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>>6154957

# # # # # #

You areArgia Candente, an aspirantKnight of Ansàrra, And everyone considers you cursed because of your silver hair.

When your family lost everything, years ago, you were pushed to try and find a new life in theHoly Land of Maduabut you were not granted access. Not unless you complete your training and pass the Trial of Fire as its coronation. After three years being the disciple of renownMaster Ibardo Delebasse, you were then forced to start a year of training in the outback of Madua, together with three other trainees who you tried to bond with… and failed.

May Ansàrra conserve you.

Over the past few months you butted heads with those three, but your latest mission, where you managed to stop the incarnation of a Demon, made you fire-forged friends. You also celebrated your victories in a quaint little border town, and over the course of the latest day you managed to get further blessings from Ansàrra Herself (and discovered you are a D cup). You also own an excessively neat, ceremonial sword which cleaves through rock and steel!

After the celebration's climax where you spoke to the crowd about your desire to help your family, you began to hope that people can look past your curse. By the end of the night though, of your newfound friends, the genius swordmasterSalicera/Willow(she kissed you, for some reason), has begun worrying you due to certain things she said and did.

You were now just about to share a heart-to-heart to Willow, but your growing connection to a certain hallowed symbol of your patron Saint,Bragia Lacresta, had you reach out to your Master while Salicera waited for you.

And imagine your surprise when right beside your Master you find Carnaval, the Angel of Ansàrra. Who imparted you with an important mission: destroy a rogue Asterite in the lands of the Treviri Throne and you will jump straight to Knighthood!

Of course, you accepted. You also received one of Carnaval’s feathers as a keepsake. Wonder what that is for…

[cont.]

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>>6154958

Along the way you then trained a bit with Master (who, like Willow would say, ‘kicked your ass’), and then had to leave on further business. The four of you then proceeded to the harbour town, where you were shown the amazing power of one of Madua’s Eyes of the Sun. As the tower flashed its solar beam straight into the sea, you also received another vision of Saint Bragia. It’s clear Ansàrra is trying to tell you something… but what?

Once on the boat, you butted heads with Sandora Mirari, the Asterite chosen by Carnaval to be your lead, but over a few days it seems like you five learned to work together. After a fashion.

Meanwhile, in the Holy Land, a couple of fishermen caught one of your silver hair.

You have always showed yourself with your head covered, but now there is proof of your curse. This would be probably brushed off if it wasn’t for certain political machinations, of which you know nothing about, but which are already starting to involve your Master.
But alas, you know nothing of this.

And at last you reached the Thronelands. Now you will have to cross the Spiana di Castelvetro, the so-called Glass Heath that separates you from your goal.
Hopefully nothing too bad happens…

[cont.]

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>>6154959

# # # # # #

Rules Recap:

We vote by majority to decide actions. In rare cases, if a tie happens I may incorporate both options if narratively possible or interesting. This does NOT happen for combat rolls.

We use 1d100 roll against a DC, plus bonuses.

>natural 1 is a critical failure, natural 100 is a complete success.

Roll vs DC for most checks.

Combat roll is instead Bo3, counting successes against my rolls (usually you need to beat only 1 or 2 of my rolls)

If you or I get dubs, trips or more on the rolling post we add the following values/effects to what was just rolled and only that:

>dubs: +18
>trips: automatic critical success
>quads: permanent bonus + kiss on the cheek

(Bonuses used to be lower during previous threads but I decided to spice them up)

these rules apply to my rolls as well but only to the first one (as I use a single post for my rolls)

>Write-Ins:

there will be the occasional prompt for these. Interesting ideas or suggestions may be incorporated in the update even if they don’t reach a majority. Discussions and questions are highly encouraged as they may give you numerical bonuses or allow you to skip dangerous situations!

# # # # # #

Pasta?

Pasta!

>Lore and Important Characters: https://pastebin.com/By6W3xxD

(you will find yours and other character's bonuses here in this file):

>MC and stats (updated!) https://pastebin.com/CuxGS43X

# # # # # #

And now, the news…

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>>6154960

# # # # # #

Training with Master has taught you how to travel.
Pack light. Don’t drink more than you need, which means twice per day. Fight as if your life depends on it, because most of the times, it does.
But it did not prepare you to this.
The air sizzles with heat. Every contour of the plains of black glass shudders and shivers in the broiling air. It’s like standing in the middle of a Temple, with the candlelight burning up the air around it, but it’s everywhere at once, and its heat presses against your skin, against your neck, against your cheeks — even protected by the precious armour Carnaval gifted you, the heat feel like a molten grip.

And yet.

Beyond the oppressive warmth, the air carries a faint scent of dry earth, of ripe grapes. It’s what you feel when She is close. And you are walking on the black glass, the flash-molten ground which has felt Ansàrra’s touch. This place, which was supposed to become a land of conquest for the Throne, has now been turned into a monument to Her magnificence.
You set your hand against your cameo, trying to reach out to the support Saint Brahia has given you for so long — and between the slit in the protective gear the Asterite has given you, you spot the shape of the pyramid far ahead. The Temple is getting closer. Slowly.
But each step you take is one step less. And after you and your friends deal with this rogue Asterite, delivering him justice and retribution, you will finally be a Knight.

You will be able to sit down with your family and share a glass of wine. Raise it to the glory of the Sun-Birther.
And as such, in the middle of the roasting desert, you find yourself smiling.

“I’m glad you can find this funny,” groans Willow next to you. She runs a hand through her brown hair, trying to deal with the heat. “Wish I could do the same.”
“I do not,” you reply, trying to share your good mood with her. “I do not find it funny, at the very least. But we are facing Ansàrra’s mark, all around us.” You slide your armoured boot over the glass surface, producing a high scraping noise. Willow’s reddened face reflects in the mirror-like sheen. “I do feel blessed I’m able to see all this.”
“Hm.” Willow nods, but it’s clear she’s just pretending to agree.
That is still worrying — her mood reminds you of what you have tried to share so far. Despite being your fellow Knight-in-training and someone you can look up to as a master skirmisher, her reluctance to properly embrace the true Faith has left you filled with unease. It’s not made any easier by the way the wind plays with Willow’s hair, by the way sweat runs down her cheeks, by how your blue eyes linger on occasion on her plush lips.

Some part of you goes back to that night at the festival. When she did kiss you straight on the lips.
You still wonder how much of that is just Willow being Willow and her Earthly ways, and how much it’s…

[cont.]

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>>6154964

“However,” Willow adds, “what matters is that we are going in there together. You can show me this Temple to Saint Bragia you find so fascinating. Perhaps I can learn a thing or two while I’ll be showing off my skirmisher skills,” she chuckles. You can picture it behind her visor: her greyish eyes flashes the light of the self-assured girl you know, the one who covered herself with the mantle of Salicera Fors for so many years. Even with Ansàrra’s presence all around you, the fact you are the only one who knows Willow’s secret origins makes a particular connection between the two of you. Something that feels like a light pull extending from your chest to hers.

For a girl who put her destiny in the hands of Ansàrra, you still find the notion of fated friends… strangely compelling, in that way that makes your stomach flip-flap.

Then a faint groan makes you both turn to your right. Soralisa is stumbling on the glass surface, balancing herself just enough not to crash on her face. Her arms are still healing, and she can move them now, but you know she’s still a long way from recovering complete use of her body.

“I can deal with it—” she protests, and you picture her at you two with her large, doe-like brown eyes, behind the visor. “I am doing fine, I just need some…”
Willow sighs and joins her, draping one of her strong arms around your resident scholar. Soralisa flushes pink.

“I can walk…”
“I would be surprised if we asked you to stop,” Willow chuckles. Soralisa tosses her a bashful look, but doesn’t protest, accepting her help. It feels a bit like moving through a dream. To her, Willow is still nothing but your confident, skilled striker, without a doubt the best fighter of your entire cadre. She is still nothing more than Salicera Fors, the genius, the prodigy.

You are the only one who saw Willow, the doubtful Strander, tossed into another world, one where old rules had no place, and she had to rebuild herself from the ground up.

[cont.]

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>>6154967

Once again, it’s something she only shared with you. After you four (plus the Asterite heathen, you guess), complete Carnaval’s so-called ‘diplomatic’ mission, you will share a few more words with Willow. In the meantime, you are positive that having her visit the Temple will do her good.

Even if its sacred ground is currently stained by another Asterite — but Ansàrra willing, it won’t be for long.

“I think I saw something!” Comes another voice from behind you three.
Rubida joins you, her long black hair flowing in the wind.
She waits for you to speak.

Uh, this is still — new — to you. The Rubida you dealt with for months, the aloof, moody Maduan noble would little more than whisper cruel jokes about you and send you veiled threats.
That girl has evaporated like snow, leaving behind your trustful friend.
One more thing you should be grateful for. When the Temple is cleaned, you will pray in it.

“What did you see?”
“Did you catch the Crow at last?” Willow asks.
“Nay, nothing of the sort. But some of these shadows are shifting.”
You consider her words, tossing a look ahead at your guide, about twenty paces ahead. The blonde figure of Sandora Mirari is striking, her mantle flowing behind her, as she looks around, the visor covering her jade eyes. You still hesitate to consider her an ally. You never liked Asterites, and heathen from the Throne do not figure well in your book.
But she has proven dependable so far — and besides, even as the eventide is rapidly approaching, there’s four of you here.
Sandora seems caught in her own thoughts, crossing her arms and regarding the horizon, seemingly at the spot where the silvery planetary ring joins it, crossing into the blue sky. She doesn’t turn her head to look at you.
“It could just be a trick of the light on this surface,” you try. But it would be wise to listen to the insights of your group’s scout. “Was it close?”
“It was not,” she clenches her armoured fist and the white scales of the armour set she shares with you crinkle. “But it did feel like it was.”
“Now that’s confusing,” Willow asks.
“Can you explain that again?” Soralisa follows, her mouth curling in a wrinkle of interest.
“Wait. I know. It reminded me of—” Rubida shudders. She hesitates, her other hand rubbing her arm, where her childhood wound rests. You set your hand against her shoulder and she leans in. “Of what we faced in the Well. The mirrored shades. And before that, even, as if the very area before us was bent, like light through a piece of glass.”
Willow inhales sharply.
And you do understand.
You reach for your white-edged sword.
“Call the Asterite. There is—”

[cont.]

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>>6154972

Your words disappear in an echo of shrieking glass, like grinding ice, like tree branches breaking under some unworldly torsion. The visor allows you to see only through a sliver, but it’s enough to catch the air broil even more before the four of you — and from the tortured reflections there, something presses — an armoured hand — and it crashes through the glistening barrier. As if breaking past an invisible mirror, the tall figure of an armoured warrior, clad in steel, advances towards the four of you, holding a long sword.
It carries the Thronal eagle on its handle, and the warrior, its shimmering bulk shining with half-there reflections, makes no sound as it slowly fills the space between you. Past the spreading barrier of shimmering reflections, you can barely see Sandora’s form, turning to regard another figure, simile to the one facing you, raising its axe to kill.

You feel it again. Stronger now. That strange sensation in the pit of your stomach when you faced the Tree of Murdered Paths, but so much stronger now. So similar to the one you felt when you trained with Sandora while on the ship.

The soiled power of the Stars.

And it’s coming for you now.
“The rogue has noticed us,” you say, pointing your sword at the incoming figure.
You have just a few moments to share your orders with your friends. You have no idea how this new enemy will deal with you.
Once again, you will have to have faith.
At least, it’s something you can clearly count on.

>Tactics as usual: Rubida will protect Soralisa while you deal with the enemy head-on with Willow [attack advantage, penalty on defence]

>Willow to the back: she will protect Soralisa while Rubida helps you in close quarters. [attack penalty, defence advantage]

>Protector of the Petitioner: Soralisa will stay close to you, while Rubida and Willow fight together [bonus on Sanctions]

>A different insight strikes you: add a suggestion.

Hello and welcome back to Silver Knight Quest! It’s been a long time and I missed being here. Welcome to the newcomers and welcome back to the veterans! I hope you’ll keep following the adventures of our silver-haired doofus. Now, you may be delighted to know I have no bad news or tremendous revelations planned for this thread. I can bet everything will be just fine, comfy, and our group of girls will have a mostly-inconsequential adventure. Also, the new posting system was turbocancer for fifteen seconds but it has since grown on me. Thanks for playing!

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>>6154976
>>Tactics as usual: Rubida will protect Soralisa while you deal with the enemy head-on with Willow [attack advantage, penalty on defence]
Welcome back!

>>6154957
>(thanks everyone for voting! My mom reads these threads and she’s so proud of this community!)
really ? what did momseeker think of the lebanese reveal and the high school au ? kek. what she likes most about the quest and which character is her favorite ?
>>6154976
>Tactics as usual: Rubida will protect Soralisa while you deal with the enemy head-on with Willow [attack advantage, penalty on defence]
glad to see you back, OP. My Argia shaped hole now is being filled.

>>6154976
Welcome back! I missed this quest.

>Willow to the back: she will protect Soralisa while Rubida helps you in close quarters. [attack penalty, defence advantage]
Just until we size them up.

>>6154976
>Protector of the Petitioner: Soralisa will stay close to you, while Rubida and Willow fight together [bonus on Sanctions]

>>6154976
>>Tactics as usual: Rubida will protect Soralisa while you deal with the enemy head-on with Willow [attack advantage, penalty on defence]

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>>6155003
thanks anon! it's great to be back. cute pic as well!

>>6155019

momseeker liked Soralisa the most. she's precious like that

>Argia-shaped hole

you know, I missed her a lot as well. I hope we can finish this quest before the start of next summer, but I'm going to take my time

>>6155031
thanks a lot!

and thanks everyone for voting. I'd say about 24 hours more for voting and then we'll get our update.

>>6154976
>>Tactics as usual: Rubida will protect Soralisa while you deal with the enemy head-on with Willow [attack advantage, penalty on defence]

>>6154976
>Tactics as usual: Rubida will protect Soralisa while you deal with the enemy head-on with Willow [attack advantage, penalty on defence]

>>6154976
>Tactics as usual: Rubida will protect Soralisa while you deal with the enemy head-on with Willow [attack advantage, penalty on defence]
Death
>>6154957
>(thanks everyone for voting! My mom reads these threads and she’s so proud of this community!)
Perhaps the most insane words I have read on this board, hello Momseeker, hope you enjoy our dumbass behaviour!

>>6154976
>Tactics as usual: Rubida will protect Soralisa while you deal with the enemy head-on with Willow [attack advantage, penalty on defence]
wb buxom knight quest

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for now every vote barring two has been for

>Tactics as usual

writing will commence shortly unless anon sets up a bot farm to change results (again)

>>6155856
>writing will commence shortly unless anon sets up a bot farm to change results (again)
you can just end the vote if you wanna write

>>6155867
Yes, I usually send a message out when I consider voting closed.

Case in point... voting is closed.

Writing!

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>>6154976
thanks everyone for voting!

No matter if this enemy is new or not. At least you have some proper tactics and training you can fall upon. The cameo seems to pulsate against your chest as you raise your arm, attracting the others’ attention. You have just a few moments before this thing reaches striking distance.

