>>4037873
Grunting, you swing your legs over the side of the bed, causing Klaus to move to your side, holding your arm, pulling you up. Shaking him off, you give him a playful bap to his shoulder, saying, “I can walk. I’m old, not a cripple.” Klaus gives a slight smile, and as you move to the door of your chambers, Klaus opens it, with Otto trailing behind the two of you. Exiting into the hallway, the first thing you see is a certain black-haired twin of Ottos’, sitting primly in a chair. Leaping up, she barrels towards you at speed, crashing into you.

“Father!” Lena wraps her arms around you, hugging you tight. “I was so worried! Otto told me what had happened, and we all feared the worst!” Placing a hand on your forehead, Lena looks into your eyes. “Do you have a fever? Are you-” You cut off the other extremely chatty twin with a ruffling, patting her head while mussing her hair.

“I’m fine, Len.” Maneuvering her around, you continue onwards. “Worry not. My time’s not quite come.” Now with a gaggle of your children following, you head further into the castle, admiring the shadows that play along the stone wall, cast from the smoky torches. They dance, to and fro, playing with the firelight like vættr. You saw the forest shades, once. You were separated from your force, during a skirmish, and you… bah. No use reminiscing. Most of the men from that time are dead, succeeded by their sons. The spirits of the tors wail- stop that. Guilt is a young man’s distraction.

After several minutes of idle chatter with your children, you finally reach your cabinet, where there sits Hellman Liebrecht, your oldest friend. Moving to sit in your large, cushioned chair, you slump down, looking at Hell. Your children stand by the door, a pregnant silence filling the room. Looking up at Klaus, you gesture at him dismissively. “Well? What are you waiting for? Tell the others! Shoo!” Apparently satisfied by your usual gruffness, they disperse, leaving you alone with your best friend at last. Sighing, you look up at him. “So, where were we?”

Hell offers you an awkward smile. “Are you sure you’re fine to continue, Klaus? I can stay another day, should it be necessary-” You cut him off.

“Bah. Don’t talk down to me like you aren’t an old fart neither, Hell. Where’d we leave off?” Shrugging, Hellman just opens a nearby bottle of wine, pouring the both of you a glass. Taking a long swig from your drink, you look up at Hell expectantly.

“Well, we were in the middle of reviewing my hold’s most recent census.” Hell holds a sheaf of papers for your perusal. Grabbing the parchment, you look over the script, neat and tight, nothing like the overblown calligraphy of the Druids. Surprised, you look up at Hell, shaggy beard wobbling with the movement.

(Cont/3)

>>4037876
“This is good, Hell. What merchant did you get to write this? I know your chicken-scratch, this is too pretty.”

Hellmans’ eyes glint with pride. “My youngest, Ana.” As you continue to read the papers, Hell pours more wine. “She wishes to be the court scribe, you know. Out of all my three children, I’m glad at least one took those lessons I paid Arman for to heart.”

Squinting at the parchment, you continue reading Hells’ report. “... Isn’t that a bit low in the court for a noble?” Your friend shrugs.

“You know me. I promised to never become my father. I let them follow their hearts.” Saying nothing, you read further, almost halfway done. Hell always was the sentimental type, between the two of you. Finishing the report, you relax, simply sitting in silence with your friend. After a while, he clears his throat uncomfortably. “Klaus… about earlier…” You know where this is going. “While it’s not my place to tell you what to do, regarding the succession, I really do think you should choose an heir. Especially after… earlier.”

Sighing yet again, you slump down in your chair, swirling your wine in its glass, and stroking your beard, considering his statement.

>”You do make a point, Hell. I’ll announce my choice to the court as soon as possible.”
>”Bah, I can last a few months. Might as well organize a ceremony, organize heralds.”
>”And let me guess, I know which of my sons you want to inherit the throne.”

>>4037878
>”And let me guess, I know which of my sons you want to inherit the throne.”

>>4037878
>”And let me guess, I know which of my sons you want to inherit the throne.”

>>4037878
>>”Bah, I can last a few months. Might as well organize a ceremony, organize heralds.”

>>4037878
>>”Bah, I can last a few months. Might as well organize a ceremony, organize heralds.”

>>4037878
>”And let me guess, I know which of my sons you want to inherit the throne.”

>>4037878
>>”And let me guess, I know which of my sons you want to inherit the throne.”

>>4037878
>>”Bah, I can last a few months. Might as well organize a ceremony, organize heralds.”
And then we nominate our daughter for the lol and to the shock of everyone

>>4037878
>”And let me guess, I know which of my sons you want to inherit the throne.”

>>4037897
Sounds interesting, I'm down. Time to load up on the hoes mad memes

>>4037878
>”You do make a point, Hell. I’ll announce my choice to the court as soon as possible.”

>>4037878
>>"Bah, I can last a few months. Might as well organize a ceremony, organize heralds.”
>> and then do >>4037897 for same reasons.

Writing. I think I can incorporate both votes.

>>4037878
“Bah. I can last a few months. Might as well organize a ceremony, organize heralds.” You squint at Hell. “And let me guess, I know which of my sons you want to inherit the throne.” You roll your eyes, as Hell chuckles.

“Can you blame me? You can’t deny it, Klaus, your eldest would make a fine king.” He flashes a smile. “It’s only an added benefit that he married my daughter.” You take a swig of wine, and grumble.

“I’m not even on my deathbed, and the damned vultures have begun to circle my carcass.”

Hellman laughs, again. “You can’t fault me, can you? I’m still a noble, after all. I have interests as well.”

“Baah.” You draw out the sound, expressing your mock displeasure even more. “You dare act the fool before your King?” After a stony-faced silence, you break, laughing out loud. Trailing off, you slump back in your chair, swirling the wine around the glass. “I do love Klaus, but.” You pause, considering your words carefully. “Picking the elder son out of tradition alone is…” You motion with your hand. “You know.”

Hell nods carefully. “But you *have* given thought to the issue?” A silent nod is enough to reassure him. “That is all I ask, Klaus.” Drumming on the arm of your chair, you stare off into space, letting Hell’s voice fill the background, as he begins talking about his stables. You always found his passion project to be interesting enough, but you have more important things to ruminate.

Such as the succession. He’s right. You can’t go on forever, like this, or something worse than what happened in the House of Echzan fifty years ago might transpire. If you died, and no clear heir was named.... You shudder to think of the carnage. This time, with a kingdom as the toll. But which of your children?

