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File: A Date with A Devil.png (1.13 MB, 883x927)
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It’s nighttime, outside the great multicultural metropolis of Hawksong. Earlier tonight, the city’s auspicious Mages’ Tower held their annual fundraising gala for the city’s elites, only to find it interrupted by the explosion of the quarter’s famed Endless Fountain. Confusion reined, festivities were drawn to a halt, and a confused crowd of local bourgeoisie were herded outside. In the confusion, nobody seemed to notice—at least, not right away—that one of the Gala’s guests and several of its staff had slipped away.

You are a Reptilian Infiltrator, the half-human agent of an ancient and scaley master race. Having attended the Tower Gala in the guise of Ismena Rosgard, exotic-dancer-turned-businesswoman and plus-one of a respected merchant’s son, you actually orchestrated the attack on the city’s beloved monument as a cover to slip underground and into the Tower’s lower levels. In the process of this grand infiltration—the culmination of months of planning and effort!—you…

>Seduced, drugged, and sinuated an incubus’ ectoplasmic influence into the second-born son of Hawksong’s Paladin King
>Stole a magic dagger and a cute chimera from the Gala’s presenters
>Slew or brainwashed a not-insubstantial number of the Tower’s upper echelon, including a Magus Auctor, a Reliquarian, the Head Demonologist, and the Head Chimericist
>Liberated and recruited a host of imprisoned demons, as well as some powerful chimeras
>Discovered the long-lost remains of the Great Green Dragon, champion of your Reptilian gods, and released his mutated offspring from cruel bondage

…and perhaps most important of all…

>Acquired the dwarven master stone which was the lynchpin of Hawksong’s planned city defence program!

As that program involved unfailingly unflappable golems capable of identifying and countering your people’s magic and shapeshifting with unerring accuracy, preventing the institution of these stony sentries is a major coup—your great and shining success as an agent of The Grand Design of the Dark Gods and their Serpent Priests.

It was an exhaustion ordeal—you lost an ally, and nearly died twice! Still, as you exit the cavern system connected to the mages’ hidden magical-waste disposal area and breathe the sweet midnight air of glorious freedom, you finally, FINALLY feel a measure of worthiness to your mother’s glorious and ancient race!
>>
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>>5125865
LEVEL UP!

You have become better still at politesse, melee combat, and have gained an understanding of (and aptitude for) warding magic.

When facing a matter where success is not guaranteed or terribly likely, failure has notable consequences, or I’d feel railroady making you fail or cheap forcing a success, I will roll dice: one d20 for each star next to that aptitude. If a couple apply, you will get a bonus d20 as well.

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 formed a symbiotic pact with the succubus Irinnile, you can also shapeshift (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.

In general, 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.
>>
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>>5125869
Your demonic powers are not without a price: Irinnile has a powerful sense of <WANT> at her core. 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. Thanks to your soulbond, this isn't as risky as it once was... But could still result in complications. Your current level of <WANT> is DC 18.

Irinnile isn’t the only entity to whom you are bonded. Your deep affection for the human Edwin of Engel serves as powerful motivation. When working together, or striving to survive for his sake, the DC of rolls is decreased by 2! However, he does not know of your true nature as a subversive agent of society’s destruction… And there are risks inherent in a spy falling for her mark.

You have also gained a one-time invocation of your Dark Gods’ <DIVINE FAVOUR>, and access to their <AKASHIC RECORD> of their mortal agents’ past activities; the DC to access it varies depending upon how long ago the event took place, how far away it occurred, and whether you have a relevant focus.

You have acquired a number of items in your inventory, though you may not always have access to all of them: a protective magical cloak which guards against heat and cold, a magical diadem granting clarity and control when your perceptions are affected by outside sources, a hidden charm which suppresses your succubus partner’s demonic aura inside you, an enchanted dagger both frosty and fierce, a coin which can buy the safe transit of your soul… And, of course, the burning heart of a long-dead dragon and a rune-covered dodecahedral dwarven master stone

(Plus a bunch of other stuff, stowed at Edwin’s home or left in your bag back at the Gala out of expediency)
>>
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>>5125872
“What now?” asks Alhazred, after you have both taken the time to catch your breath and savour to sweetness and safety.

You look to your fellow Degenerate Reptilian Infiltrator, and the feathered chimera-drake (named after your dead human father) Hirschel which sits perched upon his shoulder... And briefly note the weird canine chimera with tentacles sprouting from its back, which you have enthralled and brought with you but which you have not yet bothered to name. You two, and these animal companions, stand illuminated by moonlight and starlight, near a rocky bay just outside the limits of Hawksong.

Beneath the ground, in the caves you have just wormed your way out of, lurk a brainwashed owlbear and a massive, malformed Dragonborn spawned from the twisted science of man and the remains of the Great Green Dragon of old. They are too big to exit as you did, though you suspect they could smash their way free… But to what end? Where will they go?

Elsewhere, hidden in the city or evading Tower Inquisitors, a collection of powerful demons await your return, to lead them to the incubus-the so-called “greater demon”—under whose symbol and auspice you freed them and recruited their aid. You’re not sure how you feel about turning such infernal powers over to a being whose goals have, quite often, been at cross-purposes to yours and your masters’.

And, of course, Head Chimercist Henzler—a most dangerous and highly-placed mage—remains only TEMPORARILY in your thrall. You must meet with her, and ideally with your other Tower thralls, you reassert your psychic dominance over them. You can call upon them at your discretion, but you can’t put it off TOO long, lest one or more of them awaken from the waking dream to which you have consigned them. If they were to realize with clear minds who you are and what you have done, and had the free will to act against you… Disaster.

(You also promised the Dark Gods that you would end your human father’s bloodline for past sins against your people and their Great Green champion, and you left all your swag and your beloved boytoy back in town, so there’s also those matters to attend to.)

“What now?” is, indeed, a good question.

What do you do?
>Have Alhazred escort the Dragonborn, and take the valuable relics, back to the Serpent Priests in their subterranean complex—you must return to Hawksong and attend to urgent matter,s professional and/or personal
>You will personally deliver your spoils and reap the glory—you are going to free the Dragonborn from the caves and personally escort him to your people’s cave complex a few miles outside Hawksong
>You can neither leave the others to their own devices nor risk their exposure, but you have one or two matters you must handle before your party departs—you will hide the Dragonborn and your cache of relics and then make a brief stop off in Hawksong before traveling with them to the caves
>Write-in
>>
>>5125875
>You can neither leave the others to their own devices nor risk their exposure, but you have one or two matters you must handle before your party departs—you will hide the Dragonborn and your cache of relics and then make a brief stop off in Hawksong before traveling with them to the caves
>Replenish some mana with Alhazred, but don't drain him too much.

Learning that ectoplasm trick, reinforcing the enthrallment, and getting our swag back from the Tower. After the immediate shit is taken care of, we'll witness the shock on the Serpent Priests' faces when we deliver the Dragonborn to them personally.

Firstly, take a bit of Alhazred's mana. I'm sure our wings will make quick work of our initial travel.
>>
>>5125875
>>5125890
Unless Edwin took our bag that we left at the Gala with him, which would be a reasonable assumption. I'm not so much worried with Edwin having our bag as much as leaving it at the Tower for us to pick up later. I do think learning the ectoplasm trick and reinforcing the enthrallment should be our top priority before we run off to complete our mission.
>>
>>5125875
>You can neither leave the others to their own devices nor risk their exposure, but you have one or two matters you must handle before your party departs—you will hide the Dragonborn and your cache of relics and then make a brief stop off in Hawksong before traveling with them to the caves
We need the time to meet Incubus, learn ectoplasm trick and poison Felman and Henzler. Do that ASAP, then let Roth know about Dragonborn, find Alhazred (he is a part of this too) and travel back to subterranean complex with them.
>Go back to Engel Manor and let Irinnile fuck the magic out of Edwin
A walk should be a breeze after what we've just went through.
>>
>>5125908
Before I pass out myself, you do know the point of the ectoplasm trick was to avoid poisoning our enthralled Tower agents, especially the two most useful ones, right? Point of it was to have a bit of Irinnile in them to influence, monitor, and become a kill-switch if needed for our more secrecy-sensitive thralls. Besides, I didn't risk us getting mauled by Henzler just get her killed without even utilizing her fleshsculpting abilites to fix the Dragonborn, and that's not including the knowledge of how to build a similar mind-controlling collar that was keeping the Dragonborn enthralled and docile.
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>>5125949
I meant poisoning their MINDS, by injecting ectoplasm.
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>>5125960
Oof, my bad. I guess my sleep-deprived brain got the better of me this time. We good.

Gonna pass out now.
>>
>>5125875
>Have Alhazred escort the Dragonborn, and take the valuable relics, back to the Serpent Priests in their subterranean complex—you must return to Hawksong and attend to urgent matter,s professional and/or personal

All that stuff is gonna take a while. I don't think the dragonborn is gonna just wait around for that long. We can enthrall Al to give us all the credit in his report.
>>
>>5125986
I would rather tell Roth to instruct some degenerates to bring him food, we will need just a couple days max to resolve the ectoplasming.
>>
>>5126017
I'm not sure making the dragonborn and another operative wait around for days just so we can take care of personal business will be a good look for us, but ok.
>>
>>5125875
>>You will personally deliver your spoils and reap the glory—you are going to free the Dragonborn from the caves and personally escort him to your people’s cave complex a few miles outside Hawksong
>>
>>5126023
>Making sure that Tower's head Chimerist and Inquisitor we enthralled who know our real identity, goals, crimes and heritage don't break free to tell their higher-ups everything about us and the Reptilian efforts to infiltrate human capitol
>PERSONAL BUSINESS
>>
>>5126099
Oh, is that the only thing we'll be doing? First thing mentioned in votes was learning the ectoplasm trick from the incubus.

Even if securing Henzler and company is all we do, we're still making a fellow infiltrator and the progeny of the green dragon waste time in hiding for days just so we can be there ourselves for the glory. If Alhazred asked the same of us, would you do it? Just throw a couple days away while he went off and did whatever?

I'm sure it'll work out anyway or RQM wouldn't have given it as an option, but it just seems so awful to me.
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>>5126125
>We learn how to make Irinnile's ectoplasm
>We meet Felman and Henzler
>We spit it in their mouths like we did with the prince
That's all we need to do.
And in fairness, I'm not 100% against your vote, was just emphasizing that it is not personal business. I just hope we can get it done tomorrow and depart the next day. Breakneck speed cause both cases are urgent.
But yeah, personally I don't trust Alhazred to keep our budget dragon and owlbear under control just by himself. He doesn't have the skill and magic that Ismena has, hell - he isn't even immune to fire. Think about all the things that could go wrong when dragonborn roams the world and sees random travelers for the first time, given his temperament and how autistic he is.

>I'm sure it'll work out anyway or RQM wouldn't have given it as an option, but it just seems so awful to me.
He also gave an option to rob and mug our first client in the brothel which one shitter actually made Ismena do and to throw the dagger at crow that was our only lead to incubus RIGHT after we made a pact of nonviolence with said incubus.
>>
>>5126125
>I'm sure it'll work out anyway or RQM wouldn't have given it as an option, but it just seems so awful to me.

>>5126150 has a point, QM is a bit of a shitter sometimes. :P

[But seriously: I don't guarantee any option presented is strategically optimal or without complication, ever]
>>
>>5126339
Yeah, QM just listens to retards like myself when they say they crave to dagger the crow to annoy foxanon.
>>
>>5126125
Honestly? I ain't aiming to wait for days, I'm aiming to try and learn this trick in an hour, then gather the mages when it's time for them to be off-duty from the Gala that they must be exhausted from. I doubt that this'll take to morning, let alone more than a day.

And I honestly just wanna see the Serpent Priests' faces personally after introducing them to the surprise that is the Dragonborn.

>>5126150
Again, I doubt that this'll take up the night, let alone the day. It's not like we just fucking around with our other mission objectives yet.

>>5126339
>implying these options are strategically optimized

I'm honestly voting for what I'd like to see, which is our thralls staying enthralled and seeing our superior's shock at bagging Big Boy here. The other shit can wait.

>>5126426
>the taste of foxanon's tears of impotent rage when other anons vote like the Dragonborn just to annoy the piss outta him

What could be sweeter?
>>
>>5126515
>What could be sweeter?
Seeing fox anon's love for Edwin blossom!
>>
>>5126518
Awww, that would be super sweet!
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>>5126515
>gather the mages when it's time for them to be off-duty from the Gala that they must be exhausted from.

This is the part that I seriously doubt. After the mess we just caused the tower's gonna be busy cleaning up, the inquisition is gonna be busy investigating, I don't think it will be easy meeting up with all 4 discreetly. Henzler in particular is probably gonna catch a ton of shit as head chimericist, she'll be responsible for her part plus probably a portion of the demonologists part since we offed him.
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>>5125890
>>5125908
>>5125986
>>5126038
The idea of leaving your carefully-amassed pile of loot behind fills you with an almost draconic discomfort. Moreover, you feel a trained Infiltrator’s discomfort at leaving so many loose ends unattended, and so much to chance. You suppose you could send Alhazred ahead…

But then, what if he got the credit?

You could ensorcel him with mentalism, make of him just another thrall… But you get the feeling inflicting such a fate on a fellow Reptilian agent might be frowned upon, not least by Alahzred himself once freed. Besides…

‘Besides,’ Irinnile chimes in from her den deep within your inner self, ‘we’re WIPED.’

She isn’t wrong, you must admit. You are physical, mentally, and most fo all MAGICALLY exhausted.

<WANT: 18>

And you’re hungry. Or, more accurately… Well, horny with your soul-bonded succubus’ need to ‘feed’. Alhazred is looking mighty appetizing… But then, he also seems distinctly professional. Then again, Roth is practically your supervising agent, and, well…

‘Double dragon dick was niiiice,’ Irinnile drools. ‘Hey, you don’t suppose Big Boy Dragonborn down there…’

You shut down THAT line of thought immediately. Besides… There’s always Edwin. A small part of wonders where he is, how he is doing. This whole circumstances must have been… Startling, for an innocent like him, who merely wished to enjoy a night of dancing, dining, magic and martinis.

You have more pressing matters than Edwin’s emotional state, though. If you are going to
>hide the Dragonborn and your cache of relics and then make a brief stop off in Hawksong before traveling with them to the caves
Then you’re going to need to sort out some things.
>>
>>5126870

Where will you hide the Dragonborn and your relics?
>The cave system seems fine—what are the chances of any mages venturing that deep into the extended cave system, when they usually seem to just dump their waste into the underground river network?
>Sneak them over to Goblintown—your half-orc identity, Zithra, has contact there who can probably hide them, for a fee or a favour
>Call upon the Incubus you recently aided to find them somewhere to hide, using its own criminal network
>Use an Engelson Company storehouse—they’re big enough to fit him, you have access at will, and some aren’t terribly frequented day-to-day
>Write-in

What do you plan to attend to in Hawksong? Each option selected could take a few hours—longer if things don’t go according to plan.
>Gathering your mage-thralls to re-establish and reinforce your psychic control
>Locate your bag and other valuables, and gather them for your journey
>Lead the demons to the Incubus and learn the ectoplasmic parasite trick that greater demon knows, as per your agreement
>Report back to Roth and Dame Albacete on your successes
>Pay Edwin a visit, to reassure him and/or yourself, and perhaps to sate some <WANT>

Do you attempt to seduce Alhazred before you leave?
>Yes
>No
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>>5126873
>Call upon the Incubus you recently aided to find them somewhere to hide, using its own criminal network
I wouldn't have minded Goblintown, but I figured this will cut down on the time cost somewhat. If you lads don't want to utilize the Incubus' network, I don't mind dicking down Zi and having her help out.

Top priority
>Gathering your mage-thralls to re-establish and reinforce your psychic control
Would the Serpent Priest's staff help in this endeavor?
>Locate your bag and other valuables, and gather them for your journey
Mainly just getting the bag out of the Gala baggage holding.
>Learn the ectoplasmic parasite trick that greater demon knows, as per your agreement
We can guide the demons to the incubus later (though I would prefer to utilize them ourselves), but if we choose to use the Incubus' network, it shouldn't be too much of a time drain.

If possible (i.e., if we can make the time for it)
>Pay Edwin a visit, to reassure him and/or yourself, and perhaps to sate some <WANT>
Mainly because leaving unannounced after the Gala may worry him, and a quickie would help out WANT, though if needed we can forego this part if we run outta time.

>Yes
Only a quickie, and only because we need that mana to keep us energized.

Wouldn't be everyday that you get dicked by the Green Dragon's progeny, but that's probably best mused upon when we aren't so under the gun timewise.
>>
>>5126873
>Use an Engelson Company storehouse—they’re big enough to fit him, you have access at will, and some aren’t terribly frequented day-to-day

We can mark it as closed for a bit even

>Gathering your mage-thralls to re-establish and reinforce your psychic control
>Pay Edwin a visit, to reassure him and/or yourself, and perhaps to sate some <WANT>
>No
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>>5126873
>Call upon the Incubus you recently aided to find them somewhere to hide, using its own criminal network
Pocket dimensions go brrr. Maybe. Probably not.
>Gathering your mage-thralls to re-establish and reinforce your psychic control
Precaution and checkup. Then get them a next appointment...
>Lead the demons to the Incubus and learn the ectoplasmic parasite trick that greater demon knows, as per your agreement
For when we do this.
>Yes
Tell Alhazred we need this for energy refuel so we can tie the loose ends. Maybe he'll be eager to help the cause, who knows.
>Instruct him to report to Roth and wait for our signal when we're done with Henzler business and can free the Dragonborn
I'm sure he himself knows it would be suicidal if he went alone

>>5127029
>dicked by the Green Dragon's progeny
I imagine it would be more like fucking a retarded son of Arnold Schwarzenegger because you really loved Terminator
>I don't mind dicking down Zi
I don't mind Irinnile dicking down anybody, tbqh.
>Trying to get to edwin now
Anon please focus on the burning issues at hand first, then you can go fuck Edwin.
>>
Rolled 15, 13, 5, 10 = 43 (4d20)

>>5127029
>>5127045
>>5127527

You think on it for a time, fidgeting slightly at the twinges Irinnile’s hunger-convulsions send through your abdomen and lower body. Eventually, however, you devise a plan of action.

“I have a contact in the humans’ city,” you begin your explanation to Alhazred. “An incubus, the one whose symbol of authority gave us a key advantage on the third floor of the Tower, the demonological research area. The Incubus will send someone to collect and protect the Great One and our treasures.”

“Mm,” vocalizes the male Degenerate. He doesn’t nod, and you sense skepticism. Even from an iconoclast with less-than-proper deference to the Serpent Priests, you sense hesitation about trust irreligious supernatural entities, such as demons, beyond what is necessary. Still, he doesn’t object.

“I have a pact with it,” you reassure him. “The contact known as ‘Roth’ knows. It cannot lie to or deceive me, nor reveal our conspiracy. It has also agreed to teach me a means of still greater control over those who I enthralled, so I may dominate them with greater efficacy, for longer. Si we may spy upon them, even execute them from afar if they become a liability.”

Alhazred nods slowly, then smiles ever so slightly, those dark eyes sparkling slightly with mirth at you having such powers at your beck and call. “Most impressive, Infiltrator.”

Damnit all, your loins are ON FIRE, and this oddly-handsome devil of a Degenerate isn’t helping any. You tamp Irinnile down, but she is practically foaming at the proverbial mouth. You had planned to pay a visit to Edwin to ‘deal’ with this desire… But you’re not so sure you can wait.
>>
>>5127742

“You will report to our fellow Infiltrators and our contacts, and await my instructions,” you tell Alhazred. “I will regroup with you upon a signal, or come to find you at the Albacete home if possible.”

“Understood,” Alhazred says.

You lick your lips, wetting them slightly.

“There is one more thing,” you say, and Alhazred raises an eyebrow. “I am running low on mystic energy, to feed the demon within me now…”

>15

“…And I think you can help.”

Alhazred looks nervous for a moment—like he expects to suffer agonizing pain, even to die, if you get your clutches on him. He takes a step back as you advance.

“Please elaborate,” you requests.

“I prefer to show, rather than to tell,” you say with a sly smile, outpacing him and placing a hand a hand gently upon his chest, and another under his chin.

“I do not—Mmf!”

You cut off his objection with a long, lingering kiss. Alhazred’s body language is stiff, uncertain. His hands—strong hands, skilled hands, you’ve seen them in action!—hover above your side, not quite touching you. However, he doesn’t resist as your hands roam his body, lifting and removing clothes to reveal tanned, toned flesh… And more. Heavy green-grey scaling covers his chest in place of a male human’s chest hair, and runs down to his pubis.

He really is like you.

You kiss and lick your way down that strange, hybrid abdomen, savoring the sense of intimacy. One like you! You are trained to feel shame and revulsion, but now, you can only feel camaraderie… Well, and arousal. Despite his misgivings, your ministrations seem to elicit no shortage of the latter emotion in Alhazred as well, by the way his robes tent, by his heavy breathing. You free him from those robes, and yourself from your own.

Beneath starlight and moonlight, hands roaming his uneven patches of scale and skin as you do so, you take him amongst the grass and the rocks of the cliffs.

<WANT: 17>

‘Aww, come on, just a little bit more!’ Irinnile whines. ‘That was barely a quickie! He’ll last longer next round.’

As you don your golden dress and your blue cloak atop it, Alhazred watches. He is half-sitting, quiet, his expression confused but mollified by pleasure… And by his drained energy reserves.

‘Round two would leave him unconscious, or worse,’ you tell Irinnile. ‘We will visit Edwin soon.’

‘Eddie-boy, huh? Well, I guess that’s not SO bad then…’

Without further ado or a backward glance, you manifest Irinnile’s wings—thank the Dark Gods for open-back dresses!—and take to the night sky. Destination: Hawksong.
>>
>>5127758

More specifically, you soon find yourself at your first stop: Inquisitor Felman’s small, humble abode. The stern-eyed, serious man is not home, alas… But perhaps that is to be expected, with the chaos you have plunged Hawksong into. You could go seek him out… But that might mean returning to the scene of the crime, such as it is, and so soon after your daring escape! The investigation will be in full swing—Henzler and the Magus Auctor your ensorcelled willlikely be there, too, as witnesses or in the investigation proper. So, too, the Tower Guardian you had dominated the night before…

‘Hey, whatever happened to that kid whose pet spider-monkey we stole?’ Irinnile asks.

Your eyes widen. The young male assistant who you brainwashed, impersonated, and briefly utilized the chimera of as a minion… Mayhew! Hr had been found out, and mages dispatched to see who had been controlling his actions… But you slee those investigating. He is an assistant of Henzler, so you can only hope nobody who is not ALSO enthralled knows of his own compromised status. One more mage to gather to you, either way.

What do you do?
>Shapeshift yourself and stealthily slip a message to one of your thralls at the Tower investigation to gather the others
>Wait here for Felman to return, so you can instruct him to gather the others
>You have no time to waste—head to the Incubus for now, and gather these minions later, once you have mastered the ‘ectoplasm trick’
>There’s no reason you can’t pay Edwin that visit while you wait…
>Write-in
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>>5127775
>Shapeshift yourself and stealthily slip a message to Felman at the Tower investigation, to stealthily bring the mages we enthralled on the outside.
With exception of Hezler, for now. Less heat.
>(If possible) Remove the death switch from him to ease his mental strain.
It wouldn't work now anyway, so just do it and asap.
And when the three have returned and met us in an inconspicuous spot, free of prying eyes:
>Remind Felman of our meeting at his house later, make sure he remembers to bring Hezler. Ask him to leave the mages to us.
We can even say we're sorry for mistreating him in the past if it will help to make him cooperate.
>Brutally fuck both mages to death in an alleyway and be done with it.
Let Irinnile have some fun. Leaving demonic traces shouldn't be a problem after what happened in the Tower tonight and with the demonology "experts" gone.

This should about do it and sate Irinnile for a bit.

I fucking knew leaving those fucks would come back to bite us in the ass, but everyone just wanted to leave and leave and leave and leave, so I didn't even try to deal with them directly and instead kept voting to let demons loose so they'd wipe floors 3-5. If they did that at least Mayhew would now be a distant dream to us and fuel to some spawn from hell.
>>
>>5127775
>You have no time to waste—head to the Incubus for now, and gather these minions later, once you have mastered the ‘ectoplasm trick’

Don't have the time to be fucking around.

>>5127836
>wanting to guro two highly ranked mages right outside the Tower while leaving the most dangerous one unattended

Yea, I'd rather we just deal with the incubus first than attempt this piece of time wasting autism.

Don't really know what got you tweaking here lad, but trying to create guro porn with our permanent thralls (all 19/20 mentalism rolled) over some paranoid sperging just seems excessively wasteful at best, both of our time and as useful agents.
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>>5127775
>>You have no time to waste—head to the Incubus for now, and gather these minions later, once you have mastered the ‘ectoplasm trick’
>>
>>5127875
>Yea, I'd rather we just deal with the incubus first than attempt this piece of time wasting autism.
You must be genuinely retarded if you think that getting rid of those two and blaming it on demons is a bad idea, while you expect the Tower to just... let Mayhew go untested after he lost his monkey and acted suspicious while there's a real possibility of demonic possession floating about. Holyy shit.
>guro porn
Kindly make your way back to the previous threads where Irinnile fuck-shredded random dude to satiate her want. That's the most efficient way for her to recharge and we're currently 1 point from tipping her off.
>>
>>5127775
>You have no time to waste—head to the Incubus for now, and gather these minions later, once you have mastered the ‘ectoplasm trick’
>>
>>5127898
Considering Mayhew only remembers the visage of Pavlov's assistant, I don't think we're under any major threat if they find out about him and interrogate the man, which may not even happen on account of his direct superior being under our control, along with our other enthralled agents embedded within the Tower's investigating and supervising authorities. It's a problem that we should deal with, but killing them right now is excessive, because for all Mayhew knows we're probably a demon who broke outta Pavlov's torture dungeon.

Irinnile also made us eat the dude in an alleyway, and drain-shredding the bodies led to the Inquisition directly on our doorstep and in our personal business. No deathfucking, we can tell out thralls to get us a spare mana potion or two that they probably keep in stock somewhere instead.
>>
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>>5127836
>>5127875
>>5127879
>>5128020
Time is wasting! You need to head to The Incubus’ lair in the lower-middle income area to the far end of town, and quickly. The ‘ectoplasm trick’—that is how you’ve taken to thinking of the useful ability of creating a semi-autonomous, parasitic glob of demonic energy to dwell within a host and monitor them on your behalf—is going to be eminently useful to prevent the discovery of what you’ve done in the Tower. The only other viable option you can think of is to—

‘~Fuck ‘em to death, fuck ‘em to death, make ‘em CREAM and make ‘em SCREAM~’

You try to ignore Irinnile’s morbid little diddy, and she giggles amusedly at your eye-roll.

…But yes, maybe that. Probably not that. The thought of doing… THAT again makes you:
>Uncomfortable—you’re a Reptilian, not a MONSTER
>A bit TOO turned-on
>Worried about Irinnile’s influence on your psyche
>Write-in

In addition to the ectoplasm trick, you also intend to rely on The Incubus and its connections to relocate and hide the Dragonborn and your stolen loot. For now, it all remains uncomfortably close to the Tower. Luckily, you:
>Rigged up some wards with your new warding magic, to silently warn you if the Tower approaches
>Set up magical traps with your warding magic to blind and dazzle any who approach
>Didn’t ward it, despite the possible advantages, because the threat of that magic being discovered offset the benefits to your mind

You reflect on these musings as you:
>Travel to the Incubus on-the-wing, for speed is of utmost importance
>Retract your wings back into your body and travel to The Incubus’ on foot, using stealth to avoid attention
>Mug someone for clothing and shift your shape, the better to travel unrecognized by any Inquisitors
>Write-in

Sorry for the short update, but these were a few parameters for your plans I wanted to nail down and I couldn't think how to stretch the paragraph parts out without purple prose.
>>
>>5128552
>Worried about Irinnile’s influence on your psyche
Clearly eating that soul that desired death was a bad idea, it was like giving child some soda laced with cocaine like the good shit Coke used to be back in the good old days. Fun fact, Sigmund Freud used to give little bags of cocaine out as party gifts. I can only imagine that little Timmy had a fun time with this 'Miracle Medicine' at Freud's birthday.

>Rigged up some wards with your new warding magic, to silently warn you if the Tower approaches
Can't wait for this to give us a panic attack.

>Travel to the Incubus on-the-wing, for speed is of utmost importance
It's still night, right? It should remain decently stealthy for the most part.
>>
>>5128552
>Uncomfortable—you’re a Reptilian, not a MONSTER
>Worried about Irinnile’s influence on your psyche

>Rigged up some wards with your new warding magic, to silently warn you if the Tower approaches

>Travel to the Incubus on-the-wing, for speed is of utmost importance
>>
>>5128552
>Worried about Irinnile’s influence on your psyche

>Rigged up some wards with your new warding magic, to silently warn you if the Tower approaches

>Mug someone for clothing and shift your shape, the better to travel unrecognized by any Inquisitors
>>
>>5128552
>A bit TOO turned-on
>Rigged up some wards with your new warding magic, to silently warn you if the Tower approaches
>Travel to the Incubus on-the-wing, for speed is of utmost importance
>>
>>5128593
>>5128723
>>5128803
>>5128905
It is still night-time, and will be for a few more hours—between Irinnile’s wings and your combined aptitude for shadowy stealth, you ought to be fine to sail clear over the heads of Tower Inquisition bloodhounds with their proverbial nose to the ground. How many people really look UP when investigating crimes? Besides, time is of the essence, and traveling ‘as the crow flies’ is faster.

Granted, with the wards you set up to alert you to any Tower agents approaching the Dragonborn’s hiding place, you are less worried than you might otherwise be… But still, brief as the flight is, anxiety nips at your heels the whole way. You cannot help but feel… Unsettled… By Irinnile’s glee in erotic carnage. Is it just the high level at which her <WANT> has been hovering? The consumption of the burned mage-girl’s soul?

…Is it affecting you?

‘Lispy,’ Irinnile murmurs quietly, ‘you know you can’t veil your thoughts from me or nothin’ like that, right? We’re both knocking a round in this hot bod of yours.’

You don’t reply. You’re not sure how to do so yet, or what to say. Luckily, a distraction presents itself: a crow.

Yes, it seems ‘as the crow flies’ was an aptitude metaphor, for a crow—well, one of those strange local corvids which the incubus you once called Devil-Zivic seems fit to animate and use as spies-in-the-sky—has found you. It now flies alongside you, guiding you down to a hidden alcoves amongst winding, ill-planned streets—a dead-end in a series of side-streets and alleys where two buildings of vastly different eras and ages butt up against one another and create a private wedge. It is a prefect place to inconspicuously make landfall.

You land, and awkwardly fold up your wings beneath your cloak. They remain heavy under the cloth, uncomfortable, and they throw off your centre of balance… But they would be useful in the event you need to make a quick escape. You don’t anticipate that need, though: you made a fairly solid (and surprisingly one-sided) pact with this Not-Zivic—this Incubus, this greater demon—when last you paid it a visit. It cannot lie to you, deceive you, not even misrepresent you. It cannot reveal the nature of the Reptilian Conspiracy to anyone.

‘And the bastard’s gonna’ teach us how to hock a mean loogie that can control and spy on people,’ Irinnile adds, with forced cheer, as if to remind you she is still here, still on your side, and still thinks about things other than sex-murder. You can sense her nervousness about your own concerns
>>
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Rolled 3, 16, 4, 19, 18, 13, 8, 17, 4, 12 = 114 (10d20)

>>5129198

The awkwardness is interrupted yet again, however, by the appearance of another. At first, you take the slim, slight figure for the tattooed waif who served as your doorman last time you were here—even in an unseasonable jacket, they are too small and slight to be the demonic giant you saw before! When the corvid flutters to them and a tattooed hand reaches out to accept it lighting upon a wrist, you believe you are right…

But then the bird who guided you to this place goes stiff, then limp, and topples over; it is dead, or returned to death. The waif pulls back her hood, and you see a face without eyes or mouth—with only shifting, tattooed facsimiles of such features, moving across a face that is entirely skin.

‘How do you like my new outfit?’ The Incubus asks, in a voice without sound. ‘I don’t mean the robes, of course. They’re nothing special. But this girl…’

‘Hey!’ Irinnile snaps. ‘There’s only room for one voice in hotstuff’s head!’

‘And here I thought succubi LIKED cozying up to greater powers… Like a tick. Like a leach.’

Irinnile seethes, gnashing her teeth in the theatre of your mind. You pull back your own hood.

“I am here to make good on our pact,” you announce.

The Incubus tattoos form an puckered ‘o’ of mock-surprise with black lips, spreading into a cat-like grin of jagged black lines.

‘I know,’ it says. ‘I’ve been watching you. Obviously.’

“Obviousssly,” you agree, without humour.

‘You didn’t yet bring me my demon playmates,’ The Incubus notes.

“But I gave you Princce Rufosss,” you point out.

‘Hmmmhmhm, yes,’ The Incubus laughs happily, tilting its head as its attention drifts… Elsewhere. Perhaps to the fragment of its ectoplasm dwelling within the Prince of Hawksong.

“The demonss, I will guide to you ssoon enough—but first, I need ssomething more from you.”

The Incubus creates eyebrows of black-and-blue ink to lift in surprise over exaggerated eye-spots.

“I have liberated more than demonss,” you begin, and then you explain—in succinct detail—the acquisition of a dragon-hybrid chimera of great size and greater importance, and several other relics, hidden in a bayside cave.

‘And you wish for me to hide these treasures away from prying eyes?’ The Incubus asks. ‘I can do that, I suppose… But it’s a lot of faith to put in little old me, is it not? Given our history, and your misgivings? Why not use some of those Engelson Storehouse Company resources’

You say nothing.

‘Am I THAT good a kisser?’ the Incubus teases, the tattooed grin returning, and then the puckered lips again.

“Well, speaking of the ‘kissss’, there ISS one other things you can do for me,” you say, stepping forward with a serious expression. “You owe me lessssonss.”

The incubus laughs--a booming sound that reverberates through your bones and blood-vessels without ever touching your ear.

'Very well. Pucker up, little snake.'
>>
>>5125175
>>These are our demons, not the incubus'.
>Incubus is now asking where the fuck are his demons.
Thank fuck some of us want to actually keep our end of the bargain despite initial distrust!
But if he starts acting like an unhinged freak, I'll make sure we put him 6ft under hell before he goes ballistic.
>>
>>5129203
[6d20 for arcane/occult study, 4d20 mystery dice]

The Incubus leads you up a series of winding and circuitous stairways and across balconies and belfries. At one window, it stops, motioning for you to wait and then removing a wooden box from behind some collapsed brickwork to serve as a stepping stool. It hops up, and knocks upon the warped and discoloured glass pane. A moment later, the window opens, and The Incubus hops inside. You start to follow the demon's lead, but instead a pair of large, strong hands—human hands, at least—take your own and help haul you in through the unconventional entry-point.

‘Hey, wait… Don’t we recognize this place?’ Irinnile asks, as you are lifted up by your hips and set gently down.

Indeed, it is the same smokey, dimly lit room of pillows and hanging fabrics where you met The Incubus before… But that isn’t all you reocgnize. The… Man? Woman? The androgynous human who helped you inside now steps back and bows their head deferentially, and you recognize a shadow of the massive and ambiguously-gendered form which The Incubus assumed when last you were here.

‘There are so, so many ambitions to feed, and wishes to grant, for a philanthropist like me,’ says The Incubus, taking notice of your scrutiny from atop its throne of cushions, in its waifish form. ‘But I forget myself! You are a busy lizard-girl, and you have places to be. Come here, and let me grant a wish of yours…’

>18

To your surprise, the next few hours really do feel like a lesson. The large, androgynous human steps outside, you settle in amongst the cushions, and The Incubus explains the theory, and the practice, behind the partitioning of the self. It reminds you a lot of lessons about emotional and mental comparmentalization which were drilled into you as a young Infiltrator-in-training, albeit altogether more literal. With mental discipline, meditation, and a series of gestures meant to evoke demonic circles and seals in the air around you, you can take a portion of yourself—well, Irinnile’s self, for splitting a mortal soul would be potentially disastrous—and give it limited autonomy, placings it inside another.

>ACQUIRED: Ectoplasmic Puppeteering

‘My, but you ARE a quick study, aren’t you?’ comments The Incubus. ‘So much DRIVE in you. I truly do admire it…’

‘Back off, bitch,’ Irinnile hisses jealously.

The Incubus just laughs again. You resist the urge to wince at the sound.

‘Now,’ the greater demon says, reaching with outstreched arms and, to your comfort, manifesting true lips and tongue upon its host’s face once more, “shall we conclude our business by sealing this new pact? You bring me my new demon friends from the Tower, I give sanctuary to your dragon and your hoard?”
>>
>>5129228
Do you accept the deal? It would mean delaying other plans, most likely, to attend to this enigmatic and unsettling entity’s own recruitment efforts…
>Yes
>No
>Yes, but request a delay in your end of the bargain
>Modify the deal
>Attack the incubus
>Write-in
>>
>>5129230
>Yes
>>
>>5129230
>Say he's a good teach, but what's with that skin face?
>Ask if he has a burner place where we can send the demons and from where his thralls can pick them up
Won't hurt to be safe.
>Yes
But tell him we need to try out his trick out before we gather the hellspawn. There are some loose ends we need to tie with ectoplasm just to be sure.

Also QM, can we appoint Siz-Gamid and/or Yemrep to this find the surviving fiends from last night and give them the address?

>>Attack the incubus
Toss dagger at the crow! Toss dagger at the crow!
>>
>>5129333
>appointing Siz-Gamid or Yemrep

[You'd need to find Siz-Gamid to appoint it/her to do anything, first, and Siz doesn't actually need to listen to you... But may. Yemrep, sure, but he'd probably need a vague idea of where to start looking.]

>vote to attack
[Should I take this as tongue-in-cheek?]
>>
>>5129418
Really should've told them to stick together.

Adding these to my (>>5129333) vote:
>Send Yemrel to find Siz-Gamid
If he needs directions, tell him how she looks and that she can turn into a giant frog, so... check ponds? Sewers? Muddy areas?
>Tell him to be on a lookout for new/weakened demons on his way
Just note their presence and how they look. They might just be our targets.

As for Siz, even if she won't directly help, we can ask her about the demons. As an ex-guard, she should have some idea who was kept in there and remember which of them survived and escaped.

>[Tongue-in-cheek]
Sorry RQM, I signed a demonic NDA to not say this until foxanon has started panicking.
>>
>>5129230
>Modify the deal
If I give you some friends, you must give me some as well. Add shared custody of the demons and the Prince and we good.

If he decides to take the modified deal
>Yes, but request a delay in your end of the bargain
We have important pressing matters that requires our attention, at least until they're resolved. I don't want our thralls to go rogue on us.

>>5129333
>decides to toss the dagger
>experience blind panic

REEEEEEEEE-
>>
>>5129860
>>5129252
>>5129333
You nod, and approach warily. The Incubus embraces you, pulling you into a waifish but decidedly female body with an iron grasp that would not be out of place amongst the Tower’s owlbears. You almost yelp at the suddenness of it, but any such cry is muffled by the incubus’ lips on yours—no handshake pacts here it seems. You consulse slightly at the sensation of an invasive tongue, but those damnable steel-strong hands hold you tight.

Finally, you are released. You stumble back, gasping, while The Incubus merely smiles demurely, lips fading away and smoothing out into patterned skin once more.

‘Mmm,” The Incubus murmurs, a tattoo of a licking tomgue flitting across its features. ‘Is that a human soul I taste? My, you HAVE been embracing this avenue to power…’

‘WE have been, yeah,’ Irinnile huffs.

“We will bring you your demonss, in exxchange for keeping the Dragonborn and my alliess and itemss in ssafety and sssecreccy.”

‘The pact is sealed,’ the greater demon agrees.

“However,” you amend, “it may take ssome time.”

‘Oh?’

“I have ssome loose ends to tie up, for both our sssakess.”

‘Hence learning how to puppeteer a mortal with your demon’s essence,’ The Incubus infers, stroking its chin.

You don’t’ bother to confirm or deny it.

‘Well, just don’t get caught!’ it says, clapping inked hands together before a face swirling with beautiful waves of green and black in strange, hypnotic patterns.

“I will need ssomewhere to bring them, too,” you say. “Perhapsss ot your main base of oeprationss, jusst in casse?”

‘Smart girl,’ The Incubus agrees. ‘I have an aspirant with an old home just outside of Hawksong… An abandoned farming estate, from when this city was smaller and drew tributes from nearer by. The barn will hide your draconic friend nicely. The home will serve as gathering place.’

It sounds sensible enough. You turn to leave, and to set forth on your mission… But then you stop short and turn around.
>>
>>5130020
‘Yes?’ asks the Incubus, as if awaiting the question.

“Why the ssskin face?” you ask. It’s been bothering you—is that its only point? To bother, to unnerve?

‘This poor girl wanted to disappear all her life… To hide human imperfections under layers of pigment, under the beauty of art. She hates her face. Her sex. She wants nothing more than to be… Purified. Beautiful. A living tapestry, into which her self-loathing could just… Disappear.’

The Incubus stands, slipping from clothing as easily as a snake slipping from its skin. It reveals a body devoid of nipples, genitals, of hair. Smooth… And every inch covered in shifting, roaming patterns and images.

‘I grant wishes,’ The Incubus explains, its voice quaking the room even as it whispers. ‘I make dreams come true.’

“I… Sssee.”

Without further ado, you take your take. Only when you step outside, into the piercing light of dawn, do you realize you had been holding your breath. You release it, shuddering.

‘Fuck… Lispy, when did Devil-Zivic or whatever-the-hell get so STRONG?’
‘Stronger still,’ you say with deep ambivalence, ‘when we bring it a small army.’

‘But the pact’s sealed,’ Irinnile sighs.

And so it is… But you negotiated a delay in meeting your end of the bargain, and for an important reason. You have some thralls to inject with demon-drool, and without delay. Though one thing you learned is that performing the so-called ‘ectoplasm trick’ many times in rapid succession will be very draining for your pet succubus…

What do you do?
>Lay low near Felman’s home, and wait for him to return from his work to test the ectoplasm trick on him
>Seek out Henzler—your control over her is the loosest, and she is the most dangerous, and you only need to get her alone for a moment to take proper control with this new ability
>Find the Magus Auctor you enthralled, and sue his authority to detain the others and gather them together
>Track down weak little Mayhew and eat him up—he is the least valuable, likely the least protected, and his lusts and soul will feed your <WANT> so that you can more effectively enthrall the others
>Write-in
>>
>>5130027
>Seek out Henzler—your control over her is the loosest, and she is the most dangerous, and you only need to get her alone for a moment to take proper control with this new ability

We'll bang her for more juice after we ensure our control over her.

As it relates to the incubus, I'm not that worried about it. He may control a personal underworld fiefdom within Hawksong, but he's going to start encountering bigger problems only our influence with the Tower can solve, which puts us in a position of influence to leverage more power outta him. Meanwhile, we can expand our own powerbase in the meantime while the Incubus and the Hawksong Authorities duke it out. Shame it's near the end of this quest, becoming the Underworld Queen of Hawksong would've been rad.
>>
>>5130027
>Track down weak little Mayhew and eat him up—he is the least valuable, likely the least protected, and his lusts and soul will feed your <WANT> so that you can more effectively enthrall the others
>>
>>5130027
>Seek out Henzler—your control over her is the loosest, and she is the most dangerous, and you only need to get her alone for a moment to take proper control with this new ability
First
>Track down weak little Mayhew and eat him up—he is the least valuable, likely the least protected, and his lusts and soul will feed your <WANT> so that you can more effectively enthrall the others
Second
>>
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>>5130048
>>5130131
>>5130318
Head Chimericist Henzler is your main priority. Your control over her was tenuous, temporary, not as complete or as deep as that of your other thralls, and she is most likely to face close scrutiny for the devastating losses her floor suffered. You instructed her to pin much of the blame on her late colleague, the Head Demonologist Pavlov, from whose laboratories escaped the very demons you’ve been tasked with retrieving… But the fourth floor was also where you found the reliquary which contained the city’s dwarven master stone, and their plans for a new defence project. Under close questioning, you fear she will draw suspicion, and warrant a mystical scan for outside influence.

You sail on your devil-wings into the Initiates’ Village, home to the Tower’s student body and staff. There, you land once more, and are forced to abandon those wings to better blend in. After all, you do not know where Henzler makes her residence. You do not know if she has an office besides that found on the fourth basement level of the Tower. You have nowhere else to look for her later. If she is your first priority, you will have to find her at the scene of the crime, amongst the investigators.

Unfortunately, you don’t see her right away. She would stand out like a sore thumb—she was wearing no pointed cap when last you saw her, revealing her distinctive white-fringed reddish hair to all the world. Dread sets in—what if she’s already being questioned? What if you are already being found out? Luckily, one of your other thralls provides a possible solution: Finlay Lithobathius, Tower Guardian.

‘Oh yeah, the fat guy we brainwashed on that scouting mission… Right?’

Irinnile is correct. You recognize the rotund agent of the Tower Guard and his creeping, beholder-eyed spider-chimera scanning the area as the same ones you defeated and enthralled two nights prior, when you were preparing for the Tower Gala. His blue hat stands out amongst the sea of red-hatted Tower agents—Inquisitors. It is an easy thing to beckon his attention from across the street, instantly commanding his loyal attentions. Your control f this one, at least, holds.

“Tower Guardian Lithobathiuss,” you greet him. “What iss the newssss?”

Lithobathius’ face is blank of emotion as he explains his understand, which you take to be the common understanding among most or all Tower agents: the Tower Gala was attacked by some sort of insurrectionists or enemy agents, perhaps of an occult nature. They struck at the Endless Fountain with explosives to draw attention away from their main activity, and to incite distracting panic. They then snuck into the Tower’s research facilities to destroy valuable items of research, killing some Tower operatives.

‘I mean, that’s pretty much right, ain’t it?’ Irinnile asks.
>>
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>>5130497

‘I mean, that’s pretty much right, ain’t it?’ Irinnile asks.

It is, but what really troubles you is what Lithobathius says next:

“Tower Guardians saw a number of foreign-looking individuals among servers and staff—human, but dark complexions, from the Southlands. It would make sense, with all the demonism down there amongst their mages and royal families…”

So someone DID take note of Alhazred and his fellow dark-skinned Deegnerates, even if (luckily) they did not peg them as Reptilian. IT’s a good thing he is out of town, you suppose. And nobody—at least, nobody at Lithobathius’ level—seems to have any idea that you were involved as well. Perhaps you can use this…

“Where isss the Head Chimericissst?” you ask, getting back on-mission.

“I cannot say,” he says, and you know the enthralled man speaks true, “but the higher-ups are having a meeting near the top of the Tower, under guard, including some I’ve heard were present on the lower levels…”

‘Aw shit, how are we supposed ta’ get to her all the way up there, past all the security?’ Irinnile whines, as you both look up at the top of the ivory-coloured stonework of the great, pointed spire that is The Hawksong Mages’ Tower.

What do you do?
>Move onto Mayhew—another easy mark
>Lurk around the area, waiting to ambush Henzler when she emerges
>Test the ectoplasm trick on Lithobathius, and then have him lead you up the Tower to where Henzler and the higher-ups are meeting
>Use Lithobathius to spread suspicion of Southern demonologists as the true culprit, and to otherwise contaminate the investigation
>Use the mage’s ‘bespider’ familiar to spy upon Henzler’s meeting
>Write-in
>>
>>5130500
>Test the ectoplasm trick on Lithobathius, and then have him lead you up the Tower to where Henzler and the higher-ups are meeting
>Use Lithobathius to spread suspicion of Southern demonologists as the true culprit, and to otherwise contaminate the investigation
>Use the mage’s ‘bespider’ familiar to spy upon Henzler’s meeting

Might as well be nearby in case this goes tits up.
>>
>>5130500
>Use Lithobathius to spread suspicion of Southern demonologists as the true culprit, and to otherwise contaminate the investigation
>Use the mage’s ‘bespider’ familiar to spy upon Henzler’s meeting
>>
>>5130500
>Use Lithobathius to spread suspicion of Southern demonologists as the true culprit, and to otherwise contaminate the investigation
But tell him to not go too hard so he doesn't draw attention to himself.
>Ask if he knows where Head Chimerist lives
Ignore this if she's a basement dweller. Think that either she or Pavlov lived at their workplace, right? I just wanna make sure.
>Ask Lithobatgius if he ever used his familiar to spy on people
Find out if he knows any safe access or spot to take, so we don't risk bespider getting caught peeking on what's definitely a high-security meeting.
>Use the mage’s ‘bespider’ familiar to spy upon Henzler’s meeting
Try to scope how long will this take and keep an eye on her mental state.

Hopefully we can catch her after she leaves. Hell, if she lives somewhere in the city, we could ask Felman to escort or "guard" her at her home as an inquisitor. Just an idea.
>>
>>5130500
>>Use Lithobathius to spread suspicion of Southern demonologists as the true culprit, and to otherwise contaminate the investigation
>>Use the mage’s ‘bespider’ familiar to spy upon Henzler’s meeting
>>
[I will post tonight, but later -- I am visiting with my family out of town.]
>>
>>5130500
>Test the ectoplasm trick on Lithobathius, and use him to spread suspicion of Southern demonologists as the true culprit, and to otherwise contaminate the investigation
>Use the mage’s ‘bespider’ familiar to spy upon Henzler’s meeting
>Make sure we send the imp to warn Roth to extract the other Tower operatives before the Tower starts to investigate these rumors.
>>
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>>5130637
>>5130587
>>5130535
>>5131542
>>5130663

You need to know what is going on in the Tower meeting—what state Henzler is in, what they know what they think they know—and Lithobathius and his familiar are perfect to acquire this info. But first, there is one other function he can serve: test subject.

“Come here,” you instruct and, of course, he does. Lithobathius is your thrall, your puppet, your creature.

He is also one proper, thorough magical scan away from his liberation and your exposure. No longer! You cup his face and, as The Incubus showed you—as you did on its behalf to Hawksong’s dilettante prince—you kiss him and delivery a payload of brackish, demonic essence from your gut—from the dark recesses of your metaphysical innards, where Irinnile dwells.

‘Ugh, oh fffuck, I don’t like THAT at all.’

You can’t say you do, either, feeling the sympathetic reverberations of Irinnile’s discomfort through your soulbond. It is like the opposite of feeding—like vomiting, purging, forcibly emptying yourself. Your mouth and throat are raw. You feel… Emptier. Hungrier.