“Like we trained! Rubida, in the back, check for other enemies while you protect Soralisa. Will-I mean, I will face this with Salicera. Ready?”
“At once,” Rubida nods, pulling your brunette friend with her.
“I can help,” she weakly protests, but it lasts just a moment. “Or rather, the Sun-Birther—”
“That’s right.” You share a look with Willow, who gives you a faint smile. You almost slipped there. Almost said her name out loud.

But what matters is that you didn’t. That’s all.
You straighten your shoulders, raising your weapon. The summoned warrior does not hesitate, advancing towards you, its heavy weapon unerring. The air around you is still suffused with that reflected brightness, like a wave of shattered glass, broiling in the same spot. You can’t see the Asterite.

Where she is, you hope Ansàrra can spare a thought even for heathens. If only for the sake of your missions and your friends.

“I go first,” Willow says, holding her sword with her usual grace. A glint in her eyes goes off and she is back to the role she fits best. The genius skirmisher, the girl who could — almost — fight on par with your Master, just days before.

“Get me an opening,” you say. You share one final look, and Willow throws herself at the warrior, dancing in the air, ready to slice through steel. But right as she’s about to strike, with a shimmering flash, her strike goes off and she stumbles on her feet, struggling to keep her balance. Skittering on the black glass, the she manages to fall back just in time for he warrior’s weapon to cut air.

It’s something you have seen once already, indeed. The warping power of the Malostromo. But back then it was merely a tree that wielded it, now… not there is a sort of malignant, sharp Will that leads the actions of this steel puppet.

You grit your teeth. Just like the other time.

[cont.]

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>>6155925

“This thing is tougher than I thought,” Willow spats, raising her weapon to try another strike. She jumps, the air flashes and she falls on her butt, still holding her weapon, scraping against her armour in a flash of sparks.

There seems to be a glint of murky gladness in the helm’s openings as the warrior finally reaches striking distance with you. What should you do?

What should you do? Your heart is pumping in your ears, blood is rushing to your heart, and the void of Ansàrra seems so far off, so faint—

Thinking will not help you here. The rogue Asterite can warp the space between you and his puppet. He can make it so your strikes never reach, and you are pretty sure that that longsword can reach past its length to embed itself straight into your belly.

Perhaps it will pierce through the tetracerarmide like it was not even there. All that training on the ship, and for what? In the end, the abilities of a Third Seat seem far above what you could deal with.

Time slows and thickens like crystallising honey as the warrior lunges, its weapon reaching for you— and to think that Carnaval called this a diplomatic mission.

You have, once again, to think fast. And to act even faster.


You may still have the advantage, with Willow so close. Strike! Strike! (Combat Roll, Best of 6, beast at least 2 of my rolls, you will get a bonus to your rolls from Willow’s help)

You can take the hit. Let it come close. so close it cannot escape. A gamble, but it may pay off. May Saint Bragia protect you. (You channel your Kenpachi Zaraki energy and automatically lose your next combat roll, but the summoned warrior may be caught flat-footed by your strategy)

To eldritch force, reply with the hallowed might of Ansàrra. You still have the power to deal it… and in this place, with Her presence so close, you have the advantage. (You can cast a Sanction of Burning Blood as a free action during the Combat Roll that follows this choice. You still have to beat 2 of my rolls.)

Or, perhaps… wasn’t there something else? (Perhaps there is something else you carry which may be useful? It’s probably not your Saint Bragia stuffed toy (deluxe edition), but you can try)

>>6155929
>You may still have the advantage, with Willow so close. Strike! Strike! (Combat Roll, Best of 6, beast at least 2 of my rolls, you will get a bonus to your rolls from Willow’s help)
I'll leave the feather for a desperate situation

>>6155929
>You may still have the advantage, with Willow so close. Strike! Strike!

>>6155929
>You may still have the advantage, with Willow so close. Strike! Strike! (Combat Roll, Best of 6, beast at least 2 of my rolls, you will get a bonus to your rolls from Willow’s help)

>>6155929
>You may still have the advantage, with Willow so close. Strike! Strike! (Combat Roll, Best of 6, beast at least 2 of my rolls, you will get a bonus to your rolls from Willow’s help)

>>6155943
>>6155953
>>6155956
>>6156177

interesting votes. I may be able to complete the update while on travel this evening. I'll let you know in case by closing the voting window shortly before I can seat down and write.

thanks for playing.

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Rolled 61, 99, 21 + 63 = 244 (3d100 + 63)

>>6155943
>>6155953
>>6155956
>>6156177

No, even if other options may be more attractive in another conundrum, right now there is only one thing you can do. You were raised by hardship and tempered in blood.

And also, Willow is right there with you.

You throw her a glance, just in time to tilt your sword just right. You will strike. You will pierce, you will—

“Silla ane ga,” you mutter, not knowing where those words come from, but with a hint of dry earth and ripe grapes that reach your nostrils.

Willow does not understand, but she gets the intention. Turning on herself, she strikes with you.

Tetracerarmide against the evil arts of the twisted Stars.

Let’s see who wins.

# # # # # #

>Combat Roll: beat at least ONE of my rolls. Best of 6, each reply and each anon (1 roll per anon max) rolls 1d100+19+10+20 (from Willow’s help) for a total bonus of +49

>Remember you gain bonuses for dubs, trips and quads.

>Remember you have a critical range on 97-100 on a natural roll for critical success

>A natural roll of 100 is a critical success, a roll of 1 is a critical failure

Happy rolling! Fuck this guy up anon

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>>6157014
>99

well, it’s been fun anons

Rolled 80 + 49 (1d100 + 49)

>>6157014

Rolled 97 + 49 (1d100 + 49)

>>6157014

Rolled 35 + 49 (1d100 + 49)

>>6157014
sheesh
>>6157021
we got a crit, let's go

Rolled 64 + 49 (1d100 + 49)

>>6157014
Let's see if I can still do this from my phone.

Rolled 17 + 49 (1d100 + 49)

>>6157014

Rolled 11 + 63 (1d100 + 63)

>>6157014

Rolled 21 + 49 (1d100 + 49)

>>6157014

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the first 2 rolls carried this update. will write as soon as I am finished with this convention

>second roll of the thread
>it’s a crit

>>6157512
Good taste.

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>>6157512

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>>6158259
thanks anon

>>6158813
good job

the convention kept me busier than I thought. it was good tho, got some nice contacts and had fun. thanks for your patience anon. will be writing now, update coming soon.

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>>6157014

>>6157021
>Critical Hit!
>>6157017
>Success!

You feel that pull — the air folding around yourself, it’s like falling towards something, like your body is being pulled by invisible strings. Your heart beats against your chest as the world slows down, following the arc of your swing. It’s too high. Your sword will miss.
The other’s weapon, instead, grows closer and closer. Your instincts, honed by years of fighting with Master, tell you that you won’t be able to escape it.
It will strike you.
You wince, fear rising to choke your stomach, but you don’t stop. At this point, what happens is not up to you. And you heard Her voice, when you decided to do so.
That voice that told you — Silla, ane ga.. Like that time in the Well, the words carry a meaning past their sound.

The summoned knight’s weapon glances against your armour as you keep pushing, following Her voice. Her command.

Pierce.

And then the pulling sensation snaps.
With a scream, you push through it, like striking a pane of glass with a maul — it shatters in a thousand fragments, like those mirrors in the Well.

She has spoken.

And Her word is truth.

Your sword, its hungry white keen, eats through the metallic armour, piercing its shimmering bulk. A spiderweb of cracks glints through its form, breaking it, shattering it. It creaks like a twisted branch and it falls to the obsidian ground, its pieces skittering about, raising echoes of a crashing note, losing itself in flute-like noises, ephemeral and caught by the wind.

[cont.]

>>6159055

The curtain around you four also lifts. You see the Asterite, holding up her hands as she throws black ink towards her own foe, piercing its structure just like you did. She turns towards you, her mouth open, her arms stiff.
You can’t hear what she’s saying.

Of course.
Her presence…

Coughing, you fall on your knees, your sword scraping on the glass.

“Argia!” Willow shouts, abandoning her own weapon, her boots grinding over the glass fragments as she holds you up. “You did it!”

“Wa-wasn’t me,” you stutter. Your body feels feverish. She was so close. Like looking at the Sun for more than an instant, Her presence far too close, like throwing a waxen figurine into a bonfire and praying for it not to sizzle and melt and disappear. You hold onto your weapon and manage to stand up, with Willow’s help. “She came for me.”

A flash seem to go off in Willow’s eyes, behind her visor, but she does not push it. Rather, she calls for the others, who are already coming closer, Soralisa first.

“I felt it as well,” she shouts, leaning against you, her armoured hands clumsily exploring your exposed patches of skin. “Is there anything wrong? I can’t see any burns, but—”

“I feel fine,” you reply, coughing again. Your body feels hot. It’s the opposite from having a fever. Getting al shivering, while now you feel the heat coming straight from inside. “It was just a moment. Silla ane ga, shee shaid—” you wince. Your throat is parched. “— she said.”

“What happened?” The Asterite asks, coming closer, the ink flowing back into its proper place as she pulls out a water jug, holding it in front of you. “I felt—”

“Can’t you tell?” Willow adds, helping you stay up. “From what happened all around us? It’s the same person.”

“The Sun-Birther,” Rubida explains. She seems more stunned than the rest of you. Of course. She wasn’t there when Soralisa reached out past the veil, or when you received the vision of Saint Bragia. She has yet to be fully caught in Her presence like it happened to you.

Sandora’s face goes even paler.
“I— I see. It did… nevermind. Stars.”

You let her call out to her heathen powers, and maybe you feel particularly generous because she is holding her jug of water against your lips. You take three short sips.
The cool water rushes through your body, making you feel better at once.

“You are going to be alright,” Soralisa says at last, withdrawing her hands. “There was no damage, or at least no lasting damage. I think. I would need more time to check. I believe you will be fine.”

[cont.]

>>6159057

You gently let Willow release you, and you try to stand.Easy.
This is nothing. In fact, Ansàrra’s presence so close… it’s soothing, considering what you are going to face.

“A Third Seat, hm?” You mumble, looking at the Asterite. After a stunned moment she withdraws her jug, strapping it back to its proper place, and you share a chuckle.

“I did tell you this wasn’t going to be easy,” she adds.
“Indeed…” you sigh, looking at the shape of the Temple, still in the distance. “We will need to deal with this,” addressing the other girls. “The Sun-Birther is with us, but we cannot keep hoping for Her hand to solve all our troubles.”

The Asterite shakes her head, looking around at the Glass Heath.
“That would be a welcome change.”

She just helped you, so once again you let it slide. A heathen carries her own curse.

“For now, how about we take a break?” Willow asks, rubbing her hand against your armoured shoulder? “And think about what’s next. If our enemy is so dangerous he can summon warriors at this distance, what can we expect once we are there?”
“And that pulling sensation,” you mutter. “That’s the worst thing.”
“Yeah! We can’t expect to fight someone folding space like that can we?” Willow scoffs, looking even more dejected. Distraught, perhaps. Something is bothering her.

Perhaps she has a point. You are just glad your body is coming back to normal. And that you still have a body to worry about.


You follow Willow’s idea and hunker down for a moment. Let’s think of a strategy, now that your mark has shown his… welcome.

Soralisa’s warnings about your health… you are not too keen on disrobing yourself before the others, but maybe it’s a good idea for her to check. Ansàrra’s presence felt so close.

Now that a show of Ansàrra’s power has humbled the Asterite, perhaps she will be more collaborative. Can’t she give you any hints?

And also… there is this idea in your mind (suggestion or write-in)

sorry for the delay. it sure seems like Ansàrra's closeness has its drawbacks.... thanks for playing!

>>6159058
>Soralisa’s warnings about your health… you are not too keen on disrobing yourself before the others, but maybe it’s a good idea for her to check. Ansàrra’s presence felt so close.

>>6159058
Now that a show of Ansàrra’s power has humbled the Asterite, perhaps she will be more collaborative. Can’t she give you any hints?
Press the advantage. He lost a minion, and presumably used a decent chunk of power on him. Don't let him recover. Make progress, don't stall. And definitely don't remove your armor right now. Remember, time's only on our side for so long.

As for dealing with space warping, I do have a suggestion. Have the asterite draw a line of ink from each individual to the target we want to go to or strike at. That'll show us distortions along the path. As with the maolostromo, it wouldn't be a bad idea to connect a physical piece of string to everyone in the party too.

>>6159058
>Soralisa’s warnings about your health… you are not too keen on disrobing yourself before the others, but maybe it’s a good idea for her to check. Ansàrra’s presence felt so close.
Totally for pure reasons

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>>6159075
interesting line of thought anon. nice suggestions, let's see if this helps in any way.

>>6159117

pure training
pure friendship
pure illusion

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>>6159058
>Soralisa’s warnings about your health… you are not too keen on disrobing yourself before the others, but maybe it’s a good idea for her to check. Ansàrra’s presence felt so close.

>>6159058
Soralisa’s warnings about your health… you are not too keen on disrobing yourself before the others, but maybe it’s a good idea for her to check. Ansàrra’s presence felt so close.

>>6159058
>Now that a show of Ansàrra’s power has humbled the Asterite, perhaps she will be more collaborative. Can’t she give you any hints?
let's try keeping our advantage
>>6159127
>filename
never watched it, but I've seen this amv which I'm always reminded when I see anything about that anime https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d3Iv1gscw5M

>>6159058

>>6159075 +1
>Now that a show of Ansàrra’s power has humbled the Asterite, perhaps she will be more collaborative. Can’t she give you any hints?
>As for dealing with space warping, I do have a suggestion. Have the asterite draw a line of ink from each individual to the target we want to go to or strike at. That'll show us distortions along the path. As with the maolostromo, it wouldn't be a bad idea to connect a physical piece of string to everyone in the party too.

>>6159168
Nice pic

>>6159058
>Soralisa’s warnings about your health… you are not too keen on disrobing yourself before the others, but maybe it’s a good idea for her to check. Ansàrra’s presence felt so close.

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>>6159072
>>6159075
>>6159117
>>6159168
>>6159180
>>6159202
>>6159253
>>6159847


>disrobing wins

why am I not fucking surprised? grumble grumble, shitty QM

I liked some of those suggestions. Writing will commence in about 30 minutes, voting is closed.

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>>6159058

Frigéia does not know sleep. As slumbering as it may appear, with its streets made of water and its hallways of marble, its towers of gold, its veins of black oil that feed a thousand’s thousand ships, the city is buzzing with activity. If the self-satisfied, calm activities of the Holy Land shift in her memory like the humming of bees, the unceasing buzz surrounding her now is that of wasps.
She allows herself a grin. With its filigree decorations, the hanging gardens of exotic plants and the wealth sprouting from every corner, it always feels good to go back to the nest she had built herself. She and Helias, sitting at the table, would stand out like a torch in the darkest of nights, if the merchants, dignitaries, high-brow whores and their patrons could see them in their true form.
A server reaches their table, filling their crystal chalices with thick crimson wine from the Mar da Candéa, can only see yet another spoiled dame and her husband — she is resting her head on her palm while he’s scratching notes on his ledger.
“This? It’s new.” The Stilladìa asks, raising her ember gaze towards the server. A youngish man, his brown hair complimenting his freckles.
“You have great perception, madama. It’s rosso da Trincera.”
“I have heard is gaining popularity. More than aurina di Vitelio, as it seems.” She raises the chalice to take a sniff. “Not bad,” and takes a sip.
“Not at all,” the server adds, with a bow. “The aurina has been out of fashion for a while.”
“Oh, gold is so out of fashion as well,” she adds with a grin and feels a little bout of satisfaction when Helias raises his eyes from his notes to chuckle at her line. He shakes his head and goes back to writing, but he also gently rubs his ink fingers over her palm.
“A common sentiment, if I may, madama,” the server nods. “I have also heard all gold and all silver finds its way into the hands of a single entity, even here in Frigéia.”

