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/tg/ - Traditional Games


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Old Generation A threads here: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive.html?tags=Generation%20A
You don't really need to have read anything but Ice Vikings thread one to follow along with this, as it is a fairly independent storyline.

The ocean breeze is fresh, stiff, and bracing in the cresting sun of a new dawn. Waves crash against the solid wood beneath you, even as it stirs the smell of ash and smoke, embers still smoldering. The remains of the ship you'd come to this new, strange land upon.

Though despite the scent of the wreck, your nose still picks up the twinge of salt.

And where there is the smell of salt, there is always promise.

Your moment of quiet peace upon the deck is broken rather expectantly by old Grindstone as he hacks up a fat yellow glob over the side of his massive longship.

“A red dawn. A bad dawn.” The old captain, ever scowling, barely shifts his eyes to glare toward the sunrise.

“Didn't take you for the superstitious type.” You note.

“Ach. You sail the salt within sight of black spire down to the witchwood south of Irongrip and not see things, lad.” Grindstone takes a pull from his flask before turning his attention to the little creature at your side.

Avael herself quite downcast standing next to you, freshly fettered with a heavy collar of runic iron adorning her writs and neck.

“Not every day you see a magic like that, though.” Grindstone's voice is a mix of bemused caution and distaste, “Bad omen to bring her with us, Vetr. Better to cut her free and be done with it.”

Though you take the old mans wisdom to heart, you aren't about to release your prize.

The fennec pulls in annoyance at the collar about her neck, the chain clinking as she does, her face conveying her frustrations.

“That's no simple metal, girl. That's old, powerful. Forged with the roots of a mountain, the spittle of birds, you won't just pull it off.”
>>
Avael glares up at your words, shaking the oversized collar vigerously.

“Why you do this?!”

“You burned down the last ship I had you on. Can't have you do it again or we'll start running low on ships.”

Thus far, at least, the chief of this fleets smiths had been correct in his judgment. A few simple bands of steel wouldn't do much to stop her magic. Instead, he had given you these old bands. If he was to be believed, relics from when Frosts still tread upon The Silence.

Despite a fair amount of prompting after securing the cuffs and chains, Avael had been unable to stir her own magic beyond a few crackles of sparks. Much to her howling annoyance.

Even now as she pulls at it, the collar shows no intentions of releasing its charge. No matter how much Avael struggles, thrashing it against her fresh garb of furs and leathers, all of which several measures too large for her.

Ignoring your prisoner for the moment, you move up beside Grindstone, who has taken position hunched over an upended barrel, with a small map of sheepskin draped over it.

You stare down at the colors, making note of the massive sections missing much of anything.

“This is the closest we have to a chart from here on. Of all the old maps to be found of these lands, all we could learn was perhaps a general outline of coasts. The mice and moths certainly did their work.” Grindstone drinks yet again.

Giving the iron chain wrapped around your left hand a tug, you pull your prisoner over in your direction.

Avael nearly stumbles with a surprised shout, her feet skittering across the sanded wooden deck as she struggles to keep her feet along with the pace of your tug.

“What you want?” She glares up at you, “Just let Avael go!”
>>
Instead of answering, you grab her around the middle with your other arm and hoist her into the air. She lets out a sharp yelp as you swing her about until she can get a look down at the map.

Her thrashing momentarily ceases as she catches a glimpse of the skin, her eyes narrowing and her nose wrinkling slightly as her lips twinge a slight smirk.

“You bad at maps.”

A good shaking gets her to reconsider her position with a series of “Stop!” and “Put down!”

“It's the best we could do. My people haven't been this far east in a long, long time. Now I need you to point out any locations you know. Towns. Mountains. Anything you know.”

“Ehhh...” The fennec protests, closing her eyes and turning her head away.

“Maps boring. Avael no good with maps. No magic in maps.”

Another vigorous shaking yields another barrage of squeaks and shrieks.

“I don't care if it's boring, it's what you're going to do if you want to eat.”

“Tch.” The fennec clicks her tongue before grinding her right canines together, glowering.

Finally one chained hand extends toward the page, one of her light brown fingers coming to rest on the island almost contained within a larger body of land.

“Here Hall of Magos,” She taps the skin, “Where Avael train. Giant city.”

Her small hand traces down to the upper tip of the land encircling the Hall of Magos. It continues around, circling a large swath of land that constitutes most of the upper continent.

“Here pink Orc lands. Bad monsters want sell Avael. Buy from cats...”
>>
Her hand shifts yet again toward the lower part of the continent, measuring out an area along the small southern peninsula encircling the other half of the Hall of Magos.

“Cat lands, maybe more, Avael not know.”

“And you? Where are your people from?” You hold her a bit closer to the map now.

“Here!” She presses a fingertip against the large continent to the south, specifically to the eastern side of the landmass.

“Is she pointing out cities, lad? Towns?” Grindstone, despite not speaking a word of spelltongue himself, seems to be following along and getting the gist of things.

“We need town locations, girl, do you know of any?”

Avael's face screws up at your inquiry, before she turns her head away and mumbles something.

“I'll shake you again...” You threaten.

“Avael... Not take geography classes. Too boring, fall asleep.”

Annoyance welling up in your chest, you pull your right hand away from the map upon the barrel and clamp in firmly around the base of Avael's tail.

“Wha... No! Bad touch! Let go!”

“I'm pretty certain I remember someone boasting about being the top of her class. I'm also beginning to wonder if a certain someone was lying, and how they might be better off back inside a sack.”

Grindstone's eyes shift from the struggling girl, thrashing in your grip, and the map.

“Does she know anything, lad?” The old man scratches at his beard upon finding his flask freshly emptied.

“Not much.”

You point out the locations Avael had shown you on the map.
>>
The center island she claims houses the Hall of Magos where she had allegedly studied, though you are beginning to doubt such a claim.

The pink Orc lands to the north.

The small southern part of the continent where Avael thinks perhaps at least the cats reside.
And lastly, the other, larger continent where the fennec claims to hail from. Quite a ways from your current more northern location.

“I suppose it's a start...” Grindstone grunts in thanks as a member of his crew tosses him a fresh drinking skin, which the old man promptly uncorks.

>talk/question/action
Alternatively
[ ] Abandon plan to sail on the morning tide, head inward across land to take scope of the pink Orc lands

[ ] Throw caution to the wind and sail directly toward the island home to the Hall of Magos

[ ] Sail south toward the purported cat lands.
>>
>>35982638
>[ ] Sail south toward the purported cat lands.
I have no idea.
>>
>>35982638
I honestly have no clue.
>[ ] Sail south toward the purported cat lands.
>>
Setting aside the angry little fennec, you tap a finger across the skin map.

“From what little I've seen of the pink Orcs, they don't seem to be great fighters, and their treasures are...” You glance toward the fennec who has taken again to struggling at her collar, “Interesting at best.”

Grindstone snorts in reply.

