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You are the second-born of the VON GUNDYR FAMILY. Your lineage is one of distinction, a noble line of both social and military excellence. You take great pride in your heritage. Your name, however, has fallen from grace in recent years–your older brother’s catastrophic string of military defeats led to a series of critical losses along the country’s northern border and the loss of key defensive territory years ago. Your legacy ruined, your image tarnished.

But you are not without hope. Just ten years ago, the abyssal CATACOMBS were found–an accursed monster laden dungeon, where a strange black MAGIC bound souls to bodies and let men resurrect, all the same as monsters. The king would decree that whomsoever could reach its bottom, slay the foul LICH, and return to the king would obtain an immense sum of MONEY and the titlehood of NOBILITY. In the decade since, none would claim victory.

But you are different. The sum insignificant and the title unnecessary, you instead yearn for the glory and recognition of the king and the reclamation of your family’s former honor.

>What is your name?

>>5192442
>Name
Giacomo

I recognize this style and I like it.

>>5192442

>Claude

>Alfonse
Which means noble, and i think Alphonse Von Gundyr has a cool and noble sound to it.

>>5192442
>>5192449
+1

>>5192442
>>5192450
This

>>5192442
Jeffson

>>5192442
Jerry

>>5192450
YEH

>>5192442
Guillermo.

>>5192464
>>5192493
I see there are those who still practice the old ways.

Jerry Jeffson Jr.

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>>5192501
>>5192493
>>5192464
>>5192463
>>5192455
>>5192450
>>5192449
>>5192447

>Alfonse

Your name is ALPHONSE VON GUNDYR, a 29 year old scion of the prestigious VON GUNDYR house.

You are a veteran of the king’s royal army, formally a dragoon with the LOCKSTEP CALVARY for eight loyal years. Your service was cut short near the close of the war by a grievous knee injury (that’s left you ken to walk with a slight limp ever since) and you were set on a train back home. But, not one to sit still, you set out to the CATACOMBS to reclaim your family’s old repute shortly after your return.

But, besides that, you admittedly have a secondary goal in mind for the CATACOMBS–you’re near your 30s now and still single, nary a kiss nor hug nor even affectionate letter to speak of. You’ve heard tell of fearsome and legendary mercenaries, soldiers, and adventurers from all over the country flocking to the catacombs–and among them, plenty of women to spare.

Yes, you, still single, have come to the CATACOMBS in part to find a WIFE.

It’s utilitarian, of course. Your duty as a noble son is to herald the future of your proud line. At your age, people start to whisper when you’re still single. And you’ve never had much luck with women. Your sisters claim that while your nobility, military service, and build may be attractive, your “oafish insensitivity” and “loutish manner” can offend some. And apparently they don’t find men who still read children’s action serials very attractive.

What twaddle. And unlike them, your collection of action serials will only grow in value as they age.

Nonetheless, you’re not one for the flowery, willowy types at noble social events–no, you yearn for a wife that’s a bit dangerous, and strong enough to handle your IMPRESSIVE LINEAGE. You’re certain that somewhere in the CATACOMBS is at least one one worthy of your name.

Your mind remains adrift in such fancy and fantasy as you walk down the steps of the stairway corridor, lower and lower, the entrance to the CATACOMBS just a slight, half-sunken in hole in a sheer cliff wall that hides a dungeon of such immensity that it’s yet to been fully plotted and charted in the decade since its discovery.

You arrive at the base of the stairs down to find a small, candle-lit room–a stone cold and dark welcome. The walls resemble columbariums, spacious features carved into the stone walls for bodies to be lain to rest. A door opens up to darkness up ahead, presumably the rest of the CATACOMBS. Just two await you down there–a rather wrinkly old hag and a slimy-looking merchant type.

>Speak to the doddering mendicant crone.
>Speak to the slug-like mercantile.
>Plunge into the depths without acknowledgement.
>Write-In.

>>5192526
>Speak to the doddering mendicant crone.

>>5192450
+ 1

>>5192526
>Speak to the doddering mendicant crone.

>>5192526
>Speak to the doddering mendicant crone.

>Speak to the doddering mendicant crone.

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>>5192529
>>5192540
>>5192544
>>5192565

>Speak to the doddering mendicant crone.

At a quiet, darkened corner of the room, far from the errant candles and wax, sits an old crone. She’s rather gnarled and small; so pathetic that you could’ve easily missed her had you been a little less attentive.

“You there. Hag.” You approach the hunched crone–each step leaves a fresh print in the ash and dust about the shrine.
“Ahhhh.. eheheh..” The witch quietly cackles in a shrill, crackly voice. “A new one, then, for the abyss. What’s it for this one? Is it the king's coffers? The lich’s head? No.. of course, it’s the cure for death..”

Bah. You hate talking to old people. Always weird riddles.

>Demand that she tell you about the CATACOMBS–you only have a cursory knowledge of it, after all.
>A cure for death? What does she mean by that?
>Attempt a little seduction. Just test your waters here. Not that you’d get with this hag.
>Write-In.

>>5192526
>Speak to the doddering mendicant crone.

>>5192603
>>Demand that she tell you about the CATACOMBS–you only have a cursory knowledge of it, after all.

>>5192603
>Demand that she tell you about the CATACOMBS–you only have a cursory knowledge of it, after all.

>>5192603
>Demand that she tell you about the CATACOMBS–you only have a cursory knowledge of it, after all.

>>5192603
>Attempt a little seduction. Just test your waters here. Not that you’d get with this hag.

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>>5192615
>>5192624
>>5192655

>Demand that she tell you about the CATACOMBS–you only have a cursory knowledge of it, after all.

“What can you tell me about the CATACOMBS?” You ask the hag, your eyes narrow. “And enough with the riddles, hag.”

“Hmm, hmm.. you’re not at all as charming..” The hag shakes her head after a long moment, her mouth open in a toothless grin. “But.. I can let you in on a secret. This hole–all of it, from these walls to its inhabitants to the traps–is the last remnant of a once powerful curse that grasped these lands. But these catacombs–this scar in the ground–is all that remains. And a lich has lain claim to it as her throne, and bound all that dare step within to true immortality..”

“Gah! Don’t listen to that old hag, friend. Nonsense, meaningless riddles and stories for all that dare waste time on her.” The slug-like merchant guffaws, leaning over to eavesdrop on your discussion. “Come, come now. You won’t get any good conversation out of that crone.”

>Move on. Speak to the slimy merchant.
>Press her further.
>Plunge into the depths of the CATACOMBS already.
>Write-In.

>>5192674
>Press into her further.

>Move on. Speak to the slimy merchant.

>>5192674
>Seduce Hag
Shes an older woman who likely knows what she wants, we are young and inexperienced but we got that wild energy

>Move on. Speak to the slimy merchant.
Let's speak.

>>5192683
Switching to this.
>Flirt

>>5192674
>Move on. Speak to the slimy merchant.

>>5192683
fuck it, why not +1

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>>5192683
>>5192701
>>5192706

>Seduce Hag

You’d once heard tell of a warrior’s practice in a faraway country–that when they found a new blade, they would cut down a weak passerby to test its edge before they took it to battle. You decide to follow a similar practice.
“So, hag..” You clear your throat. “Would you, perchance, be married, or..”
“Oh, my.. How very cute.” The hag cackles again, a bit more lightly than once before. “Are you trying to court me? Well, I’m flattered, but I’ve been taken for a very long time. My husband, his–what was his name? It was.. No-no, it was-..”

The hag’s look turns puzzled–despite your best attempts to draw her out of it, she seems lost in her own mind now. The merchant looks disgusted.

