The Story So Far

One month ago, the Duke of Somnenblume called upon you - Dame Louise le Blanc - to muster your men-at-arms and assist the mountain folk in purging an apostate cult of the Dark One from the Highlands. Aided by Sir Damien and Dame Fiona of the sorcerous (and mildly heretical) Order of the Imaginary Color, you uncovered their stronghold amidst an abandoned village fallen to ruin. With the warriors of the highlands flanking on one side, and you men-at-arms pushing from the other, you successfully purged the ruins of Orc and Goblin and Cultist alike.

However, this bloody work was not without casualty. At the heart of their stronghold, at the top of an old tower of the Gardeners, you confronted an enemy that you were not prepared to face. A lieutenant of the Witch of Depravity, third of her seven knights:

[Justinia, the Arbiter]

She nearly killed one of your men at arms in a single blow, leaving him with a cursed wound. Her presence alone brought your men-at-arms to their knees, with only your unfaltering faith in the LORD of Light allowing you to stand. You dueled with her for the life of your men, a duel you could not win by ordinary means, even with the handicap she gave herself. She toyed with you the entire time, stripping you of your armor and tearing up the armorsilks you wore below. However, her arrogance proved to be her downfall.

With each blow deflected, you chipped away at the supports of the roof. Before Justinia could strike her final blow, you managed to collapse the roof - not on her, but on the cultists she swore an oath to protect. To protect them, she had to violate the terms of your duel. Such an underhanded victory amused her, and as a former knight she took pride in honoring her word. She left with the cultists, but not before leaving you with a wound of your own, and a "gift".

Scarred with an inhuman eye and a stigmata of black vines and blood red roses upon your left arm, you consulted with Sir Damien upon the nature of the cursed mark. He determined that the curse lay upon your inner psyche, and concocted a khemical to help you confront it and reveal its nature.

That khemical brought you into the bowels of your memories, settling upon the day that you first met King Arthur rois Jonquille and were raised from humble man-at-arms to knight. Exploring the memory revealed its true nature as a labyrinth of your conscious thought, its imperfections looping upon themselves as you wandered halls you never visited until at last you found a grand door that lead to your heart of hearts.

Beyond the doors, you found a void of calm and soothing darkness, intruded upon by a vile obscenity of a woman. A harlot of harlots, a mother of demons, the image of the divine feminine twisted into a pornographic mockery of womanhood. There could only be one name for the person that stood before you:

[Anahita, Witch of Depravity]

Iron chains of the Witch's creation held you back as you fought her shade in the depths of your mind, wielding a sword forged from your imagination. Faith alone gave you strength in that place, but the Witch held peerless mastery of the dreams and of the mind. Like her knight, she played with you, though unlike Justinia - who had a semblance of honor and propriety - she did not hesitate to provoke you with perversion and mockery.

Perhaps because she thought that she already won. In this realm of dreams, you would have been especially vulnerable to the devil-curse that her knight inflicted upon you. But when the Witch went to reveal your "master", what should have been a devil of chains and enslavement was instead a reflection of yourself. Thoughts and passions that you had suppressed given form, and a voice you had been mistaking for a demon all the while.

Together with her, you drew the form of the ultimate weapon. A weapon from your childhood, an imaginary thing created for games played with your friends that always cut down whatever monster stood in its way. A foolish weapon with a foolish name: The Litany of Blackrose. Yet in a space made of dreams, you could not have asked for a more reliable weapon in hand - after all, the dark cannon-scythe had cut down billions of demons in its time.

With it, you drove off the Witch. She said many strange things as she faded away, of Curse Inversion and of charcoal, of the Throne of Depravity and a place beyond heaven, and of the City of Depravity, Shar Saboten.

All of this sat heavy on your shoulders once you awoke.

In the tower's newly restored bath house, you confided your worries in your closest friend, the artifex Hilde - a woman as short and curvaceous as you are tall and muscled. Dame Fiona joined you as well, offering some of her wisdom and knowledge of magics and khemistry. Hilde brought her brandy, and the three of you may have gotten so drunk that when you were called from the baths to a meeting, you nearly made a fool of yourself.

In front of the King. Or, well, on sending with the King, which uses figments well enough that you're quite sure he realized that you were not sober. Especially after you stabbed a certain clown of a woman with word shivs for intruding upon the camp and making an overall mockery of diplomatic negotiations.

That woman happened to be the Princeps Amalia, an imperial cur who happens to hold a rank roughly equivalent to the Duke of Somnenblume. Why was she dressed like a clown? Why do imperials do anything? The Senatus Populusque Rosarius is - from everything you have been told - less a body politic and more an insane asylum being run by the inmates. You suppose it's fortunate that Amalia found you an amusement and curiosity rather than an irritation.

She might have done something unreasonable otherwise. Then swords would have gotten drawn and the camp's peace would have been broken like a fallen piece of glass.

The meeting adjourned with you being given a new rank, and a new mission. The King elevated you to Baroness in order to get around some treaty or another that regulates the powers you used against the Witch of Depravity, which Sir Damien called an "Opus". On the King's orders, you returned to your home of Liliendorf to meet with one of his diplomats, the Earl of Lavendel. A journey that went without incident but for running into a cadre of half-giants, with whom you exchanged poetry for the right to cross an old bridge.

In Liliendorf, you've made plans for your trip to Rosarium with the Earl, and knit an ugly scarf with your mother and sisters. The Knitting Circle happens to be the women's equivalent of the Lodges where menfolk gather to do menfolk things, and they heard a little rumor that you need to follow up on. Supplies for the Road Beneath, being gathered by your youngest sister's urchin of a suitor, and paid for in gold coins that he certainly could not have stashed away over any amount of time.

Which has lead you to young Lothar's lair, an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of the village that he's claimed as his workshop and home. The boy looks positively like a child whose hand has been caught in the cookie-jar as you confront him over the matter. Roll Diplomacy or Intimidate, 1d20
>You want to know everything the Earl has told him about his plans (Intimidate)
>He's going to tell you the exact contents of the supplies, because you're his liege. (Intimidate)
>You'll put in a good word with your mother if he tells you what he thinks is going on. (Diplomacy)
>The only thing you want to know is who asked him to make the purchases, that shouldn't be too much. (Diplomacy)
>If he's sworn to secrecy on where everything is and their contents... can he tell you where they will be? (Diplomacy)
>(Write in)
>+Use a Token of the Quill

Rolled 18 (1d20)

>>5915521
>>You'll put in a good word with your mother if he tells you what he thinks is going on. (Diplomacy)

>>5915521
>He's going to tell you the exact contents of the supplies, because you're his liege. (Intimidate)

>>5915513
Give us our special armor you skank

Rolled 6 (1d20)

>>5915542

Rolled 8 (1d20)

>>5915521
>You'll put in a good word with your mother if he tells you what he thinks is going on. (Diplomacy)

it might also be worth explaining how it was noticed, and for him to be a little more conservative with the gold, unless that was the point. As its use was noticed and was subsequently brought to our attention.

Rolled 13 (1d20)

>>5915521
>The only thing you want to know is who asked him to make the purchases, that shouldn't be too much. (Diplomacy)
naughty boy

also why no lady knight for the OP image ?

>>5915632
Zoom in.

Rolled 11 (1d20)

>>5915521
>You'll put in a good word with your mother if he tells you what he thinks is going on. (Diplomacy)

Rolled 7 (1d20)

>>5915521
>He's going to tell you the exact contents of the supplies, because you're his liege. (Intimidate)

File: Attempt at a bust of Louise.png (370 KB, 1670x1904)

370 KB PNG

>>5915542
You'll get it when it comes to you, I haven't forgotten about it. Probably when you talk to Hilde, you'll have an option of her giving your armor some upgrades, vs. a mystery box later.
>>5915632
There is a very small lady knight in the bottom left.

Also, I am slowly attempting to draw things myself. I got a tablet and everything! Here's the results of my second hour with it, a bust (no booba, sadly) of Louise.

>>5915860
>choker
Lewd.

>>5915860
>Also, I am slowly attempting to draw things myself. I got a tablet and everything!
neat, OP. I also wanna try drawing a little someday.

>>5915860
>Also, I am slowly attempting to draw things myself. I got a tablet and everything!
That's great! Once you get used to the features of whichever drawing program you use, you'll be able to do a lot with it. Having personally done some of both, digital art is WAY easier to pick up and make "professional-looking" work compared to conventional.

>>5915921
You reminded me of that MEMRI TV meme where the guy says chokers make women look like dogs or slaves.

>>5915860
proud of u

Rolled 15 (1d20)

>>5915521
>>You'll put in a good word with your mother if he tells you what he thinks is going on. (Diplomacy)

File: 0e5f86c6e1cd499942dad90b0(...).jpg (213 KB, 581x900)

213 KB JPG

>>5915521
>You'll put in a good word with your mother if he tells you what he thinks is going on. (Diplomacy)

Rolled 14 (1d20)

>>5916460

>>5915860
Nice going, QM! But those clavicles are wrong

>>5915921
She's had the choker from day 1, as that's the compacted form of her folding plate. It is a goldsteel band worn about the neck with an adamantine core. At the front sits a black diamond set in gold cut to contain mana and function as the armor's primary power source. An indication light glows in the within the diamond with the color of the wearer's mana (in Louise's case, green). As a stylistic choice, and as her right as a Knight of the Order of Holy Light, the mana indication light is shaped in the official seal of the Church of Holy Light.

It folds out upon mental command or in response to an object entering a 1 meter radius around the wearer at sufficient velocity. Ideally, it folds out over skin-tight armorsilks, as while it can fold out over other clothing, it is not designed to and has a good chance of damaging them.
>>5915922
Yeah, it's fun. Please bear with me as I try to get out of mediocrity.
>>5916187
I've been using Krita, which has treated me well thus far, though I'm not sure how to map the pallette stuff to the tablet buttons yet.

On the Memri TV stuff, the choker as folding plate is - like armorsilks - light fetish bait with Lore justification. The Order of the Imaginary Color using folding plate that specifically looks like a cold iron slave collar is heavy fetish bait with in universe Lore justification. (It's symbolic of their absolute servitude to the King that justifies the heresy they commit as part of their work).
>>5916550
Yeah, I made the mistake of drawing a without a reference for that image. I did a (probably NSFW) picture with a reference where things came out a bit better proportions wise. But hey, improving my art is a good excuse to look at naked ladies.

>>5916694
>She's had the choker from day 1,
I've wanted to snap it from day 1 as well.

>>5916694
>Yeah, it's fun. Please bear with me as I try to get out of mediocrity.
no problem OP and have you read Cursed Carrier ? qm is also an inexperienced artist and he's making his arts for the doots.

>The Order of the Imaginary Color using folding plate that specifically looks like a cold iron slave collar is heavy fetish bait with in universe Lore justification.
makes sense for heretics to do that, kek. choker fetish is one of those things that I kinda get the intent behind but it doesn't do much for me. I wonder if you'll put a group who does sex magick in the setting (the witch gooning sheshs and cuck bait doesn't count).

File: Lothar maybe.png (1.21 MB, 2028x1500)

1.21 MB PNG

Winning Option: Bribe him with a good word to your mother.
Diplomacy 18+17 = 35 vs DC 35. Success!

The little scamp stares up at you with his bright blue eyes filled with hope that his talk of oaths and secrecy will get you to drop the matter. From the way he quivers beneath your gaze, you must cut an imposing figure as you stare down at him. The tremendous height and lean, muscled figure that your bloodline is heir to have done little to bring you suitors, but when the situation calls for looming you would not give an inch off your height for an inch on your bust. Nor would you give up even a touch of your strength to broaden your appeal as a woman.

No, in the flashy and colorful townclothes that your mother prefers you wear to simple comforts of your armorsilks, the wiry and coiled muscles born from twenty years of strength training strain against the fabric of your clothes. They do not bulge like those of a man. Even arms as thick across as yours have just the faintest hint of femininity to them. Wyfs and weirs have different shapes to their bones, and no amount of tomboyish strength and athleticism could take your womanhood away from you.

Though you doubt Lothar sees a woman looming over him in this moment.

No, he must see must see a stern and stone-faced giant staring down at him with a frozen frown and single, baleful eye as icy cold a blue as the sky before a blizzard. An eye whose twin is hidden behind a thong of gilded black leather inscribed with gardener runes that speak a blessing against the temptations of the dark. No wonder he shivers in his boots. Most his age would crack beneath the coldness in your eyes like a dam without maintenance in winter, letting a river of secrets spill forth from their mouth.

To his credit, Lothar has not started babbling about whatever Damien and the Earl of Lavendel had him purchase on their behalf. Yes, both of them were involved, he let that much slip - clients have him sworn to silence, not a single client. Something bubbles up behind your right eye, restrained by the curse-suppressing relic wrapped about it. A terrible and burning pressure that yearns to be released. You'd have your answers quicker if you just let it out and crushed his resistance beneath the weight of your will.

If you suspected espionage and treason, you might have done what that little voice in the back of your mind wanted. Chicanery and annoying games of politics, however, are not worth burning your relationship with the boy you suspect will one day be your brother-in-law.

So you chastise the voice for being hasty and say, "Keeping your oaths is commendable Lothar, so I won't ask about whatever it is that Damien asked you to do."

>>5917298
Lothar's expression when you mention Damien's name tells you everything you need to know about who put him up to it. He pales at first glance, thinking the game is up. But with how quick he regains his color and confidence, you can say with some certainty that the Earl must be involved as well. Swallowing hard, he says, "Good. Because I wouldn't have been able to tell you about it anyhow, milady. My clients were real serious 'bout it, said something... how'd it go, uh... loose lips-"

"-sink ships," you finish the adage for him. He nods vigorously, though before he can say anything else, you move to put out a little carrot for him, asking if, "The oath you swore... your clients simply wanted to keep what they were purchasing secret, is that right?"

Lothar spends a moment thinking about it, before pulling a notebook from his pocket. Thumbing through it, his tongue pokes out from the corner of his mouth as he looks for the page that has the answer. Once he finds it, he runs his fingers along the words before nodding to himself and slipping the book back into his coat. "Yuh-huh! They were pretty specific that I couldn't tell anyone what I bought for them, 'even if the King showed up on your doorstep'. They said they'd beg forgiveness from him if it came to that and everything."

Your eyebrows raise when the King gets mentioned, but the content of his oath makes your lips crinkle into a cunning little smile. Damien and the Earl were not quite as thorough as they thought they were being... or they left it in on purpose, and wanted you to find it. Damn courtiers and their mind games. In either case, there's no harm in asking, "So there is nothing in your oath that forbids you from telling me your thoughts about what they purchased, and why?"

Lothar's face crinkles like your words made him swallow a lemon whole. Thumbing through his notebook again, he shakes his head and says, "Nope. Nothing like that, though it kind of feels a little unfair if I did..."

The honorable perspective, one that you would agree with in most circumstances, and one that makes your offer to him more sincere than you thought it would be. After all, if that's his first thought on the matter, the boy has a good sense of right and wrong. "Perhaps. Or perhaps that's not what they cared about. You'll be doing me a favor if you tell me your thoughts on the matter, so the least I could do for you is put in a good word for you to mother and father. Perhaps convince them to give you a chance as Etna's suitor..."

Lothar brightens the moment you mention Etna, but he's too clever and canny to let his feelings for her get in the way of his business and influence negotiations. He pulls back, just a little, eyeing you up and down, saying, "Milady's father wants a boy with a proper apprenticeship for his daughter-"

>>5917302
"You're already something of Hilde's little helper," you tell him, though he bristles at being called helper. "I'm sure I can get her to recognize you as her disciple, or however an artifex and khemist recognizes their pupil."

Lothar thinks on that for a moment, before shaking his head, "Milady's mother hates me and thinks I'm like one of those no-good city urchins whose only trade is thievin' and pinchin'. Even milady's word wouldn't convince her otherwise... and I'm a man of my word. If you want me to stretch it, I'd need something concrete."

You give an exaggerated sigh and slump of your shoulders. Lothar has always been a shrewd negotiator, the sort of kid who looks out for his best interests. It's a merchant's sort of honor that you can't fully approve of on principle, as it's rarely straightforward, but it's still a sort of honor none-the-less. Fortunately, little Etna gushes about the boy enough that you know how to deal with him. You're just lucky you haven't had the need to seriously bribe the boy for information since your last trip to Somnenblume, so you have an offering prepared.

Reaching into your bag, you pull out something that makes young Lothar's eyes sparkle with delight. The frown on your face curls into a smile as you offer him a thick, leather-bound tome whose cover bears its title, the author's signature, and the face of a one-eyed wolf. "First printing run, signed by the author and illustrator both. This and my best efforts to convince my parents that you're a good kid, for everything you can tell me and speculate on without breaking your oath of secrecy."

