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>>2829491

The answer is simple and flat, but for something of his power the simple act of not knowing much strike some terror into him. In fact, you watch as your dealer summoned armour begins to fade from reality, leaving you nearly nude with a cowering Foxhawk Cub clinging to your abs like his life depended on it.

Like the previous backlash was nothing but an appetiser, the next onrushing wall of emerald forces you onto your back, head slamming against the cobbles. Normally such an impact would be trifling, but when the impact reaches your skull it dazes you.

What mortal madness is this? A Temporal Dispel ri-

In a feeling that will always remain with you, you feel the dealer being forced deeper into your soul. Glass arcs through every nerve ending and your organs are ground into dust under the immense internal pressure as whatever ritual he identified finally gains purchase on him. You are forced to lie on your back and simply endure this magical torture.

A part of you realises that this isn’t even the brunt of the magic; just what shockwaves are sent out by the ritual. Halfway across the city, Lexington’s magic is doing this to you?

“And I thought I could take him…” You gasp, deaf to the landing of a newcomer to the scene.

The foxman approaches you, slinging a gun over his shoulder and tilting his head. “Yer not dead are you?” Tornin asks, the uniform really undermining his usual rough and tumble appearance.

The only response you manage is a strained growl.

“And people say we’re animals.” He deadpans. Despite his blase attitude his silver blue eyes are assessing your form. For once there’s no attraction or anger in him, just concern. “I don’t see what’s doing this to you but I’m going to take you to the healers. If that’s a bad idea, do your creepy growl thing again.”

> Do your creepy growl thing again

> Do your best to soothe Fox while he carries you

> Try to speak

> Close your eyes and endure the pain

> Write-In

>>2829496
>> Do your best to soothe Fox while he carries you

>>2829496
> Do your best to soothe Fox while he carries you

>>2829549
>>2829513

Calling in 10.

>>2829496
> Do your best to soothe Fox while he carries you
When was the last thread and what happened in it

>>2829606

I had to go work; we chased the hooded lady and she blew up the building we caught her on top of.

Lex's ritual then fired and fucked us up somehow.

>>2829549
>>2829513

Writing now.

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>>2829606
>>2829549
>>2829513

As Tornin waits for a response, all you do is focus on Fox.The poor thing is terrified, and looks like he’s about to lunge at your erstwhile good Samaritan. Even though the disconcerting disconnect and delay between thought and action makes you wonder just how much the Dealer’s power is responsible for your physical wellbeing - you stretch a finger to the Foxhawk’s neck, giving him a reassuring stroke as often as you can muster the effort to move that finger.

For your efforts Fox flaps his wings for extra height each jump, moving up from your stomach to nestle on your shoulder, eyes watching Tornin like a suspicious father while he works you onto your front and then his back. “Minerva help me you’re a handful.” He grumbles, “I swear you just go out of your way to pick fights with everyone and then act surprised when you get roughed up.”
Fox perfectly vocalises your disagreement with that notion, his avian cry expressing displeasure in ways people can’t. “Yeah, yeah critter I know. She’s tough enough to do what she wants; just don’t like her looking like this.”

> [LUST] Liar

> [PRIDE] Nod and try to look dignified while being carried over his shoulders

> [CURIOSITY] Look towards the healer tents

> [FRUSTRATION] Me neither

> Write-In

>>2829667
>> [LUST] Liar

>>2829667
>> [LUST] Liar

>>2829678
>>2829675

Heading for a shower. Will update afterwards.

>>2829616
Oh my iv missed aome things last thing i rember is planing to kill goblins

>>2829667
CURIOSITY] Look towards the healer tents

>>2829905
>>2829902
>>2829678
>>2829675

Sorry for delay, writing now.

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>>2829978
>>2829905
>>2829902
>>2829678
>>2829675

“Liar.” You grumble. “You love the view…”

Tornin laughs, “Well, if you weren’t struggling to speak maybe I’d be willing to enjoy myself.” He’s sweating heavily from your weight, apparently whatever training he’s undergone was not very strength focused.

Every street you both cross is exceptionally slow in the passing, with Fox even gliding down to the street and scouting out the territory ahead out of sheer restlessness. Your strength recovers somewhat during the approach, but it’s still unsettling to feel that delay between intent and action.

The jungle of tents envelops your party gradually, with one of the many swarming healers taking you from Tornin’s shoulders. With all the dignity of a sack of potatoes, you are bundled on what feels like a wheeled slab of marble and sent towards a ten filled with men and women of all species. The smell of death and blood hangs in the air as you see those whose remaining time can be measured in hours or minutes being evaluated by graying and hard eyed healers. Even from here you can feel the weight of their decisions, each and every one of the experienced hands trying to determine if they can save them. Or if they should even try.

