first verse of that bawdy tune. The filthy lyrics lift your spirit, just as they have done for generations of sailors and workers. Joining in, you let your voices push back the bleak, forlorn air as you continue on.

[1/2]

>>1212437
> Does that mean, then, that this blood is spoiled and useless?

I would be very concerned about this given the vision we had of this Giant being . . . Erratic.

>>1212447
I can't wait for someone to steal it from us and create ebola

>>1212437

The crude singing comes to an abrupt halt as you spot another clearing ahead of you, another circle of reddish light. Waving for Vas to be careful, you slow your pace a little and head into the clearing, already drawn by the sight of another Giant-tree. It's a smaller one this time, although the word is relative – it still looms over you, even with the high branches snapped crudely off. It reminds you, looking at it, like a man with both arms sheared off.

But the arms are soon forgotten, as the sight of its chest – intact and undamaged – draws your eye. Carefully loading a fresh round into the Maus rifle – not too many rounds left for the antiquated rifle, you remind yourself – you call for Vas to join you.

“Bloody hell,” the captain murmurs, “Is it... alive?”

Hard to say, you reply, you're not sure if the term applies to these things. Stepping closer, you kick the trunk of the tree and wait for a response. Nothing this time – not a rush of alien memories, and not any physical reaction. A real tree wouldn't react any differently. Head back to the ship, you tell him, and fetch some tools – the syringe, something to break through the bone... everything you needed earlier.

“Got it,” Vas nods, “I'll be right back.”

-

As Vas runs back to the beach, you take one more unnecessary look about you. There's nothing to see, no dangers to worry about. Here in this clearing, sitting at the base of this Giant-tree, you feel a rare sense of tranquillity. It reminds you a little of Nihilo, this place, and the thought causes you – almost on reflex – to think about Artemis. You weren't exactly able to give the Giant a painless death, but it was more or less quick. Strange, though, that Artemis hasn't called out to you – you had been expecting her to, for her to gloat about this new victory. With only two of her great beasts left, she has a lot to gloat about.

And yet... nothing. Radio silence. You've heard people say that no news is good news, but this still feels faintly ominous. Maybe something to do with how far north you are, or maybe Artemis doesn't want to disturb you now. Maybe she's just too busy gloating.

Maybe.

-

“I've got everything,” Vas announces, slightly out of breath, as he rushes back, “Had to borrow Sasha to help with carrying it all, mind.”

“I wasn't busy, but...” Sasha agrees, before pausing at the sight of the Giant-tree, “Amazing. Mind if I stick around for a while and watch?”

No harm in having an extra pair of hands about, you reply, now it's time time to get to work. You just hope that this thing doesn't wake up during the “operation”.

[2/3]

>>1212454
Maybe she's bummed out that we couldn't give Nemesis an easy death. Not sure how we were supposed to do that in the first place though.

>>1212454

It's a little more awkward to work with this second specimen, having to work on an upright surface for one thing, but you steadily go about your tasks. First, you cut away some of the thick bark with a hatchet, awkwardly hacking at the tree as you cling to it. When the bark thickens to become bone, you have to strike harder and harder, but that too eventually gives way to reveal the heart – as withered and shrivelled as the one you recovered from the Orphan.

A curse slowly forms on your lips as you stare at that dried out thing, but you don't speak it aloud. Too early for that, you decide before calling for the syringe. Vas passes it up to you, lingering to help keep you stable as you thrust the needle in. At first, drawing back the plunger produces nothing but then blood spurts into the syringe. Less than before – a single pint, if you had to guess – but still. When you pull the syringe out, you hold it up to the moonlight and peer through the glass.

The blood is clear and pure, glistening like the waters of a mountain spring. Held in rapture by the sight, you spend the next few moments tilting the syringe back and forth, examining the blood from every angle. No matter how you look at it, you don't see a single trace of filth or impurity.

Perfect.

-

Even though you dearly wish to return to the ship, to compare the two samples you've recovered, you spent a while longer exploring the island. In particular, Vas wanted to see the mural you mentioned. While Sasha returns to the Ghoul, practically lost in his own thoughts, you show Vas to the broken, rocky ground. As you walk, he clears his throat and speaks up.

“This blood,” he asks quietly, “I figure you've got your own plans for it, right?”

His voice is mild, carefully neutral – not betraying anything about what he might think. That's rarely a good sign, usually meaning that there's some ulterior motive hidden beneath. Strange, for a straight forward person like Vas, and not something you hear often. Still, a question needs an answer.

>I thought we might split it two ways. I couldn't have got here without you, after all
>I know a guy who'd like to study it. Once I know more, I'll be able to decide
>I'm going to keep it. I need all the time I can get, and this might just help with that
>I had plans for it... (Write in)
>Other

>>1212468
>I know a guy who'd like to study it. Once I know more, I'll be able to decide

>>1212468
>I know a guy who'd like to study it. Once I know more, I'll be able to decide
>I thought we might split it two ways. I couldn't have got here without you, after all

>>1212468
>I know a guy who'd like to study it. Once I know more, I'll be able to decide.
>Give him a little for safe-keeping

>>1212468
>>I know a guy who'd like to study it. Once I know more, I'll be able to decide
If the impurities aren't terribly bad, we could give 2 or 3 to Vas to sell and split. 1 pint sure as hell doesn't sound like a lot to work with if the impurities make it useless though.

>>1212468
>I know a guy who'd like to study it. Once I know more, I'll be able to decide

"If it does what we think it does it's going to take some planning on what we do with it.

That said I'm willing to split it with you as long as we're careful. Many people would kill to get this. Then you can go give her an extra birthday present."

>>1212468
>>I know a guy who'd like to study it. Once I know more, I'll be able to decide
Tell him about Liz's blood problem. If it can help her then it'll be worth it, anyone else is a bonus.

>>1212476
Sell? I thought we were doing this on the down low, I sure as fuck don't want to get the ministry on our asses for "dealing with withcraft" or the college for having things they have a boner for.

>>1212482
Well I figure Vas and his crew want to make a penny off of it. Probably the main reason for coming on this thing was the promise of unexplored lands and possible riches.

