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>Archive: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive.html?tags=Bladebound%20Retainer%20Quest
>Previous Thread: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/3204199/
>>3204199
>Twitter: https://twitter.com/TaskForceKaz
>Pastebin: http://pastebin.com/u/TaskForceKaz

[STATS]
>Combat: +++
>Social: +
>Knowledge: ++

[Abilities/Traits/Perks]
>Indomitable, Rank 1 [Special]: Ignore the penalties imposed by Blood Loss. Does not negate health loss.
>Atelier of Death, Rank 2: Craft your own Bombs and Poisons up to Rank 2 without penalty.
>Blutmörder: +10 to Combat Rolls made against Blutlings and Blood Mages.
>Fleetfooted: If a Natural One would be among any roll related to acrobatic feats both in and out of combat, immediately disregard it and either take the highest roll or reroll again.
>Lone Wolf [Special]: You work best when alone. Take a +15 when fighting by yourself, and a -10 when fighting with more than three allies. Additional ranks increase the bonus, and may decrease the penalty.
>In Plain Sight: >+30 to Disguising/Hiding/Sneaking, Take 75 in non-stressful situations
>Mind of Steel [Special]: Your experiences have led you to be jaded and cynical. Take a +30 to resist attempts, magical or mundane, to try and influence you (i.e. seduction, intimidation, etc.).
>Nimble Fingers 2: +40 to non-attack actions involving your hands (lockpicking, pickpocketing, etc.).
>Knowledge: Nobility (Aderaveth): Take a flat 50 to Knowledge rolls concerning this subject.
>Knowledge: Underworld (Aderaveth): Take a flat 50 to Knowledge rolls concerning this subject.
>Riding, Rank 2: You are able to ride unassisted, and perform rudimentary skills to obedient horses.
>Specter’s Dream [SPECIAL]: A technique to allow one to rest while remaining aware of one’s surroundings. (4/8/12 hour intervals each with their own bonuses)
>Taste for Magic [Special]: Years of living with a sorceress have instilled a biological reaction in your body whenever you are near magical sources. You can make a Check to identify and distinguish magical auras, with each degree of success yielding additional information.
>Underdog: You have spent many years fighting against opponents bigger and heavier than you, and emerged the victor. Against Large humans or monsters (i.e. in excess of 7 ft. of height and 300 lbs of weight), you gain a +10 to Combat rolls.

You are Marcus Painel, the troubled son of the late assassin Lucien Painel, dead by your own hands at ten. At the age of eighteen, you have already loved and lost, and the blood of dozens stains your hands a crimson red of retribution. But a chance meeting at the brink of death has found you as the bodyguard to Princess Ellana Crowmond, youngest of the royal family of the Aderaveth Empire. Inducted to her service as her Crownguard, you have sworn to keep her safe from harm by whatever means necessary…

(cont.)
>>
First post claiming this thread for Ellana's royal cunny-wunny!
>>
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Continuing from the prior thread, you cracked a portion of the Vasceli contact’s journal and uncovered undeniable proof that Adlerman Giso’s brewery is not as harmless as Carris passed it off to be. Breaking into the building in the dead of night, you discovered a manifesto detailing the contraband he’s smuggled, from narcotics to decadent nobles, weapons to rebel separatists and even human beings to flesh peddlers and slavers.
Now, the unexpected return of the Alderman and his guards has you waiting in the rafters, listening before you make a quick escape.

>Midnight
>Winter 79, 238 ACR

“…ruined, we’re ruined!” The alderman gesticulates wildly, pacing around a large tub of fermenting beer. “Garro said he wouldn’t get caught, but the bastard went and got himself caught. Some hidden agent he turned out to be!”

His henchmen remain undisturbed, but they way they sway side to side, nervously looking from one man to the next breaks any illusion of calm they might appear to put on. Their leader, a grey-haired sergeant, clears his throat, “What’s done is done. But I don’t see him ratting us out-”

“I’m not willing to take that chance. Von Roie is due any day, as early as tomorrow morning. We might’ve made it free if those fucking Crownguard didn’t capture not only the rebel, but the necromancer as well. There’s no fucking way von Roie is just going to let this slide without an investigation. That plucked eagle Pullman might be too honorable for torture, but ohhhhh, not Alistair von fucking Roie.”

The alderman shivers. “I know all too well how quickly he can get people to sing. You weren’t there, Remi. You weren’t there at the Varrian Massacre. I thought the same thing about those Eridian centurions. Too proud and stoic to crack under torture. But then again, I doubt any of the plumed bastards went up against a protégée of the fucking Blood Eagle!”

The Varian Massacre. From what you can remember, that was a battle fought in the middling years of the Bastards’ War, against the loyalist forces and the bastard prince Flavius Aurelius. In the hopes of re-annexing the lands of Vethica back into the Eridian Empire, Emperor Tullius Aquilar supported his nephew’s claim to the Bladebound Throne and sent with him four legions to “civilize the barbarians”.

At first, their initial push had been successful. Archduke Walholant of the River Marches had been steadfastly neutral, refusing to take sides. He cared not who sat on the Throne as long as his lands were left alone. That was, of course, until twenty thousand legionnaires marched right over the mountains and began a campaign of terror against the descendants of the Galatarian tribes.

Realizing that he had no chance of victory if the Eridians established a foothold in his land, the Old Kingfisher struck a deal. Whoever was the first to come to his aid, be it loyalist or any bastard prince, he would commit his banners and men to their cause.

(cont.)
>>
It would be Alaric von Roie, an unlanded commander of a Tarmund cadet branch, and his sons Alger and Alistair, who would answer the call on behalf of Leonhardrt Crowmond. They rode swiftly, marshalling a force that raced through the Midlands as fast as they could, purchasing new horses where they could and stealing when they could not. More than once, they had to fight off an advanced party belonging to any other bastard prince, but they emerged victorious.

“Welcome, my Emperor. I am Aleric von Roie, and I bid you welcome to your rightful lands. The peoples of Vethica have long since struggled against the Crowmond yoke, and yearn for the blessings of Eridia…come, your supporters are waiting!”

It was a deception, but it turned the tide of battle. Aurelius became enamored with the idea, and against the warnings of his centurions and advisors, took both von Roies into close confidence. Pretending to lead Aurelius through the treacherous depths of the Köingswald, it would only be until the last moment before the bastard prince realized he’d been lead into a trap by his so-called supporters.

The ensuing battle was hardly more than a slaughter. The formations of the legionnaires were useless in the thick copses and thickets of the ancient Köingswald, older than even the time of Dragonfall. They were set upon by knights and barbarians, nobles and commoners, dressed in furs and painted faces and howling like their ancestors had once been. Only three thousand and Aurelius fled back to Eridia, another five thousand were made prisoners. Twelve thousand sons of the eagle made their graves in the Köingswald, watering the trees with their lifeblood alongside only a mere two thousand sons of Vethica.

The Old Kingfisher groused, but he kept his end of the deal, and rode out to support Leonhardt Crowmond. For this great deed, the von Roies were given the duchy of Giseler and noble rank, taking the mockingbird as the sigil of their house. Although there were some who whispered that the shrike was more appropriate, given how brutally they tortured their prisoners for information about bastard prince Aurelius. Their screams are still said to echo through the boughs and trees of the Köingswald…

Giso shudders. “If he finds out what we did…burn everything. Nothing must remain. Gather what you can carry and several axes. The river should be clear enough for the barge, but there’s no telling if there’s still any ice.”

The sergeant frowns, first glancing up towards the windows and, perilously, towards the rafters. Stilling yourself and closing your eyes, you hold your breath, not making a single movement until he finishes talking. “It will take a while for the flames to climb that high. No chance in them catching, either. Not with how wet it’s recently.”

“Use whatever we have available. There’s no shortage of alcohol.”

Remi nods, but hesitates, before asking, “…and the girl?”

(cont.)
>>
>>3242438
We should probably attack them now and capture Giso. That, or throw a bomb down there.
>>
>>3242438
VARUS
MY LEGIONS
>>
>>3242438
“What girl? We’ve been working on several for the last couple of months-”

“The whore, sir. The one that Hennek’s been protecting at the inn-”

The alderman snaps his fingers in realization. “Carris! Carris Narten. Right, the one marked for the auction. Yes, what about her?”

“…begging your pardon, sir, but it just seems like a waste to just leave her-”

Giso regards the man with a look of utter disdain. “Don’t tell me you’ve gone all soft and fallen in love, Remi…oh, wait. You’re already soft. That blonde sow is the only one within fifty miles who can get you up. I keep finding your tooth-marked coins in her tithe come taxing day.”

What nervous chuckles escape the men’s lips are quickly silenced by their Remi’s frosty glare. “No, I’ve not gone soft. What I mean is that if we can take what we can carry, me and the boys are more than willing to ‘share the burden’, ain’t that right, lads?”

His question is met with nods of affirmation and no shortage of lecherous stares, derision quickly changing to enthusiasm and murmurs of approval.

“…oh, very well,” he relents, rolling his eyes in resignation. “But for gods’ sake, keep it quiet! Any screams come out of her mouth, and we’re as good as dead. I’ll kill her myself if you can’t keep her quiet.”

A nasty glint enters the sergeant’s eye. “Of course. I think we can find something for her to choke on to keep her quiet…”

The wooden rafters groan in protest in the sudden grip you have upon them. Even if your feelings for Carris are…complicated at best, their laughter is too close, too similar to those of the Red Snakes…

Giso almost appears to break into a fit. But he relents, palming his face with a resigned and meaty smack. “…I will cede that she is a good lay, if not bloody expensive. I’ve lost count of how many times she traded a fuck for a tax exemption.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that, sir. We make it out of here, she’ll make more than just our money back.” As the alderman turns to set his affairs in order, the sergeant clasps three men on the shoulder, one by one before intoning, “Bring the girl here. Hennick’s gone to sleep, so that little hut she has right next to the inn should be unprotected. Rough her up, but don’t take your time to have some fun. That comes later once we’re out of this shithole.”

“Aye!” They agree, and as one, they rush out of the brewery with wide grins and leers.

“You four,” Remi says, to the remaining levy, “You heard the boss. Grab a torch and start a slow fire. If we set enough tinder, we should have enough of a blaze to cover our escape down the river…

>>You do not have enough time to react.
>>You may choose only ONE course of action:

>Intercept the renegades before they can hurt Carris.
>Stop Remi and his men before they set the brewery alight.
>Run to Pullman’s camp and prepare the knights for a raid.
>>
>>3242477
What's closer Pullman or the Crownguard?
>>
>>3242477
>Stop Remi and his men before they set the brewery alight.
Carris will get roughed up, but the men will come back here so we can deal with them then.
>>
>>3242485
Pullman's camp. The brewery is on the opposite side of the town where the Crowmonds and the Crownguard are staying.
>>
>>3242477
>Stop Remi and his men before they set the brewery alight.

We can ambush the others when they return. More importantly, the Alderman is here and we can't afford to let him go.

That said, if we can kill these for quickly and cripple the Alderman, we might be able to chase after the others.
>>
>>3242477
>Intercept the renegades before they can hurt Carris
>>
>>3242492
>and cripple the Alderman
Yeah smash up his legs and throw him in the office under the bodies.
>>
>>3242477
>Stop Remi and his men before they set the brewery alight.

Bit cruel to leave Carris to the thugs, but this is more important.
>>
Here's an enchanted item the Crownguard should invest in:

Communication brooches. You can speak through them, but that's it.
>>
>>3242477
>Stop Remi and his men before they set the brewery alight.
>>
>>3242496
Adding that this just seems more in character. Especially if we still have the ledger for proof... there doesn’t seem to be a reason to have left it behind after trashing the place.
>>
>>3242477
>Intercept the renegades before they can hurt Carris.
>>
>>3242477
> Intercept the renegades before they can hurt Carris
Fuck.
>>
>>3242522
Yeah I don't really see the point in sticking around, which is why we should have left in the earlier vote. We would have been at Pullman's by now with the raid on it's way.
>>
>>3242487
Changing this, we should have the ledger on us. Besides the burning brewery will be noticeable all over town.

>>3242477
>Intercept the renegades before they can hurt Carris.
They'll probably rape her to death, knowing Marcus' luck.
>>
>>3242522
>>3242531
I mean, you do have the ledger. It's just that the vote last thread called for Marcus to stay around and see what they were up to.
>>
>>3242531
My worry is that Giso will escape.
>>
>>3242536
Well if he does the other Crownguard aren't doing their job. Just saying.
>>
>>3242535
I know that, that's what irritating. We wouldn't be so time crunched right now if people didn't get so greedy. This is the hand we dealt ourselves though.
>>
>>3242539
Where exactly are they again?
>>
>>3242477
Protect! That! Smile!

Sacrificing human lives for the Mission would be something He did. Aren't we supposed to be exorcising that part of ourselves, here, now, redeeming outselves as protectors of the Empire that left us to rot?


>Intercept the renegades before they can hurt Carris.
>>
>>3242535
>>3242540
Well we wouldn’t know they were going for a hostage if we didn’t stick around. I’d call that a fair trade.
>>
>>3242477
>>Stop Remi and his men before they set the brewery alight.
>>
Vote called for rescuing Carris.

Writing...
>>
>>3242542
Guarding the Crowmonds.
>>
>>3242535
Honestly, with how the discussion got cut off midway because the thread fell of the board, you should have let us vote again in this thread.

Oh well.
>>
I wouldn't be surprised if there were slaves in the brewery
>>
>>3242556
That's a fair point. I didn't want to delay advancing the plot by calling for a re-vote. That is food for thought, though. I'll think about keeping that for future threads.
>>
>>3242561
Why and where would he keep them here?
>>
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>>3242496
>>3242526
>>3242530
>>3242532
>>3242544
…never again.

Your limbs are already in motion the second Remi stops talking. Only stopping to check that the ledger is firmly tucked away in your satchel, you abandon nearly all safety and move as fast as you can, back out into a moonless winter night. There is a terrible noise as the grappling hook detaches, hurtling you through the air in a wild, uncontrolled motion, arms flailing about for any grip or hold to break your fall.

At the last second, your hands catch the edge of a thatched hut, and the impact nearly jolts the bone from its socket. But you pull yourself up, one trembling inch at a time before you’re back on the snow-covered roofs. And this time, you take no care in how much noise you make as you sprint with all due haste towards the Riverside Inn.

Westholm is not a large village, but the houses are certainly placed wider than in the city and castle proper. What took you thirty minutes of silence and stealth to reach the brewery, you accomplish in a mere seven minute sprint. And as soon as you see the thatch-and-tile roof of the Riverside Inn, complete with the little sign of the ferryman hanging from the door, you push off from the roof and land back onto the street with a little tumble.

There is no sign of activity in the inn, nothing beyond a small blaze going on in the master bedroom. Just as Remi said, innkeep Hennick’s gone to bed early. Carris doesn’t sleep in the inn proper, but they said she keeps a hut nearby and along the side of the property…
Footsteps in the snow, leaping over the wooden fence, trailing just around the inn. Recent and fresh, no more than a minute old. They only just got here.

You follow quickly, turning ‘round the corner to break into a dead run towards the structures along the side of the inn. There’s a handful of smaller houses, perhaps for chicken coops and other animals, placed right against the building proper. But it’s the buildings furthest away, just almost near the river’s edge, that are properly fit for humans. At least five, but four closed and only one alight and door ajar and broken…

“Why you little-!” The sound of a meaty punch rings out in the night, and a choked cry of pain quickly follows suit. “Teach you to bite when you aren’t supposed to-”

Carris!

The tavern wench is still alive, but bruised, tattered and crying. The front of her blouse has been torn, exposing her breasts to the cool evening air, and to the leering gaze of the men holding her captive. One holds her back, picking her off the floor as his friend pulls back his fist. Another man has his trousers down, but he’s off in the corner, clutching his genitals with bleeding fingers as he curses and spits venom at Carris.

By the time they see you enter, all four surprised and one whose eyes tear with hope and relief, it’s already too late for Giso’s men.

>Roll 1d100+30 Combat.
>Best out of three.
>>
Rolled 34 + 30 (1d100 + 30)

>>3242605
>>
Rolled 81 + 30 (1d100 + 30)

>>3242605
>>
Rolled 26 + 30 (1d100 + 30)

>>3242605
Perish.
>>
>>3242607
>>3242608
>>3242631
Thank god we have one competent roll.
>>
After we kill these guys we need to give Carrie a 'Ill explain later' and run back to the brewery. They said they'd wait for the Carris retrieval team so they might still be there. Even with the time spent fighting us running vs the extra time they would've spent dragging Carris should be close.
>>
>>3242654
We need to tell her to go to the Crowmonds honestly.
We also need a "shut the fuck up and listen" passcode we can give to people for this kind of thing.
>>
>>3242607
>>3242608
>>3242631
It’s not a fight as much as it is a one-sided slaughter. Your blades fly, her dagger in your right and your new dragonbone knife in your left. Giso’s thugs have nothing on them that could possibly hope to protect them against your weapons. Leather armor and padded gambesons part just as easily as a knife might through a fresh loaf of bread.

