>>2076489
>>South: The Sukhar Wall, Sutherland Gate (an ancient wall that runs in broken lines all across the continent, the cities of the merchant lords lie beyond)

>>2076489 (OP)
>>South: The Sukhar Wall, Sutherland Gate (an ancient wall that runs in broken lines all across the continent, the cities of the merchant lords lie beyond)

>>2076489
>South: The Sukhar Wall, Sutherland Gate (an ancient wall that runs in broken lines all across the continent, the cities of the merchant lords lie beyond)

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>>2076493
>>2076501
>>2076513

To the south, you decide. Where the grasslands meet with hills and the stars kiss the earth--or so they say. As an added bonus you'll get to see the fabled Sukhar wall. Only a part of it, of course, the great wall has long since fallen from its former glory, as have its builders, the Mool.

You've heard stories around the guard campfire about the markings on the wall. Etched by some ancient magic. Words of power. Kaizkal in the old tongue, the last language of Sages. Our words are pale imitations, some closer than others, none as powerful as the original. More than once you've heard about men going to those walls and traveling along them with a strange perverse madness, seeking endlessly to try and unravel the intricate patterns writ by a hand long gone.

You've always wanted to see it and now, fixed upon it by fortune (bad fortune, you grant) itself, you have the chance. With a groan and a last look at your past, and last remembrance of Lady Halterket's tender breasts, you heft the pack to your shoulder and move onward through the dark road.

In a few moments, the marks of civilization disappear and you are among the hills and rocks of a great plain which the road cuts through but in patches. As you mount the peak of a hill you hear words booming across the sky and spot in the distance flashes of brief light.

They illuminate a small figure engaged in ferocious combat with several others. The assailants are not men, but Nozil, Those-Without-Shadow, lesser creatures of the Great Void that attack lone travelers. Shaped like an amalgam of different creatures smashed together, goat heads, bug bodies, tiny ferret-like feet sprouting across their stomachs and torsos. You grab the wooden prayer beads around your neck at the sight of them.

The one who fights them speaks in the imitated tongue. Her words create spheres of white flame which she throws at the creatures and which keep them at bay but do not kill them, for they are swift.

Your hand moves to your

>Sword
>Spear
>Crossbow
>Other

>>2076568
>Spear

>The least appreciated weapon.

>>2076576
Your hand moves to your spear, the only weapon you could find in the armory and you move down the hill as fast as you can. The Nozil will not stay long among company. Like all creatures of the Great Void, they're cowards.

You scream as you approach, attracting the attention of one long enough for a ball of white flame to burst through its stomach. For a moment it stands paralyzed, then it shatters into dust and darkness. You wave your spear and charge and the creatures start to flee, falling to the ground on their numerous ferret feet and skittering away like centipedes.

You get a closer look at who you've just rescued. It's a girl, maybe a few years younger than you, auburn hair cropped to her neck, holding her knees and sweating. Behind her you can see a small burnt out campfire and a small wheelbarrow--the kind a child might pull--full of old books.

"You alright?"

She takes a moment to swallow and catch her breath and then meets your eyes. Her face is plump and soft and white. It reminds you of a bowl of cream, freshly taken from an udder. She frowns at you.

"Quite fine." She says, taking out a small handkerchief and then blowing her nose.

"Yeah? What's a nice girl like you doing out here, alone, this time of night, without any charms against the Void?"

"I said I was fine. You can go on your way now." She says, waving dismissively at the road.

"I don't get a thank you?"

"What? For what?" She snaps. "For interrupting my research?" She rubs her nose with the cloth and waves at you again, turning toward her dead campfire. "Leave me alone."

>Leave
>Ask her what she's researching

>>2076622
>>Ask her what she's researching
How to Become Nozil Bait 101?

>>2076684
this

>>2076622
>Ask her what she's researching
Are you researching on how to die? You shouldn't throw your life away like that

>>2076622
>Ask her what she's researching
Sounds important, surely a great one such as you can spare some time to inform me.

>discover the new world

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>>2076684
>>2076705
>>2076718
>>2076753

"And what are you researching? Suicide?"

She ignores you and points a forefinger at the dead fire. With a word of the imitated tongue a beam of flame erupts from the tip to touch the skin of the wood, igniting it. In seconds a warmth spreads outward.

"You would've been voidmeat if I hadn't shown up--are you listening to me?"

She sighs and glares at you as she sits by the fire. "I research the Great Void and its spawn." She says. "And I was handling those Nozil just fine without you."

"Oh pardon me then, I didn't realize I was talking to a fucking Ra-master, what with all the sweating and huffing a few seconds ago."

She frowns. "I'm no Ra-master." She mutters.

"No shit. And researching the Great Void? Are you fucking insane?"

She smiles. "Not the first time I've heard that. The mountains are high from the ground and to the fish the sky is another sea."

"Don't quote the Sages at night. It's bad luck." You mumble.

She laughs; throaty, pretty laughter over the grass.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing. Your Parastan superstitions amuse me."

"It's not superstition, everyone knows not to quote the sages at night. It attracts the Void."

She sidles closer to you and begins stripping her robes, dropping the loose garments until they fall to their shoulders. Despite yourself, the sudden disrobe speeds up your heart in expectation of something more, but then she turns and shows you her back. Spots of skin stand out from the rest of the fair white. Circular holes in the flesh, spreading downward toward her waist.

"You're voidtouched?" You swallow, inching back from the horrible sight.

She restores her dress and nods. "My research is one of necessity. Not choice."

"But there's no cure...right?"

"So they say. And you? I wasn't expecting to see any menfolk on this road--why aren't you at Kisellli?"

>Tell her your story
>Make something up
>Other

>>2077056
>Tell her your story
There is nothing to be embarrassed about

>>2077056
>Tell her your story
An early lie can only mean terrible trouble down the line. Unless she's violently against adultery, what she thinks of our actions is less important than a truthful foundation.

>>2077056
>Tell her your story

>>2077056
>>Other
Ah i'm on my way down south to look for work as a sellsword-merchant.

(Don't tell a magically contaminated individual important information you dunces.)

>>2077110
Who gives a shit, she has little to gain from learning we fucked a noble

>>2077073
>>2077083
>>2077098

"I used to be a guard. In a town just a few miles back." You point in the direction you just came from. "But due to some...circumstances, I had to leave."

"Circumstances?" She raises a brow.

"I kind of..." You clear your throat. "Had a thing with the Lady of the estate." You rub your neck--though really you have nothing to be ashamed of, it's almost a point of pride. Lady Halterket was not a homely woman.

"A brood parasite." She says, folding her arms. "Did you inseminate her?" There's a strange restrained excitement in her voice, mixed in with the obvious displeasure.

"No. We were careful. Never on dangerous days, never inside. But it wasn't really my fault. She came on to me--and what I was supposed to do? She's the lady of the house--"

"Disgusting."

"How's the weather up there on your high horse?"

She looks away at the fire. "Adultery ruins families." She says, softly.

"Well she didn't have much of a family for me to ruin. Her husbands in the war, her children are out of home. She was lonely and I guess...backed up. Really backed up."

"And? Where are you headed now? I'm surprised you weren't executed immediately."
"The Captain knew my father and owed him a favor, so I shirked the execution."

"Pity."

You narrow your eyes. "I'm headed south, past the Sukhar Wall and then into the Sutherlands. Hoping to get some work with the Banizrel merchants."

"Hmm. You know how to use that spear then?"

>You're more of a lover than a fighter and pretty much played hooky during all the combat drills. The spear is more show than anything (Untrained, Cost: 0)
>You received the basic training that all guards are subject to--better than nothing, but not by much (Novice, Cost: 1, +1 to your combat rolls)
>You had natural talent for the martial arts and were personally trained by the Captain (Skilled, Cost: 3, +3 to your combat rolls, 1 free combat maneuver)

>You have 5 EXP to spend
>You gain EXP from resolving encounters, good roleplaying and creativity
>You can spend EXP to upgrade existing skills or learn new ones

>>2077207
>You had natural talent for the martial arts and were personally trained by the Captain (Skilled, Cost: 3, +3 to your combat rolls, 1 free combat maneuver)

To give some context to the modifiers (since I haven't done any rolls up to yet):

>All rolls are best of the first three d20s
>DC ranges from 5-35
>Mods stack most of the time

>>2077237
Why best of three, the system is flawed as it makes failed rolls almost irrelevant, unless crit fails override

>>2077249
Yeah nat 1s override normal rolls and nat 20s override nat 1s

>You had natural talent for the martial arts and were personally trained by the Captain (Skilled, Cost: 3, +3 to your combat rolls, 1 free combat maneuver)

>>2077207
>>You had natural talent for the martial arts and were personally trained by the Captain (Skilled, Cost: 3, +3 to your combat rolls, 1 free combat maneuver)

>>2077207
>You received the basic training that all guards are subject to--better than nothing, but not by much (Novice, Cost: 1, +1 to your combat rolls)

>>2077249
Every system is flawed becouse of rng
And what you talking about?
Im falledmany a bo3 rolls
What type would you rather?

>>2077215
>>2077284
>>2077330

>>2077215
>>2077284

At her question you wince, remembering the cold autumn mornings with the good Captain, watching his demonstrations with the spear and sword and fist and then spending the morning and better part of the afternoon sparring with the other guards. There was no breakfast until you had won at least 3 matches. And later, it was increased to 5.

Thankfully you had some natural talent (or maybe the other guards were just incompetent) and never once went hungry. The Captain pushed you more than the others, in part because of his friendship with your father but you also think that he liked teaching you.

"I'm not bad." You say, basking in your own humility. "I'd be a match for most."

She nods. "Good. Then maybe you can help me with a job."

It hasn't even been a day and you've already found work--although your prospective employer leaves much to be desired.

"What kind of job?"

"The kind one needs a sellsword for."

When she sees that this non-answer doesn't satisfy you, she sighs and continues. "I've been tracking a group of undesireables--deserters--that have been pillaging across Parasta. Local enforcement has been able to do little against them because one of them speaks the imitated tongue."

You remember hearing something about this on the grapevine. They call themselves Akaladam--"Earthdust"--and the guards were actually preparing to engage them a few months ago, but they never came.

"What's that to you?" You ask. "I thought you were a researcher?"

"I've been employed by a Banizrel merchant, Shalock, to...retrieve something from them. He has promised me some funds and other materials I need for research. It's a simple exchange. I don't imagine it will get violent, but just in case, I'd like to have some muscle with me."

"What's in it for me? I'd want something upfront."

"How mercenary." She says, dryly. "Well there's little I can give you right now. You can have a portion of the funds, say 25%? It should come to about a hundred emils. Once we meet with Shalock. I can also introduce you to him, perhaps give a start to your career. Or, I can also teach you a few words of Lisan, one of the closer imitated tongues. It should be simple enough for you learn by the time we get there. Better than any Parastan mudword anyway."

You decide to ignore that little jibe at your hometongue and consider your options.

>Spend 1 EXP to learn a few words of Lisan (obtain a new spell)
>Take the 25% cut of funds and the reference. It's nearly half a years wages.
>Why not both? Offer to take a lesser cut (10%) in exchange for the lesson in language

>You've gained a combat maneuver, choose one

>Rapid strike - Allows an extra attack in exchange for 2 energy
>Shield - When wielding shield you get a +1 to combat
>Disarm - Must be called before dice are rolled. Spend 3 energy, if your roll succeeds you have disarmed your opponent

>You currently have 10/10 energy

>>2077402
>>Why not both? Offer to take a lesser cut (10%) in exchange for the lesson in language

>>Shield - When wielding shield you get a +1 to combat

>Why not both? Offer to take a lesser cut (10%) in exchange for the lesson in language

>Rapid strike - Allows an extra attack in exchange for 2 energy

The money will probably be enough and a new spell sounds interesting, does that mean we can do magic?

