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/qst/ - Quests


Almost exactly sixteen years ago, in the Empire’s Old Hinterlands

Your name is Odovacar, and right now, you should be ecstatic, or content, at the very least. You have managed what seemed impossible – a clean break from the Inquisition with your woman. As far as they know, you were killed by highwaymen in a nighttime road robbery gone wrong while you were on your way to get your Socket inspected by that specialist Ophthalmos while she is still in Moevia. Ironically enough, you managed to “die” a hero, trying to keep sensitive equipment out of the hands of some thugs … who were actually just Arbogast and his wife, dressed for the part. Admittedly, when you first heard their part in the plan, you had your doubts. While the pair had managed their performance as Amalasuintha’s master and mistress well enough to fool the Inquisition, the idea of an older couple as bandits seemed almost farcical.

But Arbogast was not just some actor-as-window-dressing that Amalasuintha had to obfuscate herself, he was a Man-of-Arms, raised and trained by the same Coven that Amalasuintha had belonged to before it dissolved after the death of its leader. After a long conversation with the man, and a test of his strength, he managed to convince you – and when the time came, he did not disappoint. But the most incredible contribution to the entire job was Amalasuintha. If you had just disappeared, then there would have been questions. So she managed to make a true to life decoy. The thing looked just like you, even getting the geometry of the Socket housing correct. With the assistance of another construct, the decoy was even able to breathe – though beyond that it was dumb, deaf, mute and blind.

But it bled! After coach driver had been sent off, it was a struggle to get your Socket out of you and into the decoy so that Arbogast and his wife could shoot it while the drivers were still close enough to hear the shot. You all managed though; you are certain.

That said … helping your wife hold up a doppelganger of yourself so it could be shot was … well, it was Strange. Not the decoy, though. Amalasuintha assured you of that. After that deed was done, all there was left to do was to finish staging the scene, and for you to say your thanks and for your then-fiancé to say her goodbyes to the two “highwaymen”. Or rather, the highwayman and highwaywoman. Obviously, the pair was needed back in Moevia, otherwise the Inquisition might manage to make a connection between your “death” and the disappearance of persons of interest that you were charged with investigating.

You had thought that Amalasuntha would have been upset at having to leave them behind, but in spite of some tears at the departure, on the whole she was happy about it. Later she would explain that most departures in her life were more messy and less amicable, and with all evidence of magic removed from their house, Arbogast and his wife were now safe from the Inquisition.
>>
With all of your experience with the Inquisition, especially in light of your time in Nauretania, you would not go so far as to say that. Once someone is under suspicion, the Inquisition never really forgets about them, and sometimes, years after the initial investigation, someone in the chapterhouse will decide to beat the bushes a bit, and bring in old suspects for interrogation, for no other reason than to hopefully catch someone or something during a dry spell. Those interrogations run the gamut from simple conversations lasting a few hours or so to longer, much more serious affairs … with pharmaceutical and physical aids employed. After having been a participant in many, on both ends of the spectrum, you are not sure if the pair would be able to hold up under scrutiny, even if aids were not used.

But at the very least, Amalasuntha was right in assuming that they were at least safer from the Inquisition with her and all magical articles removed from the residence, so you saw no real reason to ruin your then-fiancé’s good cheer by casting doubts over their safety. Anyway, as far as you could tell, everything that could be done for them, had been done – so enough about them. As soon as the two of you had finished caching all of the equipment that you had been dispatched with by the Inquisition, you followed Amalasuintha deep into the woods. You are not sure exactly how she managed to find her way tired as she was – her role in preparing all of this had kept her busy for the past two days, with little time for sleep – but by the time the sun had risen, you were entering a small mining town called Vosta, high in the foothills of the Abeona Montes. As it so transpired that the day that you arrived in town happened to be a Titheday, Amalasuintha insisted on getting married that very day – in spite of looking ready to pass out at any minute.

So it transpired that a little more than twelve hours after your “death” you were getting married in a pauper’s ceremony. It also transpired that the two of you spent your first night as husband and wife sleeping the night through. Neither of those are what have ruined your mood, though. It was what happened when you were roused from sleep by your wife. When the first thing you saw in the early morning light filtering through the shutters was Amalasuintha’s eyes – her true, blank eyes – you recoiled. Recovering quickly from the raw surge of panic, you tried to pass it off as if she had startled you, though it was painfully obvious that it was her eyes that elicited that response. Before she could even apologize, you told her not to worry about it, and to continue to refrain from using the Scarification Glyphs to conceal them, as using them would shorten her life, at the approximate rate of half a second of glamor in exchange for a full second of life.
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That kind of response was embarrassing, and you wanted to do nothing more than put it behind you. But when she roused you from sleep the next day, and the day after that, you recoiled again. If anything, you were getting worse, not better. On the fourth day, she did not attempt to rouse you, and as you dressed yourself for the day, you tried to figure out why you were so thoroughly unmanned by the sight of those eyes. You had seen depictions of Strangers and Witches since you were a child, all of them with the blanked eyes, and they had never bothered you as they bothered other children. One of the reasons that you had been pushed towards joining the Inquisition in the first place was because it was obvious to the Testers that you had the nerve for it. And within a month of becoming a Half-Brother, you wound up participating in a Hunt that bagged a Stranger – one that was far enough gone that he was no longer able to speak. Seeing those glowing, beaming eyes was … unsettling to be sure, and afterwards, there had been some nightmares, but the eyes never played into those. In fact, if you remember, you never saw that Stranger in your nightmares – you just heard him.

All of those early nightmares played out similarly. You were in a house, a large house, all by yourself. It looked the interior of the house was light by moonlight, but all of the windows were shuttered up tight. You wanted to get out, but every door you went through would lead to another room – and the times that you tried to go back into a room that you left, you would find that there was a locked door behind you, even when there had been no door between the rooms just a moment before. And off in the distance, you could hear that Stranger. He was trapped in here as well, and it was only a matter of time before one of you ran into the other, trying to get out. Sometimes it sounded like he was a floor above you or below you, other times, it sounded as if he was right in the room with you. But no matter what, you never saw him.

Those nightmares eventually passed, and once you were sent to Nauretania, where you found that tracking and disposing of Strangers was preferable to your other responsibilities there, no new nightmares were forthcoming. You really didn’t need any though, as your waking hours were nightmarish enough. Once a Stranger has progressed past the point where curative custody could fix them, Strangers as basically just animals. No sense of right or wrong, or of honor, or of sportsmanship. If they are in a Frenzy, they will destroy just about everything they can in their territory. If they have a bout of Growth Hunger, then they will leave their territory, looking for things with a compatible Form to eat. Similarly, if they are in a Rut, then they will search for things with a compatible Form to breed with. As terrible as these behaviors might be, they are mindless, reflexive. Nothing more to them can be ascribed.
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Cultists, on the other hand, are men. Brutes perhaps, but still men. They knew exactly what they were doing. What they are still doing, considering that despite all of the effort spent and lives lost, they are basically unchecked in the southern Tributaries.

You don’t even want to think about it.

Still though, among those Cultists, there were Witches, and even Strangers, who by some means unknown to you were kept tame. They all had those eyes, and beyond simply being unsettling looking, you never really had such a response to them. And Amalasuintha – she had those eyes. When she showed them to you the first time, you didn’t even flinch, and you had seen them plenty of times since. So then, why exactly did seeing them that time in the morning get to you? And why does it seem to be getting worse, not better? It does not make sense. Once more, you rack your brain, but as the minutes pass, the only answer that comes to you is that your nerve is not as strong as you thought – which has occurred to you previously, and now, just as it was previously, it is not the answer that you want.

And truly, it is not an answer that you even believe that much. If you were really so weak as to be spooked by your wife’s eyes like that, then that weakness would surely have manifested somewhere else before now. Those early nightmares you got when you were starting out don’t count of course. Most everyone gets them bad at the start, and then they taper off as your duty hardens and inures you. As it stands, you have not dreamt of your first Stranger in years now.

And the fact that everyone gets the nightmares is not the only reason why you don’t hold them against yourself like you are holding this eye nonsense. It is one thing to get spooked in a dream, where nothing makes sense, and you have no real control over anything … but to be so thoroughly scared while waking, and by your own loving wife, too … it is not just embarrassing, it is disgusting. You are better than that. Stronger. At least, you thought you were.

With no good explanation for it, and no other recourse around it, you have started trying to wake up before Amalasuintha does – which works, of course, but the fact that you have to go to such great lengths galls you. She has not said anything about it, but she knows obviously, and that galls you even more. But you are seething exceptionally hard this morning because last night, you had a nightmare – the first one that you have had in a while, at least that you remember. It was stupid, but … you dreamt that you were back on that stretch of moonlit forest road, where Arbogast and his wife held up the coach. Everything was going fine, up until the moment that you realized that you needed to pull your Socket and install it into the decoy. Everyone just looked at you blankly, so you tried explaining why that was necessary for the deception … only for your wife to tell you that the Socket was already installed in the decoy.
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The doppelganger then rose up, its slack face obscured by that fleshy respirator construct gripping your double’s mouth, the dozen mouths of the respirator all on the ends of dangling, red, raw projections, all of them wheezing away, bouncing into each other as the doppelganger moved. You went to say something, to explain their mistake, but before you could get the words out, one of the mouths of the respirator somehow managed to find yours, and the cold, clammy meat-made lips of the construct clamped down on yours, in an angry aggressive kiss. You could actually taste the thing in the dream – cold flesh, stale blood, and more than a hint of the slimy decay you get with meat gone bad.

When you tried to pull it off, your double and your wife grabbed your arms, and held you up by the shoulders. In spite of the obstruction, you tried to speak anyway, but found that you couldn’t make any noise at all. As Arbogast and his wife readied their pistols, you tried one last time to explain their mistake, but when you turned to your wife, and saw her, staring past you, at your doppelganger, lovingly, with her true, blank eyes gleaming in the moonlight, you ended up trying to scream instead.

That was when you woke up.

Right now, you should be ecstatic, content – or at the very least, not ready to tear your hair out in frustration. Currently, you are in a cave, high in the Abeona Montes, on what might be the most comfortable bed roll in existence, underneath a bearskin, next to your completely naked wife. On an licentious impulse, you pull that bearskin off of her to get a good look at her. Her body is finally starting to show signs of her pregnancy – a slight swell in her otherwise toned stomach. If matrimony was not enough to keep her, then surely, a child would bind her to you forever.

And if all of this was not wonderful enough, the whole reason you are up in the Abeonas is that today is the day that you are going to learn how to fly. Your whole life, you have been dreaming of flying to the point that when you were younger, you would climb to precarious heights, in a bid to recapture some of that wonder in the waking world. A lifetime worth of dreams are going to be realized for you today, but at the moment, all you can think of is a lousy one-off nightmare … and your wife’s eyes.

You do you best to put all of this from you mind. For the past week, you have been learning the fundamentals of one particular School of Flight. Today, you will be putting those fundamentals into practice.

> Please choose ONE of the following:
> You have been learning how to levitate and fly with Glyphs
> You have been learning how to levitate and fly with Projection
> You have been learning how to operate flying constructs
>>
>Previous threads at https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=eternal+rome
>>
>>5340830
>You have been learning how to operate flying constructs
>>
>>5340830
What is Projection?
>>
>>5340868
Projection, sometimes called Shadow-Projection is a set of separate but similar schools to Shadow-Phasing. Shadow-Phasing allows for the properties of the caster's surroundings to be temporarily changed; as an example, a wall becomes see-through at a specific angle and only in one direction, or it becomes immaterial temporarily, allowing the caster - or anything else - to pass through it. Shadow-Projection on the other hand allows the consciousness of the caster to leave their body. Once they are separated, the caster's consciousness could Project themselves flying through the air, and they would see and feel everything that they would be if they were actually flying, though their body remains on the ground. At higher levels of this school it is possible to project yourself to specific spots at great range, project yourself through solid objects, and into the consciousness of others. It is even possible to temporarily create a Projected body out of Liquidized Miasma and use it to interact with the world, but that is only something that a master of the Projection schools would be able to pull off.
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>>5340830
> You have been learning how to operate flying constructs
this matches best with our dragon-making vote before. Welcome back trash!
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>>5340830
>> You have been learning how to levitate and fly with Glyphs
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>>5340830
> You have been learning how to levitate and fly with Projection
Jedi witch lets goooo!
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>>5340830
>> You have been learning how to levitate and fly with Projection
>>
Okay, so it is a tie between Projection and flying constructs. Obviously, I don't want to roll a tiebreaker for this, so I will leave this up a little longer.
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>>5340830
You mind illuminating me on how the other two (Glyphs and Constructs) function and operate? I’m sort of favoring Projection, but that only because I have a solid idea school of magic from the info dump compared to the other two.
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>You have been learning how to levitate and fly with Glyphs
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>>5342351
Okay, so Glyphs come in two types: Inked or Scarified. Inked Glyphs carry the fuel for their magic in their Ink. Once the Ink is consumed, the cast concludes. Scarified Glyphs use the caster as fuel for their magic, though this comes at the cost of shortening the lifespan of the caster at some approximately constant rate. Flight Glyphs would work almost exactly like the other Glyphs we have seen in the Quest so far, with the caster concentrating, the initiation of the spell and the spell running. The only difference is that these Glyphs would be Inked, so they would eventually run out of fuel, though as they were Scrivened by someone who knows what she is doing, Odovacar is not in any real danger of falling out of the sky.

On the other hand, a construct refers to anything that has been made (at least in part) by magic. While most of what anyone would think of as a construct is also magical itself, this is not actually a requirement. In this case, the flying construct is a "Broom" - which is a general term for any flying, rideable construct primarily made out of wood. The one that would be used if this choice was taken was made from a chimney sweep, and is appropriately called the Chimney Swift - after the bird of the same name. More than that, this is the War-Broom (a Broom with some offensive capability) that Amalasuintha used to incapacitate the Mitigator - the one that was Mitigated and butchered, to provide the spine for the Life-Loom.

If you or anyone else has any other questions, please, just ask.
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>>5340830
>> You have been learning how to levitate and fly with Glyphs
>>
Okay, closed and writing.
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When you tried to cover Amalasuintha back up with the bearskin, she woke up – and between your frustration with this complex that you have developed about her eyes and your genuine eagerness to get into the air, you decided to get an early start for the day. Once the two of had breakfasted, and Amalasuintha had grabbed her haversack, her Broom and her Flight-Jerkin, you made your way together out of the cave and towards the mountain lake. Less than a minute after starting your decent, you were standing on the lake’s sandy shore. As per your wife’s instructions, you had not bothered getting dressed beyond stockings and boots, as you would need to strip at least to the waist anyways to safely accommodate the Glyphs, considering that these were just going to be inked on top of your skin.

Several pleasant minutes pass, standing stock still in the sun, as you wife delicately Scrivens the Glyphs on to you, with her face close enough that you can feel her breath on your skin. Once she is finally done with the brush, she takes another handful of minutes meticulously checking her work over, even going as far as to Scriven her own finger, so she can test the Glyph herself, making sure that it all activates properly, that the fuel is being drawn from the spindly fuel clauses that run down your arms, not the main body of the Glyph on your back, or the control clauses on your shoulder blades and on the backs of your hands. All of this is done in silence, as you do not want to distract her, though once she is satisfied that everything is Scrivened together properly, she tests you on all of this one last time.

“ … then, there is the risk of entering into a Strange Fever. If that were to happen, then what would be the first sign of it?”

“If the spell’s performance inexplicably improves.”

“Alright, but why would it improve?”

“Partially because it is the nature of Strange Fever to make casting easier, and partially because the Fever would be ‘cooking’ the Ink from the Glyph to power the Glyph at a faster and more efficient rate then the fuel clauses burn. The issue there is that the Fever is ‘cooking’ the entire Glyph, instead of just the fuel clause, so it will fail much quicker.”

“Besides falling out of the sky like the Piece, are there any other signs that you have entered into Fever?”

“The Noise. But waiting to hear the Noise is risky, because it might be quiet enough that you cannot hear it over the wind.”

“Good, though there is also a slim chance that no Noise is made. What about Miasma?”

“Miasma could indicate that you have entered into the Fever, but with all of the fuel that this spell requires, even a Witchlet could end up venting.”

“Is it possible to make an Ink that will not be ‘cooked’ during a Strange Fever?”
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“Ah … I think so. If you were able to get some Ink that had a burning point that was higher than the body that it was Scrivened on, then you could say that it was Fever-proof, but the caster would just start cooking all the sooner.”

“Good. Now, here is a puzzler for you. Can you make a Fever-friendly flight Glyph? Where entering into Strange Fever not just improves the performance of the Glyph, but actually lets it run longer?”

“Uh … well, if you are asking, I would have to assume that it is possible, but … to be honest, I can’t think of how that would work.”

“I can honestly say that you know enough about Glyphs and the Strange Fever to figure it out. Maybe it will come to you once you are in the air.”

With that your wife kisses you, positioning herself very deliberately, so to not muss up the Glyphs. Now it is time to fly!

>Fuel Remaining: 2200/2200

>Please, one roll of 1d100!

