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She releases you, sliding her hand back up to your abdomen and letting it rest there. “I think I'm going to get some sleep.” She announces, the exhaustion creeping back into her tone. “I'll expect breakfast in bed tomorrow. Eggs Benedict.”

Night fell several hours ago, though you didn't notice at the time. It occurs to you that tomorrow is your last day in the states. You set off the day after for Antarctica, to track a professor who's probably frozen to death. You also plan on killing and eating the man who shot you and forced you to sell your soul to the Grim Reaper, or Satan, or whoever you sold your soul to. However, that's a secondary goal.

You never actually got to bind a spirit, as you'd set out to, when you went wandering through the woods surrounding your home earlier. Nor are you tired. You could probably sleep if you forced yourself to, but really you feel like there are better ways available to spend your time.

>You should go out hunting for spirits to bind or consume, you need to expand your arsenal if you hope to kill that asshole Robert
>You should investigate your various spirit-imbued weapons, the crow dagger and Gewehr '98
>Maybe you should do some research on this Professor? What he specialized in, and what he was researching.
>Ehhh... you'll deal with it tomorrow. Get some sleep.
>Write-in

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>>43093283
>Maybe you should do some research on this Professor? What he specialized in, and what he was researching

>>43093283
>Maybe you should do some research on this Professor? What he specialized in, and what he was researching.

Prep>Power.

>>43093283
>You should investigate your various spirit-imbued weapons, the crow dagger and Gewehr '98

>>43093283
>Crow dagger and Gewehr
>Also see what our bindings do, what are the limits of our flame manipulation, for instance, can we force Gluts to talk to us?

>>43093283
>leaves us over us getting a job
>we fuck her brains out
>demands breakfast in bed
This nigga

>>43093415
At least the characterization is consistent.

>>43093415
>not even preggers
FUCKING
MAD
AS
FUCK
DOOD

>>43093430
Soma sure does write lovable chracters

>>43093283
>>You should investigate your various spirit-imbued weapons, the crow dagger and Gewehr '98

>>43093304
>>43093319
>Study up this professor guy.

>>43093356
>>43093375
>>43093603
>Investigate weapons and also powers.

Writin'

>LQ
FINALLY

The memory of your time in that strange realm of spirits is still fresh in your mind, as is the image of Sylvana's head splitting open and a massive worm-like creature sliding out of her empty neck. Your thoughts turn to that dagger she gifted you, shaped like a crow's beak. It seemed perfectly mundane at first, but you have trouble believing that creatures such as Sylvana would offer anything resembling normal gifts.

Then there's the old rifle you bought off an illegal weapon's dealer a few days ago. The Spirit of War which dwells within is undoubtedly powerful, and apparently friendly, but you don't actually know much about it. Nor is the spirit bound to obey your will, but merely a free agent. You should endeavor to find out more about it.

You slide reluctantly out from underneath the covers, pausing only to silence Claire's fervent complaint with a kiss, and go about the task of collecting your clothes up off the floor. Once changed back into your sweatpants and t-shirt you open up the closet. It's currently packed to the gills with guns, ammunition, and supplies but everything you need is near the front.

You grab your rifle and your dagger, turning to find your wife frowning at you from the bed. She's propped herself up on her elbows, her moderate bust freed from underneath the covers. Rather than scolding, her voice is filled with concern. “Are you sure you're going to be okay, Don? I swear to God I'll drag your sorry ass back from hell if you go and die on me.”

Joke's on her, you already died once and came back to life once. You're not sure if the place you ended up was Hell, but it certainly wasn't pleasant.”

(1/2)

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You smile softly. “I'm sure I'll be find, honey. I'm going to take some time to clean my rifle, just in case, but I honestly don't think I'll have any reason to fire it. What threats could I possibly face in Antarctica, of all places? It's about as barren as can be.” You've kept the knife half hidden behind your leg, since it'd be a little harder to explain than a centuries old firearm.

Claire flops back onto the mattress, dragging the covers up to her neck and sighing. “Knock on wood, Donny. Might as well ask what could possibly go wrong.”

You rap your knuckles briefly along the wood of the closet door, but honestly you think she's just being paranoid. At worst you'll discover a bunch of corpses. Wandering into the hall you carefully close the door behind you, then start down the stairs towards your living room. Plopping down on the couch you find yourself wondering where to begin.

>First try to call forth the spirit of War which dwells in your rifle.
>Experiment with the crow dagger a bit before anything else.
>Your first priority should be getting a better grasp on the powers of your binds.
>Gluttony has been giving you a lot of trouble lately, you should see if you can communicate with him.
>Write-in

>>43094322
>First try to call forth the spirit of War which dwells in your rifle.
German lessons? German lessons

>>43094322
>Your first priority should be getting a better grasp on the powers of your binds.

>>43094322
>Experiment with the crow dagger a bit before anything else.

>>43094322
>Your first priority should be getting a better grasp on the powers of your binds.

>>43094322
>that blade
Pretty top tier tbh, assuming I have my mythos right

>>43094322
>>First try to call forth the spirit of War which dwells in your rifle.

>>43094322
>>Your first priority should be getting a better grasp on the powers of your binds.

>>43094487
>>43094396
>>43094370
>Experiment with bindings.

