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The Hawksong Royal Library—perhaps the most glorious and egalitarian house of learning an literature on all the surface world, sitting in a central space in humanity’s greatest metropolis! As late spring afternoon turns to evening, two dubious characters lurk in a corner of this vaunted palace of knowledge, surrounded by books most disturbing and guarded from the unimaginative rabble as they seek to unravel the secrets of making material the stuff of dreams.

The first is the black-clad young Lord Bianchi, a native of the city with a cold demeanor and a greedy gleam in his rye. Cross-referencing publicly-available literature with his meticulously-cultivated private collection of occult arcana. The bodyguards are his, a gift of status and privilege which he hopes to leverage into yet more wealth and power than his fortuitous birth has already bequeathed him. Through Eastern tulpa-theory and demonic ritual, he hopes to summon and bind a succubus this very evening, and to use its magic to materialize all that he dreams of from raw ectoplasm.

His companion, though he does not know it, is a far more sinister seductress and manipulator than anything he might summon this night… Or at least, you'd like to think so. YOU are his companion. To him, you are simply Ismena Rosgard, a fetching and curious young ingenue who has begun dabbling in the same field as he. In reality, you are so much more, and your goals stretch far beyond this ape-man's simplistic greed.
>>
>>4871016
You are an Infiltrator, half-human scion of a great and noble Reptilian master-race from deep inside the earth, here to subvert Bianchi's feeble mammalian society and to re-establish the Age of Scales. You serve the Grand Design of Dark Gods far beyond the ken of mere demons, guided by Serpent Priests far wiser and more powerful than any hairy little surface-scum could ever hope to be! In your time on the surface, you’ve:

>discovered a plot to use ancient dwarven magic and technology to reinforce the defences of Hawksong
>used your ‘dayjob’ as an exotic dancer at The Pretty Kitty to worm your way into hearts, pants, and purses in both the Engelson Storehosue Company and Zika Excavation Company
>begun to master illusion and persuasion magics, and the arts of diplomacy, seduction, and subterfuge
>thus manipulated the Hawksong Mages’ Tower and both aforementioned companies into an arrangement whereby those relics are stored in warehouses to which you (theoretically) have easy access

You have also:
>Undermined the publishing capabilities of Lord Isaac Yosef, an embittered old noble who knows of your people and their dark designs
>Framed your wererat adversaries for your own crimes
>Acquired a degree of prestige at your workplace
>Acquired a big-dicked, wealthy sugar daddy (though at the grave cost of catching some genuine feelings)
>Discovered an enjoyable party drug while entertaining a traveling company of Easterners and beastmen
>befriended a mysterious fox-woman who has agreed to teach you more potent illusion magic in exchange for joining in tonight’s ritual
>>
>>4871018
Along the way though, you’ve made your share of dangerous enemies in the city’s underbelly, including wererat gangsters and (most urgently) occultists with power and influence which stretches beyond the murders you and your Reptilian contact Roth organized for them. It is this last matter which brought you into alignment with Bianchi, though you remain skeptical of his methods and goals. Still, the summoning of a creature who can make desires and dreams manifest is too good to pass up, and the threat of leaving the vaguely-unhinged young nobleman to perform the ritual alone is too big a liability to allow.

So it is that, when he begins to pack up his papers and leave the library, you play the role of lovely assistant. So too do you dutifully follow him out…

But as he leads you out f the library, you cannot quite banish the memory of the dread dream which haunted your previous night’s sleep: a dark, bat-winged figure, wreathed in flame and surrounded by allies-turned-enemies, intoning darkly:

“Tonight.”
>>
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>>4871022
[LEVEL UP: You have become better still at dance, occultism, illusion, and merchantilism.

When facing a matter where success is not guaranteed or terribly likely, failure has notable consequences, and I’d feel railroad making you fail or cheap forcing a success, I will roll dice. Currently, that is 1d20 for most tasks. You get to roll 2d20 (taking the highest) for tasks involving: intimidation, swordsmanship, or matters of merchantilism. You roll 3d20 for matters related to dance, stealth, seduction or politesse, and arcane or occult studies. Where illusion is concerned, you roll 4d20. Combining aptitudes, such as seduction and politesse or emotion-affecting illusion, can secure you the coveted 5d20. This is based on choices you’ve made.

You also have an inherent bonus to disguise attempts when relevant, can use human magic items without your Reptilian race’s usual penalty, and you have a decreased difficulty to rolls wherein you fight an untrained opponent hand-to-hand due to martial arts training. As a general rule, DCs are 15, but disguise, magic item use, and favourable melees as discussed have DC 10, Rolls will be used somewhat sparingly.]

[ Previous volumes, for those of you just joining us, are at http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=reptoidqm ]
>>
>>4871030
As you emerge from the library, arms full of Bianchi’s tomes—borrowed, purchased, and illicitly acquired alike—you find a familiar face awaiting you outside… Or rather, an unfamiliar face, in familiar Eastern robes and conspicuously fox-like fur, smiling knowingly at you and your mammalian companion.

“Is it time?” the fox-woman asks.

“Sso it sseemss,” you reply.

You don’t even question how she found the two of you—it is the nature of her species to stalk, spy, and prey upon others. In this way, you are alike—it’s why you saw in her a potential mentor, albeit a biologically-inferior and expendable one. You make introductions, and Bianchi is immediately intellectually-smitten, peppering the poor Eastern beast-woman with questions about the nature of her magicks. She answers them in riddles and vagueries, as is her way. More’s the better: that prized knowledge is YOURS, not Lord Bianchi’s.

Eventually, the three of you—and the two bodgyguards who accompany you, but do they really count?—arrive at a surprisingly modern and brightly-lit manor. You somehow expected something more dilapidated and gloomy from Bianchi, given his personality and your previous housecalls to nobleborn Hawksong occultists. As you enter, though, you can tell by the old furnishings and possibly older housekeepers that this is a family of festering, antiquated blueblood wealth. There is no influx of initiative or capitol here—just the gradual stagnation of a family resting on laurels and spoils from more lucky or industrious ancestors.

Bianchi peers around and, seeing that the coast is clear—of parents? Guards? Imagined enemies?—he guides you and the fox-woman into a basement. Here, in what is clearly a wine-cellar repurposed into a research-chamber and decorated like some parody of a dark dungeon for demoniac dealings, you find a realm more hospitable to the Bianchi you have come to know.

What do you do?
>Eagerly enter into the ritual—there’s no time to waste!
>Take the fox-woman aside, to warn her of Bianchi’s proclivities and to discuss strategies for if the ritual goes awry [specify any specific contingencies]
>Practice your mindfulness rituals and fondle your homemade anti-demon charm, preparing to fend off mental and spiritual assault
>Mutter a prayer to the Dark Gods Beyond and Below, whose deeper shadows you know will gird you against demonic dickery
>Hover near an exit, so you can get out of dodge is this all goes sideways
>Write-in
>>
>>4871040
>Pray to the Dark Gods
>>
>>4871040
>>Practice your mindfulness rituals and fondle your homemade anti-demon charm, preparing to fend off mental and spiritual assault
>>
>>4871040
>Practice your mindfulness rituals and fondle your homemade anti-demon charm, preparing to fend off mental and spiritual assault
>Mutter a prayer to the Dark Gods Beyond and Below, whose deeper shadows you know will gird you against demonic dickery

The Gods help those who help themselves, after all.
>>
>>4871040
Welcome back QM!
>Take the fox-woman aside, to warn her of Bianchi’s proclivities and to discuss strategies for if the ritual goes awry [specify any specific contingencies]
Let's try to make extra sure that demon can't break free or possess anyone.
>Mutter a prayer to the Dark Gods Beyond and Below, whose deeper shadows you know will gird you against demonic dickery

>>4871030
Seeing those skills go up is soo satisfying each time. I think we should do more merchant work to build skill and connections at this point.
>>
>>4871040
>Hover near an exit, so you can get out of dodge is this all goes sideways
>>
>>4871831
>>4871585
>>4871455
>>4871412
>>4871348
A part of you wonders if that dream—with that strangely familiar booming voice—might have been a warning from your own Dark Gods. Well, one can hardly rely on the Gods to help a weakling. What reason to help a mortal worm, even a Reptilian one, if they lack the power and cunning to keep themselves out of trouble? And yet…

You recall the dream prior, of a great eyeball like a moon staring at you.

“Congratulations,” it had said. “The stars are right for you to live.”

You close your eyes and, whispering in your own sacred mother-tongue, you utter a quick prayer of gratitude and loyalty, and ask for their protection against the lesser shadows which swirl about you in this alien surface realm.

When you open your eyes, you immediately catch the blank stare of the fox-woman. Did she hear you? Did she understand what it meant? If so, she says nothing, merely turning away to watch Bianchi’s preparation.

The young lord is carefully drawing a vast circle, cursing each time that he must correct it for perfect roundness. The exercise of drawing a precise sigil is not something the rough-hewn cellar floor s terribly conducive to, but it seems that he finished the much more detailed internal lines well before coming to the library today, to better take his time and avoid the dangers which come with of a hurried symbol of binding and a deadly demonic entity. Even so, he steps on his own lines once or twice, eliciting a string of hushed profanity and a hasty correction. Eventually, though, it is done.

Bianchi steps into place beside yourself and he fox-woman, a dark smile of satisfaction and anticipation drawn tight across his face. You can practically smell the anxious energy under it.

“Are you ready?” he asks. You don’t answer; he’s truly asking himself.

Bianchi takes a book from among the pile stacked on drawers and tables around the room, and opens it to a page bookmarked for this very purpose. The crawl is in his own handwriting, taken or translated from other sources through the course of his research no doubt. So too does he take up a mortar and pestle and, reaching into it, removed a rough-ground plant dust to place upon his tongue.

“What—”

“Leaf of the shade-berry,” the fox-woman supplies. “A potent poison.”

“But in small doses,” Bianchi elaborates, eyes still closed, “an anaesthetic and so-called hallucinogen which can open veils of perception and bring one close to dreaming. Close to the veil.”

The human male’s breathing becomes more even than it previously was, and he opens his eyes half-lidded and begins to read. The language is alien, presumably to him as well and maybe even to the fox-woman. The pronunciation is as deliberate as yours when, in youth, you'd learned the common tongue of the northern surface-folk. It’s meaning is unknown to you, but for a few terms you've picked up while researching with Bianchi: ‘tulpa', and words you take to mean ‘dream’ and ‘desire’.
>>
>>4871871
As Bianchi speaks, the dim light of candles darkens yet further, and seems to bend in peculiar ways without flickering. It is as if each mote of fire and light is swirling inwards in a slow-moving but steady wind, being pulled round and round and inward to the center of the circle… Where a dark cloud begins to form. At first its borders are hazy, but bit by bit it becomes humanoid in shape… But with small horns raising from its head.

You repress a shudder, thinking of the Devil-Zivic, amalgam of your undead occult foe and whatever parasitic being of shadow and fire she pledged herself to cheat death. It, too, had horns. What seems to be forming in the circle, though, is very different in form: small, dainty of limb and curled of horn. It’s proportions are feminine, and far more human than the other demon you encountered…

But then, just as in your dream, bat-like wings unfurl.

What do you do?
>Interrupt the ritual—your dream was an omen after all!
>Let Bianchi continue—who knows what might happen if you interrupt his ritual now?
>Attempt to seize control of the ritual—a human cannot be trusted with something this important and dangerous
>Whisper with the fox-woman, getting her take on things
>Flee in terror—you shouldn’t be here!
>Write in
>>
>>4871873
>Whisper with the fox-woman, getting her take on things
>Attempt to seize control of the ritual—a human cannot be trusted with something this important and dangerous
Would prefer if we could do it diplomatically without turning Bianchi against us (convince him we should talk to the demon), but if that's not doable, then just seize control. We're superior of the bunch, after all. Even if that half-fox has more tricks up her sleeve.

Wrote that because it's unclear how this ritual is supposed to work. I (likely falsely) assumed that we will all make a pact with the demon since we're all a part of the ritual.
>>
>>4871873
>Flee in terror—you shouldn’t be here!
>>
>>4871951
OH BOYYYYYY, I'M +1'ING
>>
>>4871951
[Bianchi intimated a plan to summon and capture a succubus, and then to essentially blackmail or enslave it into bringing forth physical, ectoplasmic constructs of the wealth he dreams of, presumably for personal use or resale. There was no discussion of what you might get out of your assistance, though you and Bianchi may both well have your own silent assumptions.]
>>
>>4871951
Fuck it, I'm a gambling man. +1

I originally thought that letting Bianchi finish the ritual and take the heat would've been a good idea, but I'm ballsy enough to try our hand at it.
>>
>>4872212
>>4872000
>>4872235
Anons, I meant to try to find a good moment to cut in and just make sure that horny Bianchi doesn't fuck up. We should be in charge for our own safety, since Ismena is the only person in the room not crazy about demons and occultism.

Sorry, but I still can't stop worrying about Zivic and books told me not to fuck about with demonic pacts. That bitch is probably already looking to poke through the pentagram.
>>
>>4872243
That's fine as well. Paranoia when it come to the occult is healthy, especially if we have a real reason to be fearful. We can amend the vote to monitoring Bianchi and taking over when it's prudent.
>>
>>4872271
Yeah exactly.
I personally want to just make sure Bianchi doesn't endanger us and maybe get some small benefit from his own pacts, since we work together. Real treat for us here is the initial arcane guidance and all those hard-to-get/banned books.

I suggest we grab a meat snacc with him no shagging involved if the summoning goes well and ask to take a closer look on some of those spicier occult tomes.
Not sure if we ever wanna borrow any suspicious books, tho. Someone or something has located and broken into our own apartment already and in Engels' place someone might notice the book as well.
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>>4872296
A handy? We can read the choicest bit here if we want to.
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>>4872329
Fiine. And yeah, thought we could grab a book and spend an hour or two studying it before heading out.
Unless I got times confused and we still gotta go to TPK after. It's actually hard to keep up sometimes.
>>
For the record, (>>4871951) and (>>4872243) are my previous IDs.
>>
Rolled 5, 18, 17 = 40 (3d20)

>>4872443
>>4872408
>>4872329
>>4872296
>>4872271
>>4872243
>>4872235
>>4872212
>>4872000
>>4871984
>>4871951

Rolling to gently take the lead with politesse; post coming later.
>>
>>4872611
As the shape materializes and further realizes it’s fine details—texture, colouration, flashes of an amphibious-slimy red-black skin and gleaming gold-green eyes the colour of untold riches from its summoner psyche—you are unable to tear your eyes away. You feel in your core that to do so could be a fatal mistake. Still, you scoot closer to the fox-woman.

“What do you think of all thiss?” you hiss.

The fox-woman's bushy tail brushes against you, and she says nothing… Yet you can sense she is pleased. She, too, is focused on the summoned entity, but you sense no fear—just fascination and respect.

“Do you think he can handle it?” you ask her, nodding to Bianchi. His cheating has not ceased, rising in volume and intensity, picking up pace. It drowns out your conspiratorial whispers.

“His masculine energies are ample, typical of ambitious youth,” your beastwoman companion replies enigmatically.

“Which meansss…?”

The fox-woman meets your eyes with her own unmistakably sinister gaze. “He is easy prey. But you already know this.”

She's right, and that settles it. You step forward, lightly touching Bianchi's shoulder. Though less than lucid by dint of consuming his shade-berry leaves, he masters and offended glower.

“What is it, woman? Can you not see that I'm I the middle of—”

“I can ssee that you're already lossing control,” you say.

“I am not!” he blusters.

“Look at it,” you say, guiding his gaze back to the succubus. “The shape of it, the light in the eyesss… It iss already taking shape from your mind. Tailoring itsself to undermine you, specifically.”

“I have it under control,” he reiterates, harsh and defensive… But you rest a hand on his bicep and squeeze.

“Let me take the lead,” you say. “Tell me what to do. Filter your orders through me, and I will be an exxxtra layer of protection.”

Your touch and your appeal to Bainchi’s own self-interest does the trick—he acquiesces, and you step forward to fill the space… And meet the demon’s eyes. She—it—smiles, a flash of white amongst the smog of its half-formed emanation.

“What do I do?” you ask nervously.

“Tell the succubus our terms,” he says.

And so you do: “Demon, you have been ssummoned and contained by uss, for our purpossess.”

“Summoned,” it acknowledges in a voice which you feel vibrate through your skull, “but not contained.”
>>
>>4872672
The black smoke, which has thus far writhed and swirled no further than the outermost chalk circle, now begins to waft beyond. Bianchi and the fox-woman both cover their mouths; you follow suit.

“Speak the name!” Banchi says urgently.

“What name?!” you demand, stepping backwards.

You stumble into Bianchi, who take you in his arms, places the book before you, and taps repeatedly on the leathery parchment. The sigils are unfamiliar to you or… Wait. No! You recognize the phonemes of the obscure language from your time studying with Edwin.

“Irinnile!” you say, stammering only slightly, and grateful for the lack of ‘s’ sounds.

The smoke flinches away like a slug from salt, curling around the winged demon like a cloak. Irinnile huffs haughtily.

You breathe a sigh of relief, feeling the mental pressure of the demon’s psychic influence and the stress of the danger lift simultaneously.

“Now what?” you ask the others.

The next stage is the reiteration of the simple terms of Irinnile’s release: that it will follow your commands, as the one who spoke its name and bound it. It agrees with a scowl, an eye roll, and a shrug. However, when Bianchi has you relay what it is he wants—for Irinnile to enter his sleeping unconscious and summon forth into the material plane that which he dreams into being—its audible giggle floods your mind. The sensation and implications are… Unsettling.

“Agreed,” Irinnile relies. “My, it is good that you brought these beautiful women to assist you. How can you monitor me and let yourself fall into so restive a state at once?”

“I’ll not speak plainly my plans and give away the game,” Lord Bianchi says stiffly.

“Keeping future mthods to yourself? Do you plan to call upon my ‘services’ again in the future, master?’ Irinnile asks, posing saucily. Bianchi scoffs, and turns away.

“I’ll take more of the shade-berry leaf,” he tells the two of you. “Fox, watch my body carefully. Miss Rosgard, supervise the demon, and free her only when I regain consciousness.”

It seems you truly ARE in charge now. Before long, your host is sleeping, cross-legged on the floor but eyes shut. It is mere moments before REM sleep settles in.

The fox-woman looks to you expectantly… But not nearly as expectantly as the demon.

“Now that the troublesome human is out of our way, what do you REALLY want?” it asks.

“I was wondering as well,” the fox-woman says.

What do you do?
>Command Irinnile to do as Bainchi desired: to enter his mind and extract his dreams as physical forms
>Ask Irinnile what it is that it offers
>Ask the fox-woman what she would do, in your position
>Ask the demon for information of the Devil-Zivic
>Make a specific request of the demon [what?]
>Banish the demon—it’s too dangerous, and now you can pretend it was to save Bianchi from a threat
>Write-in
>>
>>4872676
>Ask Irinnile what it is that it offers
>Ask the fox-woman what she would do, in your position

I'm curious.

>Ask the demon for information of the Devil-Zivic

For that one worried anon. Lovely eyes btw.
>>
>>4872676
>Ask Irinnile what it is that it offers
>Ask the demon for information of the Devil-Zivic
>>
>>4872676
>Banish the demon—it’s too dangerous, and now you can pretend it was to save Bianchi from a threat
Not today, Satan.
>>
>>4872676
>Command Irinnile to do as Bainchi desired: to enter his mind and extract his dreams as physical forms
We change patch fucking thing tho. Irinnile is not to force any visions on Bianchi when he's sleeping and not to summon EVERYTHING Bianchi will dream about. Only... harmless women? Whatever he intended to get, without malicious traits or hidden powers.
Also make sure this pact EXPIRES after a week or whenever we decide to make it expire earlier, WITHOUT a ritual (preferably just a spell, without sss). It will mean that demon will no longer summon anything and be banished back to its fiery nest, safely cut ties.

What we want here is not using demonic powers and having a way out in case something goes awry.
We don't even know if that information about Zivic would be genuine.
>>
>>4872944
>We don't even know if that information about Zivic would be genuine.

While true, it's better than nothing. Plus, I wanna hear what this demoness will offer us (and what fox lady stands to gain from this as well, but I guess anons aren't interested in her motivations). We can still get Bainchi's goals after this (even without the fuckery [maybe a tiny bit harmless fuckery]), and I do think this demoness may be cool with us if we give her a chance.
>>
>>4872957
The reason why I don't wanna ask is because it will also count as a favor from demon. There is no casual conversation here, just pacts.
If you really wanna get information about Zivic then make sure you tell the demon to tell the truth.

Sorry, but there are no cool demons and succubuses are more than eyecandy. It's a deadly horned piece of shit that already nearly broke out because that faggot forgot to say its name.
Please consider taking this seriously, cause I really don't wanna have to fix TWO demon problems just because we didn't stay properly cautious the one time we have to.
>>
>>4872965
I will, but I'm also taking the dream seriously. The demon stopped the wererats from attacking us, and if the dream was from the Dark Gods, she maybe useful to us. We should be cautious regardless though, I do agree.
>>
>>4872975
Ah yeah, I did not understand that dream at all. Not gonna try to interpret it by only understanding a fraction of what happened there.
>>
>no shagging involved
>>A handy?
>Fiine.
kek

>>4872676
>Ask the fox-woman what she would do, in your position
Just for fucks and giggles, then, regardless, as a middle finger to that beast hoe,
>Command Irinnile to do as Bianchi desired: to enter his mind and extract his dreams as physical forms
haha dream demon go brrrrrr


>restive means the opposite of what I thought it would mean
thank you dictionary and bigbrain QM for expanding my vocab
and
based quest is based
>>
>>4872965
>Please consider taking this seriously, cause I really don't wanna have to fix TWO demon problems
Wouldn't you be on the side of an immediate banishment and bonus good-girl points option, then?
>>
>>4872984
>kek
you're more than welcome to vote against the handy lmao
>middle finger to that beast hoe
I don't like her either, but let's not try to piss her off just yet cause she's a better mage. For all we know she could blast our ass so hard that the Grand Design falls on our fucking head.

>>4872989
>Wouldn't you be on the side of an immediate banishment
Right now we would just antagonize Bianchi and lose access to his books. Then he would try again without us, but with fox woman who's clearly just waiting to stab him in the ass and potentially become Zivic 2.0.
The reason why we're here in the first place is to not have another demon on the loose OR let Bianchi grow too much in power if he survived and benefitted from these encounters.
>bonus good-girl points
There are no good girl points. All that matters is sorcery, succ, securing company stonks and Grand Design.
>>
>>4872697
>>4872725
>>4872920
>>4872944
>>4872984

A small sliver of your soul is still screaming to banish to demon, just as a part of you sought to run… But you recognize this as a small, mammalian part of yourself. You stymie it, and consider your options.

The most cautious play would be to let Bianchi do as he wants, and to merely facilitate this exercise in such a way that nobody else becomes a demonically-powered thorn in your side later. However, you can hardly deny that this is an opportunity. What if that enigmatic dream during last night’s torpor wasn’t a warning ABOUT the succubus, but a warning about wererats and traitors from whom you can only be saved BY the succubus?

And what about Zivic, or Tokunbo, or whatever is left of them? The former, at least, you have no doubt yet lingers beyond Bianchi’s ‘veil’… With wererat agents, and maybe others, who have raided your apartment at least once.

>Ask the fox-woman what she would do, in your position
>Ask Irinnile what it is that it offers

The fox-woman taps her chin demurely, humming quietly to herself.

“In my youth, I would have slain the man,” she nods to Bainchi’s sleeping form, “and after having consumed his heart, I would have taken the power of the succubus for myself. Now, practicing virtuous self restraint, I would do only the last part.”

“Ooo, now that’s an idea!” Irinnile says from its prison. “Yes, why not take me into yourself? Imagine what you could do?”

“Of course,” the fox-woman continues, “I would do this because my mind and soul are refined in ways yours are not, yet. You wishes for me to teach you greater mastery of perception and emotion, yes? Illusion, disguise? I could do so better with the succubus’ power.”

The idea of empowering what could become yet another occult adversary rankles you, and the fox-woman can clearly tell.

“Otherwise, I would probably do as this man clearly planned to do without us,” the fox-woman continues. “See that incense-holder on the opposite side of the circle?

Indeed, you do: small, dark, porcelain, and with an ornate cap resembling a twirled and curving branch with several small leaves and branches.

“My suspicion is that, without an assistant to manage the process, the man was to trap the demon inside that, to bind it with another spell—I have such knowledge in my repertoire, incidentally—and then to force it to perform the tricks and tasks he asked of it.”

You’ve read demonological tales in the Royal library like this…

“Like a genie in a bottle? A homunculuss in a flask?” you ask.

The fox-woman nods, even as the demon pouts again and crosses its arms.

“The fox-woman just thinks you’re weak and stupid,” Irinnile whines. “If you’re going to keep me anywhere, at least keep me somewhere fun, like in a body or a sex-toy or something! What did I ever do to you?”

“The quesstion iss what you can do FOR me, IRINNILE,” you say, causing the succubus to flinch at its true name.
>>
>>4873233

>Ask the demon for information of the Devil-Zivic
“There has been activity around the thin places in this area of your realm,” the succubus muses. “Maybe if you let me go, I’ll—”

“I command you, Irinnile, to tell me all you know of the demon who made the pact with Lady Zivic of Hawkssong!”

“So unfaaaaiir,” the succubus complains. “Fine. I only know that there is a demon amassing pacts with useful idiots in the physical realm around here. A lot of them are petty little pacts to perform a single task for a single benefit, but those can sometimes spiral into taking a whole soul… Or, for one mortal in particular, probably your ‘Lady Zivic’, a full-on agreement to see her grand plan through in exchange for complete ownership of her and all that she achieves or acquires for herself in the process.”

“What goal iss he helping Zivic towards?” you ask.

Irinnile gives you a profoundly over-acted shrug of ignorance and indifference.

“Want me to find out for you?” the demon asks sweetly. “I could do that…”
>>
>>4873235
>Command Irinnile to do as Bainchi desired: to enter his mind and extract his dreams as physical forms
You decide that before you start dabbling in demon-deals yourself, a demonstration of Irinnile’s actual capability is required… On your terms, not Bianchi’s.

“Do ass Lord Bainchi desired,” you command the demon. “Enter hiss dreams… BUT, do not to force any visions on. Do not to summon EVERYTHING Bianchi dreamss of, either. If he wantss... Harmlessss women? Gold or jewels? Whatever he intended to get, wdon NOT add any maliciouss traitss or hidden powerss.”

“You’re a clever one,” Irinnile compliments. “That would have been a really good idea. I wish I’d thought of it!”

“Alsso, make sure thiss pact EXXXPIRESS after a week, if I do not renew it.”

“Well, that’s really up to the young master, isn’t it?” Irinnile muses. “Or the fox you brought. Or anyone who knows how to summon me and knows my name…”

You’ll cross that bridge when you come to it, you decide. Standing—or hovering in a standing position, Irnnile bows low to you, and then explodes into mist and, as you commanded, enters Bainchi’s dreams. Specifically, her smoke swirls round and round, then forms itself into a funnel-cloud which hovers over Bianchi’s head.

“Now that you’ve commanded the demon thus, you must bind it to a host, free it, or banish it,” the fox-woman explains calmly. “The summoning is for a single task.”

Well THAT’S a complication. You’ll have o think fast. Banchi’s eyes open, his eyes roll back in his head, and already a sickly-looking black tar—like that same miasma which makes up Irinnile, in liquid form, is oozing up and out of his mouth into a shape. Gradually, it takes on form, lustre, texture, dimensions, until it is clearly some form of kingly sceptre of office, encrusted in gemstones.

Even as this staff manifests so too is the cloud above his head beginning to grow and expand, and to form itself into a familiar, bat-winged, goat-horned demonic shape..

What do you do?
>Bind the demon to your own body—with the grace of the Dark Gods, your own knowledge and willpower, and your charm, you will master its powers and add them to your own!
>Bind the demon to the fox-woman, so she will teach you magic and so the risk does not fall on your own mind, body, and soul
>Bind the demon to the incense-container, and trust that you can manage it later [specify if you keep it for yourself, give it to Bianchi, or give it to the fox-woman]
>Banish the demon before this goes any further—Irinnile is a dangerous being, and you have no need of its favours, knowledge, or abilities
>Let Irinnile free—who knows what good could come from a demon in your debt?
>Write-in
>>
>>4873236
>Bind the demon to your own body—with the grace of the Dark Gods, your own knowledge and willpower, and your charm, you will master its powers and add them to your own!

warlock multiclass is a go
>>
>>4873236
>>Bind the demon to the incense-container, and trust that you can manage it later [specify if you keep it for yourself, give it to Bianchi, or give it to the fox-woman]
>>
>>4873236
>Bind the demon to the incense-container, and trust that you can manage it later [Bianchi]
Fuck this shit. Now that we know what Zivic's demon is, we can prepare ourselves, but dealing with that heart-eating clown fox was a mistake and Bianchi is a lot of nuisance to put up with for a few books.

Pic kinda related.
How bad/good are we doing, QM?
>>
>>4873284
[It's always been my philosophy that one shouldn't take a DM qt their qord about future events, or tge scale of threats unknown. You didn't get brainwashed by a succubus but, because of choices you've thus far made, you haven't had to roll against that. Perhaps you never will.]
>>
>>4873397
>take a DM qt their qord
Sorry, but I have no idea what that means.
Didn't try to metagame info out of you, was just looking for thumbs up or thumbs down.
>>
>>4873489
*DM at their word

[I am history's worst texter. All I'll say is that I enjoy how the adventure is progressing, and that you are not (to my mind) making any silly errors.]
>>
>>4873554
Thanks! Glad to hear that you like it as well.
On the topic of letters, could you explain why some of your in-quest books/texts have letters replaced? Stuff like "Famouf Laft Ftandf", for example. I assumed it's a stylish thing but not sure.
>>
>>4873236
Freeing the demon appeals to me on an emotional level, but would only lead to chaos around us, and that just isn't want we need right now. Binding it to us also appeals to me on an emotional level, but doing so unprepared is foolish, as the fox-lady is right in that we're unrefined. The incense-container is a smart play, but only if we can keep it safe, and I don't trust Bianchi not to fuck up with this demon, so it'll have to come with us.

I am a gambling man at heart, and the stars said we were right to live.

>Bind the demon to your own body—with the grace of the Dark Gods, your own knowledge and willpower, and your charm, you will master its powers and add them to your own!
>>
>>4873582
[As with the archaic "long s" of Old English, the northern Common Tongue's oldest and more academic texts use letters which vary from its contemporary version. It's probably not the S, necessarily, but it seemed the best cultural translation. When you see an S written as an F, you're probably looking at an older text or one written by an aged academic who does little informal writing.]
>>
>>4873613
Yeah that's what I thought exactly, just didn't know the origin and never really saw it used before.

>>4873600
You are gambling with our future tho, why not just put the bitch in cum jar and call it a night? I'm sure the faggot isn't THAT stupid, he researched the topic and prepared ritual, after all. The mistakes were minimal for his first summoning.
My "emotional level" choice was also to let that hoe loose and forget this situation ever took place. Then I rethought our position and realized the chaos that would ensue and repercussions.
I don't mind doing crazy shit generally, but this is a quest where QM takes our choices pretty seriously. That part when Tokunbo, Zivic and werefucks worked together and we were in unknown with danger lurking everywhere is something I never wanna have to deal with again. Plus more and more tasks are piling up, micromanaging this demon on top of trading/learning/working/socializing/spying is gonna be hell.
>>
>>4873236
>Let Irinnile free—who knows what good could come from a demon in your debt?
>>
>>4873658
>That part when Tokunbo, Zivic and werefucks worked together and we were in unknown with danger lurking everywhere is something I never wanna have to deal with again.

Actually, that's the part of the reason why I want to bind the demon to us. Not only would it be a general power up for us, but a secret trump card should we ever get into a pickle. Given the dream, the demon will at least give our enemies pause to attack us, and hence why I would prefer to have her around us. Is it risky? Yea, but a knowning risk. Plus, we don't need to micromanage, but come to an understanding- she helps us earnestly without tricks or wordplay, and she can have her fun every now and then with a occasional (wererat) soul on the side. Plus, we honestly need some help in delegating/managing our tasks, so we do need a couple helpers.

That being said, I understand your reservations with dealing with demons, so if you wish I'm willing to change my vote to break the tie and bind her to the incense-container, but only on the provision that we take it. I wouldn't mind storing it at Bianchi but for the fact that he may deal with the demon without us there and that the dream indicates that we may have cause to us her against our enemies.

We also have a rouge demon making pacts in Hawksong as well, so that's just another thing to add to our plate.
>>
>>4873736
>I'm willing to change my vote to break the tie and bind her to the incense-container, but only on the provision that we take it.
Sure, let's take the container then. We must hide it somewhere good, though.

>Actually, that's the part of the reason why I want to bind the demon to us. Not only would it be a general power up for us, but a secret trump card should we ever get into a pickle.
I don't think we need that demon at all. Instead we should actively work to prevent more shady situations from getting out of hand and train ourselves.
We levelled up illusion TWICE since then, which gives us a total of 4d20 to pass the DC - already a big boost.
We should weaponize these utilitarian magic skills by learning how to effectively cause confusion, make blinding flash of light and eventually (if possible) fully disguise ourselves as someone else. These can be done either by practice or reading more books, so we can pick whichever fits the schedule. We'll still need some dagger training, though. I think it can be done with Roth whenever we visit him.
Finally we gotta use our human contacts to the maximum and become a better team with the aforementioned tooth collector. He has proven himself to be a worthy fighter, but maybe we can boost his combat abilities with better equipment or something?
>>
>>4873236
I'm modifying my vote (>>4873284) to:
>Bind the demon to the incense-container, and trust that you can manage it later [keep it]

Since the pink anon (>>4873736) said he would agree on it.
>>
>>4873236
QM, I'm changing my vote from >>4873600 to

>Bind the demon to the incense-container, and trust that you can manage it later [Keep it for ourselves]

>>4873863
I think a power up would put us in a better position when shit turns tits up, and while I believe we can minimize our chances of shady situations getting out of control, I don't think we can eliminate the risk entirely. We may not need the demon, but we're going to need something up our sleeves in case we get into a situation that we can't illusion ourselves out of, it's only prudent.