>>2077402
>>Why not both? Offer to take a lesser cut (10%) in exchange for the lesson in language
>Shield - When wielding shield you get a +1 to combat

>>2077402
> Why not both? Offer to take a lesser cut (10%) in exchange for the lesson in a language

> Rapid strike - Allows an extra attack in exchange for 2 energy

>>2077402
>>Why not both? Offer to take a lesser cut (10%) in exchange for the lesson in language
>>Rapid strike - Allows an extra attack in exchange for 2 energy

>>2077402
>Spend 1 EXP to learn a few words of Lisan (obtain a new spell)

>Rapid strike - Allows an extra attack in exchange for 2 energy

> Why not both? Offer to take a lesser cut (10%) in exchange for the lesson in a language

> Rapid strike - Allows an extra attack in exchange for 2 energy

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>Yet another Spearfag quest

>>2077402
>>Spend 1 EXP to learn a few words of Lisan (obtain a new spell)
>>2077402

>>Shield

The 100 emil is tempting, it would be a good start to your new life. But learning a few words in the imitated tongue has longer and more immediate utility. The Captain may have been a great soldier and swordsman (good enough that only his age prevented Lord Halterket from taking him along to Kiselli) but he knew nothing of Language. The only one in the estate that did know anything--the in-house physician--kept it to himself. Probably to ensure his continued employment.

But you're not about to part with emil if you can help it either.

"How about this? You give me 50 emil instead of 100 and you also teach me some Lisan."

She seems to like the idea. A smile starts to unfold in her mouth. "I'll give you 40." She says.

"Deal." You were expecting to get negotiated down to 30. "So." You rub your hands. "What word am I learning? Those fireballs I saw would be useful--or maybe something to heal wounds. I saw a physician mend a broken bone once--miraculous stuff, very lucrative in the right place."

"I only know some words for a basic shielding spell." She says, grounding your fantasies instantly. She stands up and steps back. "The root word, Ď͙͙ͪ̓̏͛̍̓̽͟e̛̫̤͕͍͓̯̳͑ͬ͒̉̏̇ͭ̾ṙ̶͔̦͍̟̇͐ͤ͂͒͋ā͓̋͌̂̚͟͢i̷͎̠͛͋ͨ͒͆͐̔͑̍̀͠ will create a flat barrier that repels physical blows--to a certain point." At her word, a white circular sheet of transparent glass appears at her hand, about the length of your arm in diameter. "It's not unlike a normal physical shield. I suppose I can also teach you a modifier--but only one, there's not enough time for more."

"How strong is this shield?"

"Depends on how much Ra you put into it. Have you ever touched your Ra? Has anyone else?"

You shake your head.

"A Ra-virgin?" She laughs. "Delightful. Not many of those in Gizrathi--don't worry, I'll be *very* gentle." She gives a playful wink but holds it too long so that it ends up looking something just flew into her eye.

"Hilarious. But is this actually going to be useful?"

"Don't underestimate Lisan. It's one of the 3 derivative tongues. It has power. With some practice, you should be able to gain the same functionality and durability as a regular shield--and once you learn the modifier, some versatility besides."

"Alright." You regret not listening to the Captain's lectures on shield technique now, but in your defense they hardly mattered in the sparring matches. You were simply too fast on your feet for the other guards.

"Good." She sighs and releases the Ra-shield and it dissipates into a clear vapor. "Now come, the first thing we need to do is touch your Ra. Open your mouth and stick your tongue out..."

1/3

>>2079625
You obey. She steps forward and starts prodding your tongue with her finger and with a little more enthusiasm then you'd like. "Pink as a petal. You really are a virgin." She giggles. Her finger reaches so far back down your mouth that you start to gag.

"Oh don't be such a baby."

"Uh ab uhr fuhguh im my thoad!"

"Stay still, would you? Alright...now, what I'm going to do next is an old Gizrathi trick, much faster than the usual tongue piercing you do in Parasta. Less...painful too. I'm telling you this because I don't want you to get the wrong idea--I know what vile customs you have in Parasta so this might be misconstrued as something that it isn't. Normally it would be done by an elder priest of the same sex. Just keep that in mind."

"Whad ah uh taging aboud?"

"Close your eyes. I can't do it with you looking at me."

You close your eyes. You can feel her move closer, her finger still on your tongue, drawing it out. You gag again and hear her curse. "Hold still!" You can feel her fingers pull your tongue out as far as it will go, then something incredibly soft wrap around it, enfolding it--her lips you realize, and then her tongue top of your tongue, stacked like two planks of wood. Then you feel a sharp sting as from a needle or a drop of boiling and draw back, breathless.

"Ah! What the fuck?" You grab your mouth, the pain is still there but rapidly fading.

She spits at the grass and wipes her mouth. "Ugh. Try touching your Ra now." She says. "Put your tongue to the roof of your mouth and breathe through your nose, pull up from your groin to the base of your neck. Do you feel it?"

You do as she says and at first don't feel anything, just the passing of the pain and the pleasant memory of her mouth sucking on your tongue just moments before. Something generally only shared between passionate lovers and which is taboo in most places. Even in Parasta it's considered to be a high perversion. Your thoughts are interrupted by a crackle of energy, like a rush of air and lightning, running up your spine.

"Good. Now bring it up over your head, through the face, and the mouth and the tongue and now back down to the groin. Circulate it a few times."

You do so with pleasure, feeling your skin goosepimple with every pass of the strange energy. After the third pass you start to feel tired and after the fifth, you're sweating a storm.

"I don't feel so good. Should I stop?"

"How many times? How many times did it go around?"

"5, now 6."

"Hmm, not bad. Keep going."

You obey, drawing the Ra through and through, feeling more and more exhausted with every turn. Your eyelids start to droop, then your lungs begin to burn like you've just run 20 laps around the training fields.

"I can't anymore."

"How many?"

"Ten."

"Alright, stop. That's enough."

You stop and the energy dissipates instantly. You collapse backward catching yourself with your arms and coughing and gasping for air.

2/3

>>2079641

"Not bad for a virgin. Here." She hands you a wineskin. Tasting it, you find it's filled with a sweet-tasting milk which brings immediate relief to your exhaustion. She grabs the wineskin from your mouth before you can down more than a single mouthful. You glare at her "This is expensive." She says in defense. "We can continue in the morning, on the road. The hard part is over anyhow." She puts the wineskin back in her bag. "You have decent Ra for a virgin. Good. That's good." She mutters.

You feel pleased and a little dazed. You wipe your mouth and lie back on the grass, feeling the cool air mop up the sweat from your brow. Yesterday you were a simple guard having an affair with your boss's wife. Today you're a Ra-user.

The Great Wheel spins down strange paths.

You can feel sleep coming on and expect the girl to lie down as well, but instead, she moves over to the fire, throws some more dead grass into it, picks up one of the books from her little wheelbarrow and starts to read.

"Don't you sleep?" You ask.

Her eyes flick from her book to you, then back to book. "It's a side effect of being voidtouched. Something of a boon really."

>Get some sleep
>Make conversation. What's her name even? Where is she from?

>>2079645
>>Get some sleep

>>2079645
>Make conversation. What's her name even? Where is she from?
Lets give her some company as long as we can

>>2079645
>Get some sleep

>>2079645
>>Make conversation. What's her name even? Where is she from?

>>2079645
>>Make conversation. What's her name even? Where is she from?

>>2079645
>>Make conversation. What's her name even? Where is she from?

>>Make conversation. What's her name even? Where is she from?
I hope OP is alive.

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>>2079662
>>2079922
>>2079930
>>2080071
>>2084655

"I just realized I don't even know your name." You say, propping yourself on your elbow.

"Oh are we suddenly friends now?" She says, her eyes not straying from her book.

"Well, you don't have to be a bitch about it." You mutter.

She sighs. "My name is Abenwen Tatakhay. You may call me Abenwen."

"Can I call you Abby instead?"

"No."

"So where are you from Abby?"

She glares at you and you smile back. You like to think this disarmed her because she now returns to her book. "I was born in Gizrathi. Madi--do you know it?"

You shake your head. You've never been more than 2 miles from the estate, not since you moved here with your father from what is now Kiselli 20 years ago. Even where you sit now is fresh and far to you. But Abby's fair skin and her way of pronouncing Parastan vowels with a lilting, up-and-down, sing-song breath start to make sense.

"Well...it is a nice place. I suppose. Past the Vein of the Old King, and by the river of Nahrdum that runs between. Surrounded by the clearest sky, by the buried ruins of the Mool. Heat and falling sand and dust. More vibrant skies because of the thin air." She cranes her neck to the search the stars and then closes her eyes and smiles.

"You sound like you miss it."

Her eyes open and in a flash, they are back to the book. "Perhaps. Some things. Not all."

"Then why are you out here, so far from home? Is it because of the..." You gesture towards her back. "Your research?"

"In part. The Speakers in Gizrathi could not cure my affliction and therefore I've taken matters into my own hands. As with any real endeavor, two things are required: persistence and coin. One I have, and of the other: I've run out. And so here I am."

"The Speakers? But I thought Gizrathi followed bloodlaws? Aren't non-pures unallowed audiences with Speakers?"

"Yes." She says, turning a page. You sit straight up.

"Wait a second. You're bloodpure? You're...royalty?"

Her lips purse, whitening the pink plumpness and her eyes close again, briefly. "You should get some sleep. We have much distance to cover in the morning." You can sense her unwillingness to elaborate, but your curiosity has been ignited. There are really only two possibilities: either she is pure-by-touch, meaning she is a "distant wife", a member of the royal harem, or she is actually bloodpure--by descendence. You're not sure which is more unbelievable, given that neither is allowed to leave the confines of Gizrathi under penalty of rootdeath. The whole lineage destroyed by the error of a single member.

Which leaves the third option: she's lying. Yet even from this brief encounter, you feel this is impossible. She has no reason to lie. You look at her again, seeing her now in a new light, noticing subtle graces and movements you had not given mind to before. Royalty. You push the thought out of mind, unable to reconcile it, and fall into a deep sleep.

1/2

>>2085337

Abby kicks you awake the next morning. You offer a few choice words on how you feel about her methods and she rolls her eyes at you. She kicks pretty hard for royalty.

It is mid-morning, well after sunrise. The air is even colder than in the night so that you must remove Lady Halterket's scarf from your bag and wrap it around your face. A face full of lavender reminds you of a face full of other things and your mood brightens immediately.

"Breakfast?" You offer Abby some of your hardtack as you walk, seeing that she eats nothing of her own.

She eyes the cornmeal loaf suspiciously and breaks off a small piece. She tastes it and seems to enjoy it, but says nothing further. You offer more.

"No thank you." She says, hesitantly.

"I have a lot."

"No."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"I really do have a lot though, no need to be shy."

She stops and glares at you. You back away, arms raised. "Alright, alright. Just trying to be nice."

"That's not what I'm paying you for."

"Speaking of which, aren't you forgetting something? I touched my Ra yesterday. I want to learn the words now."

"The word is Ď͙͙ͪ̓̏͛̍̓̽͟e̛̫̤͕͍͓̯̳͑ͬ͒̉̏̇ͭ̾ṙ̶͔̦͍̟̇͐ͤ͂͒͋ā͓̋͌̂̚͟͢i̷͎̠͛͋ͨ͒͆͐̔͑̍̀͠. Ď͙͙ͪ̓̏͛̍̓̽͟e̛̫̤͕͍͓̯̳͑ͬ͒̉̏̇ͭ̾. ṙ̶͔̦͍̟̇͐ͤ͂͒͋ā͓̋͌̂̚͟͢i̷͎̠͛͋ͨ͒͆͐̔͑̍̀͠. The saying is easy. The hard part is channeling your Ra correctly. Try it."

