>>5871209
>>B) The news of your father's death shrouded in mystery compelled you to return, driven by a need to unravel the truth behind his demise.

>>5871209
>B) The news of your father's death shrouded in mystery compelled you to return, driven by a need to unravel the truth behind his demise.

>>5871209
>C) With word of your father's murder reaching you, you've returned, fueled by a burning desire for justice and retribution.

>>5871209

>D) Hearing that your father lies on his deathbed, you've come home to fulfill his final wish to see his eldest son and heir once more

Let’s see what dear old dad has to say

>>5871209
>A) Upon learning of your father's passing due to old age, you've come back to Blackthorn Keep to claim your birthright.

>>5871209
>>D) Hearing that your father lies on his deathbed, you've come home to fulfill his final wish to see his eldest son and heir once more

>>5871211
>>5871214
>>5871219
Garrick nods slowly, as if coming to a decision. He reaches for a heavy key hanging from his belt, its metal cold and unyielding. The lock clicks, echoing in the silence that surrounds the keep. The gates creak open, revealing the darkened courtyard beyond.
As you step inside, memories flood your senses. Laughter and screams, the clashing of swords, the weight of expectations too heavy for a boy to bear. You were fourteen when you left, a child running from shadows. Now, those shadows seem to welcome you back, whispering of old secrets and new dangers.
"You've changed, milord," Garrick says, watching you closely. "The world outside these walls... it has marked you."
"It has," you agree, your hand instinctively resting on the hilt of your sword. "But some things remain the same. I am still a Blackthorn."
Garrick nods, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "That you are, milord. That you are."
You look up at the keep, its towers reaching towards a sky shrouded in dark clouds. Home. Prison. Sanctuary. The keep has been all these things to you, and now, you must face it once again.
As you walk towards the main hall, the sound of your footsteps echoes off the stone walls, a lone testament to your return. The prodigal son, back to face whatever darkness lies within.
You had never expected to return, but the news of your father's death shrouded in mystery compelled you to return, driven by a need to unravel the truth behind his demise.

>A) You fled after uncovering a dark family secret that threatened your very identity.
>B) You were exiled by your father for disobeying him.
>C) Your father had remarried and you hated your new stepmother.
>D) You left to join the crusade against your father's wishes.

>>5871232
>>5871234
>>5871237
Sorry, I already started writing and forgot to refresh for new votes.

>>5871239
>A) You fled after uncovering a dark family secret that threatened your very identity.

>>5871239
>D) You left to join the crusade against your father's wishes.

>>5871239
>E) Your father had remarried and you loved your new stepmother.

>>5871239
>>C) Your father had remarried and you hated your new stepmother.

>>5871239
>E) Your father had remarried and you loved your new stepmother.

>>5871239
>A) You fled after uncovering a dark family secret that threatened your very identity.

>>5871239
>D) You left to join the crusade against your father's wishes.

>>5871239
>E) Your father had remarried and you loved your new stepmother.
>D) You left to join the crusade against your father's wishes.
You were in love with your stepmother so you left and became a crusader

>>5871244
>>5871246
>>5871247
>>5871255
>>5871258
>>5871270
>>5871272
>>5871286
The heavy door of the main hall groans open, revealing the familiar, yet hauntingly empty, expanse where once laughter and life had thrived. As you step inside, the memories rush at you like phantoms from the shadows.
You recall the days of your youth, the innocent mirth echoing in these now silent halls. You were the only child of Lady Agatha, whose frail health yielded no other heirs. The children of the castle's guards and servants were your playmates, their faces now mere whispers in your memory, faded by the passage of time and the brutality of war.
Amid these fleeting images, Mirena, the Castellan's daughter, still shines brightly in your recollection. She was more than a friend in your youth, almost a sister, yet within you smoldered a secret, deeper affection for her.
Visions of your mother, Lady Agatha, with her tender smile and warm gaze, drift through your thoughts. Her passing left a chasm in your heart, a sorrow that time has not eased.
However, your father, Lord Edric, scarcely waited a year before remarrying. His choice of bride was the catalyst for your departure. Mirena, not only your childhood friend but also a girl you secretly loved, who was like a daughter to your mother, was betrothed to him, a man three decades her senior. The thought of sharing the keep with her as your stepmother was unbearable.
The memory of their wedding night haunts you – the bedding ceremony in the main hall, the consummation of the marriage. You recall the feeling of betrayal, the anger, the heartache, the jealousy – it was a tempest too fierce for your young heart.
In the darkness of that night, you fled. You told the world it was for the crusade, a noble cause. But deep down, it was an escape, a desperate flight from a reality too painful to confront.
The crusades took you to distant lands, where you fought not for glory, but for sheer survival. Each battle, each life you claimed, was a step away from the past, a numbing of the pain that haunted you.
Now, after ten years, you stand once again in the hollow heart of your ancestral home. The old steward, Master Lewin, approaches you. Bent with age, his eyes still hold the flicker of recognition. He was the one who taught you to read, to write, shaping the mind behind the warrior.
"Caden, is it truly you?" Master Lewin's voice is frail, yet there is a strength in his gaze. "Where have you been all these years?"

>A) In the sun-scorched holy land, you battled fervently against the zealous devotees of the Sacred Flame.
>B) Amidst the eerie, twisted landscapes of the cursed lands, you clashed with the cannibalistic followers of the Leopard Woman.
>C) In the icy, relentless expanse of the frigid north, you stood against the ancient worshipers of the Heart Trees.
>D) Far in the mystic realms of the east, you found yourself locked in combat with the devoted followers of Kalka of the Eight Hands.

>>5871315
>C) In the icy, relentless expanse of the frigid north, you stood against the ancient worshipers of the Heart Trees.

>>5871315
>C) In the icy, relentless expanse of the frigid north, you stood against the ancient worshipers of the Heart Trees.

>>5871315
>D) Far in the mystic realms of the east, you found yourself locked in combat with the devoted followers of Kalka of the Eight Hands.

>>5871315
>>A) In the sun-scorched holy land, you battled fervently against the zealous devotees of the Sacred Flame.
Zoroastrians?

>>5871315
>B) Amidst the eerie, twisted landscapes of the cursed lands, you clashed with the cannibalistic followers of the Leopard Woman.


I'm choosing this cause that sounds hardcore as fuck

>>5871315
>>B) Amidst the eerie, twisted landscapes of the cursed lands, you clashed with the cannibalistic followers of the Leopard Woman.

>>5871315
>B) Amidst the eerie, twisted landscapes of the cursed lands, you clashed with the cannibalistic followers of the Leopard Woman.

>>5871316
>>5871317
>>5871318
>>5871321
>>5871323
>>5871330
>>5871346
You look at him, the familiar face of your childhood, and weigh your words. "I was on the crusades, Master Lewin," you reply, the half-truth sitting uneasily on your tongue.
In truth, over the past decade, amidst the eerie, twisted landscapes of the cursed lands, you clashed with the cannibalistic followers of the Leopard Woman. You were among the crusaders who razed her grotesque temples to the ground, enduring the curses of her cannibalistic priests as they condemned you and your lineage with their dying breaths. The nightmares you witnessed in those lands... those are details you can't burden Master Lewin with.
The old man nods, a shadow of sorrow passing over his features. "Much has changed since you left, my lord. Much has changed..."
You can sense the unspoken words, the secrets that linger in the air like dust motes in the sunlight. Blackthorn Keep is a shell of its former self, and you, its prodigal son, must untangle the twisted threads of its history to reclaim your place within these walls.
As you walk through the hall, the ghostly memories swirl around you, memories of joy and pain, love and loss.
"Caden... I mean, Lord Blackthorn..." You encounter a young knight, whom you recognize as Corwin, a friend from your childhood, son of old Sir Allister. "I scarcely believed Garrick when he said you were back."
"Indeed, it's me, in person," you respond. "How fares your father?"
"He passed away two winters ago," Sir Corwin answers, a hint of sadness in his voice. "Taken by the Old Woman of Winter."
"My sympathies," you offer, genuine in your condolence. "He was an honorable man."
"He was," Sir Corwin acknowledges. "And my sympathies for your father as well. I still can't grasp why... but never mind that now."

>A) Your father was found in his study, slumped over his desk with an empty vial of what was later identified as a rare, potent poison, the source and reason for its ingestion a mystery.
>B) During a violent storm, your father's body was discovered at the base of the keep's tallest tower, leading to speculation about whether he fell, was pushed, or jumped.
>C) Your father's body was discovered in the forest, seemingly eaten by some strange animal whose footprints couldn't be recognized.
>D) He succumbed suddenly at a feast, with no apparent signs of illness or injury, leading to rumors of a curse or poison.
>E) Your father's body was found in the chapel, clutching a relic of the family's patron saint, with an expression of terror frozen on his face, suggesting a death that was both unexpected and terrifying.

>>5871358
>C) Your father's body was discovered in the forest, seemingly eaten by some strange animal whose footprints couldn't be recognized.

Cause it connects to the crusading

>>5871358
>E) Your father's body was found in the chapel, clutching a relic of the family's patron saint, with an expression of terror frozen on his face, suggesting a death that was both unexpected and terrifying.

>>5871358
>F)He was discovered in a secret passageway with multiple stab wounds, only accessible by royal members and their closest staff.

>>5871358
>>C) Your father's body was discovered in the forest, seemingly eaten by some strange animal whose footprints couldn't be recognized.

>>5871358

>C) Your father's body was discovered in the forest, seemingly eaten by some strange animal whose footprints couldn't be recognized.

This quest has been uncommonly based so far.

>>5871387
yeah I was worried about the demi incest some anons brought in with the write in (Since I've seen what incest horny anons do to a quest), but Writer got up to bat and assuaged my fears by how he interpreted their choice which added for some extra intrigue with how he wrote it out

Which is honestly a talent, since I've seen other QMs crumble bowing to incest demands, especially in ASOIAF quests, like bastard of westeros

>>5871358
>>E) Your father's body was found in the chapel, clutching a relic of the family's patron saint, with an expression of terror frozen on his face, suggesting a death that was both unexpected and terrifying.

>>5871358
>B) During a violent storm, your father's body was discovered at the base of the keep's tallest tower, leading to speculation about whether he fell, was pushed, or jumped.

>>5871358
>>C) Your father's body was discovered in the forest, seemingly eaten by some strange animal whose footprints couldn't be recognized.

>>5871387
>>5871392

Quite so

>>5871392
>>5871448
Here comes the faggot brigade to ruin the quest.

>>5871459
Go back to thine lair, Coomer.

>>5871459
Shuffle off back to your discord tranny.

File: 022cb6c4dbb2f4ab5827fb5e6(...).jpg (41 KB, 500x750)

41 KB JPG

>>5871362
>>5871371
>>5871383
>>5871384
>>5871387
>>5871392
>>5871402
>>5871407
>>5871448
>>5871459
>>5871460
>>5871486
As you stand in the echoing halls of Blackthorn Keep, the unresolved mystery of your father's death weighs heavily on your mind. His body, discovered in the forest, seemingly eaten by some strange animal whose footprints couldn't be recognized, leaves too many questions unanswered. He was no hunter, especially not in the twilight of his fifties, and certainly not alone in the dead of night.
The local wolves, though known to roam the forest, were not known to attack men, especially so close to human habitation. What beast then, could have brought down your father? The possibility of murder, disguised as an animal attack, lingers in your thoughts like a dark shadow. Could his body have been staged with starved hounds to create the illusion of a wild beast's doing? The strange footprints near the site could have been a fabrication, the product of fearful and superstitious minds.
These troubling thoughts swirl in your head when a familiar voice cuts through the silence, anchoring you back to the present.
"It has been a while, Caden," Mirena stands before you. The sight of her, the first in a decade, strikes you with a mix of emotions. She has blossomed into full womanhood, her beauty even more striking than in your memories. Her golden hair is neatly braided, befitting her status as the Lady of Blackthorn Keep, your father's widow. Yet, the sight of her adorned in a blue silken gown, unmistakably your late mother's, ignites a spark of resentment within you. It was likely a gift from your father, but the symbolism stings nonetheless.
"Mirena." The name of your once-closest friend leaves your lips for the first time in a decade, a mixture of nostalgia and bitterness. You had imagined this encounter countless times, rehearsed confrontations and accusations. Yet, faced with her, all you manage to say is, "You look well."

