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>>1251511

Walking down the spacious, decorated corridors, past tapestries woven by long-dead (or maybe not, with the longevity of the elves,) artists, detailing the histories of the Wood Elves of Mornaur; busts of former Fineri on pedestals regularly accompanying the tapestries. It seems that the bust of the Fineri is placed under the tapestry of the era they came to power in.

But, unfortunately, you're not here to learn about the history of the Wood Elf not-Kings, so you move on, continuing on your path to Wyrran's throne room. Nodding at the guards, who give you polite bows in return, you push open the doors, which slide open quietly, and remarkably easily. They must be incredibly balanced and measured, or the elves must have some incredible grease for the hinges.

That's besides the point, however, and you approach Wyrran's throne, where the man himself sits pensively. Nodding to you with a frown, he stands up, and motions for you to head to the patio behind his throne. You both walk in silence, until you're both standing on the patio, leaning on the stone railing.

"I'm... glad to see you're up and about, Victor. I wasn't sure if you're be able to walk, so soon after the battle, even with our best healer taking care of you."

Quirking an eyebrow, you say, "So soon? How long was I out this time?"

Wyrran deliberates as if to tell you, but he sighs. "You were out for almost a full week, Victor. It was necessary, for our Master Healer to take care of you. Your wounds were... extensive, to say the least. They turned the stomachs of some of my most hardened warriors, if that tells you anything."

Looking at you, he says, "So I am legitimately happy to see you up and well, even if it's for Cellica's sake. She views you as a friend, even though you haven't known each other very long."

>"So, why'd you want me to come up here? I wasn't under the impression that you would be too happy to see me."
>"So, why did you want me to see you as soon as possible?"
>"Why were you so angry, earlier?"
>Write-in.

>>1251622
>"So, why did you want me to see you as soon as possible? I wasn't under the impression that you would be too happy to see me."

>>1251622
>For what it's worth Wyrran, I'm sorry.

>>1251629
>>1251641
Combining.

>Writing.

>>1251622

"For what it's worth, Wyrran, I'm sorry." You place a hand on his shoulder, awkwardly. "I didn't mean for any of... that to happen."

Sighing, the elf nods. "I know, I know."

Leaning against the stone railing once more, you ask, "So, why'd you want me to come up here? I wasn't under the impression that you would be too happy to see me."

Wyrran laughs softly. "I wasn't. Initially." Looking at you, he motions to his city below.

"My people are... passionate. No matter what pursuit they follow, they do the best they can, and whatever they feel, they feel it tenfold. We're not like our brothers and sisters across the sea, austere and restrained. But... as quickly as an emotion comes..."

He makes a little poof gesture. "It's gone. I had a week to think about everything. And my concern for my daughter was more important than my anger towards you." He nods to a window above the patio. "Luckily, her wounds were less severe than yours. Although I don't want her doing anything too crazy anytime soon."

Laughing, Wyrran says, "Of course, that could be the overprotective father in me talking. She's an adult, now, but she'll always be my little girl."

"So... she's fine?"

"Yeah, she is. Although I wouldn't let her see you, no matter how much she begged. Wouldn't want her to see you as you were." Motioning to the window, he said, "If'n you want, we can go see her now. Of course, you might not have anything to tell her since she's LISTENING RIGHT NOW let's go, shall we?"

You hear a quiet yelp from above you, and see Wyrran chuckle. Following him out of the throne room, and up stairs, you think back on what he said in the battle. You honestly expected that to go a lot worse than it did. Opening the door, you enter Cellica's room.

It's a bright, open thing, with a fairly large bed at the center, but all around the room are bookshelves, filled with tons of books, enough to put a small monastery to shame. Sitting, at a desk in front of the window, trying to be poised, is Cellica, pretending to read a book. Looking up, Cellica smiles.

"Ah, hello Victor! Are you feeling better?"

>"A bit sore, but I'm feeling better, thanks for asking."
>"I'm fine. I'm just glad you're okay."
>"Yeah, you?"
>"So you've been cooped up in the tower for a week?"
>Write-in.

>>1251622
>"Yeah, you?"

>>1251843
make fun of her for trying to look cool and nonchalant

>>1251843
>>"A bit sore, but I'm feeling better, thanks for asking."
"Yourself?"
>>1251866
Supporting

>>1251843
>"Yeah, you?"

Athinar, how badly did we get fucked up? Can we tall from our scars?

>>1251843
>"A bit sore, but I'm feeling better, thanks for asking."
>Inquire as to what she's reading

>>1251887
Scars are bandaged, and the bandages are concealed by your tunic.

In true heroic fashion, your rugged face is untouched

gotta wait for a blade to give you a nice heroic scar

>>1251896
>Not becoming the Hound
What is wrong with you, QM

>>1251907
Because I don't like nasty burn wounds

also, magic healing

>"A bit sore, but I'm feeling better, thanks for asking."
>Make fun of her

>Writing

>>1251843

"A bit sore, but I'm feeling better, thanks for asking. So, Cellica, are you enjoying the view out that window?"

Cellica smiles, trying to act nonchalant. "Y-yeah, I am. It's a good view, and it gives me natural light, to read my book."

You point to the thick book on her desk, asking, "Oh, that's good. What're you reading, there?"

She stammers. "T-this? It's... um... why don't you take a look?" Slamming the book shut, she holds the book in front of you, where you see something that makes you, and Wyrran double over laughing.

She's holding the book upside down.

At first confused by your laughter, Cellica takes a look at the cover, and realizes her gaffe. Face turning an impressive shade of red, she holds up the book, blocking her face from view. "Stop, c'mon, it's not funny!"

Shaking his head, Wyrran walks forward, patting her head. "I'm sorry, Celly, but it really is." Grumbling, she slams the book down on the desk, crossing her arms. Standing up, Cellica looks at you, almost pouting.

"I'm sorry, I can't help it, y-you're right below me! It isn't my fault that my room is right here."

Chuckling, you say, "I know, I know. So, how've you been?"

"Oh, I'm fine, but I'm feeling a bit cooped up, because Father here," she elbows him in the ribs, "Doesn't want me to leave the tower."

Rolling her eyes, she continues, "Protective of his 'little girl'. Sometimes, I swear..."

Chuckling, Wyrran hugs her from behind. "You know I do it because I love you, Celly."

Sighing, she turns around to return the hug. "Yeah..."

Releasing her from the hug, Wyrran looks at Cellica. "So. There's something we have to talk about, now that Victor is ready to travel." Curious, Cellica looks at her father, raising an eyebrow. "I know you were going to leave with Victor."

