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All stories, good or bad, tell a tale of the human condition. Ever since the first man lifted a charred rock and started scribbling his impressions of the day's hunt in cave walls, we have been an introspective people. Which is a polite way of saying self-obsessed gits.

I wonder what mine would say when it was all told and done. Would it be a sappy little thing narrating the mercenary with a heart of gold who saved a little girl from certain death by stoning, a testament to the underlying common decency beneath all of us? Or would it talk about how the cold-hearted bastard of a soldier (with all the deficiencies of paternal affection that position entails) slew the Militia sentinels, his own supposed allies, all to get his hands on suits of heavy armour for his squad?

Even the sappy story had been ultimately paid in blood. Dumpling lost a sister that day.

A life for a life. The gods are exacting in their demands. Misery is their currency, mortal suffering their delight.

Xavier would tut at me for writing this. He hates irreverence in a man. Not as pantheistic as Theophilos, but he is a zealot, in his own little ways.

We all cling to something to survive our job. Religion was not the weirdest thing out there to use as the centrepiece of the self. Get swords shoved on your face often enough and suddenly such irrationalities are no longer merely peasant suspicions. Threll liked to rub his shield circular-wise before every battle, said it kept arrows from hitting it and ruining the wicker-board. He wasn't wrong. The vicious Waelandish arrows had found his neck instead.

The samurai are pretty damned good archers. You don't need good steel for arrows, unlike swords. If their mounts were halfway decent, we would have had more trouble than we did. As it was, things were tough going. Waelanders were almost as religious as the average Company people, and their religion dictated resistance to the last man against foreigners. The city folk were as usual much more accommodating. Flexible. Moral compass becomes a nuisance in the setting metropolitan. The countryside was where we were having the most trouble. Wae Isles are all mountains. Peasant fighters pounced out of nowhere on every patrol, every baggage trains.

That was behind us now, of course. We were onboard a flatship away from the worst of the fighting in Honshu.
>>
>>3787644

>I would have almost thanked the Captain for picking us for this manhunting mission, if I wasn't the suspicious sort. It is an axiom in the mercenary business that anything that seems too good to be true, is. I spent the day anxiously watching the sealine and the night anxiously staying awake for the smallest sound of Anything Wrong. [Paranoid]

>"Hole in the World," I said idly, leaning over the side of the vessel. The sun was shining, the sea was calm, my merry band of men were heading away from the fighting for once, and Honey had finally stopped getting seasick. All was right with the world. "Why's it called the Hole in the World, Lee?" [Relaxed]

[QM has in his infinite idiocy decided to put this post up right before sleeping. But hey, at least it gives people time to vote. Did you miss me? ]
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>>3787654

>"Hole in the World," I said idly, leaning over the side of the vessel. The sun was shining, the sea was calm, my merry band of men were heading away from the fighting for once, and Honey had finally stopped getting seasick. All was right with the world. "Why's it called the Hole in the World, Lee?" [Relaxed]

Let's order someone to be the paranoid, Chatal or Fox, one of the few good things of being the sarge

I missed you dearly qm
>>
>>3787654
>>"Hole in the World," I said idly, leaning over the side of the vessel. The sun was shining, the sea was calm, my merry band of men were heading away from the fighting for once, and Honey had finally stopped getting seasick. All was right with the world. "Why's it called the Hole in the World, Lee?" [Relaxed]


yaaaay!
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>>3787654
>"Hole in the World," I said idly, leaning over the side of the vessel. The sun was shining, the sea was calm, my merry band of men were heading away from the fighting for once, and Honey had finally stopped getting seasick. All was right with the world. "Why's it called the Hole in the World, Lee?" [Relaxed]

I was worried you had invited the curse with the aborted thread, glad to have you and Aurelius back.
>>
>>3787654
>>"Hole in the World," I said idly, leaning over the side of the vessel. The sun was shining, the sea was calm, my merry band of men were heading away from the fighting for once, and Honey had finally stopped getting seasick. All was right with the world. "Why's it called the Hole in the World, Lee?" [Relaxed]
>>
>>3787654
>>"Hole in the World," I said idly, leaning over the side of the vessel. The sun was shining, the sea was calm, my merry band of men were heading away from the fighting for once, and Honey had finally stopped getting seasick. All was right with the world. "Why's it called the Hole in the World, Lee?" [Relaxed]
>>
>>3787654
>"Hole in the World," I said idly, leaning over the side of the vessel. The sun was shining, the sea was calm, my merry band of men were heading away from the fighting for once, and Honey had finally stopped getting seasick. All was right with the world. "Why's it called the Hole in the World, Lee?" [Relaxed]

I started to worry that you will not come back
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>>3787775
>>3787853
>>3787953
>>3788270
>>3788659
>>3788927

"Hole in the World," I said idly, leaning over the side of the vessel. The sun was shining, the sea was calm, my merry band of men were heading away from the fighting for once, and Honey had finally stopped getting seasick. All was right with the world. "Why's it called the Hole in the World, Lee?"

Lee was our resident Waelands expert. The hermit islands-nation was nothing if not secretive, but through some illegitimately-gotten literature of the erotic sort, she had amassed an impressive store of knowledge. She'd even practiced the verbal component of the language out of the books to speak it herself. I could only speak it stutteringly for now, drawing recollection from various southeastern Sinaean dialects to reconstruct some thin skeletons of the speech.

"Tanegashima is a sacred island, sir." she replied, chin in hand. She'd finally dropped the 'sire'. "It's a massive atoll." That explained the Hole part. "There isn't a lot of information about it. Just that it's supposed to be a paradise island, that the Imperial Household usually goes vacationing there every winter, and that it is ruled by Clan Iyutani."

"Clan Iyutani. That a major clan?"

"Large enough to be independent, small enough not to be a bother to the major houses."

"Why is it so sacred?" I asked.

"Well, the legend goes that the lake in the middle of the atoll was formed by the first Heavenly Sovereign crash-landing to the place as a baby." As far as origin-myths for a founder king went, I'd heard more ridiculous things. "Thus the sacred nature. It's, uh, probably sacrilege to talk about it too much in my sort of books fiction." Even our font of Waelandish knowledge had its limits.

"Sounds like a tourist trap."

She nodded. "Probably is. I can't think of a single thing Clan Iyutani is known for. Even for a Waelander, they seem to keep mostly to themselves, acting as custodians to the island. They don't even appear in political-themed books where the most minor houses are shown." Shown in what manner, I did not ask. Such eldritch knowledge is best left in the minds of their nymphomanic seekers.

Hole in the World. The name had an ominous feel to it, for such an innocent place. Maybe it was just my too-suspicious mind. The way Lee described it, it seemed an innocent place. But it was the source of the 'gonnes' according to Raindrops, that incorrigible smuggler of the Company. What was a resort island doing with such unconventional weapons?
>>
>>3788963

>Everything about this Waelandish island of the Iyutani Clan screamed question marks. I went down into the hold to see if our wizard might have something to help us out with the critical lack of intelligence.

>Sorcery is a dangerous thing, a tool only to be used when its purpose is certain. Sacred, Lee had said. Waelands are said to be gods-blessed, and if this origin story had even a sliver of truth to it, it might be even more dangerous for a lone sorcereress' psyche to wander ahead to scout.
>>
>>3788967
>Everything about this Waelandish island of the Iyutani Clan screamed question marks. I went down into the hold to see if our wizard might have something to help us out with the critical lack of intelligence.

The last time they did it it wasn't so bad
>>
>>3788967

>Everything about this Waelandish island of the Iyutani Clan screamed question marks. I went down into the hold to see if our wizard might have something to help us out with the critical lack of intelligence.
>>
>>3788967

>Everything about this Waelandish island of the Iyutani Clan screamed question marks. I went down into the hold to see if our wizard might have something to help us out with the critical lack of intelligence.
>>
>>3788967
>>Everything about this Waelandish island of the Iyutani Clan screamed question marks. I went down into the hold to see if our wizard might have something to help us out with the critical lack of intelligence.
>>
>>3788980
>>3789040
>>3789043
>>3789062

"A is for?"

"Amy, who fell from the awning."

"B."

"Is for Brandon, who was eaten by a bear."

I didn't remember my abecedarium being so filled with infanticides. Were modern textbooks so much more grimmer in general? I gently knocked against the open door, attracting their attention.

Honey visibly brightened at my entrance. "A is for Aurelius, who frees me from my studies!" she said. She no longer called me A-relly, these days. I guessed that was part of growth. She seemed to be embarassed whenever I poked about the A-relly nickname these days. Childhood is doing embarassing things and not having a whit of regret in doing so.

>But I liked that nickname, damnit. "A is for Aurelius who will be teaching a certain girl her Arithmetics," I said. "A-relly, on the other hand."

>"Am I not a merciful god?" I said magnanimously. Honey cheered. Dumpling sighed. "Very well then," the Parthian sorceress said. "Off you go, my golden foal. And be sure not to fall out of the side of the ship."
>>
>>3789111
>>But I liked that nickname, damnit. "A is for Aurelius who will be teaching a certain girl her Arithmetics," I said. "A-relly, on the other hand."
>>
>>3789111


>But I liked that nickname, damnit. "A is for Aurelius who will be teaching a certain girl her Arithmetics," I said. "A-relly, on the other hand."
>>
>>3789111

>But I liked that nickname, damnit. "A is for Aurelius who will be teaching a certain girl her Arithmetics," I said. "A-relly, on the other hand."
>>
>>3789111

>"Am I not a merciful god?" I said magnanimously. Honey cheered. Dumpling sighed. "Very well then," the Parthian sorceress said. "Off you go, my golden foal. And be sure not to fall out of the side of the ship."
>>
>>3789111
>"Am I not a merciful god?" I said magnanimously. Honey cheered. Dumpling sighed. "Very well then," the Parthian sorceress said. "Off you go, my golden foal. And be sure not to fall out of the side of the ship."
>>
>>3789111
>But I liked that nickname, damnit. "A is for Aurelius who will be teaching a certain girl her Arithmetics," I said. "A-relly, on the other hand."
>>
>>3789117
>>3789120
>>3789129
>>3789214

But I liked that nickname, damnit. "A is for Aurelius who will be teaching a certain girl her Arithmetics," I said. "A-relly, on the other hand."

Honey shook her head obstinately. "I'm not a kid anymore, dad. And you're the one who never corrected me when I've been pronouncing your name all wrong!"

Seemed like just yesterday when she was adorably mispronouncing my name. A thousand curses to puberty, robber of daughters and sons! "You heard other people call me 'Aurelius' all the time."

"I thought they were the ones saying it wrong!"

Ahh, the hubris of youth. Better that the entire world be erroneous than they be proven wrong. I ruffled her head with a smile, earning a disgruntled hmph. And I remembered a little girl who had loved her headpats.

She was such a small thing then. Malnutrition and neglect had made her unhealthily small. A life of poverty in the midst of civil wars. "You can have your break, but don't let Chatal catch you dangling on the rails again."

"Oh. He won't."

"...What I meant was, don't do it."

She grinned mischievously. "What you don't know can't hurt you."

"Well, she certainly takes after her father," Dumpling said with a critical look. "Full of tricks and old sayings that never make any sense."

