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>>38753465
>"For fuck's sake. You aren't even dressed." [irritable]

>>38753465
>>"Jesus, when do you get up?" [exasperated]

>>38753465
>>Say nothing [stoic]

>>38753465
>>Say nothing [stoic]

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>>38753465
Fucking showers man

You grit your teeth and ignore Stupp’s subtle provocation. Cheating bastard is still in his pajamas, and from the greasy look of his hair hasn’t even showered yet. You silently pull out a bowl and fill it with cereal. Really it isn’t that bad, you suppose, it’s not like you haven’t fed Arn before. It’s not like you aren’t used to feeding Arn. You suppress a grimace and begin to eat your breakfast. Stupp coughs a little before speaking.

“Daud dropped off the stuff near the back door. Same cooler as always.”

You nod silently, focused more on the cereal in front of you. Eventually it’s all gone and you have to address the task at hand. Rising up, you decide to go out back and pick up Arn’s meal. As you leave you glance over at your housemate. He’s watching you, his smug expression at least partially deflated by your stoic response. You hurry outside into the bitter cold, and look around. Sure enough, there it is, a large blue cooler on the top back step. You open it and pull out a black trash bag, it’s contents disconcertingly warm and mushy.You step back inside and walk down the basement stairs.

Some people have nice, carpeted basements with heating and sofas. You don’t pay nearly enopugh in rent for one that nice. No, your basement is poured concrete walls and floor, the scent of musk lingers heavy in the air. You turn away from the washer/dryer unit in front of you. in the far corner of the room, something stirs.

>Toss Arn the bag and bolt [Arn will likely make a huge mess]
>Open the bag and hand it to him [Arn probably won’t make a huge mess, but you’ll have to linger down there]

>>38753950
>>Open the bag and hand it to him [Arn probably won’t make a huge mess, but you’ll have to linger down there]
What is the worst that could happen?

>>38753950
>Open the bag and hand it to him [Arn probably won’t make a huge mess, but you’ll have to linger down there]

Even if we puke it will be less cleanup than just tossing the bag.

You know tossing Arn the bag will leave a huge mess in the basement, the hard part is deciding whether or not Stupp will actually be willing to clean up the resulting mess or not. Eventually you decide that he’d make sure it’s your problem and untie the plastic bag. You curl your nose as the smell of cow offal wafts out. Holding the bag at arms length, you step towards the ritual circle chiseled into the concrete floor. Arn stands up out of the shadows with an excited grunt.

At five feet tall and as many wide, Arn is on the runtier side of things for a troll. His teeth, almost as green as the algae growing in his fur, are bared in a grin and he shuffles around excitedly on stumpy legs. You hold the bag away from Arn. “Morning Arn,” you say, waiting for his excitement to subside. After a few happy bounces, he calms down. “Griiisshhh,” he rumbles, an acceptable attempt at your name. Trolls are only barely sapient so even that grunt is pretty impressive. You hand Arn the bag.

You divert you gaze as Arn scoops out his breakfast. For a troll you suppose he has pretty good table manners, but there’s really no way that you can eat raw cow guts without being a little nauseating. At least this time you don’t have to hear him crack bones between those massive molars. Eventually he finishes eating and hands the bag to you. You take it gingerly and head upstairs.

You look around the kitchen and see that Stupp is still there, and just as unkempt as when you went down. Doesn’t he know you guys have an appointment in like an hour?

>Throw bag in trash.
>Throw bag on housemate.

>>38754371
>>Throw bag on housemate.
Roll for initiative?

>>38754434
Roll a 3d10

Rolled 6, 8, 3 = 17 (3d10)

>>38754488

Rolled 6, 8, 1 = 15 (3d10)

>>38754434
>>38754488

Rolled 1, 3, 8 = 12 (3d10)

>>38754488

You scowl. Stupp might’ve beaten you down, but only technically. He violated the spirit of your agreement by coming down right out of bed. You toss the bag into the air. It floats like a cloud, black with ominous contents. Stupp watches it as it nears his face like the people watching the nuclear explosion in Sarah Conner’s dream in Terminator 2. Uncomprehending of their onrushing fate. The bag settles on his head before gently landing on his shoulders. There is a second of silence.

“WHAT THE FUCK.”