>Critical Success: DC 99 and higher. Like a leaf on the wind. You burn just 20 fuel to initialize the spell and get off of the ground. You also get a bonus to your efficiency for the rest of your flight.
>Complete Success: DC 43 and higher. Like a bolt of lightning! You burn just 100 fuel to initialize the spell and get off of the ground. You also get a bonus to your speed for the rest of your flight.
>Partial Success: DC 23 and higher. Like a ... Witch! You burn 500 fuel to initialize the spell and get off of the ground.
>Partial Failure: DC 22 and lower. Sort of like a Witch. You burn 1000 fuel to initialize the spell and barely get off of the ground. You get a penalty on the next maneuver you attempt.
>Complete Failure: DC 12 and lower. You burn 1000 fuel to initialize the spell and ... it doesn't work. Try again.
>Catastrophic Failure: DC 6 and lower. You try to initialize the spell and ... all you manage to do is discharge all of the fuel at once, giving you a few first degree burns in the process.
>Critical-Catastrophic Failure: DC 2 and lower. You try to initialize the spell and ... get ten feet off of the ground before discharging all of the fuel at once, giving you a few first degree burn before you belly flop into the lake.
>>
>A little more on Glyphs: In addition to the main body of the Glyph, or the part of the Glyph that actually initializes the spell, there are two types of clauses required here. These are control clauses, typically located on the back of the hands, the chest, and the back, to allow the spell to be steered, and fuel clauses, which are responsible for powering the spell after initialization. The more sprawling the fuel clauses are, the longer that the spell can last, though there is a real danger of Scrivening the fuel clauses too large, or Scrivening too many fuel clauses.

>This is not a passive Glyph, like the ones that Chlotsuintha has been using. It requires constant input from the caster, or it will stall out and fail. It is technically possible to write a Glyph like this in a passive form, requiring only directional inputs, but that is dangerous for powerful Glyphs like this, as if something went wrong with the cast, or the Glyph got damaged, or the Glyph was not working as expected or intended, then the caster does not have the level of control that he would if the Glyph was written passively. He would have to decide to either keep it running or cut it off completely – which for a flying Glyph is terrible dangerous, for obvious reasons.

>Every second the spell is active, fuel from the fuel clause is being used. The amount of fuel consumed at any one moment depends on what the caster is attempt to do, and how well the caster is controlling the cast. Measured separately from the fuel is the speed, altitude, and relative position, all of which are used to determine if it is possible to perform a maneuver. Finally, there is longevity and condition. Standard Ink will remain in a functional condition for six to eight hours after being applied, and the Glyph functioning properly depends on the actual Glyph itself not getting mussed or wiped away.

>Additionally, Amalasuintha is right. You - as players - now know enough about Glyphs and Strange Fever to design a hypothetical Glyph that is Fever-friendly. Take as many guesses as you like, and if you get it right by the time that this interlude ends, I'll will make it worth your while.
>>
>With a little focus, any magic user can temporarily strengthen their connection to their Form, allowing them to perform feats of magic that they would not be able to otherwise. There are of course, serious drawbacks to this, the biggest being that this connection requires fuel - and that is separate from whatever they need to perform whatever spell they are attempting. They will basically start consuming the most readily available fuel that they are in direct contact with - either magical fuel, like fuel nodules, or mundane stuff like oil or wood. If nothing like that is available, then they will consume anything that will burn at all, which includes equipment and clothes that have not been proofed against fire. Once they work through that, then caster will start to cook themselves, slowly raising their body temperature well past the point hyperthermia to fatal levels. Hence the name, Strange Fever. If nothing disrupts them, they will continue to cook after they fall unconscious, right up to the point that they die.

>It should be noted that the state of Strange Fever only refers to the point when the caster is cooking themselves - typically you have about a minute and a half before you are risking permanent damage, and another thirty seconds before you are risking unconsciousness. One of the things that sets a Witchlet apart from a Witch is that a Witch has demonstrated their ability to safely and stably use fuel sources to strengthen their connection to their Form for prolonged periods of time without slipping into Strange Fever once. Those non-Strange Fever states have names and statuses as well, but Chlotsuintha is simply not strong enough yet to reach them.

>Despite the power that it affords, Strange Fever is a dangerous and thoroughly inconvenient state. Even if Chlotsuintha is not able to harness power from fuel (and by fuel, I mean burnable substances) that does not mean that she wont start burning it when she enters Strange Fever. You also have to be naked, or at the very least, wearing fireproof or fire-resistant clothes (wool doused in water or fire retardant, something like that), or you risk burning yourself as your clothes are consumed - so it is not something that can be used in combat typically. You will also vent Miasma, a byproduct of the Firmament itself heating up in a specific area. It does not spread Strangeness, but it is visible to everyone with any magical ability, including those who are just latently magical. It is also dangerous to inhale a lot of it so you need to either enter the state while you are in a ventilated area, or you need to keep moving - though if you do move, you are more likely to make Noise, which is another byproduct of messing with the Firmament. Imagine if a steam whistle could scream in agony, and you have a pretty good idea of what it sounds like. The caster hears the Noise as if it was in the distance, but everyone else hears it as if it was coming straight from the caster.
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Rolled 56 (1d100)

>>5342984
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You close your eyes just for a moment. When you open them, you take one great big breath, your bare chest heaving - and then you start the cast, reaching out to the Glyphs, reaching into them.

Suddenly, you are awash in heat, as if you were standing right in front of a furnace. It is hot, but bearable. There is a bit of an ache as well, but it is a good, satisfied ache, as if a massive invisible hand was tenderly pulling on the control clauses of the Glyph. You focus on them for just a second, and then, before you can even realize it, your feet have left the ground, and with a surprising burst of speed, you are climbing up into the sky.

It is insane, really. All of this. You are too scared about stalling out to get emotional, but ... this is really happening. This is - you are flying! You are in the air, flying! It is crazy, just how close your dreams were to this.

>Fuel Remaining: 2100/2200
>Altitude: looks to be 40 feet or so
>Speed: anywhere from 20 to 30 knots
>Relative Position: n/a

>Please choose ONE of the following:
>Why don't you double back to the shore, see if Amalasuintha wants to race you around the lake.
>There looks to be a small flock of ducks not too far away, why don't you go try to catch lunch?
>You want to see how fast you can go!
>You want to see how high you can go!
>>
I don't suppose the answer to Amalatsuintha's riddle is as simple as designing an Inked Glyph, which would burn from the caster's lifespan by design and so would not destroy itself in order to continue flying. You would still be increasing your body temperature and cooking though I think...I'm just spitballing that you have sufficient lifespan to make a Flight spell last longer, even if it's through a bad outcome.
>>5343043

>There looks to be a small flock of ducks not too far away, why don't you go try to catch lunch?
This seems amusing and Odovacar's getting a bit too big for his britches. I bet some experienced fliers should put him in his place!
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>>5343133
Er, not an Inked Glyph, I mean a scarified one.
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>>5343043
>You want to see how high you can go!

Get high.
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>>5343133
Hmm ... while I was thinking about an Inked Glyph as opposed to a Scarification Glyph, I suppose I never specified that. And entering into Strange Fever while using a Scarification Glyph would improve the rate that you got with it ... which sort of works because that means that you could run it longer, because you would be alive longer ... but it also sort of doesn't work. And unfortunately, if I explained why it wouldn't work, I would be effectively giving you the answer to the puzzler.

So I guess you get that clue; figure out why Strange Fever won't actually extend the duration of a Scarification Glyph (like the ones that Chlotsuintha has been using throughout the Quest) and you will be within striking distance of the answer. And if you or no one else is able to come up with the right answer, at the very least, you deserve partial credit for this showing. Chlotsuintha will get something out of this.
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>>5343237
Guessing time. Strange fever incites a localized speeding up of time. This aspect of a Witches' form hungers for the Witch's youth and the youth of all things nearby. This causes a kind of friction from time speeding up that both corrodes items and burns them through friction. This could be circumvented by powering the glyphs to feed on either hunger itself, the Form of elderness, or perhaps on spacetime(very Langoliers) which would create a pull but might have side effects like forward time travel. Tungsten tattoo Runes.

Or.

Program the runes to feed off of heat itself generated by Strange Fever. You might want a winter coat in case you get cold. Tungsten tattoo runes again? Time dilation again.

.
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>>5343043
>There looks to be a small flock of ducks not too far away, why don't you go try to catch lunch?
lol
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>>5343043
>>There looks to be a small flock of ducks not too far away, why don't you go try to catch lunch?
>>
>>5343043
>There looks to be a small flock of ducks not too far away, why don't you go try to catch lunch?

I’ll take a poke at it. First you’d need to configure the glyph to efficiently burn the type of fuel that we’re using (in this case our body, or specifically our cells), cause I imagine a regular glyph focused on conventional fuel (ink) is processed differently, and that waste heat (or the energy converted into heat during the fuel burning process) is causing the fuel (in this case, the body) to burn inefficiently, meaning more fuel is burnt at a faster rate. With a faster rate, more waste heat, the Miasma, is created, which is why the body starts overcooking, no place to vent the heat. You could probably create a glyph specialized in venting the waste heat away from the body, potentially into more Miasma if it’s just magical heat (fifth dimensional heat?), and not the byproduct of your body (thread? soul?) burning out into the Firmament itself. Once you get the energy waste down, you go longer, burn less hot, and get more bang for your buck per calorie (assumed magical fuel source) burned.

Maybe it’s also possible to create some sort of sticky grease/oil of converted animal fat/efficient fuel, and rub it/using that as an alternative ink glyph/fuel source? Or if we want to go full body horror we could potentially create a specialized tank within our body to store more fuel (possibly specialized fuel), to keep the glyph going longer without resorting to the body as a fuel source (I imagine you’d have to create a specialized venting system/heat sink in the body itself if you went down that route though).

Was that decent?
>>
>>5343724
Also (assuming the Faith isn’t right, and the Patternmaker didn’t create Strangeness to test, punish, teach, fuck with, or some combination of the above to humanity, and not assuming he did it for the lolz), it’s possible that magic was concentrating/polluting this hypothetical fifth dimension, and it eventually reached such a concentration/breaking point that it started backing up and bleeding into our world, resulting in the sudden spontaneous appearance of Strangeness everywhere at once and the resulting magical collapse and backlash against magic. If you want to get real wild, maybe instead of magical radiation Strangeness is instead a magical industrial pollutant, that when concentrated, burns a hole though the Firmament itself and becomes another leak for the magical byproduct of/from this hypothetical fifth dimension to spread into, thus creating Second and Third Degree Strangeness. There would also be a question whether this fifth dimension is dispelling this byproduct by itself at a much slower natural rate than the rate of production, or whether we’re in the fifth dimensional equivalent of a pool with the Strangeness finally reaching out and flooding our plain of existence instead.

This is assuming that I ain’t talking out of my ass and that the Patternmaker does have something to do with it, because he totally has the ability to change and bend reality at his leisure and the sapience to impose his will on reality in an intelligent design.
>>
>>5343724
>>5343766
You are close enough to what I had in mind that I'll count it! Congratulations!

Now, for the ducks. First there is the question of the angle of attack. Increasing your height provides you with more options, but will consume more fuel, especially if you attempt to maintain or increase your speed while you do it. Contrarily, decreasing your height will lower the rate that you are consuming your fuel, and you will pick up speed in the process simply from gravity - the issue is that getting close to the water prevents you from performing a number of maneuvers. Not to mention that there are times that you might not want to pick up speed as you decrease your height, and doing this will actually require more fuel. Maintaining altitude is a middle of the road option. All maneuvers are possible at this height, though if you are planning on diving down on those ducks sooner rather than later, you are not leaving yourself a large margin of error.

>Please choose ONE of the following:
>Gain altitude while accelerating
>Gain altitude while maintaining speed
>Gain altitude without maintaining speed
>Gain altitude while decelerating
>Maintain altitude while accelerating
>Maintain altitude while maintaining speed
>Maintain altitude while decelerating
>Drop altitude while accelerating
>Drop altitude without accelerating
>Drop altitude while maintaining speed
>Drop altitude while decelerating
>>
Hmmm. What if this has something to do with Lifting Oil.
>>
>>5343799
>>Gain altitude while maintaining speed
I'm thinking of this like a dogfight where it's always better to be above your target.
>>
>>5343799
>Gain altitude while accelerating
If Top Gun taught me anything...
>>
>>5343799
>Gain altitude while maintaining speed
Well, nice to know I was in the right ballpark at least, thanks!

>>5343800
Sort of what I had in mind with the alternative grease/animal fat/fuel thing, problem it how would that make it Fever-friendly, or improves the performance of the glyph. Fighting the natural Lifting Oil uplift would be frustrating if we wanted to maintain or decrease altitude, unless we can use a glyph to change the directional push at will.
>>
>>5343799
>Drop altitude while accelerating
do like the eagle
>>
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I'm an idiot. All of this time, I was waiting for a tiebreaker, only to realize that gain altitude while maintaining speed had the majority.

>Fuel Remaining: 2100/2200
>Altitude: looks to be 40 feet or so
>Speed: anywhere from 20 to 30 knots
>Relative Position: on approach to duck flock

>Please, one roll of 1d100!

>Critical Success: DC 99 and higher. Up, to get at 'em! You burn 7 fuel to get yourself into your desired position while maintaining speed.
>Complete Success: DC 43 and higher. Steady and Ready! You burn 70 fuel to get yourself into your desired position while maintaining speed.
>Partial Success: DC 23 and higher. Sort of Steady, Still Ready! You burn 140 fuel to get yourself into your desired position while barely maintaining your speed.
>Partial Failure: DC 22 and lower. Not Steady, Sort of Ready. You burn 560 fuel to get yourself ... higher, but noticeably short of where you intended, and you have lost speed.
>Complete Failure: DC 12 and lower. Swan Dive! You burn 560 fuel ... but all you manage to do is stall yourself. You will have to reinitialize spell.
>Catastrophic Failure: DC 6 and lower. Swan Song! You burn 1680 fuel ... but all you manage to do is stall yourself. You will have to reinitialize the spell.
>Critical-Catastrophic Failure: DC 2 and lower. Dead Over the Water. You discharge all of the fuel at once, giving you a few first degree burns in the process, adding insult to injury as you fall into the lake.

Good luck!
>>
Rolled 82 (1d100)

>>5344254
>>
>Fuel Remaining: 2030/2200
>Altitude: looks to be 60 feet or so
>Speed: anywhere from 20 to 30 knots
>Relative Position: above the ducks

Okay, now all that is left is to work out the details of the attack. Basically, there are two ways to start things off - either a low pass over the water to scatter them, so a slower one could be identified and chased down, or things could be brought to a head right now by attempting to dive at and grab one of the ducks. The faster the dive, the better the odds of both catching a duck ... as well as crashing into the lake.

>Please choose ONE of the following:
>Sweep low while accelerating to scatter the ducks
>Sweep low while maintaining speed to scatter the ducks
>Sweep low while decelerating to scatter the ducks
>Dive at the ducks while accelerating
>Dive at the ducks without accelerating
>Dive at the ducks while maintaining speed
>Dive at the ducks while decelerating
>>
>>5344919
>Dive at the ducks while accelerating

do as the eagle
>>
Good job anon! You figured it out where I (partially) failed
>>5344919
>>Dive at the ducks while accelerating
Odovacar could reasonably be carried away by the sudden achievement of having his dream fulfilled
>>
>>5344919
>>Dive at the ducks while accelerating
>>
>>5344919
>Dive at the ducks without accelerating
Natural Gravity will help accelerate our descent.
https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=6zT4Y-QNdto
>>
>>5344919
>>Dive at the ducks while accelerating
>>
Alright, consider this closed. Before I let the backlog get away from me, I will write all off this up.
>>
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You had been warned that the more aggressive the angles of flight, the more strain that the caster would experience – from both the spell and the actual physical act of flying. You had intended to make a gradual ascent, but the spell had just activated so easily you had been in the air and climbing before you had even realized it, so you were not able to take the gentle upward approach that you should have.

But even with the unexpectedly abrupt and powerful start, you feel in control. The heat pouring off of the Glyphs and the strain at the sites of the control clauses is uncomfortable, through manageable. More importantly, you are not making any Noise, and while you can see some whisps of Miasma, even with your limited knowledge of magical matters, you are confident that you are not Feverous. Still, out of an abundance of caution, you taper down your ascent until the heat and strain subsides and you are flying parallel over the mirror surface of the lake. Looking down, you can actually see your reflection on the water. After a wheezy chuckle at the sight of your airborne body – nude, save for stockings and boots – you turn your attention to your surroundings.

As you continue out over the lake, you notice that by a small island straight ahead of you, there appears to be a small flock of ducks bobbing in and out of the water. On an impulse, you decide that the best test of this Glyph – and your ability to use it – would be to use it to catch one of those ducks for lunch. You take as deep of a breath as you can, and then you rise. The moment you start climbing again, the strain is back, though this time it does not seem as harsh as it was before, presumably because this time the angle of ascent is much more modest, and you are not trying to accelerate – not yet at least.

By the time you are sixty feet off of the surface of the lake in your estimation, you are positioned as well as you are going to be. Already, you can see some of the ducks reacting to your presence. In a matter of moments, they will all be in the air. For a split second, you consider letting them take flight, and then trying to chase them down, but you decide against it. Making a tight dive – while accelerating – will be a real test of your abilities, and your best bet for catch one ... though you do run the risk of seriously hurting yourself if something goes wrong.
>>
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>Please, one roll of 1d100!