Your sons are the obvious candidates. Klaus III, the Stalwart. You liked the sound of that, but what if jealousy captured the hearts of the others? Your own older brother had been given the throne out of tradition, and it had damned Hohenwald to bloodshed, even before the rebellion.

Then, the others came to mind. Albrecht, the Cunning. He would keep the court in line, though not like you, with an iron fist. No, he would lead them through force of personality. They’d eat out of his hand. But, then that niggling voice at the back of your mind continued,What if he is not strong enough to lead the nation through times of strife? He always preferred to talk his way out of problems, even as a child.
(Cont.)

>>4038019

Then there was Otto. Dear, quiet Otto. Otto the Sage, they would name him. Brilliant, but quiet. You wouldn’t want to push the kingship upon him, but… he could take a new path. A path you didn’t follow, leading this kingdom into another century, but one of peace, instead of bloodshed. The court would eat him alive, however. At least he had Lena. She would protect her other half against all comers. Such a good girl.

Your last son, Wilhelm… you hesitate to consider him. He is among the youngest, out of your entire family. However, he has the fire. The same one you had at his age, the same one your others seem to lack. His martial skills are peerless, so… Wilhelm the Strong? Wilhelm the Young Wolf? Might he channel that fire into something other than war, and make himself a name you don’t expect?

All these choices you have to make are grating. You love each child of yours equally, in great measure, and you would hate to hurt any of them, or see them hurt each other. But you also have to consider the lords of the realm, and the royal court, and… You grimace. That… Thing, as well. Hell, you’re half-tempted to pick Lena, or one of your many daughters, to spite the world, but no, no, you can’t base the future of your kingdom on a whim. Not after a lifetime of fighting for this peace.

A pointed cough from Hellman snaps you back to reality, and you jerk your head up at him. “Eh? Say that again?”

Your friend gives you a pained smile. “I said, I’ve been giving my horses Pzyczian apples, they seem to like them.” Leaning forward, he says, clearly worried, “Are you sure we need to do this right now, my King? I can always return, when your health has turned for the better.”

You scowl, but eventually, you assent, nodding. “Fine. If it worries you that much, Hell, I shall rest, and call upon the Druids.” Hellman begins to smile, relieved, and moves to clean up your wine. After a moment, you stand up, raising a single finger “After I do one thing.”

>”I need to see my other children. They’re likely to fret.”
>”I need to spend time alone. Not even you can follow me, Hell.”
>”I’ll write my choice down, in case anything… sudden happens, between the announcement and now.”
>”I’m sure I’ll think of something.” Write-in if you want to do anything not specified here.

>>4038020
>”I’ll write my choice down, in case anything… sudden happens, between the announcement and now.”

I'm expecting shenanigans any moment, it's a medieval fantasy setting.

>>4038020
>>”I’ll write my choice down, in case anything… sudden happens, between the announcement and now.”

the scheming nobles are probably rallying and jockeying around one of our sons with favours to get them chosen, maybe even plotting our death, we must choose someone nobody expects (lena or some other girl)

>>4038020
>”I’ll write my choice down, in case anything… sudden happens, between the announcement and now.”
Let's be rational.

>”I need to see my other children. They’re likely to fret.”

>>4038020
>>”I need to see my other children. They’re likely to fret.”
We need more information before we decide.

>>4038036
We can always write it down, visit our kids, and change it afterwards if we change our mind. I don't want to be jumped and get no choice in the succession at all the minute we walk out the door.

>>4038020
>”I’ll write my choice down, in case anything… sudden happens, between the announcement and now.”

>>4038020

>”I’ll write my choice down, in case anything… sudden happens, between the announcement and now.”

Split the lands among our children. Leave vague details and mild unevenness in the spread. Watch as they tear each other apart for the lands. The strongest will prevail and we will jumpstart a bloody and great legacy that will remembered for the centuries to come.

Writing.
>”I’ll write my choice down, in case anything… sudden happens, between the announcement and now.”

>>4038042
We are explicitly and specifically trying to avoid that.

>>4038042
This is probably what will happen anyway, so we might as well lean into it.

>>4038042
Ah yes, like that other famous conqueror who split his lands between his four sons with no clear succession in mind. I always wondered how that turned out.

>>4038020
“I’ll write my choice down, in case anything… sudden happens, between the announcement and now.” Some might call you paranoid, fearful, or overly wary. But who could blame you, given your past? You should’ve chosen an heir earlier, you know this, but the recent demonstration of your mortality has been compelling. Imagine, if after you die, your children turn on each other.

You’d haunt them all if they do. Klaus Alexandre II didn’t go through the hell of raising twenty-five children (with the help of your Consorts and attendants, of course,) for them to just rip each other apart after you leave them. Moving to your desk, you pull parchment from a nearby shelf, and begin to write, not even bothering to bite the nib of your quill. You don’t know what it is, but a frantic energy overtakes you, and you hurry through the formalities of the document. I, Klaus Alexandre the Second, Defender of the Realm and King of Hochland, blah blah blah, titles, titles, titles, assurance of legitimacy, and so forth. It only takes you a few short seconds to finish the dross of the document, you’ve written its like dozens of times before, when the succession of a duchy or earldom falls into question. Now, though, the document seems to weigh on you, every line of ink burning into your vision.

And then, the final line. ‘I, Klaus Alexandre I, name __________ as my rightful heir, and ruler of Hochland, and all lands within.’ Sighing raggedly with relief, you open the box within which you keep the Royal Seal, ready to finish the document.

And then, to your horror, find it gone.

Your vision grows white, and then red, finally settling on a burning fuschia, lining the corner of your sight. Immediately, you whirl on Hellman, grabbing a letter opener like a dagger, and pointing it at your best friend. “Did you take it?” Confusion.

“Take what?” You stare at not his face and eyes, but rather, his hands. He’s a decent enough liar, but he could never keep his hands from moving whenever he did. They’re still.

“The Seal.” Hellman freezes up, seeming as shocked as you are. His hands shift and clench, indicating that he’s confused as well as outraged.

“What?” He splutters, angry. “What cause would I have to steal your seal, Klaus?” He stands up, offended. Judging by how his nails are cutting into his skin, the anger is real. “Even if you weren’t my best friend, BROTHER even, I need nothing the Seal would give me!” Satisfied, you lower the letter opener, nodding in contrition.

(Cont.)

>>4038081
“I’m sorry, Hell, but I had to make sure. I know you didn’t, now.” Deflating, Hellman keeps up with the grimace.

“Well…” He huffs. “I’m still upset. I’ll expect two drinks from YOUR cellar, next time around.”