"You look... hardened," Mirena observes, her eyes tracing the scars etched into your skin. "A warrior... like in our childhood games."
"Ten years of war tend to do that," you reply, your mind flashing back to the horrors and bloodshed of distant battles, the nightmarish rituals at temples dedicated to some Leopard Goddess. "I'm relieved you've been safe here."
Her snort, so reminiscent of the candid girl she once was, momentarily bridges the gap of years between you. "Safe?" she says with a hint of irony. "Try birthing four children and tell me about safety. Each of my children was born heavier than you were, according to Old Thora."
Mirena's mention of Old Thora, the castle's midwife who brought you into the world and who also delivered her children, brings a bitter realization. Of course, in ten years as your father's wife, she would have borne his children. Yet, this knowledge feels like a physical blow.
"How many children?" you find yourself asking softly.
"Four," Mirena answers. "Two boys and two girls. Your half-siblings. Your blood. Lena, Robar, Tessa, and Edwin." She describes each child, painting a picture of a family you're distantly connected to yet estranged from. You remain silent, torn between the desire to know your half-siblings and the urge to distance yourself from them.
"Your father always worried about you," Mirena continues, her voice tinged with a blend of concern and something else, something deeper. "I worried too. We feared the worst until your gift arrived two months ago."
"Gift?" you ask, confusion clouding your thoughts.
"Don't you remember?" Mirena's eyebrows rise in surprise. "The statue from the cursed lands. The woman with the head of a leopard. Your father was overjoyed, knowing his eldest son still lived and remembered him."

>A) "I never sent any gifts," you reply, confusion evident in your tone.
>B) "Where exactly is this statue now?" you ask, curiosity piqued.
>C) "It could have been part of the spoils of war, not a gift from me," you suggest, trying to make sense of it.
>D) The priest's curse echoes in your memory, "You and your blood shall know her wrath," chilling you to the bone.
>E) "I need to speak with the other crusaders who were with me when we burnt down the temple," you resolve, seeking answers.

>>5871492
>A) "I never sent any gifts," you reply, confusion evident in your tone.

>>5871492
>D) The priest's curse echoes in your memory, "You and your blood shall know her wrath," chilling you to the bone.

Caden seems like a smart lad, at least smart enough to notice the connection

And I can already see where this is going, Mirena is probably cursed into being a wereleopardess or something of the kind by that pagan idol. Interesting. I am trembling with anticipation

>>5871492
>D) The priest's curse echoes in your memory, "You and your blood shall know her wrath," chilling you to the bone.

>>5871492
>>E) "I need to speak with the other crusaders who were with me when we burnt down the temple," you resolve, seeking answers.

>>5871492
>D) The priest's curse echoes in your memory, "You and your blood shall know her wrath," chilling you to the bone.

>>5871492

>D) The priest's curse echoes in your memory, "You and your blood shall know her wrath," chilling you to the bone.

Uh oh

>>5871496
>>5871498
>>5871499
>>5871522
>>5871534
>>5871547
The priest's curse echoes in your memory, "You and your blood shall know her wrath," chilling you to the bone.
Suddenly, you recall the tragic fate of Tomas, a fellow crusader in the sacking of the Leopard Woman's temple. He returned to a nightmare – his young children brutally slain and mutilated by brigands, leading him to take his own life in despair. You can't help but wonder if it wasn't mere brigands, but something more sinister at play.
The thought strikes you hard – as someone without children, the malevolent followers of the Leopard Woman may have directed their wrath towards your father, the closest blood you had. And then, a horrifying realization grips you – Mirena's children, your half-siblings, could be at risk from the curse. Despite your estrangement, they are still connected to you by blood.
You decide to keep your suspicions about the cursed statue to yourself, fearing disbelief and dismissal. The others haven't seen the dark magic you witnessed at the hands of the Leopard Woman's priests.

At dinner, Mirena introduces you to the children she bore your father. "Meet your older brother, Caden," she tells them, her voice warm and welcoming.
Lena, the eldest at ten with her mother's blonde hair, greets you with a courteous curtsy. "Welcome home, big brother." She stands on the cusp of womanhood, soon to flower and be the subject of marriage proposals. The innocence in her eyes reminds you of a life untouched by the darkness you've encountered. The thought that she was likely conceived on the night of your father and Mirena's wedding leaves a sour taste in your mouth.
Robar, seven years old and bearing a striking resemblance to your shared father but with Mirena's eyes, eagerly asks, "Can you tell me about the crusades, brother?" His young voice is filled with admiration and the dream of following in your footsteps.
Tessa, the inquisitive five-year-old, bombards you with questions. "Is it true they eat people?" she asks with a mix of fear and fascination, her dark hair framing her face much like your shared father's, but her candid curiosity reminds you of Mirena at that age.
Edwin, the youngest at three with golden locks, clings to Mirena, his small voice barely more than a whisper. "I am cold, mother." His frailty is evident, a product of your father's aging sperm at his advanced age.
As Mirena's children express their curiosity and excitement at meeting their long-lost big brother, your thoughts are consumed by the statue of the Leopard Woman. It may very well be a cursed totem, potentially capable of invoking a lesser form of the Leopard Woman herself, endangering everyone connected to you by blood.

>A) Resolved, you decide that as the eldest son, it falls upon you to avenge your father's death, bridging the distance of estrangement with a final act of familial duty.
>B) You determine that the beast must be slain, driven by the need to protect the lives of your half-siblings, the innocent children of Mirena.
>C) You make a grim decision to confront and destroy the beast, fueled by a personal vendetta against the followers of the Leopard Woman and their dark practices.
>D) Inside, you grapple with feelings of resentment towards your half-siblings, seeing them as symbols of the life and love you lost when your father married Mirena.
>E) Each encounter with your half-siblings ignites a bitter rage within you, a reminder of how your father replaced you and your mother, symbolized hauntingly by Mirena's wearing of the same blue gown.

>>5871571
>E) Each encounter with your half-siblings ignites a bitter rage within you, a reminder of how your father replaced you and your mother, symbolized hauntingly by Mirena's wearing of the same blue gown

>>5871571
>B) You determine that the beast must be slain, driven by the need to protect the lives of your half-siblings, the innocent children of Mirena.

>>5871571
>B) You determine that the beast must be slain, driven by the need to protect the lives of your half-siblings, the innocent children of Mirena.

>>5871571
>B) You determine that the beast must be slain, driven by the need to protect the lives of your half-siblings, the innocent children of Mirena.

>>5871571

>C) You make a grim decision to confront and destroy the beast, fueled by a personal vendetta against the followers of the Leopard Woman and their dark practices.

Once this is done, maybe we can find a way to co-exist with them in the castle. Or exile them to somewhere comfortable, if that’s possible

>>5871571
>>B) You determine that the beast must be slain, driven by the need to protect the lives of your half-siblings, the innocent children of Mirena.
>>C) You make a grim decision to confront and destroy the beast, fueled by a personal vendetta against the followers of the Leopard Woman and their dark practices.
Call Corwin and the rest of the warriors, we will have our blades blessed in our chapel by our priest, and be ready for smash and burn that foul statue. If the pagans didn't understand it in the crusade to die and be kicked in the grave, more of their blood will be spilled today from whatever beast manifest it self from the statue.
Not the one of more innocents.

>>5871571
>A) Resolved, you decide that as the eldest son, it falls upon you to avenge your father's death, bridging the distance of estrangement with a final act of familial duty.

>>5871571
>>A) Resolved, you decide that as the eldest son, it falls upon you to avenge your father's death, bridging the distance of estrangement with a final act of familial duty.

>>5871573
>>5871575
>>5871576
>>5871579
>>5871584
>>5871599
>>5871601
>>5871606
You determine that the beast must be slain, driven by the need to protect the lives of your half-siblings, the innocent children of Mirena.
You steel yourself against the complex emotions swirling within you. The birth of your half-siblings, born of a union that still stirs feelings of betrayal and jealousy, cannot be their fault. They are innocent, untouched by the darkness that has marked your life and Mirena's. Your duty now, as their eldest brother, is to protect them.
After Mirena escorts the children to their chambers, offering them the warmth and care of a devoted mother, you find yourself observing her. The girl from your childhood has matured into a remarkable parent. Your younger siblings appear happy and safe, and you are determined to ensure their safety continues.
Grasping your sword, its familiar weight a reassurance at your side, you step into the mist-enveloped night. The thick fog wraps around you, a ghostly embrace as you contemplate your next move.
Killing a goddess is beyond your means, but perhaps you can shatter her earthly reflection, her cursed influence. Yet, doubt nags at you. Should you face this daunting challenge alone, or seek the aid of allies?

>A) You resolve to face this battle alone, believing that you are the sole person capable of confronting this monstrous beast.
>B) You choose to place your trust in Sir Corwin, your childhood companion, and involve him in your perilous quest.
>C) Deciding to enlist the help of Corwin and the keep's garrison, you understand there's a risk of seeming deranged if the beast remains elusive.

>>5871624
>A) You resolve to face this battle alone, believing that you are the sole person capable of confronting this monstrous beast.

>>5871624

>B) You choose to place your trust in Sir Corwin, your childhood companion, and involve him in your perilous quest.

But for fucks sake, let’s be smart about this. Strictly tracking the beast, dont fucking charge into its lair with only one dude for backup.

Once we locate, summon the guard and exterminate the thing with prejudice

>>5871643
+1

And maybe bring some good hunting or scent hounds with us, to avoid getting jumped

>>5871624
>>B) You choose to place your trust in Sir Corwin, your childhood companion, and involve him in your perilous quest.

>>5871633
>>5871643
>>5871653
>>5871683
You choose to place your trust in Sir Corwin, your childhood companion, and involve him in your perilous quest.
"Lord Blackthorn? Why are you out here at this hour?" Corwin inquires with a hint of concern.
You draw a deep breath before responding, "Do you recall how we used to pretend to hunt monsters as kids?"
Sir Corwin nods, a distant look in his eyes. "Yes, I remember. It was us, the other lads, and Mirena... I mean, Lady Blackthorn..."
"I need your help now, Corwin," you say earnestly. "But this time, it's not a game. I have to hunt down the real monster that murdered my father."
Corwin's expression turns serious. "We've combed the forest numerous times, my lord, but to no avail."
"That's because you lacked the right lure," you explain. "This creature, it hunts by bloodline. It's after my blood."
You reveal to him the horrifying truth – that the entity, an embodiment of the Leopard Woman, savagely killed your father.
If you don't act swiftly, two more mutilated bodies will be found in the forest by tomorrow. It's a grim race against time, and you need Corwin's aid to prevent further tragedy.
You decide to take along a couple of skilled hunting or scent hounds, hoping to avoid getting jumped. You hope that you're dealing with a lesser manifestation of the Leopard Woman, something you and Corwin can handle on your own.
Yet, underlying your plans is a pervasive fear that the threat might be far greater. In that scenario, your only option would be to retreat swiftly and summon the guards for backup. Even then, you can't shake the feeling that it might not be enough to contend with the looming danger.

>Roll D100

Rolled 87 (1d100)

>>5871687
High or low, hoss?

