>>2747399
>>Get started on breakfast, he’ll be awake soon
Welcome back Watdo

>>2747399
>Get started on breakfast, he’ll be awake soon
Good to see you back, Watdo.

>>2747413
>>2747415
It was happiness.

She felt guilty for it and for watching him in these private moments. It felt like she was spying on a god in the bath and she expected a thunderbolt to fall any second, but it never did. There weren’t even rain clouds.

It only made her more scared. At least with her old master she knew what to expect; the constancy of the pain made it strangely bearable. She learned ways to hide inside herself, to plunge herself and drown herself so she couldn’t feel the whips, the knives, the drips of acid, the flaming iron. Nothing she did had ever worked, at best it delayed his punishment, at worst it multiplied his zeal, but as long as she was in her waters, she could bear it. And eventually she got so good that there weren’t any more tears or screaming; and maybe that’s why she was let go.

And that was the problem. He was pulling her out of those waters, wrenching the pieces of armor apart. If she was hurt now what would happen? It might be fatal. But at least this master followed rules. At least he hadn’t hurt her yet and had even gone out of his way to take some of the hurt away. To give her dignitiy. To give her hope. And that made her afraid too, in a different way. She was scared of being tossed away, of being sweeped and discarded like broken glass because she was also broken inside and her flesh was marked by the breaking.

She cracked a half dozen eggs from a basket and poured their soft contents into a bowl. She would have to tell him they were out again, or tell the guards. She didn’t like talking to the guards. She didn’t like the way they looked at her, like they were waiting for a moment when she was out of her master’s sight, out of his attention or care. They were watching her now. She could feel their eyes from the doorway like two hands pressing between her shoulder-blades, exploring her.

>Wake your master
>Let your master sleep you can handle this much
>Glare at the guards

>>2747433
>Wake your master

>>2747433
>Wake your master

YOUR BACK WATDO

>>2747399
>It's back.
Oh yes.

>>2747433
>Wake your master

>>2747399
>>Get started on breakfast, he’ll be awake soon

>>2747446
>>2747451

She hesitated to wake him. She wished she was stronger. Less afraid. All her actions were guarded and calculated in advance. If she made one wrong step she would lose everything. In a way she preferred not having anything to lose.

Maybe, if she did her work well and didn’t make any mistakes and tried her best, everything would be alright. This thought was often accompanied by a quick adjustment of her ribbon, a brush of the soft silk against her cheek before setting it again in her hair. It gave her comfort. Reassurance that maybe her master would never do the things she imagined.

But she knew she had already made a mistake. A big one. And she kept going over it and over it in her mind, like a tongue sliding over dry lips only making them drier. She watched the yolks and the whites solidify in the pan and inside her brain flashed the vision of his head in her arms, of his face held to her breast. She felt panic-sweat flush under her toes. How could she have done something so stupid?

And why hadn’t he punished her for it? It would come eventually, she knew. It was a mistake. An awful mistake. She entertained no fanciful notions. She knew that she was unclean, that no matter how much she wanted to burn them away or scratch them out, there were stains inside her she could never reach; there was no soap for the soul. And she had clutched him to her impure body--the audacity!

She slid the eggs out of the pan and could take no more.

She stood over him. Her elbows shivered from fright. The men were still watching her but the calm returned and the lightness. She had seen his many faces; concern when she had first met him, pleasure when she had first fed him, joy when she had returned to him, terrible, terrible anger when he had transformed and become a monster, and the perpetual worry he wore in this place that she could not take away. But this peace she liked the most.

She touched his shoulder and shook him, a smile and a song took her lips.

---

>>2747467

You wake to singing. A song you’ve heard somewhere before but can’t quite place. The words are Elvish, the lyrics tell a story. Roland the False Knight, a peasant that dons the armor of a dead noble and tries to change his station. His martial skill brings him prestige and reward. He wins a battle. He wins a war. He is granted land and cattle and a wife. And then a rival who he had bested in a joust, betrays him and exposes his origins. His is stripped of his titles. His wife and two children abandon him. He is hanged at the gallows at noon and buried in an unmarked grave with ten paupers; a lesson to all men that one cannot really escape one’s past. A distasteful sobriety, though, admittedly a good song.

You rub the dreams from your eyes, but the song remains and you are surprised to find that it is your Elf giving the rendition. She hovers over you a moment before scampering back to the stove. While you’re enjoying the novelty of her singing, you’re not a big fan of the song.

>Tell her to stop
>Just get up and wash
>Listen for a bit longer

>>2747469
>Listen for a bit longer

>>2747469
>Listen for a bit longer

>>2747469
>Listen for a bit longer

>>2747469
>>Just get up and wash

>>2747470
>>2747472
>>2747476
>>2747479

You lie back and invite sleep to come again. Her voice floats over you like a curling fog, like the vapors of a boiling hot spring. You turn your head and watch her back, watch her body in the motions of her work. It gives a strange measure of comfort, to see her so diligent, to witness her hands actually drawing fruit from her labor.

You cannot profess the same. You rub your eyes again, feeling the heavy swellings beneath like packets of milk. Six days and no progress at all on a cure. Nothing you’ve tried has worked and the lizard has only gotten worse. Mostly you’ve been distracted. How could you not be? Roche practically declared he was going to kill Toad and you’ve done nothing about it. You’ve tried to get in contact with Toad all this past week but the guards have suddenly refused to let you out of this cage.

Your Elf finishes her song, but not at its conclusion. She stops at the verse where Roland marries his wife and names his second child. You think you like her ending better. You swing your legs off the bed and head for the small makeshift outhouse by the docks below. There are no ships moored here except a small rowboat tied to the pier. You’ve considered fleeing on it more than once, but you know wouldn’t get very far. You wash your face and grope blindly on the barrel for your razor. Your Elf normally places it there for you, along with a small hand mirror, but neither are there today.

>Ask Leia
>Forgo shaving, just wash
>Look for it yourself

>>2747491
>Ask Leia

>>2747491
>Ask Leia

>>2747500
>>2747504
>>2747515


“Leia! Where’s my razor?”

You must’ve accidentally put an edge to your voice because she actually yelps. “Oh! I’m so sorry master! I’ll bring down right away.” You can hear her scramble to the inner room, which you’ve given to her for her own use. You’re not sure why your razor would be in there but you don’t dwell on it.

