>>196455
Should get him back to Blackburn, and the bodies of the mutated orcs to Gilda.

File: Alchemist's Fire.png (23 KB, 133x200)

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You squeeze your hand shut as the feeling comes back to it. Your legs are starting to feel all tingly too. That's nice. Soon you'll be able to stand up and actually do something. Until then you'll have to settle with watching Kyra loot the elf.

She reaches up from a searched pocket and shakes a baggy at you, filled with some green powder. You have an educated guess what that is.

“Keeping it,” she tells you over her shoulder, slipping it into a pouch at her hip.

Her hands roam the elf's armored form for more treasures. Minutes pass and by the time you're standing on both feet, leaning against the tree for support as your knees wobble, Kyra has laid out four identical flasks and the elf's bow.

“Bow's magic,” she mentions. A quick detect magic certainly confirms it. It's a composite longbow too, quite like the one you use. Has an aura of divination to it. Probably why the elf managed to accurately use it from such a long distance. You gesture for Kyra to bring it to you and you play with it a bit, stretching back the string of the weapon. It's about as strong as the one you currently use.

You nod back towards the flasks and Kyra gingerly picks one up and brings it to your eye level for you to examine. It contains a roiling red liquid and is only filled halfway. “Alchemist's fire. Nasty stuff.”

You gulp once. Good thing Muffin didn't pour one of those down your throat.

“I'm not an idiot, Alan. I can tell when things are meant to be drunk and when they aren't,” he chitters at you from the ground.

“I know Muffin, I've never doubted . . .” you stop mid-chitter and slowly look up to Kyra as some disturbing elements of this situation dawn on you.

The look on her face is less surprised and more 'this shit again', but you still find yourself having to be certain about what just transpired.

“Was I –”

“Yes.”

“Don't worry, she can't understand me,” Muffin assures you.

“You can talk!” you yell at him.

“We can talk. To each other.”

“Can I speak squirrel now?”

“Eh, it doesn't work like that.”

“Stop.” Kyra demands.

“Tornado, can you talk?” you ask your horse. As he whinnies his response, Kyra grabs you by the shoulders.

“No he can't. Alan. Prisoner.”

Right, the elf. Kyra tied him up nice and tight. As far as first contact goes, this makes a pretty bad first impression. He doesn't really fit the image you had for Island elves. Dryads, tree-walkers, elusive forest spirits – something more along those lines. Something worthy of being worshiped by Zar'kov's tribe.

This guy looks dirty, like he hasn't showered in a while. His clothes are ratty too.

And what's with the weird orc creatures? He was using them like they were hunting dogs or something. There are a lot of questions and thoughts on your mind.

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

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>Take the bow for yourself
>Take the bow as a present for Rowe

AND

>Take the alchemist's fire
>Let Kyra take the alchemist's fire

AND

>Wake him up, interrogate the elf here
>Put him on your horse and take him to Seaside
>Kill him

AND

>Something else? (write-in)

>>196479
>>Take the bow as a present for Rowe
But maybe run it by Quissonce to see if it's cursed or tagged with something before giving it to Rowe.
>Let Kyra take the alchemist's fire
>Put him on your horse and take him to Seaside

>>196479
>Consider giving the bow back to the elf if this turns out to be a misunderstanding, otherwise give it to Rowe as a present

>Let Kyra take the alchemist's fire

>Put him on your horse and take him to Seaside

>See if we can talk with Pascala

Rolled 91 + 15 (1d100 + 15)

Writing!

And roll me 1d100 + 15, best of 3.

Rolled 45 + 15 (1d100 + 15)

>>196528

Rolled 41 + 15 (1d100 + 15)

>>196528

Rolled 62 + 15 (1d100 + 15)

>>196528
rolling for third.

File: Mutant Orc.png (254 KB, 1000x1000)

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“Let's drag him back to Seaside first, before we try to figure out what his issue is. And make sure to gag him, too.”

Kyra nods and goes to work securing a gag for your elven captive. “Flasks?” she asks.