She freezes, and begins to smile nervously, but Wyrran hushes her before she can stammer out an excuse. "Don't worry. Just because I don't usually let people leave Mornaur, doesn't mean nobody can leave. You're my daughter. No one would question it. Well, speak up about it, anyways. It's your choice. Do you want to go with him?"

Hesitating, Cellica nods with a growing smile. Looking at you, Wyrran asks, "And you, Victor? Will you accept an 'Official Ambassador' of the Wood Elves of Mornaur, and allow her to travel with you?"

>"Of course! She's come with us this far, and I wouldn't want to leave my new friend behind."
>"Sure, why not?"
>"Sure, it'll help us establish official relations with the nearest nation."
>"I don't know, I wouldn't want her to get hurt like she did in the Matriarch's tent..."
>"No, but I'll visit Mornaur if I'm in the area."
>Write-in.

>>1252066
>>Write-in.
"To be perfectly honest, I think she'd come anyway if I said no. Regardless, i'd love to have her."

>>1252066
>(Teasing) It would be an honour to have such a fair lady accompany this unsightly knight

>>1252085
Supporting.

>>1252091
Whatever do you mean, QM? I am just a lowly anon writing in an approrpriate response.

>>1252085
Seconding...

>>1252136
Man, replying to posts that aren't there. Anons must be going crazy.

>"To be perfectly honest, I think she'd come anyway if I said no. Regardless, i'd love to have her."

>Writing.

>>1252066

"To be perfectly honest, I think she'd come anyway if I said no. Regardless, i'd love to have her."

Smiling, Cellica says, "Great! And, well, even if it's truethat'sbesidesthepointsinceyousaidyesANYWAYS!"

Cellica pushes the two of you out. "I've gotta get ready, so, both of you, out! Can't travel in this dress!" Allowing yourself to be led out, you look at Wyrran, who shrugs.

"Well, she did get that from her mother. Can't blame me for everything."

Shaking your head, you go down the stairs with Wyrran. When you reach the level with his throne room, he claps you on the shoulder, and looks at you in the eyes. "This is where we say goodbye. I've got to be in my throne room, in case anyone needs to bring anything to my attention."

Surprised, you ask, "You hold an open court?"

Wyrran waves aside the question. "Yes, yes. But, you know how angry I was, back there in the Matriarch's tent?"

You nod, remembering his look of fury. He leans in, keeping that mild smile, but his voice getting low, and dangerous. "If anything happens to her, I will have your balls on a pike." Letting go of your shoulder, and smiling brightly, Wyrran says, "Farewell, Victor! May the forest guide your steps."

And with that, he is gone.

Well then.

-----------------------------------------------

After that, it was a simple matter of getting the men ready to ride, and getting Cellica a new horse from Wyrran's stables. She looked incredibly sad about it, thinking of her old mare, Solana, but she smiled, and waved off any questions. Riding out, you reached the edge of the forest by nightfall, and made camp just inside the treeline.

Leaving at dawn, you rode across the plains, at the head of the column with Sigmund and Cellica, at a quicker pace than normal. You didn't want to get caught out in the open again.

After riding for a few hours, your outriders sight the camp on the horizon. You smile, thinking of everyone you left behind, Marcus, Edgar, Natalia. It'll be good to see them again.

-----------------------------------------------

Riding into camp, you lead Cellica to the Teuton Master of Horses, and help her off her horse. Looking to you, she says, "Well, what do we do now?"

>"We take the Nuckleavee heads and the map Father MacAodhagain made to our leader, St. Herard."
>"We tell him about what happened to us."
>"We introduce the 'Ambassador' of Mornaur, of course."
>"Get you settled somewhere. I know someone who might let you stay with her."
>Write-in.

>>1252354
>"We take the Nuckleavee heads and the map Father MacAodhagain made to our leader, St. Herard."

>>1252354
>>"We take the Nuckleavee heads and the map Father MacAodhagain made to our leader, St. Herard."

>"We take the Nuckleavee heads and the map Father MacAodhagain made to our leader, St. Herard."

>Writing

>>1252354
>"We take the Nuckleavee heads and the map Father MacAodhagain made to our leader, St. Herard."

>>1252354

"We take the Nuckleavee heads and the map Father MacAodhagain made to our leader, St. Herard."

Nodding, Cellica wrinkles her nose as you open your saddlebag, taking out the horse-head within, wrapped in your tabard. It reeks! Holding the head with two hands, you share an unpleasant look with Cellica.

It smells like some horrid combination of sulfur and human flesh, almost like how you smelled when you were burning, but this scent carries an edge to it, a hidden evil. Can evil be communicated by scent?

Making your way to your tent, you see Leopold, the knight with the rider-head standing uncomfortably, head in his hands. Grimacing, you try and greet him but gag, as the smell is somehow compounded by being near the other head!

Holding your breath as much as you can, you nod towards the center of the camp, where Herard's command tent stands. As you pass a group of knights, who are approaching you, smiling, welcoming you back, you try to warn them off, but your efforts are in vain, as they take a sniff and immediately turn back, hacking and wheezing, faces turning green.

You make it a bit farther, and, oh no, is that Marcus? Marcus, no! Marcus, stay back-

"Oh, Victor, welcome back! Let me tell you of what-" He turns green and starts dry heaving, bent over.

Edgar rushes up. "Milord! Milord! Mi- BWWAAAAAAGH" Edgar actually vomits onto the ground, tears falling from his face from the smell alone. Please, let that be the last one- Oh LORD, have mercy. Natalia is approaching you.

(Cont.)

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>>1252633
"Ah, Victor, I see you have returned. Let's compare our travels- Ah, what's that?" Natalia, surprisingly, seems to be only mildly off-put by the smell. However, you can't talk, shaking your head, lungs burning. She looks at your trail of destruction through the camp, and back at you, shrugging. "Alright then. I'll be waiting at your tent."

Nodding, you, Cellica, and Leopold stumble forward, husks of your former selves, waiting for the sweet release of death- THERE. Herard's tent stands in front of you, and you throw the head in, and as the smell departs you, you take a deep breath, hacking and wheezing. Bending over, placing your hands on your knees, you take several deep breaths, and stand up, looking at Cellica and Leopold.

Cellica looks as if she's about to faint, like a stiff breeze could knock her over, and Leopold's face is completely grey. Patting her lightly on the back, you give Cellica a weak smile and say, "We've only got a little bit longer to go, alright?" She nods, dazed, and you enter the tent, where St. Herard is holding the horse-head, unwrapping the tabard.