Lothar quickly snatches the copy of Gottfried the Wise Wolf from your hands. One of the most beloved four-panel stories in the Kingdom, which was only recently printed off broadsheet and in a dedicated tome like this. He flips through the book, determining that it's genuine, and looks up at you with guilt in his blue eyes. "Light, milady, I feel like I'm fleecin' ya here. But I'll tell ya everything I can!"

"Without breaking your word," you remind him, and he nods vigorously. "A man's word is his bond, and certainly more important than a storybook."

"Yuh-huh! I gotcha," Lothar says. "Alright, now where do I begin..."

You learn more than you need to from Lothar. All they forbade him from telling anyone was the exact contents of his purchases, and who gave him the money to make them. So you do not confirm that it was the Earl and Damien, though that is plain as day from his reactions earlier. He happily tells you where they want the goods dropped off on the morrow and the names of the farmhands he's paying to move the stuff. He shows you one of the gold coins he paid for things with, which are of the standard weight and purity for the kingdom, but have the stamp of a lavender instead of a daffodil.

>>5917305
"As for what I think they're up to..." Lothar ponders for a moment, before saying that, "They told me to pay for the supplies in gold when I asked if I should change it for silver. Gold's pretty loud, not many people pay for things with it, so I think they wanted it to be heard by someone? They said I could keep the rest, and it's a suspicious number too... after buying everything for 'em plus payin' the farmhands, what's leftover plus my savings could buy a press. Not just a coffeeshop model, neither, but the sort for bulk printing..."

"Hmm. You've given me much to think about, Lothar," you tell the boy. Then you give him a little clap on the shoulder and say, "You've earned your reward here, so go enjoy it. Of course, I will ask that you remain quiet about what we've discussed here..."

Lothar nods before running up to his loft to devour his new treasure. You take your leave of his warehouse with many thoughts running through your head... Roll 1d100
>The best decision is to do nothing and let things play out. The worst case scenario is that you need to convince them again that the Road Beneath is a fool's errand.
>Have your men-at-arms receive the supplies that the Earl and Damien have so generously purchased, and bring it to the caravan as back-up for what is already prepared for the Crown Road.
>Something suspicious is going on. Have Joana observe the delivery of the goods from the shadows, keeping an eye out for anything untowards... or any unexpected guests.
>Confront whoever plans to receive the supplies shortly after its delivery. Either it's Damien and the Earl, in which case you'll convince them of their foolishness again, or it's not and you'll need your armor.
>Confront Damien and the Earl now. You have no patience for games like this.
>(Write in)

Hilde will be finished with your armor and armorsilks' repairs by the night's end. (Potential use of Enhanced Armor purchase)
>It's your folding plate and armorsilks, what more did you expect?
>...she added bells and whistles to the armor. Is this why it took her near a week to complete, when it should have taken an artifex of her caliber a day or two at most?
>...she added bells and whistles to the armorsilks. Why the armorsilks of all things?

Rolled 79 (1d100)

>>5917307
>Have your men-at-arms receive the supplies that the Earl and Damien have so generously purchased, and bring it to the caravan as back-up for what is already prepared for the Crown Road.
Play courtier games, win courtier prizes. We can be sneaky, too, when needs must.

>...she added bells and whistles to the armorsilks. Why the armorsilks of all things?
Speaking of sneakiness...

Rolled 71 (1d100)

>>5917307
>Have your men-at-arms receive the supplies that the Earl and Damien have so generously purchased, and bring it to the caravan as back-up for what is already prepared for the Crown Road.
>It's your folding plate and armorsilks, what more did you expect?

Rolled 84 (1d100)

>>5917307
>Something suspicious is going on. Have Joana observe the delivery of the goods from the shadows, keeping an eye out for anything untowards... or any unexpected guests.
time to get sneaky
>...she added bells and whistles to the armor. Is this why it took her near a week to complete, when it should have taken an artifex of her caliber a day or two at most?

Rolled 67 (1d100)

>>5917307
>Something suspicious is going on. Have Joana observe the delivery of the goods from the shadows, keeping an eye out for anything untowards... or any unexpected guests.
Can the Earl and Damien be planning to deceive Roslander spies?
>...she added bells and whistles to the armorsilks. Why the armorsilks of all things?

>>5917307
>Something suspicious is going on. Have Joana observe the delivery of the goods from the shadows, keeping an eye out for anything untowards... or any unexpected guests.

>...she added bells and whistles to the armorsilks. Why the armorsilks of all things?

Rolled 35 (1d100)

>>5917841

Rolled 27 (1d100)

>>5917307
>Something suspicious is going on. Have Joana observe the delivery of the goods from the shadows, keeping an eye out for anything untowards... or any unexpected guests.

>It's your folding plate and armorsilks, what more did you expect?

Rolled 68 (1d100)

>>5917307
>Something suspicious is going on. Have Joana observe the delivery of the goods from the shadows, keeping an eye out for anything untowards... or any unexpected guests.

>...she added bells and whistles to the armor. Is this why it took her near a week to complete, when it should have taken an artifex of her caliber a day or two at most?

>>5916744
And you said that having the choker there was lewd...
>>5916931
I have not read that, unfortunately. If/when I start doing my own art for updates, it will probably be slowly, and with relevant images. I think the first I'll do is Louise in Armorsilks, because I suspect that will be the easiest to find a good model for.

As for groups doing sex Magics, the bulk of that is going to be villainous because the orgasm is a point of spiritual vulnerability in setting. It's how souls get extracted, or the hardest to remove seeds of corruption get implanted.

That being said, there can be some good uses of it. There are some tantric cults of the Light that open themselves up to divine guidance through such means. Louise herself has ad-hoc'd such a ritual prayer, and while that's not the soul reason by far for her strength in divine magics, it is a contributing factor.

But the most powerful seggs magic is more evil aligned than good Aligned.
>>5917379
That is definitely one thing that Hilde upgrading the Armorsilks will give you.
>>5917786
>Can the Earl and Damien be planning to deceive Roslander spies?
There are a number of things those shifty gentlemen could be doing. It could be Roslanders, Cultists, or even just seeing how much attention you're paying to things. Or they could be seeing who bites.

>>5918388
>Louise herself has ad-hoc'd such a ritual prayer, and while that's not the soul reason by far for her strength in divine magics, it is a contributing factor.
damn, louise managed to get something in one of her moments of weakness ? my headcanon is that the Lord was gonna give her something and used it as an excuse
>But the most powerful seggs magic is more evil aligned than good Aligned.
makes sense, even if the Lord of light doesn't mind masturbation/fornication he doesn't wanna his followers to build gooncaves

>>5917307
>Something suspicious is going on. Have Joana observe the delivery of the goods from the shadows, keeping an eye out for anything untowards... or any unexpected guests.

>...she added bells and whistles to the armorsilks. Why the armorsilks of all things?

>>5918388
There is nothing lewd about wanting to free a sister from her bondage.

File: Joana (Right) and one of (...).jpg (447 KB, 982x1637)

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Winner: Joana and Pimped Out Armorsilks.

Your business with young Lothar complete, you return to Castle Liliendorf to make your preparations. The sun is well on its way towards to the horizon for the evening, leaving you with precious little time to get ahead of whatever chicanery Damien and the Earl have hatched these past three days. May the LORD give you the patience to deal with whatever it may be.

The first thought that crosses your mind would be to go to Olanna and confiscate all of the goods.

The second thought that chases after it is the suspicion that they want you to do just that.

If those men want to act like scheming, shady courtiers pulling underhanded tricks to curry favor in the King's court, then you must needs demonstrate the appropriate means to deal with such chicanery. No, Olanna can act subtly, but sending her and the men-at-arms would be like using a sledgehammer to engrave a name on fine porcelain. The Duke taught you better than that. When a job must be loud, you give it to someone who can be loud; and when a job must be quiet, you give it to someone overlooked by all.

Which is why you approach your most trusted hand-maid. A woman getting on to her forties, who rules imperiously over the laundries of camp and castle alike, but otherwise falls beneath most people's notice. A former servant of the Duke of Somnenblume who retired to Liliendorf with a slight limp, to live out the rest of her days in peace. A maid who gets a little restless from time to time, and enjoys the opportunity to stretch her legs, even the bad one.

"Hello Joana," you greet the queen of the laundry. "How's your leg doing?"

"Well, I won't be doing cartwheels anytime soon, but it won't be giving out on me just yet," she says. There's a glimmer in her eye when she catches the serious look on your face. Her lips crinkle into a wolfish smile. "There some challenging work to be had, milady? Hilde built this lovely brace for my knee, and I've been dying to get the chance to really stretch my legs..."

"There's a warehouse down by the wharf where Damien and Earl have been squirreling away supplies that they purchased very loudly," you tell Joana. She nods for you to continue. "I'm not interested in what they bought, I've heard enough to know that it's supplies for an expedition to the Road Beneath. What I do want to know is the identity of everyone keeping an eye on those supplies, and if anyone decides to tamper with them. Can you and your students get me that information?"

Joana simply curtsies. "It will be done, milady."

===

With Joana taking one of her students out for "a walk", you can rest assured that whatever secrets Damien and the Earl have been hiding, they will be uncovered. Whether the supplies are bait for a spy, a test of your awareness of the goings-on in Liliendorf, or if it's exactly what it seems - an attempt to switch plans to the Road Beneath - you will know it by tomorrow morning.

>>5918531

For the time being, you head to Hilde's workshop. She said that your harness would be finished by the evening, and you mean to collect it now.

Sitting in the lowest basement of Castle Liliendorf, so deep below the ground that it brushes against the escape tunnels built for the eventuality of a siege, Hilde has created a nest for herself where she can work in peace. The floor is strewn with all manner of machina that she has constructed for her projects, great tools that help her work with precision and grace. They are arranged almost as haphazardly as she keeps her self, but just as her unkempt manner is deliberate for its appeal to men, each workbench has been placed to minimize the wasted motion that occurs during the course of her work.

In a shock of vibrant color that contrasts with the greys and blacks of steel and iron strewn about the room, her loft practically glows with its many pink pillows and sheets. You turn an eye away from the "innovations" strewn about the plush space, pretending not to notice the embarrassing things that she's left in plain sight. How many men have seen her loft up close and personal is a question you'd rather not ponder.

Hilde herself sits at a khemistry table, her wild mane of brown hair pulled back into a half-managed ponytail. A thick pair of spectacles protect her eyes as she raises the choker of your folding plate from a tub of some shocking green khemical.

"You arrived just in time, Louise!" your friend cheerily greets you, swiveling about on her chair. "I just put the finishing touches of everything. Go ahead, try it out!"

Without another word, she rolls her chair over to you and all but shoves two pieces of jewelry into your hands. One, you easily recognize as the choker that serves as the nexus of your folding plate. Goldsteel with a core of black adamantite, with a black diamond from the mines beneath the Holy City at its heart to give it power, fitted perfectly for your neck. The other, you do not recognize. It looks like a gold signet ring set around an emerald, emblazoned with the narzissenmark.
>You trust Hilde unconditionally. Put them both on and then try them out. The worst that could happen is some strange prank.
>Ask Hilde what the ring is before trying it out.
>Ask Hilde where your armorsilks are.
>You can put off these mysteries for a later date, even if that disappoints your friend.
>(Write in)

>>5918532
>but just as her unkempt manner is deliberate for its appeal to men
a woman of cometure

>You trust Hilde unconditionally. Put them both on and then try them out. The worst that could happen is some strange prank.
Let's go

>>5918532
>You trust Hilde unconditionally. Put them both on and then try them out. The worst that could happen is some strange prank.
What's the worst that could happen no wait aaaaaahhhhhh

Also hold up, if the entire suit of armor folds up into a choker, isn't that choker ludicrously dense? Is it also large enough that the weight can rest on the shoulders to not suffocate whoever wears it? Does magic reduce its effective mass by putting most of it in a pocket dimension?

>>5918532
>>You trust Hilde unconditionally. Put them both on and then try them out. The worst that could happen is some strange prank.

>>5918531
wait a sec, I recognize the artist of pic rel. very nice choice, OP.

>>5918532
>You trust Hilde unconditionally. Put them both on and then try them out. The worst that could happen is some strange prank.

>>5918532
>>You trust Hilde unconditionally. Put them both on and then try them out. The worst that could happen is some strange prank.

>>5918532
>Ask Hilde where your armorsilks are.

>>5918503
Yes I'm sure that's what you meant, and nothing else.
>>5918574
Yes, the entire suit of armor folds up into that choker. There have been a number of times when she's notes to deploy it or retract it in the story, and notes that she wore the choker alone without deploying it.

The Folding Plate in setting is based on an item from D&D and Pathfinder that I consider a vital staple for any Heavy Armor wearing character: Folding Plate. A neck slot item that just removes the need for you to worry about donning your armor if someone ambushes you, because it reduces the action to equip/unequip the armor to a Bonus or Swift Action.

In setting, all of that depends. Louise's harness was created by the Duke's master Artifex, whose lack of raw talent compared to Hilde is made up for with the weight of 30 years of experience. Her folding plate is about as light as they come when retracted, though most modern examples are closer to hers than not. The back up she's been wearing (her father's old armor from before he retired) is a fair bit heavier and thicker. That said, only models from 150 years or so ago would require shoulder support for the sorcerous array.

The sorcerous array for Folding Plate was, notably, an invention of King Arthur rois Jonquille (or one of the men who carried that name, if you don't believe the conspiracy theories). Some of its function is a black box that Just Works, including whatever sorcery allows for it to transform between armor and a choker.

>>5919176
>The Folding Plate in setting is based on an item from D&D and Pathfinder that I consider a vital staple for any Heavy Armor wearing character: Folding Plate. A neck slot item that just removes the need for you to worry about donning your armor if someone ambushes you, because it reduces the action to equip/unequip the armor to a Bonus or Swift Action.
nice to know

>>5918532
>Ask Hilde where your armorsilks are.
She seems like she'd appreciate an excuse to brag about her innovations. Not THOSE innovations on the bed, but yes, probably also those. For now, let's just ask about our armorsilks.

File: Armor and Old Silks.jpg (802 KB, 1500x1165)

802 KB JPG

The familiar weight of your harness about your neck relieves you of worries that crawled into the back of your mind, out of sight but not quite gone away. The armor you wore on the trip back from the Briarcrown served your family well across three generations, but you had not worn it since the Southern Campaign some seven years ago now. The glory you won butchering wendigos earned you the sleek, modern folding plate that now hugs your neck. The familiar sensation of the black diamond linking with your mana and blazing to life with the Gardener sigil for Light leaves you with a calm you have not felt since your battle against the Arbiter.

You slip the unfamiliar ring about your right index finger. Like the heavy choker that contains your armor, it sips mana from your body to charge the emerald at its heart. It draws so little that you barely feel it. If you compared your folding plate to a fire in the hearth, then the ring would be a gently flickering candle; that is the difference between them. You poke and prod at the ring, looking for some button or other mechanism to activate it, but find nothing.

A sheepish look crosses Hilde's face as you toy around with it, and she explains that you should, "Push your mana into it, like you're deploying your harness."

"Oh, I see..." you say, and do just that.

Something like viscous tar pours out from beneath the ring and crawls its way up your arm and across your body. It swallows your clothes whole, not dissolving them but pulling them into the elsewhere that the ring must open a gate unto as it runs across the fabric. It feels like sticky silk against your bare skin, and slides over your breasts, down your legs, and across those unmentionable places to give you a fit like a second skin. It stops at the choker around your neck, but every inch of your body below is covered from your fingers to your toes.

Once your body is covered, the liquid fabric shifts in color and stiffens into cloth that feels little different than your old armorsilks. The coloration retains the broad strokes of what the old set looked like, though there are enough differences to show it off as new.

It retains a pattern like a leotard about your chest and crotch, but instead of solid black it is striped vertically with gold. The rest of the fabric lets your skin peak through like a stocking, filtering the creamy color of your flesh through a filter of black silk and lace. From the thicker cloth that creates a pair of gloves about your hands, a field of flowers bloom in shocks of color from vines of black lace that crawl up your arms and about your shoulders. The stockings about your legs remain sheer all the way to your feet, dotted with golden narzissenmarks in a regular pattern.

>>5919650
The Crest of the Holy Light has moved from its place beneath your navel to an eye-catching place right above the cleavage of your breasts. Your personal sigil of the black-gold narzissenmark upon a shield sits on your right shoulder, embraced by a wreath of brightly colored flowers. Below the choker, a ruff of white lace flares out about the base of your neck, patterned with lillies.

