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>>154453

As Kiyya takes you deeper into the wilds, the terrain around you slowly changes shape. The crags of uneven, rocky earth gives way gradually to smaller formations of stone, shrinking in height until they nearly disappear altogether. You run your hand across a nearby boulder – it feels polished smooth as glass. The ground beneath you also changes, from gravel and rocks brushed with smaller grains into softer and softer sand that grows deeper with each mile. Everywhere, the tiny flakes of bone-white sandglass make the desert look almost like snow.

As you climb a ridge, you find it easier to step in the imprints left by the hooves of Kiyya’s horse. Standing beside Kirari and Dorje, you look out across the wasteland before you, still bathed in the final hour of the day’s sunlight. A great earthen sea stretches into the distance, mountains of sand piled high by the winds into wave-like mountains. In the very far distance lie the mountains, but between you and them is nothing but a world of swirling dust.

Kiyya is true to her word. Before the day breaks again, she leads you through the twisting sand cliffs and over their crests, until she stops on a particular patch of ground not visibly different from any other patch of ground you have passed over so far.

“Tayya,” she says, looking around for something. “Tayya ku-resh...” the girl dismounts, kneeling on the ground and brushing pale sand from a smaller mound nearby. Concealed beneath it is a small, round boulder, laid carefully atop other smoothed stones. She pushes it aside and reveals the shaft of a well beneath.

--------------------

>Talk to Kirari
>Talk to Dorje
>Try to talk to Kiyya
>Try to talk to Royt
>Explore the surroundings
>Write-in

>>154466

Examine surroundings.

Also we should burn XP to heal us back to full strength

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>>154466

Twitter: https://twitter.com/Ignoble_dark
Questions: http://ask.fm/Ignoble_dark
Archive: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?searchall=laughing+dog

>Voting

Most posts will be narrative, with the player and QM working together to create a worthy story. Every post will provide at least one might-based, nobility-based, and artifice-based avenue if applicable to the situation, and write-ins are both permitted and encouraged. Players vote for their preferred option, with majority determining the final choice. However, in the case of especially critical events, called “trials,” fate will be given its due through the roll of dice.

>Trials

During trials, after the majority have chosen a course of action, the QM will then roll 1d10, add the player’s relevant Aspect (Might, Nobility, or Artifice), and add any relevant bonuses from items or context. If the resulting sum meets the trial’s threshold, the player succeeds. If the sum falls short of the threshold, the player fails. For each margin of 3 the player exceeds or fails the threshold by, the outcome will be more severe (either positive or negative). Poor rolls by players in combat trials are assigned as enemy hits.

The thresholds for each trial are known only by the QM, and are different for every option. Depending on the situation, one option or another will probably be easier than the others. Sneaking past the elite palace guard will be easier than fighting all of them. Killing the feral tribe of cannibals is probably easier than talking them down diplomatically. This could change, of course, if the player is particularly proficient with one Aspect and deficient in another. Perhaps your Artifice is so bad that Might is the better option for getting past those palace guard, after all. Players should consider which approach is most likely to succeed given both the context of the trial and the character’s own skillset.

>Criticals

A trial roll of 10 that passes the threshold is a critical success, and reaps additional benefits. Conversely, a 1 that fails the threshold is a critical failure, and has additional consequences. A 10 that fails to beat the threshold still fails, but the player receives some accommodation, insight, or unforeseen benefit in the attempt. Likewise, a 1 that passes the threshold succeeds, but with a minor hiccup or unforeseen complication.

>Damage

Damage dealt by an enemy is equal to half its Might score (rounding down), and is applied to a character’s weapons and armor first. Once all weapons and armor are damaged, excess damage is assigned to a random Aspect (M, N, or A) by rolling 1d3. That Aspect is permanently reduced by this damage until it is repurchased with XP. Should any Aspect reach 0, the character is crippled and incapacitated until 1 week of medical attention restores the first dot of each Aspect. If any Aspect falls below 0, the character suffers death.

>>154477
Second that. Also, what do we need to repair our broken weapons?

>>154526

Time, skill, and raw materials. You have the first two, not the third.