Rolled 67 (1d100)

>>5871687

>>5871688
>>5871691
The hounds, with their keen senses, detect the presence before you do. Rather than charging as they would with typical prey, they cower, their whimpers filling the heavy air, ears flattened in fear.
You and Corwin exchange a knowing look, a silent agreement passing between you. The creature is near.
Your experiences with the Leopard Woman's minions flash through your mind. Some, mere shadows, dissipated under the strike of your crusader blade, etched with sacred inscriptions. Others, far more daunting, bled black ichor – humans distorted into grotesque, cursed beings.
You grip your sword, feeling its reassuring weight, as the mist swirls around you, a ghostly caress.
Then, it emerges. Sprinting towards you with a speed that defies nature. It’s a horrifying sight – a grotesque fusion of a woman and a leopard, its distorted human body clashing with the feral head of a beast.
You brace yourself, steadying your breath. The monster lunges, singling you out, ignoring Corwin. With a swift sidestep, you evade and counter, your blade slicing through its aberrant flesh.
Corwin joins the battle, his bravery unwavering even if his swordsmanship doesn't match yours. He takes on the role of a distractor, giving you the focus you need to strike the killing blow.
The creature lands a vicious scratch, its twisted claws raking across your skin, adding another mark to your war-torn body. But you push past the pain, knowing there will be time to tend to wounds later.
The struggle is intense, feeling like an endless ordeal, though in truth, only moments pass. Each move you make is calculated, each swing of your blade a dance with death. The Leopard Woman's avatar is relentless, but you are equally resolute.
In this mist-shrouded battle, with every slash, every dodge, you fight not just for your life, but for the lives of those you've sworn to protect. Your unsuspecting half-siblings, the innocent children of your lost love. Their safety, their futures, rest in your hands. The beast's eerie howls mix with the clash of steel, a desperate struggle for survival under the moonlit sky.
At the critical juncture, as Corwin bravely diverts the creature's focus, you seize your chance. With a battle cry, you channel all your strength and speed into a final, lethal strike. Caught off-guard by Corwin's maneuver, the creature turns just as your sword sweeps through the air.
With a final, decisive movement, your blade meets its neck. The creature's head is severed cleanly, its body collapsing to the ground with a thud that seems to echo through the forest. Silence falls, broken only by the heavy breaths you and Corwin exhale.

>Roll D100

Rolled 12 (1d100)

>>5871708

Rolled 57 (1d100)

>>5871708

Rolled 80 (1d100)

>>5871708

Rolled 97 (1d100)

>>5871687
Track. Pursue. Lure. Slay.

>>5871714
>>5871718
>>5871719
>>5871721
As you stand there, gazing at the remains of the creature, a cold dread grips you. The possibility that this beast might have been someone you knew, twisted by the Leopard Woman's sorcery into this grotesque form, haunts you. Could you have unwittingly slain a loved one, mistaking them for a monster?
To your immense relief, that fear proves unfounded. The creature dissolves like a shadow under the moon, leaving behind only a small statue, now decapitated, just as the beast itself.
Corwin, looking at the remains, his voice laced with shock and awe, asks, "Is this the kind of thing you faced during the crusades?"
"Mostly, we fought against other men," you respond, then add with a heavy heart, "But not always."
Your return to Blackthorn Keep was driven by the need to uncover the truth behind your father's mysterious death. Now, standing in the aftermath of this surreal encounter, having seemingly avenged him, you're left pondering your next steps.
Should you remain at Blackthorn Keep, accepting the responsibilities and burdens of your birthright? Or should you venture back into the wider world, a place where your skills as a warrior and your knowledge of darker forces could be put to use?
The decision weighs heavily on you. Blackthorn Keep, despite its ghosts and painful memories, is still home. Yet, the world beyond its walls beckons, a realm filled with mysteries and battles that call to your warrior's heart.

>A) Stay at Blackthorn Keep, embracing your role as the heir and protector, rebuilding what was lost and forging a new legacy for your house.
>B) Leave Blackthorn Keep, venturing back into the wider world to use your skills and knowledge to combat the darker forces that lurk beyond its walls.

>>5871734
>A) Stay at Blackthorn Keep, embracing your role as the heir and protector, rebuilding what was lost and forging a new legacy for your house.

>>5871734
>B) Leave Blackthorn Keep, venturing back into the wider world to use your skills and knowledge to combat the darker forces that lurk beyond its walls.
We did what we came here to do.

>>5871734

>A) Stay at Blackthorn Keep, embracing your role as the heir and protector, rebuilding what was lost and forging a new legacy for your house.

But we gotta find a new woman and train the half siblings to be loyal to us

>C) Rule until you have an heir yourself, or one of your half-brothers comes of age & you can abdicate in favor of regency, whichever should happen first.
>D) Burn the remains of the wretched idol.
>E) Raise Sir Corwin up as befitting his heroism, to a Knight Banneret or a Baronet, whichever being within your means to do so.
>F) Oversee the training of your half-brothers as squires once they begin to come of age.
Absolutely kino writing thus far QM, & I've enjoyed the interpretations of our choices as well as the meaningful distinctions between those presented thus far. I divvied up my write-ins in-case other anons want to just support some of said notions, but not all.

>>5871734
>A) Stay at Blackthorn Keep, embracing your role as the heir and protector, rebuilding what was lost and forging a new legacy for your house.
Fuck step-mom time hell yes

>>5871734
>>A) Stay at Blackthorn Keep, embracing your role as the heir and protector, rebuilding what was lost and forging a new legacy for your house.
burn idol

>>5871734
>>A) Stay at Blackthorn Keep, embracing your role as the heir and protector, rebuilding what was lost and forging a new legacy for your house.

We can leave again in a year or two. War was rough time for rest is now.

>>5871734
>>A) Stay at Blackthorn Keep, embracing your role as the heir and protector, rebuilding what was lost and forging a new legacy for your house.
in many ways this happened because we did not correspond with our father if he knew what we were fighting during the crusades he never would of taken the statue

>>5871734
>>A) Stay at Blackthorn Keep, embracing your role as the heir and protector, rebuilding what was lost and forging a new legacy for your house.

>>5871315
why the fuck did you guys choose to be cucked?

>>5872028
People are faggots

>>5872049
i hate coomers so fucking much.

>>5872054
Yeah, as if things weren't grim enough around here.

>>5871737
>>5871748
>>5871749
>>5871752
>>5871851
>>5871932
>>5871965
>>5871983
>>5871990
>>5872028
>>5872049
>>5872054
>>5872087
You burn the remains of the wretched idol, watching as the flames consume the last vestige of the beast that had murdered your father. As the fire crackles and consumes the remnants, you ponder whether the devotees of the Leopard Woman will continue their vendetta or finally relinquish their pursuit. As a single crusader among many, you hope they'll consider you too small a target to pursue further, especially given their diminished state. Even the most zealous have their limits, and their numbers have dwindled since the Crusaders' victory.
As you make your way back to the keep, a dizzying lightheadedness overtakes you. The wound from the fight, more grievous than you initially realized, has left you significantly weakened from blood loss.
"Lord Blackthorn?" Corwin's voice cuts through your fog of pain, his tone laced with concern. "Caden—"
Before you can muster a reply, darkness envelops you.
When consciousness returns, you find yourself in the lord's chamber, lying on the grand bed that once belonged to your father, the soft linen bedding unfamiliar after years of hard campaign cots. You realize Corwin must have carried you back after you fainted from the blood loss. You're without your shirt, your torso neatly bandaged, evidence of skilled care. Lady Blackthorn sits beside you, her poise impeccable, every inch the lady of the keep, embodying the very essence of noble grace.
"You're awake," Mirena says gently, her gaze filled with a mix of concern and relief. In her presence, she is all the things she has been to you: a childhood friend, your unrequited love, your father's widow, the Lady of Blackthorn Keep, and now your stepmother. "What happened to you?"
"A beast," you reply tersely, choosing not to delve into the supernatural aspects of your adversary. "The same one that killed your husband. It won't be troubling us any longer."
She absorbs the news, a subtle shift in her demeanor. "So you've avenged your father," she muses, then pauses, gathering her strength before asking the question that clearly weighs on her, "Are you going to leave again?"
You weigh her question heavily in your mind. Your departure a decade ago was driven by the unbearable pain of seeing the girl you loved as your father's bride. If he were still alive, perhaps the same anguish would have driven you away once more. Yet, now, with a pensive heart, you voice the question that has tormented you for ten years, "Why did you agree to marry my father?"
"Agree?" Mirena's response is laced with a tinge of bitterness, "When Lady Agatha passed, my father proposed the match, and your father accepted. My consent was never sought."
The regret and misunderstanding of years unravel in a few sentences. "I felt betrayed, lost, and heartbroken. But I should have stayed, should have fought for you, not fled to the crusades."

A fleeting glimmer of hope flickers in Mirena's eyes, swiftly masked by the resignation of the past. "I waited for you, hoping you'd return and take me away from this keep. But you never came, and as seasons changed and my belly swelled with your father's child, I had to accept my new life here as the Lady of Blackthorn Keep."
Regret fills your voice, lamenting the lost years and what might have been. "I should've opposed the marriage, told you my feelings. We could have spared ourselves a decade of pain, scars and regrets."
"We were just children," Mirena softly reminds you. "You shouldn't blame yourself. We both were thrust into roles we weren't ready for—a young girl into marriage and motherhood, a boy into war. Neither of us should have had to endure what we did. But those were the hands we were dealt."
Your resolve hardens as you vow, "I won't run again." You will stay at Blackthorn Keep, embracing your role as the heir and protector, rebuilding what was lost, and forging a new legacy for your house. "We've suffered enough. I'll ensure a better future for your children."
Mirena expresses a fear that had lingered in her heart. "I worried you'd resent the children, considering their lineage..."
"They are innocent, and they are my blood," you interject firmly, silencing any such fears. "My duty is to protect them, not harbor bitterness for the past."
"Thank you, Caden," Mirena whispers. Once your childhood friend and secret love, now your father's widow, the Lady of Blackthorn Keep, your stepmother, and mother to your half-siblings. "House Blackthorn has waned in the last decade. It needs a lord like you."
Eager to embrace your responsibilities, you ask, "What troubles has our house faced in my absence?"
Mirena answers, "Brigands, mostly. With the lord aging and the heir missing, many perceived us as vulnerable, leading brigands to torment our people. They've been robbing merchants and ravaging girls."
"Then that's where I'll begin," you declare, a newfound determination surging within you. You're no longer the prodigal son who ran away. You're home and it's time to address the wrongs and restore your house to its former strength and glory.

I'm putting a pause on our story for now. We'll pick up where we left off after the holidays.

>>5872243
Ok see ya

>>5872238
Sure with killing brigands
But first, learn what we have and our lands
Then
Have a scribe write and send letters about the statue surprise of the pagan cultists of the Leopard Woman. Its better to inform other crusaders returning, other lords and the church about this kind of foul sorcerery made by the last bitter failures of the remaining cannibal pagans. Might save some unprepared people or ensure more righteous vengeance is done.

And use a chainmail next time.

>>5872333
I second these, and upgrading our armor.
The thread will probably still be up at this rate, so would you consider putting up the next update in order to get a vote going to determine what direction we head in when we resume?

