Once there was a brave and strong knight, who slaughtered a tricky, annoying harpy who wouldn't let him pass.

The end.

My Paladin pulled a Gandalf while we were running from a Dragon in some caves.

That was pretty cool I guess. Especially since he didn't die.

>>25990972
Implying you could even reach me

>monstergirl that doesn't want to vacuum my semen for once

MARRY ME, YOU SENSIBLE THING. WE SHALL CREATE A STORY TOGETHER.

>>25990953
You want a tale, harpy, I will tell you a tale.

Magic is relatively rare in our world. The most rare and prized magical item are ancient airship.
We don't quite know how they were built, but we do know all we had to do is bind an elemental to them and they could fly.
And there was this airship that crashed years ago in the plains of Anathor. Funny thing, because we too had a harpy kin in the party.

And she had that most bizarre idea - she wanted to gift the gift of flight to all, and the way she decided to do so is by repairing the said airship. That was her obsession.

>>25991023

>bows

Wanna see this magical human invention at work?

>>25990972
She can probably fly, fucknuckle.

>>25991155
>knight
>using a peasant's weapon

>>25991101
Let me be the first to tell you reaching the airship itself wasn't that easy. Either it attracted elemental beasts, or the crash itself produced them.
We had to fight our way to the crashed airship, see? We saw strange things. Wolves that spew fire. Some kind of earthen frog. A singing elemental.
The worst was some floating green eye with snake hair. A gorgon eye. It was a tough fight. It had this gaze that would turn living matter to stone. It could summon snakes out of nothing. It was a terror. And we suffered some loss.

But eventually, after many days of fighting, we secured the airship wreck.

There was once a stupid harpy asking stupid questions

So I turned her in a rock and throw her in the darkest river I found, for eternity

>>25991174
> laughing harpy.jpg

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One time I stabbed a giant crab in the face after insulting it in its native language.

Pissed the half-elf off something fierce, I don't think they liked how I used the ancient and gentle language of woodland creatures.

Worth it.

>inb4 edgy replies about the harpy being killed/threatened/raped/something bad-ed by the busy traveler
We're supposed to be good at stories, you guys.

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>>25991174
>>25991186

That's right. It's so funny, everyone's havin' a good time, just keep on laughin'...

>>25991175
Now, I'm a warrior. That thing was full of tubes, broken crystals, magical runes and copper band. I couldn't make sense of it, but Tai'Sera was quite fascinated by it.
She would ramble endlessly on what part was missing, what should connect where, and what this rune could do. She was in her element, for sure. The only thing I learned, this ship was manned by elves.
And to buy the new parts, we had to find the elves.

>>25991234
I would drop that bow, before the winds decides to plant that arrow upon your butt cheeks.

>>25991234
>a knight shooting people with a peasant's weapon while the people are producing the best medicine

Also, I think the point of the thread was a story, not a freeform RPG session.

A’course bird-lady, a’course.
Ye’all wanting a story.
Lemme think of how be thar one.

Once afore, there were a young lad. No older than a dozen and a half winters. He be son of a cobbler. You know, bird-lady, dem cobblers be making shoes like the ones on me feet? Only the cobbler was no normal folks shoemaker, oh, nay, he be fancy royal shoemaker for the King.

The King, he, he said “Yon loyal reten-retai- court-lad, thou be mercifool to thee thythey. Thy proge-desce- son, he be made Sir if he be getting a Unicorn’s hide for his Royalness Highness Feetness, that He be able to dance to a merry jig at the best of thar courts.”

Once, long ago, I was a feared man, a leader of people called the Khan. I traveled across many lands, conquering all that stood in my way, enslaving any survivors. One day, I saw one such survivor and, perhaps it was pity, perhaps it was age, perhaps it was the tome at her feet, but I decided to groom the child for command, to lead my people when I passes. Alas, ten years of training was all for naught. My people turned on me and raped my ward as she held them off for my cowardly escape to the Frozen North with only the sword given to the Khan. Now this sword is the stuff legends are made of. Forged from the strongest Dwarven steel in fires hotter than the sun, this sword can cut through many an armored opponent as if they were not wearing armor. When I arrived in the Frozen North, I met a man, who I call friend to this day. A man, who claims to be the last of his people called Bear Tribe. Together we have done many great feats of heroism, including the slaying of a dracolich that was guarding the heart of Winter itself, defeating Firdskalte, the god of sacrifice, and helping my brother in arms find the woman he loved, who passed beyond the black gates of death.

Once upon a time we had a halfling bro, who sacrificed himself and his riding tiger to drag a swarm of hellwasps away and allow us to hide in a church and live.

We later squandered this sacrifice by getting murdered by a giant indestructible scorpion because our GM did not really understand how to balance CR against the party you actually had rather than the party the book hopes you have.

The end.

>>25990991
Gamdelf didn't die either, he even had a chance to stop buy the walmart on top of mount doom during the winter for camouflage.

>>25991256
Now, the elves ain't bad. But they are quite reclusive in nature, and somewhat hard to dealt with. It didn't help that our group had a harpy and ol' dwarven me. They tend to keep their settlements secret. Wander too close to their cities, and you're asking for trouble. But they're kind enough to warn you beforehand, and we counted on it.
So we travelled into the great wyrmwoods forest. Trees as far as the eye could see, and only a slight breeze to be found. We had our own scout, and we weren't getting lost, no sir. Soon enough, there's this fancy elf telling us to go back. And gruffily enough, I tell him we came to trade, and trade outside if needed be.

Tha boy, he be a hunter. Keen eye like water-fowl, and mind so sharp it can cut Old Jess knickers, haw, he once shot down a bir- eh, kind bird-lady, Serah, he ain’t shot down your kind none, you be not worry. So he had his bow and his arrows and his cloak and he be going to see the local witch, looking for the whereaboot of the horned horsie.
The Saints be smiling on him thar day, for the witch’s ahome. Paying fer information in blood, and some other things, the crone’s be a wanting one, however, thar be thar twist.
See, they U-nee-korn, they be slippery bastard. To catch them, you be needing something special as bait. See, you need girls, and not just any girl- Virgin.

>>25991380
We hiked back to the nearby human village, where the elves said they would meet. Such was their customs for dealing with outsiders. It was a cozy little village, see, far from most civilization. It had its fair share of trouble, but it was relatively peaceful. There wasn't any orc bands or goblin raids in a long time, and the proximity of the woods just made surviving winter far easier.
The elves came with donkeys packed full of strange minerals, magical scrolls, silvery wood, and trinklets. We could afford these, but not the large and shiny crystals they claimed to be the very heart of the technology. The only way we could get enough money quickly was searching for the fabled treasure of Perdo Aurum. But that is a story for another time, for I am getting quite hungry and must be on my way.

>>25990953
Damn it, can't I just give you gold, or supplies, or do some little quest for you like every OTHER toll booth in the kingdom? No?
Alright, let me come back tomorrow with a Bard.

>>25991581
But anon, this doesn't seem like your average sex-crazed monstergirl.

What possible help can a bard be?

Does back-story count? It didn't actually happen in the game, but it's a character thing.

>>25992018
It does. You need to tell a story.

How does the harpy put on a top for her chest when she doesn't have hands?

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>>25992331

is greentext allowed?

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>>25992331
With her hands.

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>>25992377
Why wouldn't it be?

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>>25992331
With her hands, of course.
Posting harpies and kestrels is also acceptable.

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you know you want to adopt this girl

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>>25992547
Cheese and crackers, that is adorable.

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>>25992579
when she's ten she can even get a job delivering newspapers

Are you a Gamayun or Alkonost?