Once you’ve been positioned in a red painted square, your escort rushes back outside with intent to find more patients for this tent of suffering and sickness. In the corner you spot a halfling, nursing his own severed hand but otherwise seemingly fine. A healer’s glowing hands working on the red stump left behind to the best of their abilities.

Looking around you realise that you are truly the healthiest patient here; all of your limbs are in the correct position, bones intact and no organs have been spilled in a pile of blood around your bed. With Tornin being refused entry at the entrance to the medical tent, you’re all alone. Fox having been forced into Tornin’s custody for a brief while.

> [DETERMINATION] Time to stand up and leave.

> [PRIDE] Demand to see the head healer. You’re supposed to lead the entry team soon.
> [SHAME] Accept your fate and wait for treatment.

> [CURIOSITY] Investigate the potions by your bed

> Write-In

God I struggled to write this one.

>>2830255
>> [SHAME] Accept your fate and wait for treatment.

>>2830255
> [SHAME] Accept your fate and wait for treatment.

>>2830299
>>2830279

Gonna update in 10, maybe last one for the night because I'm struggling.

>>2830299
>>2830279

Totally didn't fall asleep.

Time seems to work differently within the canvases of a medical tent; it seems like there isn’t enough of it for those working tirelessly to save the lives around you. Surgeons, healers and apothecaries all caked in sweat, blood and viscera as they all fight against the odds to save the lives of those heroes who threw themselves against the goblinoid menace.

While you lie in a state of frustrating impotence, a minotaur across the aisle breaths his last as the acid damage proves too much for his hulking frame to cope with. A pair of healer’s restrain a woman who is trying to rise and fight nonexistent enemies, her screams of fury unsilenced until a third body pours a potion down her throat; whatever concoction within allowing the woman’s mangled skull to start knitting itself together again.

Eventually someone comes over to you, a firm hand on your shoulder forcing you to lie flat as they perform a series of irritating tests. Clicked fingers, examining your eyeballs, visually examining all of the fading scars and open wounds across your body. His gaze is almost bored as he applies a orange paste to those wounds that still bleed and you find aches and pains you never even acknowledged fading.

“Divine magic gone while you were running on it?” He asks, the redheaded man receiving a silent nod in return.

“Walk it off. The more you move the more you’ll get used to not being hopped up on god juice.” Again those strangely smooth but strong hands grasp your shoulders, this time helping you to your feet. As if rehearsed, a young woman hands over an Inquisition uniform, the striking blacks and whites catching your attention. Without warning the doctor pushes you towards them; your body thankfully reacting in time to prevent more than stumbling.

“What the-” You whirl quickly, before realising that the strange disconnect is lessening slightly.

“Walk. It. Off.” He reiterates, “And stop taking us away from someone who we could actually save.”

The nurse presses the reinforced robes into your hands, before scarpering off; updating the doctor on some kind of Snake lady whose tail has been crushed as they depart. Leaving you to yourself in order to don the garb of the inquisition.

Now looking like the acolyte of Minerva you truly are, you shakily begin walking to the entrance of the medical tent. Your gaze is firmly locked between your feet and even you aren’t sure if it’s pure practicality or feeling ashamed at the seriousness of those whose treatment you may have delayed.

> [PRIDE] You can make up for it, find the away team rendezvous point

> [CURIOSITY] You should probably find Tornin, he has your pet.

> [DETERMINATION] Move quickly toward the barrier, shake this fog off ASAP

> Seek someone out (who?)

> Write-In

>>2831588
>> [PRIDE] You can make up for it, find the away team rendezvous point

>>2831588
> [CURIOSITY] You should probably find Tornin, he has your pet.

Y must you lie to me

>>2832084
>>2831591

We're tied.

>>2831588
> [CURIOSITY] You should probably find Tornin, he has your pet.

>>2832817
>>2832084
>>2831591

Alright, time to find The Foxboy and Fox.

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>>2832817
>>2832084
>>2831591

Emerging from the tent as one of the many inquisition members is a different feeling, something as simple as a set of robes making you feel like you actually belong here; rather than being some kind of hanger on or interloper in their midst. Those who aren’t able to piece together the fact you’re the woman they’ve dubbed Minerva’s champion look at you with respect.

There’s no awe, distrust or even admiration. Just flat and equal respect, a strange even playing field that you confess to revelling in. Everywhere you go it’s polite nods and words of blessing, common among the veterans of the inquisition. In fact you find yourself briefly losing track of your mission to have a conversation with a particularly cheerful Orc grilling a piece of goblin over his fire.