>>5872333
>>5872337
>>5872879
After Mirena's departure, reclining on the lord's bed, you find yourself staring at the ancient stone ceiling, your mind adrift in a sea of memories. This grand bed, adorned with the finest linens, holds memories both sweet and bitter. It was the marital bed of your parents, the place of your conception, and later, the bed your father shared with Mirena for the past decade, a union that twisted your heart even now.
The thought of their union, of Mirena fulfilling her wifely duties to your father, stirs a visceral discomfort within you. And the reality that your younger half-siblings were likely conceived here only sharpens the resentment. Overcome by these bitter reflections, you force yourself up and out, leaving the lord's chamber behind.
Your steps lead you to the lord's study. Here, you begin to draft several letters, alerting old comrades, neighboring lords, and the church about the foul sorcery of the Leopard Woman's cult. You detail the encounter with the avatar and the cursed statue, a warning to prevent further casualties and perhaps rally more forces against this lingering pagan threat and ensure more righteous vengeance is done.
"I need these letters dispatched immediately," you instruct Master Lewin, asserting your authority as the new Lord of Blackthorn Keep.
"Right away, my lord," Master Lewin, the loyal old steward from your father's time, assures with a nod, recognizing the urgency of your words.
In the ensuing hours, you immerse yourself in understanding the current affairs of House Blackthorn. The once-proud house is in a state of decline, its glory days eclipsed by recent hardships. Bandit incursions, failing crops, and a scarcity of wildlife depict a bleak scenario, exacerbated by your father's frailty in his final years.
The household itself mirrors the keep's fortunes. Household staff like Lewin, Garrick, and Old Thora show the wear of time, their bodies bent with age. They are contrasted by the young, green, inexperienced servants and squires – the nascent generation upon whom the future of Blackthorn Keep rests.
Compelled by a desire to reconnect with your past, you wander the same corridors that once seemed majestic in your youthful eyes. Now, they bear the weight of age and neglect, their grandeur faded with time. Your steps lead you to the training grounds, where echoes of past lessons and laughter linger.
Sir Corwin is there, instructing the new squires in combat, much like his father, the late Sir Allister, did for you. Among the novices is Robar, your seven-year-old half-brother. He bears an uncanny resemblance to your shared father, yet his eyes are distinctly Mirena's.
"Should you be up and about, Lord Blackthorn?" Corwin inquires with a hint of worry. You respond with a dismissive shrug, "I've endured far worse than this, Corwin." Observing Robar, you notice his attempts to catch your eye, his small frame wielding a wooden sword almost as large as him.

"Don't be hasty," you advise him, watching as he takes a stance. "Wait for your opponent, conserve your energy." Robar nods earnestly, soaking up your guidance like parched earth.
The boy has grown up on tales of your crusading valor, regarding you as the living embodiment of the heroes he's heard about. Yet, as you watch him, a sense of apprehension tugs at you. He idolizes the concept of war, not yet understanding its grim reality. You silently vow to shield him from those horrors for as long as you can, hoping he never has to endure the harrowing experiences that have scarred you.
After spending some time observing the young squires and your half-brother, you find yourself drawn to the solemn quietude of the family crypt, a resting place for generations of Blackthorns.
"You've been missed, Mother," you murmur as you stand before Lady Agatha's grave. Her memory, full of kindness and warmth, lingers strongly despite her early departure from this world due to frail health. She was a beacon of kindness and gentleness in the keep, her passing leaving a void no one could fill.
Your gaze then shifts to the most recent addition to the crypt - the tomb of Edric Blackthorn, your father. Early memories flood back: the image of a man you once looked up to with love and admiration, a caring husband to your ailing mother, and a father proud of his only son. You recall the warmth in his eyes as he watched you train, the encouragement in his voice spurring you on.
Yet, these fond recollections are shadowed by the actions that later drove you away. His swift remarriage to Mirena, your secret affection and childhood friend, a girl decades younger than him, less than a year after your mother's passing, stirs a tempest of conflicted emotions within you. The love you once felt for your father wrestles with resentment for the man who seemingly replaced you and your mother with his new family.
For a decade, you distanced yourself, ignoring his attempts to reach out, his letters left unanswered. Now, before his grave, a tumult of emotions churns within you—regret, sorrow, anger, resentment, jealousy—all intertwined, making it hard to decipher exactly what you feel towards the man lying beneath the cold stone.
You struggle to reconcile the feelings for the father you loved with the actions of the man who so deeply hurt you. The silence of the crypt offers no answers, only a space for your reflections and the weight of unresolved feelings.

>A) Resolving to leave the past behind, you quietly forgive your father, feeling a burden lifting from your shoulders.
>B) Despite your efforts, the sting of your father marrying Mirena, your secret love, remains a wound too deep to heal.
>C) A pang of guilt washes over you, regretting your absence in your father's last years, wondering if things could have been different.
>D) Tears unexpectedly stream down your cheeks, the facade of the battle-hardened crusader melting away to reveal the vulnerable boy who left a decade ago.

>>5874165
>>A) Resolving to leave the past behind, you quietly forgive your father, feeling a burden lifting from your shoulders.

>>5874165
>>C) A pang of guilt washes over you, regretting your absence in your father's last years, wondering if things could have been different.

Merry Christmas!

>>5872879
I think is probably best if we cut down the bandits. We will need to prepare a bit the men and get a look around for find their hole.
I wouldn't be surprised if the pagans of the Leopard Woman payed the bandits to deliver the statue to our family castle, the cannibals pagans are far away from here after all. Determinate fools, even when on their last legs. Our letters should deliver a counter blow for put them down for quite a while if not forever.
Eitherway bandits in general slow work, kill and terrorize. So they have to go first of the problems, because they make the situation worse even for the other problems.

>>5874165
>D) Tears unexpectedly stream down your cheeks, the facade of the battle-hardened crusader melting away to reveal the vulnerable boy who left a decade ago.

>>5874169
We upgrade our armour then start bandit extermination

>>5874165
>E.) Rage envelopes you like the darkness of a starry night. You are glad the bastard is dead, for he was no father, man, or king to you.

>>5874165
>A) Resolving to leave the past behind, you quietly forgive your father, feeling a burden lifting from your shoulders.

>>5874165
>>B) Despite your efforts, the sting of your father marrying Mirena, your secret love, remains a wound too deep to heal.

>>5874165
>>B) Despite your efforts, the sting of your father marrying Mirena, your secret love, remains a wound too deep to heal.

>>5874165

>C) A pang of guilt washes over you, regretting your absence in your father's last years, wondering if things could have been different.

We could have done more, of course

>>5874165
Merry Christmas!

>>5874165
>D) Tears unexpectedly stream down your cheeks, the facade of the battle-hardened crusader melting away to reveal the vulnerable boy who left a decade ago.

>>5874174
Of course

File: 1331773552124.png (570 KB, 1185x900)

570 KB PNG

>>5874167
>>5874168
>>5874179
>>5874187
>>5874189
>>5874193
>>5874221
>103 / 1 / 38 / 1

This is a tough vote, but what's done is done. We have to move forward from here, & holding on to hate for him will lend itself to resenting our half-siblings as well. Thus:
>A
As for the bandits, we may need to recruit crusaders who are without land and titles or mobilize our levy/fyrd of peasants while leading from the front.

>>5874165
>A) Resolving to leave the past behind, you quietly forgive your father, feeling a burden lifting from your shoulders.

>>5874165
>>>B) Despite your efforts, the sting of your father marrying Mirena, your secret love, remains a wound too deep to heal.

>>5874165
>A) Resolving to leave the past behind, you quietly forgive your father, feeling a burden lifting from your shoulders.

>>5874167
>>5874168
>>5874169
>>5874173
>>5874174
>>5874176
>>5874179
>>5874187
>>5874189
>>5874193
>>5874206
>>5874221
>>5874224
>>5874379
>>5874432
>>5874498
>>5874581
>>5874628
Resolving to leave the past behind, you quietly forgive your father, feeling a burden lifting from your shoulders. What's done is done. Dwelling in the past serves only to taint the present. You have to move forward from here, and clinging to bitterness will only perpetuate the cycle of resentment, poisoning not just your own heart but also your relationship with your half-siblings.
"I thought I might find you here," a familiar voice breaks the quietude. Mirena stands poised and dignified, every inch the Lady of Blackthorn Keep. Her presence is regal and composed, embodying the grace and dignity of her station. Her eyes, however, betray a shared sadness as they rest on your father's tomb. "He loved you, you know. Every day of your absence was a day he hoped for your return."
"I know," you reply softly, the admission bittersweet. "That's what made it all the more painful." The pain of your loving father marrying your childhood friend and unspoken love, seemingly replacing both you and your mother with his new family, was a wound that cut deep. You turn to Mirena with a question that's haunted you for years, "Did he ever realize how I felt about you?"
Mirena's response is contemplative, a touch of sadness in her voice. "He might have dismissed it as youthful infatuation, something you'd outgrow. You were the young, unwed heir, destined for a politically advantageous marriage to a highborn girl, not for a mere Castellan's daughter like me." She looks away momentarily, her eyes clouded with reflection. "And it was my father who suggested the match, not him. To your father, marrying the castellan's daughter likely seemed a suitable arrangement for a widower lord."
She adds a thoughtful note, "I believe, in his way, he was trying to safeguard your future as well. By marrying someone like me, who grew up alongside you, someone who knew and cared for you, your father probably hoped to prevent any future familial strife over your rightful inheritance, perhaps he saw it as a way to secure the keep and ensure you wouldn't face opposition from an ambitious stepmother. He knew I would never contest your birthright."
"Yet, in trying to secure my birthright, he pushed me away from it, drove me to abandon everything I knew," you respond, the bitterness in your voice hard to mask. "He misread what I needed and wanted completely."
Mirena nods sympathetically, "Parents often misjudge what's best for their children. My father made me Lady of the Keep believing it was in my best interest, and your father married me thinking he was securing his eldest son's birthright. Neither realized the hurt they were inflicting."

"Each of us, ensnared by our own perceptions, failed to see the whole picture," you acknowledge. "I thought you betrayed me. You thought I abandoned you. And we both ended up hurt, lost in a maze of misunderstandings."
Mirena looks at you with a somber yet hopeful expression. "We were both so young, perhaps still are in many ways." She gently nudges you, "Let's leave the shadows of our past here in the crypt." Following her lead, you step away from the darkness of the crypt, your heart slightly lighter, moving towards a future that, while uncertain, feels a bit more hopeful.
You walk alongside Mirena through familiar corridors, paths that hold echoes of your shared childhood laughter and games.
Mirena leads you to the armory, revealing a magnificent suit of armor. "Your father had this made for you," she explains, her voice laced with a note of melancholy, "He meant for this to shield you on the crusades. But it lay here waiting, gathering dust, since you never came to claim it."
You examine the finely crafted armor, realizing the care that went into its creation. "This must have cost a fortune," you remark.
"It did," Mirena responds, her sigh heavy with unspoken words. "He loved you deeply and regretted the distance between you. He wanted to support you, even from afar." Her words paint a picture of a father's enduring love, tinged with regret over the gulf that had formed between you.
The realization that your father's final gift might have spared you the recent wounds brings a rueful smile to your face. "This would have served well last night," you muse, lightly touching the fresh wounds on your chest, imagining the difference this armor could have made.
"If I'd known about your plans, I would've given it to you sooner," Mirena responds, her tone mixed with the carefree spirit of the girl you once knew and the maturity she now possesses. "Next time, perhaps you'll inform me."
"I didn't want to worry you, or worse, have you insist on joining me," you quip back with a smile, sparking a moment of nostalgia.
Mirena smiles back, though it's tinged with sadness. "I might have, once," she admits. "I remember feeling invincible among our childhood band of adventurers. But reality set in as we grew older. I realized I could never match you or the other boys in strength. My battlefield became the childbed, not the warrior's field."
"You've accepted your role with grace," you reply, acknowledging her strength and the expectations she's had to shoulder.

"The harsh truth that I couldn't match your strength or that of the other boys was a painful realization," Mirena confides, her voice tinged with a deep-seated resignation. "That's why I've been so intent on guiding Lena early in her life. I wanted her to be aware of her future responsibilities as a noblewoman, to avoid the disappointment I faced, and not get lost in dreams that can't be."
"You're shaping her into a fine young lady," you acknowledge, thinking of your younger sister's grace and poise, clearly the result of her mother's careful upbringing. Lena's future seems secure and promising, likely to draw the eyes of many noble suitors seeking her hand in a few years.
"Tessa, though, is proving to be a challenge," Mirena continues, her voice laced with a mix of exasperation and affection. "She's fiercely independent, always amongst the boys, fighting, exploring, more inclined to muddy her dresses in the castle grounds than sit for needlework."
"She reminds me of a certain young girl I once knew," you quip, a chuckle escaping as you recall a young, spirited Mirena. The fire that once burned in her seems to live on in Tessa. While her dark locks might mirror your father's, her willful nature is undoubtedly inherited from her mother.
"Indeed, she does," Mirena admits, her voice a mix of exasperation and secret pride for her rebellious daughter. "But I worry for her," she continues. "Her friendship with boys of all ranks might be innocent now, but what of the future? Should she fall for a commoner, it could lead to heartbreak. A girl of her status is expected to marry within her class. As her mother, I should steer her away from her lowborn friends, even if it means she resents me for it. I want to shield her from the kind of heartbreak we've endured."