After the first night’s fiasco, you’ve take to sleeping on a small couch next to the lab, to monitor it better and to give your slave some privacy. She seems more on edge than usual, though her singing does suggest she’s coming out of it.

You sigh and look at your hands, scarred and destroyed by years of experiment and abuse. Entire layers of flesh eroded from the toxic chemicals you handle. And for all your experience and supposed skill you cannot cure one little disease. Maybe the Sisters at the orphanage were right. Maybe Lawson is right. Maybe you are and always will be a failure.

“Seabass! You in here?” A familiar scratchy drawl bounces off the empty spaces of the cavern.

>Go and greet Toad, you can shave after
>Tell him to come down
>Stay silent; see how he interacts with your Elf alone

>>2747517
>Go and greet Toad, you can shave after

>>2747517

>Go and greet Toad, you can shave after

>>2747517
>Tell him to come down

>>2747517
>Go and greet Toad, you can shave after

>>2747520
>>2747522
>>2747523
You don’t walk up, you run. You jump the stone-cut stairs two at a time. “Toad! Toad!” Try as you might to hold them back, the tears blur your vision. And try as he might to hold you back, you have wrap your arms around his body.

“Master did you want the soap--” Your Elf curtsies when she sees Toad, just as you taught her. He just scowls.

“Alright Seabass, that’s enough.” Says Toad. Nonetheless he pats your back, which for him is an unbelievable show of affection. He pulls away and you see that he looks even worse than you do. He’s been drinking again, regularly and hard and he’s been getting even less sleep than you have, if that’s even possible.

“What happened to you?” You ask.

“Could ask the same. You look like shit.”

You turn away and touch your face. You start to laugh, more from the fact that he’s OK than that he’s right. “Yeah.” You sigh and shake your head. “It’s just work. Look we need to talk, Toad.” You look behind at you at the guards, expected them to be unconscious. They’re not. They’re not even watching you. You grab Toad and lead him to the breakfast table, which immediately sets your Elf to fixing her hair and playing with her ribbon. You’ve learned that she usually does this when something is wrong or bothering her.

“What?” You ask her.

“T-there aren’t enough eggs.” She says, quietly.

“It’s fine. Toad can have mine. I’ll just have some sausages and toast. We do have those right?”

She nods and bites her lip. Her hands are still in fiddling with the silk. You sigh. “What?”

“M-master can have my eggs. I know master likes eggs.”

You hear Toad grunt in great exasperation and pass his plate to you. “Not hungry.” He says, protesting your look. “Already ate.”

>Ask him why he’s been drinking again
>Get a status update; what has he been up to?
>Tell him what Roche told you

>>2747545
>>Get a status update; what has he been up to?

>>2747545
>Tell him what Roche told you
>Get a status update; what has he been up to?

>>2747545
>No you haven't, you just drank. Get some meat in you, at least
>Tell him what Roche told you. He should know that whatever he's in, you're in pretty deep shit as well and there's no point keeping it from each other.

>>2747549
>>2747552
>>2747557

You don’t believe him of course but those eyes are the kind that will admit no debate. Not without effort, and you’d rather conserve yours for more important arguments.

“So, what’s the news up top?” Better to hear his side first, to avoid redundancy.

Toad shifts in his seat, picking at a wooden hangnail between his legs. Occasionally he’ll reach for his pipe, an unconscious gesture, but one he never completes, always resting his hand on the upper part of the thigh instead.

“I’ve been looking into Roche. Into this whole business.” He glances behind him, at first you think he’s watching for the guards, but actually he’s staring at the lizard. “How is he?” He asks. A burning lump rises in your throat, like a bolt of flaming stone sent from a volcano.

“He doesn’t have long.” You say. You try to dislodge the lump with eggs.

Toad scratches his cheek, at a fresh horizontal scar where his razor must have slipped. “I was right about a few things. Roche is working for himself with this, but the Five-Pointed Cross is working for the Viceroy. For Antipater. This whole poison business was his idea.”

You nod. A slight surprise comes into Toad’s eyes, noticing your calm. “You knew?”

“I found out. Roche told me.”

“I see. That’s not good. You don’t tell things like that to people you’re not going to--” He stops stares at you and reaches again for the pipe, but stays his hand on his thigh. “Well, that’s not going happen.” He mutters. “You’re going to run.” He says.

“What?”

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a folded letter and a small purse. “Money and a letter of introduction. It’ll get you a place to sleep while you look for an apartment. I’ll have the rest of your stuff sent as soon as I can--I can trust the redhead right?”

>What the hell is he talking about, you’re not leaving
>Maybe this is for the best, where are you going?
>Stay calm; hear him out first

>>2747586
>Stay calm; hear him out first

>>2747586
>Stay calm; hear him out first
>Toad, you DO know that even if I get out, the orphanage is going to be screwed if we leave things as is, right? They're right in the thick of this kobold poison nonsense, and they don't even know it.

>>2747586
Changing this >>2747597 too >>2747599

>>2747599
Seconding

Good to have you back Watdo, we missed you.

File: 1472839011756.gif (536 KB, 381x512)

536 KB GIF

>get up
>browse the board
>suddenly see Elf Slave quest

It takes everything you have to remain calm. An vein has hardened inside your stomach and snapped, leaking hot rage everywhere. You chew the wooden spoon and crush the soft eggmeat in your mouth.

Toad has at least noticed that you’re ready to breathe fire. He touches your hand, unsure of the gesture, like a writer touching the pen after a long break. “I need to keep you safe.” He says. “You should never have agreed to this, I told you from the beginning. I know the money was good but--”

You slap the table. “I didn’t do it for the money. It was never about the money!” You snatch your hand back and take deep breaths. This isn’t you. This is the sleep deprivation, the failed experiments, the look on the lizard’s eyes as you have to tell him day after day that you aren’t any closer to curing the disease your people inflicted on him, the pleading in his eyes to release him so he can at least die in the way of his choosing and the despair when you tighten the straps across his body.

“I know.” Says Toad. This time, his hand goes all the way into his pocket and draws the pipe. “I know.” He says again. “But I have to keep you safe. I promised.”

“What are you going to do?”

He lights the pipe and takes a long pull. He looks at your Elf, whose cheeks are swollen with eggs, entirely oblivious to the situation.

“Toad. What are you going to do?” A creeping fear is quickly supplanting your hurt and anger.

