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File: DeadGods.png (345 KB, 792x612)
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Greetings, elegan/tg/entlemen, it's time for Dead Gods 7!

When last we left Elsa, she had successfully captured a conspirator. She had him dragged to the dungeon, and is now finding out if Feathers will be awake enough to interrogate.


My twitter: @Someone_else___

Old threads: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive.html?tags=Dead%20Gods%20Quest

Resident Art credit: Eversor_

Elsa's Character Sheet: Updated! http://pastebin.com/v2Sa7Miq
>>
>>32166824

Its that time of the week again?

Good to be here SE. Let's get it on.
>>
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The hospital ward of the Royal dungeon is perhaps the biggest study in artistic contrast you’ve ever seen. Mere feet from each other are rows and rows of dark, quiet, iron-barred cages, reinforced and shock-proofed rooms for holding Mages and special Gifted, and shimmering magical sphere for holding Gifted who can walk through walls. It descends into the depths of the soil, all the way to the bedrock.

The contrast comes from the little doctor’s office on the top floor. Inside are several dozen medics and mages of the healing vocation; the walls are lined with cheerful posters and pictures of famous doctors of history. It couldn’t looks less like a prison.

Feathers is sprawled out limp on one table, oozing blood from her wrecked jaw. A doctor with a shimmer of magic in his fingers is probing her, looking for other wounds, while Douthrite and the sisters – you never did ask their last names – lounge insouciantly in the hall outside.

“She’ll recover if you wish her to, Sergeant,” the doctor says briskly, wiping the blood off his hands. “Do you wish to interrogate her? It will take about a day.”

“I took her alive, so I may as well,” you reply. “Thanks, Doctor.”

“Certainly,” he says, moving on to another patient.

Well, she won’t be able to speak for a day, and the Doctor would stop you if you just killed his patient in the middle of his ward, so…you have the night off. You have so many things to do, too!


>Dismiss the Brother/Sisters
>Go tell the King about this
>Go meet up with Jerome and Darril, acquire dinner
>Ask the doctor about that insane survivor from before
>Writein
>>
>>32166901
>Ask the doctor about that insane survivor from before
We hunger for info!
>>
>>32166901
>>Ask the doctor about that insane survivor from before

Might be valuable intel there. We can have dinner after.
>>
>>32166901
>>Ask the doctor about that insane survivor from before

We need to speak to him, we are probably the only one person here who can know the tongue of a madman.
>>
Excellent, writing now!
>>
Only hours before, you told Dietrich you would try to speak to the deranged survivor of the ambush in the woods. As long as you’re in the castle, you may as well try.

You wait for the doctor to look up before asking out of politeness. “Sir, the other survivor from my battalion. Do you know where he is?”

The doctor sighs heavily, rubbing sweat from his brow. “Ugh. Poor bastard. Yes, I do. He’s up one floor, in the castle infirmary.”

“Not the barracks infirmary?” you ask. That would have been normal protocol.

“No.” The doctor grabs some water and drinks it on his way to the table where Feathers is still tied down. “They thought the Royal Surgeon would be more successful.”

You tilt your head in gratitude and make your withdrawal. Outside, the three Brothers are chatting casually, surrounded by guards they’re completely ignoring. When Douthrite spots you, he straightens up and shoots you an impatient look. “Hey. How’d it go?”

“Dead to the world for a day or so, thanks.” You jerk a thumb over your shoulder. “Who’s got the kid?”

“He’s upstairs in the Royal infirmary, somewhere,” Caitdottir says. “He’ll be fine.”

“Didn’t it bother you that we came that close to slotting kid?” Veri asks her sister.

Caitdottir shrugs. “Sure, but we didn’t.”

“Either way, thanks for your help,” you say firmly, cutting through the rising tension. “Thanks also to Master Culler. I’ll be in touch.”

Douthrite snugs his cloak across his tattooed shoulders. “All right. Remember what I said, though. You want our blades, you pay next time.”

“Understood.” You nod at the guards, who escort the Brothers out of the dungeon and back up into the gathering night.


(con’t)
>>
You march up the stairs, through several security checkpoints, and into the main wings of the castle, where the Royal infirmary is located. The sterile halls and rooms are mostly empty, since the Royal Family are generally the only ones allowed into the area save special guests, and apparently none of those are sick.