“Yours,” you tell her. You heft the bow up onto your shoulder. This might make a nice gift for Rowe, allowing for longer engagements. Although her other one really packs a punch with those elemental enchantments. Still, more options is always a good thing. Plus this thing is elven made which may make her feel more in touch with her heritage.

You place the captive onto your horse and trot back into the plains. All the deformed orcs lay dead in the field, throats cut open save one – the one still paralyzed and gurgling from the elf's poisoned arrow. You figure with how sneaky and quiet Kyra is blind opponents must be just a cakewalk. She secures the last surviving deformed orc and put it on her own horse. You're still two days ride from town, but maybe if you push hard you can make it back in one day.

The elf starts to groggily come back to his senses once the brisk pace of your loyal steed begins bouncing him a bit. Thankfully you've mastered securing people to horses at this point or else his futile struggles to fall off your horse would be not so futile.

A few hours in to your ride and you realize you're getting pretty tired.

>Push it, get to Seaside by the afternoon
>Camp and rest, make it there by evening of today

>>196638
>>Push it, get to Seaside by the afternoon

>>196638
>Push it, get to Seaside by the afternoon

Writing!

File: Blue Jay.jpg (327 KB, 2400x1600)

327 KB JPG

You'll just have to catch some rest once you're back in town. Damn your enemies for attacking you late at night when you're about to rest. It's like they're doing it on purpose.

This won't be your longest stint of wakefulness but it will hopefully be your longest stint without doing or saying something embarassing.

Kyra also noticeably seems to have bags under her eyes. You spot even her generally solid focus waver every once in a while.

You ride through the night, into the morning and well into the afternoon


“Alan, look up,” you hear Muffin chitter conspiratorially into your ear. You look up. Seems to just be the bright blue sky, sun shining peacefully down onto the earth. A few birds soaring through the sky. Nothing in particular seems out of the ordinary.

“I don't see anything,” you whisper back.

“The blue jay,” he tells you. You squint your eyes. Sure enough, one of the birds flying by happens to be a blue jay. Huh, you think you recall seeing a blue jay flying by a few hours ago. Is that the same one? It is flying in the same direction your little group is heading.

“You don't think . . .”

“You're kidding, right?” the talking squirrel asks incredulously. Yeah, you guess you're the last person who should be shocked someone is utilizing animal allies. It's too far for you to deal with in any fashion, so you just make a mental note of its presence as you ride into Seaside.

You quickly inform the guards of your situation and they come and take the two bound persons from you. One of the nearby gate-watchers has to hold their vomit back with their hand from spying the orcish figure. You admit, if it wasn't for the tolerance you've built up to grisly sights, you can imagine losing your lunch at the sight of it.

The bluejay flies above you into Seaside.

>Go get some sleep first
>Deal with the bluejay
>Be there for the interrogation of the elf
>Go see Rowe
>Go see Gilda about the orc
>Something else? (write-in)

>>196780
>>Deal with the bluejay
maybe we could have Kyra knock it out of the sky?

>>196798
You'd honestly be much more capable of that.

>>196801
Ok, that'll do.

can we
>Be there for the interrogation of the elf
>Go see Gilda about the orc
afterwards?

Writing!

So you're trying to shoot it down?

Roll me 1d100 + 39, best of 3

Rolled 97 + 39 (1d100 + 39)

>>196850
Well, unless there's any other way to bring it down and take it alive.

Come to think of it, could I just clip a wing? Also, we're perfectly capable of healing it afterwards, yes?

Rolling anyways.

Rolled 73 + 39 (1d100 + 39)

>>196864

>Come to think of it, could I just clip a wing?

Well, with that roll, yeah.

Rolled 59 + 39 (1d100 + 39)

>>196850
Uh, even if we catch the bird, how do we interrogate it?

>>196914
I'm... not sure. I was going to suggest Muffin, but then maybe Quissonce has some spells for that.

Man, I hope the blue jay isn't one of Essentia's and we just accidentally shot down one of the Archmage's scouts/familiars.

>>196935
Yeah, I'm hoping it's not one of our allies. Which is why I'm opting to capture it alive.

>>196868
We can capture it alive after clipping the wing, right?

