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>>4965421

Of course you, you've run into your fair share of challenges as well…
>The demonologist you had executed (Lady Zivic) remains alive, after an undead fashion, and bonded to an ambitious demon
>The wererats, though scattered, yet live, including their leader Boss Leo
>The Mages Tower is investigating several crimes in which you have direct or indirect involvement
>The same demonic contract which made you so much more powerful ALSO has created complications for your plan to attend a Tower Gala in ten days’ time for the purposes of subverting the city defences (though a recently-performed occult ritual has helped to mitigate this somewhat)
>The Pretty Kitty Brothel is suffering difficulties, and you have taken it upon yourself to reverse their fortunes
>Your Dark Gods have personally assigned you the task of extinguishing the Yosef bloodline

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>>4965422
[LEVEL UP: You have become better still at research, occultism (especially psychic disciplines thereof), and merchantilism.

When facing a matter where success is not guaranteed or terribly likely, failure has notable consequences, and I’d feel railroady 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. You roll 3d20 for matters related to dance, stealth, seduction or politesse, and arcane studies. Where illusion, mentalism, or occultism are 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.

Having been possessed by the succubus Irinnile, you can also shift your shape (including to create wings or natural weapons), sense and influence emotions and even read surface-level thoughts or enter dreams, and you are seemingly immune to permanent injury as a result of fire and mundane weapons.

As a general rule, DCs are 15, but disguise, magic item use, and favourable melees as discussed have DC 10. Thanks to Irinnile’s powers, you also currently have this reduced DC of 10 for nighttime or shadowy stealth checks, seduction rolls, and single-target illusion or mentalism checks.

However, your demonic powers are not without a price: Irinnile has a powerful sense of <WANT> at the core of her being. Every time you use her powers or deny her something she desires, the <WANT> grows stronger, increasing the DC of rolls to control her impulses. Should you fail, she will subsume your personality long enough to satisfy herself, sometimes at the cost of lives and the risk of exposure. However, having both humbled and befriended her to some extent, below a <WANT> Dc of 18, she will no longer risk actions likely to get you killed or exposed. Your current level of <WANT> is DC 12.
You have also gained a one-time invocation of your Dark Gods’ <DIVINE FAVOUR>, and access to their <AKASHIC RECORD>, a metaphysical record of the Dark Gods and their operatives’ actions across the world and into deep time, which you can access with a successful occult roll; the DC varies depending upon how long ago the event took place, how far away it occurred, and whether you have a relevant focus.

Rolls will be used somewhat sparingly, though overuse of demonic powers may cause them to be more frequent than they would otherwise.]


[ Previous volumes, for those of you just joining us, are at http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=reptoidqm ]

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>>4965425
You sit in the dingy dark of the storehouse in silence. Having come to suspect some manner of animated stone or metal man may be at the centre of the new city defence program, you have organized for a dwarven engineer AND your burly-but-beautiful dwarven coworker from The Pretty Kitty to meet with you here tomorrow. Impatient for answers, however, you made an early visit to survey the ruins yourself. Your hope was that accessing the Akashic Record of the Dark Gods could lend some clarity to the purpose behind the excavations of the dwarven materials now stacked around you. In the end, however, you were just BARELY able to reach out to a shade of a likely long-dead infiltrator who shared only an enigmatic warning:

>”They see without eyes.”

You don’t have too long to contemplate this message from the past—you have to be at work at your brothel job in a few scant hours, and there are Engelson guards and a carriage driver waiting outside. You can’t keep them waiting forever.

What do you do?
>Call in the DIVINE FAVOUR to seek guidance in interpreting and searching the Akashic Record [ONE TIME USE, expends your Divine Favour forever or until another can be earned]
>Look around for anything glowing with enough magical energy to make it worth pocketing for closer examination later
>Head to the headquarters of the Zika Excavation Company, at the risk of being late for work, in order to extract some answers form the mercs who retrieved the materials
>Pay a visit to the street-meat vendor you proposed as a chef for The Pretty Kitty, to see about recruiting him
>Just go to work at The Pretty Kitty and deal with all this tomorrow
>Write-in

>>4965435
>Look around for anything glowing with enough magical energy to make it worth pocketing for closer examination later

>Pay a visit to the street-meat vendor you proposed as a chef for The Pretty Kitty, to see about recruiting him

We might be slightly late for work, but we can explain it away as time talking to the cook

>>4965435
>Look around for anything glowing with enough magical energy to make it worth pocketing for closer examination later
>Pay a visit to the street-meat vendor you proposed as a chef for The Pretty Kitty, to see about recruiting him

While I'm tempted to know what that shade meant, our Divine Favor is too precious to be used on an unknown lark. I am open to being convinced however.

And welcome back QM!

Rolled 18, 10, 10 = 38 (3d20)

>>4965601
>>4965655

[Thanks, good to be back!... Even if under unenviable circumstances.]

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>>4965732
You scan the storehouse for anything of especial interest, relying upon Irinnile the Succubus’ improvement of your own developing arcane faculties.

‘I’m telling ya,’ the succubus says in her usual affected droll, speaking directly and silently by way of your psychic link, ‘I don’t see nothing here that looks like it’s got more than a bit of residual—ooo!’

Bonded as you are, you see it at essentially the same time the succubus does: a gleam registered only by your mystic ‘third eye’, amongst all the assorted clutter of ages past in kingdoms deep eblow and far away.

‘Hey, babe, nevermind what I just said. Check that out!’

Irinnile’s instruction is unnecessary. You’re already taking advantage of the darkvision the succubus also grants you—native to your mother’s race, but never natural to you thanks to your unknown father’s wretched human heritage---to navigate the gloom at the back of the storehouse, where late-day light passing through high-up windows is blotted out by great, wide statues of what you assume were once notably smaller dwarves. You trace the gleam of magical energy to its source: small box, composed of many smaller slats and blocks of irregular shape.

All of the components of this puzzling box seem to hold together as if connected, but as you turn it over and over in your hands, you can tell that the cuts which delineate the smaller parts are so deep that the structure should be fragile, if not falling apart. Following a hunch, you step out of the dark and hold it up to the light. Indeed, it shines right through at several places. You pull at each piece, but they are all lodged far more firmly than even magnetic force should achieve.

“How is this thing holding together?” you mutter to yourself in your mother’s tongue, before catching yourself. Best not to speak too openly in that language, even with the mammals relegated to waiting outside.

Do you…
>Pocket the cube, to examine later
>Leave it here, to examine tomorrow
>Smash it, lest it prove dangerous to your cause
>Write-in

[1/2]

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>>4965742
You have other matters to attend to for now, though. You bid the Engelson men guarding this cache of dwarven artefacts farewell, complimenting them on their excellent work protecting it from dangers within and without. None-the-wiser to your subversion, they are ignorant of the irony. Only when you are in the back of the carriage and safely out-of-sight do you smirk at your wit. Then, you set the coachman to task bringing you back to the central hub of the Hawksong urban experience: the Royal Library and its attendant plaza.

You can’t help but think of Edwin as you pull into the square. Edwin of Engel, your favourite male-mammal plaything, is the wealthy and jobless son of the Engelson Storehouse Company owner. He is also an enthusiastic and knowledgeable, albeit sadly inept, self-taught student of the arcane arts. You met him in this very library, and part of you wonders idly if he’s studying there even now. It would be just like him to have lost track of time.

<CURRENT AFFECTION (EDWIN): 87%>

You, on the other hand, are keenly aware of the passage of time and of your schedule. You suppose you’re destined to be a little late for your shift at The Pretty Kitty. If you can help lift the gloom of financial difficulties that have recently dogged the brothel, though, will anyone truly begrudge that? The establishment, a staple of the city’s bustling Red Lantern District, lost its former star dancer under suspicious circumstances—that is to say, you stabbed her in the sewers and had your dragonblooded contact burn her corpse beyond recognizability, following her kidnapping by wererat gangsters and rival occultists out to bait you. Her vanishing and presumed death was largely attributed to the wererats themselves, thanks in no small part to a tabloid story you published under a pseudonym, but the resultant climate of paranoia has done little to help repopulate the bar which makes The Pretty Kitty most of its money.

Your two-pronged plan to revitalize TPK? Good food and foreign drugs! While you have a small cask of imported ‘shirin’ stimulant-powder under your carriage-seat to handle the latter, you have settled upon the recruitment of a particular street-vendor to help with the former. There is a particular half-orc who fries up delicious street-meat most days in front of the library and, obligate carnivore that you are, you have had ample cause to appreciate his craft.

>>4965755
You find the half-orc—you never did learn his name—in an unpleasant situation. Having hopped out of the carriage, you looked about for him, but it didn’t take long to pinpoint him thanks to the cackles and shouts of a trio of young male humans, and a female looker-on, and the cracking and smashing sounds of one of them wailing on a tragically-familiar meat-cart with a mace or morningstar of some description. The four young humans are all dressed in ‘adventurer chic’, semi-functional arms and armament meant to replicate the more practical pieces popular among the mercenaries and tomb-raiders who have recently captured the urban imagination. The half-orc towers a head-and-a-half above each of them, but clearly wants no trouble; by the grimace of irritation on the half-man’s face, you assume it is more to do with public perception, or his lack of equivalent armament, than a peaceful nature.

What do you do?
>Talk down the situation with diplomacy
>Use psychic and illusory abilities to startle and disorient the assailants
>Step in to defend the vendor martially [specify if you draw your dagger or not]
>Hold back and wait for the moment to pass, and approach the vendor afterwards
>Leave, to avoid attention
>Write-in

>>4965742
>Pocket the cube, to examine later

I love puzzles!

>>4965757
>Talk down the situation with diplomacy
>Use psychic and illusory abilities to startle and disorient the assailants

Invite them to our show, and maybe a private 'show' after. Mindfucking Is always better done in private, and I really want to test out our psychic abilities on these guinea pigs, and with any luck we can get them wrapped around our finger. We need some disposable assets to take out Zivic and the were-rats after all.

>>4965742
>Pocket the cube, to examine later
We better take it in case it's something controversial.

>>4965757
>Use psychic and illusory abilities to startle and disorient the assailants
Give them nightmares for months so they think twice before coming back.
and, if we can:
>Use Irinnile's power to amplify the attack and blind the aggressors so they can't identify you
We should avoid being recognized by street trash to minimize chance of being tracked in the future.
Negotiations with the half-orc might be easier after we help... and explain it was our illusion, lmao.

Welcome back sooner than expected, RQM!

>>4965785
>Pocket the cube, to examine later
>Use psychic and illusory abilities to startle and disorient the assailants

Locking these in! However, each vote takes a very different tack as to whether to use the psychic and illusory abilities as a gateway to diplomacy and manipulation or to scare off the assailants. I'll wait for someone to vote on that for a bit loner, and roll if nobody does.

>>4966235
I do think that we can use them as pawns against the were-rats at least lads. Disposable, deniable assets. Live or die, they can cull the were-rat population somewhat at least. This is another problem we've been putting off, and this is the perfect opportunity to deal with it in a time saving way.

Or we can dunk on them. I don't mind either way, I figured we can save some time and accomplish a secondary objective as a good beginning to this thread.

Rolled 1 (1d2)

>>4966235
[Writing up!]

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>>4966364
You focus your energies, the air around you sparkling with little pulses of power, and then extend your hand out with fingers outstretched. The power surges forth into a firework-like explosion of light and glamour which catches both half-orc and humans off-guard.

“What in the hells?” grumbles the man with the mace, shouldering the spiked ball on a single oversized pauldron.

You step forward, an easy smile on your face and your hand by your side, ready to reach for your concealed dagger if need be. The humans look at you in confusion and with no small wariness—no non-magical person, let alone a costumed hoodlum masquerading as a real mercenary, wishes to face a mage in combat if they can help it. However, you know that you’re no match for the four humans if push comes to shove, certainly not without revealing your succubus-derived powers. Once more, you lament that your set of leafweave armour is not more portable— you feel underdressed for an actual, physical confrontation.

“Hey, you’re that girl,” the half-orc speaks up, recognizing you. “The unseasoned, rare-and-bloody meat girl.”

Not the most flattering epithet you’ve acquired, and you almost wince at it, but he’s not wrong. Vegetable matter sits poorly in your gut, even spices, but damned does this oaf—a half-human who looks almost porcine from some angle, while ape-like in gait—know how to tenderize and cook even mediocre cuts of meat JUST right. You can’t afford to lose such an asset, and so you nod slightly, smile reassuringly, and turn back to the human assailants.

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>>4966432
“Lissten up, boysss,” you say, addressing the three men while for now ignoring their apparent hanger-on. “What’ss going on here? Did this half-orc overcharge you? Ssell you a bad cut?”

“What’s it to you, lady?” demands one. “You some sort of monster-fucker?”

You reflect fondly on the hemipenes of a certain grumpy dragon-blooded Reptilian agent. Oh, if these fools only knew…

But you answer “No, obvioussly not. But thiss monsster an I have businessss to dissucusss. My name is Kamunu… of The Pretty Kitty?”

That sets them off, in particular the mid-sized, short-haired man who first questioned you: “What, that workhouse full of freakshows, run by a literal animal? No wonder you’re siding with some steppe-savage beast-man!”

“My mum’s human from Hawksong, eight generations back,” the half-orc snarls. “Born and raised, brother.”

“I ain’t no brother of yours, mutt,” the man snipes back, and you are forced to hold the half-orc back with a gentle hand on his chest and a pulse of soothing psychic energy.

“BOYSS,” you try again, cognizant of the need to turn up your glamour, “I think you have the wrong idea. The Pretty Kitty takes all kindss, it’ss true, but I think you’ll find we cater quite well to our good, human ladss… Esspeccially big, sstrapping men-of-action like you.”

You step up to the biggest and most heavily-armed man, the mace-wielder, and run a hand along his admittedly-impressive bicep. Direct contact and proximity helps you to insinuate yourself into his mind, and by the time you lock eyes with him the tension melts away from him like the fat from one of the half-orc’s cuts of pig-meat. You don’t even need to release Irinnile!

“Why don’t you come check out my show tonight?” you ask quietly, intimately. “Maybe even the private show afterwardsss?”

Even the most agitated of the men begins to calm as you talk to them about the twins, Red Annie, and the other human dancers and ‘dancers’ at The Pretty Kitty, plying them each with honeyed words and soft, subtle caresses to plant your psychic hooks deeper. Only the woman seems unaffected, eventually stepping forward to screech:

“What the FUCK is wrong with all of you?!”

This breaks your spell, albeit only somewhat. The three male humans step back, but only the one who was spitting vitriol earlier returns to the angry female’s side. The other two continue to eyeball you through eyes clouded with glamour and residual lust, while the woman and the least-enamoured man have a hushed, but furious, back-and-forth. She drags him off, and their friends follow along dutifully afterwards. You wave and wink, knowing you’ll see them later.

>>4966437
‘Damn Lispy, that was some expert work if I do say so myself!’ Irinnile compliments you. ‘Think we can drain them later?’

‘Maybe,” you reply noncommittally. You can think of a few other uses for them… Such as helping to reduce the local wererat population. More immediately, though, you have business to discuss with the target of their ire.

“Thank you,” the half-orc says, before you can say anything to him. “You didn’t need to do that. You don’t know me. But… You did. That’s… Thank you.”

“Oh, I know you alright,” you smile mischievously. “I’m Rare-and-Blood Meat Girl, remember?”

The half-orc holds out a rough, sinewy hand with nails that almost resemble claws. You glance down at it skeptically, suddenly worried at what ahs been handling your food, but… Well, it seems reasonably-clean.

“Konrad,” he introduces himself. “Konrad, son of Brugagh. Or Brugaghson, if you want.”

“Kamunu.” You take his hand in yours. “Charmed.”

With his cart smashed, and especially after the favour you just did him, Konrad Brugaghson couldn’t refuse your offer if he wanted to—he says as much. He doesn’t want to, either, for that matter.

“Things have been rough with all this wererat-and-demon talk,” he explains. “People getting antsy about foreigners, demihumans, halfers like me. Getting hostile. And if you bust heads and you got tusks and shit, well, who you think the guards are gonna’ blame?”

You nod along sympathetically, but inwardly you simply rejoice at the lack of haggling over terms, and the position of dependency this is likely to put the half-orc in. You and The Pretty Kitty will all but own him, and his delicious cooking! So eager are you to lock him down that you invite him into the carriage to ride into work with you this very night!

