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File: Silver_Knight_Quest_I.png (958 KB, 1080x1080)
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In this world silver is a cursed colour: the colour of the Adversary. It’s also the colour of your hair. But cursed or not, you are Argia Candente, and you will make Master proud, earn your glory and help your family in your quest to become a true Knight of Ansàrra.

# # # # # #

The horned woman stepped into the huge hall, carved inside the dead tree. She walked from one end to another of the hall, checking on the shelves upon shelves, each of them holding a glowing sphere.

“Hmm, what to do, what to do,” she muttered to herself, rubbing her black horns with her fingertips. Her crimson eyes jotted between the spheres. “I was going to take half a day for myself, and here I am wondering whose story I would like to relive… I should have asked Helias for help.” She shrugged, reaching instinctively for the closest one. She had never been a creature of impulse, but the past six hundred years had taught her a little chaos went a long way.[/I]

The woman picked up the sphere and peeked through it. “The fall of the Purpura bloodline. Hm.” She pursed her lips, and put it back on the shelves, her slender pale hand reaching for the next one. “White Knight Bradiamante…” she smiled this time. She had always been fond of the steadfast girl. But this kind of tale did not really scratch the itch she needed — unless… perhaps another Knight?

She allowed herself a grin as she crossed a whole section of the hall and picked up a certain soul sphere — most of the others swirled with colours, but this one glistened like the purest mercury.

“Ah, yes,” the woman’s vermillion gaze looked fondly at this specific soul. “Argia Candente, the Silver Knight.” She chuckled and pulled the sphere close to her mouth. “And to think I did not even play such a large part in this. For all the good it did to her.”[/I]She parted her lips and bit deep into the soul sphere.
>>
You’d rather be anything but here.

When Master honoured you by choosing you as his new disciple, four years ago, you had assumed that you would earn your title as a Knight of Ansàrra by staying by his side, learning and growing stronger by tempering your strength and your faith.
Always a bit of a naive optimist.

“Candènte!” Shouts the voice of the martial chaplain a few feet ahead, turning to look at your through his metal helm. “Keep up with the group!”

“At once, Sir,” you reply in a sigh, which turns into a ribbon of white steam just past your lips and you pull on the horse’s reins, its metal hooves squelching on the muddy road until you are riding just behind the carriage. The pitter-patter of this freezing rain on your brigandine is going to turn you crazy. At any rate, is not going to help you be in the right mindset for the battle ahead; you are not overly worried, but this bout of freezing rain is not helping, and what’s worse you are in the middle of the rugged hills behind the Holy Land… it is unfamiliar and treacherous terrain.
At least Master gifted you with a nice rain cape before leaving you to your year of so-called “specialised training”. You pull it a little tighter around your head, making sure to tuck in and hide every silvery lock of your hair.

Just a few more months and you can go back to Master.

The rider in front of you, guarding the top right corner of the carriage, turns to toss you a sneer over her fine protective clothes and ornate armour.

“Please don’t be so hard on her, Sir,” she coos in a falsely-sweet voice over the rain. “She was probably just daydreaming again.”

You grip on the horse’s reins just a little tighter.
Still, the martial chaplain ignores her goad, and she drops it.

You sigh through your nostrils, trying to focus on the task ahead, clearing your mind. Bit by bit, your annoyance subsides, even the drizzle feels less maddening.
Training is training. At least in this, you do agree with Master.

You'd better focus on what awaits you.

>an encounter with a band of Ubaiidi lizardmen who have been assaulting refugees to the Holy Land. Master taught you their ilk rarely travels so far from the Terre di Confino, and you wonder how you will fare against this specific kind of beastly folk. Especially considered how they usually keep to themselves.

>investigate a sacrificial well someone erected in this part of the forest. The antsy mood in your manipolo might be a little more justified if you are about to face cultists of the Seven Sisters. You raise a hand to brush against your votive cameo of Saint Bragia Lacresta, asking her for strength in facing this challenge.

>eradicate the remnants of a gang of smugglers who had the gall of attempting to do business in the Holy Land. Given your past history with merchants and swindlers, this might make this training exercise just a little bit more interesting… and personal.
>>
>>6012274
>>investigate a sacrificial well someone erected in this part of the forest. The antsy mood in your manipolo might be a little more justified if you are about to face cultists of the Seven Sisters. You raise a hand to brush against your votive cameo of Saint Bragia Lacresta, asking her for strength in facing this challenge.
>>
>>6012274
>Investigate a sacrificial well someone erected in this part of the forest.
>>
>>6012274
>investigate a sacrificial well someone erected in this part of the forest. The antsy mood in your manipolo might be a little more justified if you are about to face cultists of the Seven Sisters. You raise a hand to brush against your votive cameo of Saint Bragia Lacresta, asking her for strength in facing this challenge.
>>
>>6012274
>an encounter with a band of Ubaiidi lizardmen who have been assaulting refugees to the Holy Land. Master taught you their ilk rarely travels so far from the Terre di Confino, and you wonder how you will fare against this specific kind of beastly folk. Especially considered how they usually keep to themselves.
>>
>>6012274
>investigate a sacrificial well someone erected in this part of the forest. The antsy mood in your manipolo might be a little more justified if you are about to face cultists of the Seven Sisters. You raise a hand to brush against your votive cameo of Saint Bragia Lacresta, asking her for strength in facing this challenge.
>>
>>6012274
>>investigate a sacrificial well someone erected in this part of the forest. The antsy mood in your manipolo might be a little more justified if you are about to face cultists of the Seven Sisters. You raise a hand to brush against your votive cameo of Saint Bragia Lacresta, asking her for strength in facing this challenge.
>>
>>6012274
>Investigate a sacrificial well someone erected in this part of the forest.
>>
>>6012282
>>6012358
>>6012449
>>6012516
>>6012564
>>6012566

>investigate the sacrificial well

>>6012508

>encounter with lizardmen

it's not even a contest. I'll start writing in two hours, just in case someone else wants to add a vote or has any question.

also, this is my first Quest, so thanks a lot for participating!
>>
>>6012274

The relief of the blessed cameo seems to calm your nerves a little bit. You should remember that it is not your own strength that matters, but that of Ansàrra. You are not alone in this endeavour.

And yet — the thought of facing thralls of the Seven Sisters makes you feel a knot at the base of your stomach. During your training with Master you have faced mindless beasts and corrupted highwaymen. The two of you have carried out the justice of the Holy Land with nary a trouble.

But usually only fully-trained Knights are allowed to face anything like this.

Your eyes shift towards the carriage, with its pulled curtains, darkened glass, and its aloof occupant. A strange thought occurs to you: maybe it’s not four apprentice Knights escorting her, maybe it’s the other way around.

You grip on the reins and focus yourself on keeping pace with the carriage, as the rain seems to let up a little.

Then, the martial chaplain turns his horse to the right and starts to run a large circle around the carriage.

“Heed me and heed me well, ladies in wait!” He shouts as the droplets shower his metal armour. “Trouble awaits ahead! We shall take a moment for a hearty meal and a prayer.” He reaches close to you.

“I see you have stopped daydreaming, madama Candente. Keep your wits about you.”

“I hardly ever let them wander, Sir.” You reply with a sharp nod, then swiftly pull back your silver locks beneath your cape.

The chaplain does not grace you with an answer. He runs to share words with the other three, and when he reappears ahead of the carriage he’s aiming his sword at a spot further uphill. You can make out the shape of a large slab of rock peeking out into the dusk, like a raven’s beak scraping at the clouded sky.

“We shall take a quick break there”

“What if we wish to apply sacred oils and petition for a Sanction ere the fight, Sir?” Asks Salicera’s smooth voice from the spot to your left that’s hidden by the carriage. The chaplain hesitates at her question, then turns his head towards the carriage.

“I will have to ask when we arrive.”

Nobody else speaks as you follow the road towards the slab of rock.

Your right hand moves to reach for your assigned weapon, seeking comfort. Master trained you with many different ones, but after seven months you can feel a little bit of kinship with it. Your hand coils around…

>the pommel of a battle axe. Master has always praised your heavy strikes, piercing armour and putting the fear of Ansàrra into the hearts of heathens.

>the hilt of a longsword. Master taught you how to be graceful and quick on your feet, dance around your target as a swift steel hornet, and twice as vicious.

>the short metal shaft of a morningstar. You were a little surprised when they assigned you with the ancestral weapon of Saint Bragia. Perhaps it is a good omen, and it makes you feel like you are on the right path.
>>
>>6012950
>>the hilt of a longsword. Master taught you how to be graceful and quick on your feet, dance around your target as a swift steel hornet, and twice as vicious
>>
>>6012950
>the pommel of a battle axe. Master has always praised your heavy strikes, piercing armour and putting the fear of Ansàrra into the hearts of heathens.
>>
>>6012950
>the pommel of a battle axe. Master has always praised your heavy strikes, piercing armour and putting the fear of Ansàrra into the hearts of heathens.
>>
>>6012950
>>the hilt of a longsword. Master taught you how to be graceful and quick on your feet, dance around your target as a swift steel hornet, and twice as vicious.
>>
>>6012960
>>6013164

>longsword

>>6012976
>>6013063

>axe

And here I wanted to post a new update shortly. I'll give it one hour to break the tie, otherwise I'll roll. Help a girl choose her weapon, will you?
>>
>>6012950
>the pommel of a battle axe. Master has always praised your heavy strikes, piercing armour and putting the fear of Ansàrra into the hearts of heathens.
Axe girl
>>
>>6013215
>axe it is

based. writing!

captcha: 0T02HP let's hope Argia has a couple more than 2...
>>
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>>6012950
Master sat next to you, laying down in the tall golden grass while you panted and dried sweat off your neck. You could immediately spot the mirth in his grey eyes. Uh oh. This did not bode well. When he was amused, you either just did very well in your training or…

“A question, my disciple. At this point of your training, which one do you believe to be a Knight’s proper weapon?”

This sounded a trick question. The last time he asked something like that you ended up hanging from a tree until dusk. You would better think about this. Immediately, your eyes shifted to his own weapon, resting against a tree. The sheer-black poleaxe glinted in the golden afternoon light, the shaft and blade both carved in the finest blindglass you had ever seen… not that you ever had the chance to gaze upon many a Kiengir relic. Master’s smirk sharpened a little as he caught you.

“I’m aware that is a special case, Master,” you quickly added. Master was the bearer of a hallowed relic, so choosing what at first seemed the right answer right away would probably have her do sit-ups until her arms collapsed. No, it couldn’t be the poleaxe. The halberd, then? Or… “I would say the sword, maybe, but… it depends?”

He gave you a long look, waiting for you to continue. Feeling your mouth going dry, you added: “W-Whatever Ansàrra decides?” You tried, wincing. Your legs already ached from the morning’s training and you truly were not looking forward to more maddening work-outs. It had already been one year since Master had taken you as his disciple, and by then you had long-since abandoned any idea that labouring in the family’s winery amounted to any sort of hard work… at least as far as Master’s training was concerned.

“That is the right answer, Argia, but it is also a philosopher’s one,” he chuckled, reaching forward to ruffle your silvery locks. Not for the first time, you tried to stifle a blush at how he did not seem to fear your cursed hair, nor hate it. “Indeed Ansàrra decides which weapon one of her Knights brings to the battlefield, as well as his luck with it. But you did mention the sword.” He shook his head and stood up, detaching something from behind his back with a metallic noise. “Swords are a nobleman’s right, a weapon of filigree and grace. But you will not find much filigree on the battlefield, or on the pursue of heathens. Hence…”

He threw something at you. True to one good year of training, even your sixteen-years old arms managed to catch it between your palms. Barely so. It was an axe, with a long metal shaft and a curved head. You gave it a few swings and immediately felt how differently it pulled on your arm and wrist, leaning forward to balance yourself. The weapon’s sharp beak shone under Ansàrra’s sun.

[Cont.]
>>
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>>6013265

“Those like us, an axe suits us better,” Master grinned. He took a step back and put on your training wooden shield. “Your first lesson is going to be quite easy, Argia. Let’s see if you can hit hard enough to let the axe bite the wood. And if you believe you don’t… just think about how your wineries are facing right now.”

You frowned at Master’s words. As you licked your lower lip, mind reeling back to the reason you were even here, a sliver of red-hot fury shivered from your heart onto your wrist. You raised the axe, once more marvelling at how it felt: both lighter than a sword, and yet heavier. Moodier. Quicker to anger. You gripped the handle with all your growing strength and began to square off against Master, your blue eyes trained against that wooden shield.

“Can I picture that son of a dog merchant’s face when I try to hit you, Master?” You asked.
“Argia, dearest,” Master chuckled, raising the three central fingers of his other hand in the universal goodwill sign of Ansàrra. “By now you ought to know you always will.”

# # # # # #

“Leave the horses,” comes the chaplain’s voice and you pull away from the reins and your memories alike. You let out a sigh of deep relief as you pass under the shadow of the rock and the rain stays behind. One by one, you all jump down your animals. You knead your sore shoulders and back, making the inner tetrarmide plaques of your brigandine crinkle like tinkling porcelain.
“There, there,” you also say gently rubbing the horse’s neck. It swats its tail, clearly grateful as well for the short rest ahead.

The other three ladies in wait all join together, happily ignoring you. It’s fine.
You are used to it, after all. It does not even gets a raise out of you anymore. You are perfectly fine here with your horse and your axe and—

“Here, boy,” the chaplain says as he pulls out an apple off his backpack, and your horse swiftly clops towards the treat, leaving you alone.

Still perfectly fine alone with your axe.

“Sir,” asks the tallest of the other ladies, her warm clear eyes glancing at the chaplain, as she lets down her long brown braid. “I asked before if we could take a somewhat longer break. Anyone else in favour?” Salicera asks the other two, who of course raise their hands at once. She then looks at you and you wince a little.

The vote has already been cast, but…

>you still raise your hand, if only to show you agree. There is battle ahead and you don’t feel like being the odd one out. At least not more than usual.

>you shrug. You are fine with taking a longer break, but if Salicera had actually valued your opinion she would have asked beforehand.

>you keep your hand at your side. You have been shunned by this group since you were forced to join it, and playing nice is not going to help.
>>
>>6013267
>you keep your hand at your side. You have been shunned by this group since you were forced to join it, and playing nice is not going to help.
Axes and grudges? We're practically a dwarf!
>>
>>6013267
>you shrug. You are fine with taking a longer break, but if Salicera had actually valued your opinion she would have asked beforehand.
>>
>>6013267
>>you shrug. You are fine with taking a longer break, but if Salicera had actually valued your opinion she would have asked beforehand.
>>
>>6013267
>you shrug. You are fine with taking a longer break, but if Salicera had actually valued your opinion she would have asked beforehand.
>>
>>6013294

good point anon, but we are also much taller. and hotter, if I may say so.

>>6013305
>>6013332
>>6013430

neutrality wins this round. Let's see where this brings us. Writing!
>>
>>6013267
You trade looks with Salicera for a while, but in the end you just shrug, as the inner plates of your brigandine crinkle. You have already been outvoted, so it’s pointless to sway one way or another. You are not going to become friends with them just because you agreed to Salicera’s suggestion… even if it may be a sound one.

The chaplain takes off his helmet as well, holding it under his arm. He’s an older man, with wrinkled skin and greying hair – anywhere else, he might be considered a fool for running to war at his age, but, as you have experienced yourself, faith often holds on tighter than bone.

“I will have to ask,” he explain, climbing into the carriage. As the creaking wooden door closes behind him, you start pacing back and forth to liven up your sore muscles. Horse riding might be essential to a Knight, but you have always preferred to stay on foot. As you do a couple slow lunges to stretch your legs and arms, the other three girls share looks and a few words.

You do not mean to eavesdrop, but the space is cramped enough between the carriage and the horses, so…

“… how bad is it?” Asks Rubida, the same black-haired girl who mocked you before. And many other times as well, as she whispers leaning towards Salicera. “I have never head or ladies in wait to be sent against Seven Sisters wretches. I cannot believe the chaplain would risk our safety like this!” She runs a hand through her long mane of shiny hair. If she knows a secret to let them keep their lustre even on the outback, she surely has never shared it with you.

You feel the sudden need to pass a hand through your own hair, if only to tuck any stray strand beneath the cape. You are still wearing it even if the rain has been confined outside. Of course you are. Unlike the other three, you have kept them short, a matter of practicality.

“You will stay with us, won’t you?” Asks Soralisa, a petite brunette with large green eyes, looking up at Salicera. She fidgets, her hands almost reaching for the bow on her back. “I don’t like this. It’s almost night. Why are we going to face t-these heathens at night?”

You look up as you walk back and forth, peeking at the gloomy sky. Not only it’s raining, the dusk has definitely settled and in less than one hour twilight will put the whole sky in its black bag. You have to admit both Soralisa and Rubida’s words do make sense. Why are you investigating at night?

“The cloud cover should last enough,” says the chaplain coming out of the carriage. “That is what she believes. You four have time to petition for Sanctions, but no using oils. You don’t have time to take off your armours anyway.”

Oh. So that’s why you are all out in the rain.

You wonder for how long the clouds will hide the night sky, though...

[cont.]
>>
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>>6013839
In a way, you are a bit relieved, you think as you crouch on the floor, drawing a large circle with your piece of white chalk. Thankfully the ground is dry enough. Begetting Ansàrra’s boons before the fight is definitely good thinking.

And yet, petitioning for a Sanction without using any sacred oil is not going to allow you to ask for anything but very basic protection, or…

“We should focus on a strategy,” you mumble, looking at the other three trainees, all of them already sitting inside their own circles.

They all turn towards you, so quickly you flinch. Soralisa is the first one to lower her gaze, but Rubida looks at you with sufficiency, and Salicera seems to ponder your words.

“I mean –” you continue, trying to put enough strength in your words, “I am the vanguard. Salicera is always at the centre, and you two usually strike from afar. We have a little time to think about our Sanctions, we should coordinate them as well.”

The martial chaplain grunts as he puts on his helmet again, walking out in the rain to check on the sky.

“Good thinking, Candente. You three, what do you say?”

You feel emboldened by his words. For the first time in weeks, it looks like your words can actually carry weight, no matter the cursed colour of your hair.

Rubida is the first to scoff. She coils an inky lock around her smooth finger and looks at you with sufficiency through her lidded eyes.

“Without oils we cannot ask for anything special, Candente. Or did you think I could help you with that?” She sneers.

You hold her gaze, but you can’t stop your cheeks from flushing a little. Using chalk and prayers is one thing, but a proper postulant would have to cover her body in words and symbols drawn using oils, and that often requires… support. Your treacherous mind flies to the last time you had to help Soralisa with hers, your fingers tracing hallowed signatures all over the smooth skin of her bare back.

“No, I think Argia’s request does make sense,” interjects Salicera, giving you the hint of a smile, and your flush gets just a tiny bit warmer. “We should at least try, even if we have limited tools. What Sanction would you petition for?” She tilts her head and her braid falls against her shoulder, waiting for you to speak.

You swiftly rake through your thoughts for something to say. It would make sense to petition for…

>Sanction of Daybreak Smite: ignites the edge of your weapon, greatly enhancing its striking power for a single hit. DC to cast: 36. DC to resist weariness: 60.

>Sanction of Sunwell Warding: will warn you if a creature comes within a certain distance from you. Very useful for exploring places you have never been before. Lasts for one hour. DC to cast: 32. DC to resist weariness: 48.

>Sanction of Searing Blood: upon being wounded, causes a spray of your blood to erupt in a searing burst of hallowed fire. DC to cast: 48. DC to resist weariness: automatically failed upon activation.
>>
>>6013841

# # # # # #

OOC:

Rolling mechanics: I

I will try to keep things simple, so I will try to limit rolls to d100 plus bonuses against a set DC, usually best of 3. Sometimes, especially when in direct combat, you may be instead asked to beat opposing rolls.

>dubs and trips and oh may Ansàrra lead my hand:

as a special rule and to keep things a little more interesting, you will also receive the following bonuses to rolls if the following happens when we roll:

>dubs: +6 to total
>trips: +18 to total
>quads: automatic critical success
>quints: as above, plus permanent minor bonus
>and more: Ansàrra personally headpats you

Also, I am resuming my dayjob, so from now on we may see updates once or twice per day, but there might be more if I see more activity.

For now, expect next update in about eight hours from now.

I should also be working on a pastebin...

What you have to do right now is just decide on which Sanction to pick… see you in a few hours!
>>
>>6013841
>>Sanction of Daybreak Smite: ignites the edge of your weapon, greatly enhancing its striking power for a single hit. DC to cast: 36. DC to resist weariness: 60.

>>6013842
What do you mean by quads and quints? Post numbers?
>>
>>6013841
>Sanction of Daybreak Smite: ignites the edge of your weapon, greatly enhancing its striking power for a single hit. DC to cast: 36. DC to resist weariness: 60.
>>
>>6013841
>Sanction of Daybreak Smite: ignites the edge of your weapon, greatly enhancing its striking power for a single hit. DC to cast: 36. DC to resist weariness: 60.
All of these only really benefit us as the vanguard melee fighter so I expect others to mock us no matter what we choose.
>>
>>6013984
>>6013888
>>6013879

Looks like we are shaping Argia into a little angry nuke of divine retribution I love it.

>>6013984

Salicera is only asking about which Sanction Argia would choose for herself. The other three are going to follow with different ones that follow their specific fighting style better, hence why they are sitting in their own circles. Maybe I should have expressed that more clearly.

But as for mocking us no matter what -- well maybe you are right about that, anon.

>>6013879

yes, your post number also gives you a bonus if you get dubs or trips (or more?) during a roll. for example, the anon right below you scored the quest's very first trips, so if it had been on a roll he would have gained a further +18 to his results.

I'll be waiting a few more hours if more votes appear, then update.
>>
>>6013841
>Sanction of Sunwell Warding: will warn you if a creature comes within a certain distance from you. Very useful for exploring places you have never been before. Lasts for one hour. DC to cast: 32. DC to resist weariness: 48.
seems I'm on the losing field, but I prefer this if the bonus strike only lasts for 1 hit. btw what is this weariness dc ?
>>6013879
>What do you mean by quads and quints? Post numbers?
newfag spoted
>>
>>6013841
>>Sanction of Sunwell Warding: will warn you if a creature comes within a certain distance from you. Very useful for exploring places you have never been before. Lasts for one hour. DC to cast: 32. DC to resist weariness: 48.
>>
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>>6014026
>>6014033

good suggestion, impressive rationale and forward thinking, but it seems the 'unga bunga here comes the SUN motherfucker' type of Sanction wins.

next update coming soon. get your dice all nice and lubed up anons, you are about to roll.
>>
>>6013841
>Sanction of Sunwell Warding: will warn you if a creature comes within a certain distance from you. Very useful for exploring places you have never been before. Lasts for one hour. DC to cast: 32. DC to resist weariness: 48.
>>
>>6013841
>Sanction of Daybreak Smite: ignites the edge of your weapon, greatly enhancing its striking power for a single hit. DC to cast: 36. DC to resist weariness: 60.
>>
>>6014267
I had just started writing. Rolling to break the tie.

roll+1d2

>1: Daybreak Smite
>2: Sunwell Warding
>>
>>6014275

dice+1d2

God I'm such a newfag
>>
>>6014277

dice+1d6

(1-3 vs 4-6)
>>
>>6014281
It goes in the options field.
>>
Rolled 3 (1d6)

(1-3 vs 4-6)
>>
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>>6014284
Daybreak Smite it is. I don't have to revise nothing.

>>6014282
thank you anon. I'll put on the dunce crown.

Now, update!
>>
>>6013841

You feel the scrutinising gaze of the three trainees upon you as you try to decide. You do not even know that many Sanctions.

“I think…” you start, thinking about your role in combat. Salicera will be there in the middle, balancing every one of you, while the other two will cover your backs. That leaves you as the piercing vanguard, the spear tip of your little ill-made group.

That also means that if you are going to face threats, a perception boon would come in handy. Perhaps the Sanction of Sunwell Warding… you open your mouth to say so but then you feel your hand still touching your axe’s pommel.

And as Salicera’s eyes follow your fingers’ movement, you decide that a warding is not exactly suited to your combat style. Master used to say that you were raised on bread and grudges for the past four years. Your middle finger finds the edge of your axe and you give a sudden nod.

Yes.

“Daybreak Smite for me,” you state. Rubida shrugs at that, but Salicera quirks an eyebrow. “I would be at the head of our formation. You and Soralisa would be better served by the Satin’s Step. Salicera… something to toughen you up. Oakenbone perhaps. It is a bit hard to petition for but…”

“… it might just give us the edge we need,” Salicera agrees. “I support it.” She raises her hand, and to your surprise, the other two swiftly follow her, even though they do not seem so pleased.

Starless Night, what is going on? This evening is getting more and more strange. First you are about to investigate possible cultist activity and now the best one among your group suddenly supports your ideas?
Even if, a little pat of you whispers in the back of your mind, stopping by was Salicera’s own suggestion, not yours.

There is something amiss, but you can’t exactly put your finger on it.
“I will allow it. Candente and the others, get to it,” the chaplain says, stretching his neck to peer onto the leaden sky. “Feels like the wind is turning.”

“Right on it, Sir,” Salicera says, sitting on her own circle. You all follow her example.

Taking on a deep breath, you take off your gloves and set your fingers against the votive cameo depicting Saint Bragia.

Spare a good word for me, you plead, then close your eyes, and begin to shut yourself to the world outside. The rain coming down to kiss the rock, the low whinnying and swaying of the horses, even the faint creaking of the carriage – little by little they all fade, leaving room to your inner world, the place where you can ask for some proper help.

You have never been great at this.

But as Master said time and time again… it was never completely up to you.

And that is perhaps a bit comforting.

[cont.]
>>
>>6014290

You are standing in your inside country, a place of winding roads and endless stairs folding upon each other, stark beneath a sky jewelled by strange broiling stars that vast little light.

A tower, to reach the heavens, you intone with the voice of your own thought, and against the blackness rises, bit by bit, like a beast waking up from uneasy slumber, a masonry spire, each brick smooth and dark, stark against the nothingness. You picture the door: a tall arch inviting you.

You step in. The inside is decorated with golden inscriptions, pooling crimson liquid at your feet, right as you step in the centre. The tower’s ceiling is wide open, a hole like a lidless eye praying onto the shuddering sky above.

A call, for the heavens to hear,, you follow, holding up your hand. Silence follows, and your heart quivers.

Ansàrra has so many petitioners. She is empathetic in spirit, and Her ears are keen, but what is your little voice among the thousands of other devotees begging Her for support or counsel?

A flame! A flame as merciless as the dawn. To bring the night to his knees,, you ask once again, your inner voice echoing inside the masonry walls of your tower, scattering above in echoes roiling upon themselves. You stretch your request like a child’s hand reaching for an apple.

All around your, droplets of crimson liquid bubble up like an inverse rainfall. A shower of vermillion that floats up and up, past your head, past the first and second tier of masonry, right at the hole that stays empty, looking onto the void th—
Child of the echoing Sea.

The blackness is shattered. A single ray of warm, golden light reaches you through the open ceiling. It coats you into its heat as the crimson droplets fall in a dance around you, coating your naked skin into an arabesque of words, of commands, of punishment and permission.

A flame you beseech. A flame as merciless as the dawn!

Says the bodiless voice, embedding itself onto your spirit, releasing you from your loneliness. It’s soothing and warm and it reminds you of running through the wineries with your brothers, your father playing the big bad wolf amidst the wines.

For a moment, you are eleven again, you can smell the intoxicating sweetness of the grapes, and you still love your hair.
Then the light presses on, the words of crimson etch into your skin, like roots finally finding their purchase into fertile soil.

To bring the night to his knees!, Her voice commands, and it’s time for you to… to show you have shoulders wide enough to carry Her graceful commandments.

>Best of 3: roll 1d100, add +10 (from the petitioning circle) and +6 (from the cameo of Saint Bragia), against a DC of 36. Remember to add corresponding bonuses if you get dubs or trips or more.

>A natural roll of 1 is a total failure. A natural roll of 100 is an incredible success.

You'll probably do better than your retardo QM anyway
>>
Rolled 72 + 16 (1d100 + 16)

>>6014288
np choom, in exchange for this little helping hand please find a comfortable pace and don't flake even if voter counts are low. Your quest's been a treat so far.
>>6014297
Rollan'
Also there isn't really a way to know if one of our posts will be dubs/trips lol.
>>
Rolled 72 + 16 (1d100 + 16)

>>6014297
>>
>>6014223
>good suggestion, impressive rationale and forward thinking, but it seems the 'unga bunga here comes the SUN motherfucker' type of Sanction wins.
I myself like to pick attack related shit first, but just 1 fucking attack ? c'mon now
>>6014284
why a 1d6 instead of a 1d2 ?
>>
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>>6014327
thanks a lot anon, your support is exceedingly appreciated.

also, I started this with the idea that the quest, as original content, would get maybe one or two votes, so I am happily surprised if I manage to get five or six. I'll try to keep a positive attitude.

>no way to know if one of our posts is dubs or trips

yeah, I should have worded that one better: I meant that I will be adding the results to the check when comparing rolls. Still... that tiny hope you get quads (or more) and manage total heathen death feels good, doesn't it?
>>
>>6014373

>first two rolls
>both are 72
>1% chance

we are already playing with forces beyond our comprehension, great

>1d6 and not 1d2

because I'm mucho retardo and I just learned how to roll dices and this very statement might be a tad optimistic yet
>>
Rolled 1 + 16 (1d100 + 16)

>>6014297
nat 100 incoming !
>>6014377
>because I'm mucho retardo and I just learned how to roll dices
i mean, that explains you not putting it in the options field, but not why why you changed it from a 1d2 (50/50 tie) to a 1d6 (kinda skews things up)
>>
>>6014380
off to a great start then. so the weariness thing will get us tired from the saction ? I assume with a nat 1 we pass out and fail the mission then.
>>
>>6014327
>>6014342
man I hope those double rolls have some effect
>>
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>>6014380

>taunting the dice gods

anon...

>1d2 to 1d6

because I farted my brain out so hard it painted the wall and I thought that I couldn't roll a 1d2 for whatever reason, so I switched to 1d6 (1 to 3 vs. 4 to 6). I don't get how it might have skewed things up? It's still 50/50

>>6014382

>fail the mission

not right now because it was a best of 3, so the other two rolls carry you. I want to keep things nice and easy for now, so a nat 1 would spell doom only if you got three of them in a row and come on... what are the odds of that? It's absolutely unheard of. No chance it ever happens.

that said, if you have to do one roll later on and you get a nat 1 then something really really bad might happen, maybe Salicera gives you a wedgie or worse

>weariness

it gives you a temporary malus to all checks.

the human body is not made to channel the energy of a God, so it naturally frays at the edges, like a live wire hit by a mighty thunderbolt. The weariness DC represents this, but I want to better show the mechanic in fieri during the quest, so consider this explanation only partial.
>>
>>6014391
>not right now because it was a best of 3, so the other two rolls carry you. I want to keep things nice and easy for now, so a nat 1 would spell doom only if you got three of them in a row and come on... what are the odds of that? It's absolutely unheard of. No chance it ever happens.
oh so that's how it works here. neat.
>>
>>6014327
>>6014342
>>6014380

88, 88 and 1 against DC 36. Passed with flying colours!

writing!
>>
>>6014297

The light and the crimson words press against your spiritflesh, carving themselves into your future reality, ready for using. For a moment, you feel like a searing whip has you caught in its grip, a barbed wheel that’s far too hot for your Mannish soul to withstand.

And then—

You blink and open your eyes, panting hard. Your right hand feels… warm. Your fingers are pulsating with an inner translucent light. You can see the profile of your bones through your flesh. It does not hurt. You passed the first part of the test.

It feels… warm. Like your hand fell asleep under a lovely summer sun.

It smells like soft earth and fresh echoing water and heady grapes.

Holding up your tingly hand, you reach for your axe with your left one and gently pass your finger on the metal edge. The light pours from your skin onto the metal, it glows faintly for a moment and then the axe absorbs it. By the time you have reached the other end of the edge, your hand is back to normal.

You really miss summer, for some reason.

You allow yourself a smile as you glance at the others. Sure, petitioning for this Sanction was relatively easy, and you had a lot of help, but you have been trained in the way of the Knight, not the way of the Sunseeker… so it’s a great success to you.

But the other three are all still meditating. Only the martial chaplain gives you a glance and a nod.

“Well done, Candente.”

“Thank you Sir, but—”

That’s when it hits you.

The faint echoes of that pleasant tingling turn into a simmering ache, and then a dizziness that claws at your throat, rising like bile to brush against your forehead.

“—but that might be a little too early to say…” you add, gritting your teeth and getting yourself ready for the consequences of channelling the Sun-Birther’s own essence through your imperfect, fragile, human body…

>Best of 3, like before: Roll 1d100, add +10 (from the petitioning circle) and +6 (from the cameo of Saint Bragia), and +2 (from the 88 you just got with the previous roll), against a DC of 60. Let's hope in some of those trips.
>>
Rolled 29 + 18 (1d100 + 18)

>>6014421
>>
Rolled 97 + 18 (1d100 + 18)

>>6014421
>>
Rolled 95 + 18 (1d100 + 18)

>>6014421
>>
>>6014437
>>6014440
>>6014482

47, 115, 113 vs DC 60 -- passed!

holy knickers, anon... shouldn't you save that kind of results for when you roll for your cup size? might happen, might not happen

writing!
>>
>>6014493
Now that you've brought it up? What is it currently?
>>
>>6014421
wait, why are we rolling this time ? if the weariness roll was that 1st one, what is this ?
>>
>>6014421

You have felt like this before. The word of Ansàrra is both prayer and punishment, and there has never been one time when your body could just accept it with no consequence.

“Hnnh—” you grunt as the ache grows, splintering into a thousand needles all piercing your skin, threatening to seep into your muscles and wearing them out, to grasp your heart and make it weaker—

“—ahhnf,” you gasp as the choking feeling leaves your body. You blink, once, twice: it’s gone.
It’s gone.

In fact, you feel better than ever. Like you just took one extra hour of sleep.

You stretch your muscles and slowly stand up, patting the axe at your side, which now holds a simmering note of divine retribution.

… and by eventide, we have done bright deeds,”, you whisper the tail end of the most common prayer, in thanks.
She really carried you by Her own hands.

“I suppose now it is done, madama Candente?” Asks the chaplain.

“Gracefully so, Sir.”

“Good. It has always been beyond me,” he adds with a rueful smile.

He walks back under the stone roof as the other three also open their eyes. For a moment there is a bright golden glow going off in the exposed parts of Salicera’s body, but it’s just an instant and she’s back to normal.

By contrast, Rubida chokes on her own spit and grasps at her head, her fingers running through her smooth black locks as the weariness slithers through her body. Her breathing turn heavier and heavier and she stumbles out of the circle, as if looking for purchase.

