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You spend a lot of your free time training with Kyra. You haven't talked much since the siege and you've been so busy dealing with the new arrivals, your relationship issues and other assorted tasks that you find yourself missing Kyra's barely noticeable presence.

Oddly, despite her being the best at playing the disappearing act, finding her is never all that hard. In The Sword and Shield, The Drunken Lion or sometimes you just see her on the street. When you want to find her she seems to find you. You tell her you want to spend some time honing your more subtle skills. But more than that you want to coordinate and practice working alongside her.

She agrees and together the two of you spend some time outside the walls of Seaside and inside the halls of The Fighter's Guild honing your knife work and your skill at hitting the vital areas of an enemy. Gale even volunteers to be your practice opponent for perfecting your teamwork. Gale is actually very fucking good at no-selling many of your more inferior tactics, repaying any mistake with a pommel to the face or a gauntlet to the gut.

The two of you really have to work together to get past his defenses all while dodging the blunted greatsword he swings at you in wide arcs. It takes focus, concentration and a sense of the other's location and plan of attack to make any progress at all. Thankfully the residual magical effects of the coat you wear seem to make the process easier, allowing Kyra to understand and follow your intentions quickly.

Soon the two of you are working like a well-oiled machine, utilizing flanking tactics and feinting maneuvers, piggybacking off the other in absolute silence. You two are so in-sync that at one point you fear you've formed another one of those mental bonds. Thankfully that's not the case. By the end of it all, you've assassinated Gale a dozen times over.

The training you do outside the walls places Kyra much more in the role of educator. She throws explosive concoctions at you and expects you to not get hurt. Where she acquired such an abundant supply of these things, you have no idea, but thankfully the lessons work rapidly.

At first, even when you were able to gain some distance from the explosion's epicenter, you still ended up slightly burned and injured. However, with a few tips from her about how to utilize terrain, wind currents, your own agility and how to roll through fiery bursts in a way to minimize your skin's actual exposure to danger you manage to perfect avoiding a majority of the damages caused by being caught in the vicinity of an explosive burst.

After passing your “final” – Kyra tossing five of the explosives at you at once – the two of you sit together eating stew as the sun slowly sets.

“Good progress,” she says simply as the two of you dish out your respective portions.

“Thanks. For helping me,” you tell her.

She nods.

>Kyra, what's been going on with you?
>You're one of the funniest people I know.
>What do you think about my powers?
>Where did you get those explosives?
>What do you think about . . . ? (person/place/object)
>Kyra, can I get your advice on something? (what)
>Something else? (write-in)

>>168324
>>Kyra, what's been going on with you?
>What do you think about my powers?
>Where did you get those explosives?

>>168324
>>What do you think about . . . ? (person/place/object) Irontide and co?
>>Kyra, can I get your advice on something? (what) If you needed to gather information on someone who's likely a better intel gatherer than you, how would you do so and in a way that reveals the least about you?

Also watched Civil War this weekend. Fun stuff. Heart wrenching, but still fun.

Writing!

“So Kyra, we haven't talked in a while,” you ask as you ladle stew down your throat. “What's been going on with you?”

“Watching people. Monitoring things. Practicing.” Curt as ever.

“Where'd you get the explosives?”

“Stole them.”

“From who?”

“Goblin.”

You furrow your brow. “This goblin wouldn't happen to be the alchemist working with Irontide, would it? Preta something?”

“Predipus,” she corrects you.

“I don't think stealing from them is a good idea.”

“Too late. Wasn't caught.”

“Well, what's your opinion on Irontide and his crew?” You assume it's rather low, considering the disrespect and the stealing.

Kyra actually spends some time thinking about that as the two of you eat. A few minutes pass and just as you think she might not plan to answer, she speaks.

“Some good. Some bad. All of them dangerous. Good to get practice in like this.”

“Like this?”

“One fights like Gale. One throws explosives.” She shrugs. Huh. You chuckle a bit. Kyra's not stupid, that's for sure.

You eat in silence for a bit longer. You finish and put down your bowl, before deciding to go back for seconds. As you dole out your second helping you ask Kyra for some advice.

“So, Kyra. If you needed to gather information on someone who's likely better at it than you, how would you do so in a way that reveals the least about you?”