File: Pascala.jpg (181 KB, 764x1280)

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You quickly dismount Tornado and begin stalking the bird through the streets from the ground. Thankfully its attention seems solely focused on the elf currently being dragged away by two regular, every day guardsmen.

If it was smart it would be keeping an eye out for its own safety. Although, you don't think you've ever heard of bluejays being particularly smart. Squirrels neither though, and Muffin seems to be pretty sharp.

Regardless, it's fluttering way too close to the Earth considering you're currently carrying a weapon that magically makes any arrow you loose have a much greater range than normal.

You sneak yourself into a cranny under the overhang of a hookah's shop's entrance and line up a shot as the bluejay momentarily perches itself on a nearby roof in your line of sight.

You draw an arrow back and take aim before the few passersby staring at you in a mixture of awe and fear draw too much attention to you.

The bluejay's head flits about as it studies its owner. You aim for its blind spot and loose.

The bluejay hears your shot at the last possible moment and flaps its wings to flee. Unfortunately for it, it's too slow and your shaft clips it straight through the wing, sending the bluejay careening towards the Earth as it fails to fly.

You whistle for Pascala to rush forward through the partally crowded streets to retrieve the bird – alive if at all possible – before someone accidentally steps on it.

She returns to you with a struggling, bleeding blue bird in her maw, one order from ripping the thing to shreds. It fights with unexpected vigor and determination, quite unlike the nature you've come to expect from birds of this type.

You break off the shaft of the arrow and pull it out of the bird's wing, it chirping angrily in pain. You pull your marble out and heal it, while it is still lodged precariously in your dog's teeth.

Now what? You look at Muffin.

“Don't look at me,” he tells you. “I can't speak bird.”

Hmmm

>Take it to Rowe
>Take it to Quissonce
>Take it to Essentia
>Take it to [insert name here]

>>196950
>Take it to Quissonce
Hey, if we can now talk to our familiar, maybe Quissonce can talk to her owl familiar, and the owl can interrogate the blue jay.

>>196950
>Take it to Quissonce

Writing!

File: Circle Magister Study.jpg (3.23 MB, 2560x1440)

3.23 MB JPG

You take the bird from Pascala and hold it tight. Not tight enough to kill it, but tight enough to keep it secure. You really can't stoop yourself to the level of tying up a bird with miniature rope. The idea is too silly to enact.

You make your way to the Circle and ascend to the fourth floor. You knock on her door and discover her and Ed are having an early dinner of salad and tea. Pascala shudders at the idea of such a meal.

You practically threaten to unleash a wild, angry bluejay into their pleasant evening dinner if they don't help you question the creature. Both of them tell you they don't know any spells to help one speak to animals.

“Can't you speak to Chester?” you ask.

“Yeah, I can,” she responds. “But only Chester. And Chester speaks Owl anyway, not bird. Try Eve. I recall she seemed able to speak to Muffin even before you could.”

"How do you know I can speak to Muffin?" You learned literally last night.

"All wizards master that eventually." Ed clears his throat loudly, earning a quick glance from Quissonce. "Well, wizards with familiars anyway. It means your soul bond is strengthening. Which means you're becoming a much more powerful wizard, Alan. Congratulations!"

You thank her for the information and the chat, before making your way to Eve's room on the sixth floor. She answers the door with enthusiasm, glad to see you and Muffin.

“What can I do you for, Alan?” she asks pleasantly as she starts serving you and your animals drinks.

You hold up the bluejay. “I need to interrogate this bird.”

Eve scrunches her eyebrows up in confusion for a moment before relaxing and giving you a thumbs up. She twirls her fingers and utters an incantation, a magic aura washing over her.

“OK! What do you want me to ask?”

>What do you ask the bird?

Roll me 1d100 + 5, best of 3.

Rolled 57 + 5 (1d100 + 5)

>>197073
"Who's your Master?"
"Where are they?"
"Why were you watching that elf?"

Rolled 52 + 5 (1d100 + 5)

>>197073
"Who are you working for?"


(I imagine this being said in Christian Bale's Batman voice)

Rolled 9 + 5 (1d100 + 5)

>>197073
rolling for third

Also, roll 1d100 + 50, best of 3 to try and learn the spell if you so desire.