"Sorry to surprise you with this," Hilde sounds apologetic as she scratches down some notes into a book, looking over the armorsilks keenly. Her hands grab at a few places best left unsaid to get a feel of the fit. Oddly enough, in a few places it feels like a pair of hands are pushing you up and providing some extra support. "I tried salvaging what was left of your armorsilks, but the Arbiter really did a number on them. Just about the only thing I could salvage from them was the orichalcum in the circuitry."

"These are not like any armorsilks I've worn before..." you tell her. It's true. While they're no more snug a fit than any other pair you've owned, these somehow feel like they're groping you as you move. Perhaps that's a phantom sensation from how it wrapped around your body, but you're not quite sure about that. "They breath well, but not having buttons or straps is rather odd. Not to mention how they almost feel alive.""

"They're a new model," Hilde says. A bright sparkle has filled her eyes, and you can tell right away what she wants to do.

With a fond smile, you tell her, "Go ahead. Regale me with your latest achievements."

"Well, you can thank the Material Khemistry Department of Stamen University," Hilde smiles brightly as she begins pouring out the all the little details that she loves to gush over when it comes to artifice. She reminds you of René when she gets like this. "My contribution to the Silk Liquefication and Inertial Modification Experiment was figuring out production at scale for the material. What you're wearing now is the end result of nearly two decades of research... and probably its first time seeing use outside of the lab..."

You arch an eyebrow at that, which nearly makes Hilde jump to assure you that, "Don't worry though! It's been very thoroughly tested for durability against standard embersilk and exceeded it in every measure. Liquefaction of Embersilk by Worcester's Decomposition actually improves its ability to absorb blunt force trauma by a factor of four! It also renders the material flame resistant, electricity resistant, water resistant, insulates against extreme temperatures, makes it sporicidal, germicidal, spermicidal-"

You blink at the last word and ask, "Sorry, what was that last one?"

>>5919651
"Oh, it's super stretchy, but doesn't deform," Hilde explains without explaining anything at all. Then she says something that you dearly wish she did not. "I kinda found that bit out accidentally while futzing around with a sample they gave me, but they were pleasantly surprised when they confirmed the results themselves. It got my name on the paper as a contributing researcher, but-"

"Hilde," you have a very important question that you need to ask her. "You didn't use that sample to make these armorsilks, did you...?"

"No, I've been wearing them as the best pair of bloomers ever," she tells you with a lurid grin. "Don't even need to take them off when you get a little randy. Especially since they're also self lubricating."

You groan. "Why?"

"Presumably a result of the liquefaction process," Hilde explains with a shrug. "It should help to extend the lifespan by a good long while, though. You know how you need to oil your leathers every now and then to keep them from cracking? The self-lubrication should reduce the amount of maintenance you need to perform on these."

That is... a good point, actually. Releasing a sigh, you ask her, "Are there any other strange features I should know about before using these?"

"They can change color, " Hilde explains. "Depress the sigil on the ring while the armorsilks are deployed, and you'll be able to change between some configurations I put together for you. It's currently set to 'Parade Silks', I've also included some camouflage for a number of environments... oh! I may have left 'Emperor's Armorsilks' on there. Don't use that one unless you run into your René and want to show him something nice..."

You nod at Hilde's words. Emperor's Armorsilks sounds particularly extravagant, so if you had to guess you'd expect that she toyed around with it to make an outfit that's as fancy as it is alluring. Something you wouldn't be caught dead in under normal circumstances, but... Hilde knows what men want better than you do. If she thinks René would think it looked nice, you can take her at her word.

Before you can ask Hilde anything more about the new armorsilks, a knock on the doorframe interrupts you. Roll 1d100
>It's the Earl of Lavendel.
>It's Sir Damien.
>It's Good Father Durandal.
>It's your father.
>It's a raven with a letter that bears a sunflower seal.
>(Write In)

Rolled 82 (1d100)

>>5919654
>It's a raven with a letter that bears a sunflower seal.

Rolled 68 (1d100)

>>5919651
>"[...]makes it sporicidal, germicidal, spermicidal-"
classic Hilde, I wonder how she tested it
>>5919654
>"Oh, it's super stretchy, but doesn't deform, [...] I kinda found that bit out accidentally while futzing around with a sample they gave me"
so that's how. Very nice and they also are self-lubed, neat.

>"[...]oh! I may have left 'Emperor's Armorsilks' on there. Don't use that one unless you run into your René and want to show him something nice..."
René is one lucky man
>It's a raven with a letter that bears a sunflower seal.

Rolled 96 (1d100)

>>5919651
>LEWD SLIME armorsilks
Oh Hilde.

>>5919654
>Emperor Has No Clothes mode
OOOOH HILDE

>>5919654
>It's a raven with a letter that bears a sunflower seal.

>>5919654
>It's Sir Damien.
And Louise has to put her hair into twintails, give him the cow-scarf, and say something to the effect of
> Don't get carried away, I'm only giving you this because you saved my shapely ass that one time and I don't want to be in your debt! Baka!

>>5919683
>>LEWD SLIME armorsilks
>Oh Hilde.
Not as good as the Arbiter's sentient hentai-tentacle body-glove

Rolled 4 (1d100)

Forgot to roll

>>5919654
>It's a raven with a letter that bears a sunflower seal.

>>5919654
Do these armorsilks have a mode where you can wear them on their own without scandalizing the onlookers?
>It's your father.

Rolled 99 (1d100)

>>5919654
>>It's your father.

Rolled 100 (1d100)

>>5920040

Rolled 44 (1d100)

>>5919654
>It's your father.

>>5920072
>>5920098
Thanks dad

>>5920040
That's what it being a separate ring is for, I would presume.

>>5920098
>>5920072
Nice.

>>5920249
Good point! We can wear casual clothes underneath now.

>>5919471
She already has, to a level of detail that Louise never needed nor wanted. If you've read the webnovel "I don't really get it, but it looks like I've been reincarnated", Hilde has a similar mindset when it comes to invention. She usually doesn't immediate pursue lewd things in the workshop, but her mind invariably wanders towards such applications.
>>5919678
First with a toy, then with one of her gentlemen callers. She absolutely adores having such a useful set of undergarments.

Yes, the full armorsilks have the same functions and use. The armor part of it has always been a hardening in response to physical trauma.

As for that last part, showing it off is definitely going to be an option when you run into Rene in person.
>>5919683
Don't blame Hilde on this, she was not involved in those acronyms. If anyone, blame the King from about 2 centuries ago. He invented armorsilks and folding plate specifically so he had an excuse to make the uniform for female palace guards skin-tight bodysuits and collars.
>>5919770
Few people in the setting are as cultured as the Witch of Depravity, for better or worse.
>>5920040
What are you talking about? Armorsilks are not scandalous at all. It's common practice for Knights male and female to wear their armorsilks and nothing else about town, especially if they're looking to peacock their wealth and stature.

Only an uncivilized barbarian would be scandalized by such things. Especially ones made for Louise's tastes, which are quite humble compared to the more flashy ones worn by other lady knights. Yes, they conform to her figure quite well, but is that is simply flaunting her physical strength.

Louise doesn't really go for the extra flashy stuff thay some nobles do. She has extremely practical sculpted plate with a raised, feminine bubble. Some women have their armor gently conform to the shape of their bust, while others wear out and out boobplate with shaped nipples that are seen as the woman's equivalent of a flashy codpiece.
>>5920249
That's actually so that of she needs to armor up quickly, she can do so with a full set of armorsilks and without damaging her clothes. Folding plate can be deployed over clothing, but if it's not skin tight there's a good chance of it ripping the fabric. Armorsilks are not seen as scandalous in setting.

>>5920381
>the King from about 2 centuries ago
Fuhrer Roy Mustang??

Rolled 50 (1d100)

>>5919654
>It's your father.

Rolled 87 (1d100)

>>5919654
>It's your father.

>>5919654
>It's your father.

Rolled 87 (1d100)

>>5920759

>>5920381
>First with a toy
kinda surprised on this one since I thought she'd prefer the real thing and dislike toys, but on a second note it makes sense, kek.

>If anyone, blame the King from about 2 centuries ago
hmm, I wonder if we'll see the subtle hornyness of our king later on
>>5920395
>Fuhrer Roy Mustang??
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sJUlTg3mfTo

File: Louise in her Old Armorsilks.png (590 KB, 2000x3000)

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"Hilde, have you seen Louise?" your father's voice rumbles from beyond the doorframe. He may no longer be the young sword hand he used to be, but his voice has only grown deeper and more powerful with age.

Hilde nearly jumps out of her pants when she hears him. Not in the way she leaps out of her clothes when one of her boys comes calling, but more like a feral cat who just heard the crack of thunder. The mess of hair that tumbles down her back in a current of tangled, muddy-blonde curls stands up on edge. Rushing to her loft, she scurries up the ladder and grabs at a ring to pull down a curtain that hides away her bed. She sighs in relief when she sees your hand hovering over the doorknob, your expression amused and expectant.

Only when she gives you a thumbs up do you open the door for him.

Your father fills the hall in a way that few men can. At a gargantuan seven feet tall, your forehead only comes up to his chin, making him one of the only men you've met who didn't need to use magic to meet or exceed your height. He did not grow long and lanky, either. Were he shorter, he might have been called broad and stocky, with a barrel chest and muscles as thick as the trunk of a tree. Even at fifty years old, he remains hale and hearty, with muscles enough to strain at the simple ranching garments that he's taken to wearing in his old age.

His light hair has allowed him to age gracefully, with streaks of silver blending in subtly with his once untarnished mane of gold. He keeps his face clean shaven as he has for as long as you can remember, and he ties his hair into a loose ponytail that reaches halfway down his back. His blue eyes hide behind a gift you brought back from Stamen on your last trip to the capital - a pair of circular red-lensed spectacles that allow the wearer to see in darkness unimpeded.

"Hello Papa!" you greet your father with a smile.

"Howdy, Ross," Hilde gives a little sheepish waves to your father - Rousseau - while her eyes dart around the room in search of any embarrassing things sticking out from their hiding place. The last time that he saw something like that strewn about while the two of you were having some girl talk... you'd rather not think about it.

"I hope you two haven't been getting into too much trouble," your father says. Something about the way he speaks drags you back to the days of your childhood schemes with René and the other children. He ducks through the door, careful not to bang his head on the frame. A familiar problem for you, one completely alien to Hilde. "Hilde, I see you've finished... ah, those are new armorsilks, aren't they? Which means the old..."

You and Hilde share a brief look with one another while your father shakes his head, an amused smile on his face. "Well, the last time your armorsilks got ruined beyond repair, you sent the Alans men running back to their hills. So it must have been a hell of a fight."

>>5920907
You slump down into the nearest chair with a sigh and admit that, "I got my ass kicked, Papa."

He takes a seat on a chair of his own and peaks over his spectacles at you, meeting your eyes, "You give as good as you get?"

You have to think about that question for a moment, because you don't really know the answer. Your eyes drift away from your father, and you find yourself getting pulled back into your fight against the Arbiter. How helpless and desperate you felt to achieve something, anything, against the most overwhelming foe that you've ever faced before. Before you can stew in your thoughts for too long, however, Hilde's voice yanks you out of there. "She dropped the roof on them Ross. So I'd say they were good and got... even if they lived to run away."

Your father gives a hearty chuckle and claps you on the shoulder. "That's my girl!"

Hilde picks up on the morose mood that the conversation has left you with, so she quickly takes the reins of any conversation that might be coming, asking your father, "So what didja need Louise for, anyways?"

"Does a man need an excuse to check in on his daughter...?" your father says... before completely changing tune a moment later. "...is what I would like to say, anyways. But I heard on the grapevine - and by on the grapevine, I mean from your mother - that you made a scarf for a boy. A boy who is not only not one of your brothers, but is also not little René. Am I going to need to have a sit down with this... Damien fellow and discuss things like boundaries with my darling caille, like I did with René?"

Hilde's eyes open wide as if some grand revelation was just laid out before her. "So that's why he ran away to Sal Khemia! It always bothered me that René just left for a city halfway across the world with a girl like Louise pining after him. She's got brawn, beauty, and... maybe not my brains, but you're daughter's a catch, Ross!"

"Right?" your father nods in emphatic agreement. "She's naive towards the wolfish hearts of men, too, Hilde. I'm counting on you to protect her when I can't."

Hilde snaps into a salute with enough force that her breasts jiggle. "Don't worry, Ross. You watch the homefront, I'll guard her in foreign lands."

Your father's eyes twinkle and his deep voice fills with amusement and emotion as he declares, "Your the best friend my daughter could ask for, Hilde."
>Hilde, what the fuck?
>Papa, what the fuck?
>You two are the worst.
>Yes, Hilde will protect my purity by devouring all of the men before I can talk to them. As was foretold by the sages.
>Don't worry father, you don't need to worry about Damien giving you any grandchildren. Hilde already claimed him, and I'm not into her used goods.
>Oh, but I already had plans with him tonight. He was taking me out to dinner and then we were going to have a sleepover.
>I'm sorry father, but it's too late. I'm already pregnant with Damien's child.
>(Write in)

>>5920908
>>You two are the worst.
>>Yes, Hilde will protect my purity by devouring all of the men before I can talk to them. As was foretold by the sages.

>>5920908
>You two are the worst.
>Yes, Hilde will protect my purity by devouring all of the men before I can talk to them. As was foretold by the sages.

>>5920908
>Yes, Hilde will protect my purity by devouring all of the men before I can talk to them. As was foretold by the sages.
>Don't worry father, you don't need to worry about Damien giving you any grandchildren. Hilde already claimed him, and I'm not into her used goods.
Louise likes her men pure as herself

>>5920908
>Yes, Hilde will protect my purity by devouring all of the men before I can talk to them. As was foretold by the sages.

Very true

>>5920908
>Don't worry father, you don't need to worry about Damien giving you any grandchildren. Hilde already claimed him, and I'm not into her used goods.

I just want to say that introducing and talking about Damien as though he were a well-planned, fully-intended potential romantic interest, and then almost immediately and irrevocably disqualifying him via Hilde, and THEN keeping the potential for anons to vote for him for choices like the scarf and keeping him in the main cast as Louise's royal point of contact and alchemical 'expert', is one of the strangest set of choices I've seen a QM make with a character.

>>5920966
I fee where you are coming from, anon. While he doing Hilde is in character, it’s something that puts him way down the scale of any future husbandu we may choose later on, specially when Louise is a virgin who did it out of religious idealism and holding out for an old flame. If she were someone else that had her share of intimate experience it’d be another case even if Damien being with our best friend makes it hard, even if said friend is a town bicycle anyway, but I think qm just wants to see how’s the general interest in him.

>>5920966
Agreed, to be desu.

>>5920908
>You two are the worst.
>Yes, Hilde will protect my purity by devouring all of the men before I can talk to them. As was foretold by the sages.

>>5920907
Also, your art's coming along nicely! I'd maybe consider a bit more definition to the face.

>>5920908
>Oh, but I already had plans with him tonight. He was taking me out to dinner and then we were going to have a sleepover.

>>5920907
Wasn't the emblem in a different place on the new armorsilks?
>>5920908
>I'm sorry father, but it's too late. I'm already pregnant with Damien's child.

>>5921307
Yes, but the pic is labeled as her *old* armorsilks, so...

>>5920931
She likes her men Rene. She's really hung up on him. I hope I can write him well enough that he's worth it.
>>5920966
Well, not immediately. He only got disqualified after the fight with the Arbiter, which is "Book 2" in my mental model and draft notes. Even that is dubiously canon for the novelization, as I think I'm going to take a less meandering path to Rosarium when I get there.
>>5921029
Well, the scarf bit is going to be less "It's not like I like you, DUMMY" and more a "Societal customs obligate you to wear this ugly scarf now. Mwahahahaha!" prank.
>>5921055
Thanks anon. I've got another one for tonight, though it's a little, uh, Disney-esque, which I don't love.
>>5921307
As anon said, those are her old armorsilks. I'll probably give a try for her new ones, but it turns out that stipes are a bitch and a half when you're starting out.

>>5920908
>I'm sorry father, but it's too late. I'm already pregnant with Damien's child.

>>5921557
>Well, the scarf bit is going to be less "It's not like I like you, DUMMY"
But what if we DO? Alas, poor Damien, we knew ye briefly, but our shortstack greasemonkey stole you away before your heretical flower could bloom.

>>5921557
>Well, the scarf bit is going to be less "It's not like I like you, DUMMY" and more a "Societal customs obligate you to wear this ugly scarf now. Mwahahahaha!" prank.
I mean wasn’t it decided from the start that it was coming from a friendly place rather than le tsundere ?

>>5921734
>I mean wasn’t it decided from the start that it was coming from a friendly place rather than le tsundere ?
Probably, but I have been consistently shitposting tsundere jokes because I think it would be a funny in-story misconception for characters to come to.

