File: INTERSTITION1.gif (143 KB, 1280x720)

143 KB GIF

[https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NQIDHmJo4IQ]

File: 204.gif (499 KB, 1280x720)

499 KB GIF

You lie strewn out across your bed, gut full of food and head full of dreams after a long night of bread and circus in the chapel halls. You feel the gentle caress of light on your cheek–the sun as it rises over the sea and pours into your room–but it’s not enough to wrest you from your sleep just yet.

>You dream of your childhood, a home of warm hearths and among nine siblings.
>You dream of your days at St. August’s Conservatory.
>You dream of your master in a scandalous pose and outfit.
>You dream of that cool chicken with the cigarette from the first picture.
>[Write-In.]

>>5879585
>You dream of your master in a scandalous pose and outfit.

we’re so back.

>>5879585
>>You dream of your childhood, a home of warm hearths and among nine siblings.

>You dream of your master in a scandalous pose and outfit.

>>5879585
>You dream of your childhood, a home of warm hearths and among nine siblings.
A voiced animatic?? Amazing! Welcome back, QM.

>>5879585
>You dream of your master in a scandalous pose and outfit saying how much she appreciates you and your help.

FUCK YEAH GREENHORN’S BACK

>>5879585
>Write-in
>You dream of Bredbeddle in a scandalous pose and outfit.
We’re so back

>>5879609
I'll support this if wholesomeness doesn't win. Bredbreddle is Bestbeddle.
I hope the real one's still alive

>>5879585
>You dream of your childhood, a home of warm hearths and among nine siblings.
A voiced recap? You spoil us.

File: AVGNPraise.gif (765 KB, 480x360)

765 KB GIF

>>5879585
>You dream of your childhood, a home of warm hearths and among nine siblings.
I clapped when I saw this quest return.

>>5879585
>You dream of your childhood, a home of warm hearths and among nine siblings.

>>5879585
>>You dream of your childhood, a home of warm hearths and among nine siblings.

>>5879585
>You dream of your master in a scandalous pose and outfit.

>>5879585
>You dream of your master in a scandalous pose and outfit.

File: 205.gif (227 KB, 1280x720)

227 KB GIF

>>5879633
>>5879632
>>5879626
>>5879623
>>5879622
>>5879609
>>5879596
>>5879593
>>5879591
>>5879588
>>5879587

"Oh, Bobby.." Your eldest sister, Catalina, dabs your tears away with her kerchief. You are back in your childhood bedroom–a slipshod mess of planks and stone, the bottom bunk among three other beds, floors run black with the burns of chemical pet slime stains. “She’s not going to take you away. Come on. She just wants to see you..”

“She wants to see me? More like she wants something out of me.” You bark back. “Like she knows anything. I don’t even want to be a stupid wizard. I want to be a chef.”
“Please, Bobby. You know, she’s really not that bad. I’m sure she just wants to see how tall you’ve gotten.” She places her hand on your shoulder as she sits next to you. “Do it for me, at least?”

>Go see her.
>Quickly, run away! There’s a window out of your room to the street.
>Tell Catalina to leave your room.
>[Write-In.]

>>5879701
>Can you go with me?
>Go see her.

>>5879701
>Can you go with me?
>Go see her.

>>5879701
>Go see her.
face destiny

>>5879701
>>Go see her

>>5879701
>[Write-In.]
>Can you go with me?

I didn't come to feel.

>>5879770
+1

>verification not required

>>5879701
>Quickly, run away! There’s a window out of your room to the street.

>>5879701
>Go see her.

>>5879701
>>Tell Catalina to leave your room.

File: 206.gif (306 KB, 1280x720)

306 KB GIF

>>5879705
>>5879707
>>5879754
>>5879755
>>5879770
>>5879804
>>5879854
>>5880449
>>5880457

>Can you go with me?
>Go see her.

“Fine. I’ll go see her. But only for a little.” You mutter as you stand. “Can you go with me?”
“..Okay.” She reassures you with a smile, a small hand over yours.

You follow after her lead through the door, past the colorful wax scribbles along the walls of the hall and wooden toys along the ground. You feel almost dream-like as your feet glide along the floor like and trace in the steps of your sister. You have to hold your breath as you step into the parlor.

Your visitor stands in wait in wait just ahead–casting black, oily shadows as she observes the hearth, standing so tall her hennin near scrapes the ceiling, almost phantom-like. Her head tilts back to follow your movement, though you cannot trace the line of her gaze beneath her bonnet. You can’t help but feel your tongue glue up your mouth. Your sister’s grip on your hand tightens.

“Bobbington. And.. Catalina.” Your mother, MILADY DU-SAINT-WINIFRED–or, as is what your pa calls her, MOLLY. This is the first time you remember seeing her. “You’ve grown.”

>Remain silent and let her speak.
>Demand to know what she wants.
>Flee. She’s really scary, actually.
>[Write-In.]

>>5880538
>Demand to know what she wants.

>>5880538
>>Demand to know what she wants.

>>5880538
>Flee. She’s really scary, actually.

>>5880538
>Demand to know what she wants.

>>5880538
>Flee. She’s really scary, actually.
damn
how is mom that tall and we're this short
we were robbed
our older siblings took all the tall genes and left us nothing

>>5880538
>Demand to know what she wants.

>>5879622 is me. I'm away from home.

>>5880538
>Remain silent and let her speak.

>>5880594
The price of short kings winning the toll gorl bowl.

>>5880538
>Remain silent and let her speak.
Maybe try to hide behind Catalina too.

>>5880538
>>Demand to know what she wants.

File: 207.gif (458 KB, 1280x720)

458 KB GIF

>>5880551
>>5880556
>>5880561
>>5880567
>>5880594
>>5880611
>>5880619
>>5880620
>>5880687
>>5880761

>Demand to know what she wants.

“What are you here for?” You ask–the words cut the air, terse and a little frightful. You do your best to hide yourself behind your sister.
“Bobbington, I..” Your mother takes a step toward you, but you shrink in her presence. You watch her fall back to the hearth. “..You needn’t worry. I won’t take you away from here. I simply came by to give you a gift.”

“..A gift?” You echo. You watch her reach into the hem of her dress–and then, slowly, her fingers unfurl around a thread of wood and root–a wand.
“It’s a dyadic wand-woven of yggdrasil and holy thorn. It is very powerful.” Your mother’s words are careful and deliberate. “You’re nearly of age now–”

“Didn’t pa tell you? I don’t want to be a wizard.” You spit back at her. “You can keep it.”
“Oh, Bobbington.” Your mother smiles sadly. “I’m sorry, but–.. fate has a way of twisting our arm. Even when we don’t want it to.”

Your nose twitches. You hear a–knock, from outside. The outside of your home? No, wait. What are you doing back here?

>You accepted the wand.
>You didn’t accept the wand.
>What does it matter whether you took it or not? You’re a wizard now. She was right.
>[Write-In.]

>>5880792
>What does it matter whether you took it or not? You’re a wizard now. She was right.

>>5880792
>You accepted the wand.

>>5880792
>What does it matter whether you took it or not? You’re a wizard now. She was right.
Curse you, Fate! Except, well, we met our maser this way, so actually THANK you, Fae!

>>5880792
>You accepted the wand.
thanks mommy

>>5880792
>What does it matter whether you took it or not? You’re a wizard now. She was right.

>>5880792
>You didn’t accept the wand.

>>5880792
>You accepted the wand.

So be it.

>>5880792
>>What does it matter whether you took it or not? You’re a wizard now. She was right.

>>5880792
>You accepted the wand.
Weird that we were so disinterested, seems like we're pretty eager to be a wizard now.

>>5880792
>>You accepted the wand.

>>5880792
>What does it matter whether you took it or not? You’re a wizard now. She was right.

>>5881105
children are fickle

File: 208.gif (1.29 MB, 1280x720)

1.29 MB GIF

>>5880796
>>5880798
>>5880811
>>5880821
>>5880822
>>5880847
>>5880986
>>5881102
>>5881105
>>5881145
>>5881160

>What does it matter whether you took it or not? You’re a wizard now. She was right.
>You accepted the wand.

Why fight it? You know how this ends. You can do more to stop fate than you could the hands of the clock. You take the wand in your hands–each groove familiar and comfortable in your grip. You were meant to be a wizard.
“Good. You will need it.” Your mother breathes a sigh of relief as you take the wand into your hands. Your childhood home begins to dissipate all about you as the knock from outside grows more and more loud–the walls and floors, the toys and warmth, and your sister, until just you and your mother stand in the parlor.
“You are a child of the wild gods, Bobbington. You have the capacity to do great and terrible things. You are both cursed and blessed.” Your mother extends her hand out toward you. “Your patron wild god–Leshy, He From the Forest, will try to reach out to you soon. He will call you L–”

You wake with a start as the rapping grows too loud to ignore. You are shirtless, pantsless, and dignityless, cornbread crumbs on your stomach and a crust of drool along your mouth. You can hear the log-legged gnome’s voice on the other end.