>Critical Success: DC 99 and higher. What is the Bush Exchange Rate? You burn 10 fuel, and miraculously manage to come away with a bird in each hand!
>Complete Success: DC 50 and higher. Doomed Duck. You burn 8 fuel, and somehow manage to get your hands around the neck of a duck on your first try.
>Partial Success: DC 40 and higher. Dead in the Water. You burn 80 fuel and make a grab at a duck. You miss, but in the process, you stun it.
>Partial Failure: DC 39 and lower. Birds and Fools of a Feather. You burn 400 fuel and make a clumsy grab at a duck, but all you get is a few feathers.
>Complete Failure: DC 19 and lower. Fools without Feathers. You burn 400 fuel and make a really clumsy grab, and you don’t even get a feather to show for it.
>Catastrophic Failure: DC 9 and lower. Fools without Right Hands. You burn 400 fuel, make a clumsy grab, and somehow manage to smack your hand on a branch of a half-submerged log. Fight through the pain to stay in the air, or you might get hurt worse!
>Critical-Catastrophic Failure: DC 2 and lower. Nearly Dead Drake. The strain of the dive is too much for you to handle after all. You discharge all of the fuel at once and plow into the lake at full speed, prematurely ending the outing.
>>
Rolled 3 (1d100)

>>5347622
honey I brought dinner
>>
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or not
>>
>>5347726
;_;
>>
>>5347726
Oh dear
>>
>>5347622
Don't Fission Mailed on me.
>>
Not optimal, by any stretch of the imagination, but it could be a lot worse. Anyway, I will get to writing as soon as I can.
>>
Well the good thing is we literally cannot die
>>
>>5348747
Or CAN we? Dun dun dun!
>>
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Before you angle your head down for the dive you see that all of the ducks below have managed to rear themselves out of the water at this point. If you do not hurry, then they are going to be in the air and scattered before you get down there! You push yourself into the dive, accelerating all the while, and once more, you feel as if you were wearing the heat from a blast furnace as a mantle. Your arms are out in front of you, and you can see the Miasma billowing off of them. Worse than that, you can smell it – which means that you are breathing it in, at least a little of it. Concerned – but not panicking, certainly not panicking – you clamp your mouth shut, and you hold your breath.

The smell slips away, hauled off by your increasingly speedy descent towards the water and waterfowl below, but that particular whiff lingers a little. Amalasuintha explained to you particularly that the metallic smell of Miasma smells metallic – and it did in fact for a fact smell like a smell that smelt as if it was made of metal, and definitely not something that was made of something that was not metal, such as fish. It had been expected by you that the smell that was not not metal but was in fact not fish and not many other things would be joined at the hip – the proverbial hip, of course, as no scent known to you is in possession of a pelvis – would be unpleasant, though you were pleasantly wrong.

Maybe what had possibly been whiffed was not Miasma before or after all – as it is not know to you in practice but only in theory. For all you know, which is in neither practice nor theory, you could have smelled the Ink, which could have also been made of something that smelled, assuming hot, like a smell that smelt as if it was metallic and not definitely something made that was to not, never be confused with fish. Perhaps, as known to no known theory and theory in or out of practice to be Miasma or metal or fish or ducks, who are fish race-traitors, to be confused with metal, the whiff should be smelt once several times to be of determination made presently as diving and speed of in increasing importance, lake water soon. Yes, whiff the now, water the later as –

Shit! Was side length of affected effect caused to by the inflammation of Miasma from of nostril up into? Pulsate come pulsating behavior related to of the nature of whiffing more higher quantity possible quality of Miasma into system spiral effect compound bad nature to worse nature. Focus much! Focus now very much! Water very much, very near, very soon! Too soon, water near – ducks still near, but water nearer! Nadir which not near top or middle nor not even elsewhere in relation to pieces of mountain regardless of lake is in the flight flying at this moment, moving lake water – not sea water, or fish water, though admit to in totality is duck water, definitely not Odovacar water – near pull haul someone who is neither on or in water not belonging but near water, now very now!
>>
>>5349925
Odovacar you idjeet!
>>
Very now becomes now now, and lift increasing fly no longer more dive now good. Less of not more speed is soon at the moment needed! Level! Slow! Level! Heat moment mantle more increasing to point of load of heat, much of heat – possibly but not known in practice or in practice to be in actually sizzle-snap burn on Ink, or much less even sizzle-snap burn on not-Ink, which is cases such as skin, potentially none or one or more degrees, not advised never. Speed much, too now, lower slow needed! Hot and not speed! Level! Leveling! Level and slow! Moving water, which is of nature of lake, no longer nature of duck – air now nature of duck, evidence of treason to fish – is now now. Risk wet mantle on top of heat mantle – danger! Glyph will wilting spurted sprinting running run with water, regardless of nature.

Hands, belonging to neither mountain, nor lake, not water, or ducks, fish too, are in out outstretched positive, decent positive position for the flight flying the undertaking which is now now, very now, not very now, and perhaps still soon now, assuming self saved safely. Hands, belonging, to now no more grabbing, still must decent position be in previously after aforementioned – even without regard to of the catching of ducks, as water no longer has that piece particle natural nature. Sweeping low, dive nadir in relation to nadir in relation to sweeping dive, which is no longer. Now climb –

Water which is nodular – no nodes for ducks, possible nodes for fish. Climb is now now, but no known node is not above in on under the water, which is unclear. Approaches. Fingers which are for grabbing and thumbs which are for grabbing the grabbed must remain in decided position otherwise control of whiffing fly flight is no not anymore level. Bottom of nadir of dive which is now not bottom, not nadir but also now not either level, climbing has to have must the grabbers in the positive, otherwise less no none control falls. Too dangerous! Now no node is unknown, known now node to be wet trying tree! Must grabber now immediately now move, though now must not move control bad but control not worse, has must stay course, water spirt speed at this nature prefixes preliminary close, near almost now now, is danger death. Must move none! No now none! Damn whiffs! Never not again, remove nose to preclude whiffing again! Now must brave and brace, must now now!

PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN!
>>
>Do the pleasure of the dice doing one of the 10 by 10
>Critical Success: DC 99 and higher. Dandy is the Drake. Burning just 30 fuel, you manage to work through the Miasma and the pain, and get yourself under control once more.
>Success being full: DC half 10 by 10, then more ten and more. High Flying. Gone is burnt 30 fuel, less 6. PAIN PAIN becomes pain, and flying is once less dangerous.
>Successful being not full. DC half of 10 by 10, then less 10 and more. In Danger Drake. Gone gone is 300 fuel, less 60. PAIN PAIN becomes Pain Pain, and flying is still to be danger, but better.
>Failure being not full. DC half of 10 by 10, then less 10, less 1, and less. Damaged is Drake. No more now gone is 1200 fuel. PAIN PAIN remains PAIN PAIN, flying is still as danger – but now less near water, less with speed.
>Failure being in full. DC half of 10 by 10, then less 10, then half, less 1, and less. Drake is Damaged. No more now gone is 1200 fuel. PAIN PAIN remains PAIN PAIN, flying is still danger danger, and as still more near water, less climb, less with speed.
>Failure being really full. DC half of 10 by 10, then less 10, then half, then half, less 1, and less. Doom is Drake. No more now gone is 1200 fuel.PAIN PAIN danger near, now no climb, why now dive? Dive not now!
>Failure being really fraying full. DC 10 by 10, then less 10 by 10 less two, and less. Damned Drake is Doom. Spell Glyph INK gone, Water here, Speed here. PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN!
>>
>>5350471
You...ok?
>>
Rolled 14 (1d100)

>>5350471
>>
>>5350539
Probably not
>>
>>5350471
I think this may be the consequence of PAIN PAIN, thought if it isn’t you should get some sleep Trash.

10 by 10 is 10 times 10, meaning a hundred, and then further addition or subtraction is required.

>Critical Success: DC 99 and higher. Dandy is the Drake.
>Success: DC 60 or more. High Flying.
>Partial Success: DC 40 or more. In Danger Drake.
>Partial Failure: DC 39 or less. Damaged is Drake.
>Failure: 19 and less. Drake is Damaged.
>Significant Failure: DC 9 and less. Doom is Drake.
>Critical Failure: DC 2 or less. Damned Drake is Doom.

This does convince me that magic is too unreliable and dangerous to be considered productive, given the fickle nature of the dice. I feel a stronger kinship with our fellow Leapers now, clearly magical ability is a terminal disease.

>>5350540
>14
What fun.
>Failure: 19 and less. Drake is Damaged.
1200 fuel spent. Extreme pain is still present, flying is extremely dangerous, still very close to the water, slow climbing with less speed.
Mother will probably have to raise Father from the dead if the Dice RNG continues to be shit. I was expecting a cringy but happy tale of dreams coming true, not the going horror that we probably killed our Father before Chlot was ever born.
>>
>Failure being in full. DC half of 10 by 10, then less 10, then half, less 1, and less. Drake is Damaged. No more now gone is 1200 fuel. PAIN PAIN remains PAIN PAIN, flying is still danger danger, and as still more near water, less climb, less with speed.

>>5350539
I'm fine. Odovacar, on the other hand ...

>>5350541
Well, things could be much worse. We still have fuel left, and we have begun to slow down and climb, though we are still moving dangerously fast, dangerously close to the water. If we screw up the next roll, there could be some serious repercussions for Chlotsuintha in the future. I'll get to writing soon.
>>
>>5350622
Lmao. Is this the first time a flash back kills?
>>
>>5350616
>This does convince me that magic is too unreliable and dangerous to be considered productive, given the fickle nature of the dice. I feel a stronger kinship with our fellow Leapers now, clearly magical ability is a terminal disease.
Keep in mind that this was Odovacar's first flight, and one of first attempts at any magic. Furthermore, what preparation he had previous to this attempt was purely theoretical. Amalasuintha saw how badly he wanted to fly, and desperate to please (a whole other pot of worms) she let him get in the air much too early. Additionally, this is a specific danger inherent to Glyphs - when something goes wrong, the brunt of it is felt by whatever - or whoever - is bearing the Glyphs.

>>5350626
>Lmao. Is this the first time a flash back kills?
One way or another, Odovacar is not going to die here. Though if he does hit the water at the speeds he is going at, Amalasuintha is going to have save him - and the way that she would do it, means that I would have to dip into her backstory earlier than I planned.

>>5350616
>I was expecting a cringy but happy tale of dreams coming true, not the going horror that we probably killed our Father before Chlot was ever born.
You probably shouldn't expect that with Odovacar. Time and time again, things just go wrong for him - especially when they seem to be going right for once. I won't go into details, but even if he had managed to catch the duck and learned how to fly, this outing was not going to end on a happy note.
>>
>>5350622
Dang man I was all "Oh crap TrashQM was an AI all along?!"
>>
>>5350645
Still doesn’t help the fact that magic has caused literally all of our problems for fuck all gain, at least it feels like it. If it wasn’t for Father’s Legacy, I probably would vote to leave magic behind, the cost:benefit ratio isn’t encouraging and that’s without RNG getting dysentery with our rolls.

>Though if he does hit the water at the speeds he is going at, Amalasuintha is going to have save him - and the way that she would do it, means that I would have to dip into her backstory earlier than I planned.
Litch magic, calling it now. Explains the obsession with graverobbing bodies, he’s looking for spare parts like Frankenstein. Fucking necromancers, amirite?

>You probably shouldn't expect that with Odovacar. Time and time again, things just go wrong for him - especially when they seem to be going right for once.
I wasn’t expecting a 100% happy run with Father, he’s raising his daughter by himself in a Leaper colony while being hunted down and prosecuted by the Gestapo, but I was hoping for some levity to contrast with the extremely stressful shit Chlot herself is going through, it’s why I voted for Odo to complete his childhood dream instead of the Inquisition run in.

>>5350686
Nah, Trash clearly has xeno origins, because the writing is out of this world.
>>
>>5350921
You think she is a Mountaineer, huh? Maybe.
>>
>>5351123
Mountaineer?
>>
>>5352532
I think thats the term for Witches who ressurrect the dead. Probably borrowed from the concept of "hell" in this setting being the top of a mountain, if I remember right which is eeeeeh.
>>
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Now now becomes after now, and lift still little increasing. Is little good. Water is distancing. That big good. Speed is slowing. Sorting sort half good. On grabber of other, the grabber is PAIN still - pieces that which remain of grabber, to be into the precision. Near upcoming - only possibly - new problem though. If Miasma, which spiral bad nature to worse nature, vents now now, then speed slowing might mean that more whiffing is done. Possible that worse nature becomes terminal nature if whiffing continues. Optional are available, neither good nor pleasant. Optional one; slow the speed and attempt the land, accepting risk of further whiffing. Optional two; make unto the terminal nature - for the spell, not for the Odovacar - dropping into the below water, safe? Optional three; make the maintenance of speed and the heightening of height, and go look for woman-Witch-wife Amalasuintha to do the help. Decision make now now, breath holding no whiffing is hard, getting harder!

>Do the pleasure of the ONE optional:
>Attempt the land
>Do the fall
>Find the wife
>>
>>5353576
>pieces that which remain of grabber
Jesus, did we really rip off parts of our hand there?
>Attempt the land
This is going to end poorly no matter what, might as well finish this proper.
>>
>>5353576
>Find the wife
help us witch mommy!
>>
>>5353576
>>Find the wife
>>
>>5353576
>>Find the wife
HALP
>>
>>5353576
>>Attempt the land
>>
>>5353576
>>Find the wife
>>
Okay, consider this closed. I'll get to writing.
>>
Wew lad, I'm back to /qst/ after half a year and this quest is going strong. Time to brave the archives
>>
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Attempt the land is of being nature relation to dangerous. As of the fall, by nature of height and speed and PAIN PAIN PAIN. Possibly presently at this to be presumed outcome with best to say not worse nature would be to fine find woman-Witch-wife, who has much knowledge in of the excess of Odovacer, who has not much knowledge in such affairs as fall flying, landing flying and not taking things from the whiffing which leads spiral effect compound bad nature to worse nature when making the flight.

Notice at now the response of the Glyphs are feeling less to less responsive, responding positively though presently poorly. That which this is indicates that signatory significant mountain mounting fuel Ink has been made to used. Serious concerns at the now now and the after now will be if Glyph will last to the after now, and if caster – who is you – is going to be flight or going to be fall. At this, depends on retracing steps that are not actual steps but a path that is not actual path – distance. Reverse the distance that was made during the flying, and retreat to the wife-Witch-woman Amalasuintha. Everything will be the good nature if the you are able to get to her, you are certain.

>Do the pleasure of the dice doing one of the 10 by 10
>Critical Success: DC 99 and higher. On Your Own Power. Burning just 15 fuel, you get back to the shore where Amalasuintha is. The time and effort spent helps clear your head, and you are even able to land by yourself.
>Complete Success: DC 50 and higher. Headed Home. Burning through 90 fuel, you painfully limp your way through the sky back to the shore where Amalasuintha is.The pain and the effort actually helps clear your head, and soon your are lucid.
>Partial Success: DC 30 and higher. Force of Will. Burning through 300 fuel, you are somehow able to keep yourself in the sky, though you take so long returning to the shore that Amalasuintha actually makes her way over to you on her Broom. The effort does eventually clear up your head however.
>Failure being not full: DC half of 10 by 10, less 10 twice, less 1 and less. Falling with the Style. Make of the consuming the 300 fuel, you not of the able to make it to the woman-Witch-wife, not nor are able of the staying in the sky either, though at least you were of able to slip ease easily into the wet nadir.
>Failure being full: DC half of 10 by 10, less 10 thrice, less 1 and less. Falling with not the Style. Make of the consuming the 900 fuel, you not of the able to keep the flying, as all consumed fuel. Wet nadir slap splash. PAIN PAIN PAIN, but head is of not in the wet.
>Failure being really full: DC half of 10 by 10, less 10 thrice, less 10, less 1 and less. Doomed is the Drake. Accident attempt to of the Glyph which is failing and falling out the flight, the accident slip into the Fever. PAIN PAIN PAIN. Hard control! Woman-Witch-wife is coming, hold on!
>Critical-Complete Failure. DC 2 and less. Damned is the Drake. Wait, what the Hell just happened?
>>
>>5355354
Glad to have you back, anon!
>>
Rolled 70 (1d100)

>>5356016
>>
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As you while at the now now of limping to towards the shore and wife-Witch-woman, Amalasuintha, the nature of being closer near lucid is up and upon you. And by the time that she actually looks up from her own preparations to see you slowly – but safely – shuddering through the air towards her, you are confident that you are no longer under the influence of the Miasma. It may sound odd, but seeing and hearing her horrified reaction to what has become of your hand is comforting. She cares. She really cares.

To your surprise, you are able to land on the beach and snuff the spell on your own, though the shock of snuffing actually knocks you off of your feet and onto your ass. Not exactly encouraging, but with the injury you took, on top of the strain of the spell, you were half expecting that you were going to go straight into shock as soon as the spell ended, or maybe even get knocked out. Your head is spinning, but you are reasonably confident that is just from the backwash of the snuffing, and not from another bout of Miasma poisoning. You know better than to try to stand up at the moment, so instead you just awkwardly recline on your left arm, cradling your right as Amalasuintha rushes over. She is upset, quite plainly, but at the same time, she is far from hysterical. You do your best to explain what happened, but as soon as she gets a close look at what is left of your hand, she darts back to where she was preparing her Broom and returns with one of the satchels that she took with her.

Before you can articulate a question – or even think of one to attempt to articulate – she plucks what might be the single largest needle that you have ever seen in your entire life and jabs it into your shoulder. For a split second, it feels as if you were a piece of meat being roasted just a hairsbreadth over a fire, but just as quick as the heat came, it vanishes – and with it, what was left of the Glyphs. Interestingly, her eyes are not glowing meaning that whatever magic was just used, it was completely contained in that pigsticker. Equally impressive is that there is no trace that just a second ago nearly half of you was covered in Ink. Nothing. But it seems that your wife is not done with you quite yet as she starts rummaging through her bag once more. She has this intense look on her face like you have never seen before, and fittingly enough, when she returns her attention back to you, she has in her hands another implement that you have never seen before. Specifically, another needle. A large needle, uncomfortably large to tell the truth, but nothing exceptional like the one she just stuck you with. Surprisingly, she does not use it on you – instead, she pulls three of the fuel nodules out of her Flight-Jerkin and skewers them through instead.
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The next thing she pulls out of the satchel is another aggressively large needle, and again to your surprise it is not for you. Instead, she switches out the socketing needle for the Flight-Jerkin and then sockets it in her left arm. She then takes the three skewered nodules in her right hand.

“Forgive me, my love. This will only hurt for about a second.”

