—Regarding the Quest—

Loveless Gal is an “early modern era” fantasy quest which updates once every 2-3 days, generally with a drawing. This quest takes place in the same universe as Prinzessin Quest although prior knowledge is not necessary.

Loveless Gal archive: (1 thread)
https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=loveless%20gal%20quest

Prinzessin archive: (2 threads)
https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?searchall=Prinzessin

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—Kommgal “Gal” on his life—

I have deviated from the path of rectitude a long time ago, and while much was the result of my own seeking, I am satisfied that most of my actions - were they to be done again - I would do exactly as I did.

This is my account. My name is Kommgal Vannapar.

During much of my youth, I followed cookery and remained out of difficulty (as that was the way of doing advanced by my mother) but there were occasions in which I ignored her instruction; the first major deviation occurred on the day when I became ten years of age, during a gathering in the afternoon hours, the which, while in search for an outhouse, I came across a group of five - who were barely one or two years older than me - spying on a bathing woman near by. I asked them to leave but they were the perverse sort, and stood their ground; so I went after them with a pen I had at the time. They were dissuaded after I tore up skin and opened up their wrists. That difficulty frayed the relationship between my family and I but it was not until I was twenty did they become fully severed.

I was, at that time, apprentice of a publishing house and followed accountancy. One evening at the market I chanced upon a small woman, her height barely reaching my waist (whom I later known as “Amournnara”) who had injuries on her face. I thought of it as queer but continued doing as I did. The evening passed as any other, but in my sleep I found myself confronted by a messenger - a fellow whose height was thrice mine, whose head was that of a bird and whose agenda was most unusual - who expressed interest in me and the street-fight all those years ago.

On the day which follows this one, I would be involved in the hardest fight of my life; a fight against something gigantic, the messenger puts it, and being the “genial” man he is, offered to lend me his assistance. I could ask for a thing from him and he would - to the best of his ability - give it. I asked for strength. And so it was granted; at any moment I have in my hand anything aquatic he would call down lightning and thunder. My sword - owing to the sharkskin grip - was considered one such implement.

The day that which followed seemed not out of normality - and I considered the events of yesterday to be nothing more than an odd dream - until I frequented the fish market during the evening hours. There upon I saw thirty, fourty persons but not a single one cared as that woman was being struck by a giant four times her size. Other giants were there - they could have got him in a rush; the men and goblins could have got peace officers involved; but they did nothing, excepting walking with a pace slightly faster than that of typical and giving the occasional glance. So I acted; brandished my weapon and instructed him to take his leave. He did not. He advanced upon me and his hands went for me - I leapt back and threw a cut on the back of his hand, but that proved only to enrage him.

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With a little reluctance, I called it down; the noise was so overwhelming it deafened the entire market for the night. Even the giant recoiled - but his eyes were fixed on me. A part of him wanted to press on while another wanted to bow out. I remained on my guard, but the lightning was growing wayward - bouncing to surfaces all around me - I tried to contain it by lowering the tip and letting them pass to the ground. He remained near me, and a few wayward strands struck his calf - taking out all the fight out of him.

I knew my doing would result in legal difficulty but the last thing I expected was a lawsuit from the woman he had assaulted - over the damages done to her husband. While the judge, and the “Players of the Art” - as they were called - exculpated me on use of force, it was Amournnara who kept pushing the matter into a lengthy (and costly) one. The public was not particularly fond of me, either; I don’t recall a day when I or my family wasn’t molested about the matter even after the settlements were paid. It was fortunate the threats were not followed through. As for the publishing house, they cut me loose straightway once my apprenticeship concluded - my employment was someone else’s problem now.

…. I don’t wish to speak of the past five years too deeply. I went from one town to the next in search of employment and after a time, left the northern provinces; eventually I found a more permanent station in Oceankeep - that of slave-auditor in Nagel company.

But things felt much the same. Everything excepting my sister’s presence.

I missed her dearly - and in trying to cling to happiness, I fell into addiction; I went to pornography and bloodletting — and I remained there until very recently. On one night I encountered a colleague of mine, Airin, while on my way to purchase the new volume of the artbook. She did not like me any too well, but nonetheless assisted me greatly in finding the bookstore - even comforted me when I was disturbed while in an elevator. She only asked of me to “stop dragging other people’s dicks through the dirt.” — that is to say, the doings of my friends, Aeg and Thon, and my allowance of such, has caused much difficulty to her station.

I saw Aeg the next day; he was troubled by a theft of his items the night prior and I made him an offer - in exchange for being less lenient with the slaves, I will assist him in the matter. We quarreled briefly on the methods we intended to use, and the more legally-adjacent way won out. After re-visiting the teahouse where his hat and poster was stolen, we took our findings to Airin, who planned out a way to catch those five thieves - search the fruit market’s fringes during tomorrow’s morning. I remained (for some time) at her house after Aeg leaves; exchanging our stories and misgivings about work. We had supper and drinks together.

It was lively.

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It was during the night when I was once again visited by the messenger, who (once again) explained the particulars of my situation; I am to cross paths with another person who has captured his interest — a child of Amournnara. Apparently it was him and his four other friends that stole Aeg’s hat and poster.

Having no intention to repeat the events the which transpired years ago, I asked for his wisdom. It consisted firstly with a reminder: the child of Amournnara “Galpet” too was presented with the very same offer - and he asked for his strength, that being, the power to cause thousands of vulvas to sprout from a person’s skin. It was a most painful demonstration. Lastly shown was a memory (the which happened several months ago) of the child and a colleague of his “Tian”, discussing his difficulties with Amournnara; apparently she is the sort who still washes her son directly despite his age of fifteen.

On this morning I and Aeg shall visit the fringes of the fruit market district - we have no intention to waylay them, rather, to find where they live so a deal may be settled.

Ideally, out of court.

— Kommgal Vannapar, twenty ninth day of twelfth month.

—Kommgal “Gal” on his acquaintances—

>Maeg
The loyalest, loveliest, and gentlest woman that I know of. My elder sister has been with me since my formative years and even in her - undoubtedly busy - adulthood she still makes time for me; visiting Oceanskeep on a yearly basis, and I look forward to it everyday. I love her dearly...

>Aeg
I found him to be good company; a man of sand; a slavecatcher whose (perhaps too) even disposition made him much disliked amongst his peers; a giant, twice my height, who was a fair hand with firearms, pole weapons, and singlesticks — but seeing him draw them in anger was rare.

>Airin
A legal advisor who did not like me any too well until very recently; it was natural, under the difficulty Aeg and I (unknowingly) forced upon her. Outside of work she seems a cordial friend and wise instructor in many aspects of life I did fully know of — I like her.

>Thongla “Thon”
Another close friend of mine, although Aeg and I rarely see him outside of work. He’s a fine tattoo-artist, if a little too prone to chatting.

>Amournnara
A female goblin who - for many months - made my family bleed money for a lawsuit regarding my use of force on her husband, who I add, was striking her in public until I intervened. I have no intention on seeing her again.

>Galpet “Pet”
Adopted child of Amournnara, fifteen years of age, approximately. Him and his band of four stole Aeg’s hat and poster - one of whom called “Tian” had fair hair while another had white-colored hands.

“… seven-- seventeenth of the third month?” His hand, skeletal and infested with odd pigments due to age, flicks through the pages that - most probably - are as old as the monk himself.

“Err-”
“Yes. That is correct.” I give him a nod as he writes down his calculations.

I dislike monasteries with some intensity - the lectures and ceremonies inevitably long, the walls and floor offering little amnesty against the heat, and the fairs they do host do not really have things of interest to me - but fortune telling was always good fun. Tossing the canister around, seeing which stick came out, and interpreting the associated poetry were a welcome change to the monotony. The monks could - for a small donation fee - do so as well in a more thorough manner, and such was preferred by my mother near the year’s beginning and end.

“Ah. The belly. You need be mindful of it during the next couple months - you are bound to find success in which you pursue, and wealth will come easily to you--”

Of course. The same damned thing repeated. I am sure that will come true any day now.

“--but you must step in good health. Take pains to ensure you eat well, rest well, and the company you keep - they are vital to your health.”
“And the belly - that also refers to the womb. Do you have someone?”

“N- No. I do not have a woman.” With a little reluctance, I deny it. Even if I could - by some miracle - find someone who likes me, my mother would never allow it, anyway.

“Ah. I see.”
“Well. There is risk of the womb; pregnancy, miscarriage, abortion - you are likely to encounter such.”
“Just..”
“Just don’t do it.”
“If you don’t do it, she will not fall pregnant.”

“-uh. Yes. I.. I understand.” I nod and thank him for the advice.

“If you don’t do it, she will not fall pregnant.”
“If you don’t do it, she will not fall pregnant.”
IF YOU DON’T DO IT, SHE WILL NOT FALL PREGNANT.”
I F Y O U D O N ’ T D O I T , S H E W I L L N O T F A L L P R E G N A N T .

I brushed it off in the moment, but that phrase, that line of thought, it lingered in my heart. It festered. It gnawed at my breast. The more I thought, the deeper it burrowed, the wider that hole grew.

Abstinence. Abstinence is given as the answer to prevent pregnancies.

… Had that truly worked, how come the advice still regurgitated? How many women had pregnancy befall them, robbed them of a future because of ignorance - the which, an intentional obfuscation by their parents and mentor figures - or blind faith in a man they thought they could trust? How many were cast out of their families, sent to the fringes of districts while the men walked freely, unmolested by any consequences? And of the men who stood with them, HOW MANY--

And I locked it away.
And life continues in normality.