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>>25991274
>bows
>a peasants weapon

Harpie, this is how it's gonna go:

I'm going to walk past you. You're going to let me. You try to stop me, and you're in melee distance. You don't want that happening. You try dropping crap on me, and I promise you I will personally hire a cadre of wizards to wipe your feathery ass off the face of the planet.

I'll buy you a fairy tale book if you're willing to stick around 'til the next town. Otherwise, piss off a bard next time.

>>25992403
>>25992507

The harpy in OP doesn't seem to have hands though. How did she put on her top?

>>25992711
They might be under/behind her wings where we can't see them.

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>>25992711

>>25992711

I'm sure shes quite flexible. She must use her talons.

>>25992753
>>25992765

I'd like to see how she does that. She should take it off and I'll make notes.

>>25992772
>Sorry could you do it again, I got distracted

>>25992688
If you want to be a smartypants asshat I'll just drop a damn curse of the winds on your poopy face. Have fun walking to town without a damn breeze to refresh you on the way. Believe me, you'll notice it. Otherwise sit down and tell me your stories.

>>25991553
There is more to this tale, right?

>>25991034
No, instead she will just kill you if you dont follow her petty rules.

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>>25990953
So, you want to hear another story, eh?

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>>25990953
Phew, ok, well get comfortable.

Once I get her some clothes, of course I would. It wouldn't be good if the villagers started talking about my immorality.

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>>25990953

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>>25992878

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>>25992888

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>>25992898

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>>25992903

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>>25992907

>>25992853
Of course. One moment!

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>>25992910

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>>25992917
And there you have it, harpy. Now may I pass?

>>25992916
The fabled treasure of Perdo Aurum. Legends said it was hidden in the Great Sea. The Inari Bard knew better, however. See, our party had this strange oriental girl full of tales of a distant land. One of these tales was a large treasure lost in the eastern sea. We had to get past the spine of the world first. Said spine is a large chain of mountains that seperate the empire from the dead lands, and the orient. Now I don't mind the cold. But our sorceress hated it so much she had to break speciality to research a special warmth spell. That spell took days to research. We were getting hungry. We weren't the only ones. We got ambushed by those damn yetis while we took refuge in a cave, and they smelled worst than a dirty harpy on a ruth, no offense. They were huge! Huge! But I held my ground, the Inari played her twerky little flute, and our rogue distracted the biggest one while we cut down the first. We survived, but just barely. Without healers, we drank all our potions that night.

There once was a farmer who only had an son, the boy was frail and had terrible health, to tired to work. His name was Jim, and small was he too, so they called him Little Jim.

At home there was little both to bite and break, so his father went out to the village and tried to have him hired as shepherd or errand boy. But no one wanted his boy before he talked to the sheriff, he would take him, for he he just fired his errand boy, and no one wanted him because he was known to be greedy. It was better then nothing, thought the farmer, he got the food then, for the sheriff he would have to work for his food, money and clothes where never discussed. But after the boy had been there for three years, he wanted to travel, and then the sheriff gave him his wages at once. He would get a shilling per year, less could it not be, said the sheriff, so the boy got three shilling in total.

Little Jim probably thought it was big money, for he had never owned so much, but he asked if he should not have any more.

"You've got more then you should have," said the sheriff.

"Should I not have something to wear then?" said Little Jim. "What I had when I came, I've worn into shreds, and I have not got anything left," when he saw how tattered his rags hung onto him, he said.

"When you've gotten what we've agreed on, onto the three shillings, I have no more to you," said the sheriff. But he would then be allowed to go into the kitchen and get some good into his knapsack, and so he set off to town and was buying clothes. He was both cheerful and happy, for he had never seen a shilling before, and just as it was, he had to check that he had all three.

When he had gone far and farther than far, he entered a narrow valley with high mountains on all sides, so he did not think there was any way to come forward, he began to wonder what could be in that side of the mountains, and how he would get over them.

>>25992955
We arrived in the oriental port city called Amatsaku. The orient was a strange place, with trees of what they call ember blossoms, plenty of elves and fox mens and bird mens and whats not. No dwarves around either, so we got plenty of weird look.
We spent the day trying to gather hints toward the lost treasure. The only thing we could gather was a floating island named Tātoruairando. The bard translated it simply: Turtle Island. We rented a boat,a map, a captain, and despite being horrible at profession: sailor, eventually found our way.

I got sea sick the whole trip.

>>25993025
Turtle Island was our tomb. The surface was infested by large dragonflies, worms, rabbits, and the spare turtle. But inside the dungeon, we were assaulted was I could only describe as elemental ninja turtles.

Elemental. Ninja. Mutant. Turtles.
Ambushing us at every corner.
We lost our bard that day. We decided to retreat and try again another day when we would be stronger. And of course, that is a story for another day.

>>25992990
But he had to get up, and so he set off, he could do little, and had to rest every now and again, and then counted how much money he had. When he came up to the highest, there was nothing but a great plain overgrown with moss where he sat down and were going to see if he still had his shillings, and before he knew it, there came to him a poor man, he was so large and tall the boy began to scream, as he correctly saw how large and tall he was.

"Be not afraid," said the poor man, "I do you no harm, I'm asking for a shilling in the name of God!"

"Carry me," the boy said. "I have only three shillings, and them I was to go to town and buy clothes with," he said.

"It is worse for me than for you," said the poor man. "I have no shilling, and I'm even more ragged than you."

"Well, then you'll get it then," said the boy.

When some time had passed, he got tired and sat down to rest. When he looked up there was a poor man there again, but he was much bigger and uglier then the first one, and when the lad saw how ugly and long he was, he bagan to scream.

"Be not afraid of me, I do you no harm, I'm asking for a shilling in the name of God," said the poor man.

"Carry me then," said the boy, "I have only two shillings, and them I was to go to town and buy clothes with, I have met you before, so -."

"It is worse for me than for you," said the poor man, "I have no shillings, but a bigger body and less clothing."

"Well, then you'll get it then," said the boy.

Then be walked till he was tired, and sat down to rest, and when he has just sat down, there came to him a poor man again, but he was so big and ugly and long, the boy looked straight up and way up until he looked to the heavens, and when he correctly saw how ugly and ragged he was, he began to scream.

"Be not afraid of me, my boy," said the man, "I do you no harm, for I am only a poor man asking for a shilling in the name of God."

>>25993119
"Carry me then," said Little Jim, "I have only a shilling left, and I'm going to town to buy clothes, I have met you before so -."

"Yes, I have no shilling I and a larger body and less clothing, so it is worse for me than for you," said the poor man.

"So did he got the shilling then," said Little Jim, there was nothing to help for it, and then each of then had one and he had none.

"Yes, since you have such a good heart, and given away all that you had," said the poor man, "I'll give you a wish for every shilling." -It was the same poor man who had received all three of them, he had only changed each time, so the boy could not recognize him.

"I've always had such a longing to hear a fiddle, and see that people were so merry and glad that they danced," said the boy, "Then - do I want what I want, I want to wish me a fiddle, which is so that everything that has life, must dance to it," he said.

"That he would get, but it was a weak wish," said the poor man, "You must wish better for the other shillings."

"I've always had such a love for hunting and shooting," said little Jim, "Then I want what I want, then I will wish for a gun, that hits everything I am at, if it isnt too far gone."

"That he would get, but it was a weak wish," said the poor man, "You must wish better for the last shilling."

"I've always had a longing to be together with people who were kind and good," said Little Jim, "I got what I want, I would have it so that no one can deny me the first thing I ask."

"That wish was not so weak," said the poor man, and then he ran into the hills and disappeared, and the boy lay down to sleep, and the next day he came down from the mountains with his fiddle and his gun.

>>25993234
>>25993119
>>25992990
Did you write this or is this from a book?