“If the Hall of Magos is really a thing, I'm not sure I want to go raiding there yet without knowing more. I'll try to coax more out of this one later.” You tap on the island.

“Instead, I think we go here.” You circle the southern jut of the continent.

“It was the cats that captured this little fox, if she can be believed. The way she talked about them makes it seem as though this is par the course for them. Which makes me think they might have more in the way of plunder, and better fighting skills to boot.

The old captain nods as he follows along, before contemplating that last bit with another pull from the skin.

“After those months at sea, the boys are itching for a fight. Isn't that right boys?” He shouts the last of that back toward his crew, who holler back their approval with raucous noise and stamping of feet.

You know he's right.

Loot is good, but it isn't as satisfying if it wasn't a fight to take it.

Avael seems startled by the sudden noise, her ears standing on end and their fluffyness bristling as her tail fluff stands on end. Panicked eyes glance around and her fingers grip the collar about her neck.

“What happened?” She backs up against you defensively.

“We're setting sail south. How do foxes and cats get along?”

Avael swallows audibly, and might have paled slightly if the tone of her skin had much allowed it.

“Not well.”
>>
“No? Is that so?” You smirk even as Grindstone begins bellowing commands to his crew. Already the men are in motion readying the ship to depart. All along the coast, other captains take up the calls.

They might not know where you intend to sail yet until the runners relay the orders, but none want to be the one responsible for making Grindstone wait.

“Cats capture Avael! Sell Avael! Cats evil!” The fennec shakes her cuffed wrists in protest as she continues to yap away.

“Cats terrible! Big knives, long claws, too fast!” This time she grabs you around the wrist, “Why you not listen!?”

You clamp one of your large hands around her mouth in response, but Avael continues to try to speak through it.

“Do you remember what I said about talking too much? Do you want the gag again? I can get it back out.” You threaten.

The fennec, though plainly displeased, seems to get the message as her lips stop moving against your palm.

“You just as bad as cats...” She glares.

Despite the other captains having thrown themselves into the work the moment they saw Grindstone doing so, their crews take far longer to ready themselves to sail. Enough so that Grindstone begins pacing about his own deck, personally checking lines and grumbling to himself.

Though he had begun to spit warnings about slowing tides during his agitation, no such problem occurs. Instead, longship after longship begin paddling their way out into the salt sea, the long oars moving in liquid rhythm to the beating of hide drums.
>>
Papa N <3
>>
As large as Grindstone's ship is, his oarsman are indeed a cut above those aboard the other ships. While you were the one to first cast off the shore, it isn't long until you are well into the lead of the other ships.

You watch the old captain as he holds a hand up into the air, into the wind, his fingers curling in it almost as though he can grab the current of the sky itself.

“Stow oars!” He bellows to his crew, “Raise sail! We've a good wind at our back.”

By the time the other captains follow suit, your own ship is even further in the lead, its striped black and red sail bowed outward as it hungrily devours the wind.

You take a position standing at the bow, watching the sea beyond whilst sipping lightly from a mug of hot mulled mead.

Avael sits beside you, wrapped up in a heavy bear fur against the cold as she gnaws hungrily at a long strip of dried pork and gulps at her own mug. You note that this is perhaps the tenth time she's eaten since burning down the ship you'd first sailed on to these strange lands.

The crew seem to have taken notice of the appetite as well, some tossing her apples or strips of salt cod and watching in marvel as she downs each.

“I'm not even sure where it all goes...” One of the cooks had noted as the fennec had slurped her way through a bowl of hearty potato and boar stew.

“Where does it all go?” You shake your head down at your captive.

“Mph?” The fennec glances up at you between bites, but offers no insight as to her digestive prowess.
>>
As the hours pass, you doze under the beating sun. Despite the still rather northern latitude, you can feel the warmth creeping, and it isn't just the mead.

Gulls cry far overhead, the wood of the ship creaks and groans, and the sail flaps heartily in the strong wind. A lull enough to keep you well drowsy until a leather boot pokes you in the side.

Opening a single eye, you see Grindstone standing over you, drinking from a copper flask this time as he stares off the port side of his longship.

“There already?” You muse.

Grindstone spits off into the water and shakes his head, “My ship may be fast but not even a falcon with her tailfeathers ablaze moves that quick.”

Instead he prompts you to look yet again at the map.

Standing up, you disturb Avael who had curled up nearby, almost coiled into a ball. Her sleepy eyes watch you for a moment before she rolls over and pulls the bear fur back over her head.

“The scouts are back with news.” He nods up toward the tall mast of his ship.

Sure enough, both of the hawk harpies are again perched atop it. Two older, seasoned men who had joined at Three Gate. While not seafarers themselves, it had become commonplace for Frosts to employ harpies as scouts, where there natural abilities proved invaluable.

They could fly far and fast upon their large wings, and with raptor eyes they could scour the land and bring back all manner of information. Though it came at the price of a good deal of plunder for themselves, it was almost always well worth the cost.

Grindstone points out three locations on the map for you to see.
>>
The first at the very tip of the southern peninsula.

“The birds say it's the largest of the three. A massive harbor of stone with high walls and a hundred ships within the breakwall, they say. Lots of activity, but no ships coming or going.”

Grindstone's finger goes to another spot, a peninsula jutting out into the bay containing the island of the Hall of Magos.

“Another large port, but this unlike any the birds had ever seen. No walls, but they squawk of giant shining pillars and dunes of sand taller than any wave. And a river large enough to swallow the entirety of Blood Run and perhaps The Heart as well.”

The old captain's finger comes to rest on one final location at the southern most tip of the continent.

“Here the birds say they have seen a great grass plain with castles upon each hill. Crops in fields and upon terraces. Though no port to speak of, plenty of sand beach along the coast.”

[ ] Strike to the first harbor, the one crowded with ships

[ ] Sail into the massive bay and toward the giant pillars, dunes, and massive river

[ ] Head to the southernmost point with the sand beach and castles upon the hills

[ ] Wake up Avael and see if she knows anything else (-5 to fennec mood)

[ ] Other
>>
>>35983827
>[x] Sail into the massive bay and toward the giant pillars, dunes, and massive river
>>
>>35983827
>[ ] Strike to the first harbor, the one crowded with ships
How many men do we have?
>>
>>35983827
>[ ] Wake up Avael and see if she knows anything else (-5 to fennec mood)

Ask her about the first two. The harbor and massive bay. Intel intel intel.
>>
>>35983827
>[ ] Sail into the massive bay and toward the giant pillars, dunes, and massive river
>>
>>35983827
>[ ] Strike to the first harbor, the one crowded with ships
>>
>>35983879
Nineteen longships in total (after the 20th burned down) with some 500 odd Frosts in total. A decent sized scouting force.
>>
>>35983827
>A massive harbor
>but no ships coming or going

Questionable.

>shining pillars and dunes of sand taller than any wave
Might be fun.

I'll second >>35983905 Good intel gets her more food perhaps better food at that.
>>
Second harbor seems to have won if I count
>>35983980
toward it.
>>
“I don't like the omen of no ships out and about with the first harbor.”