I do approve of playing with Roth's dagger and training our fighting abilities ;^)
>>
Rolled 19, 12, 3 = 34 (3d20)

>>4873952
>>4873927
>>4873863
>>4873736
>>4873663
>>4873284
>>4873278
>>4873259
[Consensus seems to be that this 3d20 will be put towards a ritual to bind a demon in a bottle, for your own safe-keeping!]
>>
>>4874132
The dark cloud is taking form quickly—too quickly for you to weigh the possibilities and risks of accepting the demonic power of the succubus for yourself. What you DO know is you don't want it falling into anyone else's hands, certainly not for their use without your supervision.

You flip rapidly through the book, looking for a recognizable symbol or passage. Credit where it's due to your unconscious ‘tutor': you find it! A sigil catches your eye, a symbol of union. Key phrases on the page clue you in to the rest of the contents, which relate to the demarcation of boundaries. You sound our the arcane text and begin to chant. Bianchi convulsed and falls backwards, curling in on himself as the scepter wobble and spins erratically in the air before him. Irinnile shrieks, an unearthly sound, and its feminine curvature takes on jagged edges and prickly spikes as it thrashes in midair. The fox-woman, never moving or flinching save for her shifting tail, watches.

You can tell that the demon is bound by your words and will, but you cannot make heads or rails of how to direct it’s twisting, half-formed shape into the incense container. Here, the fox-woman finally comes to your aid: she slides into place behind you and rests hands on your forearms, guiding your hands in mystic gestures which seem to guide the smog of Irinnile's collapsing physicality into the circle once more.

“YOU LIAR,” you hear Irinnile protest, rattling the inside of your braincase like a localized earthquake of perception. “THIS WASN’T THE DEAL!”

The fox-woman rubs your temples, strokes you check, and speaks soothing words in an alien Eastern tongue. You are able to calm yourself enough to keep reciting the passage.

“Move onto the text at the bottom of the page,” she whispers into your ear, with a subtle command that makes you shiver for not entirely wholesome reasons, “and speak the succubus’ name at the end. Make it last—you cannot repeat this one, and the container must be open before you speak the name, and closed before you finish it.”

She releases you when the calm has set in, and steps back. You follow the edge of the circle, meeting the burning, furious gaze of your otherworldly captive each step of the way, and reciting the final passage of the page at a steady even pace. You begin to feel more confident in the power, seeing that Irinnile’s swirling essence is unable to breach the circle, her eyes just as unable to leave yours . You are master now. YOU are in control here. Just as you match Laskar’s rhythm on stage, your footfalls and your lilt now find their match in each other, bringing you perfectly into place before the incense-container at the same time you speak the succubus’ name one last time:
>>
>>4874217
“…Irinnile.”

You pop the cap open, and at surprising speed the until-now discrete smoke swirls into a solid funnel of shadow and is sucked into the container as if being spilled forth in reverse. It is a surreal sight, but you are not so distracted that you forget to seal it shut the instant Irinnile is within, trapping the demon in the small vessel held in your by-now steady ahnds.

At the same time, Bianchi begins to regain his consciousness and composure, crawling along the ground to haul himself up by one of his bookcases. He looks to the two of you, and down at the sceptre on the floor, which he instantly pulls toward himself with one foot and then takes in trembling grasp.

“It… It worked,” he wheezes.

“And that was all you desired of this night/” the fox-woman asks him, voice neutral of toe but disappointed by implication.

“Not all, no,” he says quietly. “Where is the succubus?”

The fox-woman says nothing nor does she look to you. You still hold the incense-container, but you tuck it swiftly into a pouch of your backpack. Bianchi, clearly fatigued by the dark magic which extracted his curious dream made real, is in no state to notice the absence of the item, though he no doubt will in time.

What do you do?
>Attempt to persuade Bianchi that it is in his best interest to keep the demon in your possession
>Be frank: you don't trust the otehrs, and you're keeping her
>Tell him that Irinnile grew too dangerous, and needed to be banished and destroyed
>Pin the blame on the fox-woman
>Change the subject to distract Bianchi [the sceptre? Snacks and/or drinks to celebrate? Other?]
>Write-in
>>
>>4874221
>Tell him that Irinnile grew too dangerous, and needed to be banished and destroyed

it's cool though we can always summon another one
>>
>>4874221
>Tell him that Irinnile grew too dangerous, and needed to be banished and destroyed

Destroyed the incense-container when we tried to trap it. You're lucky we were here to help mate.

>Change the subject to distract Bianchi [the sceptre and what else he wanted, celebrate with wine]

That'll shut his trap, and with any luck the wine will help him pass out, what with the drugs and exhaustion setting in. Can't wait to talk to fox-sempai and 'thank' her for her assistance, if you catch my dift.
>>
>>4874221
>Be frank: you don't trust the otehrs, and you're keeping her
>>
>>4874221
>Tell him that Irinnile grew too dangerous, and needed to be banished and destroyed
>Change the subject to distract Bianchi The sceptre and snacc, because we are undereating. Wine's fine, but don't drink with Bianchi, for obvious reasons.

Okay, so after this we know that foxxy doesn't wish harm to us, or at least takes summoning seriously. I think we might wanna switch to her over Bianchi.
Learn with her, get a favor or two from the cum jar, then banish the horny from the inside.
It's no shame to admit to her that we don't wanna risk too much and that we assisted Bianchi so he wouldn't let another demon out loose.

>>4874262
>'thank' her for her assistance
I thought you wanted to perform a sleight of handy on Bianchi?
>>
>>4874756
>I thought you wanted to perform a sleight of handy on Bianchi?

Not with company around. A lady has her priorities, even a lizard lady. Plus, he'll probably fall asleep in a minute or two. Drugs, alcohol, and exhaustion? Dead man walking.
>>
>>4874766
We are the lizard, anon.
A minute is more than enough for some.
>>
>>4874775
So long as fox-sempai remains while we put him to bed and get our snacc, then I'm sold.
>>
>>4874812
I hope the poor QM doesn't open these spoilers lmao
>>
>>4874825
>>4874812
>>4874775
>>4874766
[Two votes for sexual hedonism logged and noted for the morning's post. Voting remains open until such time, for this other, (arguably) more relevant matters!]
>>
>>4874221
>>Be frank: you don't trust the otehrs, and you're keeping her
>>
>>4874221
>Tell him that Irinnile grew too dangerous, and needed to be banished and destroyed
>>
>>4874232
>>4874262
>>4874334
>>4874756
>>4874878
>>4874888

"Banished," you say after a moment. "Permanently."

The fox-woman, who of course knows well this is not the case, says nothing. Bianchi fumes, stomping the floor swinging his sceptre about for as long as she can manage. Under the circumstances, it is not long.

"She was mien! MINE! Look, look at what we did, what we could have done, with here!"

He waves his sceptre before you, and you appraise it. It DOES look just like teh real thing, and you have to imagine it would sell for a pretty sum. One does wonder what the limits of this method are. Well, you have the succubus to yourself--perhaps you could explore that! granted, you don't have the book to guide you...

"It wass too dangerousss," you lie, when he stops to take a breath. When we tried to tried to trap it, it dessstroyed the container."

Bianchi's eyes fit to where the incense container once was and, indeed, is no longer.

"Never fear," you reassure him gently, taking his arm in yours and guiding him towards the stairs, “tonight was a sssuccccesss! We can always ssummon another, and you’ve proven the egenral principle!”

“Would need to find the true-name of another to exercise that level of control,” he grumbles. “We’ll need another container too. I’m not certain what to even use, given that one failed…”

You hush him, and give him a playful smile. “Come now, ssome food and well-earned wine will do wonderss for you. What have you got upsstairss?”

Indeed, it does. Bianchi, reinvigorated but slightly by food and quickly loosened up by a couple glasses of a fine old vintage he cleared out of his cellar to make room for demon-summoning circles, reveals that the staff is a replica of a staff of office once held by his great-great-great grandfather. He was a local leader of one of the smaller regions now merged under Hawksong’s authority, and that it was but the first of several such lost relics he planned to replicate.

“Some as reminders of the Bianchi family’s place,” he says arrogantly, nose up in the air in a dramatic and clearly-drunken fashion, “some to sell to regain our fortunes and our pride.”

The fox-woman titters at the display, and nurses her wine. You still haven’t sipped of yours, wary of your weak constitution for alcohol around Bianchi.

“Where iss the rest of this mossst noble family?” you ask.

“Mother is in the countryside, at the old estate,” he says. “Father, hahaha, Father ‘died in the lien of duty’. The sell-out scion who became a Paladin in service of the false king who stole his family’s symbols and melted them down, dying for his poor decisions…”
>>
>>4875254
It isn’t long after that Bianchi slums in his chair, breathing growing slow and deep as he drifts off. It’s just as you expected: food, exhaustion, and wine is a perfect combination to leave you and the fox-woman to your own devices. Only now do you toast her, and take a gulp of your wine. The taste of victory sis sweet, though the wine is quite a dry red.

You lead the half-in-the-bag young man to the first bedroom you can find,a nd lay him out next to his precious sceptre.

“What now?” the fox-woman asks. You notice her face is different now, subtly changed from its countenance earlier. More similar to how you first encountered her, you think.

>Find another bed to ‘thank’ the fox-woman properly [seduction]
>Attempt to negotiate some other price for her training—she’s proven invaluable
>Search and/or loot the Bianchi residence
>You should call it a night and return to the Engel residence—you’ve been away for two nights now
>Report back to Roth and spend the night there—you have many important developments to discuss
>Write-in
>>
>>4875255
Well shit.
>‘Thank’ the fox-woman [seduction]
Not bed, but still.
>Ask her if she can meet us tomorrow
>You should call it a night and return to the Engel residence—you’ve been away for two nights now
We still have to talk to old Engel about Khajiit caravan business. Better hit the bed there and talk the business over breakfast.
After that we can deal with foxy *properly* and visit Roth.
>>
>>4875342
Supporting
>>
>>4875255
>Find Bianchi's master bed to ‘thank’ the fox-woman properly [seduction]
>>
>>4875830
Can't it wait literally one night? Thought we agreed that we have problems with coordinating different activities and shagging the redhead now and staying overnight will only further complicate things.
>>
>>4875902
Using Bianchi's master bed seems too good a power play to pass up, and it doesn't mean we'd sleep here for the night. But if you want to pass up the opportunity, that's alright. I do agree with you that we should sleep at the Engel residence tonight.
>>
>>4875255
>Search and/or loot the Bianchi residence
>>
>>4875933
Well, I assumed that going for bed option without specifying that we wanna return to Engels would lead to Ismena spending the night here. It's important to mix the votes right lol
I'm okay with defiling the bed as long as we return to Engel residence in time. Coming back in the middle of the night would be odd, if not problematic.
Plus we might get jumped.
>>
>>4876021
Ah, I thought it would've been obvious that we couldn't stay, but you're right that we should make it back to the Engel's in time and that we should mix the votes to reflect that,

>>4875342
+1
>>
>>4876021
[It is worth noting that you began to ritual in the evening, spent about an hour in a spooky basement, then spent an hour getting drunk and having unspecified charcuterie. It is already nighttime.]
>>
>>4875255
>Find another bed to ‘thank’ the fox-woman properly [seduction]

maybe we can seduce her into teaching us
or get an opportunity to offer her hearts
>>
>>4876144
>>4876060
>>4876021
>>4875933
>>4875902
>>4875830
>>4875368
>>4875342
Your heart is still racing from the thrill of this coup, the feel of the incense-container's added eight in your pack. Your body is buzzing, skin tingling, blood boiling. It's not unlike the passion which flooded you after the slayings in the sewer. You turn to the fox-woman, grinning mischief.

“Why don't we go find the masster bedroom?” you ask meaningfully.

Your beastwoman companion follows you in your Lightfoot search of the property. However, she is not like the silly young males you've lured into your boudoir for business or pleasure: her experience dwarfs yours. When you enter the room, spying by curtain-muffled moonlight a wide bed beneath a crossed sword, shield, and oddly-familiar replica sceptre, it is she that takes the lead. It would remind you of Roth, but where he was brute force and dominance, she is skill and finesse. With fingers, mouth, and skillful use of tails, she plays your body perfectly. When she mounts your face to demand the favour returned, you are a willing, contented slave.

“That wasss…” You gasp, sweating for perhaps the first time in your life and unable to finish the thought.

“I am aware,” she whispers, voice tinged with a professional satisfaction. “There were several times when you were so distracted I could have slain you at my discretion. Did you forget what I am? That you have something I want?”

“…I ssupposse sso.” You take a moment to reevaluate your recent life choices. “But if you meant to sslay me and take the ssuccubuss, you could have done sso eassily during the ritual.”

She shrugs, expression amused but admitting nothing.

“I don't ssupposse my performancce wasss ssuch that you will teach me your magic anyway?” you ask hopefully.

No words. No change in expression. You know what she wants, and she knows you know: the succubus is the prize on which the fox sets her eyes.

“Meet me tomorrow?” you ask. “Before sunset? We can talk then.”

The fox stands up, the nakedness of her body wreathed in fox tails just long enough for a silken robes to appear beneath them as they part. You briefly wonder at the true form of that which you just gave yourself over to. How much danger did you really put yourself in just now? She seems scarcely less deadly than Irinnile…

But she nods, and takes her leave. You struggle into your clothes, hurrying after her… But she is already vanished. Gods Beyond and Below, what you wouldn’t give to learn her illusory abilities!

You leave the manor shortly thereafter, leaving Bianchi still slumbering and his inattentive staff—perhaps ordered not to interfere I their master's affairs this night—none the wiser. You know you have been gone from the House of Engel too long, and you have business there as well.
>>
>>4876242
What you don't anticipate is the coolness of your reception. By the time you arrive at your temporary ‘home, the interior is dark. You are forced to knock on the door to gain admission, and rather than let you in, the doorman makes you wait until a man of the house is roused. It is Edwin, who invites you in… But he is stiff, and not in the fun way.

“Where have you been?!” he asks somewhat loudly, when you are alone.

“Working,” you say simply.

“You haven't been home even to let us know where you were in neatly two days!”

You bristle slightly. Who is this ape—even an ape like Edwin—to demand you keep a schedule or apprise him of your comings and goings?

Then, you see the tears.

The male wipes the weakness from his eyes and glowers, though he yet trembles. “I'd thought… The rats. The demon woman…”

He clearly hasn't slept, possibly hasn't eaten. His eyes scan your body for injuries. He thought you were captive again, or worse… And he feared for your fate.

What do you do?
>Admonish him for his nosiness, and his weak display of emotion; establish dominance and the lack of need for accountability [affection -]
>Apologize, and embrace him [affection +]
>Accompany him to the bedroom; you could go for round two, and that ought to distract him
>Share in the excitement of your new business proposition
>Bring him in on the potentially life-changing acquisition of the succubus; he DOES love arcane matters
>Leave; if Edwin is going to prove a liability, you no longer need this place
>Write-in
>>
>>4876251
>Apologize, and embrace him [affection +]
>Accompany him to the bedroom; you could go for round two, and that ought to distract him

I knew we should've gotten magic lessons from fox-sempai beforehand.
>>
>>4876251
Wait, is that affection his or ours? I don't want to be a bitch to him but I don't think getting emotionally involved is a smart play.
>>
>>4876350
[You cannot definitively predict his own reaction, though you could reasonably infer...

That is your own affection.

Understanding that your own affection for him has moved beyond mere convenience, you know your half-human heart well enough to suspect what will happen if you hold him, and allow him to hold you: the curious warmth you've felt will swell at least a little bigger.

You started at 87% thanks to that roll. You've fallen 10% due to ignoring and neglecting him for a bit without considering the effect on him. Sleeping around was counteracted by making a deliberate decision to come home rather than keep him guessing for another night.]
>>
>>4876251
>Accompany him to the bedroom; you could go for round two, and that ought to distract him

Maybe throw in a little of option 1 too? Just to make a point that he doesn't need to worry about us, we know how to take care of ourselves.
>>
>>4876251
>Admonish him for his nosiness, and his weak display of emotion; establish dominance and the lack of need for accountability [affection -]
>>
>>4876251
>>Bring him in on the potentially life-changing acquisition of the succubus; he DOES love arcane matters
>>
>>4876251
>Apologize, and embrace him [affection +]
>Tell him we're tougher than we look and got all caught up in work and study. Sometimes we have to stay up late and ended up sleeping somewhere else
>Inform him that the rats are no longer posing as much threat as they have previously
>Use illusion to hide our tiredness
>Accompany him to the bedroom; you could go for round two, and that ought to distract him

>>4876350
We're already a bit involved, which doesn't really bother me personally.

>>4876393
How many nights have we been away? You previously said it was two, but I could only find one where we slept at Total Party Kill.
>>
>>4876812
>How many nights have we been away? You previously said it was two, but I could only find one where we slept at Total Party Kill.
[Edwin was counting tonight, since you're rolling up after midnight by the time you made it across town.]
>>
>>4876812
>>4876683
>>4876526
>>4876403
>>4876350
>>4876339

“Edwin,” you reassure him, “I’m okay. I promissse.”

Edwin says nothing. You consider just trying to lure him into the bedroom for some restorative sexual intercourse but, to your annoyance (and mild concern), he doesn’t immediately seem to be the mood—he’s too distraught. Seeing him in such a state leaves you… Displeased, in a hard-to-identify way. Or maybe you just don’t want to admit how involved you’ve become. You can’t help but take his hand in yours, and to embrace the poor, gangly sod’s body with your own.

“The ratss aren’t the threat they oncce were,” you say, stroking his back. “Ssometimess, work just goess late, and I need to ssleep elsewhere.”

“I thought you said you… Wouldn’t need to do that work, anymore,” he says, quietly.

You laugh, and say truthfully—technically truthfully—that it was only dancing and other entertainments these last two nights. After all, you were to preoccupied at Eastern Standard to earn any coin through ‘wetwork’, and the fox-woman was only secondarily an economic or strategic matter.

The two of you talk about his day and some interesting matters he’s been reading about certain animals which can predict or affect the weather, and the flesh of a so-called ‘salmon of knowledge’ which one legend attests can grant magical abilities and universal secrets with a taste of its flesh. He talks of Fynn, who has been busy arranging secure details and workmen to shift Zika’s excavated materials between government storage and other such facilities and to the Engelson Company’s own facilities.

You close your eyes, listening to his hitched breathing regulate itself, his heartbeat slow as anxiety leaves is body. His mammalian warmth is balm to your own muscles, sore from exertion and tension… Though admittedly, you’ve already had another mammal’s help with that. The latter thought, and reminiscences of earlier this evening, begin to leave you distracted and itching for one particular sensation the fox-woman couldn’t provide.

“Come on, Edwin, it’ss late,” you whisper to the male, giving him a squeeze below the belt—or where it would be, were he not in one of his robes. “Let’ss go to bed.”

[Affection: 89%]
>>
>>4877051
You wake up snuggled in your Edwin’s bed and in his embrace, you allow yourself to soak in his warm and to appreciate the adoration inherent in how he holds you close. Is it so wrong, or weak, or human to appreciate being worshiped by another for a few minutes in the mornings? You rationalize your growing endearment away, closing your eyes and scooting closer to him. You muse about waking him for some more active ‘worship’…

But inevitably , your thoughts turn to duty, and efficiency, and the things a good operative should be focused upon. Your open your eyes and slip smoothly out of bed, eyeing your bag in the corner. The succubus’ container is still within, and you have a meeting scheduled with the fox-woman later this day. Perhaps you could see about securing some useful tomes from Bianchi?

And there are yet other matters to consider squeezing into your day: a debriefing with Roth perhaps? Should you be checking in on Lord Yosef, and what he has gotten up to this last week since he acquired his illusion-penetrating magical glasses and had his publishing efforts stymied? What of the Gray Press, for that matter—have they published your story in their paper? At the very least, you should prepare a business proposal for Edwin's father about shirin distribution (and maybe learn more about the stores Zika materials).

“Izzy?”

Ah, damn, you woke Edwin. You look over your shoulder and catch him appreciating your rear. You smile slightly—cheeky pet.

“Where are you going?” he asks. “It’s early…”

“I have work to do,” you explain, affecting sadness. “But I’ll be back.”

“I thought you…. Worked… Late?” he asks. “I was actually thinking we might spend some time together, you know? Catch up before you have to go.”

You suppress a frown. More study dates? Somewhat enjoyable, and good to practice certain meditative techniques, but Lord Bianchi (or especially the fox-woman) is undoubtedly more useful as a source of applicable magical knowledge, and you have so much else to do today.

“Actually, I was thinking… I don't really know what you do for fun, besides studying and… Well…”

He blushes slightly, to your amusement.

“What if we made it a date day, you and me? No books or magic or anything, just us and whatever you want to do?”

You hesitate. You don't want to attract suspicion or put Edwin off—for strategic reasons—but do you really have time for such frivolity?
>Tell Edwin you have plans with friends
>Agree that a date day sounds nice
>Tell Edwin you have errands, but agree to let him tag along
>Refuse, citing personal matters
>Pivot the conversation to your business proposal for his father
>Write-in
>>
>>4877071
>Go for a quick round two so Edwin can't complain
>Tell him you're a heavily work-focused individual, trying to get various things done instead of sitting around like some... useless trophy
>Pivot the conversation to your business proposal for his father
Keep hustling.
Can we talk the business over breakfast or no?

We could use Edwin's help, but I don't know what could we do besides those "magic dates". I feel like slowly easing him into our darker side is in order to make him truly useful, but indoctrination is a tricky business. Especially when his father and potential friends are in the way of fully embracing the real Ismena Rosgard.

We need to find a good shady alchemist. Maybe the fox has any idea who could provide us with some untraceable poison. For poor, old Lord Yosef, of course.
>>
>>4877444
+1 and

>Agree that a date day sounds nice

We'll plan it out on a different day, as we have plans with friends today.
>>
>>4878118
>>4877444
Sue Porting
>>
>>4877071
>Tell Edwin you have errands, but agree to let him tag along

Only for the Gray Press and his dad tho
Ditch him before any of the other stuff.
>>
>>4878222
>>4878153
>>4878118
>>4877444
“That ssoundss wonderful,” you tell Edwin, whose face brightens as if he expected you to shut him down. Clever boy, as it turns out, because you then add: “But I can't.”

“Why not?” he asks.

“I have a full day,” you say apologetically. “I have already made commitments to sso many people! Friendss, asssocciates… I'm actually working on a bussinesss propossal for your father. Ssee, I met these fassscinating Easstern merchantss with thiss ‘sspice’ that—”

“I don't even know any of your friends,” Edwin says, as if the realization ahs just struck him. You can see the thought troubles him.

“I don’t know any of yourss, either,” you point out.

“I don’t have many,” he notes, smiling lopsidedly. Well, that makes influencing him easier, you suppose…

“Well, we’ll have to introducce you to ssome of mine,” you say, sitting down next to him. “Jusst… Another day. You have your passion for magic, which of courssse I share… But this iss my passion. I work, I keep busy. It’ss jusst how I’ve always been.”

“You don’t need to anymore,” he says, placing an arm round you, as if you shield you from the world.

“I don’t want to be ssome… Uselessss trophy.”

Edwin’s expression indicates that he gets it, and you feel his tension lessen. Then, he grins.

“Ah, but you’re so shiny and pretty,” he says. “Must be all that oil you use.”

You take the jocularity for a sign that he’s returning to normal, and you slip into place upon his lap.

“Well then, why don’t we give that prize of yours a good ‘polish’ too?” you whisper.
>>
>>4878315

After you’ve had another roll in the too-small bed, you decide to meet Edwin half-way—Edwin has one of the servants send word to his father, and you stick around long enough for breakfast with both Engel men.

“What’s all this about?” Fynn of Engel asks.

You swallow a mouthful of bacon, wash it down with some cool water (you told the servants that you’re dieting, and they stopped offering milk and juice), and begin: “I ran into an interesssting opportunity…”

Fynn listens to your heavily-redacted tale of how you came to associate with the Eastern Standard Silk & spice Company, and the stimulant you thus discovered. He nibbles at his light breakfast and nods along until you finish… But his expression is unmoved.

“They sound like small-time importers, and this isn’t even their major import,” he says of the Eastern Standard traders and ther shirin. “We don’t really dabble in retail, or even wholesale distribution. We are a storage and security company. What good are we to some… Nomads… With nary enough to fill a single small container, who are in Hawksong perhaps annually?”

“Maybe they’d bring more, and come more frequently, if they had a place to store things, and someone like Izzy to sell their goods?” Edwin suggests.

Attaboy! You knew there was a reason you brought him in on this.

“Hrm…”

His father still seems unconvinced, though.>Screw Fynn then, you can do this on your own as a side-hustle
>Get Fynn to accompany you on a meeting with Cuggi before he makes up his mind
>Offer Fynn your sample fo shriin, to let him experience this wonder-drug for himself and see the potential there
>Give up on this venture; it was just a passing fancy
>Write-in

And what’s next in your day?
>Go find a copy of the Gray Press daily gossip rag, to see if they’ve printed your cover-story yet [Bring Edwin? No? please specify]
>Look into poisons at the elven alchemy-and-apothecary boutique where you acquired your leafweave armour
>Pay Lord Yosef a visit, just to see how that’s all developing
>Pay Bianchi a visit at home, to discuss his various forbidden tomes and future demonological plans
>Head to your apartment to check in on things, and to experiment with the succubus
>Report to Roth on recent developments, maybe get some dragonblood dick to round out the hedonistic binge
>Write-in
>>
>>4878318
>Offer Fynn your sample of shriin, to let him experience this wonder-drug for himself and see the potential there

COCAINE

>Head to your apartment to check in on things, and to experiment with the succubus

We should actually see what we can get out of her before we maybe hand her over to foxy
>>
>>4878318
>Get Fynn to accompany you on a meeting with Cuggi before he makes up his mind
We can take Edwin, too! I'm sure Cuggi can give Fynn a sample of shirin if they meet for business.
And then we can get hedonized by the scary fox in her tent, or whatever.

>Head to your apartment to check in on things, and to experiment with the succubus
Exactly what >>4878348 said about this choice. I really wanted to go for the Elven Boutique and look into poisons, but since Foxy is after the succy, we gotta hoard as much information as possible to make the right decisions and know the consequences. Hedonize succubus?

Wish I remembered that finding a demon's name was needed for a summoning. We could've just deleted the bitch for good.

Also petition for QM to start telling us time in updates so we can navigate and spend the day better.
>>
>>4878318
>Get Fynn to accompany you on a meeting with Cuggi before he makes up his mind
>Offer Fynn your sample fo shriin, to let him experience this wonder-drug for himself and see the potential there

This will help with our subversion, so long as we don't use our entire supply.

>Head to your apartment to check in on things, and to experiment with the succubus

It's time we figure out what this demon is really worth. I hope our dreams haven't led us astray.

Hedonism? Hell yea!
>>
>>4878669
Why offer him ours if we can drag him to Cuggi? It's not like we have a stash.
>>
>>4878692
I guess we can wait if we want to.
>>
>>4878760
>>4878692
>>4878669
>>4878586
>>4878348

“All I assk iss that you meet with the trader and dissscusss the matter. Wass the laasst meeting I arranged not fruitful?”

Fynn sighs, but smiles and nods. “It was. And I never did thank you, did I? I suppose this can be that.”

You smile in satisfaction, and rummage in your bag as another thought occurs.

“Here,” you say, producing the small pouch of white powder you acquired from Cuggi. “Give this a try when you have time. I promissse, you will ssee the value in it.”

With that matter settled—well, started, but how can you fail to secure this nifty little income source with both Engels wrapped around your finger and such a valuable product?—you wolf down what remains of your morning repast, give Edwin a kiss on the cheek and a squeeze of the shoulder, and depart. Next destination: the apartment Edwin rented out for you.

As you walk through the mid-morning Hawksong foot traffic (never as bustling as city centre out here in the estates, but twice as well-dress) you wonder if you’ll even need the apartment any longer. Moresover, does Edwin? Is your stay in his family home a temporary measure until the wererats are brought to heel, or are you permanently moved in? You suspect, with a smirk, that the answer is whichever you would rather it be. Either way, the apartment is rented out for now, and it will make the perfect experimental laboratory for a bit of light occultism.
>>
>>4879083
When you arrive at the apartment, give the nod to a few vaguely-familiar mammalian faces who might be neighbours. You note a strange tension, and concerned glances when they see which apartment you are entering. Taking this as a cue, you give the place a once-over; last time you were here, Zivic and Tokunbo’s little flying corvid spies had been in here. The window is open—still? Again? Did you close it before you took your valuables and abandoned this place?—but you find nothing else amiss in the green-and-gold décor of the tiny but well-furnished suite.

Thus satisfied, you take out the succubus’ container. You turn it round and round in your hands. No mysterious smoke billows, despite holes through which one might well assume it could. Perhaps the vessel is merely a focus for the binding ritual, whereby Irinnile is truly contained? You shut your eyes and focus your mystical energies and senses upon the incense-container clutched in your hands, and can immediately feel the faint buzz of the magic trapped within. You imagine you can feel its desire to be free.
Question is: once free, how will you recapture her? You hardly have the ritual memorized. Is there a way to interact with Irinnile without liberating her from her prison? Inspiration strikes: maybe in meditation, or dreams? You’d have to remove your protective moonstone-and-sprig charm against occult interference, though…

What do you do?
>Attempt to communicate verbally or psychically with Irinnile through the container, without freeing her
>Free Irinnile; you are confident that, wielding her true name, you can command and bind her
>Remove your charm against the occult and attempt to reach out through a meditative state
>Pay off some street urchin or messenger to send word to Bainchi to meet you here
>Abandon this enterprise as too risky, and do something else
>Write-in
>>
>>4879086
>Attempt to communicate verbally or psychically with Irinnile through the container, without freeing her
Try to be quiet and discreet, fuck knows what's going on here

We should have a separate apartment, because living with Engels is risky as fuck for a couple reasons. This apartment though, it has to go. The weird stares people gave us would be problematic even if they didn't mean that this place is compromised. And we know it is.

Did we give Fynn all of our shirin?
>>
>>4879131
>Did we give Fynn all of our shirin?

[You didn't have much or any other storage pouches for it, so when the vote came in to give him some, yep. That said: it's highly unlikely he'd just take it all, so you could request it back... Or get more from Cuggi.]

>>4878586
>Also petition for QM to start telling us time in updates so we can navigate and spend the day better.

[Only extremely wealthy and modern people have reliable 24-hours clocks and sync them regularly. I usually try to include notes about the time of day in my descriptions, which is realistically all that the Infiltrator would have to go off of.]
>>
>>4879203
>Only extremely wealthy and modern people have reliable 24-hours clocks and sync them regularly. I usually try to include notes about the time of day in my descriptions, which is realistically all that the Infiltrator would have to go off of.
Yeah, I understand that, but from perspective of a player who doesn't see the world around Ismena, it's hard to actually keep a track of time after ~5 updates on demon summoning for example. I usually only realize when her day comes to an end and then starts, everything past morning just blurs together.
Throwing in more exposition for the passing time through Ismena's eyes could help.
>>
>>4879131
+1, maybe we can work up from there.
>>
>>4879086
>Attempt to communicate verbally or psychically with Irinnile through the container, without freeing her

Threaten to bury her container somewhere rarely traversed if no reply
>>
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>>4879738
>>4879477
>>4879131

You sit on the loveseat central to this apartment’s living space and set the incense-container on the table before it. Templing your fingers, you think for a while. Well, no reason not to try the most direct route first, right?

“Succubus?” you say.

Nothing.

“Irinnile, I command you to reply if you can hear me.”

Still nothing. Experimentally, you flick the side of the incense container. This elicits a high pitched ‘ting’ of impact, but naught else. Alright then, perhaps a different approach is needed. You shut your eyes and concentrate upon your vital mystical energies, not enough to enter a meditative trance, but enough to get a feel for the flow of energies around you. You trace your fingers gently over the curvature of the container, and feel the energies within moving with your motion… as if following them attentively.

“Irinnile?” you whisper again, keeping your voice down incase a nosy neighbour—or something more nefarious and occult—is listening in.

You get no reply… But you feel the attentive energy spike, as if sparking and flaring beneath your fingers. The succubus has heard you, and though it plays at deafness, it cannot hide its psychic response from your probing mind when you speak its name.

“Now now,” you chide the uncooperative sliver of darkness, “don’t make me bury you beneath a tree in some remote wildernesss.”

“I’m immortal,” comes a sulky reply in the back of your mind, thrumming in tune to the almost imperceptible vibrations of the incense container. “I’ll get free eventually.”

Were your and not directly upon it and your mind focused, you’re not sure you’d have heard the demon at all, so quiet and dampened is its voice and its telepathic presence.

“You are no creature of patiencce and temperancce, though, are you?” you tease. “Cooperate, and you needn’t wait aeonsss.”

A pause ensues, until you lsoeyour own patience and rattle the container.

“OKAY, OKAY, FINE,” comes Irinnile’s urgent response. “What do you propossssse, lissssspy?”