>Roll a 1d20

>Try to focus on channeling as much Ra you can into your hand
>Try to focus on maintaining steady, precise control over your Ra
>Try something completely different (write-in)

Rolled 16 (1d20)

>>2085353
>>Try to focus on maintaining steady, precise control over your Ra

Rolled 1 (1d20)

>>2085353
>Try to focus on maintaining steady, precise control over your Ra

Rolled 11 (1d20)

>>2085353
>>Try to focus on maintaining steady, precise control over your Ra

I'll try to contribute to this quest, it seems interesting.

>>2085378
>>2085583
>>2085706

>Critical Failure

You focus on your Ra, circulating the electrical energy once through your body before carefully and precisely pooling it into your hand. It's like controlling a flow of water or steam through a system of malleable pipes, it will not stay in one place, no matter how hard you try, but you can slow its movement so that it accumulates in places. It's much more difficult than you imagined, losing your focus for even the briefest instant dissipates the energy or relaxes the control over the flow.

Nevertheless, after a few minutes of futile struggle, you start to get the hang of it.

"Derai." You say, but nothing happens.

"Roll the R, and add a little more breath to the beginning."

"Derrrai."

"Too much rolling."

You say the word a few times in your head, making the motions with your mouth but not giving it voice."Ď͙͙ͪ̓̏͛̍̓̽͟e̛̫̤͕͍͓̯̳͑ͬ͒̉̏̇ͭ̾ṙ̶͔̦͍̟̇͐ͤ͂͒͋ā͓̋͌̂̚͟͢i̷͎̠͛͋ͨ͒͆͐̔͑̍̀͠. Woah." Instantly you can feel a sucking force drain your energy toward your hand. The transparent glass shield appears and you can it feel it's power, it's indestructibility growing stronger and stronger as your Ra is forced into it by an unceasing vacuum.

You're not sure what comes first, your screaming or the teeth-shattering pain radiating through your whole body. You can see Abby's frantic face calling to you, motioning with her hands, yelling at you--but the sound is drowned out by your own yelling. It feels like your insides are being pulled out through your hand, your stomach and your lungs and heart, all the organs just sucked out.

You realize you're going to die. You've heard some stories from the good Captain, about battle, about what happens when a soldier is near his death. He sees every moment of his life suddenly and in detail like he was walking through his memories, and though only an instant passes he sees it all, lives it all, countless times--a final mercy before the Great Void. And this process begins to start for you and the first image you see is one you do not recognize, a square-jawed man bearing an uncomfortable smile and next to him a small, mousy woman, bearing a tired one. Your father and mother, you realize.

But there the vision ends, interrupted by Abby's fist connecting with the back of your neck.

All goes black. When you awake, your mouth tastes like bile and coins, you try and spit and but have no saliva to do it with. It's midday now, judging by the shadow of the trees and sun's prominence in the sky. You realize you're moving. Your body has been crumpled into the wheelbarrow and the books are on top you, on your lap and chest. When you move, Abby stops and rushes to your side.

"Open your eyes. Quickly!" You blink and try to keep them open. She pulls the eyelids apart and then blows air into them, making you squeeze them shut and tear up. Two droplets fall across your cheek. You can hear her sigh as you squint in pain.

>>2086017

"Here. Drink." She shoves the skin of milk to you, you drink deep and this time she lets you. You feel much better, but the milk doesn't have the same potency as before. "How do you feel?" She asks--quieter than you expected. Was she concerned?

You unsteadily get to your feet. "I'm OK, I think. But what happened? One second it was working and then...I thought I going to die. You saved me, didn't you?"

She touches her forehead with three fingers, kneading the flesh. "We should've focused longer on the Ra flow. I didn't realize you were a Khazzan type. I'm sorry. It's my fault." She gives you a look of such contrition and guilt that you're almost moved enough to enfold her in a hug.

"It's OK right? I mean I'm still alive."

She nods. "No permanent damage. It's usually the eyes that go first in these cases." She mutters.

"Well, I can see you just fine. So what happened exactly? What's a Khazzan type?"

"Are you OK to walk?" She asks, voice still gentle and soft. You could get used to this.

"I told you I'm fine."

"Alright." She grabs the handle of her wheelbarrow continues walking. "There are flavors of Ra-users, corresponding to the three main variables of Ra: Flow, Capacity, and Saturation. This you know?"

You nod. This is pretty common knowledge. Learned by word of mouth from ones parents and refined by rumors and storytelling among friends.

"The first type, Murkab, has low capacity, they cannot hold much Ra in their bodies, nor generate it in great amount, but they have great Flow and Saturation--what you might call "control" over their Ra. I am of this type. To the Murkab, even the most complex flow patterns are trivial, easy as breathing. Our focus is supreme, but we run out of Ra very quickly. Murkab are the most common type and generally the easiest to train and it's what I thought you were--though I should've known from your Ra cycles that something was unusual." She takes out her handkerchief wipes her brow with it. She's sweating quite a bit and you realize that she must've been pulling your body for miles.

"You are a Khazzan, the third and rarest type. They are the direct opposite of the Murkab--enormous, almost unnatural Capacity, but little control. They are also the hardest to train but, if trained, can become the most powerful. The Sages for example, were all believed to be Khazzan--all but two."

>>2086030

"OK. So if I understand this correctly, my body produces lots of Ra, but I can't control any of it? Is that why I almost died?"

"You lost your focus. You opened a Ra channel and then pushed your Flow to full blast. The only reason you didn't voidcollapse is because of your tremendous Capacity. It would've taken a long time--a few minutes--for it to happen. And then there would've been a small hole in reality where you once stood. So I knocked you out and I gave you some of my Ra so you didn't go into a negative Flow and die." It's the first time you've seen her blush, a pinkish hue that colors the surface of her plum-like cheeks. Now you're wondering how exactly she transferred her Ra to you.

"Thanks." You say, after a short pause, unsure of how to continue.

She shrugs. "It was my fault, to begin with, making assumptions that weren't correct. I'm just glad you're OK--" She catches herself. "Because of the job, of course. That's what I meant." She blushes again and you smile, clapping her playfully on the back, which she shrugs off.

The road now swerves into a thick forest. Trees like great obelisks of brown and green cover the sun and hide the source of animal cries and bird calls. Suddenly, Abby holds up a hand and stops.

"What is it?"

"Come out!" Shouts Abby, moving her head from tree to tree. "I know you're there!"

"Well, well, well. Looks like the face has the brains to match boys, we've found ourselves a winner." An oily, slick voice comes out from the trees. A man emerges beside you, tall, well-built and dark like a pure Parastan, dressed in light leather plate--he's either a lieutenant or a corpsestealer. You decide to give him the benefit of the doubt. A few more men--you count 5--emerge from both sides. Three have crossbows aimed at you, two are holding standard issue spears--the kind given out to recruits during conscription.

"I'm Abenwen." Says Abby. "I believe your leader is expecting me."

"Oho! She believes--you hear that boys? That's the Gizrathi in her." Says the Lieutenant. Then he looks at you, almost surveying you like a butcher might survey a piece of meat. "Yes, yes, I think he is." He says. "Pity. I was hoping to taste you a little, Gizrathin. We could've had a lot of fun."

"I'm not sure vomiting followed by your castration is my idea of a good time. But I appreciate the thought." Says Abby, flatly. "Now then, why don't you lead me to your leader?"

The Parastan seems only amused by the rebuttal and whistles with his fingers. Two more men come out of the trees with ropes and cloth. "You know how this goes, Gizrathin?"

"Just get it over with." She says, holding out her arms. "But I'm going to take a tongue for every one of my books that are missing or damaged in any way."

"We'll be veeery gentle." Says the Lieutenant, winking.

One of the Lieutenant's men now binds Abby's hands and eyes and the other comes to you to do the same.

"Play along, Columbus." Says Abby.

>Obey
>Resist
>Other

>>2086043
I'm sure she's got a plan. It sounds like she's got a plan, right?

>Obey

Hmm I think my long posts + workposting forcing long gaps between updates, might have killed this quest.

>>2086043
>Obey

>>2086043
>>Obey

>>2086076
its probably just the late hour

>>2086066
>>2086119

Reluctantly you release your spear and let the man bind your arms and eyes. "Alright, are they good?" Asks Parastan. He checks your binds. "Good. Let's go." They spin you back and forth and then they march you into the woods. An hour passes in silent guidance--you feel nervous, even as you know that Abby surely has a plan. But you don't know what plan is. You start running some scenarios in your head--you don't even have your weapon anymore, but if you could disarm one of the spearmen, maybe take the Lieutenant hostage--but he looks like his muscles aren't just for show.

You can hear more voices now and the rushing of water and suddenly the men stop and your blindfold is removed. You see Abby a few paces ahead. The Parastan walks over to her and personally undoes her binds, getting a little too close for her comfort. Abby flashes him a killing glare and he backs off--still wearing a smile. You look around you while you wait for someone to release your binds as well. You are in some kind of a camp, three Parastan tents, domed and held up by fish wire surround a dead campfire. A little ways down you can see a small stream--the same whose waters you heard as you came in. You see another four new faces in the camp, squatting on the grass and throwing dice in a heated game.

"Wait here, Gizrathin. I'll get the boss." Says the Parastan. And you notice now that no one is coming to release you. The men have all moved away from you, and the nearest to you is poking your back with your own spear, urging your forward. "Hey what the fuck is this? Unite me." The bandit only laughs. "Abby. Abby, get them to untie me." She doesn't even turn to look in your direction, only walks forward toward the dead campfire, tapping her foot, waiting. "Abenwen. Abby!" You yell.

"Shut the fuck up." Says the bandit.

The Parastan comes out of the tent and behind him is a shorter man, older, balding. He holds a small boy in his arms, about 5 or 6 years old, asleep, wearing rich colorful furs and silks. Not the clothing of lowborn. "So Shalock took us seriously. Good."

"He's not hurt is he?" Asks Abby.

"Not a hair on his head." Says the man, smiling so that his wrinkles show themselves. He looks like a fly, large bug eyes, and a small puckered mouth. Dark skin suggesting his Parastan lineage, but lighter than the Lieutenant, suggesting a mixed one. Abby reaches forward for the little boy.

"The ransom?" Asks the man, pulling back.

And here Abby's eyes swivel briefly backward. At you.

That kid needs to die in front of her

"Ah I see." Says the man, softly, popping his lips open like a fish. And so do you. She didn't need muscle--or she did, but not for protection. She wasn't concerned for your well-being--or she was, but in the same way, a sheepherder is concerned with the health of the lamb he will slaughter.

"Abby what the fuck is this?" She ignores you, continuing in a flat, steady tone.

"He's healthy. He has some guard training or something. Good with a spear. He's a Ra-user too. I taught him some words in Lisan." Says Abby.

This can't be happening right now. You try and struggle with your bonds. "Abby! Abby look at me!" She does not look at you.

"He'll go for double the ransom. More if you do some prepwork--break him in first."

The old man chuckles. "I know how it goes, little Gizrathin." He looks over to you, studying you the same way the Parastan did. "It doesn't look like it'll be easy." He says, smiling as though he almost relished the thought.

"I'm sure you'll manage." Says Abby. "Now then." She holds out her arms again and now the old man complies and hands the child over. Abby slaps the child awake, he rubs his eyes and yawns.

"Wake up! Are you hurt anywhere?" The boy looks at Abby and shakes his head. "What's your name? Can you tell me?"

"Shemai." Says the boy, with a Suther drawl.

Abby pats the boy in the head. "Good boy. So. Are we done? We have an understanding?" She asks the old man. The old man steps forward, coming closer to you.