“Who?” she asks, her face blank.

“Well . . ., Dart.”

“What do you want to know?” You narrow your eyes a bit and Kyra raises her eyebrows in response. “Watching people,” she tells you again.

>What do you want to know about Dart?

>>168644
>>What do you want to know about Dart?
what makes her tick? what are her fears and goals, exactly?

On top of that, what are the motivations and fears of her crew.

Also, does Kyra think we should be wary of this group? Given that they've disappeared for, what, a year? Can they be trusted?

Actually, maybe we should talk to Blackburn about them after this, if we haven't' talked about it already.

Writing!

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“What makes her tick? What exactly are her fears and goals?”

Kyra sighs. “Don't know. Hard to tell. Wild Card. Rest are pretty simple, but not Dart. Seems to thrive on chaos. Shit disturber. Loyal to Irontide though, far as I can tell. Does what he says.”

“What about the rest of them? Think we should be wary?”

“Yes. Ego-driven. Irontide sees us as competition. Wants to be Big Dwarf on campus. The rest – various interests. Nothing grand.”

“Do you think we should trust them? They've been gone for a whole year.”

“Blackburn doesn't. Told me to keep a close eye on them. Very convenient timing. Siege left Seaside understaffed for expeditions. Need everyone we can get. Blackburn can't afford not to use them. Goblin's already filled in Calloway's niche.”

“What?” you ask, trying your best to keep that rising hint of anger down. Still, you think Kyra picked up on it.

“Healing people. For free, via touch. Out of his workshop. Some of Dolah's people had words with him. Allegedly said some nasty things about . . .” Kyra trails off, looking truly hesitant to go on.

“About Calloway?” you ask.

“Calloway, The Great Will, Dolah, religion. Also, . . .” Kyra takes a breath and readjusts herself before telling you this next part. “Dart went to Rowe a few days ago. The Sword and Shield, I was watching. Talked to her. Said some things about . . . you. You and Gabby.”

“What'd she say?” you ask, panic and dread quickly rising and falling in your stomach.

Kyra shrugs. “Nothing concrete. Implications. Barely hidden under small talk. Rowe had none of it. Brushed it off. Probably thought it was nonsense. Still . . .”

She takes a moment to look at you before continuing once more. Her face looks apologetic and questioning all at the same time. “It's not nonsense, is it?”

>No, it's not
>Yes it is (lying)
>Yes it is

AND

>What are you going to do next, Alan? (write-in)

>>168939

>>No, it's not
We're not dating behind Rowe's back and I won't do something that low. But we've... come to an understanding. We feel an attraction to one another, but we're not going to act on it. I need to come clean to Rowe about it, though. Crap, I don't know if she's going to pissed off and by how much.

Talk to Blackburn about Irontide's group and see what he knows about what they were doing in the year they were missing. Maybe we could investigate/trace their steps.


Though, Trick, would I be wrong in saying that Gabby has a certain attraction to Rowe? Or does she seem to like her in a just friends capacity?

>>169013
>I need to come clean to Rowe about it, though
may want to rephrase as
"I still need to tell Rowe about it, though."

Writing!

>Though, Trick, would I be wrong in saying that Gabby has a certain attraction to Rowe? Or does she seem to like her in a just friends capacity?

Well nothing has really suggested any romantic feelings between the two that Alan has seen.

I mean I could bring in a /u/ specialist with the yuri goggles set to maximum to look for anything like that, but as Alan is a regular person I'd say they seem to just be friends.

>>169073
it may just be my wishful thinking, then

“No, it's not. I'm not doing anything behind Rowe's back. I'm not cheating.” You explain yourself.

“But . . .” Kyra draws the word out, looking at you inquisitively. You frown.

“But there is an attraction there. We've talked about it and come to an understanding. I should probably still tell Rowe about it, though. You think she'll be pissed?”

“No,” Kyra tells you flatly. “Hurt though.”

“Even if I haven't done anything?”

“Especially since you haven't done anything. You cheat, she hates you. You don't, she has no outlet. It's all on her. She feels inferior.”

“It's not like I'm not attracted to her. There's a reason I'm with her.”