File: Face Practice With Louise.png (772 KB, 3000x2000)

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"Indeed she is," you nod in agreement with your father. A playful smile brightens your face as you assure him that, "You can sleep soundly while I'm off wallowing through the pit of sin that is Rosarium, Papa. Hilde will devour all those wolfish men herself before they've the chance to turn a lustful eye my way... just like she did with Sir Damien. Perhaps once she's finished, the men of the Roslands will go and sin no more."

"As was foretold by the Sages..." Hilde's voice becomes comically solemn. Her fingers curl into the signs made by the sages of the Jasmine Hall as they speak their sutras. "For having experienced the apex, nothing again will stir their hearts with desire, for nothing under heaven could compare to the kiss of the wildflower."

Your father let's out a snort of laughter. "I forgot how humble you were."

Hilde puffs up with pride, pushing up two extra-large, pillow-soft reasons for her abundant self-confidence. "According to Father Durandal, the LORD of Light hates lies more than boasts, so I'm just erring on the side of caution and doing my best to please the LORD. Now, what's this about a scarf, Lou-Lou?"

Hilde pivots to you, and your father nods at her question, expecting an answer. Before you can say anything, Hilde gives you an apologetic look and says, "If I screwed up with Damey, I can break it off. It was just a fling, and I know for a fact that I wasn't his firs-"

You shake your head emphatically, "Hilde, it's nothing like that. You know what I find attractive; I like my men a bit shorter and on the leaner side... darker hair... just a little bit of stubble because he got so caught up in something last night that he didn't have time to shave... glasses are a plus... oh, and if he doesn't have any passion for something then he might as well be a eunuch."

As you describe your ideal man, your father rubs his temples and explains that, "In other words, Hilde, my daughter is attracted to René de Pleuvoir."

"I dunno..." Hilde looks at you with a cattish grin on her face. "That sounds an awful lot like Damey to me. I mean, he's taller than most, but isn't everyone short compared to Lou-Lou?"

"It's not like her to actually knit something, either," a matching smile crawls onto your father's face as well, a clear sign of his betrayal. "I have it on good authority that my eldest daughter hates knitting and would rather do anything else than join her mother at the knitting circle."

"I don't hate it that much," you complain.

"I'm quite certain that you do..." your father says with the sort of smile that believes it knows everything about you.

Too often, he's right about that, but tonight you know for a fact that he's dead wrong. So you tell it to him and Hilde straight forward, so there's no ambiguity to be had: "I have absolutely zero interest in that irritating, cocky, perverse, scheming, irredeemably heretical louse of a man, thank you."

>>5921895

A look of horror slowly spreads across Hilde's face as each disparaging word towards Damien slips out of your mouth. In a snap of sudden motion she all but leaps out of your bed and makes for the door. Turning back to your father, she says, "Ross, I've made a horrible mistake. I didn't realize it was that bad. I need to go break things off with Damien, I should have seen this sooner..."

As she scurries out the door and down the hall, you call out after her, "Enjoy your booty call, Hilde! But don't be too rough tonight, I need you both in shape to ride out tomorrow morning!"

Unlike usual, she doesn't answer. Surely she can't be serious...?

You look towards your father in... you're not certain if you're annoyed, or just confused. Letting out a sigh, you pinch your nose and tell him, "Father, it was an ugly scarf. I made it for him because he'd have to wear it or else he'd look rude, and seeing him in an ugly scarf would be funny. Knowing his interests, he probably doesn't even like cows..."

Your father stands up, and gives you two pats on the shoulder before looking you in the eye. "I'm sure you'll figure it out for yourself, my little caille. Your mother was the same way when we were young. You should ask her about the first gift she ever gave me when you get the chance, I think that will help you understand."

With his misunderstanding cemented in his mind, your father departs, leaving you alone in Hilde's workshop. It takes ever shred of willpower you possess to avoid denting your head with the palm of your hand.

The hour grows late, and only Hilde and Damien will be up and about for much longer, having eachother's company to share. You head to bed for the night... Interlude Time
>The Red [Inverted Courage]
>The Orange [Inverted Mercy]
>The Yellow [Inverted Generosity]
>The Blue [Inverted Justice]
>The Indigo [Inverted Nobility]
>The Violet [Inverted Hope]
>The Magenta [Inverted Fortune]

>>5921897

>The Indigo [Inverted Nobility]

>>5921897
>The Magenta [Inverted Fortune]

>>5921897
>The Orange [Inverted Mercy]
Curious for this one.
>>5921841
Congrats, anon, your efforts are paying off

>>5921895
I see what you mean about the Disney, but it's not bad. Maybe shrink the eyes a bit if you want it to look less Rapunzel-esque?

>>5921897
Hmm...
>The Orange [Inverted Mercy]

>>5921897
>The Indigo [Inverted Nobility]

>>5921897
>The Red [Inverted Courage]

File: louise.png (796 KB, 800x800)

796 KB PNG

Drew your lady knight :)

>>5922036
thank you fishman

>>5921897
>>The Orange [Inverted Mercy]

>>5921897
>The Indigo [Inverted Nobility]

>>5922036
Finally some proper bust size

Here
>The Orange [Inverted Mercy]

>>5921897
>The Orange [Inverted Mercy]

File: The Orange.png (535 KB, 1500x3000)

535 KB PNG

Loreposting tonight because I'm exhausted and can't think for some reason. Also, have a picture of The Orange that I drew today.

Knight's Harness in the Daffodil Kingdom
An Article from Artifice & Khemistry Monthly

Though it now occupies much of the southwestern reaches of the continent of Bosquet, the Daffodil Kingdom is at its heart a maritime nation. The seat of its power sits upon Stamen Isle at the center of the Gulf of Petals, and its heartlands are the volcanic archipelagos that serve as stepping stones towards the mainland. As a country whose stoutest walls are its copper-bottomed fleet of cannon bearing galleons, armor has been historically a balancing act. How heavily can the Kingdom armor its knights, soldiers, and sailors without impacting their performance at sea?

That question received its final answer two hundred years ago, now: "as heavily as it please you".

The invention of modern folding plate provided a solution to the two principal issues that arose when wearing heavy armor at sea: weight and rust. Even a simple breastplate would weigh a sailor down enough in the water to drown him, let alone brigandine or a full plate harness. Not to mention how they would all rust without extensive maintenance. Older models of folding plate provided some protection against the humid air and salty sea-breeze, but still sat heavy upon the shoulders. This left the seamen with few good options outside of khemically treated leathers and a prayer to the LORD.

Like its predecessors, the modern folding plate provides substantial protection from humidity and other factors that would cause the armor to rust without significant maintenance. The retraction mechanism shunts the bulk of the armor into what khemists call "imaginary number space."

This "imaginary number space" is a bubble in reality that sits outside of normal human perception, but can be accessed through sorcery and khemistry. If one were to imagine our world as a panel from your favorite four-box story, "imaginary number space" would be on the reverse of the page. Sir Wayland Russ invented the spellwork that allows modern folding plate to retract into this bubble of reality, and that method spread across the continent after Pope Dorothy VI signed the document approving the magic as free of heresy and apostacy.

Most nations saw the invention as a gimmick or a toy. Something a rich lord might show off at a party, or a paranoid man might wear everywhere he went just to be safe. Other maritime nations never even considered it, for common knowledge held that heavy armor was a death sentence at sea. The Daffodil Kingdom alone had the marriage of naval tradition in the heartlands and knightly tradition on the continent necessary to embrace the new technology.

And embrace it they did. In the modern day, if an adventurer searched the markets for a set of armor, they would hardly find anything that did not retract into "imaginary number space".

>>5923033
Of course, the adoption of folding plate did not go without its share of bumps in the road. Anyone familiar with it in the modern day would warn you against wearing it with loose fitting clothes, as the sliding plates have a tendency to pinch and tear at the garments and leave them shredded. One particularly infamous incident was later captured in the painting Hydrangeas in Bloom, when the Archduchess Grainne de la Hortensia retracted her folding plate whilst grandstanding at court, only to find that it took her entire dress with it.

The answer to that problem was found hiding in plain sight with the personal guard of King Jonquille.

The embersilk woven ceremonial garb they wore in the palace proved to be the perfect gambeson to wear beneath a harness of folding plate. The material was stretchy and easily dyed from its usual bone-white color, allowing for it to not only be worn as close to the skin as possible, but it could be emblazoned with a knight's heraldry. Its top notch magical conductivity gave it a very handy property when worn so close to the skin - and thus, the wearer's mana - as well. In an environment of abundant mana, it hardens in response to physical trauma, turning the silk into one last layer of steel.

The only prohibiting factor was the cost of embersilk. Only a single species of spider produces that particular silk in large quantities, and only when fed a very particular diet. The exact species of spider and the methods for rearing it are Crown Secrets of the Royal House of Jonquille. However, in the two centuries since the adoption of armorsilks as the Kingdom's standard gambeson, the material has become so abundant that even humble yeomen can afford clothes made from it...

Choose one of the following and roll 1d100:
>Mercy to the innocent
>Mercy to the foolish sinners
>Mercy to the one who saw too much
>Mercy to the right person at the right time
>Mercy to the woman whose courage knew no bounds.
>Mercy to the man who has mastered every number.

Rolled 45 (1d100)

>>5923036
>Mercy to the right person at the right time
Mr. Freeman...

Rolled 37 (1d100)

>>5923036
>Mercy to the man who has mastered every number.

Rolled 42 (1d100)

>>5923036
>>Mercy to the man who has mastered every number.

>>5923036
>Mercy to the foolish sinners

Rolled 80 (1d100)

>>5923036
>>Mercy to the woman whose courage knew no bounds

Rolled 26 (1d100)

>>5923036
>>Mercy to the woman whose courage knew no bounds.
NO
BOUNDS

Rolled 50 (1d100)

>>5923036
>>Mercy to the man who has mastered every number.

File: Thalia.jpg (138 KB, 1122x1607)

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Winner: ... it was tied when I started writing and I chose the brave lady. orz

A carriage hurtled through the woods at top speed. The horses pulling it ran as if the Dark One himself was snapping at their heels. From a certain perspective, he really was.

The carriage bounced violently as its wheels crashed against another root. Not for the first time this night, its driver - the Dame Thalia of Begonia - prayed for the good health of the craftsmen who built the vehicle. It must have been half-a-hundred times now that a root or stone or other divot in the road should have broken the carriage's axels, but it held strong so far. All she needed from it now was another six miles. Then she and the carriage's precious cargo would be clear of the Mavrodasos and in sight of Tefrapol.

"Will Sir Basil and the others be alright?" asked the carriage's only passenger. He kept his voice as calm as he could, but Thalia heard the notes of panic slipping through the filter of his will. Still, it was a praiseworthy effort for one so young.

A precious young boy of twelve years old, the hundred colors of the Mavrodasos in Autumn crowned his head with a mop of hair that never wanted to sit straight. His eyes shone like the aurora in deepest winter with vibrant tones of violet and crimson. His cute and boyish face, alongside his gentle demeanor, quite thoroughly charmed the young lady of House Baccara the other night. Of course, just as he inherited the good looks of his brother - the Princeps Pleniflora - he also inherited his brother's oblivious nature towards feminine attention.

Thalia could not spare even a moment to look back at him, and see him clinging to the armrests of his chair like a drowning sailor might cling to driftwood. Nor did she think it wise to tell him what she saw not ten minutes ago, before Sir Basil told her to take Aris and run. However, she could not bring herself to lie to the brother of her liege, so she simply omitted the truth by saying, "Sir Basil said that he and the men would meet us back at Tefrapol. It's best to take him at his word."

Of course, Dame Thalia knew Sir Basil would not be joining them. The creatures - demons - that attacked the carriage dragged him from his horse not long after he cut a path through for Thalia and Aris to escape. May the LORD guard his soul from the dark.

Aris made a noise of dissatisfaction. It seemed that somewhere along the line, he became more canny than his elder brother... or at least more prone to show when he saw through evasion. Rather than call Thalia on what she left out, he asked, "What attacked us? Highwaymen? Briarfolk? That Daffodil giantess whose portrait my brother keeps painting?"

In spite of everything, that last one made Thalia snort with laughter. "No, the Maid of Charlemont isn't quite so ugly. T'was orcs, Aris."

>>5923753
"Orcs...?" Aris asked. It was not that he had never heard of such creatures, but rather that the answer went against the common knowledge and what he had been taught. Confusion filled his voice when he asked, "Scribe Ludwig says that there hasn't been orcs in the Mavrodasos for a thousand years. Was he wrong?"

"'What was true yesterday could be false tomorrow,'" Thalia said, quoting from the Violet Tome of Hope. "What Scribe Ludwig said may have been true before today, but now we know it is not. Which is why it's important that we reach Tefrapol and inform the garrison there of these pests."

She said this as much to herself as to Aris. She left something important out about the demons that attacked the carriage. They looked like orcs, moved like orcs, and LORD damn her if they did not smell like orcs, but they did not fight like orcs. A squealing sounder of orcs should fight like a tide of meat, overwhelming their foes with bodies and the weight of attrition. Bodies that they quickly replenish with the aid of any woman unfortunate or foolish enough to have allowed herself to be taken alive by the monstrosities.

These orcs fought like men.

Or rather, they fought like orcs under the control of men. They struck from ambush and tried for the most valuable target, rather than attempting to roll over Aris' honorguard with attrition tactics that would have bought the carriage more time to escape. They only reverted to the familiar and instinctual after the men-at-arms just barely rebuffed them. Had the orcs regrouped for another rush for the carriage, they would have gotten through. Who knew what would have become of Aris and Thalia then...

The trees flashed by in a blur as Thalia drove the carriage forwards. Slowly but surely, the great thickets of elder oaks and maple woods thinned out to younger trees spread further apart, a sign of the road nearing the edge of the Mavrodasos. The dancing lights of autumn's aurora began to peak through the canopy.

Before the carriage made it out, a woman stepped out from the treeline and into the middle of the road. Thalia could not tell if they were a bandit foolish enough to expect her to stop the carriage or a peasant gathering mushrooms and wild herbs from the forest. Either way, she had no intention of stopping for anyone save the Empress herself. With a quiet prayer that this fool would jump out of the road, she shouted a warning of, "Make way! Make way for House Pleniflora! And take heed, there are orcs about!"

The cloaked figure merely tilted her head, but she made no motion to get out of the way. Indeed, rather than move, she sunk into a deep stance stance that faced the team of horses and the carriage barreling down the road and raised her arms up as if she intended to grab the creatures. Her face was veiled in shadow, but for a brief moment Thalia could see a shock of orange ginger hair fluttering next to her cheek.

>>5923754

Then the horses crashed into her.

No, that wasn't quite right. She grabbed the horses by the throat and lifted them up off the ground with all the ease of a guardsman picking up an urchin thief by the scruff of their neck. As she lifted them up, chains of black iron engraved with Gardener runes burst from the ground and wrapped around the carriage, bringing it to a screaming and sudden halt. The shock of the impact threw Aris into the plush cushions of the seats opposite his own, and flung Thalia from the driver's chair like a catapult.

Thalia's armor was already deployed, and her helmet quickly folded out as she flew through the air. With the help of her armorsilks, it cushioned her from the skidding collision with the ground, which tore up the road and left behind steel-carved gouges where she landed. She struggled back to her feet, but despair filled her heart when she heard the sickening snap of bone, and the dying whinnies of the carriage horse team.

"Orcs...? You should have looked more closely." A deep and thunderous masculine voice rumbled from the woman. She stalked towards Thalia slowly and deliberately. Her cloak blew in the wind, but it did not reveal what she wore beneath it. Something about her voice struck Thalia's heart with a frozen dagger that sent a chill up her spine. "Those were zombies that I sent after you, not orcs."

The woman's casual admittance of killing Sir Basil, Octavia, and the other men-at-arms set something off inside of Thalia. She couldn't content herself with running this bitch down and trampling her beneath the hooves of the horse team drawing the carriage, no. She reached for the gonne at her side, lit the match with a silent cantrip, and leveled the barrel at the woman's head.

With a thundering crack, the weapon fired.

A ball of iron an inch across shot past the horses as speeds the human eye could not perceive, crashing through the air with enough force to pierce through all but the heartiest of armorsilks and even dent a steel plate harness. The khemically treated powder lent such great speeds to the ball that it ripped through sound itself, tearing through the noise it made on its hundredth of a second journey towards the woman's forehead. With force enough to shatter even the heavy bones of an ogre and pierce the thick skull of a troll, it should have turned the woman's head into paste.

Emphasis on the words should have. The woman made a great show of being knocked back by the shot, but just as quickly recovered with a smirk on her face and the iron bullet in her teeth. With a chomp, the bullet shattered into a dozen shards of iron, as if crushed beneath incomprehensible pressure.