What do you do?
>Offer the succubus freedom in exchange for a pact of servitude
>Ask the succubus to be imbued with its power, but with guarantees of safety
>Tell the succubus you wish to perform a ritual similar to Bianchi, acquiring some item or object from your dreams [what?]
>Ask the succubus for knowledge from beyond the material realm [about what?]
>Petition the horny devil for some form of carnal boon
>Write-in
>>
>>4879905
>Ask the succubus to be imbued with its power, but with guarantees of safety

1000 page contract
>>
>>4879905
>Offer the succubus freedom in exchange for a pact of servitude
>Ask the succubus to be imbued with its power, but with guarantees of safety

I was tempted about the carnal boon, but we can petition the demon about that at a later date. For now I wanna see if the perks this demon offers are worth the trouble, and whether having a positive relationship with the demon is a foolhardy endeavor or not.
>>
>>4879905
I do wonder... if the demon could replicate the Mages' Tower badge, enchantment and all? And I wonder if a succubus would be interested in infiltrating and perverting such a celibate organization?
>>
>>4879905
>Petition the horny devil for some form of carnal boon
Don't wanna deal with this thing long-term desu.
>>
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>>4879954
>>4880131
>>4880307
>>4880543

It’s a tough call. The demon’s services as a spy or oracle, its power over mortal minds and bodies… Even its raw carnality… All of them appeal to you. Ultimately, though, there’s only one way to have it all.

“You ssaid earlier that it would be fun to be bound to a body,” you muse. “What about mine?”

This proposal gives the succubus palpable pause.

“You’re not going to listen to the foxy lady’s warning?” it asks, as if not believing its luck.

“Maybe, maybe. I have a few questionss first.”

“Well shit, Lispy, let me hear ‘em!”

You’re not sure you like how confident the demon is that it will get the better of you. Nevertheless…

“Can you replicate magic to allow ssafe passsage into a Magess’ Tower?”

“What an oddly specific question,” the succubus titters. “Yeah, maybe. Probably. I dunno’. You never know until you try! Why do you ask?”

“I’m looking to infiltr—” you stop, rethinking your phrasing. “I intend to PERVERT the laughably CHAST and CELIBATE organization of the Hawkssong Magess’ Tower. Are you in?”

“Ooo, I knew I liked you. You’re FUN, Lispy. Let me in that hot little body of yours and we’ll show those wizards why a staff has a knob on the end! By hellfire, I can taste all that bottled-up magical lifeforce already!”

Is it your imagination, or is there steam rising from the essence container?

“How can I be ssure you’ll be usseful for this tassk? You ask. “What can you do?”

“Well, mages have all kinds of anti-illusion security measures, right? And anti-summoning ones outsides of specific areas, UNFORTUNATELY. Stuff me up inside of you and I can reshape your body itself—no illusion, but actual, physical change!”

“Sstuff you…?” you eye the essence container with a logistical eye.

“Not literally. It’s an innuendo, OBVIOUSLY. Release me, and I’ll do the rest.”

“What else can you do?” you ask.

“What, being able to change your body around isn’t enough? That includes wings and shit, you know!” A pause, then a huff. “Fiiine, I can also improve your magical ability to manipulate minds, the bodies of others to an extent… And not just for a roll in the hay, neither. A succubus knows what a mortal wants. A succubus can MANIFEST that, too, with enough juice. And besides that… A succubus knows what they respect. What they FEAR. They can enter dreams. They can hide in shadows. The fires of hell itself cannot burn them. Mundane weapons cannot harm them.”

It’s quite the sales pitch, you must admit. All of that, for you? It would be quite the benefit to your mission…

“And sex feels UH-MAY-ZING when you’re draining off lifeforce every time they cum,” Irinnile adds.

…And there’s that, you suppose.
>>
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>>4880928

“How do I know you won’t betray me, take over my mind or steal my soul?” you ask. “A contract?”

“Haaah, naaah,” Irinnile says with a laugh. “Your pathetic ‘northern peasant-tongue’ or whatever has so many euphemisms, alternate meanings, homophones, variations, imprecisions… You’d never stand a chance in a thousand pages or a thousand years.”

That’s less than ideal. Maybe if you were to borrow some books from Bianchi… Or maybe, given the vastly superior nature of the True Script of your Reptilian Master Race, passed down by the Dark Gods Beyond and Below, your native language could better serve you here?

“Guess you’ll just have to trust meeee,” Irinnile chimes in with a sing-song voice.

What do you do?
>Draw up a contract in the True Script of the Reptilian Master Race
>Go see Bianchi about his illicit demonological tomes—they worked once!
>Wait to speak to the fox-woman—she seemed confident that she could manage the demon, after all
>Consult with Edwin and Fynn on matters of mercantile contract law—who better than a merchant to manipulate their language for personal gain and minimum risk?
>Trust Irinnile—you have something she wants, and vice versa, so perhaps it’s not so risky?
>Abandon this enterprise and pursue another option
>>
>>4880932
>Draw up a contract in the True Script of the Reptilian Master Race

I mean we did get it from the gods themselves.
Give or take a couple thousand generations. Hm, maybe we should wait for fox woman.
>>
>>4880932
>Abandon this enterprise and pursue another option
>Wait to speak to the fox-woman
Fuck this shit, last we need is a rabid demon om the loose. This is definitely gonna blow up in our fucking face, potentially completely jeopardizing things we've struggled to build.
>>
>>4880932
>>Wait to speak to the fox-woman—she seemed confident that she could manage the demon, after all
>>
>>4880932
>>Abandon this enterprise and pursue another option
>>
>>4881503
>>4881353
>>4881015
>>4880999

It’s not a lack of faith in your masters, ancestors, or gods that holds you back. It’s prudent loyalty to the mission. Sure, sexually-charged superpowers leading to personal glory are tempting… But as a professional temptress, you know when you’re being played.

“If it’ss all the ssame to you, Irinnile, I think I’ll get a second opinion,” you say with a smirk.

“Hey—wait! The fox? Come on, you know she just wants me all to herse—”

You take your hand away from the incense-container ad allow your senses to slip back into normal, mundane frequencies of existence. You look at the container a moment longer, contemplating the offer… But you stuff it in your bag and sling it back onto your shoulders. Time to leave this compromised place.

You give the apartment—so briefly yours—one last look-over, open the door, and step out… Right out of that fire and into a new frying pan. You practically bump into the chestplate of a Hawksong City Guardsman, his partner standing alongside him.

“Woah! Easy there miss. This your place?”

You say nothing for a moment, mind racing. Why are they here? Is it related to the strange looks your neighbours were giving you? What could they be investigating that would be tied to your apartment?

What do you do?
>Deny it, claiming to be cleaning staff
>Admit to having lived here, but play it cool; what do they want? Surely you’ve done nothing wrong.
>Use glamour and illusion to distract and befuddle the guards into spilling their story and letting you go [roll required]
>Kick for the balls and make a break for it
>Write-in
>>
>>4881876
>Admit to having lived here, but play it cool; what do they want? Surely you’ve done nothing wrong.

dang those succ shapeshifting abilities would come in handy right about now
>>
>>4881876
>Admit to having lived here, but play it cool; what do they want? Surely you’ve done nothing wrong.

>>4881950
What would you do, disguise yourself in front of them?
>>
>>4882350
Disguise ourselves after making a break for it
>>
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>>4882350
>>4881950

“Yess, I lived here… For a time. I wass collecting a few things. Why do you assk?”

The guards exchange a glance, and the younger one asks:

“Have you read the papers?”

His senior colleague nudges him into silence, which makes a loud clank as his elbow meets the side of the other’s chestplate.

“I can’t ssay I have,” you admit readily.

“When you lived here, did you experience anything… Strange?”

What, like wererat gang wars? Occult meddling and home invasions by possessed animals? Or the succubus trapped in a container in your backpack? Or maybe they mean subterranean secret agents from a Reptilian master race?

“No,” you reply innocently. “What could you mean?”

“Some… Suspicious activity registered by the other residents in the last couple weeks. Seems smeone might have broken into your suite.”

“Oh!” you feign surprise. “Oh dear me!”

Th guards exchange another glance, and one gestures for you to remain put. They turn around and huddle in to whisper unsubtly back and forth, the younger glance back at you a couple times. You give him a flirty wave. Couldn’t hurt, right?

Eventually, they return. Your every muscle is tense, ready to spring… But in what direction? Attack, or retreat? What do they want?

“You’re free to go,” the older guardsman says. “But could we ask where we might find you if we have further questions?”

What do you do?
>Give them an unused pseudonym and a false address [specify]
>Give them the name ‘Ismena Rosgard’, and let them know you’re staying at the Engel Manor
>Give them the name ‘Kamunu’, and tell them you’re working at The Pretty Kitty
>Try and work them for information on whatever it is they’re investigating [politesse/seduction]
>Make a break for it
>Write-in
>>
>>4882707
>Try and work them for information on whatever it is they’re investigating [politesse/seduction]

We could have mentioned the wererat gang wars probably
>>
>>4882707
>Give them an unused pseudonym and a false address [specify]
Mary Sue
as for address, does Ismena know any streets she rarely goes to? I was thinking we could give them the name of such street.
>>
>>4882707
>Make a break for it
>>
>>4882803
>>4882930
>>4883366

[Anyone want to break a tie? If not, I'll reconcile the two nit-running-away votes later.]
>>
>>4882803
>>4882930
I'll support these two then, way better than making a break for it.

Also, voting to lock the succubus away? For shame. If I wasn't busy I would have tied it up with the Reptilian contract. Remember the dream lads, even if we give her away for illusion lessons (poor trade but what do I know).
>>
>>4883788
>>4883366
>>4882930
>>4882803
“Mary Ssue,” you say. “I'm living on the other sside of the river now, closer to the dockss. Near the Clam ‘n Kettle?”

The guards nod. It's a plausible lie. They recognize the residence of a kept woman when they see it—that IS more or less why Edwin got you the place, when you get down to it—and they likely assume you lost favour and went back to bartending or something similar where you attractive woman of the lower classes can make a semi-honest living. Luckily, your recent visit to the dock area gives you a key to work with, making the lie more plausible: a sailor and dockworker’s bar you saw in passing as you walked Grendelia home.

“What would anyone want with me or my apartment?” you ask, convincingly playing the part of a nervous and curious young human female. “Did anyone ssee who did it? Should… Should I be worried, ssir?”

You look up at the older, taller male, batting eyelashes and clasping your hands together to draw attention to your bosom. It works, predictably.

“Well, there's no need to fear with us around!” he boasts, puffing out his own chest. “But I can't really comment in an investigation…”

You well up some crocodile tears. “But… I have to walk home tonight! How will I know if I'm being… F-followed?”

“Err…”

You clutch at him and press your trembling form to his chestplate. “Maybe you could esscort me…?”

It's a calculated risk, and you play it just right. You can tell he'd love to take you hone, his OR yours, but that he can't due to schedule or some other reason—marital vows, maybe. He does what he can to assuage your girlish fears and to prove his competence: he tells you what you want to know.

“Well, word on the street is some crooked folks are skulking the streets dressed like animals , or associating with beastmen of some sort. Hardened criminals, looking like rats. They should stick out like a sore thumb, but just to play it safe, the Paladins are telling everyone to look out for vagrant-types in general. It was one of those who was seen skulking around your place. I wouldn't worry, though—the rat-men seem farfetched to me, and a vagrant breaking into a nice place when the lady of the house hasn't been around for a bit isn't exactly ‘unusual’.”

He thinks he's giving you a good scare to shake and shiver over, and a bit of reassurance. It's a courtship ritual of sorts, predicated on the assumption of a sheltered, childlike femininity. You recognize the maneuver. You ALSO recognize the underlying truth that the guardsman doesn't: Boss Leo, or one of his surviving wererat minions, has been staking out your apartment, possibly under orders from Zivic's demonic ghost.
>>
>>4883838
You excuse yourself, thanking the officers for their service and telling them that as long as big, strong men are out there patrolling the streets, you think you can bring yourself to feel safe. You leave the apartment by a different route than you came in, padding quietly and keeping low. You've rarely felt so unsafe in your life. What if they're watching you now?

…Well, okay. It’s crowded and early afternoon, and you don't SEE any obvious rat sentinels, orbiting corvids, or suspicious vagrants. They're probably not watching you RIGHT now…

Where do you go?
>Find a copy of the Gray Press to read up on what they published about your tale of the wererats
>Pay Roth a visit to consult on recent events and revelations
>Go see Cuggi about the shirin business, and the fox-woman about the Irinnile
>Visit an apothecary to procure poisons
>Check in on your loose ends at Lord Yosef’s manor
>Write-in
>>
>>4883841
>Go see Cuggi about the shirin business, and the fox-woman about the Irinnile

All these natural rat predators in one place should freak any followers out hella bad
>>
>>4883841
>Go see Cuggi about the shirin business, and the fox-woman about the Irinnile
>Find a copy of the Gray Press to read up on what they published about your tale of the wererats

We needn't read it now, it's for dinner reading really.

We should see what Lord Yosef has gotten himself into soonish though.
>>
>>4883841
>>4883886
+1 this, and
>Take a route/use illusion to lose any tails we might have
If the apartment is under proper surveillance, then we were definitely noticed. Last thing we need is compromising all the other places we visit/sleep at.
We gotta check Yosef, but I really wanna see Roth soon. We should update him on stuff and tell him our apartment is/was being stalked by the shit-dwellers.
Maybe he can help us by completing simpler tasks? Things like tracking those glorified mice down, getting intel on Yosef or keeping an eye out for Zivic demon's activity in the city wpuld help us a lot, if he has some time after human-work. Hell, some of those could be done during his regular work.
>>
>>4884365
>>4883866
>>4883886

First things first: you have a revenue stream to explore, and some gifted stimulants to replace. It’s a good time to go confirm the meeting date and time with Cuggi. Better yet, you reckon that the fox-woman is likely to be there. While you have no doubt that the uncanny beastwoman can find you again, however it is she did it before, you wish to consult with her sooner rather than later.

The journey to the dockyards takes much longer on foot than it did by carriage, but this gives you ample opportunity to lose any stalking shadows you may have grown. You take advantage of the opportunity to practice you magic a little, dipping into shadows and holding the darkness around you like a cloak as you dip into side-streets or attempting to refract the glare of the sun to distract and waylay pursuers. In all honesty, you aren’t sure how much use it is without knowing what perspective or angle you’re being watched from—from above, the expanding and contracting patches of shadow and periodic flares of light might actually make you a bit MORE visible.

It is mid-to-late afternoon, and surprisingly warm for the season, when you pass the Clam ‘n kettle, enter the realm of ships and storehouses, and finally approach the tents of the Eastern Standard Silk & Spice Company’s little home away from home. Standing sentinel at the main entrance to the tent are the two minotaurs who assaulted Grendelia. You feel a pang of irritation, but you bury it like the professional spy you are.
>>
>>4884598
“Hello, boyss,” you greet the bull-headed brutes. “I’m here to ssee Master Cuggi.”

One of them snorts. “He is expecting you?”

“We’d dissscussed it before,” you answer. “Mind letting him know I’m here?”

“Wait here,” he commands, leaving you in the care of his fellow beastman as he dips inside.

You amuse yourself by admiring the departing bull-boy’s well-muscled glutes. It beats thinking of the wererats and Zivic. At least the presence of cat-men and fox-women is likely to put off the former, you reason. Certainly, you notice the absence of even the water-rats one might expect near so many ships and warehouses of potentially-edible or nest-ready material.

Eventually, the minotaur returns. He says nothing, but parts the tent-flap for one of Cuggi’s human men, yellow-brown of skin and narrow of eye. You think you recognize him from your last visit. He brings you inside, and you find the tent much less crowded than before, and the atmosphere much quieter. Those males present are talking business in separate corners, boiling pots of food or drink over small fires, or taking inventory of boxed goods. A few seem to be loading the company’s titular silk and spices onto carts to bring to market, and you realize that is surely where the bulk of the company is today: unloading that same sort of merchandise in Hawksong’s marketplace. Cuggi, however, awaits you at the far end of the tent with two other cat-men.

“Welcome, dancer,” Cuggi says, tail curling. You recognize this as a good sign—he’s relaxed, happy, interested in your arrival. Working for Mina has been a great help in readying you to negotiate with cat-people. “You come to see me?”

“Hello, Massster Cuggi. I come to talk shop,” you say, with a smile.

Cuggi still seems skeptical on the viability of a shirin trade, considering this ‘spice’ to eb a little outside of his own realm of expertise. It seems the human and the two cat-men with him are better-versed in the substance’s economics, hence their continued presence. As with Fynn of Engel, one of his principle concerns is who will sell it, and through what channels.

What do you propose?
>You will sell it on the streets, or arrange others who will, using the same cart-and-hawker method which works well for souvenirs and foodstuffs
>You will sell it through work, making it a part of your ‘wares’ at The Pretty Kitty and bringing Cuggi’s sister, Mina, in on this
>You will sell it among the wealthy folks you meet with in the Engel family’s merchant dealings
>You will find stores and shops, such as apothecaries, which might carry it
>Write-in
>>
>>4884602
>You will sell it among the wealthy folks you meet with in the Engel family’s merchant dealings

We can make it the new in thing
>>
>>4884602
>You will sell it among the wealthy folks you meet with in the Engel family’s merchant dealings

Subverting society at a premium.
>>
>>4885573
>>4885431
“I have connectionss in high placess,” you say. “Sell me but ssmall volumess, and I will make thiss foreign sspice and expenssive big ccity luxury.”

You can read the skepticism in the face of the human present, if not in the stonefaced cat-men. To them, you are the dancing whore that Cuggi's sister sent them, not a high roller.

“Meet me, and the owner of the Engelsson Sstorehousse Company, tomorrow. Will that sserve to convinccce you?”

It certainly seems to draw some flicking tails and whispers in the queer dialect of Eastern felines. They cannot help but be aware of the company, which owns many of the warehouses around them.

“Very well,” Cuggi says. “At the Clam ‘n Kettle.”

“It'ss a date,” you quip, unable to restrain the by now automatic flirty banter of your profession(s).

What do you do?
>Request additional shirin for personal use
>Mention the rough handling of your coworker the previous night
>Discuss other trade goods [anything specific?]
>Discuss other matters with Cuggi and his men [What?]
>Go see the fox-woman [about the succubus? Magic lesson? Sex? Some combination?]
>Write-in
>>
>>4885666
>Go see the fox-woman [about the succubus? Magic lesson? Sex? Some combination?]

magic and also hypothetically if I wanted to let this SUCC possess me
>>
>>4885666
>Discuss other matters with Cuggi and his men
Ask if their presence is appreciated around the docks, since they seem to scare off all the rats and mice.
>Request additional shirin
Pay for it if we have to.
>Go see the fox-woman
Ask if she'd give us a free lesson to see if we're getting our succ's worth.
Be honest with her about the demonic deal - if she wants to get Irinnile, it is not before we make a pact that says the demon won't serve the Foxy (or someone else) in a way that would directly or indirectly harm us, our friends or allies, or interfere with our plans or activities. Premium protection or no deal.
I'm sure she didn't even think of turning against us, but a girl has to be careful in this dangerouss world, right?
>>
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>>4885994
>>4885785
>Discuss other matters with Cuggi and his men

“Appreciated?” Cuggi laughs. “We are at these docks despite coming overland, so little are we appreciated in a big human city. We can stay among the storage and ships, on the edges fo the city, or we can stay nowhere.”

>Request additional shirin
“Ssome additional ssamples could useful, in advancce of the negotiationsss…”

“Prices would need to be even higher, to keep giving it away like that,” Cuggi notes pointedly. “You used it all?”

You shake your head. “I ussed it to sscore uss this meeting.”

“Ah. Sad. Still…”

You get it, you get it. What will you do?
>Pay the asking price
>Haggle it lower
>Press for a freebie, with the expectation of a bigger chunk of profits on future sales
>Wait to get your shirin fix later
>Write-in
>>
>>4886264
Your next matter is, of course, the fox-woman. You ask around, first with Cuggi and then with a string of other humans and raccoon-men to whom he refers you to, but you have no luck finding her around the tent. Only when you give up and leave the tent do you feel a rough sensation—a paw-pad?—upon your shoulder.

You whirl around, and see no beastman, but a human woman… Clad in fox fur and a silken gown. The face this day is different than before, but you recognize your quarry. She is smiling demurely, but you see the satisfaction in her eyes: that of a predator who has successfully entrapped and ambushed prey.

“You’ve proven your point,” you note. “Your magic would be VERY usseful…”

“So too, what you have brought me to negotiate for it,” she says.

“The demon COULD be ussseful to me, as well,” you point out. “And it hass offered as much.”

“To possess you? Hm. Yes.”

The fox-woman says nothing else. You remember her earlier warnings, and she knows it: that you’re here, seeking the fox-woman out, not yet having allowed the succubus freedom or access to your body, tells the tale.

“Perhapss if you were to offer a free lesssson, I would know whether what you’re offering outweighss what the ssuccubuss hass?”

“A free lesson, then,” she agrees.

You can’t hide your excitement. Really? It was that easy?

“This is your lesson: if you offer some knowledge for free, you have less knowledge kept in secret,” she says. “Less to negotiate with afterwards. Knowledge builds upon knowledge. If you teach one secret, you point the student to learning the rest.”

In other words: pay to play. Succubus for magic lessons, or no deal.

“And if I were to hypothetically allow myself to be possessssed…”

She says nothing, just smiling and narrowing her eyes. You’re on your own—that knowledge isn’t free, either.

What do you do?
>Trade the succubus for magic lessons
>Try to negotiate a price for assistance in managing the succubus’ gifts [what do you offer?]
>Discuss another matter [what subject?]
>Leave—there’s nothing more to discuss with this beast, if she won’t help you
>Write-in
>>
>>4886264
>Pay the asking price
Don't want to look cheap after bragging about our big money connections

Ok so for the fox, these are the options we had to offer last thread when we first met her:

>Edwin’s gold, in bulk
>Magical artefacts from the excavation
>The heart of a human male, like in some of the grimmer tales [whose?]
>A place in a Reptilian new world order
>An opportunity to participate in Bianchi’s ritual
>A job for Engelson Storehouse Company
>Yourself [seduction attempt, DC ???]

Ourselves is out because she's better, unless we let the succ possess us

She already participated in the ritual

I don't think she'd be too interested in a mundane job for a storehouse company

A place in the new world order goes against THE MISSION

Edwin's gold in bulk also jeopardizes what we have, whether we can even get it or not

So that leaves magic artifacts or hearts. I wonder how she feels about wererat hearts?

>Try to negotiate a price for assistance in managing the succubus’ gifts [what do you offer?]

maybe uh try to scope out how she feels about wererat hearts and offer them if positively?
>>
>>4886264
>Pay the asking price
Tell him that if the deal is successful, we expect a lower price for this stuff. So we don't look like a total addict willing to pay his high prices.
>>4886265
>Tell her we must think about it, it's not an easy thing to part with such power
Find a safe place so we can make a pact with Irinnile... and let's fuck this fox over. Get demon to swear not to spill beans, to be loyal to us and to help us pay this furfag for being an ass.

This is just an idea, this demon thing is hard to decide, even though I don't want her to possess us or abuse her power.
>>
>>4886264
>Haggle it lower

If only to gain some more experience in haggling.

>>4886265
>Try to negotiate a price for assistance in managing the succubus’ gifts [Another succubus]

Bianchi will find us another succubus for you, foxy. He is like a thirsting man who had his first taste of water, he won't stop. And I'm willing to throw in the hearts of my enemies on the side as well.

I would love some magic lessons, and I love foxy's characterization, but our dream makes me hesitant to give up our demon just yet, the fool I may be for following the lessons of a dream.
>>
>>4886792
No offense, but you might be as obsessed with your interpretation of that dream as I am with not using the succubus.
>>
SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS
>>
>>4886883
Probably. But if this was given to us by our Dark Gods, I don't think we should dismiss it outright.

But that could just be the obsession talking.
>>
>>4886883
>>4886792
>>4886772
>>4886382

Having already paid a good portion of your 'allowance from Edwin to restock your shirin supply, you find yourself loathe to give into the fox-woman without at least a bit of haggling.

“I may need time to think about it…”

The fox-woman says nothing.

“It iss no ssmall thing to part with ssuch power…”

Still nothing. No tells at all! But she doesn't seem bothered.

“I've heard tales that your kind sseek the heartss of human men,” you muse aloud, taking a shot in the dark. “What of wereratss?”

“What-rats?” she asks. At first you think it's a pun, a quip, but she seems legitimately confused. “You mean to say… Some sort of rat-spirit?”

“Human men, who become ratss,” you offer.

The fox-woman wrinkles her nose in distaste. “Even in my youth, I did not scavenge on garbage.”

That's out, then. You've never heard her voice such eloquent disapproval—it might be the most emotion you've seen her display, outside of sexual intercourse, or perhaps the first time she heard of the succubus.

Well, that eaves one more option:

“What if I were to offer you a different ssucubuss?” you suggest.

“I am here for a week and five days, unless the bakeneko extend our stay,” she says. “If you are so confident that you or your human boy can find a succubus in that time, I accept… But then, how long will we have for lessons?”

She tilts her head in mock-sadness at the idea, though her smile quickly returns.

“Maybe give Irinnile to me…” You feel the incense-container shift slightly at the name, as if fidgeting in eagerness or discomfort. “…And you and the young master may find another for yourself, once I am gone?”

What do you do?
>Trade Irinnile for magic lessons
>Leave to attend to other matters in Hawksong, before your shift tonight
>Leave to consult with Lord Bianchi at his residence
>Leave to consult with Irinnile, one more time
>Make another counteroffer [what?]
>Write-in
>>
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>>4886897
>>
>>4887284
>Leave to consult with Lord Bianchi at his residence
>Leave to consult with Irinnile, one more time

Lets see if we can consult them before we decide tomorrow. Time is a wasting, and I want to utilize as much of foxy's time and experience as we can if we're going down this route.
>>
>>4887284
>Leave to consult with Lord Bianchi at his residence
>Leave to consult with Irinnile, one more time

I feel like even with the risks of possession the payoff is way higher than mere magic lessons
>>
“I’ll deccide tomorrow,” you tell the fox-woman, who simply nods, smiles, and watches as you depart.>Make another counteroffer [what?]

Your mind races. Can the magic lessons really offer the same promise of power as the succubus did? Probably not, but can you even TRUST such promises? Certainly, the magic lessons carry less risk…

You find that your feet have carried you to Lord Bianchi’s residence. An old human male stands guard at the gate, a sign of the decrepitude which ahs gradually seeped into the state. He looks wiry, tough, possibly once-muscular, but you feel you could probably take him in a fight if you had to. No exceptional guard, he.

“I’m here to ssee the masster of the housse,” you announce yourself. “Tell him Issmena Rosssgard is here.”

The old man bows his head in acknowledgement and leaves you unsupervised; he has no secondary guard to watch or to relieve him, it seems. You note this for future reference, but you are too distracted to idly plot and scheme break-ins right now: you wonder how long it takes to prepare a ritual to summon a succubus.

The old man returns and beckons you t follow. You oblige, and arrive in a mess of papers and books you could generously characterize as a study. Among the usual demonological texts and handwritten research notes, you see Bianchi has acquired a few books on arms, armour, and magic items through the centuries.

“Miss Rosgard,” he greets you without looking up. “What brings you back to my humble abode so very quickly, and without forewarning?”

Nice to him, too. “I wass in the area, and thought I’d check up on you. Ssee if last night took too much out of you…?”

The old attendant clears his throat and shuffles off to offer you two privacy, clearly misinterpreting the remark as something less occult and more lascivious than it truly is.

“A slight hangover, easily remedied with sleep and tea,” Bianchi dismisses your concern, glaring at you. “I’d be infinitely better ahd you not destroyed the succubus.”

“There was nothing elssse that could be done,” you say kindly, keeping to your earlier lie. “But you can always ssummon another, yes?”

“Theoretically,” he grumbles. “Demons’ true names aren’t easy to come by, you know. And most that one finds… Are already in use. You cannot summon a demon already in the bindings of another master.”

Interesting, and duly noted!

“I’d also need a container which won’t break, as the incense-container did. I’m not sure what that would entail, yet. My research never indicated that such a situation was probably, even with weak materials… And, of course, cold iron is right out. Burns the bloody beasts.”

“Hypothetically,” you muse aloud, “if you WERE to ssummon and trap another… What would you do? How would you bind it in a way it couldn’t weassel itss way out of?”
>>
Bianchi scoffs, but cannot resist the chance to show off his intellect to an appreciative audience. “Simple commands. One command at a time. A demon will always try to break a contract and to escape or exact vengeance, but if you give your slave less rope, they’re less likely to form a noose to hang you.”

You nod. It makes sense, including in light of what Irinnile itself said.

“And then?” you ask.

Bianchi nods to the book of magical artefacts. Perhaps he hopes to summon forth more than shiny baubles and family heirlooms from his dreams?

“How long do you think it will take you to find another?’ you ask.

Bianchi shrugs, and returns to his studies. “Less time fi you leave and let me focus, woman. But… Probably by month’s end, I’d wager?”

Altogether too long to be able to sell a second succubus to the fox-woman, then. You take your leave of the Bianchi estate, wandering side streets until you can take refuge behind a stylish topiary in a neighbour’s yard. Only then, shielded from scrutiny and with no apparent patrols of private or public guards, do you take out the incense-container which habours Irinnile the Succubus.

You attempt to enter the same trance-like state as before, finding it harder to focus outdoors than in a theoretically-private residence. Afternoon is turning slowly towards evening, though, and you have little time before you must attend to work at The Pretty Kitty or be noted absent by Mina. You eventually find your focus, and subsequently Irinnile’s energy.

“Irinnile,” you begin, “have you been lisstening?”

“Tough not to, trapped in this dull little pot and with nothing else to do all day,” the demon complains.

“I’d have your thoughtss on the matter,” you say.

“Bianchi’s gonna’ be maaad when he finds out you stole me from him,” it taunts. “Though I can’t say his plans for me sound to fun, really, so I’m sorta’ glad you did.”

“And what of the foxxx-woman?” you ask, curious. “Should I ssimply trade you to her.”

“What? No!” she says.

“Wouldn’t a foxxx-woman be fun?” you press. “Don’t they often do jussst what you ssuccubi do?”

“I don’t eat hearts, okay? I make dreams come true… Then I suck out all the yummy psychic juices. People usually don’t even die for a good long while! And they’re happy when they do. I’m practically on the side of angels!”

“Sso you drain life-forcce out of altruism,” you say dully. “Yess. Right. Well, good newss, then! This foxxx-woman issn’t often eating men these daysss, or sso she ssaysss.”

Irinnile still hesitates tor espond, and you can sense the trepidation.

“You think I’d be eassier to posssesss,” you guess.

“No-oooo.”
>>
>>4888180

You start to put the incense-container back in your pack.


“Wait!” Irinnile says. “Okay, maybe, yeah. Or at least… More fun. More like someone I could help out, work together with. Foxy Fear-east there is too eager. Too old. She’s just gonna’ use me like a tool, which can be hot… But I’m more of a sexy little assistant. We could make some beautiful music together, me and you. She’s just gonna’ have me playing her tune.”

What do you do?
>Place the incense container back in the bag for now, and head to work
>Ask Irinnile something else [specify what]
>Attempt to make a pact with Irinnile to release her from the containe r[specify etrms]
>Offer Irinnile the opportunity to possess you [specify terms]
>Write-in
>>
>>4888184
>Ask Irinnile something else [specify what]
Say we got off on the wrong foot and point out that if it wasn't for us, she'd be mass-producing sex dolls for Bianchi now. We didn't even wanna trap her in this container, simply had no alternative (getting possessed wasn't ever an option, we're not stupid, alright).

Ask if we both can come to a better for her agreement. If she doesn't wanna suck off Foxxy for the next few years and be bound to this "dull little pot", then we could theoretically find her someone easy to possess.
In exchange we get an honest consultation about our dream, a compensation for lost fox-lessons (in case she doesn't know much about illusion, we can work something out later), information about fox woman (Irinnile seems wary of her, despite being a demon) and maybe something else later. It's not a bad deal for being offered a body to occupy.

Keep this conversation sexual or throw in sex jokes. She seems to be insatiably horny, which is a way for us to get advantage while talking to her.
>>
>>4888184
>>4888377
I wanna specify that this isn't a pact thing yet, just a conversation to work out a deal with her. Maybe even get friendly.
Do we know how does a demonic possession work and whether a demon is capable of pretending to be the person whose body they wear?

>>4887459
Okay, so hear me out. While I'm against using Ismena's body like it was nothing, I think it would be nice to have a friendly secks demon on our side, wearing someone else's skin.
I don't know how doable is befriending a demon, but Irinnile's hypersexual personality seems like a good thing to focus on while trying to get on good terms with her.
On a completely unrelated note, how expendable is Agatha to us?
>>
>>4888184
>>Place the incense container back in the bag for now, and head to work
>>
>>4888377
Support.

I'm fine with talking with her and hashing things out, just make sure we aren't late for our shift.

>>4888402
Possession would be a general powerup, and generally advantageous, but I'm not opposed to having an assistant help us, it certainly would be a godsend. Does she need to wear somebody's skin though? Couldn't she just change her form into something hot but inconspicuous? Would be a shame to waste all that time and effort we invested in her, really. Don't we have the pick of the litter when it come's to possession? We could take a longshot and try and possess foxy's body, as much of a shame that would be.
>>
>>4888184
>Place the incense container back in the bag for now, and head to work

I guess we should spend all our spare time researching ways to bind demons

How bad are demons in this setting btw OP? On a scale of manga "they were the real good guys all along" to the bible?
>>
>>4889245
>>4888911
>>4888839
>>4888402
>>4888377

“Maybe we got off on the wrong foot,” you say, attempting a diplomatic approach.

“Oh?” Irinnile replies.

“Without me, you’d sstill be with Bianchi making…” You pause, and decide to try to speak a language she understands. “Sssex dolls or ssomething.”

“Oooo, imagine THAT. All that pent up passion and frustration being pumped into my ectoplasmic constructs… I’m tingling!”

