>>5678107
>You are the village cursebreaker, with the arcane aptitude and training to pick apart magic, hostile and otherwise.

>>5678107
>You are a hunter and trapper by trade, with the right instincts to make a good trap spotter.
Oh boy, I wonder what is going to go wrong here.

>>5678116
A clever writer of titles I am not.

>>5678107
>You are a local stablehand, here to manage and mules and carry out the loot.
I love a good worthless protag, building them up is fun

>>5678107
>You are the village cursebreaker, with the arcane aptitude and training to pick apart magic, hostile and otherwise.

>>5678107

> You are the village cursebreaker, with the arcane aptitude and training to pick apart magic, hostile and otherwise.

My body is ready for an original quest QM

>>5678107
>> You are the village healer's apprentice, here to be backup for the delver's healer

>>5678107
>You are the village cursebreaker, with the arcane aptitude and training to pick apart magic, hostile and otherwise.

> Curse Breaker

You reply. "Trap."

The three delvers halt in place, one just about to pass through the archway. "Where!? It's the damn entrance!"

You step up next to him and fish one of the tools of your trade out, technically a possession of the village. It's a cloudy monocle, rimmed in silver. You hold the glass up, and through it is revealed a single black corded rope tightly strung between the floor and ceiling. The delver hisses in response.

"Well? Get rid of it!" The delver stamps his foot impatiently as you nod and move closer, fitting the monocle to one eye. Out comes your spell cutter, a silver knife with a hooked tip and different sized holes along the blade. You study the hostile magic for a moment, then cut through the middle of the black rope in one quick motion made at arm's length. The two halves of the rope snap toward the floor and ceiling and dissipate into black smoke visible even to the delvers.

You sag in relief, suddenly aware of your heart hammering against your chest. What were you thinking? A thread of death magic like that was enough to rot the flesh off someone's arm, your arm. Two of the delvers shoved past you and walked over the threshold of the dungeon.

"Stop gawking and get a move on."

You swallow and nod, stepping over the threshold into a crumbling tunnel sloping downward made of old weathered bricks. All a sham of course, you knew for a fact that a month ago none of this was here.

"Five gold says goblins." The lead delver says.

"Hah! You're on. Slimes."

They both looked back expectantly at the third delver, the only woman of the three, who shrugged.

"Spiders."

"There's no webs though."

The female delver just smiled and glanced over at you.

"Are you alright? I know they're assholes, but they'll keep you safe. And I'll put you back together if they don't." The tunnel continues to darken as you descend and the woman holds up a fist. "A torch lights the way." Her fist pulses with light and she lowers it, leaving a shining orb that pushes back the darkness. It hovers in the air above the delver, no, torch.

It takes you a minute to realize you're staring at the casual display of magic. "Ah, uh, thank you..."

"Katrina. Torch Katrina if you want to be official, but please don't. Those two just ahead are Delver Michael and Delver Anders."

"Ah, I'm..."

> Alexa (Alexandria)
> Liz (Elizabeth)
> Donna (Belladonna)
> Write in

>>5678424
> Write in
Idrid, the town guard who would rather be at the orange core dungeon instead of here.

>>5678424

Aeger (male), the reedy scholar turned mercenary

>>5678428

Let's go with Idrid.

Hopefully you enjoy this one too.

“Idrid.” You answer, and prepare to answer the inevitable follow up question.

"Pleased to meet you, Cursebreaker Idrid. Haven’t heard that name before, sounds a bit elvish."

They continued down the tunnel by Katrina’s magical light. You smile at the content. “Got the name from my grandmother who was half elf. She was a dungeon guardian actually, before...”

“Before the dungeons went bad.” The both of you look around the crumbling stone of the tunnel passage and your mind turns to the two children the dungeon took already..

You grimace. “She said it was a good place, but all I ever knew was stories from my mom.” You shake off that batch of old memories. “What is a torch doing all the way out here? It’s a long way from Holos.”

Katrina grimaced. "Luck mostly. I’m on my way somewhere else when I met a traveler who told me about your situation. Managed to hire those two, then you, and hopefully that's enough to break this place."

"Spiders!" Both of you snap your heads toward the sound.

"Stay close!"

Katrina moves with surprising speed, a long mace in her right hand. You chase after, feet stumbling under you as the spiders come into view around a bend in the tunnel, each one the size of a terrier hound. The delvers have slain two already, hacking limbs from bodies with sword or ax. The torch moves past you, a glowing shield hovering just above her left arm, and crushes the body of a third spider. More of the monsters pour into the room from narrow alcoves along the ceiling, some skittering across the floor, others climbing up the walls and leaping.

“Flash!” Katrina called out.

“Fuck!” The light claws at your eyes like the mayor’s moonshine. The air fills with the sound of screeches and shattering chitin before you force your eyes open. One of the delvers had fared worse than you with the flash, still cursing and rubbing his eyes.

A spider, emblazoned with a red sigil is getting ready to pounce on him.

> Jump on it and stab it with your curse breaker knife
> Call it out for the other two
> Do nothing

>>5678685
> Jump on it and stab it with your curse breaker knife

>>5678685
> Call it out for the other two

>>5678685
>Jump on it and stab it with your curse breaker knife

>>5678685
>Jump on it and stab it with your curse breaker knife

You act without thinking, before sense or reason could seize your legs, and lunge at the spider, landing on its back. Your hands slip on the smooth chitin as the beast bucks and spins, hissing at you through its fangs. One hand finds a ridge to grip, the other your curse breaker, and you swing wildly at the creature’s back. The silver blade hacks at the thick chitin, then catches briefly on the red sigil before cutting through.

The spider shrieks and bucks, throwing you clear. Moments later all eight of its spindly black legs are pounding toward you, only to suddenly go limp. It collapses forward with a sword lodged in its back. You look up to find one of the Delvers grinning at you.

“You’re a crazy one, Cursebreaker.” He walks forward and helps you up. “Anders. I thought everyone knew not to break the magic on a branded monster.”

“I...yeah.”

“Drives them right crazy! Thanks for the help.” The swordsman claps you on the back heavily, nearly knocking you back down, then walks over toward his brother shouting. You take a moment to catch your breath and steady your shaking arms. Dead spiders fill the room in various states of broken and dismembered. You briefly catch Katrina’s eyes who simply nods. You take a moment to feel for any other magical traps that might be lurking in the dungeon, find none and rejoin the group.

Michael is grousing. “Had to be spiders.” He counts out five coins and hands them over to Katrina who pockets them. “Can’t eat them, chitin isn’t any good, damn things don’t even spin webs yet.”

The group starts moving back down the tunnel as you try to get your pounding heart under control. Katrina shrugs. “Didn’t see any insects around the dungeon, figured it had to be spiders. Goblins attract flies, and slimes make me sneeze.”

“You’re allergic to slimes?” Anders asked.

The torch shrugs. “Something about the way they smell sets me off.” She pauses for a moment. “Look sharp, I can feel the dungeon’s heart just up ahead.”

The group falls silent and continues advancing. You glance down at the cursebreaker in your hand, a smear of black fluid staining its silver sheen and take a deep breath. Almost done. Almost done.

The group finally exits the long tunnel out into a large open room whose ceiling vanishes into darkness above...far beyond should fit in the hillside. You fan out into the open room. Michael scowls and looks around, ax in hand.
“Where the fuck is it?”

You look around and glance at Katrina. “What?”

The torch tightens her grip on her mace. “Core guard. Probably big and nasty, should be...” The color drains from her face. “Behind!”

You spin and your eyes lock onto a truly monstrous spider, the size of a horse, clinging to the wall behind you. Your stomach twists in fear, then the thing leaps, a long hairy leg slamming into you. The breath is ripped from your body and you crash into a wall as battlecries are called. You struggle up as Katrina moves in, glowing shield blocking a charge from the spider. On the flank Michael darts in and hacks at a leg like a tree, filthy black black spraying with each swing. Next to him is Anders trying to dart in and stab at the body of the beast.

The cursebreaker is in your trembling hand as you stare at the monstrosity. It roars and thrashes at Katrina who rebuffs the blows with a grunt. Michael lets out a whoop as a chunk of leg goes flying. What should you even be doing?

> Just stay out of the way
> Get out your silver monocle, maybe there’s some line of magic you can cut?
> Flank and stab! It’s focused on Katrina anyway!
> Write in

>>5679109
> Get out your silver monocle, maybe there’s some line of magic you can cut?

>>5679109
>Flank and stab! It’s focused on Katrina anyway!

>>5679109
> Get out your silver monocle, maybe there’s some line of magic you can cut?

>>5679109
>Just stay out of the way

Writing...

You fumble for your monocle as the battle rages, maybe there’s a magical connection from the spider to...You stare through the monocle as a thick red artery becomes visible, running from the spider and back through the tunnel, thin spider web like tendrils running off of it to the surrounding walls. Had they been walking right through it the entire time? How hadn’t you felt it this entire time?

No, it doesn’t matter, you shuffle around the edge of the room, keeping away from the shouting and roaring melee and close distance with the pulsing red artery connecting the spider to the rest of the dungeon. You dart in and take a wide slash at it. The blade connects, bites in just a hair, then the blade and your arm both are hurled backwards with enough force that your shoulder aches. Red motes spray out of the wound for just a moment before it reseals and you hear a screech.

The spider staggers and actually cowers for a moment, then Katrina’s mace crashes down onto, then into, its eyes. Michael is hacking madly at the legs and Anders slides under the creature and stabs upward, once, twice, then a final arcing slash that earns him a face full of viscera. The beast screams, a guttural strange noise no insect should be able to make and staggers away from its attacks. It’s dying. The monster staggers on its remaining legs, bleeding from a dozen deep wounds. You watch, gasping for air, becoming conscious of how sweaty you are. It’s over, you can go home and never think about dungeons and monsters again.

Then the beast staggers toward you and lunges.

“Idrid!” Katrina shouts.

The bulk of the beast, hot, coarse hair, rancid smell, crashed into your body, slams you back against the wall, then your chest blossoms into agony, blood pouring from your body, fire replacing it as your veins empty out. Katrina’s mace, wreathed in white flame, slams into the corpse and hurls it aside. The mace clunks to the floor as the torch kneels and examines you.