You look at her blankly for several seconds, before you realize that she is asking for your injured hand. With what under other circumstances might have been an embarrassing amount of trepidation, you extend your hand to her, trying to not look at the red ruin of your fingers. In the end it was actually a good thing that you were not looking, because if you had seen her coming down as hard as she did with that needle you might have flinched. As it was, you nearly blacked out from the pain. When you looked back, you couldn’t actually see anything, as Amalasuintha’s eyes were blazing so brightly. You weren’t sure if the heat was in your hand at the socketing site of the needle, or it was coming off of her eyes. Probably both. Eventually though, once pain from the socketing passes somewhat, you realize that you cannot feel anything past your shoulder. The rest of your arm … it hasn’t gone numb, it feels as if it didn’t exist. But just as you are starting to worry about what exactly your wife is doing to you, out of nowhere you can feel the socketing needle being removed, and with that, all feeling in your arm comes rushing back.

Reflexively you pull it away … and once you get it out of the searing light of your wife’s eyes, you can see that it is healed. Completely. Perfectly. Impossibly!

It … from your time in the Inquisition, you know well that it is possible for a Witch to cast spells without the assistance of implements or aids, like Life Looms or Glyphs, though doing so is so difficult that most Witches will not bother with unassisted casting, excepting the most basic of spells. But what Amalasuintha just did here was not ‘basic’ by any stretch of the imagination. Near instantly healing an injury like that, with fuel nodules repurposed as working material, with no imperfections or faults would be an incredible feat … with a Life-Loom. Without one … you cannot even wrap your head around it. Just … when she first admitted to you that she was Witch, you found yourself wondering what she could do. Now, after seeing this, you find yourself wonder what she couldn’t. You have so many questions, but before you can get any of them out, she speaks first.

“It might feel right as rain already, but it is best for the nerves if you don’t move your hand too much for the next hour or so. For that matter, you’ll feel as tipsy as a tippler if you try to get up. Just … rest. You don’t have to sleep, but you’ll just have to stay here for a bit. You tell me where you hit your hand, and I’ll go clean up the mess.”
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You do feel tired … and while you get the sense that both of you want to ask each other more questions about what has happened here today, you decide to take the path of least resistance. You describe the site of the log and the little island that it was sitting next to as best as you can, and soon your wife is drifting off into the mountain sky on her Broom as you are drifting off to sleep.

>Please choose ONE of the following:
>In spite of what easily could have been his death, Odovacar was not completely deterred from using Glyphs as a means to fly. His later study into externally powering Scarification Glyphs was primarily focused on developing a Miasma-free Flight Glyph that could be used in emergencies with only a few fuel nodules.
>Odovacar decided that Glyphs were too dangerous to fly with, as there is no safety net for the caster. His later study into externally powering Scarification Glyphs was not focused on Flight Glyphs, or any particularly powerful Glyphs at all. Going forward, he would fly only with Constructs or Projection.

This vote determines what your reward is for figuring out Amalasuintha's puzzler. After this we go back to Chlotsuintha.
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>>5358679
>Odovacar decided that Glyphs were too dangerous to fly with, as there is no safety net for the caster. His later study into externally powering Scarification Glyphs was not focused on Flight Glyphs, or any particularly powerful Glyphs at all. Going forward, he would fly only with Constructs or Projection.


Ooh food.
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>>5358679
Don’t fully understand what the 2nd reward actually is, can you expand on that if you don’t mind QM? Otherwise I’ll just choose the Miasma-free Flight Glyph, because I understand the reward there.

Also, would the Scarification Glyphs work on Dad’s proto-dragons, or is that not how that works?
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>>5358893
Oh, I am more than willing to expand. If the second option is chosen, when Chlotsuintha goes to pack up the Belfry, she will find something that would be used either by a flying construct or to aid flight-by-Projection. Additionally, this object could potentially be used for more than just flight too.
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>>5358679
>Odovacar decided that Glyphs were too dangerous to fly with, as there is no safety net for the caster. His later study into externally powering Scarification Glyphs was not focused on Flight Glyphs, or any particularly powerful Glyphs at all. Going forward, he would fly only with Constructs or Projection.
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>>5358679
>In spite of what easily could have been his death, Odovacar was not completely deterred from using Glyphs as a means to fly. His later study into externally powering Scarification Glyphs was primarily focused on developing a Miasma-free Flight Glyph that could be used in emergencies with only a few fuel nodules.
>>
>>5358679
>>Odovacar decided that Glyphs were too dangerous to fly with, as there is no safety net for the caster. His later study into externally powering Scarification Glyphs was not focused on Flight Glyphs, or any particularly powerful Glyphs at all. Going forward, he would fly only with Constructs or Projection.
>>
>>5358679
>>In spite of what easily could have been his death, Odovacar was not completely deterred from using Glyphs as a means to fly. His later study into externally powering Scarification Glyphs was primarily focused on developing a Miasma-free Flight Glyph that could be used in emergencies with only a few fuel nodules.
Glyphs have their good points
>>
>>5358679
>>In spite of what easily could have been his death, Odovacar was not completely deterred from using Glyphs as a means to fly. His later study into externally powering Scarification Glyphs was primarily focused on developing a Miasma-free Flight Glyph that could be used in emergencies with only a few fuel nodules
>>
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Almost exactly sixteen years later, in quiet back alley on one of the Lower Terraces:

Your name is Chlotsuintha, and you just bungled the seemingly simple Glyph breaking you were attempting. It is understandable, of course – you are using just a regular knife, hunched over in an alley, on an uncooperative and ailing subject, a Hook Gull that is (relatively speaking) smothered in Scarification Glyphs. That is not to say that this failure is not frustrating. This bird is probably one of the flock of seabirds that you saw on the house across the street from the South Burying Ground – the same house that the Inquisition actually recovered magical equipment from. But more than that, there is also a chance that the Witch responsible for Scrivening this bird is your father, and that if you learn more about the Glyphs on the bird, you might be able to deduce what he was doing with the poor creature, and from there, if your luck runs white as driven snow, maybe you could glean some sort of clue as to where he has gone. The odds of that … to call them long would be an understatement, a criminal understatement, but if you don’t try, you risk his trail going cold. Forever.

Which is why you are so frustrated at the moment – practically to the point of tears. If you have fouled things up as badly as you think you did, you have just rendered the Scarification Glyphs more susceptible to being damaged or even destroyed by Mitigation. On top of that, even if the Mitigation goes perfectly, your mistake here is going to make your work Reversing the Scarification Glyph into an operational state harder. And it was not going to be easy in the first place. But before you slip completely into panic and self-flagellation, you force yourself to take a shaky-but-deep breath and consider your options. It doesn’t take long at all, as you only really have two of them. You can just roll with the punches as best you can, accepting that Mitigation is going to be more difficult – not to mention at least marginally more dangerous – and less like to leave behind a Scarification Glyph that you could Reverse into working order on the Life-Loom. Or … you could drop everything, head back to the Midden and get this bird on the Life-Loom to Reverse your bungled attempt at breaking the Glyph. That would also be difficult, especially because the only thing you have to use as working material at the moment is whatever is left of the piglet and the sow … but in the end it would be easier than safely Mitigating and then Reversing a dead bird at some later date. Of course, it is not guaranteed that the bird is going to survive all the way back to the Midden, and if it dies, then you are going to have to deal with all of the Strangeness that is going to be pouring off of the corpse before you do anything else. Not to mention you were hoping to do a little more shopping today, which you simply would not have the time for if you went ahead with trying to save the bird.
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>Please choose ONE of the following:
>Continue as you originally planned, accepting that things are going to be more difficult and a little more dangerous. Once you Mitigate the bird, you will continue on to the grocer.
>Change your plans and attempt to save the bird by Reversing the damage, allowing you to study the effects of the Glyphs on a living specimen at your leisure.
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>>5359801
>>Continue as you originally planned, accepting that things are going to be more difficult and a little more dangerous. Once you Mitigate the bird, you will continue on to the grocer.
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>>5359801
>Change your plans and attempt to save the bird by Reversing the damage, allowing you to study the effects of the Glyphs on a living specimen at your leisure.
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>>5359785
>Continue as you originally planned, accepting that things are going to be more difficult and a little more dangerous. Once you Mitigate the bird, you will continue on to the grocer.
It's remarkable how quickly this lineage of Witches has degraded from the loss of the Coven. Amalatsuintha was an incredible Witch, and having a stable and supportive environment to learn probably was a big part of that. Odovacar is competent, but I'm also quite sure that he's far inferior to his wife. Then here's Chlot, struggling with basic magical tasks, alone and with very few avenues to learn.
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>>5360208
Being brought up properly in a Coven does go a long way for a Witch. You have access to Witches who have devoted their lives to particular schools of magic, and who have been teaching Witchlets for decades - not to mention implements, materials and texts that a lone Witch could never hope to build or accumulate on their own.

I'll leave this vote up for another hour or two, then I'll close it.
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>>5359801
>>Continue as you originally planned, accepting that things are going to be more difficult and a little more dangerous. Once you Mitigate the bird, you will continue on to the grocer.
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>>5359801
>Continue as you originally planned, accepting that things are going to be more difficult and a little more dangerous. Once you Mitigate the bird, you will continue on to the grocer.
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>Mitigation I

>Critical Success: DC 99 and higher. The Mitigation goes as smoothly as possible under the circumstances as the Strangeness is completely purged from the bird, and the process gives several hints as to how the Glyphs worked. Surprisingly, there was no real damage done, so bird survived as well, though it will need medical attention soon if you want to keep it alive to make your work on the Life-Loom easier (4/6).
>Complete Success: DC 55 and higher. The Mitigation could have gone better, but under the circumstances you will take it gladly. The Strangeness is cleansed from the Gull, and the process has given you a hint as to how the Glyphs worked. Shockingly, there was only superficial damage done by the cast, so the bird survived as well, though you are going to have tender immediate medical attention if you want to keep the beast alive to make your work on the Life-Loom easier (5/6).
>Partial Success. DC 45 and higher. While some Strangeness remains in the Gull, it will not be a serious impediment to your work on the Life-Loom. As expected, there was some damage done to the corpse, so Gull did not survive Mitigation, though at least the bird did not seem to suffer, and the Glyphs are still intact (save for where your broke them).
>Partial Failure: DC 44 and lower. Some Strangeness remains in the Gull, enough that it is going to further complicate your work on the Life-Loom. As expected, the Gull did not survive Mitigation, and some damage has been done to the Glyphs, which might complicate your work on the Life-Loom as well. At least the bird did not suffer ... for too long
>Complete Failure: DC 24 and lower. Enough Strangeness remains in the Gull to keep the corpse unworkable. Of course, the Gull did not survive the Mitigation, and enough damage was done to the Glyphs that your work on the Life-Loom is going to be complicated further. However, you were able to prevent the release of the Strangeness.
>Catastrophic Failure: DC 4 and lower: You were not able to remove enough Strangeness from the body of the bird to work on the corpse with the Life-Loom, but the bird has been ruined by the Mitigation. Even if you were able to Mitigate away the Strangeness, the current condition of the bird is beyond your current ability to Reverse on the Life-Loom ... unless you were willing to try something dangerous, like entering into Strange Fever while using the Loom. You also not able to completely prevent the release of the Strangeness when the bird did finally die.
>Critical-Catastrophic Failure: DC 2 and lower. The bird detonates just like a ‘peter-pomegranate, injuring you - especially your hands - in the process. There is nothing but shards of blackened bone and splatters of now-rancid meat left of the bird. Even if you risked entering into Strange Fever while using the Loom, you would not be able to Reverse all of this damage. Additionally, the death of the Gull releases dangerous amounts of Strangeness into the alley.
>>
Rolled 52 (1d100)

>>5362075
>>
Apologies for being a massive idiot, I thought that we were tied 2-2 and was waiting for a tiebreaker since Tuesday night.
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>>5362083
Okay, that is pretty good. I would like to point out that you also have two re-rolls and one auto-pass banked still, and you can use them if you want. I'll leave up a snap vote while I go get something to eat for lunch, and then I will close it when I get back.

>Please choose ONE of the following:
>Keep the current roll, accepting the Partial Success.
>Use the re-roll and try for something better.
>Use the auto-pass and get the Complete Success.
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>>5362088
>>Use the re-roll and try for something better.
I love living on the edge
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>>5362088
>Keep the current roll, accepting the Partial Success.
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>>5362085
RIP Progress. Will we get a coin for our troubles?

>>5362088
>3 off
Fucking frustrating.
>Keep the current roll, accepting the Partial Success.
I ain’t happy about it, but unless the Patternmaker is generous, I ain’t about to use up a reroll trying to achieve what would be a statistically inferior result, despite my want to do so. A shame, because this was probably the easiest mitigation/research odds I think we were ever going to get.

Just for clarification, if we do use a reroll and get a lower result, does that reroll become the result regardless or does it turn into a Bo2 situation (until we crit at least)?
>>
Alright two for accepting the current roll, so the vote is now closed. I'll get to work writing up the next update.

>>5362209
Yes, it is possible to get a worse result on a re-roll ... though perhaps I might make a tenth-talent in-between re-roll and auto-pass that takes the best of the two rolls.

>>5362209
>RIP Progress. Will we get a coin for our troubles?
Sure, considering that this has already been a slow thread, +1 lucky tenth-talent, redeemable for one re-roll.
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>>5362245
Been busy QM?
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On the cobblestones underneath you, the Glyphed Gull is either shivering and twitching or attempting to flap its wings. Your eyes are beginning to strain from all of the focus, and you allow yourself to blink, breaking your focus, and temporarily allowing your Strange-Staining Glyph to reinitialize. You can take some small relief in the fact that your bungled breaking of the Glyphs has not somehow managed to release any additional Strangeness … but at the end of the day, that is a fig-leaf, through and through. Recovering this Glyph in a condition where you could safely study it was never going to be easy. Now, because you cannot stop fraying everything up to save your miserable, besotted life, it is going to be harder – and worse, more dangerous.

For a moment, you seriously consider dropping everything, rushing back to the Belfry, and trying to Reverse your Glyph breaking on the Life-Loom … though you ultimately decide against it. If you had another seabird to work with, maybe, but even then, the Glyphed Gull is simply too Strange to work on the Life-Loom at the moment. You would have to Remediate, then Reverse, then break the Glyph again … and only then would you be back right where you are right now. To be sure, you might be in a slightly better position with the condition of the Glyph. Emphasis on ‘might’. Each of those three processes could go terribly wrong – or you could do everything right and the bird just up and dies on you anyway.

You focus on the bird again, and soon the constantly shifting white-gray-black Stains disappear. You get some more salt, and then you look over the legs of the Glyphed Gull very, very carefully, to make sure that there are no Glyphs anywhere on them. Once you are satisfied that you are not going to be destroying anything you would want to study later, you peel off your gloves, rub the salt thoroughly on your palms, then you gather up both of the bird’s legs in your hands. As if it could sense your intent, doomed Gull starts to shake and tremble all the more violently, no doubt trying to get away from you, but your grip is firm and sure. You press the bird’s back into the bed of salt you have thrown on the ground, and after you take one last steadying breath, there is nothing left to but to initialize the cast and pray for the best.

Unfortunately, the cast is not the best. Even though the only kickback to the spell you experience is getting the air knocked out of your lungs right at the start, you can see that the magical reaction is figuratively tearing through the bird – physically tearing as well at your point of contact with the target of the spell. Skin is spontaneously separating itself from cartilage, cartilage is spreading from muscle, muscle is separating from bone. As you watch the pair of legs in your hand flense themselves to the point that the only thing keeping them together is your grip, you contemplate aborting the cast and trying again.
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But you cannot. This Mitigation is moving too aggressively through the bird – aggressively enough that you actually see a few popping sparks. If you stopped it now, and attempted it again, the Glyphed Gull might end up dying on you while it still held dangerous amounts of Strangeness. Grimacing in frustration, you allow the spell to continue, as you try – and partially succeed – at throttling down the cast. There is a real risk that more than the point of contact and the surrounding area is damaged with this cast, and if it gets to the point where it looks like the Glyphs are tearing themselves apart, then you might actually have no other choice but to smother the spell and pray that somehow the bird lives long enough for you to prepare and complete a second Mitigation.

Blessedly, despite the unexpected speed and aggression of the cast, it does look like all of the damage being done to the bird is solely contained to the legs. Of course, the bird is still covered in feathers and it is spasming violently at this point – it is well within the realm of possibility that damage is being done right now, and you simply cannot see it. It occurs to you that it would have been a great idea to have plucked the bird, or at least denuded the areas around the Glyphs so you could have kept a better eye on them. You might even have had an easier time of breaking the Glyph if you had just thought of it. Pattern’s Perdition, you are such a fraying idiot! Can you not think anything through at all? Just what kind of Witchlet are you? Father’s fears about you were right – you are equal parts reckless and hopeless. He’d certainly never make a stupid mistake like this!

The bird begins to heave and vomit, bringing up more than a hint of blood with the half-digested food. Alarmingly, the Gull does not stop vomiting – it just flows from it’s beak in pulses, each pinker, then redder than the last, until it looks like nothing but blood and viscera is coming up. The bird’s eyes bulge out then slip free from their sockets, distended and dangling, as smoke beings to billow from inside the now empty sockets. With one hand at the ready with salt to smother the spell and contain a potential breach, and the other occupied with gripping the damned thing by the peeled remains of its legs, you are not in a position to confirm anything … but if you had to guess, you would say with real certainty that the Glyphed Gull is now dead.