Grindstone nods his agreement while adding “And raiding castles is all too often a waste of time.”

“So harbor within the bay, then?”

“Aye.” Grindstone spits yet again over the side, “I'll plot the course.”

While the old captain steps away toward his map and tools, you stretch out and get yourself a cool draft of strong ale this time. Something to clear away the drowsiness of the sea.

Returning to your spot at the bow, you see Avael still snoozing soundly, though her tail has worked itself out from under the furs atop her and is twitching across the deck.

“Hey, you.” You tap her with the toe of your right boot, though get no response. And again, with still not a stirring.

You intend to ask her about the port you're sailing to and what might await you there, if she knows anything at all. Though more and more you're really beginning to think she's not as learned as she claims. Her poor grasp of spelltongue only adding to that concern.

[ ] Be nice

[ ] Be mean

[ ] Swimming lessons

[ ] Other
>>
>>35984265
>[ ] Be nice
>>
>>35984265
>[ ] Be nice
>>
>>35984265
>[x] Be nice
>>
>>35984265
>[ ] Ask her calmly.
No need to bully be mean to her or nice for that matter. But if she kicks up a stink... Well things will go there natural course.
>>
While pondering on the best way to awaken your captive in a talkative mood, you glance at the ropes coiled about the deck. You could tie one to her and see just how well a fox swims, or perhaps what you might catch using one as bait.

However amusing that might be, however, it would be unlikely to yield much positive result.

Instead, you take a momentary stroll down into the underdecks where you can smell the twinge of bacon cooked stiff. The cooks all eagerly pile a heap into a hollowed out loaf of hard bread crust with a few greetings of “Hungry, Vetr?”

Standing over your captive you squat down and remove a still warm piece of slightly blackened bacon from the bread, before wafting it near the bear fur.

Slowly the fur is peeled back and the still sleeping head of the fennec emerges, her nose seems to track the smell as you move the bacon back and forth. Her lips brush against it before, still slumbering, she takes the piece and crunches at it.

One of her blue eyes peels open and Avael swallows.

“We're headed toward land again. The interior southern peninsula of the bay. Our birds say it's a large port with massive pillars, dunes, and a river wider than any they have ever seen. Know the place.”

The fennec thinks for a few moments, still chewing.

“Big river?”

“Gigantic river.” You answer.

Avael frowns, “Desert dunes no good. Cats live in desert. Bad desert, not like fox desert. Always hot, no mountains.”

You take a seat and toss a piece of bacon into the air. The fennec catches it rather expertly between her teeth and the pork disappears almost instantly with a few loud crunches.

“Big river...” She licks her right fang in contemplation, “One river that big. Inie river.”

>questions/talk/action
>>
>>35984548
Any magic users like her there?

Beyond long claws, fast, etc is there anything she can tell us about these cat folk. Info dump for what she's worth.
>>
>>35984548
Are there any major defenses in the region? Rapids?
>>
“Do the cats live along that river?” You ask, holding out another piece of the blackened bacon.

“Mph.” The fennec shrugs, “Avael not know.”

“But you were captured by cats, right? So surely you know at least something about them. Do they send students to the Hall? Are they capable of any magic?”

Avael seems to struggle with your question for a few moments, chewing at yet another strip of bacon.

“Not sent to Hall, no. Hall not take anyone, Hall ask you. Cats at Hall? No. Cats probably not come if asked.”

Another strip of bacon disappears into what might perhaps be an infinite bag of holding for a stomach. You wonder if this is as tall as a fennec gets, because she sure seems to eat enough to grow, though it would seem she's only grown a tiny bit plump and maxed out at her current height.

“Cat magic is different magic. Night magic. Sneaky. Cats disappear into shadow like... Like...” Avael struggles to find the right phrase.

“Like food into your gut?”

“Rude.” She frowns.

“And the city itself, do you know anything about it? Hidden dangers? Defenses? Anything?”

“Avael no nothing about cat towns. Avael hate cats.” She reaches out and grabs an entire fist full of bacon before retreating a bit.

You surmise you aren't going to get much more out of her. Either because she's perhaps guarding information, or more likely that she really doesn't know.

“What was your rank at the Hall?” You raise an eyebrow.

“First! Best in class!”

You don't believe her.
>>
>>35984762
Considering her spelltongue is... lacking I think she's just blowing hot air and coasting by on her natural aptitude for blowing things up when angry.
>>
Deciding any further questioning a waste of time, you toss the rest of the food toward her and stand up to go find Grindstone. Helping a few of the crew tie down a few errant ropes strewn up by the strong winds along the way.

You aren't shocked to find the old captain back at the rudder, despite having a very experienced crew fully capable of the mundane tasks of sailing themselves. At least the old man doesn't seem to feel the need to take the helm himself. Wiry strong he might well be, but he's also the oldest of the raiding party, and by a good twenty years or so.

“Ach, Vetr. Come see.” He points a long, thin finger out into the distance.

You squint against the wind, your own eyes still not used to the sea.

It isn't until several long moments pass before you finally spot it.

“A lighthouse?” You squint harder before Grindstone taps you on the side with a viewing glass.

Holding up the bronze banded instrument to your eye, you look through its glass and can see more clearly now. What perhaps was once a lighthouse now doesn't seem fit to bear the name. Even from here you can tell it's in terrible disarray and missing the top half of its structure. The entirety of it seemingly black as though the stone itself were charred.

“It looks like a ruin.”

“Likely it is. With the war raging under the seas, most ships probably don't venture out far enough from land to need the guiding lights.” Grindstone spits before scratching thoughtfully at his beard.

“Or at least, that's what my gut tells me.”

“So we must be entering the bay, then?” You turn about and scan the opposite side with the glass, but spot nothing. The other peninsula must be too far even for the glass.
>>
>>35984762
perhaps it would be fruitful to nail her down as to what standard was she first. Most skilled at blowing shit up? Maybe. Otherwise, seems she is just a victim looking for an an oppressor.
>>
“Aye, this is the bay. Depth readings are still deep enough that you wouldn't know it without a proper course plot.” Grindstone tilts his head toward the four crewmen busily hoisting up a long length of knotted rope.

“Still too deep to gauge, cap!” One of them shouts upon noticing Grindstone's glance.

“So how are we sure we're headed into the bay?” You jest.

“Pah!” Grindstone spits in as close as he really gets to laughter, “I can plot a course through the underworld and back. How do you think it is I'm still here, lad? Hel can drag me down again and again but I'll just sail on back out.”

As the old captain strides over to his helmsman for a quick word, you find yourself a keg of firewater propped against the siderail and fill a copper cup resting beside it, then a second.

Time slowly breezes by like the wind as you sit with Grindstone, watch the waves, and drink.

There's little enough to do on a ship, perhaps why every Frost vessel seems to have brought as much brew as it had food.