>Move on. Speak to the slimy merchant.
>Plunge into the depths. You don’t have the courage to face the merchant anymore.
>Write-In.

>>5192674
>lich
>her
It's time to get it on with DEM BONES. Let's squeeze in some practice with the old folks.
>>5192683
+1
Looking forward to whenever you do CSM Quest 2, OP! Mush is cute!

>>5192716
Fuck, I was too slow.
>Carefully pat a clothed part of her body - you don't want leprosy or something - and then speak to the merchant.

>>5192716
>>Move on. Speak to the slimy merchant.

>>5192716
Supporting >>5192723

>>5192723
>>5192724
>+1

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>>5192723
>>5192724
>>5192741
>>5192750

>Carefully pat a clothed part of her body - you don't want leprosy or something - and then speak to the merchant.

You can’t help but feel a twinge of pity for the ridden hag. You gently pat her arm before you turn away from the display–it’s always pitiful to see such dissipations of the mind. As you approach the slug’s array of merchandise, he sneers.

“Oh? You done feelin’ up the hag, then?” He scoffs.
“Quiet. It was a mere curiosity, nothing more.” You glower at the hunchback. “Do your job and show me your goods.”
“Well, well.. at least your judgement’s decent when it comes to purchases, eh?” He jeers as he waves to the array of knickknacks before you. “Take your pick. Best GRAVE GOODS in this hole.”

A cursory glance over his “goods” exposes his lie–they’re half-rusted swords, bent and broken armor, shattered alchemical bottles and ruined books. Nothing worth your time.

“..Grave goods?” You glance at the merchant, raising a brow.

“Ah. I guess you’re new around here, eh? Don’t know about grave goods.” He scratches his head. “See, grave goods are, uh.. when people die down here, they wake up again in little SHRINES like this, right? The immortality spell and whatnot. There’s little dumps just like these all over the CATACOMBS. But while their spirits get bound to fresh bodies, their corpses stay the same–so enterprising merchants such as myself do ‘em the favor of saving their goods from hungry monsters and getting them back to the adventurer–at a premium, of course.”

“You’re robbing them, then.” You cut him off. “Have you no shame?”

“Ahhh.. there’s that reaction.” The merchant snaps his fingers, his face lit up with smarmy recognition. “It’s always the same with your type. Fresh-faced adventures always up in arms about it. But you’ll get used to it. ‘Sjust how things work around here. And it’ll happen to you if you die down here, too. Some merchant will sweep that fancy-looking sword and that rifle right up from your carcass and turn ‘em over to any adventurer with a deep enough wallet. Best to keep your wits about you, or you'll end up like one of them.”

He motions to the array of merchandise beneath him.

>Question him about this so-called immortality spell.
>Ask about the monsters ahead of you.
>Ask him for any rumors around the CATACOMBS.
>Plunge into the depths and leave this shrine behind.
>Write-In.

>>5192764
>>Question him about this so-called immortality spell.

>>5192764
>Ask about the monsters ahead of you.

>>5192764
>Ask about the monsters ahead of you.
>Ask him for any rumors around the CATACOMBS.
>Ask him, if he had the skills and training to enter these catacombs, what kind of monstergirl he'd go for.

>>5192764
>Question him about this so-called immortality spell.

>>5192802
+1

>>5192764
>Question him about this so-called immortality spell.
>Ask about the monsters ahead of you.
>Ask him for any rumors around the CATACOMBS.

I have no shame, ask all the questions.

>>5192764
Also thirding the last question here >>5192802

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>>5192802
>>5192881
>>5192885
>>5192886
>>5192783
>>5192777

>Ask about the monsters ahead of you.
>Ask him for any rumors around the CATACOMBS.
>Ask him, if he had the skills and training to enter these catacombs, what kind of monstergirl he'd go for.

“Tell me.” You stare down the graverobber. “What kind of monsters can I expect ahead?”
“Ah.. this is just the first BLOCK, friend. We call it the MORTSAFE. Nothin’ a blue blood like you can’t handle.” He smirks. “Ghouls, cultists.. a ghost or two. Y’know. Usual stuff. The deeper you get, the more dangerous they get.”
“..Right.” Are ghouls and ghosts and cultists really ‘usual stuff’? You, admittedly, had little experience with monster’s affairs beyond books. “Any curious rumors about, then?”
“Oh, rumors? Ah, lemme think, lemme think.. y’know–.. hmm.. it’s on the tip of my tongue, but..” He opens and closes an extended palm. You roll your eyes as you reach into your coat pocket–how unsavory..

The slug’s eyes bug out of his head as 2 PENT land in his open palm.

“Woah-haha! You really are a noble, huh?” He snickers, pocketing the coins. “I’d be a little less generous with that kind of cash if I were you. Not many people in this dump are as kind as I.”
“The rumor?” You hurry him on impatiently.
“Ah, don’t get your panties in a twist. Right. See, there’s been sightings of a dangerous monster around this BLOCK. Not the kind you’d usually see in such a shallow area.” He wrings his hands. “They say she cuts down every unlucky bastard that gets caught in her path with her rapier. And that she’s just as terrifying as she is beautiful. If only I could get so lucky, huh?”

“Right.” You decide to press the merchant a little further. “And if you had the skills and training to enter these catacombs.. you’d go for her, then.”
“Ah? You’re talkin’ some heretical stuff there, pal.” The merchant sneers. “But if I was 10 years younger, I’d land myself a drider. Big spider ass. You know what I mean?”

>Plunge into the depths and leave this shrine behind.
>Question him about this so-called immortality spell.
>Look over his goods a bit more closely.
>Write-In.

>>5193106
>Look over his goods a bit more closely.

It is recycled junk mostly, but there may be something there we don't have that we need. These are taken from the dead who may potentially have gotten farther than we will after all.

I don't want to ask too many more questions, lest he demand more of our coin. We can infer what this spell is from what was said anyways. Sounds like a respawn spell, but you don't take your items with you.

>>5193106
>Ask him, if he had the skills and training to enter these catacombs, what kind of monstergirl he'd go for.

>>5193106
>Look over his goods a bit more closely

>spider ass
YES ALL MY YES
WAHAHAHAHAHAHA
SHOW ME THAT SPINNERET

>>5193106
>Question him about this so-called immortality spell.
>Look over his goods a bit more closely.

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>>5193118
>>5193121
>>5193189
>>5193329
>>5193351

>Look over his goods a bit more closely.

You ignore the ill-bred comment and look the man’s array of grave goods over once more. It’s just as you first thought; the vast majority is a mess of half broken weapons and armors torn from the corpses of dead adventurers. But on closer inspection, you find a few pearls among pig shit that might prove half-useful before you begin your journey proper.

You spot a small spherical bottle full of water–and you can make out the glass cross emblem of the CORPUS CHURCH atop its stopper. A bottle of holy water, most likely–especially effective against the unholy aberrations that litter these halls.
You find next to it an assortment of daggers. They’re rather pitiful at first glance, but upon closer inspection, you find that they’re meant to be thrown. They may prove useful if your rifle jams.
You see one–albeit, dingy and pathetic– small brass pocket watch. The face is open. It’s apparently 1:23. You suppose a way to tell the time in the dungeon may prove useful, but the clock itself seems rather strange.

“The pent I gave you should be enough to clear out your stall. I’ll take what I need.” You reach for your selection, but the merchant grabs your hand.
“Woah-woah-woah, pal! I’m generous, but I’m not that generous.” He scoffs. “You still gotta buy ‘em, all the same as the rest of us.”
“Then how much?” You scowl.
“Mmmm.. 30 pent, for each.” He remarks. You nearly choke. “No little, no less.”
“You’re not serious.” You stare daggers at the slug. You could afford that, but you’re not one to empty your pockets for junk.
“Sorry, pal. You know how tough the economy can be.” He winks. “Or, maybe I can part with just one for 1 pent.. Who knows?”