While its demise was … well, horrific and no doubt painful, the fact that there was no surge of Strangeness, no breach as the Strangeness that had dissipated itself into the bird slipped back out into the world upon the death of its vessel is undeniably good news. Perhaps the cast felt so quick and aggressive because there was simply so much Strangeness to work with? Regardless, the reaction is clearly slowing down, which means that it is running out of Strangeness to Mitigate away.
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The body of the bird starts to curl up as the reaction winds down. On the underbelly of the Gull, the feathers that remained to the bird in life are lost in death. Wet with blood and some unknown frothy discharge, they clump together and are shaken off, by the tremors and convulsions that are still being caused by the Mitigation. As the corpse is gradually denuded, you can see that the Glyphs on the belly did not escape unscathed. The scars of the Scarification Glyphs have opened up, which is where the blood and the … you suppose you could call it puss, but the consistency is all wrong. Well, whatever the Hell it is, it quite clearly came out of the Glyphs. It is messy, to be sure, but it is not too bad. Scarification Glyphs are fairly resilient to damage, so long as they are just surface cuts and scrapes. Apparently, it is not too uncommon for a new Scarification Glyph to open up again the first few times its spell is initialized.

What actually has you worried is the new blisters and bruising around the Glyphs – those indicate that there has been some disruption in the dermis, perhaps even the subdermis, which is where a Scarification Glyph is decidedly not resilient to damage. You are about to start swearing under your breath, when you can feel the legs of the bird start to give away in your hand, and you make the split-second decision to grab on to the Gull with your off-hand, to make sure that the cast does not end prematurely. In most cases, doing this is dangerous, for several reasons. First, adding a second focal or point of contact this late in the cast might cause the spell to shift, split or even just to generally react in unexpected and unstable ways. Second, if the new point of contact is not shielded, then there is a risk of kickback at contact or backwashing afterwards. But worse than that is the chance that the cast unexpectedly bridges over from the intended target – in this case, the Gull – and into the caster.

In this particular case though, none of those are on the table. The spell has nearly played itself out, so the odds that the cast splits or even shifts is low, really low – and if it did, you should be able to rein it in. And your off-hand is already shielded well enough with the salt that you have been holding at the ready. Even with the unexpected aggression of this particular cast, it is still nowhere near powerful enough that you actually had to be concerned about the spell arcing out of the bird and into an unintended target.

This belief in yourself is vindicated, when about two minutes later the cast peters out without further incident. The Glyphed Gull is real mess, but at least the corpse is still in one piece – minus what is hopefully just superficial damage to the Glyphs … oh, and the legs, which feel as if they are going to fall to pieces the moment you try to release them. Honestly, as the point of contact on the target of a Mitigation cast, they got off pretty easily.
>>
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While this was not a perfect cast by any stretch of the imagination, on the whole, things could have gone much, much worse. If your luck runs white, the superficial damage to the Glyphs should not make Reversing the breaks you cut in much harder than it was already going to be. All you need to do is find some time in the next two days to actually work on this … oh, and if at all possible, some new flesh to use as working material, preferably from a healthy seabird. Suffice to say, you doubt that you would get the best results if you were to use the remains of the piglet and the cuts of the sow to work on a bird. In fact, you are not sure if what is left of the piglet and the sow is even in a workable condition. Maker’s Mercy, just … worry about that later. Right now, you need to –

>Please choose ONE of the following:
>Bundle what you can of the Glyphed Gull and get out of this alley immediately. You have already deviated from your schedule; you have no more time to spend here. (Consumes rags)
>After bundling up what you can of the Glyphed Gull, use some of your newly bought rags to clean up what you can of the blood and the … discharge. There will be some traces of blood, and there will still be some Strangeness left behind. (Consumes more rags)
>After bundling up what you can of the Glyphed Gull and using some of the newly bought rags to clean up the site as best you can, Mitigate the rest of the Strangeness out of this alley. (Consumes more rags and salt)
>After bundling up what you can of the Glyphed Gull and using some of the newly bought rags to clean up the site as best you can, Remediate the rest of the Strangeness out of this alley. (Consumes more rags and salt)

>>5363417
You have no idea. Apologies about the hold up.
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>>5364701
Whats the difference between remediation and mitigation?
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>>5364701
>>After bundling up what you can of the Glyphed Gull, use some of your newly bought rags to clean up what you can of the blood and the … discharge. There will be some traces of blood, and there will still be some Strangeness left behind. (Consumes more rags)
>>
>>5364701
>>After bundling up what you can of the Glyphed Gull and using some of the newly bought rags to clean up the site as best you can, Remediate the rest of the Strangeness out of this alley. (Consumes more rags and salt)
I don't like to leave Strangeness lying around, even if it would probably dissipate...eventually.
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>>5364796
Remediation is notably harder to perform properly, but is less dangerous on failure and will not leave behind evidence, where as Mitigation, unless done perfectly, will always do some damage to the target.

Additionally, you can only Redimate the same batch of Strangeness three times, but you can Mitigate the same target as many times as you want.
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>>5364701
>>After bundling up what you can of the Glyphed Gull and using some of the newly bought rags to clean up the site as best you can, Remediate the rest of the Strangeness out of this alley. (Consumes more rags and salt)


Thanks for the reminder, QM.
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>After bundling up what you can of the Glyphed Gull and using some of the newly bought rags to clean up the site as best you can, Remediate the rest of the Strangeness out of this alley. (Consumes more rags and salt)
>>
>>5364701
>After bundling up what you can of the Glyphed Gull and using some of the newly bought rags to clean up the site as best you can, Mitigate the rest of the Strangeness out of this alley. (Consumes more rags and salt)
>>
>>5364701
what degree of strangeness are we even talking about? If it's not commutable I wouldn't bother with any kind of clean-up, considering the state the mound is already in.
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>>5365538
As far as you can tell, everything that came out of the bird was Strange in the first degree, or not communicable. Mitigating or Remediating would also end up cleaning away more of the evidence then you could with just the rags, however.

Regardless, there are enough votes that I feel comfortable closing this for Remediating this mess. I'm just going to cook dinner, and then I will be ready run.
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>>5365700
Whats for dinner?
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>>5365795
Salted Gull
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After some consideration, you settle on Remediating away the Strangeness. You might have a little harder go of it, as opposed to dealing with this through Mitigation, but as your priority here should be to leave as little of a trace as possible, the gentle touch of Remediation is an obvious choice. Using Strange-Staining, you can see that there are four places in this alley that are Strange. The cobblestones of your improvised operating theatre, the perch where the bird was sitting before you threw a stone at it, the shallow stone gutter where the bird landed after you hit it, and the stone that you threw at the bird. All together, that is a tall order, but at the very least, Remediating those areas will also make them easier to clean.

>Please, one roll of 1d100:

>Remediation I: Cobblestones and Cast-Offs
>Critical Success: DC 99 and higher. The Remediation goes as smoothly as possible under the circumstances and all of the Strangeness that was either in the cobblestones or in the bits that fell off or otherwise came out of the bird are dealt with as quickly and cleanly as possible. In the process, you notice something about the cast offs that gives you several hints as to how the Glyphs worked together.
>Complete Success: DC 65 and higher. The Remediation goes well, all things being considered, and all of the Strangeness that was present in the cobblestone or in the bits that fell off or otherwise came out of the bird are dealt without issue. In the process, you get an idea about that cast offs that gives you a hint as to how the Glyphs worked together.
>Partial Success: DC 55 and higher. The Remediation is a little rough around the edges, and you are only able to get half of the Strangeness present in the cobblestones and the cast offs out in your first go (1/2). You can attempt Remediation twice more here.
>Partial Failure: DC 54 and lower. The Remediation takes a lot more out of you than expected, but at least you were able to make some progress, getting a quarter of the Strangeness present in the cobblestones and the cast offs out in your first go (1/4). You can attempt Remediation twice more here.
>Complete Failure: DC 34 and lower. The Remediation does not manage to reach completion. This attempt does not remove any Strangeness from the cobblestones and cast offs. You can attempt Remediation twice more here.
>Catastrophic Failure: DC 14 and lower. You are not sure what you did wrong, but whatever you have done seems to have seriously fortified the Strangeness here against Remediation – without removing any Strangeness. You can no longer attempt to Remediate this batch of Strangeness. Move on to another.
>Critical-Catastrophic Failure: DC 2 and lower. Damn it all! You bridged the cast into yourself! You are going to need a few minutes to recover from that …

>>5365795
Pork chops!

>>5365797
Now that you say that, I am kind of curious as to what a seagull tastes like.
>>
Rolled 12 (1d100)

>>5365855
>>
>>5365861
>3 from a non-catastrophic failure
Now the Patternmaker is just fucking with us.
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Hmm ... well, we can come back to this one later. There are still other things that can be remediated.

>Please, one roll of 1d100:

>Remediation II: Shallow Gutter
>Critical Success: DC 99 and higher. As a salve for your wounded pride, the Remediation here goes smooth as silk. All of the Strangeness present just ... slips away into the salt. And as an added bonus, you find a tenth-talent while you are at it!
>Complete Success: DC 65 and higher. At least this Remediation goes as intended. The Strangeness is dealt with, the bits of blood and discharge dry up into dust to make cleaning easy, and as you are sweeping up, you get an idea to test with the Gull later.
>Partial Success: DC 55 and higher. It went better then last time, at least. About half of the Strangeness in the gutter is dealt with on your first go (1/2). You can attempt Remediation twice more here.
>Partial Failure: DC 54 and lower. Your troubles continue. You are only able to remove about a quarter of the Strangeness in the gutter on your first go (1/4). You can attempt Remediation twice more here.
>Complete Failure: DC 34 and lower. The Remediation does not manage to reach completion, which while frustrating, is at least better than last time. You can attempt Remediation twice more here.
>Catastrophic Failure: DC 14 and lower. What are you doing wrong? Again, you have fortified the Strangeness here in the gutter against Remediation - without removing any of it. You can no longer attempt to Remediate this batch of Strangeness. Move on to another.
>Critical-Catastrophic Failure: DC 2 and lower. Damn it all! You bridged the cast into yourself! You are going to need a few minutes to recover from that …
>>
>>5365898
I’m gonna give it 15-20 minutes, just to give other anons a chance to participate.
>>
Rolled 18 (1d100)

>>5365900
If we have to have bad rolls, here isn't the worst time and place.
>>
Rolled 59 (1d100)

>>5365900
I’ll roll for the second attempt, just to keep the quest moving. If my roll fails, someone please roll the final attempt.

>>5365913
True, but it feels like these bad roll happen more often than not.
>>
Alright, we need one more roll of 1d100.
>>
Rolled 8 (1d100)

>>5366015
Done
>>
>>5366093
….I should have waited for another anon. Just… why?
>>
Rolled 92 (1d100)

>>5366015
What the fuck happened here
>>
Honestly lets just leave this as it is. We're waisting time here on one of 10000 strange spots that already must be in the city. Time to move on.
>>
>>5366096
…if this roll doesn’t make it in somehow, I’ll be on suicide watch.

>>5366098
Frankly, we’re in the epicenter of a Chernobyl plague, it’s just that we had the ability to prevent it, but decided not to. I feel horrible that we caused these disasters to happen though our cowardice and inaction, and I’d prefer to at least reasonably clean up our mess, if only as penance.
>>
Ouch. That eight means that the Strangeness in the Shallow Gutter is inured against Remediation. However, I will count that ninety-two for the perch where the bird was sitting, which due to its awkward position was going to be the most difficult of these test. At this point, the only thing remaining is the rock that was thrown at the bird. There seems to be some support for leaving at this point, so I'll throw up a quick snap vote now.

>Please choose ONE of the following:
>After wiping it down as best you can, leave the Alley in its current, Strange condition.
>After wiping it down as best you can, leave the Alley in its current, Strange condition, but take the rock with you.
>Attempt to Remediate the rock, making a decision on what to do about the remaining Strangeness afterwards.
>>
>>5366383
>Attempt to Remediate the rock, making a decision on what to do about the remaining Strangeness afterwards.
We should give it a go. If we succeed, we gain insight on the glyph. If we fail, it’s just a fucking rock, we can dump it in the sea.
>>
>>5366383
>After wiping it down as best you can, leave the Alley in its current, Strange condition
fuck this

>>5366127
not so sure if we could have really prevented much. There are dozens of these gulls on the loose and they must all be close to dying. What the hell are we supposed to do about that? Token gestures like this only waste our precious time and resources. We can go back to working cleanly after we are out of this goddamned mess.
>>
>>5366464
I was referring to the entire Midden beginning to glow from the Strage Leapers that we refused to mitigate.
>>
>>5366509
The strangeness on these lepers come from the graven ball, which is something we found, not made. Just like this gull abomination. Whoever made these things is either extremely careless or purposely trying to infect everything. We felt guilty about failing to remediate the situation earlier, but the more I see the more I grow convinced that we never stood a chance to begin with.
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>>5366536
I disagree. We could have averted a tragedy, but we chose not to. It didn’t matter if it was going’s to happen without us here or not, the fact is that we were there with the ability and power to help, and we lacked the courage to do so. Preventing the fall of Midden was well within our ability.
>>
>>5366383
>>After wiping it down as best you can, leave the Alley in its current, Strange condition.
Throw the rock to the sea?
>>
>>5366653
I think you forgot to add the
>but take the rock with you.
part of the vote then.
>>
Well, this snap vote has lasted a bit longer than I intended, but unless we get clarifcation from >>5366653 we are in a three way tie.
>>
Rolled 1 (1d2)

I'm fine with either of these choices, so I'll roll a die for my vote.
1
>After wiping it down as best you can, leave the Alley in its current, Strange condition.
2
>Attempt to Remediate the rock, making a decision on what to do about the remaining Strangeness afterwards.
>>
>>5366383
>Attempt to Remediate the rock, making a decision on what to do about the remaining Strangeness afterwards.
>>
Damn it all, we are back in a tie. I don't want to leave this over night. Hopefully, we will get a tiebreaker in the next hour or so.
>>
>>5366383
>After wiping it down as best you can, leave the Alley in its current, Strange condition.

We've tarried long enough. Grocer then dresses.
>>
>>5366383
>>After wiping it down as best you can, leave the Alley in its current, Strange condition.
>>
Frankly, we should take the rock with us, to chuck it into the sea. I don’t want Inquisitor Sherlock Homes to triangulate our location with a fucking rock.
>>
>>5367348
He's very good, but I'm betting he's not that good.
>>
>>5367348
Eat the rock
>>
Okay, it seems the consensus here is to move on after cleaning up, and leaving the Alley as is. I will get to writing the next update.

>>5367348
>>5367396
What, did you think that the Inquisition just gives anyone a Chapterhouse?
>>
>>5367749
Fuck
>>
>>5367396
His detective bullshit is off the charts, his only blind spot was passing us over as a witch candidates (and even then, we would’ve been in Game Over territory if we’ve chosen the wrong option). I’ve long ago accepted that we’re going to make mistakes that’ll eventually get us killed, but can we please remove as much physical evidence as we can? Throwing a rock into the sea isn’t what I’d call a laborious, time-consuming activity.

>>5367749
Never is a strong word, but I’d be surprised if that number ever went into double digits during the Inquisition’s existence.
>>
>>5340817
>If they have a bout of Growth Hunger, then they will leave their territory, looking for things with a compatible Form to eat.
And there it is. Strangers don't just mutate physically - they are cancerous Form-predators.
It makes sense when you think about it. Witches aren't burning lifespan as a result of physically consuming their cells as fuel, but because they are directly converting their own Form into magic effects. It's the same thing with anything else used as fuel for sorcery, and i suspect the only reason why concepts adjacent to "fuel" are better at the job is because humans are using the meta-conceptual similarity as a crutch of sorts.
In fact, it's pretty suspicious that the world of Ideal Forms is acting as similarily to its shadow in the first place, with its own meta-entropy and conservation of energy. Does Form-alteration REALLY need fuel or produce heat, or are both of these quirks of magic just natural consequences of its users assumptions?

Either way, the Stranger seems like the fundamental opposite to the witch. If we could just devise a way to observe the Forms directly and witness one eating, i'm sure it would be a big step in reversing the effects the scarrification glyphs have on our Form. Hell, i bet it's even possible to extend ones own life by consuming other Forms.
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You decide to start your Cleansing with the site of your cobblestone chirurgery theatre, for the simple reason that it is the closest to you. But as you retreat to the cart with the nearly-mundane corpse of the Gull, you realize that this particular Remediation is actually going to be a little more difficult than you originally thought.

Typically, with the amount of surface area that the Strangeness is spread over, a chained cast over the entire patch would be the most practical way to approach Remediation. If you attempted to hammer cast the entire patch at once, you would have to bear the entire strain of the cast right up at front, at the exact moment where you need to be in complete control. Alternatively, you could break up the patch into several separate hammer casts, and while the strain would be inversely proportional to the number of casts you broke the patch up into, it would still hit you right out of the gate – like a stunning sledge at a slaughterhouse – and the more casts you broke it up into, the greater the likelihood that something goes wrong and you end up inuring the entire patch of Strangeness against Remediation. In fact, for a spell like this, which produces strain proportional to the amount of Strangeness that it is dealing with, there are only a few specific situations where it actually makes sense to use the spell in a hammer cast. When seconds are critical, when salt is limited, when the object that is Strange is so small or in such a shape that you cannot make the mounds and bridges required for a chained cast – these are the only times that it makes sense. And maybe if something was barely Strange, and you knew that it was not going to cause enough strain to warrant special consideration … but that is taking a risk.

Besides a chained cast over the entire patch, a hammer cast over the entire patch, and several hammer casts over several portions of the patch, the only other possible option would be to break up the patch into several separate chained casts, though doing so largely defeats the purpose of chaining casts in the first place. Like with the separate hammer casts, the separate chained casts increases the risk of inuring the entire patch against Remediation, but you get diminishing returns in the reduction of strain when you break a chained cast apart. And while there are a few situations where splitting a chained cast actually makes sense – such as in the case of an obscenely Strange object, or a patch of Strangeness that it larger than you can reach all at once, or an object that simply has disagreeable geometry – these are few and far between in practice.