It’s the sound of lightning striking through the sky that reminds you that there is a timer on your hunt, one that thankfully is not pressed any further when you witness the most peculiar game of cat and mouse; Tornin nimbly hopping across tent to tent trying to catch the Foxhawk who is eluding his grasp with almost effortless adjustments to his-

“YOUR WINGS ARE WORKING!” You find yourself crying out and pointing into the sky, “Well done Fox, look at you so big and strong!” As if he hears you from this distance he angles his wings to catch a breeze that carries him toward you. The Cub swooping down into your arms with a fierce cry that would send rodents running for days around.

As he swoops into your embrace, you spin him around and laugh at his proud preening posture. Tornin swearing an oath to pluck every strand of fur or feather from his back as he approaches unaware of who you are.

“Excuse me, I need that little rode-” You turn, “delightful little ball of fur and claws!” Tornin attempts to save horribly.

> [CURIOSITY] How many other people with purple hair do you know?

> [PRIDE] He’s the best boy, yes.

> [ANGER] Call him a rodent and I’ll rip out your tail.

> [GRATITUDE] Thanks for looking after Fox.

> Write-In

>>2833453
[PRIDE] He’s the best boy, yes.
Thank you
Care for a dance?

>>2833453
>> [PRIDE] He’s the best boy, yes.

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>>2838162
>>2833812

“Hey is absolutely the best boy.” You baby talk while petting your Foxhawk, the furious little angel puffing himself up as he curls around your arm and takes flight around your head, “And he’ll make a fine companion for the coming battle.”

“Wait, fight? I thought the wizards were handling everything? Why would you be-” He frowns, “Are ye even listening to me Purps?”

“Yes.” You respond.

Tornin to his credit keeps his face pretty composed, “Okay, why are you going to fight?”

“Because that is the plan.”

“Whose plan is it?”

“The inquisition’s.” You idly respond watching Fox fly while walking to the centre of camp.

He sounds shocked while following along; “The inquisitions plan? What you work for them now? What happened to yer studying or yer girlfriend?”

“I don’t work for them. I will be studying and..” You don’t have words for the next subject, instead opting to change the subject, “And as long as Minerva’s finest desire my cooperation they shall have it. Especially-”

“Considering they all worship the ground ye walk on, “Champion”” Tornin states with a snort, a cold glance over your shoulder revealing him walking across a tightrope between tents. The carefree and rather irreverent individual that he is, only he can talk poorly of his own Goddess’ holy rites and not have it come across as sacrilegious.

“Well, perhaps next time we cross paths at a festival of fire, your dancing will get her attention.” With a sultry smile and a lazy wave of your hand you peel off from his path, heading towards the cluster of individuals gathering around near the barrier. Their intent to enter obvious.

> Stand with Warlord Chiron

> Try and get a word with Lexington

> See if Hona will talk to you

> The Survival teacher, the orc seems to be coming along

> That redheaded Second year looks eager to avenge the bloodied bandage on her shoulder.

> Write-In

>>2840415
>> That redheaded Second year looks eager to avenge the bloodied bandage on her shoulder.
I know a certain someone that'll enjoy this option. Hope he see's it.

>>2840415
> That redheaded Second year looks eager to avenge the bloodied bandage on her shoulder.

>>2840415
That redheaded Second year looks eager to avenge the bloodied bandage on her shoulder

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>>2840555
>>2840547
>>2840421

As you intermingle with the rest of the away party you can’t help but shoot a look towards Honamurei, the blonde doing her utmost to stare a hole through the barrier and ensure her eye does not even slightly waver in your direction. From the tightness around her mouth, you see that she is very much aware of your presence and very much ignoring you.

Instead you look around for something to distract you from the blue and white storms that are roiling and combining within the barrier, finding the redhead second year you encountered earlier pacing back and forth like a caged beast. A bandage around her shoulder has a long crimson streak where some Goblin gave her what you’d assume to be a fatal wound were it not for the fact she lives, breathes and curses before you now.

She has been marching her own miniature trail for so long that she is in fact wearing down the packed dirt almost into a complete trail of four or five of her paces. “By Minerva you’re stubborn.” You note, taking in the freshly sharpened weapons. “Are you sure you should be a part of this?”

She turns to glare at you, “I’ve got scores to settle, and you don’t settle scores in the sick bay.”

“You can’t settle scores when you’re dead.” You counter, crossing your arms and standing at one end of her patrol route.

“Well, I might not be a decent healer but I’m good enough to be in fighting condition.” She growls, “And it’d do you good to remember your better Purps.”