“Snuff. Rabbit-ears. Dorkus. Pineneedle.” Bredbeddle calls for you as she hammers on the door. “You up yet?! Your runt master wants you. Or are you still leering at that weirdo poster you got of the great witch? I bet you are, you pervert.”

>Open the door. What does she want?
>Try to roll back to sleep. The dream was getting good.
>Leer at weirdo poster of great witch.
>[Write-In.]

>>5881194
>Leer at weirdo poster of great witch.

>>5881194
>Open the door. What does she want?

>>5881194
>>Try to roll back to sleep. The dream was getting good.

>>5881194
>Don shirt, pants, HOOD, and dignity before opening the door.

>Leer at weirdo poster of great witch.

>>5881194
>Open the door. What does she want?

>>5881244
Don't do this.

>>5881194
>Open the door. What does she want?
My favorite gnomish skinwalker.

>>5881194
>leer at the weirdo poster of the great witch
Good idea! We need strength for the coming day

>>5881244
Do this

>>5881194
>Open the door. What does she want?

>>5881244
+1

>>5881194
>Open the door. What does she want?

>>5881194
>Leer at weirdo poster of great witch.
>Recover clothes and dignity.
>Open the door. What does she want?

>>5881194
>VIEW ADMIRINGLY at ARTISTIC poster of great witch.

>>5881194
>>5881388
+1 to this, but after that....
>Open the damn door and ask what the freaky skinwalker thing wants

>>5881194
>>Leer at weirdo poster of great witch.
Wand maintenance is important

>>5881400
IC, I don't think we're aware of the impostor/skinwalker.

>>5881194
>Open the door. What does she want?
>Steal a quick glance at weirdo poster of great witch.

>>5881194
>Open the door. What does she want?
>Don't put on clothes
If it's the skinwalker, they will be too shocked to kill us. If it's the real Bred, it'll be really funny. Win-Win

File: 209.png (40 KB, 609x973)

40 KB PNG

>>5881204
>>5881213
>>5881215
>>5881244
>>5881259
>>5881264
>>5881266
>>5881299
>>5881314
>>5881318
>>5881322
>>5881363
>>5881369
>>5881388
>>5881400
>>5881406
>>5881419
>>5881456

>Leer at weirdo poster of great witch.
>Recover clothes and dignity.
>Open the door. What does she want?

“Ghck–” You choke on your spit as you shoot up, little else on save for our breeches. You woke up late! You hop off your mattress and finagle your way into the robe at your bedside–you remember (fortunately or unfortunately, in your situation) to at least don some clothes before you move to greet the gnome and avoid any comedic scenarios. You steal a quick glance at the weirdo posters that line your room as you do–a comfort in hard times.
You move through the room like a hurricane–hood on head, wand in hand, egg in pocket–before you swing the door open to meet her eyes.

Bredbeddle stands before you, looking for all intents and purposes just as acerbic a gnome as ever. The pickpocket rolls her eyes at the sight of you. “There you are, sleeping beauty. Your master was up my ass asking me to wake you. She told me to tell you we were “here”, whatever that means. Said you knew what it’d mean. Done polishing your wand, or should I give you a few more minutes?”
“I wasn’t polishing my wand.” You mutter back in response. It is strange that you woke up late, though.. you’re normally up-and-at-em by 4.

>Get to your lady. She needs you!
>Ask Bredbeddle what she wanted to do in your master’s room last night.
>Look back into your room at your weirdo posters in more detail.
>[Write-In.]

>>5881463
>Ask Bredbeddle what she wanted to do in your master’s room last night.
>Look back into your room at your weirdo posters in more detail.

>>5881463
>Ask Bredbeddle what she wanted to do in your master’s room last night.
>”Don’t talk to me about being a creep when you ask for those sorts of favors, Bredbeddle.”

>>5881463
>Get to your lady. She needs you!
No time for love! Or for Bredbeddle!

>>5881463
>[Write-In.]
Kill the rats.

>>5881463
>Pet the rat
>Get to your lady. She needs you!

>>5881463
>Ask Bredbeddle what she wanted to do in your master’s room last night.
>Pet the rat

File: IMG_2695.png (12 KB, 785x535)

12 KB PNG

>>5881476
Also
>Pet the rat
Casting Rat requires live rats as material components. It would behoove us to keep our supply relatively happy.

>>5881463
>>5881472
+1

I just realized, later we should Clothing Beam the cockatrice and give both heads sunglasses and cigarettes to make it a cool cockatrice.

File: 210.gif (4.19 MB, 1280x720)

4.19 MB GIF

>>5881472
>>5881476
>>5881482
>>5881494
>>5881506
>>5881551
>>5881564
>>5881575

>Ask Bredbeddle what she wanted to do in your master’s room last night.
>Look back into your room at your weirdo posters in more detail.

You glance back to your room--are your weirdo posters so obvious? You’ve an impressive selection of memorabilia about your fair lady, from photographs of her in the capitol to made-to-order illustrations (many of them of the tasteful and savory variety, mind you!) Your master never enters your bedroom, so you seldom have to worry too much, but still.. if the gnome saw them right away, it's only a matter of time before word gets out to the rest of the chapel. You had better put your awesome memorabilia somewhere more discrete.

“I’m not a creep!” You insist as you shut the door behind you to hide the bikini-clad illustrations of your master. “I’m–normal! And what would you know about creepy? You acted all weird and flirty last night..! What did you even do in my lady’s bedroom, anyways..?”
“Uh? Is your head on right?” The gnome raises a brow. “What are you talking about? I didn’t go into your weird runt witch’s bedroom last night.”

“Wh–.. then, why did you ask where it was?” You frown.
“I didn’t even talk to you last night after you gave me the corndogs.” She scoffs. “I took them to my room and ate about thirteen.. or fourteen, then I got sick and threw up in a hat, and then I went to sleep. And acting weird and flirty with you? You're gonna make me throw up again. You must’ve eaten way too many corndogs.”

“U-uh.. What?” Your eyebrow twinges. “But–I did talk to you.”

>Interrogate Bredbeddle to see if she experienced or saw anything funny.
>Try to use your brain here.
>Go to see your lady. This isn’t something to consider now.
>[Write-In.]

>>5881635
>Try to use your brain here.
It is rather unusual of Bredbeddle to do that - what if it wasn’t her we talked to?

>>5881635
>Go to see your lady. This isn’t something to consider now.
No time for brains! Milady needs us!

>>5881635
>>Interrogate Bredbeddle to see if she experienced or saw anything funny.
>>Try to use your brain here.
Time to use all 5 of our iq points.

>>5881635
>[Write-In.]
The lady covering her one eye and leaning backwards is the best poster.

>>5881635
>Bredbeddle’s just being shy after flirting so hard last night. Reassure her that while you’re spoken for, you understand her infatuation with you.

>>5881635
>Try to use your brain here.
Bredbeddle, corndogs don’t make you hallucinate conversations with others sometimes, do they?

>>5881635
>Try to use your brain here.
>Go to see your lady. This isn’t something to consider now.

File: 211.gif (4.22 MB, 1424x454)

4.22 MB GIF

>>5881668
>>5881677
>>5881678
>>5881802
>>5881821
>>5881829
>>5881936

>Try to use your brain here.

You try to string together what theories you can to explain the strange perturbation. You suppose the gnome could be lying--perhaps she stole away with something invaluable from your master's room in the evening--but what reason might she have to lie to you about something so plainly instead of coming up with a more reasonable explanation?

You guess it could be some bad cornbatter, or perhaps the offal in your sausages that went bad: a very strange hallucinatory conversation born out of corndogs isn't entirely out of the question. You did sleep very soundly last night--far too soundly than you like to sleep, at least. You've never woken up late before while at the chapel, and at least not to this extent.

You also can't entirely rule out the possibility of an impostor gnome. It could've been a wild fey trickster come to play a prank. You've met with some in the wilds before, and they tend to the primordial sea like mosquitoes to open water. Or it could've been a bunch of rats in a cloak. Yes.. a possibility you cannot afford to rule out. Or, even then, it could be a doppelganger--a species well-renowned for spying, assassinating, and playing at political gambits..

"Do you have a promiscuous evil twin, Bredbeddle?" You ask her.
"What? No." The gnome stares at you funny.

>Go see your lady. You had best alert her of the situation.
>Wait--can you even trust your master? Perhaps this IS a doppelganger situation.
>Demand Bredbeddle PROVE, without a doubt, that she is Bredbeddle.
>[Write-In.]

>>5882085
>Demand Bredbeddle PROVE, without a doubt, that she is Bredbeddle.

If she does, give her a CODEWORD she can use for quick future identity verification.

>>5882085
>>Demand Bredbeddle PROVE, without a doubt, that she is Bredbeddle.

>>5882085
>>5882089
+1

>>5882085
>Wait--can you even trust your master? Perhaps this IS a doppelganger situation.