Stupp’s voice bellows out from underneath the plastic before he tears it off, blood and bile smeared in his hair. You smirk a little. “Better hurry up and clean yourself off. We’ve got an appointment in an hour.”

The rage on Stupp’s face freezes and slides off, replaced by confusion. “Appointment…” he mumbles, frowning. Realization dawns suddenly. “Fuck, that was today,” he groans, running out of the kitchen. He stops by the door and leans back, glowering at you. “This isn’t over Chris.”

You wave him on as he pounds upstairs. You toss out the black trash bag and set about making sure the reception area/living room is presentable. After three quarters of an hour Stupp comes down, clean and dressed in business casual. You smile sweetly at him as he glowers at you, settling down into a chair parallel to your own, across from a wide leather couch. Just as he does so, the doorbell rings.

Stupp checks his phone and scowls. “She’s early.”

You sigh and stand up. “C’mon. Smile unless you want to scare away our first customer.”

Stupp makes one last face before rising. The pair of you answer the door.

A small, mousey haired woman with thick framed glasses looks up at the two of you. Stupp smiles down at her, all earlier irritation gone from his face. “Hello, I assume you are Ms. Svedson? Please come inside.”

The woman nods and steps in. You take her jacket as Stupp leads her to the couch. Eventually you sit back down. The pair of you watch Ashley Svedson as she fidgets uncomfortably. Eventually she speaks “So… so are you guys the… the uh…” her voice drops to an uncertain whisper. “Wizards?”

>”We prefer the term Extranatural Consultants.” [Professional]
>”You can think of us as consultants if you’d like.” [Reassuring]
>”What’s the problem?” [Direct]
>Write in

>>38754929
>>”We prefer the term Extranatural Consultants.” [Professional]
Wizards are goddamn autists with no sense of right or wrong...

Extranatural consultants on the other hand...

Decent concept so far... I'll stick around to see how it pans out, might even add it to the suptg list if it goes well.

>>38755009
I appreciate your interest anon. Thanks for letting me know that you're lurking.

>>38755009
correction, 1d4chan list.

Rolled 1, 10, 8 = 19 (3d10)

>>38754929
Wizards, sorcerer, magical consultants, arcane agents or hexing extraordinaires, those all work.

>>38754929
>A small, mousey haired woman with thick framed glasses looks up at the two of you.
From the moment she stepped into our office I knew she was trouble. I've sen the type. A mouse outside, a harpy once the chips are down. Such a woman could eat a man alive with a glance and strip him of all he was living for with a signgle whispered word off her suspiciously unglossed lips.

Stupp coughs, and I nod. Dangerous prey, that one, but in these times we couldn't be choosy.

Hell knows the debt collectors wouldn't be so forgiving next time.
>”You can think of us as consultants if you’d like.” [Reassuring]

You sit up and cross arch your fingers. “Actually, Ms. Svedson, we prefer the term Extranatural Consultants. We find that most of our clients prefer the term as well.”

Stupp snorts. “Wizards are autists who couldn’t even manage to get laid before thirty. We’re far more grounded. Why did you schedule an appointment today?”

Ashley Svedson looks slightly taken aback by your partner’s response. Clearly she has no appreciation for dank memes. “Well I… uh… Mr. Stupp,” she glances over at you, clearly more comfortable with you than your somewhat hostile partner, “And uh… Missserrrrisst-”

You smile kindly. People often have trouble deciding which flavor of address to use for you. “Just Chris.”

Ashley nods. “Alright Chris. I’m an ice sculptor. And recently there’s been a lot of… accidents... unnatural stuff,” she blurts, clearly a little unsure of the fact that she’s here in the first place, “A lot of people have been injured… you’ve probably seen the KSTP report on it, right?”

You glance over at your partner, his face uncomprehending. You guys don’t watch much TV in the first place, and the local channels are like 90% high school sports. “I’m terribly sorry Ms. Svedson, I’m afraid I haven’t seen the report.”

Ashley swallows slightly and nods. “Oh, okay then. Basically there has been a bunch of accidents among ice sculptors. Three really bad ones in the past two weeks! My co-worker was hurt just yesterday. The news vans showed up and interviewed me about it. I wouldn’t think much of it but it’s right before the festival and…”

Her voice trails off. Clearly she needs some prompting to get a clear story.