>Purchase the holy water.
>Purchase the throwing daggers.
>Purchase the stopwatch.
>Leave this swindler and enter the catacombs.
>Write-In.

>>5193373
>Purchase the stopwatch.
if its anything like the castlevania stopwatch then its easily the best here

>>5192764
>seduce the merchant

>>5193404
anon we're looking for a wife

>>5193373
>Purchase the holy water
>...and break it on the fucker's head.

>>5193405
Wifes are temporary, divorce is eternal.

>>5193403
+1
I smell a sidequest.

>>5193373
>Purchase the stopwatch.
>Purchase the holy water.

May as well stock up, if we die and resurrect then we aren't getting that money back anyways.

>>5193373
>Purchase the holy water.
>Purchase the throwing daggers.
>Purchase the stopwatch.

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>>5193403
>>5193404
>>5193412
>>5193424
>>5193446

>Purchase the stopwatch.
>Purchase the holy water.

“Fine, then.” You snarl. You reach into your coat pocket and toss a handful of coins down across the floor before him. They trace patterns in the ash as they clatter against stone–you pluck the holy water and stopwatch from his selection in the meantime. “I’ll be taking my leave.”
“You’re so kind, sir.” The merchant jeers, fumbling and grabbing at the most wealth he’s seen in a lifetime. You turn your back on the lowly pair and make for the dark hall ahead of the shrine, but the slug-man waves you off with a raucous laugh. “I hope to see you again soon!”

The first block of the CATACOMBS–the MORTSAFE. A series of dark, dim stone halls that wind in on top of one another, lit up by the endless wax candles that line the grounds and features of the walls. The labyrinth before you is caked with ash and dust, the footprints of adventurers before you wiped away by fresh cinders. On occasion, the stone facade gives way to the dirt and root underneath. It’s remarkably quiet–almost peaceful, in fact.
You once thought this dungeon a hot-blooded war ground between man and monster, where the sounds of slaughter and sword would ring throughout the halls, but this almost feels like a funerary ground. As you wind yet another dim corner near half an hour later, you almost begin to grow bored–that is, at least, until your senses are all at once assailed by foreign element.
You pick up the scent of rotten flesh and paradoxically warm blood down one hall–likely the result of an undead. You’re still foreign to combat with monsters, but this may prove a useful learning experience.
You hear the sound of steel against steel and shouts down another hall. You’re more familiar with this sort–a human dispute, maybe..?

>Investigate the scent of rotten flesh and blood.
>Investigate the sound of steel clatters and grunts.
>Write-In.

>>5193480
>Investigate the scent of rotten flesh and blood.

Let's dip our toes into the local pastime before we meet a potential waifu, so we have something to talk about.

>>5193490
+1

>>5193480
>Investigate the scent of rotten flesh and blood.

>>5193480
>Investigate the scent of rotten flesh and blood.

>>5193490
>before we meet a potential waifu
>before
You fool. Undead pussy is a perfectly acceptable hole. It's our endgoal, too. Lich is a chick, after all.
COURAGE AND VALOR

>>5193480
>Investigate the sound of steel clatters and grunts.

Fight! Fight! Fight!

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>>5193490
>>5193546
>>5193549
>>5193590
>>5193614
>>5193616

>Investigate the scent of rotten flesh and blood.

You decide to first investigate the undead. Your experience with monstrous affairs is inadequate, to say the least–your knowledge only stems from what you’ve seen in books and photos. If you’re to lay claim to these catacombs as its champion, then it’s best that you understand its inhabitants first. You follow the hall that reeks of rot and blood–it only grows more and more pungent as you creep down the corridor. You’re not unfamiliar with it.
With the scent comes sound–a vile gnawing noise, all manner of hungry slurping and licking and gnashing. Your nose crinkles.
The ashen corridor gradually opens to a small, circular end room–several matters of traps set into the walls appear to have been set off, as several bloody spears that stem from points along the facade crisscross the room. And in the room’s center, rending plate and flesh from some poor bastard hanging from a bayonet, is an UNDEAD.

She slowly turns to face you–her hair a tousled, tangled mess, a loose eye dangles from its socket. “Oh, hehehe! New meat! And you’re a big one, too!” The pupil from her loose eye turns to face you.
“Ugh..” You steel yourself. “My name is ALPHONSE VON GUNDYR. You’ll do well to remember it, subhuman.”

>Go for your greatsword. A family heirloom, it last saw blood near fifty years ago.
>Go for your rifle. A mainstay of your time in the cavalry corps.
>Pull your holy water. Test it’s effectivity.
>Write-In.

>>5193665
>Go for your rifle. A mainstay of your time in the cavalry corps.

>>5193665
t... titties

>>5193665
>Go for your rifle. A mainstay of your time in the cavalry corps.

>>5193665
>Go for your greatsword. A family heirloom, it last saw blood near fifty years ago.

>>5193665
>Subdue and headpat. Continue headpatting until target is rendered insensate.

>>5193665
>>Go for your greatsword. A family heirloom, it last saw blood near fifty years ago.

>>5193877
Support

>>5193665
>=>Go for your greatsword. A family heirloom, it last saw blood near fifty years ago.

>>5193665
>Go for your greatsword. A family heirloom, it last saw blood near fifty years ago.

>>5193665
>Go for your greatsword. A family heirloom, it last saw blood near fifty years ago.

>>5193665

>>Go for your greatsword. A family heirloom, it last saw blood near fifty years ago.

Foul undead, taste my steel!

>>5194089
based

>>5193665
>>Go for your rifle. A mainstay of your time in the cavalry corps.
Eat lead, big titty bitch

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>>5194128
>>5194091
>>5194089
>>5194030
>>5194005
>>5193988
>>5193986
>>5193877
>>5193829
>>5193800
>>5193793
>>5193711

>Go for your greatsword. A family heirloom, it last saw blood near fifty years ago.

You go for your greatsword, an heirloom blade that was a mainstay in the parlor of your family’s manor for as long as you can remember. Your hand clumsily fumbles along your neck as you grasp for its hilt and, with a slight bow of your back, you begin to tug steel from sheath. While you’re not quite as comfortable around your sword as you are your rifle, you still took lessons as a youth. You should have no trouble against a brainless undead such as this.
With a great grunt, you heft the sword from its sheath and dash the stone beneath you with its fall. It bounces with a sickly shock of steel against rock, clatters, and lies on its edge. With a gasp, you attempt to heft the sword up again for a proper swing. Your back strains and arms scream as you just barely inch the sword upward into a combat stance–and it falls, unceremoniously, back to the ground as your arms give way. Your brow furrows.

Is this.. really a sword? No. It’s too big, too thick, too heavy, and too rough. It’s more like a large hunk of iron..

“Geheheh! What?! Haaa? Is this really the best you humans could muster?!” The undead nearly doubles over, her cruel laughter bouncing along the chamber’s. “Well.. don’t worry. Lots of guys can’t get it up around me. Gehahaha!”

>Drop the sword and go for your rifle. Two in the head should stop these foul insults.
>Try for your sword again. You should only need one swing to take care of this.
>Use the sword to break a spear off one of the traps lining the walls. That should prove more useful.
>Drop the sword and engage in fisticuffs. You should be strong enough to overpower her.
>Write-In.