>>1212476
>>1212482
I think his main priority is helping Iosefka. Which honestly if we had enough we probably would have given her some anyways.

>>1212484
Well if they were going to sell it'd have to be very low-key to a noble family. They wouldn't want to blab to the Ministry too.

Maybe Alkaev?

>>1212484
Yeah but this isn't something you can just sell, it's a mythical, legendary miracle cure to all the world's ills- You try to sell it and most likely everyone on board of this ship will end up dead or worse. Best case is no one takes it seriously but the ministry and college investigate anyway because it's possible you are peddling something that can carry disease.

>>1212488
>Alkaev
I like the idea, not sure if they have the funds for it since I don't remember if Lize's parents are stacked.

>>1212489
I mean, I don't know what else they could sell or try to make a penny off of. Some low-key sale like the other guy said would be ideal.

>>1212491
They were giving a substantial amount for Lize's return so I think they have money to throw around.

Lize's parents get cured and the sailors get paid. Still none of this matters til we find out exactly what this blood does.

>>1212468
Do you know about the doom of wolves. Snakes, bulls, and dragons?

This could cure that.

>>1212492
Of course. Wouldn't want to sell some sketchy shit off as a miracle cure only for things to go horribly wrong.

>>1212491
You're assuming they joined the expedition to get filthy rich, we don't even know what Vas promised them. We sure didn't promise him a king's ransom for taking us here. I'm also pretty sure that the giant's blood is a rather unknown thing or it wouldn't have been such a hurdle for us to simply find out about it.

>>1212493
> Also tell Vas about the mermaid and how it could also go very wrong.

>>1212495
Yeah I admit to assuming. Just feels like a great way for a sailor to be set for life though don't it? Go up north to explore these unseen lands and come back alive to tell the tale. Get some riches down low and then just live a comfy life. Just seems ideal.

You know a guy who'd like to study it, you begin slowly, he's kind of an expert in these things. Once you know more, exactly what you've got on your hands, you'll be able to decide properly. If it does what you both think, it's going to take a lot of very careful planning before you can decide what to do with it. The samples you've collected, they might not go very far.

“Right, and you don't want to start sticking any poison in your veins,” Vas agrees, nodding slowly, “You could die, or turn into one of those things, or... hell, I don't know, anything could happen!”

That's certainly true, you agree, you've seen the harm that these “miracle cures” can leave in their wake. Tolnir was damn near wiped off the map because of one of them, a “cure” that was as dangerous as any poison. But if it IS safe, you think aloud, that's a different matter altogether. If it's safe, it could mean an end to the doom that awaits all of your kind – not just Wolves, but Snakes, Bulls and Dragons alike.

“Aye,” Vas nods, “It's a rare prize, the sort of thing that might shake the League to its core... and now we've got our filthy hands on it. Hell of a decision, right?”

You'd still need to be careful with it, of course, but you'd be willing to share it with him. You never would have made it this far without his help, you add, so he deserves it as much as you do. Plus, the way you see it, both you and Vas have people who could use a little bit of a miracle cure. Maybe a late birthday present for someone?

“Hrn,” forcing a scowl, Vas looks away from you, “Am I really that easy to read?”

Sort of, yes. You don't blame him for it, you assure him, it's just like you said – you've both got people who you'd share the cure with. There's just one thing you want him to know.

“Yeah?” Vas narrows his eyes a little, sensing a catch in the making, “What is it?”

Selling this stuff - whether to the Ministry, the College, or a noble family - could be incredibly risky. He knows as well as you that men would kill for this, and the Ministry is slow to trust anything that might carry a health risk. The College, well... they might as well be the opposite, they'd probably start playing with it before they had any guarantee of its purity. What you're saying is, he needs to be careful with it and keep it as secret as possible.

“Secret...” Vas muses, turning the word over in his mouth, “Aye, I can see your point. Seems like making a big show of is a good way to end up floating face down in the ocean. Still, I have to admit, there are bills to pay...”

Just have a little patience, you advise, and keep things quiet. That's all you're asking.

“And I'll do it,” a pause as Vas thinks, “No public auctions, I suppose.”

No public auctions, you repeat firmly.

[1/2]

>>1212500
>No public auctions, you repeat firmly.

Lize just sneezed.

>>1212500
Is dead?

>>1212545
Is dead.

>>1212500

“So this guy you know...” Vas thinks aloud as you slowly make your way back to the Ghoul, “He trustworthy? Reliable?”

Interesting question, you reply, your gut instinct tells you that he's reliable enough. He's dutiful enough, more concerned with steady work than glory or riches. Hell, he probably doesn't need riches, he's already nobility. One of their blood experts, you continue, you met him a while ago and made a fairly good impression on the man. A mutual interest in history goes a long way to forging a friendship.

“Interest in history!” Vas scoffs, “Since when have you been interested in history?”

Hidden depths, you reply with a faint smile.

-

When you arrive back at the Ghoul, the crew look more like men indulging in a holiday than standing guard. A few lounge on the deck of the ship or sit on the rough pebble beach, while one of them slowly sketches a picture of the slain Giant on a wide pad of paper. You only catch a brief glimpse of his picture before he groans and hides it, but his sketch looks like something pulled from a nightmare. Not exactly the sort of thing that might be seen hanging on the wall of a noble dining room.

“Look lively men!” Vas bellows, sweeping his hand through the air, “We're leaving!”

The sailors scrabble into motion, hurrying to take their positions as you climb aboard the Ghoul. Vas heads for the helm of the ship, while you head below deck to your cabin. There, you repeat the earlier process of pouring the blood into toughened cases for transportation before lying down on your bunk and closing your eyes. As the Ghoul's engine growls into life and the ship begins to move, you keep your eyes closed and wait – waiting for Artemis to call you back to Nihilo.

Waiting for a call that never comes.

-

Woken by a sudden jolt, you sit up only to be shaken as a new wave buffets the Ghoul. Struggling upright, you begin the tumultuous process of fighting your way up on deck. The dagger at your hip has grown warm once more, throbbing like a beating heart. The red moon glares down from above like a bloodshot eye, blasting its sickly light across the surging, stormy waters. Ahead of you, Ghruul's Eye – that hideous, howling whirlpool – churns the water into foam.