“What do you do when a subordinate gets uppity?” He releases the smoke. “You go to the boss.”

“Antipater? You’re going to Antipater?” He nods. You stand up and pace, clutching your head “Are you out of your goddamn mind! Antipater! I mean he’s--don’t you think this is taking the worse of two evils?”

“Maybe. But one of those evils hasn’t threatened my daughter, threatened to tell her things she shouldn’t know.”

“What things?”

He shakes his head and the smoke forms a curve as it comes out. “There’ll be some fallout. There always is. I need to minimize the risk. Reduce the variables.” He gives you a pleading look, a moment of weakness so completely out of character it’s almost comical. “Please Seabass, just do what I’m asking.”

You sit down.

>Press him on Roche's blackmail
>Bring up the orphange
>Refuse outright and reveal what Roche told you

>>2747681
>>Refuse outright and reveal what Roche told you

>>2747681
>Bring up the orphange
>Refuse outright and reveal what Roche told you

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155 KB JPG

>>2747399
What a cute start to your comeback thread.
Also, now I have somewhere to post my elf pics again. Today is a good day.

>>2747681
>Bring up the orphange
>Refuse outright and reveal what Roche told you

>>2747702
>>2747687
>>2747688

“No.” You say. You cut him off before he can respond. “It’s my turn. Roche basically told me that he was going to kill you. Something about revenge for your past sins--I know it has something to do with the slave rebellion in Eastmarch, so don’t even start.” You cool your throat with some water. “I’m not going anywhere. You’re in danger and I know you think you’re being noble by going to Antipater and trying to keep everyone safe. But you’re not. You’re just being stupid and selfish and arrogant. Have you thought about what’s going to happen to Lily if you get hurt? If, Thrice Great forbid it, you die? She would be devastated.”

“I’m doing this for her.” He says.

“Well you’re not doing it alone. I’m not the helpless little boy you rescued from Eastmarch. Don’t expect me to just tuck my tail and run. That’s not what men do. You taught me that.”

Toad grunts and rolls the pipe from one side of his mouth to the other. “Just like your father.” He mutters.

“And what about the orphanage?”

“What?”

“The orphanage. Sarah and Abe and Lucy.”

“What about them?”

“Lucy’s been infected with some derivative of the poison.”

“Motherfucker.”

“It can be cured with magic but it’s an expensive procedure. Abe’s planning on dipping into his savings.

“The savings for the Academy?”

You nod, surprised that he remembers or was even paying attention when you told him. “And he’s even been moonlighting with some adventurers. To hunt kobolds.”

“Motherfucker. When was this?”

“It’s been a few days. I’ve been meaning to check up on them, but it doesn’t seem like I’m allowed out anymore. Lack of results I guess.” You rub your arm, some of your former bravado deflated.

Toad kneads his forehead. “OK. I’ll check up on them. Haven’t heard anything about dead kids so far.” Not the most comforting way to put it, but you appreciate his effort. He looks at you again, making the demand a second time without saying anything.

>You won’t budge, you’ll stay here and keep working on the cure
>You’ll go with Toad to meet Antipater
>On second thought maybe a brief vacation might be exactly what you need

>>2747719
>>You won’t budge, you’ll stay here and keep working on the cure
Ain't no one got time for vacation

>>2747719
>You won’t budge, you’ll stay here and keep working on the cure

>>2747719
>You won’t budge, you’ll stay here and keep working on the cure

>>2747719
>>You won’t budge, you’ll stay here and keep working on the cure
We gotta do what we do best, A L C H E M Y

>>2747739
>>2747722
>>2747728
>>2747735

You pick up your spoon and fiddle with the remaining eggs. Despite everything you’ve just said, at the end of the day what is it that you can really do? You’re no good in a fight. You can’t sleuth around like Toad can. And if you go with him to meet Antipater (you won’t try to convince him otherwise, he has that stoneface he gets when he’s made up his mind about something, and nothing short of temporary amnesia will budge him now) you doubt you’d be able to control yourself. Not in the state you’re in right now.

All you can do, is all you know how to do: alchemy.

“I’m going to stay here and keep working on the cure.” You say.

“Seabass…”

“You won’t convince me otherwise. This cure is important. If only so I can help Abe and Lucy.” You don’t mention the lizard. He might be beyond saving at this point.

Toad sighs and puts out his pipe. He slides the letter and purse over to you. “First sign of trouble. First sign. You run and you don’t look back. You promise me that right now or I will knock you out and take you away myself.”

He’s completely serious.
“Alright, geez.” You pat the coins and letter. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“I don’t think so. Just keep yourself safe.”

But a plan now begins to crystalize in your head. If Toad is going to visit the orphanage and meet up with Abe, then maybe he can make use of the anabolic you made. Though you’re not sure who needs it more, you or him. Probably you.

>Tell him to bring back news and the anabolic from Abe
>Tell him about the anabolic and to use it if necessary
>Just wish him luck and get to work

>>2747802
>Tell him about the anabolic and to use it if necessary

>>2747802
>>Tell him about the anabolic and to use it if necessary

>>2747802
>Tell him about the anabolic and to use it if necessary

>>2747802
>Tell him about the anabolic and to use it if necessary

>>2747802
>Tell him about the anabolic and to use it if necessary
Hulk toad seems terrifying...

>>2747808
>>2747810
>>2747811
>>2747816
>>2747831
Toad grabs a sausage for the road, trying to hide his obvious pleasure biting into it. “I’ll come again in a few days.” He says.

“Alright. One last thing. If you do see Abe, tell him to give you the anabolic I made--if there’s any left over--and use it if you need it.”

“I’m a little old to be bulking.”

“I say it’s an anabolic but it’s more like one of those strength potions that the Sacred Band uses. Just don’t take all of it at once.”

“A strength potion.” He grunts. Approval you think. “You’re getting good.”

“Something like that.”

He takes another bite of the sausage and nods to the guards as he leaves. You return to your plate of half-finished eggs, wondering how you’re going to breakthrough this wall. You have no appetite.

“M-master should eat all the eggs.” Says Leia. You look up at her and she physically winces “Master hasn’t been eating right.” She mutters, dragging her fingernails in tight circles on her completely cleaned plate.

