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/qst/ - Quests

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Previous threads:

Last time, our hero Krystal cloned herself, made a deal with a Duke, and got sick on her birthday. It's been a week, and her sickness has worn off, which is convenient, because it's time to retake the city of Diluvium, which was ravaged by out-of-control storms over a year ago. It's rumored that the Death Pauldrons, a "creatively-named" paladin order devoted to the god of fire, is on their way as well.
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You straighten your armor and look down on the two dozen or so paladins you'll be taking with you.
The most prominent are Faervel and Jaylen, your personal bodyguards, Kunzom, the orcish blacksmith/berserker, and Gareth, a thief you recruited and put in charge of finances. He did a surprisingly good job.
Your crusaders are equipped with spears, halberds, swords, shields, and somewhat primitive rifles. You have two weird hovering carts full of supplies, as well as two scouts on giant hawks.

>[]Rousing speech! (Write-in)
>[]Well... let's go!
>[]You have this whistle that Alagos said summoned a dragon... you don't really believe in handicapping yourself.
>>[]Well... let's go!
>[]Well... let's go!
You look around at the crusaders.
"Well, we're all ready. Let's go."
You hop onto one of the floating carts and send it moving southwest. Your army follows, and the scouts go ahead to look for any possible obstacles.
They return within about two hours. One of them lands his hawk next to you.
"Imperator, we've confirmed the presence of Death Pauldrons near the entrance to Diluvium. They're about a dozen strong, probably had some casualties down in the city proper. They tried to throw rocks at us... it didn't go well, they might have another out of commission."
"Thank you, Radir. Keep searching, we don't want to be surprised by any reinforcements."
He nods and takes off again. You take out a map, correct your course by a few degrees, and do the math.
It's about eighty-six miles to Diluvium. The army is traveling at about a speed of... five miles an hour? Give or take. That means it'll take around 20 hours to get there, not counting breaks. So you should get there by around this time tomorrow, leaving the whole day to scout out the city and come up with a plan. The Death Pauldrons shouldn't be too much of a problem. In theory, anyway. You outnumber them two to one and have guns.
You fold up your map and take a look at your surroundings. Rolling hills, some children screwing around to your left, the planet's rings casting interesting shadows before you... you don't regret leaving Earth.
A loud CRACK breaks the silence and a lead projectile whizzes past your head. You leap off the cart and stride toward the paladin who had been playing with his gun.
Okay, you regret it a little bit.
You sigh and ladle yourself some soup, looking up at the moon.
"We're nearly there..." you assure yourself, glancing back toward your camp.

>[]Join one of the groups by a campfire. Might as well get to know your subordinates.
>[]Get your advisors, you should plan for your scouting trip.
>[]Just eat then go to sleep. You're tired.
>[]Get your advisors, you should plan for your scouting trip.
You get Faervel, Jaylen, Gareth and Rolland together.
"Okay, where was the... here it is."
You spread a map of Diluvium out on a flat rock and take a look at it.
The city is located within caverns dug into sea cliffs. You're currently standing on top of those. The western cavern had a wall built to keep any raiders at bay, as well as prevent any undue flooding. The city proper serves as the entrance to Diluvium, as well as housing for those who don't want to live underground. An elevator leads down to the financial district, which connects to the central cavern via a tunnel. More tunnels split off to three more areas, those being the upper ward, which is closest to the sea and housing the main castle and cathedral, the shipyards, and the prison ward. The central district includes some large gardens and yet more housing.
You run your chin. "I'm assuming we need to get to the castle to consecrate the city... could we take a boat? It's much faster that way."
Rolland shakes his head.
"Efforts have already been made. It seems the Seawall is still manned, and the revenants remember how to use the cannons... and to attempt to scale the wall would be unwise. Besides, the shipyard gates were probably shut to prevent flooding."
You nod. Yeah, you expected as much.

