>>3879593
stealing first post, great to see this live again

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>>3879593
The sight and sound of the imps trailing you has long since vanished. Darkness consumes the path ahead, which you cannot discern even with Celegwen illuminating your faces. The elf's staff seems to devour the darkness around it, but provides little in the way of sight. The only forms you can make out beyond yours and your companions is a towering building on the horizon, its outline cutting through the shade. If you squint, you can discern buildings further beyond, but they are of little concern. You have suffered much to get to your destination. You don't want to get distracted now.

It feels as if you all have been walking for hours in the darkness. The barely perceptible weight of the few torches remaining in your pack is a harsh reminder of how far your resources have dwindled. You're reminded as well of how much you've been through. You'd thank Celegwen and Ofelia for aiding you as much as they have, but you're afraid of making a sound. The abyss of darkness leering around you is punctuated frequently by hysterical screaming, sobbing and laughter from the buildings ahead. It can't be from a single individual, as the voices wildly differ.

Your body aches. The burn in your limbs and lungs from running for your life, marching forward without pause, praying to multiple deities within the span of a few hours, and the stress of your current situation bears heavily on your emaciated frame. Still, you press on, nudged occasionally by your faithful hound, Ray. The mastiff has obediently obeyed your commands to remain silent as you march on, and he's been keeping you on your feet each and every time you feel your strength faltering.

Just when it feels like you can't take another step, Ofelia speaks. The halfling woman has been leading you all diligently through the darkness, and puts up a hand to bring everyone to a halt. She waves to Celegwen, making an elaborate gesture that you discern no meaning from.

The sorceress murmurs softly into the end of her staff, dissipating all light from it for the briefest of moments. Starlight flows around you all in a halo, and the sound of the screaming and laughter on the borders of your mind ceases for a blessed moment. The only thing you can hear is Celegwen 's methodical voice.

"We're here."

Ofelia speaks out, although you cannot see her. Her voice seems to be everywhere. "This is fuckin' weird, Gwen. Can we get a lil' light?"

"I cannot sustain both effects simultaneously, Ofelia. I'm at my limit, after fending off our attackers for such an extended length of time. ...yet, I fear it will be long before we can rest again, if we proceed ahead."

(1/2)

>>3879595
You hazard speaking aloud. Restrained and timid as usual, you would think the sound would be barely perceptible. Unbelievably, your words echoes around you all as well. "You both have been here before- and cautioned me that this place was terribly guarded. Is there no place to rest nearby? I can make out quite a few buildings... although it's difficult to tell if they're occupied. ...surely there must be somewhere we can regroup."

Celegwen replies, "it has been no less than two weeks since we were last here. The patrols have no doubt changed, but there was an abundance of demons in this area last we came. I had hoped that our reckless escape from those small demons would have pulled them away, but there may still yet be some remaining. There are many humans here as well, Father. We were attacked by several of them on our last excursion to this place, and deemed the venture not worth the effort."

The rogue interjects, "we've got us much more important things to search for now, o'course." It almost sounds like she's trying to reassure you, but she's clearly speaking to the elf. "I think Richard and Ray can handle some trouble, but I dunno what else might be up there. It's damn hard to make out anything. I can scout ahead, but the space up ahead is a real pain. Might take me awhile."

>A) Ask Ofelia to scout ahead, alone, while you and Ray guard Celegwen. Give the elf some time to recuperate, and take a breather as well. Decide on a time to go searching for her if she takes too long to come back.

>B) Insist that you all stay together. There's safety in numbers, and none of you are entirely certain what you're getting into. Make a clear path towards the entrance, come what may.

>C) Pray to Spirit to discern exactly what lies ahead. Her blessing can reveal demons, liars, and blasphemers- exactly the sort of humans that no doubt plague this place. Your own spirit is worse for the wear, but maybe channeling Her can help.

>D) Write-in.

>>3879597
Best girl Mercy has asked us to bring our children together, maybe we can bring her light even in the darkest of places?

>D) Write-in.
Ask Ofelia to scout ahead carefully and pray to mercy that the lost souls come to their senses, herding them to us for guidance.

>>3879597
>>C) Pray to Spirit to discern exactly what lies ahead. Her blessing can reveal demons, liars, and blasphemers- exactly the sort of humans that no doubt plague this place. Your own spirit is worse for the wear, but maybe channeling Her can help.

>>3879605
I'd like to see this , lets get crazy and start with a write in

>>3879597

Seconding >>3879605.

>>3879605
>>3879611
>>3879613
You guys are insane and far too good for me.

>>3879607
It would be too much to ask so much of the Goddesses at once, so going to go with majority here. Normally will try to integrate every vote though, so don't despair.

Great shit everyone. Locking the vote, writing now!

>>3879597

This >>3879605 has already gained traction so I'll throw my vote on too.

>>3879605
THIS

>>3879660
You recognize that the usual shaking in your frame isn't from tremor or strain. You're deeply unsettled. The sound, faint as it is, of countless men and women lost to the Catalyst is enough to make you weep. You restrain yourself, face wrought with worry, as you turn to Ofelia. You trust her skill enough to not spell out what you need piecemeal. "Please scout ahead for us... carefully. ...there's something I need to do here."

Mercy's words echo in your thoughts, Her warmth and radiance bringing you tremendous comfort. "Gather Our Children, Father. Though the only cure to The Catalyst is death, the afflicted themselves need not be abhorred. Gather Our Children, and find one that appears taken by their weakness. Find one that still possesses kindness in their heart.

The tremor subsides as you hold onto your holy symbol. A gentle heat is radiating from it, easing the pain in your hands and limbs.

You can barely make out her small form, but the halfling's reassuring grin meets you, even in the darkness. "You got it. You both stay safe. If I'm not back in an hour, come for me, 'kay?"

Celegwen places a hand on the halfling's shoulder. "That won't be necessary. Keep your eyes out for yourself."

The blonde nods, and gives the bulk of her equipment to Celegwen. You can barely make out the myriad daggers she stashes inside and around her clothing, and a small pouch with unseen contents that she keeps close to her side. You stop the woman moments before she turns to leave.

"I'm going to pray," you caution her, "to guide my children. It may diffuse their madness. Please... try your best to not hurt them."

Ofelia looks at you with bewilderment. "You think you'll be okay?"

You don't know how to answer. A long moment passes. "I couldn't forgive myself... if I didn't at least try."

Nervously, you continue fidgeting with your holy symbol as both women's eyes bore into you. You glance away, down towards Ray. The mastiff is also looking up at you, clearly aware of your concern. You murmur, "just stop looking at me and go on ahead."

The halfling huffs, and then laughs slightly to herself. "Alright, alright." She turns, and begins to slink off into the shadows. Her voice trails behind you all for moments after she's left.

"Good luck."

The echo dissipates. Celegwen seems to be respecting your request, her eyes averting from you as she asks, "how dangerous is what you're attempting to do?"

You don't look at her as you reply, "the last time I attempted to sway so many at a single time, it robbed me of... blood. Not much more. I may lose consciousness-" you pause, not taking your eyes off of your dog. You give the hound a pat on his side, always relieved to have his company. "-but Ray will see to it that I'm alright. You won't be in any danger, Celegwen. The Gods are Merciful."

(1/4)

>>3879730
The elf seems satisfied with your reply, but obviously is keeping her guard up. "I'll continue the spell, as long as I'm able. I am very tired, though, Father, and wish to rest as soon as we can-"

"There's no need," you interject. "Mercy is with me. ...you can drop the spell."

You glance up, your nerves eased by Celegwen's trust in you. She seems to be coming around a bit, as she murmurs into the end of her staff, releasing the aura around you both that has been enabling you to speak to one another without detection. The starlight fades from view, and the world seems to be entirely black, save for the faint outline of the library ahead. Taking a knee, you gesture to Ray to come to your side, just in case. You can hardly make out your own hands as they knit around Mercy's symbol. You fold your fingers around the outstretched hands, letting the warmth come into you. You can feel the countless cracks along your soul mending, held together in Her embrace.

You don't need to speak. There's no need for words between you. You bow your head, reaching out to the countless souls ahead of you that have likely never felt Her embrace. You think to your first sermon, how lost the people of your hometown were that day- how close they all were to falling from Her light indefinitely. You know that there's no need to speak, but you can't help but whisper a prayer to Her.

"Mercy. The afflicted need not be abhorred. The Father asks not for retribution, but for Your grace. Let Our children into Our arms, that We may love them, that We may guide them. Release them from their turmoil."

A golden light sears into your senses, as the last words leave your lips. Time leaves your senses, as your flesh and spirit seem to part from you as well. You lean into the warmth, Her compassion, as you literally reach out to bring your children to you.

There is a commotion up ahead. Towering on the outskirts of your vision is the border of the library, yes, but as your eyes sear with divinity you can see something more. Figures of humans who have been lost to themselves for time immemorial. You do not know them, or their stories, but you can feel in every fiber of your being that they have suffered.

Celegwen stirs next to you, but you can't speak out to her. Your mouth flows freely with blood, for the first time in years since asking so much of Mercy. She's taking as little as She can, you know, but still the copper is a bitter reminder of the humans you are asking to save.

Their insanity bleeds into the edges of your mind. Years long past, subsisting off of what their captors can give them-

Captors.

(2/4)

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>>3879733
The trickle of humans that you sense coming from the building ahead feels claustrophobic, trapped. As if there is something that won't allow them to leave. A great number of them, desperate, begging to be saved, to have release from their torment- from the Catalyst. These humans are hardly as much, locked away in their own minds, gaining respite from the demonic yet constraining themselves in a hell of their own making.

One by one, they begin to filter out of the building. You cannot see them, but you can feel them approaching. You waver, the blood loss and strain becoming overwhelming. Still, you reach out to them, to guide them.

Celegwen clearly is still next to you, but you can barely see anything, light consuming your senses. You try to knit your eyes shut, to better feel the people coming towards you, to better serve them. You bring your arms close, praying once more, begging the Goddess to ground you, but the language that pours forth is incoherent, unearthly. Your voice intermingles with Her own, and you do not restrain the prayer as you lead as many humans from the darkness as you can.

You feel yourself cracking. There are simply too many of them. The trickle of humans has been steadily flowing, and there must be 50 of them now heading towards you. You recognize your limits- you wouldn't dare ask more of Mercy than she is able to give through you. You raise your eyes, opened, gold lancing green, as you look upon your works.

Celegwen has her sword and staff drawn next to you, sweating as she looks out over the mob of humans you've brought to them. She's casting a light of her own from the end of her staff, and illuminating the area around you. There are no fewer than the 50 humans you felt, and it seems that several more are slowly making their way towards you. You lean into the floor, struggling as you are with the prayer. The ruins at your feet are smooth stone, almost polished, treacherously slick with old blood and debris. You manage to keep yourself grounded, noticing for the first time that the building ahead is substantially closer than you first suspected. The space and light in this area, as both women said, seems to make little sense to you.

The humans fill an expanse of stone that leads up to a colossal network of buildings. Myriad doors and windows loom and leer, piercing the darkness and little light around you. It's hard to make out anything on the interior, but mercifully, a large volume of the screams and laughter seems to have subsided.

You gaze upon the humans around you and Celegwen, who are inching steadily closer. You release your embrace slightly, keeping them at a safe distance. The majority of the men and women are adorned in rags- it's difficult to discern exactly what age they are from, or how long they have been down here. Many look to be about your age, but many more still are bent and worn. They waver, silently, eyes glazed over with the blessing of Mercy.

(3/4)

>>3879735
It looks like, for a time, you have quelled their madness.

There's no telling how long this will last for.

>A) Try and speak aloud to the humans you have gathered. Attempt to guide them with your voice. Preach Her word and hope that it takes someone. Anyone.

>B) Look through the crowd. Try to find a human that looks to have been down here for the shortest period of time. Question a singular individual, if they can still speak.

>C) While the crowd is subdued, make a break to find Ofelia. These humans are clearly insane- you would much rather run for the library while there's far fewer people inhabiting it than to risk having a mob on your hands.

>D) Write-in.

>>3879738
>>A) Try and speak aloud to the humans you have gathered. Attempt to guide them with your voice. Preach Her word and hope that it takes someone. Anyone.
question whoever takes it most

>>3879738
>A) Try and speak aloud to the humans you have gathered. Attempt to guide them with your voice. Preach Her word and hope that it takes someone. Anyone.

>>3879738
>A) Try and speak aloud to the humans you have gathered. Attempt to guide them with your voice. Preach Her word and hope that it takes someone. Anyone.
Call back to that one sermon from thread 1 start?

>>3879738
>A) Try and speak aloud to the humans you have gathered. Attempt to guide them with your voice. Preach Her word and hope that it takes someone. Anyone.

>>3879738
>>A) Try and speak aloud to the humans you have gathered. Attempt to guide them with your voice. Preach Her word and hope that it takes someone. Anyone.
letsago

>>3879744
>>3879749
>>3879750
>>3879764
>>3879768
Gonna call it here, vote is locked. Writing!

>>3879770
You bow your head once more, thanking Mercy for Her gifts as you release Her.

The gold fades from your vision. You wipe the blood from your face, disgruntled to have to sully your robes, but you have no time to concern yourself with the matter. You attempt to stagger to your feet, and nearly collapse from the effort. Ray is right at your side, leaning into you to prevent you from falling. You murmur a word of thanks to the hound, and to your disappointment, your voice seems to be your own once more.

You always long to be back with the Gods, after prayer. ...but there is another way to share their gifts.

Looking out over the crowd before you, looming overhead, you see the face of burden. These people look aged beyond their years, bent with hunger and torment. Many look wounded, and more still look to be on the brink of death. One, walking towards you all, looks to be on the brink of collapsing outright. You grit your teeth, and try to rise again, only to have to take a knee. Your head is swimming, your stomach in knots. Your limbs ache and burn, not nearly as much from your earlier exertion as from the prayer. You exerted Her will over far fewer people than you have before, but they were far harder to sway. It's a miracle you're still able to move at all.

Celegwen seems to see you struggling to rise, and comes up behind you. Before you can protest, she wraps your arm around her shoulder. You're still a bit taller than her, but she's able to help you to your feet with some effort.

"...thank you," you murmur, trying to wipe more of your blood away, hoping to not get it on her.

"It seems whatever you've done has worked," she says, looking out over the subdued mass before you.

"It won't..." you wince, interrupting yourself to clutch onto your sides. Your lungs feel like they're on fire.

The elf gestures for you to lean harder into her. "Are you going to be alright?"

You don't reply, finishing your sentence. "...it won't last for long. Please help keep me on my feet... I'm not finished here."

Scrutinizing you intensely, Celegwen seems disgruntled, but she obliges, putting up her short sword so she can better shoulder you. "Go on."

You look out over the throngs of frayed and weary heads. You're taller than almost all of of the hunched, swaying bodies, and can easily see to the edges of the crowd with Celegwen's light. It does not appear that anyone is coming. ...yet.

"I hate to ask," you begin, looking to the sorceress. She meets your gaze for a split second before you dart your eyes away. "Can you dissipate the sound around us all? I want them to hear me in the back, but..."

"...no. You'll have to make this quick, Father."

The frown on your face is etched about as deeply as it can get. You won't compromise Her word, even if it's dangerous. It's never stopped you before.

(1/2)

>>3879907
You straighten up as best as you can, through the pain coursing through your back and chest. Your voice, normally so timid, clears as you project it to your children. You know you have to be brief, and choose your words as carefully as you can.

"I know you are lost."

You look as far back as you can, to the last few humans trickling out of the library steps. The grand, sweeping staircase leading to the center of the building seems devoid of any demons. You dare to throw your voice further.

"Do we not all stray? Is it not human- to turn from one another?"

"There is no need to wander. My children- you have been blessed. You have been embraced by Mercy."

Your breath hitches, more blood coming up. You restrain yourself as best as you can, coughing away from Celegwen and forcing yourself to continue.

"She has guided you away from your madness, and into Her light. You need not stray from Her path. You need only accept Her into your heart."

You have to pause a moment to breathe, your chest aching. It feels like it's getting harder to stand, but you redouble your efforts. You almost thought you saw someone move in the crowd.

"You need not practice Her tenets to feel her this day. You need not fear Her. There is nothing to fear more than the absence of Her light. There is nothing- no greater suffering- than to stray from Her path."

Surely enough, there is a figure. A man- someone hooded, but you see his eyes stray from their haze. His head is bowed in thought, not waving in delirium.

"The Gods are Merciful," you finish, desperately wanting to continue but unable to speak any further. You double over, pulling away from Celegwen as you cough violently into your sleeve. You would collapse if she hadn't been supporting you, blood flowing freely from your mouth.

Ray hasn't left your side and seems extremely distraught, whining against your side. The elf sounds like she wants to say something as well, but you interrupt, coughing, "there-! That- that man!"

You shakily pull your sleeve away, bright red blood visible even against the black fabric. You point in the direction of the man you saw, and beg the elf, "please, we need to-"

Another wet cough interjects. Frustrated, you simply point more firmly, and try to pull Celegwen towards the man's direction. She complies, shouldering all of Ofelia's gear and you as you slowly make your way into the crowd.

"Step- aside-" you command, waving an arm at the throng ahead of you. The quelled mass parts gently, moving with complete subservience as you both make your way towards the hooded individual you saw.

(2/3, just barely cut off)

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>>3879914
The man keeps his head bowed, unresponsive, as you approach. You pause. His face is scarred, his skin as pale and almost as sickly as your own- but he seems relatively young and unharmed by the ruins. You're taken aback by how normal he seems.

He doesn't speak, his eyes completely downcast, either lost in thought or unwilling to acknowledge you both. You, Celegwen and Ray come to a stop a few feet before him.

You still don't hear any sound off in the distance. Celegwen seems to make no indication of anything approaching yet, either. Still, she says,

"We need to be brief, Father."

>What do you ask of this stranger?

>>3879919
>Ask him who he is and why he seems in better shape than the rest.

>>3879919
“Step into her light child, you need not fear, you are done fearing, lead these people away from here, seek the surface to safety."

>>3879919
>>3879919
What would you wish for yourself?
What would you wish for another?
Who are you?
Three things to orient an identity.

Posting this for some massive gaylord.

>>3879919
backing >>3879949 and >>3879945

>>3879935
>>3879945
>>3879949
>>3879965
Gonna work these all together somehow. Vote is locked. Writing now.

>>3880004
Quickly, you raise your head, forcing yourself to look at the man. "Step into Her light, my son. There is no need for fear."

The man raises his eyes to yours. They're full of light.

"You are not afraid," you reassure him. He nods in response, and the thoughtfulness on his face does not leave him. This man is remarkable- you have never witnessed someone swayed by Mercy in such a way before. You break the eye contact, coughing horribly as the blood continues to part from your lungs. You struggle to speak, but force yourself to anyways. The sound of many footsteps can be heard in the distance.

"...what would you wish for yourself?"

The man holds his tongue. His eyes, glowing as they are with Mercy's light, sear into you. Celegwen shifts, struggling even with your light frame. She's clearly running out of strength and patience. You wince, straightening up as best as you can to command your devotee.

"Speak, my son... there is little time for us here."

His voice comes out dry and withered with strain. He clearly had been screaming himself hoarse. You can tell the tone was once strong, despite its current state. "I wish to learn," he manages, looking straight through you.

You nod to him. "And what would you wish for another?"

His eyes drag over the crowd around him. "...Mercy."

The sound of footsteps off in the distance is growing louder. Rapidly, you try to ask, "who are you?"

"...I do not recall." The man's voice sinks deeply into himself, as if he could find the answer in his very soul.

You scrutinize his form more closely, but can't make out any sort of identifying markings or crests from his cloth. "You seem to be far better off than many, here- do you know why?"

"I hid," he says plainly. "...they are coming."

The footsteps are unmistakable now. Ray begins growling, and Celegwen starts to pull you away. "We don't have time for this, Father-"

"No-!" you cough, pulling back. There's no strength in you to do so. You manage to say to the man, as resolutely as you can, "lead these people away from here. Seek the surface to safety. Look for the spiders with bells. Tell them that Father Anscham is guiding you-" The elf is firmly pulling you away now. "Celegwen, please-"

"There are demons ahead, Father. You have attracted them once again."

You desperately look to the man, his head bowing as he nods to you. His voice, cracked and frayed as his robes, lingers in the edges of your mind as you are pulled away. "I will."

The crowd, still subservient, seems to be parting as you and Celegwen pull back.

"Can you see what's coming?" You hazard asking.

"A number of demons seem to have recognized our location. They are wielding spears, Father, and I suspect they are poisoned. This does not bode well for us... or for Ofelia."

(1/2)

>>3880124
Ray, dutifully keeping on your trail, outright snarls at some unseen figure beyond your vision. Before you can see what it is, a weapon- not unlike Orgoth's javelin- streaks through the air an impales a woman's head directly beside you. It protrudes grotesquely from both sides of her face and the back of her hair for a moment, the light fading from her eyes.

Celegwen makes a sound as the woman's body collapses to the floor with a wet thud, her skull cracking on the impact.

None of the humans around you turn to move. They are restrained. They are Merciful.

Your blood runs cold.

>A) Command the mob to flee for their lives, and rise to defend them. Pray to Flesh to strengthen you, and charge the demons without fear of immediate death. You are barely able to stand now- but with His blessing, you certainly can make work of your mace and shield.
>B) Use the mob as a human shield. Sneak away with Celegwen and Ray. Try to find Ofelia, and get into the library while the demons are clearly pulled out of it. You are no coward, but these men and women may already be too lost to be saved.
>C) Call out to the man you spoke with, and demand that he lead the crowd to safety. Pray to Mercy to protect you all, and seek out Ofelia. Her talents would be better aided if you created enough of a distraction.
>D) Write-in.

