>>1992671
>>Apologize for falling asleep [Conscientious]

>>1992671
>>Apologize for falling asleep [Conscientious]

>>1992671
>Say nothing, you were tired. There's nothing to apologize for. [Headstrong]
These noblemen's sons are going to try to walk all over us. Might as well establish right now that we're no doormat.

>>1992735
>>1992741

"Great--er, sincerest apologizes Noble Master Sarkon. I didn't mean to fall asleep, I-I was tired and the road was so smooth and the ride so easy--" He squeezes your shoulder, a small smile passing through his lips.
"Be easy, boy. Tis the mark of a good soldier to rest when he finds rest. I only woke you because we are here."
"What!" You pop your head out of the carriage window--immediately realizing how undignified that act just looked--but you don't care. You've never been 10 miles from the outskirts of your village, to see the great capital city in all its glory--your breath is snatched by the sight of the great wall alone. It stands like an impassable mountain, a sheer cliff of alabaster stone which a thousand hands must have labored 10,000 hours to erect.
The carriage moves through the tall gates and you get your first glimpse of the innards of the city.

Buildings rise so far above your head that they seem to cut up the sky into patchwork. Beyond them you can see small floating islands with chains that anchor them to the earth--lest they float away by wind. Upon each island is a tower and atop the tower the flag of a noble house. Only those blood-related to the Master of the Kingdom, Atuin, can abide here, in the capital.

The smells of the city overwhelm you. You, who have only known the smell of pig filth and smoked sausage and wet leaves in the rainy season, are exposed to the rich perfumes of flower and incense, lilac and myrrh in the air. Roasted flesh and voices in a twenty tongues you do not know or recognize. You sit back in the carriage, your heart pounding with excitement, fear, and even hope. The magnitude of the opportunity now starts to dawn upon you. A new life. A chance at something greater than raising pigs.

"The Academy is only a few miles hence." The carriage-master calls.
"Ah very good." Replies the Noble Master, leaning back and tapping his armrest. "We'll have to get you some new clothes and--you said you didn't know your letters?"
You shake your head, feeling your elation poisoned by shame.
"A tutor too then." He mutters, stroking his short beard. "Classes begin formally in two months. You'll have to learn by then." He says. "Can you manage it?"

>I'll try my best [Hardworking]
>I'll be done in two weeks. [Confident]
>I just have to win the wargames right? Let's not sweat the small stuff [Calm]

>>1992758
>>I'll try my best [Hardworking]

"I'll try my best." And you mean it. You feel a newfound admiration for this man, your benevolent patron. You would not make his expense or his effort on your behalf wasted. You would make him and your family and your kingdom proud.
Sir Sarkon pats your shoulder and smiles again. "Very good." He says, then turning to the carriage-master, "Stop here, would you?" Instantly the horses are brought to halt and Sir Sarkon dismounts the carriage, leaving you alone inside.
"I shall have the clothes sent to you by tonight. I have some other business to attend to now. I doubt we'll see each other for some time, so let me say this: do not forget your place, nor the place of your fellow students. They are blue-bloods. You are a peasant." You would take offence, but he says this in such ab easy and friendly manner that you can only receive it as the sincerest advice. "I tell you this because your patience will be tested, boy, and the headmaster will look for any reason to eliminate your from the academy. Be on your guard."

>Thank him and let him go [Gracious]
>Ask him why he went to such lengths for you [Curious]

>>1992792
>>Ask him why he went to such lengths for you [Curious]

>>1992792
>Ask him why he went to such lengths for you [Curious]
Why bring me here if I will be so easily dismissed?

>>1992792
>>Thank him and let him go [Gracious]

>>1992758
>I'll try my best [Hardworking]

Lets show that hard work and guts shall lead to glory, so that even peasant like us can get ahead in life

>>1992792
>Thank him and let him go [Gracious]

Rolled 1 (1d2)

Tie breaking with dice to keep things moving:

>>1992800
1
>>1992818
2

>>1992812
>>1992800
Sir Sarkon begins to close the carriage door, but a question pricks the back of your mind like a thorn and before you can stop yourself you air it.
"Master Sarkon."
He holds the door and swings it back open, questioning you with his eyebrows. "Master Sarkon, why...why did you choose me? Why did you go to such lengths to admit me into this place, when clearly they don't want me?"
His brows fall and his mood seems to sour. He looks down and kicks the dust. "There are reasons for all things boy, some of which you must learn when the time is right. For now, I offer this." He looks up at you. "You show promise and I want to see if it will bear fruit. The path of this kingdom will require good men to lead its soldiers. Competent men. And for that, I am willing to pay and pull strings and "go to such lengths"."
"I see." But really only more questions hav ebeen raised. "Thank you Master Sarkon. May all your paths lead to home."
He smiles, but you can tell now that there is no humor in it. "And likewise you to yours." And with that the door snaps shut and the carriage turns and weaves through several unmarked streets until it joins with a wide road--a main road by the sight of the other carriages and the street peddlers yelling their wares.
"So where you from kid?" Asks the carriage-master.

>Make small talk with the carriage-master [Social]
>Tell him your village name, but leave it at that [Introverted]

>>1992853
>Make small talk with the carriage-master [Social]

>>1992853
>>Make small talk with the carriage-master [Social]

>>1992853
>>Make small talk with the carriage-master [Social]

>>1992853
>>Tell him your village name, but leave it at that [Introverted]

>>1992863
>>1992871

You sense the carriage-master is just being friendly, perhaps trying to make you feel welcome because in a few moments you'll be surrounded by company you are not supposed to mix with. You decide to indulge him.

"From Rosnia, to the south."
"To the south! I'm from the south!"
"You're kidding." The kingdom is large enough that such a coincidence begins to border on miracle.
"No lies here, kiddo. From Scotsko. I even knew a girl from Rosnia, came for the path feast. Oh that was years back. Name was Boris, I think."
"Doris." You correct.
The carriage-master snaps his fingers. "Doris! That's exactly it. You know her?"
You nod, then realizing that he can't see you, you add, "Yes."
"How is old Doris? A beauty like her, you don't see everyday. Danced with her in the festival, late into the night. Never forget that nose of hers, like a drop of new snow against your cheek." He sighs tragically. "Never saw her again, after that. Broke my poor heart."
"She's married now." You say, remembering Doris's matronly face and trying to envision a time when it wasn't so plump and failing utterly. "She has 6 children. Married the village butcher, Guter. They're happy." You say, which is mostly a baseless assumption, but Guter is a good man so why not?

"Good. That's good. So...I mean I don't mean to pry but how'd you land this? You a...bastard or something?"
You frown. You hadn't considered that. Your earliest memory is being pelted with snow by your older brother. You were only 3 maybe 4 then. It's not impossible.
"No. I-" You sigh. "It's a bit of a long story."
"Is there a short version?"
"Well, I sort of...defended our village from some raiders."
"The Orlans." Says the carriage-master, spitting as he sounds the name.
"Right. Not a main band, one of their auxiliaries. They needed supplies I guess and they came and knocked. Tried diplomacy first, or what counts as diplomacy for Orlans. They wanted all our pigs and wheat stores. Without that we'd starve."
"Damn straight. It's wintertime coming up."
"Exactly. So we tried to parley."
"And?"
"And they took the elder's daughter. Took turns with her. Left her bleeding and bruised in the river. We found in her time but..."
The carriage-master clicks his tongue and spits at the earth again, with the same ferocity as though it were the face of a Orlan.
"Anyway, they left after that and said they were coming back in a few weeks, and to have everything ready. We had a council--they were going to do it the old fools, but I--somehow--was able to talk them out of it. So we drew up some maps instead, sent word to the Noble Master, had the smith work night and day for the whole week turning plows into spears, had everyone else make traps. Long story short, we gutted the lot of them. Captured a dozen horses to boot and some suits of armor. And by the time the reinforcements arrived, they weren't needed."
The carriage-master whistles and starts to clap. And despite yourself you blush.

Cont.

>>1992945
"Wish I coulda seen that." He says. "Orlans getting their heads smashed in. Like a rainbow after morning rain."
"It was one of our better days." You affirm. "Though a few of ours did get injured and the elder passed in the fight." You feel a sudden pang of guilt and horror, the scenes of carnage, horses gored by spears and Orlan's falling into the spiked pits and getting skewered and the elder with a spear through his chest, throwing up blood, choking on it. "It could've gone better." You say. It was your mistake. The elder didn't have to die.
"Can't do battle without a few casualties, kid. Though I guess you'll learn that soon enough." He says, and with that, you have arrived.

The Academy is an enormous facility, consisting of an entire gated enclosure, an entire section of the city cordoned off. You count 7 buildings, not as high as some of the ones you saw in the city and of older make, more castle-like and ornate. There is garden near the entrance and a fountain in the center of the entire facility where a statue of the Master of the Kingdom, Atuin, shoots water from his bow.

You can already spot a few students walking about the garden and the grounds, most of them in pairs chatting quietly. A few reclining on the many marble, backless benches scattered through the grounds and a few watching the approach of your carriage. To your great surprise you find that there are even female students among the male, and most of the students are around the same age you are and a few even younger.

All are dressed in the pristine uniform of nobility, and it seems unlike the footsoldiers or even the cavalry, the students here follow no dress code. Their heads are unshaven and their clothing is off many colors, signifying the wealth necessary to purchase the dyes.

The carriage stops at the main building, just in front of the fountain. "Good luck kid. I'll be rooting for you. Name's Castor, by the way. Look me up if you're ever in the city and find yourself in Ook's Tavern. Tell him I sent you, he'll give you a discount."
"Thanks, Castor. I'm..."

>Write-in

>>1992985
>Rosali...uh I mean Rosamund.

Hate to cut it so short so soon. But the crowd seems to have died. So I'm gonna get some sleep and try tomorrow morning.

>>1992985
Freyjadour Falenas

>>1992985
"Sean Archer"

>>1992985
Maximus.

>>1993573
>>1993612

You consider giving the carriage-master your full name, Sean Maximus Archer, but that kind of formalism is really reserved for things like your first marriage meeting or dramatic speeches.