>>25990953
THERE WAS ONCE A FEATHERED SLUT.
ON A TREE.
SO I DRANK A CUP OF VODKA AND PLAYED "LET'S SEE HOW MUCH OF A TREE CAN A FEATHERED SLUT SHOVE UP HER FUCKHOLES BEFORE DYING" WITH THE FEATHERED SLUT ON A TREE.
NOW LET ME PASS YOU DICK CUNT.

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>>25990953
Tell me woman, are there no Harpy men for you to bother?

>>25995597
You sir, are shit, dumb, and dead. Your remains will never be found, and you will not be missed.
>>25995701
No, there are no such thing as harpy men. If you need to ask how we can breed, its actually simple - we kidnap 'em all.

Wunce dere wuz a stoopid birdie git muckin' about in a leafy fing, den I krumped 'er!

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>>25995825
>Your remains will never be found, and you will not be missed.
On that note what are Harpy preferred fighting styles?

>>25995965
Legit, bestial harpies are probably swooping, strafing types. Hit and run and that sort.

Weeaboo monster girl crap? No idea. Probably something retarded.

>>25996014
>Weeaboo monster girl crap?
Something involving ripping off trousers and suckin dicks as fast as possible because thats how monstergirls work in Japan.

>>25995965
They use their singing ability to calm down opponents, then swoop down for the kill.

>>25990953
Once there was a Spirit-Sighted wanderer, who made his living solving unrest between the spirits and the living. His patron was the daughter of a nobleman, who requested that he purify the family shrine once per season because of the legendary relics that were supposedly stored there.

The lord of the neighboring state, however, coveted the shrine's contents, for among them it was said there were two legendary weapons blessed by the Celestial Court. And so one autumn, when the wanderer returned to his home town, he found it besieged.

He immediately made his way to the shrine, using his talents to clear the way of soldiers, arriving just ahead of the lord and his retinue to find his wealthy patron releasing the seals on the reliquary. Within there were many beautiful things, but two that caught his eye: the weapons in question, a pair of spears, crossed behind a small altar. There was no mistaking that they were indeed touched by something not of the mortal world.

And so the wanderer and the nobleman's daughter took them, and fled from the burning city. And they are still fleeing to this day.

>>25996054

That's how they work on /tg/ too.

>>25996108
I think the 3.5 monster manual also had something about luring people off cliffs

>>25995965
>what are Harpy preferred fighting styles?
they drop turtles on your head

Once upon a time there was an antiquarian and a little girl called Marcy...

>>25990953
After the end of the world there a remained a farm untouched by the horrors of the war in the farthest reaches of the southern continent.
It was there that two siblings lived, the youngest a beautiful girl who only wanted to help others and her older brother a man who had lost everything but her and wanted nothing more then to keep her safe.
The two lived ,for some time, a prosperous if isolated life. The food was plentiful and the water clear. But then the raiders came.
They demanded the food, they demanded the girl and they threatened to burn everything the had. Their entire world.
So in the middle of the night, as they slept, the brother killed them to the last man, cutting off their heads and branding them with the sigil of the Calavera before mounting them on pikes to ward off all others.
But more and more came, and the brother without fail fought them off, growing more and more brutal in his methods until corpses littered the ground for miles on end. A warning to all that only death awaited them there
The girl, the kindhearted girl was stuck there in the graveyard. Her brother having become as monstrous as the men who attacked them his voice, eyes and soul having darkned only thinking of how the next ones would die.
She couldn't live with it. And she died fearing her brother who given his soul to keep her safe.
He wanders now, no end in sight. To try to do it right the second time and one day rejoin his sister as he was before it all ended.

>>25996642
They were fucking each other weren't they.

>>25990953
Can't we just have sex?

I shall stay awhile, if you'll listen.

I was once a freehand for a group of smugglers sailing out of the Noverian Sea. We could get anything for you within reason: Slaves, Weapons, Illicit products. Now, the Noverian Sea is known for its dreaded cretures of the deep, Westernesse Patrols go missing all the time, you'll find stamped cargo and other salvage all along its coasts. We get a order for some illegal publications for some small monastery on the coast of Farssa , you know books with dirty pictures in them, Old God manuscripts, Elven wine recipes and the like.

We got paid really well for it too, seems like the Monks had a tired life of following the rules and wanted to party for once, we obliged even threw in some Half-Orc whores for an added bonus, figured the old men needed a jolt to the spirit if you know what I mean.

We are about three days journey to the coast when this god damn black ship appears out of nowhere, like a goddamn ghost it was. Our intelligent Captain decides to put boots to the sails and give her. Figured a ship like that must have heavy armaments and a crew that wasn't blotto three cycles of the day.

We make it about a day before our landing, all the while that damned ship was following us. No flags, no warning shots, nothing. Just kept following us. Captain loses his patience and orders us on the double to prepare for battle.

Our gunners load roundshot into the 8 broadside cannons we got and we feel the ship lurch, the ladies hide in the Captains' quarters and our goods are held in the emergency lifeboat. I grab a musket and head for that lifeboat, figured I might as well be ready to get out while the gettings good. Hell if Im fighting some goddamn ghost ship.

Lo, in yonder days, there once was a man, John twas his name, a simple man was he.

In those ancient days, he didst come across a young harpy, ever had she flown free, soaring the skies as a kite sans string, choosing to do what her airy heart drifted to.

"Hello, young harpy," John called, "it is I, John."

The young harpy didst alight on a tree branch, what an exciting day she had, flying and wheeling, diving and twirling, but to top it off she met a creature that called itself John. She nestled herself upon a branch in a warm wood, a beautiful place, above an olde trail, whenst all manner of beings came and went.

But rarely had one deigned to call out to her, rarely had one stopped. For she was a harpy, and they were not, and that twas not looked well upon. But lo, John spoke unto her.

"Young Harpy, mightst I ask of you a query?"

The Young Harpy quavered and quivered, before deciding that her wings would surely whisk her away should this prove to be troublesome. "Yes, John, you may," spoke the Young Harpy with a smile.

"Which way is it to the Field of War? I must meet my brothers to save the world from the gathering darkness that harkens in the west!" John called out to the Young Harpy, he believed she knew the way, as she seemed to guard the trail.

"I know not these Fields of War, if you could perhaps tell me of them, I might recall further. John, tell me a story of them," the Young Harpy replied earnestly.

So John, a simple man, related a story of his brother going off to a war, and not returning, then his sister, then his father, gone to find his missing kin. His mother pleaded day and not, no John don't go, thou shalt surley perish as thine brother, and sister, and father. John said nay, I must, for they are my family, and would entreat me the same.

The Young Harpy became sad for John, because one of the few that had stopped had been his brother, and his sister, and his father.
1/2

>>25998624
John's brother asked the way to the Field of War, and she showed him, John's sister asked after her brother, and then John's father asked after John's brother and sister.

"They have all three went to the Field of War, John, I do not want you to go, I fear you shall not return either." The Young Harpy said sadly, looking down upon John, that simple man.

"I must, for I love my brother, and my sister, and my father. I could not abandon them to loneliness on the Fields of War. But I shall make you a Promise Young Harpy for you have been most benevolent and kind to me." John spoke up, the Young Harpy listened, " When you have heard a thousand tales, of a thousand different places, I shall return with my brother, my sister, and my father. We will come and see you, and thank you for reuniting our family. You have done us too kind a favor, and we shall return it, for you seem to be lonely so far above. You can come home with us, and join our family!"

The Young Harpy smiled, long had she wanted a family, people to love and cherish, not beings that would pass on by on a road far below. "Yes, John, I will ask tales, a thousand tales of a thousand places, and I will wait for you here. You have made me a promise, and I promise to wait here for you if it takes ten thousand tales for you to return."