[cont.]

>>6160383

“Isn’t that a scandalous notion,” she grins, leaning back to allow him to fill her glass and Helias’ as well. The young man bows again and leaves them to their lunch. Her crimson gaze follows him.
“Sharp. He has the wits to go far, if he applies himself. Keeping an eye open to the murmurs of power is good practice.” She allows herself a satisfied groan, her gaze roaming over the wealth that spreads for miles all around, the wealth carried by the tall ships bearing the load of the society she has built. Six centuries of grime, six centuries of planning, six centuries of pulling at the strings. Beneath the terrace where she is sitting with Helias, a man wearing the black shawl of a medic passes by, followed by three of his apprentices. Her smile grows wider.
“And not a Temple of Flame in sight!” She pouts, looking at Helias. “You’d think Frigéians would honour me a statue or something by now.”
“After all that work to arouse them against the heavens while convincing them you are nothing but a myth? That would be wasting the best trick you ever pulled, love.” He gently passes a black inky finger over her cheek and she chuckles.
“I can always pull a new one.” She stretches, making her perky alabaster chest stand out as her white hair flow in the wind, the halo of endless stars lazily circling between her black horns. “I am confident in Frigéians’ abilities to deal with the unexpected.” Then her crimson gaze goes back to his notes. “You have been scribbling over the same page for a while now. Trouble with the Etemenanki?”
“Something like that,” he replies, an embarrassed glint goes off in his golden gaze. “Even with thirty thousand souls working on it, sometimes you hit a wall.”
“We will make it,” she reassures him, tilting her head slightly. “I can always give you a few thousand more…”
“I don’t want you to strain yourself any further.”
“Oh—” she looks away, trying to ignore the spiderweb-cracks appearing on her un-flesh, those from where that blind-like-light seeps like ichor off a wound. This is his life’s goal, Helias’ very reason for existence, and yet he worries about her. Even with how focused she is in her war with Ansàrra, he thinks of her. Truly, she does not deserve him. “I have dealt with it in the past, I can surely do it in the future.”
“Lith—”

[cont.]

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>>6160385

“Anyway! I paid a visit to that wandering soul,” she adds, changing topic. He hesitates, but then nods, allowing it. “Remember that time on the beach? I did feel a powerful desire. Definitely a Strander. And guess what, it was from one of Carnaval’s little knight attendants in a steel skirt.”
“Do you plan to offer her a deal?”
“Nay,” she shakes her head, taking another sip from the chalice. “For a Strander, she is quite mediocre. I would have valued such a soul three hundred years ago but now I wouldn’t invest on that.”
She goes back to her glass, but Helias gives her one of his looks.
He knows this is not all.
The Stilladìa lowers her gaze as her cheeks darken a few shades of silver.
She has always been such a terrible liar, even by omission.
“There is something else on your mind.”
“It is merely a figment of an idea.”
He waits, patiently.
The Stilladìa slumps against the table, setting her chin on her hand once again.
“The other knight in training. The one with silver hair.”
Helias’s glassy moth curls.
“She already wears your colours.”
“Ha! Her heart burns for Ansàrra.”
“So you don’t plan to make an offer?”
“A paltry soul like hers? It would be of even less use than the Strander’s. No… it’s something else. It’s—” she bites on her platinum lips, as if words were stuck to her throat. And then— “A young woman, smitten with Ansàrra’s love, carried by her support, on this important mission, surrounded by friends. Four people, at that. A mission involving the Seven Sisters.”
He nods. The calm understanding burning in his eyes. He already know what she is implying.
“And she is in the Thronelands now. She and her group of lackeys are about to visit that Temple.”
“I would like to comfort you and tell you it’s just by chance,” he smirks.
“She does not work like that.” The white pupils set in her crimson eyes flash with an ancient anger, roused like a sleeping dragon. “Ansàrra spins chains of the finest gold, so gorgeous, so fine. So light to wear, so comforting. No, love. She is behind this.” A pause, as she finishes her red wine in one gulp. “And I can’t see the reason for it. Something is hidden to my sight, and with the Seven on the prowl…”
“I can deal with our business for a while,” he says rubbing the back of her hand. “You go investigate this.”
“Helias—”
“There will be no rebuts.”
She opens her mouth to do just that, her cheeks flush dark again, and lets out as long sigh.
“I will make it up to you,” she gives him a heated look, and Helias grins. “Thank you, love. Well, no reason to waste any more time. The sooner I set my heart to rest, the sooner I can show you just how much I appreciate your support.” She entwines her fingers with his. Oh, she is going to get creative, indeed.

But first — a visit to the Thronelands, and to a certain Saint’s temple.

[cont.]

>>6160386
>“Nay,” she shakes her head, taking another sip from the chalice. “For a Strander, she is quite mediocre. I would have valued such a soul three hundred years ago but now I wouldn’t invest on that.”
damn, willowsistas our response ?

>But first — a visit to the Thronelands, and to a certain Saint’s temple.
fuck, we're really meeting her now ?

>>6160563
>we're really meeting her now
It's almost like larger things are happening around us and Argia and the wider mission is being used as "bait" for something, I wonder if Carnaval could use the temple as a focus or something along those lines It's not like the area is populated or otherwise valuable.

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>>6160563
>meeting her now

we'll see.

>>6160772
>Carnaval using the temple as a focus

you mean? channeling through the Temple?

also, sorry for the delay, these days as hectic. next update being written right now, should update in a bit. thanks for your patience.

>>6160386

You find a nice enough spot under the shadow of a molten monolith.
The black glass feels almost comforting as Willlow helps you sit against the slick stone, while Rubida and the Asterite mount guard. No sight of any activity from your mark.
“Do you think he has expended a bit of his strength at least?” Rubida asks, rubbing her arm.
“It’s the other way around,” you hear Sandora murmur, biting on her thumb. “You must think of him of his body like a gasket.”
“A what?”
“A— right. You wouldn’t know what it is. A ring regulating the flow of water, it’s used in the Thronelands and Frigéia. There is no shortage of water on the other side, it will just keep flowing until we contain it with a Sarcophagus. Magi don’t stop being dangerous even after they are dead. That is also why I’m so worried. He shouldn’t be able to project so far, at this stage. Things are getting out of hand, already.”
“Remind me to ask Carnaval if she knows the meaning of the world ‘diplomatic’,” you mumble against Willow’s shoulder.
“Or ‘easy’,” she adds with a dry chuckle.
“How do you feel?” Soralisa crouches next to you, starting to take off your armour, exposing the flimsiness of the fabric beneath and your sweaty skin.
“Better. It’s better than before.”
“I want to do a more thorough check. Salicera, please—”
She nods and helps your bookish friend take off your armour piece by piece, piling them on one the skittering glass. She reacts immediately to her name. For all her little quirks, she seems to wear the skin of Salicera Fors much better than you expected.
A Strander.
Of all things… wonder if there’s an Ansàrra in Willow’s world as well? If the Sun-Birther’s influence stretches over there.
Soralisa sets her hands over your stomach and closes her eyes. Bit by bit, you feel echoes of her Petitioning roaming through your body.
“It feels like a great storm has singed the tip of the trees,” she mutters. “Just enough to scald you a little bit.”
“I have felt it—”
“What matters is that she will be fine. We need to find a way to deal with this.”
“How about the Asterite uses some of her ink? Maybe create a lifeline like we used to against the Malostromo, remember?” Willow proposes. “Or something else. This way we can see through the shifting space.”
“We will have to ask her.”

[cont.]

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>>6161086

As if on cue, Sandora reaches you, looking worn out. She glances at your body and gives you a half-smile.
“I heard about this proposition. I am not sure it may work, especially against something as raw as the Starry influence flowing through a Third Seat. We can certainly try. I also have, though…” she sits before you. “A couple propositions. I will hate one of them and you will hate the other one.”
“Something like this comes up only now?”
“Things are much worse than I thought. And the involvement of your patron in this is a bit too close for my comfort. This is something I would have kept to myself.”
Behind the visor, you close your eyes. Ansàrra — the Sun-Birther has passed through you before, but it was never this raw. Perhaps it’s just the place you are in, or perhaps — it felt almost eager.

As if She was also reaching out for something She wanted.
All these visions, all these weights on your shoulder — they must mean something. If only Master was here.

“You are scared you would burn,” you add.

“I am well aware that, in the eyes of the Gilded Lady, I hold far less value than the four of you,” she agrees with a wry grin. “I feel her hand is growing heavy.”

“Let’s hear these propositions.” You say. “But I will have to find an agreement with the others.”
The Asterite nods.
“Very well.”


Let’s hear the one she hates, first.

Let’s hear the one you will hate, first.

Wait — how come she is speaking about these things now? What about her Crow? You’d rather not call the Throne’s anger upon yourself because an Asterite reveals some secret. Speak about this in the Temple, perhaps?

Isn’t there anything else you can try to propose? Perhaps some of those last-moment insights you had…

thanks for playing. Sandora sure likes her secrets, hm? And Ansàrra's presence certainly knocks some sense in the heart of heathens. Or is it that pesky self-preservation instinct?

>>6161087
>Let’s hear the one you will hate, first.

>>6161087
>Let’s hear the one you will hate, first.

>>6161087
>Let’s hear the one you will hate, first.
truty old trick

>>6161087
>>Let’s hear the one you will hate, first.

>>6161087
>Let’s hear the one you will hate, first.

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>>6161090
>>6161092
>>6161181
>>6161185
>>6161405

lotsa anons learned from their moms, I see.

>>6161087


You turn to regard the others, but the choice, at least in this case, is easy enough.
“Let’s start with the one I will hate,” you reply, allowing yourself a grin. The Asterite has already gotten on your nerves many times, you think you can take one more. “I am already feeling quite sick, so I may be in the best position to listen.”

Sandora chuckles, shakes her head.

“Who knew I would find the one Knight who has a sense of humour,” she states, then stands up again and walks back and forth. “There forces at work here which go beyond our pay grade.”
“We are not doing this to deepen our pockets,” Rubida intervenes. “And I say this as the one who is most responsible for what your ilk would call wealth.”
“It was merely a figure of speech — something that goes beyond what we are supposed to do.”
“Like in the Well…” Soralisa adds, her fingers trembling.
“Which confirms the information I was given. Hence, why I could propose to involve the one player that has not been involved in this gathering of Powers.” She starts to count on her fingers. “We have seen the Seven Sisters involved, so far — then the Throne. Our dearest Argia surely counts for her homeland, and I hope I still count for my one, which leaves out…”

In a flash of insight you understand what she is going to propose.
Oh, you don’t exactly — hate it — it’s like her words are exchanging the blood in your veins for molten iron. You fear where this is going.

“What does she mean?” Willow asks.

[cont.]

Oh, Willow, you sweet Strander child...

>>6161799

“I know it is far from orthodox,” the Asterite quickly adds. “Nobody would be offering her soul or anything akin to that. But I consider myself quite apt in the art of the deal, and perhaps the Star of Night and Morn would be willing to lend an ear.”

And then Willow understands. Her plush lips turn into a surprised ‘o’.

“Are you suggesting to call on to the Adversary?!” She shouts, raising her arms to the sky.


The Asterite has exhausted your patience. No more of these propositions, you won’t hear one more word of this. Let’s just focus on the original plan.

This is beyond ridiculous. You wouldn’t mind crossing swords with her once again, but let’s hear what the proposition she hates is, now. If it’s as out of there as the first one…

The Heathen wants to curse her soul even further? By all means, let her. Let’s dip into this folly…

And right then, sometimes else comes up to you. (Suggestion, write-in, etc.)

>>6161800
>This is beyond ridiculous. You wouldn’t mind crossing swords with her once again, but let’s hear what the proposition she hates is, now. If it’s as out of there as the first one…
bruh there's no way we're making a deal with her before listening to the other options

>>6161800
>This is beyond ridiculous. You wouldn’t mind crossing swords with her once again, but let’s hear what the proposition she hates is, now. If it’s as out of there as the first one…

>>6161800
>This is beyond ridiculous. You wouldn’t mind crossing swords with her once again, but let’s hear what the proposition she hates is, now. If it’s as out of there as the first one…

>>6161800
>This is beyond ridiculous. You wouldn’t mind crossing swords with her once again, but let’s hear what the proposition she hates is, now. If it’s as out of there as the first one…

"Plush lips"? Argia, down girl!

>>6161800
>This is beyond ridiculous. You wouldn’t mind crossing swords with her once again, but let’s hear what the proposition she hates is, now. If it’s as out of there as the first one…

>>6161800
>This is beyond ridiculous. You wouldn’t mind crossing swords with her once again, but let’s hear what the proposition she hates is, now. If it’s as out of there as the first one…

>>6161800
>This is beyond ridiculous. You wouldn’t mind crossing swords with her once again, but let’s hear what the proposition she hates is, now. If it’s as out of there as the first one…

>>6161808
wise idea

>>6161810
>>6162002
>>6162323

Argia's spirit is focused. Her mind, on the other hand...

>>6162632
>>6162801
>>6163046

unanimity to see the other show drop. very well. writing.

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>>6161800

You share Willow’s frustration. In fact, it makes you feel a little better about this entire ridiculous situation. Perhaps, her reaction is proof she is coming around — or at the very least your worries about her Faith are less serious than they may sometimes appear. Your friend does not seem at all happy about the idea of selling her soul to the Adversary.

Perhaps you can rest more easily, after all this is said and done.

“Let’s hear it. You were right — your first proposition is so out there and ridiculous I would gladly laugh, but my ribs still ache, and I don’t want Soralisa’s effort to go to waste.”

Your brunette friend blushes and looks away — Rubida leaves the Asterite to set a comforting hand over her shoulder, and Soralisa seems to relax a bit.

You envy her.

“I would not be willing to sell anything permanent,” the Asterite adds. “Besides, such trades are prohibited by the Throne’s laws. The Stilladìa won’t have my soul.” She smirks. “I doubt it is even valuable enough for her to consider a trade.” And at those words Willow frowns, as if the idea of the Adversary refusing a trade is beyond ridiculous. “But the Star of Morn is willing to exchange something else besides out breath of endless life, and I am sure I could find something that would be of her interest.”

“This would involve none of us,” you point out. It’s not even a request, just a statement. “I suppose?”