>You decide to be cavalier and hold out a hand to her. This can happen to the best Knights, and (even if a small ugly part of your soul laughs at Rubida’s troubles) you’d rather face the battle ahead knowing you four can put your differences aside. Plus, you can always rub it in later…

>You smirk looking at her making a fool of herself. Feeling cheeky, you even coil one of the silver strands of your hair around your finger, rubbing it in that the colour of your hair and its cursed namesake has nothing to do with the favour of Ansàrra.

>Write in (keep it SFW and try to make considerate suggestions).

# # # # # #

OOC

That's all for today. I will try to make a new update in, let's say... 14 hours from now. In the meantime, if you have lore questions or character question you can ask. I might answer if I can or mark it up for the future pastebin. Thanks for playing![i/]

>>6014496

it's a big secret for now but there might be a hint or two down the line.
>>
>>6014521
>You decide to be cavalier and hold out a hand to her. This can happen to the best Knights, and (even if a small ugly part of your soul laughs at Rubida’s troubles) you’d rather face the battle ahead knowing you four can put your differences aside. Plus, you can always rub it in later…
gotta keep your group in shape for the coming assault
>>
>>6014496
F cup, for respect.

>You decide to be cavalier and hold out a hand to her. This can happen to the best Knights, and (even if a small ugly part of your soul laughs at Rubida’s troubles) you’d rather face the battle ahead knowing you four can put your differences aside. Plus, you can always rub it in later…
They're showing us a modicum of deocrum, so let's reciprocate... For now. Don't spit on our good will, Rubi!
>>
>>6014521
Meant to tag >>6014584 as well.
>>
>>6014521
>>You smirk looking at her making a fool of herself. Feeling cheeky, you even coil one of the silver strands of your hair around your finger, rubbing it in that the colour of your hair and its cursed namesake has nothing to do with the favour of Ansàrra.
>>
>>6014521
>You decide to be cavalier and hold out a hand to her. This can happen to the best Knights, and (even if a small ugly part of your soul laughs at Rubida’s troubles) you’d rather face the battle ahead knowing you four can put your differences aside. Plus, you can always rub it in later…
>>
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>>6014528
>>6014584
>>6015071

vs

>>6014843

3 to 1 for taking the high road and rubbing in Rubida's face our moral superiority. At least so far.

I am keeping votes open for next four hours since this post's timestamp, then it's writing time.
>>
>>6014521
>>You decide to be cavalier and hold out a hand to her. This can happen to the best Knights, and (even if a small ugly part of your soul laughs at Rubida’s troubles) you’d rather face the battle ahead knowing you four can put your differences aside. Plus, you can always rub it in later…
>>
>>6014521
>You decide to be cavalier and hold out a hand to her. This can happen to the best Knights, and (even if a small ugly part of your soul laughs at Rubida’s troubles) you’d rather face the battle ahead knowing you four can put your differences aside. Plus, you can always rub it in later…
>>
>>6014519
You rolled first to check if you were able to cast the Sanction (the first DC) and then to resist the weariness effect that comes with it (the second DC).
>>
>>6014521

You hold out your hand and Rubida instinctively wraps her fingers around it. You hold her up, just in time. She would have stumbled on her face otherwise. Might have been amusing, but not the best thing for the confrontation ahead.

Still, you allow yourself a little smile – and perhaps the corner of your mouth is turning a little too sharply because Rubida blinks, flushes and frees her hand at once, standing on her two feet.

“It’s nothing, Candente,” she huffs through gritted teeth.

“I know how it is,” you offer.

“T-Then be upon your horse, posthaste,” she replies, turning her flushed face away from you. Her blushing ears are clearly visible even in the dusk. “I am doing fine. I was granted my Sanction, it was just – a little harsher in the taking than usual.”

“Hm,” you decide to agree and let it drop, turning away to pick your horse from where he’s sniffing about for more apples. Salicera joins Rubida to help her ride her horse, and you notice how the raven-haired lady does not shy away from Salicera’s help.

You did all you could. What just happened was still the most positive interaction you had with Rubida for the past seven months, so it is still a win in your book.
A bright deed is its own reward, chimes Master’s voice through your memories.
You are inclined to agree.

As you all find your horses, Rubida’s hands a bit less steady than before as she tries to hold back the effects of her sudden weariness, the carriage also begins to move. You pull your oiled cape tighter and ride out under the rain. As you shield your face with your gloved hand, you look up at the dark sky. The sun has gone down while you were in the cave, and all that remains from the embers of the day is a faint dull glow at the bottom, like the echo of a distant forest fire.

“At least the silver ring is still covered,” you murmur. You still hate riding out in the rain like this, but it does provide a modicum of shielding. While you are taken up in these thoughts, you let the horse go back to its usual place at the side of the carriage while it is pulled forward by its own pair of horses.

Wonder how long until we find the well. Admitted we can find a well in—

[cont.]
>>
>>6015348

“Madama Candente,” cuts a female voice through your reverie and you turn to see that Salicera left her spot by the carriage to ride besides you. Her horse is a little shorter than yours, so your eyes are level – your own blue eyes affixed onto her greyish-brown.

It’s the closest you have been since the last time she helped you with the sacred oils, and your stomach tighten. How come you did not feel her close in?

Salicera Fors adjusts her very light armour – little more than reinforced clothing, really, as she leans to the left to speak in a whisper:

“A word, if you may? I have noticed the ease you accepted that Sanction with, just now.”

You are far more used to Salicera bathing in the admiration of the other two ladies-in-wait, what does she want from you? It seems this night will be even more peculiar than you thought… or hoped for.

>Listen to Salicera’s words, openly. You can admit you are a bit eager – you may be fast, and strong, and trained in the way of the Knight, but Salicera has always showed a natural talent that far outstrips what you possess. Perhaps you are even a tiny bit jealous of her… just like you may be just a tiny bit jealous of Rubida’s smooth hair.

>Listen to Salicera, but keep your emotions veiled. She has proven time and time again to be the best among you four, but why would she want to be so close and personal just because you managed to do a good job with that Sanction?

>Remind Salicera it was one of the simplest Sanctions you could perform, and ask her why is she breaking formation for casual idle talk while out on a quest. There is… something about Salicera that always rubbed you the wrong way, and you recent success with the Sanction emboldens your inquisitive spirit.

>Write-in.
>>
>>6015351
>Listen to Salicera, but keep your emotions veiled. She has proven time and time again to be the best among you four, but why would she want to be so close and personal just because you managed to do a good job with that Sanction?
>>
>>6015351
>Listen to Salicera, but keep your emotions veiled. She has proven time and time again to be the best among you four, but why would she want to be so close and personal just because you managed to do a good job with that Sanction?
Saw too little of her to make a judgement yet.
>>
>>6015351
>Listen to Salicera, but keep your emotions veiled. She has proven time and time again to be the best among you four, but why would she want to be so close and personal just because you managed to do a good job with that Sanction?
>>
>>6015393
>>6015481
>>6015485

interesting consensus here. I will keep votes open for one more hour since this message's timestamp and then write the update.

at any rate, to all players: please remember to vote or write in even if your idea goes in a different direction than the crowd's, or if you are outvoted. I aim to include every vote in the update, colouring it differently according to your decisions (Argia's inner voice).

this is not politics: your voice does count.

see you in a bit!
>>
>>6015351
>Listen to Salicera’s words, openly. You can admit you are a bit eager – you may be fast, and strong, and trained in the way of the Knight, but Salicera has always showed a natural talent that far outstrips what you possess. Perhaps you are even a tiny bit jealous of her… just like you may be just a tiny bit jealous of Rubida’s smooth hair.
>>
>>6015351
>>6015481
I think I'll change to
>Listen to Salicera’s words, openly. You can admit you are a bit eager – you may be fast, and strong, and trained in the way of the Knight, but Salicera has always showed a natural talent that far outstrips what you possess. Perhaps you are even a tiny bit jealous of her… just like you may be just a tiny bit jealous of Rubida’s smooth hair.
as well, just to try out a more open approach. If Argia gets hurt, so be it, she will be more on guard next time.
>>
>>6015351
>Listen to Salicera, but keep your emotions veiled. She has proven time and time again to be the best among you four, but why would she want to be so close and personal just because you managed to do a good job with that Sanction?
Maybe she thinks we're cute? Just kidding, haha, unlessssss...
>>
>>6015351
>Listen to Salicera, but keep your emotions veiled. She has proven time and time again to be the best among you four, but why would she want to be so close and personal just because you managed to do a good job with that Sanction?
>>
>>6015393
>>6015485
>>6015508
>>6015535

>don't fangirl

>>6015502
>>6015495

>fangirl

so very light fangirling I guess? Writing!
>>
>>6015351

You take another good look at Salicera Fors, at her long braid falling on her shoulders, at her light clothes, at the longsword peeking out of her right side. Hers was the only name you knew before you were assigned to this training unit. The other two ladies-in-wait were just here for the benefits, but Salicera was the only other one who embraced a true career as a Knight of Ansàrra.
And she was, for all intents and purposes, better than you at it.

Not that you minded.

Not too much.

Sometimes you just did stumble upon people like those. Master had been another such case.
So again, you should not mind.

And now, the very same Salicera praised your work.

It feels like a part of your heart feels like you are finallyshowing these people that your cursed hair do not define you. Silver is an unlucky colour, but you can be more than that. You can be the Knight your Master expects you to be. The Knight your family needs you to be.

So, you steel yourself and rein in your enthusiasm, trying to keep your face a mask of serene neutrality.

If your ears stopped feeling so hot it would be better… and once again you feel warmly thankful to Master for gifting you this cape.

“What of it? Ansàrra decided to bestow Her grace upon me,” you say, your eyes leaving her face as suddenly the muddy road beneath you looks much more interesting. “It had happened before and it will hopefully happen again.”

“I suppose so. You seem closest to Her than all of us in a way,” she says tilting her head. She opens her mouth, closes it, then Salicera seems to catch on a different line of thought. “How do you feel about tonight’s raid?”

You frown.

“Are you calling it a raid already? I thought it was just an investigation.”

Salicera’s brown eyes shift towards the carriage and she lowers her voice even more, leaning to her left so that she’s almost speaking directly to your ear:

“They would not bring that to a simple investigation. They would not bring me. They would not bring… you. Don’t you agree, Madama Candente?”

[cont.]
>>
>>6015598

As a rule, you do not really like being close to people.

People bring crowds.

Crowds grow into throngs.

Throngs are mindless, heedless beasts.
Prowling howling trampling crushing.

Sometimes, someone gets hurt.

You shudder, shutting off bad memories as you withdraw from Salicera’s lips. She catches on your reaction and withdraws as well.

You are once again just a Knight trainee, under the rain, holding onto leather reins. Your horse wobbles beneath your legs and the rain bathes your lips in sudden kisses.

“Apologies,” Salicera mutters. “Perhaps I stepped into your inner garden. It was not my intention to annoy you.”

“N-No, perish the thought,” you reply. The last thing you need is even more sympathy and condescension. “I was just—” How can you put this? If only this was Rubida, you would feel no need to even justify yourself. “I was just taken aback, that’s all. I am a little antsy. Perhaps it is like you—like you said, Madama Fors.”

“That?” She asks tilting her head towards the carriage.

“Indeed.”

“Hopefully as a last measure,” she mutters, then raises her brown gaze towards the skies, and you follow her gesture.

Is it just you or is the rain starting to wane, bit by bit?

“Please excuse my strange words, Madama Candente,” Salicera says at last, turning to look at you with a sheepish smile.

She rubs her finger against her cheek, showing a tinge of embarrassment you have a hard time applying to your mental image of the same girl who turns herself into a whirlwind of steel and screams.

“I feel like we have shared the same company for a while, but we have merely begun to know each other. If I may use daring words once more…” she adds covering the side of her mouth with her hand, “… I do believe I may have more to share with our vanguard than we both believed? Let’s hope so. I suppose we shall see soon.”

She chuckles and then she does… that thing.

[cont.]
>>
>>6015600

She squeezes her right eye and clicks her tongue at the same time.
It’s like she got dust in her eye for just a moment and then it’s not there anymore.
You have never seen anyone do a gesture like that, and you have travelled hither and tither with Master, for three years.

Nobody makes that gesture.

You may have tried to try it out, in the safety and privacy of your room, but to be fair, you never got the appeal.

It’s just another little quirk of Madama Fors, you decide.

“We will follow your plan, then!” Salicera grins, raising a hand to bid you goodbye as she rides her horse towards her own place in the formation.

“It was your plan,” you remind her. “Wasn’t it? You suggested to stop and bid for Sanctions. I merely—”

“This is a night where we ought to share, Madama Candente. Merits and guilt alike. Glory, hopefully.”

“H-Hopefully,” you agree.
What else should you say?

You often feel like the world is this wide wide wide ballroom, and everyone is dancing to some music you can’t hear, and you would make a fool of yourself nevertheless.
Salicera just confounds you.

She got so close, and then she spoke so cryptically, and now she’s disappearing behind the carriage and you won’t see her anymore until you reach your destination.

She has left you all bothered and uncertain and strangely hopeful for things you cannot even imagine.

“… hold us by the hearth of the heavenly home, may we be spared the hail and the storm.” you whisper, reaching for your votive cameo once again. The presence of Saint Bragia’s relief just beneath your fingers, once again, comforts you.

It does so even as you keep riding your horse, even as you try to listen and check whether the rain truly is dying down… and if the clouds are about to part.

Then, bit by bit, the road grows steeper, so steep that you feel yourself arching your back for balance.

Your horses’s canter slows and become more erratic.

The wheels of the carriage squeak in the mud.

Truly, wonder what Salicera did mean before?

The couple of horses pulling on the carriage whinny under effort and you feel like the martial chaplain is shouting something ahead, or maybe not.

Why did she lean so close to your ear?

Why did she—

Next to you, something cracks.

The right wheel of the carriage snaps like a twig, skittering off into the mud and disappearing down the cliff.

The horses whinny as the carriage wobbles, tilts.

It seems to grow so large and dark over you.

Ever larger.

Ever closer.

>Best of 3: roll 1d100 against a DC of 65 (60 base, +5 because you were caught in your own thoughts).

Ending update on a cliffhanger? More likely than you think!
>>
Rolled 83 (1d100)

>>6015605
>>
Rolled 37 (1d100)

>>6015606
Nice roll!

>>6015605
Maybe we can crit?
>>
>>6015606

there it goes my rocks fall everyone dies. nice roll anon, sharp and quick!

>>6015608

crit is if you roll a 100 or get quads (or 1 but that's for negative crits)
>>
>>6015609
We still have one more roll to try for that 100/quadpost! Let's impress Salicera!
>>
>>6015611
let's hope so. I'll be going to bed for now, I suppose we can hope for another update in about 15 hours. I'll wait for the final roll to see if you get that crit hoping you don't get all your crits where you don't need them!

thanks everyone for playing, see you soon!
>>
Rolled 72 (1d100)

>>6015605
so there's a secret weapon in the carriage. can't wait for it. btw I gotta ask if you were inspired by the Lady Knight's Quest to make this one ? while a religious knight isn't a new thing, his quest was the only one to do it recently and with a femc to boot.
>>
>>6015798
>secret weapon

maybe.

>Lady Knight's Quest

Actually I was inspired by Disappearing Hogwarts Quest of all things. I had so much fun reading it I decided to take the plunge. Originally I had an idea to set the quest at a magic academia set im this same world, and actually in Argia' s homeland, the Sea of Candéa/Mar da Candéa she has referred to a couple times. It's a familiar location to me and I already set a short novel there, so I had some previous worldbuilding to fall onto.

But then Argia pinched my cheek and I chose her. She's a character I seem to deal with a little better and it was ideal for a first quest. Especially considered this is her first quest as well.
She has a bright future ahead, if you manage to keep her alive.

As for LKQ I read the first few posts (it's real good), but I am not sure if I will continue to avoid being influenced too much. Even if as far as I can say I am taking the campaign into a completely different tone and themes.

I especially would like to explore Argia's own relationship with faith, agency and self-determination, as it is central to her character. I suppose we will see how it goes. For now I'll try to focus on learning how to be a decent QM. Thanks for the question!
>>
>>6015606
>>6015608
>>6015798

[b]83,37,72[/b]

Nice rolls! Writing!
>>
>>6015605

You swiftly pull on the horse’s reins, getting out of the way as the bottom right corner of the carriage swings, making it turn until it grinds into the mud, wobbling dangerously, and then it slowly tilts back until it falls back on three wheels, the pulling horses still scampering, all antsy.

“Candente!” Comes the voice of the chaplain, turning his horse to check on you, “are you alright?”

“I believe so, Sir,” you reply, your voice a bit strained. You can still feel your heart beating in your throat.

You were fast enough to avoid being pushed to the ground. Your horse might have fallen upon you and—

Not a good thought to have.

But what matters is that you are fine.

Through the thin veil of rain you see the carriage is still mostly intact, but it’s not going anywhere, unless you either find the broken wheel and repair or it put another plan together. Which might be a problem.

Just another one.

“I think the carriage is stuck,” you point at the place where the broken spoke bit deep into the mud. “I doubt the horses will be able to pull it out. We need to put something beneath it first.”

But it will be hard to get it some purchase with the ground so wet and slimy. Even if the rain does die down… which would expose the ring.

“We may be able to salvage the spoke. Did you see where the wheel fell off?”

“Somewhere down the cliff, Sir,” you reply pointing behind you.

“And it’s already sundown… what a blasted night!” He curses.

Then, from the inside of the carriage comes a noise like shifting parchment, and tinkling trinkets, and finally one of the metal windows opens just a sliver, to expose the bandaged profile of a pale face.

[cont.]
>>
>>6016295

“Chaplain Selevanda,” she says with a voice that is nary a whisper but manages to be clear enough to sound as if it were right beside your ear. You shield your eyes in respect as the martial chaplain starts to reply.

“[i]Domina[/i].” He greets her, bowing his head “We seem to have, uhm, hit a snag.”

“I could perceive that from my bottle of ink turning into bottles of [i]spilled ink[/i],” she replies with an icy sigh. “So be it. Fix this, please. Ere the rain stops and the silver light of the Adversary reaches, if you at all can. Employ the trainees well.”

She shuts the metal window and you can see the chaplain’s shoulders slump.

You see Salicera get close as well, leading the other two and you share a look with the brown-eyed trainee.

>You decide to volunteer to go find the wheel. Without it you are going to have a hard time moving the carriage. Perhaps you five can affix it to the spoke and at least pull the carriage towards more favourable ground.

>There’s five of you and five more horses. You could still try to attach ropes to the opposite side of the carriage and pull it up, tilting it slightly so that it still runs on three wheels.

>You and Salicera are by far the most able and experienced. You can volunteer to check on ahead for signs the sacrificial well is close, and come back to help in a while. It should be safe, as long as you don’t ride too far away.

>Write-in.

this is an important vote so I will need a majority. I will be giving four hours from this post’s timestamp before tallying up results. You can ask for more info and I will reply, if I can. Think this thoroughly.
>>
>>6016301
>>You decide to volunteer to go find the wheel. Without it you are going to have a hard time moving the carriage. Perhaps you five can affix it to the spoke and at least pull the carriage towards more favourable ground.
>>
>>6016301
>You decide to volunteer to go find the wheel. Without it you are going to have a hard time moving the carriage. Perhaps you five can affix it to the spoke and at least pull the carriage towards more favourable ground.
>>
>>6016301
>>You decide to volunteer to go find the wheel. Without it you are going to have a hard time moving the carriage. Perhaps you five can affix it to the spoke and at least pull the carriage towards more favourable ground.
>>
>>6016301
>>6016301
>You and Salicera are by far the most able and experienced. You can volunteer to check on ahead for signs the sacrificial well is close, and come back to help in a while. It should be safe, as long as you don’t ride too far away.
Going big or going home, and we're all out of home.
>>
>>6016301
>You and Salicera are by far the most able and experienced. You can volunteer to check on ahead for signs the sacrificial well is close, and come back to help in a while. It should be safe, as long as you don’t ride too far away.
>>
>>6016328
>>6016367
>>6016386

zenposting

>>6016431
>>6016494

hornyposting

Also some stuff showed up so I am extending voting time to 60 minutes from now. Then it's writing time
>>
>>6016301
“I might be able to locate the wheel, Sir,” you decide to say. “Let’s see if we can attempt to make it work.”

“This looks beyond repair to me,” the chaplain groans, jumping off his horse and checking the state of the carriage, the thick wooden beam embedded in the mud as rain tinkles off his armour.
“But you are welcome to try. It can’t be too far.”

He snaps his fingers and he turns to address the other three.

“Soralisa and Salicera will stay here with me,” he points to the two brunettes, and then to the only one left out. “Rubida, you follow Candente and watch her back.”

“Sir!” She protests, her hands gripping against the reins. “You have seen what has happened. Wasn’t it such a sudden misfortune? Are you sending me off into the forest with—”

“I can go alone,” you interject, but it seems the chaplain is done listening to your bickering.

“You four shut your mouth before I send you off back to the Holy Land, one kick at a time! Misfortune or not, you will accompany Candente. Find the wheel and bring it back.”

He shifts his gaze to Soralisa, who shivers and tries to hide behind Salicera.

“You two, gather all the horses and help me tie ropes on the other side of the carriage. Let’s try some other solution while we wait for Candente.”

Rubida glares at the chaplain, but in the end she relents, bringing her horse close to yours.

“Make way,” she hisses, riding it past you and towards the cliff.

“It fell on the other side,” you point out in a whisper.

“I knew that!” She shrieks, turning her horse in the right direction.

Salicera shrugs and waves at you as you follow Rubida down the muddy road.

Hopefully this will just go smoothly.

The rain feels ever lighter upon your skin.

[cont.]
>>
>>6016583

At this point it is truly getting dark. You reach for your backpack, safely strapped to the horse’s back and take out a thick vial of what looks like transparent water.

You put it against your lips and murmur a brief auration.

Chiaro è lo sole ne le acque de lo meriggio ansante. Chiara sia la nostra strada nella valle de lo ignoto.

As you take your lips away from the vial, the liquid inside brightens until it starts to glow – a warm and incandescent radiance that’s soothing, and helps you see better than a torch.

You strap the vial to the side of your brigandine, and notice that Rubida is doing the same, carving out the shapes of your horses out of the blackness.

The auration makes your head fuzzy for a little while, much lighter than it would have been if you had cast a full Sanction.

You need to be careful — these hills are treacherous in the best of times, even if they are so close to the Holy Land.

There is a bad feeling biting at the mouth of your stomach, and it refuses to let go.

You grasp your axe.

You ride in silence, checking for broken branches, places where the wheel might have passed through.

For a while, the only sound is the soft clop of hooves, their raspy breaths and Rubida’s armour creaking and tinkling every time she leans out to check.

“I see nothing here,” Rubida sighs after a while.

“Patience.”

“I ran out of patience long ago, Candente.”

“That much is obvious—”

“Listen,” she hisses, turning her horse to reach for you. Her animal is larger and taller than yours, so she does loom a bit over you, her beautiful face framed by perfect black hair. “Is this all just a game to you? Like before, in the cave?”

Ansàrra Everburning, in this moment you hate Rubida so much more than usual.
She has better gear. A safe future ahead.

She is not here on some Quest to save her soul, like Saint Kishirra of old (may her name be blessed) or to help others.

She is here because one year of training in the outback counts as full remission of every sin, and in the eyes of a noblewoman of the Holy Land, it is a prize beyond compare if one has to be shipped off to marriage.

How do you know all this? You are not completely certain, but the way Rubida dell’Obertengo has always carried herself, together with her first-grade armour and weapons, as opposed to your assigned axe and downsized protections, with its thin tetrarmide layers, has spoken it loud and clear.

Maybe Salicera was right when she said that the two of you have far more in common.

[cont.]
>>
>>6016588

“I merely lend you a hand,” you remind her with a sneer.

You should be a better devotee and not let these dark thoughts and words spew out of your mouth like sizzling tar, but Rubida’s accusation makes you want her to share in your hurt.

“Was that too much for you? A hand from the cursed one, from—”

“Oh, now you finally admit it,” she scoffs, pointing at your hair, barely visible underneath your cape.

You two are alone in the deep forest, there is no sight of the wheel, and you should stop this, but Rubida’s words tip you ever closer to rage.

Besides, she is a Knight in training.

She is honour bound to give you satisfaction if she keeps besmirching your person.

And she may have better armour and weapons, but she surely was not trained by Mastro Ibardo Delebasse.

“Do you think I wanted to have these?”

You growl, pulling down your cape just a little bit, exposing the tip of your silvery hair.

“I was born with it. Just like you were born in the safety and luxury of the Holy Land, far away from swindling merchants and the grinding gears of Frigeìa. But I have proved my worth, again and again. In the eyes of Ansàrra before yours.”

Rubida’s mouth curls into a sneer.

“You don’t get it, do you. I’ll let you see.”

She fumbles with her armour and pulls back a length of steel and then the leather cover beneath to show her skin.

It’s her right arm, and you suddenly remember that she has always kept it covered.
When she pulls back, you can’t stifle a soft gasp.
Her flesh is mangled.


For the length of two palms, her right arm looks like an old gnawed bone, muscles fibres twitching aimlessly in the golden glow of your vials.

It’s not fresh, it’s… old.

It couldn’t be healed.

“What…”

“My uncle,” she explains, her voice as sharp as glass. “A devotee. A good man. Beloved and upheld as a paragon of virtue.” She pulls the cover back, and then the armour on top of it. “On the outside, of course. The apple always rots from the core, as they say.”

“He gave himself to the Sisters,” you murmur, quickly connecting the dots.

“I was nary a child,” she recounts. “He pushed me. I—” she shakes her head as if to dispel the memory, and the coolness of shame rises to strangle the fire of your previous anger.

“I am sorry. For what it’s worth.”

“Then you already know what its worth may be,” Rubida adds, cradling her arm. “I have my own share of sorrows, Argia Candente. The Holy Land is not without its shadows, may they be borne from within or carried from the outside. But you will forgive me if I keep my distance from someone who carries the very sign of the Adversary on her own head,” she says pointing her finger right there.

[cont.]
>>
Rolled 70 + 20 (1d100 + 20)

>>6016614

“I was granted the Sanction. Tonight, and many times before.”

“So was my uncle,” she replies.

“Are you saying that Ansàrra can make this kind of mistakes?”

“All I am saying is that She must have tried until the very last moment.” Rubida shrugs and pulls her horse away, once more checking between the branches and the leaves. “You will never know when they snap. I don’t want to be there when it happens, Argia Candente.”

With that, she shows you her back.

It’s clear this part of the conversation is over.

You are not going to snap.

There is nothing to snap from, you remind yourself.

You will not end up like that.

You are just here to prove your honour, and then, in a few months, you can leave this horrid year of training behind and go back to Master.

And when you will be crowned Knight and your family will finally be given access to the Holy Land, you will know that Rubida had always been wrong.

But it’s still a long way until there.

You sigh, trying to clear your mind of what you saw. The cobwebs of your sympathy for what Rubida went through beckon you to temper your anger.

“I think I have found it,” comes her voice. “Perhaps.”

You bring the horse next to hers. She is pointing her finger towards a wide hole in the ground, its lip surrounded by trees, but sharply leaving room to sprawling bushes and then… is that ice?

But there is something that resembles a wheel in the middle, for sure. The size is right, and the shape… you can’t really tell from here.

“Let’s check,” you say. If anything to show you are willing to listen.

You two bring the horses down, bit by bit. You frown as the air turns cold, then chilling, then bone-freezing. You shiver and pull yourself closer.
Rubida’s teeth are already chittering. Her metal armour is a trap.

“I’ll go,” you say, but before she can even react, there is a sound like raking nails and the and vials shatter, their light extinguished.

“Candente?” Rubida whispers. She’s pointing at the wheel.

The wheel that is starting to quiver.
And stand up.

It’s not a wheel.

>Roll: best of 3, 1d100 against a DC of 80 (70 base, +10 due to the cold).

long as fuck update, but I really wanted to show Rubida’s character a little more. Oh, and now it looks like you are in trouble. Best of luck with those rolls, frens. Next update tomorrow.
>>
Rolled 45 (1d100)

>>6016643
>>
Rolled 36 (1d100)

>>6016643
>>
Rolled 33 (1d100)

>>6016643
>>
Rolled 12 (1d100)

>>6016643
I hope that roll is not for the monster's attack
>>6016654
>>6016660
>>6016670
of course we haveto fail now, it wouldn't be a proper quest otherwise
>>
>>6016775
>of course we haveto fail now
Just like pottery.

>long as fuck update
Good as fuck update, QM. I enjoy your prose nd setting!
>>
>>6016654
>>6016660
>>6016670

uhhh Anon...

>>6016775
>>6016818

getting amazing rolls on deciding the length of your eyelashes and getting nat 1 in a fight for your life is just upholding a noble tradition

Next update in about 7 hours.
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>>6016818
[i]thank you so much anon.[/i]. I am so happy you are having fun
>>
>>6016643
It’s hard to see in the dark but you see well enough.

This [i]thing[/i] resembles a wheel just in its shape, as a round collection of bones, roots, and branches as curved talons which unfurl before your eyes, rattling and creaking.

In the shade, you see the profile of what looks like a human skull, elongated and misshapen. The thing rears and prances just as the horses do, trying to get away, but their hooves have a hard time finding purchase on the frozen terrain, and they have to struggle just not to fall at the bottom of the ravine.

The abomination studies you two for a moment, then —

You are ready as it reaches for your throat, its fangs bare and sharp as knives.

You try to swing your axe and hit it in turn, but this thing is [i]fast[/i].

It avoids your lunge and coils around your arm.

“Ah!” You cry, more in surprise than pain as the thing’s fangs luckily fail to penetrate your inner plates, but your relief if very short-lived.

The serpent pulls you down your horse and towards itself, the deadlight in its empty sockets speaking of hunger.

You pick your axe with your left hand and strike, but the thing is tough. It presses you upon the icy surface as it draws you ever closer, its wooden extremities trying to coil around your legs, around your torso, like a frenzied spider. It creaks and shrieks with a chilled hiss.

Tthe cold is starting to seep into your bones. You have no idea where it comes from, but it’s starting to make you shiver as your muscles strain.

“Get off me!” You strike again, but you barely have time to nick at it before you have to parry another lunge as it tries to bit your throat. The thing is so close you can make out the pockmarks and scratches all over its boney mask as it rattles against you, trying to get to your warm flesh, to your lifeblood.

Something wheezes in the air past you. A throwing hatchet hits it straight in the middle of the skull and it pulls back, releasing you. You quickly stand up, tossing a look behind you at Rubida, who is still riding and has just thrown one of her axes, her other hand wrapped around the reins of your horse, which is still trying to get away.

You and Rubida share a look. She may hate you, but she hates you [i]less[/i]than this thing.

You grit your teeth and turn towards the snake.

Your left arm aches and you feel like your right one is about to pop off its socket, but as usual, you feel bruises to your pride much more starkly.

You take pride in being Ibardo Delebasse’s only disciple in more than twenty years. You won’t allow this thing to stain the name of the Master… or to allow Rubida to tell the entire camp how she saved your shiny silver butt.

As the serpent-thing scrapes its head against the ice and pushes off the hatchet, you tap your finger against the cameo of Saint Bragia.
May she guide your hand.

>Best of 3: roll 1d100+21 (+15 from your axe proficiency, +6 from Saint Bragia’s cameo), DC 65 (55 + 10 from the cold).
>>
Rolled 50 + 21 (1d100 + 21)

>>6017458
>>
Rolled 71 + 21 (1d100 + 21)

>>6017458
>>
Rolled 76 + 21 (1d100 + 21)

>>6017458
Aah! Skelepede!
>>
>>6017458
Btw are we using that buff rn or it’ll only come if we ask for it ?
>>
>>6017472
good
>>6017524
better
>>6017535
now we're talking

>>6017611
You can use it whenever a majority of you decides to. Do you want to use it now?
>>
>>6017642
Nah, I'd save the sanction for when things are dire. We have a whole cult to tackle, right?
>>
>>6017645
So it seems, unless you feel courageous and vote to throw away your ace in the hole. Hey, fine by me if you do
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>>6017642
No
>>
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>>6017642
>Do you want to use it now?
nope, we still have a cult to cull after all. also being able to choose when to use instead of literally being the 1st strike makes it a little better than it was sold to us, QM you sly dog.
>>
>>6017671
I'll add a friendly OOC reminder that if I treated Ansàrra's Sanctions as a big deal... it's because they probably are a big deal.

>the I kneel reaction image

I am blessed
>>
>>6017686
>I'll add a friendly OOC reminder that if I treated Ansàrra's Sanctions as a big deal... it's because they probably are a big deal.
sure, I don't think any of the blessing were weak but since Daybreak Smith just said it applied to one hit and nothing else made it seem less useful than it'd be since most of the time you have to fight the weaker cultists before getting into the big one(s). with the info that we can choose when to activate it, now it looks better than Searing Blood, for example.
>>
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>>6017458

Even in this tense situation, you feel like being honest. Maybe Saint Bragia Lacresta, Archiater of Ansàrra and First Martyr to the Adversary, does not descend from the heavens bathed in a halo of searing light, raising her Morningstar in a divine strike of righteous retribution.

But maybe she did glance in your vague direction.

“Rrraahh!” You shout, your voice sounding coarse through your strained lungs.

Breathing in the freezing air hurts. Your axe cuts through the thing’s misshapen limbs and shears its knitted torso, screaming metal grinding against bone and wood.

Tiny splinters hit your face as your strike goes through any defence the monster may have and cleaves it right in twain.

The two halves fall to the frozen bottom, shuddering, shivering, and then one of them stops.

The one without the head keeps writhing there. You take a few more steps, clenching your teeth from the cold and you strike it again.
And again.
And again.

Until each chopped piece does not move anymore.

Panting, feeling the strain on your wrists from wielding your axe with such fury, you pick up Rubida’s thrown hatchet. It has bent in the impact and it’s probably useless now, but you feel like bringing it back to her.

“T-Thanks,” you say as you turn to your reluctant companion, your teeth chittering.

“Pick up a piece of it,” Rubida asks. “Soralisa will want to see.”

You nod, even if you really don’t feel like putting your hands there. You pick up the largest and closest piece even as your body gets raked by shivers. Breathing in this cold air feels utterly painful.

“I did not know,” you say climbing back up, when breathing in does not feel like swallowing needles, “that Soralisa was brave enough to look at abominations that closely.”

“She doesn’t,” Rubida replies, taking her hatchet back with a nod. “But she studies what terrifies her.”

“I had no idea.”

“Hardly a surprise, Candente.”

You ignore her goad and jump on your horse, holding the severed piece in your left hand.

Only then you realise that you picked up the head.

>Get out of this cursed spot and keep looking for the wheel. You came here for this, after all.

>At this point, it's clear that something is afoot. You better bring this up with the others.

Further dialogue/rapport choice:

>Thank Rubida for her help. It wasn't strictly necessary but it did help.

>You already thanked Rubida enough. It's obvious she only threw her hatchet out of duty.

next update tomorrow. I think it will be a pastebin with some more info about the character, mechanics and the world. At this point I believe you might find it handy.

