>>2774313
>> Go all out, you need to wrap this up before you reveal anything else.

>>2774313
>> Go all out, you need to wrap this up before you reveal anything else.

>>2774313
> Go all out, you need to wrap this up before you reveal anything else.

>>2774313
>Go all out, you need to wrap this up before you reveal anything else.
>I'll count a good strike as first blood

>>2774445
>>2774436
>>2774337
>>2774327

All out it is.

> Roll me three 1d100+5's please

First DC: 50, Second DC: 90

Rolled 54 + 5 (1d100 + 5)

>>2774552

Rolled 37 + 5 (1d100 + 5)

>>2774552

Rolled 46 + 5 (1d100 + 5)

>>2774552

>>2774560

That's a 59, Partial Success.

> Roll me three 1d100+5's please

Rolled 79 + 5 (1d100 + 5)

>>2774632
what's the +5 mod for and where's the character sheet?

Rolled 66, 76, 18, 53, 39, 24 + 2 = 278 (6d100 + 2)

>>2774632

[LAURA ACTIVITY]

Rolled 85 + 5 (1d100 + 5)

>>2774632

Rolled 84 + 5 (1d100 + 5)

>>2774632

>>2774634

+5 is from Morgan's Greatsword Fighting Skill.

Char sheet is here: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1r8k-KzoKSenfcBog5ZFbhGdCtWRODemEzc0OhYUu4ok/edit?usp=sharing

>>2774644

That's a 90 versus 68, Success.

Writin'

>>2774738
You'd think after all he's been through it'd be higher than a 5. Isn't a 5 an adept?

>>2774313

Thinking through things, you frown when you come to the realization that you're not going to be able to win this with half-hearted attacks. Laura's too good to go easy on, but you're no where near familiar enough to be comfortable with cutting loose on her. You're here to train the girl, not cripple her, after all.

With your mind made up, you begin slowly circling around the young woman. Focusing entirely on how she's moving in response, you wait for the moment where she's forced to shuffle her stance to keep you in front of her to activate your magic. The highest strength illusion you can form smoothly comes into existence right as you vanish from sight, carefully measuring your steps to avoid giving yourself away as the fake continues on the same path that you were just a moment ago. You're in the middle of considering how you want to about this when Laura makes up her mind first, tensing her legs to launch herself at your double. Sliding into the girl's blind-spot, you wait for her to break the illusion before striking.

That bastard sword easily carves right through the faux image, dispelling it immediately. You catch the look of surprise on the gal's face, though it doesn't last long as you stab forwards with your claymore. It's not meant to truly wound, a fine line to run when a flick of your wrist could send the blade right through the center of her skull, but the graze catches just enough of her cheek to cut it open.

There's a split second of shock that hits her before she jumps away again. A faint hue of paleness pervades her complexion as she notes you sliding your sword back into its sheath at your side and brings a hand to her face, staring at the dots of crimson that now mar her fingers.

"A-a..." Looking between you, her hand, and her own sword, Laura just looks absolutely dumbfounded, "H-How?"

Dismissing your shield with a thought, resisting the urge to wince at the sound of metal warping and crunching back into the shape of a gauntlet, you just chuckle a bit as you walk over, "You didn't think I was just a big bastard with a sword, did ya? I've got a few tricks and maybe you'll figure 'em out eventually."

Of all the responses you were expecting, a full on pout wasn't in your mind.Turning away from you, Laura wraps her bastard sword back up before slinging it over her shoulder once more.

Guess she ain't too happy about losing. Well, at least she doesn't take defeats lying down, which is rather good trait.

Now what?
> Continue training Laura (technique, strength, or speed?)
> Head back to Calbourne Fortress (market, Adventurer's Guild, or Armory?)
> Head back East, continue hunting hobgoblins.
> Other

I gotta run for tonight. I'll be around to run after work tomorrow, so take the time to figure out what you want to do for the day.

>>2774874

You're right, Morgan's at a +10 right now. My mistake, though it didn't matter this time.

>>2774923
It's always got to matter. It's like his achievement in life and you gotta wear it like a badge.

>>2774920
I want to head back to the market to buy necessities

>>2774920
> Head back to Calbourne Fortress (market, Adventurer's Guild, or Armory?)
Its been so long in the hyperbolic time chamber training Laura that we need to reorient ourselves. Heading back into town to unwind, relax, and get our bearings should help with that.

>>2774920
>> Head back to Calbourne Fortress
>Adventurer's Guild

>>2774923
Last Thread
>Then I think we should buy some more rations and food, then find a whetstone, maybe even a Smith.
A Smith or a whet stone (whet stone if Smith is not needed) to sharpen our stabby stick which is to say Morgan's Claymore and some water to fill our water skins. Bandages and other medical supplies too, maybe even a visit to the local doctor on helpful tidbits on how not to a disease ridden peasant. Our sidekick may have a natural regenerative ability (I think) but Morgan doesn't (yet).

What time is it in setting?

>>2774920
>Headpat Apprentice
> Head back to Calbourne Fortress (market, Adventurer's Guild, or Armory?)
this>>2775986

>>2775986

The sun's beginning to set at this point.

>>2775571
>>2775986
>>2779297

Head back into the city and check out the market it is.

Writin'

File: CalbourneFortress_Centers(...).png (490 KB, 675x372)

490 KB PNG

>>2774920

Attempting to resist, and failing, to chuckle again at the look firmly planted on Laura's face, you motion for the young woman to follow you as you walk back towards the fortress. She lets out a quiet huff, but falls in line with you nonetheless.