‘Hornier but… In a bad way?’

Irnnile hits the nail on the head. You feel your dark passenger’s need to feel intently, but without excitement or desire, like a starving woman needs food without thinking of flavour.

“Do you have a mana potion?” you ask Lithobathius.

At first, dry-heaving on the ground, he is of little help. He is rolling his body and gagging as if trying to eject the foreign presence. His familiar, clinging to the wall, twitches and writhes, then falls down upon its back…

And then, Lithobathius slumps, and forces himself to his feet… And roduces a potion.

“Good boy,” you mutter, your sexually-charged banter half-hearted at best as you swig it. It calms the churning emptiness inside, but doesn’t wholly fill it.

<WANT: 18>

Now, though, Lithobathius is within your control, by a means more complex, les detectable, and altogether more diabolical… And through him, his ‘bespider’ also.

“Go, ssew ssome discord and doubt. Make sure nobody ssuspectss that it wass NOT Ssouthern Demonologisstss. Invent ssome evidence if you musst. Lie about what you have ssseen.”

Lithobathius blinks a few times, but nods.

“Of course,” he says. “Was it not? You know you can’t trust their mages. They speak t the dead, worship devils. Thank you for the tip.”

He accepts your assertion not as one mindlessly puppeteered, but as if the assertion came from a trusted source, or from within—his own intuition. He geos forth to do you bidding, and is glad fo it.

‘Almost makes the hunger-pains worth it,’ Irinnile gripes sarcastically.
>>
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>>5131685
‘Yes,’ you agree, more seriously, watching him go. Then, you turn to his familiar, and it really does feel all worth it…

Because by focusing upon Lithobathius, and the part of Irinnile inside of him, you can follow that channel to the connection he ahs with the bespider and see yourself through its one great central eye. You have a wall-crawling, all-seeing eye-spy, tethered to your own senses through this network of psychic and demonic control!

It, too, you send forth to do as you require.

The bespider climbs the tower with ease, even the sheer and smooth surfaces little trouble for its curious locomotion. It is not swift, though—not large enough to clamber quickly. Luckily, its small size which so impedes its speed also makes it difficult to notice or to identify, if one doesn’t know what one is looking for… Or so you hope.

Your theory seems plausible enough, for nobody who looks up seems to take notice of it or to alert those within the tower to its presence. You take up a hidden placement in a inconspicuous hideaway near the alley where you absconded with Lithobathius, sitting down and shutting your eyes to focus upon the remote manipulation of your new chimeric spy, as it finally reaches the uppermost floor of the tower and circles about it, seeking signs of a window hrough which one might listen in on a meeting.

“—unacceptable breach! And ‘unacceptable’ is putting it lightly!”

Well, that bellow sounds promising. You manoeuvre the bespider closer, setting it delicately below the window from which the sound emerges. You cannot peer inside—at least, you decide it may be a titch too risky to do so with so unnatural and obvious a minion—but you can certainly listen.

“I understand,” another man’s voice relies to the first. “But Archmage, sir, please—You must understand that our attentions were upon the Gala, and the guests thereof… As You instructed.”

“So you cannot simultaneously guard two places in a single building?” a third voice asks, condescendingly.

“Archmage,” the second voice says, not directly confronting the third but calling its owner out, “perhaps if the Head inquisitor was actually doing his job and rooting out demons and demonologists from the city, we would have fewer threats to guard AGAINST.”

“Oh, so you cannot defend a single building, but you deign to tell ME how to protect an entire CITY?”
>>
>>5131690

“Southern demonists arriving from OUTSIDE the building, gathering together and planning such an attack… is that NOT an Inquisition matter?”

“Is keeping OUR Head Demonologist’s lab secret not YOUR purview, Praetor?”

“Yes,” the first voice, the Archmage, gravely intones. “Pavlov’s loss is a serious blow to countering this violence, also… And to mitigating our losses.”

“As well as to identifying and instituting countermeasures to the demons who are spread throughout Hawksong,” murmurs the Head Inquisitor.

The Praetor—the Head of the Tower Guardians, you assume?—scoffs. “You cannot even find a great green GOLIATH, let alone demons.”

“Head Chimericist,” the Archmage speaks up, “you have been remarkably quiet. Do you have anything to add on that front? Pavlov’s department was not the only one affected. Yours, and the Reliquarian’s… project. Those are major, MAJOR breaches. Have you determined anything of how it was done?”

“Or where the culprits WENT with such conspicuous cargo?” presses the Praetor.

There is a long pause, and then Henzler speaks up: “I… Do not know. I wish that I did.”

Two groans go up from the Head Inquisitor and the Praetor.

“That’s everything? That’s all? Damnit, woman, you are meant to have means to track down and UNDO these monsters!”

“I do have such,” she haughtily relies.

“And yet… They’re lost? Beyond you?” the Archmage inquires.

“I… They are, yes. I do not know how.”

“Are you quiet alright?” he asks. “Henzler, you are not your usual self.”

“A fair bit less competent,” the Praetor grumbles.

“I am… Shaken by the attack. By the scope of it,” Henzler replies, in unconvincing monotone. “So much lost… So many deaths.”

“You?” the Head Inquisitor asks. “Shaken?”

“And caring about your assistants?” the Praetor guffaws. “That’s a first!”

The Archmage says nothing… Nothing at all. And that, that worries you.

Finally, he speaks up: “Perhaps we all need rest. It ahs been a long night. You said you ahd checked all possible escape routes, yes, Henzler?”

“From my floor and Pavlov’s, yes.”

“Perhaps someone less. Shaken should do so.”

‘Aw hell,’ Irinnile says. ‘Lispy, what’s the play?’

What do you do?
>Send Yemrep to alert Alhazred that the Tower may be rechecking the underground caverns
>Trust in The Incubus to get them to safety, and your wards to trigger if the mages get anywhere near The Dragonborn before then, and acquire Henzler on her way out of the meeting
>Attempt to feed Henzler a convincing lie or diversion through your tenuous psychic connection [what?]
>Wait… These are a lot of important mages in one place. Using Henzler and the bespider’s abilities, attempt an assassination [specify which target(s)]
>Write-in
>>
>>5131693
>Trust in The Incubus to get them to safety, and your wards to trigger if the mages get anywhere near The Dragonborn before then, and acquire Henzler on her way out of the meeting
>Attempt to feed Henzler a convincing lie or diversion through your tenuous psychic connection

What if we're looking at this all wrong? What if Pavlov staged all of this? The fountain distraction, the Southern infiltration, the multiple department breaches, his death? What if all of this is smokescreen for Pavlov's soul going rouge on us? I think we need to reexamine the Demonologist's lab, see if we missed anything that would go unnoticed by other mages hastily assessing the damage with an uncritical eye? (That Soul Coin may just have saved our asses in a unique way. We should have Felman find the discrepancy.)

This'll buy us the time the Incubus needs, and diverts suspicion to Pavlov and reinforces the Southern infiltration narrative.
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>>5131693
>Send Yemrep to alert Alhazred and Incubus that the Tower may be rechecking the underground caverns
I trust Incubus, but giving them a heads up won't hurt.
If he ends up meeting with Incubus, can we throw in a question? I want Yemrep to ask whether ectoplasmed targets can wear amulets or be detected.
If it's really like our demonic possession, then amulets will burn them and others will be able to notice Irinnile's essence...
>Attempt to feed Henzler a convincing lie or diversion through your tenuous psychic connection
Tell her to act like she's genuinely tired at least. I don't know how to make a sudden empathy and personality change look normal.

We REALLY need to eat someone, anons.
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>>5131803
+1 the tired bit, we can play it off as failed sarcasm.

>I want Yemrep to ask whether ectoplasmed targets can wear amulets or be detected.

I assume that would've came up during our lessons. Fake amulets should do the trick, and I can't imagine contractually-obligated incels being the touchy-feely sort.

I'm alright to skullfuck to death a suicidal nutjob or a nobody hobo, the problem is proper disposal.

On an unrelated note, I think we should start making pacts with people, give Irinnile a power up if we can after the Dragonborn is delivered. (Also sort of reminds me of that lesbo witch we almost killed in the duel, I wonder if she's a pliable target.)
>>
>>5131852
>Amulets and detection
Yeah well, I still want to know it all, Yemrep is free intel.
As for detection, it is bound to happen eventually some high-ranking mage will inevitably look at Hezler or Felman or even fatso and see there is something inside. That was the actual fear we had during Gala until we put that demonic aura-masking stone in our chest and it's especially dangerous with Hezler and Felman, given their positions

Mayhew still needs to be dealt with, btw. I bet in a couple days you won't remember his existence and even if you do it will be like with Yemrep now, when I try to use him to make things run smoother and gather intel but he gets ignored and Ismena must do everything by herself.
Like, why don't you want to tell the incubus the pigs are coming for the lizard?

>Pacts
If we start making pacts now, we'll just attract more attention to ourselves in a city that is soon to be very hostile towards all demoniggers, based on the discussion we've just heard.
But also think of it this way: we already have Engels, Incubus, TPK and shirin business to attend to regularly, and then like 4-5 active tasks pending (escorting dragonborn, planting ectoplasm in Felman and Hezler, reporting back to Roth, finding the demons as a part of pact we put in place and explaining to Edwin where the fuck were we / telling Fynn we struck a deal with the Prince). Oh and also healing Bianchi's leg so he doesn't become a handicap. Yeah, remember that guy?
Adding demonic deals to the plate right now would cripple us more than it would help, and that is assuming we could avoid getting exposed or straight up caught, which is one thing we are absolutely not capable of as the past events have shown.
>>
>>5131693
>Trust in The Incubus to get them to safety, and your wards to trigger if the mages get anywhere near The Dragonborn before then, and acquire Henzler on her way out of the meeting
>>
>>5131797
>>5131803
>>5132362

It takes a great deal of focus, but through your direct observation and brain-aching focus, you are able to relay a command to the Head Chimericist:

>BE LESSSS OBVIOUSSSS

Henzler is wearing a false amulet against possession and mental manipulation—a real one would cancel out even your new ‘ectoplasm trick’ but you still don’t want her under any closer scrutiny than absolutely necessary. You have a few notes for this amateur actor, and she has no choice but to take them.

“Can you blame me for being shaken?” Henzler mutters, rubbing the bridge of her nose. “We lost IRREPALCEABLE personnel who I could actually TOELRATE. The replacements will require training from scratch, and may be incompetent. My research—DECADES of it—has gone missing. If word gets out about the demons—if Pavlov’s failure kills MORE people—I will no doubt be subject to scrutiny. We ALL will.”

There is silence from Henzler’s compatriots.

“So YES,” your puppet says, with genuine emotion this time for this is a frustration she truly, deeply feels, “I am SHAKEN and TIRED. But I am NOT incompetent.”

“Yes, well,” the Praetor says after a moemtn, “the remains to be seen, doesn’t it?”

“Oh, Lavernius, you utter twat!” snaps the Head Inquisitor.

“That will be quite ENOUGH, Magus Praetor,” the Archmage booms, authoritatively. “NONE of you have come out of this unblemished, frankly.”

An awkward silence lingers, and then the Archmage sighs, saying “You are all dismissed, to rest and return when you are fresher in mind and mana. Return when you are useful, and bring what wisdom you can muster. I will follow up on some leads of my own…”

“Sir?” the Head inquisitor asks.

“There was a nobleman at the Gala with some… Unusual notions. I gave little thought to them at the time, but… Well, nevermind. It’s a long-shot. If it amounts to anything, I will discuss it with you tomorrow.”

And so it is that the Magus Praetor, the Head inquisitor, and Henzler herself depart the Archmage’s office. Almost immediately, Head Chimericist Henzler responds to your next relayed command:

>COME TO ME, NOW
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>>5134004

She does, as you intercept her around the back of the Mages’ Tower and lead her away from prying eyes. Her tiredness is no lie, even if this strange biological mage-woman does not exactly look ‘shaken’: her deceptively-youthful face, poor match to her aged voice, is nevertheless less vibrant than it was when she confronted you last night. You have to imagine you look much the same: sex and mana potions are no substitute for sleep. Still, you have a job to do…

<WANT: 19>

One messy, ectoplasm-laden kiss later—one in which Henzler simply accepts the embrace with the enthusiasm of a dead fish, and swallows the payload like so much unappetizing medicine—Henzler is as Lithabthius has become: an object of permanent control, barring outside influence, and a pair of eyes through which you can spy. And so highly-placed, so knowledgeable!

“Does this mean I may see my dragon?” Henzler asks, a strange enthusiasm (or anxiety) overriding her exhaustion, and her misgivings about you erased or supressed by the demonic parasite within. You can sense that physical intimacy and kissing in particular seem to disgust her regardless, though.

What do you do?
>Send Henzler to join Alhazred and your chimeras at the Incubus’ farmhouse [specify if you give her any other instructions]
>Keep Henzler with you for now—you have further use for her
>Instruct Henzler to return to her duties, and to spy upon and sabotage their investigations wherever possible [specify if you have a method in mind]
>Drag Henzler back to Felman’s home, and recoup some <WANT> with her—her desires or disgust is irrevelent
>Write-in

What is your next move?
>Seek out Mayhew, for fun and food
>Seek out Felman, for intel on the investiagtion
>Seek out Magus Auctor Federigo, to secure a possible leak who saw your real face
>Spy upon the Archmage, and his mysterious 'lead'
>Write-in
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>>5134005
>Send Henzler to join Alhazred and your chimeras at the Incubus’ farmhouse, to restore the draconian's wings and bad hand if possible and ensure the other chimera ate in good shape

>Visit Edwin- you owe him an explanation, as promised, and a good sex-nap will do you wonders
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>>5134005
>Send Henzler to join Alhazred and your chimeras at the Incubus’ farmhouse
Tell her to return home and make sure nobody follows before she sets off.
And once she arrives at the farmhouse, tell Alhazred that Ismena sent her, don't spill any excess information to Incubus or his thralls and see if she would be able to fix up the Dragonborn - whether it's the wings, body or mind.
Now that she's with us, we can actually use her talents to the fullest.
>Seek out Felman, for intel on the investiagtion
Mention Auctor Federigo and tell Felman to make sure he doesn't compromise us. Also inform him about Archmage's lead, Isaac Yosef. Keep us updated on the developments of both cases.
>Take the suicide order off of him
If doable.

I miss the comfort of using Yemrep.
>>
>>5134005
>Drag Henzler back to Felman’s home, and recoup some <WANT> with her—her desires or disgust is irrevelent
Then
>Send Henzler to join Alhazred and your chimeras at the Incubus’ farmhouse, to restore the draconian's wings, bad hand, and menta facilities if possible and ensure the other chimera ate in good shape. If Irinnile wants to add a funtional big dick as well, I won't stop her.
We need our WANT satisfied before we start completing our other objectives.
>Seek out Felman, for intel on the investiagtion
>Seek out Magus Auctor Federigo, to secure a possible leak who saw your real face
Felman for convenance, Federigo for security.
>>
>>5134005
Alternatively, we should probably do
>Keep Henzler with you for now—you have further use for her
>Spy upon the Archmage, and his mysterious 'lead'

If only to ensure the Archmage isn't investigating the Reptilian angle in Yosef.
>>
>>5131959
The Packs are for after our time-sensitive business are finished, btw. We do have many loose ends to worry about.
>>
>>5134269
>We do have many loose ends to worry about.
>Wants more loose ends by telling people about Irinnile.
YOU NEVER LEARN
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>>5134305
>thinks expanding our powerbase is creating more loose ends
NO WONDER WE TAKE A FULL THREAD TO ACCOMPLISH ANYTHING SIGNIFICANT
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>>5134320
>ignores my point
>counters by saying we can't accomplish anything in time because Ismena is too weak
>thinks muh strenk and more puppets will fix all our problems
>that Ismena can just get the Incubus power level from a couple lucky deals on the side in between other things Ismena has to attend to
>meanwhile he's too afraid to sacrifice one of his problematic thralls to regain a fraction of energy required for making those deals happen
>energy we now desperately need
Maybe if you focused on anything significant instead of wasting time on finding new toys you wouldn't have to invent yet another scheme to expand the mana bar you're too disorganized to refuel.
>>
>>5134354
>ignores my points
>counters with strawmans
>thinks killing and violence can solve all of our problems
>thinks sacrificing the weakest thrall immediately of the Gala breakin won't cause suspension against out other thralls
>completely ignores the Archmage's investigation into the real reason behind the Gala breaches

I can't tell if we're memeing or having a serious argument. If this is a serious argument, then I'd say that killing Mayhew after the fact will only put more attention on our thralls, and create more problems than it solves.
>>
>>5134265
>>5134268
[Which of these two is your actual vote? I just want to be sure.]
>>
>>5134394
In all honesty, I sorta prefer >>5134268 because I'm slightly paranoid as to where that thread will lead, but if you're ready to write now, feel free to use >>5134265 vote instead. I don't want to hold up the quest anymore that necessary, mark my words.
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>>5134354
Actually, why not use Henzler to recoup our WANT if you're so worried about regaining the energy we need?
>>
This is all so fucking tiring.
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>>5134418
This is you just wanting to fuck the abomination that is Hezler. You might even convince yourself it's a good idea, completely forgetting we get like -1 or -2 want from draining people in a normal state, and she is EXHAUSTED. AND OUR WANT IS 19.
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>>5134438
Anon, I could give less of a shit about banging her just because we can. We can drag a prostitute to Felman and drain them to death for all I care (though that'll certainly blow his cover). This is about convenience. Henzler is right here, and we were planning on meeting Felmen anyways. We can also control Irinnile's urges to prevent excessive exhaustion/death, so I fail to see why your sperging out over it the idea.
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>>5131797
>>5131803
>>5132362

Though ‘breaking’ Henzler has a certain allure—in particular, to Irinnile—you are able to convince the ravenous succubus to stand down with a different proposal:

“Head Chimericissst Henzler,” you say, “there is a farmhousse on the outsskirtss of Hawkssong where my forccess are masssssing. You are now among those forccess… And sssso iss your dragon.”

The Head Chimericist half-glowers and half-ogles you with anticipation. You sense that, while she is by no means loyal to YOU beyond your ectoplasmic influence, she is hardly more loyal to Hawksong or the Archmage—she is loyal, if anything, to the further pursuit of this grand experiment of hers.

“Ssee if you can tidy up your work, will you?” you ask. “Hiss arm, hiss wingss... Hiss mind, most of all.”

‘And?’ Irinnile eggs you on. ‘AND?! We had a deal, Lispy!’

You sigh. “…And verify that hiss… Reproductive apparati are in working order, as well.”

Henzler opens her mouth, but you shut her down, snapping “Don’t quesstion me!”
>>
>>5134468

Henzler shuts her mouth, glaring for a moment… Then shrugs.

“If I can do my work—and with the materials and knowledge on the subject that you no doubt have access to… What’s one employer over another?”

A part f you wonders if this is your influence, or her actual opinion on the matter. Whatever the case, Henzler is soon gone—first to her home, to gather supplies to perform your requested work, and then (you assume with great confidence) to do your bidding at the farmhouse.

‘Heheheheeee, imagine it! Two foot long dragony schlong, hotstuff!’

‘Focus,’ you admonish Irinnile. ‘We still have work to do. Next is—’

‘Felman the Incel, I know, I knooOOoow.’ Irinnile sighs. ‘You know I don’t’ have much more left in me, right?’

Irinnile isn’t wrong. Without a means to replenish <WANT>, she will be little more than a feral beast who you must wrangle control of after one more ‘ectoplasm trick’. After that, she will only grow weaker, and become a greater and greater distraction to your logical mind. You can feel the ache—not the fun kind, as Irinnile would put it—that she feels with each expenditure of herself. That si on top of your own exhaustion…

You consider the dilemma, and solutions to it, as you travel incognito to Felman’s residence. When you arrive, you easily let yourself in—you know his wards now, and you are more capable than ever of disarming such a familiar security rune. Once inside, you even take the time to re-set it, for greater effect! The effort, though, only further tires you… And Felman is still not home.

It is mid-morning now. Felman has been out all night, and has not yet returned. You are exhausted, and in need of mana. Three thralls remain un-ecoplasmed, and your pact with The Incubus requires that you also retrieve a small army of demons.

What do you do?
>Send Yemrep out to seek out and contact someone, and to lead them to your current location [who? Keep in mind: the less certain their location is, the longer it will take Yemrep to find them, so proposing a probable starting point may speed the process up]
>Spy through the eyes of your thralls, or give them instruction: Lithobathius, and the bespider [specify if you send them anywhere in particular]
>Sleep in Felman’s bed, to stave off collapse and to keep yourself sharp
>Pay a visit to that Tower Saffer, Paula—she isn’t far from here, and she’s good for a quick <WANT> replenishment
>Rummage around Felman’s place in search of anything interesting or useful
>Write-in
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>>5134438
I'll be busy for a couple of hours, but you have nothing to worry about- there is no supporting vote to bang Henzler, and even if there was, we can always ask Felmen or Henzler to grab a couple of mana potions before we interrogate Felmen at his house to prevent us and our thrall's exhaustion if that'll helps any.
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>>5134470
>Pay a visit to that Tower Saffer, Paula—she isn’t far from here, and she’s good for a quick <WANT> replenishment
Then
>Sleep in Felman’s bed, to stave off collapse and to keep yourself sharp

Just before I head off.
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>>5134470
>Fetch Yemrep. Send him to Bianchi and make them summon a dangerous demon named Siz-Gamid. Tell the demon Ismena wants to hear everything she knows about the prisoners Pavlov kept, specifically the ones who escaped and note everything down.
And don't banish her, just like unsummon.
>Sleep in Felman’s bed, to stave off collapse and to keep yourself sharp
Leave Felman a small note to wake us up once he returns.

>>5134452
If Felman was home, then bringing them together, simultaneously leeching on both and then giving him ectoplasm would've been my vote.
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>>5134470
>Pay a visit to that Tower Saffer, Paula—she isn’t far from here, and she’s good for a quick <WANT> replenishment

We can get her perspective on things as well.
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>>5134476
>>5134609
>>5134817

You slop down in bed, practically read to sleep right then and there… But no. With a groan, you rise. Your succubus’ appetites are demanding and, even if you didn’t… Did not…

‘Love me?’ Irinnile coos.

…Even then, you need Irinnile’s power, and her ectoplasm, in no small abundance. Luckily, you know just who you can hit up for a cup on mana in the Initiate’s Village: Paula, the minor-mage turned Tower Staffer.

You have had trysts with Paula before—once with Edwin, in fact, which sets you to thinking of him as you walk there. Irinnile too, for that matter.

‘Edwin, Eeedwin,’ irinnile hums. ‘Now THAT’s a rich, full source of delicious, thick MANA.’

But Edwin will have to wait—you cannot be away from Felman’s for long, if you hope to make expedient business of this trip to Hawksong and to wrap up loose ends before the Archmage and his lackeys begin pulling at the threads of The Grand Design of the Dark Gods. For now, Paula will do. You continue on to her home, stopping only briefly to survey Tower workers and craftsmen attending to the now-blasted site of the Endless Fountain.

You met Paula for the first time there, had a wonderful date with Edwin there. Now, its cascading tower of endless water, seemingly reaching up to the heavens themselves, is simply… Rubble, and a small pond of brackish water.

You stare for a moment, then move on.

“Ismena?” Paula asks, looking startled and perhaps a touch unnerved to see you. “What are you doing here?”

Hm. Not the response you expected.

With an easy smile you say “What, not excccited to ssee me?”

Paula hesitates, then beckons you inside saying, “No, no, it’s not… It’s just, you know. The attack. And you were there!”

“Ah. Yess,” you say.

Paula shuts and, in her anxiety (apparently brought on by news of the assault on the Tower and the explosion at the Endless Fountain) she locks and even wards her door. Her ward is amateurish to your eye… But, admittedly, created faster and more fastidiously than you can yet accomplish with such effort.
>>
>>5135784
You look about her home: a small suite on the ground-floor of a creaking, curving structure that is probably held together as much by minor magic as anything else. The interior is… Cramped. Cozy. But warm despite the slightly breezy and cloudy weather outside. Every available surface hosts a book, and well-dusted bookshelves abound—this staffer takes her study, and her hopes of becoming a true Tower student, seriously.

“You look awful,” Paula says, bluntly.

You just smile, hiding the annoyance.

“Sorry,” paula quickly replies. “It’s just…”

“I haven’t sslept,” you interrupt, speaking truthfully.

Paula nods, frowning sympathetically. “It’s awful, what happened. Is Edwin alright?”

You hide a frown at the waves of fear and affection you sense radiating from her in accordance with this question. You remember how a covert exploration of Edwin’s mind two or three days ago revealed his deep affections for this somewhat-awkward, magically-gifted girl—this glorified janitor and gofer—and the fondness he had for her laugh, her freckles, her laugh. You recall how he’d thought—in passing, but not just once—that she might even understand him better than you, and that HE certainly had a better understanding of her. Understandable, really—you have kept so much from him, for his own protection—but still…

“He’ss fine,” you say, “resssting at home.”

“Ah,” she says. “maybe you should do the same? I’m serious, Izzy, you look exhausted.”

“I am,” you admit, advancing and licking your lips, “but I think I know jussst the fixxx.”

What do you do?
>Seduce Paula and sate some <WANT>, then leave
>Drain Paula dry, greatly refreshing your <WANT> at the expense of this romantic rival’s life
>Vampirize Paula and then use ectoplasmic puppeteering to make her a thrall, and order her to never see Edwin again without your express permission
>Sate <WANT> with Paula, and mesmerize her, but only to help spread false theories about the attack on the Tower being related to Southern Demonists
>Write-in
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>>5135786
>Seduce Paula and sate some <WANT>, then leave

Ask her what she knows about the Gala disaster before leaving though
>>
>>5135786
>>Seduce Paula and sate some <WANT>, then leave
>>
>>5135786
>Drain Paula dry, greatly refreshing your <WANT> at the expense of this romantic rival’s life
>>
>>5135786
>>Sate <WANT> with Paula, and mesmerize her, but only to help spread false theories about the attack on the Tower being related to Southern Demonists
>>
>>5136205
>>5136107
>>5136019
>>5135866

You pat the sweaty, gasping mess that is Paula the Staffer upon her cheek, and give her a kiss farewell. As you leave, you lick your lips, and can still taste her.

<WANT: 18>

Sure, you could have gotten ‘revenge’ on the female human… But that would take time, would leave a trail. Part-way through your lovemaking—if so it can be called, for you found ways to ‘punish’ her all the same—you heard movement on the floors above. It turned out to be only other lodgers in this residence but if they’d heard a demonic murder or caught you mid-mesmerism… Well, that could have been bad.

And besides, can you really blame Paula for loving Edwin? Edwin of Engel IS, in your expert opinion, very lovable.

‘But he’s OURS,’ Irinnile insists.

Indeed he is… And you’ll pay him a visit soon, to reassert that much. But for now, you have business with a bed. You are somewhat refreshed magically, and Irinnile is no longer quite so ‘hangry’, but your physical, mortal body still has its limits.

Unfortunately, when you arrive at Inquisitor Felman’s home in the late morning, and begin to unravel his household protections, the Inquisitor himself interrupts you by completing the task and opening the door.

“You,” he says, simply and without fanfare.

“Yessss,” you sigh.

“Come inside, and quickly.” Felman pauses. “Please.”

You do so, and he shuts the door. So much for a nap before he returns…

What do you do about Felman?
>Sleep anyway—you need the rest, damnit!
>Use the ‘ectoplasm trick’ on Felman
>Skip the ectoplasm trick, and resultant exhaustion and hunger, and move onto other maters
>Write-in

To what end do you employ Felman?
>Interrogate Felman on the investigation and investigators
>Send Felman to contaminate crime-scenes and mislead the Tower Inquisition
>Use Felman to retrieve Mayhew and Federigo, and to bring them to you
>Bring Felman with you as you tail the Archmage and spy upon him
>Write-in
>>
>>5136225
>Use the ‘ectoplasm trick’ on Felman
>Use Felman to retrieve Mayhew and Federigo, and to bring them to you
>>
>>5136225
>Use the ‘ectoplasm trick’ on Felman

>Interrogate Felman on the investigation and investigators
should be quick
>Use Felman to retrieve Mayhew and Federigo, and to bring them to you
>>
>>5136225
>Use the ‘ectoplasm trick’ on Felman
>Sleep afterwards

>Interrogate Felman on the investigation and investigators
>Send Felman to contaminate crime-scenes and mislead the Tower Inquisition
>Use Felman to retrieve Mayhew and Federigo, and to bring them to you
>>
>>5136254
>>5136289
>>5136640

You hold make a sigh of resignation, and beckon Felman to you. His expression gives away his distaste, his annoyance at your control… But controlled he is, and controlled he will CONTINUE to be. You clear your throat, pull him into your embrace and…

<WANT: 19>

…Empty yourself, and some more of Irinnile.

‘Lispy… I don’t feel so good, babe,’ she whimpers.

‘Nor I,’ you admit, stumbling to the bed and sitting down before you faint.

Your vision goes black as demonic ichor around the edges, but you stay conscious through force of will. To keep yourself awake, you focus upon the thrashings and convulsions of stuck-up Felman on his own living room floor. That brightens your mood a little bit. But Gods, Darkest and most Distant Deities… Oh, are you tired. That same ache has returned to your gut, your nether-regions… But even the thought of more intercourse to feed Irinnile leaves you feeling further fatigued.

Eventually, Inquisitor Felman returns to his feet. The steel ahs returned to his spine, and the anger has left his eyes. He looks at you as he might a superior in his agency—as he might at that Head Inquisitor. He even SALUTES.

‘Well shit,’ Irinnile says, ‘that’s cute.’

You smile a small smile, and set him to his next task: “Fetch me Assssisstant Chimericissst Mayhew and Magusss Auctor Federigo.”

“Will they resist?” Felman asks. “Shall I craft a deception?”

You appreciate the initiative, you must admit.

“No, they should not,” you say.

Felman nods, and with his usual seriousness and efficiency, he sets off… But pauses again at the door.

“Where will be reconvene forces?” he asks.

A good question. You will meet them…
>Here, at Felman’s—the better to implant ectoplasm unseen
>In the old abandoned building where you have performed occult rituals—better to dispose of them permanently
>In the farmhouse outside of town—you have long-term plans for some or all of these pawns
>Write-in

Once Felman is gone, you move onto your next course of action…
>A long, well-deserved nap
>Rounding up those demons you loosed, per your bargain with The Incubus
>Tracking and tailing the Archmage—you investigation troubles you
>Paying Edwin a long-overdue visit—he must be worried sick!
>Fetching your abandoned loot from the Tower
>Turning a few tricks, like the bad old early days—you need to refuel Irinnile’s reserves to perform the ectoplasm trick again without… Issues
>Write-in
>>
>>5137131
>Here, at Felman’s—the better to implant ectoplasm unseen
>Have Feldman also grab our forgotten loot on the way back, along with a couple of mana potions
>A long, well-deserved nap

This tiredness is starting to worry me, even though the Archmage's investigation is also freaking me out.
>>
>>5137131
>In the old abandoned building where you have performed occult rituals—better to dispose of them permanently

>A long, well-deserved nap
>>
>>5137131
>In the old abandoned building where you have performed occult rituals—better to dispose of them permanently
>A long, well-deserved nap
>>
>>5137631
>>5137183
>>5137152
You flop back down upon Felman’s bed. You have several hours before it is time to meet with him in the old, abandoned warehouse—well, more accurately, slaughterhouse, animal stable, and farmer’s market—where you have now twice performed occult rituals. This day shall be your third such enterprise there, but no less bloody. You have decided to permanently dispose of some of the extraneous puppets in your roster.

‘Good,’ Irinnile groans. ‘I don’t think I could do that trick with the ectoplasm much more today…’

You shush the succubus. ‘Rest,’ you advise her, ‘and you’ll feel better.’

‘Lispy… You know I don’t sleep, right?’

She might not, but you do—and right now, you are so in need of a good sleep that you are out before you can even respond to the demon.

Unfortunately, it is not a wholesome and dreamless Reptilian torpor that finds you. No, instead it is… Awful. You have dreamt as humans dream before, several times since arriving in Hawksong. This ne, as your last, is a good case against ever having such dreams again. You struggle to follow the contours of the narrative—one moment, you are leaving Hawksong, marching before a clumn of those you have slain, brainwashed, tricked, dominated, and liberated from human imprisonment your victories. The next, you are before the Serpent Priests and the Dark Gods themselves, feeling the weight of their stare. A crowd has gathered in the high, vaulted hall, beneath a ceiling studded with gemstones to emulate the constellations above, with candle and torchlight setting each false star ablaze with light: a thousand more eyes, staring down from above.

“Have I not done all that you asked?” you say to them. “Have I not done good by The Grand Design?”

They nod, and you are exalted!... But then, in the mass of dark, robes figures emerges one. They cast off their hood, revealing Alhazred.
>>
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>>5137724

“Unprofessional,” he says. “Distracted.”

You glare at him, but another steps forward: Madame Mina, your Kamunu identity’s employer at The pretty Kitty Lounge & Brothel.

“Disloyal,” she says. “Seditious.”

Wait… Mina? What is she doing here? Surely she should be captured and sacrificed by this mass of Reptilians? But they do no such thing.

Two more figures step forwards, holding hands. They remove their hoods with their free hands, revealing Edwin and Paula.

“Liar,” Edwin says, quietly, eyes full of betrayal.

“Manipulator,” agrees Paula. “Abuser.”

You are struck dumb for a moment, feeling their pain as if your own… But you muster yourself, rallying.

“Yes,” you snap. “Obviously! All that and more, in service to The Dark Gods Below and Beyond! In service to The Grand Design of the Serpent priests! In service to the… The Master Race, you stupid surface-mammals!”

But then, the Dark Gods fade from view, and the Serpent priests step forward. You realize that, oddly, they to are hooded, and masked… And when their masks come of you see familiar, distinctly non-Reptilian faces: Tokunbo, the Aardan occultist who taught lady Zivic. Lady Zivic herself, former host and ally to The Incubus. Estellia, your rival exotic dancer at The Pretty Kitty, who you slew in the sewers to keep your secret. And… Irinnile.

“In service to foreigners and devils,” Tokunbo suggests, stroking his chin.

“What?” you balk. “No, I use them to—”

“In service to yourself, to your passions and fantasies,” says Estellia sadly. “In service to hedonism.”

“I…” you hesitate to speak.

“In service to revenge, and bloodlust, and personal power,” says Lady Zivic, in the voice of The Incubus. “In service of procrastination, and personal ambition.”

“I am working as swiftly as can!” you protest. “Look at all that I have discovered, all that I have done!”

“For me.”

You turn and face Irinnile now., who smiles lovingly and stretches her arms out to you, beckoning you into an embrace—a bond of bodies and souls.

“In service, she says, “to me."
>>
>>5137726

You awaken suddenly, a cry of protest n your lips to the dim light of incoming evening.


‘Hotstuff?’ Irinnile asks. ‘Lispy? Babe? You okay?’

You have slept through the afternoon! You have wasted a least a solid six hours—an unacceptable amount of time for any proper Reptilian to engage in torpor at the best of times.

‘Well, I mean, you’re also half-hum—’

“I. Am. Reptilian.”

Irnnile doesn’t contradict you, but you can sense her concern… And you, too, can feel hers.

‘Babe, do you… Like, wanna’ talk about it?’

‘No time,’ you reply sternly. ‘We have a meeting to attend.’

You get your blue, temperature-resistant robe on once more and hurriedly make your way through Hawksong’s streets. It is almost fully nighttime when you arrive at the site of your meeting: the abandoned building where you sacrificed the goat, created your charm, and mustered mystic might against lady Zivic and The Tower Inquisition. This evening, the sacrificial goats before you are more human-shaped: Inquisitor Felman, Magus Auctor Federigo, and Assistant Chimericist Mayhew. All three have their potential uses… But some far less than others, and Irinnile remains depleted, her <WANT> an intense ache in your skull and your loins alike.

“There is something we must discuss,” Felman says seriously. “A development in the investigation.”

You press a finger to his lips, and he flinches but does not recoil, just looking confused.

“Give me a moment,” you say.

Who do you dispose of? [choose at least one, or as many as all three]
>Felman, as soon as he is done with his report, for he has proven dangerous and strong-willed
>Magus Auctor Federigo—such a highly-placed pawn is more likely to be found out if he acts unusually
>Mayhew—he is just a laboratory assistant

How do you dispose of them?
>A sacrifice to the Dark Gods to display loyalty and fealty
>Succubus satiation—you will milk them for mana and leave them empty of life
>Brutally, tearing them apart with dagger, claws, and teeth—you will take out your frustrations upon them
>Write-in
>>
>>5137727
This will backfire on us anons, mark my words.
>Mayhew—he is just a laboratory assistant
Keep Felman and Federigo as useful tools.

>Succubus satiation—you will milk them for mana and leave them empty of life
As much as I want to sacrifice Mayhew in the name of the Dark Gods, we need our WANT sorted out.

Also, the point I saw in consorting with demons and devils is to provide an additional layer of cover for the Reptilian Conspiracy. We'll sacrifice a more important mage to them later on, we need to prevent this mess from implicating the Grand Design.
>>
>>5137727
>Mayhew—he is just a laboratory assistant
>Magus Auctor Federigo—such a highly-placed pawn is more likely to be found out if he acts unusually
>Succubus satiation—you will milk them for mana and leave them empty of life

These human dreams are full of paranoia and a shameful display of weakness. No wonder true reptilians don't have that shit.
>>
>>5137727
>Mayhew—he is just a laboratory assistant

>A sacrifice to the Dark Gods to display loyalty and fealty

aaaiiieeee dark god samas I kneel
>>
>>5137727
>Mayhew—he is just a laboratory assistant
>Succubus satiation—you will milk them for mana and leave them empty of life

>Magus Auctor Federigo—such a highly-placed pawn is more likely to be found out if he acts unusually
>A sacrifice to the Dark Gods to display loyalty and fealty

One for the Dark Gods and one for the succubi, as a treat
>>
Not to be overly autistic on this, but could we not put Federigo on the chopping block here? Mayhew I can understand, though I disagree that killing him won't cause problems (because it will), but Federigo would actually be useful in obfuscating the investigation, and keeping tabs on the other research departments (herbology being of great interest to our drug business), not to mention that a sudden death of a high ranking mage will be investigated, and we don't need another investigation on our plate to deal with.

Just some thoughts on the subject before anons vote for bloodlust anyway.
>>
[We seem to have a tie between Mayhew and Mayhew/Federigo. If we have no break, I will roll to see what Federigo's fate is later tonight.]
>>
>>5137727
>Mayhew—he is just a laboratory assistant

We'll sacrifice the higher ranked mage later, after we avert this crisis in the making.
>>
>>5137727
>>5138451
>Succubus satiation—you will milk them for mana and leave them empty of life.
Just to prevent a tie, though we will need to rectify this with a sacrifice to the Dark Gods later while we're not under the gun.
>>
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>>5138462
>>5138451
>>5138048
>>5137826
>>5137811
>>5137775

You will listen to Felman in a moment, but first, you have… Needs. Well, Irinnile ahs needs, which you share. Your dream comes to mind again—just a flash, but enough that you can feel Irinnile squirm at your own recollections and your misgivings about the parallel…

But no. Irinnile serves you, not the other way around, and you serve The Grand Design. This entire enterprise is just to acquire fuel for the ectoplasmic parasites that will allow you to piously enact your masters’ will, and to thus advance the cause of the Reptilian Master Race!

Whatever the truth of the matter, you drag Myahew into another room. You shove the hapless, fresh-faced young mage against a wall and, trying not to think too much about your motivations or the sensations your empathic link elicits, you drop to your knees and give the chaste young virgin a first time to remember…

<WANT: 18>

And then, infuriatingly unsatisfied and sopping with a thrill you cannot deny, you see him off with a bang.

<WANT: 16>

You take you time, truly savoring the sensation of his previously-pure soul being sullied, and his mana—his very self!—pouring into you. With your hands, Irinnile gropes your chest; when you bite your lips, it is as if Irinnile is doing it. You can practically see her, a hovering spectre of red energy before your minds eye, and you can feel her caresses with every push of your hips back against Mayhew’s helpless thrusts. Her whispered encouragements drown out his more tangible whimpers and whines as you execute him in a manner so blissful it wraps back around to agony. It gets to the point that your mental control of him breaks under the strain of his own self-preservation…


But you are too strong with his stolen mana. He is too little, and too late. Before long, Mayhew is no more.

‘See?’ Irinnile says softly, a warm presence snuggled against your inner-self. ‘We’re so good together… Doing your job, serving your gods, feeding, fucking… There’s no need ta’ get all bent outta’ shape, amirite?’

Your anxiety is dulled by the afterglow of the morbid experience, the grim reality of what your succubus-affected self has become briefly blotted out by lust and bloodlust alike. Besides, she raises a good point, you suppose. This is… Work-related debauchery. No different than your cover identity as Kamunu.

You take a moment to adjust your clothing, to regain your composure, and then to stride back into the room where Federigo and Felman wait. Felman looks… Fascinated, but in a horrified way, the fascination of an alchemist discovering a new means to poison and destroy. Federigo’s bearded, wizened face is scrunched up, eye squinted, as if trying to will himself away from this place—from you. You pat the Magus Acutor’s face kindly. He, too, is too late…
>>
>>5138820

<WANT: 17>

With a kiss, you embrace him into the fold, sealing his doom with a deposited glob of ectoplasm. You wipe a bit of inky black from his lips and beard, holding his frail form steady as the convulsions take him… And then Magus Auctor Federigo, too, is one of your puppets.

“What would you have me do, my darling?” he asks dreamily.

Hm. Unexpected. It seems where Felman views you as a superior, and Henzler as a benefactor of research, Federigo views you… Romantically, or at least with great fondness. Each mind crafts its own rationalization for following your sinister instructions.

“Clean up my messss,” you instruct, nodding towards what is left of Mayhew in the other room.

“And then?” he asks. “Anything, name it!”
>Federigo is to meet you at the farmhouse
>Federigo is to further sully the Tower investigation
>Federigo is to observe the Archmage and other high-ranking mages and to report to you as required
>Federigo is to funnel herbological resources to you to advance your drug enterprise
>Write-in
>>
>>5138826
With the Magus Auctor thoroughly ‘tricked out’, there is still Felman to deal with. Inquisitor Felman has been waiting, patiently, standing at attention for some time. With a bemused smile, you give him permission to speak.

“What hass happened with the invessstigation?” you ask.

“Two major developments have occurred,” he says. “The Inquisition has determined that several Southerners were behaving suspiciously, and were at the Gala with false papers and under assumed identities. This is being investigated, though none of them have yet been located and none of the Tower staff tasked with staffing and supervision, nor the guests to whose entourage they were said to belong to, can say where they have gone.”

Good. The other Degenerates have no doubt gone to ground, or left town entirely. Well… Except the infiltrator called Chika, of course. They will, sadly, never find Chika.

“Secondly, we—the Inquisition, that is—we have been forced to… Accept aid.”

“Aid?” you ask, raising an eyebrow. “Aid from whom?”

“The Paladins,” he says with a sour expression.

‘Oh,’ Irinnile says. ‘Oh fuck.’

Oh fuck INDEED. The Paladins are a small corps, as you understand it, but each of them is said to be a warrior with access to great skill, to be outfitted with blessings and with holy arms, and armaments, and each senior member has a gryphon mount. You’ve also heard rumours of nobility getting special treatment, and of nepotism, so perhaps some tales overstate things… But the Paladin King and his father achieves their great fame and wide base of power by SOME means. These paladins, they are a grave threat to demons, and more terrifying even than owlbears to one such as you.

“They have gifted us Sir Chase,” Inquisitor Felman continues, “a young and, so they say, gallant member of their gryphon corps. He is liaison, and he is tasked hunting down and destroy the escaped demons. King Archos has demanded it. Further Paladins have been assigned to safeguard the Palace and the Tower.”

You remember a brief encounter early in your stay in Hawksong—no, at the gates, prior to arrival! A somewhat-blandly handsome human on a terrifying cat-bird-monster, in shiny silver armour and with an eye for peasant girls. Yes, Sir Chase…

“Have they found any of them?” you ask.

Felman hesitates, then answers :”I don’t know. I was attending to my orders, and then… Here, awaiting instructions.”

Well, this is a dangerous twist. What do you do?
>Summon Siz-Gamid to you, and ask her for the location of the other demons
>Send Felman to steer Sir Chase away from any useful avenues while you seek out the demons
>Go to this Paladin, Chase, and end his threat yourself
>Abandon the demons—let the Tower and Paladins hunt them, you have done what you need to do and the pact is not your primary concern
>Write-in
>>
>>5138826
>Federigo is to further sully the Tower investigation
>Federigo is to observe the Archmage and other high-ranking mages and to report to you as required
>Federigo is to funnel herbological resources to you to advance your drug enterprise

>>5138828
>Summon Siz-Gamid to you, and ask her for the location of the other demons
>Send Felman to steer Sir Chase away from any useful avenues while you seek out the demons

This is where the fun begins...
>>
>>5138826
>Federigo is to observe the Archmage and other high-ranking mages and to report to you as required
>Summon Siz-Gamid to you, and ask her for the location of the other demons
This could've already been done.
>>
>>5138826
>Federigo is to further sully the Tower investigation

start with this, the more we have him do the shitter he'll do everything

>Send Felman to steer Sir Chase away from any useful avenues while you seek out the demons
>>
>>5138943
>>5139140
>>5139177
You send the Magus Auctor and Inquisitor alike to go forth and mislead the investigators—chase included. Federigo takes the high road, and Felman the low: Federigo is to observe the more highly-placed leaders of the Tower, while casting aspersions upon the Aardans and other Southlanders whenever the opportunity presents itself; Felman is to actively suppress evidence where he finds it, and to plant evidence to lead the agents astray. Best of all, Inquisitor Felman has been assigned to the same operation as this Paladin, Chase, which will make him a perfect tool to keep the bright and shiny human champion away from your activities!

As for what those activities are… Well, you are going to summon Siz-Gamid. The former demonic jailer—sometimes a blonde woman with glasses, sometimes a frog-like abomination which belches toxic gas and can crush stone—is the only one of the demons whose True Name is known to you, and thus the only one you can summon. And without your pack (still in Tower possession, unless Edwin took it with him), there is only one person you know with access to the space, knowledge, and material to assist in such a summoning.

‘The Incubus?’ Irinnile suggests.

…Well, maybe two, but Lord Bianchi is who you had in mind, for he is also your thrall.

You arrive at the Bianchi manor as the sun is nearly setting; you suppose, ruefully, that there is little chance of making your shift at The Pretty Kitty tonight. The manor is a well-maintained but somewhat stagnant realm of half-fallen nobility, presiding over by Lord Bianchi, who is representative of much the same. He is a black-clad and sunken-eyed young nobleman, disillusioned with his king and his society, always feeling wronged and held back even as he dwells in idle opulence, and (as you know, and have used to your advantage) he has sought occult solutions to replicate family artefacts and recover a lost glory that is all in their past, but which weighs on his mind and insults his ego. You announce yourself to his servants and, dutiful mesmer-slave that he is, Bianchi takes walking-sick in hand and limps to meet you.

“Ismena,” he greets you. “To what do I owe the—”

“The basssement,” you whisper in hushed tones, accompanying it with a twinge of magical suggestion.

Immediately, the man’s expression shifts to one of placidity, and he hobbles into his home. You follow, as he takes you down to the repurposed wine cellar which, locked and stocked with appropriate forbidden tomes and black candles, has served as his base of demonological studies and attempted summonings.
>>
>>5139626
‘Ah, memories~’ sighs Irinnile, still trying to calm your suspicions and anxieties about her—to overcome your dream, and the misgivings which gave rise to it.

You set Bianchi to task, describing the great, bloated manifestation of the demon which you now seek to summon, and the abilities you witnessed.

“A physical description is not as helpful as you might imagine,” the noble-born occultist tells you, leaning on his cane. “Most demons can appear in virtually any guise, limited only by certain constraints and preferences, or molded by the summoner and the summoning conditions. To a commoner from the hills, a succubus may look like a favourite ewe, one imagines.”

You frown. “And the name ‘Siz-Gamid’ means nothing to you?”

“If I had access to more true-names, the… Incidents which led to my present state might not have—”

“Yes, or no?” you snap. “Succinct answers.”

“No.”

You sigh. “Well… The demon seemed tired. Lethargic. Unenthusiastic. A demon of sloth?”

Bianchi leans his weight off of his bad leg and contorted spine—the product of your interference in his last, unauthorized demon-summoning ritual.

“That, that IS more useful… Alright.”

The nobleman sets to work with chalk—a task you regrettably must aid in rather than lording over, given how difficult it is for him to bend and twist since you toppled a bookshelf upon him. When all is said and done, you have a lattice suitable to summon Siz-Gamid—or so you hope.

“I am not confident that this will contain the demon,” Bianchi advises solemnly. “It will bring it to us, but not bind it to our will.”

“I understand,” you say. You can only hope a sense of indebtedness will do the trick, or common cause, or your affiliation with the ‘greater demon’ who set you upon this task.
>>
>>5139630
“Very well,” Bianchi says.

He takes up a black tome and begins a dark chant. Outside, it is night, black as pitch save for glittering stars—a night of the new moon. A night for shadows, and demons, and withcraft… And not for Paladins, one hopes. You aid Bainchi’s effort, patrolling the circle with a musty, smoky sort of candle in both hands, adding your murmurs to his higher chanting, like a background signer. Eventually, your efforts bear fruit: a shape begins to manifest in a bowl of fetid water which Bianchi has set at the circle’s centre: a blob of organic matter begins to grow, and to swell. The water evaporates away into a cloud of noxious air, and that miasma swirls about like a sinister halo as the blob grows, and bones jut forth at odd angles. Eventually, at long last, it expands and rolls out into a familiar, blue-green form: Siz-Gamid, in full battle readiness…

Save, you note, for a blood wound across its abdomen, which one of its size oversized limbs clasps.

“Careful!” Bianchi cries as you step towards Siz-gamid.
>>
>>5139632
The demon wheels on you, huge maw gaping open to reveal several rows of slicing and crushing teeth. Toxic fumes threaten to gush forth, but stop whe the demon’s ebady eyes seem to recognize you.

“…From the Tower,” Siz-Gamid speaks, in a voice unnervingly like that of a calm young human woman—the woman this demon appeared to be when first you encountered it.

“What happened?” you ask.

“A Paladin,” the demon growls.

Your eyes widen. This… Sir Chase? Already?