>>3880126
>>A) Command the mob to flee for their lives, and rise to defend them. Pray to Flesh to strengthen you, and charge the demons without fear of immediate death. You are barely able to stand now- but with His blessing, you certainly can make work of your mace and shield.
OUR WEAKNESS IS HIS STRENGTH
make enough of a ruckus to give ofelia an opening

>>3880126
>>C) Call out to the man you spoke with, and demand that he lead the crowd to safety. Pray to Mercy to protect you all, and seek out Ofelia. Her talents would be better aided if you created enough of a distraction.

>>3880126
>C
>Light a torch, hold it aloft while hunkering behind the shield.
If Celegwen can throw the spears back without getting poisoned, i think we'll have enough of a distraction

>>3880126
>C) Call out to the man you spoke with, and demand that he lead the crowd to safety. Pray to Mercy to protect you all, and seek out Ofelia. Her talents would be better aided if you created enough of a distraction.
Supplies are low, and we cannot hope to outlast a fucking swarm again. No, now is the time to play smart.

>>3880190
This too

>>3880150
Based, but it looks like the overwhelming majority wants to go a little lower-key.

>>3880157
>>3880190
>>3880193
>>3880197
Working these together, vote is locked! Going to make some food and then will get back to writing.

>>3880208
>>3880150
Sorry bros. Guess we'll have to start making gains for Flesh after we make it out of this place and get some downtime before the next horrific dungeon dive slaughterfest. Maybe the library might have a book or two about exercise and diet and high protein? Maybe Ofelia knows a halfling chemist or two that can make the ancient equivalent of protein shakes?

>>3880244
we are gonna start a training regimen with all the people we rescued. The YOLKED CRUSADE

>>3880285
You look to the rest of the humans you've pacified, now unable to defend themselves against the onslaught. More spears streak through the air, felling another two people. You call out, desperately, "Flee! Flee for your lives! These demons know nothing of Mercy!"

Pain lances your chest like a knife as you call out. Celegwen and Ray continue to pull you back as you unshoulder your shield, bringing it up before you all. You struggle with the bulk of it, emaciated as you are. The thought of shaming Flesh in such a way only makes you more determined to prove yourself to Him. ...you make a mental note to ask Ofelia if she can help you with your weight, and tighten your grip.

"Get down," you command to your companions, letting the elf lower you both to the ground so you all can take shelter behind your shield. Ray leans against you, growling viciously at your attackers and practically begging to be let at them. Celegwen leans you harder against her, sheltering herself behind the wood as a spear grazes past her head.

You say to her, as firmly as you can, "Ofelia will have heard me. We just need to buy her a little time. Stay close."

The crowd around you, parting as it is, slowly begins to disperse back the way you all came. You grimace, thinking of the waves of imps that chased you here, when you see the man you spoke to before. He seems to be taking a number of men and women by the hand, and guiding them in an entirely different direction. It's hard to make out anything in the darkness, under attack as you are, but he seems to have an idea of where he's headed. You bow your head, pleading with Mercy to keep you all safe.

The words scarcely leave your lips, and you feel Her beside you. You feel drained- terribly, terribly drained, but the relief at seeing the spears streak harmlessly past yours and Celegwen's heads is worth the effort. Shouldering your shield in one hand, you begin to fish around in your pack for a torch.

"What are you doing?" Celegwen asks, clearly scared for her life.

"Creating a distraction... so you can fight back."

She looks to you, teeth gritted, and nods.

"Start grabbing spears," you command, striking the flame. You wave the torch overhead, causing the light to blaze forth. Celegwen puts out her own staff, strapping it to her back and bolting away from you.

"OVER HERE-!" You bellow, waving the torch aloft, crouching as far down behind your shield as you can manage. At least five spears streak directly past you seconds after. You wave the flame as best as you can, letting it smolder and smoke into the ruins beyond. The ceiling here is impossibly high- you can't even tell where the ruins end. You keep your eyes fixed on the waves of humans disappearing one by one into the space beyond in the ruins, terribly relieved to see some of them escaping with their lives.

(1/3)

>>3880388
You feverishly pray, hoping against hope that Mercy will protect your own life, as you don't dare to look at your attackers beyond your limited protection. Too weak to stand, you crouch behind the thick wooden disc, nudging Ray closer behind you still. "Stay, boy," you stutter, in between prayer, begging him to stay safe, "Mercy- we'll be alright, just stay. Good boy, Ray- tolerate this transgression, guide their aim that they may be restrained- come on, Ray, stay here with me-"

You're cut short by a strange sound off in the distance. It sounds like something very, very heavy has fallen to the floor. You realize Ofelia has likely taken down one of the demons. You wave the torch frantically, daring to call out behind you, "COWARDS! COME ON! CAN'T TAKE A SINGLE PRIEST?!"

Pain spikes in your temples from raising your voice. Your desire to curl into yourself, fortunately, saves you from another javelin streaking far closer towards your body. You definitely got their attention. They seem to be aiming for the bits of your robes peeking out from the sides of the shield, too loose to properly hold against your body. Your heart is in your throat, and you continue to pray, frantically, for what feels like many long minutes. You dare to wave the torch from time to time, but the pain in your head is building rapidly and you don't dare call out again.

There's another hard crashing sound, followed by three more. After several more minutes, the pain in your head is almost too intense to see, let alone inspect what's happening. You can barely keep the torch aloft, crouched deeply behind your shield, Ray digging into you for protection- when someone taps on your shoulder.

You spin around, wide-eyed. It's Ofelia. She's up to her elbows in blood. She grins sheepishly at you. Celegwen is running up behind her, tossing aside a spear from each hand.

You lower the torch, relieved beyond words to see them both in one piece. It's obvious that the blood on the rogue's arms is not her own- it's black and full of viscera. Obviously a demon's. Her weapons are slick with it as well. She doesn't offer you a hand to get up, and neither does Celegwen. They both collapse next to you on the floor.

The halfling speaks out, first. "Got 'em."

"Yes, you did." Celegwen sighs, exhausted.

You remain silent, wincing with every syllable, your head splitting. You dare to look up behind your shield, still blocking everyone from the direction of the attack. The silhouette of four minor demons is apparent to you. Jagged knives seem to protrude from their bodies like horns. You're reminded of cacti, with how many blades poke and stagger from their bloated forms. It's impossible to tell which ones are from their own twisted bodies, and which are from Ofelia's works. They look to be bleeding out, still as stone. There are no other figures to be seen- no humans. Nothing. You breath a sigh of relief, dropping your shield and also collapsing to the ground.

(2/3)

>>3880395
"Thank you," you say aloud, partially to Ofelia, partially to Mercy, and mostly to the floor. Relief soaks into your tortured frame as you stop moving for a blessed moment.

"You're welcome," Ofelia says genuinely. "...yer gonna hate me for this, guys, but we can't stay here. There were way more up ahead. Way more. Looks like they've beefed up the security here since we last visited, Gwen."

The elf sighs. "Of course they did. Were there any safe passages this time around? Any gaps in the patrols?"

"Oh yeah." Ofelia's smile is tangible. "Richard's stunt got a good number of 'em pulled out. They're all worked up. More are comin', sure, but we got a good bit o' relief here. At least near the entrance. Not sure if you wanna just barrel in there, though. ...there's always all the side passages, but they're guarded pretty heavily. I could try and carve some of 'em up, but I'd rather have you three behind me..."

>A) Suggest that you all go in the main entrance to recover for a few minutes, then back out and take a side route. Defer to Ofelia's judgement as to what's the most manageable. You can't properly think with your head splitting the way it is.

>B) Go straight to one of the side passages. Ask Ofelia what your options are, while you have a few moments of relief. It will no doubt be difficult, but you'd rather not risk entering the front of such a heavily protected building. You can rest when you know you're somewhere safe.

>C) Go straight into the main entrance. Rest as long as you're able, and deal with whatever trouble comes your way. You'll deal with any demons or humans as they present themself- you can't think ahead when you're this tired.

>D) Write-in.

>>3880398
>D) Write-in.
"You have been here before, i trust your decisions, i am more than spent"

>>3880413
seconding

>>3880413
>>3880619
Slowing down a bit giving my hands a bit of a welcome break! 4,800+ words in five hours is no joke, damn you guys are great.

Vote is locked, writing now.

>>3880643
Slight delay on the update, will resume writing in an hour at the most. Thanks for your patience guys

>>3880699
Back to writing now. Update will be out shortly.

>>3880903
You don't even bother to sling your shield over your pack, leaving it beside you as you lay against the floor. The light of the torch flickers and grows steadily from your other hand, and it's all you can do to knit your eyes shut. The light is searing your retinas, burning your skull. Ray whines next to you, licking the sides of your robes, trying to reassure you. It's agonizing to speak, but you try to before the headache reaches critical mass. "You have... been here before. I trust your decisions... I am more than spent."

The torch flickers for a few moments in relative silence. You can hear demons scuffling far, far off in the distance, along with the trudging footsteps of the humans you released. You wonder how long the blessing will last, or if any of them will regain their sanity. You can barely think any further, as the headache lances your temples with another flash of pain. Ofelia moves to stand... and leers over you. You draw into yourself, as spent as you are. She flashes you another smile.

"I gotta' get this gunk cleaned off me sometime, and you're looking worse for the wear. Let's head inside. If anyone gives us trouble, we'll give 'em what for."

"Hopefully after a break," Celegwen's voice drags, as she moves to stand as well. "Come on, Father. On your feet."

"I'd like to, but I'll need a hand," you grimace, eyes drifting open. The light is unbearable, but being pulled to your feet or carried blindly would be far worse. You can't help but gasp in pain as Celegwen firmly grabs hold of your free hand and pulls you to your feet, shouldering you with far more ease than you're comfortable with.

Ofelia picks up your shield, pouting as Celegwen gestures for her to hand it off. They don't need to exchange any words for the elf to make it clear that the equipment is far too large for a halfling. They exchange the rest of Ofelia's gear, as you keep a hand to your skull. Celegwen takes the torch from you as well, able to support you with only one hand. She promptly puts it out, muttering, "this is going to attract far more trouble than it's worth." You can't protest, doing everything you can just to ease the building pain.

It's quiet and dark. We're moving slowly. Try to stay calm. Try not to think about who you could have saved. There's time for that... later. Keep moving. Keep it together.

You all proceed with Ofelia in the lead, Ray keeping a close eye on you and Celegwen from the rear. Celegwen, apparently, can see well in the dark, and murmurs a word of direction from time to time. You all pause in front of the enormous staircase leading up to the library. Ofelia seems to make a cursory glance around. You raise your eyes as well while she darts ahead, no doubt scouting for anyone that might spot you. Light trickles in and around the building the closer you get, impossibly illuminating the edges of it through the darkness.

(1/4, long one)

>>3881119
Towering bridges and a labyrinth of columns loom with architecture far taller than anything you have ever seen, even in the capital city. The sprawl of buildings stretches onward and upwards in either direction. You strain your neck to see the top of the foremost structure, as it looks like it digs deep into the ceiling of this portion of the ruins. You estimate this cavern is at least 100 feet tall, but you could be mistaken- there are no webs, no outlets. The torchlight vanishes long before you can properly see above you. Below stretches an abyss, punctuated by bridges. There is a deep chasm on either side of where you currently stand- you mistook the expanse for a normal floor, but it's yet another bridge, tapering onto a large staircase straight ahead. It makes no sense- you saw the escape of over 50 people across the way. You shake your head, too tired and in far too much pain to deliberate over the implications.

"The space has changed." Celegwen murmurs to you. "It's a good thing you're staying close. Ofelia may have gotten lost if you hadn't created such a distraction before as well." She offers you a slight smile.

You can't offer one back, but your grimace at least lessens a bit. You try offering a nod, and the pain in your head spikes tenfold.

Ofelia's voice ramps up the pain even further. "Is he going to make it?" The halfling catches herself, and with a little annoyance, says, "up the stairs, I mean?"

You lean hard against Celegwen, barely able to stand. It feels like a knife is being driven into the back of your skull. Her frown is palpable. "Father?"

"I'll b-be fine," you stammer, trying to get the words out as quickly as possible. You try to right yourself, even, but wind up leaning harder against Celegwen instead. She bends slightly from the effort of keeping you on your feet.

Celegwen slings your shield over your pack with a single hand. You nearly collapse from it, but she quickly shoulders you again. The sorceress takes on almost your full weight, supporting the arm holding you up with her other hand. She gives you a reassuring grimace. "You'll be fine," she repeats, as reassuringly as you think she must be capable of.

"Come on," Ofelia calls, already starting to walk ahead. She's looking off into the distance, squinting, clearly trying to make out anyone that could have followed you. "I'm sure they'll be looking for us. We'll hide once we're inside."

You don't show any indication that you hear her, frowning deeply and clutching still at your head. Your limbs and chest ache as well, but with nowhere near the same intensity. You are a master of restraint, however, and keep your complaints to yourself as you all ascend the stairs leading into the tower ahead.

(2/4)

>>3881134
Celegwen looks at you periodically as you do your best to help climb. She's practically carrying you, and Ray nips at her heels every time she starts to falter or pause. Ofelia runs back frequently, obviously also worn out, but seeming to fare well enough to check on you both. By the time you all reach the top of the steps, you're all about ready to collapse again- but the rogue darts ahead, scrutinizing the doors as closely as she's able. You hadn't even noticed them, vision hazy, mind reeling from the loss of blood and explosive pain in every inch of your body.

The halfling produces the small bag you saw earlier, and takes out a number of small tools. You see her put her gloves back on, fiddling with the grooves of the metal door. A small click causes her to jump back, and tackle you and Celegwen to the floor.

You fall back, hard, the elf cushioning most of the blow. Ray growls, immediately aggravating Ofelia's assault on you- you don't call him off, stammering, "wh-what's wrong-"

The halfling, barely able to keep you all down, looks with utter terror behind you all. The door slowly opens. She's visibly sweating, deathly pale. "Stay down."

"Ray. Down," you command. The mastiff obliges instantly, but continues his growling.

There's a faint ticking sound behind you all- and it suddenly stops. There's a very, very faint sound of something... musical?

"The fuck?" Ofelia asks, looking over her shoulder. You look up, wincing from the pain of doing so as well. You can feel Celegwen stir below you. You flush deeply, realizing how compromising your position is, sandwiched between the two women, and scramble to get off of them. Ofelia permits you to move safely aside, as she slowly walks back towards the door.

From your position on the ground, a safe distance away from them, you see the blonde scrutinizing a mechanical instrument that's come out from beneath the door. It's producing a faint noise- so faint that you suspect it wouldn't be used as an alarm.

Celegwen groans, slowly righting herself off of the floor. "What trap was worth that-"

"It's a music... box? Thing?" Ofelia whispers, seemingly afraid of it. She doesn't walk back towards you both, and you are in no shape to move towards her, so you awkwardly wait for Celegwen to get to her feet and help you up. You say to Ray, "come on, boy," as you all reconvene in the entrance to the library.

The rogue is scrutinizing a small instrument- no larger than a child's toy- that vaguely resembles an organ. You are taken with it instantly- it reminds you of the majestic instrument you've seen once before in the capital city's church. It's emitting a small noise, in a tune that you've never heard before. Celegwen looks towards it with curiosity as well, moving you both in front of the doorway. You hazard a glance inside.

(3/4)

File: Overgrown Library.jpg (1.05 MB, 1918x2009)

1.05 MB JPG

>>3881139
You gasp. You've never seen so much parchment in your life. Hundreds of books, scrolls, loose pages, and countless sagging bookshelves hug the walls and stick out from them in a room teeming with life. You immediately recognize why the humans you saw earlier were gathered here. There's running water, and greenery overflowing from the little stream running through the room. It's hard to make out the source, but the ceiling stretches on upwards, and you can see many rooms beyond. The pain in your head is hard to ignore, but you almost move ahead, pulling away slightly from Celegwen's grasp.

She lets you pull away completely, but calls out, "Hold on, Father. I know this is urgent, but this object is of great concern. Please wait just another moment."

You hang back just a moment, wavering as your frame is with exhaustion. You lean hard against the front of the building for support instead, watching her from a few feet of distance. You can't help but note how the walls are far from smooth- much like Calunoth's merchant district, the walls here are all painted. You wonder if the humans here are to blame, or someone else- but Celegwen steals your attention away. She starts to conjure something with her staff, then stops abruptly.

"What's the matter?" Ofelia pipes up, having hid behind the door.

The elf is frowning so deeply, you think you might see a single wrinkle form in her face. "I'm getting ahead of myself. Let's get inside."

You sigh in relief, and stagger forward. You catch Ofelia gingerly wrapping up the musical device in a spare handkerchief, holding it at arms length and delicately bringing it inside.

Celegwen mercifully lends you a shoulder again, leading you into the library. There's a collection of terribly moldy armchairs in a few corners, but the elf offers to help you lean against a desk instead. You collapse against it, relieved beyond words for the break. Ofelia closes the doors behind you all, and murmurs, "not yet. Get some water, Gwen, Richard. ...Ray. I'll gather some moss. There's a safer room ahead."

You genuinely don't know if you can go any further. You're desperate to explore the countless books spread out before you. Your eyes want to devour every word, every spine on every book, but you can barely make out the wood on the aged and stained desk you're leaning against now. It creaks against even your slight frame, reminding you a bit of home. You speak up.

(Options in next post)

>>3881149
>A) You need to rest. This is as fine a place as any. Ask the women to close the doors- see if Ofelia has any way she can secure them. Otherwise, offer to pray to Agriculture to grow some plant life as a makeshift barrier.

>B) You just want to grab a few books. You know there must be more in the other wings of the library- you can make out more bookshelves from here- but you're starved for knowledge. Stash as many as you can carry into your bag while the women scavenge. Push yourself to the other room and collapse there.

>C) You won't protest. Drink some water, save what you can in your own water skin, and trudge on to the safe room. There will be a time for rest, and this is not it.

>D) Write-in.

>>3881154
>C) You won't protest. Drink some water, save what you can in your own water skin, and trudge on to the safe room. There will be a time for rest, and this is not it.
SUPPLIES LOW
NEED RESUPPLY FIRST
BOOKS COME SECOND

>>3881154
>>C) You won't protest. Drink some water, save what you can in your own water skin, and trudge on to the safe room. There will be a time for rest, and this is not it.

>>3881160
>>3881231
Gonna plug on ahead with these votes! Writing now.

>>3881324
"I know our supplies are low. ...is there any way I can help-"

Ofelia's and Celegwen's faces soften a bit. The halfling says, gently, "just take care of yourself. We'll rest soon. Try to drink something."

You wince, nodding, trying to not collapse. You're embarrassed beyond all reason when you realize that you actually can't walk yourself over to the stream. You give Celegwen a pleading look, too ashamed to actually ask for any more help than she's already given. The elf gives you a small smile, shouldering you again and taking you both over by the water. The sound is heavenly- you haven't heard running water in...

How long have I been down here for?

The thought is jarring, stealing your attention away from the ruins around you. When was the last time you saw the sun? A stream? ...even moss?

Celegwen looks at you sidelong, clearly trying to not make you too uncomfortable. "Father- I know you've been through a lot. Drink. We'll rest very soon."

You blink a few times, hard, the pain in your head still pulsing as you nod to her. She's leaned you down to the floor and you hadn't even noticed. Your hands tremble as you move to cup a little water in them, but you realize they're absolutely caked with the blood and bile you produced from your prayer to Vengeance. Your stomach turns, and you reach for your water skin instead.

The stream is cold, clear, and shows no signs of pollution from any demons. You can see the water seeping into the bookshelves around you, ruining many of the pages. You make a note of the surrounding area, hoping you can come back here again. With shaking fingers, you manage to fill your waterskin without polluting the stream, and stash it away for later. You simply can't handle any more pain right now.

"Ray. Here, boy," you call, as gingerly as you can. The pain spikes every time you speak, but you manage to murmur, "...drink," and pour a good deal of water out for the hound. He wastes a great deal, but you wash your hands with the remainder of the water skin anyways. You refill it immediately when you're done rinsing off the bulk of the mess on your hands, and clean your holy symbol off for good measure.

Celegwen doesn't say a word until you're finished. "Ready?" She asks, moving to take your arm.

You hang your head a fair bit, murmuring, "yes," as she helps you once again to your feet. You hope it will be the last time.

(1/3)

File: Library.png (1.99 MB, 1920x1004)

1.99 MB PNG

>>3881451
Ofelia comes over to you both, arms absolutely brimming with greenery. She's grinning, and whispers, "finally!" You see she's shoved as much as she was able into her pack as well. The halfling practically sprints to the stream, sweeping a pot into it and scrubbing her arms down as quickly as she's able. She fills no less than 5 flasks of water, tosses them into the rest of her gear, and moves to leave. "This way," she calls, clearly excited to replenish some of your supplies. She's lagging a bit from the weight of her gear, but you and Celegwen are in no shape to help her. The both of you stagger behind, and you call Ray to your side. With a slight gesture, you motion towards Celegwen, and the mastiff gives her a bit of support as well, nudging her legs when she falters.

You all turn several corners, leaving behind the steady trickle of water. Ofelia tenses around each turn, scouting ahead, doubling back, making sure the way is clear. It's slow going, but she eventually guides you all into lower and lower ceilings, narrower and narrower chambers. There are no windows to speak of, the deeper you venture, and you know with absolute certainty you would immediately become lost were it not for her guidance. The rogue seemingly vanishes from sight, and then reappears from the side of an incredibly narrow bookshelf.

