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>>1225811
"Well, look what we have here. You belong to me now."

The ash-skinned elf holds a blade to your throat, and chuckles as you try and grab her arm. Pressing the knife slightly harder, she draws a thin line of blood, and you freeze. "That's better. Sit still, like a good little toy."

Around you, you see several similarly scantily-clad men and women, presumably dark elves like the one on top of you, all holding knives and swords to your men's throats. Wait. Where's Cellica?

Frantically looking around, you don't see her anywhere. You're not quite sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing. Raising an eyebrow, the dark elf straddling your chest says, "What might you be looking for, hmm? A friend, hiding, looking for a chance to save you? An opportunity to escape? Either way, nothing can help you now."

Standing up, she kicks you in the side, surprisingly hard for such a slight woman. "Stand up, pet. If you're a good boy, I might keep you for myself."

Grinding your teeth in frustration, you consider your options. You could probably overpower the woman, but your men are at risk, and Cellica is nowhere to be found. Or, you could go with the woman, and your situation could possibly get even worse.

>(Grab her by the leg, pull her down, pin her.)
>(Stand up, try and grab her knife.)
>(Stand up, comply.)
>"Who are you? Why are you doing this?"
>Write-in.

>>1225823
>>(Stand up, comply.)
All of our men are in the same situation. We can't do anything rash or things will get messy, quick.

>>1225823
>>"Who are you? Why are you doing this?"
>>(Stand up, try and grab her knife.)

Take her counter-hostage.

Rolled 1 (1d2)

>>1225828
>>1225830
>Rollan

1 = Comply

2 = Question and counter-hostage

>>1225823
>(Stand up, comply.)
>"Who are you? Why are you doing this?"

>>1225855
>(Stand up, Comply)

>Writing.

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>>1225823

You stand up, wary of the knife.

"Who are you? Why are you doing this?"

The woman smirks, tracing a finger along your chest. "I'm Laela Duskryn, and, well, your men can bring legitimacy to my house again. Property is power, after all." She cups your chin in one hand, forcing you to look down into her eyes. Smiling at something she sees in your face, she lashes out with her knife, leaving a red line across your chest. It's more painful than anything else, but it still causes you to wince.

"Oh, I am going to love breaking you." She practically purrs, and then nods to her men. "Get them in irons, and ready them for transport. As for this one, well," She gives you a wink, "I'll keep him in my tent."

Laela's men start chaining your men up, in a line, kicking them to their knees, beating them down, and shoving them down to the dirt. Two of them approach you with shackles for your hands and feet, and bow respectfully to Laela, who smirks, and motions for them to shackle you.

Slapping the chains on your wrists and ankles securely, they murmur to each other, just loud enough for you to hear, "So, bets on this one?"

"I'd give him six months to a year. He's a strong one. Unlike Mistress' last toy."

"I was about to say the same. Although... if Mistress decides to play rough...."

They chuckle darkly, and bow to Laela as they walk away.

Looking at you, considering something, Laela laughs quietly, and suddenly has a collar and chain in her hands. How... The cold metal clicks shut around your neck, and she yanks you forward, with strength surprising for such a small woman. "Come, pet. We have a long night ahead of us."

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

You walk for hours, getting dragged along by Laela, listening to your men shuffle forward, occasionally getting beaten by their guards, crying out in pain. Eventually, you reach the plains, where a large camp, hidden by the surrounding hills, sits. Several large tents surround a bonfire, and in between the tents, large cages with the shapes of men. A considerable amount of of horses are in a pen, milling about, and you are led to the center of the camp.

Oh no,

As you reach the cages, you see the abused faces of your Teuton brothers, dressed in rags, bruised and bloody. They murmur as you pass, a glimmer of hope entering their eyes. You instinctively reach out, trying to help, somehow, but Laela yanks you back, painfully.

"Oh no no, you aren't for the cages. You're coming with me." She forces you to look at the largest tent, which light and smoke streams from, the sounds of debauchery within.

>(Struggle)
>"Let me take care of my men, you bitch!"
>(Comply)
>Write-in.

>>1225947
>comply

we a femdom fetish quest now

>>1225947
>Struggle
>"Let me take care of my men."

>>1225957
totally

not really

Ten minutes, and then I'm rolling.

I really dislike rolling for decisions

>>1225947
>Struggle
And
>Pray to the Lord for guidance

>>1225962
>>1225997
There we go.

>Struggle.

>Writing.

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>>1225947

You twist away, pulling yourself back to the bars of the cage. Grabbing the bars, you look to your man, and ask, "What happened? Who do you follow, Berthold, or Sigmund?" At 'Berthold', you see the man start to react, and he tries to respond, but before he can, you're pulled backwards violently.

Landing on your back, you look up at Laela, dazed. She shakes her head, smiling. "Tsk tsk tsk, little knight. It looks like you're going to have to sleep for a bit for defying me."

You gaze on with horror as she starts to draw her hands through the air, inscribing a magick symbol between you and her, and it glows with power. Transfixed and terrified, you don't notice the heavy footsteps coming from behind you. With a deep laugh, a tall, big man with steel-covered boots kicks you in the head, and you lose consciousness.

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

Ugh.... That hurt.

When you come to, you discover that you are chained between two of the tent posts, arms raised above and behind your head. It's enough to be constantly uncomfortable, yet not explicitly painful. All around you, smoke hangs heavy, filling the air with a pleasant, yet somehow wrong smell. Within the smoke and haze, lie several dark bodies lie intertwined in the throes of pain, passion, whatever, on cushions and rugs of red and purple.

Behind you, you hear a sultry laugh.

"Awake, now, my pet? Good, good. You're just in time for a... specialist. You're going to have fun, and I'm going to watch." You react to this by yanking at your chains, thrashing about, trying to pull the tent down, something, but to no avail. Laela laughs. "Ah, I would get involved, but I think it'll be more fun to just watch, at least this once."

Struggling a bit, you freeze as you see the tent flap open, letting in a hooded figure, cloaked from head to toe in rags that continually shifted, obscuring their figure. It approaches you with soft footsteps that, while silent, cause you to shake with some primal fear. Suddenly doused in sweat, and shaking, you look up into the black nothing that is the thing's 'face', terrified, yet transfixed.

Producing an already-burning brand from within its robes, it holds it under your nose, letting you feel the heat, before thrusting it into your chest.

Everything burns.

>Roll 1d20, BO3 to resist.

Rolled 2 (1d20)

>>1226039
These cunts can't break us!

Rolled 19 (1d20)

>>1226039

Rolled 19 (1d20)

>>1226039
Deus Vult

>>1226081
thx m80

>19

>Writing

Good job rolling

This is turning into corruption of champions. Crusader Corruption Quest?

>>1226039

The sizzling sound, and smell of your own cooking flesh. The pain of burning metal. Your own screams.

You hear, see, and smell all this as if detached from your body, looking down upon your own torture, although you know you this is impossible. It goes on for hours, brand pressing against your chest, screaming, burning. Eventually, the cloaked figure runs out of places to burn, before it moves to your back, frustrated.

Eventually, it runs out of places to burn there, too, and it starts pacing back and forth, frustrated. You look down on your body and shudder. Your torso is reduced to a bloody, meaty mess, charred and burned. You look like meat on a spit.

The hooded figure is about to start on your face, when Laela calls it off, strange look on her face. Walking over to your body, she raises your head, and starts looking in your eyes, and suddenly you are back in your body.

Pain washing over you in a wave, you grit your teeth and stare back, defiant. You will not be broken by this... harlot.

She smirks, letting your head drop, limp. "Well well, it seems I underestimated you. I'll be back tomorrow."

You grunt, and simply spit at her feet, causing her to laugh.

"I'm going to sleep. Have a good night."

Shuddering as she leaves to a second... 'room', you let out a gasp of pain. Everything is pain.

"Victor?!?!?"

From above you, you hear a calming voice. Cellica.

Wait, what?

Looking up, groaning, you see Cellica crouching in front of you, almost brought to tears by your wounds.