“Of course not. I am well aware of how she is seen in your religion. Besides, before you take a decision on it, I would hide that cameo of yours. One of the ways to summon the Stilladìa is by breaking an effigy of Saint Bragia, and I wouldn’t risk it getting damage in the process.”

You blink and, feeling a bit silly, put your cameo immediately beneath your clothing. You may let it stay there when you put your armour back on — no sense to risk damaging such a fragile token, especially now that the Temple is in sight.

“What would you offer?”

[cont.]

>>6163734

“Secrets and knowledge,” the Asterite replies with a sheepish smile. “Not for the ears of Knights of Ansàrra, I’m afraid.”

You chuckle. Even after all this, the Asterite’s spirit is still somewhat amusing, no matter how she manages to rile you up. And you already won her precious cape in a duel.

But as for allowing it…

“Give us a moment.” You stand up, with Soralisa immediately reaching to help you, her hands trembling as she touches your waist, barely covered by your thin travel shirt, and she has a hard time looking you in the face, even when you stand up right in front of her, your chest brushing against her armour. Maybe the heat and the oppressive reverberations are getting to her.
Rubida, for reasons obscure to you, coughs in her fist, and Willow pulls you closer, draping her arms around your shoulders. “And please give me a moment to breathe?”
“A-At once…” Soralisa says, immediately pulling away. Willow, on the other hand, takes her time. When finally you four reach the other side of the slab, standing under the sun and you can look at your own reflection through the thin visor, you decide to ask the other’s opinions. Maybe one of them would be determinant in this situation.

You go with Rubida’s reasoning. This is a sacred quest, given to you by Carnaval in person. The Angel of Ansàrra would feel disgust even at the idea you four can interact with the Adversary. To honour and her the mission, no deal will be done, not even through some Asterite.

You follow Soralisa’s suggestion. Even if the Adversary were to interact with you, as long as you hold fast onto Faith she has no power over you. If Sandora wants to exchange something of hers, that would benefit the entire expedition. Soralisa is showing an intriguingly shrewd reasoning, but it’s hard to call it wrong.


You like Willow’s wit. Okay (‘okay?’ you won’t pick up strange earthen expressions, will you?) te Strander may be putting herself on the line, but this is still the Stilladìa. If she wants to deal with her, she will have to discuss the entire process with you. Her secretive attitude is growing tiresome.

And just as you finish listening to them, something else strikes you — (Write-In)

is it just me or is the ArgiaCup opened again? Hmmm... I suppose time will tell-- thanks for playing, at any rate.

>>6163735
>You follow Soralisa’s suggestion. Even if the Adversary were to interact with you, as long as you hold fast onto Faith she has no power over you. If Sandora wants to exchange something of hers, that would benefit the entire expedition. Soralisa is showing an intriguingly shrewd reasoning, but it’s hard to call it wrong.
alright, despite being our enemy she can't force us into a deal so this should be ok and besides... https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CcPgeAiK70Y

>ArgiaCup opened again
that fire temple cleric sure was handsome, but Soralisa is cute too.

>>6163735
Every vote was to listen to the other option first but where is it?

>>6163761
Yeah, +1!

>>6163735
Tentatively (see above) voting
>You like Willow’s wit. Okay (‘okay?’ you won’t pick up strange earthen expressions, will you?) te Strander may be putting herself on the line, but this is still the Stilladìa. If she wants to deal with her, she will have to discuss the entire process with you. Her secretive attitude is growing tiresome.
Though I'd rather hear Option B first.

>ArgiaCup
Nah, I'm with Willow until such time as she fucks up bad enough to stop making out.

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>>6163735
>You follow Soralisa’s suggestion. Even if the Adversary were to interact with you, as long as you hold fast onto Faith she has no power over you. If Sandora wants to exchange something of hers, that would benefit the entire expedition. Soralisa is showing an intriguingly shrewd reasoning, but it’s hard to call it wrong.

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>>6163761
re-reading the update, maybe I did not make it as clear as I wanted. They are still discussing about the first proposition (contacting the Stilladìa), and discussing how Sandora would deal with it. After the current voting session you will hear about her other proposition (the one Sandora herself would hate). Discussing the Stilladìa is quite important so I wanted to give it time to breathe as an update.

>>6163735
>You follow Soralisa’s suggestion. Even if the Adversary were to interact with you, as long as you hold fast onto Faith she has no power over you. If Sandora wants to exchange something of hers, that would benefit the entire expedition. Soralisa is showing an intriguingly shrewd reasoning, but it’s hard to call it wrong.

>>6164012
>pic rel
Argia if she had the personality of au Rubida
>>6164026
That makes sense now, I was gonna ask if some part of the doot was cut

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>>6164181
nah, it's just the QM being retarded as usual

that pic is real cute, even if boobs are a bit too big (maybe AU gives you free implants? something to ponder...)

also merry Christmas Vigil anon. with some luck there may be a small Christmas update, we'll see

>>6163735
>You go with Rubida’s reasoning. This is a sacred quest, given to you by Carnaval in person. The Angel of Ansàrra would feel disgust even at the idea you four can interact with the Adversary. To honour and her the mission, no deal will be done, not even through some Asterite.

>>6164197
Obviously her boobs have not reached its maximum potential yet

>>6164197
>that pic is real cute, even if boobs are a bit too big (maybe AU gives you free implants? something to ponder...)
I assume you don't know who dat is then. lmao.

>>6164234
No idea, yea

>>6164297
She's Princess Angelise Reiter, a ff14 oc that is a "villainess" and her creator commissions lot's of art of her being either a dom or getting dommed by others. She got popular enough that even people who don't play it might've seen fanart of her and thought she's an actual character.

>>6163735
You follow Soralisa’s suggestion. Even if the Adversary were to interact with you, as long as you hold fast onto Faith she has no power over you. If Sandora wants to exchange something of hers, that would benefit the entire expedition. Soralisa is showing an intriguingly shrewd reasoning, but it’s hard to call it wrong.

Merry Christmas

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>>6164304
I see sort of a wonderbread moment. Nice tits tho

I don’t play FF xiv even though some of my friends swear by it. Last year I listened to a lore video while doing workout, that’s the extent of my knowledge

I may have a weakness for blue-eyed blondes (even more so if they are evil… and in my stories they are usually evil)

This specific brand of autism fuelled by whales paying artists is among my favourite ones to be fair

>>6164311
Merry Christmas anon, praised be the Sun-Birther

>>6164327
>wonderbread moment
???

>>6164332
There is some guy who commissions/commissioned a series of images from various artists, all of them depicting a blonde woman shopping for huge amounts of wonderbread and putting it in her cart. he commissioned so many artists he became sort of infamous, and this situation remind me of it. I won’t post pics because it’s not relevant to the quest at all but a quick search will open this magical realm to you, if you dare enter it…

>>6164327
>I may have a weakness for blue-eyed blondes (even more so if they are evil… and in my stories they are usually evil)
if you enjoy them also getting correct, she's the one for you then.

Merry christmas everyone

>>6164304
Convenient how you left out the plethora of commissions of her fucking horses.
White woman moment.

>>6164393
>Convenient how you left out the plethora of commissions of her fucking horses.
I forgot about those since I don't search for her, lmao

>>6164393
What's Argia's forbidden fetish?

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>>6164728
it's forbidden, I can't say.

>>6163758
>>6164012
>>6164065
>>6164311

4 for Soralisa

>>6163814

1 for Willow

>>6164208

1 for Rubida

interesting state of voting for now. Update in a few hours, just wanted to take a moment and thank you all for readying and playing. It feels really precious to have you here, on Christmas Day, for this Quest.
Thanks. Pic very much related.

>>6164728
Soaking
>>6164739
soralisa cooking with the doctor letter. did you do all of those or did you ask someone else as well ?

>>6164783
this makes me happy because I wrote all those myself, trying to make them look as different as I could. wasn't easy.

>>6164739
Cute letter!

>>6164783
>spoiler
Checks out.

>>6165164
>Checks out.
I'm surprised someone here knows what this is

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>>6165164
glad you liked it anon

>>6163735

You spend some time discussing under the unrelenting sun. Her touch feels closer here, and the heat does not leave your chest, or your innards. But you can focus on your friends’s words.

“I vote against this madness,” Rubida sternly raises her point and her arm as well. You wonder how bad her old wound hurts at the mention of working with the Stilladìa. Even if the Adversary seems to be different from the Seven Sisters, the fret in Rubida’s tone clearly shows she wants nothing to do with either. You can hardly blame her. “We will honour this mission through our strength alone.”

You would have agreed with her without even thinking, just a few weeks ago. But the changes you went through, and these visions — and Willow’s words… you are starting to wonder what your destiny truly is, and what Ansàrra requires of you. And if perhaps your quest won’t bring you in deep dark places ere it lifts you in the light.

“Okay,” Willow says, “that’s good, but that does not solve our troubles. I’d say that we may let her put her neck on the line. Who cares if some Asterite’s soul gets gobbled up anyway?” She hesitates, licks her lips, full of worry. “Wonder what happens to ours… at any rate, my suggestion would be to let her do it, but she would lay the entire process out first. I don’t trust a woman who speaks with the Stars.”

“I support this…” Soralisa trembling holds up her own arm. “And in fact, I would suggest we allow her to do it, no matter what. If the Asterite wants to sacrifice something of hers for the mission, don’t we all benefit from it?”

“That’s shrewd,” Willow grins. “Coming from you? I’m surprised.”

“Soralisa—” Rubida starts to interject herself in the conversation, but you hold up your arm and she stops.

Uh.

[cont.]

>>6165686

Since when did you have the power to make a Noble hut up just because you raised your arm?
With your cheeks burning, you continue.

“We have to be shrewd. This latest encounter showed us we are fairly unprepared, and we cannot wait for the Sun-Birther to help us out every time. Helps yourself so that Heaven may help — isn’t that what they say in the Holy Land?”
“And not just there,” Willow nods, agreeing. “I would still like to know more about this, but if she wants to try this— no more objections.” A grin. “Your honour.”

The heat to your cheeks grows.

“I— I suppose we can go back.”

“Can you walk?” Soralisa asks, getting closer. “A-And thank you for accepting my idea.”
“Of course she can walk,” Willow says, once more draping her arms round your waist. “She’s our Vanguard.”

Your head spins, and not just because you can feel both their bodies pressing against you. No, with this decision — if the Asterite summons her, you would be witnessing the Adversary. The source of all your troubles. The patron of merchants.
You gulp, your hand brushing against your sword. Perhaps this would offer you a chance you have never even hoped you could get… a chance to carve your rage into the Adversary’s skin.

You four go back to the Asterite, patiently waiting in the shade.

“We have reached a consensus. When and if the situation requires it, you may call upon the— the Adversary. For the benefits of our mission only, of course.”

“Anything else would require a steeper price than I am willing to pay.” She nods. “That’s settled, then.”
“Not completely. What about the proposition you would hate?” You ask.

[cont.]

>>6165687

“Ah, yes,” she replied rubbing her lower cheek. “There is something else. This would be far less troublesome in the short run, but it may put me in all sort of trouble in the future. I cannot speak of it just yet, but I do have something that the Crows do not suspect.”
“Some sort of weapon,” Rubida whispers to your ear. “Can we trust that?”
“Is it going to be dangerous for us as well?”

“Only if you were to look at it directly,” she answers your question. “It is embedded in one of my teeth. I can use it to greatly increase my connection to the Stars, but it is not going to last long, and I can’t let the Crows know about it under any circumstance, so I’ll only be able to use it inside the Temple.”

“Right where the peril would be greater,” you sigh.
“What about your Crow, then?” Soralisa asks, curious as ever. “Isn’t she around? Should you even speak of it?”
Sandora trades looks with Willow.
“She’s not around here,” Willow confirms. “I haven’t seen her since we left the village.”
“Crows are forbidden to stay long in these parts. I bet she’s been visiting on and off, but never for a long time. That is why I will only show you this where they cannot see. And neither will you, if you care about you well-being. It is a— how do I put it — rather peculiar thing I own.” She grins. “Enough to have them put a nice and tight sarcophagus around me and throw me in some dungeon to fuel the Throne’s hot baths.”

[cont.]

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>>6165688

Once again you wish Master were here. He would know what to do.

“Very well,” you sigh. “We have two extreme resources, and a way to perceive if the area around us is being changed. Would you please spread a net around us? With your ink — so we can see if and when there is anything incoming our way.”
“I doubt it is going to make the difference, but I can do that. I have more than enough Silt.”
As Sandora prepares herself, you turn to your other friends. The confrontation looms, and you don't have much more time to spend in discussion or preparation yet.


You could practice your Sanctions with Soralisa, and prepare something.

Are you taking the right decisions? Perhaps a discussion with Rubida and her political and social expertise would soothe your heart.

Discuss the news with Willow. Perhaps her Earthen insight can give you some help. Or at least support. You need support from your friends.

Oh, and also… (Write-In, Suggestion)

as always, thanks a lot for playing. Hope you had a nice Christmas anon! Let's see what you decide to focus on as the confrontation comes closer.

>>6165690
>You could practice your Sanctions with Soralisa, and prepare something.

>>6165690
>You could practice your Sanctions with Soralisa, and prepare something.

>>6165690
You could practice your Sanctions with Soralisa, and prepare something.
We have a lot of faithless fairweather friends in the mix. Let us pray for understanding.

>>6165686
>You could practice your Sanctions with Soralisa, and prepare something.
Good to be back, haven't had the time to read at all.

>>6165690
>You could practice your Sanctions with Soralisa, and prepare something.

>>6165811
>>6165690
To clarify, poor formatting aside (forgot the ">"), this is meant to be a vote for Sora.

>>6165690
> Discuss the news with Willow. Perhaps her Earthen insight can give you some help. Or at least support. You need support from your friends.

>>6165690
>You could practice your Sanctions with Soralisa, and prepare something

Claiming this get for the next roll. HEED IT, sunseeker, or else.

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>>6166666
Oh, and don't forget we have a banked 100 for the next sanction we petition. Which we're pretty much doing right now.
Enjoy!

>>6166699
Holy shit, I forgot that. Yes please.

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>>6166666
>claiming a roll before it comes

I'm usually against such shenanigans, and next anon to try it outside of its proper place will have results disregarded, but

>quints

the will of Ansàrra shines upon the world.

>>6165710
>>6165730
>>6165811

good thinking anon

>>6165823

welcome back anon! take your time and pace yourself.

>>6165837
>>6166178

6 for Soralisa cavorting

>>6165922

1 Willowchad


writing...

>>6167392
I do what I must to claim the best gets. In the name of Ansàrra.
I will be claiming >>6666666 for her when the time comes, nobody will steal this from me. Heed my words, for they are prophecy.

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>>6166666

well, you got QUINTS, so...

>>6165690

It takes you a few more hours to cover the distance to the Temple. When you finally reach the outskirts of the huge building, it looms over you five, with its bulk of stone — and the air seems to be rippling, not with heat but with some other kind of energy, the ill might of the Stars.

“We have company,” Willow whispers, turning her head to the side. The visor stops you from reading her gaze, but it’s clear she has spotted something.

Your hand reaches for your sword. You had to expect your presence so close to the rogue Asterite wouldn’t go unnotic-

“It’s not that,” she adds, seeing your movement. “It’s the Crow.”
“Hm,” Sandora notes, taking the news with seeming disinterest.