>>5923755
"Oh, there's a fire in your belly! I didn't expect that from some no-named babysitter..." the woman mocked as she marched down the road towards Thalia. Her lips curled into a pensive frown before she nodded to herself and declared, "Rejoice, Thalia of Begonia! I shall show you mercy, for I see a greater purpose for you than the breeding pits. Not that I mean to deny you the joys of motherhood, but-"

"Leave Thalia alone!" The small figure of Aris interposed itself between Thalia and the interloper. He spread his arms out protectively. For just a brief moment, Thalia saw his brother's shadow, heard his brother's voice from him. "I'm the one you're after, right? I'll go with you peacefully, so let her leave."

Thalia tried to pull herself to her feet, but chains pulled her back to the ground. She hissed out a curse, "Dammit, Aris... if you could have run, you should have run away."

Aris swallowed nervously, before emphatically shaking his head. "No. It's a noble's duty to sacrifice himself for the sake of his subordinates. A knight sacrifices for his smallfolk, a lord sacrifices for his knights, a princeps sacrifices for his lords. That how things ought to be."

The woman reaches out to Aris with a looming hand wrapped in chains. The same hand that so effortlessly snapped the neck of one of the draft horses that had pulled the carriage. The image of this woman doing the very same to her charge flitted through Thalia's mind. The looming hand came down on Aris' head, and before Thalia could think, she shouted, "No, don't!"

Right as the interloper ruffled the young boy's hair, what parts of her face not covered in shadow splitting into a large and toothy grins. "Well spoken, young one! I shall be merciful to you as well - indeed, very merciful! Though your request is one I cannot give. I need both of you to accompany me - leave no trace and all of that..."

Once more chains burst from the ground. They wrapped Thalia, Aris, and even the corpses of the horses and carriage in a cocoon of rune-stamped iron. With inhuman force that Thalia could not even begin to struggle against, the chains dragged her down, into the earth...

===
The next morning, you are awoken by... Roll 1d100
>Hilde. Or, really, one of her constructs that carries coffee to her where ever she's sleeping. Which tonight was... your bed?
>Olanna. The men have just finished up their drill and are ready to move out.
>One of the maids. It appears that the cat couldn't resist the canary, and Joana has someone for you to speak with.
>Sir Damien. He seems cross. What is he complaining about now? Maybe it's a good time to throw the scarf at him.
>A raven with a letter that bears a sunflower seal.
>(Write In)

Rolled 10 (1d100)

>>5923756
>A raven with a letter that bears a sunflower seal

Rolled 67 (1d100)

>>5923756
>One of the maids. It appears that the cat couldn't resist the canary, and Joana has someone for you to speak with.
all of the corrupted lady knights have masculine voices ?
>>5923763
sheesh

Rolled 91 (1d100)

>>5923756
>One of the maids. It appears that the cat couldn't resist the canary, and Joana has someone for you to speak with.

Rolled 82 (1d100)

>>5923756
>One of the maids. It appears that the cat couldn't resist the canary, and Joana has someone for you to speak with.

>>5923788
>all of the corrupted lady knights have masculine voices ?
The witch's favorite music genre is metal so she needed them to be able to nail the vocals. I do hope she has one or two with feminine voices though.

>>5923756
>One of the maids. It appears that the cat couldn't resist the canary, and Joana has someone for you to speak with.

>>5923828
We need to get the Witch into Halestorm or Nightwish.

Rolled 95 (1d100)

>>5923756
>>Sir Damien. He seems cross. What is he complaining about now? Maybe it's a good time to throw the scarf at him.

>>5921914
Yeah, right now it feels like faces are my weakest point, so faces are what I need to practice most. Though I can't just leave out body and other stuff, either. Drawing is tough.
>>5923788
It has to do with what they are. Remember, the Witch of Depravity pulled out the souls of each of her knights/dolls for other, more X rated purposes. When she's not playing with them, she's wearing them on her necklace.

Anahita really, REALLY wanted to add Louise to her collection by making her soul the green gemstone. Fortunately, the curse inversion Rene snuck onto her with a kiss in the Dreamlands caused Louise's Id to devour the chain devil, rather than the other way around. Resulting in the forced awakening of her inner voice and the artificial melanosis that allowed her to form THE ULTIMATE WEAPON in her dreamspace.
>>5923828
No, she'd prefer EDM, techno, or club music. Better to do X-Rated things that cannot be posted on blue boards (her favorite activities, which will always be offscreened). Her favorite of the Sins is debauchery, after all.
>>5923835
It is sad that the thing most people remember about Nightwish is the Epic Maneuver music that was lifted from Ghost Love Score...

>>5924238
>It has to do with what they are. Remember, the Witch of Depravity pulled out the souls of each of her knights/dolls for other, more X rated purposes. When she's not playing with them, she's wearing them on her necklace.
Sure, but one would think she'd prefer feminine voices more, although changing their voices to masculine fits the corruption archetype.

>No, she'd prefer EDM, techno, or club music. Better to do X-Rated things that cannot be posted on blue boards
you could add brazilian funk to that, also suited for red board stuff, kek

Rolled 23 (1d100)

>>5923756
>One of the maids. It appears that the cat couldn't resist the canary, and Joana has someone for you to speak with.

Rolled 3 (1d20)

Do not worry about this roll. You want it to be nice and low.

>>5924468
it is indeed nice and low

>>5924238
Messed up the trip, but thanks for the insight!

>>5924468
you said it, and now I'm curious as to what this wascfor.

File: Rebecca.png (291 KB, 396x1266)

291 KB PNG

Winner: The cat could not resist the canary.

A knock on your door comes at some Lightless hour in the morning. Three swift knocks and then two with a pause between means that one of Joana's apprentices waits for you beyond the door. As much as you may want, you cannot roll over and ignore her with a grumble of "go away". You sent Joana to investigate the time-sensitive manner of the supplies Damien and the Earl had young Lothar purchase on their behalf. If Joana sent back one of the maids to bring you a report, it meant that someone took the bait.

"One moment," you groan. Groggily, you reach for the lamp upon your nightstand and push a bit of mana into the bone to light up your room. Standing from your bed and straightening out your nightgown, you call for the maid to, "Come in. What have you got for me?"

A mousy looking maid enters your quarters. You recognize her as Rebecca, the scullery maid who works in the castle kitchens, and you immediately understand why Joana took her on as an apprentice. Nothing about the girl stands out. She has the sort of face that would easily get lost in a crowd, her bust size is neither particularly impressive nor unusually smooth and flat, her complexion could place her from any major town or city from across the Daffodil Kingdom.

The flashiest things about her was the maid outfit she wore as part of the castle staff and the perfume she's wearing. Lilacs and roses, applied quite heavily, but not so heavily that the scent becomes unpleasant. It's the sort of perfume that a woman might wear on a night she plans to do this and that with her darling. A part of you hopes her duties did not interrupt her night too much, while the rest of you despairs that your maid staff has better luck that you when it comes to finding a good man.

In any case, in another dress, on a less romantic night, you would have overlooked her as "another village girl".

No wonder Joana snapped her up. In the business of cloaks and daggers, standing out is deadly and blending in is vital, and you're quite certain this girl could blend in anywhere. Her demeanor is appropriately demure before her liege as well. When she enters, she drops to one knee and bows her head, saying, "Milady, Teacher has a message for you: the cat got caught clawing at the canary. She is under the impression that you would like to come pet it personally. Shall I escort you there?"

It takes you a second to parse what Rebecca meant. In the King's Daffish, what she really said was that Joana caught someone messing around with the supplies, and wanted to know if you wished to question him personally. After weighing the idea in your head for a moment, you nod.

"Some things are best learned first hand," you tell Rebecca. She still kneels before you, her head still bowed, so you give her the order that she's waiting for. "Help me dress, then we'll go see who Joana managed to catch."

>>5924571
Rebecca helps you into your town clothes. Nothing particularly fanciful today, just a blue doublet patterned with a white narzissenmark worn with a set of grey working britches. Her help is appreciated all the same, especially with how groggy you feel right now. At this Lightless hour of the morning, you suspect you would have put the doublet on backwards, or left a few buttons in the middle undone for an "interesting" display of fashion that would have been the talk of the town for weeks if anyone saw it. Things you'd never hear the end of from Hilde.

The last thing you slip on is the choker that contains your folding plate. You should have no need for it tonight, not when your armorsilks are stored away in the ring upon your finger. Rebecca all but shoved it into your hands, though, and you won't say no to more protection.

"So, what sort of cat are we dealing with, here?" you ask Rebecca as she guides you from the castle grounds and down to the dockyard where Joana's trap has been set. You suspect Rosarian spies, perhaps one of the traders that comes into town every now and again. It would be good to know what you're dealing with before you get there. "They didn't happen to be wearing a collar made of roses, did they?"

"No, milady, just a flashy golden one," Rebecca says something that makes you quirk your brow. When you make a questioning sound, she quickly apologizes, "Forgive me, milady, that was unprofessional of me. 'Tis not a cat from the Roslands we caught this morn, 'tis a servant of that repulsive false god. An arrogant little creature, it thought its blasphemous faith would shield it from any trap we might have placed."

You nod grimly. "Heretics always believe themselves fighting for a righteous cause. That very belief is why they can commit such atrocities against the goodly folk of this world. If you can remember that, bringing down the hammer of righteousness upon them becomes easier."

A dark and zealous look that's all too familiar of the words you always bite back fills Rebecca's eyes as she declares, "May all the rotten blasphemers in this world be dragged into the abyss and face eternal damnation!"

You sigh. That one of Joana's students reflects the zeal you had at your age... it fills you with an emotion that you cannot quite describe. In one hand you hold the joy of knowing that this servant of your household despises the Dark One just as you do. In the other hand you carry the weight of knowing that such a lust for retribution against evil must be tempered with the Light of the LORD'S mercy.

You do not deny her words, however, because you truly believe them yourself. But there is something you have to add to them. The same thing Good Father Durandal added to your own words: "And may all those who can find redemption, find it."

>>5924573
The look that passes across Rebecca's face at those words tells you all you need to know about where her heart lay. Beneath the light of the autumn aurora, the dancing gold and crimson as the stars glimmer behind the Light of the LORD's protection, her face moves between fury and confusion before at last it lands on a warm and bright smile. The first true crack in the stony face wore by the mousy girl this evening. "Yes. You're right, of course, milady. I shall pray that this cat is one who can become a good child with the right affections."

You can't help but laugh at the young woman's words. Now she's almost gone the other way entirely... an experience you remember going through, in the weeks after the Good Father Durandal taught you how to temper your zeal. Your remind her to, "Don't forgive your enemies just yet, Rebecca. A prayer for redemption is appropriate, but redemption can only come after punishment for their misdeeds."

Rebecca pouts at those words, but mumbles an affirmation, "As you say, milady."

At this lightless hour, Liliendorf's streets are empty and quiet. Though the village has grown to where it can almost be called a proper town, there is not enough traffic in trade for folk to man the docks at every hour of the night. The dawn will come soon enough, and before it some folk will head off to work their trades, but right now the streets belong to you and Rebecca alone. Well, and the Night Patrol, but they are fewer in number than you'd like for how large the town has become.

"Remind me to increase the village's budget for the night watch..." you absently tell Rebecca. The corners of your face curl into a frown; with the thought of heretics in Liliendorf, even if only one or two, it brings to mind the need to improve security. You'll write up the order before you leave. "I've scarcely seen a lantern from their patrols all night. Liliendorf's grown too large too quickly."

"Of course, milady." Rebecca says. Then she tells you, "We're here. Joana should be waiting for you inside."

The dockside warehouse looks little different in the dark than it does in the day. Damien and the Earl of Lavendel know how to pick a discrete place to store their peculiarly procured goods. Just as Rebecca is perhaps the most nondescript woman you've ever met, this might just be the most generic warehouse in the village. The sign even names it Smith & Sons Storage, a name you're quite sure could be found in every town and city in the Kingdom if you looked hard enough for it.

Ready for whatever the cat may be, you throw open the doors and walk inside.

What you find within is no cat caught in a crate.

>>5924574
The crates of supplies have been shifted to make a wall surrounding the the center of the warehouse. A circle has been painted with black tar upon the ground, at the center of which a goat has been sacrificed to the lidless, baleful eye of the Dark One. Incense burns on the ground, filling the air with a smoke that tries its best to fog the mind. The blessings of the LORD protect you, but the same can not be said of Joana and her other apprentices, who have been bound to the support beams holding up the roof.

Black tentacles spill forth from the blasphemous seal upon the ground, crawling towards Joana and the others with ill intent. Already their clothes have been torn in unmentionable places, though the tentacles have not yet begun the vile work of turning your loyal maids into their seedbeds.

It takes you a moment to take it all in, but when you do, something clicks in your mind. A realization you should have made a while ago. Turning to Rebecca with fury on your face and betrayal in your voice, you demand to know "Girl, what have you done!?"

A stabbing pain answers your question, as Rebecca drives a knife into your side with eyes filled with tears. Had you been more awake, had you been prepared, the force of such a light and delicate young woman crashing into you would not have knocked you from your feed. As you fall to the ground, she apologizes with a hiccup in her voice.

"I'm sorry, milady. You're the cat."

Louise has taken 20 damage from Rebecca's Sneak Attack!
Roll 1d20 for a Fortitude Save Against Poison
Roll 1d20 for a Will Save to avoid going berserk
Regardless of your choice below, roll an additional 1d20
>Demons. The demons are the priority, they must be purged from your village. Kill them first, deal with Rebecca later.
>Rebecca. That traitor. That apostate. There's an old rule, something the King once wrote into a book that you feel applies right now: always kill a traitor before an enemy.
>Joana. She and the others are your priority. The LORD protects you from whatever is in that incense, but they have no such providence. You need to get them out of here, before the Demons have a chance to begin their vile work.
>You cannot do this alone. You need to call the Watch here as soon as possible. Between Rebecca and the demon's casting it might be tricky, but you think you know just the spell.
>By the LORD of Light, when you finish purging this demon, you are going to spank Rebecca so hard that her ass will be as red as roses for the next century. Deliberately fail your will save against Berserking
>+Call upon the Litany of Blackrose. You need more than mere fists to crush this heresy.
>+Your arm aches with accursed power.
>+Expend your martial focus to roll twice and take the better on your Fortitude Save.
>+Expend your martial focus to roll twice and take the better on your Will Save.

Rolled 9 (1d20)

>>5924576
>Joana. She and the others are your priority. The LORD protects you from whatever is in that incense, but they have no such providence. You need to get them out of here, before the Demons have a chance to begin their vile work.
>+Call upon the Litany of Blackrose. You need more than mere fists to crush this heresy.
That bitch! (Good play, Rebecca, and now that reaction to our mercy makes a lot of sense)

Rolled 14 (1d20)

>>5924576
>Joana. She and the others are your priority. The LORD protects you from whatever is in that incense, but they have no such providence. You need to get them out of here, before the Demons have a chance to begin their vile work.
>+Call upon the Litany of Blackrose. You need more than mere fists to crush this heresy.

Rolled 14 (1d20)

>>5924576
>Joana. She and the others are your priority. The LORD protects you from whatever is in that incense, but they have no such providence. You need to get them out of here, before the Demons have a chance to begin their vile work.
>+Your arm aches with accursed power.
fuck, unless someone got a hold of her family I'm going to spank that bitch later.

Rolled 10, 1, 8 = 19 (3d20)

>>5924576
>Joana. She and the others are your priority. The LORD protects you from whatever is in that incense, but they have no such providence. You need to get them out of here, before the Demons have a chance to begin their vile work.
We delegate one job, and it results in our subordinates being put in bondage and at the mercy of a tentacle-monster impeccable taste, QM. If Damien finds out about this he'll have inspiration for his next artistic work.

>>5924576
>Joana. She and the others are your priority. The LORD protects you from whatever is in that incense, but they have no such providence. You need to get them out of here, before the Demons have a chance to begin their vile work.
>+Call upon the Litany of Blackrose. You need more than mere fists to crush this heresy.

>>5924468
btw what was this roll for ? if this was for the dmg and Rebecca did 20 from a 3, I assume we'd be down with a high roll. also what's our max health again ?
>>5924661
roll as well my dude

>>5924667
>HP
91 total HP, I believe.

>>5924667
I don't know how this is the first quest i play in on this site.

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>>5924713

Rolled 6 (1d20)

>>5924661

>>5924576
>Joana. She and the others are your priority. The LORD protects you from whatever is in that incense, but they have no such providence. You need to get them out of here, before the Demons have a chance to begin their vile work.
>+Call upon the Litany of Blackrose. You need more than mere fists to crush this heresy.
>+Expend your martial focus to roll twice and take the better on your Fortitude Save.
It's VERY weird that Rebecca insisted we take the armor along. It makes me think she might be coerced, except that talk about blasphemers was too laden with double meaning.