>What can you tell us about these accidents?
>Have all these accidents been ice sculptors? Can you please tell us some more about the community?
>What’s this about a festival?
>Write in

Rolled 4, 6, 8 = 18 (3d10)

>>38755323
>>What can you tell us about these accidents?
Did they involve obviously supernatural stuff, like ghosts, flying objects or clowns?

>>What’s this about a festival?
Is it a spooooooky festival?

>>38755323
>What can you tell us about these accidents?
>Have all these accidents been ice sculptors? Can you please tell us some more about the community?

We have no idea what shes even talking about, knowing at least a bit of information on the incidents would be nice, especially since she is confident they are extranatural.

“Let’s start from the basics Ms. Svedson,” you say, slightly irritated. Why would she assume you guys knew anything about ice sculptors or a winter festival. “What is this about ice sculptors and a festival?”

Ashley nods. “Okay. Well As you guys know, there’s a winter festival downtown during the last week of January. It’s only like five days away now.”

You and Stupp nod, vaguely recalling someone mentioning something about a festival while you were in undergrad. “And at the end of the festival, there’s an ice sculpting competition. The winning team gets $5,000 as a cash prize.”

“Wait wait wait wait,” interrupts Stupp, holding a hand up. “You think there’s a chance someone is doing something probably magical to inflict what I assume is grievous bodily harm on ice sculptors for five grand? Seems like overkill, yeah?”

Ashley shakes her head. “It’s not about the money, mostly. Most teams carve ice professionally, like wedding sculptures. A win is great for business. Heck, Eric Flahive won four times in a row a few years back, and he’s loaded now.”

“Alright,” you respond, thinking to yourself. “So I assume that the sculptors in question were all on other teams?”

Ashley nods. “Yes. Josh McKinney and Jessica Turtle are both the head sculptors I guess for their teams. And…” her voice catches slightly, “and Jon is the head of our team.”

“Very well,” you say nodding, “it does seem slightly suspicious that there have been three separate people on three separate teams have all been injured. How were they injured?”

Ashley looks a little frightened. “Well I heard that Josh slipped on the ice and broke his arm in the fall. That wasn’t too weird. But then like two days later Jessica’s chisel slipped. Apparently she stabbed right through her own hand!”

Both of you grimace. “And what about Jon?”

Ashley swallows, staring down at her lap. “We make our sculptures out of these huge ice blocks. They weigh like several hundred pounds each. Jon was… Jon was…” the rest comes out in a rush. “He was guiding a block into place and it slipped and it crushed his hand!”

“Jesus,” mutters Stupp, rubbing his neck. Your hands squeeze shut convulsively. “Is- is he okay?”

Ashley shakes her head. “I don’t know. He’s in the hospital right now. Broke all the bones in his right hand.”

Well, this does sound rather odd.

>Are there any teams that haven’t been affected yet?
>Who is Eric Flahive?
>Where did these accidents take place?
>Have you reported it to the police?
>When did these accidents take place?
>Can you show us any of these accidents?
>Write in?

Rolled 9, 4, 7 = 20 (3d10)

>>38755803
>>Are there any teams that haven’t been affected yet?

>Who is Eric Flahive?

Could we meet some of the victims, there might be traces of whatever curse affecting them left.

Rolled 9, 2, 10 = 21 (3d10)

>>38755803
>All the "accidents" leave people alive but with crippled arms/hands, presumably their dominant ones.

Yeah, that's some fishy shit right there.

>Where did these accidents take place?

Rolled 1, 9, 4 = 14 (3d10)

>>38755803
>Are there any teams that haven’t been affected yet?
possible targets and or suspects

“Alright. I’ve got two questions. And one of those will require going to the scene of the accident. First of all, who is Eric Flahive?”

Ashley nods. “Eric Flahive is a really great sculptor, and he’s very personable. He used to work with a man named Andrew Quinn who’s also really talented but somewhat misanthropic. He’s in charge of a really large studio. They and Andrew are the only ones who haven’t been injured yet by whoever is doing this.”

“So, the only two teams left who can compete for the win is Eric’s Sculptors and Andrew’s team?”

“Yeah. Except Andrew doesn’t have a team. He really doesn't get along well with other people. He’s really abrasive. Apparently he got really bad after he split ways with Eric. This was right before Eric had a major breakthrough and won all those festivals so I suppose it makes sense that he’s bitter.”