“She's not enough?”

“Of course she's enough. It's just . . .”

“You want more.”

Silence descends.

“Know the feeling. Once had two jobs coming up at the same time. Same night. Nobleman's sword needing swiping on one side of town. Lockbox filled with some important document coming by boat on the other. Both jobs paid well. Both were very high profile – required the best of the best. No fuckups allowed. Had to have the most skilled personnel to imagine doing one. But I wanted both."

She leans forward and points at you with a gloved finger. "Simple rules Alan, comes to thievery. One of them: you lay low after you pull a big score. Always. Pulling two in the same night? On opposite ends of a city? Most in the know would laugh you out of the room."

"But I wanted both. Thought I was the best. Had a fantastic team. Longtime associates. Talked them into it. They trusted me."

"I wanted both. Planned two heists, contingency plans, resources and favors called in all over the area. Night in question came and we went after both.”

“Let me guess,” you interrupt, predicting the end to the story and its accompanying moral. “You ended up with neither.” It's probably how she got caught and dragged here.

Kyra smiles at you. That's . . . very new. “No. Got both.”

“Oh. And you didn't get caught?”

“Nope. Rest of the team did.”

“Oh.”

“Executed a week later.”

“Oh . . .”

The fire keeping your stew warm sputters and crackles. Kyra goes and throws another stick in, moving some kindling around to keep it going. She goes and serves herself a second portion.

“So it wasn't worth it then?”

Kyra frowns. “Course it was. I wanted both.”

“But your friends –”

“Associates,” she corrects. “Don't have friends. Not in this business.”

“So . . . was there supposed to be a lesson or a piece of wisdom in there?” you ask, feeling uneasy. She shakes her head.

“Just talking.” She snuggles under a blanket as the night air starts to chill your campsite, feeding herself some stew.

>Response? (write-in)

Regardless, the Blackburn thing will be coming after this.

>>169481
"Well, it's still something to think about. Thanks for talking to me, Kyra. We should probably hang out more often."

>>169481
"So, I should go after what I want, just make sure to plan and prepare so that I come out ahead, is that it? Even with our ability to fully transmit thoughts to each other, this isn't going to be easy or pretty.
"No advice on how to break this to Rowe, then?"

Writing!

"So, I should go after what I want, just make sure to plan and prepare so that I come out ahead, is that it?” you ask her, interested in what she's trying to tell you.

“Just talking, Alan,” she repeats with emphasis. “Do whatever you want to do.”

You sigh out. Well, it's something to think about, I guess. Thanks for the chat, Kyra. We should probably hang out more often." You get up and collect your things. You turn around to walk back to where Tornado is grazing.

“Course . . . S'what I'd do,” she seems to mutter into her bowl. You know Kyra. If she didn't want you to hear what she had just said, you wouldn't have.

You turn around and walk back to her.

“Look, do you have any actual advice on how to break this to Rowe?”

Kyra rolls her eyes. She then taps her bowl with her spoon, thinking for a second. She looks back up at you. “Lie. Succubus gave you impure thoughts. Prayed it away tonight. Swear to limit yourself. Promise to be her one and only. Marry her tomorrow. Done, solved.”

Kyra goes back to her stew. You tap your foot some. “Even with the ability to transmit thoughts to her, there is no way going after what I think I want is going to be easy or pretty.”

“Nothing worth stealing is easy or pretty to steal. Reason you gotta fucking steal it.”

“This isn't stealing, Kyra. This is . . . ”

“Pussyfooting,” Kyra interrupts as you try to think of a word. “Dump Rowe. Forget Gabby. Go for both. Become a priest and go celibate. Don't pussyfoot."

"Another rule about thievery: Never hesitate."

>Dump Rowe
>Forget Gabby
>Go for both
>Become a priest and go celibate
>Keep pussyfooting
>Something else? (write-in)

>>169820
>Go for both

>>169820
>Something else? (write-in)
set aside both for the time being, give them space, concentrate on improving yourself

Gabby said she won't fuck coworkers.
Would going for both really work?
And wouldn't it play into Rowe's sense of inferiority?

>>169820
>Keep pussyfooting

>>169859
actually, sure, this.

Writing!