Also, congrats on surviving your very first fight, anon. Good job.
>>
>>6017779
>At this point, it's clear that something is afoot. You better bring this up with the others.

>You already thanked Rubida enough. It's obvious she only threw her hatchet out of duty
>>
>>6017779
>At this point, it's clear that something is afoot. You better bring this up with the others.

>You already thanked Rubida enough. It's obvious she only threw her hatchet out of duty.
>>
>>6017779
is that an aimage for ants ?
>Get out of this cursed spot and keep looking for the wheel. You came here for this, after all.

>Thank Rubida for her help. It wasn't strictly necessary but it did help.
thanks op
>>
>>6017779
>At this point, it's clear that something is afoot. You better bring this up with the others.

>Thank Rubida for her help. It wasn't strictly necessary but it did help.
>>
>>6017779
>At this point, it's clear that something is afoot. You better bring this up with the others.
>Thank Rubida for her help. It wasn't strictly necessary but it did help.
But also make a jab in return.
Something like
>"Didn't think it's in you to strike precisely with an ally so close to the target. Thanks."
inb4 "Accidentally hitting a cursed one isn't one of my worries."
>>
>>6017821

>smol image

I am still unsure about what to use as pics for updates. I used to add buttons incons like that over the course of another webnovel, I might do it again.

I am not sure whether I should use AIslop either, I tried it before and the samey style makes it look kinda terrible desu.

I am open to suggestions.

>>6017857

I like this
>>
>>6017779
>Get out of this cursed spot and keep looking for the wheel. You came here for this, after all.

>You already thanked Rubida enough. It's obvious she only threw her hatchet out of duty
>>
>>6017791
>>6017793
>>6017834
>>6017857

>bring it up with others

>>6017821
>>6018258

>keep looking for the wheel

Also, 3 against further thanking Rubida, 3 for. I’ll write something appropriate.

Writing!
>>
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>>6017779

The forest looms.

You two spent a brief moment sharing ideas on what to do next. The wheel might be somewhere around here, but you are still shivering from the encounter, and not all of it is due to the cold.

Sometimes you glance at the ruined head you hold by your side, teeth aimed away from your thigh. It hasn’t moved yet, and the hatchet mark, courtesy of Rubida, is clearly visible.

She’s good at throwing. Master wasn’t one to teach you anything past a few basic moves as far as throwing weapons was concerned. He always deemed it a very last resort, and a dishonour to toss your weapon away during battle.

Then again, he was the bearer of a priceless relic from centuries ago, and you had been given a standard axe. You pass your thumb over the deep crack on the skull.

“That was a good one,” you remark.

Rubida turns towards you, creasing her eyebrow.

“I did not say anything.”

“I meant this,” you lift the skull.

She gives you a strange look.

“Was that a way to thank me once again?”

“No,” you reply with the tiniest flush growing to your cheeks, thankful for the cover of darkness.

Truth to be told, you have been of two minds about what to do with Rubida after she… helped you. Not that you really needed her help.

And you are not going to say ‘thank you’ over and over again.

“Good. Because who knows, I might not have aimed at the monster after all.”

You scoff.

“Your aim is less good than hoped, then.”

“Now now, Madama Candente,” she smirks, “are you perhaps comparing yourself to a monster?”

“I’m no—” then you realise the trap she laid just about your feet.

Once again, you feel like dancing in a crowded room, and everyone is just waiting for you to misstep. The blush on your cheeks gets blistering.

“Don’t you dare mention it,” she cuts short.

And that’s that.

[cont.]
>>
>>6018451
As you try to recover from making a fool of yourself once again, you also recover from the cold, and your heartbeat returns normal. As you slowly ride out of the forest and onto the winding road, something else hits you.

You are taking far too much time to come back.
You look up at the dull sky. The rain is definitely growing thinner, but the ring is still mercifully hidden.

Still, you feel this unbidden pressure, like an oily film embedded onto your skin.

One turn of the road, another, and you finally spot the others rummaging around the chariot. But the road to get there seems… stretched somehow. The trees, their shadows and their branches, thicker and darker.
For a few moments, you feel like you have made a wrong turn.

As you finally rejoin with your group, you see what they had been busy with so far. They tied ropes to the other side of the carriage and, using the other horses, pulled it up from the mud, the broken spoke sticking out like a broken bone. At least it seems the carriage will be able to proceed now.

“No luck with the wheel, hm?” Asks the chaplain.

“No luck and worse than that,” you explain showing them the ill-shaped skull.

The chaplain frowns, Soralisa goes white in the face and Salicera instead seems perhaps intrigued.

“Rubida and I dealt with this. It looked like the wheel from afar, but it broke our vials and it almost managed to do the same with my arm.” You shift your gaze towards the shy brunette. “Rubida said you would know what this thing is?”

Soralisa hesitates, then Rubida sighs and rides the horse up to her, wrapping her shoulders with her arm. She whispers a few words to her ear and then, finally, Soralisa gets close, picking up the skull in her trembling hands, her fingers exploring the pockmarks and the roots hanging from the inside of the skull like a brainstem.

“You s-said you found this in the woods? I g-gather deep inside?”

“Not that deep,” you reply. “We didn’t…” but then the same feeling reaches you. The pressure. The oily, slimy sensation. And for a moment you feel like losing your balance, as if the muddy road was shifting beneath your feet.

You look down and it’s not. The road are not changing before your very eyes.

That would be ridiculous.

“How long did it take for us to find our way back…?” You mutter.

“Soralisa,” Rubida encourages her. “You have to tell us.”

“I think those who built the sacrificial well did so inside the territory of a [i]Malostromo[/i].”

That name echoes from cautionary tales Master told you.

The Tree of Rotten Ways was never good news.
>>
>>6018465

OOC: before I proceed, I wanted to ask you a question. When there is a tie, like there was before about how to interact with Rubida (hence, something that is not related to dices or important decisions, more interactions or dialogue), is it alright with you if I write an interaction that is a mixture between the two? Or would you rather have any decision expressed with a clear voting majority?

>vote below

inb4 there is a tie on the vote to decide what to do with ties
>>
>>6018466
It's okay if you can mix them, although I think there'll be votes where that isn't possible.
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>>6018466
Yeah mixing is fine but sometimes it won't be possible, as the other anon said.
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>>6018466
Mixing when possible is fine, but as >>6018483 said, for more 'yes or no' decisions, you may need to roll for it or the like I guess.
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>>6015600
I wanted to mention this for a while but kept forgetting it. This is kind of a schizo theory that sprung up in my mind following Rubida's arm revelation, but perhaps Salicera is an agent of the Sisters and is scouting us since we have the sign of the Adversary with silver hair. It is just a theory but if seemingly friendly paragons can be corrupt, then it's not impossible. We need to be on our guard.
>>
>>6018483
>>6018505
>>6018511

Yeah, I’d mix only when possible. When it’s not an outright numerical vote or roll. Stuff like before, dialogue and interaction options.

Glad we all seem to agree. I’ll allow 90 more minutes of voting on this issue and then it’s writing time as we resume the quest with Soralisa’s first speaking role.

>>6018514

Hook me up with your dealer anon ‘cuz that shit good
>>
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>>6018465

Soralisa keeps explaining, gathering strength bit by bit, as she seemingly rakes her mind for more information on the matter.

“I-I asked how deep you went in the woods because usually you only encounter this kind of tree inside the oldest forests. I did not even think we would meet one here.”

Salicera is the next one to talk.

“So, I gather that is ill news?” She asks quirking her eyebrow.

A moment of silence stretches between her and the others. She tilts her head, puzzled.
“Did I say something weird?”

“I am just a little concerned you do not know about the Malostromo,” Rubida explains.
“I just could not receive the same kind of education you did,” she chuckles. “Please go Soralisa, did not meant to interrupt you.”

“Y-Yes, sorry. It’s awful news. This tree… it’s huge, white and twisted, like a miniature forest of thirsty pale knots. It develops by eating the blood of the animals and people that get lost inside its territory. It makes you lose your sense of place, and it can b-bend the area around you. The trails change, you get lost, and each step you take brings you c-closer to it. And when you inevitably r-reach the centre, you are so weakened you can barely stand on your two feet…” she hesitates. Rubida rubs her shoulder, trying to comfort her.

“Take a deep breath. What happens then?”

“You fall upon its roots and it sucks your blood dry. Your bones then are reanimated as part of one of its bony thralls. T-This skull… this skull belonged to someone who got lost here long ago.” Her voice cracks. “T-That what’s going to happen to us if we d-don’t’… oh Ansàrra Everburning, we must leave at once! Or at least ask the Blessed Blind for help!” She juts her finger towards the motionless carriage. “Please, Sir! Allow her to help!”

The chaplain scoffs and you inwardly agree. The Blessed Blind dances to a higher tune than anyone of you. Push her, and you get shoved back.
[cont.]
>>
>>6018770

“Let’s keep our head on our shoulders,” interjects Salicera, gently cupping Soralisa’s pale cheek. “We are not a bunch of hopeless enp-…” she stops and resumes. “We are not a bunch of hopeless peasants. You have the chaplain looking over us, you have Rubida, you have me.”

“We all have Ansàrra,” you add with a thoughtful nod, holding out your hand with your three middle fingers extended.

“And we have Argia Candente, finally,” Salicera adds with a little grin. “If this exercise was trying to make us work together, maybe it is working, don’t you believe so?”

Soralisa does not seem at all convinced, but between the two of them, she has to grace Salicera’s words with a little nod.

“Not that impressed so far—” Rubida mutters under her breath. “But I suppose at this point we need all the hands we can get.”

“So, Sir,” you say tilting your head towards the road. “Can we move the carriage? Did the Blessed Blind said anything while Rubida and I were away.”

“She has said all that she wished to,” he shakes his head. “That was supposed to be more than enough. A Malostromo,” he sighs. “What an evil fortune. At least you all have your Sanctions, don’t you?”

One by one, you all agree – you as first and Soralisa last.

“Then it’s decided. We keep aiming for the hilltop. It’s where the sacrificial well should be located,” he aims his hand at the winding road. Is it just you or does it seem to knot itself more than before? And the trees seem to grow thicker and darker…

At least you know it’s not your imagination.

But it might be a good thing, you tell yourself as you put your hand against your axe.

You cannot hack and slash at your own imagination.

[cont.]
>>
>>6018772

“Hearken to your hearts, ladies!” The Chaplain rises in his stirrups. “You have almost half your year of training ahead of you, I want to see all of you at the anointment ceremony! That goes for you as well, Madama Soralisa.” He adds a little chuckle which echoes metallic through his armour. “I see all that time spent with your nose in a book did not go to waste.”

He makes sure the rope attached to his horse is tight and starts to ride towards the hilltop.

One by one, you all follow him, changing your formation into a five-pronged fan, with the chaplain on the right and you next to Salicera to cover the left side, which is the most exposed.

With a tired whinny, the horses all start to pull and the carriage groans and creaks on its remaining wheels, but it starts to move. You add a silent prayer to your thoughts.

A Malostromo.

Of all the things you could face… at least this will make for an interesting story to tell Master. Your heart feels a little warmer at the thought of his grey eyes glinting with pride as you recount this adventure yet… something you came out of unscathed.

Because you are Argia Candente, and you have a family to free.

“Keep watching your ropes!” The chaplain reminds you. “We shall make road and direction checks every hundred steps.”

You all nod and keep pulling up the creaking, tinkling carriage.

After a few more moments, Salicera attracts your attention by rapping on your armoured shoulder.
“A word?” She hushes, leaning forward and cover her mouth with the side of her hand. “Was I really supposed to know about this vampiric tree?” She asks, her cheeks turning a little darker.

“It is quite infamous. You hear all about it in many legends and folk tales,” you reply, surprised by Salicera’s reaction more than her previous ignorance. “But I suppose it is alright. We are all making a fool of ourselves tonight… me as well,” you add with a little slump in your shoulder. After your lousy performance for the first half of your fight, the confidence you got from performing the Sanction is all but gone.

“Just between you and me, Madama Candente,” Salicera whispers, so soft you almost lose her words over the wet clopping of the horses and the creaking of the wood, “They both look up to me. Rubida and Soralisa. I want to keep being someone they consider…” she hesitates. “An… an inspiration.” She leans back, slumping on her horse.”

“You are an inspiration to most of us,” you reply, feeling grand. Are you really trying to cheer up the genius swordswoman who is supposed to be on par already with established Knight? Truly a portentous evening. “I am sure a little slip up here and there is not going to besmirch your reputation, Salicera Fors.” You say, putting a bit of strain on her family name.

[cont.]
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>>6018778

She considers your words, her brown eyes looking past you are the forest ahead.

“I shall try to treasure your words, Madama Candente.” She pauses, and a bit of her usual bravado comes back to tinge her words, her eyes regaining their usual sheer focus. “And measure up to them.”

“Indeed, you want me to look up to you as well?” You tease, trying to muster a bit of hopeful mood given the task ahead.

Her smirk fades, but the steel in her eyes seems to grow.

“Nay. In fact, I hope we can look at each other on level ground, Argia Candente.”

Then she turns and checks on her rope, leaving you pondering on her words.

“A-Anybody can t-tell me when I ought to stop holding onto this dreadful skull, please?!” Shrieks Soralisa.

>The confrontation is ahead, and the slimy, oily sensation upon your body keeps growing. At this point, you should treasure Soralisa's words and try to see past your troubles with this group. You either get through this together, or not at all. [You will get the chance to bank a single 1d100 roll to use on the benefit of others]

>As you keep riding on your horse you keep thinking about Salicera's words. The two other girls are looking up to her. And how couldn't they? Salicera is everything a Knight ought to be, and most importantly, she's not cursed. Just another reminder that your place is not here. You will do your best during this exercise... but then everything will go back to how it has been. [You will get the chance to bank a single 1d100 roll to use for your own benefit]

Longest update yet. I had a blast writing it, I hope you liked it. I will leave you to your voting window, which I am closing in 15 hours from now. As always, thanks a lot for playing! I really like how we are starting to get into the heart of things... let's just hope we can get out of it.
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>>6018791
>The confrontation is ahead, and the slimy, oily sensation upon your body keeps growing. At this point, you should treasure Soralisa's words and try to see past your troubles with this group. You either get through this together, or not at all. [You will get the chance to bank a single 1d100 roll to use on the benefit of others]
thanks OP.
>>6015895
somehow I missed this response.
>It's a familiar location to me and I already set a short novel there, so I had some previous worldbuilding to fall onto.
>But then Argia pinched my cheek and I chose her. She's a character I seem to deal with a little better and it was ideal for a first quest. Especially considered this is her first quest as well.
so Cadente was an OC you already wrote before, but she wasn't going to be the mc at first ? fair.
>She has a bright future ahead, if you manage to keep her alive.
>As for LKQ I read the first few posts (it's real good), but I am not sure if I will continue to avoid being influenced too much. Even if as far as I can say I am taking the campaign into a completely different tone and themes.
I see, althought I dunno if the influence could be that much since you already start with different rules.
>I especially would like to explore Argia's own relationship with faith, agency and self-determination, as it is central to her character. I suppose we will see how it goes. For now I'll try to focus on learning how to be a decent QM. Thanks for the question!
No problem, waiting warmly.
>>
>>6018791
>The confrontation is ahead, and the slimy, oily sensation upon your body keeps growing. At this point, you should treasure Soralisa's words and try to see past your troubles with this group. You either get through this together, or not at all. [You will get the chance to bank a single 1d100 roll to use on the benefit of others]

Salicera a cute.
>>
>>6018791

>The confrontation is ahead, and the slimy, oily sensation upon your body keeps growing. At this point, you should treasure Soralisa's words and try to see past your troubles with this group. You either get through this together, or not at all. [You will get the chance to bank a single 1d100 roll to use on the benefit of others]
>>
>>6018791
>>As you keep riding on your horse you keep thinking about Salicera's words. The two other girls are looking up to her. And how couldn't they? Salicera is everything a Knight ought to be, and most importantly, she's not cursed. Just another reminder that your place is not here. You will do your best during this exercise... but then everything will go back to how it has been. [You will get the chance to bank a single 1d100 roll to use for your own benefit]
>>
>>6018791
>As you keep riding on your horse you keep thinking about Salicera's words. The two other girls are looking up to her. And how couldn't they? Salicera is everything a Knight ought to be, and most importantly, she's not cursed. Just another reminder that your place is not here. You will do your best during this exercise... but then everything will go back to how it has been. [You will get the chance to bank a single 1d100 roll to use for your own benefit]
>>
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>>6018819
>Candente was an OC
yeah, I have a novel in the works starring her. She's cute to write for.

>waiting warmly
aww now you are making me blush

>>6018823
She is!

>>6018819
>>6018823
>>6018851

[b]3[/b] for banking a roll for others

>>6018864
>>6019259

[b]2[/b] for demanding our pound of flesh

Voting closes in 90 minutes from now. Then it's writing time.
>>
>>6018791
>The confrontation is ahead, and the slimy, oily sensation upon your body keeps growing. At this point, you should treasure Soralisa's words and try to see past your troubles with this group. You either get through this together, or not at all. [You will get the chance to bank a single 1d100 roll to use on the benefit of others]
>I had a blast writing it, I hope you liked it.
I did.

Another schizo theory because I'm not sure what Salicera wanted to say with "enp-": she wanted to say "npcs" and is actually the hero of an isekai. This is supported by the fact that she isn't knowledgeable about common folk tales like the Malostromo. Though most likely she simply grew up sheltered and didn't know much of the world and wanted to say something else altogether. (yes I am insane)
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>>6019360
thank you for your vote anon - this brings the total to 4 vs 2 in favour of banking a roll to save your fellow Knight from something bad.

You will be able to bank this roll over the course of the next updates, following certain actions. I will specify when you need to roll in order to work towards your banked Nat 1, rest assured.

And now, the news...
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>>6019431

You keep looking around you, trying to perceive where the next threat might come from. The road is starting to change direction, as well. You raise your gaze from the horse to notice that the trees seem to have suddenly come much much closer.

You five have to change your formation at times to pass around a tree, or to avoid losing sight of the others.

From time to time, a “Report!” from the chaplain breaks the silence, to which you all reply your name; and you also make sure the ropes are all secured.

For the first few hundred steps, even as the road keep twisting in ways you did not expect it to, this still feels somewhat safe.

It’s strange. You are all working together, for once. Flashes of previous campaigns appear in your memory: each time you four trainees went out on the field, there was a clear distinction between the trio headed by Salicera, and then, you would just fight on your own, counting the days that separated you from your next meeting with Master.

Now instead – would you look at that: you even heard Soralisa speak more than three words. You started to see a side to Salicera you never knew it even existed.

And Rubida even threw a hatchet without trying to hit you.

As far as you could tell.

You pull the rain cape a little tighter upon your shoulders as the few raindrops that still manage to get past the cover of the trees fall around you. This foreign dance, this… ballroom you have not been invited to and which has always felt cold and hostile to you—

Perhaps you have managed to take a correct step of two.
Perhaps.

You could at least hope so.

And maybe this time (just this time), you won’t have to face the unknown alone. If you learn how to coordinate together…

You may be able to get out of this terrifying situation.

You would need to properly understand how, to be frank. Soralisa is the best among you with Sanctions, Rubida can be solid as a support or scout, and you have been trained in pretty much every kind of martial weapon by Master.

Thinking about the way others fight is a little easier than trying to understand how others think, or which words to use, but at least you have a bit of experience with that.

Yes. Now you just have to decide what to do and who to talk with first.

>You turn towar

No, wait.

Something’s wrong.
It’s been silent for a while now.
Gulping, you reach at once for the rope tied to the carriage, pulling it taut.

Trying to.

It hangs loose and useless like a worn-out sleeve from your arm, sharply cut.
And the dark branches of the trees surround you and your horse, blocking all sight and every possible path.

You are alone in the twisted forest.

You probably should have taken the chaplain’s words about keep your wits about you... a little more seriously.

>Discuss what to do as Argia mentally kicks herself for daydreaming again.
>>
>>6019360
>Another schizo theory because I'm not sure what Salicera wanted to say with "enp-": she wanted to say "npcs" and is actually the hero of an isekai. This is supported by the fact that she isn't knowledgeable about common folk tales like the Malostromo.
hmm, this is kinda weak and she could just be sheltered, like you said.
>>6019431
>I will specify when you need to roll in order to work towards your banked Nat 1, rest assured.
AIIIIIIIIIE
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>>6019455
damn, we got lost that easily ? welp, can we use anything to look for a way back ? maybe something to make some noise ?
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>>6019455
In the image it was mentioned that the branch of a Malostromo could be used to find directions, can we use that? Though I guess Argia's not so close to the tree itself as to cut off its branch, but it's still good to be sure.

Besides that, I support making noise like the other anon suggested >>6019471 and maybe looking for the hill that we're supposed to ascend to find the well? Though I see in the update the trees are blocking sight... I'm at a loss. There's probably some detail that I'm missing...
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>>6019471

You can try and find something resembling a trail between the branches and the encroaching roots, but it’s clear that the forest is closing in. Any trail would just bring you to the centre quicker.

Make noise to call upon the others might call worse things (remember the bony amalgamation), and at any rate sound never travels very far in forests, especially those so thick.

>>6019500

Using the info page I uploaded to gather info may definitely be good thinking, but the tree is certainly not at hand. Though, as you did point out, the tree does pull everything towards itself. It bends time and space to its whims, so it’s likely that the others have already gotten lost as well.

After all, everyone in its area of influence would be pulled to the centre, where the tree rests. That is what you remember from Soralisa’s words.

Of course, from your previous experience with hacking and slashing, you may figure out a way to deal with this obstacle…
>>
>>6019574
USE DAYBREAK SMITE TO IGNITE THE WOODS. BURN IT! BURN IT TO THE GROUND!

Ok in all seriousness, idk how hacking and slashing will avail us. Seems like a good way to tire Argia out so she literally "falls to the tree's roots and gets her blood sucked dry", in the words of Soralisa. ig we can use our axe to cut a way through to the centre since we're going to end up there anyway at some point. This seems like the only anchor point to regroup with the squad, then we can see if we can figure something out together.

Can we use Saint Bragia's cameo somehow to lead the way for us?
>>
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Rolled 3 + 1 (1d6 + 1)

>>6019586
>>6019455

>anon using his schizo powers

always a sight to see.

# # # # # #

Your hand coil on the reins, gripping on them for dear life. You are inside it - you fell into the trap, and the very air you breathe is damp with the feeling of despair and madness.

Your other hand feels the comforting hardness of steel. You have cut through hordes of enemies before. As the branches seem to get ever closer, you wonder if these malignant trees under the power of the Malostromo can be made to bleed.

Between your harrowing breaths, you feel the touch of your cameo against your breast.

What would Saint Bragia do in this situation?

Saint Bragia Lacresta, of the unwavering flame, whose flowers still sometimes bloom in the forgotten dungeons, guarding the bodies of lost Paladins…

Wait.

Through the darkness of mounting fear a ray of light peers through. You can’t die here. You have not come so far to die to a stupid tree.

“I can’t make a circle,” you murmur glancing at the profile of Saint Bragia. She is not striking beautiful like Saint Kishirra, she is not as awe-inspiring as Carnaval, the Angel of Ansàrra.

She used to be just a lost girl like you. But she never bowed the head. Not even when the Adversary rose in might to ensnare her.

Using the Sanction you called upon would be a terrible waste, but there is another you could use. Reaching for your backpack, you take out a long strip of cloth you use to hold your bread. But right now bread is the last of your worries.

The night that Saint Bragia was killed, Ansàrra mourned her passing with such anger that the night was sent shuddering and withered, licking its wounds in the murky corners of the sky.

Perhaps you can embody her sacrifice if… you are ready to sacrifice a little bit of yourself.

Blood better given to Ansàrra than some malignant plant anyway.

>Attempt to petition for a slow-burning version of the Sanction of Searing Blood, turning your left arm into a torch. It will likely cause some damage, but Ansàrra’s hallowed flames can make short work of steel and stone, wood would hardly be a problem. Of course, it’s going to hurt…

>You have an axe, trees are made to fall to axes, and there is only one way you are supposed to go. Let’s see how the forest likes it when you try to chop it off. You have a feeling that wood made malignant under the control of the Malostromo might be more vulnerable to your righteous anger.
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>>6019599
>Attempt to petition for a slow-burning version of the Sanction of Searing Blood, turning your left arm into a torch. It will likely cause some damage, but Ansàrra’s hallowed flames can make short work of steel and stone, wood would hardly be a problem. Of course, it’s going to hurt…
HOLY SHIT wood burning is actually go (this is probably a bad idea, but tiring Argia out is bad too, no perfect options, other anons' opinions?)
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>>6019633
>dat pic

Ansàrra's onyx tits, anon, I love it.

Argia is not one for half measures, it seems. Even if when they are probably bad ideas (but sometimes in a dire situation you can only choose the least-worst option).

I am going to leave votes and suggestions open for the next 18 hours this time.

Looking forward to see how this develops. See you all torrow!
>>
>>6019599
>Attempt to petition for a slow-burning version of the Sanction of Searing Blood, turning your left arm into a torch. It will likely cause some damage, but Ansàrra’s hallowed flames can make short work of steel and stone, wood would hardly be a problem. Of course, it’s going to hurt…
after reading the story of that flower, I'm couldn't not choose the hardcore option. btw I'm assuming and Stilladìa is either some strong monster or some king of strong follower of evil here.
>>6019665
>Ansàrra's onyx tits, anon, I love it.
wait, she's a rock woman ? steven universe strikes again.
>>
>>6019668

>the Stilladìa

you have already met her. I am working on a lore/characters pastebin to clarify a few details

>Steven Universe

please anon let's not bring blight upon this land.

Also, I have never properly described Ansàrra in any of my writings for very precise lore reasons; but 'onyx' is a good, if vague, descriptor.
>>
>>6019722
>you have already met her. I am working on a lore/characters pastebin to clarify a few details
we did ? I'm more curious now

>Also, I have never properly described Ansàrra in any of my writings for very precise lore reasons; but 'onyx' is a good, if vague, descriptor.
oh, so it's the color not the mineral ? got it
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>>6019599
>You have an axe, trees are made to fall to axes, and there is only one way you are supposed to go. Let’s see how the forest likes it when you try to chop it off. You have a feeling that wood made malignant under the control of the Malostromo might be more vulnerable to your righteous anger.
>>
>>6019599
>Attempt to petition for a slow-burning version of the Sanction of Searing Blood, turning your left arm into a torch.
By fire be purged!
>>
>>6019599
>>Attempt to petition for a slow-burning version of the Sanction of Searing Blood, turning your left arm into a torch. It will likely cause some damage, but Ansàrra’s hallowed flames can make short work of steel and stone, wood would hardly be a problem. Of course, it’s going to hurt…
>>
while we wait for the votes to approach the final tally, I have prepared you not one, but TWO pastes collecting info on your character stats, those of your companions, and another one which provides further info on the Powers of the world such as Ansàrra, the Adversary and the Seven Sisters.

Links below:

MC AND STATS:
>https://pastebin.com/By6W3xxD

LORE AND CHARACTERS
>https://pastebin.com/CuxGS43X

hope you find it useful!
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>>6020222
can't read everything rn so mostly skimmed for the names and for the Stilladìa. So that's why silver is considered cursed and since you said we met her before, it must mean that she's the one responsible for our family getting displaced and probably why we have silver hair. btw you put the lore & cha link under the mc & stats and vice-versa, kek.
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>>6020257

I noticed. Retardo QM as always

>she displaced us

not really, or at least not directly. I meant 'you' as readers/players, not Argia herself.

glad the reasons for the curse of silver are becoming clearer!
>>
>>6020262
>not really, or at least not directly. I meant 'you' as readers/players, not Argia herself.
...did you make a previous quest with her ? wait, I just went to the top of the quest and now I get it, since it's a horned woman. does it mean Argia is destined to have her soul snatched since she picks an specific soul sphere and says our name ?
>>
>>6020270
what happens to Argia is more up to you than to me.

>a previous quest

I'd wish. I have notes on at least a couple novels with her, but for now the Stilladìa sits on the benches twiggling her thumbs and waiting for those soul futures and options to mature.
>>
>>6019599
>You have an axe, trees are made to fall to axes, and there is only one way you are supposed to go. Let’s see how the forest likes it when you try to chop it off. You have a feeling that wood made malignant under the control of the Malostromo might be more vulnerable to your righteous anger.
>>
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>>6019668
>>6019770
>>6019787
>>6019633

>Burn it

>>6019757
>>6020356

>Chop it

While Argia takes a quit detour at home depot for a can of gasoline, I'll be writing the next update!
>>
>>6019599

The forest seems to feel your ill intent. The branches loom ever closer, brushing and creaking against each other as air feels thicker. Not a drop of rain reaches your armour by now, so thick is the foliage around you.

Maybe the tree has perceived your intent. Or maybe it’s just hungry enough to pick you first.

“Big mistake,” you scoff, and your boast helps to fill your heart with a little more warmth.

You will not die here. Master has trained you too long and too well, and besides…

You pick up your axe and you swiftly pull up the sleeve on your left arm.

… besides, you are never truly alone.

“I am surrounded by a bunch of firewood, o Sun Birther,” you mutter as you cut the outside of your arm with the axe. Pain flares sharply — one, two, three. “It would be a wonderful occasion to introduce it to your Word.”

Just as blood starts to flow, you rip a few more clothes strip with your teeth and tie them around your arm, all the way up to your arm, forming a large knot, making it as wide and puffy as you can. You are going to need it.

Somewhere close, there is another kind of noise. Not just branches and wood creaking against each other, something large and heavy is approaching.

Whatever it is, you are in the middle of prayer now. It will have to wait.

You try to push your own fear away, focus on the pain, focus on the warm blood staining the cloth strips red.

You push out your thoughts, a beacon in the darkness. The circle is not there to help you, you don’t have the right preparation, you don’t have the right materials…

The cameo of Saint Bragia rests on your chest, though. And that may be all which you need.

That, and for your prayer to reach out to the Holy Land.

As you grit your teeth and the horse starts to agitate beneath you, it’s clear you have even less time than you though.

A few branches snap, behind the curtain of your closed eyes. The smell of dead things spread, thick and sickly sweet, mixed with a heady pinch of resin.

Please.

>Best of 3; Roll 1d100 add +6 from the cameo of Saint Bragia, against a DC of 48 to successfully cast the Sanction.
>>
Rolled 72 + 6 (1d100 + 6)

>>6020406
c'mon lads, it's our time to shine
>>
Rolled 21 + 6 (1d100 + 6)

>>6020406
>>
Rolled 20 + 6 (1d100 + 6)

>>6020406
>>
>>6020446
>>6020447
>>6020459

>78, 27, 26.
Close one, anon.

>>6020406

Light bathes your vision even through your closed eyelids. The soft gasp of when fabric suddenly catches fire flicks against your hair and when you finally open your eyes --

Your whole left arm wriggles with golden flames. They run up towards your wrapped hand, gently lapping at the knot you made, carving the shapes of the trees and branches from the night.

Their soothing warmth kisses your skin. After the fear and the desperation, it once more reminds you of summer.
Training with Master.
Seeing your skills improve.
Finding a moment of connection with Salicera and even Rubida.
The warmth seeps, gilded and welcome, all the way to your heart.

The closest leaves catch fire.

With a noxious scent of singed hair and burned skin, the branches burn, but they do not catch fire, instead blackening and coiling upon themselves like spiders do when their hour comes.

You blink through the wavering tides of light. Your arm still hurts, it's still bleeding, but it feels more like a distant ache now, like when you press your finger against a scab.

And then the sight of the fire and the flames, even as it hypnotises your gaze with their soft wavering, seems to draw you in... you sway atop the horse, wincing as you hear more of those heavy steps coming closer. Something is approaching through the curling branches, and with it the effort required from casting the Sanction, especially without a circle...

>You managed to receive the Sanction, but now you have to see if you can withstand its effects.
>Your left arm is now on fire: the Sanction should last at least a good half hour, but until it has ran out, you won't be able to use weapons or tools. You will receive a -4 (the 1d6+1 roll a few posts above), penalty to combat rolls until it heals.
>On the other hand: your left arm is now on fire. Use this info wisel- oh, who am I kidding?


>Best of 3; Roll 1d100, add +6 from the cameo of Saint Bragia, against a DC of 60 to resist weariness.

you have yet to score even a dub anon, I am sorely disappointed.
>>
Rolled 77 + 6 (1d100 + 6)

>>6020474
Quads coming right up!
>>
Rolled 37 + 6 (1d100 + 6)

>>6020474
So that’s what the 1d6 was for, welp. Also dubs are hard, qm and we did get one although it wasn’t during rolls.
>>
Rolled 44 + 6 (1d100 + 6)

>>6020474
>>
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>>6020483
>>6020491
>>6020497

83, 43, 50. Good job, anon.

one day you will get dubs, trips. even quads. I believe in you.

>>6020474

Once more, the demands of the Sanction seep into your flesh, hook into your soul. Just like the roots of the Malostromo would love to do, they try to sap at your life force, but—

“Day will rise again,” you mutter the words of Saint Bragia. The withering sensation fades, leaving you once more with just the dull singing of the flames. They dance and waver, chasing after the darkness, scattering it.

You can make out a slumbering misshapen shadow in front of you, shielding its sunken eyes from the heat and brightness of your left arm.

With renewed vigour making your heart soar, you aim your axe at the looming aberration: your glowing limb shows you a creature… no, an amalgam of bones and skulls and roots, just like the skeletal serpent you met before. This one though seems to have been made of many bodies conjoined. Pieces of rusted metal around its shins and a broken sword sticking out of its elbow suggest that the malignant wit of the thirsty tree is finally perceiving you as an enemy, and not just as prey.

The fact makes you smirk, even as the creature raises its arm, and the hors prances back, challenging.

>You wait for it to come close and strike it with your axe. Like before, these creatures may be horrifying, but they are relatively brittle. Let’s see how well this one fights without its sword… or without its head.

>You throw caution to the wind and pull on the reins, charging it atop your horse, a battle cry scraping your lungs.

>Your left arm is on fire.
>>
>>6020504
>Your left arm is on fire.
putting it to good use already. also those santctions are kinda dangerous to use in the heat of battle due to the taxation that come afterwards, thankfully we're yet to get hampered by it.
>>
>>6020511
you have been lucky so far. also, in general, shown good thinking and initiative.

of course, the [Weary] condition is no joke. and just wait to see the others...
>>
>>6020504
>You wait for it to come close and strike it with your axe. Like before, these creatures may be horrifying, but they are relatively brittle. Let’s see how well this one fights without its sword… or without its head.
>>
>>6020512
you mean our team ? shit
>>
>>6020504
>You wait for it to come close and strike it with your axe. Like before, these creatures may be horrifying, but they are relatively brittle. Let’s see how well this one fights without its sword… or without its head.
>>
>>6020504
>>You wait for it to come close and strike it with your axe. Like before, these creatures may be horrifying, but they are relatively brittle. Let’s see how well this one fights without its sword… or without its head
>>
>>6020504
>You wait for it to come close and strike it with your axe. Like before, these creatures may be horrifying, but they are relatively brittle. Let’s see how well this one fights without its sword… or without its head.
>>
>>6020504
>Your left arm is on fire.
Wasn't it mentioned that the holy flames consume not only wood but also metal and stone? Should be no problem to deal with the thing.
>>
Rolled 17, 71, 35 + 5 = 128 (3d100 + 5)

>>6020511
>>6021016

>become firepunchman

2 votes

>>6020514
>>6020532
>>6020823
>>6020952

>burárum

4 votes

axes it is. Writing!
>>
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>>6020504

The stench hits you in waves. Thick and heavy, the same horrid sweetness you got used to during your travels with Master, with that hint of sap to remind you that this amalgamation is a revenant creature of the Malostromo. You stomach churns, but you hold on.