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>>4966439
You are indeed a little late for your shift—the sun is already setting as you unload yourself and your new chef from the carriage. As you anticipated, though, Brugaghson’s presence is all it takes to smooth the situation over. You set him up for a meeting with Madam Mina, the cat-headed beastwoman proprietress of the lounge and brothel. Her face is as unreadable as always, but his tail flits with excitement and her ears show a calm alertness—signs you’ve learned to read as happiness. You exchange a nod, and you cannot help but feel a thrill of pride at her subtle praise.

You next meet with Felia, the busty middle-management of the establishment and Mina’s right hand. She seems more skeptical of your new hire, but you know she’ll come around to your way of thinking when she tastes his cooking and sees the financial impact of customers doing likewise.

For tonight, however, she tells you that you have a couple possible jobs: you can take to the stage, doing your signature ‘desert princess’ magic-and-dance routine and mingling with the crowd, or you can attend to a private party uptown, at a nobleman’s estate. Either, you note could provide you a good opportunity to distribute some shirin and to make money and connections—perhaps slightly higher-end connections and more money at the nobleman’s home—though only one would allow you to supervise situation with Brugaghson and the rowdy young men you just invited to check out the show.

What do you do?
>Dance at The Pretty Kitty tonight
>Attend the private nobleman’s soiree
>Suggest some of the other girls to manage one or both of those assignments while you attend to other matters [specify which, refer to previous threads for your coworkers]
>Write-in

>>4966440
>Dance at The Pretty Kitty tonight

I'd absolutely love to go to the nobleman's soiree tonight, but it seems my idea has derailed that somewhat. I'm sure we can go to the nobility another time though, hopefully soon.

>>4966440
>>Attend the private nobleman’s soiree

>>4966440
>Dance at The Pretty Kitty tonight
Just like the first days at TPK.

Konrad absolutely has to drown the pretty kitty Mina in tuna to charm her inner cat and sell her on the idea. Can't go wrong there, unless she's one of those neurodivergent pussies that like to be wet and eat grass.

Hopefully inviting those nonmagical plebs to TPK won't cause any complications.

>>4966440
>Dance at The Pretty Kitty tonight

We did invite those unsavory sorts
would be fine draining them later

>>4966440
>>Dance at The Pretty Kitty tonight

>>4966806
>>4966545
>>4966526
>>4966516
>>4966505

You opt to stay close to home-base for the evening—after all, you invited some especially unsavoury characters here tonight, and if they’ll smash up Konrad Brugaghson’s cart, who is to say they won’t create trouble for someone like Grendelia, or Mina herself?

As you head towards the stage, you bump into the half-orc in question, descending the stairs from madam Mina’s office. He looks stoic, but that might just be the heavy brow and underbite.

“Sso?” you ask, unable to hide your eagerness. “How did it go?”

“Your boss says she doesn’t have the facilities to set me up with a kitchen or supplies tonight, but f I can get the stuff together, she’ll help cover it and set me up out back. Says I can do up a menu, and she’ll have you girls taking orders, bring ‘em back to me, and bring the food in.”

“An exxcciting opportunity, issn’t it?” you ask with a smile.

Konrad Brugaghson nods along quietly, then asks: “What about those assholes from earlier? They swinging by?”

“Maybe,” you shrug. “Who caress? It got them off your back and, if they create trouble for uss… Well, I’ll handle them sswiftly enough.”

Brugaghson chortles quietly. “Yeah, I guess a brittle guy like me’s got nothing to worry about, big tough broad like you having my back and all.”

You tilt your head and just smirk. He may be almost twice your weight, but you and Brugaghson both know you have magic on your side—and this orc-man doesn’t know the half of it. Between your immunity to non-magical weapons brought on by your demon pact, your own sorcery, and your combat training, no adventurer-attired pretender could stand against you… IF you were willing to reveal the truth of your hidden might, which you aren’t. Still, it is still an undeniably strange thing to find a mage of ANY calibre working in a brothel, and the food-vendor can’t help but ask:

“What’s a girl like you doing here, anyhow?”

“Now now,” you quip with a wink, “let’ss keep this professional.”

That stymies the half-orc, who calms up to avoid accidentally pressing his luck a second time. Still, a you go about your evening, the question recurs, bouncing around in your brain.

Why ARE you still doing this job, really? Why do you want to help revitalize The Pretty Kitty?
>You still find having a cover identity apart from the Engels useful for spycraft
>You enjoy the attention, the dancing, the music, and the sensuality for its own sake
>You have developed an actual attachment and affection for your employer and coworkers
>Other

>>4966866
>All the above

We could've- and probably should've- moved on by now, but a mix of the thrill, connections, and affection can be as strong as any tonic to us. Eventually we'll be forced to move on, but it'll be on our terms, and with business booming for the Kitty and it's girls.

>>4967047
Supporting.

>>4966866
>You enjoy the attention, the dancing, the music, and the sensuality for its own sake
And satisfaction from proving our superiority on stage.
>You have developed an actual attachment for your employer and coworkers
Attachment, cause affection would be a dangerous thing for a reptilian agent.

>>4967047
Why would we be *forced* to leave?

>>4966866
>You still find having a cover identity apart from the Engels useful for spycraft

There is NOTHING but the mission

>>4967152
Our Dark Overlords demands it? We succeed beyond our wildest dreams? We horribly fuck up and are forced to flee? There are many extreme reasons that can rear their ugly head.

>>4967229
>>4967152
>>4967073
>>4967047
There is undeniably still SOME strategic advantage in having multiple identities and avenues to enter into humanoid society’s various castes and subsections—the opportunity to attend a nobleman’s private party just this very evening proves that. However, that was an opportunity you refused, and that refusal itself forces you to confront the truth: you LIKE The pretty Kitty. You love dancing, the satisfaction of demonstrating ever-more-superior mastery of your craft on stage, the thrill of the music moving your body!

And antithetical as it may be to your mission—and there is NOTHING more important than the mission—you have come to feel an… Attachment of sorts to Mina, and to The Pretty Kitty’s other dancers and prostitutes. It is a shameful fact, and yet you cannot bring yourself to feel wholly ashamed of it. If circumstances should force you to abandon this place, you will do so on your terms, having left these people all the better for your presence.

You work through these complicated, developing feelings the only way you know how: dance. As if he senses your conflict, the elven bard Laksar Endingray plays a slower, almost melancholy tune. However, as you speed up your dancing, ramping up the sensual sway and elegant steps, the tempo increases to match you. Before long, you have processed and compartmentalize the emotions with your usual Reptilian efficiency, and are taking your deliberately boob0bouncing bow to the adulation of the crowd.

Among those in the audience—on second observation, ‘crowd’ may have been overselling it—are indeed the four human hoodlums who harassed your new half-orc chef earlier. Even the female human is present; she is glaring daggers at you, even as her male companions ogle you with primal desire. You smirk and wink at her as you stand back up and leave the stage.

A quick situation report from the other dancers and the serving girls tells you that the table of armoured attendees has been rowdy and rude, especially to non-human serving staff. Madam Mina, no stranger to such attitudes in her years in Hawksong, has simply reduced the number of drinks going to their table and specified only huma employees to interact with them. This seems to be working to everyone’s satisfaction, though as Grendelia follows up your act you note that the burly, six-foot-something (but still quite sensitive) quarter-orc dancer is subject to a few shouted insults. The music muffles them, but it doesn’t take an expert operative to know which table they originate with.

What do you do?
>Pay the unruly table a personal visit, to sort them out with some magic [specify if your approach is manipulative, seductive, or threatening]
>Lure the rowdy men off for a ‘private show’ [specify if you plan to drain them to death or not]
>Mingle with the crowd and sling some shirin—there’s no reason to risk further escalating the situation, and you have business to attend to
>Other

>>4967473
>Ask Mina whether she minds us dealing with the problem
Imply that we want to seduce, not threaten or get them killed.
>Lure the rowdy men off for a ‘private show’
Let Irinnile sort this out for good in some alleyway, just quietly. And their bitch comes too.
>Make SURE nobody follows us
We don't want to get discovered by Mina or Konrad concerned about our safety.

I hope this was the last time we told a bunch of aggressive, xenophobic thugs where to find us.

>>4967441
We're not leaving this brothel without a fight lol

>>4967473
>Mingle with the crowd and sling some shirin—there’s no reason to risk further escalating the situation, and you have business to attend to

why yes I do flake hard

>>4967473
>Pay the unruly table a personal visit, to sort them out with some magic [manipulative, seductive]

I don't mind giving them a private show and having our succubus have a snacc, but I would like to use these tools as pawns against our enemies. Plus, that female looks like she's be fun to tame and bring to heel.

>>4967473
>Mingle with the crowd and sling some shirin—there’s no reason to risk further escalating the situation, and you have business to attend to

Them being rude ≠ them causing trouble

And we really need to start selling this stuff

>>4967712
I'm honestly waiting until we can stretch the supply out with local herbs before we start distribution in earnest. I don't want people complaining about the difference of flavor or the strength of the hit when we change over to our more deluded/improved shirin.

>>4967502
>>4967555
>>4967595
>>4967712
[We seem to have a tie between a seductive/manipulative approach to lure and drain the unruly attendees, and ignoring them for now to sell shirin. I will await a tiebreaker tonight, and roll for it if nobody breaks it!]

Rolled 17, 16, 3 = 36 (3d20)

>>4967906

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>>4968179
You rummage through your pack for the small amount of shirin you earlier extracted from the cask. The carriage is long-gone, but that is to your liking well enough—there’s little point in selling it all in one night, before you have another shipment ready to come in, and without having even figured out a way to stretch or extend your existing supply!

For now, the white ‘spice’ from the far east shall serve as a means to entice and distract the xenophobes harassing your fellow dancer. While the female at the table crosses her arms over her laughable (and no-doubt pinchy) chainmail two-piece, the males are eager to make space for you at their table. Able to pass for human better than your fellow mixed-breeds despite your mother’s more exotic ancestry, you are easily able to slip into their circle even as they mutter amongst themselves about how ill-fit and mannish they find Grendelia. Personally, you don’t see it—she’s strong, and tall, but her proportions are well within norms of mammalian females, and in some cases more exaggerated than most in their womanliness—that’s sort of a prerequisite for the job, after all. You nod and smile along, though, and eventually proffer a sample of your wares.

“Shirin?” the most loud-mouthed of the men asks. “Never heard of it.”

“It’ss from the Easst, a most delectable and sstimulating sspice that—”

“Foreign shit,” he scoffs dismissively, swatting at your hand. You pull your hand away, narrowly avoiding losing some of the precious commodity. “That’s the problem with this land these days—this city just lets anything in, and with it comes orcs, and rat-men, and crime.”

There is a chorus of more subdued agreement from the other men, and your rival female influence at the table clearly senses an opening.

“I meant to assssk, honey,” she mocks, “where iss that accccent from?’

This arouses another chorus of chortles, which you silently suffer.

‘You know, I could probably do something about that lisp,’ irinnile suggested from within. You ignore her, too.

“The provinccess,” you answer. “You know, we got this shirin sstuff first, and I musst say… It’s a ‘sstimulant’ in more wayss than one.”

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>>4968187
You lower your head and flutter your eyelashes, licking a small amount of the shhirin suggestively from your fingertip. You dip it back into the bag, and proffer it t the most suggestible of the four: the man who wielded the mace. With only the subtlest nudge of glamour and succubus charm, he is driven to slurp it up without thinking further. His friends jeer, but before long, you know he is feeling the same pelasant buzz as you are…

And with peer pressure your friend, soon his friend is, also.

“Well I’ll be damned by the gods is this isn’t FUCKING spectacular!” the second, leaner man says. “Joris, Amelie, you HAVE to give this a go!”

The other two hesitate, but between your command of the drug and your less-than-subtle touches and flourishes, you have their goons hooked on you and your product.

What do you do?
>Escort the other two men away to further seduce and ensorcel, as pawns for later use
>Amp up your influence with magic to seduce the remaining skeptics at the table, and escort all four away to dispose of
>Attempt to manipulate and martial all four of them
>Turn the table against itself, as retaliation for their rudeness
>Return to the stage, and let them squabble
>Write-in

[Attempted a compromise that does a bit of both, and leaves the option to manipulate ro slay them open.]

>>4968189
>Attempt to manipulate and martial all four of them

Pawns for the Dark Gods! Druggies for our Drug Empire! 'Tis a glorious combination!

>>4968189
>Get the other two on shirin and calm them down so they don't make a scene

not sure what martial means in that one option. typo? surely not beating them all up outside

>>4968227
I assume it means we rally them against the were-rats.

>>4968227
Poor use of homonyms. *Marshal, as in assemble for action

>>4968189
>Turn the table against itself, as retaliation for their rudeness
Especially the female - I wonder if we can *turn* her…

>>4967595
>>4968247
alright I could overlook one, but can you guys please turn down the cringe
please

>>4968245
>>4968236
More appealing, but we have a lot of spinning plates already, not sure it would be worth adding them unless it was as convenient as sending them into the sewers tonight and they kill a few before getting wiped out

and it would suck if they got turned instead

>>4968249
Didn't you say you flake hard? Seems we all have a bit of cringe in us mate.

As it regards to these hooligans, it seems to me that they wouldn't be hard to weaponize them towards the were-rats without much upkeep, especially with we put the idea in their heads and keep it there. Whether they become the scourge of the rat-men or die against a single rat-man is of no real consequence, I just figure this is a good opportunity to put more heat on Leo and his gang that we've been putting off for a while now, and these hooligans were obviously looking for a fight, I just figured that we'd obliged them.

>>4968262
>Seems we all have a bit of cringe in us all* mate.

I really need to get in the habit of proof reading before I post.

>>4968189
>Amp up your influence with magic to seduce the remaining skeptics at the table, and escort all four away to dispose of
What a mess.

[Looking like a four-way tie, with a slight lean towards disposing of them. I'll await a tiebreaker.]

>>4968262
Are you seriously putting changing my mind between posts on the same level as perhaps the most neckbearded phrases ever seen outside of r9k?

>>4968769
Okay, fair.
Changing my vote (>>4968533) to
>Attempt to manipulate and martial all four of them
Let's sic them on those filthy wererats who abandoned their humanity to juggle turds, set fires and attack people at night.

>>4968262
>>4968802
Stop posting cringe, anons.

Rolled 19, 8, 3, 11, 20 = 61 (5d20)

>>4968825
>>4968533
>>4968266
>>4968247
>>4968227
>>4968195

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>>4968900
With half the table more concerned with wooing you (or paying you, in fairness) than in stirring up more trouble, you suppose you could consider the problem solved. Still, you know that all the nervous energy which builds from a shirin dose needs release eventually…

‘And they might as well release it in us, huh?’ Irinnile suggests. ‘And look at that haughty little number huffing on the other side of the table. I wonder if we could get her in on it?’

You cringe a little at Irinnile’s insatiable lust, but luckily none of the humans seated with you catch your microexpression. You continue to engage them in the vapid and frequently lusty chatter typical of their race while you consider what to do with them. Eventually, a thought occurs: if they’re so eager to purge inhuman elements from the city of Hawksong, why not turn them upon your wererats.

When at first you propose it, there is reticence.

“Uh, spending the night crawling around in shitty sewers doesn’t exactly sound like my idea of a fun time,” the female human protests, to a round of agreement and clinked glasses.

“But jusst think,” you suggest, turning on the charm and scooting in closer to the ringleader. “You could really clean up thiss ccity, and make a differencce! Imagine it: you, Joriss, the Hero of Hawkssong!”

You slide your foot up his leg beneath the table, and allow Irrinile to seep out of your inner darkness and into your skin. You are flushed with heat and arousal instantly, but the understanding you have built with the demon and your increased experience with utilizing the occult repent you from being overwhelmed. Not so Joris and his band of wannabes, who with each verbal or physical nudge all further and further under your control.

“Guys, seriously, what the fuck??” the female—Amelie, was it—whines.

“Come on,” you egg her up, tracing a finger along her jaw and a thumb across her lips. “I think you have a beautiful face for the cover of a Grey Press ‘Annalss of Adventure’ issssue.”