Because I'm going to count this >>169859 and >>169886 as relatively the same thing, if that's alright with you folks.

>>169820
>Go for both

Actually, could I get a roll of 1d100 + 15, best of 3.

Rolled 13 + 15 (1d100 + 15)

>>169975

Rolled 15 + 15 (1d100 + 15)

>>169975
Oh damn, we're in trouble aren't we.

Rolled 63 + 15 (1d100 + 15)

>>169975
:^)

>>170035
Depends what you mean by trouble?

>>170035
You're fucked.

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“I'm not doing this here,” you tell Kyra. She looks at you, a mask of disappointment plain on her face. “Not in the middle of nowhere. I'm just going to set aside both for the time being. Give them and myself space. And concentrate on improving myself.”

She meows at you.

You give her a dirty look.

She meows again.

You look away, making a tsk sound at her childish antics.

She meows louder as you walk to Tornado.

You whistle sharply and Pascala bounds towards you from out of the on-coming dark, a caught rabbit in her teeth, fresh blood still dripping off of it.

She drops it in front of you, whining. That's odd. You reach down and pick the fresh kill up. Seems to have been ripped into and half-eaten already. Pascala didn't kill this thing. Teeth marks are different. Looks like it was punctured by an arrow as well.

The loud inhuman shriek that bursts from the treeline startles you. You barely hear the sound of an arrow in flight. You're just quick enough to dive to the right, the arrow sticking into your shoulder as opposed to your heart.

You're 400 to 500 feet from the treeline. That was a long fucking shot. Arrow worked its way through the mythral too. Not too deep of a wound. Shallow enough to pull out, which you do. You look at the thing. You don't know if you smell the poison on it or Pascala does, but either way you're pretty sure that's pretty fucking bad. Arrow looks familiar. You feel your muscles in your shoulder start to clench up.

You look behind yourself. Kyra's gone. That's probably a good thing. You hear three more inhuman shrieks, loud and strong, overlapping one another. You spot a few distant figures emerging from the treeline, maybe nine in all. Not too large. They're sprinting towards you.

>Get on Tornado, retreat to town
>Get on Tornado, ride towards the treeline
>Attempt to fire back
>Something else? (write-in)

Regardless, roll me 1d100 + 26, best of 3. To fight off the poison!

Rolled 10 + 26 (1d100 + 26)

>>170168
>Get on Tornado, ride towards the treeline
We're a cavalier, let's use that training here.

And Pascala couldn't keep up with Tornado if we retreated at full speed, and I don't trust those figures to not shoot at her.

Rolled 8 + 26 (1d100 + 26)

>>170168

>>170168
>>Get on Tornado, retreat to town

Rolled 34 + 26 (1d100 + 26)

>>170168
:^)

Nobody wants to vote?

We're at a tie right now.

>>170244
>>170190
I'll switch to this to get things moving.

Writing!

Roll me 2d100, best of 3

First has a bonus of 38

Second has a bonus of 22

>>170270
Attack and defense respectively.

Rolled 24, 63 = 87 (2d100)

>>170270

Rolled 24, 45 = 69 (2d100)

>>170270

Rolled 11, 87 = 98 (2d100)

>>170270
:^))))

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You get up as you feel the poison begin its work. It's a paralytic. You slowly feel the muscles clamp down and then all sensations in that shoulder start to numb. You rush to Tornado, planning to charge forward. You're not confident a retreat at this point would work. You use your still viable right hand to draw yourself up on top of your steed.

You grab the reins and kick Tornado into gear, barreling towards your attackers. You hear two more screeches before the next arrow flies at you. You duck your head as you ride, dodging the attack. Whoever is shooting at you is timing his attempts with the screams. It's a smart tactic, hoping the scream puts you off-guard, but it won't work anymore.

All thoughts of utilizing a ranged weapon go out the window when you realize your left arm will not respond no matter how much you want to move it. Instead you draw your lance from where it rests holstered on your mount.

It is too dark to make out who the charging, screaming assailants are. You want to see them for what they are before you go for the kill.

As you guide Tornado away from one more arrow loosed from within the treeline, now perhaps only 200 feet away, you speak the words and watch as burst of multi-colored light fires from the tip of your lance, into the crowd of monsters. As the spell goes off you see the truth of what you're facing.