"I'm Max." You say, opening the door of the carriage and stepping out into the sunlight. The carriage makes a U-turn around the fountain and you see Castor face to face. He has a rural kind of face, tanned and bony, indicating his time under the sun and his body under toil. He smiles at you. "May all your paths lead to home, Max." He says, waving.
"And you to yours." You wave back.

And then you're alone with many pairs of eyes on you and you feel suddenly self-conscious of your shabby clothes--clean though they (and you--the Noble Master had you take a bath) are. A young man wearing small round spectacles walks over to you, removing and putting his spectacles in his breast pocket. He is taller than you by an inch and a wearing an ornate blue uniform embroidered with gold. He has the look, bearing and even smell of a boy who has never seen a single day of hardship, nor done a single minute of hard labor.

"Are you lost peasant?" He asks, looking genuinely concerned--and a little disgusted, the very sight of you is enough to crinkle his nose.

>"I'm looking for the common dorms, I'm a new student." Show him your admission papers. [Honest]
>"Move aside silver spoon; I have no time to waste with you" [Proud]
>"Oh! Noble Master, thank the paths your here! Yes I am a bit lost...even though I just stepped out of a carriage into the exact center of the Academy grounds. I guess I'm just a stupid peasant, not like Noble Master." Flutter your eyes admiringly. [Derisive]

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>>1993716
Forgot the picture of the uniform.

>>1993716
>"I'm looking for the common dorms, I'm a new student." Show him your admission papers. [Honest]

buut take a step back. Last thing we need is for noble britches to grow a brain and snatch our papers to tear up.

>>1993737
I'll wait a few more minutes for a few more players to arrive. Remember to vote so I know you're here people.

>>1993716
>"I'm looking for the common dorms, I'm a new student." Show him your admission papers. [Honest]

>>1993737
Supporting.

>>1993716
>"I'm looking for the common dorms, I'm a new student." Show him your admission papers. [Honest]

>>1993716
>"Oh! Noble Master, thank the paths your here! Yes I am a bit lost...even though I just stepped out of a carriage into the exact center of the Academy grounds. I guess I'm just a stupid peasant, not like Noble Master." Flutter your eyes admiringly. [Derisive]

>>1993716
Will we be presented with multiple trait options and, after choosing it repeatedly, lose and acquire new traits?

>>1993737
>>1993751

You sigh. Nobles will be nobles you suppose. You take out your admission papers, a scroll of arm length coiled inside a leather case, on its rim is the seal of Master Sarkon, the eagle with golden eyes. This you brandish in front of the boy, but stepping back when he tries to touch it.
"Give it here, peasant!" He says. "You probably stole that from some poor noble."
People around you have stopped and are regarding the scene with rapt attention. "I won't ask again, peasant. Hand it over with all speed." Says the Noble, holding out his hand.
"No." You say. "I was told to keep this on my person at all times."
"You dare disobey me?" Is this what Sir Sarkon meant by your patience being tested? He wasn't wrong.
"What's going on here?" Says another voice, a young woman emerges from the gates of the building in front of you. She too wears noble's garb, fanciful lace and bow popular to the fashionable young ladies of the court and her curly hair tied back with red ribbon. Hers is a more regal bearing than the noble before you and when she walks the other students seem to subtly bow their heads and step aside.
"It's not your concern, Sarah." Says the noble, still glaring at you.
"Who is this?" Sarah asks, now close enough to smell. Strawberries--an impossibility since they don't grow in Karkain. She looks you up and down and you find yourself looking at your feet, so imperious is her gaze. "Who are you?" She asks.
"My name is Max--ahem, Sean Maximus Archer. From Rosnia. I was--that is, Noble Master Sarkon sent me. To study. Here." You inwardly curse yourself for tripping so easily on your words.
"He obviously stole the papers and--" Sarah gives the other noble a stern look and he whitens like a glass of milk, slinking back.
"Perhaps you should focus more on your leadership skills than antagonizing the new recruits Victor. You might be able to win the flag battles one of these days." A chorus of snickers passes through the crowd as the boy shoots poison from his eyes, at first at the crowd, then, inevitably, at you.
"I'm just looking for the common dorms." You mutter. Sarah's head turns back to you and smiles.
"Of course you are. Come with me, I'll take you to the boy's dorms." She says.

>Go with her
>Ask to see a teacher first

>>1993788
Yes it's possible to lose traits or get them replaced by stronger versions.

>>1993798
>Go with her

>>1993798
>Go with her

>>1993798
>Go with her

>>1993798
>Go with her

The girl seems amiable enough and you didn't see her stick her nose up at you, so she can't be all bad. You follow her and as before the crowd of students (for a crowd gathered the moment she stepped out) part as she walks, all their eyes on the lady and the new recruit.

You walk in silence for a few minutes, taking in the sights. The boy's dorm seems to be on the western most side of the Academy grounds, so that you must walk through the garden where several boys are practicing their archery and swordsmanship. They stop to stare at the strange procession and then catch themselves and give a slight bow to Sarah. Strange. You'd almost think she was the Master of the Kingdom, Atuin.

Perhaps it would be good to get into this person's good graces. Make up for the poor first impression back there.

>Attempt to socialize with Sarah (Roll 1d20 bo3)
>Keep silent, if she wanted to talk to you, she would've said something

Rolled 1 (1d20)

>>1993818
>Attempt to socialize with Sarah
Because we obviously need to develop some confidence. Badly.

>>1993831
Wew lad

>>1993831
WELL WE ARE BECOMING A NEET. I'M SO SORRY EVERYBODY.

Rolled 8 (1d20)

>>1993818
>Attempt to socialize with Sarah (Roll 1d20 bo3)
Just rolling for the hell of it.

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>>1993831

It's a worth a shot. You could use a friend that has some influence in this place. You jog up to her, walking beside her; she doesn't turn.
"Lady Sarah?"
"Hmm?"
"Who was that boy back there?"
"Ah." She crinkles her brow. "That was the son of Gadfreel, of the house of Tuskan, one of the blood-brothers to the Master of the Kingdom. He is called Fabian and I suggest you steer clear of him."
"Is there a reason he hates me so much having just met me?" You regret the question even as you say it, it makes you seem weak, like a whining child. The Lady turns to you and raises an eyebrow.
"Your clothes and your manner of speech give you away. This is a school for nobles after all, you can't expect to be welcomed dressed like that. Nor can you expect to remain here if something so small touches your feelings so strongly."
You try to retort but anything you say now would make things worse. You hang your head. She's right and you can see you've lost her respect. A moment later a handsome young man runs up to her, beaming and taking a deep bow.
"Ah Lady Sarah, my Sarah, you are like the sea breeze on the face of the waters. I thank whatever paths may be in this world that mine crosses so readily with yours and--who's this?" He looks at you.
She waves her hand. "New recruit."
The young man wears a look of astonishment suggesting you had just grown tentacles from your ears. "This?" He asks, gesturing to you.
The lady nods and continues walking. The young man follows. "Where did he come from? Who sent him? Who is he?"
"Why not ask the young man himself Bastion?"
"Ah but I like your voice the most." He says, sing-song. Sarah rolls her eyes.
"You never quit do you? Your brother must be proud." She says.
She has cut him. His smile becomes rigid and hard. His eyes and his attention now turn to you, having failed on the first front.
"What's your story peasant?" He asks.

>>1993876
My patron believes that for our land to grow strong and be kept like a well tended garden it will need competent gardeners to nurture it and prune it of the excess that might lead to its ruin. In less flowery terms, I managed to defeat the Orlans with a paltry force of a single village against the auxiliaries of the raiding barbarians after they did us dishonor.

>>1993876
"I make people kill raiders good"

>>1993876
>"I make people kill raiders good"
this.

>>1993876
"I helped my village defend against some raiders. I guess Sir Sarkon thought that was worth recommending me here."

I don't think flowery speech really fits our character?

>>1993888
>>1993904
>>1993906
>>1993918
I'll combine these into something appropriate. Writin'

>>1993876

"I'm from Rosnia, I was sent here by a Noble Master. My name is Max."
"I thought your name was Sean." Mutters Sarah.
"It is, but I've always gone by Max. Sean is also my brother's name." You add.
Bastion scratches his beardless chin. "You must've had done something extraordinary to be sent here, you know, since you're a peasant."
You hesitate to explain further, but it is still a ways to the dorms and the young noble is waiting expectantly. You sigh.
"So my patron believes. Though all I did was defend my village from raiders. Orlans, in the south."
Sarah stops in her tracks. "Wait, you've commanded already? You've seen battle?" Her eyes have a wild and fierce edge to them now. A fire unbidden and uncontrolled. Bastion too, is suddenly intrigued.
"W-well. Just the village men and few of the women."
"Still. You've seen it? Felt it? Real battle?" Asks Sarah, touching your arm.
"Yes. Well we tried to avoid fighting at first, but of course the Orlans wouldn't listen to reason. We won through some simple but elegant traps and deceits--if I do say so myself. But things could have gone better."
Bastion is staring at the delicate hand the lady has put on your shoulder, Sarah finally notices and instantly shoots back. "Yes. Well. Wery good. That would explain it I suppose." She says, turning and continuing onward.
"I guess we have to watch out for this one eh?" Says Bastion, grinning and elbowing you in the arm. "Right Sarah?"
"What?" She snaps. "Oh yes, probably."
Bastion wraps his arm playfully around your neck. "And who knows, maybe one day you'll get to command in the flag battles, like us." He says.
You arrive at the gates of the dorms. It's a flat rectangular building of cement and brick, more modern in design than the other buildings. A set of stone steps leads inward.
"I'll let Bastion show you inside, shall I?"
"Ah, but Sarah, I wanted to walk with you in the garden. Make the roses jealous." Says Bastion, grinning, teasing, still with his arm around your neck.
Sarah says nothing, merely waves and turns and walks away. The instant her back is turned, Bastion starts to choke you, showing surprising strength.
"She's mine. You got that peasant boy? Don't get any bright ideas." He says. You can't breathe. "I've waited too long and worked too hard to get upended by some slaw-jawed pig-fucker who's seen a little blood." You're passing out. He releases you and you gasp and sputter. He smacks your back and walks inside the building.
"Come Max. Let me show where you'll be staying." He says. You rub your throat, feeling rage building against your brain.