>[]Could we try rappelling down the cliff face, come at the wall from above?
>[]Safest option is to work out way through the city. We should go straight for the castle, exploring unnecessarily would take too much time.
>[]There's no rush, especially if we kill the Death Pauldrons. Might as well make sure all threats are eliminated before we go to the castle. There might be loot or artifacts, too.
>[](write in your own plan. I'll see about drawing a map later)
>[]There's no rush, especially if we kill the Death Pauldrons. Might as well make sure all threats are eliminated before we go to the castle. There might be loot or artifacts, too.
"We should be thorough. Sweep the city out systematically. Don't want to find out there's some beast that's moved in, or that we missed some artifact."
Your advisors seem to approve. You frown. Where was..? Oh, right. Crystal had stayed behind to study magic.
"Well, our overall strategy seems solid. We'll just have to apply it to whatever we find down there. I'll be going to bed, we all need a good night's sleep."
You lay your bedroll out in your tent and sigh. The city proper should be fine... the Death Pauldrons are staying there, and any survivors or revenants probably would've wandered off by now.
You close your eyes and turn onto your side. You should probably be feeling more nervous about this.
You signal the army to stop and peer into the distance.
Yep. That's the entrance. It's a large town of sorts built around a sort of natural monolith, leading down underground. You approach, and the group of Death Pauldrons standing near the entrance ready their weapons, looking at you uneasily.

>[]Negotiate. Maybe you can get them to leave quietly. (Roll 1d20)
>[]Use the whistle. If it's limited use, might as well use it above ground.
>[]Get your soldiers into firing positions. (Roll 1d20)
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Lore bump.

"Death, the self-explanatory god, is usually seen as a grim figure, taking the souls of the departed to an unknown fate. In reality, according to his Order, he's a rather pleasant person, if soft spoken. He takes the time to escort every soul to the afterlife, providing comfort after a traumatic experience. Imagine if you had to go by yourself!"
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>almost two days without any replies
I know you guys are probably busy, but if I'm doing something retarded that might drive people away from this quest, please let me know.
Ive been lurking here since the very beginning. I liked the original idea and our OG boy although what you are doing now isn't bad. It just seems like you threw everything away as soon as we got into hell and just changed everything from the original plan. It may be tough but I think a reset is in order as there is about 1 or 2 active posters and starting over could bring more followers. That said, all of this is just a suggestion
Rolled 16 (1d20)


>[]Get your soldiers into firing positions. (Roll 1d20)
(I'll have to consider that... I'd like to finish the Diluvium arc/mission at least, because I actually planned some things this time instead of just making it up as I go)
I'm flattered that someone's lurking.
You give the command to spread out and flank the enemy before hopping off the floating cart and leading the main body of your force forward. The leader of the Death Pauldrons, or so you assume, anyway, steps forward. Glancing disgustedly at your holy symbol, he speaks.
"Alagos worshippers, is it? Well, I expected this."
He shouts, and his men pick up their weapons.
"If it were up to me, I'd leave ye' to have that accursed pile of shite down there. Unfortunately... it's Ruin's call. I'm not too livid though. If I die here, at least it's to someone livin'."
Well, you've got no choice.
Gunfire rings out around the city proper, from your force as well as from a few buildings the flankers had occupied. Three Pauldrons go down, several are wounded. Their leader charges forward, swinging his flail...
You wipe your sword on the fallen leader's tabard before burning his body with holy light. "Casualties?"
"Four of ours are dead. Six wounded, but they'll be healed shortly."
You rub your chin. You can work with that.
"What are your orders, Imperator?"

>[]We're going in. Let's not put the adrenaline to waste.
>[]We'll rest for now. Can't just go charging in.
>We'll rest for now. Can't just go charging in.
"We'll make camp for now. Regain our strength, maybe send a scouting party."
Rolland nods and sets off. You don't need tents for this, the buildings are perfectly good shelter, if slightly damp.
Jaylen and Faervel walk over, flicking blood off their weapons.
"That went as well as I expected it to..." Faervel sighed, kicking a dented knee plate down the street.
"There was bound to be someone that didn't like us. I'm happy, spikes are better for entangling!" Jaylen replied.
"If you say so. So, Krystal, when are we going down?"

>[]Tomorrow. Need a good night's sleep.
>[]As soon as everyone's ready.
>[]In a bit. I'll send a scout down while everyone's resting. (You? Gareth? Some random soldier?)
>Tomorrow. Need a good night's sleep.
You look up at the sun. Should be around noon in a bit...
"We're going first thing tomorrow. We should take a day of rest, properly send off our fallen comrades."
Faervel shrugs. "Well, I suppose a break would be welcome. We traveled an entire day yesterday."
You split up to find shelter. Maybe you should take a nap...

(Perspective Switch: Alagos!)