Well that backfired.

“…Or with the fox-woman. And who knowss what SHE has in-sstore for you?”

That shuts the demon up. You continue to speak to her quietly as you begin walking towards work. No reason to be late because of a little parley.

“What I’m getting at iss that there’ss no reason you need to be trapped in that ‘dull little pot’. What if we found a way to work together after all?”

“Such as?”

“Ssomeone easily posssesssed. Or a physssical body all your won, but one in sservicce to me?”

“Either! Both!” Irinnile stops and thinks. “I mean, I can do either. How much do you know about demons, anyway, Lispy?”

Precious little beyond what you’ve studied with Bianchi, you must inwardly admit. They’re parasitic creatures that feed on the psychic and vital forces of mortals, acting sometimes as terrors, sometimes as tempters, and sometimes as tiny, false godlings. The literature in Hawksong’s Royal Library is almost uniformly negative, and also gives them a great deal more credit than you really think they deserve; you can only imagine what they would write of your vastly superior Dark Gods. Lord Bianchi’s private collection builds upon what a few more neutral passages in the library alluded to: demons can be useful in the right hands, and have been bound and used by wizards and learned kings alike in ancient days, falling out of favour with the rise of the current churchly and paladin-led order. Certainly, you know that the serpent priests are no stranger to occasional deals of this ilk, though such matters are well outside the purview of a half-human degenerate of Silkscale lineage.

“What’s the differencce?” you ask. “What are the benefitss and downssidess of each option?”

“Oh, well, ya’ know….” Irinnile trails off, then giggles. “Dealer’s choice?”

She’s not exactly being helpful so, despite a truncated protest from the succubus, you slip her container back into your bag and finish your trek to The Pretty Kitty in silence, save for your thoughts.

You change into your Kamunu clothing, and you knock on the door to Mina’s office. She opens the door, and you slip inside and take your seat. You keep your pack near you; you need to risk Irinnile falling into anyone else’s clutches before you decide what to do with her.
>>
>>4889301
“It’s a party tonight,” the cat-madam announces, once pleasantries are out of the way.

“Issn’t every night?” you joke.

“A bachelor party,” she clarifies, not missing a beat (though you see her tail twitch in mild annoyance. “A few adventurers, one of whom is to wed some Hawksong girl. They’re fat with gold from robbing some tomb somewhere, and they’re keen to spend it on showing the groom-to-be a good time.”

It seems Red Annie is to go with you… And Grendelia’s been requested as well. You recognize the theme: the most exotic girls available, after a fashion. Annie is a human female, but she styles herself a roguish pirate wench. You’re ‘kamaunu’, the ‘dessert princess’ with magic and a strange accent. And Grendelia…

Is Grendelia actually a good idea, after last time? You can tell by Mina’s phrasing—‘Grendelia was also requested’—that she isn’t sold on sending her.

What do you do?
>Bring Grendelia and Red Annie
>Suggest Grendelia sit this one out, and bring someone else instead [any suggestions?]
>Ask for more details about the job or the clients [specify]
>Turn the job down, claiming to feel ill; you have demonology to read up on, damnit!
>Write-in
>>
>>4889305
>Bring Grendelia and Red Annie

We'll talk to Grendelia personally about it, maybe pep talk her a bit. If she loses her nerve yet again, we'll end Edwin's date night with a nice present to him.
>>
>>4889305
>Suggest Grendelia sit this one out, and bring someone else instead
Why not... Mina?
Ignore this vote if Kamunu knows it would insult the pretty kitty brothel mama. I don't know enough myself to tell.
>Ask for more details about the job or the clients
Who is the Hawksong girl?

>>4888911
Hold up. The way I understand it, is that we could use our body as a Container and the Possession is a RISK. Irinnile has clearly shown her urge to do the latter to us, admitting that we'd be easier target than Foxy if we let a demon occupy our body. What Ismena said also implies that Irinnile can drain life-force out of possessed individual.
Based on this I don't want Ismena to take the risk just to obtain the power of futa, vacuum blowjob and extra anal capacity.

I guess we can let her manifest her own body, but only if she can look like a human. We can also ask if it wouldn't be more fun for her to possess a girl we offer and use her body for succubi shananigans.
>>
>>4889693
>>4889443
>Who is the Hawksong girl?

“Who’ss the lucky lady?” you ask.

Mina shrugs. “She didn’t pay us.”

“But you must have ssome idea,” you press, curious.

“Some innkeeper’s daughter,” Mina says. “Why?”

It’s your turn to shrug. Your mind still fixates on the possibilities of the succubus, but you can hardly tell Mina you’re mulling over possible sacrifices to demonic possession.

>Why not... Mina?
>Bring Grendelia and Red Annie

“Me?” Mina asks, eyes actually noticeably widening in surprise.

“You have the exxxpriencce, and Grendelia might benefit from ssome… Tutelage.”

Mina actually seems to be mulling it over, and she reaches for her pipe. You step over to help pack it for her.

“I suppose that Felia could manage tonight well enough…”

She lights the pipe and puffs on it a couple times, then growls irritably.

“No, I’m too old for that shit, even if the clients requested a… Beast-woman. My performing days are behind me. Just take good care of Grendelia—we can’t afford to lose another reliable girl around here right now.”

You nod.
What do you do?
>Continue to press for Mina to come along [specify how]
>Let sleeping cats lie and move onto the gig
>Ask further questions [such as?]
>Write-in
Sorry for short update, anons. I'm feeling super shitty today, and think I may be sick or something
>>
>>4890242
>Let sleeping cats lie and move onto the gig

sending positive vibes your way OP
>>
>>4890242
>Continue to press for Mina to come along
Compliment her seductively. Make the kitty purr.
She is the only other "exotic" available at TPK.

I hope you feel better soon, RQM. Don't feel like you owe us anything, if you get sick we will wait.
>>
>>4890242
>Continue to press for Mina to come along [Compliment her beauty and experience]

Not too hard though, make it a passing comment.

>Let sleeping cats lie and move onto the gig

I hope you feel better soon mate.
>>
>>4890822
>>4890667
>>4890330

“Come now,” you say, placing a hand gently on her shoulder, “you’re sstill plenty ‘exxxotic’. And a fine catch! I’m ssure that if that’ss what they want…”

Mina brushes your hand away. “There’s exotic like you, and exotic like me, Kamunu. Get the girls, and get going.”

You nod. No need to press the matter, after all—it’s a vote of confidence to put you de facto in-charge of yet another ‘mission’. You make to leave her office.

“Thank you, though,” she says.

You pause, and throw her a smile and a nod before leaving the smokey office.

When you get to the carriage, Red Annie and Grendelia are waiting. Grendelia’s face is still a little bruised, but the stitching on her split eyebrow and the sullen expression on her tusked face only serve to accentuate her orcishness. Red Annie ahs amped it up, too: a half-open, billowy silk dress that barely prevents a nipple from peaking over unawares, a corset which raises the bust to further hint at such a possibility, a dulled (?) cutlass on her side, and a bandana wrapped around her hair with a skull and-corssed-sabres motif. VERY piratical. And did she get her hair done up?

The carriage driver tonight is a professional-looking human gent with black hair, dark blue eyes, and a pale complexion, in one of the black-and-brown coaches with the Hawksong city crest of the side which you have seen around town. Annie informs you that they tend to ferry minor nobles and merchants on nights about town. You realize where you’ve seen them: these conveyances carry a good many men to and for from the Red Lantern District, presumably with some discretion.

Grendelia is quiet—but what else is new?—and Red Annie chatty. The latter seems especially excited about one of the men you’re to see today: Dirk Enfield, a noted ‘celebrity’ of the adventure scene. That is to say (near as you can make out) not a pure adventurer in the traditional ‘murder hobo’ mercenary warrior-vagabond sense, but one of the ‘adventure tourist’ set which The Grey Press farms for lascivious and lurid tales of exotic locales, pitched battles, and bedded demi-human babes. Annie is apparently an avid reader—she is practically swooning, a side you haven’t seen of the hard-edges and snarky human.

What do you do?
>Give Grendelia a pep-talk
>Ask Red Annie about your clients
>Ask Red Annie if she’s read any of the stories about wererats, and what she thinks of those
>Chat up the carriage-driver; maybe he can tell you a bit about his job, and the connections he makes
>Write-in

Thank you all for the kind words and well-wishes. I feel a bit better!
>>
>>4891362
>Give Grendelia a pep-talk
>Ask Red Annie about your clients
>>
>>4891362
>Give Grendelia a pep-talk
Give her some support and encouragement. Also a friendly bump on a shoulder if we manage to get her to feel more comfortable. The shirin could help her, too.
>Ask Red Annie if she’s read any of the stories about wererats, and what she thinks of those
Try to figure out whether she believes what The Gay Press prints. If she thinks it's all bullshit, then together we might try to sell that guy some stories for the fuck of it. Further build up/reinforce the rat narrative, maybe?
>Offer to share some shirin
But like tiiny amount each, we don't wanna get fucked up or get them addicted by accident. Take a half or third (idk exact amount we have, so whichever works) of what we have and split it between the three.
>>
>>4891650
>>4891398
You can tell Grendelia is still troubled by the events of two nights ago. Unwilling to fail in this mission—petty and mammalian though it is—you can’t afford the liability. Besides, she looks so forlorn that it’s putting YOU off. You scooch in close and nudge her gently to get her attention.

“Hey,” you say, “it’ss a new day, and you’ve got the two of uss here. We have your back, and we’ll sstick together.”

Grendelia says nothing, but smiles slightly. She has a very pretty face, you note, tusks and bruising aside… Well, for a mammal. She has a durable look about her, but not actually a brutal cut. You can see why she’d be requested. You tell her so, and both you and Annie can’t help but snicker when she blushes and mutters her thanks in response.

“These guys are way more your speed, anyway,” Annie reassures your orc-blooded colleague. “They had some sketches in The Grey Press of their half-elf archer and their halfling rogue. You like those skinny, tight-bodied kinds of guys, right?”

Grendelia’s flush deepens, and Annie guffaws. For your part, it explains the mixed reaction to the minotaurs all the better. Annie’s repeated mention of The Grey Press brings your attention back to more urgent matters, though.

“Do you read a lot of their sstufff?” you ask Annie.

“Fuck yeah!” she says. “Who doesn’t love a good adventure tale? Reminds me of the big-fish tales and sea monster stories dad and grandpappa used to tell me, that the sailors and merchants would bring back. Granted… Those had fewer scantily-clad brown elves from faraway jungle kingdoms. Maybe they just don’t like to tell little girls the bits with big-titty mermaids... Or ssexy dessert princcesssesssss.”

You chuckle good-naturedly at her attempt to mimic your accent, and she grins back.

“What about all this bussinessss with the rat-people, and the bodiess in the ssewersss?”

A hush falls over the carriage, and Annie’s face darkens.

“You don’t think that could be what happened to Estellia, do you?” Grendelia asks.

Annie says nothing, but you can tell the thought lingers. Ladies of the night—even ones who don’t work the streets—must feel especially vulnerable to tales of ravening, rapine rat-monsters snatching up human girls, doubly so when they have a missing friend or coworker. At the very least, you deduce that Annie takes the tales—from ‘Goblins Ripped My Flesh!’ to ‘The Rat-Men of the Hawksong Sewers’—quite seriously.

What do you do?
>Offer them some shirin as a pick-me-up
>Change the subject back to adventures and hunky adventurers
>Ask Grendelia her opinion on The Grey Press and rumours of rat-men
>Reassure them that Estellia is alright
>Tell them you have had personal experiences with wererats, and know they're real
>>
>>4891977
>Change the subject back to adventures and hunky adventurers
>Mentally prepare yourself to use magic and pay attention to the street, jusst in casse.
I'll take back that shirin vote, desu. It was dumb and Grendel feels alright now too.
>>
>>4891977
>Reassure them that Estellia is alright
>Change the subject back to adventures and hunky adventurers

>>4892268
It isn't a bad idea, it just wasn't the right time. You don't want to come down from the high just as you join the party.
>>
>>4891977
>Change the subject back to adventures and hunky adventurers

>Reassure them that Estellia is alright

in reverse order. looks like posting is back!
>>
>>4892559
>>4892449
>>4892268

“I’m sure Esstellia is fine,” you say calmly. You at least know she’s not suffering any longer, since you slit her throat and had Roth burn her corpse and all. Sadly, having learned too much about your true nature, it was the best fate she could hope for.

Grendelia and Annie look unconvinced, so you turn the conversation back to a more pleasant subject: “Sso, thesse clientss are… Ccelebritiess?”

“Yeah,” Annie says, grinning slightly. “Oh man, and if they’re anything like their sketches…”

“Which one iss most attractive?” you ask.

“Oh fuck me sideways, if you think LASKAR is dreamy, wait’ll you meet Vanminar!”

The half-elf archer. Of course. You smile and try not to roll your eyes. Human females have such predictable tastes.

Eventually the carriage rolls to a stop at what looks to be some sort of concert hall or theatre for the performing arts. Right now, however, the bleachers are empty save for a few dozen partiers and serving staff. The former are clad in a curious—but trendy, you recognize—mish-mash of formal eveningwear and arms and armaments.

“Almost makes you wish you brought that armour of yours, hey Kamunu?” Red Annie nudges you.

It honestly sort of does. Not only would you fit right in, but you’d have an excuse to strap a blade. Of course, it would seem somewhat insignificant compared to the pearlescent-blue pig-sticker on the side of the broad-chested, lantern-jawed human man who now strides towards you. You get an instant sense that his weapon is enchanted, and from the way Annie is holding back an excited squeal, that must be…

“Dirk Motherfucking ENFIELD!” she squeaks into your ear.

“I’d gathered,” you reply.

“In the flesh,” he says, bowing low with a flourish and shooting Annie a toothy grin. He apprises the three of you, eyes lingering on Grendelia’s face with a difficult-to-gauge expression.

“And you must be the night’s entertainment?” he asks. “Which one of you is the mage?”

“That would be me,” you note. “Kamunu of The Pretty Kitty, illussionisst and danccer.”

“Perfect! And perfectly lovely.” Dirk kisses your hand, and you think Annie might faint. “The groom-to-be is of the same profession, you see—our party’s SORCERER, a man of FABLED draconic lineage and many a perfectly-timed fireball: Orin O’Quill!”

He points you towards a man in a black, star-studded cloak with green-and-blue hair and red eyes—magically augmented? A side-effect of inhuman ancestry? Could he truly be an actual descendant of DRAGONS?—who is already surrounded by guests and at least a couple drinks deep by the looks of things. He’s a little scrawnier than you pictured a hero of (admittedly tabloid-level) legend.
>>
>>4892715
What do you do?
>Chat up Dirk, about his adventures and equipment
>Ask Dirk about his relationship with The Grey Press publishing company
>Go see the groom-to-be
>Excuse yourself to take some shirin
>Politely excuse yourself to start getting ready to take the stage
>Write-in
>>
>>4892718
>Chat up Dirk, about his adventures and equipment
>Go see the groom-to-be

I wanna get an idea of these big, strong adventurers do and deal with, maybe chat them up before our performance. Plus Annie's fangirling is cute.
>>
>>4892718
>Chat up Dirk, about his adventures and equipment
>Bring Annie into the conversation
>Go see the groom-to-be
Let's give her a hand here and find that Orin guy. Gotta investigate that potential draconic lineage.
Let's be modest about our skills to seem like an easy target to impress for him and to have a more impressive entrance later.

There was no mention of clothing or preparation and I thought we had leafweave as a spare by default tonight. Dammit.
In the future can we always carry the Alchemically-Treated™ Leafweave Armor at night, unless specified otherwise?

Also, can we drop by the shop where we bought it BETWEEN other errands? We still gotta pay our dues and it shouldn't take long, unless that elf girl gets a stuttering attack.
>>
>>4893156
>There was no mention of clothing or preparation and I thought we had leafweave as a spare by default tonight. Dammit.
In the future can we always carry the Alchemically-Treated™ Leafweave Armor at night, unless specified otherwise?

Alas, probably not. It is still a full-body suit of armour. You can’t easily carry it around town, and certainly not inconspicuously in your current backpack.

>Also, can we drop by the shop where we bought it BETWEEN other errands?
If people would like to, certainly!
>>
>>4892814
>>4893156
“That’ss quite the piecce of equipment you’re sswinging there,” you say with a smirk, nodding at Dirk’s sword. “Iss that… Enchanted?”

“Ha! Good eye, Miss Kamunu. Why yes, yes it is. I took it from the snow-golem guardian of the Frostmaiden of the Dread Fjord, when I was liberating the village of Allyearfalling in the far north.”

You nod along, but a lto of it goes over your ehad. You could piece the exploits together from the rather on-the-nose names, but on the other hand…

“Red Annie, do you know thisss tale?” you ask her.

“DO I?” she surges forwards. “Is the version from the Gray press true? Like, all of it?”

“Why… Uhh… Yes! Yes is it,” Dirk says with a practiced, is slightly artificial, champion’s grin.

“Even the bit about huddling with the lost village chieftain’s daughter for warmth during the blizzard?” she asks, waggling her eyebrows.

Dirk coughs a couple times, and reaches out to secure a beverage from a passing servant’s tray. He swigs it down, and takes a breath.

“Well,” he admits, “maybe they embellish a little, now and again.”

“How about ‘Return from the Swamp of No Return?’” Annie asks.

“Well—”

“Ooo, did Vanminar really ‘redeem’ the dark elf cult-mistress from ‘The Man-hating Witches of Blackcavern’?”

“I need to have a talk with Underhead about his travelogue writers…” Dirk Enfield chuckles.

You listen to this increasingly flirtatious exchange—seems like a rapscallion of the seas like Red annie feels she could o with some ‘redeeming’, too—until you can make a graceful exit. When you are able to do so, you cats your gaze about for the groom-to-be, the allegedly-draconic Orin O’Quill. You find him before too long, thanks in no small part to his unusual colouration.

“Misster O’Quill?” you greet him.

“Soon of Mister-and-Missus O’Quill, yeah,” he replies, with a wistful smile, before looking you up and down. “You the, uh… Entertainment?”

You smile and tilt your head in acknowledgment. “Apparently ssspecially for you.”

He flushes a little. “Pardon me?”

You weave a little matrix of rainbow colour and light between your fingers, though without careful focus it sparks, sputters, and dissipates in an instant.

“Kamunu of The Pretty Kitty, amateur mage and professssional… Danccer. At your sservicce.”

“Oh!” O’Quill laughs. “Yes, I see. Well, thank you for your service.”

What do you do?
>Ask about his alleged draconic heritage
>As about his adventures and his spellcasting specialties
>Ask if he’s ever had dealings with demons
>Ask if he’s ever had dealings with far-eastern beastwomen
>Ask if he wants to go somewhere private before the show [seduction]
>Write-in
>>
>>4893440
>Ask whether what Dirk said about perfect fireball timing is true
>Ask about his alleged draconic heritage
>Ask if he’s ever had dealings with far-eastern beastwomen

I feel like he might appreciate some conversation more than a cheap seduction. Let's act genuinely interested in whatever he has to say, but not obsessed like Rannie is with Dirk.
>>
>>4893440
>Ask about his alleged draconic heritage
>As about his adventures and his spellcasting specialties
>Ask if he’s ever had dealings with far-eastern beastwomen

We can talk of demons and a little light seduction after our entertainment.
>>
>>4893814
+1
>>
>>4893440
>As about his adventures and his spellcasting specialties
>Ask if he’s ever had dealings with demons

ANy experience dealing with SUCCS and how safe is it to let one possess you
>>
>>4893895
>>4893853
>>4893814
>>4893741

“I hear you have a pretty impressssive knack for fireballss,” you say, tone casual and conversational. You’re no fangirl. “Any truth to that?”

He shrugs. “When all you have is a hammer…”

“All your problemss sstart to look highly flammable?”

You both laugh. The self-deprecating comment reminds you a bit of Roth’s approach to problem-solving. Good old firebreathing, dragonblooded Roth.

You lean a little closer, asking conspiratorially: “Iss it true you’re descended from a dragon?”

O’Quill takes another drink and laughs. “Is that what our fearless leader is still telling people?”

“Iss it not true?” you ask.

He takes another drink, and avoid eye contact. You don’t say anything else, however, and Orin O’Quill lacks the finesse and confidence to segue a conversation as gracefully as his handsome and well-spoken party leader.

“I don’t know… Maybe? My father was never around much as a child… He didn’t like to talk about his past. And then, well…”

O’Quill gestures to his hair and eyes.

“I’m good with elemental magic, especially fire. That much is true. The rest… As with so much of what you may have read of me, that’s a compromise between Dirk and the publicists.”

O’Qill sighs and takes another drink, before setting his glass on the chair beside him and taking a seat. “He gets to be a big hero who beds all the sometimes-fictitious princesses and barbarian elves, and I get to be captured, riddle with demons, and throw fireballs to clear out the rabble so he can decapitate the nine-foot-tall big boss of the enemy horde.”

You sit down next to him and nudge him gently. He reminds you a little of Edwin, albeit without the latter’s physical charms, and a bit too self-pitying. Curious, given how much more successful O’Quill is in their shared area of interest than your favoured boytoy.

“You’re beating him to the altar, though,” you note. You understand the mating-bond of ‘marriage’ to be a bit of a socially-elevating act, among the ape-folk.

O’Quill shrugs, but smiles. “I am. I suppose being the mysterious and spooky dragon-blooded bookworm nets fewer groupies than our illustrious hero… But that also means more room to actually find someone you genuinely care for.”

Somehow, that sentiment makes you uneasy. You decide not to examine the feeling, not right now… But you also decide to seduce him AFTER the show, if you choose to go that route.
>>
>>4893935
You turn the conversation towards the beastwomen of the east. “You know, foxxx-women and ssuch.”

This sudden topic change surprises the mage. “What? Beast-women? Why the interest?”

“Well, I DO work for one,” you say with an easy smile.

“The differences between us go more than skin-deep, I’ll say that much,” he says. “A human from the east is a human, in my experience. Weird ideas, funny manners, bit of an odd common-tongue, but you can anticipate what they’ll do and more or less understand why they do it. The instincts of someone or someTHING like a cat-man, a gnoll, a minotaur… They might as well be lizardmen. Even when they aren’t trying to kill you or sacrifice you to a demon, you’re still always at cross-purposes.”

You nod slowly, and thank him for the insight. Before you can carry on the conversation, however, you feel a heavy hand on your shoulder. It’s Grendelia, who looks apologetic to interrupt. You immediately understand, though: it’s time for your dance. Laskar isn’t present tonight, so it seems you’ll be doing your best to perform to the tunes of the human bard who travels with the party you’re here to amuse—a man who doesn’t know your usual routines.

What do you do?
>Try your best to do your usual set, and instruct the other girls to do the same
>Attempt to tailor your performances to the music
>Go as raunchy and revealing as possible; sex sells, and nobody will care about your technical aptitude if you slip some nipple in
>Every girl for herself—let the other two go first, and bring up the rear with the benefit of their failures
>Amp up a group performance with a glamour, to make you all look like superstars
>Write-in
>>
>>4893936
>Amp up a group performance with a glamour, to make you all look like superstars

adventurers tip big right
they make it rain gold coins
>>
>>4893936
>Amp up a group performance with a glamour, to make you all look like superstars
>>
>>4893936
>>Amp up a group performance with a glamour, to make you all look like superstars
>>
>>4893936
>Amp up a group performance with a glamour, to make you all look like superstars
Don't forget the fire(works) for the groom.
That raunchy choice seemed unexpectedly out of place, lol.
>>
File: 5dice-bigger.png (89 KB, 1200x675)
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Rolled 3, 19, 15, 7, 1 = 45 (5d20)

>>4894703
>That raunchy choice seemed unexpectedly out of place, lol.

It was not so long ago that the Infiltrator resolved a morale dilemma and secured a business meeting with a threesome and butt-stuff.

Rolling for magic and dance!
>>
>>4894825
I know, but our current job is rather tame so far and even Ismena's previous dances at TPK weren't that perverted iirc.

>3,1
Please tell me it's a best of 5 for illusion combo.
>>
>>4894825
You and the other girls gather backstage, amongst a smattering of old stage props and instruments. You expect them to be nervous, but Annie is amped, and Grendelia is at the very least no more sullen than she was on the ride over.

“What’ss the plan?” you ask, in case either of the others might have one.

“Our usual routine, right?” Red Annie asks.

“No Laskar,” Grendelia points out.

Annie scoffs. “What, the minstrel-hero of ‘Surprised by Sea-Serpents!!’ can’t do a sea-shanty?”

“We’re not all, uh, nautical,” Grendelia points out.

“Well… They also were the ones in ‘Against the Orcish Horde’?”

“Probably didn’t finish that one with a dance number.”

You can tell Annie’s ‘assurances’ are only getting Grendelia more concerned, and anyway, asking themw as merely a formality. You already have a plan.

“Girlss, girlss,” you interject, placing a hand on each of their backs. “Both of you, up on sstage with me. I have a plan.”

Grendelia looks even more nervous now, remembering your initial performance together at the Eastern Standard event two nights ago. You flash her a smile and wiggle your fingers in a way you hope implies ‘illusion magic’. Whether the others get it or not, it is a testament to your status and the confidence they have in you that they follow you onto the stage without further question.

The adventurers’ party bard has been warming up the crowd, who cheer raucously. The musician is signing ‘Far and Away (But I’ll Come Back to You)’—a sappy romantic ballad about glorious adventure and young love, popular in taverns as Annie explains it. It may be the drinks, or the matrimony they’re here to celebrate, or it may be that most in attendance are fans and hirelings, but the human male’s rendition is a hit. He changes tunes got something more instrumental to announce the lot of you, and it’s a lot bigger and bolder than you’re used to. It’s more a fanfare or a tune to fight to than the complex interwoven rhythms which lascar weaves to accentuate your movements.

That’s fine, though. You, Grendelia, and ed Annie? You can work with bold.
>>
>>4894856
You move to centre stage, and the other dancers follow your lead. You close you eyes and tap your foot, swaying hips and popping booty until you can get into a rhythm and find your focus. When you open your eyes again, you will them to project a field of glamour. You begin a dance of heavy footfalls, fast twirls, body rolls and rocking hips, making war and making love to the crowd in rhythm to the music. Your cohorts have a few false starts keeping up with you, but the same glamour which so holds the crowd rapt also seems to help Annie and Grendelia follow your impromptu choreography to a degree which makes it look ALMOST planned.

However, in the crowd you can see that Both O’Quill and Enfield are standing next to each other at the back. Their attention is on you, but O’Quill has a faint glimmer about his ears and eyes, and Dirk Enfield is wearing a slightly effete diadem of some sort, with a glowing sapphire at the centre. Neither seems entirely taken in by the glamour, though they both still seem at least amused and entertained by the performance proper. Curious…

You employ a few pops of colour, flickers of light and dark and various colors across the stage. They paid for a mage, and they get their money's worth. You and your troupe each take a turn at centre stage, your swirling waves of colour sliding sinfully over their bodies to accentuate their best physical features and to punctuate their movements. When you return to the centre, you are best and last. You finish your performance by meeting Orin O'Quill's eyes over your shoulder, bending low and swaying your hips and rear in your most historically crowd-pleasing manner, and then flipping your hair up and releasing the gathered magical energies in an upward explosion of colour, light, and emotion which fills the room with fox-fire.

You draw gasps, and then applause, as well as the usual cat-calls which let you know you got the ‘exotic’ part of exotic dancing right. No coins being hurled onto the stage, though, to your surprise an annoyance. Aren't adventures supposed to be spendthrifts?

What next?
>Go speak to the adventurers [about what?]
>Beckon Orin O'Quill to speak to him alone [about what?]
>Raise a stink about the lack of tipping
>Mingle with the crowd and get some drinks
>Talk to the girls about your next set
>Do a bump of shirin
>Write-in
>>
>>4894855
>Please tell me it's a best of 5 for illusion combo
Luckily, yeah.
>>
>>4894857
>Mingle with the crowd and get some drinks
>Go speak to the Orin/Dirk
We should ask them why would they hire an illusionist if they're gonna protect themselves from effects. Also is that a mfucking illusion-breaking diadem.
>>
>>4894880
+1

But we should coordinate with the girls before the next set.
>>
>>4895388
>>4894880
>>4894858
You circle around the back, giving Red Annie a soft hip-check on your way by.

“When’ss the nexxxt sset?”

Annie shrugs. “How should I know? When they start playin’ our song again, I guess?”

“I’ll let you know,” Grendelia says, ever responsible, and seemingly a little shy to mingle. It’s useful to your end, though—you’re not shy at all, and you have some questions for the adventurers.

You scoop up a mug of mead to sip, but immediately regret it. It isn’t like the brandy you had before, distilled and foul but with a pleasant burn and fairly potent effects. The mead is liquid bread, and tastes as foul as any other grain product to your carnivorous palate. You keep it as a conversational prop while you chat up the adventurers’ hangers-on, who are all EXCEEDINGLY eager to talk to you. You let the glamour drop, but it seems to memory of your impressive performance, further augmented as if by instantaneous nostalgia, has made you almost as big a draw to thee veritable sheep at their globetrotting celebrity crushes…

But then, they aren’t wearing motherfucking illusion-breaking diadems, are they?

“Do you know what Orin’ss wearing?” you ask one of the super-fans, a youngish, spectacled halfling woman with mussed brown hair. “I… Don’t recall it from the stories I’ve read.”

“Oh, you never read ‘Journey to the Centre of the Soul’?”

“I can’t ssay as I have,” you truthfully admit.

“There was this soul-stealing cult that was feeding, like, a big demon for… Well, I don’t think they ever said why. Probably something big and bad, ‘cause what else do you feed demons souls for? Anyway, there was this beautiful princess… or, well, like, a minor noble, but they always all them princesses… And She was so moved by Dirk’s heroism that she gave him that diadem, which had protected her from their brainwashing charms! They would have got married but… Well, you know Dirk.”

“Yess, I know good old Dirk,” you say with a smile, and pass her your mug. She looks confused, but you leave before she can say anything else. You have eyes only for Dirk Enfield and Orin O’Quill, now.
>>
>>4895790
“Hey boyss,” you say. “Enjoyed the show?”

“Absolutely!” Enfield says, boisterous by nature or by inebriation. He slams a hand down on your shoulder, almost toppling you over as he leans a bit too much weight on you. “You’re a real performer, a real SHOWSTOPPER< and I’ve seen a few in my day.”

“Quite, uh, adept charmwork,” Orin says more conservatively, though his eyes are all over you. The performance obviously had an affect on mister groom-to-be, whatever countercharm he worked.

“Really?” you ask innocently, affecting a pout. “Sseemss sstrange to hire an illusionist jusst to protect yoursselvess from the effectss. Did you even ssee the fireworkss?”

“Oh!” Orin says, realizing his faux pas. “I, uh…”

“The Crown of the Sheltered Soul, and my loyal mage’s enchantment I assume, don’t hide or penetrate illusions, Miss Kamunu,” Dirk talks over Orin. “They just…”

“Keep us sharp,” Orin finishes.

“Can never be too careful, in our line of work,” Dirk says with an overwrought wink.

So it can guard against mind-affecting, or emotion-affecting, spellcraft… But not see through an illusion or negate it. You think you get it…

“Miss Kamunu,” Dirk says. “If I’m not too bold, and I CAN be quite bold… What is your going rate?”

Ah. You weren’t just hired on as an illusionist and dancer, then.

“Well…” you begin.

“Not for me,” Dirk interjects, sticking chin up and out in a manner a drunken man might consider heroic or noble. “No, I am feeling generous. For my faithful sorcerer!”

Orin’s eyes go wide and his face red. “Wh—no WhAT I… I’m getting married!”

“Not until the end of the week,” the warrior says with a wide grin and a nudge.

Orin O’Quill looks desperately between the two of you and the room at large, as if seeking an escape route.

What do you do?
>Politely decline
>Accept some payment in coin, and escort O’Quill backstage
>”My price is to try on that fanccccy diadem of yourss” [persuasion roll]
>”My price iss that you come, too” [seduction roll]
>Gracefully change the subject to matters of the demon cult and other such relevant adventuring
>Splash a beer in the presumptive man’s face
>Write-in
>>
>>4895792
>”My price is to try on that fanccccy diadem of yourss” [persuasion roll]

I want it. I want it bad.

>Gracefully change the subject to matters of the demon cult and other such relevant adventuring

Still interested in this. Half tempted to splash the beer in his face, just to be unpredictable.
>>
>>4895792
>”My price is to try on that fanccccy diadem of yourss” [persuasion roll]

he'll probably be more amenable to talking about demons after fucking
>>
Rolled 11, 19, 12 = 42 (3d20)

>>4896121
>>4895861
>>
>>4896341

“My price is to try on that fanccccy diadem of yourss,” you say smoothly, unable to tear your eyes away from the glimmering, oh-so-promising sapphires for long.

“What?” the swordsman asks, a little taken aback by the boldness of the request.

“It’s really not necessary…” the mage says, still avoiding eye contact with anyone.

Dirk Enfield hesitates to reply, but eventually laughs. “I like your spunk, Miss Kamunu. I suspect it’ll look better on you than me…”

He grins and nudges his companion in the ribs. “…And now you can get a feel for what it’s like to be the one all the lady readership constantly ask to call them ‘princess’, huh?”

Orin says nothing as Dirk sets the diadem upon your head. You instantly feel the hum of power—not fire, not lightning, not vibration, but the sort of dull permeating hum of a cool drink of water on a warm day. You feel… Clarity.

Dirk Enfield looks around to make sure nobody is paying attention, then gives your rear a firm pat and a squeeze. “Now show the man a good time, if you would. And don’t forget to return that when you’re done!”