Writing!

Rolled 16 + 50 (1d100 + 50)

>>197133

Rolled 42 + 50 (1d100 + 50)

>>197133
Rolling for second.

Rolled 66 (1d100)

>>197133

Rolled 34 + 50 (1d100 + 50)

>>197133

File: Flying Squirrel.jpg (54 KB, 500x437)

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“Eve, ask it who it's master is,” you instruct her.

She warble-sings to it and it chirps out it's own bird-like response.

“Rafs here says his master is Master,” she tells you.

“Like THE Master? The one responsible for the attack on Seaside?”

“No, just Master.”

“Like how Pascala calls you Master,” Muffin explains.

“You can talk to Pascala?” you ask your familiar.

“You can talk to Muffin?” Eve asks incredulously.

Ask the bird to describe it's master. Another rapid fire exchange between Eve and the blue jay occurs.

“Long blonde hair. Sharp pointy ears. Rather tall. Currently being held against his will. Sounds like an elf.” Well that confirms a few of your ideas.

“Why were you watching him?” you ask Eve who forwards your question the bird.

“He says he was trying to find out where they were taking him to inform the rescue party,” Eve relays to you.

Rescue party? That doesn't sound good. Thankfully you think you've managed to memorize the chant and gestures to that spell Eve just casted. It's not that you don't like Eve, you just hate having to have a middleman.

>Sleep Time
>Rowe Time
>Elf Time
>Gross Orc Time
>Ask the blue jay more questions? (write-in)
>Something else? (write-in)

>>197251
Sorry about that middle part.

It should say.

Eve asks incredulously.

You sigh out and ignore the question, deciding to move on. "Ask the bird to describe it's master."

>>197251
>Elf Time
Interrogation!

>>197251
>Ask the blue jay more questions? (write-in)
Where's the rescue party and who's in it?
>>Elf Time

Writing!

>>197266
So, what do we ask him aside from who he is and what he's doing trying to kill us?

>>197304
Where's he from, what did he do to the orcs, where's his rescue party, and is he a complete idiot?

File: Interrogation Rooms.jpg (1.81 MB, 1500x1200)

1.81 MB JPG

“Ask about the rescue party. Who would be in it?”

“Rafs is telling me that there will be the singing female, the stealthy one and the unstable one.”

You gulp. Those people sound slightly ominous.

“I tried to get him to cough up more info," Eve explains in apology. "But the bird's holding out on me. If only he would, uh, sing like a canary.” She elbows you in the hip. “Get it Alan?” She bumps you with her elbow again. “Get it?”

You get it.

You find some feed for your animals as a momentary reward for their efforts before quickly taking your leave of the Circle and Eve's presence. She waves goodbye to you, still snickering at her own joke.

You stride across town to the Overseer's complex and let the guards pinprick your finger for blood. You find Blackburn who looks a bit surprised to see you.

“You look a bit worse for wear Alan. I thought you'd be sleeping off your miniature ordeal about now.”

“Lotta stuff I need to do. I want to talk to the elf.”

He looks at you, lips pursed. Eyes filled with apprehension. He mulls your request over in his mind for a minute before coming to some decision.

“Alright Alan. Dart is with him now. I'll show you where we put him.”

He gets up from his desk and locks his office behind him. You follow him down a corridor and make a few twists and turns before ending up among a row of cells that span both walls. You go to the far side of the hallway, to the cell at the end and wait a few moments as Blackburn performs a rhythmic tap on the mettalic door before unlocking it with a key.

You enter to spot Dart wiping her hands with a wet cloth that she dumps into a bucket of water upon seeing you.

The elf sits tied to a chair, gag still in place. He seems to have a few fresh cuts on his forehead.

“Just starting foreplay here, boys. Killing the mood for me.”

Blackburn takes a step back and looks between the two of you. You sigh out.