"We're square." He says, tracing a finger across your chin and down your arm. "You keep the ransom, I'll make I took it. Everybody wins."

Abby starts to back away into the woods.

"Abby! Abby please, please don't do this!" You scream. She's gone, disappeared behind bramble and bush.

"Track her." The old man says, to the Parastan. "Wait until she comes out of Be-Gata, then." He pops his mouth again, pointing at his temple. "Put one in her head. Take the spellgun with you. You'll need it."

"Yes boss." The Parastan whistles and the men playing dice gather their things and move with him into the forest.

"And you my friend, will be coming with me. You like Sutherland tea?" He slings an arm around your shoulder and pushes you forward.

>Make a run for it into the forest (roll 1d20)
>Bide your time, there'll be an opportunity later
>Write-in

Rolled 13 (1d20)

>>2086188
>>Make a run for it into the forest (roll 1d20)

>>2086192
Sorry I should've been a little more clear. You roll after the vote is decided. This roll won't count.

>>2086188
>Write-in
Surge your Ra to break the bindings and then run

>>2086188
>>Bide your time, there'll be an opportunity later

>>2086315
Changing to this

>>Bide

>>bite his ear off then run for it into the forest

>>2086315
>>2086407

You don't struggle. It's better to save your energy for a better opportunity--and for catching up to Abby and--and, you're not even sure what--but definitely something painful and permanent.

You are led into the old man's tent. Soft sunlight comes through some open flaps on the domed roof illuminating a hammock strung between the main tent pole and the back wall. Next to it, on the ground, are a pile of random pieces of armor: shoulder pads, gauntlets, greaves, several helms and a few shields. Spoils of corpsestealing. You think you see a chain shirt peeking between the metal--which means that they killed or robbed a Lord. A capital offense. You scan the room for anything resembling a weapon. A small stool is set against the main tent pole, a chair is set next to it--the kind that folds up--and a jug of water next to the chair. On the stool is a map, incomplete and held taut by two heavy stones. It details the local area. You can make out the road and the Sukhar wall further south. It looks hand-drawn and that means the old man is not cut from the common cloth; literacy is a luxury reserved for those whose fingers are unmarked by manual toil.

The man leads you to the chair and pushes on your shoulders so that you will sit. He ties the trailing end of your binds to the tent pole. "Wouldn't want you to get any ideas." He says, popping his mouth, narrowing his bug-eyes. "I'll get that tea shall I?"

He leaves through the tent flap and you resume your search. All the while, Abby's betrayal and the building rage and hurt--most of it self-directed for falling for her ruse--make it difficult to concentrate. Your search is fruitless and by the time he comes back you've only been pushed further into despair and desperation.

"Unfortunately, we've just run out of milk so you'll have to take it black." He says, sweeping the map off the stool and placing two ceramic cups and a pitcher of tea in their place. "But Sutherland tea tastes good even without a sweetener." He also has another chair with him, which he places across from you. He pours the tea into each cup--then mutters a word in the imitated tongue that releases a beam of white flame from his finger into the liquid, causing it to steam instantly. "Drink it while it's hot." He says, smiling and taking a sip himself. He leans back in his chair and your eyes move to the scabbard at his waist--wooden, ornate designs etched into the smooth wood--the weapon of a Lord.

>Take a drink, be calm and discuss your situation
>Refuse to drink and demand to be released
>Act like you're going to drink then splash the hot tea in his face

>>2086566
>Take a drink, be calm and discuss your situation

>>2086566
>>Take a drink, be calm and discuss your situation

>>2086566
>Take a drink, be calm and discuss your situation

>trusting a void touched women

We asked for this really.

>>2086596
>tfw the Parastans stab her in the back
How ironic

>>2086566
>Take a drink, be calm and discuss your situation
I mean hey, maybe we can go from being one kind of sellsword to being another. Isn't too bad a trade off.
Shame Abbey is likely to die though.

Really enjoying this quest so far, would recommend OP getting a Twitter so we can know when threads start up.

>>2086697
Unfortunately, I'm workposting right now so the updates are inconsistent and slow (which is why I try to write longer updates to compensate) I'll try to run some full sessions this coming thanksgiving break.

>>2086638
We're not that lucky, she'll make it out

>>2086572
>>2086585
>>2086587
>>2086638

You still your shaking frame and bring the cup to your lips. It's not bad. Almost as good as the brew in the estate which Lady Halterket used make herself. You're pretty sure she would spike it with something because you always felt incredibly...aroused after drinking it. Thankfully this concoction doesn't have such stimulants and is a little bitter besides.

"What--ahem, what exactly is going to happen next?" You try and keep your voice steady but you're pretty sure it came out two octaves higher than intended

"Mm. Delicious." He says popping his mouth again. He stares at you. Then he pulls his chair around to sit beside you and he lays his hand softly on your knee. "Do you know what one learns after years and years of killing Volani scum?" He asks, drawing his hand slowly up your thigh. You try and squirm away. He doesn't let you. "You learn about men. About their hearts and minds. What drives them, what cripples them, what...excites them." His hand sweeps over to the inner thigh, inching closer to your groin. "A man is never more clear, his mind never more transparent than in the moment of final action. And if you see it long enough, you can read it--just from a look, or a touch." His hand moves up closes around your belt releases the buckle but then retracts. He gives your thigh a quick squeeze and draws back. You breathe again.

"How do you like the tea?"

"Fine. Not bad." Still, you try and maintain the facade, but this man has shaken you. You've heard some stories about men in the front that are changed by the things they see. Jokes. About Lords with certain...predilections. Told with all the humor and horror of a spook story. But the man before you is no ghost.

"Have you had Sutherland brew before?"

"No. No look--you can just let me go and I can work for you. How about that? I'm a sellsword anyway, it'd be no different than working for someone else. Why not you?"

The man laughs and nods his head. "And what will you do for me?" The way he says this sends sweat running down your back.

"Abby wasn't lying. I can use a spear, I have training. I can fight. I recently learned to touch my Ra. I can--"

He holds up his hand to silence you and stands up. Quickly, almost casually, he slips off his belt and throwing this and the scabbard to the ground, he moves closer to you and leans into your face. Close enough to feel his hot breath on your cheek.

"And how do I know you're not going to gut me the moment I hand you a sharp object?" He whispers. He pushes a finger through your hair. "Mm. No, I think I'll stick with the original plan." He strips out of his trousers and throws them on the ground. You keep your gaze pointed up, at the squares of sunlight coming down from the flaps.

"You're making a mistake." You say.

"Stand up and face the pole." His voice is stern now and promises violence.

>Do as he says
>Remain seated; try to reason with him
>Pretend to obey then smash the pitcher on his face

Well, this has begun to turn into a shit-show. Time to nope the fuck out.

>Pretend to obey then smash the pitcher on his face

>>2087197

>>2087197
>Pretend to obey then smash the pitcher on his face

>>2087197
>>Pretend to obey then smash the pitcher on his face

>>2087197
>>Pretend to obey then smash the pitcher on his face

Smash that ho

>>2087197
holy shit we're getting raped

>smash the pitcher in his face

>>2087197
>Smash the pitcher in his face.
>Grab the sword on the belt he's not wearing.
>Gut the rapist.

I don't care which way you swing, but this is NOT OKAY!

>>2087885
Not raping the rapest
To show him whos alpha

>>2087244
>>2087298
>>2087339
>>2087474
>>2087821
>>2087885

Alea iacta est. Roll 1d20 please.

Rolled 9 (1d20)

>>2087974

Rolled 10 (1d20)

>>2087974

Rolled 10 (1d20)

>>2087974

>>2087987
>>2087993
>>2087995
Guse we fuck boi now
Unless the magic

>10+5 [+3 Skilled Martial Artist, +2 Element of Surprise] = 15
>15 vs DC 14: Success!

You close your eyes and take a deep breath. It's times like these that you thank the Great Wheel for crossing your path with the good Captain's. His words come to you now both comfortable and convenient: "The beginning of the world is breath. With breath you fight, for breath you die. It is breath you steal when the final blow is dealt and it is breath you lose with your life. Control your breath and the battle is already won." So you breathe as he taught you now, through the nostrils and to the forehead and down and down into your feet.

"Get up." He says. "Face the pole." You do not look him yet, nor open your eyes. In and out. You stand up. "That's it. To the pole now." He says. You can feel him move forward to grab you--a change in the air, your eyes flash open and your hands are already reaching for the pitcher of tea. You throttle him with it, an upward swing which bends the thin metal inward on contact with his skull. A gasp. A dull thud. He falls to the ground, momentarily stunned, clutching his bleeding mouth but still alive and still conscious.

"Motherfucker." He groans. You try and go for his scabbard but it's too far--your bonds, still rooted to the tent pole, limit your reach.

>Try take the bastard out with the chair and stool
>Attempt to free yourself by smashing one of the ceramic cups and using it as a knife
>Keep trying for the sword, use the chair to reach for it

>>2088054
Can we strangle him with the rope we are tied with?

Is there enough slack?

>>2088068
There is, but only if he's right next to you. As it is, he's too far.

>>2088072
What about our legs? Can we pull him close then strangle or use our legs to do so?

>>2088073
You're close enough to kick him, but there is not enough slack to bend down all the way to grab him.

>>2088054
>Keep trying for the sword, use the chair to reach for it
>>2088093
Scratch this.

>>2088054
>>Try take the bastard out with the chair and stool

>>2088110
Why I chose to not do that is, we are tied up and can't hit him hard enough to kill with like WWE wrestlers. If he rolls out range we will be fucked (in more ways than intended) and our rapist will go for the sword.

Making a shiv may take to long and we may not get a good edge on it due to how it breaks (what if its unbreakable fine china or something).

By going for the sword we could deny him it, and even if we don't really get the sword in time, we bring it closer to us while holding the chair, and we could hit him with the chair if he tries to contest the sword with us.

>>2088054
>>Keep trying for the sword, use the chair to reach for it

>>2088122
Don't need to kill him, just wanted to leave him groggy and disabled to buy more time for lethal means.

>>2088163
>not killing him and raping the corpse in front of the bandits to establish dominance

Its like you don't want to turn this into a bandit rape quest.

File: Parastan Lord Blade.jpg (102 KB, 1300x620)

102 KB JPG

>>2088099
>>2088129

You fold the chair straight and use it to knock the sword over to you. It works! The sword slides to your feet. You unsheathe it immediately--a beauty of Parastan smithship, slightly curved, with an edge thinner than a hair's width, sharper than glass. You draw the blade against the rope cutting it in a single stroke.

The old man is up, half his face and clothes are dark with tea and blood. He spits on the ground, half-naked, groin just barely hidden by his shirt.

He holds up his finger to the tent ceiling and shouts a word in the imitated tongue. A beam of white fire shoots out, ripping through the cloth into the sky. You can hear the commotion outside, the remaining men springing into action. You point the blade at him.

"I don't want to hurt you." He says, pointing his index finger at you. "A cripple won't sell."

>Throw the stool at him as a distraction, then strike him
>Slice an opening into the side of the tent and run
>Try and use the shield spell--maybe it will work against his beam attack

>Whatever the choice, roll 1d20

>>2088054
>Try take the bastard out with the chair and stool

I say we strike while we have the chance

>>2088235
>Throw the stool at him as a distraction, then strike him

Rolled 14 (1d20)

>>2088235
>>Throw the stool at him as a distraction, then strike him

Rolled 10 (1d20)

>>2088235
against his beam attack

...>>2088236
>>2088250
you and your stools, whatever

>>Throw the stool at him as a distraction, then strike him

>>2088235
dice+1d20
>Throw the stool at him as a distraction, then strike him

>>2088261
type that in the options field, not the comment field

Rolled 8 (1d20)

>>2088235
>>Throw the stool at him as a distraction, then strike him

he should have taken the deal

>>2088343
I would have given him a reach around if he let us top.