Stronger than before, waves toss the Ghoul back and forth as it struggles through the water, fighting for every little bit of progress it makes. Icy cold water showers you as a wave crashes against the side of the ship, and you nearly lose your footing on the wet metal beneath your feet. Falling forwards, you cling to the closest railing and haul yourself upright. Shaking your head to clear it, you look back to the whirlpool on the horizon.

Like a log bursting into flames, the dagger at your hip flares into bright and violent life. A second later, and the whirlpool explodes into a plume of dark water.

[2/3]

>Sorry, my computer threw a fit. Should have the next post up in a little bit.

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>>1212574
aww shit a whale is a Great Beast?

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>>1212574

Something vast moves within that sudden tempest, great and hideous. Vainly thrusting into the air, it rises from the water and slowly, almost leisurely, turns mid-air. Water showers down from its body, raining down upon you as the moonlight paints a lurid picture of this new enemy. Sharing only the vaguest silhouette with a great whale, this creature looks to be altogether older, gnarled and scarred by uncountable years. A fin runs down its spine, as ragged as a tattered sail, while stubby flippers cling to the beast's underbelly.

Holding itself aloft in the air for what seems like an impossible span of time, the creature lets out a terrible, thunderous roar – a bellow so deep that it shakes your bones and presses down upon your head like a vice. The beast howls, and then it finally crashes back below the waves once again, vanishing for a blessed moment. A second later, and the great dorsal fin pierces the surface of the water, carving through it like a knife.

The beast circles you, toying with you and causing the Ghoul to shudder even worse than before. Against that vast creature, Vas' ship feels like a child's toy. Gritting your teeth and fighting against the constant motion, you push yourself to the helm.

-

“What the hell is that thing?” Vas yells, sparing you only a passing glance before returning to fighting with the controls, “It came right out of that whirlpool, how is that possible?”

Hardly a question that you're in a position to answer, so you reply with a question of your own. The Ghoul, you snap back, can she survive this?

“Maybe one hit if we get lucky, no more than that,” Vas spits, “What's the plan, Henryk?”

What?

“You're a Hunter, that's a beast!” looking round again, Vas gives you a look of barely controlled panic, “What's the plan?”

>I'll get on the gun, see if you can keep behind that thing!
>Get us out of here, we'll lead it into friendly waters and hope someone else is out there!
>Can you take us to shallow waters? It can't follow us there, right?
>I've got a plan... (Write in)
>Other

>>1212581
>>Get us out of here, we'll lead it into friendly waters and hope someone else is out there!

Yeah no. We need back up for this. We can't take this thing solo.

>>1212581
>Get us out of here, we'll lead it into friendly waters and hope someone else is out there!
We can try to take aim with the grenade harpoon thing in calmer waters anyway

>>1212581
>Get us out of here, we'll lead it into friendly waters and hope someone else is out there!
Don't suppose we could use the gun while we run away huh? Also, that third option is just begging for an ass kicking.

>>1212581
>>Get us out of here, we'll lead it into friendly waters and hope someone else is out there!
>>Can you take us to shallow waters? It can't follow us there, right?

The sandbar where the Orphan got stranded perhaps?

>>1212590
Unless you have a plan to beach the whale going to shallow waters is just going to trap us. Cause once we are there it's going to circle us until we eventually come back out.

>>1212581
Kinda wants a scene with Revele right now.
>huh, I'm the strongest but there's still a limit to what I can do, you know.
Or
>Oh, it's on. Bitch.

>>1212592
Something that massive is bound to have incredible momentum, if we can keep it from bowling us while baiting it toward the shallower ground. Tight turns ought to be its downfall.

>>1212606
Hmm that might work. Still there are shallows closer to friendly boats than where the Orphan was. If we do try to beach it lets try there.

Just so one fuck up isn't a complete death sentence.

>>1212608
I was hoping against hope that somehow the Orphan would still be able to sail or at least limp enough for Ghrull to take a bite out of if. If we packed her full of explosive..

It's simple, you call to Vas, you need him to get the Ghoul out of here. Head out, to the friendly waters – with a little luck, there's someone else out there to help with this.

“We're running? That's-” Vas begins, only for the beast to cut through the waters in front of you, nearly tipping the Ghoul over completely. From the deck, you hear a few scattered screams of fear and panic. “That's a damn good idea!” the captain finishes, his hands dancing across the controls as he works, “Anything else you want to add?”

You flounder for a moment, indecision gnawing at you for a few precious seconds. This is not your area of expertise – hell, you don't think this is anyone's area of expertise. Hunting a whale is one thing, but even the most aggressive and territorial of whales doesn't come close to this monstrosity. The way it circles you, the way it almost seems to be hunting you... there's malice here, raw and hideous. The kind of spiteful rage that seems all too common in the north.

And that's when an idea strikes you. The Orphan, you tell Vas, what about the shallow waters where the Orphan got stranded? A creature like that couldn't follow you that far, right?

“Hell if I know, but I'll keep that in mind,” Vas grabs a lever and throws it forwards, causing the engines to roar with new power, “Hold onto something, everyone, this is going to get rough! Henryk, can you slow that thing down with the gun? Might not kill it, but maybe we can force it to keep its distance!”

Right, you call back, you'll see what you can do.

-

More falling out onto the deck than leaving with any dignity, you fight your way towards the harpoon gun. It can only pivot so far around, you won't get a clear shot until the beast is ahead of you, but it's better than nothing. The alternative is sitting tight in your cabin and hoping for the best, a kind of inaction that you're just not comfortable with. It might be a futile show of defiance, but you have no serious expectation of killing it here – as Vas said, you're just trying to keep it away.

It seems like you're the only one fool enough to have the idea of fighting – the deck is abandoned, the crew having retreated below deck. No matter, you can man a gun on your own. Pulling one of the heavy, blunt-tipped grenades from a chest, you strip off the safety and slam it into the harpoon cannon. Gripping the handles tightly, you cast a wild eye about for any sign of the beast.