Amelie cowls slightly and struggels against your control, but your succubus touch is too much for her feeble will. Her eyes go slightly glossy as you leans into your petting of her hair and your amsage of her shoulders.

“You really think so…?” she asks softly.

You grin, your victory complete. These humans will do whatever you say, now, and You say that it’s time to tie up some loose ends with Boss Le and the wererats of the Hawksong undercity.

What do you do?
>Fetch your leafweave armour and magical items, and lead the humans into the sewers directly
>Send the humans into the sewers without guidance
>Use the humans as bait in the darkened streets of Hawksong, to draw wererats out of their home and into a trap
>Write-in

>>4968911
>Fetch your leafweave armour and magical items, and lead the humans into the sewers directly
>Make sure nobody follows
We better look after these idiots, even if just from afar. Can also double boost them with illusion if shirin turns out to be insufficient for fighting the rabid shitchompers.

Poor Edwin, lmao.

>>4968911
>Send the humans into the sewers without guidance

lmao

>>4968911
>Fetch your leafweave armour and magical items, and lead the humans into the sewers directly
If we’re actually going to try and tie up this loose end - might as well do it right

>>4969160
>If we’re actually going to try and tie up this loose end - might as well not leave another loose end
ftfy

>>4968911
>>Use the humans as bait in the darkened streets of Hawksong, to draw wererats out of their home and into a trap

>>4968911
>Fetch your leafweave armour and magical items, and lead the humans into the sewers directly

Snek magic!

Rolled 20, 2, 13, 5 = 40 (4d20)

>>4969240
>>4969236
>>4969160
>>4969015
>>4968990
[Stealth roll x 3, perception roll x 1]

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>>4969308
With all the humans in your thrall, you provide the rubes directions to retrieve their arms from Felia at coat-check—Madam Mina is too smart to allow them to bring blades or war-clubs into a drinking establishment—and to meet you at the rats’ main entrance to the sewers. Under normal circumstances it would seem too obvious, but with the cops and Mages’ Tower out for their hides, you doubt even the lowliest and slowest of Boss Leo’s wererat flunkies would be just loitering about in such a conspicuous place.

With your forces deployed, you play out the remainder of your shift, and then fetch the armour you had the good sense to bring with you in the carriage, and to stow away in your room. Too many times you’ve been caught without the beautiful suit of alchemically-treated leafweave leather. You admire the craftsmanship once more as you lather it with the chemicals its cute little half-elf creator sold you alongside it, and you begin to feel your subsumed lust for battle rise within you again. It’s not unlike the feeling you have towards dance, towards seduction and manipulation: you love the sensation of elegant mastery of a craft, of piqued emotion and individual glory, of mastery and humiliation of the weak.

Careful not to attract attention or face questions you aren’t prepared to answer, you slip out into the darkness of night through a window. Irinnile’s natural affinity for shadowy stealth and ability to manifest climbing claws synergizes well with your own training, and you are even able to descend down the walls with such finesse that your own allies are unaware of your presence in their midst before you speak up.

<WANT: 13>

“Ready, boyss?” you ask. “Oh, and Amelie?”

The humans jump, and you swallow a laugh, especially at Amelie’s squeak. These are no trained warriors. Still, they’re useful warm bodies to aim at your problems and shield you from hidden blades. And why tidy up one loose end only to leave another? Plus, their appreciative chatter about your armour makes you feel both beautiful and mighty, which is always a nice bonus.

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>>4969322
You lead the column of human meatshields down to the undercity entrance. Buoyed by your own aura, and perhaps especially by the shirin, they are untouched by fear even as they prepare to enter the belly of the beast which has haunted this city ever since you pinned your own brutal crimes on the wererats in your lurid expose to The Grey Press publishing house. Still, you know first-hand that the wererats are nothing to be trifled with: they are stealthy, fast, strong, and when organized they can be quite efficient killers.

‘Then again, they’ve never tangled with you an’ me together, have they, hotstuff?’

Irinnile’s right, of course: you’re immune to flame and mundane, one with the shadows, and can attack a mind with your demonic ally almost as easily as with shapeshifted claws… Though maybe not without tipping off your little corps of play-soldiers.

You see that the loose bars which the wererats would so carefully remove and replace to hide their comings and goings are now gone completely. Are they expecting you? Have the city officials already investigated this area and driven the wererats away? You certainly see no sign of either party as you enter…

What do you do?
>Send in the humans first, and bring up the rear stealthily
>Lead boldly and proudly from the front, letting your presence put the fear into the wererats
>Try to guide the humans in the ways of stealth
>Call out to any observers that may or may not exist, declaring (ie. bluffing) that you know they are there, and that they should come on out
>Write-in

>>4969325
>Send in the humans first, and bring up the rear stealthily

>>4969325
>Try to guide the humans in the ways of stealth

Might as well make the attempt. Suprise can be a wonderful boon, and if they suck at stealth we can always revert to our original plan, by making them march while we pull a rouge.

>>4968911
*struggles

*massage

[Damnit, I will learn to spell someday. For now, goodnight! I am confirmed not to have Covid, but still can't return to work until my boss okays me and I have no symptoms, so I will have ample time to post for a few more days, most likely. Then, back to my old once-or-twice per day schedule, except when busy.]

>>4969687
Oh shit, I didn't know that. I would have voted with >>4969385 here had I know you got time to burn!

>>4969325
That perception tho.
>Try to guide the humans in the ways of stealth
>Tell Amelie to stay on the rearguard
We don't want to get surprise buttsecks.

>>4969687
That's a triple yay.

Rolled 16, 11, 4, 17, 20 = 68 (5d20)

>>4969789
>>4969434
>>4969385
[3 for your stealth (DC 10), 1 for your allies' stealth (DC 13, due to your guidance), 1 for perception]

>>4970128
perception yes

>>4970128
>dat nat 20 perception

Nothing escapes our notice for long!

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>>4970128
Fuck yes we NAILED it this time bros
Can't wait to report this operation to Roth and fuck his full-blooded self-esteem in the ass again.

>>4970128
>>4970133
>>4970140
>>4970143
“Alright,” you begin in a hushed whisper, “I will take posssition near the front. Follow my lead, and sstep where I sstep. Amelie, you are the rearguard.”

“Wh-what?” she asks. “But why me?”

You dial up the demoniac charm and your own glamour, smiling and telling her it is because you trust her so much. Not even questioning why that would be so trusted, just as nobody questions how you knew about this sewer sanctuary, she falls into line with your other minions.

One of the many benefits of such a firm hold on your thralls is that they actually move with surprising stealth, truly following your steps like those of a reverent ritual dance. With your own vision and subtlety further enhanced by Irinnile’s abilities, your column moves deep into enemy territory with ease.

One thing that strikes you is the emptiness. You’ve never been down here when there WEREN’T wererats, be they guides or adversaries. On this descend into the undercity, one could be forgiven for thinking there was nothing down here but mundane waste-disposal architecture and human filth. Still, nobody questions your orders… And eventually, they are rewarded.

You hush up and halt the humans—who, admittedly, weren’t overly noisy to begin with—as your keen night-eyes and mystical senses detect another life form of appreciable size. You sneak forward alone a few more feet, and find the abandoned remains of the sad heap of furniture, clothing, and stolen knickknacks that once served as Boss Leo’s throne room as wererat king. Today, however, you find two of his lackeys—in human form, but two with whom you are familiar enough to know their true nature.

“This is a bad bad idea, Vin, a bad one. I mean it. You think nobody’s watching for us here?”

“You think anyone IS?” the other counters, rummaging through the ruins like a barbarian looting a fallen palace. “Leo’s long fuckin’ gone, and the guards have been through here twice.”

“What about Paladins? Tower?”

“Nox, you think the Paladins or the Tower are gonna’ have their people patrolling the SEWERS at midnight in the middle of the week? Come on, bullshit, not a chance, forget it.”

It seems they’re trying to collect what few resellable valuables both Boss Leo and the City Guard have left untouched in the weeks since you shattered their base of power and spoiled their anonymity. You sense only the two, and neither has noticed you at all…

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>>4970152
‘That ain’t all, though,’ Irinnile warns. ‘I sense… Something else. Something with a magic aura, and not no therianthrope curse. Not approaching, not retreating. Not close. But it’s down here, an' it's trying to hide from us.’

Well that’s troubling. What do you do?
>Approach the wererats and attempt to recruit their aid in tracking down their leader
>Send in the human fodder to attack, and slip away before whatever else turns up to spoil your night
>Charge in with the humans to kill [or capture, specify] the wererats, then delve deeper in search of Boss Leo
>You acquired magic glasses from the Towier Inquisitor whom you mugged a few nights ago—use them to tag and track one of the wererats
>Write-in

>>4970153
>You acquired magic glasses from the Towier Inquisitor whom you mugged a few nights ago—use them to tag and track one of the wererats
Outright making pacts next to 'our' xenohunters could lead to complications later.
>Tell the idiots to hold it and be on the lookout, something else is in here
>Carefully try to investigate the magical aura

Gotta figure out what the fuck is lurking in here before deciding to retreat or eliminate it.

>>4970160
+1, we're gonna try and speed run today!

>>4970153
>You acquired magic glasses from the Towier Inquisitor whom you mugged a few nights ago—use them to tag and track one of the wererats

for science

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>>4970160
>>4970164
>>4970166
“What’s with these guys?” the big one with the mace—Bors, you think?—asks.

“The stories said the wererats could look like regular people,” Joris notes.

“Hold, and be quiet,” you command the human fools. “Ssomeone elsse is here.”

“What?” Joris asks, startled.

“Shit, is it the guards? Asks the third, least interesting man—the one who seems to fancy himself a rogue or ranger, but his single-bladed shortsword. “We’re not supposed to—”

You shush them again, lest rats or guards or anything else overhear you. Without taking your yes off the two scrounging vermin rooting around in Leo’s lost treasures, you fish out the pair of glasses you stole from the Tower Inquisitor. You place them upon your face and glare daggers at the targets, channeling your magical energy through the complicated matrices of unfamiliar enchantment. Luckily, your accursed human blood aids in the pursuit, and the glasses do their work: the wererat called ‘Vin’ appears in the lenses as a red silhouette, visible even when he is obscured from your traditional senses. You look away, and a red glow in the corner of your vision continues to point you in the direction of the attuned quarry.

‘Bet you look hot as hell in them, too,’ Irnnile adds. ‘Babes in glasses really do it for me.’

You abandon the rats for now, confident in your ability to track them and with your magically-loyal human troops standing guard to alert you to any dire developments. While they attend to this, you investigate the source of the mystery aura. Could it be your other loose end, the occultist-turned-demon Lady Zivic? She has allied with Boss Leo and his sewer-scum before. You follow the side-tunnels to track the mystic energies back to…

The way you came in?

You see no skulking figure, no lurking demon-addled rat or crow. You peer further forward with succubus senses, and still you sense no one…

‘Ah shit, Lispy?’

Irinnile spots it, and so do you: one of the bars was marked with a normally-invisible sigil. Cursory inspection suggests some sort of detection spell, which is ringing along non-audible channels even now like a silent alarm. Someone, somewhere, is being tipped off to the usage of this tunnel by you or the wererats. It could be Zivic, but something about the distinctly textbook configuration makes you suspect the Tower are more likely culprits, or some other city official.

‘Whadda we do, babe?’ the succubus asks nervously.
>Abandon the enterprise for the night—let the humans take the blame if anyone officious comes asking
>Call out to the humans, and get them out of there too
>Shapeshift to disguise yourself in case you’re spotted, and go back in
>Disable the alarm spell, if you can, and hope nobody yet noticed it
>Waste no more time—get in, track down and slaughter rats, tie up loose ends, get out
>Write-in

>>4970330
>Call out to the humans, and get them out of there too
>Try to catch the rats and force them to lead you out of the sewer through a different, safe path
If we have to let one of rodents escape/go, let it be the one we're tracking.
>Use Irinnile to make sure you don't trigger any other alarms and to look out for new life forms

We all need to get out of the sewer through unmarked exit and asap. The Ratatouilles are our best chance.
I FUCKING KNEW IT. This is what I get for not planning like a paranoid autist the one time it would matter.

>>4970330
>Call out to the humans, and get them out of there too

Well, this turned into a bust. I was really looking forward to a good fight.

>>4970347
+1, though to be fair, it wasn't like we figured the Tower was actively involved in curtailing the were-rats. From what we gathered from the mind of that one mage, they were more focused on the cat-men than any were-rat gang.

>>4970330
>Disable the alarm spell, if you can, and hope nobody yet noticed it

Good practice for disabling tower spells

>>4970351
>Well, this turned into a bust. I was really looking forward to a good fight.
Don't tempt fate.

>though to be fair
But I always tried to make sure to approach situations in RIQ seriously unlike other quests. Walking into the sewers without manual screening after we sent the mages of Tower of mages on the wererat trail was asking for trouble.
Lessons learned, though. About perception rolls and nature of magic in the quest.

>>4970358
Sadly I have to disagree with integrating this unless we can attempt it remotely and in a matter of seconds. This alarm was triggered a while ago back when we entered and we have to gtfo before the Tower can react.

>>4970358
I'd rather make whoever put this here assume it was either the rats or a bunch of hooligans than peak their interest with someone noticing and disabling their invisible ward.

>>4970368
Maybe it was asking for trouble, but if the inquisitor gave any inkling as to taking seriously the were-rat claims, I would never have voted for such an excursion into were-rat territory.

>>4970379
Shame, I want to freak them out and make them wonder wtf is up. As an infiltrator we should be sowing discord and confusion.

>>4970368
How long does it take to walk down a tunnel and put on some glasses?

>>4970330
>Call out to the humans, and get them out of there too
Give them some excuse - we heard more wererats coming or something like that.

After this, it’s time to pick one and drain them a little

>>4970381
Glasses do nothing but point towards one person of our choosing.
To do that, we have to go back towards the entrance we want to get *away* from, then focus and attempt to disarm a magical trap left there by a skilled mage - something we never tried and have no idea about as an illusionist. Means: we have one roll.
If we fail, we have to go back and hope for rats to still be there to lead us out, assuming we don't get caught.
>>4970379 makes a very good point, too.

Attempting that disarm has potential to cause more damage than it has to help us.

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>>4970396
>we have one roll
[Point of clarification: I would classify a disable attempt as falling under "arcane studies", ie. 3d20, DC 15. It's a 'textbook spell', as the Infiltrator noted, which means she's read up on the publically-available basics of such sigils at the library with Edwin. The DC of 15 is because whoever set this and whatever their skill level, they put little effort or personal flourish into it. Perhaps, since wereats were a secondary focus to the Tower, they half-assed this measure?]

>>4970402
Ah shit, sorry. I'll stick to my plan anyways since if we disarm it, they will know there was a mage in here.

>>4970402
Even if they half-assed it, we shouldn't take these sorts of risks concerning the Tower, at least without shapeshifting first. Considering our current company, that's ill advised. It's quite a shame, I was hoping to make some serious progress on one of our side objectives, let alone a good fight.

I don't suppose any of you lads are up for a different sewer? Now that we know the Tower is fucking around, we can probably find and disable the wards without the alarm being triggered.

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Rolled 17, 11, 8, 8, 11, 7 = 62 (6d20)

>>4970394
>>4970358
>>4970351
>>4970347

‘Irinnile, scan for any additional alarm spells,’ you command.

‘That ain’t exactly how it works,’ she says.

A little annoyed, you ask ‘Well then, tell me how it DOES work.’

“I can detect it now ‘cause we’re scanning, and ‘cause it’s going off and sending a signal I can sense. My senses are justa bit more of a natural version of your mage sense, with a lot of practice behind it. Before we set it off, I’d have to be lookin’ REEEEAL close, ya’ know?’

“Great,” you mutter aloud and with great sarcasm.

You were actually sort of spoiling for a good fight, and the elimination of one of the many thorns in your side. However, tangling with the Mages’ Tower, only a little over a week before the Tower Gala? That’s not a risk you’re willing to take, and you can’t think of any way to pass by that alarm sigil OR to disable it without drawing suspicion. Stepping gingerly and with great care, you return to your human minions.

“We have to leave, now,” you tell them.

“Huh?” Bors asks. “Why?”

“There’ss… Trouble coming. Maybe more wererats, more than we can handle. I’m not sure.”