"Hidden room's still here. Looks like it was occupied for a bit. Gimme a sec."

You and Celegwen give her a look that says you couldn't stop her if you both wanted to. The blonde vanishes for a few minutes. You nervously look down the hallways in either direction, seeing no patrols to speak of. The halfling reemerges, and gestures for you all to come inside.

You kneel down slightly, gesturing for Ray to follow you. Celegwen has to release you in order to slink through, and you insist on going afterwards to make sure your dog gets through alright. She settles on staying outside while you help the mastiff into the opening.

On the other side lies a small network of bookshelves. Ladders lay stacked along the walls, climbing up to a ceiling that's altogether too short for your liking. Your hair practically scrapes the top of it, matted as it is with blood, and you duck slightly as you enter for comfort's sake. Ofelia is already setting up shop near the back of the room.

You can barely move, exhausted as you are. Ray lean into you, and you put a hand on him while you wait for Celegwen. She manages to slide into the small entryway with far more difficulty than you had, keeping her chest down as best as she's able. The elf is flustered as she reemerges next to you all, but she still offers you assistance in getting to a decent resting place.

You both kneel down next to Ofelia, and you immediately lay out against your pack, not even bothering to take it off. Ofelia chuckles, but can't possibly be as relieved as you are.

(2/3)

>>3881454
"Get some rest, Richard. I'll keep the first watch while you all sleep."

You barely hear the last few words, as you're already unconscious.

-----

https://youtu.be/RNXx26pRtcg

You stir, being shaken awake once again. Someone's whispering at you as loudly... as one can whisper.

"Richard. Richard! I don't know why I always have to be the one to do this shit- RICHARD!"

You wave a hand, a gentle burn searing your arm from the overuse of your limbs. You mumble, heavy with sleep, "what? What is it?"

"Richard, I know you like to sleep like the dead and all, but we can't stay here forever. It's been a several hours. Hope that's enough."

You frown, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, blearily adjusting to the low light around you. Your headache seems to have finally subsided. Before you can get your bearings, Ofelia shoves a handful of food at you.

"You're not gonna' like this either, but we're not readin' 'til you eat."

Impossibly, your frown deepens even further. You can feel the halfling's scrutiny as you take the package from her hands.

"I did mean to ask you something," you say softly, looking around now that you're waking up properly. Ray is sleeping soundly at your feet, and Celegwen seems to be in a trance as well. They both were clearly also spent.

"Why didn't you wake both of them?" Your frown is going to be permanently etched into your face at this rate.

"Ray can't read and Gwen carried you up here. Eat. ...and is that really what ya' wanted to ask me...? Jeez-"

You continue stalling. "No. I... I want to take better care of myself. I was hoping... I was wondering if you could help me? I'm worried about Flesh-"

Just as Ofelia starts to smile, she lets out a groan.

"You'd probably like him," you hazard, trying to get her support. "His most faithful adherents treat their bodies as their place of worship. I... I could learn a thing or two from them. From you," you offer, looking at her earnestly.

She gives you a firm look. She looks back down to the food in your hands, untouched.

"Start with that. I'll see what I can do."

You take a deep breath, and slowly work at the wrap. It's just boiled leaves, moss, and other edible plant life that you can't quite identify. It's completely tasteless and feels like glass going down. You try and tell yourself that it's worth it, acutely aware of how gaunt and angular every inch of you has become. It's slow going, but you manage the entire thing. You're choking down as much water as you can manage, when the halfling pushes more into your hands. You can practically feel the halfling glaring at you, but she at least is kind enough to not say anything.

(Options in next post)

>>3881457
>A) Pace yourself a lot more slowly. Try talking a bit to Ofelia while you eat. She's trying to help you- even if it hurts, you know this is for your own good.
>A1) Ask her about herself. You barely know her.
>A2) Ask her about her time in the ruins. She sounds like she's been down here significantly longer than anyone other than Celegwen.
>A3) Ask her about Celegwen. They seem to be extremely close- the halfling no doubt knows a lot about her.

>B) Take the food with you while you look through the bookshelves. Try to eat while you read. Maybe it will take your mind enough off of things enough to make the pain manageable.

>C) Respectfully give the rest of the greens back to Ofelia. It might be all you have, but nothing is worth the amount of pain you've dealt with lately. Ask her if she knows of any good recipes she can share with you once you're out of the ruins, and get to searching the shelves.

>D) Write-in.

>>3881460
>A) Pace yourself a lot more slowly. Try talking a bit to Ofelia while you eat. She's trying to help you- even if it hurts, you know this is for your own good.
>A1) Ask her about herself. You barely know her.
Also ask her about recipes somewhere in the convo.

>>3881460
>>B) Take the food with you while you look through the bookshelves. Try to eat while you read. Maybe it will take your mind enough off of things enough to make the pain manageable.
We paid the price of a mile to get here we should spend every waking second inhaling books and scrolls, we can chat with ofelia when we get the fuck out of this shithole, mercy willing.

>>3881710
>>3881641
Noted guys. Leaving the vote open while I get some sleep.

Thanks so much to everyone for the welcome reception back and the awesome participation. We'll resume our normal update schedule for the rest of the thread: afternoons and evenings EST. Be back soon!

>>3881460
>>A) Pace yourself a lot more slowly. Try talking a bit to Ofelia while you eat. She's trying to help you- even if it hurts, you know this is for your own good.
Talk about cooking and theoretical recipes you could inhale

>>3881460
see >>3881710
I N H A L E
C O D E X E S

>>3881710
This.

>>3881460
>A) Pace yourself a lot more slowly. Try talking a bit to Ofelia while you eat. She's trying to help you- even if it hurts, you know this is for your own good.
>A1) Ask her about herself. You barely know her.
Know your party before venturing forth!
Books you can read later, but every second you go about without knowing your party is a danger to you and them

>>3881641
>>3881710
>>3881830
>>3881851
>>3882275
Good shit guys. Can't quite do all of these simultaneously but I'll work 'em together best as I can. Vote is locked- writing now.

>>3882294
Fuck I missed this 10 seconds before posting. I'll get you in there too.

>>3882300
The hundreds of books lining the walls are infinitely more appealing than anything you could normally discuss, but this is a rare opportunity to learn something from your companion. The very little you know about Ofelia and Celegwen hasn't been much of a concern, but it looks like you all will be traveling together at some length... and you are here to document your findings. You set down the food Ofelia keeps shoving at you for a moment, and fish out your journal. You can practically hear her deflate. Your voice is very low, and you don't look over your shoulder as you ask, "...would you accompany me, while I look over these shelves?"

Grimacing, you tuck your journal under your arm, and take a bundle of greens in one of your free hands. With the other, you help yourself to your feet. Your limbs still ache, but the sleep seems to have done wonders for your body and mind. Your frown persists as you slowly work through the food, moving towards the shelves. Ofelia seems to perk right back up as she follows you, your effort to follow her advice plain to see.

"I know you came here to search for a cure of your own... but I don't know very much about... you." The books give you an easy excuse to avoid eye contact as you start, glancing away from her. You hope that you don't sound too awkward as you try to broach the conversation. You're terribly unused to speaking to others at any length like this. As your eyes wander, you see tomes ranging from slender and fairly new to hulking volumes that are clearly straining the wood that they rest upon.

You have so many questions.

Ofelia, coming up barely to the side of your hip as you stand together, looks up at you as she replies, "there's not much to say." The sass seems to be entirely absent from her voice. "I've done a lot- been a whole lotta places- but I don't got a lot to me, Richard." Her voice gets very distant as she continues, "ya' think that's why that cold demon mostly left me alone?"

You can't help but shake your head, tearing your eyes away for a moment from some of the thicker tomes. The books are haphazard, clearly unorganized- it seems like a shot in the dark to locate specific information. Of the few titles you can make out in your own tongue, you see Classical Diction and Magicke of Yeast and Time sitting right alongside Glory & Magnificence of the Wilds and 151 Illustrated Seaxes. You pick the last tome off of the shelf- it's small and slender, the pages relatively unharmed by time save for a thick coat of dust along the edges. You offer the book out in response to her question, silently flipping open a few pages.

The halfling's eyes light up. The book is illustrated, just as the cover advertised, with depictions of exotic and mundane blades from various corners of the world. As Ofelia's face brightens, you whisper back to her, "not a lot to you?"

(1/3)

>>3882584
She leans over, and gingerly takes the book from you, completely enamored with the pages. She flips through them eagerly, saying quietly, "...this is incredible! Okay. ...you know I got a way with knives. Ain't seen nothin' like this before... I make due with what we can find, and the bit I got from home, but this..."

You lean in, inspecting the entry she's pouring over. The weapon on the page seems to almost jump off of it, reflecting and refracting light onto the reader. It lights up the area around you both- you can't help but murmur, "This is useful. Keep that page open. ...if I'm not being too forward, why are you so adept with them? It's extremely unusual for a woman- let alone a halfling, to be so..."

Ofelia follows closely behind, using the illustration as a makeshift light as you continue pouring over the shelves. She doesn't seem offended as she answers, "it's unusual, yeah. All o' my sisters are family types. Couldn't get their hands dirty if their lives depended on it, y'know? ...but they're doin' somethin' I can't, too. Sittin' around, waitin', actin' all nice and proper. Manners and bowin' and all that mess. I wanted to help in other ways. My Pa wasn't very understandin' at first, but after enough years o' the work, he came around. I wouldn't take no for an answer, if you understand my meaning. ...I worked real hard to get to where I am now."

You have no idea how to reply. You offer a nod in acknowledgement, at least, still looking for anything that might help you and your cause.

You're rapidly realizing how impossible it would be to search through every tome, let alone translate them. Estate & Economy, Charting the Unknown, and Properties of Matter & Air all leer at you with their gilded spines and withered pages. You move to fish out your journal and pen, but you pause a moment. The halfling's eyes are boring into the untouched food in your hands. Badly wanting to not offend her, you try to work at the wrap. Rather than slowly pick at it, you try inhaling the contents outright. The pain is immediate and intense, but it's at least over with quickly.

You're immediately plied with more food. You'd sigh, but the sharp pain in your throat and stomach makes any sound difficult. Reluctantly, you take the bundle from Ofelia. You notice that she's being unusually quiet. It's not only from how softly you're both speaking, either. She does eventually pipe up, saying, "I hope it isn't too awful. The food. ...I'm used to cookin' outdoors, but it was too risky to make a proper fire in here."

"It's-" you cough, despite how hard you're trying to restrain yourself. It takes you a minute to regain your composure, but you continue, "it's fine. ...I've told you before, it's no fault of your own. I imagine... you can do a lot better with a proper kitchen?"

She beams, "'course I can."

(2/3)

File: Ofelia's Buckwheat Honeyc(...).png (3.07 MB, 2000x1597)

3.07 MB PNG

>>3882593
Pouring over the shelves, strange runic alphabets and a few tomes that are decidedly Elvish glare back at you. You make a note to have Celegwen look over them. You clear your throat a few times before offering, "I'm willing to bet there are some recipes buried in here. ...do you have any favorites, Ofelia?"

The halfling's eyes gleam. "There's a buckwheat honeycake recipe that I'm a pro at makin'. It's so much better if you let it sit out overnight, so all the spices come together." She leans in, and winks at you, saying, "I always add brandy to mine."

You chew at the greens in your hand, trying to pretend that it's as good as what she's describing. The pain doesn't abate, but it's a welcome change to have some positive associations with food. "That sounds... really nice. Maybe you could copy it down for me?"

The blonde could not look any more delighted as you offer her a blank page of your journal. She eagerly writes down the ingredients. Your frown deepens a bit, as she clearly has no idea how to use your pen and presses altogether too firmly on the parchment. Restrained as always, you take the barely legible page back graciously and without much criticism.

"Your handwriting is a little heavy, but this looks wonderful," you say dryly, choking down more of the vegetables. Ofelia can't help but laugh.

"Very funny. Try not to sound so excited!" She reaches up to jab you lightly on the side of your arm.

"Really. Thank you," you whisper, letting the ink dry properly before closing the journal.

"...hope you get the chance to try it one day. I'll uh, leave you to the books. Let me know if you find anythin' interestin', 'kay?"

She shoves a few more pieces of food at you before turning to go.

"Ofelia," you whisper as loudly as you dare, grabbing her attention once more. Your eyes grazed over a heavy tome, dog-eared and adorned in an attention-grabbing blue. Belbaina's Cookbook looks handwritten- you fetch it off of the top shelf, where the halfling no doubt never would have seen it. Said halfling comes back over, her eyes going wide as you hand the book off to her. "I could use your help searching. Maybe we can look through this later? Let's wake up Celegwen and get to work."

She nods enthusiastically. "Sure- though I don't have the faintest idea what we could be lookin' for."

Your eyes pour over the shelves covering the small room you're occupying. Periodically, you've heard footsteps off in the distance. You can't imagine you can cover ever book here, especially given how precious time is, but maybe you can focus your search.

(Options in next post)

>>3882601
>A) Search for the oldest tomes you can find. A holy relic is, no doubt, something that has been around for a terribly long time. Look through books on...
>A1) Religion. Mercy has been worshiped by many humans before you.
>A2) History. There is much to be learned from what has already transpired.
>A3) Prophecy. Perhaps someone else has heard of your search.

>B) Search for the newest tomes you can find. You need current information, as recent as you can get. There's no use digging around with outdated information. You need to look for...
>B1) Wealth. Any note of someone coming into an object of great value.
>B2) Corcaea, above-ground. The Church of Mercy itself.
>B3) Corcaea, below-ground. Any information that could pertain to the ruins.

>C) Write-in.

>>3882606
>>B3) Corcaea, below-ground. Any information that could pertain to the ruins.

>>3882606
>B3) Corcaea, below-ground. Any information that could pertain to the ruins.
WHERE IS IT
WHERE'S THE CURE
YOU FUCKING TOLD ME THERE'D BE A CURE TO STUPIDITY SOMEWHERE IN THESE SHITTY DARKEST DUNGEON RIPOFF RUINS
WHERE IS IT

>>3882606
>A2) History. There is much to be learned from what has already transpired.
THIS TOO
MALIMOS SAID SHIT ABOUT THE DISTANT PAST BEFORE ALARIC, WHAT'S THAT ALL ABOUT???

>>3882606
>A1

>>3882616
>>3882624
>>3882630
>>3882642
Going to do some math homework and then I'll knock out another update. Vote is still open until I get back.

>>3882894
Took me a lot less time than I suspected it would! Writing now.

>>3883038
"Anything regarding the ruins," you say plainly, "anything pertaining to our mission. Look for the oldest codexes you can find... have Celegwen search through anything in a tongue you don't recognize. We'll cover more ground if we divide the search."

Ofelia nods, turning briskly to go wake the elf. You flip through a great number of the items on the shelves, taking care to not bend any spines, gently placing each book back where you found it. A few particularly colorful books stand out, but one looks substantially newer than the rest. The writing on the spine is self-indulgent to an extreme, wrapping around the cover. You pull it off the shelf to examine the intact book in full.

The title reads, simply, On History. Upon opening it, you immediately make a face. It's even worse on the interior- flowery illustrations and decadent script detail gross exaggerations of Corcaea. You flip through the first few chapters quickly, reading as fast as you're able through the purple descriptions of King Magnus... and King Vaughn, King Frederick, King Samuel, and King Thaddeus before him. You have never even heard of the last two, and your curiosity is piqued. You try to skim what you do recognize.

"His Vengeance hath taken from us. And unto his holiness we doth profess the most suffering, as thine visage looke upon the blasted Aerth, thine spoilt grain, and our hearts doth weep for thine people." You wince, trying to eat a little more while you read, grateful as you are to even have the choice now. In between mouthfuls you continue, "...owe to his divine reflexion we doth offer our flesh, 'i this, the hour of our reckoning... profligation of our impulses most shameful might not but now be taken unto his essence, eradicating our manifestations forevermore."

Your voice is hardly a whisper as you read a few more entries aloud to yourself. How have you never heard of these men? "Immutable though the darkness may be, still we seek illumination. Through His Spirit, we have attained peace. There is nought left, but we must endure..."

You can't help but make a sound, practically choking on your food. "...and up from the earth did they come. Titans, great and terrible. ...winged and feathered were their offspring and yet coarse and chromatic were they. Lapidated, they fell deep within the place of their birth, heralds of the King..."

A faint sigh escapes from your teeth as you try to contain your distaste, assuming that the remainder is as fanciful. You flip through a few more pages. "...did tumble and quake a storm so fierce that none doth withstand it... cleaving the land in twain, rending Desolation from that which we now call home... creatures of the sky and earth, whomst reside now on the Throne of Ellor..."

(1/?)

>>3883245
Your frown deepens. This is all nonsense. You flip to the back of the book, trying to gauge just how fanciful it gets. There's an illustration of a man, towering above a castle, raising his hands to the sky. "A fairytale-" you mumble, scrutinizing the pages. The banner underneath the figure catches you off-guard, however. It reads, "Causes of War."

You scrutinize the figure very, very carefully. The man reminds you a fair bit of an elf, but looks terribly familiar. You can't pin how the face reminds you of King Magnus, but the resemblance is uncanny. You go back through the book, scrutinizing the previous entries on each King listed from the last Age- sure enough, they appear almost identical, save for their garments and facial hair. Your frown deepens further, not entirely wanting to chalk this up to a poor illustrator. You flip back through the earlier entries on Corcaea, where the children's stories seem to at least hold some weight. There's talk of a trade route that once ran from the northern continent to where you currently reside- which is impossible, as there is an ocean to the north of the country. Legend written deep in the pages tells of a civilization eclipsed in darkness, wasting away under a red moon, that could only be saved by the return of the Gods. More fanciful yet, are talks of a time when men determined their own fate, existing before the other races, before the Gods exerted their will over the world. ...worse still are the talks of marriage between King Frederick and his many devotees, in the name of worshiping Flesh. You blush deeply, closing the book with a thud, unable to read any more falsehoods.

You slide the tome back onto the shelf and continue your search. You keep your eyes peeled on the topmost shelf, where Ofelia and Celegwen will no doubt have issue spotting anything of interest, but you also search for any books regarding the Church of Mercy. You can at least recognize the name in several other tongues, and hope to spot something of use. Your eyes linger over multiple books that look to be of use, over what must be another hour of searching. You remove Faiths & Heresies of the Old World, Treatise on the Merciful, an old pamphlet that is clearly religious gospel, and an ancient diary that looks to have Her symbol etched into the spine.

You flip over the pamphlet first, easy enough as it is to read. It looks to be written by a woman, thanks to the delicate script, and lists a number of Mercy's tenets along with methods of observing Her. You fondly tuck it into the side of your journal before flipping open the diary.

You drop it from your hands immediately. The cover appears to be made of a thick, human leather, "LIES" etched into the dried flesh in a harsh script. It falls open as it hits the floor. You can't help but grasp onto your holy symbol, looking around and at the book, expecting something dreadful.

(2/?)

>>3883249
No one seems to stir, other than Ofelia and Celegwen moving through the shelves closer to the entrance of the room. Silence pervades the library. Nervously, you move to catch the book with the side of your shoe to close it, but your heart drops.

Inside the pages is obviously the writings- the musings- the confessions of a mad man. The handwriting is already frenetic on the page, and it rapidly escalates into viciousness. Love and obsession clearly drove him to the brink. You realize you may be looking at a chronicle of someone taken by the Catalyst.

Gingerly, you pick the book back up and tuck in under your arm, alongside your own journal. This could be crucial for your research, when you have more time.

You flip through Treatise on the Merciful quickly. The pages are all etched in the margins by bored priests. You can't help but be slightly amused by them, admiring the caricatures drawn in the margins alongside their notes. "We've run out of wine. These copies will take much longer. Oh, my hand. Let the reader's voice honor the writer's pen."

The contents of the Treatise itself are miserable. Full of criticism of Mercy and Her practitioners, it paints a scathing image of the Church. You practically want to burn it, but out of respect for the men who penned the book you slide it back onto the shelf.

The last book, Faiths & Heresies of the Old World, looks far more promising. Crudely written, you paraphrase a few interesting entries as you start reading from the top. It looks to be an account of lost gods, detailing an elaborate pantheon for halfling society that encompassed every grain, tree, rock and animal. The sacrilege of elven society is elaborated on at great length, detailing accounts of divine punishment throughout human history towards their people, and the animosity it brewed between your cultures. You suspect that the historical relevancy is a little outdated, reading further on a number of peoples who worship a God of ice deep to the south, and a fertility culture on an island far beyond the coasts of Corcaea. More interesting to you than any of this are ancient accounts of worship of your own pantheon. It eerily mirrors your own experiences.

"Upon prayer to the God did our most devoted suffer... most hideously... from the mouth and eyes... they could not be saved..." you cringe, flipping ahead, looking for anything relevant to your quest. There is an entire chapter on Mercy, though the information is terribly outdated. You scrutinize the tome more carefully. It's large and rather heavy, but you decide to take it with you as well. You hardly have anything in your pack at the moment, and assume it won't be any trouble for the time being.

Ofelia nearly scares you half to death, speaking up suddenly. She's standing right next to you, though you didn't hear her approach. "You're going to ruin your eyes," she teases, "and your heart at this rate, too."

(3/?)

File: Architecture of the City (...).jpg (87 KB, 573x357)

87 KB JPG

>>3883257
You give her a tired glance, letting your pulse calm down as you whisper, "any luck?"

"Yeah. Couple a things. I don't know how the hell Gwen knows so many languages. Guess she hasn't forgotten everything. Come take a look."

