Squinting, you peek out the window, and sure enough, there is a horseman in full armor plating, followed by a retinue of knights with more ordinary soldier’s garb, yelling at one of the peasants wandering around.
You notice Paracelsus join you at the window out the corner of your eye, though you had heard her claw-tipped feet strike the ground before. She’s not as stealthy as she once was.
“What’s he saying?” You ask. Paracelsus doesn’t sound very impressed as she explains:

“From the start? He’s lord Borous, emissary of the Count of Lensey. That’s this region, by the by. His men have been riding hard, and he demands for food and rest."
Paracelsus' tone goes from unimpressed to disgusted pretty quick, a faint undertone of gravel taking hold on her already rather low voice.
"For free, of course, as he’s calling upon the King’s Chosen law.”
You don’t like the sound of that.

You don’t like the sound of that.
“Do I want to know?”
“You don’t, so I’ll explain: King’s Chosen is a general law placed by the king that means his vassals, and vassals of vassals, are able to call upon his majesty’s authority to attain necessities. ‘Necessities’, however, has become a very broad term indeed. A warrior fights best when he knows what he fights for, after all… So, clearly, it is necessary to have stock of a town’s women. Their bread. Their ale. Everything.”
The lovely doctor doesn’t hide her disgust.
You look down, and see one of the soldiers ride forward, and grab one of the peasant women by the arm, roughly. The woman shouts in pain as she is hoisted in the air as the horse keeps running forward, yanking the woman off her feet before the soldier lets her go, letting her stumble forward and hit the ground, hard.

“Oh.” You say. “Oh, that I hate.”
Paracelsus just sighs, staring sadly out the window as the men begin to spread out.
“More than likely, the villagers here are hiding what they can. It’s going to be a rough season.”
Paracelsus begins to tap her fingers on the windowsill, clearly deeply frustrated.
“You can see why I consider a country this beautiful to be a pisshole regardless, I’m sure.”

... True, this is kind of a terrible look for the country, if people in positions of power so regularly abuse it.
You... should go do something about this.

>Step outside, ask Paracelsus to help translate, and tell them to act like proper knights.
They're here to defend these people, not terrorize them!

>It's none of your business.
As much as you despise the notion, you can't afford to make an enemy of the constabulary.

>Fire your shotgun out of the window at them.
This is an intrusive thought.

>Something that's a better idea.

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

Hello it's been a while.

>>5656105
>>Step outside, ask Paracelsus to help translate, and tell them to act like proper knights.

as easy as it would be to just let this go, I don't think our MC is the kind of man who would

also HI Spinejuice how have you been!

>>5656105

>Step outside, ask Paracelsus to help translate, and tell them to act like proper knights

Hello Spine
Hope you've been well

>>5656105
>It's none of your business.
We can't topple the government and reform an entire corrupt country, and drawing attention of that sort endangers the klan.
Welcome back, QM!

>“Do I want to know?”
>“You don’t, so I’ll explain:
classic Para-Sarah-Celsie
>>5656105
>>It's none of your business.
Sluicing these shitbags would make things worse for everyone, including the villagers, because presumably if anything happens to the knights, somebody is going to come back and check, and even if they don't just massacre the entire town for rebellion they'll just to a nastier version of whatever these poltroons had in mind.
Also, horrific Dragon Mutant thing that is barely tolerated by the people as it is, probably can't convincingly negotiate with the captain to Pursuade them to be considerate to their subjects.

I reckon that if we *do* make a scene here, the quest is going to lean towards, "Princess Para-Sarah-Celsie comes back from abroad to name herself the Platonic Philospher Queen of Fuckshit island," just from the cascading consequences of this action, and I don't think she wants to be a platonic philosopher queen in charge of her old country.

>>5656105
>It's none of your business.
It is local military acting according to rules of the land. As a foreign dragonkin knight and a merry band of kobolts, there's not much we can do without risking harm, and whatever we do will probably cause harm to the village in the long run. We need to focus on rounding up our group and belongings so that they don't fall victim to the soldiers. As foreigners, we technically shouldn't be subject to the King's Chosen law, but I doubt they're open to debating technicalities, and I'd rather make sure nobody lays a hand on Snikt.

Also, welcome back, Spinejuice. Hope the break helped.

"Well... as much as I despise this, I don't think I'm in any position to actually help the people here. If I step in, not only is that a considerable danger to our group... I suspect the village will suffer retribution, as well. Turns a hard winter into something worse, doesn't it?"
Paracelsus seems... disappointed.
"You're... right, of course. That said, we're still going to have to deal with them. As much as I like the people here, I doubt the whole town will remain quiet about us. We were welcome, but we aren't friends."
Of course...
"These knights, then... they bring in bounties as well?"
"That they do, of course... and really, only the blowhard yelling in the square is a knight. All the other men here are soldiers. Mostly mercenaries, of course. In this country, might makes right... in a sense."

You sigh. It's the same power structure demons like to use. You've spent enough time on your crusade to know that much. The biggest demon got the most loot, the most food, the most weapons, because they could beat down the other creatures. It made it mercifully easy to pick the targets to kill, if you wanted to rout an army of them. Kill the biggest collection, their bullmen, their pig kings... And the imps would scatter. That said, in a way... you suppose whatever is right has always been decided by blood, some places are just a bit more abstract about it. The people living in the sands of the demon wastes, though it was once their country by conquest, respected money above all. The richest man was the most important, and most revered. But money is just what is used to convince others to bleed for you. In Rosaria, it was honor. Following traditions. Religion was much the same way, though honor made was for righteousness.
You feel as though that abstraction is what separated men from beasts. Conversely, however...
"Might makes right, yes?"
"The threat of it. The biggest weapons, the better training. It gets you respect. In a sense, Reynauld... you're probably the main reason the village accepted us. You are likely the biggest warrior any of them has ever seen. You're even using a two-handed sword from here... One-handed, at that."
She smiles, and puts her hands on your bicep. She can't wrap her hands around it fully.
"My strong, capable knight."

You smile back to her, and then close the curtains. Then, you get dressed, waking the kobolts so they may do the same. Anna is suffering one hell of a hangover, but she manages to coordinate herself well enough that she can get dressed. You want to get out of here before things get heated, though you barely finished putting on your helm when you hear a knock at the door. The others are still finishing up, but you take your sword and answer the door anyhow.
The innkeeper is standing there, and he's talking... though you raise your hand a moment, and call Paracelsus over. She is still adjusting her gear, though she is able to translate.
"He's telling us that we should go as soon as possible, as he doesn't want any trouble.... and he also asks if our little friends would be willing to take his drinks with them, and bury them a distance out of town, at a specific point. He doesn't want those knights to drain his entire supply, you see. He can't pay us for this, though."