Thus by the time you spot the blur of Avael running toward you, you're already belching and laughing at the debauched stories of some of Grindstone's crew.

“So I says to her, how do you know it's cold as ice, love? Ya haven't even given it a lick!” One of the crew, a bronze bearded older man with at least three gold teeth finishes the story which is followed by an eruption of laughter.
>>
The fennec is nearly at you before she trips on a length of coil, sprawling face first onto the deck and drawing another bellow of laughter from the gathered crew.

“Avael see something at front! Something huge!” She gapes, her nose and forehead slightly red from the impact against the wood.

“What's the girl all worked up for, she see a mermaid?” The gold toothed crewman guffaws, “Ya know I fucked a mermaid once.”

“Ah getoffit, we all know ya ain't! Closest might be a fat old crone that smelled like one!” Another of the crew tosses the remainder of his drink at the gold toothed crewman who ducks aside skillfully.

“Huge!” Avael throws her hands out wide, “Giant! Red and scales!”

Despite the continued laughter and japes by his crew, Grindstone seems to have toned them out and looks toward you.

“What's she saying, Vetr?”

But before you can answer, the entire ship is rocked violently sideways, a few crewman scrambling for handholds while two lose their footing and crash against the deck.

“Don't listen to them, love! Your cunt stink wasn't as bad as some!” The gold toothed man laughs down at the waves.

Grindstone is on his feet, sober as ever.

“That was no wave.” He says flatly.

And the jubilation dies suddenly.
>>
For once, the entirety of the Frost longship is eerily silent. No noise save the flapping of the sail and the splash of water against the prow.

Until the quiet is broken by a single cry.

“Somethin off the port side!” The crewman bellows, pointing down at the water.

You all rush over to peer down into the water. And what you see there is unlike anything you've ever witnessed in your short time on the seas.

It appears almost as vegetation, tall green fronds skimming across the top of the deep blue waters. A long length of them, perhaps as long as the ship itself. Just tracing across the surface.

“Is it a weed patch?” Someone offers, clearly out of explanations themselves.

“That's no damnable weed patch.” Grindstone snarls.

As if to answer for itself, the green fronds begin to rise more and more out of the water, the surface around them taking on a redder and redder twinge. Until finally the first of the scales begin to break the surface. Scales larger around than your outstretched hand, adorning a body wider around than the longship.

The length of the thin body rises up out of the water some twenty feet into the air before sliding back down, disappearing from sight.

The longship is once again rocked violently side to side.

[ ] To oars, attempt to outrun the beast

[ ] To arms, prepare to repel the sea monster

[ ] Frost shield, freeze the water surrounding the longship and attempt to use ice as a barrier

[ ] Other
>>
>>35985491

Hatten up the brish brash and batten down the hatches!
We've got ourselves a cute sea monster to tame
With semen
>>
>>35985491
>[ ] To arms, prepare to repel the sea monster
>>
>>35985491
[ ] Other

Ram it!
>>
>>35985491
>[ ] Frost shield
>>
>>35985491
>[ ] To arms, prepare to repel the sea monster
>>
>>35985491
[x] To arms, prepare to repel the sea monster

[x] Frost shield, freeze the water surrounding the longship and attempt to use ice as a barrier

Both
Freeze the area around the ship and then use arrows and shit as she tries to break her way through the ice. After all, the only person who's gotta do the freezing is us. What's the rest of the crew gonna do, watch?
>>
>>35985491
>[ ] To arms, prepare to repel the sea monster
>>
>>35985491
>[ ] Frost shield, freeze the water surrounding the longship and attempt to use ice as a barrier
then
>[ ] To arms, prepare to repel the sea monster
clear a path in front of us and
>[ ] To oars, attempt to outrun the beast
>>
“All hands, to arms!” Grindstone bellows, though the crew are already a few steps ahead of him. Some string up longbows while others open long chests and produce long steel-tipped spears. A few others pull the coverings from heavy scorpions and begin to load the large weapons.

Again the beast rises from the seas, this time revealing yet more of its body. Long and serpentine, covered in its entirety in massive scales. The end of its powerful tail a large fin of the same green you'd seen when the creature first broke the surface.

A few loosed arrows find their mark but the shafts seem rather ineffectual against the armor. Those that do stick don't penetrate enough to do much of anything.

“Vetr!” Grindstone shouts toward you even as he himself begins to pull back on a crossbow, “Get us a shield!”

Wasting no time, you run to the railing and begin to call forth the cold. An ages old Frost trick with dozens of uses, to freeze a strong layer of ice over the top of the water.

What normally might require the entirety of a Frost crew takes only you with your innate mastery over the winter. Already a sheet of ice is growing around the ship, forming in jagged spikes and rolling mounds from the continued wave action. Even with your power, it isn't an easy task. Though the ice continues to spread and grow thicker as you concentrate.

It isn't nearly completed yet when the front end of the massive sea serpent breaks through the starboard side. Most of the crew just watch in awe as a bony head large enough to swallow the ship whole rises swiftly from the water, its twin hinged jaw opened as it screams in a high shrieking roar. Though its eyes are but black pits, you can tell the beast is watching you.

The waves forced up as the head crashes back down are so immense that they crash over the side of the ship, rocking it violently as all hands brace.
>>
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...I think we might be slightly over our heads. Someone get the keys for the Fennec? We're gonna need some more firepower if we want to serve up this fish.
>>
>>35985871
I still think combat isn't the way. This is vastly beyond our capabilities, probably even with the Fennec Firestarter.
We -know- this bitch is just after our venerated ice cream.
We need to take one for the team and give it to her.
>>
>>35985871
I say we fashion a harness to hold her to our chest and use her as a directed energy weapon
>>
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>>35985909
pic mostly related
>>
>>35985908
I don't think Tzeentch is around to pull of another Ra’alman this time Anon. And I really don't want to read another vore scene.
>>
As the longship levels out, one of the scorpion crew finally manage to get a bolt off. The three foot long iron projectile rockets off the launcher before spearing into the exposed side of the beast as it coils upwards from the ice below. Though it seems to penetrate deeper than the arrows, you can tell by the size of the creature that it just won't be enough. You aren't going to bleed this thing to death with pinpricks.

Another section of the creature nears enough to the railing for the crew gathered there to plunge spears toward it. Most of the shafts break as the muscled coil bucks, but several sink past the head.

Again the head of the creature crashes through what now must be a solid two feet of ice, as though it were nothing. The pearl white bony skull bashing into the prow of the longship, knocking you and many others off their feet as the longship halts.

Some of the other Frost vessels are drawing near enough now to try to link up their own ice shields, none of which appear near as strong as yours. Arrows fly from other decks, but prove no more effectual than those that were loosed before.

One coil of monster rises against the ship itself, close enough for Grindstone to hack at it with his drawn sword, shearing off a few scales before the section sinks back below the waves.

Another section of ice explodes outwards from the port side as the beast rises from the waves, its body towering into the sky, before it comes crashing down toward another of the Frost fleet. The wooden ship buckles in two from the impact, cracking down the center despite the ice shield. Its mast splintering into a thousand pieces.