I put up a wounded face. "We learn from our elders so we do not need to go through their mistakes. What are proverbs if not the condensed wisdom of ages past?" Honey copied my serious expression, nodding sagely.

"Geh," Dumpling blanched. "You sound like my old man." She had come from far-western Parthia, that mythical empire beyond the Sands of the Goebi. At least, her parents had. It was the kind of place where a man couldn't (and I quote) "walk around a site without tripping on some waterpipe-smoking geezer ready to spout off advices and axioms."

My kind of town.

"Don't turn her into a wily creature like you," Dumpling said with a smirk. "I have my hands full with my rogue sergeant as is. I don't need a mini-Aurelius."

That wasn't fair. I was merely reactive to the circumstances thrown at my life. A little creativity here and there were necessities that got me through the day. Like those amnesic pellets. Unconsciously, I patted the little pocket that contained those relief-giving pills. They weren't just for me now.

"Can I go play with Mulberry?" Honey asked.
>>
>>3789251

>"Of course." It was nice to see her make friends with someone her age. They were both abandoned children, sharing that street-scrounging heritage. Mulberry could take her mind-relieving medicine tonight. As long as she was fed it before tomorrow came, she would not remember that traumatic incident for another week.

>"Mulberry needs to rest today," I told her. Taking the amnesiacs required rest for those not cursed by the long-living blood of my ancestor, and last week's dose was nearly worn-off, based on the troubled look she occasionally showed today. She didn't remember it, of course. But the sensation was impossible to fully wipe. "Why don't you go see if..."
a) Lee is free to play with your hair?" Women stuff. It is to my eternal surprise that womenfolk brush their hair for hours on end just to end up hiding it most of the time. Head coverings that obscured such beautiful things were stupid. I am personally in Team Ponytails. All other forms are simply inferior.
b) Fox is available to continue your sword lessons?" Fox is a former legionary, though not from one of the True Legions. Those are long gone. But even without the mystical branding that the superhuman soldiers of old had, the modern legions retained much of the training.
c) Hood is awake for some archery practice?" The flatship was intended to carry a small detachment of an army, not a single platoon. There had been more than enough space in the hold to set up an archery range. Hood practically lived down there. She hated seeing the sea.
>>
>>3789252
>>"Mulberry needs to rest today," I told her. Taking the amnesiacs required rest for those not cursed by the long-living blood of my ancestor, and last week's dose was nearly worn-off, based on the troubled look she occasionally showed today. She didn't remember it, of course. But the sensation was impossible to fully wipe. "Why don't you go see if..."
c) Hood is awake for some archery practice?" The flatship was intended to carry a small detachment of an army, not a single platoon. There had been more than enough space in the hold to set up an archery range. Hood practically lived down there. She hated seeing the sea.
>>
>>3789252

>"Of course." It was nice to see her make friends with someone her age. They were both abandoned children, sharing that street-scrounging heritage. Mulberry could take her mind-relieving medicine tonight. As long as she was fed it before tomorrow came, she would not remember that traumatic incident for another week.
>>
>>3789252
>>"Of course." It was nice to see her make friends with someone her age. They were both abandoned children, sharing that street-scrounging heritage. Mulberry could take her mind-relieving medicine tonight. As long as she was fed it before tomorrow came, she would not remember that traumatic incident for another week.
>>
>>3789252

>>"Of course." It was nice to see her make friends with someone her age. They were both abandoned children, sharing that street-scrounging heritage. Mulberry could take her mind-relieving medicine tonight. As long as she was fed it before tomorrow came, she would not remember that traumatic incident for another week.
>>
>>3789252
>>"Mulberry needs to rest today," I told her. Taking the amnesiacs required rest for those not cursed by the long-living blood of my ancestor, and last week's dose was nearly worn-off, based on the troubled look she occasionally showed today. She didn't remember it, of course. But the sensation was impossible to fully wipe. "Why don't you go see if..."
c) Hood is awake for some archery practice?" The flatship was intended to carry a small detachment of an army, not a single platoon. There had been more than enough space in the hold to set up an archery range. Hood practically lived down there. She hated seeing the sea.
>>
>>3789269
>>3789271
>>3789312
"Of course." It was nice to see her make friends with someone her age. They were both abandoned children, sharing that street-scrounging heritage. Mulberry could take her mind-relieving medicine tonight. As long as she was fed it before tomorrow came, she would not remember that traumatic incident for another week.

"So much for Arithmetic Aurelius," Dumpling commented as she cleaned up the learning implements. "You're too soft on her, you know."

"I don't want her to hate me." Not this time. "She's had enough bad times in her life, she could do with a little spoiling."

"If you can call having her join the Black Company that." She smiled wryly. "Truth be told, I never expected to become a mother. Not here."

I nodded, understanding. "I haven't exactly planned being a father." Again.

The Parthian girl-sorceress grabbed my hand, sensing my unease. The wondrous Ensorcelled. Their bright souls, attuned to the oceanic currents of the Sea of Souls, are more perceptive than most. Not to the point of reading minds, just faint tugs and hints of primary emotions if they focus. She said, "As long as you don't force Honey to get married to some old moneyman, you will make a great father."

"Not exactly a high bar." Honey, getting married? Never. What mortal man might deserve the little goldenrod in my life?

"Yes, well, great fathers are few and far in between," she said sardonically.

Not even marriage opened up the three women in my life to their pasts, secrets. But you picked up some information here and there. I wonder what circumstances drove three sisters away from home, all together. Family trouble, like as not. And something to do with an unappealing father.

"I won't force Honey to marry anyone," I promised. Left unsaid was the fact that I would do my utmost in dissuading her from marrying anyone.

She squeezed my hand appreciatively. Clearly an important topic for her. "What did you need me for? You didn't come here just to check on Honey's education."

Ouch. It was said playfully, but it still hurt. "I haven't been that absent from her life, have I?"

"In between your memory freakouts and super-important forest trips, I'd say... yes."

"I'll have to fix that."
>>
>>3789823

I then told her about the task I wanted her to perform. "I'd like you to look into the island we're heading into. We know so little about these places." In truth, I was regretting having voted for Waelands. Imperial cartography was nonexistent on this side of the world. Even Nanman had maps, painted in broad strokes in terms of mountain ranges and deep groundholes, two geographic features that did not morph and mutate and evolve every few months in that plentifully lived place.

She nodded. Her hand, still holding on to mine, were sweating. I gather this is not a pleasant experience for the wizard in question. Do you hurt, Dumpling, when you severe the connection between the body and soul?

No need to overthink this. It's a process Company wizards have done for as long as the Black Company has existed. I'd read enough of the Annals to know that they needed to be kept short and any and all information gleaned therefrom were only generally reliable. Limited in scope and specificity. But it was better than nothing.

She hesitated. I thought she would refuse.Instead, she said: "How far?"

>"Just the shoreline. I want there to be safe harbour for the ship. Somewhere with gentle seas, windbreakers. Just so we don't end up without our only means of egress." This was the absolute minimal exposure to that island I could grant her. Baring one's soul to traverse the Sea was not something you wanted to do overlong. Censores-sponsored experiments done in the deepest bowels of the Capital had shown me that much.

>"The immediate area of operation, maybe a kilometer inland." Many a naval landing have suffered immensely in the very beginning: the landing stage. That is the vulnerable belly of an invading army crossing the seas. Not that we had an army. It was just a single platoon - three line infantry squads and our rangers.

>"A general feel of the island. Rough guesstimate of the size of settlements." I spoke as her commanding officer, not her husband. We needed every edge we could get before landing into the great unknown. To add a pithy quotation as is my habit: "Forewarned is forearmed."
>>
>>3789825

>"The immediate area of operation, maybe a kilometer inland." Many a naval landing have suffered immensely in the very beginning: the landing stage. That is the vulnerable belly of an invading army crossing the seas. Not that we had an army. It was just a single platoon - three line infantry squads and our rangers.
>>
>>3789825

>"The immediate area of operation, maybe a kilometer inland." Many a naval landing have suffered immensely in the very beginning: the landing stage. That is the vulnerable belly of an invading army crossing the seas. Not that we had an army. It was just a single platoon - three line infantry squads and our rangers.
>>
>>3789825

>"Just the shoreline. I want there to be safe harbour for the ship. Somewhere with gentle seas, windbreakers. Just so we don't end up without our only means of egress." This was the absolute minimal exposure to that island I could grant her. Baring one's soul to traverse the Sea was not something you wanted to do overlong. Censores-sponsored experiments done in the deepest bowels of the Capital had shown me that much.


Very happy to see this back
>>
>>3789825
>>"Just the shoreline. I want there to be safe harbour for the ship. Somewhere with gentle seas, windbreakers. Just so we don't end up without our only means of egress." This was the absolute minimal exposure to that island I could grant her. Baring one's soul to traverse the Sea was not something you wanted to do overlong. Censores-sponsored experiments done in the deepest bowels of the Capital had shown me that much.
>>
>>3789825

>"The immediate area of operation, maybe a kilometer inland." Many a naval landing have suffered immensely in the very beginning: the landing stage. That is the vulnerable belly of an invading army crossing the seas. Not that we had an army. It was just a single platoon - three line infantry squads and our rangers.

She should be able to manage this and we cant be too soft on her with the operation at stake.
>>
>>3789825
>"Just the shoreline. I want there to be safe harbour for the ship. Somewhere with gentle seas, windbreakers. Just so we don't end up without our only means of egress." This was the absolute minimal exposure to that island I could grant her. Baring one's soul to traverse the Sea was not something you wanted to do overlong. Censores-sponsored experiments done in the deepest bowels of the Capital had shown me that much.

Let's not risk it. She can scout inland when we find safe place to dock
>>
>>3789825
Trust Dumpling to do her thing like we trusted Hood before, she might resent that if we don't have faith in her skills

And the last thing we need is a Not!Normandy beach landing.


>"The immediate area of operation, maybe a kilometer inland." Many a naval landing have suffered immensely in the very beginning: the landing stage. That is the vulnerable belly of an invading army crossing the seas. Not that we had an army. It was just a single platoon - three line infantry squads and our rangers.

"If you run into any of their strange magic come back to me, ok?
>>
>>3789825
Ah shit here we go again

"The immediate area of operation, maybe a kilometer inland." Many a naval landing have suffered immensely in the very beginning: the landing stage. That is the vulnerable belly of an invading army crossing the seas. Not that we had an army. It was just a single platoon - three line infantry squads and our rangers
>>
Tyche: Guess I'll start QMing again
Internet: Hahahaha good joke

Had no net since last evening. I can't catch a break. Will write after I finish up with internet-necessary work if I have the strength afterwards, I do apologise for the massive delay.
>>
>>3791876
No worries QM, I'm just happy you came back kek
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>>3789844
>>3789858
>>3791117
>>3791371
>>3791527

"The immediate area of operation, maybe a kilometer inland." Many a naval landing have suffered immensely in the very beginning: the landing stage. That is the vulnerable belly of an invading army crossing the seas. Not that we had an army. It was just a single platoon - three line infantry squads and our rangers.