The first man dies with a knife buried to the hilt in his eye. Brains, blood and gore spill when you jerk it out from his skull, and he collapses into a twitching heap. The second one puts up a fight, managing to strike your shoulder with his dagger. A terrible shame it cannot pierce the Crownguard armor. For his impertinence, you grant him a quick death.

“W-wait, mercy me-” To the man who Carris injured, you give him a second mouth, right across his throat. His plea turns into a pathetic, bubbling gurgle and he falls to the ground, clutching the ruin of his neck in a vain attempt to stop the bleeding.

You haven’t even broken a sweat. Sheathing your blades, you quickly move to unpin your cloak and move towards Carris. She hasn’t moved to cover up. With one eye swollen shut, a singular orb of green stares towards you, but not at you as you drape your cloak around her shoulders, fastening the brooch with blood-slick fingers. It is perfect. No one could possibly miss the sigil of the Crownguard.

Your voice is rough, but your hands are gentle as you place them on her shoulders. “Carris, are you alright?” She offers no response. Cursing under your breath, you shake her, “Carris, I need to-”

Without warning, she flings herself into your arms, sobbing hysterically into your shoulder. For a minute, you freeze, tensing as your hackles raise at the unexpected physical contact. The instinct to throw her off of you grapples wildly with the mess of emotions in your heart, but the better part of valor wins out against your deep-seeded instincts.

“…you’re alright,” you say, returning her embrace, patting her on the back. She cries even harder, staining the metal of your armor with her tears and mucus. Her grip 'round your body is tight, even tighter than at the height of passion, and she refuses to let go. “…you’re alright…”

There is a commotion behind you. You turn, hand at the ready to draw your blade once more. But it is not reinforcements, none of Giso’s thugs you can recognize. It is Hennick, the innkeeper, dressed in his nightclothes and nightcap, wielding a loaded crossbow. Behind him is a portly woman, his wife perhaps, similarly armed with a frying pan.

At the sight of the bodies, their eyes go wide. “What in the name of…” Hennick curses as he seems to recognize one of the men, but then he sees the state of Carris and his features soften immediately. “Oh, lass-”

You grunt, “Giso’s men tried to take her. Your alderman is guilty of high treason, among other capital crimes against the Imperial Crown.”

(cont.)
>>
The man blinks, shocked at your words. But his wife cares little for that, pushing past her husband to move towards Carris. She pays no mind to the bodies, even going so far as to attempt to shoo you as she knees before the woman. But she is unable to cajole her from your arms, no matter what she says or whispers into her ear.

Eventually, Hennick says, disbelievingly, “Our alderman, guilty of treason? I don’t believe it.”

“I have it on good authority that he is,” you answer blithely, sheathing your blade. Patting your belt to confirm the manifest, you gesture towards the bodies. “They thought to take her with them. Escape down by the river.”

It seems to almost be too much for the man. The innkeeper is torn between denial and a sort of paternal rage. “…but…why would they…oh, you bastards just couldn’t take no for an answer, could you…”

Not exactly why they attacked her, but close enough. You have serious doubts that she would have accompanied them willingly, not for all the coin in the world. Her voice is as fragile as glass when she says, “…I’d never been…not like this, I-”

“You’re going to be fine,” you say, a little forcefully, but not unkindly. “They’ll never bother you again after this night. I’ve already seen to that.”

“I…I know, but I was just…there was just so much…and it was all so sudden, I…urp-“

She is at least merciful enough to let go of you before emptying the contents of her stomach. Thankfully, there’s a nearby bucket in her hut, which Hennicks’ wife fetches dutifully to place before Carris’ form. She voids herself until she can spit out nothing anymore, dry heaving into a mess of her own expulsion.

“Ghrk…bleagh…” the whore groans, wiping her mouth with an errant cloth, “…I think…that’s-”

But the words die in her throat. With wide eye and trembling fingers, she points to something behind the two of you. Innkeeper and assassin turn around to a sudden flare of orange light in the night sky. And not mere seconds later, the sound of a bell rings out through the quiet winter evening, along with a great bellowing:

“FIRE! FIRE! FIRE IN THE BREWERY!”

Shit.

>Assemble both groups of Crownguard and Knights for a night raid. [Long]
>Grab the Eagle Knights and accompany them when they’re ready. [Medium]
>Run to Giso's house and have the Crownguard mobilize for battle. [Medium]
>Sprint back to the brewery as fast as you can, all by yourself. [Quick]
>Custom option.
>>
>>3242747
>Sprint back to the brewery as fast as you can, all by yourself. [Quick]

Glad to see we saved another one, now we should do our best to cut off his escape, even if i really wish we could make it more official, it would just take too long
>>
>>3242747
>>Assemble both groups of Crownguard and Knights for a night raid. [Long]

We're gonna do this right, and leave them ZERO avenue to escape. Rats in a maze, they'll be.
>>
>>3242747
>Grab the Eagle Knights and accompany them when they’re ready. [Medium]
>>Sprint back to the brewery as fast as you can, all by yourself. [Quick]

Is it possible to alert Pullman and the Eagle knights, and then head off ourselves to slow them down?
>>
>>3242763
>>3242747
This. We should have knocked Carris TF out instead of dicking around after saving her.

Oh well. Ellana wouldn't have wanted to rule over the bodies of innocents, anyways.

Too bad we don't have any concoctions or poisons or jack squat left after the Drajling fight. Probably could have dropped a hallucination bomb and changed things at the brewery. Or knocked them all out. Or murdalized 'em.
>>
>>3242747
>Sprint back to the brewery as fast as you can, all by yourself. [Quick]
We've already lost enough time, we need to act fast.

Also, don't forget the Lone Wolf that should give us a flat +15 in Combat (which I think Kaz forgot to apply against the thugs).
>>
>>3242747
>Sprint back to the brewery as fast as you can, all by yourself. [Quick]
>>
>>3242747
>>Sprint back to the brewery as fast as you can, all by yourself. [Quick]
>>
>>3242763
This
>>
>>3242747
fuckit

I don't care if you throw on exhaustion penalties, between his anger and the indomitable perk, may as well get into character.

support >>3242763
>>
>>3242763
>Grab the Eagle Knights and accompany them when they’re ready. [Medium]
>>Sprint back to the brewery as fast as you can, all by yourself. [Quick]
>>
>>3242747
>Grab the Eagle Knights and accompany them when they’re ready. [Medium]
>>
>>3242747
>>Sprint back to the brewery as fast as you can, all by yourself. [Quick]
>>
>>3242728
>Sprint back to the brewery as fast as you can, all by yourself. [Quick]
>>
>>3242747
>Tell Hennik to go to the Knights. Tell him to get them over here ASAP, Giso is trying to escape.
>Sprint back to the brewery as fast as you can, all by yourself. [Quick]
>>
>>3242930
Supporting this
>>
>>3242930
>>3242747
This. So much for leaving as soon as we killed these guys.
>>
>>3242997
Meh

We already kbow who to go after further up the chain.

Getting the rest of them is just clean-up. Ultimate we have enough evidence from the ledger alone to wipe them all out.

Fleeing is merely confirmation of guilt.
>>
>>3243005
I'd much rather not let this fucker escape justice.
>>
>>3242747
We more than did our part flying solo, right now we need to keep the others in the loop for this raid to mean anything. Also, we JUST got to prove we weren't a gloryhound last thread.

>Return to Giso's house and have the Crownguard mobilise for battle
>custom: Ask the innkeeper to send someone with a message to Pullman and the Eagle Knights to surround the village and cut off the docks
>>
Looks like the overall vote is [Quick] mixed with sending off a message to the Eagle Knights. Gave myself a mild headache trying to puzzle everything out, but lemme squeeze a quick update before I head off to work.

Writing...
>>
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>>3242752
>>3242763
>>3242826
>>3242827
>>3242837
>>3242880
>>3242881
>>3242884
>>3242918
>>3242925
>>3242930
>>3242974
>>3242997
“Hennick, right?”

He blinks, as if seeing you for the first time properly. Squinting at your features, the innkeeper nearly starts. “I remember you. You’re the one Carris brought in the other day. Bath and chicken, huh?”

“Aye, that’s me.”

Hennick’s mouth twitches in almost a ghost of a wry smile. “Gods above, it was like someone was being murdered in the bathhouse. Gave all of us back in the tavern quite a performance…oh, don’t give me that look, Ser Crownguard. Our walls are wattle and daub. Thick enough to block out the elements but not nearly enough to mute the sounds of extremely vigorous lovemaking…”

In spite of the situation, you can feel the tips of your ears warm in embarrassment, and enough color returns to Carris’ face to dust her cheeks a faint shade of pink. But you shake your head, growling, “There’s a time and place for that, and now isn’t the time.”

Reaching into your pocket, you pull out Giso’s manifest, gesturing for Hennick to take it. “Run as fast as you can to the camp. Bring Carris with you. The brooch on my cloak has the symbol of the Crownguard on it. Tell either the landgraff Pullman or Knight-Captain Ser Hagenson that Marcus Painel sends his regards, and calls upon them to muster.”

“Muster? For what?”

“Giso and his men are trying to escape. Barge down the river while the fire distracts everyone. Certainly can’t have him escaping the Emperor’s justice. Not with the crimes he’s got in there.”

The innkeeper looks dubious, anxious even, but he nods resolutely. “Aye, it’ll be done, milord. Nearly fifty years I’ve got on me, but I’m still as fast as any young and randy buck.”

“Not fast enough to milk the cows or feed the chickens before opening the inn, though,” his wife snidely remarks.

“That’s rich, coming from a woman who’s certainly faster than me in the wedding bed,” he shoots back, and she cackles madly.

Rolling your eyes at their little byplay, you make ready to move. But just before you leave, you feel a sudden grip on your arm, holding you back in place. It is Carris. Still kneeling on the floor, bundled up in your cloak as if it were a suit of armor, the prostitute looks up at you with a mess of emotions on her face. Fear and anxiety, relief and warmth…

She opens her mouth, before closing it, biting her lips as if struggling to choose which words to speak. But she finds her courage, shuddering and swallowing deeply before begging in a fragile voice, “…please come back safely, Marcus…I…I need to thank you, for…everything and the…”

>“”…I’ll be back for the cloak.” [Promise to meet her again.]
>“…keep the cloak. Goodbye, Carris.” [Final goodbye.]
>>
>>3243082
>“”…I’ll be back for the cloak.” [Promise to meet her again.]
>>
>>3243082
>“…keep the cloak. Goodbye, Carris.” [Final goodbye.]

We a Crownguard. We can't choose between two women. We did our best to do right by her, but being together would just be her watching us leave like this every time. And one day, we wouldn't come back.

She deserves more.
>>
>>3243082
This>>3243104
>>
>>3243082
>“…keep the cloak. Goodbye, Carris.” [Final goodbye.]
In the end our destiny is to be alone.
Unloved.
Unmourned.
cue the Carpenter Brut
>>
>>3243082
>“”…I’ll be back for the cloak.” [Promise to meet her again.]
>>
>>3243082
>“”…I’ll be back for the cloak.” [Promise to meet her again.]

>>3243104
And she will know that. But ghosting her is pointless right now. We will be leaving this village soon after this affair is done and she will know it'll be very unlikely we ever come back.
>>
>>3243082
>“”…I’ll be back for the cloak.” [Promise to meet her again.]
>>
>>3243082
>“”…I’ll be back for the cloak.” [Promise to meet her again.]

Oh, I'm sure we can spare five minutes for a proper goodbye before our eventual departure from the village.
>>
>>3243082
>“…keep the cloak. Goodbye, Carris.” [Final goodbye.]
>>
I'm confused and people are already bringing it up. I know it's symbolic and shit but it would be pretty awkward to do this Final Goodbye and then just see each other in town the next day. I don't think we are leaving in the middle of the night after we get Giso
>>
>>3243130
Some people want to act all edgy. I don't think it would hurt to have a friend/acquaintance out here and not have another brooding 'I LEFT IN THE NIIIGHT I WAS NEVER SEEN AGAAAAIIN'
>>
>>3243135
I didn't think it was edgy, just meant it to be tragic.
But you might have a point.
Switching from >>3243109 (You) to
>"I'll be back for the cloak". [Promise to meet her again.]
>>
>>3243082
>>“”…I’ll be back for the cloak.” [Promise to meet her again.]

Yeah like people said we can do a proper goodbye when we actually depart the village. Maybe Ellana can make something for that swollen eye, put her skills to some practical use.

Also more importantly that's a nice fucking cloak damnit.
>>
>>3243082
>”…I’ll be back for the cloak.” [Promise to meet her again.]

Seriously, we're not leaving our cloak and broach behind.
>>
>>3243112
That's why I wrote in a goodbye.
>>
>>3243140
What's special a out the cloak?
>>
Also in general reminder fron last thread, remember to tell Adrienne that Pullman accepted a bribe from us to stay loyal, and he should be watched for the possibility of seditious elements approaching him. He's weak to the plight of soldiers fallen, either the Kingdom isn't doing enough for them or his a dangerous idealist who can't be trusted.
>>
>>3243146
Incredibly comfy and completes our assassin look.
>>
>>3243150
iirc that wasn't Pullman but the commander under him that we helped fight the barbarian leader.
>>
>>3243155
Pretty sure as a Kingsguard we could just. Like. Requisition one


Or buy one.

Or take a spiff cloak from a dead enemy. We got lots of those to make, and they're the type of people who would splurge on their cloak ar the tailors.

Maybe even find a magic cloak.

Alternatively, much as Carris helped us with accepting our past, we are now able to leave it (and her) behind.

We aren't an assassin any more. We're Kingsguard to Ellana the Youngest, saviour of both our body and soul.

If the cloak is that wrapped up in our identity as an assassin, it's MORE appropriate to leave it behind along with the woman who made it possible for us to move on.
>>
>>3243173
I was kinda just making a joke.
>>
>>3243082
>“”…I’ll be back for the cloak.” [Promise to meet her again.]

kinda need to get it back at least just so we can get the brooch back.
>>
>>3243082
>“”…I’ll be back for the cloak.” [Promise to meet her again.]
>>
>>3243082
>“”…I’ll be back for the cloak.” [Promise to meet her again.]
>>
>>3243082
>“”…I’ll be back [Promise to save John Connor]
>>
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You know the more I think about the Final goodbye option with how premature and dramatic it is the more unintentionally hilarious it seems. It's almost chunni of Marcus.

I've got a mental image of the scene drawn like an over dramatic anime. 'I'm sorry Carris-san, keep the cloak, this is our... Final Goodbye™' And then Marcus jumps off into the night.

Hard cut to a Spongebob 'A few hours later' which hard cuts to both Marcus and Carris in Pullman's tent for a debriefing awkwardly looking away from each other.
>>
>>3243082
Seconding this >>3243270
>>
>>3243082
>“”…I’ll be back for the cloak.” [Promise to meet her again.]
>>
>>3243082
>“”…I’ll be back for the cloak.” [Promise to meet her again.]
>>
>>3243082
>>“”…I’ll be back for the cloak.” [Promise to meet her again.]
>>
>>3243082
>"...I'll be back for the cloak." [Promise to meet her again]

Just say goodbye like a normal person Marcus ffs
>>
>>3243298
Choked on my damn spit reading that, kek.

Anywho, vote clearly called for returning to Carris. Writing...
>>
>Writing...
See you all in three to five hours.
>>
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>>3243103
>>3243111
>>3243112
>>3243113
>>3243115
>>3243139
>>3243140
>>3243142
>>3243192
>>3243203
>>3243260
>>3243324
>>3243380
>>3243584
>>3244505
Your words are quiet, harsh almost, even though killing Giso’s thugs did not cause any shortness of breath. But from the way her face lights up, as if she’d heard the most wonderful thing in the world…it almost hurts to look at. Even when you turn away, you can still feel the weight of her gaze between your shoulders.

“There’s not much time. Go!” You shout to Hennick, almost shoving past the innkeeper as you exit the little hut. “Run as if the Tyrant himself were at your heels!”

The village is in the early stages of an organized chaos. Bells along the palisade ring out in alarm, rousing the smallfolk from their short-lived slumber. They trickle out onto the streets, husbands with their wives, parents with their children, all in varying states of disarray and undress. At first, they can hardly believe the sight, blinking the sand from their eyes as they stare like half-witted dullards at the burning brewery.