Two rooms have guards posted, however. The first room has howling, bawling even, coming from inside, and the guards are looking distinctly uncomfortable. The second…is almost the same, except the voice sounds higher pitched.

It’s telling that you can’t immediately discern which one has the child who just watched his mother get pulverized and which has the madman.


You head up nevertheless, pausing outside the first room. The guard outside hefts his shield as you approach. “Sergeant. Something I can do for you?”

“Is this the room that has my fellow survivor from the woods attack?” you ask, peering past him into a darkened chamber with no visible windows.

“Affirmative, ma’am, but…” the guard hesitates. “He’s…quite unhinged. The experience left him broken. You’re not the first to come by, either.”

“Regardless, Corporal, I’d like to speak to him,” you say. “Dispensation from Captain-General Dietrich to try.”

You half-expect him to demand proof, but he just shrugs. “Your call.” He steps back and unbars the door.

As you step in, the first thing that hits you is the smell. Blood, sweat, shit. He’s a mess. His arms are bound behind his back by a straightjacket, and his clothes reek of the fluids he’s expelled in his throes of madness.

The poor wretch is curled up on a ball on the floor, gibbering about ‘the stones, the stones are crying,’ or something.


>Waste no time, whip out Asa’s powers!
>Try to reason with him first
>writein

(please note that this is one of those times where spelling out an answer nets you a bonus whether I use it or not!)
>>
>>32167646

>Waste no time, whip out Asa’s powers!

Take a few steps toward him, salute and say "Sergeant Elsa Ledren, Second Home Battalion, Royal Auxilia, Clen, Herald of Asa bid salute to you, Mallerd, survivor of Second Home Battalion Slaughter" - and stay in salute until he'll respond.
>>
>>32167646
>Waste no time, whip out Asa’s powers!
Might as well get everything we can instead of hoping to strike oil.
>>
>>32167646
>Try to reason with him first
>>
The optimal ability is Voice of the Divine (Asa's Speech can't pierce insanity), so if anybody wants to do a writein and hasn't yet done so, please do!
>>
>>32167959
I can't really think of a good write in for someone who's insane.
>>
Writing!

Mallerd is upstairs. This is Vaughn.
>>
Vaughn is writhing on the floor, making a noise that sounds like a dying bird, when you shut the door and spin to face him, military steel in your spine. You glare down at him and snap off words in proper Sergeant tones.

“Sergeant Elsa Ledren, Second Home Battalion, Royal Auxilia, Clen, Herald of Asa bid salute to you, Private Vaughn, survivor of Second Home Battalion! Eyes FRONT!” You pour Asa’s divine voice into your speech, as much as you can.

The sheer power of Asa’s true voice cuts through the room like a sword through water. Vaughn’s whimpers stop completely, and he spins to face you on the floor. The human locks eyes with you, shaking with…fear? Pain? Hunger, regret? All of them?

“…What?” he whispers. “What?”

“I said EYES FRONT, Vaughn!” you bark. The air quivers when you say it. You didn’t have this power when you were speaking to Deitrich, that’s for sure. Or…maybe you did, and didn’t need it? Either way, it’s working.

His shakes intensify, but he gradually rises onto his knees and rocks back on his heels in the filth. He looks into the infinite distance, whining behind his teeth. “Sergeant…the ghosts, there’s ghosts out there…”

“There’s no ghosts, man,” you say leaning in and skewering him with a glare. “Do you hear me? Asa and Vier and Haret, they won’t allow it.”

His terrified whine is barely audible over the sound of his chattering teeth. “They want my body, they want to take my flesh like they took everybody’s.”

You blink back genuine surprise. He was there when the Orb was triggered? How did he not die like everyone else?


>”What did you see? What did the ghosts do?”
>”Why didn’t they take you?”
>writein
>>
>>32168298
>”Why didn’t they take you?”
>>
>>32168298
>”Why didn’t they take you?”
Seems like the right question.
>>
Writing!
>>
“How did you survive, Private?” you ask firmly. Asa’s power is starting to leak out of your voice, and you need to capitalize while you can.

He whimpers again. “The ghosts…they just looked at what they did and started shouting…so much…they couldn’t even decide what to do with all the flesh…”

You try to process that as best you can. The Orb doesn’t take flesh, it turns it to air. So…the conspirators were arguing about what to do next? Interesting.