You and Stupp glance at each other. “Well this definitely stinks,” grunts Stupp, rubbing his nose. “Do you think you can take us to the site of one of the accidents? Preferably one where things haven’t been moved around too much.”

“Sure I can. Jon was injured in our outdoor studio. I don’t think they’ve moved anything yet. I can lead you guys there.”

You both agree with Ashley’s suggestion and see her out to her car before heading into the garage and climbing into a worn out Accord. Stupp takes the wheel, since it’s his car.

As you roll out Stupp glances over at you. “So, whaddya think?”

>Could just be a coincidence.
>That Andrew Quinn guy sounds shady, and he’s got a grudge. We should investigate him later.
>We can’t overlook Eric Flahive. We should try to scope out his place later.
>If this is really magic, who ever is doing this is a pretty powerful mage.

>>38756307
>>If this is really magic, who ever is doing this is a pretty powerful mage.

Any fool that can cast a spell can disable an arm or two, but it takes real skill to be subtle enough to not make people think it's magic.

Alternatively, All of this could be the work of a third party that has some unknown agenda that relies on a certain outcome of the festival.

Rolled 10, 3, 6 = 19 (3d10)

>>38756307
It stinks, but I really have no idea who could have done it.

Logically, Eric doesn't need it and Andrew would have targeted Eric first.

>>38756307
>>If this is really magic, who ever is doing this is a pretty powerful mage.

>>38753465
USE YOUR TWITTER YA GIT

“Overlooking the possibility that there’s some third party at work here it’s gotta be either Eric or Andrew. It’s just neither one makes much sense. Eric doesn’t need to to do any of this, and Andrew would have presumably gone after Eric first.”

Stupp shrugs. “Maybe Andrew was just practicing on those first few people. Wants to save his real show for Eric.”

“Yeah and that said,” you reply, rubbing your hands together, the Accord’s heater isn’t the best, “Someone powerful enough to make these accidents happen, or at least the last one. I think we would have detected them by now, or at least the signs of them gathering aether for the casting.”

Stupp shakes his head. “Those first two spells weren’t anything too special, if they were rituals, which seems likely. That last one… maybe. Depends on how big the block of ice is.”

It’s your turn to shrug. “Well perhaps. I mean this is all a moot point if we show up there and we can’t find any evidence of a cruse.”

Stupp nods. “True enough. But you don’t really think that, do you?”

“No, not really.”

The rest of the ride passes in silence until you see Ashley pull off into the parking lot of a large warehouse. Stupp follows her, pulling into the spot next to hers. The two of you climb out. Ashley smiles wanly and spread out her arms “And this is Metro Ice Unlimited. Sorry if we aren’t taking any order today.”

Both of you laugh politely and follow her into the building through a side entrance. It’s substantially warmer in here than outside.

Still below freezing though.

It doesn’t take long to see the scene of the metaphysical crime. “Christ on a fuckin’ cracker,” mumbles Stupp, staring at the scene.

A massive block of ice lies near to a stout wooden table,the massive block roughly 5 feet long by 4 feet wide. Between the table and the block is an ominous red stain. As the two of you walk towards it you realize that this isn’t a blood stain, but rather a pool of frozen blood. The two of you glance at one another.

>Use the Sight
>Tell Stupp to use the Sight. He made you feed Arn after all.

>>38756973
you're not my mom!

Rolled 9, 5, 2 = 16 (3d10)

>>38757026
>>Use the Sight
Try to find traces of scary spirit clowns.

>>38757044
Eat your veggies

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No I will not eat da vegitables

>>38757026
>>Tell Stupp to use the Sight. He made you feed Arn after all.

Rolled 6, 3, 7 = 16 (3d10)

>>38757026
>>Use the Sight
better to one up that prick

>>38757216
>>38757118
I'll just be using those rolls.

Rolled 1, 9, 7 = 17 (3d10)

>>38757445
we need to roll?

No I will not eat anytimg

You glance over at Stupp. The guy might have a much more refined grasp of the Sight than you, but that doesn’t mean you need him to hold your hand through the investigations. You take a few deep breaths and open your metaphorical third eye.