>A) You're right; it's better to guide her gently away from such fantasies and friendships now, to spare her the heartbreaks we suffered.
>B) Perhaps we should let her enjoy her childhood a bit longer; not all stories are shadowed by our own, hers could unfold differently.

>>5874738

>B) Perhaps we should let her enjoy her childhood a bit longer; not all stories are shadowed by our own, hers could unfold differently.

Maybe she can be our assassin

>>5874738
>>A) You're right; it's better to guide her gently away from such fantasies and friendships now, to spare her the heartbreaks we suffered.

>>5874738
>B) Perhaps we should let her enjoy her childhood a bit longer; not all stories are shadowed by our own, hers could unfold differently.

>>5874738
>>5874738

>B) Perhaps we should let her enjoy her childhood a bit longer; not all stories are shadowed by our own, hers could unfold differently.

>A
Anything otherwise would be a recipe for disaster, unbecoming of all involved, especially the assassin idea.

>>5874738
>>A) You're right; it's better to guide her gently away from such fantasies and friendships now, to spare her the heartbreaks we suffered.
A blade in the shadow is not necesseraly the only possible job if we were to go for it.

>>5874738
>C) Marry her yourself. You find what was once lost in the linage of your father.

>>5875118
kek

>>5874738
>A) You're right; it's better to guide her gently away from such fantasies and friendships now, to spare her the heartbreaks we suffered.

What could go wrong?

>>5874738
>>A) You're right; it's better to guide her gently away from such fantasies and friendships now, to spare her the heartbreaks we suffered.

>>5874738
>B) Perhaps we should let her enjoy her childhood a bit longer; not all stories are shadowed by our own, hers could unfold differently.

>>5874738
>B) Perhaps we should let her enjoy her childhood a bit longer; not all stories are shadowed by our own, hers could unfold differently.
>>5875118
She's five, Jim.

>>5874738
>>A) You're right; it's better to guide her gently away from such fantasies and friendships now, to spare her the heartbreaks we suffered.

>>5874738
>>B) Perhaps we should let her enjoy her childhood a bit longer; not all stories are shadowed by our own, hers could unfold differently.

>>5874738
>>A) You're right; it's better to guide her gently away from such fantasies and friendships now, to spare her the heartbreaks we suffered.

>>5874738
>B) Perhaps we should let her enjoy her childhood a bit longer; not all stories are shadowed by our own, hers could unfold differently.

>>5875468
>KAQmzFap
>Fap
Nice

>>5874738
>>B) Perhaps we should let her enjoy her childhood a bit longer; not all stories are shadowed by our own, hers could unfold differently.

>>5874746
>>5874766
>>5874770
>>5874782
>>5874842
>>5875100
>>5875118
>>5875135
>>5875245
>>5875248
>>5875277
>>5875438
>>5875468
>>5875478
>>5875507
>>5875536
>>5875537
>>5875570
"I think a part of me agrees that it's better to guide her gently away from such fantasies and friendships now, to spare her the heartbreaks we suffered," you confess, voice soft with contemplation. "But then, there's this hopeful side that feels that perhaps we should let her enjoy her childhood a bit longer; not all stories are shadowed by our own, hers could unfold differently."
Mirena's smile is tinged with past regrets and a glimmer of hope for what lies ahead. "You're right," she concedes. "I shouldn't hasten your sister away from her dreams just because mine ended in grief. Maybe she will carve out a brighter story for herself, one that reaches the dreams I never could."
As you meet Mirena's gaze, your resolve strengthens. "I promise to watch over all your children, my half-siblings. They will not have to confront the shadows by themselves. As their eldest brother and lord, I vow to secure their safety and well-being. It's my duty to safeguard this place they call home."
"This is your home as well, Caden," Mirena responds gently, her voice rich with emotion and unsaid thoughts, her eyes meeting yours with an earnest intensity. "This will always be your home. Your return... it means more to me than you can imagine."
"And I find comfort in being back home," you admit, a surge of emotions welling up inside you, feeling the weight and warmth of her words.
Despite the painful past and the shadows that linger, Blackthorn Keep remains your home. You are determined to stand as its protector, ensuring a safer, brighter future for all within its ancient walls.
With this renewed sense of responsibility, you approach Sir Corwin, intent on understanding the immediate threats to your domain. "Corwin, what can you tell me about these brigands plaguing our lands?"
Corwin's face darkens as he begins to recount the troubling situation. "The land is plagued by the Bastard Brotherhood, led by a giant of a man known as Grendar the Grim. They may not be numerous, but their brutality knows no bounds. Among them are notorious figures like Brendan Blacktooth, The Crow Twins, The Vulture Knight, and the Whisperer, each infamous for their own cruel deeds."
He continues with a grimace, "They've ravaged our countryside, attacking the vulnerable, looting merchant caravans, and subjecting women to unimaginable atrocities. Highborn ladies traveling on carriages have been abducted, held for ransom for months, and then returned violated to their fathers or husbands, often carrying in their bellies the unwanted bastards of their captors. Peasant girls are often not so fortunate to return at all."

>A) You lead a surprise assault with your best men.
>B) You plan a direct assault on their hideout.
>C) You offer bounties for their capture.
>D) You strengthen your defenses, training the villagers.

>>5875589
>E) Join in their revelry and commission them as Knights of the Realm, dubbed the "Black Hound Knights".

>>5875589
>>A) You lead a surprise assault with your best men.

>>5875589
>>A) You lead a surprise assault with your best men.

>>5875589
>>A) You lead a surprise assault with your best men.

>F) You combat them with a multi-faceted approach; a bounty is offered for bringing the head of any of those infamous among the brigands, with a reward of elevation to the status of Gentry/Squireen/Esquire/Squiredom. The peasants are trained as a Levy/Fyrd, with the head man of every household being required to own a spear, shield, & helmet. A system of alarm bells will be set in every village of your land to organize a response to any attacks. You will personally lead your men-at-arms against the brigands as soon as their hideout can be located.

>>5875746

Supporting, a multipronged counterinsurgency policy seems like a good way to efficiently stamp them out.

Some of our commoners are probably collaborators who will spill what they know for clemency, etc etc

>>5875589
>A) You lead a surprise assault with your best men.

>>5875589
>B) You plan a direct assault on their hideout.
Exterminate

>>5875589
>D) You strengthen your defenses, training the villagers.

>>5875589
>>A) You lead a surprise assault with your best men.

>>5875589
>>D) You strengthen your defenses, training the villagers.

>>5875589
If we have money
>C) You offer bounties for their capture.
If we don't
>B) You plan a direct assault on their hideout.

>>5875589
>E) Join in their revelry and commission them as Knights of the Realm, dubbed the "Black Hound Knights".

>>5875589

>A) You lead a surprise assault with your best men.

>>5875746
+1

>>5875595
>>5875613
>>5875614
>>5875658
>>5875746
>>5875749
>>5875855
>>5876021
>>5876022
>>5876116
>>5876155
>>5876219
>>5876405
>>5876522
>>5876640
With the authority of the Lord of Blackthorn Keep, you declare, "I shall lead a contingent of our best men to ambush the Bastard Brotherhood at their known haunts, striking them where they least expect."
Sir Corwin, ever the voice of caution, raises his concern, "Might it be too hasty to engage so soon, my lord? Your recent wounds are barely healed, and the wear of the crusades lingers on you."
"The wounds I bear now are but scratches compared to what I've endured," you reply firmly. "Too long have I been absent. It's time the people felt the presence of their lord again and know the prodigal son has returned to claim his birthright and take his father's place."
You've not forgotten the lay of the land, the hidden paths and secrets of your father's lands. Using your knowledge, you start mapping out potential ambush sites based on the brigands' recent activities.
"Their evasion skills are formidable; they strike quickly and retreat into the shadows," you analyze. "They've overwhelmed merchant caravans and noble escorts with surprise and cruelty, but those were men unprepared for the brutality of battle."
Corwin chimes in, a note of caution in his voice, "Our guards, though loyal, are mostly unseasoned as well. They lack the battle-hardiness of true warriors."
"I understand," you respond, contemplating the reality of your forces. "I will lead them, shape them in the heat of battle. They need to face real threats to grow into the defenders Blackthorn Keep requires. Facing these brigands will be their trial by fire."
Determined to guide your men, to transform the green lads into seasoned soldiers, you start to prepare for the surprise assault. It's not just about defeating the bandits; it's about forging a stronger, more resilient Blackthorn Keep.
However, the Bastard Brotherhood are known for their cunning and ruthlessness, and overcoming them will require more than just valor; it will demand careful planning and a deep understanding of both your allies' strengths and your enemies' weaknesses.

>A) You devise a ruse involving a carriage, allegedly transporting the lord's widow away from Blackthorn Keep, exiled by her stepson, passing through a known brigand ambush spot, while secretly it's filled with you and your well-armed soldiers.
>B) You plan to discreetly shadow a routine merchant caravan on horseback, ready to intervene swiftly once the brigands reveal themselves, turning their ambush into your own.
>C) You strategically position archers with longbows and send a decoy scout into the forest, pretending to carry valuable goods, his mission to draw out the bandits and lead them straight into your ambush.
>D) You disguise yourself as a vulnerable holy man recently returned from the crusades, a seemingly easy mark, to bait the brigands into attacking and revealing themselves for your counter-ambush.

>>5877005
>B) You plan to discreetly shadow a routine merchant caravan on horseback, ready to intervene swiftly once the brigands reveal themselves, turning their ambush into your own.

>>5877005
>A) You devise a ruse involving a carriage, allegedly transporting the lord's widow away from Blackthorn Keep, exiled by her stepson, passing through a known brigand ambush spot, while secretly it's filled with you and your well-armed soldiers.

>>5877005

>A) You devise a ruse involving a carriage, allegedly transporting the lord's widow away from Blackthorn Keep, exiled by her stepson, passing through a known brigand ambush spot, while secretly it's filled with you and your well-armed soldiers.

But we should also have a couple scouts/bowman tailing the carriage for ranged support, I don’t see why we can’t do both to better ensure victory

>>5877005
>>A) You devise a ruse involving a carriage, allegedly transporting the lord's widow away from Blackthorn Keep, exiled by her stepson, passing through a known brigand ambush spot, while secretly it's filled with you and your well-armed soldiers

>>5877005

>C) You strategically position archers with longbows and send a decoy scout into the forest, pretending to carry valuable goods, his mission to draw out the bandits and lead them straight into your ambush.

Its raining arrows.

>>5877005
>A) You devise a ruse involving a carriage, allegedly transporting the lord's widow away from Blackthorn Keep, exiled by her stepson, passing through a known brigand ambush spot, while secretly it's filled with you and your well-armed soldiers.

>A)
Add a bell to the wagon to be rung when we are ambushed, enabling mounted archers to rush to our aid.

>>5877005
>>A) You devise a ruse involving a carriage, allegedly transporting the lord's widow away from Blackthorn Keep, exiled by her stepson, passing through a known brigand ambush spot, while secretly it's filled with you and your well-armed soldiers.