Is Leshy already here? Are you the sole survivor amidst a chapel of intruders?

>quest with a discord
How many troons in there?

>>5882085
>Go see your lady. You had best alert her of the situation.

>>5882085
>Go see your lady. You had best alert her of the situation.
MIYUKI MENTIONED

>>5882085
>Go see your lady. You had best alert her of the situation.

>>5882085

+1 to >>5882089
But then, also,
>Go see your lady. You had best alert her of the situation.

>>5882120
A hundred and fifty, 151 if you have a Gameshark.

File: 212.gif (101 KB, 1280x720)

101 KB GIF

>>5882089
>>5882090
>>5882109
>>5882111
>>5882121
>>5882123
>>5882233
>>5882238

>Demand Bredbeddle PROVE, without a doubt, that she is Bredbeddle.
>Go see your lady. You had best alert her of the situation.

“I see.. then, we may have a situation on our hands.” You had ought to see your master posthaste about this situation–but first.. you cast your gaze back down to the scullery maid. “I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you to prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that you are the real Bredbeddle–not some gnomish impostor in her skin.”
“Huh?” She stares agape at you. “What? You think there’s a faker or something around here? Like, a shapeshifter? Then–uh.. how am I supposed to prove that I’m the real deal?!”

“Hmm–.. tell me something that only the real one would know. Like, a memory between the two of us, or..” You begin, but catch yourself. “Ah. No. Wait a minute. That won’t work–doppelgangers have some minor thought reading capacity. We’ve only been traveling for a couple nights, so they’ll be able to scoop memories between is from my brain like icecream.. You’ll need to do something only the real one could.”
“Well, I can do some crazy stuff, but.. definitely nothing you ought to know about.” She folds her arms and shuts her eyes. “Ah, wait. Here. This’ll work, right?”

The gnome raises a finger in the air and twirls it–and with it, a few stray burls of wood from the planks beneath your feet curl up beneath your sabots. You feel them lick at your heels as you raise your boot in surprise. “See? Gnomish magicks. Little wood growth.” Bredbeddle observes. “Doppelgangers can’t copy magic, right?”
“Ah–true enough.” You nod, hand on your chin–doppelgangers can copy physical strength, agility, and flexibility to an impressive extent, but not at all magic. “Then, you’ll have to excuse me. I have to see my lady.”

[...]

Your find your master stood at her study, staff in one hand and pipe in the other–she appears lost in thought as she stares out at the endless expanse of green outside. You knock first.
“Lady Sigrid.” You bow your head as you approach her. “I came to–ah.. you smoke, Lady Sigrid?”
“Hm. I try not to do it too often–it’s a foul habit.” She glances back at you, coils of a hazy fume curling up about her lips. “Only when I’m very, very stressed. Like now, for instance.”

“I see. Then, my lady, I–..” You catch yourself. You can’t quite be sure if your theory even has grounding, but still–you can’t be entirely sure if your master is your master at the moment.

>Just play along as if this was your master for now and ask about the final ingredient. Maybe you’ll catch a slip-up.
>Ask her if she can perform some magic for you.
>Surreptitiously ask her what her thoughts on doppelgangers are. Does she think they're awesome?
>Trust the figure before you and tell her about what you think may have happened.
>[Write-In.]

>>5882120
Keep yourself safe.

>>5882415
>Ask what bothers her currently

>>5882415
>Surreptitiously ask her what her thoughts on doppelgangers are. Does she think they're awesome?
She can't really do magic anyway, right now. It's why she needs to polymorph herself into a human.

>>5882415
>Just play along as if this was your master for now and ask about the final ingredient. Maybe you’ll catch a slip-up.

>>5882415
>[Write-In.]
Is that Pipe-weed? May I try some?

>>5882415
>Trust the figure before you and tell her about what you think may have happened.

The Great Witch Sigrid would never allow herself to be impersonated. Obviously she has long since copyrighted her likeness.

>>5882430
But she can channel the dead!

>>5882415
>Trust the figure before you and tell her about what you think may have happened.
>Ask her if she can perform some magic for you.

>>5882415
>Trust the figure before you and tell her about what you think may have happened.
>Ask her if she can perform some magic for you.
>"I'm having a weird feeling towards a doppelganger being in our midst, or some sort of mind altering magic. My memories of last night don't line up with what Bredbeddle says happened and that concerns me.

>>5882415
>>Just play along as if this was your master for now and ask about the final ingredient. Maybe you’ll catch a slip-up.
>>Ask her if she can perform some magic for you.

File: 213.gif (73 KB, 727x555)

73 KB GIF

>>5882428
>>5882430
>>5882492
>>5882550
>>5882551
>>5882753
>>5882790

>Trust the figure before you and tell her about what you think may have happened.
>Ask her if she can perform some magic for you.
>"I'm having a weird feeling towards a doppelganger being in our midst, or some sort of mind altering magic. My memories of last night don't line up with what Bredbeddle says happened and that concerns me.

“My lady..” You decide to get right to the point. “I think there may be an impostor in our midst–a shapeshifter, perhaps, or an illusory or mental magic at work. I thought I met and spoke with the gnome last night, but her recollection doesn’t align with mine.”
“You suppose there might be a spy? A doppelganger, maybe?” Sigrid raises a brow.

“I believe so–they asked for the location of your room. I supposed it might have been to clean up, perhaps, but..” You eye your fair master, who looks, for all intents and purposes, just as she always does. “Do you mind casting some magic? Just–anything, really, to set my mind at ease.”
“You’re doubting me? Really?” Your master scoffs. “Don’t you think it’s a little more likely that the gnome is lying to you than that a spy snuck into the chapel?”

“Well..” You murmur.
“And is the whole purpose of the journey not to brew a potion so I might use my magic? I can’t cast much right now, unless you’ve got a fresh corpse for me to channel.” She continues. “I’ll look into it–but if you ask me, it’s much more likely the gnome stole away into my study to take some money. Our focus should be on getting that transpeciation potion together and dealing with Leshy. We’re very close.”

“..I see.” You make a mental note that your master did NOT cast any magic–though, whether that’s because she is an impostor or because of her stress is yet to be seen. “Is Leshy really of that much import?”
“What do you think?” Sigrid eyes you as she takes another whiff off her pipe. “I hate dealing with gods.”

>Ask Sigrid for what you should do to help her.
>Tell her of your patrimony with him. He’s spoken to you recently, like in the dungeon!
>Insist she perform some magic to prove she isn't a doppelganger.
>Ask Sigrid if you can bring anyone with you to meet Leshy–maybe they’d prove useful?
>[Write-In.]

>>5882885
>[Write-In.]
Is that Pipe-weed? May I try some?

>>5882885
>Ask Sigrid for what you should do to help her.
>Tell her of your patrimony with him. He’s spoken to you recently, like in the dungeon!

>>5882885
>Tell her of your patrimony with him. He’s spoken to you recently, like in the dungeon!
He told us we misplayed our random spell cards and gave the ones we didn't use to the boss like some jerk too.

>>5882885
>Ask Sigrid for what you should do to help her.
>Tell her of your patrimony with him. He’s spoken to you recently, like in the dungeon!

>>5882905
+1

>>5882902
>>5882918
+1 to both of these

>>5882885

>>5882885
>Tell her of your patrimony with him. He’s spoken to you recently, like in the dungeon!

File: 214.gif (3.16 MB, 1951x747)

3.16 MB GIF

>>5882902
>>5882905
>>5882918
>>5882928
>>5883087
>>5883094
>>5883100

>Ask Sigrid for what you should do to help her.
>Tell her of your patrimony with him. He’s spoken to you recently, like in the dungeon!

“Is that pipe weed, my lady?” You eye the thin, wispy trails of smoke that ebb from the bowl. You’ve never been one to smoke, but you’ve heard tell of pipe weed before–it’s particularly popular among the short sort and is notoriously difficult to get outside of their underground communities. “May I try some?”
“Yes. And no.” Your master takes another puff. “Like I said, it’s a foul habit to pick you. Your mouth is just as important a tool for you as a wizard as your wand, so you’d do well to keep it clean.”

“I see.. well, then, might I ask what I could do to help you with the god?” You offer. “Like–perhaps a strategy of sorts, or a clever gambit? You know, as a child born of the wild gods, he’s actually my patron.. in fact, he spoke to me in the dungeon! Even if he was a little mean, but.. you think maybe he’ll just give us the hair as a gift for his son?”
“Oh, that’s right–it was his star you were born beneath, wasn’t it? Your mother made mention of that.” Your master sighs. “But no. Not likely.”

“We can do little to plan for this. The wild gods embody chaos, and he most of all relishes in it.” Your master looks out the window bitterly. “When people think of wild gods, they imagine fertility, bucolic scenes of pasture, fecund woodlands and peaceful wildlife.. not the roiling cosmological tempests that they are. The wilderness is, by nature, untamed, uncontrolled, and unbound. Just look at the primordial sea. It surrounds all known civilizations, no matter how much we try to conquer it. We’ve been tamed by the wilds, not the other way around. That’s why I hate that name–’wild gods.’ They’re more like chaos gods.”