>Follow in silence, Sir Sarkon told you not to make trouble.
>"And if she likes me better than a silver spoon like you? What then?"

>>1993952
Don't be a pussy
"If you touch me like that again I will hurt you"

>>1993952
Just leave him be.
If the man cant control himself its better to just not deal with him at all until we can crack his face in.

And we arnt doing that as a no skills no trainning peon from the boonies. So suck it up, fuck off and plot revenge after we get trained up.

>>1993952
"If you touch me like that again I will hurt you"
"And if she likes me better than a silver spoon like you? What then?"

>Don't be a pussy
Words to live by.

>>1993952
>Follow in silence, Sir Sarkon told you not to make trouble.
Not the time to make enemies. And it's not like lashing out now will give us any more than momentary satisfaction anyway.

>>1993952
>>Follow in silence, Sir Sarkon told you not to make trouble.
We do our fighting on the battlefield.

>>1993952
>Follow in silence, Sir Sarkon told you not to make trouble.

File: YouAreIt.jpg (71 KB, 800x1136)

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>>1994002
>>1994020
>>1994042
>>1994085

>>1994086
And?
You pick your fights or you get your shit kicked in.

>>1994002
>>1994020
>>1994042
>>1994085

It seems there are snakes here under every bush and rock. Appearances can't be trusted. You promised Sir Sarkon you would stay out of trouble and that means holding your tongue and your fist. Despite every cell in your body urging otherwise.

The stairs lead into a great hall, with floors of polished marble. The walls depict a terrific battlefield. Soldiers in formation marching against other soldiers in formation, a horde of cavalry just about to crash into a side of panicked infantry, a battlemage standing top a hill, hurling fireballs into the field. Along the walls are two sets of stairs leading to an upper floor and balcony, but Bastion ignores these and keeps going. You follow.

The great hall narrows to a single hallway which soon forks into a crossroad. To the left and right are rooms--dormitories with students in them--but Bastion keeps going and you follow. The hallway then leads to another staircase, one leading down. A basement, lit by candles and torchlight. The smell of sweat is strong in this place. The smell of poverty.

"These are the servant's quarters." Explains Bastion, with a sneer. "I think you'll feel more at home here." He leads you to a small cramped room with three other people sleeping on bunks. All of them are dressed like you, albeit less clean. "And just try complaining to the headmaster, see where that gets you." He says, grinning and then he's gone.

One of the sleeping servants stirs and sits up on his bed. "You new?" He asks, rubbing his eyes. "Who's your master?" Says another, who you now see wasn't asleep at all but is actually reading a book--an uncommon sight.

>Leave immediately and demand to speak with the headmaster. You refuse to stay with the servants
>Remain and introduce yourself. Might as well make the best of it; this is hardly worse than your accommodations back home.

>>1994102
>Leave immediately and demand to speak with the headmaster. You refuse to stay with the servants

Should be interesting to see how this insult to our recommender will be handled.

>>1994102
>Remain and introduce yourself. Might as well make the best of it; this is hardly worse than your accommodations back home.
Doesn't seem too bad to hang out with the servants desu

>>1994102
>Leave immediately and demand to speak with the headmaster. You refuse to stay with the servants

>>1994102
>Remain and introduce yourself.
It's only polite, and getting along with the servants is always a good idea. Afterwards, we complain to the headmaster.

>>1994125
changing to
>>1994128

>>1994092
You know nothing

>>1994135
Supporting

>>1994128
this

I cannot wait for the day we can chokeslam Bastion. He may think he's pretty strong but he ain't never had the pleasure of meeting farm-lad strength. The patience needed to wait for that moment though will be hard to come by.

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>>1994208
>mfw we fuck up bastion

>>1994208
Look on the bright side, we know how shitty a real fight is, in our first matchs we are going to play dirty and fuck with the enemy general.

Writin' for politness

>>1994219
That is true. The battlefield isn't a place for honor after all. Just staying alive to see the next one until you're done and back home safe.

>>1994112
>>1994128
>>1994135
>>1994150
>>1994183

You run a hand through your hair. You've slept in worse, might as well make the best of it.
"I'm Max. I'm not a servant, I'm a student." The air freezes, then first servant starts laughing. Not polite, dinner conversation, laughter either, loud, pee-in-my-pants laughter.
"He's a student!" The peasant slips off his bed and walks up to you. You're taller than he is, but he's older by a few years, chin hairs have sprouted. "Well 'Noble Master' you want us to kiss your hands and rub your feet? Hmm? Maybe we should all bow down. Come on lads, come on, get up, we've got a real noble in our midst. A student!" He laughs again. The other servants groan and curse, trying to go back to sleep.
"Enough Stark." Says the servant with the book, but Stark just keeps laughing, now bowed over and wiping tears from his eyes. The one with the book slaps it shut and gets up. "Are you really a student--Max was it?"
"I am. I have proof." You pull out the scroll again, with the seal of Sir Sarkon. The servant leans forward, examining the scroll in the low light.
"Hmm, it's authentic." He says. Stark stops laughing.
"Horseshit." Stark says, pushing his head toward the scroll. "Horseshit." He mumbles, looking up at you.
"Nope, I recognize that seal. Noble Master Sarkon. Right?"
"That's right." You say, putting the scroll back in your bag, not with a little surprise at the servant's knowledge.
"Then why's he here? Dressed like that? Why's he here then, Lemon?"
"Stark, maybe if you pulled your head out of your ass once in a while to listen to something other than the sound of your own flatulence, you'd realize that the Max here has been the victim of our 'Noble' Masters ire. Like the rest of us." He slinks back to his bed and grabs his book.
"Well don't expect any fancy treatment from us." Says Stark, doing likewise. "Yer in the servants quarters, not some hoity-toity nobleman ball. And my head is not in my ass." He says, slapping the book from Lemon's hands. It lands at your feet. You pick it up and leaf through it. The words you cannot yet read, but the diagrams are clear enough. Pornographic enough. How does the girl even get in that position?
Lemon gets up and snatches the book from your hand, blushing. "I-it's not what you think. There's useful knowledge here." He says.
"I didn't say anything." You reply.
"You get the top bunk new guy." Says Stark, pointing above him. Lemon goes back to his bed and his book.
You climb to the bed, put your stuff down and take a few moments to breathe and collect your thoughts. If you're going to live here--survive is probably more appropriate--you'll need a plan and you'll need information.

>Question Lemon, he seems to know a thing or two--even if he might be a pervert
>Head outside to the grounds and explore, meet and greet some more people. They can't all be assholes.
>Take a nap, it's probably best to remain here until the new clothes arrive

>>1994304
>question lemon

>>1994304
>Question Lemon, he seems to know a thing or two--even if he might be a pervert
he can help us learn to read and write

>>1994304
>Head outside to the grounds and explore, meet and greet some more people. They can't all be assholes.

>>1994304
>>Question Lemon, he seems to know a thing or two--even if he might be a pervert

>>1994304
>>Question Lemon, he seems to know a thing or two--even if he might be a pervert

So far he has been the least dickish. And getting friends of the people making the food and cleaning up after your bullshit is always a nice thing.

>>1994304
>Question Lemon, he seems to know a thing or two--even if he might be a pervert
Not the intention, but let's roll with it.

>>1994311
>>1994328
this is a good idea, we could really need to get a boost if we only have 2 months until training starts and who knows when our tutor comes

>>1994311
>>1994328
>>1994336
>>1994338
>>1994357

Writin' for lemon-aid

This Lemon seems to know a thing or two about how things work around here. And he's also been the least antagonizing of the all people you've met so far (not counting Sarah). Let's start with him.

"Lemon."

He peeks up from his book at you. "What?"

"You mind if I ask you a few questions?

"If I said yes, would that matter?" You're not sure how to answer. "But no, I don't. Ask away."

"How do things work around here?"

He scoffs. "You came here without knowing anything huh? Typical. Well where should we start? There's the classes, the sims and of course, the flag battles. I also know a few things about the teachers and students here, gossip, hearsay, the kind an invisible servant like myself is sometimes privy to, and I might have some general advice too. I've been here (he counts on his fingers) 6 years now, I've seen it all--or most of it."

Pick two:

>Classes
>Flag-battles
>Sims
>Teachers and students
>Advice

>>1994405
>Sims
>Advice

>>1994405
>Flag-battles
>Sims
Let's face it! we're not going to listen to advice

>>1994405
>Teachers and students
>Advice

>>1994444
This, we basically already know how things work and what not to do, now we need to find out what our responsibilities are and how to win wargames.

>>1994444
>>1994500

Writin'

There's those "flag battles" again. Bastion mentioned them and so did Sarah when she was deriding Victor Fabian.

"What are these flag battles everyone keeps talking about?"

"Right to the point then. Flag battles are...well exactly what they sound like. You saw that courtyard in front of the dorms?"

You nod.

"It's enchanted. Much bigger than it looks, the space inside is folded or something--I don't know the specifics, but the flag battles are held in there."

"But what are they?"

"Games. Kind of. But they determine your ranking in the Academy and so the nobles--being nobles--take them way too seriously."

"So they're mock battles? Between students?"

"Something like that. There's a hierarchy." He holds up his hands making a ladder. "Students at the top, older students, they get to be commanders. Head of the whole team. Students below them are lieutenants. They take orders from the commanders and give orders to the rest. They act like it's serious business, but it's all a game since there's no actual danger."

"What do you mean? They don't use real weapons?"

"They do. But the magic of the courtyard means they'll never die. Some of the ones with some pull in the Academy don't even feel pain, I've heard." He shrugs. "Typical."

Battle without consequence, now you understand why Sarah and Bastion were so excited by news of your real battle. "How many to a team?"