>Finish breakfast, if only to satisfy your Elf’s efforts and prevent waste
>There’s no time and you’re not hungry; get to work
>Just give her your eggs, it’s what you’ve been doing for the past few days anyway

>>2747852
>>There’s no time and you’re not hungry; get to work
Quickly there is Alchemy to be done!

>>2747852
>>Finish breakfast, if only to satisfy your Elf’s efforts and prevent waste

I never thought I'd actually want to hear someone tell me that I have to eat all the eggs.

>>2747852
Eat up, maybe split

>>2747852
>Split the eggs up and share, then get to work.

>>2747852
>Split the eggs up and share, then get to work.

>>2747852
>“M-master should eat all the eggs.” Says Leia.
kek
I see what you did there.

>>2747852
Oh, I vote this also

>>2747863
>>2747866

>>2747863
>>2747866
>>2747887
>>2747858
>>2747862
>>2747863

You get up and plop half the eggs unto her plate and leave the other half for yourself. “Satisfied?”

“Master should eat more.” She says, quietly.

“And so should you.” You say. “You’ve finally gained some weight right?” She nods, a little abashed. “Good. One of us needs to be healthy.”

The remainder of breakfast offers a brief and quiet respite from your troubles. You try and put them out of mind, thinking of fairer, sweeter things. Sarah. The kids at the orphanage. Your Elf’s singing. Nina, for some reason.

Then inevitably you return back to reality. Back to the wheezing lizard with sores along his mouth, his eyes clouded with strange infections, his fever burning through his organs. Back to the scattered apparatuses which have seen so much use these past days, but have provided no result.

You’re stuck. You’ve isolated the toxic compounds that are responsible for the effect, but have no idea what their mechanism of action is or how to prevent it.

>Consult the Toxins and Tonics book for guidance, there must be something in there that can help
>Maybe it’s time you consult its creator--take this to Lawson
>Attempt another experiment--even if all the past ones have failed
>There’s not much you can do now, spend the rest of the day with the lizard, comforting him as he breathes his last

OOC: Gonna grab some lunch. Will be back soon. Thanks all for the warm welcome! It's nice to be back.

>>2747892
>>Consult the Toxins and Tonics book for guidance, there must be something in there that can help
followed by
>Attempt another experiment--even if all the past ones have failed
No giving up on the lizard until it's dead.

>>2747892
>Consult the Toxins and Tonics book for guidance, there must be something in there that can help

>Attempt another experiment--even if all the past ones have failed

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>>2747898
Nice to have you back, my dude. Still interested in elf pics?

>>2747902
OOC: Oh yes. I'm gonna be using this one: >>2747694 for the next thread probably. Just no lewds

>>2747892
>>There’s not much you can do now, spend the rest of the day with the lizard, comforting him as he breathes his last

Compassion is a Healer's duty and that's what Seabass is trying to be for now. Maybe that little act will be a new spark inside his eyes and a small memory in his heart.

Make the last hours of the Lizard pleasant ones.

>>2747900
+1
>>2747910
Nah mate, we ain't giving up yet.

>>2747904
[Spoiler] Why not? Lewd elf is best elf.

>>2747892
>>2747900
this. it's not over till lizard man croaks

>>2747919
Not for an OP image it’s not. Gives bad idea to mods and new players.

>>2747962
Oh i misread then.

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>>2747904
>about half of my elf pics are risque and/or lewd
Happiness but also despair.

>>2747900
>>2747901
>>2747916
>>2747938

You want to give and let go. You want to sink into the cushions of the couch into a soft, mattressed world where the sharp angles of your problems cannot poke. You’ve felt this despair before, first at the orphanage, then when you first moved here and didn’t know a single person and struggled to sell your perfumes. It was the loneliness and sense of isolation that ate away at you, that sense of being superfluous, a weed of the world that should be tore out and killed.

Your Elf gathers the plates and heads down to the waters. There is a bucket and some soap by the pier that she uses to wash. “Master isn’t going to shave?” She asks. You brush your hand over your cheek, the fuzz feels sharp even against your broken skin. You look to the lizard and listen to his silence punctuated by the occasional coughing fit.

You rise. You are not alone anymore and you have learned the universal lesson the Thrice Great teaches. All is one. To live for oneself is the path to ruin. To save one life, is to save the world entire.

You will save this life.

But first you need to shave. You join your slave by the docks and each of you do your work in quiet. Your thoughts return to the task at hand but this time with a newfound focus, a new energy.
Obviously you’re missing something. And until you figure out what that something is, you’re just groping blindly. You need to take a step back; to see the whole.

The book on Toxins and Tonics that you bought from Mam may have some answers. You’ve only been using it as a reference for some experiments but there is an entire section in the front about toxin pathology and theory--more importantly, this book too has been annotated by the mysterious margin-writer. You’ve started calling him Mr. Glossman in your head. You’re beginning to wonder who exactly this Mr. Glossman is, you’re no longer sure if his comments are the wisdom of a genius or the ramblings of madness.

You harvest the last blade of hair from your chin and wash the remains. Your Elf has already finished her work and has returned to prepare the glassware for the day’s work. She’s proven a more competent assistant than you expected. You rarely have to explain anything twice--granted prep work isn’t brain surgery, but she’s come a long way from the stuttering, shivering waif you bought not so long ago.

Perhaps soon, she’ll request to be freed and will be able to live on her own and no longer need you. When that day comes, what will you do? Pay her for services probably. You shudder at the thought.

---

>Roll 1d20 to see what you learn from Toxins and Tonics

Rolled 8 (1d20)

>>2748205
Big money!

Rolled 5 (1d20)

>>2748205
Please good roll

Rolled 1 (1d20)

>>2748205

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42 KB JPG

>>2747875
made me fucking laugh, anon.

>>2748216
You've got to be kidding me. This quest is fucking cursed.

Rolled 12 (1d20)

>>2748216
R.I.P. lizardbro

Rolled 3 + 2 (1d4 + 2)

>>2748211
>>2748213
>>2748216

>^ Hours left till Lizard dies
>8, 5, 1 vs. 10: 0 Success, +1 success from Bookworm

Toxins and Tonics is written by one man. By the old tradition he only goes by his family name: Pastor. Pastor has divided his book into three parts, the first deals with pathology and the last with some methods of experimentation, as already mentioned. The second is more of a hypothetical work, proposing various (untested) explanations of some related phenomena. Leafing through the book you can see that Mr. Glossman has written mostly in the second part, and that most of his markings are derogatory and corrective.