"Don't worry, Victor, I'll get you out, I- I can pick the locks of the cuffs, and then we'll-"

>"Cellica, get out, bring help, your people should be able to help."
>"Cellica, get out, bring help, my brothers should be able to help."
>"Cellica, what are you doing here!?!?!"
>(Let her try and get you out.)
>Write-in.

>>1226127
let her try to get you out

>>1226127
>(Let her try and get you out.)
then
>"Cellica, get out, bring help, your people should be able to help."

>>1226136
Supporting

>>1226127
>"Cellica, what are you doing here!?!?!"
>(Let her try and get you out.)

>(Let her try)
>"Cellica, get out, bring help, your people should be able to help."

>Writing

>"Cellica, get out, bring help, my brothers should be able to help."

She already said that they are going back tomorrow, so they may plan to stay here for a few days. Bringing the wrath of the crusade on their faces is probably the most sensible bet right now.

>>1226127

In too much pain to raise an objection, you hang there as she fumbles with the lock of the shackles, inexperienced with anything like this.

"Are... are you okay?" She realizes what she just said, and winces. "I... I mean, can you hear me?"

Weary, you try and raise your head, but are unable.

"Ye- *cough* yeah, I c-can." You cough up blood. Luckily for the rug below you, it's red in the first place.

"Okay..." She looks like she wants to help you, but continues messing with the lock on the shackles. "I'm gonna get you out, and then we're gonna go back to Mornaur, okay? We have hospitals there and they can help you. You're gonna be fine. I promise. It's gonna be okay."

Cellica fumbles with the lock, eventually getting it open. Falling to your knees, you gasp with pain. Your chest is on fire, or at least it feels like it. Cellica gasps.

"That- that doesn't look good..." You roll your eyes and give her a forced grin, teeth clenched. "Right, I'll get on the other one."

It takes a couple minutes, but she eventually gets it undone, and your arm falls to your side, limply. You try and stagger to your feet, but you fall down, crying out softly. Cellica looks at you sympathetically.

"Okay... this is gonna hurt... I'm going to cover your mouth for this, okay?"

You nod, and feel her place her hand over your mouth tightly, wondering what she's going to do- Your torso explodes with pain as she puts your arm around her shoulder, and drags you to your feet. You scream, but Cellica's hand is firmly in place, like an iron vise.

Panting, you stop, and her hand falls away. She looks up at you nervously. "Sorry..."

You shake your head. "No, it was necessary..."

Shaking with pain, and leaning on Cellica, you two stagger forward. Now that you're closer, and moving forward, you see that the dark elves in the throes of passion and pain are staring vacantly, giggling and moaning to themselves. They won't alert anyone. Pushing through the tentflap, you enter the camp, and veer to the right quickly, ducking behind a stack of crates that give off the same odd odor that the smoke had.

Below you, a dead dark elf guard lies, gaping wound in his neck. You look at Cellica, who shrugs, and scans for anyone that might spot you. "He was in the way... Go, go."

She supports you, hurrying you along out of the camp, into the plains, and once you're a good distance away, calls out, softly, "Gwyndr," a word that sings out, almost sounding like it had a musical quality to it. Nearby, her mare, Solana, comes from where she was hidden in tall grass, whinnying when she smells you. Helping you onto Solana's back, Cellica hops on behind you, and turns the white horse, riding off at a gallop. You almost slip a few times, but Cellica helps you upright several times.

"Don't worry. I've got you. Just go to sleep."

And so you do, letting unconsciousness take you.


(cont.)

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>>1226252

You awake in a bed, an open, bright bedroom, unfamiliar to you. Your chest is no longer bare, rather, it is bandaged and wrapped in gauze carefully. It smells like... lavender?

The room is empty, and you hear the sound of the woods around you. Sitting up, groaning, you look around. Where...are you?


>Stay asleep. This bed is comfy.
>Get up, you need to find your men.
>Write-in.

>>1226361
>>Get up, you need to find your men.

I'm gonna be a while, going out to eat.

>>1226361
>Get up

>>1226361
Look for Samwise or Gandalf -- I mean, our men

>Get up

>>1226361
>Get up, you need to find your men.

>>1226361
>Get up, you need to find your men

We shall not abandon our brothers.

>Get up you lazy fuckboy

>Writing

Dark Elf chick isn't waifu material, right?

We're talking about enslavement and torture, both of us and our men. We're about to get our PURGE on, right?

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>>1226361

Standing up, you look for a door. There, behind you, behind a diaphanous curtain, leading to a balcony-

Your thoughts are interrupted by the entry of an attractive, dark-haired elf man, carrying a polished silver tray with several bottles of benign-looking liquids, gauze, and a pair of scissors. He brightens as he sees you standing.

"Ah, hello, Victor! You're up! Good!" Setting the tray on the balcony railing, he claps his hands cheerily, and says, "Stay here, stay here! I simply must tell Celly!"

Running off, he hums, and you stare at him.

.... Okay?

Leaning against the stone railing you look at the city around you. Buildings built into and around trees, and larger trees than the ones you saw where you went into the woods. You see several elves out and about, couples strolling with nothing to do, children running in groups, giggling while they played whatever game they were doing. Seems like a nice place.

From the right, you hear someone running up to you, and you see Cellica moving at a sprint along the stone walkway. When she reaches you, she looks like she wants to give you a hug, but stops herself.

"Victor! You're okay!"

>"As good as I can be, considering."
>"Not really, but it's good to see you."
>"I suppose this is your city?"
>"Is there anyone I can go to for help with the... situation?"
>Write-in

>>1226698
I should hope so.

>>1226708
>>Write-in
where are my men?

>>1226708
>>"Not really, but it's good to see you."
>Write-in
"How long have I been out? Where are my men?"

>>1226708
>"Is there anyone I can go to for help with the... situation?"

>Write-in
"How long have I been out?"

>>1226727
I'll support Bomb

>>1226708
>"Not really, but it's good to see you."
>"Is there anyone I can go to for help with the... situation?"

>>1226727
Support

>Not really, but it's good to see you.
>How long have I been out, where are my men?

>Writing

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>>1226708

"Not really, but it's good to see you."

Cellica's face falls a bit, but she shrugs. "Well, with what you went through..."

You nod curtly, and she notices, stopping.

"Well, this is my home! Mornaur, the city that we named after the woods!"

You smile, and say, "It's very nice, but if I might ask, how long have I been out? Where are my men?"

Cellica freezes slightly. "Um... it's the next day, you slept through the morning."

Your jaw drops. "It's just the next day? But... I don't feel like human meat anymore!"

Shuddering slightly at that comparison, Cellica says, "Well, Galadon's an amazing healer! He healed most of your wounds, although it's gonna hurt for quite a bit. And, well, your men are where we left them..."

Cellica falls silent, and you both look down. That camp, those cages... who knows what those dark elves are doing to your brothers... The two of you snap out of your individual thoughts of the camp by the black-haired elf, followed by...Sigmund? Your Brother of the Order follows you, in normal clothes, with a strange green cloak over it.

Taking your hand, Sigmund pulls you into a hug, but doesn't place a hand on your back, careful of your injuries. "Victor... It's good to see you up, mein Prinz. I was worried when I saw you come in on her horse."

Sigmund lets go, and leans against the outside wall of the room you were staying in. "My men and I stand ready to march, and wreak vengeance on these heathen. I've convinced this... Wyrran, to lend us aid as well. It seems that these 'Tenebris', more commonly known as 'Dark Elves', have been a threat in the area recently. He has a stake in seeing them eliminated."

Cellica and Galadon talk to themselves rapidly, in a flowery, sing-song language, ears perking up whenever Sigmund says a word they know. Shaking your head, you sigh, and consider your next words.

(To Sigmund)

>"I'm glad SOMEONE hasn't met a terrible fate. You know Berthold's men were there, too?"
>"Then we have a good-sized force ready to march on a moment's notice? Let's go as soon as possible."
>Write-in

(To Cellica)

>"I thought you said there were only wolves on the plains?"
>"We're going to need to move out soon. Is there any gear I can borrow? My armor and sword was captured."
>"Can you bring me to Wyrran? I'd like to speak to him."
>Write-in.