A six inch fang is buried in your heart.

Your body is jerking involuntarily in time with your mangled heart, still trying to pump blood even as it spills out of your body. It’s getting cold, incredibly cold even as the fire spreads through your empty veins, the spider’s poison the only thing lingering. This...this is it. The world starts to fade, the color draining first, then the light. The last thing you see before the dark is Katrina with a handful of red (why does it still have color?) shards in one hand, and the fang in the other.

It hurts so much.

You’re falling toward a vast red plain, or is it an eye? Your vision swims from one to the other. Something is pulling on you, away from the eye, and something else is pulling you toward the eye. Or the eye toward you? Everything is confusing, is this death? Is this the hells pulling you down? The heavens pulling you up? The eye is getting close, the pulling stronger from both ends, everything is rushing together.

Is the afterlife supposed to hurt this much?

Your eyes jerk open and you scream. Gods below it hurts! You stare at your chest and poke it gingerly. Sore, but...not ripped open. You’re alive. You look up as the laughter starts.

“First time dying?” Anders grins and helps you off your back and onto unsteady feet. “It’s a rush isn’t it?”

You stagger as the world spins and just groan in response. Katrina gets an arm under you and steadies you. “Eat well for the next few days, as much meat as you can. Healing magic robs your tomorrow to keep you alive today.”

You nod weakly along, barely noticing as Michael hands a few thin red shards to Katrina.

“All that’s left.” He glances at you and sighs. “Ah, I guess it was worth it, didn’t know you could do it quite like that.”

Your world keeps spinning, blurring in and out of focus. What are they talking about? Are you moving? Is that sunlight?

Katrina answers with a hollow laugh. “Neither did I. Normally you need to purify the shards before you can use them for magic, but there wasn’t enough time...she’s nearly out isn’t she?”

Everything is getting far away again.

“Always forget how fragile they are. Was a pretty nasty hit though.”

“Tore her heart right in half, then flooded her with poison too.”

“Fuck. You know your shit.”

“A torch protects.”

---

The red eye is there again, watching you, and you watching it. There’s a bizarre double vision where you see what the eye sees, and the eye sees what you see. The first time it was a vast thing but now it seems so small. You reach out and touch it, feel your own finger on the eye and retract it. A strange thing, but you feel calm. At the same time you know it’s time to appoint something to watch over you, a protector.

> An ambush oriented spider
> An illusionist pixie
> A militant skeleton
> Write in
> A quirky cactus?

>>5679639
>An illusionist pixie
So we were resurrected with non purified shards of the dungeon heart

>>5679639
>A militant skeleton
Calcium is my greatest ally

>>5679639
> A quirky cactus, one that came from a nice orange core dungeon

Let's start connecting the storyline of the last quest with this one :)

>>5679639
>>An illusionist pixie
illusions seem like the most convineant

>>5679639
>>5679738
Lost Garden? I've yet to catch up. Might as well, then. I just don't want the literal dungeon fairy to win. So either that or the skelly man. Spider would be nice and be great at being around to protect us because stealth, but the MC probably would have problems with it after being killed by one.

>>5679639
>A militant skeleton
Scariest beings in the world... Be careful, a skeletal may be very close to you right now...

>>5679639
>>5679738
+1

>>5679639
>A militant skeleton
There could be one inside of us right now and we wouldn't know it...

Calling it for skeleton

Every part of you hurts. Your chest especially throbs and burns. You groan and open your eyes begrudgingly, finding yourself in a soft bed in a pleasant well furnished room. A bowl of still warm soup sits on a table next to the bed. It takes a moment for you to place your location, the nicest room at the inn. A moment later you shiver and frantically pull up your shirt and stare down at your chest.

There’s an ugly scar across your left breast, still red and angry, but you were alive, when you certainly were supposed to be dead. The hunger hits a moment later and you devour the soup, then find the letter underneath. Couldn’t wait around, got you a room to make sure someone would take care of you. Nice work Idrid. -K

You stare at the letter. You are alive, the dungeon is gone. The village is safe. You have twenty five gold pieces waiting with the preacher, several year’s wages. There was...well there was nothing to worry about. You fall back into the extremely soft bed, maybe you should buy one, and let the tension drain out of your body.

Then you see the skeleton standing at attention on the other side of the room. You stare at it, then slowly its head turns to stare at you. Your back is against the wall instantly, heart...not pounding frantically? Something is definitely wrong with your chest. There is a skeleton in your room, a rusty sword in its hand, empty sockets watching you. Someone knocks on the door.

"Coming in dear."

> Scream for help
> Smash the skeleton with a chair
> Jump out the window
> Check your pulse
> Write in

>>5680153
>Jump out the window
For every possible action, there is an equal an opposite overreaction. Sun Tzu said that.

>>5680153
> Check your pulse
Also plan on buying a cactaron protector from The Lost Garden some time in the future. It recently started selling protectors to people that it trusts. Cactarons are one of the most expensive protectors available.

>>5680153
> Scream for help

>>5680153
>Tell the skeleton to hide under the bed (Write in)
I know it sounds crazy, but I think it's our best move. The thing doesn't seem hostile and if we hide it, there's no cause for panic

>>5680153
>> Scream for help

You scream. "Help! Monster!"

The door slams open, catches the skeleton in the face as it swivels towards it, and sends the thing into the wall. A young woman, Mary the apprentice healer of the village, bursts into the room and looks around frantically.

"Where!?"

"Behind the door!" You shout and point from the bed.

Mary turns, then flinches back as two inches of sword blade erupts from the door. She shrieks, then kicks the door repeatedly, slamming the skeleton into the wall over and over.

"Quickly! Get out of bed and run!"

You lurch into motion, legs unsteady as you stumble onto the floor then dash out of the room followed by Mary who nearly pushes you down the stairs. You both stumble into the common area as the innkeeper, an old bear of a man stares at you.

"Monster! In the room!" You gasp between breaths.

The seven random folk in the room stiffen and turn toward the stairs. There's a long pause, long enough for one of the men to start to chuckle then abruptly stop as the clicking of bones starts. The skeleton descends the stairs at a limp, one leg quite shattered. Low curses sweep across the room at the sight, and a few of the less brave start slowly slipping toward the door.

A heavy kitchen cleaver whips across the room and lodges into the monster's head. It staggers, remembering the rules of flesh, then collapses down the stairs in pieces. Framed by the kitchen door the innkeeper's bear of a wife hefts another cleaver and scowls to the appreciative smile of her husband. The room erupts in shouting.

You and Marry both drop to chairs and you stare at the bones that have clattered to the floor. There’s an odd feeling in your gut, words on your lips unspoken before Mary speaks.

"Well, I should be able to find your pulse now. I can certainly feel mine going right through my chest."

You slowly raise a hand and set it on your chest, waiting and feeling for something that does not seem to be there.

"I'm not so sure about that."

Mary has moved you, without even waiting for you to change out of your nightgown, to the clinic. She fusses over you, pacing, checking books, checking your pulse on your wrist, chest, neck and forehead, then checking herself.

"Ok. Ok. Are you sure you aren't a demon?"

"Pretty...sure?"

Mary stares at you, mouth in a grimace, eyes wide. "Demons have heart beats. Undead are cold. Golems are cold, I think. Unless they're made of special materials and... and we played together as a child. You aren't any of these things."

You nod along, absently holding two fingers to your neck. Why don’t you have a heartbeat?

“It has to be something the dungeon did, right? A curse it laid on me?” Your mind jumps back to that first trap, that line of death magic. “It had a curse line I cut, death magic. That could do it, right? Or maybe the torch? Maybe she did something wrong when she healed me.”

Mary shrugged. “Maybe?” She darts over to a shelf of books, finger trailing along them. She pulls one out and flips through the pages. “Ah, this one looks right, vital signs begin to vanish, undead are attracted to your location, long term prognosis is enthrallment as an undead slave. Oh. Not good.”

“What’s it called?”

“Chains of the Grave. It’s...well it’s a spell dungeon’s are known to use.”

Your stomach lurches a bit. “Can I break it?”

Mary grimaces. “Not without disemboweling yourself. The curse lodges deep in your organs. You’d need to have someone else do the work, a surgeon and a cursebreaker both.”

You groan and hang your head. “I’m the only cursebreaker of the village. Gods, how long would I have?”

Mary looks back at the book and flips between a few pages. “A couple weeks before it gets really bad...but maybe it’s something else. You mentioned the torch right? She had to heal you?”

“Yeah, I got...well stabbed in the heart I think, and she put me back together, somehow.”

Mary stares at her book for a second, eyes distant. “Divine magic isn’t well understood, the Torches keep their secrets close, even if they do a lot of good. She left town toward the north, headed up to Blue Ridge. But if you want a good curse breaker you’ll want to head to the capital, to the west.”

“Crownholde.” You groan and cup your face in your hands. “Fuck. It was too good to be true.”

> Hunt down Katrina the Torch, she must have done something wrong when she healed you, maybe she’ll know how to fix it
> Head to Crownholde, the capital of Karhost. There’s nowhere better (within a few weeks travel) for magical and physical aid
> Fuck it, the dungeon is dead, who is this curse going to enslave you too? Buy that nice bed and don’t worry about having a pulse. Or the undead.
> Ask more questions, you need more details
> Write in

>>5681200
If Lost Garden is closer than Blue Ridge,
> Ask more questions, you need more details
"Can an orange core dungeon remove the curse?"
If Blue Ridge is closer than Lost Garden,
> Hunt down Katrina the Torch, she must have done something wrong when she healed you, maybe she’ll know how to fix it

>>5681200
>Hunt down Katrina the Torch, she must have done something wrong when she healed you, maybe she’ll know how to fix it
Fucking cultists better have a way to fix us up proper or so help me any of the various dieties that exist here there will be retribution.

>>5681200
>Ask more questions, you need more details

>>5681200
>> Hunt down Katrina the Torch, she must have done something wrong when she healed you, maybe she’ll know how to fix it

>>5681200
>> Fuck it, the dungeon is dead, who is this curse going to enslave you too? Buy that nice bed and don’t worry about having a pulse. Or the undead.
>> Ask more questions, you need more details

>>5681200
> Hunt down Katrina the Torch, she must have done something wrong when she healed you, maybe she’ll know how to fix it

>>5681200
>> Hunt down Katrina the Torch, she must have done something wrong when she healed you, maybe she’ll know how to fix it
everyone else might just kill you to be sure

>>5681898
Lost Garden wouldn't kill us, and it's core might be able to remove the curse.