Looking to you quizzically, Herard holds the partially unwrapped head up, and asks, "So, mind telling me why you threw this in my tent?"

>"Yes, sir, sorry, sir. It's... the stench. Anyways, let me tell you of our journey."
>"That's the head of a demon we beheaded in the Wilde Jaege. And it reeks."
>"I was going to die if I had to breathe in that stench any longer. It took out eight Knights and a squire on the way here."
>Write-in.

>>1252642

>"That's the head of a demon we beheaded in the Wilde Jaege. And it reeks."

>>1252642
>"That's the head of a demon we beheaded in the Wilde Jaege. And it reeks, felling eight knights and a squire on the way here."

>>1252657
Supporting

>>1252642
>"I was going to die if I had to breathe in that stench any longer. It took out eight Knights and a squire on the way here."
Natalia confirmed for daemon-kin, already used to and okay with daemon smell.

>"That's the head of a demon we beheaded in the Wilde Jaege. And it reeks, felling eight knights and a squire on the way here."

>Writing

>>1252642

"That's the head of a demon we beheaded in the Wilde Jaege. And it reeks, felling eight knights and a squire on the way here."

Raising his eyebrows, Herard sets the head on the table, and unwraps it. Next to him, Leopold sets the head down, and then stumbles out of the tent. Looking at the head, he notes the cyclopic eye, and says, "Nokk'lve?" Nodding, you stand at the war table, setting down the map Father MacAodhagain made, rolling it out.

"We were chased by Wod and his Schwarz Hunde, and lost half our force." Nodding, Herard looks at the map over your shoulder.

"Aye. Ol One-Eye takes what h' wants. 'S a man 'f passion, for all his wisdom."

Surprised, you look at Herard. Isn't he a Saint of Christendom? He notes your glance and brushes it off. "I grew up in Noregr. I know the legends. So, a village?"

Nodding, you point at the village on the map. "Yes, sir. Father MacAodhagain stayed there to convert them, and I left four knights to guard the village."

Scratching his beard, Herard rumbles, considering the map one last time before looking at you. "Good call."

Uncertain, you say, "Thank you, sir. We went to a city, named Mornaur, populated by people, (not human,) called Wood Elves. This lady, her name is Cellica, she is their Ambassador, and the daughter of their Fineri, their... well, it's complicated, but their sort of-King."

Curtsying awkwardly, Cellica says, "Uh, hello, Sir. Victor has been a great help, and I look forward to liaising with you all."

Herard stares at her, inscrutable eyes causing her to pause, but he shrugs. "Very well. Victor brought you here. You stick with him. Handle your settling in."

Bowing again, Cellica smiles, but starts backing out of the tent. "Thank you, sir. Now, if I might go, I need some fresh air." Before you can say anything, she turns around and runs, leaving the tentflap... flapping in her wake.

Herard lets out a low rumble, that you presume is a laugh. "I like her." Sitting down at his chair, he takes the map, and starts to work on adding it to a large sheet, which already has a few markings. "You can go. Pages 'll handle the heads."

"Thank you, sir." Walking out of the tent, you gasp. Fresh air!

Walking forward, you find yourself comforted by the men around you, even if it is a war-camp. The sounds of men and beast are familiar, calming, unlike the relative quiet of the woods, which is unfamiliar to you. You can do several things, now that you're off-duty. Ahead of you, Marcus is lying facedown on the ground,groaning. Alternatively, you could find Edgar, tell him you've returned, tell him about your journey. Or, you could go back to your tent, talk to Natalia and rest.

>(Go talk to Marcus.)
>(Find Edgar.)
>(Go to your tent)
>Write-in.

>>1252882
>(Go talk to Marcus.)
>(Find Edgar.)

>>1252882
>(Go talk to Marcus.)
>(Find Edgar.)

>(Go talk to Marcus.)
>(Find Edgar.)

>Writing.

>>1252882

Walking over to Marcus, you lean over, and tap his shoulder.

"Mrph."

"Marcus. Marcus you're eating dirt."

"Dun care. Better than smelling. Muh nose is gonna fall off."

"C'mon, Marcus. Get up."

Groaning. Marcus flips over onto his back, looking at you blearily. Face covered in dust, he blinks the coarse dirt out of his eyes before focusing on you. "What... What even WAS that, man? That was rancid."

Holding out a hand for him to take, you help him to his feet, and steady him when he staggers, stumbling towards you. "That was a demon's head, Marcus. So it probably did smell like Lucifer passing wind."

Chuckling weakly, he stands on his own, holding his head. "That it did." Shaking his head, and slapping his cheeks several times, he revives himself, and looks at you. "So, how was your journey?"

Pointing to Edgar, who is limply draped over a barrel, you say,

>"Oh, there's my squire. So, I was chased by the Wilde Jaege..."
>"Let's talk while we walk, tell this story while I get Edgar."
>"I'd prefer to tell this story back in my tent, don't want to keep retelling it. So let's get Edgar there first."
>Write-in.

>>1253050
>>"Oh, there's my squire. So, I was chased by the Wilde Jaege..."

>>1253050
>"Oh, there's my squire. So, I was chased by the Wilde Jaege..."

>"Oh, there's my squire. So, I was chased by the Wilde Jaege..."

>Writing

>>1253050
"Oh, there's my squire. So, I was chased by the Wilde Jaege, and Woden himself, you know, the Huntmaster, from the legends, was after me, with his black hounds."

Marcus looks enthralled, and motions for you to go on, as you walk towards Edgar. "We led them in a chase from the woods across the nearby moor, away from the village we stayed at for a few days. Half of the men died there, but- come on Edgar, get up, there's a lad, but I managed to deflect the Huntmaster's arrows."

"Were they the size of swords, like in the legends?"

Nodding, you affirm this, while picking up Edgar between you. "Practically impaled anyone they hit. Anyways, after we were charging for hours, near dawn, (it was raining, did I mention that?) and this horse-and-rider demon, a Nuckleavee, appears before us, trying to cut off our charge. It had these weird, stretchy arms, and rubbery flesh- come on, Edgar, don't retch again," you stand still for a bit, helping Edgar settle his stomach.

"And I killed it, slicing off its' arms as it grabbed for me, and then stabbed it as I passed it." Marcus looks distant, possibly imagining the events you're describing. Walking forward, helping Edgar to your tent, you continue.

"And after that, the dawn broke through the rain, and we stood victorious. After that, we returned to the village and buried our fallen brothers."

Marcus sobers after hearing that, but he still laughs. "A fine tale, my brother! You brought the wrath of the LORD to daemon, and that battlefield will soon have a name, I expect!"