The area around you is getting darker, a sure sign that dusk is beginning, as you backtrack through the rough hills. You keep your eyes open and your head on a swivel, wary of the threat of hobgoblins in the shadows, but thankfully your journey is made unmolested.

There's a bit of a wait when you make it to the gate, as you wait behind another caravan undergoing inspection. There's a twinge of impatience as you stand there, glancing between the guard performing the check and the sun lowering off on the horizon as you remember Calbourne Fortress' curfew that's rapidly approaching, but you force yourself still as the minutes tick by.

Finally being allowed to enter the city, you immediately turn for the marketplace. While you're not planning to head back to that merchant's tent, you are still in need of purchasing more supplies. You can survive a lot and endure even more, but an empty stomach is still an empty stomach. Due to the late hour, the pickings here are sparse, though you do note the more necessary shops and tents are still going strong.

Taking a look around, you catch a few good deals being offered and consider them against the coins in your pocket.

In Inventory:
> 34 Silver Coins
> 1 Ration Pack
> 5 Bandages
> 1 Canteen
> 1 Claymore

For Sale:
> Ration Packs, Five (5) Copper Coins each
> Simple Bandages, Two (2) Copper Coins per roll
> Spare Clothing, Twenty (20) Copper Coins for a set
> Water Canteen (empty), Ten (10) Copper Coins each
> Whetstone, One (1) Copper Coin each

What would you like to buy? (exchange rate is 1:100)
> Write-in

>>2783792
20 ration packs, 10 bandages, 1 water canteen, 1 Wheatstone.

>>2783792
>20 rations
>whetstone
>two spare clothing
>one canteen

tallies: 1 silver 51 copper

>>2783792
> Ration Packs, Five (5) Copper Coins each
10 ration backs

> Simple Bandages, Two (2) Copper Coins per roll
5 more bandages

> Spare Clothing, Twenty (20) Copper Coins for a set
2 more clean sets

> Water Canteen (empty), Ten (10) Copper Coins each
4 more canteens. need to find ourselves a well.

> Whetstone, One (1) Copper Coin each
Yes. 1.

>>2783792
what are the copper to silver conversions?

>>2783792
and how many sippies a day can we get out from a single canteen?

I expect Laura to learn how to be a big girl and learn how to buy her own stuff.

>>2783961

While traveling, I'd say that Morgan would go through a full canteen every two days.


To help simplify things, I'll call one more vote:
> >>2783895
> >>2783897
> >>2783955
> Other

>>2784006
what about Silver -> Copper ratio?

>>2784037

1:100

>>2784006
>>2783955
I'll go for this one. Rather have more water than less

Anyone remember that dagger the chaos demon gave us? Anyone else suspect Morgan needs to stab himself or apply some of his blood to the dagger?

>>2784075
Are Whetstones single or multiple uses?

>>2784142

Hyancia's a dragon, for one, and you'll just have to find out how to use the dagger.

Multiple usages for Whetstones.

>>2783955
>>2784111

10 rations, 5 bandages, 2 sets of spare clothing, 4 water canteens, and 1 whetstone it is.

Writin'

>>2783792

Stopping by the equivalent of a general store, you waste no time at all gathering up more supplies after looking at just how diminished yours are. Even with your rationing, you don't want to run the risk of running out between cities. In addition, you decide on grabbing a pair of spare clothes. As good as the armor you're wearing is, odds are high that you'll want to be inconspicuous at some point in the future and the questionably demonic metal you're wrapped in is anything but.

A few quick words with the lady working the counter get you, who gathers together your purchases with only a glance and even gives you change without complaint. Pushing them into your pack, you walk back out into the darkening streets.

Walking back towards the marketplace, you consider the degrading condition of your claymore and note a smith about to close up his shop. He doesn't look particularly happy with your interruption, but he tosses you a whetstone in exchange for a copper coin.

> You have obtained:
> 10 Ration Packs
> 5 Bandages
> 2 Sets of Spare Clothing
> 4 Water Canteens (empty)
> 1 Whetstone

> You have lost: 1 Silver, 41 Copper!

With you supplies properly secured, you look up to see that the rest of the crowd is beginning to disperse. You've probably only got a few minutes before the curfew is active, but on the plus size it makes it rather easy to find Laura who has been busy eating some kind of treat from one of the nearby shops.

The young girl back in tow, you consider what to do for the night.
> Go get a room at a local inn.
> Go camp outside the city again.
> Go camp outside the city again, and try to use the dagger Hyancia gave you.
> Other

>>2784385
How much for a trained mount (horses, donkeys, other???)?

>>2784385
> Go camp outside the city again, and try to use the dagger Hyancia gave you.
What did the big girl buy with her earnings?

>>2784385
>> Go get a room at a local inn.

Live in Style

>>2784414
Supporting

>>2784385
> Go camp outside the city again, and try to use the dagger Hyancia gave you.
Its not raining and we got a little fluffy plushie to keep us warm.

>>2784410

Morgan doesn't know how to properly ride a mount; he was almost exclusively trained in melee combat and infantry roles rather than Calvary after all.

>>2784703
>>2784644
>>2784414

Out and dagger it is.

Writin'

>>2784762
I guess Morgan can be his own Pack mount. Everyday will be leg day.