Rolled 19 (1d20)

>>5924789

>>5924789
>It's VERY weird that Rebecca insisted we take the armor along. It makes me think she might be coerced, except that talk about blasphemers was too laden with double meaning.
yup, I'm kinda confused between her being forced to do it and she doing it outta being bought, but considering she gave us the folding plate choker even if we weren't gonna use it makes me go with the former for now.

Rolled 13 (1d20)

>>5924576
>>Joana. She and the others are your priority. The LORD protects you from whatever is in that incense, but they have no such providence. You need to get them out of here, before the Demons have a chance to begin their vile work.
>>+Call upon the Litany of Blackrose. You need more than mere fists to crush this heresy.

>>5924374
The masculine voices cannot be helped. Devils that specialize in combat have a strong tendency to be male, and these are her champions. Though when she's doing this and that with them, she partially returns their souls to their bodies and gives them their original voices.

There may be one or two who have feminine voices. If they do, they're probably her infiltration specialists.
>>5924504
>>5924667
This was to determine if she succeeded on a critical strike or not. That would have hit Louise with some debuffs and an additional 12 damage, as she's a fairly strong rogue-type (Rpgue is not her class, but shes roughly on par with Joana, and without the leg problems).

For those interested, the damage calls were: 2 from weapon, 4 from her Dexterity, and 14 from Expose Vulnerability.
>>5924579
>>5924789
>>5924796
A lot of this will be elaborated on next post. I did not plan on Becky existing, but her existence is a good thing for the quest I think. I feel like stakes fell off after the tower got taken, so she and... I still don't know her title, but Miss Orange, are here to drag them back.
>>5924648
To be fair, your squire is doing just fine offscreen. Excelling, even. Of course, he has your second, a barbarian princess, and her gigachad brother mentoring and motivating him, so...
>>5924591
As with the other things, this will be elaborated on later.
>>5924713
Welcome, anon!

>>5924796
>>5924789
It may be she respects or likes Louise, but is also a cultist of the Dark One. She may see it as a regrettable duty of the faith.

>>5925045
That doesn't explain the armor

>>5925050
A vague sense of honor? Irrational behavior bred by that internal conflict and a crisis of conscience?

>>5925064
Or she figured that the armour would make Louise trust her more, and was confident between the backstab, drugged incense and poison she'd be able to take us down.

>>5925109
>Or she figured that the armour would make Louise trust her more
this would make sense if it was before we decided going to the place but that wasn't the case.

>drugged incense
what drugged incense ?

>>5925109
>>5925173
nvm, for some reason I only read the fog and skipped the incense, kek
>>5925041
>The masculine voices cannot be helped. Devils that specialize in combat have a strong tendency to be male, and these are her champions.
fair

>This was to determine if she succeeded on a critical strike or not. That would have hit Louise with some debuffs and an additional 12 damage, as she's a fairly strong rogue-type
alright, girl was doing well under the tutoring then
>For those interested, the damage calls were: 2 from weapon, 4 from her Dexterity, and 14 from Expose Vulnerability.
makes sense that over half of the dmg was from the attack of opportunity kek

>A lot of this will be elaborated on next post. I did not plan on Becky existing, but her existence is a good thing for the quest I think. I feel like stakes fell off after the tower got taken, so she and... I still don't know her title, but Miss Orange, are here to drag them back.
okie dokie

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Postponing tonight's update to tomorrow because I got next to no sleep last night due to work stress and I am already crashing. Might be super early tomorrow or it might be usual time. Will do a bit of lore.

Hot Lore
>There is an ever-present aurora in the night sky whose colors change between the four seasons.
>Autumn is Red, Yellow, and Orange.
>Winter is Red, Indigo, and Violet.
>Spring is Indigo, Blue, and Green.
>Summer is Blue, Yellow, and Orange.
>It is generally believed to be a sign of the LORD of Light's protection against the horrors of the Long Night.
>We don't talk about the Long Night. That was a bad time. Human civilization is still traumatized by it, to a point where most history from that period is just... gone.

>Beneath the LORD there are 14 hosts of Angels
>4 Thrones, 8 Aspects, 16 Principals, 32 Theorems, 64 Forms, 128 Crowns, 256 Eyes, 512 Voices, 1024 Hearts, 2048 Shields, 4096 Swords, 8192 Seraphs, 16384 Cherubs, 32768 Archangels, and 65536 Angels.
>Each Angel follows the lineage of a Throne and an Aspect, and occasionally a Principal.
>These are real beings, capable of being called into the world by the Priests of the Holy Light.
>It is said that the Pope once called a Throne to advise her, though it is unknown if this is true or false.
>For most priests, it is a great exertion to call even the lowest rank of Angel to aid them.
>Do not believe the people who say some angels have betrayed the LORD and turned to the Dark One.
>Such talk is heretical.
>The Church mimics this hierarchy in its traditional structure, with one Pope, 4 Cardinals for the 4 Directions, et cetera.
>Some nations (cough Daffodil Kingdom and his Dukes of the 4 Directions) also mimic this hierarchy as it suits them.

Things to consider: Remember your boons from Post 1 of this thread.

alright OP, sleep tight
>>5925360
>We don't talk about the Long Night. That was a bad time. Human civilization is still traumatized by it, to a point where most history from that period is just... gone.
is it something akin to their dark age or more like that time the sun didn't appear for a whole year in europe ?

>Do not believe the people who say some angels have betrayed the LORD and turned to the Dark One.
>Such talk is heretical.
hmm

>>5925372
I'm picturing something like (actual Netflix anime spoilers) what Erzsébet Báthory pulled off in Castlevania: Nocturne

>>5925360
Besides the Daffodils and Roslands, what other post-Gardener successor states are around if any?

>>5925360
>>4 Thrones, 8 Aspects, 16 Principals, 32 Theorems, 64 Forms, 128 Crowns, 256 Eyes, 512 Voices, 1024 Hearts, 2048 Shields, 4096 Swords, 8192 Seraphs, 16384 Cherubs, 32768 Archangels, and 65536 Angels.
So how close is Louise to being to name each one of them in order of importance? Alternately how far down the list can she go.

This seems like something particularly pious people would do, like memorizing the value of pi to some ridiculously large number of places

It seems like there should be a category that has 2 angels in it, but said category is curiously absent. Is that just a coincidence or is there a reason for that?

>>5925041
Why would the combat devils give a damn about the beliefs that the former occupants of “their” bodies once had?

>>5925109
Rebecca does have a number of things going for her in this fight based upon her preparations.
>The poison on her dagger is a special one
>The incense means that Joana and her students are going to be useless in a fight even if you free them.
>The partial summons of a Greater Demon (name change pending for these guys).
>She got the first blow in for basically free.
>Her class gives her access to some retroactive "Just as Planned" stuff to fill in gaps I didn't account for. This is very limited on her part, and she's a glass cannon compared to your walking tank, so its probably gonna be saved for her being very good at getting away alive unless you guys royally fuck up this encounter.
>>5925179
Note that Expose Vulnerability is less circumstance based than sneak attack, but it does eat at her actions and only applies once per round. Though sense she mostly attacks once per round, she basically deals an extra 4d6/14 damage as long as I can justify an excuse for her to find a weakpoint.
>>5925372
Okay so take that time Iceland exploded and the sun was blocked out for a year in Europe/North Africa/West Asia, multiply the duration by "haha, fuck your civilization, Gardeners!", make it global, and then throw in a fuckton of Demons pillaging and raping their way across the ruins. There are still some areas where the Human population is enslaved to demons (and occasionally, crusades to try and break those areas). Big places are the Southern Tundra (south of Camellia and Sonnenblume), the great deserts, some of the Archipelagos (especially the Shattered Bridge, which has a lot of Gardener ruins).

As for betrayer angels and >>5925566
There are things that should not be worried about regarding the cosmology. This is one of those things.

That being said, the one thing I can assure you is that the LORD of Light is in fact Lawful Good, and the Dark One is in fact Chaotic Evil. There is not going to be some grand reveal where "AKCHEWALLY, the 'LORD' of Light and his Angels are Fake and the Demons were the good guys all alooooooooooooong!". That cliche is tired and reeks of writers who hate their parents for making them go to church on Sunday.
>>5925480
Louise has a tome naming all of the Angels in her collection, but she does not have all of them memorized. She's not a monk. She does have the lineage of her Patron Angel memorized though, back to the Throne from which it descends.
>>5925403
I sketched out a rough map that's on the QTG discord for now that shows the immediate region. It has your immediate neighbors and the regions of influence for the 4 Cardinal Dukes with the Daffodil Kingdom.

Every nation in the world descends from the Gardeners, who were a global civilization before they suffered a systems collapse that got exacerbated by the Long Night.
>>5925903
Blame the Witch of Depravity for that. She wanted evil versions of the Knights she captured... so she made evil versions of the Knights she captured.

>>5926024
>That cliche is tired and reeks of writers who hate their parents for making them go to church on Sunday.
I love you platonically.

>>5926024
>That cliche is tired and reeks of writers who hate their parents for making them go to church on Sunday.
Based.

>"the rape demon was actually just repressed and trying to make other people wake up from being robots, you just don't get it because it hasn't happened to you yet"
Kill all demons.

>>5926024
>Okay so take that time Iceland exploded and the sun was blocked out for a year in Europe/North Africa/West Asia, multiply the duration by "haha, fuck your civilization, Gardeners!", make it global, and then throw in a fuckton of Demons pillaging and raping their way across the ruins. There are still some areas where the Human population is enslaved to demons (and occasionally, crusades to try and break those areas).
Zam, apocalipse scenario.

>That being said, the one thing I can assure you is that the LORD of Light is in fact Lawful Good, and the Dark One is in fact Chaotic Evil. There is not going to be some grand reveal where "AKCHEWALLY, the 'LORD' of Light and his Angels are Fake and the Demons were the good guys all alooooooooooooong!". That cliche is tired and reeks of writers who hate their parents for making them go to church on Sunday.
Lul. Tbf I was expecting it to be just a nod to the Bible where satan managed to get 1/3 of angels to revolt with him. Ain’t no way that a being whose high priestess is the “sleep, eat, grape, repeat” witch is gonna pull a gnostic reversal.

>Every nation in the world descends from the Gardeners, who were a global civilization before they suffered a systems collapse that got exacerbated by the Long Night.
So the gardeners were like rome+atlantis on steroids, neat

Rolled 20 (1d20)

I forgot to roll this during this afternoon's post. Do not worry about it.

>>5926336
Pls let this be something for us this time

>>5926206
>Ain’t no way that a being whose high priestess is the “sleep, eat, grape, repeat” witch is gonna pull a gnostic reversal.
I suppose it always could have been a grey-and-gray situation. I mean, the LORD does like to possess beautiful young women and make them do exotic dancing poses atop the corpses of their foes. I guess instead he's just Lawful ECCENTRIC Good.

>>5926341
Kinda different when it’s only a pose after the battle ends instead of using them as living onaholes for their goon sheshs

>>5926344
Well yeah, one's obviously WORSE, and there's no way the Dark One isn't a monster, but I suppose without this QM note we might have had OOC reason to doubt the intentions of the LORD.

>>5926348
I always side with the ones who want to demolish devils. Simple.

>>5926358
Aren't we actively in a spiteful war against fellow followers of The LORD?

>>5926367
I don't care who ELSE we are beefing, so long as we're also kicking the shit out of hellspawn.

>>5926206
>gnostic reversal
That reminds me, if I were going to make up a doctrine for a fringe sect it might have the 2-person rank above the "Thrones" held by two "Orders". One is Logos, embodiment of the order of the unchanging world of Ideas, and the other is Demiurgos, embodiment of the order of the changing world of Matter.
I also totally forgot how other divine beings like the fortune goddess fit into this. Something about it was color-themed and fortune was Magenta.
The Dark One is presumably an embodiment of order-defying chaos, the subhuman and subnatural diabolical urge to defile and destroy simply for its own sake. If he was on the same rank as the other two "Orders" then it might fit the biblical math of 1/3 of the angelic host defecting to the side of evil. This of course all being entirely hypothetical no need to send the inquisition QM.

>>5926024
>Patron Angel
Are we going to meet / ?Manifest? them at some point?

Also since Louise has been ordained where does that put her in the Church's organizational Hierarchy? Further, how does that interact with her responsibilities to the Crown since notionally any sort of mutually exclusive request that ends in the Crown vs Pope seems like a very difficult question for someone in Louse's position let alone someone as pious as she is to have an answer, if it were to ever be posed.

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Winner: Prioritize on rescuing the maids. Call upon the Litany.
Louise's HP: 83/103
Fortitude Save 9 + 12 = 21 vs DC 25 Poison. Minor Failure.
Will Save 14 + 10 - 2 = 22 vs DC 20 Berserking. Success!
General Combat Check 14 + 16 - 2 = 28

As you force yourself back onto your feet, you feel the pain in your side fade. Not in the gently itching way of the LORD's blessing upon your healthy body as it stitches your wounds back together. Something mutes that feeling in your side, a prickling and numbing sensation.

Poison.

Rebecca must have coated her blade in poison. Not just any poison, either. The LORD's blessing upon your body heals all wounds, rebukes disease, and rejects all poisons that would leave you less than hale and hearty and of sound mind. You have not known sickness nor lasting injury since the day you slew the Apostate King. For you to get tipsy from alcohol takes enough to ruin a woman's liver three times over, or so Hilde has said. Only maladies born of curses or woven from malignant magics can pierce that protection.

This poison must be laden with some manner of curse, then, or otherwise crafted with heretical magics. You can feel it numb the wound that Rebecca left in your side. Heat spreads across your body like a wildfire consumes a forest after a three-year drought, dizzying and feverish and lighting up your entire body with a bright red flush as hot blood rushes through your veins. Your gut flips over upon itself as if you've eaten something rotten. Sweat pours out from every pore on your body, soaking through your clothes in vein attempt to cool you down. But for one more symptom, it would be a perfect match for the worst bout of influenza you suffered during your youth.

Your loins itch and leak. Not with the sweetness that racks your body when you comfort yourself at nights with thoughts of your ever-distant beloved. Not with the prayerful ecstasy you experience in deepest meditation on scripture and the LORD of Light's love for all His creation. It is a pain that your body is desperately trying to soothe, an itch like a mosquito bite that cries out to be scratched.

Glaring at the treacherous servant, your mind races through a list of those few toxins that can actually harm you. None of them have these symptoms. Perhaps if you drank enough harlot's joy, you might experience something similar, but that tonic supposedly empties the mind of every thought and feeling but pleasure. Here and now, you feel such exquisite pain that your knees shake as you force yourself to your feet. You've been through worse, but you can count the number of times on one hand.

Once you're on your feet, you scarcely have time to take a breath before Rebecca rushes you again.

>>5926530
Honestly, you don't know why she gave you the opportunity to stand again in the first place. In her place, you would have rushed in and given your opponent the mercy stroke before they could rise back to their feet. If she had doubts or some strange sense of honor, she should not have stabbed you in the back to begin with. If she was being coerced, she should have told you. If she wished to fight you head on... well, even with a body burning with a painful parody of lust, you can show her what foolish idea that is.

Rebecca is certainly cunning if she managed to turn a trap set by Joana on you and her both. She clearly has skill with a knife from the precision with which she stabbed you. She is no doubt incredibly meticulous, preparing a toxin that can bypass your blessings, staging this scene, and bringing every variable she could to her favor. But she lacks two incredibly important things in a fight that you have in spades.

First, you stand head and shoulders above her.

Second, your arms are each as thick with muscle as her thighs.

The idea that a smaller and lighter person can dance around a musclebound oaf is a myth born from stage plays and four box stories written by men and women who wish the lie was true. The parable of the slinger and the giant does not laude the slinger for being the victorious underdog, but rather celebrates his superior weaponry as the fruit of human wisdom. A naked giant with a spear dies easily. A giant with a sling in hand would have crushed the slinger beneath a boulder.

Just so, a maid with a poisoned dagger can stab a knight in the back and remove them from the battlefield. A maid charging a knight head on gets what is expected. Even unarmed, against a girl Joana trained, you have reach, strength, technique, and most of all: experience.

You grab the wrist that carries her knife and twist it, forcing Rebecca to drop the weapon before anything else. Of course, you do not waist her momentum, as you sidestep her lunge and trip her up, sending her tumbling to the ground. Every explosive movement of your muscles sends lances of pain through your body, makes the pox-like itching in your loins worse and worse. You hiss in agony, but force yourself to ignore it.