Chuckling, you say, "That's a bit optimistic, but I appreciate the sentiment."


(Cont.)

>>1253284

Walking in silence for a bit, to take it all in, Marcus simply walks alongside you. "You know, your life always was like one of those epics that the travelling bards told us. A duke, eldest son of a Prince, and a Knight of an Order, goes to war for the LORD, and now, a twist in your tale. I'm just glad to be here to witness it, to be honest." He flashes you a quick smile. "Although I wouldn't mine making some stories of my own alongside you, someday."

Reaching out, over Edgar, to clap a hand on his shoulder you smile. "I look forward to it, my friend." Reaching your tent, you see Natalia waiting outside patiently, listening to Cellica chattering on about something.

Drawing near, you listen to what she's saying. "...and then we fought this big Dark Elf, and freed all these prisoners, and- Oh hi Victor!" She waves to you.

Smiling, you nod to the tent. "Let's have introductions inside, shall we?"

Inside the tent, you set Edgar down on the ground, leaning against the side of your travelling chest, and sit on top of it yourself, beckoning Marcus to sit next to you. Natalia sits in your chair, and Cellica, your cot.

"So, Lady Natalia, this is Marcus and Cellica, Cellica, this is Marcus and Lady Natalia. Marcus, this is Cellica and Natalia." Pointing to your squire, you add, "And that's Edgar."

>"So, Lady Natalia, what of your expedition? What happened?"
>"Let me tell you of my journey, Milady, for I have quite the tale to tell."
>"I'll let Cellica handle the story."
>Write-in.

>>1253287
>"So, Lady Natalia, what of your expedition? What happened?"
>"Let me tell you of my journey, Milady, for I have quite the tale to tell."

>>1253287
>I see Cellica has started on her tales, I'll let her finish it.

>>1253287
>"So, Lady Natalia, what of your expedition? What happened?"
>"I'll let Cellica handle the story."

Alright, I'm gonna call this one here, more in the afternoon EST.

>>1253287
>"So, Lady Natalia, what of your expedition? What happened?"
>"I'll let Cellica handle the story."

>>1253287
>Ask Cellica and Natalia for a threesome

>>1253677
Roll me 1d20 for charisma, worst of three.

Rolled 19, 6, 13 = 38 (3d20)

>>1253692

Rolled 12 (1d20)

>>1253692

Rolled 7 (1d20)

>>1253692

>>1253350
Supporting this

Apologies, I've been sick. Only now have I felt ambulatory enough to get out of bed for more than a half hour, but unfortunately, I don't feel up to writing tonight. Tomorrow if I feel better.

>>1256495
Flush your system with filtered water and fruit.

>>1256534
Thanks, anon. I'm feeling better today, I should be able to post.

>>1259120

Glad to hear you're doing better, make sure to put some electrolytes in you and we'll be here when you post

>>1259418

Next post should be soon, within the next 2 hours.

>>1259452

Look forward to it, I am digging the quest

>"So, Lady Natalia, what of your expedition? What happened?"
>"I'll let Cellica handle the story."

>Writing

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>>1253287

"So, Lady Natalia, what of your expedition? What happened? As for ours, I'll let Cellica handle the story of ours, she's probably told you most of it."

Shifting in her seat slightly, smiling, Natalia leans back, and begins to recount her story.

"Well, as you remember, I led my expedition to the northwest of the camp, into the mountains..."

-------------------------------------------

O SHIT PERSPECTIVE SHIFT

You are Nobilodonna Natalia Baldoni Eufrasia Cusimano, of the Holy Templar Order and you are leaving the camp behind you, leading a warband of fifty men, all in the white-and-red of the Templar order. Ahead of you, the mountain range looms overhead, like black monoliths in a sea of green.

Beside you, however, is the single most annoying Brother of the Faith you have ever met, throughout Christendom.

Chattering on, and on, ceaselessly, about whatever small thought enters his fat, greasy head, is Brother Giulio Del Giorno, Brother of the Sicilian Abbey. And he won't. Shut. Up.

Staring ahead, you continue to nod politely, wearing a tight grin that the Brother doesn't seem to notice is false, hoping that he'll get bored and fall quiet on his own. Unfortunately, that doesn't seem to be happening anytime in the near future.

"... and that is why, mia belladonna, I have COMPLETE AND UTTER faith in my abilities to guide us spiritually through these times of trial. Yes, Father Ernesto is the better speaker, but I, surely have the deeper faith, wouldn't you agree?"

>"Yes, humble, too."
>"Signore, if you don't quiet yourself, I might hit a man of the cloth for the first time."
>"Of course, O fratello pomposo, of course."
>Write-in.

>>1259879
>"Yes, humble, too."

>>1259879
>>"Yes, humble, too."

>>1259879
>"Yes, humble, humble, too."

>"Yes, humble, too."

>Writing.

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>>1259879

"Yes, humble, too." You say this with a dull look on your face, eyes glazing over. However, he takes it as a compliment, and beams, jowls jiggling as he bounces along on his donkey.

"Yes, exactly! I am a [i]paragon[/i] of humility! I am as humble as the Virgin Mother! As Saint Brendan! As Saint Patrick bringing the word of the LORD to the heathen Irish! As..." You tune him out, as he blathers on. What did you do to deserve this Brother being loosed upon you? Is this penance for some grievous sin?

Staring forward, you look at the distant mountains. From the looks of it, there is a valley that leads up into the range, providing an easy way up. Eyes trailing up the mountain, you follow the patterns of snow and rock as best you can, at this distance.

The snow-blasted peaks of the mountains seem to gaze down at you, like silent watchers, and you shiver a little. That feeling of being watched intensifies as you stare at the peaks, so you tear your gaze away.

That... was strange.

Your attention is suddenly brought back to the ground, however, as you notice something between you and the mountains, on the plain. Squinting, you see a thin smudge of darkness in the otherwise-blue sky, and follow it back to the ground. Smoke?

"... and I would have been Abbot too if not for Ernesto and his-" You cut him off swiftly, with a curt motion of your hand.

Turning to your second, a loyal young man named Nicodemo Faletti, you say...

>"Send five scouts forward at a gallop. Find out what that is."
>"Set ten men as outriders, five to the fore, and five to the rear. Smoke means a battle or a fire, and we cannot be caught unawares by either.
>"We ride in formation until we reach the smoke, where we will then form battle lines, while I figure out what is going on."
>Write-in.

>>1260171
>>"Send five scouts forward at a gallop. Find out what that is."

