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>>47198612

You linger a few paces behind – long paces, measured in your lengthy stride – as Sunao and Toraji amble along the streets of the Dragon's Head. They make a strange pair, those two – Sunao, the golden boy, and glum, neurotic Toraji. You're still not exactly sure what kind of connection they have. Friends, perhaps, or something more antagonistic? Toraji, for his part, seemed to bear a kind of resentment for the little Emperor, but Sunao showed no such ill will. Then again, you consider, why would he?

No, if anything, Sunao seemed oblivious to the idea that Toraji could be anything other than the perfect friend. Laughing and joking with every street they walk down, he barely notices the fact that Toraji hardly says two words. When conversation slows, Sunao blows an unbearable shrill note on a silver whistle he keeps around his neck, sending his pet falcon up into the air. A second blast on the whistle calls the bird back, settling comfortably on the boy's shoulder. When it isn't flying around in lazy circles, the bird spends all of its time preening and grooming itself.

It's the perfect pet for him, in other words.

With the falcon taking to the air once more, Sunao turns to face you. “We've decided,” he announces brightly.

Decided what, you ask, how they're going to prove their worth to Lapis? Your suggestion had been to get the townspeople on side, but they've barely spoken with anyone except each other. Have they come up with a better idea, then?

“That's just it!” Sunao insists, “I... we're still going to reach out to the people, but not in ones or twos. It'll be much quicker if we just get them all together!”

“A speech,” Toraji explains, “Oh, I hate speeches...”

“We can gather everyone at the temple,” Sunao adds, “Simplicity itself!”

>And you're both agreed?
>I think the personal touch would be better
>A good speech is a fine thing. Good idea
>Did you have any questions, then?
>Other

>>47198620
>A good speech is a fine thing, but I need to see if you can do it one on one, first.

>>47198620
>And you're both agreed?
You seem reluctant Toraji.
>Did you have any questions, then?
You're casting a wide net here for the sake of speed. It's high risk, high reward. If it's poor, you make a bad impression on EVERYONE instead of a singular person if you did one on ones.

>>47198620
>>And you're both agreed?
>>A good speech is a fine thing. Good idea
Just make sure they're both on board.

>>47198620
>>And you're both agreed?
Give me your opinion Toraji. Honest and blunt one.

A good speech can be a fine thing, you tell Sunao carefully, but you'd like to make sure he can deliver one first.

“Of course I can!” Sunao insists, as Toraji sighs ruefully, “You don't think I can do it?”

You don't know what he can do, you remind him, and Toraji seems reluctant – are they both in agreement with this scheme? As a guide, you can't explicitly tell them what to do, but you can give them one warning – this is casting a wide net, putting speed ahead of care. If this doesn't work, they'll have made a bad impression on the entire community, and that could ruin their chances of proving their worth. What you're saying is, are they both certain of this?

“I'm not such a great public speaker,” Toraji admits slowly, keeping his voice steady for once, “But I won't claim to be, you know, great at normal conversations either. I thought I might get better, but...” He shakes his head. “No, I think a speech would work. We just need to come up with a good one...”

“Listen!” Suano cries, running up a short flight of steps so his head is above yours. Then, in a voice with more power than his small frame might suggest, he begins to speak. He speaks of nature, of respecting the land that grants life and security to men. His words are surprisingly eloquent, so much so that you find yourself convinced. He really might-

“I recognise that passage,” Toraji says suddenly, “That's from another, much older speech. I mean, yeah, you delivered it well, but that's not your speech. C'mon, Lord Lapis wouldn't fall for that...”

“That's not fair!” Sunao protests, his mood dropping slightly, “The people wouldn't know that! You only knew that because of how much time you spend reading.”

[1/2]

>>47198827

“Wait,” Toraji snaps his fingers, “I could write a speech, and you could deliver it! That would work,” he glances across at you then, “Wouldn't it? I mean, I'm fine with not getting any of the attention, as long as Lord Lapis knew that I had done my part.”

Sighing, you pinch the bridge of your nose. It might work, you think to yourself, but is it really a fair division of labour? Looking at the pair of them – both looking hopeful now, even if Toraji is far less open about it – you sigh again. Did they have any other questions, first?

“None,” Sunao shakes his head decisively, “Hey, I'm ready to get started already!”

“We're not on any kind of time limit, are we?” Toraji asks, “I might need a little time to work something out, that's all.”

No limit, you tell them, as far as you're aware of.

“Then, what do you say?” Sunao asks, “It's a good idea, isn't it?”

>Teamwork and cooperation. I like it
>It sounds like Toraji is doing all the hard work
>This gives Sunao an unfair advantage. You should be equal partners.
>Other

>>47198848
>>Teamwork and cooperation. I like it
But I want you two to learn from each other during this. Also at the end of the speech Toraji needs to be credited for writing it and that this came about via teamwork.

>>47198848
>Teamwork and cooperation. I like it
>But what will Sunao do while Toraji is writing, and what will Toraji do while Sunao is delivering the speech?
I guess Sunao could go around telling people to meet at the square, but Toraji may need to do something fancy with the bird while Sunao talks.

>>47198848
>Teamwork and cooperation. I like it
But a high ranking priest does need presence Toraji. You might want to say a few things too during the speech.

Teamwork and cooperation, both virtues that the land could do with these days. You like it, you admit after a moment's thought, but you do have a few suggestions to make. First of all, you want the two of them to learn from each other – this is a good chance to observe a new skill, and that doesn't come along very often.

“I can do that,” Sunao nods, “Watch and learn, isn't that right?”

You're not finished yet, you warn the pampered young man, you had other conditions to make. This team effort, it can't be kept secret – Toraji should be given the recognition he deserves for writing the speech, no matter who ends up giving it.

“Well, I mean, I'm grateful, but there's really no need...” Toraji mumbles, although you do sense a secret kind of satisfaction in him. The fact that you're helping him after everything that has happened, that must mean a lot to the anxious young man.

But a priest of significant rank needs to have presence, you remind him, he can't always wait in the shadows. When the time comes for Sunao to give his speech, he should add a few things as well – just enough that his face doesn't go forgotten.

“I don't mind sharing the stage,” Sunao tells you slowly, a slight frown touching his otherwise smooth face, “I think we should be ready, say... this evening, perhaps?”

“This evening,” Toraji agrees quietly, giving a firm nod, “Definitely.”

Last question. What is Sunao going to be doing while Toraji works? And does Toraji have any idea what to do while Sunao is giving the speech?

“We'll need to work together for the speech. A written draft can sound very different when it comes to reading aloud,” Sunao tells you, “I imagine we'll need to spend a fair while on getting the pace right, as well as, well, countless other little factors that might come into play. Oh, but this is exciting...”

[1/2]

>>47199027

“I'll prepare a shorter piece to read,” Toraji adds, a grim note entering his voice, “I won't like it, but you're right – I need to make sure the people see me as well. I'll put it somewhere in the middle, so Sunao can take over if I, um, if I...”

“If he messes it up,” Sunao finishes with a bright and insolent wink.

It's a good plan, you've to admit. While he might not have much talent for public speaking – or, speaking in general – Toraji seems to have a good, strong mind. His true talents might lie elsewhere in future, if the priesthood isn't for him. The archives here at the Dragon's Head, you think, could certainly use someone to take care of them...

“I think we'll part ways here,” Sunao says, snapping you out of your thoughts, “You've been a great help, really, but I think we should handle the speech ourselves. You'll be here to watch it though, won't you? You've got to come and watch us!”