>>154477
>>154526

Writing, also how much xp and on what aspects? It's 2xp multiplied by the number of dot in question, so getting back to Might 3, for example, is 3x2=6 xp. Might 4 is an additional 4x2=8 xp after that, etc.

Writing for exploration

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>>154466

Everyone mutters thanks to Kiyya for leading the group to the cache of water, especially Royt. Despite their differences, he says a few words you can only assume are of praise as he reaches down to draw some water for himself.

After you have all hydrated and eaten, you look around a bit, listening to the noises of the desert such as they were. Climbing back to the summit of the nearest steep sand mountain, you survey the landscape.

Nothingness. No scrub plants, no insects, sparse few rock formations...just sand everywhere, great tides of it like a motionless ocean during a tempest frozen in time. Some things occur to you immediately as the military implications of the terrain begin to become apparent. You grab a handful of the sand and run it through your fingers, examining it closely.

It was light, and easily carried by the wind as it poured to the ground. The same bone-like shards were ever present in it texture. If the winds picked up, you imagined the entire landscape would move overnight. There were no landmarks, then. No way to find the precise location of things. How Kiyya could possibly have found that tiny well in this desolate abyss was unreal to you. You imagine this is a place armies could never tread.

--------------------

>Go further
>Return to camp for the night
>Talk to Kiyya
>Talk to Royt
>Talk to Dorje
>Talk to Kirari

>>154619
>Return to camp for the night

>>154641

Try to remember about our life/death as well.

I'd say we try to talk with Kiyya if possible to determine if we should stay here or move on.

>>154691
As for the XP, i say we use it to bring it up the way it was before for a start. Forgot to write this down in a previous post.

>>154619
>Return to camp for the night

>>154722

Agree to this. We can reassess after we're fully healed.

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>>154641
>>154677

(Sorry for the delay, my boss called)

You descend from the dune back into the company of the others. Kiyya does not appear to want to stay for the night - she is watering her horse and drawing extra for the journey. It makes sense - traveling by night is the safest option in this heat.

Royt seems disappointed to move again in such short order, voicing some protests to your guide who promptly just ignores him. You are on her schedule it seems, and fall in line behind her to continue onwards.

The hours drag by mostly in silence, just the winds across the crests of sand and the sounds of footfalls to distract you from your thoughts.

"It's beautiful, in a way," Kirari remarks from your side as you march on. "This desert. I know how dangerous it is, but it has a beauty to it."

"I wouldn't use the word 'beauty'," Dorje retorts, looking over the great canyons and spires of sand around him. "Alien. I don't feel like I belong here."

"I don't think any living thing belongs here," you agree. "But yes, it is beautiful."

The hours pass by, and you begin to think Kiyya intends to set pace through the early morning. As the sun rises, however, she points ahead, waving you over to her. A single rock formation sits like an island in a endless sea, its features washed away by wind and sand until only rounded nubs remain of its former glory.

"Camp."

The rocks have a cleft between them large enough for a band of men to take cover inside if they wished. You also notice that the stone have been worked - added to, even. A sort of dugout has been built into the rock's side which Kirari leads everyone into. Inside, there is a tiny pool of water.

(spending XP on Might, then. You can buy Might back up to 4 for 14, leaving 4 leftover. The fifth dot will be 10, so you need 6 more to be back where you started.)

--------------------

>Explore this area
>Talk to Kiyya
>Talk to Kirari
>Talk to Dorje
>Talk to Royt

>>154879
>Talk to Kirari

>>154886

And Kiyya. Try to learn a little more of her language if possible

>>154919
Second this.

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>>154886
>>154919

You take a quick look around the perimeter, then duck inside the crevice into the hollow shelter. The marks of chisels and other tools can be seen on the doorway as you duck through it, evidence of the work that had gone into creating this little sanctuary in the middle of nowhere. It is cooler inside than out, though crowded and a bit rancid. There isn't much room, and not only have all of you joined your guide to re-hydrate at the pool of water within, but she has brought her horse, as well. The stallion is culled up in a half-circle on the far wall, its rider sitting against him is a display of absolute trust.

Kirari is already speaking with the girl, patiently trying to parse out her language. You join them.

"Your home?" Kirari asks her. "What is its name?" Name?"