You know little about the wild gods and you’d like to know little still, but if it would help your master.. “You mentioned you had run-ins with him before, have you not? How did those go..?”
“Embarrassing. Frustrating. Humiliating.” Your master’s gaze grows angry, then falls. “He generally avoids killing, but we should still watch ourselves around him. If we’re to head out, I’d prefer it just be you and me, to tell the truth. Any more and things will get unwieldy. Leshy preys on that.”

>Go out with your master.
>Try to convince your master to bring along someone else from the chapel. [Write-In.]
>[Write-In.]

>>5883151
>Go out with your master.

>>5883151
>Go out with your master.

Definitely.

>>5883151
>Go out with your master
Been a while since we had solo outing time with our biggest ever crush and beloved master.

>>5883151
>Go out with your master.
On a date, that is
Go out as a MAN and a WOMAN
A romantic outing

>>5883151
>>5883201
+1
A date it is!

>>5883151
>Go out with your master.
Skinwalker time?

>>5883151
>>5883201
+1 to Snuff treating it like a date and rizzing it up

>>5883201
+1, I know this is going to end horribly since Snuff has the social skills of a duck.

File: 215.png (76 KB, 2520x739)

76 KB PNG

>>5883157
>>5883162
>>5883170
>>5883201
>>5883254
>>5883438
>>5883537
>>5883538

>Go out with your master.

"Really? You don't suppose one of those in the chapel might be able to help us?" You place a hand on your chin. "We may be able to make us of Molly or Van den Bos's strength, or Bredbeddle's.. legs?"
"No. Leshy isn't a foe you can defeat by virtue of strength or magical prowess. Or fat legs.” Sigrid responds, observing the blunderbuss on her wall. “You have to outsmart him, beat him at his own game. And I trust in your intellect.. even if you make that difficult sometimes.”

You do your best to see off your chapel fellowship before you set out for the final ingredient. Van den Bos pats you on the back as the chickens peck at your sabots. Molly grunts in her sleep as you try to wave her off. Bredbeddle, who you found in the pantry admist a few empty cans of sausage, seems happy enough. And Drumstick guards your room and snaps at your fingers as you attempt to pet him.
“Done? Good.” Sigrid leans against the door out of the chapel. “Let’s hope he makes this quick. For both our sakes.”

[...]

You wade through the grass of the primordial sea after the trail left by your master. The wind laps at the green, forming cresting waves that break against your hips. The sky is clear, save for a few froth-like bubbles of clouds that foam up about the horizon. The primordial sea stretches out endless all about you–no towns nor people, just endless wilds.
“We’ll go a little distance from the chapel and summon him there. Snuff, are you paying attention?” Your master glances back at you.

“Ah–..uh, yeah.” You draw your gaze away from the sea and focus on your master.
“Good. And promise me something, Snuff.” Sigrid stares ahead. “No matter what game Leshy wants to play with me–or you–just go along with it. Don’t try to fight him or stand in for me. This isn’t like the boar or the decanter or the residue. You’ll just make it worse for us. I really mean it this time. He’s not liable to hurt us as long as we go along with what he wants.”

>Promise her you won’t.
>You can’t promise anything if it means protecting her.
>Drop a bomb-ass pickup line.
>[Write-In.]

>>5883580
>[Write-In.]
Why not just accept Leshy as one does nature instead of going against the flow of Chaos? Can a god even bleed?

>>5883580
>Promise her you won’t.
>Drop a bomb-ass pickup line.
How could I ever say “no” to you, master?

>>5883580
>Drop a bomb-ass pickup line.

>>5883589
+1

>>5883580
Cast some advanced rizzmancy

>>5883580
>Drop a bomb ass pickup line

File: bypeekay.png (134 KB, 1011x354)

134 KB PNG

Won't be updating again tonight--in the meantime, I'd be up for lore questions or some drawing requests to put in my queue.

>>5883943
Is Leshy an actual literal, biological ancestor, or just a progenitor-and-father in SPIRIT by dint of our star-sign?

>>5883943
Can we get more doodles of Bredbeddle when you have free time?

>>5883943
How good is Snuff at cooking? Seeing as he wanted to be a chef

>>5883943
Draw snuff being his usual wholesome self

>>5883943
Draw Snuff grown up, as a great wizard.

>>5883943
Can you do Bredbeddle reuniting with her long lost evil opposite twin?

>>5883943
Draw our master dressed as Grandma Duck.
https://disney.fandom.com/wiki/Grandma_Duck

>>5884744
This is the best one.

File: INTERSTITION2.gif (126 KB, 1280x720)

126 KB GIF

>>5883587
>>5883589
>>5883629
>>5883638
>>5883677

>Promise her you won’t.
>Drop a bomb-ass pickup line.

“I promise I won’t.” You swear solemnly. You try to wink beneath your hood. “How could I ever say ‘no’ to you, master?”
“That’s a good point. You shouldn’t say no to me, since I’m your master. And yet you seem to anyways..” Your bomb-ass pickup line drop seems to fly over your master’s head. “Just keep your head on straight and avoid giving in to his badgering. I’ll be fine and you’ll be fine. Now..”

Your master suddenly pauses her walk, causing you to near stumble over her. You catch yourself from toppling down on top of her as she sticks a thumb in her mouth and raises it in the air–observing the sea all around you, your lady takes a quiet breath. “Yeah. This is good enough. He should hear from out here. Be quiet a moment, Snuff.”
Sigrid shuts her eyes. “How did it go again..? Uhm..”

”Hark, Leshy, hark! Amidst yon grasses rise,
Grace us, he from the forest, the father of lies.

Pass through woodland bush, cant’r through the fern,
Let the ancient sea part so that thou mayst return.

O, Leshy, master of magic, amidst the untamed wilds born,
Bestow upon us eyes to see, we foolish greenhorns.”

You wince in wait as your master closes her prayer–perhaps, waiting for the skies to crack with lightning, or the ground beneath you to roil and belch fire–but no godly retribution meets you. You instead catch a short, rhythmic beat on the breeze–the clop of horse hoof against grass.
“There he is.” Sigrid grumbles.

[https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lpnE7L94B8w]

File: 216.png (19 KB, 1280x564)

19 KB PNG

You watch a figure crest over a hill in the sea–a man riding atop a six-legged horse, wild mane of hair catching the wind, dancing in it. The old man does not resemble a god in the least–hunched back, sloped brow, untamed white hair–..no, he looks more like a naked old man, actually. Your master stiffens up next to you.
“Lady Sigrid, is that really..?” You begin, but your master elbows you in the gut, her subtle signal for you to shut up.

The old man brings his horse to a slow amble, hooves kicking up clods of dirt as he rides up before you. You have to crane your head up to meet the old man’s eyes–standing overhead, he seems to block the sun, casting a long shadow over the pair of you–though you can’t make out much beneath the sag of his brows.
>”Sigrid de Hautdesert. It’s been a while, has it not?” The old man’s voice is.. strange, to say the least. The way it resounds in your head–.. less like he’s speaking to you and more like he’s somehow in your mind.

“It has.” Your lady responds tersely.
>”About 1312 days, by my measure.” He leans in, almost bored. “And who’s this? Achk–.. what was your name again..? Bobbington? Snuff Sigurdsonn..? Bezwzględny Pietraszkiewicz? Something like that. How have you been, my boy? Keeping out of trouble?”
You wait for the usual spiel of responses to pour into your mind in response–.. but nothing does. Your brow furrows–something’s off.. What’s he done?

>”What’s wrong? Waiting for something?” He grins at you. “If you’re going to say something, say it yourself.”

>>5885093
"Hey, old man. Thanks for that 'help' in the dungeon."

File: Spoiler Image (1.9 MB, 10000x10000)

1.9 MB JPG

>>5885093
>"You're a big guy."

>>5885093
Hold up one leg and fart really loudly.

"May the wind ever grace your presence."

>>5885093
>"Why do you call me, 'my boy'? Who am I to you really?"

>>5885093
“Back in the dungeon - may I ask why you would intervene?”

>>5885093
>"No, I'm getting into as much trouble as possible actually. Seeking out trouble."

>>5885268
Kek. This is good. Adding it to >>5885098

>>5885093

>>5885268
>>5885093
+1

File: 217.gif (238 KB, 1280x720)

238 KB GIF

>>5885098
>>5885107
>>5885111
>>5885131
>>5885167
>>5885268
>>5885295
>>5885327

"No, I'm getting into as much trouble as possible actually. Seeking out trouble." You ignore try to ignore the strange mental perturbation. “And thanks for that 'help' in the dungeon. You really made a mess back there."
>”Trouble? Good. A little mischief suits you.” The old man leans in, the wrinkle of his eyes betraying a smile beneath his beard. “As for the dungeon.. I just happened to be passing through this world back then. I thought I might play along with your little quest.”

