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Verac was a peaceful village that barely a lord knew of. It had the ever so prized grapes of Aquitaine, but these grapes were of a modest kind compared to its several dozen sister villages across the landscape. It would occasionally have a market that would have roughly five stalls in total. For the most part though people simply bartered amongst themselves for that was easier than attending a stall for several hours.

The Duke of Aquitaine has never heard of this place. The Lord ever so lavished with either wine or tournaments that he had never ventured this deep into his territory. The Count likewise did not care for what the Peasants were doing. He needed to prepare himself for the next joust lest failure rob him of future titles and earnings that were rightfully his.

Maybe, oh maybe, the Baron would have appeared. Such a chancer never arrived, the people only saw the Baron of their locality once every five or so years. Such was because every time the Knight walked into the village he could smell the tainted blood that had twisted around like a malformed tree. He would not dare walk into these lands lest his future sons become as ruinous as the peasants who lived in Verac.

The peasants did not mind this arrangement in the end. They were a community that were held together by blood. A clan if you will, united by the first Father Verac who had discovered this place. It was roughly three hundred years ago since he discovered that amongst the forest the famed grapes of Aquitaine could be grown.

His family, five sons and three daughters, worked to clear out the forest just enough that they could start the cultivation. Everyone who lived within the village could tie their lineage back to two of these peoples. It was, in their opinion, something to hold your head high with. To be proud that this land was theirs and that no one was going to take it away from them. That they were, in some small way, lords of their own livelihoods.

Amongst them was a single man. Where his sisters and brothers had jawlines that were just a little too much to the right or left, this peasant was not only centered but hardened around the bones. His hair was a somewhat dirty blond that was enough spice for most of his cousins to look at him with longing eyes.

Unlike a great many of his siblings the man was working well and hard. Where his brothers were already fighting to keep their backs from breaking he was holding in just a little bit longer than them. He did not think his family were stupid or lazy, for this was simply the way of things. That, and just last week his brother did indeed shatter his back while trying to lift a barrel of grapes when the family told him not to.

Wiping the sweat from his brow the Peasant looked towards the Horizon. Here he stood upon a hill that hosted a forest looking down upon a valley and the village proper. As the sun danced above he could not help but feel awed by it.

>What is his name?

>>5710675

Blargus Nefarious

>>5710675
I should point out, make it simple to write. I will be writing the damn name a lot.

>>5710675
Lucian Durand

Durand being the french surname for enduring. Lucian because I like the name. And a reference to previous work, if you care to see it that way.

>>5710684
bloody, forgot.
>Lucian Durand

>>5710675
Alaric

>>5710675
>Emeric
It's almost harvesting season

>>5710675

>>Lucian Durand

>>5710675
>Lucian Durand

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>>5710673
I'll be honest, I was hoping for this one.
>>5710675
>Lucian Durand

Lucian the Durand (Durand will come later)
>>5710685
>>5710763
>>5710778
>>5710812

Going to post quickly since I was planning on back to back short posts. Also I liked the name Lucian Durand.

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Lucian felt the weight of his tool as he looked upon the Horizon. Hues of red and orange danced across his view. The clouds themselves, once white, were dyed the same colors as if a painter had made brush strokes across the sky. This beauty was struck against the green forest that was below the sky. Such strength was within the forest that it withstood the changing of colors that were present.

He could just catch Mannslieb within the sky. It was like a titan creeping into the setting sky. It was demanding against the sun that it should be night instead of day. That this beauty was temporary against the setting night that was soon to come.

Lucian felt a small shiver going down his spine at the thought of it.

“Brother, you gettin’ cold?” Called out a feminine voice that caught the Peasant off guard.

Quickly Lucian turned on his heel. Suddenly the slickness of the grass underneath his feet made itself known. He had to tense his muscles and strike his tool into the ground to right himself. He cursed himself for putting his tool into the ground but noticed that it was a relative standing in front of him.

Odgu was standing there with a half tooth smile, “Be careful, you migh’ fall over.”

“I’ll try in the future.” The brother told his sister as he looked back towards Mannslieb.

“If you keep on lookin’ over there you are gonna get a cold. Night’s comin’.” Odgu placed a little bit of pressure on her brother so that he would finally get moving.

“Where’s Morrslieb?” Lucian could not help but ask.

“Brother.”

Firm words quickly yanked the attention that Lucian had upon the skies above. A single word that made its intentions known. Shut up and move. There was a very heavy emphasis on that shut up part.

Such was to be expected, as Morrslieb was waxing.

Lucian picked up his tool and began following his sister. She had a slight limp in her right foot, but that was nothing compared to the hunched back that made up her right shoulder.

>>What tool is Lucian carrying?
>Pitchfork
>Axe
>Long Knife
>Scythe

>>5710860
>Long Knife

versatile

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>>5710860
>Scythe
KNIGHT OF MORR

>>5710860
>Axe

>>5710860
>Long Knife

>>5710860
>>Pitchfork

>>5710860
>Long Knife

>>5710860
>Axe

>>5710860
axe, good for work

>>5710860

>Axe

Good weapon for a peasant

>>5710860
>Fork and Spoon
The hungry knight.

>>5710860
>Scythe
Pure meme option but I don't care

>>5710860
>Axe

>>5710860
MEMES

>Scythe

>>5710860
>>Scythe

>>5710860
>A sack of taters.

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We are going to fighting with one of these polearms

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And here's another image from wikipedia.

>>5710860
>Scythe
It's almost harvesting season

Long Knife
>>5710861
>>5710918
>>5711034

A Scythe
>>5710863
>>5711090
>>5711101
>>5711110
>>5711235

Axe
>>5710910
>>5711043
>>5711064
>>5711092

Pitchfork
>>5710942

Fork and Spoon
>>5711089

Scythe wins, barely.

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The two of them walked into the woods that they both called home. The sounds of birds ebbing away as they realized the terror that was about to come upon them. The trees became somewhat depressed and faint.

Going through the area there was a plethora of animal pens and even grounds where the goats roamed the forest floor. None of these beasts showed themselves to Lucian or his Sister as they walked through. While each of these creatures might have looked forward to a treat, let it be an apple or pair of grapes, they did not dare walk within the open once night came upon them.

It was moments like this that Lucian felt the weight of the scythe within his hand. It was not heavy but reassuring to be within the grip of the young man. He was a faithful follower of the Lady, fulfilling his duty as the strongest man within the Household. Upon his shoulders his family and village stood firmly to live. This was accomplished through the scythe, a symbol of Morr.

“You’re not gonna brin’ that scythe into the house!” Odgu snapped her brother out of a daze with a spat of words, “You day dreamin’?”

“I was thinking to myself.” Admitted Lucian, “Give me a moment to put it in the barn.”

“Good.” Odgu’s eyes shifted rather uncomfortably before walking into the building. It was only Lucian after all who would brazenly carry a Scythe almost everywhere he went without care or worry. When his brothers were done working the patches, they would try their damndest to rid themselves of such a graceful tool.

He was just odd. Ever since Lucian knew who he was, he accepted that fact.

Walking to the shed he opened the slightly rotten door and settled his tool among the plethora of hatchets and pitchforks that were in there. Each of them a crude make from the nearby blacksmith because his family did not want to buy anything more than needed.

He looked up towards the sky again, through the thin canopy of trees. While Mannslieb was high in the sky Morrslieb did not show itself at all. Its devilish green hue was so absent that one every wondered if it was even up there.

They were blessed, if just for one more night.

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The sun rose above the mountainous horizon as the siren of life. The sounds of birds and sane animals triumphantly sliced through the air. Gone was the fears that night brought to the living world, now they could enjoy another day of labor and toil.

The Village of Verac was quite small even by Lucian’s own standards. There were roughly ten houses within the street, each holding about ten people in each of them. Every morning was a welcoming of painful wimpers from every member of his immediate family, having the pile upon one another for both safety and warmth. It did not bother Lucian but he was just different.

As early as he could get it Lucian had acquired the scythe from the shed. A familiar weight welcomed by his arms. He had spent so many years of his life with this Scythe. So long that he could not really imagine anyone else wielding it but him.