>>2784773
Get a mule and a wagon?

File: 1529384547781.jpg (30 KB, 351x351)

30 KB JPG

>>2784788
you're a fucking genius.

>>2784792
now who will be the workhorse Morgan or bunnigurl?
It be alot funnier to see a big bulky guy being pulled around in a wagon while a small lithe girl pulls it.

>>2784807
I'd like to imagine Laura sitting in back with the pet mule as Morgan pulls the cart.

>>2784816
But Morgan pulling the cart is sooo cliche.

>>2784385

Considering just how much coin you've got on hand, at least relatively, it would be rather simple to just grab an inn for the night. The prospect of having a better bed than the dirt is tempting, but you eventually decide on just leaving the fortress and walking back to your campsite from the night before.

After all, you've got half a mind to try out the dagger Hyancia gave to you, just to see if he was fucking with you or not.

Laura doesn't voice any complaints about the sleeping arrangements if she's got any. She hardly says a word when you arrive, instead deciding to curl up around her bastard sword and go out like a lantern.

Performing your usual routine of lightly trapping your surroundings, you settle down just so that you're blocking your left side from the young lady. Despite being fast asleep, you don't want to take any chances especially with her existing suspicion of you.

Reaching into your pack, you pull the strange weapon out of it and run your fingers over it. You marvel again at the oddity within your grip, at how the composition of the weapon seems to twist inwardly upon itself. For a moment, you consider just how you're supposed to be using this thing, as the Dragon in question didn't exactly give you an instruction on how to use it, when you're suddenly overcome with a wave of drowsiness.

Stiffing the urge to loudly yaw, you instead push the grip of the dagger into your left hand and close your eyes. Almost immediately your eyes roll back and your consciousness fades. The darkness takes hold for several seconds, both an eternity and an instant, before it ends.

The phantom pain of flames licks at you, scorching away at the skin between segments of your ruined armor while it heats the metal entombing you, threatening to cook you alive. Forcing your gaze upwards, you see the barest outline of that thing, that horrific thing looming over you as the world around you burns away. It's here. The Prince of the Nine Hells that you were responsible for slaying all those years ago in the broken remains of Saint Peter's Keep; and it's biting at the bit for round 2.

And then it's gone, pulled away by a swarm of lesser demons without number. Images flash past you, of monsters and men, of ruined and scorched masonry and it's complete counter parts, of divisions of soldiers and legions of hell-spawn.

They all come together, over and over again, until you feel yourself begin to vanish. Something beckons you from the beyond, almost like its calling out your name, and how it manages to piece the malestrome that still swarms your thoughts even as you, the part of you that makes you Morgan, crumbles.

Then everything stops, and you open your eyes.

>>2784830
what if he carries it over his head then?

File: Christopher_VeteranBowman(...).jpg (40 KB, 400x800)

40 KB JPG

>>2784857

You are Morgan Anderle, a swordsman of the 726th Verton Armored Infantry Division currently deployed to Saint Peter's Keep. It's a decent enough place, as between the advantageous position it sits upon, the twisting network of defensive positions, and the two-meter thickness of the major stone walls, it's a stronghold almost without equal.

Half-muddled thoughts are quickly broken by the icy splash of well water over your face, causing you to blink before narrowing your eyes over at the culprit, "Ha ha, hilarious Chris. They teach you to act like that in Carram?"

The individual in question, a lanky man with the kind of lean, ripcord build of all experienced archers, grins back at you, his eyes awash with amusement that runs at odds to the scar that almost splits his face in two, "C'mon, Morgan, you've been to that frigid nightmare; 'no admittance to the Order Perceptum without a rod up thine ass' ain't the unofficial saying without reason."

He's right, the reputation of the Order members that come out of Carram is well known, and earned, though it only brings to question just how the hell someone as carefree as Christopher managed to go through there in the first place. Electing to not comment on it further in favor of wiping the remains of the icy water from your face, you throw your underclothes back on before exiting the Keep's 'bathing rooms'.

The 'Storm Squadron', as your squad has been nicknamed, has just as squalor barracks as the rest of the soldiers stationed here, though just like them you all have added your own personal touches to the room. It's not much, as most of you are from military families and as such are more light-travelers than anything else, but a few personal effects dot the room. The easiest to see is the pile that composes Lucius' collection of 'questionable' novels, a sign of his pedigree and depravity in equal measure.

Thankfully, you're almost never paired off.

Walking over to your bunk, a bare affair aside from the set of armor and weapons laying in an orderly heap, you get to work on arming yourself. The armor itself is a simple affair, not requiring aid to don, and within moments you're back to being comfortably encased in layers of tempered steel. Reaching down, you pull forwards your greatsword before strapping it to your side. It's a fine blade, the man you paid to have it made doing an incredible job considering the time frame you had, but there is a reason why you hold it secondary as you strap your family's heirloom right above it.

"You done yet, kid?" Turning around, you see where Chris is favoring you with a lazy grin, his longbow and quiver strapped over his shoulder, "Boss' wants a word, so hop to."

> That's where I have to end things for the night. We'll continue tomorrow, so see you all then.

>>2784858
Why not have the wind push while Morgans on the cart, Laura is on Morgan and the mule or donkey in on Laura?

>>2784960
What time can we roughly expect?