Snaking back through the piles of books that Ofelia has clearly left in her wake, you resist the urge to put them all back before rejoining Celegwen. Ray is still sleeping beside her, clearly having been exhausted. You set down the remaining food you couldn't finish next to him, but he doesn't stir. You make note to wake him properly once you're done searching.

Celegwen is absolutely surrounded with books, parchment, scrolls and journals, each one seemingly older than the last. She looks up to you with a slight smile.

"Good to see you on your feet," she says genuinely.

It's frustrating how timid your voice sounds as you reply, "...I couldn't have made it... without your help." You try and tell yourself it's because you're all speaking so quietly, as you continue, "...I see you've been busy."

The elf offers you a seat next to her. "Yes. I don't know how much help this will be, but we've found an absurd amount of information regarding the ruins. It's mostly historical accounts of what these buildings were once for, but I hope there will be something of greater use for you in their pages."

You look over the stacks of books around her, bewildered. "How much have you been able to translate so far?"

She proudly smiles at you as she says, "five pages."

Straining to keep your calm, you ask, "of which book...?"

The sorceress holds it up to the light, coming of course from the book you found for Ofelia earlier. Celegwen reads, slowly, "Architecture of the City of Lights, Ostedholm.. I suspect this is our current location."

"What has it said...?"

"There was a lengthy introduction, crediting the architects of the city. I believe I am halfway through it."

You take a deep breath, fiddling nervously with your holy symbol with your free hand. This isn't going to work. At least you seem to be on the right track.

(Options in next post)

>>3883265
>A) Target books that are on the layout of the ruins. You suspect that if a holy relic is in a place this miserable that it would be heavily protected, or at least not easily accessed. If nothing else, you might learn how to better navigate out of your current position. Maps don't require nearly as much translation- no doubt you can make faster work of them. You can even make out a few maps that the women have found on loose-leaf parchment from here.

>B) Ask Celegwen if she can dissipate the books that aren't related to the relic. She got a fair amount of rest- surely she's up to it. Though the thought of destroying so many priceless works of literature cuts you deeply, your search is for an object greater than all of them combined.

>C) Pray to Mercy for guidance. You can recognize that searching this single room likely won't turn up any more results, and it sounds like the patrols are back outside. You'd hate to invoke Her for something so small, but the only thing more precious than your resources right now is your time.

>D) Write-in.

>>3883268
>A) Target books that are on the layout of the ruins. You suspect that if a holy relic is in a place this miserable that it would be heavily protected, or at least not easily accessed. If nothing else, you might learn how to better navigate out of your current position. Maps don't require nearly as much translation- no doubt you can make faster work of them. You can even make out a few maps that the women have found on loose-leaf parchment from here.

>>3883268
>>A) Target books that are on the layout of the ruins. You suspect that if a holy relic is in a place this miserable that it would be heavily protected, or at least not easily accessed. If nothing else, you might learn how to better navigate out of your current position. Maps don't require nearly as much translation- no doubt you can make faster work of them. You can even make out a few maps that the women have found on loose-leaf parchment from here.

>>3883268
>A) Target books that are on the layout of the ruins. You suspect that if a holy relic is in a place this miserable that it would be heavily protected, or at least not easily accessed. If nothing else, you might learn how to better navigate out of your current position. Maps don't require nearly as much translation- no doubt you can make faster work of them. You can even make out a few maps that the women have found on loose-leaf parchment from here.
>B) Ask Celegwen if she can dissipate the books that aren't related to the relic. She got a fair amount of rest- surely she's up to it. Though the thought of destroying so many priceless works of literature cuts you deeply, your search is for an object greater than all of them combined.
Come on people, delegate! There is no reason we can't do both.

>>3883268
>Invoke Spirit to grasp the contents of all the books as rapidly as your mind can take.
Time for some high octane BOOK INHALING

>>3883268
>A) Target books that are on the layout of the ruins. You suspect that if a holy relic is in a place this miserable that it would be heavily protected, or at least not easily accessed. If nothing else, you might learn how to better navigate out of your current position. Maps don't require nearly as much translation- no doubt you can make faster work of them. You can even make out a few maps that the women have found on loose-leaf parchment from here.
Also seconding>>3883520
We are in shape and have frens for emotional support to deal with spirit i don't see why not make the most of our time here.

>>3883520
THIRDING for INHAAAAAAAALE

>>3883268
>A

>>3883268
>>A) Target books that are on the layout of the ruins. You suspect that if a holy relic is in a place this miserable that it would be heavily protected, or at least not easily accessed. If nothing else, you might learn how to better navigate out of your current position. Maps don't require nearly as much translation- no doubt you can make faster work of them. You can even make out a few maps that the women have found on loose-leaf parchment from here.

>>3883369
>>3883452
>>3883499
>>3883520
>>3883613
>>3883621
>>3883694
>>3883718
Blessed voters, what a thing to come home to. Done with classes for the day, gonna blast this post and hopefully get a few more updates out today! Vote is locked, going to combine all this. Writing now.

>>3883897
Looking to the loose-leaf maps littering the piles of parchment, you say to Celegwen, "I know this sounds crazy... but is there any way you can dissipate all of the books that don't pertain to the relic, its maps, the ruins, and the Church of Mercy?"

The sorceress blanches, obviously upset by the suggestion. "That would be nearly everything."

You nod, looking equally distraught. "I know."

Celegwen looks to her staff, propped up next to one of the ladders beside her, and the many books beyond. "It would be a terrible waste- but I assume these books can't possibly all be saved or preserved."

Ofelia groans. "Fuckin' scholars. Get on with it! The patrols are back... I don't think we can stay here much longer."

You give a pleading look to Celegwen. A long moment passes between you two, but it seems to do the trick.

"It's for a good cause," the elf rationalizes. "I will try. Please, stand back."

Quickly, you rise to your feet and nudge Ray awake. The mastiff wakes immediately, happily licking you and then seeing the food laid out for him. You drag the bundles of leaves and moss away from the stacks of books, leading your dog a safe distance away. You give him a brief command to stay as Ofelia creeps over by the entrance you all came in from, clearly keeping watch.

https://youtu.be/lYqOKw5NzY0

With a grand gesture, Celegwen takes her staff and rises, sweeping her arms and the gnarled wood over the piles of books laid out before her. Darkness engulfs the pages, twisting and warping the space around every painstakingly written word. You cannot discern the language the elf is speaking as she methodically utters her incantation, but it doesn't matter. You can see the pages disappearing before your eyes. One by one, the stacks of books begin to slide and crumble onto one another- you almost reach out to stop them from falling, but you realize that they aren't making a sound, even as they collapse into the void.

The darkness seeping out of Celegwen's weapon spreads further, down the myriad shelves and stacks that Ofelia left in her search. Hundreds of tomes are consumed, leaving only starlight in their wake. You watch, awe-struck, as Celegwen finishes the spell, dragging all of the remaining tomes from their shelves and into piles surrounding you both.

The sorceress gives you a broad smile, leaning hard against her staff as she ends the incantation. The starlight fades. There are no less than 100 books remaining. The stacks stand nearly as tall as you both. Ofelia looks like she wants to do a slow clap, but stops herself. "Very impressive," she whispers, "but how the fuck are we going to get through all of them?"

(1/4)

>>3884017
You give Ray a pat on his side, and look up to the halfling. "I'll take care of it. Thank you, Celegwen," you murmur, averting your eyes to the remaining books. There's a colossal stack of papers containing only maps, another with many books detailing only religion, and several more on architecture and the study of history.

Ofelia and Celegwen both look at you nervously as you knit your fingers together. You glance to them both with equal hesitation. "I'll be alright," you say as reassuringly as you can.

The halfling crosses her arms, whispering with a good deal of irritation, "sure. And what do you suppose you'll have to clean up after this?"

"My Spirit," you reply, closing your eyes and bowing you head. "...nothing more."

You don't see or hear anything in the silence of the study. You bring your hands close to your chest, leaning into the prayer as you speak out to the Goddess. You keep your voice a whisper, but can't help pouring yourself into each word.

"Spirit. ...I have strayed far from your path. Guide me. Take from me once more. Grant me your sight, that I may learn. Grant me your essence, that I might strengthen my own. Aid me! Through the wisdom of the immaterial, restore my most essential being-! My mind. My soul. Lend me your eyes. Lend me your Spirit!"

White light streaks through your veins. From the tips of your fingers, the brightness snakes around your arms, up beyond your robes, around your neck, through every pore and into your eyes. You glow with divinity, feeling the Goddess within you as you look out onto the stacks of knowledge.

You can see everything.

The information flows into you.

You see it clearly now. Every path, every winding corridor. The labyrinth that is the lost city of lights. The history of a people who worshiped Mercy's radiance, and integrated it into their being. Those who wished to use Her gifts for selfish purposes. A bloated hive of humans, unable to understand the meaning of restraint. Those who built until they collapsed under the weight of their own hubris.

There are holes- huge holes in the knowledge spread out before you. You know the interior of the buildings, the layout of their foundations, the strange systems of pipes for water coursing through many places once used as homes or sites of worship- but you do not know how they fell. There are holes, and it bothers you deeply, as the information courses into your veins, into your mind, into your Spirit.

You lean into Her gift, needing more. Your head feels fit to burst, as exhausting as it is to take in so much information at once- you can barely contain the labyrinth in your mind, but you need more. There are levels below the city. Great caverns, that were excavated and explored. Prisons made to contain those who fell from Her light, and were unfit to see it. Grand stretches of open air, underground gardens, and countless demons...

(2/4)

>>3884021
...you wish to stop the intake of information, but you can't. More knowledge floods into you, of the fall of Ostedholm. Consumed by demons, madness, and the depths of the Aerth. You see the true name of the very world you reside in. You know the Aerth has taken in many more civilizations. You know there is mention, countless mention, of other ruins. Other homes. Other prisons.

The ruins are not just prisons. You unclasp your hands, bringing them to the sides of your skull, as if you could keep your head from splitting from all the information being poured into it. Maps upon maps brought back by explorers and travelers who wished to see the world. Men such as yourself, seeking knowledge, seeking answers. Looking for a cure.

Tell of objects, great and terrible, brought together, housed in the greatest font of knowledge that this country had known in an age. Stashed away beneath the depths of a tremendous library, a testament to mankind's works. Ran and looked after by the devout, the wise, the sane- until the bitter end.

Until the Catalyst.

You take a knee, still clutching at your head, and try to repress a scream as the information continues flowing into you. You manage to hiss, "stop, please-"

There's still more. There's so much more. More history, more ruins. Snaking and winding under half of the country, deeper than the tallest buildings within the capital, more dangerous than anything you could hope to encounter on the surface. ...as reported by these men, as written by these survivors. The Catalyst worked its way through, taking them, robbing them of their humanity. Each and every last one of them.

You fall to both knees, curling into yourself, begging, "stop. Stop. Stop."

Drawings, murals, diagrams- painted on the walls of the ruins. Stories told by the survivors, before and after they turned. There are books written by demons in here, those intelligent enough and sadistic enough to wish to chronicle their exploits. Gratuitous descriptions of their methods, their murder, their madness. Your head feels beyond the point of bursting. You can't help but moan, trying to contain all of the information, begging Spirit to release you.

Spirit is not Merciful. ...but she does listen.

You feel Her leave you, the white flooding from your eyes and veins abating. It's a slow process, as She drains away from your body, leaving every inch of you feeling empty. The pain in your head subsides almost instantly, replaced by a vacant, cloying, nothing.

Ray is already at your side. You hadn't noticed him, but you wrap your arms around him instantly. The mastiff leans into you as you try not to sob.

Celegwen and Ofelia both walk over. The halfling speaks out first. "...Richard?"

(3/4)

>>3884023
You are too overwhelmed to speak, and don't respond. You can hear footsteps just a few yards away, in the hallway outside the room you're in. You know every corridor, every path leading through the building. The hallways are designed to shift as needed, enchanted to completely reorient themselves weekly. You know that the demons in this area are newer than the ones you read of, and must have been turned from humans that had explored down here and fell to the Catalyst. You know nothing of the demons you've encountered before, of the passages leading to this place, of the strange space leading up to it, of Malimos, of anyone, of anything, but... you know with absolute certainty that if this place contains the Relic, that it will be in its depths.

You clutch onto Ray, burying your face in his fur, utterly embarrassed but unable to help yourself. You need the comfort. The mastiff patiently leans back against you with no protest. Your entire being feels like a vase that's been overfilled and then shattered to pieces. It's almost more than you can stand to sit upright, kneeling as you are on the floor. You cringe away from the stares of both women and murmur, "please don't look at me."

There's a slight sound as they both obviously shift in place. You don't look up to confirm if they listened. Celegwen's voice speaks out.

"Do you need anything, Father? Is there any way I can help?"

Ofelia chimes in, "yeah. Seriously."

>A) Refuse any help. Try and compose yourself. Show some restraint, shove down the building anxiety, and let the women know that you know how to get to the lowest levels of the ruins. This is no time to break down.

>B) Talk a little to Ofelia and Celegwen. You've had brushes with death almost on a daily basis for weeks, and you're barely surviving. Vent a little, and see if it helps. They've been nothing but understanding- you're sure it would be alright, even if it's hard.

>C) Ask for some time to yourself. You need to sort out your thoughts on your own. Spirit challenges you in a way no other God does- and you rarely, if ever, rise to the occasion. See if a little space and self-recovery will do you some good before you set out again.

>D) Write-in.

>>3884024
>B) Talk a little to Ofelia and Celegwen. You've had brushes with death almost on a daily basis for weeks, and you're barely surviving. Vent a little, and see if it helps. They've been nothing but understanding- you're sure it would be alright, even if it's hard.
Fuck Spirit's bullshit. We need to talk and reach out to stay sane damnit.

>>3884024
>B) Talk a little to Ofelia and Celegwen. You've had brushes with death almost on a daily basis for weeks, and you're barely surviving. Vent a little, and see if it helps. They've been nothing but understanding- you're sure it would be alright, even if it's hard.

>>3884024
>B

>>3884024
Talk a little about what you just learned, more how you feel about it than what. They can deal with making sense of it one piece at a time.

>>3884056
>>3884060
>>3884084
>>3884108
Pretty much unanimous, nice write-ins. Locking the vote, writing now!

Hell yeah, probably will get 3 updates in today at least. A little something to listen to while you guys are waiting.

https://youtu.be/vKLHnrNM2Gs

>>3884184
You pull yourself away from Ray slightly, still keeping an arm around him to reassure yourself. He whines, licking the side of your robes, clearly wanting to help. You hold him closer, and dare to glance over to Celegwen and Ofelia. They were absolutely still staring at you. Having been found out, they both immediately begin inspecting the walls of the library. You wince, drawing back into yourself. The thought of anyone seeing you is unbearable. The words of the clergy cling to the back of your mind, exhausted as it is.

Ugly son of a bitch.

No better than a demon.

Ofelia tries again, "Richard. I know you're upset. Can you please talk to me? To us?"

"I feel helpless," you murmur, bringing your legs up to your chest rather than kneeling. Ray leans against you, whining still.

"You looked pretty damn cool, like, just a minute or two ago-" Ofelia starts, but you hear Celegwen firmly punch her in the arm.

The elf seems to walk over towards you. You dart your eyes back over for a moment, and see that she's sitting a short distance away. Ofelia quickly comes over to join her. You turn your face away again, ashamed of yourself.

"Why, Father?"

The kindness hanging off of Celegwen's voice somehow makes you feel worse. "I don't deserve for you both to be so... so kind. I don't deserve the Gods' blessing. I can't save any of these people."

The elf presses you further. "Is that not what we're here for?"

You take a long pause, battling the urge to not break down. You draw both of your arms around your legs, and Ray immediately is against you, nudging his head under your arm. You allow him to, the close contact easing the emptiness in a minuscule way. Your chest aches. "There was no mention of the relic. I don't even know if what we're looking for is here. It doesn't matter. I... I could read every book in this Gods-forsaken place, and it wouldn't bring back..."

Your voice catches in your throat. You put your head down, continuing through choked words, "...all the people who were lost here. We've been walking through a graveyard... and fighting people who didn't even know what they were doing wrong. Everything is wrong. I can't cure them. I can't heal what's happened here. I don't even know what I'm doing- there's so much that I don't know, and yet... it feels like the more I learn, the worse off I am-"

A sob starts to catch in your throat. Ofelia mercifully speaks over the sound, scooting a little closer but still keeping fair distance. "You didn't know. ...and you've been fightin' for your life. You haven't done anythin' wrong."

(1/2)

>>3884267
You hang your head further, burying your face in your arms as you're wrapped around yourself, trying desperately to choke back tears. Your breath keeps hitching as you struggle to not weep. Trying to keep your voice down is only making it harder. "I haven't done anything- anything right either-! Innocent men and women killed- all because of me. I've thought I've been doing the right thing- I've put you all in danger- haven't even found a single lead... just look at me-! Flesh is ashamed of me. Spirit knows it. Knows my failings. I'm... I'm..."

You can't finish the sentence, crying into your robes. Both women seem to be giving you a respectable amount of space, or they're too preoccupied with the implications of your words to respond.

The silence is agonizing, enough for you to continue. "I'm weak. I'm not a king or a God or a sorcerer. I can't do anything on my own- and even when I try, even when I devote my life to what I love, I can't do anything right. I waste away. I abuse Their gifts. I get overwhelmed. I'm weak-"

You look up for a moment, terrified. There's something on you. Someone.

Ofelia, small as she is, seems to be able to hug you from where you're sitting on the ground. You tense, every hair on your body standing on end, unable to respond. You've never, ever been touched like this before. ...save for your mother. You look to Celegwen for help, or an easy out.

She seems to notice, and comes over, hugging you as well. You can't be any more on edge- the tears evaporate as your mind scrambles to make sense of what to do.

Her voice slightly muffled, Ofelia says quietly, "you're too hard on yourself. We've gotten ya' in some trouble, too. You've saved mine and Gwen's life a couple times now- ya' gotta' stop actin' like there's no good in ya'. It's not right."

>A) Pull away from both women, and ask for some space. Respectfully ask them to not touch you like that again. You appreciate their kindness but you can't forget your position- and you honestly just don't want anyone that close to you. You've been through enough. Try explaining to them why you are so hard on yourself.

>B) Permit Ofelia and Celegwen to hug you a bit longer. You're panicking, but on some level you're getting some extreme catharsis from a little contact. ...it may not be human contact, but it's something. You just need a minute to digest exactly how you feel. (How do you feel?)

>C) Let your friends give you a hug. Let them comfort you. Let someone into your life. Sure, you're not certain if your heart will ever stop racing, but you need some good in your life. You've trusted these women thus far, over far more substantial things- let them in a little closer, and finish venting.

>D) Write-in.

>>3884270
>>C) Let your friends give you a hug. Let them comfort you. Let someone into your life. Sure, you're not certain if your heart will ever stop racing, but you need some good in your life. You've trusted these women thus far, over far more substantial things- let them in a little closer, and finish venting.

>>3884270
>C) Let your friends give you a hug. Let them comfort you. Let someone into your life. Sure, you're not certain if your heart will ever stop racing, but you need some good in your life. You've trusted these women thus far, over far more substantial things- let them in a little closer, and finish venting.

>>3884270
>D

Hug them back and cry all over their clothes.

>>3884270
this >>3884283

>>3884271
>>3884274
>>3884283
>>3884353
Quality shit. Locking the vote, writing now.

>>3884405
https://youtu.be/fWrcJ3o63d4

You know she's right. Ofelia isn't lying to you- she genuinely thinks you're a good person. Celegwen is hardly protesting, too. Your hands tremble as you lift them from your knees, and awkwardly wrap them back around your friends. You're still young, but 24 years has been far too long without having anyone in your life to hold. You try to muffle your tears as they escape, hating how ugly the sound is- but you're so relieved that it's difficult to care. It feels so good to hold someone against you.

Relief pours over you in waves. You can't help but sob against your friends, burying your face in Ofelia's sleeve as she tightens her arms ever so slightly.

You don't want to the moment to end.

None of you feels the need to say anything for a long while. Ray's panting interjects from time to time, but it's difficult to hear him. You try to muffle your sobs, and apologize through the tears, "...sorry- for ruining your.. shirt.."

You can sense Ofelia waving a hand dismissively, still keeping her arms around you. "No big deal. Don'tcha worry 'bout a thing."

"I'm- still... worried," you sob, struggling to speak, your voice breaking as you try to keep your volume down. "...about where- we're headed... what might- happen... this place... the people that... were here... the ones that... haven't... left..."

Celegwen lifts her head up from your shoulder, and whispers, "I promised to help you. I understand the risks. I'm... sorry for being so hard on you. I did not understand at the time how much you're struggling with, Father. You are much stronger than you give yourself credit for. ...do try and keep your voice down, though."

You nod your head, sobbing harder, unable to speak. Ofelia pats you on the back, clearly not minding that you're soaking her shirt. "Hey, hotshot. It's okay. You've been through some crazy stuff- but Gwen's right. Remember what we said before? No one else we've met down here had their shit on as straight as you. Gimme just a sec, Richard-" Ofelia pulls away from you gently. You reluctantly let her go. Celegwen is still against you, and you flush deeply as she pulls you in closer. Ray hangs back a bit, clearly having no training or idea as to how to respond to the situation.

The elf gives you a smile that catches your heart in your throat. Gently, she whispers, "it's alright."

You bite your lip, trying to still the tears, but they're still coming. You hold her close as well, placing your chin over her shoulder and burying your face in your sleeve to not get tears all over her bare skin. The elf's slender sleeves don't do you much good, but as she's much closer to your own race's height, it's even more reassuring to hold her next to you than Ofelia. You don't need to pretend she's a human woman. You're simply relieved beyond words to be next to a friend.