He's right about that – you've got to. It's part of your job here, to watch and judge them. The final decision might lie with Lapis, but you've got the task of giving a human perspective. So, you tell the pair, you'll be there.

“When the temple bell rings,” Toraji explains, “That'll summon the townsfolk, all those who want to at least. Most do – we're all pretty faithful here.”

So you've got some free time until the evening. A nice day like this, it might be good to roam the streets a little and enjoy the fine weather. Then again, you had certain matters to discuss with Holm...

>Roam the streets for a while
>Consult with Holm about cult matters
>See how Howa and Koa are doing
>Other

>>47199108
>Consult with Holm about cult matters

>>47199108
>See how Howa and Koa are doing
get all the info before we bring it up with Holm

>>47199137
What more info is there? I think we have as much info about Manabu as we can get for now.

>>47199108
>Consult with Holm about cult matters

>>47199170
stuff from the archives? might be more cult propaganda, like whatever converted Manabu.

>>47199202
Faceless agent converted Manabu because Manabu was envious as fuck of Holm. It didn't take much to convince him as long as he was promised he'd get Holm's position.

>>47199108
>>Consult with Holm about cult matters
>>See how Howa and Koa are doing
It won't take long to check in with the others.

>>47199108
Maybe I'm just paranoid, but I would really like to review the speech before they give it. What with the whole powder keg between the Cult and the Empire right now.

As well, we really should try to check them for magic during the speech. Holm was a little sketchy about why he kept Sunao isolated.

Also, maybe this is too much reading into it but hawks are killers and anyone who handles one well has to be more capable than any old idiot.

After all, if Toraji only recognized the speech because he reads so much, how come Sunao can recite it on the spur of the moment? And it's an appropriate one too, that he picked because he thinks the rabble would be too dumb for any of them to notice.

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Howa, back at the archives, might have come up with some new information in the time you've been away. Even if she hasn't – there might not be any new information of any worth – you'd like to see her and Koa. You don't exactly hate Toraji or Sunao, but the pair were very quickly starting to wear on your nerves. Sunao in particular – that boy is far too cheerful for his own good. The benefits, you suppose, of a sheltered upbringing.

As you're returning to the temple, you stop to watch a pair of wagons rolling into town. Traders, you guess, from the capital. Both are heavily weighed down with people as well as crates, armed guards up front – their rifles carefully slung to signify peaceful intentions – and motley groups of pilgrims in the rear. A few of those pilgrims wear blue dragon masks, and you shudder a little at the sight of them. Those same masks were used to disguise the cultists during their earlier attack. They might be traditional, but you don't think you'll ever like the sight of them.

When you reach the temple, Koa is relaxing on the stone steps, lazily flipping through a book. Pausing, you greet him.

“Ah, hello,” he straightens up when you pass him by, “Howa's still inside, working, but she gave me some time off. Said it wasn't right to keep me inside all day. I won't lie – I was starting to get a little sick of that room. The smell of old books, you know?”

It's not for everyone, you agree. In either case, you're here to discuss something with Holm.

“Oh, right,” Koa nods to himself, “Howa asked me to tell you. She found something you might be interested in – I think it might be something to do with Holm. Anyway, that's what she told me, so that's what I'm telling you.”

Something about Holm, you wonder aloud, that could be important. You were heading that way anyway, you tell Koa, so the brief distraction might not hurt.

[1/2]

>>47199386
Shadowrun is a helluva drug.

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>>47199429

One thing becomes immediately clear as you step into the archives – Howa worked Koa hard. The place couldn't exactly be considered clean or organised, but it's certainly in better shape then when you first saw it. The wavering towers of books have been sorted and arranged in safer ways, while anything too damaged to be worth saving has been relegated to a dank and mouldering pile. Howa herself sits at the single desk, a satisfied look on her face.

“Better, don't you think?” she asks, “Hello Ira. You saw Koa on your way in, correct?”

That's right, you nod, he said she had something to tell you.

“Holm's grandfather, the explorer,” Howa smiles, reaching out to tap a flat book on the desk, “He went missing up in the north, remember? Well, that wasn't the entire story – as it happens, he was quite well travelled. Once he had passed the title of high priest onto his son, he spent most of his time in the northern seas. In fact, he visited the Black Rock once before – although there's no record of what happened there. He was the only one out of the entire crew to go ashore, and he never spoke of what happened. Not to the crew, at least. Then, later in life, he went out again and...”

And he vanished, you finish, never to return.

“Interesting, isn't it?” Howa's eyes glint with curiosity, “What could the former high priest of Lapis have wanted with a god of warfare?

>Strength. The same thing anyone wants
>We can't be sure he went there because of the god. He might have had other reasons
>Better I ask Holm himself. If anyone knows, it would be him
>Let me ask you something... (Write in)
>Other

>>47199482
>>Strength. The same thing anyone wants
>>We can't be sure he went there because of the god. He might have had other reasons

>>47199482
>>Better I ask Holm himself. If anyone knows, it would be him
Arent both Lapis and the war god serpents?

>>47199482
>We can't be sure he went there because of the god. He might have had other reasons
>Better I ask Holm himself. If anyone knows, it would be him

>>47199518
Lapis is an eastern dragon, right? You could call him a serpent...

>>47199482
>We can't be sure he went there because of the god. He might have had other reasons
>Better I ask Holm himself. If anyone knows, it would be him

The most obvious answer would be strength – the same thing, you suspect, that the cult is after by seeking out the warrior god. That said, it's not a perfect answer. You can't be sure that Holm's grandfather went looking for the bloodthirsty god – perhaps he had some other reason for exploring the Black Rock.

“Maybe he found gold there,” Howa shrugs, “The prospect of vast wealth would be a powerful draw, I imagine, even if there were risks involved. Hmm, great piles of ancient treasure guarded by fanatical warriors – sounds like quite the adventure, don't you think?”

Perhaps the last adventure that Holm's grandfather ever embarked upon, you point out, he might have met his end on that island. In either case, you'd be better off asking Holm yourself. If anyone knows the answer to this little riddle, it would be him. There were other matters you wanted to discuss with Holm, after all – one more question can't hurt, can it?

“Hmm,” Howa taps a slender finger against her lips as she thinks, “You're probably right. His whole family seems prone to keeping secrets, though, so I wonder how much he'll be willing to tell you. Be careful, won't you?”

Something in her voice gives you pause. Is there something wrong?

“It could be nothing,” Howa shakes her head, “People with secrets, however, will often be very particular about keeping them secret. Just watch yourself, okay?”

You're always careful, you assure her, but sometimes you've got to ask questions. Is she finished here, you ask, or was there something else that had caught her eye?

“I think I've covered everything here,” she tells you, a faint note of regret in her voice, “Nothing particularly useful, and nothing at all about sorcery. A shame really, but nothing I didn't expect. Give me a hand, would you?”

Helping her to her feet, you lead Howa out to the temple entrance. Then, going your separate ways, you head through to meet up with Holm once more.

[1/2]

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>>47199803

“Officially, I can't ask,” Holm begins as you take a seat opposite him, “But how is Sunao doing? He has not, I'm sure, proven himself a disappointment.”

Things are moving along, you answer vaguely, you think they'll have something ready by the evening.

“They,” Holm repeats, “I understand that my instructions were vague, Wanderer, but I believe I only entrusted you with one boy. Can you explain, then, where they plural term comes into this?”