>>2088252
>>2088257
>>2088343

>14+3 [+3 Skilled Martial Artist] = 17
>17 vs DC 15: Success!

The air holds, silent and tense for a second. Your eyes fly to the stool. His eyes follow. Your grab the stool. He fires. His bug eyes widening in slow motion like the borders of a puddle in the rain. The beam of fire rips through the seat of the stool and grazes your shoulder, singing your shirt but going no further. He knocks the stool away.

And then you're already on him. Your sword is already coming down on his outstretched arm. Blood spatters, touching your face and coloring your shirt in an arc. His forearm splits apart, a magnificent, clean cut. The hand, still arrested in it's pointed posture, now points at nothing and lies severed on the floor. He screams, holds the spurting stump, falls to his knees.

An arrow zips through the tent wall, almost hitting your side. One of the bandits comes rushing in through the tent flap, head low, spear couched into his armpit.

>It's time to go, cut through the tent wall and run
>They all die today. No mercy. Engage the spearmen
>Dodge the attack and try to talk them down

>Whatever you choose, roll 1d20
>You have 5/10 Ra remaining

Rolled 2 (1d20)

>>2088378
>They all die today. No mercy. Engage the spearmen

Rolled 10 (1d20)

>>2088378
>They all die today. No mercy. Engage the spearmen

>>2088385
>>2088389
Oh man these are some bad rolls, I hope if someone else goes with this we get those legendary clutch 20s.

>>2088395
I think we get a plus 3 in combat and we have a special attack with the spear... but we don't have a spear... yet.

Rolled 9 (1d20)

>>2088378
If the tent isn't burning down yet from the missed magic beam, sure, fuck 'em all up.

>>They all die today. No mercy. Engage the spearmen

>>2088378
>>They all die today. No mercy. Engage the spearmen

>>2088403
roll dice

>>2088409
There really a point? Dice rules are best of 3 and 3 rolls have already been made.

Rolled 11 (1d20)

>>2088378
>It's time to go, cut through the tent wall and run

>>2088414
Was that the rule for this quest?

If thats the case only 3 rolls are permitted or you only count the first 3 rolls. The other quest I'm in does best 3 out of 5, but mainly depending on how many players are present.

Couldn't hurt to roll anyways. Good practice.

>>2088435
Well so.e quest say any crits rolled outside of 3 count
So theres that
But also i like roling for fun

>>2088441
>Well so.e quest say
Wut?
This quest or another one? Not all qms use the same rules its up to qm in the end.

Anyways, I was wondering if we got the shield bonus back here >>2077402
if our energy shield would count with that or if it would fall under something else like magic or something.

>>2088385
>>2088389
>>2088398

>10+3 [+3 Skilled Martial Artist, -2 Reach Disadvantage] = 11
>11 vs DC 12: Failure

You try and side-step his charge, using your sword as a lever to push the spear away from your body. He stops himself before he brushes past you and exposes his back. He's smarter than you gave him credit for--he's keeping his distance and making exploratory jabs with the spear. You can't get close enough for your sword to strike him.

Then another arrow rips through the tent, and another. They're coming from two different sides, you can see the shadows of their masters outlined on the white walls. One near the entrance, one behind you. Their both busy reloading.

This momentary distraction is all the spearmen needs. He steps forward and jabs you in the stomach. You manage to skirt behind the tent pole in time, but the spear grazes your side. You clutch your abdomen, feeling wetness over your hand, the smell of iron. The wound is not deep, but your shirt has torn and the skin is open and the blood is flowing freely.

The old man is gone, a trail of his blood leads outward, through the tent flaps. His hand is still on the ground.

>You have 4/10 Ra remaining

>Use Rapid Strike to take out the Spearman (-2 Ra, take the highest roll among 6 d20s)
>Attempt to forgo an attack to get within striking range
>Try to cut down one of the crossbowmen outside

>Whatever you choose, roll 1d20

Rolled 11 (1d20)

>>2088522
>Use Rapid Strike to take out the Spearman (-2 Ra, take the highest roll among 6 d20s)

>>2088435
The rule is best of 3 d20s, with 1's overriding previous rolls, and 20's overriding 1s. No rolls beyond the first 3 will count (except for certain abilities)

>>2088459
Yes, the energy shield, if you use it like a shield, would count

>>2088522
>Use Rapid Strike to take out the Spearman (-2 Ra, take the highest roll among 6 d20s)

Rolled 16 (1d20)

>>2088522
oh right. forgot.

Rolled 17 (1d20)

>>2088522
>Use Rapid Strike to take out the Spearman (-2 Ra, take the highest roll among 6 d20s)

Lets go for it eh.

Rolled 12 (1d20)

>>2088522
>>Use Rapid Strike to take out the Spearman (-2 Ra, take the highest roll among 6 d20s)

>>2088522
>>Try to cut down one of the crossbowmen outside

how much Ra does it take to raise our shield?

>>2088625
Just 1. But the more you put into it, the harder it becomes. Later on, if you learn modifiers you can change its properties using Ra.

I just realized I messed something up. Ra is not HP, it's only used for spells and maneuvers, so you still have 5/10 Ra. Instead of HP we'll be using a minor/major wound system.

>You currently have a minor wound (superficial abdominal wound)

Rolled 9 (1d20)

>>2088522
>Use Rapid Strike to take out the Spearman (-2 Ra, take the highest roll among 6 d20s)

I'm going to sleep.

We'll probably go with this >>2088575

I'm going to rethink the Rapid Strike maneuver, since waiting for 6 rolls is silly. Maybe taking two actions in one turn instead of one.

Rolled 19, 4 = 23 (2d20)

>>2088705
we CAN roll more than once if you allow.

Rolled 12 (1d20)

>>2088522
forgot to roll

Rolled 10, 5, 17, 6, 16, 12 = 66 (6d20)

>>2088705
or we can all roll 6d20's like so

Rolled 5, 6, 5, 12, 14, 20 = 62 (6d20)

>>2088522
>Use Rapid Strike to take out the Spearman (-2 Ra, take the highest roll among 6 d20s)

>>2088527
>>2088543
>>2088567
>>2088575
>>2088586
>>2088682

>17+0 [+3 Skilled Martial Artist, -2 Reach Disadvantage, -1 Minor Wound] = 17
>17 vs DC 12: Success!

The crossbowmen are still reloading, this is your chance--your only chance, because the longer the fight goes the more you bleed out and the slower you get. The arrows will start hitting you then, and then you'll be dead.

You take a deep breath, swelling your stomach with air. You see the spearmen start to flank around toward the entrance, cutting off the obvious escape and bring the spear to bear again. Once chance, you tell yourself. You exhale in one quick burst and charge. The spear comes toward your chest, you swing sideward, putting all your weight to knock the spear to the ground. It works! You quicken your feet, turning and dragging the blade upward across the shaft. The spearman tries to step back, to parry with the spear, to duck--but it's too late. The sword goes up from his hands to his chin, you pull the blade across, feel it effortlessly glide through the skin, the bone, the teeth, the nose, the forehead.

His face is gone. With a last mute look of confusion, he grabs the space where his face used to be. Then he falls forward, never to rise again. You wipe his blood from your eyes and lower the blade. An arrow sails toward your head, you duck and roll through the entrance. To your right: the bowman who just shot at you, frantically reloading his weapon; ahead: the trail of the old man's blood toward one of the other tents; behind: the footsteps of the second bowman, running to flank you.

>Cut down the crossbowman while he reloads
>Bolt toward the woods, the trees will provide cover
>Follow the blood trail to the old man

>Status:
>You have 3/10 Ra remaining
>You have sustained a minor wound (Superficial abdominal gash), You are bleeding, You are fresh

>>2089278
>Follow the blood trail to the old man
Pick up the spear
Time to become the impala

>>2089285
this

>>2089285
This, chances are he got band aids which we can borrow

>>2088722
Did not know this. But after sleeping on it, I've come up with this:

>Rapid Strike: -2 Ra, take two attack actions instead of one (e.g deliver two wounds, close reach and strike, wound two different people etc.)

We'll stick with the best of 3 as much as possible otherwise.

Speaking of which, roll 1d20 please

>>2089285
>>2089293
>>2089295

Rolled 8 (1d20)

>>2089313

Rolled 20 (1d20)

>>2089313

>>2089339
Great roll

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>>2089339

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>>2089313
good quest writing so far.
>>2089339
dis ghun be gud!

>>2089339

>Critical Success!

You duck back into the tent and grab the spear. The bowman loads a fresh bolt and begins pulling the string back. You dart outside keeping your head low, juking left and right to avoid the arrows. They fly past your head and by your torso embedding themselves into the dirt ahead of you. You follow the trail of blood and slip inside the tent.

It's smaller than the other, darker. There's a stack of bedrolls against one wall and a small chest against another where the old man is crouched, his buttocks naked and visible, his hand pouring a white powder on his stump and his breath short and heavy. He hears you. He faces you. The spear is already in the air. He grabs it--the shaft--and coughs blood and wheezes. The speartip is inside his chest. He pulls it out, gasping in pain as the metallic shard slips out of his lungs.

"You should've taken the deal." You say, walking to him.

"N̹͖̫͙̭͚͇̻̏ͦͫ̀̍͊̚͟a̧̡̖̣͔̻̰͊̆r̢̳̝̹̺ͯ̿̄̾̓͒̆h̜͙͍͙̻͕̘̞͛̄̽̈́͆ȗ̮̜d̥̟͓̻̻̬͐͠m̨͉̘̋̋̑̾ͣ̈́̄̇̀." He mutters. You jump to the side, expecting a blow. Nothing. The beam hits the stack of bedrolls and they ignite instantly, the fire spreads to the walls and smoke starts filling the small tent, suffocating you. The old man collapses backward on to the chest. You cut through the nearest wall and jump out and fall down a small hill. Cool waters surround you--you're in the stream. You get to your feet immediately, expecting arrows to hit you any second. None come. You can see flame swallow the tent, then the main pole collapse then the walls fall inward and burn.

You climb around the hill using the trees as cover. The bowmen are gone. The old man is dead, likely nothing more than an ashen corpse. As the adrenaline fades the pain of your wound resurfaces and you feel faint. Your shirt is soaked with blood, some of it your own, some of it still fresh and flowing.

But you won.

Order the following in priority (add anything you think is missing):

>Dress your wound
>Loot the bodies and the camp
>Catch up to Abby before the dark-skinned Parastan does
>Put out the fire and to make sure the old man is really dead
>Rest and recuperate

>Status:
>You have 3/10 Ra remaining
>You have sustained minor wounds (Superficial abdominal gash, Moderate blood loss), You are bleeding, You are winded

>You gain 2 EXP for resolving this encounter (1 for surviving, 1 for killing the bandit leader)
>You gain 0 EXP for roleplaying/creativity (you get this for write-ins and for roleplaying beyond just choosing a vote)
>You have 4 EXP

>>2089445
>Put out the fire and to make sure the old man is really dead
>Loot the bodies and the camp
>Dress your wound
>Catch up to Abby before the dark-skinned Parastan does

>>2089445
Dress our wounds, cut off the bandits heads, take any obvious trophies or treasurer and present the items to the nearest merchant lord.

>>2089470
This. There is no time for rest when vengeance must be had.

>>2089445
>>2089470
>>2089470
second

>>2089445
>Dress your wound 1
>Loot the bodies and the camp 4
>Catch up to Abby before the dark-skinned Parastan does 2
>Put out the fire and to make sure the old man is really dead 3
>Rest and recuperate 5

Vendetta!