It’s a flimsy excuse, but the humans are all still under your influence, and the shirin high fills them, and you, with the nervous energy to get up and go. You can’t exactly leave the way you came, though… And eyeing the still none-the-wiser wererats in your sights, you come to the pleasing conclusion that you may not have to leave this sewer without a good fight, after all.

"We need a ssafe way out, and away from any ambush," you tell the humans. "Those ratss are going to give uss jusst that. Follow my lead."

[Cont., rolling 2d20 for your swordsmanship and 4d20 for the performance of your lackeys]

>>4970503
Sadly, your humans are far less useful against hardened street criminals with supernatural agility and home terrain advantage than they are at, say, menacing a burly food-vendor who is afraid to create a scene by fighting back. As you let them loose, they bellow and shriek silly battlecries, waving their weaponry about inexpertly and with choreographed attacks. If it weren’t for how utterly startled the rats were, you’re not sure you would even have got in range to engage the vermin before the apes sent them scampering out of reach.

Luckily, you are adaptable. Using your human entourage as a noisy and ineffectual decoy, you are able to sweep in and cut off the escape route of one wererat. His ally, harassed and frightened by the mob of drug-addled sycophants you’ve brought with you, dives into the pile of trash-or-treasure, and emerges out of the other side in his hideous half-rat shape. This sets Amelie to screeching, and the men to chasing after it, but they are already winded… Well, except Bors, who is just too slow.

You smirk. It hardly matters—the one who escapes it the one you have assigned your glasses to tracking… And Vin’s partner in crime, the one called Nox, is whimpering, back to the wall, your dagger at his throat. One wrong move and he’s headless—and he knows it.

“Ssnakegirl?!” he whines.

“What does he mean—” Joris begins.

“Ignore him,” you command, and Joris seemingly does.

You turn your attention back to Nox, smiling sweetly and explaining: “We need an escape route that doessn’t take uss through your main gate. Can you do that for uss, Noxxx?”

Nox doesn’t hesitate, just nods and cringes back from the sharpness of your knife. You scan his aura for deceptive intent, but find only fear. Perfect.

What do you do with Nox?
>Attempt to enthrall Nox, as you have the humans
>Use fear to keep Nox in line
>Use seduction and politesse to win Nox over organically
>Write-in

What is your plan?
>Take the side-route to escape the tunnels with the humans
>Backstab the humans and Nox, leaving no loose ends from this debacle
>Send the humans topside for now, and use Nox and the glasses to track down more wererats—maybe even Boss Leo—knowing you have an easy escape route if the Tower turns up
>Make good on your escape, but command your human thralls to delve deeper into the sewers on their own
>Write-in

>>4970514
>Attempt to enthrall Nox, as you have the humans
If that fails
>Use fear to keep Nox in line

>Send the humans topside for now, and use Nox and the glasses to track down more wererats—maybe even Boss Leo—knowing you have an easy escape route if the Tower turns up

I may be in the minority here, but I'm spoiling for a bit of a fight myself.

>>4970514
>Use fear to keep Nox in line

were the fuck is leeooooo

>Backstab the humans, and use Nox and the glasses to track down more wererats—maybe even Boss Leo—knowing you have an easy escape route if the Tower turns up

I want the humans dead and I also want to track down Leo

>>4970550
Why not bring the humans with us as meatshields? That's infinitely better than just going at it alone. Best part, of one manages to survive we can use them as a WANT battery.

>>4970563
Acceptable, as long as we don't just send them topside.

>>4970514
>Use fear to keep Nox in line

>Take the side-route to escape the tunnels with the humans

The Tower might investigate, let’s get out of here.

Kill Nox once we find the exit

Rolled 19, 15, 2, 19 = 55 (4d20)

>>4970607
>>4970593
>>4970550
>>4970521
As you eye the escape route, you can't help but linger. Your blood is boiling for a fight, hot with the thrilling memory of your last victory over the wererats and tingling with shirin. Nobody has arrived yet, and you have an easy means to quickly exit the situation, so why not at least attempt to finish what you started?

“Where doess thiss exit come up?” you demand, giving Nox a jab.

“M-midtown! Behind the merchants, three streets west of the library, north of the guardhouse.”

You draw a quick mental map.

“Good,” you say. “Now, take uss to your leader.”

“Wait, I thought we were leaving?” Amelie whines.

“Come now, do you really want to let these monsssterss infesst our beloved ccity?” you appeal to the humans.

“But you said…” Bors begins.

“How do you know so much about all this, anyway?” Joris asks.

“Guys, I really have to get home,” the third one with the unknown name complains.

You can feel your glamour waning, and so concentrate your energies upon their pliable minds.

>>4971094
Their will is weak, and easily subsumed. The questions cease, and if Nox has any of his own, your blade and the look on your face buts an end to their formation. The wererat leads you deeper into the maze of sewage tunnels.

“And don't forget,” you add brightly, “warn any of your friendss, or lie to uss, and I'll sspill your entrailss in thiss pool of wasste you call your home.”

Your glasses and the red glow they reveal through layers of masonry seemingly confirm Nox's bearing. Vin, at least, is up ahead. The same magic cowing the humans must also be weakening the will of the rat who guides you… Or else your natural predatory aura.

You slow down as you round a corner up ahead, pausing to listen carefully and to extend the feelers of Irinnile'a psychich sense.

“…go and loot my fuckin' shit, like I'm not coming back for it. You risk getting discovered in a place we KNOW the city has been snooping around to do it. And now Rossgard and a small army army are patrolling around down here, and they got one of our own. Am I accurately describing the FULL scope of your fuck-up, or is there more?”

That's Boss Leo's voice raging there, with Vin's reply an unintelligible and whispered squeak of apology. You sense four more souls in the vicinity: six rats altogether. Boss Leo's circle was never massive—slaughtering these rats could end the threat of their ilk in this city quite handiky.

What do you do?
>Charge in with your thralls and start chopping
>Attempt to stealth in and decapitate their leadership, Leo, so you can control the rest
>Backstab Nox and the humans, and use the full scope of your succubus powers to solo all these vermin with no witnesses
>Offer up the humans as a peace offering, to reopen diplomatic relations with Boss Leo
>Leave, now that you know where they are, to tip off the authorities
>Write-in

>>4971109
>Charge in with your thralls and start chopping

Thralls first, good little meatshields

>>4971109
One thing I wanna try (if it's possible to get a second weapon or use Irrinile to shapeshift one without humans noticing):
>Attempt to eliminate Leo from afar with a dagger
Then
>Charge in with your thralls and start chopping
Prioritize the oldfag, if applicable.
Try to eliminate the rats alongside our humans, but if that fails,
>Use the full scope of your succubus powers to solo all these vermin with no witnesses

This made me wonder if we could use succubus to boost our combat skills. Like, can she help us hit the Leo in this situation?

>>4971298
[Irinnile can shapeshift weapons for you, at +1 WANT; however, doing so will only allow you to materialize something directly connected to your body, and made from the same materials, unless you perform a ritual not unlike what Lord Bianchi did to create his sceptre. It will also likely stand out a little if you open your hand and reveal the bony dagger is connected to your palm or the like.]

>>4971423
Okay, then just ask if the rat or one of humans has a spare dagger, unless we have an extra.

>>4971117
Supporting

Rolled 9, 16, 18, 18, 3, 11, 7, 9, 3 = 94 (9d20)

>>4971117
>>4971298
>>4971506
[3d20 for stealthy approach, 2 for your performance, 4 with DC 16 for your untrained allies]

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>>4971611
You approach quietly at first, but then something strikes you: there is no full moon, and the wererats have always seemed to prefer lounging about in human forms when possible, only transforming to do their dirty deeds or in response to your presence. With evil glee, you skulk closer still, and for the first time behold Boss Leo as he is when not transfigured by his curse: a fat, old, grey-haired human with pale skin and weathered, warty features, looking sweaty and tired. As soon as you have eyes on this sad king and his little court of wererats, you know that you can’t let them escape. Exhilaration and irritation fill you in equal measure. THIS is the beast that has so vexed you?!

You kick Nox in his unsuspecting rear end, sending his squawking and flailing to the ground, and point your dagger squarely at your target: Leo.

“Hello again, ‘Bossss’,” you mock his imagined station.

The chiefmost among wererats looks at you with furious, bulging eyes. Before he or his minions can transform themselves, though, your forces are upon him! If they have any doubt as to the nature of the apparent humans—two scraggly-looking young women, two men of mixed complexions with many signs of hard living—the transformed Vin kneeling in penance amongst them gives them license t do what they will. With your will in the back of their minds and shirin in their blood, they are ravenous killing machines!

…It’s just a shame they’re so green. Untraiend novices playing pretend are no match for even an old and untransformed wererat. Even with the element of surprise, they chase the accursed sewer-dwellers around with reckless, fooling lunges, tackles, and wild swings. They smash masonry and send the rats skittering, but almost as quickly as the assault has begun, Emelie is being pinned down and disarmed and the wererats are taking advantage of the chaos to mob and drag down Bors.

Only Boss Leo remains free of the fray, but that suits you just fine. You want that bustard’s head! Again, the fumbling and bumbling of your humans at least creates chaos, and you are trained specially to take advantage of such events. Springboarding off of prone Amelie and her attackers, you raise your dagger high and plunge it down into the wererat leader. He brings up hands to protect him, but your aim is true, your blade sharp, your purpose clear: you pierce both of his wisened old hands, and down into his face.

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>>4971650
The old man stumbles back, shrieking and squealing like a real rat despite his human form. You hold fast to your dagger, pulling it loose, and to your surprise and dismay Boss Leo begins to heal and mend. Worse yet, he begins to transform himself into his mightier rodentine form.

“We coulda’—we coulda’ ruled this town, you stupid snake bitch!” he spits, clutching at his face as hair sprouts in uneven, weed-like tufts from every exposed patch of skin and his clothes begin to split around his swelling, overripe form.

“They perhapss you should have treated our alliancce with greater care?” you suggest innocently, twirling a blade and advancing.

“What, like you did?” he laughs bitterly. “promising us ransoms, promising us access, and then what? Cancelling every plan, reworking things around us, eliminating your other ‘allies’ as soon as they’re used up. Where were our assurances? What were we supposed to do?”

“Die,” you answer easily. “Die, like good vermin do.”

“You first!” he screams, lunging for you with his newly ratlike mouth wide open, saliva dripping from razor-sharp incisors…


And impaling itself upon your blade, right down his throat. He struggles. He squirms and thrashes, but it is to no avail.

“Goodbye, Leo,” you sigh happily as you draw the blade out and, with another swing, slice his throat. Falling upon him, you chop at his neck again and again.

‘Take the head!’ Irinnile instructs. ‘Take it right off!’

And so you do. The other participants of the skirmish are startled and dismayed by your ferocity, the shock of their various bites, scratches, and scrapes beginning to awaken the humans to their predicament even as the wererats are gaining the upper hand over them. Only Nox, until recently still wriggling on the ground, has avoided joining the fray. You can tell that, despite your decapitating strike, your ‘forces’ are still facing a losing battle…

But without their leader, the old man who bestowed their curse and their blessing, the lesser wererats are shaken. His harem-wretches are sobbing and crying out for their lost sultan of the sewers, and his honour guard look ready to desert the field for sheer terror of the look in your eyes and the gore sprayed across your face and chest.

What do you do?
>Invoke Irinnile’s mastery of fear to drive the wererats away—you’ve done what you set out to do
>Demand the allegiance of all in this chamber, and reinforce that demand with a glamour
>Transform into a demonic shape and end this farce in a full-blown massacre of everyone here
>Rally your humans to finish the job against the wererats, as a team
>Abandon the field, and let these fools sort the res out for themselves
>Write-in

>>4971652
>Demand the allegiance of all in this chamber, and reinforce that demand with a glamour

While most of this was unplanned, I did enjoy how we springboarded an opportunity into a full blown success of a side objective, and I will be very amused if we manage to usurp Leo and take control of his little gang. I'm not too picky if we decide not to, but this may be a good opportunity to start spreading the were-rat infection throughout Hawksong, to cause even more chaos when we do choose, and these tools may help with us with our mission, both Divine and professional.

Also, we did fuck up things with Leo huh? Was it intentional or were there other circumstances involved?

>>4971652
>Rally your humans to finish the job against the wererats, as a team
We don’t need the rats - hunt them down like the vermin they are

>>4971764
We don't need them, but they could be useful agents for chaos and mass hysteria, if we need that. Could certainly draw attention away from our other overt activities, assuming we'd need something like that.

>>4971652
>Rally your humans to finish the job against the wererats, as a team

Rather just eliminate these rogue elements that could obstruct our mission

Wererats that can sense our true nature even though we're a halfblood are too dangerous to let live

Rolled 20, 6, 15, 1, 6, 15 = 63 (6d20)

>>4971888
>>4971764
>>4971692

Rolled 20, 14, 12, 20 = 66 (4d20)

>>4972004

>>4972004
>>4972012
Well, this will be interesting.

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>>4972012
>>4972004
You briefly imagine yourself as Queen of the Undercity, Lady of Wererats, Boss Izzy…

But no. That is a sad dream for foul and lowly creatures. Maybe a beast like Leo could content himself with that, knowing he could hope for nothing better, but in your dreams you have presided over the city of Hawksong as a princess, like Kamunu, but real! You will not settle for squalor, nor will you force yourself to treat with the filthy creatures who those weeks ago used and abused you in such a degrading manner. You will scrub them, and any legacy of your early failures, from the world you will lord over!

“ATTACK!” comes your command.

At first, the humans are hesitant, almost as eager to flee as the rats, but you squint your eyes and speak the words again with the aethereal echo of your power:

<ATTACK>

You humans can do little else in the face of your majesty, your dominance. Like puppets, they jerk towards their foes. The wererats, who had been considering escape, have their hand forced. Bors falls, the highest priority target for his sheer mass and strength; neither saves him from knives, from claws, from fangs. He is ripped apart raw. His friends’ eyes bug out, but your force is still too compelling to even afford them a scream. The remaining three humans slash and stab and hack and fall. They live, but even with your ‘motivation’ they are no match for cornered wererats fighting for their lives…

But nor are those wererats any match for you. You take up Bors’ mace and whirl it above your head a couple times. You grin as you get a handle on the impractical, flail-like club, and you swing it low to take out a leg. It may be a somewhat dangerous weapon even to the wielder, but in experienced hands it splinters spindly rodent-legs like twigs, and it bashes in head quite effectively. If decapitation is what it takes to finish these creatures, well, you can give them a proper send-off!

And so you do. When Nox attempts to close in, you party his blow with your sword and send him careening into the human whose name you still can’t recall. As for the others, you bash heads from shoulders, or crush them as their owners lie prone. One male, one female, two females, two males! When Nox disentangles himself and tries to flee through one of the adjoining apssages, he slips and falls on the slimey viscera of his own sad little adopted family… And then joins them.

You hear joyful laughter, and only realize it is your own when every last wererat has been run to ground and slain, and you stand triumphant!

‘There might still be a wererat or two in Hawksong, ya’ know,’ Irinnile comments.

‘Don’t spoil this,’ you reply.

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>>4972022
The humans, useless save as distractions through the whole affair, are staring at you dumbly, screaming feebly within their minds but unable to even wail their companion’s name aloud. You have never had such command of another, that you can recall—total dominion! Is it Irinnile’s bond with you? The thrill of brutal, efficient bloodshed? The shirin?
>The blood
>The shirin
>Your bond with the demon
[Choose ONE, no write-ins]

However… The humans have seen and heard a great deal, some of which may incriminate you. One of their own is dead. The Tower, or worse, may be coming! And your shirin high is wearing off…

<WANT: 14>

Oh, and there’s that.

What do you do?
>Slay the humans, and make it look like wererats did the deed, so that anyone who finds this scene will see only an ill-fated battle between vigilantes and sewer-monsters
>Attempt to use your newfound psychic dominance to purge their memories of anything incriminating, and keep them as loyal puppets for later
>Drag them along to the surface and milk the survivors to reduce your WANT
>Just leave them here to take the fall for this mess
>Write-in

>>4972023
>Your bond with the demon

Honestly? It's a tie between this or the blood, but I figure I'll throw Irinnile a bone here. And speaking of bones...