“Oi, Cousin!” A shout came from the doorway of a nearby house. He had a hope that it was not him who was called out by the voice, “Lucian! I’m talkin’ to you!”

“What do you need Charles?” The Peasant turned towards his cousin with a grimace on his face. He could have ignored the man, but his Cousin would simply pester him throughout the entire day if he did that. It was best to get it all over with.

“You know, Lucian, I’ve been talkin’ to some of the Fathers.” The wicked grin of Charles was only exemplified by the extended chin and rotten ears, “‘Ere you been workin’ day an’ night like some ox on the fields. I was wonderin’ how you could do that.”

“I’m just a little different, thats all.” Lucian told his cousin.

“Bein’ a little different does not sound bad, but dats the start.” The man began creeping towards the scythe wielding peasant with delight, “Dey start a little tougher, den their skin begins to grow a little more hair. Before you know it, their feet have become hooves.”

Lucian could not hide the tinge of sheer astonishment at such an accusation. So stunned was he that he could not stop his cousin.

“So what do ya say, cousin? You just a little different?”

>Don’t play these games.
>You’ll curse us if you keep speaking.
>Stay Silent
>Push him away

>>5711366
>You'll curse us if you keep this up

I think that's accusing us of being chaotic mutant. So. . don't do that.

>>5711366
>You’ll curse us if you keep speaking.
>You make these kind of jokes, and next thing we know an actual one shows up in the village!

>>5711366
>You’ll curse us if you keep speaking
>by The Lady, hind your tongue

>>5711366

>You’ll curse us if you keep speaking.

“You’ve said many idiot things over the years, cousin, but this might be your dumbest day yet.”

>>5711423
Bugger, I meant Mind. Also is anyone else excited to see a Scythe Knight?

>>5711366
>You’ll curse us if you keep speaking

>>5711366
>You’ll curse us if you keep speaking

>>5711366
>You’ll curse us if you keep speaking

>>5711366
>>You’ll curse us if you keep speaking.
>“You’ve said many idiot things over the years, cousin, but this might be your dumbest day yet.”

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“By the Lady, mind your tongue!” Lucian could not help but feel his blood run cold as those words were said to him, “You’ve said many idiot things over the years, cousin, but this is the dumbest day you’ve ever had!”

“Dumbest?” Charles slowly leaned into Lucian with a smirk, “You not gonna deny it?”

“Neither of us are mutants, blessed we are by the Lady!” Lucian said as he tried to recover the situation, “If you keep talking like that they might just come.”

“With you at their head!” Jeered Charles as he looked to be launching himself upon the prey that he so meticulously prepared.

Before the Cousin could say anything more though there was a shout, “Charles, what are you doin’!?”

It was like an explosion from one of the Imperial Caravans had gone off. Both of them turned to see what was a growing posy of woman all poised for the strike. Lucian noticed his Sister, Odgu, was at the front of what were his first and second cousins covering her at the back. Each of them was weilding something that did not seem too deadly, but Lucian already knew an uncle who had his head bludgeoned open with one of those large serving spoons.

“You going to defend him? Its obvious that he is a mu-” He did not get to finish the words as a hand reached down and grabbed him by the shoulder. It was a firm hand as well, strong enough that it might just shatter the should it was resting on.

“Problem?” One of the Fathers, Simon, gripped tightened upon the shoulder of his nephew, “Git.”

Charles did not need any more prompting and escaped the hand of his uncle with speeds that would make squills embarrassed. Lucian noticed then that the area seemed a lot more void of people than it was a moment ago. Where once the place was filled with what the Peasant slowly realized to be his cousins and even a few brothers, there was now no one.

“Good.” Simon said as he nodded to Lucian.

The Peasant took in a breath as he was quickly swarmed in the next moment by quite a few relatives. Questions came pouring one after another asking if he was feeling alright and if he was needing some help.

He kinda enjoyed it, but Odgu quickly got them all away as she finally got to him.

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“Sorry abou’ that, I didn’ think he would do it.” Odgu told her brother with a firmness that easily showed her place among the cousins.

“Charles is full of surprises.” Answered Lucian as he looked around.

Odgu grew a smile as she heard his words, “Well, I talked to the Elders. They needin someone to go get supplies, do you want to go together?”

“Are you sure? I could be of good help here in the village.” Lucian countered feeling a little put on the spot.

“No worryin.” She answered, “I already asked the Fathers. They do not need you in the fields today.”

>Head to the City
>Stay in the Fields

>>5712240
>Head to the City
ADVENTURE!

>>5712240
>Head to the City
Let's make contact with the Shrouded brotherhood

>>5712240

>Head to the City

There's more to the world than our village, we should take this opportunity to see it!

>>5712240
>>Head to the City
We must drive the plot forward!! And it's obvious that we will return after three days of debauchery only to discover our people gone... and so the quest to find our people begins! They might be in arroyo...

>>5712240
>>Stay in the Fields
This is usually a major death flag

>>5712240
>Head to the City
Good to have you back QM!

>>5712240
>>Head to the City

>>5712240
>Head to the City

>>5712240
>>Head to the City

>>5712240
>Stay in the Fields

>>5712240

>Head to the City

>>5712240
>Head to the City

>>5712240
>Head to the city

Death flags abound.

>>5712240
>Stay in the Fields

>>5712240
>>Stay in the Fields

>>5712240

>Head to the City.

A new story but with the usual quality, welcome back boss.

>>5712300

Nano, good to see you again!

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“Well, alright.” Lucian relented as he shined a smile, “Its been a few weeks since I have been to town anyways. It would be nice to see everyone again.”

“Great! Lets get the donkey ready!” Cheered Odgu as she clasped the hands on Lucian’s and then quickly ran off.

It did not take very long for the pair of them to get the animal and stuff together. The Donkey was an old ass of thirty five years old. He was an old beast but ever since he was bought from the village of Malet he had been faithful and strong.

The wagon that Lucian rolled out to hook up to the donkey was a single axle wagon. The construction of which was far older than even himself. Most of the repairs to the wheels and axle were done so many times over the years that it was hardly the same wagon it had once been. Even with that considered it was far more capable of long distances than the wheelbarrows that were scattered across the village.

Once latched to the donkey the berries were loaded on the back in about ten bushels. Already these fruits were starting to bleed in the wooden container that they were picked into for storage. If there was one thing that the family of Verac was proud of, it was the berries that came out of their fields.

With the goods loaded they were off.

The trip across the Brienne Valley and Plains was a pleasant one. Walking through the forest the two siblings were welcome to streams falling from cliff faces and the dozen or so animals that were frolicking across from them. They had spoken at the start of their journey but soon they were simply silent. Each enjoying the beauty as the forest and cliffs slowly became the rolling plains that Aquitaine was known for.

Here and there vineyards and fields were as far as the eye could see. Each and every one of these were of excellent quality to the knowledge of Lucian. He could see children playing while the men and women worked out in the fields for their daily work.

He always loved going down these roads. He loved them and the dukedom that he was but a single member of.

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As they traveled down the roads of cobblestone they noticed someone in the distance. It was a single person who was upon the back of a horse. Upon instinct the two peasants and their donkey walked to the side of the road and stopped themselves for the rider to go by.

The beast that the man road had its muscles actuated and strength easily presented. Each step that the beast made was with purpose and not a subtle form of dullness within the creature's mind. It knew that it was powerful and a lord amongst peasants.

Upon its back was a man wearing blue and gold livery of Aquitaine. His head was held high as he knew there was no reason to look down upon the ground. Said head was in an ornate plate of steel with holes cut into it for both the eyes and mouth. Upon it was a trident symbolizing that he was indeed a lord of Aquitaine.

He rode forward with a white cloak billowing within the air. He did not seem to care about the peasants or the terrain that he was walking, only that he was traveling towards the destination of whatever tournament or quest that he was tasked with.

Lucian and Odgu bowed their heads upon his approach. The sound of the horse’s hooves striking the dirt as it reached them. They were to show him respect, but in some way Lucian also felt a tinge of fear towards the Knight. To be in front of someone with enough authority to cut them down was enough. However, the thing that Lucian had for the Knight was the admiration that all peasants of Bretonnia felt.