And then, that collective peace is broken when a winter wind sighs, blowing down the mountain, past the trees and over the river, coaxing the flames to an even greater height. Sparks leap into the air, burning as they settle upon a nearby house. Someone screams as the roof of thatch and grass ignites with a quiet breath, and all hell breaks loose in the village of Westholm.

You have to shove your pay past the panicking villagers, moving past scores of men, women and children as they surge into the main street in a disorganized mob. In an overcast night, with no moon to compare, the building is the brightest source of light within miles, casting macabre shadows across the fleeing villagers. Already, the telltale flickers shine from several broken windows. For what Giso demanded to be a slow fire, Remi and his men certainly failed to take into account how quickly the flames might spread.

The town guard, thankfully, has not lost its wits. A handful of levies have organized some villagers into a fire brigade, each carrying whatever vessels can hold water. From buckets and troughs, to even bedspreads and sheets of canvas, they rush towards the fire with a desperate recklessness. Perhaps if they hurry, they could save the source of Westholm’s “livelihood”…

You try not to spit as your mood sours. A full accounting of the smallfolk’s ignorance will be made into account once the dust and ash have settled. But for now, the alderman takes priority.

Eventually, you break through, and charge forward in a dead run towards the brewery. There are those who look at you as if you are mad, running towards the flames without bucket or bedsheet. But you pay them no mind, ignoring the calls of the guards and fire fighters as you reach the building proper, skidding through the mud and sleet to scramble towards the loading docks.

(cont.)
>>
With the blaze at your back, they are easily visible, even with the distance between the dock and the brewery proper. Giso and his men have decided not to wait for their fellows, and are already in the process of casting off. Their barge is an ugly thing, a far cry from the sleek dhows and caravels you’ve seen in the capital harbor. But with its shallow draft, it will navigate the river.

Of interesting note is the presence of other boats, fishing dories and other barges the like of which the renegades are escaping in. Some remain pristine, bearing the worst of the winter under snow-covered canvas; others bear the scars and deep wounds of deliberate sabotage, no doubt to prevent anyone to follow their trail.

But just as you can see them, they must be able to see you. Because in a single instant, they redouble their efforts, lashing supplies to the deck and pushing off from the shore. Two of the men drop their axes by the current boat they were destroying, and quickly flee to join their colleagues.

The distance is great. It is easily the length of one entire street to this dock proper, just under half a mile. And they have nearly finished clearing the shallows, pulling and pushing their boat into the center of the river.

…this is going to be too damn close.

>Roll 1d100 Agility/Acrobatics Test.
>Best out of three.

>>3244847
>>3244860
Kept you waiting for...an hour, huh?
>>
Rolled 9 (1d100)

>>3245031
>>
Rolled 46 (1d100)

>>3245031
It's really you QM
>>
Rolled 36 (1d100)

>>3245031
we fastboi now
>>
>Beats dragon
>Dies in a fire
>>
Rolled 39 (1d100)

>>3245035
>>3245039
>>3245040
our dice are fucked
>>
Swing and a miss looks like.
>>
Alright what options do we have?

I can only come up with Pullman's Knights chasing after and cutting them off farther down the river.
>>
>>3245031
Not your worst by far.
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>>3245063
We could use the returning dagger to push the barge slightly to the side. If we bust the rudder, they'll also eventually have to stop somewhere.
>>
We do have one bomb of Firewater. It has the potential to be pretty damn lethal though if we want to take Giso alive
>>
Depending how on how far from shore they are maybe we can throw a bomb? If we have any that is.
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>>3245110
Meh. We got the names, now we need to prevent Giso from alerting them.
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>>3245136
Should have stayed and stopped the fire instead of going to save the whore then.
>>
>>3245110
Out in the open, unless we get lucky and land it in the middle of the barge, they'll probably live. It has the potential to capsize or destroy the barge, though, which is pretty much ideal for what we're going form

Though I will note we haven't failed the check yet. We have a decent bonus to Acrobatics, depending on the DC we might land on the barge after all, or just close enough behind the barge to throw our grappling hook at it or something.
>>
>>3245154
Yeah but on the other hand, Marcus would be angsty if Carris had been raped.
>>
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>>3245035
>>3245039
>>3245040
Even when you’re halfway there, head lowered and arms charging as you sprint towards the dock, you know that you’re already too late. And by the time you reach the dock’s edge, the barge is already out of reach, but not nearly out of sight. There’s no way for you to throw your hook without them noticing and cutting it off. Their faces are streaked with sweat and exertion, but there’s not a single one of them that isn’t smug or leering, taunting you across the distance between gunwale and dock.

All except for Giso, who looks at you with annoyance. “Stop laughing and shoot, damn you! Kill him before he brings reinforcements-”

By the time they bring their weapons to bear, an odd mix of crossbows and shortbows, you’re already diving for cover. The discordant twang of bowstrings rings through the air, accompanied by the rattle of arrows bouncing off of wood. At least one bolt punches through the crate, exiting too damn close for comfort near your shoulder.

They shoot for at least a full twenty seconds before they stop, as Giso screams at them to stop wasting ammunition. By the time you poke your head around the crate, testing to make sure it’s no false alarm, they’ve already reached the middle of the river. And at this particular curve of the waterway, there’s no way you could otherwise swim without succumbing to the rapids.

Damn!

Cursing as you stand up, you glare in their direction as you think on the spot. You’ve one bomb of Firewater, and a singular Returning dagger. If you throw hard enough, you ust might be able to reach over the gunwale, but at the risk of killing Giso when you want him alive. And for all the dagger’s magic, you have doubts that your arm has enough force to jam the rudder.

But you look towards the nearby boats, the ones the alderman’s thugs haven’t destroyed. Certainly a small fishing dory would easily outpace the speed of the barge, but his men have projectile weapons. You’d need Silverow or even the little prince to cast a barrier to protect the boat from arrows…perhaps if you waited for the knights, and had their shields raised up in protection-

Without warning, the water before you explodes as something emerges from the blackened depths, clasping onto the pier to haul itself up. It is a huge shape, indistinct and dark, dripping wet and reeking of river filth. You shout in alarm, drawing your daggers and falling back into position. What the bloody fucking hell is this?!

But before you could throw a knife or strike with your blades, the fire illuminates the shape before you. It is undoubtedly a man, as naked as the day as he was born, stretching and flexing and otherwise ignoring the sight of the burning village. But even though the water has completely soaked through his beard and the wild mane of his hair, you still recognize the man.

You blink, exclaiming disbelievingly, “Krabat?”

(cont.)
>>
>>3245154
We should have left to get the Eagle Knights instead of wasting time listening to them
>>
>>3245179
>“Krabat?”
Nani the fuck?
>>
>>3245186
The merchant that brought us in the village, sssh.
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>>3245186
The guy who gave us a ride to the town.
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>>3245179
It seems that he recognizes you as well. The traveling merchant, uncaring of his state of undress, extends a soaking hand towards you with a wide and friendly grin. “Marcus! Oh, this is certainly an odd place to meet, but I’ll not complain before an unexpected encounter with a friend. Good evening! What are you doing here, this late at night?”

Sputtering at the sheer ridiculousness of the situation, you can’t help but answer, “I could ask the same thing about you! Why in the six bloody hells are you are you swimming naked in freezing water?”

“Oh, this? Ah, now that’s an interesting story. You see, the last time I had brought my mother to Westholm, she had dropped her ring into the river, right by the very edge where we are standing! So, being the dutiful son that I am, I set upon myself to retrieve ring. I’ve searched for hours, now, but I still cannot find the blasted thing!”

He shakes his head, exhaling hard enough to create a large cloud with the sheer magnitude of his lungs. “I’m certain that it’s still here, somewhere underneath a stone or caught on a plant. The rapids could not have carried it that far down the river. And my mother would remain disheartened if I failed to return without her ring…”

You must have attempted to jump. You must have attempted to jump or let fly your grappling hook, and the swing caused you to hit your head against the barge’s side. There’s simply no other way to explain the sheer madness of your current situation.

But first, a question…how is Krabbat not a shivering mess? Or better yet, how is the man still alive, breathing and showing no sign of obvious discomfort?

“Acht, but it’s getting late, so I will dress and resume…my search…tomorrow…” The merchant’s jovial voice breaks off as he finally notices the state of Westholm. As if to punctuate his revelation, one of the brewery’s supports collapses, and sends the entirety of the second floor crashing onto the earth, and a new cascade of sparks up into the evening sky. “Oh my goodness, what happened to the village?”

“…it’s a long story,” you wearily exhale.

“Nonsense. Try to sum it up into as few words as possible.”

You direct at him the flattest look you can muster. “The alderman is a slaving scumbag smuggler who set the town on fire as cover for his escape from justice on a river barge.”

“…it certainly sounds like things have changed since mother and I last came to Westholm,” the merchant concludes, staring at the direction of where the barge sails down the river. “And certainly not for the better…”

Then, he suddenly smacks a meaty fist into the palm of his hand. “Ah, of course! I cannot find her ring because Giso took it from the riverbed. Why did I not see it before?”

…what?

(cont.)
>>
>>3245228
If this ends up with him throwing us onto the boat, we need to buy this man all the fucking liquor he can drink and give him every single imperial commendation we can squeeze out of the Princesses.
>>
>>3245237
I mean I'm worried he's gonna stab us.
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>>3245248
That would make me very very sad. Krabat is a cool dude.
>>
>>3245228
Wait..does that mean that Krabat is a necromancer? Well at least the dude cares for his mother heirloom.
>>
>>3245228
“You say that the alderman is a smuggler, no? My mother’s ring is of great value. There is no one else who might have taken it. Very well…”

He’s gone mad, you dimly think, The cold has gone and turned his brain to ice.

The merchant turns toward a pile of netting, removing his clothes from a coiled tangle of rope and twine. As he slips them on, he nods towards one of the boats, grinning. “We’ll row out to them, you and I! You will get the Crownguard’s justice, and I will receive an answer for the location of my mother’s ring.”

“…they are armed with arrows,” you say in an attempt to block out the headache between your ears, “…with how low the railing of the dories are, we’d be sitting ducks for them to snipe and shoot.”

“A fair point…” he says, frowning as he finishes robbing himself. Running a mitt of a hand across the finish of one of the boats, he murmurs quietly, closing his eyes in deep thought. “…but I believe we can do it. If you row, then I shall see to our protection.”

“Protection? You don’t mean to say that you’ve got a shield in that cart you were driving? Because nothing short of an extremely thick iron shield is going to stop the force of a crossbow bolt.”

He hesitates before shaking his head. “No, I’m afraid not, Marcus, but not because I deal in grain and wheat. I am mildly allergic to high concentrations of iron. My skin breaks out into rashes if I as much as brush up against it. That is why I fight with a staff, and thank the gods regularly that the Emperor does not put iron in our currencies.

“Still,” he says, examining his hands then towards the distant barge, as if calculating something, “I do have a way to protect us from any projectiles that mean us harm. Consider this my debt repaid further for your help against those bandits the other day.”

His own body, you think half-jokingly before you think that the madman’s barrel-chested girth might be thick enough to stop a bolt dead in its tracks. Unless he's skilled enough with his staff to deflect the bolts out of the air...

>Demand further answers more specific than vague and veiled wording.
>Insist that you’d rather wait for the Eagle Knights or your companions.
>Reluctantly accept his offer and take a fishing dory into the river.
>Custom option.
>>
>>3245291
>Reluctantly accept his offer and take a fishing dory into the river.
>If we have any bombs or something to help him not feel pain, give it to him.
>>
>>3245291
>Reluctantly accept his offer and take a fishing dory into the river.
fuckit. We might end up fighting Krabat, but whatever let's follow the madman.
>>
>>3245291
>Reluctantly accept his offer and take a fishing dory into the river.
>>
>>3245291
>>Reluctantly accept his offer and take a fishing dory into the river.
Don't look a gift karabat in the mouth.
>>
>>3245291
>Reluctantly accept his offer and take a fishing dory into the river.

>allergic to iron

Fucking hell he is a bloody fay?!!
>>
>>3245297
Why would we even care about someone elses ring? Let the guy have his mom's ring fuck sake.
>>
>>3245291
>Reluctantly accept his offer and take a fishing dory into the river.

He's not human!
>>
>>3245291
>>Reluctantly accept his offer and take a fishing dory into the river.
I hope Krabat is a dragon. Then he can Marcus could high five and go on adventures.
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>>3245291
>Reluctantly accept his offer and take a fishing dory into the river

I mean, he [i]clearly[/i] knows what he's doing, right?
>>
>>3245291
>Demand further answers more specific than vague and veiled wording.
>>
So, we know everyone in the tavern heard Marcus and Carris sexing it up, but who heard them outside of that?
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>>3245228
>Ah, of course! I cannot find her ring because Giso took it from the riverbed. Why did I not see it before?

He was ordered to find the ring and is twisting his orders to help out.
>>
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>>3245294
>>3245297
>>3245304
>>3245307
>>3245311
>>3245317
>>3245325
>>3245329
…at this point, if rowing out with a half-addled grainary merchant will help you get to Giso quicker, then by all the gods, that’s the path you’re going to take…dammit.

Krabat brightens as you move to the other side of the dory, and the two of you throw off the canvas to reveal the pristine boat beneath. “It’ll be just like those bandits. We’ll make quick work of the alderman and his men to be back in time for breakfast.”

“Giso must be taken alive,” you stress importantly, grunting with exertion as you lift the boat towards the docks. It falls into the water with a loud splash, rocking gently as it settles in the shallows. “But his thugs and sergeant Remi are fair game. No one’s going to weep any tears for them.”

To your surprise, the joviality of his face disappears at the mention of the sergeant. “Aye, I bet no one will. Never liked the man whenever we visited, but I didn’t think he’d stoop to something as vile as slavery. If what you say is true, then world’s going to be better off without him.”

Finally, a straightforward statement you can agree on.

The dory’s draft is shallow, but wide enough to accommodate both your weight and the impressive bulk of Krabat’s body without sinking or rocking wildly. Acquiring a pair of nearby oars the two of you set out, pulling as hard as you can to catch up with Giso’s barge. Not an admittedly hard task, given how the river guides and augments your speed, in conjunction with Krabat’s powerful strokes.

“I see them, just right around the river bend!” The merchant shouts, “We’re only a few hundred feet away now!”

Indeed you are. What would have taken half an hour with another barge only takes ten minutes with your swift and shallow fishing dory. And even as the clouds continue to obscure the light of the moon and stars, you can easily make out the shape of the barge and its occupants. Panicking and shouting at the sight of your approach.

Finally, some good fucking news, and you can’t help but grin. “We’ve got them now-”

The soft whoosh is all you can hear, and you barely manage to avoid the crossbow bolt that flies straight towards the boat. It misses its mark, striking beneath the waterline and harmlessly bouncing off the side. Any higher, and it might have put a hole in the dory.

You shout as you struggle with the oars against the rapids, “If you have any tricks up your sleeve, now is really the time!”

But he is already moving. Turning around to face the barge directly, Krabat raises his hands, one an empty palm and another with an oaken oar. As he stands up, you nearly shout in alarm, fearing the sudden unbalance of the dory…

…yet nothing happens. The boat remains stable, even as Krabat leans forward in their direction. A physical impossibility. The man must weigh at least fifteen stone, yet the boat does not keel or capsize.

(cont.)
>>
>>3245428
>yet nothing happens. The boat remains stable, even as Krabat leans forward in their direction. A physical impossibility. The man must weigh at least fifteen stone, yet the boat does not keel or capsize.

Either magic or incredible balance.

Or he's from the Book of Weeaboo Fightan' Magic.
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>>3245434
will you fucking people stop posting inbetween posts? The CONT at the bottom means "continued" not "incontinent". Incompetents.
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>>3245443
No, fuck off.
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>>3245444
No, you fuck off.
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>>3245450
>>Reddit
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>>3245461
>implying
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>>3245470
I don't need to imply when you're the one whining about people posting between quest segments.
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>>3245428
And that’s when you can taste it, just before you can raise any questions. The sudden shift in the winter breeze, and how the air trembles with power. The distant scent of evergreen along the bank becomes richer, sweeter, and your mouth fills with the taste of spearmint and sap, and a distant dream of spring.

Light gathers at his fingertips, and you can see the path the digits of his empty hand trace in the air. And from his mouth, he utters words of power, in a sonorous voice devoid of any mirth or joy, speaking with the voice of a legion:

Sowilo. Elhaz. Thurisaz. Ansuz.

He slams his oar upon the boat to finish his sentence. The space between you and the barge grows warm, then hot, as hot as a summer day. And before your very eyes, in the middle of a cold and harsh winter on a half-frozen river, a great tongue of fire erupts on the water's surface, hot enough to cajole sweat on your brow. It rears up as if like a living thing, chasing, biting and devouring the arrows that fly your way...