You manage to eke out a grin. “I didn’t expect anything less.” Then, a shadow falls over your face, anger returning. “Now. Let’s find the little shit who thinks he can steal from me.” Stabbing the letter opener into your desk, you stomp over to your cabinets’ door, slamming it open, startling the few servants, and Klaus, standing around outside.

Pointing towards your son, you say with a deadly chill, “Son. We have a rat problem.” Motioning for Hellman and Klaus to follow you, you talk and walk. “The Royal Seal is missing.” Klaus takes this information in stride, and nods. “We need to find the rat.”

What approach will you take? Pick two.
>Turn the entire castle over. You want your Volkjaeger searching EVERYWHERE.
>Put Albrecht in charge of the investigation, and have him keep the search discrete.
>Call the Circle together, for an emergency meeting. You need your greatest minds on this.
>Summon your Druids. Perform a divination. Trust in Erkirr, the god of Sight Beyond Sight.
>Summon your Druids. Perform a divination. Bargain with the spirits of the castle to find the thief.

>>4038082
>>Put Albrecht in charge of the investigation, and have him keep the search discrete.

We don't want to tip anyone off.

>Then have someone keep an eye on HIM discretely, just in case.

And I do mean ANYONE.

>>4038082
>>Turn the entire castle over. You want your Volkjaeger searching EVERYWHERE.
>>Summon your Druids. Perform a divination. Trust in Erkirr, the god of Sight Beyond Sight.

I knew it. none of them can be trusted

>>4038082
>Put Albrecht in charge of the investigation, and have him keep the search discrete.
>Have your own men keep an eye on Albrecht to ensure that he remains integrous

>>4038086
even erkirr cannot be trusted. he wants the crown for himself so he can become god-king

>>4038082
>Turn the entire castle over. You want your Volkjaeger searching EVERYWHERE.
>Summon your Druids. Perform a divination. Trust in Erkirr, the god of Sight Beyond Sight.

If any of our kids was going to have stolen it, it'd be Albrecht. Whoever stole it will already know it's stolen, obviously, and they'll also know that we'll be searching for it. A discrete search seems unnecessary. Am I overlooking something there? I feel as though I am.

>>4038082
>Put Albrecht in charge of the investigation, and have him keep the search discrete.

Giving power to our cunning second son in a matter of royal authority, right as a succession crisis looms. Yeah, this is a great idea, anons.

>>4038090
The thing you're missing is that they might know we're searching for it, but we don't want them to know how hard we are, or when or where we're officially moving on the search.

As an EXTREMELY simplified example, say you punch me and run off.

Yeah, you know I'm going to try and get you back for that, but you don't know HOW. Am I going to just punch you back? Maybe I'll find someone to punch you for me? Maybe I won't even punch you, I'll find some other way to mess with you. You're uncertain, which means you can't really plan for it- you might tip your hand if you try to skip town or something, but you can't just operate out and about anymore now can you?

Essentially, they know that yeah we'll be looking for it, but they won't know how, why, or with what strategy. We can play our cards close to the chest still. People aren't always obvious.

Also, don't be so quick to presume. You never know. I want to cover all my bases.

>>4038094
Trusting any of our sons is a mistake. But if we lock down the castle now we still have a chance to find the culprit because they probably did not expect us to find out the theft immediately. Anons can be very dumb.

>>4038094
And why don't you vote anon?

>>4038082
>Turn the entire castle over. You want your Volkjaeger searching EVERYWHERE.
>Summon your Druids. Perform a divination. Trust in Erkirr, the god of Sight Beyond Sight.
Just make them all co-kings, and let Hellman deal with the consequences. It's not like it'll affect our old ass any!

Thanks for the votes! I'm going to sleep now, but I'll be back in the afternoon, around 4 PM EST!

>>4038103
I hadn't decided which one to choose, just which one not to choose.

>>4038082
>Summon your Druids. Perform a divination. Trust in Erkirr, the god of Sight Beyond Sight.

Seems like our best option to find it without spreading the information around too much. If the druids wanted to take power from us, they'd find a method other than theft and political intrigue, so in this case I think we can trust them.

What I'd really like is if we had spies or informants loyal only to us, or maybe if Helman had one. I'm guessing that our intelligence apparatus, such as it is, will be headed by Albrecht, which means if he's plotting to take the throne from his older brother (he probably is), it's compromised.

>>4038098
They won't know why? Okay retard. And we're already telling them how we're searching for it if we don't openly search for it, or at least narrowing it down. But it doesn't matter because the idea doesn't feel as though it applies. Their current activities won't affect things unless they somehow haven't dumped it by the time an investigation is organised and begun, just where the seal is and if they were seen doing anything suspicious. If they try to change their plans while the search is underway, they have enormous balls and will probably get caught.

Honestly either way we're probably fucked. Albrecht, because it was almost certainly Albrecht who stole it, would be fucking /retarded/ to be hanging on to it. We're still alive. We know the seal was stolen. We'll be letting people know it was stolen. He can't use it. Its actual use is most likely to plant on someone. If it's Albrecht, the most obvious play is planting it on Klaus. Then he'll be the eldest eligible successor, since Klaus obviously feared for his succession and decided to steal it so we can't make a will and it'll default to him. Or something like that.

There's the possibility this is some huge double-triple reverse crossover backwards scheme that we'll never see coming. I guess that depends on how the QM is handling things. It looks like this is thread one, but that doesn't help us really. It could be the setup to a "take back your crown" quest with a simple Albrecht takeover (or maybe a "stop the crown from being retaken" quest if we play Albrecht?), it could be a complex plot we have to unravel, it could be a complex plot one of our sons has to unravel. In the first and last cases we're going to get outschemed and pass on MCship to one of our sons anyway, so nothing we do will really help. And the second case is highly unlikely, given that we're already super foreshadowed as dying soon. That would be a case where a quiet search is a bit better though. A loud, thorough investigation is going to get neutered by the greater degree of planning it'd mean. But that still doesn't get past the fact that Albrecht is the most likely candidate, arguably even more so for a more complicated scheme.

>>4038082
>>Summon your Druids. Perform a divination. Trust in Erkirr, the god of Sight Beyond Sight.

>>4038082
>Turn the entire castle over. You want your Volkjaeger searching EVERYWHERE.

A show of force is needed to keep everything together and remind them that you still hold power and YOU are the one who decides who'll inherit the kingdom. Albrecht being in or this or not is irrelevant, because simply handing this responsibility over to him will not bode well as it'll likely look like unofficially favoring him for the throne.

As for the Druids, fuck 'em. Gods and spirits are fickle and conniving shits, can never trust those bastards.