They're orcs. Or at least they used to be. They have heavy scales. Unlike Eve though they are grey and splotchy, like a plague spreading across their skin. Their eyes are missing, patches of flesh covering where they should be. Shrunken, deformed limbs – some with claws, others with what look like octopus suckers – hang loosely at the sides of some.

One of the creatures, despite lacking eyesight, stops its charge, drops its club and begins convulsing as your Flare spell goes off.

Within fractions of a second you know these aren't warriors. These are victims – of what, you don't know. But what you're about to do to them is a mercy. You lance the closest one through the heart, which unfortunately doesn't kill the thing.

As you drag it with you it scrabbles at you with its one good arm before you manage to pull your lance loose, letting it roll across the ground, hearing the snap of a broken neck as it tumbles away.

You turn your horse back round to face the remaining seven still brandishing clubs. You lean calmly to the right to avoid the next arrow. Thankfully it strikes one of the orcs in the leg. The poison immediately kicking in and bringing one more of these poor victims to its knees and removing one more threat from this fight.

Six left. But you're starting to feel a growing numbness in your right arm. The paralytic is spreading. You don't have much time before you'll have to start kicking people to death. Time to set your priorities.

>Rush the treeline, attack the archer
>Incapacitate the remaining orcs
>Full scale retreat, see how far you can make it
>Something else? (write-in)

>>170493
that orc is messed up.
>Full scale retreat, see how far you can make it

>>170493
>Rush the treeline, attack the archer
Can Pascala and Muffin help us pinpoint the archer?

We might be lucky enough that they have an antidote for the poison, in case they accidentally scratch themselves with one of their own arrows.

>>170493
>Rush the treeline, attack the archer

Writing!

Roll me 3d100, best of 3.

First is +15, for spotting the archer.

second is + 38, for attack.

Third is +27, for defense.

Rolled 12, 71, 25 = 108 (3d100)

>>170623

Rolled 74, 72, 76 = 222 (3d100)

>>170623
Things aren't going smoothly.

Rolled 57, 34, 37 = 128 (3d100)

>>170623
rolling for third position, unless someone else fills it.

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You turn Tornado around and spur him towards the trees. The orcs pursue you, screaming and bellowing, grunting and growling. But you have a good enough head start and a horse to outpace them immensely.

Woah. You weave and guide and avoid a much more rapid series of projectiles coming at you from the forest. Looks like the archer is stepping his game up. No longer trying to take you out with poisons, he's just hoping to turn you into a pincushion.

Pascala pads along beside you, before breaking off into the tree line. She has the archer's scent. As you guide Tornado, urging him to follow behind you feel your right arm's muscle begin to clench up.

Shit, you have to finish this fast. You look up into the treeline, and hear the sound of the upper branches shaking. He's retreating, but Pascala manages to keep up with him. You open up your familiar satchel and expertly toss Muffin up into the trees as Tornado bursts into the forest. Muffin begins to glide after your target. With Muffin above and Pascala below it is easy to follow his movements and keep on him with Tornado, weaving your brave mount through the intermittent oaks and maples.

File: Archer.png (106 KB, 250x355)

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You spot his tattered green cloak and dirty straw hair bobbing behind him as he leaps from tree to tree. You unleash another flare spell up at him, lighting his form up to get a better look. He suddenly stops mid-sprint through the treetops and reaches for a flask at his belt, raising it to his lips. You spot his ears as his hair falls back. Elven for sure. Holy shit, he's an elf. This is a fucking Island elf and he is trying to kill you! Unfortunately the drought he downs makes him disappear.

“Oh no you don't,” you shout as you drop your lance back into its holster. Casting Glitterdust is hard to do with one hand but you manage it haphazardly.

A stream of golden particles shoots from your fingertips into roughly the same general location that you saw the elf make his disappearing act.

You hear him shout as the dust envelops a humanoid-shaped figure in a mid-air leap. He twists and misses the next branch he was leaping for, but manages to grab it with one hand despite his failure. With his other hand he tries desperately to wipe the gold, sparkling substance from his eyes as he hangs suspended.