I was asking a lot of her. The Black Company has historically had a multitude of wizards, never dipping below five. We had three now, if you could call Truncheon a sorcerer of any note. He was the miserable geezer who'd joined up in Reed. He hadn't shown much of his prowess. Enough to get him enlisted under the Specialist rank like any other wizard, but so far, the investment hadn't paid off.

Scrying safely takes three. Two, if you are pushing it. To use the maritime analogy even further, it is a little bit like going in for a dive in the middle of a storm. You want someone to be holding on to the rope tied around your waist. Except the only kind of people who could even see the rope, never mind touch them, were the type who had access to the metaphorical ocean. We didn't have two, here. Just Dumpling.

"I'll need the archery range," she said. "And blood. Lots of it."
>>
>>3791964

An army runs on its stomach. The Black Company ran on salted pork and dry biscuits.

The Enlightened Mouse had been designed as a transport, but not the human kind. It had been made for livestock. To be more precise, it was a kind of mobile slaughterhouse on the sea. We were heading to an unknown island on a slaughter-ship. Dire portent, if you believed in such things.

You wouldn't be able to imagine the stench. It was a special kind of hell for one's nose. And we were roomed in the nicer parts of the ship. The crew were happy to have us, feeling safer from the depredation of petty pirates with our presence. They were those type of unenviable men married to their jobs, long specialised to their task having adapted mentally and physically by virtue of long hours spent familiarising themselves in their workplace. The smell didn't bother them, and neither did the heat. Animals let out an incredible amount of body warmth.

They liked the unusual change in assignment. It meant they got to eat those cows for once, fresh from the killing floor, instead of merely cutting them up and sending them off to the shore.

Lieutenant Obol, the commanding officer for our platoon, authorised the borrowing of twenty line infantrymen from Tek and Ironblood's grunt squads with a shrug and a wave. I was disappointed. I'd prepared a speech and everything. "It's magic, isn't it?" he said. "Do the thing. Just don't sacrifice one of the brothers."

"Wouldn't dream of it."

Grunt, snort, and a goodbye wave. Just like that, I'd gotten temporary command over two more squads.

"Careful now," Tek said to no one in particular as the line of troopers hurried back and forth, carrying pails of pig blood. He chewed something nasty in his mouth. "That there is fresh pig blood. You spill that thing, you'll end up smelling like a squealer for the rest of the trip."

"Shouldn't be much of a change for you," a trooper I recognised to be Spade joked. "That woman of yours back in Reed was related to one of the pigs onboard." One of Tek's. His was a more relaxed, informal outfit. I envied them.
>>
>>3791981

Unimaginative Sinaean peasants that their parents were, most of the Company had names that were either farming implements or heaven forbid, vegetables. Sugarbeet was not exactly the kind of name that struck fear into your heart.

"You'd know a thing or two about pig-fucking, wouldn't you, Spade?" the sergeant retorted. "Farmers like you are supposed to be half-cow or pig, anyhow. Maybe I did fuck a pig once, and that pig was your mother." The infantry squad sergeant liked to brag he had a woman in every port. Quantity over quality, that was Tek. If she had a hole and walked on two legs...

It's a tense job, being a mercenary, We all have our vices. Writing these forgettable stories is mine, scribbling them on leftover vellum, knowing it does not deserve a place among the true books of the Annals.

"What in the Dark do you need all this blood for, Aurie?" he asked, switching his attention to me. All bushy eyebrows and inquisitive blue eyes. "Is this to spice up the bed life with the missus? I gotta say, you've got the men all curioused up."

>I shrugged. "Magic." A wizard needed it. Who was I, a humble servant of the Dark Arts, to question the need of the Practitioner?

>"I'm not even going to ask what you meant by that." Tek was one of those old men who never seemed to die or shrivel up in their own selves. How old was he by now? Sixy? Seventy?

>"...go on. How exactly do you think pigs' blood would "spice up" the sex life?"
Regrets, I've had a few... oh by the gods, too many to mention. This was one of them.
>>
>>3791983
>>"...go on. How exactly do you think pigs' blood would "spice up" the sex life?"
>Regrets, I've had a few... oh by the gods, too many to mention. This was one of them.

I dare him to make it even remotely sexy
>>
>>3791983

>I shrugged. "Magic." A wizard needed it. Who was I, a humble servant of the Dark Arts, to question the need of the Practitioner?
>>
>>3791983

>"...go on. How exactly do you think pigs' blood would "spice up" the sex life?"
>>
>>3791983
>>"...go on. How exactly do you think pigs' blood would "spice up" the sex life?"
>>
>>3791993
>>3792037
>>3792057

"...go on. How exactly do you think pigs' blood would "spice up" the sex life?" Regrets, I've had a few... oh by the gods, too many to mention. This was one of them.

[REDACTED]

"That's unhygienic," I said weakly.

"Nothing in sex is," he cheerfully replied. "But I haven't even gotten to the good part." No. "So, you know blood dries and forms scabs, right? If you pre-mixed it to just the right consistency-"

-=-

>A swimmer in the Sea
>3 1d100
>>
Rolled 52 (1d100)

>>3792107
Look at the 100s
>>
Rolled 76 (1d100)

>>3792107

That woyld be a very interesting, if unpleasant father figure, of course we can't have one since we are not a soldier and have no father issues
>>
Rolled 66 (1d100)

>>3792107
>>
Rolled 29 (1d100)

>>3792107
>>
>>3792139
>66
I see.
>>
Dumpling shooed everyone away from the appropriated archery range-turned ritual sanctum. "I must not have any distractions," she said. "Don't open the door until I say so. And even then, ask me a question only I would know first. No, don't ask me now. It needs to be spontaneous."

I glanced at the door. Under Dumpling's directions, it had been reinforced with extra planks. It was as half as thick as it was wide, now, which made for a funny door. There was nothing funny in her demeanour, however. "If it's dangerous..."

"No distractions," she firmly repeated herself. "And do not open the door."

-=-

"Don't know how you did it," Tek said. "Having an Ensorcelled wife is nuts, but two? Aurie-boy, you are a god among men. A mad god, but a god nonetheless."

The two of us were shooting the shit, watching the rest of the guys wash themselves on the open deck with freshly-scooped saltwater. Despite the grizzled sergeant's admonitions, some of them had spilled a fair amount of blood. Sea legs can take years to acquire. Even becalmed, the ocean is always rolling.

"It was a mistake. A drunken night of folly. I wasn't going to just pretend nothing happened afterward."

"Ahah," he chuckled. "Iacob did say you were straight-laced. The sentimental type. Marrying the women you bed." He spat. The yellow-green wad of plant matter that he had been chewing broke the surface of the water below with a tiny ploink. "And taking care of an orphan, too. A real family man, aintcha?"

>"Sarge... I mean, Iacob, did he really talk a lot about me?" I'd had the impression that he disliked me. Or at least, suffered my presence with the gruff frowniness that was characteristic of him.

>"Life is a drunkard on a busy road." Tell me back in that sunny spring day on the road to Whisper that I would be married to three women with five children to care for, and I would have laughed you off.

>"Not all of us can leave women behind every port of call," I replied testily. "And Dumpling isn't crazy. At least, not as crazy as some of the sorcerers I've met." She was maybe a little crazy. You would have to be, to fall in love with a partially-amnesic mess like me.
>>
>>3792182

>"Not all of us can leave women behind every port of call," I replied testily. "And Dumpling isn't crazy. At least, not as crazy as some of the sorcerers I've met." She was maybe a little crazy. You would have to be, to fall in love with a partially-amnesic mess like me.

We do like the girl you old fool
>>
>>3792182

>"Not all of us can leave women behind every port of call," I replied testily. "And Dumpling isn't crazy. At least, not as crazy as some of the sorcerers I've met." She was maybe a little crazy. You would have to be, to fall in love with a partially-amnesic mess like me.
>>
>>3792182
>>"Sarge... I mean, Iacob, did he really talk a lot about me?" I'd had the impression that he disliked me. Or at least, suffered my presence with the gruff frowniness that was characteristic of him.
>>
>>3792158
Yeah on blood ritual huh. Ain't that a kick in the head
>>
>>3792182
>"Sarge... I mean, Iacob, did he really talk a lot about me?" I'd had the impression that he disliked me. Or at least, suffered my presence with the gruff frowniness that was characteristic of him.

I want sarge lore. Still pissed anons got him killed in that damn forest.
>>
>>3792182
>"Not all of us can leave women behind every port of call," I replied testily. "And Dumpling isn't crazy. At least, not as crazy as some of the sorcerers I've met." She was maybe a little crazy. You would have to be, to fall in love with a partially-amnesic mess like me.
>>
>>3792205
I want to know more about him too but I fear Dumps will not come out ok of that roll, maybe we'll get some hints about her
>>
>>3792182
>"Not all of us can leave women behind every port of call," I replied testily. "And Dumpling isn't crazy. At least, not as crazy as some of the sorcerers I've met." She was maybe a little crazy. You would have to be, to fall in love with a partially-amnesic mess like me.

Sarge would want us to prioritize the living...right?
>>
>>3792188
>>3792195
>>3792235
>>3792454
"Not all of us can leave women behind every port of call," I replied testily. "And Dumpling isn't crazy. At least, not as crazy as some of the sorcerers I've met." She was maybe a little crazy. You would have to be, to fall in love with a partially-amnesic mess like me.

"Bad idea," he said simply, impervious to my sour mood. He is a thick-skinned man. The product of a long and enduring friendship with the old Sergeant? Perhaps. My old commanding officer had not been the most friendly of people, rarely took to forming relationships. I had a clue as to why.

"I've seen plenty of couples form in the Company," he continued. "Children, too. Makes for uglier partings, when the lovers are inevitably separated. No, don't argue," he raised his hand, stopping my retort before it even began. "People die, but soldiers get killed. There's a crucial difference between the passive and active. For all their miserable soil-grubbing lives, peasants usually don't end up charging toward a hail of arrows, do they? For whatever reason, we've signed our own death warrants here. Long-term prospects like yours..." he sighed, sympathetic. "They aren't gonna last. This is going to hurt you, kid."

I knew that already. "Teach a grandmother to suck eggs."

He shrugged. "So long as you're prepared. Mind's a fragile thing."

We watched the brothers, their showers devolving to a wet towel slapping contest. Seasoned campaigners all, they were making the most out of not having to march anywhere and everywhere. Spade struggled to overthrow a strapping woman, a Dai Viet from the look of her face, one of the people of the swamps that surround the jungles of Nanman proper. They lived in the periphery of that deadly wildland in the more human-habitable zones.

Xians aren't the only ethnic group in Sinae, though they are the vast majority. There are a thousand different tribes of men in Sinae. Blue-eyed and brown-haired descendants of the First Ship that came with the Emperor have made homes all around the plains-filled Empire, adding to the mix. It made for a very odd combination of ethnic groups, especially in a mobile organisation like the Company that recruited when and where it could.

The southern woman was winning. She was smaller than Spade, but had agility to match his strength, and was making the most use of it, countering his forceful swings by letting his momentum carry him too far over. The hapless farmer-born slid on the water-slicked deck, the southerner's arms around his neck.
>>
>>3793514

"Proper monkeys, those southerners," Tek said, looking approvingly. "She's one of the new ones. Recruited a tribe of them wholesale while we were back in Reed. Apparently they were on a pilgrimage to Alexandria Eskhata. Can you believe it? That far south, they hadn't heard of the island sinking down. Guess they were at a loss on what to do afterwards."