"Will you two lovebirds shut the fuck up?" The servant above Lemon's bunk growls. "Trying to sleep here for path's sake."

"Shall we take this outside, Max? Don't want to disturb the princess in her slumber." He says, punching the underside of the top bunk.

"Lemon I swear to all the paths that be--"

Lemon runs out the door before the sentence can be finished. The servant growls and goes back to sleep. You follow Lemon up the stairs into the hallway. "To answer your question, there's 100 to a team. Not including the commander. But multiple teams compete per flag battle, generally 4 or 6 at a time. And teams are fairly consistent battle to battle, though trades happen often."

"How many teams in total?"

"20 teams in total." He points to a scoreboard in the main hall you had missed the first time. It shows one side the rankings of the teams, "Atuin's Arm" is in first place right now. Next to that it shows the rankings of the students. Sarah is first, and to your surprise, Bastion is behind her. The scoreboard constantly shifting by some arcane magic, showing different measures. Most kills in a battle. Most flag captures in a battle. Least casualties in a battle. Highest win/loss rate. Sarah leads in all categories and again, Bastion is a close second.

"What about the other thing you mentioned. The sims?"

Cont.

>>1994593
"Ah, well those are a little harder to explain."

He leads you outside and sits down on the stone steps. A few students sneer at you as they pass, pinching their noses and laughing. Lemon doesn't even seem to notice them. He points at a castle-like building in the distance.

"In there, that's the library." He says. "That's where the sim is. It's another magical construct; let's you simulate battles. The commanders use it to try out strategies before the official flag battles, but some of your exams will also take place there. The commander promotion exam also requires playing against an existing commander in the sim, and defeating him."

"I see. Can anyone use it?"

"If it's free, yeah. Most of the regular students are too busy with their classes and flag-battle drills anyway, so its usually only used by commanders. But technically anyone can challenge a commander. 'Course if you lose, you can't challenge anyone again for 6 months. Typical."

You're about to ask for more details, when you hear someone cry your name. "Sean Maximus Archer! That's you right?" An out-of-breath young servant runs up to you, her dress nearly the same as yours, her hair sand colored and her skin tanned. She grasps her knees and holds up a finger before you can speak. Once her breath is sufficiently caught she stands up and smiles at you, hands at her hips.

"You're Sean Maximums Archer right?"

"Uh. Yes. Just Max though."

"I'm Clarisse, your servant." She does a curtsy.

"Servant?" You glance at Lemon who just shrugs.

She mistakes your confusion for disappointment and her smile becomes a frown. "O-Of course, Noble Master, all the students get a personal servant. I am yours--am I not to your liking?" She looks like she's about to cry.

>Let her know you don't keep servants and to call you Max, just Max.
>It's about time you started getting some respect around here. Tell her she'll do just fine

>>1994651
>Let her know you don't keep servants and to call you Max, just Max.

Correct her too. Let her know that we aren't of noble birth.

>>1994651
Let her know you don't keep servants and to call you Max, just Max.
but she can be our assistant

>>1994651
>It's about time you started getting some respect around here. Tell her she'll do just fine
Well I wouldn't want to make her cry

>>1994660
Supporting this

>>1994656
This seems too arrogant

>>1994656
>>1994660
>>1994740

Writin'

It feels too strange to have a servant and you decide that you don't need one.

"You can just call me Max, Clarisse. I don't keep servants, but you can be....my assistant if you like."

Now she looks like she just swallowed a bee. "I don't understand." She clasps her hands together in a nervous gesture and looks at Lemon for help.

Lemons sighs. "It means you got lucky Clair. Noble Master here just wants to be friends. It means less work for you, more time daydreaming about making pretty dresses for the Ladies." He says.

"Pretty dresses for the ladies?"

She blushes to her toes. "Noble Master--"

"Max." You correct.

"O-oh, um, Max. I have this for you. From Sir Sarkon." She hands a you package wrapped in brown paper. Your new clothes. Finally. The girl waits and watches you nervously.

"S-shall I help you dress, Nob--Max?"

Now it's your turn to blush. "Go on, Max, let her dress you. She'll be very gentle" Says Lemon, smiling like a goblin kidnapping a newborn. Clair, seemingly unaware of the situation or innuendo, nods her head eagerly.

"Very gentle." She says. "Promise."

Lemon starts to laugh and Clair just looks confused.

"I can dress myself Clair. Thank you." You say.

"O-oh. OK, well if you need anything, please let me know Mast--Max." She steps up to you and hands you a circular glass orb. You raise it to the sunlight. Inside a shard of metal reflects back to you your own face.

"It's a scrying ball Nobl--Max." She stamps her foot and squeezes her eyes shut. "Stupid, stupid." She says, hitting herself in the head. "You can use it to call me. Just speak my name and hold it up to any light."

"Right." You say, pocketing the ball.

"Is there anything else I can do for you?" She asks, standing on tip-toe.

You shake your head and she starts to leave uncertainly. She whips back, remembering something. "Shall I bring the dinner meal to your room? Or will you dine in the mess hall with the other students?"

She doesn't seem to understand the difference between an assistant and a servant, but it doesn't look like you'll be getting through to her today.

>Eat in your room
>You'll eat in the mess hall, once you change

>>1994826
>You'll eat in the mess hall, once you change

>>1994826
>>You'll eat in the mess hall, once you change

Being a good ol' boy from the sticks is suffering.

>>1994826
>You'll eat in the mess hall, once you change
Hopefully we can find a group to take refuge with/ make freinds with. Being alone isnt going to work out in the end.

>>1994842
>>1994885
>>1994932

Writin' to eat in the mess hall. Speaking of which I'm going to break a bit to break some bread myself.

How is everyone liking the quest so far? Anything you guys want to see in this quest in particular? Any questions?

>>1994946
I really like the quest, just keep doing what you're doing and it'll be great

>>1994946
I'm liking it so far, the one gripe that I have is that I feel like you're following a generic trope too much, which makes things predictable. Other than that, the quest is great.

>>1995146
Which trope?

File: img-thing.jpg (15 KB, 300x300)

15 KB JPG

Once you're in formal attire perhaps you'll be able to blend in better. It's better than eating alone and you'll need to make some friends--or at least scope out your enemies. Breaking bread is a good way to do that, for peasant and noble alike.

"I'll take my meal in the mess hall, Clair. You're free to join me if you like."

"No she isn't." Says Lemon, getting up. "Servants eat in their quarters."

"I-I can escort you if you like, Max." Says Clair.

"But you won't be able to eat with me?"

She shakes her head. "But I can always eat after." She offers.

You sigh. You should've expected this, but still it feels unfair, like everything else regarding nobility and common folk. How is it that the your lineage or your blood can determine who eats with you and who doesn't? Ridiculous.

"No. I'll be fine."

"OK. May all your paths lead to home. And you too, Lemon." She curtsies again and departs.

Lemon pats your chest as he passes you, moving back inside the dorms. You follow. "So what's her deal?" You ask him.

"Who?"

"Clair. She seems a little too eager to please."

"Why don't you ask her next time?" Says Lemon. "Everyone has their reasons."

"And you know hers?"

"And I'm a fan of privacy." He says. "Ask her yourself."

You make a mental note to do exactly that.

Back in the servants quarters you take your time undressing and putting on the new clothing. It fits you perfectly though it feels a little stiff. Stark never stops running his mouth, calling you a silver spoon, a blue-blood, a slicker, a fancyboy. Yet he's the first to assist you in buttoning up and making sure the clothes are properly. He even shows you how to walk and sit properly so the clothes last longer and don't wrinkle as fast. You learn that he's from the northern part of the kingdom, past the Skow mountains in the desert lands. When you question his fair skin, he tells you that he has Tuli blood in him, the steppe riders further north that have since vanished or assimilated into the Kingdom.

And in the end you are trading stories of your home and laughing and the terms of derision become just jabs between good friends.

>+Rep with Servants

Then it's dinner time, a bell tolls somewhere above signalling it and you rise and head for the mess hall on Stark's detailed instructions. It is not far from the dorms and there are a few students heading there anyway, and you follow them.

The dining hall is even larger than the main hall in the dorms. Small round tables, 5 wooden stools to each, are bolted to the ground by steel and iron. Students have already taken their seats, settled into their individual groups, and you note that while there is an open buffet, no one gets their own food. The servants take their master's order and serve it to them.

>>1995458

You scan the room and spot Sarah sitting in a table all by herself, eating and reading a book. You also see a group of students giving you the stink eye the moment you walk in, Victor Fabian, is among them and seems to be their leader.

The rest of the students are ignoring you. You've successfully blended in with your new clothes, for now. The students sit with their own teams but its difficult to tell which team is which. The hall is mostly empty too, most of the stools and tables bereft of students.

Where should you sit?

>Sit by yourself
>Greet Victor Fabian, try to change his impression of you (roll 1d20)
>Sit with Sarah (roll 1d20)
>Join the most crowded table and introduce yourself (roll 1d20)
>Join anyone else sitting alone other than Sarah (roll 1d20)

Rolled 1 (1d20)

>>1995476
>Join anyone else sitting alone other than Sarah (roll 1d20)
It's purely on a meta level, but I'd like to bring a fresh face into the cast.

>>1995493
kek. All these crit fails.

Rolled 5 (1d20)

>>1995476
>>Join anyone else sitting alone other than Sarah (roll 1d20)
I'll save us!

>>1995493

You consider sitting with Sarah, but you remember Bastion's warning--threat is more like it--and decide it's not worth it. Instead you look for someone else sitting alone. A young man with hair going down to his ears, sits by himself in the far left corner of the room. His servant, a tall, buxom young lady clad in black stands behind him.

You grab a tray and some food (causing some consternation among the servants and snickering among the nobles) and then head for the table with the boy.

"Hi! I'm Max. I'm a new student." You sit down and then offer your hand.

The boy tilts his head toward you in an odd gesture. Then you catch a glimpse of his eyes, they have a white film over them. He's blind, you realize.

"Fuck off." He says.