You-dammit why did you think this was a good idea.
Sasha's starting to get affected by maternal hormones. She just now attacked you, sucked some blood out of your jugular, then promptly started blubbering all over you.
You don't know where she is now, you're busy looking for a wall strong enough for you to smash your head onto more than five times without it breaking. It's been a fruitless endeavor so far.
You pass Pris in the hallway. At least she was low-maintenance, even if she did have a worrying amount of vibrator controllers strapped to her legs... seriously, where was she getting those?
You step outside onto the moon's surface, looking up at Syreth. Krystal's doing pretty well down there...
You hear clanking and crashing on your right, and turn to see... some kind of ebony spider thing the size of a city skittering your way. It stops, and you hear an all-too-familiar voice ring out.
"Ooooooooooh, my favorite."

>[]What do you want?
>[]You're not dealing with this right now. Maybe you could pay a visit to Krystal. Or K-julba, he's been doing a nice job on Yklar-B.

>[]What do you want?

Then mybe end up rideing it
You growl and unsheathe your sword, leaping toward Ruin's spider thing.
The god of fire leaps off his contraption and plummets toward you, bringing his... that's a sword? Looks more like a surfboard designed by Chaos. Ah, well. It'll be easier to hit.
CLANG! Both your weapons groan as they're forced to withstand tons of pressure.
"Well, she weeded out the weak ones, right?"
You push off and land a fair distance from Ruin, extending your hand and shooting a bolt of lightning at the god of fire.
It would've been enough to blow out the walls of a regular castle, but Ruin's sword absorbed pretty much all of it. He retaliates with a stream of fire, which you quickly snuff out with wind.

Roll 1d20!
Rolled 1 (1d20)

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You wind up and throw your sword. It spins uselessly and *tink*s right off Ruin's armor.
Ruin takes the opportunity to charge at you. His greatsword's spikes dig into you, and you're carried up and subsequently down into the ground.
Ruin wrenches his sword from your body and steps on your chest.
"I didn't do anything, it was Krystal... oh... oh it hurts..."
Ruin gives you a kick in the ribs (a god kick. Your ribs are in splinters now) for good measure, before jumping back on his demon spider and riding away.
You wait until your body's finished healing to get up and walk back inside your castle. Might as well put that star field in your study like you were meaning to.
Sasha latches onto you as soon as you come inside.
"I think you did very good, Master!"
What happened to first-name basis? Maybe you should ask the god of patience to babysit her.

>[]Switch back to Krystal.
>[]Have a talk with Sasha. Is she really okay with this..?
>[]Try to get everyone pissed at Ruin so you can gank him. (How dishonorable...)

[]Have a talk with Sasha. Is she really okay with this..?
]Have a talk with Sasha. Is she really okay with this..?
You and she sit down on the couch. She presses herself into you, despite there being plenty of room.
"Yes, what is it?"
Sasha smiles at you.
"Well, I was wondering if you were actually okay with this whole... situation. I mean, I pretty much mind-raped and kidnapped you. Then there's the whole pregnancy thing, and--look, I don't want to keep you here if you don't want to be. I can ask Aeneth, she can probably send you back--"
Sasha shushes you and absentmindedly rubs her stomach. It was just barely starting to get distended.
"Alagos... I've been thinking about that for a while now. And while you have been a gigantic asshole, as Krystal would put it, what with your sleeping around... I still love you. It might just be Stockholm syndrome, but I feel a lot happier than I did before I met you."
"Oh... good to know."
Sasha seems mostly content with your response. You sit on the couch a while longer.
"...what should we name her?"
"Who says it's a her?"

(Name outsource time! Suggest something nice, then we'll switch back to Krystal)
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I must've missed a [/blue somewhere.
Alagos II
"Hmm... why not Sasha II? I like that one better."
"Meh. We've got plenty of time to think about it."


You wake with a start, pulling yourself up from the armchair you had found in an abandoned house. How long did you sleep..? It's definitely early morning, and you're pretty hungry. Ah, well. Time for a morning jog in 60 pounds of armor.
You set out for a quick lap around the city proper, pausing and peering at the moon.
...you thought you saw fire. Probably not. It's a pretty big moon, so the flame would have to be huge to see it from here.
You hear a slight shuffling noise and turn to the source. Someone was shambling down the road, carrying a spear... fuck.