File: Alan_QuietLeaderoftheStor(...).jpg (24 KB, 353x500)

24 KB JPG

>>2784960

The inner corridors of the Keep are mostly empty, though every once and a while groups of various sizes pass by. A lot of them are infantry like yourself from the six divisions of Verton soldiers on station here, but you do note the ones from Ehkicaster's and Carram's Orders. You don't mind the ones from the former, as having plenty of engineers around helps keep fortifications strong even if they've got their quirks. The ramrod straight officers and mages are a rather different story.

Letting the stuff bastards by, you and Chris turn into one of the various meeting rooms. It's little more than a larger than average room with a wide table in the center, but at least it provides some semblance of privacy. Walking up to the table, you look across to where the leader of your squad is looking over a rough sketch of the fortress.

The man cuts a figure that is both striking and solemn at the same time, his thin, dark armor worn just as easily as the twin scimitars tied to his waist. You don't know much about Alan, only that he's a rather good leader considering he's maybe said two words to you that weren't orders over the last year. At least he's not wearing that hood and cover like he usually does, looking less like an assassin and more like your commanding officer.

"We're here, Boss," Chris is the first to break the silence, that usual easy grin adorning his face.

Alan seemingly ignores the comment for several seconds, still looking down at the map before he backs up a step to look over you two. Thankfully, he finally decides to speak up after a few long seconds, "...I'm increasing your patrol."

Even though you're covered under your helmet, you still raise an eyebrow at the news.

"Seers say something's coming, but nothing more than that," Raising a hand, he drags a line across the outer most walls. They're well fortified, but considering just how large they really are it's a far greater area than the paper makes it out to be, "Dismissed."

You and Chris both give sloppy salutes, yours due to a lack of formal Order training while his has no excuse. Not waiting for a return, as you know you won't get one, you turn about on your heel and exit.

[1/2]

>>2786396

[2/2]

"The kid's worried," The tone of his voice is low and cold, the archer not smiling for once, both things giving you pause. The moment lasts for just an instant, and when Chris turns back to you it's over, "Alright, we've got a shitty day ahead of us; I don't know about you but I'm getting a drink before I go freeze my ass off."

With that, the lanky man pats you on the shoulder before wandering off. It's not exactly according to protocol, but with so many soldiers about it's an inevitability more than anything else. You've got around fifteen minutes before the archer gets around to going to his post, and standing about isn't a good way of spending them.

Now what?
> Go join Chris for a quick drink.
> Go find Lucius, it could be amusing to see what trouble he's gotten up to.
> Go back and ask Alan what exactly the Seers told him.
> Just go on your patrol.
> Other

>>2786402
> Go join Chris for a quick drink.
Some liquid courage in the blood steam is good for not freeze thy ass off.

>>2786402
>> Go find Lucius, it could be amusing to see what trouble he's gotten up to.

>>2786402
>Join chris

we really should be on patrol, but i feel a drink between the doomed is appropriate

>>2786558
>>2786419

Chris it is.

Writin'

>>2786402

You're not one for drinking, but the thought of enduring the harshness of the perimeter watch makes you take off after Chris regardless. He hasn't gone that far when you catch up to him, which is good as you're not entirely sure where you're going, but you could do without the self-satisfied smirk he gives you.

Nonetheless, you follow the archer through the twisting corridors of the interior, vaguely making your way back towards where the barracks are. Eventually, you come up to a set of doors with a group of soldiers sitting around the entrance to one in particular. They're about to tell you off when Chris gives them some kind of hand signal. You don't catch what it is, but the guys let you pass.

Entering into what is clearly a meeting room that was converted into bar, you walk over to where there's a pair of seats empty. You've barely got your helmet off by the time a mug of something vaguely alcoholic is set down before you. It doesn't smell pleasant, and the testing sip you give it is even worse, but you force yourself to drain at least half of it before you do anything else.

Beside you, Chris just keeps his mug raised, pouring the swill right down his gullet until it is finished. Letting out a satisfied gasp, the lanky man slams it down onto the ratty table, "Drink up, kid; we don't have forever."

Following his words, you continue working on your bitter drink. Your expression must show, as you hear that hearty chuckle come from the man beside you.There's the urge to bite back with something, but then you catch that dark expression on Chris' face once more and the words die in your mouth.

Neither of you speak as you finish off your own drink. The archer tosses the man who comes to collect your mug a few coppers and you leave the establishment.

It's time for your patrol.

> Roll me three 1d100's please

Rolled 23 (1d100)

>>2786730
For the keep

Rolled 74 (1d100)

>>2786730

Rolled 9 (1d100)

>>2786730

>>2786730
Will Morgan's combat proficient (beginner, adept, expert, master) Be lower that his current score of 10, or will it be maintained as the same? Does the family sword have any modifiers?

Rolled 61 (1d100)

>>2786730

>>2786794

It depends specifically on the skill in question. Currently, Morgan's Greatsword Fighting Skill is reduced down to a +2, however his family's sword is at a +10 due to his extensive practice with the specific weapon.

>>2786782

That's a 74, let's see what you see.

Writin'

File: SaintPetersKeep_Stronghol(...).png (1.64 MB, 1024x768)

1.64 MB PNG

>>2786730

Traveling through the corridors to the center staircase, you can tell just how close to the surface you're getting as the air around you gets colder and colder. By the time you reach the central part of the keep, your breath is coming out in a almost white stream. Thankfully, the padding within your armor and the liquid fire in your belly pushes back most of the chill. At your side, Chris pulls up a hood and mask of his own before sliding a pair of gloves over his hands as you exit the staircase into the central hall.