“Where were you?” you demand, trying to conjure up a bit more power.

It seems to work. “I…was in…” he chokes up, tears leaking down his face. “The…Corporal, he…”

“What did Dervich do?” you bark, making a guess as to whom the ‘Corporal’ was.

He topples over, crying uncontrollably. The power is gone. He’s lost to the grip of madness once more.


The guard outside gives you a sympathetic look as you trudge out of the cell. “Sorry, Sergeant, everybody’s tried that. Nobody can get discipline into him, he’s just gone. The Major thinks he knows a mage who can do something…”

“Good luck to him,” you mutter heavily. “There’s not much man left in there.”


What do you do now? You have tons of options.


>Try to get back to Jerome and his brother Derril in time for dinner
>Go talk to (someone)
>Chat with Asa about the day’s work
>>
>>32169117
crap
is it possible to try again later?

>Chat with Asa about the day’s work
while
>Trying to get back to Jerome and his brother Derril in time for dinner
>>
>is it possible to try again later?

You can, if you think there's more to learn.
>>
>>32169434
weeeell, it's not really clear if he can't give us any more info or if he just broke down at that point from the memories and insanity
I guess we can ask Asa
>>
Very well!
>>
Ballsnatch, I've called Jerome's brother two different things. Bad enough people can't even tell Mallerd and Vaughn apart.

Ah well. Writing now!
>>
The task is about as finished as can be, you realize.

It’s not easy, this investigation gig. You wander out of the castle, trying not to look too inattentive, surrounded as you are by officers who don’t know you no longer answer to them. Your feet take you in the direction of the worker’s district, where at least you’re informed of safe harbor as groups of workers eviscerate your basement. As a gap in the crowd on the streets opens up, you discreetly palm your forehead to speak with your patroness.

{My Lady?}

Her voice responds with gratifying speed, this time. [Yes? Is it over?] she asks. She almost sounds breathless.

{The battle ended, my Lady, with Feathers’ capture. And that of her son.}

[Son?]

{He got in the way of the Brothers,} you explain. {He’s young, only about four or so. Small enough to be of no threat.}

[Oh.] Silence falls after that single word.

{My Lady? Is something wrong?}

[I didn’t anticipate that,] she admits. [Where is his father?]

You shrug, which probably looks a bit odd as you walk around with your hand on your forehead. You duck into an empty alley mouth so you don’t look like an idiot. {We didn’t see one.}

[Unfortunate. He is cared for, this child?]

{As well as we could,} you say with vague annoyance. Isn’t the success of your mission worth anything?

Asa seems to detect your ire. [Why did you decide not to kill her?] she asks.


> “She was already down, I didn’t feel the need.”
> “She needs to suffer.”
> “Her kid was right there.”
> “Because I want to see what she says to me before Vier takes her soul.”
>writein

(as always, bonuses for creativity!)
>>
>>32169961
>> “Her kid was right there.”

Some compassion.
>>
>>32169993
I know, right? You've passed up every other chance to demonstrate it.
>>
>>32169961
> “Her kid was right there.”
I can back up the compassion train. Someone has to be good at it on /tg/.
>>
Writing!
>>
>>32169961
“Her kid was right there.”
>>
{Well, her kid was right there,} you say defensively. {She was down and out already…}

[Interesting choice, my daughter. Even though killing her would have instantly given Vier the knowledge we needed, you spared her out of compassion. Yet you dismissed your former comrade in plain dispassion, not two days ago,] she reflects.

You shift a bit at her words. {Should I go and apologize to him?}

[I would.] Her voice goes quiet. [I trust you, Elsa. I’m sure you’ll make me proud either way.]

{Thank you.} You let your hand fall away and you rejoin the crowd, wandering towards your brother-in-law’s house.


Do you want to do anything en route?


>stop off (at this place)
>buy something for either Jerome or Darril or yourself
>writein
>timeskip to arrival
>>
>>32170754
>>stop off (at this place) at which place?
>>
>>32171122
It means stop off at a place of your choosing. A shop to buy something like was suggested a few threads back, at home to pick something up, whatever.
>>
>>32171122
>timeskip to arrival

Nothing in my mind to purchase, so :V
>>
Very well! Writing.
>>
Darril, Jerome Ledren’s brother, is a teacher, you recall. It makes the size of his house a bit unexpected, really. You have to crane your head back to look at the whole thing from outside. Then, it’s narrow; it’s still just a townhouse.