>Attempt to use your newfound psychic dominance to purge their memories of anything incriminating, and keep them as loyal puppets for later
>Drag them along to the surface and milk the survivors to reduce your WANT

Adventurer armor isn't cheap, and I would like to practice our psychic abilities.

>>4972030
Actually, it may be a smart idea to recontextualize current events in a better light, by making it seem this excursion was Bors’ idea and that he heroically lead the charge and sacrificed himself to save his friends from the were-rats, and they were an integral part to defeating this threat. That way if they were found out, they would take the fall for this mess, and maybe their friend's 'sacrifice' might encourage them to train so that they won't just be useless meat-shields the next time we need some dirty work done.

>>4972023
>The shirin
For me it's this or Irinnile, so I'm throwing in a vote for variety.
>Attempt to use your newfound psychic dominance to purge their memories of anything incriminating
I'm all for recontextualizing the events, but would like to leave asap instead of fooking the thralls. Might get an unpleasant surprise if we stick around for too long after that magic alarm went off and we started a fight which wasn't exactly quiet.
We can always calm down the WANT with the help from Edwin or Roth.

It was very satisfying to see our snek operate the mace so well. Clearly no need for dragonbloods when a degenerate gets stepped on and makes a path with sex-demon.

>>4972030
Supporting.

If we fail to purge their memories, just kill them

>>4972023
>Your bond with the demon

>Slay the humans, and make it look like wererats did the deed, so that anyone who finds this scene will see only an ill-fated battle between vigilantes and sewer-monsters

>>4972195
I assume when we assuage our WANT it'll be far away from here.

File: index.jpg (16 KB, 225x225)

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Rolled 13, 3, 2, 9 = 27 (4d20)

>>4972300
>>4972195
>>4972137
>>4972030
[DC 10 to purge memories, DC 15 to rewrite with new ones, DC 20 to inspire lasting loyalty even when the magic wears off]

>>4972367
Damn, I guess we'll work on this later if they survive the WANT.

>>4972367
You know that it is your increased psychic and personal intimacy with Irinnile which has brought you to this point, making your glamour and her more elaborate manipulations of hearts and minds meld into something… Greater. Into hypnosis, a greater mentalism that can allow you to manipulate an even conscious minds!

‘You’re welcome,’ the demon pouts, but you can sense the tease.

‘You’re right,’ you acknowledge. ‘Thank you. I am… Grateful.’

‘Aww shucks Lispy, if Bianchi an’ you didn’t imagine me scarlet I’d be blushing!’

<Irinnile Affection: 70%>

First ‘suggesting’ that they take a seat, you turn these newly strengthened powers upon your thralls, delving into all three minds almost as one. You are cognizant that time is not on your side: your pitched battle will no doubt attract anyone responding to the magic alarm you set off. You find their minds as a hazy cloud of ideas, fears, desires. Most of them involve the danger of wererats, the danger of YOU, and questions about the relationship between the two aforementioned parties, as well as grief for a lost compatriot. You can do little about the latter—try as you might, you cannot figure out how to reliably purge and replace such vivid memories as the nature of his final moments and his death in three waking minds at once. What you ARE able to do is to eliminate any mention of ‘snakegirl’, of ‘ruling this city together’, of a pre-existing relationship or the exact specifics of how you located and identified the wererat leader.

You also learn the third one’s name: Davide. Huh.

<WANT: 15>

‘Sorry, babe,’ Irinnile sighs. ‘We can work on it later?’

‘If they survive your feeding-time,’ you reply with a mental shrug.

Irinnile squeals happily in your mind’s ear. ‘You mean it?!’

‘You’ve been a good girl,’ you tell her. ‘You deserve a treat.’

‘Then let’s get to fuc—’

‘AFTER we get out of here,’ you clarify.

‘Fiiiiine,’ she agrees melodramatically.

You drop your incriminating (and not terribly practical) borrowed morningstar. You cannot drag Bors’ massive corpse with you, but his wounds and the bodies around him tell a clear tale: a male beset by wererats, who slaughtered his way free but not before succumbing to his injuries. You may need to steer some inquiries later, but no obvious tells of your involvement jump out at you. It will do for now.

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>>4972423
You lead the three dazed and confused humans back up the side passage, and none too soon; a quick scan with your mystic senses tells you that two people with fairly rich reserves of mystical power are coming to investigate. You return to the surface-world of Hawksong right where the now-dead Nox said you would: a back alley behind some storefronts, west of the library, north of the closest guardhouse.

“I can’t believe that Bors is gone…” Amelie mutters

The female is the strongest will among the bunch. The other two hardly seem to notice their ally’s absence until she mentions. Their blank features begin to furrow and crease.

“He died a hero, ssaving uss all,” you affirm.

Unable to remember anything to contradict this, the others can only stare and nod, and mutter a few appreciative words to that affect.

“Now, we can’t be wandering the sstreetss covered in blood,” you explain. “Sstrip.”

“What are you—woah!”

Joris’ confused reply is cut short as you slide out of your armour and underclothes and reveal your succubus-enhanced shape. Davide, too, is enraptured. Only accursed Amelie seems immune, or at least resistant, to your lust-inspiring effect—perhaps she’s simply too heterosexually inclined? As the other two begin to eagerly strip down and to reveal the swell of their arousal, she is merely confused and annoyed.

“You guys can’t be serious…” her protest is still weak, eyes still glassy and lips still half-parted in hypnotized disorientation. “Shouldn’t we… We should…”

You shush her with a kiss, and though she struggles, the <WANT> you draw from her leaves her weakened, and the pull of Irinnile’s desirous nature and your own glamour is too much. She may not be attracted to YOU, but as you guide her hand to Davide’s body, she finds her own urges enflamed. You can tell she’d prefer Joris, but you take a perverse pleasure in milking him first, for your own benefit.

‘You (nf) want me to (uh) leave them alive, Lispy? (fffuck)’

A good question, and it’s perhaps the first time Irinnile has had the presence of mind mid-coitus to ask you, and to heed your answer. You could reduce your <WANT> handily without even knocking them unconscious, as it is, maybe as low as (if you were to put a number to it) 12. However, you could knock it all the way down to a 9 even if absorbed every delicious drop of life-force.

What do you do?
>Spare the humans, to use later as you see fit
>Fuck them to death to feed the demon
>Write-in

>>4972425
Eventually, the deed is done—whichever option you opt for. Though the carnality invigorates your magic, you are physically exhausted from the depletion of your shirin-derived energy and the dropoff of your adrenaline.

What comes next?
>Stealth back down into the sewers to see who has come to investigate the alarm
>Return to The Pretty Kitty for the evening
>Go home to Engel Manor, lest Edwin worry his pretty little head unduly
>Pay a visit to Roth, to report on the assassination of Leo and the wererats, and sleep there
>Write-in

>>4972425
>Spare the humans, to use later as you see fit

Spare batteries. Plus, this is too close to the sewers to be draining them fully., and last time it was a ball ache to dispose of the body parts. Make sure we get their addresses though, so we can pay them a visit to top off and work our psychic abilities on them.

>>4972428
>Go home to Engel Manor, lest Edwin worry his pretty little head unduly

I have no real opinion on where we stay, but I figure that this'll be a nice way to fill our bellies and satisfy our WANT at the same time.

>>4972425
>Fuck them to death to feed the demon

seriously, loose ends. kill them all
plus it will leave succ happy enough that we can do the following completely safely

>Go home to Engel Manor, lest Edwin worry his pretty little head unduly

>>4972425
>Spare the humans
Personally, I don't wanna use these weak-ass thugs in the future, especially when we have to make sure they don't figure us out until we manage to break them. Might as well just ask Roth next time. This was a spontaneous action to use our expendable asset, after all.
>Go home to Engel Manor, lest Edwin worry his pretty little head unduly
It's been along night. Must return to bed and coil around our human heater.

Seeing how much the power was in favor of the rats, if we let the humans go alone would they 100% get turned into more wererats?

>>4972567
>Seeing how much the power was in favor of the rats, if we let the humans go alone would they 100% get turned into more wererats?

Your understanding of tye curse is limited. Irinnile knows that destroying tge head or heart of an accursed creature of their sort can prevent regeneration, and you know their curse is spread through a bite. During your sexual escapades, you can see some evidence of srapes, scratches, and gouges, but no obvious bites. Many of the wererats spent the bulk of the fight in human form, as well.

>>4972611
Well it wasn't about the curse and details necessarily, I was just curious if they were destined to lose if we sent them alone, since we saw that wererats would absolutely wipe them without Ismena.

>>4972651
[Oh, probably, especially with those rolls. It wasn't predestined, but they were at a disadvantage.]

>>4972461
Supporting.

These guys are too weak and the woman is annoyingly independent. Just kill them to tie up loose ends.

>>4972817
>>4972567
>>4972461
>>4972448
[It seems you're definitely going to spend the night at the Engel manor, but what to do about the humans? We have a tie vote as to how to handle them...]

>>4973015
I don't know what the other anons are thinking, but we've been complaining about not having helpers for a while now. While these hooligans are far form ideal, surely they are better than nothing?

Plus, I don't want to deal with hiding bodies that have been drained to death, especially with the Tower nosing about. You wanna kill them? Drain them individually, and away from prying eyes, not together in a fucking alley in front of the sewer being investigated.

>>4973047
Fine, I’ll change my vote here >>4972817

From kill to spare - that woman is the first to go though. She’s too independent

>>4973047
Have I shared my love of fire and its use in cremation yet?

>>4973213
>>4972817
>>4972567
>>4972461
>>4972448

You decide against slaughtering these sheep here and now. It’s not affection, or even that you’re sure these three bumblers will ever amount to useful help—though with your masterful mentorship, who knows?—but rather that you don’t want to leave a pile of bodies this close to an active investigation, nor do you want to waste time and energy covering up their ‘disappearances’. You take what you need and send them on their way.

<WANT: 12>

For your part, you tidy up and head to the Engelson residence. Edwin worries when you’re away for too long and, aside from that… Well, you’ve come to appreciate sleeping next to a warm mammalian body. His in particular.

<Edwin of Engel Affection: 89%>

When you arrive, it is with no great fanfare. The servants know you well enough to bother you with no silly questions, simply letting you in and alerting Edwin to your arrival. He is wearing a star-spangled sleeping gown hardly different from his usual faux-wizard robes, and yet when you look at him, you want nothing more than to fall into his arms, snuggle up, and doze the night away.

“Izzy? You’re home late…”

It’s a light chastisement, and you shrug it away without an answer. He doesn’t press.

“You look… Are you okay?”

How diplomatic. You frown slightly and peer into the shiny chest of a never-worn suit of decorative armour on display in the foyer. You DO look a little haggard, despite the stolen lifeforce buzzing beneath your skin. It must be the shirin, you reason, and maybe a biiit too much gusto and too little rest.

“I will be,” you answer truthfully. “I jusst need ssleep.”

Edwin offers you some assistance ascending the stairs, which is patronizing, but sweet. You accept, and consider petitioning to be carried through the portal. He’s certainly tall enough to make you muse over having him carry you to bed, but as your relations remain more of an open secret than an actual official engagement, it’s best not to scandalize the help more than you need to… And anyway, his is the gangly form of a scholar, not an athlete.

>>4973320
‘Big where it counts, though, amirite?’ Irinnile giggles.

There IS that… And you could stand to satisfy the succubus’ appetite a little more before bed. However, you hardly have the energy to wash more thoroughly and, well… It’s been a busy night in more ways than one. You’ve never outright spoken with Edwin about your continued ‘wetwork’ for The Pretty Kitty, dodging questions even as he is too embarrassed or afraid to ask indirectly if you’re still prostituting yourself. Tonight wasn’t QUITE that, but sex could raise further questions.

You ultimately climb the stairs mostly on your own, enter his chamber, and flop down on the bed as you consider your options.

What do you do?
>Just sleep it off, wash up in the morning, and deal with the <WANT> before breakfast
>Fuck it—it’s dark, you’re needy, and you can glamour Edwin if he gets nosy. You want him.
>Force yourself to get back up and go wash off, exhaustion bed damned
>Cuddle and kiss, sating just a LITTLE want and filling your need for affection without risking Edwin's feelings
>Speak with Edwin about your mutual expectations vis a vis monogamy and sexwork
>Write-in

[choice may affect affection levels with Edwin]

>>4973322
>Force yourself to get back up and go wash off, exhaustion be damned

sleeping while gross is unpleasant

>>4973322
>Force yourself to get back up and go wash off, exhaustion bed damned
>Cuddle and kiss, sating just a LITTLE want and filling your need for affection without risking Edwin's feelings

We'll bang his brains out in the morning, but a little snacc never hurt anybody.

>>4973397
Supporting

>>4973322
>Force yourself to get back up and go wash off, exhaustion be damned
cleaning firsst
>Cuddle and kiss, sating just a LITTLE want and filling your need for affection without risking Edwin's feelings
A handy?

Rolled 11, 20, 3 = 34 (3d20)

>>4973577
>>4973397
>>4973332

Is that a crit on seduction I see? Truly a Reptilian Infiltrator moment.

>>4973803
You force yourself back up with a groan. By all the unnumbered and unknowable Dark Gods, you won’t sleep in filth!

“I’ll be right back. I’m ssweaty from my shift” you tell Edwin, giving him a peck of the cheek. “Wait for me?”

“Uh, sure. I’ll just be reading.”

You smile. “Of coursse you will.”

The bathing room here at the manor is infinitely more private, better furnished, and nearly as spacious as the communal one at The Pretty Kitty. The only downside is that, without any other people using this particular room throughout the day, the hot water is not routinely refreshed. It takes some time to warm it up. Bathing with cold water isn’t an option—with you low body temperature and your exhaustion, it would knock you right out.

You settle for the usual sort of bath you have been accustomed to before work: a hot bucket of water and a cloth and sponge for your skin. You note that a few scaly patches have begun to show themselves around your extremities again, and across your cheeks; at the moment, they look like little more than regular old dry patches of human skin, but you know that the golden-green tint of your mother’s scales will show itself soon. You have just enough oil to tide you over for tonight, but you’ve neglected to restock it. Well, you needed to visit an apothecary to stretch your shirin supply anyway, right?

‘Or I could just handle that permanently, ya’ know?’

Irinnile raises a valid point. She’s already meddled with other parts of your anatomy… Why not this to?
>Shapeshift the scaly patches away
>Use the last of your oil up

When you are washes and your scales hidden by your chosen means, you return to bed. Edwin is indeed still holding his book, though his eyes have slid shut. Ever the gentleman, you can see he’s worn pyjamas to bed—no assumptions on his part. He’s so very different from your clients. You slip under the covers and open his robes and huddle up inside against the warmth of his skin, coiling yourself around him.

‘Mmm, that energy. And that THICKNESS.’

“Nnn… Izzy?”

You forcibly retake control of your hand from Irinnile, sliding it away from Edwin’s genitals and up his body.

‘Down, demon,’ you command her. ‘We’re just taking a little right now.’

Irinnile complies, but grudgingly.

“Sshhh…” you whisper to Edwin, and kiss his lips softly.

The flow of his mystic energies into you sets you and the demon inside you both to tingling. Is it more vibrant than before, flowing more easily? It was an observation you noticed after Irinnile last took control of you during a sexual encounter with Edwin, but you have yet to explore the implications. Well, you lack the energy to do so tonight, but the warmth of his siphoned energy and his body heat alike keep you warm as you drift off into the easiest sleep that you’ve had for some time…

>>4973819
<Nine days to the Tower Gala>
<Meeting with Helga Warchest and Kelvyn Jemkottur scheduled today>
<WANT: 11 (or 12 if scales shapeshifted away)>
<Edwin Affection: 91%>
<Irinnile Affection: 70%>
<Shirin supplies: moderate>

You wake before any of the mammals in the household, full of energy and with your muscles ore relaxed than they have been in days. You are still in Edwin’s full-body embrace and snuggled into the crook of his neck. You sigh happily, enjoying it for what it is, but knowing it can’t last all day. You are a busy lizard-woman, with things to do. Well one less at least, with the wererat infestation as good as dealt with! Nevertheless, you have more work to attend to.