"Home? Amar-set. Home," she answers. In place of fondness, though, you detect something else - a sadness when she says its name.

"Can you understand her?" you ask Kirari.

"Not very well, no. We do share some words, but not the same letters. She does not understand our scripts," Kirari says, pointing to the jagged glyphs she has drawn in the dirt floor. "Those are her peoples'."

The girl's tribe - the Imashet - had a more curved, smooth form of script than your own, yet you recognize some similarities. A coincidence?

--------------------

>How could she speak a dialect of our language when we have never met their tribe before?
>Could they have copied our script?
>How does she know our tribe's name, but not we hers?
>Write-in

>>154963
>How could she speak a dialect of our language when we have never met their tribe before?

>>154963

Ask her about the Temple! She knows the area, she must know something about the Temple we woke up in

>>154963
oh, this is a good one: >>155038

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>>154988

"Why should she speak a dialect of our language, and not our true language?" you ask aloud, piecing the mystery together. What did you know about this girl and her people?

Your share at least the semblance of both a written and an oral language. She knows you by name or reputation. Her people paint their skin much as the Korathi mark themselves with tattoos...

"They are our legacy," you conclude.

"Our...legacy?" Kirari asks.

"We can not know how long we were buried in that monastery, Kirari. A year. A decade...what if it was even longer than that?" You look over the girl, the characters painting across her shoulders and those inked into your own. "What if we were buried there for centuries...for an age?"

Kirari looks pale as she contemplates your theory. "Long enough to be forgotten."

You nod. "Long enough that our words could change, that those we left behind would grow into something else...like her."

Kirari shakes her head. "But...we would have rotted away into dust if that were true. How could we possibly have been preserved that long?"

"I don't know, just like I don't know how we could awake from the dead, either." Which reminds you...

You draw a picture in the dirt beside their lines of letters - the etching you say on the walls of the monastery. A star, falling from the heavens over a great city.

"Do you know this, child?"

She looks it over, but shakes her head. "Nei."

You suppose this also makes some sense - had others known about your burial there, you imagine your crypt would have been looted long ago just like the temple above it. You were no closer yet to resolving that mystery.

--------------------

>Ask Kiyya something else about your mysterious origins
>Ask to learn some of her language first
>Discuss with Dorje and Kiyya
>Talk with Royt
>Write-in

>>155122
>Ask to learn some of her language first

>>155122
>Ask to learn some of her language first

>>155167

Backing.

>>155190
Backing again.

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Rolled 10, 2, 10 = 22 (3d10)

>>155167
>>155190
>>155195

You wouldn't know more until you could communicate with more people than just your two kinsmen. "We must learn their language if we are to ever find out what happened to us. I cannot place faith in our memories returning with any clarity."

"Yes, I agree," Kirari says.

You summon Dorje over, as well, forming a tight circle in the darkness. It is hardly comfortable, but far preferable to the baking hell outside. "Kiyya, your words."

"Words?"

"Teach us," you say, gesturing between the two of you to represent conversation. "Teach us your words."

"I teach Kora-thei, teach words of Imashei."

Royt dozes by himself, worn out from the night's long march as the three of you study Kiyya's tongue. It is frustrating work - you don't remember much from your life before death, but you are confident you were not a linguist. Her people use sounds your mouth simply never tried to make before. Still, over time patterns emerge. The names of other tribes -

Kora-thei. Imashei. Najjathei - the people of the city Royt spoke of. Then, some more familiar names: Cael-durei. Ty-gerei. (see lore discovered previously, "Theft of Laughter").

Some words she spoke with reverence, almost sung like poetry. Others were obvious curses, designed to be as ugly as possible. The word for Gnoll was Krudesh, spoken is the same tone one would speak of vomit. There was certainly a long and painful history behind their cultures.

(Rolling Nobility for all three Korathi, Kejeral +4, Kirari +5, Dorje +2 in that order to learn a foreign language).

1/2

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>>155344

(two critical successes! And from the people you'd least expect, wow)

Slowly, piece by piece, it starts to fall into place. The logic of how she forms phrases, of how sounds are strung together comes to you. In an ephiphany, you speak your first Imashet sentence.