>>1260171
>>"Set ten men as outriders, five to the fore, and five to the rear. Smoke means a battle or a fire, and we cannot be caught unawares by either.

>>1260171
>"Set ten men as outriders, five to the fore, and five to the rear. Smoke means a battle or a fire, and we cannot be caught unawares by either.

>"Set ten men as outriders, five to the fore, and five to the rear. Smoke means a battle or a fire, and we cannot be caught unawares by either."

>Writing.

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>>1260171

"Set ten men as outriders, five to the fore, and five to the rear. Smoke means a battle or a fire, and we cannot be caught unawares by either."

Nodding, Nicodemo falls back a bit, and he tells the first five men to ride forward at a trot, and then the next five to wait until they're behind the warband to follow. Turning to Brother Giulio, you say, with relief, "I'm sorry, Brother, but you must ride at the middle of the column, for your safety, of course."

Looking at you with disbelief and shock, the fat man does all he can to not fall off the ass on his ass. "But- but belladonna, we haven't finished our [i]delightful[/i] conversation!"

Smiling, this time genuinely, you try to inject any kind of sadness, regret, or disappointment into your voice as you let him down.

You fail.

"I'm sorry, Brother, but please, I insist, for your safety."

Grumbling, he concedes, and you let out a sigh of relief. LORD Almighty, he was annoying! All who serve the LORD are blessed, but he is probably less blessed than others. At least you hope so.

As he rides to the middle of the column, you mutter, "In culo a tua madre." God, it felt good to say that, even if it wasn't to his face. Then, you chastise yourself for saying that about a Brother in Christ Jesus.

Watching the outriders... ride out, you listen to the peaceful, peaceful silence as Nico rides beside you. The quiet young man is a welcome change to the fat braggart.

And so you ride.

-----------------------------------

As you get closer to the source of the smoke, a light smog fills the air. What could've caused that much smoke?

As the smoke cloud gets darker and darker, and you push on, you hear the hoofbeats of the outriders to the fore riding back, at a gallop. Reining in before you, the head rider gives you a salute, and gives his report.

"Madam! A burning village has been spotted ahead! What are your instructions?"

>"Form scouting parties of ten each, and see if you can find any survivors."
>"We form a perimeter around the village, and I go in with five men, to see if I can find anything."
>"Nothing. We ride on to the mountains."
>Write-in.

>>1260498
>"Form scouting parties of ten each, and see if you can find any survivors."

And keep a sharp eye out, those who set fire to it might still be around

>>1260498
>>"Form scouting parties of ten each, and see if you can find any survivors."

>>1260498
>>"Form scouting parties of ten each, and see if you can find any survivors."

>>1260514
Second

>"Form scouting parties of ten each, and see if you can find any survivors."

>Writing.

>>1260498

You raise your voice so the entire column can hear you. "Form scouting parties of ten each, and see if you can find any survivors." Saluting,
they group up into five parties, and you join the one with Nico.

As you ride towards the village, you hear Brother Del Giorno blubber as you ride off, "But... but what about me?"

Waving at him backhandedly, you say, "Stay here, Brother. You are not meant for this type of situation. Leave this to the ones trained for something like this."

Listening to his sputtering as you ride off, you look around the village as you enter, for any clues, staying wary of the raging flames. The village was mostly wood, with some stone foundations, but there are many collapsed sod huts around the wooden town center. This was a sizable village, almost a small town. What could've burnt it down?

Corpses litter the streets, mostly burned villagers, but there are a few with recognizable weapon wounds, here and there. The corpses are holding weapons, so it appears that they didn't go down without a fight.

As the homes of villagers burn down around you, you... hear something, faintly, over the crackling of the flames. Holding up a fist, you signal for your group to halt, and you pause, listening, trying to hear whatever it is.

>Roll 1d20, BO3
>Roll 1d4

Rolled 12 + 1 (1d20 + 1)

>>1260803

>>1260815
that was supposed to be a d20 and a d4

Rolled 15 (1d20)

>>1260803

>>1260815
Also, that +1 bonus is for Victor, not Natalia.

Rolled 3 (1d4)

>>1260803

Rolled 14 (1d20)

>>1260803
Have a roll.

Rolled 2 (1d4)

>>1260880
And another.

Rolled 5 (1d20)

>>1260803

Rolled 1 (1d4)

>>1260902

>15, 3

>Writing.

>>1260953

Hopefully that's high enough to not get ambushed

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111 KB JPG

>>1260803

There. Over the howling wind, crackling flames, and creaking timbers of the village, you hear it. A faint scream. A woman.

Listening for a second, you determine the direction, (north,) and rush off, saying, "I hear something! Follow me!"

Galloping through the streets, over corpses and through smoke, you follow a road, as the screams get louder and louder. Your men close behind, you spot figures through the smoke. Getting closer, you see them more clearly, and they are... Old Roman Legionaires?

They stand just outside the village, dragging a woman out of a burning building, clutching her child. It doesn't appear to be a rescue. Gritting your teeth, you kick your horse to a gallop, unslinging your mace, gripping it tightly. As you get closer and closer, the five Legionnaires notice you, and throw the woman to the ground roughly, unsheathing their gladius, and raising their tower shields.

A tense moment is shared between your two sides, both sizing the other up, while the head Legionnaire simply stares into your eyes, the dead look burning into your soul. He is the first to speak up.

"Who are you, and why are you in a Stercoris village?"

>"I might say the same. Why have you attacked this place?"
>"Let the woman go. Then we talk."
>(Say nothing, charge them.)
>Write-in.

>>1261056
>>"I might say the same. Why have you attacked this place?"

>>1261056
>"I might say the same. Why have you attacked this place?"

>>1261056
>"Let the woman go. Then we talk."

>"I might say the same. Why have you attacked this place?"

>Writing.

>>1261056

[i]Keep a level head, level head....[/i]

You stare back, coolly.

"I might say the same. Why have you attacked this place?"

The Legionnaire smirks at your (relatively) calm response, as if he can see you simmering with rage. "These Stercoris refused to join the Glorious Empire of Lightning, and defied the order of Remus Caesar to bend their knee. So, we came to... persuade them."

Shrugging, and motioning to the burning village around you, he says, in a mock-regretful voice, "Alas, we could not make them see reason." Chuckling evilly, with his compatriots all sharing dark looks, he points to the terrified woman and her child. "So, we're... taking our dues, so to speak."

Nodding, furious, you say, "I see. And why do you call them Dung?"