John smiled, and the Young Harpy smiled, so filled with joy she was that she took off into the sky, twiriling and soaring as never before, joy lifting her wings with new vigor.

When the Young Harpy alighted once again on her branch above the road, John had gone, further west to the Fields of War, seaching for his brother, his sister, and his father.

But the Young Harpy would keep her Promise, she knew her friend John would too, and so every passerby she asked, a tale for her to travel on.

Thus ends the tale of John and the Young Harpy, she waits this day, with her Eternal Youth, waiting for the simple Mortals to return to her and take her home.

2/2

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>>25998632
John's not coming back...is he.

>>25998624
>>25998632
8.1/10

I liked it, I noticed two editting errors though, the first mention of John's family is brothers, plural, you could change it to kin/bretheren.

The second is you mention a "gathering darkness in the west" but it suddenly becomes about John just trying to find his brother, sister, and father instead of save the world with them.

Still pretty good, also, this is really meta, what if you told the harpy that story, it would be better if a group of 4 strangers coming from the west saw the harpy, she asked them for a tale, and they gave her that one.

Then said something about how the 4 were John, his brother, his sister, and his father on their way home, and they want the harpy to come with them.

Oh a storytime thread eh? Then let me tell you the tale of a city in Antedeluvia.

In the desert country of Dene, once a magical superpower before some reality breaking shit and subsequent genocide of mages and mass starvation, there was a port city named Caowai. This city had seen some better days but was one of the wealthier locations in Dene at this time. To the west there was a large museum, practically a palace built ages ago and tended by a rather eccentric old man. In his employ was a half-elf who quietly tended to the various exhibits and library in exchange for living quarters in the loft. His name was Braith, and was hiding out after some sticky business with a previous employer who'd left town and nation.

Then one day a macabre sight appeared on the museum's front step. The skeletons of men, held together with naught but their ligaments, hung from a willow tree and a message written in blood. The police arrived on scene and quickly became befuddled but going through the paces. The museum curator however began gathering a force of his own to investigate. His employee, Braith, a goblin private detective named Jacque, a wandering scholar named Seyden, an educated man named Padoc, and the just-so-happening to be walking by sauroid inventor Zivo. Brought into his office they were tasked with investigating whodunit and whydunit. So, they mosied out the front door to the scene of the crime.

The police were none too happy about amateurs on their crime scene but it was museum property and the curator was a hassle to talk to. They were permitted to take a look, noting the state in which the skeletons were hanging completely bare, the odd weapons thrown on the ground beneath them, and of course the message in blood. Unfortunately the message was not in a language they could read, until the tiny lizard man started paying attention and translated it flawlessly.

That's when the chief of police arrived, a Mr. Gaston.

Gruk tell poem instead. Elves say orcs not good at poemetry, but Gruk have gift of words.

Elves am stupid in the head.
Also smell better when they dead.

>>25999594
You see, Gaston was pretty bright. It's how he made it to head of chief of police. And he noted that the locally famous employee of Austric industrialist was reading a language few around spoke flawlessly, had access to quite a few chemical agents and surgical skill needed to remove flesh from bone, and was at the scene of the crime. A few things fit together and he'd call Zivo suspect A in an otherwise dead end case.

Walking up, he asked Zivo to translate that again for him, make him a copy of it. Zivo of course did for the police chief and when the paper was handed over it was checked against one Gaston already had, a linguist's translation the police had gotten made earlier. They matched and that was good enough for Gaston to order an arrest made for further questioning of Zivo.

Now, this was almost the start of a very literal powder keg. While Zivo was a genius inventor, he was also completely unpredictable. He had several sticks of dynamite stashed in his coat, which he would never leave home without in fear of ruffians and particularly large dogs as Zivo was not exactly a tall sauroid.

It was Jacque's intervention that kept the local city block from being utterly annihilated. His work with Gaston before led to a begrudging recognition and gave him some moments to convince Zivo to go along, quietly for now as he had nothing to hide..Besides the dynamite, of course.

So with Zivo taken away by the rogers to a local prison. The rest of the group shrugged their shoulders that their acquaintance would be taken for questioning and set about searching for some answers related to the weaponry found at the scene. A couple were taken, some more crude than others. A few in particular were extremely well made, engraved and adorned. They made their way to the Blades District, a local open-air market of sorts. The district was dominated by the local temple of the Brotherhood of Wings. A grand coliseum.

>>25999816
The good scholar, Seyden pointed the way to a well appointed tent hidden amongst the other shops. The large troglodyte bodyguard watched them and the wares closely as the coal black elf at the rear asked them their business. At this store of Zanzibar's they were not his usual clientele, he dealt in very expensive items. The weapons presented were quite familiar to him however, they were of Nisahari make, a once very large empire and rival to Dene before they were both obliterated by a glassing of the Nisahari by unknown means and the subsequent war because it was probably their magic empire neighbors.

Most of the weapons were low grade, but the two fine curved swords were clearly once an officer's. There might have been more Zanzibar knew but his advice was as expensive as his wares, with Jacque's dealing gold coins to the man. They soon turn and left the shop, both parties suspicious but without more words to say to each other.

However they did learn something of import, that a group of Nisahari soldiers were the previous owners of those blades. They probably came in on a recent ship, Nisahari soldiers are an uncommon sight in the city after all. So to the port they went, to visit the port authority and crawl some waterfront taverns for information and lunch.

The port authority was as much as the rest of Caowai, corrupt on some level. With some words and then some more of Jacque's gold the group took a look at recent comings and goings, narrowing down ships recently from the Nisahari South Colony. Then to the taverns, where after buying some lunch and a coin or two passed along to the proprietor they discovered that a few fellows had come off the Silver Dawn and ordered plum wine and generally been acting like Nisahari folks. Ship narrowed down to one. Also the egg sandwich was delicious.

Anyways, with a bit of detective work done, they figured they should check on Zivo. So to the station they went.

>>26000077
At the station, Jacque attempted some flirting with the secretary, which despite him being literally the ugliest thing any of us had seen, got a pretty decent response. Then we proceeded to move towards the stairs and into the cell blocks. Then we were told that we shouldn't be there. We laughed it off, explained we were going to see an associate and see how he's been. Then the guard got pretty adamant that we shouldn't be here. That's when Seyden grabbed the guard's shoulder, caught her eye, and did some martial arts death grip which incapacitated her. This was followed by spiders as she yelled for help. A lot of spiders. Jesus christ so many spiders.

We fucking booked it from the spiders, following yelling and commotion and mostly the way forward away from a crushing tide of spiders. We soon walked in on Gaston and a few of his officers clustered around a cell where Zivo was both being held hostage, singing in draconic like a wailing banshee, and threatening to stab the living christ out of a man. Most of us didn't get the last part since it was intermixed with the draconic singing and honestly we couldn't tell it apart. He's an excellent tinkerer, not a good singer. Anyways the officers turn on us and yell we shouldn't be here. Then the spiders get here. They grab their guns and begin shooting. Most of the group ducks and covers, Zivo attempts to whack his captor which allows Gaston to hit the man and move Zivo to another cell. Braith however gets shot in the jaw and begins screaming as half of his jaw is now fucking gone and spiders are crawling all over the wound.

After some more shots the spiders flee and the guards toss the group in cells to figure what the fuck just happened. Braith was taken to the morgue, where the closest thing they had to a doctor was the man doing autopsies.

>>26000199
Now a thing about Braith. You can say what you like about pansy elves and he'd probably agree with you. Half-elves ain't much different really. A bit rounder in the jaw and a bit shorter but most people couldn't tell them apart. Anyways, he was an exceptional elf in that he could take a hit. Half his jaw was missing and he hadn't succumbed to shock yet and passed out. Some of this was no doubt due to his years of living as a hermit until but a few months ago in the middle of a horrid desert which had built up an immense mind over matter reflex.