(To Galadon)

>"Thanks for healing me, by the way. You did an incredible job, what remedies did you use?"
>"So, who ARE you?"
>Write-in.

>>1226942
(To Sigmund)
>glad SOMEONE hasn't met a terrible fate. You know Berthold's men were there, too?"
(To Cellica)
>"Can you bring me to Wyrran? I'd like to speak to him."
>Thank you for rescuing me.
(To Galadon)
>May I have the pleasure of knowing he who save my life.

>>1226942
Sigmund
>>"I'm glad SOMEONE hasn't met a terrible fate. You know Berthold's men were there, too?"

Cellica
>"We're going to need to move out soon. Is there any gear I can borrow? My armor and sword was captured."

Galadon
>"Thanks for healing me, by the way. You did an incredible job, what remedies did you use?"
>"Would you be willing to teach any of us? It would prove invaluable in our plight."

>>1226942
Sigmund
>I'm glad SOMEONE hasn't met a terrible fate. You know Berthold's men were there, too?"
Celica
>"Can you bring me to Wyrran? I'd like to speak to him.
>"We're going to need to move out soon. Is there any gear I can borrow? My armor and sword was captured."
Galadon
>>May I have the pleasure of knowing he who save my life

>>1226942
(To Sigmund)
>"I'm glad SOMEONE hasn't met a terrible fate. You know Berthold's men were there, too?"
(To Cellica)
>"I thought you said there were only wolves on the plains?"
(To Galadon)
>"Thanks for healing me, by the way. You did an incredible job, what remedies did you use?"

>>1226956
This.
And give Cellica a hug too. Our savior deserves it

File: 1462719774024.gif (1.74 MB, 400x222)

1.74 MB GIF

>>1226942
>To Sig
>"Then we have a good-sized force ready to march on a moment's notice? Let's go as soon as possible."

>To Celly
>"We're going to need to move out soon. Is there any gear I can borrow? My armor and sword was captured."

>To Gally
>"Thanks for healing me, by the way. You did an incredible job, what remedies did you use?"
>Also, let's walk and talk.

We got Heathens to slay and Brothers to save. LET'S MOVE, PEOPLE.

>>1226956
This.
>>1227000
I really want to support the hug, but now doesn't seem like the time or the place. I think it'd have been a more impulsive thing.

>>1226956
Supporting.

(To Sigmund)
>glad SOMEONE hasn't met a terrible fate. You know Berthold's men were there, too?"
(To Cellica)
>"Can you bring me to Wyrran? I'd like to speak to him."
>"Thank you for rescuing me."
(To Galadon)
>"May I have the pleasure of knowing he who saved my life?"

>>1227034
>Writing

whoops, don't wanna accidentally Velo this

>>1226942

"Glad SOMEONE hasn't met a terrible fate. You know Berthold's men were there, too?"

Sighing, Sigmund shakes his head. "I hadn't known, but..." He runs his hand through his hair. "I had guessed, from what the lady and Wyrran had told me." He laughs, sadly. "You know that Berthold fought me for the plains? We both thought it would be easy duty. But if I hadn't 'lost', well...." He looks up at you. "It'd be me you'd be talking about in the past tense, not him."

"Come on, you can't know that he's dead-" Sigmund holds up a hand, cutting you off.

"I'm going to stop you there, Victor. You know Berthold. Brash as he is, he probably ended up with his head on a pike."

You want to contest this, but you realize that he's right. Your Brother is most likely dead.

Sigmund pats your shoulder, and starts to walk off. "I'll ready the men. See you then, Brother."

You nod. "Tag."

Sigmund gives an offhand wave, leaving you with the two elves.

Turning to Cellica, you say, "Thank you for rescuing me. I thought I was doomed to an eternity in there."

She smiles. "Well, it's not like I could leave you there, could I?"

You nod, but press on. "Still. I appreciate it. Where were you, anyways, when we got captured? I was more surprised by that than the knife to my throat."

Cellica blushes, embarrassed. "Well.... I tried to wake you up... but, well, you were fast asleep. I had just enough time to bolt up the tree we were under and hide. I followed you to the camp." Spreading her hands, she shrugs. "And you know the rest."

"Can you bring me to Wyrran? I'd like to speak to him." Galadon's eyebrows shoot up, as if he was surprised by the casual use of Wyrran's name. He must be a big deal, if he has so much pull in Mornaur.


(Cont.)

>>1227183

Cellica freezes,and gives you an uneasy smile. "Su-sure! I can do that!" She laughs, uneasy, and trails off, wringing her hands, looking to the side. Does she have something against Wyrran?

Shaking your head, you turn to the dark-haired elf. Holding out your hand for him to shake, you ask, "May I have the pleasure of knowing he who saved my life?"

Galadon nods, brightly. Shaking your hand, he says, "Of course! I am Galadon Et Vologod, Master Healer of the Mornaur woods! Pleased to meet you! Well, meet you while you were conscious, anyways."

Cellica nudges him, and says, "Gally might be a bit dramatic, but he actually is a really good Healer. He's not a Master, though. That's Vologod's position."

Galadon nudges her back, and mock whispers, "Celly..... I was trying to impress him! Why do you always have to tell people that?"

She raises an eyebrow, and smirks. "What, the truth?"

Galadon bows his head in shame. "My dear, you wound me."

You raise your eyebrows, and say,

>"Not a full Master, eh? You still must be pretty good to heal me so quickly."
>"Is this an act? Will two puppets come out of nowhere and start hitting each other?"
>"He one of those friends you listed off on one hand, Cellica?"
>"Let's talk while we move, shall we?"
>Write-in.

>>1227188
>"Is this an act? Will two puppets come out of nowhere and start hitting each other?"
>"Let's talk while we move, shall we?"

>>1227188
>"He one of those friends you listed off on one hand, Cellica?"
>"Let's talk while we move, shall we?"

>>1227188
>>"He one of those friends you listed off on one hand, Cellica?"
>>"Let's talk while we move, shall we?"

>"He one of those friends you listed off on one hand, Cellica?"
>"Let's talk while we move, shall we?"

>Writing

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>>1227188

"He one of those friends you listed off on one hand, Cellica?"

Cellica laughs, embarrassed, and says, "Yeah..."

Galadon smiles. "Oh, yeah, I've known Celly for her whole life! We've lived near each other for years!" He puts his arm around her, pulling her close. "We're inseparable, like a bow and arrow! Like bread and butter! Like peas in a pod!"

Raising an eyebrow, you decide to not question Cellica's decision to leave without telling her close friend first. At least not now. "Let's talk while we walk, shall we?" You motion the two forward. Walking along the walkway, an elf on either side, you say, "Lead me to Wyrran, will you?"

Nodding, Cellica points you the way to wherever Wyrran is, whenever you reach an intersection. The city is surprisingly open and uncrowded for one in a forest, with not much foot traffic. Eventually, you find your way to a building taller than the others, a tower that's hard to tell if it was built around or in the great oak that it's intertwined with. Cellica points directly at it.

"So... Wyrran. Is he some sort of king?"

Galadon looks at you askance, as if you just said something strange. "No, he's not a king. But he is our leader. Quite a controversial one, too. He's more hands-on Fineri than the last one, and some on the council are bringing his mixed blood into the argument, what with the Dark Elves on the plains nearby."

This is going over your head. You think you get the gist of it, but Galadon is saying this as if you should know it already.

>"So... what IS Galadon if not a king? You mentioned a council?"
>"What's a Fineri?"
>"He's got a big house if he isn't a king."
>"Mixed blood? He's part Dark Elf?"
>Write-in.

>>1227392
>>"Mixed blood? He's part Dark Elf?"

>>1227392
>"He's got a big house if he isn't a king."