Right. If she’s around here, it’s not the moment to speak about whatever the Asterite might hold in her mouth, nor about summoning the Adversary.

Starless Night, what kind of thought you are even having… your shoulders slump. No idea how you should feel. Your hands twitch at the idea of piercing the body of the one who sponsored and endorsed merchants — but at the same time, the idea of facing her, while you are on a mission… it’s terrifying.

“Perhaps you should take a break,” Rubida says, spotting your nervousness. “We all ought to, but you more than anyone else. How do you feel?”
“Better— I can deal with this.”
“You’re a terrible liar, Candente. Did anyone ever told you?”
“I think you did at least once.”
“See? You should listen to your betters. Always said so.” She sighs. “Even if now I meant it in a different way… Soralisa,” she says addressing your friend. “Can you spend some time with her? I think she needs a bit of proper company, and I want to check something with the Asterite before we go through.”

Soralisa perks up at the mention of her name, while Willow frowns.

“D-Do you need my help with something, Argia?”

[cont.]

>>6167441

At this point, you just might. It would be good for the mission, as well.

“I was thinking if you could help me prepare a Sanctioning circle,” you lie. Rubida’s words gave you an idea, but Soralisa would get scared if you’d tell her right away, and Willow would be against it. “After what happened I’d rather focus. And I feel like I need to center myself.”
“Sure!” She looks at a suitable place, finding a spot beneath a leaning tower, or what might have looked like one at a time. The formless mass hangs molten, its features destroyed by the immense heat which turned the ground into glass all those centuries ago. You glance at your own reflection. And you are about to tread the same ground as Saint Bragia, once again — wonder what all those visions mean.

“Maybe I should come as well,” Willow adds.

“No Salicera, I need you here,” Rubida says, setting her gloved hand over Willow’s armoured shoulder. “Especially if the Crow is still around.”
Willow sighs.

“She is.”

“Will you be fine, just the three of you? Maybe we should set up a ward before we go,” you propose.

“Don’t worry about it. Go talk with Soralisa. Salicera and the Asterite and I will stay here, we are more than guard enough. At least, I surely know Salicera is.”
Rubida’s supporting words make your friend stand up a little straighter.

You follow your brunette friend until you both sit at the shadow of the molten monolith, with the Temple peeking past it.

“I have always wanted to visit this place. Ever since I first started studying the past of the Holy Land. This lost Temple has always been fascinating to me.”
“I can easily see that,” you reply. You can only imagine them, but your friend’s eyes must be burning behind her visor, like every time she speaks about history or legends, or some other kind of lost lore. “You will make for a great scholar one day. After your tenure as a Temple girl,” you add. “Even if you hate traveling and journeying, it still has brought you to places you have always wanted to see,” you add, remembering Soralisa’s constant foul mood since you met her. She had always been an indoor animal.

“I— I am not sure, Argia. I don’t want to get hurt again. I don’t want anyone of you to get hurt! If it were for me, we would have never departed. We could have enjoyed Ansàrra’s light for ever, and there would be no need for mysteries, or training, or— or sword-fighting, even!” She raises her arms to the sky. “I’d wish for peace, always.”

[cont.]

always the dreamer.

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>>6167443

“Me too,” you reply, taking off your visor. You blink, trying to keep the glare at bay. Your eyes are already starting to sting. You turn to see the other three discussing, while the Asterite is casting her net of black lines, with Rubida instructing her to do something and Willow on the prowl, walking back and forth, looking for threats. “I would have preferred to stay in my homeland with my vineyard and my vintner duties.” You detach your upper armour, setting it aside like you did last time. “At first I used to believe just caring about your own vineyard would have been enough to hold back evil, but then evil strutted right in. Peace is built on the back of people like us. Remember the town of the festival?” Its name has slipped your mind, but Soralisa immediately nods.
“Yes — why are you taking off your armour?”

“Unlike that one, every town and every village and every city in my homeland has thick, heavy walls. They are all surrounded, protected, all at the ready — the Holy Land has known peace for hundreds of years, and I am glad I was called to protect that peace, before my family is allowed to take part in it. But it’s all the same.”

“I just don’t want you to get hurt because of me,” Soralisa whispers. “Like it happened before.” She weakly grinds her hands together. “I had never wanted to come here. I want you to stay safe. A-And Rubida as well! And Soralisa, even if I know she can take care of herself.”

She can take care of threats that hold a sword against her, of that much you are sure. As for all the other threats…

“I know. That’s why I think Rubida had a fantastic idea. I would need your help and guidance.”

“What for? We already trained Sanctioning. Do you—”

[cont.]

>>6167447

“The Asterite gave me the idea. She mentioned something I would hate, and something she would hate. For all this talk of prophecies and destiny, look at us: Ansàrra holds us in the palm of Her hand, and I even received this,” you pat against Carnaval’s feather. “Not to mention Master’s training, the sword we found and… you. All of you.” You hold out a hand and Soralisa tentatively sets hers against yours. “A group of friends.”

“Argia…” biting her lip, Soralisa leans forward, grasping you into a hug. She doesn’t let go, not for a few long, peaceful moments. She’s back to the same girl who spent hours detailing you the history of the Holy Land, and you truly feel like your relationship is completely restored. You let her hug you — wondering how she came back to your starting position, while you… you have changed so much.
And are about to do some more changes.

Your brunette friend pulls back.
“Sorry. that was uncouth of me.” She chuckles. “Even if I ought to get used to it, as a Sunwell petitioner. Once we get ordained, I will be hugging and embracing all sorts of souls in need of comfort. But I feel like this was more than just practice.”
“It was,” you agree, stripping down and taking off the rest of your armour, remaining in your underwear under the unrelenting Sun. “And that brings us back to what Rubida said. I definitely needed a conversation with you.”
“Oh, but did she also suggest you take off your armour?”
“No, that is my idea.” You sit in front of her, crossing your legs on the glass.
Your idea.
Your insane idea.
“I don’t understand…”

You pull on your undershirt, turning your bare back to Soralisa.

“I need your help with something only you can do.”

[cont.]

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>>6167448

Soralisa’s mouth opens in understanding.

“Argia, that’s— a-are you sure? It would be extremely painful!”

You do not really care.
Besides, you won’t even lose that much blood. The Sanction will make sure your wound cicatrise in an instant.

You pick up Carnaval's feather and hold it out for Soralisa to take.

Boundless is the Dawn.

“Yes,” you sigh, “I need you to chisel a Sanction on my flesh.”
Sanction of the Cleaving Chain - linked to memories of Frà Catena, Saint Bragia’s mentor, this Sanction evokes the memory of its namesake, blessing the petitioner with the ability to link powerful blows together. The next combat roll after a NatCrit (97-100) is automatically considered a success (you will still roll to check for criticals).

Sanction of Twin Thunders - linked to memories of Esta Tempestati, Saint Bragia’s fellow Knight and second Archiater after her death, blessing the petitioner with the uncanny ability to resist a blow. Once per day, instantly re-roll a failed roll (even a Nat 1). You must accept the second result, even if it’s worse.

Sanction of the Hallowed Horizon - linked to memories of Candeloro, Saint Bragia’s childhood friend and confidante, the builder of the six Eyes of the Sun, blessing the petitioner with hallowed insight. Close your eyes and receive a +36 bonus to your next roll or check. Usable one time per day.

Well, anon, time to choose. Pick your poison and raise the knife. Soralisa will help you through your ordeal and you will gain your permanent bonus. Nobody ever said that gaining Ansàrra's favour through quints would be painless.

Could this be yet another avenue for me to explore my fascination with ritual self-harm? nah, it's just a silly quest!

>>6167450
>Sanction of Twin Thunders - linked to memories of Esta Tempestati, Saint Bragia’s fellow Knight and second Archiater after her death, blessing the petitioner with the uncanny ability to resist a blow. Once per day, instantly re-roll a failed roll (even a Nat 1). You must accept the second result, even if it’s worse.

I never asked for this

>>6167450
>Sanction of the Hallowed Horizon - linked to memories of Candeloro, Saint Bragia’s childhood friend and confidante, the builder of the six Eyes of the Sun, blessing the petitioner with hallowed insight. Close your eyes and receive a +36 bonus to your next roll or check. Usable one time per day.

Some enemies will have insurmountable bonuses. Rerolling will guarantee nothing. With this, we come closer to the overwhelming might of Ansàrra. The same might that destroyed these sands. Strive to reach ever-greater heights, Argia.

>>6167450
>Sanction of the Hallowed Horizon - linked to memories of Candeloro, Saint Bragia’s childhood friend and confidante, the builder of the six Eyes of the Sun, blessing the petitioner with hallowed insight. Close your eyes and receive a +36 bonus to your next roll or check. Usable one time per day.
I was split between this and the 1st, but >>6167462 brought a good point, that is a lot of our enemies have the same bonuses or more than us.
>>6167450
>Could this be yet another avenue for me to explore my fascination with ritual self-harm? nah, it's just a silly quest!
that explains why you seem to like writting lebanese, hornyness aside.

>>6167450
Sanction of the Hallowed Horizon - linked to memories of Candeloro, Saint Bragia’s childhood friend and confidante, the builder of the six Eyes of the Sun, blessing the petitioner with hallowed insight. Close your eyes and receive a +36 bonus to your next roll or check. Usable one time per day.

>>6167450
>Sanction of the Cleaving Chain - linked to memories of Frà Catena, Saint Bragia’s mentor, this Sanction evokes the memory of its namesake, blessing the petitioner with the ability to link powerful blows together. The next combat roll after a NatCrit (97-100) is automatically considered a success (you will still roll to check for criticals).

>>6167450
>Sanction of the Hallowed Horizon - linked to memories of Candeloro, Saint Bragia’s childhood friend and confidante, the builder of the six Eyes of the Sun, blessing the petitioner with hallowed insight. Close your eyes and receive a +36 bonus to your next roll or check. Usable one time per day.

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>>6167461
>>6167462

inspiring words, anon

>>6167479

>that explains

kek, that may be one reason. I feel like writing a yuri novel, as toxic as I can make it.

>>6167528
>>6167728
>>6167785

interesting votes so far. I'll let this open until tomorrow to see if the situation changes as this is a very important vote. Thanks for playing, thanks for carrying this silly quest throughout 2024, and wish you a nice New Year's Eve vigil.

May 2025 bring you all good things.

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>>6167862
Happy New Year! Have a gift image

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>>6167862
Happy New Years

>>6167862
Happy new Years, QM!

>>6167450
>Sanction of the Hallowed Horizon - linked to memories of Candeloro, Saint Bragia’s childhood friend and confidante, the builder of the six Eyes of the Sun, blessing the petitioner with hallowed insight. Close your eyes and receive a +36 bonus to your next roll or check. Usable one time per day.

Happy new year

>>6167448
Just finished reading all three threads and caught up to this one by 2am, didn't vote though because I had too much champagne and better to vote with a clear head. It has been a treat so far reading it all.

>You share Willow’s frustration. In fact, it makes you feel a little better about this entire ridiculous situation. Perhaps, her reaction is proof she is coming around — or at the very least your worries about her Faith are less serious than they may sometimes appear.
I find it interesting that despite Argia worries about Willow's lack of faith, the fact that despite all her doubts and whispers towards Willow's ear to doubt Argia's religion, which thankfully Argia still doesn't know about that bit (bless this tolerant stone-headeddisciple because there is a limit to how much heresy one can take), Willow still chooses to follow Argia and try and understand this alien religion ofAnsàrra when previously Willow couldn't care less, which means she wants to understand Argia herself, if anything that is proof that Willow does have plenty of faith..just more on Argia and way less inAnsàrra.

Still I call that progress"Faith which does not doubt is dead faith" having said that correction when?

Oh and before I forget
>Sanction of the Hallowed Horizon - linked to memories of Candeloro, Saint Bragia’s childhood friend and confidante, the builder of the six Eyes of the Sun, blessing the petitioner with hallowed insight. Close your eyes and receive a +36 bonus to your next roll or check. Usable one time per day.
I was also split on 1st because of an off chance of rolling a crit fail, but 36+ per day is just too useful, Argia will need any possible advantage going forward.

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>>6168178

Hey Anon... this was just one of the best comments I ever received. Thank you so much for reading! I am really happy you found it so enjoyable, and the thought does send my head into a bit of a spin.

also, are you by any chance the same anon who defined the quest 'a treat' when I first posted just a few updates back in May? Back in the very first thread.

>Willow still chooses to follow Argia and try and understand this alien religion of Ansàrra when previously Willow couldn't care less, which means she wants to understand Argia herself, if anything that is proof that Willow does have plenty of faith..just more on Argia and way less in Ansàrra.

oh blessed be the Dawn, I love it when anons get it.

>Faith which does not doubt is dead faith

worry not, Argia's faith will get a nice injection of life pretty soon. and maybe another. and another.

>and before I forgot

thanks for voting! it seems the Hallowed Horizon is winning. this is extremely funny to me, and there may be a chance anons will see why before the end of the thread.

Also, the Quest is finally golden on SupTG! this... gives me a special feeling. I have always wanted to reach it, so thank you all a lot for bringing us there. I'll try to write a worthy continuation and keep earning your support (not your patreonbuxx, thankfully. I have feet pics for that)

# # # # # #

sappiness aside, you get 15 more hours for voting, then it's closed. if you want to cast your vote on this important decision, do it now. this vote will stay relevant for how long the Quest lasts approximately 17 minutes

>captcha: M0GD

>>6168379
>Hey Anon... this was just one of the best comments I ever received. Thank you so much for reading! I am really happy you found it so enjoyable, and the thought does send my head into a bit of a spin.
I live to please, and if I am able do look forward to more spins.

>also, are you by any chance the same anon who defined the quest 'a treat' when I first posted just a few updates back in May? Back in the very first thread.
I only really joined /qst/ back in october and I started to read this thread and the previous ones to catch up a few weeks ago and I would have caught up to it early too but waking up 5am every week to drive from one city to another kinda messed with my reading flow

>worry not, Argia's faith will get a nice injection of life pretty soon. and maybe another. and another.
Looking forward to it, may Ansàrra conserve her

>Also, the Quest is finally golden on SupTG! this... gives me a special feeling. I have always wanted to reach it, so thank you all a lot for bringing us there. I'll try to write a worthy continuation and keep earning your support
Absolutely earned, silver knight to golden knight2 now even more golden and shiny.

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>>6168452

>more spins

if you have the time they'd be greatly appreciated

>only joined in October

ah, then it was another anon. as for the reading flow, take your time. we'll be here for at least a few more threads, Ansàrra willing.

>absolutely earned

thanks!

alright, the votes have been cast, the Sanction of Hallowed Horizon has been chosen. time to write.

updating...

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>>6167450

Soralisa whimpers. Her hands twitch. She reaches for her visor and bit by bit she takes it off, revealing her hazelnut eyes, blinking fast before the glare of the sun.
“Argia— we just renewed our friendship. How can you ask me to cause you that much pain?”