“Please, kid. Don’t get yourself into difficulty for my sake.” Hearing her plea was the worst. Nuan is a fine woman; she was a most understanding and genial slaughterer I have worked with; she was game to the last ditch; a woman who was the very destitute to fear; her authority - when she had to use it - seemed recognized by the folk in the wet markets.

And yet, I made her tremble.

“I’m sorry, ma’am - but I…”
“I’ll be smart about it.” Her eyes grew even more dim and weary upon hearing that, but her reaction, rather than to shout, she delivered - with a firm tone - her worries.

“It’s not that - severe - a thing. You don’t need to back up on him like that - as for the bladders, I can replace them in a week, two weeks, animals, they come and go all the time-” Her palm was laid on my shoulder - a rough and dotted thing, filled with calluses, but it lingered with warmth.

“I can’t replace you.”

“Even if you win, creamed him completely without a nick, that’s not the conclusion. Do you believe he is the sort to take that kind of loss and do nothing about it? He’ll get his cousins, his friends, his friends’ friends, to back up on you. And they may very well bring live blades if they deem you that much a difficulty. I don’t want to see you laid out, Galpet. Please - it’s not worth it.”

… I never could have dropped the matter.

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He bred loathesomeness with plenty others, not just me, but Tian and his friends; we found him not on his guard and backed up on him together.

We firstly searched him for his contents but we did not really find much - and for someone who borrowed money from so many different persons, he is not the sort to keep much of value on him, either. We sweated him for any leads. It did not pan out - he seemed absolutely incapable of keeping out of scrapes. All that coin went to someone else now, who were a better - or perhaps luckier - gambler - than him.

I myself had a different matter to settle with him.

“I- it was just-”
“I was just fooling about, cuz! It was for a laugh.” Even with an alehouse dagger to his neck, that cunt remained irritating.

“Your little ‘jest’ — do you even know how many women, men you condemn to a life of poverty and misery?”
“It ain’t so funny.” Spite and venom drips from each syllable I pronounced.

“… uh. I don’t believe it to be that severe. I’m fairly sure anyone could - very clearly - see there is a problem with the condoms.” It’s so easy to say such things when daylight is plentiful, and when you know precisely where they were pricked, and what they ‘should’ feel like.

His presumptuous remarks was… vile.

… and I said vile things in response. Things I shouldn’t of.

>You know a lot, don’t you?
What do you believe to be the efficacy of condoms made from a dog’s bladder? We could start with yours.

>We should test out that theory.
I know! Let’s start with your sister. Let’s see if we could put a child in her.

>>5950027
>We should test out that theory.

Glad to see this back
>>5950018
I really wanna know how you did the spoiler for the last 3
>>5950027
>You know a lot, don’t you?
so the dude just went out popping condoms ? bruh

>>5950027
also, this guy kinda looks like noot.

>>5950217
His hair is a lot more flared and parted

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>>5950211
Forgot to put [/spoiler]

>>5950450
Kek, it was an interesting effect by accident

>>5950027
>You know a lot, don’t you?
Seems he has a chip on his shoulder about unwanted pregnancies and what it does to women. I’m guessing he doesn’t hate his sister enough to wish it on her.

>>5950709
>>5950211
dog

>>5950132
sister
voting closed. writing.

>>5950027
>You know a lot, don’t you?

Art is already done.

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Update in progress. Gotta sleep for now.

>>5952266
>>5952090
Thanks for the update, QM!

>>5952266
waiting warmly

>you know a lot, don’t you?

His sentiment, not an uncommon one - few realize (or are willing to recognize) the pains taken for things they - themselves - do not have use of. So many giants, man, or goblins for that matter have gone their entire lives knowing so little about their females. Why must they? - Different races cannot breed with one another, so why should they care for any fertility control? Perhaps they will care for it when the shadow side of marriage is thrusted upon their sisters, their daughters, their grand daughters before they are of age.

Pregnancy was to befall his sister - and he himself brought it upon her.

… but I could not say that. I couldn’t. I do not wrestle with pigs. In the end, even threatening to follow through with my intention with the dog proved fruitless - little more than chicken feed was in his household, and much of the anger was taken out on him. But some remained.

“Worthless sack of shit.” Gyeng - with his thumb - cracked his fingers to ease the soreness from how many times he struck him with the iron-filled hilt. A touch of redness was still on his white-strucken hand. “I knew we should’ve done this earlier. We had it, Tian. We fucking had it.”

“I doubt it, him going willingly. _ _ _ _ _ had his peoples with him - maybe… maybe we could’ve had the drop after he left the noodle place, but that’s still three of his. It wouldn’t been clean. And I doubt he would’ve had anything on him - you don’t go to a noodle place for that alone. Too much risk. Not enough yield.” Tian tried to placate him, but that too did not pan out.

“And we - got - no yield! Your calls keep getting us nothing and nothings. And I ain’t got that much time to get it all back. Not that much, not no more.”

… Gyeng’s heart and soul (and his two other friends, I suppose) were wrapped up in the pursuit of a “next score” with enough breadth for them to quit being runners of ale-houses and cook-shops for a length of time. Tian was far more interested in fooling about and living day-to-day, only occasionally adding to his pocket when circumstances permitted - and it proved safe to do so. And I’m stuck in the middle of everything. I’m stuck. I don’t wish to go against them, but…

“They’ll bring onto themselves difficulty.”

( https://youtu.be/KKedfOBRmyA?si=WF2aZzOGW00vftrO )

Miss Nuan straightway knew of my doings when I came to her, but the kindly woman she is, nevertheless gave advice when I asked of it.

“That’s… not an enviable circumstance you are in. Well. I would tell you to bow out before they get into more mischief, but That’sEasierSaidThanDone--” She stopped speaking for a moment once her words became coarsely mixed together. “I know how - Compelling - they can be.”

“You need to remove yourself from the situation entirely if you are to be safe. Give them a reason why you will no longer be around and stand - firmly - on it. Have it be from your instructor or your mother - persons of authority, persons they cannot influence.”

“Take a different road to that music school of yours. If that is not within reach, go and leave at different times. Don’t be around where they stay - a longer walk to another eating place, teahouse, that be twenty minutes, or an hour, it is worth it.” I dimly nodded along with her every suggestion.

“Yes, Miss Nuan. I- I understa--”

“Promise me - you will advance my words. Promise it in earnest.” Her fingers grasped my shoulder as she implores me. It was thin and wrinkly - partly from her age but mostly from the day’s work of handling blood and other liquids - but it was the firmest yet gentlest touch I felt.

“Yes. I will- I will do that; I will bow out from their company. I- I.. I promise it, I promise it, ma’am!” Both of my hands reached out and grasped hers; my fingers wrapped around every inch of her hand. I had no intention of letting her go as words were nervily delivered from my mouth.

“Pft.” She chuckled lightly, amused.
“In earnest?” I jerked my head back and forth, nodding with her as speedily as I could of. My hands still firmly cling onto her.
“And should you break that promise?” Miss Nuan jokingly asks as I nuzzle my face against her old fingers.

“may i be struck down by lightning, then, if that be the case...” Jokingly I muttered my answer.

( … )
( … two months felt a lifetime ago. )

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Cheap clothes. No stockings. Hat of the plainest possible fit. I remembered well Airin’s words as I prepare myself for this morning’s trip - the fringes of the fruit markets (or the market district itself, betterly put) are not to be taken lightly.

Stacks of additional shirts, breeches, and stockings make full the thighs. Anything but an earnest thrust or cut would blow through, and even then, no more than a few inches.

Wrapped high on my hip is a belt - the which the basket-hilted sword is thrust into. The sharkskin grip still remains firm enough to hold onto - the “turning of the hand” likely will not happen were I to throw a cut - but I wish to not draw in anger all together.

On my head is a dark wide-brimmed hat, and - most importantly - underneath lies a secret; The metallic skullcap most probably will not come into play, (considering the goblins are half my height), but it is not to be chanced.

With everything at the ready, and against the soon-to-rise sun, I march to the center of Oceankeep; a place where the confederacies of industries are pressed together, like potted fish; a city within a city. And within the south-west quadrant of this pot lies a street not cared for any too well - but nonetheless remains a place of great foot traffic.

“Tg--”
“Hng.” Aeg briefly hisses as he nearly trips on the lumpy road. I don’t blame him - I am half his height and even I myself could barely see those bumps before my sandals connect with them. How those old-timers can walk here bare-foot, I do not really know.

“Uh.”

Before we reached this district, we had a few ideas about our quarry; the yellow-haired kid and the white-handed kid, especially the latter. I suspected he had a skin condition, most probably from the acidic nature of certain fruits, while Aeg believed it to be result of prolonged exposure to strong cleaning agents.

Unfortunately, we both appeared correct.

“Fifteen, Eight- ‘bout twenty on that side.” The giant solemnly notes how many fruit vendors - and just the ones with street-side stalls alone - have specks of white on their hands. “Ten on my side.” I spotted a good number of folk whose white-laiden hands hold boxes and bundles passing through and disappearing into homes and storefronts.

Welp. That idea - a quick glance around town - did not pan out. The longer we stand in the open, looking around, the more likely we are to be noticed - either by the locals, or those kids. We need a place to stay, ideally around thresholds, but where?

“Eggs. Thoroughly cooked ones - they in particular, are of great help for the morning after drinking.” Another piece of advice from Airin comes back to me.