"I...am Kejeral. Keje Ro-ri-carei."

"Kalasen!" Kiyya exclaims, clearly impressed.

"Dor-jesh, Ak-retei," Dorje says, following your lead.

"Ki-Kirarei..." Kirari struggles, tripping over her own language and speaking patterns.

Kiyya smiles politely, offering some praise. "...Kala...ras."

At least you tried...

Kirari bristles a little, obviously unused to being the slow learner of the group. "Before you make fun of me, remember: I am the one who heals you," she warns.

--------------------

>Share a friendly laugh at Kirari's expense
>Reassure her
>Tease
>Flirt
>Write-in

>>155412
>Share a friendly laugh at Kirari's expense

>>155412
Let's make a bet, losser becomes winners slave for 48 hours

>>155412

>friendly laugh

Sucks to be you, nerd

>>155427
This

>>155412
>friendly laugh and then reassure

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>>155427
>>155435
>>155444

"What good is that when I need to know where the latrine is?" Dorje asks, breaking into a laugh you can't help but share. Even Kiyya, who doesn't follow the exact words of the exchange, perfectly understands the context and has to suppress a giggle at Kirari's expense.

Kirari just rolls her eyes, making a show of being offended. "I'm going to stretch a bit. Hold this for me..." she says, standing and dropping her sling's stone ammunition squarely in Dorje's lap. He stops laughing and more laugh-coughs a bit.

"A fire in her, that one," Dorje remarks, watching her go.

"I know, I've seen her conjure it."

The day wanes and you all rest, recovering your strength for the march ahead. Your food has run out, but at least you are not afflicted with thirst.

"Tel-Amarset." Kiyya says to you as she leads Suna out of the shelter.

--------------------

>Chat with Royt on the march
>Chat with Kirari on the march
>Chat with Dorje on the march
>Chat with Kiyya on the march
>Write-in

(last major travelling post, I promise. Trying to be true to the geography on the map)

>>155583
>Chat with Kirari on the march

>>155583

Chat with Royt in Kiyya's language

>>155583
>Chat with Kirari on the march

>>155583
>>Chat with Kiyya on the march
Well now that we understand her. It will be good to know what we are getting into.

>>155583
>Chat with Royt on the march

>>155583
>>Chat with Kiyya on the march

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>>155589
>>155603

You fall into step beside Kirari as the moon rises in the sun's place, a chill supplanting the blanket of heat. She has taken the friendly ribbing you and Dorje gave her in good stride, and smiles as you join her.

"I have been thinking, Keje - plenty of time for that as we travel. Our memories, our history...why are we so driven to find them?"

You aren't sure at first how to answer. "We need to know what put us in the ground and why. We need to know what this creature in our dreams is. We need to know who our enemies are," you list a few reasons off the top of your head.

"Do we?"

You look at her, puzzled.

"What if it's best we forget about what happened before? What if our history, the people we were - what if we were better off not knowing them?"

"We have ancestors, kindred, a story to pass on, Kirari. Those things matter."

"I know they do, but what about those who are consumed by vengeance? Or those who have done terrible things...wouldn't their past, their memories, be a burden to them? What if we had done things we would rather not know, and are undoing our only chance to start a life that belongs only to us, and not to our past?"

You know better than to question her resolve - every instinct you have informs you that you can trust her and rely upon her. Still, she has raised questions that never even occurred to you until now.

"If there was a design intended for us, that placed us here, I think we are driven to find it out. Most of our tribe is still in that tomb - perhaps devouring each other. Someone must have sacrificed a great deal to preserve us this long, and I want to know why that was so important." Kirari contemplates this as the two of you traverse a particularly steep sand mountain.

You look ahead and see that Kiyya has stopped, dismounting her horse and looking troubled.

"Is something wrong?" Kirari asks.

"I don't know." You run up to her side, and find her examining another formation of low rocks, digging at the sand on her hands and knees. "Nei nei nei!" she curses frantically under her breath.

"Kiyya? Is there a problem?"

She looks up to you, fear plainly visible on her face. "Camp...gone. No camp!" she stammers. You look at the rocks she has led you to, and understand completely.