Hmm.

>Walking out the back with the innkeeper's stock is a bad look. It's a risk you don't want to take. That said, you'd better walk out the back either way.

>You can help the man out, of course.

> You'll walk out the front.
You'd essentially be daring the knight and his goons to intercept you. Not that you're looking for a fight, you're just not scared of them.

>>5658746
>You can help the man out, of course.
Least we can do for not turning us in.

>>5658746
Walk out the back and help the man.

>>5658746
>You can help the man out, of course.

>>5658746
>>You can help the man out, of course.
if we can, maybe ask him for ideas since he knows the situation on the ground better than we do.

>>5658746
>You'll walk out the front... with the booze.
Again, getting caught trying to help the innkeeper circumvent the law would probably be much worse for him than it would be to us. Might as well try to take the heat and claim ownership of the stock (at least until we're out of the town). Surely the knight wouldn't be so stupid as to attack a Rosarian emissary seeking audience with the king, right?

>>5658746
>>You can help the man out, of course.

You just nod, and your girlfriend confirms it. The man breathes a sigh of relief, and gives you a few more minutes to finish getting your gear together. Once that's done, however, you all have to hurry down the stairs, and you are brought to the cellar. Once there... well, it's a bit of a communications puzzle, as the barman explains, in detail, what needs to be done, after which Paracelsus needs to translate it. Best you can tell, you're taking the *expensive* drinks, while the swill that he sells on the cheap can stay here. While he doesn't like having it in his bar, because he has his professional standards, he still finds it useful to have it available... pretty much for situations like this.
Interesting tactic, and you're not super excited about the fact that people just have to account for king-backed bandits.
It's just... wrong.

Anyway, once everything has been piled together in (mostly) sorted piles, everybody is granted a backpack, with you getting the biggest one, and you all prepare to carry this outside. You're asked to bring it to a clearing in the woods, easy to spot due to it being at the top of a hill, with a singular, lonely tree standing proud. It's a popular spot for couples, apparently, and you're inclined to believe it. Once everybody is suited up... you're hurried out of the cellar exit. Not into the building, as you might get spotted, and then once you're outside, you stick to the back, to make sure nobody trips. These liquids are all very, very heavy, after all, and not just because of the glass.
The kobolts are all strong enough to handle it, though Anna ends up having to call uncle. You pick up her share with ease, and keep on walking. Just as you reach the edge of town, however... You hear a shout.

Paracelsus swears, and when you turn around, you see two knights on horseback, laughing as they approach, and yelling something in their guttural language.
Or maybe it's just guttural when they say it.
"They're telling us to stop in the name of the king." Paracelsus says... but as the knights see you and the others, their laughter turns to yeers.
"And they think we look funny." Paracelsus adds, sighing... and then you see the knights draw their blades, and call for something else:

Paracelsus sighs even deeper.
"And we need to come with them to Lord Borous, so he can decide what to do with freaks like us."

...Guessing from the swords, that's not a request, either.

>Try to talk your way out.
Paracelsus will translate.

>Fine. You're caught. Come with those two.

>Unsheathe your own sword, intimidate them into back down.

>Unsheathe your sword. They're not making a report.

>Burn them.

>>5660532
>>Try to talk your way out.

We killed an honest to god mad mage, these chumps will be nothing but still, we should do the right thing and try to talk first

>>5660532
>Talk our way out
We are here from Rosaria, and are a licensed (?) knight errnat of noble birth. Might be worth some consideration.

>>5660532
>>Try to talk your way out.
let us settle this amicably
also maybe tell Celsie that you are starting to understand why she left this place to begin with.

>>5660532
>Burn them.
Freaks? They have to pay just for that alone.

>>5660532
>Unsheathe your sword. They're not making a report.

>>5660943
while I am still in favor of talking it out I will note that we were already planning on digging a big hole.

"Paracelsus, can you translate?"
"I'll try... But I promise nothing."

Alright.

You begin to walk towards the men, raising your hands a bit:
"Gentlemen, please. I am a licenced knight from Rosaria... I'm sure there's no need for this to get ugly, right?"
Paracelsus translates you as quick as she can, though you can tell she isn't trying to imitate your more... diplomatic tone. Still, the soldiers both seem to pause at the mention of you being a knight. With your sword and your armor, you suppose it wouldn't be too hard to believe... though smuggling enough alcohol to to keel over a dragon might make your claims a bit more... suspect.

"Me and my people will be on our way shortly, so I'd just ask that you let us be on our way, alright?"
Paracelsus translates once more, but one of the soldiers just interrupts her. She listens to the man, and then turns to you:
"They don't believe you. Because a knight wouldn't try to weasel out of carrying what must be close to a thousand, if not two thousand, favor's worth of liquor. Not to mention, they don't believe the "Tyrant's Playground" is a place to respect."
The other soldier speaks as well, though it's a lot shorter.
"And that one says that we're a bunch of freaks."

You sigh.
"I'm looking for an audience with your king to help against that very thing. I have been cursed, you see;"
Paracelsus translates, and the soldiers both begin to laugh. One of them sputters something between his laughter.
"He says that the king has more important things to do than talk to something that would do better as a pair of shoes."

The implicit threat does not go unnoticed... And now the men begin to order their horses forward, flanking you. One of them starts speaking, and it lasts a bit. Paracelsus translates, and the amount of venom in her voice is unmistakeable. She hates these people.
"...He's telling us to drop what we've supposedly stolen, and that we are all to head back to Lord Borous... and that he will decide what to do with us."
Paracelsus actually hisses, at this point.
"We should kill these fools, Reynauld."

Well... there's no need to go that far, right?

>Offer them a bribe, instead. Some favor or... money?

>Find a good argument for these idiots to leave you be.
You just need to talk a little better!

>Fine. Unsheathe the sword and threaten them to either leave or die.

>Unsheathe your sword and kill the first man in the same motion, before you have the other one killed.

>Burn them.

>>5662272
>>Burn them

>>5662272
>Unsheathe your sword and kill the first man in the same motion, before you have the other one killed.
And while you're at it, throw in a Blinding Wisp to disorient and stall the second man.

>>5662272
>Burn them.
We tried the hard way. Now, they get the easy way.

>>5662272
>Burn them.
Disrespect my honor? Fine. Threaten my waifu by turning us into boots? Death.