Roll 1d20!
Rolled 5 (1d20)

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It lunges forward with startling speed, grazing your neck and stabbing you in the gut. You manage to back away and press your hand to the wound.
"Fuck, that hurts!" you growl, staying out of spear-length.
The corpse was pretty decayed, but there was no doubt it was Patches. Took him long enough to find you.
You reach for your sword--shit, you left it back at the house. You didn't think you'd need it...

>[]Hand to hand combat (1d20)
>[]Run back, try to dodge him and grab your stuff.
Rolled 2 (1d20)

>Hand to hand combat (1d20)
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You wind up and land a haymaker straight into Patches' disgusting, maggot-infested face. He didn't even flinch, instead taking the opportunity to chop off your left arm.
You fall over as you back away, gritting your teeth and doing your best to stay awake.
A bullet streaks past Patches' head.
"Everyone up! The Imperator's wounded!"
Patches swings his spear toward your head, but is blasted off his feet before he can reach you. Someone lifts you into a sitting position.
"Imperator, are you alright--"
"FUCKING NO! Dammit, we were supposed to go down today..."

>[]Grow your arm back with slime, see what the healer can do about your guts.
>[]Get me a gun. I need to kill him myself.
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Lore bump.

"In death, many have been wronged. I have given the wronged a gift, to repay their murderers in full. The wronged were grateful, but some were unable to repay their debtors. I will allow them another gift. Take up the symbol of my cause, and precious few foes will stand in your way. Those that survive will not lightly forget thy wrath..."

-Mortem Lexicanum; verse 6
>Grow your arm back with slime, see what the healer can do about your guts.
You grunt and get onto your feet.
"Imperator, your arm--"
"Stabbed me in the gut. Fix that first. Need water..."
Jaylen rubs past you and swings her whip toward Patches. A spark catches and the revenant silently burns.
You turn your stub into slime and dip it into a rain barrel, reforming your arm. All that's left is some stinging in that area.
The healer removes your breastplate and lifts up your shirt, focusing on your abdomen. The blood and gore slowly slide back to their original places, and your wound closes up, leaving only a faint scar.
You feel like you're gonna puke, but everything else is fine.
Jaylen walks up.
"Oh, thank Alagos! You're okay. I found this on that thing."
She hands you some sort of holy symbol depicting a sword impaling a skull. It gives you a vague feeling of dread. You put it in your pocket with a Death Pauldron's symbol you had taken earlier. Who knows, maybe you can find a use for these things.
Faervel and Gareth jog over and gawk at your bloodstained shirt.
"What happened!?"

>[]I'll tell you on the way down.
>[]I killed some guy a while ago and forgot to burn the body. Oops.
>[]He must've been killed near here. Just attacked me out of nowhere.
>I killed some guy a while ago and forgot to burn the body. Oops.
"Huh. You didn't know about revenants then, I guess. It turned out mostly okay--"
"I RECOGNIZED THAT FUCKER!" one of the paladins shouted, standing up suddenly.
"It took me a while to figure it out... that was Honest Patches, right? You killed him, Imperator?"
"Yeah, I did. He kept throwing me off a cliff and pissed me off."
The paladin nodded in satisfaction and spat at the ashes. "Good. Kicked me off a cliff, but I could never give concrete proof."
The healer hands you your severed arm. It's turned into a somewhat chunkier version of your slime, and the leather straps have been severed. You've got replacements, so that's not too much of an issue. Your breastplate should be easily patched as well. Won't be perfect, but it'd hold.

>[]Make preparations and head down into the city.
>[]Send a scouting party first. Might as well make sure there wasn't a cave-in or something.
>[]You're kind of scared about this... Delay the mission on account of your wounds.
>Make preparations and head down into the city.
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After some quick repairs to your armor, you gather your supplies and assemble at the city entrance. You cast a light spell and lead the way down.
It's pretty boring. Smooth walls, some kind of traction runes to keep people from sliding down the slopes floor. There's some kind of tracks in the side of the wall, probably for some kind of elevator. Probably broken or stalled--dammit, your spell just went out.
You continue forward as you recast your spell, regretting your decision immediately as you feel your right foot skid on something.
You tumble down some kind of gravel slope, the confused voices of your army echoing behind you. You eventually roll to a stop just as your light spell delights itself.
Big slope... you won't be able to toss your grappling hook up.
"Krystal! Are you--"
Faervel looks down at you.
"Where did... this wasn't here a second ago!"