>>5194163
Give her a hug! A nice big hug

Lift the sword with your LEGS

Put your legs on it.

>>5194163
>Try for your sword again. You should only need one swing to take care of this.

It's a zombie. Bullets won't work, we have to cut its head off!

>>5194163
>Try for your sword again. You should only need one swing to take care of this.
How can we expect to find a wife with such a poor show of swordsmanship?
We must brace our legs and thrust it forward!

>>5194213
>>5194218
>>5194219
>>5194258

>Try for your sword again. You should only need one swing to take care of this.

You take a breath and wrap both hands around its hilt. How could you ever expect to find a wife with such a poor swordsmanship?

>Roll a 1d20, Bo3.

Rolled 20 (1d20)

>>5194266

>>5194270
Hahaha, WELP.

>>5194270
Looks like we're done rolling!

>>5194270

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wew

>>5194270

>Try for your sword again. You should only need one swing to take care of this.

You refuse to shame the Von Gundyr name again.

You grip the greatsword’s hilt, brace your legs, and with a great heave swing the blade up into the air, the weight of its blunt edge over your shoulder. It’s heft is such that your knees nearly buckle beneath it, its size such that it nearly scrapes the dungeon’s ceiling–but you grit your teeth and persist.
“A-..ah..” The undead’s jeers die in her throat as the shadow of your sword looms over her. “I..”
You take a step forward and let gravity do the brunt of its work as the blade, like a guillotine, falls over the room. It splinters and shatters the trap spears toothpicks as it hurtles toward the undead. You feel a rush of air as the sword swings down all at once to smear your opponent–she’s dead.

At least–she should be. A fusillade of ash and dust clouds your vision and fills your lungs. A gust, like quicksilver, blows past you. A clang of steel against steel. It all happens in seconds. As the greatsword’s sheer edge clatters against the dusty floor, your undead mark lost, you reorient yourself.
A lithe gray wolf pads the space betwixt you and your target, a rapier in its jaws. As it steps gently over the spears that litter the ground before you, its form gradually shifts–it’s fur twists up and darkens into a cloak, it’s maw recedes, andsoftens and curves. A slender, willowy young woman with a fine black cloak, her pale hair falls over her shoulder in a font of braids. She wields the rapier in one hand now, but two sheathes hang from her hip.

You catch a glimpse of fangs. A vampire? No. There’s a softness about her features, her proportions too human. Your eyes narrow as you tighten your grip on your greatsword.
“Oh, dear. Another dogged contender..” The dhampir sighs. “Did your mother not teach you how to treat a lady?”

>Warn the dhampir that if it does not back away, it will soon join the undead.
>Prepare to fight both.
>Demand to know what it’s doing. It doesn’t do monsters well to look after one another.
>Write-In.

>Demand to know what it’s doing. It doesn’t do monsters well to look after one another.

>>5194314
>Demand to know what it’s doing. It doesn’t do monsters well to look after one another.
>But, like, flirtily
Compliment her misguided chivalry, but explain that chivalry is for [MEN] to wield in defence of [WOMEN], not for beautiful [WOMEN] to wield in defence of [CANNIBALISTIC CORPSES WHO CONSTANTLY MAKE SEX PUNS]

>>5194314
>Prepare to fight both.

>>5194319
+1
a way to salvage the situation

>>5194319
+1, fuck it

>>5194314
>>Demand to know what it’s doing. It doesn’t do monsters well to look after one another.
Honestly, I am all for killing the waifus.

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>>5194441
>>5194424
>>5194423
>>5194322
>>5194319
>>5194315

>Demand to know what it’s doing. It doesn’t do monsters well to look after one another.
>Compliment her misguided chivalry, but explain that chivalry is for [MEN] to wield in defence of [WOMEN], not for beautiful [WOMEN] to wield in defence of [CANNIBALISTIC CORPSES WHO CONSTANTLY MAKE SEX PUNS]

“You would spit your insipid platitudes at me, dhampir?” You glower. “I thought chivalry for men in the service of women, not subhumans in service of corpses.”
“My, you’re a charming one.” She remarks coldly. “You must be popular back home.”
“What’s your business here?” You continue, your hands firm on the greatsword. “You monsters seldom act out of charity for your own kind? Is it my head you're after?”
“I have no quarrel with you, noble.” The dhampir scoffs, her rapier low. “I simply thought to prevent an undue waste of such beauty.”
“Beauty?” You echo.

“Yes. Monster girls. Are they not beautiful?” She tilts her head, as if that was the most obvious thing in the world.

>Ask her to stop toying with you. What are her real intentions here?
>Ask for what beauty she sees in these aberrations.
>Demand that she hands over the undead at once or die alongside her.
>Write-In.

>>5194482
>Demand that she hands over the undead at once or die alongside her.
We rolled a 20, fuck you OP you cuck.

>>5194482
>Ask for what beauty she sees in these aberrations.

>>5194482
>Ask for what beauty she sees in these aberrations.
>"The merchant said much the same. Professed an attraction to spider girls. I can't imagine it."
AND SO OUR MONSTERFUCKER JOURNEY BEGINS

>>5194482
>Demand that she hands over the undead at once or die alongside her.
We will roll a nat 1, but derailing this whole thing into monster slaying instead of monster laying is too funny to stop now.

>>5194482
>Ask for what beauty she sees in these aberrations.

>Ask for what beauty she sees in these aberrations.
What's the deal with monster girls?

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>>5194527
>>5194522
>>5194514
>>5194496
>>5194489
>>5194539

>Ask for what beauty she sees in these aberrations.
>"The merchant said much the same. Professed an attraction to spider girls. I can't imagine it."

“Beauty.” You reiterate. “What, pray tell, sort of beauty do you see in these unholy aberrations? I can’t imagine it.”
“Ahhh.. is it not obvious?” She sighs, her eyes shut. She clasps her hands together. “The gentle feminine curvature of skeletons–all at once thin and robust. The dichotomy between rotten flesh and smooth, supple skin among the undead. The cold yet gentle allure of broad, possessed armor. And the danger inherent to it all! That a monster girl might tear out your very throat as you court her! Is it not titillating?!”
The dhampir begins to drool a little. Is this some sort of.. psychological strategy? A trick, to lower your guard and let her close the gap to pierce your throat?

“Ah.. forgive me. I’ve yet to introduce myself. I believe that’s customary among the high born.” She wipes her mouth as she feigns a mock bow. “I am Lady Avalsidal–or, Lady Ava, if you’d prefer.”

>Demand that she stop her psychological attack at once.
>Demand that she hands over the undead at once, or die along with her.
>Introduce yourself and demand she engage you in battle.
>Write-In.

>>5194541
>Introduce yourself and demand she engage you in battle.
SLAP´
THE
THOT

>>5194541
>Introduce yourself and demand she engage you in battle.
>Charm Lady Ava in a titillating fashion

>Jeff's first daughter turned into a dumb yurifag
For shame.

>>5194547
This was why God made the pump-n-dump maneuver.

>>5194545
+1

>>5194541
>Introduce yourself and demand she engage you in battle.

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>>5194554
We're a nobleman, not a ruffian.

Just slap her across the face. And i mean a slap. Not a slap with our sword or gun, a real slap.

That's the noble thing to do.

>>5194541
>Introduce yourself and demand she engage you in battle.

>>5194560
Use the pummel of our sword.

>>5194564
Hmm, i'm not sure that'd be very easy. The sword is very big, right? If we're fighting seriously, then we gotta just shoot her with our rifle (we are a dragoon apparently)

Which was why i said that it would have been better to slap. But i guess we can do that later.