Siz-Gamid relates its tale of woe: of how, once freed from bondage, it parted ways with the other demons you liberated. Sadly, this slothful creature did not bother to keep tabs upon them now that it was no longer a magically-enforced duty, but Siz-Gamid knows those you freed, and believes that they will have done as it did and traveled to a hiding place according to their nature.

“Where did your nature lead you?” you ask. You half-suspect, from its manifestation and the means of summoning, a pond or sewer.

“To the Library,” Siz-Gamid answers.

Huh. Unexpected.

“I actually… Quite like reading,” the demon explains. “I had little else to do, when the Demonologist Pavlov was my master. So, I sheltered in there during the day – we are night creatures, after all. However, I became absorbed in a book and didn’t notice when the mages and their knight entered. Only when I sensed the Paladin’s gaze upon me did I look up… But by then, I had been found out. I hurried to leave, for it was dark, but no matter the lead I gains or the twists and turns I took, they followed. I don’t think they sought me out, but somehow, once they were there, that damn Paladin knew what I was, and—”

“—And the Tower Inquisition has access to enchanted glasses which can lock upon and track a target.”

“I see,” whispers Siz-Gamid. “Then that is how they found me… And wounded me, with blessed silver-steel that damaged my very True Self…”

Lord Bianchi is too dazed and dulled by your command to exclaim in outrage as he might otherwise, but you know what this means: they have locked onto Siz-Gamid, and you have brought their quarry here, to the Bianchi estate.

‘Oh shit, oooooh fuck,’ Irinnile begins to panic.

What do you do?
>Banish Siz-Gamid quickly, and hope they lose the trail
>Give Siz-Gamid your charm to suppress the demon’s essence enough to hide it from the Inquisition
>Hurriedly attempt to summon the rest of the demons with Siz-Gamid’s assistance, to meet them in force
>Slay Bianchi, set fire to this place, and flee with Siz-Gamid to the farmhouse
>Head out to intercept and ambush the Paladin and Inquisitors en route—darkness is your ally, and they do not expect you!
>Write-in
>>
>>5139634
>Banish Siz-Gamid quickly, and hope they lose the trail

I'd be pretty shocked if the glasses can even track being summoned, but just in case we should banish before they can pinpoint. Arrange a mundane meetup spot real quick.
>>
>>5139634
>Banish Siz-Gamid quickly, and hope they lose the trail
>Head out to intercept and ambush the Paladin and Inquisitors en route—darkness is your ally, and they do not expect you!

So, how bad is Sir Chase? We talking Head Research Mage level bad or somewhere between that and normal? I'm starting to low-key panic over this.
>>
>>5139748
>how bad is Sir Chase?
[You don't know, never having really gathered much intel on the Paladins and only having briefly interacted with him in Thread 1. You know he had a wingless gryphon and, apparently, an intuition for sensing demons and a dangerous holy (?) sword.]
>>
>>5139634
>Banish Siz-Gamid quickly, and hope they lose the trail

>>5139690
I don't think those glasses give a shit if target moved by an inch or two miles from its previous location.
If we banish her quickly enough, they might hopefully not have the X and Y coordinates pinned down, but will probably search every house in the direction of the mark.

>>5139754
We no longer have the glasses, do we?
>>
>>5139754
Problem is, we really don't have any non-demonic disposable assets we can throw at them (on account of us killing them all), and fighting them solo just seems really risky. Realistically we have two options, lead to the farmhouse and ambush them all with our non-demonic forces there, or try and pick off his entourage stealthily before dealing with the man himself. We should've had the imp pick up our armor, I'm so pissed we forgot about it.

Since we have a psychic link with Henzler, she should be able to tell us the strengths and weaknesses of Chase's cat-bird-monster, correct?

>>5139783
Not if we can distract them with something more immediate. They're searching for the demons after all, not the occultists (yet).

Also, Felman should've been reissued his glasses, all he needs is to tag Chase and we should be able to find him again, preferably when he's alone and asleep. Or we can try and seduce Chase, but I honestly don't know where the line where his demon detection ends and our charm suppression begins, so that isn't the wisest course of action.
>>
>>5139807
>Not if
Pretty sure he had enough time to move his neck as we talked to Siz. It doesn't take a trained demon-killer that long to figure out a demon went poof and he has to figure out where it came next.
>Killing Chase
Are you trying to find a way out of this situation or get the entire griffucker army on our ass, anon?
>Felman
WE need those are our glasses first and foremost, anon.
>>
>>5139783
If true then those glasses are OP, to be able to keep tracking targets even through planar shifts. Lets hope they're not so OP they can identify Bianchi's manor as the new location within a few minutes.
>>
>>5139827
Yea, but unless the glasses can triangulate our position immediately (which would be OP), then he'll only have a direction to go off of, not a specific address number. And if he's distracted raiding every home in one direction trying to find a demon, we can locate the others that he doesn't have a bead on.

Trying to find a way out of this mess, he's trying to kill our demons and if we ever come into direct contact and he recognizes us as a demon, we are royally fucked. It doesn't help that I think we should deal with the Archmage situation before that becomes unmanageable as well.
>>
>>5139861
>OP
They do unless OP says they don't.
>direction
All he needs to do is scratch a line on the pavement, run several or a hundred, he has a griffon tho meters and then scratch another and he no longer needs glasses. I would deadass do that the moment Siz disappeared if I was in his shoes.
>our demons
Nobody's demons if they get found, lol. I actually want to go back to Incubus to figure out what to do next. Sadly we still owe him this pact for keeping the dragonborn.
>>
>>5139882
>>5139783
>the glasses
[Yours are still in your bag (forgot about them last thread, but they wouldn't have been overly useful in that dungeoncrawl anyway), and your bag is either at the Tower or MAYBE with Edwin.]

[They don't triangulate positions or provide addresses -- they just point you in a direction towards a locked target. They have a finite range and are probably blocked by certain materials... But you'd need to ask a Tower mage to get more specifics on maximum distance or exact weaknesses.]
>>
>>5139882
The glasses can't be sci-fi levels of fantasy lad, and triangulation the address would require other magical infrastructure set in place and connected to the magical equivalent of wifi. This just isn't that type of fantasy.

Even if he was paranoid and on the ball like that, that would require him to assume that we would remain at that fixed point for it to work (which he has no reason to), and it would take time he could've spent hightailing it directly to us. This is also discounting any damage and exhaustion the paladin and mages received from such a high octane chase and fight with Sid. The mages aren't known for their cardio, after all.
>>
Rolled 6, 1, 3, 2, 18, 10 = 40 (6d20)

>>5139690
>>5139748
>>5139783

“I’m sssorry,” you say.

“…For what?” asks the demons.

Siz-Gamid had been surveying the room with curiosity, but now they settle once more upon you.

“Lord Bianchi,” you say, “prepare a banishment.”

“What? No!”

Th demon’s protest turn into a roar, as you dodge a great fist.

“We will ssummon you later!” you try to reassure the hellbound beast.

“Yeah, and if you don’t? If I’m summoned by another first, bound for another ten years to some human’s idiotic commands?!”

“Bianchi,” you hiss, “hurry!”

Perhaps it is the dullness of mind which accompanies your enthrallments. Perhaps it is the enormous, toadlike hexapod thrashing about his basement, charging at you. Whatever the case, Lord Bianchi is having trouble focusing, leaving you to stall for time and to hold the infuriated sloth-demon’s attention. The longer he takes, the more likely the Paladin and his Inquisitor allies will locate you!

‘Plus, we might get flattened,’ Irinnile points out.

There is also that, you suppose.

[4d20 for melee combat to evade attacks, 2d20 for Bianchi's efforts to banish Siz-Gamid.]

First I missss the hisss this morning, then I miss the dice. I'm off my game, I swear
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>>5140491
>1

You are so focused on protecting and diverting attacks from Bianchi that you fail to defend yourself. Perhaps you’ve just gotten sued to easily healing your injuries? However, as the demon’s fist smashes into your torso and pins you to the wall, you know that there will be no easy regeneration of this. You feel a dozen oblong spikes across Siz-Gamid’s knuckles perforate you—magical weapons, for al intents and purposes. Your bones crack, your guts are crushed and punctures, and you are helplessly pinned.

“I won’t go back!” Siz-Gamidd protests, its human voice breaking into a dual-toned bellow and shriek. “Not to the Hells, not to the lab! I’m free! I will REMAIN free!”

You attempt to speak—a negotiation tactic, a soothing word, a snarky reply, a threat?—but nothing more than a squeak and some bubbling blood emerge.

>18

Luckily, it is then that Bianchi finds his nerve, or at least the correct page. He begins a stammering chant, punctuated by a familiar name—a True Name—‘Siz-Gamid’. The demon recognizes what is about to happen, dropping you to fall to a heap on the stone floor of the converted wine cellar. You narrowly avoid a tumbling bookcase—

‘Heheheee, oh, that woulda’ been ironic, huh?’ notes Irinnile weakly, in what you hope isn’t quite GALLOWS humour.

—while the demon fails to avoid an allegorical bookcase of irony all its own: it is banished, reduced to foul blue-green mist inches away from utterly crushing Bianchi with its many limbs. Siz-Gamid is sent away by the same summoner who saved it from saintly slaughter.

“We never got thossse other True Namesss,’ you note, your voice a whisper that nealy dies before you can finish.

‘Babe,’ Irinnile says grimly, ‘we have bigger shit to worry about.’

“Bi…anchi… To me…” you weakly implore.

“I… I almost….” Bianchi murmurs, appearing stunned, not moving. Is it temporary, or did the near-death experience break your non-ectoplasmic control of him? No matter—it seems you must heal yourself.

<WANT: 18>

You begin the process of demonically-aided regeneration, but it is slow-going. You hope—and it can ONLY be hope, not certainty—that the Paladins didn’t catch Siz’s scent before you returned the devil to the Hell from whence it came. The longer you linger, the more time they have to, at the very least, destroy or capture the other demons you freed.

What do you do?
>Rest in the Bianchi estate until you can mend yourself—a process that could take hours
>Feed upon Bianchi to speed up your recovery—and hope you can control Irinnile despite your weakened state
>Ask Bianchi to send for help at this late hour [Felman? Edwin? The Incubus? Specify.]
>Move, damnit, MOVE! You can recover on the go, but you cannot remain HERE.
>Write-in
>>
>>5140511
>Move, damnit, MOVE! You can recover on the go, but you cannot remain HERE.

Feed on someone in an alley, we can't afford to waste more time. Also, that's like the third time that we've been on death's door in a fight, why do the Dice Gods hate us during melee combat? If this turns into another Felman situation, swear I will keep Sid bound to Bianchi's commands for the rest of his life over this.
>>
>>5140511
>Rest in the Bianchi estate until you can mend yourself—a process that could take hours

With our luck, running now will lead us directly into the paladin.
>>
>>5140519
If it makes you feel better, you're not really on death's door.... So long as you heal before facing another formidable foe who has magic
>>
>>5140525
We don't have time, but we can have Bianchi grab a couple of street prostitutes for us to feed off of. We need to get back into the game as soon as possible.

>>5140527
So we are on death's door ;_;. Jokes aside (at least I hope I'm joking), it does make me feel better, so thanks QM.
>>
>>5140511
>Move, damnit, MOVE! You can recover on the go, but you cannot remain HERE.

>>5140525
>>5140529
We gotta call Felman, he might know how the glasses work, being an Inquisitor and all that.
>>
>>5140816
Honestly? I'm a bit tempted to stay a minute and recover our strength from prostitutes, get us up to tip top shape before running off and potentially meeting the paladins. I'm curious what you lads think on the idea.
>>
[Alas, I may too busy to post today. I will attempt but, worst case scenario, Reptilian Infiltrator Quest will return tomorrow.]
>>
>>5140816
>>5140525
>>5140519
You grit your teeth and force yourself to you feet.

“Lord Bianchi!” you command his attention at last.

“Wh-what?” he replies, blinking.

You sense your glamour is still upon him, of a little shaken. You're not sure it will hold permanently after such a shock… But for now, he is at least still positively-disposed towards you.

“Clean thisss place up,” you advise him. “You may have visssitorss ssoon. Paladinss and Inquissitorss.”

Bianchi's already pasty countenance pales, and he shuffles to action. Watching him struggle to lift and move the incriminating evidence while navigating about with aid of his cane, you wonder how much evidence of occultism the nobleman can truly hide if a gryphon-rider is indeed headed this way… But you cannot stay to help. If they ARE coming, and they find you in so weakened a state…

‘We’re dead,’ Irinnile concludes.

You have to agree, and so you clench your jaw, clutch your abdomen, and you abandon the Bianchi estate for the winding roads and garden pathways pf the surrounding manor-district.

You will not be here when the Paladins and Inquisitions identify Siz-Gamid’s most recent location. You will be…
>Somewhere dark and hidden, healing up and spying on the mages and Paladins through Felman’s eyes
>At Edwin and Fynn’s home, recovering somewhere you know it is safe
>With Mina at The Pretty Kitty—you might even grab a ‘snack’ in the form of a client
>Stalking the streets, seeking out vulnerable humans who might provide you healing nourishment with their lifeforce
>Fleeing Hawksong for the farmhouse—resummoning Siz-Gamid will have to be enough to meet your end of the pact
>Write-in
>>
>>5141080
>Stalking the streets, seeking out vulnerable humans who might provide you healing nourishment with their lifeforce

>>5140529
I don't know, don't want both our faces known. I wonder if we could find one on our own just to get enough energy for a visit in goblintown to use that one green onahole.
We could catch a breather for once and figure out this whole situation with Chase, Siz-Gamid and Bianchi's house. If our telepathy doesn't work, there's always the sneaky imp to zoom across the town and consult Felman.

Gotta say that Gamid acted utmost fucking retarded for a demon that's read tons of books. Probably the first time in this quest when we're fucked in the ass by something that was not a direct result of our own actions.
>>
>>5141080
>Stalking the streets, seeking out vulnerable humans who might provide you healing nourishment with their lifeforce

God, I hope we haven't made another mistake leaving Bianchi alone with the Paladins. We already have too much shit on our plate to deal with already.

>>5141030
Good on you for posting today, and don't worry if you're too busy with RL to focus on QMing, we'll still be here!

>>5141084
I can understand the issue with anonymity, we should switch faces to help us in that department if the worst case comes to pass. I wouldn't mind making our way to Goblintown if not for the time-sensitive nature of the situation we're in. We need the demons corralled, Chase indisposed of, and confirmation that the Archmage isn't exploring the Reptilian angle in all of this. God, what a clusterfuck this cleanup mission is turning into.

I agree, Sid was acting overly emotional when we're trying to help us both out. Despite seriously wounding us, I do think she'll be more useful to us as a servant than as the Incubus' muscle. I do wonder what occult knowledge she accumulates as a consequence of being under Pavlov's thumb, and she must have a wealth of other useful knowledge we could tap into, assuming anons are up to utilize it.
>>
>>5141080
>Somewhere dark and hidden, healing up and spying on the mages and Paladins through Felman’s eyes
>>
>>5141116
>Bianchi with Paladins
I am too tired to even care at this point. We can't even agree to assume the worst and stay safe, let alone think outside the box to save Bianchi and his place, if they actually know where to look.
>We already have too much shit on our plate to deal with already.
Don't worry, there is more waiting after we're done dealing with our current hand.
>we should switch faces
Was gonna say, but Irinnile might actually get out of hand now, according to what QM wrote. That's why I wanted to drain someone lightly and then bounce while we have fumes to run on.
>time-sensitive nature of the situation we're in
What exactly do you intend to do? Then, how do you imagine doing it after Irinnile has been pushed to her limits for nearly 24h and we just got stabbed?
Frankly, I think we should back the fuck off, find a book and use our thrall contacts to learn about the game we're playing currently. Get some fundamental understanding of what we're dealing with, figure out how to funnel the demons to farmhouse safely, how to find them.
Unless we want to just blindly go against Chase when each of us has no idea what to expect, each has their own solution in mind, different assumptions, is ignoring different details?
>Reptilian Conspiracy
Weren't you the one who said it doesn't matter if anything gets out because a single retard can't ruin muh millenia of reptilian planning and the grand conspiracy wouldn't be so grand if it could crumble because of one agent? You know, back when I did everything I could to make Ismena cut loose ends and you didn't like it? That'd be pretty funny.
>Demons
The demons can't be collected now, not when we are running around with blue balls and Chase is fucking about the city in search for the same demons we are and we don't even knoe how to find them. Just make sure Incubus knows we'll be late with delivery, as I'm sure he already knows about Chase himself.

Again, most of this shit can't be done by us or doesn't require us in person to be accomplished, it's a perfect moment to fuck off and do networking. And recharge.
>>
>>5141159
>What exactly do you intend to do?
Drain a couple people to death and move on our next objective, there's no two ways about it.
>Frankly, I think we should back the fuck off
Can't do that, we'll lose more demons, and the Dragonborn's secrecy is based off that deal.
>Unless we want to just blindly go against Chase when each of us has no idea what to expect, each has their own solution in mind, different assumptions, is ignoring different details?
That's this quest in a nutshell mate. It seems like we either get a fuzzy half-plan of what we're doing, or we just balls-to-the-wall wing it. I'm not saying it's ideal, but it seems to be all we're capable of doing.
>Reptilian Conspiracy
Frankly, I don't know what you going on there, that sounds like Dame Albacete's point of view to me. From my perspective, it seems to me that I was trying to come up with clean solutions for our loose ends, and the murder-autism directly lead to more problems in the Tower's investigation. It's a bit of a moot point now though. If you want to know my current thoughts, I think us letting the Reptilian Conspiracy slip out into the Tower's Leadership though our inaction is just messy on our part. We're an infiltrator damnit, not an informant.
>Demons
The demons need to be collected now, and not just because Chase is chasing (heh) them down. We need to be free of distraction to deal with the Archmage situation, should it turn tits up, and trying to play Pokémon Go with demons is a large distraction.
>Again, most of this shit can't be done by us or doesn't require us in person to be accomplished
How do you figure that? How are we supposed to find the demons before Chase does if we fuck off to network?
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>>5141245
>drain whores
I was asking about Chase, anon. We can't just clap the faggot cause then we will have a whole squadron going after us. Assuming we can even kill him.
>Can't do that, we'll lose more demons, and the Dragonborn's secrecy is based off that deal.
Just one fucking day to rest and get intel. It's not possible for him to track and kill them ALL in ONE DAY.
>That's this quest in a nutshell mate.
That's the problem, yeah.
Also the reason why instead of winging/planning, I just think meta and try to pick choices that will lock Ismena down a certain path/place so there is no coming back.
God it was frustrating before QM calibrated and stopped giving people opportunities to fuck things up right before the execution.
>Murder autism
Sounds like you invented yourself a scapegoat, anon. The actual event that led to "more problems with Tower's investigation" was trying to rescue Roth and burning a cult chapel down. And it was at that point that we made peace with Incubus.
IIrc you used that idea of grand undefeatable conspiracy as an argument after we got rid of the too-much-knowing fox.
>Demons Demons Demons
Again, we need a day to recover and gather information to actually be able to counteract Chase.
Meanwhile you want to justify slaughtering a bunch of whores on a whim and going full metal retard with half the fuel at best and no idea about the enemy likely worse than Pavlov, because... other anons wing shit. So now we must go on a fucking crusade, because you claim there is absolutely no way we can stop for a moment, properly heal, try to learn about the threat we're dealing with. There is no way he won't kill all the demons while we're gone, and when he does... the pact will be broken and that will make Incubus do... what, exactly?
Even if the things went so bad that we couldn't deliver on our end of the pact, there is no punishment for that and Incubus has no indication that Chase is finished. If he knew where the demons were, he would've gotten them himself.
You made this whole insane time pressure up and we could beeline for his HQ to update our terms of service for all I care.
>How do you figure that?
I said most things, not the one I specifically said we shouldn't hastily do. We can get updates on the investigation, knowledge about Chase and glasses as well as control thralls without GOING EVERYWHERE ON FOOT.
>How are we supposed to find the demons before Chase does if we fuck off to network?
How are we supposed to find anything WITHOUT networking?
If you want to summon Siz-Dammit again, then we NEED to know about the glasses and get out of that fucker's tracking range ((>>5139904))
Unless, of course, you have an idea how to find the demons without her help. But you just said you don't. You're winging it.
>>
>>5141124
>>5141116
>>5141084
You grimace through the pain as you make your way back to the more populous, lower-class areas of the great surface city. Worst of all, you reflect with bitter humour, your beautiful golden dress is RUINED! Who could have anticipated that such a seemingly learned demon would throw a tantrum like a child? This whole debacle further sours your opinion on the denizens of the underworld.

‘Naw, I get it.’

You're surprised to hear Irinnile defend Siz-Gamid's actions, but she hastens to elaborate.

‘N-not stickin’ us like a pig and squishing up our ovaries and all that, don't get me wrong! I'm just sayin’… There’s a reason demons are so eager to make pacts and get themselves manifested. The Hells ain’t no picnic, especially for a lesser demon. Pacts, souls… If you’ve got currency, leverage, minions? Shit’s nice. But otherwise, the constant hunger, the miserableness of the whole damned place, and being at the mercy of the greater demons…’

Irinnile trails off, then simply murmurs, ‘I’d do almost anything to avoid that. And being enslaved ain’t much better.’

How do you respond?
>Sympathetically
>Critically
>Suspiciously
>You don’t—you’re busy

The next hours is spent hunting down a perfect mark. You continue to heal regardless, but at a much slower rate than if you had rested, and INFINITELY slower than if you had a proper mana-meal in you. Luckily, one such appetizer presents herself: a female human, scantily-attired and with gauche make-up covering a lightly-pockmarked face. Her demenaour, her attire, her location… It’s all very familiar to you. This is a prostitute, seeking a mark of her own. You’ve been there… But you have no time to empathize with surface apes.

You shift your face enough to hide your identity, pull your cloak close to your form to hide your wounds, and approach with easy smile and the promise of coin. If she is surprised at a female client, or unhappy, this woman cannot afford to show it. She leads you away from the torches of Hawksong’s thoroughfares, and into darkness.

‘Yessss!’ Irinnile enthuses, slavering with eagerness… With hunger.

You realize that you, too, haven’t eaten since the Gala.

Do you attempt to restrain Irinnile's more brutal impulses?
>Yes—let the human live
>No—feel fully, of mana and flesh alike
>Kill her—but no cannibalism
>Sent the woman away—this was a mistake

Once you are done here, what is your next course of action? It is after midnight already, but you are well-rested.
>Spy through a thrall’s eyes to determine the state of the investigation [whose?]
>Go dream-delving [target who?]
>Consult the Akashic Record of the Dark Gods to learn more about the likely whereabouts of the demons?
>Seek out the Paladin, Sir Chase, qnd end his threat now
>Report back to The Incubus, requesting additional time
>Try to locate your bag and your other equipment
>Write-in
>>
[Surprise midday update, since I had time and probably won't this evening. Cheers, all!]
>>
>>5141292
>Kill her—but no cannibalism

shits fucked up

>Try to locate your bag and your other equipment
>>
>>5141284
My plan for Chase? Get him while he's alone, asleep, or with his pants down, and find out about his chimera's strengths and weaknesses from Henzler. He needs to eat, shit, and sleep like the rest of us. With our luck though? We're probably gonna meet him with his mage squad around the next corner.
>Just one fucking day to rest and get intel. It's not possible for him to track and kill them ALL in ONE DAY.
By then, we'll be balls deep into whatever situation the Archmage has cooking up in his head, and I'd rather not be distracted be him and Chase at the same time. That's my reasoning on being proactive right now.
>Sounds like you invented yourself a scapegoat, anon.
>Also the reason why instead of winging/planning, I just think meta and try to pick choices that will lock Ismena down a certain path/place so there is no coming back.
Not to beat a dead horse here, but this is probably what I mean by murder autism. Nothing more final than death.
>Tower Investigation
I was referring the the murder autism the led to the Tower investigating our crimes in the first place, and each murder that fueled the investigation afterwards.
>the too-much-knowing fox
Foxy didn't know jack shit, you killed her outta of paranoia, plain and simple. I was aiming to turn her into our partner-in-crime for our more risky operations, because having a useful non-reptilian ally would've been immensely helpful, especially right now!
>Demons
Again, problem is that I don't think we have a day to rest without something else splitting our attention, and I prefer not to juggle our goals. Going full metal retard isn't as retarded, since Hawksong is going through a demon epidemic at the moment, so it'll probably fly under their radar as another demon attack, but the main reason why I want to suck the souls of prostitutes is so we can be at full health and a lowered WANT in case trouble finds us.
Quick sidebar, if we didn't eat Pavlov's soul and just made a pact with him, we would know all the demon true names already, thus making this mission less of a side hustle.
>the pact will be broken and that will make Incubus do... what, exactly?
Take the Dragonborn as collateral.
>You made this whole insane time pressure up and we could beeline for his HQ to update our terms of service for all I care.
I actually voted for a change of conditions, but I don't think we'll be able to change our pack without going on another mission on the Incubus' behalf, in addition to our current mission.
>GOING EVERYWHERE ON FOOT
I agree, walking on foot is a bitch.
>>
>>5141284
>If you want to summon Siz-Dammit again, then we NEED to know about the glasses and get out of that fucker's tracking range
I mean, we can probably summon all of the demons outside of Hawksong or near the border of Goblintown, but it'll require the knowledge and material on how to actually summon them, and that doesn't get rid of the Chase problem (though given our charm, it's probably more of the Incubus' problem than ours). As it relates to the glasses, couldn't we ask him that question through our psychic link?
>>
>>5141292
>Sympathetically
Sid does own us our expensive dress back though, we'll make it apart of our terms and conditions for giving her some autonomy back.

>Kill her—but no cannibalism
We'll grab a bite to eat somewhere else.

>Try to locate your bag and your other equipment
Make it a priority of a thrall at the Tower.
>Spy through a thrall’s eyes to determine the state of the investigation [whose?]
I ain't picky.

>Seek out the Paladin, Sir Chase, qnd end his threat now
Assult the paladin now! Assault the paladin now!

>>5141294
Nice! I hope you have a nice (if busy) day then RQM!
>>
>>5141292
>You don’t—you’re busy
>No—feel fully, of mana and flesh alike
Order a blackout from Irinnile, if possible. Not the first time this'd happen, but with how stubborn one anon here is, there's no way we can fucking stop to fucking EAT.
>Spy through a thrall’s eyes to determine the state of the investigation
Felman.
>Consult the Akashic Record of the Dark Gods to learn more about the likely whereabouts of the demons?

>>5141365
>With our luck though? We're probably gonna meet him with his mage squad around the next corner.
And that's why you wanna jump into this shit head-on and meet him with no preparations, gotcha.
>>
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Rolled 7, 6, 13, 9, 7 = 42 (5d20)

>>5141312
>>5141382
>>5142097

You don’t respond to Irinnile’s little speech, because a more urgent matter takes precedent. You’re on a mission, after all… Even if, just now, that mission incudes whoremongering.

The human prostitutes’ eyes widen as you approach with hungry eyes, panting like an animal in heat-or on the hunt. You grab handfuls of her—of her breasts, her hip. You feel her skin. Her flesh. Her meat…

No!

‘Feed upon her,’ you say to Irinnile, but with a caveat: ‘Her mana, NOT her flesh.’

Irinnile scoffs at your prudity, but quickly senses that you aren’t joking around.

‘That really makes ya’ all squicky, huh?’ Irinnile notes. ‘Ya’ know, it ain’t MY stomach that’s empty. I don’t even HAVE a stomach!’
>>
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>>5142168
>13
Your body and mind are weary and wounded, your stomach empty… And your proclivity to hedonism makes you vulnerable to Irinnile’s impulses. Your <WANT> is great, and the succubus knows how to sate it and your more physical hungers alike. You’re already killing and eating this human anyway, after a fashion, and you need to dispose of the body, so why NOT? Maybe you could just have a nibble…

>CLARITY

You feel the diadem’s energy vibrate and hum through your skull, through your soul. You snap out of your trance.

The prostitute in on the ground beneath you, her clothes torn away. The human female’s eyes are full of pleasure and pain, her gasps almost moans and almost screams. Yours hands, like talons, are sunk into her sweat-drenched body. Your lick your teeth, finding only razor-blade meant for slicing and cutting meat…

<WANT: 16>

You mercifully allow the woman to die, snatching up her soul’s energies to feed Irinnile, and you let the carcass fall away as you stand and shift your shape back towards normalcy.

‘I SAID no,’ you snap.

‘Lispy, babe, I tried, okay? I just—’

‘You just have no self-control,’ you interrupt.

Irinnile goes quiet, and you sigh. Te awkward slence that follows is only interrupted by your stomach’s insistent grumbling.

‘Come on, Irinnile says with forced cheer, ‘let’s hide a corpse and get you something to eat.’

You look down at the street-walker’s corpse, knowing that under other circumstances, not so long ago, that could have been you… And then, you do exactly that. You divvy the body up with you knife, freezing and breaking it apart with the blades magic and disposing of its components down nearby sewer manholes—garbage receptacles haven’t hidden this activity so well in the past, after all.

‘Alright!” Irinnile says as you wipe your hands clean on your already-bloodied and torn dress. ‘Where you do wanna’ go to eat?’

‘Not yet,’ you say. ‘There is still work to do.’
>>
>>5142187

‘Oh right,’ Irinnile says, ‘our shit!’

While darkness yet remains and Irinnile’s powers are at their fullest, you cast your senses from your body and into the aether of the dreamscape. You are not invading dream or spying on the sleeping surface-apes today, though—you instead slip into the mind of Lithobathius, the Tower Guardian, and stir him to action.

Watching through the heavyset mage’s eyes and directing his movements, you get him moving, and dressed in his robe. You send him forth on a mission of retrieval: to locate and obtain that bag of valuable and potentially-incriminating items which you left in the Tower’s custody, as they were checking yourself and the Engels into the Gala two nights prior…

But there is nothing there.

‘Ya’ don’t think the Tower seized it, do you?’ Irinnile suggests worriedly.

You scrunch your face with concentration, eyes still closed, as you direct the question along your psychic-occultic link with Tower Guardian Lithobathius… And you feel as he shakes his head in response.

‘Well, if they don’t have it…’ Irinnile begins.

‘…Edwin does,’ you finish, opening your eyes and releasing Lithobathius from your direct control.

What do you do?
>It’s time to pay Edwin a visit, for a breakfast date and to retrieve your things
>You need to get your things from the Engel manor, but you’ll do so stealthily—you aren’t ready to see Edwin yet
>Go get mooch food and clothing from Agatha Johan, your seamstress friend, just like old times
>Get some food and rest at The Pretty Kitty, and lay low there while you plan your next move
>Write-in
>>
>>5142188
>Get some food and rest at The Pretty Kitty, and lay low there while you plan your next move
or
>You need to get your things from the Engel manor, but you’ll do so stealthily—you aren’t ready to see Edwin yet

Don't need more fucking distractions now.
>>
>>5142188
>It’s time to pay Edwin a visit, for a breakfast date and to retrieve your things

Might as well face this music
Spiriting it away and talking later will only make it worse for future us.
>>
>might as well make the clusterfuck bigger, this surely won't turn into fynn and edwin bothering our ass into oblivion and us getting nothing done
foxanon was right
>>
>>5142251
>foxanon was right

Thank you.

Anyways, breakfast with Edwin may not be a bad idea. We get to feed ourselves, we get to feed our WANT more, and get our things along with a new dress. Really, the only thing that's holding me back is the awkward, distracting talk Edwin may want to have afterwards about all of this. Now, I don't know if completing three minor objectives in one timespan would be worth the awkward distraction that would be explaining shit, but controlling the narrative before we're ready to be more open with Edwin may be worthwhile, or we can probably distract him and dance our way around the subject as we eat our fill (both ways) and get our shit all in one go. Think it's worth it?
>>
>>5142697
[May want to vote one way or the other soon to break the tie, if you want an update at the regular time.]
>>
>>5142908
Ah fuck, I'm not good with conflicting goals. Going by gut feeling,
>It’s time to pay Edwin a visit, for a breakfast date and to retrieve your things
But with the caveat of dreamdelving Edwin beforehand to lay in a suggestion to not pry and let us explain in our own time. Hell, make him excited to tell us about something he recently learned as a distraction. I want to meet, eat, and fuck him, but not have to explain ourselves until our shit is fully taken care of, you feel me?

Also, make sure we take of and hide our torn dress before we meet Edwin. I don't want him worrying over nothing.
>>
>>5142963
>>5142244
>>5142251

You’ve put it off as long as you can, it seems: you must pay Edwin a visit. Well… Maybe that’s not quite right. You WANT to. It’s not just to get your things: you want to have breakfast with him, to reassure him that you’re alright, and to make sure that he is also.

‘And maybe to get some of the mana-loaded cream all up in us?’ Irinnile asks hopefully.

You studiously ignore her, instead setting about tidying yourself up. You don’t want to worry to poor silly male over nothing, and so you regrettably must dispose of your golden dress—perhaps the single nicest piece Agatha Johan has yet made for you. It saddens you to throw it away but, soiled by several bloody battles and now torn apart by Siz-Gamid’s bone-studded fist, it has served you for the last time. You lay it to rest with the corpse of the prostitute you slew, and sadly watch it wash away.

With this matter attended to, you set to work preparing for a dream-delving expedition, to get your human pet in the right mood to receive you… But you find your efforts stymied. As you enter the necessary meditative state, you find it incredibly difficult to separate your astral form from your physical. At first you’re uncertain as to why but, as you open your eyes, it becomes apparent: dawn’s first light is cresting over the parapets and rooftops of Hawksong.

“May the sun be damned,” you mutter in the True Speech. Then, in Northern Common-tongue: “Fuck!”

‘You tell ‘em,’ Irinnile cheers you on bemusedly, with a mischievous giggle. She stops when she senses your ire.

Well, there’s nothing for it, you suppose. You uncross your legs, stand, stretch in greeting to that most-accursed sun, and you set out to meet Edwin. Beneath your enchanted cloak, you use Irinnile’s abilities to manifest a leather dress from shapeshifted skin—red and black, the colours most natural to the demon within.

‘Don’t worry, babe, we look fucking HOT!’

‘We’re clashy,’ you reply sullenly.

It takes you almost two hours on foot to reach the Engel manor. Perhaps carriage-rides have spoiled you, or perhaps the last few days have just been especially exhausting, but walking everywhere seems an utter chore to you this day, and you’re glad for it to be over and done with. When you reach the gate, it is welcome respite.
>>
>>5142995
However, that sense of relief is short-lived. You can sense the tension when the gateman recognizes you. He welcomes you, sure enough, and this servant of the Engel household is eager enough to lead you inside… But you are an empath now, by Irinnile’s association and by your own growing magical prowess. You are on-edge, and you KNOW it is with good reason.

That reason becomes apparent when Edwin comes to greet you in the main hall, summoned by the servant. His eyes are red-rimmed—From crying? Lack of sleep? Both? His expression and body language are so stiff an unnatural to him that you hardly need to be an empath to tell that something is wrong.

“Hello,” you say with a small smile. “I… Ssuppossse you’ve been worried about me?”

“You suppose?” he repeats.

You aren’t certain what to say, and so you say nothing. Edwin waits, the tension growing… But he is a man uncomfortable with long silences, and you can sense that something is building in him, something that he wishes to release.

‘And it ain’t what I was hoping for,’ Irinnile sighs.

“Would you care to join me in the study?” Edwin says aloud—loud enough for his father’s servants to hear. “Alone, of course.”

You can do little else but accept. What else WOULD you do? You follow him, closely at first… But further when he shrugs your hand away from his arm.

‘Aw shit,’ murmurs Irinnile from within.

When you reach the study, Edwin is well ahead of you, facing the wall.

“Shut the door,” he says quietly. “Please.”

You stare for a moment, calculating your move. What is this? Is he mad because you… Well, abandoned him at a party, then disappeared following an apparent attack by foreign demonologists? Because your didn’t check in for a full day afterwards? That’s…

Well, okay, maybe reasonable. From a weak, co-dependant, human point of view.

Still, it demands a response. But how to respond? And…

‘Hey,’ Irinnile notes, noticing it at the same time you do, ‘that’s our bag in the corner!’

‘MY bag,’ you correct pointedly… But damned if the demon isn’t entirely correct. In the corner of the study is your bag, with all your myriad possessions.

All your possessions. Including the Serpent Priest staff you had been keeping wrapped up, under your bed.

‘Ffffffuuuuck,’ Irinnile whispers.

Edwin turns around, follows your gaze… And then turns back to you, meeting your eyes. You have no idea how much he knows, or thinks he knows.

What do you do?
>Attempt to preempt and assuage his concerns with a cover-story [please specify the details]
>React with outrage—how dare he snoop in your room?!
>Attempt to brush off his concerns, and to flirt your way out of trouble—a robust breakfast and a rough bout of make-up sex will solve this!
>Blurt out the truth, and beg understanding and forgiveness
>Say nothing—don’t panic!—and wait for Edwin to begin talking
>Write-in
>>
>>5142999
>Say nothing—don’t panic!—and wait for Edwin to begin talking

I'd be willing to confess
uh
some stuff
>>
>>5142999
>Say nothing—don’t panic!—and wait for Edwin to begin talking

A robust breakfast and a rough bout of make-up sex won't solve this, but it'll certainly make me feel better afterwards. Let him speak his mind, and we'll speak ours (to a certain extent, we got our duties), and hopefully there will be makeup-sex and breakfast after this.

Nice trips btw RQM!

>>5142251
You were right, this did turn into a clusterfuck. I hope we can still save on time with our refueling efforts.
>>
>>5142999
> Say nothing—don’t panic!—and wait for Edwin to begin talking
The best strategy will probably depend a lot on how much he knows and exactly what angle his anger is coming from. Let him voice that, then try to counter.
>>
>>5142963
okay you're just full of shit at this point
>>
>>5142999
>React with outrage—how dare he snoop in your room?!
Stupid monke, leave our custom-engraved fireball staff alone. It could've exploded.
>Shove him aside and secure the staff.

>>5143042
I hope you're proud of yourself, anon. Don't expect you to have learned anything, though. After this you will drag us into even more chaotic shit and say it's because others.

Wish I had enough voting power to stab him and see you all shit and cry.
>>
>>5143237
>>5143247
Actually, I was considering voting for your option, as you made some good points. I was hoping for some input when I was put on the spot and voted with my gut to refuel and rearm instead of trying to sneak in during breakfast. Maybe I made the wrong choice, we'll see how it plays out.

Friendly advice though- I think acting hurt and tearful would be more useful than anger. There is strength in expressing vulnerability, and guilt-tripping is something we haven't tried yet to my knowledge.
>>
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>>5143260
>Maybe I made the wrong choice, we'll see how it plays out.
>Hurt and tearful
You tear up and let him talk now and we never get out of here in time to catch your precious demons. And not before making a trillion promises and increasing his distrust towards us even further as we will INEVITABLY have to slap him with "gotta run", right after crying him a river.
Don't tell me you're so passive you will let a fictional character force you to play home right after we KILLED A PROSTITUTE JUST TO SAVE TIME and after you ranted about how we can't afford to do absolutely anything other than chase demons like an ADHD-riddled crackhead with severe withdrawal symptoms.
>we haven't tried yet
And you want to test that angle NOW of all times.

You have 0 consistency. It's clear as day you only use logic to justify your wants, but drop it all as soon as you run out of steam or get confused.
>>
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>>5143035
>>5143042
>>5143098
>>5143247
You close the door and, mind racing and heart hammering, you wait. You could blurt out a lie, or snatch up your belongings and hurry out of this place. Perhaps you SHOULD. You have demons to retrieve, after all, and mages and monarchs whose machinations you must match…

<Affection: 100%>

But… Damn all the Gods of Light, damn the fates, damn Death Himself… This is Edwin of Engel. You love this silly ape, and to do that would surely, SURELY drive a wedge irreparable between the two of you. So you force your foot not to tap, you take a deep breath, and you listen.

Edwin, for his part, is obviously troubled as well—unsure how to start. He opens his mouth, closes it, looks away, paces a few steps, sights the staff and the bag in the corner, and turns back to you again.

“You know, we looked everywhere for you,” he begins. “Father an I, I mean. For a while, I really thought you were hurt or… Or worse.”

Edwin takes a ragged breath.

“We couldn’t find you, and the Tower Guardians were too busy to go looking for you… But I thought, this is Izzy! You’re capable, so strong, so clever… You’ll be fine.”

You can’t help a small smile at that… Even as you can in his expression that this hardly the end of it.

“But, of course, you’re also the Izzy who goes missing and sometimes gets mauled by wererats, aren’t you?” Edwin sighs. “So I couldn’t sleep. I was up, all night. Waiting. And as I waited… Well, I got to thinking. I started thinking about the things you said to me… Including the very last thing you said to me—what I genuinely thought might be the last thing you EVER said to me!”

‘Oh,’ Irinnile murmurs, before you silently shush her.

Edwin’s sad, pained expression turns to something like anger—almost, ALMOST fury, so uncharacteristic of calm of understanding Edwin—as he says: “You must think I’m an idiot.”

“…” you remain quiet, but shake you head almost imperceptibly.
>>
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>>5143412
“’I am beholden to something greater than all of us’,” he quotes you. “You said you had something you had to do, something secret… And then, AND THEN, the Endless Fountain exploded, and you were just… GONE!”

Your hands unconsciously ball to fists, fingernails digging into your palms. ‘Oh’ indeed. You have miscalculated.

“And then you stay gone, for a day, while the Inquisition and Paladins are being sighted all over town, scrambling, and there are rumours of demons and devils from the Southlands…

Word spread fast, it seems. Perhaps Lithobathius deserves a commendation? It is a rueful reflection, but it fails to distract you for long, because Edwin comes to his point:

“So I admit it—I snooped. I looked inside your bag, and under your bed. I was hoping…” he pauses, voice breaking slightly. “I was hoping I was wrong. But I found… Well, you know what I found.”

Yes, you do; a cache of magical items, including stolen Inquisition glasses and a Serpent priest staff, a dwarven relic taken from the Engelson Storehosue Company’s own property, a vial of poison, and a dagger with the faintest stain of blood along the edge… In addition to a book on Reptilians.

‘Babe,’ Irinnile interjects. ‘He knows. He KNOWS.’

“I know,” Edwin says grimly, sadly. “I know what you really are.”

You should be reaching for your hidden frost-dagger. It should be automatic at this point! For the Grand Design, for the Dark Gods, you have to plug this leak. This is your mother’s failure all over again! You can’t repeat her patterns, you CAN’T be a failure out of human weakness. Not now, not after all this! You try to will your body to move, to KILL, but… But…

<Affection: 100%>

…But you can’t. You fear tears welling in your eyes, and you know you can’t. This is Edwin—YOUR Edwin.

‘Lispy!’ Irinnile hisses.

Edwin speaks up again, quietly, as if afraid to give voice to it, and says:

“You’re a southern demonist, aren’t you?”

You blink, once. Then again. You take a moment to recalibrate. You mean he… DOESN’T know you’re a Reptilian? Well, this might change things…

What do you do?
>’Admit’ to being part of a southern demon cult, and plead for mercy and secrecy, out of love
>Build upon this mistaken belief to create a sob story of being forced by demonic Southerners to help them attack the Tower, against your will
>Appeal to Edwin’s own grievance with the Tower—they cast out his mother, rejected him—to corrupt and recruit him into this world, and to earn his confidence
>Enough of the lies—he’ll just catch you in them again, so you’ll tell him the truth, insofar as you can
>You cannot bear to lie to him—take your things, apologize, and go
>Mesmerize the man and wipe his memories
>Write-in [no murder allowed, per pic related]
>>
>>5143413
>Mesmerize the man and wipe his memories

>no murder allowed because virgin playerbase felt in love with a fat loser fuck
The fact it came to this is pathetic.
>>
>>5143413
>Appeal to Edwin’s own grievance with the Tower—they cast out his mother, rejected him—to corrupt and recruit him into this world, and to earn his confidence

chancu

>>5143422
stay salty
>>
>>5143436
Keep sucking his dick.
>>
>>5143451
It was literally part of the initial plan to do so, as I understood it.
>>
>>5143413
>Appeal to Edwin’s own grievance with the Tower—they cast out his mother, rejected him—to corrupt and recruit him into this world, and to earn his confidence

I actually take it as a point of pride that we haven't mesmerized Edwin yet, so we'll see how this goes. Act on the brink of tears, and then slowly get to seducing him for dat sweet, juicy mana.

>>5143395
The main part of my decision was to refuel twice (mana and food), get our shit, and get going. I think we're still largely on track here, despite the emotional stuff.
>>
>>5143451
will do
>>5143510
;^p
>>
>>5143413
>>Appeal to Edwin’s own grievance with the Tower—they cast out his mother, rejected him—to corrupt and recruit him into this world, and to earn his confidence

>>5143422
Some spice in life is a great thing anon
>>
>>5143708
This isn't life, anon.
>>
Rolled 11, 6, 16, 2 = 35 (4d20)

>>5143422
>>5143436
>>5143530
>>5143708
[Politesse, DC 12/15/18]
>>
>>5143892
I'm sorry for shitting up the thread, RQM.
>>
>>5143892
“Edwin,” you begin, “I admit I’m… Not exxactly who I sssaid I am. And not from where I ssaid I wass.”

Edwin recoils slightly, despite his proclamation. It seems he really did want to be proven wrong, on some level. Still, you press on.

“I wasss involved in the attack on the Tower. You’re right.”

“You… You lied to me,” he murmurs, tears now building in his eyes. “Used me.”

“Yesss,” you admit sadly.

Again, he is shocked into silence, gripping the back of a nearby chesterfield.

“But not without love,” you say, truthfully. “That wasn’t fake. I promissse. And never for anything but a worthy cause… A caussse I think you can underssstand.”

Edwin seems to be struggling to take all this in, looking dizzy and faint. “What? How could you possibly think I’d approve of—”

“Of attacking the Tower?” you finish.

Edwin doesn’t speak up, so you continue: “The Tower that threw your mother out for the ‘crime’ of having a child—you? That rejected you, rejectss Paula? The elitissst ssnobss who rule thiss ccity in all but name, and trample on the little unmagical person like you—like me?”

>12: Edwin will not cast you out of his home without hearing you out

“Izzy,” he appeals to you, “you blew up the Endless Fountain.”

“Not persssonally,” you protest.

“There were DEATHS, Izzy.”

You hesitate. That’s a tougher one to argue against.

“No unavoidable oness,” you say. “No unearned onesss.”

Edwin’s eyes widen at this callous utilitarianism—or, at least, so it must seem to him. Humans, especially the highly ‘civilzied’ humans of a Hawksong’s upper crust, they’re soft. It’s not Edwin’s fault, of course—he is a creature created by circumstance. But you have coddled him too long, perhaps, as his father and his entire society does. He deserves truth—hard truth, if not the WHOLE truth just yet.

“The Tower keepss thingss from you,” you say. “The demonss that esscaped into Hawkssong… That iss true. They did. But do you know who ssummoned thosse demonss? Who wass holding them there, using them?”

Edwin sits down. He doesn’t speak, but you can see understanding on his face.

“Yess,” you confirm. “They rail against demonisssts, or occultism, or hedge-magic, but it’ss only sso they can have a monopoly on all of it. Sso they can use exxxclussively what they deny to the rest of you... Even people with potential, SSO much potential, like YOU.”

You sit down beside him. He doesn’t look at you, but he doesn’t move, either. Taking a deep breath, you take his hand in yours. Finally, he meets your eyes.

“Edwin,” you say softly, “The Tower iss not GOOD. The attack wass jusstified.”

“How can I possibly know if you’re telling the truth?” he asks.

You smile, and squeeze his hand.

“Trusst me,” you implore.
>>
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>>5143946
>16: Edwin will not join you, but nor will he turn you in

“Ismena…”

The human male takes a deep breath, closes his eyes… And when he opens them, his expression is as stony and as steadfast as he can form his soft features to be.

“Ismena,” Edwin says, “I can’t. I’m sorry.”

“Edwin, pleasse, jusst LISSTEN!”

“I have,” he says. “I did. I… I still… I care about you. If you stop all this, if you turn yourself in, we can be together.”

“Pfft, like THAT’S gonna’ happen, amirite?’ Irinnile laughs.

“And if I don’t?” you ask softly.

“Then…” Edwin sighs a ragged sigh. “I think you should go. I won’t… I won’t say anything to anyone, about any of this. I understand that you have your reasons, but… I can’t be a part of this, whatever this is.”

<HEARTBROKEN: Edwin affection-related bonuses are negated, and you suffer a small penalty to all rolls related to willpower and endurance until the condition passes naturally or you mend the rift>

What do you do?
>Use a glamour to curb Edwin’s misgivings, and seduce him into supporting you—or at least sating your <WANT> one last time
>Use the ectoplasm trick on him—turn Edwin into a puppet, like the mages
>Take your things and leave—it’s over
>Ask for some food to go, undignified as it makes you feel
>Write-in

[If choosing to leave, specify where you plan to go next]

>>5143900
I appreciate some enthusiastic banter in the thread, so no worries.
>>
>>5143948
>Use a glamour to curb Edwin’s misgivings, and seduce him into supporting you—or at least sating your <WANT> one last time

Well, I certainly didn't expect this. Goddamn, we should've lied. Damnit.
>>
>>5143948
You can call be a sentimental fool, but I wanted to show Edwin the drake Hershel and try and bond over learning magic when things have calmed down. I guess I really was a fool.

>>5143395
I do hope you're happy about this result lad, Edwin won't be bothering us anymore. Now we can focus on business fully, even with my inconsistent ass making a mess of shit just to save some time.
>>
>>5143948
>Use a glamour to curb Edwin’s misgivings, and seduce him into supporting you—or at least sating your <WANT> one last time
Ectoplasm is always there as a last resort
>>
>>5143948
>Use a glamour to curb Edwin’s misgivings, and seduce him into supporting you—or at least sating your <WANT> one last time
Sate the want and gtfo, I say!

>>5143983
Sad to leave after putting so much time here, but at least this takes out the most annoying conflict out of the picture. Ismena is better off finding someone of literally any race other than human and their close allies.
I might have a plan on how to get prepared to get Siz and then the demons n stuff from farmhouse, if you want to hear it.

>>5144006
>ectoplasming him into romance
and here I thought I didn't care about his feelings, kek
>>
>>5143948
>Take your things and leave—it’s over

He'll come around
We can find evidence of tower wrongdoings
Or manufacture it
>>
>>5144006
Honestly? I chose to send us off with a bang rather than a whimper. Ectoplasming him would be the same as mesmerizing him, and I prefer his love to be given by his choice rather than ours. I think our final goodbye should be in his dreams, so we can at least explain ourselves before telling him to live his best life and that we love him, even if he doesn't love us. A fitting end, if not the happiest one.