>>5877019
>>5877045
>>5877139
>>5877149
>>5877174
>>5877219
>>5877220
"You see here?" You tap a spot on the map spread before you, your knowledge of the terrain guiding your intuition. These lands are no longer simply a legacy from your father—they are your responsibility now. "We'll spread rumors that the lord's widow is departing from the keep, exiled by her stepson."
"Is she leaving?" Corwin queries, momentarily confused.
"No, Mirena's place is here, and it shall remain so," you clarify firmly. "But let the whispers suggest otherwise. The Bastard Brotherhood might see it as a chance to snatch another highborn lady."
Understanding dawns on Corwin's face as he grasps the deceit. "So Mirena will stay safely here, while we lay a trap for the bandits?"
"Exactly," you confirm with a nod. "The carriage will instead carry me and our best soldiers, all armed to the teeth. When the brigands halt the carriage, expecting a frightened noblewoman, they'll be met with a lethal surprise."
Corwin's expression reflects his admiration. "An ingenious plan, my lord."
"War has a way of sharpening one's cunning," you respond with a hint of dry humor, reflecting on your years of battle experience. "Also, ensure we have scouts and archers shadowing us discreetly. Once we engage the brigands, they can provide ranged support, preventing any from slipping away."
"I'll see to it immediately," Corwin replies, his tone respectful and ready, a knight ever faithful to his lord. "The carriage will be ready, and the men will be prepared for the ambush."
Before embarking on your mission, you seek out Mirena. She has been many things to you - a stepmother, a friend, a love never fulfilled. "I am setting out to confront the brigands who have tormented our lands in my absence," you inform her. "This time, I thought you should know."
"You're still healing," Mirena's concern is evident in her tone as she recalls the extent of your injuries. "You were bleeding out when Corwin brought you back. Those wounds could reopen in the heat of battle."
"I'll be donning the armor father had made for me," you assure her, the resolve in your voice unwavering. "I won't be so reckless as to fall in battle, not now." Your days of indifference to danger are behind you; you have a purpose, a home to defend, and a future to build. "I will return to you, I promise."
As Mirena assists you with the armor, her touch gentle against your skin, the drive to protect her, to be there for her and your home, intensifies. You won't leave her again. The responsibilities your father left behind are now yours to shoulder.
"I will pray for your safe return," Mirena murmurs softly, her hand lingering for a moment longer than necessary. With a nod, you leave the chamber, feeling her silent prayer accompanying you.
Outside, Corwin has the carriage and the men ready, as planned. "Add a bell to the carriage, to signal the archers when we're engaged," you instruct, ensuring no detail is overlooked this time.

>Roll D100

Rolled 38 (1d100)

>>5877264
To success, and a safe return

Rolled 74 (1d100)

For Bandits: Hanging
For Knights: Glory

Rolled 23 (1d100)

>>5877264
Death to the bastards !

Rolled 86 (1d100)

>>5877264

Rolled 38 (1d100)

>>5877264
Blood and steel!

Rolled 75 (1d100)

>>5877264

>>5877243
>>5877318
>>5877338
>>5877376
>>5877578
>>5877590
>>5877591
The carriage makes its way through the thickening shadows of the forest. Within, you and your best soldiers wait in silence, weapons at the ready. A contingent of mounted archers shadows your path, unseen but vigilant.
As twilight blankets the forest, the carriage approaches a known ambush point. Suddenly, a harsh command slices through the stillness, and the carriage grinds to a halt. A smirk plays on your lips; the brigands have taken the bait.
You ring the bell, its clear tone cutting through the silent forest, signaling the hidden archers. As the first brigand, hooded and armed, opens the carriage door, he's met with the gleaming steel of your sword rather than the frightened noblewoman he expected.
The ambushers become the ambushed. Your men spring into action, each strike precise and lethal. The brigands, caught off guard, scramble to fight back, but they're no match for the fury and valor of your soldiers.
From the trees, arrows fly, each one finding its mark among the brigands trying to escape or regroup. You step out of the carriage, leading the charge, your father's armor deflecting blows that come your way. The brigands' cries mix with the clash of steel and the whistling of arrows, creating a chaotic symphony of battle.
The first to face you is Brendan Blacktooth, a savage northerner fond of flaying his victims, his cruel smile fading as he realizes his mistake. With swift justice, you bring him down, his namesake teeth scattering to the forest floor.
Next, The Crow Twins emerge from the shadows, their coordination notorious, their movements synchronized. But you've faced worse odds and grimmer foes. With a combination of deft swordplay and brute force, you separate them forever, ending their reign of terror.
The Vulture Knight, cloaked in forest-green armor, charges at you next, his presence imposing. But your resolve is ironclad. With strategic blows, you find the chinks in his armor, bringing the mad knight to his knees before delivering the final blow.
Lastly, the Whisperer tries to slink away, his reputation for escaping tight situations well earned. But today, there is no escape. Your archers flush him out, and with a relentless pursuit, you corner him. He falls, his whispers forever silenced.
As the dust settles and the sounds of battle fade, you stand victorious. The brigands, including their most notorious members, lie dead or wounded. Your men, bolstered by the victory, rally around you, their cheers resounding through the forest.
You stand amidst the carnage, victorious. The Bastard Brotherhood has been defeated. The prodigal son has not only returned; he has asserted his claim as the true lord of Blackthorn Keep, a protector not to be trifled with.
Today, you have sent a clear message: Blackthorn Keep stands strong, and its lord stands stronger.

As the battle subsides and you survey the aftermath, your eyes catch a familiar form among the fallen brigands. Approaching, you recognize the insignia of a Crusader on his tattered clothing, a ghost from your own past.
You kneel beside him, noting his labored breathing and the haunted look in his eyes. "You were a Crusader," you start, your voice a mixture of surprise and curiosity.
"Aye," he coughs, blood staining his lips. "I fought in the frigid north, against the worshippers of the Heart Trees."
His voice is weak, but it carries the weight of a story untold. "I saw too much, endured too much. When we returned, there was nothing for me...no glory, no peace. My birthright was stolen by my elder brother and his whore wife. I was a broken man, wandering, until desperation drove me here. Desertion wasn't a choice; it was survival."
You listen, his tale echoing the darker corners of your own journey. The disillusionment, the sense of abandonment after the Crusades, is a story you know all too well.
"Why join these men?" you ask, gesturing to the fallen brigands around him.
He gives a bitter laugh. "What is a man to do when the world he fought for turns its back on him? I needed to survive, and they... they offered a way. Not honorable, not right, but it was something."
You see in him a mirror of what you could have become, had you not found your way back to Blackthorn Keep. The realization softens your gaze.

>A) You assure him he will be given a proper burial, acknowledging the fellow Crusader he once was, a small gesture of respect for a man who strayed from his path.
>B) You express your disdain for his choices, condemning the path he took from a respected Crusader to a loathed brigand, a fall from grace and honor.
>C) You exhale deeply, a mix of sorrow and relief coloring your thoughts, regretting the tragic turn of his life, yet grateful for the steadiness and refuge Mirena and Blackthorn Keep have provided you.
>D) You look around at the other fallen bandits, wondering how many shared a similar fate, once valiant Crusaders now reduced to desperate outlaws, their dreams of glory replaced by a grim reality.

>>5877880

>D) You look around at the other fallen bandits, wondering how many shared a similar fate, once valiant Crusaders now reduced to desperate outlaws, their dreams of glory replaced by a grim reality.

Wasted potential, something we can both remedy(though realistically only to some degree) and benefit from by providing another way to set decent men to work.

>>5877880
>>B) You express your disdain for his choices, condemning the path he took from a respected Crusader to a loathed brigand, a fall from grace and honor.

>>5877880
Nice scene, QM. How did rolls affect outcomes for this?
>A)
Any man who fought in the crusades has earned a proper burial.

>>5877880

>A) You assure him he will be given a proper burial, acknowledging the fellow Crusader he once was, a small gesture of respect for a man who strayed from his path.

This seems fair

>>5877880
>E) You will give them all a proper burial.

>>5877880
>>D) You look around at the other fallen bandits, wondering how many shared a similar fate, once valiant Crusaders now reduced to desperate outlaws, their dreams of glory replaced by a grim reality.
Excellent the Bastard Brotherhood has been defeated, the people of our lands will be more safer. Interrogate the wounded bandits, learn where is their hideout and what friends they have if any. There is no doubt some loot accumulated and people to free, and there might be more scum to put down.
That done, the ones more healthy can be publically executed unless our men believe that we need to first further interrogate them. Anything else bring it back to the keep, this equipment and weapons can be put to better use in other hands. To see us and our soldiers return back victorious and with the defeated foe too, should raise morale.

>>5877943
I was this post, keeping my vote the same, but I also want to incorporate the additional things added by:
>>5878303

>>5877880
>C) You exhale deeply, a mix of sorrow and relief coloring your thoughts, regretting the tragic turn of his life, yet grateful for the steadiness and refuge Mirena and Blackthorn Keep have provided you.

>>5877880
>D) You look around at the other fallen bandits, wondering how many shared a similar fate, once valiant Crusaders now reduced to desperate outlaws, their dreams of glory replaced by a grim reality.

>>5877910
>>5877912
>>5877943
>>5877958
>>5877966
>>5878303
>>5878395
>>5878552
>>5878568
You look around at the other fallen bandits, wondering how many shared a similar fate, once valiant Crusaders now reduced to desperate outlaws, their dreams of glory replaced by a grim reality.
Their story is all too common. A young lad from the village, his head filled with heroic tales, enlists in the Crusades, envisioning a life of honor and glory. He leaves with blessings and bright eyes, eager to prove his worth, perhaps to earn the admiration of a secret love or the pride of his father.
But the reality of war is crueler than any song. Far from home, he confronts not only the enemy but also hunger, disease, and isolation. The once-foreign lands become a graveyard for his comrades, their dreams dying with them. The locals view him as an invader, a stranger in a strange land, fighting a war he barely comprehends.
The battlefield scars him, each day eroding the boy he was, until he's left a broken man. When the war ends, he returns, but what he comes back to is not the home he left. He finds his place usurped, his father dead, his birthright stolen by his brothers, the girl he loved happily married with children to another man, and his future a bleak, unrecognizable path.
With nowhere to turn, he picks up his sword once more, not in the name of honor, but for survival, becoming one of the very brigands he might have once sworn to defeat.
You feel a kinship with this broken man, understanding that under different circumstances, his story could have been yours. But you were fortunate to have something to return to.
Your contemplation is interrupted by Sir Corwin's report. "Grendar the Grim is not among the slain, my lord. He likely remains at their hideout."
You stand amidst the quiet of the forest, considering your next move. Do you return to Blackthorn Keep, regroup and strengthen your defenses, or do you press on, pursuing the leader of the Bastard Brotherhood to ensure he can no longer threaten your people?

>A) You decide to return to Blackthorn Keep, satisfied with the day's victory and knowing that your actions have reaffirmed your presence and authority as the rightful lord.
>B) You choose to interrogate the wounded bandits, extracting information about their hideout, and resolve to lead a targeted mission to hunt down and eliminate Grendar the Grim.

>>5877943
I assumed that rolls of 74, 86, and 75 would be sufficient for success. I'm still new to this medium and prefer to keep things straightforward.

>>5878776

>B) You choose to interrogate the wounded bandits, extracting information about their hideout, and resolve to lead a targeted mission to hunt down and eliminate Grendar the Grim

We’ll probably never have a better chance to take him down than right now

>>5878776
>B) You choose to interrogate the wounded bandits, extracting information about their hideout, and resolve to lead a targeted mission to hunt down and eliminate Grendar the Grim.

>>5878776
>>B) You choose to interrogate the wounded bandits, extracting information about their hideout, and resolve to lead a targeted mission to hunt down and eliminate Grendar the Grim.

You steel your resolve and press onwards. The sooner you finish this grim task, the sooner you return home. You have a feeling a grim suprise awaits you at their hideout.

>>5878776
>>B) You choose to interrogate the wounded bandits, extracting information about their hideout, and resolve to lead a targeted mission to hunt down and eliminate Grendar the Grim.

>>5878776
>B) You choose to interrogate the wounded bandits, extracting information about their hideout, and resolve to lead a targeted mission to hunt down and eliminate Grendar the Grim.

>>5878776
>B) You choose to interrogate the wounded bandits, extracting information about their hideout, and resolve to lead a targeted mission to hunt down and eliminate Grendar the Grim.

+1 for the consensus, pity or no, mercy is not something they deserve.