>>5194566
unscrew the pommel and end her rightly

>>5194569
Better to just beat her over the head with it.

>>5194541
>Introduce yourself and demand she engage you in battle.
And if we're going to have to fight her, don't just slap her, take out our white glove we carry around to challenge people to duels with and throw it at her.

Oh yes, and we have to remember we have a wounded knee while this girl is obviously a dexfag, quite literally, in fact.

Let's try to fight in a way that doesn't require much moving, since we'll be at a disadvantage

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>And the danger inherent to it all! That a monster girl might tear out your very throat as you court her! Is it not titillating?!”
Unironically 40% of the reason why I like monster girls. Someone that powerful generally has no need to lie (unless it's like a kitsune or some shit and it's pathological, but even then it's playful when done romantically). Incredibly based QM, I like this dhampir.
The other 60% is because they look cool.
>Introduce yourself and demand she engage you in battle.

>>5194541
we could make a deal with her tho.
We promise not to kill any of her precious monster girls and in exchange she gives us information on shorcuts to the lich.
probably a bad plan but its a quick route down

>>5194585
Well, we don't want a shortcut, we were trying to find a wife, right? We should just take the scenic route. We're already a noble anyway, we don't need another title.

>>5194586
we can use it as a excuse to make her come with us then.
she comes to "keep an eye on us"

>>5194589
It's pretty obvious she's more interested in monster girls than human nobles.

>>5194591
we can wingman her
I'm not picky

>>5194596
pretty pathetic desu

we're here specifically to find a girl who isn't just a wet rag

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>>5194541
>>Introduce yourself and demand she engage you in battle.

Wow imagine if she kicked our ass and stood over us while we're on the ground and said, "Pathetic." How embarassing haha ...

>>5194541
>Introduce yourself and demand she engage you in battle.

>>5194541
>Demand that she stop her psychological attack at once.
>Introduce yourself and demand she engage you in battle.
An honourable duel, specifically, and not necessarily to the death.

This is Jeff Arsene's kid, isn't it?

>>5194621
Yes, it's the same name. It's a shame, really, but i guess when you've got god knows how many children and wives, some of them are bound end up badly.

>>5194623
>badly
She turned out exactly like Jeff.

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>>5194625
Jeff can have children with monster girls, and did so

She's lucky she ain't the only arsene

>>5194625
A moster girl Jeff would be a smug dexfag that would go after human man.
She's only half Jeff.

>>5194630
No, that would be a REVERSE Jeff. She turned out EXACTLY like Jeff: a smug dexfag who goes after monstergirls. She, if anything, turned out TOO MUCH like him.

>>5194629
Didn't stop him seducing ones with no reproductive capabilities along the way.

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>>5194570
How about we buttstroke her with the rifle?

>>5194640
I hear your argument but I must disagree. Jeff is a smug dexfag that's atracted TO his reverse, a feminine unhuman to his masculine human. As such, it is clear that Ava is only HALF Jeff because she is attracted to her own, feminine unhuman, essence. She lacks the duality of Jeff.

>>5194640
>Didn't stop him seducing ones with no reproductive capabilities along the way.
Well, that's questionable, what with being monsters and all.

Doesn't really change that going after monster girls would mean an end to the line if not for the many siblings she probably has.

>>5194641
You bet we're gonna stroke her butt with our rifle...

>>5194650
it's called buttstroke, but it goes straight for the cranium

>>5194657
But her ass isn't on her cranium, anon. It's where asses are supposed to be.

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>>5194544
>>5194545
>>5194556
>>5194557
>>5194564
>>5194573
>>5194584
>>5194604
>>5194607
>>5194621

>Introduce yourself and demand she engage you in battle.
>And if we're going to have to fight her, don't just slap her, take out our white glove we carry around to challenge people to duels with and throw it at her.

“I am Alphonse Von Gundyr.” You declare, your voice steely–this is no ordinary monster. You tug a thick glove from your left hand and toss it to the ground beneath her. You shall not allow such embarrassment again. “And if you’re to claim such arrogance, subhuman, then you will back your words with blood. I challenge you to a duel.”
“Oh, my. A challenge to duel with your glove? How romantic.” Lady Ava sighs, her gaze drawn to the cloth before her. “I might just fall for you, little haut monde. But, unfortunately, I have more important affairs to attend to than a petty duel. And besides..”

She draws her rapier against the ground and flings her cloak upward. In the mere seconds’ gap of obscuration, you find her before you all at once–she stands atop your low greatsword now, both feet along its edge. You feel no shift in weight. “I hardly think it fair to fight a man who can barely lift his sword.” She whispers.

You shake the blade along its hilt to fling her off, but she steps off with grace all the same. “Bah! A cheap move. I was not yet prepared.” You excuse yourself, a bead of cold sweat on your forehead–she knows just as well as you do how poor of a match-up this could be, with your bum knee and sword’s weight against her agility. If you could get some distance, your rifle might prove of use, but.. “And what, pray tell, could a monster have to do that bears any sort of importance?”
“Hm? Well, I’m off to the bottom, of course. I make the pilgrimage every five years or so, but lo and behold, a rather pigheaded noble’s gotten in my way.” She smirks. With a flourish, she sheathes one of her rapiers. “Now, if you’d excuse me, I’m off for a visit..”

“The bottom?” You demand. “A bold lie, even for a monster–no one has seen the bottom layer since the CATACOMB’s discovery.”

“Ah–the discovery. You lot are so presumptuous.” Lady Ava scoffs. “Do you really think a dungeon of such magnitude a mere 10 years old? It’s been around for much, much longer than that–more like 150 or 200, by my measure. I’ve undertaken the journey many times now.”

>Challenge her again to a duel. If you win, she’s to lead you to the bottom herself.
>Demand proof of her ridiculous claims.
>Demand information on shortcuts or alternative routes to the lich.
>Write-In.

>>5194699
>Challenge her again to a duel. If you win, she’s to lead you to the bottom herself.

>Demand proof of her ridiculous claims.
Sounds like using her ego is a good idea. Though in all honesty, a rifle would probably be a pretty effective weapon in a closed place. Try to dodge a bullet when you've got nowhere to go.

>>5194699
>Demand proof of her ridiculous claims.

>>5194699
>Demand proof of her ridiculous claims.

Whatever we do, we should also grab a spear from the ground. Spare weapons are always handy. Plus, if the local architecture is composed of roughly straight corridors, it becomes even more effective.

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>>5194699
>Demand proof of her ridiculous claims.

All I know is that we need to duel her for real, with our rifle. We cant let some dumb dhampir look down on us like some smug brat.

>>5194699
>Demand proof of her ridiculous claims.

If she can provide them, then...

>Challenge her again to a duel. If you win, she’s to lead you to the bottom herself.

>>5194706
>>5194984
What kind of knave challenges someone to a duel, then runs away and takes pot-shots from a distance? If we're doing that, we must at least arm her with a gun in turn. We're trying to win our family honour BACK, are we not?

>>5194699
>Challenge her again to a duel. If you win, she’s to lead you to the bottom herself.

>>5195026
Distance? Long as we have our gun out and it isnt, I dont know, a flintlock musket, we would be just as good as a sword.

>>5194699
>Demand proof of her ridiculous claims.

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>>5195351
>>5195200
>>5195026
>>5194887
>>5194796
>>5194707
>>5194706
>>5194705

>Demand proof of her ridiculous claims.

“If you’re to claim such bosh, then you need to substantiate it.” You challenge her. “How do you expect me to take the words of a monster at face value?”
“Oh? Would you have me tell you the lich’s cup size?” Lady Ava rolls her eyes. “Because they’re hug–”
“Please. Enough vulgarity..” You sigh in exasperation.