“Snuff..” Your master begins to warn you, but the god cuts her short.
>”It’s quite alright. You ought to let the boy speak if he wants to.” Leshy waves off her concerns. “Now.. what is you brought me out here for, Sigrid? I was riding through the wilds of the most fascinating world when you thought it fit to drag me out to the boondocks–dark and cold, still as the grave, but with the most beautiful monsters you could imagine..”

“We are.. here to make an imploration, Leshy.” Your master takes deep, slow breaths between every beard, her voice firm. “..I need a strand of your beard hair.”

>”A strand of beard hair? It figures. I thought you looked a little shorter than usual.” The god guffaws. “Well.. it won’t come easy. The people in this world make fortunes selling and trading in my detritus. Do you have something to offer me? Something worth it? I’ve no particular interest in gold or magic from this world. Or.. how about you, boy?” He turns his gaze toward you. “Have you something to give in exchange for your master’s wishes? It had better be valuable.”

>>5885559
On us? Tell him a joke.

That we can get? One of our sacred treasures.

>>5885559
>>5885567
+1 but our specialty is chicken jokes

>>5885567
>A chicken joke
if that fails
>An autographed poster of the Great Witch herself!
The two most valuable things we own.

>>5885559
Oh god
It rends the heart to offer a poster
But it's all we have

>>5885572
+1

>>5885559
How about some of our most valuable Duckworth outfits. While our master our the halfwit couldn't recognize their worth surely the Lenshy would appreciate them.

File: 218.gif (4.55 MB, 1267x373)

4.55 MB GIF

>>5885567
>>5885572
>>5885817
>>5885883
>>5885884
>>5886178

“I see. An offering?” You place a hand your chin–you’ll need something worth equal measure to a god.. “Then.. one of my best jokes. Why did the chicken cross the road?”
>”To get to the fool’s house.” Leshy responds in turn. “Knock-knock.”
“..Who’s there?” You ask.
>”The chicken.”

“Ahck–” You wince. You fell victim to one of the god’s mental tricks–how naive of you. “Then–.. then.. how about a poster of the Great Witch Sigrid de Hautdesert herself..?! A good one, too–from my private collection.” You might’ve offered an autographed poster, but you don’t actually have any.
>”I’m afraid I’ve already seen all your posters–both savory and unsavory.” Leshy regards you with a shrug. Your master shoots you a befuddled look. “But.. no. Without anything of equal value to trade, then we’ll have to resort to contest, I’m afraid.”

The old man reaches over the side of his horse, and–seemingly from nowhere–draws a large axe from his side. The weapon measures near your height in length and breadth.
>“We shall play a beheading game for my beard hair.” The god hefts the immense axe over his shoulder with ease. “Your master will strike for my neck. Then I, for hers. What say you?”

>>5886347
>You might have trouble with that at her current height.

>>5886347
>"But you're a god! How can she trim the beard of a god?"

>>5886347
"I have complete and utter faith in my Master inevitable success!"

>>5886347
>"I'll take on this contest myself. You and I shall play the beheading game."

>>5886347
>>5886352
+1
Remember what Sigrid said about going with the flow and all that.

>>5886347
>>5886352
>>5886393
>"You might have trouble with that at her current height."
>"I'll take on this contest myself. You and I shall play the beheading game."

File: 219.png (18 KB, 716x568)

18 KB PNG

>>5886352
>>5886383
>>5886391
>>5886393
>>5886440
>>5886475

“My lady may have some trouble with that at her current height.” You look to your master, who still resembles a grouchy snail. “I can take on this contest myself–play along with this ‘beheading ga–”
“No, Snuff.” Sigrid barks, more force in her voice than usual. “I’ll do it.”

>”That’s right. You’re not the one after my beard hair, are you, boy?” Leshy grins. “This isn’t your quest, is it? It’s hers. You’re just along for the ride.”
You’d open your mouth to protest, but your master seems intent that you don’t involve yourself in this.

>”Now.. it’s only sporting that you strike first. I was the one to propose the contest, after all.” The old man swings the axe up with a grunt and holds it out to your master–but strangely, as she takes it up in her hands, the weight of the axe seems to shift to accommodate her new form. Your master handles the axe with a comfortable sense of ease and finesse.

“..Okay, Leshy.” Your master hefts the axe up and down a few times in her hands, a tired look in her eyes. “Let’s get it over with. Kneel.”

>”Of course. Great Witch Sigrid.” The god regards her mockingly, kneeling in the grass before her. The hobbled, hunch-backed old man seems almost infinitely larger now than before. You feel the wind in the air run thin.
“Now..” She takes a long, deep breath, eyes shut. “..Off with your head.”

Your master swings the axe down onto the god’s neck. A spurt of blood flies from the cut and spatters her cheek. A gasp of air escapes the god’s lungs as his body collapses onto the ground. A gentle breeze rustles the grass all around you as the head rolls to his side. Your master seems all too comfortable with the killing, though you can’t say for certain all that experience comes from dealing with gods.

“There. Done.” Sigrid sighs as she turns you. “Snuff? You should turn around. You’re not going to like what happens next.”
“..Lady Sigrid?” You watch your master kneel in turn.

>Follow her wishes and turn around.
>Keep your eyes on her. What if Leshy tries something?
>Grab her hand and try to pull her away from here.
>[Write-In.]

>>5886533
>>Keep your eyes on her. What if Leshy tries something?

Oh, I get it.
She'll be fine. More portable, realy.

>>5886533
>Keep your eyes on her. What if Leshy tries something?
Don't do anything. You just need to burn what's going to happen into your mind and not react yet. There'll be time for that later.

>>5886533
>Follow her wishes and turn around.

>>5886533
>>Follow her wishes and turn around.

>>5886533
>Follow her wishes and turn around.

>>5886533
>Follow her wishes and turn around.
We'll trust Lady Sigrid. We can't do everything for her, after all.

>>5886533
>Keep your eyes on her. What if Leshy tries something?

>>5886533
>Follow her wishes and turn around.

File: 220.gif (1.41 MB, 1280x720)

1.41 MB GIF

>>5886542
>>5886544
>>5886545
>>5886550
>>5886553
>>5886557
>>5886562
>>5886587
>>5886597

“..Very well, Lady Sigrid.” You decide it best to place your trust in your master. You take a deep breath and turn around–and, for good measure, you shut your eyes.
You hold your breath as you do. You feel the gentle rustling of grass about your sabots, the lapping of the sea breeze on your face. You feel everything falling silent about you as something behind you stands up. You hear the gentle creak of bone and flesh, a thrum of fingers around wood. You hear your lady’s short, sharp gasps.

>”Have off thy helm from thine head.” Leshy’s voice rings in your head “And have here thy pay.”
You hear the swing of steel as it cuts through the air–the squelch of flesh and spatter of liquid against skin–and then a thud as it cleaves the sea. You continue to hold your breath in wait.
>"Boy.” Leshy’s voice commands. “Turn around. Take a look at your master. See what she really is."

>>5886599
>Turn around.
How could you disobey a god? What a grand and intoxicating innocence.

>>5886599
>Turn around
Master...?

>>5886599
No, I do not believe I will.

File: gnomecore.png (306 KB, 1046x1054)

306 KB PNG

Also, a slightly older drawing. Bredbeddle is a fan of gnome music.

>>5886599
We were told to go along with him, right?

>>5886599
>Dew it

>>5886599
>Turn around
>Scream internally

>>5886599
Nnnnnnnnnno!

>>5886599
>Turn around
It's the skinwalker, I'm calling it.

>>5886599
>Turn around

File: 221.gif (353 KB, 1280x720)

353 KB GIF

>>5886600
>>5886601
>>5886602
>>5886624
>>5886647
>>5886675
>>5886679
>>5887038

You take another deep breath and turn around.

Leshy holds up Sigrid’s head in his hands by the hair. It hangs limp and lifeless.

>”Stay," quoth the god, "and ye shall speedily have that which I promised ye–see your master for what she really is.”

You feel a strange pulling sensation emanating from it–drawing you to look into your master, like a swirling vortex..

File: 222.gif (1.25 MB, 1280x720)

1.25 MB GIF

You feel the primordial sea stretch to infinity all about you, grasses rising and crashing around you like waves. The sky shrinks to the size of a pinprick as the wilds dominate all else. Your body seems to go tumbling–spinning, twirling–into the endless sea of green, a seed of grain in the endless fields of the psychosphere. You are brought somewhere far, far away.

File: 223.gif (147 KB, 1280x720)

147 KB GIF

You come from the dark with a jolt, splayed out across the ground like clothes dashed out to try. You are.. somewhere unfamiliar to you.

You try to take stock of your surroundings–.. you are somewhere small, warm, cozy–it appears to be a home, perhaps..? You reach for a small table and try to pull yourself up only to bump your head against the ceiling.