>>5662272
>Unsheathe your sword and kill the first man in the same motion, before you have the other one killed.

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>>5662272
>Burn them.

>>5662272
>>Find a good argument for these idiots to leave you be.

Hold up a finger to get their attention, firebreath a nearby inconsequential object to nothing, ask if they still want to force the issue even though we tried to settle this nicely.

>>5662272
>>Unsheathe your sword and kill the first man in the same motion, before you have the other one killed.
This but kill the horses instead so they can't escape.

Why is time the inexorable bitch that she is how did this much time already pass
≠============

You did not appreciate the threat of being turned into shoes. And, you really can't afford to waste time on this chicanery, either. If you follow them, it's going to be a fight. If you let them run off, it's going to be a manhunt.

If all they find is a charred corpse or two...

"I am going to set these men on fire. Darling, could you take the one on the right?" You say, trying to sound pleasant to hide your violent intent to the still laughing dead men. Paracelsus nods, and you add in one detail:
"Don't burn the horses... They didn't choose their riders."

Then, just as the soldiers were raising their weapons to take you by force, you unleash hell. The first soldier didn't even have time to scream as you boil his body in the armor, melting the very skin off his bones and reducing what else remains to jelly. The horse screams and tears back in terror, causing the burnt corpse to flop out of the saddle before the horse sprints off into the forest, most unharmed, but for the flecks of prey that dribbled on the poor animal.

You peek over to the other soldier, and see that Paracelsus did not burn him with her firebreath... Instead, as his own horse rears back from the flames, you see Paracelsus snap her fingers, form a ring with her hands, and then blow fire through it. The flames disappear into nothing... But when you hear the man scream and instantly burst into flames, you understand where it went.

The man's eyes liquify, and his mouth is locked into a scream as fire blasts out of every orifice. The one mercy is that death must have been instant, at that point.

That horse runs off as well. Good.
You turn to the kobolts, who are all very impressed... Though Anna pints out:
"And that's the third body we've left in our wake. All deserved, don't get me wrong, but we sure aren't making friends in this dunghill of a country."
Fair...

Anyways, you can bury the barman's alcohol not much further from here, and then.... You need to consider how in the hell you are going to get your cart and, more importantly, tom-8-o's back! He's still in the town stable....

>Leave him
It hurts, but the town will find a use for him. Right?

>Head back into town as brazenly as you please, and just take your property and Tomatoes with you.
What are they going to do? Stop you?

>Send a stealth expert in.
Snikt is sneaky enough, but getting the cart and the horse out is a hell of an undertaking.

>Send Anna?
She's a masked goblin, but maybe not "special" enough to be pulled aside for questions

>>5664872
>>Head back into town as brazenly as you please, and just take your property and Tomatoes with you.
assuming there weren't any witnesses, just pretend nothing happened and we haven't seen any soldiers while we were out in the woods. Also since we're digging holes anyway, bury the bodies. they might suspect we have something to do with the riderless horses and the missing soldiers, but if there isn't a body there will be a much longer time before they realize what exactly happened.

undecided whether we should put the bodies in the same hole as the booze but if we put a layer of rocks on top they should be able to get the booze back without discovering the corpses.

>>5664872
>Send Snikt and Anna, to cover each other, if they're willing
>If not, we walk on in as a family/team

>>5664872
>>Head back into town as brazenly as you please, and just take your property and Tomatoes with you.

I mean fuck, in for a penny in for a pound, but we can kiss our audience with the King goodbye. No way this gets covered up and corruption and word of mouth are a powerful thing.

>>5664946
If asked, we should strongly imply the two knights abandoned their duties in order to engage in depraved sex acts with one another then ask if their leader has checked any nearby chicken coops and sheep paddocks since it is likely that he would find them there.

>>5664872
>Head back into town as brazenly as you please, and just take your property and Tomatoes with you.
No use half-assing things once the chips are down. We can send Anna and the 'bolts ahead with the booze and go back for Tom with just Sarah and Snikt.

As a side note, how likely are the people in this country to know the name Numitor? Noble descent seems to be a powerful tool here, and if we can ever use Reynauld's name to our advantage, we should keep that tool in our back pocket.

>>5664872
>Head back into town as brazenly as you please, and just take your property and Tomatoes with you.

What are the knights gonna do to us? Die in sad heaps in front of us?

>>5665133
The more cavalier we get about killing people, the faster our dragon instincts supplant our human ones. Remember the fugue state on the boat?

>>5665282
I can understand that, but also some people really do just need an ass kicking.

>>5664872
>Head back into town as brazenly as you please, and just take your property and Tomatoes with you

Forgot.

>>5665282
Reynauld's background suggests that he has been fairly cavalier about killing people for a long time as long as they're on the wrong side of the friend/enemy distinction, and it hasn't really been an issue so far in the story. The fugue state on the boat was less to do with killing the pirates, and more to do with the pirates threatening our treasure (our kobolts).
I am against killing the main body of the enemy for a variety of reasons (it would be a huge pain in the ass because unlike bandits, knights have friends) but Reynauld has always been a killer.
Now, if we go into a fugue state because the knights are trying to steal Tomoooooooo (and chesty. we still have chesty, right?) then we might have a problem we need to work on.

>>5665282
We should make an honest effort to not attack the soldiers and instead give them a chance to walk away. We can still fight back if they decide to engage us, but we shouldn't go in guns blazing. The only one I'd feel comfortable killing without a second thought is Borous himself.

>>5665487
Killing with fire, tooth, or claw, or doing so without an effort to defuse the situation will probably make it worse. Draconic nature includes regarding lessers as inferior and disposal, doesn't it? That's been the vibe I got. You're right, though. There's also lots of other goo reasons not to do so.

>>5666874
Yeah my basic idea isn't to go in picking a fight, it's to walk in pretending that nothing happened and we're just getting our stuff to continue on our merry way.

"...Bury the bodies, away from the alcohol." You command, and the kobolts waste no time at all gathering them and getting their hands dirty digging a fresh hole. In just a few minutes, a hole has been created, and the still-warm mess that was once those soldiers is tossed in, and filled up. There. That's out of the way, and now you can move on to step two.
You still have your cart, your horse, and Chesty waiting for you back in the town stables. Considering that you're already this far in, you decide against making this more complicated than it has to be.
"We're headed back to town, I need my damned cart." You say, a little surly after having to kill so early in the morning, and over such a stupid reason, besides... Anyway, nobody seems willing to complain, though you can tell that Anna and William are rather... concerned. They don't vocalize their concern, but you can tell from their awkward little shuffled and concerned looks, compared to the far more casual kobolts.
Pink even starts humming a song as you walk.