"No shit?" Alexandria Eskhata was once the favoured daughter of the Empire. The Emperor had landed there when he first came to this part of the world, and the island later flourished as the centre of the Imperial Cult. All gone now, of course. The island still burned. When the sky was clear, you could see the smoke from the coastlands.

Hood hated seeing the sea.

"No shit," he confirmed. "God-botherers, the lot of them, but can they fight! That many people moving around, bound to cause trouble. I guess they learned how to fight out of self-defence."

I was troubled. Something about Alexandria Eskhata was bothering me. Its relation to Hood, maybe. He glanced at me, misinterpreted the frown on my face. He said reassuringly, "You and the Captain made the right choice in bringing us east."

"Did we." I wasn't so sure. The lack of foreknowledge on our enemies galled me. We were playing by their rules here, remaining ahead by the skin of our teeth. If that ritual hadn't been disrupted - purely by accident - there would not have been an Eastern Campaign to speak of, the islands shrouded in their years-long storms.

"Reed was a well-needed break. Cities like that have many wanderers. Survivors. Proven fighters who survived their journey from whatever shithole they crawled out of. After the Ambush..." The Ambush in the depth of the Old Forest was still a taboo among the survivors. I hadn't been there when it happened.

"I suppose. Wish we had more maps, though."

"That's what you are for, mister ranger. You even have a wizard in your ranks."

"Tip of the spear, that's us," I said unenthusiastically. Tek thumped my back, almost bawling me over. "Come on," he said cheerfully. "Let's get back downstairs. Food should be preparing right about now." One of the benefits of a butcher-ship is the freshly cut meat appearing on the menu every day.

>"Food does sound good. I'll see you after I find Honey and Hood. They ought to be nearby still."

>"I need to have a chat with one of my guys," I said regretfully. "Maybe dinner?" [socialise with one of the squad]

>"I don't feel like eating yet," I lied. "You go on ahead." It was that time of the week again. I needed privacy when I took the amnesiacs. It wasn't pretty, the digestion of the medicine, anomalous as many of the ingredients were.

>Suggestion
>>
>>3793521
>>"Food does sound good. I'll see you after I find Honey and Hood. They ought to be nearby still."

damn those island flashbacks
>>
>>3793521

>"Food does sound good. I'll see you after I find Honey and Hood. They ought to be nearby still."
>>
>>3793521
>>"Food does sound good. I'll see you after I find Honey and Hood. They ought to be nearby still."
>>
>>3793521


>"Food does sound good. I'll see you after I find Honey and Hood. They ought to be nearby still."
>>
>>3793521
>>"I don't feel like eating yet," I lied. "You go on ahead." It was that time of the week again. I needed privacy when I took the amnesiacs. It wasn't pretty, the digestion of the medicine, anomalous as many of the ingredients were.
>>
>>3793521
>"Food does sound good. I'll see you after I find Honey and Hood. They ought to be nearby still.
>>
>>3793536
>>3793545
>>3793558
>>3793599
>>3793944

The mess deck bustled. Food was one of the ways soldiers comforted themselves in between the action. Everyone knew that we were to make landfall tomorrow before the dawn. I contemplated the look the ungainly transport ship must cast with the rising sun behind her potbellied back. A dramatic entrance to a new territory.

There was a restless atmosphere in the air. Wartime drama requires sacrifices. Which one of us would be dead before tomorrow came to an end? What familiar face would we come to see bandaged and ruined?

Anticipation. "Have we got our orders yet?" Lee asked. Fox scowled at the breach in inter-rank communication procedure.

I shook my head. "Not yet." The commanding officer of the platoon, Lieutenant Obol was a man of few words in the sense that he didn't like being bothered enough for him to have to utter them. He had been in the quartermastery before receiving the promotion. A severely dressed man with a stern, chiselled face, drooping mustache as sharp and long as befitted his angular visage. The first time I saw him, I thought he was going to be a regular old hardass with a desire for discipline and determination in his troops. A proper military man, I had thought with trepidation. That reduced our chances of survival considerably. He looked the kind to shout, "Come on, men! Who wants to live forever?" Me. I want to live forever. Wretched world as this is, it's the only one you and I've got. I wasn't quite ready to throw my lot with whatever eldritch afterlives the gods might have thought up in their demented minds.

I was soon disabused of that notion. Raindrops described to me on the lieutenant's exploits with starstruck eyes. He was a proper conman like the rest of the lads back in the quartermastery, it turned out. All paperworks and loopholes and ghost-regiments sapping up resources. A regular Zhuge Liang of scamsmanship, he had only accepted Lieutenancy because (according to Raindrops, himself not the most reliable of gossipmongers), "he wanted to have a platoon all to himself so he could have more goons doing his bidding".
>>
>>3795747


This isn't as bad a thing as you might suspect. People like him loved pluses, hated minuses. Expenditures are their anathema, losses and costs their sworn enemies. Our lives were to him numeric values on his platoon-ledgers. He was going to do his reasonable due in keeping us alive. Besides, people like him were necessary. The Black Company fights on two fronts eternally. One is on the more conventional side. The people we are hired to fight against. The second front is against our employers themselves, who like to whine and groan on every bit of expenditure made after the initial contractual payment. I've seen more than once Captain having to patiently explain to a soft-faced magistrate that no, soldiers do need regular cartments of foodstuffs and arrows to continue to fight effectively, and yes, this was outlined in the contract.

The Company is one of the most effective fighting groups in the Empire. It was also not made of magicked up golems who didn't need to eat or rest.

"Old Paperwork isn't one to divulge his secrets," Tek complained. "Probably won't tell us what we're supposed to be doing until the very moment."

I let out a snort. "Not so different from the Captain, then. You won't believe the sort of last-minute decisions she thrust on me on a habitual basis when I was emergency First Lieutenant."

"Rumours were that decisions weren't the only things being thrust on you," Tek winked.

"Certainly not," I said. "I am a happily married man." Just to be sure I wasn't going to be shanked in the side, I sneaked a glance at Hood. She was continuing her meal quietly, lost in her own thoughts.
>>
>>3795754

That rather put a dampener in my mood, as well. It was why I didn't react much when Tek upped his teasing.

"Aurie, Aurie, quite contrary," he half-sang mischievously. "Three queens has ol' Honeypot Aurie. Golden eyes and golden stream, feeds his garden with a pearly gleam!"

"That doesn't even make sense. And it rhymes terribly. You used 'Aurie' twice, both times pairing it with 'contrary'."

Tek turned faux-serious. "It's not about sense. It's about the insinuation."

Pearly gleam. It is true what they say of old men and dirty minds. "You really need to get a codependent," I told him.

"Never! No lass or laddie will chain free Tek to the land of the sane and boring."

Honey tugged at Tek's elbow, looking earnest as though trying to solve an important puzzle. "What honeypot, Uncle Tek?"

That flat-footed him. Old as he was, I don't think he'd ever had to deal with children.

"Er," he said, and lost his tongue, putting a stopper to his bawdy jokes. I knew I kept that girl around for a reason. How old Sergeant had suffered him, I do not know.

I was being too harsh. He has his good sides, and is dependable in a fight. And his mouth wasn't as filthy as many of the Company people. At least he had the sense not to explain his dirty euphemisms to Honey.

>After the midday meal, I had the squad form up. It was time to do some good old fashioned drilling. Rangers though we were, with all the individualistic fighting styles that came with the job, we were still expected to be able to hold the line when the need came for stodgy infantry work. [Sergeant]

>I spent the rest of the day in the sick bay with the rest of the platoon scriveners, making sure our stock of medicines were dry and brine-free, dealing with the still seasick men, and giving once-overs on infections. Butcher-ship as the Enlightened Mouse was, it was bound to have a lot of biohazardous materials. [Scrivener]
>>
>>3795773

>After the midday meal, I had the squad form up. It was time to do some good old fashioned drilling. Rangers though we were, with all the individualistic fighting styles that came with the job, we were still expected to be able to hold the line when the need came for stodgy infantry work. [Sergeant]
>>
>>3795773
>After the midday meal, I had the squad form up. It was time to do some good old fashioned drilling. Rangers though we were, with all the individualistic fighting styles that came with the job, we were still expected to be able to hold the line when the need came for stodgy infantry work. [Sergeant]
>>
>>3795773
>>After the midday meal, I had the squad form up. It was time to do some good old fashioned drilling. Rangers though we were, with all the individualistic fighting styles that came with the job, we were still expected to be able to hold the line when the need came for stodgy infantry work. [Sergeant]
>>
>>3795773

>After the midday meal, I had the squad form up. It was time to do some good old fashioned drilling. Rangers though we were, with all the individualistic fighting styles that came with the job, we were still expected to be able to hold the line when the need came for stodgy infantry work. [Sergeant]

Hood might be like that because of the sea, or because we were acting weird and suddenly stoped just recently
>>
>>3795773

>After the midday meal, I had the squad form up. It was time to do some good old fashioned drilling. Rangers though we were, with all the individualistic fighting styles that came with the job, we were still expected to be able to hold the line when the need came for stodgy infantry work. [Sergeant]
>>
>>3795773


>After the midday meal, I had the squad form up. It was time to do some good old fashioned drilling. Rangers though we were, with all the individualistic fighting styles that came with the job, we were still expected to be able to hold the line when the need came for stodgy infantry work. [Sergeant]
>>
>>3795773

>After the midday meal, I had the squad form up. It was time to do some good old fashioned drilling. Rangers though we were, with all the individualistic fighting styles that came with the job, we were still expected to be able to hold the line when the need came for stodgy infantry work. [Sergeant]
>>
>>3795795
>>3795798
>>3795861
>>3795976
>>3796054
>>3796097
>>3797013

[Sorry about the super slow updates, internet getting fucked meant extra workload I had (and have) to resolve]

After the midday meal, I had the squad form up. It was time to do some good old fashioned drilling. Rangers though we were, with all the individualistic fighting styles that came with the job, we were still expected to be able to hold the line when the need came for stodgy infantry work.

Oh, they grumbled. They pined for the days of the old Sergeant, falsely repainting their memories of him as a kind and gentle man, nothing like the slavedriver that he truly was.

"Tyrant," Mulberry muttered rebelliously. She hadn't seen Sergeant, but that didn't lessen her complaints. She was a pit fighter. They didn't really go for drills down there.

I thoroughly (ab)used my position to tire them out completely. Landings tatters the nerves. The thought that you might receive a hail of arrows while clinging on to the side of the landers hits a sore note on any soldier who has had to such things.

Water is the soldier's enemy. Localised eddies and pools and whirling currents make light work of the encumbered trooper that for whatever reason falls off his lander. They impede your legs and turn your armour to dead weight that threatens to drown you with the first misstep.

So I applied Sergeant's tricks. Occupy their minds with the soreness of the body. Their brains will have no thoughtspace to indulge their rattled nerves.