“I was a fool,” you reply, gritting your teeth. “I thought we could just coast through this without really thinking. I believed Carnaval’s words — that this would just be a diplomatic mission, but it’s clear now the word has a different meaning to the Angel of Ansàrra.” You chuckle. “And I thought I could achieve what I want for my family without great sacrifice, just by giving it my best effort.”

You rub your fingers against the cameo still hanging from your neck, the faded ivory brushing your cleavage.

“Master gave me this to remind me that my strength lies not in being faster or stronger or quicker — it lies in putting my trust in others. In things greater than myself.” You take off your cameo and hand it over to Soralisa, who touches it for the first time. She shields her eyes with her free hand while she tries to peer through the secrets that old trinket seems to hold.

“You would give this me?”

“For the time being,” you chuckle. “May it help you like it has helped me.” You close your hand over hers, helping her take the most precious thing you have. “We are so close. One last adventure, and we will all have what we wish for. You can come back. Rubida will honour her family. Salicera can become a Knight.” A sigh. “And I can protect my family. I have spilled blood already. What does it matter if it’s my own?”

[cont.]

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>>6169184

You turn to check on the others. The three women are discussing something, and Willow seems to be involved, while Rubida holds out her hand to encompass the horizon and the silver ring above.
It looms over you, just like the Temple.

You haven’t covered your hair. You are ready to show the curse you bear, and to display your Faith as greater than any curse. Greater than the chance to meet the Adversary.

“I don’t want to hurt you. I don’t want to hurt anyone,” Soralisa pleads. “What if my hand slips? What if I cut through one of your veins, what if I—”

“Are your hands slipping now?” You smile, nodding towards your entwined hands. Your brunette friend’s feels firm inside your own.

“N-No.”
“Then it won’t slip when it will be Ansàrra guiding it.” You nod again, and let go. Soralisa sighs and rubs at the cameo with her fingers, then shudders. “This is ancient. This has—” She blinks, her mouth opening in shock. “Argia. Where does this come from?”

“It was given to me by Master.”
“No, I mean— how did he acquire it?” Soralisa’s hand keeps rubbing, as if exploring its ancient surface.

This is something Master never shared.

“I have no idea. Perhaps during one of his journeys? When we come back you can ask him. It’s not the time to wonder about ancient history, Soralisa. I need you focused on this task, please.”
Soralisa frowns.
“I am not sure… the past speaks. Like at the festival for Kishirra, remember? Then, the past was singing. With this thing—” she hesitates. “It screams.” Soralisa shakes her head. “But so be it. I was the one who asked not to be made a burden. I will share the load.”

“Never a burden,” you smile, gently tucking one of her brown locks behind her ear, and she blushes. “Try to remember that.” Then you turn on the smooth ground, giving Soralisa full access to your naked back. “Now please get to work.”

“I— I don’t have a golden chisel.”
“Me neither,” you reply picking up Carnaval’s feather, Her sun glinting off its dagger-sharp edge. “I was given something better.”

[cont.]

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>>6169193

# # # # # #

When she appears upon the Glass Heath, a wince appears on her alabaster features, her crimson eyes unbothered by the glare, her pale skin unbothered by the oppressive warmth.
But her heart remembers.
“Tch,” the Stilladìa curls her lips at the sight of the molten Temple, sitting so close as it raises from the crystallised plains. She looks at her hand, as if it could hold onto something forever lost.

Then she sets her first foot forward. It is no time for reminiscence.
And that road has been forever shut.
She will make good use of the time her beloved husband gifted her.

So, when she finds the group of women standing by just a few steps ahead, she tilts her horned head, her white hair flowing as if following a secret wind, while their bodies stand still like statues.

“That’s the Strander,” she muses as she approaches the brunette, running her slender fingers down the length of her braid. She takes a sniff from her exposed neck, as the immobile young woman is frozen arguing with the other two. “Smells like regret. Unresolved cravings, a hole never filled—” she scrapes her black-tipped finger against her tetracerarmide armour. “And a self-serving heart.” She chuckles. “Earthlings are not sending their best, hm, Ansàrra?”

Then it’s the turn of one of the Knights. Something pulsates from one of her arms.

“Apologies… just checking.” She whispers, detaching her glove and pulling up her armour as if it was mere fabric. When she sees the mangled remains of her arm, she winces once more. No need to get closer to feel the reek of the Sisters. “That was uncouth of me,” and she sets her armour and glove back.
Still, she is not the one. Her eyes are a deep blue, almost Kiengir blue, to be fair, and her hair—
She runs her fingers through it.
“Silky. But… are you dying it black?” A dry chuckle escapes her platinum lips. “You have been touched by the Seven’s foulness and yet you do your best to resemble their image.”
She shakes her head.
“Youth. Truly.”

[cont.]

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>>6169198

There is another, blonde, tall — the Asterite. She is of little concern, or interest, even if that little thing shining inside her fake tooth might be interesting. Under different circumstances.
“None of them has silver hair, though…” she turns away from the trio, and then—

Her eyes must be starting to fail her in her old age.
She strides towards the two girls sitting nearby, beneath a molten monolith which would have been a road marker in the past.

The brunette one is holding something in her other hand — maybe a necklace? Hard to see — but her right one is holding one of Carnaval’s feathers. Its glowing blood bubbles and sizzles, flaring before her presence.

“The Angel must be feeling generous,” she comments, giving a wide berth to the feather. One never knows with those things.

But the girl sitting there, showing her back to the brunette, bears shoulder-length silver hair. Her blue eyes are a different shade from the mockery of Kiengiri beauty standing behind them, lighter… almost icy. The Stilladìa crouches in front of her, tilting her head again. The stars flowing between her horns like a school of thousands and thousands of fish pulsates, casting its silvery brightness over the girl’s features.

“And this would be Ansàrra’s new pawn,” she sighs, tracing the girl’s cheeks with the black nail on her fingertip. “Strong shoulders, fine features. A few too many scars for one so young, both inside and out.”

Her crimson gaze travels down the silver-haired girl’s chin, neck, collarbone, stumbling upon her exposed chest. The Stilladìa purses her lips, then tentatively cups her own svelte figure with her free hand.
Hm.
Giving the girl’s chest an explorative squeeze, one of her eyes twitches.
And so firm, too.
She is lucky her husband has such good taste in women.

[cont.]

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>>6169202

“Nature’s blessings aside—” she grumbles, a faint dark sheen covering her alabaster cheeks, “I do wonder what makes you so special in her eyes. What makes Ansàrra tread upon broken ground…” she lets her words linger, peeking into the girl’s soul.

A family, shattered.
A mission, given.
A meaning, gifted.

Upon the last one, the Stilladìa takes in a long breath. An old habit, one of the few she still retains, even if her body hasn’t needed to breathe air in centuries.

“You know little. And yet— you treasure that little. You hold onto it.” The Stilladìa picks up one of her silver strands, puts it behind her ear, watching how her grey locks, a shade so out of place on her youthful features, catch the light of the sun. “You hold onto it so hard your hands bleed.” A chuckle. “I feel like you would be one to honour your word. A shame you have already given yourself to Ansàrra, a shame your soul is worth so little. I could have made you great.”

She leans back, with more doubts and questions than before.

The girl is worth little more than the blood in her veins.
Which makes her worry even more.

Why would Ansàrra coil her golden threads around her?
This Argia Candente was present when the Sisters last tried to incarnate. Now she has been gifted one of Carnaval’s feathers and she is here at that Temple.
Why?
Why retread old ground, give all these responsibilities to one so resembling the late Bragia Lacresta?
Just as a taunt?
The Stilladìa rubs her fingers together, frustrated. It’s not the first time that, no matter how hard she tries, she cannot peer through the veil cast by Ansàrra’s onyx hands. There is something amiss. A piece of the puzzle, which—

One of the stars floating between her horns pulsates an angry red.
“Oh, why now?” She hisses, holding out her hand to let the mote of light land in her pale palm, staining it vermillion. It keeps casting a needy crimson light. The Stilladìa sighs, closes her fist and the star goes back to keep company to the others.

Contract terms. If she were the first one to break them, how could she hope for others to uphold it?

“Consider me charmed, Argia Candente. May our next encounter be more fruitful,” she says, fading into the air, as she releases her grip onto reality and time flows back into motion.

[cont.]

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>>6169207

# # # # # #

You grit your teeth.
Sweat, which has ran down your neck, soon evaporated, leaving your skin tingly.
Between broken - harsh - breaths - in and out - in and out - you keep your eyes closed, focusing yourself on your inner world, on the face of your parents, on your war embraces, on the touch of Ansàrra.

The warm, soft one.

While Soralisa sculpts your back.

You expected it to feel unbearably hot, and it was for a couple moments, but it turned cold — and then it left you with a dull ache.

Perhaps your flesh has been cooked too deeply to feel heat anymore.

“I have finished,” Soralisa whispers, lifting the feather from your back.

“— have you?”

“Yes. The glyph is complete.”

You can feel it, feel its shape and trace it back on the path of pain. A circle, and two intertwining triangles, and the circle and the three rays — Her symbol —, and many other ones, too fine and too fresh for you to count.

“Are you well? Can you stand?”

You nod, but you still hold your arms up, and your brunette friend lets go of the feathers, which scrapes against the glass, and then helps your stand. Your back aches. It stings.

Opening your eyes, you check yourself in the monolith’s reflection. It’s a circle, indeed.
Your flesh is red, the lines a deep vermilion, burned. The rest singed with the heat of the flames, to seal it in.

You close your eyes again.

In the darkness, there is a faint golden brightness. Like a haze, a fog that is slowly coalescing in front of you. A guiding light.

You can live with the pain.
With the reek of burnt flesh.
Through it.

“I can stand,” you reply.
“Are you well?”
“I shall be.” You pick up the pieces of your armour and start to fit yourself back with them, hesitating when it’s time to strap your corset. You pull on the latches and—

It presses against the pain, making them flare off like oil sizzling on a searing pan—

“Argia!”

“I am fine.” You finish putting yourself together.
I shall be.

“Did I—” Soralisa hesitates.
“You were great,” you reassure her through your gritted teeth. Starless Night, is this painful. Your back feels like it’s been raked. Which it has. “And your hand was firm.”

“I tried to do my best. I did not want to hurt you.”

“You were great. Thank you. Apologies if I do not pull you into an embrace right now. Did you hurt your own hand using the feather?”

[cont.]

>>6169213

“N-Nay,” she replies giving it back to you, and the cameo as well. “The feather was useful. T-There was a moment at the very start when the blood inside seemed to flare up, and I got scared, but it was just a moment. I feel like it helped guide my hand.”

“Does it ever.” You take it slowly set it against your chest, then tuck it inside your armour like before. Just a hunch.

You two walk back to the others, your back stiff. Rubida glances at you, eyes wide, then at Soralisa. It looks like she and Willow were arguing about something, while the Asterite was busy casting her net. The sun is still in the sky. It must have cost her a lot.

“We are finished.”
“Argia,” Willow hisses, coming closer. “What did—”
“A little something that will help us. It stings a bit, don’t… please don’t touch my back yet.” She withdraws her hand, and her mouth twitches, just as Soralisa puts her visor back on. You hold yours in your hand, then put it in your backpack, the feather secured at your side. You close your eyes again.
The light glows, just behind you.

Towards the Temple.

“What did you do,” you hear Willow whisper to Soralisa’s ear.
“What— what she asked for, I just wanted…”
“Soralisa did a splendid job,” you find yourself interrupting her, setting your hand, still trembling with pain, over Willow’s shoulder. “There will be no discussing this. We are almost there.”
“Argia—”
“I said no.”
Even with the visor covering her eyes, you spot a look crossing her face — shock, then, the disappointed curve of her lips.
And you were the one who asked her to stop it with the secrets.

To think you were starting to believe you could have finally learned that dance between people. But no, you keep stumbling.

“Wil-Salicera, I—”
“So be it,” she withdraws from your touch. “Your faith burns hot, Argia. Just do not let yourself be consumed by it.”

The Asterite, probably thinking herself inconspicuous, starts nodding fast.
The things you have to put up with—
May the Sun-Birther give you strength.

“Let’s just just climb to the entrance.”

Willow opens her mouth as if to retort, but then she picks up her things and joins the others, though she lingers in the back, while you and the Asterite walk ahead — she is holding her arms up as thin filaments of ink, cut the air around you.

Not a ripple, not a wink. Everything seems to be fine.
Save for your back.
And your heart.

But Willow will understand.
One way or another.

[post.]

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>>6169217

# # # # # #

The climb is exhausting.
The ritual demanded you were given no reprieve, so the pain is still pulsating through your body with every step. And Willow’s gaze feels heavy upon your shoulders.

Do not let yourself be consumed by it.
Is it even up to you?

Your cameo, for once, holds no answers.

After a few more steps, the low hill upon which the Temple rests levels and you can take a few deep breaths.
The building is huge. So tall you can barely see the pyramid’s summit, and so wide the corners seem to disappear into the horizon. Its volume and weight seem to make you five disappear, like specks of dust.
The entrance looks like a dark mouth, slightly tilted to the side due to the heat.

Willow whips her head to the right, and she mutters something to the Asterite, who nods, lowering her inky wards.
As you turn towards the two, you glance at the far horizon. The silver ring cuts right through it, and past it, you see the strip of untouched Thronelands you crossed when you entered the Glass Heath.
Past that, the grey sea.
And something hits you. Something you notice only now, from this vantage point.
The Glass Heath, the Spiana di Castelvetro which Ansàrra seared into the clean earth centuries ago, the area which you believed to be shaped roughly like a circle, shows instead five strips extending into the distance, biting deep into the Thronelands, for miles and miles.

The shape of a hand.
Willow might have spotted something important.

Before entering, you decide to check the area around the main entrance (will follow Bo6 perception Check)

The sun is not getting any higher, the night looms. Better find this Rogue Asterite before his powers increase, get in the Temple.

(write-in or suggestion)


oof. long as fuck update, but mostly it was hard as fuck to write, considering it carried certain extremely important hints about certain extremely important things. I hope you enjoyed it anon — also, the part where the Stilladìa cops a feel and has to face Argia’s blessings was quite fun to write, I’ll say. Oh, and just to make it clear: this update was just about the quints bonus — you /still/ have the banked Nat 100 for your Sanction. All in all it was a good chance to add a few more pointers towards what I have planned. And as always, thanks for playing. I’ll be around for comments and questions. See you soon.

>>6169219
>Willow might have spotted something important.
The stilladia touched without paying. I think we should smite her.

>>6169219
>Willow might have spotted something important.
No stone left unturned, my inner loot goblin demands it

>She is lucky her husband has such good taste in women.
Even Stilly is humbled by the power of bread and milk diet

>“There will be no discussing this. We are almost there.”
And the more Argia leans on the leadership role, the more those shoulders of hers will get stronger, master will be proud. I do feel bad for willow, but honestly considering she wasn't the one who had to rake her just after their renewed friendship I feel more for Soralisa

Oh right /1dUX4aB is me, dynamic IP address is a pain

>>6169202
>Giving the girl’s chest an explorative squeeze, one of her eyes twitches.
>And so firm, too.
>She is lucky her husband has such good taste in women.
Moggilladìa is also a grapist, damn. not that I think Helias minds
>>6169219
>Before entering, you decide to check the area around the main entrance (will follow Bo6 perception Check)

>>6169219
>Willow might have spotted something important.
Leggy lass, what do your earth eyes see?