Once you enter the town, you enter the stables through the back, and you see a soldier is in the midst of appraising Tom-8-O's. You don't understand his mumbling, but you can tell he's not impressed. You move towards the man, then past him as you open the stall, making the man jump and babble something in his language. Paracelsus also replies to him, and... to your surprise, the man goes quiet. You get your horse out of the stable, and begin to hitch him to the cart, while the soldier runs outside. Guessing from the yelling, he's tattling on you. What a shame.
As you pull the cart out, however, you see the heavily armored blowhard standing before you... or, well, riding before you, on account of him sitting on the horse.
He babbles something, and like before, Paracelsus translates for you:
"He's telling you that Fae have no business in civilized society... and that this cart does not belong to you. He's claiming it in name of the king."
He adds something else, and Paracelsus sounds almost amused when she says:
"We can keep the horse, though, he finds it ugly."

You take a deep breath.
"Tell them that this is my cart... and that we are not fae."
Paracelsus does so, and the response is for the man to draw his sword. He doesn't seem intent on using it quite yet, but it's an obvious threat.
"He says that he knows a fae when he sees it."
"Uh-huh." You say, and you just have the cart pulled out. Ignoring the man and just getting the cart moving should be fine, but... well, unfortunately, it isn't.

"He's telling us to leave the cart in name of the king..." Paracelsus says, still sounding bored. "Aaaand that he is willing to take drastic action if you don't start obeying him."
....

>Keep ignoring him. Let him yell.

>Fine. Challenge him to a duel over it. Non-lethal.
They seem to respect strength here, yes?

>Burn him alive.

>Some other issue.

>>5668066
>>Fine. Challenge him to a duel over it. Non-lethal.
we should probably find a way to solve this particular issue without leaving a pile of bodies in our wake because it doesn't look like these soldiers are going to suddenly start being reasonable.

>>5668066
>Fine. Challenge him to a duel over it. Non-lethal.

He's gonna be surprised when he tries to hit us with a cold iron sword and it does bupkis.

>>5668082
we should disarm him, grab his wrist, and batter him with his own fist while Para-Sarah-Celsie yells "Stop hitting yourself" in the native tongue.

>>5668066
>Burn him alive. Claim his horse in the name of Rosaria.
So beyond giving a shit.

>>5668066
>>Fine. Challenge him to a duel over it. Non-lethal.
Maybe this will allow us to avoid escalation.

>>5668066
>Fine. Challenge him to a duel over it. Non-lethal.

>>5668066
>>Fine. Challenge him to a duel over it. Non-lethal.

>>5668066
>Fine. Challenge him to a duel over it. Non-lethal.
Break one of his hands. He'll be more or less harmless without the function of a hand.....just in case, crack him in the knee.
Fuck it take his loot and his horse too. Tom-8-ooo's could use a friend.

Maybe we should ask the wife later if she can teach us the local language as we travel.

>>5668458
I don't think we should take anything from him as a way of making a point but I agree with the rest. maybe bend his sword while we're at it.

>>5668458
>wife
I... Don't think we're married. May as well be at this point, though, I suppose.

>>5668872
the first time we casually referr to Para as our wife, her reaction is going to be delicious.

>>5669017
The way I see it, Sarah is much more likely to make that slip, and when she does, it'll break Reynauld's mind for a minute.

You take a deep breath... and then sigh.
"Paracelsus... They respect strength here, yes?"
"Obnoxiously so." Your darling replies, and you then ask the other important thing.
"Say I were to challenge him to a duel... Would he agree, and would it permit me to deal with him without killing him?"

Paracelsus seems surprised... and shrugs.
"Well... I suppose so, yes. We've already killed two of his men, though."
You close your eyes a moment, annoyed that she'd mention it... but you suppose that none of the soldiers would speak your language. So...
"Well, he doesn't know that. Could you tell him that he's been challenged?"
"You realize he isn't going to play nice, right? He'll intend to kill you;"

You look the corpulent man up and down, and confidently state:
"Better men than him have tried."
"Hmph. Don't underestimate him, all the same. He may be a blowhard, but you don't get to be an officer without knowing what you're doing."

Paracelsus then explains the idea, or so you assume, and the officer begins to laugh. He laughs for quite a while, and repeats the challenge to his men, who all begin to laugh alongside him. Some of them are even genuine about it, though most of them laugh because they work for the man. It's a familiar laugh to you, frankly, you've been there before. Fresh-faced nobleman's son in the crusades, officers making jokes about how more than half of the men present won't be alive tomorrow... typical stuff, really.
That lasts up until somebody hits the officer, or the officer gets his bones ripped out through his mouth. Demons were quite unpleasant with the higher ranking officers, likely in an attempt to intimidate the rank and file.
Or maybe because they were demons, and they found shiny armor to be funnier to ruin.

Oh, you should probably focus on the fight instead of memories you’ve done a pretty good job at repressing. You unsheathe your sword, while the officer climbs off his horse. He seems quite confident, despite your obvious advantage in reach and power. He uses a bastard sword, however, and it looks like he prefers to use a shield in his other hand.
Heavy all-round, the man must have quite a bit of muscle behind his apparently flab. It’s almost surprising that the man is an actual fighter, considering.

Anyway, you fight in your usual style, keeping your left hand free. Usually, you’d shoot him, but considering you don’t intend to kill the fool, you decide to limit yourself to grabs. As soon as you step into the middle of street, there is a short count-down.
“Fight goes until someone yields, Reynauld. Counting down…”

Three two one go isn’t that different between languages, it seems.
As soon as the fight starts, the enemy moves in fast, dashing forward and intending to slam against you with his shield, though you were fast enough to dash to the side, and attempt to hit him as he almost dashes past you… But he surprises you again, having hooked his foot around yours and almost pulling you off your feet, before he attempts to swing his blade down on your now outstretched leg.

You stop the attack by slamming the palm of your hand against the flat of the incoming blade, and pulling your leg back, only barely dodging the hit, still. He raises his shield against the coming counter-attack, but you simply stamp your foot down… and then thrust your other leg forward, pressing it against his shield and sending him stumbling back.

His guard remains up, and he recovers quickly.
This man is far more skilled than you had expected. This time, however, with the element of surprise gone, he begins to walk around you, keeping up a more defensive posture, and daring you to make the first blow.
Well, you oblige.
Your massive claymore swings from right, and he quickly adjusts his shield and lowers his posture, preventing the power of the hit from stumbling him, and as soon as the blade lands, he thrusts his bastard sword towards you… Which you had expected.