>>4038082
>>Turn the entire castle over. You want your Volkjaeger searching EVERYWHERE.
>Summon your Druids. Perform a divination. Trust in Erkirr, the god of Sight Beyond Sight.

5 votes for Volkjaeger.
3 votes for Albrecht.
None for the Circle.
6 votes for Erkirr.
None for the spirits.

>Summon your Druids. Perform a divination. Trust in Erkirr, the god of Sight Beyond Sight.
>Turn the entire castle over. You want your Volkjaeger searching EVERYWHERE.

Writing.

>>4038082
Turning to an attendant, you point towards him, and say, “Go to the Godshall, and bring them to my throne room. Tell them to prepare for a divination of Erkirr.” Sending him scuttling off, you continue on your way. After a few seconds of internal deliberation, you turn to Klaus. “I want my Volkjaeger turning this castle upside down. No one’s privacy will be respected, not even my own.” Your son nods grimly, and he hurries off, calling some nearby guards to his side.

Stomping your way to the throne room, you turn to Hell. “Did anyone come in my cabinet, after I collapsed?”

Your friend shakes his head. “I was gone for less than a half-hour, Klaus. While I carried you to your bedchambers with some nearby servants, the sundial had not even shifted a degree.” Pausing to let this sink in, he continues, “The only way this could have happened is if someone, during that time, knew exactly what they were looking for, and knew its exact position.”

Grumbling, you throw open the doors to your throne room, the footmen shocked by your sudden appearance, bowing hastily. You climb the steps to your throne, brushing off your castellan’s attempts to serve you. Instructing him to wait for the Druids by the door, as is custom, you take your seat upon the cold iron of the throne. Your suspects are fewer, now, but you still must search everywhere. Such objects have a habit of turning up when least expected.

You consider the possibilities. Your Circle and children included. It pains you to think it, but it’s not out of the realm of possibility, or even probability. You know, more than anyone alive, that the bonds of family are more tenuous than anyone pretends. And just because they owe you their prosperity, and life, in Khal’s case, doesn’t ensure their loyalty. Greed and avarice are alien to you, but you have seen enough among your peers to know that some people are ever-craving, regardless of what they already have. You shake your head, dispelling the thoughts. Your castellan is announcing something. Ah, the Druids. They’ve made it here rather quickly. Or you were lost in thought for longer than you remember.

Rushing up to your throne, the gaggle of spiritual leaders bows deeply, and you motion for them to rise. “I trust you know why I called you?”

The leader of this group of Druids nods, bowing again. “Yes, my lord, your servant is prepared to begin the ritual, at your word.”

Giving a grunt of affirmation, you look to the man, gangly and young, and say, “Then do so. Call Erkirr to this place.”

Pulling the robes of his sleeves back nervously, the head Druid unsheathes his flint knife on his hip, while the others surrounding him pull out holly branches, forming a ring. Setting the tips of the holly alight, they begin to chant softly, while the head Druid slowly draws the flint knife across his palm. With a grimace, the ritual begins.

(Cont.)

>>4039094
“O Erkirr, god of Truth
Slayer of lies
Holy Gift of the Mother
Bestow upon us the Sight
The piercing gaze that reveals all
So we might unearth those
Who wish to harm us
Show us the world of Truth”

The supporting Druids spin around the head Druid in a circle, holding the holly branches towards him. Holding his hands open wide, towards the sky, the gangly man breathes in deliberately, getting a lungful of holly smoke. His eyes remain open, unwavering throughout the entire ritual, staring up at the ceiling.

For a few brief seconds, his eyes flash a clear glass-blue color, and he takes a ragged, hitching breath, as he communes with the Gods. After a moment, it passes, and he sags, collapsing back into the waiting arms of another Druid. You wait for him to regain his bearings, but just as it seems that the Gods have seen fit to take another soul into their arms, he sputters back to action, coughing from the smoke. Shakily standing on his own, he bows to you, yet again. “Erkirr saw fit to gift me with Vision, my king. If you wish, I will share what he told me.”

You nod. “I didn’t summon you to call upon the Gods for nothing. Tell me.”

“In a far-off land, a sheepherder fell asleep. When he woke up, his crook was missing. He wailed, and cursed the gods, and railed against the heavens, for if he lost his crook, how would he defend his flock? His livelihood was ruined, and his sheep scattered to the winds. Out of all the gods, he cursed Erkirr the most, for if the Lord of Sight had simply opened his eyes, he would’ve found the crook. The god came to him in a dream, asking the sheepherder why he wailed, and cursed him.

‘Because you did not open my eyes, and thus, my flock ran from me!’ At this, Erkirr sighed.

‘You spent so much time crying into the heavens, that you did not look at your feet.’ And the sheepherder saw that his crook had been beside his bed of turf, all along. The god did not reap the toll of cursing the gods, but instead blessed the sheepherder with his divine wisdom. ‘Those that wail at the sky will miss that which lies underfoot. You shall forever be blessed, with the eyes to see both.’”

(Cont.)

>>4039096
The Druid falls silent, after this, and bows subserviently. “The vision ended there. I know not why Erkirr would send me one of his many parables, but I trust in his wisdom.” Sighing, you wave off the Druids, and slump back on your throne. This all but confirms it. It is someone you trust, someone close to you. Close enough for you to miss whatever suspicious act they might take. The obvious suspects are staring you in the face. Albrecht, your second son, and Johann, your Master of Intelligence, and unofficial head of the Circle. Unless… maybe you’re misinterpreting the God’s message? What might it be, other than this?

>No. It HAS to be one of them. If they aren’t responsible, they would have caught wind of it. Have the Volkjaeger search their quarters, and bring them before you.
>No. It HAS to be Albrecht. It’s uncanny, your second brother did something similar. History is a circle, as the Druids say. Though you had hoped to break the cycle of Echzan bloodshed.
>No. It HAS to be Johann. You raised Albrecht right, you can’t doubt yourself now. Besides, you never fully trusted Johann, given his eagerness to take the position.
>What else could it be? [Write-in]

>>4039100
>>No. It HAS to be one of them. If they aren’t responsible, they would have caught wind of it. Have the Volkjaeger search their quarters, and bring them before you.

>>4039100
>No. It HAS to be one of them. If they aren’t responsible, they would have caught wind of it. Have the Volkjaeger search their quarters, and bring them before you

>No. It HAS to be one of them. If they aren’t responsible, they would have caught wind of it. Have the Volkjaeger search their quarters, and bring them before you.

Writing.