I stood watch that night. Sergeancy is not high enough a rank that warrants freedom from the daily duties of the running of the Company. Unlike the Bluebloods, we don't go for menial servants and the like. We cooked our own food, set up our own tents. Extra hands are extra mouths. And that can be the death or life in an extended campaign.

Dumpling was taking her time. I thought her scrying spell would have ended by now. But that's the thing with magic. You never know what you're going to pull next from the secretive hat of tricks.

>I stood my guard, peering foggily at the almost-invisible embankments.

>I abandoned my post. Worry gnawed me.
>>
>>3797070
>>I stood my guard, peering foggily at the almost-invisible embankments.
>>
>>3797070

>I abandoned my post. Worry gnawed me.

Let's check on the mage
>>
>>3797070
>I stood my guard, peering foggily at the almost-invisible embankments.

We asked her too much
>>
>>3797080
Make sure to put Fox or Chatal in our place while we check on her too
>>
Just so we are clear qm

Stand your ground means to stay on top of the ship
While

Abandon post means going to see how Dumpling is doing

Rigjt?
>>
>>3797087
YES! YOU ARE CORRECT!
>>
>>3797070
>I stood my guard, peering foggily at the almost-invisible embankments
Can we have someone go cheack on jer?
>>
>>3797085
You're going to have to spend some Time trying to wake them up

>>3797087
Yes

>>3797106
Yes, see >>3797085 for resource cost (Time)

Do keep in mind that going below deck to find someone to do things for you counts as leaving your post.
>>
>>3797122
Oh i just thought that theres other people just walking around that we can send if not, stay on gurd
>>
>>3797080
>>3797085
Suporting

Even if we don't go now and the vote to stay wins out we should head there after our shift is over
>>
>>3797075
>>3797082
>>3797106

>I stood my guard, peering foggily at the almost-invisible embankments.

Night watch is one of the easier jobs a brother can pull from the weekly lottery. It beat washing dishes or latrine duty, both of which I was thankfully exempt. Ranks have its privileges.

It did not feel a privilege tonight. The squad was snugly sleeping below-decks in the warmth of the dimly lit quarters. Here I stood alone, watching and waiting for nothing. We weren't due to arrive yet. Not until the dawn.

How long has it been? Time passed too slow in this sensory-deprived state. I grumbled quietly to myself just to hear a sound, any sound, throwing mild curses to the next-in-watch for his supposed tardiness.

The skyline remained quiet. It was pitch dark. Torches and lights above decks had been doused to prevent lights tipping off any shorewatchers. I couldn't even see my own fingers when I waved them right in front of my nose. Then my eyes adjusted to the dark.

That is the closest thing to hallucinations a sane man can have. Your eyes begin to interpret patches of slightly-less-dark as tangible things, give them intelligible forms. What miserable corpses troubled my sight? Dead faces. Familiar faces. Their mouths, silent, gaping, accusatory.

Old Sergeant was there. He had a face of stone. Grey and pallid, just how I imagined him dead. We had never recovered the bodies. Not after he had been transformed into that shadow-beast. "I'm sorry," I said into the quiet night. I said sorry a lot. It was almost second nature to me by now.

Here floated Jokk. A brother of the black, though I knew him but little. One of the almost-survivors in the nightmare that was the Old Forest. I tried to take solace in the knowledge that his soul had been freed. Or had it? The artefact implanted deep within the Forest had been that of the Emperor's. Now there was a man - if man, he was - who would not have squandered such numerous soul-resources nearby. For what purpose had the tombstone stood?

A disembodied head, familiar in her aching foreignness. Her visage floated by, ignoring me. "Mother." She remained deaf to my words, despite the all-encompassing silence of the night. And yet, even as a trick of the treacherous mind-and-eyes, she looked warm. Hers had been the first corpse that I ever saw. My father has - had - an unorthodox philosophy on child-rearing.

...Father?

Speak of the devil, and he shall appear.

>I reached for my medicine-pouch. Too much memories. Too many people. The human mind is not made to withstand such long lifespans. [Incoming Dice]

>"You're not real," I said, defiant. And by speaking, I legitimised his presence.
>>
>>3797742
>>"You're not real," I said, defiant. And by speaking, I legitimised his presence.

as much as I hate picking this, if we take the medicine now the side effects will put us down and we won't be able to keep the watch and check on Dumpling later
>>
>>3797769

Tags: Fatherhood, Daughter, Family, Raising Children Together, Death, Polygamy, Father Issues, Orphans, Estranged Family Members, Substance Abuse, Amnesia...
>>
>>3797742

>"You're not real," I said, defiant. And by speaking, I legitimised his presence.

>>3797770
Father issues? We have no father issues, we are not a soldier afterall
>>
>>3797742

>"You're not real," I said, defiant. And by speaking, I legitimised his presence.
>>
>>3797742
>"You're not real," I said, defiant. And by speaking, I legitimised his presence.
>>
>>3797742
>>"You're not real," I said, defiant. And by speaking, I legitimised his presence.
>>
>>3797769
>>3797779
>>3797793
>>3797802
>>3797829

Shades of black, varying degrees of the dark. They were false things, untrue things, things conjured from a tired and nerve-wrecked brain that feared the deployment to come. I shivered all over, from the tip of my ears to the end of my toes. It was late into winter. I was cold.

It wasn't him. He wasn't real. Dead men cannot bring their contempt and grudges from beyond the graves. Otherwise, we would all be doomed to an eternity of ouroboric justice-seeking. That man was not my father.

"Go away," I whispered. He leered. Two gemlike eyes burned fiercely mid-air, that clearest sign of Alexandrian heritage perched atop a noble aquiline nose. Even in death, I feared him. This was the visage of the man who had ruled this half of the world at the behest of the rarely-seen Emperor. His legions had marched the width and breadth of Sinae putting down unruly governors and destroying rebellious prefectures. And it was his personal legion that had seen Alexandria Eskhata sink into the sea.

My legion. The very same that Tiberius had fought for. It is true what they say - the sins of the father are the sins of the son. If only I had known before I dallied with Hood. What unbelievable bastard you are, Aurelius. To marry the woman whose people you destroyed.

There was a loud thump, breaking me out of my terrified reveries. The ghostly faces dissipated as I woke from my half-ensomnic state, that realm between dream and the real. I shook my head and tried to get my bearings, focusing on the lights.

Lights. There were lights. The glowing Alexandrian eyes of my father had not been entirely false.

"Torches," I said. Light-sources planted against the side of row-boats. Glints of its shed light showed off armour and weapons of the men within. "Torches! Alarm! Fire! Foe!" I scrabbled to my feet to shake the rest-fugue from my body. And all the while my mind whizzed. Why hadn't we gotten an advance warning from Dumpling? Where were the other nightwatchers? And what was that thumping noise?

I grabbed my pistol and fired at the boat. At this range, I couldn't miss. There was a loud bang which was followed by a cloud of smoke. It was too dark to see if I'd gotten a kill. These weapons are not intended for long-range, and hardly penetrate good metal armour. But the noise was useful. It woke me up, at the expense of my hearing for a good five seconds.

May it be that the others found it just as loud.

"Awake! Fear! Fire! Foe!" Monosyllables make the best klaxons. Sentences can easily get lost in the confusion of a ship in the middle of waking.

I ran. To where?

>The thumping noise. An oddity that needed investigation.

>Where my squad was nestled. Family.

>To get a running jump, then into the enemy boat. Precisely where they didn't expect me.

>Sentries. Why their silence?
>>
>>3797861

>The thumping noise. An oddity that needed investigation.

Also


My legion. The very same that Tiberius had fought for. It is true what they say - the sins of the father are the sins of the son. If only I had known before I dallied with Hood. What unbelievable bastard you are, Aurelius. To marry the woman whose people you destroyed.

Fuck aurelius, you are gonna need to deal with that with Hood man
>>
>>3797861

>Where my squad was nestled. Family
>>
>>3797861
>To get a running jump, then into the enemy boat. Precisely where they didn't expect me
>>
>>3797861

>The thumping noise. An oddity that needed investigation.
>>
>>3797861
>The thumping noise. An oddity that needed investigation.

The Squad should be coming to us.
>>
>>3797861

>The thumping noise. An oddity that needed investigation.

I can't help but think this is mind fuckery, we see no one, we see no sentries and the noise....is it Dumps?
>>
>>3797899
>>3797960
>>3798183
>>3798839
>The thumping noise. An oddity that needed investigation.

Thump-thump.

Like an irregular heartbeat of a dying patient it resounded throughout the ship. They unsettled me, those chaotic, oddly biorhythmical notes. Following no regular patterns except the absence of patterns, the sound itself disorientated and unhinged as it broadcasted itself throughout the hull of the transport. In between the unquiet silence that trickled to fill the absence of the thumps were strangled sounds artificially snuffed to the point of inaudibility.

So loud. So very loud. A wonder, then, that no one else seemed awake. No one save the ever-closing party of boarders, faceless and formless but for their shadow-cloaked garbs and glinting weapons. The torchlights that marked the ever increasing number of landers that surrounded the Enlightened Mouse only served to obfuscate, not clarify. Even the sea was calmed.

My head ached with each beat of the invisible drum. A tapping sound, decidedly more real in its wooden echoes, presaged the beginning of the boarding movements. Grapples were thrown, hooks lodged onto the crannies and nooks that made bumps and corners. I ignored them.

And all the while, that infernal drumbeat. That was harder to ignore. In the corner of my mind, still clinging to what passed for sanity in the disheveled chambers therein: mind fuckery. We see no one, we hear no one. Not the sailors. Not the sentries. Not even the occasional sleepless brother come to breath the night air.

I tasted lightning and fog in my tongue. The air seemed to shimmer, vibrate with an intensity that I had only seen once before. The tell-tale signs of magic, if one has the faculties to sense them. Dumpling? No, not Dumpling. Something stronger.

It is said that the Waelands are blessed by the gods. After the Wars of Unification launched by the Emperor that also saw the extermination of indigenous pantheons that had been ubiquitous in those days, some of the gods sought refuge in those island chains. Divine magics and hordes of zealots had not deterred the Emperor in his cryptic goals. Had the destruction of the gods been the chief purpose, or merely a waypoint to an even more sinister objective?

Ask not the sparrow how the eagle soars. I was Aurelius, common lay-brother of the Black Company, not the undying warlord that united half of the Known World. How could I divine such greed? The ambition that he'd had could burn the ice-plains of Khulan. And it had.

My mind is wandering again. Think. Possible causes.
>>
>>3799154

...Ceremonies and rituals, mask-things that hide and soften the nature of the arcana. Foolish, foolish, foolish Aurelius. You asked her to cast a potent thing, so near and so close to the sacred retreat of their priest-king. Labels and superstitions and myths, yes, but had I not seen those old Powers deeply rooted in the heart of the world before, to know better than to dismiss their existence outright? Did I really think scrying ahead to peek at such a place would not have consequences?

I suddenly felt the presence of my sword by my side with an acuteness I'd never felt. Or if I had, I didn't remember it. Curious, the ways chained memories by herbs and potions still made their presence felt. They come in flashes, then recede as the unnatural remedies against old memories fight them back in. Tiberius. Legions. A formless guilt that seemed to gnaw at me every time I saw Hood.