Whatever the case was, it was extremely unnerving for his to-be surgeon. So they gave him a shot of whiskey and splashed the wound at the same time before going in with a saw and cutting the remainder of the jutting flesh and bone away before sewing up the flesh and leaving him rivaling Jacque as 'most hideous person around.'

However the surgery was done and Braith was still conscious, and mostly still screaming. After he yelled himself hoarse and rested for a bit he did not take the doctor's orders for rest and got up and went to see his compatriots.

First stop was Gaston's office, where there was a lot of, 'What the fuck were you guys doing?' Followed by some, 'Still relearning how to talk here, give me a moment. Also spiders.' before releasing him to his cell.

The others had already gone through the interview process and were awaiting release. A guard watched over them with a firehose while another was getting jabbered at by Zivo and looking mildly angry. Padoc filled him in on the events that had occurred. Before they arrived, Zivo had apparently attempted a prison riot after asking for a fruit cup. He nearly got one too until one of the larger offenders grabbed him and made it into a hostage situation. Zivo and Padoc began singing in draconic, neither was very good. Then they were out; Zivo having poked the lock open while at the bars yelling at one of the guards and Padoc who used a nail and got lucky.

>>26000358
Now Seyden, Jacque, and Braith just sat in their cells watching at this point because seriously, what the hell. The one armed with a firehose brought it up and fired, only to be rewarded with a light dribble. Later investigation showed the hose having been chewed through by a rat earlier down the line. Anyways, it turned out that it wasn't needed as one previously angry, no disappointed guard beat the snot out of a very short lizard and a man who'd rather read in the dark than drink at a pub.

Beaten down again, some Nisahari folks came in with Gaston. Seyden had a sudden horrific seizure in which the guards thought was suspicious at first, another 'fruit cup' ploy as Zivo had tried seizures as well during his failed uprising but soon realized that no, he was actually having a seizure. The Nisahari however didn't give a shit and started rolling dice in front of everyone and declaring us free of the crime. From there we assumed that these Nisahari were probably witch hunters. If they were here so quickly than that probably meant that the Nisahari who were killed were witch hunters, and witch hunters being the guys who enforced the mage genocide after the war with Dene.

Soon enough the entire group got released, most with court summons and fines. A few just paid off the fines to get rid of the court cases and Braith sat down with Gaston again to pay the rest of the group's off because for some reason the hermit had more money than the rest of the group. He also cut a deal on his own case for half the fine and something involving a pangolin.

With the group back together they decided to check out their two new leads. Zivo had found out in his time with Gaston that there was another factor in his being brought in for questioning. His residence had another message in blood three stories tall written on it. Also Zivo lived in a clocktower/workshop because of course he did.

First they hit up the docks again and looked for the Silver Dawn.

>>25994873
this is a rough translation, as the language and way of writing is old, like 150 years old, and my language changed much in between then and now.
Stopped for there was no intrest... maybe another thread, still need to finish the translation

>>26000574
This required another visit to the port authority and a few more coins moving to someone's pockets because no one remembered to write down the relevant information the first time. What we found there was that the Silver Dawn had pulled out that morning while we were stuck in prison. Tough luck. So, lunch at the tavern again for some quality sandwiches and then onwards to Zivo's place.

A few police officers were milling about, clearly having no idea what to do about this goddamn huge message written in blood on a city landmark. We passed them without trouble and headed up to Zivo's workshop and what would become more or less our base of operations. We decided to check to see how someone might have drawn the blood on the building in night without being seen. This ended up with every weakling in the group lining up with a big rope and having Zivo dangle from it while he checked out the building's sides. Luckily he only swung into the wall once. What he found was another message hidden away, clearly one meant for someone else besides the big huge message we deduced probably for instilling panic in the city. Also discovered were claw marks. Zivo figured someone must have invented a claw hook climbing device of some sort to allow them to scale the walls so easily. Also a sample of the blood showed it had some really weird particles in it, we had a look at it but none of us were really biologists so we weren't sure what we were looking for. Seyden took the samples and sought about for someone who might give better insight, finding a clerical doctor who he'd ask to take a look at them next time he was in his office. So the group got stuck and decided to ask the police for help, maybe they caught something they didn't.

So more gobling/secretary flirting and Jacque talking to Gaston while everyone awkwardly stood by. Zivo and Braith got a bit antsy and decided to check out the bounty board to see if there wasn't anything they could find that might be related.

>>25992711
It's not a top, it's a bag attached to her neck via rope.

>>26000721
There were some interesting things posted, a Carmen Sandiego master theif somewhere. An airship bomber terrorist, some ruffians, and some local home grown skipped on bail or murder/raped some lady. Zivo got real excited about the idea of airship bomber Captain Chit but Braith talked him out of it, way out of their league. They decided on a serial rapist who'd been on the lam and the police didn't have the resources to search him out. Criminal element might turn up something so we went off to where he was last seen. No one in the slums was very helpful and Braith talked Zivo out of unabashed breaking and entering in public to see if a watering hole didn't offer better prospects.

So a half-elf and a sauroid walk into a bar...
Seriously though we were an odd sight. The working man don't much like elves so Braith caught some shit, eventually getting a drink in him and confiding his distaste of other elves as a half-elf. The holier than thou attitude and treating him as nonexistent due to racial taboos. Then he got into a drinking contest and easily drank the other man under the table in which Zivo bet on. With the winnings the bar was treated to a few rounds on them. With the group now sufficiently drunk we found one man who clearly knew something about our target and we decided to follow him.

Then Zivo started dancing and everyone blacked out. Braith found himself wake up in an upturned orange crate while Zivo became the first drunk driver in history after taking his homemade mini-motorcycle home and narrowly missing at least a dozen pedestrians. Did I mention the motorcycle? It's pretty great, the 'Zivo-mobile.' It even had a sidecar that Braith squished himself into being a skinny twig.

Anyways, with the guy gone and nothing to follow everyone turned up at Zivo's house again. Braith seemed pretty alright but Zivo had a pretty good hangover. The rest of the group had been slightly more productive. Our employer, the curator of the museum, had died.

>>26000910
Seems he had an aneurysm of some sort. Died quickly and the police were headed over to check it out. In the meantime his niece, one Minerva, who'd arrived just the day before to visit her uncle was at the museum seeming very uncaring at her late uncle's passing. The group gathered and visited this very refined woman who wore a tattoo like an iron crown, constantly swirling a drink of some sort and her dead uncle laid up on a nearby table because no one had picked it up to take to the morgue yet. Suspicious yes, very much so. There was also the rest of the Nisahari weapons gathered up that we hadn't taken with us to Zanzibar to get checked out and formed into a metal symbol of wings, a clear indication of the Brotherhood of Wings. Apparently the last act of the late curator before his aneurysm.

When talking with Minerva she apparently barely knew her uncle, coming to visit him for the first time and he ends up death before she can even say hello. How rude. She also hands a book she found apparently for us from her uncle. Inside it was the same language as the messages but coded. Zivo could crack it but it'd take some time. We thanked Minerva for her time and briskly walked out, even the goblin creeped out a bit.

So on the way out we checked the scene again. Braith noticed that a willow really shouldn't support that kind of weight and began poking around the tree. A few of the limbs wouldn't give. This being incredibly odd, Zivo got out his swiss army shovel/axe/pick/grappling hook/knife/etc. and sawed that tree limb off. The inside was a solid, rigid substance not unlike hardened rubber. Weird as hell. Braith remembered something from a showpiece exhibit on druids found in the museum. It didn't have much but it mentioned some sort of connection to the living so the group went back into the museum and looked through the archives.

Finding not a whole lot we went to go below, knowing there to be more beneath the museum set about looking for some way down.