For the record, I don't buy this. That makes me think less of 'it's someone close to you', and more 'try to think of a simpler, basic reason before you jump to conclusions'.

Right now, I don't think it's anyone in particular. Obviously that could and may change, but I personally feel like we're being too hasty. Like having misplaced a watch or a wallet and immediately assuming someone stole it.

>>4039100
No. You shake your head wearily. It HAS to be one of them. If they aren’t responsible, they would have caught wind of it. Theft of something as important as the Royal Seal deep into the protected wings of the castle is not something you carry out without conspirators. Or, at least, without an intimate knowledge of the layout. You call out to your servants. The Volkjaegers’ commander, Franz, will report to you. Bowing and scraping uneasily, the attendants leave the room, enacting your will. When they’re gone, you have plenty of time to focus on the situation at hand. However, you don’t particularly like the direction your thoughts turn to. The more you think, the more you’re reminded of the events leading up to the rebellion.

Fortunately, Franz arriving swiftly means you can focus on the now, if briefly. The armored man drops to one knee, bowing before the throne. “How might i serve His Majesty?”

Sighing, you grimace, but push on, knowing what you must do. “Franz. Bring me my son, Albrecht, and Master Johann. Send men to search their quarters.” Franz seems wary, but he nods.

“Might I ask My Lord why you need the Volkjaeger to do this?” You say nothing, but realization fills his eyes, regardless. “Ah. It’s related to the search, is it?” Standing up, Franz bows deeply. “I shall return with your son and your spymaster, My Lord.”

A simple nod, and a wave of your hand is enough to send him off, while you keep spiralling down that same old train of thought. What if history really is a circle, and your life has been one long Ourobouros? It’s enough to drive an old man mad, the thought of his children doing what your siblings did.

Ah… why did it have to be Albrecht? The boy was always so charming, with an easy smile, for his entire life. Yes, he liked to play tricks, and pranks on his siblings, but they were always harmless, fun little japes. No lasting damage or harm done. And Johann. Old Johann. Trusted, stoic Johann. The man was basically Albrecht’s polar opposite, and you doubt that he ever smiled. Entirely inscrutable, Johann was the perfect keeper of royal secrets, though he might’ve used his knowledge for ill, this time.
(Cont.)

>>4039526
A thought gives you pause, as you wait. Are you being paranoid? You could very well be jumping at shadows. But you didn’t get this far by ignoring possible threats. The loss of a king’s seal is too large to ignore. Shouting from the far end of the throne room brings you back to reality. Snapping your head up, you see your son, Albrecht, carried by his arms and frog-marched towards your throne, beside Johann, and… someone else? You don’t recognize him. Regardless, your son is shouting for your attention, now. Might as well oblige him.

“Father!” He tries to give a smile, but it sours as quickly as it appears. “What’s the meaning of this?” You say nothing, considering your response. “Your armored minions just tore me from my chambers. I request that you tell me what is happe-” You cut him off with a hand.

>”You stand as one of two suspects, dear son, for a theft. If you were the thief, confess, and don’t make this any harder than it has to be.
>”You know. Or you can guess. You’re a smart lad.”
>”I wish it wasn’t you. However, wishes belong to the gods, not men. I will see my Seal found.”
>Write-in.

>>4039529
>> "At the moment, you stand as one of two primary suspects, dear son, for a theft. Forgive my paranoia, but considering the past events, I felt it worthwhile to show no quarter in this particular search. I'd appreciate it if you cooperated, and ideally once found innocent, your rooms will be put back together with no lasting damage."

Seriously, let's not kill family relations on a hunch.

>>4039529
>>4039550

I can go with this. If he's innocent, it shouldn't be too offensive, and if he's guilty, it's better if he doesn't think we take the idea seriously.

>>4039529
>”You know. Or you can guess. You’re a smart lad.”

>>4039529
>>4039555
Supporting this idea

> "At the moment, you stand as one of two primary suspects, dear son, for a theft. Forgive my paranoia, but considering the past events, I felt it worthwhile to show no quarter in this particular search. I'd appreciate it if you cooperated, and ideally once found innocent, your rooms will be put back together with no lasting damage."

Writing.

>>4039529
>>4039550
+1

I'll be posting the next update tomorrow, slightly earlier than 4 PM EST. Sorry for the delay!

>>4039790
Well, looks like I'm a liar. But the post is most of the way done, and I'm racing to the finish line.

>>4039529
You lean forward, giving Albrecht a pained smile. "At the moment, you stand as one of two primary suspects, dear son, for a theft. Forgive my paranoia, but considering the past events, I felt it worthwhile to show no quarter in this particular search. I'd appreciate it if you cooperated, and ideally once found innocent, your rooms will be put back together with no lasting damage." Albrecht absorbs this, and stills himself. Standing up fully, and smoothing what he can reach of his tunic, he gives a weak smile.

“I’ll see what I can do.”

Johann and the other man remain silent, though for different reasons, you believe. Johann is busy studying the situation, almost as an outside observer, while the third party quakes in terror, quivering before you. Good to know that you haven’t lost your reputation. Leaning back on your throne, you look towards Franz, who stands at attention close by. “Report, Commander.”

Giving you a traditional iron-fisted salute across his chest, Franz nods. “As you wish, My Lord.” Motioning to Albrecht and the unknown, he begins to speak. “We found these two talking on the balcony near your sons’ quarters. His room was empty of any evidence, save for a single letter he appeared to be drafting to a…” Franz trails off, coughing awkwardly. “Paramour.” Albrecht smirks, but doesn’t say anything.

“Master Johann was busy in the Tower of Ravens, as usual, organizing his network. He complied, coming with us while we searched his room. We didn’t find anything, but... “ Franz shrugged. “It IS his duty to hide things such as these.”

Frowning, you ask, “Are you sure that the Volkjaeger searched thoroughly? They found absolutely nothing?” You were hoping as such, but to find absolutely nothing… It makes you suspicious.

Franz nods in the affirmative, and you scratch your beard in thought. Odd. “I’m having my men go over the rooms again, but so far, they seem to be clear of guilt.”

Grimacing, you stare down into your sons eyes, hoping to catch some clue in them, be it towards absolution or damnation. Unfortunately, you find neither. He betrays neither guilt nor outrage at injustice enacted upon him, instead, that same smile he’s worn ever since he became a man has returned. Never quite reaching his eyes, nor seeming entirely fake.
(Cont.)