No time to dwell on shapeless unease, I thought to myself as I sped headlong into the ship. Deeper, deeper, skipping stairs and nearly breaking my neck on three occasions from almost-misses and near-slips. I was near now. The heart-drum-thing-beats were closer than ever, closer and closer I went to the archery range. Another loss, Tiberius, an unfriendly voice snickered in my head, its owner unknown and unremembered. Bad idea, Tek-voice pushed it aside, as pessimistic as its predecessor. Aren't gonna last. This is going to hurt you, kid.

I slowed down, drawing my sword.

It is a common gladius, though forged by a talented smith and well cared for th. Despite its apparent age, it has weathered its many-yeared use remarkably well. Countless scratch lines along its blade spoke to the innumerable enemies it was applied against, chipping bones and cracking armours. But for all that, an utterly ordinary weapon. It is just a sword. The only object gifted to me by my father, and that after he died and no longer had a use for it.

Thump-thump.

Behind the ritual room's door.

>I opened the door.

>I knocked.
>>
>>3799159
>>I opened the door.
>>
>>3799159

>I knocked

She was very specific in ordering us not to open the door and then ask her questions only she would know
>>
>>3799168
To whoever doesn't remember, maybe took too much amnesia medicine, it's in this post >>3792182
>>
>>3799168
>>3799171
Then
>I knocked.
>>
>>3799159
>I knocked
>>
>>3799171
We havenr been taking it for a couple of weeks now
>>
>>3799159
>I knocked.
>>
>>3799168
>>3799173
>>3799243
>>3799273

"Aurelius!" came the reply. "Just in time, too. I've finished up here. Could you step in and help with the cleanup?"

I almost breathed an audible sigh with relief. It was her. Not even the cleverest of mimics could copy that specific inflection, the way her r's lingered a touch further than conventional, that betrayed the non-native status of her Sinaean to a careful listener.

Before becoming my wife, Dumpling had been one of my first friends gained in the Company, together with Theophilos. Foreigners with open minds. She hadn't known much about Alexandrians, and by the time she found out about the stigma, she'd come to the point she didn't care.

Not that the Company was hostile to our kind. A decent few reside here, brothers in arms, and in blood. Rejects from the Capital, runaways. The maladies borne on our fool's blood such as its longevity and a penchant for self-repair allows advantages few outsiders can even dream of. Dozens of them found success climbing the ranks of the Company. According to the Annals, at least fifteen of the Captains had been Alexandrians.

But always there is an afternote of envy and dissatisfaction in the records left behind by scriveners detailing the inhuman feats of the occasional Alexandrian brother of the Company. The insinuations that if it weren't for our bloodborne fragment of divinity, we would be nothing. It is similar to the resentment felt by the hard-working musician for his gifted rival who was simply born with it.

An inbred not with the natural congenital defects associated with such spider's webs of a family line, but advantages. I can't blame the common Sinaeans for denigrating us behind our backs.

Dumpling was indifferent to it all. The dirty looks in the street, the scandalised whispers. Incest-born. Sister-fucker. Though I left the Capital, the Capital had never left me.

But not to Dumpling. Fire-souled and blessed with a youthful indignance, she'd had the spirit to retort to such implications. "You don't choose to be born in this world," she would say. "What matters is not our birth, but the way we carry ourselves in the world. So chin up, Aurelius. And stop looking down on the ground all the time!"

Happy memories are few for me, drugged up as I am. She has ever been a faithful friend through all that. And now, she was my wife.

>I opened the door, grateful for the respite from the nightmare around me. Surely, I thought, this must be a bad dream. I must have fallen asleep while on the post. I found myself looking forward to the beating I would get, as per Company regulations. The flesh heals, but the mind's scar...

>Hadn't she told me to ask her a question before opening the door?
>>
>>3799531

>Hadn't she told me to ask her a question before opening the door?

One that only she would know
>>
>>3799531

>Hadn't she told me to ask her a question before opening the door?
Let's vet our wife back, no fucking double crit denon will take her from us, you are not even a 100 you bastard
>>
>>3799571
>66
Mess with God and you may face the Devil
>>
>>3799580
Time to beat the double crit devil
>>
>>3799531
>>Hadn't she told me to ask her a question before opening the door?
>>
>>3799531
>Hadn't she told me to ask her a question before opening the door?
>>
>>3799531
>>Hadn't she told me to ask her a question before opening the door?
>>
>>3799559
>>3799571
>>3799633
>>3799769
>>3800630
>Hadn't she told me to ask her a question before opening the door?
>An extension to the lease on life; the Nightmare goes on

Not for the first time, it was suspicion that saved my life. Though I wonder now whether I would have been happier if I had simply done as the voice suggested. Sorceries require the willful belief on the ensorcelled victim. I would have died believing that Dumpling was alive and well, and the end of this terrible dream.

There are worse ways to die than thinking everything is all right to the end.

"You told me to ask you a question that only the two of us would know before I opened the door." I rested my left hand against the warm wooden surface, feeling my fingers tingle against the invisible glyphs and wards that she had woven for protection.

Dumpling's voice did not miss a beat. "I forgot," her voice said. A petulant note crept up in her words. "I think I have a bit of a leeway here. I did skip lunch and dinner to do this thing for you, after all. Ask me your question so I can leave. I'm ravenous."

"Why did you leave your home?" I asked.

She told me without a second of hesitation. That confirmed my suspicion.

The real Dumpling would have never divulged that kind of private details in her past. There are secrets even lovers do not share. There are so many skeletons in the collective closet of the brothers of the Company that to open them would take decades, to record them... centuries.

The thing had access to her thoughts and memories, as I thought. To ask a question she and I both knew would have proven nothing. I had aimed instead not for the facts but the human quality in her. The secretiveness all brothers share.

Here I omit the sad tale of Dumpling, youngest of the Three Sisters. The dead deserve their privacy.

In fairy tales, curses are resolved by bravely charging princes rushing headlong through the brambled forest to rescue the sleeping princess. I was the furthest thing from a knight in shining armour. There was no such passive obstacle here, waiting to be struck by a magical sword that glows with the fury of the sun. Nor was there a wise old man ready to give advice and sacrifice his life for the sake of the Hero, so that he may continue on in his journey.

No, life is nothing like the fairy tales, I reflected. The Princess is dead, and the Wicked Witch is a thing of the warp.

>I backed away from the door. The rational course. The survivor's course.

>Yet, knowing full well that my life is not a story of the budding hero destined to defeat great evils and rescue fair damsels, knowing that I had no plot armour such protagonists enjoyed, knowing that the Princess who was supposed to rescue was very likely dead, or worse... [Enter]
>>
>>3801710

>Yet, knowing full well that my life is not a story of the budding hero destined to defeat great evils and rescue fair damsels, knowing that I had no plot armour such protagonists enjoyed, knowing that the Princess who was supposed to rescue was very likely dead, or worse... [Enter]

What the fuck? Dumpling died? Shit that was harsh.

And now we are going to die too, simply because there is really no other option, maybe if we die we can stop remembering, maybe even end up not hurting Hood with our memories, she can take care of Honey for us, we trust her with that, let's hope she is not too far in love that she cannot overcome our lost.
>>
>>3801710
>Yet, knowing full well that my life is not a story of the budding hero destined to defeat great evils and rescue fair damsels, knowing that I had no plot armour such protagonists enjoyed, knowing that the Princess who was supposed to rescue was very likely dead, or worse... [Enter]

Always Romantic.Dumpling no
>>
>>3801746
Look at the positives if we die we won't need to deal with Hood
>>
>>3801710
>>Yet, knowing full well that my life is not a story of the budding hero destined to defeat great evils and rescue fair damsels, knowing that I had no plot armour such protagonists enjoyed, knowing that the Princess who was supposed to rescue was very likely dead, or worse... [Enter]
>>
>>3801758
let's trust that our sword, a completely ordinary piece of steel, can help us here, it is nothing like the weapons the emperor used to battle gods and demons, it's just an ordinary item we got from father, but it's what we have.
>>
>>3801710
>Yet, knowing full well that my life is not a story of the budding hero destined to defeat great evils and rescue fair damsels, knowing that I had no plot armour such protagonists enjoyed, knowing that the Princess who was supposed to rescue was very likely dead, or worse... [Enter]

This is objectively the stupid move but fuck you op Dumpling is the only one of the harem I like. Maybe we'll have to bring Tiberius out for the power up.
>>
>>3801768
What did you like about her?
>>
>>3801776
Can't say about him, but her inocense, earnest shows of emotions, her jealous moments or when she tries to grab our attention, the fact that she is before anything else Aurelius's friend and how good hearted, the most of all of us, she is.
Let's hope we can save that, or at least have a chance to.
I like the 3 of them very much, passion, goodness and wisdom. Its very different in interactions in general,but love all the same.
>>
>>3801784
I think it speaks to how terrible a QM I am that I know less about the characters than one of the readers haha
>>
>>3801785
As always, you sell yourself short, but like I said before, you made us care about those characters and you wrote them, whatever impression or reasons to like or not that I have it's because you put them there.
>>
>>3801736
>>3801746
>>3801758
>>3801768
>Yet, knowing full well that my life is not a story of the budding hero destined to defeat great evils and rescue fair damsels, knowing that I had no plot armour such protagonists enjoyed, knowing that the Princess who was supposed to rescue was very likely dead, or worse... [Enter]

This is suicide. I do not recommend trying this at home or elsewhere. It takes a magical sword in the hands of a young farmboy full of hope and those other things to make such a being that could challenge higher beings. And madness. Did I mention madness? I seem to mention it often. It runs in the family, this insanity of ours, just as potent as our cursed blood. Born of the Great Liar, we share that detestable foolishness that saw the conquering of Sinae and beyond.

Father, were you a monster because of our shared ancestor? Is it simply a destiny I must walk toward like any and all Scions?

I take solace in my own brand of madness, then. His was the cold-blooded mind that sent thousands against millions to test military theorems. I had worse odds here, but at least I sacrificed none but myself.

How pitiful I must seem to my illustrious ancestor, that man who spent millions to subjugate billions. Life was a game of numbers to him, I think. A legion here, a legion there, twenty thousand civilian casualties, five hundred thousand enslaved. The functions of administration demands unpersoning of people. It would have been unthinkable for him to kill himself for the sake of a single girl.

I opened the door, knowing that what lay behind was a monster.

And that knowledge was crucial. I console myself with the thought that Dumpling knew what she was doing when she wove her last spells. Though not as powerful as Shamaness, she had a clever mind for these things. Sorcery is the stuff of unlived dreams and unremembered half-thoughts and all else that we ignore in our daily meanderings in life. Full of chaos, yes, but also operating on a fundamentally human logic.

Which is to say, no logic at all. Hope is the great irrationality that overwhelms whatever trace of the calculating machine exists in man. There is no basis for expecting a happier future, yet we do so anyway. Question the wrinkliest of geezers and the most cynical of youths, and you will find below their world-weary exteriors and interiors, deep within where not even their mind dares explore in fear of what it will find about the Self - there lies that rotten thing, too wispy to call substantial yet subsisting nonetheless. The final gift from the gods in Pandora's box of delights.