Unlike her, you do not waste your opponent falling to the ground. Before she can bring herself to her feet, you hoist her up with one hand about her throat. She grabs at it, trying to break your grip, but your hand is too burly, too powerful for her to even move one of your finger.

"That was foolish, Rebecca," you growl at her, glaring into her brown eyes. The baleful light of the summoning circle flickers in her irises, but that can wait for later. She's the biggest problem right now, and figuring her out is your highest priority. "What did you possibly hope to accomplish? You should have finished me while I was down, not tried for a fair fight."

>>5926531

"I don't want to kill you, milady," Rebecca grunts past the hand around her throat. Her feet kick out weakly, but she cannot do much at arm's length to escape your grasp. "Your words, earlier... I want to save you. They said the Butcher of Alans would be just that, a monster in the shape of maiden, but you've a noble heart I've seen it! You deserve a chance to escape this cage of blinding light, just like the rest of us. I'm sure once you experienced the love of our Nameless Lord and the joys his angels can bring us wyfs, you wi-!"

You cut her blasphemy off by tightening your grip around her throat.

"You know, I almost hoped those vile cultists were threatening you, Rebecca," you tell her. She seems aghast, but you continue. "Joana picked you herself for the castle staff. You spend your days off helping the elderly with their chores and reading stories to children at the library. How can a good kid like you be a true believer in this blasphemy?"

"How can a noble soul follow in the footsteps of hypocrites?" Rebecca grunts out a question of her own in answer. Your eyes narrow, but you let her speak. "The church preaches nobility and sacrifice yet gild their cathedrals in gold and precious gems. They preach purity to the masses, yet the streets of Leripol are filled with child prostitutes soliciting men of the cloth into dens of sinc. The angels of the Nameless Lord are forceful in there their love, but they give it only to those ready to receive it, and if it was not true, there would be no joy in i-"

Once more you squeeze her throat with your hand, choking off her words.

"Enough of this," you growl. Your body shivers. Perhaps the painful mockery of lust coursing through your veins is responsible for it. Or it could be the sheer and unyielding rage filling you with every word of this blasphemy. "Give me one good reason why I should not crush your throat right now, apostate."

A dark look comes over Rebecca's eyes as you address her not by her name, but by the word for those who have betrayed the faith. After a moment of thought, she grumbles that, "I can give you three, milady."

Perhaps it is some latent fondness that you have for the girl, but you relax your grip and tell her that, "I'm listening."

"First, the toxin," she says. You narrow your eyes. While you are interested in what it could have been, that won't be enough to make you spare one of the Dark One's true believers. "It's a blend of my own, concocted from the tears and passion freely given from an Angel of Love. Just half the dose I gave you was enough to open my dear, misguided teacher to the boundless love of the Lord. Once it takes you into His embrace, the joy will last for a week. I've hidden away an antidote for it that will find its way to your desk if you allow me to leave in peace, milady."

>>5926532
Your eyes narrow. While you have every confidence that you will shake the poison off, Joana and her students are another matter. You will need Joana to help you navigate the den of vipers that is Rosarium. So in the end, you nod, and tell her to, "Go on..."

With a sigh of disappointment, she says, "Second is a number. I cannot betray the true faith anymore than you can betray your false light, milady. But I suppose telling you just how many of our countrymen have been enlightened to the true path would do no harm. You will find that our numbers are more than you would think."

A number and an antidote. One to undo what she's done, the other information that you can give the Inquisition to help them upon their hunts for these foul apostates. Still, you may as well ask, "And the third?"

"Well, since you're being greedy..." Rebecca makes a voice that's far too cutesy, so you have to remind her of her place with a gentle squeeze around her throat. She looks suitably admonished, but that admonishment fades into a warm, almost apologetic smile. "Third is my promise to you, milady. My promise, and my sincerest apologies. You told me earlier that redemption has to wait until the villain has been appropriately punished, and I think I understand that now."

Her eyes become steely and determined. Has she decided to repent? Or... "I swear on my immortal soul that I am going to see you saved from the false god's clutches, milady. And I apologize for spilling the [brocollini]."

Whatever anger you felt at her first words fades into confusion when you hear her apology. "What? Broco-"

Around your neck, the goldsteel choker of your folding plate constricts with a sudden and unrelenting force, cutting off your airways and the blood flow to your head. On reflex you let Rebecca drop from your grasp and start tugging at it. She lands like a cat, watching you tug at the accursed item around your neck with a sad, apologetic look. Of course, if she was actually sorry about it, she'd deactivate the wretched artifice rather than watch you barely win a slight bit of relief from the pressure about your neck.

"Milady, you should have known better..." Rebecca chides you. Her eyes reflect the baleful light of the summoning circle, pulsing through the tentacles that have bound Joana and her pupils and wrapped their faces with an embrace that covers their mouths and nose. Oh LORD of Light, how did you forget about them? You were so preoccupied with Rebecca, that... "Why would a scullery maid know the combination of your arming safe? Teacher was the only one of your maids who knew how to fetch your harness."

>>5926534
You fall to your knees in despair. From the moment that you woke up this morning, Rebecca has played you like a fiddle and made you dance to her tune. The sweet, caring tone of voice that she has drives the knife even further into your gut when she says, "Don't worry. I really do want to save you, milady. I avoided piercing your organs when I stabbed you... this choker will stop squeezing once you've lost consciousness. So even if you think it's wrong... I'm going to redeem you, the Butcher of Alans, and show you the boundless love of the one true god!"

This is such BULLSHIT! a part of you roars. The thought strikes you like a fist to the gut, tears welling up in your eyes as the futility of your situation sinks in. No, not that you stupid cow! Why are we on our knees before a heretic, huh? Yeah, sure, she's a good kid, and that cult has her brainwashed from here to the Cherrywood Court, whatever! She's talking about redeeming us for the sake of that perverted shitheel of a false god? Screw that, we're the ones who do the redeeming!

So come on! Grit those teeth, get on your feet, and punch her in the face until she repents her sinful ways! And cut Joana and the others free before those tentacles make like a drunken, randy weir and start fucking them while you're at it! That part of you has a point, but you also need to consider the fact that the moment you let go of this choker, you will be on a very real, very short time limit. You're barely able to keep the blood flowing to your head, barely able to breathe as it is...

Oh our LORD- the ring, idiot! Put our damn armorsilks on before you give up, it'll be tight but they'll buy more time at least. Seriously, will we fight? Or will we perish like a dog?
>Perish like a dog.
>Fight.
>Release Restraint (Level 1)

Louise is currently poisoned and takes a -2 penalty on all D20 rolls.
Louise took 22 damage from the poison and is at 61 HP.
Rebecca's Natural 20: Rebecca used [Bamboozle] to make herself appear to be the greatest threat in the room, distracting you from the Greater Demon molesting Joana and her allies. This also gave her the opportunity to activate the bogus folding plate.

>>5926535
>Fight.

>>5926535
>Fight.

Nice fight its very tense. 10/10 so far qm keep it up.

>>5926535
>Fight.

>>5926545
I have to agree, I applaud QM on making the dialogue and flow of the encounter match dice results as they come in

>>5926535
>Fight

>>5926534
>"Milady, you should have known better..." Rebecca chides you. [...] "Why would a scullery maid know the combination of your arming safe? Teacher was the only one of your maids who knew how to fetch your harness."
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yE93ChQ4raE ffs man, girl is a natural rogue
>>5926535
>Fight.
https://youtu.be/XQ6zfBnADNE?t=105 fuck it. WE. BALL!!!!!!!!!!!!

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>>5926535
>>Fight.

>mfw this bitch
I want to kill her.

>>5926535
>Fight.

Since we're otherwise unarmed, having a rough idea of what the manifest looked like may help us locate something of use, since Blackthorn is really our only properly offensive option unless we start casting, and that's not really effective against non demonic targets, and, I'm starting to doubt that a Vincula is involved here.

>>5926535
>Fight.
Like there's really any other choice?

>fight
We can keep our hands on the choker while we cave her skull in with our legs

>>5926606
A bodyslam is always an option. With the raw strength at Louise's disposal she could probably shatter Rebecca's rib cage or even spine if she made a decent enough connection. Rock and a hard place and all that. I for one dread this upcoming DOUBLE PUNISHED Louise arc from losing Joana. My anger only grows.

>>5926535
>Fight!
Break her legs with low kicks, then STOMP

>>5926611
>spoiler
Chill man, that ain’t happening unless the bitch gets another nat 20.

>>5926029
>>5926119
There are cultural contexts where a "God is fake" narrative is not just whinging about having to go to church and a desire for mindless hedonism. A society that has had a stable religion and largely beneficial religious institution for over 2000 years is not one of them.

Thank a Catholic priest today, their desire to explore God's creation is the reason why modern science exists in the first place.
>>5926206
Yeah, the Long Night was really bad for everyone involved. I do not have full details on what happened, but basically: Gardener society divided against itself over petty bullshit and sociopaths exploiting good natured people who had become enamored with their society's brilliance at reaching the Apex. The institutions fell apart from incompetence and squabbling, and then someone who really wanted to be stepped on conjured up the rape monsters and things got out of hand. The only surviving institutions of the Gardeners are the Church of Holy Light, and the Scholars of Khemia, and even they declined drastically.
>>5926341
>>5926344
>>5926348
Note that the exotic dancing becomes her fighting style when the LORD takes the wheel, not just the end pose.
>>5926367
I wouldn't really say spiteful, and it's not really a war as much as continuous border skirmishes. They Call your king a tyrant, you call their ruling council a corrupt den of vipers, land switches hand every year after the planting is done, hostages get taken and exchanged, and while both sides are more than willing to kill eachother, it's understood to be for glory and valor more than victory.

This is one of the reasons why so many Roslanders want to take Louise as their bride. She's never been captured and ransomed before, and they admire that.
>>5926413
Ahahahahahahahaha.

This is simultaneously very close and very far away from what's going on, lmao.
>>5926524
Eventually, probably.

Her Order exists outside of the direct Church hierarchy and exists to acknowledge especially pious Knights. She has the ability to administer sacraments, but does not have voting rights in her diocese to determine the bishop (unlike a true priest). Her sole obligation to the Pope is that she is required to answer the call for a Crusade. Crusades in turn must be ratified by the Council of Archbishops, and can only be declared when the Inquisition requests it of the Pope. They only do so if their own forces are insufficient to purge the heretics.
>>5926545
>>5926547
Thanks!
>>5926566
I think I've said it OOC before and implied it in game, but... Louise's Id ate the Vincula, stole its power, and purified it thanks to Rene's curse inversion helping her along.
>>5926585
I mean, you can always choose to Release Restraint (Level 1). Even "Perish Like a Dog" is really just handing the reins to your Id.
>>5926606
>>5926625
I'll leave how Louise ends up fighting to the next post.
>>5926611
Joana and her students are not dead. Their bodies are just being prepared to birth demons is all.

>>5926747
>QM is literally just an incredibly horny TradCath
Checks out. Still a good quest.

>exotic dancing becomes her fighting style when the LORD takes the wheel, not just the end pose
God's top two angels are Panty and Stocking, confirmed.

>>5926747
>Thank a Catholic priest today, their desire to explore God's creation is the reason why modern science exists in the first place.
Yup, that’s right. Got me by surprise there OP, kek.
>I mean, you can always choose to Release Restraint (Level 1). Even "Perish Like a Dog" is really just handing the reins to your Id.
I thought the perish option was gonna be a game over screen for the fun of it. Like there’s gonna be a brief summary of corrupted Louise and then we returned to a checkpoint.

>>5926747
>I think I've said it OOC before and implied it in game, but... Louise's Id ate the Vincula, stole its power, and purified it thanks to Rene's curse inversion helping her along.
It was meant to imply that Rebecca's actions aren't due to At least anymore duress. Or at least otherwise currently being compelled via demonic means.

It just changes the tac of what encounter strategy could be presented, and that bonus damage isn't on the table at this point.

>>5926535
>Fight

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>>5926535
>[×] RIP
>[×] TEAR

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Right. How could you be so foolish? You almost let the poisoned words of a scheming apostate drive you past the brink of despair. The toxin coursing through you burns, but by the grace of the LORD that pain alone will not be enough to kill you. The trinket about your neck grips tighter than a vice, but if your hands can pull it apart then you have other means to hold it back upon your person. The words she spoke about sin and hypocrisy in the Holy City are true enough. Men and women have weak and fickle hearts, and those who seek out power and status stray from the righteous path as easily as they breathe.

You must have Faith.

Faith in yourself and your ability to overcome the trials that the LORD has laid out before you. Faith in your dearest friend Hilde and her talent as an artifex, that her works will see you through every battle alive, if not necessarily unscathed. Faith in the LORD that every graven sinner who spoke with His authority shall answer for the balance of their misdeeds when their soul comes to rest in the palm of His hand. Yes, you must have faith, for it alone shall shield you from the most deadly weapon that the heretic and apostate can raise against you: doubt.

All her words and actions have served to mix the poison of doubt into your thoughts. Doubt in yourself for missing the schemes playing out right under your nose. Doubt in your equipment for how she turned what should have been your full harness against you. Doubt in your convictions by conflating mortal men and women who succumb to temptations brought about through power and influence with the pure, divine souls of the LORD of Light and his Heavenly Host. All of this doubt to make you forget one very important thing.

You must have Faith. In yourself, in your friends, in the LORD above, you must have faith if you wish to accomplish anything of worth. To doubt yourself is self-defeating. To doubt your friends means to abandon bonds of fellowship and trust. To doubt the LORD of Light... is heretical.

For twenty years, you have honed your body, your mind, and your very soul into a weapon against the heretic, the apostate, and the invader. For just as long, you dear friend Hilde has nurtured her boundless curiosity into a dizzying intellectual mastery of artifice and physical principle. Since the dawn of time, the LORD has shepherded mankind through the darkness of fear and ignorance, and into the comfort of His Light. If these truths are not worthy of your faith, then you may as well brand your womb with the Black Primrose and accept that your true purpose is as a mother of demons.

That is something you will never do, for you have faith in yourself, in your friends, in the LORD above.

With that faith burning in your heart more powerfully than any toxin coursing through your veins, you let go your grip about the collar and let it squeeze down upon your neck.

>>5927145

Then with all of your might, you shove every drop of mana that will fit into the ring about your finger, releasing the seal upon your liquid armorsilks. The black, tarlike substance rushes up the length of your right arm in rivulets of ooze that quickly slip beneath the crushing choker and expand into an iron gorget that strains to protect your throat from its chokehold. Your clothes melt away at the armor's touch, leaving your skin bare to the late summer morning's chill for a brief moment. The armorsilks swiftly expand to cover what they stripped, but Rebecca gets an eyeful of everything you have unless she blinked at the right moment.

"That material can only be... embersilk liquefaction?" Rebecca stares at your newly armored form in awe, a trickle of blood running down from her nose that she quickly wipes away. Her voice is filled with disbelief and wonder as she says, "You have one of the prototypes? No, that looks like a produ-"

"I forgive you, Rebecca," you cut her off with the words that she needs to hear. Serenity fills your voice, for you have faith that this is the right thing to do.

"What?" she asks.

Your forgiveness catches her so far on the back foot that she staggers away from you as if she had taken a blow to the gut. It is understandable. Cults do not have forgiveness written into their law as the Faith does, be they apostate slaves of the Dark One or heretics who draw the downtrodden and dispossessed around them. They scorn the sinner rather than the sin, they submerge them in shame and ridicule. The only repentance is humiliation, and even then they neither forgive nor forget what the have done. They leave it as an enduring and eternal black mark upon the soul, leverage against the sinner to shame them into obedience.

Rebecca has served you for five years, and never once have you caught her reeking with the stench of evil, as you have so many others. She's a good kid who helps the elderly and reads stories to young children at the library, so you shall not let the Dark One have her. You will bring her into the Light of the LORD, dragging her kicking and screaming if you have to.

"I said I forgive you, Rebecca," you tell her, but that does not wipe the confusion from her face. It does not matter, she will one day, even if you have to grind her nose in it. Making the sign of the Prism with your right hand, you declare, "In the name of the LORD, I forgive you of your sins. Once I've purged this demon of yours, I am going to spank you so hard that your grandchildren will still have red bottoms a hundred years from now. This shall be your only penance. May your soul be cleansed of evil..."

>>5927146
Your hair flutters like a banner as you snap away from her, your business done. Though you cannot see the expression that crosses her face, her breath hitches in a way that makes your heart flutter with excitement and your lips curl into a childish grin. You cannot help but put on a cool voice, with which you add one more thing: "Now go and sin no more."

Is it wise to turn your back to a known traitor? Perhaps not. But you have faith that Hilde's creation will protect you from any knives that Rebecca might want to stick in your back.

What's important now lies in front of you.