>>5878790
>>5878913
>>5878927
>>5878998
>>5879092
>>5879133
>>5879179
You choose to interrogate the wounded bandits, determined to extract information about their hideout, and hunt down and eliminate Grendar the Grim. "Where's Grendar hiding?" you demand, your voice cold.
One of the brigands, driven by fear for his life, hastily divulges, "East of here, in the woods." Brigands' loyalty is thin, especially when facing death.
"Let's move." You steel your resolve and press onwards. The sooner you finish this grim task, the sooner you return home. You have a feeling a grim surprise awaits you at their hideout.
The night deepens as you lead your men towards the hideout. Like spectral warriors, you ride through the fog and darkness, unseen and silent.
Arriving at the hideout, you find only a few brigands, left to guard their ill-gotten gains and captives. You signal your men to quietly subdue or dispatch them.
Stealthily navigating the hideout, you come across an opulent tent, more befitting a lord's luxuries than a brigand's shelter. Grendar's voice booms from within, vulgar and arrogant, mistaking you for one of his men. "Blacktooth, brought the lord's widow? Strip her and bring her to me. I'll show her pleasures, make her moan and scream my name, have her cry out for more like her old feeble husband never could."
"Brendan Blacktooth is dead," you interrupt coldly, your sword in hand. "And Lady Blackthorn is beyond your vile reach. You will never defile her."
Grendar emerges, massive and furious, taken aback by your presence. A towering figure, he stands over seven feet tall, around forty years old, muscular with copper skin. His eyes, ablaze with surprise and anger, lock onto yours. "So, the old lord's son has returned from the crusades," he sneers. "Your head will be a prized addition to my trophies."
"You are welcome to try," you retort calmly. Your men have encircled the camp, ensuring no escape for the brigands. Your gaze fixates on Grendar, aware that his fall will mark the end of the Bastard Brotherhood's reign.

>Roll D100

Rolled 74 (1d100)

>>5879225
He's so smug.

Rolled 22 (1d100)

>>5879225

Let’s gut this fucker and move on

Rolled 38 (1d100)

>>5879225

Rolled 8 (1d100)

>>5879225
"Instead your body will be no trophy. I will leave you bleeding in front of all left miserable and weak. Your dark tyranny ends here."

Rolled 47 (1d100)

>>5879225

Rolled 35 (1d100)

Cut his achilles, then poke him to death while he's hobbled. Almost too kind of a fate.
Captcha: YYYAMS

>>5879226
>>5879228
>>5879238
>>5879246
>>5879326
>>5879329
Don't be hasty. Wait for your opponent, conserve your energy. You adopt a stance of patient readiness, poised to respond to Grendar's first move. The man is a behemoth, towering over seven feet tall, with muscles like those of legendary ogres. His strength is immense, but you know the weakness of giants - they tire swiftly. You can't overpower him, but endurance is on your side. "Come," you beckon with icy calm.
Grendar, however, is no mere brute. He has led the brutal Bastard Brotherhood for years, surviving not just battles but the treachery of his own men. He approaches with calculated slashes, not the wild swings of a mindless beast.
You deflect his attacks, each parry a silent taunt, baiting him into a fatal error. It's a deadly dance, pitting your agility against his raw power. You've faced darker horrors during the Crusades, enemies far more daunting than Grendar.
Grendar, enraged, roars "Die!" as he unleashes a ferocious blow. It's a feint, and you've anticipated it. The heavy sword grazes your side, the blow softened by your armor. You retaliate with a fierce agility, striking Grendar with a force he's never encountered.
The fight is a clash of two seasoned warriors: Grendar, mighty and brutal; you, nimble and skilled. It evolves into a test of resilience and endurance.
As the battle rages, Grendar's speed diminishes, exhaustion setting in. You, relentless and calculating, exploit his weakening stance. A deep cut to his leg sends him hobbling, his scream of pain echoing through the forest.
"I thought you were going to make the lord's widow scream?" you taunt him coldly, as he writhes in agony and frustration. Fear joins his pain.
In a final, desperate attempt, Grendar swings wildly. You sidestep with ease, then thrust your crusader's blade into his heart with the same swift motion. Grendar the Grim meets his end, his last moments marked by terror and pain.
Victory comes at a cost. You're wounded, your body a canvas of fresh pain layered over old scars. But triumph is yours – Grendar the Grim lies dead, his Bastard Brotherhood shattered, and Blackthorn Keep's safety restored. That is what truly matters.
Pushing through the pain, you enter Grendar's lavish tent, intent on assessing his stolen treasures. Inside, you find two young peasant girls, barely fourteen, the innocence in their eyes shadowed by the unspeakable horrors they endured in captivity.
The redhead, her face sprinkled with freckles, collapses at your feet, sobbing uncontrollably. Her companion, a brunette with cropped hair, watches you more warily, her eyes filled with suspicion.

>A) "You're safe now, no one will harm you again," you gently assure the girls.
>B) "What you've endured is not your fault, and you bear no blame," you comfort them.
>C) "I'm sorry I wasn't here to protect you," you apologize for your absence.
>D) "The men who hurt you are dead, or will soon be hanged for their crimes," you assure them.

>>5880287
>>D) "The men who hurt you are dead, or will soon be hanged for their crimes," you assure them.

>>5880287

>B) "What you've endured is not your fault, and you bear no blame," you comfort them.

>>5880287
>E) "You are my slaves now and you will do even more for me," you command the girls.

>A+B+D

>>5880287
>>D) "The men who hurt you are dead, or will soon be hanged for their crimes," you assure them.
Cut a piece of the tent and ensure they are covered, they are going to be given food and shelter at the keep. Then they will return to their families.
Tie Grendar body to a horse and let everyone see just how much we are move this filth. Order Sir Corwin and the guards to loot anything useful, then burn anything else same for the corpses. The bandits that are alive will receive execution.

>>5880486
*above

>>5880287
>F) "It's over." you say, assuring them but your instincts and experience telling you not to lower your gaurd.

>>5880287
>C) "I'm sorry I wasn't here to protect you," you apologize for your absence.

>>5880287
>E) "You are my slaves now and you will do even more for me," you command the girls.

>>5880287
>B) "What you've endured is not your fault, and you bear no blame," you comfort them.

>>5880287
>>A) "You're safe now, no one will harm you again," you gently assure the girls.

>>5880287
>B) "What you've endured is not your fault, and you bear no blame," you comfort them.

>>5880287
>D) "The men who hurt you are dead, or will soon be hanged for their crimes," you assure them.

>>5880291
>>5880293
>>5880392
>>5880469
>>5880486
>>5880487
>>5880738
>>5881021
>>5881048
>>5881093
>>5881106
>>5881279
>>5881554
You observe the two peasant girls, captives in the brigands' hideout, their innocence shattered by repeated assaults. The trauma they've suffered — the defilement, disgrace, and degradation — will haunt them, casting long shadows over their young lives. The scars, both physical and emotional, will persist long after their rescue.
Your thoughts turn to how the girls might have fallen into the hands of these brigands. Perhaps in a moment of youthful recklessness, they ventured too far from their village, defying parental warnings, only to fall into the brigands' clutches. Or, they might have been deceived by a smooth-talking young brigand, too immature to foresee the nightmare that awaited them.
You are acutely aware of the harsh judgment they may face upon returning home. Victims are often unjustly blamed, a tragic reality where the abused are held accountable rather than their tormentors. Worse still, the girls themselves might internalize this blame, seeing their suffering as punishment for their youthful indiscretions.
Seeking to ease their burden of misplaced guilt, you reassure them. "What you've endured is not your fault. You bear no blame," you comfort them, hoping to provide some solace. "The man who hurt you is dead."
"It wasn't just Grendar," the brunette says, her voice laced with hatred and pain, "They all... they all took turns."
Your resolve hardens, and you promise them justice with unwavering conviction. "Then they shall all be hanged for their crimes. Every last one of them." Your promise echoes not just as their lord but as a guardian committed to avenging those harmed under your rule.

>A) You promptly execute the remaining brigands by hanging them in the forest. Their lifeless bodies are left dangling from the trees, serving as a stern warning to any who might contemplate harming your people.
>B) In the nearest village square, you publicly hang the surviving brigands. This act serves as a declaration to your subjects that their lord has returned, fully committed to protecting them from such evils.
>C) After executing the brigands by hanging in the forest, you bestow upon them a final act of mercy by burying them. This decision stems from your belief that every soul, regardless of their transgressions in life, is entitled to the dignity of a proper burial.
>D) Following their execution in the forest, you leave the brigands' corpses unburied, exposed to the elements and scavengers. You consider them unworthy of any honor in death, their bodies left as a grim reminder of their misdeeds.

>>5882339

>C) After executing the brigands by hanging in the forest, you bestow upon them a final act of mercy by burying them. This decision stems from your belief that every soul, regardless of their transgressions in life, is entitled to the dignity of a proper burial.

Two birds with one stone.

>B)
Mass grave once they've had a bit of air-time.

>>5882339
>>B) In the nearest village square, you publicly hang the surviving brigands. This act serves as a declaration to your subjects that their lord has returned, fully committed to protecting them from such evils.

>>5882339
>E) In Blackthorn Keep, you hang the surviving brigands over the walls. This act serves as a declaration to your serfs that you have arrived, fully committed to punishing them for going against you.

>>5882339
>E) In Blackthorn Keep, you hang the surviving brigands over the walls. This act serves as a declaration to your serfs that you have arrived, fully committed to punishing them for going against you.

>>5882339
>A) You promptly execute the remaining brigands by hanging them in the forest. Their lifeless bodies are left dangling from the trees, serving as a stern warning to any who might contemplate harming your people.

>>5882339
>E) In Blackthorn Keep, you hang the surviving brigands over the walls. This act serves as a declaration to your serfs that you have arrived, fully committed to punishing them for going against you.

>>5882339
>D) Following their execution in the forest, you leave the brigands' corpses unburied, exposed to the elements and scavengers. You consider them unworthy of any honor in death, their bodies left as a grim reminder of their misdeeds.

>>5882339
>E) In Blackthorn Keep, you hang the surviving brigands over the walls. This act serves as a declaration to your serfs that you have arrived, fully committed to punishing them for going against you.

>>5882339
>>B) In the nearest village square, you publicly hang the surviving brigands. This act serves as a declaration to your subjects that their lord has returned, fully committed to protecting them from such evils.

>>5882339
>B) In the nearest village square, you publicly hang the surviving brigands. This act serves as a declaration to your subjects that their lord has returned, fully committed to protecting them from such evils.

>>5882339
>C) After executing the brigands by hanging in the forest, you bestow upon them a final act of mercy by burying them. This decision stems from your belief that every soul, regardless of their transgressions in life, is entitled to the dignity of a proper burial.

>>5882339
>C) After executing the brigands by hanging in the forest, you bestow upon them a final act of mercy by burying them. This decision stems from your belief that every soul, regardless of their transgressions in life, is entitled to the dignity of a proper burial.

>>5882339
>>C) After executing the brigands by hanging in the forest, you bestow upon them a final act of mercy by burying them. This decision stems from your belief that every soul, regardless of their transgressions in life, is entitled to the dignity of a proper burial.

>>5882339
>C) After executing the brigands by hanging in the forest, you bestow upon them a final act of mercy by burying them. This decision stems from your belief that every soul, regardless of their transgressions in life, is entitled to the dignity of a proper burial.

>>5882343
>>5882458
>>5882461
>>5882563
>>5882682
>>5882817
>>5882825
>>5882916
>>5883389
>>5883523
>>5883627
>>5884108
>>5884331
>>5884458
>>5884596
You command your men to execute the brigands for their heinous crimes. Among the condemned, a boy, barely older than fourteen, his face marked with acne, pleads desperately for his life. "Milord, I was forced into this," he insists.
Turning to the girls for confirmation, you ask, "Was he among those who violated you?" The brunette, with a gaze hardened by her ordeal, affirms coldly, "Yes."
"I was the last one, milord, after the others... after they had their turn," the boy stammers, seeking leniency.
"Then you shall be the last to hang," you declare, your voice empty of emotion. This duty brings no satisfaction, yet justice does not discriminate by age. The young, too, must bear the weight of their crimes. Even at fourteen, one must bear the consequences of such vile acts as murder and rape.
As the brigands are led to the noose, the redhead looks away, unable to witness the grim scene. The brunette, however, watches intently, her gaze fixed on the perpetrators of her suffering meeting their end.
After executing the brigands by hanging in the forest, you bestow upon them a final act of mercy by burying them. This decision stems from your belief that every soul, regardless of their transgressions in life, is entitled to the dignity of a proper burial.
The brunette, watching the burials, questions your decision. "Do monsters like these deserve the honor of a burial?" she asks, her eyes fixed on the scene.