If what you were taught in elementary school was true, humans have five senses. Touch, taste, hearing, sight, and smell. According to that psych class you took, humans have a few extra, like proprioception, the sense of where all your limbs are. Magically capable humans have an extra sense on top of all of those, called the Sight. An ability to perceive aether, the all pervasive background radiation that empowers magical phenomena. The Sight is a sense rather like all five of the big ones working all at once, except for aetheric phenomena. Most mages avoid using the Sight unless they absolutely have to. For one reason, it can be a disorienting experience. For another, if there’s something nasty in the aether detecting it with the Sight is like plunging your head into a bucket of shit with your mouth wide open.

In this convoluted metaphor, the area around the pool of frozen blood is the bucket of shit.

You quickly leave the Sight and collapse onto the warehouse floor, retching. Stupp quickly squats down next to you. “That bad huh?”

Ashley’s face lights up with a strange sort of excitement. “You’re serious, I mean there really was… m-m-magic?”

Stupp nods as he pats you on the back. “Chris isn’t bulimic. That right there was genuine retching. Must have been one nasty curse worked here.”

You nod, in confirmation, straightening up. “I think you should look into it Stupp. It looks like it was a ritual, but I can’t really tell much.”

Stupp grimaces and activates his own Sight. You watch in fascination as his pupils grow small, before expanding to fill his eyes. After a few seconds he too deactivates his Sight, gagging slightly.

“Well shit.”

You glance over at Ashley. Stupp has a much more refined Sight than you do, and as such may be able to provide more information than you were able to gather. However, this might not be an appropriate topic of conversation for mundane ears. Perhaps the two of you should go somewhere slightly more private to discuss this.

>Tell Ashley you are going to investigate Eric
>Tell Ashley you are going to investigate Andrew
>Tell Ashley you will transcend to to Spirit World to scout around (actually just go home)

Rolled 4, 6, 1 = 11 (3d10)

>>38757785

>Tell Ashley you are going to investigate Eric

He's probably innocent and Andrew is the culprit, but he probably has some insights to give us.

That or a good giggle.

>>38757785
>Tell Ashley you will transcend to to Spirit World to scout around (actually just go home)

>>38757785
>Tell Ashley you are going to investigate Andrew

Ok then

>>38757889
Three way tie is best way tie.

Rolled 7, 2, 2 = 11 (3d10)

>>38757785
>>Tell Ashley you will transcend to to Spirit World to scout around (actually just go home)

Couldn't I just go to the spirit world instead

>>38758182
MC cannot into spirit world.

Also, the Spirit World, better known as the Firmament is an absurdly hostile place for human beings.

>>38758212
So... what you are saying is ghost waifu never?

>>38758242
No ghost waifu, but we are meatspace waifu, we just need to find a good and worthy meatspace husbando

“Yeah Ashley, I think that we’re going to have to go to the third intersection point of the multiverses to see if we can tackle this problem from the spirit realms.”

Ashley’s eyes go wide and she nods a little. “Okay.”

“So I think this is where we part ways. We’ll contact you if we discover anything. We’re hourly, 50 bucks per hours of consulting work. This is officially the end of your free consultation, okay?”

Ashley nods, then pulls out a checkbook. “Alright, how long?”

“Uh, let’s start with 15 hours and work our way from there.”

You leave the studio, holding the check reverently in your hands. An easy $750 just like that. Beautiful. You and Stupp climb into the car and drive off, heading back home. Ashley gave you the addresses of both Eric and Andrew before you went your separate ways, as well as the dates of the separate accidents. January 7, 15, and 21, just yesterday. The two of you drive in silence until you speak up, turning to face Stupp.

“So, what did you see there?”

>>38758242
Nonsense, we'll just have to acquire said ghost waifu in the physical world is all. Or be less human, I guess

Stupp’s lip curls in obvious distaste. “Classic dark magic. And sloppily done at that.”

You cock your head. “How so?”

Stupp shudders slightly. “Nothing leaves that big a stain in the aether, even just a day afterward, unless there was a major summoning or whoever designed the spell didn’t know what in the tits they were doing. And since Beelzebub isn’t terrorizing the streets, I’m going to have to assume the later. Which is a cause for concern all on it’s own.”

“How so?”

Stupp grimaces. “That might not necessarily have been the most powerful spell ever, but by god did it leave a huge mark in the aether. I’d hate to face someone with that much ambient power if they actually knew what they were doing with it.”

“But that doesn’t make sense. If they were as powerful as you said they are wouldn’t we have noticed them? The metaphorical rumbling of their footsteps?”