>>1227392
>"Mixed blood? He's part Dark Elf?"
>"He's got a big house if he isn't a king."
>"So... what IS Galadon if not a king? You mentioned a council?"

>>1227392
>So it is safe to assume that your people is ruled by a council with Wyyran as the head of the council.
>He's part Dark Elf?

>>1227410
Supporting

>"Mixed blood? He's part Dark Elf?"

>Writing

>>1227392
>handsome male childhood friend of the quest's only waifu

Will he die or cuck us, anons?

>>1227641
She's not the quest only waifu

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>>1227392

"Mixed blood? He's part Dark Elf?"

Galadon nods. "Yeah, half. On his mother's side. It's why many blame him for the Dark Elves on the plains nearby, even if most won't say it aloud." Being half Dark Elf would certainly explain his complexion,especially among all these light-skinned elves. Interesting.

"So, I assume that some people take umbrage at the fact that a half-dark elf is your... Fineri?"

"Yes, he had to deal with that his entire life. The ostracizing, not the hate for being Fineri." Galadon continues. Lord above, this man can talk. "And this is the Fineri's tower, the place they live until they die."

You look at him, surprised. "They are Fineri for life, and yet you say they aren't a king?"

Galadon looks somewhat uncomfortable. "Well... we don't like calling it that. ACTUAL royalty brings the Imperium Fulminata to mind, and, well, no one wants to remember them, the wounds are too fresh in some people's minds. The Lightning War only happened two hundred years ago, after all."

You start somewhat. This is the second time you have heard the Imperium Fulminata mentioned, and had the topic danced around. At least he name-dropped the Lightning War. You'll have to ask someone who isn't evasive on the subject, like these Wood Elves.

Entering the tall oak gates, which are already open, you find yourself in a pleasantly lit hall, decorated with red and gold. Following Cellica and Galadon, letting them chatter on, while you simply observe your surroundings, you eventually reach a throne room of sorts, with pillars everywhere, and an open patio behind the throne. Flanked on either side by braziers, sits Wyrran, lazily stretching out on the throne.

.... You expected a certain lack of decorum, but this is a bit more than you're used to, even with your father, who was considered incredibly laid-back. Looking around, you see Sigmund and his second standing nearby. Approaching Wyrran, you....

>(Bow, as is expected, when greeting royalty.)
>(Say hello.) "Greetings, Wyrran."
>"I wouldn't have taken you for a noble, much less a... Fineri."
>Write-in.

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>>1227641
Picture relevant.

>>1227675
>(Bow, as is expected, when greeting royalty.)
>I humbly offer my gratitude for accepting me and my men into your domain.

>>1227675
>(Bow, as is expected, when greeting royalty.)
I would like your help in freeing my brothers from those damn darkies

>>1227694
Supporting.

>(Bow, as is expected, when greeting royalty.)

>Writing

>>1227777
Shit, and
>I humbly offer my gratitude for accepting me and my men into your domain.

Forgot

>>1227675

You bow, as is expected of you, and say, "I humbly offer my gratitude for accepting me and my brothers into your domain." Wyrran looks mildly uncomfortable at this, and clears his throat.

"You don't really need to do that, you know. In fact, I think we'd all prefer it if you didn't bow. But you're welcome, anyways."

Standing up, you nod. "Very well."

Wyrran stands up, motioning to his open patio behind the throne. "Ser Sigmund, Ser Victor, might you come with me? I would wish for us to discuss strategy, for when we lead the assault on the slaver camp."

Moving forward, you look back at Cellica, and Galadon, who stand in place, not making any move to follow. Galadon you understand, but Cellica? She was involved as well, she should come.

>"What about Cellica? She was there in the camp, and saw more of it than I did."
>(Say nothing, go talk strategy.)
>"Cellica knows more of the camp than I do. Come on, Cellica."
>Write-in.

>>1227874
>"Cellica knows more of the camp than I do. Come on, Cellica."

>>1227874
>>"What about Cellica? She was there in the camp, and saw more of it than I did."

>>1227874
>>"What about Cellica? She was there in the camp, and saw more of it than I did."

>"What about Cellica? She was there in the camp, and saw more of it than I did."

>Writing

>>1227874

"What about Cellica? She was there in the camp, and saw more of it than I did."

Wyrran turns, surprised you'd say anything about that.

"My daughter? What about her?"

Wait.

What?

Turning to Cellica, you gape, surprised.

"Your... daughter?"

Wyrran nods, and narrows his eyes. "She never told you? Cellica...."

She squirms under the sudden attention. "I.... I just never thought it was important!"

Shaking his head, Wyrran sighs. "Cellica, you never thought it important to mention that you were the daughter of the single most important man in Mornaur?"

Cellica, embarrassed, says, ".... No?" Galadon is cracking up, clearly enjoying this. In response to this, she tries to stomp on his toes, but he doesn't stop laughing while he dodges her kicks.

>"I never would've guessed. She looks nothing like you."
>"But... she looks nothing like you!"
>"That might've been important. Can't say for sure, though."
>"Yeah, Cellica, why didn't you tell me?"
>Write-in.

>>1228048
>Laugh at her flustered state

>>1228068
Seconding.

>>1228048
>Move on for now, don't get distracted, deal with Wyrran
>Get annoyed at elf later

>>1228068
Just appreciate the humour of the moment

>>1228068
thsi

>>1228048
>Write-in.
Tease her, and give her a light spanking.

File: Spoiler Image (1.34 MB, 1280x720)

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>>1228101
l-lewd

>>1228110
And then we fuck her limbs off and attach hooks to the end to hoist her in her "love" dungeon.

File: 1392.gif (3.87 MB, 458x250)

3.87 MB GIF

>>1228117
AAAAAAAAAA

File: gross_no_thank_you_supern(...).gif (499 KB, 500x255)

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>>1228117

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>>1228130
Well, its what can make us all happy. Think about it.

>Laugh

>Writing

>>1228048

Cellica's red-faced embarrassment, her constant kicking at Galadon's toes, and Galadon's laughter, it's all too much. You let out a chuckle, and shake your head, and eventually, it becomes a full-fledged laugh. Cellica, hearing your laughs, gives you a pitiful look, as if saying, 'not you too', and hangs her head in shame.

Patting her shoulder, you wipe a tear from your eye.

"I.... needed that. Thank you, Cellica."

Cellica looks up at you, pouting slightly. "I'm not your personal entertainment, Victor!"

Raising an eyebrow, you say, "Oh? Then why are you being so funny?"

Cellica huffs and slaps your hand off her shoulder. "I'm not saying anything to you."

"But you just did."

She freezes, and you laugh again. Even Wyrran is grinning, at this point. "Come on, Cellica, we need to talk strategy," Wyrran says, beckoning.

Chuckling, you follow Cellica, who shoots you an embarrassed glare. On the patio, Sigmund and Wyrran wait. Smiling, the Fineri says, "Now that you're done embarrassing my daughter, let's get down to business. Tell us of the camp."

>Suggest a stealthy approach.
>Suggest a Blitzkrieg.
>Suggest drawing a battle line, and charging.
>Write-in.

>>1228221
What weapons / armor did we see they possess in the camp?

>>1228221
>>Suggest a Blitzkrieg.
other wise they might execute our men

>>1228232
They're scantily clad, yet they're stronger than normal, and have extremely sharp weapons.

>>1228221
>Suggest a complicated plan including a hidden cavalry contingent appearing in the middle of the camp that would have taken a tactical geniu-
>CREEEEEEEEEEEEED!
>Suggest a Blitzkrieg.
Hard and fast. Just like [Insert Innuendo]

>>1228221
We send in a stealth team first, try to get my brothers out. After we know if that's a success or failure we storm in.

>>1228221
>Have the Elf inflitrate the camp and run a distraction.
>Then we shall ride upon them with the fury of the Lord

>>1228238
Battle line, then. Shield wall > any formation that's not a shield wall.

>>1228246
Shield wall < heavy cav
Shield wall < arty
Shield wall < magic
Shield wall < guns
Shield wall < horse archers
Shield wall < giant spiders
Shield wall < FLAMING giant spiders

>>1228245
Switching to this begrudgingly.