Once more, you sidestep, though he surprises you once more when, instead, he just slaps the flat of the blade against you. If he could, you suspect he would have turned the blade edge-wise towards you, but it seems he didn’t have the time or space.
The flat of the blade does nothing against you, and that seems to surprise him.
Cold iron, likely. Makes sense for him to expect more.

You grip his armored hand, and force his arm down, making him slam his shield against you to break free. You had expected this one as well, however, and you exhaled, making the hit slam against your broad, scaled chest. It hurts…but it opened him up to your next attack. You swing the underside of your sword over the shield, and strike him on the head with the pommel. His helmet rings out, and you hear the crowd cringe as the man stumbles back, dazed.

You keep up the assault. Gripping your blade with both hands, you swing it against his shield. With your full might and his ears still ringing, the knight stumbles again, which you stop by gripping the top of his shield. The straps help keep him upright, and with a kick to his sword arm, and a solid yank, you pull the shield off of his arm, tossing it to the side.

He takes a step back… and it’s clear that this is, apparently, an insult. Roaring, the man grips his bastard sword with a two-handed grip, and he swings at your head… Or so one would think.

.
His footing was off, and as you expected, he feints the swing, adjusting his grip, and turning into a downwards swing. Rather than sidestep it, you instead move in. The split second it takes him to change his swing, you slam your fist into his face.

He goes flying. Then, you quickly follow him as he goes down, stomping on his chest as he lands…and you place your blade against his throat.
“Yield.” You demand, and his response is an attempt at swinging his blade at you. A quick kick to his hand sends the blade flying, and your kobolts cheer. The soldiers stare at their defeated commander… and he snarls something.
“He has decided to yield.”

You step off of him, and he stands up, swearing. He screams something, and Paracelsus sounds incredibly amused as she says:
“He says we need to grab our cart and get out of his sight.”

Confidently, you step back to your cart, finally hook it up, and start walking. The soldiers all make distanse from the cart, and before long, you’re out of the town, quite pleased.
…

It took about an hour before the issues began.
Snikt called it out.

“There are two scouts following us on horseback. They’re keeping far back, I only noticed them because I went back to check.”

Seems… they didn’t trust you enough to go completely free;

>Let them. You’re not doing anything wrong.

>Turn around and ask them what their problem is.

>Kill them.

>>5671322
>Turn around and ask them what their problem is.
>If they start something, steal their horses, their gear, and break their knees. They can crawl back to town. Cold Iron will be useful if they have more of the stuff.

>>5671322
>Turn around and ask them what their problem is.
>Take their horses, their gear and send them packing with a message for their leader and all of their comrades: "The next one to follow us will die."

>>5671322
>>Let them. You’re not doing anything wrong.
wait for night fall, deal with them then.
>>5671329
cold iron is just regular iron/steel most of the time.

>>5671322

>Let them. You’re not doing anything wrong.

>>5671322
>Turn around and ask them what their problem is.
>Take their horses, their gear and send them packing with a message for their leader and all of their comrades: "The next one to follow us will die."

>>5671322
>>Let them. You’re not doing anything wrong.

let's not become this kingdoms BBEG

>>5672540
Honestly I feel as though that may become inevitable if any of them figure out who Celsie really is.

>>5672996
That is all the more reason to not draw any more attention to ourselves, find a mage, and leave.

"Well, we're not doing anything wrong by just walking. Let them shadow us for a time. We're headed to the next city anyhow, if I'm not mistaken?" You ask, and Paracelsus nods.
"Indeed. Best we head towards the town the fat man came from. Find some extra provisions, perhaps even find a guide. The best route takes us through fey country, and I'm afraid we're dreadfully interesting, Reynauld."
Hm.
"I take it that it's better not to be noticed?" you ask, and Paracelsus affirms your guess.
"Indeed. I don't think we'll-"

Her explanation is interrupted when you hear a small explosion behind you... and see that Snikt is performing tricks with her new fire breath, by belching out a bubble of fire that explodes a little later! Impressive, actually...
Teensy and Collar are both cheering in delight at the burst of light and sound, and quickly demand for her to do it again. Before long, Petrus and even Chad are looking at the incredible little tricks, with Snikt giggling as she loves the attention. That's quite unlike her, but on the other hand, there's something to be said for being adored by your family, compared to strangers.

"As I said. We're *not* subtle." Paracelsus says, though she can't hide the smile in her voice. "At any rate... It will take us a day or two, perhaps three, to reach the next town over. The blowhard will pass us, no doubt, to report back on what he has been able to procure, and likely to tell others that a horrible dragon has managed to defeat him through trickery, deceit and surreptitious cheating. Frankly, his defeat will be a blow to his reputation, so I wouldn't worry about the guards taking offense to us."
Paracelsus laughs, with no small hint of malice, as she adds:
"Not that they'd be able to stop us if they did! The animals that believe they own the place believe might makes right, after all!" She exhales smoke through her nostrils as she speaks. "We are plenty mighty."
You put a hand on her back, and she quickly snuggles up to you.
"Ahhh... You're always so warm." She says, and you can't exactly go against this surprise contact from her.

Still...
"You worry me when you speak like this, Paracelsus. Is there truly no love for your own kin?"
Paracelsus sniffs.
"Not for my kin. For this country, and the people that truly keep it running, for them, I have respect. Even love. But the animals in control... Those, I have issues with."

She grinds her teeth a moment.
"Many issues. Not just because they would not see me as an equal, and would have preferred to marry me off, considering women don't become warriors. Another incorrect assessment, of course, not to mention my studies put me leagues beyond them. And my travels have left them but *specks* on the horizon. Hardly worth looking back on."
You shake your head.
"Well... They're not pleasant, that's for sure."
"Quite."

The journey continues for a while longer, and the scouts keep following. Eventually, though... they disappear. The captain and his horsemen pass you by during the night, and they give you no mind. At noon tomorrow, you see the next city.
...You have enough supplies to last you a while longer, but Paracelsus still believes a guide would be a good idea. You head to the front gates, and see that there are two guards standing there. Tall, well-armored, and both wielding heavy flails. Shock troops, intended to be able to hold back a surprise assault as the archers on the walls would get ready.
They raise their hands as your party approaches, and Paracelsus steps forward. you can tell from her tone she doesn't give them an ounce of respect, but by the time she's finished speaking that strange language, they both seem to stand down.
"We're in. Declaring our business was all these lummoxes need." She says, turning back to you. "We should enter, find a guide, and leave. Don't forget that we're pricy."
"Noted. Now, we should..."
You gasp when ahead of you, you see a small market square. Nobody is at the stalls, currently, but there is a crowd all the same... With your prodigious height, you can see what is happening, as well.