>>43094365
>>43094479
>Call on War

>>43094390
>Try out the dagger.

Writin' for experiments with bindings.

>>43094517
nice totemist quest ripoff faggot

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>>43095310
Thanks Anon, I try my best.

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>>43095310
>implying Totemist Quest was the first quest to be based around spirits/gaining power from spirits

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You snap your fingers, watching a tongue of flame rise from the tip of your thumb. It doesn't burn, though it is quite warm. You let it burn for a while before clenching your thumb in a fist, snuffing out the flame. It occurs to you that your bindings are still more or less a mystery, you don't really know much about what you're capable of besides creating small flames and crossing vast distances in seconds.

Unfortunately your living room isn't really a place to start throwing around fire. Rising to your feet you wander briefly into the kitchen to secure a glass of water, just in case you need to put something out, and then head out to your backyard. You're going to need to be careful to avoid attracting Claire's attention, but it's better than burning your house down.

You start off with the simple stuff, pushing your hand towards the ground and focusing on what you remember of that flaming skeletal elk who tried to kill you when you took your dog to the vet shortly after coming back from the dead. You will flame to spew forth from your palm and for your efforts are rewarded with a veritable flamethrower. You're a little caught off guard, frankly.

The fire strikes the brick patio and blooms across the clay surface, you're quick to stop the stream of fire from your palm but you've succeeded in scorching a perfect ring of black soot onto your otherwise spotless patio. You're lucky you didn't set the lawn furniture on fire, nor your own clothes.
(1/3)

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That's curious, actually. You're pretty sure your socks were completely submerged in flame at one point. To test a theory you hold your hand flush against your chest and will the fire into existence. As expected it rolls across your chest, leaving you perfectly unharmed, but also failing to burn your shirt. Perhaps your protection from flame extends to what you're wearing?

You point to a spot of grass in your yard and once more spew fire from your fingertip, waiting until the grass catches before stopping the jet of flame. You watch for a while, willing the fire to go out. It takes greater effort, and greater concentration, than creating flame but eventually you manage to extinguish the burning patch of grass.

You try a few other things as well, like gathering fire in one hand and hurling it like a baseball at the fence. It explodes rather spectacularly, scorching the paint off the wood. You also discover that you seem to have some limited control over your own body temperature, because by focusing on warming yourself you gradually started to feel like the air around you was terribly cold. You essentially can give yourself fevers at will, an ability that will probably come in handy in Antarctica.

It's curious to note that when you warmed yourself, the brand on your forearm you attained after you subdued the Burning Buck glowed brightly. You're not sure if others would be able to see that, or only you.

Gluttony proves a little harder to figure out. He's your only other binding, but he's less than cooperative and other than granting you the ability to Step you have no idea what his brand does for you. You try thinking about what it is a gluttonous person might do, but if his only power is the ability to eat vast amounts then he's sort of useless.
(2/3)

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You discover the power of the brand almost by accident When you lean against the fence and your hand passes straight through the wood. Knocked off balance you fall, twisting your arm oddly in its socket before you hit the ground. When you look up at the hole you've created in the fence you find that it's shaped exactly like your hand.

Curious you set your hand against the ground, burying it amidst the grass. This time when you focus on gluttony the grass starts to wilt, rapidly shifting in color from green to brown before eventually crumbling to dust. It seems like you're not so much dissolving anything as you are sucking the life out of it. You might even feel a little stronger as a result, but you're not sure.

You try grabbing your own wrist with the opposite hand and activating the power of the brand. As you expected, nothing happens. You don't feel weakened or drained, and when you release your own wrist it's as normal as ever.

So you can throw fire and apparently turn living things into dust, maybe consuming their strength in the process. You can also teleport, and apparently you have the boundless stamina of a marathon runner. You wonder... could you consume a corpse with Gluttony's power to avoid needing to cook and eat another human every month? You'd still need to kill them, but with Gluttony you might not need to kill them in so brutal a fashion.

>You should find something alive to try out Gluttony's power on.
>No, that would be cruel. Just call upon the spirit of war in your rifle as you'd planned.
>That crow dagger is really bugging you, it must do something. Otherwise, why would that spirit even give it to you?
>Write-in

>>43095555
>That crow dagger is really bugging you, it must do something. Otherwise, why would that spirit even give it to you?
Mystery box go.

>>43095555
>>You should find something alive to try out Gluttony's power on.

>>43095555
>That crow dagger is really bugging you, it must do something. Otherwise, why would that spirit even give it to you?

>>43095555
>That crow dagger is really bugging you, it must do something. Otherwise, why would that spirit even give it to you?

50 future bucks that gluttons theme is excess

>>43095555
>>That crow dagger is really bugging you, it must do something. Otherwise, why would that spirit even give it to you?
gotta keep stock of what everything does.

>>43095723
>>43095705
>>43095704
>>43095620
>Dagger

>>43095622
>Consume the souls of the living.

Writin'

>>43095310
You do know Soma is a HUGE m right?
>>43095323
I missed you.
I stop following banished after the cloak breaking I couldn't handle anon's retardation anymore. I enjoy you writing and I hope this quest can avoid stupid player desisions.