So, under typical circumstances, the choice here would be so fraying obvious that it would be disingenuous to refer to it as a ‘choice’. Unfortunately for you, there is actually a very specific situation, where chained casting is actually less stable and more dangerous than hammer casting; when salt is already present.
>>
>>5367348
Ok. Ok. Just toss it into a shitter along the way. If our foe still gets it and screws us then they've earned it.
>>
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The salt you put down to prevent the Strangeness from spreading did its job admirably. You can see with your Strange-Staining scarification glyph that whatever Strangeness passed out of the seabird on its death has been confined to the spaces where the squirming and struggling of the bird brushed aside the protective layer. But now that you want to Remediate those small patches, all of the salt around them presents a serious issue. You could accidentally bridge the spell into the surrounding salt – in fact, there is enough salt present that the spell might actually be able to arc out of the little pile of salt that you are targeting with the Remediation cast and into the rest of it, all at once. Or it could split, with one cast running in the pile with another simultaneously running in the remains of the bed. If either of those things were to happen … it would be worse than attempting to hammer cast the entire thing all in one sitting.

For a start, with bridging, arcing or splitting is just that, accidental. You have no idea if or when it is going to happen, so obviously, you are not going to be able to prepare yourself, to focus down on the spell. In the best-case scenario, you would be on the backfoot. In the worse-case scenario, you would be knocked on your ass. When it comes to throttling up or down magical reactions, seconds matter. Of course, that is assuming that you would be able to throttle the reaction at all. If you were targeting the pile, and the cast managed to get into the surrounding salt, you might completely lose control of it. And when a spell becomes sustainable outside of the control of the caster – that is a recipe for danger, disaster, and destruction, even with a relatively benign spell, like Salt-Remediation.

Now, there is a simple way to avoid all of these problems – remove the damned salt. But of course, there are issues with that as well. With so much salt present, and such relatively small stains to look at, you are not really able to judge just how much Strangeness passed out of the Glyphed Gull and into the cobblestones below. This is the perennial issue caused by the death of magical or Strange beings. Not only do you have to contend with the ‘fresh’ Strangeness that they are carrying, once the being dies, you also have to deal with a portion of all of the Strangeness that has dissipated into them over the course of their entire life. At this moment, the bird is not too Strange, which could suggest that very little Strangeness had dissipated into the bird during its life, and so even less would be released upon its demise … but considering that you were running a Mitigation spell at the time the Gull expired, you cannot be sure. It is possible, that at the moment of death, the Strangeness that should have been released on the bird was instead directed to a more amenable spot – in this case, the bits of cobblestones that were no longer protected by the bed of salt that you had put down.
>>
Sorry about the continuing delays everyone. Hopefully, I should have the scene here finished by the end of today.
>>
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Worse than that, it is possible that enough Strangeness was released that the patches in front of you are communicable. Depending on how long the seabird has had those Glyphs, there could be enough Strangeness to make the cobblestones Strange in the Second or even in the Third Degree. Honestly, the whole thing is mess. It really makes you wish that you had some sort of paired down Ranged-Dosimeter, something that looks for the spread of Strangeness in an area … but the closest thing you have to something like that is the husk and corpse of father’s old Spot-Dosimeter – and even if you were somehow able to resuscitate it, they way it works is completely different. No, if you want one of those, then you are going to have build one.

Or steal one from the Inquisition.

Maker’s Mercy, what a dangerous thought! You actually shake your head, as if you physically dislodge the idea. With everything going the way it has been lately, the absolute last place in the Mount, no, in the fraying world, you should find yourself is a Chapterhouse. Of course, it is frustrating, not knowing for a surety where you stand here, but that – that is madness. Utter madness. If father was here, and you suggested as much to him, he would probably beat you for it.

For good measure, once you get the Gull wrapped up as best you can, and you have visually confirmed with your Strange-Staining Glyph that the Strangeness is not spreading to the rags, you slap yourself – and in the process get a face full of macerated seabird leg juice. Feeling like a right hulking idiot, you wipe yourself off with another one of the rags, and once done, you tuck it in with the wrapped up remains. As you do, you consider trying to test the Strangeness on the cobblestones with one of the rags. Obviously, you bought the damned things because they are disposable, but … that’s the issue. Disposing of them, if it turns out that the Strangeness underneath the bed of salt is in fact communicable. You would have gone from having to deal with four spots of Strangeness to five.

Maybe you could blow the salt away? Strangeness has a very hard time spreading to air – or other gasses, for that matter. Deciding that you have gone back and forth enough, you decide to try, and after portioning out some new salt to make the mounds and bridges that the Remediation requires from your new pound bag, you return to your improvised operating theatre. After checking to make sure that the area around the bed of salt has remained free and clear of the Strangeness, and is clean enough that it will not dirty your new dress and apron, you kneel down, and start to experimentally blow at some of the thinner spots of salt in the bed. Despite the rough and irregular surface of the cobblestones, to your surprise, you are actually able to move much more of the salt than you would have guessed you could. Feeling much smarter than you did when you slapped yourself, you get to work clearing the bed as best you can.
>>
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About of minute passes before you are confident that you have blown away enough of the salt to safely cast Salt-Remediation. The salt which once laid over the cobblestones is now in a loose boundary around the patch of Strangeness. And while it is still spreading, it goes about spreading like paint goes about drying – very slowly. Slowly enough that you believe that these cobblestones are just Strange in the First Degree after all, that the spread that you are watching right now is just the Strangeness moving into spots where it otherwise would have already been, if not for the salt. After allowing yourself a sigh of relief, it takes at least three more minutes before you have the mounds all set up over the contagion.

You are feeling confident and ready to start casting – right up to the point when you realize that you should have either purse or the pound bag of salt on standby just in case you end up needing more than you expected. Quickly, you snag the bag from the cart, check that you actually have everything you are going to need, then you give yourself a few moments to clear your head before taking a series of deep breaths. Once you have steeled yourself as best you can, you take one last great big breath and then you initialize the cast.

Of course, things go wrong immediately. You can feel the cast, both the physical strain of maintaining it and the mental burden of sustaining it … but embarrassingly enough, it is not on the mound of salt that you were targeting with the cast. Worse than that, you don’t know where exactly the magical reaction is at the moment. This is … Pattern’s Perdition, you never even knew that it was possible to ‘lose’ a cast like this. Sure, they could slip away, by arcing, or splitting, or jumping a bridge before their time, or something like that, but to start a cast and not be able to tell where the Hell it is starting, that is … terrifying, really. If a Mitigation spell did this, you could end blinding, disfiguring, or maiming yourself, maybe even worse.

Against your best judgement, you keep your hand where it is, hoping that you are somehow going to be able to find the cast and take control of it, though you are not really sure how you would go about doing that. But once a full minute passes and you are still unable to find where the reaction is running, you decide that you should smother the cast. With the cast terminated, and any hint of danger passed, you find that you are now more frustrated than concerned. A lot more frustrated. Obviously, you are not going to try again without figuring out what the Hell went wrong. You mull it over for half a minute, and after eliminating several more obvious possibilities, you find yourself wondering if the spell somehow wound-up targeting the salt that you had blown aside. Delicately, you sift through the salt in the ring with your thumb until you find some grains with the telltale grayish hue of being used in a Salt-Remediation cast.
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Muttering dark calumnies under your breath, you prepare to cast again, this time intending to target the mound that is in your estimation the furthest away from the band of salt around the Strangeness. You position yourself so you can comfortably reach to the mound, without risking your dress or apron disturbing any of the other mounds you have made, or the band of salt around the afflicted cobblestones. Once you are steeled yourself again, you initialize the spell.

This time, the cast is exactly where you intended it to be … but now you are not able to get the magical reaction to reach completion. In fact, you are barely able to take it past initialization before the spell just smothers itself, not even putting a dent in the Strangeness present in the vicinity of the mound. Immediately, you get a sick feeling in the pit of your stomach. Is it possible that you have already inured the Strangeness here against Remediation with just that one miscast? Your guess about the spell ending up in the belt of salt panned out, but you have no idea why it would go and inure this patch. Excluding the missed target, it truly felt like a successful cast. The strain was more than tolerable and while your eyes have started throwing off light, they feel only marginally warmer than they normally do.

If you had to guess, you would say that it had to do with the fact that the spell ended up with magnitudes more salt than was actually required for the cast. Given what you know, it seems like that is the only reasonable explanation … but based off of what you know about Salt-Remediation, an excess should not have been a problem for the spell. Racking your brain, you try to think of a time when father ever said anything about using too much of a working material. When you cannot come up with anything, you allow yourself to get your hopes up. Perchance it was just two bad casts – that happened to be bad in completely different ways. Now fervently hoping that you were wrong, you attempt the cast once more, on the same mound of salt that you targeted in the center of the ring.

This time, you are not even able to initialize the spell. Just about ready to start yanking your hair out in frustration, you force yourself to walk away from this latest failure. Pattern’s Perdition, how do you keep bungling these spells? You should be better than this by now!

It is not much, but at the absolute least, you have the presence of mind to not let yourself throw a tantrum here. As secluded as this spot it, you are still just out in open performing magic. If anyone was to come along and see you at work here, you wouldn’t be able to talk yourself out of it, not with your eyes all aglow. In a huff, you gather up the pound bag of salt, and head over to the shallow stone gutter where the Glyphed Gull fell after you smacked him with that rock.
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The gull was not there for very long, so the amount of Strangeness present in the gutter is limited, but in spite of what just happened, you are still trying to be thorough. It does not take overly long to get the salt situated into the little mounds, but after the showing you have just had, you take the extra time to make sure that the mounds are appropriately spaced, and that there is no loose salt between the application sites. As a final precaution, you move the pound bag of salt as far away as you can, while still leaving it close enough that you can reach it. With all of your preparations here concluded, you check one last time to make sure that the stones that you are about to kneel down on are clean and clear of the Strangeness. Satisfied, you reach out and touch the mound furthest away from the pound bag, and after a moment to clear your head and your lungs, you initialize the cast.

Unlike your three previous attempts in this alley, in this attempt, there is serious strain. As soon as you start, there are these sharp pains through your heart, and the wind is knocked out of you with such force that you actually start coughing and spluttering. You tremble and shiver, and without intending to, your finger withdraws from the targeted pile prematurely, well before the reaction there could ever have hoped of reaching completion. Swearing under what little breath remains to you, you reconnect with the pile, trying to brute force what remains of the cast into a sustainable condition. Alarmingly, the strain is much milder than it was just seconds ago, which could indicate that the Strangeness is becoming more inured against Salt-Remediation. Desperate not to repeat your mistakes, you push the cast to limits, but when the increased load does not correspond to increased strain, you fear that you have frayed this spell as well.

Still, you are not willing to give up while the spell is still limping along, so you use your off hand to set up a bridge to a new pile for the reaction. The hope is that if the cast could somehow make it across, you might be able to resuscitate it, by treating it as if it was a brand-new cast. is dangerous – if you are in contact with the target when the spell is ready to bridge, it is possible that the cast moves into you instead of the new intended target … and while you are still more than a little Strange at the moment, the last thing that you want to be right now is Remediated. But as this is your best bet of saving the cast, you take the risk – willingly.

In the end, it turns out you were in no real danger. Despite your best efforts to throttle it up, the magical reaction was simply not in a state where it was capable of moving to a new target – intended or otherwise. At this point, you are not even mad at yourself. You are scared. Maybe getting this alley back to a mundane state is not a matter of life and death, but what if it was? You need to be able to perform these spells at a moment’s notice.
>>
You steel yourself as best you can and try the cast once more, praying that you have not ruined things here as well. Blessedly, the spell actually initializes and reaches completion properly this time, and you are able to bridge the cast up and down the gutter, cleansing about half of all of the Strangeness present before the reaction finally peters out when you attempted to shepherd the cast across a longer bridge. Feeling much better about yourself, you take a moment to double check that the remaining mounds are still all neat and tidy, going as far to remake a few of them that appear to have spread out just a little too much. Satisfied, you brace yourself once more and reach for a mound. This time, the strain really does hit like a stunning sledge, enough that you see spots – separate from what you are seeing with the Strange-Staining Scarification Glyph. But even as you reel, you keep your finger planted, pressing firmly down on the grains. Before your very eyes, you can see the salt in the targeted mound change color, and when you feel the strain start to let off, you smile in spite of yourself. But when you cannot interact with the cast, that grin slips. And moments later, when all of the strain disappears, a small little wail escapes your lips.

Embarrassed at this outburst, you clamp your mouth shut, but take no further action. You remain stock still, just kneeling there on cobblestones, the shape of which you can feel, even through the material of your dress and your apron. What are you doing wrong?

You stay there, kneeling on the cobblestones in front of the gutter, looking disbelievingly at the Strangeness that you have failed to remove. Trying not to lose what remains of your composure, you try to cast Salt-Remediation one more time. Just like with the patch over the cobblestones, you are now unable to even initialize the spell. Sick to your stomach with disappointment, you grab the bag of salt, and move to the third spot of Strangeness in the alley, where the bird was perched. Getting up there with the bag is a bit complicated, but at least the bit of struggle that you have is good for keeping you from dwelling on your failures here. As you get yourself situated, you realize that you are not going to be able to reliably bridge anything while you are hanging off of the ledge of this buildings roof. Which means you are going to have to hammer cast this.

Even under typical circumstances, hammer casting is more dangerous than chained casting. But here? If the strain of the spell is too much, you could lose your grip and fall. You are only three, maybe four feet off of the ground at the moment, but still … you could potentially sprain or roll your ankle. Maybe you could even fall headfirst. You are not sure how you could manage to do that, but with the way your luck has been running in this alley, you are sure that you could probably find a way to seriously fray yourself.
>>
Still, in spite of all of the failures here, you feel compelled to at least try. Especially after you decided against even trying to help the Coroners after they were exposed to the Strangeness by touching the graven ball. By now, they have been traipsing the Strangeness all over the Midden for … what, two days now? Of course, considering just how poorly you have been handling the Remediations in this alley, odds are that you wouldn’t have helped anything … but just … turning your back on them, on the Midden …

You don’t know if it was a mistake. But what you do know for a surety is that you feel like an absolute heel on account of it. After that … dereliction of duty, you feel obligated to do … something! Anything! There was that pump or valve or whatever in the Heights of Hell it was in the Refinery, but of course, you are not sure if you made things better or worse. At the very least, with this alley, you are certain that you can do something positive. Even if it is such a small thing, even if the odds are that no one was going to be endangered when the Glyphed Gull died. You have to do this, if only to prove to the Patternmaker – and to yourself – that you still really are trying to do the right thing, to protect people with your gift.

Before you allow yourself to get too emotional, you get the salt down, and prepare for a one-off hammer cast of Salt-Remediation. As soon as you are certain that the salt is down in all the right places, you press your hands down into it as hard as you can, offer up a quick prayer as you steel yourself, and then you try the cast.

The strain hits hard, harder than any of the other times you have tried Salt-Remediation in this alley, but it tapers off quickly. As it passes, you can feel the cast blazing through the salt, chewing through the Strangeness. It might not have been a perfect cast, but it was damned close, and after all of the failure here, you have to calm yourself down, lest you risk screwing this up. Blessedly, you are able to control yourself – and the spell. Before you even know it, the cast smothers itself once it runs out of Strangeness to remediate.

Feeling buoyed and fortified by your unexpected success, you climb down to the alley with the bag of salt in hand. You are just about ready to take a crack at the rock when Giotto and his brothers across the Mount ring in the fourteenth hour. Pattern’s Perdition! Where in the Heights has the time gone? You have ended up spending way way too much time here, and you still need to clean some stuff up. You go back and forth a bit on it, but in the end you decide that as long as the Strangeness on the cobblestones is not communicable, you will leave it and the rest of the Strangeness in the alley be. You are not thrilled about leaving another mess behind, but at least with this one you are confident that you have actually improved something. The rest of the mess here you will wipe up with the rags.
>>
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Before you get to wiping everything down, however, you should decide what to do with the salt that you left behind. A lot of it is still in decent condition.

>Please choose ONE of the following:
>Leave the salt that was used here behind in the alley.
>Take the salt that was used here with you but dump it elsewhere.
>Take the salt that was used here with you, keep it for later use.
>>
>>5374554
To explain this vote a little bit more, trying to recover salt will take additional time (obviously). Beyond that, if salt is recovered again and again, eventually enough grit and dirt and used salt will get mixed in with the fresh stuff, and it efficacy will be reduced. The upside to recovery is that you get to stretch your stores for as long as possible.
>>
>>5374554
No hint or idea for testing the gull from that 92 roll huh? God, we suck at everything.
>Quickly grab the biggest chunks, and leave the rest.
We’ve wasted too much time on this excursion- which is probably doomed to fail with our recent black luck. At this point I just want to get the shopping shit over with so we can investigate/loot that House for clues and shit.

Can we cover up the remaining salt with other shit? It probably won’t stop Sherlock from figuring out what happened, but it’ll at least take him a minute or two to piece it together.
>>
>>5374554
>Quickly grab the biggest chunks(dispose of it elsewhere), and leave the rest.
>>
>>5374772
supporting
>>
>>5374554
>>Take the salt that was used here with you, keep it for later use.
Salt's expensive! Maybe not here by the sea, but out in the Hinterlands? Pain in the ass or not Chlot will need salt.
>>
Okay, lets see what we have; two votes for recovering the easiest piles, one vote for recovering everything, and one vote for recovering the easiest piles and then dumping them elsewhere. That is a decent enough spread to consider this vote closed.