File: Parastan Lord Chain Shirt.jpg (67 KB, 400x497)

67 KB JPG

>>2089470
>>2089503
>>2089504

You grasp your side, squeezing the shut the wound so the blood will coagulate. You need to put out the fire first. Te powder the old man was using, ground Shifan teeth, should help stop the bleeding--if it's still intact.

You head toward the campfire in the center of the encampment and grab a large stockpot, still half-filled with stew. You dump it's contents on the fire, stifling some of the flames and then head for the stream. Two trips are all it takes. The tent is completely destroyed, the cloth is flat and fire-eaten and the pole has cracked in half and warped but the fire is extinguished.

You find the body of the old man, still on the chest--which seemed to have spared it damage. His skin is curdled and black, his face is unrecognizable, the two bug-eyes now puddles of pus and the round lips turned to ash. Voidmeat now. You throw him aside and pop the chest open.

Inside are an assortment of unlabeled bottles. You'd guess liquor by their smell. There's bottle of powder, knocked over, half of it's contents spilled out onto to the bottom of the chest. You grab a handful, shut your eyes, squeeze your jaw and pat your wound with it. You scream and gasp and cry. You bite down your scarf and think of Lady Halterket's soft body against yours and find some measure of comfort as the pain slowly fades.

The bleeding has stopped. You sit back and catch your breath, thinking of how you're going to mutilate Abby once you find her. You put as much of the powder as you can back in the bottle, then cap it. It's too big for your trouser's pocket which--looking down now you realize is still loose, the belt and button undone. You give the corpse of the old man several solid kicks, stopping only for fear of opening your wound again.

You head for the other tents, leaving the corpses alone. It's bad luck to disturb what has gone to the void--and you're not corpsestealer--but everything else is up-for-grabs. The third tent is a storeroom and contains some vittles: hardtack, dried meat, potatoes and a barrel of good sea salt--a true prize, likely stolen, and quite likely to fetch a decent sum at the market.

You gather all the items to the center of the camp, the armor pieces, the map, your pack and spear, the scabbard for the sword, the barrel of salt, the chest. The armor pieces are mostly useless, army issue garbage that's either too large or too small or dented or poorly made. The chain shirt, of course, is the exception. Like the blade, it's a work of a Parastan mastersmith, made with care and skill, each circle of Parastan steel carefully fashioned and set for maximum protection.

The coif-piece is missing but the shirt is a fine fit. There's just one problem: the shirt and the blade are signifiers of Lordship, and anyone who sees them will treat you accordingly--but without the titles to back you you'd be committing high treason. If caught, at least in Parasta, you would be executed by piking.

1/2

>>2089709
On the other hand, you can just sell them--you're certain the Lord's estate will pay an earnest emil to retrieve the marks of their nobility. As long as you don't actually wear them you won't be committing a crime, but it seems a shame to just carry them and not put them to use. There's no time to ponder things either. You have to catch up to Abby before the dark-skinned bandit and his men kill her. You won't let them take that satisfaction away from you. You examine the map--you can see several towns labeled beyond the Sukhar Wall, but illterate as you are, you cannot make out which one is Be-Gata, the town the old man mentioned.

Judging by the direction Abby went, you'd guess she was heading back for the main road. The bandits would only be tracking her, so they'd keep their distance. You can meet her at the entrance of the wall, cutting through the forest instead of back toward the road. It's a shorter path, but you'd have to spend the night in the forest, alone, with bowmen still wandering around somewhere within and the Prowlers and the Nozil that prey on lonely travelers. Maybe it would be better to just go on the road then and catch up to her, though if the bandits see you--and they will on the road-- they'll know what's happened. At that point, they'll either strike immediately or return to camp and you'll lose whatever spoils you've earned here.

Maybe then...it would be better to just forget about Abby. Head for Sutherland, hire some men to come back and take these goods. But that means letting the betrayal slide, letting it go unanswered. Even as your sense of reason tells you this is the smartest choice, your heart refuses to be denied its satisfaction.

>Equip the armor and sword
>Leave the armor and sword

>Meet up with Abby at the Sukhar Wall
>Meet Abby on the road
>Forget about Abby, there's coin to be made

>Status:
>You have 3/10 Ra remaining
>You have sustained minor wounds (Superficial abdominal gash), You are winded

>Loot:
>Parastan Lord's Chain Shirt: If worn, once per battle, negate a major or mortal wound (will fetch a few hundred emil if sold)
>Parastan Lord's Blade: A blade of the highest quality and craftsmanship and a signifier of Lordship (will fetch a few hundred emil if sold)
>Barrel of Fine Sea Salt: Worth at least 100 emil on the market, but probably stolen
>Armor Pieces
>Vittles: At least a months' food here, for one person
>Bottle of Shiman Teeth Powder: Stops bleeding and (with some rest) will heal most minor wounds
>Chest of Unlabeled Bottles: Probably just liquor in the bottles, but could be worth something

>>2089714
>Equip the armor and sword
If anyone comes closer to inspect they will be gutted, take the vittles and Shiman Teeth Powder if we can.

>Meet up with Abby at the Sukhar Wall
A night in the forest shouldn't be too hard.

>>2089714
>>Equip the armor and sword
Wear the mail beneath long tunics or something if we're out journeying.

>>Meet up with Abby at the Sukhar Wall

>>2089748
>>2089765
agreed.

>>2089748
>>2089765
>>2089793

I really do think we should sell the armor and sword as soon as possible. And buy stuff for ourselves.

>>2089748
>>2089765
>>2089793

The sun climbs to the other side of the great dome. Soon it will descend and the imitation of the Great Void will take its place. Time slips; a decision has to be made. And really, the decision is clear: forget Abby and forget your vendetta but her betrayal plays over and over in your mind. The indifference in her eyes, that she wouldn't even look at you, that you were only a transaction since the beginning. Because of her, you were almost violated. The thought sends disgust and cold sweat running down your spine. No. You can't let this go. She needs to be hurt.

You place some of the food and the bottle of Shiman Teeth powder in your bag. You undress and put on the chain shirt, and over it, you wear your tunic. It's a little hot and a tight fit and anyone looking closely will be able to see the pattern of the links beneath the shirt, but for now, it will do. You discard the scabbard and wrap the naked blade with some cloth and tie it to your belt. If anyone does get inquisitive, you'll just have to gut them.

The rest of the goods are left in the camp and after a quick check of the map you orient yourself toward the Wall and start walking. Hours pass in only the sound of nature and wildlife. The temperature drops as the sun sinks below the horizon. No sign of the bowmen, no sign of anyone--but then you're no huntsman or tracker. Even if there were tracks you doubt you'd be able to tell. No one is shooting arrows at you at any rate. That's something.

Eventually, you come to a wide, flowing river. You don't remember seeing this on the map and taking it out and double-checking, you confirm it's absence. It's possible the map was made in a different season--in winter or autumn. It's spring now and during the spring, the ice up in the Kaduk mountains thaw and melt and the rivers which had dried up in the winter begin to flow again. The river is deep and wide, and while the flow is not strong enough to pose any serious trouble, your swimming skills leave much to be desired. There were no bodies of water near Lady Halterket's estate. It was never a priority.

You can try following the river downstream, there might be a shallow where you can cross, or rocks or even a bridge, but you'll have to make up for the detour in the morning. And it's not certain that you'll even find a place to cross before nighttime. Or you can brave the river. The waters are not too cold this time of year, you should be fine.

>Swim across the river
>Head downstream

>Whatever you choose roll 1d20

>Status:
>You have 3/10 Ra remaining
>You have sustained minor wounds (Superficial abdominal gash-Treated, needs rest)

Rolled 14 (1d20)

>>2090030
>>Head downstream

Rolled 5 (1d20)

>>2090030
>>Head downstream

Rolled 11 (1d20)

>>2090030
>>Head downstream

Rolled 3 (1d20)

>>2090030
scared of getting wet guize?

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>>2090213
>>2090238
>>2090376

>14 vs DC 14: Success!

You decide not to risk it. To have come all this way and then drown in a river would be embarrassing. And there's no telling what might be in the water, leechweed, tanglefish, maybe even the hundred-limbed Nabeisu. So, instead, you follow the river downstream, watching the trees and the sunset behind them and the sky glowing red and orange and finally black.

At last, the river thins and an outcropping of rocks provides a makeshift bridge. You cross without difficulty and continue onward. When you can barely see your feet in front of you you decide to hunker down for the night and build a small fire.

You take out your prayer beads and begin thumbing through them. As long as the fire burns you should be OK, Voidcreatures despise light and your prayer beads act as an additional ward. But there are Prowlers in these woods--or so they say--and Prowlers are naturally drawn to the flame.

You can feel your eyes start to close. The day's toll requires rest but you force yourself to stay awake. You can't sleep, if the fire goes out or if the Prowler's come you need to be ready. Hours pass and you're not exactly sure when it happens, but at some point, you slip into a deep sleep.

You are awoken by a soft pressure against your cheek--something wet and smooth. You bolt awake and almost scream at the sight of it. The round slimy snout of the Kabosaur greets you with a cheerful squeak. You try and back away, but it's tail, wrapped affectionately around your leg, trips you as you try to stand. It squeaks again and licks your face with its thick, rope-like tongue.

You wipe away the drool and rub your eyes. It's wearing a saddle--meaning its a ridingsaur--but looking around you find no sign of a rider. You pat the creature's snout, careful to avoid the cylindrical mouthhole, where rows and rows of small, pointy teeth await flesh. It's tongue slips out again and explores your hand and then tastes the air. Once it releases your leg you stand up and examine your things. Your food is littered all around you, taken straight from your bag--likely the Kabosaur's handiwork. The hardtack was left alone but the jerky is all gone.

"Did you at least enjoy it?" You ask the animal. It opens it's mouthhole revealing the circular rings of conical teeth and squeaks merrily. You sigh. "Where is your master, I wonder?" Very strange to see a ridingsaur without its master, but then, if he was riding alone in the dark he could've gotten attacked. Fleeing bandits or Voidcreatures or Prowlers. You check the saddlebags--food, a tent and a bedroll and also a set of scrolls. Before you can take anything out the Kabosaur lifts its head into the air and stick its tongue straight up like a Volani antenna receiving a transmission.

Then it turns and bolts into the forest.

>Follow it
>Forget it, it's going the opposite way

>Status:
>You have 10/10 Ra remaining
>You are healthy

>>2090632
>>Follow it
Might as well get supplies, a tent and a mount.
Besides, all of that will be useful if we need to track down a certain cunt to acquire some good old fashioned revenge.

>>2090632
>Follow it

Demand jerky reparations.

>>2090632
>>Follow it
Someone may have asked this OP. But, is there anyway to were the chainmail and people not see it?

>>2090632
>14 vs DC 14: Success!
Jeezus. Imagine if that roll was for swimming— most likely with a negative modifier. That's cutting it close.

>>Follow it
Got a lotta assumptions here. I reckon it sniffed out some blood, or it's called by its pack. Either way, there's some action going on. Could be significant with small odds of the traitor bitch being involved.

>>2090680
Sure, you can just wear it with some thick clothing. That's actually what you're doing now (at least partially) it's just that your tunic is a little too thin to hide it all the way.

>>2090632
>>Follow it

>>2090754
figure I would ask. Thank you

>>2090632
>Follow it

>>2090663
>>2090669
>>2090680
>>2090684
>>2090755

You may as well follow it. Any lost time can easily be made up with a quick ride back and moreover, you're curious as to where it's going. You remember once when you were a child, the Captain took you to see a Parastan cavalry division riding in formation in a mock battle. Twenty Kabosaurs led by a fully grown Yakosaur, the size of a house. It was magnificent. And you remember asking the Captain how the Kabos could march in such perfect harmony when they did not have eyes.