By knowing what it was even as I entered, I prevented its freedom, if only for a moment. I wasn't coming in to let Dumpling out for her dinner. Instead, I was a challenger approaching the ring where the champion stood, stopping him from a premature egress. Reality does not work that way. The challenged can simply leave without encountering the challenger.
>>
>>3801776
I felt her dynamic with Aurelius is a lot more organic. Shamaness is very tropey(not in a bad way) and anons forced the Hood thing imo.

Ignore me, im just the guy who is still salty moralfags killed Sergeant.
>>
>>3801886

Lose all pretense to knowledge of what is real and unreal once sorcery begins.

I closed the door behind me. The way was unshut, Dumpling's final spells winking away. It wouldn't have held it for long, anyway. But longer than I could stand against it, maybe.

There in the middle of the expansive once-archery range stood It. A grossly exaggerated deformation of human sexuality, it grinned maniacal, all black carapace and teeth and lidless eyes. Such sensuality. Fleshy tentacles entwined alongside multi-limbed insectoid legs that skittered unceasingly even as it remained more or less stationary, each step a part of the concerted ballet that sought to entice and arouse. Its many breasts, each one different yet somehow perfect all the same, swayed gently on inhuman torso, bringing those tender thoughts of mothers, unbidden. Many faces it had, wearing them like a parade of masks. In one moment, its face was that of a full-lipped courtesan, then a comely peasant-wife the next.

Some, I realised, had been the sacrificed women I'd seen in my brief foray into Death.

There was an immensity to it, a decadent overfullness of life. Its lifeheart beat with the things of the lives it had consumed. Did Dumpling's heart beat within, now?

Its amusement slammed against me, an almost visible wall of emotion that mocked my futile stand. I was an insect against higher beings as they. Are they gods, or demons? A better question: is there a difference?

It was patient, for now. It was feeling agreeable to playing with its dinner. Worship us, it urged into my mind. Obey our divine person. Supplicate before us. We promise you succour from this life that has treated you so rudely. A pleasure unattainable in the mortal realm. To be one forever with your loved ones.

I think I preferred gods when they remained as statues and icons.

>bo3 1d100
>>
Rolled 57 (1d100)

>>3801898
If Tyche had a boon to give us this would be the time, may we find Dumps in this hell, and bring her mind and body.

>and then I roll a 100
>>
Rolled 61 (1d100)

>>3801898
>>
Rolled 62 (1d100)

>>3801898
Oh shit
>>
>>3801913
>>3801908
>>3801903
at least no doubles, lets see what we were trying to do
>>
>>3801903
>>3801908
>>3801913
We had a good run boys
>>
If its as bad as it looks, well, at least we died doing the stupid shit we literally could not cease doing from the beginning.
>>
>>3801969
Consistency, a romantic
I'm just mad that we may lose Dumps because of that previous doubles, the hell is that.
>>
>>3801903

You are a man of many torments. Many names you have had, many more than the ones you dare remember.

Valiant Tiberius. Always at the head of the march, taking the vanguard to fight against the enemy. Bloodlust overtook you, I see. It is anger. Such fury against your progenitor, the gene-sire that made you, moulded you into being. It was redirected against others with violence. Countless people lay bleeding beneath your feet. Yes, you were great once.

Nothing like the cowering thing you are now.

The now-you. Aurelius. Sentimental, caring, torn and tired from trying to be responsible. The weakest you have been, so wrapped around with your new family.

The most human.

You sought to fill a void left behind by your true family, and so made do with a false one. Collecting children as though they were arrowheads. And wives to match. And thus, you are a thing of suffering. As all humans should be.

This pleases us.

...But they are not the only faces we see in your heart. Curious, curious. An endless box of faces, masks. A man-thing only has one soul. You are a multitude.

So many voices, deciding, deliberating, voting. They weaken you so. They foist on you relationships that will only end in grief. Uncaring minds control your every move and thought.

Or are they you? Are you in truth an amalgamation of foreign minds? Are you, like us?

No matter.

You are a miserable thing. Your life is already filled with sorrow. Unto what depth will you delve? What torturous existence, before you cry out the final surrender to death?

Live, foreigner. Live in the knowledge that you were helpless to protect those you loved. Live while knowing that we have taken an interest in you and yours. Live with the understanding this sorceress is only the first of many to come to us.

Live. And by living, suffer. Yes, this delights us.

Run, Many-Things. Run before we change our minds.

>run
>beg
>devotio
>>
>>3802320
>devotio
>>
>>3802320
>beg
Could we try summon the devil or other spirit from the past? Someone remember the name?
>>
>>3802320
>devotio
>>
>>3802320
devotio

I seriously do not undesrstand the options
>>
>>3802320
>>devotio
>>
>>3802671
The entity is offering us a deal. It enjoys fucking with us so it will allow us to leave with our life. This option means Dumpling belongs to it.

We can beg, try to bargain with a creature that is clearly without empathy. This probably kills us.

The third option should be obvious if you remember the other times we have used it.
>>
>>3802320
>>beg
>>
>>3802671
Here

Changing to this >>3802589

Beg for anyone who'll listen, we have to have a chance here
>>
>>3803428
That's more like devotio though since you're making a prayer to whatever deity is out there.
>>
>>3802796
i got a different vibe from the options

I think >run is to accept Dumplin's fate and live in suffering

then >beg is to try and amuse her somehow in exchange for her live, since we already have ours we would be asking for hers

and >devotio is to offere her a deal for Dumpling as well as worship, maybe doing a sacrifice or a special mission for her

now I'm confused too

>>3803437
yeah, If the goddess of chance that we were going to invoke earlier is still listening she could help us defeat and save Dumpling so we can continue to amuse her further
>>
>>3802589
>devotio
I will change to that in hopes we are addressing emperor.
GOD EMPEROR OF MAN SMITE THAT ABOMINATION!
>>
>>3803446
Clarification - devotio is gated with gods that you know the names of. You do not know this thing's name, so you can't invoke it's name in worship.

Will try to update later, busy busy day
>>
>>3803554
ok, going with devotio then, whatever gives us a shot at taking the girl back
>>
>>3803554
[Correction: will try to make a proper update later.]
>devotio

Higher Being, these words are for you alone.

>Mars Ultor
Vengeful Lord of the Crimson Star, remember the covenant made in aeons past with the Great Liar, my ancestor. I promise you my wholehearted worship of the cult militant if you would lend me your aid. [Tiberius Ascendant]

>Dark Mother
Lady of the Black, Jealous Mother - your children suffer at the hands of a foreign god. Will you do nothing to protect your flock? [The Jealous Mother-Wife]

>Emperor
Damn you. Help me. [At What Cost?]
>>
>>3803606
>>Dark Mother

her jealousy may be good for us, she will not let these creature take dumpling from her, she has many amusements to squeeze out of us
>>
>>3803606
>Dark Mother
FUCK IT!
>>
>>3803606
>>Emperor
>Damn you. Help me. [At What Cost?]
>>
>>3803606
>>Emperor
>Damn you. Help me. [At What Cost?]
The Emperor protects.
>>
>>3803606
>Damn you. Help me. [At What Cost?]
>>
>>3803606

>Emperor
Damn you. Help me. [At What Cost?]

Groveling to this bastard sickens me, but to save our loved ones....
The worse figure possible, can he save those we love?
>>
>>3803606

>Dark Mother
Lady of the Black, Jealous Mother - your children suffer at the hands of a foreign god. Will you do nothing to protect your flock? [The Jealous Mother-Wife]
>>
>>3803606

>Mars Ultor

Fuck you all, you know I'm right.
>>
>>3803606
>emperor.
Comon gramps you gotta care just a little
>>
>>3803644
>>3803792
>>3803801
>>3803808
>>3806007

I waited, petrified before the thing's predatory gaze. I was a mouse counting down the rest of his life before the viper. The only thing that could save me now was an even bigger predator. And maybe, just maybe, the two predators would be too busy fighting each other to care about the easy morsel of soul that trembled before their titanic duel.

A second passed. Another.

Nothing.

It cocked its head, puzzled by my lack of locomotion. It had expected me to flee the moment it gave me leave to do so. And the last few chains of hope that had been holding me together snapped. What did I expect? That a radiant ghost of the Emperor would appear out of thin air to smite down the creature? Even at the front steps of death I had the imaginations of an overactive child.

The Emperor does not protect. He couldn't even protect himself.

I think, in that moment, the one thing that really angered me the most was that I'd bothered begging to that arsehole.

>The Mundane Sword; A Last, Defiant Stab
A better writer than I once wrote: "From death's door, I stab at thee." The feeling of desperation borne on those words, I now understood. Death is no consequence. What matters is the lives that you leave behind. With my destruction would come the termination of its malevolent interest on the rest of the family.

>Survivor's Guilt; Life Goes On
Not many can claim survival from their first encounter with a Higher Being. Those who do are either priests, who are liars by trade, or the truly unfortunate. Would that I were a priest. What the encounter left behind was a promise of more grief to come to those close to me, but also a sadistic reassurance that I would never die - not until I truly willed it. Look at the bright side. Kings have sacrificed more for less, but I got it practically for free.
>>
>>3806249
>the mundane sword;a last, defiant stab.
>>
>>3806249
>The Mundane Sword; A Last, Defiant Stab
>>
>>3806249
>The Mundane Sword; A Last, Defiant Stab

goodbye sword

kek, imagine condemning hood and Honey and the children and everyone alse to torture, nope

would it be possible to save Dumps?
>>
>>3806249

>The Mundane Sword; A Last, Defiant Stab

Is this real life? That damn double crit wants to rob us of everything!
>>
>>3806349
there's still the possibility of we being in mind fuckery territory
>>
>>3806249
>mundane sword

>>3806405
The thing might be Dumpling disguised actually, being an ensorcelled even if we stab her we could try to save her, they can take quite a beating.
>>
>>3806249
>The Mundane Sword; A Last, Defiant Stab


Not much of a choice.

Should have brought out Tiberius.
>>
>>3806249
>>The Mundane Sword; A Last, Defiant Stab
>>
>>3806254
>>3806286
>>3806307
>>3806349
>>3806422
>>3806491
>>3806913

I am nothing near like a veteran of the Black Company. Sure, I've been a legionary for some time - quite the "some time", if my reflexive muscle-memory with this old sword tells true, though I do not remember in full the events that happened, save for mumbles of guilt suppressed. Later came the time in the road, a single wanderer traveling Sinaean passages that wove through mountains and valleys. Even then, I had to fight. Bandits, duplicitous villagers, mobs that saw my eyes and went mad.

Always there were the needless battles, the unnecessary killing. But I survived. I threw away lofty ideals to scamper along another day. Then tiring of the solo life, I threw my lot with the Company. Little did I expect the immensity of the battles I would partake in.

But there are moral baggages I still am not willing to part with. My line in the sand. They are so easily washed away by the waves, but I draw them nonetheless. Is the metaphor a warning of futility in maintaining a semblance of morality in our mad, mad world? Or the nobility of pursuing that line despite knowing full well its impermanence?