(1/3)

>>3884664
A few more minutes pass. Ofelia's voice speaks out over you. "No one seems to be payin' us any mind. Either the patrols are deaf or they're just used to the sound from the other people down here... oh, Richard- my bad-"

Your sobs redouble. Celegwen holds you a bit tighter as you choke out, "do you- think- any of those people... will make it... to the surface?"

A long silence hangs in the air. Much longer than you'd like. Celegwen replies, "I don't think any of us can answer that with any certainty."

Ofelia adds in, "I hope they do. They sure stand a better chance now than if they hadn't met ya', right?"

You nod. It's all you can do, distraught as you are. At some point, Ofelia steps away from the door and comes back to hug you again. You knit your eyes shut, sobbing, for once not having to deal with any immediate or lasting pain.

You can feel time wearing on all of you.

Your tears finally start to subside after what feels like half an hour, maybe more. You can't bear to break away from them, so you try talking at a little more length. Your throat is dry, cracked from crying for so long, but it still feels so good to be so open. "I've... been raised my entire life... to not... trust anyone. To keep... people away. It's... it's so terrible. I know you... must have thought I was crazy... leaving so soon, before... I didn't mean... I didn't mean anything by it. It's... it's just... hard... thank you. Both of you. I won't... I won't let you down again. I-"

Celegwen pulls back from you for a moment, looking at you sternly. You're too exhausted to shrink away, and merely wince at the eye contact. You note this is the first time you've looked straight into her eyes when they aren't glazed over- the irises are silver, the whites speckled with flecks of purple and black. You would never be able to tell at a glance. You dart your own eyes away after a moment, as she says with a smirk, "it's alright, even if you do. I know you're trying as hard as you can, Father. That's more than enough."

"You humans got too short a life to live for all this nonsense," Ofelia adds, her voice comically muffled next to your hanging sleeve. "I've said it before and I'll say it again: it's not right. People ought to be good to one another."

The halfling pulls away a bit, holding up a finger to you. You watch her as she slinks away towards her equipment, and takes out a handkerchief for you.

You're unable to resist asking, "...why do you have so many of them?"

(2/3)

>>3884672
"What? These?" She waves the cloth around delicately, then sticks it firmly at you. You take it without complaint. She answers, "people always get upset when they're away from home. I figured I'd need plenty where I was goin'. ...looks like I was right," she smirks, before breaking out into a cheeky grin. You can't offer her one in return, but your expression at least softens a good deal. You pull away from Celegwen at last, drying your face and not wanting her so close while you do so. It's hard to not feel ashamed for your behavior, but your friends were as understanding as you could have ever hoped for.

You look at the handkerchief awkwardly, unsure of whether or not to hand it back to Ofelia.

"Keep it," she says. Your green irises dart up to her for a moment, unsure if you heard her correctly.

"I couldn't..." you protest.

"I don't give a shit 'bout yer customs, keep it."

"You're... you're sure?"

"Yeah, 'course. You gotta make it up to me by takin' better care o' yourself. The less I see ya' usin' it, the better!"

The corners of your mouth almost pick up as you tuck the cloth away in one of your pockets. "I... I can do that."

Celegwen moves to stand, looking at you earnestly. "Do you think you'll be alright, Father?"

You sniff, looking out over the countless books surrounding you. It's a wonder that you feel so much better, even after having prayed to Spirit. A ghost of a smile crosses your face as you murmur, "...I think so."

"OhmygoodnessCelegwen, did you see that?" Ofelia practically trips over herself, leaning in toward you. You shirk away, the smile fading as quickly as it came.

"See... what?" you ask, wrapping your arms around yourself.

The sorceress is also grinning. Otherwise, she elegantly doesn't acknowledge Ofelia's teasing. "If I'm not mistaken, Father, you understand the content of this material now, do you not?"

You pull a bit further away from Ofelia, who is decidedly infringing on your personal space. Ray bounds forward, pushing himself in between the two of you, eager to help. "Yes. ...Ofelia, please. I'm fine."

The halfling sarcastically deflates, putting a hand out to stop the mastiff from slobbering all over her. She goes back to her equipment, and sets to readying her things. Your hands are still trembling, but it's a lot easier to still the rest of your body, given how much relief you feel. You pick up your journal, the diary you acquired earlier, and leave the rest aside. It takes seconds to stash your new findings, gather your things, and ready yourself to go.

Ofelia immediately thrusts more food into your hands. Your frown is back in full force as she asks, "so. Where are we going?"

(Just over the limit, 3/4)

>>3884676
The lowest level of the ruins is a several day march, if you all pick your path carefully. You don't know when the buildings last reoriented themselves- and if you don't make it below the ruins of the city within a week of the last change, you could be caught between buildings, or worse. You know you want to get to the lowest level of the ruins- into the caverns beneath the city of lights. The question is how.

>A) You're taking the shortest route possible to the lowest level of the ruins. It will be extremely dangerous- imps and minor demons surround the levels you current occupy, but you may ultimately save time. Time you can't afford to waste. You can take advantage of the strange geography here, now that you know it like the back of your hand- it will take only a day, if you all push yourselves.

>B) You're taking the safest route possible. You've endangered your friend's lives several times already. You'd rather take the extra time to pick out a path, away from the patrols, to descend. You'll be cutting it close to the safest window to travel down here- it would likely take several days of pure marching, let alone time to rest. ...but you know they're worth the precaution.

>C) Write-in.

>>3884679
>A) You're taking the shortest route possible to the lowest level of the ruins. It will be extremely dangerous- imps and minor demons surround the levels you current occupy, but you may ultimately save time. Time you can't afford to waste. You can take advantage of the strange geography here, now that you know it like the back of your hand- it will take only a day, if you all push yourselves.

>>3884679
>>A) You're taking the shortest route possible to the lowest level of the ruins. It will be extremely dangerous- imps and minor demons surround the levels you current occupy, but you may ultimately save time. Time you can't afford to waste. You can take advantage of the strange geography here, now that you know it like the back of your hand- it will take only a day, if you all push yourselves.

>>3884679
>A) You're taking the shortest route possible to the lowest level of the ruins. It will be extremely dangerous- imps and minor demons surround the levels you current occupy, but you may ultimately save time. Time you can't afford to waste. You can take advantage of the strange geography here, now that you know it like the back of your hand- it will take only a day, if you all push yourselves.
WE NEED TO RESUPPLY MORE GODDAMNIT
WE WILL DIE HALFWAY THERE IF WE RUN OUT OF FOOD OR WATER OR NECESSITIES

>>3884682
>>3884686
>>3884709
Bit late for an update unfortunately, but I'll be back in the early afternoon as usual. Thanks for your patience, guys, hope all the updates from today made up for it. Vote will be open until I get back.

>>3884679
>B

Make Cel remember conjure food and water already

>>3885217
I was seriously wondering when someone was going to mention what slow-going it's been. Bringing this up for sure. However, this directly conflicts with

>>3884682
>>3884686
>>3884709
So we're going to lean towards the majority. Locking the vote- writing now!

>>3885227
"We're heading towards the lowest level of the ruins... there are caverns down there that once housed many demons. There were caches as well... of magical artifacts, even deeper below the Aerth. I strongly suspect we'll find the relic there, if... if it's to be found in this portion of the ruins at all."

Celegwen and Ofelia both look to you, having gathered their things and clearly readied to go. You pause a moment. The rogue pipes up, "assumin' you know the way, then?"

You frown. "I do. ...I'd like to take the shortest route we can. This building reorients itself periodically... I'm deeply concerned for your safety, were we to be caught in it."

Ofelia pales, but the sorceress seems entirely unphased. You glance over to the elf, clearly addressing her despite avoiding her gaze. It's rough to speak at such length, but you feel like it's important enough to warrant saying. "...we won't get very far if we don't resupply. Celegwen, is there no way you can conjure any food or water? We could side-track here to gather what we need, but I wanted to ask... I recall that you were able to do so... before."

"...we've been running for our lives and watching our every step for days. I simply haven't had the time to try," Celegwen explains, patiently. "I was able to withhold my fundamental knowledge of the arcane from the demon that took so much from me- but I cannot relearn these skills without time and practice. It's taken me over 200 years to master the art, and I had much of that stolen from me, Father. ...I cannot possibly hope to relearn everything I once knew, in the little time we have here."

You pause again.

Time.

A cold sweat hits you. It would be unbelievably dangerous. You've never prayed directly to Her before. You've always, always exercised the utmost prudence with Her. But with where you're going- what you want to do- you genuinely don't know what to expect. You could lose your way, or be lost without resources. You might not have time for scavenging if you're only going into greater danger. You normally would never be able to give back the elf her lost time... but you're far from a normal man.

The fear is impossible to mask as you inquire, "how much time do you think you would need?"

"Only a few days to grasp the start of the spell. I would need much, much longer to master it. Conjuration is incredibly taxing on me, but I recognize our need is great."

You nod, thinking to yourself. Demons do not subsist as humans do. Their sustenance is not food or water but human emotion, in whatever twisted form they prefer the most. You know this, and your heart sinks. The library may be the last place for a long while that any of you will see any resupply.

(1/2)

>>3885268
Mother Aimar of the Church of Time has only written to you once, on the day you returned as the Father of the Church of Mercy. She formally welcomed you into your rank, and nothing more. You have never been able to speak to her at length, and know very little of her practitioners. The church itself is nestled deep within the Folorast mountains, several weeks by foot at best. You've never found the need to journey to see her, and have respected Time enough to never invoke Her.

...you have no idea what you'd be getting into. You've only heard whispers, warnings- caution against ever trying to turn back the sands.

>A) Pray to Time, despite the warnings. Grant Celegwen the days she needs in order to relearn conjuration. Your need is great. You are willing to take the risk, and you aren't willing to wait until you're desperate. You don't want to waste any more time or resources, and this is a gift that no one else could possibly give your friend. One that could ultimately save all of your lives.

>B) Stay your hands. Double back to the library, gather as much food and water as you all can carry. No matter how many demons have repopulated the area, you're more willing to contend with a challenge you know you can face. If things ever get dire enough, you can always attempt the prayer then- but you'd rather wait.

>C) Write-in.

>>3885272
>>B) Stay your hands. Double back to the library, gather as much food and water as you all can carry. No matter how many demons have repopulated the area, you're more willing to contend with a challenge you know you can face. If things ever get dire enough, you can always attempt the prayer then- but you'd rather wait.

>>3885272
>>B) Stay your hands. Double back to the library, gather as much food and water as you all can carry. No matter how many demons have repopulated the area, you're more willing to contend with a challenge you know you can face. If things ever get dire enough, you can always attempt the prayer then- but you'd rather wait.
"As i see it, the only things that will be down there with us are going to be demons... so i suggest we might... find a way to consume them?"

>>3885272
>>B) Stay your hands. Double back to the library, gather as much food and water as you all can carry. No matter how many demons have repopulated the area, you're more willing to contend with a challenge you know you can face. If things ever get dire enough, you can always attempt the prayer then- but you'd rather wait.

>>3885272
>B) Stay your hands. Double back to the library, gather as much food and water as you all can carry. No matter how many demons have repopulated the area, you're more willing to contend with a challenge you know you can face. If things ever get dire enough, you can always attempt the prayer then- but you'd rather wait.

[A] raises a good point in that the need is great, and there could be something nasty waiting back at the library, but there's no telling how high the cost would be praying not only for "free time," but for someone else. This is Time we're talking about. Mercy makes Richard bleed, Flesh burns him alive, Agriculture drains his nutrients; it isn't out of the realm of possibility that he would either undergo some kind of deep freeze or have a "Stop-status" put on him for his prayer to Time. That's also assuming Time will even grant the prayer.

But on that subject, does Richard know what appeases Time? I know he's never prayed to Her, but just wondering.

Also sorry for the wall of text.

>>3885295
Some really good points here. You guys did inspect the corpses of those extremely old imps before, that were essentially blood and dust, but haven't really examined any demons at length. Their flesh and blood is decidedly rotten, but it's not outside of the realm of possibility to purify their corpse. Say, through Flesh. Might not be a blood-to-water-to-wine kind of deal, but it may be possible. You'd need to kill a demon first and see if it's edible, and consider the ramifications of imbibing one, and consider if your allies would agree to it, of course, but definitely something to consider!

>>3885309
Richard is aware that Time is best appeased by respecting Her wishes. He is unaware of the consequences of praying to Her, but even as a child was taught how to best respect every God. She in particular is revered through those who manage and structure their time wisely, people who fill their hours and minutes with the things that they genuinely love and wish to pursue. Conversely, indolence and sluggishness is a direct affront to Her. You are, by definition, a pretty holy man, and don't need to worry about having displeased Her. You've spent your life on noble pursuits, tending to the Church and filling your days with the things that matter most to you.

The concern comes not from offending Her through your actions, but the very threat that arises from praying to Her directly. To do so directly contradicts Her teachings.

>>3885309
oh and no need to apologize for any wall of text, I seriously welcome the discussion!

>>3885313
So essentially, Richard doing his job meets Her standards, and isn't going to get him any brownie points.

> "...but the very threat that arises from praying to Her directly."
That's what I was afraid of.

Yeah, praying to Time is likely best left as a last resort, if at all. Thanks for the insight!

>>3885323
>So essentially, Richard doing his job meets Her standards, and isn't going to get him any brownie points.
More so that your obsessive devotion towards getting shit done and taking care of business exceeds what anyone would reasonably expect of a priest. He could probably do with a vacation or some downtime and not have to worry about falling out of Her good graces unless he did something really fucking crazy.

Praying directly to the Gods is, by all rights, pretty crazy though. Hence the way most people react to you. Glad I could be of some help!

I've got some stuff to take care of today but I will absolutely try and get at least one more update out later tonight. Vote will be open until then.

>>3885272
>A

Cowards!

Fine. If no one else wants to pray to time, could Spirit restore her lost knowledge?

>>3885481
Could you elaborate on what you mean by "restore her lost knowledge?" I want to be sure I understand the question.

>>3885581
If the demon ate her memories, could Spirit restore them? The magic related ones at least?

>>3885272
>>B) Stay your hands. Double back to the library, gather as much food and water as you all can carry. No matter how many demons have repopulated the area, you're more willing to contend with a challenge you know you can face. If things ever get dire enough, you can always attempt the prayer then- but you'd rather wait.

>>3885591
Memories have a bit of overlap between Time and Spirit. Spirit aids in how you deal with memories, while Time aids in the loss or retention of them. It wouldn't be possible for Spirit to restore a heathen's memories from hundreds of years of study. You could try and rekindle the feelings Celegwen has regarding her magic through Spirit, but it wouldn't be possible to infringe on the other Goddesses' domain without some serious issues.

Having said all that, you can still certainly try! I'm going to go finally finish some Halloween decorations and I'll be back to write the next post. Vote is still open until then.

>>3885723
Done with the yard decorations, absolutely got assaulted by mosquitoes despite wearing multiple layers of clothes and spray. Dammit. Will still update tonight, just going to have a bit of a delay. Thanks again for all of your patience everyone, seriously appreciate it.

>>3885804
Meds seem to finally be wearing off, thanks for bearing with me guys.

>>3885287
>>3885295
>>3885304
>>3885309
>>3885595
Looks like B was the overwhelming vote!

>>3885481
Going to omit this, just due to it directly conflicting with so many other votes. I appreciate the question though, hope I was able to shed some light on it.

Vote is locked! Writing now.

>>3886082
You echo Celegwen's words back to her. "Our need is great..."

Fidgeting with your holy symbol, you keep your eyes downcast, conflicted. You are hardly a coward... but you can't help but feel like one. Especially when lives are on the line and you can't even make up your mind. Your verdant irises fall on your hanging robes, your thin wrists, and you grit your teeth. Your need is great, but there is no telling how high the cost may be of invoking Time here. You would ask Spirit for Her aid as well, but you know it's more prudent to respect the will of the Gods.

Besides- there is another way to gather resources before you set off. One that doesn't require invoking Her.

"We need to double back to the front of the library," you explain, your gaze still averted. You pour over the dim room, now that the light source has been put away. There's a faint glow coming from the wooden panels around you that permits you to see through the darkness. Celegwen and Ofelia have left the place in disarray, but you can't mind too much anymore. You have long since realized that you may be the last person to ever read the tomes of Ostedholm. "We'll gather as much food and water as we can carry. I understand that the patrols will likely have returned, but..."

You can feel the two women scrutinizing you as you trail off.

"But what?" Ofelia asks.

"...but I fear it is our best option."

Ofelia sighs sarcastically. "We're headin' into certain danger. Whatever are we to do?"

Celegwen chimes in, her smile evident in her words. "Surely, we fair maidens are better suited to a safer path."

You can't help but be amused. You kneel down, scratching Ray behind his ears as you say to them, "I'm glad you're both alright with it. We'll move quickly... I suspect it will take a full day of hard marching to reach the lowest level of the ruins, barring any interruptions."

"Let's get goin', then," Ofelia says, her smirk subsiding. "You leadin' the way, hotshot?"

You give Ray a pat on the head, and motion for the mastiff to follow you. "Good boy, Ray. Here, boy. ...if it's alright with you, Ofelia, would you please keep ahead? I can direct us, but your eyes are far better than my own."

"I see how it is." The halfling is already heading out of the room, her voice dropping to incomprehensible murmurs as she jokingly rambles to herself. "...usin' me as a meat shield, eh? I make a pretty poor one... of all the nerve..."

You all slowly file out of the room you've been occupying. Ofelia slips out first, motioning for everyone to safely follow. "Hurry," she whispers, "this place is swarmin'."

(1/3)

>>3886193
Celegwen leaves next, struggling once again to get through the narrow opening, but managing to get her chest down enough to pass by. You pat Ray on his side, guiding him towards the exit. He's obviously nervous, ears back, tail down. He can clearly sense the danger ahead. "Come on, boy," you whisper reassuringly, "good boy, Ray. ...going to do something real nice for you when we get back home. ...we'll get you a steak. Big as your head. Just a little while longer, boy. Come on. Let's go."

The mastiff complies, eventually, making his way out. You're the last to leave. Your eyes linger a moment on the spot you and your friends occupied as they hugged you for the first time. You try to sear the image into your memory, desperate to hold onto some good in the world.

You turn and leave. It's effortless to slide out into the hallway- and you're immediately pulled by your robes. You nearly let out a gasp, but put a hand to your mouth to muffle it. Celegwen puts a finger to her lips as she finishes pulling you behind the turn in the hallway. Beside her are Ofelia and Ray. They both look terrified.

Celegwen keeps the finger to her lips, pointing to your right. You follow her hand, and see two imps skittering along the ceiling just down the corridor. They're decked to the teeth with knives.

You take your hand off of your mouth, placing it over your holy symbol instead. Its warmth is faint but reassuring, as always. Your pulse slows, as you take the gold in your hands and look to your companions. With your free hand, you gesture towards the opposite end of the hallway. You all immediately take off.

You and Ofelia wordlessly coordinate your return to the front of the building. She stops you all frequently, ducking around countless corners, slipping behind protruding columns of stone and weaving between bookshelves. The labyrinthine structure of the city of lights is a challenge to navigate, but fortunately, you both know the way in your current location. Each and every time the rogue seems to pause you guide her. Your combined efforts see you all back in one piece... but Celegwen holds out a hand, bringing you all to a stop.

Wordlessly, the elf puts her hands to the sides of her head like a pair of horns. She bares her teeth, in the cutest conceivable imitation of a demon you've ever seen. You struggle to not make a sound at the sight- it looks as if Ofelia is repressing some laughter as well. Celegwen pouts, and motions for you all to inch forward. You put out a hand to stop Ray from moving forward, but leer around the corner with as much caution as you can.

(2/3)

>>3886195
The sage and sapphire of the entrance hits you in the same invigorating way as it did the day before. The creeping vines, the trickling stream... the demon centered in the room. You catch a terribly brief glance at it. It's hard to tell their place in the heirarchy, as they're distinctly humanoid... yet, their shape seems to bend and twist in the light. It's neither man nor woman, corporeal nor bodiless. It almost seems to be made of shadow. You pull back around the corner. It's only one demon. It doesn't seem to have noticed you. Surely, you can take it.

>A) Motion for Celegwen, Ofelia and Ray to stay in hiding while you charge the demon. Take it by surprise.
>A1) Use your mace and shield- pray to Flesh to empower your body.
>A2) Pray to Agriculture to grow the surrounding vines into a prison over the demon's form.
>A3) Pray to Spirit to engage the demon in a battle of wills. You are feeling fantastic after your last prayer to Her. You want more.
>A4) Pray to Storm to engulf the demon in water and lightning. Drown it. Burn it. You aren't taking any chances, even if your last prayer to Him taxed you heavily.

>B) Motion for your allies to help you take on the demon, and charge it together.
>B1) Use your mace and shield, and abstain from prayer. You want to build your strength. Give your wasted muscles some work.
>B2) Pray to Mercy to protect your friends from harm while they lead the charge.

>C) Motion to Ofelia to sneak up on the demon and take it down while you create a distraction. (Write-in what you wish to do.)

>D) Write-in.

>>3886197
Have ofelia maneuver around the Back,instruct gwen to attack it only when it seems incorpreal with the arcane,richard charges with no blessing,holding off until We know more about it,prod its defenses and let the girls strike the killing blow when they can.

>>3886233
This

>>3886197
>A4

Thunder and lightning very very frightening

>>3886233
Supporting.

>>3886233
lets see how a write-in does in a 7 option post so this gets my vote

>>3886233
>>3886530
>>3886545
>>3886650
>give voters 7 options
>get a write-in with a complete battleplan
You fucking lunatics.