"Apologizes sir." Says the pretty servant. "The Noble Master Artur wishes to be left alone today."

"How many times have I told you not speak for me, Nina?" The boy snaps. "How many times?"

"I'm terribly sorry master it won't happen again." Nina says.

Victor Fabian walks over to your table, puts his foot on a stool and glares at you.

"This is perfect. The peasant and the half-blood. You two belong together." Says Victor. You get up to leave. Things are going south quite rapidly.

"Oh a lover's spat!" Says Victor. "Maybe the half-born was too disfigured even for peasant tastes." The students behind him laugh. Then you hear a wet squish and Victor has mashed potatoes dribbling down his cheek. The entire hall is quiet now. Artur, the blind boy, is holding the offending spoon.

Victor wipes himself off, walks over to Artur and smacks him, hard, in the face. The sound echoes through the quiet hall. You look over to Sarah, but and she glances over at the situation but then quietly returns to her dinner and her book.

"Master Victor, please forgive master Art--"

Artur smacks the table and instantly Nina stops talking.

"What are you going to do half-blood bitch?" Says Victor. "You think you're done paying for the insult you've just given me?" He grabs his short hair. "You're a distant cousin, a no-name, and a half-blood to boot. There is no here for you. Just leave."

>Get involved
>Quietly slink away

>>1995597
>Get involved
There's no need to cause a scene; you'll put everyone off their food. Or entertain them, but I'm sure you wouldn't degrade yourself by making yourself their entertainment.

>>1995634
This, diplomat the shit out of these nobles.

>>1995597
>>Get involved

>>1995634
>>1995664
>>1995665

Roll 1d20 for diplomacy please

Rolled 5 (1d20)

>>1995678

Rolled 8 (1d20)

>>1995678
Let's go

Rolled 6 (1d20)

>>1995678
Did somebody say "Roll a nat 1 for diplomacy please"?

>>1995687
>>1995689
>>1995692
Will Max ever catch a break?

Rolled 19 (1d20)

>>1995740
Max is terrible at talking to uppity fuckwits. But apparently he's great at spilling the blood of assholes who fuck with his village. Maybe violence truly is the answer for him?

Rolled 12 (1d20)

>>1995740
He will now

>>1995689

>10 = 8 + 2 [Social, Conscientious]
>Success!

"There's no need to cause a scene." You say and instantly two dozen heads whip in your direction. "You'll ruin everyone's appetite, Victor. And as much as I enjoy dinner time entertainment, I'm not sure that--you being a noble and all--that you should be the one providing it." You say. The students behind him exchange looks, a few of them giggle.

Victor squints his eyes at you, considering your words and then releases Artur. "It's not worth my time. I'll have you, the both of you, in the flag battles." And with that he leaves, but not before spitting in Artur's food. For a noble, that was undignified.

The boy's servant is at her master's side in an instant, checking his cheek for bruises and fixing his hair. The boy doesn't resist, seething in silent anger. You try and look for another table to sit at but the boy calls you.

"What did you say your name was?"

"Max."

"I'm Artur." He offers his hand, sadly a few inches off. Not wanting to offend you reach over and shake it without a word of complaint. Then he looks down at his soiled pudding.

"Do you want some of mine?" You ask.

He says nothing at first, then nods. His servant snatches the bowl from your tray and puts it under her master's spoon. He eats with relish and you join him.

"Sorry about before." Artur says. "It's just...no one sits with me unless they want to make fun, or stare. I can always tell when they're staring."

You consciously look away from his eyes.

"You said you were new?"

"Yes. Sir Sarkon sent me."

"One of the closer relatives." Says Artur, with distaste. "Why did four-eyes call you a peasant?"

"Because I am one. Technically." You take a deep breath. "I'm the son of a pig-farmer from Rosnia."

There is a long pause. Artur scratches his head. "Cool." He finally says.

"How about you?"

He frowns. "Well you heard: Half-blood. My father was--is, the Master of Jatartar in the west. Only a distant cousin though, and you see how much weight that holds here. My mother was the daughter of the local tavernmaster. They met when my father was on campaign and stopped at our village."

"I see." He's more forthcoming than you expected. You're not sure whether you like that, but you give him the benefit of the doubt for now.

"And I'm sure your wondering about my eyes." He sighs.

"It crossed my mind, once or twice."

"No one knows what it is. The headmaster even looked at it, tried his spells. It didn't work. But I have decent hearing and a pretty good memory. I make do. What's your story?"

"Killed some raiders attacking my village."

"Cool. So you wanna head to the sims after this? I never have anyone to play against." He sounds eager now, competitive. But it's getting late, the other students are filing out of the hall and you should probably get a good night's sleep for tomorrow, when the tutor comes.

>Decline and head home
>Head to the library with Artur

>>1995808
>Go to Library with Autur
Learn about the sims a bit and try to get some practice before tomorrow. We could also compare our battle experience to it and see if it's actually a good way to train generals.

>>1995808
>>Head to the library with Artur
Learning experience.

>>1995808
Are write-ins allowed on this one? If so,
>Decline to actually do a sim - it's getting late, and he'd have to walk you through the whole process, since you're that new - but you wouldn't mind sticking around to chat a bit longer with him.

Otherwise,
>Decline and head home
as inoffensively as possible.

>>1995843
Write-ins are allowed in all votes, unless stated otherwise.

>>1995827
>>1995832
>>1995843
Writin' last post for today.

>>1995855
How often will you be posting?

The chance to check out the sim is far too tantalizing to pass up. Sleep can wait. Besides you're used to waking up early.

"Lead the way." You say. Artur smiles and gets to his feet.

The library is much larger on the inside than it appears on the outside. "It's magic." Artur explains, holding his servant's hand as she guides him through the rows of shelves. "Similar to the magic of the courtyard and the sims. The headmaster, Archmage Dulcar is a master illusionist and spatial manipulator. He's the one that handles all this stuff and is the reason why the Karkain Military Institute remains one of the top institutes in the world."

You follow Artur in silence, awestruck by the sight of so many books and tomes. Eventually you come to a series of large private rooms, pitifully illuminated by candlelight, leaving the rest of the chamber dark.
"Here we are." Says Artur, glee playing in his voice. "I've never actually played against another person before. Hopefully you can provide a better challenge than the built-in scenarios. They always play out the same way."

You're not sure where this simulator is, all you see is an empty dark room.
"Sim, free mode please." Says Artur, running to the other side of the room. The door snaps shut and locks and a wall comes down form the ceiling partitioning you from Artur. The walls and floor of the room begin to glow white revealing a grid on the floor.

"Can you hear me, Max?" Artur's voice echoes from above, as though coming from a great distance.
"Um, yes?" Silence.
"Max, you have to say tell the simulator you want to speak to me. Otherwise I can't hear you."
"Oh. Simulator, tell uh Artur that I understand."
"OK, I heard you that time. Good. Ready?"
"Not really."
"Relax this isn't a promotion test or anything, just a friendly match. If you're confused about anything just ask. Otherwise you give commands to your soldiers like you would on the battlefield. Here we go."
The room goes for black for a second then the lights come back on, but only a portion of the floor. You see small hills and a little forest and at your feet are tiny spear-toting soldiers, little men on horses, even a miniature warmage. You crouch down to view the soldiers more closely, they are detailed down to the tassels in their helmets. Astonishing.
"I decided we'd do a simple flag-sim for starters." Says Artur. "This was the scenario Sarah played a year ago to ascend to commander rank. The objective is to capture and hold 3 flags out of the 5. Namely the hills in front of the river. Or destroy the opposing army. Or you can also just capture the enemy commander, but that almost never happens."

Cont.

You walk around the room, surveying the terrain. As Artur mentioned a river cuts through the center of the floor and there are 5 hills, 2 on your side, 2 on Artur's and the last hill, a rocky cliff overlooking the river, on the western flank, on Artur's side. A dense forest extends from your camp through the river to Artur's side, creating a screen between the hills on the border of the river and the hill to the west.

It seems you have your work cut out for you. All Artur has to do is hold the hills on his side of the map--you'll have to play offensively if you want to win. You go back to your camp and check out your soldiers. The soldiers have filed into ranks now. You have three units of regular infantry, two of them toting long spears, the third wielding swords.

You also have some lightly armored cavalry wielding throwing spears and a unit of--what appears to be horse archers. Finally there's the commander, protected by a few horsemen and a battlemage, standing well behind the front-lines.

What should you do first?

>Ask the simulator about each of the units, their strengths and weaknesses
>Take it nice and slow. Have your cavalry scout ahead and your infantry follow behind, cautiously
>Time is of the essence, Artur is probably positioning his units even now; rush your units to the two hills on your side of the river

>>1995872
I'll be running tomorrow morning as well around 10 AM PDT to 4 PM PDT. After that is tentative but likely on the weekends only

>>1996018
>Ask about units
While
>Time is of the essence
He's going to be setting up, because he learned that in class. Probably. Or he's unconventional and is going to go balls to the wall

>>1996018
>>Ask the simulator about each of the units, their strengths and weaknesses
>>Take it nice and slow. Have your cavalry scout ahead and your infantry follow behind, cautiously

He's already closer to the hills, if he really wants to take them he'll get there before we do. Better to encircle him.

has hiroshimoot fixed the fucked up dice shit yet?

>>1996217
Supporting, its important to preserve moral as well. Theres not much to gain by brazenly coming at an unknown opponent.

>>1996018
>Take it nice and slow. Have your cavalry scout Ahead and your infantry follow behind, cautiously
let's take in the information first, we should have visual confirmation of what his force is doing.
Moving the commander as bait and fire support with the mage seems pretty risky but worth it too.

>>1996057
Supporting

>>1996018
>Ask the simulator about each of the units, their strengths and weaknesses

>>1996018
>Take it nice and slow. Have your cavalry scout ahead and your infantry follow behind, cautiously
>Time is of the essence, Artur is probably positioning his units even now; rush your units to the two hills on your side of the river

Are we allowed to shift around the equipment on our units? For instance, giving spare long spears from our infantry to our horsemen for when we want to enact a cavalry charge?