Stupp shakes his head. “I don’t know. Maybe Edith does. You wanna swing by her place?”

Edith Knopp, your landlady and former magic instructor. She’s the one who put the troll in the basement, and still refuses to say why. She means well, but she’s a little… stern. There was one time she forced you to drink vinegar to soothe a sore throat. It worked about as well as could be expected.

>Visit Edith
>Don’t isit Edith

>>38758355
>Or be less human, I guess
yeah nah lets not do that

>>38758371
>Visit Edith

Rolled 5, 3, 5 = 13 (3d10)

>>38758371
>>Visit Edith

>>38758371
>>Visit Edith
Eh, why not. Nothing is more dangerous than an idiot with super powers, especially if they don't know basic skills. I mean thats how you accidentally explode yourself isn't it?

>>38758409
THATS HOW YOU GET ANTS LANA

>>38758371
>Don’t visit Edith
Eh, we can probably leave that 'how' alone for now. We may find more mysteries while looking into the 'who' and 'why' that require her expertise, and consolidating trips sounds less inconvenient.

>>38758371
WELCOME BACK SENPAI, I ONLY JUST SAW.

Anyhow, now that I got that out of my system...

>Visit Edith

Rolled 10, 9, 3 = 22 (3d10)

>>38758371
>Visit Edith

>>38758467
I will always notice you anon. It's good to be back. Thanks everyone for coming out to support this inaugural thread by the way.

Rolled 8, 7, 8 = 23 (3d10)

>>38758574
Will killdozer-sempai notice me?

Well, since you don’t have a sore throat this time (it was strep by the way, so the vinegar did literally NOTHING to help) you figure that there can’t be any harm in visiting your eccentric landlady. “Fine, we’ll visit Edith,” you grumble. “Does this count as billable hours?”

“You fuckin’ know it,” replies Stupp, grinning. “Besides I need a new skein of yarn.”

A few minutes later, Stupp pulls in front of a non-descript yarn shop. The two of you climb out, and hurry out of the cold and into the shop. The shop is warm and cramped, with skeins of yarn stacked and stored in every possible nook and cranny. You stand in the shop, somewhat overwhelmed, until Stupp squeezes past you. “Hey Edith,” he calls, “we got a question for you.”

An elderly and exceptionally fat woman appears from the back of the shop, her eyes narrow at the sight of the two of you, but she fails to completely suppress a smile. She approaches the pair of you, managing to avoid knocking over the crammed displays with her planetary ass. “Why hello there Chris and Chris. I certainly didn’t expect to see one of you two in here so soon.”

Stupp smiles and gives Edith a hug. She’s the only one pretty much who calls him by his first name, and it’s something he appreciates. Also the discounted yarn. Edith breaks off the embrace and nods at you. You return the favor. Crazy fucking vinegar quaffing bitch.

“So I assume this is something that we shouldn’t let normal patron hear about?” sighs Edith, somehow managing to slip past the pair of you and to the front door. Stupp shakes his head. “No, it’s magical shit.”

Edith tut tuts. “Language Mr. Stupp,” she says as she puts up a sign that reads OUT TO LUNCH.

The three of you head to the counter, and Edith takes a seat behind the cash register. “So, what is it?”

You and Stupp quickly relay the events thus far regarding the rash of mysterious accidents and the scar of dark magics in the aether at one of the sites. “...So the attacks happened yesterday, and on the 15th and 7th,” finishes Stupp.

Edith sits back in the chair, the chair itself creaking ominously in protest. “Hmm. If there was a mage powerful enough to leave such a mark in the aether I would have surely detected him. And even if not, he would not be so powerful without also learning how to use his magics effectively.”

There is a pregnant pause, and for once it isn’t due to Edith’s food baby. After a few seconds you realize this is one of those freaking teachable moments.

>”So obviously his power doesn’t come from himself. That’s all I’ve got.”
>Roll a 3d10 to not look like an idiot. DC:26

Rolled 5, 6, 3 = 14 (3d10)

>>38759022
>Roll a 3d10 to not look like an idiot. DC:26

Rolled 6, 7, 6 = 19 (3d10)

>>38759022
>>Roll a 3d10 to not look like an idiot. DC:26
EVIL ARTIFACT AHOY

>>38759022
>>”So obviously his power doesn’t come from himself. That’s all I’ve got.”
No fucking way in hell we're going to make a DC of 26

>>38759088
>>38759098
>>38759101
Like I said, no hope in hell we can make that DC

Rolled 2, 8, 10 = 20 (3d10)

>>38759022
>”So obviously his power doesn’t come from himself. That’s all I’ve got.”
She ain't a client. She knows more about these things than we do, so there's no reason to play things up. If anything, pretending we know more might get a vinegar-esque treatment.