>[]I'll explore this way. It might be a shortcut past all the dead people.
>[]Keep going, I'll run through this as fast as possible and try to get back to you.
>[]Leave me for the cave monsters, I'm done for.
>Leave me for the cave monsters, I'm done for.
You sit up and shrug.
"Fuck it. I'm dead. I'll just sit down here until Gollum comes and eats me."
"Wha--you're obligated as Imperator to at least try and find a way out!" Faervel shouted, throwing a small rock at your helmet.
"Fine." you grunt, pulling yourself to your feet and staring down the tunnel.
"Why do I feel like this place is gonna be a bitch..." you mutter, unholstering your gun.
"We'll see if we can find the other end. If not... I guess we'll have to go get a rope. Don't die!"
The convoy passes the hole and continues down into the city. You start walking down the tunnel. Might as well see if there's a pile of skeletons to die on.

Roll 1d20.
Rolled 11 (1d20)

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So far, it's been even more boring than the passage into the city. Sure, it's creepy, but once that wears off it's--
A multi-legged thing drops from the ceiling and lunges at you, impaling itself on your outstretched sword. You kick it off and shudder, staring at its corpse.
This thing is a fucking atrocity. You burn it with your laser spell and continue on our way, gagging at the smell of burning spider hair.
You pass several piles of bleached bones on your way, as well as a few other spidery things. You shoot them, it's not worth the effort to fight them head-on.
The tunnel slowly begins to widen out into a small-ish cave. You think you can see an exit on the far side.

>[]Head for the far side.
>[]Take it slow. Something might be hiding in here...
>[]Run for the door as fast as possible.
>Take it slow. Something might be hiding in here...
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You lift your shield and peek into the corners of the room, sticking close to the wall. Nothing hiding there...
You look up to see one of the spider creatures, though it was bloated and had a humanoid body on one end. It drops from the ceiling and screeches, leaking yellowish pus.

Roll 1d20.
Rolled 17 (1d20)

The spider lunges forward, lashing out with it's claws. You step right out of the way and plunge your sword straight into one of the blisters on it's thorax. It pops with a sickening squelch and the spider bellows in pain, wheeling around to face you. It spits pus at you, causing your breastplate to start smoking and corroding.

>[]Shoot at it until it's dead.
>[]Go for the legs, this thing's pretty fast.
>[]Aim for it's neck.
(Roll 1d20 regardless of choice)
Rolled 5 (1d20)

>Shoot at it until it's dead.
You draw your gun and shoot at the thing. It dodges your shots and skitters in close, lashing at your torso with its mandibles and front legs. Several holes are punctured in your armor, and you feel sharp pain in your abdomen. Fortunately, the lacerations seem to be shallow. You kick and stab at the spider until it backs off.

>[]Try again. It can't dodge forever.
>[]Use your sword. It's better for hacking legs off.
>[]Fire some lasers at it.
(I think you've got it by now, d20 every combat action)
Rolled 20 (1d20)

>Fire some lasers at it
You extend your hand and fire a beam of light at the creature. It burns through the hide, exposing organs and setting the thing on fire. It panics and skitters around before succumbing to the flames. A small blue pearl rolls away from the burnt husk, which you pick up.
>[]Learn dimensional storage magic instantly.
(Pick an upgrade along with your next prompt)
>[]Charge your sword with lightning.
>[]Dash around the battlefield! (Works through semi-permeable barriers like bars)
You sheathe your sword and walk to the other side of the room. The passage out has a somewhat hidden alcove, containing a skeleton wearing a chestplate of that whitish material you've been seeing. You gratefully exchange your nearly-broken piece for this one.
>Old armor completed! No idea what it does yet!

Well, at least you're not walking around full of holes. You sigh in relief as you emerge from the tunnel. Brick walls... so this is part of the city, at least. The question is which area.
Before you can find that out, you feel a glancing pain on the back of your neck, and collapse to the floor. The last thing you hear is someone calling out in an incomprehensible language.


You wake up on some sort of cot. The room you're in is made of the dark stone bricks as everything else, and a heavy iron door stands ominously to one side, letting faint light through the barred window. There's no handle, and you carry nothing except your clothes. Whoever knocked you out had the decency to dress your wounds, at least.