I feel like, given our prior experience with combat, we're likely to resort more to misdirection and subterfuge rather than drawn-out attrition; our disposition makes us likely to want to preserve the lives of as many of our soldiers as possible, even if it is just a simulation. (Also, we need to be up early tomorrow.)

So something like feigning a protracted infantry advance, supported by (half of) our mounted archers and spear-throwers (employing piecemeal hit-and-run tactics so Artur can't effectively judge their numbers); while the other half of our horsemen are equipped with spears and taking a stealthy (and probably circuitous) route to launch an all-or-nothing charge on Artur's commander; which in itself is a feint for our battlemage (also mounted and approaching from the opposite direction) to blow them everyone fuck up the moment they're distracted by the cavalry charge; might not be entirely the sort of thing our character would do, but something somewhere along those lines might be.

>>1995146
Not his fault, anons are picking the predicable direction.

The low born outsider hothead who doesn't let his new status impact his beliefs or principles. Yawn.

>>1997567
The simulator is extremely advanced, so yes, you can do anything that you might conceivably be able to do in the real world.

>>1997607
Ah that trope. I'll see what I can do to keep things interesting.

>>1997607
>literally the first day out of his shitty village and gets shoved into semi-status and sorta not poverty

>expecting a character that wouldn't come from such a place

Dude hasn't even had time for it to set in that he might actually be important in the future and not just a turnip farmer or something. And MC is hardly a hothead, so far he's been pretty calm actually and only really gets upset when he has actual reason to, like someone strangling him to try to prove a point. It's not like someone called him a peasant and he flipped out and shouted about his family being great people.

Come on, man. You gotta give it some time.

>>1997567
>>1997550
>>1997540
>>1997539
>>1996614
>>1996217
>>1996057

The consensus seems to be to ask about the units first. Writin'

File: Sim_Map.png (41 KB, 748x594)

41 KB PNG

This battlefield a far cry from the village. There you knew every man and woman, you knew that Gargery had bad knees and couldn't sprint and that Stolos was built like an ox and could take a blow without complaint and that Mariam was the bravest person you've ever known but that her husband was a complete coward. The soldiers in the simulation are abstractions, unfamiliar and alien. And without knowing their strengths and weaknesses, you have no chance at victory.

Therefore, before moving your troops you decide to ask the simulator for details. The simulator readily complies. You learn that the infantry armed with swords are heavy infantry--experienced veterans--while the spearmen, are merely conscripts, greenhorns. Your cavalry units are mercenaries according to the simulator and as such are highly skilled, but their horses are fast instead of hardy and are not good for charging. Your horse archers are Tuli Nomads, a real prize, they can hit a man at 500 paces on a galloping horse and can even shoot while riding backwards, but they are used to flat, clear terrain.

The battlemage is only an acolyte of the illusion school and knows only three spells, and can cast only 2 in the battle. One spell creates large-scale illusions on the battlefield, but is easily seen-through if the enemy comes close, another charms the enemy soldiers causing them to fight for you briefly, and the third puts men into a berserk rage. The spells while useful, are not very reliable. The simulator tells you that the acolyte has a 50% chance for spell failure. And that spell failure can have adverse consequences.

Finally, the commander unit will bolster the morale of nearby units, but the game is lost if he is slain.

"What's going on Max? I don't see any of your troops on the hill." Says Artur. "You know how to give orders to your troops right? Just tell the simulator."

"I'm fine." You say. You're not sure how Artur is even playing the game given that he's blind, but that question will have to wait. You know your troops and Artur is likely already situated on the hills across the river. Now is the time for action.

>write-in

Rather than try to give choices, we'll just go by write-ins for the battle portions

>>1998023
Establish clear hierarchy between commanders in units so if one is slain a new one could immediately take its place

suggestions: mercenaries aren't reliable,station them at hill tops and use them to crush enemies that are small in number and are downhill to use the descending to their advantage
use horse archers as guerrilla strikes and try to separate enemy units and draw them in where conscripts, preferably hiding in the forest can crush them and gain morale
station the veterans as defense on hill tops
the acolyte cast illusion mist to separate their main force from the attacking unit and/or draw the enemies below the mercenaries
the commander should either be protected by veterans or be helping the conscript with the ambush

>>1998023
What happens if we try to go beyond the boundary of the map? If we can't, the far right hill becomes far harder to assault.

>One spell creates large-scale illusions on the battlefield, but is easily seen-through if the enemy comes close
Roughly how large, and how persistent are these illusions? And how close would an enemy actually have to be count as 'close'?

>Your horse archers are Tuli Nomads, a real prize, they can hit a man at 500 paces on a galloping horse and can even shoot while riding backwards, but they are used to flat, clear terrain.
Is this a trait of the archers or the horses? What happens if we swap the horses of our two cavalry units?

>The battlemage is only an acolyte of the illusion school and knows only three spells
Does he know how to ride a horse or wear armor?

For that matter, do we have any spare horses, weapons or armor (like a standard army unit would have in case of weapon breakage and so forth)?

File: battleplan.png (62 KB, 748x594)

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>>1998023
Well we need to control 3 flags, so we need to cross that river. If we were to take the two hills on our side the enemy would have a clear view of our units and could defend with an advantage from the other side of the river. My plan is to move our whole army on the other side (red arrow), while the illusionist creates an illusion of an army crossing the river east (blue arrow). Hopefully this would cause Artur to split his army and we would have a good chance of winning.

>>1998124
>What happens if we try to go beyond the boundary of the map? If we can't, the far right hill becomes far harder to assault.

Going out of the map is possible, the map will just zoom out or fragment in that case.

>Roughly how large, and how persistent are these illusions? And how close would an enemy actually have to be count as 'close'?

About the size of one unit of troops. And the illusions become obvious 50 paces away

>Is this a trait of the archers or the horses? What happens if we swap the horses of our two cavalry units?

Both. The Nomads trained with their horses so they are most comfortable with them. Swapping would likely disadvantage both units

>Does he know how to ride a horse or wear armor?

He can't wear armor, but he is riding a horse

>For that matter, do we have any spare horses, weapons or armor (like a standard army unit would have in case of weapon breakage and so forth)?

This particular sim battle doesn't focus on logistics (others can and will and certainly the flag battles do), you can assume everyone is well supplied.

>>1998135
The 3rd flag up the river is his, there's no way we can scale that fast less we use some smart tactics.
I'd say charge front, or collaspe the rocky cliff into the river and pull some Cao Cao tier Master plan.

>>1998136
Actually wait, no the map does not extend (because then there would be inconsistency in the map between players).

>>1998023
The infantry and mercenaries deploy on the left and advance through the guise of the forest. Command and spearmen climb the big hill. One spear unit stays outside of line of sight to be deployed as needed. Nomad harass from across the river and watch out for flanking force from the right.
If there is one, our conjurer turns the loyality of the troops while they are crossing the river, and while they are fighting each other our nomads pelt them with arrows. This is when our left flank advances across the river.
If there is none and our left flank is in position to cross. Create an illusion on the right side of an army crossing or mist to pretend an army is crossing. This is when our left flank crosses the river.

After they cross and engage enemy in combat the rest of our troops cross and engage the enemy.

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>>1998150
forgot pic.

>>1998150
i will back this

>>1998150
This is a good plan but all it would accomplish is make our enemy realize urgency in the Right to take the Rocky cliff, which would lose us the flag.
We actually need to contest it.
Whilst feinting could actually work and pretending to go for Right which is the schwerpunkt of the whole battle and feinting it to actually do a whole flank would only result in success if we can:
1-Hold our flank right flank where we decided we'd use the illusion
2-Capture his Left Hill faster than he can take the Rocky cliff uncontested (VERY HARD)
3-Manage to uproot the Spears that are probably contesting his hill, whoses biggest weakness is likely horse archers.
I'll support this because it's an interesting feint and strategy and if our opponent is skilled but not enough to predict and adapt unconventinal moves it could be devastating.
The more classic solution would be to actually contest the right forest.
Also we're not even sure what the enemy forces actually are.

So yeah
>Supporting

>>1998150
Supporting.

>>1998150
Consensus reached! Writin'

>>1998173
It doesn't matter if he holds the eastern flag, we only need 3 flags to win

>>1998150
I'll support this

>>1998150
Sure, this seems fine.

That said, I have the indelible urge to save one of our illusionist's spell slots for a berserk rage on whichever squad of troops we spot Artur's commander in, as a last resort.

File: Plan+2turns.png (73 KB, 748x594)

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>>1998186
Suppose so in a way, still can't predict everything and the least flag they have the better.
Otherwise if we capture the left hill on the other side and somehow lack a flag or need to push further for some reason to contest, we can cross the river with spears using the left hill captured and the middle forest, The forest would provide cover from cavalry and we'd be able to contest crossing afterward.

Your plan is in three parts:

1. Capture the large hill on your side of the river
2. Sneak the heavy infantry across the river through the eastern forest
3. Harass and scout the enemy hills with your nomads

The first is simple enough, you move your spearmen and command to the hill, stopping the second unit of spearmen at mid-level, hiding them from enemy sight. As your units ascend the hill, more of the map becomes revealed, you can now see some of Artur's troops on the other side, their banners waving atop the hills.

The first thing you notice is the unit of spear infantry emerging from the forest in the valley between the two hills. They are wading into the river and trying to cross through the center. Likely, Artur thought you were going to be too slow to the punch and could simply take the center hill.

But your nomads, skirting through the forest now pop out and fire a volley of arrows. A quarter of their forces are obliterated in an instant, the pincushioned bodies floating down the river to the east and the rest panicking and retreating. The nomads fire another volley at the backs of the enemy as they disappear back into the forest. You expect to see them emerge out the other side, but it seems the forest has provided enough cover to renew their courage.