“Fine. Excuse me, darling.” She gently steps past the fallen undead, who has since remained tight-lipped and curled up behind the “fair lady.” As the dhampir strides along the circular curve of the wall, she runs a pale hand along its surface. “This chamber is no dead end. From what I remember, it should be.. ah.”
Her hand seems to sink as the facade of a coarse stone wall fades and shimmers. It gives way to a long, dark corridor ahead–an illusory wall..?
“The exact order of passages and rooms may shift over the years, but their tricks will always remain the same.” She glances back at you. “The MORTSAFE is a trap in of itself, a cage of sorts for foolish new adventurers–a gridlock of stone halls and traps, a labyrinth with no end. The only way to progress deeper into the CATACOMBS is through illusory corridors and gaps in the walls like these. Are you quite satisfied?”

“You expect me to believe you from just that?” You scowl. “It proves your familiarity with this level–nothing more.”
“Well, if you’d like more proof, we can always get back to the lich’s cup size.”

>Challenge her again to a duel. If you win, she’s to lead you to the bottom herself. If you fail, you won’t hurt any of her precious monster girls.
>Enter the corridor yourself. You have no need for a dhampir’s tricks to succeed.
>Ask quietly about the cup size.
>Write-In.

>>5195455
>Challenge her again to a duel. If you win, she's to lead you to the bottom herself. If you fail, you won't hurt any of her precious monster girls.

Hm, yes, if we're going to duel, we should do it with the rifle. We already have multiple disadvantages, she's playing at home field and we have a wounded knee.

It's not shame for an rifleman to use a rifle. And as long as we have it out before she starts fighting, we will barely have to aim.

>>5195468
Aim at the head to save the booba from getting wounded.

>>5195472
I wouldn't try to aim at the head when dealing with an speedster. Since i don't think that we're using an peashooter, burly cavalryman that we are, hitting her alone would, if not obviously do heavy damage, cause enough of an impact that she would be thrown off her style.

Because again, we're in an single corridor, and we're way too tall for her to - for example, just jump over. Being a dragoon veteran, our reaction time should be good enough to hit her.

>>5195455
>Challenge her again to a duel. If you win, she's to lead you to the bottom herself. If you fail, you won't hurt any of her precious monster girls.

Really though, we should pull out our rifle instead of the sword. We're not going to get much use out of it unless our knee gets magically healed.

>Ask quietly about the cup size.
Her natural defenses are important information.
Also, lmao at using what is presumably a fucking matchlock rifle in close quarters against a faster-than-the-eye speedster.

>>5195455
>Ask quietly about the cup size.

Hubba hubba

>>5195455
>Ask quietly about the cup size.
Also, try to compare what she claims is the lich’s size to her size.

>>5195566
>matchlock rifle
We're a dragoon, this ain't the 16th century. Also, matchlock "rifle"? Why the fuck would you rifle a matchlock? If it's a rifle, then it's at the very least a rifled musket. Given we're an dragoon, though, it seems more likely to be an breech-loaded rifle.

Also. why not? We're a marksman, not an swordsman, and we definitely won't be throwing around the big dragonslayer with our wounded knee.

Stop simping like a retard.

Also, just to make it easier to count
>Challenge her again to a duel. If you win, she's to lead you to the bottom herself. If you fail, you won't hurt any of her precious monster girls.
AND USE THE RIFLE

>>5195455
>Challenge her again to a duel. If you win, she's to lead you to the bottom herself. If you fail, you won't hurt any of her precious monster girls.

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>>5195463
>>5195496
>>5195566
>>5195567
>>5195569
>>5195572
>>5195578

>Challenge her again to a duel. If you win, she's to lead you to the bottom herself. If you fail, you won't hurt any of her precious monster girls.

“Then my offer stands.” You stow your improper thoughts away and levy your glare at the dhampir. “I challenge you to a duel, subhuman. If I win, you’re to lead me to the bottom of these catacombs yourself. If you win, then you have my word as a nobleman that I will not hurt any of your.. ‘monster girls.’”
“..This is why I despise you humans. Always so quick to throw away your lives..” The lady sighs. She lays a hand on the hilt of her rapier and stands before the undead. “But if that would sate your curiosity.. I can put that ambition to rest. Go on, then. On your mark.”

She draws her first scarlet rapier in a flash and holds it low. She gently tugs at the air with her free hand. You watch as a second ebony rapier draws itself from its hilt and floats in the air at her shoulder, its point levied in your direction. A dual wielder..?

>Use your greatsword.
>Use your rifle.
>Use your holy water.
>Use a spear from a broken trap.
>Engage in fisticuffs.
>Write-In.

>>5195594
>Use your rifle.
Holy water isn't going to work, she's a Dhampir. And again, it really isn't a good idea to engage in melee against someone who has all the advantages.

>>5195594
>Use a spear from a broken trap.

>>5195607
What did i just say? We're going to lose if we try to melee her because of our knee. She's a dexfag.

>>5195610
She'd probably just dodge the shot desu, may as well use a weapon that doesn't need reloading

>>5195612
She's not that fast. If she was, then we definitely wouldn't win in melee, stupid. Furthermore, even if she was able to dodge a bullet - which is doubtful, we're in a tight corridor. She doesn't exactly have a lot of leeway.

We're a DRAGOON.

>>5195594
>Use your holy water.

>>5195616
Holy water doesn't work on dhampirs

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>>5195613
I should probably clarify that you're in a circular room like this.

>>5195620
Well, we're fairly close to the corridor.

>>5195620
oo pretty
>>5195618
fine, then
>Use your greatsword's pommel

>>5195594
>>Use your rifle

>>5195594
>Use your greatsword

>>5195594
>Use your greatsword.

>>5195594
>Use your rifle.

>>5195594 #
>Use your greatsword
The idea of shoting her in the face does not sit well with me.

>>5195678
The idea of losing to her again is even worse. She's too smug. She needs some humble pie.

>>5195594
>Use your rifle.

>>5195594
>Use your rifle.

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>>5195699
>>5195690
>>5195678
>>5195675
>>5195670
>>5195656
>>5195650
>>5195625
>>5195616
>>5195607
>>5195598

>Use your rifle.

You unholster the arm at your side–a CHEKHOV RIFLE, standard issue in the king’s LOCKSTEP CAVALRY. While your swordsmanship may be lacking, your marksmanship is a point of pride for you. You’ve been a crack shot ever since your youth, much in part thanks to your hunting experience. You load your five shots and pull back the bolt.
“Oh, my. What a big gun.” Ava tilts her head. “Are you sure about that? This close?”
You ignore her provocations as you shoulder the rifle. The dhampir stands about 5 meters away. At this range, it’d be impossible to miss–a human, at least. You’re not yet sure the full range of her abilities just yet. But you’d guess that her stupefying speed comes at a cost; just one strong hit is likely enough to incapacitate her, which would explain her focus on obscuration and speed with the flinging of her cloak and the blowing up of dust.

The dhampir drags one rapier against the ground as the other dances in the air along past her shoulder blades. “Ready yet?” She stares. “Whenever you are.”

>Begin by firing a shot off at her.
>Attempt to buttstroke her with the rifle when she comes at you.
>Write-In.

Hmm, i think she's going to try to lunge at us. Maybe we can do something to split her attention, even if for a second, and then shoot.

>>5195744
>Attempt to buttstroke her with the rifle when she comes at you.

Maybe we could throw something at her to grab her attention and then shoot? But then again, we'd be moving the hand from the weapon.