You return to the patio, retrieving the dagger from where you'd earlier set it down on a glass table. The grip feels good in your hands, natural for lack of a better word. As though it were custom made to fit your grip. You stab and slash the air experimentally a few times, but nothing happens. You weren't really expecting anything, but it was worth a shot.

Wandering back into the middle of the yard you try to recall what you know of ravens and crows in mythology. You think a lot of cultures view them as sort of the messengers of the gods, and you think Odin had a pair of crows which reported all that they saw to the Norse deity. The Celts had a few crow gods as well, you think they were usually associated with death and battle.

You prick the tip of your finger on the point of the blade, watching a drop of blood run down the multicolored surface of the knife. The drop leaves no trace of its passage, only a thin trail of glimmering metal in its wake. Barely perceptible unless you examine the blade closely. You're not sure if the blood is evaporating or getting sucked in by the knife itself.

You try something else. Running the edge of the blade along the palm of your hand you become acutely aware of all the various and sundry animals surrounding you. Squirels resting in the tree which dominates one corner of your yard. A raccoon creeping through the shadows just beyond your fence in search of food. Even your wife sleeping soundly in your bed and your dog Sally splayed out in front of the front door.

Removing the blade from your flesh, your heightened awareness vanishes. Inspecting your palm reveals no wound, nor mark of any sort. Just calloused skin as per usual. If a shallow cut on the palm reveals so much about the world around you, what would plunging the knife into your chest reveal?

(1/2)

You're not really eager to find out, being honest. Somehow gutting yourself doesn't sound like an appealing prospect, even if it might not kill you. Instead you try stabbing various other items in your yard with the dagger. It passes easily through the wood of your fence. You hadn't thought it was all that sharp, but apparently you were wrong. However, other than it's exceptional sharpness and apparent ability to grant you senses beyond what any mortal should be capable of it seems largely mundane.

You return to the patio, sucking down a few sips of water. It had long since become lukewarm, but it was still tolerable. You're a little at a loss for what else to test. If you had someone here alive with you, someone you didn't mind stabbing and possibly eating, you could probably test more extensively. As is, your options are to use yourself as a subject or to murder your wife in her sleep, something you're as of yet unwilling to do.

>Eeeh, fuck it. What's the worst that could happen. Stab yourself in the chest with the knife you got from a fey.
>Maybe you could kidnap a jogger or something?
>Try to ignore your murderous urges for a few minutes so you can instead research this professor you're supposed to hunt down.
>Your current catalog of binds is pitiful, you should go out in search of new spirits.
>Write-in

Gonna grab some coffee real quick. Back soon.

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>>43096548
>Try to ignore your murderous urges for a few minutes so you can instead research this professor you're supposed to hunt down.

Not this time Satan
Id like to belive Don isnt Mik 1.5

>>43096548
>Eeeh, fuck it. What's the worst that could happen. Stab yourself in the chest with the knife you got from a fey.
What else did you expect us to do?

>>43096548
>>Your current catalog of binds is pitiful, you should go out in search of new spirits.

>>43096548
>>Try to ignore your murderous urges for a few minutes so you can instead research this professor you're supposed to hunt down.

>>43096548
>Try to ignore your murderous urges for a few minutes so you can instead research this professor you're supposed to hunt down.

>>43096548
>Try to ignore your murderous urges for a few minutes so you can instead research this professor you're supposed to hunt down.
at least we know what it does.

>>43096548
>Your current catalog of binds is pitiful, you should go out in search of new spirits.

>>43096548
>Try to ignore your murderous urges for a few minutes so you can instead research this professor you're supposed to hunt down.

>>43096906
>>43096677
>>43096635
>>43096579
>>43096632
>Try not to murder anything for two seconds.

>>43096698
>>43096631
>Tech the fuck up real fuckin' fast.

>>43096617
>What could possibly go wrong?

Writin'

>>43093283
Silly Donnie you didn't sell your soul to the devil you are the devil

>>43096947
meditate on bindings

ROOOOOOOLL me a 3d10 flat real quick. DC is... I'll say it's 16 for this.

Rolled 4, 10, 8 = 22 (3d10)

>>43097854

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

>>43097854

Rolled 5, 1, 4 = 10 (3d10)

>>43097854
Late rolls.

Rolled 8, 7, 2 = 17 (3d10)

>>43097854

>>43097854
Spend 6 vys.

>>43097864
>>43097873
>>43097896
>22, 20, 10
>Success!
Back to writin' almost done.

You briefly position the dagger over your chest without really realizing it, but catch yourself as you draw the blade back to plunge it into your chest. Instead you let your hands fall to your side, and carefully set the dagger down on the table. It's disconcerting how close you just were to committing what could very well be ritual suicide without even fully being aware of your own actions.

Maybe if this were a week ago that would be more than just cause for mild concern. These days it's almost starting to seem normal.

After a few minutes of staring at the knife warily you pluck it back up, along with your rifle, and march back inside. You briefly consider leaving your various weaponry in the den, but the idea of leaving them unsupervised rubs you the wrong way for some reason. Instead you take them with you back upstairs, slipping quietly back into your bedroom.