Priority number one…
>Morning sex and breakfast—you can afford to slack a little bit
>Check out The Enchanted Grove Alchemical & Floral Boutique, to find filler for your shirin and maybe some more body-oil
>Go to the Initiate’s Village to find some rube you can manipulate into helping you bypass Tower defences
>Pay a visit to your co-conspirators from last night, to ensure you keep your stories straight and your pawns loyal
>Investigate the Yosef family further, in service to their extinction
>Write-in

>>4973819
>Shapeshift the scaly patches away

>>4973822
>Pay a visit to your co-conspirators from last night, to ensure you keep your stories straight and your pawns loyal

really wish we had just killed them

>>4973819
>Use the last of your oil up

I sort of like mom's scales, it's the only thing we have left to remember her by.

>>4973822
>Check out The Enchanted Grove Alchemical & Floral Boutique, to find filler for your shirin and maybe some more body-oil
>Go to the Initiate’s Village to find some rube you can manipulate into helping you bypass Tower defences

I say we should fix our shirin problem first, then move the to subverting the Tower for today.

>>4973819
>Use the last of your oil up
Let's do our little custom for the last time since we have just a little left. We can consider the permanent solution the next time the scales begin showing. Plus less WANT for today.
>Ask Irinnile whether she can remove your lisp for the Gala
Just so we don't accidentally bring extra unwanted attention to ourselves. She offered to do it permanently, but that's a part of Ismena's charm, especially as Kamunu, so just for Gala.
>Ask whether our (even tiny) transformations would stay if she was removed from our body, and whether right spells could turn us back into our original form with her still present
Gotta know this.
>Breakfast, but quick
Let's not just leave Edwin without a word
>Check out The Enchanted Grove Alchemical & Floral Boutique, to find filler for your shirin and maybe some more body-oil
Let's find the filler, but also get the oil just in case.
>Pay a visit to your co-conspirators from last night, to ensure you keep your stories straight and your pawns loyal
I don't think we'll have to worry about them further if everything went right. This is just a control visit and a little story correction at worst.


>>4973849
>I sort of like mom's scales, it's the only thing we have left to remember her by.
I also think of the oil custom as a reminder of the training and a physical link to our real identity and background.

>fix our shirin problem
Damn, forgot we were even supposed to find a replacement.

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270 KB PNG

>>4973875
>>4973849
>>4973843
You rouse Edwin of Engel from his lumber, evidently earlier than he’d hoped that you would.

“Ugh… You got home after midnight. How are you already awake, Izzy?”

“Musst be my diet and the shirin,” you suggest innocently. “I have another busy day, but I didn’t want to leave without saying goodbye.”

Your bleary-eyed human smiles at you, and pulls you into his embrace for another kiss. You melt into it, savouring this one last moment of peace. A part of you sometimes really wishes that your whole life could be like this… But you are no sleepy surface ape. Even half-human, yours is a noble bloodline, and a divine purpose!

Having decided not to eliminate your last memory of your mother and your true purpose here by smoothing away your scales with Irinnile’s shapeshifting, you sue dup the last of your oil. This is a situation which must then be rectified and, hey, what time like the present to visit your half-elven plaything Qicerys to seek out herbs which could stretch out your limited and unpredictable supply of shirin? If it’s to be a staple of The Pretty Kitty moving forward, that will be a must!

Aside from that, you have been musing over the idea of gaining intel on the Toer’s defences by manipulating or enchanting some sap from the Initiate’s Village. You also have some concerns about what your pawns from last night’s extermination campaign might say or do when your influence wanes. If everything went well, they should eb fine to leave unsupervised for a while, but you don’t want to let them go unchecked for TOO long…

The Enchanted Grove Alchemical & Floral Boutique comes first, though! You get dressed and enjoy a quick sausage-and-egg breakfast with Edwin.

‘Not the sausage I wanted,’ Irinnile gripes.

‘Ah, you’re awake,’ you note.

‘I don’t sleep,’ she says simply. ‘You’re cute when you get all cuddly, though.’

‘Nevermind that,’ you hastily reply, ‘I have some questions for you…’

>Ask Irinnile whether she can remove your lisp for the Gala
‘Anytime, Lispy!’ she says cheerily. ‘But won’t Edwin wonder where your accccccccent went?’

‘Let me worry about that at the time,’ you say.

>Ask whether our (even tiny) transformations would stay if she was removed from our body, and whether right spells could turn us back into our original form with her still present
‘You mean the T-and-A I enhanced for ya’?’

‘Yes. Those.’

‘What, you don’t like ‘em? I can turn you back whenever. I just thought, you know, who doesn’t like being a bit bouncier where it counts, right?’

‘And if I was to remove you—’

‘Baaabe, I thought we were getting’ past all that!’

‘IF I was to remove you from my body,’ you continue, ‘what would happen to any of the so-called enhancements?’

‘They’d go bye-bye, I guess,’ she replies with a mental shrug.

>>4974032
With these problems sorted, you put on your slightly-singed elven jacket and pantsuit and begin to load up your pack. Edwin watches you pensively, until eventually you sigh and glance his way.

“Yess, Edwin?” you ask.

“I was wondering if, maybe, I might be useful for this particular… Business venture?”

Edwin WAS the one to translate the Eastern names of the herbs which are ground up to manufacture shirin. He also has more knowledge of local herbs and their uses in mysticism and alchemy than you do. However, a good part of your typical stratagem for dealing with Qicerys is brazen flirting, and your other business today is no place for a naïve noble like your boy Edwin.

What will you do?
>Take Edwin along
>Leave him at home
>Bring Edwin, but change or reorganize your plans for after your visit to The Enchanted Grove
>Bring Edwin, but ONLY for this first job [specify if you have an excuse for why he can’t help you with your other matters]
>Write-in

>>4974050
>>Bring Edwin, but change or reorganize your plans for after your visit to The Enchanted Grove

>>4974050
>Bring Edwin, but change or reorganize your plans for after your visit to The Enchanted Grove

ugh

Not sure we wanna lose the lisp, maybe work on it and gradually ditch it but not all at once because that would look weird to people who already know us. Weirder than just having the accent would.

>>4974050
>Leave him at home

I just don't like mixing our double life. I will say that Edwin and Qicerys may be able to talk shop about viable shirin herbal supplements way better than we ever could, and maybe they'll get along swimmingly. We should send him out when we're negotiating with Qicerys however, maybe for a nice refreshment or something.

>>4974050
>Bring Edwin, but change or reorganize your plans for after your visit to The Enchanted Grove
Cute, he's gonna help us pick the druugs! lmao

>>4974229
Yeah, I'm not trying to push that idea. Just thought that Ismena could sound normal on her own with a bit of focus and we could use Irinnile purely as a safeguard. I musst've missinterpreted when people called out our assent.

>>4974428
Seems our scales would start poppin again if something suddenly removed the demon. Just like I thought.

>>4974050
>>Leave him at home

>>4974973
>>4974711
>>4974428
>>4974229
>>4974178
Edwin is too cute—and too useful to this particular mission—to resist. However, he isn’t privy to your double life, which is going to mean some adjustments to the planned flow of your day. But just look at that broad grin stretch across his face when you acquiesce to his request! How could you say no?

Naturally, you have him requisition a carriage again. Walking is for suckers. You also ask him to load the cask of shirin into the carriage. Edwin isn’t the strongest, but he’s eager to help, and he does his best to heave it up and in, while you relax and plan your move. You could get used to this!

A quick inspection of the cask reveals that, alas, most of the weight is the cask itself. Inside, you have probably enough shirin for a hundred or so doses, at the potency with which you usually enjoy the ‘spice’. The Eastern Standard Silk & Spice Company’s owner, the cat-man Cuggi, was cagey about when they might be able to return with more, and how much. They have traditionally entered Hawksong about twice a year. You’d need to double or triple the amount of material with some sort of reagent or ingredient to stretch this amount that far, and to still be offering it at The Pretty Kitty routinely.

The carriage conveys the two of you to the by-now familiar location of The Enchanted Grove. The specialty store has its sign up now: its name in fine script with a distinctly elven ornateness, and a small silhouette of a fairy with wand casting some sort of whimsical spell upon a flower. Nearby are a regular apothecary and a leatherworking boutique specializing in armours and faux-armours for the young adventure-chic set. You eye the set in the window, but only for a moment—you’re here on a mission, and your Enchanted Grove-made armour has proven more than sufficient.

Qicerys, the half-elf proprietress of the Grove, is helping the two halflings in her employ when you enter. She’s hardly taller than them, when you see her next to them—under five feet, anyway. They are tending to a number of exotic-looking flowering plants in one window, explaining the particular composition of their alchemically-derived fertilizer mix, and the apparently variable speeds at which each must be turned to match the movement of the sun as the height of summer approaches.

“Hi again,” you interrupt, causing he to squeak and jump slightly. What a flighty creature she is!

“Oh, um, yes! You! And you, um… You brought a friend.”

Edwin introduces himself, and the two of you move swiftly onto business, discussing the contents of the cask.

>>4974988
“Shirin?” Qicerys repeats. “I’ve never heard of it.”

“Perhaps you’ll recognize the names of the pants involved in its production?” Edwin suggests. He speaks the names in the Eastern tongue. And Qicerys frowns.

“The roots are from a plant not unlike one known locally as ‘fireweed’, for the burning sensation that the leaves themselves produce when consumed. The roots are sometimes used as a… Ah…”

Qicerys flushes slightly, and Irinnile supplies the reason in the back of your mind.

“And aphrodisssiac?” you finish for her.

Qicerys nods, adjusting her spectacles and fidgeting even at the word. “It’s really more of a general improver of blood-flow, and a mild stimulant. The effects don’t last long. Given the difficulty to cultivate it at lower elevations, it’s not terribly popular, but I keep a small supply of dried samples.”

“And what of the broad-leafed plant, the primary ingredient?” Edwin asks.

“It’s… Not something we really have a local equivalent to. However, if I were to examine the shirin, I could maybe figure out what the active compound is and attempt to source a substitute from an admixture of other plants…”

‘Could maybe,’ Irinnile notes. ‘That means she could maybe NOT, and we’d lose out on some shirin in the process. Just sayin’.’

“How much would all thiss cosst?” you ask.

“Even the fireweed route is an import, so… It’s not inexpensive. The work on the rest of it will be time-intensive, for sure, but at the end… Um…”

She trails off, but when you press, it is indeed a fairly high figure. Your shirin, thus stretched, would still be quite the luxury product. If it’s meant to be a substitute for ale at TPK, well… It certainly won’t be, not for anyone but the most well-to-do clientele.

What do you do?
>Agree to use the herbs recommended by Qicerys to best retain the shirin’s effects, despite the cost
>Ask for harmless filler materials which might dilute and stretch the shirin for less money, while likely reducing the potency
>Inquire about other medicinal herbs which might have other, complementary effects—maybe you can sell shirin in tandem with something more local, expanding your product offerings?
>Attempt to seduce Qicerys into reduced rates and favourable terms
>Offer Qicerys something else in lieu of full payment [like what? Specify]
>Go elsewhere to find a solution
>Write-in

>>4974990
>Ask for harmless filler materials which might dilute and stretch the shirin for less money, while likely reducing the potency

only reptilians are worthy of pure shirin

>>4974990
>Offer Qicerys something else in lieu of full payment
Tell her that it sounds nice and all, but because of that price we have to check a few places first and think it through before making final decision.
Might be able haggle a bit later.
>Take your Edwin and drugs outside
I was thinking we can come back without big E and use our charm without NTR vibes.

Regardless, I think that we shouldn't be selling some cheap diluted crap, since the goal was to offer a luxury product and boost TPK's prestige, not start a crack den. Cuggi and his partners would probably get pissed off as well if they heard that we decided to downgrade their moon sugar.

>>4974990
>Agree to use the herbs recommended by Qicerys to best retain the shirin’s effects, despite the cost
Keeping it as a luxury product isn’t a problem

>>4975153
>>4975154
>>4975450
[Ah, the old three-way tie. Awaiting a tie-breaker!]

>>4975153
>>4975154
>>4975450
+1 to all three.

Premium shit for the high rollers, deluded shit if the premium shit is too expensive for the Pretty Kitty, and we'll 'negotiate' a price decrease with our half-elf friend when Edwin isn't around to notice our negotiating tactics.

>>4975606
I hope this breaks it, because I think having a variety of products is smart play (shame no one voted for inquiring about other products), and if we don't have to pay full price for the herbs/production cost, then we should 'negotiate' using our best assets.

>>4975781
I guess to clarify, don't agree to use the recommended herbs immediately. In fact, we should imply that we'd like a sample of the suggested shirin-herb combo, to be tested when we come back alone... ;^)

>>4975781
>>4975606
>>4975450
>>4975154
>>4975153
“I might need to think about thiss a little,” you tell Qicerys coyly. “Conssider if anyone elsse might be able to help out with thiss...”

Qicerys stutters slightly, but nods and returns the cask without much fight. You resist the urge to frown—you were sort of hoping she would drop her price, or at least put up more of a fight. Perhaps she’s just no good at haggling—that would explain a lot about your previous interactions. You decide to take pity on her.

“If you can look into those other herbss, though… Maybe we can ssee about a ssort of tiered product offering, sselling a diluted and lesss-exxpenssive option to those who can’t afford the premium form?”

“Huh,” Edwin chimes in, “like the dedicated containers versus the shared storage facilities that Father offers. I think I get it.”

You pat him on the back, giving him a bit of affirmatio for the apparently new-to-him concept of multiple price-points. He’s smart in his sphere, and you appreciate his multilingualism and knowledge of magic and alchemy, but Edwin clearly didn’t inherited Father Fynn’s business sense.

Qicerys, for her part, agrees to explore her options and discuss the matter with you later, though she stresses that without adequate shirin samples she won’t be sure how other plant-derived chemicals might react with the drug. You promise to return to discuss the matter further, one way or another…

And if you can shake off Edwin, perhaps you can use your ‘best assets’ to negotiate the price a little lower without hurting his feelings.

‘Aww, what happened to that threesome idea you were mulling over a few days back?’ Irinnile asks, hope springing eternal.

You don’t reply. You aren’t actually sure if loyal, dutiful Edwin would be into such a thing, and you’re not even sure how to broach the subject. Perhaps it’s best to keep the uninhibited, carnal side of yourself separate from this man you’ve developed a genuine affection for, just as you shield him from the brutality and subterfuge which characterize your truest self?

Well, no need to dwell on such matters now. Business before pleasure and all that. You buy a bottle of lightly flower-scented body oil from a flushing Qicerys, give her a smile and a wink, and depart with Edwin and the shirin.

“So, where else were we ‘shopping this around’ to?” Edwin asks, hefting the heavy cask.
>Nowhere—you were bluffing to try to drive the price down
>Check out the nearby apothecary—it doesn’t hurt to explore your options

>>4975806
For that matter, what’s your plan afterwards?
>Go for a date with Edwin to kill time until your meeting with the dwarves to discuss the excavated materials
>Shake Edwin off and attend to some other matter
>Attend to other matters, and bring Edwin along
[If you choose either the second or third option, please specify if you plan to investigate the Yosefs or visit your accomplices from last night, or something else]

>>4975806
>Nowhere—you were bluffing to try to drive the price down

I'd rather we go with known contacts, and Qicerys is a nice target to bulli. And speaking of targets to bulli...

>>4975808
>Attend to other matters, and bring Edwin along

Bulli Agatha, then how about another date in the Initiate's Village (and maybe find that rube we can use).

>>4975806
>‘Aww, what happened to that threesome idea you were mulling over a few days back?’
I'm down for the idea, but we don't exactly have Edwin in the know for seducing Q. Maybe we can talk him into it?

>Nowhere—you were bluffing to try to drive the price down
>Ask if he could help you "convince" Quicerys to lower the price
If other anons are okay with it.

>>4975808
>Go for a date with Edwin to kill time until your meeting with the dwarves to discuss the excavated materials
Not exactly a date, but we could go visit Kelvyn at work to discuss the details of the job with him. Maybe ask if he knows of any magical dwarven cubes (could imply we've heard stories).
This would actually support the story of is being busy with work that we told to Edwin.

>>4975806
>Check out the nearby apothecary—it doesn’t hurt to explore your options

>Go for a date with Edwin to kill time until your meeting with the dwarves to discuss the excavated materials

>>4975858
>>4976010
>>4976114

“Nowhere in particular,” you say cheerily.