I see in the Black Company a microcosm of myself. It has well earned its black reputation. Our clients are imbeciles, our enemies manifold and powerful. But it's survived this long. They have had to do some things - some despicable things - to continue dragging its foot in the dusty tomes of history. Through the internal Purges and the eastern Crusades and the Jihads that spilled over from the Golden Pass, traitorous clients and reluctant patrons. It's outlived them all. And, I suspect, it will outlive the Empire yet.

Tricks and treacheries. Well enough a weapon to use against mortal men, but a god? I was fresh out of ideas.

I do wonder what entry will be left behind for me in the Annals. Something short, I hope. Long stories do so tire the reader. I didn't need an entire biography dedicated to me. Just a short blurb. Aurelius - Sergeant, Scrivener.

That will do me just fine. It is more than I deserve.

Plunging my faithful sword into the belly of the beast, I closed my eyes. And I waited for the End.
>>
>>3808478
damn

the heart
>>
>>3808478

"Wake up."

Five more minutes.

"Come on, wake up!"

Mars, what does a man have to do to get a second of rest? I turned around, putting my back to the insistent hand. A voice I would recognise from the pits of Hell harrumphed. Her small hand explored the ridges of my back, formed from shoulder blades and the tiny spined bumps from the... spine. She attempted a tickle based off a poor understanding of human anatomy. "If you don't hurry up, Hood says she won't let you have any food."

"Five more minutes," I said. I think. Maybe it sounded more like "Fvv mrr mmnn." I don't know. I heard myself clearly enough.

"Mom!" she said, running out. I liked hearing her exuberant voice. Normally. Now was not a normally. Now was bloody... noon?

I fell off my bed. Rolled on the floor. It smelled like earth. Why had I expected the brine-baked smell of a ship's woodboard? Why was the ground so goddamn firm?

And why had I been crying?

Some terrible nightmares, perhaps. I get them often when I don't take my medicines. They suppress the dark things in the mind, gained from a year of mercenary work. Though I think I might have taken them before.

Hard to tell, memories being as foggy as they are. I rubbed my eyes. Noon, was it? Have to round the children together for food. Watch in case they tried to throw the greens below the table. "Where's Mulberry?" I said.

"Who's Mulbrie?" Honey asked. "Is he A-relly's dream-friend? I have a dream-friend, too. He's very loud."

>"She's..." I paused. Mulberry. Isn't that some kind of a tree?

>"Is he why you keep waking up in the middle of the night to tell me about ghosts under the bed?" I said tiredly. Who needs insomnia when you have a child to take care of?
>>
>>3808523
>>"She's..." I paused. Mulberry. Isn't that some kind of a tree?
>>
>>3808523

>"Is he why you keep waking up in the middle of the night to tell me about ghosts under the bed?" I said tiredly. Who needs insomnia when you have a child to take care of?
>>
>>3808523
>"She's..." I paused. Mulberry. Isn't that some kind of a tree?
>>
>>3808523

>"She's..." I paused. Mulberry. Isn't that some kind of a tree?
>>
>>3808523

>"Is he why you keep waking up in the middle of the night to tell me about ghosts under the bed?" I said tiredly. Who needs insomnia when you have a child to take care of?
>>
>>3808523
>>"Is he why you keep waking up in the middle of the night to tell me about ghosts under the bed?" I said tiredly. Who needs insomnia when you have a child to take care of?
>>
>>3808523
>"She's..." I paused. Mulberry. Isn't that some kind of a tree?
>>
>>3808536
>>3808581
>>3809273
>>3810037
>"She's..." I paused. Mulberry. Isn't that some kind of a tree?

They make beautiful papers, Chief Scrivener Xavier said. A rare import from the distant lands of Wae. Curious people lived in those islands. Mostly kept to themselves, though it saw sizeable streams of visitors every year who saught the peace and tranquility their mountains were famed for. Perhaps we might go there someday.

Or not. Our line of work didn't exactly cause overjoyment to our hosts. If the brothers of the Black Company were to tread its armoured boots, that would be for our skills at conflict resolution. Whatever peace and tranquility those serene isles had would be dispelled by our presence. Sort of defeats the purpose of going all the way there, really.

"Aren't you coming to eat?" she asked, scrunching up her face in an adorable, little frown. Honey was concerned now. "You normally run at the first word of food."

That's rude. I don't do that. What am I, a dog? "I'll be right there," I promised. And for the last time, I tried to remember what the dream had been.

I shrugged, and gave up chasing those elusive tendrils of sadness.

It hadn't been that pleasant a dream, anyway. Dusting myself off, I found with great surprise that I rather liked the smell of the noonsun-dried earth. To plant two feet on solid ground. As if I had been elsewhere for some time. Curioser and curioser.

Satisfied that I'd rid myself of dirt and dust, I walked, hand in hand with the little girl who had despite my words waited for me. I marveled at the way her fulsome head of hair bounced with every determined leap as she tried to maintain my pace. I would slow down, but that would only infuriate her. Children so love to imitate their par- uh, caretakers. We crossed the campground to the mess tents like that, Honey hopping alongside my consciously normalised walk. Already I could hear the mulch on the menu. Nothing good. That was almost policy in the Company. Our cooks, bless them, made do somehow despite inconsistent supply wagons and bugger all for sources of water. That didn't stop me from loudly detesting the metaphorical fruits of their labours. At least fruits taste sweet. But all in good fun. All in good fun.

Ah, there's our squad's tent now. Time to join Sergeant and all the rest.

~FIN~
>>
>>3810134
seriously?

did I not understand the options again?
>>
>>3810171
Were we trying to remember when we chose the "she's..." option? The hell is happening?

Is this the end of the thread or something?
>>
>>3810134
I must say I'm sad if this is it, there were many things left to do with him, and even slightly cheated that a double crit spawned an unbeatavle enemy where our options were run and ruin everything to everyone or die and ruin everything too.

Still hoping its mind fuckery, I mean, he had to write those passages about the door and meeting the entity and I don't think he stoped to do it at the archery range.
>>
>>3810171
First of all, an apology. It is my inability to wrap things together that makes it all the more ridiculous that I tried my hand in QMing in the first place. There are many narrative choices I made that seemed like a good idea at the time that later on, came to bite me in the arse, because I ran into walls. Lately I've not been pushing against a wall. It's become a cliff.

So there are some ways this might go.

>The quest ends here, and Aurelius enjoys a peaceful afterlife with Sergeant
My expected route. I was growing increasingly burned out by the character I was writing out myself, gloomier and gloomier as time went on. I also think after this you players wouldn't want more of this stuff, anyway.

...in the highly unlikely case where you do actually want more from this shamble of a QM, who has given you an ending that left much to be desired, and actually think against all evidence that I may be able to continue providing something of enjoyment, I left possibilities open (because, like all QMs, I am a masochist).

>The quest goes on [Innocence]
The Emperor has heard your prayers. And in his own ineffable way, granted you your wish - freedom from his cursed lineage. The bloodline was your sacrifice to destroy the god-thing, and the force of its death-cry the reason for your chronological displacement. Yet with the loss of the cursed blood comes certain disadvantages.

>The quest goes on [Imperial]
You are trapped in a dream realm, a psychic lashback of a dying god. But how to return to the real world? To use the sword, tear the empyrean fabric a new one. But that may not be enough.

Even if people do want this quest to go on, I think I need to take a break. Might pick up one of the other quests I've shelved to give myself a change of pace, at the very least.

I'm a pretty bad QM. Thanks for sticking so far. And, as always, sorry.
>>
>>3810221
Qm, i followed the quest since thread 1 and I had a lot of fun, I don't want you to suffer but this shit end cannot stand.


>The quest goes on [Innocence]
I'm putting this but the other is fine to, whatever option is good for me
You don't even need to continue much dude, just a bit more and tgen leave us there and you can write other things, I'll be sure to play them since I like your writing
>>
>>3810221
>>The quest ends here, and Aurelius enjoys a peaceful afterlife with Sergeant
>>
>>3810221

>The quest goes on [Innocence]

Hey, that's better than expected, we manage to renounce that old bastard and attone for our past.
>>
>>3810221
>The quest ends here, and Aurelius enjoys a peaceful afterlife with Sergeant
>>
>>3810221

>The quest goes on [Innocence]
>>
>>3810221
>>The quest goes on [Innocence]

hate doing this to you QM but once again, your writing is fine and you are too hard on yourself
At least leave it as open-ended finish in case you ever feel like picking it up again, I remember when there was a healthy dose of comedy and light-heartedness but lately, you have being focusing on the gloom, not that it's bat but it seems to be affecting you
>>
>>3810221
>>The quest ends here, and Aurelius enjoys a peaceful afterlife with Sergeant

You've earned the rest Tyche.

Now let me immortalize you by stealing your plot hooks for my d&d campaign.
>>
>>3810221
>The quest goes on [Imperial]


This will be my third time saying it but you are actually quite good at this and far, far too hard on yourself.
>>
>>3810221
>>The quest goes on [Imperial]
>You are trapped in a dream realm, a psychic lashback of a dying god. But how to return to the real world? To use the sword, tear the empyrean fabric a new one. But that may not be enough.
I'd hate to see this end but if you need to put this quest on hold or just end it, I won't stop you.
Also I think the imperial lineage is key part of Aurelius and shouldn't just disappear.
>>
>>3810221
>>The quest ends here, and Aurelius enjoys a peaceful afterlife with Sergeant
I mean I would like it to continue but if you're feeling burnt out perhaps it's better to call it here.
>>
>>3810221
>The quest ends here, and Aurelius enjoys a peaceful afterlife with Sergeant
Go Tyche. Be free from this burden. I feel that you've been burnt out by this quest and it would be better for our mutual enjoyment to end it here
>>
>>3810221
>>The quest ends here, and Aurelius enjoys a peaceful afterlife with Sergeant

I just want you to be okay Tyche. I like your quest, and I like you. I wish you were kinder to yourself. You're a lot better than you give yourself credit for.

While I'd like the quest to go on, I'd rather you be OK than us get more quest.
>>
>>3811123
>on hold

That would be better
>>
>>3810221

>The quest goes on [Innocence]

>The quest goes on [Imperial]

I would vote Imperial but either one is better
>>
>>3810221

>The quest goes on [Imperial]
>>
>>3810221

>The quest goes on [Innocence]

>The quest goes on [Imperial]
>>
>>3810221
>>The quest ends here, and Aurelius enjoys a peaceful afterlife with Sergeant
See you in your new quest
>>
>>3810221

>The quest goes on [Innocence]
>>
>>3810578
Nice, hope your PCs have fun

>>3810259
I tend to go full headache when I can't think of anything to write, which is part of the problem, it sort of bounces up and down

>>3810452
That was a big part of it, though it coincides with some RL things

>>3811119
Thank you, if only I could keep consistency in writing

>>3811123
[SUFFERING]

>>3811147
>>3811175
>>3811224
Very thoughtful players have I

>>3813785
I was split on either the Ama-gi storyline that I'd shelved back when I fell sick or a return to Commentarii, buuuut here I go Aurelius'ing again
>>
>>3822673
Sorry for that qm hehe, let's find a suitable place to let Aurelius leave his stories

For any anon that haven't seen it
>>3822663



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