For a moment, even as the thing creaks and lumbers ever closer, its arm reaching its apex, you wonder who the bones and sinews used to belong to. You glance at a broken tibia, at a fragment of a rusty helmet caught between teeth, at empty sockets out of place, filled with the glow of your burning arm.

Someone who got lost? A mighty warrior, fallen to despair? A mother and child, slumbering in the endless roots labyrinth?

The gnawed mass of wood and bone and metal glistens at the light of your Sanctioned fire.

Time holds its breath.

You tense your right arm, gripping your axe -- whatever it is, it won't be for long.

# # # # # #

COMBAT ROLL!

# # # # # #

>Combat rolls usually work differently from rolls against DCs.
>You will be asked to roll 1d100 + bonus or malus
>This would be repeated for a total of 3 replies
>At the end, we compare each of your rolls to each of my rolls
>Higher roll wins.

So, now

>For the first 3 replies to this post: roll 1d100 and add +17 (+15 from your proficiency with axe, +6 from Saint Bragia's cameo, -4 from your bleeding left arm)
>Compare to my results of 22, 76, 40, and win at least ONE roll out of three
>>
Rolled 45 + 17 (1d100 + 17)

>>6021107
Chop chop. Now I’m curious as to what’d be different if we went the firepunch route
>>
Rolled 97 + 17 (1d100 + 17)

>>6021107
Axe time!
>>
Rolled 7 + 17 (1d100 + 17)

>>6021107
>>
>>6021137
>>6021138
>>6021140
we bet all 3, nice
>>
>>6021137
>>6021138
>>6021140

You can always vote for it later on. The Sanction will keep your arm lit for a little while yet.

22 76 40
vs
62 114 24

good job, anon!

>>6021107

The thing lowers its arm, the rusty blades catching on the the light for a a moment. But your arm is much quicker, a steel lightning that strikes the limb of the conjoined creature. Your axe eagerly bites through the rotten wood and tainted flesh held together by the malignant will of the Malostromo, and it cuts it right off, sending it flying in the distance.

The creature does not scream nor reacts, merely stumbling forward and wobbling as its balance changes too sudden for the mind leading it to adapt.

You know what to do. Master drilled it into your mind far too many times. By now it's little more than habit.

# # # # # #

"Here," he says by pointing at his lower limb as he mimes a sword lunge once again. "Just as the shoulder shifts, you have to put your weapon where it will aim, not where it is right now."

"But if I can't even see it, how can I-- Master... I don't know..." You protest, your young body aching, covered in bruises where Master's wooden stick caught your arms unaware. Once, twice. Twenty times.

"It's all a matter of habit. You will train yourself to move without thinking. The warrior who stops and wonder is one ready for the grave, Argia. Again!"

He'd raise his arms to strike, and you, with your meagre strength and dull reflexes of a fifteen-years old girl barely escaped from the horrors of the Landing Strip, would wince and raise your arm to intercept it, until--

# # # # # #

You pull on the reins, using the horse's momentum to lean to your right, and your next swing catches the creature's very chest, cleaving it in two with a wet [/]squelch. The head of your axe cuts in one swing through wood, bone and metal, emerging close to its shoulder covered in filth and glistening with vengeances.

The monstrosity splits like a tree hit by lightning. Its two halves fall to the ground, and when they still try to tremble towards you, crawling on the dark grass like blind snakes, the horse quickly stomps on them, cracking skulls and snapping rivets.

At last, you take in a long breath, looking around you for signs more are coming. The dancing golden light of your Sanction shows only branches and leaves, each of them curling into black soot as the golden flames brush their kiss of death upon them.

You pat the horse's neck.

"Good job. I'd share an apple if I had it," you chuckle.

You swing your axe a couple times to clean it of filth, and then you can finally take a good look at your surroundings.

>The trails have disappeared, but with how easily the Sanction's fire burns through this filth, you are confident you can start creating your own trail.

>You couldn't recognise the bewitched bones, but they surely belonged to someone. You decide to take a few moments to spare a prayer to them.
>>
>>6021165
>The trails have disappeared, but with how easily the Sanction's fire burns through this filth, you are confident you can start creating your own trail.
>>
Anons generally vote fast, strange
>>
>>6021165
>You couldn't recognise the bewitched bones, but they surely belonged to someone. You decide to take a few moments to spare a prayer to them.
>>
>>6021165
>>You couldn't recognise the bewitched bones, but they surely belonged to someone. You decide to take a few moments to spare a prayer to them.
>>
>>6021165
I don't see why we can't do both, in sequence, first prayer, then burning a trail. Or is it a decision about how much time we spend on stuff besides breaking through the forest towards the Malostromo? Because of the time limit of the Sanction?
>>
>>6021351
Time must be the thing, anon
>>
>>6021351
it surely is a matter of time. And also your companions might be uh... caught up in something. It's up to you to decide.

>>6021299
I for one appreciate it

Voting ends in 15 hours.
>>
>>6021356
>>6021360
Alright.
>>6021165
>The trails have disappeared, but with how easily the Sanction's fire burns through this filth, you are confident you can start creating your own trail.
We'll avenge the bones by destroying the Malostromo with holy fire.
>>
>>6021360
>I for one appreciate it
same, when I'm awake. so it's strange things were slow now
>>
>>6021165
>>The trails have disappeared, but with how easily the Sanction's fire burns through this filth, you are confident you can start creating your own trail.
>>
>>6021195
>>6021363
>>6021447

>3 for leaving

>>6021321
>>6021333

>2 for sparing a prayer

6 more hours to see if voting change. I need to catch some sleep today, uodates may be a little shorter.

Also nice triple trips anon, blessed. See you all in a bit
>>
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>>6021165

From time to time, Master attempted to sharpen your mind as well. He'd find far less success than in training your heart or training your arms, but in this moment you remember a certain puzzling riddle he mentioned once.

"How deep can a deer lose itself in the forest?" You mutter under you breath. Master teased you about it for days, until he finally mentioned the answer. "Until its centre."

And you know what awaits for you at the centre.

"Let's go," you said pulling on the reins. The horse 's hooves creak over the remains of the thing that attacked you. Wonder where that amalgamation of bones even came from. These wooden paths and rugged hills often hid refugees and smugglers trying to get into the Holy Land; perhaps they got caught in the net of the Malostromo years ago, and their remains had been forced to serve it since then.

You raise your hand in the usual blessing of Ansàrra, as a way to say goodbye. Trying to understand where they came from and which heathen god they followed would have taken too much time.

Perhaps, on another night, you can be even more of a proper Knight... but for now your duty is to those who are still alive.

Even if a very small part of you wouldn't mind if Rubida got her face all smeared with mud...

"At least her complexion would actually resemble the Kiengiri she boasts as ancestors."

Holding out your left arm as a torch, you slowly carve yourself a trail through the foliage. Branches and roots shiver and creaks over each other. The air is thick with the smell of dead flesh, and as you whip your gaze left and right you can see more dark things slumbering between the trees. But they do not dare approach you yet, and you just allow the horse to go on, through a winding path that makes your head feel heavy and your eyelids tingle with slumber. That oily feeling greases its way to your sinews.

You must be getting closer.

And just as you try to push away the noxious embrace of induced sleep by gritting your teeth, sharp noises reach your ears: there is combat ahead. You stop to listen: crunching and slashing and metal against metal clanging.

There must be someone ahead... you can only guess who.

>Amidst the echoes of metal you hear a shrill voice calling for help, and you catch flashes of golden light, much sharper than those coming from your slow-burning Sanction. Must be Soralisa.

>Over the sound of metal you can clearly hear a smooth female voice spewing a list of blasphemies that would have made the sailors of the Mar da Candèa blush. Rubida must be losing what little patience she had.

>The sequence of strikes is far too sharp and precise to be another monster. There is only one other trainee who possesses such finesse, and it seems you are going to meet Salicera again.

Also:

>first reply rolls 1d100 not your banked roll but part of the process

characters info and stats to help you decide: >https://pastebin.com/CuxGS43X
>>
Rolled 59 (1d100)

>>6021946
>Amidst the echoes of metal you hear a shrill voice calling for help, and you catch flashes of golden light, much sharper than those coming from your slow-burning Sanction. Must be Soralisa.
let's go with someone we haven't "met" before
>>
>>6021946
>Amidst the echoes of metal you hear a shrill voice calling for help, and you catch flashes of golden light, much sharper than those coming from your slow-burning Sanction. Must be Soralisa.
>>
>>6021946
>Amidst the echoes of metal you hear a shrill voice calling for help, and you catch flashes of golden light, much sharper than those coming from your slow-burning Sanction. Must be Soralisa.
Though Rubida is also overexerting herself, at least she isn't terrified.
>>
>>6021953
>>6022013
>>6022025

interesting votes so far. Voting will last just 60 more minutes because I am intrigued and want to make an update.
>>
>>6021946
>>Amidst the echoes of metal you hear a shrill voice calling for help, and you catch flashes of golden light, much sharper than those coming from your slow-burning Sanction. Must be Soralisa.
>>
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>>6021946

That could only be one of your companions.

Your hand tries to find comfort on the axe's grip. There was a time when...

# # # # # #

From the first moment you saw her, it was clear as day that the brown-haired girl did not want to be there. She kept her nose buried in her notes, showing you two her back. Salicera, the other brunette of the group, seemed too aloof to try and strike up a conversation. But then again, if even half the things you heard about here were true... the girl was somewhat of a genius.

Which meant it was up to you. You gulped, crossed over the stony patio overgrown with plants, and, making sure to keep your rain cape tight over your hair, you extended your arm and cleared your voice, showing her the universal welcome sign of Ansàrra.

"At morning, we wake up with bright thoughts," you said with what might have approached a smile. Your lips felt a bit tight. Any moment now you would stumble -- and make a fool of yourself. Why were you even trying? It was not as if--

"By midday, we h-have shared k-kind words with each other," the brunette said, lifting her flighty eyes from her notes. "U-Uh. You know the scriptures." At which, you blinked. It still felt -- good -- to be acknowledged like that. You had taken to the faith only for the past three years and it was yet another reason you were a fish out of pond here.

"I'm trying to. I'm..." The pupil of Master Ibardo, you would have wanted to say. Just to give yourself a bit of a head start. Especially with the sword savant peeking over her shoulder at the two of you... "I'm Argia Candente. From the--"

"-- Mar da Candéa! Of course, your family name is related, is it not?" Soralisa interjected, closing her book with a dusty snap. "I read all sort of wondrous news from there, e-even if its' heathen lands! Do you come from the Echorian Isles?"

"No, I'm from Marca da Purpura, to the south..." You explained, already feeling like you were in far past your depth.

"Can you tell me a little more out of it, please?" She asked you, opening her notes once again, and you felt yourself chuckling, despite trying not to. Perhaps you could try and make a friend...

You blink, coming back to the present.

Ah, yeah, those days when you still thought you could be friends with her.
And then Rubida had to happen.

[cont.]

>Make 1 reply: roll 1d100 like before.

I did not expect you to pick her up, and unanimously so! Let's see where this takes us...
>>
Rolled 8 (1d100)

>>6022132
wasn't that supposed to be Soralisa in the text ?
>>
>>6022141
shit, hope this is a best of the total individual rolls
>>
>>6022141

> a fucking 8
not a good look, anon

the memory had both Salicera and Soralisa present -- Salicera was training on her own and giving you two a look over her shoulder, while Soralisa was busy with her notes and you tried to strike up a conversation with her. In retrospect, I should have made Soralisa a blonde or something.

But I now realise I did intend to write 'about it' rather than 'out of it'. Am I just that tired? Whatever... writing next parts.
>>
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>>6022132

# # # # # #

Days later, you entered the mossy rotunda with a smile upon your face.

"Soralisa, I brought --" only to find a black-haired girl conversing with Soralisa. She was dressed in delicate robes that hugged her thin waist and flaring hips and she turned her deep blue eyes at your coming. If not for her pale complexion and given from the descriptions Master gave you, she -- might -- have passed for a Kiengir survivor out of the abyss of time, so heart-stopping gorgeous she was. And yet her fine features seemed to darken at your presence and a shard of ice stabbed you right through your chest, scraping and frozen.

Back to the old dance. The one where you stumbled and fell.

"Ah--" Soralisa, sitting behind her, tried to say, but the newcomer just smiled and walked up to you, holding her hands together on her chest, not even extending one in a welcoming sign.

"You must be the new one," the black-haired one said, her smile picking up a steely quality. And you couldn't even muster enough bravery to point out that she was the one who had showed just today, so she was the newcomer...

"I-"

"Quite," she nodded curtly, shutting you up. She was a couple inches shorter than you but she seemed to loom all over your figure as she leaned forward. "I have heard rumours about you, Argia from the Mar da Candéa or whatever it is." Her eyes darted to your silver hair and you just knew -- "I am sure you will understand that you would be wise to keep your company to yourself, during the year we will have to regrettably share in the outback."

"I did not come here for... for you," you tried, one of your fists balling at your side. "I wanted to speak to Soralisa."

"And did you even ask her if she wanted to speak to you?" She tilted her head back towards the brunette, who shied away from your eyes and turned away from you, white as a sheet. Your heart crumpled and sank like a stone into deep dark depths. "As I thought," the black-haired girl added. "To each their aisle. I see this as a good foundation for a long and fruitful year of training, don't you agree? I am sure you do. Now, I won't hold you here, I am sure you have places to scamper off to... newcomer," she waved her hand and came back to sit next to Soralisa, who still held her head low and kept her hands in her lap.

You could have rode off to Master. You could have unsheathed your longsword and pointed at her and shout that she just behaved like an absolute heathen to the first disciple in twenty years of Mastro Ibardo Delebasse, bearer of Saint Kishirra's relic and head of the very same Order.

Wouldn't have made for a Knightly deed.

"It's Candente," you added, turning back, blinking fast to keep your eyes from burning, wondering where you went wrong this time... "Argia Candente."

# # # # # #

So ended your very short friendship with Soralisa.

[cont.]

>1st reply: Roll 1d100
>>
Rolled 100 (1d100)

>>6022150
was the 8 for this fiasco of our first encounter or it'll still be used ?
>>
>>6022152
neat
>>
>>6022152
We are blessed
>>
>>6022154
Ansàrra blessed us
>>
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>>6022152
>it's the final Bo3 on your banked roll
>it's a fucking Nat 100

Gloria dell'Aurora, as they say in Madua anon --

>>6022154
truly

You will be able to spend this roll in the next few updates, getting there. For now, great job anon!

moving on with the rest of the update...
>>
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>>6022150

But that was in the past.

"Soralisa!" You shout as you plunge your horse into the wall of creaking branches. "Away, away!" You strike with your torch-like arm, burning through the foliage and the roots. The shapes that you saw tailing you start to pick up pace as you push the horse forward.

"Soralisa!" You shout once again -- but sound does not carry well in a forest, especially so when it is this dense and thick. The branches you cannot burn scratch your arms, your torso, they catch briefly in the steel chain of your cameo which tugs against your neck--

"Not this one, abomination!" You growl, grasping in rage at the wooden talons that tried to take your greatest treasure, and they turn into withered black cinders. "I won't be hindered by you!" You shout again. The horse seems to understand your plight because it picks up pace again, and swing after swing of dancing golden light, so fast that it starts to make your head fell dizzy, you carve yourselves a path towards the spot where you heard Soralisa cry, which was...

... it's now coming from a spot behind you.

"Starless Night," you curse gritting your teeth. The tree does not want to make you reach her in time, shifting the terrain from beneath your feet. You need a way to--

The night blooms gold.
Frail veils of gilded light peek through the foliage, making them shudder with the weight of their malignity. The lumbering corpses that have been following you tilt and get slowly pushed to the ground by the broiling waves of light, which are coming from behind you.

You turn and see it -- past the cover of the trees, like a spear of light aimed to pierce the stars -- a fiery spark of brightness is starting to raise towards the leaden cover of the clouds. It's so bright you can count the single curves and shades of them, miles above -- yet the light does not hurt your eyes.

It's far from over, though. You recognise this, you have seen Soralisa attempt it once before. And fail.

There are Sanctions so utterly majestic that you'd be consumed by them, like paper in a furnace. Blessings and Punishments so entwined you can't tell them apart anymore. Wanton, searing devastation.

"Sanctione de la Effimera Corona," you mutter, falling to the Maduan dialect in your awe, as the glowing spark reaches higher and higher, a lazy golden comet. You don't have much time. "Put it down, Soralisa! Let it go, I'm coming to help!" You shout. Uselessly. "That stupid..."

You hold on to your breath. You turn, swift and thought, and throw yourself at the branches and creatures rising to meet you, to keep you away from the crying Soralisa, who's completing the oration, one word at a time. Your left arm seems to burn even brighter.

You are going to need it.

>Bo3: Roll1d100 + 17 against a DC of 80 (use your axe)

>Bo3: Roll 1d100 + 37 against a DC of 80 (use your burning arm)
>>
>>6022180

Reminders: you have one banked roll (Nat100, so automatic crit success, no ifs no buts no take-backs), to be used to help someone else. To use it, you must have a voting majority on a specific action. You will be able to gain more banked rolls --- sometimes as a Bo3 like this time, sometimes different. It will depend on your actions and the developing style of play.

Next update:

>tomorrow.

Also, interesting choice picking Soralisa, I would have bet you'd pick Salicera; you anons forced me to write a piece of character development I wouldn't have minded to insert a few updates from now, but then again you got a Nat100 out of it, so... perhaps Ansàrra really was looking over us, like >>6022159 said.

As always, thanks a lot for playing. Tomorrow and Sunday's updates may be a little slow because I am going to be busy. Hope you liked it!

See you soon and remember to share bright deeds with each other.
>>
Rolled 57 + 37 (1d100 + 37)

>>6022180
It’s time
>>
Rolled 95 + 17 (1d100 + 17)

>>6022180
>>
>>6022185
Alright. It’ll be a busy weekend for me as well. See you soon.
>>
Rolled 65 + 37 (1d100 + 37)

>>6022197
Nice!

>>6022180
>Bo3: Roll 1d100 + 37 against a DC of 80 (use your burning arm)

>>6022185
We wanted to know our whole squad! Now I want to win back the respect and companionship of our first friend. Good wingwoman for when we woo Salicera
>>
Rolled 9 + 17 (1d100 + 17)

>>6022180
>>
>>6022190
>>6022197
>>6022338
>>6022664

>2 rolls

I need at least one more roll with either of the suggested actions in order to write the update.
>>
>>6022180
>>
Rolled 28 + 17 (1d100 + 17)

>>6022180
Whoops
Axe Time2
>>
Rolled 21 + 37 (1d100 + 37)

>>6022812
Rolling again
>>
>>6022821
>>6022834

thanks. I'll start writing in a bit
>>
>>6022180

two successes in both categories, anon. good job.

Your first strike comes from your right. You have barely the time to think about the tide of gnawing teeth and empty eye sockets as you swing your axe, cleaving through them, the sharpness of your metal doing quick work of them.

Of the first layer, that is. The malicious wit of the tree seems to have understood that keeping you separate is extremely important, so it's trying its hardest to keep you away from Soralisa: as you hack your way through the first row of misshapen corpses, another rises to replace it, and more and more, until the horse's hooves climb on bones and twisted root and quivering flesh as you yet try to advance.

As you struggle the light that shines over the forest gets brighter and brighter. Air is starting to feel thin, dry.

"Let me through!" you shout, swinging with your left arm this time and--

The golden flames around your arm spread into a burst of retribution, a flash of searing light pierces the corpses, eating through the cursed flesh like flame through parchment. They wriggle, helpless, as the will of the Malostromo is broken, at least for a few moments. You manage to pass through, and keep your eyes up as you divide your attention between the slumbering thralls still trying to grasp you -- a swing, a hack, more bones flying in the air -- the branches coiling around you -- your flaming arm turns them into soot, but they still slow you just enough -- and the direction.

The terrain beneath the horse shifts and turns like a giant beasts' back. On one step you are aiming right, then left, as the very land seems to fold over yourself.

But your hold on. The Sanction is still gathering power... sucking it out of Soralisa's body. If you don't reach her soon, if you don't find her and make her stop, if you don't save her, she's going to finish petitioning for something greater than she can hold onto --

And you are going to be right beneath the center of the explosion. Indeed, that might be another reason to find her soon.

More shadows appear around you. They close in, fast.

At this rate...

A small, squirming part of you wonders if it isn't not already too late. If it wouldn't be better to try and hide from the burgeoning Sanction... you can feel your skin growing heated, the pulsating light coming in wave after wave from above, like a cycle of dawn after brightening dawn.

But that would mean --

Soralisa's body, turned to a cracked, blackened corpse by the Sanction's backlash. She is not like you. Like Salicera. She did not want to be here. Must have panicked, under the influence of the Malostromo. Must have thought herself alone and abandoned.

Did you even try to reach out to her after Rubida tried to keep her away from you? The weight of that thought bears down upon your shoulders, just as your backpack slumps against your back, something cold and hard pressing against it. What it--

-- wait.

[cont.]
>>
>>6022972

Your backpack holds everything you may need during your adventuring. Length of rope, a change of clothes and... a bottle of spirits, which you keep to clean your weapons.

Spirits which are extremely flammable. Perhaps just enough to open yourself a path. It's a crazy intuition borne of the desperate moment, but... the history of the Saints has shown that desperate moments often brought the best results. It might just be enough to open yourself a path.

You'd have to be quick, and nimble as your left hand is useless, and pray you get to it quick enough before the corpses reach you... otherwise you'd have to try a mad dash through the trees and corpses, praying you reach Soralisa in time.

You don't have much time to decide.

>Grab the bottle of spirits, open it with your mouth and spew a torrent of flames ahead, trying to burn through the Malostromo's influence enough to reach Soralisa before the Sanction consumes her: Bo3, 1d100 against a DC of 85. No penalties in case of success.

>Throw yourself into another mad dash. You have an inkling that this time you won't emerge unscathed, but it's probably going to be easier than the other one: Bo3, 1d100+17, beat at least one of my opposite combat rolls. Even in case of success, 1d4 to be added to your current checks penalty (currently -4) due to your exertion.

Majority vote on one of the options; if you fail in your rolls, you can quickly try the other option with a penalty. Next update in about 15 hours, see you tomorrow anon.
>>
>>6022999
>>Throw yourself into another mad dash. You have an inkling that this time you won't emerge unscathed, but it's probably going to be easier than the other one: Bo3, 1d100+17, beat at least one of my opposite combat rolls. Even in case of success, 1d4 to be added to your current checks penalty (currently -4) due to your exertion.
>>
>>6022999
>Grab the bottle of spirits, open it with your mouth and spew a torrent of flames ahead, trying to burn through the Malostromo's influence enough to reach Soralisa before the Sanction consumes her: Bo3, 1d100 against a DC of 85. No penalties in case of success.
Fuck it, we ball
>>
>>6022999
>Throw yourself into another mad dash. You have an inkling that this time you won't emerge unscathed, but it's probably going to be easier than the other one: Bo3, 1d100+17, beat at least one of my opposite combat rolls. Even in case of success, 1d4 to be added to your current checks penalty (currently -4) due to your exertion.
>>
>>6022999
>Throw yourself into another mad dash. You have an inkling that this time you won't emerge unscathed, but it's probably going to be easier than the other one: Bo3, 1d100+17, beat at least one of my opposite combat rolls. Even in case of success, 1d4 to be added to your current checks penalty (currently -4) due to your exertion.
>>
>>6023111
>+1
Anons are cowards today
>>
>>6022999
>Grab the bottle of spirits, open it with your mouth and spew a torrent of flames ahead, trying to burn through the Malostromo's influence enough to reach Soralisa before the Sanction consumes her: Bo3, 1d100 against a DC of 85. No penalties in case of success.
>>
>>6023600
>OMA it's anon with a steel chair!

nice void dubs as well

it's a tie (based) — 60 minutes to break it or roll.
>>
>>6022999
>Grab the bottle of spirits, open it with your mouth and spew a torrent of flames ahead, trying to burn through the Malostromo's influence enough to reach Soralisa before the Sanction consumes her: Bo3, 1d100 against a DC of 85. No penalties in case of success.
>>
>>6023614
tiebreak - bottle of spirits it is! Writing!

>>6023111
checked
>>
Rolled 2 (1d4)

>>6022972

You struggle to reach for your backpack, quickly strapping your axe to the horse. Each breath comes through your lips sharper and drier than the last. You hope you can --

Ah, no time for hoping, just action. You swing your left arm at the contorted face of a gawking corpse, its teeth glistening in the light just as your fist smashes against them and it loses its grip on your side. Your movements are so fast they feel erratic. You struggle to find the bottle in time. This is going to sting...

>Bo3, 1d100 against a DC of 85.
>If you succeed, 1d4 will be added to your current checks penalty.

best of luck ,anon. I commend you for choosing the harder option.
>>
Rolled 5 (1d100)

>>6023632
Didn’t it say no penalties in case of success ?
>>
>>6023665
yes, sorry, I was copy pasting and made a mistake. No penalties.

that's what happens when you update from workplace
>>
>>6023668
Fair. Busy weekend as well I see.
>>
Rolled 99 (1d100)

>>6023632
>>
>>6023700
99 and dubs? anon leave some of that good luck for others. now let's see if someone rolls a crit
>>
>>6023700
Ansarrà protects
>>
Rolled 73 (1d100)

>>6023632
Nat100 incoming
>>
>>6023677
regrettably so.

>>6023730
she usually does. she ATTACC only twice so far. it wasn't pretty either time.

>>6023783
there's always next time anon

# # # # # #

Results:

5 (bruh--), 105 (99+6 bonus for dubs), 73. check definitely passed. will write as soon as I get home
>>
File: Effimera Corona.jpg (281 KB, 595x842)
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281 KB JPG
>>6023632

At first, your fingers slip. Your hands are sweaty, jittery. But then your fingers close around the bottle and you take it out, struggling to unscrew the cap. When you finally remove the metal cork, you raise your flaming hand in front of your face, you gulp as much spirits as you can, its flaming taste tingling inside your mouth and then you spew it out in an arc.

The idea, as crazy as it might have been, works: with a flaming roar of retribution, you spew golden flames before you, and as the heated droplets find corpses and wood alike, they set it on fire - the flames don't catch though, as just like before it seems that the fire of Ansàrra burns these too deep to spread, but in a few moments, while you dry your mouth and the spirits make your head spin and swim, there is a hole carved out in the wall woods and bones.

And beyond it, the light assails you. And the broiling heat.

A young woman is knee-deep in the mud, holding her arms out, palms up, muttering words in the language of Madua, a sunken look to her face. The pale skin of her hands is starting to flake off.

"Soralisa!" You shout. You push the horse ahead, scraping its hooves against the remnants of the corpses. Your right hand leaves the bottle, reaching for your axe, and you swing it at more of the slumbering, misshapen corpses which are trying to reach Soralisa's crestfallen form.

A strike, another, and you sift through the mud, stumbling and losing your grip on the horse as the mud sloshes around you. You barely manage to stay on your feet and you advance towards her, while the horse runs around, whinnying at what's going on above you: the ascending spark has reached its highest point and it's starting to bloom into a series of concentrical rings, like a glowing orrery of fire.

"Soralisa," you choke, reaching her. Your left arm makes the mud sizzle when it touches it. "Soralisa! I'm here, let it go! STOP!" You scream right in your face.

The dull light in her brown eyes seems to brighten as she blinks.

>You try to knock her out. A sharp hit to her nape should do the trick. You would stop the Sanction dead in its tracks, but you are not sure about the consequences it would have on her body long-term. Her arms are already starting to wither.

>You try to reach out to her, talking to her. You have to bring her out of her reverie and away from the Sanction that's consuming her. You were never the greatest at this, but if you can lead her back... perhaps you can avoid too much long-term damage, but it might not stop the Sanction from playing out, at least not fully.

There's going to be a 1d100 roll on this after you make your decision; no modifiers. Remember that you have a banked roll of a Nat100 in favour of others. If you want to use it now, say so while you cast your vote.

This is an important decision so I won't be rolling to break a tie. You have to reach a majority.
>>
>>6023947
>>You try to reach out to her, talking to her. You have to bring her out of her reverie and away from the Sanction that's consuming her. You were never the greatest at this, but if you can lead her back... perhaps you can avoid too much long-term damage, but it might not stop the Sanction from playing out, at least not fully.
Use the Nat 100. Save our first friend, and prove our worth to the group in the process.
>>
>>6023947
>At first, your fingers slip. Your hands are sweaty, jittery.
Mom’s spaghetti

>You try to reach out to her, talking to her. You have to bring her out of her reverie and away from the Sanction that's consuming her. You were never the greatest at this, but if you can lead her back... perhaps you can avoid too much long-term damage, but it might not stop the Sanction from playing out, at least not fully.
Time to use our banked nat100 and save her from fucking her body up even more.
>>
>>6023970
now I want to make myself some spaghetti. garlic and oil and pepper and chili, just like the founding fathers intended.

usual 15 hours or so for voting. I will see you soon.
>>
>>6023947
>You try to knock her out. A sharp hit to her nape should do the trick. You would stop the Sanction dead in its tracks, but you are not sure about the consequences it would have on her body long-term. Her arms are already starting to wither.
>>
>>6023947
>You try to knock her out. A sharp hit to her nape should do the trick. You would stop the Sanction dead in its tracks, but you are not sure about the consequences it would have on her body long-term. Her arms are already starting to wither.
We all must make sacrifices
>>
>>6024082
>>6024002
We anons we have a nat100 for this kind of situation, why choose this ?
>>
>>6023947
>>You try to reach out to her, talking to her. You have to bring her out of her reverie and away from the Sanction that's consuming her. You were never the greatest at this, but if you can lead her back... perhaps you can avoid too much long-term damage, but it might not stop the Sanction from playing out, at least not fully.
Use the nat100
>>
>>6023947
>You try to reach out to her, talking to her. You have to bring her out of her reverie and away from the Sanction that's consuming her. You were never the greatest at this, but if you can lead her back... perhaps you can avoid too much long-term damage, but it might not stop the Sanction from playing out, at least not fully.
Use the banked nat100
>>
Rolled 28 (1d100)

>>6024002
>>6024082

>Knocking her out and stopping the Sanction.

>>6023948
>>6023970
>>6024216
>>6024559

>Using your banked crit to reach out to Soralisa. At least part of the Sanction will still go off.

Clear majority. Pleased to see involvement. Writing!
>>
>>6024592
is this the roll for the sanction parcial explosion ?
>>
File: The sun in my hand.png (1.61 MB, 845x939)
1.61 MB
1.61 MB PNG
>>6023947

Life in the Landing Strip had been horrible since the first few days. The wastes of muddy land, long-since deprived of any fertility, the armed bands of marauders sacking what little was left, living day after day as you and your family tried to make a living together with the few decent people you could find there, while all of you awaited for a sign from the heavens, for the Knights of Ansàrra to allow at least a bunch of you through the warding walls and into the Holy Land.

You had lost almost everything there. So, when Master finally picked you up and chose you as his disciple, giving you a chance to prove yourself, you instantly developed a sense of urgency. And a deep-set disdain for those lucky ones who had lived in Madua all their life. What did they know of the life outside the blessed lands? The life that had been taken from you by the swindler merchants of Frigeìa, turning your family’s business, your lovely wineries and orchards into untilled land?

So, in up to a point, Rubida’s aloofness and even Soralisa’s cowardice had rubbed you the wrong way. You had tried to be friend with the brunette girl, but she pushed you aside the moment Rubida went and took her under her wing.

“Soralisa, please,” you say as you hold her shoulders, lightly scrolling her, trying to pull her out of her stupor. “You are not alone. Please snap out of it.”

Memories of Rubida’s arm flash before your eyes as you wait for Soralisa to understand what you are trying to say. You will probably never truly appreciate or enjoy the company of your black-haired companion, but after knowing what she went through you started to understand why she tried to separate you from Soralisa. Why she tried her hardest.

But now you are trying the hardest to pull her back and—

“I know you don’t want to be here,” you mutter, drawing the other girl into half embrace, letting og of your axe and holding your left arm away. “We were all scared, and we did underestimate the Malostromo. But I am with you. You have my arm as a shield. Please, Soralisa… come back. Let it go.”

You shudder as a creaking vibration echoes through the night. The night, which is now as bright as day, as the Sanction is truly blooming.

The orrery of golden fire above the two of you is turning faster and faster — a noise like a woman’s shriek starts to echo, louder and louder.

You grip her hands in your own right hand, feeling her flaky, dried skin beneath your own.

It may just be a little too late. You sigh, looking up at the growing brightness. But you are not letting go.

And it’s hard to see in the blinding light, but Soralisa’s eyes flutters, she gasps as she seems to see you for the first time.

“A-Argia?” She asks. “H-How… it hurts. I…” she looks down at her hands, her fingers trembling against your palm. “I c-can’t… I saw so many… I can’t close my hands, I c-”

“I’ll guide you.”

[cont.]
>>
>>6024609

Now isn’t that a bit of a boast. You feel like your breath is made of glass as you look at Soralisa, at the tiny bit of blooming hope in her eyes, so gentle as opposed to the screaming orrery she has lost any control over. Admitted you could even have anything like control over Ansàrra’s Sanctions… they were just not made to be wielded by fragile mediums such as bones, flesh or hearts.

You slowly close your hand over Soralisa’s two. You feel resistance, like her hands are made of sharp crystal. She winces. But then you close your eyes, leaning forward and gently touching your forehead to hers.

You remember the first time Master taught you about how to use Sanctions. How to ask for them. Letting them flow past you, but not through you. Corralling them like a paper dog a herd of flaming sheep.

“You will stay and the flames will flow past you,” you recite Master’s words as Soralisa’s breath catches in her throat. You feel her brown hair tickle against your face, caught in the blowing wind as the Sanction is about to burst into a sphere of retributive destruction. But you hold on firm. These come from the same Ansàrra who allowed you to be taken in Her embrace.

There is no need to be afraid.

A strange feeling of calm fills your heart. You feel like the cameo of Saint Bragia is touching you both now.

“The Dawn will cry out in its deafening silence, and you will stand to witness it,” you murmur.

Just like you did when Master guided you, you feel Soralisa’s eyelids slowly close.