>>3886533
As cool as this is, going to go with the majority on this one to avoid conflicting actions. Thank you, though!

Vote is locked. Writing now.

>>3886698
Turning back to Ofelia, you gesture for her to sneak around and get the jump on the demon. As quietly as you can, you whisper, "it looks to be shifting between forms. Only strike it when it's assumed a solid shape. I'll give you a signal."

She nods, pulling her hood up further and slinking away. She seems to disappear entirely into the shadows, vanishing from your sight as quickly as she appeared. You can't hear her footsteps- you'll have to trust her to listen to your instruction.

Celegwen tightens her grip around her staff, making no motion to take out a blade. You nod to her, wordlessly agreeing to have her target the demon when it's incorporeal.

Your long, scarred fingers tense around your mace, whispering once again, "I'll be right behind you."

The elf steps out boldly into the room. You watch intently from your hiding place. The library's shelves are soaked from the streams running through them. The steady running water would be soothing, were it not for the demon rapidly approaching your friend. You brace yourself, bringing your shield up over you and Ray, and charge.

"Ray- behind me!"

Your shout immediately grabs the demon's attention as you rush forward. Celegwen doesn't hesitate, rapidly uttering an incantation that discharges a beam of darkness out and into the demon. She's nearly knocked backwards from the force of the blast.

A gaping hole is left in the wake of her attack. Roughly the size of your fist, the demon's form warps and bends into the loss of form. Long tendrils begin to spread from the interior of its body... and then suddenly dart out towards you!

You dodge to the side, shield up as you crash to the floor and roll away from the attack. You manage to get back to your feet fairly quickly, in time to see the demon targeting you once again!

Dread and elation blend into a sick kind of joy as you swing your mace down on the tendrils before they can strike you or Ray. With as much force as you can muster, you cleave through the solid stalks of demonic flesh, trying your best to not take too much delight out of attacking the beast. You have always craved violence- but you need to exercise restraint. You back up after smiting the demon's attack, running back a fair distance.

"After me, Ray!" You call, trying to ensure that the hound stays on your heels. He's right behind you, growling and gnashing his teeth, practically begging you to attack. Fortunately, he also knows when to abstain.

You hear another outpouring of enchantments as Celegwen fires into the demon. You whip your head around for the briefest of moments, looking over your shoulder to see the demon in hot pursuit. You skid to a halt, turning on your heel to face it as it seems to ready another attack- and disappears entirely from view.

You spin around, looking frantically for your attacker. Celegwen calls out, "Father?! Where are you?!"

(1/2)

>>3886746
Confused, you glance over to the elf. Her form is fuzzy- the outlines of her body seem to be intangible.

Your voice doesn't sound quite right, phasing in and out as you ask, "Celegwen?"

It's as if there's static on the edges of everything. You look down to Ray, and see that he, too, seems distorted. You keep your shield up, backing up towards a nearby wall to grant yourself better protection.

Something- someone- materializes next to you. It's not the demon.

It's you.

All of the color drains from your face, as panic drenches your body. You can feel the Catalyst tugging at the edges of your mind from the sharp emotion, and try your best to calm down. It's a losing battle.

The imitator looks exactly like you, from the blood stains on his robes, to his crooked nose, to the last scar on his concerned face and hands. His form is still grainy, and you're deeply disturbed by the sight. The demon flashes a toothy grin at you, green eyes coyly dragging over your shaking form. He whispers in your own voice, "want to have some fuuun, Father?"

Your stomach flips. You take hold of your holy symbol, taking care to not scratch it against your mace. Your fingers seem to be phasing in and out of existence, just an intangible as the edges of the demon. You want to raise your voice in protest, but the demon calls out first.

"The demon took my form! Come, quickly! Now's our chance!"

Celegwen immediately runs over, staff at the ready- and Ofelia is still nowhere in sight. Ray has his ears down, and is whining at both you and the demon. Your heart breaks into a hundred pieces at the sight.

>A) Call out to Celegwen and Ofelia. Warn them that the demon is the imposter, and try to say something that will convince them of your identity. (Write-in what you wish to say.)

>B) Attack the demon. It may be as weak as you are, in its current form. You all should be able to quickly subdue it, if you act quickly.

>C) Talk to Ray. Your dog will know you aren't a demon. You don't need to convince anyone else of who you are- let your boy vouch for you.

>D) Write-in.

>>3886752
>A

Don't try to convince them, just say it so they hold off on attacking either one of you. Then

>B

>>3886752
Demons cant invoke the gods, Say a litany so that the girls know who the true man of the gods is.
invoke mercy if we can with an elaborate prayer.

>>3886764

This.

>>3886764
+1

>>3886764
nice plan
fuck you dopplegangsters

>>3886764
>>3886766
>>3886916
>>3886924
>>3886759
You guys are killing it. Based as hell to have remembered. Got the votes, writing now!

>>3886962
https://youtu.be/onzdDkKSvXU?t=4

You tear your eyes from Ray, focusing on the sorceress running straight at you. Your voice is trembling terribly as you call out, "Wait! He's lying!"

Celegwen comes quickly to a stop. Her form bends and shifts before you, as your vision is clearly distorted by some effect the demon has placed on the area around you. Said demon takes a step away from you, looking back and forth between you and Celegwen with a convincing amount of anxiety.

"There's no time-" he says, voice wrought with convincing worry. He puts up his hands, pretending that you're about to strike him. "Stop!"

The demon takes a step towards you. Ray starts to bark hysterically, completely unable to comprehend the danger you're in. You raise both of your hands towards the demon, first in a defensive motion, and then clasped together firmly in prayer. The demon lunges at you, not wasting another second. You're forced to separate your hands to wrestle the lunatic off of you, as you both crash to the floor. You both wrestle with each other for the briefest of moments, before you toss his emaciated form aside. You're used to pushing your frame when it's this strained- and he clearly is not.

"Mercy-!" You start, but your voice is disjointed. Everything feels wrong.

You see the demon intentionally fall harder than he needed to onto the floor, splitting open his lip and cheek as he lands. The monster makes a show of putting a hand to his face. The hurt in his voice mimics your own almost perfectly, as he looks up to Celegwen. She's standing a safe distance away, her expression unreadable as she looks between both of you. You want to puke as the demon drags himself to his feet, pleading, "you have to help me- please!"

Ray's tail is tucked between his legs, ears back as he whines and growls at the both of you. You want to comfort him so badly, but you can't let this demon out of your sight. The demon glances at you again, and makes a dramatic show of crawling towards you, pretending to struggle as if he were badly injured. His voice is pained, desperate, as he continues to talk. "I won't let you take my friends. I won't let you hurt anyone else!"

He lunges at you again, and this time manages to pin you to the floor. He immediately twists one of your arms, straddling over you and ensuring that you can't lock your hands in prayer. The sensation of his bone against your own is extremely unsettling. You hadn't quite realized the severity of your appearance, but this is making it impossible to ignore. The demon is grating against your ribs as he pins you, driving the sharp edges of his knees into your sides to keep you still. You grimace, trying to kick up, to get leverage, but he only twists your skeletal arm further. The demon's bloodied lip drips onto your own skin at a steady rate, the crimson as untainted as any human man's should be.

(1/4)

>>3887224
His disguise is flawless- but you know of one thing a demon could never imitate. You let him lean in closer, trying to not put up much resistance to save your joints further stress. You murmur, "she won't hurt me. You've made a terrible mistake. ...I have something that you could never imitate."

Celegwen takes a step forward, staff pointed at you both, but looking at you directly. It's apparent she heard you, even though your words were scarcely a whisper.

The demon leers in, closely, pulling hard enough on your arm to nearly dislocate it. You can't help but moan from the pain, trying your best to muffle the sound and completely failing to do so. The demon leans in even closer, sadism dripping off every syllable as he whispers right in your ear, the tone seemingly echoing in your mind but outside of the room's reach, "Freak. I'm going to do things to her you couldn't even imagine. She'll die thinking it was you."

You shoot the demon a grin with far worse intent than the one he gave you moments ago, starting to speak again, but your words are cut short by another groan.

"Why are you smiling- he's- he's doing something! Hurry! While there's still time-!"

The pain coursing through your shoulder is quickly becoming unbearable. You try calling out, "Mercy-"

Celegwen takes a few more steps forward, the same neutral expression on her face as before. The demon pulls harder on your arm, muting the twisted smile he's been giving you. You don't see the expression he makes to Celegwen, as he pulls the bone clean out of the socket. You can't bury your face in your sleeve, and the thought of touching the demon any further is utterly revolting. You settle on having to scream into the open air.

The demon's voice carries over the tail end of your agony, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry... I can't imagine what you're thinking. Please trust me. Please. You know I would never hurt anyone unless our lives were in danger. I need you to trust me. Please."

Your pulse skyrocketing, sweat dripping down your back, pressed into the moss and old wooden floor, you make no attempt to pull away from the demon. The nerves around your dislocated shoulder cry out in response to the slightest movement, but you lean into the demon. He looks at you, wide eyed, legitimately afraid. You know his response is no act.

"The demon's insane! You know I wouldn't be able to do that- please! Help!"

He shoots you another grin, trying to twist your arm further. Your nerves, overworked, tingle as the damage takes hold. Your body may respond with another moan, you may writhe against the attack- but your mind is elsewhere. Your words drip with divinity as you feverishly utter a litany. Your voice wavers, but the intent is as steady and methodical as the repetition of the words.

"In everlasting pain,
this mortal vessel is made fit to serve You,
behold your Father, prostrate before You,
give unto us Mercy."

"Stop," the demon sneers, twisting your arm even further.

(2/4)

>>3887227
"I know you are afraid," you murmur. You continue to lean into his torment, eyes glazing over with a faint, golden light. You can feel Her working through you, faintly, unable to properly reach your form but striving to heal whatever damage is within Her power. You do not fear this demon. You have felt far worse pain.

You can't help but groan, as the demon continues to twist. You force the words out, through gritted teeth,

"Though ceaseless,
the suffering of Our children will not go unheard,
their Mother will not turn from them, their prayers will be answered,
blessed as they are by Mercy."

"STOP-" the demon shouts, finally releasing your arm. He's clearly terrified. Celegwen rushes forward, rapidly uttering an incantation as the demon turns to flee. Ofelia leaps from the shadows the moment the demon is off of you. Their maneuver pins the demon in place- it doesn't drop its disguise, holding onto your form as you continue to preach. Your voices carry over one another in a discordant chorus- one divine, and the other decidedly sacrilegious.

"I'LL KILL YOU ALL- STAY AWAY FROM ME-!"

Celegwen blasts the demon straight into his chest. The blood and viscera disappears into the space she's created, seeping through the demon's robes. He places a hand to his chest, ripping out a tendril of viscera and spiking it towards the spell caster. Ofelia and Ray jump onto him in tandem. Your mastiff rips into the demon's arm while the rogue stabs him straight into the back. His screams intermingle with your trembling words, as you lay against the floor, clutching at your arm to try and keep the loose bone steady.

"Unending is our torment,"

"YOU FILTHY SLUTS! I'LL TEAR YOU ALL TO PIECES!"

"yet in the darkness there is light,"

"GET OFF OF ME! NO!!"

"the Father is illuminated, Her radiance indisputable,"

"YOU'RE NO BETTER THAN I AM! STAY AWAY! STOP-"

"we bask in the light of Mercy."

The demon's screams become entirely incoherent as he is torn to pieces, between Ofelia's, Ray's and Celegwen's administrations. Your mastiff bounds over to you within seconds after subduing the demon, letting the two women finish it off to better attend to you. You give him a weary glance, trying to reassure the hound. His mouth drips with bright red blood. The illusion the demon created, disturbingly, does not seem to fade.

The light of Mercy persists, however, as you feel the myriad scars around your shoulder and arm pulse with heat and healing. It's slow, but there's enough relief from the pain that you can speak.

"It's okay, boy. I'm alright."

(3/4)

>>3887233
The wet sounds of the demon thrashing against Ofelia's blade and Celegwen's spells quickly ends. Both women can be heard, breathing hard, as you stare up at the ceiling. The warmth and light in your eyes and shoulder seem to be growing. Ray patiently waits over your body, snarling, looking for anyone else that might threaten your safety. It's a good sign that he's not trying to drag you out of the room. The demon must have been waiting here alone.

Ofelia runs over after another few minutes pass. The halfling, red-faced and bloody, leans over you. You're in too much pain to retreat from her stare. The sound of Celegwen blasting the demon hangs on the edges of your mind as everything seems to regain its form and proper shape, but your senses are fried from the pain regardless. Ofelia nervously laughs, clearly having no idea how to handle the situation as she manages to say, "that was the shittiest signal I've ever seen."

Celegwen comes running over as well. She moves to offer you a hand, to stand up, but sees the agony clearly written across your face.

You can't help but ask, your voice distant as your senses swarm with heat, "what took you so long?"

The elf sheepishly looks away, leaning hard against her staff, clearly exhausted. She seems to be too worn out to respond. Stars hang in the corners of her eyes and on the ends of her hair as she practically glistens with magic. Ofelia answers for her. "Knife-ears can be a little slow like that. Nearly gotten me killed a few times too- hey!"

You glance over to the two women to see Celegwen threatening Ofelia with a violent glare. They're both clearly joking to try and break some of the tension, but you can't reciprocate, struggling to not moan through the blazing heat in your shoulder. You've had dislocations before- especially as a child- but you rarely ask Mercy for aid through pain alone. You can't invoke Her without purpose, and She is making Herself heard. She doesn't stop the burn. You're filled with ardor, outright devotion to the wound. You lean back against the floor, closing your eyes for a moment, barely able to think through the building relief. Mercy's light fills your senses. The sensation is borderline disturbing, but you feel yourself slipping into it, wanting to ease into the pain.

(Options in next post)

>>3887237
>A) Continue the litany to Mercy. The Goddess has seen fit to grant you relief while you recover. You won't stop Her, and you certainly won't question Her methods. Ray will surely guard you all while Ofelia and Celegwen scavenge. You don't do nearly enough for yourself. Permit yourself to have this gift.

>B) Thank Mercy for Her protection, but drop the prayer, and see if you can instruct Celegwen or Ofelia on how to set your arm. It might make travel significantly harder if you cut the recovery short, but you'd rather compromise your arm for a time than to be a burden now. ...no matter how badly you want otherwise.

>C) End the prayer to Mercy graciously, and pray to Flesh to immediately restore all function to your shoulder and arm. You can deal with a few more scars- but you can't handle wasting another second. He was displeased with you, last you prayed to him, but you did incur this wound from using your own body. You're willing to risk incurring His wrath if it means saving your strength.

>D) Write-in.

>>3887241
>>A) Continue the litany to Mercy. The Goddess has seen fit to grant you relief while you recover. You won't stop Her, and you certainly won't question Her methods. Ray will surely guard you all while Ofelia and Celegwen scavenge. You don't do nearly enough for yourself. Permit yourself to have this gift

>>3887241
>>A) Continue the litany to Mercy. The Goddess has seen fit to grant you relief while you recover. You won't stop Her, and you certainly won't question Her methods. Ray will surely guard you all while Ofelia and Celegwen scavenge. You don't do nearly enough for yourself. Permit yourself to have this gift.

>>3887241
>A) Continue the litany to Mercy. The Goddess has seen fit to grant you relief while you recover. You won't stop Her, and you certainly won't question Her methods. Ray will surely guard you all while Ofelia and Celegwen scavenge. You don't do nearly enough for yourself. Permit yourself to have this gift
>Feel justifiable pride in that Mercy was able to reveal the other as the impostor through you. The ploy worked perfectly, and you only got off with a dislocated shoulder, which can at least be set back manually. She has as much a part in this victory as you did. Give thanks, as always. For in a city to Her, fallen as it is, you are on this path of Mercy.
Rick needs to fucking relax and score a couple more Mercy points, because he clearly does not have enough of either.

File: Terrifying Demon.png (472 KB, 1841x1181)

472 KB PNG

>>3887267
>>3887293
>>3887296
Nice. Next update is going to take me a little bit, but I'll have it out as soon as I can. Here's a consolation doodle of Celegwen's best demon impersonation while you guys wait.

>>3887389
Alright! Writing now.

>>3887467
"Leave me be... for a few minutes..." you murmur, assuming your friends can hear you. Your trembling voice intermingles with divinity as you barely speak out, your mind adrift in a growing haze of pain and bliss. You don't care to open your eyes. You do not need to see the mortal coil when Mercy is beside you.

Ofelia makes a noise of concern as if she wants to protest, but you hear on the edges of the heat and gold that Celegwen shushes her. There's muffled footsteps as they respect your wishes. It's likely that they're going to attend to the very thing you all came back to the library for. Your heart is pounding- the pain skyrocketing your pulse as you lay against the floor of the ruins, each and every breath heightening the heat and euphoria.

There's no need for words between you and Mercy, but you speak regardless. You are in the last remains of a city built to worship Her. You want Her praises to be heard again here, as you walk Her path, as you are guided on Her mission. It's even thanks to Mercy that you were so easily recognized by your friends. There's no telling how far from Her light you had been taken, but She's with you, and you want Her praises to be heard. Pride and abject devotion falls from your lips as you pour yourself back into the litany. You begin to deviate slightly from the standard form, inspired and utterly devoted to the Goddess.

https://youtu.be/OPlK5HwFxcw

Immaculate is your radiance,
though men may fail to see Your light,
the Father embraces Your gifts, and sings Your praise,
Praise be unto Mercy.

Your breath hitches with the slightest aggravation to your wound, your words sparking new waves of agony. Your face reddens, as the pain does not abate with Mercy's blessing, but rather, She seems to elevate your ardor.

You know better than to question Her methods.

As difficult as it is for you to relax, you try to ease yourself into the sensation, losing yourself to it as you continue to speak. The steady pace of the prayer continues to heighten the heat flaring through you. The sensation is nothing like the Catalyst- you're hardly falling to pieces or losing yourself.

You feel whole. Like the hundreds of scars in your skin and cracks in your soul are being held together by Mercy.

Your voice drops to a murmur, far more intimate than anything you would utter within the Church, as you fail to maintain your composure.

"In everlasting love,
this mortal vessel is made fit to serve You,
behold your Father, prostrate before You,
give unto us Mercy."

Your breath hitches again, as the tortured muscle in your shoulder spasms suddenly. You're already holding the site, but you dig your fingers in, almost unable to help yourself. The spasm stops- but the renewed pain sparks sparks another wave of heat and healing. You're scarcely capable of speech. One word escapes your lips, before you lose consciousness.

"M-mercy..."

-----

(1/2)

>>3887507
Your eyes drift open, the light of the Goddess absent from them. You immediately draw into yourself, wincing from the light, and almost shout out. You're expecting a wave of pain in your shoulder, but... there's no pain.

There's no pain at all.

Alarmed, your eyes bolt open, and you turn to see what could have possibly happened. You're still lying on the floor, off to the back of the library, your back to the moss and hardwood. Ray, Celegwen and Ofelia are leaning over you intently. The ceiling above is still slick with water runoff and greenery. The myriad books around you are all seemingly untouched, saved for the scattered damage from your fight with the demon. Your robes, slick with blood, don't seem to be out of place.

Ray, Celegwen and Ofelia are leaning over you intently. The thought actually registers, and you begin to crawl backwards reflexively. Ofelia practically jumps out of her skin, and Celegwen puts a hand on your shoulder to keep you down.

"Hey- hey, Richard, what the fuck-"

"Father, please, stay still. You were wounded-"

You put up both hands, gingerly shrugging off Celegwen's attempt to keep you still. "I feel fine," you say, sounding as surprised as you feel.

"He's prolly in shock," Ofelia says heavily. "Was ramblin' like crazy before he passed out, this isn't good-"

You frown. "I wasn't rambling."

Your hand works its way to your shoulder again. You try pressing on it, firmly. There's no pain. It feels like the wound was never there.

Celegwen is giving you a strange look. A knowing look. You avert your eyes from hers, but her voice commands your attention.

"I'm glad you're alright, Father. I know you were not rambling. I was... am, more concerned about what you were doing. Are you alright?"

>A) Of course you're alright. You're better than alright. ...but you aren't going to discuss any time you spent with Mercy with two other women, regardless of what good friends they are. Regardless of whether or not one has incredibly good hearing and likely heard every word and moan. You're all going to keep moving and not mention this any further.

>B) You're not alright with Celegwen judging your prayer to the Goddess. Even if you were lacking some wanted privacy, you did nothing wrong. Express as much, and divert the subject away. Ask if the women were able to gather supplies, offer to help if they haven't, and get moving.

>C) You're better than you've felt in a very, very long time. Enough to warrant mentioning your concern over Celegwen's comment. Try to tactfully tell her that your behavior isn't cause for concern, and that thanks to it, Mercy seems to have completely healed your dislocated shoulder. Reassure your friends, continue with the mission- and hope that they remain understanding.

>D) Write-in.

>>3887508
>>C) You're better than you've felt in a very, very long time. Enough to warrant mentioning your concern over Celegwen's comment. Try to tactfully tell her that your behavior isn't cause for concern, and that thanks to it, Mercy seems to have completely healed your dislocated shoulder. Reassure your friends, continue with the mission- and hope that they remain understanding.

>>3887508
>B) You're not alright with Celegwen judging your prayer to the Goddess. Even if you were lacking some wanted privacy, you did nothing wrong. Express as much, and divert the subject away. Ask if the women were able to gather supplies, offer to help if they haven't, and get moving.