You pull a javelin from your quiver and chuck it at him, unfortunately with very little power behind it as the strength in your arm quickly fades. It flips end over end and the butt of the javelin hits him center of mass, which thankfully does cause him to let go, falling into a slump before you.

As you trot up to the figure on horseback, the prone elf suddenly shoots out a sparkling dusty arm releasing coarse grey powder into the air. As it hits the forest floor in front of him it lights up in an alchemical flash of light.

You try to raise your arms to cover your eyes but neither respond to your mental commands. You are momentarily blinded and by the time you can see again, the glittery golden figure is some few feet away running from you. Pascala thankfully manages to stay on his heels while you spur Tornado forward using only your legs, both of which are also starting to feel numb.

Pascala outpaces the elf, leaping and biting into his arm, causing him to stop dead in his tracks. He screams and punches her in the muzzle.

File: Section of the Forest.jpg (99 KB, 725x483)

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As you get close you realize you can't really dismount from your horse to subdue him in your current paralyzed state and you need to get in their fast unless you want to let Pascala get hurt any further.

One last trick up your sleeve. You utter the incantation you recently picked up from your recent studies in transmutation Wizardry.

You imagine yourself a mere 6 feet away, right above the man's head. Suddenly there you are, practically paralyzed and still unused to the way teleporting makes your head spin, but with still enough sense and strength to slam your knee into the back of his head as gravity suddenly takes control once more.

You hit the ground in a heap, the glitter-dusted elf suddenly visible, prone, unconscious and no longer covered in glitterdust beside you.

You lie next to him and try as you might your legs aren't working. You're immobile for the moment. But you got him.

Pascala begins growling at the knocked out elf.

>Rip his throat out, girl
>Search him for an antidote, Muffin
>Good work Tornado!
>Just lie here for a bit
>Something else? (write-in)

>>170923
>Search him for an antidote, Muffin
>Good girl, Pascala
>Good work, Tornado!

>>170923
>>Search him for an antidote, Muffin
>>Good work Tornado and Pascala!

Writing!

“Muffin, search him for an antidote.” Muffin assures you he's on the case as he goes for the elf's leather belt. He loosens three different-looking bottles from the elf as Pascala picks them up with her mouth to lay gently on your chest.

Muffin climbs atop you to use his hands to unscrew the lids. He uses leverage to pour the first one into your mouth.

You feel your sole arrow wound knit itself back up. Seemed and felt like regular healing, didn't cure the paralysis.

You drink the second one. You get a brief moment of feeling back in your muscles as they expand. So that was a potion of bull's strength. Well that just got wasted.

You drink the third potion. It has a minty taste to it. You smack your lips. Huh, doesn't seem to be doing – there we go! Woo, you start wiggling your toes. You'll get control of your body any moment now.

Any moment.

Any moment.

Ooh, fingers are working again. Swiveling your ankles too. Only took a full sixty seconds of lying on the ground totally helpless while there could be weirdly deformed orcs looking to kill you.

You hear a twig snap. Your eyes drift upward and you end up looking into the eyes of a hooded figure you've grown to know and appreciate.

“The orcs?” you ask her.

“Took care of 'em,” Kyra responds.

“Would you mind propping me up?”

She quickly ties up the unconscious elf before dragging you by the armpits and leaning you against a tree in a sitting position.

“Good work, Tornado!” He whinnies.

“Good girl, Pascala!” She barks.

“Good job, Muffin!” He chitters.

“Thanks for the assist, Kyra.”

She meows.

>End of Thread
I will most likely run this next time on Saturday. https://twitter.com/TrickQM

>>171038
Gotta get some apples for Tornado.
Steak for Pascala.
Walnuts for Muffin.

>>171038
yes, Kyra, we'll get you a kitty treat, too.

See you next week.

File: tegaki.png (8 KB, 400x400)

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Really shitty map I decided to draw in post in the thread four days later. It is not to scale at all but hopefully it helps some.

Yellow -- Seaside area/Seaside's influence

Light Green -- Swamp

Dark Green -- Forest

Pink -- The Temple

Red -- The volcano you heard about

Blue -- The hills and caves.

Purple -- the Mountains