>>5374772
While the Master Abbot is very perceptive, and cautious by nature, he is not by any stretch of the imagination omnipotent. None of the Inquisitors are, they are just men. And at the moment, dealing with the disaster at Gothorum One is going to be their obvious priority. That doesn't mean that they are going to forget about constructs that they found at that Cockpit or the 'device' they found in the apartment, and that does not mean that they are not going to try to follow leads on their investigation while they also oversee the cleanup down at the wharves. But you have to ask yourselves, does the Inquisition have any reason to believe that Sty the Leper is not exactly who she says she is - at least at this point in time? She came up clean on that new-model Spot-Dosimeter, and immediately after she was invited into the Master Abbot's carriage for a conversation. That should be taken into consideration.

Also, you did get some inspiration, but that is going to play out later. Right now you need to get out of this alley.
>>
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Spurred into action by the passing of the fourteenth hour, you retreat to the cart and grab several more of the most threadbare rags. With them, you wipe up the little bit of blood and spittle that ended up in the shallow gutter after you knocked the bird down there, then you do the same for the perch, which unfortunately has the frothy discharge you encountered during your Mitigation of the Gull, in addition to the blood. Blessedly, neither the Strangeness in the gutter or on the ledge are communicable, as you expected, and all things considered, your cleaning does not take overly long. Unfortunately, the rags are thin enough that you can feel everything through them as you work, and as they are threadbare, here and there the … slurry and offal of the bird squeezes through the fabric and gets directly on your hands.

Of course, you are not some blanching coquette – you don’t allow this unpleasantness of the sights and smells and sensations to slow you down, or even to really get to you. But … as the rag you are cleaning with at the moment becomes completely saturated with … you are not even sure what exactly, you find yourself almost wishing that you were rough cutting a grave … with a penknife, instead of the usual mattock or ‘toothpick’.

As the entire selection of rags that you grabbed have been … uh, overcome, you dig through your hand cart until you uncover the brazier that you bought, and you stuff them inside. Between the lid of the brazier and the bulk from the rest of your purchases, there should be enough between the rags and the outside air to prevent anyone from smelling anything untoward. This does mean that now you are going to need to clean the damned brazier later, but as you don’t have the time to safely burn the rags right now, you are just going to have to deal with it. Stifling a sigh, you grab another few rags, this time selecting ones that are not quite so threadbare, and then you turn your attention to cleaning up the operating theatre.

Because of the Salt-Mitigation that you performed, the majority of the … mess that occurred on the cobblestones has been partially cooked and partially congealed. A third of looks to be easier to clean than the ledge and the gutter, a third of it looks to be more difficult and a third of it looks to be just as easy. That said, the operating theatre accounts for about two times the area of the gutter and the ledge combined, so it is fairly obvious that this is going to take longer. But before you can start though, you are going to have to make sure that the Strangeness here is not communicable.

Not wanting to tarry anymore than you already have here, you drop one of the rags into the middle of the operating theatre, and pensively watch as it lands directly on top of the shifting stains. You stare intently for at least a dozen seconds, the rag illuminated in the light of your still glowing eyes, but the stains do not propagate onto the fabric.
>>
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Just to be sure, you walk around the circle of salt, and attentively inspect the strip from all angles. When you still do not see any stains spreading, you whisk it up off of the cobblestones and turn it over, going over the entire surface of the rag. Finally satisfied that the Strangeness here is not communicable, you gingerly kneel down on the cobblestones and get to work cleaning up the operating theatre. Acutely aware of how much you still need to do today, you rush through this final bit of cleaning as fast as you possibly can. Minutes pass, and while there is still some offal remaining, cooked onto the stones underneath, you find yourself rapidly coming to the conclusion that you have done as much as you can here with only rags and elbow grease. Glad to be finished, though frustrated that you could not see the job through, you hustle over to the hand cart and stow the rags you just used with the others inside of the brazier.

> Lose twenty-four small rags
> Gain Ragged Seabird Corpse Wrap
> Lose four small rags (threadbare)
> Gain four heavily soiled small rags (threadbare)
> Lose nine small rags
> Gain nine heavily soiled small rags
> Lose one small rag
> Gain one marginally soiled small rag

Having cleaned as best as you can under the circumstances, you head over to underneath the ledge to retrieve your pound bag of salt. Upon lifting it up, however, you are shocked that you are able to notice a difference in the weight of the bag already. It is only a slight difference, to be sure, but you have owned the bag for what? An hour? An hour and a half? Obviously, you cannot afford to be such a spendthrift with your salt. Feeling a little bit frantic, you look over to the half-cleaned scene of the fatal Salt-Mitigation, and all of the completely unused salt you have left there. Perhaps it wouldn’t take too long, if you were to only attempt to recover the salt from the belt around the cobblestones?

You do, however, have enough presence of mind to not keep the recovered salt in the pound bag. So long as one knows that they might be using inferior or otherwise compromised working materials, there are ways to safely accommodate their use in spells, and in the case of salt and other inert materials, in shielding. However, things can get dangerous when a magician winds up using materials that are compromised without knowing that they are compromised. Later, when you have the time, you might be able to properly grade the salt you recover here, to determine if it is still as good as the fresh stuff, or if you need to attempt to screen and clean it up a bit first. Until then, to prevent any mix-ups, you are going to keep the recovered salt separate.

> Lose roughly 50 charges of sea-salt
> Gain roughly 30 charges of recovered sea-salt (grade unknown)
> The recovered sea-salt is currently being stored in the hood of the Hooded Black Riding Cloak, making it awkward to wear, until the salt is removed.
>>
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As you expected, the recovery process goes really quickly, and once you have the your recovered salt stowed away separately on the hand cart, all that is left to do is muss up the remaining mounds that you set up. Once you have done as much as you can do to obfuscate your work here, you take one final look around the alley to check for anything you might have missed. When nothing catches your attention, you leave the alley, and make you way back onto the thoroughfare. From there, you head towards the half of the Tarpaulin Market inside the Landward Walls, where there should be at least a few green grocers hawking their wares amongst all of the other merchants.

Unfortunately, as you draw closer, you can hear criers at work. At this distance, you cannot make out what they are saying, but considering that you know now that several around the Mount have been hired to disseminate a description of the pirate who knocked over the Euthyphro, perhaps lingering around there is not the best idea …

> Please choose ONE of the following:
> You shan’t be long. Besides, no one really thinks that a woman trussed up that Captain, right?
> Forget it, just … there are a hundred and one other things to do, most of which aren’t as risky. Go pick up your dresses instead.
> Forget it, just … there are a hundred and one other things to do, most of which aren’t as risky. Go … (write-ins subject to QM approval)
>>
>>5375473
> You shan’t be long. Besides, no one really thinks that a woman trussed up that Captain, right?

I really wanna see these groceries. Its gonna be rad. I can't hype this enough.
>>
>>5375473
Are we going in with our cart? If so, it isn’t worth it. I ain’t about to risk losing the shit just bought just because someone recognized us and we had to leave our shit behind in the retreat.
>>
>>5375473
Can't we just get close enough to see what they are crying about and then decide?
>>
>>5375627
I'll allow this, though I will point out that even if a crier is not talking about the Euthyphro at the moment, he might have talked about it earlier, or he might start while your walking through.

>>5375522
We still have our cart with us. To that end, we could take the time to find somewhere safe to stash it, but then we would be without it for any purchases that we might make.
>>
>>5375473
>> Forget it, just … there are a hundred and one other things to do, most of which aren’t as risky. Go pick up your dresses instead.
I think that when Chlot just got recognized by saffron-man, she'd be too paranoid to feel comfortable taking this risk, even if it's not that big. Clearly there are people who have it on their minds.
>>
>>5375473
> Forget it, just … there are a hundred and one other things to do, most of which aren’t as risky. Go pick up your dresses instead.

honestly, food is the thing we can get easiest in the countryside
>>
Alright, consider this closed. I will get to writing straight away.
>>
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Out of an abundance of caution, you decide against going any further. You simply stand out too much, and if someone attempted to detain you while you were tied up in the tangle of stalls and crowds, even in the best-case scenario, you cannot see how you would be able to get out of there with your cart. It is simply not a risk worth taking for fresh produce … and anyway, the odds that you would have the time to play around on the Life-Loom with anything you bought fresh before it started to rot is not particularly good. Once you have left the Mount, your best bet for making a clean break is to get as far away as fast as possible – making a point to take as few stops as you can. Preferably, you would be on the road day and night, but that would not be possible with just one set of horses.

Feeling frustrated with yourself that you came all of this way only to turn around at the last minute, you find yourself wondering if you are just jumping at shadows. Perhaps you are. But after being recognized by that Tartessian merchant, Eupator, you should not be taking risks like this for turnips. You turn your cart around and head back to Spinster’s Street, all the way over in Cleanport, keeping your head down and sticking to side streets whenever possible. There are some alleys on this route as well that you could save you a half a minute here and there, but unfortunately you cannot fit the cart through all of them, not to mention that muggers and cutpurses lurk in these alleys. Not many, mind you, as the Port Authority, for all of its faults, does keep footpads and muggers in check. Partly because they can pull talents directly from the Imperial Treasuries to pay for men, and partly because as an Organ of the Empire, they are exempt from paying the Arming Tax, which every Citizen, from Princes to merchants must pay to have armed men in their employ – in addition to licensing them, which typically involves additional costs. It is a good system for suppressing the growth of privately held armies, but as an armed watchman draws the same tax as a soldier, it does lead to some Vassal holdings not having enough Guards to properly keep the peace.

You recall your father once telling you about how there have been several attempts at addressing this over the last hundred years, by either creating some exemption for Guards, or tiering the tax. Conspicuously, none of these reforms ever left the Senate, even though it would have plainly been in their interest, as nearly all Senators are Vassals. Your father took as proof that the Senate was just as derelict in its duty as a balance as it was during the First Civil Interregnum. Whenever it would come up, he would roundly denounce their weakness and hypocrisy. You never really understood why father was so indignant about politics, and the failure of Arming Tax reform in particular, considering that fewer Guards were good for the two of you, but as he never appreciated those kind of questions you never asked.
>>
Did we just miss our chance to buy more stuff? I remember there being time to go to two different stores, did we run out of it dealing with the dead gull and wasting time in not going to the grocers?
>>
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Your reminiscing takes you most of the way to Spinster’s Street, but as you struggle a bit to get the cart up a particularly rough section of road, you recognize that eventually, you are going to have to do something about it. Obviously, you cannot take it with you when you head to the Liveries, not if you intend to pass yourself off as … well, now that you think about it, you haven’t really decided how you are going to present yourself there. Ah, just focus on one problem at a time.

Okay. You are going to have the cart with you at Hortingea’s. Do you risk asking them if you can leave it there? Or do you keep it with you when you go to Festive Fabricians? Should you try to find some place quiet where you could stash it? Maybe the best course of action here would be to take it all the way back to the Midden and stash it in the tunnels. It certainly would be safest, but considering just how sluggish that hand cart is, going all the way back to the Midden would burn through a lot of daylight.

>Please choose ONE of the following:
>You will take the hand cart to the Midden right now, then immediately double back and pick up your dresses.
>You will take the hand cart with you to Hortingea’s, then you will go to the Midden to drop it off, then you will go Festive Fabricians.
>You will take the hand cart with you to Hortingea’s then you will try to find somewhere nearby where you can stash the cart while you head to Festive Fabricians.
>You will take the hand cart with you to Hortingea’s and Festive Fabricians, then you will go to the Midden to drop it off.
>You will take the hand cart with you to Hortingea’s and Festive Fabricians, then you will try to find somewhere nearby where you can stash the cart while you continue your business on the Mount.

>>5376254
Dealing with the Gull did blow through a little bit of time, but that does not mean that the window of opportunity for shopping has closed. The dresses are available now, the repaired boots will be available soon, and because of the nature of their business, the operators of the Liveries work long hours, well past the typical closing time of most stores at the eighteenth hour. As it is almost half past the fourteenth, there is still quite a bit of time remaining. How much time remains will depend on how we choose to deal with the handcart.
>>
>>5376281
>You will take the hand cart with you to Hortingea’s then you will try to find somewhere nearby where you can stash the cart while you head to Festive Fabricians.
I’m not happy about this plan at all, but so long as getting the dress only takes a couple minutes, we should be alright, right?
>>
>>5376281
>>You will take the hand cart with you to Hortingea’s and Festive Fabricians, then you will try to find somewhere nearby where you can stash the cart while you continue your business on the Mount.
>>
>>5376281
>You will take the hand cart to the Midden right now, then immediately double back and pick up your dresses.

I'm having difficulties keeping track of our different cover stories and I imagine so does Clot
>>
>>5376692
Given that Chlot had a day or two to remember, and we have to remember tiny bits of information after months of not thinking about it, I think Chlot has a better grasp on her identities than we anons will ever achieve.
>>
Huh, still a tie. Well, nothing for it I guess. As much as I dislike doing so, if the tie is still in place by the time that I am ready to run in the afternoon, then I will have no choice but to roll for it.
>>
>>5377528
Honestly? It’s a tough call that I didn’t really want to make. I chose us to keep it close to save on time (since I figured that we’re buying a wagon anyway, might as well use it to store some of our shit and simplify the logistical issues) and to not go to the expensive dress shop with it to not raise any eyebrows, but thinking about the logistical nightmare of all of this is giving me a headache, and the paranoia that something will go wrong no matter what isn’t helping it. I’d almost rather we investigate the deadman’s house, mostly because I feel the issues with that would be far simpler so solve, but we do need this buying spree, don’t we?
>>
>>5376281
>You will take the hand cart with you to Hortingea’s then you will try to find somewhere nearby where you can stash the cart while you head to Festive Fabricians.

Uhhhhhhh. Been thinking on it, the choices are so balanced, so I'm really just going with my gut here.

>You will take the hand cart with you to Hortingea’s then you will try to find somewhere nearby where you can stash the cart while you head to Festive Fabricians.
>>
Alright, good. I will get to writing as soon as I can. Expect the update later tonight.
>>
>>5377993
Update on the update, I'm not going to have it finished for tonight after all. Apologies.

Instead, I'm going to reconduct a vote from nearly a year ago now. Normally, I would let an older vote stand, but it has been so long, and now you guys have a better grasp on the Inquisition and what they are capable of, I think that it is worth asking this one again.

Should Chlotsuintha leave some sort of secret message for her father about her departure?
>Please choose ONE of the following:
>Yes
>No

Should Chlotsuintha leave some indication as to where she is going in that secret message?
>Please choose ONE of the following:
>Yes, she should give as much pertinent information as she can, such as direction, intended heading, and means of conveyance. If her father finds the message, odds are as good as they can be that he will be able to track her down.
>Yes, she should give some indication as to her heading - like 'Frontier Provinces' - but nothing more specific than that. If her father finds the message, there is a slim chance that he will be able to work out where she is.
>No, she should not give any indication as to her heading. This effectively precludes any chance at a reunion.
>>
>>5378235
>Yes
>Yes, she should give some indication as to her heading - like 'Frontier Provinces' - but nothing more specific than that. If her father finds the message, there is a slim chance that he will be able to work out where she is.
>>
>>5378235
>No
>No, she should not give any indication as to her heading. This effectively precludes any chance at a reunion.

Sorry dad, maybe don't leave your only daughter at the mercy of people who would love to torture her next time.
>>
>>5378235
Shit that's a tough one with Sherlock and his paladins on our ass. Going for the fenceshitter option:
>Yes
>Yes, she should give some indication as to her heading - like 'Frontier Provinces' - but nothing more specific than that. If her father finds the message, there is a slim chance that he will be able to work out where she is.

as a reminder, when is daddy's deadline again? Have we already passed it?
>>
>>5378299
>Addendum. Leave additional note sending the reader to another location with intentionally wrong information only Dad and we would know to tip him off that its bullshit.
>>
>>5378235
>Yes
>Yes, she should give as much pertinent information as she can, such as direction, intended heading, and means of conveyance. If her father finds the message, odds are as good as they can be that he will be able to track her down.
I think the chance of meeting Father again is well worth the risk. I will add
>Don’t put the secret message in the belfry, instead put it in a place only you and Father would know about, and leave a false goodbye message with a cryptic hint as to the location of the secret message.
Father didn’t raise an idiot. Ok, maybe he did, but that’s not the point here…
>>
>>5378437
Shit. I'm chaning my vote to this. Perfect.
>>
>>5378235
>>Yes
>>Yes, she should give some indication as to her heading - like 'Frontier Provinces' - but nothing more specific than that. If her father finds the message, there is a slim chance that he will be able to work out where she is.
>>
>No
>No, she should not give any indication as to her heading. This effectively precludes any chance at a reunion.
>>
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You go back and forth on it for a while, but in the end, you decide to find somewhere to stash the cart after taking delivery of the remaining two dresses at Hortingea’s and before taking deliver of the riding dress – or riding habit, apparently – at Festive Fabricians. What made up your mind was the realization that you are probably not going to be able to walk into the Fabricians, pick up the dress and leave, like you are going to be able to do at Hortingea’s establishment. Cassandra, no doubt wanting to be sure that you never blacken her doorstep again, will want to make sure that the dress fits properly, that you have no issues with it. Now, that is not really unreasonable, especially considering that when you were there last, you threatened her with a lawsuit. The issue is that getting undressed, getting dressed, having final adjustments made – all of that is going to take time. Fifteen minutes, half an hour, who knows?

Of course, the issue is not really the time spent in the fitting room – no, the issue is where is the hand cart going to be while the final adjustments are being made. Are you going to be able to bring the cart into Festive Fabricians with you? If push comes to shove, you might not, even with vague threats of a lawsuit – as Cassandra clearly has some really powerful friends. In her office, behind her desk, and under protective glass, is a stack about two inches thick of nothing but ultramarine ribbons – the kinds that can only be given to artisans and merchants by Princes, to signify that the holder has had the high honor of having a Prince as a customer. You had never actually seen any before, but that is not too hard to understand, considering the kinds and quality of the stores that you go to. What is hard to understand is why Cassandra is not displaying them publicly. Seems like a real wasted opportunity for her business, not to mention a slight to those who gave them to her. Hmm … perhaps she just makes the ribbons for Princes instead?