Another oddity, you don't see any cavalry among Artur's forces. Archers on the western hill, and his general on the east and two additional units of spearmen (one defending each hill) but these are heavily armored and look formidable. The battlemage is near the command as well. If there is any kind of equivalence in units in the sim, then those should be all of his troops. Does he have no cavalry? If so his mobility is severely restricted and these are all his forces than the western cliff is undefended. Did he intend to go for the center hills in a decisive showdown?

The archers are attempting to fire on your cavalry, but it is a simply matter for them to retreat out of range. The Nomads, skilled as they are, cannot fire at the units uphill. Artur's spearmen remain entrenched on the hills and the third spearmen unit, now runs behind the hill heading east.

Your battlemage is in position to cast the illusion of forces moving across the east, the heavy infantry are waiting to cross on the west.

>Give the order for both, continue with the original plan (roll 1d20)
>Write-in

Rolled 11 (1d20)

>>1998246
>Give the order for both, continue with the original plan (roll 1d20)

Rolled 17 (1d20)

>>1998246
>>Give the order for both, continue with the original plan

>>1998246
Ya know what I just thought of something. Can the illusions from the mage make units effectively invisible? Because then he might be hiding his cavalry.

>>1998269
If he has an illusionist mage and that mage knows that spell. Yes. It's possible.

>>1998269
>>1998246
And if his hiding his cavalry on the left flank, our forces might be obliterated when they cross the river.

Are rolls best of 3 here?

Rolled 13, 1 = 14 (2d20)

>>1998246
>Give the order for both, continue with the original plan (roll 1d20)
But also cast a second illusion to hide our left flank while crossing the river.

Lets hope that works. Also rolling 2 dice in case OP wants dice per spell.

>>1998278
Hastverk er lastverk

>>1998266

Writin'

>>1998278
You unfortunately don't have an invisibility spell.

You order the battlemage to cast his illusions and a moment later you have a perfect copy of your heavy infantry moving squarely down the river. You wait for Artur to see them, to react, to fall for the bait...

He does! He begins moving the archers on the western hill eastward, to hit your mirage. Meanwhile you order the real heavy infantry to sneak across the river to the other side to his left flank.

The battlemage keeps up his illusion, even showing the men dying from the volley of enemy arrows. Here Artur gets overeager and orders his spearmen on the eastern hill to charge directly into your illusion. Your heavy infantry are now positioned across the river, in front of the left hill.

As Artur's heavy spearmen approach the illusion, it fades into mist and water. Your nomads and cavalry are on the scene already, pelting the spearmen in the river with bow and spear, killing many. Some of your troops are killed as well, by the archers on the hill, but this is, you tell yourself, is a necessary sacrifice.

With the enemy troops trapped between river and hill, now could be the time for a decisive blow.

>Charge down the hill with your spearmen at the river, chasing and destroying the remaining eastern forces
>Let the enemy retreat, focus on the left flank instead, have the heavy infantry charge the western hill
>Write-in

>>1998315
>Let the enemy retreat, focus on the left flank instead, have the heavy infantry charge the western hill

>>1998315
>>Charge down the hill with your spearmen at the river, chasing and destroying the remaining eastern forces

>>1998315
>Let the enemy retreat, focus on the left flank instead, have the heavy infantry charge the western hill

>>1998315
>Charge down the hill with your spearmen at the river, chasing and destroying the remaining eastern forces
>Let the heavy infantry charge the western hill.
>Your cavalry crosses the river and assists the heavy infantry.

>>1998315
>Let the enemy retreat, focus on the left flank instead, have the heavy infantry charge the western hill

>>1998332
>>1998334
>>1998342

Letting the enemy retreat and focus on the left flank; writin'

You shift attention away from the center to the left flank. Your heavy infantry are waiting at the bottom of the left hill and Artur's heavy spearmen are waiting at the top. You order the charge, kneeling down toward the floor to see the little men run up the hill and the men above them brace their shields and spears.

The impact is explosive. The gore horrific, even for a simulation. Several of the swordsman are impaled immediately by the long spears, heads and torsos punctured through and through. Yet, even fighting uphill, the swordsman push the spearmen back. They are not veterans for nothing.

The spearmen at the river now wheel and turn to support their brethren in the west, fleeing the arrows and spears at their backs. The move into the forest of the valley, taking cover as the spearment did before them. If they successfully join the battle on the hill, your swordsman will surely perish.

Meanwhile, you spot the first group of spearmen coming out of the eastern forest and going for the cliff. If Artur captures that and holds it, that will be one less flag in your favor and another in his.

You survey your troops. Your spearmen conscripts are still fresh and the cavalry and horse archers, while slightly battered, still strong. The battlemage has but one spell left, which you must use wisely.

What should you do?

>Write-in

>>1998429
Battle frenzy the heavy infantry.
Your cavalry and horse archers deal with the spearmen on the eastern flank.
Meanwhile your conscripts cross the river and flank the spearman engaging your heavy infantry.

>>1998445
Also, totally predicted we should have chased down those spearmen.

>>1998429
Do we see the enemy commander anywhere?

>>1998448
He's still on the eastern hill, sitting pretty with his battlemage and the archers

Wait what spells does the enemy have?

>>1998462
Good question. You don't know. But you'll soon find out.

>>1998429
>>1998445
This but instead of frenzy, charm the enemy archers, hopefully they'll take down the commander or at least the battle mage

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>>1998465
Caling it he's gonna crumble the cliff onto the river and sink us.
>>1998475
Supporting

>>1998445
Changing to this.>>1998475
Makes sense. Then they can't shoot our spearmen. Also we don't know what the mage can do so planning for it is just fruitless.

>>1998475
>>1998479
>>1998493

Roll 1d20 please

Rolled 3 (1d20)

>>1998500

Rolled 7 (1d20)

>>1998500

Rolled 16 (1d20)

>>1998500

Rolled 3 (1d20)

>>1998500

This is some good shit, OP. Really interesting concept.

Rolled 8 (1d20)

>>1998500

>>1998479
That would be too simple. We're going to fight a long and bloody battle of attrition, barely edging out an advantage through superior tactics - and just as we're on the cusp of victory, the last words we hear from his cornered battlemage before our crushing defeat will be "Mass Animate Dead".

>>1998505
Nice save. Writin'

This is it. The climactic moment, if you fail here the battle is lost.

You order the cavalry and the horse archers to chase the fleeing spearmen across the river. You must thin those spearmen as much as possible before they join the battle on the left hill.

But this will not be enough. You need more troops there and so, you send your reserve spearmen conscripts to flank the western hill. Your commander now stands alone, but everything depends on that hill, it's capture will force a retreat. His numbers are low now and those that are still alive are winded. You can win this!

Exhilaration! Thrill! This is so different from the battle you waged against the raiders. No risk here. No one to die if you make a mistake. If this is what amounts to your responsibilities, to play games like these, you are more than happy to oblige.

The conscript spearmen cross the waters without trouble. The cavalry too are now across but are hit by arrows. You decide to use the mage's last spell to charm the archers, in an attempt to try and kill the commander. If it works you'll have won the game instantly, if it doesn't it will distract the archers long enough for your units to bear.

The illusionist weaves his spell. You can see some of the archers stop firing and now pull out their knives and take to slitting the throat of their comrades. A few of them break off go for the commander and he rushes down the hill fleeing his own troops, his battlemage behind them. They head into the western forest, perhaps heading toward the cliff, where the unit of spearmen have uselessly taken position.

The conscripts are midway up the hill. The heavy infantry are tiring and are being pushed back but as the conscripts raise their banners and charge, the spearmen begin to rout. The ones trying to climb the hill from the center valley are now trapped between the charmed archers, your cavalry and the units on the hill. The heavy infantry catch their breath while the conscripts take position at the peak. You hold two of the 5 hills now and the third can be won easily.

This battle is undoubtedly yours. Yet...something pricks you. Artur still has not used his battlemage and you have no idea what it's powers are. Is it an illusionist like yours? Something else? You watch as the battlemage flees with its commander, what could his spells be? Why haven't any of them been used yet?

>Charge down to the valley with your conscripts, leave the heavy infantry where they are; take the second hill on Artur's side.
>Chase the routing heavy spearmen with your cavalry, let the other troops rest

>>1998587
>Chase the routing heavy spearmen with your cavalry, let the other troops rest
I don't want to group up our forces in one Blob to see it drowned by a huge river,no thanks.

>>1998587
Chase his command unit with the battlemage with our cavalry and horse archers. Try to shoot the mage/commander.
>let the other troops rest

>>1998587
>Chase the routing heavy spearmen with your cavalry, let the other troops rest

>>1998599
>>1998607
>>1998625

Chase the routers and let the other rest. Writin'

You decide to let the spearmen and heavy infantry hold the hill and rest, while the cavalry charge through the forest and give chase to the fleeing heavy spearmen.

Artur's battlemage worries you, so you send the horse archers west into the forest to find and destroy him.

The cavalry are picking off the routing spearmen and the archers have recovered their senses and covering the men traveling through the valley as they move back to protect the archers.

Then you notice something in the corner of your eye, to the southwestern portion of the forest. A spearmen unit. Not yours. Impossible. You look to the cliff by the river. There's nothing there. No spearmen.

The spearmen are steadily marching toward the central hill, climbing it from the rear...where your commander stands alone. This can't be happening. How is this even possible? You replay the battle in your head. That moment where the spearmen circled behind the eastern hill and went further east toward the cliff. Was that an illusion? Was he actually pushing that unit down the forest?

Fuck! You have no time, you order the commander to run down the hill, but the archers are firing straight across the river. Your commander's body guards fall one-by-one. Your commander is pinned. You've lost.

The lights go out. When they come back on again the whole map is revealed. Wait. Your commander is still alive.

"Good game! I almost had you." Says Artur in a cheery voice. This doesn't make sense--you look for Artur's commander. He's dead. An arrow through his skull and through the battlemage's too. The horse archers held their weight in the end, but it was close. If you hadn't gone for the commander and the battlemage, you would have lost.

The terrain flashes a moment then the floor becomes dark again, lit only by candlelight and a slit opens in the ceiling to lift the wall.

Artur is there, his white eyes shining with pleasure. "Really good game Max. Better than any scenario I've played and not half-bad for your first time."