There is a second boy ready and willing to prove his worth to Lapis, you explain calmly, and you decided to serve as his instructor as well. There's nothing in their rules or traditions to prevent such a thing, is there?

“No, there is not,” Holm admits, “I just hope that this won't distract you from your duties. Should it come down to choosing where to focus, I trust you will know the right decision to make. There is no shame in not facing Lord Lapis' judgement, after all – the temple will always need minor priests and assistants. We all have our roles to play.”

And he's already decided what role his son will play, you think to yourself. The test might as well be a formality – no matter if there is a better candidate, Sunao will be the next high priest.

“Now that you've had time to speak with him, what did you think of him?” Holm asks suddenly, his attempt at changing the subject jarringly obvious, “Sunao, I should say. He might seem a little soft, by your standards, but I think he'll be a fine man when he's older.”

>He's definitely soft. A poor candidate for high priest
>He could quote an old speech from memory. I was very impressed
>It's too early to say for sure. We'll see what Lapis thinks
>Don't change the subject, Holm – this corruption has to end
>Other

>>47199905
>It's too early to say for sure. We'll see what Lapis thinks
>He is clever, but he is soft and lazy. Whether the former will overcome the latter is yet to be seen.

>>47199905
>It's too early to say for sure. We'll see what Lapis thinks
"But Holm, if Susao isn't cut out to be High Priest in the end and someone else shows higher merit you shouldn't force Susao into that position. I shouldn't presume to interfere with your successions here at Dragon's Head, but if you put Susao in the position only because he is your son people will start to take notice and it's all downhill from there.

>>47199905
>>He could quote an old speech from memory. I was very impressed
>>It's too early to say for sure. We'll see what Lapis thinks

>>47199931
>>He is clever, but he is soft and lazy. Whether the former will overcome the latter is yet to be seen.
nice, point out that the 2nd candidate gives him motivation to take his duty seriously. Remove him and Sunao becomes dull

>>47199905
>He could quote an old speech from memory. I was very impressed.
> He picked it because it was easier than coming up with his own though, and didn't think he would get caught plagiarizing.

It's a little too early to be certain, you offer, but you're eager to see what Lapis has to say about the boy. Perhaps a certain reluctance creeps into your voice as you say this, because Holm's brows drop into a low frown.

“Don't spare my feelings,” he grunts, “If you've got a problem with the boy, I want to know.”

Fine, you shrug, Sunao is clever – you can't deny that – but he's soft and lazy. It might be that his mind can make up for any flaws, but the opposite might also be true. Too much indulgence and indolence could easily lead to him wasting whatever talents he has. He is smart though, you repeat, he was able to quote an old speech from memory – not everyone could do that.

“I've made sure that he learned the wisdom of his ancestors,” Holm actually smiles a little as he tells you this, your criticisms almost immediately forgotten, “Speeches and sermons given by previous generations make up much of that wisdom. I'm glad to see that he has studied them dilligently.”

But he only used that quote, you point out, to avoid coming up with a speech of his own. If the other boy, the other candidate hadn't been there to point it out, his plagiarism would have gone unnoticed. That's another reason for keeping a second candidate in the running – it's giving Sunao good motivation to improve himself and to take his duties seriously. Without anyone to be compared against, the boy would quickly become dull.

[1/2]

>>47200167

“Yes...” Holm leans forwards, resting his chin in the cradle of his hands, “Competition – conflict – is an essential element of growth. Until now, Sunao hasn't had to worry about that.”

And he's suffered for it, you point out. He wanted an honest opinion, so you'll give him the blunt truth. Sunao might not be cut out for the job of high priest, you warn Holm, and a better candidate may come along. If that happens, it would be a mistake to give the job to Sunao – you understand that he has a way here at the Dragon's Head, and that it isn't your place to interfere in that, but such obvious favouritism could cause ill-will.

“Ill-will,” Holm repeats to himself, “Are you trying to hint towards something, in your own subtle way? Manabu's defection, say?”

He said it, you shrug, not you.

“I believe that Sunao will be a great and loyal servant to Lord Lapis,” Holm explains slowly, “Perhaps my judgement is clouded, but I have the best interests of this temple at heart. If, in time, he proves to be... unworthy of the role, I shall evaluate him as such. I was not given this role on merit of blood alone, and Sunao will not inherit it as such. Is that what you want to hear?”

Good enough, you shrug, you're glad to see that he's taking his duties seriously.

Holm glares at you for a moment, trying to judge whether or not you were being sarcastic, before sighing. “Then I believe our business is finished,” he tells you, “I appreciate being kept informed. Is there anything else you wished to bother me with?”

>Tell him about Toraji's cult connections
>Ask about his grandfather
>Leave. Your business is finished
>Ask another question... (Write in)
>Other

Look I'll be level with you:
If your son becomes High Priest, 10 years from now Lapis will become an asshole and the Nameless Temple will have to put him down.
If Toraji becomes High Priest, 10 years from now Lapis will beg for a Wanderer to end his life.

>>47200266
>>Tell him about Toraji's cult connections
>>Ask about his grandfather
We should make sure that he knows Toraji isn't a threat though.

>>47200266
>Tell him about Toraji's cult connections
>>Ask about his grandfather

>>47200273
Que?

>>47200266

>Tell him about Toraji's cult connections
Or more of what Manabu has done. Toraji tossed the book as soon as he got it.
>>Ask about his grandfather

On the subject of Manabu's defection, you begin, there is a matter that needs to be discussed. Before leaving, it seems that Manabu tried to reach out to one of the novices in an attempt to convert him. Perhaps he wanted a spy within the temple, you theorise, or perhaps he just wanted to spread a dissenting opinion. Whatever his reasons were, Manabu's efforts ended in failure – his chosen spy balked at the task. When you tracked him down, he was quick to confess.

“I see,” Holm takes the revelation with more restraint than you expected, merely scowling down at his desk and thinking hard for a moment, “This novice. Can you give me a name?”

Toraji, you tell him, his name is Toraji. The boy is no threat, you insist, and he might even prove useful in rooting out Manabu. Deciding how to punish the novice – if he deserves any punishment at all – is Holm's job, but you advise both restraint and moderation. It's always better to convert a potential spy than to eliminate them.

“Toraji, yes. I should have known,” Holm nods to himself, “Manabu was fond of the young novice – I believe he saw something of himself in him. They were both bookish types, all too willing to study before taking action. Book learning has its place, but too much of a focus can lead to indecision. I want to be sure of this, however – the boy is not compromised?”

As soon as he realised what was going on, you explain, he backed out. He may be dissatisfied with certain... aspects of the temple, but he shied away from open rebellion. Toraji is no threat.

“I'll need to speak to him myself,” Holm grunts, “I want to hear what he knows with my own ears. If he is as innocent as you claim, there will be no punishment. Complaining is not a crime, after all. Don't give me that look, Wanderer – I'm no stranger to mercy.”

Were you giving him a particular look? You hadn't noticed.

“Funny,” Holm growls, “Are you ready to leave, yet?”

[1/2]

>>47200628

First, you tell him, you wanted to ask about his grandfather. He was quite the explorer, wasn't he?

Holm goes very silent at that, studying you for any hint as to where this conversation might be going. He loses some of his bluster, regarding you instead with a kind of caution – one tempered with respect. “You've studied my family,” he says eventually, “I take great pride in my ancestry, you know.”

You've picked up on that. So, you ask, his grandfather visited an island called the Black Rock once. Did Holm ever find out why, perhaps his father mentioned something?