A Knight was the standing embodiment of the Lady’s charge. Each of them on a path to try and attain a sip from the Grail to become a Grail Knight just like Gilles le Brton. Many of the Knightly Houses have at one point hosted a Grail Knight. It is for this blood that they each inherited strength that placed them above the common peasant in a display of might and majesty.

When the Knight was at his closest the sound of the hooves stopped. A shiver of anticipation and fear crept into the heart of Lucian as he realized the warrior was just a few yards infront of him.

There was no sounds of a sword being drawn though. Instead the bark of a voice far more smooth than anything Lucian had heard before.

“Peasant boy, raise your head and face me.” The orders were clear.

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Lucian looked up towards the Knight whose face was still covered. It was not out of any distain the Peasant thought but that he did not see it just to show it to a mere peasant. The livery of blue and gold were striking well and the shield that was upon the man’s arm hosted a grail filled with grapes. A pendant adorned his chest and the sigil of the man’s house was carried by a griffin that was upon his helm.

Lucian remembered what he was told. Those who do not have to show their faces and whose heraldry tell you exactly who they were. Even a peasant like Lucian quickly realized that the man who he spoke to was a Knight of the Realm, a ranking Lord who must have had great powers vested.

And in that second Lucian’s eyes made contact with the Knight’s.

His heart and mind were ensnared in that moment by the man’s gaze. He was a Knight and this was the ruler, “What village are you of?”

“I… I am of Verac.” Answered Lucian as he felt his heart skip a few beats.

He could feel it there. The questioning of such a statement that the Knight could barely believe the words that were spoken. The ire remained upon him for a moment more.

“Begone.” He said simply before putting his back towards Lucian and his Sister.

The Peasants felt this breaths out for a moment and steadied them. Focusing them to a single point where calmness could be achieved. They were lucky in that, lucky in keeping their livelihoods and not found wanting by the Lord who controlled this region.

“Aquitaine is just a little further ahead.” Lucian said as he caught his breath, “Lets get them dropped off.”

>>Who is the buyer of the fruit?
>The Local Monastery
>Markets!
>Tavern

>>5713035
>The Local Monastery

>>5713035

>The Local Monastery

Let’s see what the monks are up to?

>Markets!

>>5713035
>The Local Monastery
I don't get what just happened with the knight

>>5713065

The knight almost killed us for actually taking to him? That was my take

>>5713035
>The Local Monastery
Give to the faith!
>>5713065
Knight wants to know where we're from theoretically because we look like someone he knows, after all in Bretonnia only Nobility can be Knights and also the peasantry are the worst stereotypes of their kind in nearly any setting, so I'm assuming we're a bastard or some kind of Orphan taken in by a peasant family

he realised we came from a village of disgusting Inbreeds

>>5713035
>Markets!
>>5713097
We may come from a village of inbreeds, but no way in hell are actually related to the people there considering our lack of deformations. But if we are, then we *really* lucked out on the genetic lottery!

>>5713104
Well who knows if the MC is a inbred all that noble knows is that the MC came from that village.

>>5713035
>The Local Monastery
I want to meet monks

>>5713112
Oh for sure, I'm just speculating.

>>5713112
>we're the one Inbred whose traits all actually worked out

>>5713133
Who knows, maybe we have webbed toes

https://youtu.be/80xuH8NJrbY

>>5713035
>>Markets

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>>5713133
lol

>>5713133
Even Charles II was extremely physically active and spent most of his time hunting, and managed to survive attacks of measles, chickenpox, rubella, AND smallpox in his childhood. Maybe there's something to the theory...

>>5713133
Tbh last civ we did sponsor an interplanetary noble enterprise who, traditionally in that setting, could be varying levels of inbred. But it worked because gene-tech-magic.
>>5713097
Very in line for peasants especially in Warhammer

>>5713200
Especially in bretonia. They're practically subhuman in bretonia. A skaven could probably hide in their midst

>>5713035
>>Tavern

>>5713216
I'm surprised there isn't a noble in the land who decided to breed his peasants like livestock given how they treat them as literal animals.
Like take half the women of this village and shove them 50 miles away in another village to let them breed.

>>5713035
>>Markets!

>>5713035
>Tavern

Local Monastery
>>5713050
>>5713051
>>5713065
>>5713076
>>5713113

Markets
>>5713153
>>5713741
>>5713053
>>5713104

Tavern
>>5713488
>>5713839

Monastery won if I counted it right.

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While the Dukedom holds its name with a symbol of pride, the town of Aquitaine was not as grandiose as the circumstances should have allowed. The town itself covered a few acres worth of land and was home to roughly a few thousand people.

The most prominent part of the town was not the town itself but the castle that it was a shanty to. Castle Aquitaine was a rather strong fortification that had a single tower that stretched out into the skies itself. It had so many windows that the structure was originally threatened to be fragile. It was a blessed structure though, for no matter how much ruin came to the lands of Aquitaine and attacked this very Castle the pillar stood tall and unbroken.

It was, as all things in Bretonnia, something to be held in pride. So much so that the Duke himself decreed that none shall dare touch it lest a whip be broken upon their back.

Upon seeing the tower Lucian and his sister did not stare or slow to take in the glory. Instead their feet sped up as they both knew what was to come. The tower that watched the entire province was only built to watch over the fortress that was now appearing towards their right.

It was an old fortress that was overrunned by woods and trees. Dead and decrepit from the times where monsters once occupied it. Lucian had heard several explanations on just why the place was so horrifying and why the Duke has not taken the time to tear such an evil place apart brick by brick.

Most of those explanations were that the place belonged to the forces of Chaos. That it was a once renowned fortress that had its Lord betray the entire realm for selfish desire and insanity. Even drunkers did not dare say anything more for the fear of Chaos was always at the edge of their minds and soul. All that Lucian learned in the end was that Louis the Righteous, then Duke of Aquitaine and King of Bretonnia, killed the monster in open combat.

Lucian dared not ponder or even look at the structure any longer than he already had. He was already tempting the powers that be for his thoughts on the matter.

As they came across the town of Aquitaine Lucian could not deny that the thoughts of such a fortress were still with him. Looking upon the town it seemed that the city did not forget what the monster had done to it. There were two parts to the city, the east which prospered and continued to grow while the west seemed all but dead.

It would be half an hour more before they made it to their destination Lucian knew. Their destination was on the east side, meaning their trip would take just that little bit longer.

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Odgu, who was leading them, took the route that took them to the completely other side of the town. The men-at-arms who were guarding the eastern gates opening the way for the pair of Peasants to march into the castletown that was Aquitaine.

Walking the streets of Aquitaine was both a grave and a grand experience. Lucian could never fully comprehend just how many people were walking about the place. At the same time, one should always look at their feet to make sure nothing unsavory was disturbed by their feet.

The streets were winding and nearly nonsensical as they traveled about them. Lucian knew his way only partly. If someone accidently led him or his sister down one of the many winding alleys he was sure neither of them were going to escape easily. Such was a warning even one of the Fathers gave him, the man saying that he was lost within the town for two days before escaping with barely a stomach or throat.

The one luxury that the two peasants had was that their path was always infront of them and stood high in the sky above them.

Eventually the streets began to be emptied out as shining white walls stood out above their heads. Just as the two of them approached the walls one of the men-at-arms who were standing guard departed from his post to approach.

“Who approached Castle Aquitaine?”

The two peasants quickly bowed their heads at the sudden demands. Lucian then spoke their piece, “We are Lucian and Odgu of Verac sir! We have come to deliver the week’s fruit to the Monastery.”

“Raise your heads so that I can see your faces.” Ordered the soldier whose voice was reinforced with the authority of both the Duke but all who lived within the fortress.

They did as asked and the man studied their faces for a moment. He focused extremely hard upon Odgu, with only a passing glance at Lucian. For what he was examining her for Lucian could only guess. All he knew was these guards always took such hard looks at his kinsmen and not himself. Some would be allowed in, others will not at what seemed to be the whim of the official.

“Go in.” He declared.

“Thank you.” Lucian said as he grabbed the reigns of the donkey and began walking onto the castle grounds.

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The Castle was bigger than the town which was built in front of its gates. Massive wide open fields of grass were a common feature for place as well as men riding their horses through such perfect grounds. There were a few horsemen on the grounds but these were Yeoman and some men-at-arms. None of them carried the rank of even a Knight Errant.

