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>>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

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>>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 ]

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>>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.

>>4872296
A handy? We can read the choicest bit here if we want to.

>>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.

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>>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.”

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>>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.

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>>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…”

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>>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]

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>>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!

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>>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:

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>>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

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>>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

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>>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

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>>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.

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>>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.

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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.

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>>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.

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>>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.