>>5681200
>Fuck it, the dungeon is dead, who is this curse going to enslave you too? Buy that nice bed and don’t worry about having a pulse. Or the undead.

“If a dungeon did this, could a dungeon undo it?”

Mary considered for a moment before answering. “It’s not impossible, but it’s been hundreds of years since a friendly dungeon appeared on the continent. I don’t suppose you know where your grandmother’s dungeon is?”

You shake your head. “All I ever got were stories from my mom, the gods rest her soul. I’ve never met anyone who had heard of it either. The normal dungeons around here...”

Mary grimaced. “You’d be hard pressed. To be intelligent enough it would have to be old and powerful. The Torches put them down as fast as they can, so the only one that you could reliably go to is the Mournlands, far to the north, and...well I've got a bottle of nightshade here that could save you the trip. And there's no telling what they'd ask of you, probably a life of slavery."

"Yeah, probably not a good idea. I think I'm going to chase after the healer, I'm not even sure I'd find someone who could help in the capital."

---

More to come but dead inside at the moment.

>>5682202
Welp, Lost Garden might not even still be alive. Hopefully it didn't go bad. :(

>>5682211
Maybe she went to sleep.

"How will I know I'm running out of time?"

"You'll become progressively more death like over time, and attract more undead. Body temperature will drop, skin will pale...eyes may begin to glow. Have you decided?"

"Yeah, I'm going after Katrina, the healer."

"Good luck I guess. And dress warm for the mountains." Mary moved across the room and gave you a sudden tight hug. "Come back alive ok? I don't want to lose a patient."

---

You have a number of decisions to make for your trip. It's already afternoon, and you have four or five days of hard travel ahead of you. On the plus side you have plenty of money to work with.

Your first decision is when to leave, or where to sleep if you wait until tomorrow.

> Set out immediately after gathering supplies
> Spend the night at the inn, around other people
> Spend one last night in your own bed
> Write in

Next is the matter of travel gear and supplies.

> Travel light and fast
> Gather what you own and can get at reasonable prices
> Burn a gold coin on a thorough kit of supplies along with an old mule to carry it

And lastly your money. A gold coin is valued at a hundred silver, and a silver coin is an acceptable payment for a cheap room and meals for a day. Your yearly wages as the village cursebreaker are five gold coins, one of which is paid to the capital as taxes on your modest home.

Below a silver a coin is sometimes clipped into 'bits' of various sizes.

> Leave most of it with the priest for safekeeping, but take fifty silver with you
> Bring five gold with you, with some of it broken into silver, and leave the rest with the priest
> Bring it all

>>5682597
>Write in
We grew up here, right? Spend the last night with our family, in case we don't come back.
(This might be covered under 'spend the night in your bed', but I wasn't certain so I made it a write in.)
>Gather what you own and can get at reasonable prices
A warm coat and pants, sturdy boots and a leather pack if we don't already own any. Buy a healthy amount of jerky and salted meat so we don't need to stop and forage for food that often, and two or three pouches to hold water.
>Take two Gold and 75 silver with you, for any unforseen expenses. Leave the rest with your family.

>>5682597
> Spend one last night in your own bed
> Gather what you own and can get at reasonable prices
> Bring it all

>>5682618
Supporting

>>5682597
>Spend one last night in your own bed
> Gather what you own and can get at reasonable prices
> Bring five gold with you, with some of it broken into silver, and leave the rest with the priest

>>5682597
> Spend the night at the inn, around other people
> Burn a gold coin on a thorough kit of supplies along with an old mule to carry it
>Take two Gold and 75 silver with you, for any unforseen expenses. Leave the rest with your family.

>>5682597
> Spend last night with family
> Burn a gold coin on a thorough kit of supplies along with an old mule to carry it
> Bring it all

>>5682597
> Spend the night at the inn, around other people
> Burn a gold coin on a thorough kit of supplies along with an old mule to carry it
> Leave most of it with the priest for safekeeping, but take fifty silver with you

Calling it for:

> Sleep at home
> Reasonable supplies
> Bring 2.75 Gold with you

Probably won't get anything written tonight, but should be good to go for tomorrow. Pardon the delays.

The remainder of the day is spent on practical concerns. The mayor has to be informed so he can send for a new cursebreaker while you're gone. Your money is left in care of the preacher, whom most of the town consider more reliable and convenient than the nearest proper town with an actual bank. Mister Greenhigs, the general store owner, manages to restrain his desire to bleed you of coins long enough for you to cover any holes in your personal travel gear. You certainly won't be traveling in comfort, but it's enough to get you to Blue Ridge and it barely dents your funds.

As evening falls you make a detour out to the graveyard, it might be a while before you can visit next, and you've been meaning to visit for a while anyway. The graves of your parents are simple affairs, but most are in this little village.

"Hey..." You stare at the graves and fumble for words. For all they'd been there for years of your life you never really felt like you understood them all that well. They had both traveled vast distances only to settle down in this little village and you’d never really understood why. “So I’m leaving the village soon. I’m hoping to be back within a few weeks but it’s possible I won’t make it back at all so...goodbye I guess.”

The graves stood there, still and silent. Your parents never were very talkative people, even in life. Even as they lay dying from the fever plague that swept the village three years back they had just held hands and smiled at you. You give a feeble wave and retreat back to your home, pack your bag, and collapse into bed. What a long day.

---

The red orb is back, although either you’ve grown or it has gotten smaller. It regards you, spinning to watch as you float around it in the vast void you find yourself in. Dimly, part of you acknowledges that perhaps this isn’t normal, that you must be dreaming, but it doesn’t seem a concern at the moment. There is a malice in the orb, toward you, toward everything really, and an expectation. Oh, you realize, it wants you to choose something.

> DOMINATION - Lay claim, it all belongs to you!
> DEATH - Sow the seeds of death, and reap their harvest!
> WAR - Command your soldiers, and destroy your enemies!

>>5684414
>WAR - Command your soldiers, and destroy your enemies!
Skeletal Phalanxes as far as the eye can see!

>>5684414
>DOMINATION - Lay claim, it all belongs to you!

>>5684414
KNOWLEDGE - The arcane needs to be mastered for your sake and the sake of your own.
bordering the "domination" to have people that are "your own"

>>5684414
>> DOMINATION - Lay claim, it all belongs to you!

>>5684414
> WAR - Command your soldiers, and destroy your enemies!
Create lots of cactarons, find Lost Garden. :)

>>5684414
>> WAR - Command your soldiers, and destroy your enemies!

>>5684414
>DOMINATION - Lay claim, it all belongs to you!

>>5684414
>WAR - Command your soldiers, and destroy your enemies!

Calling it for

> WAR

>>5684414
> DOMINATION - Lay claim, it all belongs to you!

You wake up and open your eyes. Two skeletons, more or less identical to the first, are standing at attention at the foot of your bed. You stare at the skeletons. The skeletons stare back, motionless. Thankfully no one knocks on your bedroom door at least. You take a moment to consider your options, none of which are good, then sit up in your bed with a scowl. You can't deal with this the entire way to Blue Ridge. Frustration surges up in you.

"Why!?"

The two skeletons shift... uncomfortably?

"Yeah, I don't like this either! I don't want you here! Go away!"

The two skeletons shudder and twitch, then collapse into heaps of bone. You stare, then swing out of bed and hurry over to the bone heaps. You reach out a trembling finger and poke the bones, then yelp and fall on your rear as it collapses into a fine white dust. There's an odd feeling of loss, of defeat, accompanied by a surge of outrage at no one but yourself.

You shake your head, forcing the anger, the completely irrational anger away. Part of the curse? You can yell away the undead...but it makes you angry? None of it made sense. You stand and turn to grab your things, then see your blanket.

Overnight, somehow, the blanket has been embroidered in red thread, with the pattern of your spell breaker blade. The curse decorates. You throw up your hands and grab your bag, the sooner you get moving the better.

The road toward Blue Ridge is rocky and poorly maintained, cutting through ancient pine forests and along rocky hillsides, always climbing upward. As long as you maintain a good pace you should reach Blue Ridge in three days. Katrina has a few days head start unfortunately, but hopefully whatever her business is in the old mining town will hold her there long enough for you to catch up. You feel your not-pulse and pick up the pace. If you have to chase the healer to a second town, or god forbid she rides a carriage or horse, catching up will get much harder.

The first day and night both are uneventful, you travel hard, sleep just off the road, refill your water skins from a nearby stream and keep moving, chewing on travel rations as you go. The second day makes you nervous. The road to Blue Ridge is joined by another, one that leads toward the west and more populated areas of the country. You start seeing signs of activity along the road, a gouged section of a tree, trampled undergrowth, a few shattered arrows in a ditch. A column of smoke in the distance all but confirms your concerns, highwaymen have set up along this stretch of road, or possibly worse.

With almost distressing predictability you hear the scream of a woman from around the next bend of the road.

> Run for it
> See if you can help, somehow
> Hide off the side of the road and wait
> Write in

>>5685823
>Run for it
Likely we're next if we try to help. We better get out of here while we can.

>>5685823
>See if you can help, somehow

>>5685823
>See if you can help, somehow
Let's test out our new war skill/ability.

>>5685823
> See if you can help, somehow

>>5685823
>See if you can help, somehow

>>5685823
>Hide off the side of the road and wait

Your feet are moving before your mind can catch up. Back home a scream meant trouble, and trouble for one person was trouble for everyone. A wild animal, a roaming fey curse, a fire. Your life has always been marked by moving toward the problem, knowing it was coming for you next.

When you turn the corner you find two rough men and a grinning woman.

"See? I told you this would work. Everyone wants to play hero."

Your feet skid to a halt, curse breaker clutched in your hand. A trick you stumbled right into. You edge slowly backward.

"No, no lady, you keep that up and my friend up in the trees is going to give you a second asshole." One of the men shook a finger at her. "Don't you worry, you're too pretty to kill."

"She'd make a good whore for someone. And no one would get too worked up over a missing peasant."