“But—“

You pat Edwin on the back again. “It’ss a haggling atctic. I’m giving Qiceryss time to sstew, and to conssider if they want to lose out on ssomething sso potential lucrative as a contract involving The Pretty Kitty AND the Engelsson Sstorehousse Company.”

Edwin’s brown furrows. “Are you certain that Father will be alright with you associating those two… Enterprises?”

You grin cheekily. “It’ss unavoidable, now that he’ss employing me. Bessidess, it’ss better to beg forgivenesss than to assk permisssion. Bussinesss iss bussinesss.”

Edwin doesn’t press as you hop back into the carriage, and after replacing the cask of shirin beneath your shared bench seating, he climbs in the other side.

“Where to, then?” he asks.

You lean into his body, mulling over your options as the carriage rolls out into the main throughfare. It’s late morning by now, and the traffic is as busy as it ever gets, with other carts and carriages jostling for position, trains of farm animals being taken out to market interrupting the flow, and a dozen varieties of mammalian pedestrian milling about.

“A date might be nice,” you say after a time.

That brightens Edwin’s demeanour considerably.

“Oh! Where were you thinking?”
>Grab something to go from a dwarven gastropub near the Smithing District, and pay Kelvyn Jemkottur a visit at work to discuss the appointment later today
>Visit the Initiate’s Village again, for some magically-cooked meat and a show—and maybe to scout for manipulatable rubes among the student population of the Tower
>Go interrupt Agatha’s work at The Lacewing Boutique and go for a lunch with the two humans to catch up
>Nowhere in particular—you just want to kill time
>Write-in

>>4976205
>Visit the Initiate’s Village again, for some magically-cooked meat and a show—and maybe to scout for manipulatable rubes among the student population of the Tower

you know if any of the students there just happen to be bragging about how much access they have to the tower

>>4976205
>Grab something to go from a dwarven gastropub near the Smithing District, and pay Kelvyn Jemkottur a visit at work to discuss the appointment later today

>Ask Edwin if he could help you "convince" Quicerys to lower the price
Throwing this in once again since it wasn't openly refused.

>>4976205
>Visit the Initiate’s Village again, for some magically-cooked meat and a show—and maybe to scout for manipulatable rubes among the student population of the Tower
>Go interrupt Agatha’s work at The Lacewing Boutique and go for a lunch with the two humans to catch up

Time to visit that fountain! Bulling Agatha is just a bonus.

>>4976219
While I'm not opposed, we'd have to 'prime' Edwin for the idea before we broach it with him, and that's assuming Quicerys would be attracted to a hunk such as Edwin. Just food for thought.

>>4976393
>'prime' him
that's the idea
>hunk
yeah, but the main selling point is between his legs

We have great seduction skills and a succubus capable of turning people into hornballs. Just a food for thought.

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>>4976393
>>4976219
>>4976218
“I could go for one of those lightning-cooked drake sskewers you were telling me about,” you suggest. “And I’ve been thinking about the Endlessss Foutnain ever ssince you mentioned it!”

You hardly need to say another word to get Edwin excited—a date-day, and one focused on his greatest passion (besides you)? The carriage is redirected immediately, and Edwin of Engel is leaning forward in his seat and blathering on charmingly about the wonders you are about to encounter the whole way. It’s oddly charming.

The Initiates’ Village is still captivating when you return to it, with its sweeping, archaic arrangement of old homes and manors winding in every direction like a great hedge-maze. The bustle of aerial broom-traffic and pedestrians loaded with odd and arcane accoutrement has even your head on a swivel, to say nothing of your date’s.

Drake-skewers turn out to be a rather pedestrian affair in terms of flavour—a bit unevenly-cooked, with crispy amphibious skin and a chewy, slightly undercooked centre, guts having been cleanly removed and replaced with a wooden stick. The price is also unreasonably steep, but you suppose it’s more about the show: two young humans with short-brimmed, practical-looking wizard caps summoning and ricocheting lightning between each other through a levitating, rotating metal pike impaling several of the wee winged beasties that provide your repast. Anyway, Edwin hardly seems to notice the expense, and his eyes light up and follow every electrical pulse from behind the smoked spectacles which the food purveyors provide.

“I wonder what one of Rilney’s dragon-worshiping lizardmen would think of something like this?” Edwin asks afterwards, eyeing his roasted drake and speaking through a mouthful of flesh.

You resist the urge to cringe at the mention of Rilney—Yosef’s alias in attempting to market his exposé on your Reptilain race and their dread purpose. You are reminded that his, his daughter, his granddaughter, and perhaps a smattering of other Yosefs yet live, despite your divine duty to eliminate them on behalf of The Dark Gods Beyond and Below. It’s also vaguely troubling that his half-mad, wildly-speculative scrawlings have so stuck with Edwin.

“Well, I ssusspect that they’d hardly care,” you reply casually. “Drakess aren’t actually a dragon relative after all—they’re not even reptiless, right? And if they were… Humanss don’t get upsset about eating pigss and cows.”

Edwin laughs. “I guess you’re right. Just a silly thought.”

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>>4976602

You walk towards the Endless Fountain while you talk, and THAT at least is a true wonder to behold. You were envisioning a single great statue, spouting water upwards without cease as if powered by an unending stream from underground and pumped by mechanisms unseen and supernatural. What you get instead is far grander: a single great column of water, like a waterfall, rising in a great torent ever upwards, as far as the eye can see, until it is beyond the range of sight. Droplets fall down into the pond constructed around it in an isolated rainfall, unending. Benches are arranged between placard-bearing statues of great magical hegemons of the Tower through the ages, and students and visitors sit on them or meander amongst them, many of them holding hands and clearly on dates as well.

“What…” you begin, then you turn to Edwin. “How? How iss thiss not vissible from well outsside of town?!”

Edwin winks and smiles. “You should know this one, Izzy. Illussion, just like what you use!”

You reach out tentatively, but the cool raindrops feel real enough to you as the spot your hand and arm.

“There’s actual water involved as well,” Edwin explains, “but the effect is amplified by the illusion to make the spout look much higher and more dramatic than it really is. The fountain was a gift from Iternagreyn, now the capitol of the Northeastern Elven Magocracy, to the founder of the Hawksong Mages’ Tower to celebrate its construction and opening.”

Well, you can’t say you’re not impressed. Even if it’s mostly a novelty, the amount of magical wherewithal that must have gone into the creation of such a persistent illusion, to last centuries and to create such a dynamic effect, is well beyond anything else you’ve seen!...

But you’re not just here on pleasure. You mentally set Irinnile to listening in on the crowd, with your ears and her sense for emotion. Your hope is to find someone who has a sense of confidence and familiarity with the Tower. Unfortunately, it’s an ephemeral thing to get a sense for based on surface thoughts in this place, and you don’t exactly hear anyone happen to brag about how much access they have to the Tower…

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>>4976603
>54

…But you DO see someone in a striped bluish-grey robe and a small flat cap, which you recognize as the attire of a Tower staffer of lowly, non-magical rank. A janitor or secretary or something, perhaps? It’s a promising lead, and the rather fetching young lady wearing the uniform gives you an idea as well.

“Hey, don’t look now, but there’ss quite the cute little number over there,” you whisper softly into Edwin’s ear, causing him to shiver and, of course, immediately glance over.

“I… Don’t know what you mean, of course,” Edwin lies, blushing slightly and clearly taking this for some sort of test.

“Come now, I know you like a pair of hipss like that,” you tease, checking him lightly with your own.

“I…”

You have a little bit of time before your afternoon appointment. What do you do?
>Take the opportunity to test the waters with Edwin vis a vis threesomes
>Drag Edwin along to go strike up a casual conversation with the Tower staffer
>Go over to speak to the staffer yourself, and let Edwin do what he will
>Let the matter rest—you kind of like Edwin’s full attention being on you
>Write-in

>>4976605
>Take the opportunity to test the waters with Edwin vis a vis threesomes
gotta corrupt him a little

>>4976605
>Go over to speak to the staffer yourself, and let Edwin do what he will
if he doesn't join we can go full infiltrator

>>4976605
>Take the opportunity to test the waters with Edwin vis a vis threesomes

Just hint at it, and Irinnile will tell us the rest.

>Go over to speak to the staffer yourself, and let Edwin do what he will

Be a darling and grab a couple more mana potions, will ya?

Rolled 17, 12, 8, 8, 7, 5, 11 = 68 (7d20)

>>4976741
>>4976636
>>4976616
[4 seduction dice for Edwin at DC 10, 3 politesse dice for the staffer]

>>4976849
“Come on, don't tell me you've never fantassized about ssuch thingss,” you press. “Maybe dreamed of it?”

You're putting your thumb on the scales a little with that one, you know. Irinnile and you saw to that several nights prior, when you capped off your first night of dream-diving with a steamy visit to Edwin's subconscious. The demon's sense for surface emotions tells you that the memory of the dream yet lingers. You may have done all the ‘priming’ you need to.

So it is that you gently pull Edwin along with you when you go to speak to the staffer. However, the young woman seems immediately hesitant to engage.

“Amazing, issn't it?” you say of the towering fountain.

“It is,” she acknowledges, perhaps a little wearily. “Technically, I mean. I sure couldn't do it.”

“Oh! You're alsso a mage, then?”

“I'm sorry, who are you?” she asks, looking your way for the first time, and then at Edwin in his unofficial and distinctly rumpled wizard hat and robe.

“A… Pair of hedge-mages,” you half-lie. “I'd jusst asssumed that you were one of the non-magical ssupport sstaff.”

“A lot of people assume a lot of things,” she says blandly. “You wouldn't be the first. What do you ‘hedge-mages' want?”

What do you do?
>Turn on the glamour and give her a charm offensive
>Attempt non-magical seduction, and make some flirty superficial conversation
>Ask her about her role at the Tower
>Tell her you're looking for a more learned magical scholar to help you appraise some antiques, and invite her along to your next appointment
>This is a disaster and she seems standoffish and of limited use—abandon ship and bid her farewell
>Write-in

>>4976852
>Turn on the glamour and give her a charm offensive
>Ask her about her role at the Tower

Hey, if it fails, we can simply move on.

>>4976852
>Ask her about her role at the Tower

>>4976852
>>Ask her about her role at the Tower

>>4976852
>Turn on the glamour and give her a charm offensive

>>4976852
>Turn on the glamour and give her a charm offensive

>>4976852
We still waiting on a tiebreaker QM?

>>4977777
Damn, quin 7s! Whatever's about to happen must be the will of the Dark Gods, praise be!

>>4977781
Wait, isn't this the seventh thread as well? This is one hell of a sign lads! Praise be to our dark overlords!

Rolled 11, 15, 9, 7, 1 = 43 (5d20)

>>4977777
>>4977495
>>4977360
>>4977347
>>4977214
>>4976884
>Turn on the glamour and give her a charm offensive
[DC 7]

>>4977818
>rolled a 7

The Dark Gods must favor the path we've chosen!

>>4977818
>>4977876
You don't give up so easy as that. You flash a smile, and channel your magic into it until it's you practically glow like a torch with sheer likability.

“Ssorry, I've been inssenssitive, haven't I…”

“Um, Paula,” the Tower staffer says, blinking rapidly and taking you in as if for the first time.

You reach out, and she takes your extended hand. The physical contact pulls the poor full even further into the flame of your charisma, burning away resistance and replacing it with fascination, awe, and maybe a touch of desire. You sense magical wards against influence, like a n invisible helm, but you blow it away like a stray hair.

“Tell uss what it iss you do, Paula. Edwin and I would love to hear all about it.”

>Lowered DC for quints, more than double the DC counts as a critical success

Paula allows you to guide her to a bench, where she sits between you and Edwin, and begins to spill her guts as if you were the easiest people to talk to in world, as if she'd known you for years. How she is a mage herself, but lacked the money, connections, or raw talent to make it into the Tower’s student body. What she does there—cleans, tidies, fetches reagents, disposes of waste. What her specialties are—the manipulation of temperature, climate, air currents—and how she dreams to apply them as some sort of master weather-witch and broom-riding, savant, if she's ever allowed the privilege of a broom.

“Can't ssay I've ever had the privilege mysself,” you chime in, “unlesss you count the broomsstick between Edwin'ss legss.”

“Ismena!” Edwin exclaims, red in the face.

Your magic is strong, though. Your magnetism is so strong a pull that you don't even require the extra force of Irinnile to steer Paula's appetites.

“That… Sounds like a fun ride, too,” she says quietly as you subtly rub her back, redoubling your boyfriend's blush and your own amusement.

More importantly, Paula's eliminated misgivings and mystically-won trust open the way to learning about the private areas of the Tower which she is responsible for cleaning… And how they are protected.

“Sso it'ss not jusst wardss?” you ask.

“Oh no! And not every badge will get you in every section. Mine won't allow me access to the REALLY dangerous stuff, for instance… But some of the laboratories , the storage rooms, most sections of the library…”

You don't push your luck by grilling her, but you do get Paula's address, and she seems eager to meet both you and your date again. When you hint that you'd love to see the Tower after hours some time, she doesn't exactly promise, but she does giggle and blush.

In other words: you have an in.

>>4977893
You are forced to cut the rather productive fun short—you have an appointment, after all. You and Edwin load back up into the carriage, and you can't help but notice that he's a little mote confident for the whole affair, with his chest puffed. You resist the urge to laugh aloud, but it's not an unattractive look if you're being honest.

The carriage makes as straight a line as possible for the storehouse, at your insistence. You arrive in the nick of time: both Helga Warchest and Kelvyn Jemkottur are there, and by the former’s standoffish body language you can tell that their little date isn’t going nearly as well as yours.

You hope down from the carriage and slip casually into place between them, making cursory introductions—though, of course, everyone has at least met each other once by now. It’s the least you can do, since you realize that their uneasy initial meeting might have something to do with your using of Helga as a sort of incentive for Jemkottur to attend. Perhaps you set expectations a little high? Helga is happy to see you, though, and is eager to get down to business. You smile a her predictability.

With both yourself and Edwin, the posted storehouse guards step aside without so much as being asked, giving the four of you free reign to explore the hastily sorted relics like your own private museum. if he seemed a little miffed for Helga’s cold shoulder initially, Kelvyn Jemkottur quickly forgets it in wide-eyed wonder at the plethora of ancient treasures you have spread out before him. Her marvels over the most mundane details, relating without prompting the approximate eras they may date from, regional influences he detects, and tricky nuances of the crafting process which would have necessitated specialty tools. Indeed, he identifies several odd mechanisms which had been utterly incomprehensible to you as components of larger, more complicated devices for mining or shaping stone and metal ore.

“But what of the moving metal men?” you ask, guiding the dwarven mechanist back to the topic you’d rented his expertise for in the first place.

“Moving metal men?” Helga asks, confused.

“Hm, I don’t see anything like that,” he admits. “The statues are all articulated, but that’s typical of any Neo-Nepotist dwarven architecture, from the period in which the corporate leadership established a second wave of hereditary liens of ownership. It was meant to harken back to a creation myth…”

>>4977941
But could they be made to move?” you press.

“Theoretically… With an enchantment, any stone or metal sculpture COULD. Certainly articulation makes it easier, but it’s not the primary purpose for it, and you wouldn’t get all this fine detail work around the beards, or all these sockets where gems were clearly once inset, if these were meant to serve as defenders for a keep.”

Your heart falls. A dead end?

What do you do?
>Ask Helga her opinion on the legendary stone and metal defenders, and her people's variations on the legends—maybe she’s heard something of use?
>Ask about the stone polyhedron with the runes on it, which you read about in other excavations’ manifests
>Ask if the phrase ‘they see without eyes’ means anything to either of them
>Show the dwarves the cube you pocketed from the storehouse earlier, and ask what they think of it
>Abandon this hunch about animated statuary, and ask about other dwarven defences which might involve such things
>Write-in

[Sorry for the delay--a bit of writer's block tonight, and I was back to work all day.]

>>4977944
>Ask about the stone polyhedron with the runes on it, which you read about in other excavations’ manifests
>Ask if the phrase ‘they see without eyes’ means anything to either of them

>>4977944
>Ask about the stone polyhedron with the runes on it, which you read about in other excavations’ manifests
>Ask if the phrase ‘they see without eyes’ means anything to either of them
>Ask about other dwarven defences which might involve such things

Curious. I wonder what else the Tower is using these for then?

https://archived.moe/qst/thread/4918227/#q4937777
>>4977777
First quads, now quints.
This quest is truly based.