Apparently self healing yourself from what looks like a clean impaled shoulder is not decent healing. This girl seems to hold herself to a standard of competence that is quite frankly ridiculous and you manage to hold the depth of how impressive she must be to make such a comment behind a blank face. It would be interesting to fight her, someday. “Well, all I’m saying is that I’d rather not have to save you, Jul. In fact, I’d be upset if you got yourself killed before I could teach you who’s actually your better.”

She grins at your words, revealing slightly sharp teeth, “You speak well Firstie, just make sure none of those orange fuckers gets their claws into me again and I’ll happily cut you up.”

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>>2845643

Chiron makes a snort of amusement, “Betters. Kids these days eh?” She nudges the orc standing beside her, “Eh?”

The orc just sniffs the air and spits in response. Seemingly unwilling to back up his colleague, they are all caught unawares by the ritual; Haryan’s abilities are almost as potent as Professor Lexington’s. All sound and light in the world replaced by a simple and deep blue that is so all encompassing that you begin to wonder if you have been slain again.

But then, then the energy that has nestled all around detonates into stunning white, punctuated by a thousand shades of black. A street artist’s entire palette is stretched out throughout the world and drinks you all in like a cup of warm wine on a winter’s evening. A silence falling upon all of you as the Barrier is torn asunder all over by the display. Colour bleeds back into the world; the absence of sound becoming all the more poignant as seconds crawl past you.

In the instant that blue exploded into white, you saw something.

> A familiar figure, but changed.

> A monster of tremendous size, limbs prepared for battle

> A dwarf, old and wizened

> Honamurei, facing down a God.

>>2845645
>> A familiar figure, but changed.

>>2845645
> A familiar figure, but changed.
Oh no is undead loc isnt it

>>2845645

> A familiar figure, but changed.

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>>2845848
>>2845679
>>2845655

In that moment of purity, where the walls came tumbling down you see sights that you shouldn’t. Your gaze is transported across the planes and towards the space in between, indistinct shapes, concepts and sensations all being left in your wake as something rockets you towards nothing.

And in that nothingness a man is chained to the blackness that surrounds him. Each chain pierces the form through the wrists and calves before wrapping around the limbs. The right side of the form bathed in the glow of Minerva, though it clutches a red candle. The left side glows with Octavius’ fire and fury while clutching an orange lantern.

Though it is perfectly smooth and genderless, you know the figure to be masculine. He is trapped, trapped between two Gods with no mouth to speak or eyes to see. Caught between two brilliant lights in the darkest void, alone and seeing nothing but black.

And then colour returns, allowing your party to advance. The cabin that was your disguised home partially collapsed under the magical onslaught that has left the caravansary a smoking wasteland of glass, fire and cooked corpses. The goblinoid and inquisition remains that were not totally obliterated lie scattered throughout, punctuating the gruesome picture of war before you. None are intact, none are anything but black smoking husks.

Inquisitor Tarth silently draws her blade, moving with speed and caution as she makes gestures of command that Chiron and Zar Tan follow her closely; leaving Honamurei and Jul Dyn to take up positions on the flanks. No sound reaches you, so you are mostly able to follow your own path.

> [DETERMINATION] Make straight for the storehouse to get that orb.

> [PRIDE] Stick with Tarth and the commanders
> [WORRY] Hang back in case of ambush. Watch everyone’s backs.

> [FRUSTRATION] Loudly demand to know what the plan is.

> Write-In

>>2849496
[DETERMINATION] Make straight for the storehouse to get that orb

>>2849496
> [FRUSTRATION] Loudly demand to know what the plan is.
I have no idea what is going on. If we mess with the orb is lex just going to yell at us?

>>2850854

Objective is to make sure the breach is sealed. Lex's portal orb seemed to go haywire which let the goblins in. Last few threads have been super short so I'd reccomend a quick skim.

Not writing yet as it's 4am and ive only been home 30 mins.

When I wake tomorrow I'll get something done.

>>2849496
>> [DETERMINATION] Make straight for the storehouse to get that orb.

>>2851459
>>2850854
>>2849536

1d20 best of 3.

Rolled 6 (1d20)

>>2852294

Rolled 15 (1d20)

>>2852294
AAAAAHHHHHHHH

1 more roll. It'll be auto called after three.

I'll write after Warhammer tonight.

Rolled 13 (1d20)

>>2852294
Were gonna die again.

Rolled 11 (1d20)

>>2852294

>>2853075
Not today that sexy 15

>>2855363
>>2855350
>>2852301
>>2852300
Home from work. Result is a 15. Will write when I can.

The warhammer bossfight was 4.5 hours so I fell asleep after, I'm sorry I neglected you anons.

>>2856760
Its ok.
Dod you at leat kill the dem thing?
Any sick loot?