Claire has quite happily entangled herself in the sheets, practically stripping your entire half of the bed. She's sleeping soundly, and her breathing's steady. You're still careful to make as little sound as possible putting your rifle and the dagger away before easing into your computer chair.

The glow of your computer screens drowns out the rest of the world the moment you depress the power button. Once your computer finishes booting you navigate to the browser bar and quickly type in the name of your target. There seems to be quite a lot of information about Jacob Knightly available online, although most of it is fairly useless.
(1/3)

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Apparently the good doctor took an interest in archaeology from an early age and dedicated himself to it in college. Earned his undergrad from some podunk little school in the northeast corridor and then got a Ph.D from the University of Pennsylvania. He's worked primarily in Europe, spent a lot of time in Italy, North Africa, and the Middle East. He's written a truly vast number of articles on early civilizations.

You get the impression he's actually quite respected, though he's not without his crackpot theories. You find one article by Knightly claiming that the ancient civilizations of Egypt, Mesopotamia, and the Indus Valley all had common origin, that they were colonies of some greater civilization as of yet undiscovered by modern scientist. He places the origin for this ancient society somewhere in the Indian Ocean, and posits that it was likely swept away by a tsunami at some point before recorded history.

To you it sounds like the lost city of Atlantis, or some similar nonsense. You're not sure what an Archaeologist primarily specializing in ancient civilizations would be doing in Antarctica of all places. So far as you're aware Antarctica has been a frozen over wasteland since humanity's ancestors were still living in trees subsisting on fruits.

None of this is particularly useful, unfortunately. You try searching through the website of Washington and Lee University, the tiny liberal arts college in Lexington where Doctor Knightly taught, but all you can find by way of mention regarding this Antarctic trip is a posting looking for graduate students interested in an opportunity to pad their resume.

(2/3)

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The posting itself is scant of details. It mentions a groundbreaking discovery in the interior of Mount Sidley which the students would be helping to unearth over the course of a six month expedition. After that the only other mention of Doctor Knightly is a announcement that the right honorable professor has left the university's employ and that he will be missed.

On a wild hunch you try looking for any other mention of Jacob or J. Knightly in the area surrounding Lexington. You find a few mentions of a J. Knightly in the guest list of various talks and conferences, as well as an empty dating profile and a few most likely unrelated accounts on other websites. There seems to be one J Knightly quite obsessed with pistachios, and another who's a member of some sort of paranoia support forum.

Then you hit on something interesting: the website for that cult up in the mountains you discovered whilst researching spirits. The Brothers and Sisters of the Harmonious Aether. Apparently there is a J Knightly listed as one of their 'High Elders'. Actually, their compound was pretty close to Lexington now that you think about it. They preach a rejection of modern monotheistic religions in favor of worshiping 'the Gods of our ancestors', whatever that means.

(3/4)

Unfortunately, other than discovering that your target is possibly a pistachio-obsessed paranoid cult member using graduate students as slave labor you're no closer to figuring out what he was doing in Antarctica than you were an hour ago. Checking the time, you're surprised to see that it's nearly midnight. You've been at this a lot longer than you thought.

>Maybe you should check out the Harmonious Aether? They're only a few hours drive west of Richmond.
>You'll have time tomorrow to investigate cults. Get some sleep for now, you've got a busy day ahead.
>It's probably just a coincidence. You have better things to do tomorrow besides.
>Contact your friend Abraham, you've known him for years and as a detective he has resources you don't. He could investigate this cult while you're working.
>Write-in

>>43098197
>You'll have time tomorrow to investigate cults. Get some sleep for now, you've got a busy day ahead.
and a wife to vigorously fuck til she's preggers

>>43098197
>>You'll have time tomorrow to investigate cults. Get some sleep for now, you've got a busy day ahead.
Sup Soma, I glad you didn't run out on us this time

>>43098197
>>You'll have time tomorrow to investigate cults. Get some sleep for now, you've got a busy day ahead.

>>43098197
I want to go check out the cult

>>43098197
>Contact your friend Abraham, you've known him for years and as a detective he has resources you don't. He could investigate this cult while you're working.

>>43098197
>You'll have time tomorrow to investigate cults. Get some sleep for now, you've got a busy day ahead.

>>43098197
>>Contact your friend Abraham, you've known him for years and as a detective he has resources you don't. He could investigate this cult while you're working.

>>43098197
>You'll have time tomorrow to investigate cults. Get some sleep for now, you've got a busy day ahead.

>>43098295
>>43098261
>>43098246
>>43098244
>>43098219
>Investigating neo-Pagan cults can wait, you're tired.

>>43098258
>>43098268
>Get your bro Abe on the case.

>>43098254
>Sneak out to hang with freaks and weirdos in the woods.

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>>43098178
>Abraham Sokolsky
>That nose
With Jews, you lose.

>>43098302
>neo-Pagan
Shit tier

What made you base this professor off of your own Soma?
It's pretty obvious what with the taking students on a trip for dark rituals bit.

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The glow of the computer screens is extinguished with the press of a button, you massage your eyes while they're still adjusting to the sudden darkness of the room. You swear that for just a second, you can hear something moving in the room. Something large, and alive. There's a brief jangling of chains, but when you open your eyes you don't see anything of particular note.