You are just a little too large for the room–your hood scrapes the roof at a hunch, and you could sprawl yourself out across all the furniture with ease.

You catch a faint mildewy damp scent in the air intermingling with the scent of baking as well as a few stray voices from the other room.

>Call for Lady Sigrid.
>Call for Leshy.
>Move toward sounds of voices.
>[Write-In.]

>>5887261
>Call for Lady Sigrid.

>>5887261
>Move toward sounds of voices.

>>5887261
>Move toward sounds of voices.

>>5887261
>Move toward sounds of voices.
>Be all stealthy-like

oh so this is like her inner world where she's a kid and we realize that she's not actually a bitch she's just trying way too hard to not be her parents

>>5887261
>Move toward sounds of voices.
Damn Leshy's got a baller beard

>>5887286
Journey to the center of the mind! or maybe she just ahs huge insecurities for some other reason. Or maybe, rather than a halfling, she's... Something else?? Like a BIG NERD?

>>5887261
>>Call for Leshy.

>>5887261
>Move toward sounds of voices.
>Quietly.

File: 224.png (22 KB, 932x470)

22 KB PNG

>>5887262
>>5887272
>>5887274
>>5887284
>>5887321
>>5887425
>>5887464

>Move toward sounds of voices.
>Quietly.

You decide to play this quiet-like, moving toward the sound of voices with your feet light and head low (more a result of the low ceiling, but still). You find the home around you very lived-in: etchings in the wall in crayon, wooden toys scattered along the flooring, discolored patches in furniture, all the walls done up in countless frames and photos.. it reminds you of your own home back in the country.
You find a scent wafting past as you approach the voices–something sweet and savory all at once–and the sound of voices mixes with clattering pots and pans. You gently ease past the crook of one wall to peer into the next room over, where you’re near bowled over by a pair of halfling kids.
The kids seem too stuck in their world to notice your presence, blowing down into the hall in the midst of a game of tag. The kitchen before you is rife with many just like them–girls and boys, children and infants, shouting over each other and playing games and picking their noses. The one stood at the stove–a head or two taller than the rest–is simultaneously stirring and lidding about seven pots at once while cradling a baby in the crook of her arm and shouting down at the rest of them.

“Luckiwise, put that down. It’s hot.” Her voice is firm despite the exhaustion written in her face. “Maybell–no–there’s no lizardman cheese left. You’ll have to make due like the rest of us. And for gods’ sake, Brandibuck, would you go fetch Bertie?”
“Yeah, yeah, gimme a sec, ma..” Brandibuck, a young boy halfling sat at a massive round table, seems to be in the midst of an intense card game with himself.

>Make your presence known.
>Attempt to get fetch ‘Bertie’ yourself.
>[Write-In.]

>>5888128
>Make your presence known.

>>5888128
>>Attempt to get fetch ‘Bertie’ yourself.

>>5888128
>Look around for our master
Which one of these kids is her, huh? Or is her witch name an affectation, like Bobbington/Snuff?

>>5888128
>>Attempt to get fetch ‘Bertie’ yourself.

>>5888128
>Make your presence known.
>Tell them that they're cool people, not like those nasty gnomes.

File: 225.gif (827 KB, 955x372)

827 KB GIF

>>5888136
>>5888152
>>5888244
>>5888338
>>5888566

>Attempt to go fetch ‘Bertie’ yourself.
>Look around for our master

You do a brief scan around the kitchen–halflings, one and all, short and freckly and hairy–but your master does not seem to number among them. You would recognize her keen glare and heavy eyebags out of any crowd of half-feet. You decide to instead try your hand around the rest of the hovel.
You creep away from the kitchen, down a few round tunnels and into a hallway–this one in particular is a real mess, a far cry from the relative cleanliness of the rest of the house. The floor is rife with balls and books and wax crayons, spatters of paint on the wall and plates along the ground. The hall is lined with doors, each embossed with a small aluminum plaque–you recognize some of these names from the kitchen.
You read the plates as you pass–Maybell, Pippinack, Marleberry, Applewink, Billicup, Brandibuck.. and at the very end of the hall, above a dim and dusty door, is a nameplate that reads “Bertilak.” You glance it up and down–the door slightly askew–before slowly peering in through the crack.

The room is a right mess–books piled high in every corner atop every piece of furniture from bed to shelf, strange wooden stick effigies hanging by twine from the ceiling, and all manner of odd trinkets and baubles decorating the floor. The room is dark and kind of creepy, distinct from the warm homeliness of the rest of the home.
And in the center of the room, elbow deep in a small toy chest, is a young halfling–eyes heavy and dark, brown hair tangled and knotted over her eyes. The girl’s got a sharper look in her eyes than the others you saw at the dining table–more bitter, a little red. She glances over her shoulder back at you as the door creaks.
“Snuff, there you–..” The halfling begins, before realizing the situation. “Snuff?! What the hell are you doing inside my head!?”
“Leshy brought me in, Lady.. Sigrid..? Is that.. you?” You squint in shock. “You–you’ve gotten smaller! Your condition seems to be getting worse..”

“I’m not getting smaller. I’m just young again. I’m–we’re–in a memory.” Your master rubs her eyes. “And it’s not a ‘condition.’ I’m just a halfling.”

>Ask to know what’s going on and what she’s doing.
>Pinch her cheeks.
>Try calling her Bertie.
>[Write-In.]

>>5889067
>Pinch her cheeks.
D'aww~
>Ask to know what’s going on and what she’s doing.
Sorry, couldn't help myself

>>5889071
>Try calling her Bertie.
>Ask to know what’s going on and what she’s doing.
"So, Bertie -- I mean, MASTER Bertie -- what's going n? Are you... Dead? Did Leshy kill you?"

>>5889067
>Ask to know what’s going on and what she’s doing.
>”Also, I’m glad your head wasn’t actually chopped off, Master… although…”
>Pinch her cheeks to make sure her head is still on.

>>5889067
>>Pinch her cheeks.
>>Ask to know what’s going on and what she’s doing.

>>5889112
>>5889100
>>5889071
>all this cheek pinching
Didn't go well for Mort over in Redhorn...

File: 226.png (11 KB, 935x374)

11 KB PNG

>>5889071
>>5889085
>>5889100
>>5889112
>>5889130

>Ask to know what’s going on and what she’s doing.
>”Also, I’m glad your head wasn’t actually chopped off, Master… although…”
>Pinch her cheeks to make sure her head is still on.

“My lady..! It really is you!” You’d recognize that sheer exhaustion and irritation anywhere! You breathe a sigh of relief. “I’m relieved to see your head wasn’t chopped off, but.. What’s going on..? Where are we?”
“We’re in my head.” Sigrid sighs, returning to rooting through the toy chest. “It’s a beheading game, Snuff–Leshy chops your head off and drags you into your own memories. You have to escape by passing through memories–lapsing them, as it were, by breaking the sequen–HEY.”

Your master suddenly snaps at you as you reach out to pinch her cheeks, biting down onto your hand hard. You wince in pain as you shrivel back. “Achk–”
“Ahem. E-..excuse the outburst.” Your lady clears her throat. “I remember you–everything, of course–but.. the magic of the memory influences how you act. And at this age, I tended toward biting people. So please refrain from doing anything strange. I’d rather you not influence my head in weird ways.”

“..My apologies.” You bow your head, making a mental note not to pinch her cheeks in this memory. “Then in that case, Lady Bertilak.. what are you doing?”
“Like I said, we have to try to break out of the memory by lapsing it–doing something in this memory I couldn’t possibly fathom and passing into another memory. Unfortunately, that’s a lot harder than just going somewhere I never went or doing something I never did. My fantastic intellect means that I can imagine innumerable scenarios and fill in lots of gaps myself.. so I have to try and be creative about this. I’m looking for anything that might help.” Your master grimaces. “And Snuff?”

“Yes, Lady Bertilak?” You ask her. “Or.. would you prefer Bertie, or..?”
“If you ever call me Lady Bertilak or Bertie again, I’ll renounce your apprenticeship.” She hisses. “Never, ever call me that again. My name is Sigrid de Hautdesert.”

>Help her root through the chest.
>Look around her room for something.
>Attempt to cast a spell.
>Ask about her family. It seems a lot like yours.
>Suggest your own means of breaking her memory. [Write-In.]
>[Write-In.]

>>5889189
>Bite her back in this new game of Bertie-Biter.
>Ask how many times she's done this before.
>The beheading game, not biting people.

>>5889189
>”…wait, Master? If you don’t like going by that name, wouldn’t you pretending to prefer going by that name in here be something that you couldn’t conceive of, thus getting you into the next memory? Or is it more of that at this point of time, that name didn’t have the baggage that came with it from later situations, thus rendering using that name on purpose pointless?”
>Ask about her family. It seems a lot like yours.

>>5889189
>Apologize profusely and urgently
Our apprenticeship! NOOO!