“Elsa!” a voice inside calls. You look down to see Darril gaping at you from the door. His modest beard and dark brown eyes make him look more like Jerome’s father than his older brother, you think to yourself, before you vanish in a bear hug. “I’m so glad you’re okay!” he says, stepping back a pace to look you over with his hands on your shoulders. At least they’re the same height.

You grin up at your brother-in-law. “Hey, it takes more than that to kill me!”

“I guess so!” he says, ushering you in and closing the door. “When we heard the news, we feared the worst! Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m good as new, believe me,” you reassure him. From the next room, you hear Darril’s wife, Lauren, scramble to her feet.

“Elsa!” You endure another round of bearhugs before you finally get to sit down in the kitchen. “Sweetheart, you’re alright! We were both scared witless! What happened out there?”


(con’t)
>>
You sit down with the two of them and recite the story, leaving out the divine intervention for now. After a moment’s thought, you leave out the superweapon, too, making it sound like you were just hit hard and don’t remember much. If you change your mind, you can always fill them in later.

Partway through the story, Jerome shows up, and he listens in silence as you tell the story. “So, the worst part of it was that the Mortuary Officers got to my house first,” you finish. “But we got that straightened out quick.”

Darril slowly shakes his head, staring into the grain of his wooden table. “That’s…awful. I’m so sorry you had to go through that.” He raises his eyes and peers over at you, and you’re struck by how different his personality is from Jerome’s. Where your husband is a simple sort of fellow, quiet, and keeps to himself, Darril is sharp, fast, talkative, and witty. If they didn’t look so much alike, it’d be hard to say they were related. “Jerome said something about your house being under construction?”

Your husband stirs at that. “Yeah. They’re boring out a tunnel in the basement,” he says. “Something about the old water lines.”

“Oh.” Darril snorts. “Bloody government. No offense,” he says, putting his hands up in mock defense against your Auxilia-issue glare. “So…anyone hungry?”


(con’t)
>>
“Starved, thanks,” you say, as Laura rises to cut a turkey. “I’ve been running around town like mad, getting paperwork and chores done.”

“Oh, I imagine,” Darril says sagely. “After getting declared KIA. Is that new armor?” he asks, gesturing at your enchantments.

“Nope, I got it enchanted.” You tap a finger on the newly enchanted armor and the edge shimmers slightly. “I figured it would be a good fit if I ever get sent into battle again.”

“Can’t be too careful,” he agrees.

It occurs to you, though, that you don’t have many chances like this. Darril is a civilian, and you trust him. Maybe getting his perspective on the news here wouldn’t be a bad idea.


> “So what’s been going on around here lately, anyway? How is the banditry problem?”
> “Do you know where the Firesouls in this town might be?”
> writein
>>
>>32171842
>> “So what’s been going on around here lately, anyway? How is the banditry problem?”

Start with the basics.
>>
>>32171842
>> “So what’s been going on around here lately, anyway? How is the banditry problem?”
>>
>>32171842
> “So what’s been going on around here lately, anyway? How is the banditry problem?”

Lets find out some local news, can't hurt.
>>
Writing!

Glad you could all make it, i thought i'd lost my audience for a sec there
>>
“So, citizen, how’s the banditry problem hereabouts?” you ask, your voice full of faux-sternness.

Darril groans. “Oh, Mai’te’s tears, don’t get me started. Ekrine couldn’t put a stop to a local crime wave if you handed him a thousand nightsticks.”

“That bad, huh?” you ask as you accept some ale from Laura. “Thanks.”

Laura bustles back to the turkey on the stove as Darril continues. “They’re bloody everywhere. The Army has the farms locked down, but the countryside is awash with them. I’m amazed you only saw that one group!”

The venom in his voice is surprising. “Is it that bad inside the city?” you ask.

“Well, no, not inside the walls, but it’s bad,” he admits. “Inside the walls, the biggest problem we have is that all the local leadership are either former Guild members or Army lifers with no sense of civic law.”

“Oh, they’re not so bad,” Laura shushes her husband. “Governor Ekrine just isn’t used to passing laws instead of orders.”