It's not much in the way of grandeur, only a series of coats of arms belying the structure's knight brotherhood that once called it home, but it is a rather large room with a grand ceiling overhead. Around it various soldiers loiter around, none of which are looking particularly happy at the prospect of going back out once more.

Making sure your equipment is in the proper order so as to minimize your risk of cold creep, you give your partner a nod before pushing on the mighty, reinforced doors. They fight you most of the way, their hinges purposefully made as to not be easy to move but you have more than enough strength to force them open enough to slip by.

Outside, the harsh winds of the Bolmack Range nip through the air that you can feel even at ground level. Once you get up on the walls, it'll be a very different story. Chris lightly shoves your shoulder to get you moving again, he himself pulling his longbow into his covered grip. Not drawing your own blade, you walk through the frozen inner courtyard, then the much larger frozen outer courtyard, and then up a flight of stairs within one of the towers that composes the outer wall.

Getting to the top, you spot the huddled mass of soldiers hiding from the elements between the arrow splits and the doorways. Dragging your armored boot along the floor neatly brings their attention to you two, and they waste no time at all gathering themselves. Within the minute, you're left with Chris alone.

"Alright kid," His voice is slightly muffled thanks to the mask, but you can pick it out easily enough even with the wind, "We've got the main gate to take care of, and since the teams out scouting the mountainside should be coming back during our watch we'll definitely need to man it, along with patrolling the walls. Pick your poison."

You choice?
> Stay here and man the gate.
> Go patrol the perimeter of the walls.
> Other

>>2787467
> Go patrol the perimeter of the walls.

>>2787467
>> Stay here and man the gate.

I gotta call things here for the night. All the same, I'll continue things tomorrow.

>>2787467
>> Go patrol the perimeter of the walls.

>>2787467
> Go patrol the perimeter of the walls.

>>2787467
>> Go patrol the perimeter of the walls.

>>2787467
Go patrol the perimeter of the walls

>>2788201
>>2787941
>>2787838
>>2787816
>>2787495

Patrolling the perimeter it is.

> Roll me three 1d100's please

Rolled 12 (1d100)

>>2791435

Rolled 51 (1d100)

>>2791435

Rolled 52 (1d100)

>>2791435

Rolled 55 (1d100)

>>2791435

Rolled 94 (1d100)

>>2791435

>>2791655

That's a 52, Failure.

Writin'

File: SaintPetersKeep_Holdingth(...).jpg (44 KB, 852x480)

44 KB JPG

>>2787467

The idea of going out there and freezing your ass off for next twelve hours isn't an appealing one, but after a moment of though you figure it'll be better then sitting here and dying a slow death of boredom. It say something that dying of frostbite would be faster, "I'll go out on the walls; need to stretch my legs anyways."

Chris gives you a lazy grin, one that you can see even with the mask he's wearing, in response, already moving to kick his feet up on a nearby crate, "Suit yourself, kid. Have fun out there."

Resisting the urge to flip him the bird, you take a bracing breath before shoving open the door to the outside. The frozen hinges stick for a second before your force breaks the ice and relents. You keep your grip on the handle, as the moment it begins to open the wind catches it in an attempt to rip it from its moorings. Stepping out into the full brunt of the element, you're forced to put your entire body behind your attempt to close it again. It's a minor miracle that you don't break into a sweat from the effort, as that alone would be half of a death sentence in and of itself, but with that done you turn and begin your patrol along the Keep's outer wall.

The fortress' location atop one of the highest peaks of the Bolmack Range gives it a breathtaking view over the nearby area; the northern mountains under a permanent layer of bitter cold and frost that makes this part of the continent so deadly. Hell Carram, the city of ramrods and frosty assholes itself, is further south than here.

Probably 'cause they're not stupid enough to be this far north.

And you really don't blame them, as the cold and the wind begins cut right through your armor and underclothes. It's nothing you're not used to, but it's also not anywhere near as pleasant as Verton's climate. Regardless, the long hours pass aimlessly, even as you walk laps along the outer wall without hide or hair of anything being outside of it aside from the frost. At least the chill in the air keeps you from falling asleep, even as the sun begins to set, slowly darkening the sky around the fortress.

You're broken out of your stupor by the sound of the front gate's bell going off. Biting down the urge to curse, you take off back towards the tower that you left Chris at.

[1/2]

>>2809428

[2/2]

Upon finding the second-story of the tower empty, you rush down the stairs and find a scene of carnage waiting for you there. Soldiers from one of the other divisions are loitering around the open front gate, and it only takes a moment for you to realize why when you see just how many of them are being carried in. The sight of bloodied and broken bodies, white wrappings slowly being turned red around rends in armor or, in some cases, missing limbs.

"Morgan!" Turning to the side, you see Chris fast walking up to you, a wounded man leaning heavily on him until you come up on his free side and take the weight off of what's left of his leg. You almost hear the sigh of relief from the soldier, which you don't react to until he gives out entirely and the two of you have to catch him before he falls. "Shit shit shit..." The archer mutters to himself as you both hurry towards the main part of the keep, where you can already see triage being performed.

Getting the unconscious, and likely dying, man inside, you're immediately directed by one of the combat medics to put him beside a growing line of wounded. Once he's on the floor, you follow Chris to where he's already moving back outside. You have to put an effort to keep up with him, a bit of a surprise given his usual disposition, but when you do you speak up, "What the hell happened?"