Orin O’Quill is still obviously flustered as you lead the so-called dragonblooded one back behind the curtain. He glances over his shoulder constantly, as if hoping to geta way, or perhaps afraid his wife-to-be will see him. You can see the physical tells of human arousal in his face, but when you get him back stage and press your body to his, his genitalia is not the only thing that is stiff: O’Quill’s entirely body language is hesitant and uncomfortable despite his clear carnal interest in you.

“Wait, wait, please!” he says. “I… Appreciate the offer, and you look… Very fetching in the crown and all, but…”

He seems to genuinely NOT want to have sex with you—at least not as much as he wishes to maintain his marital contract with his female. Reptilian relations having been largely barred to you except as a service to a superior or a ‘lesson’ to prepare you for the dirty work of a Degenerate spy, this reaction is curious, alien. Certainly, nothing similar has ever stopped you for using your body and your sensual skills for spycraft and business purposes, despite your… Whatever-it-is around Edwin of Engel.

…But then, you have avoided fooling around with Fynn out of a sense of obligation, now that you think about it. The thought of sharing some irrational, weak-willed mammalian moral core with beings like Orin O’Quill fills you with a low-level discomfort and self-loathing, and yet…

What do you do?
>Seduce him anyway—no man can resist you, and he will be more pliable
>Honour O’Quill’s request, and let him leave—you are wearing what you really wanted
>Ask O’Quill about the diadem and the demon cult
>Ask O’Quill about his fiancé, and his hesitance
>Blackmail O’Quill, threatening to tell his fiancé about this unless you are allowed to keep the diadem
>Write-in
>>
>>4896353
>Agree to leave him alone if he shows us some of his magic, now that he saw ours
>Ask whether he knows how we could use our illusion for combat, "could come handy in thiss line of work"
>Ask O’Quill about his fiancé, and his hesitance
>Ask O’Quill about the diadem and the demon cult
>Ask if they bring many artifacts from their adventures
This diadem doesn't do what we need and we can't even keep it. Waste of choice.
Sorry for 5 points, btw.
>>
>>4896546
The diadem has several uses if you choose to go that route, and there are options for how to acquire it... But it's also certainly not necessary to advance your mission, and I won't punish you for skipping over it
>>
>>4896353
>>Blackmail O’Quill, threatening to tell his fiancé about this unless you are allowed to keep the diadem
>>
>>4896353
>Seduce him anyway—no man can resist you, and he will be more pliable
>Ask O’Quill about the diadem and the demon cult
>Ask O’Quill about his fiancé, and his hesitance

Am I not pretty?

I still say we should seduce the man, make him feel superior than Drik. Self-confidence mates, plus an in to an actual adventuring group.
>>
>>4896546
>Ask O’Quill about his fiancé, and his hesitance
>Ask O’Quill about the diadem and the demon cult

These two seem widely agreed upon, but there's debate oevr whether to:
>Agree to leave him alone if he shows us some of his magic, now that he saw ours
>Blackmail O’Quill, threatening to tell his fiancé about this unless you are allowed to keep the diadem
or
>Seduce him anyway—no man can resist you, and he will be more pliable

I'll wait for a tie-breaker for a while, and roll if all else fails.
>>
>>4896848
I honestly just want to boost the man's self-confidence. He's like a rough diamond, so much potential, he just needs a bit of work and a polish to truely start shining.

Plus, having his ear wouldn't be to bad a move either. We don't have many mage-friends after all, and adventurer on top of that? Very versatile friend.
>>
>>4896353
>Seduce him anyway—no man can resist you, and he will be more pliable

We want that connection

>Ask O’Quill about the diadem and the demon cult
>>
Rolled 16, 6, 7 = 29 (3d20)

>>4897007
>>4896848
>>4896751
>>4896739
>>4896546
Rolling for seduction, DC 18 due to circumstantial modifiers
>>
>>4897010
Damnit
>>
>>4897010
“Am I not pretty?” you ask, leaning into him in such a way as to force him to embrace you, or else to let you drop. O’Quill does the former.

“What? Obviously, you’re—”

“There’ss no need to be nervous, then,” you whisper, slipping a hand under his robe to stroke his chest, his abdomen. “It’ss jusst you and me here. Nobody elsse needs to know…”

Your mark takes a step back, but it is truncated as he hits a wall. Your hand slides ever lower, finding its objective. You smirk at the sensation of his the mage’s biology bending to your will, as he gasps.

“Iss your fianccé sso sskilled?” you tease, nibbling her neck as you begin to go to work…

But it seems to you’ve miscalculated. Orin O’Quill grabs your wrists and pulls your hand out of his robes, away from him, and pushes you back a step. You’re genuinely shocked—this is, after all, the first time such an approach has been rebuffed.

“I wouldn’t know,” the man admits after he has taken the time to adjust his robes and to catch his beath. “We’re waiting until after the wedding.”

This human courtship gets weirder and weirder.

“But… Why?” You can’t help but ask the question. It isn’t just that it’s alien to your upbringing—so many things about Hawksong and its inhabitants are—but that it’s absolutely unlike your experience of surface males thus far. “I ssaid I wouldn’t tell her.”

“I’d know,” O’Quill says seriously, red eyes meeting yours with a solemn intensity that throws you off. “Polly means the world to me. She’s always waited for me, always been there for me, even when Dirk and the lads drag me away to god knows where. Even when the paper says I’m some sort of dragon-descended riddle-obsessed bookworm constantly chasing after the leavings of that meatheaded…”

He stops short, shaking his head. “No, he means well. But the fame, the sorts of… Women it attracts, and the sort of reputation we all get… It took me so much effort to convince her that I wasn’t some wandering wastrel and bandit, sacking old tombs and having flings in every bloody tavern or dungeon. The entire reason we’re getting married is so I can stay put in Hawksong, be dependable for her. Reliable. Trustworthy. Like Polly’s always been for me.”

You aren’t sure what to say. It sounds… Silly. Yet even so, is it so different from your own recent experiences with a different robe-wearing mammalian male?

“She ssoudnss like… Quite the woman,” you say.

Orin avoids your eyes again, but smiles and nods.
>>
>>4897034

The two of you don’t head back right away—O’Quill’s erection is still quite obvious for one thing, and he seems to be willing it to die down without your assistance. You decide to aid, such as you can, by changing the subject. You might not be able to ‘milk’ it out of him, but you brought him back here for information more than for pleasure, after all.

“Tell me, this diadem,” you tap the crown. “It’ss really a gift from a noblewoman, to Dirk, for hiss heroism?”

“Well… More or less,” O’Quill replies, visibly grateful for your breaking of the awkward silence with something other than another proposition. You both take up seats on crates of theatrical supplies as he tells you true ttale.

Dirk Enfield had no whirlwind romance with the ‘princess’ who once wore the crown now upon your head, but he DID receive it from a minor noble house. It was part of a negotiated pre-payment package for helping to eliminate an underground cult in a smallish settlement on the outskirts of the Paladin King’s sphere of influence.

“Ah, yess,” you say. “They were feeding a demon ssoulss, right? ‘Journey to the… Ssomething-or-other.”

Orin shrugs. “I don’t know the title that Underhead’s writers gave the pamphlet for that one. And we don’t really know what they were doing. I don’t think we ever found any dead bodies or the like, or skeletons, or ghostly apparitions. But… Well, you can’t just have a demon-cult growing in the middle of your city when you’re the man in charge. Demons are bad news, and they’re definitely a black mark on the local church and nobility no matter what. We were hired to attack their little clubhouse in the hills on the edge of town. After that time in the north when Dirk got brainwashed into attacking us, well, he said he wouldn’t do it without some protection against mind-affecting spells, so…”

He points to your diadem, and shrugs.

“Doess it work?” you ask.

“Against demonic mind control and possession? Probably. I don’t know for sure that they tried that on us. We tested it against other glamours, though, and it’s been good for that at least. But then illusion and mentalism aren’t my specialty. It shields the mind against outside intentions, and helps to see clearly when your passions are being… Manipulated.”

“Bet you could have usssed THAT a few minutess ago,” you tease, nodding to O’Quill’s crotch with a smirk and a snicker.

The mage flushes, and chuckles as well. “You joke, but it can be helpful even against mundane manipulations, yes.”
>>
>>4897035


What do you do?
>Return the diadem—it isn’t what you need right now, and your next set will probably be soon
>Threaten to blackmail O’Quill with your brief backroom handjob if he doesn’t find a way to let you keep the diadem
>Return to Dirk Enfield with O’Quill, and attempt to negotiate to keep the diadem a while longer—you can make use of this
>Attempt to haggle for the diadem on a more permanent basis with Enfield
>Let O’Quill leave for now, and go test the diadem against the succubus in your bag right now, before you have to return it or you get called back to the stage
>Write-in
>>
>>4897010
i-impossible!

>>4897036
>Let O’Quill leave for now, and go test the diadem against the succubus in your bag right now, before you have to return it or you get called back to the stage

make uh real frikkin sure we aren't watched or followed

maybe ask gren or annie to run interference
>>
>>4897040
+1

We should sink our claws into these adventurers proper, even if it isn't through seduction.
>>
>>4897056
>>4897040
When O’Quill has calmed down enough to bid you a somewhat awkward and apologetic farewell, you make no effort to stop him. However, as soon as he has passed to the other side of the curtains, you are immediately up, looking for Red Annie or Grendelia. Perhaps unsurprisingly, Annie is mooning over the adventuring group’s half-elven archer, out amidst the crowd. Responsible and shy Grendelia, however, is sticking a bit closer to the stage. Perfect!

You approach the orc-blooded dancer, who is sipping a mead and making polite conversation with a well-dressed and pointy-bearded halfling male you assume to be the group’s ‘rogue’. A few other attendees mill about the conversation, but it’s clear that it’s mainly between this pint-sized trap-disarmer and your coworker.

“Pardon me,” you interject. “How log until our nexxt sset?”

“When I’m done talking to the lovely lady here,” the rogue replies, though you’d clearly been look at, and addressing, Grendelia. An answer is an answer, you suppose.

“Keep me possted, and give me a minute,” you say to the both of them. “Grendelia, mind giving me a little… Privacccy?”

Grendelia looks confused, but presumably assumes a rendezvous of the sort Enfield was trying to arrange for O’Quill. She nods, and you dip into the back once more to go retrieve your pack… And the incense-container within. You scoop the container up, don the diadem, and take a moment to make sure there are no witnesses about. You consider one of the outhouses outside the theatre as an alternative staging ground for this experiment, but with so many party-goers drinking and eating finger-food, you consider that is likely to be LESS private. It’s now or never, here or nowhere.

You focus upon the being within the incense-container, shut your eyes, and begin. You feel the pleasant, reassuring hum of the diadem’s presence, and make an admittedly-amateur effort to divert your communications and perceptions through its crystal-studded arcane structure.

“Heya Lispy,” comes a familiar voice in your mind, after a time. “Quite the party out there, huh? Did I hear you get shot down by some bigshot? You know, nobody EVER says ‘no, I love my wife’ to a succubus. Just sayin’…”

“That’ss what I’m here to talk about,” you psychically reply.

“Ooooh?” Irinnile’s interest is piqued. “Do tell, hotstuff!”

What do you do?
>Question the succubus about something that’s been bothering you [what?]
>Release the succubus, in a body of her own, as a minion
>Find the succubus a host, and free her to possess them
>Accept the succubus’ possession yourself, counting on the diadem to help keep her under control
>Write-in
>>
>>4897602
>Question the succubus about something that’s been bothering you [diadem]

I honestly don't know what we were expecting to do here lads.
>>
>>4898139
Wait, what do you want to ask Irinnile about, regarding the diadem?
>>
>>4898349
How it looks on us? Would the damn thing even work on her?

I honestly just wanted to post something so as to have a conversation. I don't know if using the diadem while it's in our hands now is a smart move or that bringing the succubus out of its prison with a couple of adventurers around is wise. I would love to discuss it with the other anons, but they all seem to be indisposed at the moment.
>>
>>4897602
>Accept the succubus’ possession yourself, counting on the diadem to help keep her under control

YOLO
>>
File: Spoiler Image (1.72 MB, 2952x2550)
1.72 MB
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[I'll await a tie-breaker but, for now: a commission!]
>>
>>4898675
That... is pretty epic. I love it.
>>
>>4897602
If no one else votes, count me as supporting >>4898481. I know some anons are right to be afraid of possession, but the voting wait is getting a bit ridiculous here.
>>
>>4897602
>>Question the succubus about something that’s been bothering you [diadem]
>>
>>4899068
>>4898481
>>4898445

“How doess my new diadem look?” you ask.

“Huh? How should I know?” Irinnile asks huffily. “I can hear what’s going on out there, but I can’t see for shit. Unelss it involves souls and emotions, or at least magic…”

The demon pauses, and you feel its energies recoil a little away from the edges of its prison.

“That’s… Hey! Where did you get that?!”

Wel THAT’S an interesting reaction. Irinnile seems to be able to sense the diadem’s magic, and it does NOT please the demon to do so.

“I have a quessstion,” you ask, taunting her but also curious. “Would sssuch a magical item be usseful in, for inssstancce… Resssissting a demon’ss possession?”

“What, you want to ‘top’?” Irinnile whines. “That crown ain’t gonna’ be on your head forever!”

“But while I wore it, while we made the deal…”

“WHY would I make a deal under conditions like THOSE, you speech-slurring bimbo?!”

Seems like you struck a nerve.

What do you do?
>Continue the conversation [new subject, specify]
>Make Irinnile an offer [possession, her own body, another host? Specify terms]
>Make another request of Irinnile [Bianchi’s dream-manifestation scheme? Secret knowledge? Specify terms]
>Attempt to convince her to make a deal to possess you while wearing the diadem [What is your pitch?]
>Simply release Irinnile, as a show of good faith
>Do a bump of shirin for extra mental acuity
>Put the succubus' container away and return to the party
>Write-in
>>
>>4899305
>Attempt to convince her to make a deal to possess you while wearing the diadem [What is your pitch?]

It's this or the fox woman. I bet she'll still prefer us.
>>
>>4899339
Support
>>
>>4899305
>Continue the conversation

Can you switch from possession to your own body on a dime? I can think of situations where doing either would be useful.
>>
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>>4899638
>>4899479
>>4899339

“Can you sswitch from posssession to your own body on the flip of a coin?”

You’re still toying with ideas for how to use the succubus. What if I can think of situations where a demon who could masquerade as others, or assume a more fluid identity, would both be useful. Both would be still better!

“Not so easy as THAT, maybe,” Irinnile mumbles. “I mean, I can, but… That leaves a mortal wandering around who knows they were possessed, and getting me out requires, like, this whole ritual THING. Or killing them, I guess?”

The succubus still seems reticent to take any deal with you while you’re wearing your current headgear. If she’s suddenly a bit more cooperative in explaining her other options, perhaps it’s because she no longer trusts that your mind and soul will be so easily overcome.

While the diadem offers you a chance you’ve not had before… Well, it’s a big gamble. Can you truly risk it, even after Irinnile’s reaction to the magical item?

Can you afford Not to take this opportunity, knowing you won’t have the diadem for much longer, unless you can think of another way to retain it’s power?

Ultimately, the remembrance of your prophetic dream—well, ominous, at least, and deeply affecting—push you to take your chances. You adjust the diadem, to ensure it doesn’t suddenly fall from your head. The action belies your anxiety, and Irinnile’s energies shift back towards inquisitiveness and opportunistic interest as she senses your mounting resolve and flagging confidence.

“Lispy?”

“Alright,” you say, “you only live onccce, after all…”

[3d20, DC 13 due to the diadem. Moment of truth!]
>>
Rolled 15, 2, 1 = 18 (3d20)

>>4899960
>>
>>4899963
pog? I forget if there are critfails
>>
>>4899963
“Sure, just take off the crown and—”

“No,” you cut Irinnile off. It’ss me or the foxxx-woman. Now, or not at all.”

“You could just let me go…”

You don’t dignify that idea with a response. You’ll use the demon, or bargain it away for another means of acquiring the power you need to infiltrate or overcome the Mages’ Tower. There’s no other option, and you’ll never has at good a shot at dominating Irinnile’s psychic forces with your own. You both realize it, and impulsive beings that Irinnile is, it can’t help but take the gamble.

“Alright,” the succubus says eventually, its energy welling up at the top of the incense-container. “But don’t expect me to be gentle because it’s your first time.”

>1
Oh by the gods, this was a MISTAKE.

You set the terms carefully, you’re sure of it, but there was no time to draw up a formal contract. Obedience, your body and a supply of the necessary energies to sustain the parasitic demon, and in exchange… power. However, while power is what you get, it’s more power than you can handle! Raw sensation and hunger surge through you. You feel like your brain is being slurped out of your skull, like your stomach is eating itself, like your very sex has grown teeth and is devouring you from below and subsuming you into a pit of acid and fire.

>2
You can’t handle this. The crown must have been thrown from your head, or shattered. Your body must even now be melting away, or else stolen away from you. Youa re cast adrift in a sea of blackness. You can see nothing around you except wavelengths of… laughter? Annoyance? Sadness and loneliness, desperation and desire?

You realize where you are, working out your new surroundings bit by bit. You are seeing and hearing as Irinnile has been, within the demon’s container: no physical object, but emotional impressions. You can hear snippets of conversation between friends, lovers, comrades, groupies, even your coworkers. You can sense Red Annie’s excitement, and an underlying disappointment with the significantly more mundane nature of the heroes she still sort of hopes to bed. You can sense Grendelia’s dutiful sense of connection to… You, you guess... And her lingering embarrassment over recent events. You can detect Dirk Enfield’s surprising amount of anxiety, his fragile ego, his need to please and impress, and your would-be client Orin O’Quill’s lingering guilt and desire around you, his resentment and exasperated amusement with Enfield.
>>
>>4899995
>15
You seek out the signature of the diadem, just as you sought out Irinnile within the incense container before. It is difficult, but now that you understand the senses available to you, you can swim these dark seas. It is like doing the butterfly stroke in a pit of hot tar, but you are REPTILIAN, trained from hatching to brave any unpleasantness for the sake of The Grand Design. Purpose both grim and glorious guides you to a sapphire beacon of magical energy, and a cofmroting hum.

You haul yourself out of the chasm which so swallowed you, finding to your surprise that what you have been swimming in is Irinnile itself. You are awash in demonic energy, hovering over the dark, acrid mists of the creature’s hollow soul-force. You gaze ‘down’ from your uncertain place in your shared mindscape to se the bat-winged, horned silhouette of the being which Bianchi summoned. You reach above you for the north star of the diadem’s crystals, and pull the energies down to your mental projection’s head, to sit there as a crown of office… And you descend upon the nightmare being like an avenging angel.

No, like a divebombing dragon, blasting cobalt flame!

The succubus recoils, shrieking unintelligibly in a tongue beyond human comprehension… But no match for a servant of the Dark Gods.

“I surrender! I surrender!”

You magnanimously accept… And awake, to Grendelia standing over you.

“Kamunu?” she asks, shaking you perhaps a bit too roughly. “Kamunu? Are you okay? You just… Passed out, I think.”

You look to your right, where the incense container lies, shattered upon the floor. To your right, the diadem, clutched in the white-knuckled fingers of your outstretched hand.
You look down at your body, at skin that seems to be beaded with the slightest hint of sweat… And which glistens and glows in your eyes with the potential you feel buzzing within. Your entire body feels like it’s tingling with electricity… But like a cup half-full, as if it you could still hold MORE.

And Grendelia, to your delight, is buzzing with easily-transferable energy.

What do you do?
>Don the diadem and reign in your new urges, even though it will leave you WANTING
>Embrace Grendelia, and sate your new hunger
>Start the set—you need no sap ALL the energy from ONE mortal when you can sap SOME energy from MANY mortals
>Tell Grendelia you’re not feeling well, and need to leave early—you need to get away from this place and get yourself under control
>Write-in
>>
>>4899997
>Don the diadem and reign in your new urges, even though it will leave you WANTING

Freinds not food!
>>
>>4899997
If we do choose to start the set, the adventurers won't notice the energy drain, correct? That's my main worry, and I don't wish to magically manipulate them during the set either.
>>
>>4899997
>Don the diadem and reign in your new urges, even though it will leave you WANTING

Yeah, I'd rather find out what WANTING is than risk energy draining adventurers
>>
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>>4900015
>>
>>4899997
>Tell Grendelia you’re not feeling well, and need to leave early—you need to get away from this place and get yourself under control
Can't believe this bullshit passed when I was gone. Should've never talked to Bianchi. Fuck.
>>
>>4900413
Hey, shit happens. Might as well test this shit out while we have it before we decide if we want to keep her.
>>
>>4900433
I tried to prevent it for a week and find a common ground but you anons can't control your dumb impulses.
>>
>>4900475
Hey man, I wanted to wait and have a discussion on it because I knew some of you had reservations on the succubus. I didn't want people to be strong-armed into a decision they didn't want, but I was outvoted in the end.
>>
>>4900413
>>4900020
>>4900001
You hastily place the sapphire diadem upon your brow once more, and squeeze you eyes shut. Deep in your heart, your gut, and… Still yet lower down… You can feel the same mystical sensation which accompanied your conversations with Irinnile within the demon’s container. It’s muted at present, fuzzier around the edges, and the attempts to mentally reach out are met with nothing…

But what ahs replaced it is this gnawing need, this deep-seated, hungry desire.

Luckily, just as you tamed the demon, you now tame the urge to swallow up Grendelia’s lifeforce. When you open your eyes, you see the giant woman is still visibly concerned, but you simply rest a hand upon her cheek.

“No worriess, hotsstuff,” you say. “But I apprecciate the conccern.”

“…Kamunu?”

Huh. What you just said… It sounded more like Irinnile than like your usual self—or, well, your usual self when you are masquerading as ‘Kamunu’. You’ll have to keep an eye on that.

“Ssorry, sstil jusst… A little dizzy.”

“Do you need to go home?” Grendelia asks seriously, helping you up.

“Hm? Oh. No, no, I’m fine. Honessst!”

You feel… Warm, but not actually dizzy. In fact, you feel more energized than you did before! Apart from this… Urge… You can’t help but feel this is a net positive. You do a little jog in place, and you can something has changed. You stretch, and you feel as if your every muscle and bone is somehow… More flexible, malleable.

“When’ss our sset, Grendelia?”

“…As soon as you’re ready,” she says, though the orc-blooded dancer’s face shows clear consternation at the idea of you doing anything strenuous.

What do you do?
>Ask for a brief delay to get yourself sorted
>Suggest that Red Annie and Grendelia go on first, and you’ll bring up the lead
>You’re ready now! Let’s get dancing
>Skip out after all
>Write-in

Do you do anything in preparation?
>Take a bump of shirin
>Return the diadem
>Experiment with your new shapeshifting abilities [anything in particular?]
>Find some poor sap in the bathrooms to drain, so you no longer WANT
>Write-in
>>
>>4900629
>Ask for a brief delay to get yourself sorted

After our big risk I am ready to be cautious
Can we still talk with Irinnile inside us? Do that as prep, hopefully she'll give us more details now that the deal is made. At least how often she's gonna WANT and what happens if we don't feed her.
>>
>>4900629
>Ask for a brief delay to get yourself sorted
>Experiment with your new shapeshifting abilities [anything in particular?] try to shapeshit the demon bitch out of our body
>>
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>>4900842
>try to shapeshift away the thing enabling our shapeshifting
>>
>>4900629
>Ask for a brief delay to get yourself sorted
>Experiment with your new shapeshifting abilities [shift our tounge into a lizard form and back]

Well, this will be interesting. I wonder if we can upgrade our degenerate status with this. I also wonder if we can still do Bianchi's magic trick.

>>4900842
We'll need a ritual to get this demon out of our body lad. It'll take a while to research the ritual, so try not to stress out about it now, we'll get on it as soon as we can in the morning.
>>
Rolled 8, 17, 12 = 37 (3d20)

DC 17 for unfamiliarity.
>>
>>4901360
>hit dat DC

Hell yea!
>>
>>4901360
>>4901238
>>4900842
>>4900673
“I jusst need a moment to freshen up,” you say.”Be right out!”

Grendelia seems slightly perturbed, but doesn't question you. The moment she turns the corner, you turn around and shut your eyes. With your will, you reach out to Irinnile. Is the demon still able to reply?

“Ssucubuss?” you think. “Irinnile?”

Nothing. The energies within you roll and shift in response to the name, but the demon's silence is unbroken. What have you done, you wonder? What will happen if this… This WANT persists?

You scowl, but then a mote of whimsy drifts through your dark imaginings. You roll your tongue around in your mouth, even as you roll the idea around in your mind. While you can't seem to ask Irinnile how to use the powers of the succubus, you CAN feel… Something. Like a muscle-memory, an instinct. The same feeling that tells you that THIS impulse will move your tongue THIS way tells you that THIS impulse will…

Yeah, that did it! You stick out your tongue and find it long, and forked! You kick your lips at the thought of what you could do with THIS, what emotions you could milk put of mortals…

No! You shake your head, dismissing what is clearly a distraction of demonic devising. Irinnile might use this idea to provide better oral sex so as to suck up souls, but for YOU, the promise is an ascent beyond your humble, shameful Degeneracy. With enough shapeshifted features, perhaps you could truly Purge yourself of human failings, and become a true Reptilian, deadly of form and function. You could be the mightiest weapon of the Serpent Priests' arsenal, rather than a petty pawn!

“Kamunu,” Red Annie hisses, peering through the curtains. “Are you ready? The music's starting any minute!”

You slurp your tongue back up into your mouth with some urgency, and will it to return to normal before Annie notices its transformation, or the effect such a tongue would ni doubt have on your diction in the mammals' common-tongue. A good thing, too: Annie is mistaken, and the music actually starts up right then, a jaunty and playful jig reminiscent of Manuela LaPert's halfling showtunes.

“I’m coming, I'm coming!” you reassure the nautically-themed dancer, as you join Annie and Grendelia on the stage.

The music trails off not long after you take the stage, and the crowd's chatter dies down. The bard at hand strums idly, tentatively, awaiting your lead.

What do you do?
>Request something bold and adventurous, in honour of the man of the hour
>Request something slow, and sensual, because you're going to make this crowd writhe in their seats
>Request something exotic, because you're going to show them all the glory of Kamunu, Demon Prinncccessss of the Dunesss!
>Keep it light and simple, play it safe
>Write-in
>>
>>4901400
>Request something bold and adventurous, in honour of the man of the hour
Then
>Request something slow, and sensual, because you're going to make this crowd writhe in their seats

Might as well have some fun with this.
>>
>>4901400
>Request something bold and adventurous, in honor of the man of the hour

There was that note about Dirk needing his ego puffed

though I guess he isn't the man of the hour
>>
>>4901400
>Request something bold and adventurous, in honour of the man of the hour

>>4901238
I'm stressed, because I want this demon shitshow out of our chameleon, anon.
>>
>>4902000
>>4901444
>>4901413
“Play something… Daring,” you say to the bard, before turning to the crowd and raising your voice. “For the man of the hour, and his fellow HEROES!”

A cheer goes up, and you can see Enfield’s chest visibly puff. The ranger grins squeezes the girls in his arms tighter to his body; the halfling rogue amps up his obvious, aggressive flirtation with the mousy-haired female of his race that you spoke with earlier. Even shy and dutiful Orin O’Quill can’t help but smile, and to incline his head to you in an nod of appreciation as the music swells to bombastic heights.

What follows is less sensuous and titillating than it is rambunctious and boisterous, though you and your fellow entertainers can’t help but make it both. There are lewdly-revealing high-kicks, hip-pops and bouncy leaps, and before you know, the three of you—even Grendelia is getting into it!—are mingling with each other in a fast waltz of tantalizingly-close bodies.

Did Red Annie always smell so… Delicious?

When her hands slip down to your hips and give your rear a squeeze, you can tell she’s thinking similarly—or, well, maybe not, since SHE’S probably not fantasizing about siphoning anyone’s psychic energies. It certainly gets the crowd whooping, though!

To resist the urge to drag Annie off-stage right then and there, you force yourself to leave your suggestive embrace, and you beckon a few members of the small crowd onto the stage to dance with you and the other professionals. They’re clumsy, but eager, and many seem to know the intended lyrics to go with the gallant tune—something about a man riding through wastelands, righting wrongs astride some giant iron horse.

One song leads into another, and leads into an increasingly raucous party atmosphere, with you at the centre. Is this the effect of Irinnile’s influence? Everyone’s inhibitions seem to be lowering, though you suppose they’ve all been drinking as well. Your own mind and body are throbbing with WANT at the scent of all this amusement, enthusiasm, excitement. Emotions is wafting in the air, and you find you are intensely sensitive to it.

“Miss Kamunu?”

A familiar voice: Dirk Enfield, apropoacing from the left, a small tumbler barely-fileld with a distilled spirit in each hand.

“Excellent work,” he says, commending you and offering a drink. “A toast?”

What do you do?
>Take him up on it
>Politely refuse
>take the drink, but pawn it off on some other sucker when he isn’t looking
>Write-in
>>
>>4902133
The two of you make conversation for a time, dancing around a few innuendoes about what you did or didn’t do with his mage friend and discussing the mundanities of the Hawksong shopping and street food scene. Eventually, though, you can tell that the male’s intentions go beyond mere small talk. His eyes continually drift…

To your diadem. Well, HIS diadem, you suppose.

“The night’s not as young as it once was,” he notes, “and while you looking remarkable in that, I’m afraid I’ll need it back.”

You hesitate. The diadem’s effects seem to have been key to Irinnile’s ‘surrender’. Without it, what will become of your newly-possessed self? Will the demon make another play for dominance?

>Return the diadem, confident in your own willpower
>Haggle for the diadem, using Edwin’s gold
>Attempt to use the succubus’ psychic powers to make Enfield forget all about reclaiming his property
>Slip backstage with Enfield to pay for the diadem by other means [seduction]
>Try to intimidate Enfield into backing off
>Appeal for just one more night with the diadem, claiming you need it for a special event
>Write-in
>>
>>4902133
>Politely refuse
>>4902135
>Return the diadem, confident in your own willpower
>>
>>4902133
>Politely refuse
>>4902135
>Slip backstage with Enfield to pay for the diadem by other means [seduction]
>>
>>4902135
If there isn't another vote, consider me supporting >>4902288 instead. I believe in us and our superior reptilian heritage after all, just thought it would be a useful tool later and I wanted to see if we can wrap Dirk around our finger.
>>
>>4903152
>>4902584
>>4902288
You politely push the drink back to Enfield with one hand, while removing the diadem with the other. You won’t use some surface-dweller heirloom as a crutch. You don’t require such handicaps to tame this demon—you are a scion of the Reptilian Master Race! However, you DEFINITELY can’t afford to weaken your will with alcohol if you are going to aps sup on its protections.

[DC on checks to master Irinnile: 15, +1 each time WANT builds; current DC 16]

The rest of the evening passes by much as one might expect, though you and the other girls from The Pretty Kitty are as much the centre of attention as the adventurers by the end of it. Red Annie, to her obvious delight, manages to steal some of the half-elf archer’s attention from his groupies. Maybe it’s just your demonically-enhanced psionic senses, but you swear you can smell her arousal from across the crowded room.

The thought makes your sex—no, some other, less tangible aspect of you—ache with WANT. It’s more intense without the comforting hum of the sapphire crown upon your head, but it’s nothing you can’t master… For now.

Your other coworker is being chatted up by the halfling bard again, who seems to have either struck out with his fellow pint-sized burrowing mammal or else to have decided to go for bigger prey. He has a bag of coins open, and is flashing them with clear intent to purchase some ‘service’, but Grendelia still seems hesitant, albeit more confident and less cowed than she was with the minotaurs. To your amusement, she even seems to be blushing and laughing supportively in a way you’ve seen female mammals do when they are engaging with a male they are attracted to.

Your obligations for the night are technically over, but a bit of ‘wetwork’ could potentially tide over your WANT for the night. Then again, how confident are you that you can keep control of the demon within, now without the aid of the diadem, once you start feeding it ‘raw meat’?
>Go find yourself some sucker to suck for the succ [specify if you have any target or profile in mind]
>Join in on Grendelia’s conversation, and see if you can join the festivities—maybe ‘backup’ can help build her confidence AND keep you under control
>Do NOT feed the beast, lest Irinnile take control or you risk exposure [specify if you do anything else at the party, head home, or go elsewhere]
>Write-in

Sorry for the late update; last night was a bit of a downer, and I also was waiting to see if we'd get a third vote
>>
>>4903448
>Do NOT feed the beast, lest Irinnile take control or you risk exposure
>Find the right moment to leave and head for Roth's place
I think that is the safest place for us to stay tonight, since we don't know how or when the demon can manifest. Don't want the Engels/girls to know about her, that's for sure.
I wonder how sharp Irinnile's claws are, should we meet some wererats along the way... although we shouldn't leave any anomalous traces on the bodies. Can we shapeshift a sword?

After my initial tantrum I still think this demon is a hortible mistake. We literally have a liability which requires us to pass DC 16s now. Not to mention how annoying this is, lmao
Really wish we just let her manifest or possess someone - it could be amusing and her horny wouldn't directly interfere with our actions.
On a good side of things, we can use shapeshifting to look like one of Yosef's employees/maids, right..?
I wonder where could we test our new abilities safely. Maybe a little trip outside the Hawksong is in order?
Can we grow a dick and give dragonboi a pegging now?

Sorry for being a cunt. Hope you're doing better today, RQM!
>>
>>4903448
>Join in on Grendelia’s conversation, and see if you can join the festivities—maybe ‘backup’ can help build her confidence AND keep you under control

I do want to build her confidence, but if there isn't a second vote for this, I'll support >>4903609 instead.