“If I told you that I knew nothing of this,” Holm asks, “You wouldn't believe me, would you?”

That depends, you shoot back, would he be lying?

“I would,” Holm nods, “Because any answer I might give you could put me at risk. If you know of the Black Rock, then you know of certain powers that lurk there – unwholesome things, the kind that would blacken a man's name and reputation if he was found to have... associated with them. However, you've done me a favour – giving that reporter a fair account of things here – and so, in turn, I'll give you your answers. In return, I insist,” Holm's attempt at politeness grows particularly strained here, “That you tell this to as few people as possible.”

Now you're really curious. You'll keep this as quiet as you can, you assure him – it might even be true.

“Although he wasn't a member of any cults or militant groups – the kind that attacked us here, I mean – my grandfather considered himself a defender of the gods,” Holm's lips draw tight into a thin line, “A term that has become... tainted, shall we say, by association. He believed that the gods needed soldiers to defend their temples, and he sought the strength and wit to do just that. On the Black Rock, he found what he was looking for – and the price involved.”

[2/3]

>>47200759

“He never said what it was that scared him away,” Holm continues, “Or if he did, my father never told me when the time came to pass down this particular story. Perhaps it was just the nature of war itself – for all his claims and beliefs, my grandfather was no soldier. Whatever he saw or heard, it changed him. When he came back, he sought to preach a different kind of strength. Resolve, certainty, surety of purpose... those were the virtues that he praised.”

And then he left again, you press, to seek out the warrior god for a second time?

“Yes. He left for the Black Rock once more, never to return,” Holm's face darkens, “Perhaps he grew dissatisfied with inner strength as he grew older. I cannot guess at his motives – he spoke to nobody in his last years, if he could help it.”

Old men, you say vaguely, value their privacy.

“Yes, and I'd like some privacy of my own,” Holm snarls, although there is little strength in it. He's being rude to keep up appearances, that's all. “Don't you have any work you should be doing?”

>That's right. I've been meaning to check on Sunao
>Just one last thing... (Write in)
>Other

>>47200917
>>That's right. I've been meaning to check on Sunao

>>47200917
>>That's right. I've been meaning to check on Sunao

>>47200917
>>That's right. I've been meaning to check on Sunao

He's right, of course. You've been giving them some time to work on this speech, but it's about time you checked on the pair of novices. You'll be leaving now, you assure Holm, so he can get back to... whatever it is that he does when you're not here.

“And you can get back to whatever it is you do when you're not bothering me,” Holm growls in reply, “Go on, you're making my quarters look untidy!”

Smiling slightly at Holm's insistence on being rude, you give him a formal bow and leave. He's still grumbling, you notice, even after the door closes behind you. He gets full marks for consistency, at least. Putting the old man out of your mind, you set off into the town to find Sunao and Toraji. They could be anywhere really, but it's Koa that gives you a clue to go on.

“That novice was here,” he tells you as you're passing him by, “That nervous one, you know? He had a stack of books in his hands, so I guess he was doing some research. Man, I hope he puts them back where he found them – though, I guess Howa might not be around to kill him if he doesn't. Anyway, I asked him and he said he was going, uh...” A pause, then, as Koa searches his memory, “Right, there's a quiet spot west of the market. That's what he said.”

You thank Koa for the information, pausing just long enough to ask him if he wants to come with you. It might not be much fun, you warn him.

“You know, I think I'm good here,” Koa replies with a faint smile, “I've had enough of books for now. I might take a nap, actually.”

Nice for some, you grunt, don't relax too hard. Leaving him, you head off in search of the market – not a difficult thing to find, really. All you need to do is follow the sounds of bustling crowds and loud haggling. No matter what corner of the land you're in, markets are always the same.

[1/2]

>>47201211

Passing through the market – about as busy as you had expected – you notice several pilgrims wearing those dragon masks. In this heat, you think, they must be mad to keep them on. Mad, some paranoid voice whines from the back of your mind, or desperate to conceal their faces. You try to ignore that niggling warning – after all, you've seen no weapons, save for those held at rest by soldiers or caravan guards – but it never quite leaves you.

Tawn, you think to yourself, would have a field day with this.

West of the market, just as Koa said, you find the pair of novices. Reciting words to himself, Sunao paces the length of the small square, the high walls of various buildings shielding him from prying eyes. Leaning against one of those walls, Toraji takes notes on a long scroll, occasionally crossing something out or adding something else in as he consults the various books opened around him. Clearing your throat, you draw their eyes to you.

“Hello!” Sunao greets you warmly, “It's going well, I think!”

“It's a little thrown together,” Toraji – a little more reserved in his judgement – adds, “We're not stealing anything, as such, but we're drawing on a lot of existing material. It's okay though, seems like that's what everyone does. There's, uh, not much variety here.”

“Why change something if it works?” Sunao asks in response, “If we know what Lord Lapis likes, why not use that? Well, anyway, what can I do for you?”

>I just wanted to check up on you. Good to see you hard at work
>Can I read what you've got so far?
>You've not seen anything out of the ordinary, have you?
>Other

>>47201287
>I just wanted to check up on you. Good to see you hard at work
>You've not seen anything out of the ordinary, have you?

>>47201287
>I just wanted to check up on you. Good to see you hard at work
>Can I read what you've got so far?
Afterward,
>You've not seen anything out of the ordinary, have you?

>>47201287
>>Can I read what you've got so far?
>>You've not seen anything out of the ordinary, have you?

You just wanted to check up on them, you explain, it's good to see them working hard – and working together.

“Oh, well, I couldn't do this on my own,” Toraji is quick to tell you, “Speeches are... they look pretty, uh, dumb on paper, I think. It takes a good speaker to actually make them, you know, good. That's where Sunao comes in, see?”

Well then, you nod slightly as you sit next to Toraji. Left to his own devices for now, Sunoa returns to pacing and muttering to himself. Can you have a look, you ask, at what he's got so far?

“Uh...” Toraji winces slightly, “It's not, you know, finished or anything. I don't know if you're allowed to edit it or anything either, so...”

Relax, you order as he passes the scroll across. It doesn't take you too long to skim the thing over, but you're pleasantly surprised. As Toraji warned you, it's a rough version – the tone changes rather dramatically in certain parts where they've “borrowed” from two different sources – but none of the flaws are crippling. In terms of content, the speech is fairly safe – nothing that might be considered rebellious or political, in other words.

“It's more or less a sermon, the sort of thing we'd be tasked with doing as priests,” Toraji explains, “But, uh, I tried to make it a little more... exciting, you know? Sometimes, when the priests are giving their talks, you can see people, uh, dozing off. I wanted to avoid that.”

Probably a good idea, you agree as you hand the scroll back to him. For a first draft, you tell him, it's looking promising. Keep smoothing out the edges, and you reckon they'll have a winner on their hands. Toraji looks so proud at this that you feel bad about changing the subject, but your whispering paranoia won't let the subject lie. He hasn't seem anything out of the ordinary, you ask, has he?

[1/2]

>>47201592

“We've been stuck here mostly,” Toraji apologises, “So we've not...” A pause as something occurs to him. You don't like the implications behind that pause – that alone almost seems to confirm your suspicions. “I was getting some, uh, reference materials,” Toraji begins to explain, “And I saw a bunch of those masks. You know, the blue dragon ones. You had to have seen them, right, if you came past the market.”

You saw them, you confirm as you grow cold, what about them?