This time remaining on the surface, the enormous head of the creature rolls to take a head on bearing with your own ship. Its massive jaws open so wide that you can see the violence of the seawater rushing into its gut as it powers itself straight at you.

“Vetr, the rudder!”

1d20 to avoid head on collison
>>
Rolled 20 (1d20)

>>35985935
But that's half the fun. The dice gods agree, right?
>>35985939
>>
Rolled 13 (1d20)

>>35985939
>>
>>35985943
Shit
>>
>>35985943
I think they like avoiding damage right now.
>>
Rolled 1 (1d20)

>>35985943
The Dice gods dissent.
>>35985939
>>
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>>35985943
AHAHAHAHAHAA YES
THEY AGREED
>>
Rolled 20 (1d20)

>>35985939

>>35985943
well done anon
>>
Rolled 10 (1d20)

>>35985943
>>35985963
>>35985965
...

The dice, they welcome Papa back with open arms and confusing omens.
>>
>>35985943
>>35985963
>>35985965
I don't even know anymore
>>
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>>35985943
>>35985963
>>35985965
THE DICE GODS DEMAND FUN
>>
>>35985943
>>35985963
>>35985965
Dice please.
>>
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>>35985943
>>35985963
>>35985965
Wat.
>>
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>>35985943
>>35985963
>>35985965
Nope
>>
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>>35985943
>Rolled 20 (1d20)
>>35985965
>Rolled 20 (1d20)
Seriously?

>>35985963
And there it is

Though you grab the wooden rudder and push with all your might, the ship simply can't turn fast enough to avoid the oncoming jaws. With a terrible violence, the forward motion of the ship is halted all at once.

Many lose their footing, some going over the rails.

Though they are the first to plunge into the frigid waters below, the impact having broken the ice shield into floating chunks, they aren't the last.

You barely manage to cling on and of all the things to suddenly draw your attention, it is the smallest of clicking noises.

Looking to your left, you see Avael has somehow opened the lock of her collar and turned fiery eyes toward you.
Before you can inquire why her mouth is now open to a comically large level, the suction power begins. Though you struggle to maintain a hold, the vacuum proves too powerful a force.

Before you really know what's happening, you're sucked into Avael's open maw. Suddenly surrounded by the soft interior of her belly.

The fennec squats down, absorbing your powers which manifest as a hat of ice crystals atop her head, before multi jumping and inflating herself to float through the air.

Once over the creature, she forms herself into an eight ton weight and drops upon its head.

The massive sea monster buckles under the impact but can't retaliate before Avael jumps out of the transform and uses her B attack, a giant beam of ice that freezes the creature solid.

WINNER

Awards: Mostly useless, lemming award, shortest innings
>>
>>35986162
HUE?
>>
Rolled 11 (1d20)

>>35986179
HUE HUE HUE

BRBRBRBRBRBRBRBRBR
>>
You grab the long rudder with both of your hands and pull, throwing all of your weight into it. Though the ship turns, it isn't turning enough. Even Avael runs toward you, adding her minute strength to your own as she pulls with a strained cry.

Barely, just barely, the longship avoids the bony head of the sea beast. Instead drawing up alongside in enough of a broadside for all the scorpions to land hits along the base of the creature's spine. These it seems to feel a bit more, writhing in pain, part of its body thrashing into the ship's side.

More Frosts jab spears into the side, drawing spurts of bright green blood, which raises a chorus of battle cries as more Frosts scramble for yet more spears.

The beast submerges and rises, again and again, but shows no signs of slowing.

A scorpion bolt manages to find the beast's eye, eliciting a thrashing wail from the massive sea serpent.

But you know that isn't going to be enough to kill it.

[ ] Unshackle Avael and see if fire is effective against water

[ ] Try the ice shield again, maybe you can keep up this battle and weaken the creature

[ ] Use your ice shield as a bridge and use your runic axe [Fearless warrior]

[ ] Other
>>
Rolled 16 (1d20)

>>35986276
>[ ] Unshackle Avael and see if fire is effective against water

What can go wrong?
Everything!
>>
>>35986276
>[ ] Use your ice shield as a bridge and use your runic axe [Fearless warrior]
This will go horribly wrong. I'm looking forward to it.
>>
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>>35986276
>[ ] Use your ice shield as a bridge and use your runic axe [Fearless warrior]
Bring it on.
>>
>>35986276
>[ ] Unshackle Avael and see if fire is effective against water
[ ] Try the ice shield again, maybe you can keep up this battle and weaken the creature
Offer her al the food she can eat.
>>
>>35986276
>[ ] Use your ice shield as a bridge and use your runic axe [Fearless warrior]
>>
>>35986276
>[ ] Use your ice shield as a bridge and use your runic axe [Fearless warrior]
>>
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Rolled 2 (1d20)

>>35986347
>>35986343
>>35986325
>>35986324
>>35986320
>>35986305
>>35986276
Team duo charge with the Fennec? I'm feeling like that's where this is going. I like it.
>>
>>35986411
Nah, she can watch as we fail and die horribly
>>
The beast is still close now. Close enough for you to smell the rank, rotten fish taint of its breath and the acid twinge of its blood stinging your nose. Close enough that you get an insane idea in your head.

The tales of old, of the Vetr, are full of such feats. Of single Frosts, the chosen of Winter, slaying monstrous beasts and other such acts of warrior fame. Those nameless Frosts, bearing only their title, recorded forever in the laurels of history and the stuff of songs still sung upon your own thawing.

“Stay here!” You push Avael back to the deck where she grabs hold of a railing board.

“What you doing!?” The fennec screams, her shining blue eyes fearful as she grips the railing tight.

You don't answer her, instead running toward the midsection of the ship where the crew struggle at weapons and to secure rolling cargo.

“My axe!” You howl down at them below, “My axe!”

None but one seems to hear you, but that one, the bronze beard with gold teeth, turns his gaze toward you before his eyes flash in realization. He leaps for your axe, which is currently sliding across the deck, and wraps one leathery hand around its well worn, ancient shaft.

“Vetr!” He bellows back, before tossing the weapon in a two handed throw toward you.

With a leap, you manage to snag it with one hand before falling back to the deck.

Grindstone has busied himself manning one of the scorpions himself, and is so absorbed in reloading it that when he finally spots you running toward the side of the longship, he can only manage a wordless shout.
>>
But you're already in the air, sailing over the side of the ship before rolling against the ice below. The footing is perilous and each section of broken ice bucks and sinks underfoot as you begin to run with reckless abandon toward the massive sea monster's bony skull.

Your own powers are whipping up a frenzy of ice all around you, waterspouts swirling into the sky and hail the size of your fist crashing from above. These you ignore as you continue to charge, axe held on high.

The beast finally takes notice of you and begins to turn its body, but finds itself slow in the quickly forming ice atop the water all around. It howls and snorts and its bony head thrashes as it attempts to follow you.