…you are an idiot. How did you not see it before? You could not say that it was obvious in hindsight. Your only clue was his proficiency with his staff, and he could have been a spear-fighter or retired veteran from the Bastards’ War!

But no, he is not that. The man that you know as Krabat, and the villagers of Westholm call “Traveling Krabat”, is without a single doubt in your mind, a sorcerer.

…but what kind of magic is this? This is not anything like the gentle cool of her magic, or the atmospheric charge of Silverow’s spells. You have never encountered this kind of magic before…

>Roll 1d100+20 for the Taste of Magic (+20 Knowledge).
>Best out of three.
>>
Rolled 90 + 20 (1d100 + 20)

>>3245484
It's obviously magic, duh.
>>
Rolled 27 + 20 (1d100 + 20)

>>3245484
>>
Rolled 47 + 20 (1d100 + 20)

>>3245484
rollan
>>3245489
Yeah, but what magic?
>>
Using rune magic in your quest: Interesting take.
Using Touko as the linked gif: PRICELESS.
>>
>>3245493
MAGIC Magic. Duh.
>>
>>3245498
Kek. I didn't have many options, and I wanted something to stand out for this scene.

Writing...
>>
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>>3245489
>>3245492
>>3245493
…no, it can’t be. All of them were killed, their sacred trees burned and circles destroyed by Eridian expansion into Vethica. They had no need for “barbarian magic”, citing the civilizing and more ordered form of High Sorcery. It was a purge that robbed your ancestors of their native magic, forcing them to adopt the practices of their invaders…

“Krabat,” you whisper, in a hushed and awed voice, “…you are a primal mage?”

He does not turn, remaining silent has his serpent of flame continues to absorb the arrows. But he does answer, in his own and only voice: “The correct word is ‘druid’ or dryw for the Hultoi, Galatarii and their descendants. Or if you travel further north, then goði or gothi, for the Vlennish and the Vethics. Primal mage, wild sorcerer, green magus…it was labels like those that the Consuls and Magisters gave my kith and kin.”

Oh, how she would have loved to meet him. To think, that in this day and age, there still exist the druids and gothi of your ancestral past? The authentic deal, and not murmurs and fakes that ply their trade in oracle alleys? He must have so many stories, so much history about your ancestors to share!

…the ramifications of this can wait. Right now, you have an alderman to catch and bring to justice. So it is with hands nearly trembling with a sort of gleeful excitement, the kind you never really felt as a child, that you double your efforts to close the distance between you and the barge.

The serpent of flame continues to protect your approach, hissing and rearing. It does not strike, merely darting in and out as you reach the stern of the ship. Setting down your oars, you reach for your grappling hook, securing the end firmly on the dory before throwing it over the gunwale. It catches on its first try, and under the cover of Krabat’s wild magic, you scramble over the side and onto the boat proper.

You don’t even have a moment to rest or take an accounting before someone sets upon you. Their swing is reckless, motivated by reflex and fear more than skill or practiced strike. It is too easy to dodge, and you drive the blade of your dagger into the man’s neck with the mere act of the draw.

Krabat is soon after you, leaping onto the deck as the man’s corpse falls. The druid cuts an intimidating figure, in spite of his makeshift staff of an oar. With a snap of his fingers, the tendril of flame ceases moving, coiling to rest behind you, as if an adder waiting to strike.

There are only five men left. There are three guards, each with bows or crossbows, and they fail to hide their fear as their weapons tremble. Sergeant Remi is more disgusted than annoyed, but his sword is drawn and his eyes are guarded. And behind them is the man himself, Alderman Giso in his bulky, sweating glory.

>Intimidate Giso’s henchmen into surrendering. [Intimidate]
>Offer them nothing but steel and primal magic. [Attack]
>Custom option.
>>
>>3245607
>>Offer them nothing but steel and primal magic. [Attack]
>>
>>3245607
>Offer them nothing but steel and primal magic. [Attack]
A druid, huh
>>
>>3245607
>Offer them nothing but steel and primal magic. [Attack]
>>
>>3245607
>Offer them nothing but steel and primal magic. [Attack]
>>
>>3245607

>Offer them nothing but steel and primal magic. [Attack]
>>
>>3245607
>Offer them nothing but steel and primal magic. [Attack]
>>
>>3245607
>Offer them nothing but steel and primal magic. [Attack]
You're in good form today Kaz, finally getting some free time?
>>
>>3245607
>Offer them nothing but steel and primal magic. [Attack]

No mercy we only need Giso alive anyway.
>>
>>3245607
>Intimidate Giso’s henchmen into surrendering. [Intimidate]

Not that it matters at this point, but I want it out there that some of us at least tried to keep witnesses alive.
>>
>>3245712
No need to have witness when we have the ledger and the culprint. Besides either Pullman or Von Roi will kill then anyway.
>>
And honestly do we really need live witness that have seeing a crownguard walking and being helped by a wild mage/druid?
>>
>>3242320
By the way, Kaz, which Batman does Marcus sound like?
>>
>>3245733
Merit of keeping one of them alive would be that he could point to others that helped them or keep quiet about slave trading. And partial confirmation on what we will be able to get from Giso
>>
>>3245806
Everything we need to know about Giso's deallings and who he dealt with were on the ledger.

Besides people on the lower base of a smuggling deal don't know who the payers or the clients are.

We just need to keep Giso alive for the torturers.
>>
>>3245920
The ledger is one piece of evidence, however good. The more evidence we have, the better. What if Giso claims he didn't write it and we planted it? Sure, his handwriting is all over it, but why bother proving that when we can just tell him one of his thugs spilled the beans? Also, they might know details or other stuff not mentioned in the diary. Overall, we literally nothing to lose by keeping these guys alive and who knows what otherwise.
>>
>>3245747
Dick Grayson.
>>
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>>3246077
>>
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>>3246087
>>
>>3245682
You fucking jinxed it
>>
>>3246243
And I'm sorry, I honestly had no idea what I was thinking when I typed that.
>>
>>3245291
> I am mildly allergic to high concentrations of iron

FUCKIN" FAE ALERT

Especially with all the other nonsense.
>>
>>3245988
>we literally nothing to lose
I can think of several

>someone leaks a message to the vascieli
>They get the jump on Krabat before surrendering
>We're forced to allocate men and resources, maybe even some of the Crownsguard's attention, on anyone left alive.
>suicide bombs
>blood magic takes over the living bodies when we aren't looking
>>
>>3245607
>I don't suppose any of you have this man's precious ring?
>Kill them whatever the answer
>>
>>3246279
To be fair he's been a bro by helping us get to the boat
>>
>>3246287
Yeah, I'm just saying that we gotta be careful about what we say and promise.

Even if he isn't a Fae himself, who then is his Mother? How long has he been looking for her ring? Does he need any help? It often bears well to aid the Lords and Ladies but it's even better if you help someone helping them and have a degree of distance between them and you.
>>
>>3246280
>someone leaks a message to the vascielli
While imprisoned? Possible but doubtful and it wouldn't be our fault in any case
>they get the jump on Krabat
We're right there, anyone who tries any funny business is dead and the man knows how to handle himself with a staff anyway
>men and resources
That's what the Eagle Knights are for
>suicide bombs
>blood magic
lolno, none of these thugs are worth that much to anyone.
>>
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>>3245612
>>3245619
>>3245621
>>3245631
>>3245634
>>3245665
>>3245682
>>3245698
“Giso must be taken alive,” you quietly murmur, falling into the first form of the Dance. “The rest of them have nothing to offer us.”

Spinning his oar like he would a staff or spear, the druid replies: “Not entirely true. They still have their lives to sell. Although I wonder how much they’ll fetch at market come spring? I’ve never been able to sell trash or compost for more than a handful of coppers.”

Giso’s ranting to his men, screaming for them to fill your bodies with arrows, overwhelm your position, or otherwise do something beyond just standing there. But none of them, even the tense and grimacing sergeant Remi, are too eager to break the standstill the lot of you has come to. Or perhaps they’ve been charmed, robbed of their courage by the coils of fire behind you.

“…whatever you do, please don’t sink the barge.”

Krabat laughs, placing his empty hand upon the gunwale. The druid intones a sonorous word of power, low enough to make your teeth shake. And from where his skin meets the wood, it is as if his touch has the power of resurrection. From wood supposedly years dead and treated with varnish and paint, life emerges, first little branches and vine. Within another moment, those same tendrils grow to fibrous cables, coiling around his arm like a metal gauntlet.

“D-demon! Witch! Hexer!” One of the soldiers loses his nerve. In spite of his trembling hands, he is still able to make a good shot with his crossbow. The drawstring snaps forward, propelling the bolt towards the hapless druid…

…only for Krabat to fucking catch the bolt with his empty hand, crushing it into splinters a second later. If you had blinked, you would have missed it, as if the projectile was drawn towards his arm.

“Wood calls to wood, ash to oak and pine to yew,” he intones, kicking the bolt head back towards the pale-faced thug. “What is never dead can never die, and even the harshest soil and barren rock can nourish the smallest things. A barge is but a collection of trees, a bolt a sapling branch denied the chance to grow, but no amount of iron nails and fletching can deny its origin, and rob me of my magic.”

His smile is eerie, eyes wide and glittering, and for the very first time since you’ve met him, you begin to question if the man is even human. “I am still far more comfortable in the thickets and coves, but I am still within my element. Come, then. Tonight, this merchant deals in death as well as life…”

The timbers of the deck heave and groan, buckling under some unseen strain. And there is a great explosion of splinters and wood dust as tendrils of writhing vines and fibrous roots sprout from the holystoned wood, groping and reaching blindly for the now-panicking thugs. They drop their crossbows, drawing daggers and swords to cut away at the thorny branches that attempt to snare their legs.

(cont.)
>>
Krabat pauses suddenly, snapping his fingers in sudden realization. “Ah, forgive me, I had almost forgotten. Have any of you seen my mother’s ring? Giso, I know we haven’t been properly introduced, but you of all people must have seen it. It’s a small thing, a delicate band of gold centered with a polished emerald-”

“K-kill them!” the alderman screams, shoving his men forward, and that seems to break the grip of fear about their minds. They charge forward, cutting the vines and branches as best they can, only stumbling ever so often as something otherwise catches.“Kill them all!”

“-and engraved with delicate runes,” the druid sighs wearily. “…how rude. Then perhaps I’ll have to beat it out of you. I don’t usually agree with the Canticle of the Light, but I’ll not spare any rod for any spoilt children tonight. Maybe after, we can talk like civilized people about the location of my mother’s ring…”

>Roll 1d100+30 Combat.
>Best out of three.

Gotta go to work. Will try to answer setting questions if my IP isn't banned.
>>
Rolled 66 + 30 (1d100 + 30)

>>3246314
>Gotta go to work. Will try to answer setting questions if my IP isn't banned.
Why would your IP be banned you beautiful madman
>>
Rolled 39 + 30 (1d100 + 30)

>>3246314
>>
Rolled 23 + 30 (1d100 + 30)

>>3246314
>>
Rolled 11 + 30 (1d100 + 30)

>>3246314
>>
>>3246319
phoneposting, mobile data IPs
>>
>>3246314
Marcus seemed unusually happy to meet a Primal Mage.

What's the general attitude of the Kingdom, and of the Nobility, towards them?
>>
>>3246379
It's a culture thing. Ever played Phantom Pain? Been to a former colony?

As a national identity, people "civilized" by an invading empire don't have much culture to call their own. Much is forced upon them, and they are aware that their own identity has been stained a foreign color. Language, technology, arts, and in this case magic is taken from another.

So Krabat is a national hero, by sheer virtue of being living, breathing evidence of a lost history.

Might seem a bit odd to the modern globalized perspective, but it's also a lowkey coldwar being fought between the major powers over which culture "dominates" the world.
>>
>>3246415
> Might seem a bit odd to the modern globalized perspective, but it's also a lowkey coldwar being fought between the major powers over which culture "dominates" the world.

Literally China trying this right now.

And failing.

Badly, aside from its economic penetration.

It's just that America isn't Beast Mode with the cultural victory anymore, and has calmed down to merely being the leader.

France is possibly coming from behind for a surprise upset though.

Meanwhile Russia is just . . . What the fuck bros. You had it back in 2012 then threw it away.
>>
>>3246379

Basically this. >>3246415

The setting for the continent of Kaithe is heavily inspired by a post-Roman Centeal Europe circa the Fall of the Western Empire, although in my setting, the Eridian Empire survived the scrounge of the gods (i.e. dragons), albeit as a pale shadow of what they once were. So you have the myriad barbarian tribes that come with the land, having thrown off the yoke of Roman/Eridian dominance to forge their own kingdoms and destinies for themselves, creating their own culture albeit influenced by the technology and aesthetic of their former overlords/conquerors. Naturally, said former overlords haven’t been too pleased, and as a result, the fallen empire of Eridia has ever since been at odds with the “barbarian” Empire of Vethica, and it’s myriad substates/kingdoms formed by former tribes.

As for primal mages/druids, the Roman expeditions to Gaul and Britain were infamous for how the druids were treated. Julius Caesar outlawed their practice after his conquest of Gaul, and General Gaius Suetonius Paulinus massacred them in their stronghold on the island of Mona, north of Wales in 60 AD. The survivors fled to Ireland, and they never gained a foothold back in Europe ever again.

The Eridians did something similar, albeit in a more specific and targeted genocide. In their mind, the art of High Sorcery was not only the superior form of magic, but the [i]only[/] form of magic that had any right to exist. Primal Arts/Green Magic was too intrinsically tied to the barbarian’s culture and religion, and so to better exert their influence and to prevent any divisions or uprising, the druids and primal mages had to go.

Completely unrelated was the fear that while High Sorcery can be derived from pedigrees of magic-users and utilized by only those who possess Cores/Sparks, Green Magic can be used by anybody so long as they have the training and proper tutelage.

Their genocide was completely and utterly thorough that to this day, even almost eight hundred years after the Eridian annexation of Kaithe, the Dragonic Wars, the Rise of the Umbral King, and Crimson Reckoning and the Bladebound Rebellion, the Primal Arts are neigh extinct as far as everyone knows. To the point where the ancestors of our characters were forced to adopt not only the culture, but also the magical practices of their invaders.
>>
So can druids manipulate oil? From the ground, not from like animals.

Well that too but I'm primarily asking about oil you get out of the ground.
>>
>>3246616
So you're saying this guy can teach us magic?
>>
>>3246874
No. Marcus is already claimed.
>>
>>3246948
Ellana hasn't been claimed so maybe that's an idea. Having access to lost magic and being able to teach it to supporters could be a significant boon for her in the future.
>>
>>3246948
Lewd

>>3247019
>Ellana hasn't been claimed
2 problems with that

1: Yes she has by me
2: Mages get disinherited
>>
>>3247019
That's a good way for her to get burned as a witch.
>>
>>3247019
Sounds like the kind of hidden trump card that she could use if at risk of immediate death.

>>3247034
>>3247032
Better to have it and not need it, than vice versa.
>>
>>3247070
Let's be honest he will not agree to that. He didn't even found his mother ring yet, he got too many things on his head. And Silverow, so no let's not do that
>>
>>3246948
Hey Kaz, what are the wedding customs in Aderaveth?
>>
>>3246948
Also, how infamous is the name of Lucien Painel and is Marcus's mother still alive?
>>
>>3247299
Plot twist, Marcus and that Crownguard whose dad is a Crownguard but he's not her real dad.

Are half-siblings.
>>
Got my weekly D&D game tonight, won't be able to post until later.

>>3247293
>>3247299
>Wedding Customs in Aderaveth
Originally, marriage rituals in the territory were uniformly exclusive and differing based on the individual tribe. Most practiced at least some form of polygamy, with one husband able to select a wife and no more than two concubines, but polygamy would grow out of fashion following the formalization of inheritance laws and the mess of inheritance rights wars. A bride-price was agreed upon by the parents of the potential couple, with the poorer or impoverished individuals offering livestock or land, and the wealthier offering precious jewelry, land, slaves, etc. Something shared between the classes, however, was the lengthy courtship (lasting relatively shorter for poorer people) and selecting the date of the wedding to coincide with Spring and the holy days/weeks/months of fertility goddesses. Sacrifices to the gods for a healthy marriage, a bountiful wedding bed, and the safe delivery of infant children were mandatory, and persist to this day. At least a goat or other livestock would be offered at the barest minimum, but for royal and noble marriages, expect at least an entire field's worth of bovine and other domesticated animals. No less than one hundred and one cows were sacrificed to the fertility goddess Frūja for the wedding of Leonhardt Crowmond and Melianna Tarmund (over the course of five years, as war made the animals very hard to come by).

