>>4168846

>A former apprentice of mine came here shortly after finishing his training with me. I've decided to pay him a visit.

"Oh." It's a painfully dull answer. Looking in the guardswoman's eyes, you see resentment overshadowed by exhaustion. You're almost tempted to send her home, knowing how little use she and these other overworked guards would actually be at perceiving or holding back an assault by normal enemies intent on any sort of stealth, let alone undead. That, however, is not this old man's purview, so instead you give her some grandfatherly comment about how tired she looks, and down goes whatever caution she's got in reserve.

Ha! You didn't even have to specify what sort of trade your imaginary apprentice learned from you. Of course you would have said woodcarving, as it's one of the few skills outside of hunting and butchery you actually developed in your youth. Odds are it won't be relevant anyway, as you don't plan on staying here long. Dealing with Tepet Lagen ought to be a swiftly decided affair, however you do end up choosing to go about it. The real trouble will be finding Blue, while also dealing with the nervous state of the citizens, who should be fairly tense, expecting undead to come crawling out of the earth and down from the white skies.

You walk slowly along down the main street, forcing yourself to take your time and emulate the lopsided gait of an elderly gentleman, favouring the leg opposite your walking stick. As you go, glances into shops, kiosks and taverns give you a very different picture of the citizenry than you were expecting. They're going about their daily business with the varied temperaments you'd be readier to see from the populace of a place that... well, isn't facing an immediate threat to their lives. Very curious indeed.

You walk for a while longer, with no one paying you any particular attention. A shopper accidentally backs into you at one point, and it's a narrow thing when you fight down your instinctual response of punting his head off his shoulders. Instead, someone else admonishes the man for knocking into you, helps you straighten up, and asks if you're alright. Logic and reason tell you not to be offended by the question, but again, it's all you can do to not snarl that you are indeed fine. It's going to be one hell of an effort to keep up the agreeable old man facade.

The building you're moving towards has been in view since you could see the city itself. It rises a hundred meters into the sky, its walls a gleaming, polished white; vastly more decadent in design than Iron Reed's, whose castle was made for defensive purposes as well as architectural spectacle. You look from the satrap's place of residence to the cheaply built wooden buildings around you, and a picture begins to form in your head of what the relationship between Tepet Lagen and the people he governs might look like.

"An Ivory Tower, huh..."

>Talk to the citizenry.
>Infiltrate the Ivory Tower.
>[Write In]

>>4168847

Hey everyone, Helvegen here. Changing my tripcode because it doesn't seem to be working(?)

>>4168847
>Talk to the citizenry.
let's get info about the satrap
>>4168856
it's the 1st of april my dude, also glad to see you back from the eye of terror

>>4168847
>Talk to the citizenry.

>>4168847
>Talk to the citizenry.
Let's hear about him from the ground.

>>4168847
>Talk to the citizenry.

>>4168847
>Talk to the citizenry.

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55 KB JPG

>>4168864
>>4169596
>>4170016
>>4170391
>>4171058

>Talk to the citizenry

Casting one last glance at the rather on-the-nose edifice where the satrap must be living, you turn away and merge with the city life. Of course, Hoarfrost is nothing to the scale of Great Forks, but there is enough here to keep you exploring for several days. In the North, life is often harsh and austere, its denizens hardy folk who have had their share of hardship from the long winters that never truly abandon them. True to its name, though, Hoarfrost is not snowed in; the true northern winter is not here, and doesn't stay for as long as it does in the far North. It's chilly, not cold. There are plenty of people outside, perusing the windows of shops and exchanging pleasantries. You don't mind them; they're not going to be where you'll hear what you need to.

You walked past a number of taverns on your way along the main street, all of roughly equal prestige. At a guess, none of these establishments would be frequented by the satrap, who, judging by the splendour of his tower, will be drinking far better stuff than any of these alehouses can serve, so you probably won't need to worry about running into him and his retinue anywhere out here. Deciding upon going to The Winter Knight, whose sign is illustrated with a horseman wearing a grey tabard over blue-white plate armour, you hobble across the road and push open the door.