>>5144029
Like a demon, or a fox perhaps?
I'm game to listen.

>>5144049
I mean, he can just talk to Sid and the Dragonborn if we're going full meme. Honestly though, I'm sure just a short, honest conversation with Henzler would be enough.

The point isn't the Tower's wrongdoing, the point is we've betrayed his trust while crushing his childhood dreams and aspirations. That's a lot of metal baggage we just placed on him, and the thing I adore most is his childhood wonder about magic and trying to live up to his mother's magical shadow. I don't want him to harden like his father.
>>
>>5144029
It’s the last resort option if we can’t win him back and he actively threatens the mission. I still prefer a mindwipe or just leaving quietly.
>>
>>5144087
I'm against a memory wipe. Leaving quietly is for the best.
>>
>>5143948
>Take your things and leave—it’s over
>>
Rolled 7, 20, 8, 17, 7, 4 = 63 (6d20)

>>5143959
>>5144006
>>5144029
>>5144049
>>5144574
>>
>>5144789
Dance, sex... we really are amazing together.
>>
>>5144789
It’s over. You can see it in Edwin’s eyes, feel it in your trichambered reptile heart… But you can’t leave it, not just like that.

“Edwin…”

You reach out, touching his face gently, and his expression melts a little. It might be the glamour and nothing more—it MIGHT be—but you hope that part of it is real.

“I’ll take my thingss and go,” you say. “But can I… Kiss you, jusst oncce more?”

“Ismena…”

“Izzy,” you correct him gently. “Call me Izzy.”

One kiss becomes another, becomes an embrace… Becomes more. Every ounce of passion, of emotion, that this man has inspired in you, you endeavour to return to him twofold. You move madly against him, atop him, like you are going off to war—in many ways, you are. You kiss him like you’ll never see him again, because perhaps you won’t.

>20

He is helpless to resist—and that, you know, is more than mere glamour. The magic amplifies and reciprocates you feelings, guide you both to greater heights than ever before. You’ve fucked and been fucked, but for the first time you think you fully understand the distinction between those couplings and what humans euphemistically call ‘making love’. It’s more than just a turn of phrase—you feel the difference. This, this is real.

<WANT: 15>

It serves its strategic purpose well enough… But the cuddling, the holding Edwin tight and feeling his warmth, listening to his breathing and his heart… That’s just for you, a memory to remember him by.

“Izzy…”

You shake you head, smiling sadly, and motion for him to say no more.

“I udnersstand,” you tell him. “Jusst know that I would tell you more if I could.”

Edwin just looks at you, his already weak resolve compromised to the point of breaking. He clings loosely to your hand as you stand and step away. He wants to call you back to bed—you can feel it, sense it. He doesn’t want you to leave…

But he can’t bear for you to stay, either. Not if you’re killing people, attacking the heart of the city. Not after all you kept from him, and all you finally told him.

“Maybe sssomeday,” you say, not knowing if it’s a vain hope. “Be ssafe, Edwin.”

And then, before either of you can say anything else, you don your cloak and depart.
>>
>>5144815
Hey,' Irinnile says gently, 'don't sweat it. You don't need him. We have each other, right? That's all we need, right?'

What do you say?
>Nothing—you don’t know how to feel
>Agree with Irinnile—she’s enough, even without Edwin
>Scold Irinnile for her recent behaviour, and her presumption
>Write-in

Where do you go?

>Agatha Young’s, because you are STILL famished, you have no coin and no sugar daddy, and she and her uncle are always good for a free meal
>The Pretty Kitty, to check in on operations there and bum some food—you also need to earn some walking-around money
>To The Incubus—you need to consult with your occult partner-in-crime about this Paladin situation
>To Roth, your Reptilian contact, to apprise him of recent goings-on inside and outside Hawksong
>Write-in
>>
>>5144817
>Agree with Irinnile—she’s enough, even without Edwin
Though I do miss Edwin already.
>Agatha Young’s, because you are STILL famished, you have no coin and no sugar daddy, and she and her uncle are always good for a free meal
Food and comfort.
>>
>>5144817
>"We will always be enough, Irinnile. You and I have been through more than any sssurface-creature ever will."

>The Pretty Kitty, to check in on operations there and bum some food—you also need to earn some walking-around money
>>
>>5144817
>Scold Irinnile for her recent behaviour, and her presumption
>Agatha Young’s, because you are STILL famished, you have no coin and no sugar daddy, and she and her uncle are always good for a free meal
>>
For the record, I still would like us to find a way to fix our relationship with Edwin if it's possible.
>>
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>>5144817
>Agree with Irinnile—she’s enough, even without Edwin
For the record, I'm good without Edwin, cause I doubt we would actually corrupt him with how inconsistent our votes are.
>To The Incubus—you need to consult with your occult partner-in-crime about this Paladin situation
This is what we need to do now. Then farmhouse where we can eat.

Going to TPK will very likely end up with more complications, just like with Edwin.

>>5144074
Or a lizard. Or a cat. Or a green onahole. Foxes piss everywhere so idk.
>I'm game to listen.
Okay, so I have an idea on how to tackle our glasses problem, get Chase on radar and set up a place where we can chill and finish our business with Incubus safely.
>testing what materials can block the glasses
We just need to put them on right now, target the right pedestrian and walk around the buildings to figure this out. Can also do this later with Incubus, if we're going there.
>getting Chase targeted
We can safely send Felman to do this, he will have an opportunity to see the paladin.
Either use Yemrep to deliver them to his house, or summon him directly to us. But I think we should send the imp just to save time. We can get them back the same way.
This way we'll know where Chase is at all times to limit the risk of bumping into him.
>The place
The farmhouse. It's the perfect spot to lay low and have access to all our resources and help.
Once we figure out what materials can block the glasses, we set up a couple makeshift walls with Alhazred's / Incubus' thralls' help and summon Siz Gamid, then other demons directly there.

It does have a few 'if's, but it's the best thing we can do right now. And yeah, first we gotta go to Incubus to make sure he knows about our plans.
Hell, maybe he can even help with the knowledge about glasses. And who said those remote-controlled corvids can't be used to pick targets?
>>
>>5144817
>Scold Irinnile for her recent behaviour, and her presumption

>The Pretty Kitty, to check in on operations there and bum some food—you also need to earn some walking-around money
We should eat
>>
>>5144821
>>5144824
>>5144825
>>5145055
>>5145202
[Seems we're leaning towards agreeing with Irinnile, and are divide don where to go. Leading votes are for Agatha's or TPK. I'll let you folks decide and, if the tie isn't broken with a couple hours or so, I'll roll for it and post.]
>>
>>5144817
>Scold Irinnile for her recent behaviour, and her presumption
>The Pretty Kitty, to check in on operations there and bum some food—you also need to earn some walking-around money
>>
>>5145277
>>5145234
[And now we're leaning towards TPK, but tied on Irinnile.]
>>
who could be this 1ID post belong to?
HMM
>>
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Rolled 1 (1d2)

>>5145284
[There is also that.]

[For the sake of getting a post out, I'm going with that status at >>5145234
, and agreeing with Irinnile. Then, a roll for where to go. Some might argue it's unfair, but tiebreaking 1postbythisID posts are always contentious, and posting one only to create a different tie is pretty cheeky. I'll post when I get back from a walk.]
>>
>>5145330
>pic
>master of shapeshifting and illusions
>get her powers from a pearl
Mein Gott. How the mighty have fallen.
>>
>>5145330
>>5144821
>>5144824
>>5144825
>>5145055
>>5145202
“You're right,” you say, with only a slight sniffle and barest misgivings.

‘Damn right I am!’ Irinnile cheers on your resolution. ‘Edwin's just some GUY, some HUMAN guy. I mean, I get it. He's cute. Nice dick. That MANA! But he doesn't get you like I do.’

That much is true—probably nobody in all the world knows you as well as the dream-demon nesting in your very heart, privy to your sleeping dreams and your waking ones. Maybe… Maybe Edwin of Engel was a mistake. Maybe Irinnile is all you need.

‘Thatta’ girl,’ Irinnile whispers, and you feel her spectral caress.

Still, she is a parasitic demonic entity—one who takes and drains. Edwin? Edwin was giving, and loving, and…

You shake your head to clear the clouds. You need food, and despite your resolution, you need comfort. Where better for either, you reason, than the home of Oxford, Agatha Johan’s uncle? Agatha Johan is your oldest human ‘friend’, the peasant girl and former temple aide turned seamstress, who traveled to Hawksong with you from the farming town of Sparrowton. She’s shy, deferential, and very easily bullied. She is, in other words, perfect to take your mind off of… Him.

“Ismena?” she greets you at her door with surprise. “I was worried sick about you! Oh, you look… Oh, well, um, still good but… Come inside.”

Not the greeting you expected, but you graciously accept. Oswald, Agatha’s uncle, is hard at work with a block of wood and a saw and knife; you recall vaguely that he did some form of carpentry work, primarily furnishings.

“Ismena,” he acknowledges. “It’s been a while.”

You smile slyly and say, “It’ss been hectic.”

“I heard about the Gala,” Agatha says, taking your cloak. “Are you alright? Is Edwin?”

You wince at the name, but nod. Agatha catches your reaction, though. You can see her squirming to ask, but too polite and withdrawn to do so. You sigh, and clear the air yourself.

“It’sss… Complicated. We ended up…” You stop, taking a breath. “I won’t be seeing him for a while.”

“Oh no!” Agatha says. “Have you got anywhere to stay?”

You hear Oxford’s carving abruptly stop, and can sense the sudden spike in his anxiety—he’s afraid his niece, well-meaning girl that she is, is about to volunteer his home. You stifle a laugh.

“I do,” you say. “The Pretty Kitty hass a room for me. But if you’re offering food… I haven’t eaten ssincce the Gala.”

“Oh! Of course! I’m sorry.”

Agatha stammers her apologies, hangs your cloak, and sets about hustling and bustling to make you a meal. She even remembers your preferences: meat, eggs, a minimum of starches and greens, and water.
>>
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>>5145533

“You made no food for either of you?” you ask, as you take the plate from Agatha.

“We already had breakfast,” Oxford says.

Agatha gives your arm a squeeze, and says, “It’s no problem, honestly. I can’t believe that man, throwing you out after such a traumatic experience, and without a meal!”

You don’t like to hear her speak badly of Edwin—it was, after all, not his fault. You have no idea how to correct her underlying misconceptions without inviting further questions, however, about the reason for your falling out with the man or events surrounding the Gala. Instead, with Agatha hovering and puttering about awkwardly, you eat in silence.

“Say, I don’t recognize that dress,” Agatha notes—and well she wouldn’t, for you are still ‘wearing’ a shiny leather number shapeshifted from your own skin. “What happened to the golden one?”

“It wass ruined in the commotion,” you say sadly, and almost-truthfully.

“Oh no!” Agatha says, bring her hand to her mouth to hide a little gasp. “Well… It’s okay! The next one I make will have even more practice behind it!”

Not that you’re sure when you will be able to afford such an expensive custom piece, now, without a money-laden boyfriend… You simply sigh again, and finish your food. One more strategic objective complete, and you are recharged. It is late morning now, almost noon.

The question now is what to prioritize next?
>Gather info on current events while you’re here [what do you ask about?]
>Summon Felman to discuss the glasses, and to plan the monitoring and tracking of Sir Chase
>Head to The Pretty Kitty to earn some coin and to secure a place to stay tonight
>Head to the Hawksong Royal Library to study up on the Paladins
>Reconvene with one of your contacts [Roth? Albacete? The Incubus?] to update them and to plan your next move
>Consult the Akashic Record for advice on demon-wrangling
>Write-in
>>
>>5145535
>Consult the Akashic Record for advice on demon-wrangling

With immediate fires put out we can't be leaving the Dragonborn in some barn, and to lead them out of incubus storage we need to make good on our part of the deal.

Or do we? We did say it would take some time for us to do our end. We might be able to lead them to the true hideout now and demon herd later.
>>
Cry into a pillow about Edwin.
Ignore this post.
>>
>>5145330
This is an outrage! This is discrimination against unprivileged anons! This a crime against lurkers!

>>5145715
Supporting
>>
>>5145732
>>
>>5145715
I can support some pillow crying
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>>5145741
>:(
>>
>>5145535
>Consult the Akashic Record for advice on demon-wrangling, paladins, and the current Archmage

Yea, totally just business and not an excuse to cry in a pillow.

>Summon Felman to discuss the glasses, and to plan the monitoring and tracking of Sir Chase and the Archmage
After that, meet up with Felman while we're on our way to meet with Roth or the Incubus.
>>
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Rolled 5, 15, 13, 17, 2 = 52 (5d20)

>>5145907
>>5145757
>>5145732
>>5145715
>>5145589

When your meal is done, you ask if you can lay down for a time—“to ressst up for work” you say—and Agatha is faster to oblige than Uncle Oxford is to devise some excuse to say no. Poor, silly girl. She means well, and that loyalty and helpfulness can be valuable, but you need no rest. No, you need only to…

To…

>Cry into a pillow about Edwin

Okay, maybe you need to take a moment. Luckily, the Johans provide you with a quiet room, with curtains drawn, and with a pillow into which you can scream and sob your frustrations and laments, far from prying eyes and judgement.

‘Oh babe,’ Irinnile coos. ‘I thought we were past this?’

‘We are,’ you insist, wiping your eyes and nose somewhat gracelessly. ‘We are.’

‘Hey, you know what always cheers you up?’ Irinnile asks rhetorically.

You can already sense her preferred answer, predictable and gluttonous fiend that she is, but you must disappoint.

‘Work,’ you say, ‘in service to the Dark Gods.’

Irinnile sighs, but even she can’t deny it. She knows you well, after all. Your piety and service is, as always, a solace. You bury yourself in it, and let the embrace of shadows between spaces, outside and beyond time, embrace you and banish human frailty from your mind.

>Consult the Akashic Record for advice on demon-wrangling
>>
>>5145927
The Akashic Record of the Dark Gods is a record of all past activities, across the span of the world and the gulf of ages, wherein your fellow agents of those deities performed their sacred duty. Luckily for you, your people have never been strangers to occultism and demonology. The record is a valuable font of knowledge on their handling and mastery, including their habits.


Besides banished Siz-Gamid, you recall a number of demons—the hellhound, the mantis-like humanoid, the shroud-like entity, and the goat-like devil with the legs of a chicken. You focus on each of them in turn, ‘flipping the pages’ of the astral archives to seek out memories tied to the echo of those sensory impressions. It takes you time—hours of meditation—but the Akashic Record does not disappoint.

>15

First is the hound. Hellhounds are a common entity to summon, it seems, for they are dimwitted and easily bribed, with many practical uses. They do not have the sense of smell of an earthly canid, but rather a sense for souls, most especially the very pure and the very wicked. They hunger for both, and can be bribed with flesh and spirit of mortals of that character to track and hunt others… Though they are prone to distraction, and are easily-banished. They are cryptic hunters, traveling in the same ‘in-between’ spaces where the Akashic Record might be found, in a manner that resembles teleportation to the uninitiated, though they can only enter and emerge from this space through angles and corners—never in the open, or through a flat or rounded surface. You even know the name of one such being—its true name—and you know how to summon it… Perhaps it could help you sniff out its kin, for a pound of flesh and a human soul?

>17

The next is the shroud-like entity, which the Akashic Record reveals to be wraith—a semi-spectral entity which preys on graveyard mourners, feeding on their despair and exacerbating it. These entities are known for inspiring suicides in isolated places where it may snatch the soul up, or adopting the guise of dead loved ones to lure people into their clutches. They are not terribly powerful at the best of times, but they have the distinction of being immaterial, able to pass through any ‘unclaimed’ space at will, and of creating thick mists and cold, obscuring haze. You know from your travels where Hawksong’s residents inter their dead, and so you conclude that it would be a simple matter to find such an entity. This is true ESPECIALLY while daylight remains: wraiths cannot stand the sun’s rays in the least, and shelter inside tombs and sepulchers when it shines.
>>
>>5145935
You open your eyes, and Irinnile uses her shapeshifting to remove the crow’s feet and evidence of tears from your face. You are cleansed (at least for now), sorrow and heartbreak set aside for determination and virtuous purpose.

What do you do with your afternoon?
>Summon a hellhound, to help you track down the other demons
>Scout the graveyards and sepulchers of Hawksong for the wraith
>Put off your demonic activities until nightfall—for now, attend to other matters [such as?]
>Spend some time with Agatha—it’s been a while, and laying low for a time might help avoid close scrutiny
>Write-in
>>
>>5145937
>Go to Incubus' hideout in Hawksong
Somewhat optional, but I just want to have a safe place for operations. Letting Agatha see Felman is not the best thing to do.
>Send Yemrep to scout the graveyards and sepulchers of Hawksong
Tell him about Chase so he doesn't get caught.
>Summon Felman to discuss the glasses, and to plan the monitoring and tracking of Sir Chase and the Archmage
Let's get this done.
>>
>>5145937
>Scout the graveyards and sepulchers of Hawksong for the wraith
>>
>>5145935
hellhounds of tindalos I see

>Summon a hellhound, to help you track down the other demons
There is no way we're tracking down all those demons ourselves
>>
>>5146241
I take it you don't like my ideas
>>
>>5146452
Sorry, I had to rush read this update before RL intervened. I'll +1 >>5146101 instead of >>5146241. We should also check if Bianchi is compromised, just in case this situation wasn't enough of a shitshow anyway.
>>
>>5146101
Supporting
>>
>>5146101
>>5146270
>>5146500
>>5146846
You decide that the best course of action is some demonic delegation… But, perhaps, not while you’re still at the Johan household. Likewise, while Felman may prove invaluable in better understanding the magical glasses you stole from him, and in tracking or monitoring Sir Chase, you can’t exactly summon an Inquisitor to this place without creating unnecessary drama—which, after Edwin, is the last thing you need.

You make a show of stretching as you step out of the room where you had your alleged nap. This provokes a flush and a quick turn of the head from Uncle Oxford, which serves to make you feel a little better. You almost-but-not-quite thank Agatha, and she nods and smiles in response.

“Don’t be afraid to reach out if you need anything,” she tells you, and you can tell she means it. And without ulterior motive! What a strange little creature…

You set out for the Incubus’ lair once more—a walk that takes you until the late afternoon. However, when you arrive, you find that tattooed girl leaning outside. She looks more haggard than you recall her looking when you first encountered her, and has too much of an actual face to be actively playing host to The Incubus; still, you are wary. You know that you can spy through your new ectoplasmic puppets’ eyes—surely this ‘greater demon’ can do likewise.

“Have you brought the master’s legions?” she asks, taking a draw on some sort of pipe. You can tell by her tone that she doesn’t think it likely.

“It iss a work in progresss,” you say. Then, in lower tones: “The Paladinss have become involved.”

“We know,” the tattooed waif says, exhaling a small plume of fragrant, herbal-smelling smoke. “Everyone knows. The paladin running around town isn’t subtle. We heard he cut one of them down.”

“Not quite,” you correct her, provoking the rise of her shaved, tattooed brow.

You explain what happened with Siz-Gamid, and your plans moving forward,a nd request the use of this place as a base of operations.

“Summoning an Inquisitor here?” she says skeptically. “I don’t know…”

The burly woman—man, maybe? Neuter, hermaphrodite? You’re still not sure—who played lackey to the incubus last time leans out of the window of a tenement above, adding their two cents:

“Lower your voice and get in here, or that’ll be the least of our worries!”

You and the tattooed one exchange a glance, and oblige the request. It’s as good an invitation as any.
>>
>>5146984
Once inside, many men—and many more women and children—watch you warily from their windows and doorways, until you are guided into the greater demon’s parlour once more. It is less smoky than usual, and the atmosphere is somehow lighter and less intense in another way. The Incubus is absent, something you assume to be related.

“The master is at the farmhouse already,” the large human of uncertain gender explains, “waiting, with your friends, for you to honour the pact.”

“I ssee,” you say.

Obviously, these people at least have no issue with you summoning a demon, and so you do. The odd couple watch with silent interest as you slice open your palm, trace the usual sigil in the air, and thus summon the degraded and filthy imp known as ‘Yemrep’.

“Mmm,” you moans, “mmmisstress calls for Yemrep once more? I am so spoiled, spoiled ROTTEN to be in your presence again so soon.”

This creature gives you the creeps, but his summoning cost is low, and he is surprisingly useful. He is almost as much a jelly as a biped, his form insubstantial for lack of souls or pacts, but he is nearly as good a tracker as a hellhound, with a bit of direction.

“Sscour Hawkssong,” you instruct him. “Itss graveyardss and sspeculchressss. Find me the wraith who lurks there.”

“Oh, the graveyards!” he speaks with elation bordering of ecstasy. “Pyrefaction and decay, worms crawling in and out! So much STENCH in those tombs, and fresh soil to squirm and roll in to my dark heart’s content!”

“Be ssubtle,” you command, “and QUICK, Yemrep. An order of Paladinss and a Mage’ss Tower Inquissition are searching, too.”

That gives the little toad-like demon pause. He stops stroking his face with his little paw-like hands and his eyes bug out.

“P-paladins?” he asks. “INQUISITORS?”

“Yemrep,” you say his True Name sternly, “I command you to go forth NOW, and to not return without achieving SSUCCESSSSS.”

Yemrep chortles, but it is half-hearted, hiding fear. “Mistress is so sexy when she yells at poor, pathetic, squalid little Yemrep.”

“GO!”

He bows, and sinks into the shadows.

“I think he’s kind of cute,” the tattooed girl says.

The human of indeterminate gender simply sneers and scoffs at their friend’s taste in demons.
>>
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>>5146987
Next comes Felman. You are unable to convince the incubus cultists to allow you to meet with him in their complex, but it is no matter—you can do so just as well a short distance away, in an alley. Your ectoplasmic puppeteering allows you to reach out to his mind and soul from across the city, and to call him to you.

‘Doesn’t make the waiting any less boring, though,’ Irinnile complains.

‘Shush,’ you say. ‘I’ve had enough walking.’

‘Carriage rids on command WERE nice,’ the succubus sighs dreamily.

Eventually, Inquisitor Felman arrives, his glasses shining in the lantern-light and obscuring his eyes as he approaches. For a moment, you have the paranoid notion that he has broken your control—he strides with such purpose—but then, how would he have known to come? No, when you see the lack of scorn in his expression, you know the unusually strong-willed human is just… Being himself, as it were, within the constraints of your dark influence.

“You called for me,” he says—not a question.

“Yesss,” you say, extracting a pair of glasses to match his own from your bag. “Tell me about these.”

And so he does, telling you what he knows of the magical artefact: they are good to track a target for up to 50 miles, though their accuracy and reliability diminishes the further one is from the target, and the longer it has been since the target was ‘locked onto’ by their magic. Thick obstacles, especially of dense stone or metal, provide an extra barrier against effectiveness, and cold iron or lead can provide an almost absolute barrier even in thin sheets.

“What if one travelss between planes?” you ask.

“Such as to the underworld?” he asks pointedly. “If they resurface within the area of effect within the glasses, within a set amount of time, a demon’s essence will still be detected by the spell.”

“What is thisss ‘sset amount of time’, precccisely?”

Felman shakes his head. “Depends who enchanted the glasses. Usually between three days and a fortnight. I can’t say. It is, put frankly, a pain in the ass sometimes. It behooves an agent to move swiftly once he has a lock.”

So it goes for an agent of your ilk, too, you suppose.
>>
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>>5146990
“Have you yet sseen this ‘Ssir Chase’?” you ask, moving onto the next topic.

Inquisitor Felman grimaces. “I have.”

You smirk, and tilt your head in question at his displeasure.

“A loud and boorish man, too eager to impress crowds and show off,” Felman says. “He lost our quarry at the moment of victory, just as we had it cornered.”

“You were with him, then?” you ask. “It iss good that he failed. Enssure that he continuesss to fail, if at all posssible. That demon iss MINE.”

“I… See,” Felman says simply, eye twitching subtly. He does not object.

“Good boy,” you say, patting his cheek gently. “Be a dear and keep an eye on Chassse, and lock your glasssess onto him. Then, bring them to me when I call upon you. I wish to keep MY eye on him, alssso.”

Inquisitor Felman nods, and stands at attention.

“Will that be all?” he asks.

>Ask Felman something else about the case
>Ask Felman to do something else
>Take advantage of Felman’s presence to sate some <WANT> before you send him away
>Waste no further time here—send him off to do his duty
>Write-in

What is your next move?
>You have missed too many shifts at The Pretty Kitty—you have a cover identity to maintain, and you need some coin
>You should report to your Reptilian contacts, Roth and Albacete
>It is time you attended to your OTHER mission—your DIVINE mission—and paid the Yosefs a visit
>While Yemrep is seeking out the wraith, you plan to seek out the hellhound
>Write-in

Sorry for no post earlier -- I was running a little late for work, and tehre weren't many votes by the time I headed out.
>>
>>5146991
>Take advantage of Felman’s presence to sate some <WANT> before you send him away
Might as well humiliate the incel further. Service us with your tongue, just like at TPK.
>You have missed too many shifts at The Pretty Kitty—you have a cover identity to maintain, and you need some coin
After
>While Yemrep is seeking out the wraith, you plan to seek out the hellhound
Best to keep ourselves occupied.

Tis no problem, it was my fault for hastily voting instead of trying to support my fellow anons plan.
>>
>>5146991
>Ask Felman something else about the case
Archmage, his investigation of reptilian angle. If he knows nothing - tell him to keep his ears open for that.
Chase, Felman was with him and the guy is loud, does Felman know how is his mission going? And more importantly, how does his demon-sense work? Did he accidentally notice Siz-Gamid or was he aware of her presence from a distance?
Besides, tell Felman to be cautious, we don't want Chase to notice the ectoplasm...
>Tell him to tell us as soon as Chase uses his glasses to target something else than Siz-Gamid.

>You have missed too many shifts at The Pretty Kitty—you have a cover identity to maintain, and you need some coin
Coin and recharge.

>>5147032
When Yemrep comes back, can we send him to farmhouse to relay the information about glasses to Incubus and ask to prepare a big-enough barrier to summon Siz-Gamid in there?
I'm sure he doesn't want us to risk leading Chase onto him and this is the only way to summon her safely and also easily learn who the two remaining demons are.
Also consider asking F the questions, before we get caught up in chaos again.
>>
[Will await more votes and post after work!]
>>
>>5147499
I might be wrong here, but can't we merge both?
>>
>>5147500
[Yes, but merging the prompts will add to the time it takes me for the write-up (already tricky with my narrow window for my AM post) and given that only two players have voted, I'd like to give others a chance to have their say anyway.]
>>
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>>5147505
Understandable, have a nice day.
>>
>>5146991
>Waste no further time here—send him off to do his duty

>It is time you attended to your OTHER mission—your DIVINE mission—and paid the Yosefs a visit
DIVINE
>>
>>5147032
>>5147372
+1, we need our WANT under control, and we can ask questions on the way to TPK.
>>
>>5147894
I'd like to ask him questions in the alley, if possible. Those thralls raised a fair point about not talking about sensitive things in public.
Plus it would look weird for an Inquisitor to casually walk with a dancer whose brothel he raided a while ago.
>>
>>5147934
Sure, I'm alright with that.
>>
>>5147372
Yea, I'm alright with the questions and using the imp, just make sure we're away from TPK wearing a different face when we summon him again.

>>5147934
I'm cool with that as well, though we can always shapeshift our face to be unrecognizable.
>>
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>>5147894
>>5147560
>>5147032
>>5147372
“No,” you tell Felman after a moment’s consideration. “No, that isssn’t quite all.”

Felman’s brow furrows as you beckon him still deeper into the alley, but he dutifully follows you into the shadows, and just as dutifully falls to his knees as if in religious reverence. You shapeshift the hem of your ‘dress’ higher, grab a handful of the Inquisitor’s hair, and set him to work.

<WANT: 14>

The sexual subjugation takes the edge off, and helps make Irinnile more manageable, but at a cost—despite only serving you with his mouth, the energy drain of your dark passenger takes a toll on the mage. Felman slumps sideways against the wall, gasping and wheezing as if he ran a marathon. When his breathing steadies, it is the slow and deep rhythm of a man almost asleep. He won’t be doing any more dirty-work for you anytime soon… But, you reason, he can still be of use.

“Tell me, have you heard or sseen tell of what the Archmage hass been up to?”

Felman shakes his head weakly, eyes half-lidded.

“Been busy,” he mutters, “with investigation of the demons. Your demons.”

“Well, keep your eyess and earss open,” you say. “Keep me abreassst.”

He nods.

“And thiss Ssir Chassse,” you say, “how iss hiss invessstigation going? What exactly iss hiss modusss operandi? How did he find the demon?”

Inquisitor Felman frowns at this, and seems to be jolted to something approximating wakefulness. “I… Do not know. He looked at a woman in the library, a blonde woman with glasses, and he seems to see something we couldn’t. I was dubious at first, especially as he described it as something close to a ‘hunch’ or intuition … But it must have been more. When she left, we locked onto her with our glasses, and we followed.”

“You could not verify hiss ‘hunch’?” you ask.

Felman grimaces. “The Tower is sadly… Lacking in demonological expertise, following the attack on the Gala. We had our most experienced demon specialist cast spells to identify the demon’s nature, but those take time, and proximity. We had neither, and so… The Paladin charged ahead, sword drawn.”

The Iqnusiitor looks aghast, even now, but also… Almost admiring. “It was a reckless, reckless move… But I have always said that sometimes, The Tower is slower to act than I would like. It was a calculated gamble, I think. I think we were all afraid we were about to be at the centre of a scandal of some magnitude. Instead, she—it—transformed. The two of them battled for a time, until…”

Felman looks you in the eye, fully comprehending. “You summoned the demon away, then banished it to cover your tracks.”

You say nothing, but cannot fully stifle a smile.
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>>5148458
“That will be all, for now,” you tell him. “And do wipe your facce off, before you return to work. Make sure you do something about the glasssess which locked onto the demon—sselect a new target, break them, lose them… Jusst take them off the gameboard.”

Felman watches you go, expression inscrutable. You don’t bother to try to decipher what’s going on in his mind—the ectoplasmic parasite will see to that, you’re sure. You have a date with a cat-madam, a stage, and an identity too long ignored: that of The pretty Kitty’s illustrious Desert Princess and star performer, Kamunu!

The sun is just setting as you arrive—it does so later now than when you first entered this city and took up employment there. Almost immediately, familiar faces ae in your own face: Felia, the middle-aged and chesty manager and counter-woman; Grendelia, the nearly-seven-foot quarter-orc Amazonian beauty, soft-spoke but concerned; Red Annie, foul-mouthed dockworker’s daughter; Helga and Manuela, businesslike dwarf and raunchy halfling; the twins Tricia and Alicia, the newbies Vivian and Robin. Even Laskar, the elven bard who (for reasons all his own) has chosen this brothel as his preferred venue, watches from the corner, where he tunes a lute-like item you expect is part of the one-man-band apparatus he has rigged up in the rafters above the stage where Kamunu—you—do your dancing.

“Kamunu!” Felia exclaims. “You’re alright!”

“Of coursse,” you say with an easy smile. “I gather you heard about—”

“The big fuck-off explosion in the Initiate’s Village?” Annie interrupts. “Yeah, YEAH we heard. Holy SHIT!”

Felia gives Annie a glare, but the pirate-themed exotic dancer just sticks out her tongue. “It’s part of my gimmick!”

“We heard,” Grendelia clarified. “We were worried.”

“Not me,” Manuela says, puffing up her pert chest with pride. “I said, Kamunu? Kamunu’s a Desert princess. She’ll be fine!”

“How’s that, uh, delicate human lad of yours, though?” Helga asks.

She means well, but… Edwin. You aren’t ready to talk about Edwin. Instead, you get change the subject—the show is about to start, after all, and you still need to get changed!
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>>5148469
The others hurry off to make their own preparations and, like a second skin, you slide into the coin-festooned silken attire of your alter-ego. You stuff your feelings into a box deep inside, and you don the effortless, haughty confidence of Kamunu.

“It’s good that you’re back,” Mina says, as you step out of the washing-up room where you typically get changed. The cat-like humanoid, madam and founder of this place, watches you with her usual unreadable gaze… But you sense, faintly, that she too was concerned.

“It’ss good to be back,” you say. “Now, let’sss entertain ssome patronsss, shall we?”

Taking to the stage is like coming home, in many ways. It is, at least, a welcome distraction from the stresses of life-and-death battle, the rigors of demon hunting, Irinnile’s constant hunger, and… And from the whole matter of Edwin. You focus on mastery, on grace, on stage-presence and on your body. You tune out everything else and just let yourself be a purely physical being for a time, with your mind focused only on manipulating your movements. Only at the end do you begin to weave in your signature ribbons of golden light and fractal rainbows—illusion as the capstone of a beautiful, tantalizing dance. You still have it, and the crowd clearly appreciates your return. The coins scattered or rolled across the stage attest to your continued dominance of the dance-floor!
>>
>>5148475
But you do not know how to dance without letting some emotion flow, and there is one member of The pretty Kitty’s staff who has always been attuned to that: the elf, Laskar Endingray. His magic is mystical in nature, that you know, and tied to emotion. When he plays for you, he is attuned to YOU, and he must sense something is awry. When intermission comes around, he interrupts the girls’ chattering backstage to gently touch your shoulder, getting your attention.

“Are you alright?” he asks quietly.

Despite his subtle expression of concern, his descent from his little nest is obviously unusual enough to draw the girls’ attention. You immediately hear their conversation sow and quiet, as they listen in.

What do you do?
>Lean on your ‘friends’ at The Pretty Kitty, telling them about the breakup and—insofar as you can. With lots of careful editing to hide your demonic and Reptilian activities—the stress of the last few days
>Pretend everything is okay—you’re still working
>Tell Laskar to mind his own business, and clock him if he persists
>Drag him off to a room for a quickie—more hedonism will fill the hole inside, and shut him up
>Write-in

What is your plan for the remainder of the evening?
>Finish up your shift, collect your pay and tips, and spend the night in your old room here
>Head out early, and go hellhound-hunting
>Find some clients to further sate your want, and to learn more about the city’s situation from [specify if you have a specific sort of client in mind]
>Meet with Mina to discuss your business plans for TPK [feel free to elaborate]
>Write-in

I hope the big comprehensive evening updates are keeping the pace moving along briskly enough!
>>
>>5148482
>Lean on your ‘friends’ at The Pretty Kitty, telling them about the breakup and—insofar as you can. With lots of careful editing to hide your demonic and Reptilian activities—the stress of the last few days
>Head out early, and go hellhound-hunting

Honestly, wouldn't mind staying a while and catching up a bit, maybe even another dance routine with the twins. Can't stay obviously, too busy, but enjoying some time here would be nice, because this is relaxing from the stress we've been in lately.
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>>5148482
>Drag him off to a room for a quickie—more hedonism will fill the hole inside, and shut him up
If we do end up talking about it, make sure the whole brothel doesn't go in supportive frenzy. Nine or ten women trying to "cheer" Ismena up is THE last thing we need currently with everything going on.
>Head out early, and go hellhound-hunting
I'd like to finish our job here normally for once, but go demon hunting right after that.

>>5147990
>our face
That wasn't my primary concern. It's the Felman I'm worried about, because if someone snitches on him, Tower might start looking at him with scrutiny. And that'd lead to anything from him being unable to help us without being noticed to the ectoplasm being discovered.
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>>5148482
>Lean on your ‘friends’ at The Pretty Kitty, telling them about the breakup and—insofar as you can. With lots of careful editing to hide your demonic and Reptilian activities—the stress of the last few days
>Drag him off to a room for a quickie—more hedonism will fill the hole inside, and shut him up

>Head out early, and go hellhound-hunting
>>
>>5148657
>>5149119
>>5149201
“Edwin and I...”

You pause, collecting yourself. No tears—not here, not in front of your lesser and lackeys, in front of mammals!

“Ah,” says Laksar Endingray who, infuriatingly, seems to have already worked it out.

“What? Vivian asks, always a bit ditzy since the day she arrived. “I don’t get—Oof!”

She catches an elbow from Robin, who in turn looks sympathetically at you. You almost have to laugh at the absurdity of this girl—chubby, undisciplined, victimized, a HUMAN—feeling sorry for YOU of all people…

But as the girls embrace you, laughter turns to tears. It doesn’t matter how determinedly you hold them back—they need out, and they find a way.

“You’re a catch, Kamunu,” Helga reassures you. “A beauty, a dancer, a mind for business… He’s a fool! You’ll find someone else.”

“Yeah, fucker didn’t know how good he had it!” Red Annie cheers you on, pushing a drink into your hand. You sip it gingerly, through sniffles.

“We all owe you a lot,” Grendelia says, and Robin vociferously agrees by the nodding of her head. “We’re here… For you.”

<Heartbreak reduced>
<Heartbreak: 90%>

Eventually, the hugs and hair-petting and gentle or boisterous assurances of your own intelligence, beauty, grace, emotional fortitude, and (Manuela assumes) sexual prowess wind down. The others get ready to return to the stage for the big line-dance. You intend to join it—how can you not, after that? You could never slip away unnoticed!—but first, there’s something else you must do.
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>>5149239
“Lassskar,” you say his name.

The elf turns back to you. He was just about to head up to his perch, to tune and ready his instruments, but his perfectly-symmetrical, slight-uncanny elven features shift to an expression of inquisitiveness.

“Thank you,” you say and, to your surprise, you mean it.

Laskar Endingray smiles, saying “You have good friends here, Kamunu. I know that this isn’t where you plan to stay… That it isn’t ‘home’ to you… But I have felt the stirring of each of their souls, as with yours. There is beauty in theirs, and there is beauty in yours. You only need to foster it, to believe in it. The tree which one waters over the years grows slowly, but it grows largest and lives longest.”

You blink a couple times, then joke “I’ve heard about the Emerald Gladesss, with their towering foresstss. would assume that the tree which iss tended to by an elf growss fasster, though?”

Laskar laughs quietly. “I suppose there may be some truth there.”

You always found elves, at least the pure-blooded sort, a bit… Bland. A bit too ‘perfect’ in ways that never appealed to you. However, Laskar… Looking at his face now, at the kindness in his eyes, at the way he seems to really SEE you… You cannot help it. You step forwards, and you kiss him. At first, he is surprised, unable to form a response… But when he does, when he embraces you and returns the kiss, it is with a skill and passion undeniable. Maybe THAT’S why human females are always losing their mind over these creatures!

However when your hands slide lower, Laskar steps back swiftly. You furrow your brow, but he just smiles with a mixture of kindness and regret.

“Desperation doesn’t suit you,” he says, “and convenience doesn’t suit me. I would love to continue this Kamunu… When your wounds are less fresh.”

‘Oooo, are you fuckin’ KIDDING me?!’ irinnile fumes. ‘I could feel all that mana in that schlong! This son-of-a-dryad has more than EDWIN!”

You suppose that makes sense—elves are magical creatures, after all. And you have to admit, rejection stings you too, if not for the same reasons as it annoys Irinnile.

How do you respond?
>With understanding, and appreciation for his courtesy
>With frustration, storming off to go hunt this hellhound
>With mockery and insults—how DARE he?!
>With magic—you’ll MAKE him want you, and take what you want
>Write-in
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>>5149240
>With understanding, just leave
We got demons to find, demon.


>“Desperation doesn’t suit you,” he says
I bet he never heard of foxanon
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>>5149240
>With understanding, and appreciation for his courtesy
>With magic—you’ll MAKE him want you, and regret letting us slip through his fingers
I can accept waiting, but I definitely want to make him regret not taking us up on our offer. Turn his balls blue with lust, I say!
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>>5149305
Why'd we treat him like this, anon. You didn't even want to screw him in the first place lol
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>>5149315
I still don't, but him rejecting our advances is slightly insulting. I'm just trying to make the man thirsty before we walk out the door, more out of a want to tease and blue ball than to actually screw him before we we leave.
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>>5149338
The elf did nothing wrong.
Better blueball that Incubus of yours for spitting in Ismena's throat.
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>>5149362
What's wrong with a bit of teasing, a bit of thirst for our figure? We're still desirable even if Edwin rejected us, r-right?
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>>5149240
>With understanding, and appreciation for his courtesy
>>
>>5149305
Definitely not in favor of using magic against an elf
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>>5149473
It just a glamour, not mentalist shenanigans. I'm not trying to miderape the bloke, just to emphasize what he's missing out on.
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>>5149489
I'm saying as a magic being he's more likely to be resistant or immune. If you want to do that keep it physical.
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>>5149240
>With mockery and insults—how DARE he?!
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>>5149261
>>5149305
>>5149412
>>5149525

“Perhapss that’ss for the best,” you say, even if you don’t entirely feel that way.

Then, with a wry smile, you add: “Elvesss aren’t ussually my type, anyway.”

“A shame that my entire people should miss out on such a natural wonder,” he replies smoothly, eyes twinkling slightly. “We like those sorts of things, you know.”

“Oh, I know exxxactly what sssorts of things you like,” you say, swinging your hips to give the elf an eyeful of your derriere as you sashay to the stage.

If you can’t have him, you’ll at least make him second-guess his rejection. Certainly, you can detect the spike of lustful desire already. Maybe, MAYBE, you’ll let him have a second shot at you, someday. If you’re feeling generous.

The rest of the shift goes smoothly but, as you so often do, you quickly make your escape after the line-dance. You scoop up your share of tips as you go, for it is always good to have some money on hand and you can no longer rely on anyone else’s allowance. With your backpack full of magical accoutrements and a pocket full of coins, it’s at last time to hunt a hellhound!

On your person, you have:

•A suit of leafweave armour (and several more mudane changes of clothes)
•A Serpent Priest staff
•A protective magical cloak
•A magical diadem granting clarity and control when your perceptions are affected by outside sources
•A demon-trapping scroll-case
•A hidden charm which suppresses your succubus partner’s demonic aura inside you
•An enchanted frost dagger
•A Reptilian-crafted assassin’s blade
•A very small amount of shirin stimulant
•A magical dwarven puzzle-box which has frustratingly eluded your mastery
•A soul-coin usable to carry one soul to or from the afterlife
•A pair of enchanted Inquisitor’s glasses useful for targeting and tracking quarry
•A vial of venom-based suicide-poison

What is you plan to run this hound to ground?
>Summon a hellhound from the Akashic Record to track its fellow
>Attempt to use your Record-gleaned knowledge of hellhound habits to locate its whereabouts
>Find somewhere private and isolated from tracking glasses to summon up Siz-Gamid once more, so she can help you
>Direct one or more of your thrall-mages to investigate likely avenues on your behalf
>Consult with Lord Bianchi, and see how your control of him is holding up
>Write-in
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>>5149856
>Summon a hellhound from the Akashic Record to track its fellow
With
>Consult with Lord Bianchi, and see how your control of him is holding up
As a priority in the morning.
>>
>>5149856
>Attempt to use your Record-gleaned knowledge of hellhound habits to locate its whereabouts

The more demons there are the more likely the inquisition catches on.
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>>5149856
>Attempt to use your Record-gleaned knowledge of hellhound habits to locate its whereabouts
What greenanon said.
>Summon Yemrep to hear all about his Wraith search
I want to hear his report, and possibly redirect him to Incubus so he prepares something for us to summon Siz-Gamid to the farmhouse without her getting spotted.

>>5149399
The scales on our face must be showing, or something.We must make the apess pay for rejecting our ssuperior ansesstry..!
>>5149507
200IQ right here. Laskar overall has that lowkey badass vibe about him and would probably drop that magic like he dropped foxanon's heart.
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>>5149858
>>5149907
>>5150238
The Akashic Record told you little of any preferred earthly habitat for the hounds of hell, but knowing something of their preferred prey… Yes, you think you know where one can be found. These demons prefer the flesh-and-spirit of mortals who are absolutely innocent, or who are greatly stained with so-called sin and with malice. They are opportunistic hunters, stalking their prey for some time before running them down to devour them.

A few likely places attract your attention as likely hunting-grounds for such a beast, but highest among them is:
>The prison complex where the city keeps its delinquents and debtors
>The schoolgrounds and dormitories of the local academies for the young elite
>Goblintown, where many easy prey and where there is no shortage of sin
>Agatha Young’s home—who is more innocent than her? Besides, you can set her up to be bait with a ritual…
>Write-in

As you travel to your chosen hunting-ground, it seems a wise thing to check in on Yemrep’s mission. You delay yourself slightly to hide yourself as you perform the ritual—your hand will heal swiftly enough, provided you do not spill your blood with your magical dagger, but it will not do to be seen summoning demons. Even the few people roaming the streets this late are likely to be on-edge with the word spreading so swiftly about the events at the Gala.

Yemrep oozes into corporeality, and wobbles to attention.

“Mistress!” he greets you. “Oh, the honour, the honour, for one so low and—”

“Did you find the wraith?” you interrupt, tapping your toe in impatience.

“I became… Distracted, I fear. It took my longer than expected… But your intuition was correct! It lurks, it FEEDS, in the great grave-mounds which serves as resting place for so many deliciously-decaying worm-squirming commoner corpses , along the outskirts of town to the southwest.”
“Did you notify it to come to me?” you ask.

Yemrep hesitates, jiggling in place in his viscosity. “I was… Not instructed to do so.”

You glower down at him, but that only makes him squirm in what is all-to—obviously NOT discomfort. You stop.

“It was obviousssly my intent,” you point out.

“I am low, I am spoiled ROTTEN by your attentions! I grew weak, soft, frightened!” Yemrep moans, falling flat upon the ground and writhing. Then, looking up and in a tone more grim, he admits: “I was afraid I would be eaten. I am but an imp, Mistress.

Do you punish Yemrep?
>No, he did satisfactorily—you will retrieve the wraith after the hound
>No, and you will even offer him the symbol of The Incubus’ authority, better to go retrieve that demon for your benefactor
>Yes, but only some light torment
>Yes, with banishment
>Yes, by feeding him to Irinnile instead
>Write-in

Along the way, do you don your leafweave armour?
>Yes—you want to be battle-ready
>No—you wish to be inconspicuous
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>>5150287
>Goblintown, where many easy prey and where there is no shortage of sin

>Yes, but only some light torment
inb4 he just enjoys it
no incubus symbol, I feel like we'll get cucked

>No—you wish to be inconspicuous
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>>5150287
>Goblintown, where many easy prey and where there is no shortage of sin
>Yes, but only some light torment
Kick him in where the crotch should be
>Send him with the message to Incubus. Order to return as soon as he'd done with it.
Tell him we want a thick glasses-proof wall at farmhouse if it can be done, give Yemrep all info necessary.
Mr. Powerful can shit out some metal sheets if he wants Siz-Gamid resummoned.
>Yes—you want to be battle-ready
Hide it under clothes, if possible... or use shapeshifting to hide the armor pieces?

>>5150303
Yeh, not giving anyone the symbol. Can we send him with the message, though?
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>>5150391
[I'm afraid there's no way to hide q full suit of bulky, spiky leather armour under any clothes you own, or via shapeshifting, wothout appearing conspicuously large and lumpy.]
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>>5150287
>The schoolgrounds and dormitories of the local academies for the young elite
If I was angry at being held captive I'd try and target the elite.
>Yes, but only some light torment
>Offer him the symbol of The Incubus’ authority, better to go retrieve that demon for your benefactor
If he abuses the symbol, he will get eaten.
>No—you wish to be inconspicuous
It's better that the authorities don't know anyone is competing with them to find the demons.
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>>5150287
>Goblintown, where many easy prey and where there is no shortage of sin
>Yes, but only some light torment
>No—you wish to be inconspicuous
>>
>>5150454
Why in the hell would you give Incubus' symbol of authority to that cretin when you accept abuse of it as a possibility?
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>>5150639
Because we need that demon with us instead of hunkered down in a graveyard. It'll save us loads of time instead of traveling to pick him up.
>>
Rolled 5, 18, 14, 11, 18 = 66 (5d20)

>>5150303
>>5150391
>>5150454
>>5150526

You decide that letting the crude imp get away with his cowardice and half-measures will only lead to further problems down the line. You need to punish him, if you’re to keep him useful. How can you trust such a cloying, self-interested creature with The Incubus’ symbol of authority, for instance?

Irinnile giggles. ‘Good luck, babe. You won’t break him of that. That’s just demons!’

You frown, but set out to try anyway. You’re no stranger to torture, after all! The problem is that, well… He seems to LIKE it. You try kicking him in the gut, and stomping on where his genitals SHOULD be… But in addition to his body mainly being amorphous lumps, his alarmed shrieks quickly turn to squeals that sound more like pleasure. He try stepping on his head instead, but…

“More, mommy mistress!”

…That. Unable to leach mortal mana from the experience, and with a clear distaste for Yemrep, even Irinnile tires of the lecherous imp quite quickly. You consider wielding a more serious implement, like a magic dagger, against him… But that might simply slay him (or whatever happens when a demon ‘dies’), and render him useless to you. You relent, and simply send him away.

“Are you certain?” he asks, too eager. “I’ve been vewwy, vewwwwy naughty.”

“I am sssure,” you say sullenly, and he is gone.

‘Could threaten him with something he hates next time?’ Irinnile suggests.

You consider you options as you begin the walk to Goblintown. Along the way, you shift your face and features, and pause to change attire into one of your peasant dresses—the green one, you think. When you exit Hawksong proper and enter the outgrowth that is the Goblintown ghetto, you are one more Zithra, the half-orc—the identity you assumed when last you were here. It gets you some glares from the human guards posted at the gate, but they are glowers of prejudice—not suspicion. As far as they’re concerned, you are going where you belong.

Mingling with the rather more active nighttime crowd in this part of town, you use your charm and coin to buy what information you can about attacks, suspicious sightings, or demonic troubles.

[4 politesse, one probability die]
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>>5150760
>18
>18
Luck is on your side, it seems, if not on the side of the goblins, hobgoblins, and orcs of this place. Children of the larger races, and the especially underfed and scrawny greenskinned little goblin runts, have been being picked off. They vanish, but not without a trace: there has been scorched earth, splattered gore, torn fabric. There have been reports of the smell of burning flesh and hair, and of rotten eggs—sulfur. In other parts of town, a party might be mustered to repel such a beast, but goblins and orcs in tis desperate place are accustomed to high fatalities, and seem to have a diminished sense of empathy for one another—perhaps cultural, or innate, or beaten into them.

The Goblintownies’ reticence to take up arms and form a hunting party is probably also related to the heightened guard presence in the area, including (to your dismay) one or two Inquisitors whose pointy caps you spy looming over the mostly-short crowd. It isn’t surprising, in retrospect: you attracted their attention with a fiery raid on demon-cultists here mere days before you framed similar cultists for an attack on the Gala. You studiously avoid the agents of city and Tower, but they will make your own work harder here. Perhaps it is NOT so lucky that the hellhound is in Goblintown, though its fear of capture goes a long way to explain why it is being so cautious and measured in its choice of targets.