What do you do?
>Learn dimensional storage magic instantly.
>call out for someone.
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You concentrate and reach out in front of you, pulling an LSAT out of the air in front of you. Try and lock you in here, will they?
You return the rifle to the armory and look around the room.
This was getting boring.
Something slams into the cell door.
"Sho, Sylph doma!"
Someone fumbles with a ring of keys and opens your cell door. A purple demon lady enters and gestures for you to follow her.

>[]Do as she asks. Not that you can understand her.
>[]Bata, Daemonette doma.
>Do as she asks. Not that you can understand her.
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The daemonette leads you through a cell block of sorts, which probably means you're in the prison ward. At least you know where you are, kind of. Explains the tunnel, too.
You pass through a converted block, where cells are used for living space. More daemonettes live here, and a few hiss as you walk by. You have no idea what's going on with their breasts. Some have one, others have as many as six.
You're brought before a throne made from driftwood, torches, and skulls. Your escort pushes you onto your knees and calls out. The daemonette on the throne stands up and approaches you, grabbing your head in her hands and staring deep into your eyes. You feel a searing pain in the back of your skulls then release.
"Can you understand me now, you Sylph shit?" she asks, returning to her throne and sipping something from a rough stone cup.

>[]I mean you no harm, you don't have to be so rude.
>[]This isn't going too well. Time to shoot everyone.
>I mean you no harm, you don't have to be so rude.
"I don't want to hurt anyone, you don't have to treat me so badly."
The daemonette smiles.
"Surely you can't blame us. A Sylph walking into our village, carrying weapons and strange artifacts..."
She takes your gun out of a pouch on her waist. You notice she keeps her fingers far away from the trigger.
"This... thing is very interesting. A loud noise, followed by death. We have no need of it, but we cannot simply give it, or your weapons, back to you... unless you were to help us."
She puts your gun away and crosses her legs.
"See, the prisoners living here have finally died off, down to the last revenant... a shame, many of them provided spectacular entertainment. You have the look of death in your eyes. Why not fight with us? If you impress, we will give you your items and send you on your way. If you fall, your only reward will be death. You could simply walk away, but our warriors are rather... antsy."

>[]I'll do it.
>[]Summon the stormbolter. Why wait?
>[]Take your chances with the way out.
>Who are your enemies?
The shaman chuckled darkly.
"Enemies? Back home, it was the land itself, or anyone who came by and tried to conquer us..."
A servant brought her a bowl of slimy, pale fish. She takes one and bites it in half.
"But right now, I'd have to say our enemy is anyone who opposes us."
She popped the rest in her mouth and swallowed it whole.
"Your curiosity is admirable, but my request hasn't been answered yet..."

>[]I'll fight you or whatever.
>[]Three two one FIGHT (roll 1d20)
>[]I'd rather not... I'll be going.
>I'll fight you or whatever.
"I knew you'd accept."
She didn't give you much of a choice...
A smaller daemonette steps forward, looking somewhat nervous.
"Y-yes, Lady Yowai?"
"See to it our guest is fed. She will need her strength. She will be allowed to retrieve her things before the battle, as well."
Tsuyoi nods in acknowledgement and ushers you into a hovel, presumably hers.
"I think I had... yes." she mutters, fussing over a pot of some sort of stew. It smells different then anything you've ever smelled before.
"Managed to get a spider back there... have a little extra. Oh, sorry! What did you say your name was..?"

>[]I didn't.
>[]Krystal. Nice tits you got there.
>[]I'm Krystal. Nice to meet you.
>I'm Krystal. Nice to meet you.
Tsuyoi smiles.
"It's nice to meet you, too. Here, eat."
She places a bowl of stew in front of you and starts filling up her own.
You tentatively take a bite of a chunk of meat floating around. Pretty lean.
"I managed to kill a spider today, so I got to keep the extra."
Huh. She didn't really look like she could kill one of those things. Regardless, you have food. Even if it tastes weird. Well, the bright red plant stalks taste pretty good.
You place your hand on your wounds and channel a healing spell. You're topped off on energy, might as well.
Tsuyoi eats her stew and fidgets slightly, glancing at you every few seconds.

>[]Never seen a Sylph before?
>[]She's probably always like that. Ignore her and finish eating.
>[]When's the battle? I'd rather not be late.
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