>>5195744
>Begin by firing a shot off at her.
though idk why these are mutually exclusive

>>5195744
>Attempt to buttstroke her with the rifle when she comes at you.

>>5195773
+1

Actually, yeah, why cant we shoot and THEN Buttstroke?

>>5195744
>Begin by firing a shot off at her.

>>5195744
>Attempt to buttstroke her with the rifle when she comes at you.

>>5195744
>>Begin by firing a shot off at her.

>>5195744
>Let her make the first move. Squeeze the trigger, but not enough to fire it, read her movements to predict where she will be.

>>5195744
>Begin by firing a shot off at her.
Use this to trick her and then
>Attempt to buttstroke her with the rifle when she comes at you.

>>5195983
Yes, do this

>>5195983
+1

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>>5195748
>>5195773
>>5195780
>>5195783
>>5195807
>>5195855
>>5195859
>>5195894
>>5195983
>>5195995
>>5196062

>Begin by firing a shot off at her.
>Attempt to buttstroke her with the rifle when she comes at you.

“Let’s begin.” You expect no protracted contest nor dramatic turns; this matter will be decided in moments, whether it be a bullet through her sternum or a blade through your throat. With that, you crack a shot off.

A brilliant white spark snaps at the barrel’s tip as your first shot roars through the air. It's almost deafening in this confined corridor, the round spiraling through the dust and ash-laden air as it traces a path right through into her dark overcoat. Your shot was dead-on. It gnaws through the thick cloth and bores a hole right through it, the white hot lead having left the hole smoldering. You watch the cloak sink to the ground.
Was that it? You glare at the fallen shape.
But as you pull back the bolt, a waxen blur courses out from under the fallen cloak–a jittery, pale shape twisting and turning in the air at alarming speeds toward you, a black rapier spiraling along behind it. You curse beneath your breath. She’s become a bat now–smaller, faster, and a much more difficult target, whether that be with a bullet or your stock.

>Attempt to catch her with the butt of the rifle.
>Try to fire a shot off at her.
>Attempt to swing your great sword up to catch her.
>Drop the gun and switch to your fists to beat her out of the air.
>Write-In.

>>5196088
>Attempt to catch her with the butt of the rifle.

>>5196088
>Attempt to catch her with the butt of the rifle.
Bat the bat.

>>5196107
+1

>>5196088
>Attempt to catch her with the butt of the rifle.
>Bat the bat.

>>5196091
>>5196107
>>5196136
>>5196163

>Attempt to catch her with the butt of the rifle.

>Roll a 1d20, Bo3.

Rolled 3 (1d20)

>>5196167
BONK

Rolled 4 (1d20)

>>5196167
we playing whac-a-flying-mole now

Rolled 20 (1d20)

>>5196167

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>>5196177
HOLY FUCKING SAVED

She's going to turn into a splatter on the wall

>>5196177
Clutch as fuck, Alphonse must have been one hell of a war hero

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wewx2

>>5196177

You spin the length of your rifle along your arm as you direct your stock forward. You heft it back, and with a great heave, plunge the blunt end forward–where you catch the twirling bat dead on. The bat gasps as she’s flung downward along the path of your buttstroke, crashing to the ground with her black rapier.

“Ghh–” Lady Ava chokes, winded. You watch as the bat’s wings curl upward into a human form, gasping for breath and clawing at her chest. Her ears collapse and curl into silvery locks, her fur ruff into a loose poet shirt. As her breath catches, she slowly raises her head to come face-to-face with the end of your rifle.

“You’ve lost, dhampir.” You don’t bother attempting to mask the pride in your voice. “I expect you to uphold your end of the deal.”

“..What an ugly way of fighting.” She says, her voice low. “It befits someone of your countenance.”
“Oh? A sore loser is an ugly look.” You smirk.

>Help the dhampir up. The duel is over.
>Allow her up herself. It doesn’t befit you to lay hands a monster.
>Shoot her once for good measure. You don’t know what tricks she may pull.
>Write-In.

>>5196199
>Help the dhampir up. The duel is over.

>>5196199
>>Help the dhampir up. The duel is over.
A noble must remain noble even when dealing with weirdos who might be into necrophilia.

>>5196199
>Shoot her once for good measure. You don’t know what tricks she may pull.
We have a zombie to kill and noncliche monsters to find.

>>5196199
>Help the dhampir up. The duel is over.
To show we're above acting like a smug brat.

>>5196199
>Help the dhampir up. The duel is over.
Hope she is ready for a snide gloating session

>>5196199
>Help the dhampir up. The duel is over.

>>5196199
>Help the dhampir up. The duel is over.
At the least, this sub human has a noble attitude.

>>5196199
>Help the dhampir up. The duel is over.

>>5196199
>Help the dhampir up. The duel is over.

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>>5196203
>>5196204
>>5196206
>>5196207
>>5196213
>>5196215
>>5196226
>>5196239
>>5196240

>Help the dhampir up. The duel is over.

You retrieve your glove from the floor, slip the thick rag back on, and turn it back out to her. “Well, then. Come up. You’re to lead me now, aren’t you?” You stare haughtily; she may be a monster, but a noble must remain a noble, even in extraordinary circumstances. The dhampir stares quietly before taking your hand in hers.
“..Thank you.” She mutters, pulling herself up–as before, you feel no shifting in weight. The lady dusts herself clean as she approaches her cloak–with a single, sharp shake, the bullet hole in it disappears and she dons it again with a flourish. You notice the undead gone in the meantime; it’s likely she fled through the illusory corridor whilst you were in the midst of your duel.

“Well? Hurry it up.” Lady Ava stands at the corridor’s exit, her eyes narrow.
“Might I remind you that we march at my pace, not yours?” You roll your eyes as you follow along after the dhampir through the dim hall.

The corridor is much the same as the MORTSAFE–a long dark hall that thins and widens and winds at odd points. You pick up only the sound of your footfalls and breath. Your escort, however, is apparently afloat and breathless. Your journey persists in that same silence for several long minutes as a rather uncomfortable atmosphere falls over the passage.

You think it unnecessary to strike up conversation with a dhampir, but you at least deserve to know more of the situation.

>Ask of the block ahead. It’s better to know what you’re dealing with.
>Ask of her own intentions here in the CATACOMBS. What use could she have with nobility or money?
>Ask what kind of human warriors to expect further down.
>Write-In.

>Ask what kind of human warriors to expect further down.

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>>5196242
>Picrel.

>>5196242
>Ask of her own intentions here in the CATACOMBS. What use could she have with nobility or money?

>>5196242
>>Ask what kind of human warriors to expect further down
>Write-in (Ask what sort of individuals should we be wary of, and who could assist us in our quest)

>>5196242
>Ask of her own intentions here in the CATACOMBS. What use could she have with nobility or money?
>How did you find out about the lich’s cup size, anyways? I’d expect that information to be kept close to the chest, so to speak.

>>5196286
+1

>>5196242
>Ask of the block ahead. It’s better to know what you’re dealing with.

>>5196286
+1

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>>5196371
>>5196292
>>5196286
>>5196266
>>5196263
>>5196252
>>5196243
>>5196442

>Ask of her own intentions here in the CATACOMBS. What use could she have with nobility or money?
>How did you find out about the lich’s cup size, anyways? I’d expect that information to be kept close to the chest, so to speak.