Unfortunately the book has suffered some water damage and many of the pages are either stuck together or the ink in them have washed into an unreadable mess. By the time you’ve actually pieced together some useful information from the disparate passages, it’s well past lunchtime.

Roche told you that the toxin kills within 7 days. It’s already day seven and if you don’t come up with a solution now, the lizard will be dead by days end. Luckily, or perhaps by your own diligence, a solution appears on the horizon, fuzzy but visible.

It’s the second section of the book that proves most useful--not because of what Pastor writes, but, as usual, because of Mr. Glossman’s rebuttals. Pastor proposes a modification to the theory of humours that was prevalent in his day. He suggests that yellow and black bile are responsible for the “action against the toxin”, that is to say the body’s natural reaction against a toxic agent.

He proposes a theory to explain the so called “Lavoz Effect”, in which a poison ingested in small quantities over a large period of time can make one immune to larger doses. “Clearly” he writes, “this action against the toxin is a direct result of the change in composition of the yellow and black biles, a process which I will hereafter call, bilic immunity.” He goes on to toot his horn for several pages (which Mr. Glossman comments is “an embiggening necessary to offset attention from the smallness of other places”) and then writes “It has not escaped the author’s attention, that a proposal of manufacture, or indeed, designed bile, transfused without rejection, may provide artificial bilic immunity. That is to say, a universal antitoxin.” He then goes on to describe a procedure involving a vial of deathrattle extract and several kittens (which he claims is a close enough relative of the mongoose--a well known toxin-resistant animal--to produce the required bile. More importantly they’re cheap.) You sincerely hope he hasn’t actually carried out these experiments as the theory of humours was thoroughly disproved by Avogard and Han about 20 years ago.

1/2

>>2748343
Mr. Glossman however, provides a different explanation. He claims that within the blood are the agents of a complex internal system that fights disease--all disease. He dubs them, “immunogens”. He also claims that these immunogens are too small to be seen with the naked eye (which immediately raises several red flags) and then goes off on a tangent (a rant really) about what he calls “animalcules” which he claims are the building blocks of every organ and tissue of all life on the planet (which sets the red flags at full mast).

Ignoring the insane bits, the concept of immunogens sparks some ideas of your own. You know that the primary toxin shuts down the nervous system, the symptoms are the same in every case; paralysis of the lungs and subsequent death almost clockwork in the mice. But the secondary toxin had odd and variable effects. Some got those mouth sores, some had breathing problems, some died from fever. You thought that the toxin was somehow changing in their bodies, creating a different set of symptoms for each patient. But maybe there’s a simpler explanation.

What if the toxin was affecting these immunogens? It’s well known that there is some defense mechanism in the body which protects against disease--maybe the same system that Mr. Glossman proposes--otherwise every cold and flu would be fatal. Maybe the toxin was interfering with these natural abilities, or destroying them. And what you were seeing were not the direct effects but the aftermath of that destruction: a weakened state where even minor diseases could kill.

It would even explain why the lizardmen were affected by this toxin but not others. The primary neurotoxin is fast acting but could be excreted quickly if the immunogens in the lizards provided protection. The secondary toxin is more subtle, and degrades over a period of weeks, possibly months and by killing the very mechanism which would kill it in turn, it survives until the victim dies from the common cold.

Insidious. You cannot help but admire Lawson’s genius and wonder at its purpose.

Still, you still don’t have any way to cure it. Some ideas for experiments do come to you, but there’s no certainty or even probability of success.

>Try some experiments
>Continue reading, there has be to something else (+1 DC, -2 hours)
>You have to confront Lawson

>>2748347
>>Continue reading, there has be to something else (+1 DC, -2 hours)
I want to say just jump right in with the experimentation because we're so low on time, but we'd just be back to square one doing shit blindly again.

>>2748347
>Continue reading, there has be to something else (+1 DC, -2 hours)

>>2748347
>>Continue reading, there has be to something else (+1 DC, -2 hours)

oof

>>2748349
>>2748352
>>2748362

You check on the lizard. He’s slipping in and out of consciousness, mutter incoherencies in his own tongue between hacking coughs. You replace the rolled up towel on his forehead and can make out a single expression from the movement of his lips. “Kill me.”

You return to your books.

>Roll 1d20 to see if there’s anything left in the book

Rolled 5 (1d20)

>>2748368
F

Rolled 14 (1d20)

>>2748368
Check this inevitable fucking ONE

Rolled 10, 11 = 21 (2d20)

>>2748368

Rolled 3 (1d20)

>>2748368

>>2748369
>>2748371
>>2748375

>5, 14, 3: 1 Success +1 Success from Bookworm

Your stomach is aching for food you’ll have to go without. There’s precious few hours left and they tick down with the finality of a funeral bell. Your Elf bothers you about food and in a moment of vile weakness, you snap at her and yell at her to leave you alone. She doesn’t. She’s scared. Almost as much as when you had transformed and tried to kill her, but she remains near you, fixed to that spot.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” She asks, wringing her hands in her fashion.

You sigh and knead your eyes. You’re about to yell at her again, just because she’s there, just to release some of the immense pressure building up inside, when your eyes fall on a single line in the margin which sends a thrill through your bones.

“Elf immuno-potency hypothesis: Elven longevity and good health a result of their unique immunogens? Possible mutagenic.protective effect of magical origin.”

You read it again. You read the passage it’s referring to, something about variance in immunity across the races.

“Master?” Your Elf draws closer and you grab her shoulders. You’re breathing so fast you think you’re going to throw up. The entire idea has entered fully formed into your mind, like a battering ram through a plaster wall.

There’s a risk. But there’s always risks. And it’ll work. You stare at your slave and feel a twinge of heavy guilt in your heart. She hates starleeches.
“What’s wrong master?”

“I need your blood.” You say. It takes her a second to understand and then her face contorts into some terrible realization and then a panicked look you’ve never seen before. She doesn’t just hate starleeches, she’s terrified of them.

“No.” You’re almost as surprised as she is to hear the word. She shakes her head and digs her nails into her arm. “No, please master. Anything else.” She swallows back sobs. “Please anything else, master. Please.” She drops to her knees and begs.

But there’s just no other way.