You take a deep breath, feeling something hot rising up inside. Your heart actually thumps, just once, and you stagger at the feeling, vision going dark around the edges. Something like wrath or bile rises up in your throat. They dare!?

> No! Shove it down! Dive away through the trees and run for it!
> Fuck them! Knife to hand and let loose the spirit of WAR!
> Swallow your pride and surrender. You'll find a way out of this, somehow.
> Write in

>>5686523
>Swallow your pride and surrender. You'll find a way out of this, somehow.

>>5686523
> Fuck them! Knife to hand and let loose the spirit of WAR!

If possible, we will also let loose the fighting spirit of a cactaron, and the fighting spirit of Lost Garden.

>>5686523
>Fuck them! Knife to hand and let loose the spirit of WAR!

>>5686523
>"And just how hurt are you willing to get without damaging the merchandise?"
> Fuck them! Knife to hand and let loose the spirit of WAR!

>>5686523
>No! Shove it down! Dive away through the trees and run for it!

>>5686523
> Fuck them! Knife to hand and let loose the spirit of WAR!
Gotta let it out

>>5686523
>> Swallow your pride and surrender. You'll find a way out of this, somehow.

>>5686523
>Fuck them! Knife to hand and let loose the spirit of WAR!
Cry 'havoc', let slip the dogs of WAR!

You charge, knife in hand, pack dropping to the dirt behind you, feet pounding across the dirt. The brigands flinch back and all but one scatters away from you. You slash wildly, grinning without knowing why and the bandit parries with a short sword and staggers back, blocking and parrying frantically with wide eyes.

"Fucking necromancers!" The woman shouts. You spare a glance and find your skeletons have appeared again, charging alongside you. The air fills with the ring of metal on metal as you keep swinging, no grace, no skill, just adrenaline and fury. The bandit stumbles to the side of the road, his foot hitting a branch, and down he falls. You dive after him, taking his blade to your side, but the pain feels good for some reason and your heart actually flares to life and starts pounding.

You stab your silver knife deep into the man’s throat, then jerk it out with a messy spray of blood, some distant part of you screaming and pleading with you. You push it down and stand, blood running out of your side, and look back on the battlefield. Your skeletons have fallen, though not before killing one of the bandits. Only the woman remains, pointing a blade at you.

“Stand down necromancer.” The woman wipes a trail of blood from her face. “You don’t have to die here.” You start walking toward her. You’ve never felt so good, so in control of life. Unstoppable, that’s what you are. Something makes a sharp sound, like metal on stone, like an arrowhead against your heart. The world goes black.

“Get up. Get up!” Someone slaps your face, hard, and you groan. You hurt all over, your side, your chest, especially your head. “I said get up! We don’t have long!” Someone kicks you in the side and you curl away with a whimper. You look up.

Someone with your face looks down and scowls. “You have my face.”

“We have our face.” The other you corrects and drags you to your unsteady feet. You stare at her. Your face, but heavily scarred, one eye cloudy, a tooth missing from her half grinning, half scowling face. Mismatched and battered armor covers her body. The two of you stand on an empty battlefield, or rather a circle ten strides across floating in gray cloudy void.

"Stop gawping, we need to decide what to do with the prisoners."

"What the fuck is going on?" You ask. The other you ignores you and gestures with her hand, the ground splits and a pair of iron spikes lift up out of the ground. Lashed to each one is a bloodied man. You stare, mouth open at the two brigands. "Gods...I killed him."

"Both of them actually. Soldiers did the dirty work on the other, but it still counts." Your armored facsimile picks at her teeth for a moment. "Well? What are we doing with them?"

"What?"

"Personally I think we forge more soldiers out of them. I can make a couple more skeletons out of each."

"Dear War, clearly we expand our territory with them." You turn and find another doppelganger, in long silk robes, all beauty and grace. This little... patch is too small for us. And frankly you have a bit of an aroma, I could use the space."

"Oh fuck off Dominion." The warrior spits back.

Someone gently tugs on your back and you turn to find a child version of yourself looking up at you with big eyes. "I could do a couple traps if it would help..."

War grumbles and shrugs. "Death is a better choice than the whore over there."

All three look at you expectantly.

> Soldiers
> Territory
> Traps

You make a choice then grapple for words, suddenly aware that this place is fading, you've got time for one question...

> Write in

>>5687068
> Traps
Where are our horses?

>>5687068
>Territory

>>5687068
>Traps

>>5687068
>> Territory

>>5687068
>Territory
What are you?

>>5687068
> Territory

>>5687068
> Territory
"Do you know where my grandmother's dungeon is located?"

>>5687068
> Territory
> Am I turning into a dungeon core or something?

Calling it for Territory.

File: Jeremy_long_legs.jpg (4.23 MB, 2860x10000)

4.23 MB JPG

>>5687068
So ...
WAR self is a gritty warrior
DOMINION self is a beauty, and
DEATH self is a child?

You look between the three of them and realize what you really want right now is some space. Dominion, you in silk with every imperfection smoothed away, smiles broadly.

"I knew you'd see it my way, everyone does eventually." Dominion snaps a pair of painted nails and the two bloody corpses shred messily. Fragments whirl through the air then sink into the edges of the little island in the void. Blood, bone and flesh becomes rocky dirt and the island expands outward, nearly doubling in size.

"What are you three?"

War lifts an annoyed eyebrow. "I thought we went over this. We're you.

Dominion sidles up to your side, her face touching yours, eyes staring into you. "The parts that you don't want to admit exist. That wants control."

"That wants to fight." War growled.

"I'm just scared." The child you whimpers.

Everything is getting darker, you're being pulled away, but you cling desperately even as feeling, real waking feeling seeps in.

"Why are you here though!? Was it the dungeon?" Your hands slide on dirt, grasping to hold on.

War sweeps across the distance and seizes you by your shirt, scowling face inches from yours. "We've always been here. But that dungeon in your chest, that's why we finally have a voice."

War kicks you away before you can sputter a reply. The world, the real world, comes crashing in. Coarse ropes digging into your hands, ankles and midriff. A rag sour with sweat jammed into your mouth, another bound around your eyes. A boot digging into your side.

"Rise and shine necromancer, I think it's time for you and I to have a talk."

You groan as the pain asserts itself again. Ice pours into your stomach, you killed someone. Killed someone with a grin on your face, and it felt good, felt right, their blood on your skin, and gods your skin crawls and stomach turns at the thought and what the in the pit was that with three people on that island-

"You see necromancer, I'm at a bit of an impasse. Manpower is hard to come by in my business, and you've killed two of my loyal workers."

You twist in your bindings and sway. Are you hanging in the air? The speaker sounded odd, far too refined for a bandit leader. The room started to come into focus in a growing circle of awareness around your suspended and gagged body, a tall and well groomed man standing next to you.

You flinch and jerk violently. How are you seeing yourself!? Your vision swims and stomach churns as you realize you're seeing yourself from every side at once, in a slowly growing sphere around yourself.

"Oh, I appreciate the panic, but I don't plan on killing you." The man sways for a moment as the field of your vision passed over him. He looks around the room sharply, then at you before shaking his head. An odd feeling settles over you of hostility and protectiveness...of an unwanted visitor in your home.

None of this made any sense. You needed time to think, time to figure this out. "Necromancers make for poor slaves, and worse whores." The man continues. "But I have a simple solution I think, a useful toy I picked up from a dungeon in Grabgol. Did you know they let their dungeons flourish there? Admittedly they do eat villages occasionally, but they produce lovely little toys like this sometimes."

Something cold clips around your neck, a smooth metal collar. "Lovely thing this choker. Disobey and it starts to constrict. Obey and it stays loose. You belong to me now, necromancer. I'm going to let you down, and you're going to do what I say." Your body tenses as the man produces a curved knife and cuts your legs free, each one thudding to the floor painfully, trembling as they take your weight. Your hands are freed next, though left bound. You stand upright tensing for the command.

"Alright, walk toward my voice. Or turn blue I suppose." The man gives a soft chuckle. You tense and hesitate. The collar remains inert. "Your spite is noted necromancer, but I would hurry up."

Is the collar broken?

> Play along
> Rush him
> Politely ask if it's on
> Write in

>>5688056
>Play along

>>5688056
> Play along
> stab him in the back as soon as you can

>>5688056
>Rush him

>>5688056
>> Rush him

>>5687859

Death is very scared of everything and just wants to keep you safe by killing everything at a safe distance, preferrably with an overwhelming number of traps.

I almost made death a disaffected goth teenager instead.

>>5688056
>Rush him

>>5688056
>Play along

>>5688056
We need to know how long we have before it starts acting
>wait until it constricts
if it takes too long, it probably doesn't work on us, but he shouldn't know that, so either way
>Play along

>>5688056
>Play along

>>5688091
This

Calling it for
> Play Along

You grimace and take a few stumbling steps, struggling with your odd external vision where you can see yourself.

"Good job little pet." The man steps forward and you flinch a little as his hands touch your neck briefly while removing the blindfold. You blink, even the dim light of the little cell stabbing at your eyes, barely noticing as the gag is finally removed from your mouth. You shiver and shake your head, trying to get your vision back to normal. "If you're a good pet I think you'll enjoy your service. Follow."

You stumble along after the man, eyes looking around. The walls are rough stone, an old mine? The two of you move into a large open cavern, lit by a crackling fire in the center. A handful of rough men and one woman watch you warily. Several other tunnels branch off the central cavern and you quickly follow your captor down one of them. The path splits, then terminates in a dingy curtain.

"This one is yours. Wait inside, don't do anything to help you escape or do harm to the people in the fortress."

You look over at the man, getting a first good look at him. The clothing was fine, if all in black, with a strip of silk across his mouth. Plain brown eyes. "My things." You croak out, dry throat protesting.

"Maybe if you're a good pet." The man smiles. "You won't need the money for a long long time anyway." You sigh and pass through the curtain, hearing the man's retreating steps. Your room has clearly been used before, if the lingering smell from the chamberpot and sweat stained cot are any indication. A small chest, its lock broken and insides bare sits under the cot. A fragment of wooden, maybe the top of an old barrel, sits against the wall. A small cup of water and hunk of stale bread sits on it.