The anon said he was busy beforehand, hence there was no rejection to the demon possession. He's probably just busy lads.
>>
>>4903448
>>4903937
I (>>4903609, different ID as always lol) will meet halfway if we can:
>Join in on Grendelia’s conversation, and see if you can help build her confidence
(no wetwork)
>Find the right moment to leave and head for Roth's place
I also wanna help the quarter orc get a hang of things.

Which anon are we talking about, anon?
>>
>>4903609
>Sorry for being a cunt.

[I don't think anyone in this thread has been a cunt. I'm just bummed out for personal reasons I won't blogpost, and a little because of Royal Rumble falling through, which is one of the quests that inspired me to get back into this genre. I will continue to post one-to-two times per day, so don't fear that this thread is going anywhere. There will be a second post today! Probably in 2 to 4 hours.]
>>
>>4904029
I still feel like apologizing, because complaining isn't healthy for the quest and I tend to get really serious about voting.
Sorry to hear RR is done for. Shame there won't be any more amazing drawings from it, but glad that QM is no longer suffering running thing he doesn't like.
And holy fucking shit, 20 IDs. Is samefagging a prevalent /qst/ issue now?
>>
>>4903448
>Do NOT feed the beast, lest Irinnile take control or you risk exposure [specify if you do anything else at the party, head home, or go elsewhere]

go find some rando to drain away from the party
>>
>>4904168
>>4904080
>>4904029
>>4903937
You slink off at the first opportunity, hoping to escape to the safety of your compatriot, Roth, and his home in Hawksong. Something about returning to Edwin of Engel and his father while possessing by a spirit of pure WANT doesn’t sit well with you, it seems…

But neither does leaving Grendelia to her own devices.

It’s not your problem, when you get right down to it, but Grendelia’s confidence presents a logistical issue to The Pretty Kitty… And you cannot ignore an increasing sense of responsibility to her, besides this. You segue into her conversation, eyeing her halfling ‘suitor’.

“Hey there,” you say. “Mind if I cut in?”

“Not at all,” the halfling welcome you. “The more the merrier.”

Grendelia says nothing, looking stonefaced but flushing slightly. Eventually, the halfling—Tannimiro—excuses himself to fetch new drinks for the three of you. Then, you step in in earnest.

“Heya babe,” you say, only belatedly choking down Irinnile’s influence, “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” Grendelia reassures you.

“But are you fine to…?”

She hesitates, but eventually nods. “He’s… My type.”

She looks so serious that you can’t help but laugh at the absurdity, but… Well, to each their own. As Tanniminro returns, you excuse yourself, and leave your quarter-orc companion to the compact little man she’s chosen as a client. You watch them surreptitiously for a while and, whole Grendelia is hardly as forward as you or Annie, you do see the two intertwined fingers and eventually move somewhere less public. Seeing that Annie has long done likewise, you too make your escape.
What do you do?
>Target a random concertgoer to extract your needed sexual energies
>Terrorize a random passerby on the way home for some cheap fear energy
>Hunt some wererats down, to exterminate your hated foes and replenish your energies at the same time
>Head to Roth’s, to relax far away from the potentially exposure
>Write-in
>>
>>4904252
>Terrorize a random passerby on the way home for some cheap fear energy

Start small
>>
>>4904252
>Terrorize a random passerby on the way home for some cheap fear energy

>>4903971
I was drunk at the time, so I don’t remember. Sorry if it annoyed you.

>>4904029
I’m sorry to hear that, I hope things get better for you soon mate.

>>4904080
RRQM didn’t like running it? That’s a damn shame, and I feel sorry for contributing to his misery if that’s the case.
>>
>>4904358
>>4904666
This WANT is altogether unpleasant, and the potential compounding effects of leaving it unsatisfied concern you. You reason that it's best to start small, however, and especially to keep in unobtrusive. Recalling your first conversation with Irinnile, back during the demon's summoning, you remember that it is not only lust which can fuel their infernal fire, but any emotion. Well then, what about fear?

You take some detour songs your way to Roth's quarter, skulking about in back alleys and shadows, choosing times of low traffic to make your move from one area to the next, or simply slipping into a crowd when it's convenient and bustling enough to make you a bit less conspicuous. Luckily, your pack contained your menswear ‘stealth suit', making the task considerably easier Rohan if you were still jingling with every step.

Eventually, you identify a potential mark: a young couple, human, whispering and tittering flirtatiously. They, like you, aren't exactly seeking attention, and before too long they dip into an alley ahead of you, seemingly none the wiser to your presence. You frown slightly. What, is EVERYONE but you getting some action tonight? The annoyance passes, however—they won't be having so fun a night when you descend upon them like a nightmare, after all!

Now, how to do it?
>Attempt to shapeshift a horrifying visage and ambush them directly
>Use shadows and seek a vantage point above the action to literally descend upon them
>Play a hapless stranger and interrupt them, then scare tge pants off of them with Irinnile's fear aura
>Scream for help, hoping to lure one away so you can target them separately
>Write-in
>>
>>4904897
>Use shadows and seek a vantage point above the action
>Wait for them to start c;
>Check if we have mind control ability on one of them
Don't do anything special with it, if we do.
>Attempt to shapeshift a horrifying visage and literally descend upon them
>Help ourselves with illusion if necessary
Better if we don't show our real face. Not like causing gossips about demons is good, but still!

>>4904666
>I was drunk at the time, so I don’t remember. Sorry if it annoyed you.
You might've been talking about me, then. What and why would annoy me?
>>
>>4905100
+1

I was drunk when I said that as well, so my reasoning is lost on me there. Happy 4th of July lads!
>>
>>4905279
Are you drunk now as well?
>>
>>4905338
Maybeee ;^)
>>
>>4905387
Sounds super unhealthy.
>>
>>4905440
>>4905440
Eh. I'll probably feel it when I'm done, but if there's anything to celebrate with a drink, it's America. God bless.
>>
>>4904897
>Write-in
Join in
>>
Rolled 14, 2, 4, 13, 5, 7, 10 = 55 (7d20)

>>4905100
>>4905279
>>4905650
[4d20, DC 16 to master Irinnile enough to use psionics and shape-shifting (extra die because your illusion skills has some overlap). 3d20, DC 18 to resist the WANT brought on by deliberately observing sexual intercourse (+1 DC) while actively drawing upon succubus powers (+1 DC).]
>>
>>4905702
Yea, the succubus is going to be more hassle than it's worth isn't it? I knew we should've kept that damn diadem.
>>
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>>4905702
You cast your gaze about, seeking a means to reach the rooftops. Luckily, a combination of waste receptacles, decorative crenellations and gables, and buildings of varying heights help facilitate your urban mountaineering. You ascend to a vantage point, surprised at how easy the action is in your newly-empowered body. You feel oddly indefatigable! However, I the process, you lose sight of your prey.

No matter: you have senses beyond the mere material now. Shutting your eyes, you seek out the psychic signature of the two humans. It's amazing how natural the process feels—it is no more alien an act than drawing out distractions for focus on a single conversation. The libidinous fools don't make it difficult for you, either: there are a few other spiritual signatures on the plane you now scan, but compared to weary travelers or sleeping denizens, the couple’s feedback loop of mutual desire burns like a summoning beacon.

As you approach the lovers, you scent the air like an animal, and lick your lips with a tongue that—to your surprise—is already long and prong-tipped once more. Curious, you don’t remember affecting such a change. You HAD intended to shift your shape and thus disguise your identity, of course, but it’s a little unnerving to realize it has already begun to happen without your conscious bidding…

You reach the edge of the rooftop and, like a leering gargoyle, you watch the hurried, risqué courtship. You tell yourself that you are merely waiting for an ideal opportunity to swoop down and terrify the hapless mammals, but when the male’s hand finds a breast, and you feel your own nipple twinge with empathic resonance. When the female moans and roughly cups and squeezes the bulge in his trousers, your own sex throbs and twinges. Your own breathing hitches and grows raspy in tandem with theirs.

By the time you realize your hand has begun to rub your own crotch, you are positively soaking, and your entire body is on fire. You try to stop yourself, but to your dismay, you find the digits—CLAWED digits!—do not respond to your mind’s missive. It isn’t a matter of being carried away in the moment: your will is intact, but it no longer seems to be helmsman of your transformed vessel. Whatever creature you have become, it is not YOUR creature—not any longer.
>>
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>>4905765
The male’s pants are pulled down, the females skirt hiked high, and you can wait no longer. You salivate, drooling openly, fingers into you with a reckless abandon. You open your mouth to scream, to cry out for help, but what emerges is half moan and half cackle.The two humans freeze, the male looking up with a start…

“Hey there,” you hear yourself say, carrying the same eerie and unholy resonance you’d flinched at in Irinnile’s communications in Lord Bianchi’s basement.

His expression freezes, slack jaw working the air in silence… But he is helplessly in your thrall. Or is it Irinnile’s thrall? In that moment, you can divine you difference.

“Don’t stop on my account,” you chide him gently. “It wass jusst getting good! Can’t you feel how badly she wants you?”

“Mikhail?” the woman asks. “W-what’s going on? Who is—AH!”

The male heeds your command, and you hear yourself chuckle.

“Good boy,” you commend him.

The male ruts with the female like a man—a beast—possessed. His eyes never leave yours—he is making love to YOU, not to her. The female thrashes and slams her palms into him, struggling, just as you struggle to regain control of your mind and body…

But neither of you can break free. Not now. You have drawn too deep, too soon, and you are all in the vortex of Irinnile’s influence now. You feel a ripping, tearing sensation across your spine and shoulders, but the pain is but a different form of pleasure to you now. On twisted leather wings, you descend upon the female. Clawed hands grip and massage hers, and your plant yourself upon her face, as the fox-woman did with you.

“That should shut the sslut up,” you tell Mikhail, cupping his chin as his hips continue to rock, and as the woman beneath you is similarly drawn in by your perverse power. “Now, why don’t I show the two of you how it’ss really done?”
>>
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>>4905769
What comes next is a blur of debauchery, of three minds and bodies entwined as one. Their pleasure is your power, feeding you. With each orgasm, you feel your body and soul swell. They are fuel piled high upon the sacrificial pyre to your own glory. Every orgasm is a tribute, every moan and cry a prayer to your magnificence. You ride high on wave after wave of exquisite energy, until you cannot even remember why you’d resisted this to begin with. You hardly even notice when their pleasure turns to fear and pain, their praise to pleading.

Only when their voices grow weak and broken, and finally silent, does the ride end.

Only then to you realize that, of the three who entered the alley, only you are still standing. The two humans are withered, twitching husks, barely breathing.

[WANT is sated. Current Irinnile mastery DC: 10]

“Oopssie,” Irinnile says in your voice, with your mouth. “Guesss I got a little carried away.”

But, of course, as you feel the demon retreat into the deep place where she dens inside you, you realize ‘oopsie’ barely covers it. You have just had incredibly noisy, debauched sex with two middle-class humans, and slain them using demonic power, in a city patrolled by Paladins.

“Shit,” you hiss.

What do you do?
>Focus on transforming back to your normal form, and call for help [3d20, DC 10 now]
>Tear up the humans with your claws and dispose of them in a nearby trash receptacle
>Fly away from this place on your ragged wings, before anyone comes to investigate the commotion
>Slay the humans and carry the bodies away with you—Roth is an old hand at disappearing dead humans, after all
>Use illusion to hide yourself and your victims [4d20, DC 15]
>Write-in
>>
>>4905771
>Use illusion to hide yourself and your victims [4d20, DC 15]

I can only hope we get more experience in mastering the not in the future, as I do not want a repeat performance of this mess.
>>
>>4905790
>the demon in the future

Not not, just FYI.
>>
>>4905771
>Use illusion to hide yourself and your victims [4d20, DC 15]
>Fly to the roof and get away using rooftops before anyone comes to investigate the commotion
Our succ here is done, let's leave the victims beaten up, like a proper vamp- I mean succubus.

>>4905762
Guess now I'm not the only one who wants to get the demon out.

Also I wanna say that the new captcha completely fucked me over as a phoneposter. That shit made Clover dysfunctional and I now have to resort to using absolute garbage interface in browser to post, which also removes mentions from my posts and fucks with my will to participate. Not to mention I mastered finding parking meters and taxis so goog captchas took a second to complete. This new shit gives me PTSD.
>>
>>4906127
>Our succ here is done, let's leave the victims beaten up, like a proper vamp- I mean succubus.

You mean just leave the withered husks as evidence that there's a succubus running amok in the Paladins' city? Better we hide the evidence than leave them here mate.

And I agree with the captcha, it's totally fucked now. The worst thing about it is that I'm slowly developing Stockholm syndrome with the new captcha. Shit's fucked.
>>
>>4905771
>Tear up the humans with your claws and dispose of them in a nearby trash receptacle
>>
>>4905771
>>4906221
Ah fffffuuck my bad. In my head I thought they were in a better state.
Changing (>>4906127) to:
>"Can you not kill them nexsst time?"
We know she's there and listening, might as well voice our displeasure.
>Use illusion to hide yourself and your victims [4d20, DC 15]
then
>Slay the humans and carry the bodies away with you—Roth is an old hand at disappearing dead humans, after all
We might as well let Roth know to have someone hold us accountable.

I hope we can get rid of her from our body soon, there is no way this whole ordeal stays as it is. And don't get me wrong, I like doing very evil things with overpowered sexdemon, but it's gonna cause too much chaos and derail the quest.
>>
Rolled 8, 13, 18, 19 = 58 (4d20)

>>4905790
>>4906232
>>4906239
[For illusion, which has consensus]
>>
Rolled 1 (1d2)

>>4906246
>>4905790
>>4906232
>>4906239
[For where the humans, who you are slaying it seems, will be left. 1 for here, 2 for Roth's]
>>
>>4906248
Can we dump the... pieces in the sewer?
Also, how does our transformation work in terms of clothing? Do they dissapear and reappear? There was no mention of that.
>>
>>4906248
>>4906246

Your heart is hammering once more, but for different reasons than moments ago. There’s no way your collective moaning—and eventually, screaming—didn’t wake anyone slumbering in the nearby tenements or walking the streets. Paladins could be descending upon you at any moment! You look about frantically, hoping to find a mirror. What do you even look like?!

But then... Does it matter? You may be demon-possessed, but you are still an illusionist by your own will and by your own hand. You shut your eyes, steady your breathing and cease your trembling. You are REPTILIAN. You are no whore in over her head—you merely play on at The Pretty Kitty. You were TRAINED for the slaying of witnesses and disappearing of bodies. You are a cold-blooded killer… Even if you’ve only killed once before, twice counting training.

You weave your taloned hands in channeling somatic gestures, and draw a line across the concrete with toes which now tear through your sensible footwear in wicked hooves. The shadows swirl about you and move to the line you thus etch, swallowing p you and evidence of your crime. You stay there for a moment, wondering if you were overcautious when no activity seems to be forthcoming…


But no, there IS activity! Not the Paladins, thankfully, but a city guard.

“Hullo?”

He hesitates at the edge of the alley, taking a step towards your location. He draws his sidearm, a blunt-looking shortsword, and squints against the darkness you have invoked to envelop you as if it were the sun-s glare. He sees nothing, as blind in the darkness as you are… Well, as you are normally. You see him just fine, now. Another ‘gift’ from Irinnile?

Eventually, the lawman leaves. And why not? It is a spooky, darkened alleyway, and whatever report he received to bring him to this place was no doubt one of public indecency and noisiness, not murder. Obviously, the perpetrators departed.
>>
>>4906262
You look down at the bodies—well, the victims, technically. They’re still alive.

You look at your claws, long daggers of onyx.

"Can you not kill them nexsst time?" you ask the darkness within. “I do not want a repeat performancce of this messss.”

When no response seems forthcoming, you sigh and get to work. You render the two humans like livestock, dispassionate and cold. If you feel anything for your recent lovers as you finish the dark deed, you cut that away just as you remove their limbs, and stuff it into another dark compartment within your soul, next to the demon responsible for this debacle. You deposit some of their remains deep into the nearest trash receptacle, wrinkling your nose at the stench of the late-spring/early-summer filth within even as you muck through it to hide an arm, a leg, a head.

Covered in blood and garbage, wearing torn and stretched attire, you take to the sky on wobbly, unsteady leather wings, carrying portions of Mikhail and, as you now intuitively seems to understand the female victim’s name to be, Abigail. Does a portion of her spirit dwell within your now-filled vessel? Maybe. Most of her is dropped off in several other garbage containers about the area.

Only then, brooding on your errors of judgement on the rooftop, do you set out for Roth’s home.

How do you travel?
>Try to shapeshift back to your normal form, and travel as inconspicuously as possible by foot
>Fly there on wings of darkness—you do not wish to tarry and risk discovery, nor wake the succubus with further use of shapeshifting while in public
>Use the astral plane to reach out to Roth’s mind—he’s probably sleeping, and Irinnile IS a dream demon
>Write-in
>>
>>4906263
>>4906263
>Fly there on wings of darkness, but use rooftops for additional cover—you do not wish to tarry and risk discovery, nor wake the succubus with further use of shapeshifting while in public
Might as well.

In retrospect we should've looted the bodies. Note to Ismena: next time remove the clothes first.

What do we have to do tomorrow? I completely lost the track of upcoming activities. Still wanna pay up that armor-elf.
>>
>>4906273
[You folks have a meeting in the afternoon with Cuggi and Fynn of Engel, to discuss the shirin trade proposal. Edwin of Engel is still hoping for a date day, though you didn't technically commit to tomorrow. You've made no iyr official plans. In the evening, you have work.
>>
>>4906263
>Fly there on wings of darkness—you do not wish to tarry and risk discovery, nor wake the succubus with further use of shapeshifting while in public
>>
>>4906263
>Try to shapeshift back to your normal form, and travel as inconspicuously as possible by foot
>>
>>4906277
>Edwin of Engel is still hoping for a date day
Damn I didn't even notice Edwin had any real hopes, lel. We could do it tomorrow after leaving Roth's place. Hit the armor shop on our way to Engels', then spend time with Edwin before and after the business meeting.
>In the evening, you have work.
Do we ever not have to work in the evening? I didn't exactly notice if we took weekends off.
We could take Edwin to our work and then go go back home with him (or make him sleep at the brothel). Not like he didn't see Ismena dancing before, plus it would let us... corrupt him a little bit by normalizing the idea of our debauchery and our work at brothel. One step closer to controlling him without actually doing any harm.
Not talking about demon-related corruption, btw. Just what I mentioned in (>>4877444).
>>
>>4906263
>Fly there on wings of darkness—you do not wish to tarry and risk discovery, nor wake the succubus with further use of shapeshifting while in public

That fatass owes us some clothes. We're going to need that fucking diadem, or something similar before we do more research into the occult. I'm sure the want will come back, and I want that shit controlled. We're going to have to top off every few days with either hobos or criminals.
>>
>>4906697
A-Anon I don't want any more hands-on occult shit. It's tiring. Let's remove Irinnile for good and focus on passively gaining knowledge to defeat Zivic's demon. No more succubus, no more horny.
Who's the fatass?
>>
[May miss a reply tonight. A friend paid a surprise visit!]
>>
>>4906762
It is tiring, but we should utilize her as much as possible before we remove her, as it will inevitably take some time to find the right ritual for non-lethal extraction and I want to make sure the succubus is paying her damn rent. Plus, I'm of the belief that more control is always better.

Irinnile, bitch couldn't help herself from gorging out first chance she got.

>>4906802
Nice! I hope you have a wonderful reunion!
>>
>>4907063
As I said before, we should deal with Yosef using her shapeshifting and whatever other abilities there are.
>>
>>4906762
Would you be interested in possession by a non succubus demon? Is the SUCC the problem here?
>>
The possession is the problem here. I really don't want any more demonic deals involved. It's not what this quest was about, anyway.
Just imagine what would happen if something demon-related blew up in our face in the TOWER. That would turn shit upside-down and blow our cover entirely.
>>
>>4906279
>>4906444
>>4906697
>>4906273

You do not waste any time, not with shapeshifting and not with further illusion. In a realm of ground-dwelling land-creatures, who even looks up at night? Without the darkness-born vision of your mother's race, what could they even expect to see if they did, and how positively could they identify it? You wing it to Roth's, your only company being the occasional flitting bat or night-bird.

But while it's certainly faster than it would be by foot, you are unaccustomed to your new, aerially-inclined appendages. The body disposal gave you some practice, but that had been small jaunts, not an extended flight. Luckily, you were already headed towards Roth’s general geography when you took this grisly little detour, but you are still surprisingly winded and your back and shoulders sore by the time you descend into small courtyard area where Roth seems to cool his weapons and do his more odorous blacksmith work.

You grab the bucket half-full with water and begin washing the blood and viscera from your talons. Only then to you reach out to knock upon the door…

But it swings open, and there in the darkness, reflective eyes glowing like two fires in the black, is Roth.

“Greetingss,” you begin.

Only at the last moment do you notice the gleam of the moonlight on his sword. Silently he lunges, tackling you with a not-so-silent crash and clatter into a wooden workbench. You grip his swordarm's wrist, keeping the deadly blade aloft, away from the killing blow. You struggle to get an explanation out, but his own claws are around your throat. They are disguised as a human hand to vision, but they are strong and sharp, as with yours. You cannot speak.

What do you do?
>Send Roth a psychic plea to release you, and that you are his fellow Infiltrator
>mind control the raging Dragonblood to let you go and drop his weapon
>Kick him with one of your hooves, and attempt to wrestle him into submission so he had to listen to you
>Surrender—Irinnile SAID a succubus-possessed body would be immune to mundane weapons, and this might be a good opportunity to see what that entails
>Write-in
>>
>>4907360
We're immune?
>Let go of his swordarm and use both hands to attempt to wrestle him into submission
Only then
>Mind control the raging Dragonblood to calm down and drop his weapon
>Offer him a hand (if he ends up lying on the floor)
Dominate him im combat or we'll be once again treated like a sorry-ass bitch, doing the explaining from disadvantageous position. Especially important since afaik Reptilians despise demons and their magic.
It's kind of a sacrilege of the Old Gods, isn't it?
>>
>>4907336
I mean, the shapeshifting is a huge boost to our infiltrator capabilities. I think the risk is worth it, we just need to get a handle on it.

>Send Roth a psychic plea to release you, and that you are his fellow Infiltrator
>>
>>4907415
We just need to train our magic skills for shapeshifting - Foxy has shown that full disguises are completely possible. As for combat, I was pushing the idea of weaponizing our arcane abilities for quite a while.
Let's not forget that while we were completely undetectable alone, Mages' Tower has got to have some kind of protection against demonic powers, or even a way to detect their presence. Om top of that, there's another demon in the city on the loose, actively shitting up the place while mages are investigating the suspicious death of lady Zivic who was deeply involved in demonic rituals. It's only a matter of time before it reaches the daylight or demon makes a mistake and mages/paladins start a demon hunt on a fuckass scale.
Miss me with the succy succy, let's rape minds instead.
>>
>>4907587
[Just checking: is this a separate vote, or >>4907385 ? If the former, what is the vote for?]
>>
>>4907360
>Surrender—Irinnile SAID a succubus-possessed body would be immune to mundane weapons, and this might be a good opportunity to see what that entails
>>
>>4907360
>>Surrender—Irinnile SAID a succubus-possessed body would be immune to mundane weapons, and this might be a good opportunity to see what that entails
It's worth experiencing
>>
>>4907360
>Surrender—Irinnile SAID a succubus-possessed body would be immune to mundane weapons, and this might be a good opportunity to see what that entails

Good time to test out the perks I guess.

>>4907385
>Especially important since afaik Reptilians despise demons and their magic. It's kind of a sacrilege of the Old Gods, isn't it?

Wait, is this true? Did we just blaspheme against our Dark Gods?!
>>
Rolled 5, 11, 9 = 25 (3d20)

>>
>>4908065
RIP. Quest over.
>>
>>4908065
>>4908057
>>4908012
>>4907966
>>4907385
>>4907415

Well, if you must be bound to this accursed entity, you might as well take advantage of its boons.

“The fires of hell itself cannot burn them,” Irinnile had boasted of its kind—and of you, the one who might accept the succubus’ gifts. “Mundane weapons cannot harm them.”

You release your fellow Reptilian’s sword-arm, grappling and wrestling him even as the balde plunges into your vulnerable flesh. Or… not so vulnerable, you hope.

But no, no, NOPE. That FUCKINg hruts! You hear yourself shriek, your voice a vibrating and unearthly roar of pain. Your blood gushes, and pain fills your every sense. Without Irinnile in the driver’s seat, it no longer brings pleasure—only suffering.
>>
>>4908089
“Oooh,” you hear Irinnile’s voice, in the deep recesses your consciousness retreats into to escape your physical form’s agony and possible butchery. “I see what you were playin’ at, Lispy.”

You can muster nor eply—even in your mind, there is nothing but the sharpness of daggers and swords.

“Here, you treated me to dinner,” the succubus continues lazily. “Lemme’ help you out. ‘Least I can do.”

For a time, there is nothing—not pain, but also not sensation of any kind. You hover in darkness, like the Dark Gods before they created the stars, the world—alone. A thought flashes across your lonely mind in the bleak nighttime of your inner world: have you blasphemed against your gods? Can it be so? True, your race has worked with occultists and demons before, but to make a pact with one… To commit body and soul to it…

“To HER,” the succubus’ voice whispers. “Or ‘them’. Not ‘it’. Objectification can be fun, but it runs its course, and your weird nobleman friend summoned me with this tight little form.”

You have no time for arguments about pronouns in some inferior surface-tongue—you are angsting over your mortal and spiritual doom.

“Oh, don’t be so fuckin’ dramatic, Lispy,” Irinnile replies. “Look, I even spared your little dragony friend!”

Your sense of your body returns, and the pre-cosmological blackness fades back into more mundane nighttime sort. You find yourself straddling Roth, his sword buried in your midsection but your hands pinning each of his wrists. You can see fury on his features, not the mindless lust of the humans you ensorcelled… But you feel no resistance. It isn’t that he’s stopped moving; he CANNOT move.

[WANT: 11]

Irinnile’s influence slips into the backseat, and you release his wrists after a moment, and then your grip on his mind. You see the change in his posture, but still eh does not move right away, unsure of what he’s facing or what comes next. You taste his uncertainty, his FEAR even, muted though it may be.

“Come on,” you say in the true-speech of your shared heritage, and you stand up and offer him an outstretched hand. He does not take it, but stubbornly helps himself to his feet.

“What are you, creature?” he demands in the same language.

“Your fellow Infiltrator, ‘Roth’. Rosssgard.”

His eyes widen. “What—”

“Do not be foolish, superior one,” you chastise him. “We’ve been noisy enough. Let us go inside, and speak of it there.”

He hesitates, but nods. You note that he takes up his sword on the way in, though as you look down at your own form, you find yourself unblemished for his brutal stabbing and slashing save for a more ragged and bloody shirt.
>>
>>4908093
What comes next is a great deal of explanation of what has transpired these last weeks, especially the last few days to bring you to… This.

“You have disgraced yourself by communing with lesser, false gods, and with surface-skulking beasts,” Roth concludes, somewhat predictably.

What do you do?
>Agree—you must be rid of the demon’s influence before anything else
>Point out how useful this new power could be for advancing your mission of infiltration and elimination
>Try to use shapeshifting and illusion to dispense of the more demonic aspects of your new form, and to become something more properly Reptilian Humanoid
>Wield your mental powers against Roth, to put him in his place—dominating your ‘superior one’ is kind of fun
>Write-in
>>
>>4908095
>Point out how useful this new power could be for advancing your mission of infiltration and elimination
>Try to use shapeshifting and illusion to dispense of the more demonic aspects of your new form, and to become something more properly Reptilian Humanoid

Yea, went on a lark off a dream. And while this may be a mistake, I'm loath to admit that to Roth.

I can only hope this was the Dark Gods' will, otherwise we really done fuck up here.
>>
>>4908066
[Your DC was only 10 this time, remember? You made it! 11 next time you need to master Irinnile, though.]
>>
>>4908095
>Agree—you must be rid of the demon’s influence before anything else
>>
>>4908095
>Point out how useful this new power could be for advancing your mission of infiltration and elimination
>Try to use shapeshifting and illusion to dispense of the more demonic aspects of your new form, and to become something more properly Reptilian Humanoid

why do you never approve of me daddy
>>
Rolled 6, 11, 9, 9 = 35 (4d20)

>>4908487
>>4908136
>>4908095
>>
File: reptilian.jpg (29 KB, 335x501)
29 KB
29 KB JPG
>>4908509
“The demon has its uses,” you argue.

You aren’t exactly Irinnile’s biggest fan right now, but you’re loathe to admit your poor judgement to Roth. His disapproval makes your double down.

“What possible worth could this deformity have for the mission?” Roth counters.

“Wait and see,” you tell him.

You cannot help but find it incredibly difficult to focus on your illusion under the circumstances, nor have you truly mastered the art of altering your actual appearance with such magic. Irinnile’s power, by contrast feels almost effortless… At least, right now. Your flesh melts like butter, wings slipping into your spine and shoulders where that material belonged, hooves reshaping into feet, talons shrinking down and horns—or something out of your sight, up at your hairline—disappearing into your skull.

You don’t stop there, though. With a small smirk, you will the process to continue. Your tail, docked at birth for better infiltration capabilities, grows out through your shredded pants into a long, serpentine appendage. Your face extends outwards just lightly, as is proper, and your pitiful human dentition sharpens and lengthens into the rending, slicing teeth of a true predator. You hold up your hand before your face and will the scaly patches between your fingers to dark and spread, until at las you are as you SHOULD have been, had you been, had you been born to a proper mating: covered in dark, lustrous golden-green scales.

Roth is staring. At first you take it for lust, but you feel none of that delicious emotion radiating from him. Instead, you sense a mix of ambition and unease.

“Imagine how effectively one with such abilities could be for infiltration and elimination of targets? Imperviousness to non-magical weapons, shapeshifting, control of mind and body, flight…”

“The lack of detectable magic in your disguise was specifically why you were chosen to infiltrate the Tower,” Roth points out. “What now, when you are a tainted creature of lesser darkness?”

It is certainly something to consider, you are forced to concede… But so, too, is Roth forced to acknowledge the strength of your argument. Irinnile’s powers are great and terrible, and have many a potential use.

As the conversation wears on, however, Roth’s criticism and the dramatic events of the night begin to wear on you. Your body still feels like you could go ten rounds with Roth and an army of other desirable personages—you hear Irinnile squeal at the idea, and strongly suspect it originated with the succubus—but your own mind and spirit are exhausted.
>>
>>4908518
What do you do?
>Get some shut-eye—tomorrow is another day
>Sleep in Roth’s bed, and sate a little bit more WANT [seduction]
>Take the opportunity to meditate, and to discuss something with Irinnile [what?]
>Quash your exhaustion and head back into the night to do further infiltration work [what is your target?]
>Shift your form back to normal and head to the Engel residence, before Edwin misses you
>Write-in
>>
>>4908520
>Take the opportunity to meditate, and to discuss something with Irinnile [what?]

What can she tell us about demons? If not herself, others?
>>
>>4908520
>Take the opportunity to meditate, and to discuss something with Irinnile
Ask what powers does she grant us and who could detect her presence within us.
>Sleep in Roth’s bed, and sate a little bit more WANT [seduction]
We didn't promise Edwin to come back tonight, so let's see how can we use shapeshifting for smashing reptilian and figure out whether Want can go below 10. Grow a dick and try to peg him. If it backfires we tell him that demon was behind the wheel.

>>4908066
It's best of all dice.
I recommend reading the 4th post in this thread if you haven't and you're new - Rosgard's skill levels let us roll more dice for difficulty checks and they're worth remembering (level 3 skill = 3d20). Actually just read all the previous threads, heh.

>>4907965
Sorry, I was away and those were both my posts. Should I just start namefagging to avoid confusion in the future?
Also please clarify whether using powers from demons is an insult to Dark Gods. I swear that's how I remembered the visit in library from Thread 1, but reading the archive just confused me.
>>
>>4908520
>Sleep in Roth’s bed, and sate a little bit more WANT [seduction]

Let's see what pure-blooded reptilian sex feels like.

>Take the opportunity to meditate, and to discuss something with Irinnile [what?]

Might as well give it to me straight about our abilities now, what demon is fucking around in Hawksong, and How we can get past the Towers defenses undetected (as impossible as it may see, I'm fully committed to this dream now as with the demon dream).
>>
>>4908986
>Also please clarify whether using powers from demons is an insult to Dark Gods.

[Not necessarily. Reptilians work with fringe surface groups like occultists at times, hence Tokunbo's familarity with your race, and your baseline knowledge of demonology. However, overreliance or active worship of any lesser god or spirit is frowned upon in the same sort of way of showing admiration or affection for mammalian ways would be: it runs contrary to the generally-accepted superiority of Reptilian culture, spirituality, intelligence, and aesthetics. It could be interpreted as a lack of faith in your own ancestral gods (and your Serpent Priests masters), or as going native.]

>namefagging

[If you don't samefag, you needn't namefag, but just be aware that I generalky won't count votes if they aren't direct replies to my post OR obvious labeled as such. That said, the practice of using one's 4chan or thrwad-specific handle doesn't actually offend or annoy me, and I sometimes do it when voting by phone in other threads, so you do you.]

>everyone else
[Posting soon!]
>>
>>4909097
I don't samefag, but do post a lot. Since recently DKvtNWhb mistook me for someone else and now even you weren't sure, I thought some identification might be in order to make things clearer.
Doesn't matter to me much.
Did Roth have a magic blade (I wondered if he would to be honest), or was our form too weak without demon being in charge?

>>4907385
Sorry for slight misinformation, apparently I had some real schizo moment. Thought that Reptilians denounce the idea of human (and other races') gods and demons as pseudo/fake deities and lowly trash worshipped by deluded mammals, so if a Reptilian reached to them it'd be seen both as loathsome and insulting to the Dark Gods themselves. I'll take my meds now.
>>
>>4909097
so it's a ok to USE HER LIKE THE TOOL SHE IS
got it
>>
>>4908575
>>4908986
>>4909040

“I will stay here tonight,” you tell Roth.