Though there was not a Nobleman in sight neither Lucian nor Odgu left the shadows of the walls. This was not their place and both of them knew that. Their destination was already upon their names as they wanted to be in and out of their sanctified grounds of war as soon as possible.

Luckily for them it was not long. Near the rear of the fortress was one of the few places that were further fortified above the castle. Large stone fences surrounded what would have been an open garden. At one place within the walls was a grand temple where a pair of gates were held wide open.

The two peasants slowly made their way to the Temple of Morr, prostrating themselves at the portal as one of the priests came out to greet them.

“Hello child, the desire for foodstuff has been quite prevalent.” The Priest said as he walked over to examine the goods that were brought.

Lucian reached over and moved the scythe that was lying on top of the berries with a solemn smile, “We work to serve the Lady and all who work with her.”

“Know that your efforts do not go unnoticed. A Damsel has tasted your family’s goods recently during our latest meeting together.”

Lucian could not speak but held himself in awe as he heard such a comment. It was Odgu who said, “Really?”

“Aye, she even expressed enjoyment of them.” He answered with a kind grin.

Lucian felt a tear run down his face upon hearing those words. Such a comment was taken as a golden word for any peasant who would hear it. As he did so however someone else walked up to them.

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The man was wearing the black robes custom of a Priest of Morr. While his head was covered by the cloth Lucian quickly noticed a few of the regalia that were upon the man’s chest and waist. They were skulls with leaves furrowed behind them.

An Imperial. Not only an imperial, but one who was allowed into a fortress of Bretonnia.

“Ah, you are leaving brother.” The Priest of Morr who Lucian was talking to placed his hand flat upon his nose as the other fellow passed by, “May Morr guide you.”

The other did not respond and instead he stared at Lucian. Without prompting the Imperial started to walk his way towards the pair of Peasants without addressing his fellow in the slightest.

His attention was squarely upon Lucian and there was no question about it. This was a different kind of study than that used by the Knight of the Realm. This Priest was trying to make some kind of sense of what Lucian was, or at least that was the feeling he got. Not the accusatory stare that was from the Nobleman.

“Have we met before?” The man said bluntly.

“I… I don’t think we have.” Lucian answered with a creeping sense of discomfort rocking his body.

“I see.” And further unlike the Knight of the Realm his eyes became lit, “From which direction do you come from? Where is your village?”

“V-Verac, to the west.” Lucian felt like taking a step back but his feet were rooted to the ground as he stammered out an answer.

“So the Forest of Chalons…” The Priest said as he looked to the side to see the scythe that was brought with everything else, “Morr has guided me well.”

Without a word the Imperial made his way out much to the confusion of all present. While nothing too odd happened, Lucian could not help but feel his very soul shaken by it.

>Head straight home
>Visit a Friend or two
>Provide some volunteer labor to the temple

>>5714162
>Provide some volunteer labor to the temple
Beginning to think that the theory of us being the children of some knight of Morr is true

>>5714162

>Provide some volunteer labor to the temple.

Peasants who work hard are hard to replace.

>>5714162

>Provide some volunteer labor to the temple

Why not?

>>5714162
>>Provide some volunteer labor to the temple
The more useful we are the more long lived we will

>>5714162
>Provide some volunteer labor to the temple

Maybe we will see this Morr priest again when we return at home

>>5714162
>Visit a Friend or two

>>5714162
>>Provide some volunteer labor to the temple

>>5714162
>Provide some volunteer labor to the temple

>>5714162
>Provide some volunteer labor to the temple
For six days thou shalt do all thou art able, and the seventh the same but pound out the cable

>>5714162
>Provide some volunteer labor to the temple

>>5714162
>>Head straight home

>Provide some volunteer labor to the temple

>>5714162
>>Visit a Friend or two

>>5714162
>Visit a Friend or two

>>5714162
>Visit a friend

>>5714162
>Provide some volunteer labor to the temple

>>5714162
>>Provide some volunteer labor to the temple

>>5714162
>Provide some volunteer labor to the temple

>>5714162
>>Provide some volunteer labor to the temple

>>5714162
>Visit a Friend or two
Nice to see you back qm

>>5714162
>>Visit a Friend or two

>>5714162
>>Visit a Friend or two

>>5714162
>Visit a Friend or two

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Labor for the Temple
>>5714164
>>5714172
>>5714182
>>5714184
>>5714196
>>5714212
>>5714213
>>5714221
>>5714340
>>5714585
>>5714589
>>5714632
>>5714649
>>5714482

A Friend or Two
>>5714210
>>5714514
>>5714571
>>5714583
>>5714686
>>5714825
>>5714892

Straight Home
>>5714452

That is a lot of votes.

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“Who was he?” Lucian spoke aloud his question without much thought placed in it.

“Wendel Wolfmar.” The Priest of more responded as he shook his head, “He is a member to the Order of the Shroud, a wanderer going from battlefields to ruins in search of giving the people their divine protection after death. Do not mind him, for he is guided by the Dreams of Morr.”

“I see…” Lucian could not help but feel his confusion dampen but he shook his head at the matter, “Once we get the fruit inside does the temple need help with anything?”

“We could use a hand cutting the grass within the Garden.” the priest said as he began walking into the building, “Odgu, we could use some help repairing the clothing of the saved.”

“I can.” Odgu announced with what was a sense of unease within her voice.

Lucian knew none of his family really enjoyed coming here but their service to the cult was paramount. It was when Lucian started helping them out did the Cultist start buying their fruit every week. It was a day’s worth of labor, both traveling and working, that gave them such an honorable buyer. It was worth it though.

With his scythe in hand Lucian walked through the main portal and through the doors that led into the gardens. The Gardens of Morr were always a dreary place for the dead always rested here. Just as the man said the grass had gotten a little too tall and a few weeds had infested the flower beds.

So Lucian began his work at cleaning the place.

Place after place the Peasant worked with his blade cutting through swathes of plants. His hand gripping the plants by their base and pulling up the roots with the plant. With each pull he killed the weed that dared to infect the land of the noble dead.

The Garden was filled with no just tombstones but mausoleums that venerated a great many of the past Dukes and Lords of Aquitaine. While Bordeleaux was far more populated and where the Duke of this era spent most of his time, it was both fashionable in the current and previous ages that they be buried in these very gardens.

In a way working here allowed Lucian to venerate both Morr and the Lady in tandem.

So Lucian worked.

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The goal of the Gardens of Morr was mainly the defence of corpses. When one’s corpse was taken in by the dirt it was much harder to raise it from the dead. In such it was a successful victory by the cult to prevent foul Necromancy to raise the spirit from the domain of Morr.

When it came to the burning of corpses or leaving them outside, neither options were good. The burning of a corpse was to venerate the Lord Khain, brother and killer of Morr. If left out in the open then the body would become host to pathogens belonging to Nurgle. These two things considered the burial of bodies to be the most precious thing.

As for why one would use a mausoleums, whose sole role is the preservation of a body, is because there were other interests at play than simply keeping the dead from rising again.

One such mausoleum that Lucian was working next to was none other than the one belonging to Louis the Righteous. A Grail Knight was an eternal Servant of the Lady and for that their body was a temple to her divine elegance. As their living forms were but the Lady’s will made manifest, their Morr Blessed bodies had become her eternal temples.

Lucian felt it before he saw it. The air shifted just the smallest bit. He remembered someone describing at one point the taste of sugar placed directly upon the tongue. How its sweetness was so overwhelming that it could cause one’s jaw to twitch in delight. Now he knew that sensation.

She walked out of the mausoleum of Louis without much care. Unearthly beauty radiating from her face as she inhumanly graced the ground with every touch. It was not the feeling of wrongness there that was the issue but just how otherworldly the woman seemed to be.

He knew in an instant that this was a Damsel of the Lady. Too awestruck by her beauty he could not even force himself to bow to her as a peasant like he should. If he were to die for such transgression Lucian might not have mind except for the inconvenience that it would have his family.

Suddenly a thought crowded his mind. An alien thought that should not have been his own. Gazing upon her unearthly dark hair and deep set of crystalline eyes however pushed his thoughts to greater heights.