>>26001119
Of course we get about doing this and Minerva shows up and asks us, very politely, not to. Taking this as a sign that Minerva really knew more than she was saying, they promptly went back to Zivo's place because she scared the shit out of them.

Up high in Zivo's place they began deciphering the book and trying to figure out what some of our clues meant. That's when Braith had a bright idea. Get a blood hound and see if we couldn't follow the scent of the three story message written outside. So Seyden's samples (which he hadn't taken to the cleric/doctor's because he'd forgotten and would never remember to take again) were brought before Jacque's dog. What a nice dog, catches the scent and we're off.

Oh yeah and Zivo had managed to translate a bit of the book. Seems that we were up against some sort of druid/mage experimental creature. We just called them 'werepires' because we needed silver and sunlight to stop them regenerating all the time apparently.

So a quick visit to the bank, a lot of silver pieces later, and we set off again. Zivo had whipped us up some weapons earlier. A duck's foot for Jacque, an air gun for Seyden, and a shotgun for Braith because he had a bow that wouldn't fit in his backpack and was deathly scared of being noticed by the witch hunter patrols now in town searching as the Nisahari fleet blockaded the port until whatever they were searching for was found.

Through the slums we trekked and across town we followed the dog. Along the way Padoc got lost and separated. Led straight to a door. We waited outside with weapons ready as we sent Zivo to scale the wall and see the window inside. We got passed by some pretty terrified looking wenches who slipped into the next door over. An elderly fellow came out after that, said hello, and planted an ice pick firmly between Braith's lungs.

>>26001470
He dropped like a stone. Jacque immediately pulled the pin on a tear gas grenade and everyone cleared out. Except for Braith who was now choking on tear gas after being stabbed through the lungs with an icepick.

There was just one thing that slowed down ice pick man, a yelp of pain and a little trail of blood inflicted by a small scaled mammal in the midst of the cloud of tear gas. This was enough for Braith to at least mind over matter for a second, aim his shotgun with a big slug in it at whatever made a noise in the cloud of gas and let loose. This led to a louder yelp and then Braith dropping the gun to try and crawl down the stairs with an ice pick still through him.

Jacque and Seyden got to the roof to yell at Zivo what was happening. Turned out Zivo entered the room everyone else was standing outside and found a booby trap that he'd disarmed. With that done he'd opened the door and got a face full of tear gas. Then he ran to the next room over with the hysterical dames and exposed them to the gas. This did not help their state of mind. So Zivo yelled at them for awhile, gave up, and opened a window and climbed to the roof.

Seyden saw the man run out the front door of the building. Jacque ordered his dog to chase after him. This led to the dog biting the man and then getting similar treatment to Braith, the other icepick through it. Jacque then flipped his shit, he'd raised that dog from a puppy and went everywhere with it. There would be no mercy for this man now.

Seyden then pops off a capsule of silver dust into the things face. It breaths it in and gets pissed as hell, climbing up the roof quickly, digging its hands which were now almost like claws into the building. It soon had Seyden by a stranglehold and threatened to kill him as it interrogated Jacque. It recognized the curator of the museum when asked who sent them, got real angry about betrayal. Then it started yelling, let go of Seyden, and grabbed a tomahawk from its belt.

>>26001629
Zivo unloaded his revolver into the thing, using special explosive bullets he'd designed which barely slowed it down. It pinned him and took him off the side of a building. Furiously it slashed at him with a tomahawk till nothing of Zivo's armour remained. Then it kept going.

At this point Zivo was pretty much cut in half. He'd be dead in a minute or two. So as a final fuck you to the creature he pulled the pin on a tear gas grenade on his belt. Jacque then came down to the same level as the beast and unloaded all five shots at point blank of his duck foot into the creature. Then it fell through the building while Seyden stared down at it.

Braith, he'd managed to get the ice pick out but was still stuck in a cloud of tear gas. Stuffing the wound with his desert poncho, he began crawling towards a window for fresh air. Then he saw Zivo. Then he crawled out the window, fell down a floor to the neighboring roof, and crawled towards what remained of his drinking buddy.

Jacque dropped down through the building after the creature, quickly reloading his duck's foot with silver plated bullets and fired again at point blank. By now the creature was sizzling, its wounds healing slower and clutching at its head like something was inside it. Another volley and it was paste. Literal paste, it was consuming itself to repair itself. That's apparently why it looked like an old man, it'd been consuming itself at a rapid pace.

Whatever it was, the silver reacted poorly with the process and it couldn't operate. It was dead but at least there was one less werepire in the world.

Braith however began yelling at Seyden with what little voice he could muster, gasping for air in yet another cloud of tear gas over the rapidly dying Zivo. Seyden pulled them out of the cloud and Jacque climbed up. They were tasked with gathering Jacque's dead dog, time was of the essence Braith declared when they asked why.

>>26001786
They hauled it up with a rope and brought it over to Braith. He used the last ounce of his strength to cut into it, pulling out the intestines, liver, pancreas, and particularly the bowels. With these he forced them into the area between Zivo's separated shoulder to waist. Then they began to glow, turn to red mush. The red mush formed to bone, sinew, blood, and flesh, repairing Zivo before their eyes.

As Zivo's breath stuttered back, Braith became too weak to do much more. So with an unconscious sauroid and a half-dead half-elf they rigged up another rope to lower them to Seyden's mount while Jacque got on Zivo's motorbike.

They high-tailed it out, with Jacque being a surprisingly good driver for having never done it ever before in his life and Seyden tossed Braith in a midden as he asked before following Jacque to the clocktower.

Braith did his thing again, patching up the hole in himself, but not his jaw. He left that gaping wound unfixed, even though it was clear by now he could have done something about it.

By the time Braith walks back to the clocktower however he finds it swarming with witch hunters and Nisahari. Padoc had apparently gotten lost, found some witch hunters, and shared what he knew about the werepires with them. This brought them hammering on Zivo's door for the book. They took it and after some close negotiation, even let everyone in the clocktower (sans Braith since he hid outside and Jacque who went to visit one of his contacts) live.

Down our one major resource but having gained a potential ally the group regrouped as the Nisahari left. Deciding on their next move they were informed about a magical weapons dealer, a grave robber, and otherwise enemy of the Nisahari. If we could take care of him then we would be much rewarded. Thinking this might be a lead to our case we started looking. Unfortunately this fellow was a merchant who dealt in magical wares in the Blades District named Zanzibar.

>>26002019
By this time the Nisahari had come in force. About two weeks had passed since the outset of this investigation. The Blades District had pulled itself inwards to the Pavillion of Wings, the big coliseum, and fortified it against the invading army.

So, how the hell were they gonna get in to get a shot at Zanzibar? Well, in true Zivo fashion of course. Hot air balloon. A plan was devised where the heads of state and the temples in the city met to decide a case of action inside the Pavilion each day. Gaston chose the guards for the people of import coming and going. So Braith, Jacque, and Seyden would dress as the guards and he'd help them inside to further their investigation. Padoc and Zivo would enter from above in a hot air balloon that Zivo had to finish.

The plan was set in motion. After an interesting bit where we stood guard, listening in on the talks, we stripped ourselves and set about our disguises. Waiting for nightfall so that Zivo could be ready and try to pilot his craft, they set forward their plan. Then Jacque ran straight into Zanzibar's tent and got the surprise of his life. Zanzibar was decked out in magical armour, with a sword pointing at Jacque's face as soon as he entered. The Troglodyte bodyguard was similarly well equipped, only with gauntlets with strange orange stones in them. After some back and forth, Jacque got grabbed and a slow electrocution began by the troglodyte's gauntlets. His flesh cracked, burst into flame, and became an even more pitiful and hideous sight than normal. The interrogation went on this way and Seyden began seizing again. Braith dragged him into a nearby tent and started administering what doctoring he knew. Getting people clear of him and getting Seyden snug somewhere he wouldn't flail too hard.