You finally sit down on the cot and let the tears start running down your face, still holding back the sob you want to let out. You check your side, finding it red but whole. How? You should have bled out back there? Gods you killed someone! You curl into a ball, shaking, weeping, the entire confusing mess rolling through your mind. The indignation that swelled up in you, the mad strength, the skeletons, the three other-yous inside, seeing from outside your body...

We've always been here. But that dungeon in your chest, that's why we finally have a voice.

It all came back to the dungeon. Something got in you, nested where your heart used to be, like a burrowing insect laying eggs in a corpse. Your fists clench and you slowly unfold, wiping your face dry. You dip the bread in the water and eat it, then drink the rest. The chamber pot is used with many a grimace. You take a few deep controlled breaths.

Now what? You have a slave collar that doesn't work, for some reason, probably related to all of the weirdness in your life. You can recover from serious wounds quickly. You can see in all directions, from all perspectives, in a growing area around you. You focus on it and find that it seems to have filled your 'room' and is pushing steadily down the hallway. Is this your 'territory', your dominion? What is it good for though? You have skeletons apparently, who will murder people for you. Can you just call them up? Every story you'd ever heard about necromancers involved circles of blood and corpses, not just...running at someone with a knife. Or taking a nap. Are the skeletons going to pop up when you fall asleep?

Gods, you need a plan.

> Keep following orders from the bandits and get a better understanding of your situation
> Use Dominion to try and scout out the bandit lair more, venturing out of your room against orders
> Use Dominion to avoid people and flee the bandit lair, abandoning your possessions
> Try to get your skeletons back, then start assassinating bandits one by one, using Dominion to scout
> Write in

>>5688499
> Try to get your skeletons back, then start assassinating bandits one by one, using Dominion to scout

> Keep following orders from the bandits and get a better understanding of your situation
> Try to meditate or something, focus your thoughts within you to maybe converse with those versions of you again

We need to know what we can do and if our abilities only are for summoning undead for now or other things.
I think we should probably poison them all at once if possible

>>5688499
>> Keep following orders from the bandits and get a better understanding of your situation

>>5688499
>Try to get your skeletons back, then start assassinating bandits one by one, using Dominion to scout

>>5688499
> Try to get your skeletons back, then start assassinating bandits one by one, using Dominion to scout

>>5688499
>Use Dominion to try and scout out the bandit lair more, venturing out of your room against orders

>>5688499
>Use Dominion to try and scout out the bandit lair more, venturing out of your room against orders

>>5688499
>Try to get your skeletons back, then start assassinating bandits one by one, using Dominion to scout
We need to claim this cave as our own so we can makr a Dungeon out of it. The corpses of these bandits will serve well enough as materials, for now.

Calling it for skeleton murder

>>5689153
We also need to find out if it's possible for one dungeon to telepathically speak to another dungeon. If it is, we can try calling out to Lost Garden and find out where it's located.

>>5689260
No.

>>5688499
>Try to get your skeletons back, then start assassinating bandits one by one, using Dominion to scout

>>5689705
My bad, missed the calling post.

You take a deep breath and close your eyes, focusing on the vision granted by Dominion. You need more knowledge. It's managed to fill out the tunnel, then down the other branch where it has flowed into a room like your own. A bandit is sitting in it, alone, drinking himself into a stupor if the empty bottles are any indication.

Back on the far end of the tunnel Dominion has encountered the large central room and creeped out across half of it before stopping. A pair of rough bandits sit, talking to someone beyond the reach of Dominion. You can actually hear the two, but not the ones out of sight.

"Can't believe Silk wants to keep her." The voice is distant and has an odd echo to it, but the words are crisp and clear. "Crazy bitch gutted gutted Bert like a pig and I'm supposed to just let that go? We ought to pay her a visit and-"

His companion sitting next to him smacks him in the chest. "Shut up. You know how these gigs go. People die. Besides, Silk leaves in a few days, we'll break her in then."

They both turn toward someone out of Dominion, listening to words unheard. The first thug shrugs. "So what? She can't rot it off...right?"

Uneasy glances circle around.

"Yeah, might be safer with the slaves anyway."

Your mind pulls away from the conversation with a shudder. You need to get out of here, need to escape before someone gets brave enough to 'break' you. You need your money, your supplies, your gear. You need to kill them all to be safe. You flinch at the sudden thought, but there was no denying it. How far could you run? How far would they chase? How would you even find your things without setting off a fight? No, they had to die.

You take a deep breath. To kill you needed a weapon, and there was only one weapon at your disposal. "Hey...I really need you guys back." You whisper. Your chest grew a little warmer as something in your lifeless heart stirred. You reach out to the feeling, willing, begging, demanding.

A swirl of white mist spins into existence on the ground, then quickly rises, a familiar skeleton coalescing into existence. You try for a second skeleton, then a wave of exhaustion hits you. Maybe later? You look at your skeleton and wave at it timidly. "Uh...hi?"

The skeleton stares at you, as it always has, with blank sockets. You check Dominion and find the hallway deserted, then gesture to the skeleton to move to the door. It marches over, then halts and watches you again. You gesture it back, order it in circles, watching in macabre fascination as it follows the orders perfectly, matching your thoughts more than your movements. Your vision turns to the drunken bandit nearby, who has slumped into his cot, fast asleep.

You check Dominion again, then give the order, stomach twisting into a knot. Your skeletal soldier marches through the curtain, down the tunnel. They're bad people who mean you harm. This is the only way. You have to do this. You still shudder as the rusty blade is slammed into the neck of the sleeping man. He thrashes silently on the blade, like a dying fish, trying desperately to scream with a blade in his throat. You watch grimly through Dominion as life fades from his eyes, and at the same time you can feel something settling into you, more fuel for the three. You shiver a little, excitement, dread, you don’t know.

You feel it like muddy boots on freshly cleaned floors when a fresh face stumbles into your dominion and your attention jerks from the room to him. Another nameless thug, but clearly drunk and singing a low mournful song. He stumbles down your path then pauses for a moment at the fork before spitting in your direction. You snarl at the gesture, hands clawing at the cheap cot for a moment before shaking yourself out of it, these strange powers are definitely messing with your mind. The drunkard stumbles toward the other room, where your skeleton waits. You direct your minion around the small room, quickly searching for anything useful. An old knife, a tattered blanket, some stale rations and a few silver clippings. The room is much like your own, with a cheap cot, filthy chamber pot and a small battered box.

> Position your skeleton behind the curtain, then gut him through the sheet and hope he doesn’t scream too loudly.
> Wait for him to enter the room, then try to gut and strangle him to reduce the noise
> Hide the skeleton under the dead man’s cot, then dismiss it, waiting for a better opportunity
> Write in

>>5689836
> Wait for him to enter the room, then try to gut and strangle him to reduce the noise

>>5689836
> Wait for him to enter the room, then try to gut and strangle him to reduce the noise

>>5689836
>Order your skeleton to stay out of site of the door. Lay helpless on your cot. Order the skeleton to kill him when he comes and stands over you.

>>5689836
>Order your skeleton to stay out of site of the door. Lay helpless on your cot. Order the skeleton to kill him when he comes and stands over you.

>>5690195
>>5690032

Sorry, there seems to be some confusion here about the physical layout. There are two rooms, one of which contains you the other of which contains a new corpse and an animated skeleton under your control. The newest entrant in "Who wants to be gutted by a skeleton" is headed toward the room with the skeleton and the corpse, not the room with just you.

Apologies for the god damn confusing layout I've arbitrarily constructed on the fly.

>>5690220
No problem
>>5689836
> Wait for him to enter the room, then try to gut and strangle him to reduce the noise

>>5689836
>> Wait for him to enter the room, then try to gut and strangle him to reduce the noise

>>5689836
>Wait for him to enter the room, then try to gut and strangle him to reduce the noise

>>5690220
No problem.
>Lure in guard, order skeleton to ambush him.
Is my new vote.

Calling it for strangle.

Roll 1d100
DC: 20 (-Ambush, -Drunk, +Silent kill)

Rolled 78 (1d100)

>>5690406

Rolled 86 (1d100)

>>5690406

Rolled 82 (1d100)

>>5690406

File: SlaversCave-01.png (14 KB, 653x517)

14 KB PNG

You take a deep breath and try not to think about the sheer strangeness of directing a skeleton into an ambush position, lurking by the curtain that makes up the door to the room. You find yourself staring at the pooling blood on the floor, spreading outward, then under the curtain, if your second target looks down you might have a massive problem. Your luck holds though, the rogue swipes aside the curtain with a smile on his face and a wine bottle in his hand and actually steps into the blood before he stiffens and stares, wide eyed and slack jawed at the cooling body.

The skeleton strikes smoothly, one hand on the man’s throat, the other driving a rusty blade into his gut. The bandit is slammed against the wall, thrashing and flailing, wine bottle flailing against bone with hollow ‘tunk’ sounds. The movements grow steadily weaker as more blood pours from the man, grunts and muffled shouts reducing to wheezing and gasps. On and on he flails and twitches, eyes rolling, bottle dropped to the floor, hands feebly scratching at bone before finally at last he goes limp. The skeleton eviscerates him almost as an afterthought while you heave what little remains in your stomach into the chamberpot, feeling the room with sour stench.

Two down. Two down you remind yourself, two slavers and highwaymen, plus two more from before, and at least two to go, the woman and the leader. You stand up, push the gruesome execution from your mind, and fill yourself with the knowledge of Dominion. The common area, what you can see of it, has emptied, the fire within burning low now, although you realize that your vision through Dominion is unhindered by darkness. You leave your room slowly, pushing at Dominion, willing it, and thankfully it actually responds to you, flowing out of the two rooms you’ve cleared and into the common area, like vision made liquid.

Finding it empty you dare to push forward, calling your skeleton to your side, and circle the large common cavern, one hand trailing the wall the other gripping a rusty blade plundered from one of the bandits. You nervously watch the rest of the common area, wincing at each clack of bone on stone as you push Dominion down each tunnel as you pass them, heart in your throat the entire time. One little mistake...

You map out the area. An actual door blocks one tunnel, actually blocking Dominion outright, although you figured it was a fair guess that it belonged to the leader, flickers of candlelight shine beneath the door. A pair of empty rooms are also revealed, as well as another sleeping bandit, and you naturally rediscover the cell you woke up in not too terribly long ago. You find a tunnel that slopes upward for a time, your Dominion just barely reaches above ground, although you aren’t sure how you know it’s the surface.