>>38759132
...fudge, forgot to remove the roll after I decided which way to vote. Bleh.

Rolled 2, 4, 8 = 14 (3d10)

Teachable moments are the worst. You always come out looking like a complete idiot when the quicker way would be to just tell me what I'm missing. Crazy vinegar-loving bitch.

Rolled 4, 2, 6 = 12 (3d10)

>>38759022
That can only mean one thing.

Fairy god parents!

Rolled 1, 5, 1 = 7 (3d10)

>>38759022
>Roll a 3d10 to not look like an idiot. DC:26
Deal with the devil gooooo

>>38759230
My guess is leaning more towards some sort of gradual buildup that caused a 'pop' of aetheric phenomena. Like, a water balloon at the end of a hose that's slowly filling it up, rather than someone coming in with a modified high-power super-soaker and blasting the area in a moment.

>>38759320
That would also fit with how the nastiness of the accidents has been increasing.

Now, important question: how long before we Dresden a building?

You sigh. You woke up at 7:30 today. This isn’t really the best time for a teachable moment. Eventually you take a stab in the dark. “Uh, well I suppose whoever is doing this isn’t drawing power from himself but an external source.”

Edith nods. “Very good. What might his external source be then?”

“Uhhhhhh... Demons?”

Edith’s look of approval quickly transforms into one of scorn. “As if the infernal forces would align themselves with someone as sloppy as you two claim he is. No. What was the temperature yesterday?”

Stupp scratches the back of his head. “With windchill? Minus 40 or so.”

“Exactly,” nods Edith. “And the temperature on the 15th? on the 7th?”

Neither of you can recall, so you check your phones. “7th was round about the same as yesterday.”

You also respond. “Same with the 15th. Nearly 45 below with windchill.”

Edith nods. “Yes. The spells seem to have happened on the same days as extreme cold fronts moved in. So that means…”

Stupp claps his head. “Oh of course. He’s a naturist. He draws power from natural phenomena. In this case winter storms. I just didn’t think of it because its pretty much always thunderstorms that people use, not cold fronts.”

Edith nods. “Yes. This seems to be a classic cryomancer naturist. If your descriptions of the crimes are accurate, the mage in question has a good control of ice and uses natural phenomena like storms, or in his case cold fronts, to power his magic.”

Classic cryomancer naturist? First fuckin time you’ve heard of that shit. Would it have been that hard for the crazy old bitch to come out and say that in the first place? You stand up. “Well thanks a lot of your help Edith, I think we’ve gotten a huge lead on a potential suspect.”

Edith cocks an eyebrow but let’s the two of you go. You haul Stupp out of the shop and into the cold air. He jerks his arm out of your hand and scowls. “C’mon Chris. I haven’t gotten my skein yet.”

“Get the skein on your own time, you know I don’t much care for her.”

Stupp nods and clambers back into the Accord. You join him. “Where to now, commander?”

>Alexander
>Eric

Rolled 2 (1d2)

>>38759484
don't really know so I'll let dice decide, 1 for Alex, 2 for Eric

Rolled 7, 3, 2 = 12 (3d10)

>>38759484
eric

>>38759484
>Alex

He's either the next victim, or more likely, the source of the problem.

>>38759484
>Split up, each of us hits one of them.

Rolled 2, 5, 5 = 12 (3d10)

>>38759484
>>Eric
Andrew is the obvious crazy crackpot mage

>>38759516
>>38759547
>both rolled 12

Senpai, why did you give us loaded dice?

Rolled 8, 7, 4 = 19 (3d10)

>>38759556
Because we have been naughty

>>38759484
>Andrew Queen

>>38759547
I dunno, would explain a lot if Eric's the cryomancer.

>>38759628
...Quinn, even. I guess I've got sugarplums dancing in my head still.

Hey everybody, due to a combination of first thread fatigue and alcohol I think I'll be calling it a night after this scene. This scene could be two, probably 3+ updates though.