>BLITZKRIEG

WE ARE THE KRIEGFUHRER

>>1228262
>Shield wall < FLAMING giant spiders


I'll give you that last one

>50/50 split

I'm not gonna roll for this one, it's too important.

>>1228273
I think FLAMING giant spiders beat everything.

>>1228308
I'll support Blitzkrieg, to break that tie. This is either going really badly or really well.
We aren't going to outstealth them, so our best bet is almost certainly to just go GAS GAS GAS

>BLITZKRIEG

>WRITING

>>1228240
>Hard and fast. Just like
Wilhelm of Ramla's conquest of Ascalon.

>>1228376
Wew. That sounds hot.

>>1228334
Wait, so we have flying things that can attack from above?

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>>1228221

Leaning on the stone wall, you say, "Well, their camp has only one thing going for them. It's hidden by hills. We can use that against them. I suggest a Blitzkrieg."

Sigmund starts, as you begin to explain what a Blitzkrieg is.

"Now, in German, it means Lightning War..."

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

After that, you were taken to an armory. Apparently, a human fighter, after the war with the Imperium Fulminata, gifted the suit of armor to Wyrran. It takes the work of an hour to color the tabard white, and even less to put on a black cross. The armor is mostly plate, strangely enough. You're not used to it, but you aren't complaining. The protections in battle it will offer are leaps ahead of your normal chainmail, and that's nothing to whinge about.

Galadon helps you put it on, strangely enough. His reason? He said he would help you put it on without agitating your burn wounds too much. And, surprisingly, it doesn't hurt too much, the way he puts it on. No offense to Edgar, but he doesn't have Galadon's natural grace, or healing hands.

Striding to a borrowed horse, you fall in, next to Sigmund and Wyrran, Cellica riding behind her father. Nodding as you approach, Wyrran says, "It fits you well. Now let's go."

Sigmund stares at your new armor. "It's amazing. Steel's of high quality, and it's ALL plate. Looks like something the Swedes would make. You know how their smiths are."

Nodding, you say nothing as you ride forth, with purpose.

Your men need you, and by God, you will save them.

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

It is evening when you reach the plains. Sun to your left, Wyrran gives the signal to his Elvish lancers and horse archers, and Sigmund, to his Teutons. Moving forward at a trot, you reach the rise, where, upon seeing the camp, raise your voice in a war cry, blessed by god, and feared by the unrighteous.

"DEUS LO VULT!"

With a throaty scream, your force charges down at the camp, which is rushing with shock, trying to form a skirmish group in front of the bonfire. In the matriarch's tent, an otherworldly blue glow emanates, and the sound of unholy chanting cuts across the battlefield. By the cages, a big man, the same one who knocked you out, holds a large studded club, and moves as if to slaughter the Brothers within.

Where will you send each group?

>Teutons
>Elves
>You and Cellica

To:

>Matriarch Laela's tent
>Center of the camp
>Cages

>>1228428
>>Teutons
To
>Center of the camp

>Elves
To
>Cages

>You and Cellica
To
>Matriarch Laela's tent

>>1228428
Where will you send each group?

>Teutons
To:
>Cages
>Elves
To:
>Center of the camp
>You and Cellica
To:
>Matriarch Laela's tent

>>1228448
Supporting.

>>1228451
This. It's only right that the Teutons free their brothers.

>>1228428
Elves to the blue glow, they might know how to counter magic.

Teutons to center of the camp, smash the skirmish line before it forms.

You and Cellica to the big man with a club. MINIBOSS FIGHT.

>>1228480
Actually, yeah. This. I know, I'm a flighty piece of shit. But let's let people who know that magic is a thing deal with the magic. I hadn't considered that.

>>1228451
This. The elves can take on the dark elves in open combat a lot easier than humans can. The Teutons can charge in and smash the the remaining dark elves after freeing the prisoners.

>>1228505
>elves can take on the dark elves in open combat a lot easier than humans can.

>implying dark elves can fight against our armored blitzkrieg

Sharp swords and sturdy shields will make short work of them.

>>1228510
Didn't Cellica show that elves at least have significantly faster reflexes than humans during the wild hunt? Something like that could cause considerable Teton losses.

Of course, elves to the blue glow is more important right now, so I'm changing my vote to that.

Okay it's pretty unanimous to send Teutons to center.

I think it's tied for cages and blue glow?

Counting is hard at 2:30 in the morning

Rolling

1 = Elves to glow, You to Cages

2 = You to glow, Elves to Cages

Rolled 2 (1d2)

>>1228553
fuck

Ooooooookay, I'm gonna call it here. More thread tomorrow EST. I'm getting loopy.

>>1228519
I think Cellica is just a lot better than she gives herself credit for.

>>1228563
If its not too late, I would have voted elves to blue glow, us+C to cages

>>1228665
I don't mind changing to this, so long as as the Panzer-knights charge the line.

well personally I think the mc should take the blue tent because of the plot Armour that mc and bosses get. imo if the elves go after that tent I get the feeling that OP will kill some of them off so the MC has to take the boss fight

> Teutons to Center
> Elves to Tent
> You to Cages

In regards to >>1228553 , I'm letting the votes take priority.

>Writing.

>>1229644
I figure she'd just escape after killing a bunch of elves.

she'd probably escape anyways, even if we fought her.

>>1229869
yeah your probably right I just don't want the eleven king to hope the tent and hear "heh nothin personal kid " and get blown to bits considering we just met the guy.

>>1229884
open*

>>1229887
Depends on how many times her blades are folded and if she wears unattractive headgear that she must constantly re-adjust when looking at people.

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>>1228428

Yelling to Sigmund, you say, "Break their line in the center! Rout them before they can form a threat!" Nodding, he leads his men in a charge, lances couched, at the scattered formation. "Wyrran! Take your elves, take out the Matriarch!" With not a word, the elves break away from the formation and turn on a dime, riding to the tent.

Looking at Cellica, you point at the big man with the club, and say, "We need to take him out, before he starts slaughtering the men!"

Charging at him, you swing your sword, but the man moves with surprising agility for one of his size, and ducks below your blade, swinging his club at you in retaliation. Catching it on your shield, you are nonetheless thrown off your horse, landing on your back, which causes you to hiss in pain.

Pushing yourself to your feet quickly, you drop into a guarded fighting stance, shield ready to catch any strikes aimed at you. The big man stands there, and slaps his belly armor, taunting you, waiting for you to make a move.

>Roll 2d20, for Victor and Cellica, BO3.
>>1229884
pic related.

Rolled 15, 10 = 25 (2d20)

>>1229971

Rolled 18, 14 = 32 (2d20)

>>1229971
Fight dirty, make them mad when they realize they are fighting "clean" in comparison.

Rolled 15, 8 = 23 (2d20)

>>1229971
no need to end it quickly

Rolled 2, 7 = 9 (2d20)

>>1229971
>>1230053

ledgethrow him! wait, we're on flat ground. push him into a fire or some spikes.

>18, 14

Welp, RIP Cellica. Wuz gud elfy.

>Writing.

>>1230150
Pls QM, not the elf

>>1230164
plenty more where she came from anon, we could even get a dark one if we want.

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>>1229971

Edging forward, you keep your shield up, and, lashing out with your sword carefully, testing his defenses, you manage to score a hit on his outer-left thigh, slashing through his leather trousers, causing him to roar in pain.

Swinging downward wildly with his club, he tries to brain you upside the head, but you're already gone, sidestepping to the left, hitting him with another light strike. Fortunately, you are hitting him consistently. Unfortunately, these strikes aren't doing much more than aggravate him.

Stepping towards you aggressively, the big man shoulder checks you, stunning you briefly, but you manage to get your wits about you, and headbutt him, ramming your helm against his tusked mask, cracking it, and causing him to stumble back, clutching his head with one hand.