The last room of note is the most heart wrenching, a half dozen women chained to a wall, dirty with eyes dead of hope. Stacked out of reach of them are crates, chests, and packs of trade goods, travel rations, a half empty crate of wine bottles, a few bags of cheap jewelry and silver clippings, and your own supplies and curse breaker gear heaped on the floor as well. A treasure room, filled with stolen plunder and broken lives.

What now?

> Kill the bandit in his sleep
> Spare him
> Write in

> Free the slaves
> Ignore the slaves
> Harvest the slaves
> Write in

> Go after the bandit leader
> Just escape this place
> Write in


> Anything else? (Write in)

>>5690574
>Harvest the bandit in his sleep
>Have the skeleton bring you a weapon too and double your potential attack power

>Ignore the slaves for now, later give them some funds and rations to get them back. Possibly delivered by skeleton so they don't know your involvement
>Lay in wait for the leader and the woman to come back

>>5690574
> Kill the bandit in his sleep
> Free the slaves
> Go after the bandit leader

>>5690574
> Kill the bandit in his sleep
> Free the slaves
> Go after the bandit leader

>take everything in the treasure room to the town preacher when we head back home from Blue Ridge

>>5690574
> Harvest the bandit in his sleep
> Harvest the slaves
> Go after the bandit leader

>>5690574
>Kill the bandit in his sleep
>Ignore the slaves for now
> Go after the bandit leader

>>5690574
>Kill the bandit in his sleep
None may survive, this is OUR lair now.
>Ignore the slaves
>Go after the bandit leader

Locking in:

> Kill the sleeping bandit
> Ignore the slaves
> Kill the leader

For killing the leader how do you want to prepare?

> No preparation, just knock and WAR
> Try to talk to War, Dominion, and Death again and seek their aid
> Arm the slaves with dead men's weapons and let them have their revenge
> Build a bonfire against his door and cook him alive
> Write in

>>5691178
As much as I like the idea of cooking the bossman alive, he surely would have a secret escape path in his own quarters.

>Try to talk to War, Dominion, and Death again and seek their aid
We have access to more corpses now, why not trade them in for more power before we go after the Boss. Might aswell, they'll be of more use that way.

>>5691182
Supporting

>>5691178
>> Build a bonfire against his door and cook him alive

>>5691178
>Try to talk to War, Dominion, and Death again and seek their aid

>>5691178
>Try to talk to War, Dominion, and Death again and seek their aid

>>5691178
>No preparation, just knock and WAR

The execution of the last sleeping bandit is a brief matter, you try not to dwell on it, pulling back on your dominion as the man chokes on his own blood. The slaves give you a longer pause, you want to rush in and save them, protect them, but not yet. The leader of this place, the orchestrator of this suffering, had to die first. There was no point in saving these people then leaving others to be captured afterwards.

The leader had to die. Warmth flows out from your heart and your grip tightens on the old knife. Visions dance in your mind, bursting down the door and cutting him down, filling the tunnel with flames, the monster begging for mercy as his blood laps at your feet-

You give a full body shake, tearing your mind free. He needed to die, to keep others safe, to keep yourself safe. You need to know you can kill him, no chances, no risks, absolute confidence. You need power, and you need to know how to use it. You need the three.

You let the corpses keep cooling and return to your cheap cot. You sit, steady your breathing, close your eyes, and try to remember what the place with the three was like. The silence of your still heart fills your mind. Slowly, like a night with too many drinks, something else forms out of the dark behind your eyes.

An island of rough stone bricks, scattered with broken weapons. Three people with your face. A child named Death. A beauty in a form fitting dress and knowing smirk named Dominion. An armored warrior, scarred and scowling named War. All three look at you expectantly.

"I need more power."

"Might-"
"Authority-"
"Out of the way harlot-"
"Jumped up crossdresser-"
"Leg spreading-"
"Sword fondler!"

You wince as the two descend into a bickering shouting match. Child Death slides up next to you.

"They're scary."

You kneel next to yourself. "Yeah...but I think I need them. And you. Why are you a child?"

"Scared all the time. We were always scared when you were this little. Dad was sick, monster under the bed, bees, strawberry jam-"

You nod and wince, the memory of your throat closing up coming to mind. "Yeah. It was a rough summer. So you're my fear?"

Little you nods. "I'm gonna keep us safe. Keep bad people away. The dungeon," She prods your chest. "lets me make traps to keep us safe. But I need power to do it. Power comes from people dying. So people need to die to keep us safe."

You shiver as the cold chill runs through you. "Ok. If you're fear..."

"I am the fight." War appeared next to you and Death.

"And that makes me the fu-" Dominion cackled as War glared. "Fine, fine, I'll accept empress, queen, or mistress behind silk curtains."

You point at each of your aspects in turn. "Traps, Skeletons, Vision?"

Dominion huffs, chest heaving in a way you’re fairly sure reality wouldn’t permit. “Vision? Is that all you think I’m good for, looking around corners like a scared mouse? I am authority manifest, your right to rule.”

You shrug. “But does it do anything?”

Dominion scowls. “It subverted the enchantment on that choker, you’re welcome by the way.” She sniffs as you absently touch the metal band that was supposed to control you. “Authority is a power all its own my dear me. It bends the mind of the weak, subverts magic, and opens doors.”

“Sure didn’t get past the only door we’ve seen.” War grumbles.

“Shush you. Only because our own domain isn’t yet strong enough. Soon I’ll reshape the world in our image.”

War bellows with laughter. “Don’t let her fool you with this nonsense. The most impressive thing she’s done is redecorated your sheets.”

“Oh? And your sad little soldiers who are lucky to defeat a starving bandit? Am I supposed to be impressed? As I recall, a tavern wench defeated your first one with a single strike.”

Death whimpers and tugs on your hand. “You should hand out the dead before they start shouting again.”

How do you assign your Death Stockpile of 3?

> War - Soldiers
> Dominion - Domain
> Death - Traps

>>5691809
>War - Soldiers

>>5691809
One to death and two to war

>>5691838
Unless we have to put it all on one, i which case
> War - Soldiers

>>5691840

You can spread it out. Would be awkward if you pulled a Lucas, murdered an entire village and had to spend it all in one place.

Technically you could also save the deaths, though there's no known reason too.

>>5691809
1 to death, 1 to dominion, 1 to war

>>5691838
>>5691809
+1, We use the extra Skeletons to make sure we outnumber him and force him into a trap we have laid.

>>5691838
Supporting.

>>5691809
1 death
1 dominion
1 war

Calling it for
> 2 War 1 Death

It only takes a thought to call up the three corpses lashes to three poles, then only one more thought to send them to their fate. You turn away with a grimace as bones rip free from flesh, two fresh new skeletons stepping free from the corpses. They give snappy salutes before vanishing back underground. The last corpse also separates bone from flesh, but instead of forming a skeleton the bones separate out in a wide circle, an invisible force carving them into pale spikes before driving them into the edges of your little island in the void.

Death looks at the ring of jagged bone spears with a smile, little hands twisting together.
“Thank you.”

War shoves Dominion aside, ignoring muttered curses and glares. “The leader of these cowards dies today then?”

You nod at yourself. “When can I count on all four skeletons?”

War flicks out the butt end of a spear toward you and prods you in the side. You wince, the area is still sore from where you took a blade. “Food and rest are what brings them back when they die in your service, or to prevent your death.” War pushes the spear a little harder with a glare. “Don’t be an idiot when you channel my power. You’ll need to make do with three until you rest properly.”

You swallow and nod. “Ok. Wish me luck.”

War snorts. “Make your own.”

You open your eyes, banishing the island of the three, returning to what was supposed to be your prison. You focus on your still heart, calling up the warmth, willing out loyal soldiers to your cause. A swirl of pale dust rises in the tiny room, and three skeletons snap to attention, blades at the ready. With Dominion leading the way the four of you march back to the common area.

The female bandit stands at the far end, staring, eyes wide, pupils twitching from skeleton to skeleton, mouth moving silently. The skeletons fan out, you can almost feel the fear rolling off the woman. A sword drops from her trembling hands, clattering to the floor, and she doesn't move to recover it.

> "Run."
> "Kneel."
> "Kill her."
> Write in

>>5692250
>"I heard your cry in distress and went to offer you a helping hand. And you made a fool of me."
>"The others I kill to survive, but you-!"
>Pause
>"Kneel"

>>5692250
>> "Kill her."

>>5692250
> "Kill her."

>>5692250
>"Kill her."

File: images (31).jpg (11 KB, 284x177)

11 KB JPG

>>5692250
> "Kill her."

How many? How fucking many people were lured in and sold like cattle by this monster? Six chained to the wall right now, but how many were sold off before this moment?

"Kill her."

The skeletons burst into motion. The woman wails and runs, the skeletons in hot pursuit. She takes a few seconds to reach the edge of your domain, but she's still close enough for you to hear the scream when your skeletons catch her.

"Well, you are an interesting one."

Oh shit.

> Roll 1d100 (DC 25/50/75)

Rolled 40 (1d100)

>>5692320

Rolled 70 (1d100)

>>5692320

You jerk away, more panic than instinct, and the blade gouges along, but not through your leg. You spin, gasping as your leg screams at you and raise your weapon. The bandit leader smirks from a safe distance.

"It's really just a fashion accessory to you, isn't it?" He paces slowly to one side as you call back the skeletons and frantically wonder about your trap ability. "After I leave you bleeding here I really must meet you again. You may call me Silk."

He lunges forward and you-

> Dodge! Dodge!
> Take the blade in the gut, and hold on like death, you don't have to play by normal rules
> Make a trap! Now's a good time right!?
> Write in

>>5692343
> Make a trap! Now's a good time right!?

>>5692343
>Make a trap! Now's a good time right!?
We have more tricks than just skeletons now.

>>5692343
>> Take the blade in the gut, and hold on like death, you don't have to play by normal rules

>>5692343
>Dodge! Dodge!