He waves a hand. “Fine, it’s not so bad, I just wish they’d get around to fixing it.”

The four of you fall silent as you much on turkey and bread, and for a while, you’re just a normal family. You let your eyes wander around the room and the small knickknacks on the walls and shelves. You pause when you spot the little toy wolf your youngest nephew built. “Where are the kids these days?” you ask.

Darril answers around a mouthful of turkey. “Collie and Dan are still off in the Guild, you know,” he says in reference to his daughter and son, who are both part of the Teachers’ Guild, like him. They’re in Kepple on an exchange program. “And Gilad is in town, he just has his own place now.”

Jerome shakes his head in silent amazement. He and his brother are seventeen years apart, and it’s a constant source of awe that he has a niece only two years younger than him.


(con’t)
>>
>>32171842
>“So what’s been going on around here lately, anyway? How is the banditry problem?”
>>
Abruptly, though, Darril’s face darkens. “Of course, to listen to rumor, there’s things worse than common criminals in this city.”

“Such as?” you ask.

“Like that cult,” he says darkly. “Mark my words, they’re real.”

“They’re a myth,” Laura chides, but Darril shakes his head.

“They’re real. One of my students is a part of it. Has the forehead tattoo and everything.”

…Forehead tattoo? Like yours? Well, now.

“What does this cult worship?” you ask as nonchalantly as you can contrive.

Darril snorts. “They claim they’re practicing the original doctrine of the Pantheon from before the Collapse. I say they’re star-struck idiots.”


>Ask Asa about this immediately
>Press for more information
>writein

Just post here, I'll finish the thread tomorrow. Thanks for playing.
>>
>>32172572
>>Press for more information

Learn as much as you can before turning to Asa. This is our task after all.
>>
>>32172572
>>Press for more information
>>
>>32172572
>Press for more information
Let's hear about these 'claims' of theirs.
>>
>>32172572
>Press for more information
>>
Give me a B
Give me a U
Give me a M
Give me a P
What does that spell?
Keeping this thread alive another couple of hours.
>>
Writing!
>>
“Do you know anything else about this cult?” you ask.

Darril shrugs again. “They’re in the city somewhere, merchants’ quarter. What exactly they do, I dunno, but they’re technically illegal.”

“Illegal?”

“Yeah, congregations are only allowed to practice if they pay taxes, and these guys are covert, so…I dunno, I’m no lawyer.” Darril rips off a chunk of bread as your mind churns on this new information. There’s still active practitioners of the religioin you now physically embody? If you were to turn them to your own use…

Well, Asa’s use. Right? The old churches all broke up when the Demigods replaced the Heralds with Avatars, since there was no longer a need for a priestly class to interpret the will of the divine. Maybe Asa knows more.


After dinner, you all retire to the common room just to catch up. Jerome vanishes into the upper floors to drop off your stuff in one of the now-vacant kids’ rooms, and you shuck your wargear for something less metallic. The talk of the city right now is the mobilization, but apparently your brazen sting on Feathers is gaining listeners, too. Laura goes into detail, describing the rumors of the attack. Apparently, you had an entire platoon with you, except you weren’t there, because all she lists are Brotherhood members.

“So the Brotherhood just snatched her for no reason, huh?” you ask, straight-faced.

“Well, she must have done SOMETHING,” Laura admits. “The Brotherhood generally leave freelancers like that alone.”


(con’t)
>>
That night, as you and Jerome settle into the guest room, you discreetly page Asa again.

{My Lady, what is this I hear about a cult in town?}

[Ah, yes, the Circle of Fervent Ardency,] Asa says derisively. [Pack of zealots, but mostly harmless.]

{…Aren’t Fervent and Ardent synonyms?} you ask.

[I never called them smart. They claim to worship us directly. It’s not like we can tell any more.]

You frown against the pillow at her dismissal. {You can’t tell?}

[How could we? We can’t read minds,] Asa reminds you. [When Mai’te was alive, we could feel when people were worshipping us, but we can’t now. Honestly, it never served much purpose. It’s not like we were competing with anybody. All souls went to Mai’te, and we passed along her will.]

> “Think it would be worth contacting this cult?”
> “Think they’ll get in the way?”
>writein
>>
>>32179089
> “Think they’ll get in the way?”
>>
>>32179089
They'll get in they way if they actually learn about us
>>
{Then I should steer clear,} you decide.