“Well, it's just strange to see them,” the anxious novice shrugs, “When there isn't a major festival on, I mean. They're not forbidden or anything, but it's just a weird time to see them. There's nothing going on today. Other than our speech, I mean, but that's, you know, later.”

Those masks again. Would the cult really be bold enough to use the same tactics twice?

“You're looking a little... uh...” Toraji clears his throat nervously, “Uh, whatever it is, you know that I had nothing to do with it, right? I mean, we've gone over this – you even read my mind, so...”

Standing sharply, you cut him off with a gesture. You need to think, you mutter, you need to concentrate. Those masked pilgrims came in with a trader, riding along on the pair of wagons he had brought. Casting your mind back to when you passed through the market, you try to remember if you saw that same trader peddling his wares. It was hardly an exhaustive search, but you don't recall seeing him at all.

This could be bad.

>Calm down. It's just paranoia
>Find that trader and question him
>Seek out one of the masked pilgrims and question them
>Other

>>47201719
>Find that trader and question him
>Seek out one of the masked pilgrims and question them
One way or the other we're getting some answers.

>>47201833
>>47201719
This. Grab whoever we see first.

You can't let this lie. Even if this is just a trick born out of your growing paranoia, you won't be able to rest or relax until you've got some answers. It doesn't matter who talks – the trader or one of the pilgrims, either works – as long as you get some damn answers. Eventually, you notice the strange looks that Sunao and Toraji are throwing your way, and you try to give them a reassuring smile. Stay here, you order then both. No matter what happens, they need to stay here and stay down.

“Why?” Sunao asks, genuinely confused, “I have a right to know what's going on here!”

You're not sure yet, you snap, that's what you're trying to find out. For now, they just have to stay down and let you do your job.

“I, uh, I think we should do as he says,” Toraji – grey with fear, but somehow able to keep his voice from wavering – says, “C'mon, let's just keep practising. Take it from the top, okay?”

“Okay then,” Sunao shrugs, still not able to grasp the situation. You don't bother to explain it to him, merely turning and hurrying from the sheltered square. Almost immediately, the controlled chaos of the marketplace seems to pull you in, casting you out onto a sea of moving bodies.

Every flash of blue that you can see cries out for your attention, drawing your eye to dozens of different flashes of cloth. Scarves, sashes and even cloaks all battle for your attention, countless shades of that damn colour – sacred here, of course – all leading you astray. Then you see a more distinct shape, undeniably that of a dragon. One of the pilgrim's masks, and no mistake. The wearer, otherwise a blank and anonymous body in the crowd, is slipping through the market with a furtive step – heading, if your guess is correct, towards the temple.

Grimacing, you begin to follow them.

[1/2]

>>47202093

About halfway between the marketplace and the temple, the masked pilgrim – or cultist, if your guess is correct – takes a sudden turn. His path, previously straight and unwavering, now takes him down the cramped space between two buildings. The perfect place for an ambush, you realise, but also a good place to grab him and question him away from prying eyes. In such a tight spot, though, your sword would be close to useless.

Delving deep into one pocket, you take out the folding knife Ra gave you – you never needed it at the party, but now it will serve you well – and pull the blade to full length. The steel catches the sun as you weigh it in your hands, familiarising yourself with the balance. Then, flattening yourself against one wall, you listen down the alleyway. No footsteps – either the pilgrim is long gone, or he's waiting silently for you to follow him.

Only one way to find out.

>Please roll 1D100, aiming to beat 60/70/80. I'll take the highest of the first three rolls

Rolled 37 (1d100)

>>47202177

Rolled (1d00)

>>47202177

Rolled 8 (1d100)

>>47202177
pls

Rolled 38 (1d100)

>>47202177

Fuck. We just recovered from a serious wound damnit.

Rolled 79 (1d100)

>>47202260
>>47202177
That's a mistake.

>>47202289
...................... curse you

Are there any spells that could possibly make us even slightly less fucked?

>>47202354
None. Not even sublime strike would help us.

>>47202354

>Right now, Ira has enough time to use one spell card. I'll cut the next post slightly short, so we can decide which one might best to use. Writing the next post now, so please hold!

>>47202354
Ded man's respite would make the wound non max health worthy.

>>47202354
Porcelain skin. Half damage and half redirected.

Holding the knife out in front of you – it doesn't quite feel natural yet, clutched in your sweat-slick grip – you take a deep breath and press forwards into the alleyway. A few steps in, and you hear the first sound of trouble. It could almost pass for your own footsteps echoing in the tight space, save for the fact that when you stop, they only grow faster. Stopping, you realise, was a mistake.

You don't see what the masked attacker hits you with, but it connects with the back of your skull and sends you sprawling forwards, crumpling to the ground as pain explodes in your head. The knife skitters out from your grip, bouncing and rattling away from your hasty attempt at grabbing it. Through a shimmering veil of pained tears, you see another pair of boots stomping forwards into your field of view. Two of them, you think, and they've got you close to helpless. Stay calm and think, you urge yourself, you're not dead yet.

“Shit man, what do we do?” one voice calls from behind you, wavering in and out as your head spins, “We shoot him, we bring every soldier in this place down on us.”

“He had a knife,” the other voice replies, “I'll get it. Make sure he's down – I don't trust him to stay out.”

“Manabu isn't gonna like this...” the first voice mutters as he circles around to you, drawing back a foot to kick you in the guts.

One chance at this – you've got to pick your next move carefully.

>Use a spell card?

>>47202483
Did we take health damage?

>>47202502

>Not yet, but that kick will potentially open up our gut wound if we don't take any of the force out of it.

>>47202483
Skin of Porcelain sounds good.

>>47202532
Alright we can use dead man respite, AS the mountain, of porcelain skin. We could also use Mandy's spell to try and accelerate our healing and give us a boost next round.


I am voting respite for best mitigation

>>47202577
Dead man reduces our max + we take half damage from the attack.

Skin we just take half and can counter with the redirect.

>>47202483
Skin of Porcelain.

>>47202638
Dead lasts the ENTIRE fight not one round.

>>47202670
Use Dead when we are 80 or under. You're just wasting health otherwise.

>>47202483
Skin of porcelain. It's our best shot for blocking the kick.

>Alright, looks like Skin of Porcelain wins this one. Writing the next post now - apologies for the delay, a small errand came up.

This is going to hurt, you realise, but it's just you who's going to suffer. As the thug swings his boot into your guts – still fragile and vulnerable, recovering from that ghastly knife wound – you feel your skin harden and crack, taking on the brittle strength of porcelain. How long has it been, you wonder absurdly, since you got involved with those damn artists? It seems like an age ago now, but the gift their patron god left behind is as precious as ever.

When the boot strikes you, the shield formed around your stomach shatters, blasting out with explosive force and knocking your attacker back. Just as you expected, it feels like you've been struck by a hammer, but the brittle armour takes the worst of the blow. Yelling out a panicked curse, the cultist tumbles backwards, blood gushing from his boot. That might be a toe, you realise, lying there a few inches from the rest of his foot.

What a shame.

>Current health: 85/100

With your first attacker too busy crying and clutching his mutilated foot to offer any resistance, you fumble your pistol out and take aim at his startled friend. He has a gun of his own in his trembling hands – a cult revolver, and no mistake – but he doesn't shoot. Not yet.

“Either of us shoots,” he stammers, “And those soldiers will be here. You think they'll be in a mood to take prisoners, after what happened here the last time?”