>>6169219
>Before entering, you decide to check the area around the main entrance (will follow Bo6 perception Check)

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>>6169253
>smite her

a good idea for the future, anon

>>6169264
>the power of bread and milk diet

unmatched power

>the more those shoulders of hers will get stronger

let's just hope they don't break, anon. ||the Night is all around us.||

>>6169270

thanks for letting me know. it happens to me as well, I have my ID change at least 3 to 4 times per thread.


>>6169309
I keked

so far 3 votes for Willow and 2 for the check. voting will stay open until tomorrow (let's say about 18 more hours)

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>>6169219
>Willow might have spotted something important.

>>6169678
I'm sure Willow's eyesight is 10/10

thanks for voting anon. one more win for Willowchads?

>>6169219
>Willow might have spotted something important.
I HATE DYNAMIC IPS I HATE DYNAMIC IPS

>>6169219
>The sun is not getting any higher, the night looms. Better find this Rogue Asterite before his powers increase, get in the Temple.

>Willowchads win

>>6169219

Just as the shape of the Glass Heath reminds you of the wondrous might of Ansàrra ere she was wounded by the Adversary, you notice Sandora holding her fist up and the inky wards withdrawing inside it.
“What are you doing?” You ask, trying to take long, soft breaths to keep your fresh wounds from hurting.
From hurting too much.

You are lucky they shouldn’t impede your movement or hinder your battle skill, but they are sure going to make themselves known.
“There’s Crows about,” Willow whispers, tossing your a quick look. She lowers her gaze, rubbing at her chest, as if soothing an old wound, like Rubida would do. “At least three. I thought it wise to warn you.”
“You did well,” you reply.
Was that the right thing to do? Willow nods, a corner of her lips twitching, as if she liked your reaction, but couldn’t express it.
Or she didn’t want to.
After all, you are in the middle of an argument here—
Is your position at the helm of your group turning you into something you are not?
Is it poisoning the friendship you share?

Thoughts for when this mission is over. There is a time for doubts and this is not it.

“You can show yourselves,” you shout, raising three fingers up in the air. “We have noticed you, and are here on a diplomatic mission on behalf of Carnaval, Archiater of Ansàrra. If you wish to help us or hinder us, let it be known!”

The Asterite chuckles.

[cont.]

>>6170959

“Your Vanguard has such a way with words.”
“You should have seen her at the Saint Kishirra festival a few cycles ago,” Rubida chuckles in tow. “Her fashion sense may be lacking and her manners akin to a country bumpkin’s, but she is getting better.”

Whatever answer you may give those two stops in your throat as three figures come into sight, as if revealed through thin fog. Two women and a man, all of them tall and clad in black clothing, secured to their pale flesh by latches and hooks. Their faces obscured by a silver mask, they each hold what look like heavy metal clasps.

“Please relax, Knight of Ansàrra,” chimes in one of the women, walking towards the Asterite.
“Not a Knight yet—” you remind them.
“Whatever you rank may be, it is the same to us. We are not allowed on this wasteland for long,” the man says, joining the other two and presenting the clasps. “We have been waiting for you. Here are the promised tools.”

They give Sandora the clasps, and you notice how her hand twitches as she is forced to pick them up.

“I hope they are strong enough.” Then she touches them and winces. “Oh. They are.”
You feel like a secret laughter spreads through the Crows. The enmity between the three black-clad people and the Asterite is palpable. It feels like you were to walk down the streets of Frigéia, full of murderous merchants.

“Bring the rogue one back, tamed and made useful,” the male Crows reminds her in a soft whisper. “The Throne expects, if not usefulness, at the very least fealty from you, Madama Mirari.”

Rubida quirks an eyebrow and you lend her an ear.
“They did not even call her her Magistra,” she whispers. “No love lost among these people.”

[cont.]

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>>6170962

Sandora, though, gives them an amiable smile and a bow.

“Great is the Throne’s wisdom. May justice be served.”
“May it be.” The man turns his head to regard you. “And may the friendship between our two people ever prevail.”

“We are here to do so,” you reply, without real commitment.
The Asterite is sometimes bearable, but you have no hopes for the rest of her Country. The Holy Land has no need for alliances.

The Crows turn on themselves and disappear, just like they have come.
“They’re gone,” Willow nods, reassuring you.
“Heavy gift, they brought,” Sandora muses, showing you the clasps. They look like the chains you would put on a condemned man. “And a reminder.”

“For whom?”
“For me,” she grins, opening her backpack and putting them inside. “These will help us subdue him when we finally reach it. They work like the Sarcophagus you have seen on the ship.” The metal does look the same, just as heavy and just as cruel. “There may be a day when I am also brought back to heed and made useful,” she sighs, then stands up straight with the backpack secured, and opens her arms to send out the inky web once again. “There may be.”

Wonder what would have happened if Willow did not ask you to stop. Would the Crows have given you what you needed anyway? The Throne’s participation in this was to lend you a guide and little else.
Once again, it strikes you as particular that Carnaval, and thee Sun-Birther in turn, would agree to this — sure, the Temple was threatened, but—

No. No more thinking.
Thinking would get you nowhere.

“If our preparations are complete, I would get in. Her Sun is still high.”
“Indeed,” Sandora agrees.

You five walk on the glass surface until you stand before the entrance, taking off your visors and rubbing your tired eyes. There is no ripple in the air. The Temple looks just like it has been for the past six hundred years, a molten memory to the might of Ansàrra, embalmed by Her touch.
With the comforting weight of the cameo upon your breast, you signal Willow to come closer.
“I want you next to me,” you say, and you don’t miss the glint going on in the eyes of your other two fellow trainees. “Rubida, can you please watch our back? Soralisa, please try to expand your perception. Your knowledge will come in handy to find the correct layout to the inner chambers.”
“Why are you so sure the Asterite hid himself in the depths?” Sandora asks.

[cont.]

>>6170965

“Back when I used to be a vintner, the rats always skittered in the darkest and gloomiest part of our barn. We had to get them out with traps and lures.”
“This is a big rat.”
“That is why we have five big lures,” you reply, and the Asterite laughs.
“I am going to miss you after this is over, Argia Candente. You will make go back to my administrative work seem so much more boring.”
“You are welcome to visit the Holy Land, at any time,” you reply, producing one of your luminiferous rods and raising it high, looking upon the dark threshold. “Truth always embraces those looking for it.”
Willow sighs as you two enter at the same time.

The stone steps leading to the inside feel solid, tremendously ponderous as your golden light washes and bathes the entrance, the Asterite’s inky web still regular and spotless.

“Soralisa?”
“Y-Yes,” she replies, the blush to her cheeks a bit too dark for it just being the Asterite’s torches or your rods. She covers her face with a veil, and holds up her arms, amidst which dance golden sparks. “This is the welcoming vestibule. Where pilgrims would sit and recover from their long journey. It seems Her heat touched the stone here as well, it is all molten and smooth.”

You nod. A shame. You would have wanted to see Willow’s reaction to the magnificence of this place. Perhaps in the next few rooms. You raise the rod as high as you can, casting more light. A row of ten columns spread from the entrance to the other end of the hall, dividing the space, and right at the other end there seems to be a series of entrances.

“What sort of attacks can we expect?” You ask Sandora.
“He will try to get us by surprise, but I can be sure he’s been thinking long and hard about what to do. He did kill three Crows, after all. But he was touched by your sun-loving goddess back there. A wounded rat will rethink its strategy, even if it will stay a rat.”

“Salicera?” You ask. Good. At least this time you remembered to use her Maduan name. “What do you think?”

[cont.]

hopefully Argia's childhood experiences will help her.

>>6170968

“I’d say let him come. Why are you worried about anything after all?” She shakes her head. “You have already given your soul to Ansàrra, so why not reap the benefits,” she adds, in a whisper so soft you hope you imagined her.

But your heart knows you did not.

“I’ll be taking Salicera to explore further. Rubida, check on Soralisa. Asterite, please let us know if anything changes.”

You walk forward and Willow follows you. You won’t be able to hide your whispers from Soralisa, not when you prompted her to expand her perception, so you’ll have to be smart about this. As you two walk in silence, you check the columns. The back show some inscribed figurines and words, which are too faint to make out. The blast which turned the Glass Heath into what is now must have washed the interior of the Temple as well. For a while you may not find any inspiring bas-reliefs to show Willow.
“I have given it freely,” you say at last, to which Willow whips her head towards you, the light glinting in her grey eyes. “I did not expect a reward. Nor benefits. This is not a barter.”

“Sorry,” she replies, shrugging. She rubs at her chest again. “I did not really mean that. It’s just— you saw what they did to that Asterite on the ship. And what may have happened to Kishirra. Don’t you think that giving your soul to someone else is—” she bites her lip. “It sounds like too big a commitment.”

“You are Knight in training, Salicera—”

“She wasn’t there for me the first time,” she adds, as if talking more to herself than to you. “And yet here I am. I know my destiny. I know what I want, I know I want to be great, I know what I need. Then why—”

[cont.]

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>>6170969

“I did not ask for it either. It wasn’t by choice. One day Master appeared in the Landing Strip, and that was my call. And whatever has happened, She is here for you now, as well. I would like you to look at the Temple properly when we reach the lower levels. You will—”

“I’m not the one asking for salvation, Argia,” she replies, looking at you. She reaches for your cheek, cupping it softly. Oh, the heat rushing to your ears. Soralisa must be seeing all of it. “But you have seen what is going on, all around us. Secrets upon secrets, all wrapped up in half-truths. I can’t see you wasting yourself after a half-truth.”

“It is not—”

“I know it is not a lie, that’s what makes it so dangerous. I have seen it, Argia! Why can’t you…” she tosses her head behind, catching Soralisa turning her head just as quickly. “Ansàrra is clearly enamoured with you.” She comes closer, so that her breath touches your ear. “And what has happened to the last girl she was enamoured with? Aren't we in the Temple built around Saint Bragia’s legend? Who is clearly dead.” Her hand reaches for your shoulder. “Think with your own head.”

She withdraws just as you reach the end of the hall.
Two open doors stand before you, leading down into the darkness.


Take a peek to the left one, from which comes a faint wind.
Take a look to the right one, that smells faintly of copper.
Suggestion/Write-In

thanks for playing. Willow is clearly worried about our silver-haired doofus. Let's all hope it will come to nothing.

>>6170972
>Take a look to the right one, that smells faintly of copper.
>But before doing that casting a Sanction of Sunwell Warding would be useful now.
Chances of getting separated or ambushed are skyhigh, and covering all our bases shouldn't hurt right? I vote for a sanction

>Don’t you think that giving your soul to someone else is
Willow is worried and jealous, then again competing with Ansàrra isn't easy.

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>>6170996
>voting for a Sanction useful to increase Perception

interesting thinking anon

>competing with Ansàrra isn't easy

you versus the goddess they tell you not to worry about

>>6170972
>>6170996 +1

I think Willow is also suspicious because of her upbringing. It's not just that she's secular: she bought into NPC theory even before she got isekai'd, and presumably saw the religious as sheeple. She strikes me as a gamer, being at the very least a 4chan user, so she probably is familiar with the trope that JRPG-style isekai worlds full of cute magic knights ALSO have a secretly-evil church, and these little glimpses of temple politics and the Sisters' whisperings must be encouraging that train of thought.

>>6170969
>“I’d say let him come. Why are you worried about anything after all?” She shakes her head. “You have already given your soul to Ansàrra, so why not reap the benefits,” she adds, in a whisper so soft you hope you imagined her.
really ? I get not liking Argia hiding stuff, but did you need to act like a bitch ?
>>6170972
>“Ansàrra is clearly enamoured with you.” She comes closer, so that her breath touches your ear. “And what has happened to the last girl she was enamoured with? Aren't we in the Temple built around Saint Bragia’s legend? Who is clearly dead.” Her hand reaches for your shoulder. “Think with your own head.”
c'mon now, the adversary killed her. you can't throw that on Ansàrra. I wonder how much of it is her natural mistrust and how much is the larva's doing.

>Take a look to the right one, that smells faintly of copper.

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>>6170972
>Take a peek to the left one, from which comes a faint wind.

>>6170972
>Take a peek to the left one, from which comes a faint wind.

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>>6171021
>>6171078

I really like the reasoning behind these comments. Though I can't exactly comment further on them. At least not now. I'll have to let future updates speak for themselves, but I like there is discussion about Willow's motivation and how this reflects upon your decisions, as well as the Sun-Birther's.

>>6171263
anon clearly shows strawberries go well with melons.

20 more hours for voting.

>>6170972
>Take a look to the right one, that smells faintly of copper.

>>6170972
>Take a peek to the left one, from which comes a faint wind.

>>6170996
Changing my vote to this

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>>6171614
>>6170996

as well as other anons: while we are waiting for the final votes to tally, please give me a Bo3 2d100+10 (each anon rolls 2d100+10), so I can compare your results against the Sanction and hopefully embed it into the scene.

>Sanction of Sunwell Warding: will warn you if a creature comes within a certain distance from you. Very useful for exploring places you have never been before. Lasts for one hour since activation. DC to cast: 32. DC to resist weariness: 48.

to be fair I didn't expect people to remember about this silly little Sanction. good thinking anon, spoiling all my plans for a quick and easy ambush

Rolled 59, 22 + 10 = 91 (2d100 + 10)

>>6171681

>>6171684
thanks expresso anon

Rolled 21, 96 + 10 = 127 (2d100 + 10)

>>6171681

Rolled 33, 34 + 10 = 77 (2d100 + 10)

>>6171681
Thanks smart anon for reminding us that we can vote and add things to it.

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Rolled 80, 87 + 10 = 177 (2d100 + 10)

>>6171681

Rolled 7, 12 + 10 = 29 (2d100 + 10)

>>6171681
That's thanks to me recently catching up to the thread and wanting to check out qm's pastebin notes to be sure I wasn't missing anything else. and I wasn't even planning on suggesting a vote on that perception sanction, I was actually going to suggest the one in the first thread where Argia's arm became a torch but I was struggling to remember the name, so I checked the pastebin and here we are..

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>>6171816
>That roll
Wow

>>6171684
>>6171702
>>6171726
>>6171753
nice pic anon
>>6171816
good thinking! also it's not like those notes contain an hint or two about the story...

very well. nice rolls all around, your final results will be:

Best of 69,31,43 vs a DC of 32 (passed)
Best of 32,106,44 vs a DC of 48 (passed by more than 50...)

great job!

writing.

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>>6170972

You check with you luminiferous rod, melting the shadows down into their corners, carving a pair of staircase from each entrance. From the ones going upstairs comes a faint wind. If your discussion with Soralisa taught you anything, it comes from the terraces on the upper levels, where the ceremonies were supposed to take place.

If this is anything like the other Temple of Flames you have been in, there must be a central shaft that carries the light of the inner sanctum. Wonder if you are even allowed into it, given you are supposed to be anointed Knights before you step inside.
But if Carnaval allowed you to come here, you can suppose there’s going to be further bending to the protocol.