Soon after Zivo and Padoc would make a hard landing in their balloon on the rim of the coliseum, the Nisahari guards watching the fortified coliseum having shot them down.

>>26002215
Hearing the commotion, Zanzibar and his bodyguard moved out of their tent. Braith heard this, whispered something to Seyden, unsure if he could hear him in this state, and ran down below the coliseum's main floor where there was a river-fed cistern.

Padoc and Zivo pulled out their rifles and took aim at the bodyguard holding Jacque. They shot him in the hand, and then through Jacque before landing a last shot on the bodyguard's helmet. They barely did any damage before their targets moved into the tent where Seyden was. Then they had their own troubles when the local militia and some Brotherhood clerics were coming for them. This time they didn't fire on them and were once again peacefully incarcerated.

Seyden was watched in a field hospital for a short time before being put with the others till this could be sorted out. Jacques was put under the supervision of the head doctor hospitaller of the Pavillion to see if he could hang onto life for long enough to go to the trial Zanzibar was demanding.

Braith however made a clean getaway and snuck down to the breweries, used some rotting mash to transform into red goop and fix his jaw. Then he began another trick, he began turning into looking like someone else. He'd hide in plain sight, no one could link him to the crime.

When their jailor came along, one Captain Wingman, he chatted with Zivo, Seyden, and Padoc for a bit. They were let out to wander the coliseum under his supervision. They met a dwarf working a forge with a koboldic fire spirit bound within. They found out it had been bound ages ago by some ancient hero. Braith had shadowed them and heard this, spending the time away from them researching the old hero and the city in general with the Pavilion's well stocked library.

Soon enough however came the trial, Zanzibar representing himself as the prosecution and Seyden had volunteered to be a lawyer for Jacque and Padoc.

>>26002426
Now at this time, Seyden was not linked to the crime in any way but proximity. No one suspected anything of him and he was pretty much free to go. Then Zivo blabbed during the trials and incriminated him as an accomplice and then promptly got himself perjured because Zivo has never said anything truthful when his hide's on the line ever.

Next goes Padoc who works with Seyden to focus on the utter torture of Jacque who is eventually wheeled in, in fully body bandages, to act as primary witness. Thankfully the good doctor's work and the recent development of skin grafts kept him alive.

Unfortunately things were still going pretty terribly, as Jacque had threatened Zanzibar and the bodyguard being an excellent witness against him. Then Seyden blew it, as the foreigner and not really getting local politics said something about working with the Nisahari. This then almost caused a riot. Nisahari agents, in the coliseum, who everyone inside was pretty sure were trying to conquer their city and kill them. They were pretty screwed. Braith however just sat in the crowd and watched.

It was just before the next day did Braith get a message. Seyden's voice spoke in his mind, communicating instructions from Padoc. Get a starchart that was left by Padoc when they were out with Wingman to the bar (a holy place for the Brotherhood). Slipping in he grabbed it and as the closing arguments were being performed that would more than likely sentence them to death, he passed the rolled up star chart to a vulture. Which then rapidly took it to where Padoc had resided in the slums, pushing aside the curtains and using various cutlery to hold the star chart out flat. With his work done he returned to the court room just in time to see Padoc give a little speech, a smile to Zanzibar, and a sphere of material where they were standing to disappear and be replaced by a small amount of sand.

This shocked everyone in the room and sent Zanzibar howling with rage about cosmomancy.

Talk about U.S. Special Forces in the Vietnam War.

You get heroism, grim darkness, and a government that refuses to acknowledge their sacrifice all in one story

>>26002613
Soon Zanzibar got a hold of himself and thought of the next step a man with a large inventory of magic items would do. Get something of theirs he could trace them through. He sent a runner to the crashed hot air balloon still on the edge of the coliseum. Unfortunately for him, a strange wind and rather weak limestone came together at just the right time to dump the hot air balloon into the reaches of the Nisahari instead.

Zanzibar spent the rest of the night howling with rage to the sky and yelling at Captain Wingman.

As for Zivo, Seyden, Padoc, and Jacque? They made it to an area near Zivo's employer. The Austric industrialist Wyatt and his industrial park beside the large oil fields that Zivo was instrumental in designing. Unfortunately, a failed raid by some of the Dene dressed like Nisahari to try and kick off a fight between the Austrics and the Nisahari led to the Austrics turtling inside their industrial park and condemning the city.

Braith was left in the coliseum, alone, and in enemy territory out for blood and no idea where the others had gone. He had only one course of action. He'd do what the others had failed at, he'd cut a deal with Zanzibar.

Unbeknownst to the rest of the group, Braith did indeed have a few magical items. He had obtained them in a previous effort halfway across the desert working for a previous employer. He entered Zanzibar's tent and they began to haggle, mostly as a distraction on Zanzibar's part until Braith didn't ask for money for his goods or a map to buried treasure or the like, he wanted information. Then it became a game, I'd say twenty questions but Zanzibar is not that generous. He was given seven, under certain conditions that they had negotiated in regards to the truthfulness of the information provided.

The hookah was brought out and Braith traded the items gathered from dead witch hunters to knowledge that the curator had traded an item of unestimable value for a spear that could hurt the divine.

>>26002785
Zanzibar figured he got off the good end of the deal, but now realizes it was a trap. The item he wouldn't state what it was, one of the rules of their little game, but was definitely the reason the Nisahari were in the city in such force.

Questions exhausted, payment was expected. Another condition of their game was Braith would be transported out of the coliseum and travel under the eye of Zanzibar's bodyguard to the goods which would be turned over. With a little cosmomancy of his own, Zanzibar sent the two outside near the museum. Glancing upwards it was hard to miss a new addition to the museum however. A gigantic airship had dropped its anchor on the museum, a great scarlet stallion emblazoned on the side of the vessel.

Within Braith gathered his items from a chest that Minerva had quite nicely put away for him (previously hidden under his bed) so they wouldn't be traced by the witch hunters. Opening a chest that blocked their magical auras from prying eyes he got them out, and noticed a spear in there. He closed the chest, gave the items to the bodyguard and remained at the museum.

After all, he had an invitation from Minerva to join her party for tea. She had an esteemed guest, one Captain Chit.

>>25990953
I'll tell you a tale that has all three. It's about a young man and a small girl only a few years old.

He almost overlooked her at first on the day he found her, alone and crying to herself in fear. He had always had very little, and often had to do deeds he was not proud of to have even that much, but she had nothing at all. No family, no friends, no worldly possessions, not even a meal in her stomach.

And so the boy, no more than a fifteen year-old whelp really, took her in. The people he knew scoffed and gossiped about it, and more than a few shunned him, but he didn't care. He had no idea how to raise a child, but he learned damn quick. He devoted his entire life to feeding her, and caring for her, and making her feel as though there was still someone in the world who loved her. Her life was threatened by many: mercenaries, the church, noble houses, assassins. He sheltered his beloved daughter from them all at risk of his life.

And my, how she grew. From the helpless child he found, she quickly became a fine young woman. But she grew restless as well, wanderlust tugging at her mind. And when she was ready, her adoptive father allowed her to spread her wings and fly. It was the proudest moment of the young man's life.

But you know that story already, don't you? And what's more there's no betrayal in it yet. And so I will tell you the part of the story you don't know. My greatest secret, and my greatest shame.

I am the one who killed your parents all those years ago, my love. And I've hated myself for taking them from you every day since. I'm sorry, best beloved. I'm so sorry.