What do you do?
>Stay close to ground, work solo, and try to detect the hellhound and to make it an offer of safety
>Team up with Zi the Goblin, the petty criminal with a local network with whom you have had dealings and trysts—her network could prove useful
>Attempt to manipulate the guards and inquisitors into flushing the hellhound out, so you can capture it
>Write-in
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>>5150779
>Team up with Zi the Goblin, the petty criminal with a local network with whom you have had dealings and trysts—her network could prove useful
>>
>>5150779
>Team up with Zi the Goblin, the petty criminal with a local network with whom you have had dealings and trysts—her network could prove useful
>>
>>5150779
>Team up with Zi the Onahole, the petty criminal with a local network with whom you have had dealings and trysts—her network could prove useful
Yay.

>>5150671
You seem blissfully unaware of the consequences of your own actions.
>>
>>5150782
>>5150786
>>5151033
“Well well WELL now, look who it is?” Zi says when she sees you.

The little female goblin, ‘Yen-Zi’ more properly, is leaning against a post in what you’re almost certain she thinks is an imposing stance, studiously avoiding eye contact while eating a slightly-rotten looking apple-pear.

“Zithra Half-Orc,” she says, “don’t suppose your activities are related to all this heat we’re experiencing in Goblintown these days?”

“Zi,” you greet her with a smile. “I would never bring trouble to your home, naturally.”

“And yet here you fucking are, aren’t you?”

She spits out a bit of the fruit, wipes her mouth roughly with a coat-sleeve, and throws the rest away. Wiping her hands off on her pants, she finally looks you straight-on, squaring up. It is… not a very intimidating display. She is, after all, barely more than three feet tall, and skinny to boot.

‘Has some good muscle control where it cunts, though, amirite?’ Irinnile quips with a lascivious titter.

“Come on,” Zi says. “Get on with it. I got shit to do tonight! What do you want?”

“I’m actually here to help YOU,” you say innocently. “I’ve heard you’ve been having… Further isssuess with the occult. Perhapss if there were fewer goblinss exploding into ash and sssulfur, the Inquisssition would lose interessst?”

Zi sniffs, saying nothing for a moment… Then she laughs, once, a barking sound.

“Should have known you’d know SOMETHING about this damned mess. Alright, come on, come on!”

The goblin-girl beckons you down into the half-buried warren of interconnected, haphazardly-placed storerooms and barrack-like bedrooms which serves as a housing complex for her… Family? Clan? Gang? You have yet to properly research or understand the odd and seemingly intimate social structures which define the goblin society in his corner of Hawksong. Whatever the case, you see several adults—male and female—cleaning and diapering scampering goblin-children around a large communal basin in one room, an elder counting coins and distributing foodstuffs in another, and several trades or shelf-restockings with questionably-acquired goods going on in several more as Zi guides you through them.

“Ugh, Zithra, come on! You’re lagging behind!”

You are about to protest—ducking your head and navigating an unfamiliar maze full of rude little people unwilling to move over is hardly a recipe for speed—but Zi takes your hand in hers and begins to pull you along. It speeds things up and, honestly… Holding hands is sort of nice, given all that has gone on recently.

‘We should fuck her again,’ Irinnile unsubtly insists.
>>
>>5151268
You ignore the succubus as best you can. You’re here for business, after all.

Eventually, Zi finds you somewhere private… or relatively-so, at least. In the room are the two goblin twins who, in another guise, you once mugged to secure Roth’s looted amulet when they had attempted to sell it; the female’s hand is still bandaged roughly, where you sliced a deep gash. There is also eye-patched, older goblin male, who you think you recognize.

“Zi,” the older goblin says, looking at you and then back at her, “the fuck is this?”

“I know, I know,” Zi placates him. “Change of plans. We’re not heading into town, but we’re still doing a job.”

“For your half-orc girlfriend?” the young female asks, her brother snorting amusedly.

Zi’s face flushes a deep brown—red blood behind greenish skin, you suppose—and she turns to you and glares.

“Shut up,” she says, “and start taking.”

You stifle a chuckle at the oxymoron, and the blush, and you survey this little crew.

“We’re hunting a hellhound,” you say matter-of-factly.

It draws no small response.

“Woah woah, WOAH, no way!” the young male blurts out.

“Like, what, like we wanna’ fucking DIE or something?” the female asks rhetorically.

“Seems like something the guards and tower stooges in their dunce-caps get paid to do,” the oldest goblin notes, tapping idly upon the leather patch on his face. “Where’s the profit in it for us?”

“Ssafety for your familiess,” you suggest, “and a reducced guard pressence and the departure of the Tower Inquissition.”

“Would be nice to have them not, you know, breathing down our necks…” the female acknowledges.

The four goblins banter back and forth in their rattling, high-pitched Gob-Lang, which Irinnile unfortunately lacks the practical experience to translate for you.
>>
>>5151269
Eventually, the eldest speaks once more in Northern Common-tongue, saying:

“Alright. Interest: piqued. But what’s in it for you? Obviously something, right? You’re half-orc, but you ain’t from here, and you don’t come around just to do us favours. Had q lot of gold on you, from what I heard, too.”

“Lesss sso now,” you acknowledge with a small cringe. You genuinely have only silver and copper coins to your name, qnd only a handful.

“Planning to make some profit off of this, then, huh?” he suggests with a leer.

“Not… Exxxactly,” you say.

“Whatever,” the elder goblin says. “We want a cut.”

What do you do?
>Plead poverty, spin a tale of woe, and claim you are genuinely just here to help Zi and her community
>Pay them off with a jewelry or a magical item (which one?)
>Promise them gold… Later
>Appeal to their community spirit, and attempt to guilt trip them into helping
>Write-in

What is your plan, anyway?
>Use a lone goblin as bait, then ambush the hellhound when it appears
>Spread out to canvass the area, hoping someone gets lucky and spots it, then can signal the others
>Send the goblins to harass and distract the city and tower officials—when they are distracted, you can work more openly to draw the hellhound out with occult methods
>Sacrifice a goblin to feed and win the loyalty of the hound
>Write-in
>>
>>5151270
>Plead poverty, spin a tale of woe, and claim you are genuinely just here to help Zi and her community
maybe not that last one

We can float out this idea
>Use a lone goblin as bait, then ambush the hellhound when it appears
and see if they're agreeable, if not we can do
>Spread out to canvass the area, hoping someone gets lucky and spots it, then can signal the others
>>
>>5151270
>Appeal to their community spirit, and attempt to guilt trip them into helping
All I'm here to do is to help your community, and to do that...
>Sacrifice a goblin to feed and win the loyalty of the hound
...we need a volunteer. Or someone you hate.
>>
[Will be hanging with a friend tonight. Update tomorrow!]
>>
>>5151604
Good for you! Hope you have a nice night out RQM!
>>
>>5151270
>Appeal to their community spirit, and attempt to guilt trip them into helping
I would be willing to tell them the truth, since business is business with these greens. They wouldn't snitch, knowung their anti-guard mentality.
Shame we are gold-less now.
>Spread out to canvass the area, hoping someone gets lucky and spots it, then can signal the others
>Send the goblins to harass and distract the city and tower officials—when they are distracted, you can work more openly to draw the hellhound out with occult methods

>>5151604
Enjoy your friend night, RQM!
>>
Rolled 16, 4, 5, 7 = 32 (4d20)

>>5151948
>>5151326
>>5151309
>Appeal to their community spirit, and attempt to guilt trip them into helping

“My… financial benefactor isss out of the picture,” you say, and truthfully it is the case.

Not that the goblins believe that.

“Oh come on!” the young male groans—Got-Gi was it? Or Qee-Kil?

“You expect us to buy that?” his sister—Qee-Kil? Got-Gi? Which oen was which?—protests.

“Ssearch me if you want,” you say, “but it doesssn’t really matter, doess it? If I can’t pay you, or won’t, will you jusst let a demon roam your sstreetss, eating your neighbourss… Your children?”

“Not our problem,” scoffs the younger male.

“Isssn’t it?” you press. “I’ve sseen firssst-hand the way you goblinsss live… You work to sserve the collective good, even as you bicker amongst yoursselfs. You share resssponsibilitiess, and dutiess, and even windfallsss.”

In some ways, you reflect, the goblins are not so different from Reptilians. For all that humans look down on them—and you can see why, since they and all their possessions ARE covered in a thin layer of dirt, aside from their rough-and-tumble attitudes and obsession with financial gain—they actually seem in some ways MORE organized and civilized. Perhaps it’s the effect of being adjacent to human civilization so long, or perhaps they’ve been forced by circumstance into their communalism… But you’ve seen firsthand how it helps them get things done swiftly and efficiently, if not always tidily. It’s why you came to them.

Now, you just need to win them over.
>>
>>5152302
>Base DC for a moral appal to goblins: 16
“Zith’s got a point,” Zi speaks up in your defence. “This is bad for business, for all of us, and not just business. We have to do something about this.”

It seems you’ve got one of them on your side, at least.

“Well of course you’d say that,” the other female jeers. “The whole fucking PLACE heard you two going at it.”

Zi flushes again, but then narrows her eyes and smirks. “What, jealous?”

“Like hell I am!” the other female snaps back. “Unlike you, I don’t swing off any tall tree.”

Zi fumes, but the older goblin—the eye-patched one—silences her with a gesture.

>16

“Hold up,” he says. “I got kids. You got siblings, and cousins. The half-orc’s got a point.”

The twins groan, but they don’t leave. The elder meets your eyes—well, one eye, anyway—and and asks about your plan.

>Spread out to canvass the area, hoping someone gets lucky and spots it, then can signal the others

“Sounds reasonable,” he says, nodding. “Many hands, light work. I get the gist. But what do we do if we find this… Hellhound?”

“Well, of coursse we will try out best to prevent anyone from coming to harm by whatever means we can,” you say. “Ssomeone should run interference, to prevent guards or the Inquissition from interfering…”

“And why shouldn’t they?” the male twin protests. “Our taxes pay their fucking salaries so they can handle this sort of shit!”

“Bro,” his sister says, “I’m all for letting humies handle this, but we don’t pay taxes.”

“It’s the principle,” he grumbles.

“Exactly fucking right,” Zi chimes in. “What, you want to run to the humans every time anything goes wrong? And then what—they decide we can’t handle our own shit? We’re too much trouble, drive us off? Or maybe all these guards and wiz-kids just hang around FOREVER, getting all up in our affairs?”

“Right,” the old goblin says. “This is Goblintown. We’ll handle this like goblins.”

Zi grins, clearly happy to have this influential old male in her (and by proxy YOUR) corner. The twins grumble again.

“And how do you propose we handle the hellhound once the humans are distracted?” the old goblin asks.

“I have… Meanss. Familiarity with occultissstss and their demonss.”

“It’s true,” Zi points out. “She’s handled ‘em before, after all. We all know it.”

“I’ll trap it, or bind it,” you say.

“And if you can’t?” the old goblin presses, “Or if you aren’t the first one to find it?”
>>
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>>5152322
>Use a lone goblin as bait, then ambush the hellhound when it appears
>(Maybe) sacrifice a goblin to feed and win the loyalty of the hound
>+1 DC

“You run to a pre-arranged sspot,” you say, “luring it into my trap.”

The twins’ griping turns to full-blown mutiny when you answer the next question.

“Oh hells FUCKING no,” the young male says. “No WAY am I playing at bait for some big green half-human Gobtown tourist with a hard-on for evil spirits!

“Yeah, screw this,” the female twin says, spitting on the ground. Her brother joins her in the gesture of rejection. “You guys get your souls et up all you want, but we have actual PROFITABLE plans for tonight.”

Zi scoffs, mocking them: “Cowards! Blowhards!”

The pair gesture obscenely and offensively as they leave the room. Zi turns back to the older male, and you follow her gaze…

But he shakes his head sadly, adjusts his cap and his eye-patch and—with a bit more solemnity—he spits on the ground as well. Then he, too, leaves.

Zi looks back at you. Her expression is conflicted—you can tell she wants to leave, too. But…

>-1 DC for infatuation

“Can we still pull off the plan with you ‘n me,” she asks, “if I play the bait?”

What do you do?
>Go ahead with the plan as is—Zi serves as bait, you keep watch for demons, guards and Inquisitors, and she lures the hound to you so you can then attempt to entrap it
>No, you wish to modify the pan—you don’t want to risk this goblin-girl’s life
>No, this is untenable without the other goblins—you’re just going to sacrifice Zi to the hellhound to buy its loyalty
>Write-in
>>
>>5152324
>No, you wish to modify the pan—you don’t want to risk this goblin-girl’s life
>>
>>5152324
*modify the plan
goddamnit
>>
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>>5152324
>Use a lone goblin as bait, then ambush the hellhound when it appears
>Go ahead with the plan as is—Zi serves as bait, you keep watch for demons, guards and Inquisitors, and she lures the hound to you so you can then attempt to entrap it
No "risk" no fun.

I'm confused about this post. The numbers, RQM! What do they mean?
Not sure if you just played out the rolls in front of us or if we get a bonus or what.

>>5152487
But imagine how good it would feel to plow adrenaline-drunk goblin after we catch that dumb mutt... Also see picrel.
>>
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>>5152497
>>
>>5152500
>the numbers
[I rolled for politesse, with modifers based on your approach. Goblin crooks aren't terribly motivated by altruism, so the DC started higher. A plan that involved a lot of personal danger (and, given the fairly split votes, a somewhat haphazard plan) increased the DC further. HOWEVER, Zi likes you and is attracted to you, so her DC was lower... Allowing you to convince her, but not the others.]
>>
>>5152593
Ok, nice...
>>5152487
Did I mention that she is perfect bait material with her orc dickthirst preventing her from running in fear and fucking things up? It's simple, but brilliant!
>>
>>5152500
>>5152686
Honestly? I don't want to lose another lover after Edwin, but I'm willing to support >>5152500 just to keep the quest moving.
>>
>>5152324
>>Go ahead with the plan as is—Zi serves as bait, you keep watch for demons, guards and Inquisitors, and she lures the hound to you so you can then attempt to entrap it
>>
>>5152324
>Go ahead with the plan as is—Zi serves as bait, you keep watch for demons, guards and Inquisitors, and she lures the hound to you so you can then attempt to entrap it

yeah I kinda knew that wouldn't fly
>>
>>5152324
>Go ahead with the plan as is—Zi serves as bait, you keep watch for demons, guards and Inquisitors, and she lures the hound to you so you can then attempt to entrap it
>>
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>>5152974
>>5152934
>>5152874
>>5152500
>>5152487
It’s not that you WANT anything bad to happen to Zi, but the plan is paramount. You need that devil-dog, and there is nobody else to serve as bait now… So she must. You, on the other hand, must now do double-duty as seeker as watcher: seeking the hellhound out, and watching for interference by the lawful authorities. It is less than ideal, of course, for two people working in close tandem cannot canvass an area in the same way you originally intended… And so, as a result, the process is not nearly so swift or sure as you had hoped.

However, you are not hopeless or helpless. You are something of an occultist yourself, after all, and you have the Akashic Record at your disposal. Hellhounds are simple creatures, as demons go. It is an easy thing to find a perfect ‘nest’ where such a being of angles might hide by finding an especially jagged and angular construction among the rickety, ever-under-maintenance constructions of Goblintown. Then, it is simply a matter of sinking into shadows—something at which you and Irinnile are uncannily adept—and letting Zi appear to be alone. For added verisimilitude, and to serve in your role as watcher, you hang a ways back, and wait.

…And wait.

And wait.

Irinnile makes a show of yawning within your increasingly-weary head, though she (unlike you) has no need even for brief torpor. You can’t help but agree with the sentiment, both because you are tired and because, frankly, you are bored. You relent, giving up on this likeliest spot and instead scouting the scenes of previous attacks for a clue. This, too, proves a dead end, but for a different reason: you cannot get close, for the damned guards and their Inquisitorial aides are lurking quite close to many of these spaces, obviously also hoping to catch a whiff of burning flesh and brimstone and to bag their (rather, YOUR) quarry.
>>
>>5153228
“Maybe we should call it?” Zi suggests. “Can always try again tomorrow night… I mean, if you’re sticking around and seeing this through.”

You quietly seethe. You don’t have time to waste like this! There are two more demons to acquire to complete your pact, so you can return in glorious triumph to your Reptilian overlords. Worse yet, if they are captured by the Inquisition… Well, who knows what they could learn.

‘And there’s still your gramps to kill,’ Irinnile notes, as if you weren’t already feeling overwhelmed.

It is by earliest light of dawn, when you have almost consigned yourself to failure and delay, that fate or fortune brings you welcome relief. You smell it before you see it, placing a hand upon Zi’s shoulder and drawing her back. She immediately goes silent as well, sensing the same scent or else taking your lead.

There, across the street, a flame smoulders unattended in a dark and shadowed corner. It flits away, vanishing, and appearing in a corner across the street. It is like a will o’ th’ wisp, a mote of flame, but you know its true identity by the smell like a diabolic barbecue: the hellhound, laying low, avoiding sunlight and scrutiny as it returns to its hiding place. It brings you no small satisfaction to realize it is likely headed back to where you were first looking for it—you were not wrong! It must have been hunting… Maybe even successfully.

Luckily for you, though, a hellhound’s hunger is never sated. Like Irinnile in her way, they always <WANT> for more.

‘I just have a healthy appetite,’ Irinnile grouses. ‘I’m a growin’ girl!’

You push Zi forward gently, and she looks at you in terror and distress. You offer a reassuring, tusky smile. Trusting you—Zithra—she gulps and strides out into the open, making a show of not noticing the mote as she strides into the pitch-black, within easy reach.

The mote—the hound—stops moving and flickering so rapidly. Instead, it stays put, separating into two… Two orbs. Two eyes, now watching Zi. Zi begins to whistle and to rock ‘innocently’ and quasi-ignorantly on her heels, as if idle or awaiting someone. It would be plainly obvious as a trap to anyone else, but… Well, hellhounds are barely more than doglike in their intelligence, and they are ruled by their appetite.

‘Really startin’ to resent that comparison the more I think about it,’ Irinnile grumbles.
>>
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>>5153230
Eventually, the devil-dog flickers away, out of your line of sight again. You cat your eyes about, and find its glow diminished, and a larger shadow shape forming around its eyes in a corner closer to Zi. Now, the goblin-girl cannot help but take obvious notice. Fear seizes her, and she reaches for a hidden blade and begins to scamper away, but it is too little and too late: the hellhound’s maw of thorny teeth its proboscis-like tongue, its strange and almost horse-like mane of burning bristles have formed, and its predatory face is spread wide in a rictus grin that spells death for snack-sized humanoids.

‘Shit,’ Irinnile says, mildly peeved at worst by her non-chalant tone, ‘I don’t think we have time to flash the Incubus symbol at it before our gobbo gets got, babe.’

What do you do?
>Begin drawing the symbol with illusion magic, to display to the demon—Zi will PROBABLY fend it off long enough for you to complete your task
>Run in, shift your shape, and reveal yourself as the ‘Liberator’ who freed the hellhound from the Tower
>Tackle the hellhound, risking injury by magical means, to restrain the hound and to (if need be) capture it in your scroll-case
>Write-in
>>
>>5153233
>Tackle the hellhound, risking injury by magical means, to restrain the hound and to (if need be) capture it in your scroll-case

Let's go full Sid on him. But in all honesty, he should know our scent when we get close enough.
>>
>>5153233
>Tackle the hellhound, risking injury by magical means, to restrain the hound and to (if need be) capture it in your scroll-case

Can we whisper to it when we tackle? Namedrop Siz-Gamid, say we're a buddy so it should calm down and please not claw us to bits.
>>
>>5153233
>>Begin drawing the symbol with illusion magic, to display to the demon—Zi will PROBABLY fend it off long enough for you to complete your task
>>
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Rolled 7, 20, 20, 20, 19, 17, 4, 11, 5, 4, 18, 8, 17, 7, 14, 12 = 203 (16d20)

>>5153403
>>5153510
>>5153572
[2 dice for how well Zi fares before you get there, 4 for politesse, 4 for melee, 5 for occultism, and one [REDACTED] roll]
>>
>>5153916
>3 nat 20s in a row

There is no mistake, the Dark Gods clearly approve of our actions! Praise be to their glory!
>>
>>5153916
You start to draw the sigil, but you’re too frantic—to distracted. Zi the Goblin is inches away from snapping jaws, narrowly avoiding them again and again.

>20 for Zi

Luckily, she is scrappy and experienced. She kicks the hellhound in its face, spring-boarding off of its head and flipping onto her feet with cat-like grace. Dagger drawn, she lashes out and gouges the hound’s face, cutting it across both eyes. Those fiery pits surely feel little pain, and if the hound is anything like your own demon-possessed body, it will regenerate shortly from a non-magical wound like that, but it buys the little green female time. It certainly stuns and disorients it.

“Zithra!” she shout-whispers, not wanting to cry out too loudly in case it draws attention from other quarters—guards or visiting mages, for instance.

You take her meaning. You can wait no longer, and you’ll never have a better opportunity than this. You leap into the fray yourself, removing your scroll-case from your backpack as you close the distance.

>11 for melee

The hellhound is still reeling, still regenerating its marred visage, when you leap upon it. It instantly bursts into hellish fire, snarling and keening. You are unharmed by the flames, but your dress is destroyed utterly and almost instantly, and you are hurled to the ground.

>DOUBLE CRITICAL, plus two more successes for politesse, and a clever write-in

“SSSTOP!” you cry, and your voice reverberates with Irinnile’s own—and with her power. The hellhound, which was slavering with desire to rip you asunder, stops short. IT scents the air, and tilts its head.

“You,” it says.

“Me,” you exhale in relief, lowering the arms you’d thrown up as a desperate defence. When you raise them again, it is to draw a symbol in the air—the symbol of The Incubus. “You remember me?”

The hellhound just makes a gruff-sounding grunt, almost a bark. You take it for a positive acknowledgement, since it has ceased attacking you.

“I have already retrieved your jailer,” you half-lie, “and I’m here for you, too. To lead you to… Our benefactor, and away from the dangersss of thiss placce.”

“Many prey,” it notes of this place. “Green flesh, soft, good little bones. Crunchy.”

“Many dangerousss human magess, too,” you point out.

The hound huffs again, and then takes a step back as you hold up the scroll-case.

“Trussst me,” you say. “We’re on the ssame sside.”
>>
>>5153947
It seems that it does, for when you pop open the scroll case, it only hesitates for a moment before bowing its head and ‘shutting’ its by-now-healed eyes--more accurately, their flame dims considerably.

“I will need your true name,” you say, chancing it. You don’t, but…

>Those crits

“Brezzog,” the hellhound says, with nary a hesitation.

>18 for occultism

You speak the incantation to ‘imprison’ Brezzog, however temporarily, in the scroll-case. The demon thus secured and hidden from prying eyes, you cap the case and tuck it back into your pack.

>12 for probability

You look about quickly, hoping the coast is clear. You see no guards and, blissfully, no agents of the Tower either: only Zi, peaking out from behind a pile of discarded construction materials, food waste, and other unsorted Goblintown trash.

“Holy fucknuts,” she says. “Gods’-fucking-gallstones. How did you… What did you…”

“No time,” you reply, a tad snappily. “Get me ssomewhere out of ssight?”

Zi takes in your near-nakedness. You can see that this only raises further questions for the goblin-girl—your clothes are obviously burned, your shapeshifted, green-tinted body pristine. Furthermore, Irinnile neglected to shapeshift you a certain ‘asset’ with which Zi is by now intimately familiar: your genitals are largely unchanged from their default state. Still, the goblin has the good sense to nod and beckon to you, leading you through a series of narrow side-streets at a breakneck pace. When dawn’s light crests the city-adjacent a shanty-town, you are already hidden away in a half-constructed domicile.

“There was already some gobs living in here,” she confides, “but I chased ‘em off and paid ‘em off. We’re alone.”

You smile and nod, grateful for that much. The entire scuffle and escape was mercifully brief, but you still need a moment’s rest. You were already running on fumes, physically and mentally.

“Now, what was all…” Zi gestures to you—all of you—“THAT? Who are you? What… WHAT are you?”

“Zi,” you say, “calm down, and I’ll—”

“CALM DOWN?” she practically screeches, tugging on her oversized ears the way a frustrated human might pull at their hair. “You’re a, a…”

You interrupt her stammering with a kiss. She hesitates, but then melts into your familiar-yet-unfamiliar embrace—quieted for a moment, though she makes a muffled squeak of confused pleasure.

What do you do?
>Tell her (sort of) the truth: you are an occultist, working for a spooky benefactor, and you have a demon inside you
>Tell Zi a lie, explaining it all as anti-demon magic you learned to better fight occult threats
>Modify her memory of the most recent events [remember, goblins have a degree of magic resistance]
>Quiet her concerns with a kiss, and reward her with a sexual romp
>Kill her—she knows too much
>Write-in
>>
>>5153953
>Tell her (sort of) the truth: you are an occultist, working for a spooky benefactor, and you have a demon inside you

>Specifically, a pleasure demon.. if you want to have some fun, again.
>>
>>5153953
>Quiet her concerns with a kiss, and reward her with a sexual romp

Hell yea, we all deserve a reward for all those nat 20s!
>>
>>5153953
>>Tell Zi a lie, explaining it all as anti-demon magic you learned to better fight occult threats
>>
>>5153953
>Tell her (sort of) the truth: you are an occultist, working for a spooky benefactor, and you have a demon inside you
>Tell her you can shapeshift
I mean, she saw the orcussy, might as well.
>Quiet her concerns with a kiss, and reward her with a sexual romp
I really wish Irinnile, being the nymphodemon, didn't forget to give Zithra a permanent dick. Ah well, at least we're one step closer to closing the gap between Z and Ismena, the whole shapeshifting/fake identity would backfire eventually.

I mean, we still need Zithra for Goblintown, but Zi in private is a different story.

>>5153947
>“You,” it says.
Awww, can we adopt him
>>
Rolled 19, 15, 2, 6 = 42 (4d20)

>>5154115
>>5153968
>>5153961
>>5153959
>>
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>>5154373
I forgot to ask yesterday, but how do the probability and environmental rolls work? Do they determine how "lucky" Ismena is or how powerful the negative effects are?
>>
>>5154373
When the kiss is broken, the greenish eyes which meet yours are still filled with suspicion.

“I’m not just gonna’ drop the subject lickety-spit because you gave me a smooch, you… You…”

“Occultissst,” you admit.

“Yeah!” Zi exclaims, pointing accusatorily. “That! You’re one of them demon-botherers, just bringing trouble down on us! I bet you even summoned the sulphuric son-of-a-bitch that almost ate me!”

It’s not THAT far from the truth, but there are other aspects of the situation which, by strategically admitting to, and help exonerate you.

“It’s not that simple,” you say. “I didn’t summon it, and I genuinely did come here to prevent the hellhound from causssing anyone further trouble… At the behessst of my new employer, who wantss me to bring it back.”

It’s close enough to the actual events, you rationalize. Zi, however, doesn’t accept this as a suitable excuse.

“So you’re just dragging all of us greenskins into your big dumb turf war with the occultists whose operation you burned down last time—is that it?” She scoffs, turning away and crossing her arms. “I oughtta’ turn you in, get myself a heap of gold and some kind’ve amnesty while I still can.”

You reach out, cupping her face and bringing Zi’s eyes back to yours.

“But you haven’t yet,” you say, “and you won’t, or you wouldn’t have said anything. You’d be gone by now.”

Zi stares at you in furious silence at being found out…

>19

But her expression melts as you caress her cheek, her chin, her earlobes, and finally slide your fingers into her bird’s nest of hair. When next you kiss, she wraps her around you as far as they can, and the goblin and returns to embrace with equal enthusiasm. Before long, both her hands and yours are moaning one another’s bodies, and she is laying atop you.

“You’ve been a great help,” you whisper into her oversized, pointed ear. “I think you dessserve a reward.”

“Uh, so what happened to…” Zi begins to ask. “How are we supposed to… I’ve never been with like, a WOMAN woman.”

‘On it!’ Irinnile says quickly.

“An ability attained through my sstudiess,” you explain, “iss the pleassure demon bound to me… One who grantsss me the ability to shapeshift.”

“What do you—WOAH!”

Zi stares down at the sexual organ is even now growing from where your more traditionally-female genitalia was a moment ago. She stares with morbid (and ravenous) fascination as it takes form before her very eyes. You have to admit, the sight is… Novel for you, too, and the sensations are still quite unusual.

“Well hell’s bells,” Zi says, sliding down and licking her lips with eyes as hungry as that of the hellhound’s own. “Maybe demons aren’t all bad, huh?”
>>
>>5154408
<WANT: 13>

It is morning by the time the two of you are done with one another. You are covered in construction dust and sweat, Zi’s clothes scattered everywhere. Both of you are out of breath, the goblin curled against your bosom and half-awake at best.

“That’s some reward,” she sighs dreamily.

You can only smirk in agreement while you pet her hair.

“So what happens now?” Zi asks.

“I deliver our quarry to my employer,” you say.

“Right away?” Zi asks, sitting up and blinking a couple times. “You know, there’s this little gambling parlour where this one gob makes this wormwood brew—not too much, you know, just enough to mingle all good-like with the booze—and I was… I was thinking, maybe, you know…”

What do you do?
>Shut Zi down—this is a casual fling, for when you’re in Goblintown on business, but you have no interest in getting your heart broken all over again by a mammalian lover [-affection]
>Agree to take Zi up on the date… Later, as you have business to attend to for now [+affection]
>You don’t actually have an explicit TIMEFRAME to get back to The Incubus… What’s a few more hours in Goblintown? This date sounds fun! [++affection]
>Let Zi down gently, explaining that you’re just not ready for that kind of commitment yet, but keeping the door open for later
>Write-in

>>5154391
A bit of both. I usually spread out probabilities across a range of 1 to 20, determining with extremes being either very good or very bad for The Infiltrator and mid-ranges being either slightly good, slightly bad, or neutral. A 1 would have been guards and inquisitors, a 5 would have been just inquisitors, a 7 or 8 would have been just guards, and a 9 or 10 would have been Goblintown witnesses. A 19 or 20 would have been you or Irinnile realizing you were naked fast enough to materialize some clothes and/or a dick to avoid Zi catching on.
>>
>>5154415
>Agree to take Zi up on the date… Later, as you have business to attend to for now [+affection]
Tell her the hellhound and our employer literally can't wait now. True and she saw the guards and inquisitors snooping all over the place to back it up.
That being said,
>Agree to grab a drink with her before departing
A couple minutes won't hurt, unless Chase arrives to Goblintown right in front of us and smells the scroll from afar... which is veery unlikely to happen. Right..?


>1 to 20, determining with extremes being either very good or very bad for The Infiltrator
Still sounds bit vague. To clarify, do environmental 20s always benefit us, or do you sometimes flip it? Sorry if I already asked about this in the past and forgot.
>A 19 or 20 would have been you or Irinnile realizing you were naked fast enough to materialize some clothes and/or a dick
Didn't know I needed to hear this, but I'm glad I did. For some reason my autistic mind loves knowing exactly what the outcomes behind rolls are and I find it more fun than experiencing things blindly, but that's probably just me.
>>
>>5154415
>Agree to take Zi up on the date… Later, as you have business to attend to for now [+affection]
>>
>>5154475
>To clarify, do environmental 20s always benefit us, or do you sometimes flip it?

[I pretty much just make a table whenever I'm doing such a roll, if I haven't already decided a probable outcome. Sometimes I flip it, usually if I'm "rolling for" an adversary, like an enemy's spot check or attack roll, but I don't do that often. It's just there when I'm worried that it would be too railroady or overly-convenient to just decide a good or bad thing happened outside of your direct control.]
>>
>>5154415
>Agree to take Zi up on the date… Later, as you have business to attend to for now [+affection]

Great and holy dragonborn still just chilling on a farm waiting for us to finish our shit
>>
>>5154415
>>Shut Zi down—this is a casual fling, for when you’re in Goblintown on business, but you have no interest in getting your heart broken all over again by a mammalian lover [-affection]
>>
>>5154605
Thanks for clarifying!
>>
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>>5154475
>>5154559
>>5154614
>>5154616

“That ssoundss…”

It sounds lovely, actually. Maybe it’s the lingering angst and emptiness following Edwin’s rejection (or maybe THAT is just the echo of Laskar Endringray’s words), but you’d love nothing better than to go to a den of iniquity and to get tipsy and high with this endearing little criminal.

“That ssoundss like a wonderful idea… When I’m done attending to busssinesss.”

But duty calls. Duty always calls, and your loyalty to the Reptilian Master Race and the Dark Gods always takes priority, especially with Paladins and Inquisitors breathing down your neck and two more demons yet to retrieve.

“Right, yeah,” Zi says, looking away. “I get it. Yeah. Business is business is business.”

You can tell she DOES get it, despite obvious being a bit disappointed. She climsb off of you and sets about retrieving her clothes.

“I’ll go get you something to wear, huh?” she suggests.

“No need,” you say, pulling some out of your (lightly-singed) bag. You still have the floral, white-and-green peasant dress that Dame Albacete provided you.

“Huh,” Zi comments on the honestly-fairly-pedestrian dress. “Ritzy.”

You tilt your head and smile at the greenish little street-rat and her charming notion of what constitutes fancy attire. Maybe you’ll have to do something about that misconception someday… When you have ample income again.

For now, you squeeze her hand by way of unspoken thanks, and the two of you go your separate ways. As you leave, though, your thoughts linger.

<Zi Affection: 55%>
<Heartbreak: 85%>

It is early morning. You’ve been in town for a few days since you left the Dragonborn, his creator Henzler, and the dwarven master-stone in Alhazred’s care, and all of them in the care of The Incubus. Two demons necessary to complete your pact remain on the loose, and a Paladin is competing with you to acquire them. The Yosefs remain alive, and POSSIBLY in cahoots with the Archmage to uncover the truth of the Reptilian conspiracy.

You are also physically fatigued, and hungry.

What’s your next move?
>Check in with one or more of your mage-thralls for an update [who?]
>Report back to Roth or Albacete, and mooch some food and a bed [which one?]
>Catch up with Yemrep, and have him lead you to where the wraith is hiding
>Visit Bianchi to check in on his entrhallment, and to see if his occult tomes contain any details on the final, mantid-like demon
>Pay Lord Yosef a long-overdue visit
>Write-in
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>>5154832
>Pay Lord Yosef a long-overdue visit

gods > dragonborn
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>>5154832
>Catch up with Yemrep, and have him lead you to where the wraith is hiding
>Catch up with Felman through ectophone
Idk what's the name of it
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>>5154832
>Visit Bianchi to check in on his entrhallment, and to see if his occult tomes contain any details on the final, mantid-like demon
>Check in with one or more of your mage-thralls for an update [Felman, Henzler]
>>
>>5154832
>>Pay Lord Yosef a long-overdue visit
>>
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>>5154861
>>5154871
>>5155103
>>5155120

Your first course of action is to check in on a couple of your thralls by way of the connection between Irinnile and the various fragments of her demonic essence—her ectoplasm—deposited in your victims. You’ve been somewhat worried about the state of the Dragonborn, who by your brief acquaintance at least seems a somewhat simple-minded being. You can’t begrudge him, of course—this malformed, mutated chimera may be a scion of the Great Green Dragon of old, but he was also apparently raised like a mere beast in a hidden pit beneath the Hawksong Mages’ Tower. It is a miracle of the Dark Gods that he can speak and reason at all!

Luckily, as you settle into a meditative state outside Hawksong’s walls, you glimpse a less anxious and agitated Dragonborn than you expected. Gazing through Head Chimericist Henzler’s eyes, you see a being cowed and pliant. In some ways, it’s troubling, for despite his noble lineage and the freedom you have brought him, the twenty-foot draconian entity is still obviously intimidated by his… Creator? Handler? Even enthralled, Henzler’s presence in the dimly-lit space which you take to be an emptied-out farmhouse leaves him demure and deferential. It’s not all bad, though, for you see that Alhazred has taken to instructing this Great One in enunciation lessons, and is reading some sort of scroll with the Dragonborn leaning over his shoulder and following along.

“This is the history and mysticism of our people,” Alhazred explains carefully and slowly in Reptilian Truespeech. “This is your noble lineage.”

“Nawwwble hayritooj,” the Dragonborn tentatively agrees, nodding along slowly and with half-comprehension.

“Can you not fixx hiss mind?” you ask Henzler along the link.

Henzler jerks somewhat, shifting your view and drawing the twitchy attention of Alhazred’s titanic student.

“I… Cannot,” you hear her say across the link. “It is beyond my alchemy, because it is no biological impairment. It is a matter of study.”

‘What about his gimpy arm?’ Irinnile asks, referring to the Dragonborn’s one shriveled and reduced limb. ‘Or his hunch, or where they, like, chopped off his wings or whatever?’

Henzler seems to hear the question as well as you do, for you see the view through her eyes shift again as she nods.

“I could remedy these afflictions…” she says. “I never knew how to go about it using human samples, or those deteriorated samples of the old dragon… Nor mundane reptiles or drakes. But now… With this man who smells of the same or related bloodlines…”
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>>5155249

Alhazred looks up with a start, only hearing Henzler’s side of the conversation. In Norther Common-tongue, he says: “Are you speaking with the one called Rosgard? What are you talking about? What about me?”

“Silence for a moment,” Henzler snaps. “I am consulting with your superior.”

“She is… Not exactly my superior, in that specific sense you imply,” the male Degenerate says.

“I would need some things from my laboratory, also,” Henzler notes. “The facilities here are not exactly pristine, nor well-equipped.”

She looks around at the barren farmhouse, devoid of basic amenities save farm implement, straw, a few tied farm-animals, some boxes or bags of what you take to be rations, and a bucket, which Henzler’s nose informs you as to the purpose of.

What do you do?
>Tell Henzler to sit tight—leaving the farmhouse is a risk, and you don’t want her meddling without supervision
>Instruct Alhazred to subject himself to examination, but refuse to let Henzler leave
>Allow Henzler to return to her lab to fetch some things—fixing the defects of the Dragonborn will only make your return more triumphant
>Write-in
>>
>>5155250
Next, you seize the senses of Inquisitor Felman. You find him in attendance of a meeting with other Inquisitors, and with one burly and armoured man of chinsome face who you recognize as that once-encountered Paladin known as Sir Chase—your rival in the ongoing demon-hunt.

“No luck with the leads in Goblintown?” Chase asks, scoffing. “What good are you bookish lads—and lasses, sorry, but the point stands—if you can’t snatch up a single demon without my aid?”

“With due respect,” huffs a female Inquisitor, “what good are YOU, then, Sir Paladin? You’ve not exactly got a collection of demons to your name, either. You even failed to capture one who was already wounded and in your sights.”

Sir Chase fumes a little, glowering at her. “Wasn’t it YOUR bloody glasses that were meant to be locked upon the fiend, INQUISITOR?”

That stops her in her tracks, and she stammers. “I… I don’t know how, but my glasses seem to… Have malfunctioned.”

You smirk. Felman followed your instructions. Sir Chase, though, scoffs and rolls his eyes.

“If you don’t know how to operate your own equipment,” he says, “just admit it, girl.”

“GIRL?” she fumes. “How old are you to call me ‘girl’, you pompous, chauvinistic, blue-blooded, intellectually-deficient—”

“That will be quite enough, Inquisitor Eierkuchen!”

Felman turns his head, but you already knew the voice: the Head Inquisitor.

“Yes,” Sir Chase agrees with perhaps a bit too much glee, “calm yourself, GIRL.”

The female Inquisitor storms out, while Sir Chase simply grins after her, waggling his eyebrows in a mocking expression.

“I think perhaps we could all do with some rest” says the Head Inquisitor then—a long-faced and wispy-bearded older male human with tinted glasses.

Sir Chase stretches, setting off a chain of yawns and sympathetic stretches among the other attendees.

“Yes, quite,” Sir Chase says. “Demons are most active at night. They’ll have gone to ground. Better hunting will be had in the evening.”

“We know that already,” mutters another member of the Inquisition. “Does he think we don’t?”

Felman, under your influence and thus distracted, only nods. When the room clears out, Felman exits with the rest of the crowd, and immediately seeks somewhere private at your mental encouragement.

“Report,” you command him. “What have you learned?”

“A hellhound or some similar demon was suspected to be prowling the outskirts of town, harassing travelers and feeding upon goblins and orcs,” he says, with a small tinge of professional bitterness to his tone, “but the trail has gone cold.”

Your smirk becomes a grin, but you say nothing more on that subject.
>>
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>>5155251
“On the subject of the Archmage, though…” he continues

What Felman tells you next fills you with far less satisfaction. While his opportunities for subterfuge have been limited given his demon-hunting duties (and his sabotaging of that same investigation), the rumours say that The Archmage is pursuing an alternate lead to the ‘Southern Demonist Hypothesis’… At the home of the auspicious but these days reclusive Lord Isaac Yosef.

‘Aw shit,’ Irinnile murmurs.

It is on that note that you conclude a visit to Lord Yosef—your paternal grandfather, a man uniquely wise to the Reptilian Conspiracy—is long overdue. You instruct Felman to continue his efforts to undermine Sir Chase and the Inquisition, and to keep himself apprised of any developments. Further, you order him to stay well away from Lord Yosef’s manor, and to ensure that all others due likewise if he can. Then, knowing he will obey, you sever the connection as the Inquisitor shuts his eyes, and open your own eyes once more.

How will you approach Lord Yosef?
>As his confidant and fellow conspiracy theorist, paying him a friendly visit to discuss recent developments
>Silently and stealthily—it’s time to end his threat once and for all, with no more delicacy than necessary
>Indirectly—you will visit his daughter, Lady Miriam Vaz, and get at him through her
>Send Tower Guardian Lithobathius and his beholder-spider as spy and assassin, piloting him remotely to do what must be done
>Write-in
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>>5155250
>Instruct Alhazred to subject himself to examination, but refuse to let Henzler leave
>Allow Henzler to return to her lab to fetch some things—fixing the defects of the Dragonborn will only make your return more triumphant
The Dragonborn needs to be fixed.

>>5155252
>As his confidant and fellow conspiracy theorist, paying him a friendly visit to discuss recent developments
Ectoplasm him, and we have the ears of the Archmage to mislead while we learn of his progress in his investigation. If we kill him, we only confirm the Archmage's suspicions on the true culprits of Gala Heist. Best keep it to a demon narrative.
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>>5155250
>Tell Henzler to sit tight—leaving the farmhouse is a risk, and you don’t want her meddling without supervision

Serpent priests can try their hand at it before she does, or use her as they see fit.

>>5155252
>Indirectly—you will visit his daughter, Lady Miriam Vaz, and get at him through her
D-D-D-Doublekill
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>>5155250
>Instruct Alhazred to subject himself to examination, but refuse to let Henzler leave
But no cutting without anaesthesia.
If we can, then retroactively
>Ask Felman to look at Henzler's workplace to see if she can safely return for some things
>>5155252
I'll second (>>5155279), for good thinking. The only way we can safely take out Isaac is by dying him of old age... and I bet we can start meddling with his health with ectoplasm.

Also foxanon, please consider sending Felman to the lab first, cause there is a high chance Hezler will be caught if she tries to move her equipment across the town without any prep.
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>>5155457
Alrighty, though I would hope that she would attempt to keep up appearances, being Head of a Research Division and all that.

Do we really need to meddle with his health? He's old, he'll probably die from natural causes soon enough anyway. Why not let him repair his relationship with his estranged family before he pays his due to the reaper?

>>5155250
I'm modifying >>5155279's Henzler vote to
>Instruct Alhazred to subject himself to examination
>Ask Henzler what she needs from her lab, and get another thrall to fetch them—fixing the defects of the Dragonborn will only make your return more triumphant

Henzler should still try to keep up appearances with the Tower to avoid suspicion, in case she hasn't already been doing that.
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>>5155469
>attempt to keep up appearances
Did you forget she was TOLD to take a paid leave and not return till she's recovered?
>Do we really need to meddle with his health?
Yes. Help him pass away unless you want the other anon to murder them all instantly with a kitchen knife and make the Archmage take the Reptilian threat seriously.
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>>5155476
>Did you forget she was TOLD to take a paid leave and not return till she's recovered?
I don't remember those specific words, but if you mean taking time to refresh herself and her mana, sure. I don't think she should be abnormal or suspicious with her 'paid leave' though.
>Help him pass away unless you want the other anon to murder them all instantly with a kitchen knife and make the Archmage take the Reptilian threat seriously.
A heart attack just after the Gala would still make his death suspicious though. He needs to still be alive when the Archmage decides that his suspicions are bunk to fully put this to rest.

>>5155250
Just a quick question QM. How is the position of Archmage filled by the way? I'm curious how the Tower as an institution determines it's leader, to help give us a rough idea of his powerlevel and expertise.
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>>5155488
>abnormal or suspicious
How many days passed ever since?
>heart attack
>just after
Very specific assumptions and I believe incorrect, too. Just make him feel sick for now, it will be a plausible cause for less communication between the two and drop in Isaac's helpfullness overall.
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>>5155499
>How many days passed ever since?
I don't know, like 2?
>Just make him feel sick for now, it will be a plausible cause for less communication between the two and drop in Isaac's helpfullness overall.
We can probably use Yosef to misdirect the Archmage's own investigation, and pick his mind to figure out what he really knows and is investigating specifically. Just a thought.
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>>5155511
Yeah I don't think it would be out of character for her to keep to herself after years of her work were ruined. The real issue here is the fact, that once she returns, her split-attention (actual work vs. leaving to go to the farmhouse) might be picked up by someone. But whatevs, it's not something all that risky or important.
She can easily hold off for a day or two while Felman scouts the floor and finds out how to go about it, given the investigation and what has been established.
>We can probably use Yosef
Yeah, definitely. As I said, I don't want to kill him now as (in addition to being suspicious) it would hinder our ability to stop the Archmage. I just want the inconspicuous and obvious reason for his death for when the time comes, and it perfectly aligns with us trying to slow down and/or misdirect Dumbledore.
In case I wasn't clear - Isaac's health dips could be used to cut their meetings short if necessary and (if we decided to go that route) crazy fever ramblings would make Archmage question the validity of all the things the old man says with no way to fact-check.
>misdirect
As for this, I suggest we re-read Isaac's book/s to know all his weird Reptilian theories and focus on them them to make the information about our race as nonsensical and useless as possible.
Also let RQM write some more funny shit.

>>5155252
Do all reptilians who take human form appear as foreigners? Ismena, Roth, Alhazred, Chica ;c and all the brave background Degenerates we've got for Gala look like southeners, with skin color being implied as potential lizard heritage.
Also, I've been to the archive and just noticed the variety of names and adjectives you used to describe Ismena in every description there. Small thing, but pretty fun to read. And the tags are amusing, too.
Here's the archive link, since it's not in the OP: https://lws.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=ReptoidQM
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>>5155511
Hey I have an idea for a spin-off thread. Sending Felman to the void to save Chica.
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>>5155279
>>5155289
>>5155457

You contemplate your approach to the extermination of the Yosefs and their threat. When the Dark Gods gifted you their Divine Favour and Akashic Record for your dutifulness, they did not give the gifts freely. Rather, they gave you a mission: to eliminate the bloodline of Yosef, as their ancestor had aided the first Paladin King in slaying the Great Green Dragon in ages past. Even without this dictate, it might have become necessary, thanks to Lord Yosef’s knowledge of the conspiracy. That knowledge was muddled, admittedly—Yosef knew Reptilian shapeshifters to be real, and suspected their purpose in his city, but he truly knew little else. So too were your feelings on the matter muddled: he was your grandfather, and a man motivated by the terrible loss of his son, whom your mother had seemingly loved.

<Heartbreak: 85%>

You can empathize with that particular brand of weakness now more than ever, and thus with the affinity she must have felt for the Yosef family. A part of you persistently dwells upon whether Yosef and his bloodline could be killed mercifully, quickly and without pain or the understanding of their dark fate…

And anyway, if the Archmage is really considering Lord Yosef’s ‘theories’ about the real culprits of the Gala Attack and subsequent lab raid, killing the old merchant-lord now would only embolden further speculation.

‘We could do the thing?’ Irinnile suggests.

You nod. Yes, the ectoplasm trick… Enthralling Yosef will do the trick! If need be, you can engineer a decline in his health, or a sudden fall… or else you can just use him as another spy, and a means to misdirect the Tower’s greatest figure. After all, you can surmise that the Archmage must be a powerful spellcaster—Pavlov and Henzler were, and no other Tower Mage has been a pushover either. You have no idea how the Tower choose their headman, but this human must be fearsome opponent to face directly, and you plan to avoid that if at all possible.

That’s right! You aren’t keeping Yosef alive out of contemptible human sentimentality, but out of cold, intellectual Reptilian strategy!

(You ignore Irinnile’s skepticism, radiating across your psychic link)
>>
>>5155643
It will help your cause, you reason, that all the other Degenerates at the Gala were born of (or sired by?) foreign, Southern humans. Their skin-tones are darker than your own, already darker than typical for a Northern human as a result (you suspect) of your paternal grandmother and (you hypothesize) enhanced or amplified by your mother’s own golden-brown scales. It is an easy, sensible lie with a grain of truth that the attack was one by Southern demon-worshippers. The Archmage may suspect otherwise thanks to Yosef’s own dogged crusading against a Reptilian menace but, well… One theory has ample evidence, and the other only rampant speculation, which you will now further discredit.

You take a moment to stop your pacing and to dip into an alley. There, you take a moment to extract a jar of topical oil and to rub it across your body. The ritual calms you, and eliminates any possibility of scaly patterns emerging across your skin and thus giving away the game.

You also take the opportunity to make a decision about Henzler’s request: you send her a missive across your demonic channels, instructing her to study Alhazred (but only to the extent possible without endangering him, or requiring anaesthesia), but to hold off on any further action until Felman first scouts her laboratory. To Felman, you send a related command.

Then, finished attending to matters cosmetic and chimerical, you emerge and approach the gate of the Yosef estate. Your game-face is on in more ways than one.

“I am sorry,” the thickly-sideburned old servant tells you at the gate, “but Lord Yosef is otherwise occupied, and is not accepting visitors.”

The servant in question is a human man named Callaghan—you remember him from prior visitations. You frown at this impasse, but press on.

“He will want to ssee me,” you insist. “He an I have much to dissscusss!”

Callaghan raises his bushy eyebrows in a high arch against his high forehead, accentuating his baldness.