He snorts in response, but doesn't refuse. Your entire body tingles at the tacit acceptance and the implication you perceive in it. You'll make it up to Edwin tomorrow—tonight, you're going to master your inner demon and her accursed WANT. Better yet, you're going to learn just pureblooded Reptilian sex is like! The thought brings you back to pubescent fantasies of the burly, savage lizardmen of the coast.

That is, until Roth snaps you out of the juvenile delusion. As you approach him, sashaying into place to press your chest to his own and sliding hands up his back, he takes a step back and shoves you away.

“What do you think you're doing, Degenerate?!”

You are confused by the response. “I don't remember this reluctance before. And now…”

The male laugh bitterly. “Now? Now what?”

You can't help but feel irritation and humiliation welling up in you. How dare he make you explain the obvious? “I have scales, a tail, claws and fangs. I am pure.”

“You have mammaries. Hair. You have a weak and corrupt entity inside you, using your flesh like a suit. You are the LEAST pure you have ever been, Degenerate. That you feel such desire to… COUPLE outside of mating or dominance is further evidence of your corruption.”

“But…”

“Engorged with the thrill of battle and blood, maybe I was tricked into your little contest of bodies and wills. Not tonight..”

You feel your body tremble with rage and shame at this rejection and condemnation. It seems that som Reptilians really are purists about even the casual use of a tool like the succubus. In your mind, you hear Irinnile casually mention that a ‘good pegging’ would put the disrespectful dragon-man in his place. You can't help but harbour some doubt as to how this would affect your working relationship moving forward.
>>
>>4909176
Still, there’s no reason you can’t take advantage of the succubus opening the lines of communication. You turn your back on him and settle into the corner, assuming an only-slightly-huffy meditative stance and squeezing your eyes shut against his judgmental glower. Once you locate the embers of your dark passenger, you send back a series of demands for transparency: about the demon Zivic has allied with, about your new abilities, about how you might hide or suppress the demon’s presence to infiltrate the Mages’ Tower.

“Woah, woah, EAAASSSY there Lispy. I don’t know the first gods-damned thing about what that other demonic muckety-muck is doing, except that he’s making all kinds of pacts of varying worth, and that he’s got a lot of people in play. But, like I said in the bookworm’s basement, I’d be happy to help you investigate…”

You reflect back on Irinnile’s earlier sales pitch, when she—it—listed off the abilities your current pact could offer you: shapeshifting, infiltration and manipulation of mortal minds, entry int the realm of dreams, resistance or immunity to fire and mundane weapons… You’ve had first-hand experience with some of them now, and you can see how several could be useful in hunting the rival demon to ground and putting an end to Zivic’s lingering presence in this world. However, as you reflect on these powers, something troubels you.

“Was Roth’s weapon magical? I certainly didn’t feel immune.”

“Dropping the lisp and speaking plainly now that I know you’re a lizard, huh?” irinnile teases.

“Answer, demon,” you demand tiredly.

“Nah, you just have the pain tolerance of a little baby,” she giggles. “Don’t worry—that’s what I’m here for! I LOVE a bit of pain-play.”
>>
>>4909179

“And as for infiltrating the Tower?”

“It’s always business business business with you,” Irinnile whines, “but yeah, we could have some trouble getting all up in those mana-rich virgins if they see me coming from a mile away with their wizard eyes or whatever.”

“What can we do to resolve this?”

“We-eelll… You know that charm of yours? The one for keeping demons out?”

You reach down to feel the charm that was once around your neck, and panic when you find the silver chain and moonstone-and-sprig amulet are gone.

“Oh, yeah, it burned like a bitch when it touched our skin in the alley, so I ditched it,” Irinnile nervously titters. “Don’t be mad, okay? BUT ANYWAY, there are charms to hide a demon’s presence, too. Just… Trickier, and they need some pretty sophisticated ingredients, and they won’t work against close scrutiny if we get found out. Could probably get us in with an invitation, though. So, gonna’ wear that velvet dress in your closet to the gala with Edwin?”

You ignore Irinnile’s attempt to change the subject, instead reflecing on the option she’s presented to you.

“Or I could excise you entirely, like the liability you are.”

“Aww, come on Lispy, don’t be like that! Ain’t we having FUN? Come on, I know you liked that fuck in the alley. Think about how good we could be together!”

What do you do
>Use your powers to ‘experiment’ with Roth anyway—you know how to spur the mating urge [roll required]
>Enter the dreamscape, to experiment with this power
>Ask irinnile something else [what?]
>Speak with Roth about something else [what?]
>Get some proper rest, to better face the challenges of tomorrow
>Write-in
>>
>>4909185
>Enter the dreamscape, to experiment with this power

Yea, we're totally boned in regards to the gala, aren't we? That we lost our demon charm is understandable, but also makes me mad. At least we can affect other minds, just none of the important ones.

Fun. At least we can nail Zivic and her demon to the metaphorical cross, even if we did fuck up our original mission plan.
>>
>they won’t work against close scrutiny if we get found out
Dropped. Even if we survived getting found out, our superiors will absolutely disappear us when they learn that mission failed, because undetectable half-monkey they created became a whore, romanced an ape and let a vile sex demon possess her body, rendering her only specialty useless. Like seriously, if I was in charge, I'd pull a plug to minimize collateral damage and avoid gathering attention at this point.

>>4909185
>Use your powers to ‘experiment’ with Roth anyway—you know how to spur the mating urge [roll required]
But don't actually do anything. Just get him in a heat then shove him away like he did to us. Pureblood our degenerate ass.
>Ask irinnile something else
Can we remove her from our body and let her materialize on her own? Maybe we could provide a mammal body for her to possess for better disguise? We could still keep her around for more dangerous operations and tell her to find out what the hell is the other demon doing while we enjoy not being tainted and crazy.

We should seriously consider removing this demon from our life.
>>
>>4909419
+1 on winding up Roth and blue-balling his ass.

>Even if we survived getting found out, our superiors will absolutely disappear us when they learn that mission failed, because undetectable half-monkey they created became a whore, romanced an ape and let a vile sex demon possess her body, rendering her only specialty useless.

Frankly, that would've of been the deciding factor on possession for me. It doesn't matter though, for while I may have been supportive of using the demon, I voted against possession.
>>
>>4909479
>that would've of been the deciding factor on possession for me
Deciding factor for getting possessed or against it? It don't quite get it.

Also, let's get one thing straight, cause I think I made a mistake: by "possession" I meant demon occupying our body, not the moments when she takes control of us. Can you say what do you mean by possession?
>>
>>4909575
My bad, I wasn't making much sense there. I was for using the demon, I just didn't know what form it would have taken. I was on the fence on possession, and had I known it would fuck up our main mission so badly, I would've been off the fence against possession. And by possession, I do mean occupation, though taking control from us is a rather sore point on my end. What good is an infiltrator if they can't do what their supposed to do? At this point I would rather take Foxy up on her offer, at least we wouldn't be fucking around with our main mission.
>>
>>4909185
>Enter the dreamscape, to experiment with this power

we should maybe try and get that charm back, or make the hiding one to replace it
>>
>>4909185
>Get some proper rest, to better face the challenges of tomorrow
>>
>>4909705
>>4909696
>>4909575
>>4909479
>>4909419
>>4909330
Well, while you feel increasingly sour about this pact, you can’t deny that exploring the dreamscape seems like an intriguing idea.

“That’s the sssspirit, Lispy!” Irinnile’s disembodied voice cheers you on.

You try to force yourself to relax, to fall asleep… But it’s no good. Your entire body is still energized with the life-force of the two humans you… Consumed.

“Don’t worry,” Irinnile cheerily interrupts, “I got this.”

You see a red, scaly hand materialize out of the aether of your imagination, as if out of a swirling vortex. You hesitate only for a moment before you imagine yourself taking hold of it. The instant you do so, you are pulled forward, yanked onto your feet. You find yourself in your normal form once more, and holding the hand of a demon with golden eyes, pebbly red skin, and a curious mix of reptilian and goat-like features, with a curvaceous body…

And familiar bat-wings.

“Irinnile?” you ask, provoking a flinch from your companion, who releases your hand.

“Yeah, that’s me.”

You look her up and down, and she does a showy twirl.

“You like?” she asks. “I’m a creature of desire, babe. I guess now I’m reflecting YOUR desires a little, too.”

Your desire for acceptance by your mother’s race, and Roth? Your desire for purity? No matter. You look about your new surroundings: a darker, more curiously-hued version of the room you were just meditating in. There, upon his bed, lies Roth.

He has shucked his human disguise—or perhaps it simply does not carry into his dreams?—and in fact looks less humanoid even than his true form. He looks like nothing less than a great dragon sprawled across his mattress. Only as you approach more closely do you see that the mattress is, in fact, made entirely of scorched jewelry… And teeth. A dragon upon his horde. Is this how Roth sees himself, how he dreams himself to be?

“Speaking of desire,” Irinnile interrupts your thoughts once again, slipping into place behind your and massaging your shoulders. “Wanna’ fuck with this asshole? Could be a good opportunity to see how this power works, right?”

You cannot suppress a smirk at the thought of getting Roth back for your earlier embarrassment.

“Very well, demon,” you reply. “Show me what you can do.”

Irinnile squeals happily, and grabs hold of your hand. Pulling you along, she leaps straight at Roth. You instinctively try to pull away, but it’s too late: he expands in your vision until every single scale is a great tectonic plate, and you fall between them, into his inner world.
>>
>>4909766
Roth’s sleeping mind is a black, empty place—a restful cave of the sleeping mind and pure Reptilian soul. It is good and proper that he does not dream—your own hallucinations during torpor are surelya relic of your impure bloodline.

“Well this is dull as dishwater,” Irinnile pouts, tapping her hoof and hands on hips. “Let’s spice it up a bit. POW!”

With a flourish and the unfolding of her great wings, Irinnile floods the darkness with dramatic colour, with a grand hall. There are no windows, no lights, and yet you see clearly that you are within a hall of ornate taopestries and hanging scrolls, each decorated with your people’s subtle, beautiful calligraphy, detailing dates, times, events. The ceiling is decorated in charts f the stars across the aeons, and their movements. You look down, and realize you sit upon a grand throne, sculpted on gold and inlaid with onyx, patterned in the smooth architectural aesthetic and great ornateness of a Serpent Priest.

You leap up, alarmed at the sacrilege, and cast your eyes about for Irinnile to scold her. However, you see no sign of the demon—only two great Steeltalon guards to either side of your throne, who dare not gaze directly upon you without your asking…

For you, in this dream your servant ahs created, are the Serpent Priest.

And there, coming deferentially through the door, is Roth. He shuffles quietly, so as not to offend. His eyes are cast downwards, awaiting permission to behold your glory. He is naked, and in his true form.

“Roth?”
>>
>>4909768
He looks up, eyes widening as if in recognition, and then he looks straight down a the ground again.

“I am apologetic, Holy One. I did not mean to… I did not mean to gaze upon your perfection without permission.”

Hrm. Well THAT has a nice ring.

“Now now, no need for such extreme deference, my Dragonblooded One,” you say smoothly, stepping down from your raised pedestal and striding smoothly towards the male who rejected you. “You have done well, have you not? Served us—me—loyally for years and years?”

Roth says nothing: to answer such a question in the affirmative would be unforgivable impudence and arrogance, to answer it negatively unthinkable insubordination or admission of failure and weakness.

You approach him, and you spy Irinnile out of the corner of your eye, hovering up near a pedestal. With a flick of her fingers, you see her do something to Roth. The dragonblood flinches, and begins to fidget. His breathing grows laboured, and he squirms to hide his unsheathing hemipenes, swelling and growing.

“I… Oh gods, I am deeply apologetic. I do not know…”

You press fingers to his lips, and shush him gently.

“Never fear,” you say softly, reaching down with your other hand to run your finger-tips along his organ. “Perhaps… You have served so loyally as to deserve a reward?”

“I… I…”

“Do you not WANT this great honour, infiltrator?” you ask in mock surprise and offence.

“No! No, I do!”

“Good boy,” you praise him mockingly. “Then say it. Beg for it.”

“I want it! I desire to couple with you, to mate with you! To serve you with my body!”


Only then do you grab his chin and force Roth t meet your eyes with his bleary, heat-blanketed ones. You force him to see you, truly, and to recognize who he has been kowtowing to and lusting for. His eyes clear, and widen.

“DEGENERATE?!”

You shove him backwards, and he topples and trips over his own tale. You tower over him, laughing at his furious and humiliated expression as the dream unravels.

“See?” Irinnile asks, once more your sole companion, hovering before you upside down. “We can be good together.”

You say nothing in reply, still skeptical… But that WAS fun.

“What next?”
>Seek out traces of the Devil-Zivic and its schemes in the dreamscape
>Pay a visit to Edwin’s dreams
>Pay a visit to Agatha Johan’s dreams
>Pay a visit to Lord Isaac Yosef’s dreams
>Seek out someone from the Tower, to infiltrate their dreams for useful intelligence
>Write-in
>>
>>4909769
>Seek out traces of the Devil-Zivic and its schemes in the dreamscape

always fun to dunk on Roth
>>
>>4909769
>Ask Irinnile whether we could SAFELY get inside a mind of a Tower mage
>Ask her if she can do things from within while we're focused on our daily tasks or alternatively when we're asleep
This way we could tell her to go after Z demon as we do other things or at least allow us to use our nights for intelligence gathering.
>Pay a visit to Edwin’s dreams
>Tell Irinnile to rearrange his dreams in such a way that he feels convinced we're completely fine and won't mind us spending night away once he wakes up
I'd specify what and how, but I don't even know what do his dreams look like. Just use suggestive imagery to invoke those specific thoughts.
>Add depraved imagery of Ismena
Will be easier to wrap him around our finger tomorrow.

>>4909606
I myself didn't want to touch the demon at all, but wanted to make things work by meeting halfway and letting her possess someone else or materialize. Now we gotta figure a way to get her out.
I wonder whether we can impress the succubus to make her like us and be helpful rather than unhinged and dangerous.
>>
>>4910050
+1 on calming Edwin down, making his sleep nice and restful. We'll save Zivic and the mage for last, with Agatha and Yosef on a personal lark later. Though I do if we can get into Foxy's dreams as well. Could have some utility there. This dreamscape stuff could really be useful.

I too hope to make a succubus a friend and ally instead of a resentful tool. There's no reason why we can't be friendly to one another.
>>
>>4910121
>Though I do if we can get into Foxy's dreams as well
Foxxer happens to be very knowledgeable about demonology and fully aware of how we could use Irinnile against her. Remember that all it took to BTFO the Z demon from our sleep was a basic charm and the same basic charm easily burned Irinnile's skin later. Focksy very likely has much more dangerous tools on her disposal, so an attempt to infiltrate her sleeping mind will absolutely backfire and I strongly advise against it.

>I too hope to make a succubus a friend and ally instead of a resentful tool. There's no reason why we can't be friendly to one another.
I really, really like the idea of having a neutral-evil accomplice and letting her shag people into dehydration in free time as long as she's careful to not to cause serious harm or show anyone her true form. Just keep a low profile.
Would be amusing to see her take a body from some devout, god-fearing girl and turn her into a freak... or possess Agatha's boss. The latter would give us some interesting options, actually!
>>
>>4909769
>Seek out someone from the Tower, to infiltrate their dreams for useful intelligence
>>
>>4910163
We could visit Agatha's boss' dream, get her hot and bothered about us. Would make for a fun visit in RL.

We can also find out what's been bothering Mina, maybe make her more agreeable with us in general.
>>
>>4910280
>>4910121
>>4910050
>>4909788
“Let's pay Edwin of Engel a visit,” you suggest after taking a minute to ponder. You're away for another night, after all, and after he expressed his concern. Perhaps you can put him at ease.

“A dreamtime tryst with Loverboy?” Irinnile asks, taking your hand. “Hot! I'm in. Think we could get Big Daddy in on it, too?”

“No,” you say, quickly and firmly.

“Aww,” Irinnile says. “You must really like this guy, huh?”

Before you can reply properly, you yelp, caught off-guard as your feet leave what passes for ground I’m the dreams cape. Irinnile ascends upwards with a beat of her wings, and you come after her, levitating along her flightpath as if weightless. Where the waking world of Roth's room has a ceiling, there is instead a whispy mental miasma in the dream-world, which your demonic guide carries you through with practiced ease. You look down, and see what looks at first like a starry sky, or the roof of the Serpent Priests' glorious antechamber in Roth's dream. A moment later, you realize what it truly is: Hawksong by night, from high above, with every star in the ‘sky' signifying a dreamer’s soul. Yes, this particular power could prove VERY useful…

“Do you think it could be possible to infiltrate a Tower mage's sleeping mind?” you ask.

“Inside the Tower?” Irinnile asks, thinking. “Hm. I'm not exactly from ‘round here, but most mages are pretty paranoid about defences like that.”

You sigh.

“But what about staff?” the succubus suggests. “Mages like keeping you petty little peons around to do the dirty work, right?”

“I AM a mage,” you point out. Still, it's an interesting possibility that she raises.

“Ooo! Or, or, you could seduce a mage, bring ‘em home, remove their clothes AND their protections…”

“What about the fox-woman's dreams—could we enter her mind this way?”

Irinnile shudders with distaste and unease, and you take that for a negative. You'd suspected as much.

“How would you feel about maintaining your own body, or inhabiting someone other than me?” You ask. “A human, I mean. Not the fox.”

“Well, maintaining my own form is… Hungry work,” the demon replies. “But a human could work. Why?”

You don't reply, still musing over your options. Would you still have as much control over Irinnile that way? What might the demon get up to without direct supervision? Can you trust it?
>>
>>4910430
Your musings are cut short as you spy the familiar, box shape of the Engel residence, where Edwin lays sleeping… Or doesn't, as the case may be. You and your succubus descend into the residence, 9nly to find that while Fynn and many of their help slumber, Edwin is sitting in his room—an inaccessible shadow, face hidden from the dreaming world by his wakefulness. At first, you assume him to be reading, but as the two of you watch him, you see that the book he holds is a prop; he flips no pages, but glances at the door frequently.

“Aww,” Irinnile coos. “He's waiting up for you, hotstuff.”

You say nothing, but can't help but feel a little warmer than you did a moment ago.

Eventually, the human male sets his book down, body language forlorn. He shakes his head, fluffy his pillow, stares at the door a while longer, and then lays his head down. A short while after that, his clouded face becomes visible, and his body seems to develop a faint aura about it, as if it were more tangible.

“Come on!” Irinnile says, tugging your hand excitedly. “Let's give your big-dick sugar daddy some tender lovin’ care!”

As with Roth before him, you descend into an ever-expanding horizon of Edwin, until you feel yourself pass the barely-perceptible barrier into his consciousness.

In his dreams, you find an Edwin removed from his waking self by several years, closer to your age or perhaps even a few years younger. The surroundings, too, are only partly familiar: it is the Engel household but the décor is marginally less cursory, the paint fresher... And the painting of Edwin's family is on the wall, at the top.of the great central staircase.

What do you do?
>Stalk the dream silently, spying on Edwin's private mindscape
>Find Edwin and give him a steamy dreamy demon three-way to make up for your absence
>Tell Irinnile to lay low—you want to see Edwin alone
>Write-in
>>
>>4910432
>Tell Irinnile to give us a confident and strong appearance
Not dangerous, but strong and able. Wanna symbolize that we can defend ourselves.
>Stalk the dream silently, spying on Edwin's private mindscape
Just a little, maybe we can see his mom
>(If time exists in dreamscape) Jump to tomorrow morning
>Knock on the foor and enter the house, then greet Edwin like normal, but steer the interaction towards dirty stuff
>Give him a steamy dreamy demon three-way to make up for your absence
Make it depraved, let's see if we can corrupt his mind through a dream.

>>4910340
Well, since we now know that Irinnile would prefer a human, all that's left is pick the right target. I stay by Agatha's boss - Irinnile might have fun leading that clothes shop into a more lewd territory, while providing us with helpful utilities. We could help Agatha get a raise or work for it behind closed doors, get better clothes cheaper or free, maybe even have some financial benefit.
At the same time, it could someone else in good position, someone from TPK or a random peasant. Maybe we should ask which would she prefer?
>>
>>4910432
>Stalk the dream silently, spying on Edwin's private mindscape
>Find Edwin and give him a steamy dreamy demon three-way to make up for your absence

I want to understand his state of mind better before we literally start fucking around with it. That way we can better alleviate his fears come morning.

>>4910602
I think a nun would be delicious irony, but we should indeed ask her what she prefers.
>>
>>4910692
Fair enough, my (>>4910602) idea was to first spy on Edwin for a while and only then imitate how tomorrow will look like when we arrive, but appear with an aura of confidence and strength around, so that he thinks instinctively that Ismena can defend herself. Then steer the conversation/interaction we have with him into more raunchy territory and eventually get down with him and let Irinnile slide her way in for more debauchery.
Adjust the initial approach and how extreme we get based on what we see in his original dream/memories. Don't wanna overstep any boundries too hard, but we should at least loosen the potential bonds a little.
>>
>>4910432
>Tell Irinnile to lay low—you want to see Edwin alone
>>
>>4910602
>>4910692
>>4910995

You creep slowly through Edwin’s dream, Irinnile floating lazily behind you. You want to get an idea of what you’re in for before you make any moves. You feel.. Strangely nervous. Is this the same man who you blew behind the Royal Library so casually? When did you start caring about his emotional state?

Why do you kind of want to meet his mom?

On that last note, your silent stalking of the quarry in question—that is to say, Edwin—brings you to a room of the manor you have explored only once: the mostly-emptied office or study which played host to a few dusty relics of Edwin’s mother, and especially her abrogated education as a Tower Mage. By the time you catch up, the door is closed, and you can hear voices coming from within.

“Irinnile, make me look…” You pause, considering your phrasing. Capable. Strong. Confident.”

“Huh? Yeah, alright.”

The succubus twiddled her fingers, swivels her hips, and points at you with both hands. You look down, finding yourself in your velvet dress—the one which Agatha Johan’s employer at The Lacewing Boutique sold you, which you plan to wear at the gala. Nothing else about you, however, seems especially changed.

“That’s all?” you whisper, a little underwhelmed.

“What?” Irinnile whispers back defensively. “Ain’t you feeling more confident?”

“And the rest of my request?” you ask, tapping your foot.

“Uhh… The real strength as inside you all along?” Irinnile says uncertainly, shrugging and sticking out her tongue.

You roll your eyes, and listen at the door.

“…Just don’t know why…”

That’s Edwin’s voice, and he sounds… Somewhat distraught.

“…Can’t lose her, too… What if something… Just too much to…”

You can’t make out all the words, and you almost jump at the reply which comes: a female voice, one you don’t recognize. His mother, surely, or some memory of her? Her voice is quieter, softer, higher in tone. You can’t quite make out the words.

“No, no, you’re right. Hiding anything from me… Talk to her about…”
>>
>>4911067
You consider opening the door a crack, but before you can, the door swings open, and you nearly fall in. You catch yourself before you tumble too far, hand gripping at the body of the man before you. Despite the confused, startled look on his face, Edwin’s hands instinctively find your back and hips, and he helps you stand back up.

“Izzy?” he asks. “I was… Uhh…”

‘Just talking about you’, perhaps? You glance over his shoulder, but save for the room being better organized and furnished, it is as you last saw it in the waking world. There is an open window, but no sign of anyone else in the room. You feel a strange, eerie feeling—an instinct that something is off.

Before you can think too deeply about it, you feel Edwin’s heart hammering, his grip on you tighten slightly… And feel a familiar swelling against your abdomen. It’s distracting, to say the least. You meet his eyes, and Edwin releases you and takes a step back after a moment.

“Sorry, I just… IS that a new dress? You look…” the male asks, eventually settling for. “Astonishing.”

You can’t help but feel a smug smile slip into place.

“You think sso?” you ask, slipping back into the northern common-tongue. “I wass thinking about wearing it to the gala in a couple weekss.”

“Oh! Right, yes. I should probably get something nice for that, too, shouldn’t I?” Edwin laughs, still looking you over with a hungry expression. “I’ll stand out like a sore thumb in my usual robes, next to you.”

“Well,” you say, striding forwards and manoeuvring him towards a wall, “if you find yoursself needing a bit of time away from the fesstivitiess, we can always find a private corner ssomewhere…”

You pin his larger body to the wall with your own, and your hands begin to roam under his robes, parting and unbuttoning them for ease of access as you kiss and bite his neck. Edwin groans, putty in your hands… Though, you note with some satisfaction, actually quite a bit harder than that in a literal, physical sense.

“Well fuck, Lispy, I don’t think anyone walkin’ around with one of THOSE needs to be too worried about impressing anyone! And here I thought ‘well-hung shy nerdy nice guy’ was just a dumb fantasy horny mortals like that Bianchi boy made me act out for kicks.”
>>
>>4911069
Edwin’s eyes go wide, and he looks past you at, you rpesume, Irinnile.

“Wh-what? Who is… What is going on, Izzy?”

You glance back, finding that the succubus has at least ahd the common sense to adopt a less obviously-demonic look: a golden-eyed, fair-skinned human female with pigtails in lieu of horns, wearing tight red leather in lieu of her reddish skin.

“Jusst a friend who wass interesssted to meet you,” you say calmly.

“Meet, greet, and eat!” Irinnile corrects, shamelessly dropping to her knees before Edwin. “Mmmm, there’s some untapped mana in this one, Lispy. Fuck, you didn’t tell me he was so delicious! Is he a mage after all?”

Hm. Interesting comment…

“Izzy,” Edwin says, stammering only slightly. “I’m not sure about… OH!”

Whether it’s the sight of Irinnile ‘chowing down’, or Edwin’s gasping, impassioned responses to same, you find it hard to focus on business for once. Giving yourself over to the dream, and to the increasingly-intense aura of lust produced by the succubus, you find yourself joining in before too long.

What follows next is an increasingly kinky threesome—and you’ve had your fair share of those in your short time of Hawksong, so you should know. Master and mistress to the human and demon alike, you guide the dance wherever you would like. Inexhaustible reserves of energy and a timeless quality makes the experience seem to last hours, and still you cannot get enough of the pair of them—their hands, mouths, bodies..

“I-Izzy… Gods above, you’re both so…”

“Hey, Lispy, daylight’s breaking,” Irinnile whispers urgently in your ear.

“Hold that thought, Edwin,” you say with a soft smile. “I’ll ssee you ssoon.”

Edwin looks confused. “What do you mean? It’s daylight now... It ahs been the whole time. Where are you going?”

Irinnile offers you a hand, and you take it as she guides you to the window. Edwin looks panicked for a moment, struggling to pull his underclothes and robes back on. “Wait, what are you doing?!”

The demon leaps out the window, taking you with her. Edwin rushes to try to stop you, but he needn’t, of course: Irinnile’s wings explode outward from her leather garb, and carry yous afelya way from this place, this man’s mind, and back to your own body.

When you awake, it is in Roth’s room. The Dragonblooded Reptilain is in his bed, still asleep and tossing and turning uneasily, looking deeply annoyed. You are still cross-legged on the floor, feeling both tired and refreshed in an unusual way—satisfied and a bit worn out mentally, but with a sense of both physical vitality and WANT.

[WANT: 12]

What do you do?
>Wake Roth to relieve some WANT
>Beeline it for Edwin’s home, to catch up in the waking world
>Slip out and go see about getting some replacement clothing from The Lacewing Boutique
>Go grab some new alchemical attire from the half-elf who made your armour
>Write-in
>>
>>4911071
>Go grab some new alchemical attire from the half-elf who made your armour

We can also satisfy our WANT there as well. Unless Roth is willing to worship us instead of course.

Anyways, seems someone/something is fucking with Edwin's mojo by the sound of it. We'll have to investigate further.
>>
>>4911071
We have shapeshifted back to our original form, right? Just want to make sure of that before we leave Roth's place.
>>
>>4911104
[A good question! No, but for the low, low price of +1 WANT, you can!]
>>
>>4911071
>Wake Roth up and coldly scold him for oversleeping like some mammal and for his morning wood
>Ask what the hell he dreamed about, cause you somehow doubt it was "thrill of battle and blood" that got him so "engorged" this time
He can actually go fuck an iguana if Ismena isn't scaly and green enough.
>Go grab some new alchemical attire from the half-elf who made your armour
If by "alchemical attire" we mean new clothes for dirty work (don't mind if it's magical-ish, just making sure we replace sneak clothes with sneak clothes).
>Pay up for the Leafweave armor

Is The Lacewing Boutique the place where we got the armor?

>>4911098
>mojo
Yeah I sure do hope that isn't the other fucking demon or we will have to put our succubus in a vehicular manslaughter mode asap. We're gonna have to sneak up on that bitch.

>>4911336
No offense, but that should've been mentioned in the post, QM. Thought we'd change automatically when we decided to leave during the day.
Even though I'd love to go out into Hawksong full Demon Lord like it's fucking Skyrim... let's switch back before shitting on Roth and leaving.
>>
>>4911069
>And here I thought ‘well-hung shy nerdy nice guy’ was just a dumb fantasy horny mortals like that Bianchi boy made me act out for kicks.
At least she's not one of those succubi who present horny mortals like Bianchi with those dumb fantasies, right?
:>
>>
>>4911342
>The Lacewing Boutique
[This is where Agatha Johan works, where you acquired your velvet dress and your Kamunu outfit]
>>
>>4911511
Ah, then we should inquire the half-elf about her shop's name!
>>
>>4911071
>Slip out and go see about getting some replacement clothing from The Lacewing Boutique
>>
>>4911336
Yea, I think that's for the best.

>>4911342
Just ask why Roth's engorged, I want him to bring up the fact that he was dreaming like a pathetic degenerate or stay silent on his dream and we can slowly turn him into a sub that gets off on humiliation by us through said medium.
>>
>>4911613
can we not
>>
>>4911669
Sure.
>>
>>4911071
>Beeline it for Edwin’s home, to catch up in the waking world
>>
>>4911613
Even though I don't mind getting fetishy, it's too coomery for a blue board and I don't wanna lose this quest, because RQM was forced to endure writing softcore smut with a hooved demon and cucked reptilian for a week straight. Actually I hope he will speak his mind if we push things too far rather than abandon the ship.
As for Roth, I thought, that he got over verbally abusing and humiliating Ismena, but after that (>>4909176) update he should be shamed and treated equally as bad as she is. Next time the Dragonblooded gets his ass handed to him, it's his problem - he's just an expendable tool in the grand scheme of things. Also fuck the artificial pride of his.
t. (>>4911342), anon who wants to scold him

>>4911511
I hope you won't abandon us after recent succubus/horny/Edwin developments, RQM. You could always steer things off of this path if it's unpleasant for you.
>>
[Sorry for the delay in reply--I wasn't feeling well last night. Indigestion and a bit of heat exhaustion, methinks. Posting now!]
>>
Rolled 18, 3, 5 = 26 (3d20)

>>
>>4911712
>>4911613
>>4911557
>>4911342
>>4911098
You look down at your demonically-warped body and your tattered, bloodied clothes. This, you conclude, simply will not do. Should you pay q visit to Agatha Johan at The Lacewing Boutique? Or, wait… No! What about that half-elf's emporium, where you purchased your armour? You still have to pay the balance on your suit, after all.

‘And she WAS cute,’ you hear Irinnile chime in from the back of your mind, presumably surveying your memory of your last visit.

“I can't travel there like THIS in broad daylight,” you point out to Irinnile. “Change me back.”

You can sense her disappointment, but she complies without incident. Perhaps your dreamed conversations earned you some goodwill… Or perhaps the demon is waiting for a more opportune moment to seize control once more. Whatever the case, you watch talons recede, scales skin on your hands and arms shift back to humanoid skin, and feel your tail recede back to the site of the scar which serves as evidence of the real one which was amputated in your youth.

[WANT: 13]

The use of your powers causes an ache in gut and groin, which you suppress. However, your eyes drift to Roth's sleeping form, and his obvious arousal. Irinnile grows excited, but you stymie her infernal lust. You have other plans for your fellow infiltrator.

“Haruhi, what?” Roth groans and grumbles as you nudge him awake.

“Rise up to serve the masters, Infiltrator, “ you hiss in sing-song voice. “Surely you do not intend to remain in torpor all day, like some lazy mammal?”

Roth glowers at you, but you simply smile and point down at the tented sheets.

“Dreaming of battle, were we?” you mock him.

“What? ‘Dreaming’? No, of course not!”

“Oh? Then is there some sort of urgent need to breed, oh superior one?”

He says nothing, instead huffing staring at you with obvious desire. Despite the way this makes your succubus-affected body tingle, you have no intention to satisfy his desire, though.

“I have business to attend to in Hawksong,” you say, tone studiously professional. “Unfortunately, you must attend to such matters yourself, and please, try not to let your DEGENERATE urges get the best of you in the future.”

“You impudent little…”

You snatch up some of his clothes and change out of your ruined ones and into the larger male's. They're baggy on you, but they'll do for now. If he has any objections, his shame silences them. Perfection.
>>
>>4912093
You depart your contact’s abode through the back door, taking up your backpack with you. Counting your coin from the previous night’s performance, and what Edwin gave you, you should have enough to pay off the leafweave armour AND to get something suitable for stealth, as well as some of the alchemical concoction used to maintain the leaves' vitality. However, your stomach tells you it might not be a bad idea to save some coin for lunch—it seems you cannot live on mana alone.

Your thoughts carry you to the boutique where your armour was purchased. You struggle to recall the mousy proprietress' name.

‘Qicerys,’ your demonic passenger provides.

Ah, that’s right. You step inside, and greet her warmly by name, interrupting some sort of herbological task involving a mortar and pestle.