>3 hours left
>Remind her that she is your slave; she must obey
>Promise her a reward if she complies
>Wait for her to calm down, patiently explain the situation ask her why she’s afraid (-20 minutes)

>>2748424
>Wait for her to calm down, patiently explain the situation ask her why she’s afraid (-20 minutes)

>>2748424
>>Wait for her to calm down, patiently explain the situation ask her why she’s afraid (-20 minutes)

>>2748424
>Wait for her to calm down, patiently explain the situation then ask her why she’s afraid (-20 minutes)

>>2748424
>>Wait for her to calm down, patiently explain the situation ask her why she’s afraid (-20 minutes)
Calm her down yourself if you have to, hands on her shoulders to steady her.
Have her avert her eyes when we do it and remind her it won't hurt and it'll be over quickly.

>>2748424
>Wait for her to calm down, patiently explain the situation ask her why she’s afraid (-20 minutes)

>>2748424
>Wait for her to calm down, patiently explain the situation ask her why she’s afraid (-20 minutes)

Oh fuck, wait a minute. I just realized this could bode very poorly if this actually works. The creepy dude is going to want to know what the ingredients in the cure is and we're going to have to tell him elf blood.
This means more enslaved elves and possibly a bad end for Leia.

>>2748458
>The creepy dude
You mean the elf?

>P̶r̶o̶m̶i̶s̶e̶ ̶h̶e̶r̶ ̶a̶ ̶r̶e̶w̶a̶r̶d̶ ̶i̶f̶ ̶s̶h̶e̶ ̶c̶o̶m̶p̶l̶i̶e̶s̶ ̶
>Remind her that she is your slave; she must obey

>What if the toxin was affecting these immunogens?
>Lizard AIDS
----------
>Remind her that she is your slave; she must obey. Propose her another metod of bloddletting and ask her if she can resist something that doesn't involves leaches.

Seabass coaxing his elf into resisting leaches and losing blood, after so much pain and blood she has lost? The same I-lack-soft-skills Alchemist?
Sorry but this won't do.

>>2748343
>>2748424
haaahahaha looks like that perk got some work done.

>>2748347
Are you telling me this is AIDS? How the fuck are we going to-
>>2748424
oh. Shit.

>>2748424
>The Lizard is dying, Leia. This could save him.
>go over other means of bloodletting

>>2748458
FUG. Can't we use hair or saliva or something? I ain't no scientist, but perhaps what is needed isn't necessarily blood...

>>2748486
If it's AIDS, blood is the only thing that will MAYBE work.

And it's unlikely to ever be a complete cure. At best, it will keep him alive for another few days. Transplanting bone marrow for a more permanent cure sounds......unwise. For several, several reasons.

>>2748476
It's not AIDS. It's LIZARD AIDS.

>>2748499
This shit is magic nigga. We made potions and stuff with hair and stuff, I don't see why it shouldn't work here unless there is more things we dunno about.

You lift her from the floor, but her knees seem to have lost what little strength they possessed. You carry her to the sofa and give your handkerchief. “I’m sorry.” She says. “I’m sorry.” Over and over again.

“It’s alright.” You are cold. Sympathy and empathy have left you; doesn’t she understand that there’s no time? No time for her foolishness. You start feeling a strange hatred against her, but really it's for yourself, because you were the one that wasted all this time. The one that missed a solution so obvious and easy a child could have seen it. Idiot!

You wait until she calms a little and then you explain what you’re going to do, patiently and clinically, without emotion. Her blood is the cure, more or less. That is, if Mr. Glossman’s blood immunogen theory actually holds water. It’s well known that Elven blood has magical properties. In small amounts, mixed with other restorative agents, it can cure even major infections. Chimia is currently working on a skin cream based off the stuff that treats warts and pimples. It’s chief property is it’s mutability, its power to adapt to whatever its exposed to.

Thus, you’ll expose it to the toxin. The immunogens in the blood, bolstered by magic, should adapt and destroy it without being destroyed themselves. As a consequence it might mean that your Elf is immune to the toxin--or indeed any toxin that’s slow acting. Well, that said, it’s a gamble. But the good Glossman hasn’t been wrong yet, even if his other ideas are a little out there.

You explain all this to her and there is no warmth in your words, because there is no time for these explanations and you are rapidly losing your reserves of patience. And there is some measure of secret relief in her (at what you don’t know) but she’s still deathly afraid.

It’s the starleeches themselves which invoke this fear. You still your temper and listen and are rewarded by the tale of yet another instrument of torture. Not of her own flesh, that was too merciful, but the flesh of pets and animals that he would buy her. Parakeets and little calico kittens which she would nurse and care for and when he had determined that she was in love, would dismantle by the cruel way of exsanguination. Only bags of skin and bone would remain and the swollen bodies of the starleeches, pulsating with stolen blood on their surface. For what purpose? To revel in the hideous knowledge that her love had killed it’s object. To enjoy that despair.

>>2748528
Time is a factor. Whatever potions you're thinking of, we need to try the blood NOW.

>>2748529
Eventually she stopped falling for it, closed her heart to all of it even the softness of their down and fur which she loved best yet, the fear of these bloodletters remained.

“Please, master. Isn’t there another way?”

There is of course. There always is. But the risks are never equal either. You could infect her with the toxin. There’s an, admittedly unproven theory, proposed after Avograd and Han, that all humours carry similar characteristics. Saliva is as good as blood. But you’d have to infect her and you’d have to wait. And if you’re wrong?

The death of some lizard, might bear heavily on your soul--for a time. But the death of your slave, would that ever go?

After all...you paid six whole sovereigns for her.

>2 hours 40 minutes left
>Infect her
>Attempt to convince her (-20 minutes)
>No more discussion; Get the starleeches and the iodine and strap her down if you have to. (-30 minutes)

>>2748535
>Attempt to convince her (-20 minutes)

>>2748535
>Attempt to convince her (-20 minutes)
fiiiiine, play nice. Infecting her is 3 steps past Bad Idea and well into Smash Head Into Wall. Losing a bit of blood is much, MUCH safer, even for someone malnourished.

>>2748535
>Attempt to convince her (-20 minutes)

Welcome back! I'm glad I caught the thread.

>>2748535
Why can't Seabass just cut her hnnnnnnggg. She could cut herself hnnnnng she probably has done it before.

Sorry Leia

>Put a startleeche in your arm. Ask her to put one in her. Put another one in your arm if she refuses. Repeat.