>Ask about her family. It seems a lot like yours.
>Suggest your own means of breaking her memory
If her response to her birth name and her similarities to us reflect a similar family dynamic, probably the most shocking/memory-breaking thing she could do is make up with her mom or dad or whoever she begrudges. She much bregrudge SOMEONE enough to change her name and turn her old one into a "dead" name... Unless she just really goddamn hates the name "Bertilak", which is also pretty reasonable desu.

>>5889191
>biting our master
>calling her Bertie again
You're gonna' get us replaced by that full-elf rival of ours, anon.

>>5889189
>Attempt to cast a spell.
Good to know if we can or not
I'm sure even she can't imagine the full range of possibilities our wild magic can realize.

Also why didn't she let us play in her place? We're way dumber UH I MEAN more imaginative, we could break out easy with a little heads up.

>>5889189
>Help her root through the chest.
>Ask about her family. It seems a lot like yours.
>Attempt to cast a spell.

>>5889189
>Ask about her family. It seems a lot like yours.

>>5889191
>>5889208
>>5889216
>>5889219
>>5889224
>>5889228
>>5889294

>Ask about her family. It seems a lot like yours.
>”…wait, Master? If you don’t like going by that name, wouldn’t you pretending to prefer going by that name in here be something that you couldn’t conceive of, thus getting you into the next memory? Or is it more of that at this point of time, that name didn’t have the baggage that came with it from later situations, thus rendering using that name on purpose pointless?”
>Attempt to cast a spell.

You watch your master take to digging through her toy chest (presumably on the lookout for any old trinket to do.. something with) while you lean against the doorway, brainstorming. “So.. my lady..” You remember not to mess up the name. “This is the first time I’ve ever seen your family. You never mention them in any interviews, but.. they seem nice. They seem a lot like mine, actually.”

“Well, they’re not like yours, Snuff.” Sigrid tosses a small glass bottle over her shoulder. “This memory–.. I came home from school one evening to find my mother had thrown my books on witchcraft into the hearth. Said she thought I’d grown out of them and needed kindling. Didn’t even bother to apologize. Got into a big argument with her over it, so I locked myself in my room for the night and refused to come out for second dinner.”
“..I see.” You can’t imagine. Your father spilt olive oil on your wizard’s cape once and had sewn you a new one right away.

“I sobbed all night over it.” Her voice drips with bitterness. “My mother thought I was wasting my time on a hopeless endeavor. My siblings treated me like a monster–called me a lich freak. This is the night I swore I’d become a witch, no matter what it took. And I did. And they’re still getting fat on breakfast cakes in some muddy, wormy hole in the ground.”
“So.. that’s why you refuse to go by Bert–er, that name, Lady Sigrid..?” You ask.

File: 227.gif (479 KB, 1280x720)

479 KB GIF

“No. It’s because Bertilak is an awful name.” Sigrid scoffs. “Bertie.. just ugly. Bleh. I took the nom de sorcellerie Sigrid from my favorite witch, Sigrun la Sylvestris of the Lake. I actually based some elements of my human form off her appearance as well."
“Oh. I see.” You nod. It is kind of an ugly name. You decide to turn your attention to more important matters, however–removing your dyadic wand from your frock, you feel the familiar sensation of coursing WILD MAGIC through your veins. You may be able to use your wild card magic to your master’s advantage.

>Telepathic Bond: You forge a telepathic link among up to eight willing creatures of your choice within range, psychically linking each creature to all the others for the duration. You can communicate telepathically through the bond whether or not they have a common language and project images into others’ minds.
>Project Image: You create an illusory copy of yourself that lasts for the duration. The copy can appear at any location within range that you have seen before, regardless of intervening obstacles. The illusion looks and sounds like you but is intangible. You can use your action to move this illusion up to twice your speed, and make it gesture, speak, and behave in whatever way you choose. It mimics your mannerisms perfectly and you can see through its eyes and hear through its ears as if you were in its space.
>Modify Memory: You attempt to reshape another creature's memories. You can affect the target's memory of an event that it experienced within the last 24 hours and that lasted no more than 10 minutes. You can permanently eliminate all memory of the event, allow the target to recall the event with perfect clarity and exacting detail, change its memory of the details of the event, or create a memory of some other event.
>Dispel the spells. You see no need to cast anything.
>[Write-In.]

Man these are all interesting spells. I bet Modify Memory has the potential to kill them both lmao. Could it help otherwise in jarring the memory?
Telepathic Bond could be for spooking or deceiving them, but would it work on a memory?
Project Image could be useful if we want to spare Sigrid from having to do things herself. Or we could do some shenanigans somehow.
Honestly I don't know, I'll leave it up to smarter anons on what we should pick.

>>5889384
>Modify Memory: You attempt to reshape another creature's memories. You can affect the target's memory of an event that it experienced within the last 24 hours and that lasted no more than 10 minutes. You can permanently eliminate all memory of the event, allow the target to recall the event with perfect clarity and exacting detail, change its memory of the details of the event, or create a memory of some other event.
We can use this to create an implausible event which our master couldn't conceive of. maybe something like... her idol, Sigrun la Sylvestris of the Lake, arriving to spirit her away and turn her mother into a newt for disrespecting her youthful enthusiasm?

>>5889384
>>Telepathic Bond: You forge a telepathic link among up to eight willing creatures of your choice within range, psychically linking each creature to all the others for the duration. You can communicate telepathically through the bond whether or not they have a common language and project images into others’ minds.

>>5889384
>Telepathic Bond: You forge a telepathic link among up to eight willing creatures of your choice within range, psychically linking each creature to all the others for the duration. You can communicate telepathically through the bond whether or not they have a common language and project images into others’ minds.
Wonder how it works to read the mind of a memory

>>5889384
>Telepathic Bond: You forge a telepathic link among up to eight willing creatures of your choice within range, psychically linking each creature to all the others for the duration. You can communicate telepathically through the bond whether or not they have a common language and project images into others’ minds.

>>5889384
>Modify Memory: You attempt to reshape another creature's memories. You can affect the target's memory of an event that it experienced within the last 24 hours and that lasted no more than 10 minutes. You can permanently eliminate all memory of the event, allow the target to recall the event with perfect clarity and exacting detail, change its memory of the details of the event, or create a memory of some other event.

>>5889384
>Modify Memory

>>5889384
>Telepathic Bond

File: 228.png (44 KB, 579x1290)

44 KB PNG

>>5889438
>>5889465
>>5889484
>>5889524
>>5889706
>>5889708
>>5889723
>>5889902

>Telepathic Bond: You forge a telepathic link among up to eight willing creatures of your choice within range, psychically linking each creature to all the others for the duration. You can communicate telepathically through the bond whether or not they have a common language and project images into others’ minds.

You settle on telepathic bond--neurons sparking and brain crackling, magic sparks flows from your cortex into your spine and through to your fingertips. You feel the telepathic pathways extend like tendrils from your wand and brain and sprawl like an octopus out across the room.

"Telepathic Bond." You try to control the electric tendrils, but they break from your grasp for just a moment, undulating and squirming for the nearest thought.

You feel just the briefest crackle as your tendrils connect with your master's--interlinking your thoughts with her brain, causing her thoughts to seep into yours--before the connection breaks. Your master shoots you a glance.

"Telepathic Bond? Really?" Sigrid scoffs. "I hope you're not planning on looking any deeper into my brain. You're standing in it."

>Ask to connect with Lady Sigrid again.
>Reach out to her family.
>Recall the spell.
>[Write-In.]

>>5890118
>Reach out to her family.
If we're doing this, we're doing this. let's see how it even works in here!

>>5890118
>Reach out to her family.
The Halfling Mind Network begins NOW

>>5890118
>Reach out to her family.

>>5890118
>reach out to the senpai

>>5890118
>Reach out to her family.
Some interesting thoughts she has, "miss my tits" is killing me.

File: 229.gif (104 KB, 1279x381)

104 KB GIF

>>5890166
>>5890170
>>5890182
>>5890209
>>5891173

>Reach out to her family.

“I may be able to manage a lapse if I could connect with your family–seeing what they’ve got going on inside their head may be the break in perspective necessary, my lady.” You focus your thoughts, tendrils thrumming out from your wand and curling into the next room over, odd memories and ideas undulating beneath your brain..
“If you’re looking for an emotional breakthrough from one of my family members in the hopes that they embrace and accept me, it’s not going to happen.” Sigrid scoffs. “I might remind you that this isn’t time travel, Snuff, this is a memory. The ghosts in the other room aren’t really my family, but what I remember of them–and the thoughts you read of theirs represent what I think they thought, not what they actually thought. I’ve a good read on people, and the memory might seem real–but this is nowhere close to the real thing. This is all a simulacrum of my reality, not how it actually is.”
You feel your thoughts gently ease and connect with your lady’s, and then with her family, one by one in a pool of hazy memory and thought. Your master was right: unlike her own, the thoughts of her memory family are less complex, more flat and two-dimensional. You don’t suppose she thought much of them–or, thought they thought much of her, as confusing as it is trying to wrap your head around the situation. You are at least sure that the spell has done its job, at least.