Just to be certain you snap your fingers, a flame manifesting itself above your thumb. Casting briefly around the room you don't see anything amiss, no doors open that shouldn't be nor furniture misplaced. You chock it up to stress and extinguish the light before stripping down to your boxers and crawling back into bed. It takes some effort to liberate the covers from Claire's vile grasp, but eventually you manage to sidle up to your wife and make yourself comfortable.

Sleep comes slowly, and when finally you're claimed by its all encompassing embrace you're plagued by strange dreams. Several times you dream of waking up to find a suited man staring at you, his face a twisted mass of writhing leeches all competing to feast upon some hidden morsel underneath their slime-coated bodies.

The figure's eyes float like disembodied corpuscles amongst the mass of leeches, the sclera black and irises burning white. You come to realize he's in every dream you have, not always at the forefront but in the background. He doesn't do anything, doesn't interact with you at all, merely observes. You wonder if, perhaps, he's merely a spirit wandering through the area stepping in to observe the mind of a mortal.

(13_

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It's just as you're finally sinking into what you suspect will be dreamless sleep that you feel lips brush against your own, a weight pressing down on your chest. You're half tempted to just groan and roll onto your side to escape Claire's predation, but sadly she's ruined even that option for you. The subtle disturbance was all that was required to drag you fully awake, despite whatever reservations you might have had.

You find that at some point over the course of the night you've rolled over onto your back, something Claire seems to have taken to quite readily. She's folded her arms on your chest for use as a pillow and sprawled herself out across the rest of the mattress. You think she's probably still half asleep. More than half, in fact.

You try to scoot out of the bed without disturbing her, but it's really quite impossible. She whines in quiet confusion while rolling onto her back, throwing her arms wide in a luxurious stretch. Fortunately all she does is snatch your pillow for her own purposes, hugging it to her chest with all the fervor that a child might clutch a stuffed animal.

You leave her there for now, quickly hauling on a pair of pants before wandering down stairs. Sally leaps to her feet at the sight of you, trotting after you quite happily into the kitchen. It's as you're dragging out the various ingredients you'll need to make Eggs Benedict that you notice something amiss: There are six or seven crows perched on your various lawn furniture visible through the sliding glass doors into your backyard.

>They're not hurting nobody, leave them be.
>Open the door and let Sally scare them off.
>Tear up an English Muffin and toss it to them, once you've finished cooking that is.
>Write-in

>>43098898
What can I say? You write what you know.

>>43098954
>Write-in
pull out the dagger
walk outside

>>43098954
>Tear up an English Muffin and toss it to them, once you've finished cooking that is.

>>43098973
after we finish cooking i meant to add

>>43098990
>>43098954
I support this. Neighbors are ancient forest spirits. What can you do?

SOMA KUN
SOMA KUUN

This isn't Criminal Negligence Quest. You seem to have made a mistake.

>>43098954
>Tear up an English Muffin and toss it to them, once you've finished cooking that is.

>>43099020
>>43098990
>>43099076
>Let them eat muffins.

>>43098973
>Let's not pretend we don't know why these fuckers are here.

>>43099072
I'mma fuck around with CNQ a bit, tweak some things before I run it again. Mostly behind-the-scenes stuff.

>>43098954
>Tear up an English Muffin and toss it to them, once you've finished cooking that is.

and >>43098973

>>43099072
>being a cnq fag

Great. The plebs are here.

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>>43099110
I've been here since the beginning. I just went to catch up on what I thought was the CNQ I would have missed between posts. I was wrong.

I mean, if it makes you feel more comfortable I can shitpost a little. I don't have anything specific, but I do have a VB throwback image.

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>>43099161
Blacula is the best cula

>>43099161
It looks like Freddie Mercury I don't even like gay porn and I must watch this

>>43099275
It isn't gay if it is Freddie. It is fabulous!

You watch them through the doorway whilst absentmindedly laying out slices of bacon on a rapidly heating skillet. They just sit there, staring at you. Over the course of the next twenty or so minutes you watch as more and more of the birds flit into your yard. By the time you're finally pouring a thick layer of hollandaise sauce over an English muffin stacked high with bacon and a poached egg there are probably thirty of the little bastards hanging around in your yard.

You grab a few pieces of bacon, two English muffins, and a slice of ham. Using a mixing bowl you very briefly tear apart and mix the disparate elements of your make-shift bird feed before wandering over to the glass door. You think the crows know what's going on, because a few of them have started hopping closer to the glass.

As soon as you pull the door open an ungodly squawking fills the air, which sets Sally barking. You quickly toss the bowl's contents into the crowd of waiting birds, which swarm your yard and patio in a desperate attempt to get as much food down their gullets as possible. You slam the door shut, slipping back into your house, and watch the mass of black feathered corvids fight one another over some bread and raw meat.

Eventually the birds start to disperse, those that have filled their stomachs the first to leave. You opt to ignore those few that remain, instead depositing the mixing bowl you used into the dish washer and washing your hands before collecting your two prepared plates and carrying them with you back up the stairs. Sally following close at your heels the entire way.

As soon as you open the bedroom door your old greyhound bolts past you, leaping up onto the mattress in a single bound and quickly curling up at the foot of the bed. Your wife has bothered to pull on a shirt finally, one of yours. She greets you with a broad, if tired smile and plants a light peck on your cheek when you bend down to hand her a plate.