“Remember me?” you ask.

“…Oh, it’s you!” she squeaks after a moment.

What do you do?
>Pay off your armour and restocking the reagents used to maintain it
>Extend your tab to purchase something custom [specify any requirements]
>Buy a suitably-practical tunic and breeches ‘off the rack’
>Ask after poisons, potions, and other alchemical concoction which could prove useful in dealing with Yosef or others
>Attempt to seduce Qicerys [requires roll, can be used as leverage to extend tab and/or to assuage WANT]
>Write-in
>>
>>4912082
>I hope you won't abandon us after recent succubus/horny/Edwin developments, RQM. You could always steer things off of this path if it's unpleasant for you.

[I appreciate the concern, but if I get annoyed I'll just fade to black more readily and gloss over the mood-setting details. Rest assured that this quest WILL be seen to a conclusion of some sort, nd never abandoned mid-thread for any reason as petty as 'players got too horny'. If I was going to ditch you folks over that, I would have done so when you blew that dude in the alley in a thread 1, or at one of the several threesomes.]
>>
>>4912094
>Buy a suitably-practical tunic and breeches ‘off the rack’

>Pay off your armour and restocking the reagents used to maintain it

>>4912099
If it does get to be too much I'm open to swapping out Irinnile for a non coom demon.
>>
>>4912229
There are other ways to.feed an emotion-sapping dream demon
>>
>>4912094
>Pay off your armour and restocking the reagents used to maintain it
>Say we're sorry it took us this long to return
>Ask who made the alchemical Leafweave armor (unless we know it's her)
This way we might find the alchemist without directly asking.
>Buy a suitably-practical tunic and breeches ‘off the rack’

We should ask Irinnile if her skills can help in dealing wiyh Yosef and whether she'd be okay to jump out of our body to possess someone else to aid us while remaining mostly autonomous. This will solve our issue with constantly being busy and having no assistant.

>>4912099
Glad to hear that!

>>4912229
>>4912234
How about we swap her for no demon? Shit's not worth the maintenance when we can ace most illusion/seduction rolls.
>>
>>4912364
I'd rather ace all those rolls, and get the plenty of other benefits demons provide as well. Doesn't immunity to mundane weapons appeal to you at all considering our wererat problems?
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>>4912592
Not worth it. Demon possession is a shitshow and I don't enjoy solving all problems by being OP. Eventually QM will have to either drop something even deadlier than the succubus on our head or curse Ismena harder to balance for your sudden weapon immunity, razor-sharp claws, flying, mind control, dream infiltration, dream editor, shapeshifting, item materialization and whatever else she can do.
Also read >>4909419
>>
>>4912655
I have read that post, and yours, and I still think it's worth it. We're not too OP - we can hardly storm the tower, and we'd still lose a fight to Roth or fox lady I bet. The rest of your reasons are pretty meta and show a disappointing lack of faith in RQM.
>>
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>>4912784
>>4912655

[Don't sweat it. I'd neitehr give you useless powers nor powers I wasn't prepared to write challenges for. The Tower itself is an obvious challenge, since it is both your main objective AND full of magical threats which can beat your invulnerability... Which isn't' to say that Irinnile couldn't be a benefit, used correctly. Posting soon!]
>>
>>4912094
>Pay off your armour and restocking the reagents used to maintain it
>Buy a suitably-practical tunic and breeches ‘off the rack’
>Attempt to seduce Qicerys [requires roll, can be used as leverage to extend tab and/or to assuage WANT]

This is to assuage WANT, not blant coomerism. I want the DC as low as possible, at all times. The worst think that can happen is if the succubus takes control and starts fucking around during an actual mission.

>>4912082
It hasn't gotten coomer-central yet, and that's with our 'profession'. I think it says something about the quest and it's readers really.

>>4912229
Frankly, I think the succubus fit us best out of all the demons, and with our job we can assuage WANT pretty easily. It'll be weird to reject in favor of a regular fire-and-brimstone demon and have to try and fill up THAT demon with actual souls or some other exotic shit that will be a pain to get.

>>4912592
That I don't know. We're supposed to be the infiltrator, yet they must be able to detect our demon possession. If possession sacrifices the mission, I will give her up to continue.

>>4912655
>I don't enjoy solving all problems by being OP
>managing a demon is somehow OP

I say it's more of a challenge now from our demon power-up, but that's because I'm still thinking like an infiltrator. We can at least tie up lose ends with Zivic and the wererats, and maybe some of our less pressing objectives then the Tower (such as information gathering and Yosef) before we have to drop the possession.
>>
>>4912875
>>4912364
>>4912229
“Ssorry is took me a while to come back,” you say. “I brought the money to pay off that armour, though! And a little bit for ssome reagents to maintain it. Maybe even a few other things!”

“It’s not problem,” Qicerys says quickly, only belatedly taking the money. She fumbles for a while, setting mortar down, taking the bag of coins, setting pestle belatedly down, realizing the pestle bshould be WITH the mortar, and finally pouring the coisn out to count them.

“So… Ah… Did you get much sue out of the armour at… Work?”

You wink and answer, not untruthfull, “After a fashion.”

The half-elf nods and flushes slightly, not meeting your eyes. Your succubus senses tell you that she’s imagining you in her armour even now, and not in any wholesome fashion.

“Do you make this sstuff yorusself?” you ask innocently. “Because, I have to ssay… My compliments to the chef!”

“Oh! Uh, well, I… Do most of the work. The reagents are made in-house, but the actual plant-0life… I grow what I can here. A lot of it has to be, um, imported. Hawksong’s climate is… Not perfect for all plants, it must be said.”

“Too cold?” you hazard.

“Not enough ambient magic,” Qicerys corrects you. “Not compared to home.”

“You’re from the homeland of the elves?” you ask, surprised. You’ve heard only rumours of the place, mainly from books in the Royal Library and a cursory overview from infiltrator training.. “I thought half-leaves were more common in human settlements.”

Qicerys laughs, a bit bitterly to your ear. “Well, you know… Stuff happens.”

You can hardly argue with that, given your own genesis.

“Sso… Do you have anything more akin to sstreetwear?” you ask, changing the subject.

The half is eager to accommodate the subject change, and before long you have a number of green-and-gold elven-style tunics, with their high collars and tie-closed fronts. They’re a bit tight on your physique, fuller than typical for an elven female. In fact, you’re pretty sure your bust and hips are more prominent than they were yesterday.

“Guilty,” you hear Irinnile cackle from somewhere deep inside.

Luckily, the half-elf’s haling assistant—the female one,--is able to make some necessary adjustments. By the time you leave, you’re fully-clothed and more stylish than you’ve ever been/ Best f all, elf females are no stranger to leafweave breeches, not as squeaky or inflexible as leather but with an alchemical treatment that makes them just as rip-resistant. Your new attire is twice as stylish and exotic as your old ‘stealth suit’, but just as practical and comfortable as any human menswear. Granetd, it’s perhaps a bit more eye-catching than the more mundane, human attire.
>>
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>>4912879
“How do I look?” you ask, striking a pose.

The half-elf’s face is bright red, and she chews her lower lip subtly.

“Um,” she says.

You can sense Irinnile is attracted to the elf—not in the sense that she has affection or even lust for her, but in the sense that the elf’s own attraction to You draws the succubus. The demon desires desire itself, it seems.

“Considering jumping hosts?” you ask silently.

“Would that I could!” Irinnile says. “I mean, no offence, but who doesn’t like elves?”

You roll your eyes slightly, wondering why irinnile doesn’t do so, then.

“Can’t,” the demon replies. “The ritual and contract bind me to you. You’d need a new one to release and rebind me.”

Unfortunate, but you duly note this complication, along with the rest of the occasionally-useful shitshow that is demonic possession.

It’s sill morning and you have horus before you need to be at the Clam ‘n Kettle for a shirin-related business meeting with Fynn and Cuggi. What do you do?
>Talk about toxins and potions with Qicerys
>Invite the half-elf to attend a soiree with you and Bianchi in a couple nights—maybe you can see about transferring Irinnile to Qicerys later?
>Pay up and leave
>’Extract some mana’ and assuage your WANT with the half-elf [seduction roll required]
>Go grab some breakfast—you’re starved
>Go see Bianchi about demonological research
>Check in on Lord Yosef--maybe the demon can be useful for tying up loose ends there?
>Seek out sgns of the Devil-Zivic and its mortal thralls
>Go wererat hunting in the backalleys of Hawksong
>Head to the Engel household, to see Edwin and prepare for your meeting
>Write-in
>>
>>4912883
>Talk about toxins and potions with Qicerys
>’Extract some mana’ and assuage your WANT with the half-elf [seduction roll required]

I don't know about a soiree, but I'm definitely open to transferring Irinnile to Qicerys, as long as we maintain control of both.
>>
>>4912883
>Pay up and leave
>>
>>4912883
>Go grab some breakfast—you’re starved
>Go wererat hunting in the backalleys of Hawksong

If you guys wanna ditch the succ we should at least use her for this first
>>
>>4913211
I want to test out all the bells and whistles first, really see what we can do with the succubus before we come to an informed decision.
>>
>>4913211
Plus, we can at least increase the half-elf's desire for us. Having a magical crafter as a contact isn't a bad idea.
>>
>>4912883
>Compliment Qicerys' work flirtatiously, steer the conversation towards toxins and potions
Not full-on seduce her, but use the weakness our horny-vision revealed to us.
>Pay up and leave
>Beeline it for Edwin’s home, to catch breakfast

>>4912875
>>4913211
Aight, I came off a little strong about ditching succ, sorry for that. I'm fine with keeping Irinnile until we have dealt with Yosef, wererats and maybe figured out who is Edwin's dream visitor (although we could just tell the demon to spy on his dreams without us).
And lemme pitch Agatha's boss for possession again unless she's ugly: she owns an upper-class boutique, which would yield us higher benefits from the business, easy access to top-shelf clothing and all the possible information from gossips among the rich. It'd be a more 'fun' place for succubus to be as well, given that it's a likely exclusively clothing/tailoring business, so she would have more chances to perv.
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>>4913243
Chillax, don't you remember that Ismena is more than capable of seducing people herself? Besides, this hellf's desire doesn't seem to need any help increasing.

Oh btw. Why did Irinnile rescar Ismena if she made her assets bigger?
I guess it makes sense to not alert Edwin... but then again, our tits and ass have grown for no reason.
>>
>>4913245
We can check Agatha's boss again after the meeting, but like Irinnile said, who doesn't like elves?

>>4913259
>I guess it makes sense to not alert Edwin... but then again, our tits and ass have grown for no reason.

Are you calling us fat? That alone will shut down any conversation on our growing 'assets' ;^)
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>>4913269
>Are you calling us fat?
I fucking hate this sentence. Yes, bitch, I'm calling us fat.
That whole post was more supposed to shift attention towards the fact that it seems like succubus can make slight tweaks to our real form, which could be used for stuff. Like pegging that /pol/ faggot, Roth. As long as she's inside us, anyway.
>>
>>4913269
>who doesn't like elves
Everyone. They just want to colonize them.
>>
>>4913057
>>4913066
>>4913211
>>4913245
>Talk about toxins and potions
>Pay up and leave

“Sso, you don’t make the armour or sew the clothes—”

“Well, not from scratch, I mean,” Qicerys says, looking down bashfully and rubbing her arm.

“—But you musst make all kinds of conconctionss, then, if you’re the alchemist behind, um…”

“I have a sign coming tomorrow,” she says apologetically. “The store is called ‘The Enchanted Grove Alchemical & Floral Boutique’.”

This might be the most words the half-elf ever said to you without stammering or blushing. Admittedly, this also might be the most you’ve said to Qicerys without flirting with her for fun or profit.

“I like it,” you say of the store’s name, and Qicerys looks up at her with a sparkle of pride in her eyes.

“You’re right, to: I make all the potions here. Skin creams, hair oils, stain removers for household use or garments, and everything for… Uhh… Well, you know about your armour, and exotic plant care in general I… Guess…”

She trails off, eventually simply coughing and smiling nervously. “Sorry, I’m being boring, right? I like my job quite a lot, but compared to what YOU do for a living, it must seem quite drab and unexciting.”

You raise an eyebrow. “And if I ssaid it was cute?”

The half-elf’s cheeks grow rosy again.

“Come on now,” he say, casually leaning into the counter in a way that accentuates your demon-enhanced ‘assets’, “I’m ssure ssome high rollerss would pay a copper or two for ssome pretty dodgy, interesting sstuff. What’ss the mosst bizarre request you’ve gotten?”

Irinnile gives you the mental equivalent of a high five for your smooth transition. You considered borrowing her manipulative power to extract the info more directly, which she must surely realize, but… Well, you’re an Infiltrator. This is child’s play, with the new senses Irinnile has already afforded you added to your own instincts for playing with foolish mortals.

“Well…” Qicerys begins

She looks around nervously, especially eyeing the door for fear of another customer coming in. However, she is all too eager to impress you.

“Sometimes,” she whispers conspiratorially, “a few of the, shall we say, ‘young women of higher standing’ come here asking for herbs. Just raw herbs. But I’ve studied herbology. The stuff they’re asking for can only be useful for a few things: a poison, a strong sedative, or…”
>>
>>4913543

“…Ending a pregananccy,” you finish. You’ve had cause to be trained in such matters, of course.

Qicerys nods, adding: “Sometimes, they’re from the Tower! I think it must be a mage there that’s mixing the stuff together and determining dosages.”

Hm, now THAT’S a potentially useful tidbit of information. You ply Qicerys for more, but ultimately she is unwilling or unable to give a clear idea of who the underground abortion alchemist of The Mages Tower might be, and you are hesitant to push too hard. You promise t return to see the half-elf and her wares later, and you make your leave before your rumbling stomach spoils your allure.

‘Where to?’ Irinnile asks from within.
>The half-orc’s food cart in front of the library—it’s been a while
>A nicer restaurant—you have slightly limited funds on-hand, but surely you can seduce or manipulate your way into a discounted meal?
>Edwin of Engel’s home—no need to worry him any longer, and you’ll get free food and maybe some more coin there
>Skip breakfast, you have more important matters t attend to first [wererats? Yosef? Other?]
>Write-in
>>
>>4913545
>Edwin of Engel’s home—no need to worry him any longer, and you’ll get free food and maybe some more coin there
>>
>>4913545
>Edwin of Engel’s home—no need to worry him any longer, and you’ll get free food and maybe some more coin there
Mainly food if all agree on making this a date day with a break for business meeting.
>Ask Irinnile whether those curious... adjustments she made to your body are permanent or will they disappear once she leaves

We should also ask whether she had any previous summoners and if she prefers to live in her realm or roam the surface. Would be a handful of questions for an Edwin update, though. Unless RQM is up for a longer multipost.
>>
>>4913545
>A nicer restaurant—you have slightly limited funds on-hand, but surely you can seduce or manipulate your way into a discounted meal?
>>
>>4913545
>Edwin of Engel’s home—no need to worry him any longer, and you’ll get free food and maybe some more coin there
>>
>>4914264
>>4913945
>>4913828
>>4913754
You decide that you've made poor, silly Edwin wait long enough. While you hope the dream last night has helped to assuage his concerns, he really had no way of understanding that it WAS anything other than a particularly vivid fantasy.

“You know, big dick and abundant mana reserves aside, I really don’t get what the big deal is with this guy,” Irinnile comments from within.

“You're talkative today,” you send back. “Maybe you can answer some questions I've been musing over, while we walk.”

“We could fly,” Irinnile grumbles.

“It's broad daylight,” you note dryly. “Have you ever been summoned before?”

“Popular, pretty little thing like me? Oooh yeah, they want me like water or wine!”

“And what do you think of the surface world?” you ask. “Do you prefer it to your own realm?”

“Do you?” the demon counters. “For me, it's like the world's biggest buffet and amusement park, and the aetherial darkness is a snoozefest full of pent-up assholes, all of ‘em grumbling about not being here, or parleying their soul-power in magical dick-measuring contests.”

“Sounds right up your alley,” you quip back.

“Not literal dicks,” the succubus sighs. “no fun at all. But what about you? Why are you here?”

“My mission,” you state automatically. “The Grand Design places my destiny here.”

“Lispy,” Irinnile says, almost sounding as if she pities you, “you don't really believe all that cult shit, do you? We both know a con when we see one, right?”

What do you say?
>Lambaste the faithless lesser spirit in the name of the Dark Gods and the Serpent Priests, to whom you owe your life
>Concede to hosting private doubts, deep in your soul, and ask Irinnile what makes her so sure it’s false
>Acknowledge the possibility that not all you have been raised to believe it true, but stand by the mission for your own personal ambition and glory
>Say nothing and walk to rest of the way to Edwin's in silence—you are too conflicted
>Write-in
>>
>>4914359
>Lambaste the faithless lesser spirit in the name of the Dark Gods and the Serpent Priests, to whom you owe your life

goddamn heathens
literally
she's a demon
she's a heathen who is damned by god by definition
>>
>>4914359
>Lambaste the faithless lesser spirit in the name of the Dark Gods and the Serpent Priests, to whom you owe your life

You may be right Irinnile, but if the stars didn't align I wouldn't have been alive, let alone where I am today. I can't turn my back on the Dark Gods that let me live, even if I wanted to. Loyalty is ever a precious commodity, and I owe them my existence.

>Ask Irinnile what makes her so sure it’s false

I am interested in what heathens have to say on this matter though.
>>
>>4914359
>Say nothing and walk to rest of the way to Edwin's in silence—you are too conflicted
>>
>>4914359
>Lambaste the faithless lesser spirit in the name of the Dark Gods
but also
>Ponder where you - a Degenerate - will end up in the Grand Scheme once it's all over. What will happen to you once the human empire crumbles?
I don't want to betray anything, but I'll be damned if Ismena lets the snakes fuck her over.
>Ask Irinnile what makes her so sure it’s false
>Ask what were her previous interactions with summoners like. What did they want from her?
Also these.
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>>4914956
I'd go with "private doubts", but it sounded too rebellious. I just want Ismena to act smart and acknowledge that Reptilians have their issues (who sent that manchild, Roth to Hawksong?) and that her pedigree could put her in a less-than-ideal position once her mission comes to an end. Especially given that she's one of the untouchables among snakes.
>>
>>4914956
>>4914915
>>4914576
>>4914416
“It doesn't surprise me to heat such accusations from a demonic heathen, damned by its very definition by true gods,” you snap.

“Riiight,” the succubus drawls. “And I'm sure the Dark Gods are on so much better terms with the rest of their colleagues than us demons?”

“They do not NEED the approval of lesser deities. They are more powerful, more ancient…”

Irinnile laughs. “Hey, Lispy, you ever consider that EVERY god might say that? And let me guess: your people were specially chosen, too? Typical. Face it, baby, a god is a demon with a better public image, and yours don't even have that.”

You say nothing for a time, digesting these uncomfortable accusations.

“You may be right,” you say eventually, “but if the stars didn't align I wouldn't have been alive, let alone where I am today. I can't turn my back on the Dark Gods that let me live, even if I wanted to. Loyalty is ever a precious commodity, and I owe them my existence.”

“Well, you do strike me as the weirdly-loyal type,” the demon acknowledges. “After all, look where we are!”

Indeed, you have arrived at the gates of the House of Engel. You greet the human male manning the front gates with the familiarity afforded by your protracted stay here, and step inside. It feels, oddly, a bit like coming home.

Somewhere inside you, your doubting demon wonders what would become of this place and then men within it, when the Age of Scales begins. And what of you? What place will there be for a half-human Degenerate, in a world where Reptilians like Roth reign?

“Izzy?” Edwin asks, from the top of the stairwell. The servants must have notified him of your return. “You were out all night again…”

“I wass,” you acknowledge without apologizing.

Edwin seems uncertain how to reply, but before long he is descending the stairwell and embracing you.

“That new dress looks… Very good on you.”

You hold back a snickering, wondering if it's the dress, the modifications Irinnile made to the body underneath it, or just the lingering effects of the dream last night.

“Have you had breakfast yet?” Edwin asks, breaking the embrace. When you shake your head, he grins. “Eggs, bacon, and a glass of cool water, right?”

You reach up to lift his pointy cap and to ruffle his hair. “You know me sso well.”

“You eat like one of the underground lizard people in that Rilney fellow's book,” he laughs.
>>
>>4914987

You freeze, silently fearful of discovery… But then with, with a slight blush and a clearing of his throat, Edwin adds: “Can't argue with the results, though. Maybe I should go on that diet, too?”

To your relief and amusement, the unsophisticated male is just attempting to compliment your figure. He must think the slight change in your body is a matter of exercise and diet. You join him for breakfast, sitting perhaps a little closer than necessary as you savour your protein-rich breakfast and one another's presence.

What do you talk about?
>The adventurers from last night
>The news around Hawksong
>Edwin’s magic studies
>Edwin's continued reading of Rilney
>Arranging a date day
>The business meeting this afternoon
>Write-in
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>>4914989
>The news around Hawksong
>The business meeting this afternoon

uggghghghg Rilney
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>>4914989
>The news around Hawksong
But try to get updates on investigation of fire at Zivic's and stuff that Gay Press put out lately.
>Arranging a date day
We can get it over with today and try to corrupt Edwin a little with demonic help.
>The business meeting this afternoon
Money.
>Try to read his thoughts/emotions
Like with Quicerys.
>>
>>4915046
+1
>>
>>4915046
support
>>
>>4914989
>Edwin's continued reading of Rilney
>Edwin’s magic studies
>>
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>>4915772
>>4915654
>>4915512
>>4915046
>>4915031

“Iss your father home?” you ask. “We have that meeting today…”

“Ah, the spice,” Edwin says.

“Yess. Hass he tried it? Did he say anything to you about his thoughts on the shirin, or about the meeting?”

“We haven't spoken much since we all ate breakfast together yesterday, to be quite honest. You know Father: all business.”

You detect a hint of annoyance in his tone (and on his aura). Perhaps, despite his understanding of your entrepreneurial spirit, he is thinking much the same of you: all business. Well, you may have just the cure for that, but business DOES come first. With expert ease, you steer the conversation to current events—specifically, to those most likely to endanger or incriminate you.

“Hass there been any more newss about that fire? About the body in the sewer?”

Edwin purses his lips slightly. “You mean in the Crown Herald's paper, or in The Gray Press Dailies?”

“Hm? Either, I guessss,” you say innocently.

“You're Isabella Romanov,” Edwin says flatly.

You don't respond immediately, though you mentally note that they must indeed have published some variation of your tale in The Gray Press. Sending a mental missive to Irinnile, you activate the succubus' senses to scour the soul of the human male. You detect suspicion, but not malice or fear; rather, there is a tinge of self-satisfaction, enthusiasm. He thinks he's caught you, and is impressed at his own deductive abilities for having done so. He is eager for praise.

You simply smirk and quirk an eyebrow suggestively, and give his thigh a squeeze. You can tell he takes this as an affirmation, without you even saying a thing. More’s the better: you both have plausible deniability this way.

“What did the main paper ssay, though?’ you ask.

Edwin frowns. “Not much. The tower is taking over the investigation, believing there to be a magical component to the crimes. Which, well…”

“There wass,” you note.

“Was the body in the sewers…?”

‘A coworker’? Did they report on Estellia’s identity?

“…Related to the wererats, or the occultists, or both?”

Ah. So Mina hasn’t let anyone know, nor did any family come forward. You suppose that, even if they did, the number Roth did on the dancer’s body with his firebreath would have made identification difficult.

“I think sso,” you say, keeping it vague. “Wass there anything elsse?”

“The reputable papers are playing it pretty close to the chest, but… The Gray Press put out a small reward to anyone with wererat sightings which they can substantiate, with a big prize to anyone who can capture one alive or dead.”

That could drive Boss Leo’s surviving gang out of town, potentially… Or create some trouble for you, if the rats rat you out in a desperate bid for leniency… And if anyone is willing to believe a monster’s tale. Hopefully not.
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>>4915972

“Sso,” you segue, “I’ve been thinking about that day together idea…”

You hardly need to have a succubus within you to sense how THAT piques your pet boytoy’s interest.

What do you propose?
>Fold it into the business meeting this afternoon, and your work at The Pretty Kitty tonight
>A shopping excursion
>Get some of the girls from work together and go see a street play and some music in one of the less ‘intimate’ lounges
>Share some shirin, and go for a walk while you trip
>Get some friends together tomorrow—some of yours, and some of his—and check out of the ‘dungeon escape’ adventure tourist rooms around town
>Write-in
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>>4915975
>Get some friends together tomorrow—some of yours, and some of his—and check out of the ‘dungeon escape’ adventure tourist rooms

Our non whore friends. Do we have non whore friends?
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>>4916040
>non-whore friends
[Agatha and Oxford, Bianchi, The Fox-Woman arguably... That may be all of them. Roth? Qicerys?]
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>>4915975
>Fold it into the business meeting this afternoon, and your work at The Pretty Kitty tonight
This. Would be good to get him to hear some of the meeting and pick up some of the business stuff. Then drag him to TPK.
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>>4915975
>Get some of the girls from work together and go see a street play and some music in one of the less ‘intimate’ lounges
>>
[Awaiting a tie-breaker to post! We'll also probably wrap up thread here after the next post, since we're approaching the end of the catalogue.]
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where is pink anon when we need him
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>>4915975
>A shopping excursion
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>>4916456
+1, Edwin's been a good sport recently, so think of this as an appetizer (mixed in with work).
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>>4916614
>>4916585
>>4916456
>>4916040

“Well today’ss a busy day, but would you like to attend the businessss meeting?” you suggest. “You were quite helpful during the pitch to your father.”

Edwin’s face falls slightly, and with your enhanced senses, you can see the aura of his emotions deflate as well. “I was thinking less of a, ah, work thing.”

“You ssaid you were looking for something other than a library sstudy date,” you point out. “Bessidess, if you and I work together on thingss like this, perhapss it will mean more time sspent together in the future?”

Edwin nods, and you detect a slight improvement in the flow of his mana as he perks up a little.

“And afterwards?” he asks.

You smile lopsidedly. “The Pretty Kitty.”

“More work?” he half-groans.

You slide your hand up his thigh, causing him to jump in his seat.

“You ssay that as if I don’t already know that you and I BOTH have an interessst in that placce.”

Edwin gulps, and concedes the point. What else can he do? You literally AND figuratively have him by the balls.

‘Speaking of which…’ you hear Irinnile chime in from within, as a tingling sensation spreads through you at the scent and feel of Edwin.

[WANT: 13]

Ah, that’s right.
Do you risk your usual level of sexual intercourse with Edwin, now that you are possessed by a succubus?
>Absolutely not—no sex until the demon is sorted out
>Yes, but keep it light and monitor both of you for symptoms of excessive energy drain or possession
>Rock his world—you can manage Irinnile, and this will help to reduce the feeling of WANT
>Write-in

Is there anything else in particular you wish to do, or to discuss, before the business meeting this afternoon?
>Yes [write-in]
>No, move onto the next thread
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>>4916631
>Yes, but keep it light and monitor both of you for symptoms of excessive energy drain or possession

Don't want to blue ball the man, but I am watching you, Irinnile. This isn't some strangers in a back alley, this is our cover. So. Don't. Blow. It.

>Yes, how do you feel about some shopping?

:^)
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>>4916631
you know what, I can back >>4916635 and his insatiable shopping lust
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>>4916631
>Yes, but keep it light and monitor both of you for symptoms of excessive energy drain or possession
Smex but tell the demon to keep her hands away from his life energy. That bad boy can't run on fumes.
>Yes. "Wanna go for a walk and sshow me around Hawksong?"
We aren't new here, but I imagine Edwin knows the city much better than us. Could discover a few points of interest or do some sightseeing - there's gotta be some impressive places in Hawksong, right?

>>4916635
I'm okay with shopping as long as we don't turn this into a motherfucking Herald's quest. Last thing we need is that idiotic "5 helth pations, two crowbars, 69ft of rope, 10ft pole to detect mines, lube, condoms, 5 grenades, book of mushrooms and a pack of dwarven smokes for clarissa cause you neverr knooow~" shit here.
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>>4916696
We'll just have a shopping montage, don't worry. Maybe try on some outfits in the dressing room, maybe try something else out in the dresser with Edwin, a couple of meaningless jewelry or knickknacks here or there. Maybe we go into an exotic magical artifact shop and try our luck there? I agree, we don't need the inventory management hassle.

No lube or condoms? Oh no....
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>>4916730
>meaningless jewelry
Actually, how about we get meaningful jewelry? To pair with the tower dress.
>artifact shop
Weren't magical artifacts rare and expensive as fuck? I know that illusion-breaking ones were for sure.
>no lube or condoms?
Ismena is literally lubed 24/7, being a half-snek and we don't need condoms with Irinnile. Even without her we could get help from Quicerys and track down that Tower alchemist.
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>>4916796
>Actually, how about we get meaningful jewelry? To pair with the tower dress.

Sounds like a plan.

>Weren't magical artifacts rare and expensive as fuck? I know that illusion-breaking ones were for sure.

We can eye shop. Maybe Irinnile can replicate the most useful ones.

>Even without her we could get help from Quicerys and track down that Tower alchemist.

Yea, we should track down that Tower alchemist soon.
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>>4916631
>Absolutely not—no sex until the demon is sorted out
>No, move onto the next thread
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>>4916858
>Maybe Irinnile can replicate the most useful ones.
If demons can create (the expensive) magically-embedded items, then why are they so costly that even Edwin can't afford them on a whim?

>Yea, we should track down that Tower alchemist soon.
I wasn't even considering it yet, tbf. But then again, I've no idea how to tackle the Tower infiltration.
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>>4917211
Demons, in the city of the paladins? Perish the thought.
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>>4917452
Yeah sure. Let's say you're right and the mages are completely lawful, people like Bianchi get caught and dealt with quickly by the palacucks and demons are completely unheard of in this city.
You're still missing the part where not every place in the world is a district of Hawksong. People in different places would still summon those goodies which would eventually find their way on the market.
Ignore this post if you were just joking. I'm too sleep deprived to tell.
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>>4917527
Sleep is food for the brain. Sweet dreams anon.
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Rolled 17, 3, 11 = 31 (3d20)

>>4916858
>>4916796
>>4916696
>>4916635

[Last post incoming for this thread.]
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>>4917662
“For our date, I wass thinking… You know this town better than me. Maybe it might be nicce to do a bit of ssightsseeing? I bet Hawkssong hass all ssorts of wonders? Maybe even… Ssome for ssale?”

“Ah… Sure, absolutely…” Edwin complies quickly, probably because of your hand’s slow stroking motions.

‘Irinnile,’ you hiss inwardly, to the shadowy crevices of your soul where the demon dwells.

‘Yeeees?’ the succubus replies, terrible at feigning innocence despite being a malleable entity of pure emotion and desire.

‘I’m going to have sex with Edwin—’

‘Eeee! Fuck, he was sooo good in that dream. I can’t wait until I can actually feel his energy pumping into us every time he—’

‘NO energy drain.’

You can practically see the pout. ‘But I’ll DIE without it!’

‘You can die?’ you ask, genuinely curious.

‘Well… A sorta’ death. Besides, I <WANT> it.’

‘This isn’t some strangers in a dark alley. This is…’

‘Your boyfriend?’ Irinnile teases.

‘Our COVER. Besides, that bad boy doesn’t run on vapours. I’m watching you—don’t blow this.’

You feel Irinnile’s energies swell up within you, even as Edwin’s own ‘energy’ swells under your skilled attention, beneath the breakfast table.

‘Oh, I’m gonna’ fuckin’ BLOW it,’ Irinnile declares defiantly.

>17

You envision the incense-container which the demon was imprisoned in.

‘W-wait, Lispy, what are you—’

You envision opening it, and taking the miniatureized, doll-sized little demon in hand.

‘Hey now, come on, I was just joking around!’

Then, you envision stuffing her inside the container, and sealing it shut against her cacophonous caterwauling.

“Izzy?” Edwin asks breathlessly. “Are you alright?”

“Hmm?” you ask, returning your attentions to the material world, and to the throbbing presence in your hand. “Ssorry, Edwin. I wass jusst… Fantassizing.”

“Well…” he says, glancing about but briefly to ensure no kitchen servansta re in the vicinity, “perhaps it’s time to, uh… Make your dreams a reality?”

You smirk.

“Sssmooth, Misster Engel,” you acknowledge.

You slip under the table, and live out some dreams. After that, encouraged by the irrepressible waves of infernal lust which yet emanate from the furiously pent-up demon within you, things only escalate. Before you know it, you’re not under the table, you’re on top of it, and demure, submissive Edwin is growling and grunting your pseudonym with an unusual vigor. Last night must have really done a number on the poor lad.

[Irinnile Mastery DC, aka WANT: 14]

You can feel Irinnile brooding deep inside you, but nevertheless… You think you could get used to this.
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[Thanks for playing! Expect a new thread tomorrow, and please feel free to discuss ideas amongst yourself, to leave input or advice for me, to make requests for how to move forward, or to just shitpost a little.]
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>>4917691
Will Edwin ever get used to our infiltrator schedule or is he gonna worry and sulk forever?
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>>4917702
[Maybe.]
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>>4917691
I thought that sexual acts were supposed to lower the WANT, could you elaborate on that?
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>>4917970
[Draining eneegy lowers WANT, which Irinnile prefers to do through sex. Watching sex, or having sex without allowing energy drain, increases her WANT. It IS possible to have sex without killing your partner, mind; if she is to be believed on this matter, that's what she USUALLY does. Even then, though, you could expect that to leave a partner exhausted.]
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>>4918148
>’Extract some mana’ and assuage your WANT with the half-elf [seduction roll required]
so this choice would result in draining Quicerys, then? I never expected that to be the case, sheesh.
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>>4918220
Gotta' extract it from somewhere!

New thread:
>>4918227



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