"See the tongues?" He asked you, drawing you close. "See how they taste the air?" His eyes were dancing. "That's how they see. There is a world of scent and smell that's invisible to us, but clear as sunlight to them. Maybe to them, we're the ones that are blind." And you remember being amazed, in part by the Kabos but more by the Captain's knowledge and wisdom. You realize you miss the old bastard and laugh. It hasn't even three days.

The Kabo saunters through the forest at a steady pace and you follow it until it reaches a small cliff, overlooking a portion of the river you had crossed before. Below, just on the bank of the river, leaning against a tree, you can see the body of a fair-skinned young woman, dead or maybe unconscious and dressed in fancy Gizrathi grab--all silkweave and glass. A patch of blood grows outward from her shoulder and ruins the otherwise elegant look. A bolt sticks out of the offending wound. Her hands hold a lit candle, the wax still fresh.

About her are more bodies, some, partly in the river. Two men and three women. The men you recognize by their clothes--the same bowmen from the bandit camp. The women are dressed in Gizrathi clothing. All 5 of the bodies have been drained of their blood so that their skin sticks to their bones and they appear horribly emaciated.

The Kabo squeaks and tastes the air again, then, using its hooked claws to grab the stone, it leaps down from rock to rock until it reaches the bottom. You watch it approach the young woman and lick her face and she rouses and touches the creature's mouth and whispers in its ear words you can't make out. Suddenly she cries out. "Who goes there?" Her voice weak and faint.

You start to pace. Should you go down there and help her? The bodies look like they were attacked by Prowlers, they could still be around using her as bait. But the ridingsaur is there and you can't see anything moving in the forest.

"Please help me, whoever you are." She says, gasping for words. "Please, I have no Ra to heal myself and I've lost a lot of blood. Please. Please..." Her voice trails off.

>Climb down and help her
>Leave her to die, but grab the Kabo

>>2091072
>Climb down and help her
Can't have her die before we get our vengeance

>>2091072
>Climb down and help her
take the "slow" way down, and watch for ambushes.

>>2091072
>>Leave her to die, but grab the Kabo

>>2091072
>Climb down and help her

>>2091072
>Leave her to die, but grab the Kabo
Bitch you left us to die

>>2091072
>>Climb down and help her

>>2091072
>>Climb down and help her

>>2091072
>Climb down and help her
I’m a bit confused, is the woman Abby?

>>2091133
shouldnt be

>>2091133
but mybe i hope not

>>2091086
>>2091088
>>2091101

You follow the cliffside until it starts to slope downward toward the river, all the while keeping your eyes open for the characteristic buzzing of the Prowler. Nothing. Just the sound of the river and the birds in the trees. You approach the young woman and stop when you see her face. It's Abby! Your hand moves automatically to your sword, then stops. It's...not Abby, but they look similar--close enough to be siblings.

Her eyes flicker and she mumbles something incoherent.

"It's alright." You say, taking out the bottle of Shiman Teeth powder. "This is gonna hurt little--a lot actually." You grab her shoulder and the bolt sticking out and she whimpers like a puppy. Then, taking a deep breath, you pull it out in one swift motion. She gasps and bangs her against the tree trunk in pure agony. Blood bubbles out of the wound. You pour a handful of the powder into your palm and press it against the hole. Now she screams. Over and over. You keep your hand pressed, letting the powder collect and crystalize, closing the wound. Only once the bleeding has completely stopped do you release her.

"Water." She whispers. "Water."

You slip your waterskin to her mouth and tilt her head to drink. It's uncanny how much she looks like Abby--the same plum-like cheeks and puffed lips, the same small nose. But the eyes are different, more square, softer. She sputters as the water goes down, drinking too greedily. "Nice and slow, now. You're alright." You say.

"Thank you." She says. She tries to get up, but winces and falls down. You grab her before she hurts herself. "I have to go." She says. "Taari. Taari, come to me." Her Kabo, which had been drinking from the river walks up to her and licks her again.

"I don't think you're in any condition to be riding." You say, closing the cap on your now half-empty bottle of Shiman powder. "What happened here? Who are you?"

She coughs and asks for water again. You give it to her. "I am Ketiaa Tatakhay." She says. Tatakhay. She's bloodrelated to Abenwen. You grit your teeth.

"What happened here?"

She is silent for a long moment and you're about to ask the question again when she speaks, "We were resting for the night when we were attacked. Those men (she points toward the river) wanted our ridingsaurs, but we were able to defeat them. The commotion attracted a strange horde of insects." She shudders and starts to cry. "If I hadn't used so much of my Ra against the bandits...It's my fault. It's my fault. We should have never come here. Into this cursed land." Her chest heaves with sobs.

>Comfort her, wait for her calm down
>You have no sympathy for blood relations of that traitor, ask her about Abenwen
>Rid her of her survivor's guilt by slitting her throat

>>2091170
>>Comfort her, wait for her calm down
we can drop the bomb about her abenwen latter

>>2091170
>>You have no sympathy for blood relations of that traitor, ask her about Abenwen

>>2091170
>Comfort her, wait for her calm down

>>2091170
>>Comfort her, wait for her calm down

>>2091189
Also look for the Spell Gun, if it is there lucky us, if it isn't then one of them is still in hiding

>>2091170
>>You have no sympathy for blood relations of that traitor, ask her about Abenwen

>>2091170
>>Comfort her, wait for her calm down

>>2091184
hopefully, but also it amuses me where this could go

>>2091217
I support this

>>2091184
>>2091189
>>2091202
>>2091229

You can't help but feel some sympathy for her. She may be bloodrelated to that bitch, but right now she just looks like a scared little girl--and you've always had something of a soft-spot for damsels in distress. You offer her some of your hardtack and a handkerchief to wipe her face with and she takes both with great gratitude. You wait until she's calm enough to talk again.

"You're from Gizrathi." You say, sitting down on the grass. She nods.

"I suppose it's obvious."

"Yeah, your clothes and the accent and the (you gesture to your face) skin."

"Yes, I'm from Madi." She says, then seeing your reaction she adds "You know it?"

"No. But I've heard of it."

"Oh. I came here to look for someone--my sister. She's...very sick. Our husband is quite worried about her and...I guess am too."

"She's--you're...you share a husband?"

She nods again. "I suppose the customs are a bit different here. Our husband is Nefer Kipiru Nwa En Ra, Ra-master of the Southern Heliopolis. As a living god, descendent of the Sages, he naturally takes many wives. So that his progeny is plentiful and strong."

So the rumors and stories really are true. And she wasn't lying, Abby is royalty, pure-by-touch, a member of a royal harem.

"I thought distant wives weren't allowed to leave Gizrathi?" You say, helping her up as she tries to rise. Her brows turn up with surprise, then she frowns.

"I am not a distant wife." She says, coldly. "And you are wrong. No one is held down--but no one ever leaves; why would they? The wives live in comfort beyond the imagining of the commonblood, their every whim and desire fulfilled in an instant. Not to mention the honor and pleasure of laying with the living god." You help her walk toward the corpses of her fallen companions. She stares at their hideous bodies and is silent.

"And this sister you're looking for? She a close wife too?"

She scoffs. "No." And her voice is colder still. "She is...an exception." She turns to you. "Will--will you help me bury them?"

>You don't have time for this, Abby will slip past the Wall soon; trick the girl into helping you
>Help her bury her friends and interrogate her further (also include a question to ask)

>>2091304
>Help her bury her friends and interrogate her further (also include a question to ask)

>"What is you'r sister doing all the way out here?"

>>2091304
>Help her bury her friends and interrogate her further (also include a question to ask)

>"How long have you been searching for your sister?"

>>2091304
>Help her bury her friends and interrogate her further (also include a question to ask)

>>2091331

Forgot a question.

"Will you keep searching for her alone?"

>>2091304
>No one is held down--but no one ever leaves; why would they? The wives live in comfort beyond the imagining of the commonblood, their every whim and desire fulfilled in an instant. Not to mention the honor and pleasure of laying with the living god.
Getting some red flag vibes from this statement.

>>You don't have time for this, Abby will slip past the Wall soon; trick the girl into helping you

I'm going to sleep. We'll continue tomorrow in our fragmented fashion.

I'll try to run an actual session sometime this week but I'm actually taking a shine to the slow pace, gives me lots of time to think about each update and eases the pressure a lot.

Here's some pastebins I made:

>Rules and Mechanics
https://pastebin.com/9FTCdNyC

>Character Sheet
https://pastebin.com/NxvUYb43

Yo QM, you should get a name and a twitter. Interesting story so far, strong work.

>>2091524
I concur.

>>2091524
Agree, also thinking about not selling the chainmail

>Help her bury her friends and interrogate her further (also include a question to ask)

>"How long have you been searching for your sister?"


The worldbuilding is pretty excellent in this, QM

>>2091399
>I'm actually taking a shine to the slow pace

You may want to make a twitter then, so we can know when you update

>>2091304
>>You don't have time for this, Abby will slip past the Wall soon; trick the girl into helping you

>>2091399
Btw where does the lore for this quest come from? I see a bunch of country names and creatures but no reerence to hem anywhere else.Did you create it all for this quest?

>>2091787
Guessing most of it is original, shows the qm has some dedication to his setting.

I would love 20+ more threads of this and hopefully RL doesn't get to QM

>>2091524
>>2091529
>>2091688

>Twitter:
@guard_qm

I think the way I'll use this (since I don't have formal sessions) is just to tweet every individual update, like a forum game.

>>2091787
It's all made up just for this quest.

last minute additional option

>Don't dig individual graves just one big grave for all of them, you were a guard not a funeral director

>>2091313
>>2091325
>>2091331
>>2091333
>>2091666

You look down at the gaunt bodies--now only flesh for the Great Void--it would be unlucky to leave them here for the birds and maggots. When she says to help her bury them, she really means for you to do all work, as she's no condition to do anything but rest. You sigh, taking off your pack. "You have a shovel? Or how are we doing this?"

"Taari--Taari come to me." She holds up her candle and waves it. The Kabo ambles to her, tasting the air around the candle flame. "Taari will dig. You need only move the bodies, I'll--" She tries to walk without your support and almost falls, you grab her and swing her arm around your shoulder.

"You'll rest and eat something." You say, leading her towards the tree.

"Thank you." She says softly, suddenly shy, her softness suddenly against your body. She's not a close wife for nothing. You know who she is and yet your heart still jumps from her coqquetry. Abby was comely too, come to think of it. You'll have to be cautious around this girl, careful not to fall for her charms. Royalty does not take kindly to adultery, as well you know.

You set her down at the base of the tree and hand her your tin of hardtack. You watch her nibble the cubes of cornmeal and the Kabo dig out some holes near the base of the cliffside with its hooked, birdlike feet. "I'm a little surprised actually."

"What of?" She asks.

"I thought Gizrathin didn't bury their dead. I mean it's common in Parasta, at least around here. I know up north they have some Volani customs--from when that territory was under the...I can't remember the name--well I guess there really isn't a name; Volani don't use names. It'd be some kind of semaphore. Sorry, am I babbling?" You're getting impatient and nervous. Abby should be near the Wall by now and you're not sure what you expect to get from this girl--a ride at the very least, but what then? Should you reveal what you know? Your objective? But she's her sister, she might try to stop you--not that she'll be able to in this state.

"Mm." She swallows and shakes her head. "Not at all. And you are right to be surprised. But we are not in Gizrathi now and must make do with what is convenient in place of what is proper."

"Wait so..." You rub your throat. "You really do take out their hearts and brains and...eat them?"

"Eat them? Netet na nof! Of course not! We freeze them in glass--and that only for the bloodpure--commonbloods are usually just thrown outside the city borders, taken away by the shifting sands. I would've preferred to carry my companions back to Gizrathi to be properly handled by a glassmaker but, I have only Taari--the other Kabo were not well-trained and fled at the first opportunity. And...my mission takes predecence."