(1/2)

You crawl into bed next to Claire, plucking up your fork and digging in. You always have liked Eggs Benedict, the thick, almost fluffy hollandaise sauce added a perfect note of subtle sweetness to an otherwise rather bland dish. Plus it's great for hangovers.

Claire leans across the bed to grab the remote off her bedside table, flicking on the TV and settling in to watch whatever's on. Some sort of kid's show, you think. Something about a world full of intelligent dogs? It's all rather convoluted, but entertaining if nothing else. A surprisingly comfortable, relaxing morning considering the recent events which plague your life.

Between mouthfuls you inquire after your wife's condition. “How're you feeling? Nauseous at all?”

She nods, sopping up hollandaise with a wedge of English muffin. “A little, but it's not as bad as it was yesterday.” She pops the bite of muffin into her mouth, chewing carefully before swallowing. “Got anything you need to do today, before y'know, you leave?”

>Not really, nothing vitally important.
>Tell her you need to report in to the office today for a briefing, then go and investigate that cult compound.
>There's actually some shopping you still need to finish up. You think Bart recommended you buy a pair of HUD contacts for IDing targets. Only place to find those is a specialist store.
>You should really try to expand your arsenal of bound spirits and abilities before hopping on a train to Antarctica.
>Write-in

>>43099587
>Tell her you need to report in to the office today for a briefing, then go and investigate that cult compound.
Just to be clear, this is you lying and then going to the compound. Not running down to the office for anything first. Realized that might be a bit misleading.

>>43099587
>Tell her you need to report in to the office today for a briefing, then go and investigate that cult compound.

SACRIFICE, SACRIFICE, SACRIFICE

>>43099587
>>There's actually some shopping you still need to finish up. You think Bart recommended you buy a pair of HUD contacts for IDing targets. Only place to find those is a specialist store.
>>You should really try to expand your arsenal of bound spirits and abilities before hopping on a train to Antarctica.
and then
>Tell her you need to report in to the office today for a briefing, then go and investigate that cult compound.
if we have time

>>43099587
>Tell her you need to report in to the office today for a briefing, then go and investigate that cult compound.

>>43099587
Cult compound.

Stop on the way. Pick up some cumin and bbq sauce.

>>43099634
>cumin and bbq sauce.
?

>>43099643
People taste awful. Might be able to build up a bit of credit with that bastard in the void.

>>43099587
>HUD contacts
>maybe expand our bindings if we find something fun
I don't want to mess with cults right now, we don't have time to properly do it anyway.

>>43099744
>>43099620
>Shopping

>>43099620
>>43099744
>Binding

>>43099634
>>43099626
>>43099613
>>43099620
>Cult investigating

Writin'

>>43099587
Creepy cult we don't need no contact lenses

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A lie springs to your lips unbidden and you deliver it with a sort of easy confidence. “I have to swing in to work for a briefing before shipping off to Antarctica. I'm not sure how long it's going to take, but I was thinking on my way back I'd do a little grocery shopping.” You were thinking of grabbing a few spices to season Robert with. After all, just because you have to eat a person doesn't mean it has to be unpleasant. Spices and probably some pregnancy test.

Claire pouts at you, but quickly get over it. Between bites she prods you with her elbow. “Try to get home early, at least. I don't intend on wasting our last night together before you leave me all by my lonesome. You can sleep on the train, until then your ass is mine.”

You lean across the bed, sharing a brief kiss with your wife before righting yourself. “I'll hold you to that, honey. If all goes well I imagine I'll be home by...” It's probably about an hour and a half drive to the compound and the same back, assuming you actually drive it instead of just Stepping.

Stepping that far might actually be pretty hazardous, just the jump from the city proper to your home turned your arms completely to black smoke. On the other hand, it never actually hurts and you always regenerate missing bits and pieces of yourself. Could it really do you that much harm? It might be worth the risk, if only for the amount of time you'll save.

In the end you just shrug and toss out a number. “I don't know, three o'clock give or take. Hopefully earlier.” That'll give you plenty of time at the compound to investigate without fear of Claire suspecting anything's amiss even if you do drive.

(1/2)

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You finish your breakfast and reluctantly crawl out from underneath the covers, making your way into the bathroom to take care of your morning ritual. Claire joins you for your shower, but despite your undoubted skills at seduction she rebuts your advances. She promises that the sooner you get to the office, the sooner you can get back, and she'll be keeping herself ready for you in the interim.

After an innordinately frustrating shower you brush your teeth and shave before finally getting dressed. You select a simple outfit, jeans and a t-shirt, before debating on what sort of weaponry you might what to bring with you. Keeping in mind that Claire thinks you're just going to the office, you might not want to drag along heavy body armor and a highly illegal laser rifle. On the other hand, you don't really know what you're walking into with this cult business.

>Wear your body armor.
>Leave it, it's too conspicuous and will just draw attention.

>Bring your PDW, it's concealable but still packs a punch.
>Bring your plasma pistol. It's easily concealable but not that useful in atmosphere.
>Go big or go home, bring the Gewehr with you.
>The laser rifle will probably be slightly less conspicuous.
>Screw guns, you're itching to try out that dagger.