There – a jagged line cutting through the water. It describes a wide circle, before reaching ahead of you and doubling back.

Coming straight for you.

[1/2]

>>1212621

Centring the harpoon cannon's twisted wire sights over the approaching target, you let the harpoon fly. The spear seems to hit the charging beast head on, a great plume of water cast up by the explosion. Beyond that impressive plume, however, the harpoon's only effect is to cause the beast to jolt sideways, its charge taking it away from the Ghoul rather than straight into it. A successful hit by your count, and despite the gravity of the situation you can't help but punch the air in satisfaction.

Careful not to spend too long on your celebrations, you move to load a new harpoon into the cannon. When you turn to fetch new ammo, however, you come face to face with Bohdan, a harpoon held in his hands. Pausing for the briefest of moments, you give the sailor a firm nod and take the harpoon, priming it and slamming it down into the cannon.

Alright beast, you snarl, you're ready.

-

This deadly dance continues, a whirl of near misses and frantic shots. Bohdan shouts out updates on where the beast is – although he insists on using port and starboard instead of left and right like a normal person – and loads a new harpoon whenever you need one. Like a well oiled machine, you don't need to waste words on anything else. This continues until the sky starts to lighten, taking on that vile milk and blood colour.

You've never been so glad to see it, just as you never thought you'd be so glad to see the Orphan once again. The derelict ship grows larger and larger as the Ghoul hurtles towards it, looming larger with each passing second.

“It's still following us, close behind!” Bodhan yells, “And... we're going to hit, we're heading right for it!”

Damn it, you curse, take over here! Passing the harpoon cannon to Bohdan – who looks as though he barely knows what to do with it – you stumble back across the deck to the Ghoul's helm. Shielding your eyes against sprays of icy water, you fight back to Vas. He doesn't turn around at the sound of your entrance, his eyes locked upon the Orphan.

He's laughing again, which is never a good sign.

Turn around, you yell desperately, he's going to slam right into it!

“Just watch!” Vas shouts back, “We're going to be fine, we have nothing to worry about!”

Vas is telling you that there's nothing to worry about, and that's definitely not a good sign. You can't bear to look, but neither can you bring yourself to tear your eyes away. Holding tightly onto a railing, all you can do is watch as the doomed Ghoul streaks through the water towards the Orphan. The beast follows behind you, gradually inching closer. Which one will sink you first?

Then, his laughter reaching a new peak, Vas wrenches the Ghoul around with a savage twist, the ship's engines crying out in protest.

They're not the only thing that cries out.

[2/3]

>>1212665
Vas you fucking madman.

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>>1212665

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>>1212665
>>1212669

>>1212665
Really earning that honorary Hunter title there Vas.

>>1212665

Metal screeches as something scrapes along the side of the Ghoul, but the nimble ship barely slows. Whatever damage has been done, it wasn't enough to stop you. Within the space of a few moments, approaching doom has been replaced by a retreating obstacle. Forcing yourself to let go of the railing, you rush outside onto the deck and fix your sight upon the Orphan. A heartbeat later, and the derelict ship convulses with a sudden impact.

Even at a distance, even with the engine howling away, you can hear the sound of metal being crushed. Slowly at first, but growing quicker, the ship splits and begins to slide beneath the waves. Moments continue to pass and the ship continues to sink, but there is still no sign of the beast continuing it's chase. When the last piece of the Orphan has vanished beneath the waves, a great cheer of triumph rises up from the Ghoul.

A cheer that you take no part in. One touch of the dagger at your hip, one touch of that indecisive heat, and you feel your victory withering. This fight isn't over yet.

-

The Ghoul continues to limp south, getting slower and slower with each passing moment. By the time you've left the blood and milk sky behind, it's clear that Vas' ship is a crippled beast. You spend the journey at the rear of the ship, keeping watch for any sign of the beast returning to its pursuit. The Birthing Blade is still showing signs of life, albeit so slight as to be almost imaginary.

Sighing, shaking your head slowly, you return to the helm. Time to see what the damage is. One look at Vas' grim features, and you can tell that it's bad.

“Damn right it's bad,” he tells you, “We've got a leak – just a small one, but it's still bad news – and the engines are barely functioning. I think we can limp home, or to friendly waters at least, but it's going to be a stretch. My poor ship...”

>You did a hell of a job out there Vas, thank you
>We've got a problem, Vas. That thing isn't dead yet
>Any sign of any friendly ships?
>How are the crew doing?
>Other

>>1212705
So the thing isn't beached. We just bloodied it's nose on the Orphan correct?

>>1212705
>>You did a hell of a job out there Vas, thank you
but
>>We've got a problem, Vas. That thing isn't dead yet
Least it took care of that rat problem the Orphan had!

>>1212705
>>We've got a problem, Vas. That thing isn't dead yet
>How are the crew doing?

>>1212705
>You did a hell of a job out there Vas, thank you
>But we've got a problem, Vas. That thing isn't dead yet
>Any sign of any friendly ships?
>How are the crew doing?
>Other
"How much grenade ammo do we have left?"

>>1212708

>It's not beached, no. Since hitting the Orphan, it's vanished from sight

>>1212722
Are whales known to eat humans or do they just knock the boats around?

>>1212724

>Generally, whales just target ships that stray into their territory - individual humans are too small for them to notice.

He did a hell of a job out there, you tell Vas gravely, he has your thanks. You didn't know that a ship could move like that.

“Well,” Vas pauses, “Neither did I, really. There's a first time for everything, right? The Ghoul's a nimble girl, true enough, but I've never tried anything like that at those kinds of speeds. I'm glad it worked out okay, that's for damn sure.”

He didn't... he never...

“It worked, didn't it?” shrugging, Vas gives you a look of dark satisfaction, “We sent that bastard to the bottom!”

When you don't return his grin, an awkward air falls across the both of you. There might be a problem with that, you explain slowly, you're not sure if that thing is really dead. You've seen any sign of a body, and your gut is giving you some serious warnings. You're not out of trouble yet.