[Fearless warrior] Engaged

First 1d6 to hit

Second to damage

Third to block/evade
>>
Rolled 4 (1d6)

>>35986595
I like monopoly. I get all the doubles.
>>
Rolled 2 (1d6)

>>35986595
rollan
>>
Rolled 1 (1d6)

>>35986595
Hey, do we get a bonus for doubles? I feel like that should be a thing.
>>
Rolled 1 (1d6)

>>35986595
>>
Rolled 3 (1d6)

>>35986595
>>
You scream in a furious battlecry as you leap toward the creature's skull, itself too slowed to turn to engage you. Up and up you fly, boosted upon a pillar of ice that sends you skyward. Enough so that when you come falling, you do so right into the spine of the creature.

Leading with your axe.

The blade stays true but the edge finds the rounded side of a scale and glances off.

Before you can manage another swing, the beast bucks with surprising swiftness. The side of its body connecting with your own torso, hard. You grimace as you feel several ribs crack from the impact, which sends you tumbling down where you land on your back against the ice. Though you're up in time to avoid a section of body as it attempts to flatten you against your own ice shield below.

The taste of blood in your mouth isn't enough to dissuade you now, it's too late to turn back here.

HP: 30/100

1d6 to hit
1d6 to damage
1d6 to dodge/block
>>
Rolled 5 (1d6)

>>35986745
>>
Rolled 3 (1d6)

>>35986745
high good high good
>>
Rolled 4 (1d6)

>>35986745
!
>>
Rolled 2 (1d6)

>>35986745
Yahtzee!
>>
Rolled 4 (1d6)

>>35986745
Ouch
>>
You leap to the side just in time to evade the creature's massive jaws from closing around you, the stench of them almost overpowering. From here you can see the scraps of meat clinging to the bony exterior and the plethora of parasites embedded in the creature's flesh.

Charging again, you throw your body into the strike.

The axe bites into the side of the beast, a tremendous cut that sinks most of the head into the beast, through scales and bone alike. Though a brutal strike, you only managed to nick the spine. But the elation of drawing blood wells up inside your chest and seems to bolster your strength.

This time when the beast turns to strike, you can tell it has slowed substantially. As wicked as its counter had been after your first attack, this one seems far more sluggish and you're able to leap up and land upon the beast's back.

1d6 to hit
1d6 to damage (+1)
1d6 to stay atop the beast
>>
Rolled 2 (1d6)

>>35986852
!
>>
Rolled 6 (1d6)

>>35986852
We should get titan-cleats if big-arse monsters are a thing here.
>>
Rolled 4 (1d6)

>>35986852
>>
Rolled 5 (1d6)

>>35986852
>>
Standing as best you can atop the beast, you wait for it to reach the apex of its upward motion, fully intending to slam into the water below and buck you from its back.

Raising your axe high, you slam it down with all of your strength. Though the blade skitters across the first scale, it still manages to sink deep. The old steel burying itself down and down until you feel it connect with bone before crashing right on through. The entirety of the head disappears inside the creature's body.

And all at once you feel the beast go half limp beneath you.

Clutching at the green foliage atop the beast, you ride it down where it slams hard into the frozen waters beneath, almost jarring you free. The creature thrashes, but much milder than it had before. Less powerful. Not enough to toss you.

Now you intend to fully press your attack.

Wrenching the axe free of the creature, you swing it back down again, harder even than before. This blow you feel sever yet more spine at the base of the creature's head. Again and again you raise your weapon to slam it back down.

The slight thrashing of the beast slows until, with one final strike of your axe against the rear base of its skull, the beast twitches once before falling still and silent.

Though you give it a dozen more blows, just to be sure.

It's only now that the bloodlust begins to subside that you can hear the shouts that your mind had drowned out before.

“Vetr!” The crews all around howl your name, stamping on the wooden decks and rattling weapons against the side rails.

You look down at your own body, breathing hard and covered in a thick layer of green blood, mixed in with some of your own red.

With one final battleshout, you slam the axe down and bury it deeper than any of the strikes before. Though you sink to a knee and grab uncomfortably at your side.
>>
[ ] Hack off the head, keep it as a prize

[ ] Have Avael light it ablaze to be rid of the beast for good

[ ] Leave the corpse and climb back aboard your own ship

[ ] Other

Going to eat a sandwich real quick, be back in a few.
>>
>>35987063
>[ ] Hack off the head, keep it as a prize

How is this even a question? Damn thing nearly killed us. Should have too.
>>
>>35987023
>[ ] Hack off the head, keep it as a prize
>[ ] Have Avael light it ablaze to be rid of the beast for good
>[ ] Leave the corpse and climb back aboard your own ship
>>
>>35987063
>[ ] Hack off the head, keep it as a prize
>>
>>35987063
>[ ] Hack off the head, keep it as a prize
Should make a hell of a figurehead
>>
>>35987063
>[ ] Hack off the head, keep it as a prize
BLOOD AND THUNDER!
>>
>>35987023
TOP GUN
>>
>>35987063
>[ ] Hack off the head, keep it as a prize
Loot!
>>
Alright I'm back
>>
>>35987405
Have a nice sandwich?
>>
Rolled 10 (1d20)

>>35987063
>[ ] Hack off the head, keep it as a prize
>>
>>35987412
Pumpernickel, turkey, ham, lettuce, onion, cheddar, jalapenos, pickles, spicy mustard
>>
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>>35987412
I am just assuming all of those things are euphemisms.
>>
You call up to the ship for men with axes, and a dozen leap from the side of the ship and make their way toward you across the icebergs which are now beginning to form back up into a more solid sheet.

Despite your injury, you rise as they draw near and to demonstrate your necessity, you begin hacking at the base of the creature's skull yourself.

Wordlessly, they join you. Each man beginning to chop away with a smattering assortment of axes. More ships join around Grindstone's and more men leap down to assist you, rushing over with excited shouts and sharp blades.

Despite all of the help, the work takes hours. The creature's flesh and bones thick and meaty. One of the more daring crewmembers of another ship attempts to take a bite before hacking it up in a fitful bout of coughing.

“Nope...” He wheezes, “You can all eat it, I'll stick to pork and fish.”

You're nearly complete with the work when the entire fleshy body of the creature is rocked side to side from the collision of a longship that had sped over and not left itself room to slow down.
Its captain, Xam Suraced, throws his hands up wordlessly at the chorus of protests before adjusting his wide brimmed hat and settling down to watch.

The sun is beginning to settle on the horizon by the time you manage to separate the last bits of bone and sinew. The massive head of the beast is quickly strung up with ropes and dozens of men get to heaving hand over hand to hoist the trophy atop the front deck of Grindstone's ship.

You accept a hand from the old captain who pulls you aboard, though you grunt and clutch at your ribs.
>>
When you cough, there's still a smattering of blood, but for the most part you feel alright considering the cracked bones. So long as you're still breathing and can still swing an axe, you're doing well enough.