A creature has been put in stocks. It looks like a boy, at first glance, but closer inspection shows that many things are plain... off about it. Not least of which are the wings on its back. Small, misshapen bat wings, one of which is clearly broken. It has buck teeth, and bright white eyes, visible only because of its incredibly dark skin.
The crowd is throwing rocks at the creature, taking care not to strike at its head. They don't intend to kill it, and likely just want to cause it pain for as long as possible. The creature has been given a simple helmet to ensure no lethal blows would be easily struck, and you can even see that there are salesmen in front. Selling stones that are too small to kill, but big enough to wound. The creature's legs have been smashed open already.

...This is barbaric.

>Step away.
This is none of your business.

>Stop this madness!
There is no excuse to torture this creature!

>Whister to Snikt to put the poor think out of its misery
An arrow. Let them think it was a miscommunication of sorts... Culture clash, perhaps.

>>5676062
Maybe ask what's going on before jumping to action. Paracelsus might know.

>>5676080
Support. if it's what it looks like...
>Stop this madness!

>>5676080
>>5676084
Supporting.
Also, I think we just found our guide.
Feytouched boy to take us through the feywoods?

>>5676062
>>Stop this madness!
questions after we prevent them from killing the boy if it turns out they are justified then we step aside.

>>5676062
>Stop this madness!

To be fair, dragon or not I get where she's coming from.

>>5676062

>Stop this madness!
There is no excuse to torture this creature!

We have found our guide. Let's help them.

>>5676080
Support

>>5676247
>>5676279
>>5676492
For all we know, there is a chance the creature only looms like a boy, and it indeed deserves to be stoned. It wont die immediately, but we should assess why it's being stoned in the first place.

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>>5676951
yeah that's why I want Para's input first. but even if it is a little shit we can wait for it to be let out of the stocks, heal it up, and have it take us through the feylands. no need to cause a scene.

>>5676080
>>5676084
Supporting these.

>>5676062
>Ask Paracelsus before doing anything hasty.
Come on, mindlessly rushing to save a stranger could just end up killing us all. Or at least by hunted.

"Paracelsus... What in the hell is happening?" You ask, your hand subconsciously having moved to the grip of your sword. Paracelsus looks at the affair, and sighs.
"A changeling. It's a sort of fey creature, one of the cruelest creatures ever made. They come about when a fae sneaks into a victim's house and steals away a child, often a baby, and replaces it with the changeling. They grow up, usually a bit out of step, though some really are just bad eggs. But in the end, when the creature finds love... Then, things change. Their true nature is revealed, and they will change to reflect their heritage. Turning into whatever brand of fae you can come across... Wulver, bloodcaps, trolls, could be anything. From the looks of it, the boy has its origins amongst the fauns, or satyr..."

Changelings... You could understand people turning vengeful to such a crime, but...
"Is it right to punish the changeling?" You ask, and Paracelsus sighs.
"That's the cruelty of it. The changeling did not know that it was a changeling until it transformed. It is... Not uncommon for them to elope with their lover, either. It only comes about when love is found, after all. It's a trick as well, luring good boys and gurls into the woods, never to be seen again. But the changeling... To them, it appears as though one day, they just began to turn into monsters. Through no fault of their own, they will be hunted."

Paracelsus looks at the stoning dispassionately, though she looks away quickly.
"We are no fae anybody has heard of, but perhaps some would see us as changelings. Doesn't matter, however. As for this mess..."

Paracelsus does sound disgusted, now, while before she was more neutral.
"They'll torture him to death on that square. As an example to all fae. They say accepting a changeling is opening the door to many more stolen children. It's... Distasteful, but for once, the cruelty of this country has purpose."

Pink, however, questions it.
"Why torture him? Wouldn't killing them in full view be enough?"
Chad shakes his head.
"Changelings are already sacrificial lambs. The torture is not supposed to show what will happen to the changeling, it's to show what the people here are capable of. It's a show of arms, not a call to compassion."

Chad's been listening to your tales of the crusades, it seems. Your side would torture demons and raise them high on a standard for the very same purpose. Trophies and a way to intimidate.
Still...

The changeling boy doesn't even struggle anymore. Instead it loudly weeps, calling out for a name and staring at one member in the crowd. A girl that must be the same age...
She's just silently throwing rocks.

This is...

>Barbaric. Kill the boy and be done with it instead of this farce!

>None of your business.
This is far too crazy of a situation for you to judge. Look away.

>Unacceptable. You must free the poor wretch.
Give it a chance.

>Necessary.
As distasteful as it is, joining in might win you some favor with the townspeople

>>5679403
>Barbaric. Kill the boy and be done with it instead of this farce!
Hits too close to home. What are we, and William, if not changelings? Why was Anna mutilated, if not for the same reason: turning into a monster against her own will? Give the lad a chance.

>>5679403
>>Barbaric. Kill the boy and be done with it instead of this farce!

>>5679403
>Unacceptable. You must free the poor wretch.
Get everyone's opinions on this. Though you are Sarah are more or less the leaders now, it'd be best to get an idea from everyone and garner additional insight. I mean, if they boy didn't know, how can it be his own fault but by his cowardly sire? The Fae can die, but this changeling has done no wrong.

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>>5679407
>Give the lad a chance.
>picking the option to kill the boy
anon, I....are you *SURE* you know what you're picking?

>>5679403
Hey Spinejuice, loot bitch back here again wondering if we can still make money selling some dragon fire to blacksmiths.

>>5679407
Changing to
>Unacceptable. You must free the poor wretch.

>>5680181
You're right -- I was on mobile and didn't read closely enough. Good catch! Thank you.

>>5679403
QM, please note the above vote-change.

>>5679403
>None of your business.
It's better to just walk away. We have our family to take care of. Going against the locals would just risk their lives.

>>5679403
>Barbaric. Kill the boy and be done with it instead of this farce!
"It takes you sods this long to kill even a single fey? Pathetic! No wonder they keep giving you trouble." Or something like that. I bet the villagers would be far less willing to mess with somebody who acts like a blood knight on an anti-fey crusade.

>>5679403
>Perform some trickery.
Perhaps we can let them send their message without perverting justice so. Can we present to be outraged with the changing and very publically feed the wretched thing to our pet (Chester) as a message and warning to the fey?
We then abscond with the poor lad once we've stormed off in a huff and Chester coughs him up.