“… e-effimera è corona e seguine silenzio.” Soralisa murmurs those words in a broken sigh, but it’s enough. Her shoulders slump as she falls against you, bereft of all strength.

You manage to close her hands.

Above you, there is a noise like shattering glass. The piercing womanly scream fades into sudden silence.

Then you hold onto Soralisa, keeping your eyes close as the Sanction plays out its fury. Even behind your eyelids, you can see the withering golden rings of flame fall on the ground, rolling and shattering into chaotic sparks, dispersing outwards in a tide of heat. Each breath feels like choking inside an oven. Your sweat evaporates off your skin. The flames you held in your left arm waver back and forth, scattered by the other Sanction like birds before a wolf.

Far off, more noises reach you. Trees falling. Bodies cracking and breaking under the assault of flames. One by one, the echoes of the shattered Sanction fade into nothingness.

When you open your eyes, you and Soralisa are surrounded by a landscape of ashes.

Your brigandine is singed, and your hair is all frizzy even under the protective cover of the cape. The air is so thin you are having trouble breathing. The mud has dried and cracked; the forms of fading trees and corpses like mirages as the power of the Malostromo is broken, at least for the time being. The rain is a faint memory.

"I c-can't feel my arms," Soralisa winces.

[cont.]
>>
>>6024622

You chance a look at Soralisa’s hands. At her wrists. At her arms… where skin used to be, she’s now covered in a layer of what looks like black charcoal. The tip of her left thumb starts to flake off under your touch and you withdraw your hands at once.

“I’m sorry,” you mutter. “If only I had arrived before…”

“N-No, no, no it’s… oh, thank you, I…” Soralisa chokes between frightened sobs. “I was so lost. I felt like fading. That thing — it showed me what was going to happen to me, to all of you. Our corpses paraded as thralls, sucked dry. Our blood would be its nourishment, and our anguish its sport. I saw it all. I wanted… I wanted it to end. I’m sorry.”

“Soralisa! Argia!” Comes a familiar voice. You turn to see Salicera’s tall form as she jumps down a pile of slain bodies. They are all blackened and fused together by the power of the Sanction. Half her clothing is burned as well, filled with holes where it ate through the fabric, showing her shoulder, her side and part the curve of her plump thigh. A distant part of your mind, one that is not completely shocked by the fact you managed to seemingly bring back Soralisa from the brink, right on time, registers that fact and makes your face feels hotter than it has any right to… even after the Sanction risked to turn you all into memories sifting in the wind.

“What did you think you were doing?” Salicera scolds the brown-haired girl, crossing the path to you two in what looks like a matter of seconds. Now that the Malostromo’s power has been broken, you realise that your group has barely left the road. In the distance you notice the carriage, surrounded by more hills of slain. The horses and the chaplain turn towards the noise, a shimmering veil of golden honeycomb starting to dissipate. It seemed the Blessed Blind used a more powerful version of the Warding to protect them.

“I— I’m sorry,” Soralisa says, mortified. “I got lost.”

“Well you have to be grateful to Argia, then,” Salicera sighs, putting her longsword casually on her shoulder. It’s covered in dried filth and entrails and pieces of wood from her confrontation. She got half her body burned and fought a pile of corpses as tall as you and she barely seems to break a sweat.

A genius. Of course she’s a genius.

“Where were you?” Shrieks Rubida’s voice as she gallops towards the rest of you. She’s the only one who managed to keep a horse other than you, but her armour is dented and she has an ugly gash on the side of her neck. “Soralisa! Soralisa!” He jumps off the horse and catches her in a tight embrace. “Your arms! You poor thing, what did you do?”

You decide to give them space. Rubida tosses you an icy glare, but this time… this time Soralisa does open her mouth.

“… no. No, it was thanks to her. It’s fine, she… she helped me.”

[cont.]
>>
>>6024633

You rub your neck and take a step back as the carriage creaks and starts to move towards you.

Rubida opens her mouth. Closes it. She rubs her hand against her wound, seemingly uncaring.

“Is that so.” Like before, when she showed you her permanently-mangled arm, she gives you a strange look. She licks her chapped lips, as if carefully choosing her next words. “I could have helped her much better if I had been there. And yet, if what Soralisa says it’s true…”

“It is,” the brunette insists. Her arms are still stiff as stone.

“… then thank you. Now. What happened to your arms? Was that the Sanction of Ephemeral Crown? You dimwit, that’s something even the Sunseekers have trouble petitioning for! Are you trying to do like Carnaval?”

Soralisa groans, tired, and Rubida helps set her on the ground, as she passes her bloodied hand through her brown hair.

“You idiotic…” she says, then bites her lips and tosses you another look. She nods once.

You suppose it’s more than enough.

“Oh, so that’s what it looks like,” you hear Salicera’s voice next to you. You stand up as well, picking up your axe. The bandages around your left arm are reduced to cinders, but your skin and armour is more or less unscathed. Still, that Sanction has been snuffed out. It matters not,it has served you well.

As you turn, you cover your eyes at the brightness peeking through the shredded cloud cover. The Sanction has bore a hole through them and it’s still slowly spreading. Any protection the rain has given you is gone, especially now that the planetary ring shines bright and silver across the entire sky. It’s so bright it’s like watching grey light caught in a mirror.

Next to you, Salicera is blinking and shaking her head. She seems to have been dazzled by the ring, and you remember that she always had a peculiarly keen night sight. But that is a double-edged sword.

And yet, it’s not the ring she was referring to, you realise.

Beneath it, right at the top of the hill rests a large white tree. Its twisted branches a spiral of hooks and thorns, it ekes out against the black sky, bathed in the planetary ring’s light. Even from here, the burnt marks from the Sanction are clearly visible on its pale bark. Soralisa’s Sanction did accomplish this, at least.

“Our job is not yet done,” you huff, gripping your axe.

But, as you hold onto Saint Bragia’s cameo, perhaps you can hope you have come a little closer.

And the familiar warmth of the cameo feels even stronger now.

>Wait for the carriage and the Blessed Blind to reach you and tend to Soralisa and Rubida’s wounds. Also, there is strength in numbers.

>You and Salicera nod at each other and immediately advance towards the tree. Who knows if that thing can recover or not? You better deal with it right away.

# # # # # #

>The cameo of Saint Bragia will now grant you a +7 bonus from +6!

# # # # # #
>>
>>6024638
>Wait for the carriage and the Blessed Blind to reach you and tend to Soralisa and Rubida’s wounds. Also, there is strength in numbers.
Considering we're both wounded, let's wait for the rest.
>>
>>6024638
>You and Salicera nod at each other and immediately advance towards the tree. Who knows if that thing can recover or not? You better deal with it right away.
>>
>>6024638
>Wait for the carriage and the Blessed Blind to reach you and tend to Soralisa and Rubida’s wounds. Also, there is strength in numbers.
>>
>>6024638
>Wait for the carriage and the Blessed Blind to reach you and tend to Soralisa and Rubida’s wounds. Also, there is strength in numbers.
>>
>>6024638
>>You and Salicera nod at each other and immediately advance towards the tree. Who knows if that thing can recover or not? You better deal with it right away.
>>
strange that there wasn't an afternoon doot. are you still stuck with work, op ?
>>
>>6025093
no, I was doing some language tuition for a friend's girlfriend and her friend. They have a big test coming up. And I am generally horribly busy these weeks

>>6024730
>>6024905
>>6024958

3 for waiting

>>6024787
>>6024961

2 for facing the music.

7 more hours for voting, then update time. As always, thanks a lot for playing anons.
>>
>>6024638
>You and Salicera nod at each other and immediately advance towards the tree. Who knows if that thing can recover or not? You better deal with it right away.
LET'S GOOOOO
>>
>>6024638
>You and Salicera nod at each other and immediately advance towards the tree. Who knows if that thing can recover or not? You better deal with it right away.
There can be no respite as long as evil still stands.
>>
>>6024638
>You and Salicera nod at each other and immediately advance towards the tree. Who knows if that thing can recover or not? You better deal with it right away.
>>
>>6025451
>>6025473
>>6025509

what a turnaround! writing!
>>
Rolled 28 + 66 (1d100 + 66)

>>6024638

Salicera turns towards you, still blinking fast to try and get her vision working properly.

“Did you set your arm on fire?” She asks as she takes her weapon off her shoulder, swinging i lazily back and forth.

“It was a necessary—”

“I know,” she grins. “Lighting yourself on fire, throwing yourself at Soralisa like that… ha!” She gives you a glance from above her shoulder. “I wonder what other surprises you have in store for us before the night is over, Argia Candente.”

“Hopefully nothing that requires me to burn my other arm,” you reply with a bit of dry wit.

“I am going,” Salicera mutters, tilting her head towards the figure of a tree. “Never killed a tree before, even during training. I suppose there is a first time for everything, in this se- in this section of the training, I mean.” She addresses Rubida, who has regained enough wit to tie a tight cloth around her neck to stop the bleeding: “I am going. We—”

“Us,” you confirm and Salicera nods.

“Can you take care of yourself while we try to deal with the tree?”

“Quite,” she sniffs, then Rubida tosses a look at you as well. “I suppose I should wish you good luck. Put your ability to throw yourself at danger to a good end, Candente.”

“-rgia,” comes Soralisa’s whisper. She raises her right arm, even if it takes her a lot of effort. “… ‘ake it away from the… ‘round. Blood and… corpses, its nourish… ment,” she mutters.

Your shoulders ache, your arms feel like lead, and you have lost most of the contents of your backpack. Your left arm still feels tingly, like you slept on it. And you have lost the protective cover from the clouds.

And yet, you allow yourself the very first smirk in a long while.

“Thanks for the advice, Soralisa. You just lay down and wait for the Blessed Blind to treat your wounds.” The carriage is almost there. Soralisa will get the treatment she needs… and there might be a way to save her arms.

As you turn towards the tree, that oily pressure and dizzying feeling you felt when it first ensnared all of you starts to raise again, like a slumbering snake coming back from its sleep.

“Annoying little monster, that one,” Salicera scoff. She looks down as a skeletal hand reaches out from the ground to grab at its ankle. Cracking the dried, almost vitrified layer of dirt, a skeleton raises from the grave to attack her —

[cont.]
>>
>>6025473
>>6025509
>1 post by this ID
hmm
>>
>>6025539

She flicks her wrist and the tip of her longsword hits the skeleton’s skull, embedding itself deep into it. She sneers as she swings her sword, breaking the skeleton in two. She pats at her ankle, prying off the broken hand.

“I must be getting tired. What a lame strike.”

Then she takes a step towards the tree and her stance changes. From relaxed as it was, she is now focused, sharp and keen. She holds her longsword in front of her, the tip level with her eyes, her shoulders lightly hunched. Step after slow step, you can see how she pushes her weight into each stride, ready to use her own momentum to strengthen each swing.

Oh, you are most definitely jealous — and she could have at least patched the holes in her dress, because her clothing exposes her right upper thigh and it’s—

You exhale a long breath through your nose.

Let’s calm down.

You walk ahead at a brisk pace, your axe held at your side, checking for places where more skeletal hands might rise and grasp at you. You share a look with Salicera and she allows you to take the lead. You are the Vanguard after all. The striker.

The walking target, someone might say.

“How do we take that thing off the ground?” You ask her, without turning away, as you two slowly approach the tree, walking in a zig-zag line, approaching, crossing over, and then withdrawing, never spending more than one step in close vicinity.

“Beats me,” Salicera chuckles. “But I suppose that if we hit it hard enough it might stop being a pro—” she grunts as all of a sudden she’s bumping into you. You two blink and look at each other.

You were a few paces apart and then she bumped right against you.

“Annoying, as I said,” Salicera growls. Her grip on her sword tightens. “Let’s strike together before it has time to do more of its tricks. What do you say?”

>charge at the Malostromo right now, before it has more time to recover from the Sanction (you two get a free combat roll).

>wait a bit, checking out its trunk for places where the Sanction hit harder, weak points you two can exploit (you get a check and depending on result a bonus to all subsequent combat rolls).

>write-in

remember you still have the other Sanction saved up. To use it you will still need a majority vote
>>
>>6025544

samefagging is dishonourable behaviour, I trust my players will never stoop to that level.
>>
>>6025548
>wait a bit, checking out its trunk for places where the Sanction hit harder, weak points you two can exploit (you get a check and depending on result a bonus to all subsequent combat rolls).
since we can't uproot it easily, let's get a bonus for combat since our blessing only lasts for one hit
>>
>>6025552
I am >>6019633 if it matters, my ip changed, only ever voted once.
>>6025548
>wait a bit, checking out its trunk for places where the Sanction hit harder, weak points you two can exploit (you get a check and depending on result a bonus to all subsequent combat rolls).
>>6025557
Agreed.
>>
>>6025557
>>6025569

2 for waiting. I'd like to write at least one update shortly, so I am keeping votes open for the next 2 hours
>>
>>6025548
>>wait a bit, checking out its trunk for places where the Sanction hit harder, weak points you two can exploit (you get a check and depending on result a bonus to all subsequent combat rolls).
>>
Rolled 25 + 17 (1d100 + 17)

>>6025557
>>6025569
>>6025863

unanimity

>>6025548

"Wait," you reply to her suggestion, holding out your left arm. "If we charge there is a chance it may make us stumble. Perhaps upon each other's blades."

Salicera frowns. It seems the idea did not even occur to her. That this little slip could become far more dangerous.

"So what..."

"Look at that spot," you suggest pointing your finger at the bark of the huge pale tree. At least it seems your left arm is working perfectly now, even if your wounds are still aching a little.

You aim your finger at the base of the tree, where the black scorch-marks caused by the Sanction are still clearly visible. They criss-cross the bark, still steaming with heat, and they reveal something beneath that makes your stomach lurch. Beneath the bark of the tree you seem to spot... burnt sinews and... meat?

Flesh.

"There's still an open wound there. It may close shortly, but if we charge ahead it could make us impale each other."

For a moment you feel out of ideas. The Malostromo is now trying to use its ability to fold space in ways you wouldn't have supposed before but--

You link your left arm to Salicera's right.

"Can you use your left arm? I'm not good with..."

Salicera is looking at your entwined arms with a weird expression. She's not blushing, or shocked, she's just... stunned.

"If you have a better idea--"

"No. No, it's fine, Madama Candente, I was just... nevermind. Let's do as you suggest."

She nods and you two start to take step after slow step towards the Malostromo, which seems to quiver like seen through candle vapour.

"Hold you arm out. Balance yourself," you say, trying to carefully set one step after another. Then you feel like falling, the terrain shifting beneath your foot an--

"Whoa!" Salicera holds you up. You pivot on yourself, almost spraining your ankle and bumping against her chest.

"T-Thanks," you mutter, looking away.

"Don't mention it," she says, "you would do the same for me."

Slowly advancing, each step more tense than the previous one, you two aim for the malignant tree...

>Roll 5d100+17 (+7 Cameo, +10 linking arms with Salicera) (1 per reply, so each reply rolls 1d100+17), against a DC of 60. To succeed, you must win the roll against the DC at least 3 times out of 5.
>If you beat it 3 times, each of your combat rolls against the Malostromo will receive a +1d6 bonus
>If you beat it 4 times it will be +2d6
>If you bet it every time it will be +4d6


Tomorrow's update may be running a bit late because I will spend most of the day with friends. Now let's see them rolls anon!
>>
Rolled 86 + 17 (1d100 + 17)

>>6025914
>>
Rolled 7 + 17 (1d100 + 17)

>>6025914
what's your roll for ? anyway, the dc it's a little steep for a best of 3 but we'll do it Ansarrà willing.
>>
Rolled 34 + 17 (1d100 + 17)

>>6025914
>>
>>6025975
>>6025979
Another <60 roll and we already lost it. Man the juice definitely wasn’t worth the squeeze for a 1d6 bonus.
>>
Rolled 31 + 17 (1d100 + 17)

>>6025914
We haven't lost yet, have we?
>>
>>6025988
Well, NOW we have.
>>
>>6025975
>>6025979
>>6025988
That’s what we get for trying to be tactical instead of going unga bunga. If the 5th roll beats the 60 maybe we can try using our strike bonus to bump things.
>>
Rolled 50 + 17 (1d100 + 17)

>>6025914
>>
>>6025958
>>6026376
2 successes, so unless we can get some bonus for our 3rd highest roll that’s below 60 we’ll get no attack bonus
>>
Rolled 24 + 17 (1d100 + 17)

>>6025914
>>
Rolled 18 + 17 (1d100 + 17)

>>6025914
>>
Rolled 76, 94, 84 + 66 = 320 (3d100 + 66)

>>6025958
>>6025975
>>6025979
>>6025988
>>6026376

yep, 2 successes, even if dubs got you a +6, you reach 54. Almost there.

>>6025975
my roll is for Salicera. All things considered she's not doing great either.

# # # # # #

>>6025548

"Watch out!" Salicera shouts as space starts to fold around you. You try to keep your balance as the terrain starts to shift beneath your feet. Even linking arms with her, you two barely manage to take a few steps forward. It looks like you won't have the time to study the Malostromo properly, but you at least have a hint from the few moments you managed to glance at its bark.

There must be a weak point. And this cursed tree cannot deal with both of you at the same time.

"This thing... I am really losing my patien-ceeh!" Salicera grunts as she also loses her balance. It is your time to hold onto her, and she's definitely heavier than you. As you keep her close to you, your blades clang, coming far too close to each other.

"Agree," you say, withdrawing your axe. And just as you both try to find stable footing, the ground all around you break as more corpses and skeletons raise from their resting place, all of them wrapped up in off-white roots and brambles, pulling on their limbs like strings. They reach for you, their only weapons their talons and teeth, but there's five... six, no more of them, coming at you from every direction.

"Candente," Salicera sighs, holding up her longsword. "I may have an idea. Would you mind staying still for a few moments? I want to check on something."

You frown, but you don't really have time to answer. The corpses are coming closer, and Salicera's face hardens into stern focus. She shuts her eyes, takes a long breath, and when she opens them again, the corpses are almost on you.

"Let's see if I can make this quick." She detaches her arm from you and she jumps in the air and--

Salicera rolls, must beat 2 out of 3, DC 80
>>
>>6026779
nice
>>
Rolled 63, 7, 17 + 66 = 153 (3d100 + 66)

>>6026779

Salicera rises in the air, swings her longsword and the space between you turns into a whirlwind of steel and shattered bones. Her sword crashes skulls and cuts through spines. She comes to rest next to you and take a few stumbling steps away, trying to balance herself out as the ground shakes beneath her feet while you--

Wait. Your steps are stable. It feels so weird after all the work you did trying to stay on two feet that you feel like actually losing your balance for a moment, like when you miss a step running downstairs.

You blink and understand her plan.

"I will try and keep them busy. While that thing is focused on making my life a living hell, you get there and do what our vanguard does best." She tilts her head towards the tree.

A living hell?

"Right," you don't comment on her words choice, taking a tentative step while she swings her sword again, dispatching the third corpse that was approaching her, while the others have completely forgotten about you.

It makes sense. Like before, when you tried to attack the skeletons and the forest to try and reach Soralisa, they attempted to stop you. It reacts, like a spider attracted to the vibration of its web.

"There is a Knight of Ansàrra full of blood here! Come and get it!" She shouts dashing at the closest corpse. She kicks it in its chest and cleaves the head straight off its shoulders with her sword.

You turn and start walking towards the tree. As you do so, the other corpses completely ignore you, aiming for Salicera who is trying to make as much noise as she can, between her jumps, shouts and strikes. And as the spider is attracted to the steel fly in its web, you hope it can be made oblivious to the axe raising to fall upon its back.

You are at about ten paces away from the tree now, and for the first time it hits you just how large it is, looming over you. It must be thirty paces high and at least fifteen wide. But it's still bleeding, the wounds from the Sanction fuming.

With Soralisa's help, you will be able to deal a definite blow. And as long as Salicera manages to keep the other skeletons at bay... you have time to decide where to strike. It's likely that the moment you attack it, the tree will focus all its might on you.

>Climb on the roots and the bark and get as close as you can to the open wounds. You have lost your backpack and its burning spirits, but you might be able to petition for a Sanction and burn the tree from the inside.

>Reach for the closest wound and check the inside. Maybe there is something like a heart inside it? A weak point you can exploit...

>The Sanction hit it hard, but it's clear it was able to defend itself from it by using its ability to fold space. Now that it's distracted... well, your axe hums with the power of your first Sanction.

Salicera keeps rolling for combat in the background, must beat 2 out of 3, DC 85

# # # # # #

Discuss your strategy. Next update in 15 hours.
>>
>>6026790
>Reach for the closest wound and check the inside. Maybe there is something like a heart inside it? A weak point you can exploit...
2nd time's the charm
>>
>>6026790
>The Sanction hit it hard, but it's clear it was able to defend itself from it by using its ability to fold space. Now that it's distracted... well, your axe hums with the power of your first Sanction.
>>
>>6026790
>The Sanction hit it hard, but it's clear it was able to defend itself from it by using its ability to fold space. Now that it's distracted... well, your axe hums with the power of your first Sanction.
Beginning to think Salucera being an isekai protagonist isn't completely off base...
>>
>>6026795
check the inside

>>6026809
>>6026813

use the Sanction to strike the tree while it is distracted

there is a majority already but this is an important vote so I am extending the vote window by 120 mins.
>>
>>6026790
>The Sanction hit it hard, but it's clear it was able to defend itself from it by using its ability to fold space. Now that it's distracted... well, your axe hums with the power of your first Sanction.
>>
>>6026790
>Reach for the closest wound and check the inside. Maybe there is something like a heart inside it? A weak point you can exploit...
>>
Rolled 55 + 12 (1d100 + 12)

>>6027274
>>6027281

Writing!

>>6026790

Just as you thought about Salicera being able to hold her own, her shriek of pain and surprise makes you turn. She is holding onto her weapon, but two of the skeletons have managed to hit her wrist with crude, rusted bones. She has slipped and is standing on just one knee, panting hard as the faint glow of her Oakenbone Sanction is the onyl thing that has protected her from getting her hand severed.

"You think this is enough to... nhnnfh, get rid of me?" She withdraws her wounded hand from the offending blades, spraying her crimson blood against the bones and the ground eagerly rumbles, shaking as the precious liquid bathes it. She takes another stance and gets ready to attack the remaining skeletons. She tosses you a sharp glance and shakes her head.

As if to say: what are you doing here Candente?

She's right.

"Come one, come all..." Salicera growls behind you. "I shall crush your bones one by one!" She jumps towards the closest, holding her longsword with her off-hand.

No more time to think about her. You briefly wonder if you should peer into the wounds as you start to climb the tree, holding your axein your mouth and helping yourself with both hands. The bark is coarse, and it is covered in soot and some other kind of... powder. It feels like touching exposed bone, with its uneven texture, and slightly throbbing, as if from wounded heartbeats of a malignant beast, slumbering in the dark.

You glance at the closest opening, the burned wound opened by Soralisa's botched [i]Effimera Corona[/i]. Even with the Sanction's greatly reduced power, it was enough to penetrate deep into the tree, for at leats three or four palms, and you smell charred skin, the sickly-sweet stench of burnt hair...

But there is another, deeper wound just a few paces ahead. Jumping on the roots, you manage to reach it and that's when you take the axe out of your mouth, and raise your weapon high in the air.

This is it.

Quite the straightforward Sanction, wasn't it? Quite the straightforward petition. Not a favourite of Saint Bragia, as far as legends say, but one oft granted to the other great Saint of Old.

After all, you and Kishirra both spent parts of your life around the Mar da Candéa. In a way, it is fitting.

The tree's power is completely focused on the bait. You cut out Salicera's screams, unsure wether they are from triumph or pain, and you pronounce the words that Saint Kishirra used to utter when she faced Taygete of the Seven Sisters.

[i]"D'oro è corda cce lega, chè no v'è notte sanza Stella, ed all'Alba l'ombra annega."[/i]

You release your Sanction. You feel like your blood turns into liquid fire as the heat wave passes through your arms, your fingers and it sings the edge of the metal. With a faint nose like paper catching fire, the air gasps and holds its breath as the axe's edge brightens to a sickle made of sunlight.

>Best of 3: roll 1d100+22+36 against my roll above.
>>
Rolled 94 + 58 (1d100 + 58)

>>6027349
We got this.
>>
>>6027352

looking respectfully at that roll, anon
>>
Rolled 85 + 58 (1d100 + 58)

>>6027349
>>
Rolled 44 + 58 (1d100 + 58)

>>6027349
fuck it man, even with a +66 bonus we managed to get 2 rolls low enough to fail the dc, but fret not because now we'll rip and tear.
>>
Rolled 10, 98, 27 + 54 = 189 (3d100 + 54)

>>6027352
>>6027373
>>6027382

very impressive indeed. time for your personal daybreak.

also for some reason beyond my understanding, when I upload from workplace the italicized text just refuses to stick.

ignore the rolls above, it's hmmm back office stuff

writing!
>>
>>6027387
Only the thread OP has formatting rights for anything other than spoilers. If posting from a place other than the one you posted the thread from you won't be able to format the text. It is tied to cookies I think. Some say to IP but I've had formatting rights remain across different IPs so long as I was posting from the same PC.
>>
>>6027387
At least Salicera won 2 dcs now
>>
>>6027391
Ah, so that’s why. Disappointing in a way, but thanks a lot for explaining, anon. Every day I shed a little bit of my newfag shell, bit by bit.
>>
>>6027349

Behind her, Salicera stands again, throwing herself at the closest corpse. It’s a mistake. Her longsword glances against an exposed, rust plaque, and she almost loses her grip on it, barely escaping a lunge from another thrall-corpse as it swings its sharp talons at her.

She turns her head at check on Argia, who is climbing the tree, her black-clad figure stark against the off-white bark.

She spits a wad of saliva on the ground, right as one more corpse rises from the soil. This time, though, she’s ready.

A jump, and she plunged her sword deep into the skull, cleaving it in two, bursting shattered bone and white dust all around.

“Come on!” She shouts, swinging her bleeding hand. “Isn’t this what you want? More fresh blood?”

Her taunt gathers more hollow gazes from the empty sockets of the thralls, stumbling towards her, their bodies held together by a dark will and fragments of roots. Soralisa’s reaction when she figured out the presence of the Malostromo was, in retrospect, quite justified.

And to think she wanted to impress both of them once again. Why even bother, after all… but it did feel good, didn’t it? When those two girls, the flesh and blood of the noble houses of the Holy Land, looked up to her in awe. At her martial ability, but also at the way she managed to deal with them.

It was all quite easy. So different from before. She could — she could play them like a fiddle. Probably would have to apply more caution around the Blessed Blind, and, if she ever met her, the Angel of Ansàrra, but Salicera guessed it would still be a long time before she attracted Carnaval’s attention.

Or the Stilladìa’s, for that matter.

Another hand reached for her leg, and she swatted it away with a strike from her sword, sending the hand flying off into the distance.

“Come on. I am all alone. Come and get me.”

She snarled as four of the corpses closed in. She had just beaten a small hill of them, so why was she so tired, why was she making these kind of mistakes…?

Was it because Candente was there?

Unlike the others, the silver-headed girl had never seen smitten with her the way every other person she met was.

Must be because herself had been trained by that renown Maester, Ibardo Dele-something something. But Argia as merely a competent, skilled fighter.

Hardly an equal.

So why wasn’t she looking at her? Why wasn’t she…

And then the night flared.

“Ughh,” Salicera fell on one knee as the golden flash hit her eyes. Covering her face she spared a tentative glance behind her, at the shape of a young woman striking the tree’s side, her axe glistening with the heat and brightness of the dawn.

For a moment, it is as if the image had been embedded onto her retinas. Argia’s face, her righteous fury, the hope rising between her arched eyebrows, glistening in her clear blue eyes.

The brightness disappears, eaten by the tree.

[…]
>>
>>6027349

Your axe strikes the treewound.

The metal hits something you do not truly understand, like a thin film of thicker air, or molten metal perhaps, it feels… fluid. And then the light gets too intense and it’s passing through you, and you can see your bones shining through the golden burst. You have carried the silent overwhelming fury of the dawn right here, and you are setting it alight against the malignant force of the Malostromo.

The streaks of golden light, the explosion that’s searing your eyes passes through it, past its bark, running through its not-flesh and—

— space folds around it, gobbling it up. The tree devours the gilded light. Its wounds creak, no the entire trunk starts to tremble and shake and you lose your grip on the tree, falling on your back.

The tree is rising off the ground. Its roots detach with snapping, creaking noise, and its branches whip into the night air, striking blindly as you feel that oily sensation hit you from every direction at once, and your legs are being pulled apart, and your arms are squashed and your head—

And then just as you feel pain split your head and you tentatively reach for your cameo — oh Bragia Lacresta, was she ever so scared, did she ever feel like this? — there is another sound that rises through the shattered air.

It’s a crackling noise.

One of the swinging branches slows, twitches, and catches fire from the inside. Its bark blackens, cracks, and golden flame spew from the inside. The stench of burnt hair and singed flesh reaches your nostrils, but the familiar flowery scent of grapes, dry earth and the heady richness of fermented wine follows. The scent of summer.

And summer blooms, blooms, blooms, on every branch and on every palm of the trunk.

The tree shrieks, arches, attempts to escape off the hole that was its home for so long, carrying behind itself a trail of devoured bodies and withered corpses caught in its roots, they tumble and roll, caught in the thralldom of folded spaces, but then the three creaks again, and slowly tilts.

The naked branches catch onto each other, like a forest of hands desperately trying to hold onto the glassy wall of night, as it finally does what you did so many times tonight, it tilts and stumbles and falls, crashing on the ground with a great rumbling sound.

One final growl, or perhaps a sigh, a hiss, you couldn’t say, and the pressure against you leaves. You blink.

You are laying on the ground.

The forest, the normal forest of green trees, surrounds you. You and Salicera, who is shaking her head and blinking. Many of the other trees have been destroyed or broken, but the spell is shattered.

You are lying on something hard. It’s the cobblestones of the road.

You have reached the top of the hill. Long ago, and never moved from there.

Taking a long breath, you stand up at last.

The Malostromo is dead.
>>
>>6027416

>You turn towards Salicera. You saw her receive a nasty cut on her wrist, so she might need some help. Also… helping Salicera Forst standig up? Thats going to be a new experience…

>You decide to check out the hole left by the Malostromo’s carcass. Maybe there is something useful down there, or at least you can get a gist of how deep this tumour goes.

>You run to Soralisa, Rubida and the carriage. How is Soralisa faring? You pray she’s fine and her recent strain has not compromised her arms forever…

great rolls out there anons! As you can see Salicera had a less than stellar performance. Let’s see if she recovers her kayfabe.
>>
>>6027410
Hmm... What ARE you, Salicera?

>>6027421

>You turn towards Salicera. You saw her receive a nasty cut on her wrist, so she might need some help. Also… helping Salicera Forst standig up? Thats going to be a new experience…
>>
>>6027421
>You decide to check out the hole left by the Malostromo’s carcass. Maybe there is something useful down there, or at least you can get a gist of how deep this tumour goes.
>>6027498
seems like every girl here has an "itch" of sorts. classic shenanigans.
>>
>>6027508

>every girl here has an itch

what do you mean by that anon? genuinely curious
>>
>>6027421
>You turn towards Salicera. You saw her receive a nasty cut on her wrist, so she might need some help. Also… helping Salicera Forst standig up? Thats going to be a new experience…
>>
>>6027565
>what do you mean by that anon? genuinely curious
yuri moments, like Argia eyeing Sal's exposed thigh for example
>>
>>6027421
>You decide to check out the hole left by the Malostromo’s carcass. Maybe there is something useful down there, or at least you can get a gist of how deep this tumour goes.
>>
>>6027421
>You decide to check out the hole left by the Malostromo’s carcass. Maybe there is something useful down there, or at least you can get a gist of how deep this tumour goes.
>>
>>6027593
Happy Pride Month
>>
>>6027651
this is a- wait a second, we still don't know Ansarrà's views on sexuality yet, so that's a good opportunity to know.
>>
>>6027593
ah, now I get it. you have to admit, they are pretty nice thighs.

>>6027684

>Ansàrra's views on sexuality

who knows what goes on in sun-bathed corridors, anon--
>>
>>6027421
>You decide to check out the hole left by the Malostromo’s carcass. Maybe there is something useful down there, or at least you can get a gist of how deep this tumour goes.
>>
>>6027498
>>6027567

>helping Salicera

>>6027508
>>6027594
>>6027609
>>6028013

>check the hole first

clear majority so far. 60 minutes more for votes and then writing
>>
>>6025552
This was but one of my votes >>6025473 I was also the guy who rolled twice with "Axe Time"
>>6027421
>You turn towards Salicera. You saw her receive a nasty cut on her wrist, so she might need some help. Also… helping Salicera Forst standig up? Thats going to be a new experience…
BITCHES BE GAY. GOOD FOR THEM. GOOD FOR THEM
>>
>>6028163
thank you for explaining anon

>bitches be gay

at this point it may be a definite possibility. also there is a future storyline of dungeon exploration starring Argia and two other characters she has... eye-opening experiences with. but that can only happen if you manage to keep her alive--
>>
>>6028163
>BITCHES BE GAY. GOOD FOR THEM. GOOD FOR THEM
june really has activated some sleeper agents
>>
>>6027416

Now that the world has stopped spinning and the malignant tree’s power is broken, you can take a few breaths. The corpse of the tree lays motionless, save for the occasional crackle or snap as the fire keeps consuming it from the inside. Sparkles and ribbons of faint golden light keep rising into the night air, shimmering against the sphere of Fixed Stars.

You wonder if among those are the souls of the poor sods devoured by the Malostromo.

While the world goes back to making sense, you turn back towards the others, which are all looking at the pale tree, and that is when you see it.

A masonry tower, without window, without doors, reaching high above the treeline to scrape at the stars, a black emptiness that seems to taunt the bathing silver glow of the silver ring that cleaves the night in two.

You frown. You were expecting a well. Not a tower.

You ought to discuss this with the others. It’s clear now that the Malostromo hid so much more from sight than the few rumours and whispers you heard, the same that brought the four of you here.

You, and the Blessed Blind. Wonder why the presence of such a high-ranking mystic was required for what ought to be a training mission.

You reach the rim of the hole left open when the tree fell, a few of its roots still sticking out of the emptiness.

It’s dark.

It’s deep. You’d say about half as deep as the tree was tall. In the silvery light you can make out the shapes of tangled bodies, limbs, empty sockets looking up for salvation. The remains of dozens, perhaps hundreds of people who fell to despair, lost their way in the labyrinth created by the tree.

You wonder if you might have been one of them. This area is plagued by smugglers and bandits, but as Master taught you, there are many others who try to cross these paths and enter the Holy Land without permission.

People from the Treviri Throne, freed slaves from the sifting south, new believers from Frigeìa… disenfranchised families from the Mar da Candéa.

People like you.

You raise your right hand in the usual blessing sign.

It’s not much. But it’s the best you can do for now.