Considering the theft happened late in the night, they might be the sort to also spend time at nightly places - including alehouses. I myself never did it, but I knew many sixteen, seventeen years old who did. Nesting at a cookshop and seeing who comes around to there or other eating places nearby could prove fruitful.

“That one - that one there is good. ‘Lot of doors. Remote rooms. You can stay there for hours unmolested without much money.” Aeg points to another establishment near a forked path into the fruit markets. ‘I’d stay there if I ran off on someone and needed a place to lay low for the night.’ is the message he also subtly conveys.

He does bring up a good point. If those five kids were chased by Aeg all-night, the smartest play would - instead of heading home immediately and potentially giving him the drop - is to stay at a different location entirely. We could set up around there and watch who comes and goes.

We can’t really split up either; those kids could slip away from Aeg if he’s alone, and if I’m alone and they spot me, they might have the idea to back up on me. And I’d rather not see myself in court again.

The location we decided on was…

>cookshop
A kid who’s been drinking too much might be eating here.

>teahouse
A kid who’s the stingy, careful sort probably would sleep here.

>>5952966
>teahouse
If I recall correctly, we know they hang out in places like this.

>>5952966
>teahouse

>>5952966
>teahouse

I will blindly trust >>5952983

>>5952966
>teahouse
I don’t remember much about them drinking, Nuan mentioned finding another restaurant/teahouse (implying she knows he frequents the latter), and Aeg wasn’t far from one when he was robbed. Gyeng also works at cookshops and alehouses and wants out so he may not want to hang around them in his off time. Bad memories, and too many people who may piece together what he’s up to perhaps?

>>5954511
Yeah, that's what I recalled as well. And they're young and Galpet seems like a bit of a square despite the crowd he hangs with.

Hello folks, I will be continuing the “Trivia” posts similarly to the last thread - both to prevent the thread from aging too quickly and also so you’d have something to read during the days in which I cannot update.

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— Trivia: On Kommgal —

>character design

Much of his attire is based on 17th Century European clothing. His breeches and shirt are based on the designs in this video ( https://youtu.be/1PjmD4tDSZM?si=txUylCfuXcJclIW4 ) His doublet and belt is inspired by Hellish Quart Kalkstein’s ( https://youtu.be/6zRdjB8s41M?si=yFGF4rLH7vIZ7XEW at 0:39 in particular)

With one adjustment; the shoulder wings are slightly flared out and stylized to more literally resemble wings - a nod to his benefactor.

As mentioned in the previous thread, his sword is based on the “Hanwei Cromwell Sword” — a reproduction of a sword owned by Oliver Cromwell. Especially the wire-bound sharkskin grip and orange-colored scabbard. The idea of channeling lightning through it is from Sekiro’s Genichiro Ashina bossfight.

>personality & backstory
I wanted to make Gal someone miserable and self-loathing, someone distant to most yet vulnerable, but still has the capacity to change greatly. His internal thoughts - especially the darkly sarcastic ones - I borrow from RDR2’s Arthur Morgan. As for his personal issues, willingness to use violence, unhealthy habits and a fixation on his sister, they are taken from TCOAAL’s Andrew Graves. (And much like Andrew, he can let his past be ‘buried’ or let it continue to fester and ‘decay’ — although the choices Gal made thus far seems to put him in the former territory, for now.)

His situation with Amournnara I have taken from real-life incidents involving self-defense scenarios and a few news reports.

Marc Mcyoung sums it up pretty well in this article ( http://www.nononsenseselfdefense.com/repercussions.htm ) — just because you win in criminal court, doesn’t mean the public - or the family of the person - will be happy about it. Sometimes people really do get put through the ringer for it - although he’s hardly the first person to have this happen to - Kyle Rittenhouse is probably the latest and most “well-known” example of this.

Even the use of force itself still scarred Gal pretty deeply (after five years since that day) - a sentiment that seems pretty common amongst those who have used deadly force in self-defense - he only touches upon it while drinking with Airin, and it is why he is so adamant on dealing with those kids legally.

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>>5954511
He was robbed in a teahouse, but yeah

>>5952983
>>5954511
>>5954583

you’ve have it pretty correct.

>>5954601
>Marc Mcyoung sums it up pretty well in this article ( http://www.nononsenseselfdefense.com/repercussions.htm )
interesting, also found this http://nononsenseselfdefense.com/rape.html in the site and while it's not uncommon since it's a self defense focused site, it got me off guard a little.

Hello folks. I am a little busy during this week - the update should be out by Thrusday or Friday’s end. See you then.

>>5956279
Thanks for the update!

>>5956279
waiting warmly

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>>5956300
>>5956493
WIP.

>>5957992
Your art has gotten quite, quite good.

Updating tomorrow. Headache.

>>5958106
I’ve been dealing with a low fever. I feel ya.

>>5958106
take care, OP

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>>5957992
Mordhau / Mordschlag.

>teahouse

I wouldn’t want to give someone - who, for much of the night, pursued on foot a band of five for his belongings - the drop either. If a man was determined as that, and was four, five times my height, I would hide away, too. Especially in a place so cheap, so walled off yet populated. And even if they were caught, most of the residents are not “violence professionals” - as Aeg puts it; they may very well win out in the play even if someone were to draw against them. Our countrymen in alehouses, though, they could easily meet them on the way back of the “same road.”

With a light nod, I agree to his plan. Few words were exchanged as we march to the teahouse--

“Hng-”
“Gh-”

Well, excepting when we both nearly tripped on the entrance’s threshold. They must be in competition with monasteries on reminding the importance of pedicure to the people - they really ought to charge barbershops for the advertisement they provide.

[ https://youtu.be/_cq2SwYyVDw?si=3g9tBS8TgivLVJGA ]

“Ugh, I know precisely what you meant - that’s why I stick with hoses with open toes and heels whenever I don’t need of shoes.” Aeg moans about the ingrown toenails and the difficulty in removing such while glancing at people coming through the doorway.

“Ah. I found them too loose in most cases. My superiors do not very much like that. And those hooks and eyes, they don’t feel well on me when I sit.” Mindlessly I prop my face up with my hand while another shakes a cup around - mostly to appear bored, as to better blend in with the rest of the folk, although that appears truer with every passing minute.

“Oh, you need those- er- pointed ones. Those laces with metal cones on them; they don’t press against the body at all, and you can push them through the slits pretty well - no fooling about! - just push through and you can tie them.” I take a sip of the punch as Aeg becomes a living broadside. Then again, I’d rather not have - with much regularity - my toe swollen and impaled by my own nails.

( Ugh. This - is - becoming quite the chore. )

We sat, we walked around, we pressed our ears to the walls, again and again and we still got nothing. Nothing of substance. The ringing of the clocktower’s drum did not bring about any sort of emotion - save for the nauseating inevitability of work encroaching on us. Twice now has it rung; declaring the time as being seven in the morning. Two hours never felt - so - long and fruitless. My eyes feel sore - even sorer than usual - and I haven’t looked at a single document yet. I see clearly now why slavecatchers would do (the occasional) dumb shit rather than stew in this normality for day and days. I do not condone it–

[ https://youtu.be/qjUi4kc-Lpc?si=fRMitMvSJ7h85xXw ]

“ d o n ’ t . ” His hand grasped mine as he whispers to me. I heed his advice; I do not turn around.

An expression of worry, nerviness, and anger flashed across Aeg’s face as he takes another minor sip from his cup, all the while looking at someone; the motion of bringing his cup up to his face mostly conceals his face.

After a moment - and a nod from him - I push our room’s door more ajar and throw a glance; from behind I see a goblin with partly yellow hair. We both exchanged a nod before I went after him.

The kid staggers around with one hand on a feder’s blade - a blunted steel longsword which has a spatulated point - with the quillons resting on his shoulder, while another barely holding a swollen bag, almost dragging it. He must be tired. On his chest is a leather jerkin similar to Aeg’s, and his breeches lengthy and puffy; to most, he appears a sixteen, perhaps fifteen years old who woke up early for a class of fencing and other exercises.

His reach is nothing compared to my own once my sword - the which, has a live blade - is brought into action, but he still very much is a threat; the moment he drops that bag, he can very speedily bring the other hand further down the blade, holding it like one would a poleaxe - and strike with the quillons or pommel. Strikes to the thigh would be blunted by the clothes I stuffed in my breeches, but to the lower legs? That could break bones. I keep my distance and pretend to be a person as equally sleepy as him, staggering around and covering my eyes every so often, even breaking line of sight on occasion and slowing my pace.

My pursuit soon leads me to a room - one of many that surrounds the teahouse’s side, one so uniform, it resembles another layer of wall. I caught a brief glimpse inside as I passed him; a room stuffed with - at the least - two other goblins and their belongings, the walls barely able to accommodate them and their rampart. I had some reluctance to bow out after taking note of the room’s number until I realized a few of the rooms around them were empty, and most queer of all, their doors were similarly ajar to one another.

A few moments after I walked past that corridor, the sliding of wood and paper could be faintly - but repeatedly - heard.

For once during this morning, a grin appears on my lips — THEY PLAYED THEIR HAND TOO EARLY :)

Returning to our quarters, I inform Aeg of the room number and a contingency: if I do get spotted, I’ll lead them to the entrance, and he could follow behind. Before I went after them again, Aeg hands me a book; partly as plausible deniability were I to be confronted (‘I was walking to somewhere more quiet to read, not stalking you, obviously.’) and partly because its breadth and length alone would make it a decent weapon which could buy me enough time to draw my sword or bow out.