>>5679403

>>5680528
...that's clever. I like that.

>>5680528
Sneaky! Smart! Let's do this, if it'a viable.

>>5679403
Sorry, QM, changing my vote (>>5679407,
>>5680186) again to this smarty-pants' plan.

>>5680528
Good shit. Let's do this. Feed him to the mimic!

"I'm saving that boy. He didn't ask for this." You say, but Paracelsus stops you.
"Wait... This is not going to get us in good with the locals. Are you certain that this is a risk you can take?"
You look at the situation... and think. Then, however, you think of something. Something rather devious, if you say so yourself.
"Say, Paracelsus... how recognized are mimics here? Because I think Chester could be of use to us, here."

Paracelsus seems confused for a moment.. .but then, you see it. That firing of the neurons...
"Ah... Ahhhh.... I see. Yes, I suppose that might work, actually. If you so wish, I could make a show of it. I'm not the best public speaker, but I can call out to the supposed Fey that are hanging around. It'll do."
You smile at your darling, and nod.
"Let's do it. I'll part the crowd, I'm big and I'm armed, that seems to have worked so far."
"Use the kobolts, as well. A small army, even in both senses of the word, still commands some level of respect."

You're surprised that Paracelsus is so excited about this, really. Perhaps she's just a fan of trickery in this sort of way. Anyway...
Parting the sea of people is easy, though people are mostly confused. Many mothers suddenly clutch their children close, as if they weren't publically stoning a creature just a moment ago. You keep walking, and hop on top of the podium, your wings subconsciously flapping and giving you that bit of extra list.
You had forgotten they got big enough to do that, strangely. You just don't jump that much, you suppose. Paracelsus just climbs up, and quickly begins to talk, while you take out your claymore. With one tap to confirm your aim, you smash open the lock, and rip the boy out of the stocks, causing him to yell in fear and babble something in his native tongue. You don't understand a word of it, but you suppose that Paracelsus is doing a good job. You bark for William to bring out Chester, and you're glad to see that Chester is rather enjoying the attention.
"Open up, Chester, okay?" You say, trying to sound aggressive, but Chester seems to understand you well enough not to take it personally. Grabbing the boy by the scruff of his neck, you pull him up, and toss him inside Chester, his scream falling away as he is dumped into the drool-covered prison below."
"Boss, just so you know, there's air in there, but not that much. It's like getting waterboarded after a while. Better hurry, alright?"

You look behind you, and see that the crowd is, fortunately, cheering on your brutal execution of the creature, and Paracelsus' voice carries far.
Raising a fist, you take Chester in your hands, keeping him shut rather forcefully. Chester begins to purr, in response, which is good. Seems he likes being squished?
After that bit of theatrics, you decide to head back outside the city, and Paracelsus adds in that she told the crowd you'll be feeding the chest Lemongrass to deal with the foul taste. Some people laughed, many cheered, seems that worked out great.

And then, just a few minutes later, you find a nice bit of vegetation, and open up Chester again, pulling the boy out of there by the ankles. He's soaking wet, covered in drool, and trembling like a leaf. He's clearly injured, but above all... utterly terrified.
You've got some level of privacy here...
What do you do with the boy? Paracelsus will translate for you.

>Tell him that he's free to go.
His life has been saved, but this is all you can do for him.

>Tell him that he's just been recruited.
He'll appreciate that over death... you hope.

>Ask him some questions.
He's still a local, even if he's recently found out he's not nearly as local as he thought.

>Something else.

>>5682570
>Tell him that he's just been recruited.
We could use a guide, and he sort of owes us one. Let'a not be emans about it, and we can reimburse him, but we really must insist.

>>5682570
>Tell him that he's just been recruited.
Sorry, not sorry, but we need a guide who isn't a horrible person. You're the best we have. The employment is temporary with possible permanence if you like it.

>>5682570
>Tell him that he's just been recruited.
Honestly? This is for the best, since he wont survive in the wild, and he'd just get stoned to death again. He'll need a disguise though. I'm surprised we haven't taught the kobolts the local language. They fast learners.

>>5682570
>>Tell him that he's just been recruited.

I mean we can't really let him go at this point, he'd just end up dead later on

>>5682570
>He'll appreciate that over death... you hope.
Press-Ganged might be the more accurate term

>>5682570
>Tell him that he's just been recruited.
We saved his life so he'll join the klan for now at least. And a local guide never goes amiss.

"The boy's just been recruited. Paracelsus, could you tell him that?"
Your lover raises an eyebrow, and opens up a few issues:
"Why would you do that? If you think he'll be a guide, he'll only be able to guide us around the city. He was a normal boy up until quite recently... though, I suppose his nature as a Changeling will grant him access to the fey side of things. For better or for worse. All the same, he cannot guide us. Not even in the city, considering his appearance will have him killed on sight."
You nod, quite aware of those issues. This isn't about how useful the boy is, anyhow.
"He'll die on his own, Paracelsus. He can't survive out in the wilds, and the city wants him dead. I think bringing him along is the best thing we can do for him... Hell, perhaps he can end up teaching the kobolts how to speak the language, they pick up on it pretty quick, don't they?"

You look over to the kobolts, and Collar is already rattling off several words she knows, and Pink even says a sentence. According to her, it means "I like you, dragon." She uses the Rosarian term for "Dragon", however, though you think that the mercenaries that were going to enslave your kobolts also used that as a loanword.
Paracelsus just sighs.... and smiles.
"This is why I love you, you know that? You eternal god-damned paragon."
She reaches up and kisses you on the cheek, before turning to the boy and kneeling down. Her tone is about as gentle as she can manage it. It seems to work in calming the boy down, after a few repeats of what she was saying... to the point that the boy went from terrified to crying.
It's... it's an ugly, ugly cry. Bawling, practically screaming. You've seen it before during the crusades, it's people that just... reached their limit. Some people get it after their first battle.
You had it after three.
You keep calm, and sit down next to the boy. You place a hand on his shoulder, and little more, as he keeps crying. The others try to get close, but you raise your hand.
"He needs space, and somebody to ground him... In a moment, you can join in, right now, just let him-"
You are interrupted when he starts ineffectually beating his balled fists against your chest, yelling nonsense. A fighter, then?

He can't hurt you, at all.
You let him work out his emotions, and when he tires himself out... you gesture for the others to approach, and ask Paracelsus to keep talking.
"Explain it to him, he should be able to listen. And... get me his name, if you would?"