>>4044846

Drumming your fingers on the armrest of your throne, you think on what to do next, while waiting for the Volkjaeger’s second search party to report back to Franz. You should question the three, yes, but who should you focus on? Were you to focus on Albrecht, you could not guarantee any useful information slipping, were he guilty, the same with Johann. And if you focused on Johann, the primary concern would be to actually get him to speak. The stoic man didn’t talk much, and even when reporting to you, he usually kept quiet, mostly.

The third man is a wildcard. He appears to be incredibly nervous, trembling within the grasp of the ironclad soldiers that flank him on each side. You’ve dealt with many a thespian in your day, and genuine, all-encompassing terror is hard to portray accurately. He could just be a very skilled actor, however, given the company he keeps. You stroke your long white beard for a minute, before asking, “Boy. Who are you?”

The young man in between the two leading sources of espionage in your castle shivers, and gulps. “Uh- I’m- Uh-” He seems to even forget his own name for the briefest of seconds. “Michel, My Lord, Michel Röbestock.” Ah, now you know him. The Röbestocks were a smaller, but still influential family of lords on the eastern border, near Pzyczia. While not large enough to be considered a duchy, lands controlled by the Röbestock clan were key to maintaining the border between Pzyczia and Hochland, and held the head of the toll road to Hohenwald from the border. This granted the family several privileges above their technical station, including a presence at the royal court, which Michel is currently. The youngest son, unskilled in either war or trade, both eminently important to the Röbestocks, was sent as a representative to get him out of the way.

So why was he speaking with your son, alone? Your suspicious nature starts rearing its ugly head, again. A third son, of a, while still important, minor family, speaking with a Prince? Their association isn’t commonplace or normal in the slightest.

You have several options in dealing with this. You could inquire as to the sequence of events, and hope he lets something slip. He seems like a nervous fellow, and you’re sure that you can catch something. The second option is just to press him, and press him hard. Turn him into a quivering wreck, it shouldn’t be too hard. If his resistance is broken, he should confess to something, if inadvertently.

>”Michel. What were you doing with my son? You must admit, your… acquaintance is suspicious.”
>”YOU STOLE IT, DIDN’T YOU? TELL ME WHERE IT IS! IF NOT, YOU WILL HANG AT DAWN!”
>Change your target to Johann. So far, you’ve focused on the two young men, and largely ignored him.
>Focus on Albrecht instead. You know him the best, or at least, you think you do.
>Say nothing. Until the Volkjaeger return, you have nothing to go off.
>Write-in.

>>4044848
>>”Michel. What were you doing with my son? You must admit, your… acquaintance is suspicious.”
>>”YOU STOLE IT, DIDN’T YOU? TELL ME WHERE IT IS! IF NOT, YOU WILL BURN AT DAWN!”

>>4044848
>”Michel. What were you doing with my son? You must admit, your… acquaintance is suspicious.”
>Change your target to Johann. So far, you’ve focused on the two young men, and largely ignored him.

>>4044848
>”YOU STOLE IT, DIDN’T YOU? TELL ME WHERE IT IS! IF NOT, YOU WILL HANG AT DAWN!”

>>4044848
>>4044865
Supporting

>>4044848
>>”Michel. What were you doing with my son? You must admit, your… acquaintance is suspicious.”

>>4044848
>> "Very well, then. Michel. What were you doing with my son? Such a thing is quite uncommon.”

Still trying to figure out why people want to go all Mad King with no substantial proof.

>>4044858
+1

>>4037873
Looks fun

>>4045206
Support

>>4045206
Same really. Curious.

>”Michel. What were you doing with my son? You must admit, your… acquaintance is suspicious.”

Writing.

Ded

>>4054581
I'm workin' on it

>>4044848
You prepare to rant and rage at the boy, to shatter his will, but you calm yourself, taking a deep breath. It would not be productive, you think, to be some mad king out of a saga at this very moment. “Very well, then. Michel. What were you doing with my son? You must admit, your… acquaintance is suspicious.” You motion vaguely between the two. “A third son of a minor house associating with a Prince? Such a thing is quite uncommon." Though not unheard of, you think.

The young Röbestock begins to stammer frantically. "I-I was just speaking with him by his request, My Lord. His Highness invited me to speak of my future in the court.” If he could, you would assume that the young man would be wringing his hands together.

Raising an eyebrow, you turn to your son. “Care to elaborate, Albrecht?”

He gives an easy smile in response. “You are well aware of the House Röbestock's turning fortunes, father, and the rumors of their elevation in status." Albrecht winks at you, then glances to Michel. "I thought it prudent to make friends with the scion of such a promising family!"

This is plausible. Albrecht’s cadre was sizeable, among the influential players in the court, though the energetic young men and old veterans flocked to your youngest son, Wilhelm, much to his chagrin. He most certainly wouldn’t pass up an opportunity to gain influence in that group. Still, you can’t help but feel that there’s something wrong with this whole situation. Something you’re missing.

(Cont.)

>>4058031
Johann speaks up quietly, his soft northerner accent reverberating throughout the room. “My Liege.” He averts his eyes downward, in a sign of deference. “I wish to tell you of something that might expedite this whole… Affair.” Albrecht snaps his eyes up, instantly alert, scanning Johann’s face for a hint of… something. You nod to Johann, motioning with your hand for him to continue.

“During the previous year, Albrecht got a hidden panel installed in his floorboards.” Albrecht’s face grows calm, and still, as Johann speaks. “Perhaps he hid the... item there?”

You frown. “Franz.” Your Master of War salutes you before you need to say anything more.

“Aye, My Lord.” He turns to some nearby Volkjaeger, and orders them to follow him, marching off into the Royal sections of the castle. You watch them go, drumming your fingers on your armrest. Johann’s information will likely be correct; however, there is the matter of his loyalty. Were he disloyal, he would have just deflected your attention towards your son. Quite masterfully at that. Well, there’s nothing to do about that, but to wait. You stare the three men down, gauging their reactions. Johann is impassive, as ever. You doubt that you could see through him, even if you tried. But years of loyal service has afforded him some manner of trust, on your part. Albrecht, surprisingly, is completely deadpan, and you raise a brow at this. “Is something wrong, my son?”

Albrecht gives you a bitter smirk by way of reply. “My privacy was not as private as it may have seemed.” He looks over at Johann scornfully. “Though it is not entirely unexpected, it’s still a bit raw.”

You stroke your beard, nodding. Understandable, if worrying. What would he need a secret cache for, in a castle where his quarters are guarded at all hours? You’ll find out soon, you suppose. Finally, you shift your attention to Michel, whose face is somehow even more pale and clammy, shivering nervously. He knows something. He almost certainly knows who stole the royal seal, or where it ended up, but telling you is out of the question. Either out of fear for your just reprisal, or simple cowardice. You’ll bring this to light, certainly. But not until the contents of Albrecht’s cache was revealed. One thing at a time.