“Ach, cracked bones will set with some rest and a bit of drink.” Grindstone helps you settle onto a bench seat and thrusts a wineskin into your hand. The sour drink goes down well and you gulp at it with a sudden thirst.

Though another voice breaks your chugging concentration.

“Avael see giant monster! Told you! But nooooo! Nobody believe Avael!” The little fennec dances around you, just out of reach, sticking out her tongue at you.

“I don't need to speak the language to know what she's saying.” Grindstone spits over the side before drawing from his own wineskin.

The fennec laughs excitedly before spinning her way around the head of the giant sea creature, prodding at the cold, dead flesh, and tapping on the bony exterior with her cuffs. You aren't sure why she's so excited about it. Perhaps just the thrill of living through what seemed like certain death.

You lay back on the bench with a groan, the pain in your ribs surfacing anew now that all the adrenaline is gone from your system. Raising the wineskin, you drain the remainder and toss the empty skin aside.

Grindstone looks about before beginning to bark orders. The ship is in horrible disarray, but still floating. In between commands to re-tie rigging and patch cracks, he shouts for someone to help you down to your quarters to rest.

Though a few crewmates head toward you, you wave them off and rise on your own.

Avael gets just close enough for you to grab her the chain connected to her collar and give it a tug. Immediately she stops shouting and spinning and turns to frown at you.

“What want?”

“You're just going to get in the way, come on.” You tug on the chain and lead her along down the steps and into the ship.
>>
The cabin you had been given on this longship, while not quite as extravagant as the one that had burned down, is serviceable enough. Another soft feather bed, a personal head, and the thing you head toward first, a washtub.

Though you'd already done your best at getting the blood of the beast off in the salt sea, you can still see spots adorning your clothes and skin. Only now you are also caked in a layer of salt. With a groan you start to peel off layers of clothing.

Avael takes notice after a moment.

“Stop! What doing!” She turns about and pulls against the chain.

“If I'd wanted to attack you, I would have done it already. Now light me a damn fire, I know you can still sling sparks.” You tilt your head toward the fresh logs under the tub.

Though you have no problem slipping into the rather cold water of the tub, it isn't as relaxing or cleansing as warm water. At least you can rest your head against the back of the basin.

Still keeping her eyes as averted as she can while Avael approaches, nevertheless she crouches down next to the basin and soon enough you see light dance across the walls as she showers the dry logs in sparks. Soon enough, smoke is rising through the hole leading to the fresh air above and the water is slowly growing warmer.

>talk/question/action
>>
>>35988041
So, what was that thing? How many more of them are there? Are there any useful things we can make out of it's carcass? Poisons or bones for bows and scales for armor?
>>
>>35988041
Thanks and good job spotting that monster, it might have taken us unawares otherwise. *headpat* How did you see it by the way?
>>
>>35988067
>>35988041
Yeah, pretty much all of that.
>>
>>35988041
"That wasn't so hard, was it?"
Any idea what the monster was?
>>
As the bath continues to heat, you can actually feel the salt and blood and grime lifting from your body. Along with a slight subsiding of the ache of your side.

“See? I knew you could do something useful if you tried.” You look about the cabin until you spot what you're looking for.

“Now do something really useful and grab me that flagon. I don't really give a damn what's in it.”

The fennec sighs but walks past the tub to grab down the drink which she proceeds to sniff, her face recoiling from the smell in disgust.

“This? This no good for healing.”

“I'll be the judge of that.” You take the drink from her and down it so quickly you aren't sure as to what it may have been, though that doesn't much matter as you feel the slight burn from it.

“You people stinky barbarians, you know?” She shakes her head at you but nevertheless fills the flagon as you stretch it out toward her.

“You say that like it's a bad thing. I may be a stinky barbarian, but I still speak better spelltongue than you do.” You reply with a snort and another long gulping drink.

“Better spelltongue than any! Even biggest Mage not speak quite so good. Is mystery.”
This stops you enough that you turn slightly to look at her. All short few feet of brown skin and large fluffy ears.

“You mean to tell me that not even your head wizard speaks it as well?”

“No!” Avael shakes her head, “Super surprised. Nonsensical.”

“Hah.” You submerge your head underwater for several long moments before rising again, “Putting that aside, do you know what the hell I just killed?”

>you can add more questions/dialogue/actions during this conversation
>>
>>35988250
So are you compared to the head wizard, how much better am I?
>>
“Sea monster?” The fennec offers coyly.

“Yeah I think I got that part down. I've heard of sea monsters, but never of one quite like that. Do you know what it is? Is it worth anything?”

The fennec circles around you as she examines the room, opening drawers and pushing on the stuffed feather pillows as she explores.

“Does Avael appear sea monster butcher?”

“Avael appears sea monster snack.” You reply as you contemplate the drink still in your hand. You're pretty sure it's a pyment. Another taste confirms it.

“So if you speak spelltongue like a bad foreigner, how much better is your head wizard? It's almost appealing that I've only been thawed for a few months and I'm that much better than you who has studied for years, was it?”

Uncharacteristically, Avael's hands reach over and press against your cheeks as she replies in a rather mocking tone.

“Big bad barbarian make fun because he speak so good. Can still only use stupid ice magic.” She pulls back before you can snatch her wrist.

“Head Mage better than me. Not so good as you. Spelltongue old language, almost dead, only learn from rotten books now.”

You track her as she continues to circle around, ready at any moment to grab her if she gets close enough. To teach her not to tease you just because you're injured.

“So how do you all do magic if you can barely speak the language?” You frown and nearly snag her thigh before she darts away with a spin.

The fennec laughs before snatching a hard sausage from the table against the wall and brandishing it toward you like a sword, waving it around in front of you.
>>
“Big dumb barbarian. Spelltongue words not needed for magic. Spelltongue old language of Mages, not more.” She gets a bit too close and you manage to snatch the pig sword away from her with one quick snap of your arm. Though Avael reaches toward it quickly several times, you manage to keep it just out of her reach before taking a big bite off one end and chewing on the tough meat within.

You're actually surprised when you think you have the sausage just out of her reach when her nimble hands snag it and quickly pull half of it from your grip.

“You know I thought you had pretty bad reflexes. How did you even spot that beast before anyone else.”

Avael stops before standing up and placing one hand on her hip and pulling down an eyelid with her other.

“Fennec natural hunters. Good sight to find prey, good ears to hear them, good nose to sniff them out.”

You snort as you drink before setting the empty flagon aside near the tub.

“If you're a good hunter, I must be the best. How many of your people could kill that giant sea snake?”

“Hmph! Avael could have killed! Stupid metal ring just in way!” She holds up the collar with one hand, glowering down at it, before both of her ears seem to spring upright and her blue eyes turn to your own.

“You take off metal ring, Avael heal?” She points at your side with her other hand.