Next thread tomorrow. My twitter account is here: https://twitter.com/DickishDead

if you want to follow it for updates.

>>38759737
>Next thread tomorrow
you spoil us senpai

“I mean, it’s a bit obvious outside of the whole why didn’t he sic Eric yet angle, but we should look into Andrew. He seems to be the most likely suspect in all of this.”

Stupp nods. “Yeah, that makes the most sense honestly.”

He starts up the car and heads off in roughly the direction of the address that Ashley gave you. A half hour later you arrive in front of a large, worn down old house. You can hear a chainsaw running in the backyard behind a large pickup truck. You glance over at Stupp, who is clearly uncomfortable at the prospect of meeting a potential dark mage armed with a chainsaw. You sigh and take point. It’s only fair really. Stupp is a powerful theurgist, also known as ritualist. Given enough time and a ritual circle he could move worlds. You on the other hand, you are a master of incantation, the use of words of power for create aetheric phenomena. Need someone to throw a fireball? You’re the one. So you suppose it makes sense if Stupp quails behind you.

You walk around the house and into the back yard, where a man dressed in heavy winter clothing works a large chainsaw on a block of ice. You call out a few times before he finally turns around, the chainsaw revving down into an awkward silence.

“Hey, are you Andrew Quinn?”

“Yeah. Who wants to know?”

>”We’re here to investigate the recent slew of injuries among ice sculptors”
>”We’re here to order a sculpture.” [Warning! May have to pay shekels for sculpture]

>>38759966
>>”We’re here to investigate the recent slew of injuries among ice sculptors”

I dun wanna shell out muh shekels.

>>38759966
>”We’re here to inquire about getting a sculpture.”

go for a quote first, then if we absolutely must, go through with the order, but don't cough up the shekels without a fight

>>38759966
>>”We’re here to investigate the recent slew of injuries among ice sculptors”
Claim to be journalists analyzing just how potentially dangerous it is to work in the sculptor business

where'd the others go?

>>38760199
it's getting late. Pretty soon I'll be turning in too.

“And this is Chris Barker,” finishes Stupp. Never reveal your true name to a potential dark mage.

“Yes and we’re here with the Star Tribune to get an interview about the recent rash of accidents among ice sculptors. Do you have time for an interview, perhaps even a photo session for the Tribune?”

“No.”

Well that was abrupt. You glance at Stupp. “Not even a short blurb, Mr. Quinn? I’ve heard the ice sculpting community is very close to one another. Surely the accidents have had some sort of impact on you sir?”

Andrew Quinn scowls. “The only impact they’ve had is confirming my prior belief that all sculptors in this city are a bunch of half assed hacks who wouldn’t know their way around a pick if someone shoved it up their ass.”

Well that was certainly a bit of imagery right there. You attempt a different tact. Perhaps you might be able to get more of a reaction from him if you mention Eric Flahive. “SSir, of the five professional teams participating in the Winter Festival, only you and Eric Flahive’s team remain unscathed. Do you have any comments on that?”

Andrew Quinn, at this point already halfway up the stairs into his back door, turns around, a look of ominous anger on his face. “If Eric Flahive,” he spits the name out like an oath, “and his crew of happy little elves have managed to avoid this little rash of accidents, I can only hope that they get ten times worse what the other groups have gotten so far! Good day!”

And with that he slams the door shut to his house, leaving you and Stupp standing out in the cold.

Stupp turns to look at you. “Well that wasn’t slightly suspicious at all now as it?"

>>38759999
Nice quads

Alright guys, so that's all I'll be able to write tonight. The beer and vodka are starting to take a significant toll on me. Like I said, thread tomorrow, and I'll be more than happy to field any questions you might have. No need to worry about suptg, I think we'll just use archive moe from here on out, less of a risk of misarchvation.

Thanks again for participating in this thread today and I'd love some feedback.

>>38760340
Thanks for running FG, good to see you back.

>No need to worry about suptg
Well screw you I'll archive it anyway.

>>38760364
hahaha alright then, you do you mang.

>>38760340
thanks for running senpai, how were the pancakes?

how did you escape from blowjobanon?

>>38760429
It was a tale of derring do. I ended up saving up my loads until they blasted out with enough force to render blowjobanon unconscious. At that point I made my escape.

>>38760393
Archive is up: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive.html?tags=Extranatural%20Consultant%20Quest