>>43100251
>Leave it
>PDW and plasma pistol

>>43100251
We don't have just like a kevlar vest thing do we?
>Bring your PDW, it's concealable but still packs a punch.
>And the Dagger

>>43100251
>Bring your PDW, it's concealable but still packs a punch.
>You're itching to try out that dagger.

>>43100251
>Leave it, it's too conspicuous and will just draw attention.

>Bring your PDW, it's concealable but still packs a punch.
>Screw guns, you're itching to try out that dagger.

>>43100308
Nah, you opted for something heavier.

>>43100304
>>43100308
>>43100317
>>43100375
>No armor

>>43100304
>>43100308
>>43100317
>>43100375
>PDW

>>43100308
>>43100317
>>43100375
>Dagger

>>43100304
>Pistol

You'll bring the PDW and the dagger while leaving the armor. I've also updated the inventory paste with the dagger and your body armor. Anyway, writin'. Probably last post for the night. Probably.

You shrug on your shoulder harness and quickly clip the PDW to your side once you've made sure that the safety is on, along with two spare magazines just for good measure. You also slide the knife into a sheathe on the harness. It's not a perfect fit, but it's close enough. Finally you shrug on a heavy jacket and zip it up, just as your wife wanders out of the bathroom wrapped up in what must be three or four tails for some incomprehensible reason.

She sees you off with a peck and you slip out of the bedroom, Sally leaping off the bed to follow you out the door as a loyal dog ought to. You find your keys, wallet, and phone in the kitchen, shoving each of the latter into their respective pockets while keeping the keys on hand. After doing one last quick check to make sure you're not forgetting anything, it's out the door.

You see that the crows you'd thought had dispersed had in fact merely spread across the neighborhood. They're everywhere, lurking in the trees and sitting on fences. Hundreds of them at this point. You kind of really, really hope they don't follow you. It's going to be hard to be inconspicuous with a murder shadowing you.

(12)

You slide into your sedan and start the car, pulling out of the driveway and setting off towards the distant compound. However, after a few minutes of driving you start to debate internally whether it would be best to drive the whole way, or pull off the road and find someplace inconspicuous to abandon your car. You could step to the compound, look around, and then step back to your car without anyone being the wiser.

>You'd rather spend as little time as possible in that strange alternative dimension you pass through when Stepping. Best to drive.
>It's simply too convenient to worry about petty things like the placement of your internal organs, the integrity of your limbs, and the sanctity of your mind.
>Drive until you're only a few miles out, then Step. That should tax your body less than it otherwise would but avoid anyone IDing you based on your license plate.
>Write-in

I lied, one more post after this.

>>43100606
>Drive until you're only a few miles out, then Step. That should tax your body less than it otherwise would but avoid anyone IDing you based on your license plate.

>>43100606
>Drive until you're only a few miles out, then Step. That should tax your body less than it otherwise would but avoid anyone IDing you based on your license plate.

Step farther than we've done before, but not so far we go full Mik

>>43100606
>Drive until you're only a few miles out, then Step. That should tax your body less than it otherwise would but avoid anyone IDing you based on your license plate.

>>43100606
>best to drive

Writin' for
>Drive until close, then step.

>>43100610
>Step farther than we've done before
The gun store we stepped to was a lot farther than this.

>>43100753
>>43100622
The jump from Don's home to the gun store was ~15 miles. I'll probably have Don jump ~10 miles for this one, just so he's not doubled over puking and missing arms for the first few minutes after coming arrival.

>>43100761
I really like this quest you need to run it more.

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You have your car's computer locate the address of the compound and plot a course. From there it's a fairly relaxing drive. You end up driving through the Farm, officially the United States Center for Data Storage and Protection. It's a data center that stretches for miles and miles in any direction, even enclosing the highway. It's the site of most current research into the fields of AGI development, and home to more than half of the world's artificial intellects.

Driving through the Farms is a strange experience indeed, primarily due to the surprising number of spirits you see on the way. Giant floating balls of electricity, wispy ghost which vanish into wires the moment you draw to close, and tiny little sprites seem to fill the air no matter where you are. The sprites in particular are annoying, because from time to time they'll explode into brilliant, and distracting, burst of light.

The spiritual scenery thins out once you reach the Appalachian Mountains. Entering the mountains you feel a very distinctive weight fall on your shoulders, making it just slightly more difficult to breathe. You get the sense that you shouldn't be here. That you don't belong. Indeed, from time to time you'll catch sight of some massive lumbering spirit bursting above the treeline, each of them bestial and savage, only to vanish again an instant later.

At one point, while driving past a coal farm, your car is charged by some sort of humanoid stone construction. You swerve to avoid the creature, only to find you need not do so. It passes through you harmlessly, vanishing into a cliff face an instant later.
(1/4)

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When your GPS informs you that you're about ten miles away from the compound you pull the car off the highway, and onto a dirt road with a sign very prominently displaying “No Outlet”. Your GPS promptly displays a 'Position Lost' reading as you pull to a stop in the woods, surrounded on every side by trees..