It took about a while, but the kobolt group hug can calm anybody. Eventually, he starts explaining, past his sobbing.
"His name is Douglas. Douglass Sull. He says he started changing a month ago... His sister did her best to help hide the changes, but he couldn't stop himself from going to his girlfriend, who promised him that no matter what happened, she'd love him."
You nod... Grievously.
God. Poor lad.
"Does he wish to come with us?" You ask.
"He... doesn't have any other options. The issue is, however, he obviously can't hide very well. His teeth, white eyes, and coal black skin would make it hard to hide. Even a cloak might not be enough, considering the wings. One of the wings is also broken, and you all had to ensure you didn't touch it. Paracelsus thinks she can set it, but putting a cloak over it isn't going to be a good idea. She also proposes to cut them off... but she knows from experience that Changelings that deny their changes in that way... tend to get even more obvious.

...hm.

>You don't need to head into the city for long. The boy and the kobolts can stay on the outskirts, while you head into town to resupply and find a map or guide...

>You'll hide him as you head in. A cloak will make it not too obvious... and he's amongst strange company to begin with.

>You'll bring him to his home. His sister will hide him a moment longer... and the family deserves to know that he will be in your care.

>Something else.


aaa i wrote this update like THREE TIMES i kept forgetting to send it fuck

>>5686753
>>You don't need to head into the city for long. The boy and the kobolts can stay on the outskirts, while you head into town to resupply and find a map or guide.
>Get directions from him and inform his family, maybe bring his sister to see him if they aren't likely to turn him in

>>5686753
>You don't need to head into the city for long. The boy and the kobolts can stay on the outskirts, while you head into town to resupply and find a map or guide...
I'd argue against telling Douglas's family about him. It'll be safer to let everybody, his close ones included, believe that he's dead.

>Something else.
Once we have a moment, I'd like to have a little heart to heart with the boy, to let him know that we understand his situation. Tell him all about our struggles with the curse. That Reynauld used to be human. Paracelcus used to be human. William, human. Snikt, kobolt. Anna, well... she's always been a goblin, except for when she was a giant wolf, but she's going to turn into something else, once we find somebody capable of utilizing the curse. And if he wants, we can see if it'll work on a fae, too.

>>5686871
Supporting.

>>5686753

>>5686753
Always use an outside word processor and save regularly. Learned that the hard way.

>>5686871
Supporting

>>5686753
>>You'll hide him as you head in. A cloak will make it not too obvious... and he's amongst strange company to begin with.

>>5686753
>You don't need to head into the city for long. The boy and the kobolts can stay on the outskirts, while you head into town to resupply and find a map or guide.
>Get a rough estimate of the boys clothes and go out to buy him some hand me down sets, a cloak his size, a mask that might fit him, gloves, long socks, scarfs and/or turtle necks, and a baklavas to hide his head. Get him fully covered if he ever needs to enter a city.
>Ask the boy if he wants anything before we leave the city.
>Haggle for another horse as stronk as Tom-8-ooooo's. He's a strong boy, but the cart is gonna just get heavier from here on out.
>buy some more books for our book eater kobolt (accompanied with a bottle of wine for her to wash it down, I vaguely recall her liking to eat books with wine and pasta)

>>5686871
supporting

looks like we got ourselves another squire! That, or Paracelsus get an apprentice. Perhaps its her turn to mentor someone?

>>5687521
>That, or Paracelsus get an apprentice. Perhaps its her turn to mentor someone?
Probably going to go that way just based on the language barrier

>>5687521
I'm >>5686905, and I very much see the wisdom of several suggestions in >>5687521. Let's prioritize a disguise for our changeling friend and a book for Esme (I think the book eater) to consume so she can learn the local language faster.

>>5687753
Getting Sarah a little buddy is a clever idea, too.

>>5689507
Esme is the book writer, Collar is the book eater. I don't think you want to confuse those two. But yeah, we should probably pick up a dictionary for her to snack on. With any luck, she'll pick up a word or two.

>>5689662
Thanks for the kobolt correction (korrection?), anon.

"Right... I'll be heading into town alone, well, me and Paracelsus is what I mean. Friends? You can look after the boy for a while, yes? Collar, I'll get you a dictionary of this place."
Collar giggles, wagging her tail around excitedly as she adjusts her collar a bit.
"Thank you, dragon! I love you!"

You smile, and pat the adorable lizard on the head, causing Teensy to quickly yell that she loves you too!
Before long, the headpat cascade has begun, and you just talk to Sarah while you pat everyone on the head.

"So, Paracelsus... Any idea what to do with the kid? I'd consider taking him on as a squire... But two is the limit, really. Any more and it's a militia. Not to mention the language barrier."
Paracelsus looks at you and raises an eyebrow.
"If you're not taking him on, I suppose he'll just be a hanger-on... Though, i don't know what the boy will do, honestly. Joining a band of exotic strangers may not be what he'd like."
Fortunately, you have an idea.
"Say... Why not take the boy on as your apprentice?"
Paracelsus... Just looks confused. And maybe a little disgusted.
"An apprentice, I..."
She clears her throat for a moment.
"I'll... Have to see if he's got enough wits for it. But it might not be a bad plan, really. Power to the people, as they say."

She needs some more time to think,though, and... You give the boy a good reason to follow you.
You need Paracelsus to translate, but the boy finds time to stop despairing when you explain how you were transformed... And Paracelsus and William. Even Teensy and Anna had a stint with lycanthropy.
Though the shining example of your goal, and the proof it is possible, is of course Snikt. Essentially...
You might cure the boy of his accursed birthright.
He... Needed some time to absorb the information, but... It made him agree to travel with you officially.

More importantly, it gave him hope.

Anyhow... You head into town after that, hoping to get a book (maybe a few) and a guide. Failing that, you'll find a map somewhere, surely.

You consider finding Douglas' family, but tragically... It's just not worth the risk. So, instead, you'll focus on shopping. For items or for skilled help. There's some options.

>Local tough guy bar:
Low skilled but cheap help. More importantly, they won't ask questions

>Market
Fair prices. You get what you pay for, basically, but there's always scammers

>Castle Courtyard:
Fun and games, everybody there should be rich and/or skilled but you're going to spend a lot of money if you're not careful... And maybe even if you are!

>>5692573
>Local tough guy bar

>>5692573
>>Local tough guy bar
Best to keep a low profile after our little stunt.

>>5692573
>Local tough guy bar:

Mostly just need someone to point us in the right direction and warn for the usual banditry spots.

>>5692573
Should probably archive, by the by