>Speak to her
>Hold that tongue

>>5715076
>KNEEL or at least honestly attempt to
>apologize for your impertinence, but you were struck by her beauty
I'm liking where this is going

>>5715076
>Hold that tongue
Quick, prostate yourself Lucian!

>>5715086
You're uh missing a second "R" there

>>5715076
>>Speak to her

>>5715076
>brother and killer of Morr
While the legends tell they are brother constantly fighting over control of the dead Morr is still alive. unless that is just what Lucian thinks.

>supporting >>5715080

>>5715080
I like that one.

>>5715076
>>5715080
>support

>>5715080
+1

Simp hours

>>5715080
SIMP SIMP SIMP

>>5715080

>kneel as this anon suggests

>>5715076
Poor guy sees a woman with eyes that aren't darkest brown and think her eyes are literal amethysts. Not to mention the noble privilege of shampoo and hair care products.

>Speak to her

Offer her a bushel of berries in this trying time, surely visiting the mausoleum of Louis she was praying for strength and heroism.

>>5715076

>Supporting:
>>5715080

>>5715076
>>Speak to her

>>5715076
>>Speak to her

Kneel, KNEEEEEEL!!!!
>>5715080
>>5715121
>>5715216
>>5715268
>>5715348

Hold Thy's Tongue
>>5715086

Speak to her
>>5715114
>>5715312
>>5715349
>>5715387

Note to many of you, please Greentext your votes. If you do not I do not count them. Does not matter here, but it almost did.

>>5715080
+supporting

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>>5715804

>>5715804
you have to use > at the beginning.

>Like this

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He needed to kneel.

He needed to Kneel!

HIs failure up until this moment to do so was both a stain upon his place was a peasant and that of the woman before him. A Damsel was far greater than he ever could be and thus should attend to her with all forms of care and honor. His failure to do so was sacrilege of the highest order. A tarnishing of the morality of Bretonnia that would start with him.

He forced himself. Pushing against the stiffness of his body that was waging a war against his mind. He could only compare what he felt now to the times in which Morr’s Terror gripped him. When his body was unwilling to move because of the sheer horror that he was experiencing infesting him.

It was sudden. He could feel the snapping of something tense and strong when he finally started to bend his knees towards the ground. His muscles seemed to bruise as their protest were suddenly shattered and sent flying into Morr’s dirt below him.

Lucian could feel the refreshing of the water upon his dirt covered pants. There was no real discomfort for this was where he belonged. He was a Peasant and she was beyond even a Nobleman. Rumored to have been trained by the Fae Enchantress herself, a Damself was second only to Grail Knights in the hierarchy of Bretonnia.

He stood there for several beats of his pulsing heart. He was expecting to hear her feet paddle against the dirt as she did not pay any attention to the man that was he. That when the shadows eclipsed another shard of grass that he would be free to resume his duties.

From the corner of his vision he noticed her shoes. Not only had they stopped moving but they had turned to face him. She was looking at him.

Fear crept within his being and in the next sudden twist he spoke, “Damsel of the Lady, I beg you to forgive me for my impertinence! I have been ensnared by your beauty that has no peer or parody. For that, I seek penance.”

“Penance,” The words were swiftly carried through the air with what could be described as fluff. The sweetness of a berry made it into the voice a human could speak, “Rise, peasant, so that I may see who I exact my judgment upon.”

A powerful command Lucian could not deny no matter how little sense it made. His feet soon rooted themselves once again upon the ground as Lucian stood to as great a height as possible.

As if a spell was broken, he realized that the Damsel was shorter than he. So great a pedestal he placed the woman upon that such a fact seemed unearthly.

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“Your name.” The woman spoke as quickly as the Peasant rose. That was reasonable, for a Damsel surely could remember the face of a person with something as simple as a glance. She only needed a name to go with it.

“Lucian of Verac.” He did not make his words flowery or convoluted. He simply answered her question to the best of his ability.

Lucian felt his eyes were getting a true look upon her. Slowly fading was the fae-presence that was there but instead that of a powerful noblewoman. That power he realized was not political. She was divinely empowered as were all Damsels. He did not know why or how he understood it but likely what he felt earlier was just a glimpse into her mystical arts.

It was then that a soft smile graced her face, “You were the seller of those blue berries I had some days ago.”

“Y-yes I am Madam.” He held back whatever cheers he felt from being instantly recognized and spoke clearly, “If you so wish I have a bushel still within the cart. It might pay assistance to one such as you who came to the Garden of Morr.”

That soft smile of hers changed somehow. Lucian had of course talked to lots of people within Aquitaine but never had he talked to a Noblewoman such as she. For this fact he was only aware that something within her demeanor changed but whatever secrets were hidden behind it he could not divine.

“I accept this gift. Will you guide me to your cart so that we can pick up your gift to me?” She said simply.

“Of course!” He cheered before quickly cleaning his scythe so that he would not bring the gravedirt into the Temple.

At a walking pace the two of them exited the temple with some of the Priests within the place looking curiously upon them. Upon their arrival at the donkey drawn cart Lucian traded out the scythe for the bushel. He felt a little regret leaving his scythe alone but he must. He was to pay this tithe of penance to her.

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Lucian did not expect much conversation to come between them as they walked through the grassfields. As such it was the woman who spoke first, “How many times have you been to Castle Aquitaine?”

With a bushel of berries in hand Lucian could not properly express his surprise at the words just spoken. He answered them though, “I come by once every two weeks and have done so for five years.”

There was a short pause there as Lucian was shaken by the prospect of ‘small talk’ with a Damsel of all peoples. He was a Peasant yet… He did not need to think about it much harder and continued, “I started when I met a few of the Priests out in the town. They saw my village’s goods as high quality so they received them. Uh, yourself?”

“I have been here for ten years.” She answered simply, “This Castle is where I was stationed to serve the Lady. To administer to the sick and wounded Knights who come seeking care in the Lady’s arms.”

Lucian nodded as he realized that she was a healer, “Then I hope my berries help both the Knights and yourself, Madam. I cannot hope for anything more than that.”

“To speak like that, someone will mistake you for a Chivalric Knight.” She said with a calm tranquility.

“I-I cannot compare to them!” Lucian announced quickly.

The Damsel looked away from Lucian for that moment with a smile to herself. In a hushed voice that she thought he could not hear the words being spoken, “You just might.”

With those words spoken they arrived at a building with a great grail upon the stained glass windows. All about the place statues of valiant Knights and symbols each signifying the righteousness of the cause. In his moment of awe Lucian only then realized that the woman had slipped out of his hands the bushel of fruit that was to be given.

This was the moment they would part. A peasant like him would never step into a Temple dedicated to the Lady. However in such a short moment he still had the woman’s attention, he could ask her something.

>What is your name?
>Any guidance to give?
>Is there anything else you wish of me?

>>5715841
>What is your name?
>"So I may tell the guards to warn you when I arrive with the next parsel, of course."

>>5715846
Bushel, not parsel
Don't know how I made that mistake.

>>5715841

>is there anything else you wish of me?

How can we serve?

>>5715805
i am sorry qm, i was actually catching up with the quest and forgot to refresh the page

>>5715841
>>is there anything else you wish of me?
i like this option, more shorter and straight to the point, whatever we might be, the mc thinks himself a peasent, so i dont want to temp fate by acting above our station.

>>5715868
Oh, more making fun of you for not Green texting right after I said to do so.

>>5715841

>Is there anything else you wish of me?
everything else sounds too impertinent for a mere peasant.

>>5715841
>How many I serve thee?
Kinda feels like this is leading up to a "I asked for but a strand of hair...she gave me three" tier situation speaking of
>Ask for a strand of hair to remember her by, or even her name so we can address the next Bushel for her
Maximum Simpery, For The Lady, and for Morr!

>>5715841

>What is your name?

>Any guidance to give?
>Is there anything else you wish of me?
"Another man called me different, though I hope he meant no true ill. A questing knight stopped and had me raise my face to him. A man of Morr's Shroud too thought he knew my face, though we had never met. All together they weigh on me head uneasy. What am I to do but ask your guidance and blessing, for today is surely the strangest I have yet known."