“ - im?”
“- - o.”
“ - - - od!”

It took a while before I could parse their speech while keeping myself a safe distance away, but eventually I did get overhear something noteworthy.

“- no. no. that’s not what i'm saying. we don’t do it like that. you go make that deal, that is it on your end — we’ll see him later.”

“i still don’t like this. what if he had his peoples with him?”

“i’ll worry about that.”
“and - what - peoples with him? he’s not going to have them, and even if he did, it’s three of us. he’s game. we can deal with some rich kid - a kid with rich parents, with more money than sense, more rather.”

After a brief pause - and a huff - does the conversation continue.

“so was pet, damn you.”

“well…”
“he ain’t mine.”
“just get that fuckin’ poster sold and things will pan out - for everyone.”

“it ought to. if this gets back to him, in anyway--”

“your friend will be fine, fuck’s sake. simmer down. that guy will not pick it up - and even if he did, he ain’t gonna back up on him!”

“yeah.”
“probably.”
“just- when — i’m — doing the deal--”

“yeah, yeah, i ain’t retarded. i ain’t gonna be there at six, shit, i ain’t even there most of the time. even when they have fairs.”

“mhm.”

“just get him on screwpinecanal.”

Shit. This is becoming a whole different difficulty altogether - from what I can tell, that yellow-haired kid is planning on selling that poster to a friend of Galpet, and the others are planning to rob him afterwards, on the… uh. I believe Screwpine-canal is the name of a road. I vaguely know of it, and only negatively; grimy waterways and unchecked vegetation are its most mentioned traits.

Sensing a certain weariness from their words, I did not linger much longer after the road’s name and time was mentioned.

“Yeah. Good call. I don’t believe they’re planning to stay long either.” Aeg nods in agreement with my decision to bow out. Still, worry stirs on his face; We’ve gone from a spur-of-the-moment theft, to a planned out robbery of a friend of a friend of these kids. They might be only a step, perhaps half a step away from murder - if things don’t pan out in a manner they expected, if that kid puts up a fight (or they believe that to be the case), or even if his pocket was not of a certain breadth, they may very well might kill him out of spite. They’re probably not that retarded, but…

“So.”
“Do we still… proceed?” I ask him whether we should still continue with the plan to follow them home - having the drop on their households would be an incredible piece of leverage, perhaps enough to stop this whole difficulty entirely, but what if they pick up on us before we get there? They’d cancel today’s robbery, slip away again, and then do that later unmolested.

“I ain’t know either.”
“Maybe- maybe we should bow out. We already got the time - and - the place. And Airin, she might know more of the Screwpine-canal road.” Aeg sighs as he looks at me.

File: Aeg_and_his_singlestick_2(...).png (2.75 MB, 1536x2048)

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We both know of two other plays we could make; One is to involve peace officers, tip them off on a robbery that which will take place on today’s evening, and the other is to waylay them ourselves. The former is more likely to scare them off as opposed to stopping them for good, while the other… we don’t really wish to go there either. The legal aftermath would be a lengthy one - especially for Aeg, regarding the use of force, but if we don’t report this incident, are we really sure of ourselves we will not be caught, no one would report us? That’s a gamble.

The play we decided on is to…

>continue to follow them
We still have an hour or two before work begins, and from how the conversation is going, it is most probable they will leave this teahouse soon; we just need to follow them home without being noticed. We do this right, we can end this whole difficulty pretty immediately.

>bow out and talk to Airin
We can’t take the chance of being spotted; we leave this teahouse and report to Airin about our findings. Maybe she could come up with a course that’s not going to land us in legal (or mortal) difficulty.

>>5958736
>bow out and talk to Airin
She's the best at planning, and at avoiding legal jeopardy

>>5958736
>bow out and talk to Airin
No sense being caught early.

>>5958736
>continue to follow them
we're not stalking you, we're finding someplace quiet to read jeez

>>5958736
>bow out and talk to Airin
we get the drop on them later without the risk of them finding about us.

Art is ready. Writing WIP.

>>5960757
waiting warmly

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Hello folks, can’t finish writing tonight. About halfway done, though. Here’s a passage; It’s high time I describe his workplace.

“…Eventually, staring back at us was our headquarters; a wide building with height in excess, each floor resembling a box stacked atop another, and each surrounded by railings. Had an artillery piece and a couple drums were installed, it would essentially become a clock tower….”

— Trivia: clocktower —
Based on the 1782 Clocktower design! Ayuttaya era thailand (14-18th century) had these, but this is the only reconstruction of it that we currently have.

The three drums are stationed at three different floors.

The top (smallest) is to be rung if the captial was invaded [never rung]
The middle is for fire
The bottom is for timekeeping during sunrise / sunset

There is mention in the historical documents of artillery pieces on city corners and they were reportedly used in the same manner - to tell the time and to warn of a fire hazard depending on the number of shots. Apparently a tradition copied from Singapore.

>>5962104
Neat! We have a cannon we use ceremonially on certain holidays for the same thing, in a tradition dating back from long ago.

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Hello folks. Sorry for the slow updates recently - a lot of exams and projects during this and next week. I should be able to update tomorrow, though. For now, a sneak-peek of the art.

>>5962996
No worries, QM. IRL comes first!

>bow out

The yield simply is not there. We know of their next play, when it will take place and where. We — have — the drop. Burden of proof would naturally lie upon us were we to confront their families and accuse those children of theft or robbery - the which, as we do not have excepting ‘I heard them’ and ‘His hat and poster was stolen by them yesterday’ - would not prove prudent. Such a course is in Airin’s province, anyway.

So we take our leave.

Vibrant amber and ivory lingers in the sky as the morning approaches its full breadth - even in winter, sunlight shrouds the seaside province as if a veil. The brisk daybreak air was on the wane by the time when we left the district. Once a distance away, and away from eyes, we also swapped out our clothes; I myself exchanged a pale shirt for one of darker red shade, and my breeches, a lighter one. For hoses, I chose ones which have soles joined and forego the sandals. Aeg - on the other hand - puts on an even shorter jerkin with deep slashes on both the front and back.

Ah, to be a slavecatcher.

“Hmm.”
“What should I get for her after this, Gal? Is she the sort who likes cups?” Our conversation - perhaps unsurprisingly - drifted to Airin as we walked.

“… I do not know for sure. But she did seem to have a whole lot of bronze and glass cups from what I’ve seen--” I take a moment to recall the events of yesterday, all the while something resembling a grin appears on my face. “Oh! Uh- yes, she talked of cider being her preferred drink. If you’re giving her something, it could probably be that.” His head turns a little upon hearing that.

“Huh. Noted.”
“I don’t recall her saying that. How’d--”

Uh. Well. I suppose there is no hiding it now. “Over supper. Yesterday.”

“Pft. Ah, haha. Ahhhh. So - that’s - why you were all nervy and shit when we was at her house.” Aeg chuckles as he taps my shoulder.

“Ha, no.”
“My intention wasn’t that - I just wished to talk for a bit. I hadn’t an idea of it until she asked me to get her supper prepared at a cook shop. When I came back--” Aeg chuckles even harder, and so did I. It took a moment before I could stifle it and speak again proper. “She had everything set up. The whole dining room, mats, seats, the cups and this - colassal - bottle of cider.”
“We had…”
“We had lively times.”

“Ah, that’s real nice. God damn, cuz, you robbed her whole closet, huh.” Aeg jokes about the articles of clothing I had stuffed in my breeches earlier.

“Err- no. It was not like that; I did not spend the night there.” Ruefully I force that sentence out of my throat. His expression also dims a little.

“Ah.”
“Well, don’t worry ‘bout it, all that much. There’s no really need to hurry if the two of you aren’t comfortable with that yet. Just--” Aeg takes a moment to pause. His brows grow crooked and eyes turn narrow.

“It ain’t good, that other way.”
“When the other person feels it to be a begrudging obligation, it ain’t good for both. Don’t hurry it, but… do talk about it in earnest. We all have our lines, what we like and don’t - it’s less hardship that way if you know hers and she does you the same.” Aeg’s pained expression and the somber manner in which he conveys his words speak greatly to his familiarity in such a field.

“Yeah. I understand.” Heeding his words, I give him a nod.

The rest of the walk, we spent mostly in silence and reflection; sex, when you or your lover do not mean it in earnest, and do not feel particularly happy over the course of it, is such a thing so different to mastupration? I don’t know.

Eventually, staring back at us was our headquarters; a wide building with height in excess, each floor resembling a box stacked atop another, and each surrounded by railings. Were an artillery piece and a couple drums to be installed, it would essentially become a clock tower. Their age would be comparable, anyway.

“Well. See ya.” Aeg - with a nod - parts way with me after a few more moments of walking together. With him and the other slavecatcher presiding in the voluminous halls of the lower floors, I continuedd the climb alone; dividers and shutters growing more abundant with every room I passed until I reached a particular side of the third floor. Someone ought to color these signs again.

But enough of that.

After hanging up my hat and belt, I look over today’s notes one more time — a follow-up on two clients in the morning, and since it’s the year’s end, there’s bound to be last-minute clients rushing to register or conclude their contracts with slaves before our offices close up. The congregation of slavecatchers certainly advances that opinion.