Borrowing from the Eridians before the period of occupation, grooms that could not afford rings would have the middle digit of their left hand branded at the joint. It would mark that he was legally married, and to serve as a warning to unwed women. Should the man be found in bed with a woman not his wife or concubine, he would either pay a fine to his wife's family, or the offending finger would be cut off and presented as restitution. This practice grew out of fashion as the lower classes were able to have ready access to rings made of cheaper materials, such as bronze and silver, but the tradition of branding still persists in some parts of the Empire.

The bride is required to bathe in a steam bath, to both physically and ritually cleanse her body and soul for her future husband. Crushed herbs the likes of rosemary (to counter negative energy), lavender (to relax the skin and mind), and feverfew (for menstrual cramps and difficult childbirth) were mixed and then evaporated to form the source of the steam. She was attended by her mother, her immediate sisters, and the sisters or mother of her husband-to-be, and they will test and question her of the expected duties of a wife, mother and homemaker. Afterwards, she cleansed herself in cold water to close her pores and finalize the ritual.

(I have more, but that should be enough).

>Lucien Painel
Anyone who knows his true name is many years dead. His very infamous epithet is that of "the Wraith" in the underworld of the Empire.
>>
>>3247591
>Got my weekly D&D game tonight, won't be able to post until later.
Call them butts.
>>
>>3247591
Hey dudez wat R weddings here?

> (I have more, but that should be enough).

Kaz be honest, how much cocaine / worldbuilding have you done here?
>>
>>3247873
How much cocaine? Not nearly enough as Stephen King, but in terms of worldbuilding, I've always been writing whenever I could find the time, on whatever medium I have available. Lot of my worldbuilding happens on public transit.
>>
>>3248610
Huh, I thought all you people did on public transit was grope.
>>
>>3247591
I was wondering if Marcus and Serena could be considered married under certain customs, but I guess not.
>>
>>3248881
No, they were living in SIN.
>>
>>3248881
It depends on the local laws on common-law marriage.
>>
>>3248881
Well, they certainly could have done away with tradition and had a simple ceremony. Nothing ostentatious, just two rings, two new identities, a few witnesses, whatever nearby priest there is, and enough land to make an honest living...

...but for all intents and purposes, in the shithole of the slums? The slums operate on their own rules, so in their own way, they might have been married. Certainly lived and acted like it.

>>3247299
>Is Marcus' mother still alive?
The most straightforward answer that I can give you is "I don't know". Never thought of committing it to paper or serious thought because of how irrelevant such a character might be for a large portion of the plot. That being said, I did do some free-writing for Lucien's backstory, and I've narrowed it down to three possible women, so maybe when King passes me the blunt or I ride the next public transport...who knows?
>>
>>3248932
If they lived and acted like it then why did she have sex with other men?

Also real question:
Does Bellatrix have fond memories of eating butter dug up from the ground?
>>
>>3248950
>she fucked other men
Wut?
>>
>>3248996
She got raped to death.
>>
>>3248932
Could Marcus have a brand on his ring finger?
>>
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I do wonder how long do we have to stay in this arc, looking at our pacing it might take 1-3 more years before we could actually reach our destination.
And that's being optimistic.
Are you considering of fast forwarding Kaz, or will that hurt the plot too much?
>>
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>>3249175
That's not the right image anon. This one is.
>>
>>3249175
After this engagement with Giso, I foresee one final climax at Mont Gormaic before this arc is over. Then we will timeskip/fast forward one, maybe two years.
>>
>>3249337
What about Ellana's birthday?

And answer the butter question.
>>
>>3249349
The funny thing about Ellana's birthday is that at the age of nine, each royal prince/princess has a week-long festival thrown in their honor, ending with the selection of a Crownguard via tourney. Warriors from the continent are invited to test their mettle against each other for the right to guard the Emperor's children. I flirted with the idea of a tourney for a few days, just to have Marcus legitimize himself before the realm since folks are assmad that the Crowmonds got around the traditional tourney and appointed a Crownguard in secret. But given the last time a quest regarding bodyguards and princesses had a tournament...

...let's just say that I have no desire to drudge up some really, really bad memories for some of my readers from before our exile from /tg/.

>>3249139
Marcus is certainly branded, but not in the way you think he is.
>>
>>3249384
Answer the butter question.

And why nine?
>>
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>>3249384
>bodyguards and princesses had a tournament
>>
>>3249461
It's okay anon the turtle can't hurt you.
>>
>>3249384
>But given the last time a quest regarding bodyguards and princesses had a tournamentWell I mean as long as we don't have a civil war over the princesses, we should be fine.
As long as we don't fight some dude with an ice sword that breaks an important weapon of ours that has some special deep meaning, we should be fine.
Yes, we are gonna be fiiiiine...
Where are we in Ellana's ranking? Beyond Human?
>>
>>3249384

I must've missed that. Which quest was it?
>>
>>3249613
Dare you enter a magical realm full of shitstorm, the realm of Princess Guard Quest?
>>
>>3249623
Oh, huh. I've heard of that one before. Apparently it got so bad the QM quit, right?
>>
>>3249785
I have no idea what kind of rumors you heard, but it managed to do what other quests can't, it was finished.
>>
>>3249785
Nope, he finished it and is currently making VN based on it.
>>
>>3249790
In its case, is that a good thing? It might have been better if the thing was dropped sooner
>>
>>3249796
>It might have been better if the thing was dropped sooner
That's not a really good mindset for someone who's reading quests, as being able to finish what you started is better than half-assing it.
Princess Guard aside, next update when, Kaz?
>>
>>3249804
Sunday, maybe a few updates. Gotta prep my stuff for Katsu ‘19 in a few days.
>>
>>3249384
The thing is, you don't have the story on autistic rails and we already have a Best Girl so there's minimal risk.

Besides. Ellana can just have two crownsguards, a dayguard and nightguard. A bulwark and a blade.
>>
>>3249790
It's like you never heard of Moloch.

And

> Finishing a quest doesn't count when you write it as a novel.

It was a shit quest and a mediocre novel.
>>
>>3249139
>>
>>3246319
>>3246323
>>3246325
For all the talk and bluster of Giso’s henchmen, they are a far cry from professional soldiers. Still, you do take some consultation in the fact that they at least put up a better fight than that unruly mob of Vascieli. They have some basic idea of tactics, staying in line as best they can, encircling you with the points of their swords. You might have even had a hard time fighting against the four of them, were it not for Krabat.

The druid contents himself with his oar, wielding it no differently than one might a shortspear. He keeps them at bay, harassing them with wicked jabs and thrusts with the head of the paddle. And to those that he allows to enter within dagger’s reach, he strikes with a fist sheathed in wood. He takes a total of two, pitching one over the gunwale and into the freezing waters, knocking the other down to the deck with a shattered throat.

But if there ever was a contest between the two of you, you certainly did not fall short. You fall upon another guard, dancing through the writhing vines and branches that whip about the deck. Struggling against the tendrils that chafe and cling to his feet, your opponent can only stand still and parry. You put a blade between his ribs at an angle he cannot defend from.

“Fucking sorcerers!” Remi snarls, snatching something from along the side. With a sharp rasp of steel on steel, he ignites the torch in his left hand, thrusting the flames at any of the vines that get too close. “Godsdamned hexers and spellcharmers…!”

Krabat winces as the flames catch onto the vines. They burn slowly, writhing as the planks ignite, but the merchant answers, “I am neither one of those things. I am a druid-”

The sergeant cuts him off with a vicious swing of his sword, which he somehow manages to deflect. The oar groans, nearly buckling underneath the strain of the blow. “I couldn’t give less of a damn of what you are! You magic users are all the fucking same. Ruining everything you touch, sticking your cocks into other people’s business…”

“…well, I was only following him,” he says defensively, pointing towards you. “So it’s his cock that you should be taking umbrage with.”

Even you can’t help but blanch at his matter-of-fact declaration. But it doesn’t serve to amuse or otherwise stop the angry sergeant in his attacks, let alone his angry tirade. “The old man may not know you, but I remember you. ‘Travelling Krabat’ and his mother, come to town? How could anyone forget your stupid face and jolly way of talk?”

At that, the merchant’s face brightens as he lunges forward with his oar. “Oh, finally someone who knows me. Listen, you wouldn’t have happened to see a ring, about this big,” he pauses to bring his empty hand to form a small circle with his big and forefinger, “And inlaid with an emerald and engraved with runes-”

(cont.)
>>
>>3251214
Why do I feel like Remi is about to make the druid mad?
>>
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>>3251214
>“…well, I was only following him,” he says defensively, pointing towards you. “So it’s his cock that you should be taking umbrage with.”
>>
>>3251285
> "It's not my cock you should be worried about me sticking inside you, it's my dagger!"

Nope. Can't get it to work.
>>
>>3251214
Apparently Kaz can't get it to work either ;(
>>
Did Kaz leave to get milk at the same store that Mini often buys his?
>>
>>3251855
>>3251553
IRL hit him like a brick mid update.
>>
>>3242320
It kinda bugs me that the version of the armor that Marcus has in this pic has those weird straps on the arms.
>>
>>3252299
It kinda bugs me that Marcus doesn't look like Konrad Curze if he got some damn sleep
>>
>>3251084
>>3249006
My mistake, I meant for 006
>>
>>3252324
Konrad is an ugly mofo and Marcus is noted as being quite handsome.
>>
>>3251855
>>3251861
No updates for the rest of the night. IRL didn’t hit me as much as the curse did. Drove up to go watch a movie, started snowing on the way back. Hydroplaned on some black ice taking the exit even when I was 15 under the limit, hit my head and I can’t exactly think straight right now. So update for tomorrow, maybe, once I’ve taken some Tylenol and applied some ice to the side of my head.
>>
>>3252544
Get yourself checked for a concussion mate, and best wishes for your health.
>>
>>3252544
Hope you be OK Kaz!
>>
>>3252544
Damn dude. Hope you're okay.
>>
>>3252544
https://healthcare.utah.edu/healthfeed/postings/2016/11/concussion.php
>>
>>3252544
Do you need new tires?
>>
>>3252544
Yeah so that's a concussion.
>>
>>3252577
I need duct tape to affix my still-working front left light and the driver’s door won’t open because the impact warped the metal. Smashed the car into the guardrail, that’s what caused the head injury, smacked my noggin against the window/seat belt. No other signs of damage beyond scraped paint along the side.

>>3252573
I mean, all things considered, I don’t think I have a concussion. I’m feeling cognizant enough, and the only thing that hurts is the side of my head.
>>
>>3252583
Whoops. Meant to tag you in that other message in regards to not having a concussion.
>>
>>3252624
That's a good sign in you not having a concussion.
>>
>>3252624
>>3252614
Don't sleep for 24 hours, maybe?
>>
>>3252624
Dude, go to the doctor. You're not the best person to judge if you have a concussion and I'd rather you not die.
>>
>>3252624
Dont go to sleep for like
Six hours
Might not wake up

If your vision is messed up at all go to the ER.
>>
Still alive. No signs of nausea or severe head pain. Gonna play it close to the chest today, hopefully I can get at least a few updates out today after work.
>>
>>3253936
Huzzah!
>>
>>3253936
Glad you're not dead, Remember to tweet shit out years from now if you ever write a book.
>>
>>3251214
“Fucking take me seriously, you green bastard!” Remi screams, hacking wildly at the man with both steel and flame. It is not the steel that worries your…friend (?), but he is wary about the torch and the heat at its head.

Krabat almost seems upset. “But I haven’t found my mother’s ring yet-”

“Fuck you! Fuck you and your mother!”

“Oh, how flattering, but she is spoken for, and I have no preference for men…”

…at some point, you can’t help but wonder if Krabat’s flippancy is a calculated ploy on his part to enrage the sergeant into recklessness. Or whether or not this whole act isn’t an act at all, but just the druid being his borderline insane self. You’d give equal odds to both.

Still, you choose not to intervene, content to keep one eye on the alderman as you watch the druid fight Remi. Giso has nowhere to flee except for the river itself, and he does not strike you as an able swimmer given the bulk of his body. And even for the sergeant’s skills, there’s nothing you have to be too worried about. If Krabat is but half of what the legends say he is, then the likes of a village thug are nothing to him.

“I always knew there was something off about you,” says the thug, brandishing the torch wildly, “Always smiling, always so happy and eager to be in everyone’s company, even if you didn’t make too much of a profit…”

“I simply like humans,” the druid replies, ducking under the burning brand and countering with a strike of his own, “Is there something wrong with that?”

Remi sneers. “Something wrong? You lot aren’t human. Freaks of nature…cursed and wretched bastards…”

The sergeant’s words strike a cold nerve in your body. Wasn’t that how they came to be in the slums? He murdered their father when he tried to sell her off to the Ivory Tower, or worse. And you remember how Bellatrix and Urath reacted to the townsfolk slander of Prince Allanus in Alnerwich.

The simple fact is that not everyone looks upon magic with wide-eyed wonder and marvel. Especially in Aderaveth, where it was the most infamous blood mage that nearly brought about the country’s ruin.

But to your surprise, it seems to evoke something in the gentle giant. His mouth works without saying anything, but his brow furrows severely. And Remi, seeing that his words clearly had an effect, counters with his own taunts:

“Struck a nerve, did I, Green Man? I know what you are, I remember the stories. Living out in the woods, using shit and berries to draw on cave walls…worshiping the fucking trees, stones, puddles of filth. Smearing bird shit and seed on your face in reverence to the wild?”

“Lies and slander,” Krabat says through gritted teeth, and you can visibly see him agitated. His blows stop being playful, becoming more driven and direct. “Falsehoods made by Eridia to justify the conquest of Vethica and the slaughter of our people-”

(cont.)
>>
>>3255607
"Remi, you know you're going to die here, right?"
>>
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>>3255607
“Not my people, you backwater giant,” the sergeant hisses, “My ancestors fought alongside their centurions, the first Vethics to be made auxiliaries of the Eridian legions. We flew Aquliar’s standard and heralded the arrival of civilization to our land, ruled as governors and administrators of a great and mighty empire…before the fucking dragons ruined everything with their own fucking magic.”

The druid’s voice is as cold as hoarfrost. “Then you are a long way from your proper home, and a traitor to your own kind. My ancestors are smiling upon me. Do your ancestors still smile upon you for what you are now, Eridian?”

“They will, once I gut you!” Remi roars, thrusting wildly at the druid. To your surprise and dread, his blade finally manages to cut the oar in half, leaving Krabat with two halves of a broken weapon and only a wooden gauntlet for protection. “Imagine the welcome I’ll receive in Elysium when I tell the judges of Plutus that I killed the last druid!”

Krabat looks at the ruins of his oar, casting the head away before holding the shaft like a short sword or knife. “But you haven’t killed me yet. And even if you did, my ancestor’s legacy will continue on.”

“Then I’ll just have to find your mother, then,” Remi says, “Kill her and then finish off the rest of whatever freak offspring she’s nursed or birthed-”

The druid finally loses his composure. With an earth-shattering roar that echoes in the mountains and scatters flocks of migrating birds, he charges the sergeant. Even as the torch strikes his body, he takes no notice of the smell of burning flesh, swinging wildly at the thug.

“They say that you take companions among wild animals to make your intimate familiars. But the centurions said that sisters lay with brothers, mothers with sons and fathers with daughters. So, how many of her brothers, fathers, sons or animals did your mother have to fuck before she gave birth to you-”

He should not have said that. Even before you see what Krabat is about to do, you know for a fact that Sergeant Remi of Westholm, professional thug of Alderman Giso and piece of human garbage, should not have made that statement.

But by the time said scumbag realizes it, it’s already too late. With his empty hand, Krabat catches the blade of Remi’s sword, hard enough to draw sap and blood from his armor and skin alike. To the torch thrust panicked into his face, he impales the man’s wrist with his splintered weapon.

“Death is not the end, but the mere turning of the Wheel. As one life ends and passes, so too does it nourish the next…” Krabat’s eyes glow with a pale and sickening light, and his voice is joined by another thousand once more. The friendly merchant is gone, and in his place, is a druid from your ancestors’ barbaric past. “Take comfort that your death will be the bed upon which countless generations will flourish. Now, grow…”

Berkanan.

(cont.)
>>
Rest in slightly less stupidity, Remi.
>>
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>>3255690
Remi doesn’t collapse as much as he seizes, and the man’s body almost seems to ripple from where the oar juts from his wrist. But before he say anything, he doubles over, retching and clawing at his stomach. His hands travel upwards, to his chest then throat as something writhes and spasms underneath his skin.