>>5715841
>What is your name?

>>5715904
>Supporting this

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>>5715904
>>5715921

>>5715935
No, I am in character as an illiterate and inbred peasant

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>>5715939

>>5715935
Thank you for your support fellow peasant

>>5715841
>What is your name?

>>5715841
>What is your name?

>>5715841
>Is there anything else you wish of me?

>>5715841
>Any guidance to give?
>Is there anything else you wish of me?

>>5715884
This seems fairly normal questions to ask.
Asking for guidance is more a religious/social opinion on how to go about life, which is something a peasant might ask. Lucian is young, and bretonnians are quite religious.
Anything else is offering to do more free work, which brettonians do.
Asking for the name is the only one border line near insolence, but it would be mostly out of ignorance and curiosity of Lucian. Her name is likely known in the land, and probably here in the town and the temple.

>>5715841
>Any guidance to give?

>>5715841
>What is your name?

>>5715841
>What is your name?
>Is there anything else you wish of me?

>>5715841
>What is your name?

>>5715841
ask for
>>A braid of hair
>>What is your name?

>>5715841

Asking for guidance can sound like asking for a reward for our services. And I don't know if a peasant should know a Damsel name. So continuing to convey to her that we are worthy of her attention seems to me the right decision.

>Is there anything else you wish of me?

Your Name?
>>5715846
>>5715908
>>5715952
>>5715995
>>5716194
>>5716333
>>5716377
>>5716448

Anything else you wish?
>>5715862
>>5715875
>>5715884
>>5715902
>>5716062
>>5716498

Guidance
>>5716085
>>5716104

The name wins

>>5716562
Damn, I was hoping to be 3/3 for winning votes

>>5716580
Its a mostly true democracy man, sometimes you are not on the winning side.

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>>5716582
I'm not angry about it, I'm just disappointed, have this as recompense

Omg Machine QM quest!
Back on my bookmarks you go!

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>>5716643
How do yours look? Mine look like a dissapointment. So many QMs that flaked...

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He had to think fast, not caring what came out of his mouth. A question had hung there and it needed to be spoken. It needed to be spoken for Lucian did not wish to regret this very moment for the rest of his peasant damned life.

“Madam, may I ask your name?” He finally said.

Here Lucian got a good look at her. Her hair was a deep blond while her eyes were that of crystalline blue. He had heard through rumors and some murals that the Fay Enchantress, representative of the Lady, had powerful green eyes with the same beauty he saw before him.

He did not care for anything else at that moment. Lucian did not care for her figure for this woman was not something he lusted for. She was someone to who he wanted to remember even when he stands with Morr.

“I am Alberea the Golden, Damsel of Castle Aquitaine.” She answered with a voice so smoothly that it went directly into the mind of the Peasant, “Good bye, Lucian. If the Lady shall have us meet again, I look forward to that moment.”

With those words she left him speechless.

Lucian would not forget for how could he?

His time at Castle Aquitaine had come to an end. The sun slowly inching towards the setting horizon. The Peasants did not chance staying around Aquitaine for any longer than they could for they had no money to stay within one of the few inns within the place.

Their trip took them past the ruins and through the grape ladened plains. There was no issues as they traveled. Not a Knight or another rowdy peasant getting in their way.

While things seemed calm Lucian felt something was wrong. Looking up into the sky he saw just barely what had concerned him.

It was massive and green. Its full features are being clouded by the clouds trying to protect the world from its ire. They were failing though and thus the night seemed to have just the smallest tinge of green.

It was Morrslieb.

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Lucian could see it now. Upon the Horizon as large as a mountain was Morrslieb. The green moon smiling evily upon him from its impervious station.

He ran.

Running into the forest he noticed the barking of wolves. The monsters looming across the fields that were stalking him. They had started tracking him when they saw him standing before Morrslieb. Now that he was within the forest they were upon him.

As he ran a horde of ravens flew from the trees. The birds chattering causing the beasts to become confused and start to run off his trail. As he ran the Peasant noticed one of the Ravens, whose coat was so black he noticed it because of the void it left, was now leading before him.

He followed it.

He could hear the sounds of dead leaves and plants being crushed under his feet. The crumbling of plants as the life of the world was slowly drained into the death dirt underneath him. It hit Lucian at this moment, the smells being so familiar yet he could not place his finger upon it.

It was then that the Raven went flying into the air, scending into the heavens where it belonged. As Lucian ran upon the ground he was welcomed with a pair of fangs.

Lucian felt a cold sweat dripping down his neck. The sudden shock to his mind becoming aches in both his head and muscles as they had all tensed from the momentary freight that he felt. He had to get up and move his limbs.

The Peasant wiggled out of the pile that his family members made. They were like livestock being stacked so high off the ground and it was a little worrisome to get out of there without disturbing anyone’s sleep.

Walking outside he felt the cold air slam into his face. His thoughts were only that he wanted his scythe, for he felt like he should have something in hand. Something to calm his mind.

That was not much of a fight now. He gave the tool a few good swings to see how it felt within his hands. It was in some way satisfactory as he imagined some fiend attacking him. Yet as he imagined such a foe, it seemed all too real.

He could feel it, the desire for sleep creeping back upon him. Yet he resisted it for nothing more than the terror that was welling within his heart.

>Walk around the village
>Stand in front of home
>Head out into the Forest.

>check on the donkey
We sort of teleported there and I'm worried about the old thing

>>5716755
>check on the donkey

>>5716755
>>Walk around the village
Maybe we can get slightly higher up to a vantage point. Like on a haystack to survey the area. If the moon is full, then the light will allow us to a good view around.
If we have a whistle, we can take a long too. Makes for a good signal.

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>>5716765
>check on the donkey
Seems like a good idea but also
>Thank the Dream Father, Morr, for deliverance from his enemies
Just seems right to thank the guy, fun fact as a side note Morr is the God of Death, Dreams, and prophecy
Also who's willing to bet that the Familiar but Unknown scent is Truffles (which brettonia is known for)

I'm really happy we seem to be going down the path of Faith, it's lending these quests a very nice feeling although I do hope we don't go as far as we did last quest (I enjoyed it I just don't want to retread old ground)

>>5716754
>>Their trip took them past the ruins and through the grape ladened plains. There was no issues as they traveled. Not a Knight or another rowdy peasant getting in their way.
They got home safetly
>>While things seemed calm Lucian felt something was wrong. Looking up into the sky he saw just barely what had concerned him.
This is where the dream begins

Why do you guys want to waste an update on a DONKEY Reeee....
>Head out into the Forest
I want to see that Raven in waking times, not in dreams. Maybe face those that preyed our dream

>>5716755
>>check on the donkey
donkey is our life

>>5716755
>Stand in front of home

>>5716755
>Stand in front of home

>>5716755
>Walk around the village
Look around slowly.
Close the door behind us after making sure our family is safe and just snoring

>>5716755
>Head out into the Forest.
Prophetic dream?

>>5716755

>Stand in front of home.

A man's duty is to defend his home, even if it means blocking the entrance h8wnjxusing his dead body.

>Head out into the Forest.

>>5716872
Did you briefly become a chaos spawn?

>>5716884

I thought I was giving the wrong captcha answer but no I wrote it in the wrong place.

>>5716755
>>Walk around the village

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>>5716789
I'll have you know that donkey is an important part of our family

>>5716755
>>Stand in front of home

>>5716754
>> Her hair was a deep blond while her eyes were that of crystalline blue

i though it was raven black?

>>5717057
Wizard did it.

>>5716755
>Stand in front of home
is our sister still with us ?

>>5716755
>Stand in front of home
Protect our family

Raven are birds of Tzeetntch...or were those crows?

Check on the Donkey!
>>5716767
>>5716794
>>5716765
>>5716783

Walk around the village
>>5716774
>>5716845
>>5716892

Stand Guard
>>5716813
>>5716831
>>5716872
>>5716933
>>5717090
>>5717146

Head for the Forest
>>5716860
>>5716879

Stand Guard Won Noted on the Donkey.

>>5717306
What's the Donkey's name by the way? We should sneak her a radish or something

>>5717317
It was not named, not yet. I am taking suggestions.