(…)

“Thanks, dear. Oh, and, uh- about the house slaves, those, they- only the children of slaves count as those, yes?” What was supposed to be a brief appointment before noon dragged on as a middle-aged woman kept asking about the particulars of slavery. Even her son (which, for some reason she has decided to bring with her into my office) looks just as exhausted as I am. So this is how Airin feels.

“Yes…. ma’am… children born of parents - either of whom are slaves - will be considered household slaves. And no, they cannot be removed from slavery through any means.” The situation already chaffs me, perhaps due to her mannerisms resembling Amournnara’s, but I try to answer her question while maintaining a plain expression.

”Uh, right, I see. But. But I heard people say that’s not true - a few months back a son of a friend of mine had married this slave girl, and said their kid will not be that.” Ugh. I almost groaned in response; for a woman whose household has - in her own words - over two dozen slaves, she ought to know this already!

“In that case, she is no longer legally considered a slave, ma’am. Marriage between a slave and a slavemaster, or their descendants, will remove said slave from slavery--”

“Tch. I should of — known — a woman of that sort would’ve done anything to get out of her station.” The elderly female scoffs. “A rotten girl like that- ugh, I wouldn’t have it, to let her drag him down like that if it was my son.” After a sigh, she ruffles his hair - although the son doesn’t look any less nervy. I wonder if her actions are to calm her son, or to calm her own nerves. Either way, she is getting on mine.

Mercifully, the bellowing of a clocktower’s drum cuts this nonsense short; noon has commenced, and our services are to be halted for an hour of lunch.

“Ah, sorry, I got too carried away. I must have taken up so much of your time already. Thanks for your help, dear.” As she and her son takes their leave, she pauses. Her foot stops. Ugh. I already know her intention.

“One last thing, dear. Just one question. About that story I mentioned - if that girl gave birth before the marriage was finalized, her child, that would’ve been the property - a house slave - of the slavemaster instead?”

In any other circumstance, I would have answered in earnest, as an auditor would to a question from their client, but she has made - abundantly clear - her intentions: she hates that girl. She believes her to be the sole reason why that marriage happened, how she was the puppeteer behind that man’s actions as opposed to his actions being his own, and now, were I to arm her with a knowledge, would use it in the future to bring about more household slaves in the world. Slaves, the which, she probably does not know their full particulars, either. Or more likely, justification towards her hatred of this relationship, but I know damned well how deeply ‘mere’ words can cut - slander from one person is an annoyance, but such a venomous thing doesn’t remain alone. It spreads, and if it poisons company they cannot remove themselves from…

I respond to her with…

> “Uh. I do not believe so, ma’am. If you are interested in the law, our company’s broadsheet has a synopsis of it. I have one right here.” [FOLLOW MY HEART]
She has nothing but contempt for her fellow woman. She does not believe that man to be partly responsible for his decisions. She doesn’t respect a damned thing excepting the usefulness of household slaves — this uterus can go rot in hell. I am not telling this female a damned thing.

I doubt she’s the sort to read that broadsheet thoroughly over believing folks like me, anyway. She’s shown me that much. And even if she did, I made damned sure I picked from the stack of outdated broadsheets.

>“I can only advance the opinions of our legal department, ma’am. If you have any more inquiries, our lounge of the first floor have broadsheets pertaining to law.” [FOLLOW MY MIND]
I will not arm this female with any more venom (that, she already has in excess) but I will not put my colleagues in difficulty, either. Airin already has it hard enough. I promised her that much. But I cannot get - myself - into difficulty, either. I cannot help anyone if I am in the shitter.

The lounge no doubt will be crowded today - all those broadsheets are likely taken - and the wait will be damned long. I cannot stop her, of course, but I can direct her to a most indirect path.

> “That is… correct, ma’am.” [FOLLOW MY DUTY]
As much as I despise this woman, I cannot betray my duties as an auditor. I must answer in earnest. I’m not liked any too well by most; if I were to bring about more difficulty to my colleagues or superiors because of my lies, I’m creamed. I promised Airin that I would remain straight, and that is what I intend to do.

But I’m not obligated to give her any more information than that which she asks. She can go find more on her own.

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… After that whole difficulty, respite was now within reach. I really could use some duck noodles.

“Mister Kommgal.” A voice from behind calls to me as I was about to leave the second floor. Ugh. I know that gravelly voice too well. A turn confirms my reluctance to be well-founded.

“Mister Tarnin.” I give a quick nod as the red-skinned giant approaches.

The internal auditor flips through his stack of tablets and presents one to me; faintly carved on the wax are - along with mine - a series of names that I can vaguely recall. “Sorry to bother you - I just need to make sure your name is spelt correctly.”

“It is correct.”

“Thank you. That will be all.”
“By the way, the old couple’s restaurant is out of ducks.” Surprisingly cordial words from the auditor, but I doubt that will last. I give him a nod and move on. Not even good food is within reach today, it seems. Damn it all.

I settled for a bowl of egg noodles and some bits of pork belly. It was adequate, as far as keeping my gut from rotting is concerned. I wanted something sweet to wash it all down.

“Miss Airin?”
“Mister Kommgal.”

( https://youtu.be/FrqIHunTHgU?si=mW1skggQ63XVCfRe )

Once again, I joined her in a remote corner of the world. Weary smiles flashed on our faces as we waited for our drinks. On a day not so busy, perhaps we could have sat together and swapped stories for hours on end in this teahouse. Oh well. A standing conversation with her is not so bad. Not so at all.

While much of the talk - as one would expect - revolved around those children, and how to best respond to their actions, another topic inevitably brought up was our own.

“Yes. I’d- I’d love to.” Nervy I may be - and act - I made clear my intentions; I wish to see her again. After some discussion, we decided to have…

>supper together, tomorrow.
Airin knows of a spot in the eastmost side of Oceankeep; one with - in her own words - “damned good shellfish” for a moderate fee. It’s a seaside place, so the view should be nice, and air relatively brisk. It’s not that far from her house, too, but I don’t wish to think too deeply ahead.

An evening with her sounds nice.

>afternoon tea together, tomorrow.
Airin mentions a place she often stays at whenever she needs to pore over her cases in peace; a teahouse in the northern parts of town that has quite the retinue of bakeries and sweets. We both could really use an afternoon to unwind, after the - everything - of this year.

Let’s take it a little slow.

>>5964086
>“Uh. I do not believe so, ma’am. If you are interested in the law, our company’s broadsheet has a synopsis of it. I have one right here.” [FOLLOW MY HEART]
fug this bitch
>>5964090
>supper together, tomorrow.

>>5964086
>“I can only advance the opinions of our legal department, ma’am. If you have any more inquiries, our lounge of the first floor have broadsheets pertaining to law.” [FOLLOW MY MIND]

>>5964090
>supper together, tomorrow.

>>5964086
>>“I can only advance the opinions of our legal department, ma’am. If you have any more inquiries, our lounge of the first floor have broadsheets pertaining to law.”
I'm on lunch break bitch, look it up yourself

>afternoon tea together, tomorrow.

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Hello hello. As mentioned in >>5962115 - I will be a little busy this week. The next update will take a while.

Since we’re ~17 days in, almost half way of a thread expiration date, I might as well do something to keep up activity.

FEEDBACK:
>What do you think of the current pacing? Too fast? Too slow?
>What do you think of the description of things / prose? Too much? Too brief? Are they clear?
>What parts do you dislike the most about this quest?
>What parts do you like the most about this quest?
>Have you played / read my other quests? (Sira / Prinzessin / Unwanted Children / etc.) If so, what did you think of Loveless Gal compared to them?

Q&A:
If you’ve got any questions regarding any matter, or anything you need further elaboration, you can ask it here.

See you soon.

>>5965949
>What do you think of the current pacing? Too fast? Too slow?
Good speed

>What do you think of the description of things / prose? Too much? Too brief? Are they clear?
Good, and I love the wording

>What parts do you dislike the most about this quest?
OP's busy life and resulting slow update schedule

>What parts do you like the most about this quest?
OP's writing style

>Have you played / read my other quests? (Sira / Prinzessin / Unwanted Children / etc.) If so, what did you think of Loveless Gal compared to them?
Prinzessin - I like the much clearer goal here, but I liked the MC more in Prinzessin

>>5965949
>What do you think of the current pacing? Too fast ? Too slow ?
pacing is fine.

>What do you think of the description of things / prose? Too much? Too brief? Are they clear ?
the descriptions have been good and clear.

>What parts do you dislike the most about this quest ?
the slow doots, but we can't do much about irl stuff so we deal with it.

>What parts do you like the most about this quest ?
Gal's interaction with people

>Have you played / read my other quests? (Sira / Prinzessin / Unwanted Children / etc.) If so, what did you think of Loveless Gal compared to them ?
Read Unwanted Children. For me they're on equal terms since both were going for something different.

>>5965949
>What do you think of the current pacing? Too fast? Too slow?
Just right!

>What do you think of the description of things / prose? Too much? Too brief? Are they clear?
I still prefer dialogue with tags/identifiers personally, but I'm not having any real trouble following along.

>What parts do you dislike the most about this quest?
Update speed/schedule, but I also get it and am not fussed.

>What parts do you like the most about this quest?
The setting and culture, the day-to-day life aspects, and the character dynamics.

>Have you played / read my other quests? (Sira / Prinzessin / Unwanted Children / etc.) If so, what did you think of Loveless Gal compared to them?
All of them since Goblin Assassin. Even Return to High School. The Sira trilogy was probably my favourite, but this is a close second.