“The upper floors probably lead into the open air,” you say, turning to Willow, who just nods, a few steps behind. “While this other one leads into the depths of the Temple. Take a sniff. This smells like copper.”

She does, but she tilts her head, stunned.

“How can you even tell a metal apart from another?”
“Vintner’s nose,” you reply tapping on it. “Back when we used it to store wine, it got always covered by a green patina over time. In enclosed spaces it gains a distinctive pungent smell. Temples use copper for their lining, so the chambers below must be where we must go.”
Willow chuckles, and bites on her lip.
“I know what you are doing.”
“What?”
“Thinking.”
“Is it dangerous?” You allow yourself a smirk.
She rubs the bridge of her nose, blushing a bit at your soft reprimand.
Master taught you how to think, indeed. You may be better at using a sword than words, but that does not mean that you don’t know how to put two and two together.
“I don’t want to lose you,” she mutters. “What happens if Ansàrra calls you upon herself like she did with Madama Kishirra? What happens if we are all just tracing back the steps leading to Saint Bragia’’s murder? Are you going to leave me all alone, here in this world? I just found someone who can understand me.” She leans forward, touching your hand. “I just want you to value your own life a little more.”
“I am not leaving. There’s the mission, there’s my family to take care of. And a Stranger who might need to learn to be more patient.”
“Yeah, I don’t know if I have the time for that—” she smirks again, but then gives your hand a long squeeze. “I’m sorry. My anxiety is speaking, not me. It’s hard to keep my head level, it’s —” she hesitates again. “Nevermind. Just tension. Try not to get yourself killed, Argia. Or… summoned to higher plans of existence.”

[cont.]

>>6171994

“It is not up to me,” you remind her once again. “But I will be here for you for all the time that I am gifted,” you say, trying to reassure her.
Willow bites her lip, but then she nods, and gives you a hug.
“Please don’t disappear in a burst of sparkles. I lost all my friends once already.”
“Your friends are not going to lose you, this time. Not by the will of Ansàrra.”
And speaking of which, there is something among your Sanctions which may help you right now. A minor Sanction, one which may be called forgettable—
But so useful right now.
“I’ll be taking a moment to pray,” you say, leaning against the wall. “I’ll try to commune in order to gain insight.”
“I see.” Willow squints towards the staircase leading down. “We had to ascend one the last time, in the Well. Why does that seem a little too poetic to me? Hey, give me one of your rods, please.”
“What for?” You take out one of them.
“I’ll be taking a quick look below. I don’t like this silence.”
“I don’t want to lose sight of you.”
“You are going to close your eyes for praying, anyway — besides, uh—” she blushes again. “Perhaps after this is over I can get you another kind of cameo. Just an idea! I’ll be back soon!”
You don’t really like the idea of Willow walking downstairs all alone, though.
“Salicera. Pace back and forth,” you tell her as Willow tentatively steps downstairs. “So I will know you are still there.”
She nods, and then you lean against the wall, touching it with your forehead. Your wounds are still a bit too fresh.
“Oh, Sun-Birther. Grant me warding.”

[cont.]

>>6171995

# # # # # #

Willow does as she is told. She takes a few more steps, admiring where the rod shows the ancient decorations coming back from the molten rock. This must be the place where Ansàrra’s rage couldn’t turn stone into glass anymore. She can only make out part of few ancient words in Maduan alphabet (which letters are surprisingly similar to the English ones), and a young woman’s face, turning up as if to receive a gift.
She traces her profile with her fingers, then turns back and starts pacing, to soothe Argia with the echoes of her steps. She’s still there.
“She’s always been there…” she sighs.
If only it was like old times, when trusting people was the hard part. How can you trust people when most of them were nothing but empty shells anyway? Just actors playing a script?
It was the same here — but it wasn’t the same for Argia.
Willow can’t stifle a fond smile as she thinks about her silver-haired companion.
She was there for her, after the festival.
When she told her the truth, in the field at night.
And yet—
Why does she feel like now, that she has at last, at long last, found a soul that matters, she is about to get taken away from her?
Just a hunch.
But a hunch that’s gnawing at the back of her head. Too many little hints connecting together, creating a pattern she can’t make whole yet.
She reaches the wall and goes back again.
How long is Argia going to pray?And most importantly, what is Ansàrra going to tell her?
Who has even seen the mysterious Goddess anyway? Only the blind are allowed next to her. Carnaval is the only exception.
And the Adversary as well.
“Not saying anything?” She taps against her breast, where the vial with the worm rests.
Sometimes it’s like this. It gets awfully quiet.
It’s the moments she dreads, because it’s usually when the worm gets things right.
“Alright, calm down…” she takes a few deep breaths, feeling her chest pressing against her armour.She’s being paranoid as always.
Argia deserves her trust.
The goddess watching over all of them, on the other hand…
Willow raises the bright rod to cover another section of the wall, depicting a young woman raising her mace to the skies, just as a pair of black hands descend on her shoulders.
She doesn’t like it.
But Argia needs it.
Her shoulders slump — she’ll just have to support her.
As long as it does not get her killed…
She gets closer and that’s when she feels it.
That pungent smell.
Of… copper?
She turns towards the descending staircase and she barely has time to reach for her weapon against the encroaching, glistening hands that come out of the darkness, the closest one grasping her throat.

[cont.]

>>6171996

# # # # # #

You open your eyes.
It was a remarkably easy affair, this time.
Perhaps due to your efforts with Soralisa, but you just slipped inside your inner world, just stepped beneath the stone arch under that strange sky, that you felt yourself bathed in Her attention, and surrounded as if by an invisible bubble, the edge of which rests at about six paces from you.
Good. At least you won't be surprised if something gets too close.
At the edge of your perception, you heard Willow’s steps back and forth.
She complied with your suggestion.
Good.
That makes your shoulders rest easier — and in fact, they do. You tentatively arch your back to feel it restored.
“Oh…”
Once again, the Sun-Birther handed you Her grace.
Finally a stroke of luck.
“You can come back up,” you shout downstairs, looking for signs of Willow.
There’s none.
Only darkness.
And silence.
Oh.
You unsheathe your sword and throw yourself downstairs. Nobody steals a friend on your watch!

You run back to take one of the others with you. At least you won’t be alone. (if voting for this name either Soralisa, Rubida or Sandora)

You immediately take the whole group downstairs, no matter the rush. There’s no more time for preparations when one of you is suddenly missing. (the whole group comes down, but the lack of preparation may make things a bit hard to deal with)

Add a suggestion


thanks for playing. Your good luck with the previous rolls not only rewarded you with the Sanction, but it even healed the pain from your back wounds. Just in time...

>>6171998
>You unsheathe your sword and throw yourself downstairs. Nobody steals a friend on your watch!

>>6171998
>You unsheathe your sword and throw yourself downstairs. Nobody steals a friend on your watch!

Normally I wouldn't go for the risk, but I am going with the assumption that whatever grabbed Salicera wasn't expecting anyone finding out that quickly or reacting fast, better strike the iron while it's hot (or strike while someone is busy choking willow)

>>6171998
> You unsheathe your sword and throw yourself downstairs. Nobody steals a friend on your watch!
never leave a battle buddy behind

>>6171996
>Willow raises the bright rod to cover another section of the wall, depicting a young woman raising her mace to the skies, just as a pair of black hands descend on her shoulders.
I was thinking wtf was this supposed to be, then I remember you once saying Ansarrà being onyx colored
>>6171998
>You unsheathe your sword and throw yourself downstairs. Nobody steals a friend on your watch!

>>6172226
Is Ansarra an elf?

>>6171998
>You unsheathe your sword and throw yourself downstairs. Nobody steals a friend on your watch!

No one gets left behind

>>6172227
>Is Ansarra an elf?
not really, why ?

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>>6171998
>You run back to take one of the others with you. At least you won’t be alone. (if voting for this name either Soralisa, Rubida or Sandora)
Rubida

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>>6172227
>>6172299

nah, She is much more than that, even though she is associated with Elves, especially those who took up the Faith to escape their reincarnation cycle (not a great many Elves around these days)

>>6172226

correct. I have yet to provide a proper description of Ansàrra. this may be due to important lore reasons or just me being lazy and a hack writer

>>6172003
interesting ideas, anon. let's hope Willow is not into choking

>>6171998
>You run back to take one of the others with you. At least you won’t be alone. (if voting for this name either Soralisa, Rubida or Sandora)
Rubida

>>6171998
>You unsheathe your sword and throw yourself downstairs. Nobody steals a friend on your watch!

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>>6172442
so what you're saying is there needs to be state sponsored elf breeding programs

>>6172970
what I am saying was that there used to be. sadly, the Epochalypse took all that away...

six more hours for voting.

7 votes for running down the stairs right away

2 votes for getting your favourite armoured cheerleader with you

writing (your day will come, Rubidasisters...)

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>>6171998

Your heart thunders in your chest and against your armour, plunging you straight into alertness just as the feeling of your restored back had you let out a breath of relief.
“Wi-Salicera?”
No answer.
“Starless Night,” you curse, turning towards the entrance. “Salicera has disappeared downstairs! I’ll come check on her, you two stay by the Asterite!”
“What?” Rubida exclaims, her axe glistening in the little light that still comes from the entrance. “Why are you going alone?”
“Because she needs me!” You shout back, and Rubida has only the time to slap her palm against her face as you scramble for another of the luminiferous rods. You packed up a few from when you left the Holy Land, but you should be more careful not to carelessly run out.
With your sword in your right hand and an ember of Her sun in your left one, you quickly descend downstairs. The stone around you changes, turning from black and smooth and featureless to its old dark grey colour, covered in ancient bas-reliefs and writs. To your left, one depicts a short woman holding a mace — just like in your cameo — as a pair of onyx hands descend upon her shoulders.
Saint Bragia.
At another time, you would stop to marvel at her presence, even just in marble.
“Salicera!” You shout again, reaching the end of the stairs, fanning out into a small square room, still covered with the remnants of ancient wooden planks, now turned to piles of ash. The air smells even more like copper, that specific smell that brings you back to the canisters of fresh grapes, back when you still used to have a family with you. “Salicera! Answer me!”
You close your eyes, letting the Sanction you were blessed with speak for you.
At the edge of your perception there is nothing — just an endless void, with the faint sheen of the gilded sphere which would scream and break if hostiles would rush in.
You grit your teeth.
This is your fault.

[cont.]

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>>6173158

You draw your group inside, and such a great leader you are. The friend who is counting the most on your, disappeared. You must recover her. She must be worried sick, or… or worse.
Sun-Birther, let it not be worse.
The room shows you no further hints, but as you open your eyes again and crouch to check on the pavement, you notice a series of scrapes on the floor.
Right. The Temple’s inner pavement is made of ordinary marble and granite, here away from Ansàrra’s fury, it wasn’t destroyed and reformed into that glassy sheen.
You pass your armoured fingers over the scrapes. Some of them show a faint grass-green colour. What can scrape stone and leave green in its wake?
You frown, running a hand through your silver hair.
What kind of—
No, wait. Think.
The glow is golden, it’s not like the white sunlight outside, thus this grass green would actually be more of a blueish hue.
Just like—
“… verderame.”
The patina left on copper by time and corrosion.
You cross the room, following a faint sound. And as you raise your rod, you pass into a narrow hallway, which descends at a steady pace towards the centre of the pyramid, closer to the nether rooms where the flame used to burn back when this place used to be in use.
The noise get stronger — it’s distorted but it sounds like someone is struggling, a female’s voice… it’s Willow’s.
Your heart picks up pace again. Dawn be blessed.
Perhaps you can stop fearing the worst.
Then something scrapes your shoulder. You stumble, and turning back you see something sticking out of the tessellated wall: a piece of copper, shiny under the light of the rod. Its deformed shape seems to loom back at you, with two large holes and a third one beneath, its edges covered in verderame.
It looks a bit too much like a screaming face.
A shiver runs through your spine even as the copper was unable to damage the tetracerarmide armour.
You proceed, and with every step more copper follows, its fragments and pieces all seemingly reaching out to you, hindering your progress. You have to push through a few slabs, left there as if half-molten, having scraped the pavement and the wall just like you saw in the other room.
“—hnnhffme! Fuck you!”
Ah, at least Willow seems lively.

[cont.]

this is peak autism on my part, but I did not want to use 'verdigris', as its origin is both from French, and it means 'Green of Greece', which would make no sense used here, so I decided for the Italian term which would be in Argia's vocabulary.

>>6173159

“I’m coming!” You shout, reaching the end of the corridor.
There, your rod carves out of the darkness a mass of copper, bulging and shifting like living metal, its surface made of liquid faces, gaunt visages and hands, hands, hands — endless fingers holding onto Willow’s struggling form, holding her against the wall, trying to reach into the rest of her armour to pull it off, already making the latches and hooks holding her under armour almost come apart at the seams.
Willow’s single grey eye looks at you, its pupil contracting to a pinpoint.
You raise your sword.
“I’m he—”
And that’s when you do feel something crash against that gilded sphere — a high note resounds behind you, warning of an attack — you step back, away from a torrent of hands that would have pulled you into another deadly embrace.
But a pair still clamps its chilly grasp onto your leg.

[cont.]

>>6173161

# # # # # #

She raises her morningstar, diving through the slick black flesh. The pieces of corrupted meat fly off into the distance, eyes turning glassy as the thing screeches, covering her in filth. Its translucent blood burns and sizzles on the ground, destroying what little vegetation there is left. Under the gloomy dawn of the Night Lands, the sky covered in the shadow of the planetary ring, the Stilladìa curls her platinum lip at what she is supposed to do.
The creatures she was contracted fighting does not seem to care about proper engagement rules, nor about not being a blob of tentacles, mouths and filth. It screeches again, a strangely-fluted sound, and raises its tentacles, turning its ends into sharp blades.
She groans, cleaning her face from the sticky goo that this thing is leaving on her.
At least, it is not ruining her clothes.
Past the thing, the villagers hold their breath, huddled in their huts and wooden homes, waiting for this silver angel, summoned by one of them, to save them from this monster.
She might have to amend contracts terms in the future.
She is no Paladin of Ansàrra.
Why did she agree on being used as one?
“And you are making me waste time,” she hisses, dancing between the blades as the frenzied creatures slices at the air, rising clouds of pulverised vegetation and destroyed soil where they pass. Her long white hair flow between the blades.
Then her crimson eyes twitch as she notices something — the holes she has punched in the thing are starting to patch up, limbs regrowing, eyes popping back into place, followed by hungry mouths.
At another time, it might be mildly amusing. Who knows what these people did, to wake a lost Kiengir relic from its sleep.
“On a scale from Elves to… well, you, you win the prize for ugliness, as fr as Kiengiri creatures,” she clicks her tongue as the thing slings its mass towards her, trying to envelope her, leaving behind a trail of sizzling plants and burned-up soil. “Oh, no. No, that’s a— ew.”
Air flickers around her and she flows through it, reappearing with a flash and a thunderous sound a hundred paces away, as the thing notices her and lunges towards her, enraged by its wounds.
“I hate this.”

[cont.]