>Ask your questions with them both here
>Ask Dart to leave
>Tell Dart not to talk shit to your girlfriend
>Ask Dart and Blackburn to skedaddle
>Ask Blackburn to leave, Dart can stay
>Something else? (write-in)

>>197390
>>Ask your questions with them both here
>>197304
>>197312

>>197390
>Something else
Get up to the elf, hold his head with both heads, force him to look us in the eye.
Ask our questions from >>197312
except for the complete idiot part; save that for last.
Tell him in Elvish that this doesn't have to be done with the human woman over there.
That things will go well for everyone, including his rescue party, if he just answers some of the basic questions.

Ask if he's ever heard of the Assimilator.

Writing!

>>197420
I am kind of curious if we can channel our assimilation power through our hands.

>>197434
Roll me 1d100 + 40, best of 3. Maybe'll you pick something up.

Rolled 92 + 40 (1d100 + 40)

>>197444

Rolled 61 + 40 (1d100 + 40)

>>197444
If we do, can we whisper it into the elf's ear, in elvish, that we'll get the information from him, one or the other.

Rolled 33 + 40 (1d100 + 40)

>>197444
rolling third

>>197447
Damn Alan, you scary.

Looks like we'll be sucking out this elf's soul.

Hah! I wonder what the expression on his face will be when he realizes we stole his immortality (we don't really steal the abilities, just copy them).

>>197463
>stole his immortality
I'm actually not sure about this, since, IIRC, Rowe might have been discomforted by this.

I mean, our significant other(s) aren't immortal, so I'm not inclined to partake of it unless they have it, too.

>>197481
>Rowe might have been discomforted by this.
She said that, while she thinks we should take immortality if we can get it, it would be just one more thing that would make her feel inadequate.

>>197489
Yeah, that's what it was.

Ah, who needs to live forever, anyways?

>>197495
We do.

>>197502
Eh, I'm not so much interested in it. Fairly low on my list of priorities, and it'd probably hurt Rowe on some level.

This update will take a while. I'm crafting it.

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You look between the two of them. Dart folds her arms and smirks at you. She seems to enjoy watching you squirm. Asking them to leave, even if they honor the request, may come off a tad disrespectful. And Dart may just work as a good presence to keep in the room to remind the elf exactly what his best options are.

You walk towards him and notice him tense up slightly as you get close. Instead of hitting him like he expects you merely approach and wait for him to look at you. When his gaze stays glued to the floor you decide to grab him by the head and force him to look at you. His slanted, yellowish eyes stare into you, a dull hate emanating from them. As if he's hoping his stare will bore through your flesh and kill you

“Where are you from?” you ask him in Elven.

He doesn't respond, except with that same hateful stare, although a trace of curiosity enters his eyes as his ears prick up a bit at hearing you speak. Something about the way you speak Elven surprised him.

You lick your lips at the prospect of how resistant this one's going to be. Dart giggles behind you. You look back at her. She can speak Elven, obviously. Why else would she be allowed to wail on him.

You look back to the elf. “What did you do to those orcs?”

The curiosity goes away and the defiant silence comes back.

“The people coming to rescue you. Where are they?” you ask.

More steadfast quiet. Broken by a comment from Dart. “Ooh, rescuers. How lovely.”

You nod your head over to Dart. “Things will go well for you, including any of your friends coming to rescue you, if you just answer my questions. We don't have to do things her way.”

He leans forward a bit and smirks. “I think we do.” First bit of talking you've gotten him to do so far.

“Ooh, I love consent,” Dart opines in Elven.

“I've had worse than you, woman,” he speaks around you to her. “Either way you want to take that.”

No, torture is the thing you were hoping to avoid here. One last avenue before you assume Blackburn acts on that disappointment plain on his face and asks you to leave.

“Have you ever heard of the Assimilator?” you ask him.

He chuckles. “What?”

“So you haven't then.” You point to yourself. “I'm the Assimilator.”

“What is that even supposed to mean?” he asks. You study him for a second. His pupils are starting to dilate more. The light coming through the open doorway Blackburn is leaning against is the cause of that. Without it, this room is pretty dark. Exceptionally dark.

“You have good eyesight,” you tell him honestly. He looks at you quizzically. “You see well in the dark. Elven eyes. Much better than the ones us humans have.”

“Your point?” he asks.