The man laughs, and grabs the woman, pulling her to her feet, showing her to you. "Why? Can't you see her halfbreeding? Look at her!" He holds up her arm, revealing tanned skin, darker than the olive of the Legionnaires'. "Disgusting! Human filth, is what they are."

Your men are getting increasingly agitated. They, for the most part, have no quarrel with the Spaniards, and this woman is at risk of being enslaved, or worse. The Legionnaires eye you nervously, and the lead man says, "So, can we leave? I'd like to get back to the slave column before the day ends, Lieutenants are allowed to take certain... liberties." He looks at the woman lecherously, causing her to squirm in his grasp.

>"No. You die."
>"Of course. I have no right to stop you."
>(Say nothing, charge.)
>(Say nothing, turn around.)
>Write-in.

>>1261340
>>(Say nothing, charge.)
DEUS VULT!

>>1261340
>How much to take her off your hand?
No need to spark a war, yet

>>1261340
>(Say nothing, charge.)

DEUS VULT

>>1261340
>>(Say nothing, charge.)

>>1261340
>(Say nothing, turn around.)
Not our fight.

>(Say nothing, charge.)

>Writing.

>>1261518
You do realize we're warriors of faith, right? You honestly think any self respecting christian would go, "Nah, not my business", and let a woman get raped/enslaved?

>>1261545
Warroirs of OUR faith. Do you think any self respecting Templar would threaten the lives of all their men to save some foreign stranger .

>>1261606
*Ahem* Missionaries *Ahem*

>>1261606
Yes, considering wars have been started to convert said foreign stranger.

>>1261340

You say nothing, instead, kick your horse forward, surprising everyone. However, your men were on edge already, and they follow, swords flying free of their scabbards.

The legionnaires, however, are completely caught off guard, even with their massive shields raised. The leader, however, springs into action quickly, throwing the woman aside, letting her slam into a crumbling wall. Raising his shield, he stands firm, in your way.

Swinging down at the man with your mace, you catch his shield in the middle, denting it severely. You see him wince, and drop his guard for a second, and you lash out with your steel boot, kicking him in the side of the head, causing him to drop like a puppet with cut strings.

Charging into the men, your warhorse takes a few stabs with their gladius, but luckily they're deflected by the armor and the padding he wears. Smashing one's head in with your mace, while having your horse kick one, you hold their attention until your men arrive, and by then, as if it weren't one-sided enough, your men arrive, outnumbering them more than 2 to 1.

It turns into a bloody slaughter, as they try to futilely guard themselves against your blows. Their tower shields can only do so much, against ten angry men and one furious woman on horseback, heavily armored.

When it's over, you're breathing heavily, red tinging the corners of your vision. Your anger almost got away from you, there, but it's justifiable, like....

You blink. What were you thinking about, again?

Ah. Yes. The woman. Dismounting, you walk over to the woman, tossing your reins to Nico. Approaching the woman, who stares up at you fearfully, you bend down, reaching out a hand.

>"Hello, please, don't be afraid. We're here to help you."
>"Please, tell us what happened here. Who were those men."
>"Are you okay? Are you injured? What about your child?"
>Write-in.

>>1261642
Wars are started to convert large amounts of foreigners. There don't seem to be any of these left. It would seem to be better to try to convert the Romans.

>>1261688
>>"Are you okay? Are you injured? What about your child?"

>>1261688
>>"Are you okay? Are you injured? What about your child?"

>>1261688
>"Hello, please, don't be afraid. We're here to help you."
>"Please, tell us what happened here. Who were those men."

>>1261696
What the fuck are you talking about?

>>1261688
>>"Please, tell us what happened here. Who were those men."
>>"Are you okay? Are you injured? What about your child?"

>>1261696
>Convert Romans

What religion do you think Romans are?

>>1261719
It's stupid to fight to save this woman. If we leave her behind she could die to more Empire troops, and if we take her with us then they will end up as more a drain on our resources.

>>1261735
There's something called morals here mate.

>>1261735
You do realize we have an entire warcamp, right? Do you think one woman and a child will drain our resources much?

>>1261735
Your logic still makes no real sense. You are assuming that we do not have enough resources for a single woman. Or transportation. Or that leaving her to die will accomplish anything.

>>1261735
we could also just drop her off at the human village in forest

>>1261783
Right now we don't know it exists.
>>1261763
Leaving her to die could curry goodwill with the Romans, and we might be able to wheel a map out of it.
>>1261761
Have lots of resources doesn't mean that you should spend them nilly willy.

>>1261817
Or, we can not be fucking pussies and slaughter the heathens. This is Fantasy Crusader quest, not "suck roman cock Quest"

>>1261817
We already killed a bunch of romans you dipshit. And why would they care what we did with the woman?

>>1261833
And you know they are heathens how?

>>1261688
>"Are you okay? Are you injured? What about your child?"
>"Are you okay? Are you injured? What about your child?"

>Writing.

>>1261840
Dude. They were going to rape the woman.

They are heathens. Sub-Human filth. Human waste.

They need to be purged.

>>1261846
>"Please, tell us what happened here. Who were those men."

Fuck, this is second option.

>>1261840
well their either heathens or Muslims considering they enslave people. so
DEUS VULT
E L
U U
SUED TLUV

>>1261840
Do you even read the firts fucking thread. We're not in Earth

>>1261875
Ok. How the fuck would this character know they were not on earth anymore. These scout parties are to fucking find other Christian nations.
>>1261866
Your right, Catholic's never enslaved people.
>>1261854
Maybe he was going to marry her afterwards. We'll never know.

>>1261906
>Maybe he was going to marry her afterwards. We'll never know.
Ok, now you are just being autistic for the sake of being autistic. Nobody can be this retarded.

>>1261906
Put your name back on Trip.

So we started a war with an empire. Well shit.

>>1261906
They fcking know. Re read the previous threads carefully.

>>1261906
Yes after the rise of colonization, we're crusaders from the 12th century whose only involvement with slavery is Muslims raiding every coastal town in the Mediterranean.

>>1261933
I never use a trip.
>>1261923
How is this austicit?
>>1261960
I'm sorry but I won't. Can you tell me how they would know?
>>1261970
While they might not be called slaves, being a serf is pretty shit.

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108 KB JPG

>>1262008
How can one anon be this dumb?

>>1261688

"Are you okay? Are you injured? What about your child?"

Your kind tone of voice, your caring words, completely at odds with your surroundings or the blood all over your mace, makes her, trembling, crawl forward to you, clutching her child with one hand, and you with the other. Holding her gently, you wait patiently for her to speak.