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I appreciate all the kind words.

>>5966034
Ha, Emi is probably the furthest away from Gal in terms of social standing. For Prinzessin, it was supposed to be a much slower paced, slice-of-life quest. Kinda like VA11HALLA visual novel - there’s some shit going on with the world, and sometimes it does affect you, but life goes on.

>>5966069
Ah, Unwanted Children! That was probably my first time doing a TCOAAL - inspired artstyle and when the writing took a more historical basis. Unwanted Children and Prinzessin are probably the quests which have the most characterization of protagonists and the NPCs compared to my previous ones.

>>5966128
I appreciate it, RQM. You’ve been with me since my beginnings - back when my writing was still switching from second to third person to first, when Return to Highschool was a thing I adopted, and when my writing schedule was even more fucked than today’s. From Goblin Assassin, to its distant finale, a Dragon’s Flash, Sira’s whole saga, Prinzessin, and now. I learned a lot since 2022. It’s been quite the ride.

But I’m afraid this might be one of the last. I’ll be busy in the later months of this year, and probably next year, too. Drawquests of this kind, especially with the type of writing and schedule I prefer (2-3 days / 3-4 full post’s worth of writing) most likely won’t be possible anymore; Prinzessin Quest and Unwanted Children will not see any sequels. Sorry.

After Loveless Gal finishes, I’ve got one more quest left in mind to wrap this whole thing up. One last quest of this nature. An encapsulation of everything I wrote, all the plotlines and stories I wanted to tell.

Here’s a teaser of it. With any luck it’ll be up in a couple months.

The writing of Loveless Gal’s next update currently WIP.

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WIP writing.

>>5968142
Waiting warmly

>>5968519
Likewise!

Good news:
I’ll have a lot more freetime now in April
Bad news:
Loveless Gal’s storyline will most likely spill over to a 3rd thread
And although I do have guidelines and a rough estimate on the important checkpoints of the quest, writing the dialogue naturally to get there is hard…

>>5970361
A third thread doesn't sound like bad news to me, desu.

>>5970361
>Bad news:
>Loveless Gal’s storyline will most likely spill over to a 3rd thread

That's bad news?

>>5970361
but those are both good news

>>5970370
>>5970374
>>5970429
It will take a while to get there.

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And speaking of something taking way longer than it really should, here’s some art of the upcoming update.

I never did get to introduce the tattoo artist in proper. That will change very soon.

>>5971038
Cool vest and hat!

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Second WIP of writing. Arm’s feeling a bit sore tonight. I’ll have to continue tomorrow.

>[FOLLOW MY MIND]

To stop dragging other people’s pricks through the dirt - that is what she asked of me in return on that night. To bring about more difficulty to her or anyone else because I did not want to answer her in earnest is unbecoming of that — but I can not arm a person of her character with knowledge, either. Not without taking the most indirect course to do it.

> “I can only advance the opinions of our legal department, ma’am. If you have any more inquiries, our lounge of the first floor have broadsheets pertaining to law.”

My disinterested tone, weary stare (the which, not in the slightest feigned) and the wave of footsteps seeping through the walls all point to a particular statement - to fuck off, cunt. And she did, giving a sigh and murmuring a few parting words as she went, which I shunned, as I would poison.

Talk of our appointment proved far more proficient in rotting the mind, anyway. The thought of seeing her in the evening again - ha, my heart could barely take it.

… we also talked of matters more relevant to today’s evening.

“The fairs, I suspect, meant the temples’ - there are a handful of them on the streets above Screwpine. It would make sense to go through there, then.” Airin roughly deduces the location of where the deal will take place; somewhere in the underdeveloped parts of the city’s upper west quadrant.

“It must have been vestigial for ten, almost twenty years, by now? Last I saw of it was a little over five, six months ago…” She elaborated further on the Screwpine Canal Road; an obsolete district, whose foot traffic are mainly people passing through to get to somewhere else which has more in offering. Only a few old grocers and their kids are around. For what it is worth, crime is not particularly high there; deaths are far more common from drowning or careless handling of fireworks during festivities.

“How far away are the peace officers, should - difficulty - were to occur?” Airin furrowed her brows for a moment while contemplating my question; she does not seem to know precisely, either.

“That really depends; at sundown, in Screwpine’s center, twenty, or twenty-five minutes. At the edges, fifteen, perhaps less.”

It did not look particularly good for us. According to Airin, one consolation (if such could be called) is the carry of heavier arms is more permissible in the nightly hours; bucklers and basket-hilt daggers would not mark me as someone quarrelsome. But I - really - don’t wish to go that road. Half a decade is a long time. The court may not be so just, so expedient, and the people… would they even hear out my side, before their judgment is made? Maeg is not about Oceankeep often. And I doubt my family would be so willing to extend their hand now. How far will I need to run? How far could--

“Kommgal.” Once more, her calluses-filled hand grasped my wrist - stopping me from being lost in thought.

“You don’t - need - to go this far on someone else’s behalf.”

( https://youtu.be/wOEld9xzphY?si=GoeMEgptQbzdYk1p )

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Words at first did not come to me. My only recourse was to cling tighter to her hand. It was as if I had Maeg beside me at that very moment. I…

“It is quite all right — I don’t wish to see you in difficulty either.”
“Let us- err- look, we could talk further with Aeg once we get back. Get things straight, and see what goes from there, yeah?” Airin stumbles her words as she noticed a shimmer in my eyes.

“Yeah- yeah. Sure. I- that too would be good.” I murmured out in agreement as I did my damndest to keep tears from being even more apparent, although I doubt she would be the sort to care.

>supper together, tomorrow.

After some moments, we quietly moved away from the topic, and onto that of our own, instead. And I was once again nervy - all be it for different reasons.

The agency had grown even more busy by time we returned - the lounge was packed full of men, and lined with giants; the conditions more similar to a jar of potted fish as opposed to a withdrawing chamber.

Shit. There is way too many ears. I’ll have to see him in the afternoon, then.

“Well~”
“Be seeing you at three, mister Kommgal.” Following a tap on my arm, Airin breathily gives her parting words.

“yes ma’am!--”

( https://youtu.be/EOjx3k08WVw?si=-LE53zF6-3hGjV4F )

In haste, the reply - and the enthusiasm in which - I gave was not at all my intention. Sweat clings to my back and forehead in an instant. Ugh. If only I could sink into the stairways right now.

“Pft-”
“Mhm.” Airin gives a nod and takes her leave for good. She does a most poor attempt of suppressing her laughter.

(Damn it all.)

( … )

Mercifully, the clients which followed that crank proved far more agreeable and judicious in the use of my time, if only due to the sheer fatigue of waiting around. Whatever the case may be, I welcome it in full; I’d rather two dozen of those folks than defend a single complaint which reached my superiors’ ears - I’m not a tyro anymore. Amnesties come rare, even with documents on my side. And that internal auditor is a whole ‘nother difficulty.

Novice Auditor Kommgal Fanart drawn by Twitter Artist: dodo_sketch

Drums - thrice rung - signals the passing of the afternoon’s hours, and the beginning of a brief respite for the agency fellows; that of thirty minutes.

Joining us at a coffee vendor nearby Nagel Company’s offices is - of course a Aeg, but Thongla as well. It’s quite the occasion to see him outside the workshop; Aeg must’ve told him about our doings.

An auditor.
A legal advisor.
A slavecatcher.
And a tattoo artist.

The departments, all wrapped up in one place. This ought to be wondrous.

(That, it was.)

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“Y’know, we - all - could go through there. Those other kids will most probably bow out — that is all very fine. We talk to the kid, get your poster back, and go from there. The way I see it, “Galpet” and that blond-hair kid do not seem so fast with those friends; we… give them some rewards, they’ll lead us to the three.” Thon gives his piece while leisurely keeping his back to the waning sunlight.

“I- I really don’t wish to chance that. Equally as likely is those kids backing up on us after we talked to him. Or on him. Or on those two. I’d rather have it settled tonight — I’ll see them. You all could keep watch and give me a sign.” Aeg gives his own (legally-adjacent) proposal.

While Airin somewhat agrees with Thon’s proposal - the plausible deniability aspect of it, in particular - having decent standing, in both court and in terms of personal safety compared to waylaying them, she adds another point. “Those other kids, they don’t seem to be the sort to frequent the temples - but that yellow-haired kid and Galpet’s colleague - we could ask around, find a few things about them.” And stalk them, if need be, although that part is left unsaid.

Mhm. The plays we could make…

Thon’s idea does keep me - and pretty much all of us - from legal difficulty, if we are smart about it. We just need to be more watchful for the next few weeks. We just need to keep our guard up while quietly settling the entire matter out of court, ideally.

Aeg’s idea would be the most immediate, and the yield, the greatest. Everyone else would be in relative safety while Aeg gets what he wants. I’m sure he can walk the same road that low company does - and go much further than them. He should be all right.

Of course, we could just not play that game in the first place. Instead of acting directly, we could - as Airin suggests - continue to gather information from elsewhere. As for the robbery itself, an anonymous tip to the peace officers should void their plan. If we can get more information on Galpet’s friend and the yellow-haired kid, we’ll get to those three eventually.

We decided to go with…

>Thon’s proposal - All four of us take a walk through Screwpine Canal Road

>Aeg’s proposal - Aeg will waylay the kids, everyone else act as lookouts

>Airin’s proposal - Find out more about those kids through the temples’ inhabitants

Addendums / adjustments write-in to these plans are welcome.