Just as you are about to turn, you notice a sharp glint close to the opposite lip of the hole: there’s something embedded inside the dirt and roots.

You make out the edge of a blade. It’s too far to clearly understand what it may be, but you have a hint it’s something… unusual.

“Why does it have to be so bright—” comes Salicera’s voice behind you and you jump.

You did not hear her approach.

“It’s a big hole,” she comments, scraping her boot against the lip and pushing a rock down the depths.

“Let’s go back to Soralisa,” you say turning back towards the chariot.

“Sure. Wait, is that a tower? Was it always there?”
>>
>>6028222

uh, look mama, trips!


>The weapon inside the hole is a longsword. Its edge is sharp tetraceramide, etched with Kiengiri symbols. [Combat rolls of 98-100 are now automatic successes]

>The weapon inside the hole is a longsword. Its edge is pale Maduan tetraceramide, like the plaques inside your brigandine, but this looks of far superior quality. [Combat rolls of 97-100 are now automatic successes]

>The Malostromo holds in its roots a light estoc. The exquisite workmanship of its edge and decorations show it’s been made in Frigeìa. [+5 to all combat rolls, -2 to all social checks with faithfuls of Ansàrra and -1 to checks where the cameo is involved]

>You clearly remember the familiar curve of an axe, but the ringlight shone on very thin layer of utter blackness. Could it be… Kiengiri blindglass, like your Master’s weapon? [+1 to all checks involving the cameo, +2 to all social checks involving people of Ansàrra’s faith. The combat properties of blindglass are mysterious and you will need training to understand them, but you remember it being exceedingly sharp and resistant]


this is another vote that requires clear majority. If we achieve one in a few hours I may be able to write the next update right after.
>>
>>6028240
ignore the first greentext line on the post, sorry. Forgot to edit it out.
>>
>>6028240
>You clearly remember the familiar curve of an axe, but the ringlight shone on very thin layer of utter blackness. Could it be… Kiengiri blindglass, like your Master’s weapon? [+1 to all checks involving the cameo, +2 to all social checks involving people of Ansàrra’s faith. The combat properties of blindglass are mysterious and you will need training to understand them, but you remember it being exceedingly sharp and resistant]
>>
>>6027985
>who knows what goes on in sun-bathed corridors, anon--
is that a reference to something ?
>>6028240
>The weapon inside the hole is a longsword. Its edge is sharp tetraceramide, etched with Kiengiri symbols. [Combat rolls of 98-100 are now automatic successes]
longsword time, let's make use of our better skill with it. btw what are the differences from the 1st one to the 2nd 'coz rn it looks like the 2nd would be better for automatic success.
>>
>>6028240
>The weapon inside the hole is a longsword. Its edge is pale Maduan tetraceramide, like the plaques inside your brigandine, but this looks of far superior quality. [Combat rolls of 97-100 are now automatic successes]
>>
>>6028345
I just typed the first and forgot to erase it before uploading the reply. retardo QM strikes again

>reference

maybe
>>
>>6028379
So the 1st option doesn’t exist or the 1st and 2nd are the same ?
Also, I wanna know the reference
>>
>>6028240
>>The weapon inside the hole is a longsword. Its edge is pale Maduan tetraceramide, like the plaques inside your brigandine, but this looks of far superior quality. [Combat rolls of 97-100 are now automatic successes]
>>
>>6028214
I was never sleeping, anon.

>>6028240
>You clearly remember the familiar curve of an axe, but the ringlight shone on very thin layer of utter blackness. Could it be… Kiengiri blindglass, like your Master’s weapon? [+1 to all checks involving the cameo, +2 to all social checks involving people of Ansàrra’s faith. The combat properties of blindglass are mysterious and you will need training to understand them, but you remember it being exceedingly sharp and resistant]
As if I could pick anything else than the thematically perfect holy mystery axe!
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>>6028396
second option supersedes the first
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>>6028427
But this is second option?
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>>6028431
yes, the 97-100
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>>6028435
Me no understand
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>>6028316
>>6028411

2 for axe

>>6028345
>>6028351
>>6028396

3 for longsword

120 minutes and then voting shuts down. think carefully about this one, anon.
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>>6028436

these are the only three valid options:

>The weapon inside the hole is a longsword. Its edge is pale Maduan tetraceramide, like the plaques inside your brigandine, but this looks of far superior quality. [Combat rolls of 97-100 are now automatic successes]

>The Malostromo holds in its roots a light estoc. The exquisite workmanship of its edge and decorations show it’s been made in Frigeìa. [+5 to all combat rolls, -2 to all social checks with faithfuls of Ansàrra and -1 to checks where the cameo is involved]

>You clearly remember the familiar curve of an axe, but the ringlight shone on very thin layer of utter blackness. Could it be… Kiengiri blindglass, like your Master’s weapon? [+1 to all checks involving the cameo, +2 to all social checks involving people of Ansàrra’s faith. The combat properties of blindglass are mysterious and you will need training to understand them, but you remember it being exceedingly sharp and resistant]

please pick one. if you haven't voted yet, you have 120 more minutes to do so.
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>>6015895
>Disappearing Hogwarts

Well you got a new reader right there. Fav quest right now, top 5 for all time, maybe.
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>>6028450
hello new anon!

>favourite quest

you mean DH Quest?
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>>6028240
>The weapon inside the hole is a longsword. Its edge is pale Maduan tetraceramide, like the plaques inside your brigandine, but this looks of far superior quality. [Combat rolls of 97-100 are now automatic successes]
>>
>>6028534

+1 for longsword, so at this point it's the clear winner with 4 against 2 votes. Writing!
>>
>>6028240

You two go back to what passes for a camp. The martial chaplain is already huffing as he pushes fallen trunks away, helping the carriage advance and building a perimeter.

The horses are all antsy, but they seem more relaxed than before, now that you and Salicera deal with the Malostromo.

"How is she?" Asks Salicera, beating you to the question and crouching next to Rubida, who is still cradling her in her arms.

"She has not gotten much worse, at least. Though it may be a little too soon to raise prayers to the Sun-Birther."

You frown, as it is never too early to reach to Ansàrra, but you bite your lips, crouching on Soralisa as well. Her brown eyes are dull and shivering, but she looks at you and she tries to smile. Her arms are charred, the skin, which used to look like charcoal, keeps flaking off and the layer beneath is slick and shiny like black crystal.

"Y-You d-did it," she mutters.

"We all did," you reply, reaching out to gently touch her hand. It feels cold. And far too hard. "Without Salicera I would not have reached the tree in time. And without you... without you we wouldn't even be here."

And Rubida was there as well, you suppose.

"'tis not," she protests shaking her head. "I was foolish. Afraid. So scared, I--"

"Nevermind now," Salicera brushes her hand against Soralisa's shoulder. "That is in the past."

And speaking of the present, you glance behind the trees at the shape of the tower extending against the night. The base looks weird, though. Is it a trick of your eyes or...

"Salicera," you ask tilting your head. "Do you see what I see? The base of the tower?"

She squints, her grey-bown eyes peering through the night. She always had the best night vision amongst you four. By far.

"You are right. Some of the masonry is floating. It's like the tower is building itself from the top down." She pauses and glances at the martial chaplain who is passing her a gauze.

"Get that wrist looked at, lady-in-wait."

"I almost forgot," she mutters, blushing slightly as she wraps the gauze around her wrist. You feel a little pang of guilt. You should have insisted to have Salicera looked at, not wondering about what shiny new weapon you could acquire... admitted you even have the rights to pick up some dead man's treasure.

You should probably talk about it with the--

"Argia Candente." The metal window of the carriage grinds open again. A shadowed face appears and all of you cover your eyes in sign of respect. "Bring her inside." The Blessed Blind shuts the window immediately and you reach out for Soralisa, slowly picking her up.

"I will give you a hand," Rubida says, helping you.

"Thanks," you mutter.

"Did I hear something?"

"Must have been the night breeze," you reply.

[cont.]
>>
>>6028614

Rubida clicks her tongue, seemingly amused, as she gently helps you carry a groaning Soralisa inside the carriage. Your heart thumps against your chest. You have been invited inside the Blessed Blind's quarters. Might be a good chance to ask her a few questions...

"It's not a tower," whispers Rubida.

"What?"

"It's not. A tower." She licks her lips, her face turning a little paler. "I have felt this before. You now know what I mean."

Your mind goes back to her tale and your eyes shift to her right arm, as always concealed.

"We expected a well of some sort. But I suppose the Malostromo..."

"No, don't you understand? Those rumors were true." Rubida stops in front of the carriage and helps a feverish Soralisa wrap her arms around your neck. She leans forward, close enough her breath tickles your ear. "It is indeed a well. A normal well reaches into the ground to extract water, doesn't it?"

You collect the dots, and you feel the weight of what she means crashing upon your shoulders.

Not for the last time you wish Master was there, but for the very first time... it's because you feel a tinge of fear. Even with the Malostromo, you were confident you could beat it. It was what happened, after all.

"And this well it reaches up into the night," you whisper, making sure Soralisa does not hear you.

Rubida sighs, running her fingers through the hair of your crestfallen companion.

"The Night is all around us." Her deep blue eyes linger on your chest.

No, rather on your cameo, stark against the black of your brigandine.

"That little thing is worth twice your price in gold. Say a prayer for me?" She asks, then shakes her head and turns away. "Forget what I said. Just do your duty, Candente."

You watch her leave and sit next to Salicera, who has looked at your interaction with a keen gaze. As Rubida reaches her, they both fall into their supposed roles, Rubida lamenting your situation and Salicera reassuring she can trust in her skill.

You are far from sure but... perhaps it feels like in this strange dance, the dance you never received proper instructions to --

Might it be a pantomime for others as well?

You blink as the idea streaks across your mind like a blazing comet.

Then you frown and take the first step on the creaking steps leading to the carriage's door.

"Absurd."

You'd better focus on your meeting with the Blessed Blind... and what you may ask her.

>Choose 3 of the following:

>Ask how you can better approach what's coming. This looks like something more than a simple training mission.

>Ak her about picking up the sword you saw in the hole left by the tree. She can make sure it is proper for you to claim it as your own.

>Ask about Salicera. Where does she come from? Why were you assigned to her unit?

>Ask about your cameo. Is it true you can feel your bond with Saint Bragia becoming stronger?

>Write in your own question...
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>>6028453
Yeah though yours is shaping up to be very nice so far. Good writing and fights. Iffy on the gey, but just because I have seen so many lesbian protags over the years.
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>>6028627
>Ak her about picking up the sword you saw in the hole left by the tree. She can make sure it is proper for you to claim it as your own.

>Ask about your cameo. Is it true you can feel your bond with Saint Bragia becoming stronger?

>Ask how you can better approach what's coming. This looks like something more than a simple training mission.
>>
>>6028629

DHQ is truly among the best. Agreed.

>very nice, good writing and fights

thanks! I hope I can improve further as I learn.

>so many lesbians protags

I actually understand. I have written and published yuri novels in the past and it has been fun, but I am slowly moving towards broader topics right now. I enjoy the genre but I don't want to become a one-trick pony. My next work may involve something different. Apologies for the blog. And thanks a lot for playing!
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>>6028627
>Ask how you can better approach what's coming. This looks like something more than a simple training mission.
>Ak her about picking up the sword you saw in the hole left by the tree. She can make sure it is proper for you to claim it as your own.
>Ask about your cameo. Is it true you can feel your bond with Saint Bragia becoming stronger?
>>6028640
>spoiler
damn, we may have the first lesbian qm in /qts/ here. jokes aside, would you mind linking where we could see your other works ?
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>>6028627
>Ask how you can better approach what's coming. This looks like something more than a simple training mission.

>Ak her about picking up the sword you saw in the hole left by the tree. She can make sure it is proper for you to claim it as your own.

>Ask about your cameo. Is it true you can feel your bond with Saint Bragia becoming stronger?

There will be no yuri this time. Not on my watch!
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>>6028646

I'll link one of the novels I wrote under a different pen name below. It's also tied to the same world (it's set around 13 centuries before Silver Knight Quest) and it actually stars Kishirra in her prime. Watch out for Elves, tho.

>https://www.royalroad.com/fiction/75136/reborn-reedsmith-and-elven-knight

if you'd rather check out something different, there's also a webnovel set on a post-apocalyptic Earth which has been overrun by the Fae. The protagonist is a Hunter who must bring back a fugitive girl who bleeds silver and has wolf ears, all just to keep his wife dead.

>https://authormontresor.com/patina-about/

thanks for asking!
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>>6028660
>It's also tied to the same world (it's set around 13 centuries before Silver Knight Quest)
I can see that the mc there has the same surname as our teacher, interesting
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>>6028669
I'm sure it's just a coincidence
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>>6028601
>not commiting to the axe
Shameful. Shameful! Seems like a cool sword, though.

>>6028627
>Ask how you can better approach what's coming. This looks like something more than a simple training mission.

>Ask her about herself. Why was The Blessed Blind sent on such a seemingly-mundane mission? Did they know about this 'night-well'?

>Ask about Salicera. Where does she come from? Why were you assigned to her unit?
>>
>>6028756
>ask her about herself

interesting question anon.

180 minutes left for voting!
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>>6028634
>>6028646
>>6028656
>>6028756

>Ask about the mission 4 votes
>Ask about the sword 3 votes
>Ask about the Cameo 3 votes
>Ask about Salicera 1 vote
>Ask about herself 1 vote (write-in suggestion)

Clear majority. This seems to be shaping up as an interesting interaction. Writing!
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>>6028627

Still cradling Soralisa in your arms, you knock softly on the door, which opens without anyone being there on the threshold to move it. You step into the carriage, lowering your head on your way in, as you focus on your own feet, on Soralisa, on the creaky wooden floor.

The door closes behind you, leaving you inside the private quarters, smelling like incense and wax and ink and paper. It reminds you of the smell of the Flame-Temples in Madua.

“You can look,” comes the instruction.

“I was told it would be disrespectful to—”

“I have the last word on what disrespect is, Argia Candente,” she replies sternly. “Now take her here, and lay her on the table.”

“As you wish,” you agree, finally raising your gaze.

The Blessed Blind is a small woman. She might not even reach your shoulders. You would have expected her to be older, but she looks to be just a few years your senior. Then again, looks are the most deceiving thing. Carnaval, you have been told, also appears ageless.

The Blessed Blind’s hair is dark, not exactly the almost-Kiengir sheer black of Rubida, but she does look Maduan, with her pale skin and thin frame. She wears no clothes — instead she is wrapped in an endless collection of gauzes, which cover her from the neck to her toes, inscribed in gold.

Your heart skips a beat as your gaze touches the gilded inscriptions.

That is not ink.

The shimmering gold that seems to catch the light and burn with some sort of secret heat even when the Blessed Blind stays still — that is Ansàrra’s own blood. The golden ichor that spills from her wounds. Those gauzes have touched her onyx skin.

A tiny part of you feels triumph at the sight. If you were truly an agent of the Adversary, merely standing so close to Her hallowed blood would have you catch fire like tinder during dry summer.

Instead, you advance to the large table the Blessed Blind instructed you to, and you slowly lay Soralisa on it. A few ink stains show the spots where they fell when the carriage broke down. It feels like an age ago.

Soralisa glances at the gauze-covered woman as she slowly sets herself behind the lady-in-wait, putting her hands over Soralisa’s arms, brushing her bandaged fingers over the crystallised flesh.

You dare to study the Blessed Blind’s face. She frowns slightly as she studies Soralisa’s wounds. The skin surrounding her eyes has been carbonised, the burnt skin raises from her face like a film of broiling oil. Her eyes, or rather where her eyes used to be, are two dark cavities filled with a barely-perceptible glow. On her forehead, the mystic bears eight scars, from her right temple all the way to the middle, like tallies on a half-finished sundial.

Astoria di Ottava Ora.

[Cont.]
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>>6029270

“Your friend’s fealty is commendable,” she hums. “Her foolishness less so.”

Astoria shakes her head and reaches for her wrist, starting to untie a strip of her gauzes. When she has withdrawn a full length of the hallowed cloth, she starts to wrap it around Soralisa’s arm, starting with her wrist. Her fingers work too fast and with too much precision for someone whose eyes have been offered, and you cannot stifle a strange sense of reverence and dread as her long fingers wrap the tissue over Soralisa’s sheer-black arms.

“But she also seems to have a fool’s luck,” she adds as her tone loses a bit of its bite. “That Sanction could have burned her to a cinder, and she would have been nothing more than a stain on the ground and a painful memory.”

“Will she—” the words catch in your throat.

“Live?” Astoria’s other hand reaches for Soralisa’s forehead and as her palm touches it, your first friend’s neck loses its tightness and she lulls into a peaceful slumber. “She shall. As for the ability to use her arms… that is more up to the Sun-Birther than to us. I do what I can.”

She finishes wrapping one arm and she starts to work on the second. As she takes off more and more gauzes, you can see her body seems also covered in scars. Some of them are still fresh, almost open wounds.

How is that possible? The hallowed gauzes would heal any sort of—

You bite your lips and avert your eyes. Certain mysteries are not to be contemplated.

“That is finished,” the Blessed Blind states as she reaches up to Soralisa’s forearm, where her skin is still untouched. “Your friend will need to rest until dawn, and perhaps a little later. Say a prayer for her.”

“I will,” you reply.

Silence stretches between you two and you wonder if it would be the right moment to ask her one of the questions that have been hammering at your head. What about the mission, for example? Her presence here, the trap of the Malostromo… and the well that was not a well, except Rubida’s words did seem to make a lot of sense…

And what about the sword? That might come in handy, provided you do have the rights to claim it… not to mention your growing connection to the Cameo.

You tentatively glance at the Blessed Blind. Wonder why she is even here… and did she know about this situation? How far did the investigation go befor—

Your trail of thoughts stops as you notice the thin smile that’s appeared on her lips.

“You wonder why I am here,” she states.

“I—”

“As for your second question, no. I cannot read minds, that is the province of higher Powers,” she adds with a tinge of mirth in her voice. “But you have a tendency to lose yourself in your own thoughts, Argia Candente, and your body speaks louder than your tongue.”

Heat prickles at your cheeks as you try to stand motionless, giving away nothing.

The Blessed Blind chuckles.

[cont.]
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>>6029279

“It is not a lady-in-wait’s province to ask what is beyond her stature. My presence here has been decided, that ought to be enough. That said, I suppose I can answer three questions,” she says, sitting on a nearby chair. “You may sit down, Madama Candente.”

“Y-Yes.” Embarrassed, you reach for the closest chair, throwing a look at Soralisa. She seems peaceful, almost rested. You silently send a prayer to Ansàrra. May her arms be saved.

“I was wondering, uh, I have been in fact wondering…” the questions rake against your mind. You have so many.

But there are three that cry out louder than others.

Still, you have a feeling that you’d better choose your words carefully. If Astoria does not like one of your questions, her kindness may quickly sour. Your rub your hands as you decide which question to ask first…

>ask her about the sword
>ask her about your Cameo
>ask her about the mission

The order by which you will choose to ask the first and second question will put Astoria into a more forgiving and open mood, or a harsher and more impatient one. Like before, you should think carefully about how to approach this.

Also, I hate being interrupted at work while I’m /qst/ing. Don’t these people know I’m a QM on a Vietnamese basket weaving forum? The nerve, desu
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>>6029292
>ask her about your Cameo
1
>ask her about the mission
2
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>>6029292
>>6029309
Support.

>>6028660
Damn, I will check them out. Very nifty.
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>>6029358
let me know what you think when you do, anon. Greatly appreciated!
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>>6029292
>>ask her about the sword
1

>>ask her about the mission
2
>>
>>6029309
>>6029358
>>6029392

interesting thinking so far. This is a vote that can have deep consequences so I will leave voting window open for the next 16 hours. If you have any doubts or question of course you can ask.
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>>6029309
>+1
>>6029270
>The shimmering gold that seems to catch the light and burn with some sort of secret heat even when the Blessed Blind stays still — that is Ansàrra’s own blood. The golden ichor that spills from her wounds. Those gauzes have touched her onyx skin.
wait, so the goddess has a physical body in the setting ?
>>
>>6029309
+1

>>6029292
I feel you about work interruptions.
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>>6029450
>wait, so the goddess has a physical body in the setting ?
Unless it'a a transsubstantiation thing?
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>>6029450
>>6029466

lore bits:

>Transubstantiation
While there is certainly a lot of eschatological influence in my writing (not all of it Christian), there is no Transubstantiation in Ansàrra. This is both for lore reasons and thematic reasons, of which I cannot provide here a full explanation to avoid obvious spoilers.

>physical body

Ansàrra does have a physical body. In order to grant Sanctions and healing She has to let them run through her body first. This is what Argia means when she refers to wounds appearing on Ansàrra's body. She has been locked in a constant, never-ending cycle of agony and healing for the past sixteen centuries, since the very few days after the Epochalypse. She used to be far more active and even walk in the land of Madua and abroad, but the emotional wounds from the murder of Saint Bragia and the physical strain from the very first battle with the Stilladìa left Her broken. She has been tended to since then by the Sunseekers, which are the highest level of mystics living in Madua, just a step removed from Carnaval herself. They bathe Her, clean Her body, tend to Her wounds with the gauzes you have seen, which are made from melagrata peel (pic related) and then collect the stained gauzes as prized relics. They are used both as instruments of healing (as you have just seen Astoria do with Soralisa) and retribution.
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>>6029479
>physical body spoiler
so it's like the God-Emperor after fighting Horus, minus having to sacrifice people to keep herself alive. btw is that Carnival guy a saint ?
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>>6029507

>a saint

Carnaval is a girl. Not exactly a saint, she's an angel, wings and all.

There are other Saints but most people vote themselves to either Bragia or Kishirra, mostly due to their pervasive and long-lasting cult. Nobody knows where Carnaval came from, she just popped up one day about 150 years before the start of the quest.
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>>6029479
Some truly fascinating lore. Thanks for the insight! You've put a lot of thought into the setting, obviously. It's appreciated.
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>>6029510
>Carnaval is a girl. Not exactly a saint, she's an angel, wings and all.
nice
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>>6029512
thanks a lot anon! now I'm blushing brighter than my lava lamp

>>6029514

you may meet her sooner than you think.
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>>6029517
You deserve, the lore really is more elaborated then what you expect for a first time qm. Also can’t wait to meet her.
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>>6029520
thanks anon! So... how about an early meetup?
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>>6029292

This little piece takes place while you are having your conversation with the Blessed Blind. Treat it as an extra bit of story. Your votes still count and please keep voting to continue the story. It's just that tonight the Muse wouldn't stop scraping at my knees and I had to listen to her.

# # # # # #

The soldiers shout and the cannons roar. Amidst the screams, the yells and the sweat and blood, and the zesty scent of coronite going up in the air, amidst the ranks of tired men yelling orders and running back and forth, their fingers and swords and crossbows all trained at the fortress they believed would fall, she walks.

Nobody notices her.

Perhaps they are all a bit too preoccupied with their battle, but she does make for an alluring figure, even if it’s just a petite and slender woman. For one thing, she’s utterly naked, from the tip of her white-haired head all the way to her calves. Her skin is pale like ceramic and cracked like fallen porcelain. Her crimson eyes are trained on the ground and she looks deep in thought. One of her pale hands reaches for her black horns, jutting out of the sides of her head, curving like upside-down question marks.

Between the frame of her black horns glistens an upside-down rosette — five petals of glowing silver light, strangely bright, so bright that if you’d look at them you’d feel like going blind. They dance and pulsate, made out of thirty thousand and five hundred sixty six… no, wait.

Sixty seven, to be precise. Her very latest acquisition roams amidst the others as the Stilladìa cocks her head as if to listen to something only she can hear. A light frown appear between her white eyebrows, but then she keeps walking, side-stepping the soldiers and the commandants, skipping over the cannons and the strewn bodies like a trout amidst the current.

Just as she walks away from the siege, the men around her grow agitated. Something is coming out of the fortress. The fortress they believed already fallen. They pictured themselves victorious, already looking forward to rape and pillage.

But now, from the cracked walls of the forest, something lurks forth. A sifting wind carries a black miasma, a slithering cloud that spreads from the heart of the castle, scouring past any defence.

Her crimson eyes shift towards an Echorist, surely hired help from the Mar da Candéa, clad in his grey and gold robes, raising his hands as he tries to reach out to his Echo. Her trained sight perfectly sees the invisible, contorted remnant of the Kiengir soul who tries desperately to grasp at a single more moment of life. The tortured soul seems to expand past the body of its container, extending its influence to try and contain her handiwork.

Can’t really have that, can we?

“My credibility would be greatly jeopardised,” she mutters to herself as she raises a single black-nailed finger.

Plus, her customer paid in advance.

[cont.]
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>>6029589

The Echorist, already gathering onto the power of the excavated soul to try and hinder her little cloud of miasma, chokes as a few blood vessels inside his brain burst out like flaring stars, as fierce and vermillion as ephemeral, painting the inside of his head red. And soon enough, his lips and nostrils and the ground, when he falls forward, shuddering and choking, the ensnared soul tugging at its bindings to not follow him into death.

It’s a short struggle.

“Apologies,” she shrugs, and moves on, faster than even the cloud as it starts to eat through iron and stone, and reduces the fierce men who were already climbing the walls to choked corpses for the crows to feast upon. Bit by bit, morale chips, cracks, shatters in a thousand screaming pieces. Every man for himself. Those who are too slow or too wounded or too encumbered fall on their knees, holding onto their necks as their eyes pop and their tongues grow thick and black, murmuring names with their last breaths.

Some of them, as she expects, gasp on the name of Ansàrra.

Her eyebrows crease.

“Did not help you then, will not help you now,” she murmurs as she shakes her head and leaves the battlefield behind her, walking towards a nearby hill, where a solitary oak shifts under the wind.

Someone has mysteriously already prepared a small round table, a pair of wooden chairs and also a few cups of tea and sweets.
The Stilladìa smiles for the second time since she has struck her latest deal, but it’s not a triumphant grin, much more of a soft smile.

“You will end up spoiling me,” she sighs as she sits on one the chairs.

The dancing shadows of the tree and the table ripple and darken, and from them raises a sheer-black liquid form, which then takes a the more defined shape of a tall man, broad-shouldered and with a pair of golden lights where his eyes should be. His face of utter darkness forms a soft smile as he puts his lips and he takes one of the hands of the Stilladìa in his own, setting a kiss upon her alabaster skin.

“It has yet to happen after six centuries,” Helias retorts, sitting next to her on the other chair, which is to say he coils his shifting, liquid form into the appearance of a pair of legs and starts to pour hot tea for both of them.

Of course, he reaches for her cup first.

“But I will keep trying,” he grins. Then he shifts his gaze towards the battle field, which has grown silent of the noise of cannons and triumph, and where only screams and anguish echo. Hundreds of figures are still twitching on the ground while the grass turns white and the trees crumble under their own dead weight.

His jaw sets.

“Another contract fulfilled,” she explains, reaching out to him. It’s her turn to touch — her hand rests on his shoulder. “He asked to make them suffer. I made it quick.”

Helias sighs and gently squeezes her hand, then brings it to his lips again.

[cont.]
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>>6029591

It’s a conversation they had a thousand times already. For some reason, she feels like she has made no progress since the very first time.

“I know,” he replies. “How did you worm your way out of that request, exactly?”

She allows herself to lean into his grip, the smooth pressure of his skin against hers. Feeling crafty, she slides her fingers against his and entwines their hands.

“I did not! The customer’s satisfaction is my first priority. I did make them suffer. He just never specified for how long, or how much.” A chuckle ripples through her throat. “You would think that after six hundred years, they would grow better at bantering, but… alas.”

He chuckles, finishing to serve tea.

He’s proud of her.
Good.
It feels so good when he’s proud of her.

They both raise their cup and start drinking.

Helias’ golden gaze reaches for the battlefield again, but this time it shifts towards the still-standing fortress, and more precisely, the basalt foundation upon which it rests.

“It’s agreed, then,” he muses. “A pristine Kiengiri crypt. Sealed, until this very day.”

“They had been sitting on it with their stupid castle for thousand of years,” the Stilladìa chuckles. “Access has been granted. Of course, I had to promise you’d leave their home untouched…”

“I could not care less about stones devoid of memory,” he shrugs, his eyes already starting to darken with wonder at what they might find down there.

If her body still had a heart, she would feel it pick up pace now. Sometimes she will have to ask one of her souls to describe the feeling for her again, the memory is starting to fade once again; but in that moment, watching Helias’s focus grow keen, knowing she has furthered both their goals —

It reminds her theirs is a worthy cause.

She rubs her fingers against his. This might just be one of those good days when—

The wind picks up pace. It does so in great regular bouts, growing stronger. Sunlight grows darker, redder. She sees a glint of white and crystal reflected in her tea.

Helias raises his head to source of the noise just as the sound of creaking glass reaches her ears. Each tinkle is like shearing swords.
She sets her teacup back on the table as she cranes her neck to meet the newcomer, which meets her crimson eyes with her own golden ones.

“Hello, Carnaval,” greets her Helias with a faint smile. “I am afraid I only brewed for two.”

[cont.]
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>>6029592

The angel of Ansàrra shakes her bald head as she touches the grass. Around her feet, the grass seems to grow greener. Her huge glass wings crinkle and creak like grinding ice, each of the shards that make up her ‘feathers’ glowing a dark red, like the mouth of a furnace, thick drops of crimson blood bubbling and sifting at the bottom of each shard. The sunlight scatters vermillion around the three of them, like behind a curtain of stained glass from one of the Holy Land’s many cathedrals.

She is naked, like the Stilladìa, but her body is much more voluptuous than hers. Not for the first time, a treacherous and primal part of her tugs at the strings of her mind, demanding she’d call the armageddon of thirty thousand five hundred sixty — seven — souls can.

Though, seriously, at this point she might just call Bradiamante out…

No.

She will behave and hold back her basest instincts.

Still, she does rub Helias’ fingers a tad more insistingly as the Angel of Ansàrra finally opens her mouth.

“I did not come here for tea,” she replies. Hesitates, a glint going off in her gilded eyes. “But I appreciate the offer, Helias Artista.”

“It shall stand for the next time, when it will happen. If,” he graciously adds.

If she could, she’d jump to hug him. He’s so smooth. He’s definitely not going to sleep in his own quarters tonight.

At last, she addresses her.

“We have been investigating the area you two suggested. There may be indeed be activity tied to the Seven Sisters there.”

The Stilladìa nods. Of course they were right. Helias was the one who suggested it they’d inform Carnaval as well.

She had been opposed to it, but… the place was so close to Madua. They would have a much easier time investigating it on their own.

“If that is so, we ought to prepare. I shall send—”

“No need to,” Carnaval grins, showing her glistening smile. “I have already sent an advanced team to explore the area and report.” She pauses. “One of them is a promising young candidate, Salicera Fors.”

The Stilladìa feels like shrugging. Why was her pleasant teatime with her beloved interrupted because Carnaval wants to inform her of all the names of their ladies-in-wait?

“Ah, and there is also one who is believed to be in cahoots with you,” she adds, her grin growing sharper. “Argia Candente.”

[cont.]
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>>6029593

“Never had the pleasure,” the Stilladìa replies.

“Are you sure?” Carnaval tilts her head and gives her one of her quivering looks, the kind of which is usually enough to send an entire army packing home and makes merchants give all of their wealth to charities.

“I am quite sure, Carnaval,” she replies sifting her free hand through her horns, the rosette made of souls rippling around her fingers like a school of fish. “I know each of them by name.”

“Be as it may,” Helias intervenes, “I suppose you would have sent someone… sturdy with your investigative group.”

“Worry not,” Carnaval crosses her arms over her chest as she glances at the Stilladìa once again. “A Blessed Blind is escorting them. A mid-ranking one, but stern and faithful. You wouldn’t know her.”

The Stilladìa shares a look with Helias and when she grins, it is as sharp and as unforgiving as fine print.

“Astoria di Ottava Ora,” she says, and her grins only widens as the look in Carnaval’s eyes. “Two paces and a thumb tall. Has earned six of her Hours quite fast, but the last two have come slow. She has a child she’s quite fond of. She feels stuck, and is clawing at the door for—”

“You don’t have to show off every time,” Carnaval snarls. “It is most definitely not required.”

“Don’t be a spoilsport,” she takes the smallest sip she can off her cup. “Advertising is the soul of every business.”

She rolls her eyes and preens at her wings with her right arm, feigning disinterest.

“Keep your parlour tricks for the fools who fall for them, Star of the Night and Morn.”

“Has worked well enough for me so far. Is there anything else? Can I expect a further meeting when your little group of inquisitors in a steel skirt does not find what they were sent to look for?” She pauses. “Or does find it. Which would be worse.”

“I am in contact with the Blessed Blind…” she sighs. “With Astoria, who you apparently know so well. She is to inform me as soon as the investigation ends. Or it goes downhill. Which I sure hope it does not. I have good souls on this errand you suggested, Stilladìa. Their fate rests on your shoulders.”

“I assure you I am going to lose sleep over this atrocious fact. We shall meet again if this confirms our fears or if—”

“Or if this requires joined intervention,” Helias interjects again.

Carnaval sighs.

“I could find an excuse the first time. You ask me to make up lies upon lies.”

The Stilladìa shrugs.

“Is that not the speciality of your little holy kingdom?”

For a moment, Carnaval’s jaw sets. Her golden eyes glint with fury. The Stilladìa’s own reply with a hint of an ancient and sorrowful awareness, one that is far too worn out to be roused by such flash fires.

“Find one time I went back on my word,” the Stilladìa taunts, drinking the last of her tea.

[cont.]
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>>6029597

Carnaval makes no answer. She folds her wings and takes a few steps away from them, holding her head low.

The Stilladìa and Helias share a look. He squeezes her hand and she sighs.

“If you are worried about Ansàrra—” she begins, but then hesitates, even with Helias’s hand holding her.

There are certain little things, memories, events… hooks that have bitten too deep into her flesh to be taken out.

Surely not to make Carnaval feel better.

“— I am not,” the Angel barks, cutting through both her thoughts and her efforts.
She opens her creaking wings — the grass flashes crimson for a few moments and then she jumps into a shrieking flight, starting to disappear from sight.

The echoes of her glass wings soon disappear as well.

Helias’ thumb rubs circles against the Stilladìa’s palm.

“I cannot…” she sighs. “Nevermind. Ah, your tea has gone cold.”

He drinks and shrugs. She knows it was never about tea, but the brief conversation with Carnaval has greatly soured her mood.

“I want to lay on the grass,” she pleads. Helias nods, picking her up and carrying her for a few paces until he pours her on the ground. She closes her eyes, letting her long flowing hair fall between his hands as he runs his fingers through them, as he brushes her horns.

There has never been one time when he recoiled in disgust from them.

Never once.

She is so grateful. And so very very lucky.

He hugs her from behind, spooning her much smaller body in his comforting, liquid form. His strong arms hold onto her chest and she lets his hands rub at her sides, while one of hers plays with the blades, twirling them between her alabaster fingers, the blind-light that seeps from the thousand cracks of her skin making it look grey.