“So what are your intentions here in the catacombs?” You ask, led on by your curiosity. “What possible use could a dhampir have with wealth or status?”
“Hm? Are you.. unaware? I thought you like the others.” She glances back. “..Do you truly think a meager noble title the only thing at stake here? ”
“How do you mean?” You frown. “The king’s bounty for the lich’s head was one of monetary compensation and nobility, nothing more.”
“Bah! So you are ignorant.” She snickers. “..No, gold and title are such.. ephemeral trophies. Insignificant against the dungeon’s rumored true treasure.”
“And that would be..?” You sigh, sick of her condescension already.
“Immortality.” Lady Ava replies. “A means for adventurers to attain endless life beyond the confines of these walls. It’s said that the lich found a way long ago, but by then, it was too late for her.”
You pause. “Then.. you’re familiar with the lich, are you not? Is it true?”
“Hmm.. who knows?” She turns away. “But immortality is a foolish thing to yearn for.”
“Then how did you know about the lich’s cup size?” You scowl. “I’d expect that information to be kept close to the chest–er, not like that.”
“We’re familiar.” Lady Ava scoffs. “She’s like a big sister, I suppose.”

Your conversation is cut short as she comes to a halt all at once. The passage has come to a sudden end, open to a wide, dome-like room supported and structured by several stone arches. The room is lined with candles and spaces in the walls–another SHRINE, most likely, for adventurers to resurrect in. A handful of disparate people mill about here, a far cry from the pathetic, forlorn shrine prior. You spot a couple interesting adventurers betwixt the few..

“Here. You can ply your trade.” Lady Ava sighs, resting her back against a wall and folding her arms. “I’ll wait for you to finish before we continue. Do hurry up.”

>Speak to the bushy-browed merchant hocking his grave goods.
>Speak to the quiet armored one brooding in the corner.
>Continue your conversation with the dhampir.
>Write-In.

>>5196461
>Speak to the bushy-browed merchant hocking his grave goods.
Merchant time

>>5196461
>Speak to the quiet armored one brooding in the corner.
We need a tank.

>>5196461
>Speak to the bushy-browed merchant hocking his grave goods.
>Speak to the quiet armored one brooding in the corner.

>>5196461
>Speak to the quiet armored one brooding in the corner.

>>5196461
>Speak to the quiet armored one brooding in the corner.
Lo, good man. What is it like ahead?

>>5196461
>Speak to the bushy-browed merchant hocking his grave goods.

Let the brooding man brood alone, he's brooding for a reason.

>>5196461
>>Speak to the quiet armored one brooding in the corner.

>>5196461
>Speak to the bushy-browed merchant hocking his grave goods.

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>>5196975
>>5196695
>>5196677
>>5196601
>>5196587
>>5196493
>>5196465

>Speak to the bushy-browed merchant hocking his grave goods.

You turn your attention to the bushy-browed merchant first. You approach his stall–just like the one prior, his is a thin cloth lain out with an assortment of haphazard knickknacks and merchandise. Whilst the merchant himself is a rather crooked, twitchy-looking fellow, his raggedy shirt hanging from a scraggy frame, his stock seems more valuable than the slug’s.
“Hmm, hmm!” He furls his moustache back. “And what, pray tell, have I done to earn the good grace of a noble’s visit..? My, my. Take your time.”
You note a figure to the merchant’s side–a slight, pale young woman with her head down, her hands clasped and her eyes half-lidded. She remains silent but her eyes follow your gaze. His daughter, perhaps–or a body guard, from the looks of the knife that hangs from her hip.

>Examine the merchant’s goods.
>Ask about his selection.
>Examine the woman next to the merchant.
>Write-In.

>>5197041
> Ask about his selection.

>>5197041
>>Ask about his selection.

>>5197041
>Ask about his selection.
>Examine the woman next to the merchant.

>>5197063
>Anonymous
+1

>>5197072
dumb pc
don't know why it quoted

>>5197041
>Examine the woman next to the merchant.

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>>5197095
>>5197075
>>5197072
>>5197063
>>5197060
>>5197056

>Ask about his selection.
>Examine the woman next to the merchant.

“What have you got?” You cross your arms.
“Ahaha.. Ah, yes, yes, of course, one moment..” He rubs his moustache. “Hmm.. right here, we have a CHOIR mask of the CORPUS CHURCH, useful against DHAMPIR and VAMPIRIC tricks and illusions. And here, some SILVER ROUNDS, for the occasional beastly presence.. Aha–some RATIONS, in case you might need to camp, or distract a monster..”
He continues to ramble on for the rest of his ill-gotten grave goods. In the meantime, you look to the woman by the man. She’s short and frail in appearance, her clean, frilly lady’s dress in sharp contrast to the cold stone grounds around her. The knife that hangs from her hip is held by a ribbon–you note that the edge is lightly stained with a deep, dark hue. She continues to stare.

“Hmm? An eye for my daughter?” The merchant cuts in with a chuckles. “Well, she is about that age.. But her mind’s in a rather strange place, you see. A few trips too many down into the catacombs for grave goods, I presume..”
“You’d send your daughter to do your dirty work for you?” You narrow your eyes.

“Well, she’ll return to this shrine all the same, won’t she?” The merchant raises a brow. “And she’s a rather capable combatant, you know. Ah–speaking of–you’re on your way down, aren’t you? You know, I can hand over all these goods for free if you’d do me a favor..”

>Hear the man’s favor out.
>Purchase the man’s choir mask.
>Purchase the man’s silver rounds.
>Purchase his rations.
>Leave him alone. Go speak to the armored one.
>Write-In.

>>5197127
>Hear the man’s favor out.
Let's hear it out.

>>5197127
>>Hear the man’s favor out.
Free huh? Proceed.

>>5197127
>Hear the man’s favor out.

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>>5197130
>>5197161
>>5197166

>Hear the man’s favor out.

“..Very well.” You settle. “What do you propose?”

“Ah, well.. it’s a very simple favor–should be nothing for a proud nobleman of your kind.” He steeples his fingers. “My daughter, you see, is normally the one to retrieve my stock for me–she relieves bodies of their goods and whatnot on her trips through the block ahead. But she’s had a rather rough go of it lately; tends to come back with such few items these days.. I think it may be some kind of tough monster, or difficult trap. if you could just allow her to follow you through to the next block, I’ll allow you a few free items from my shop. What say you?”

>Agree to his offer.
>Deny him.
>Write-In.

>>5197189
>Agree to his offer.
Fair enough.

>>5197189
>Deny him.
He should do it, maybe that way he will appreciate the danger to which he is sending her.

plus, this smells like a trap.
even if you can "revive" in this place, I'm not sure if that aplies if you die of hunger

>>5197189
>>Agree to his offer.

>>5197189
>Write-In.
Give me your daughter instead.

>>5197189
>Agree to his offer.

>>5197189
>Agree to his offer.

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>>5197281
>>5197280
>>5197276
>>5197271
>>5197217
>>5197192

>Agree to his offer.

“..Very well.” You settle. You have some lingering doubts about the situation, but she’s just one frail girl; how much trouble could she be?
“Ah! Wonderful, wonderful. You can treat yourself to these,” He nods, scooping up the choir mask, the silver rounds, and the rations. “Here, here. You needn’t worry about her welfare–hell, you’ll hardly notice her. She can take care of herself.”
He nudges his daughter. She gently curtsies, her head still low. “..Pleased to make your acquaintance.” Her voice is cool and quiet. “You may call me Noelle. I am a handmaiden by trade.”

>Move on from the shrine. Two followers is more than enough.
>Speak to the armored one. Still brooding, still lonely.
>Speak to the dhampir. Maybe she can weigh in.
>Write-In.

>>5197337
>>Speak to the armored one. Still brooding, still lonely.

>>5197337
>Speak to the dhampir. Maybe she can weigh in.
I don't think we should try to get that many people so soon.