As for I myself, to prepare for tonight’s activities, will make use of…

>dagger
An old dagger of mine with straight quillons and a side-ring.

The length is a little under two spans - I could conceal it within my breeches. The blade is barely wider than my finger; it is not the best at the cut, but it can very much push aside thrusts and deliver its own. Not the finest weapon out there, but in absence of my sword (as I need to check it when I enter a temple) it will do finely.

( I knew keeping it in this compartment would come in handy one day. )

>rose perfume
A glass jar containing various types of dried flowers, mostly roses.

The scent is a pleasant one. Having its fragrance would help my appearance more comely - in combination with kind words and being well-dressed, it would help greatly if I need to talk to someone or obscure myself as simply another person going about their day without any ill-intentions.

( Wow. Airin sure has plenty of these. )

>>5973013
>Thon’s proposal - All four of us take a walk through Screwpine Canal Road
>>5973014
>dagger

>>5973013
>Airin’s proposal - Find out more about those kids through the temples’ inhabitants

>rose perfume

Plan maximum safety from vagina skin

>>5973013
>Airin’s proposal - Find out more about those kids through the temples’ inhabitants

>>5973014
>dagger

—Trivia: Looking through history can be… interesting. —

I have recently picked up a translated version of William Sitwell’s “The Restaurant: A History of Eating Out” - a book which details the history of restaurants in different time periods, in little snippets, akin to an anthology series.

The book itself is… fine. William Sitwell does cite historical accounts and sources to support his writing, but he seems incapable of shutting the fuck up and let the facts speak for themselves -- no, he insists on adding flowery language and irrelevant embellishments; a good example is the beginning of the book, which is set in AD 79, rather than straightway giving information, the first few pages revolve around a day in Pompeli right before the volcano erupts (the which, not relevant to food) told through civilian’s POV of it, and the lamentation of the event. The early chapters follow this trend.

If you want a snippet of history, relating to food in particular, Youtube Channels such as Townsends, Modern History TV and Tasting History do a far more proficient job at storytelling and succinct delivery of information. Scholagladiatoria’s historical account reads are also good, although they are usually combat-related.

I primarily based - and extrapolated - much of my setting from them; examples are the cookshops and the methods of processing chocolate drink in Loveless Gal, and the preparation of arme ritter (french toast) in Prinzessin Quest.

Nevertheless, I found the book to be occasionally entertaining when the author has decided against sucking his own cock. The following passage is describing coffeehouses of the 17th century - the forebears of modern cafe and coffeeshops.

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“Their commonly found drink is coffee - a black colored beverage, made from a grain-like bean called “Coaua” which is milled and boiled in water. They drink it as hot as they could possibly withstand it - which they believed to be good for the body. This is usually done after only eating uncooked food, vegetables, and meats.”

This type of drink is not mysterious for a poet such as Sir George Sandy, who has had a taste of it in Turkey, in 1610. He noted the practice of not drinking alcohol in this country was contrary to that of England. “Although they do not have alehouses at all, there is an abundance of coffeehouses - which has similarities to alehouses.” He wrote, in a cutesy book called Sandy Travels “They sat and gossip there, all day long, sipping on a drink called coffee (which is the name of the berry used in the making of this drink) from small ceramic plates, as hot as they could withstand drinking it, whose color are as black as soot, and taste similar to such. He also noted they drink coffee to “Assist… in digestion and invigoration.” However, it seemed this quality of relaxing the stomach and mind might not prove adequate to attract customers, and so, the owner of the coffeehouse Sandy visited had devised a ploy they believed would surely attract the local men “Many of the coffeehouse owners would have good-looking boys to act as lure.”

TLDR; before maid cafes were a thing, there were shota cafes.

If only I had known this when writing Sira Can’t Run a Brothel. That, and 17th century Japan’s prostitution. Ah well.

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FYI:
I will be in the countryside this weekend, visiting relatives. Writing will most likely not be affected, although I don’t know about the art.

And here’s a sneak-peek at the update.

>>5975271
Huh. The Ottomon Empire was a wild place, huh? Weird. Seems pretty haram.

>>5975274
Have a good time, QM!

>>5975271
>“Many of the coffeehouse owners would have good-looking boys to act as lure.”
of course, you can't have the ottomans without say gex and young boys and I'm also reminded that the japs had it as well.
>>5975274
enjoy the trip, OP

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They were pretty cool.

Hello. Updating tomorrow. This thread should end after 2 or so more updates.

>>5977561
Thanks for the update!

>>5977561
waiting warmly

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>>5977579
>>5977809
Trying out a new artstyle…

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Good news - art is done
Bad news - writing and re-writing is taking a bit longer than expected…

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>Airin’s proposal

‘You don’t need to go this far on someone else’s behalf.’

As much as I dislike to hear it, she - is - correct. Everything I have done, from the very moment Aeg made mention of his hat and poster’s theft, was the result of my doing; I chose to make that deal with him. I chose to visit that teahouse. I chose to talk to the staff, talk to Airin, talk to all those people about the white-handed kid. I chose to trail and eavesdrop on those kids this morning.

… but none of it is an OBLIGATION of mine, and neither is confronting those kids. I’m not playing this game again. I bow out.

>dagger

There exists a practice: When entering the domain of others, and a house of worship - as sign of trust - you disarm yourself and remove headwear as to not shroud your appearance. Us, the freefolk of Sablestream, follow this - as do the Dawnfallfolk, and no doubt many other countries. Except low company. But if I am to catch them, I can’t be caught for a lack of fighting back - such a thought flashed across my mind as I tighten and loop the belt around the right thigh for the last time.

Finally getting some practice with arms was a welcome relief from all of today’s… everything. It took a good few minutes - finding the handiest position to carry, the method which could bring my weapon into action as speedily as possible - but I could say with confidence it would take one second or so. During the break, I also got some practice with the broadsword; wheeling it around was well for my fingers, having been bound to pen and paper for much of the day.

With the passing of the afternoon hours, the conditions of the lounge - once resembling potted fish - soon returned to a more spacious normality. While (technically speaking) work is supposed to conclude at five in the evening, the upcoming days’ workload made the talk with our superiors particularly long. By time I could leave, it was roughly five-thirty. Thirty more minutes before that yellow-haired kid would make that deal.

There never was any fear of missing the arrangement - given where the company was, it was a matter of walking straightly to the west of Oceankeep until--

“H- hgh.” Thon squints and gags once his nose picks up on the “aroma” - if such could be called - of the dilapidated roads which the temples sit on; Salted fish being grilled; Sausage shedding oil of a particularly dark shade; An excess of fish sauce; Frayed incense sticks and candles (whose age most probably surpasses all four of us combined) being burned; Soot and dust nesting in corners and edges, springing to life at the remotest misstep - it’s a quite the lot to get acquainted with. Apparently the murky waterways of Screwpine Canal Road is even worse.

“Here.” Immediately following Airin’s words is the sound of a metallic lid being popped open. She presents - a few inches away from his face - an oval-shaped box packed full of dried leaves. “Jasmine, and chrysanthemum and.. uh.. I don’t recall the other one.”

( … )

After a couple more minutes of walking about the district (and periodically taking a whiff of a thing not completely drenched in blackened oil) did we narrow down the possible locations.

“Hm. No. It’s either this one - or the log one.” Thon flicks his fingers as his sights go back and forth; on one end, at the fringes of the decay, is Old Timber temple - the larger of the bunch, perpetually crowded and loud due to plays scheduled in the nightly hours. Not much privacy for a scalper, either. And getting the mark to leave the district through Screwpine would be an obtuse course.

On the other end, fixed next to the murky rivers, is Cavern Maze temple; a courtyard house turned house of worship, one that is growing more vestigial each day; the excess of plant life around the area makes for quite an inconvenience to traverse, and the docks… excepting screwpine, I seriously doubt anything could live in it. The main reason to even visit is the series of bridges connecting it and the Screwpine Canal road: a short-cut to an existing short-cut seldom used. Doing a sale so close to Screwpine (and far from … outside factors) would lend the scalper a lot more leverage. Only difficulty would be whether the mark trusts him to such a degree.

Airin could have the matter of alerting law enforcement covered - perhaps in better words than any of us - but there’s still the issue of those two temples. We can’t be in two places at once; asking around in Old Timber and a few persons might know of the yellow-haired kid - but the remoteness of Cavern Maze could allow us to find information through… alternate ways. Those old-timers, the few who - do - hang around the place might have seen a few interesting things. Money can go a long way for boatmen and the elderly whose current stations don’t earn them much.

(Of course, taking on such risks - potentially putting myself in such a remote place - is not my obligation; I could always send Thon alone there, but being there myself could help with identification.)

I decide to visit…

>Old Timber - with Aeg
Thon going there alone is fine. He is not - at all - related to Aeg; the yellow-haired kid wouldn’t know of him. We just need to cover as much ground as possible in the temple.

>Cavern Maze - with Thon
Given how crowded the Old Timber is, Aeg would be relatively difficult to spot, and he could identify that kid on his own. Thon cannot - If I am there with him, I could parse out a more thorough picture.

>Cavern Maze - alone
I’ll be all right; I still have spare clothes with me if I do need to change, and I do not believe any of those kids have reason to suspect me as related to Aeg.

>>5979265
>Cavern Maze - alone
Destiny calls

>>5979265
>Cavern Maze - with Thon
Let's get to know this Thon fellow better.