Both of you pause and let another group carrying wounded pass, during which the man looks at you for a second, "No fuckin' idea; the scouts just can back in goddamn pieces."

Not liking the implication behind his words, you just focus on the task in front of you; namely getting as many of the wounded inside the protection of the keep. You're not sure just how many you get to, after the first three it all starts to blur together, but you come back into focus in the main hall of the keep, with the sounds of the dying and medical teams desperately trying to keep anyone they can help alive surrounding you.

Beside you sits Chris, his mask pulled down revealing a bitter look across his face.

Now what?
> Go back out and keep getting wounded inside, or failing that get back onto watch.
> Go down and tell Alan about what's happened.
> Take a moment to catch your breath.

>>2809482
>> Go back out and keep getting wounded inside, or failing that get back onto watch.

>>2809482
> Go back out and keep getting wounded inside, or failing that get back onto watch.
There's most likely someone who's already on their way to tell Alan.

>10
It was fun while it lasted

>>2809482
>> Go down and tell Alan about what's happened.

>>2809482
>Back out on patrol

there is already a chance that someone slipped past us and that this was a diversion.

>>2809494
>>2809647
>>2809851

Back out it is.

Writin'

File: HellKnights_BlackenedHear(...).jpg (177 KB, 980x1200)

177 KB JPG

>>2809482

"C'mon," Despite the heaviness of fatigue settling against your bones, you still force yourself to stand up, offering a hand as you do, "We've still got a job to do."

Chris grimaces, likely at the thought of going back out there, but takes your hand to pull himself up regardless.

Navigating past the mob of medics and wounded, you pass through the ajar front door back outside into another flurry of activity. Soldiers from lively every division stationed are out and manning the defenses, shields and spears firmly pointed outwards. Meanwhile, several combat mages are loitering around a fire, trying their best to not lose their fingers to the cold while a field artillery team works on repairing a trebuchet in the center of the courtyard.

Then, without warning, the reinforced doors to the keep slam shut.

The archer beside you turns as you do, sparing a glance to you for a moment before he attempts to reopen the doors. Despite the effort he's putting into opening them, they don't so much as budge. Stepping backwards, Chris looks absolutely bewildered, "...the fuc-"

And that's when an explosion rocks the keep, a series of yells and calls to arms echoing out in response.

Drawing your family's sword, you dead sprint for the front gate and arrive just in time to see a group of Hell Knights in blackened armor slam into the first ranks of the soldiers in the outer courtyard. Meanwhile, the men up on the wall begin calling something out, but you can't see hide or hair of what they are seeing from up there.

Now what?
> Reinforce the front line at the gate against the Hell Knights.
> Get up on the wall and see what the issue is.
> Head back to that group of mages and make sure they do their damn jobs.
> Other

>>2809956
>Tell chris to get the mages to do their jobs, then re-enforce the front lines

FOR SAINT PETERS KEEP

>>2809956
>> Head back to that group of mages and make sure they do their damn jobs.

>>2809956
>mages pls help

>>2809963
>>2809988
>>2810026

Taking this as sending Chris off to get the mages while going in yourself.

> Roll me three 1d100+10's please

Rolled 85 + 10 (1d100 + 10)

>>2810057

Rolled 70 (1d100)

>>2810057

Rolled 75 + 10 (1d100 + 10)

>>2810057

>>2810063

That's a 95, Success.

Writin'

File: FallenKnight_AlongtheBloo(...).png (343 KB, 300x417)

343 KB PNG

>>2809956

Restraining the urge to throw yourself into the fray, you grab Chris by the shoulder and shout over the carnage erupting around you, "Get those mages off their asses and make sure they don't get jumped!"

The archer gives you a firm nod before sprinting off, already drawing an arrow along his longbow.

Turning back to the front gate, you run over to where the vanguard is taking an absolute beating at the hands of those strange, black Hell Knights. One unfortunately soldier is hit by a brutal shield bash, his falling prone opening a hole in the line that those damn demons try to exploit to break it.

So, that's exactly where you enter the fray from.

Easily knocking aside an oversized broadsword, you side-step a follow-up shield bash before sliding the tip of your family's blade through the gap just under its helmet. There's a strange, high-pitched whine when you stab the sword deeper in, the feeling of something that isn't quite flesh and bone resisting before you punch through to the other side and tear it out. The corrupted remains dissolve into ash as they fall, yourself already stepping past it to the next.

The world around you blurs for the next few minutes, reducing itself down to nothing more than the motions of dodging, parrying, and counter attacking as blades come down at you from every direction. Even without using your magic, you're able to just keep ahead of the dance of death, but you can't say the same for the others at your side.

The splatter of blood against your helmet fully snaps you out of your trance, as the soldier who was fighting alongside you dies messily to a trio of spears going through his armor like it wasn't there. Stepping back, and knocking aside a spear with your name on it, you're forced to keep moving back due to just how many of the vanguard have fallen.

Gritting your teeth, you duck past an overhead slash from another Hell Knight, plunging your blade into where its spine would be before ripping straight up without looking. The ash-like substance that floats into your view proves your kill, but there's still the line of spearmen with shields baring down at you. Thoughts of how exactly you're going to go about killing them are still going through your head when three specks of fire slam into them.