So, you retort, he should drop his gun.

“We'll both drop them,” he offers, taking one hand from the grip and slowly lowering it to hover by his belt, “Then we can... we can talk about this, okay?”

Now he wants to talk?

>Shoot him
>Lower your gun
>Other

>>47203000
>Lower your gun
>Towards the Great land assisted punch.

>>47203000
>Lower your gun
>Other
Vine him when he thinks we are letting our guard down then knock out his friend with a boot to the face.

"Yeah we can talk."

>>47203045
>>47203000
This, keep his hands and feet bound as soon as the vines come up.

>>47203045
This

If you can settle this without firing a shot, you'll take that chance. Besides, there's no way of knowing which of these two idiots has the information you need. Better to keep them both alive for now. Just stay calm, you tell the gunman, you're going to slowly lower your gun.

“Right, right,” he nods, a sickly smile touching his lips, but nothing higher than that. His eyes remain wild and panicked, rolling back and forth as he tries to think. As soon as your gun is touching the ground, you swipe your hand up and call upon Hyacinth's gift, as cruel and prickly as the goddess herself. Ropes of vine burst from the ground, from the walls around you both, and ensnare the cultist, two spreading his arms wide as a third coils around both legs. Flying free from his grip – so cunningly concealed until now – your knife clatters to the ground once more.

Now, you snarl as you rise to your feet, he can talk. Without breaking stride, you kick his groaning companion in the face, silencing his moans. With that little matter sorted, you lurch towards the gunman and pick up your knife, holding it a small inch from his nose.

His buddy, you nod towards the comatose man, said the name “Manabu”. That's a good place to start talking, if he wants to stay alive.

“Okay, look, let's not do anything rash,” the gunman offers, “Yeah, I know the name. We all know the name. Manabu, see, he's our boss. He brought us here so we could take what's ours.”

And what, you ask, is his?

“This!” he hisses, “This place, the temple! Manabu says that it's been bound to the Momose family for too long, it's growing stagnant. Rivers, see, they don't stand still, so why should the temple? We'd take over, all clean and calm, and things can start going right for us again!”

>Where is Manabu now?
>Are you part of the Seer's cult?
>You call this clean and calm?
>Other

>>47203325
>Where is Manabu now?
>Are you part of the Seer's cult?
I wonder if Manabu was the trader boss guy.

>>47203325
>You call this clean and calm?
"And what of collateral damage? Are you willing to risk the lives of innocent priests just because Manabu is a jealous child? Holm may have been the son of the last priest but he has been doing a good job. If he didn't then there should be a change of leadership but right now you are just the instrument of Manabu's envy. Now..."


>Where is Manabu now?
>Are you part of the Seer's cult?

>>47203325
>You call this clean and calm?
>Where is Manabu now?

>>47203325
>>47203378
this

>>47203325
>You call this clean and calm?
>Where is Manabu now?
>Are you part of the Seer's cult?
I'm actually starting to think they have nothing to do with the Seer

>>47203414
Well Manabu was recruited by Seer, but Manabu might be in charge of his own 'cell' of like minded people that don't like Holm and is making his move independently. They are armed with cult weapons however.

>>47203498
Ah, yeah you're right. It's just that these two are a fair bit different from your average cultist so it got me thinking that Manabu might just be working on his own but the weapons certainly prove otherwise.

Clean and calm, you repeat as you gesture at the alleyway, is this what he calls clean and calm?

“We never thought we'd run into this kinda trouble,” he whines, “A few soldiers, that's all we were expecting. Manabu said we'd just arm up and take the temple – we get the drop on them, they wouldn't fight back, see?”

And what about the collateral damage, you ask, if they DID fight back? A lot of innocent priests might die because of this, because Manabu is a stupid, jealous child. Perhaps Holm walked into his postion because of his family, you admit, but he's been doing a damn good job at the moment. If he didn't, there would have been a change in leadership long ago. A legitimate one, you add a second later, not this... envious tantrum.

“Manabu said-” the gunman starts, but you cut him off.

Manabu this, you snap, Manabu that – but where is he now?

“He... he'll be at the market. We were supposed to meet there, us and our friends,” he shakes his head quickly, “Good men and women, believers in the cause. We've even got a man inside the temple itself...”

Not any more they don't, you think to yourself. Then, a thought strikes you – is he actually part of the Seer's cult, you ask, or does he follow Manabu alone?

“I don't know anything about a cult,” he whines, “Look, Manabu said that he had powerful friends, that's where he got these guns, but I don't know anything about a Seer or a cult or... or...” Then, he falls silent. “You said “Seer”, didn't you?” he asks a moment later, some faint spark of hope entering his eyes, “I've got information, you cut me down and I'll tell you everything.”

A moment ago, you point out, he didn't know anything about a Seer. What changed?

“He never used the word “Seer”, but...” another shake of the head, “Cut me down. Let me go, and I'll talk.”

>Release him
>Leave him bound and call for the guards
>Execute him
>Other

>>47203533
Well Seer having his own agent in charge of Dragon's Head would be a huge boon for him. Manabu could amp up anti-Railroad radicalism for Seer, giving him more soldiers and overall just being bad shit for us.

Obviously Seer is just using Manabu, but as long as Manabu is in charge of Dragon's Head he probably doesn't care.

>>47203568
>Information first, then I'll consider letting you go.
He doesn't seem like a "true believer," shouldn't be too hard to get him to spill it.

>>47203568
I can rip the memories from your mind if I have too, talk

>>47203568
>Other
"Information first buddy. You be cooperative, I'll release you from these binds. If you are uncooperative I can use magic to rip the memories from your mind painfully or hell I could just kill you and question your friend here instead. I can be merciful but, I have a really short temper."

>>47203568
>Other
I don't think you fully understand your situation. You tell me what I want to know, or I pluck it from your mind. It wont be pleasant. If you cooperate, you'll be occupying a cell tonight instead of a grave.

Too edgy? Just trying to scare him a bit.

>>47203685
>Too edgy? Just trying to scare him a bit.
Nah intimidation seems to be one of Ira's strong points and his position as a Wander adds to the scariness.

Information first, you counter, and then you'll consider letting him go.

“Hey!” he protests, “But if I talk, then you've got no reason to let me go!”

And if he doesn't have any information worth a damn, you've got no reason to let him go. So, you point out, that leaves you both in quite the conundrum. That means a difficult situation, you explain as you notice the confused look on his face. If he cooperates and just gives you the information you want, you'll let him go. If that doesn't suit him, you can just take the information from him.

“I'm not scared of you,” he lies, “Your torture won't work on me...”

Who said anything about torture? You don't need that kind of thing, you tell him with a cold smile, not when you can rip the memories right out of his mind. Then he'd have nothing of value, nothing worth keeping him alive for – if he plays nice, he might end up in a cell rather than a grave tonight.

For a moment, it looks like the thug is going to keep playing tough, but something in your voice – or possibly the knife hovering close to his face – loosens his tongue. “Okay,” he blurts out, “Okay, look. I don't know anything about a Seer, I wasn't lying when I said that, but Manabu said something once, something about a prophet.”

Prophet, Seer, close enough to get you interested. You gesture for him to continue, pressing the flat of the knife against his cheek when he is slow to talk.

“See, when he gave us these guns, he said they were gifts – gifts from a “false prophet” or something,” he nods eagerly, “So, the way I see it, maybe those powerful friends he had aren't his friends any more, right?”