>>5979265
>Cavern Maze - with Thon

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Current statistics about this thread…

>>5980986
zam, nice work OP. btw did you read anything to complement your writting along the years ?

>>5981019
Mainly historical accounts and writing, usually from Youtube.

For Loveless Gal in particular, I took a lot from Old West recollections for word choice and phrases

“Wyatt Earp Gunfighting Advice”*
[I do not wish, on the wane, I can only support the opinion advanced by…]

*this one is… interesting. It comes from the Wyatt Earp Frontier Marshal book. Lake did meet with Wyatt Earp when he wrote the book, but by the time it was published, Wyatt was dead. Most historians believe most was fictional.

“An Interview with Doc Holliday”
[deviated from the path of rectitude]

“Bat Masterson Describes: "Doc" Holliday in Dodge City (Recollections)”
[quarrel, difficulty, fast friends, straightway, liked __ any too well]

Airin’s “the which…”
Gal’s “breed loathsomeness”

Are taken from Giacomo Di Grassi’s His Arte of True Defence (translated from Italian to English in 1594)

“Forasmuch, as the Bill and Holberd, haue the selfe same offence and defence, and be of one length: I thought it not good to make two Treatises thereof, because I should be forced to repeat the selfe same thing in both, the which, being superfluous, would breed loathsomenes….”

Scholagladiatoria “Matt Easton” Youtube Channel sometimes read from historical accounts, and these ones in particular I took as reference for sentence structure.

“James Bowie and his Bowie Knife!”

“Rapier: MURDER WEAPONS rather than duellist swords?”
This one is actually a court document, and the way it is written is quite fascinating. You can find it here https://www.british-history.ac.uk/middx-county-records/vol4/pp24-33

26 Feb 1671

“And that the said Robert Constable slew and murdered the same Peter Varnall, by giving him with a rapier a wound on the right side of his head, of which wound he then and there instantly died…”

You might recognize some of the names in Prinzessin in here, too. [Fennec, Deboers family]

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Final update, soon.

To be soft in the bind, to be hard in the bind, or to disengage completely, well…

>>5981452
I assume you already archived this one, then ?

>>5981452
Cute art!

Fever. Can’t update today.

>>5982697
Eesh, sorry to hear. Get well soon!

>>5982697
sheesh, waiting for you to get better OP. Heal tight

>>5982703
>>5982710
Thanks. Fever has subsided now but I still have a mild headache. Writing WIP.

As for the third thread, I’ve got a pretty good idea of it. Got all the important events in mind - only problem is linking them together smoothly. I am liking the current tone of Loveless Gal so far;

>>5964084
>>5973010
>>5964082

Grim, melancholic, with a little comedy sprinkled in.

>>5984158
heal good, OP

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WIP.

>>5985027
looking forward for it

Feeling a lot better now. Should be able to update on Thursday.

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You’ve seen him before.

>>5986596
I'm quite enjoying the evolving art style!

>Cavern Maze — with Thon

Aeg can handle himself; his role is that of an observer, not a pursuer - and with all the folk at the temple, I doubt that would be possible (or necessary).

Thon’s role is far more the case; sifting through truth and hearsay would be much easier if I was with him, and far safer, too; while the temple itself, and the area around it is somewhat populated, it has in abundance of - as Aeg puts it - ‘in between’.

“The place you go through to get from one location to another: that is where rape, robbery, or attacks will most likely take place. Most folks pass through such an area so regularly, they do not notice it entirely and let their guard down.”
“The stairway - as an example - has qualities which all contribute to an attack: it is remote enough the victim cannot summon help, occasionally populated that there - is - victims, and convenient enough he could withdraw from quickly.” Aeg made mention of it in one conversation pertaining to future careers.

Having someone capable of explaining - to the common folk - why seemingly innocent actions were a prelude to danger, and why the client was justified in doing as he did to defend himself goes a long way in exculpation: the station of expert witness or consultant can be financially rewarding, albeit one which do not so often present itself. I suppose I could see myself in such industry; the aftermath of a legal battle can be costly.

… but enough of that.

The coarse and dust-filled road gave way to one more enveloped by plantlife; the smell of driftweed and screwpine grew more apparent, more loathsome with each passing step; the blades of grass so great in breadth and length, it nearly swallowed whole Thon’s lower body; vegetation so avaricious that only through grasping firmly on our pokes do we prevent them from being separated from our belts.

“I need a mome-nt.” With the riverfront in sight, and the more overgrown sections passed, Thon squats down to regain his breath. I pop open and take another whiff of Airin’s tin of aromatics while getting a look at the compound.

The temple consists of two rows of platforms, each row consisting of three rooms, whose roofs are conjoined, and on the far end of each side are small huts with varying degrees of cover. As with any house built near rivers, the whole structure is supported by a series of stilts. Beyond the temple - and the uneven bushes which encircle it - are the piers, and a little further beyond them are several bridges to the Screwpine Canal Road; both of which are constructed out of lengthy wooden planks bound together by equally decayed strands. The river itself is covered in lungweeds - an aquatic plant with broad leaves and lavender leaves, only useful as pigfeed. With an entire regiment of those things around, little wonder the waters here are - this - murky.

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We began our search at the cellar, beneath the forest of stilts. There, aside from blemished statues and unevenly cut slabs of rocks, were a couple old fellows who dwell in the place as if it were a great hall. They had just finished their supper.

“No, I don’t know that sort, ‘afraid.”
“I think I saw a couple kids pass us on the regular every weekend afternoon and evening…”
“I didn’t seem ‘em on boats on any day.”

None were of particular help, even with lotus-crest coins as an incentive.

Climbing the stairs of the first row was not an easy thing, with how steep and narrow each step was, becoming as goats; using all four of our limbs - still - made for quite the difficulty. After a long few minutes, and a few more to look around, we found someone unoccupied; an monk stitching up clothes.

“I do not know of those fellows, but perhaps you can ask the woman upstairs. She comes here with some regularity, and might know of the persons you are looking for.” The giant advises us to check the uppermost floor. “Thank- thank you, father.” Still weary from the climb, Thon takes a few minutes of respite. I myself take the moment to walk around the first row’s rooms and its huts, eventually ending up at one storing water jars.

“Goodday, grandfather.” I give a nod to an elderly monk tending to his bowl - a giant, almost thrice my size, and perhaps my age, too.

“Goodday, son.”

“…”

Wait. Something feels off. I don’t believe giants are supposed to be that tall, and his brows… I believe monks are supposed to shave most of it off. And his feet--

“Planning to visit the beach soon, Kommgal?” With a chuckle, the messenger throws away his attempt at dissimulation.

Ah. Good. Him again.

“So, you’ve chosen to remain behind the canvas instead of straightway striking. Did you know you could have had a movement of conclusion earlier today?”

“I am aware. But I have no intention of hunting the tall timber again.” I scoff at his attempt of mockery; getting to Oceankeep was a difficulty - I don’t wish to repeat that whole process.

“Oh no, I meant no chafing.”
“But I’m afraid I can’t say the same for Amournnara. There shall come a time - very soon - when such chafing can cut so deeply, it may even reach the bones. What will you do then, I wonder.”

Quite the dispensary of wisdom, I might admit. You’ve surpassed yourself in obtuseness with this one.

“To someone unready, it may be deadly.”

… perhaps I can’t withstand more slander. Not so long ago my wrist was repeatedly opened up. Not so long ago my mailbox were stacked full of death threats, falsehoods printed across every broadsheets in town, and I, cast out from polite company.

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And not so long ago, I was still in that elevator.

“Sounds most frightful.”
“Thanks.”

>Thus concludes LOVELESS GAL AND THOSE DAMNED KIDS
>LOVELESS GAL IN A BIND will be releasing soon!
Thank you all for playing.

>>5986731
Thanks for running!

What is the origin of this phrase "hunting the tall timber"?

>>5986749
I think it's an American English idiom for making a quick getaway, such as into a dense forest.

>>5986731
Spooky/ominous ending. Thank you for running!

>>5986731
thanks for running OP. remember to archive it.

>>5986749
>>5986786
Yeah, I borrowed the wording from one of Bat Masterson’s writings.

Archived.

Well, since we reached the end of the thread, I might as well do this again. It’s going to be a some time before I could post the third thread.

FEEDBACK:
>What do you think of the description of places and environments? Too long? Too short? Not descriptive enough?
>On the characters, which of them would you like to see more of? Which one do you currently like the most?
>Were there any part of the writing that was difficult to understand or were unclear?
>What is currently your favorite character in Loveless Gal?

If you’ve got any other questions regarding any matter, or anything you need further elaboration, you can ask it here.

>>5986918
>What do you think of the description of places and environments? Too long? Too short? Not descriptive enough?
I found them evocative, especially of the grease smoke and screwpine-addled alleys.

>On the characters, which of them would you like to see more of? Which one do you currently like the most?
Thon. I'd like to learn more about him, and his dynamic with Gal.

>Were there any part of the writing that was difficult to understand or were unclear?
Not especially, no.

>What is currently your favorite character in Loveless Gal?
Tie between Aeg and Airin, though goblin girls are my weakness.

>>5986918
>What do you think of the description of places and environments? Too long? Too short? Not descriptive enough?
they're good and precise enough

>On the characters, which of them would you like to see more of? Which one do you currently like the most?
the tattoo guy.

>Were there any part of the writing that was difficult to understand or were unclear?
not really

>What is currently your favorite character in Loveless Gal?
tied between Airin and Gal