“Look at my eyes,” you tell him. “Really look at them. Because I'm definitely looking at yours. Seeing how they move, how they're designed, how they excel. I'm studying the color, the form, the essence of how you see.”

“How romantic. When's the date?”

“Look at my eyes,” you repeat.

His eyes squint at yours. Blackburn, having understood your meaning quickly into your rant has slowly swung the door shut. Even Dart seems a bit wildly enthused with what's about to transpire. Your eyes ever so gradually shift as you adjust to the darkness of the room, barely lit from the lighted torches seeping light underneath the door. You can see much better in this darkness than ever before. You can see every little detail of his face as if it was a bright sunny day.

His jaw drops as he finally notices the change. He scoots back in the chair, it falls over with a heavy THUD as he tries to scurry backwards away from you.

“What are you?!” he demands as you move towards his bound, fallen form. That's not the first time you've heard that question. You kneel in front of him.

“I am what I need to be,” you growl. “One way or another I'm getting that information if I have to rip it from your skull.”

“ALRIGHT! ALRIGHT, STOP! I'll tell you. Just stop!”

Blackburn swings the door back open and lets light shine back into the room. You back away as Dart comes forward. She re-rights the elf's chair, shoving him back into it. He readjusts and settles himself as you back up, arms crossed.

“Shit,” he mutters to himself. “This place is fucking crazy.” He takes a few calming breaths as he looks you up and down, as if he was searching for some sort of explanation written on your body. “I guess that explains why you don't have an accent,” he eventually says, laughing inwardly to combat the fear.

“No accent?” you ask curiously.

“Your Elven doesn't have an accent. I assume you ripped that out of someone else.”

“Actually, I had a dedicated and proficient teacher for that,” you tell him, in an attempt to pull back from the scare tactics to at least make yourself seem reasonable.

“Oh, mother's side or father's side?” he asks, genuine curiosity in his voice.

“What?”

“Grand-parent? Great grand-parent? There has to be some elvish ancestry in there.” He nods to Blackburn and Dart. “Even those two have an accent. Can't teach that shit unless it's from birth.”

>Wait . . . what?
>Just ask your questions
>Actually, my girlfriend taught me a few months ago
>Something else? (write-in)

>>197766
>>Something else? (write-in)
"Don't know much about my own ancestry, so I can't say."

>>197766
>Something else
"Oh, no. No known elven ancestry. Like I said, I'm VERY good at learning."

Writing!

“Nope. No known elven ancestry. Just VERY good at learning.”

He chuckles. “Thought you were good at taking.”

You rub the back of your head. “Learning is a lot like being given permission to take something.”

“So, what, that was stealing?”

“That was a mugging,” Dart chimes in.

“Alright, back to the questions,” Blackburn says in the human tongue, trying to get you back on track.

“Where are you from?” you ask him.

“Where did I come from?” he asks. You nod your head. “Our camp's past the forest. On the other side.”

“What did you do to the orcs?”

“Nothing. They were rejects from some sort of experiment. Didn't ask, just took 'em. Well, guided them really. Like a herd of buffalo.”

“Where's your rescue party?”

“I don't know. Hopefully outside that door about to bust in and kill you all. Hey, when do your eyes go back?”

“Never,” you tell him.

“Oh. That's . . . huh.”

>More questions?
>Something else? (write-in)

>>197982
>>More questions?
"You're working for....?"
"Why attack me with mutant orcs?"
"Where did they come from (location)?"

>>197982
Who does he work for?
As in, a nation on this island, or elsewhere.

What was the reason for attacking Alan and Kyra?

Writing!

Camp?

“Who do you work for?” This guy doesn't feel particularly . . . native.

“Oh, well . . . Kardas, I guess.”

Silence. Absolute silence.

You take in that information, understand the truth of it and lean back, looking up at the ceiling. Huh.

Blackburn rushes forward, the sound of his boots slamming into the hard stone floor.

“WHAT? What do you mean you're working for Kardas.”

“The . . . Kardas Empire? Totalitarian conglomerate of states. Maybe you've heard of them."

“They're here? On this Island?”

He looks from one of your shocked faces to the next, a realization slowly dawning on him.