“Damn it,” the captain hisses, “What do we do? We're in no position to fight that thing, not in the state we're in.”

What about friendly ships, you ask, any sign of them?

“I've not seen anything, but that doesn't mean much out here,” shaking his head, Vas waves out at the open ocean It's darker now, with the red moon fading, and a low mist clings to the water. Visibility drops away quickly in these parts, except in ideal conditions. “I checked the radio a little while ago, but I just got static. Dead on all channels. Now you mention it, though, we might as well give it another shot,” a grimace fleets across Vas' face, “Not much else we can do, is there?”

As you watch, Vas fiddles with the bulky, complicated looking radio equipment, turning a dial and listening carefully to a pair of headphones. His scowl tells you a lot, but then his expression clears. Whispering through the headphones, you can just about make out a voice.

“This is the whaler Aurora,” the tinny voice says, “Your signal is weak, but we can hear you. Is there someone out there?”

Breaking out in a broad grin, Vas turns and gives you a thumbs up.

-

You fade into the background as Vas carries out a clipped conversation with the voice on the other end of the radio. As he talks, you pat the dagger at your hip – as a precaution, as much as to take comfort from it. The blade is still faintly warm, perhaps a tiny bit warmer than when you last felt it. No comfort to be found there, unfortunately.

“The Aurora isn't too far away, all things considered,” Vas tells you when you return, “We can reach them, and they've agreed to offer us help. Damn eager, when I mentioned that we had a massively blood whale after us. I suppose they smelled a profit. They can keep the lot of it if they like, just so long as they can fix up my ship. How does that sound?”

Best news you've had in a while, you reply.

[1/2]

>>1212757

The Ghoul limps on in silence for a while, both you and Vas listening to the engines whining away in the background. After a while, growing sick of their ill sounds, you ask the first question to come to mind. How are the crew doing, you ask, anyone injured?

“Sasha isn't happy,” Vas replies, “His model ship got broken when we pulled that tight turn.”

That's too bad, you reply before pausing, Sasha has a model ship?

“Hey, don't ask me,” the captain shrugs, “He's a damn good worker, but I couldn't even begin to guess what goes on in that man's head. A few people were injured, falling badly and that kind of thing, but nothing was serious. A few broken bones at the most – we'll have them seen to when we meet up with the Aurora. Considering what happened, I'd say we got off damn lightly. Helped that most of the men were below deck, I suppose.”

Bohdan was up there with you, you remark, you weren't expecting that.

“Hah, well, I don't think he was doing it out of heroism. If I know Bohdan, he probably figured it was the best shot at survival he had. Canny one, that one. It's half the reason I keep him around,” Vas chuckles softly, “His nose for profit is the other half. First time I've ever seen him help out at the cannon, mind you.”

There's a first time for everything, you reply with a shrug, and passing up ammunition isn't hard. Speaking of the cannon, you add, has he taken a count of how many grenade rounds you have left?

“Not many,” Vas shakes his head, “We're down to four. Still, the Aurora might be able to restock our supply, if they use the same kind of guns we do. Sometimes, these ships use larger ones. Remember that old beast I used to have?”

Yeah, you reply with a faintly nostalgic smile, that thing had some serious firepower.

“I still miss the old wreck sometimes,” the captain mutters to himself, before shaking his head and glancing around at you. “You might as well go get some rest,” he adds, “Or a lie down, at least – I wouldn't blame you if you don't feel like sleeping right now. It'll be a while yet before we reach the Aurora. We're not going anywhere quickly, after all.”

But you're still alive, you point out, that's quick enough for you.

-

Taking Vas' advice, you return to your cabin and stretch out on your bunk, the faint warmth of the Birthing Blade resting on your chest. Sleep never reaches you, and Artemis never reaches out to make contact. All you can do is wait, feeling the dagger growing steadily warmer as the minutes crawl past.

You hate this kind of waiting.

>I'm going to have to close things here for today, I'm starting to hit a block. I'll aim to finish this off tomorrow
>Thanks to everyone who contributed today!

>>1212801
Thanks for running Moloch.

We are fighting against Primal Knight right?

What's the extent of Revelle's powers? She protected us from the Northern God, but can she do physical things like physical shielding or something?

>>1212801
thanks for running

>>1212809
I think if they were capable of that, spirits wouldn't be simple superstition.

>>1212809

Yeah, this is the Primal Knight. After this, we've only got one left. All things considered, NBQ is almost at a conclusion!
Revelle, unfortunately, can't do anything to protect us against physical damage or harm. Her influence is strictly limited to mystical/spiritual matters.

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>>1212815
>Her influence is strictly limited to mystical/spiritual matters.
She's the strongest, but there's still things even the strongest can't do anything about it.

>>1212815
WE aren't the last Knight, are we?

>>1215809
Blade would always be hot if that was the case.

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Perhaps it's because you've spent too long out on the open ocean, but it's hard to think of the Aurora in anything other than oceanic terms. It's like a great whale, while the Ghoul is the small and timid fish drawing up beside it. Perhaps not the best comparison to make, given the circumstances, but it's the only one that comes to mind. Whatever your misgivings, the end result is the same – a friendly face, and not a moment too soon.

Feeling rather like a spare part, you watch as crewmen on both ships cast lines back and forth, securing the Ghoul to the larger ship. It's a kind of organised chaos, and strangely satisfying to watch. It's even more satisfying when the crew lowers a ladder and invites you up on board. As soon as their duties are done, the members of the Ghoul's crew scurry up the ladder, leaving you to follow in their wake. As they vanish into the ship, seeking warmth and comfort, you linger up on deck for a while longer, walking a slow circuit of the Aurora and examining her armament.

The rear of the Aurora is only lightly armed, with only a single harpoon cannon, but the prow bears three of the guns – including one of a significant size, far larger than the gun mounted on the Ghoul. You're no expert but the hull looks strong and sturdy as well, thick enough to take a few good hits. Hopefully. Metal chests are mounted at both sets of cannons, and a quick look inside confirms your suspicions – ammunition, a good supply of regular harpoons and grenade rounds. Overall, the Aurora seems the perfect example a whaling vessel, a predator well adapted to its prey of choice.