The storms. The storms had shifted so much sand that it had buried the entrance to the Imashet refuge, perhaps dozens of feet below where you now stand. No water.

No, worse than that. No shelter. There was no where to hide if another storm came for you now - nothing to protect you from the razor sharp sand.

If a storm did appear...you would either be flayed alive, or buried alive.

"Go! Go now, hurry!" Kiyya says, mounting her horse again.

--------------------

>Turn back, risk travel through the day to return to the last refuge
>Go forward, risk travel by day to get to the next refuge
>Don't risk travel by day, the heat is just as dangerous
>Write-in

>>155770

>travel back to the known shelter

Assumign that Kiyya thinks this is a good plan

>>155770
>Go forward, risk travel by day to get to the next refuge
going back will just slow us down

>>155770
>Don't risk travel by day, the heat is just as dangerous

Going back won't help us and the heat will sap our strength

>Ask Kiyya what to do.
She knows best in these situations.

>>155770
>Go forward, risk travel by day to get to the next refuge

So long as she knows where to find it

>>155865

I believe that her advice is to "Go now, hurry."

>>155962
It could be, yes. In any way, following her lead woud be probably by far the wisest.

>>155988
And yes, that last sentence from QM kinda eluded my eyes until now so I apologize for my previous retarded post.

>>155795
>>155816
>>155865
>>155962

writing this, following Kiyya

>>155994

Nah not a problem, I'm just a snarky asshole

>>156016
Well it was still stupid of me all the same :D. Well sadly i have to go to sleep now. Can't wait to see how this will turn out when i wake up in the morning!

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>>155997

You march through the day, Kiyya more afraid of a storm coming for you than of the heat claiming you first. She is visibly terrified, knowing a dagger is hanging over her that could drop at any time. The others sense her fear, letting it stifle them into silence. By noon you feel the heat crushing down, but your muscles are too stubborn to give in. Kirari and Dorje, like you, endure it. Royt amazingly keeps up, as well. The seriousness of the situation is not lost on him.

You stop, and look up. Before you is an enormous wave of sand, like the wall of a great castle, sloping almost 45 degrees into the sky. It extends in both directions, so far as to be impossible to tell how long the obstruction is. No choice, then – you climb over. The sand is not so loose that you sink, but still loose enough that every step is a struggle. You can almost use your hands to help you as you climb higher, following the plume of dust created by Suna as he leaps and gallops uphill with Kiyya astride him. The others follow behind you in a line – Dorje, then Kirari, and then Royt, traveling last when the path is cleared most.

Finally, after an age, you reach the summit. The opposite side is not as steep as the one you climbed, the wind apparently having come from this direction when it created the mountain. You can see the sand ocean extending for miles in every direction, nothing but an impossibly huge deathtrap for any life too arrogant to enter it.
You feel it before you see it. A subtle tremor in the earth, a lengthening of shadows on the ground. You look to the southeast, and see the great, angry wall of roiling dust towering into the sky, tearing the earth apart beneath it. For a moment you feel like you are back in your nightmare, like you are sinking into an ocean of writhing serpents. For that instant, reality and madness smear together.

“Brother!” Dorje calls to you, running to your side and placing a hand on your shoulder. “It is coming for us.”

1/2

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>>156042

Your kindred. Their voices tether you back into the world, restoring your senses. Kiyya is frantically waving to you, naked fear in her expression.

“Run!” you yell, following Kiyya’s lead as she tears ahead down the slope. The Imashet girl is on horseback, but the sand is deep, and it slows his gallop as if he were fording a deep river. The four of you take the path he carves in his wake, keeping pace as the stallion bears the brunt of the labor.

Were you close to shelter? You didn’t see anything obvious – no landmarks that might suggest cover. You look over to Kiyya, and see her scanning the terrain frantically, as well. You are not confident she knows of a refuge close enough to save you. Regardless, she chooses a direction and pursues it as fast as she can.
The winds around you start to growl louder, and lighter sand begins to swirl from the tops of the peaks around you. Looking over your shoulder, you see much of the sky turning darker, a great plume of dark earth churning like a vortex. As it catches up to you, you are struck by the sheer size of it, the incomprehensible scale of the tempest compared to you as you flounder away from it like running in place during a nightmare.