>>3887508
>>C) You're better than you've felt in a very, very long time. Enough to warrant mentioning your concern over Celegwen's comment. Try to tactfully tell her that your behavior isn't cause for concern, and that thanks to it, Mercy seems to have completely healed your dislocated shoulder. Reassure your friends, continue with the mission- and hope that they remain understanding.

>>3887508
>C) You're better than you've felt in a very, very long time. Enough to warrant mentioning your concern over Celegwen's comment. Try to tactfully tell her that your behavior isn't cause for concern, and that thanks to it, Mercy seems to have completely healed your dislocated shoulder. Reassure your friends, continue with the mission- and hope that they remain understanding.
Once they see the pure joy in Richard's expression, something so rare and foreign to them in association with him for this long, they might understand. Or at least get a few hints of something.

>>3887508
>C

>>3887508
>C) You're better than you've felt in a very, very long time. Enough to warrant mentioning your concern over Celegwen's comment. Try to tactfully tell her that your behavior isn't cause for concern, and that thanks to it, Mercy seems to have completely healed your dislocated shoulder. Reassure your friends, continue with the mission- and hope that they remain understanding.

>>3887509
>>3887513
>>3887514
>>3887515
>>3887660
>>3887676
Back and ready for action. Locking the vote. Writing now!

>>3887873
There's little doubt in your mind that Celegwen was able to hear every utterance and moan that Mercy elicited from you. You're hardly uncomfortable that she heard- you are not ashamed to have been blessed by the Goddess. In fact, thinking back to it has you positively beaming. "I'm alright. ...better than I've felt in a very long time. Mercy worked through me... she didn't just help you all to realize my identity. My shoulder seems to be completely healed."

A genuine smile crosses your face as you say to yourself, "the Gods are Merciful."

Both women are completely stunned at the sight of you. Your expression almost feels foreign, but you know that pure, genuine joy is seeping into the edges of your words and expression. The sorceress remains pensive- perhaps given the greater context. Ofelia, on the other hand, is positively elated. She seems to take your word immediately that your shoulder has healed, nudging you gently as she meets your smile with her own. You don't quite shy away, and she seems to see the look on your face a bit more clearly. The rogue properly gets the hint, her smile turning into a proper leer as she teases you.

"Oh. Oooohhhh! You guys weren't going to tell me anything before, suppose I'm not gonna' hear any of it now? Unbelievable. ...you know, it's 'bout time a lady took care of you- HEY-!"

Celegwen firmly punches Ofelia in her arm. The smaller woman makes a show of punching her back, wasting no time before turning back to you. She's still grinning.

"...I think I might actually like this one, Richard. Don't let Gwen bother ya' none. She hears everythin'. O'course, I wouldn'ta minded-"

Celegwen makes a fist at the halfling, saying in a deceptively level voice, "please, attempt to have a little class, Ofelia."

"Comin' from you, what a loada crock- OKAY- okay!"

The halfling puts up her hands, deflecting another punch. She grins to both of you as she continues. "Happy for ya', Richard, really. Maybe we can get more where that came from for you. ...you probably need it."

You can't disagree, and don't particularly care to. You nod slightly as you muse to yourself, faintly feeling the site of the absent injury. Mercy has never healed you so rapidly... or in such an intense way. By all rights, the wound should have taken weeks to fully recover. You can scarcely believe it, still smiling to yourself.

Ofelia doesn't seem to mind, grinning broadly back at you. "What luck though- it looked like I wasn't gonna get in close to that monster before he did a number on ya'. Didn't mean to take so long, but I didn't want to hurt ya' or nothin'. Not that that's much help, but we really tore into 'em. Was pretty weird, if I'm gonna be honest."

Celegwen explains, "it seemed to maintain its illusion up to, and long after its death. I did not dissipate its body, to conserve my strength, but I suggest you do not look, Father."

(1/2)

>>3887982
"I've seen far worse," you immediately protest, but Celegwen continues.

"I cannot stop you, if you wish to... but we should continue with our expedition. If you say we have as little time as we do to leave this place, it would be unwise to linger."

"It's seriously a miracle nothin's come this way so far," Ofelia chimes in. "Ray's been real good bout keepin' his nose out, but every time he seems to start, nothin' makes its way over here. Somethin' might be up."

Your smile fades a great deal, and you get a bit of a hold on yourself. "It could have been the effect that demon placed on me. It seemed to be able to will my form into... another space. I don't quite know how to describe it... it defied categorization. I think we can safely assume that the demons in the area were avoiding it as well."

A dark look passes over Ofelia's face. She gives you a smile you do not like, at all.

"What if we use it?"

You look at her as if she's insane. "What do you mean?"

She glances over to a dark smear in the corner of the library. You hadn't noticed it during the fight, as taken as you were with Mercy- but the location where the demon fell is streaked with blood. You couldn't have been unconscious for more than half hour, as even the droplets are still moist. Your face pales a great deal, seeing the unmistakable corpse of the demon strewn about. Your friends seemed to show no restraint in tearing the creature to pieces. You thankfully don't see its mockery of your face, as its head is severed from the corpse and laying face-down a fair distance away. The sight of your scruffy brown hair, matted with blood, is the best indication of the monster's fixed form.

A shiver climbs up your spine as you tear your gaze away from it. Ofelia repeats, "what if we use it?"

Celegwen seems to catch on. "A bluff?"

"A diversion. This place was crawling before we raised hell. I'm sure every bastard that could hear came this way, and probably a few of their friends, too. We could use the help, if we're gonna be hikin' all day."

>A) You have been through, and seen, quite a lot in your life. Having your friends drag a duplicate of your body as a mutilated corpse through a demonic ruin in order to stave off an untold number of demons is one thing you do not wish to witness. You'll find another way to guide everyone out safely.
>A1) Pray to Spirit to illuminate just how many demons have gathered outside of the library.
>A2) Have Ofelia scout ahead down the fastest route you're aware of- you all need to conserve your resources.
>A3) Scout ahead as a group. You don't want to risk getting split up.

>B) Having your friends drag a duplicate of your body as a mutilated corpse through a demonic ruin in order to stave off an untold number of demons is EXACTLY the kind of thing you need more of. You aren't a coward, and you're far from squeamish. Stuff your equipment full of as much food and water as you can carry, and get to work.

>C) Write-in.

>>3887984
>>B) Having your friends drag a duplicate of your body as a mutilated corpse through a demonic ruin in order to stave off an untold number of demons is EXACTLY the kind of thing you need more of. You aren't a coward, and you're far from squeamish. Stuff your equipment full of as much food and water as you can carry, and get to work.
I mean if it saves us from being bogged down with fight after fight let's do it.

>>3887984
>B

I've never understood why seeing themselves beaten up makes people uncomfortable.

>>3887984
>B) Having your friends drag a duplicate of your body as a mutilated corpse through a demonic ruin in order to stave off an untold number of demons is EXACTLY the kind of thing you need more of. You aren't a coward, and you're far from squeamish. Stuff your equipment full of as much food and water as you can carry, and get to work.
I somewhat expect Richard to take a sort of black humor in this and go "Boy am I glad I am not this man." or something darkly funny. Maybe the girls can poke fun at it too, in a "Yes, he sure is unlucky being dragged around by a pair of fair maidens, huh?" way.

>>3887984
>>B) Having your friends drag a duplicate of your body as a mutilated corpse through a demonic ruin in order to stave off an untold number of demons is EXACTLY the kind of thing you need more of. You aren't a coward, and you're far from squeamish. Stuff your equipment full of as much food and water as you can carry, and get to work.

>>3888000
>>3888444
sick double double trips
>>3888013
>>3888070
and quality comments all around. Noted! Going to lock the vote and get another update out tonight.

We're finally on auto-sage, but I'll be updating regularly as usual. You guys have been phenomenal about voting so I'm sure we'll be alright, though.

Writing now.

>>3888537
Finally getting to your feet, you give Ofelia a nod of approval. The halfling springs over to the remnants of the demon, not wasting any time. Celegwen is right on her heels, muttering to herself and obviously finding the entire situation terribly distasteful. You are hardly unused to carnage, thanks to your occupation- and honestly, you find the entire situation darkly amusing. You gather your things and quickly start to gather water from the opposite side of the library, calling Ray to your side and rejoining your companions in a matter of moments. There's no need to command the mastiff's attention, as he seems sorely in need of attention and is sticking to you like glue. You kneel down for a moment, scratching his ears and murmuring some reassurance to the hound as you watch your friends. Ofelia dons her working gloves, and shoos you away.

"Get some food, dammit. This won't take more than a moment."

You give Ray a pat on the head, letting him follow you as you nod to the halfling and set out to gather. You were raised by farmers, and have had to travel through forests and wilderness many times- you can at least recognize a few greens. It's quick work to fill your pack. You jog back over to the women, darkly curious as to what they've managed to collect.

Ofelia has taken the head of the demon's corpse in a small bundle of cloth. Its face is still obscured from your view, but you can see blood seeping where his eyes were clearly gouged out. More blood still drips from the severed neck and the gashes that Celegwen formed with her spells. The sorceress seems terribly unamused as she gathers a single, stick-like arm from a few feet away. Still clothed in a mockery of your robes, the black fabric hangs from the gaunt and bleeding flesh.

It seems to be all that hasn't been torn completely to shreds. Ray doesn't growl as they pick up the corpse. He knows when his target is no longer a threat.

You pray that the demons won't recognize that this corpse is hardly a threat, too. Celegwen seems equally suspicious, but you try to reassure her.

"Younger, weaker demons are hardly sane, Celegwen. Many are far from intelligent. ...most of them can scarcely tell humans apart, let alone any of their kind that they don't directly serve."

Celegwen nods, seeming to take heart from your words. Ofelia moves to acknowledge what you've said, and merely fusses with the severed head. She settles on saying, "good to know. I was just goin' to chuck it at the first demon that gave us trouble, but maybe... we can do more."

You can't help but smirk as you look at the corpse. You're jaded from a lifetime of battle and bloodshed, and scarcely bothered by the sight. Now that the demon isn't a threat, it's far more reassuring to see its lifeless form than to contend with it standing. Grimly, you walk over to Ofelia, and try to get a better look at the head.

"Richard?"

You risk a little gallows humor. "Funny. ...I thought I couldn't be any worse off."

(1/3)

>>3888582
Ofelia snorts. Celegwen seems mildly amused. The halfling tries to stifle a smile, but as she teases you back, she can't restrain herself from laughing. "Could you imagine? Having a couple of women tearing you to pieces and wrapping your head-!"

The humor leaves your voice as you flush, and you see something sail through the air and narrowly miss Ofelia. Celegwen seems to have tried to chuck a piece of rubble at the rogue, but she dodges it effortlessly and sticks her tongue out at the sorceress. "Yer aim's shit, Gwen! Lucky for you, Richard, we got places to be- ahaha!"

The halfling dodges another rock. Celegwen sighs heavily and walks over to you both, staff in one hand, severed arm in the other. She looks exhausted, but offers you a smile. You avert your eyes, extremely embarrassed to even glance at either woman. She offers you a welcome distraction as she says, "I do have better things to do than to always carry you around, Father."

"Allow me," you murmur, still beet-red, putting up your mace to to take the duplicate of your own arm away from your friend. You keep your shield in your other hand, assuming that where you're headed, you'll need all the protection you can get.

Celegwen doesn't protest, handing off the limb to you as soon as she can. The elf mutters something under her breath in a language you don't understand, but you can safely assume she's cursing the halfling in her own tongue and wanted to save you further embarrassment.

You gingerly take the flesh away from the spellcaster, thankful for her grace. The limb is disturbingly light, and you feel no heat through the cloth that drapes from it. The weight of the herbs and plant life you gathered is a reminder that you at least had time to resupply. You try and reassure yourself. I won't permit myself to get in such bad shape again. I owe it to Flesh. ...and, I suppose, to Ofelia.

You motion towards a door opposite of the corridor you all entered from, lowering your voice. You keep your eyes ahead, still too nervous to look at your friends. "Ofelia, will you please lead, as you did before? I know the way- but I trust your eyes, and the ruins ahead will be swarming with demons by now."

The halfling nods, sobering up immediately.

"Celegwen, I know you're tired, but we'll need to keep up the pace."

"I'll be fine," she reassures you, straightening up a bit. "But I would greatly prefer to avoid casting any spells until I can rest again. I cannot silence our steps or voices-"

Ray is growling, fur standing on end as his attention focuses on something beyond your sight or hearing. The elf whips her head around, silver hair bobbing from the sudden motion. Her lengthy ears twitch, and she looks to you all with fear in her eyes.

"We've stayed here for far too long."

Ofelia grabs you by the arm. "Move!"

(2/3)

>>3888586
You're pulled you into a run towards the door you motioned towards moments earlier. Ray bounds after you all as you tear out of the library. You all fly down a series of passageways, books leering out from every corner. You have to constantly nudge Ofelia to make the right turns down the countless winding and branching pathways, but not even a few minutes pass by before three imps nearly crash into you all. Shorter than Ray but stockier, clad in torn parchment, ribbons and warped leather, they gnash their teeth and move to attack.

The passage can't be more than 10ft across. You whip your head around, looking behind you for a way out- and see two more imps crawling along the ceiling, heading your direction. There's no telling how many more heard the fight and are on their way.

Ofelia fearlessly grabs onto your sleeve with one arm, and brandishes the demon's head with another, tearing off the cloth and screaming at the imps in either direction, "STAY BACK!"

The imps actually hesitate for the briefest of moments. She seizes the opportunity to push forward towards the three demons on the ground, taking you with her. She gives you a wink, and waves the head higher. "HE'S TAKEN THE FORM OF THE PRIEST! THE ONE THAT'S BEEN KILLIN' ALL YER FRIENDS-! STAY BACK, OR HE'LL GETCHA' TOO!"

You know you shouldn't be bothered by her words- but this is not what you agreed to. You know the clergy think you're no better than a demon, but this? Regardless of how Ofelia wants you to interpret her words, it would be sacrilege to impersonate one.

The imps on the ceiling, creeping towards you all, are still slowly proceeding forward. The three imps ahead have stopped completely- they're not even five feet away. Their smashed and grotesque faces look extremely confused. You aren't sure if they can even understand Ofelia's language, let alone her words, but she seems to have distracted at least some of them. They're wielding melee weapons- one has a makeshift spear, and the other two seem to be holding daggers. You might be able to take them, but with more demons on the way, you don't want to waste another second.

You're upset, but you're much more level-headed than usual. This is no time to lose your composure. There has to be a way to help your cause.

>A) Rush the demons on the floor with your shield. Hold them at bay until everyone else can get by, and run for your life the moment you're able. You have no idea how many more demons are approaching, and you aren't sticking around to find out.

>B) Chuck the severed arm at the demons on the ceiling, and get out your mace. Fight them all. More may be coming, but you can at least mitigate some of the problem now. Tell everyone what direction to run in, and catch up as soon as you can. You've got long legs and know this city's layout well- you can find them quickly.

>C) Write-in.

>>3888587
Move to the head of the column with our shield up and barrel thru every demon that gets in the way, they have shorter weapons than us, we have a mace and gwen has a sword even if they tried to attack they wouldnt be able to do much if we are on the move, ofelia can keep up the charade to at least confuse them a bit. Keep Ray to our exposed side.

>>3888587
this >>3888652
move and move quickly

>>3888587
>A

Too many demons in this tomb. We need some kind of area sanctification prayer.

>>3888652
Are we the best choice for a bull rush when we're so light? It might actually be better to give Gwen our shield and have her do it.

>>3888723
Keep in mind these guys are imp so worse case scenario we jump over one. We also have the entire weight of the column behind us Richard cant quite get past one. And we could always pray to flesh to make sure we pulverized the tiny cunts, Im sure he would fucking love that too.

>>3888652
supporting.

>>3888723
>We need some kind of area sanctification prayer.
Will make a note of this. The options are a little conflicting, so we'll be going with the majority here for

>>3888652
>>3888654
>>3888791
>>3888802
All this. Vote is locked! Writing now.

>>3888862
The knotted flesh adorning your knuckles grates against the handle of your shield as you tighten your grip. Flashing Ofelia a look of reassurance, you charge forward towards the imps lining the floor.

Chaos immediately ensues.

https://youtu.be/PCZjnuS6ESc

The imp with the spear hangs back, attempting to sweep your legs out from under you as his allies charge straight towards you. The three imps on the ceiling scurry forward instantaneously, realizing the ploy. Ofelia lets out a shot, chucking the severed head at the imps heading towards your companions.

Having an extreme height advantage over the few imps before you, you jump clear over all three of your attackers, barely dodging the blow to your feet. You're extremely light on your feet, landing deftly on the other side of the corridor. ...so much so that you're unsure of whether or not you can lay into even a few imps. Ofelia, Celegwen and Ray all charge from the opposite side, and you hold your ground, praying that you can withstand their attack. You see Celegwen and Ofelia draw their blades, and Ray leaps at the throat of the closest imp. They don't see the attack coming- their back turned as they charge towards you and you alone.

Crouching down, you toss the severed arm aside, grabbing hold of your mace as you pray for the strength to endure. You are practically knocked off your feet from a single attack by the squat demons. Your wasted muscles strain against the effort, but you valiantly lean into the next series of blows.

Glancing over the top of your shield for a split second, you see Ray tearing into the closest imp with his teeth. Celegwen deflects a blow away from your mastiff with her short sword as one of the other imps tries to take down your companion. A prayer jumps to your lips, to invoke flesh and withstand the next attack from the spear-wielding demon- but Ofelia appears out of the shadows and drives her dagger into its back before it can even see her coming.

The imps behind your companions, crawling along the ceiling, drop down to the floor. You run forward, bashing the last imp with the dagger as hard as you can against a nearby wall, shouting, "run! Go!"

The squat monster behind you is practically the size of your shield. Sweat intermingles with blood as the creature slips a hand out from behind your assault, slicing open your sleeve in a valiant attempt to distract you. It doesn't work- you are far too used to dealing with its kind. You bring your attention behind you, jumping back and deflecting a thrown dagger from one of its companions down the corridor. They're running towards you, tearing off pieces of their body and throwing them like knives at you and your friends.

Your heart sinks. Unmistakably, the sound of more demons can be heard on the periphery of your vision. You deflect another two horned dagger with your shield. There's no time to stay and fight. You turn and run.

(1/2)

File: Abandoned Church of Mercy.jpg (518 KB, 1920x1080)

518 KB JPG

>>3888910
It's altogether too difficult to deflect every attack being thrown at you- and you can feel yourself falling behind your companions, as you have to stop constantly to turn and shield another barrage. You do break away from the small imp that was harassing you, outpacing the rest within minutes, snaking through the piles of books, using the protruding cases for cover whenever you can.

The sound of pursuit is hot, but there's something up ahead that makes your heart race- the sound of your friends fighting.

With renewed effort, you push yourself, running as fast as your legs can carry you through the tilting and scattered books towards your friends. You emerge in what you recognize as an old Church of Mercy.

Your heart catches in your throat, absolutely smitten by its beauty. Impossibly, light filters through holes poked in the ceiling by age and wear. Colored glass adorns the far end of the hall, amplifying the light as it dances around the room, reflecting and refracting off of hundreds of books that have been crammed into every shelf and pew. You're on the second floor of the building, and look down off the balcony to see your friends below, fighting for their lives.

There are five more imps on the floor below, hanging back slightly. You can see the smoking corpse of another, space having been stolen away from its chest as Celegwen clearly had blasted it just moments before with a spell. Ofelia chucks a dagger at another, keeping her back to Ray as he snarls viciously at the incoming predators.

It's at least a 20ft drop to the floor. This building may have been sacred, once- but it has clearly fallen into disrepair over the years. You could surely draw on it for aid, but there's no telling how many demons you'd be able to fend off here, or for how long.

>A) Pray to Flesh for strength, and jump down to aid your friends. Fend off the attack, and continue running for your lives.

>B) Bask in the light of Mercy. Pray to Her to protect you all, and let your allies do the fighting as you escape.

>C) You've made it this far with your own two hands- push yourself a little further. Take the stairs, and get the jump on the imps with your mace and shield. You might be able to create a distraction.

>D) Write-in.

>>3888914
>>C) You've made it this far with your own two hands- push yourself a little further. Take the stairs, and get the jump on the imps with your mace and shield. You might be able to create a distraction.
You need not call on the Gods to enact their Will. Plus, it's probably what Flesh and Mercy would both want. Self-sacrifice is Merciful, and Flesh wants us to become the best we can, so we must push ourselves.

>>3888914
>>A) Pray to Flesh for strength, and jump down to aid your friends. Fend off the attack, and continue running for your lives
I'm not stuck here with you, YOU ARE STUCK HERE WITH ME

>>3888914
>>A) Pray to Flesh for strength, and jump down to aid your friends. Fend off the attack, and continue running for your lives.

>>3888914
>>A) Pray to Flesh for strength, and jump down to aid your friends. Fend off the attack, and continue running for your lives

>>3888914
>B

We are in a church of hers

>>3888919
>>3888922
>>3889043
>>3889044
>>3889059
Thanks for your patience, as always. I do badly want to integrate all of these votes, but our dear priest is in pretty rough shape. Going to go with the majority here for A, but I'll see what I can do. Writing now!

>>3889114
There is no fear in your heart as you take a few steps back from the edge of the railing, readying yourself to jump. While you wish to respect Flesh's wishes and exert your own strength, you know that you are in no shape to fight off this volume of demons on your own.

Not without His help.

Grasping onto your holy symbol, you place your trust in the Gods.

"Light is Your vessel, made ready in weakness. Willing is the Father, here, in the house of the Mother! Hear me- Flesh of my flesh! Deliberate now is my tension- intent on exerting Your will! Aid this humble form! Grant me your strength!"