The greater demon Rebecca summoned continues to emerge into the world from the circle that serves as its way out from the Abyss. From its current size, you would guess three hours have passed since its summoning at most; it takes a day for a creature of its size and spiritual weight to emerge into reality. Its full mass would fill the entire warehouse with a tangle of heavy tentacles whose sole purpose is to turn women into seedbeds that birth an unending tide of demonic abominations into the world. Providence favors you, for its breeding tentacles have yet to slip out from the void. Everything it does now is to prepare its victims for their role as wombs that bring demons into the world.

Each of the maids have their wrists bound above their heads by thin, rope-like tentacles. Their blouses have been torn, their breasts spilling out and nursing each a pair of suckling tendrils whose heads have opened like the blossom of a flower to embrace each bosom. Their eyes are empty, dulled first by the drugged incense, and then by the tentacles that have wrapped around their noses and mouths. Those fit snuggly, like a mask, and you can only imagine what manner of euphoric vapor the beast has been pumping into their lungs.

You need more than your bare hands to purge this heresy.

Without a second thought, your hands move on instinct to form a circle about your heart. Energy gathers between them, swirling into the shape of an orb of darkness whose color matched the night sky. This shadow was not the terror of the night nor the bleak and unending abyss where sleep horrors that dream of devouring all mankind. No, the darkness that gathers between your hands is a calm and soothing thing, the backdrop of the starry night and the shade of the great lisbon tree in summer. Green lightning crackles about the surface, leaping between your fingers and the orb as the gathering power grows denser and denser until it feels solid.

>>5927147
The orb of darkness swirls and roils with such incredible power that the wind begins to whip and crack about you, tossing your hair into a mess of tangles and ropes. It lowers down to your skin, pushing back the liquid of your armorsilks where they rest above your heart and exposing the well cleaved crest of your bosom. When it touches your heart, you feel the haft of a spear rising up. It is accompanied by a bolt of darkness and green lightning that tears through the roof of the warehouse and crashes into the sky above.

Slowly, steadily, for the first time, you draw forth the ultimate weapon from the depths of your soul. The thunder roars and the soothing darkness cracks into the sky in thick bolts, accompanied by flashes of electric green. And then you have it raised over your head. A cannon-scythe of midnight black, inscribed with prayers of emerald along the haft and blade.

The Litany of Blackthorn. The weapon of your childhood games, every bit as powerful as you remember it to be.

Someone surely saw that. Someone surely felt that. Who is it that comes rushing to investigate?
>Olanna comes to investigate what the hell is going on.
>Damien rushes down to complain about the noise.
>Hilde arrives with her instruments to take some measurements of this phenomenon.
>The Earl of Lavendel rambles in to see what his head bodyguard can do.

>>5927149
>The Earl of Lavendel rambles in to see what his head bodyguard can do.

>>5927146
>>5927147
I thought you said we'd be voting on how to fight or deal with Rebecca?

>>5927149
>Damien rushes down to complain about the noise.

>>5927149
>Hilde arrives with her instruments to take some measurements of this phenomenon.
>>5927183
>I thought you said we'd be voting on how to fight or deal with Rebecca?
that was the vote before, where she got the nat 20 and bamboozled us. now comes how we'll fight to save the maids, like we originally chose.

>>5927149
>Olanna comes to investigate what the hell is going on.

>>5927149
>Olanna comes to investigate what the hell is going on.
Probably won't be too pleased with what she finds

>>5927149
>Hilde arrives with her instruments to take some measurements of this phenomenon.

Very nicely done by Louise, love it.

>>5927149
>Damien rushes down to complain about the noise.
Louise even has a boob-sheathe, what a chuuni.
>>5927145
Where dud you find this pic? Because I know what it depicts, and it shouldn't be like that.

>>5927407
>Where dud you find this pic? Because I know what it depicts, and it shouldn't be like that.
what do you mean, anon ?

>>5927149
>>Damien rushes down to complain about the noise.

>>5927419
It's a weird combination of several characters. I'm curious what motivated it.

>>5927149
>Damien rushes down to complain about the noise.

>>5926800
I wouldn't say *TradCath*, but I did grow up in a household where we'd joking refer to Protestants as heretics and Anglicans and East Orthodox as schismatics.

As for the identity of that missing part of the pyramid, I will not confirm or deny any speculation regarding their identity.
>>5926876
No, if I were to give an option that resulted in a game over, it will be flagged as such. Now for bad ends, there *was* a route where Rebecca's Nat 20 saw her pin you down and do Sapphic things with you, but that is not appropriate for a blue board.
>>5926883
OH, that's what you meant. No, Rebecca is more or less there to represent the "average" cultist of the Dark One. A largely decent person who does some bad things for what she sees as the Greater Good, and is selectively blind towards or excuses the evil committed by some members of her faction.

Like most cults, the Church of Our Nameless Lord preys upon the downtrodden who have been abandoned by society (or have abandoned society in turn). Rebecca was one of those people.
>>5927183
Well, yes and no. The real "fight" was against despair and self-defeating thoughts.

Abandoning hope and faith (perish) would have also abandoned reason, and your ID would have seized control and beaten Rebecca until she realized that the Demon was raping Joana and the others. At which point, Rebecca may have escaped.

Releasing the Restraint would have skipped the "I forgive you" scene for just merc-ing the Demon then and there. You would have been more in sync with your ID, and would have focused on the task at hand while dealing with the overwhelming power you pulled. Damien would have been first to arrive on scene 100% there, because he'd be appalled at how crude your technique is.
>>5927407
Yes. Booba scythe.

Real talk though, that's just something women do. Every girlfriend I've had has always used her booba as a bonus pocket. My most recent ex even called them her bonus pocket. (Admittedly, I've only dated women as dorky as me, but still)

The picture was found on Gelboooru. I just searched for blonde chicks with scythes. I have no context for the characters it's based on, though with her hair and outfit she vaguely reminds me of adult Fate Testarossa.

>>5927720
>No, if I were to give an option that resulted in a game over, it will be flagged as such.
alright, thanks for clarifying
>Now for bad ends, there *was* a route where Rebecca's Nat 20 saw her pin you down and do Sapphic things with you, but that is not appropriate for a blue board.
this got me thinking, does the nameless make his followers more degenerate with time ? like a regular guy becoming like vaush after years serving him (demon possession not included) ? or a guy who had no prior interest in other guys will only do sex things with women regardless of how long he's been in the cult ?

>>5927720
>Church of Our Nameless Lord preys upon the downtrodden who have been abandoned by society (or have abandoned society in turn). Rebecca was one of those people.
Damn. Either she's been a cultist all these years, or she became downtrodden and abandoned while in our employ. Either way, that's a huge failure on our part.

>>5927818
I think it's the first option, since according to the story if she had days of poverty it'd be before we got her.

>>5927803
The LORD does not seem to regard same-sex interactions, or consensual promiscuity as 'degenerate', given we have a bunch of women's women in our employ and also Hilde.

>>5927828
>The LORD does not seem to regard same-sex interactions, or consensual promiscuity as 'degenerate', given we have a bunch of women's women in our employ and also Hilde.
sure, but from what I remember promiscuity has to be kept to a minimum and that people eventually do it with a SO so I assume same-sex is treated in a similar regard. to be more exactly I wanna know if the dark lord will make people enjoy sexual things they wouldn't normally and take it to the extreme everytime.

>>5927845
>I wanna know if the dark lord will make people enjoy sexual things they wouldn't normally and take it to the extreme everytime.
The greater demons emit hentai-aphrodisiacs through their tentacles so I would think that trend is the norm. Seems to be a matter of dulling people's sense of reason with drugs, basically.

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D&D Night went late again tonight, so that means Lore Time. Also, a WIP that I worked on in the background during D&D time (though after getting some feedback, gonna have to redraw a lot).

Cuisine in the Daffodil Kingdom
Azalea
Mushrooms of every shape, size, and flavor can be found in the swamplands of Azalea. The region also holds the widest variety of sweet bell pepper species, with the red-gold swirled Dawn Pepper being considered a local delicacy for its delicate balance of sweetness with spicy afterburn. Gumbos featuring mushrooms, peppers, sweet onions, longstrider pheasant, and herd lizard sausage are a staple among the people of the marshes. The wet climate of the region is not suitable for wheat, so while much flour is imported from the neighboring regions, their staple grain is a long grained yellow rice.

Camellia
A cold region in the southern reaches of the kingdom, known for its stews. Hearty root vegetables, especially turnips, carrots, and parsnips make up the bulk of the foodstuffs that are not bread and meat. Most of their dishes are stewed over the course of the day, worked on from dawn until dusk. Inns in the Camellia region are famous (or infamous) for having "eternal pots" of stew that never empty, simply adding fresh ingredients when the pot gets low.

Heartlands
Fish.

Dear lord the amount of fish the people of the heartlands eat. Breakfast? Fish. Lunch? Fish. Dinner? Even more fish. There are entire islands dedicated to creating fermented fish-sauce to put on top of fish so they can enjoy fish with their fish. They'll fry their fish in eggs and breadcrumbs. They'll stew their fish with mushrooms and vegetables. They'll eat smoked fish on rounds of bread with cream cheese and capers. They'll put their fish upon a pizza. They'll make a meatloaf out of their fish with horseradish and onions that no one else but they can enjoy.

Primrose
The breadbasket of the Daffodil Kingdom. Most of the wheat, barley, and other staple grains in the nation are grown in the Primrose region of the Daffodil Kingdom, and this reflects in their dishes. The best bread in the kingdom can be found here, along some of the finest pastries in the world. Pies of meats, fruits, and vegetables line the windows of every home graced with an over, and the most common street food consists of fried dough wrapped around a medley of lamb and cabbage with a cucumber sauce.

Sonnenblume
Aurochs in the valleys, grapes and olives on the hills and mountains, and rolling fields of wheat. The carrot, the onion, and celery serve as the foundation of most every bit of Sonnenblume's sauces and broths. They have a fondness for pickling that borders on the Heartland's fondness for fish. You can find every vegetable pickled in Sonnenblume... and, if your brave, you can try the pickled beef as well. Though really, it's better when its dried...

>>5928294
>Fish.
Bri'ish?

>>5928294
arc louise is real

>>5928294
Nice pic of a happy louise after smiting the unbelievers.

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It feels right in your hands. No, right does not quite describe - cannot hope to capture - the feeling that thrums inside of your chest, your gut, your mind, your heart, your everything, as you hold the Litany of Blackthorn in your hands. You felt it too in the realm of dreams, when you used this very weapon to drive the Witch of Depravity from your mind. It is a greater understanding than something that feels right, yet at the same time the sensation every bit as simple, every bit as primal as a mere gut-feeling.

Your right eye opens.

It sees the echoes of the young St. Augustine, whose ashes infuse the devil-binding seals that bind your left arm and your right eye. The martyred boy's prayers become a shackle upon the accursed darkness, and that your eye can see beyond the Saint's suppression of all curses shows that its vision is not evil.

The blue of your left eye melts into the same shining green that colors your mana. Your right eye blooms with an inverted Flower of Life, an emerald blossom whose three petals shine past the seal with searing holy light. The golden sign of the sacred prism glows along with it, and superimposed upon one another they almost seem to make two fragments of a greater whole. You see it not, but the lights begin to spin and swirl around one another until they meld together in a flickers tongue of fire.

Your right eye burns. The flames within your vision burn away the lies of perception and show you the naked truth, the world as it is rather than how you perceive it to be. The demon rising from the circle moves like smoke caught in a wind that has granted a horrific form, a mound of groping tendrils with no other purpose than impregnating the women in its clutches with lies, that they might bear unspeakable and wretch truths into the world. Like inkstains on a page torn from your journal, the tendrils swirl and spread through the warehouse, pumping deceit into the bodies and minds of your dear servants.

The veil of flames bare their truths to you as well.

The half-hearted struggles of Joana, who wants to resist the depravations of the beast but harbors traitorous thoughts that coil around her heart. Lonely and set apart, reclusive by habit and carrying many secrets, slower to trust and always doubting affection, her expression hidden in the smoke and the subtle motions of her body betray that tiny, niggling doubt. If one cannot find a partner to embrace them, then why not accept the embrace of an inhuman monster and make pretend that it's love?

In contrast, the youngest of her students resists as violently as her drug addled mind will let her. Even with the rising heat of her body and loins, even under the attentions of monster designed by the Dark One himself to break the minds of men and women with incomprehensible pleasure, she squirms at her binds, biting and gnashing, refusing everything the demon sends at her. You feel in her a kindred spirit, a fellow young woman in love...

>>5929178

Every other student - a good third of Castle Liliendorf's staff, in fact - shows you something different, something new, something that you did not know about them before. Some struggle against the bindings of smoke and black ink with which the greater demon has bound them. Others resign themselves to suffering its embrace, reconciling it with the fact that they will at least get to keep their lives.

One of them, a girl you recognize as Millie the cook, eagerly embraces the demon's affections. Not out of a heretical desire to degrade herself with the seed of an inhuman abomination, but rather out of raw carnal lust. She grinds against the creature, whimpering and needy with the desire that it breed with her.

You'll have to punish her later for that.

All of these truths flood into your right eye all at one, the moment that it well and truly opens. That understanding shows you the path to take, the best way to eliminate the writhing abomination before with the weapon in your hand. You do not need to think about how to do it. You only need do it.

That is the "rightness" that you feel when your hands first grasped the Litany's ironwood haft. A hundred different words for the feeling flow through your mind in the instant before you act, trying to give it a name. Understanding. Insight. Comprehension. Intuition. Cognizance. All of them right in their own ways, but all of them deeply flawed in how they describe what you can see what you can feel between the Litanty's resonance with the universe and the vision of your burning eye.

Your mind lands on a word in the Gardener tongue. One René once showed you in one of his khemistry texts, their term for the end goal of all knowledge and the true purpose of wisdom. Something every khemist must learn to achieve if they wish to walk its true path. A state every true Philosopher can enter as easily as breathing.

Oneness with the universe.

Communion with the LORD above.

A soul's ability to tread the path of heaven: Gnosis.

"Ah..." you sigh when a realization hits you. In this state that you can only call gnosis, the stars are brighter, the aurora more vibrant, the very world dragged into clearer definition. You could always see the hidden colors that only a scant few girls can see, but they are brighter now than ever before. Falling into a deep stance, the blade of the scythe dragging beyond you, a smile curls upon you lips. "This is what René chased after."

You heart thrums with joy when you realize that you're one step closer to him than you were the day before. Then you pull the trigger, and the kick of the Litany's cannon sends you tearing through the space that separates you from the greater demon.

>>5929179
Your battle against the greater demon was already won when you drew the Litany of Blackthorn from your heart. When your right eye opened, you saw a path to victory through the thicket of bladed tentacles and magma blood its wounds would spray upon you, upon your dear servants. Though its shape is more of a farmer's tool than a weapon of war, you have every confidence that you can swing the Litany down that bloody road.

Weaving through the bladed tentacle-vines, you cut them off at the root. The smoke withers and scatters, spurting with blood like lava that scores the warehouse's stone floor. Ever nimble, you dance out of the way, the Litany's blade whirling like the crescent moon to cleave more of those wretched, inky vines.

They attack you from every unexpected angle, shooting out from the corner of your vision hoping to entangle you and see you join its other victims. Where that fails it tries to impale you, to pierce through your armorsilks and end a threat that it could not make into a demon-mother. You answer it in kind, your body moving in a jilted dance, darting through the room at strange and unpredictable vectors. The roar of the Litany's cannon accompanies every jolt of sudden motion, sending your soaring whilst a ball of iron crashes through another bulky root of the beast.

Your victory does not come without wounds. New scars shall decorate your torso and your arms, where the burning, bladed whips cut through the liquid armorsilks. Hilde's work did its best to soften the blows, a better job than your old set would have. A greater demon's strength, however, cannot be understated.

And yet, it feels so easy when you finally cut through the thicket and slice apart the core.

To an audience, it seems. A pair of magenta eyes stare at you through the darkness of the night, glowing with unearthly and heretical power. Damien steps into the light of the aurora, looking between you, the greater demon's carcass, and the abundance of topless maids. "Have you seen the bombard that's been going off? Olanna's been worried that the town's under siege."
>Have the grace to look a bit sheepish. "You heard all of that?"
>Slam the Litany down on one of the squishy bits of demon. "We were."
>"Have you seen Rebecca around? I promised her the spanking of a lifetime for what she did."
>Stare right back at him with a frown on your face. "This is your fault, Damien. You and that scheming Earl."
>Pretend none of this happened. "Good morning, Damien. Ready to hit the road?"
>(Write in)

>>5929181
>>"Have you seen Rebecca around? I promised her the spanking of a lifetime for what she did."