“I would imagine so,” he says, dourly. “But the Lord hardly needs… ‘Help’ in drawing conclusions there.”

What do you do?
>Make conversation with Callaghan, attempting to learn what Yoef is up to and to gain entry
>Use magic to ensorcell Callaghan, and pass by him to your objective
>Screw this—leave, and come back in the back, using stealth to break into the estate
>Knock the man out and shove him in the bushes with a packet of shirin on him as a convenient and discredited excuse for his disappearance
>Write-in
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>>5155595
I hope I managed to address most of the relevant inquiries in the posts?
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>>5155645
>Make conversation with Callaghan, attempting to learn what Yosef is up to and to gain entry
Don't wanna risk using demonic magic around Archmage, but juust in case. As for shirin, it'd look rather suspicious for this dude, who I'm assuming is well-known here, to be found with foreign drugs just when Ismena had to barge in.

>>5155647
Okay, so there are all kinds of human Reptilians, gotcha. Buuut what about the amuleted ones, like Roth? Does their illusory form depend on genes or the spell?
>>
>>5155647
Also, I demand to know what actually happened to Chika. Since it's fate worse than death and she was disappeared in front of us, at least her mind must still be alive somewhere.
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>>5155645
>Make conversation with Callaghan, attempting to learn what Yosef is up to and to gain entry
>>
>>5155645
>Make conversation with Callaghan, attempting to learn what Yoef is up to and to gain entry
Oh?

>>5155647
Yea, you did. Thanks mate!
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>>5155645
>Knock the man out and shove him in the bushes with a packet of shirin on him as a convenient and discredited excuse for his disappearance
>>
>>5155645
>>Make conversation with Callaghan, attempting to learn what Yoef is up to and to gain entry
>>
Rolled 18, 10, 16, 17 = 61 (4d20)

>>5155686
>>5155724
>>5155753
>>5156125
>>5156176

“It’ss not often that Lord Yossef hass vissitorss these days, I thought?” you say conversationally.

Callaghan frowns a little, neither nodding nor shaking his head, nor replying by any other means.

“He’ss not in any trouble, iss he?” you ask, feigning concern.

“I should say not,” Callaghan huffs.

“Iss he writing again?” you ask with only half-feigned enthusiasm. The half-accurate theorizing, sometimes verging on mad speculation, genuinely made ‘The Protocols of the Learned Elders of the Coming Race’ an entertaining read—sort of like bad smut, you’d imagine. There is a reason the lurid Gray press saw fit to publish it. You especially liked his theories about an inner world with its own sun. If only!

“Shush yourself!” Callaghan admonishes, a bit unkindly but with an urgency and paranoia you understand. He doesn’t want word getting out of the old lord’s ‘madness’.

“Ah, yesss, we don’t want ‘them’ overhearing,” you say, stifling a smirk.

Callaghan just sighs, but your cheerful demeanour—that of an earnest young acolyte of Yosef’s ‘RV. Rilney’ writings—is obviously disarming to him.

‘Or maybe he just thinks you’re cute?’ Irinnile suggests.

“If you must know,” Callaghan says, “Lord Yosef is actually entertaining a quite auspicious guest, though the subject of their conversation…”

Callaghan scrunches his nose, then remembers himself and blushes at the implicit admission that he ahs been listening in.

“Isss the Archmage lisstening to hiss theoriess?” you ask, excited outwardly and experiencing palpable dread inside.

Callaghan blinks twice, staring at you with shock. “How did you…?”

“I’ve been… Sseeing a Tower sstaffer,” you say, pretending at embarrassment. You’re not embarrassed, of course, but you are amused at the technical truth of it. “There were rumoursss. I came partly to ssee if they were true!”

“Yes, well…” Callaghan trails off, then sighs, defeated. “I don’t know what the Archmage is thinking, or his purpose here. I fear that… Well, whatever the Lord’s other theories, and their merits… Those glasses he obtained were quite expensive. Lady Miriam was furious at the expense!”+

Ah, yes: Lord Yosef’s Glasses of True-Seeing, capable of piercing any illusion and revealing hidden things… Or so you have been told. You never were able to snatch them up for yourself and your masters’ use.

“You ssusspect that the Archmage merely wantss the glasssess?” you ask.

“Why else would he entertain such…” Callaghan stops himself again, unwilling to speak ill of Lord Yosef. “Well, I shouldn’t presume anything of anyone so auspicious. I just… Worry.”

You worry, too, for different reasons.
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>>5156410
>18

“Misster Callaghan,” you say, “perhapss it ISS besst that I be in attendancce?”

He looks at you strangely.

“It’ss only… If the Archmage issn’t taking Lord Yossef sserioussly, well… It’sss besst that the glasssess remain in our good Lord’ss possession, yesss?”

You see the man’s mind working, as the servant of Lord Yosef mulls this over. Perhaps, you can see him speculate, you can stop the Archmage from swindling the sadly-delirious old Yosef out of a small fortune. Perhaps, even if you create some embarrassment, you can do the household and its master a good turn in the process?

“Very well,” he says in hushed tone, “but you snuck past me, if anyone asks.”

You wink, and stride past him with due speed. The other servants , recognizing you or assuming by your purposeful stride and your general presence that you MUST have been welcomed into the manor legitimately, provide no further obstacle as you enter the great manor, ascend the spiraling staircase, and enter the familiar office with its great stained-glass tribute to the defeat of the Dragonborn noble ancestor.

And there, as you open the doors and interrupt the two old men, sit a startled Lord Yosef and the Tower Archmage.

‘Gonna’ be hard to plant a big fuckin’ smooch on Yosef and deliver him some ectoplasm with the other golden oldie watchin’,’ Irinnile notes.

Besides which, you have… Misgivings about tongue-kissing the man you now know to be your grandfather. Reptilians have little in the way of sexual taboo, being above such petty concerns and even above sexuality outside of estrus, but lineal incest… Well, it’s rarely good for the quality of a gene-pool, and there is a certain ‘gross’ factor that is difficult to ignore. Perhaps you could, given an opportunity, deliver the ectoplasm another way?

Perhaps, as Irinnile says, it’s a moot point.

What do you do?
>Discredit Yosef by exploding forth with incredibly inane theories about the Tower Gala attack and the Reptilian Conspiracy
>Join in the conversation primarily as a listener, for now—you will never have a better opportunity to learn what the enemy leadership is up to
>Attempt to change the topic to something less precarious to your plans—perhaps the incompetence of the Paladins, or Southern Demonists?
>Use glamour to disarm the men, and ectoplasm them BOTH! Why not, if you can manage it? What a coup!
>Screw it—you have both these dangerous-yet-decrepit humans alone in a room with you! Shut the door and kill them both
>Write-in
>>
>>5156425
>Join in the conversation primarily as a listener, for now—you will never have a better opportunity to learn what the enemy leadership is up to
>Attempt to change the topic to something less precarious to your plans—perhaps the incompetence of the Paladins, or Southern Demonists?

Actually, slowly and subtly raising the more inane and crazy theories throughout the conversation would probably be better than spazzing out with it in the beginning, and would probably allow us to derail and direct the conversation towards the less precarious topics.
>>
>>5156425
>Use glamour to disarm the men, and ectoplasm them BOTH! Why not, if you can manage it? What a coup!
what're the chances the archmage is combat ready
>>
>>5156425
>>Attempt to change the topic to something less precarious to your plans—perhaps the incompetence of the Paladins, or Southern Demonists?
>>
>>5156425
>Use glamour to disarm the men, and ectoplasm them BOTH! Why not, if you can manage it? What a coup!
>>
Anons, I don't want to Bad End us by running in half cocked and trying to take on Pavlov's and Henzler's boss without any support, strategy, or stealth.
>>
>>5156425
I do feel a bit conflicted here. Can we attempt a glamor, and if that fails play it off to try something like >>5156446, or would that attempt ruin our chances at playing this off and remaining under the radar?
>>
Ectoplasm or go home.
This is not a vote.
>>
>>5156805
[If your glamour fails, the Archmage will know that you tried to influence him. However: big risk, big reward.

Awaiting a tie-breaker!]
>>
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>>5156888
How about we roll?
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>>5156907
I will if nobody breaks the tie by the time I come back from work. No 1post id tiebreakers. Don't do it!
>>
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>>5156913
So you're saying this ID is now valid.
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>>5156919
>>
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>>5156930
>>
>>5156425
>>Join in the conversation primarily as a listener, for now—you will never have a better opportunity to learn what the enemy leadership is up to
>>Attempt to change the topic to something less precarious to your plans—perhaps the incompetence of the Paladins, or Southern Demonists?
>>
>>5156888
Honestly, I feel a bit inclined towards caution rather than risking outing ourselves in front of a high level mage, but if you feel like it's the right call to risk it for the biscuit, then I'm willing to give it a go.

Sorry for being a useless fence-sitter, maybe under a different face I would vote bolder.
>>
>>5157053
Oh, well I guess you don't need me to be the tiebreaker after all. It's a load off my mind.

>>5157061
I guess this tepid vote is a bit void now, considering I still don't a clear head on this subject. Again, sorry for letting my indecisiveness hold up the thread.
>>
>>5157061
>>5157065
Anon, don't put yourself down. I find the risky move alluring as well, and if it wasn't for the fear of fucking up everything on a high DC in the final stretch, I probably would've voted to go balls to the wall as well. If nothing else, we can try to offer them some of the green shirin and work our magic then.
>>
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>>5157107
>>5157061
>>5157065
It's chill. That high ranking mage is fully capable of bad ending the quest and starting a campaign against Reptilian race, all things considered.
I'm just having a certified gamer moment wanting to instakill the engame boss. Just imagine how easy it would be to take over the entire Tower by coughing Dumbledore in the face. We can fucking ectoplasm him and pretend we got corvid.
First the Prince during Gala, today Archmage, tomorrow the Paladin King and his stupid shitass birdfuck cretin of a griffon.
>>
Rolled 16, 11, 13, 16 = 56 (4d20)

>>5156446
>>5156484
>>5156660
>>5156691
>>5157053
>Join in the conversation primarily as a listener, for now—you will never have a better opportunity to learn what the enemy leadership is up to
>Attempt to change the topic to something less precarious to your plans—perhaps the incompetence of the Paladins, or Southern Demonists?

“Miss Rosgard?” Lord Yosef says, responding to your unexpected appearance first. His tone belies incredulity and confusion at your sudden entrance.

The Archmage looks to him, and Lord Yosef shrugs as if to say ‘I don’t know why she’s here, either,’ though aloud he says: “She’s… A friend. A smart young girl, who has seen some of the same signs which I have.”

“Ah,” the Archmage replies, stroking his beard and looking at you with renewed interest.

“Don’t mind me,” you say, “I jusst… Had ssome newss to sspeak with Lord Yossef about. When you’re done. I could wait outsside if you’d rather…?”

You let the pregnant pause hang in the air, playing up your embarrassment and preying upon the chivalry of foolish human males. Reptilian males, like most of Hawksong’s human population, tend to regard females of any given caste as lesser than their male equivalents, but they use this unashamedly to their social advantage. Among males of a certain status in this culture, you notice, human men behave with a curious deference to women—provided the women, in turn, defer to them. You exploit this excellently, and Lord Yosef sighs and relents.

“She already knows enough about these dark matters, Alphonse. There’s no point in throwing her out.”

“I cede to you, Isaac,” the Archmage—apparently a man Yosef is on first-name basis with—agrees. To you, he says: “You must have made quite the impression, to get this old grump’s respect. A pleasure to meet you, Miss… Rosgard, was it? I am Archmage Sylvestre.”
>>
>>5157626
You take a seat, remaining silent at first. The two humans remain awkward for a time, recollecting themselves.

“You were telling me of why you do not wish to aid materially in battling back a threat to our city,” Archmage Alponse Sylvestre provides old Yosef, helpfully.

Lord Yosef sighs, rubbing his creased forehead. “You phrase it so accusatorily, Alphonse.”

“You frame these glasses as the sole salvation of Hawksong—nay, the SPECIES—and then you say I cannot have them,” the Archmage says. “How else should I interpret this? What phrasing would you prefer, Isaac?”

“You know these are a relic,” Yosef says. “Practically one-of-a-kind, insofar as I should be able to obtain and purchase their like again.”

“Oh, the old tight-purse pleads POVERTY now!” the Archmage mocks, winking at you—playing to Yosef’s pride as a wealthy heir to a great fortune, and a family famed for financial aptitude.

“You know my holdings aren’t what they once were,” Yosef admits, avoiding your eyes and speaking with some bitterness. “But… It is the finding. I genuinely suspect that THEY have destroyed or hidden away most other pairs of these glasses, probably out of fear of them. I cannot risk their loss!”

“Do you think I cannot safeguard a magical artefact?” the Archmage asks.

“I don’t know,” Yosef asks pointedly, “CAN you, Alphonse? Tell me, what incident provoked your sudden interest in my theories about the below-race of Reptilian overlords, ARCHMAGE OF THE TOWER?”

The Archmage’s eyes shine with outrage, and he starts to stand. “Now, see here, you stubborn old—”

“It’s really the Paladinss’ fault, issn’t it?” you interject innocently.

Both sets of angry, cataract-afflicted old eyes turn to you.

>16

“Say what?” Lord Yosef asks.

“The Paladinss,” you repeat. “They let a bunch of ssouthern demonisstss sslip in, right under their nosesss!”

Lord Yosef sighs and palms his face. “Not you, too, Rosgard. That story about demon-worshipers from the Southlands is just—”

“A ssmokesscreen!” you agree. “But one that the Paladinss have failed to ssee through! I honestly don’t think there were any demonss to begin with.”

“…Beg pardon?” Archmage Sylvestre asks, dumbfounded by this assertion.

“Think about it,” you say, “even if the Tower would jusst… SSTORE dangerouss demonss like that, and I know you wouldn’t Ssir Archmage… Why would southern demonisstss jusst RELEASSSE them into the ccity? Wouldn’t they keep them for their own purposssess? Mobilize them againsst uss?”
>>
>>5157671
The Archmage hesitates to answer; he knew about Pavlov’s facilities, after all. However, convincing HIM wasn’t your objective, and you can already see your diversion affecting Lord Yosef. He has a penchant for overthinking these things, you know, and for latching onto any elaboration or fabrication which deepens the dark subterfuge of the Reptilian Conspiracy in his mind.

“What do you imply, Miss Rosgard?”

“That the Paladinss have been sset on a wild goose chasse,” you say, “wasting their time and ressourccesss—and that of the Inquissisition, or sso I hear—while the Reptilianss have already absconded with their real prizesss! The Paladinss are jusst sso focussed on their glory-hogging CHASESS about town that they have let the real trail go cold."

The Archmage’s eyes widen at this, and Lord Yosef snatches upon it. The former knows of the loss of the Dragonborn and the dwarven master-stone, you know. For the latter, it is an easier thing for him to believe that the authorities have been bamboozled by his hated foes than that a band of Reptilians could (for example), have a haphazard extraction plan and then lose track of their demonic assets.

Irinnile laughs, exclaiming ‘Imagine if they knew how seat-of-our-godsdamned-pants our plans really are, huh, Lispy?’

You suppress an eye-twitch.

‘Uh, no offence,’ the demon adds.

“They’ll return, though, surely?” The Archmage press on. “Even if we... Reconsider our deployment of resources. Demons, or lizard-men, or whatever else… Isaac, we NEED those glasses to identify the root cause of this trouble.”

“Then let me help!” Lord Yosef insists. “Let ME bring them to bear!”

“You’re a frail old money-counter,” the Archmage scoffs.

“Frail, am I?!” Yosef demands, this time taking his turn to stand in anger.

“Oh sit down,” the Archmage sighs. “I only mean that we’re BOTH old. I command magic, Isaac, but you don’t see me scrambling in the streets after dark. That’s why an INQUSIITOR should have those glasses, or a Tower Guardian. Someone who can make the best use of them.”

“Or lose them in the next attack, if THEY learn that you have them,” Yosef points out.

What do you do?
>Let the old men bicker—they’re doing your work for you, with their inability to agree
>Suggest that Yosef SHOULD let the Tower use the glasses—you can better take them off the board in-transit, and without tipping anyone off, if they are in the field
>Agree that the glasses should stay with Yosef—you would rather they stay here, where you can dispose of them easily, than with the mages
>Offer to help Lord Yosef stay safe while he joins the mages in their endeavours—you can be an assistant, spoiling his efforts and maybe even offing him inconspicuously that way
>Write-in
>>
>>5157672
>Let the old men bicker—they’re doing your work for you, with their inability to agree

If they don't come to an agreement this meeting, the Archmage will have to come back to negotiate for the glasses again, and we'll be more prepared to ectoplasm him either en route or at the manor itself.
>>
>>5157672
>Agree that the glasses should stay with Yosef—you would rather they stay here, where you can dispose of them easily, than with the mages

>>5157693
what preparations are you thinking of?
>>
>>5157753
For a start, changing our face. We can probably summon some demons to help us with the ambush if the glamor goes poorly. Maybe we can make it seem like the Southern Demonists wanted to assassinate him if the ambush doesn't pan out. I just want some precautions taken and a security net available just in case we need it.

Of course, we could always just offer the Archmage to sample our shirin and take advantage of him when he starts tripping on the green shit. I would laugh my ass off if that worked out.
>>
>>5155693
Oh, by the by, you have no idea what happened. Irinnile has a guess, which I will touch on in a post soon, if the Infiltrator gets some downtime and/or sleep.
>>
>>5157672
I ssure hope Issmena's acssent didn't get too notisseable.
>Let the old men bicker—they’re doing your work for you, with their inability to agree
Can we please ectoplasm Isaac when this Sylvester Alphonse leaves?

>>5157914
Regarding simplifying things, why not add ectoplasm to tea? Drugs are a much riskier venue that could potentially get us kicked out of here if it's something Yosef/Archmage disapprove of.

>>5157969
I suddenly have a sudden urge to go to sleep.
>>
>>5157672
>>Let the old men bicker—they’re doing your work for you, with their inability to agree
>>
>>5157672
>Agree that the glasses should stay with Yosef—you would rather they stay here, where you can dispose of them easily, than with the mages
>>
>>5157693
>>5157753
>>5158143
>>5158168
>>5158400

You see no need to intervene in a discussion which, thanks to your egging on, seems to be going very much in your direction. In one fell swoop, you’ve encouraged Yosef to think of the Tower AND paladins as too incompetent to entrust with his Glasses of Truesight, and Archmage Sylvestre to rethink his entire strategy and the immediate necessity of the glasses. The Tower’s headmaster still WANTS the glasses, of course—even for dealing with demons, they’d be invaluable—but if the demons and ‘lizard-men’ are already long-gone, or those still present are merely a distraction… Well, how important are they to his immediate plans?

The arguing goes on for quite some time, circular in its arguments in a way that is almost hypnotic. You feel your own head spinning with growing weariness, verging on exhaustion, and at several points you have to force your nictitating membranes to remain open, and to stop your head from nodding.

“Bah!” the Archmage says, standing up and drawing his gold-embroidered robe around himself. “It isn’t worth dealing with you for those glasses.”

“Oh, tell me what you REALLY think why don’t you, Alphonse?”

“Ever since Rebecca passed, you’ve just been INSUFEFRABLE,” the Archmage spits back.

You can see the regret and the hurt take shape on each man’s face in real time.

“I didn’t… I should not have said that,” the Archmage says.

“No,” Yosef agrees coldly, not looking at him or at you, his fire diminished. “You should not have.”

Archmage Syvelstre sighs, shaking his head. “If… If we should find anything, can I at least call upon you? You can sue the glasses yourself, but… Just to confirm the nature of things?”

Lord Yosef takes the more mundane glasses from his face, setting them down on the desk, and looks up. The fire is back, to your mild discouragement.

“To avenge my son and to prove you a fool in one fell swoop, Alphonse? Why, of course. And then, I expect a TWOFOLD apology.”

The old mage scoffs, but nods. “I shall hope I have no occasion for it. I agree, though.”

Not the BEST ending you could have hoped for… But at least neither side has made progress in uncovering the truth of your raid, and the glasses are still where you can easily find and access them, and you’ve further tangled their understanding.
>>
>>5158458
Lord Yosef sees you both to the door, Callaghan accompanying him; the servant had been hovering outside the room, most probably listening in again, and he now hovers by his amster to offer him support should he stumble.

“Bah!” Lord Yosef says, “I’m no invalid, Callaghan.”

“Of course, my lord,” Callaghan readily agrees.

The lord of the manor sees off the Archmage, who doffs his pointed hat respectfully despite their fierce argument. Lord Yosef nods in turn, albeit only barely.

“I suppose you’ll be leaving, too, Miss Rosgard,” he says. It’s more of a statement than a request.

“I…” You blink a couple times, feeling a little wobbly. Your stomach is woozy, your head spinning. It is late morning by now, and you now realize you have been exerting yourself physically and mentally for almost 36 hours without much rest. Sitting in the old lord’s chair and listening to he and the mage bicker must have sapped the momentum which was keeping you moving.

“Are you quite alright?” Callaghan asks, before he can stop himself—a servant’s natural inclination to serve gets in the way of his obvious personal desire for you to depart this place.

“Rosgard?” Lord Yosef asks. “Are you ill? Do you need to lie down?”

“My lord,” Callaghan hisses, “it’s… Not proper!”

“She can stay in Miriam’s old room,” Yosef says. “And is it more ‘proper’, do you figure, to send her out to fall flat on her face before our gate?”

“…As you say, my lord.”

What do you do?
>Take Lord Yosef’s offer—you could use the rest, and maybe a free meal
>You do not wish to fall asleep yet, not here—better to retire to The Pretty Kitty
>You have no time to waste, and another matter to attend to—go find the wraith in its crypt, and THEN catch some Z’s if you can
>Write-in
>>
>>5158460
>Take Lord Yosef’s offer—stay for a bit and find an opportunity to plant ectoplasm into his drink
Kill two griffins with one stone.

Does Ismena understand the relationship between Yosefs and the Archmage, RQM? It's not clear whether they're family or friends.
>>
>>5158460
>Take Lord Yosef’s offer—you could use the rest, and maybe a free meal
>>
>>5158607
[The Infiltrator knows what you know about them.]
>>
>>5158635
*sigh*
>>5157914
anon, we gotta do something about archmage
>>
>>5158460
>>You do not wish to fall asleep yet, not here—better to retire to The Pretty Kitty
>>
>>5158460
>Take Lord Yosef’s offer—you could use the rest, and maybe a free meal

Then we find the wraith in its crypt before we begin work at TPK. Before we get some Zs, we'll need Felman to grab Henzler's shit for the Dragonborn.

>>5158653
They seem like old friends, right? He'll come back around just to talk, and maybe we can convince him to roofie himself with the green shirin.
>>
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>>5159221
>>5158849
>>5158626
>>5158607
“I think I may jusst take you up on that,” you say, a bit sheepishly.

It isn’t just a false deference—you’re genuinely a bit embarrassed to be relying on an adversary. It improves you mood a little to mentally frame it as further exploitation and intelligence-gathering, at least.

‘Yeah!’ Irinnile chimes in. ‘Maybe we can, I dunno’, slip him some shirin, or hock an ecto-loogie in his drink?’

‘The direct delivering of the ectoplasm is vital,’ you remind the succubus. ‘It is part and parcel to the ritual, until we are strong enough that a fragment of you ay survive without a host, or a more involved ritual.’

‘Yeah, alright, alright,’ she says. ‘I guess it bein’ all inky-blank is gonna’ be a bit of a giveaway anyhow, huh? Still, maybe the shirin…’

Still, it isn’t all wasted opportunity. As Callaghan and some other, more feminine staff under his preview ready your accommodations, you and your human pre-progenitor strike up conversation. It is most awkward and idle chit-chat, with Yosef inquiring after your health, and you explaining away your exhaustion as having been poring over readings and theories all through the night, working out the ‘truth’ behind the Gala Attack.

“Ha, yes,” he says with a wry half-smile. “I’ve had such nights. The truth is damned evasive thing. I never would have thought of the entire attack as a diversion—I daresay the Archmage never would have either. You may just have that man in your debt, if your ideas are proven right by his new investigation.”

“Who iss he to you, anyway?” you ask.

It’s been a matter of some curiosity. Does the Archmage himself have Yosef blood in him? The thought that you might have to slay the Archmage himself to complete your divine mission is a daunting prospect, especially when you are already overwhelmed and staving off exhaustion.

“Just a friend,” Lord Yosef says. “an old friend, actually. We studied together, as younger men.”

You narrow your eyes. You’d never suspected Lord Yosef might be a mage. It makes you second-guess your strategies. When you ask, though, he just laughs.

“Oh, no! No no no. Young Lord Alfonse Sylvestre was not ALWAYS a mage! We shared etiquette and equestrian classes for young men of high birth. And something of a crush on MY Rebecca, I would wager.”

Yosef looks both wistful and smug, reflecting on his late wife—your human grandmother, who you have been said to resemble.

“Ssoundss as if you won that exxxchange,” you tease.

“Sylvestre thinks it was because he joined the Tower,” Yosef says, with a wicked little twinkle in his eyes, “but what he doesn’t know is that we’d been sneaking off to study, and to read poetry, for weeks by the time he’d discovered his aptitude for the mystic arts.”

The shared remembrance makes your heart hurt a little, reminding you of how you met Edwin.
>>
>>5159266
“You musst misss her,” you say, without thinking.

Your grandfather’s face darkens a little, the gleam leaving his eyes, and he nods.

“But I’m rambling,” he says. “You need your rest, so… Well, take it. However long you need. I’ll have the servants put on a soup for you, too-don’t think I didn’t hear your stomach rumbling! A smart girl like you can’t neglect your health, or only the fools who CAN’T see the truth will be left to stand against the Coming Race when they make their move!”

The room laid out for you is a cozy one, despite obvious dustiness about some of the fixtures. You can tell be long-abandoned furnishings that Miriam Vaz nee Yosef was a girl of fantastical leanings and many brief passions: you see medallions and trophies commemorating aptitude for archery, for dance, for poise, for painting. Few indicate a first-place finish, save archery, but many suggest a skill worthy of placing in the top three. Altogether, her ornate furniture, her plush-to-the-point-of-decadence bedding, and the array of extracurriculars indicates a daughter doted upon, once upon a time. Was it the angst and obsession which followed her brother’s death which so devastated the relationship?

Well, no matter. You can explore this avenue later, if you so choose. The bed really is comfortable… And you really need the rest. You shut nictitating membranes, then eyelids as well—you don’t wish to be caught out as a demihuman in your sleep by a human wise to the signs of Reptilian blood.

When sleep comes, though… It is no easy one. Again, you suffer the curse of human blood and the dreams such taint brings. This time, though, you dream of matters Reptilian… or, well, as Reptilian as you.
>>
>>5159267
In your dreams, you find yourself in darkness—a hot darkness, humid and muggy, clinging and insistent. It feels as if you are burning up from a fever, trapped in a boiling pot. You struggle forward against the darkness, calling out for Irinnile to awaken—to lend you her sight, so you might guide yourself.

‘I’ll do ya’ one better,’ you hear her say.

A hand clasps yours, and gradually the world fades into focus as she guides you forwards. It would be sweet, almost comforting, if she wasn’t guiding you into a nightmare.

Before you rise terrible spires topped with cages of stone; inside these, shapes grip the bars, reaching through or attempting to squeeze betwixt them. You can hear their cries from what must be hundreds of feet below, distant wails. Between the spires winds a river, dark and viscous—black from some angles, red from others, almost semi-solid. You approach, but Irinnile pulls you back before you can draw too near. Lucky she does: a hand, followed by a hundred more, reaches out of the ooze to grasp for the shore where your foot just was. Overhead, you hear cackling and conversation. You look up, and see three bat-winged shapes flit overhead, trailing long, fork-tipped tails and clutching a dangling shape between them. It does not struggle—it is resigned.

“Where are we?” you ask.

“You know,” Irinnile replies. “My, uh, hometown. Well, the Plains Forsaken, anyway. It’s where loose souls roam.”

“Loose souls?” you ask. Realization hits, and then fear follows. “The Hells? Am I… I can’t be dead!”

“No, no, shhh, calm down Lispy,” Irinnile soothes you, petting your hair and rubbing your back. You realize belatedly that you are naked. “You’re good, we’re good. You’re just asleep.”

“This is a dream?” you ask.

“I, uh, didn’t say THAT,” Irinnile says with a nervous laugh. “you’re wandering a little. I caught you before you got too far.”

“Why am I here?” you demand. “What caused my ‘wandering’?”

“I, uh, think it’s that niggling little thought you’ve been thinkin’, ‘bout our girl Chika.”

You glare at her, awaiting clarity. Irinnile grins nervously and shrugs.

“It was kinda’ my theory, ya’ know, that this might have been what happened when Pavlov kapowed her outta’ time ‘n space. Sent her pakcing bodily into a spec of blood, and her soul to… Well, where’s a demonologist banish the things he fights, right?”

You stare at her. “Chika is… here?”

Irinnile just shrugs again, and says “Maybe? Possibly? I dunno’. But you know… You really shouldn’t be!”

“On that, we agree,” speaks a voice beyond sound—a voice which quakes your very being, which resonates with the stone below your feet. The ground trembles, and the river winds away like a sidewinding serpent, fleeing the sound.
>>
>>5159293

You turn to face what approaches, and have to steady yourself when you see the source. Before you is an unassuming figure, cloaked in black. It is no taller than you, no great figure like the towering winged serpent which granted you your Divine Favour and your mission to end the Yosef bloodline. And yet…

“A Dark God?” you gasp, clinging to Irinnile for stability. For her part, the succubus looks terrified, as if she too would like to cower or run… But for your sake, she does not.

“Once, maybe,” the figure replies.

It pulls back a hood, revealing… Bone. A skull, but not a human skull—not wholly. It is warped, deformed—horned and fanged on one side, like that of a dragon, but almost mockingly mundane in its humanity on the other side.

“Now,” the figure says, “I am without faction in wars of providence, and I am recognized as such. When the others from before the dawning of the light retreated beyond the stars or buried themselves deep into the world to hide away and bide their time, I remained. In time, even the Gods of Light saw the need for me. Life cannot exist…”

“…Without Death,” you finish, recognizing the figure before you.

“Yes,” it speaks, and you fall to your knees, unable to stand tall in the face of its presence.

“The succubus is right,” it says, “you do not belong here—.”

“Y-yeah,” Irinnile stammers. “Um, so just like… Let us get out of your, uh, hair or whatever, huh, Big D?”

“—yet,” Death finishes.

Irinnile shuts her mouth, afraid to say anything more for fear of provoking this grim spectre.

“Still, you come bearing a token,” Death speaks eventually, with what might be curiosity. “Do you come to bargain.”

You’re about to ask what he means when you remember: the soul coin! The silver token which, so the Akashic Record told you, can be used to buy the passage of one soul to or from the afterlife—any part of it!

As if calling to you, you hear a familiar voice—barely within the range of hearing, faint, unintelligible, but in great pain and despair.

“Chika,” you say quietly, remembering the last moments of your fellow Degenerate, your comrade-in-arms. An Infiltrator, servant of the Dark Gods and a fellow traveler, trapped forever in this place and beyond the glorious dark paradise to which dutiful Reptilians aspire—a slave entrapped in a place of torment, fed upon by devils rather than in her rightful place. Her fate could so easily have been yours…

“But it wasn’t,” Irinnile urges, “so let’s fuckin’ GO, babe!”

What do you do?
>Leave this place, and wake up
>Ask Death something [what]
>Offer up the soul coin, for Chika’s passage to the divine realm of the Dark Gods, or back to the living world [specify which]
>Use the one-time Divine Favour to demand soemthing from Death [specify if you ahve something in mind]
>Write-in
>>
>>5159294
>Ask Death something [Soul Coin, I would like to make one more]

Just, one. In all honesty, this is just to talk to Death a bit longer before we decide what we're doing with the Coin. How do you lads feel about this situation?

I would ask for Pavlov back if we didn't already eat the bastard's soul. Fucker could've been very useful, especially right now.
>>
>>5159294
>Ask if there are more Gods than just the Dark Gods
>Ask why does it think you will end up here
>"Soul Coin, I would like to make one more"
Hell yeah, let's see if we can turn human souls into a coin factory.
>Offer up the soul coin, for Chika’s passage back to the living world
Make sure she spawns outside the Yosef's home, if we do.

>>5159379
>plays ismena like she was an empathetic human
>wants pavlov instead of chika because of his clear demon-boner
No way, we take our Chika back and ask her about whatever the fuck is going on here.
>>
>>5159498
>Hell yeah, let's see if we can turn human souls into a coin factory.

I don't think it works like that at all, but I would settle for just one other coin, mostly for a satisfying narrative point.

>says he doesn't want to play as an empathetic human
>votes to waste an important artifact to save the life of a glorified mook

I'd like for you to fully reconsider what you're giving up by saving Chika's soul.
>>
>>5159498
>>5159511
Well, before I pass out I'd like to explore three options we have here.

One is to save Chika's soul from the demon buffet, which is a worth act taken in fellowship of Reptilian Infiltrators.

The second is to save the coin for ourselves, assuming we could cash it in if we died. We should probably ask Death about that possibility, as I don't know if that would work if we're already dead.

The final one is more narratively focused than mechanically, and is more empathetically human than you'd probably like. It would be the Soul Coin for Hirschel's soul, and it's more an quest ender than anything, involving feels and the like. It's also more of a fantasy on my part, not because I don't think Ismena would be incapable of achieving it, but because I recognize that this isn't really the player base for that type of story. It's a shame too, that would've been a lovely ending. This was what motivated me to ask about how to make an additional coin, however unlikely the odds of getting it would be.

I do still think getting Chika back would be a nice and worthy goal, I'd just be remiss if I didn't share my thoughts on the subject before I pass out and another update happens while I slumber.
>>
>>5159554
A fourth low key kino option would be getting Estella's soul back, but again I doubt anons would be up for it, considering the circumstances of her death. A strange thought just as I'm on the verge of passing out, I'd thought I'd also share it before I slumber.
>>
>>5159511
I want you to fully reconsider what you're giving up by saving that subhuman's wreched soul to feed your fucking demon fetish for no real reason. I'll gladly save a half-reptilian from boiling in hell over a vile dungeon neet who SENT HER HERE.

>>5159294
There is one thing I'd (>>5159498) like to change, though.
Still want Chica, but don't cash the coin in just yet, it will benefit us all to ask questions and then put coin in a separate vote instead rushing it all together now.

>>5159561
>he wants a human whore we murdered to be brought back, but not our fellow agent who got sent to this hell fighting for the cause alongside us
You weren't joking about strange thought on the verge of passing out, holy fucking shit.
>>
>>5159379
>>5159498
>>5159609
>Ask if there are more Gods than just the Dark Gods

Death’s head, which had turned from you at the sound of Chika’s distant cry, now swivels back to you. The rest of the being’s body is stock still, creating an unsettling effect.

“Of course,” the voice from everywhere and nowhere says. “Do my ancient siblings pretend that there are not? We were driven back by the coming of the light---of sun, and stars, and moon, and the gods thereof, and their children.”

So mammalian theology is NOT all wrong…

“And these Gods of Light… Moroth and Marese, and their children, are among them?”

“Moroth… Moroth…” Death raises a strangely non-skeletal hand to drum upon its chin. “Yes, A younger god, one of steel and justice. And Marese, a wife to him, yes? Mercy, compassion, wisdom. Yes, they came later, and they are still young yet even by the reckoning of those my Dark siblings battles, but they are of the Light.”

>Ask why does it think you will end up here

Irinnile tenses up as you ask the next question, holding her breath. This puzzles you… But only for a moment.

“Where does a soul consumed or bound to a demon go, but to the realm of demons?” Death asks rhetorically, as if it should be obvious.

You turn to Irinnile, who slowly turns her head to meet you as well, expression panicked, before nervously looking away.

“Y-yeah, babe, ‘bout that…”

Your eyes widen as you feel the realization and sense of betrayal set in. irinnile’s nervous laughter only further deepens your growing fury and despair.

“Hey, hey, calm down!” irinnile says, releasing your hand and backing away, holding both her own hands up before you. “It’s not like I was planning to drag you ta’ Hell or nothin’, you know? I hate it down here! I figure we just dodge dyin’ and stay in your world, you ‘n me against the world… Right? That’s not so bad?”

“But if I did die,” you say slowly, “what would be my fate?”

Irinnile opens her mouth, but says nothing.

“This place?!” you demand.

“I… Would come lookin’ for ya’,” Irinnile says, softly, quietly, unable to meet your gaze.

You take a deep breath, steady yourself to prevent from quaking, and you turn back to Death.
>>
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>>5159710
>"Soul Coin, I would like to make one more"

“I am neither the coins’ maker, nor their taker,” Death says. “I have no need for the seven souls which you and your demon have gathered.”

“Then how can I make more?” you ask.

“There are ways known to those in the world of the mortals,” Death says, “though it is a rare skill there. The making of such tokens is better known to those beyond this plateau, who dwell in deeper and hotter places.”

“Hotstuff,” irinnile interrupts urgently, wincing as Death now looks at her but still braving his wrath, “you CAN’T go deeper. IF you drop down inta’ the lower Hells… I mean, even brushin’ up against this place, just on th’ outskirts… it’s puttin’ you at risk. You’re alive, just sleepin’, but if any demon snatched you up…”

“I’d end up here ahead of schedule?” you ask bitterly.

Irinnile looks down at the ground, scratching at the ground with one of her hoof-like feet.

“We can still figure it out,” she says. “But… Chika’s gone, and that soul coin… I mean, that’s one way you can get outta’ this place, if you don’t use it on some rando.”

“She was—IS—a Reptilian Infiltrator,” you assert, “not ‘some rando’.”

“’S only one Infiltrator I care about,” Irinnile says solemnly. “Come on, babe, let’s get outta’ this shithole.”

You hesitate, considering your options. Perhaps you could assert the Divine Favour to extract Death’s aid, or to extract yourself from the deeper layers of this Hellish realm, if you delved deeper? Or perhaps the ‘seven souls’ you and Irinnile have consumed, which are now within you, could be traded or transformed into coins down below, and one could be used to buy your freedom from this place just as one can be used to purchase Chika’s liberation?

But then, maybe Irinnile is right, too. Are you being too reckless? Too human in your sentimentality, even? And what does it mean for your future, and the future of your mission, to take such risks and expend such precious resources here, when the Yosefs yet live, the Incubus yet has your allies in its clutches, and your obligations to Dark Gods and demons alike go unfulfilled?

What do you do?
>Leave this place, and wake
>Ask Death something else [what?]
>Ask Irinnile something else [what?]
>Use the Divine Favour [to what end?]
>Demand that Irinnile guide you deeper into this realm, to where you can find Chika
>Get directions from Death to the demon who may mint coins from mortal souls, and seek it out
>Write-in
>>
>>5159712
This Death is pretty chill despite literally everything.
>Demand that Irinnile guide you deeper into this realm, to where you can find Chika
I wanna at least see her.
>Get directions from Death to the demon who may mint coins from mortal souls, and seek it out
We could
>Use Divine Favour to get a protection in hell
It's not like we're gonna use it for anything else anyway. It's a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to get overpowered hellish boons and see around this place. Not to mention that every minute spent in the presence of Dark Goddeath is an unnerving blessing.
Also, the more connections we make around here, the less shit it will be if we die possessed by the succubus...


I did consider the cause for our hellish future being the demonic possession, but my first guess was the fact that we literally worship creatures linked to this place. Glad it's just the slut. It's actually pretty cool and I appreciate the drama of it all, but it also worries me because I know foxanon will refuse to drop the demon even after we finish the main story. Well, at least now he has an epic intrigue with a demonic and romantic theme, yay. I have no idea if intrigue is the right word.
>>
>>5159712
>Ask if you can pay in advance to have your soul moved from here to the divine realm of the dark gods if/when you do die

eternal torment too scaree
>>
>>5159712
>Ask Death something else [what?]
>Ask Irinnile something else [what?]
How bad would it be, to travel deeper into Hell? What would we face?

Not gonna lie, being here scares me, because we're essentially walking into Bad End territory, but I do think it would be worth it, and I think doing our own Dante's Inferno is low key kino as well.

Another point worth mentioning is that we still have the other demon names in our arsenal that we haven't used, and I always wanted to tryout the loyal savage demon we got from the Record.

>>5159609
>I want you to fully reconsider what you're giving up by saving that subhuman's wreched soul to feed your fucking demon fetish for no real reason.
It ain't a demon fetish, it's a knowledge fetish. Dark Gods, at least get it right.
>>
>>5159895
>knowledge fetish
Then how about we stay here for a while instead of resurrecting that clueless piece of shit? Trying to figure out the true workings of RIQ's god/demon/afterlife structures has always been in the back of my head.
And seriously, let's use the Favor as hell shield, we all know that otherwise we will NEVER use it for anything. It's fucking human nature to miss out on opportunities.
>>
>>5159915
I don't mind staying awhile. I do mind using our Divine Favor to go on a trip to hell. I've always thought of it as something like a 'Get out of jail free' card in case we faced something we couldn't handle alone or kept chain critfailing, like that time we got wrecked by Felman. Losing that just to galavant through Hell? I don't know.

I will admit that I'm still tempted, as I think this unexpected turn of events really should be explored a bit, and pulling a Dante's Inferno/Orpheus would actually be quite rad to be honest, I'm just not sure about the wisdom in using our one favor when we still have unfinished business on the surface that could make our stay here a permanent one.
>>
>>5159712
>>Demand that Irinnile guide you deeper into this realm, to where you can find Chika
>>
>>5159712
I'd also like to add
>Get directions from Death to the demon who may mint coins from mortal souls
if >>5160096's vote means going further into hell. We may not decide to seek him out, but I'd like for that option to be on the table just in case we get the opportunity to do so semi-safely.
>>
>>5159732
>>5159831
>>5159895
>>5160096
>>5160159
You look to Irinnile, eyes narrowed and face set in grim determination. The expression isn’t lost on her, nor is the implication of your question:

>How bad would it be, to travel deeper into Hell? What would we face?

“Lispy…”

“Just answer the question, Irinnile.”

The succubus sighs, and shakes her head.

“I know you, of all mortals, know somethin’ about hell. You’ve read about it in your books and… Heard about it from your Snake-Pope or whatever! It’s not GOOD, Lispy. If you think you’re sweating in your skinnies now, this is one of the COOLEST parts of the demon realsm, what with the big windy expanses and bein’ so far away from the core. The closer you get to centre, the harsher it is on the buzz. Hotter, more densely populated—with, ya’ know, DEMONS that wanna’ eat you up…”

She pauses, and adds: “and not in the fun way.”

When you don’t crack a smile, she withers, and continues more usefully: “the deeper realms of Hell are hotter, but brighter, and the shit you’ll see will make ya’ see why I hate it around here. Oh, yeah, ya’ got your open-air orgy pits and your human flesh buffets, but demons get traded like coin ‘round here too. IF your soul can even survive travelin’ through some a’ these places, ou’ll be assaulted and enslaved EVEN FASTER than me, if any greater demon decides they like the look of us, and I won’t be far behind you.”

“That sounds… Perhaps difficult, but well within my abilities,” you say optimistically.

“Those are the nice neighbourhoods. In the areas here a Demon Prince rules supreme… Shit gets wild.”

“They are as their own realms in this place,” Death adds, almost helpfully. “An afterlife unto themselves, a cloying attempt to mimic the paradises and hidden wonders of a true god’s private domain. There, a sufficiently-powerful demon may pretend at supremacy, and not unconvincingly so, to one such as yourself.”

“…And at the end of all this, you get eaten and trapped forever!” Irinnile exclaims, throwing her arms up. “That’s your place here: food! I’m the not-so-hired help to be traded and used and abused and experimented on… And you, Hotstuff, you’re the entrée! You’re a snack for a quick boost of power, never to be seen or heard from again!”

>Ask if you can pay in advance to have your soul moved from here to the divine realm of the dark gods if/when you do die

Your next question is addressed to Death, who obliges you with an answer:

“You can certainly try,” he says, “but the psychopomps who guard the spaces between realms, and between life and death, they are not gods or demons. They are not bound by oath or pact. If you give them a coin now, they may aid you later, but they also may not.”

“Who guards the afterlife against trespass?” you ask.
>>
>>5160258
Three notions occur to you, then. You consider:
>Demanding that Irinnile guide you deeper into this realm, to where you can find Chika
>Gettng directions from Death to the demon who may mint coins from mortal souls, and seek it out
>Using the Divine Favour to get a protection in hell

“Chika,” you muse, “Irinnile, could you elad me to where she is kept?”

“Babe, PLEASE—”

“Could you?” you repeat.

She bites her lip, and nods. “Might need ta’ summon a hellhound for some of the tricky bits, but that should be easy down here… The ONLY easy bit about this whole dumb thing.”

“And… Most Noble and Supreme Darkness, called Death…”

“Speak your request,” he says.

“Could I trouble you for the location of one who smiths soul coins?”

“If you find the gathering-places the succubus spoke of, you will find many who claim to,” Death answers. “Those who speak truly… I know of one. Mannunaul, a Demon Prince of Greed. If you can persuade his emissaries that you can be of use, and to bring you to him… He may be willing to forge souls into coins.”

“Babe, Demon Princes are big trouble, especially for a tasty little bit a’ soul-food like you.”

“Could I use my Divine Favour, from the Dark Gods themselves, to protect me on this journey?” you ask. Your tone wavers—you aren’t entirely sure you want to commit such a boon to this, when in the waking world a great deal more peril may yet await.

“I thought I had sensed their inverse glow within you. It is why I sought you out upon your intrusion.” Death sounds almost excited despite its indiscernible tone. “Yes, such a protection could be granted for a single visit, should you request it… But just as easily, it could be used to draw forth the one you seek, and to accept her into their realms. It is within their power.”

However, THEN you wouldn’t have the opportunity to explore the hells unmolested, or to secure additional soul coins, or anything else.

“Babe, please, can’t we at least THINK about this?” Irinnile pleads. “Maybe… Maybe we could visit later, sort that out then, after our other jobs are done?”

You can see shadows moving across the sand, cast by winged demons above. Some are like dragons, some are like men; some are like both, others like horrors far outside any realm mammalian or reptilian. They are circling like vultures; only Death’s presence keeps them at bay for now.

What do you do?
>Enter into the Hells, to explore deeper nightmare, rescue Chika, and secure soul coins
>Offer up your soul coin for Chika’s safe transport [to another afterlife? To the living world? Please specify] and go
>Use the Divine Favour [to liberate Chika, or to grant yourself protection for one journey? Please specify]
>Wake and leave this place, while you can--perhaps you'll return later as Irinnile sggests
>Write-in
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>>5160261
>Wake and leave this place, while you can--perhaps you'll return later as Irinnile sggests
>>
>>5160261
>Wake and leave this place, while you can--perhaps you'll return later as Irinnile sggests

sorry chika, but eternal torment is scary
if we find another coin we'll free you but we gotta save one for us
>>
>>5160261
>Offer up your soul coin for Chika’s safe transport to the living world and go
>>
>>5160261
>>Enter into the Hells, to explore deeper nightmare, rescue Chika, and secure soul coins
Adventure time
>>
>>5160261
I (>>5160561) will support the (>>5160586) hellventure as well.
>>
>>5160346
>>5160351
>>5160561
>>5160586
>>5160609
[Seems we have a tie game, lads! Awaiting a chosen one to break the tie, or for someone to change their vote!]

As usual, do not break the tie with a 1post ID
>>
>>5160261
>>Offer up your soul coin for Chika’s safe transport to the living world and go

Not in the mood for a trip to hell right now but not willing to leave Chika behind either.
>>
>>5160866
I feel like if we don't use this opportunity, we won't be returning here. Not like we can prepare more if it spawns us naked anyway.
>>
>>5160872
[Point of order: you arrived naked because your corporeal body is still in the living world. You would know from your readings that it is possible to enter PHYSICALLY into the demon realms... It's just very risky in its own right.]

>>5160866
[In the absence of any other votes, should I take that as a vote to leave? Otherwise, it doesn't break the stalemate, as there is no clear plurality for coin usage either.]
>>
>5161025
Yeah, but realistically foxanon will try to avoid coming back here, so unless you're planning to bring us back here, this is it.
>>
>>5160261
Mannunaul, is that his true name? And does the Incubus' symbol hold any sway in Hell?

>>5161035
Actually, I'm more in favor of the trip, I just think leaving everything so unresolved on the surface to risk our soul in a trip to Hell would be a dereliction of our duty to the Dark Gods.

But coming back is only viable if we have a soul coin as our backup emergency option.
>>
>>5161146
>Incubus
Considering his power remains in the real world and he doesn't plan on coming back anytime soon, I don't think his bargaining power holds up in here unless you can pull the demons to the real world. Meanwhile they have local equivalent of royalty to avoid in fear of getting eaten and/or raped.
>dereliction
Yeah well, I don't mind oversleeping in Hell a little, we REALLY deserve to rest our body after all we've done for the cause!
>coming back is only viable if we have a soul coin as our backup emergency option
I say we just teleport our dragonborn in here and make him eat whoever's in charge. Literally can't fail.
>>
>>5161200
>I don't think his bargaining power holds up in here
I don't know about that, seems to me him becoming a greater demon may translate down here as well. I assume the same applies to Irinnile when we decide to start dealing after we take care of our time-sensitive problems.
>Yeah well, I don't mind oversleeping in Hell a little, we REALLY deserve to rest our body after all we've done for the cause!
It's not that so much as the potential of dying here, even with the Dark God's help. It'll leave our part in the Grand Design in shambles if we were offed without completing our tasks, and using up our Divine Favor is essentially cashing in on our most powerful emergency option, at the exact time we're planning on dealing with the Archmage and the paladins.
>I say we just teleport our dragonborn in here and make him eat whoever's in charge. Literally can't fail.
As much as I love that meme option, we can't really transport him back after we're done, and I don't know how the Dark Gods would feel if we endangered the soul of the dragonborn just to mess about in Hell.
>>
>>5161025
[Barring any last minute votes, or vote changes, before i get home, looks like you're waking up, coin unspent.]
>>
>>5161371
You know, I am really tempted to go Hell hopping, even now. I hope you don't begrudge us for not going on this wild ride immediately, I just want some things settled before we potentially Bad End us.
>>
>>5160346
>>5160351
>>5160561
>>5160586
>>5160609
>>5160866

A part of you thrills at this rare opportunity for a legendary descent into the underworld of the demons. You relish the thought of conquering and subjugating this place in the name of the Dark Gods, or at least of wresting your fellow agent from the presumption of these shades of less darkness, and carrying her triumphant into the waiting embrace of the true Gods of the Dark…

But that’s a fantasy, isn’t it? A dream—appropriate, given that you are dreaming. You are naked, alone (save Irinnile), and unarmed. You could relinquish your soul coin to buy Chika back, or use your Divine favour to summon Chika to you or to gird you against horror and torment as you descend deeper…

But you are also afraid. Afraid to fail in your more imperative missions. Afraid of eternal torment. Afraid of wasting your boons and your loot.