Turning away from the combined explosion of three separate Fireballs going off right on top of you, you manage to avoid most of the damage though you can feel your armor warming and the frost covering it melting.

Looking back, you see Chris backed by that squadron of mages standing firm at the center of the outer courtyard, what's left of the soldiers here gathering around them as well. The archer himself is firing arrow after arrow at something you can't see, before he locks eyes with you and attempts to yell something that you can't hear.

And that's the only warning you get when a shadow covers you.

[1/2]

>>2810161
Oh good God it's the higher demon lord

>>2810161
this is beffiting of a reaver, in with the thick of it. That said, Morgan get the fuck out of dodge, now.

>>2810170
Or maybe, its a fallen knight

File: ValidonTheBlade_Dreadknig(...).jpg (48 KB, 500x415)

48 KB JPG

>>2810161

[2/2]

Throwing yourself to the side is all that saves you from being crushed under foot of something that, without even looking at it, you can feel the corruption coming off of it in waves. Rolling to your feet, you rise slowly in a defensive stance to fight something that irradiates menace.

A set of what was once probably fine armor adorns the demon in front of you, long since having lost its luster under innumerable years of wear and tear, but what really catches your attention is the ultra-greatsword in its hand that, despite it being a good half-meter taller than you, seemingly dwarfs its wielder. Its off hand hangs limply from its side, the odd angle its bent to telling you its likely broken and unusable.

Almost as one, the two of you rise to your full heights at the same time, the demon looking at you curiously as it does.

But that ends when it twitches suddenly, black smoke forming around it until it envelops its form, a bestial howl that sounds distant and in your face simultaneously rips through the air.

[DREADKNIGHT VALIDON, THE BLADE]

> Go all out, you need to kill this thing here and now.
> Attack it head on, but don't reveal any of your cards just yet.
> Fight defensively for now, if you can get its attention you can give Chris a shot at it.
> Other

>>2810170

This is only part one of the flashbacks to what happened at Saint Peter's Keep that Morgan is/will experience(ing).

There's four total I have planned out

>>2810180
>Go all out

Hey remember that "illusion and invisible trick" well make the illusion go to its right while we move to its hurt left arm, and bring the pain.

ALL OUT BITCH

>>2810180
>> Fight defensively for now, if you can get its attention you can give Chris a shot at it.
we have other people that can help, so don't just Leeroy Jenkins head on when we can call for fire support.

>>2810180
>all out

>>2810190
>>2810184

All out it is.

> Roll me three 1d100's please

DCs: 50/90

Rolled 59 (1d100)

>>2810223
we needed to be told the DC's....this boads ill

Rolled 4 (1d100)

>>2810223

Rolled 42 (1d100)

>>2810223

>>2810226

That's a 59, Partial Success.

> Roll me three 1d100+10's please

Rolled 45, 7, 76, 39, 55, 25 + 10 = 257 (6d100 + 10)

>>2810300

[DREADKNIGHT VALIDON ACTIVITY]

Rolled 45 (1d100)

>>2810300

>>2810303
65. nasty

Rolled 87 (1d100)

>>2810223

Rolled 65 + 10 (1d100 + 10)

>>2810300

>>2810311

That's a 97 versus 49, Success.

Writin'

File: ValidonTheBlade_AnotherCo(...).gif (392 KB, 320x180)

392 KB GIF

>>2810180

There's no time to think of a complicated plan, as the monster impales one of the nearby corpses and whips it at you. Diving through the layer of snow covering the ground, you scramble to your feet in time to block the brutal follow-up that rattles you down to your bones.

Gritting your teeth, you grip your family's sword by the blade itself just to keep yourself from being overwhelmed. Even still, the sheer force against you starts pushing you back despite bending your knees in a futile attempt to stand your ground. Thinking on your feet, you release your grip and quickly move to the side to avoid being crushed as the demon moves past you.

With a second to spare, you feel the familiar pain of a headache being to pulse as you vanish from sight as a major illusion takes your place. Being mindful of the fact that your footprints are visible even if you're not, you carefully step to the side. Spinning around, the monster bounds forwards with a brutal stab right through the chest of your illusion.

The moment that it breaks is the one that you take to plunge your sword right into its sword-arm.

A horrific scream, like glass shattering over and over again, escapes that strange helm, more black miasma coming up from underneath that forces you to rip your blade free and back up. Instinct screams at you, and you force your magic to activate once more, which is about all that keeps you from losing your head as it lashes out once more.

Deciding that you can't keep fucking around until an errant attack kills you, you take a step forwards right into the killzone. Sending a illusion forwards, you dive under a horizontal slash that immediately cuts it in half, retaliating with a cut of your own through its leg. Dark fog bites away at you, sending odd sensations rolling over your skin, now that you're in this close, but you grit your teeth and ignore it as the next blindingly fast attack comes in. Dodging and counter-striking another time, you're forced to bring your guard back up as a massive foot slams into it.

Skidding back as you slide along the frozen ground, you consider just how you're going to continue.

Now what?
> Keep going all out, you can take this thing out.
> Keep up the offensive, but limit your magic; you don't know if the demon is catching on.
> Switch to defensive, you'll need support from the mages to kill this thing.
> Other

>>2810492

I gotta pause things here, as I'm off to go play dnd, but I'll be continue things tomorrow. See you all then.

>>2810492
>Switch to defensive
They should have some spells readied by now.

>>2810492
>Defences, try and stay on the other side of the demon from the mages.