“You . . . didn't know?” he asks. He looks down at the ground and studies it. “They never said you didn't know.” He says it like he's just now putting together a very complex puzzle. “Baron's going to be very mad about that one.”

“How long have they been here?” Blackburn demands, uncharacteristically red in the face and uncomposed.

“Uhhhhhhh, I've been here a few months. The whole operation's been here a year or two at most.”

You think Blackburn might be about to faint. He puts his hand to his mouth and backs away.

Dart steps up in his place, brandishing a blade.

“So you're Imperial?” she asks.

“Nope. Born Cerilian.” Blackburn has rushed out of the room.

“So you're a traitor.” Dart shoves the knife up to his throat.

“Prisoner of war, actually,” he informs her, coolly. The threat of violence doesn't seem to be doing much to scare him. “On a work release program sorta thing, but I decided it was time to make a break for it.”

You find yourself scoffing of the idiocy of this statement. “Then why did you attack us?”

“I wanted to ask one of you a question and didn't feel like walking up and dealing with . . . well, this type of shit. And, frankly, you can all go fuck yourselves.”

Dart presses the blade to his throat a bit, a stream of blood flowing from the shallow cut.

“Want to repeat that?” she asks through gritted teeth.

“And, FRANKLY, you can all go –”

You grab Dart's hand and stop her from slicing his throat open then and there. She gives you a death glare, but you're actually quite interested at the moment.

“What question?” you ask. If it was so important he was willing to risk dying for it, you might as well know it.

He looks up at you and grins for a moment, a little too happily. His face drops back to neutral.

“It's a simple one,” he informs you.

“Where's Rowe?”


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

>>198259
Damn you and your plot twists, Trick! Damn you! I'll see you in hell! Or next weekend, whichever comes first.

>>198259
We should tell Dart that she needs to back off from our source of Elven secrets.
And turn to the elf and tell him that he needs to spill everything about the Imperial operation here, or we're simply going to take it from him, one piece of his body and soul at a time.

>>198310
We may not need to go that far in threatening him. This is Rowe's friend from way back when, I think. The one she supposedly also killed to spare him from living in captivity/torture, IIRC?

>>198391
That person should be dead.

Anyway, we could tell him that "Yes, I am going to Hell. In fact, I plan on it. Even got a reputation among its denizens and those that inhabit the Abyss. Apparently they're scared shitless because of what I can do, what I can take from them, what I will do to all of them. So, either tell me everything of the Empire's operation, or I'll send you down to the Hells after I take everything from you, as a warning of what they can expect.
"Truth be told, I'll probably still take everything from you. Tell me what I want to know, and you can live until after I finish with Hell."

>>198428
Yeah, that person should be dead, but we should probably check his name just to be sure.

Also, I wouldn't suggest using that threat unless it's gotten to the point where he's completely uncooperative. I think we have a considerable amount of soft power to use before doing that, so let's leave it as a last resort.

>>198455
Eh, I suppose.
Though I am getting tired of us being free entertainment for Dart.

Ugh, Rowe is going to be upset again that we assimilated one more ability, and even more upset that it's elven.
And that's not including that we still have to tell her about our mutual attraction with Gabby but that we aren't acting on because we love Rowe and Gabby, of all people, is too professional to fuck a co-worker.

>>198455
>>198428

You guys are like the devil and angel on Alan's shoulders before he assimilates them and destroys them.

>>198514
Oh, that reminds me, whatever happened to that succubus?
Was she able to hold out against Dart? Did Dart kill her so that the Succubus could poof back to the Abyss and spread the tales of the Assimilator?

It feels like we didn't do enough to put fear into her.

>>198503
Yeah, I'm scared to talk to her about these things.

Maybe we should stop assimilating stuff all the time?

And yeah, the talk about Gabby might make her angry, but I've got my fingers crossed that we can actually pull this off.


>>198514
I'm just wondering where everyone else went... but then I remembered that people probably didn't find Saturday to be the best time for them.

>>198531
>It feels like we didn't do enough to put fear into her.

She did shriek at you and call you an abomination the next time you saw her.