Capitalizing on this, you deliver one good strike to his body before he recovers, lashing out with that spiked club of his, but you catch it on your shield. Lord above, it still hurts! The impact alone is enough to stagger you, and the man is about to follow through with another swing, when an arrow comes out of nowhere, striking him in the chest.

Cellica, riding circles around the man, shoots the man again, causing him to roar. Charging forward suddenly, and with a speed that you wouldn't have expected, the man throws you aside, running towards Cellica. Eyes wide, she tries to turn her horse in time, but she's not fast enough.

Grabbing her horse by the head, the man snaps the mare's neck, and she dies with a scream. Standing up, you see him fling Cellica off her now-dead horse, slamming her into the dirt. He laughs evilly with a deep, bass voice, and strides slowly towards the downed elf.

>Body check the man.
>Block him with your shield.
>Charge and strike him.
>Write-in.

>1d20, BO3.

Rolled 13 (1d20)

>>1230266
>Write-in.
Slash his hamstring, it will bring him down to his knees, then stab into the neck area.

Rolled 4 (1d20)

>>1230276
Supporting.

Rolled 15 (1d20)

>>1230276
This. Failing that, sever the femoral artery and just get him via attrition.

>>1230276
Just to clarify, I mean to slash both of the rear of his legs.

We could try for a stab in his genitalia region.

Front is to make salami cold cuts
rear is to sheath the sword.

>>1230276

>15
>Writing

Eating, next post will be delayed a bit.

>>1230219
>Wanting the dark elf who tortured you and your men to a bloody mess

>>1230519
>Not wanting to hatefuck a Drow into submission. Not turning her into a living sextoy that loves it.

>>>/d/7280589
drow cyoa game

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>>1230266

Running at the man, you sprint towards him, trying to get there before he can do anything.

As he raises his club, preparing to slam it down onto Cellica's face, you strike, slashing across the back of his legs. You don't manage to hit the hamstring on the right leg, but you cut deep into the left, causing him to drop to a knee, growling.

Whipping around, he swings his club at your head, but you duck, and swing at him, but he manages to block it with his club, and punches you in the shoulder, where the chainmail is exposed, and it bites into your flesh, causing you to shout with pain.

Backing off warily, you see that Cellica has gotten to her feet, and has pulled out two elegant-looking long knives, (pic relevant,) and edges closer to the man, trying to find an opening. The man in question struggles to stand, leaning heavily on his club, injured, but dangerous, like a wounded bear.

>Choose a tactic, roll 2d20, BO3

>You tank until Cellica can get a killing blow.
>You attack at the same time, trying to overwhelm him.
>Cellica distracts him until you can get a killing blow.
>Write-in.

>>1230619
>Write-in: Send Cellica to free the men,while we tank him
He's wounded, we just need to keep him at bay till blood loss takes its toll. We're here for the men, not revenge

>>1230626
Seconded

Rolled 9, 20 = 29 (2d20)

>>1230626
yeah

Rolled 15, 6 = 21 (2d20)

>>1230626
didn't roll, sorry

>>1230626
He's a big man with a small wound mate. It's gonna take a while. Better we finish this quick.

Rolled 3 (1d20)

>>1230619
>You attack at the same time, trying to overwhelm him.

Rolled 16, 20 = 36 (2d20)

>>1230679
Whoops wrong dice

Rolled 6, 6 = 12 (2d20)

>>1230619
>You attack at the same time, trying to overwhelm him.

>>1230619
>You attack at the same time, trying to overwhelm him.

Rolled 2 (1d2)

Rolling.

1 = Cellica frees men, you tank

2 = Tag team.

>>1230757

>15, 20

>Writing.

>>1230763
Not 16, 20 from>>1230695?

>>1230768
Well, second roll is for Cellica. So only thing that changes is Victor's roll.

>16,20

>>1230619

Nodding at Cellica, you both approach the man at the same time, guarded, ready for anything.

At your approach, he growls, and starts edging backwards, but he readies his club, focusing on you, the big man in plated armor.

When you get within striking distance, you strike with your sword, and he parries, thrusting the club's head at your chest. Catching it on your shield, you back off, and that's when Cellica attacks.

Staying low, she comes in from his left side, and lashing out with her daggers, cuts the tendons in his arm at the elbow, and shoves her other dagger into his armpit. When he flails out with his arm wildly, she ducks, and grabbing his arm, and holding it in place, cuts it off with her incredibly sharp knife.

Dropping the now-severed arm, Cellica doesn't stop there. Grabbing the other arm, so he can't move, she gives him similar treatment with this arm, lopping it off at the shoulder. Before he can even react, she shoves a knife into his throat, and twisting, wrenches a bloody, meaty hole that you can see through in his neck.

Pulling out her dagger, Cellica puts her knives up against the man's neck, and chops off his head, blood spraying everywhere from the open wound. Kicking the body to the ground, Cellica breathes heavily.

Drenched in blood from head to toe, panting, she turns her head with a worried look on her face.

"I saw him hit you a couple times, are you okay?"

>"Uhhh.... yeah."
>"That was amazing."
>"I'm fine. Let's go free my brothers."
>Write-in.

>>1230841
>>"I'm fine, but I'm sorry about your horse, Cellica. We can mourn later, but now let's go free my brothers."

>>1230841
>"That was amazing."

>>1230841
>Remind me not to get on your bad side.
>Sorry about your horse. C'mon we still have a battle to win.

>>1230849
>>1230855
Let's not bring up the raw deal her horse got in the middle of battle, yeah?

>>1230841
>>"I'm fine. Let's go free my brothers."

>>1230881
She didn't butcher that guy for fun, the horse is clearly on her mind. She's an emotional girl, and we need to direct that emotion toward a goal, rather than ignoring it.

>>1230841
>"I'm fine. Let's go free my brothers."
RIP in piece Solana. I forget whether that was a special elf horse or not.

>>1230890
Pretty sure she butchered that guy because she had a 20, but alright.

>>1230897
Nah, she was sad about her horse. It WAS a gift from her dad, after all.

She did butcher him more effectively because she did get a 20, however.

>>1230895
It was a gift from her father, I think.
>>1230897
I don't know enough about QM's style to judge which of us is right, so i respect your opinion

>>1230911
Ditto. Especially since QM just confirmed that both of us are kinda right, kek.

>"I'm fine. Let's go free my brothers."

>Writing.

>>1230841

You nod. "I'm fine. Let's go free my brothers."

Cellica nods, determined. Both of you moving to a separate cage, you each start working on the locks, in different ways. Cellica picks the locks, working through the padlock with a frown borne of concentration and anger. You, however, have a different method.

Picking up the now-dead man's club, you sheathe your sword, and hefting the heavy weapon, swing it down on the lock.

The poor lock didn't stand a chance.

With the screeching of bending metal, the lock is sheared off the cage, falling to the dusty ground. Dropping the club, you throw the door open, and look at your brothers. They're staring at you with grateful eyes, and awe. Raising your voice, you say, "Anyone who can walk, help those that can't to the horses. Find your horse, and then get out of here. Wait just inside the treeline. We'll get you after the battle is won."

Nearby, Cellica opens the door to her cage, and you see her look to you for instruction. "Get on another cage, I'll tell these men what to do."

Nodding brusquely, she jogs over to another cage. Giving the men their orders, and pointing them in the direction of their comrades who are already headed to the horses, you look to the center of the camp. The dark elves are routing, and your brothers are chasing them out of the camp, and securing the horse pen. Good. That only leaves the Matriarch's tent.

Looking at the tent, you see Elves riding their horses around the tent in a circle, periodically shooting arrows inside, whenever they catch a glimpse of... whatever they're fighting inside, through the increasingly tattered material. The screams and sounds of combat coming from within are unlike any you've ever heard before.

Anyways.

Moving to the fourth and final cage, you leverage the door open, telling the men their orders, and moving to Cellica, who had already finished with her cage. She looks to you, frowning.

"Victor, what do we do now?"