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It was a short walk over to the shed to grab his scythe and Lucian followed his trail back to his home. That sense of unease had not yet left him. While he surely wanted to sleep he felt that sleeping was the last thing he wanted to do. So he stood guard outside the home of his family.

Studying the forest Lucian felt his spine shiver. THe very bones within his body were shaking as a cold gust of air was carried through threatening to steal all the heat from his flesh. If he was like his brothers he would have surely returned to the pile of bodies to keep himself alive for just that little bit more time.

He chose now not to. For as the wind came through he heard the subtle sound of footsteps among the winds. They were the soft pattles of dogs, such steps that should not have caused him worry. Every gust of wind that came he could hear more and more of those creatures.

He had heard such sounds before when he was walking the numerous trails of Aquitaine.

Lucian was not surprised when he started to catch the movement within the edges of the forest. Verac was surrounded by such trees and thus he could see them everywhere. AS he stood guard they were able to choose which angle they wanted to attack him from.

HIs vigilance soon turned to confusion as a thin layer of smoke came crawling from the edges of the flora. Never had Lucian seem such a rolling cloud within the forest, and never had he seen such a malevolent fog coming forth towards him.

He waited patiently then. His Scythe no longer rested upon the ground but instead raised within his hands. With the Scythe as his relic, Lucian gave a small prayer to none other than Morr himself. It was obvious now that Morr wished for him to face these creatures and thus woke him with such a disturbing dream.

Another creeping tingle crawled down his spine. It was like a bug had wiggled its way into his shoulder and crawled its way through his skin into the center column of his body. Arriving there it had gone all the way down to his pelvis and eventually crept into the ground underneath his feet.

His body knew what was happening. Yet Lucian waited until the full green light of Morrslieb broke through the clouds for a single moment to see them all through the trees.

There were several dozen of them. While indeed they were a kind of wolf their size was much more compared to that of a freshly birthed calf than that of a dog. Where a wolf of normal size could take away a young child with ease, these were the right size to take adults with them.

Their eyes were beading with the green light of Morrslieb. Such glares telling Lucian that they were all looking upon him.

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The Wolves slowly crept in. Their eyes glanced upon him with the utmost caution. It seemed that whatever foul sorcery had turned them into the dire wolves they had become, it did not drive out the instinct and weariness that had allowed the wolves to stay alive for so long.

Lucian kept watch of the creatures with his heart beating hard. Everytime the light of Morrslieb broke through the trees he noticed that the beasts had launched themselves so much closer than what they had previously been. Whenever the light sliced in each of them were hiding themselves amongst the foliage and fog that some of them were creeping with. Each of them hoped that by hiding they could break the line of sight of Lucian and get into a blindspot of the defender.

And they had, for Lucian watched slowly as the number of wolves visible were dwindling.

Was such numbers because they were breaking off across the village or were they truly hiding from him. Indeed many of the beasts hid in places where their bulky bodies stuck out. Yet he realized that a few of what he was seeing were those that had gone missing in the last flash of light.

Now they had pierced the edge of the village. Their full demented forms being shown by the green moonlight.

They were almost here and they were after them all.

Should he cry out? Try to awaken the people asleep within the home so that they could try to get to safety? If he did that it would surely spook the beasts and cause them all to launch themselves upon the peasant as they tried to silence by raising the hue and cry.

If he does not then they will continue this scheme of theirs. Maybe it was good to keep them cautious, for he might be able to catch one or two of them if they try to nip at him like they did the donkey.

Lastly… he could…

Lucian did not have much time left. The fog was reaching his heels.

>Run away
>Raise the Hue and Cry!
>Silence

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>>5717328
>Silence
Don't make prey noises, keep the Scythe moving though, see if we can catch the biggest one unaware
Also I forgot to say earlier but if Morrslieb is overhead then we should probably be wearing a hat, the Mutant-Moon is dangerous
>>5717318
Perhaps Carrot then or Radish, whatever her favourite food is

>>5717328
>Silence

>>5717318
truffles

>>5717328
>Raise the Hue and Cry!
https://www.wikihow.com/Survive-a-Wolf-Attack
being aggressive is the key to scaring off a wolf or making them think you aren't worth the effort.

>>5717328
>Silence
We can listen...

>>5717354
These ones are mutated, touched by the source of most evil

>>5717328#
>Silence
Also second the hat, thought might be too late with us about to go into battle. (Myabe Morr can try to get a cloud over that moon?)

>>5717318
>Truffles or Violet

>>5717328
>Silence

>>5717328
>Silently move home from home and inform the village heads to prepare to barricade the houses and fight. Get a cloak and a hat from home, we will first inform dad.
Beside that dumb cousin, we are reliable and well looked by the village. They will listen to us.
This wolves will easily slaughter us alone, Morr doesn't choose fools or idiots. Verac cant be saved only with the might of a peasant boy, it can be saved by his mind and skill instead.

We have the advantage of the wolves being slow and cautious, so let's exploit it and prepare a surprise.

>>5717328
>>Raise the Hue and Cry!

>>5717328
>Silence

>>5717328

> Raise the Hue and Cry!

Raise the alarm!

>>5717328
>Raise the Hue and cry

If we want to save people, they can't die in their beds

>>5717328

>Raise the Hue and Cry!

These are creatures partially corrupted by chaos, they are more intelligent than a normal wolf. If we don't give our people a fighting chance, they will all die in their beds.

>>5717328
Kill our family while screaming blood for the blood god then hack apart the wolves while yelling out to khorne for power

>>5717518
Not a terrible idea, just needs a bit of modification

>>5717503
>Adding to this, a Prayer to Morr. Shouted or muttered, a god's protection isn't one that we would shun

>>5717518
>>5717521

I'll deny the Chaos part. This is a Bretonnian Peasant Quest, and Bretonnia does not have Chaos Cults only Incursions and Invasions.

>>5717527
You know what fair point but I counter with it's time to go full Merovech.

>>5717527
It was a prayer for Morr, the guy who's cult we've been doing work for? I think a god of death, but I'm honestly new to this setting.

>Just pray to whatever god it was we've been helping and has a scythe

Pray to the Lady of the lake her blessing shall help us protect our family.

>>5717328
>Raise the Hue and Cry!

>>5717328
>>Raise the Hue and Cry!

>>5717533
>Aping Merovech The Bloody-Handed the Rebel of Mousillon
How about no? I'd rather launch into an invasion of Cockaigne, I hear they have a mountain made of Sweet-Crystal and great springs of Broth that upwell from the earth itself

>>5717328
>>Raise the Hue and Cry!

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>>5717527
It does occur to me that Chaos has surprisingly little presence in Bretonnia, in comparison to Necromancy/Vampirism. IIRC typically the limited examples of Chaos are like, that one time a Chaospawn appeared to guard a damsel for a new Grail knight to save her or a sorcerer that I might be forgetting.

Much more numerous are the Vampiric or Black Magic things. Moussilon, the Red Duke, the Bloody Grail, Mallobaude, Genevieve, Merrovech, Cylostra, Erikan Crowfiend, Blood Dragons and Black Grail Knights.

If we wanted to go bad, the more traditional thing to do is go undead. But I wonder why it is the case that the Lady's blessings can ward away chaos but not necromancy as easily.

>>5717719

Considering the origins of the divine Lady, I would say that preventing chaotic contamination in the local human population is her primary function. In theory the divine juice should solve the other problems.

>>5717488
>>Silence
Try to off at least one or two sneakily then maybe make noise. Wolves respect aggression so if we start making noise before we scythe something they'll see us as whining prey rather than a howling predator.

>>5717768
I can see that. Lileath has to protect both her Bretonnians and the Elves, so it's much easier to focus on anti Chaos and leave Necromancy to her minions. The Elves rarely interact with Vampires in the first place, having little temptation for a worse form of immortality.

>>5717787

Nano this is a doubt I always had, in fantasy elves are naturally immortal? Or just some of them that don't age?

Silence
>>5717337
>>5717355
>>5717410
>>5717469
>>5717488
>>5717377
>>5717779

Raise the Hue and Cry!
>>5717354
>>5717473
>>5717489
>>5717503
>>5717514
>>5717583
>>5717594
>>5717679

Raise the Hue and Cry!