Also yell, BARBECUED DEMON WOULD BE NICE

>>2810492
>> Switch to defensive, you'll need support from the mages to kill this thing.
Just hang in there and wait a bit, call for support!

>>2810492
>> Switch to defensive, you'll need support from the mages to kill this thing.

>>2810531
>>2810522
>>2810519
>>2810505

Defense it is.

> Roll me three 1d100+10's please.

DC: 40/75

Rolled 28 (1d100)

>>2812292
welp, lets hope the mages like baked fallen knights

Rolled 97 (1d100)

>>2812292

Rolled 76 (1d100)

>>2812292

Rolling to check for nat 1s...

>>2812303

That's a 107, Full Success.

Writin'

File: ValidonTheBlade_Corruptio(...).jpg (75 KB, 480x677)

75 KB JPG

>>2810492

The thing growls, walking towards you with a a shuffling gait and that greatsword dragging behind it.

You've definitely wounded it, but it came at the cost of far too many close calls; it only needs to get one good hit off at you, after all. So, perhaps, it'd be smart to play this more carefully.

It turns out that's correct answer, as you're able to react in time when a bolt of lightning lances through the chest of the demon, missing you by hardly a meter, eliciting another scream of agony out of it.

Despite that, it's still alive and now it's apparently fucking pissed as it spins around to look at the holding soldiers and mages. It breaks into a full sprint, any inclination of humanity gone as it throws itself forwards.

But, despite how fast it is, you're faster, and you stab your family's blade right into the back of it. The two of you, riding your momentum, get far too close to the remainder of your forces than you're comfortable with, but then you're forced to back up a step as it turns back to you. The demon wastes no time attempting to bisect you, an attack you don't even try to block or deflect.

No, you just drop to the ground, balancing yourself on one arm as you slash up and remove its right hand at the wrist. Getting a knee under you for stability, you take advantage of the thing's screaming at its sudden amputation to stab it in the other leg and twist. It falls as you rip your blade free, the metal of it still flawless even as its carved straight through flesh and armor, and you immediately raise your sword to end this once and for all.

There's a sickly crack of bone as the demon's left arm suddenly straightens out and a clawed hand goes right for your chest. The sound of metal screeching against metal fills the air, but you ignore it. Even as that sound comes to a point and breaks, being replaced with flesh tearing and blood spilling, you ignore it.

Because you're too busy repeatedly stabbing it in the face, over and over and over again. Every desperate thrust of your blade makes the demon convulse, the armored helm it wears slowly being destroyed under your assault. Then, like a glass window breaking, the front of it shatters and your sword rests up to the hilt of a man's head. A pair of human eyes, wild and white, stare back up at you, even as you've got him impaled through the skull.

For a moment, for an eternity, you stare back at him.

Then, it's broken by the distant sound of renewed fighting, and someone calling something over and over again.

That's... odd. Why would they be so concerned?

And then the pain of an armored gauntlet impaled through your side catches up to you, as you look down to see that its still there, firmly in your guts up to the wri-

Then everything goes black.

> Roll me three 1d100+5's please

Rolled 97 + 5 (1d100 + 5)

>>2812350

Rolled 31 (1d100)

>>2812350
my gods....

Rolled 56 (1d100)

>>2812350

Rolling to check for nat 1 again...

>>2812351

That's a 102, Success.

Writin'

File: Spoiler Image (135 KB, 590x332)

135 KB PNG

>>2812350

For a moment, there's nothing but black around you.

Then slowly, vaguely, you hear something begin to cut through the black.

"...ga... Mo...n...MORGAN!"

With a jolt, you sit up suddenly, finding yourself back in the little cove outside of Calbourne Fortress. It's a strange feeling, having your real body once more, with all the associated aches and pains that comes with it. In your left hand, the Dreamcatcher Blade burns like a smoldering coal.

Then your vision comes to clarity thanks to Laura shaking you, "Kid, kid, what's wrong?"

She looks slightly relieved, but the ears on her head continue twitching all the while, "I... don't know... I-"

And that's when you see something form in the air above her, some strange kind of eye-like thing, but you don't waste a moment to think about what it is as you grab her and dive to the side as best you can. A small wave of force washes over you as that thing explodes, but your armor takes most of it.

The little lady looks back up at you in shock, but that quickly morphs into one with a bit more steel when you pull her to her feet.

You're about to yell at her to run, when a flash in the distance catches your attention. The screech of stressed metal fills your ears as your Bulwark forms, and you bring it up just in time for something to slam into it.

The mere force of the attack knocks you backwards, slamming into a tree painfully. Laura runs over to check on you, but you grab her by the wrist and pull her behind a break in the hill as a flash of red rips through the cracked tree you were at moments ago. Over the sounds of your labored breathing, you hear the sound of wings and the distant calls of Hell Knights.

Out of the fire...

File: Mura_TakeaSeat.png (116 KB, 390x263)

116 KB PNG

>>2812391

And that's where I'm going to leave Dreadknight for now. Sorry about all the delays, but in the end I did manage to get to the point I wanted to stop at.

I plan on continuing Artificer Quest next, which I will be running until its end. After its done, I will be moving DQ into the 'priority' slot for running, so expect much more consistent and frequent threads when that happens.

Hope you all enjoyed it, and I'll see you all again soon.

>>2812392
Do we still have the dream blade?

>>2812431

Yep.

>>2812392
Thx for running