The ambience of the tavern is a warm, welcoming one, due in large part to the lights generously mounted around the walls. People converse at the tables, all seeming relaxed and easygoing enough. At a long table, a tall, well-built man tells a raucous tale that sends his numerous mess-mates into peals of laughter. He seems like they might be interesting to talk to later. For now, you settle down at the bar, your venerable age a signal in and of itself to the bartender not to keep you waiting long. You're careful not to give off any sign of impatience, keeping a smile on your wizened face as you wait to be attended. The young lady behind the counter is quick to come over and ask you what you want. "Mead," is your reply, "and a word, p'raps." If you were wearing a young man's skin, that might've led to a raised eyebrow, but she seems attentive as she pours you your drink.

>>4172998

"I was hoping, Miss, for a word with the satrap. I live up over in the foothills, you see; had a request that I thought he might grant, but I got a bit shy at the splendour and size of his, ah, tower, and came for a drink to calm my nerves before going to see him proper."

The barmaid snorts. The derisiveness of it catches you off-guard, and you almost show affront before you clue in that it's not you she's being derisive of. "Fat chance of that, grandpa," she says, sliding your mug across the bartop towards you. "A lucky thing you stopped short, else you might've been arrested."

"Arrested?" You are genuinely surprised by this. "Whatever for?"

She shrugs. "Disturbing the peace? Wasting the satrap's time? I'm sure the guards would come up with something. None of us get to see the satrap, let alone an outsider."

"Ah, I see." You look into the mug of mead, watching the thick liquid slosh around as you give it a gentle shake. "That sit well with you?"

"S'bin that way since he came here. Haven't been alive long enough to know what it were like before, but some of our elders say things've gone to the dogs."

"I see. The, ah, undead incursion must not be helping."

She gives you a weird look, and you know what she's going to ask before she asks it: "Undead incursion?"

Well, isn't [i]that[/i] interesting? An all-out siege of the risen dead would be impossible for a populace to miss, no matter how well-obfuscated by the local authorities. A scheme is afoot; the work of Tepet Lagen, you have no doubt. Great Forks has been sending relief funds and supplies to Cergarid, being unable to directly aid them due to the fraught situation with Lookshy; now you're fairly certain that the common folk never saw a single dinar of it.

The attacking ghosts are likely no more than an invention; at best, the reports have been greatly overstated. Lagen has been profiting off of them to gain additional income, putting the relief funds towards whatever purposes he sees fit. The people don't get to have audiences with him. They receive very little if any aid from him. He's doing just fine up here in his temperate corner of the world. Unfortunately for him and his cushy dynastic lifestyle, you are here now.

>Infiltrate the tower.
>Converse with the storytelling man.
>Search for Blue.
>[Write In]

>>4173001
>Infiltrate the tower.
time to serve vengeance a la france https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vjg6uv0q1i0

>>4173001
>Infiltrate the tower.

>>4173001
>Converse with the storytelling man.
We may have healed some, but we are still not 100%. Besides, the more information the better.

>>4173001
>>Converse with the storytelling man.

>>4173001
>Converse with the storytelling man.
We should wait till we're 100% healed. Any weakness could be fatal if Blue gets the drop on us.

>>4173001
>Converse with the storytelling man.

>>4173001
>Converse with the storytelling man.
When do we think we'll be fully healed?

>>4173281
>>4174317
>>4174456

The Exalted heal much faster than mortals. One level of bashing takes three hours to heal, while lethal and aggravated range from six hours to several days depending on their severity. Silver Raven is mostly healed due to having used Halting the Scarlet Flow, but he had to pace himself while healing in the mountains due to essence expenditure. When an Exalt spends a lot of essence quickly, their anima flares up like they're going Super Saiyan, and anyone for miles around can see or sense it. This is why he still isn't fully healed; using essence in Hoarfrost will make him a lot easier for Blue to detect

As an aside, I'm working on my last three exams while also trying to manage all the stats for Tim Quest. Updates will probably be slow until the 16th. That said, I'll try to finish the next update by tonight.

>>4179365
Dead?