Manabu, you think, might have parted company with the Seer. A difference of opinions, perhaps?

“So you're gonna let me go, right?” the thug pleads, “We had a deal, right?”

>Release him, call for the guards
>Release him, let him leave
>Execute him. You can't risk letting him live
>Other

>>47203863
"Yep."
>Other
Have the vines choke him to unconsciousness then call the guards.

>>47203863
>Release him, call for the guards
"You made the right choice. If you and friends have't hurt anyone you might even get off easy."

Also,
>Call of the guards
>Then release him

Rather not chase the fucker down

>>47203863
>Call for the guards, release him to them

He made the right decision, you tell the fearful pilgrim. He might even get off easily, if nobody ends up getting hurt by the end of the day.

“So you're actually going to let me go?” he asks, that faint hope growing stronger, strong enough to outweigh his fear, “I mean, alive?”

Sure, you tell him lightly. Then, flicking out a finger, you shift one of the tendrils to his throat, choking him unconscious. As he splutters and gasps, you leave the alleyway and look for a soldier – as always, there's never one when you need one. You have to travel a few streets before finding a pair of them, talking quietly and sharing furtive sips from a flask. Typical Imperial efficiency. They don't quite believe you when you tell them about the pair of rebels you've captured, only following you back to the alleyway so you'll leave them alone.

“Oh,” one of the soldier stammers when you reach the alleyway, his eyes widening at the sight of two comatose civilians, “I... oh...”

Exactly, you tell him grimly.

“Right then,” the second – and more professional – soldier says, “Time for you to leave, friend. This is army business now, leave this to the professionals.”

When you find them, you tell him politely, you'll let them know. It looks like he's about to protest, the joke taking a moment to sink in, but you turn and leave. You've got more important things to do than babysitting a pair of soldiers as they drag their slumbering prisoners to the cells. You need to find Manabu, before he launches his attack. He should be at the marketplace, but where? Was he travelling in the guise of a trader, or is he hiding behind one of those dragon masks?

Toraji might know – at the very least, he'd be able to recognise Manabu's face. This is no place, though, for a young man like him. This is serious.

>Find the trader
>Fetch Toraji and have him help you search
>Take this to Holm and the rest of the military
>Other

>>47204129
>Fetch Toraji and have him help you search
Maybe Toraji can put on one of those dragon masks? So that Manabu won't tell it's him while we are searching for him.

>>47204129
>Fetch Toraji and have him help you search
Have him subtly point Manabu out to us then he can leave the area or stay depending on the situation.

>>47204129
>Fetch Toraji and have him help you search

>>47204129
>>47204163
This sounds good. The guy we followed had a mask we could use.

Danger aside, it'll be a lot quicker to find Manabu if you've got Toraji to point him out for you. If you give the boy a mask to keep his identity hidden, it should help to keep him safe. With that thought in mind, you scoop up one of the discarded masks – abandoned by the pilgrim you had been chasing - and tuck it under your arm. Keeping an eye out for any other flashes of blue as you walk, you return to the secluded square. Hopefully, Sunao won't mind you borrowing his friend for a while.

It doesn't look like much would bother Sunao, in fact. The boy is sleeping soundly, dozing in a pool of shade as Toraji reads over his notes once more. Hushing Toraji's greeting, you steer him away and quietly explain the situation. With his eyes growing wide and fearful, Toraji listens in silence.

“I'll help,” he rasps, “If I see Manabu, I can point him out, or... or I'll nod. Something like that.” Then, taking the mask you offer to him, he pulls it over his face. It seems to calm him somewhat, having his identity covered up. “But...” he asks quietly, “Why now? Why did this have to happen now?”

You couldn't say, you tell him, not for sure. In your more private speculations, however, you wonder if it might be linked with Aya's newspaper. Could Manabu have seen the Seer for the fraud he really was and abandoned him? It's possible, but the prospect of the Seer's cult splintering into countless smaller cells is hardly a cheerful idea to consider. With the Seer in total control, you had someone you could deal with, someone you could hold to account. Now, though? It could be chaos.

Shaking your head, you push the idea out of your mind. Focus on the task at hand, you tell yourself, focus on finding Manabu. So, following the masked Toraji, you enter the marketplace once more.

[1/2]

>>47204452

There's something vaguely canine in the way that Toraji looks around him, as if he'd start to sniff the air at any minute. The mask he wears is crude, crafted from paper pulp and daubed with a thick layer of blue paint. Too big for him, as well, and he is constantly adjusting it. Perhaps it's just another expression of his anxiety, now that he can't stammer out a few meaningless words. You just hope he doesn't let himself get distracted.

Then, as you enter a random corner of the marketplace, you spot the trader. He's easy to recognise, now that you know what to look for – he's the only one not selling anything, sitting atop a pile of sealed crates and sending curious shoppers away with a curt glare. Still far enough away that the crowds shield you from view, you push Toraji a few paces closer. He stares at the trader for a long moment, and then turns back to you. Then, the gesture heavy with suppressed fear, he shakes his head.

Not Manabu, then. But where-

“There!” Toraji shouts suddenly, all stealth and subtlety forgotten as he points into the crowd. Following his finger you spy an uncommonly tall figure, his face as masked as the other pilgrims you've seen. Yet, that shout also draws Manabu's attention, and he turns to flee into the maze of streets. You need to catch him, before he can melt away into the crowd.

>Please roll 1D100, aiming to beat 60 or 80. I'll take the highest of the first three!
>Towards the Great Land will give a +20 modifier on this test, if you choose to use it.

Rolled 23 (1d100)

>>47204512
Using Great Land.

Rolled 30 (1d100)

>>47204512

Rolled 18 (1d100)

>>47204512
Clutch

>>47204601
>>47204604
>>47204612
well shit

Sub 40 rolls for the ones that count all day today Jesus.

>>47204632
Iv'e seen WAY worse.
I'm just glad Moloch only asks for 2 or 3 rolls every given thread unless it's combat heavy.

Shame we didn't bring Koa with us...

Pressing forwards through the crowd, you find yourself fighting against the current, confused traders, shoppers and countless other idiots from countless walks of life getting in your way and slowing you down. A deep and black anger slowly builds within you, urging you to carve out a path with your blade – or, at least to fire a shot into the air. Anything to clear these fools from your path – can't they see that you're in a hurry?

When, at long last, a path opens up before you, a rush of magic lends your pace a terrible haste. The last time you saw him, Manabu had been slipping away into some alleys, but now he could be anywhere – those cramped streets have no order to them, he might even emerge only a few feet away from his entrance, vanishing once more into the crowd. Your dash takes you right up to that entrance, but no further. Something heavy crashes into you, the bulky form of a muscular thug tackling you and knocking you, once more, to the ground. With the snarling blue of his dragon mask taunting you, the thug begins to swing rough punches at you.

This cretin is a distraction, and nothing more. You return his clumsy blows with skilled jabs of your own, crushing his windpipe with one vicious punch. As he chokes, clutching at his throat with jerky hands, the thug rolls away from you. Then, as you're climbing to your feet to give chase, the sound of a gunshot shatters the evening air.

Manabu, his tall frame unmistakable, has a smoking revolver in one hand and Toraji's arm in the other, holding the struggling boy close. When he knows that he has your undivided attention, he lowers the gun and presses the barrel to Toraji's temple.

“I don't know who you are,” Manabu says, his voice muffled by the mask he still wears, “But you've made a dire mistake. I didn't want any of this, this... ugliness.”