>>5717801
There are explicit mentions in HE/DE editions that elves functionally do not age, however that after many thousands of years (usually 6-7000 given the timeframe of WHF), they "grow weary of life and pass away" in a Tolkien elf fashion.

Later editions introduced Waystones/Spiritstones to protect Elf souls from thirsting Slaanesh on their way to Morai-Heg, or to be bound to protect Ulthuan, some on the ground or others worn around the neck iirc.

>>5717804
>>5717335
Do I not count anymore?

>>5717818
You were missed, thanks for pointing it out.

Next vote breaks the tie. I was partial to Silence but I already have a page of Raise the Hue and Cry already done and I am damn proud of it.

>>5717820
Oh then just discount my vote if you've already written it up, I could have gone either way

>>5717826
Got it. To everyone: when you vote try to only link the original post or what you are supporting. I use 4chan X which auto organizes the posts but linking multiple posts hurts that organization. I won't force you though, just my suggestion. In the end this was my error.

>>5717804
> Raise the Hue and Cry!

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The decision needed to be made quickly for the wolves were crossing by one of the nearby buildings. An entire family line, those of great great cousin Albert were to be slaughtered now that he failed in his duties. Quickness was the name of the game and thus he quickly muttered a prayer to himself.

“Oh Lady guide my voice and Morr guide by life here-after.” Upon his prayer he felt the eyes of all the wolves around him become lit. Each of their attentions drawn to him in a single moment of ferocity.

A dryness came into his mouth and he could feel his heart sink. A sickening thought came into his mind of whether any others within his village would do this for him. He knew for sure Charles would not and even Odgu being a loving Sister was not a woman fit for such a damning task. A sense of alienation came as Lucian started counting several names of those who might not do what he’s about to do.

It was obvious to him why his mind recalled these names and told him that they would not help him. The body was trying to save itself. But his soul would not allow it and if his single death would be enough to save even one other than his actions were noble.

“BROTHERS AND SISTERS OF VERAC! THE BEASTS OF DAMNATION COME! WAKE AND FLEE!”

His voice boomed through the village like the rolling of thunder. As if welcoming his call the light of Morrslieb shattered through the trees. Lucian could feel the evil face of the moon looking upon him with a wicked sense of entertainment as the wolves lunged upon him.

Instinctively the peasant moved his tattered robes so that his face was hidden from the moon’s gaze. Enough time being given to him to handle his weapon against the first of several hounds of chaos charging him!

The first Direwolf that was upon him had foam coming out of its mouth like some sickly mania. Yet its eyes were perfectly sane as such wide jaws unhinged themselves to bite at his neck. Lucian moved his scythe just as he always had, placing a heavy weight into the weapon right before the inner blade touched the flesh of the beast.

It yelped as his weapon went from the skin into the muscle that lied underneath it. However the blunt tool of a peasant no matter how well cared for could not pierce the ribbed torso that he was trying to hard to sever. Lucian felt a massive weight upon his tool as he bashed aside the wolf with sheer strength of body and will to the side.

As the others came Lucian knew this was not a hunt but a battle now.

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With his scythe already bloodied by one of them the beasts realized that a full frontal assault was not in their favor. In an instant the horde of monsters surrounded the Peasant with vengeance in their eyes for the wounds that he inflicted upon their pack.

Lucian felt it because he even heard it. From behind one of the beasts had crossed the distance in an instant and sank its jaws into his right leg. The feeling of his heart pounding as Lucian quickly brought his weapon around and slammed the edge of the weapon where he believed the jugular of the beast to be.

With a mighty pull all strength within the wolf's jaws were lost as Lucian severed the artery. Blood spewing across the ground as future fertilizer for his future grave. Lucian had to be quick as he slammed the rear of his weapon into another beast that was in mid leap towards him from the other side. He felt the reversed weight threaten to rip the weapon from his hands as the wolf was knocked out of the air to sprawl upon the ground.

Lucian felt instinct take him as he threw himself backwards. A pair of jaws coming down from above that were threatening to bite his head off with a single motion. Why he did it he did not know and he did not have the moment to thank the Gods above for his motion. He tried to swipe at the beast but the wolf had already broken distance before he could find a good place to ready his weapon once again.

There was not another attack. While Lucian had only killed a single one of them the beasts still had their nature. Challenging the strong that could kill any of their pack was never a smart move in the wild and they would not commit themselves to it unless they were positively sure. Now counting eight among them Lucian knew they had those numbers.

Lucian noticed then and there that no movement could be heard behind him. No, even the entire village was silent sans the howling and growls that were scattered about the place. Confusion quickly turned to terror as he tried to rationalize it.

As he feared that his death would become meaningless he noticed someone approaching from the fog. That sensation that was creeping throughout his body came again in the form of a clicking pressing against his skull. A warning from whatever bounds of reality he did not know telling him to run and hide.

He could not understand why as he saw the face of a woman within the light of Morrslieb. Whatever colors she possessed drowned by green, she had what could be described as a cruel smile written across her face.

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“Hello there~” The woman said as she gave a bow of mockery towards Lucian, “To think that a valiant Knight would be defending this hovel of fleas this late into the night. It almost warms my heart to see you try so hard.”

Lucian felt his mind snap as he realized what she was saying. Confusion was made but now he had a face to it, “Who are you!?”

“Does it matter?” She tilted her head with a canid expression, “You are about to die anyway Sir Knight. Protecting the dribble you so despised.”

“I… I will not abandon my Family!” Shouted Lucian as he felt his muscles tense in anticipation.

The look of confusion was placed upon the face of the woman as she heard his words. Then a roar of laughter came as she shook her head, “You’re a peasant! Ha! By the dark gods you might be the first peasant to face me by their own will alone.”

Lucian did not respond. What was there to respond to? The mockery that she slandered against all his people or the clear fact that she was somekind of dark mastermind. A Magician from distant lands ready to bring terror upon the entire realm of Bretonnia.

“Tell you what, Peasant.” She gave a nasally bark that somehow gave a hollow ring to it, “I will let you live. Go ahead, flee and tell your Masters of what happened here today.”

Lucian could not help but look at the wolves around her. He had heard tales of fay and knew never to take such monsters at their word like she was.

A gleam came from the woman as she noticed his hesitation, “My wolves will not eat you either. You shall live, so run away to your lords and their tall castles.”

>Flee
>Remain.

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>>5717858
>Remain
SHOW NOT FEAR IN THE FACE OF THE ENEMY, FOR THE LADY

>>5717858
>Remain.
For Morr! For the Lady!

>>5717858
>Remain.

>>5717858
>Flee
the hero's journey, man, we gotta begin the hero's journey.

There is the chance the QM prepared the plot hook for the priest to arrive at the nick of time and save Lucian and MAYBE the rest of the village at the expense of his old life... but I am not counting on it

>>5717858
>Remain

Our leg was bitten so I do not know if we would be able to flee without limping anyway. We have no choice but to resist.

>>5717877

Our lord is also looking for something in his domain, which means we might see an experienced knight in action.

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>>5717877
>Being a coward to start the Hero's Journey
Nonsense, true heroism is always there to begin, within. Also, pic related

>>5717858

>Remain.

If we run, we'll live forever with the memory that we let our family die while we run into the night. Honestly, it's better to suffer for one night than to live in torment.

>>5717883
in the middle of the night? who would wake up at three in the morning and say "Squire! fetch me my steed it's time to quest!"

Anath Raema shows her face.
Time to tell her to face the door and get out.

> The hunt is long. Find some other hamlet to unleash your fangs.

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>>5717888

>>5717888

Before we entered the castle we saw him on the road, and I don't remember him coming back. As far as I know he was looking for something in the villages in his domain, and I think we found the thing.

>>5717858
>>Remain.
"I could never live with myself if I abandoned my family. Moreover, to willingly act as a messenger for a foul witch... No, better to remain here and stand against you! Oh Morr, call your ravens to alight upon me."

>>5717858
>Remain

>>5717906
Based

>>5717858
>remain

>>5717877
I'd shit my pants if Gotrek and felix came rolling up

>>5717858
>Remain.

>By Morr and the lady I said I will not abandon my family

>>5717934
badass