You slide out of your car, locking it behind you and briefly checking your weapons. You ensure that the PDW has its safety toggled on and the magazine inserted is actually loaded, and that your knife hasn't ripped a hole in its sheath. Satisfied you turn your attention to your surroundings. The woods here just feel old, untouched for millennia, and you get the sense that the spirits here reflect that. Each tree houses some indescribably presence, every stone has a mind of its own, but they pay you no mind. You are but a momentary blimp on their radar, soon to fade away.

Just as you're getting ready to jump to the compound, you watch as a crow alights on a branch. That crow is followed by two others, and then a fourth. Then six more. They quickly surround you on every side. In your frustration you place two fingers in your mouth and blow, a high pitched, screeching whistle echoing through the woods. “Go on! Git! I don't need y'all followin' me around-”

There's a rain of feathers and a rush of wings as all at once the birds take flight. As suddenly as they appeared, they're gone. Yet you still feel their eyes on you, hundreds of pairs of eyes. You get the sense you could have them at your side in a moment's notice, should you give the word.

(2/4)

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Sighing, you close your eyes and focus intensely on the pictures the Brothers and Sisters of the Harmonious Aether had posted on their website. Of a sprawling campus nestled within a mountain valley, surrounded by lush and natural forest. You focus in particular on the woods, and on a space between two specific trees. Then you picture yourself there. There's a loud 'pop' and a rush of air. When you open your eyes you find yourself in that endless plain of grey stone. Rifts dot the skies, momentary tears giving you a glimpse of some foreign place, or even different time. You see the Eiffel Tower collapsing, bombs going off around its base. You see armies on the march in strange armor. You see what are obviously some sort of aliens hurling bolts of lightning from their fingers.

It's all very strange, and then with a quiet 'pop' and a sound not dissimilar to paper tearing it all just ends.

You emerge in the woods next to a sprawling compound much like the one pictured on the Harmonious Aether's website. A stately stone church, quite old by the looks of it, sits at the top of a promontory surrounded on three sides by a semicircle of houses and shops, a little village built up around the church. The southern face of the church, which corresponds with the entrance to the valley is left undeveloped save for a dirt road which runs past the church towards the village.

You stand in the woods along the southern edge of the village, staring up at the church as some sort of ritual takes place. As you watch a man wearing what is, in all likelihood, a fake lion's skin coat with his face painted bright red steps forward wielding a long dagger. He plunges the blade into a lamb's neck just as the sun crest the mountains which line the valley, the lamb struggling feebly while its steaming blood pours from the wound.

(3/4)

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Two men break off from the group of forty or so individuals holding a large wooden basin, which they place underneath the lamb to gather its blood. Once the corpse is drained the man in the lion skin passes it to a woman garbed head to toe in white, going so far as to wear a veil, who promptly carries it away with a few of her similarly garbed companions.

Each of the gathered individuals steps forward one by one holding smaller bowls which they use to collect some of the blood from the basin, drinking deeply before moving on to the end of the line. This act alone doesn't really phase you. Rather, it's what happens at the end of the little ritual that you find odd.

Using the remaining blood from the basin the priest pours a bright red circle into the ground, scattering some sort of black powder into the center. There's a flash of light, and a hole opens in the ground. From the hole crawls a being you find hard to describe. It has two vast, leather wings and a long tail yet walks on two legs. Four arms branch off from its torso, two at its shoulders and two from its ribs, and its dagger-lined maw glows with some sort of internal fire.

On the creature's chest is carved a... strangely familiar symbol. You can't quite place it, but you feel as though you ought to recognize it from somewhere.

Then it hits you.

The symbol on the creature's chest is remarkably similar to, though still different than, the sigil burned into your neck by the Spirit of Gluttony

>EEEEEND THREEEAAD

>>43100995
A spirit of wrath then, I assume.

>>43101010
Filename, anon.

This was a fun thread, very comfy. Very relaxed. Would r8 8/8 m8
I think I'd like to run LQ at least until the MC gets piled onto the train to Antarctica on a semi-regular basis. That in mind, I'm going to hesitantly set next Thursday as the next thread.

>>43100995
Well, seems I realized you were running just in time to see you wrap things up. Thanks for running Soma, it was nice to see this quest in action again. Any plans to run it again in the near future?

>>43101021
>i'm gonna try and run this semi-regularly
kek good one fag. next you'll tell us you're gonna stop drinking so much.

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>>43101010
Spirits of Wrath aren't usually quite that coherent, they also tend to be a bit more monstrous. The higher up on the hierarchy you go the more this holds true.

Archive here:
http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive.html?tags=Life%20Quest

>>43101021
Can't w8 m8.

>>43101066
>the higher up the hierarchy
You mean the hierarchy of the sins, or the ladder of spirit types(like greater demon of etc.)? Is there a hierarchy of sins?

>>43100995
Thanks for running. How well do different spirits get along? Are we going to fuck our wife into an early grave?

>>43101168
There isn't really a hierarchy of sins, no. Pride and Envy tend to push themselves to the fore when it comes to affecting the person their bound to, while Slothfulness and Lust are usually more content to occasionally have their turn so long as their fairly simple demands are met.

The Hierarchy I was referring to was Spirits -> Demons -> Greater Demons or Spirits -> Fey -> Primal Spirits, so on and so forth.