She could possibly be in one of the other cells. You heard that Essentia traded the succubus to Blackburn for a lot of money that she immediately used to fund revitalizing the Circle.

>>198537
Honestly, it's been mainly you two for a few threads now. Maybe it was the switch to /qst/ but I doubt it. It feels like interest in the quest has been dwindling, but I keep checking the archives and the threads keep getting upboated and my twitter following keeps going up incrementally so I assume there are some archive bingers.

>>198548
So yeah, it might just be the time for the players of your quest.

>She did shriek at you and call you an abomination the next time you saw her.
But she didn't huddle in a far corner, curled up into a ball, sobbing that she'll tell them whatever they want, just to get THAT THING away from her.

It'll be interesting if we pray and commune with the Great Will, and get a read on what our god thinks of fueling an engine of its own destruction.

>>198537
>Maybe we should stop assimilating stuff all the time?
What, and depend solely on our current skills only, like some kind of pleb that can't learn new skills?

>>198586
>fueling an engine of its own destruction.

I will say there has yet to be a vote on whether Alan plans to absorb/destory The Great Will so currently there's no beef, it seems.

>>198609
>there has yet to be a vote on whether Alan plans to absorb/destory The Great Will so currently there's no beef
Oh, I don't think Alan would destroy the Great Will; he thinks that as deity goes, it's a pretty swell god.

Of course, plotting its destruction and simply wanting to learn all he can from it, are two different things.
I wonder if the Great Will has any angels, and what they will feel towards Alan when he starts assimilating their divine gifts.

>>198586
Ok, well, maybe not the elven stuff, but we can probably assimilate other things.

>>198548
Well, at any rate, we'll definitely need to see this cliffhanger through next session.

I just hope we don't fall asleep halfway through.


The closer we get to talking to Rowe, the less my mind is at ease. I guess that's part of the quest. There has to be a sense of suspense and all, but spreading it out over several weeks has made it ever more disquieting. It's like the Shrodinger's Cat of feelings, in that I'm slightly relieved the event has not come up yet, and yet anxiously waiting to see the results of the aftermath.

>>198629
Just vote to avoid her forever Wrenloft, then you never have to worry!

File: Good is what Evil Fears.png (99 KB, 455x329)

99 KB PNG

>>198629
>assimilate other things
We will become that which Hell and the Abyss fears.

>>198635
Alternatively, get the event over with soon and deal with the aftermath.

Hopefully, we can do that next session.

>>198657
I suppose the interesting question would be whether or not we can impart our Assimilated traits to other people? Or has this question already been asked?

File: Shitty Map.png (8 KB, 400x400)

8 KB PNG

Here's a crappy map

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
>>198679
It seems so but its a bit random and heavily slanted towards particular things, For example, Rowe only gets insight into sorcerous magical stuff.

>>198688
is the effects temporary or permanent?

>>198703
Rowe learned magic, so permanent

>>198503
>Gabby, of all people, is too professional to fuck a co-worker
Hm, actually, going back into the archives to that conversation, she said she'd still bed us even had it been Dolah or Dart we were dating. She liked Rowe enough, I think, to respect her relationship with us and because she didn't want to cause infighting due to jealousy. of course, if we can convince Rowe of duogomy, then this may no longer be an issue.

>>198718
I wonder if immortality can also be imparted? We don't have any control over what traits we can transfer? Perhaps we could practice and try to have some control over it?

>>198548
I'm from Europe so your running times usually are bad for me and I have to read up in the archives (or in the still open thread like now). I still like the quest.

>>197982
>“Never,” you tell him.
Will they really never go back or was that just a lie? Because a) that means we will become less and less human over time and b) we might now have Rowe's Ex's eyes, I'm not sure how she will react to that.

>>199558
>Will they really never go back or was that just a lie? Because a) that means we will become less and less human over time and b) we might now have Rowe's Ex's eyes, I'm not sure how she will react to that.
This is indeed somewhat troubling.

>>199558
>>199776

Your eyes haven't taken on his eye color, but they have developed a more elfish look to them. The design has shifted to be more suited to seeing in the dark. So while they aren't 'elf eyes' they possess a similar physicality.