Thinking on this, you take a deep breath, and say,

>"We guard my Brothers at the horse pens. We can't let them go undefended."
>"We check the tents in the center of the camp. See if there are any dark elves remaining."
>"We go to the Matriarch's tent. Whatever's going on, they need our help."
>Write-in.

>>1231017
>>"We go to the Matriarch's tent. Whatever's going on, they need our help."

>>1231017
>>"We go to the Matriarch's tent. Whatever's going on, they need our help."

>>1231017
>>"You guard my Brothers at the horse pens. We can't let them go undefended."
>"I check the tents in the center of the camp. See if there are any dark elves remaining."

>>1231017
>"We guard my Brothers at the horse pens. We can't let them go undefended."
Boring, but practical.

>>1231017
>>"We go to the Matriarch's tent. Whatever's going on, they need our help."
Pretty clear they need the help. Any elves still in the tents aren't a major threat and I would expect 70 Teuton crusaders to be able to look after themselves even post torture.

Also
>Direct our men to arm themselves
>if there are enough that look to be in fighting condition ... Tell a halfdozen or do to clear the tents

>"We go to the Matriarch's tent. Whatever's going on, they need our help."

>Writing.

>>1231017
>Write-in.
We burn her tent down, ideally with her in it.

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>>1231017

"We go to the Matriarch's tent. Whatever's going on, they need our help." Nodding, Cellica starts to jog off towards the tent.

Sighing, and taking a deep breath, you crack your neck and follow.

Jogging through the camp, you stay wary for any remaining enemies, but you find none. Passing the bonfire, where the corpses of many dark elves lay thick on the ground, the dusty, hard-packed dirt stained with their blood.

As you near the matriarch's tent, the unholy sounds grow louder, and Cellica slows down, so you can catch up.

"What's the plan?" Cellica looks at you, questioningly.

Unsheathing your sword, you say, "We go in, and see whatever's inside, and kill it, if necessary."

Nodding, Cellica simply unsheathes her long knives, and strides forward, pushing aside the tent flap. Following, you enter, and look on one of the most profoundly disturbing things that you will ever see.

A monster of many mouths floats in the center of the tent, lashing out at the elves that draw near, and breathing blue flame out of its many mouths. There are bodies all around you, yet most of them are dark elves, naked and desiccated. A ghostly blue cloud comes from their mouths, leading into the maws of the beast. The Wood Elves, led by Wyrran, fight bravely, but they're growing weary, and their casualties are mounting by the minute.

What do you do?

>Roll 2d20, BO3

>Charge in, trying to kill the beast.
>Go to Wyrran, try and form a plan.
>Guard Cellica while she shoots it with her bow.
>Write-in.

Rolled 18, 6 = 24 (2d20)

>>1231244
>Torch the bodies
It's obviously feeding the creature

Rolled 8, 5 = 13 (2d20)

>>1231244
>Go to Wyrran, try and form a plan.

Rolled 14, 3 = 17 (2d20)

>>1231253
Supporting

Rolled 4, 1 = 5 (2d20)

>>1231244
This >>1231253

>>1231253
>>1231259
>>1231265
Do we have anything to torch the bodies? Also, thank THE LORD that 1 was out of range.

>>1231268
Yeah apologies on that one there
and i think we can run out to the bonfire and get a flaming log

>>1231268
I'm pretty sure the camp has a few campfire and torches.

>Torch the bodies.

>18, 6.

>Writing.

>>1231244

"C'mon, we need to burn the bodies! They're... feeding the monster, or something!"

Nodding, Cellica springs into action, grabbing a brazier. "Got it!"

Getting a torch from a holder on a tentpole, you two run from body to body, igniting the desiccated corpses. They burn surprisingly easily, and you have to do little more than touch the torch to the body and then move on.

Cellica, however, chooses a different strategy. Running along, she shakes out the burning coals along the piled bodies of naked dark elves, until she runs out of coals. Throwing the brazier to the ground, she draws her bow, and starts shooting at the beast in the center of the tent.

Unfortunately, this draws the beast's attention, and the beast lets out a shriek, and lets loose a blast of flame from a maw on its' hand. Unable to dodge in time, Cellica takes the blast on her left side, letting out a cry of pain as she falls.

Letting out a shout, you run to her side, and when the beast throws flame at you, you block it with your shield. Crouching behind Cellica, shield her while looking down at her. She whimpers in pain.

The burn is nasty. It covers her entire left arm, and goes along the left side of her chest, marking her shoulder. She tries to say something, but you can't hear it over the sounds of battle and the screaming of the beast.

>"Cellica, stay with me. I'm going to pick you up."
>"Cellica, I'm going to move you, and then kill this monster, okay? Stay strong for me."
>"I'm sorry for this." (Knock her out, and pick her up.)
>"Sorry." (Knock her out, and move her away.)
>Write-in.

>>1231544
>"Cellica, stay with me. I'm going to pick you up."

>>1231544
>"Sorry." (Drag her away.)

>>1231272
I'll give you my flaming log.

It seems that the thread is slowing down, I'm gonna call it here. Open voting, yadda yadda yadda. Thread on Monday EST.

>>1231544
>"Cellica, I'm going to move you, and then kill this monster, okay? Stay strong for me."

>>1231544
>"Cellica, I'm going to move you, and then kill this monster, okay? Stay strong for me."

Protect the waifu

>>1231544
>"Sorry." (Knock her out, and move her away.)
If we are going to talk the time to stop and talk, we may as well call the drow a ugly mofo and we are glad to have decided to ditch her for a better race of elves.

That should get her attention.

>>1231544
>"Cellica, I'm going to move you, and then kill this monster, okay? Stay strong for me."

>>1231683
>>1232990
Changing to this.

>>1233193
I'd like to clarify, I'm not too keen on the knocking her out part, and wouldn't mind if it was removed.

>>1233226
All right, we can just move her without talking.

>>1233303
Well if you want her twitchy with a lil brain damage, I can understand, but i doubt she'll be very good at riding the stallions pony after.

>>1233303
I just want to protect my waifu. :(

>>1231544
I don't care what we do as long as we don't knock her out ... death/brain damage is a whole lot more likely that pop culture would have you believe.
>>"Cellica, stay with me. I'm going to pick you up."

>>1233193
>>1231683
Changing back to this. :(

>"Cellica, I'm going to move you, and then kill this monster, okay? Stay strong for me."

>Writing.

>>1231544

"Cellica, I'm going to move you, and then kill this monster, okay? Stay strong for me."

Unfortunately, Cellica isn't able to respond, only able to moan in pain. Fortunately, she seems to be responsive to your voice, quivering when you call out.

Picking her up, careful of her side, you duck a blast of blue flame, and start running towards the entrance of the tent, managing to avoid blasts of the fire that burned Cellica.

Pushing the tentflap aside, you lay the elf down gently, and say, "I'll be back, okay?" Turning around, you rush towards the beast, joining the elves in combat.

Wyrran looks at you with a flash of surprise and anger. "Why the hell are you here instead of- no. We'll have words later." By the dark look in his eyes, you would rather face the beast in front of you than have that conversation.

Looking up at the beast, you sidestep a pillar of fire, and look around the battle, to try and get a handle on the situation. The bodies have been turned to ash, their forms having burned exceptionally quickly. The beast, however, has not showed any perceptible change in ability, although you might be a bit distracted by the flames rushing towards your head. The elves took a few casualties, but they're still an able fighting force, with their not-king at the lead.

You have several options. Take down the tent, and make the beast easier to hit with the elven horse archers' arrows, fight the beast, and draw her(?) attention to you, or hang back and try and get in a few good shots.


>Roll 1d20, BO3

>Take down the tent.
>Tank the beast.
>Hang back, look for an opening.

Rolled 11 (1d20)

>>1238665
>Tank the beast.
Fuck it, let's go.

>>1238665
>Tank the beast.

All this full plate

Rolled 1 (1d20)

>>1238705

Forgot these

>>1238721
RIP Victor.

>>1238665
>tank the beast

>>1238729

Should have just kept right on forgetting

>>1238730
Attempting to roll dice

>>1238730
>>1238743
You've got this, anon. I believe in you.