Sniffing and sobbing, the woman looks up at you, grateful. "I- I'm ok-kay. Ju-just b-bruised. Little Kostana is fine, I protected her. Th-thank you, miss."

Holding her, you pat her back, and shake your head, smiling. "It's just a part of my duty. I am Natalia Cusimano, and you?"

Sniffling, wiping Kostana's tears away, the woman stutters, "I- I'm Ez-Ez- Ezmerelda Crole. Th-th-thank you."

"Well, Ezmerelda, could you help me? Please, tell me what happened here. Who were those men?"

Ezmerelda sobs. "Th-they're... they're the Legion. E-ever since the Imp-perium was f-founded, th-they've hated m-my people... call us 'Shit' and 'Dung' and 'Ha-Halfbreeds'... We keep ru-running farther and farther, and they keep expanding, it's not fair, it's not! I came here to get away..." She breaks down into tears.

Patting her back, you help her to her feet.

"Ezmerelda..."

>"... come on, let me help you get on my horse. I know a place that you'll be safe."
>"... it'll be okay, now. Come with me."
>"... run, try and get to a place that's safe. To the southwest, is a camp. Say you know Natalia, they'll help you."
>Write-in.

>>1262066
>>"... come on, let me help you get on my horse. I know a place that you'll be safe."

>>1262066
>"... it'll be okay, now. Come with me."

>>1262066
>"... run, try and get to a place that's safe. To the southwest, is a camp. Say you know Natalia, they'll help you."

I dont think we should go back this early for just one person, nor take them on a possibly dangerous ride.

>>1262066
>Get one guy to escort her back
>Continue your expedition

Switching from
>>1262085
to this:
>>1262087

>Get one guy to escort her back
>Continue your expedition

>Writing.

>>1262066

"...I'm going to send you and your daughter with one of my men, back somewhere safe, okay? He'll take care of you, and settle you in my tent, okay?"

Sniffling, Ezmerelda nods, and looks up at you, smiling through her tears. "Th-thank you, you're a g-great person."

Shaking your head, you smile. "I'm not, I'm just doing my Holy Duty, ma'am. Geno!" A dark-skinned Sicilian man raises an eyebrow, saluting. "Take Ezmerelda back to camp, settle her in my tent. Make sure that she gets the best treatment, okay? She's a guest."

Nodding slowly, Geno holds out a hand for the woman, and you boost her up, helping her on the horse. She waves back at you, giving you a grateful look.

Smiling as she goes, you walk towards the concussed Legionnaire Lieutenant. Standing above him, you consider your options.

You could kill him. He's a rapist, a slaver, and a probable murderer. Or, you could pump him for information. The choice is yours.

>Kill him.
>Interrogate him.
>Write-in.

>>1262329
>>Interrogate him.
We need information about this world we're in. We can kill him afterwards.

>>1262347
Agreed

>>1262329
Why not both?


I'm not sure where Crusader Orders stood on the use of torture against heathens, but I'm sure we can confess later and absolve ourselves.

We don't have to kill him actually.

I know for a fact that the contemporary punishment under Anglo-Saxxon law was gelding. If he survives the gelding, that is God's will. Either way he will never rape again.

>>1262390
Shit dude, fucking metal.

I like it.

>Interrogate him through gelding.

>Writing.

I'm gonna call this thread here, more to come tomorrow.

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15 KB JPG

>>1262473
Oh OP, we should offer him a choice of course. He can choose death or gelding. If he talks, we'll make sure our men staunch his bleeding afterwards.

But he has to choose. We're not barbarians, now are we?

File: 4e9.png (637 KB, 312x454)

637 KB PNG

>>1262503
FUKKEN SICK

I LOVE IT

>>1262329

Kneeling down, you kick the man in the gut, causing him to groan. Flipping his leather skirt up, you pull out your dagger, and place the cold tip of your blade against his balls.

"Hold him down, men."

Your knights spring into action, each pinning a separate limb, while Nico grabs his head in an iron grip, and forces him to look at you. Terrified and bleary-eyed, the man struggles weakly while you speak to him in an ice-cold voice.

"Now. There are two ways we can do this. You tell me what I need to know, and you only lose your balls, and I'll staunch the bleeding. Now, if you don't tell me what I need to know, you become a eunuch AND you bleed to death, or burn in a fire. Whichever happens first. Do we understand each other?"

Staring up at you, the legionnaire growls and spits, a glob of saliva landing on your cheek. Wiping it off, calmly, you dig the tip into his privates until he cries out in pain. "Alright, alright you crazy bitch, I'll tell you!"

Keeping your face expressionless, you nod. "Good."


[i]Pick two.[/i]

>"Legion, Imperium, these names are useless to me without a direction. Where is the Imperium?"
>"Are there more of you in the area? Tell me!"
>"Why is Remus Caesar sending you after these people?"
>Write-in.

>>1264499
>Are there more of you in the area
>"Why is Remus Caesar sending you after these people?"

>>1264499
I mean we kind of HAVE to kill him. I propose we just end him quickly after he answered. No need to leave behind evidence of torture and remember no witnesses

>>1264499
>"Are there more of you in the area? Tell me!"
>"Why is Remus Caesar sending you after these people?"

>"Are there more of you in the area? Tell me!"
>"Why is Remus Caesar sending you after these people?"

>Writing.

>>1264499

Are there more of you in the area? Tell me!"

The Legionnaire groans, and nods.

"We were supposed to pick off stragglers and check the town- gah, that fuckin' hurts; for survivors. There's about thirty of us in all, the other forty are on their way back west with their slaves."

Considering this information, you ask another question. "Why is Remus Caesar sending you after these people?"

The Legionnaire growls in distaste. "They're Stercoris! We don't even need a reason-" You press your knife further into his balls, drawing blood, causing him to choke and cry a little. "Fine, fine! They're a symbol! We've been having troubles with slaveuprisingsandthatfuckinhurts- Slaves see these free villages as a place to run to, and once these shitstains- GAH that hurts; are wiped out, we'll have broken them!"

Nodding, you say, "This is acceptable. Thank you for your cooperation."

He shoots daggers with his glare, and mutters, "Well, considering you have a knife to my fuckin' balls-AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA"

Starting from the right, you slash left, and lop off his genitals. Grabbing the bloody things, you toss them into a house fire, leaving the man on the ground, trying to writhe in pain, but unable to, due to the men pinning him down. Looking around, you go over your options for dealing with him.

>(Smash his head in with a cornerstone, torch the body. Make it look like an accident.)
>(Slit his throat and toss him into a fire.)
>(Leave him to bleed out.)
>Write-in.