His eyes turn to yours, wide and fearful and pleading for mercy. “H-help-”

The sergeant almost seems to explode in a shower of gore, and Giso screams as the air becomes sharp with the tang of iron. Remi’s singular scream of terror becomes a horrific gurgling, cut off by the violent explosion of branches from his body. From every orifice bursts a sinewy vine, or otherwise force their way out of his body where there is none to be had. As the rod planted within him rapidly grows, taking seconds to accomplish years of natural development, it takes the sergeant’s mangled form into the air.

The best way you can describe the horrible sight is as if Krabat had been inspired by the most horrific executions on the continent. For the Vlennish marauders and Vethic barbarians, they had the ritual of the Blood Eagle, severing the victim’s ribs from the spine, and the lungs pulled to create a pair of wings. That was a peculiar favorite of Archduke Emerich Tarmund, grandfather of Ellana and her siblings, to the point where said act is his epithet after the Bastards’ War.

Then, there is the Eridian crucifixion. Nailing their victims to a cross made out of wood, they would raise the structure and leave them to hang. It is a slow death, one of suffocation or dehydration, lasting for hours or even days. The mere act of keeping one’s head up to breathe properly causes exhaustion. Sometimes, there might even be a healer to prolong the agony of particularly heinous criminals, or the soldiers might show mercy and break their legs to end their struggle.

Sergeant Remi hangs from the tree Krabat planted within him, a twisted and inspired sight. His limbs stretch and twist, breaking apart as the branches growing through his body grow longer with every second. Even the canvas of his own skin tears alongside his clothes, unable to handle the way the limbs and trunk grow and stretch. Sinew and muscle, bone and blood…it’s as if he is being flayed right before your eyes.

Perhaps the worst thing about it is that he is still alive. Somehow, even as roots visibly drink of his guts and organs, and flowering blossoms bear fruit out of the ruined mess of his eyes, the sergeant is not dead. Little bubbles of blood and mucus are forming and popping in the crushed remains of his nostril with every labored movement of his chest.

“Now that’s better…” the druid murmurs quietly, inspecting the man. The man’s breath is under control, and he exhibits none of the anger and aggression he had mere seconds ago. “Finally, some peace and quiet…but really, an oar from the timber of an apple tree? Goodness gracious…”

(cont.)
>>
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Seemingly satisfied with what he’d turned the man into, Krabat plucks an apple off of one of the branches, ignoring the way Remi flinches at the separation of the stem and body. It looks no different from any other apple come the spring time, but in the light of the coiling flame, the red shade of the fruit is like blood. Then, to both Giso’s horror and your growing unease, the druid begins to eat, closing his eyes in a pure, simple bliss as the juices run down the length of his beard.

“…I think I will start an orchard with this,” he chews thoughtfully, pocketing the core of the fruit into his robes upon finishing. “Congratulations, sergeant. I expect that your apples will sell quite well across the Empire come Spring Dawning. I shall call them ‘Remi’s Bounty’, and think fondly of you with every sale I make.”

There is no way Remi could have heard him. You have no doubt that when the branches seemed to explode from the sides of his head, both of his eardrums were destroyed. All he can do is whine and wheeze piteously as he hangs from the tree, slowly suffocating from the hyper-expansion of his chest and lungs. If that does not kill him, then the blood loss will, but both spell a slow and very painful death for Giso’s underling.

You are no stranger to death, nor how it is performed or otherwise given. The blood of dozens of men stain your blades and hands, and if you ever dreamed…perhaps their faces might haunt you. It has always been your companion, from the earliest days with Lucien, to your time with the Locusts…even now, protecting Ellana.

But even someone as twisted and utterly broken as you knows that this kind of death is...

>Grant Remi a merciful death before leaving the barge. [Mercy]
>Leave the sergeant to hang as you return to Westholm. [Punish]
>>
Oh he dead and no one will miss him. I hope Krabat is able to find his mother's ring eventually.
>>
>>3255738
>Grant Remi a merciful death before leaving the barge. [Mercy]
>>
>>3255738
>Grant Remi a merciful death before leaving the barge. [Mercy]
We're nothing if not efficient and this prolonged suffering holds no purpose
>>
>>3255738
>Leave the sergeant to hang as you return to Westholm. [Punish]

Shouldn't have insulted the guys mother. That's what you get.
>>
>>3255755
Didn't the MC removed the tatoo from the guy that raped his loved one? While he was still alive?
>>
>>3255763
That was personal, this is simply Crownguard business
>>
>>3255763
Yeah, but he raped Marcus's loved one. Also, Remi was an asshole, but it hardly warrants becoming an apple tree.
>>
>>3255763
There's making a point and then there's being kinda senseless about it.

I think I'll abdicate this one because he was seriously a dillweed, but in general, if you're going to pull a production number like this, there needs to be a point to it- an audience that will remember and speak of it as a warning or tale. This is just kinda...cruelty for spite's sake.
>>
>>3255738
>Grant Remi a merciful death before leaving the barge. [Mercy]

Just because he's (Remi) a monster doesn't mean we have to become monsters ourselves.

What the fuck Krabat, what the fuck.
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>>3255763
Marcus wasn't in a good place at that time.
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>>3255770
Maybe to us. But it seems pretty personnal for Krabat.

>>3255772
And Remi, insulted Krabat's mother, religion. Although maybe killing him is a good thing since we don't want the royals to see this bullshit. If having the necromancer decapitated perturbed the royals wonder what a guy attached to a tree would do.
>>
>>3255776
He's a Druid.
Nature isn't all green grass and apple trees, it's also red in tooth and claw. For all the beauty their is an underlying predatory savagery
>>
>>3255775
>>3255777
The villagers will probably cut down the tree anyway. Or burn it.
>>
>>3255738
>Grant Remi a merciful death before leaving the barge. [Mercy]
We also should probably trim the tree parts. If we dont want people asking how the fuck that happened.
>>3255739
At least we should tell him to check out the shrine of the drowned lady. If someone found ring it should be there.
>>
I also just realized that people were always doing the boat joke and only now realize that we are in a actual boat now. kek
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>>3255797
Considering the tree grew out on a boat...i think we can safely say it was magic.

Also good call on the drowed lady shrine. Not like she will ever use it again. Man we are pretty lucky we managed to find a necromancer and a druid in a single village.
>>
>>3255738
>Leave the sergeant to hang as you return to Westholm. [Punish]
Remi was just a fucking idiot. But he was also such a stupid, racist, brainwashed idiot to insult everything that Krabat stands for that he kinda deserves it. Marcus in particular doesnt have a leg to stand on for criticizing the action given the tattoo thing.

....dont ever tell Elanna though.
>>
>>3255738
>Grant Remi a merciful death before leaving the barge. [Mercy]

Here's hoping Krabat doesn't get mad at us.
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>>3246305
>“Giso must be taken alive,”
>>3255738
As capable of interrogation Krabat. What the fuck Krabat.
>>
>>3255738
>>Grant Remi a merciful death before leaving the barge. [Mercy]
>>
>>3255815
This guy is Remi not Giso anon.
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>>3255803
>magic
That's a problem. Where the fuck did it come from Marcus?!
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>>3255820
Right... I was never good with names...
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>>3255823
obviously this is the work of the drowed lady spirit who cursed the soldiers that allowed the necromancer to be killed.
>>
>>3255738
>Grant Remi a merciful death before leaving the barge. [Mercy]

Had Krabat punished Remi for his crimes I wouldn't have minded this. However, torturing someone over mere shit-talking seems a bit too excessive from Marcus' POV.
>>
>>3255782
The question is, are Druids monsters or not, not are they capable of being one but if they choose to be.
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>>3255744
>>3255755
>>3255776
>>3255797
>>3255813
>>3255816
>>3255874
The blade makes a wet noise as it pierces through Remi’s skull. An ordinary dagger might have bounced off the hardened bone of a human skull, but the magic of your blade makes it an easy enough task. The sergeant seizes, and the tree trembles violently as its host spasms and twitches in his death throes. And then he is still, as peaceful as he can be given his…unique circumstances.

Krabat’s face is a tempest of emotions. Surprise at the dagger, dismay at Remi’s death, anger directed towards you, then wonder at the returning blade. He struggles to come up with a decisive emotion, before settling on a pointed confusion:

“Why did you kill him? He might have given me many more apples, and been properly punished for the crimes you pursue him for.”

“A mercy,” you answer quietly, “…killing him is punishment enough, but that…that’s too much for just mere words. And it’s not him I’m after. It’s the alderman, right over there…”

How hypocritical. Are you not the same man who flayed the tattoo from a man’s skin because of the way he mocked you? Then again, you did give him a quick death when you’d finished the deed...no, no you didn’t. You castrated him and left him to bleed or otherwise freeze to death, whichever came first.

Still, the point is moot, considering you have not a single ounce of talent for magic. And you didn’t turn a man into a fucking apple tree.

But even as you point towards the alderman, Giso is nowhere to be seen. For a brief moment, you panic, thinking that he might have taken his chances with frostbite than with a psychotic druid…until you see the man collapsed onto the deck. It seems that he has fainted. How disappointing.

The druid frowns, but shrugs. “Ah, very well. This is, your hunt, after all. I hope you’ll forgive me of robbing you of your kill…here. You can have all of the apples left on the tree. The seeds will grow quickly, not as quick as this, but you will have a bountiful harvest within a few seasons. And the fruit itself…simply divine. You could make an apple pie, cover them with chocolate, or eat them raw…”

“No, no,” you politely refuse, gesturing towards…the mess. There are few lines you have yet to cross, but you are not too eager to partake of fruit grown out of a man’s corpse. “By all means. Your tree, your fruit. Consider us even for each of our aid.”

“Oh, good! I was worried that I might have offended you. Still,” he muses, looking back towards Remi’s corpse. “…I’m actually surprised myself that he was still alive, even after the rune of power. For a human, he certainly is resilient.”

You look at the slow puddle of blood and sap that drips from the holes in his body. “Not any more, he isn’t.”

(cont.)
>>
The two of you are quick to get to work. With both manpower and a small amount of primal magic, the barge is run aground on the shore. All of the bodies are disposed of, thrown over the side and into the river depths. Even the macabre display of Remi’s corpse is disposed of, but only once Krabat extracted all the apples and their seeds. His great serpent of fire devours the tree and its host, without even harming the deck of the barge. As for Giso, the alderman is tied up, and tossed into the fishing dory.

But not before Krabat thoroughly searches the man, even reaching into the alderman’s trousers and boots! Alas, he can find nothing, and the fat rings on his fingers are not the simple bands of a married woman…or druidess. None of them would do. If Krabat is allergic to iron, then you’d be more than willing to bet that his mother is as well.

Suddenly, you perk up, remembering something that Silverow had said. “Krabat.”
“Hmmm?”

“Did you happen to know anything about the ‘Drowned Lady’…”

>You tell the druid about the Drowned Lady and her shrine on the Boat Graveyard.

The man claps his hands in delight. “A necromancer! Fascinating…and to think, she was hidden from under my nose this entire time, and I usually have a keen nose for the undead. But if what you say is true, then surely my mother’s ring must be on the island.”

You nod. “Aye. That’s the most likely place for it. Apparently, she’s been harvesting artifacts from the river.”

“Searching for her own thing as well…poor woman. Necromancy is such a vile art.”

“And not Blood Magic?”

He waves his hand. “A different flavor of unnatural and evil perversion. But I reserve a particular disdain for the undead.

“Still…” he stands up, stretching, “…I must be going. The sooner I get to the shrine, the more time I’ll have to search. And I believe you need to be returning back to Westholm…”

Forty minutes down the river…you’d need at least two hours at the minimum to get back to the village. And that was just with a horse, and not the extra baggage of a fat alderman. But it is as if Krabat reads your mind. He touches the fishing dory, and murmurs a series of runes. The boat glows softly among the reeds and willow trees.

“It will go against the tide until it reaches Westholm,” he says, helping you load the alderman into the dory, “It will return home to its point of origin, somewhere along the bank where it was made. At least, that is what it said.”

You blink. “…you don’t mean to say that the boat is alive.”

“A boat is made up of timbers…and they’re never dead. Each has a story to tell, even without words, and all it takes is a druid to listen to them.”

>>Do you have any parting words or questions for Krabat the druid?
>>Having made a good impression with him, he will answer some, but only up to a certain degree.
>Custom-option. [Write-in]

Sleeeeeeep
>>
>>3255937
Compliment Krabat for his work and express disappointment that your lack of magical talent/knowledge prevents you from truly admiring the feats he has performed.
Then silently reminisce about how our dead girlfriend would've enjoyed talking magic theory with him
>>
>>3255953
But also advise him not to make anymore treemen because of how traceable it is.
>>
>>3255906
>How hypocritical. Are you not the same man who flayed the tattoo from a man’s skin because of the way he mocked you? Then again, you did give him a quick death when you’d finished the deed...no, no you didn’t. You castrated him and left him to bleed or otherwise freeze to death, whichever came first.
The difference is that Zera was personally involved in the rape and murder of Marcus' loved one while Remi was turned into a magic tree because he talked shit.

There's a sliiiiiiight difference between these two offences.
>>
>>3255969
This. Krabat comes off as a raging bastard in this one for killing a guy for talking shit about his mom.
Marcus had the excuse of avenging his dead waifu.
>>
>>3255979
To be fair, Krabat is one of the very last Druids left alive, so he's probably very, very attached to what little family he has left.
>>
>>3255986
>t. Krabat
Although it IS that way from Krabat's point of view. But only his.
...is Kaz manipulating us into political discussion?
>>
>>3255937
>Ask if he knows about dragonic jewels, and what they're used for.
>Check if there's any wood on Serena's dagger. Ask if it's got anything to say.
>Warn him of the shapeshifter blood mage taking action.
>Given the public perception of druids, would you prefer I give more....accurate.....accounts of druid magic in public?
>It has been an honor, seeing a true druid at work.
>>
Heya Kaz, I've been reading the archives for this and am currently at thread 13.5.
There's one minor issue I have: when somebody pointed out that in german grammar the plural for Blutling would be Blutlinge, not Blutlings, you started using that, and it's correct - however, only for the plural. The singular would simply be Blutling.
Greatly enjoying the quest, it's just something that's been bugging me, as I'm German myself.
>>
>>3255937
>>Do you have any parting words or questions for Krabat the druid?
"Hey Krabat. If you aren't human what exactly are you?"
>>
>>3255979
> What are the Fae

Monsters, albeit pretty monsters that talk like men and aid as easily as hurt, and more often if properly approached.

But still monsters. Best left alone, for as one can see their views of right and wrong are not like ours at all.

Also Marcus was in a bad place where he was seeking death. He's not that person any more, if person and not Monster is the right word to describe what he was then.

That's part of why our duty to Ellana is so important, because she gave us a new life as a man after we threw ours away.
>>
>>3255937
> Hey Krabat, how can we recognize and avoid offending your Mother should we run into her?

And by extension others of his kind.
>>
Hmm, either we've already seen the ring, just in passing.

Or somebody used it to pay Carris with.
>>
>>3256724
There were mentions of rings, but nothing in particular that would resemble what his mother lost. At least not recently.

If she lost it near water and someone found it. If that person was local probably they dropped it at drowned lady shrine. As people here are shitless scared of that legend.
>>
>>3255937
>Do you have any parting words or questions for Krabat the druid?

Thank him for assistance.
Ask if he could told us something that would help us find him in the future.
Ask him if he have any pointers when dealing with a powerful blood mage.
Ask him if he would have any advice for a mage with fire affinity.
>>
>>3256733
>At least not recently.
>implying the last thread was recent
But yeah, it's probably on the island, I'm just overthinking it.
>>
>>3256125
Ahhh, okay. Thank you very much for your support and for the correction, I will be sure to keep that in mind for future updates. Prosit!

Writing...
>>
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>>3255953
Unfastening the strap of your gauntlet, you extend your bare hand out towards him. “Thank you for your help. Truly. I don’t exaggerate when I say that I couldn’t have done this without you.”

The ghost of a smile might have appeared on your lips. She would have loved to meet Krabat. There’s no doubt that more than half of your amazement is because of watching her attempt to master magic and read books you’d stolen. Certainly, the unexpected cultural pride at the druid’s survival is something Lucien never taught you.

“You certainly gave a better account than the tales possibly could have. The Eridians had good reason to fear what you could do.”

He looks at your hand curiously before returning the gesture. The skin of his hand is coarse and calloused as you shake, almost like mitts of thick and hardened flesh. But his smile is warm enough, and his voice his usual jolly baritone, “Of course I did.”

“Although…” You cast a wary glance towards the black scorch mark on the deck, the only sign of Remi’s existence. “Perhaps you should refrain from planting trees in the bodies of men. They stand out far too much if you wish to keep a low profile.”