Franz and the Volkjaeger return, after a protracted wait, and a palpable silence in the throne room, as every participant of this little mummers’ show sizes the other up. They carry several scrolls, a sheaf of paper, bound by twine, and… you sigh, disappointed, as Franz holds the last item up. A small golden signet ring, with a ruby bezel. The royal seal. Sighing, you stand up, and prepare to issue a proclamation, when none other than Michel Röbestock speaks up, voice quivering.

(Cont.)

>>4058034
“W-wait!” You raise an eyebrow, surprised by the gall that the young noble has, to speak without bidding in the presence of his king. To be honest, you’re impressed, you wouldn’t expect it of him.

One of the Volkjaeger moves to backhand him, but you hold up a hand, and say, “Peace.” Surprised, the ironclad soldier lowers his hand, and you say, “Let him continue.” What will he say?

Swallowing nervously, the young Röbestock collects himself, and says, “Albrecht did nothing, don’t let him-”

“Dammit, Michel! Don’t you dare!” Your second son’s voice, usually smooth and pleasant, growls forth, silencing the other noble for but a second, before he continues.

“I…” A deep breath, preparing for the worst. Ah. You see. “I was the one who took the seal.” Well then. Albrecht slumps over, defeated.

Processing this information, you frown down at the young noble. “Volkjaeger, release my son, and my Master of Intelligence.” As they do so, you walk down the steps to your throne, looking over the wiry, scraggly-faced man. He looks down, unable to meet your eye. “What could have possibly possessed you to do so? And how do I know that you are not covering Albrecht’s tracks?” Were it any other person, you would be more furious. As it stands, you’re more confused and curious.

“I did this entirely of my-” His breath hitches, as you come closer. “My own volition. S-so, don’t punish Albrecht for a crime he did not commit.” You consider this.

(Pick two.)
>”You are well aware of the punishment for high treason? Would you still confess so easily?”
>”Why? What could you possibly have to gain from this?”
>”Well, there we have it.” (To the Volkjaeger.) “Throw him in the dungeons, ready the headsman.”
>”You shouldn’t have known where the seal is. Who helped you? Were there any other conspirators?”
>(To Albrecht.) “Why are you covering for this thief?”
>Write-in.

>>4058036
>>”You shouldn’t have known where the seal is. Who helped you? Were there any other conspirators?”
>>(To Albrecht.) “Why are you covering for this thief?”

>>4058036
>Do all of the options

haha nah
>”You shouldn’t have known where the seal is. Who helped you? Were there any other conspirators?”
>(To Albrecht.) “Why are you covering for this thief?”

>>4058036
>”You shouldn’t have known where the seal is. Who helped you? Were there any other conspirators?”
>(To Albrecht.) “Why are you covering for this thief?”

>>4058036
>"That doesn't answer my questions. Give me a reason, boy. Before you give me one to call the headsman.
>”You shouldn’t have known where the seal is. Who helped you? Were there any other conspirators? Besides Albrecht that is."

>>4058044
>>4058046
>>4058070
>”You shouldn’t have known where the seal is. Who helped you? Were there any other conspirators?”
>(To Albrecht.) “Why are you covering for this thief?”

Writing.

>>4058109
You alive my man?

>>4063117
Yep, I'm working on the next post. I've just been pretty busy over the last week or so, and I haven't had a lot of time to sit down and really focus. Should have the post out within the next 24 hours, though.

>>4063134
Make it 2 hours my dudette

>>4058036
Leaning in, you frown. “That doesn't answer my questions. Give me a reason, boy. Before you give me yet another reason to call the headsman.” He blanches at this. ”You shouldn’t have known where the seal is. Who helped you? Were there any other conspirators?”

Still stammering, Michel blanches at the mention of the punishment for high treason. “I-I didn’t know where the seal was, n-no.” He fidgets, sweating nervously. “The man who t-told me of the seal wore a hood, and never spoke his name. I-I did see something, though!” He looks up, slightly hopeful that knowledge of his conspirator would buy him absolution. “H-he bore the woad, there were several markings upon his chin and neck.”

Hm. Woad tattoos, meant to bring the attention of the Gods. One god in particular, though, is most common, and he gives you pause. Korill, the god of Glorious War. Which means that this man was either a Druid, or a berserkir, the trance-warriors of legend. Corruption among the Druids of the court? What could they possibly have to gain from this subterfuge? Glancing over at the gaggle of Druids who now whisper among themselves, having come to the same conclusion, you find that not one of them bears the traditional blue tattoos upon their face, having instead changed to the more modern runes long ago.

Well, you can put that particular investigation off, if but for a little while. You have something more important to ask your son. “Son.” He looks up at you, dejected. “Why are you covering for this thief?” Albrecht seems to think on this for a second, looking between both Michel and you.

“Do you not find it curious, Father, that this… painted man would appear at such an inopportune time?” He expounds on this, gesturing towards Michel. “I believe that whomever this agent was, he was simply manipulating Michel to bring damage to my reputation.” You scratch your beard, considering this.

“You never answered my question, son. I don’t doubt that self-interest is part of it, but I need to know your reasoning to prove your complete innocence.”
Albrecht sighs. “I will admit it, then. I’ve grown fond of the lad, outside of a political sense, and I do not see much sense in letting my friend take the fall for some mysterious manipulator.” Michel looks down at this, equal parts ashamed at his own iniquity and appreciative of Albrecht’s support.

>”And I assume you have some idea of whom this man was?”
>”Be that as it may, my son, I still must levy a sentence against Michel. Pawn in some greater scheme or otherwise.”
>”Very well. I shall place you and Johann in charge of the investigation. Find out who instigated this treason.”
>”I present you with an ultimatum, son. Find out who manipulated Michel, and he shall be given a lighter punishment.” (The implication is clear, should he fail.)
>Write-in.

>>4064550
>”And I assume you have some idea of whom this man was?”
Then
>”I present you with an ultimatum, son. Find out who manipulated Michel, and he shall be given a lighter punishment.” (The implication is clear, should he fail.)

>>4064550
>"I notice you still hadn't answered my question. You may blame this strange man all you want but ultimately you agreed to betray your friend and the nation. So I ask again, why did you do it?

>>”I present you with an ultimatum, son. Find out who manipulated Michel, and he shall be given a lighter punishment.” (The implication is clear, should he fail.)