Ah, it is six in one, half dozen in another. Unless she is counterfeiting the damned things, she is doing business with royalty, one way or another. And if you make yourself enough of a nuisance, she might figure she account of that business, she has enough pull on the Forum to call your bluff. So … that leaves you with precious little leverage to get the hand cart into Festive Fabricians with you, which means that if you want to play things safe – and for the Mercy of the Maker, you do – you are going to have to get the cart situated away safely before you ever set foot into Festive Fabricians. To that end you have a few ideas, though none of them are entirely satisfactory, all for different reasons.
>>
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>Please choose ONE of the following:
>Ask Hortingea – or more likely, Bertrada – if you can park the cart in a dressing room for a few hours.
>Look around Spinster’s Street. If your luck runs white, you might be able to find somewhere you could secret the cart for an hour, maybe two.
>Rent a room on the first floor of a public house, one with proper locks on their doors.
>>
>>5378235
>>No
>No, she should not give any indication as to her heading. This effectively precludes any chance at a reunion.
This is what he would want her to do, given his final instructions, as near as I can tell
Also, Chlot is once again underwearless and going to a fitting! Quite silly to do once and sillier to do it twice. Hopefully she's just too weird and volatile for Cassandra to be nosey about.
>>5378714
>Look around Spinster’s Street. If your luck runs white, you might be able to find somewhere you could secret the cart for an hour, maybe two.
Chlot's story to Hortingea is that of a rather poor maid, someone who can't afford some of even the simplest necessities, iirc. So it'd be rather odd for her to have the trust of someone who would legitimately own such a piled-up load of goodies as she has.
>>
>>5378801
That chemise is Strange, and on top of that really should be cleaned, on account of some spattering on the hem and a pervasive smell of smoke from the Refinery disaster. Chlotsuintha made a judgement call that wearing underwear like that would probably raise a lot more eyebrows than simply showing up without underwear.
>>
>>5378714
>Rent a room on the first floor of a public house, one with proper locks on their doors.

Need to get some practice at this anyways.
>>
>>5378714
>If your luck runs white
That’s funny.
>Rent a room on the first floor of a public house, one with proper locks on their doors.
Frankly, I’m of the opinion that we should do one last money heist, just so we don’t have to risk it in the boonies. The concentration of wealth here is a boon, and this place will be on lockdown whenever the Inquisition realizes the extent of the Strangeness contamination.

>>5378876
Can we steal a pair, or buy some?
>>
>>5378437
Support, and if Father created a cypher, we should use it as well.

>>5378714
>Ask Hortingea – or more likely, Bertrada – if you can park the cart in a dressing room for a few hours.
>>
>>5378714
>>Ask Hortingea – or more likely, Bertrada – if you can park the cart in a dressing room for a few hours.
>>
>>5378922
I als believe an additional heist could go well, though we will likely spend the time investigating Aldoin's house I guess we can rob it too.
>>
>>5378956
Father developed a number of cyphers to encrypt his journals and notes. Unfortunately, he never actually taught Chlotsuintha how to read any of them, out of the fear that if she could, she would attempt to read his work and attempt magic that she was not ready for.
>>
>>5378714
>>Rent a room on the first floor of a public house, one with proper locks on their doors.
>>
Okay, that is three votes for renting a room in a public house. I'll get to writing this up as soon as I can.
>>
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As you get closer and closer to Spinster's Street, it occurs to you that you might be making trouble for yourself if you take the hand cart with you into Hortingea's after all. You have presented yourself as a freshly made maid, and while you had the money to afford the triple rush order of domestic dresses, at no point did you ever indicate that this was your money ... which might lead others to make the patently reasonable assumption that this money was your fictitious employer instead. Then you played into the whole 'out-of-her-depth-domestic-servant' without even really intending to by accepting that chemise. Your concern is how that image is going to hold up if you roll into their store with a cart loaded down with brand-new housewares and luxury goods.

Obviously, you have done your best to conceal the most valuable of your recent purchases, but even with this consideration, you are still hauling around a bountifully laden cart. Now, you could try to pass it all off as if your new Mistress and Master sent you out on your first day to do some shopping ... which on one hand, might raise some eyebrows, but on the other, is consistent with 'them' giving you the money to go out and commission your dresses yourself. Alternatively, you could just sidestep those pesky sorts of questions entirely, if you were able to find someplace before you got Hortingea's to stash the cart. If you could pull that off, it would simplify things a great deal, wouldn't it?

Any further consideration of this point is interrupted when you finally run out of near-desolate side streets and alleys to cut through, and find yourself forced to make your way out onto a distressingly crowded thoroughfare. Unfortunately, the only spot where you have enough room to comfortably pull your cart at the moment is through the gutter. Some consolation at least, that this is Cleanport. If this was Stickport ... Maker's Mercy, what a mess that would be. Well, at least you would be wearing the right sort of boots for it.

Blessedly, before you attract too much notice for traipsing through the unclean gutter like some manner of Leper, there is enough of an opening that you can actually make your way out onto the proper road. You continue to make your way towards Spinster's Street, all the time keeping one eye on the cart to make sure that none try to molest it, and the other on the gutter, to make sure that you don't wind up back in there. You look damned odd enough as it is on your own, you don't need to be seen dragging your body and your soul through filth out in public like that. Feeling a bit of a headache coming on, you return your attention to the question of when - and where - to stash the hand cart. The more you think about it, the more you want to get the cart situated before going to Hortingea's. Partly because you want to avoid questions if you can help it, and partly because you don't want them to think that you took advantage of them.
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Especially because you did take advantage of them.

You actually have to stifle a sigh at the thought. With no end of things that you have done - and not done - weighing on you, you are almost surprised just how much of cur taking that bit of undeserved charity from them makes you feel. Obviously, you have a lot more important things to think about at the moment, but before you turn your attention to them, you reaffirm the promise that you made to yourself - somehow, you are going to pay Hortingea and Bertrada back. You don't know how, especially considering that once you leave tonight or tomorrow, you very well may never set foot in the Mount ever again. But out of all of the things you have done wrong in the past few days, this is the one thing that you might actually be able to fix.

Feeling a little fortified by your retreaded resolution, you direct your attention to much more pressing matters. The cart, and where, not to mention when, you are going to stash the damned thing. You have already decided that getting it secreted away before going to either of the dressmakers would be for the best ... but that only works if you can find somewhere before you get there. This is Cleanport, not the Upper Boardwalk or the Lower Terraces - there simply are not abandoned buildings and quiet side streets and alleys anywhere near here. Would it be worth it to go all the way back there? Honestly, it might, if it got you out of asking awkward questions. Still, doing so would burn a lot of daylight. Already, you must be closer to the fifteenth hour than the fourteenth. How long would it take to find a suitable spot? And accounting for the walk back to Cleanport and then on to Spinster's Street, and however much time the final adjustments would take at Cassandra's ... and you still need to swing back to the cobbler to pick up your boots. Obviously, you cannot go stamping through the Midden in these Oilers, even if the damned things finally stop their squeaking.

Suddenly, it occurs to you that you could just find a public house and rent a room for the night. Certainly, a domestic servant with a pushcart renting a room for herself might raise some eyebrows - but if you were able to convince the cobbler to sell you men's clothing, then you should be able to wheedle a room for the night. And of course, money is not an issue - unless you have either grossly underestimated the amount of talents you have with you, or grossly underestimated the cost of a wagon or carriage and a team of horses to pull it, you still have way more talents that you should ever need to secure a way out of the Mount. Smiling broadly at your stroke of genius, you crane your neck, looking for a public house, one that advertises locks and keys on its shingles.
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Several minutes pass, but you cannot lay your eyes on any public houses, with or without locking doors. You shouldn't be too surprised though, as most of them are closer to the harbor to catch the custom off of the ships. Still, you cannot help but feel frustrated ... until, after another several minutes have passed, when you find exactly you are looking for, just two streets up from Spinster's Street. Right at the nearest corner of the upcoming intersection, it sits, a homely looking hodgepodge of hewn lumber, rising to an imposing - if not concerning - five stories. From where you are at the moment, you cannot see a name, but you can clearly see the trademark for a public house, painted ten feet tall on its third story. More than that, you can see it's shingles - and hanging underneath a singularly large shingle that depicts what looks to be a canopy bed with spears for the posts, there are smaller shingles advertising specific amenities - one of which clearly depicts a lock and key.

Smiling broadly, you start to wrestle your cart onto the sidewalk ... which is when to your shock, Strange-Staining suddenly activates. There are partial footprints on the sidewalk, what appears to be two different sets of them. They might have been made at the same time, by two people walking together, or they might have been made hours or even days apart, possibly even by the same person. You cannot really tell from this position. For a split second, you wonder if father made them, and your heart soars ... until you realize that even incomplete as they are, you can tell that the boot that must have made them would be too small to fit father's feet, and your heart plummets, as if he just left you again. As you stare at them, a passerby just walks straight through them, and you cannot help but wince - even though the footprints clearly are not communicably Strange. If they were, then this entire sidewalk would be smothered right now.

Not wanting to draw any more attention to yourself than you already are by being a six foot, four inch woman, you wrangle your cart up onto the sidewalk, and cautiously follow the footsteps, giving them as much of a berth as you can. As you do, you make a point to not look at them directly ... though if anyone was watching for a reaction to these footprints, you might have already given yourself away with that abrupt stop. The thought gives you a rapidly sinking pit in your stomach, but as there is nothing that you can do about it now, you keep your composure as best you possibly can. As you draw near the intersection, you consider just turning around and walking away, but as that might give yourself away as well, you decide against it, at least for now.

As your gait slows and stiffens, your mind is racing, considering all of the ways that a partial footprint could have been left behind. For it to be possible, the sole of the boot that made the print would have to be both Strange in the Second Degree and incompletely covered.
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And there are only three ways that would be possible. If part of the sole was shielded, if part of the sole was made from inert material, and if the sole - and presumably, the rest of the boot - was improperly Mitigated or Remediated. Now, it does not seem likely that anyone is just walking around in public with salted or lead-layered soles. And considering how irregular the imprints are, it is not likely that portions of the sole of the shoe or boot that made these prints were inert - and that is not even considering that all of the inert materials that you know of - salt, lead, quicksilver, and a family of rare gases - are completely unsuitable to make soles out of in the first place. So, by process of elimination, that leaves improper, or at least incomplete, Mitigation or Remediation. And while one can perform Mitigations and Remediations without the use of magic ... there is a very real question as to how whoever did this knew that there was Strangeness on those boots in the first place.

Now, an Inquisitor, or a Cleanser would be able to get a Dosimetrist to tell them, but then they wouldn't just half-ass a Mitigation and then go wandering around in the those same boots. Now that you think about it, they would kept under curative custody, actually. But on the other hand, someone with a Strange-Staining scarification glyph, or some equivalent, would be able to tell. Why wouldn't they see the cleansing through to the end properly though? Well ... probably for the same reason that you didn't see the Remediation in the alley all the way through; there were other more pressing matters to attend to. Though things would have to be really bad for you to go walking around in communicably Strange boots, leaving a trail behind you. As in, imminent-danger-to-life-and-limb bad.

You find yourself wondering how those boots got that Strange in the first place. Was it from the Morgue? The Refinery? Aldoin's house? Is there somewhere or something else in the Mount that is at least Strange in the Third degree? Maker's Mercy, this is the exact last thing you - and for that matter, everyone else - needs at the moment. You begin to offer up a quick, silent prayer ... but when you see that the footprints lead into the wide open door of the public house, you completely lose your train of thought. And once it occurs to you that there are no footprints leading out, you realize that you have to -

>Please choose ONE of the following:
>Avoid this place at all costs. Find another public house, no matter how long it takes.
>For now, find another public house, no matter how long it takes. But later, return here to investigate.
>Head in right now. Whoever made these prints might not still be here if you put this off.
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Alright, that is going to wrap it up for this thread. If we can get enough votes in between now and tonight, I might be able to get thread IX (which is really thread VII, as I shouldn't count the intermission) up tonight as well.

As an additional consideration, what you you guys like to see for the opening of the new thread?

>Please choose ONE of the following:
>The next part of the Tragical Ballad
>Another excerpt from In Outremer
>An excerpt from one of the books from the Comptroller's Office

If you have any questions about the quest or the setting, or any comments in general, please let me know. Otherwise, I hope to see you all soon in the new thread!
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>>5380756
>Head in right now. Whoever made these prints might not still be here if you put this off.

We will regret it if we don't.
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>>5380786
>An excerpt from one of the books from the Comptroller's Office
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>>5380756
>Head in right now. Whoever made these prints might not still be here if you put this off.
Sneak in though. We’re still Strange, and this bastard has a Strange-Staining scarification glyph. I just want to get a good look at the bastard before we put our shit somewhere else.

>>5380786
>An excerpt from one of the books from the Comptroller's Office
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>>5381148
For clarification, Chlotsuintha does not know for sure that whoever left those prints - or rather, whoever attempted to Remediate or Mitigate those boots - has a Strange-Staining scarification glyph, or some magical equivalent. It is entirely possible that whoever is responsible for the state of those boots had no way of knowing for sure that they were in fact spreading the Strangeness, and simply guessed, much like the Coroners did.

She is guessing that they did, half out of an abundance of caution, and half out of consideration of the fact that they were competent enough to at least get half of the boot to Strange in the First Degree, or less.

>>5380846
>>5381148
Do either of you guys have a preference on which book?

>Please choose ONE of the following:
>The Oiler’s Abyssal Bestiary: As this text is written in Reichtongue, and not in Lingua Roma, you know immediately that this text is ‘vulgar’ as opposed to academic. Still, judging by the table of contents, it covers a decent amount of information about the creatures that the Oilers hunt for, a topic that you are completely unfamiliar with.
>Fundamentals of Lifting Oil: The only text in the stack that is in Lingua Roma, this is clearly geared towards a student of the instrumental sciences. You have no doubt that there is a lot in there that you can use if you wanted to mess around with floating constructs or something like that, but it will be a struggle getting it out of this particular text.
>On the Manufacture of Wandering Whistlers: You know very little about these specialized floating munitions, except that the Emperor tightly controls their production, that the highest grades of Lifting Oil are earmarked to be used in their production, and that they are the most effective weapon the Empire has against Macrobia’s Pygmy Dragons. The binding of this text is stamped CONTROLLED, just like the ledgers in one of the strongboxes. If you wanted to make mundane mechanical devices that float or fly, there would be some good information in this book. Beyond that, it could prove very valuable to the right buyer, or very dangerous if it was found in your possession …
>The Humors of Industries: An oddity of a book, this is a medical text on ailments common to industrial workers, apparently organized by specific industry. There is very little information on how to treat these ailments however, the text seems to be more concerned with how to keep men healthy for as long as it is feasible, then how to identify ailing workers for replacement.
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>>5380756
>>Avoid this place at all costs. Find another public house, no matter how long it takes.

>>5380786
>>An excerpt from one of the books from the Comptroller's Office

>>5381160
>>Fundamentals of Lifting Oil: The only text in the stack that is in Lingua Roma, this is clearly geared towards a student of the instrumental sciences. You have no doubt that there is a lot in there that you can use if you wanted to mess around with floating constructs or something like that, but it will be a struggle getting it out of this particular text.
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>>5381160

>The Humors of Industries: An oddity of a book, this is a medical text on ailments common to industrial workers, apparently organized by specific industry. There is very little information on how to treat these ailments however, the text seems to be more concerned with how to keep men healthy for as long as it is feasible, then how to identify ailing workers for replacement.
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>>5381160
>It is entirely possible that whoever is responsible for the state of those boots had no way of knowing for sure that they were in fact spreading the Strangeness, and simply guessed, much like the Coroners did.
Our luck is never that white. We’re clearly treading on disarming nuke territory here.

>The Oiler’s Abyssal Bestiary: As this text is written in Reichtongue, and not in Lingua Roma, you know immediately that this text is ‘vulgar’ as opposed to academic. Still, judging by the table of contents, it covers a decent amount of information about the creatures that the Oilers hunt for, a topic that you are completely unfamiliar with.
But if it’s expedient just go with the Fundamentals, k QM?
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>>5380756
>>Head in right now. Whoever made these prints might not still be here if you put this off.
>An excerpt from one of the books from the Comptroller's Office
>>>The Oiler’s Abyssal Bestiary: As this text is written in Reichtongue, and not in Lingua Roma, you know immediately that this text is ‘vulgar’ as opposed to academic. Still, judging by the table of contents, it covers a decent amount of information about the creatures that the Oilers hunt for, a topic that you are completely unfamiliar with.
>>
>>5380756
>Head in right now. Whoever made these prints might not still be here if you put this off.

this is the best clue yet for dad's whereabouts
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>>5380786
>Another excerpt from In Outremer
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>>5381160
>Head in right now. Whoever made these prints might not still be here if you put this off.

>An excerpt from one of the books from the Comptroller's Office

>The Oiler’s Abyssal Bestiary: As this text is written in Reichtongue, and not in Lingua Roma, you know immediately that this text is ‘vulgar’ as opposed to academic. Still, judging by the table of contents, it covers a decent amount of information about the creatures that the Oilers hunt for, a topic that you are completely unfamiliar with.
>>
Alright, that is a pretty commanding lead. Time is a little short tonight for me, so I might not get this up until tomorrow after all - but either way, we will resume soon!

Thanks to everyone for a wonderful thread, and I hope to see you all shortly!



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