"Thanks." You say, not feeling deserving of the praise since you only won on a technicality. "That illusion with your spearmen...I should've known something was up when they were just sitting there."

He smiles. "Hey you got me with the heavy infantry. Did not expect you to feint on the side without cover, it was a good move. Though I have to say, the Tuli Nomads are a force to be reckoned with. Maybe I'll play that side next time." He rubs his chin. "Still you're much better than I figured, I mean I was going easy on you," He grins, "but it's still only your first game. Come on, I'll walk back with you to the dorm. Nina!"

>>1998786

His servant is at his side instantly. "Yes master?"
"Max will take me back. You can go."
She frowns at you, then looks at Artur. "Are you sure master?"
"Yes, I'm sure. Go."
She does a curtsy and leaves. You speak with Artur about his home as you walk back. When you start to head downstairs, Artur stops you.
"What are you doing?"
You sigh. "My quarters are apparently with the servants."
"Who said that?"
"Bastion."
"Well that's horseshit. Come stay with me, I have an extra bed anyway since no one wants to room with the half-blood."

>Decline the offer, you'll get out of the doghouse by your own merit
>Accept, it would be nice to sleep on a feather bed, in a room that doesn't smell like a chicken coop

>>1998799
>Accept, it would be nice to sleep on a feather bed, in a room that doesn't smell like a chicken coop

>>1998799
Accept, Artur mah nigga

>>1998799
>Accept, but could you have some time to bid the people you met down there goodbye?

>>1998799
>Accept, it would be nice to sleep on a feather bed, in a room that doesn't smell like a chicken coop

>>1998786
Hey OP do you mind updating the map during battle with unit positions? I was kinda confused a couple of times about it.

>>1998799
>Accept, it would be nice to sleep on a feather bed, in a room that doesn't smell like a chicken coop

>>1998799
>>Accept, it would be nice to sleep on a feather bed, in a room that doesn't smell like a chicken coop
>>1998857
Yeah the map's real confusing
I'm an absolute fucking idiot though so it might be me, but I wish it was easier to read

>>1998808
>>1998815
>>1998818
>>1998821

You accept. As nice as Stark and Lemon have been, their quarters leave much to be desired. You want to sleep on something soft, somewhere that doesn't smell like a sweaty chicken coop. You go down to grab your stuff and explain your situation. The servants are apathetic. Stark tells you "not to wiggle too much, what with a silver spoon so far up your ass you can taste the shit". And Lemon just says "Typical" before returning to his pornographic book.

The servants quarters and Artur's room are like night and day. For one, there's actually a window. A wide one that overlooks the courtyard and the garden beyond it. There are two beds on along each wall, small, but still larger and more comfortable than the wooden bunks downstairs. There's also a closet for storing clothes and a footlocker at the side of each bed for storing valuables, neither of which you have in great supply.

When you enter the room, Artur is already undressing himself and getting ready for bed. You note two things: first, he's even more frail than you thought, no muscle at all in his body. And second, he has small scars all over his back, the kind a whip might inflict.

You ask no questions and Artur says nothing more than, "Good night." before slipping into bed putting the candle out. You do likewise.

You wake in the morning before Artur, just before sunrise. All is quiet. Noble breed are not early risers, you suppose. That's another advantage you have over them. You get up to wash your face and Artur rouses from the sound.

"Whaz time?" He mumbles, rubbing his eyes.
"Dawn." You say.
"Fuckin' paths." He yawns. "Are you a rooster?"
"Didn't mean to wake you." You say.
"'s no problem. But your servant's gonna have one hell of a time." He says, rolling over and pulling the blanket to his chest.
Servant? Clair. You almost forgot about her. You take out the scrying orb from the footlocker. You want to ask Artur what he just meant, but he's already asleep again. You go to the common baths to wash your face. There's also a pool here and though the waters are cold this early in the morning, you decide to take a dip anyway.

Then Bastion walks into the bath and spots you.

"Well if isn't farmer-boy." He says, taking off his towel and slipping in next to you. "Should've figured you for an early riser."

>Leave, this guy is only looking for trouble
>Remain, maybe you two just got off to a bad start

>>1998857
>>1998862
Absolutely. I can't say anything about improving the map quality, but I can definitely update the map as the battle progresses.

If anyone knows some useful map-making software for this sort of thing I'd be willing to use that too

>>1998914
>Remain, maybe you two just got off to a bad start. And if not, leaving will only encourage him.

>>1998914
>>Remain, maybe you two just got off to a bad start
I don't think Bastion's actually that much of a cunt, unlike Victor

>>1998914
Leave, I we ain't friends

>>1998914
Remain, comment on how he's also up at dawn, considering he's bathing with us.

>>1998914
>Remain, maybe you two just got off to a bad start

>>1998931
>>1998933
>>1998941
>>1998945

Writin' to remain.

You want to leave. All you can think about is how this bastard choked you over something that wasn't even your fault. Yet, maybe the two of you just got off to a bad start. Unlike Victor, Bastion seems more reserved and at the very least more cunning. You can try to make amends. It's not good to have the #2 ranking student as your enemy.

"Well, you're also up." You say.

He smiles. "Old habits die hard." Silence follows. "I heard about what happened with Artur."

"You should also know I'm not in the servants quarter's anymore."

"*You* should know who to chum with and who to avoid. You seem to have trouble in that department."

You scoff. "Look I just want to make things clear. I'm not interested in Sarah. I have no interest in her. At all. She's all yours."

He runs his fingers through the water. "But she has an interest in you." He says, slowly. "And I can't allow that."

You sigh. "Look--"

"In two months classes will start and the flag battles will start. And you will be assigned to a mid-tier team and, if my hunches are right--and they always are--you will climb to commander rank in 2 years, maybe less, depending on who you challenge. And by that point, Sarah will be interested in earnest. She'll know herself that she's interested."

"It doesn't matter, I'm not going--"

"It does matter. It does matter Max. You say that now, because you don't know. You're a fucking pig-farmer from Rosnia. And Sarah, Sarah is the daughter of Atuin. Princess of the realm." He sighs. "You sensed it already, I know. Now I'm telling you."

You stop breathing. Princess of the kingdom. Daughter of Atuin. She's not just a noble. She's royalty. What is she doing here? Why on earth is the princess of the realm studying war? You feel you should say something, but you're too stunned to speak.

"Don't misunderstand me, Max. I hate this fucking school and the teachers and the students these fucking games they have us play. I fucking hate Sarah. I hate Atuin. I hate the kingdom." He looks at you, holding your gaze. "But when I set my mind to something, it gets done. What I'm trying to say Max, is the choice will come to you one day and on that day...stay out of my way--or...join me."

Cont.

>>1999111
He's completely serious.

"I-I don't...what are you talking about? Join you in what?"

He looks away. "Did you befriend the servants?"

"Yes. But don't change the subject, what's this all about Bastion?"

His eyes flare and he smiles and crushes the water with his hands. "Good." Then he gets up and towels himself off. "I don't think I have to explain to you what happens if you tell anyone about this conversation, but just in case: first your going to be thrown out of the academy for slandering another noble and then your little village is going to be mysteriously attacked by a well-equipped band of raiders. They'll come for you, specifically but they'll kill everyone you know, hang them, have their way with who they can, as raiders must. And they'll make you watch and only then, when you can bear no more, when you want to tear your own eyes out but can't because your hands are bound, they'll give you the knife and cut you loose. And you'll do it." He wraps the towel around his waist. "But you're not stupid, just a little misguided."

"I don't like being blackmailed Bastion." You say, grinding your teeth.
"I don't know anyone that does." He says, grinning. "Don't worry, whether you believe it or not, I'm on your side." He winks and then leaves.

You sink back into the waters trying to comprehend. Things were much simpler in the village. People were straightforward and honest. It seems you're in a pit of snakes here.

That's all for today! Thanks for playing. We'll continue tomorrow if all goes according to play

>>1999117
Thanks for running, a shame I didn't catch a vote.

Bastion seems to be a real piece of shit, even if he sees himself as some sort of badass freedom fighter.

>>1999117
>Nigga want to fucking take Sarah and coup the whole fucking realm.
>hate filled fucker who don't like nobody
>essentially edgy Cao Cao the glaring weakness that he really want Sarah
Welp time to charm the princess

>>1999117
Thanks for running! This is looking pretty good so far, so i hope you keep going.

>>1999117
What a cunt.
Thanks for runninig OP. Looking forward to more.

>>1998921
You can try using Battle chronicler. Oorrrr you know. Paint.

>>1999181
>runninig
running.

>>1999117
Good thread op. Thanks for running

>>1999128
>>1999143
>>1999233
I told you niggas to leave I TOLD YOU

>>1999117
thanks OP, joined a little late but caught up, very enjoyable.

>>1999379
What would leaving have accomplished?
He'd be the same crazy asshole he is now only he'd like us even less and we wouldn't know about it

>>1999387
>What would leaving have accomplished?
He wouldn't have had the conversation, been immediately blackmailed and keep running his own show for the time being. How do you know we would've have found someone better than him or more diplomatic.
Rule number 1: don't stick your d in crazy
We've got potential and sometimes we gotta take more risks.

>[desire to beat this fucker to death intensifies]

He's got some fire in him, sure, but that won't save him from getting powerbombed into oblivion. He isn't the cleverest little shit, otherwise he would have kept his hand a bit closer to his chest instead of showing his cards like that. Sounds like he has perseverance but not patience. Arrogant, too. Still, he isn't an idiot so he'll be a hurdle and a half.

>>1999503
Basically he needs to have an accident or we need to become so damn talented and famous that he cant touch us for shit.

Man, I was really hoping this wouldn't die. I might steal the idea and make my own thread. But I'm not nearly as good a writer.

>>2012655
After some pondering I've decided to continue this quest (and one other). I like the premise enough and thought of some things I want to try. Hopefully the quality of the writing will pick up as well. Next session today or tomorrow

>>2013155
don't play with my feelings OP.

>>2013155
What time?