>>4064563
Supporting

>>4064550
>>”Be that as it may, my son, I still must levy a sentence against Michel. Pawn in some greater scheme or otherwise.”

>>4064563
>>4064610
>>4064718

>”And I assume you have some idea of whom this man was?”
>”I present you with an ultimatum, son. Find out who manipulated Michel, and he shall be given a lighter punishment.” (The implication is clear, should he fail.)
Writing.

>>4064550
You look at Albrecht. “And I assume you have some idea whom this man was?” He nods, hesitantly.

“I have some estimation as to who it might be.”

You pat him on the shoulder. “That’s a good start.” Albrecht looks up at you, surprised and somewhat wary of what you’ll say next. “I present you with an ultimatum, son. Find out who manipulated Michel in detail, and he shall be given a lighter punishment.” Staring into your sons’ eyes seriously, he understands the implication, should he fail. This time, the nod is instant, resolute.

“Yes, my Father. I shall begin at your earliest convenience.” He performs a slight, polite bow, unusual for him. He must be taking this extremely seriously.

Motioning to him and Johann, you dismiss them. “Begin your investigation, son, and be sure to coordinate your efforts with Johann. It would be folly to do otherwise.” Unless you feel he cannot be trusted, you think. As they exit the room, and begin to talk between themselves, flanked by Albrecht’s bodyguards, who had followed the procession of Volkjaeger as they brought him to the throne room, you move to Franz, and reclaim your signet ring, staring at the engraved ruby, as the torchlight sparkles across the wolf crest. Such a small thing to warrant such paranoia. When Johann and Albrecht finally leave the room, you walk over to Michel, putting the royal seal upon your finger.


“I notice you still haven’t answered my earlier question, Michel.” Michel, still held by the Volkjaeger on either side, jerks up, startled. “You may blame this strange man all you want, but ultimately, you agreed to betray your friend, and the nation.” Michel reddens, burning with shame at this chastisement, even though his eyes still show his terror. “So I ask once more, why did you do it?”

Michel takes a few seconds to respond, picking his words carefully. “I-” His breath hitches, caught between crying in shame and absolute terror. “I wanted to help Albrecht in some way. H-he’s been paying off my family’s debts to m-moneylenders in our lands, and I-” He takes a moment to breathe, tearing up. “I thought that he might be able to do something with it, he’s an intelligent man.”

“Hmf.” You think that Michel is being completely honest, but he still was complicit in the conspiracy. Looking the lad up and down, you turn away from him, heading towards a side door of the throne room. “Should my son save your life, I would ask you to take this lesson to heart- don’t trust strange cloaked men who offer opportunity, and do not steal from your Gods-begotten King.” You raise a hand, flicking it in the general direction behind you. “Take him to the dungeons.” And with that, you leave the throne room, heading deeper into the castle.

(Cont.)

>>4068597
Hellman approaches you, somewhat concerned, but you hold up a hand. “I am afraid that our prior engagement must be put on hold, friend. If you can, please wait in my Cabinet. I have something I must do.” And with that, you leave him behind in the hallway outside your throne room, followed by two Volkjaeger, whose chainmail and banded plate clink in the relative silence as you head down, down, down into the depths of your caste. By the door of the cellar, you motion for your guards to wait. “Let no one through.” Continuing to the end of the large larder, flanked on either side by wine casks, you press a loose stone into the wall. With a rumbling, a grinding, and kicking up dust, part of the wall shifts, moving to the right, allowing you to enter into musty staircase beyond.

Descending into the murky depths below the castle, you breathe the stale air, thinking on what you’re approaching. You haven’t been here in… a while. All seems to be in order, but it can get… tricky, depending on Her mood. After what feels like an eternity descending the stairs, you reach a large, cavernous chamber, lit by what seems to be a glow from nowhere. Roughly dome-like, surrounding a central point, upon which a man-sized dais sits, damp and craggy. Upon this dais, a single slate cube sits, weathered, but unbroken by time. It’s been like that as long as you can remember, old-looking but never suffering for it. You wish you could say the same for yourself, as your joints ache in the damp atmosphere.

Touching the dais, you hold your hand upon the stone cube, groaning as you feel one of your finger joints pop. You’re getting too old. Just in general. After a minute, something happens. The shadows in the room coalesce over the cube, swirling about you, eventually taking shape in the form of a large she-wolf that looms over you. The big canine’s eyes glow yellow, while everything else is black as night. It nuzzles you, and despite being formed of shadow, you feel a large nose, wet and cold, push up against your face.

It has been five years, and eighty days since you last visited my prison, Klaus. Why have you come? Her voice growls in the back of your mind, sending shivers running down your spine, even after all these years.

”O Wolf, spirit of Echzan, I have a request.”

A friendly, welcoming growl, now that She’s roused from her slumber. You know the price, more so than others. Continue.

>(Hold out your hand with the royal seal upon it closer to Wolf.) “Do you know the scent of he who stole this ring?”
>”Bestow upon me your knowledge of the woad, old dog.”
>”Be ready to act, upon my beck and call. We may have Berserkir on the loose.”
>”Gift me more life. I need but a bit longer to settle accounts.”

>>4068600
>>”Be ready to act, upon my beck and call. We may have Berserkir on the loose.”
What's the point of having a contract with a giant shadow wolf if we're not going to sicc her on some fucker.

>>4068600
>Bestow upon me your knowledge of the woad, old dog.”
I feel like the other options will get our hand bitten off/lose control of it/turn us into a werewolf.

>>4068670
To that extent OP, could you inform us of the potential cost of using the wolf?

>>4068679

From what Klaus remembers, the Wolf spirit has almost always demanded blood or flesh, depending on the enormity of the request. Doesn't have to be Klaus', but it's usually pound for pound. However, it's not definite, 100% all the time GIMME HUMAN SNACKLETS I WANNA MUNCH, it could ask for something else in return. Usually it will tell you the price after you make the request.

>>4068600
>>(Hold out your hand with the royal seal upon it closer to Wolf.) “Do you know the scent of he who stole this ring?”

>>4068600
>”Be ready to act, upon my beck and call. We may have Berserkir on the loose.”

File: Klaus.png (117 KB, 903x660)

117 KB PNG

>”Be ready to act, upon my beck and call. We may have Berserkir on the loose.”
Writing.

Also, thanks Ceg.

Before the quest goes off the board, I'm archiving this thread. The update will be in Thread 2. Sorry for taking so long on my updates, I know other QMs (and myself, earlier in the thread,) are faster.