He thinks about it, before nodding resolutely. “Then I’ll be sure to only do it to small clusters of men that I have no intent of leaving alive.”

>>3256082
>Ask if he knows about dragonic jewels, and what they're used for.

“Dragons? Now why would you need to know…ah, well, given the recent drakling, I suppose you’d only be curious about the scaly ones.

“My knowledge about anything concerning the dragons is finite and limited. But I do know that dragongems can be used as catalysts for magic. Of course, that depends on where you harvest them from, since most are just gallstones used to digest food, and shat out once they become too hard. Can you imagine some pompous high sorcerer, wearing a stone and strutting about like a proud peacock, not knowing that the most important part of his necklace could have once been in a pile of drakling shit?

“But even a demidrake the likes of a drakling contain echoes of their progenitor’s power. There’s a reason why even those things are worth their weight in gold. An experienced sorcerer could use them to augment his or her own natural power. Although, I’ve heard strange tales of the kingdoms beyond the Whrelzwth, and how they ground up the gems and snort them for the sake of, ah, 'verility'...”

Firja didn’t strike you as one possessing a spark. As far as you know, she isn’t a magic user, merely adopting the moniker of a ‘witch’ to compliment her status as a barbarian cultist. But no matter what she calls herself, seven dragongems of inferior quality in the likes of her hands spell bad news. Maybe not for the Crowmonds or the Empire in the immediate future, but still a note of worry.

Nothing good ever comes with worshiping the dragons.

(cont.)
>>
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>Check if there's any wood on Serena's dagger. Ask if it's got anything to say.

“I swear, I’m not trying to poison you!” you say, exasperated as you present the dagger of the blade to him, hilt first. “The finish is corded leather, wrapped around a wooden grip. You’ll not be touching any of the iron.”

He protests, “But the pommel-”

Rolling your eyes, you unscrew the pommel, and only then does he accept the dagger once you put it away. Gingerly. For a man as large as he is, he certainly is surprisingly skittish. It’s as if you’ve presented him with a venomous snake that might bite him at any moment.

Once he gets over his apprehension, he marvels at your weapon, murmuring something underneath his breath. He inspects the runes along the hilt, marveling at the enchantment Emeron’s sorcerers worked into the metal. “…and what is it exactly that you want me to do?”

“…does it have anything to say?” you ask in a quiet voice. “Underneath the leather cords, the grip is…some kind of wood, I don’t know what. Does it have anything to say?”

"I see...but why?”

You give him no answer.

“…oh, very well…”

Careful to not touch the end of the blade, he presses a finger against the leather, then brushes against the wooden handle. His eyes close, fluttering briefly as he concentrates on…listening, you suppose. For a few moments, nothing seems to happen, and here you are, waiting like some kind of fool in the freezing winter for one of the last druids to interpret what your dagger has to say.

And then he begins to weep.

Even as his eyes remain closed, and his concentration is unbroken, tears eke out from the corners of his eyes. And when he opens them, he takes a labored breath, dropping the weapon into the snow from nerveless fingers. He stands there, staring at nothing as he struggles to get his breathing under control.

Then Krabat turns to you, with eyes wet with sorrow. And in a voice rough and hoarse with emotion, he exhales, “Oh, Marcus…I’m so sorry…”

Again, you say nothing, picking up her dagger from where he dropped it. But the silence between the two of you as you mend the blade speaks more than any scream or rending cry ever could. The mild weather certainly does not help. Idiot as you were to re-open the wound in your heart, especially with the confusion over Carris, you would have preferred a storm or a blizzard. At least, the world could match the tempest of emotion that boils and froths within you.

“…she loved you dearly,” the druid eventually says, rubbing his eyes with the sleeve of his robe, “The wood was gently carved by her hand, not with magic, and I could feel the warmth and kindness she left within it. This weapon was created so you might overcome any foe that stands against you and survive to live another day…with or without her-”

Don’t.” you cut him off, and even you’re surprised at how rough your voice is.

(cont.)
>>
>>3256924
rough, but it's good to know, I think.
>>
>>3256924
>“Don’t.” you cut him off
Marcus, you asked the nice magic man to do this, at least be polite.
>>
>>3256924
>“The wood was gently carved by her hand, not with magic, and I could feel the warmth and kindness she left within it. This weapon was created so you might overcome any foe that stands against you and survive to live another day…with or without her-”
>>
Bleah. Work. I'll finish the rest of this when I get back tonight.
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>>3256924
>>
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>>3256924
>“…she loved you dearly,” the druid eventually says, rubbing his eyes with the sleeve of his robe, “The wood was gently carved by her hand, not with magic, and I could feel the warmth and kindness she left within it. This weapon was created so you might overcome any foe that stands against you and survive to live another day…with or without her-”
>“Don’t.” you cut him off, and even you’re surprised at how rough your voice is.
bruh
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>>3256924
Damn Kaz. You're an amazing writer. I have actual tears in my eyes
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>>3256924
Heh. We got him to handle our wood.
>>
>>3257315
Our gf's wood.
>>
>>3257315
>>3257633
Is this NTR?
>>
>>3257315
They've even been shipped together.
>>
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Oh yeah, reminder from last thread.
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>>3257887
I don't understand.
>>
>>3256924
>>
What timezone is Kaz in again?
>>
>>3258234
EST. American east coast.

There is no real schedule to his updates if that's what you're asking though.
>>
>>3258267
Nah, I was wondering what was up with his work hours.
>>
>>3259153
The place I work at fixes its hours weird, so I could be leaving as early as 5 or 6 PM or be closing the place and leave at 1 AM. It stinks, but it is what it is.
>>
>>3259236
Fair enough. How's your head?
>>
>>3259246
Only hurts when I rub the bump on it. Swelling's gone down, no more pain, the only thing that's been eating at me is my fucked sleeping hours.

Writing...
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>>3256924
“You’re going to come with us, of course? My brother said that there’s room for one more on the caravan. It’ll be the four of us, Reina and I, and each our own Marcus, off to a new life away from the Empire.”

You aren’t completely able to rein your emotions in, but you manage as best you can. A stoic appearance is expected of you. A Crownguard cannot allow their emotions to ruin them. But there’s no doubt in that this is going to hurt for a long time, even after you might reach Mont Gormaic.

“…you are not your father, and you are not a monster. Shut up, you stubborn fool, and let me into your arms…”

…the dagger was something that only came into your possession shortly before the betrayal that killed all of the Locusts. Something that would only hold memories of the latter years of your time together. How easy for Krabat to say such a thing, you think bitterly, when the dagger would not know the full impact that Serena Koltz on your wretched life.

“Marcus, it doesn’t matter how long, or where you go. I will always be where the path of your life takes you, where destiny chooses to take you, every small and large step of the way…

>Warn him of the shapeshifter blood mage taking action.

Without revealing the finer details of the events leading up to the encounter, you give a clipped, if not somewhat stiff, account of your encounter with the Warlock of Envy. In as clinical terms as possible, without as much embellishment of how close the battle might have been with his homunculus. You are in no mood for grand theatrics tonight.

“I will be careful. Thank you for the warning.” His reply is even and measured, a sharp contrast to the tears that still run down the side of his face. “I could count the number of encounters I had with them on the small of my fingers, but I should have ample time to prepare countermeasures should the worst happen.”

Perhaps the message within the blade was just that strong, or the druid is just that emotional of a man. Certainly, he seems to experience great bouts of warm amicability, terrifying levels of a cruel wroth…now a deep and sympathetic sorrow.

>Given the public perception of druids, would you prefer I give more....accurate.....accounts of druid magic in public?

He smiles, in spite of himself. “Oh, no. Let the rest of our kin think that we are all dead. Do not trouble yourself in correcting the mistakes and lies within those tales. Let them think that we are dead. The Verdant Hour will come when we are ready for it, and not before. The knowledge that even a single one knows of our true nature is comfort enough.”

“‘The Verdant Hour’?” you repeat suspiciously. What an ominous title. “If that is what you wish, then I will keep your secret. But what about Giso? He’ll have looser lips than a fishmonger’s wife when he wakes up.”

(cont.)

Fucking italics
>>
>>3259336
>Fucking italics
If it means anything to you Kaz, nobody saw anything.
>>
>>3259336
Krabat points to your belt. “I couldn’t help but notice that you are an alchemist. And I could smell the distinct remnants of Hazeleaf both on your equipment as well as half a barrel full of the narcotic. They might believe that he had ‘sampled’ his own product during his escape, or you otherwise dosed him to subdue the man.

“As for the Verdant Hour…” he smiles enigmatically. “An event that only the Eridians should have to worry about…”

>>It has been an honor, seeing a true druid at work.

He seems almost offended. “What do you mean a ‘real druid’? You don’t mean to say-”

“That there are murmurs and pretenders who pretend to be druids,” you conclude hastily, “Liars and charlatans who think a fake beard and a gnarled staff makes them a Green Man or Woman.”

For the first time since you’ve met him, the man appears to be genuinely gobsmacked. And you could hardly blame him.

“…hah…” he exhales heavily, “…then perhaps I shall need to pay a visit to these charlatans and frauds…and show them the power of a true druid.”

“No killing or any gaudy displays that leave them bloodied and in crippling agony, but barely alive."

“Oh, very well…”

>>3256413
>>"Hey Krabat. If you aren't human what exactly are you?"

He blinks, perplexed by the question. “What do you mean? I am just as human as you are.”

>>3256451
>> Hey Krabat, how can we recognize and avoid offending your Mother should we run into her?
“Oh, you need not worry,” he says with a dismissive wave of his hands. “Mother rarely gets out these days, and she’d never get anywhere near a settlement with more people than Westholm, or any other small village. She doesn’t like cities very much. All you really need to do is not mention anything about Eridia or organized religion, and keep any iron on you as far away from her as possible. Her allergy is even worse than mine, Green bless her.”

“…and what about others of your kind?” you say, only half-jokingly as you wince, “I have no desire to accidentally offend you and have a tree growing out of my eyes.”

“As I said, you need not worry. My brethren already know that you are to be trusted, so they will forgive any accidental egress or offense on your part. I took the liberty of informing them after you helped me back to the village…and I shall let them know about tonight’s events, and the part you and I played in them. So you are now a friend to the Circle, the first in as many years!”

His warm tone and smile do absolutely nothing to ease the sudden pit of unease in your stomach. How wonderful. Is there any secret cabal in the continent that does not know of you? First the Warlock of Envy and the Blood Mages, then Firja and the Dragon Cultists, and now Krabat and the…whatever the druids call their little group.

What’s the next to approach you, a necromancer’s coven?

(cont.)
>>
>>3259344
>“As for the Verdant Hour…” he smiles enigmatically. “An event that only the Eridians should have to worry about…”
>Druid 9/11
Well I have a new favorite quest. Get the fuck outta here, Pantsu Commander.
>>
>>3259344
>necromancer’s coven
I mean, Marcus just took a bath in dead drakling. I think that gives him a +10 approval rating with necromancers or something when he has to start bragging.
>>
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>>3259344
>>3256746
>>Ask if he could tell us something that would help us find him in the future.
From his neck, he picks up the fetish of an acorn, a delicately carved wooden trinket hanging from a leather thong. Musing at it for a brief moment, he murmurs a rune of power, imbuing it with that same magic that fills your senses with a distant dream of spring. Removing it, he places it in your expecting hand.

“Murmur the rune Ehwaz,” he says, “And the charm will be drawn to me like the magnet of a compass. And it will glow warm if I am within ten leagues of your location.”

>>Ask him if he have any pointers when dealing with a powerful blood mage.
“The Crimson Ones draw their magic from the latent power of their own and their victim’s blood. My advice? Bleed them dry, chill their bodies or poison their blood to rob and sap them of their power. Kill them with a thousand tiny cuts or a singular strong blow, but be swift about it. The more corpses around a battlefield, they can draw the blood from their victims and empower themselves to fight further. A battle of attrition against an experienced Warlock is a suicidal endeavor.”

>>Ask him if he would have any advice for a mage with fire affinity.
He frowns, crossing his arms beneath his barrel-chested frame. “I am a druid, Marcus. High Sorcery is just as foreign and anathematic to me as Eridia itself. I’m afraid that I can offer no any practical aid or help in that regard.

“But if I were to give advice…” he muses, thinking to himself. “…fire is an element of passion and life, not only one of ruin and death. Occasionally, I will use flame to trim away corrupted hedgerow and other fetid growths harming my garden, or to cook my dinner when I have no flint or tinder. A force of both Creation and one of Destruction, though only often mistaken as something only for the latter. Let them know that they aren’t just a brand or torch that wantonly sets things ablaze.”

Unless Silverow already taught that to Allanus…but you make a not to speak to your comrade about that at a later date.

With no more questions, the two of you prepare to go your separate ways. You shake hands one more time, but just as you prepare to hop into the dory, he stops you with a call of your name.

“Marcus, about what the dagger said…” He hesitates, seeing the look on your face. “Let me preface by saying that I can’t even begin to imagine what she meant to you…quite literally, actually. For all my travels, I’ve never really had any profound love of my own.”

Gauche as it was, his attempt to lighten up the mood causes you to laugh. It’s an ugly noise, a bleak and derisive chuckle that dies before it even has a chance to form properly.

(cont.)
>>
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He almost looks hurt at your response, but he presses on, “…I sensed your anger…your self-loathing and hatred for yourself…and the guilt of having lived when she did not. But bottling up your emotions like some fire sorcerer isn’t going to help.”

“…like you said, Krabat,” you answer bitterly, “You know nothing, even with the dagger. Those are just emotions without context…and you’ll forgive me if I’m not too keen on sharing anything.”

“But even I can tell that you’ve had no time to mourn,” he answers solemnly, “You are hurt and have had no chance to move on, let alone bury her properly in your mind-”

>>Choose one:
>“Her loss is still too vivid, even months after everything that’s happened since that night.” [Sorrow]
>“I fucked a whore the other day, does that count as moving on or moving in?” [Sarcasm]
>“Mourning will change nothing. All of my tears and blood will not bring her back.” [Bitter]
>“Serena Koltz is the only woman I will ever love, in this life and in the one beyond.” [Regret]
>“There is no time to mourn, as I now have a Crownguard’s duty to carry out.” [Stoic]
>“You were not there when I found her body, so how would you know anything?!” [Angry]
>Custom option. [Write-in]

The druid purses his lips. “…very well. Then, before I leave, if I may just offer one final thing?”

“…make it quick,” you murmur darkly, “So we can still part on good terms.”

“…I could hear them, you know. The echoes of the men that have died to your blade. Both the emotions she imbued into the grip, as well as that profound grief that I felt…I tasted their fears, their regrets, the last thoughts they had before they died.”

He looks at you with a concerned expression. “I know for a fact that you are not some heartless killer…you have a reason to wield your blade against your enemies. But your blade has drunk deeply of powerful blood, beyond that of your fellow man. And I fear that in the coming days ahead, even through no fault of your own, the value of life will be lost upon you as you carry out your duty.

“So, for your sake, Marcus…would you like to know how many men you have killed with that blade, right up to this point where you stand before me?”

>>Choose one:
>“I do not wish to bear the burden of that knowledge.”
>“…tell me how many lives I have claimed with it.”
>“You overstep your bounds, Green Man.”

>>For a two-part choice, please structure your votes/responses like this:
>“Serena Koltz is the only woman I will ever love, in this life and in the one beyond.” [Regret]
>“I do not wish to bear the burden of that knowledge.”
>>
>>3259471
>“Her loss is still too vivid, even months after everything that’s happened since that night.” [Sorrow]
>“…tell me how many lives I have claimed with it.”
Gotta slap a CSGO kill counter on the dagger.
>>
>>3259471
>“Serena Koltz is the only woman I will ever love, in this life and in the one beyond.” [Regret]

>“…tell me how many lives I have claimed with it.”
I hope this option means Kaz has an autistic tally of all of Marcus' kills.
>>
>>3259471
>“Mourning will change nothing. All of my tears and blood will not bring her back.” [Bitter]
>“…tell me how many lives I have claimed with it.”
>>
>>3259471
>“Her loss is still too vivid, even months after everything that’s happened since that night.” [Sorrow]
>“…tell me how many lives I have claimed with it.”
>>
>>3259471
>“Mourning will change nothing. All of my tears and blood will not bring her back.” [Bitter]
>“…tell me how many lives I have claimed with it.”
>>
>>3259471
>“Serena Koltz is the only woman I will ever love, in this life and in the one beyond.” [Regret]
>“…tell me how many lives I have claimed with it.”
>>
>>3259471
“Serena Koltz is the only woman I will ever love, in this life and in the one beyond.” [Regret]
>“…tell me how many lives I have claimed with it.”