>>26002912
It was, an uncomfortable meeting. Captain Chit refused to speak the locale dialect, communicating solely to Minerva in Nostrati. He was also possibly eight years old and at one point got a temper, armed a grenade, and Minerva sent him outside with it like a petulant child where he threw it a cat before coming back. His guards that flanked him in half gasmasks were armed with advanced weaponry, clearly guns but nothing like Braith had seen before.

The tea was enjoyable at least, even if the conversation centered around Chit's obsession with the killing of some orc; also very young and probably unaware that he had a genocidal eight year old after him with an airship known for obliterating towns.

Zivo would be thrilled if he was here now. However he was not, something Minerva would send her 'shepherd' to rectify. After tea Braith was told to visit Padoc's old house, where he encountered most of the group held up by Nisahari. Braith wasn't too sure of the specifics so he kept his distance. Then luckily Jacque came up, spoke with the Nisahari, and managed yet another miracle by convincing them to let the group live.

When they filed out, Braith inserted himself into the group out of the sight of the Nisahari. It took some convincing as they hadn't seen him change and had no idea what he looked like or even could do that. A brief relay of information later and it was deduced that the spear had been traded for a bow sent with a task force by the Nisahari which had been stolen in some way by the museum curator and his accomplices by the complete and utter murder of those witch hunters.

The bow itself was one purportedly used by the major Nisahari gods and could fight armies. No wonder they wanted it back so bad. This just raised another question, why the hell would the curator hire us to investigate his own pretty much flawless crime? Was the aneurysm actually murder?

>>26003162
At that moment all hell breaks loose. The Nisahari open fire on the city, their naval blockade firing artillery onto the city. The artillery placements in the city fired back. We ducked for cover in the sewers, making our way in the dark for awhile before coming up somewhere else.

Braith also had another message for the group from Minerva. She was hosting a party at the museum for the Dene holiday similar to Cinco de Mayo, a celebration of the day of the dead. So one hell ride later on some summoned horses (that Zivo of course managed to kill his despite Braith trying to nurse it back to health after they arrived) and Minerva was having the party set up. There was time yet before the festivities and she had some tasks for us. Seyden had to place another chart where Padoc had last had them teleported to, apparently to aid in Padoc's escape from the ziggurat of the Order of the Iron Crown. An artillery citadel on the river of the city as well as the head temple of the Order. How or why he was there, we had no idea but he needed to get out. Zivo and Jacque needed to break an innocent man out of prison that had become the target of mob violence, Chief Inspector Gaston. Finally for Braith, he was to shepherd home Padoc, waiting for him in a dingy I'd row over by the ziggurat.

I'm not sure how it went elsewhere but Gaston showed up in a later campaign and Zivo and Jacque finally enacted Plan Z, destroy a city block with dynamite, so I assume a success. Padoc then came walking out and clambered aboard, like he'd been expecting Braith. Then there was some of him talking to someone who wasn't there. Then when Braith mentioned it he started yelling about the voices again goddamnit. Leaving the subject aside they worked together to row up river as the ziggurat and Nisahari ships fired their artillery at each other, some landing in the river and narrowly missing us.

As Braith and Padoc returned they joined up with Zivo, Jacque and Seyden in the museum's entrance.

>>26003773
Within a great party took place, the music pervading even into one's mind and a gas floating in the air that altered one's senses. Everyone put on gas masks and searched for Minerva, not taking long to find her on a goddamn unicorn. She ran off, taunting them before we wandered through the party and to a balcony where she waited.

There we got witness to an intriguing party trick. How do you kill a unicorn, a beast that cannot be broken or pierced or maimed? You strangle it to death. With that Minerva led the party outside where a man waited that looked like he'd had brain surgery and was acting like a dribbling idiot. Only one person in the party recognized him, it was Braith's previous employer. A Nisahari elf named Clay. Minerva cackled with laughter as Braith ran up to him, preparing to cut open the man's skull again and insert a bag full of his red jelly ambrosia. Then Clay shot forward, revealing an actor playing his role which pissed off Braith to no end, furious that he'd do such a thing for a cheap trick.

Then a dust storm came rolling in as Chit undocked from the museum. By now a few things had clicked into place for the party. The druid they were hunting, that had done the original murders was ancient, he was the hero that bound the kobold in the Pavillion. Padoc revealed himself then to be an agent of the Arch-lich (most evil guy in the setting, a bit deranged and deluded) who set in motion pretty much a 100 year plan to cause a huge war. Zanzibar left the Nisahari bow in Captain Wingman's hands who attempted to destroy it as it was a great weapon of an enemy god's.

Of course it turns out you can't destroy a god's weapon, when he tried it split in half and the essence brought down an avatar of a Nisahari god who sought the bow. Then Chit's airship opened up and released a mechanized flea of some sort which fell to the city and burned and crushed. On it was riding an impossibly graceful and powerful man with a spear that Braith recognized.

>>26003140
So, now you have heard my story in full. You know what I have done, and you know that there is nothing I can do or say that will atone for my sin.

You've made me proud, little one. Proud that despite the miserable person I was before we met, I've done at least one good thing since then. Proud that I've taught you to be the kind of person who won't make the same mistakes as I did. But all things must end, and now that you know the truth I don't expect you'll want me as your father anymore. I fully accept it.

So, what happens to me is up to you. Kill me, and I won't hold it against you. Cut off all ties with me, and I will respect your wishes. Forgive me, and I would be thrilled to reforge our relationship into whatever it eventually becomes.

Whatever choice you make is yours alone, but whatever it is I will always support you, and I will always be proud of you.

>>26003949
Thus the campaign ended, with the city caught in a massive dust storm caught in the engulfing fire of Chit's bombardment and flea that turned the dust to cutting glass. The avatar fought the partially undead druid, and Minerva went crazy as the dead began speaking. Of course Minerva is always crazy and somehow linked to the dead, we just didn't know yet. The voices Padoc had been hearing on the rowboat were apparently also the dead and Minerva.

We're not terribly sure what Minerva is actually, we have theories but nothing comfortable. What we did learn was in the end that Seyden's move was cashing in some favours from the Arch-Lich to Padoc, conning him. Then she unlocked the bottom area of the museum and let us through into a stunning magical archive. If Zanzibar was well outfitted, then this was a factory and armoury rolled into one. Once Minerva had her sample of archeon's blood, delivered by the druid after slaying the archeon/avatar.

So that's how a camelherd hiding from the witch hunters ended up help causing world war one. The next campaign we had dealt with the fallout and either ended last sunday or the last session will be in half a day's time.

Oh yeah and Jacque, as a goblin fae was tied to the reputation and the city. When everyone died, he'd have died as well. So he sought out the druid and was transformed into a koboldic fire spirit. Zivo was offered a place on Chit's crew which he turned down because that's a bit more crazy than even he could deal with.

Everyone but Jacque went on to join Padoc and Minerva to their next location, away from the city. The follow up campaign was all new characters except the now koboldic Jacque.

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>>25996541

>>26003971
C'mon Daddy. You know fully well I deducted that out since I was six. Did I ever betray you? Never! You are my only one. I did not leave you out of hate, but as an adult.

>>26000685
Okay. It did seem as though it was from an older sort of story so that's cool.

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>>26003971
MFW

>>26011472
What does that even mean?

>>26012681

>>26003140
>But you know that story already, don't you? And what's more there's no betrayal in it yet. And so I will tell you the part of the story you don't know. My greatest secret, and my greatest shame.
>I am the one who killed your parents all those years ago, my love. And I've hated myself for taking them from you every day since. I'm sorry, best beloved. I'm so sorry.I'm sorry, best beloved. I'm so sorry.

>>26013798
I'm still not getting what Gray Fox has to do with it.

>>26014279
Not that guy but it has to do with Grey Fox's backstory.