Rolled 6 (1d20)

>>1238743
I feel like a fucking idiot

>Tank it.
>1

Well, looks like you'll get cute matching burn wounds with Cellica. Adorable.

>Writing.

File: 85f4902a77f0fc617c1e3cfc2(...).jpg (154 KB, 736x490)

154 KB JPG

>>1238665

You decide to draw the beast's attention, away from anyone else. You can't let it take any more of your allies. Charging forward, you slash at its' flank, gouging deep into its leg, slashing across a maw.

The beast doesn't bleed. Rather, it oozes a black ichor. Screeching in pain, she(?) lashes out with a claw, catching your head, rending the metal of your helmet.

Tearing the helmet off, you feel blood seeping down your forehead. Blocking another swipe of the claw with your shield, which splinters under the blow, you stab it in one of its' mouths, but it doesn't appear to do much damage.

Clamping down with the mouth, the beast bites your sword, holding it in place. Struggling to pull it out, you duck a swipe from one of the beasts' arms, and let go of the sword. Stepping back, you hold your shield out, warding from any strikes that might come.

Unfortunately, you didn't account for the fire, and she uses it at the worst possible time.

Blasting at your legs, the beast forces you to shift your guard, lowering your shield to block it. Unfortunately, the giant mouth in her(?) torso grins toothily, and, as if in slow motion, you see a blue flame burning forth.

You try to raise your shield, but you're not able to get it up in time, and with a sweltering heat, and a flash of tremendous pain, you fall backwards, fire lapping hungrily at your flesh. As you black out, you see the beast reach towards you, trying to grab you, but Wyrran steps over you, slicing off its' hand.

Screeching in pain, it has but a second to register what happened, before, with a series of violent, hacking strikes, Wyrran chops off its heads. Looking towards you with a savage glare, Wyrran says, "Looks like we'll have to postpone that talk." Touching your forehead, Wyrran grimaces, and you feel a cooling feeling spread through your body. "Sleep."

And so you do.

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

......

This bed is familiar.

Looking up, you groan. You're back in Mornaur. The same hospital room, the same aching feeling after getting burned.

It doesn't seem that anyone is in the room- you hear soft footsteps along the stone walkway outside your room. You hear the person enter the room, and they stand just outside of your sight, as if hesitating.

>"Is Cellica alright?"
>"Did my men get out?"
>"Who's there?"
>Write-in.

>>1238967
>Did my men get out?

>>1238967
>"Did my men get out?"
>"Is Cellica alright?"
I'm hesitant to ask that second one, though, given Wyrran.

>>1238967
>Write-in.
"Oh Lord I really need to get back to camp."

>>1238967
>"Is Cellica alright?"
>"Did my men get out?"

>"Did my men get out?"
>"Is Cellica alright?"

>Writing

>>1238967

"Did my men cough- Did my men get out? Is Cellica alright?"

The footsteps come closer, and you hear a soft voice.

"Yes... they're here. Cellica is-" The voice catches, but then composes itself. "Cellica was hurt badly, but she's fine, after we did a bit of work." Looking up, you see Galadon. The raven-haired elf gestures to the bandages around your chest, and your unbandaged face.

"You were... Significantly more wounded. I couldn't do anything to help, actually. I had to get my master. And even then, she was exhausted after healing you." Galadon hesitates after this.

"She's old... even by our standards. I hope you appreciate what she did for you." Nodding you lean back, exhausted.

"So... where are my men?"

Galadon motions to somewhere outside. "They're with Sigmund. He's the only leader they had after you..." Galdon winces at a memory, "After you got cooked. You're not having much luck with fire, are you?"

Letting out a coughing laugh, you say, "I suppose not. And Cellica?"

"In her father's tower. Wyrran is looking after her, now that I've healed her wounds. She...." Galadon looks like he's about to say something, but he decides not to. "Anyways. Wyrran wants to see you as soon as possible. It's... good to see you up and about. Bye."

Galadon leaves, as quietly as he came. Sighing, you look up at the ceiling, staring at the motes of dust that lazily trail through the air.

What do you want to do?

>Find your men.
>Find Gunnar.
>Talk to Wyrran.
>Look for Cellica.

>>1239149
>find and talk to the men

>>1239149
>Talk to Wyrran.

As soon as possible.

>>1239149
>Find your men
Literally the first priority. If Wyrran wants to bitch at us, he's gonna have to wait.

>Find your men.

>Writing.

>>1239149

Your men. That's the first priority. You have to make sure they're okay.

Swinging your feet over the side of the bed, groaning, you stand up. You... are beaten to hell. The treatment that you've received in the last week has not been conducive to your long-term health.

Pulling your boots on, you throw on a white tunic that was laid at the end of your bed, and walk out of the room.

Wincing at the bright sunlight, you walk around the hospital, looking for any sign of your men. Unfortunately, you can't find any sign of them from here.

Tapping on a passing elf's shoulder, you ask, "Ah, sorry to bother you, but could you tell me where the knights are?"

The elf looks at you, face pleasantly neutral, and points you towards the tower. "Certainly. They're camped outside the tower."

Nodding, you give him a little wave as you walk off with purpose. "Many thanks."

The elf smiles politely and walks off, and you go your separate ways.

Walking through the city, along a familiar path, you begin to notice something. The elves are looking at you oddly, but they're too polite to be overt about it, so you couldn't ask them without being rude. Oh well.

Reaching the tower, you look around the courtyard, and, like the elf said they would be, your men are there, resting. As you approach, they start murmuring, and standing up, but none of them approach but Sigmund, who claps his hands on your shoulder, smiling.

"Victor! You're up! You know, we really must stop meeting like this." Flashing him a weary grin, you quirk a questioning eyebrow at that last statement. "Me greeting you after you've been horrendously injured, I mean."

Shaking your head, you chuckle, and say, "It's good to see you too, Sigmund..."

>"... How are the men?"
>"... How did the battle go?"
>"... How long have I been out?"
>Write-in.

>>1239458
>"... How are the men?"
>"... How did the battle go?"

>>1239458
>"... How are the men?"
>"... How did the battle go?"
>Write-in.

If you'll excuse me I needed to make sure you all were safe again, but I have an urgent meeting with the leader here.

>>1239458
>"... How are the men?"
>"... How did the battle go?"

>"... How are the men?"
>"... How did the battle go?"

>Writing.

>>1239458

"... How are the men? How did the battle go?"

Sigmund gestures towards the men. "They're fine, if a bit roughed up. We took relatively few casualties in the battle, and most of your and Berthold- well, the men who were under Berthold's command are alright. You're the one that took the most damage in that fight out of anyone, getting burned like that. You sure you should be up and about?"

Nodding, you say, "Well, I made it here, didn't I?"

Sigmund laughs, patting your back. "True enough! Anyways, we killed a good bit of those 'dark elves', drove 'em off. It was a slaughter on their part. Seems like that they can't hold up in honest combat, they have to skulk and ambush like bandits."

Gesturing to your wounds, he says, "After you got burned, Wyrran took you and that girl of his, Cellica, back here, and we sacked the camp and burned it to the ground. Made out with a good amount of loot, from their ill-gotten-gains, no doubt. The elves took some strange-looking books, and pagan idols, said they were too dangerous, or something. We weren't in the mood to argue, after seeing the body of the... thing in the big tent."

Smiling, you say, "Well, it sounds like the Lord blessed us."

"That he did, my friend, that he did. Do you want to break fast with us? We're having a late morning meal today, you're just in time."

Shaking your head, you say, "Maybe later, Sigmund. I've got to speak with Wyrran. Said he needed to see me as soon as possible."

Patting your back one last time, Sigmund waves you off. "Well, don't let me keep you! I'll see you later!"

Waving, you walk to the tower, and push open the door.

Time to get this over with.

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

Thanks for playing!

Next thread, SMercs, or FCQ should be Friday or Saturday EST.

>>1239788

Thanks for running, looking forward to the next one