Before the last words leave your lips, heat courses through your skin. It's as if you were set aflame. Smoke curls and pools along your myriad scars, streaking behind you in plumes of red as you tear across the hardwood floor and clear over the balcony. Shield and mace at the ready, you can't help but cry praise to the God of the Material as you soar over the fight below.

Thunderously, you land on both feet, feeling the surge of the recoil and the subsequent burn as Flesh works to immediately mend the torn muscle and hairline cracks in bone. The five imps that are tormenting your friends all whip their heads around to see the source of the sound.

You clearly see now that they are all outfitted with makeshift weapons- sharpened quills, splinters of bookshelves made into makeshift bats, and bits of their own bodies torn off for combat.

Ray doesn't hesitate as you land, clearly emboldened by the site of you. The mastiff leaps towards one of the demons the moment it lets its guard down, and you rush forward to protect your dog in turn. Ofelia and Celegwen seem utterly stunned by your entrance, momentarily lowering their guard. You call out to them, your voice deepened by the blessing of Flesh. "Run! To the west- look for the arched doors! We'll hold them off! GO!"

Both women look utterly floored at the site of you, and move to leave, but the imps rapidly regain their composure and surround your friends. You can't fight the demons all off at once, and settle first on helping Ray. The mastiff is trying to lock his jaws around an imp outfitted with a banner made of parchment, pale yellow and dripping with ink. The creature has a makeshift weapon in its hands made of wood, and your hound is locked with the creature. Ofelia and Celegwen both have their weapons drawn, backing up best as they can, but the imps are closing in fast.

(1/3)

>>3889226
You charge forward, bashing the imp on Ray aside with your shield, leaning hard into the blow. Despite your lithe frame, heat and energy sears into your muscles, burning like hot coals under your flesh from the impact. You can feel the wood bend against your forearm as you knock aside the creature's form, sending it staggering as you run past it. Your hound tosses a few splinters into the air as he's forced to loosen his grip, and the two of you exchange glances as you turn your attention towards the other attackers.

The two imps that were closing in on your friends redouble their efforts.

Wood strikes metal and bone as Celegwen and Ofelia try their best to hold the line. Exhaustion is written cleanly across Celegwen's face, as she merely keeps her staff in hand to deflect a strike, seemingly unable to cast anything else. Ofelia leaps to her aid as an imp tries to target the weakened sorceress with a spiked, sword-like appendage, no doubt ripped clean from another demon's body. As the rogue struggles to fight back against the demon, you give a shout, and charge into the fray.

There's a cry as the halfling loses her hold on her dagger. The demon's weapon comes down, hard, scraping along Ofelia's arm and clean through her cloak. You close the distance between you all in a few strides, leaping forward with as much force as your limbs can muster. The sharpened, blood-caked iron of your mace makes perfect contact with the shoulder of the demon, carving away at its toughened tissue.

You dig deep, letting out a cry as you force your limbs to work. A spray of blood, black as night, surges forward from the site of the wound as you cleave its limb away, taking the weapon with it. Righteous fury drips from you and your limbs as you unstick your own weapon and glare at the creature. It screams back at you, completely changing its focus and seemingly invulnerable to the pain you've surely caused it.

Clutching her arm, Ofelia backs up in front of Celegwen. You turn to her for the briefest of moments as you deflect an attack from another one of the imps. You bring your shield overhead, catching a dagger from a demon approaching from the rear of the Church. Despite the heat coursing through your body, your holy symbol is hotter still. Mercy is no doubt watching over you. You want to praise Her, but with the more pressing need of your friend's safety, you shout to them instead. Every sinew in your arms, your healed shoulder, your back and chest heave as you lean into the next blow from the demons you face. Your shout barely carried over its screams.

"Ray-"

You gesture with your mace towards the women, barely fending off the next attack. Ofelia seems hurt, but is still standing as best as she can. A thin sheen of sweat on Celegwen tells you that she isn't faring much better.

"-guard them! Ofelia, Celegwen, please! GO! Run!"

(2/3)

>>3889227
There's no hesitation from your mastiff as he backs away from his own attacker, snarling and drooling at the imps eyeing your friends. The demons clearly are trying to pick off your weaker allies.

Celegwen's voice, deliberate and exhausted, carries over your shouts in an incantation as you bring your mace down again on the imp by your side. Her starlight intertwines with a spray of blood, the billowing smoke and the light of Mercy filtering through her spell. Another imp falls to the floor, a gaping hole persisting where its face once was. Your friends turn and run, and you dive towards them, shield at the ready, trying with every fiber of your being to stave off the attack.

As soon as their backs are turned, the imps redouble their assault. A spear made of cartography tools roped together soars through the air towards Ray- you jump clear across a nearby pew, glancing the blow away with the edge of your shield. Chunks of wood splinter and fall to the floor along with the weapon. You count four more imps approaching from the rows further down the aisle.

Desperately, you turn to see Celegwen and Ofelia making their way out of the church, towards the front of the building. Ray leaps faithfully after them, and you closely follow, shield at the ready. Your hound barks viciously at the projectiles and pursuing imps, and you slowly fall behind your friends, doing your best to fend off the attack. Ducking behind a nearby pillar, you narrowly dodge another dagger. Sweat and smoke is pooling from your frame as your Flesh begs for more strain, more work. You tear off towards your friends, clearing a huge distance between yourself and the imps and buying a few precious seconds of time.

Approaching the front of the building, you see a series of fallen paintings and shelves. It looks as if a wall had collapsed near the front of the church. Either the structure is weaker than you suspected, or something larger had come through here recently. Another series of daggers soars overhead, two clipping your robes. Blood seeps into the black fabric, as the skin stings and tears... but Flesh works itself over in moments, leaving nothing but fresh scars in their wake. You are barely phased- far more concerned with your pursuers.

Ray lingers a moment near the arched doors leading out of the building, whining and snarling, looking to you for permission to leave as Celegwen and Ofelia struggle with the old wood and glass. The imps seize the opportunity, and you scarcely have time to react as the demons put all of their focus on your vulnerable allies.

(Options in next post)

>>3889228
>A) Protect your friends at all costs. Use your shield, and your body if you must. Buy them a few more moments to escape. Invoke Mercy while Flesh is still with you, if it comes down to it. In a place of Her worship, you're far less likely to be taxed by the effort.

>B) Go on the offensive. Use the fallen pillars as a battering ram. Break down the door as fast as you're able. Your friends may get hurt- but you need to escape, and you need to do so as quickly as possible. Use the debris as a weapon if you have time. You can heal your allies once you escape- but the longer you stay here, the more dire the situation will become.

>C) Write-in.

>>3889230
>A) Protect your friends at all costs. Use your shield, and your body if you must. Buy them a few more moments to escape. Invoke Mercy while Flesh is still with you, if it comes down to it. In a place of Her worship, you're far less likely to be taxed by the effort.
THEY DID SO MUCH FOR US
TIME TO GO BERSERKER TO SAVE THEM AND BUY THEM TIME

>>3889230
>A) Protect your friends at all costs. Use your shield, and your body if you must. Buy them a few more moments to escape. Invoke Mercy while Flesh is still with you, if it comes down to it. In a place of Her worship, you're far less likely to be taxed by the effort.

>>3889230
>>A) Protect your friends at all costs. Use your shield, and your body if you must. Buy them a few more moments to escape. Invoke Mercy while Flesh is still with you, if it comes down to it. In a place of Her worship, you're far less likely to be taxed by the effort.

>>3889230
>A

Double channeling yes

File: Group Hug Colored.png (3.55 MB, 4000x2668)

3.55 MB PNG

>>3889246
>>3889247
>>3889277
>>3889291
Got a bunch of homework to do tonight, but update will be out in no more than 3 hours from now. Hope a sympathy doodle makes up for the delay!

>>3889504
Vote is locked! Writing now.

>>3889698
A wave of demons encroaches on the periphery of the church. Another half a dozen are visible near the altar, while the imps closest to the entrance throw everything they have at your allies. You have but a second to react. Even with Flesh's blessing, there's no way you could hope to reach them in time.

You don't need to speak to invoke the Goddess of Mercy. You don't need to run forward, shield at the ready, throwing yourself in the line of fire to protect your friends. You don't need to look to the pews overflowing with blasphemy, as more demons file towards you all, not even waiting until you're within reach to try and attack you.

You don't need to do any of these things, yet, you cast aside all hope of self-preservation, and call out to the Goddess.

"Mercy!"

https://youtu.be/rhjvBRUd0RM

Gold and heat sears forth from your hands, the altar, and the light above. Intermingling with the trails of red smoke pouring off of your burning muscles, the molten blessing flares above and around your allies like a shield for the briefest of moments, dropping the imp's first assault to the floor. The radiance utterly consumes their weapons. Their metal sears and smolders, pressing into the snakes of the God's and Goddess' manifestation. Our manifestation.

There is no trace of your own sight left as you skid to a halt in front of your companions, eyes burning with gilted crimson. A dagger soars through the air, impaling your shield as you catch it a second before it can reach Ray. Five more follow. You race to deflect them, ablaze with divinity. Your muscles are worked to their limit, your flesh feeling as if it's boiling with heat as the God tears down your muscle and Mercy works to rebuild it. As each weapon sinks into your shield, pushing you back, you push yourself harder, farther, lusting for more of the burn.

The imps are rapidly closing in on you all, and it seems like even more are on their way. You realize you can't possibly hope to guard everyone. Ofelia and Celegwen seem to be giving up on dislodging the swollen wooden door from its position, and the elf looks ready to try and break the glass.

Madness licks at the edges of your voice as you struggle to speak through the will of both deities, breathing hard, heat seeping off of you. You're desperate to get your allies into a safer position, and force yourself to command them. "Stay together! Behind me! Be careful-!"

Ray is distraught, barely able to recognize your voice, but he heeds his master's gestures, tail down and snarling as he and Ofelia dive behind your shield. It's not nearly large enough to protect you all. You have to move yourself out from behind it slightly, and are almost immediately impaled by one of the demon's weapons as they close in.

(1/2)

>>3889796
The pain hits you, hot and intense- not unlike when you were last with Mercy. Your eyes cloud over slightly, breath hitching as you lean into the blow. You know the wound is severe, but you're far from distraught. You want more.

Ofelia looks up to you, terrified, as you clearly relish pulling out the barbed instrument. Smoke and gold usher forth, into and from the site of the wound. The skin and muscle knitting back together before Your eyes. A lascivious burn works through the impact as another weapon strikes at the arm pulling out the dagger- and another one grazes past your shoulder.

There is a demon just ahead, perched on one of the pews, working in tandem with its allies to keep a safe distance while they barrage you all. Not a one seems to be approaching any further- which is fine by you.

Ofelia's voice registers over the haze of heat and violence as she shouts to Celegwen, "hurry! Please!"

The sorceress takes a deep breath, and slams her staff into the colored glass of the tremendous doors behind you all. It shatters in all directions. You dive backwards, raising your shield overhead and embracing your friends as best as you can.

Radiance flares forth from your shield, just barely extending the radius of your protection as hundreds of lethal panes crash down. Both women scream, throwing their arms overhead, trying to shield their face and eyes. A waterfall of painted agony crushes into your barrier, the weight of it splintering bone and shredding tissue. The sound is deafening, but it's the least of your concerns.

A number of daggers pelt into your back. You can't quite discern how many. Your body- Their vessel- is an inferno of sensation. You're completely overwhelmed by the pain and pleasure, indecently crying out as you release your friends. It's all you can do to try to push them away from the carnage, utterly overwhelmed.

Ray is not having it, though Celegwen and Ofelia both immediately sprint ahead for their lives. Your mastiff stays close, and you shield him best as you can. Your hound knows you're hurt, too faithful for his own good.

The imps, seeing they've done something to wear down your defenses, move in to swarm. You keep your shield ahead of Ray, completely covering his body- and woefully failing to protect your own. There are 11 imps that you can count, running straight at you- and 3 more just entered the Church. As much as it hurts you, you push Ray away, commanding him with as much force as you can muster.

"OBEY me, Ray. RUN!"

Whining, tail down, the mastiff flees, gingerly running over the broken glass, and tearing off after your companions once again. You were so distracted, you almost didn't notice- the are two imps that have come right up behind you, and the rest are in hot pursuit. You swing your mace around, back aflame, as you fight for your life.

(Options in next post)

>>3889801
>A) Channel Flesh's blessing and overpower the wave of imps through sheer strength. Allow Mercy to tend to your wounds- her healing is slower, but She will surely do Her best to protect you while you lay waste to your foes. You can't deny yourself the sensation.
>B) Channel Mercy's blessing, and defend yourself as best as you're able against your attackers. Extract the weapons that hit you, and have Flesh rapidly heal the injury. No matter how much stronger the God's blessing is while you're injured, you can't risk the catastrophic damage the blades are no doubt causing.
>C) Write-in.

>>3889805
>>B) Channel Mercy's blessing, and defend yourself as best as you're able against your attackers. Extract the weapons that hit you, and have Flesh rapidly heal the injury. No matter how much stronger the God's blessing is while you're injured, you can't risk the catastrophic damage the blades are no doubt causing.

>>3889805
Channel flesh and use it to carry pews to barricade the broken window as we leave

>>3889805
>B

>>3889966
Bro we're fighting like 14v1

>>3889805
>B) Channel Mercy's blessing, and defend yourself as best as you're able against your attackers. Extract the weapons that hit you, and have Flesh rapidly heal the injury. No matter how much stronger the God's blessing is while you're injured, you can't risk the catastrophic damage the blades are no doubt causing.
FOOLS! I REGENERATE FASTER THAN YOUR PUNY BRAINS CAN THINK!

>>3889805
>>B) Channel Mercy's blessing, and defend yourself as best as you're able against your attackers. Extract the weapons that hit you, and have Flesh rapidly heal the injury. No matter how much stronger the God's blessing is while you're injured, you can't risk the catastrophic damage the blades are no doubt causing.

>>3889805
>>B) Channel Mercy's blessing, and defend yourself as best as you're able against your attackers. Extract the weapons that hit you, and have Flesh rapidly heal the injury. No matter how much stronger the God's blessing is while you're injured, you can't risk the catastrophic damage the blades are no doubt causing.

>>3889806
>>3889966
>>3890102
>>3890177
>>3890198
>>3890798
Hey guys, thanks for your patience today. I've been absurdly busy but I'll get at least one update out before tonight.

>>3890896
Thanks again for bearing with me. Locking the vote, writing now!

>>3891036
Flanked by attackers and with another dozen en route, it's everything you can do just to fend off the assault. Right arm braced against your shield, robes torn and bloody, you raise your defense with precision. You block a swing from an imp on one side of you, taking in the full force of their blow. The wasted muscle screams at the shock of it as they nearly knock you back.

You stay in place, using your left hand to swing up your mace. The thin limb trails with smoke and gold, catching a blow from the imp to your other side. The metals of your weapons spark and tear against each other, the demon's short sword grating against your mace. The shrill screech echoes throughout the church, sending the imps into a frenzy. You swing your weapon down, and try to jump backwards. Pulling away from the two imps beside you is all you can manage as the rest quickly catch up.

The swarm is more coordinated than any you've ever seen. You dodge backwards from another dagger thrown at your face, and swing your shield aside to deflect two more. The pain in your back is exquisite in its intensity. Your chest heaves from exertion, your breath short even with Flesh's blessing. Your muscles tense and tear, breaking down while the God pours himself into keeping your back from becoming irreparably damaged. The serrated and barbed metal twists deeper with each passing moment, eliciting more noise from you, clouding your thoughts as you struggle to survive.

Flesh courses his blessing through the agonizing burn, mending the skin and keeping you on your feet. You keep backing up, deflecting blow after blow with inhuman precision and speed. Each battery hits harder than the last, but Mercy works through the frayed nerves, the tortured motions. She gifts you with pleasure, giving you the strength to endure and the will to take on more.

There's no respite from the attack as the demons close in. All 14 creatures are on you, weapons in hand, practically climbing over one another to overwhelm your defenses. You push yourself to the limit, and dive over two over them, seeing the slightest opening. You cry out as you land, feeling the blades embedded in your back slink dangerously close to your spine. Keeping your shield out, you drop your mace, and twist back, grasping the handle of one of the daggers as tightly as you can.

Hesitation is not an option.

You think of soft gold and light as you pull out the blade in one swift motion.

Stars explode before your possessed and metallic eyes, blood pooling down your back, Flesh flooding the wound as you cry out.

"Mercy-!"

An explosion of radiance bursts forth. The imps screech in agony, blinded momentarily by the light. You stagger backwards and break out into a run, throwing the dagger aside and diving behind a pew for cover while the demons are stunned.

(1/3)

>>3891322
There isn't any time to spare. You reach back to grab another one of the blades embedded in you. You can tell there are three remaining, as your flaming skin finds its purchase. Already, you hear the imps recovering from your defense, and you set to frantically pulling out another one of the weapons. Feverishly, you pray to the Goddess,

"Steady these hands! Through restraint and compassion- the Father beseeches you! Grant this vessel Your aid! MERCY!"

A scream escapes from you as you pull out the blade with a single motion. The barbed and jagged edges take away a significant amount of flesh as you extract it. The crimson viscera cuts across the pews as you tear the weapon out. Blood and gore arcs through the air as you hurl the dagger back at your foes. It only takes a moment to look up over the pew, and the risk is well worth it. One of imp's screams are cut short as the dagger embeds itself into the the monster's skull.

The remaining 13 imps swarm over the pews, headed straight towards you. Your head is swimming, intoxicated by the anguish, but Flesh keeps you moving, burning into your limbs, your lungs, your heart. You dive under the pews before you, your back aflame, and come up for only a second to find cover behind another pillar, close to the exit. The moment you emerge, three more daggers are thrown at you. The Goddess extends Her compassion, and the weapons soar just past your face. The edge of one of the blades, slick with poison, catches on the side of your cheek. It snags an old scar, tearing open the pallid flesh and dripping toxin along the gaunt bone and tightened skin. Smoke and heat pours forth, expelling the poison while you feel for the other daggers.

An imp comes around the side of the column just as you take hold of one of the weapons in your back. Distracted, you don't react in time as it tries to drive a sword straight into your stomach. You scarcely move in time, its blade cutting into your side. You gasp in agony and elation, tearing out the third dagger, uncertain if the torture is endurable by a mortal man. The cracks in the edges of your mind deepen, the fractures in your soul barely bound together by the embrace of Mercy and Flesh.

You are either screaming or gasping as the blade slides completely out from your body. It's hard to tell. You're losing yourself.

You swing your shield up before the imp in your face, taking on another swing from its sword, your arm aflame with exertion and begging for release- but you can't stop. You slam your shield into the demon, charging forward, driving the dagger in your hand into its neck as quickly as you can. It still endures, gurgling and screaming as it pushes back against your shield, alerting its allies and desperately trying to attack.

(2/3)

>>3891324
You stab again, frantically trying to make an exit. The other demons clearly heard you- you see a dagger streak by the side of the pillar, and another follows after that. You leave the pillar behind, stabbing the demon yet again. Tossing its limp body aside, you dive below the rubble on the floor of the ruins.

Sliding over the broken and stained glass, your robes hook and catch on the sharp panes, but it hardly slows you down. You're so slender that you easily get beneath a fallen pillar, collapsed next to a collection of destroyed paintings and stone. It's all you can do to leave yourself an opening to escape, as you take hold of the last dagger in your back.

The screams of the imps behind you are too close for comfort. The edges of the world soften, and you feel the hands of the Goddess on you as you rip out the final source of pain.

"M-Mercy...!

You draw blood from your own lip, biting down hard to try and muffle the scream. Flesh pays the minor wound on your face no mind, pouring into the raw and exposed tissue along your shoulder blades, your spine, the dip in your back. You can feel the heat and smoke as he burns into you, mending the exposed skin. Every inch of you wants to lay down and die, but Mercy eases you into the pain, granting relief through the very sensation that's causing you so much agony.

It's more than a man can take. The crimson and gold radiating through you threatens to overflow. Euphoria blends into terror, as you struggle to keep hold of both deities at once. You find yourself digging your fingers into the cut on your side, drawing out more pleasure and relief as the God and Goddess work to mend your wounds. The edges of your mind are fraying, softening, burning.

The rubble behind you shifts as one of the demons throws an entire sword into it. There must be 12 of them left, if no more have entered the Church- and you suspect that more will be coming. You can scarcely think, adrenaline coursing through you. Your blood is aflame, your lungs on fire.

You want to rest- to stay with the God and Goddess indefinitely.

...but you can't stay still. You have to act if you want to survive.

(Options in next post)

>>3891327
>A) Maintain your hold on both deities for long enough to try to escape out of the main entrance. Drop Their blessing the second you have distance between yourself and the imps. Lead the pursuit into the ruins. Try and lose them. It will tax you greatly- but you can't bear to release Flesh or Mercy a second sooner.

>B) Release Mercy to try and stave off the madness. Try to pick off the demons one at a time with Flesh's aid. Find a better position in the Church, and do everything you can to destroy them. You won't leave until they're dead- even if it takes everything out of you.

>C) Release Flesh to try and preserve your sanity. Maintain your connection to Mercy, and try to sneak out of the church with Her protection. This is a battle you don't think you can win through sheer force alone. Try to find your friends without leading the imps back to them- no matter how long it takes.

>D) Write-in.

>>3891331
>>C) Release Flesh to try and preserve your sanity. Maintain your connection to Mercy, and try to sneak out of the church with Her protection. This is a battle you don't think you can win through sheer force alone. Try to find your friends without leading the imps back to them- no matter how long it takes.