"Speaking of which, what exactly is your sister doing out here?"

Her face sours. "I believe she's seeking a cure to her disease." She says. "Futile. There is no cure."

1/2

>>2091992
"How long have you been searching for her?"

She looks up and to the side, searching memory, counting on her fingertips. "It's been 2 months since I left Gizrathi. I've chased her across the sea and across your lands. I've heard rumors she's working with someone in the Sutherlands, so we were heading there...but we got lost."

"Why didn't you just take the main road?" Come to think of it why is she in this forest in the first place?

She doesn't say anything. Did she not hear you? You try again.

"Why didn't you just--"

"Looks like Taari is finished." She says, slowly and deliberately. "Would you mind?" She gestures to the ridingsaur and the three holes it has dug.

"Sure." You say. She doesn't meet your eyes. She's hiding something. You carry the bodies to the holes--it's easy work because they're so light, just bones and skin, but you have to make a concerted effort not too look at them or at the numerous pin-pricks like honeycombs all along their exposed skin, face, arms, bare legs, where the blood was sucked out. Once the deed is done, the Kabo kicks the upturned dirt back into each hole and buries them.

"What about these guys?" You gesture to the bandits.

"I don't care about them," she says. "Throw them into the river if you like or leave them for the rot." You're surprised at her sudden callousness, but you guess you shouldn't be. They did try to rob her. You put some stones in their pockets and throw them into the river, careful not to touch or take anything on their person. You watch as they sink into the waters, food for the leechweed.

"Thank you for all you've done." She says, getting unsteadily to her feet. "Taari, come to me." She starts to mount her Kabo. "May you love the paths the Wheel turns you toward." She says.

Is she fucking serious? You just saved her life and all you get is a "thank you and good luck"? Not even an offer for a ride through the forest?

>Play your trump card, reveal what you know about her sister (but not everything) and enlist her aid
>Fuck her. You don't need her. You can still get to the Wall before sundown, you'll just have to run
>Play the debt card--you saved her life, it's only fair she repay the favor

>>2091997
>>Fuck her. You don't need her. You can still get to the Wall before sundown, you'll just have to run

I don't know why you guys want to keep helping her. she's gonna turn when we off her sister. just setting up another vendetta but on us this time.

>>2091997

>Play the debt card--you saved her life, it's only fair she repay the favor
If that doesn't work...
>Fuck her. You don't need her. You can still get to the Wall before sundown, you'll just have to run

>>2091997
>Fuck her. You don't need her. You can still get to the Wall before sundown, you'll just have to run

Maybe if she finds that we killed her sister as she finds her we can mock her by saying 'you should have been more kind to those who helped you." Seems like this runs in the family.

>>2092027
Or we can kill her now. I don't get whats the big deal with everyone not stripping the dead bare and looting or selling their stuff.

>>2091997
>>Fuck her. You don't need her. You can still get to the Wall before sundown, you'll just have to run

>>2092139
Wait shit, start walking away and say "You're just as ungrateful as your sister."

>>2091997
>Play your trump card, reveal what you know about her sister (but not everything) and enlist her aid

>>2092179
I actually like this, I'm willing to gamble and support.

>>2091997
>Play the debt card--you saved her life, it's only fair she repay the favor
Or
>Fuck her. You don't need her. You can still get to the Wall before sundown, you'll just have to run

>>2092179
Supporting this.

>>2092179
>>2091997
This sounds like fun.

She might be royalty, but she isn't OUR Royalty and we wouldn't know her from a spoiled merchant wife from how she acts.

>>2092179
Also I wonder if she feels any obligation for her sister's debt to us. Not that we expect her to pay, after all she's *royalty* and probably assumes the honour of serving her to be enough for a simple peasant like ourselves.

>>2091997
>>2092179
second

Did we ever decide if we are trying to kill abby or no? I couldnt find if we did. I am of the opinion that it is really not worth it.

>>2092591
Bitch nearly got us sodomized. Shes a dead girl.

>>2092591
Come on man, we could have just left after escaping the rapist if we wanted to not get revenge.

>>2092591
Only if we can't ruin her life more thoroughly in some other way.

So far though I'm leaning towards taking over the remains of the bandits and starting a revolutionary army to overthrow the royalty of Gizrathi because they've been pretty shit so far.

I half expect this bitch to also try to kill us after finding out we met her sister.

I wonder if her sister sharing her Ra with us makes us related somehow.

But there certainly seems to be a clandestine aspect to the whole thing. Like why is royalty void tainted in the first place.

>>2092650
Well we don't really know how one becomes void tainted right? I bet it has something to do with Ra usage and she either made a mistake or tried to do something she shouldn't have.

>>2092650
Not a bad idea, probably beats killing the kid in front of her.

>>2092617
>>2092634
>>2092650
True, Was just asking. Did not see much of a point in killing her. Especially if her sister is there to witness us and report us to the other lords.

>>2092688
> Assuming ms "why didn't you use the main roads" isn't there to kill her anyways

Something something "rootdeath"

>>2092672
>>2092682
From a certain point of view she's already dead from the void taint.

>>2092650
>>2092672
Did that bitch give us Ra AIDS?

She gonna git it if she did, no mercy.

>>2092650
>Only if we can't ruin her life more thoroughly in some other way.
Yeah I wana make her suffer and cry a little, maybe take that boy and get reward for his return instead. Maybe let the lord know that abby let the kid get sodomized by a pedo fuck.

>So far though I'm leaning towards taking over the remains of the bandits and starting a revolutionary army to overthrow the royalty of Gizrathi because they've been pretty shit so far.
I wouldn't mind this since there is some weird aversion to looting the dead of their goods.

>>2092179
>>2092246
>>2092492
>>2092246

Fuck her and her entire lineage. "You're as ungrateful as your sister." You say. She presses on the stirrup and the Kabo turns. Her expression is wide-eyed.

"What did you just say?"

"I just saved your life and you--"

"You spoke of my sister--as though you knew her. You've met her? You've seen her? Speak!" Her eyes are wild and dangerous, but she has nothing to back her. Her Ra is spent and she's still weak from the blood loss.

"You owe me a debt. I saved your life, the least you could do is give me a ride out of the forest. We're heading in the same direction anyway--the Sukhar Wall."

"Tell me what you know about my sister Parastan. I will not ask again."

And there goes your patience. "You won't? Oh gee, whatever will I do? Listen bitch, I don't care who you are or which god's tongue you suck. You're in Parasta now. In Parasta, a man does you a favor--saves your fucking life? You pay that favor back first and only then ask questions."

She clenches her jaw and scowls. "You dare speak to me as though--"

"Yeah! I dared. What are you going to do? Besides bleed on me, eat my food, and use up my Teeth powder?"

She breathes heavily, and for a moment you think she's going to throw up. Then she takes a few deep breaths and seems to calm down and finally nods. "Get on then." She says, turning the Kabo so you can climb behind her, then offering her hand. You take it and she pulls you up with surprising strength. You wrap your arms around her (which she doesn't seem like too much, but fuck her) and she kicks the sides of the ridingsaur. It leaps unto the cliff face--climbing up in much the same way it climbed down.

1/2

>>2092917
"What was the nature of your...relationship with my sister?" She says the word 'relationship' in the same way a Parastan veteran might say 'Volani scum'. You can almost taste the hatred.

"She was my employer." A half-truth, but better than a lie. You doubt that telling her that you're on your way to get revenge on her for selling you to sodomites will go over well. She turns back and looks at you.

"Employer? What did she hire you for? Who exactly are you?"

You hesitate. How much should you tell her? You've never been very good at lying, you tend to sweat a lot and your voice gets scratchy. Better to tell her the truth--with some judicial omissions. "I'm Columbus Oharran. I used to be a guard. Now I'm a roaming sellsword. I was traveling to the Sutherlands to offer my services to the Banizrel merchants--I met your sister on the road to the Sukhar Wall."

"And she hired you? Why? What was she doing?"

"She hired me for my services as a sellsword." You can already feel the sweats coming on. "To--to help with a job she was doing for someone else."

"What job? Why were you in the forest?"

"Why were *you* in the forest? I asked you first and you never answered."

"You think this is a joke Parastan? My sister is a--" She catches herself and clears her throat.

"What? Voidtouched? Yeah, I already knew that."

"No." She mumbles. "I mean yes, she is Voidtouched." She kneads her forehead in the same way as her sister and sighs. "Then that's it? You were just working for her?"

"What else would I be doing?"

"Nothing." She's silent for a minute. "If you were working for my sister then why isn't she with you?"

Now she's asking the dangerous questions and you can feel your armpits start to moisten and your throat quiver. You don't say anything and the silence hangs over you as the trees and the foilage rush past you in a colorful blur. You're moving at an incredible speed now, at this rate you might make it to the Wall in time after all.

"You're lying aren't you?" She asks. Shit. "Or least not telling the whole truth. Fine. You must have your reasons. Tell me this at least...does she still live? My sister?"

"...yes."

"I see." She sounds almost disappointed. You ride in silence awhile, trying put things together in your head. Why was she in the forest? What isn't she telling you? More importantly, why is a close wife of the royal Gizrathi harem chasing after another wife? Just because they're sisters? That doesn't seem right.

2/3

>>2092922
Your musings lead only to more questions but soon the weighty edifice of the Sukhar Wall comes into view and pushes them aside.

You've never seen anything like it. It's higher than any Parastan structure, standing twenty stories tall in some places--and for all its age, there's not a mark on it, no vine tendrils caress its stone, no moss in the mortar; clean and smooth as the day the bricks were laid. And everywhere the Words of Power glow in the dying light like constellations. Unreadable. Inscrutable. Even Ketiaa takes a moment to appreciate the sight and mutters some soft words in her own tongue--perhaps of veneration or awe.

You follow the facade until you reach Sutherland Gate which is more of a town than a simple checkpoint. Wooden cabins surround both sides of the Wall, forming wide semi-circular streets. Beyond them, you can see the domes of Parastan tents set up near the gate proper (which is really just a broken part of the main Wall guarded by some Parastans). They form something of a bazaar where Parastans, Sutherners and even a few Volani scum exchange goods and services.

By your calculations, you should have just made it. Ketiaa has stopped her Kabo in the middle of the street, attracting the attention (and ire) of passersby. A guard soon shuffles up to you, advising you to move along.

"I'm looking for someone." Says Ketiaa. "A Gizrathin, she would look similar to me, being my sister. Have you seen anyone like that?"

"Look, lady, lots of people pass through here. Gizrathin? Maybe. I don't know. Go ask the checkpoint up ahead, but you gotta keep moving, you're blocking traffic."

"Maybe we should--" You start. You just saw her. You definitely saw her--there! A small, fair face in the crowd, carrying a child. It's her! It's Abby!

"Should what Columbus?" Asks Ketiaa. She's spotted you, you're sure of it because she's now weaving faster through the crowd. Fucking bitch. She's almost to the bazaar now. Ketiaa is still waiting for you to finish your sentence. "What is it?" She asks again.

>Dismount now and give chase, you'll move faster on foot
>Alert Ketiaa of what you've just seen, you can jump with Kabo across the rooftops
>Let her go, for now. Focus on the Ketiaa--she's still hiding something

>>2092930
Say thanks for the ride, and that we will part to find more long lasting employment.
Take a long way around to the bazaar.
Then track the sister.

>>2092952
This

>>2092952
I support this. Let's not waste our time trying to rein in this chick. She's too big for her breeches.

>>2092930
>>Alert Ketiaa of what you've just seen, you can jump with Kabo across the rooftops

>>2092952
She is going to see through this. We suck at lying and already told her she owes us; suddenly saying "yeah never mind, see ya" is going to flip some switches in her head.