And how will you deal with the bodies of his comrades?

>(Drag them into a collapsing building.)
>(Toss them into a fire as well.)
>(Leave them.)
>Write-in.

>>1264827
>(Leave him to bleed out.)
>(Leave them.)
Under our protection, assholes.

>>1264827
>(Slit his throat and toss him into a fire.)
>(Toss them into a fire as well.)

>>1264827
Toss them all into the burning building

>Put them into a fire.

>Writing.

>>1264943
Strip them first. Make them to be the killed villager

>>1264827

Taking your knife, and flipping it so that it's pointing down, you say, "Nico, step back." As he does, you bend down, and jam your knife into his throat, moving it back and forth. He tries to say something, eyes wide, but blood fills his throat quickly, causing it to come out as a gurgle.

Nodding to your men, who look at you coolly, you say, "Toss him and the other bodies into the house fire. The fire will remove any evidence."

Saluting, they get to work, and you mount up quickly, scanning the streets around you. The fire hasn't gotten much worse, but the flames still rage around you.

Beside you, Nico quietly says, "We're done, ma'am. The bodies are disposed of."

Motioning to your men, you kick your horse forward. "We need to find the rest of the teams, and form up. We will then hunt the rest of the hunting group that stayed behind in the village, and determine what to do after that." Saluting you, your men keep an eye out, wary of more Romans.

Riding through the burning streets, you eventually hear men shouting, and metal clashing.

Going forth at a gallop, you turn to see, in the market square, nine of your men circling four Legionnaires. To your right, several terrified-looking men and women, six in all, stand chained together, attached by their chains to a precariously-leaning stone building.

On the ground, one of your men lies wounded, a pilum through his leg, and he is surrounded by the corpses of Legionnaires.

What do you do?

>(Charge towards the Legionnaires, wiping them out.)
>(Help the chained townsfolk free.)
>(Recover the wounded man.)
>Write-in.

>>1265119
>>(Help the chained townsfolk free.)
Then.
>(Charge towards the Legionnaires, wiping them out.)

>>1265119
>>(Charge towards the Legionnaires, wiping them out.)

>>1265119
>Charge the legionaries
>Send one of the men to recover the wounded men
>Send another to help the chained folk

>>1265133
Changing to this.

>>1265133
This sounds nice.

>>1265133

This

>Charge the legionaries
>Send one of the men to recover the wounded men
>Send another to help the chained folk

>Writing.

>>1265119

"Men!" You call out to the men circling the Legionnaires. "Disperse!"

Acting on your order, recognizing your voice immediately, the men surrounding the Romans(?) moved away, as you ride forth, charging at the four men.

"Nico! Chained people! Go!" Nodding, Nico veers off to help the townsfolk get free.

"You!" You point at a random Templar, and point at your wounded Brother. "Help him get out of the marketplace, wait at the intersection!" He salutes, and goes off to perform his task.

Now you can focus fully on the thing you're best at.

>Roll 1d20, BO3.

Rolled 12 (1d20)

>>1265304
DEUS VULT!!!

Rolled 11 (1d20)

>>1265304

Rolled 20 (1d20)

>>1265304

DEUS VULT

>20

Well then.

>Writing.

>>1265339

GOD WILLS IT

WE ARE HIS INSTRUMENT

>>1265339
WE SMITE THESE HEATHENS IN THE NAME OF OUR LORD!

>>1265304

These men are scum. Less than scum. They are less than the dirt beneath your heel. Less than the worms of corpses, maggots.

They are dead men walking.

Charging forward, you let your warhorse ram the man facing you, knocking him back with a scream, trampling him beneath your warhorse's hooves. Swinging with your mace, you cave in one of the Legionnaire's skulls, turning it into bloody pulp.

Seeing their friends die, the last two begin to run away, but you aren't gonna let them. Oh no.

Leaping from your horse, you tackle one to the ground, shoving his face into the dirt, and when you stand up, throw your mace at the back of the final Roman(?)'s head. Crunching his helm like paper, and his skull as well, he drops to the ground, like a puppet with cut strings.

Growling, you sit on the Legionnaire's chest, and removing his helm, you slam his head into the compact dirt repeatedly, the ground getting progressively more bloody with each blow. Pounding his head into the ground, you keep at it until his head is a bloody mess, and your hands are covered in gore.

Breathing heavily, you stand up again, and look to your men. Nico has rescued the townsfolk, and set them free, just in time, too, as the wall they were standing under crumbles and falls, burning and crushing. The wounded man is safely out of the market square with his Brother, his injury bound.

Grabbing your mace from the Legionnaire's head, you shake off the gore from your weapon and hands, and mount your horse, which waits nearby. You notice your men staring at you. Rolling your eyes, you motion forward.

"C'mon, let us find our brethren. No time to dawdle." This galvanizes them, and they follow you. Riding to Nico and the townsfolk, you look down at the grateful villagers, and say...

>"Each of you get on the back of a horse. My men will take you to the edge of the village."
>"Run, and get to the edge of the village, and wait there. One of my men will escort you."
>"Run, and head Southeast. There, you will find a camp. Say you come from Natalia."
>Write-in.

>>1265545
I think it's high time we return to camp
Take the villagers back to camp

>>1265545
>"Run, and get to the edge of the village, and wait there. One of my men will escort you."

We can't spare anymore but at the same time they're under our protection now and thus will receive that protection

>>1265545
>>"Run, and get to the edge of the village, and wait there. One of my men will escort you."

>"Run, and get to the edge of the village, and wait there. One of my men will escort you."

>Writing.

>>1265545
>>"Run, and get to the edge of the village, and wait there. One of my men will escort you."

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136 KB JPG

>>1265545

"Run, and get to the edge of the village, and wait there. One of my men will escort you."

Nodding, thanking you, you point to a nearby Templar and say, "Guard them with your life. Stay wary." The man salutes you, and follows behind the running townsfolk, standing guard.

Calling your men into formation, you continue riding through the streets, looking for any sign of your men, townsfolk, or legionnaires. Coming across an alleyway, you hear a peculiar sound. The rush of flame, that comes from nowhere.

Looking down the alley, you see several roasted corpses, lying before a hooded man. The man looks up at you with a disinterested glance.

"Oh. More of you? Well, I suppose this has to happen. Sorry about this."

He raises his hands, and fire appears hovering between his hands.

He's a sorcerer.

Shit.

---------------------------------------------------

And that concludes it for this thread! More to come soon! Thanks for playing!

>>1265745

Thanks for running QM, looking forward to the next one