Locking trap

You need an edge. You need these traps you were promised. You focus on your heart and weave backwards from Silk's grinning face, then stumble back. Your arm flies up desperately as Silk lunges and swings, the bandit's blade slams down, ripping skin and flesh, then cracking bone.

You shudder and hiss as your arm throbs and pours blood, stomach lurching. Your skeletons are running up and the bandit turns toward them with a sigh. "Chaffe. Call them off and I'll let this go."

You slam a bloody hand on the ground, shaking from a combination of fear, anger, and pain. Your blood flows out, pooling on the floor as you pour out your will. "You can go." You shudder and cough as cold shock rips through you.

"Oh, permission granted?" The bandit sneers. "The life is bleeding out of you, and you want to give me permission to leave my own place of business?"

The stone under his feet cracks and collapses. You collapse at the edge of the pit in the pool of your own blood. Silk, would be bandit king, falls and for a moment your eyes meet before he crashes onto a bed of jagged bone spikes, impaling onto three of them.

You struggle up to your knees. One of your skeletons kneels next to you then disintegrates into powder. The pain in your arm hits a sudden crescendo along with your scream as bone and flesh roughly slam back together and knit tightly. Your vision dances between black and blurred, then the pain subsides from unbearable to merely horrific. You look down at the still alive Silk, who stares up, blood pooling in his mouth. His eyes, tearstained and broken eyes plead at you, though it just reminds you of the slaves still chained to the wall, still waiting.

"You can go to hell."

It's over, every last one of them is dead or dying, and now you need to decide what to do next.

Silk the Bandit
> Ignore him
> Finish him
> Write in

The Slaves
> Free them
> Guide them
> Write in

The Plunder
> Grab as much as you can carry
> Give it to the slaves
> Write in

>>5692438
>Finish him

>>5692445
>Finish them
>Grab as much as you can carry

>>5692438
>Finish him
And with the death of this 'would-be' bandit king, this hideout has become our domain.

>>5692445
The Slaves
>Write in: Harvest them
They will make for excellent material...
The Plunder
>Write in: Leave it where it is, this cave is yours now, including the loot

>>5692438
Silk the Bandit
> Finish him
>>5692445
The Slaves
Either
> Guide them
Or
> Free them
Or whatever option other anons vote for that is not killing them

> Grab as much as you can carry
>Let the slaves havethe rest

>>5692438
> Finish him
> Free them
> Leave the loot there for now, and come back with a cart on our way back to the village

>>5692438
> Finish him
The Slaves
> Free them


The Plunder
> Grab as much as you can carry
The slaves can have the rest

>>5692438
>Finish him
If left alive, he'll just cause problems later.
>>5692445
>Free them
>Split loot 50/50

Locking

> Finish off Silk
> Maximum Plunder
> Free the Slaves

You focus on the pit of spikes. The bone spears not currently occupied by an idiot with delusions of grandeur dissolve into powder. There's a whimper of what sounds like actual hope, and you don't bother to suppress the smile on your face as you gesture the skeleton down into the pit. The whimper rises to a wail as the sword is lifted into the air, then the bandit starts thrashing on the spikes, sliding deeper onto them. The sword comes down, his terrified face comes off, and the pit grows still.

You dismiss your minions and the trap, both dissolving into white dust. A surge of vitality rushes through you, washing away physical exhaustion, reducing bruises, and sealing cuts. You just want to sit, and probably cry or just stare and relax, but there’s more to do. One last thing to make this awful situation right. You stand and straighten yourself out, walking down to the slave pen.

There’s panic at first, eyes wide, pushed as far away as the chains will let them, staring at you. Between the screams, the shouts and the blood covering your body you must look a nightmare of some sort, come to claim them next. It takes a few minutes for your mind to catch up, to remember that you’re still a person.

“The slavers are dead, I’m going to try and get you out now, ok?”

It’s everything you have to not cry when they start to. You can’t find a key to the shackles, and you start thinking you’ll need to start checking corpses for it, then one by one each shackle simply pops open as you focus on it. The power of Dominion. There’s weeping and hugging aplenty, a hundred promises of paying you somehow, some of which are fulfilled immediately as the survivors fall upon the crates, finding fresh clothes, devouring food, and heaping jewelry on you. It doesn’t take long before the group has organized under an elderly woman still sporting a black eye, given you one last tearful thank you, and marched out of the cave, leaving you with more than you can carry in supplies and precious items.

You repack your bags numbly, packing every last pocket with silver, jewelry and even a few rough gemstones. Your cursebreaker and monocle are clipped back to your belt, your tattered clothing replaced with quality clothes from a crate. Your travel gear is augmented and put back together as well, and you tally up your wealth, wincing at the sheer weight. Five hundred and twenty two silver coins and three gold coins, to say nothing of the bag of jewelry and gems.

You finally exit the cave system, grimly noting the corpse of the female bandit as you leave. A heavy rock had been slammed into her skull, a parting gift from one of the slaves. You step out, finally, into the sunlight and blink as the sun’s rays stabbed at your eyes. It’s morning, bird song is filling the air, the crisp springtime air of the mountains caresses your skin for a moment before moving on to ruffle the pines.

You have no idea what to do with your life now.

> Go back home. There’s a dungeon in your chest, three disturbed voices in your head, and you don’t have life signs, but hey, you’re rich and this probably won’t kill you. Right?
> Keep heading toward Blue Ridge, you might still be able to catch up with the healer who did this to you, though whether you want answers, help, or even revenge you aren’t sure anymore.
> Change direction toward the capital instead. You're not sure if you want to know more, want some capital luxury, or even to become a mercenary, but you won't find any of it back home
> Write in

>>5692997
>> Keep heading toward Blue Ridge, you might still be able to catch up with the healer who did this to you, though whether you want answers, help, or even revenge you aren’t sure anymore.
>>Keep the magical slave choker. Show it to the healer. Tell her where we got it from. Tell her we got rascued by dudes with swords if she starts grilling us about how we escaped(technically not a lie)
>>Grill her on more info about the black markets that farm dungeons.
>>Start exploring the magical cartels of the world.

>>5692997
> Go back home. There’s a dungeon in your chest, three disturbed voices in your head, and you don’t have life signs, but hey, you’re rich and this probably won’t kill you. Right?

>>5692997
> Keep heading toward Blue Ridge, you might still be able to catch up with the healer who did this to you, though whether you want answers, help, or even revenge you aren’t sure anymore.

>>5692997
>> Go back home. There’s a dungeon in your chest, three disturbed voices in your head, and you don’t have life signs, but hey, you’re rich and this probably won’t kill you. Right?

>>5692997
>Keep heading toward Blue Ridge, you might still be able to catch up with the healer who did this to you, though whether you want answers, help, or even revenge you aren’t sure anymore

>>5692997
>Go back home. There’s a dungeon in your chest, three disturbed voices in your head, and you don’t have life signs, but hey, you’re rich and this probably won’t kill you. Right?

>>5692997
>Keep heading toward Blue Ridge, you might still be able to catch up with the healer who did this to you, though whether you want answers, help, or even revenge you aren’t sure anymore.
We have to at least try to find this woman, though it is very unlikely she is still in Blue Ridge after that bandit detour we took and we're even less likely to find her trail after Blue Ridge.

If she's not in the town, it's probably for the best if we didn't go back home since we're turning in to a dungeon and we'll eventually flood our village with undead that would kill everyone there. Better to find a little hideout in the forest and live a life of solitude.

>>5692997
>Keep heading toward Blue Ridge, you might still be able to catch up with the healer who did this to you, though whether you want answers, help, or even revenge you aren’t sure anymore.

>>5692997
>> Keep heading toward Blue Ridge, you might still be able to catch up with the healer who did this to you, though whether you want answers, help, or even revenge you aren’t sure anymore.

Locking in

> Continue on to Blue Ridge

You trudge forward, following a trail through the pines, your thoughts in turmoil. This...this whole awful experience was basically for nothing. There was no curse, at least not a conventional one. You could, as far as you know, just go home, buy a very nice bed, and get back to your life. It takes a minute for you to realize the frustrated scream is yours, then you follow it up by hurling a rock into the nearest tree. It ricochettes with considerable force and you hear the plunk of it hitting water. You follow the sound on an impulse and find a small pond covered in fading ripples. A frog glares at you from the opposite bank and you glare back.

You look at the water’s surface and your face looks back. More blood stains than you’d care for, and your hair desperately needs the attention of a comb, eyes sunk from not enough sleep and too much stress. A gold and silver slave choker around your neck that you jam in your pack with disgust. Home? A normal life? With skeletons in your heart and death traps in your mind? You turn with a sigh and get moving toward Blue Ridge. Katrina, the healer who did this to you might know something, if you can still catch up to her. Torches were considered experts on dungeons, at least far enough to kill them. She had to know something more than you.

Do you want to be fixed though? Your new power is terrifying, and every bit of it is designed to hunt down and kill people, but it saved your life over and over.

> Yes, you want this thing gone so you can just relax and live peacefully
> No, this power can help people, has helped people. You just need to make sure it doesn’t consume you.
> Yes, it’s clearly a dark power that will spiral out of control if you don’t stop it.
> No, for the first time in your life you aren’t powerless when terrible things happen. You don't want to go back.
> Write in

Don't fret the choice overly much, it's by no means binding, but it does set up your next interactions in Blue Ridge, and hopefully gets my writer's block moving

>>5694118
> No, this power can help people, has helped people. You just need to make sure it doesn’t consume you.

>>5694118
>> Yes, it’s clearly a dark power that will spiral out of control if you don’t stop it.

>>5694118
> No, this power can help people, has helped people. You just need to make sure it doesn’t consume you.

>>5694118
> Yes, it’s clearly a dark power that will spiral out of control if you don’t stop it.

>>5694118
> No, this power can help people, has helped people. You just need to make sure it doesn’t consume you.

We might be able to use our new power to find Lost Garden. :D

>>5694118
>No, for the first time in your life you aren’t powerless when terrible things happen. You don't want to go back.

>>5694118
>> No, this power can help people, has helped people. You just need to make sure it doesn’t consume you.
>> Yes, it’s clearly a dark power that will spiral out of control if you don’t stop it.
people can think conflicting things at the same time

>>5694118
>No, for the first time in your life you aren’t powerless when terrible things happen. You don't want to go back.