“It’s tiresome work, making a god obsolete,” she whispers.

[cont.]
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>>6029598

“We have made progress. Even just today—” he starts, but she shakes her head.

“I don’t want to talk about it. Please just hold me.”

He nods and holds her a little closer. Bit by bit, she lets the comfort of his embrace sips into her tortured soul.

She has done nothing to deserve him.

One day —

One day she will be a woman worth of the love he has shown her.

The wind caresses their bodies, carrying the scent of damp earth and fresh grass. She closes her eyes, focusing on the fragrance of smouldering metal that comes from Helias’ body.

It’s calming.

Bit by bit, she forces to open her eyes again.

“We will need to kill them again,” she huffs.

“As it is every cycle.”

“Another tiresome task.”

“Think of it as a chance to do some more training. It’s been a while since you measured up against someone your own size.”

The Stilladìa, to her chagrin, agrees. It’s been years since she got into a good old fistfight with Carnaval. And yet—

“I am not sure you could call the Seven Sisters someone my size,” she mutters.

“You are not alone.”

“Never, thankfully,” she turns to share a warm smile with him. He reaches for her lips and they share a kiss under the oak.

When they separate, the Stilladìa’s eyes go back to Carnaval’s words.

“She mentioned this Salicera Fors as if she expected I’d know her.” She pauses as she moves to the next name. “And the other one. Argia Candente.”

“Candente is not a Maduan name,” Helias points out.

The Stilladìa thinks about it. Bit by bit, her crimson eyes leave the grass and shift towards the horizon, towards the planetary ring that glows silver even in the light of day.

“Indeed.”

# # # # # #

As said, treat this as a little interlude. The Muse got me itching to write something about these three and I wanted to share. Hope you enjoyed this little piece. As said, we resume the adventure from your vote for which questions to ask first. Thanks a lot for playing and the kind words, anon. It's incredibly appreciated. Really. Yo have no idea how much. Still, let me know if in the future you'd rather have these 'lorepasta' pieces, if they do happen again, in link+paste format
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>>6029593
>She is naked, like the Stilladìa, but her body is much more voluptuous than hers. Not for the first time, a treacherous and primal part of her tugs at the strings of her mind, demanding she’d call the armageddon of thirty thousand five hundred sixty — seven — souls can.
Carnaval 'Moggler Stacy'
>>6029605
so not only the Stilladìa left the battle in better shape than Ansarrà, she has a boyfriend and Carnaval has some deal with her. What is going on here ?
btw thanks for the lore dump, OP. You can post them in the thread itself.
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>>6029605
>>6029598
>>6029597
>>6029593
>>6029592
>>6029591
I am intrigued yet, I must admit, a little lost.
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>>6029843
Think we are all to a degree. Probably not meant to get everything they are talking about, so I am just filing this away for future use.

Also, Stilladìa is cute! Cute! I love evil women, and one who is a lovy and submissive with her true love is gap moe of the highest order.
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>>6029733
>what is going on here

maybe you will put together a few more pieces throughout your quest
thank you for reading and enjoying it anon!

>intrigued yet confused

everything is perfectly daijobu anon. as the other anon said, in this phase this is more intended to tease and raise the curtain a little bit. a good explanation is never as good as a little mystery. thanks for reading.

>>6029976

I'd never thought someone would describe the Stilladia as 'peak gap moe' bit thinking about it... it does really fit!

>not meant to get everything right now

perfectly said


also, remember to keep voting for the questions order. Next update in about six hours, give or take. Make it count!
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>>6029309
>>6029358
>>6029450
>>6029464

>cameo first, mission second, sword third

>>6029392

>sword first, mission second, cameo third

clear majority. writing!
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>>6029605

# # # # # #

You rub your hands together, trying to spell words that might actually make sense.

It feels like a harder task than slaying the Malostromo.

Out of habit you reach for your Cameo and thats when it hits you. You have to start with this! May Saint Bragia help you.

"I would l-like to begin with this," you begin by slowly taking off the precious relic. It's the first time you pull it away from your chest since the very first moment Master gave it to you. You immediately feel like there's a lack of warmth, a gaping hole of coolness that spreads between your breasts as the comforting weight of the Cameo is removed. "It was a gift from my Master, Ibardo Delebasse."

"I know who your teacher is," Astoria says curtly, picking up the Cameo when you hand it over. "This looks precious. What about it?"

"I have felt a... connection through it. A connection that's been growing stronger. I cannot explain exactly why, and I would need your insight on it. I am devout to Saint Bragia, but--"

You see Astoria's forehead crease.

"How so?"

"B-Beg your pardon?"

"Why Bragia Lacresta, child?" She asks, weighing the cameo as she roams her bandaged fingers over its surface. "Isn't your Master the head of the Order of Saint Kishirra?"

It had struck you as weird as well, at least at the start, but you have your answer right on your tongue. Trying to sit a little straighter, you try to explain:

"Indeed he is, o Blessed Blind, but I have always felt closer to Saint Bragia, for some..." no, you know exactly why. You sigh and try to collect your thoughts. You can do this. One word at a time, one step at a time, without stumbling, without falling... without making a mess. "Apologies. I meant to say that I have always felt closer to Bragia Lacresta." A faint smile dawns on your lips as you recount. "She was an outsider... as well," you recall pulling your cape a little tighter on your head. "She was also chosen by someone else to be their disciple."

Astoria sighs as she keeps turning your greatest treasure between her fingers.

"Your Master is not the Sun-Birther, lady-in-wait," she points out.

"I would never! But-- t-the way Saint Bragia managed to grow and learn! Don't you think it inspiring? Kishirra was an Elf, but Bragia was just armed with her courage and her faith! She had true companions! Remember Candeloro? And Fratello Cinghia, and Esta Tempestatis..." you can't stop the thin smile on your lips to widen. You knew a little bit about Kishirra and Ansàrra and Bragia even before you met Master, but ever since you started training you devoured every bit of info you could get your hands on about the martyr's history. "If I can become a hundredth of what Bragia was to her friends and to her faith, I will be content."


[cont.]
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>>6030373

For the first time since you have come here, you feel like the Blessed Blind is seeing you -- through you -- and your heart skips a beat as your stomach coils under her scrutiny. You do not lower your gaze. Not when it is about Saint Bragia.

And for the first time, Astoria's smile grows warm.

"Your faith is commendable. The front of the war against the Adversary runs through everyone's heart. It seems yours beats true, Argia Candente." The Blessed Blind reaches out with her other hand to pick a strand of your silver hair out of your cape. "Since birth. Am I right?"

"S-Since birth," you reply.

"Devotion oftentimes runs deeper than any curses," she adds. "But the Adversary's hooks are sharp. Be on your guard."

"Always."

The Blessed Blind nods, seemingly satisfied with your answer. She keeps rubbing her fingers over your Cameo, and when her thumb brushes against the profile of Saint Bragia's weapon, she freezes. She repeats the movement, more carefully.

That heavy feeling in the pit of your stomach grows worse.

"This is..." she hesitates. "Child. Where did your teacher say he found this amulet?"

"He did not," you answer. Why would you even ask anything like that of your Master? Master always had a reason for everything. You suspected it had to be a little special, given the exquisite workmanship, but you never stopped to ask where he found it.

Took it?

"Hm. Thank you for showing it to me. It is a precious gift. Make sure to treasure it." She gives it back to you and you put it back on your chest.

But there is something that is not right.

"I will. Also, uhm. A-Apologies, but... w-what about my question?"

"Your question?"

The Blessed Blind tilts her head, as if taunting you.

She had promised to answer, but she just prompted more answers out of you. You feel like someone with far more skills than you took you for a spin in the ballroom and made you dance at the tune she wanted.

But now that the Cameo is back in your possession you feel like your mind is clearer again and your bravery grows stronger than your fealty, or your fear.

"M-My connection to it. To the Cameo, to Saint Bragia. I have felt it grow stronger. Why do you think it is so?"

The Blessed Blind leans back in her creaking chair, entwining her fingers in her lap. She sits silent for a few long breaths stretching in the silence between you.

"I believed I answered that already," she replies at last. "Your devotion is stronger than your age would warrant, Argia Candente. If you have chosen Saint Bragia as your patron, it is not to be expected she's answer? Ever after her murder, she sits besides the Sun-Birther. I do not deem it an impossibility your prayers have reached her ears." A pause. "You should be proud of yourself. This growing connection you feel is proof of your ability, Argia Candente. I am sure you will see it grow stronger and stronger as soon as you keep walking the path of Saint Bragia."

"A-Alright. Thank you."

[cont.]
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>>6030389

You feel a little better after sharing these words with her. Master chose you, but you decided to vote yourself to Saint Bragia. In a way, it's the most personal part of your faith, as well as strengthening yourself for any future confrontation with other emissaries of the Stilladìa.

Besides, it just came naturally with you. After what happened in your homeland... putting your trust into the Saint who came from nothing and was the first victim of the Adversary felt natural.

It still is natural.

The words of the Blessed Blind comfort you. Perhaps... perhaps there is some truth in what she says and Saint Bragia truly is looking over you.

You take a deep breath and you wait for the Blessed Blind to speak, trying to hold onto the feeling of warmth that spreads from the Cameo. In fact, it does feel a little stronger than before.

Perhaps this conversation was not just between the two of you.

>Your connection with the Cameo has improve! Your bonus to all applicable checks grows from +7 to +8!

"I would also have to ask about the mission," you start, shifting to the next topic.

Astoria nods, welcoming your question. You have a feeling that asking her about the cameo might have put her into a more welcoming mood. If she appreciates your focus on the mission, she might be more forgiving when you'll ask her if you can pick up the lost sword.

You wet your lips, hesitating for a moment. Greed is the worst of sins. But if you have caught sight of that sword, there must be a reason... especially one that's been made in Madua. You hope the Blessed Blind will allow you to--

"Before your next question," she interrupts you quietly. "I would also have something to ask you."

"O-Oh. At once. Please ask."

"Thank you." She pauses, her fingers brush against each other while she keeps weighing her words. "What do you think of your companions?"

That takes you a bit by surprise, doesn't it?

>You decide to speak about Soralisa first. She's sleeping right besides you, after all. And you want to share the reasons why you threw yourself into the fire for her.

>You decide to introduce Salicera first. she's the most notable. And you have an inkling the Blessed Blind would only mention the other two to be polite.

>You decide to start with the root of the problems and speak about Rubida. Astoria has listened to your plight so far, perhaps you can take advantage of her openness?
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>>6030415
>You decide to introduce Salicera first. she's the most notable. And you have an inkling the Blessed Blind would only mention the other two to be polite.
What is her deal? We need to know!
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>>6030415
>You decide to speak about Soralisa first. She's sleeping right besides you, after all. And you want to share the reasons why you threw yourself into the fire for her.
kinda torn here
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>>6030570
>kinda torn here

then I must be doing my job properly. pleased to hear it.
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>>6030574
no problem. btw, if I may suggest, can the next lore dump be about those 7 sisters ? since the cult we were investigating and the ones those 3 were allying against are them.
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>>6030607
I am really really glad you want to know more, but the Seven Sisters and their role and history are so pivotal to certain extremely important lore points that I'd rather touch on them when it's time.

Bit by bit you will know more about the Seven Sisters... though if that is for the better remains to be seen.
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>>6030622
okay
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>>6030415
>You decide to introduce Salicera first. she's the most notable. And you have an inkling the Blessed Blind would only mention the other two to be polite.
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>>6030437
>>6030730
>>6030570

Salicera wins (it will make her happy)

Writing!
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>>6030415

You throw a glance at Soralisa, still sleeping on the table. She’s so close, and she is the reason you are even here, but your mind then shifts to the Blessed Blind’s meaning behind those words.

What do you think of your companions?

The dance is still going, and maybe you feel like you can try and see just half a step ahead.

You are supposed to answer all the answers a mystic asks you with utter honesty, but there is something that just does not sit right with you.

You brush against your Cameo, enjoying the renewed strength it gives you, and then you answer. The answer you suppose the Blessed Blind wants to hear.

Oh, Sun-Birther, may She guide your words.

“I do not think too much about them. I am just here for a short time, and then I will go back to Master’s training. He’s confident I can undergo the Trial of Fire in a few more years.” You pause, trying to collect your thoughts about Salicera. “I felt like I bonded a little bit with Salicera tonight. We fought together, and as always she fought well. I have never seen anyone with her sword skills.” You pause as you toss Astoria a glance. Could you gather what she thinks from her face? “I wonder who trained her.”

But the face of the Blessed Blind does not move.

“As for the other two… I care about Soralisa. She does not have neither the strength nor the desire to be out here, so we all try to look after her. Especially Rubida, even if she and I…” how to put this? “We rarely feel like we belong in the same manipolo.”

So much for your boasting about being inspired by Saint Bragia, then. She had a trio of companions who would fight tooth and nail for her (and they did, when the Adversary first rose). You have a trio of… people who breathe the same air.

You are so far removed from the person you want to be.

Astoria nods.

“Thank you. Now, you had another question, even though I suppose judging from your words so far I can guess which one it will be.”

Of course. It is related, after all, isn’t it? You just lost one of your members as the Night is still out there, with the Well stretching inside it and who knows what else—

“Why were we sent on this mission?”

[cont.]

I will continue this update in a few hours when I have time.
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>>6031187
while you're writting the rest, can you give us the height of everyone including the blessed blind ?
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>>6031408
sure, give me a few minutes to get back home anon.
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>>6031408

you will find heights, hair and eye colour and cup size in this paste

>https://pastebin.com/edit/CuxGS43X

but I also wrote and updated the data below:

>Argia Candente: 177 cm (5' 8'')
>Rubida dell'Obertengo: 170 cm (5' 5")
>Soralisa da Zaribari: 158 cm (5' 2")
>Salicera Fors: 180 cm (5' 9")
>Felice da Selevanda (Martial Chaplain): 177 cm (5' 8")
>Astoria di Ottava Ora: 153 cm (5' - she's smol)
>Ibardo Delebasse: 186 cms (6' 1'')

other characters:

>Carnaval: 183 cm (6' - 240 cm / 7' 9" wingspan)
>The Stilladìa: 167 cm (5' 5'', 175 / 5' 7'' with horns (she can change her shape))
>Helias: 188 cm (6' 2'' (liquid, so he can change his shape as well))

# # # # # #

I'll use this chance to add a little bit of lore about characters height, looks and body development throughout the main Powers of the world:

>People of the Mar da Candéa:

they tend to have peachy skin and Mediterranean features - usually dark hair, brown or black, with green, brown, blue eyes. A minority has grey eyes as well. A large majority of people who develop Echoes sensitivity tend to show more Kiengir features (taller, sheer-black hair, deep blue eyes).

Usually not that tall, between 165 and 175 cms for men and 155 and 160 cms for women.


>People of Frigeìa:

due to its nature as a trading empire, the features of the people tend to mix more than in other parts of the world, but usually lighter hair and brown or green eyes. Taller and usually more developed: between 170 and 180 cms for men and 160 and 170 cms for women.

>People of the Treviri Throne:

tend to be quite tall and light-haired in the northern regions around the Treviri lands, while the southern ones in Tramontana (where the Twelve Cities of and the Asterite colleges are) tend to be a little shorter and darker-haired. Kiengir features tend to be most common among people living in Tramontana.

On average, between 170 and 185 cms for men and 165 and 180 cms for women.

>People of Madua:

tend to be by far the healthiest of the bunch, but their height and features varies greatly. Kiengiri features are the rarest in the known world. Height and features varies but they usually enjoy life expectancies around one third longer than other people: about 120 years for men and 135 for women.

>Elves:

extremely rare, the few Elves that survived the Epochalypse are invariably modelled after their lost Kiengir masters: invariably tall, gorgeous, strong and extremely resistant to injury. They usually display the sable skin, blue eyes, fine facial features with thin noses and lips, slightly pointed ears and ink-black hair of their lost developers. They are functionally everlasting.

Kishirra, one of the most famous Elves to ever live as the first convert to Ansàrra's Faith, used to have peculiar blonde hair and grey eyes (traits considered of defective workmanship in Elvish tradition)

# # # # # #

Hope you find this data useful, anon! I will resume writing below!
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>>6031187

Astoria stands up from her chair and starts to pace back and forth on the creaking floor, as she moves her hands in the air, drawing invisible figures. She looks like she's following instructions you cannot hear.

"This question is actually two questions, and each answer is actually two answers," she starts, taking short steps on the floor, reaching out in the air and then down below. You notice how her body bends with the utmost ease, as if she were made of wax. You train every day, but she has a self-control over her movement that borders on the supernatural... you doubt even Salicera can move with such grace.

"The first question is why were you sent on this mission, and why was I sent on this mission with you? To which I partly answered already." She pauses, holding up her palms and slowly curling her fingers, then releasing them. "And the answer is both how and why. How did you find yourself here tonight? Because your manipolo was chosen. Because there are two people who are of special interest to the higher spheres of Madua. And you can only know the value of steel by its strength, and its strength by trying to bend it."

Your heart picks up pace.

"Did Master ask to--"

"Your Master may enjoy a lofty position," she interrupts you, "but he is but one voice in the choir. Nay, it was someone else. By their request, you were chosen for this mission, together with another."

You don't even have to think about it.

"Salicera."

"And now I suppose you want to know the why." The Blessed Blind smiles, opening her palms again. Two golden flames appear on her hands, slowly rising to float above her, casting sweet, wavering light inside the carriage. Once more, it smells like summer. "That is something you have to answer by yourself, child. I do not fancy knowing Ansàrra better than Her own heart. But we all have a way to listen to Her if we dare to open our ears."

You nod, feeling your heart beating faster. They have chosen you. And Salicera. They have put you to the same level as Salicera Fors, the skirmisher genius of the age.

Your cheeks grow warmer as you remind yourself that losing to pride is truly a fall.

"So... so! This more testing than training."

A test. Your first test beyond Master's guidance. Perhaps this will shorten the time required before they let you take the Trial of Fire.

"It is both, Argia Candente," she murmurs, folding her arms on her chest. "And so far your performance has been most remarkable."

[cont.]

there's a remarkably low amount of illustrations that are about a pale girl with grey hair and blue eyes in armor and that are not porn
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>>6031564

"With the Malostromo, you mean? Or..." your eyes shift towards Soralisa. Answering to an impulse, you stand up and reach for her, making sure you do not touch her bandaged arms, but you set your hand on her shoulder. It's the closest you have been in a long while.

To think you might have tried to be a better friend before tonight. To think you might have attempted to live up to Saint Bragia...

That was why you chose her and not Kishirra, even though Kishirra was by far the greatest Knight.

Bragia Lacresta was never alone. Never, not even when she faced the Adversary and met her doom.

Candeloro died with her, as did Fratello Cinghia. Only Esta survived, taking Bragia's spot as Archiater.

What would you do in her position? If tonight you will face a shadow of the Seven Sisters, would you bend like a wizened tree or would you stand your ground?

"With her," you whisper, turning again towards the Blessed Blind, who graces you with another of her rare smiles. You feel the tiniest hint of approval from her. "Because I threw myself into the fire."

Astoria nods.

"I will try. With Rubida as well, I mean. I think I'm starting to understand Salicera, actually," you say with a little more strength in it compared to the first time.

"Are you now?"

"Y-Yes. I mean, we are pretty similar. I feel like I understand her better than the others lady-in-wait. We just want to be able to prove our best."

Astoria takes a long breath, seemingly thinking.

"I will take your word for it. Now. Time for one last question."

She seems in a good mood. You faced a few trials already during your conversation. Perhaps you can push your luck.

"There is... something. I have seen it caught in the pit where the Malostromo used to stand. I think it's a sword, but its edge is made of tetracerarmide. Not the tetrarmide we see usually..." How to put this while trying to make it look like they did not cheap out on your equipment? Because yes, they did, but it would be mostly impolite to say out loud. "I think it would be of great help if I could wield it. If you think it is... appropriate for me to do so."

Astoria regards you as she rubs her bandaged fingers against her chin, producing a soft chafing sound.

"Stealing from the dead is most vile. But this is a night of portents, and you were the one to deal the killing blow to the malignant tree. I will have to take a look at this sword to decide."

"Of course. If I can go to take it... I mean, if you don't want me to stay here with Salicer-I mean, with Soralisa," you stutter.

Once again you are making a fool of yourself, but you feel like it was worth it. You had the best answers you could ask for, and the Blessed Blind even allowed you to pick up the sword.

[cont.]
>>
>>6031588

"You have the rest of the investigation to go through, Argia Candente. You three can take a short rest and it would be better if you try and put together a plan. You can ask Felice for help." She turns towards Soralisa, setting her hands on her bandaged arms, and you realise that your allotted time is over.

"I will. Thank you for your generosity. I will measure up to it."

"I am confident you will."

You slowly walk on uneasy feet towards the door. Soralisa is under care and even if it's just three of you, you should be able to take on this... it's your trial, after all. You need to talk with--

"Candente," comes Astoria's voice.

You stop right as you are about to touch the door.

"Yes?"

"“Affidati pel Rame a sanatura, di Ferro è robusta affilatura, ché l’Oro sana ogne stortura, ma Argento?"

Your good mood shatters as she callously repeats the same words you have heard murmured in dusky corners while you passed by.

'Copper use to clean, Iron's fair and keen, heal through Gold serene, but Silver?'

The words that follows you like a shadow through your time in the Landing Strip, and beyond.

You know how the rest goes.

"Argento fa sventura.

'Silver's woe unseen.'

Astoria nods.

"Sayings and old folk lore exist for a reason. You have proven yourself steadfast in proving these words false." She turns over her shoulder to regard you with her charred gaze. "I pray you shall continue to do so."

You stumble through a nod. Those were reassuring words. You hope so.

You finally reach for the door and come out in the cooler air of the night an-

"Ow." You stumble upon someone.

"Watch out," Salicera says, gently prying you off her. "How is she?"

"A-Apologies. She is doing better. I hope so. The Blessed Blind has used--" a bit of wonder creeps back into your tone, "-- the hallowed bandages to heal Soralisa! You should have seen them! They shine like burning gold! It's Her blood, Salicera, and I was so close to touch it."

Salicera just gives you a smile and a nod.

"I'm sure it was an incredible experience. Did the Blessed Blind say anything about the mission?"

"I- yes. Yes, she did." You lick your lips nervously. "Perhaps we need to talk. Also... I might need your help with something."

>Discuss what you know about Soralisa and the mission with the others, then ask Salicera for help with the sword

>You may have enough time for asking for more Sanctions. You should keep quiet about what you know and just focus on enhancing your chances of success

>Write-in
>>
>>6031602
>Discuss what you know about Soralisa and the mission with the others, then ask Salicera for help with the sword
Bragia sought companionship. We seek companionship. We might yet achieve it! Let's not backslide into mistrust.
>>
>>6031537
Salicera really is a young genius, being D already and I assume Astoria is an A, even if not listed.
>>6031602
>Discuss what you know about Soralisa and the mission with the others, then ask Salicera for help with the sword
>>
>>6031637
you mean cup size? I was giving no thought about Astoria's, top kek. but she'd be around a D as well. once again lore reasons
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>>6031639
lore reasons ? man, considering that Carnaval is also packing, perhaps Ansarrà has a fertily goddess side and with the Stilladìa being mogged by the angel, it reminds me of picrel.
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>>6031650
>that pic

I think it says more about my preferences than I am ready to admit. For some reason checks notes almost all of my favourite female characters/protags have small-ish breasts and a big butt.

Must be something in the water.


(By contrast, almost every female antagonist in my stories has blonde hair)

>Stilladìa being mogged by Carnaval

Hey hey hey, let's not be hasty, she has that 'evil accountant' air to her, doesn't she?
>>
>>6031665
>Hey hey hey, let's not be hasty, she has that 'evil accountant' air to her, doesn't she?
Carnaval ? well, she kinda has. btw went to read this https://pastebin.com/By6W3xxD today and the part of Kishirra and the heretic tradition about her gave me more curiosity to read your other work, but no promises
>>
>>6031669
>read the lore pastebin

glad you did!

There is of course a kind of... unconfirmed, anti-orthodox legend that Saint Kishirra decided to take as companion a reedsmith from the Mar da Candéa, but anon... are you really going to read heretical books? Next thing we know you might offer your soul...
>>
>>6031602
>Discuss what you know about Soralisa and the mission with the others, then ask Salicera for help with the sword
>>
>>6031602
>>You may have enough time for asking for more Sanctions. You should keep quiet about what you know and just focus on enhancing your chances of success
>>
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>>6031665
>For some reason checks notes almost all of my favourite female characters/protags have small-ish breasts and a big butt.

Unbelievably based. Though I am more of a tight/very aesthetic ass if we were to split hairs.

>>6031602
>You may have enough time for asking for more Sanctions. You should keep quiet about what you know and just focus on enhancing your chances of success
>>
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>>6031871
thanks anon

>tight and aesthetic

I raise my goblet to that

Also, if Argia survives the next section I have a little something planned
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>>6031602
>Discuss what you know about Soralisa and the mission with the others, then ask Salicera for help with the sword

>>6031537
FYI, the pastebin is currently locked and "awaiting moderation". Every day this hellsite grows more wretched
>>
>>6032212
Just remove the ‘edit’ and keep the numbers after that, anon
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>>6032212

my mistake, I copied the link while I was still logged in

>https://pastebin.com/By6W3xxD

it should work like in pic related

>>6032217

thanks anon

Ansàrra blessed me with patient players, this is more evident every day
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>>6032222
>>6032212

Character Stats and Looks:

>https://pastebin.com/CuxGS43X

(of course I *had* to get quads on the stupidest post in the thread)
>>
>>6032222
this means our next roll we pass with a crit, right ?
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>>6032280
nice try anon. dubs/trips /etc. rules apply to my rolls as well, but this was not a roll, so no bonus, just a nice feeling for getting the first quads in the quest.

Also, currently stuck at work, so I am giving 120 more minutes for eventual votes, then writing.

for the rime being, behold this dancing cat and reflect upon your /qst/ choices
>>
>>6031625
>>6031637
>>6031690
>>6032212

4 for discussing everything

>>6031871
>>6031788

2 for focusing on Sanctions

thanks for voting anon, writing will begin shortly!
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>>6031602

“Need my help?” Salicera frowns, seemingly taken aback for a moment. “You mean— with the mission?”

“Not just the mission per se,” you reply, the words of the Blessed Blind still running circles inside your mind. As you walk away from the carriage, Salicera hesitates but follows you right away, leaning towards you as she murmurs in a low voice.

“You keep daydreaming, then you use twice the words needed and they stumble and cross over each other. That mystic is rubbing off on you.”

You chuckle, knowing it was not meant as a jab.

“Apologies. I’m just a little shaken yet.”

The truth about the investigation, the trial that awaits you, Soralisa’s body… and your growing connection with the Cameo.

Once, when you were a child, your father brought you to know the Mar da Candéa first-hand, and after a while you learned how to swim on your own. A few months later, at the end of Summer and right before the Crimson Days, you plunged into the reedy depths as far as you could, brushing your hands against the slimy, red algae that would be harvested to make paper later on.

The feeling of your lungs collapsing and the desperate need for air, the scramble for the surface, your limbs aching as you tried to reach for the shining sun above—

It left your head spinning then, and you feel just about the same now.

“You said she is recovering, isn’t she?” She asks.

“Hopefully so. Her life is not at risk anymore, but it remains to be see how long it will take her to regain use of her arms… if at all.”

Salicera gives a sharp nod.

“A shame.” You notice how she has finally patched up the holes in her clothing. There’s likely Rubida’s hand in this. At least she’s less distracting than before. You don’t like being distracted while on a mission. Especially this one.

While you two walk over the spot Rubida is laying, cleaning her armour and her weapons, you take a moment to regard your surroundings. The ominous well is still there, still floating seemingly by itself. The forest is scorched, ruined and blasted apart. You three helped in that, but that was mostly due to the Sanction.

“I forgot to ask her,” you whisper.

“What about?” Salicera stands besides you as you stop a few steps away from the fallen tree. It keeps popping and creaking as it is still burning from the inside. The stench of burnt hair and skin mixes with the fragrance of summer.

“What does it smell to you?” You ask to Salicera, turning to regard her. She’s still sweaty, stained with dirt and scratches, and yet there is an intensity to her gaze you had yet to see tonight. It’s like she’s weighing you, in a manner not unlike the Blessed Blind. Save she still has her eyes and you can see her irises shift as she ponders your question.

“You are all questions and no answers tonight, Madama Candente. What does it smell… like burnt flesh, I suppose. Hardly a perfume.”

“Nothing else?"

[cont.]
>>
>>6032441

Salicera licks her lips and closes her eyes. She takes a deep breath, her forehead frowning as a sensation catches her.

“Perhaps. It’s…” she hesitates. “It’s hard to explain.” She looks around, making sure nobody is there next to the two of you. But the chaplain is dealing with the horses, Rubida is furiously trying to take muck off her helm. You two are alone. Salicera huffs and regards the silver ring, no—past it, towards the sphere of fixed stars. “There is this smell that roads give off in summer. It’s… oily. And dry. And a bit like rotten eggs. Acrid. Hard to say. I’m not good with words, Argia!” She scoffs, crossing her arms over her chest. “Why? What do you smell?”

It’s your turn to close your eyes. Why are you feeling so pensive? Must be your conversation with the Blessed Blind. It hit you too fast to properly go through it, and now your emotions are rocking back and forth like the waves during a Candean storm, rippling from one edge to the other of the Sea.

You also can't wrap your head around Salicera's words. Roads don't smell like that. They sometimes smell like dust, or grass, or dirt, but not... rotten eggs.

Another tally on the chart of Salicera's weird comments. Thinking again, perhaps that's why they decided to put you two in the same manipolo.

“Ripe grapes. Dry earth. It’s sweet and comforting.” A pause. “It smells like home.”

Salicera looks away.

“We need to refine our strategy,” you switch topic, walking towards the lip of the hole. Salicera follows you, more hesitant now. She claims you are not good with words, but what does that make you? A walking disaster. The effort to try and follow Astoria’s steps during your dance has left you dizzy and you are just running words through your mouth. At this point you don’t really care.

At least not with Salicera.

“There’s just three of us and we have yet to explore that thing. Rubida is alone and she needs backup,” you say as you stand at the edge of the crater. Like before, Salicera scrapes her foot over the lip and throws a rock below. It strikes you as surprisingly childish. “I also wanted to thank you for your help. How’s your wrist?”

“Bandaged. Rubida is anything if not thorough, you should know.”

You shrug. Maybe one day you will know.

“And also, I’d need your help picking up that,” you say, trying to pinpoint the precise location of the sword. Your heart sinks as you have lost it. You search with your eyes among the roots and the open dirt, but it’s hard to—

“Is that a sword?” Salicera gasps, immediately aiming her finger at the right spot. “How did it get there? It looks like—”

“Y-Yes,” you say, a faint blush reaching your teeth. Of course. Such sharp night sight. How could you forget. “Tetracerarmide.”

Salicera does one of her strange mannerisms and whistles.

“That looks sharp. Is that yours? I mean, you want my help picking it up?”

[cont.]
>>
>>6032447

“If you could. The Blessed Blind has last word if I can wield it anyway, but I think it would be a shame to leave it there to rot. It must have belonged to someone worthy, I am sure.”

Salicera rolls her eyes.

“Why do you even need her permission, Argia? You killed the tree, you deserve a reward.” Unbidden, she drapes her light arm around your shoulders. Through the thin layer of her clothing, you can clearly feel she’s just as fit as you are, likely even a little more. “How about we pick it up anyway and hide it? We can go back to take it later!” She whispers with a grin. “You are always so proper—”

“What?” You reply, the shock at her suggestion almost making you recoil. “It’s not up to me decide! That sword might still belong to someone’s family! Or it might have been cursed! I need Astoria to make sure I can use it before claiming it as mine.”

Salicera gives you another of those strange, weighing looks you have felt through the night. You feel like a sword in the smith’s workshop, about to get appraised for its sharpness and whether it's worthy of the time spent on it.

Salicera’s brown eyes and their sharp, keen grey rim seem to pierce through your skull.

“You are truly confounding, Argia Candente,” she sighs, giving you shoulder a faint squeeze and letting go. “Sometimes it seems as if…” she bites her tongue, the same hesitation as before when you asked her to describe the leftover smell from your strike’s Sanction. “Nevermind,” she shakes her head. “Apologies. I overstepped. Should we go back to talk with Rubida now? I want to hear your strategy and what else you talked about.”

>No, you’d better clarify this now. Salicera’s words are worrying you a little. You do not take without asking — Greed is the blackest of sins, you know this well — and the fact she suggested it so callously make your stomach knot in a way that you really do not like. It *must* be an innocent mistake, but you want to ask Salicera to explain herself better.

>You nod and turn your back away from the hole. Salicera has always been a little strange, but this kind of strangeness can wait for when you have cleared the mission. Then you can sit down with her and make sure she just meant it in jest… after all, as Rubida said, the Night is all around you. The rain is no more and you need to discuss your strategy. You risk running out of time.

>Write-In

# # # # # #

I LOVE writing character interactions! I LOVE writing character interactions!

These two will be the ruin of yours truly. I think I still have it in me to write another update, so if we get at least 3 votes before the next 180 mins I may write another.

I know I'm repeating myself, but think carefully about your actions during this specific interaction.

# # # # # #
>>
>>6032452
>You nod and turn your back away from the hole. Salicera has always been a little strange, but this kind of strangeness can wait for when you have cleared the mission. Then you can sit down with her and make sure she just meant it in jest… after all, as Rubida said, the Night is all around you. The rain is no more and you need to discuss your strategy. You risk running out of time.
normally I'd easily ignore, but OP making a big deal outta it has me worried a lil bit. Going with focusing on the plan 1st anyway.
>>
>>6032452
>>You nod and turn your back away from the hole. Salicera has always been a little strange, but this kind of strangeness can wait for when you have cleared the mission. Then you can sit down with her and make sure she just meant it in jest… after all, as Rubida said, the Night is all around you. The rain is no more and you need to discuss your strategy. You risk running out of time.

We can talk to her about not being greedy/covetous later.
>>
>>6032475

points for sticking to it, anon

>>6032497

Now I have this mental image of Salicera as a grumpy cat who always steals stuff and brings it home and Argia trying to make her stop (critical failure)
>>
>>6032452
>No, you’d better clarify this now. Salicera’s words are worrying you a little. You do not take without asking — Greed is the blackest of sins, you know this well — and the fact she suggested it so callously make your stomach knot in a way that you really do not like. It *must* be an innocent mistake, but you want to ask Salicera to explain herself better.
>>
>>6032516

>scold her now

>>6032475
>>6032497

>scold her later

thanks for voting so fast. Writing now!
>>
>>6032452
>You nod and turn your back away from the hole. Salicera has always been a little strange, but this kind of strangeness can wait for when you have cleared the mission. Then you can sit down with her and make sure she just meant it in jest… after all, as Rubida said, the Night is all around you. The rain is no more and you need to discuss your strategy. You risk running out of time.
100% an isekai protag, but we can address her heresy later.
>>
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>>6032447

You hesitate right on the lid. Salicera’s words sound a bit too strange. Is she not worried about committing a sin? Alarm bells toll high and loud in your head, but when you look at her, you hesitate, your reproach stopping on its tracks right on the tip of your tongue.Salicera’s shoulders slump. She looks almost… disappointed. Defeated?