“Irinnile, guide us back,” you instruct the succubus, who practically collapses with visible relief as the terrified tension leaves her astral form.

“THANK YOU,” she exclaims. “I knew you’d see sense, babe.”

You gaze past your demonic companion, deep into the abyss. You listen, but you do not hear your former comrade-in-arms cry out again. You hope Chika can hold out, endure as you were all surely trained. Perhaps another time… When all this is over… You will come back for her.

Irinnile take syour hand, and you allow her to do so. She guides you away from this place, as Death watches you go. You bow your head respectfully, and Death ‘s own skull simply tilts in curiosity. Irinnile takes to the wing, carrying you with her, as Death turns away. You, too, return your attention to other matters—primarily, the trio of powerfully-built aerial abominations who pursue the two of you on the wing.

“Faster!” you command.

“Don’t need to tell me twice,” Irnnile says through gritted teeth. “Don’t exactly wanna’ get caught by those big fuckers, neither!”

As Irinnile carries you higher and further, dogged all the way by the jeering, ravening devilspawn behind you, you shut your eyes against the ever-more-intense wind, and the noxious acidity it carries not your every orifice. When you open them again, you find yourself once more in the impenetrable misma of this place’s borderlands, and you shut them again for all the good your eyes will do you here.

Thus blinded, you can only listen to the wingbeats of your pursuers ever closer, can feel Irinnile straining, and can hear her cursing and swearing in a dozen tons as the gap grows ever narrower.
>>
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>>5161436
When you open your eyes next, you are screaming also… But only until you realize you in your—well, your aunt’s—bed. The accursed and burning darkness of the demonic realms are gone, giving way to curtain-diluted light of late afternoon in Hawksong.

‘Irinnile?’ you think.

‘I’m here,’ Irinnile replies breathlessly. ‘We’re out. We’re good. We’re safe.’

You draw a deep breath of your own, steadying yourself just in time for Callaghan to come crashing through the door, knocking it ajar with a clatter due to his speed. Lord Ysoef, for all his agedness and stiff joints, is not far behind him.

“Miss Rosgard!” Callaghan shouts. “What’s happened?”

“Nothing,” you say quickly. “It wass… Only a dream.”

As the recollections begin to grow hazy even now, you start to wonder if that might even be true… But Irinnile, deep within you, is still shaken.

“Yes,” Ysoef agrees after a time, taking off his glasses to polish and looking away, as if to hide his expression. “The dreams… They can be terrible.”

Callaghan is less sympathetic, almost annoyed at your panicked awakening have interrupted him, and he returns to his duties. Still, as he departs you can feel relief emanating from him as well.

“It doesn’t seem it was a restful sleep,” Lord Yosef notes sardonically, “but if you’ll stay for dinner… You may find that much pleasant at least. We have a halfling doing the cooking. You wouldn’t be able to imagine what those tiny people can pack away in them, and they aren’t indiscriminate in their palettes either. She’s made plenty, and it will almost certainly be good.”

He doesn’t say I, exactly—he’s too proud—but even without a succubus’ empathic abilities, you can tell: this pitiful old human man wants your company as he enjoys his meal.

What do you do?
>Stay and eat with Yosef, and attempt to learn more about him [specify if you have anything in mind?]
>Eat with him and, if you get the chance, slip your suicide poison into his soup
>Attempt to inflict your ectoplasmic enthrallment upon the old man over dinner
>You cannot stay—whatever you have in-store for Yosef must wait until after you retrieve that damned wraith!
>Both Yosef and wraith must wait, for you don’t wish to be late for your shift at The Pretty Kitty
>Write-in

>>5161421
Not at all. I'm genuinely surprised that you folks were so interested in leaping right into the depths of hell naked and unarmed! I would have written it, but it definitely wasn't a route I anticipated you anons even CONSIDERING./spoiler]
>>
>>5161439
>Stay and eat with Yosef, and attempt to learn more about him [Small talk, good memories, funny tidbits, and more info on the Archmage]
>Give your compliments to the chief personally (and ectoplasm her into subservience)

Invite the Archmage for dinner, give the halfling a bit of sleeping powder, and we have the trap set and baited.

Glad to know, RQM.
>>
>>5161439
I can back >>5161464
>>
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>actually left chika in hell despite 2.5 votes wanting to save her
>back to demonic snowballing marathon
I would kill that fox the second time if I could
>>
>>5161871
[If it's important to you, keep bringing it up -- especially around opportunities to dream, or to perform occult rituals. I'm sure you'll get a second chance, unless other players continue to want to hold the coin in reserve.. But if it doesn't get used, then as you approach the quest's end, you'll likely have more and more people will to use the coin for Chika, or just to risk a journey into the demon realms.]
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>>5161938
>Foxanon uses going to hell as an excuse to not use the coin
The time for an exorcism is now.
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>>5161464
>>5161498
>>5161871
>>5162017

It’s a good soup—you can’t deny it. You still eat sparingly, because you just know these abundant surface-spices and the vegetable portion of the halfling cook’s concoction will be a source of future indigestion, but it is masterfully made comfort food, and right now you could use the comfort. Despite the soup, you are still stewing.

‘Babe,’ Irinnile chirps, ‘you’re not, like… Mad with me, are you?’

You have another spoonful of soup, ignoring the succubus as you instead address Lord Yosef.

“Thank you again for you hosspitality,” you say.

“Well, I mean, I have the rooms,” Yosef says, once he has finished a spoonful. “It would seem a callous thing not to use them. You looked about ready to fall down.”

“Maybe,” you admit. “I may have been pushing mysself a little.”

Yosef shakes his head ruefully. “Rest now, when you’re young. When you get older, you’ll wish you had more time, and every second spent asleep will seem like a waste of what little time you have left.”

“Oh come now,” you say with a smile, “you sseemed to have plenty of life left in you when you were talking to me about your misadventures with your wife and the future Archmage.”

Yosef chuckles a little at that, and shrugs. “Rebecca was the kind of woman who has that effect on a man. She could make you feel half your age or twice your height. Like the world was a truly bright and shining place. That woman had a smile that could chase away the shadows from one’s heart…”

Yosef’s face grows wistful, but you see the darkness starting to set in again. You decide to interrupt his reverie.

“Do you have anymore sstoriesss about your exploits—you, Rebecca, the Archmage?”

“Oh Gods ABove, do I ever,” your human ancestor says, snapped out of his funk by the thought of one which seems to force a smile across his face the moment he thinks of it. “Let me tell you about the time that Rebecca suggested we go sailing. Did you know, the Archmage of the Hawksong Mages Tower actually gets SEASICK?”

“No!” you say, egging him on with feigned disbelief.

“It’s true,” Yosef smirks. “And Rebecca too, even though she suggested it! Ha! And she KNEW it before we headed out, too—said she wanted to ‘overcome her womanly weakness’. Well, when she framed it that way, you can imagine how poor Alfonse felt when he was right next to her throwing up over the railing.”

“Not you, though?” you ask.

“Well… The seas were choppy,” Yosef admits, looking away for a moment. “But I kept my lunch down. Someone needed to steer the ship—we hadn’t brought a crew!”
>>
>>5162083
The dinner continues on like this, the old man sharing his anecdotes and stories with you. You get a clearer picture of an Isaac Yosef your age, and of the deceased human woman from whom you apparently inherited much of your appearance from at the same time. You glimpse happier times for these people—their youth, their early forays into parenthood, their passions and interests. When you steer the conversation, it is to keep the Archmage in focus as well, but it seems that apart from formal social engagements, the old wizard’s presence in their lives diminished around the same time he committed to the path of mysticism.

“The Tower’s responsibilities grew greater,” Yosef says, “and so did my responsibilities, when my father passed and I became head of the household. We Yosefs may not manage the royal purse as we once did, but we still sit on many of the city’s commerce and budgetary councils. We had better! Without our ancestors’ money and steel, and for that matter some of our sons’ LIVES over the centuries, this city wouldn’t be standing!”

It's a sense of prideful responsibility you sense in the old man even now. Perhaps that, as much as his son’s death, is what motivates his crusade against your mother’s kind—your kind. Hawksong ‘s continuity is, to the Yosefs, a sort of familial responsibility.

“Perhaps I’ve neglected it too long,” Lord Yosef admits, scratching at his beard. “Miriam and her husband, they seem to be in over their heads with the duties, sometimes. Maybe… Maybe I have been too focused on a single aspect… But it IS a pressing one. The most pressing!”

“The Reptilian Raccce?” you say.

Yosef nods grimly. “You can sense their movements as I do, I notice. You can FEEL their presence in this place. They’re making moves—big moves, or Alfonse wouldn’t have humoured me!”

The conversation drifts back, inevitably, to the old human’s fixation. You nod along, dropping convincing ‘theories’ to misdirect his own, which Lord Yosef inevitably incorporates into his ever-deeper rabbit-hole of sinister Reptilian activity. His weakness remains his credulity, and perhaps his overestimation of your people’s machinations. He cannot see the signs of your actual activity reliably, so fixated is he upon his own skewed conception of the true Grand Design.
>>
>>5162084
“Well, I’m afraid I’ve got to go,” you say, standing up. “But thiss wass… Nicce.”

“Yes,” Yosef agrees slowly, seeming almost surprised. “It was, wasn’t it?”

“The ssoup wass esspecially good,” yous ay. “May I give my complimentsss to the chef, perssonally?”

“I don’t see why not,” the old lord says. “She should be down in the kitchen still, cleaning up or preparing. Always experimenting with recipes, that one… Well, halflings are enthusiastic folk as a general rule, aren’t they?”

You follow Lord Yosef’s directions, coming upon a three-foot-tall woman with hair braided to keep it out of her way and out of her soup. You come up behind her with your usual stealth. She never sees you coming…

<WANT: 15>

…And when you thank her with a kiss, her surprise leaves her helpless to resist, until she no longer wishes to do so.

“Keep an eye on Lord Yosssef for me, would you?” you ask.

The halfling cook can only nod, lips still parted slightly. She grips the counter, gently heaving from the convulsions which accompany her demonic possession.

‘I think I’ve only got one more puppet in me,’ Irinnile whines. ‘That one took a lot out of me. I only got so much ectoplasm, hotstuff!’

You frown at this complication. You were getting used to this ectoplasmic puppeteering, and the ever-expanding network it enables. As you say your farewell to Yosef and don your blue cloak once more, you consider this limitation. Perhaps it might be worth finding a way to empower Irinnile… But then, is a more powerful Irinnile something you really want?

‘H-hey, whaddaya’ mean?’ the demon asks, reading your thoughts.

You’ve been feeling… Concerned about Irinnile’s influence over you. Her ever-gnawing hunger, her skewed priorities, the possible psychological side-effects of playing host to such a creature. And now, you learn that behind bound t her brings your soul ever closer to the Hells, and might drag you down to where Chika is even now being tormented in ways you can scarcely fathom…

‘Babe, I wouldn’t let you—’

And she knew! Irinnile KNEW this was your destiny, and never spoke up about it! What is she hiding from you even now?

‘Babe, PLEASE, can we just talk about this?’
>>
>>5162086
You realize your pace has sped up, driven forward by anxiety or anger. You slow down—you haven’t even settled on where you’re going.

Where are you headed next?
>To the wraith’s crypt—it is almost night now, and it will be easier to locate and deal with the demon before it gets dark
>To rendezvous with Felman, and to see how he fared in scouting Henzler’s laboratory
>To The Pretty Kitty, to earn some more coin and keep up appearances
>Write-in

Do you talk to Irinnile?
>No—you have nothing to talk about right now
>Yes, you’ll hear her out, and you hope she will hear you out also
>Yes, you want to make her place as your SERVANT clear to her
>No, and in fact you command her to be SILENT from now on
>Write-in
>>
>>5162088
>To the wraith’s crypt—it is almost night now, and it will be easier to locate and deal with the demon before it gets dark
and of course
>Catch up with Yemrep, and have him lead you to where the wraith is hiding

>No—you have nothing to talk about right now
Logically we should boot her from Ismena's body, but have her stay around in the real world with the masking thing we have.
>>
>>5162088
>To The Pretty Kitty, to earn some more coin and keep up appearances
>To rendezvous with Felman, and to see how he fared in scouting Henzler’s laboratory
Maybe not in TPK, but near enough to not make traveling a nuisance.
>Yes, you’ll hear her out, and you hope she will hear you out also
We need her both for our eventual trip to Hell and for our subversion of the Tower. To those ends, it's probably best to begin empowering her to advance both goals more effectively.
>>
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[D&D tonight with the lads, but also we don't have many votes, so that's probably fine.]
>>
>>5162088
>>To The Pretty Kitty, to earn some more coin and keep up appearances
>>To rendezvous with Felman, and to see how he fared in scouting Henzler’s laboratory

>>No—you have nothing to talk about right now
>>
>>5163051
May the dice be with you, RQM!
>>
>>5162342
>>5162096
>>5163504
You slightly adjust course, taking more conscious control of your path through the city and rerouting towards The Pretty Kitty.

‘Babe, honest, I woulda’ mentioned!’ Irinnile protests.

You do not reply to her, narrowing your eyes and speeding up slightly.

‘You’re resourceful, an’ look at all that we’ve done together! We can—’

‘Prepare to reach out to Inquisitor Felman,’ you send back along the psychic link, ignoring the rest of the succubus’ last sentence.

‘…R-right, yeah, got it,’ she mutters, cowed.

You sense her emotional state: shameless as ever, but fearful, and… Maybe even sad? That’s novel. But you wonder… Can she manipulate these channels? Your empathic ability, after all, is also routed through Irinnile.

‘Lispy…’

You continue on, forcing your troubled expression to smooth itself into one of calm confidence and poised, princess-like perfection. You are Kamunu, in all her glory and with not a trace of angst when you pass by the red-tinted lanterns on the street and enter the back entrance of The Pretty Kitty.

“Kamunu, you’re early,” says Tricia quietly.

“Earleir than usual,” Alicia, her twin, agrees.

“Welcome,” they say in unison.

You smirk. “Have you two been pracccticing that?”

They nod.

“I ssusspect it’ss a bit more ‘creepy twinss’ than ‘ssexxy twinss’,” you note. “Maybe try… ‘How may we ssserve you?’ Ssomethign ssugesstive.”

The twins nod, whispering to each other as they fine-tune their routine. You raise an eyebrow at Felia, the door-woman.

“Business has flattened out a bit,” Felia explains. “Mina wants the girls to be greeting and attending more directly to guests, even lounge-side. There’s this new place, ‘Goldenrod’, that’s opened up… All human girls, mind, so we still have that going for us, but they offer this ‘full courtship experience’ thing with a girl literally hanging on a client’s arm and pretending to be his girl all evening. We don’t have the staff for that… But they’re stealing some johns from our semi-regular set.”

“I ssee,” you say.

What will you do about that?
>Coach the other girls in the arts of seduction, and emotional manipulation—you’re kind of an expert
>Speak with Mina about securing some additional shirin from her brother, and maybe some other intoxicants
>See about hiring on more staff as well—maybe more exotics, if that is TPK’s signature ‘thing’?
>You just ectoplasmically enthralled a quite good halfling cook; paired with Konrad Brugaghson, and maybe a skilled bartender, TPK could begin to build a reputation as a proper dining destination
>The pretty Kitty is fine… But Goldenrod needs some sabotaging, and you’re just the snake for the job
>Nothing—this lounge isn’t your problem, not for much longer
>Write-in
>>
>>5163894
You retreat to your room, only to find Vivian in it. She is, thankfully, alone.

“Oh!” she exclaims. “Uh, hi Kamunu. Sorry, when you, uh, weren’t staying here, I sort of got assigned this room.”

She is in the middle of getting ‘freshened up’, with six of ten fingernails painted a sky blue to match her eye-shadow. You hold back a sigh and, with a small smile, help her finish up. Then, without ceremony, you push her out the door and close it behind her.

“My turn,” you say.

You do not do any sort of ‘freshening’, however. You note that you’re a little low on oil to hide your scaly patches of skin, but you have enough for tonight and for tomorrow. First, though, you have Infiltrator business to attend to. You cross your legs, focus on the flow of energy the way that Edwin taught you, and close your eyes.

‘Irinnile, Felman.’

‘On it! One dorky incel comin’ up,’ she snaps to attention, full of forced cheer and eager to please.

You gaze through Felman’s eyes once again. He is seated in his home, at his desk, with a freshly-used quill and some parchment before hm. Some is blank, while other papers have been set aside for the ink to dry.

‘How did you fare?’ you ask across the ectoplasmic link.

Felman answers by turning to face a small assortment of notes and strange, arcane and alchemical instruments. It IS a SMALL assortment.

‘What happened?’ you demand.

“An apprentice, named Mayhew, went missing,” Felman explains. “Henzler could not be contacted. Suspicions must have been arisen surrounding Chimeric Research and Genesis. The Head inquisitor redirected Inquisition attentions to the facility itself, to inventory what was missing or damaged. He and the Archmage himself are investigating something on the bottom-most floor.”

‘So thiss wass all that you could get?’

Felman nods, causing your view to wobble. “I can return for more, but not without putting myself at risk. These notes and this equipment was taken from evidence, on the basis hat I am following a lead… But it will be a difficult thing to justify taking an entire lab, piece by piece, from the scene of a security breach.”

You suppose that makes sense… But this material surely won’t be enough to advance and facilitate Henzler’s plans to restore the Dragonborn’s glory!

What do you do?
>Have Felman take the materials he’s obtained so far to Henzler at the farmhouse—she will have to make do
>Send Felman back for more equipment and material—perhaps some of those from the fifth floor, where the Dragonborn was created and held?
>That bloody Archmage is behind this, and his investigations might yet turn up evidence of your involvement! Send Felman to assassinate him.
>Felman should sit tight and observe happenings—if the Archmage is redirecting investigations, you want to be kept abreast
>Write-in
>>
>>5163894
>The pretty Kitty is fine… But Goldenrod needs some sabotaging, and you’re just the snake for the job
Would be a shame if their workers started getting STDs. Oh, the dangers of sexwork!
>Coach the other girls in the arts of seduction, and emotional manipulation—you’re kind of an expert
Gotta improve what TPK has to offer, now that the Goldenrod spoiled the clientele.
>See about hiring on more staff as well—maybe more exotics, if that is TPK’s signature ‘thing’?
I like my rare catgirls, but it's optional alright.
>>5163896
>Have Felman take the materials he’s obtained so far to Henzler at the farmhouse—she will have to make do
>Ask what other friends at the Tower does he have, so they don't disappear by an accident
after that
>Felman should sit tight and observe happenings—if the Archmage is redirecting investigations, you want to be kept abreast

Words can't explain my amusement at this turn of events.
>>
>>5163894
>Coach the other girls in the arts of seduction, and emotional manipulation—you’re kind of an expert
>The pretty Kitty is fine… But Goldenrod needs some sabotaging, and you’re just the snake for the job

>>5163896
>Have Felman take the materials he’s obtained so far to Henzler at the farmhouse—she will have to make do
>Felman should sit tight and observe happenings—if the Archmage is redirecting investigations, you want to be kept abreast
>>
>>5163894
>The pretty Kitty is fine… But Goldenrod needs some sabotaging, and you’re just the snake for the job

>Felman should sit tight and observe happenings—if the Archmage is redirecting investigations, you want to be kept abreast
>Have Felman take the materials he’s obtained so far to Henzler at the farmhouse—she will have to make do
>>
>>5163894
>Coach the other girls in the arts of seduction, and emotional manipulation—you’re kind of an expert
>Speak with Mina about securing some additional shirin from her brother, and maybe some other intoxicants
>See about hiring on more staff as well—maybe more exotics, if that is TPK’s signature ‘thing’?

>>5163896
>Have Felman take the materials he’s obtained so far to Henzler at the farmhouse—she will have to make do
>Felman should sit tight and observe happenings—if the Archmage is redirecting investigations, you want to be kept abreast

Turns out killing Mayhew was a bad play. We should probably get Henzler to dispel their suspicions, and begin picking off other low ranking mages to dilute suspicions.
>>
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>>5164411
>>5164403
>>5164399
>>5163937

You instruct Felman to gather up what he has secured, and to bring it to the farmhouse where Head Chimercist Henzler waits. He hesitates to reply, clearly thrown by your frank revelation of the Head Chimericist’s involvement in your schemes and her current location… But the ectoplasm does its job, and he complies readily enough. That isn’t all you command of him, though: you also order the Inquisitor to watch and to report back on any discoveries which the Inquisition makes, and to pay special attention to the Archmage.

Your strategy to address The Pretty Kitty’s woes is similarly decisive. While you know you ought to be focusing more energy upon matters Reptilian, you cannot bring yourself to let this place fail—not after the comfort it, and its denizens, have given you. As such, you approach the Goldenrod threat with a tripartite solution:

>Step 1: Teaching the art of seduction

You take time between dances this evening to coach the girls—especially the shier ones—on how to approach a male human, how to hold his attention, and how to convince him of one’s special attachment to him.

“Sstart sslow—make him think he isss gradually earning your admiration, attraction, and ressspect. But! By the end, you musst make him feel as if hiss every word iss wissdom and wit—that your eyess hardly leave him, and that your mind never doess,” you say. “Do not laugh at everything, or he will think you think he iss a joke. Do not fail to have a responsse, even one of ssimple-minded wonderment, when he lookss to you expectantly.”

“Ugh, can’t I just spread ‘em and tell him he’s the biggest I’ve ever had?” complains Manuela LaPert with a performative groan.

You smirk, and say “Only if you want him heading sstraight to the budoir every time… And not buying food and drink all night firssst.”

“So that’s how those Goldenrod girls are doing it,” Helga Warchest says, running fingers thoughtfully through her fake beard. “They hook them with the wetwork, but they make it part of a full service package that INCLUDES a bunch of other purchases…”

Leave it to the dwarf to connect the financial dots faster.

“And remember,” you tell them all, “if you get gigglier and more pliable as he buyss you more ale, he’ll BUY more ale—for both of you!”

To your delight, you find that Robin—motivated by free alcohol and with a certain roughshod ingenue charm, has a particularly fine accounting with this new strategy, while The Twins play doting and demure double-servants to the wealthiest man in the audience as well. The latter two still shy away from much wetwork, but they go somewhere private with him afterwards, dropping sizeable bags of collected coin with Felia and Mina.

“Impressive,” Madam Mina admits, expression and voice both neutral.

“And that’ss only sstep one!” you say cheerfully.

“What’s step two, then, hun?” Felia asks.
>>
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>>5164457
>Step 2: Staffing!

“Exxoticss are our brand,” you explain. “Alwayss have been, ssicne the founding—unavoidably sso at firsst, but there’ss no reason not to lean into it.”

“Most of the city’s men are humans,” Mina notes skeptically.

“Right,” you say, “but sso are mosst of the ccity’ss dancerss and working girlss, yesss? They can get that ANYWHERE, and if we compete on human girlss alone, we’ll have no sspecial appeal—nothing that they can’t buy away from uss or replicate. But if we focusss on the outsssider, the exxxotic…”

“We’ll always stand out,” Felia says, nodding. “And Mina… You know a fetish guy is always willing to pay extra.”

“I do,” Mina mutters, not entirely enthusiastic… But she nods.

“Go ahead,” she says. “I’ll put out the word, but I want you looking for prospects too, Kamunu.”

“Me?” you say, a bit surprised. You’re concerned, too—you’d meant to delegate this. Your plate is already, as the humans say, quite full.

“Unless you have something else you’d rather be doing to help with all this?” Mina asks archly.

“Well…”

>Step 3: Sabotage

“…Not at all, Mina,” you say, giving her plausible deniability of the third, and most vicious, aspect of your plan.

What does your sabotage entail?
>Recruit the more daring girls to don disguises and stage a raid--smash up the joint and intimidate the Goldenrod’s staff and patrons
>Spread disease among the rival lounge’s patrons and staff, using a ‘sample’ taken from your alley-working victim a few nights ago
>Ectoplasm one of the Goldenrod girls and have her murder a patron—THAT will stir up some bad press!
>Go alone and assassinate the enemy brothel’s equivalent to Mina, then watch Goldenrod twist in the wind without leadership
>Approach this diplomatically—poach the best working girls of Goldenrod with a magically-enhanced counter-offer
>Write-in
>>
>>5164459
>Approach this diplomatically—poach the best working girls of Goldenrod with a magically-enhanced counter-offer

Maybe they aren't exotic, but we only need to keep them long enough for Goldenrod to go under.
>>
>>5164459
>Approach this diplomatically—poach the best working girls of Goldenrod with a magically-enhanced counter-offer
>Spread disease among the rival lounge’s patrons and staff, using a ‘sample’ taken from your alley-working victim a few nights ago
>>
>>5164459
>Spread disease among the rival lounge’s patrons and staff, using a ‘sample’ taken from your alley-working victim a few nights ago

>>5164548
And then boot them?
>>
>>5165007
Keep them, and expand our business!
>>
>>5165021
Then hopefully they have someone really worth taking.
>>
>>5164459
>Approach this diplomatically—poach the best working girls of Goldenrod with a magically-enhanced counter-offer
>Spread disease among the rival lounge’s patrons and staff, using a ‘sample’ taken from your alley-working victim a few nights ago
>>
Rolled 8, 19, 16, 6, 8, 9 = 66 (6d20)

>>5164548
>>5164588
>>5165007
>>5165120
>Approach this diplomatically—poach the best working girls of Goldenrod with a magically-enhanced counter-offer

At the earliest opportunity, you slip away from your duties at The Pretty Kitty to attend to… Well, another set of duties for The Pretty Kitty, you suppose, but those more suited to your nature as an Infiltrator. If you have been subverting the humans Hawksong all this time, you now do so in microcosm: you head to Goldenrod, to scoop their best talent.

It doesn’t take you long to find the place, even in the fairly spacious red lantern district of this great city. The sign immediately catches your eye: it is a sheaf of what surrounding a golden sceptre or staff—or, well, ‘rod’ you suppose. It’s quite large, fairly artfully done, and certainly a step up in size and craftsmanship from the small, fading pink cat and name placard which rests above entrance and exit of The Pretty Kitty. Perhaps a part of that is merely that it is clearly new—the paint is fresh and unfaded.

The better part of their appeal seems to lie within, though. You pull your cloak around yourself as you step inside—your face is not disguised, not yet, for you are making the pitch on behalf of The Pretty Kitty and to be doing so with NO connection to your Kamunu identity might raise more questions than it spares you. Instead, you rely on the dim, golden-sunset lighting of the interior and your hood to hide your identity as you scout the competition. What you find is… Appealing, to say the least.

The interior of this lounge is no bar with stage, but rather an expansive and open room full of plush furniture—mostly semi-circular loveseats or couches—and long tables. The tables are stacked with beverages and finger food such as grapes and nuts. The couches are replete with human males, who are themselves replete with attendant human females. And the quality of these females! You aren’t sure whether to be envious or desirous, but you certainly can’t help admiring them in what seems to be their uniform: a golden, possibly-silken robe sinched up below the breasts to accentuated their figure, with bare, smooth, waxed or shaven legs deliberately-stretched and well-oiled to reflect the light as much as the robe they wear.

You wait, biding your time, but there’s only so long you can skulk around the periphery before you are detected. Instead, you choose your targets carefully, and you wait for one such highly-attractive golden-blonde female’s client to depart. She watches him go, and you don the second cloak of your glamour and approach.

“Pardon me,” you say, “but I can jussst ssay that I am quite the admirer of your craft?”

“Hm?” she says, looking to you. “Sorry, honey, we don’t cater to women.”

You smile, and say "You've misssundersstod."
>>
>>5165217
>19

“What about to apprecciatorsss of the artsss?”

“Huh?” she asks, blinking rapidly as if stunned by something—your glamour, you suppose.

“You’re sso gracceful in your movementsss. Impeccable in your approach!” You sit down next to her, and your smile widens as she doesn’t move away. You brush her hair away from her face. “You’re beautiful, but youa re not jussst your facce or your curvesss… You have more insside, don’t you? How would you like to DANCCCE?”

By the end of the evening, you have this woman—Didiane—firmly fixated upon the idea of a career in the ‘performing arts’ at The Pretty Kitty, and you’ve encouraged her to spread the word to the Goldenrod’s other talent. It’s a good start, but it isn’t the whole of your plan.
>>
>>5165230
>Spread disease among the rival lounge’s patrons and staff, using a ‘sample’ taken from your alley-working victim a few nights ago

There are two other benefits to being a succubus that, thus far, you had regarded as ancillary and of lesser importance: an immunity to the hazards of unwanted pregnancy and sexually-transmitted disease. Since the… Unpleasant incident with the wererats many moons ago, you had taken to choosing your partners fairly carefully, so such resistances had been out-of-mind. It was only when you were forced to feed upon that waif walking the streets a few nights ago that sexual infections had become a point of consideration, and it was in that exchange that you discovered another aptitude of Irinnile:

‘I can store ‘em and spread ‘em, too!’ she says with a giggle.

You step outside long enough to shapeshift the features of a human man—ALL the features, up to and including the one the succubus first devised for use with Zi the Goblin, down below. Then, you return—not as poacher or observer, but as a client. You secure one of the less-attractive of the admittedly altogether quite fetching cast and crew of the Goldenrod. It costs nearly your whole night’s take from The Pretty Kitty between the woman and the ‘experience’ (including a drink and some accursed grapes that worsen your indigestion from earlier) but you buy her services. You give her some of the same demon-powered loving that makes you so welcome with a certain someone in Goblintown, but you leave her with more than memories…

You leave her with the same affliction that the street-prostitute had. Soon, she and all her clients will be itchy, bumpy, scabby… And, since you displayed no signs, she’ll be none-the-wiser.
>>
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>>5165232
‘A dirty trick, but all’s fair in sexwork and war, amirite?’ Irinnile cackles.

You don’t reply, simply leaving the venue and eagerly returning to a more familiar form as soon as you are out of sight.

‘So, what’s next? Irinnile asks.

Again, you don’t respond… Though you do consider the question. It is very late now, so late that it is almost early. The sun hasn’t risen yet, which offers many opportunities…

‘Come on, babe… How long you gonna’ give me the silent treatment?’ Irinnile asks. “I’ve been good! Didn’t eat any girls up, spread that disease for ya’… Forgive me?’

You rub your temples, trying to focus.

‘Babe…?’

What do you do?
>Have Yemrep lead you to the graveyard where the wraith is basing its activities—either you’ll find it haunting nearby, or you’ll wait for it to return to its crypt come morning and negotiate with it then
>Do some dream-delving to gather info and insinuate ideas into an unconscious target [specify who]
>Physical subterfuge time—you plan to sneak back into the Yosef Manor to steal those Galsses of Truesight!
>Physical subterfuge time—you plan to slip into the Tower once more to secure Henzler’s other equipment!
>Check in with a thrall [who?]
>Write-in

Do you speak with Irinnile?
>Yes
>No
>Yes, but harshly
>>
>>5165234
>Return to TPK, tell mina about your Goldenrod pitch and get some rest
We could also discuss the renovation or The Pretty Kitty sign and getting casting couches.
The main reason why I wanna return is so that Ismena can get some time to rest, since we've been running on unrealistic amounts of plot-coffee for far too long.
Why the spoiler?
>No
but I'm partial to
>Harshly
She literally sentenced Ismena to being dragged into hell with her and didn't bother to mention it even after they soulbonded. Better come up with a way to fix this eternal doom scenario instead of saying sorry, because "sorry" ain't gonna fucking fix it. The exorcism will, though!
>>
>>5165234
>Do some dream-delving to gather info and insinuate ideas into an unconscious target [Archmage]
May be a poor idea.
>Physical subterfuge time—you plan to slip into the Tower once more to secure Henzler’s other equipment!
Alternatively, we could just take the glasses and end that threat for the moment.

>Yes
Anons should stop worrying about eternal doom, we got a soul coin and time to deal with that shit, and we still using her abilities to good effect.
>>
>>5165234
Alternatively, we can dream delve into someone else like Mina or Edwin.
>>
>>5165521
>>5165525
[For ease of vote counting, could I please ask you to clarify your exact vote, since you listed many alternatives and options?]
>>
>>5165547
Sorry about that. Consider >>5165521
my official vote, with a quick dash of Edwin.
>>
>>5165521
>Anons should stop worrying about eternal doom
You're crazy. If there's heaven and hell, I hope you end up in the latter and have an opportunity to think about this again.
>we got a soul coin and time to deal with that shit
We have ONE and can die at any moment. Doesn't change the fact she knew all this time she is a risk to our very soul and willingly kept it away from us.
>>
>>5165234
>Have Yemrep lead you to the graveyard where the wraith is basing its activities—either you’ll find it haunting nearby, or you’ll wait for it to return to its crypt come morning and negotiate with it then

>Yes
tell her no more secrets, but honestly was anyone surprised by the hell thing? it was an expectation of mine ever since we started demon dabbling. surprised the infiltrator didn't at least suspect
>>
>>5165234
>Sleep

>Yes, but harshly
>>
>>5165557
>how can you be nonchalant about a fictional character going to a fictional hell? I hope you go to real hell!

bro that's fucked up ngl
>>
[Barring additional votes, I'm interpreting the votes as:

>Rest at TPK, with a brief discussion of your plans with Mina
>Have a heated exchange with Irinnile, harshly laying out how you feel about what she's done but also listening to what she has to say in response

Fair aggregate of the above votes? Will be home soon!]
>>
>>5165234
>Rest at TPK, with a brief discussion of your plans with Mina

>Yes, but harshly
>>
>>5165817
>>5165751
>>5165559
>>5165521
>>5165259
‘We’ll talk about this later,’ you say.

‘But—!’

‘Irinnile,’ you say, “I invoke your true name, demon, and I bind you and command you by—’

‘Okay! Okay!’ she relents.

The succubus’ presence is barely detectable, even with effort, for the rest of the return trip to The Pretty Kitty. It is, perhaps, the quietest your mind has been in weeks.

…Maybe even a little lonely.

When you return, Mina is waiting for you, albeit with a certain aloof and casual air.

“I see you skipped out on clean-up again,” she says.

You smile, and say “But not on work. May I sspeak with you in your officce?”

When you and the cat-woman are alone, you reveal some—though certainly not the seedier and more criminal elements—of your activities.

“You recruited their girls?” Mina asks, dumbfounded.

You nods, smug in your efficiency. “Their besst talent will be pouring in here looking for work—watch!”

“I thought out plan was to hire more ‘exotics’, not humans?” she asks.

“Why not both?” you shrug.

“Money,” she says frankly. “COIN, Kamunu. How will I pay them all?”

You hesitate to reply. Your other ideas—renovations, new furniture new signage… They’ll all take coin as well. With more talent, and with Goldenrod undercut as well, that coin will surely flow into TPK’s coffers… But perhaps not immediately.

How do you suggest Mina deal with it?
>Take out a loan—perhaps you can secure the funding with your special skills and high-placed connections?
>Let you handle it… With glamour and enthrallment, to keep wages low
>Keep the girls on staff just long enough to hurt Goldenrod, then fire all of them but the very best
>That’s Mina’s problem, not yours
>Write-in
>>
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>>5165857
When your meeting with Mina concludes, you retire to a room… But not YOUR room. Vivian is apparently ‘attending to business’ there, and you’re loathe to interrupt. The communal bunk for the part-time, low-rent girls wont do, either—you need privacy to speak properly with Irinnile, even if it is a psychic communication.

‘Could dream-delve,” Irinnile suggests, barely a whisper.

‘Fine,’ you agree, for lack of other options.

You stow your possessions under your bunk, carefully sandwiching them in such a way that any thief would have a tough time accessing your most valuable and sensitive items without disturbing you. Then, you slay down, crossing your arms and waiting for sleep to come. You certainly feel overworked enough to rest…

But be in the mid-day nap, or the simmering anger awaiting an outlet, you can’t sleep. Not even meditation can rest your mind.

Instead, you sit up, sling your bag over your shoulder, grab your well-wrapped Serpent priest staff, and storm out of the room and out of the brothel’s back exit. A few female humanoids watch you go, but you pay them no heed. They are not the focus of your frustration.

“You never sssaid a word!” you hiss, aloud but under your breath. Across your psychic connection, you continue: ‘I have DREAMED every day of earning a place in the realms of the Dark Gods, where the righteous and victorious are honoured guests and treasured servants, and you STRIPPED me of that! You sentenced me to HELL, is self-satisfied silence!’

‘Babe… I’m sorry, okay?’

‘Sorry isn’t going to fix this,’ you spit. ‘An exorcism will!’

You can FEEL Irinnile flinch, your soul’s bond with her wavering, weakening as she shies away from your wrath.

‘You… You can’t!’ she cries—pleads, really.

‘Can’t I?’ you menace her. ‘SHOULDN’T I?’

‘You have the soul coin,’ she murmurs, her presence within you shrunken and small with fear of you. ‘That’s why I didn’t want you to use it up…’

‘I didn’t have the soul-coin when you damned me,’ you fire back, ‘and I only have ONE! I could die at any time, Irinnile!’

‘I won’t let that happen,’ she asserts.

You laugh.

‘You’re a cowardly, MINOR demon. What, exactly, are YOU going to do about something like that?’
>>
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>>5165859
Irinnile doesn’t reply then—perhaps she has nothing to say. You exhale, letting the tension leave you. Perhaps you shouldn’t be surprised—perhaps, if you’d thought about all your demonic dabblings, you’d have seen this coming. Still, IRINNILE knew. There was no guesswork for her. How could she let you just stumble into this damnation like… Like a fool?!

‘You’re not,’ Irinnile says then.

‘What?’

‘You’re not a fool,’ she insists, with steely certainty. ‘You’re clever, and brutal, and sneaky, and sexy, and SMART. So… Yeah, okay. You’re right. I didn’t tell you. I didn’t want you getting rid of me… But I knew you’d be okay. I knew you’d get out of it. An’ maybe… maybe I’m not so smart, or very good at being honest, or truthful, or… GOOD. I’m a demon!’

Irinnile pauses, mustering herself, then concludes: ‘But I know that YOU can come up with a good plan, and I’ll have your back, ‘cause I love you, and I won’t abandon you.’

You stand, alone but not alone, in the alley. You’re silent, contemplating the succubus’ words. Eventually, you return to The Pretty Kitty’s bunks, replacing your items beneath your bed and rolling over onto your side to stare at the wall.

‘Babe?’

What do you do?
>Accept Irinnile’s apology, because you love her too, and you trust her within the limits of her demonic nature
>Redefine the boundaries of your relationship—you need Irinnile, but you are her master, and she needs to remember that [will weaken soulbond]
>You can’t trust Irinnile anymore—you’re going to exorcise her when you’re done in this city
>You NEED to fix this—Irinnile’s exorcism is your first priority tomorrow
>Write-in
>>
>>5165860
>>You NEED to fix this—Irinnile’s exorcism is your first priority tomorrow
>>
>>5165860
>Accept Irinnile’s apology, because you love her too, and you trust her within the limits of her demonic nature

>She owes you, big time- part joking, part not.
>>
>>5165883
>>5165899

[there's also a vote prompt at >>5165857 ]
>>
>>5165902
Ah, right.

>Utilize some of the excess low performers as marketing girls and bar wenches- only the best get to dance and work the champagne rooms. Maybe that'll help.
>>
>>5165883
>Let you handle it… With glamour and enthrallment, to keep wages low
>>
>>5165857
>>Keep the girls on staff just long enough to hurt Goldenrod, then fire all of them but the very best
That's capitalism baby

>>5165860
>>Redefine the boundaries of your relationship—you need Irinnile, but you are her master, and she needs to remember that [will weaken soulbond]
>>
>>5165857
>Utilize some of the excess low performers as marketing girls and bar wenches- only the best get to dance and work the champagne rooms. Maybe that'll help.
See, this is what happens when you let your guard down around RQM's votes!
>>5165860
>You NEED to fix this—Irinnile’s exorcism is your first priority tomorrow

>>5165779
I was fishing for his reaction to tell him he shouldn't worry about it.
>>
>>5165857
>Take out a loan—perhaps you can secure the funding with your special skills and high-placed connections?
>Let you handle it… With glamour and enthrallment, to keep wages low

We do have connections now, don't we?

>>5165860
>Accept Irinnile’s apology, because you love her too, and you trust her within the limits of her demonic nature

May I remind people that a significant portion of our abilities does hinge on Irinnile being soulbonded to us, and the fact that we get debuffs if we break said bond? Getting double debuffed just because some of you have a hard-on for exorcism is such a brainlet take akin to eating Mayhew's soul and forcing suspicion to fall on our puppet Henzer.
>>
>>5166148
>May I remind people that a significant portion of our abilities does hinge on Irinnile being soulbonded to us
May I remind you we're a trained saboteur and killer, not a hell-yearning romantic? And don't act like your boner for fictional relationships doesn't constantly make you act unreasonably.
>>
>>5166170
I know you have a boner for anti-demon shit, but even you can't honestly say that intentionally removing buff and replacing them with debuffs is somehow less unreasonable, especially so if those debuffs double. We couldn't afford the Broken-heart debuff when Edwin kicked us to the curb, and now we're planning on ruining another productive relationship because our feelings were hurt? I'm starting to think that you're just anti-social anon.
>>
>>5165860
>Let you handle it… With glamour and enthrallment, to keep wages low
Though we could just secure a favorable loan when we need to with a rich patron.
>Accept Irinnile’s apology, because you love her too, and you trust her within the limits of her demonic nature
>>
>>5166180
>boner for anti-demon shit
Your forgot the part where I said I didn't want a demonic possession in the first place.
>but even you can't honestly say that intentionally removing buff and replacing them with debuffs is somehow less unreasonable
I can and I'm saying. From the point of view of Ismena, this demon is endangering her very soul and lied to her, which is MUCH WORSE than fucking feeling baaad.
Separation is very much the most reasonable option to keep her around for boons and no longer be in danger.
But you don't give a shit, you just want your sex companion around!
>I'm starting to think that you're just anti-social anon.
Wow, how much for a full psychological evaluation?
>>
>>5166192
The problem is that it isn't reasonable, it jeopardizes our tactical and strategic situation on multiple levels. Ectoplasm manipulation is the cornerstone of our operation, where we finally have the organizational ability to actually delegate our tasks instead of trying to juggle a thousand minor things at once, and I'm sorry to say that ectoplasm isn't a natural ability of our infiltrator. We can't keep doing everything solo, we need to delegate, and you paranoid autists couldn't trust your own shadow if it wasn't sewed on like Peter fucking Pan!
But you don't give a shit, you just want keep murdering until everyone we know is dead or rejects us!
>Wow, how much for a full psychological evaluation?
5 shekels, though you wanting to throw away our two most powerful boons over a incompetent mook and the chance to get some demonic loot from untrustworthy demons does raise a couple red flags on it's own anon.
>>
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>>5166201
>Ectoplasm manipulation is the cornerstone of our operation
Did you even read this:
>Separation is very much the most reasonable option to keep her around for boons and no longer be in danger.
Good job paying attention.

>ability to actually delegate our task
Shame you didn't think of this when everything was falling on Ismena's bleeding sleep-deprived fucking head and we had to do everything in person without rest despite having the opportunity to delegate it to Yemrep.
>paranoid autists couldn't trust their own shadow if it wasn't sewed on like Peter fucking Pan!
We just got into more complications because there was no "paranoid autist" to think about the potential consequences of wanting to hire too much extra staff at TPK. It's a small thing, still proves this quest requires you to think of all the results of your actions. You don't think of any, unless you need to defend your personal goals.
>But you don't give a shit, you just want keep murdering until everyone we know is dead or rejects us!
You don't give a shit that this isn't true, you just want to keep saying this fucking meme every time.

>We can't keep doing everything solo
>Refuses to split with the demon despite having to micromanage every thrall in person
The most reasonable solution is to split with her and make her take care of the ectoplasmed and Incubus while we do other things and don't have to worry about eternal fucking doom that being possessed by her brings to our soul. But hey, I guess you just don't understand how two physical individuals can accomplish twice as much as a single person in the same amount of time.
I guess you just like to have a demon rammed up your ass, even if it means going to hell with it.
>>
>>5165883
>>5165899
>>5165908
>>5165911
>>5165956
>>5166071
>>5166148
>>5166187
You can’t just be DONE with the demon within, obviously. Irinnile is a cornerstone of your operations! You route communications through her, guide and maintain thralls through her. You delve dreams with her powers, fight battles under her protection and often with her natural weapons. She gives you wings, and the ability to shift your shape, and amplifies both stealth and seduction capabilities!

…But some of those could be done without her being in your body, in your head.

No, you have to acknowledge the elephant in the room. You’re keeping the succubus bonded to your body and soul right now because you need her abilities, but you’re forgiving her because you love her. You can’t bring yourself to say it, not under these conditions, but…

‘I love you too,’ she says, hearing your thoughts and feelings.


‘No more secrets,’ you snap. ‘Understood?’

You get the mental image of your crimson-skinned spiritual companion in a naval uniform, snapping a salute with her tongue sticking out.

You sigh, to hide a small chuckle.

‘What are we doin’ ‘bout the Goldenrod Girls situation?’ she asks, all-too-eager to change the subject.

‘I’ll use my magic and my diplomacy to keep their wages low,’ you say. ‘Those who underperform will be reduced in duties and pay once Goldenrod is closed… or cast aside.’

‘There’s my ruthless evil businesswoman girlboss babe! Ain’t no fool comin’ up with plans like HESE, amirite?’

‘Goodnight, Irinnile,’ you respond, rolling your eyes at her obsequious praise.

The emotional turmoil of this whole drama was enough to burn off some excess energy, and you finally find rest. Better yet, it is a proper, Reptilian res: a torpor without dreams, lasting a scant four hours. You awake refreshed and ready to tackle the day. Dawn’s light has barely begun to breach the clouds in the sky.

It has been four days since the attack on the Gala. Two demons remain roaming the streets of Hawksong. The Paladins and Inquisition have been diverted, but the Archmage and Lord Yosef (still alive and armed with glasses) are both, in their own ways, drawing closer to the truth, though you have stalled them.

What do you do?
>Check in with a thrall [whom?]
>Report back to Roth or Albacete—they should be updated on what’s happened
>Check in on Lord Bianchi—how is he holding up? Does he have any more info on the last demon?
>Have Yemrep lead you to the last known hiding-place of the wraith
>Pay a visit to Lady Vaz, to enthrall or exterminate that branch of the Yosef family tree
>Write-in
>>
>>5166374
>Have Yemrep lead you to the last known hiding-place of the wraith
Time to tackle our tasks one by one.
>>
>>5166374
>Have Yemrep lead you to the last known hiding-place of the wraith
>>
>>5166374
>Pay a visit to Lady Vaz, to enthrall or exterminate that branch of the Yosef family tree

not a direct move on yosef, archmage won't be sus
>>
>>5166468
Anon, can we wait until after we've removed the demons from Hawksong?
>>
>>5166477
I suspect that's how the votes will go
>>
>>5166374
>>Have Yemrep lead you to the last known hiding-place of the wraith

One day, we'll banish the succubi back to hell, but today is not that day.
>>
>>5166559
Or we could drop her into her own body now without losing most of the benefits from her powers. Most important - ectoplasm - doesn't require us being possessed to work.
The only person losing here is Zi, the onahole.
>>
>>5166374
>Check in with a thrall [Felman]
>Have Yemrep lead you to the last known hiding-place of the wraith
>>
>>5166846
+1
>>
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>>5166383
>>5166416
>>5166468
>>5166559
>>5166846
>>5166991
You’ll waste no further time, you decide—you’re going to secure yourself a demon or two, and wrap up this whole hunt. You pack up your things and go, stopping only briefly to inform a drowsy-looking Felia over a cup of tea (boiled water for you) of your proposed strategy for dealing with the matter of no-doubt soon-to-arrive Goldenrod recruits.

“So hire them all, then hang half of them out to dry with no work?” Felia asks, frowning slightly. “That’s going to put a lot of girls out on the street, hun.”

“That’ss bussssinesss.”

“I don’t know,” she says noncommittally, crossing her arms under her tremendous chest.

“Run it by Mina,” you say dismissively. “She’ll undersstand.”

“Don’t you want to tell her yourself?” Felia asks.

“I can’t,” you say with an easy smile. “Busssy day ahead!”

With no further ado, you’re off. It’s quite the hike across town to the southwestern outskirts. When you begin to tire, you make efficient use of the break to reach out through Irinnile’s ectoplasmic network to Inquisitor Felman.

“The items you requested were delivered,” he informs you, as if muttering it to himself. You make certain he is away from his colleagues before he does so, of course. “What… WAS that thing?”

You immediately intuit that he must mean the Dragonborn, having caught a glimpse of it while delivering the Head Chimercicist’s notes and instruments.

‘Do not sspeak of it,’ you command. ‘In fact, forget it altogether.’

“…Understood. I will try.”

It will have to do for now. Does the ectoplasm enable such manipulation of memory? At the very least, he won’t be telling anyone about the liberated draconian scion.
>>
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>>5167310
‘What of the ongoing invessstigation?’ you think at him.

“We’ve found some evidence of a number of looting throughout the wreckage of the third floor—the demonological laboratories.” Felman pauses. “And of some chimeras having been ‘stolen’ by some means, rather than slain outright. We knew they didn’t escape through anywhere visible from above, and so the underground stream sued to dispose of waste became a probable means of exit. We investigated it at the Archmage and Head Inquisitor’s instructions, over protests of the Tower Guardian, and found evidence of a missing owlbear having passed through there and…”

‘And?’ you press

“…And something larger, which I now increasingly suspect I could identify, were I capable of talking about it.”

You feel a chill go up your spine, and ask ‘Does anyone else know what escaped that facility?’

“The Archmage, surely,” Inquisitor Felman reasons. “He is behaving strangely, speaking with great reluctance and without fully revealing his suspicions. He watches us all with some uneasiness—even the Inquisition—and the Paladins have been locked out entirely, so that much at least is good. Still, it’s as if he suspects we are not what we appear to be…”

Do you give Felman (or your other thralls) any further instructions?
>Just keep a low profile and continue to observe
>Take action against the Archmage [Assassination? Kidnapping? Undermining his authority?]
>Spread further misinformation
>Leak a warped version of the investigation to The Grey Press and let yellow journalism soil their reputation and sensationalize the story
>Have them all ‘self-destruct’ to cover your trail before they are found out
>Write-in
>>
>>5167314
You feel a renewed urgency as you close your communications with Felman, and you move with increased vigor towards the grave-mounds where the wraith is said to sustain itself. Yemrep is summoned en route, serving as a guide to the particular half-buried family crypt wherein your quarry (or recruit?) was previously lurking. Only as morning arrives in full does the light of day diminish the hellish weakling to practical non-existence, but the bloated toad has done his job by then—you are there.