“Magnificent, isn't she?” a voice calls from behind you, brash and proud, “She's like a second home to me now. How about I show you around a little?”

-

Wolves, in general, fall into two camps – those who revel in what they are, and those who do not. Hyde is a good example of the latter, a man who does his job with diligence and skill without ever growing arrogant. A man who is aware of the stigma their blood has gathered over the years, and takes no pleasure in it. The kind of Wolf who, if possible, would lead a quiet life. The former example are the complete opposite, relishing whatever ill reputation their enthusiasm gives them.

Merril Jagoda is one of the former, and it shows. It shows on her arrogant, violent features and in her harsh, uncompromising posture. She even carries a sword, like another arrogant Hunter that you could name. She makes no attempt to hide what she is, or the hunger that glints in her eye as you mention that your beast may still be in pursuit. Eager for answers, she practically dragged you below deck and thrust a hot mug of strong tea into your hands.

“Now,” she declares, sitting opposite you and flashing a daring smile, “We talk.”

[1/2]

>>1215818

Very well then, you reply evenly, where does she want you to start?

“This seabeast,” she answers immediately, “Describe it to me. Already, I have heard murmurs from your fellow crewmen. They say it is a whale, but not like any that they have ever seen before. Is this true?”


A good a way to describe it as any, you decide after a moment's thought, you're not sure what else you could add to it. It doesn't exactly resemble any kind of whale you've seen or heard of, but you couldn't really compare it to anything else. In either case, you were too busy with trying to survive to study the damn thing. If she helps you kill it, you add with a humourless smile, she can take a good look for herself.

“I'll do that,” Jagoda agrees, taking your comment at face value, “How do you know it's following you?”

A magic dagger, you think to yourself, that you pulled from the guts of a tree. A dagger that has been growing steadily warmer ever since you made your escape. Just the thought of telling her that, just to see the look on her face, amuses you, although you're wise enough to hold your tongue. Shrugging lightly, you meet her eye. Gut instinct, you tell her simply, that's all.

“Enough for me. A Wolf should always listen to their gut,” leaning back, Jagoda takes out a brass cigarette case and toys with it for a moment before snapping it open. She offers it to you, an offer that you decline, and then takes a slim cigarette for herself. “I think we can help each other, you and I,” she decides, lighting her cigarette with a small lighter, “I've ordered for men to stand guard and watch for any signs of your beast. From what I've learned, I'm confident that we'll be able to see it coming. Once we do, it's just a matter of getting a good shot lined up. We'll sink this seabeast yet!”

She's enthusiastic, you'll give her that, and pretty damn confident. Having seen the formidable cannon mounted at the Aurora's prow, though, you can't really blame her for being so confident.

“Just a matter of waiting now,” she adds as an afterthought, scowling slightly at the idea, “It's the worst part, isn't it?”

You can't really argue there.

>I'm going to get some rest. Come find me if there's any sign of the beast
>Have you hunted many whales, then?
>Does the Aurora have any problems? If something could go wrong, I need to know about it now
>I needed to check something with you... (Write in)
>Other

>>1215819
>Have you hunted many whales, then?
"I think this one might be Ghruul. It came out if the Eye after all and I'd the biggest I've seen."

>I'm going to get some rest. Come find me if there's any sign of the beast

>>1215822
>I'd
It's*

>>1215819
>Have you hunted many whales, then?

So, you ask as Jagoda savours her cigarette, has she hunted many whales? The way she speaks about it, she sounds like an old veteran.

“Not so old,” she warns you, reaching into her tunic – a coarse, northern style – and producing a heavy string of necklaces. Little tokens and talismans, almost two dozen in all and every one of them carved from whale bone. “One for every kill,” she tells you proudly, “And I'm still looking to increase my collection. I've seen a lot of men die in this business, thrown overboard or fallen prey to the Red Eye, but I've survived it all. Whales can't kill me... because of these.” She shakes the talismans as she says this, causing the bones to rattle and chime.

Interesting little charms, you muse, northern?

“Aye, a little bit of their superstition,” the Wolf agrees, “But it's never steered me wrong yet.”

That's putting a lot of faith in some superstition, you reply with a wry smile, it almost seems like she's tempting fate. The whales might not get her, but the Ministry might if she doesn't keep quiet about this native business. She should know what they can be like, if they catch a scent of... certain matters.

“Might be, might be,” nodding reluctantly, Jagoda hides her necklaces once more, “But where's the harm in indulging a few old stories?”

Considering everything that you've seen and heard, you can't really bring yourself to believe that old stories can be harmless. Best to change the subject, you decide, before either of you says anything incriminating. Speaking of old stories, you mention casually, this beast reminds you of one. It might well be Ghruul itself, you suggest. I came out of the Eye, after all, and it's the biggest bastard you've ever seen. The old tales must have been rooted in something, and this beast might just be the source of them.

“Interesting idea,” Jagoda muses, “But you know, those stories are ancient.”

Whales don't die of old age, you counter, or so you've heard. Maybe this beast is as ancient as even the earliest tales... is that a problem for her?

“A problem? No,” with a curt shake of her head, Jagoda gives you a savage grin, “A worthy hunt, though? Absolutely.”

A worthy hunt, you repeat, then you'd better make sure you're in good shape for it. You're going to head off and get some rest, prepare yourself for what's coming. If there's any sign of that thing, you tell Jagoda, you want to hear about it. Any sign of anything, in fact.

“Don't worry,” the Hunter replies, giving you a knowing nod, “I won't leave you out of this. You've earned your share of the fun, after all.”

She's got a pretty strange idea of fun, this one.

[1/2]

>>1215856

Stopping a random crewman, Jagoda orders him to show you through to an empty bunk, and he obeys without question. She might not be the captain of this vessel, but the crew seem to hold her in equal regard. Perhaps even more so – the men you pass seem to look upon her with a kind of instinctual loyalty, rather than anything enforced by a chain of command. It's rare, you consider, to see a Wolf with such a devoted following. Then again, the crew of whaling ships always do tend to be a little... strange. It takes a very specific kind of person to choose this life for themselves.