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>>4978028
>>4977994
“What of sstone polyhedronss?” you ask.

During your first week in Hawksong, Janus Zika (son of the man whose mercenary company excavated and transported all these materials to begin with) had shown you a sketch of such an artefact, cracked and broken but resembling a great multifaceted die of some sort. You weren’t able to find it when you were searching this storehouse, but it was among the materials once!

“I can’t say I know much about that…” Jemkottur mumbles, brushing finger across his wiry, lopsided blonde beard.

“Were the sides covered in runes?” Helga asks, unexpectedly.

All eyes turn to Helga, who is briefly thrown off her usual confidence by all the attention. She recovers quickly, though.

“There were stories, in the hills where I grew up, about something like what you’re talking about,” she continues. “A round stone, cut flat on about 20 or 30 sides, with a rune on each?”

You nod wordlessly. Yes! It’s just as you can see that sketch in your mind’s eye.

“We told stories about the golems, too—the moving statues and sculptures—but not just those. Those stones were used by great enchanters and rulers to… Sort of move the whole city.”

“Move the whole city?” Edwin asks. “What do you mean?”

“Like… The walls, the buildings. The stones of the roads. The statues, the mining equipment… Anything enchanted to attune to them, anywhere in the city. They could turn the place into a maze, rearrange it, pack up and move deeper into a mountain building by building… All with moving stone or metal men defending it. I remember one story about a young man who was the last survivor of his city, and kept moving what was left of it around, looking for a place to stay with other dwarves and other races…”

You remember the unusual way in which dwarven architecture, even the walls, seemed to slot together in a modular fashion. And articulation made such a spell function more easily, hadn’t Jemkottur said? Maybe that would apply to buildings as well…

“Does the phrasse ‘they ssee without eyess’ mean anything to you?” you ask.

Helga frowns and shakes her head, but here Jemkottur prove useful again.

“Yes, actually! It’s something we engineers have long sought to crack, a puzzle about the old, lost, magical ways of making these metal men. Those that we make must be directed to do specific tasks. If they walk, they must be aimed, and stopped. If this is not done for them, they will stride boldly right into a wall, or off a cliff, without realizing or understanding.”

“Whereas enchanted ‘golemss’ could navigate,” Edwin says, with a small trace of smugness. Magic beats new-fangled technology again, you suppose.

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>>4978460

Kelvyn Jemkottur nods. “An artificial awareness, eve an intelligence to understand what it is they’re looking at, and to know what should be done about certain things based on commands given. That was what the ancients ascribed to their creations.”


Curious… And apparently worrying enough for a Reptilian Infiltrator to warn you about it from beyond the grave.

The three of you explore the storehouse a while longer, looking for such a polyhedron, or anything else that might indicate that Helga’s story is directly related to the ruins at hand… But if there’s anything of the like, you don’t find it. Has the Tower already taken it for their own examination?

It is late afternoon by the time you tire of rummaging through dusty stonework. What do you do?
>Ask the dwarves further questions [such as?]
>Propose a double date with the dwarves
>Head to the library with Edwin, to do further reading
>Split up with the others for now, and go check in on your co-conspirators from last night
>Write-in

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>>4978464
>Ask the dwarves further questions
That cube we found. Make it sound like we have just heard about it, in case it's something important.
>Head to the library with Edwin, to do further reading

Lookin good. Makes me wonder how Ismena would look with her scaly skin.

>>4978464
>Ask the dwarves further questions [Das Cube]
>Propose a double date with the dwarves

I say we continue our business with some late lunch, if that's acceptable. We can fill our minds after we've filled our stomach.

But this is quite interesting, and will require future time investment.

>>4978464
>Head to the library with Edwin, to do further reading

from the last update it seems the double date is already a bust

>>4978563
I'm sure they just got off to a rough start. The real reason is to pick their brains about this new development that has arisen with these dwarven artifacts. I can't imagine we'll get better info from sanctioned book than we would from dwarves knowledgeable in their ancestry and culture.

>>4978563
>>4978508
>>4978495
You mention a cube—not something you've seen in the storehouse yourself (and certainly nothing you pocketed on your last visit here) but another item from a manifest you browsed. It had a lot of interlocking components and (so you say) it was appraised as magical by those who found it. Could that help clarify the purpose of those relics thus far examined and discussed?

“Maybe…” the engineer muses. “Perhaps it's intended as a scale model? A training device or a proof-of-concept?”

“If it's used to train people with the master stone, maybe it would be attuned to it?” the dancer guesses. “It would explain why it would register as enchanted to a mage's eye, right?”

Kelvyn scoffs at Helga's interjection, attracting a glare he hardly notices. You hear him mumble something about amateur speculation, deepening tge emotional divide. You decide against a double date--you're not exactly hungry, anyway, between your breakfast and the drake skewers. Your metabolism is much slower than a full-blooded human, after all.

“And about the matter of payment?” Jemkottur asks.

On this, at least, he and Helga are of one mind. “Right, about that, Kamunu…”

“Payment?” Edwin asks, confused. You never did get his authorization for the fee, and their consultation rate is a bit more than is practical to pay out of even his walking-around money.

What do you do?
>Have Edwin pay an advance, and promise the rest later
>Ask the dwarves to swing by the manor tomorrow for their payment
>Promise to pay them as soon as possible, from your own money
>Turn on the magical charm to persuade them to waive or lower their fee [dwarves are resistant to magic]
>Write-in

After the four of you part company, you stay with Edwin. He, at least, mist grab some food on your way to your next destination: the library. The Royal Hawksong Library may be scrubbed of tye most high-level or controversial topics, but its helpful elven librarian Fesliel is more than capable of finding at least SOME material on virtually any subject, among the floor-to-ceiling walls of literature and records.

What do you seek?
>Books on the attunement of items to one another
>Books on dwarven fables
>Books on wars between men and dwarves
>Books on the history of the Tower
>Books in Dwarven script—maybe Irinnile or the Akashic Record can help you translate?
>Write-in

>>4978867
>Ask the dwarves to swing by the manor tomorrow for their payment

>Books on the attunement of items to one another

>>4978867
>Ask the dwarves to swing by the manor tomorrow for their payment

We can give them an advance now if they want it, but definitely swing by the mansion for payment. Maybe a good night's rest will come up with some inspiration.

>Books in Dwarven script—maybe Irinnile or the Akashic Record can help you translate?

Edwin can read about attunement and get a kick out of it, so why not read the original dwarven script?

>>4978867
>Ask the dwarves to swing by the manor tomorrow for their payment
I agree with >>4978877 pay them a bit now and tell to hit the manor tomorrow. Just make sure they don't come at the wrong time, since Fynn doesn't know about this either iirc.
>Books on the attunement of items to one another
Might as well try to piece these puzzles together now.
>Books in Dwarven script—maybe Irinnile or the Akashic Record can help you translate?
But only if we have spare time and can avoid Edwin looking. This would be hard to explain.

Rolled 13, 18, 14 = 45 (3d20)

>>4979161
>>4978877
>>4978869

>>4979275
Edwin, with his knack for magical study (if not so much the actual practice and performance of the arcane) is set to work research attunement. Perhaps if you can learn more about the way in which two enchanted items might be linked together by unseen strings, you can unravel this mystery in its entirety?

While he is busied with that, you approach the somewhat snobbish—but nevertheless helpful—elf at the front desk. Royal Librarian Fesliel seems surprised at your request for Dwarven-language books, but she obliges you, bringing you to a small collection in a dusty and somewhat dim area of the library, blocked from the wide windows by its inconvenient and inauspicious location.

“I admit I’ve never had so much interest in the dwarven language as to learn it,” Fesliel says, rather diplomatically, “but our organizational records seem to suggest that these tomes are primarily focused on history, genealogy, military matters… And, of course, matters of geology and related secondary craft.”

You thank her, and as soon as she departs, you set to work.

‘Irinnile, can you read any of these?’

‘Sorry babe, dwarf ain’t in my lexicon,’ the succubus replies.

You sigh. No matter. You know of at least one past operative—the one who issued you the enigmatic warning, who seemed to have some familiarity with dwarvenkind. You need only reach out to their shade again. You shut your eyes, summon the aethereal ledger of past missions and missteps which is the Akashic Record of the Dark Gods, and focus upon the impression that oeprative’s faded memory left wit you the morning prior.

>18

It comes easier than it did before, with a point to focus on, and before long a powerful-looking Steeltalon has materialized before you. Automatically, you look this way and that to ensure there are no witnesses… But of course only you can see this apparition.

‘He’s kinda’ hot,’ Irinnile says. ‘Shame about the limited libido on those guys, huh? Well ,and that he probably died a billion years ago or whatever, I guess.’

…Well, only you and Irinnile. The three of you—infiltrator, demon, and summoned memory—work together. The titles across the spines of ancient tomes and on the caps of rarely-dusted scroll-cases become as your own tongue to you, and before long you are able to narrow your selection down to a few relevant works: “The Legendary Techniques of the Ancestors”, “Enchantments and Magicks: Profit Potential and Risk”, and “Unconventional Defences Against Barbarian Races”. Not wanting to waste the ephemeral connection to your Akashic guide, you skim through each, seeking anything—ANYTHING—about stones which could control cities or the statues within them.

>>4979297
What you find seems to corroborate Helga’s speculations. Even in these collected works, none of the mentions are contemporaneous or terribly instructive, but each of the three old volumes mentions at least in passing a ‘stone of will-to-earth’ which can be attuned to any well-hewn item and that, with training and practice, was able to enable the ancestors to muster great defences against hordes of orcs, men, and other marauders with small garrisons, as well as to continue and improve the profitability of operations after suffering great losses.

You sense the remembered unease of lost battle in the operative whose memory you have summoned. You focus upon him, bringing his waning shadow back into a greater realness, and you send the psychic missive: Why? What happened to make him so afraid this knowledge?

>They see without eyes

“Yes, but what does it mean?” you find yourself hissing aloud, in your own tongue.

The reply fills you with a primal dread, such that you lose the connection almost immediately. When Edwin comes to find you, you are still considering the terrible implications, and even as he excitedly rattles off his own discoveries—about how even a magical novice, with proper materials and time, can conjoin the magic of a sufficiently-potent enchanted item to a new one through proximity, a keyword, and the proper use of dwarven-deirved ‘runic’ magic—you are scarcely able to focus. It’s indeed useful, exciting information, but it can hardly rival the revelation you have uncovered.

They see without eyes. Without eyes, without senses that can be fooled easily by illusion, or by superficial shapeshifting, they see. A golem, or other enchanted construct, instructed to seek out and to slay demons will find them… Even hidden in plain sight, even bound within an occultist…

And such a construct, instructed to seek out a Reptilian infiltrator, will unfailing identify such beings, no matter their disguise.

>>4979299
The research takes up much of the remaining afternoon, and the sunlight outside begins to dim and to shift to orange and red. Edwin suggests that he could drive you work—well, have his carriage-driver do so.

“…And then I could return home and discuss what we have found so far with Father! We’ve learned a lot about the actual value of these dwarven materials which the Zikas are storing with us, right? It should be useful for negotiating with the Tower for a better rate for both companies, given how rare and powerful the magic involved is! IT’s only a shame we couldn’t find one of those cubes or ‘master stones’ you, Kelvyn, and Helga were talking about…”

Right—your cover story for this whole escapade. It gives a handy excuse for why the dwarves would need, and deserve, further payment tomorrow than the advance you provided earlier… But it would also tip your hand to Fynn about examining the stored items without his permission or participation, and hiring consultants under him name and with his funds. Worse yet: it could reveal your investigations, and the results thereof, to the Tower!

What do you do?
>Ask Edwin to keep this between you two for now, until you have something more substantial
>Tell Edwin to go ahead, and that you’d like to arrange a meeting with Fynn tomorrow to discuss the matter further
>Explain to Edwin that you haven’t actually gotten permission for any of this, and that you want to tell Fynn about this yourself
>Attempt to use your magic to purge the memories of anything untoward from Edwin’s pretty little head
>Skip work at The Pretty Kitty to get ahead of this, and meet with Fynn now
>Write-in

>>4979302
>Ask Edwin to keep this between you two for now, until you have something more substantial

How do we deal with Fynn lads?

>>4979302
>Explain to Edwin that you haven’t actually gotten permission for any of this, and that you want to tell Fynn about this yourself
Ask him to cover paying the dwarves tomorrow, without letting Fynn know. I'm sure he won't mind if we motivate him a little and say we were just testing the waters.

So, in layman terms, how can those golems be brought back to function by the Tower? We gotta know what to avoid.

>The Steeltalon, who may hide behind the size and shape of a regular humanoid man or woman, but who are coiled with serpentine muscle and may expand and grow into a behemoth when their masquerade is broken [Bonus to physical ability, intimidation]
Interesting, thanks for the reminder. Can we ask Irinnile to alter and reinforce our muscle tissue to resemble that of a Steeltalon? Her demonic interventions aren't exactly discrete, so having that extra physical edge wouldn't hurt.

>>4979337
We don't pay large sums of money to people we hire without his or Edwin's knowledge and make sure nobody is inspecting the warehouses while we're there.

>>4979302
Backing >>4979341
also if we figure out what sense these golems do use to see we can illusion that sense badda bing badda boom.

[Sorry, but expect a late post tonight--running a campaign!]

>>4979351
>>4979341
>>4979337
“About that…”

Edwin's enthusiasm dims a little as you explain that, technically, you neither sought permission for the appraisal nor the fee.

“Izzy, I… I can't pay that out-of-pocket. Not in one day. My money comes from Father as well, and that's a LOT more than he normally provides me in a week.”

“Well ssurely I can provide ssome ‘motivation' to requesst a little more?” you suggest hopefully, tracing a hand down his chest.

“It's not a matter of motivation,” he replies miserably. “Father already thinks I'm a spendthrift who wastes time and money on… On frivolity, on silliness. He'll demand to know where the money is going.”

You frown, considering your options.

“I won't tell Father, but we need to come clean or find another way to pay them. Maybe… Maybe if you could get them to accept installments?”

The carriage ride to work is a little awkward. Edwin is clearly twisting in his seat with nervousness over how Fynn of Engel will react when two dwarves turn up demanding payment. Still, he embraces you and wishes you well when you step out of the carriage with your things. He’s not mad at you—just afraid to bear the consequences of your actions.

As you enter The Pretty Kitty, you divert your thoughts to more important matters. You have nearly a full day to solve the quandary of the dwarves, after all, and it dwindles in importance next to the matter of the golems. From what you understand, is the Tower has—or can piece out how to recreate—a functional runic master-stone, they could then readily attune it to nearly any statue or earthenware idol to create a golem capable of magically sensing and identifying even a mystically-disguised or hidden target. It would be an utter disaster for your mission, for your whole RACE! Even if the humans of Hawksong wouldn’t know to aim them at Reptilian infiltrators right away, as soon as ONE of you was discovered an army of artificial sentinels would bear down upon you all with unerring accuracy.

‘Irinnile, is there any chance you could… Physically augment me? Make me like the Steeltalon we saw in the vision?’

‘Eeehh… Maybe. That level of bulk and might is a little outside my usual repertoire. I can mainly make you look however you want, but as far as abilities… I can kinda’ only give you ones I’ve got, ya’ know?’

‘I see.’

>>4980056
You accidentally lock eyes with Helga, who grins and winks. She’s clearly grateful for having been hooked up with an opportunity to earn some good coin for much less work than usual… But will she be so happy come tomorrow? Between this remind of your debt to her and the stress of your recent discovery, you feel little of the usual peace changing into your Kamunu attire and persona usually bring. You’re off your game!

What do you do?
>Take a few deep breaths and meditate
>Power through it—you have a job to do
>Go speak to Mina, and get some clarity through conversation
>Request a sick night—you have to focus on your real mission right now!
>Write-in

>>4980057
>Take a few deep breaths and meditate

No need to panic, for those who panic die.

Radical solution- we steal the gold that we'll pay them. Hell, this may be a good opportunity to check in on those thralls of ours as well. That adventurers equipment ain't cheap, and the way they were acting like thugs in front of the Royal Library? My bet is they're rich brats, which would explain a lot about their combat performance.

>>4979869
Also, how did the campaign go btw?