However, as your approach, you feel a bolt of instinctual fear go through you. It is not your own insight, but Irinnile’s, which she shares with you: she detects a living soul within the crypt. You hang back, hiding in the shadow of a gravestone until you see a figure emerge from the sepulcher in question:

Sir Chase, the Paladin.

You shudder, immediately scanning the surrounding hills for his gryphon… But no, he has come here alone, it seems. His stance, his grip on his unsheathed sword, and his dour expression and exhausted eyes speak to a night of frustrated failure. That much is good, but the certainty you have that WHAT he failed at was much the same as your own objective—finding the wraith and ‘securing’ it in his own way—is far less comforting.

‘I thought Felman the Incelman said this asshole was off the case?’ Irinnile says, her mental voice hushed even though you alone can hear her.

“Sso did I,” you mutter, before returning to psychic correspondence as well. ‘Maybe he took that personally. He seems like a prideful human. This may be a matter of glory-seeking vanity… It would explain why he brought no gryphon.’

‘Do we gank him?’ Irinnile asks, though you sense her trepidation.

That silvered, no-doubt holy blade fills her with existential dread; the knowledge that Irinnile’s demon-reducing and regenerative capabilities will be of limited utility against a so-called ‘holy’ warrior, especially by daylight, doesn’t make you feel overly optimistic, either.

Still… He is alone. There are no witnesses. You have the element of surprise. And he is clearly shrewder and more determined than you gave him credit for.

What do you do?
>Attack and slay Sir Chase, if you can
>Spy upon Sir Chase, and follow him if possible to learn what he is up to
>Approach Sir Chase innocently, as a mourner, and attempt to get some info out of him—maybe even an opportunity to enthrall or puppeteer the Paladin!
>Leave this place before you are noticed—you want no suspicion cast upon you
>Write-in
>>
>>5166218
Separation wouldn't allow us to keep the boons, you nugget.
>Shame you didn't think of this when everything was falling on Ismena's bleeding sleep-deprived fucking head
Why the fuck did you think I wanted Foxy to become our partner? Hell, if it wasn't for my advocating shit, we wouldn't even have the benefit of the Incubus' network to fall back on. We'd be in a much shitter position when it came to dealing with the post-Gala consequences.
>We just got into more complications because there was no "paranoid autist" to think about the potential consequences of wanting to hire too much extra staff at TPK
That isn't a complication, that's a business issue. The fucking complication is Mayhew disappearance raising alarms in the Tower's security apparatus, putting one of highest placed thralls into suspicion, not 'oh no, we got to many employees on TPK payroll'.
>You don't give a shit that this isn't true, you just want to keep saying this fucking meme every time.
Anon, if this wasn't fucking true why would I even bring it up as a complaint? Your first and only solution to our problems is to kill them all and pray the authorities don't notice the trail of bodies leading back to us. You done it with the were-rats, you done it with the larpers, you've done it with the fox, you attempted to do it with Devil-Zivic, and now it's Mayhew turn. You don't plan shit out, you murder when there's an issue, which then turns it into a bigger fucking problem to deal with, and it's frustrating that you're willfully blind to it.
>The most reasonable solution is to split with her
That not a real solution, that kicking the can down the road. I know your paranoid autism will trigger if we can't ensure total control over Irinnile and her dealings, just like the Incubus and everyone else we had a chance to partner with.
>But hey, I guess you just don't understand how two physical individuals can accomplish twice as much as a single person in the same amount of time.
That's a bullshit take and you know it. We could've had Foxy as our partner-in-crime, yet you chose to kill her out of paranoid autism, same with all of our other covert business partners!

I'll probably leave this argument here, but I've been bending over backwards trying to find ways to get us to organize some covert agents to help deal with the ever growing list of shit we need to do, and it's been a bitch trying to get you and the other anons to calm your paranoia boner to even listen to half of them. You can't keep on killing potential helpers/partners just because you're feeling paranoid about it. I mean, Mayhew wasn't even a security risk to our identity (we shapeshifted into a dead woman, remember?), yet you killed him because you thought he was a loose end! We'll be lucky if we can get Henzler to shift the suspicion onto him as the Tower leak.
>>
>>5167314
>Take action against the Archmage [Undermining his authority]
>Spread further misinformation
Make it seem like The Paladins are plotting to usurp the Tower's reputation and authority, and the Archmage is either playing ball or powerless to stop their encroachment and interference in Tower affairs.

We'll post a warped story after this misinformation has taken root.

>>5167318
>Approach Sir Chase innocently, as a mourner, and attempt to get some info out of him—maybe even an opportunity to enthrall or puppeteer the Paladin!
Make sure we shapeshift into a different but still beautiful body.
>>
>>5167314
>Leak a warped version of the investigation to The Grey Press and let yellow journalism soil their reputation and sensationalize the story
hue

>Spy upon Sir Chase, and follow him if possible to learn what he is up to
>>
>>5167314
>Just keep a low profile and continue to observe
Archie is clearly looking for Reptilians and thralls, so it's best to NOT give him clues that he's actively searching for. Like having one of his very Inquisitors go out of his way to smear the investigation at The Grey Press.
>Spy upon Sir Chase, and follow him if possible to learn what he is up to
Killing himbabd framing it on Wraith would be perfect, tho.
>>
>>5167314
>Leak a warped version of the investigation to The Grey Press and let yellow journalism soil their reputation and sensationalize the story

>>5167318
>>Spy upon Sir Chase, and follow him if possible to learn what he is up to
>>
>>5167314
>Just keep a low profile and continue to observe
>Spread further misinformation

>>5167318
>Spy upon Sir Chase, and follow him if possible to learn what he is up to
>>
Rolled 13, 9, 8, 14 = 44 (4d20)

>>5167399
>>5167868
>>5167681
>>5167416
>>5167725
You do with Sir Chase the Paladin as you did with Alfonse Sylvestre the Archmage: you hold back, observing cautiously.

In the case of the Archmage, you perhaps did a LITTLE bit more than that, admittedly. Directly undermining him, let alone leaking anything to the press, would risk exposing one of your agents to his scrutiny at a time when his alertness is at its most heightened, so instead you have each of your three embedded mage-thralls spread misinformation in their own way.

Lithobathius, the Tower Guardian, continues to speculate aloud about the threat of Southerners, encouraging purging the darker-hued southerly humans from the staff and barring their entry into the Initiates’ Village for the duration of this crisis.

The Magus Auctor, Federigo, reports on having seen and spoken with Henzler to his fellow higher-ranking officials, and tells that she is her usual self (and certainly not hiding out in a discrete farmhouse performing unauthorized experiments on stolen Tower property for dark forces); further, he worries ‘privately’ to a select few that the Archmage is not cutting the Paladins out of the investigation, but rather has been cut out of the investigation BY the Paladins, hence the narrower scope.

Inquisitor Felman, closest to the investigation, sullies or erases clues that point to your presence or to Alhazred’s whenever possible, and instead supplies his own theory: missing young Assistant Chimericist Mayhew was working with someone, sabotaging and engineering this attack from the inside, and likely smuggled out the missing chimeras (and maybe even demons) at their behest. He, too, advocates for the ever-more-popular Southern Demonist Theory, but not so insistently as to become suspicious in that insistence.

While your brainwashed pawns are following their instructions, you shift your face—just enough to hide your identity from close scrutiny by the Paladin if you are spotted, and you follow him.

<WANT: 16>

You creep after the Paladin as he scours a few more deep, dark holes. You can tell he has no luck, though: there are no demonic wails, no cries of chivalric triumph, and his expression only grows more irate as he marches in and marches out of the human corpse-depositories. Eventually, he returns to Hawksong, and (from a safe distance, tagging him with your own pair of mage-glasses to enable this), you follow him there as well.
>>
>>5167932
>>5167932
Sir Chase does not return to the Paladins’ famed ‘barracks’—more of a silver-and-gold adorned manor and garden complex than a bastion of pure ascetic military discipline, as you have heard it spoken of—but instead goes to a little hole-in-the-wall diner. You hesitate for a moment, a bit worried about getting into close quarters in such a small restaurant; you recall what Siz-Gamid and Felman told you, of the Paladin’s uncanny ability to identify a demon in disguise. Still… Your demon is buried more than skin-deep, and you have a charm to further hide her from scrutiny.

‘I’m with you, Lispy,’ Irinnile assures you, though she is unable to hide the tremor of terror from her mental voice.

You enter, ordering a beer and a meat-pudding dish from the human woman who seems to be proprietress here. Sir Chase is with another man—a human male, broad and strong, grey-bearded but well-groomed and suspiciously stalwart-looking. You suspect another Paladin. Your ear is trained enough that, in such close quarters, even their whispering cannot fully obscure their conversation from your careful attentions. Both of them look up briefly when you enter, and you THINK you see Sir Chase’s eyebrows lift in recognition or realization…

But then he simply flashes a charming smile—well, a smile you imagine many others with more pedestrian taste might find charming, but you’re more into bookworms than blustering meatheads. He winks, you make a show of looking away in flustered embarrassment, and he returns to his conversation. You find a table nearby (but not too near!) and, sipping beverage and awaiting entrée, you return to your observations.

“…Up all night… Losing face with… Nothing to show for it… bags under your eyes.”

You can only catch every few words with any clarity, but the older male seems to be admonishing chase gently for his pursuits.

“…Easier with a gryphon… Suspicious that the mages… Don’t know what they’re doing… Show them, and the King too if it comes to it!”
>>
>>5167941
The last declaration is hardly whispered, and draws eyes from the few other patrons. The older male hushes his fiery young companion, and beckons him closer. You try not to lean in—you don’t want to be obvious—but without doing so they are harder to understand than before. Whatever the old one tells the young one, it seems to brighten Chase’s spirits. He grins, reaching across the table to give his elder a friendly punch in the shoulder.

“Tonight,” you hear the old one whisper.

“A drink for this man!” he bellows. “He may have just saved the city from demonic menaces!”

The old male just looks embarrassed, but he accepts the beverage and the two seem to turn to less clandestine topics for a time as they enjoy their warm ales. You eat your own meal—you can’t afford to waste coin or an opportunity to eat, being as busy and short of funds as you have been lately. Eventually, they stand to leave, apparently headed somewhere together.

What do you do?
>Follow the Paladins wherever they are going, stealthily
>You do not wish to test your luck further—you have tagged him with the glasses, and can find Chase later if need be
>Set Felman upon them, to follow and intervene if they take any action which endangers the demons or your other assets
>Approach the Paladins openly, and flirt with Sir Chase while you ask what exactly his bold declaration meant
>Write-in
>>
>>5167942
>Approach the Paladins openly, and flirt with Sir Chase while you ask what exactly his bold declaration meant
>>
>>5167942
>Follow the Paladins wherever they are going, stealthily
>>
>>5167942
>You do not wish to test your luck further—you have tagged him with the glasses, and can find Chase later if need be

Track them tonight, but for now they're probably just preparing
>>
>>5167942
>>Approach the Paladins openly, and flirt with Sir Chase while you ask what exactly his bold declaration meant
>>
File: vladimir-djekic-aaa1.jpg (501 KB, 1076x1510)
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Rolled 5, 4, 1, 4 = 14 (4d20)

>>5168480
>>5168158
>>5168004
>>5167968

Since you aren’t wearing YOUR face, you decide there’s no harm in taking a chance. Besides, what are you if not a charmer, and what is a skirt-chaser like Sir Chase if not easily-charmed? You quickly wolf down what remains of your meal and follow the two men outside.

“Sirs!” you call to them. “Sirs, wait!”

The older one looks over his shoulder at you with a difficult-to-read expression—you think it might be annoyance, though Irinnile has another, more paranoid explanation for his steely-eyed half-glare. Chase, though, is all smiles as soon as he recognizes you.

“Ah, the fetching young maiden with whom I locked eyes!” he says. “A pleasure to make your acquaintance more… Closely.”

“The pleasssure is all mine,” you reply, even deigning to curtsy; this widens the younger man’s grin.

“And to what do we both owe such pleasure?” he asks.

“What did you mean about ssaving the ccity?”

Sir Chase blinks a couple times, then laughs. It is an artificial sound, boisterous to cover up for a nervousness.

“You were right, Sir Innis,” he says, looking to his companion. “I WAS a little too loud.”

The other man just gruffly harrumphs, not taking his eyes off of you. Irinnile withers away to the depths of you, hiding behind your demon-disguising charm and afraid to even THINK of moving or acting.

“Miss,” Sir Chase says, taking to you as if to a hatchling—or, well, a little girl, you suppose, “we of the Order of Paladins of Hawksong save this city more times before breakfast than all the tales of our valor you hear about in the press and around the taverns… Just in smaller ways, sometimes.”

“The tiring work musst exxxplain the bagss under your eyess,” you say, without thinking.

Innes flinches back, struck square in his pride. You smile and tilt your head, telling him: “Only joking. I’m ever ssso grateful to be able to thank one of you mossst noble heroesss in perssson.”

“Um, well… Thank you, Miss…?”

“What daring-do are you off to do now?” you ask, changing the subject while you think of a pseudonym.

“Well,” Sir Chase says, looking this way and that before leaning in closer, “but we’re—”
>>
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>>5168644

>1

“Girl,” the older man—Innes, you suppose—interrupts, laying a silencing hand upon his youthful companion’s shoulder, “your skin-tone, your accent… Where are you from?”

You hesitate, then simply answer “An outlying provinccce, to the—”

“To the south?” Innes interrupts.

You resist the urge to take a step back.

“Eassst, actually.”

“You know,” Sir Chase muses, squinting a little, “I think I’ve heard that one before. I can’t seem to place where, though.”

“Perhaps your ‘new friend’ would like to walk with us while you chat,” Sir Innes suggests. “We have places to be and things to do?”

“You would let a ‘girl’ like me accompany men as important asss you?” you ask, giggling to hide nervousness; you sense a trap, and Irinnile is practically clawing at the inside of your skin to escape.

“Obviously not,” he scoffs, “but until we return to our barracks, you can spare me having to listen to Sir Chase prattle on.”

“Hm?” Sir Chase asks, before registering the insult. “Hey! There’s no need for that, Sir Innes. I…”

He looks back to you now, as if reconsidering. You wonder if he is in on this possible trap, or if perhaps you are overthinking things. You can’t easily sense the emotional state of these Paladins, let alone their inner thoughts, but the gleam in his eye and the nature of his smile certainly SEEMS ‘innocent’ in its lechery.

“Well, I could certainly sue some less grumpy… More PLEASUREABLE company…” he says, grinning and offering you a hand.

What do you do?
>Accompany the Paladins—there’s not need to get paranoid
>Heed the fear within—make an excuse to leave
>Make a scene—accuse Innes of discrimination and profiling
>Strike while their guard is down—slay chase with a demon-claw!
>FLEE! Look at that killing intent in Innes' eyes--FLEE, before they make their move!
>Write-in
>>
>>5168645
>Accompany the Paladins—there’s not need to get paranoid

Well, that was a stunning and abysmal failure. Just goes to show how fickle the Dice Gods can be. I'm gonna take a risk against my better judgement, just to get a pulse on what the hell they're planning on doing.
>>
>>5168645
>Accompany the Paladins—there’s not need to get paranoid
eh fuck it. we still have the means to get away if things goes to complete shit.
>>
>>5168645
>Heed the fear within—make an excuse to leave
>>
>>5168645
>Accompany the Paladins—there’s not need to get paranoid
oh no we must now kill them, first them, then incubus, then irinnile!
>>
>>5168978
>>5168975
>>5168877
>>5168680

You tamp down the terror, dismissing the sensation of dire danger as just Irinnile’s emotions seeping into your own and colouring your perception. Besides, if worse comes to worst, you can evade or eviscerate these foolish human knights, whatever weakling God of Light they purport to serve. You take Chase’s hand in yours, matching his smile and fluttering your eyelashes, and you allow him to lead you after his companion, Innes.

The two males lead you up-town, as well they might, towards the towering walls and sprawling manor of the palace complex. It’s the closest you’ve gotten to Hawksong’s seat of regal power and governance, and you feel the assassin’s hunger within you as you draw closer… But, alas, they take a turn away from it.

“The barracks isn’t IN the palatial estates, of course,” Sir Chase laughs at your disappointment, taking it for that of an ingenue hoping to spy someone famous on the parapets. “Imagine all the gryphon sh—leavings!”

You chuckle at his joke and his minced oath, which Sir Chase seems to appreciate. Sir Innes, though, remains deathly silent, as he has for much of the journey while Chase prattled on endlessly. It seems as if he only interjects to change the topic or admonish his younger colleague whenever Chase threatens to say something sensitive about the matter of the Gala attack or his current activities.

By early afternoon, the three of you are within sight of a rather sprawling complex—something less palatial than a true palace, you suppose, but grander than any estate you have yet attended, with great statues of gryphons and an ornately-wrought, silvery gate twisted all around it and rising to high, spear-like spikes to prevent climbing and intrusion. Your companions, though, do not head straight for the front gate, but rather take a side-street.

Your confusion must show, for Chase taps the side of his nose and explains, saying “Too many fans and admirers gather at the front to take that entrance. We have another way in, outside of ceremonies.”

“Chase…” Innes interjects, warningly.

“Fear not, Sir Innes, I’ll say no more!” Chase says dramatically, falling back a step behind you as if to ward way his senior operative’s wrath.

“No,” Innes says, drawing a steadying breath, “I suppose not.”

“After all,” Chase says with a chuckle, “our journey is at an end, isn’t it… Occultist?”
>>
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>>5169145
You freeze for half a second, and then instinct and Irinnile move you. With uncanny speed, you duck down, reaching for your dagger; in the process, you just narrowly dodge a gauntleted blow by Sir Chase, though you cannot tell if it was intended as a sucker-punch or a grapple. He curses, though perhaps not as much as you do internally, for only now to you realize how narrow this side-street is, how bereft of witnesses. You understand that Sir Chase fell back not in deference to his agitated superior, but to cut off your escape. You are close enough to the Paladins’ complex that your adversaries could reasonably call in reinforcements before you could escape the area, and there is no easy escape that doesn’t involve battling at least one Paladin.

You’re trapped, after all.

You begin to rise from your crouch, eyes darting between young knight and old. Sir Chase is armoured, armed with a sword—now drawn, shining eerily with some uncanny property you can’t identify. Sir Innes is wearing only a quilted vestment, and seems to have no armament upon him… but even now, he is standing like a barricade, with a confidence that makes you uneasy.

“Great father of peace, Moroth on High, lend me your shield, that I might find shelter…” Sir Innes begins, like an incantation.

“…Great father of law, Moroth on High, lend me your sword,” Sir Chase continues from the other side of you, “that I might grant shelter to others.”

Your and finds your dagger. Your heart hammers in your chest. Your succubus is screaming a streak of colourful profanity.

What do you do?
>Attack Chase—he’s less experienced, less intimidating—and make your escape back the way you came
>Attack Innes—he’s unarmed, unarmoured, older—and make your escape into unknown territory
>Attempt to use illusion and glamour to distract them, and Irinnile’s abilities to claw your way up the nearest wall onto the roof… Though it will mean turning your back to them
>Try to talk your way out of this
>Take them both on, for your bloodlust rages, and you fear no silly surface-apes or sky-gods!
>Write-in
>>
>>5169146
>Attempt to use illusion and glamour to distract them
>Take them both on, for your bloodlust rages, and you fear no silly surface-apes or sky-gods!

>>5168680
*slow clap*
Wooow. You were right, I was just being paranoid...
>>
>>5169146
>Try to talk your way out of this
>Attempt to use illusion and glamour to distract them
If talking fails to get us out of this
>Attack Chase—he’s less experienced, less intimidating—and make your escape back the way you came
I just want a way out open to us just in case we decide to cut and run. But we do have one ectoplasmic charge left, should the talking and glamour succeed.

>>5169235
To be fair, this was also against my better judgment. I simply figure from Chase's comment on us repeating a phrase with him before that a clash was inevitable.
>>
>>5169146
>Attack Innes—he’s unarmed, unarmoured, older—and make your escape into unknown territory

We know Chase was kicking Siz's ass so he's no pushover.
>>
>>5169146
>Attack Chase—he’s less experienced, less intimidating—and make your escape back the way you came
>>
File: cool-rainbow-illusion.jpg (101 KB, 560x420)
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Rolled 16, 5, 13, 17, 15, 5, 17, 6, 8, 16 = 118 (10d20)

>>5169235
>>5169405
>>5169410
>>5169612
>Attack Chase—he’s less experienced, less intimidating—and make your escape back the way you came

“Maybe we should jussst calm down,” you say, in a voice as even as you can manage.

“So you’ll stop reaching for your weapon and surrender, then?” Sir Innes asks.

“Yesss,” you volunteer, beginning to stand. “In fact, I’ll tell you everything I know…”

>Attempt to use illusion and glamour to distract them

“…As I ssstand asstride your corpsssess, foolsss!”

You lash out with a streamer of coloured, flashing light, exploding forth into the eyes of both assailants in a wide and spectacular arc!
>>
>>5169741
>17, 16

Chase cries out and shields his eyes, while his older ally simply closes them and falls back, raising his arms to protect himself. In the confusion, you draw your blade, licking your lips as your eyes flit between the two humans. Chase is better armed, but his reaction gives away inexperience…

>17

Inexperience which you can exploit! You slip easily into the gap in his stance, too close for him to stab or slash at you even if he could see.

“How isss thisss for pleassurable company?” you whisper, plunging your frost dagger into a gap in his armour.

He gasps as the icy-hot pain shoots through him. When you push your shoulder into him, he crumples and is bowled over easily. You take pains to tread upon his face—and HARD—as you exit the alleyway; you feel his nose give way under your heel, and relish in it with an unsavory glee. You aren’t sure if the wound you inflicted was fatal—probably not, if they can get him a healing potion fast enough—but he’ll remember it. For now, it is all the cover you need for a swift escape

>8
Chase is practically whimpering, bravado broken by the barrage of pain. Still, he does not pelad or beg—he swears vengeance.

“I’ll get you, you demonic BITCH!” he howls.

>16
You hear footsteps behind you as you flee the scene… But they draw short, for Innes chooses to tend to his fallen brother-in-arms rather than pursue you as his first priority. It is a foolish move motivated by mammalian weakness, but you mentally thank him for it.

Less so when you hear him calling for reinfrocements.

‘ShiiiiIIIIT’ Irinnile wails. ‘We need to get the FUCK outta’ here, hotstuff!’

‘Shift my face,’ you command, ‘NOW!’

‘Y-yeah, okay, okay, but… The cloak, babe! It’s, uh, it’s pretty distinctive!’

…And too magical to just abandon, you suppose. At least, you’d RATHER not. Damnit.

Where do you retreat to?
>The Pretty Kitty—it’s all the way across town, but it should be easy to lose them well before you arrive
>Albacete’s home—she’s closer, has changes of clothes, and (of course) si a Reptilian and thus more reliable
>Edwin’s home—he may be upset with you, but he won’t let you just be captured, and he’s even closer
>Goblintown—nobody can find ANYBODY in Goblintown, and you have a network ready to squirrel you away
>Ditch the (admittedly lovely) enchanted cloak and just shift into a very different form, then lay low where you are while your pursuers chase shadows
>Write-in
>>
>>5169755
>Goblintown—nobody can find ANYBODY in Goblintown, and you have a network ready to squirrel you away
>>
>>5169755
>>Edwin’s home—he may be upset with you, but he won’t let you just be captured, and he’s even closer
Being a damsel in distress worked last time.
>>
>>5169755
> Goblintown—nobody can find ANYBODY in Goblintown, and you have a network ready to squirrel you away
>>
>>5169755
>Edwin’s home—he may be upset with you, but he won’t let you just be captured, and he’s even closer
>>
>>5169755
> Goblintown—nobody can find ANYBODY in Goblintown, and you have a network ready to squirrel you away
>>
>>5169775
>>5169777
>>5169790
>>5170035
>>5170055
>>5169775
>>5169777
>>5169790
>>5170035
>>5170055
You consider Edwin of Engel. The safety and security of his home—his arms—is a powerful draw. Being the damsel-in-distress worked once… Could it earn his love anew, your hasty appearance and desperate circumstances appealing to his protective instinct?

But what if he rejects you? More than even the possibility of wasting time, of being caught…

<Heartbreak: 87%>

No, you can’t do it. Instead, you will Irinnile to shift your shape into something a little huskier and a little tuskier. Your skin shifts shades towards a more greenish hue. By the time you have traversed all the way to Goblintown’s entrance, you are once more in the guise of the half-orc occultist Zithra.

The human guards at the Goblintown gateway hassle you more than necessary, questioning how ‘someone like you’ came to be in possession of such a nice cloak. It takes but a little glamour to bypass their predations, though, and you do so readily—you can waste no time with their petty inert-mammalian racial jockeying, with Paladins breathing down your neck. You have heard no commotion in your immediate wake as you traversed the city streets and back-alleys, but you don’t wish to take any chances.

‘Might wanna’ wipe their minds?’ Irinnile suggstes anxiously. ‘If they remember the cloak, an’ the Paladins come askin’…’

It would take additional time, and it might be time (and energy) wasted. Would the Paladins think to look for you here? Would these dimwitted guardsmen recall such a detail? It’s already mid-afternoon…

Do you take the time and effort to better brainwash the guards?
>Yes
>No
>>
>>5170257
Once you are past the guardsmen, you immediately go about seeking sanctuary with the friendliest face you know in this part of Hawksong’s greater metropolitan area… Not that that’s saying much, considering the natural resting-goblin-face that seems to dominate this ghetto. You make a brisk jaunt to one of the many half-hidden entrances to the basement-level communal dwelling of Zi the—

‘—the Onahole,’ Irinnile finishes, eagerly.

—the Goblin.

‘What even IS an onahole?’ you ask, while you wait at the door, having knocked in the distinctive coded pattern your ne’er-do-well goblin gal-pal taught you.

‘Oh man, Lispy, YOU gotta’ get out East sometime!’

Before the succubus can explain further, a weary and groggy-looking goblin opens the door, rubbing his eyes and scowling.

“The crap do you want?” he asks. “You even know what time it is? What, hit your head on too many doorframes, you big-‘n-tall bi—”

The goblin blinks a couple times, recognizing you at east, directly or by reputation and inference. He scowls, but ceases his tirade, instead turning around and slamming the door shut. You hear him shout for “YEN-ZI” because “YOUR CREEPY, LISPY GIRLFRIEND IS HERE.” It isn’t much longer after that when an even-more-dishevelled-than-usual Zi opens the door, looking about as sleepy as the doorman. She is wearing a strange little cap and has a roughshod pair what almost look like goggles made of a tarp material on her forehead.

“Zithra?” she says. “What’re you doing here? I didn’t think… It’s just sooner than I thought.”

“What are you wearing?” you ask, unable to help yourself.

Zi’s face turns faintly golden-brown around the cheeks with her distinctive blush, and she scrambles to remove the cap and ‘goggles’.

“It’s… Goblins are sort’ve nocturnal, kind of, but we usually live way deeper than this. It’s a thing for shielding my eyes so I can sleep.”

“And the hat?” you ask.

“…From my mum,” she mutters, looking away and blushing hard enough to turn red sepsite the green of her skin. “Anyway, what do you w—I mean, what’s the situation?”

‘Fuckin’ CUTE,’ irinnile squeals.

What do you say?
>You’re here to take her up on that date
>You’re in trouble with the Paladins, and need somewhere to lay low
>You need Zi’s help tracking down some more demons
>You need her to hang onto a cloak for you for a while
>Write-in
>>
>>5170257
>Yes
>>5170260
>You’re in trouble, and need somewhere to lay low
>You have a powerful magical cloak to sell, that you don't want linked back to you. Might or might not have come from the Tower.

>>5170035
Guards seeing the cloak would be another thing I would've made sure doesn't happen, if I gave a shit at this point.
>>
>>5170260
>You’re in trouble with the Paladins, and need somewhere to lay low

>You need her to hang onto a cloak for you for a while
>>
>>5170257
>Yes

>>5170260
>You’re here to take her up on that date
>You’re in trouble with the Paladins, and need somewhere to lay low

>>5170272
It also wouldn't have been an issue if we didn't go to Goblintown, where the guards are permanently posted. So how long are we staying low here, and do you think we delayed the paladin's plans for a couple days?
>>
>>5170260
>You’re in trouble with the Paladins, and need somewhere to lay low
>>You need her to hang onto a cloak for you for a while
>>
>>5170498
Guards are not an issue, whole situation could've been easily avoided and Goblintown makes sense given the circumstances, unlike going back to Edwiiiin JUST BECAUSE YOU WANT TO SALVAGE THE ROMANCE.
>So how long are we staying low here, and do you think we delayed the paladin's plans for a couple days?
Don't care. I'm just voting.
>>
>>5170260
Let me add
>You need her to hang onto a cloak for you for a while
just to prevent selling our enchanted cloak. Only the Paladins can identify it, and it'll be useful if we need to physically deal with the Archmage.

>>5170513
Yea, it could've been easily avoided. But this does have the benefit of confirming the Southern Demonologist angle in the Paladins' minds, if you're looking for a silver lining. Not a great situation, but nothing really linking back to us directly either (other than the cloak).
>>
Rolled 1, 8, 11, 12, 16 = 48 (5d20)

>>5170272
>>5170331
>>5170498
>>5170500
>>5170863

“I need you to hang onto thiss cloak for a while,” you say, beginning to undo the small, snowflake-shaped clasp on the original capelet.

Zi stares for a moment, as if uncomprehending, and automatically accepts the cloak as you hand it to her. Only then, looking down at it and back up at you, does she narrow her eyes in suspicion.

“What’s wrong with it?” she asks. “Is it cursed? Seriously, what?”

“Nothing like that,” you reassure her, and you see the tension that entered her body begin to leave it… Until you explain the next part.

“THE PALADINS?” she shouts, dropping the cloak as if it were aflame.

“Lower your voice,” you hiss, shushing her.

Zi stares for a while, and both of you look about, grateful for the crepuscular habits of goblins and orcs. Her next words are hushed, but no less angry and confused.

“What are you THINKING bringing heat like that down on me?!” she demands, gathering up the cloak in a big, messy bundle and trying to jam into back into your hands. You gently push it back, and she flails in frustration. “Inquisitors were bad ENOUGH, but royal godbothering holy MOTEHRFUCKING—”

You press a finger to your lips, for her volume has begun to rise anew.

“—Paladins?!” she whispers.

“I promissse,” you say, “they have no idea I’m here, they didn’t follow me, and apart from THAT cloak, they have no lead on me.”

Zi looks down at the cloak, then back up at you.

“Burn it,” she says.

“Fireproof,” you reply with a crooked smile.

“Wrap some rocks in it and dump it in the harbour!” she exclaims, as quiet as she can manage.

“I like it,” you say. “It wass a gift.”

“LIFE is a gift,” the goblin counters. “Don’t waste yours, or mine, over a hoodie.”

“It’s valuable,” you say.

“THEN FENCE IT!” she cries.

“Please?” you ask.

The goblin-girl hesitates.
>>
>>5170995
>16 for seduction/politesse

Zi flushes a little bit, noticing the way you are leaned against the doorframe, the intensity wit which you are looking into her eyes. She looks away, gripping the cloak tightly in his slightly-oversized green hands with their grimy nails.

“F-fine,” she mutters.

“I need ssomewhere to lay low, too,”you say with an embarrassed smile. “Can you help?”

“Asking a lot of favours for free,” she grumbles.

‘I can’t go on that date if I’m dead,” you point out.

The goblin sighs.

“I know a place,” she says. “They’ll want you to earn your keep—or me, but it’s GOING to be you ‘cause I’m already up to my ass in alligators and you owe me one!—but they’ll hide you. This procurator, a hobbo gal name of Navrere. Just DON’T mention any Paladin shit, or she’ll sell you piecemeal to every two-bit lawman who offers a coin for… Whatever bounty you’ve got on you.”

A bounty? You hope not… But you also suppose it won’t be YOUR face on the poster, nor that of ‘Zithra’.

“Underssstood,” you say. “And…”
>“Thank you so much”, and kiss her, promising again to make good on that date and meaning it [+affection]
>“Don’t say a word about this to anyone, or you’re as good as dead.” [-affection]
>”I promise there’s some coin in for you if you keep quiet.”
>Write-in


How many days do you plan to lay low in Goblintown?
>Just until evening—then, you have to get to The Pretty Kitty for work
>Just until night—then, you have demons to track down, and you want to be out of town by morning if possible
>Until morning—you suspect the law will be out in force tonight, seeking demons, occultists, or even Reptilians
> A few days—let the Inquisitors and Paladins tucker themselves out
>Write-in
>>
>>5171004
>”I promise there’s some coin in for you if you keep quiet.”

Like, 1 rusty copper coin

>Just until evening—then, you have to get to The Pretty Kitty for work
Kamumu being absent would be sus
>>
>>5171034
Dont you listen to the Beatles? Money won't buy John Lennon love. Or McCartney, whichever one sang that song.

>>5171004
>Writey-titey
Light thank you (no kiss), further inquire about anything else she knows about Paladins, Navrere/Goblintown and Bounties (both on your head, and other notable bounties and tidbits of info).
>Evening
>>
>>5171004
>>“Don’t say a word about this to anyone, or you’re as good as dead.” [-affection]
>>”I promise there’s some coin in for you if you keep quiet.”

>Just until evening—then, you have to get to The Pretty Kitty for work
>>
>>5171004
>“Thank you so much”, and kiss her, promising again to make good on that date and meaning it [+affection]
We ain't got money.
>Just until night—then, you have demons to track down, and you want to be out of town by morning if possible
Maybe shapeshift is into a Hawksong native without a lisp this time?
>>
>>5171004
>“Thank you so much”, and kiss her, promising again to make good on that date and meaning it [+affection]
>Just until night—then, you have demons to track down, and you want to be out of town by morning if possible
>>
>>5171034
>>5171139
>>5171249
>>5171298
>>5171350

“Thank you, Zi. Really.”

“Yeah yeah, whatever you—MMF!”

You interrupt the goblin by lifting her into an embrace and a kiss. When you set her back down, she is stammering.

“D-don't just interrupt me like that!” she eventually manages to snap at you. “But… If you want to thank me, maybe we could go to that place I mentioned?”

“When all thiss iss calmed down,” you say, but you're not sure when they will be, or whether you really mean it. It DOES sound nice…

“For now, keep thisss all between uss, keep that cloak ready for me, and there’ss ssome coin in it for you.”

But you have other, higher priorities.

The mention of coin spurs Zi into action in a way even your personal magnetism does not. The goblin disappears into her family’s warren—are they a family? a gang, maybe?—and emerges in the ragged attire and short cloak which ate more familiar to you.

“Alright,” she says, composed once more. “Come on, we’re burning daylight!”

You follow Zi to a small tent erected on the far side of Goblintown, where the shanty-town gives way to a space between woodland and road. The stench lets you know well before you arrive that this is where the denizens of this dingy neighbourhood have taken to dumping waste and refuse. It’s also where a series of small tents have been erected.

“Navrere,” Zi supplies by way of explanation. “Not everything she ‘procures’ is legal, so she stays inconspicuous-like, and stays mobile.”

“What isss she like?” you ask.

As it turns out Navrere is (as one might expect in Goblintown) a colourful character. She is of almost-human skintone—almost an ashen equivalent of the local variant—but with the characteristic sharp peg teeth and gleaming animal eyes of a goblinoid, and slightly too-long limbs and overdeveloped ears. She is also LOUD, which you’d think might be a liability for a ‘procurator’ of sometimes-illegal goods, trying to avoid attention.
>>
>>5171500
“MOVE YOUR ASS!” she shouts at one scampering goblin as you approach, booting him in the rear. “Sort that cart and get it OUT OF HERE and back to roadside before it gets connected to us!”

There is a small cacophony of such cowed goblins—male, female, young, old—serving as grunts for this bellowing, middle-aged hobgoblin female who stands before you in mismatched-but-quality attire, hands on hips.

“Zi,” she acknowledges the goblin, then looks to you. “What do you want?!”

“This half-orc’s looking for an honest day’s work,” Zi supplies on your behalf.

“HA!” Navrere barks. “Can’t do the ‘honest’ but, but can out her to work. Why me?”

“Some trouble with the guards,” Zi says. “Bar fight with a humie.”

Both goblin and hobgoblin spit.

“Can you lift and carry shit?” Navrere asks you. “Sort it?”

“Yesss,” you say.

“Well then, GET STARTED! That pile of farm tools ands shit—move it, sort it, make sure anything useful for a city-human is separated out into, uh THAT pil, in the cart. Dump the rest—ain’t nobody buying plows around here! MOVE IT!”

You glance at Zi, who just shrugs as if to say ‘What else do you expect on short notice?’ You suppose this is fair enough, and so you go to work, sorting through goods that have fallen off of carts or been spirited away from the city, finding those items which will reasonably resell and throwing the rest into the refuse pile or onto carts to be dumped on roadside.

“NO BREAKS,” Navrere bellows as Zi departs. “You get tired, you move to light duty but you KEEP MOVING. You close to passing out? MESS TENT, far back!”

It is surprisingly arduous work, and you lack a true orcish musculature, so you try to take up the lightest duty possible, and to avoid the hobgoblin taskmaster’s watchful eyes. Among the goblins and the few orcs working alongside, you find little in the way of conversation—but some of what you overhear is of interest.

“…This shit looks foreign, too.”

“Came out of Hawksong alright. Another cart of the dark humans leaving town. Whole family of them.”

“Another? I thought those foreign humans were all coming TO Hawksong?”

“All leaving now, I guess. Must have got caught in a scam or something.”

“Ha! More opportunity for you and me, then…”

“Don’t count on it… Humies is on watch now. Scared and jumpy.”

It seems your activities, and framing of ‘Southern Demonists’, has been having an effect noticeable even to these outsiders. You mull over this as you work through the afternoon.
>>
>>5171503
Eventually, it grows to be a little too much for you, and you excuse yourself to the mess tent for some food, drink and rest. There, a young but white-haired hobgoblin female in a cloth face-mask doles out hardtack and almost-raw, half-spoiled meat, to accompany a mug of weak, brackish beer. She checks each attending worker’s vitals with a professionalism that catches your attention almost as much as her rather full figure.

‘You mean those hips you could birth an army through?’ Irinnile teases. ‘And DAT ASS, amirite? Hey, you told Mina we’re recruiting exotics, right? An’ we’re headed back to TPK this evening anyway…’

You give this hobgoblin ‘nurse’ an appraisal as she looks you over for signs of fatigue. Her face is stern—what you can see of it—but also relatively human, and not bad by any means.

‘Tig ol’ bitties, too,’ Irinnile notes hungrily.

You WERE planning to sneak off, to return to The Pretty Kitty as Kamunu tonight so as to avoid drawing suspicion to that identity. You sure as hell have no plans to stay HERE tonight, so you’ll have to slip away soon. You can only hope the Paladins have given up hunting for their cloaked occultist assailant by now.

“You don’t seem too fatigued to work,” the nurse admonishes, then sighs. “Just here to get away from my cousin’s bellowing like the rest of them, huh?”

Do you attempt to recruit the attractive hobgoblin nurse to work for Mina at The Pretty Kitty?
>Yes
>No
>No, but ply her for info [about what?]
>No, but seduce her anyway
>Write-in

[Ending this thread here, by the way. We’ll return most likely on Monday, as I’m having a friend over for the weekend. As ever, I appreciate any input you wish to provide, be it things you liked and want to se more of , or criticism. I suspect we have one, MAYBE two more threads left in this quest, so keep in mind that we probably won’t be seeing any HUGE additions as far as new plotlines go.

Have a great weekend, all!]
>>
>>5171504
>>Yes
>+Ply for info (on Navrere, on stories around Goblintown)
>>
>>5171504
>Yes

Have fun, RQM!
>>
>>5171508
>info on Navrere, on stories around Goblintown

Anything in particular you wanted to know? I couldn't find a way to work that organically into the last post without dragging it out way too long, but I'm happy to do a small lore-dump
>>
>>5171561
If it's going to be extraneous/just for extra flavor, don't sweat it, just trying to coax some ideas. Enjoy your weekend, pal.
>>
>>5171504
>Yes, and seduce her anyway

Have a great weekend RQM!
>>
>>5171504
>No
don't mix the kamumu and zithra
>>
>>5171504
>>No
Why expose one of our covers for some coom?
>>
>>5171504
>No
>but ply her for info [about what?]
Goblintown secret passages/shortcuts (if they exist)
>>
>>5172145
>>5172155
Right. Glad you anons keep this shit from falling apart.

>>5171504
Changing my vote (>>5171554) to:
>No

>>5172768
We can get that kind of information from Zi with 0 risk of getting lied to or made. She pretty much said this bitch will sell us out.
>>
>>5172145
>>5172155
I don't think it's that serious of an issue compared to the shit we're in with Paladins, but I'm willing to change my vote to soothe y'all paranoia.

>>5171504
You can consider >>5172059 changed to
>No, but seduce her anyway
just to keep our WANT low. If we ever do meet her as Kamunu though, I'd be more than willing to try to recruit her then.
>>
>>5172996
>I don't think
That's the problem, yeah.
>>
>>5173000
That was uncalled for, and you know it.

>>5171504
I rescind my vote change >>5172996, I think she'll make for a fantastic nurse at TPK.
>>
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>>5173010
It was very well deserved and on point. As soon as one of your "romantic-mind distracshuns" appears, you lose all desire to stick to the mission and then try to pretend to be all logical JUST to defend your own motive. You call me "paranoid" all the while you can't put 2 and 2 together to avoid getting Ismena caught up in her lies. You keep saying I want to kill everyone well after I have stopped trying to send Incubus back in the void, because he is no longer an unknown threat looming over us. And I don't worry about permathralls after more or less understanding the degree to which we can depend on RQM's NPC allies.
That's all I got from our interactions in the past threads and I don't plan on trying to reason with you anymore.
Hell, I got so fed up with this, that I barely pay attention now (hence wanting to recruit goblin without thinking) and only vote to bump the quest. I just can't give a shit.

Oh, and this last-time vote change on a whim just proves you don't give a fuck about what Ismena's actions will lead to. Unless you know your vote likely won't matter and can afford to change it back just out of spite.
>>
>>5171504
>Yes

A snacc and some extra help for Mina? I down for that.
>>
>>5173021
First off, I changed my original vote out of solidarity with you oldfags, not because you convinced me that one goblin under our regular watch will somehow bring down our whole operation though an 'acquaintance' of Ismena. The fact that you didn't realize that and continue to attack my character over it just shows the contempt you hold me in.

Secondly, I have been quite focused on our missions, but at some point we have to rest and relax a bit. Just because you want Ismena to be an hyper-focused anti-social autist doesn't mean I have that same desire, and I often find that relationships we create to be just as interesting as our mission and the setting. It isn't a crime to want more than just the next goalpost.

Thirdly, I tried to be just as reasonable to you, and I tried to accommodate you as much as I reasonably could. Is it really my fault that we have two totally different mindsets in how we envision Ismena accomplishing her task?

I'm gonna pass out now, but I'm gonna leave you off on a happy note. In a couple of days, I'm going to be traveling with family for the next couple of weeks, and I probably won't be here much, though I'll try. I know reading that probably perked you up, and I fully expect when I come back proper, I won't be enthused by whatever transpired. I do hope that you'll become more engaged, and I do wish Ismena and the quest the best, whatever comes to pass.

Night y'all.
>>
>>5173021
[I'm sorry to hear that you're not feeling engaged in voting, but glad that you're at least (if I'm understanding correctly) enjoying reading along anyway. Is there anything I can aside from controlling vote outcomes do to help with engagement for you for our final chapter or two?]

>>5173035
[Have a good trip! I hope you return, too, even if there are a few votes which go in a direction you weren't planning on. I'm glad you're enjoying the character dynamics! I actually worry a lot of my characters end up reading very same-y. I've been putting in some concerted effort to differentiate Manuela, Irinnile, and Zi, for instance, who I felt had similar 'voices'. As someone who prefers that aspect of the quest, have I been doing okay? Anything more you'd like to see?]

>>5171508
>>5171554
>>5172059
>>5172145
>>5172155
>>5172768
>>5172984
>>5172996
>>5173010
>>5173025

[If I'm understanding this vote change kerfuffle, we have 3 for Yes and 4 for No (some with caveats). Is that right?]
>>
>>5173080
You seem to be right, yeah. Sorry for bullying the foxanon, RQM. Hope it doesn't put you off too much.

>>5171508 Y + ply
>>5171554 >>5172984 N
>>5172059 >>5172996 >>5173010 Y + seduce
>>5172145 N
>>5172155 N
>>5172768 N + ply
>>5173025 Y
>>
>>5173080
I think you've been doing fine on the relationship front, the characters do feel distinct from one another. Besides more Edwin, I'd like to spend more time with the girls and Agatha, when we ain't under the gun with our mission, the Paladins, and our Tower subversion. Anything more than that is more based off our choices than yours, really, as far as how interaction with others go.

As for the votes, that looks to be about the just of it. While having a dedicated nurse for TPK would be useful, it isn't that big of an issue (for us, remember, we did release a sexual plague on the johns as well), but part of the reason was to just satisfy our WANT, I would prefer to keep it at around 14, and would love to fill it up to 10 or below, just to give us some breathing room if we're in a pinch. It being around 16 is a bit concerning with a busy night of demon wrangling and Paladin evading ahead of us.
>>
>>5173035
>First off, I changed my original vote out of solidarity with you oldfags.
...which proves me point!
>The fact that you didn't realize that and continue to attack my character
I did that because I got really fed up when you tried to "reason" with me when I tried pushing some arguably useless and potentially idiotic things for fun after you have tried pushing this kind of shit time and time again. When you said saving degenerate mook was nonsensical right after you said you'd like to save that whore we killed threads ago. At least I can see an explanation for Ismena wanting to free Chika, a fellow half-human agent who was unfortunate enough to land in this nightmarish shitshow. And there would be benefit to it. And we wouldn't have to explain it to anyone, unlike if you brought fucking Estelia back.
If there was one clear reason for Ismena to not do it, I would just accept the situation for what it is, you know.
>Secondly, I have been quite focused on our missions, but at some point we have to rest and relax a bit.
It's that part when despite sleep-deprivation, we frantically ran from task to task in a random order and slaughtered a syphilis-ridden hooker to put a bandaid a seething demon because you got paranoid about time and catching demons? Okay. It was not particularly effective.
>Is it really my fault that we have two totally different mindsets in how we envision Ismena accomplishing her task?
>>task
But you argue we should split our job between multiple people, but then don't want to use Yemrep and Irinnile on her own is bad too, for some reason...
You surely aren't paranoid that the succubus will betray us or be more incompetent than we are, do you?
>In a couple of days, I'm going to be traveling with family for the next couple of weeks, and I probably won't be here much, though I'll try.
Enjoy your travels, foxanon. Don't step on lizards
>I know reading that probably perked you up, and I fully expect when I come back proper, I won't be enthused by whatever transpired.
Your presence or lack thereof doesn't affect me nearly as much as you think it is. I only ever care when I have to deal with a back and forth over a thing that spans over multiple votes. I only have just read that!
>>
>>5173471
Don't be an asshat

>>5173035
Don't let one asshat anon ruin things for you. Have fun on your family vacation.
>>
People are ganging up and writing literal essays over Reptile Infiltrator lore and path choice, and here I am enjoying the drama, eating Doritos. Good show, Reptar.
>>
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>>5173544
Enjoy
>>
Rolled 3, 19, 9, 4 = 35 (4d20)

>>
>>5174463
>>5171508
>>5171554
>>5172059
>>5172145
>>5172155
>>5172768
>>5172984
>>5172996
>>5173010
>>5173025

“Ssomething like that,” you say. “Ssay…”

You are about to open your mouth, to recruit this curvaceous hobgoblin, when you think better of it. You are not Kamunu, not right now: you are Zithra. The entire purpose of this day of hard labour, and even this identity, was that Zithra is far removed from your other alias’ habits and haunts. If Zithra Half-Orc recruits this hobgoblin for Kamunu’s workplace, how separate shall they remain? And if a connection is made between Zithra and Kamunu, and between Zithra and Hawksong’s occult occurrences…

“Thiss operation’s pretty ssophisticated,” you say instead, “for Goblintown.”

“’Sophisticated’ isa pretty big word,” your ‘nurse’ replies without looking up, “for a half-orc.”

You chuckle, though maybe not for the reason she thinks.

“What’s your name?” you ask.

“Yandorse,” she replies.

“Yandorssse,” you say aloud. “A pretty name.”

Yandorse grimaces slightly. “Not something to aspire to, for a hobgoblin.”

“Sstill,” you say, “it sssuitss you.”

The two of you make conversation—about the hobgoblin, about yourself (though most of that is, naturally deceit and dodging questions), and about Navrere’s operation.

“I asssume all thiss issn’t being ssold in Goblintown,” you note. “And you aren’t taking it through the main gates.”

Yandorse smiles at the thought. “No, no we’re not.”

“Then how do you get your productss to market?” you ask. “A shortcut through the ssewersss?”

“Not since the humies started breathing down our neck over that half-orc and his occult operation,” she says, referring to The Incubus’ activities in the area… And the series of highly-publicized murders you committed in the sewer around that same time.

It was these event that led Goblintown to be scrutinized by the Inquisition at all, though you note you still haven’t seen any Paladin deign to sully their shining armour with a visit to this dirty burb.

“I ssee,” you say.

“Even before then, there were rumours about giant rats down there,” Yandrose says. “Maybe they were even true, I guess.”

“Then how?” you ask again.

>19

Yandorse hesitates, but leans forward. She whispers to you the secret of her cousin’s ‘salvage and resale’ operation: a human merchant who smuggles them in, sells them, and then brings the Navrere a (small, but reliable) cut of profits.

A part of you wonders if maybe this could provide a useful contact or opportunity someday…

But the sun is setting, and higher duties call. You say your farewell, and escape before Yandorse’s bellowing cousin and pressgang you into her operation.

Reflective goblin eyes catch the setting sun, but if any take note of your subtle exit, none of them say a thing.

[End Thread]
>>
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>>5174490
[New thread is go.]



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