No matter, you're hardly in a position to judge. Putting the thoughts of... well, pretty much everything out of your mind, you lie back in the borrowed bunk – how many other anonymous sailors have used this bed, you wonder, lying here and staring at the same ceiling? - and rest a hand on the Birthing Blade. The steady warmth is strangely hypnotic, lulling you into a deep and restful sleep.

Deep and restful, maybe, but not long-lasting.

-

“Sir!” a crewman shouts, snapping you awake in an instant, “Jagoda needs to see you, she's up on deck now!”

What is it, you ask as you rise, has the beast been spotted?

“I don't...” the young man falters, “Best she explains it herself, sir, but I think it's urgent. She seems to think so, at least.”

You're about to question him further, but then you touch the Birthing Blade and recoil at its heat. In the time that you were asleep, the beast has grown close indeed. Nodding briskly, you slip the dagger back into your belt and march off towards the upper deck. A thin, cold rain is falling when you arrive, but Jagoda pays it no heed. Standing at the prow of the ship with her arms folded, she glares off into the distance.

What's the emergency, you ask her, did she see something out there?

“No,” the Hunter admits after a long moment, “But it's here. I can feel it in my gut – can't you?”

Your gut isn't telling you much, but the Birthing Blade has plenty to tell you. It's not an exact science by any means, but the heat is such that you should be able to see the beast, if there is anything to be seen. Yet, just as she says, there is nothing to see. Maybe it's down deep, you suggest, skulking about and waiting for a chance to strike.

“You think it can do that?” she asks, “Make plans?”

Maybe so, you reply with a shrug, there's no telling what it can or can't do. From what you've seen of it, though, it didn't strike you as a mindless beast – it had malice in it.

“I wonder-” Jagoda begins, before falling abruptly silent. As if catching a scent on the wind, she freezes.

A moment later, and something rocks the Aurora from side to side.

[2/3]

>>1212415
We should probably thank Artemis for that blind bloody luck.

>>1215922

A flicker of uncertainty shows in Jagoda's eye as she glances around at you, both of you thinking the same question – what could cause a ship as sturdy as the Aurora to rock like that, without ever showing itself?

Nothing good, you suspect. Before either of you can say anything, the Aurora violently lists to port, causing both of you to stumble. It's not the violent jolt of a sudden impact, not like something striking you from the opposing side, but more like something pulling – as if a great hand had reached up from the port side and tugged at the Aurora. That mighty pull comes again, even stronger now, and a few scattered screams rise up from across the ship. Fighting yourselves upright, you and Jagoda struggle across to the side of the ship and look down, searching for some explanation.

You don't have to look long. Breaking through the surface of the water like a mountain rising from the waves, it takes you a moment to recognise the beast for what it is. The blunt snout of a face has been shattered, broken open and flattened by its impact with the Orphan, but it was far from the lethal blow you had hoped. Reaching out from the bloody ruin of a face are several long, muscular tendrils, some of which have coiled around the Aurora's railings. It is those tendrils that pull on the ship, growing in strength as more and more of the loathsome things find purchase. Waiting below, the seabeast's maw bristles with jagged, gnashing teeth.

“What is...” Jagoda freezes for a moment, staring down into that maw. Whatever similarity it once had with a whale has been lost, and the sheer alien sight of it gives you both pause. The sound of rifle shots, fired by a few of the desperate crewmen, are enough to shatter the moment of inaction and bring you to your senses

This is no time for lying about, damn it!

>Focus on cutting those tentacles before they drag the ship down
>Join the crew in shooting at the beast
>Use one of the harpoon cannons to fire at the beast
>Some other plan... (Write in)
>Other

>>1215970
>Focus on cutting those tentacles before they drag the ship down
Seems most important

>>1215970
>Focus on cutting those tentacles before they drag the ship down

While do that someone better be on the gun shooting the fucker point blank while we have the chance.

>>1215970
>>Focus on cutting those tentacles before they drag the ship down

Is this one of those episodes where the hero jumps into the maw of the monster?

>>1215970
>Take one of the grenade harpoons and throw it at the smashed part of the face.
I doubt any of the cannons has line of fire to that

>If that doesn't have much effect, focus on cutting the tentacles.

>>1215970
>>Focus on cutting those tentacles before they drag the ship down
What are the odds of this particular beast being the source of the Red Eye Sickness?

>>1215994
Maybe. That said I bet the thing is chalk full of the parasite.

>>1215970
>Focus on cutting those tentacles before they drag the ship down

>Going to be a slight delay, I've got a small errand to run before I can finish writing. Sorry about this

Pushing yourself to your feet, you draw the Birthing Blade and grip it tightly, steadying yourself on the railing with your other hand. You're going to cut those tentacles, you yell over to Jagoda, before they drag the whole damn ship down!

“Right!” she replies, your shout snapping her back to reality, “I'll get on the gun, see if I can get a clear shot!”

Without wasting time or energy on further discussion, you part ways and start towards your own targets. While Jagoda retreats to the prow, and the harpoon cannons waiting there, you press ahead towards the ship's port side. It feels like plunging into a storm, ocean spray crashing against your face as the waves compete the sound of screams for your attention. Ahead of you, crewmen rush back and forth in fear and confusion, with only a rare few of them retaining enough sense to fight back against the seabeast.

A strong pull causes you to stagger, slamming hard against the railings as the seabeast wraps another slick rope of muscle around the railing just ahead of you. Grunting out in revulsion, you lunge forwards and plunge the Birthing Blade into the tendril, sawing through the rubbery flesh and spilling a wash of oily blood down onto the deck. When you're about halfway through, the tendril releases its grip and flinches back, flailing about and splattering you with more of that filthy blood.

Following your example, the fighting crewmen drop their rifles in favour of heavy bladed knives, hacking and chopping at the closest tentacles. As they launch their new attack, a thunderous explosion casts up a great plume of water. A grenade harpoon, detonating a few feet away from the beast. Looking back to the prow of the ship, you see Jagoda shaking her head furiously, mouthing a vile curse. Her angle is bad, you realise, she can't get a shot.