>A) "Perhaps they don't," you acknowledge her point, "But we bury them not for their benefit, but for ours. If we forgo our principles, even in dealing with the vilest of men, we risk losing what makes us human."
>B) "They may have acted monstrously, but they were still men," you reply thoughtfully. "Every man, regardless of his deeds in life, is entitled to the dignity of a proper burial. It's a matter of principle, not of deserving."
>C) "Holding onto hatred for the dead only darkens our own hearts," you explain gently. "By giving them a burial, we're not condoning their actions but allowing ourselves to let go of the bitterness and move forward."
>D) "I've fought in the cursed lands, seen unspeakable horrors," you say solemnly. "Believe me when I say, leaving the dead unburied invites evils far worse than we can imagine. It's a matter of safety, not just morality."

>>5884670
>>D) "I've fought in the cursed lands, seen unspeakable horrors," you say solemnly. "Believe me when I say, leaving the dead unburied invites evils far worse than we can imagine. It's a matter of safety, not just morality."

>>5884670
>C) "Holding onto hatred for the dead only darkens our own hearts," you explain gently. "By giving them a burial, we're not condoning their actions but allowing ourselves to let go of the bitterness and move forward."

>>5884670
>E) "Silence wench!" you bellow before slapping her to the ground. "Those with power decide the fate of others. You are here now because you had none."

>>5884670
>A) "Perhaps they don't," you acknowledge her point, "But we bury them not for their benefit, but for ours. If we forgo our principles, even in dealing with the vilest of men, we risk losing what makes us human."

I'm also with A and C combined, not only such act distinguishes noble men from monsters but also it makes the victims to forgo the weight of the atrocities and make themselves rid of a burden.

>>5884670

>A) "Perhaps they don't," you acknowledge her point, "But we bury them not for their benefit, but for ours. If we forgo our principles, even in dealing with the vilest of men, we risk losing what makes us human."

This is practical Crusader logic, I think. I don’t think we’re in danger of these dudes literally rising from the grave though

>A+D
Solid twist and dialogue on that last update, I can see this coming to rival the legendary SWORN TO VALOUR with that level of writing quality.

I also enjoy how there is a consistent effort from a more "evil" anon to steer us in a brutal direction, whether it wins or not. In fact it seemed to be winning that last vote before 4 C votes came in last minute....

>>5885032
6

>>5884670
>E) "Silence wench!" you bellow before slapping her to the ground. "Those with power decide the fate of others. You are here now because you had none."

>>5884670
>>A) "Perhaps they don't," you acknowledge her point, "But we bury them not for their benefit, but for ours. If we forgo our principles, even in dealing with the vilest of men, we risk losing what makes us human."

Another thing done in Blackthorne Keep. Now for that famine

>>5884670
>>B) "They may have acted monstrously, but they were still men," you reply thoughtfully. "Every man, regardless of his deeds in life, is entitled to the dignity of a proper burial. It's a matter of principle, not of deserving."

>>5884670
>A) "Perhaps they don't," you acknowledge her point, "But we bury them not for their benefit, but for ours. If we forgo our principles, even in dealing with the vilest of men, we risk losing what makes us human."

>>5884670
>E) "Silence wench!" you bellow before slapping her to the ground. "Those with power decide the fate of others. You are here now because you had none."

>>5884670
>A) "Perhaps they don't," you acknowledge her point, "But we bury them not for their benefit, but for ours. If we forgo our principles, even in dealing with the vilest of men, we risk losing what makes us human."

>>5884673
>>5884686
>>5884730
>>5884956
>>5884982
>>5885031
>>5885032
>>5885097
>>5885135
>>5885143
>>5885150
>>5885208
>>5885391
>>5885474
>>5885589
"Perhaps they don't," you acknowledge her point, "But we bury them not for their benefit, but for ours. If we forgo our principles, even in dealing with the vilest of men, we risk losing what makes us human."
The principles of chivalry and codes of honor are what distinguish noble men from monsters. As a crusader, you swore to defend the weak, championing right and good against injustice and evil. You are committed to upholding that vow throughout your life.
You instruct your men to gather the brigands' weapons and armor. These tools, once used to exploit and harm, will now serve a nobler purpose - to protect the vulnerable. Your plan is to train the young lads of your domain, transforming peasant boys into defenders of their homes and villages.
The Bastard Brotherhood had amassed a considerable hoard of loot - coin and valuables plundered from murdered merchants or ransoms exchanged for noble captives. You discover bags filled with coins, resources that can be redirected for the betterment of your people.

>A) You decide to use the coins to enhance the fortifications of Blackthorn Keep and the nearby villages. This will involve repairing walls, constructing stronger gates, and perhaps adding a few watchtowers for better defense against future raids.
>B) You choose to allocate the coins towards medical care by employing more skilled herbalists and midwives. These practitioners will serve both the keep and the surrounding villages, providing essential healthcare with their knowledge of herbs and traditional healing methods.
>C) You decide to invest in local agriculture and craftsmanship. The funds will be used to purchase better tools for farmers and artisans, as well as seeds and livestock, which will help boost productivity and trade in the region.
>D) You opt to use the coins for education, particularly focusing on training more scribes and supporting monastic schools. While literacy is rare among peasants, these efforts will help in educating the sons of some promising commoners, fostering literacy and administrative skills.
>E) You resolve to donate a significant portion of the coins to the church. This act will not only fulfill your duty and obligation as a crusader but also potentially garner favor with the clergy, who hold considerable influence.

>>5886295
>C) You decide to invest in local agriculture and craftsmanship. The funds will be used to purchase better tools for farmers and artisans, as well as seeds and livestock, which will help boost productivity and trade in the region.

But is there a chance we may allow a little portion of this money towards building defences ?

>>5886295

>C) You decide to invest in local agriculture and craftsmanship. The funds will be used to purchase better tools for farmers and artisans, as well as seeds and livestock, which will help boost productivity and trade in the region.

Put the money back towards the people - we can put the increased revenues towards other purposes in the future

>>5886295
>>A) You decide to use the coins to enhance the fortifications of Blackthorn Keep and the nearby villages. This will involve repairing walls, constructing stronger gates, and perhaps adding a few watchtowers for better defense against future raids.

>>5886295
>>C) You decide to invest in local agriculture and craftsmanship. The funds will be used to purchase better tools for farmers and artisans, as well as seeds and livestock, which will help boost productivity and trade in the region.
Invest now for more later

>>5886295
>F)You determine the coins would best be used for entertaining. Opening a brothel, gambling house, and tavern filled with the finest wine, women, and games will give the people an opportunity to enrich themselves through the region becoming a traveler's paradise.

>>5886295
>F)You determine the coins would best be used for entertaining. Opening a brothel, gambling house, and tavern filled with the finest wine, women, and games will give the people an opportunity to enrich themselves through the region becoming a traveler's paradise.

>A
Anything else is secondary.

>>5886530
>Oh Fuck off already

>>5886295
>F)You determine the coins would best be used for entertaining. Opening a brothel, gambling house, and tavern filled with the finest wine, women, and games will give the people an opportunity to enrich themselves through the region becoming a traveler's paradise.

>>5886295
>E) You resolve to donate a significant portion of the coins to the church. This act will not only fulfill your duty and obligation as a crusader but also potentially garner favor with the clergy, who hold considerable influence.

>>5886295
>>F)You determine the coins would best be used for entertaining. Opening a brothel, gambling house, and tavern filled with the finest wine, women, and games will give the people an opportunity to enrich themselves through the region becoming a traveler's paradise.

>>5886295
>C) You decide to invest in local agriculture and craftsmanship. The funds will be used to purchase better tools for farmers and artisans, as well as seeds and livestock, which will help boost productivity and trade in the region.

>>5886295
>>F)You determine the coins would best be used for entertaining. Opening a brothel, gambling house, and tavern filled with the finest wine, women, and games will give the people an opportunity to enrich themselves through the region becoming a traveler's paradise.

>>5886295

>C) You decide to invest in local agriculture and craftsmanship. The funds will be used to purchase better tools for farmers and artisans, as well as seeds and livestock, which will help boost productivity and trade in the region.

Economy boost can preemptovely solve many issues.

>>5886295

>B) You choose to allocate the coins towards medical care by employing more skilled herbalists and midwives. These practitioners will serve both the keep and the surrounding villages, providing essential healthcare with their knowledge of herbs and traditional healing methods.

Healthcare is important in the middle ages

>>5886295
>F)You determine the coins would best be used for entertaining. Opening a brothel, gambling house, and tavern filled with the finest wine, women, and games will give the people an opportunity to enrich themselves through the region becoming a traveler's paradise.

>>5886295
>A) You decide to use the coins to enhance the fortifications of Blackthorn Keep and the nearby villages. This will involve repairing walls, constructing stronger gates, and perhaps adding a few watchtowers for better defense against future raids.

>>5886295
>>C) You decide to invest in local agriculture and craftsmanship. The funds will be used to purchase better tools for farmers and artisans, as well as seeds and livestock, which will help boost productivity and trade in the region.

>>5886295
>F)You determine the coins would best be used for entertaining. Opening a brothel, gambling house, and tavern filled with the finest wine, women, and games will give the people an opportunity to enrich themselves through the region becoming a traveler's paradise.

>>5886295
>F)You determine the coins would best be used for entertaining. Opening a brothel, gambling house, and tavern filled with the finest wine, women, and games will give the people an opportunity to enrich themselves through the region becoming a traveler's paradise.

>>5886295
>D) You opt to use the coins for education, particularly focusing on training more scribes and supporting monastic schools. While literacy is rare among peasants, these efforts will help in educating the sons of some promising commoners, fostering literacy and administrative skills.

>>5886295
>C) You decide to invest in local agriculture and craftsmanship. The funds will be used to purchase better tools for farmers and artisans, as well as seeds and livestock, which will help boost productivity and trade in the region.
>>5886530
-1
Brothels are OOC for crusader boi

>>5886295
5886295 #
>F)You determine the coins would best be used for entertaining. Opening a brothel, gambling house, and tavern filled with the finest wine, women, and games will give the people an opportunity to enrich themselves through the region becoming a traveler's paradise.

zing

>>5886295
>A+C

What a great quest. 125 posters in just 260 posts. I'm sure they are all just frens.

I enjoy this quest, and it has certainly put up numbers, but some retard is clearly samefagging, perhaps more than one. 22 replies vs a previous average of around 13ish. To those who samefag I say: write fanfiction instead, you miserable cretins.

>>5887993
Jinx
I am a phoneposter and I'm sure there are others, but these numbers are ridiculous.

>>5887996
It's pretty blatant. gClFy2de is putting in dumb edgelord options and samefagging to make them win. Another anon is samefagging to troll him and force chivalry options win

>>5887997
Same kek

>>5886295
>>C) You decide to invest in local agriculture and craftsmanship. The funds will be used to purchase better tools for farmers and artisans, as well as seeds and livestock, which will help boost productivity and trade in the region.

>>5888002
You got it backwards. People who aren't mobile have been voting for the fun option, while almost all 1post are voting for C.

>>5887993
lol The magic of frenship.

>>5886295
>F)You determine the coins would best be used for entertaining. Opening a brothel, gambling house, and tavern filled with the finest wine, women, and games will give the people an opportunity to enrich themselves through the region becoming a traveler's paradise.