>>2748535
>Attempt to convince her (-20 minutes)
Oh my god you're back Watdo holy shit why did you not post in /qtg/ again fucking christ on a pogo stick my dude

>>2748550
That would be extremely wasteful of blood and would risk her life with blood loss.

Considering the circumstances though, it might still be better.

>>2748550
Evil. Supporting

>>2748550
wait, SEABASS's arm. Well.

.....genius.

>>2748535
changing >>2748546 to support

>>2748550
>>2748553
>>2748558
>>2748565

I'm gonna close vote here before it changes because I love this idea.

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>>2748570
>tfw when we slowly raise her with a deeply ingrained desire for our approval, desperate for our attention and praise, to make up for whatever perceived burden she gave us, constructed or otherwise, until she is at the ripe age of sexual maturity which we will then proceed to swoop down from our perch and marry her off to a sweet young lad who will take care of her.

>>2748550
Don't... don't do that. Why would you do that. Stop emotionally torturing our already emotionally tortured slave.

>>2748606
But we're torturing with LOVE. It's different.

>>2748625
No, you're just being a manipulative bastard.

>>2748629
It's that or die senpai.

>>2747399
>They had been there a week--though it felt more like two months
Time sure flies doesn't it?

>>2748550
>>2748553
>>2748558
>>2748565

You go and get the jar. Three leeches are clinging to the walls of the glass, 15 arms total stretched out and the skin between them taut like the tarp of a tent.

The valves within you clank with the last drips of your composure; she is your slave but you will not force her. Not by strength anyway.

You lift a leech with a pair of long tweezers. It wraps its arms into itself, trying to protect its sensitive insides, trying to keep the precious anticoagulants and anesthetics moist and ready. You bring the leech nearer to your slave and she shudders and slides back on the sofa.

“There is no other way.” You say. Or at least, nothing that’s as easy or convenient as a starleech. The many suckers on its underside draw blood into a rubbery spherical vestibule in its center, called the “pearl”. The pearl can be removed drained and then put back all without killing the creature. Some care needs to be taken to sever the veins properly or the leech may bleed out--but you really have to make an effort for this to happen. Each leech can draw up to a liter of blood which swells the pearl to fantastic proportions; though for obvious reasons you would never let it feed to capacity. They inject an anesthetic so that there’s never any pain and you’ve never heard of anyone ever getting an infection from drawing blood this way (likely some undiscovered agent in the leech alchemistry) which is an important point, because all other methods have a serious risk of leaving behind nasty infections. The leeches are also easy to breed, cheap, and don’t require much beyond an occasional rat or guinea pig, though they normally they feed on wandering sealife.

They are nature’s gifts to the medicine man and the alchemist. And their perversion into an appliance of horror disgusts you to the core, even more than the horror itself.

“Please master.” Says your Elf, pressing her hands together. She’s still so afraid. But this is the game.

“No?” You place the starleech on your own arm. She screams. You jump in your seat. That was more reaction than you expected. She squeezing her hands into each other, as if trying to combine their mass. You take another leech from the jar. The pearl from the first has started to redden with your blood.

“We don’t have time Leia.” You say. “We really don’t. What your old master did you to was inhuman, but we have to work through the fear and we have to do it right now.”

Her eye swing back and forth from the leech on your arm to the one in the air.

“You’ll die” She whispers, as though the concept of death itself was alien to her until this moment.

“That’s right. Just like all the others.”

“No!” She shrieks. “Please stop!” She clutches her eyes and her hair. Is this really alright? But you’re too far gone now, you can only go further.

1/2

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>>2748732

“I won’t force you. You can see for yourself that it’s nothing. It doesn’t hurt. And I’ll be right here to make sure nothing bad happens. Nothing bad will happen.”

“Take it off.” She begs.

“No.”

“I don’t want master to die. I don’t want master to die.” She shakes her head and moans like it's some mantra.

You lift the starleech to her face. “Give me your arm.” She hesitates, tears flow freely down her face. Silently. “I know you don’t have anything like--well affection, let’s say, for me, but the fact of the matter is if I die, you’ll have a hard time. So--”

She snatches the starleech from the air and slaps it down on her arm.

Then she promptly loses consciousness..

SESSION END

>>2748735
Good shit Watdo. How are things IRL compared to what you told us at the end of the previous thread 2 months ago? Surely better enough that you can run again?

>>2748735
well, shit.
Though it is par for the course. Good run watdo.

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>>2748735
Our poor elf. How cruel.

Thanks for running, dude. Are you back for good now? Or at least for a good while?

>>2748735
OOC: Next session is next Saturday 8 AM PST as usual (it feels pretty good to say that again). Thanks for playing (and posting and reading and lurking). I hope you're all enjoying the quest!

>>2748740
>>2748751

Indeed. Found a brand new lab so I'm not out of the game just yet (though it was close for while). Reasons for why I started the quest in the first place (or continued it rather) haven't changed unfortunately (or fortunately?). But still, it's good to be back and I should be here for a while, knock on wood.

My plan is to finish this quest up (or least this arc and then we'll see where it goes from there) and then try some other stuff I had brewing while looking for another lab and planning insurance fraud and generally hating myself.

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>>2748762
>(or least this arc and then we'll see where it goes from there)
Yes multiple arcs please thank

>>2748762
How much longer is grad school gonna take? Contemplating murder for money is never the start of anything good or worthwhile.

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>>2748778
>How much longer is grad school gonna take?
At the rate I'm going, pic related. Probably another 4 years.

>spoiler
I ended up selling what I was going to kill, which was probably a better move

>>2748785
Wait, what.

>>2748812
Sounds like prostitution.

Damn I missed the first session back

>>2748735
As always, you didn't disappoint Watdo. Glad to see one of qst's best back on It's feet. Hope things are going well for you IRL and see you next week.

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>>2748732
>“You’ll die” She whispers, as though the concept of death itself was alien to her until this moment.
>“That’s right. Just like all the others.”
Seabass went too far with that one desu. That was cold as fuck.

Thank you for running OP. Love the quest. :)

>>2748735
Stone fucking cold
We gotta pay her back sometime since we crossed a line, whats the difference between physical and emotional abuse?
We are better than that.

Ya this was fucked up and pretty disturbing.

>>2751308
But also entirely in character, which is the best part

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> elf PoV
> she's super cute
> Seabass makes her do stuff that terrifies her by playing on the fact that she cares about him
O- okay.