>So put the gun down, Manabu. Let's talk
>All this, because being assistant high priest wasn't enough?
>Take a shot. It's difficult, but...
>Other

>>47204854
>>So put the gun down, Manabu. Let's talk

>>47204854
>>So put the gun down, Manabu. Let's talk
Water spell to calm him down.

>>47204854
This:
>>47204956

>>47204854
>So put the gun down, Manabu. Let's talk

Don't we have a water spell for calming the hostile?

>>47205093

>We do, yes. It won't buy us complete trust, but it will certainly smooth things out a little.

As the ringing in your ears slowly fades and the lunatic focus gripping your mind begins to relax, you realise that the marketplace is rapidly emptying, those fools that had been blocking your path just a few moments ago now scattered to the four winds. Soon, it'll be just you, Toraji and Manabu – a happy little gang. Well, until the soldiers arrive, of course, but you hope they have the good sense to hang back. All it would take is for one trigger-happy soldier to try his luck, and Toraji is as good as dead.

Put the gun down, you call out, and then maybe you can talk.

“Please,” Manabu replies, cold contempt in his voice, “The minute I let either go – the boy or the gun – I lose any leverage I might hope to have. No, this is a stalemate, but it's far better than any alternative.”

Just calm down, you tell him as you begin to pluck at the magic surrounding you both. Even if you can just get him to trust you a little bit, it might open a crack in his defences. At first, your words – and your magic – don't seem to reach him, but then he hesitates. Reaching up with one hand, the hand still wrapped around the grip of a pistol, he claws the mask away. At least he's willing to give you a human face to look at – not much, but definitely an improvement.

“I'm calm,” Manabu lies, returning the barrel of his gun to Toraji's head, “Please, tell me – do you think either of us can walk away from this with a smile on our face? This is a terrible mess, I won't deny it, but... but what else can I do? The minute you got involved, this moment became inevitable – it's like a river, don't you see? Events flow in one direction only, leading us to where we stand.”

That's bullshit, you argue, he's got plenty of choices. He could put that gun down, to start with, make sure nobody else gets hurt.

“I told you already,” he snaps, “I need any leverage I can get. My life depends on it. What about you – you could just walk away.”

[1/2]

>>47205261

No, you tell him sadly, you can't do that. It's not how you think.

“Then whatever happens,” Manabu tells you, “Is as much your fault as it is mine. I wanted to make this place better, don't you see? To free it from an unjust rule, to put power in the hands of those who have earned it! All I wanted to do was to make things fairer – if I had become the head of the temple all those years ago, this would never have needed to happen!”

Manabu is no hardened rebel or terrorist leader, you realise with dismay, he's just about as terrified as Toraji is. What you're looking at isn't an attempt at seizing power, it's a series of terrible life choices, all culminating in this farce of a hostage taking. As you're thinking of your next attempt to talk some sense into Manabu something catches your eye, a metallic glint from behind the former priest. Skulking in the distance, holding his whistle out like a talisman, Sunao is watching the scene with terrified eyes.

That bird of his, you wonder, just how well trained is it?

“You bring Holm here,” Manabu rants, “And maybe we can work something out. He'll stand down, and give me the job. That's a start. Then... then...”

He's got no idea of what he's doing. He's just stalling for time, trying to buy a few more precious seconds to come up with a plan. That, you think ruefully, makes two of you.

>Signal Sunao. Hopefully, he'll understand
>Get Holm. You might as well play along for now
>Try to take a shot. It's risky, but you could end this now
>Talk some more... (Write in)
>Other

>>47205338
>Signal Sunao. Hopefully, he'll understand
then
>Try to take a shot. It's risky, but you could end this now

>>47205338
>>Signal Sunao. Hopefully, he'll understand
Even if it just distracts him it'll give us a chance.

>>47205338
>>Signal Sunao. Hopefully, he'll understand

>>47205338
>tell me about Lapis, Manabu.
>about what kind of message, what kind of leadership you would bring in his name
Could we have used the web spell at any time searching for the cultists?

>>47205579
>Could we have used the web spell at any time searching for the cultists?

>We probably could, now I think about it. The cultists would have far stronger connections than normal people would, so as long as we had one cultist, it would have helped find the others.
>Writing the next post now, regardless. It'll have to be the last story post of the night, though.

>>47205680
Well be sure to sublime strike the shot if we are taking it.

The idea of putting your faith in a bird - even one as spectacular as the one Sanao has as a pet - sticks in your throat, but right now you don't have a whole lot of other options. In fact, you're not sure which one of the pair you trust less – the bird, or its owner. With the terrified look splashed across Sunao's face, you might yell out exactly what you want him to do, and he still might not get it.

Well. One way to find out. Praying to all the gods in the land – please, you ask, give that boy a spark of inspiration – you give him a sharp nod.

He doesn't react. Not for a few seconds, at least – a few of the longest seconds you've ever experienced. Then, with agonizing slowness, he lifts the silver whistle to his lips and blows sharply. That's when time seems to pick up speed once more, snapping from painful slowness to chaotic haste in an instant. Like a thunderbolt, the screeching bird plunges down from the sky with talons forwards, swooping down at Manabu.

You have no idea how Sunao got his pet to do that, but you're not going to question the opportunity. With Manabu flailing wildly, Toraji is able to wriggle free and fling himself as low as possible, leaving you with a clean line of fire. That's an opening you don't waste. Taking aim, careful to aim low enough that you won't hit the attacking bird, you put a bullet in Manabu, dropping him to the ground. Then, and only then, does Sunao call off his pet with a second shrill whistle.

With the bird taking to the air once more, you carefully approach Manabu, kicking away his revolver. You needn't have bothered – he doesn't have long left.

[1/2]

>>47205771

Talk, you order as you kneel by the dying man. Then, in a kind voice, you ask him about Lapis. What message would he have spread, you ask, what kind of leadership would be bring in his name? Does he even know, or was anything good enough as long as it wasn't Holm delivering the message?

“It would...” he rasps, “It would have been something... better than this...”

And the Seer, you ask, what about him?

“I would keep this place safe from his kind,” Manabu insists, his eyes pleading with you, pleading to be believed, “I wanted no part of it, not... not when I knew what he was. He is no seer, he is... he is a false prophet. I'm not the only one...”

The only one, you ask, the only what?

“The only one... to break away,” he whispers, his eyes fluttering closed, “He's losing it all... all except the lowest of the low.”

And then, with one long rattling exhalation, Manabu grows still. The whole world, in fact, seems to grow still. Sitting there, kneeling by the slowly cooling corpse, you can do nothing but process that last warning he gave you. Words from a dying man are weighty things, not to be easily dismissed.

The lowest of the low, huh?

>I think I'll finish this there for tonight. Next thread on Friday, I believe, and I can stick around for a short while in case of any questions. Long thread today, so thanks to everyone who stuck around!

>>47205803
Thanks for running.

With people already breaking away is there still any merit in that 'debate Seer' plan?

>>47205803
Damn this was a tense thread. This could have gone a lot better for everyone with some better rolls but shit happens.

>>47205874

It's looking a lot less likely, unfortunately. I hadn't quite pictured how things would develop when the idea first came up, so I wasn't prepared to dismiss it out of hand. Still, I feel it was an interesting idea to consider - and we might have needed it, if the Seer wasn't already being pushed hard.

>>47205918

I've got to admit, I wasn't expecting such low rolls. I had to do a little bit of hasty adjustment to take them into account. All part of the fun, though!