I wonder if we can get bonuses based on the number of people who died by this blade.
>>
>>3259344
. . . You ever play Paranoia, Kaz?
>>
>>3259471
>“Mourning will change nothing. All of my tears and blood will not bring her back.” [Bitter]
>“…tell me how many lives I have claimed with it.”
>>
>>3259471
>“Her loss is still too vivid, even months after everything that’s happened since that night.” [Sorrow]
>“…tell me how many lives I have claimed with it.”
>>
>>3259471
>Custom option. [Write-in]

"These pains are the last gasps of a dead man. The man I was died with her, died that day in the gutter. The person I am now is just raw with learning to live again. But I've been lucky enough to find something, someone else to live for. I will never love another woman in the way I did . . . Her . . . But I'm seeking life, not death now" (Optimistic)

Thanks Carris for fucking our biggest trauma block away! I'm not in love with being miserable, now we can truly move on.

As for the blade

> What makes you think I've ever forgotten the men slain by my blade? Do you think I don't hear them, or the sorrows of their loved ones who had people they cared about taken away? When you truly learn how cheap life is, you also learn how precious it is. Some men love the taking of it even more upon the realization, but that was never me.

> Getting told that by the dude who turned someone into a tree for running his mouth.
>>
>>3259471
>“Serena Koltz is the only woman I will ever love, in this life and in the one beyond.” [Regret]
>“…tell me how many lives I have claimed with it.”
>>
>>3259592
I also based my write in on Ellana's reaction to us coming back from the Drakling. It's not enough to die for her, we gotta do our best to live for her if we want to protect that smile.
>>
>>3259551
I can't see us getting a bonus without a malus attached to something like that.
>>
>>3259471
>“Mourning will change nothing. All of my tears and blood will not bring her back.” [Bitter]
>“…tell me how many lives I have claimed with it.”
There will be many more.
>>
>>3259600
But if we lose to someone is a fight does that mean it's okay to die?
>>
>>3259626
Not unless the alternative is Ellana dying.

Or the other Crowmunds. For now. Royalty sometimes strains relationships.

Just have your ghost possess your body and keep stabbing.
>>
>>3259471
>“Her loss is still too vivid, even months after everything that’s happened since that night.” [Sorrow]
>“…tell me how many lives I have claimed with it.”
>>
>>3259471
>>“Her loss is still too vivid, even months after everything that’s happened since that night.” [Sorrow]
>>“…tell me how many lives I have claimed with it.”
>>
>>3259592
I like the first part, dunno about the blade bit.

>>3259471
>“…tell me how many lives I have claimed with it.”
>>
>>3259773
Just now we were wracked with self doubt as to if we were any better than Krabat, despite our mercy killing a dude who was being tortured to death, because we haven't forgotten what we did to Tattoo. We weren't self justifying about it or anything.

So that heavily influenced my decision to ask what right Krabat has, in turn, to worry about us being callous.

What is worse, to kill a person viciously with intentional cruelty for personal satisfaction, or to kill many coldly for a practical goal but not carelessly or self indulgently?

The answer is that both are bad, it's only good to kill when necessary to survive and it's better to actively work to avoid that necessity.

Like.

You can't intentionally put yourself in a deadly situation and then go "THEY WERE COMING RIGHT FOR US" and be a good person.
>>
>>3259592
I will back this. At least the (Optimistic) bit.
>>
>>3259471
>“You were not there when I found her body, so how would you know anything?!” [Angry]
>“…tell me how many lives I have claimed with it.”

It's true, Marcus kept it bottled up for a long time now. So let it out a little, show some of that pain to the world, let him actually be angry and emotional at something. Perhaps it's unfair to snap at Krabat but if a character is flawless and without weaknesses then it's shitty character.

Finally, the turmoil Carris caused is too much for me to believe any sort of optimism on Marcus' part on this matter.
>>
Honestly, combining Sorrow, Bitterness, and Regret really sums up Marcus's feelings on the affair.
>>
>>3259592
I'll support this
>>
>>3259471
>“Mourning will change nothing. All of my tears and blood will not bring her back.” [Bitter]
>>
>>3259592
The first part needs some major revision to not sound edgy. Second part is a no go for me.
>>
>>3259788
I wouldn’t argue with you on the morals of it all, but it still doesn’t seem in character to be too optimistic or to lash out at Krabat. Is Marcus changing for the (morally, for why that’s worth) better? It’s starting to look that way to me at least, but he wasn’t always concerned with the ethics of killing and it seems unlikely that he would’ve bothered to keep track.
>>
>>3259471
>“Her loss is still too vivid, even months after everything that’s happened since that night.” [Sorrow]
>>
>>3259471
>“Mourning will change nothing. All of my tears and blood will not bring her back.” [Bitter]
>“I do not wish to bear the burden of that knowledge.”
>>
>>3260092
I'm not opposed to revisions.

But I would like Marcus to look forward, not backward.

And he's an autistic assassin, edge is kinda his thing.
>>
>>3259471
>“Mourning will change nothing. All of my tears and blood will not bring her back.” [Bitter]
>“…tell me how many lives I have claimed with it.”
>>
>>3259471
>“Mourning will change nothing. All of my tears and blood will not bring her back.” [Bitter]
>“…tell me how many lives I have claimed with it.”
>>
>>3259471
>“Mourning will change nothing. All of my tears and blood will not bring her back.” [Bitter]
>“…tell me how many lives I have claimed with it.”
>>
>>3252527
Konrad is a Primarch and all Primarchs were more or less handsome motherfuckers.
>>
>>3261544
Sanguinius though.

Best Primarch hands down, pretty precious hawk boy.
>>
>>3261544
Konrad's face is fuuuucked.

>>3260980
He's getting better.

Honestly, my issue is your word choice. It's too flowery. Marcus doesn't talk that way.
>>
>>3261612
Fair 'nuff
>>
>>3242320
Hey Kaz, whatcha cosplaying?
>>
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>>3263058
Friday, I’ll be lugging around a cardboard prop of the Persona 5 Battle menu UI with some buddies of mine. Saturday, I’ll be donning my red robes and golden face paint as Raistlin Majere from Dragonlance, complete with a handmade Staff of Magius with a flashlight built into the staff head.
>>
>>3259471
>“Serena Koltz is the only woman I will ever love, in this life and in the one beyond.” [Regret]

Single Marcus faction rep
>>
>>3261544
>all Primarchs were more or less handsome motherfuckers
>what are Konrad, Mortarion, Vulkan and Ferrus Manus
>>
>>3263818
More or less handsome motherfuckers.
>>
>>3263440
>Persona 5 Battle menu UI

Huh. Didn't see that coming.
>>
>>3263837
I think the phrase you're looking for is "ugly mofos."
>>
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>>3263837
If you say Frank Castle on steroids is handsome, then who am I to argue?
>>
>>3263877
I don't, Fulgrim does.
>>
>>3263890
>you're actually Fulgrim
Then why did you circle around the point this whole time? You could've just told us from the beginning that you thought Ferrus was hot.
>>
>>3259471

>“Mourning will change nothing. All of my tears and blood will not bring her back.” [Bitter]
>“I do not wish to bear the burden of that knowledge.”
>>
>>3242320
Hey Kaz, did you see an awesome Milady cosplay?
>>
>>3269538
I sure did! I actually saw a lot of interesting Persona 5 cosplay. Didn't finish the signs in time for the scheduled Persona 5 shoot, but my friends (cosplaying as Skull/Ryuji and Crow/Akechi) and I got mobbed throughout the day by people asking for either our pictures or to be in the center of the UI. Case in point, we got so into a shoot with a small crowd, two people photo-bombed the shoot and shouted "Captain Kidd!" and "LOKI" and all we could think of was "damn, those were really good impressions".

Turns out we just missed Max Mittleman and Robbie Daymond, and I didn't even have someone taking video or photos for our sake. Little bummed out, but beyond giddy that that happened. We got to meet up with them for autographs and they had a good laugh about it.

And only six people recognized me as Raistlin but most of them were cute girls, so that's alright.
>>
>>3270288
Did you get their numbers?
>>
>>3270288
so hey, Kaz. You said that Marcus was already claimed, probably by the shadow or whatever his patron is called, but does he know of that? surely it would be IC to ask the druid if it would be possible to learn primal magic if we don’t know that the spectres dream is magic.

Also you mentioned that Marcus doesn’t have the spark, but im pretty sure you stated that he did, but wasnt trained, in an earlier thread. Did you forget or did you retconn it?
>>
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>>3270478
Nah, I wasn’t there for any of that. Just friendly mingling.

>>3270665
I’m nearly 99% sure that I mentioned that the Spark/Core is something Marcus doesn’t have. He just picked up a “taste” for magic after living with Serena for years on end, and some middling knowledge/trivia about magic in general. I went off on a blurb one thread about how people with Sparks/Cores are exceedingly rare, but I’m fairly certain that I said that Marcus doesn’t have it. You’re either born with it or you aren’t.

And sure, I’ll throw that question in there. That’s fair enough.
>>
>>3270665
Nothing abit of digging through past threads won't solve. If you find the post, link it to us.
>>
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>>3259481
>>3259489
>>3259490
>>3259492
>>3259547
>>3259551
>>3259582
>>3259586
>>3259594
>>3259610
>>3259743
>>3259751
>>3259773
>>3259841
>>3260062
>>3260159
>>3260331
>>3261015
>>3261365
>>3261407
>>3263811
>>3265431
“…what’s the point in mourning?” you answer bitterly, almost spitting through clenched teeth. “It changes nothing. No amount of tears, not even all of my blood…there’s nothing that I could do to bring her back.”

Krabat’s face is stern. “…do you think you are the first man to suffer the loss of a loved one?”

“No, but I’m not like most men.”

“I have little doubt about that. But grief is a necessary road for you to travel if you wish to move on-”
You cut him off, demanding, “…and if I don’t?”

“…I don’t understand? Why would you not-”

It hurts to say her name, but you manage to wrench it out of your throat without choking on the emotions it brings. “Serena Koltz is the only woman I will ever love, in this life and in the one beyond.”

“That doesn’t mean you can’t-”

“That is my choice, Krabat. It’s…her death is still too vivid for me to even think about things like that.”
For a moment, he looks like he might move closer, offer a hand in solidarity. But the druid thinks, and wisely remains where he stands, silently pondering as you slowly rein your emotions under control.

>>You have gained the Special Trait: Lover’s Lamentation [Bitter]
>The death of your most beloved has left a hole in your heart, and you have thus far refused to move on. Sometimes, you are visibly haunted by your regrets, guilt and troubled mind.
>This trait opens unique dialogue options and interactions with other characters, who may approach you on their own volition.

>>“Tell me how many lives I’ve claimed with it.”

“This blade has ended the lives one hundred and nineteen human souls, and has claimed two monstrous foes…a drakling and a homunculus, goodness me,” the druid muses. “You’ve certainly put it to good use over the last four years, Marcus…but I have a feeling that this is but one tool in your little arsenal of death.”

He would not be wrong. Favored as it is, her dagger is but only a single instrument in your recital of death. Not all of the kills you made were violent and necessitating of the blade. There are poisons, bombs, even your own hands and improvised weapons from the most unlikely sources.

The look on your face is all that he needs to see. Exhaling deeply, the druid shakes his head. “What a life you lead, my friend…but I can sense a singular death made with this blade that wasn’t made by your own hands. Unique in how even this one was carried out...there was simply so much anger and hatred...”

“Make her stop, Marcus! Gods, I’ll do anything, please just make her stop-!”

(cont.)
>>
>>3274291

In spite of yourself, a grim smile breaks out across your lips, and you chortle, “Hah…you’re right. There’s only one death on that blade that doesn’t belong to me.” At his pointed look for you to continue, you shake your head. “…but you’d have to get me in a worse mood than this before I share that story, Krabat.”

“A pity, then. I don’t even have a single bottle of Marchland Wine in my cart…” the druid casts an absent look towards the barge. “…but I’d eat my boots if the Alderman’s taps are even fit for consumption, let alone intoxication…”

Snorting derisively, you reply, “No, they bloody aren’t.”

“What a shame. And here I thought I could find one redeeming quality of Giso.”

>>3274291
>“Would it be possible for me to learn primal magic?”

Krabat is perplexed. “You would have me teach you druidism?”

“Just…a passing curiosity, nothing else,” you quietly answer. You would not be trading your blades for a druid’s staff at any time. But if what the tales said are true, then even someone like you might have a talent in the Green Way.

The druid squints, frowns, blinks, then shakes his head. “I’m afraid not. I already have an apprentice of my own. Until such a time comes when the little one is ready, I cannot take on another pupil. In our circles, tradition has always had only one master and one apprentice at a time between mentor and student. No exceptions can be made.”

…rejected by an issue of timing. How so very fitting for you, you think wryly to yourself.

But the druid is not done. “And even if I was free, it would be rude of me to poach from your master. You certainly are an odd one, trying to master two unorthodox arts at the same time.”

You frown. What is he talking about?

“Aye. Don’t give me that look, you rascal!” Krabat laughs. “Just as I cannot take on more than one pupil, you should not have more than one master, my friend. We would love one and hate the other-”

You cut him off. “I don’t know what you are talking about. I have no magic of my own. If you’re talking about the dagger, that was worked into the blade-”

“Marcus, Marcus, I’m quite flattered by your interest, but there is no need to pretend-”

But you reply, “I have no idea what you’re talking about, man.”

“Really, now, you’re taking this act a little too far…” Maybe it is the way you’re looking at him, equal measures confused and exasperated, but the druid sobers almost immediately. “…oh, you mean you really have no idea? How odd. One would think that you would be in the know of your own abilities…”

“But I have. No. Magic." You insist firmly. "Nothing beyond a taste for high sorcery-"

He affixes you with an odd look, not as much looking at you as much as he is looking through you. “Then by all means, please explain to me the very large shadow that I can see lurking over your shoulders-"

(cont.)
>>
>>3274344
>please explain to me the very large shadow that I can see lurking over your shoulders-"

Oh that's just our Stand Krabat.

...would this road trip count as a bizarre adventure?
>>
>>3274344
You wheel around, arms ready to pull at your daggers and strike…only to find nothing. The only shadows that stand behind you are the ones cast by the trees, weak and formless things barely illuminated by the shrouded moonlight. Nothing that would match something as threatening for the druid…

Even as you search, Krabat continues to make blithe remarks, either oblivious or uncaring to your alarm. “Oh, look. I can’t tell if it’s waving at me or making a rude gesture…or perhaps I may have used the wrong word. ‘Lurking’ would imply a predatory nature. ‘Hovering’, there we go. That’s a more harmless and benign term, spooky as the damn thing looks…

“Still, be that as it may, I can at least see one spell that you know. Or perhaps it isn’t a spell, really, but just a very curious method that causes the energy within you to shift and behave strangely-”

It hits you then, like a lightning bolt in a blue and harmless sky. “…you mean the Specter’s Dream?”

“I’m going to assume that’s the name of it. At least, I hope I’m referring to the right thing-”

“But that is not a spell!” you say, exasperated. “It is a meditation technique.”

“Ah, meditation. Very useful tool. In fact-”

This is getting ridiculous. He keeps going off on oddities and inanities whenever you try to press him for an answer.

>>Choose one:
>Bid the druid a curt farewell and return to Westhlolm immediately.
>Enter the Specter’s Dream and show him that it isn’t magic.
>>
>>3274366
>Enter the Specter’s Dream and show him that it isn’t magic.
>>
>>3274366
>Enter the Specter’s Dream and show him that it isn’t magic.
>>
>>3274366
>Enter the Specter’s Dream and show him that it isn’t magic.
>>
>>3274366
>Enter the Specter’s Dream and show him that it isn’t magic
>>
>>3274366
>Bid the druid a curt farewell and return to Westhlolm immediately.
I don't think showing off when we're being watched by our mentor is a good idea.
>>
>>3274366
>Enter the Specter’s Dream and show him that it isn’t magic.
considering that the Specter's Dream was taught while Lucien was alive, I think it's safe to say that dad didn't just creepily give Marcus a sex dream with Serena while watching.
>>
>>3274366
>>Enter the Specter’s Dream and show him that it isn’t magic.
>>
>>3274366
>>Enter the Specter’s Dream and show him that it isn’t magic.
>>
>>3274366
>Enter the Specter’s Dream and show him that it isn’t magic.
>>
>>3274366

>>Enter the Specter’s Dream and show him that it isn’t magic
>>
Theory: The Specter's Dream suffuses the user with Shadow Energy which they learn to channel into various spells. But, because he killed his father, Marcus never learned how to channel the energy. So, he's just been suffusing himself with the energy for years on end.



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