The seabeast attacked the Aurora in the ship's blind spot, where it could attack without fear of those harpoons. Your earlier suspicions return to you in a rush – it can think, learning from its experiences and planning its attack.

Then a new tendril, thicker than anything you've seen before, slams down on the railing in front of you, crumpling the metal beneath it and dragging across the deck. Both you and a crewman, a grim looking sort with jagged tattoos across one cheek, are knocked down by the impact only to recover quickly and attack the tendril with your knives. Blood flows freely, and then the tentacles lashes out to ensnare the sailor. Even as he is swept overboard, the man continues to hack at the rope of muscle that binds him. As you watch from the deck, helpless, the tentacle unfurls and drops the man, letting him plunge into that gnashing maw.

Stunned, it takes you a moment to rise to your feet and return to fighting back the relentless tendrils.

[1/2]

>>1216067

This is not a fight that you can win.

Even now the crew had rallied, focusing on cutting through the tentacles, your efforts amount to nothing. For every fat, loathsome tongue that you cut through, two more burst from the fleshy mass of the beast's mouth. A constantly changing, mutating thing, the colour of an open wound, that beast's maw shows no sign of faltering or failing in its attack. The crew, on the other hand, are starting to show signs of weakness. One by one, they are swept up and picked off by tentacles, thrown aside or dropped into that gaping mouth. This can't continue – you need to try something else. When Jagoda fires another futile grenade at the seabeast, blasting harmlessly into the nearby ocean, an idea strikes you.

Abandoning the endless struggle against the tentacles, trusting the crewmen to keep them from capsizing the Aurora, you rush back to the prow of the ship and throw open one of the ammunition chests. Lifting out one of the blunt-tipped harpoons, you charge back to the seabeast. Pausing only to strip off the safety, you lean across the railing and hurl the harpoon down into the beast's maw. The explosion blasts lumps of raw meat out of the maw, causing all of the tendrils to recoil for a moment. Even though your ears are ringing in the aftermath of the explosion, you can feel a sudden moment of silence descending. When one of the crewmen shouts for more harpoons, the noise and fury of battle comes crashing back in.

Maybe you CAN win this after all.

>Sorry about this, but I'm going to have to pause things here for a bit. I've got a pretty bad headache, and it's making writing difficult. If I can't shake it, I might have to stop early for today. Updates when I know more.

>>1216132
Gosh this battle is tense. Definitely feels like the hardest so far.

>>1216132
SPLIT YOUR LUNGS WITH BLOOD AND THUNDER

>>1216132

This fight is amazing, all of the beasts have been brilliant pieces of work but this one, with the rest of the crew and the ship in play as well, it just came out incredibly cinematic and engaging

The tide slowly turns as you and the crew fall into a system of brutal efficiency. While most of the crew turn their knives upon the beast's tentacles, you and a few others rush back and forth from the ammunition chests, carrying grenade harpoons to hurl into the beast's maw. With each harpoon that hits home, it takes longer and longer to recover until finally, it breaks away from the ship and sinks beneath the bloodied waves. There are no cheers of triumph when it finally vanishes from sight – the men are simply too exhausted for any celebrations.

“Good call with those harpoons,” Jagoda says, approaching you with a broad smile, “I didn't-”

Before she can finish that sentence, something strikes the Aurora from beneath with enough force to spill you both over. A klaxon begins to scream out from somewhere, and the groan of tortured metal reaches you. A moment of confusion later, and the klaxon is replaced by a distorted, amplified voice. Half the words are lost to static, but you hear more than enough.

“...Engine room, at the double...” the voice squawks out, “Emergency... serious risk... Sinking...”

“Come on!” Jagoda grabs you by the shoulder, hauling you upright, “Looks like your beast isn't ready to die yet, Wolf. Follow me, the engine room is this way!”

Lingering above deck just long enough to grab a pair of the bulky grenade harpoons, you shout for Jagoda to lead the way.

-

The overhead lights flicker as you run down featureless corridor after featureless corridor, solely trusting that Jagoda knows where she's going. This is her second home, after all, if anyone knows where to go it would be her. The ship shudders as you run, occasionally listing to one side of jolting like a man being kicked awake. All the while, the sounds of tearing metal and blaring alarms close in around you.

“Almost there!” your guide yells, “Just through the next-”

You pass through the last doorway, pausing to heave open the heavy bulkhead before stumbling into the engine room. Water splashes underfoot, sloshing around your ankles as you enter the engine room, your eyes already fixed upon the beast. You could not even begin to imagine the kind of ferocious strength that allowed it to punch and tear into the Aurora's underbelly, tendrils lined with hooked spines giving it a powerful grip and allowing it to pull it's fat lower body further inside. Plates of bone and slabs of wet muscle that once made a snout have peeled back, parting like the petals of some blasphemous flower to reveal something that pulses like a heart. A single burning eye opens on that organ, mad with pain and a terrible intelligence.

You falter under that burning stare, hesitating as a veil of tendrils form up around the organ.

>Please suggest a course of action
>I'll leave this open for 10 minutes, sorry for the delays today

>>1216281
Chuck some of our grenades at it but save one for us and one for Jagoda. When we are down to the last two grenades, we jump in with our blades, cut and cleave as deep as we can and then we plug the holes with the nades.

If that doesn't do it we're completely fucked

>>1216281
It's probably a really bad idea to toss one of the harpoons at that since we're in the engine room huh? If we have a gun, any gun, we should try to quickly get a shot off at it before it gets buried by the tendrils.
Another plan, likely for next move, would be to have our wolf buddy chop at the tendrils while we shoot, unless she wants to switch.

>>1216281
If it can move those tendrils to cover the eye, stands to reason it should move them if we inflict enough pain on them.
So, throw one of the 'nades at the tendrils, more if there's more crewmen. Couple seconds later that should give either us or the hunter a free shot at the eye.

>>1216281
Grenade the tendrils, get ready to stab the eye when we get a chance. Blinding it should give us an edge in battle.

Question Moloch, do we have our Maus?