It's a good pain.

>>2750262
I didn't get the chance to join in but you have to admit seabass had a pretty good reason to do it, it is literally life or death for the lizard and we've got a couple hours left to figure out a cure.

>>2751650
The road to hell is paved with good intentions.

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>>2751650
Yeah, but at the cost of emotionally manipulating and damaging the trust of an already emotionally damaged, untrusting elf.

>>2751664
You're also forgetting this is LITERALLY reptillian AIDS we're dealing with. The symptoms are the same, the action is the same, everything is the same. This is serious shit we're dealing with. Our elf will be fine after, but no one else will if we can't get a cure.

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>>2751668
desu we easily could've convinced her without manipulating her emotions and gotten the same result, she practically idolizes and loves Seabass. It was unnecessary.
And it'll be sad when the lizard dies, but our 'boss' will undoubtedly just come by with another sickly, dying lizard and tell us to try again.

BE NICE TO ELF.

I'm >>2751664 by the way. Just in case my ID switched on me.

Wow, I was just thinking about how much I loved this quest the other day.

Good to have you back, Watdo.

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>>2751682
>And it'll be sad when the lizard dies, but our 'boss' will undoubtedly just come by with another sickly, dying lizard and tell us to try again.
>"Yeah whatever, so what if the sentient lizard man dies horrifically, we'll just get another to save. Clearly being nice and soft on our elf friend is much more important than another person's life."
Dude...

>>2751748
The dude is gonna die anyways, even if we get a cure he's only got hours.

>>2751802
That's why they went with making the elf use the leech, to save time and try and save the lizard. That was the entire point.

>>2752174
It's too late, Anon. We might get a cure but the lizard is most definitely going to die.
Riparoni

>>2752190
Don’t be a quitter, fag.

So, let’s say the elf blood derived cure saves the lizard. I’m guessing we want to refine another cure based on immunized lizard afterwards so that we don’t create (even more) demand for elven blood. And bullshit up how we immunized the lizard in the first place.

Also hug the elf to consciousness while waiting for first shot at cure to take effect.

>>2752498
That's definitely a good idea. We don't want anybody, especially our employer, tracing the cure back to elf's blood.

>>2747399
Waaaaaaat!!!!!!!

>>2752520
Yeah, I also am worried about that, same with the hair fiasco.
We gotta keep this secret or elf slavery will skyrocket.

Lawson gave the lizards AIDS? I wonder how!
>>2751682
>>2752498
Yes PROTEC ELF

>>2752498
This this this

>>2752498
+1

Welcome back Watdo, I really missed this quest.

So, I had this grand plan for when this quest returned that amounted to busting out the fairy-wing-spectrometer (alchemiloupe?) to determine the composition of the "reptilian blood diamond" using the blood distillates and electrophoresis worms. Watdo tipped his hand that we were dealing with an autoimmune disorder in the last thread when he talked about looking at immunology papers a couple posts after describing how the rats developed an array of symptoms, but the fact that the worms separated the pathogen into three distinct substances that are otherwise inert suggests that whatever is going on is a little more complicated than retroviruses floating in the bloodstream (I mean there is clearly a communicable element to the disease but from what I understand the worms aren't breaking things down so much as separating by size). Taking a shot in the dark here, I'd guess that Lawson's "cure" is some sort of non-toxic compound that harmlessly reacts with one or more of these inert substances preventing the deleterious mix from forming but there is some reservoir for the disease in the body (that healing magic can purge) requiring ongoing reliance on the "cure".

But we timeskipped a week so I can't test any of this, so let's administer some of Lawson's medicine if we have access to any and hope for the best.

>>2753420
Meanwhile, I am wondering about Leia's three sizes

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>>2753958
Truly a noble endeavor to discover.
Although in terms of body shape and size, she probably looks a little something like this, what with her malnourishment and all. Though she is apparently starting to finally gain a little fat from home cooked meals.

Rolled 34, 99, 93 = 226 (3d100)

>>2753996
Oooh. Hmm. What if we go with... 3d100

>>2754009
The dice on this quest are cursed

>>2754011
But... you rolled two 90s.

>>2754020
I rolled an orc lady not an elf girl

>>2754021
Explain your rolls to me.

>>2754020
>>2754023
this is so /qst/
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bust/waist/hip_measurements

>>2754009

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!! SHES A WOBBLE DOLL!

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>>2754009
What have you done.

>>2754091
Stop. Elf is not for bully.

Rolled 45, 20, 29 = 94 (3d100)

>>2754009

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>>2754318
Does this mean our elf is... top heavy? If you know what I'm saying.

>>2754386
S T H I C C Oppai Elf

>>2747399
Probably gonna catch up on this thread tomorrow, but I’d just like to say thank god this is back. I’ve been reading fuck quest and that is lagit fucking with my head. I just wanted to fap man.

>>2754637
Speaking of;

>>2747399
Your archive link is linking to /tg/ archive, which means people can't actually vote on your threads.

>>2754640
Oh fuck, Watdo has been archiving /qst/ threads on /tg/ archive and not /qst/ archive the whole time? No fucking wonder.
He should be using http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/requestqstinterface.html? to add shit to /qst/ archive, but he must have been using http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/requestinterface.html? which is for the /tg/ archive instead. God fucking damnit. The archived threads still show up in /qst/ archive anyway, but no one can vote them unless you find them in the /qst/ archive itself and vote manually

WAIT NVM THE LINK IN THE OP MIGHT JUST BE WRONG
USE http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=watdo INSTEAD, THIS WORKS

>>2749814
He doesn't know about the pets, anon. Seabass meant everyone infected with the poison.

>>2755648
What a glorious misunderstanding

>>2755648
But we aren't poisoned.

>>2755648
i think sebass meant that everyone dies in general. not just the ones that were poisoned.

>>2755648
Yes he does, she told him

>>2756659
Oh right, I misread.

>>2752498
Supporting. Lets hold her for awhile and say that we are sorry

>>2752498
>Also hug the elf to consciousness while waiting for first shot at cure to take effect.
If for whatever reason it looks like we can't be there when she wakes up then we should at least leave a proper note for her saying that we're fine and we're proud of how brave she was so she doesn't panic.

>>2752498
This works yeah

>>2752498
this

>>2765150