[Think so? I don’t,] Asa says.

{What? I’m a Herald. I’m everything they haven’t had in three thousand years!} you exclaim.

[Precisely,] Asa says smugly. [They’ll fall over themselves to do your every whim.]

That’s…true. But still. {They’ll just slow me down, won’t they?} you ask carefully.

[Again, I don’t think so. Not if you ask them to leave you alone when you’re trying to be covert.] Asa’s tone takes on a thoughtful air. [You know, I hadn’t thought of this, but it may be…perhaps you shouldn’t remain covert forever.]

{Oh?}

[In fact, it could rather work against you when you’re pursuing Kotrick and Moor,] Asa says. [Recall that they’re crime lords. They do all their real deals in private, away from the world. It’s why I can’t find them. Even with access to all the souls of all the dead elves in history, I can’t find them.] Her voice darkens a bit. [It’s…profoundly annoying. But if you were to pursue them in public…]

{Then there would be thousands of deaths when they activate the Orb in the middle of the city to elude their hunters,} you point out.

[Fair enough. Still, you can’t hide indefinitely. Sooner or later, someone who knows history will see that mark in public. And when that happens, you’ll have mere hours to control what happens next. Having your own, private army would be…helpful.]

> {This is true.}
> {I suppose I could contact them but demand they stay quiet.}
> {They could be problematic.}
> writein
>>
>>32179598
>> {They could be problematic.}
Crazy believers are never a good thing. Regardless of any decision to go overt or stay covert we shouldn't use them.
>>
Back and Writing!
>>
{I think I should avoid them for now,} you think to Asa. {Crazy believers…I mean, there’s no way they’d keep word of my existence to themselves.}

It takes a moment for Asa to reply. [Very well. It’s your decision.] She quickly changes the topic. [Anything else you wanted to report? When will you be able to interrogate Feathers?]

{Tomorrow, I will. I guess I don’t really have anything else to report,} you think. {So…one down.}

[Four down. Nicely done, even if you faced the unexpected. Whom shall you pursue next?]

{We’ll see who falls out of the tree when we shake her down.} You shrug against the rough sheets. {Probably Hooks. He partners with Feathers.}

[Why do they adopt such silly names?]

{To sound intimidating, I suppose.}

Asa chuckles, then the gem goes cold. You pull your hand away and roll back over to see Jerome looking at you funny.

“What does it feel like to have someone talking in your head?” he asks.


> “I still don’t like it.”
> “It’s not unpleasant…just weird.”
> “I kinda like it, to be honest.”
>writein
>>
>>32180586
>“I kinda like it, to be honest.”
>>
K, guess I've only got one player today.

Onwards regardless!
>>
The feeling when Asa is speaking in your head really isn’t distracting. You never really did mind quiet, but now that there’s someone in there sometimes, it’s actually…

“Almost relaxing,” you say quietly.

“Relaxing?”

“Yeah. I never feel alone. Even when I am.” You try to meet his eyes and impart some sense of what you’re feeling. “You know?”

“I guess not, but I’m glad it doesn’t feel bad.” He reaches over to you, and you disappear into his hug. “All right. See you tomorrow.”

“G’night,” you murmur.


LEVEL TWO COMPLETE: LOVE, LOSS, AND VENGEANCE

Progress: C
Combat: C
Improv: C-


Okay, you’re done with the first investigation! This was a gimme with three Brotherhood members backing you up, but you still managed to take her alive when the chance came up. I can’t fault you for bad dice rolls, either. In terms of improv, there was nothing as good as it was in the first two threads, which is a bit disappointing, but there weren’t too many chances for it either.


Next chapter, you’ll have the chance to bring the Firesouls into this (which you could have done before but haven’t had a real reason to) if you want, and you will be given the chance to recruit the Circle if you decide to do so (though it looks like you won’t). The tunnel in your house will be complete, so you can explore a bit, and you can go see Dervich and talk things out – again, only if you want to. You’ll have to pick one of the remaining conspirators to pursue, as well.


Do people want me to continue here, or should I start a new thread tomorrow night instead?
>>
>>32181338
To ensure the thread not up and dying, running tomorrow night might be best.
>>
I see. Yeah, that may be for the best.

Oh well.



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