>Try to connect her mother’s thoughts with her.
>Try to project her current memories to her family.
>Project your mental image of a bikini-clad Sigrid to the family.
>[Write-In.]

>>5891196
>Try to connect her mother’s thoughts with her.
>Try to project her current memories to her family.
Confront her mother with an image of the Great Witch Sigrid de Hautdesert in all her glory, and see how she addresses the knowledge that she was wrong about her daughter.

Worth a go?

>>5891196
>>5891196
>Try to project a mental image of Sigrid today. Not her human persona, but her as she truly is.
Maybe the family would be more happy to see her halfling self rather than the fake one?

>>5891196
>Try to connect her mother’s thoughts with her.

>>5891196
>>Try to project a mental image of Sigrid today. Not her human persona, but her as she truly is.

>>5891196
>Try to project a mental image of Sigrid today. Not her human persona, but her as she truly is.
Which obviously means bikini-clad

>>5891196
Sigrid thinks at least one family member believes elves are fake? Huh.

>Try to project a mental image of a bikini clad elven apprentice rival.

>Try to connect her mother’s thoughts with her.
Feedback loop lets goooo
Sell the idea as uh confronting her unconscious biases or something.

>>5891409
>Sell the idea as uh confronting her unconscious biases or something.
You think she'd buy that? Anyway that's a based idea man.

File: 230.gif (3.36 MB, 1280x720)

3.36 MB GIF

>>5891222
>>5891257
>>5891331
>>5891368
>>5891385
>>5891409
>>5891553

>Try to connect her mother’s thoughts with her.
>Try to project a mental image of Sigrid today. Not her human persona, but her as she truly is.
>Sell the idea as uh confronting her unconscious biases or something.

"Ah--I've got an idea, Lady Sigrid." You thumb through the index of minds and thoughts available to you. “What I were to link your brain with your mother’s..? You know–project a mental image of you as you are today to her–not your human persona, but you as you truly are. You can–.. you know.. confront your unconscious bi–”
“You don’t need to bullshit me Snuff.” Your master waves her hand. “I can see the idea. You can write a feedback loop–I think of what my mother thinks of me as what I think of me as what my mother thinks of me, so on and so forth, ad infinitum. It’s a clever idea. But risky–I’ve only been able to intuit the mechanics of this memory world from past experiences, and I’ve no clue as to what mental magic like that could do while I’m in my own mind. This is the first time I’ve ever had another spellcaster with me during a memory..”

“You’d rather I not do it, then..?” You ask, hand careful on the tendril that connects their thoughts.
“The greatest developments in all of magic history have never once come from first asking for permission. Just do it. I trust you not to fry my brain. Sever the connection if you feel anything amiss.” Your master grimaces. “The best case scenario is that we get out of this scene fast. The worst case is that I start acting and speaking like my mother. Please kill me if that happens.”
“Of course, my lady.” You bow your head as you plug the two minds together.

The connection comes between the two like wires crossing–neurons sparking, electricity flowing, you feel thoughts ebbing and flowing between the two. You project a mental image of your lady–as unbiased and grounded in reality as you can manage–between the two links. And just like your master said, her perception of her mother’s perception of her perception of her mother’s perception begins to bounce between the two heads. The neural network crackles with light as the ground beneath you seems to undulate and sink. The walls fade into swirling wet paint, the floorboards curling up about you like a wooden embrace.

You feel that same tugging, pulling sensation you felt when you first saw your lady’s head, and you begin crossing into another passing memory.

File: 230.png (14 KB, 708x255)

14 KB PNG

You come to with a jolt on the floor. You lift your head groggily, rail spikes pounding into your head with each breath. You try to shake the sensation off as a voice cuts through the haze of pain.
“The good news is you didn’t fry my brain.” Sigrid sits atop a bunk before you, eyes low. “The bad news is that I wish you had.”

You begin to take stock of your surroundings as you reorient. The room is redolent with the smell of ink and bullywug acid. You see oaken panels flooring the ground, a domed ceiling yawning above you. The room is messy: stacks of papers and half-empty bottles lining the shelves and floors, books spilling over themselves from off the shelves, the mattress hanging like a fat white tongue off the nook. You find your eyes drawn to the colorful tapestries lining the wall, lit up with posters of various witches and wizards, flyers for capitol delis and restaurants, school assignments..
“Ahh–..ahh!” Your face lights up in recognition and delight. “We’re at St. August’s Conservatory! Ah..! I missed this place!”

“We are. This was my dorm room.” Your master looks.. different. Her last form had that kind of half-foot charm as they clumsily grow into themselves–eyes and ears a bit too big for themselves, almost rabbit-like–but she seems to have quickly outgrown it. Her hair is a matted mess, her eyes are lined with dark bags, and she exudes a kind of creepy greasiness. She reminds you a bit of a creepy lizardwoman stalker you had back at the conservatory, actually..

>Ask Sigrid about the memory.
>Take a moment to enjoy the conservatory setting. It’s been a while since you’ve been here.
>Ask Sigrid why she looks like that. Is the memory really that awful?
>Get to casting. You’ve got to hurry out of here!
>[Write-In.]

>>5891617
>Take a moment to enjoy the conservatory setting. It’s been a while since you’ve been here.
>Try not to think about the lizardwoman. You had to start wearing a hood to keep your loose hairs safe...

>>5891617
>Take a moment to enjoy the conservatory setting. It’s been a while since you’ve been here.
>Try not to think about the lizardwoman. You had to start wearing a hood to keep your loose hairs safe...
>Ask Sigrid why she looks like that. Is the memory really that awful?

>>5891617
>>5891634
+1

>>5891645
+1

>>5891617
>Take a moment to enjoy the conservatory setting. It’s been a while since you’ve been here.
>Try not to think about the lizardwoman. You had to start wearing a hood to keep your loose hairs safe...
>Ask Sigrid why she looks like that. Is the memory really that awful?

>>5891617
>Take a moment to enjoy the conservatory setting. It’s been a while since you’ve been here.

>>5891617
>Ask Sigrid why she looks like that. Is the memory really that awful?
I bet she got bullied

File: 231.png (21 KB, 503x908)

21 KB PNG

>>5891634
>>5891645
>>5891653
>>5891655
>>5891656
>>5891773

>Take a moment to enjoy the conservatory setting. It’s been a while since you’ve been here.
>Try not to think about the lizardwoman. You had to start wearing a hood to keep your loose hairs safe...
>Ask Sigrid why she looks like that. Is the memory really that awful?

You take a moment to breathe in the air and admire the atmosphere: the scent of magic suffusing the alchemical reagents in the air, the thrum of motor carriage wheels against cobble from the capitol streets, and the cool breeze of the Phorsyic that wafts by every now and then. You love your master and the chapel, of course, and you wouldn’t trade your position for the world, but still..
The chapel is a still and quiet place, a corpse overgrown by flowers and chickens where your housemates are quiet and distant. The conservatory is a live and restless body, one where students and teachers alike study and work and trade spells and cause disasters–it wasn’t uncommon for one or two students to die every week, and a major incident to occur every two to three weeks.

You can think of no magic academy that comes close to the conservatory’s statue, and it was the danger and death of all of it that led to those very breakthroughs. You had your studies, friends, research opportunities.. you were actually on track to TA for a course on the biology of beasts with magic organelles (a course with a 35% mortality rate) until your apprenticeship was given former approval.
Your apprenticeship’s approval came not a minute too soon–you were the subject of affection for a very pushy lizardfolk classmate whose lust for you had begun to spiral out of control. You’ve no quarrel against lizardfolk nor prejudice for their appearance–and you thought her nice enough–but when you found bits of skin she’d shed in the omelets she gifted you, you’d been a little grossed out.

Actually, where did the eggs for those omelets come from..? You push the thought out of your mind immediately and refocus. “You look a little.. unkempt, my lady.” You try to be nice about it. “A rough morning?”
“No. I always looked like this. The wizards and witches at the cutting edge of magic don’t have time to fret over appearances–they’re too busy working.” Your master snorts with derision. “I only began to take care of myself after I was given the title great: showering daily, combing and curling my hair, applying makeup, wearing different outfits.. it’s all a massive hassle for public appearances. I kind of miss this. No, this is the day I was expelled from the conservatory for the first time. Where the title “the Disinherited” comes from..“

>Ask for details. Anything to help work on breaking her out of it.
>Begin conjuring up a spell. You’d better get to work on breaking this memory fast.
>Try to remember the details of how conservatory expulsion works.
>Wait, where did those omelet eggs come from?
>[Write-In.]

>>5892172
>Ask for details. Anything to help work on breaking her out of it.
>Try to remember the details of how conservatory expulsion works.

>>5892172
>Ask for details. Anything to help work on breaking her out of it.
>Try to remember the details of how conservatory expulsion works.