The storm’s tall shadow overtakes you, the terminus racing far faster than you across the ground. Rivers of sand, laced with the glasslike shards, begin to rise around you, lifted up by the growing draft. You see Kiyya yelling, but you can barely hear her over the gale winds and drumming of thunder. The world grows dark as a starless night as tiny knives begin to sting the backs of your legs. You can barely see 100 feet in front of yourself now as you shield your eyes from the whirling dust.

Where was Kiyya! You hadn’t taken you brother and sister so far just to die here now! You curse yourself, curse your foolishness for leading them to their deaths. Wait – there, the horse! No, not the horse...

The four-legged shadow sits on a swirling dune ahead of you, its glowing eyes a beacon in the deepening pitch. And there, to the other side, Kiyya on her stallion, searching frantically for something.

--------------------

>Follow Kiyya, lead the others to her
>Follow the Laughing Dog, lead the others to it
>Write-in

Rolled 42 (1d100)

>>156045
>>Follow the Laughing Dog, lead the others to it
Fuck it, I trusting the vision.

>>156045
>Follow the Laughing Dog, lead the others to it
i still don't think that this dog is good, but it has plans for us so i doubt he'd lead us to our death

>>156102
>>156123

This fucking Dog. I hate that we need it. Follow it instead.

>>156102
>>156123
>>156128

writing

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>>156133

You have no choice. As in the crypt, you place your trust in the vision.

“To me!” you yell with the greatest roar your parched throat can muster. “Here!”

Your voice, honed by forgotten battlefields, cuts through the gale just long enough to get the others’ attention. Needle-like sand starts to bite into your flesh as you count their silhouettes start to gather towards you, drawn by your battlecry. Dorje is first, then Kirari, and Royt behind them, head buried in his hands. Kiyya, more distant, abandons her own search and steers Suna towards you as well. You hope their trust in you won’t be the mistake that kills them.

Turning from them, you look for the apparition again, finding the mound on which it sat, but seeing no sign of the creature. You trudge forward towards it, a thousand tiny cuts in your exposed flesh covering your body with the sensation of being slowly burned alive.

Hand outstretched and groping blindly, you take step after painful step...then plummet ten feet down a steep decline, rolling in whipping sand. You climb to your knees and see in front of you, concealed by the sand drift you just fell over, a stone doorway, leading down a flight of crooked stone steps into blackness. Shelter.

Clambering back up to the top of the dune, you wave your arms, enduring the intense pain to signal to the others. Dorje appears from the mists first, then Kirari, holding his outstretched arm as they form a chain together. They stumble into the stone doorway, collapsing down into the tunnel. Royt falls into your arms, unable to see where to go. You shepherd him inside, where Dorje takes him deeper to safety.

Kiyya...

She has dismounted and is leading Suna towards you by the reins, one agonizing step at a time. You duck into the doorway and hold out your hand for her, counting the seconds that fall away as blood starts to run down your arm. You feel her hand in yours, and you pull her inside after you, coughing and gagging. Her other hand is still on the reins of her stallion, which she pulls as you did her, leading him into the shelter last.

The horse’s head lowers and enters the dark passageway, then its front legs...and then it stops. Kiyya pulls on his reins as hard as she can, trying to drag him to safety. The door is too narrow for him.

The winds outside are too loud now to hear her cry as she struggles powerlessly to save him.

Finally, with a pained moan, the stallion collapses, his legs unable to support him any more under the intense pain.

“Nei! Suna! Suna!” Kiyya pleads, still tugging at his helplessly. She weeps, taking his head in her hands, as the winds outside flay the animal alive, piece by piece. Drawing her breath, the girl picks up a stone from beside her, raising it above her head, and crashes it into her mount’s head, ending his misery.

[session end]

XP: +6, total of 10 to spend

>>156274

Thanks to all of you who played. I will be moving across state this weekend to start work, but I should be able to do some shorter session later in the week once I get settled.

feedback welcome
twitter for announcements
ask.fm for questions
archive for session logs

>>156287
Thanks for running, as always. Great stuff.

>>156287

Excellent work, thanks for running

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>>156274
F