[ ] It's not like she has anywhere to go, it's worth a shot

[ ] Fluffy lies and tricks

[ ] Other
>>
>>35988626
>[ ] Fluffy lies and tricks
So fluffy.
>>
>>35988626
[ ] It's not like she has anywhere to go, it's worth a shot
But if you play me false i'll turn you into a foxcicle
>>
>>35988626
>[ ] It's not like she has anywhere to go, it's worth a shot
"But if you do a repeat performance of the last time you practised magic without the rings on then I will wear you as a hat."

Don't tell her that we'd only chain her up and plop her on top of our head to wear her like a hat.
>>
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The most important question: would you?
>>
>>35988697
If she looks as advertised from the pic in >>35982392 then hell yes I would
>>
>>35988697
would you a fox, /tg/?
>>
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>>35988722
A fox is fine too.
>>
>>35988626
>[ ] Fluffy lies and tricks
>>
Even though you heard her ask the first time, Avael must think you didn't, as she repeats the question twice more. The second time with just a twinge of annoyance as her tail swishes side to side anxiously.

“Now why the hell would I do that? You burned down an entire longship last time you were fed and not chained up with those things.” Your fingers nearly touch the collar before she pulls just slightly away.

“You too rude, Avael get angry. Not Avael's fault.”

Well, you may have been partially to blame for the last outburst.

“Yeah. But so far all I've seen you do is burn things. I'm no healer, but I'm pretty sure no amount of fire is going to fix a few bruises and cracked ribs.”

At the same time, you know that Grindstone would be rather adamantly against chancing another ship torching.
“Avael not just fire magic. Avael many kinds of magic, not like stupid ice barbarians.” She puts a few fingers against her chest and looks smug.

You'd like to retort, but really you and the other Frosts seem rather one-track magicians, you can't deny. Even being the current Vetr and all, you aren't capable of anything aside from snow and ice and cold.

The more you think about it, burning down the ship here wouldn't do her much good, if any. She might somehow rid herself of you, but in doing would earn the ire of every other Frost in the fleet. Many of whom would not be nearly so kind as you.

“I'll take it off, just for now. But if you try to trick me, I'll tie you to an anchor line and see what sort of sea monster finds you attractive bait.” Even as you speak, you raise a hand to the thin chain about your neck, its iron inlaid with small golden runes. At the end of the chain resting a small, silver key.

Avael steps forward just enough for you to insert the key into the collar and give it a few turns, before the lock relents and you slide the metal from her head.
>>
“Ahhhhh!!!” The small fennec stretches immediately, apparently reveling in the unshackled freedom, despite the cuffs still adorning both wrists. Those of the non-magical variety, and smithed perhaps a year or two ago rather than millenia, “So much better!”

“Now,” She places both hands on her hips and leans forward, “Show hurt.”

Without much to hesitate about, you get your feet under you and rise suddenly. Avael is still for only a split second before quickly turning her head away with a “Too fast!”

“Go lay down, Avael work.” She gets behind you and puts both hands on your back as though she means to push you onto the bed herself.

Relenting for once, you slide yourself onto the feather mattress and have the decency to cover yourself at least. You'd really prefer not to be dodging more fireballs in your current state.

The fennec has already busied herself by opening the shutters all the way on the window, to let in the sea air, before sparking up several more candles to further illuminate the small cabin. You watch, rather interested in the possibility of seeing new magic, while at the same time ready to avoid an inferno should it come to that.

With one of her hands, Avael sharply prods you in the side using two fingers.

“Ow.” You reply flatly.

“Oh hush, big baby.” Your captive clicks her tongue and this time rests the entirety of her hand on your side. You're well aware now that she could just as easily burn you through and through.

Her face contorts in thought as she slowly feels along each rib, deft fingers stopping at several cracks as she chews on her lower lip.

“Not so bad. Not take long.”
>>
“Not so bad. Not take long.”

You draw in a quick breath as you feel something warm seep through your skin, and glance down, expecting to see a forming fireball. Instead, there is no glow whatsoever. Just a soothing warmth that seems to make you a bit drowsy, though perhaps that is just the sharp pain subsiding.

“I honestly thought you were lying.”

“Mean. Avael told you, great magic.”

Though you aren't sure at how long it truly goes on, you can tell that you've nodded off more than once. Each time your head springing back up as though expecting to see yourself being roasted, or to see the fox is no longer there. Each time you're greeted by Avael raising an eyebrow and staring until you lay your head back down.

It happens again, only this time when you feel the warmth subsiding as her hand leaves your side.

And she pokes you yet again.

Though this time, no sharp pain.

You're still watching her as Avael stands back up to stretch yet again, as though tired, before she slides over the table and begins hungrily attacking a few hunks of bread and hard white cheese.

Lazily, feeling much better now, you look around the cabin, half-awake. Watching the candles flicker, Avael's ears twitch in delight, and shadows slide across the walls.

Shadows...

“Can you control shadows?” You ask, suddenly more alert and already reaching for the closest weapon to you, a long dagger beside the bed.

“Schwadows?” Avael ponders, cheeks stuffed and chewing.

Your fingers wrap around the hilt of the blade only a moment before a dagger presses against your wrist.

“Let go of the knife. Nyaww...”
>>
Seems like a good place to wrap up for the night. Have a paper I need to work on for tomorrow which I probably should have done first but I couldn't help myself.

If everything falls into place, I might be able to manage something over the weekend or so. Though I will be innawoods from the 14th to the 18th or so because it's Christmas with guns soon.
>>
>>35989225
Thanks for the thread. Have fun, stay safe mate.
>>
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>>35989225
Thanks for running, great as always.
>>
>>35989225
Thanks for running. Bag a turkey for me.
>>
>>35989173
so the one goddamn time it IS catgirls they want to kill us?
thanks obama
>>
>>35989225
thanks for running, also we have a cat on board now, hope we can cast flashfreeze.
>>
>>35989252
>>35989255
I was contemplating running one from my deer blind via tablet but I changed locations after my spot being worthless last season. The new blind has much more activity but is in a pretty nasty deep spot where I can't even get cell coverage, let alone 4G. Should be better hunting, though.

>>35989256
Turkey season is over, but I did get one this year with my bow at about 8 god damn feet. Turkeys are dumb. Also expandable heads at ~320fps punch softball sized exit wounds at that distance.

>>35989291
Cats cannot be trusted.
>>
>>35989358
>Turkey season is over
On the 14th, I mean. But I already filled the tag.

Not sure why it's limited to one tag considering they are everywhere. Same thing with Canadian geese and their tiny limits.
>>
>>35989225
Thanks for the thread Papa, stay safe out on your hunt.

How's it feel to finally see the HUEHUEHUE return?
>>
>>35989513
Like more rolls are required. Two 20's on one roll call is absolute heresy.
>>
Just woke up and suddenly, catgirls.

Good thing to wake up to.

>>35989532
More rolls are always good. The more the better.
>>
>>35982392
>>
>>35993324
What was the point of that post? This thread finished hours ago and your post contained nothing, not even was it saged.



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