>>5694118
>No, this power can help people, has helped people. You just need to make sure it doesn’t consume you.

>>5694118
>> No, for the first time in your life you aren’t powerless when terrible things happen. You don't want to go back.

Tallying and Locking...

Power to Help
>>5694129
>>5694152
>>5694193
>>5694544

Power too Evil to Keep
>>5694145
>>5694153

Power for Myself
>>5694247
>>5694522

Conflicted
>>5694264

>>5694598
You missed this >>5694581 Not that it would change things.

The question occupies you for some time on the road to Blue Ridge, as springtime air went from crisp to cold and the last of the maples gave way to pines. The sun was low and the dirt road had given way to gravel and large stones by the time you come to an answer.

You actually wanted to keep this power, as long as you could keep control over it. It was strange, and terrifying, but it was power, power more than you'd ever had. Power you could protect with, make the world better with. Part of it was definitely just enjoying that the world couldn't shove you around anymore, but you hope that you'll do good with it, like you already have. You just need to know how to control it, and keep it from controlling you.

The sun is setting as you finally make it to Blue Ridge. It's a proper town, ringed with a wooden wall, a pair of guards posted at the only gate into the town. Occasionally travelers passed through your little home village from Blue Ridge on their way further south, or more likely if they made a wrong turn on the way to the capital. They had always described the town as an industrious mining outpost, pulling metal ores from several mine shafts that the town encircled. Supposedly they had fairly steady trade with the capital, although you hadn’t seen any other travelers.

“Ho traveler! What business do you have in Blue Ridge? It’s nearly time to close the gates.” The left guard calls out as you approach.

You halt and hope you managed to scrub the worst of the blood from your face. “I’m looking for a Torch Bearer who was traveling this way, although I might be too late.”

The two guards bristle a bit and hold a brief conversation. The right guard turns toward you, his expression blank. “Why are you seeking her?”

You frown, looking for something close enough to the truth. “She helped me with a magical illness, but it’s returning.” The guards stared, and you hastily add. “It’s not contagious. I guess it’s a curse?”

The guards hold another hushed conversation, before the left one turns back to you. “You see, the Torch you speak of is currently being held as a prisoner, accused of murder. If you are truly suffering from a magic malady that only she can treat, it may be possible to visit her before she is due to be executed in three days.”

You swallow hard. Murder? The kindly healer who literally saved your life, and made sure you had somewhere to sleep while you recovered? Admittedly you didn’t know much of her but...
“I see. Yes, if possible I’d like a chance to speak to her before...she’s executed.”

The two guards exchange another glance and move out of your way. “Fair enough ma’am. Name and where you’re from? For the records.”

“Uh, Idrid, from...” It took a moment to remember the formal name of the village. “From Gladevale. Little logging village a few days to the south.”

“Enjoy your stay ma’am.”

You pass through and try not to jump as the gates close behind you. The streets are mostly empty, though a few people spare you a glance as the sun dips ever lower. Where to even start?

> Well, you definitely need a place to sleep, better find a decent inn before things get completely dark
> Better head to the prison and figure out what’s going on here, even if it means wandering the town at night by the time you’re done
> Fucking hell, go get drunk at a tavern, you need to let off some steam at the sheer madness that’s become your life
> Write in

>>5694974
> Well, you definitely need a place to sleep, better find a decent inn before things get completely dark

>>5694974
> Well, you definitely need a place to sleep, better find a decent inn before things get completely dark

After finding that decent inn, we should immediately head to the prison.

>>5694974
>Well, you definitely need a place to sleep, better find a decent inn before things get completely dark

>>5694974
>Better head to the prison and figure out what’s going on here, even if it means wandering the town at night by the time you’re done

>>5694974
>> Fucking hell, go get drunk at a tavern, you need to let off some steam at the sheer madness that’s become your life

>>5694974
>Well, you definitely need a place to sleep, better find a decent inn before things get completely dark

>>5694974
>Fucking hell, go get drunk at a tavern, you need to let off some steam at the sheer madness that’s become your life

>>5694974
>> Well, you definitely need a place to sleep, better find a decent inn before things get completely dark

The wave of exhaustion makes the decision for you. You need somewhere to get some rest, preferably somewhere with a sturdy lock and hot meal. If the execution was in three days you didn’t have much time, but time enough for a conversation. A passerby recommends you to an inn a few streets over, and within minutes you’ve walked into the Broken Pickaxe. A bulky barman nods to you as you walk into the quiet tavern that makes the first floor of the building. You glance around, catching more than a few glances back, but no one seems particularly concerned with you, with most going back to their meals or drinks quickly. The place is oddly gloomy, conversations are low, no music fills the air, and the crack of the fire is nearly the loudest thing in the room.

“A room for two nights, and a hot meal.”

“Ten silver.” The barkeep rumbles.

You wince and swing your back onto the counter and start undoing the laces toward your money. “That’s a bit high.”

The man grimaced and nods. “Food shortage lately, all I can do to keep anything in stock. Sorry ma’am. Most of it’s the food if you’d rather just have the bed.”

You fish out the coinage, noting the almost embarrassed tone. “I can pay, and I really want a hot meal. It’s been a long few days. What’s the cause of the shortage?”

The barman counts the coins, then barks orders into a kitchen behind him. “I wish I knew ma’am. People have been...getting strange. Hoarding food, buying up supplies.” He leans in close, speaking quietly. “Mostly poorer folk if you ask me. Hasn’t gotten to any of the shop owners or mine bosses.” He pulls back, polishing a ceramic plate vigorously with a rag. “Mayor says he’s looking into it, but I’m not sure anyone has any faith he can. Making it damn hard to do business though.”

A sizzling plate of pork, potatoes and slab of buttered bread is passed to you and you attack with gusto. The bartender laughs and you grin back. “A very long few days.” You sigh with contentment as warm happiness fills you.

“So what brings a traveler all the way up here to the mountains?”

> Tell the truth (mostly)
> Make something up
> Write in

> Ask about the murder
> Just head to your room
> Write in

>>5696106
>Tell the truth (mostly)
We're here to meet with someone, we just need a nap, a bath and a hot meal beforehand. Simple as.

>>5696106
>> Tell the truth (mostly)
at least only that we are looking for the Torch Katrina
>> Ask about the murder

>>5696106
> Tell the truth (mostly)
> Ask about the murder

>>5696106
> Tell the truth (mostly)
> Ask about the murder
Got healed, ended up cursed, trying to find the torch to see if she knows what happened.

>>5696106
> Tell the truth (mostly)
> Just head to your room

>>5696106
>Make something up
>Ask about the murder

"Illness actually. A Torch who healed me is supposed to be here, and there's been some side effects I need help with."

"Hmm. Torches do good work normally. I hope it wasn't the one involved in the incident."

You lean forward. "I heard from the guards. A murder? And it was a Torch? How do they know?"

The barkeep set down his plate and poured himself a mug of beer. "Gruesome scene they say. Some lady Torch comes into town, starts snooping around, does a little healing, nothing unusual. Next thing we know she requests an audience with the mayor. They say she goes nutty during it, ranting, raving, shouting about the gods and corruption. Before you know it she pulls a giant sword out of nowhere and pins a mine boss to the wall! It took six men to wrestle her down. The missus heard from her sister that the bloodstains are still there."

You chew your food slowly and nod before swallowing. "Being a Torch can't be easy. Maybe she broke under the pressure?"

The barkeep shrugs. "Maybe. Good luck with your illness ma'am." A simple copper key is handed to you, with two etched marks scratched onto it. "Room should be the second one just up the stairs. Mind the window, it's a little loose sometimes."

You leave the barman with a smile and head upstairs. The room is a humble affair, but the lock is sturdy, the chamberpot clean and the bed soft. With a full stomach and an actual sense of security for once you're asleep within seconds.

The three are waiting. War paces restlessly around the edge of the island, a spear gripped in her hand and scowl on her face. Death sits and watches War, with tiny hands folded neatly in tiny lap. Dominion lounges on a long padded bench, sipping a drink. Impaled on the bone spikes that ringed your little island in the void are a pair of familiar bandits.

Dominon waves with a salacious grin. "Darling! Aren't the new decorations precious?"

"Uhh, yeah. I guess it's time to pick who gets them?"

War grunts. "Explain fated to her."

"Fated?"

Death stands and points at Silk. "He was fated, then we killed him. Now we have his fate for our own."

Dominon grins. "He's worth more to us. Just one more in his case. Small time."

War growls. "It pushes us over to a threshold. New power."

"War, lovely, why in the world is the rod jammed so far up your ass today?"

War glares. "You can't feel it? We're in hostile terrain. Just pick your threshhold and get on with it."

You open your mouth to protest then options hit your mind suddenly.

> Champion: You can sacrifice five minions to summon a single much stronger minion.
> Dominion Storage: The Domain in your heart is linked to the Domain around your body, allowing you to move inanimate unattended objects between them.
> Preparation: Instead of placing a trap, you can summon a small simple object of common materials. You can dismiss the object and replace it with another object or trap.

>>5696453
>Dominion Storage: The Domain in your heart is linked to the Domain around your body, allowing you to move inanimate unattended objects between them.

>>5696453
>> Dominion Storage: The Domain in your heart is linked to the Domain around your body, allowing you to move inanimate unattended objects between them

>>5696453
>Preparation

>>5696453
>> Dominion Storage: The Domain in your heart is linked to the Domain around your body, allowing you to move inanimate unattended objects between them.
Item Box go

>>5696453
> Dominion Storage: The Domain in your heart is linked to the Domain around your body, allowing you to move inanimate unattended objects between them.

>>5696453
> Dominion Storage: The Domain in your heart is linked to the Domain around your body, allowing you to move inanimate unattended objects between them.

Storage space for loot.

Can Dominion help us cheat in card games?

>>5696772

Theoretically you could be quite the card shark.

>>5696453
>Dominion Storage: The Domain in your heart is linked to the Domain around your body, allowing you to move inanimate unattended objects between them.

>>5696772
>>5696778
Theoretically, imo, Dominion could also help us find Lost Garden.

Taking a few days to outline this next bit, apologies for the delays.

>>5697194
thanks for the heads up

>>5697194
holding down the fort.
interest in the quest is still very much present

>>5699843
Came here to say the same