Was this about something else than the sword?Oh, Starless Night! Why can’t you understand what people mean a little better? See? See? That’s what happens when you get too complacent, when you think you can just spew out whatever you feel.

You bit your lip as you blame yourself. You must have heard that wrong. Salicera surely meant something else than just taking the sword. You rake your mind, trying to understand where you went wrong, just as you tentatively take a few steps away from the hole and Salicera, still holding her arms closed in against her torso, looks at her feet.

“Yes, let’s go back to Rubida,” you say, trying to pull the conversation back into the ease you shared just a few times tonight. The same sort of friendly flow you also felt with Soralisa the first few times you spoke and before, when you saved her from the Sanction.

You need to do better. You can’t just wait for grace to come to you.

“Thanks for offering your help,” you fidget, trying to repair a bridge you felt cracking right beneath your feet. “I appreciate it. I have been trying to—” make friends. “To behave more like Saint Bragia. I feel like tonight we are all working a little better together. I hope we can continue to do so… I mean… just… thank you.” You drop both your head and the conversation as you play with your brigandine, as if checking on the plaques’ integrity.

Of course they are going to be just fine.

Salicera sighs and side-steps, bringing herself to your left. She picks up your left arm, the one you used the Searing Blood Sanction with. Her touch is strikingly gentle and there is the same crease in her eyes as before, caught between hope and disappointment.

“You haven’t even asked anyone to take a look at your sacrificial wounds, Argia,” she huffs. “And I am no good with Sanctions. That is what irks me.”

“That you are not—” you try. You want to make her feel better about herself, as silly as this notion is for someone with her skills.

“That you have such a low consideration of yourself!” She hisses, turning again to block your path. She’s just a thumb taller than you, but she seems to loom taller than the Malostromo as she rakes her fingers over your wounds. The power of the Sanction has already cauterised the wounds, but they will likely leave a few scars.

You do not really mind.

What is the big deal about scars anyway?

[cont.]
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>>6032569

Is Salicera worried about those? You feel caught in a storm and your nutshell of a vessel is rocked back and forth, shaken by the waves.

Salicera lets go of your arm but she sets both hands on your shoulders. You jump — you are not used to this kind of close contact. She does not push it further, but she’s firm enough—

Once you saw Mother catching one of that rabbits that had escaped its enclosure. She picked it up with a firm grip. Your five-years-old self would have wanted to shout her to let it go, that she was sure going to hurt it, but the rabbit seemed at ease even when your mother set it back into its pen.

That rabbit had brown fur and your hair is silver. That’s the difference, you believe.

“Why are you even here, Argia?”

“I—” memories reach your mind again. Screams, people running, your bruised hand trying to reach through the throng, and then— “Master chose me.”

“No, no,” Salicera seems desperate to make you understand… but understand what? “Focus. Please. I need this. Why are you trying to become a Knight?”

“My family. We are still in the Landing Strip. I need…” your scattered mind tries to put the pieces together. “I need passage into Madua for them. For us.”

“Exactly. See? you have a— a goal, don’t you see?” She knits her eyebrows, as if Salicera is trying to make you understand that the sun is warm and the grass is green. “You are not here just because there’s room to spare. That is — this is it! — hold on to it, Argia. I need you to hold onto to it.” Her right hand slides down onto your arm.

The grey rim of her eyes looks so shiny. She’s looking at you with an intensity you have never seen before.

“I… do. I wake up every day thinking about it—”

“Then stop to behave as if you are only alive out the goodwill of others!” She pleads. “You matter, Argia. What you want. What you can achieve. I— I can be there for it. But you have to hold on to it.”

You feel truly lost. Why would Salicera try to make you focus on something you have been working on since you were fifteen?

Then something hits you.

[cont.]
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>>6032582

“Are you trying to be my friend?”

It’s Salicera’s turn to shudder. She looks away, grits her teeth. Her left hand, still holding onto your shoulder, withdraws.

“I— I don’t understand you. I’m sorry Salicera. The others adore you. Why are you trying so hard to—”

She rubs her forehead with her left hand.

“You don’t get it. It’s not your fault. Never… nevermind. It’s just…” her voice trembling, she looks up. The silver ring shines in her eyes, cleaving them in two like a river through the dale. “When I was little I used to— my family! I mean, my family used to — to own this enchanted mirror.” What is she talking about now? But her words creak like the finest snow. If you push against them, you feel like you could shatter Salicera Fors.

Salicera, the strongest swordsman of her generation — powder in the wind.

You hold your breath.

“You could talk to it. It talked back. I…” she shows you a feverish, ashamed grin. “I wanted to be friends with it. I tried to. The mirror it… it did not really understand, but it made it look as if it did and—…” she looks to you again. There is a thin sheen over her eyes. “I can’t tell you this right now. Maybe after tonight. Maybe. What I mean is that… don’t you believe almost everyone is just like that mirror, Argia? That they talk back, but don’t really… don’t really take it in? That they are here because there is room to spare?”

Silence hangs frozen between you two.

It feels like you have been talking for hours — but it has been just a handful of moments.

“I feel like I’m a mirror myself,” you reply, lowering your gaze. “I don’t know what I reflect, Salicera. I am always dancing on the edge of the precipice. I feel like I’m making a fool of myself even just right now. I’m sorry if I do. I’ll try to fix it if I can.” But there was something else she talked about, wasn’t it? You raise your eyes to meet hers, blue striking into brown. “But there is no need to tell me to focus on my goal, thank you. I know what I am here for. I know what I must do. The only ones who can give me suggestions are Master and Ansàrra herself, if She ever graces me so. You truly need not to worry. But I would like to—” oh, and now it’s that heated embarrassment reaching for your cheeks again, especially now that Salicera is looking at you rapt as you state your goal with utter conviction “— to be your friend.”

There is another question hanging between the two of you — is that what you wanted?

[cont.]
>>
>>6032612

“Yes. Yes, I—” Salicera blinks, makes a show of scratching her cheeks before she finally reaches for her eyes. “Oh, Starless Night,” she says picking up your curse, “I am so sorry, Argia. I was just… yes. Yes. That’s what I was taking about. Yes. Of course…” she gives you a sheepish grin. “I was a fool.” The grin widens and she looks at you with a gratitude you don’t feel like you really deserve. “Yes. Such a fool. Of course! Friends.” She rubs at her eyes again. “Ah. This Malostromo soot is terrible. Excuse me.”

You nod. You don’t think like it’s that terrible but she’s probably saying so because she doesn’t want you to see her cry.

Hey.

Did you just understand how people work without asking for direct instructions?

You frown, holding onto that, but Salicera pulls you into a very short hug — just a burst of pressure, really — “Thank you,” she says to your ear, and lets go.

You walk back to Rubida, who has finally finished cleaning off her armour and looks pleased enough with the result she withdraws her boots as far as she can from yours as you two sit down. After all, you have just come back from the dirty hole left by the Malostromo.

You regard Rubida, giving her a quick once-over, short enough to pass as a casual look. Even through a battle she manages to look absolutely gorgeous — the perfect sheen of her black hair, the deep blue of her eyes, her fine features, and her proud gaze, which turns friendly as soon as Salicera sits between you and her.

She’s so well put-together. So far away from a nasty child of Candea such as you.

And yet, she waits patiently for you to relay your conversation with Soralisa, regarding you with something akin to respect.

Or at least less disgust.

Bit by bit, you explain them what you and the Blessed Blind shared about the mission and her presence here. You notice that through your conversation, Salicera goes back to her usual relaxed posture, sitting on her butt with her legs crossed, her arms confidently splayed over her knees.

Rubida keeps sharing looks and smiles with her, with the habitual ease of people who have known each other for months.

And yet—
Was it you who was a mirror? Or…

You don’t have time for this.

“So,” you say rubbing your hands together. “This is our test. We have to go inside that well and understand what is going on… and if things go well, Ansàrra willing…”

“Oh, I hope they just call this travesty off,” Rubida huffs. “For poor Soralisa, at least! I’d rather be back home as well, but it’s clear she’s truly suffering through it. Salicera instead is having the time of her life, isn’t she?”

“Am I truly that easy to read?” She laughs, giving Rubida a confident smirk that makes Rubida blush and look away. “So. What do you say, Argia? Now that we are down one member, how should our manipolo work?”
>>
>>6032614

“Since when are you on a first name basis?” Rubida asks, sounding a bit scandalised.

“Taking down a horrid magic tree has a way to help you bond,” Salicera replies with her usual smirk. “Besides, Argia has been instrumental in saving Soralisa from her own Sanction. We have kept her at arm’s distance but perhaps that might have not been for the better, don’t you agree?”

“As soon as she behaves,” Rubida answers skeptically. “I have already explained her how I feel. That’s not going to change, but I am willing to hear her plan.”

You feel your palms getting sweaty as both girls look at you. You chance a glance at the silver ring in the sky. It’s growing brighter than before — the night is near its apex. If there’s a wrong time to go investigate a suspected cult of the Seven Sisters, you are rapidly approaching it.

>Rubida has lost her only backup, so she should cover Salicera’s back while you keep your vanguard role. This is, after all, the configuration you three are most familiar with. It's likely going to cause the least problems.

>You will look after Rubida, leaving the exploration task to Salicera. She’s the best among you, and you have proven that you can work with Rubida, when you two can stand each other. This would balance each other’s strengths and weaknesses the best.

>Rubida is going to be affected by this exploration harder than all of you, given her past. You are likely the only one who knows this. You should agree with her to leave her behind with the carriage. You and Salicera go in alone, and who cares if you share the glory in three equal parts. At least she won’t have to face her worst nightmare again.

# # # # # #

long as fuck update, both before and now. I had an absolute *blast* writing it. I hope you enjoyed seeing Salicera express herself a little more freely. Now it's up to you to decide how to approach the well that seeps into the night.

Next update should come in about 18 hours, so you have plenty of time to discuss. If there are any questions I will try my best to answer them. As always, thanks for playing.
>>
>>6032616
>Rubida has lost her only backup, so she should cover Salicera’s back while you keep your vanguard role. This is, after all, the configuration you three are most familiar with. It's likely going to cause the least problems.
going with this since we seem to have suffered the least injuries.
man, when I saw the length of the doot and their conversation, I had to double check if the vote to ask her about the meaning had won over the one to go straight into planning. Interesting stuff, OP. You're really a wordcel.
>>
>>6032653
their conversation would have gone much much differently if the other option had won, but you still would have gotten a long character interaction. After all a) it was necessary b) the Muse felt like it anyway

>wordcel

top kek anon, I love it. glad you enjoyed the update(s)
>>
>>6032616
>>You will look after Rubida, leaving the exploration task to Salicera. She’s the best among you, and you have proven that you can work with Rubida, when you two can stand each other. This would balance each other’s strengths and weaknesses the best.
>>
>>6032616
>Rubida has lost her only backup, so she should cover Salicera’s back while you keep your vanguard role. This is, after all, the configuration you three are most familiar with. It's likely going to cause the least problems.
Oh Starless Night, are we a NPC in a vidya?
>>
>>6032666
Nothing wrong with being word. All the shit I write ends up being like twice as long as I intend. Then if I go back to check it out, boom, another couple of pages for various reasons.

>>6032616
>You will look after Rubida, leaving the exploration task to Salicera. She’s the best among you, and you have proven that you can work with Rubida, when you two can stand each other. This would balance each other’s strengths and weaknesses the best.
>>
>>6033041
*Wordy
>>
>>6033041
it happens a lot of times. sometimes it's for the better though. I have learned that it depends mostly on the story. Maybe there is some aspect of it that kicks and screams for release, like this conversation with Salicera which has been brewing since the very start. That girl can get more pent-up than a spring.
>>
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>>6033041
>>6032820
>>6032695
>>6032653

120 minutes left for voting, then tallying up and writing
>>
>>6032616
>You will look after Rubida, leaving the exploration task to Salicera. She’s the best among you, and you have proven that you can work with Rubida, when you two can stand each other. This would balance each other’s strengths and weaknesses the best.
>>
>>6033408
Thank you for breaking tie anon. Writing resumes in a few minutes
>>
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>>6032616

“I have given this some thought,” you start.

It may not be completely true, but it might be for the best. This just makes sense and it would be the best way to make use of your specific abilities and strong points.

“I should take the a rear guard position together with Rubida and allow you to take the lead,” you say pointing your finger towards Salicera, who mulls over your words for a little bit and then nods.

“If that is alright with you,” Salicera replies. “I will do my best.”

“I am a bit worried about your wrist though—”

“It is fine,” she replies shaking her bandaged wrist. “Rubida is great at her job.” It seems like she assumes that Rubida will agree, but you turn your gaze towards the dark-haired lady-in-wait.
“What do you say? I know that you may have doubts about this—”

“I don’t have doubts, I have certainties,” she sighs. “I have already expressed why, but it would be best for me to find a role I feel familiar with.” She holds up her arm, the thumb raised. “This means that I need help. This,” she tilts her arm forward, pointing with her finger, “means that coast is clear. It is something Soralisa and I made up to understand each other better.”

You repeat both gestures and Rubida nods again.

“Thank you,” you say. “It means a lot that…” you don’t really want to say that it means a lot — to you — because it is not really true, but the way Rubida agreed to follow your suggestions bodes well for the success of the mission. “That you accepted.”

“I can’t really say not to Salicera,” Rubida explains with a smile. “If she ends up trusting you, least I can do is give you the benefit of the doubt, Argia Candente.” Her smile disappears. “This does not mean I trust you, of course.”

[cont.]
>>
>>6033453

You are reminded of her words and her experience. She certainly would not start putting her trust in you so easily.

“We just need to avoid walking all over each other. And I will be content.”

“I see we understand one another,” she nods.

“Thank you, nevertheless,” you agree, showing her a small smile. Rubida scoffs and runs a hand through her perfect hair.

“Save your pleasantries. Or at the very least, save them for the celebration.”

“We are going in. Salicera, if you could please—”

You stop as the carriage’s door opens and the Blessed Blind walks out, walking with a confident stride towards the fallen tree. She raises her right hand and a few of her bandages unfurl themselves at her silent command, wriggling in the air as they shoot at speed at the tree.

They wrap themselves around its branches and they writhe with golden glow as the Blessed Blind pronounces a few words in Maduan dialect, too fast for your to understand, and then she shifts to another kind of language, something that’s far rougher and that sounds to you like crunching ice between jaws of metal.

The tree catches fire.

The Sanction wounded it, your strike killed it — the flames that spread past the bandages consume it. It pops and and cracks, burning not just from the inside the time, quickly turning to a blackened lump of coal that’s as tall as you are, as the branches fall and crack and burn and the stench leaves room to the pleasant smell of cinder.

“It is gone,” Astoria says when the golden flames finally fall down. She has lost some cover over her thighs, arms and her neck, exposing her wounded flesh. You notice Salicera gaping at her open wounds, while Rubida respectfully looks away.

Ah, that was something you were supposed to do as well. You look at the hole, and then at your feet, because the Blessed Blind is approaching its lid.

“Argia Candente,” she calls upon you. “I suppose that one is the sword you wanted to pick up.”

“What sword? What are you doing?” Rubida asks.

“Nothing. It’s just something that can help us… help us during our mission.”

“We were not sent here to loot dungeons, Candente,” Rubida hisses.

But you stand up and walk to the lid, still looking down — and then at Salicera, who you notice is following you as well. You two reach Astoria, standing half a step away.

“You can go fetch it,” she explains.

[cont.]
>>
>>6033454

You immediately turn to address Salicera.

“Salicera? Can I ask again?”

“You didn’t need to!” She replies with an eager grin. You lock your arms as she helps you climb down the dirty hole and wrap your fingers around the sword. Bit by bit, you pick it up with a soft squelching noise, prying it out of her dirt and bones.

“Heave-oh!” Salicera exclaims as she picks both of you up. You notice that she used her bandaged arm — is that another way to show you that she is alright?

You touch firm land again, holding onto the metal and white tetracerarmid. The metal is a bit corroded and stained, but the white edge of the blade is absolutely spotless.

“This… this is it,” you say giving it to Astoria while you look away.

“You were not wrong,” she immediately say as you notice her thumb running down the entire length of the blade. “This is fine workmanship. It belonged to—” silence, for a few heartbeats. “To a young man. He held right over this blade, a family heirloom… but he lost it. He lost direction, he lost hope, and he lost his life.” She holds up her hand and raises the three central fingers. “May he have found peace.”

You remember the fine sparkling mist you saw leave before from the hole.

You wonder if those were truly souls leaving for the embrace of Ansàrra.

“You may wield it,” the Blessed Blind says giving it to you.

You hold the sword with utter reverence, daring to raise your gaze just enough to reach Astoria’s smile.

“T-Thank you.”

“You should thank the latest wielder. Or perhaps the Will of Ansàrra.” Astoria turns and addresses the third among you. “Dell’Obertengo. A word, if you may?”

Rubida stands up immediately, holding her gaze down as she follows her.

Salicera grins as she looks you holding the sword.

“How is it? How does it feel?”

You take a defensive stance, miming a few strikes. The sword feels light, thanks to the tetraceramide, but each strike is… sharper. It feels more precise, more full of intent. As if it was at same time much heavier. It reminds you of the biting strength of your axe, but with the shape and elegance of a sword.

And the reach.

Which is not to be underestimated.

[cont.]
>>
>>6033455

“Like it was made for better hands than mine,” you mutter. It is probably the best weapon you have ever touched, save for Master’s own.

But that is beyond the pale.

The etched tetracerarmide seems to glow white even under the silver light of the ring.

Salicera tosses a look at Astoria and Rubida sharing more words, then grins and takes out her own sword.

“Come on,” she stands before you in an aggressive skirmisher stance, her full-metal sword aimed at you. “Let’s give it a little test before we go in.”

It’s in this moment that you realise that you have lost your backpack… and that Salicera Fors is asking you to quickly spar with her.

Feeling your heart beating fast in your throat, you gulp as she lunges at you.

>Bo3; 1d100+17 (can’t apply the +8 from the Cameo because she’s a fellow Knight; remember if you get dubs or trips or more to apply specific bonuses) - Beat at least 1 out of 3.

Reminder that as I am rolling, the rules for dubs and trips apply to my rolls as well as yours.
>>
>>6033456
Time to see what she's really made of!
>>
Rolled 97 + 17 (1d100 + 17)

>>6033456
>>6033488
Would help if the dice worked, though. I'm not sure what I did wrong.
>>
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>>6033489
>1st fucking roll with your new fancy sword
>autocrit

I am already regretting
>>
>>6033494
My first attempt had dubs, too.
>>
Rolled 18, 54, 40 + 66 = 178 (3d100 + 66)

>>6033501
I noticed that. I noticed having trouble with rolling myself so I am inclined to also give you the +6 bonus as well.

overall, it seems like the previous wielder of the sword really wants you to make a good impression on Salicera.
>>
>>6033504
>those rolls

Salicera you wanker

Fortissimamente regretto
>>
Rolled 94 + 23 (1d100 + 23)

>>6033456
>>6033489
noice
>>6033488
making use of the dubs
>>6033504
even with the +66, our female Reinhard doesn't stand a chance
>>
>>6033505
>Salicera you wanker
I mean, natural crits aside she had the advantage
>>
>>6033509
>second roll
>94

I FUCKING SWEAR ANON
>>
Rolled 16 + 17 (1d100 + 17)

>>6033456
>>
>>6033574
Sorry guys...
>>
>>6033574
you forgot the +6 from the dubs, but relax anon, we won it
>>
>>6033510

yes but so far her rolls have been underwhelming and it feels like your cool big sis who is trying to impress you keeps tripping over her shoelaces


>>6033620
>>6033504
>>6033509

No, wait. I'll go over this again. The roll that gets dubs (or more) applies the bonus *only* to that roll. When I said I would add the +6 I naturally just meant it to anon's single roll.

For example, let's say you have to roll for a Bo3:

>anon1 rolls 60, gets dubs

total: 60+6

>anon2 then rolls 78, no dubs

total: still just 78

>anon3 then rolls 52 and gets trips

total: 52+18 (from trips)

the dice rolls (before we apply other modifiers) would be: 66, 52, 70.

So the anon who rolled
>>6033574
in this post correctly added the +17

You can also take a look at this post

>>6023787

where the dubs bonus was applied to only the second roll.

I hope that clarifies things.

Now, your results were amazing and you did score a full crit (and on dubs!) so you should be proud of yourselves. Writing!
>>
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>>6033456

# # # # # #

Results:

>97+17+6 (dubs) vs 18+66
autocrit vs 84, critical success

>94+17 vs 54+66
111 vs 120, failure

>16+17 vs 40+66
33 vs 106, failure

# # # # # #


Salicera lunges at you in one fluid movement, dashing over the ground like a grinning bolt of steel. You raise your new weapon and barely -- barely -- manage to deviate the strike from humiliatingly hit you straight in the chest. As you shift to the left, the plaques of your brigandine crinkle when the tip of her longsword touches them just beneath your shoulder.

She smirks and withdraws, giving you that same confident look.

"Come on, Argia, you can do better than this. Something like..." Salicera pulls back, swinging from over her shoulder. "... this!"

It's a stronger blow, but this time you are ready.

Well, you are a little more ready.

Her longsword shrieks in sparks as it hits the edge of your new weapon, sliding towards the guard. You push against her and manage to shift her momentum to the right, just enough to allow you to take a step back, still panting from the effort, but this time she did not manage to penetrate your guard. You can still feel the strength of that first blow.

It was like your defences were made of paper. She pierced through them with no effort.

"That's better," Salicera grins. She takes a step back, feint with a kick that sends you leaning back, and then lunges with another blow straight towards your chest, but this time--

It's almost as if you can see her.

You shift your body, going back to the lessons Master hammered onto you so many times they became habit, and you use your own body's momentum this time, not just to deflect, but to--

Salicera's eyes widen as your swords clash again, she shifts her weight as well, but she's lunged too far too fast, and the bite of your new sword is not like the bite of steel.

Oh, it's nothing like that.

You twist your wrist as the edge of your sword shrieks against Salicera's weapon, the tetraceramide grating against her steel so harshly that it leaves a comet of yellow sparks in its wake where it eats through the layers of metal.

It reaches for Salicera's guard, she twists her wrist as well, leans back, grimaces as she puts her legs into it--

You push harder and the war porcelain beats the iron: Salicera groans as you disarm her. Her longsword clatters useless behind her on the ground.

For a crystalline moment, you face each other, your weapon's tip as still as ice.

The tetraceramide has absorbed all the shock. It is not vibrating, like metal, but it carried the weight of the blow perfectly. It's almost as if the blade knows where it is supposed to be, caring little for air, weight, or opposing weapons.

It is intent made white and deadly, and now--

Now it's your sword.

"That was--" Salicera gasps, her breath caught in her throat. The ruckus has attracted the others and they are all looking at you... having just disarmed Salicera Fors. "-- Brilliant!"
>>
>>6033657

Salicera keeps chuckling as she picks up her sword with just two fingers, holding it in front of you. There is a shiny new scratch on its outer edge, running for about half its length.

"Look! That thing hit it so hard you practically... shaved it off!" She laughs even harder. "That's one good sword! Hey, shouldn't you get a name like 'White Knight' with that? For when you earn your Trial of Fire!" She asks pointing to the white tetracerarmide edge.

You blush, looking at the Maduan weapon. A small part of you feels like you do not really deserve this. It's such a good sword. In the right hands, it could certainly be used as a strong weapon against evil.

Salicera's words about your goals echo in your mind and you decide to push down your self-doubt.

You are Master's first disciple in twenty years. This is yet another proof he did not waste his time with you.

In fact, you can' wait to show it to him!

"I can't use that moniker," you confess rubbing your cheek. "Bradiamante di Chiaramonte da Cantàra took it. But perhaps..."

Oh.

Oh, you have an idea.

But it would be so... embarrassing to start calling yourself like that.

"I will have to think about it," you admit, lowering your gaze.

"Let me know when you decide. In the meantime, Rubida should have a spare scabbard for you." She waves her hand at the black-haired girl who is still gaping at you.

Behind Salicera, the well still taunts you.

But now, with your hand safe around this sword... you feel a little more hopeful.

>As you approach Rubida, you decide to briefly try and understand what she talked about with the Blessed Blind. Or at least if it's the kind of information that can help you with the mission.

>While you wait for Rubida to give you a scabbard, you decide to walk back there with Salicera as well, sharing a few words about the impromptu duel. And its surprising result.

I am quite tired so I will be ending it right here for now. Next update tomorrow, as we approach the well and hopefully the second-last part of SKQ's first thread. The last part is a hot spring episode, so try to do your best with rolls! Thanks for playing! If you have questions, I'll try to answer to the best of my abilities.
>>
>>6033669
>As you approach Rubida, you decide to briefly try and understand what she talked about with the Blessed Blind. Or at least if it's the kind of information that can help you with the mission.
let's talk with her some more, we had a lot of time with Salicera already.
>spoiler
wait, why'd we need to roll on a hot spring episode ?
>>
>>6033679
you need good rolls through the actual cult investigation to reach the hot spring episode in good health. and also there might be one very special roll waiting for you right at the start of the hot spring episode.
>>
>>6033669
>While you wait for Rubida to give you a scabbard, you decide to walk back there with Salicera as well, sharing a few words about the impromptu duel. And its surprising result.
Steal Rubida's crush! Crush Rubida's steel!
>>
>>6033669
>As you approach Rubida, you decide to briefly try and understand what she talked about with the Blessed Blind. Or at least if it's the kind of information that can help you with the mission.
>>
>>6033685
husbandu gacha incoming
>>
>>6033755
>anon still thinks Argia is straight after she spend half of a life-or-death struggle ogling Salicera's exposed thigh
>>
>>6033761
1st os all, both aren't mutually exclusive. 2nd she's still a truecel as of now, so the road is open for our choices.
>>
>>6033669
>As you approach Rubida, you decide to briefly try and understand what she talked about with the Blessed Blind. Or at least if it's the kind of information that can help you with the mission.
>>
>>6033679
>>6033731
>>6033885

vs

>>6033717

3 to 1 so far for chatting it up to Rubida. I need to rest a little so I am closing votes in 60 minutes, then update.
>>
>>6033669
>While you wait for Rubida to give you a scabbard, you decide to walk back there with Salicera as well, sharing a few words about the impromptu duel. And its surprising result.
I'm still sad we have a sword, they're so cliché. Oh well.
>>
>>6033669
>As you approach Rubida, you decide to briefly try and understand what she talked about with the Blessed Blind. Or at least if it's the kind of information that can help you with the mission.

>>6033761
Bis exist
>>
>>6034286
>>6034294

5 to 2 total tally, discussing stuff with Rubida about her conversation with the Blessed Blind and the mission.
>>
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>>6033669

“I was told you may have a spare scabbard?” You tentatively ask as you approach Rubida, who is looking a little shaken. “If that is alright with you, of cour—”

She pushes the scabbard into your hand and you start to tie it against your hips, shifting your axe to the left. You may still need it for a piercing attack and if you lose the sword you have a backup weapon. The scabbard does not fit your new blade completely and you push it inside a few sparks go off in the night air.

“Try not to cut yourself with that thing,” Rubida muses.

You sigh.

“I will do my best. Rubida—” you search for the right words. “We need to work together for the time being. I need to know you trust me. Or at the very least that…”

“I said to save it, Candente,” she replies with a groan, crossing her arms over her metal plate. “I want to focus on the mission, that’s all. Investigate this upturned well and then earn at least three or four months off my term. This way I can go back home sooner. If not for me, for Soralisa…”

“Tell me.”

“What else?”

“What I could do to make you trust me. At least for the duration of the mission. Soralisa trusts me. Salicera trusts me,” you say tilting your head towards the brunette, who is still passing her finger over her own nicked blade. “And you have seen what just happened. We have faced the snake of bones together, as well. Just… tell me what you want me to do.”

Rubida gives you a strange look, then glances at the silver ring behind you. She closes her eyes and clicks her tongue.

“I dye my hair,” she whispers with a faint blush.

[cont.]
>>
>>6034413

“Y-You what?”

“I— dye my hair,” she repeats. “Do you want the entire camp to hear, you fool? My natural shade is still black, but I need a little— support to make them really stand out. The black is still a family trait, mind you!”

You frown, trying to connect what she just said with the task at hand. This is not a festival or a party. Why would she—

“I have tinctures,” she explains, doing just like the Blessed Blind did and taking a lock of your silver hair around her fingers. “Tch, these feel so thick. So? What if I were to dye them for you?”

You almost reply that you don’t have time, but there is something inside you that stops you. If she is mentioning hair right now it must be important. Especially if it’s about dyeing them.

How would you feel if—

You could look at yourself in the mirror with the same black shade as Rubida’s.

Black. Common, reassuring, black hair.

You would stop standing out in a crowd.

You would feel at ease.

You would also be a liar.

Sighing, you take off Master’s cape, showing your head to the full light of the silver ring for the first time since you have been forced to leave Master. Your mane catch the argent brightness, seem to grow fuller under it.
“The men who stole and destroyed our orchard were liars and deceivers,” you say, looking firmly at Rubida. “I do not want to become like that.”

Rubida chuckles. She shakes her head, withdrawing her hand.

“By the Sun-Birther, Candente. You are as stubborn as the roots of the hills, and not for your own good. You could end all this with a little bit of powder and dust, and yet you refuse. You are such a fool.” She pauses and goes back to looking at your eyes, deep blue piercing into your own sharp, icy ones. You do not falter. “But a honest fool nonetheless.”

Rubida takes a step back as she keeps adjusting her throwing knives, checking them for safety.

“So be it. You will keep your hair and I will keep close to by you. For tonight only, of course. Does this work for you?”

“Y-Yes,” you reply with a sudden grin, reaching out to safely tuck all your hair beneath it. Rubida also put you on a test, but you passed it! And you even understood it was a test.

It was different from sparring with Salicera, but maybe you are starting to get the hang of this.

The black-haired girl nods and starts to pick up her things, safely putting them into her backpack.

You lost yours… and who knows where it is now. Then you pat the side of your armour — maybe…

“Ah, it’s still there,” you gratefully say. The bottle of sacred oils. At least it was small enough to tuck into your armour.

[cont.]
>>
>>6034415

“Very well. We are all following Salicera, aren’t we? I hope you did not nick her pride other than her sword with that sparring, Candente.”
“She looked quite pleased,” you reply.

“Of course.” Rubida takes a step towards Salicera as you leave the carriage behind. The martial chaplain is gathering the remaining horses and waiting for you a few steps ahead, where the trail disappears into the forest and leads to the well.

You notice how Rubida’s hand keeps rubbing at her right arm. The arm that was mangled.

“How do you feel?” You ask, unbidden. You’d expect Rubida to bark at you, but she just keeps rubbing and her eyelids seem to grow heavier.

“The Blessed Blind,” she explains. “She gave me one of her own.”

“The bandages?”

You can imagine it wrapped around Rubida’s flesh, Ansàrra’s own blood warming up the horrible wound. A tiny part of you gets jealous that Ansàrra’s blood is touching Rubida’s skin.

“It’s soothing, it’s as if—” she searches for the words.

“It’s as if you are coming back home, isn’t it?” You prompt, brushing your own fingers against your cameo.

“I cannot say. I don’t think I have words for it, I—” she reaches for her eyes and rubs at them. “Nevermind. Let us continue.”

You nod.

“Thank you. For letting me come with you.”

“You will only thank me later,” she replies sternly. “When all this is done.”

“Very well, ladies-in-wait,” the chaplain welcomes you. “Even if we had to take a few detours along the way, we are finally here. I will wait for you here as you three go inside.”

“Take care of Soralisa,” Rubida reminds him. “Sir.”

“We are doing our best, Dell’Obertengo. Now — I have done a little scouting while you three shared your pleasant chat and played with swords.” He gives Salicera a cruedly-drawn map on a strip of reedpaper.

Your heart tinges with nostalgia for a moment. The paper is a little rough, thick and resistant, and still has a faint red hue. It must have been harvested during the Crimson Days. It’s another piece of home. It depicts a circle surrounded by a few dots, with two straight lines reaching it either from the south or the east.

“I have checked on the well. The pieces of stone are unmovable, but they slowly shift towards the centre, like in a whirlpool. I have found two points of access from either direction. The souther one is a little easier to reach but it is more spread-out, while the eastern one is steeper and it may require you overall less climbing to reach the base of the tower, ah— of the well.”

You three share a look, and Salicera pushes the strip of paper a bit closer to you, her brown eyes inviting you to say something.

>The eastern side looks promising.

>The southern side looks safer.

Something came up and updates may be a little irregular for the next three or four days as I get better. As always, thanks for playing.
>>
>>6034418
>The eastern side looks promising.
no worries OP, take care.
>>
>>6034450
thanks anon I'll try.

also congrats on 500th reply
>>
>>6034462
damn, look how far we came
>>
>>6034499
I truly hope we reach the bump limit before page 10 encroaches, would be the best feeling
>>
>>6034418
>The southern side looks safer.

Hope everything is well boss. Best of luck.
>>
>>6034418
>>The eastern side looks promising.
>>
>>6034418
>The eastern side looks promising.
>>
>>6034418
>The eastern side looks promising.
>>
>>6034418
>The southern side looks safer.
>>
>>6034418
>The eastern side looks promising.
>>
>>6034450
>>6034567
>>6034592
>>6034597
>>6035070

go East 5 votes

>>6034565
>>6034700

go South (also, checked)

60 minutes to final vote tally
>>
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>>6034565

>best of luck

thanks anon. turns out motorcycle crashes are not that fun to be in.

>>6034418

You give both options a bit of thought. You could approach from the south — if it is a bit easier to access. But that would only make sense if Soralisa was still with you.

Rubida is quite athletic, even if she might prove a problem in her full armour.

Also, Her sun rises in the east.

“We should take the eastern road,” you say at last. “Salicera should walk ten steps ahead of us, while we should stay within arm’s length. My range has increased a little bit, and you should make use of your knives effectively.”

“Good thinking, Candente,” the martial chaplain muses. “Perhaps your meeting with the Blessed Blind has truly cleared your head.”

“It has always been quite clear, Sir.”

“It seems we will have more than one chance to find out,” Rubida scoffs. “Salicera, make way please?”

The martial chaplain watches the three of you leave for the topmost part of the hill, slowly turning towards the carriage when you disappear inside the cover of trees. After your encounter with the Malostromo, you doubt you are ever going to feel safe again in a forest — yet the branches and trunks stand still and silent.

There’s just a far-off sound, like flutes. Strange. Maybe it’s the wind sifting inside some hollow trunk.

And yet — nothing shifts, nothing lunges. Just a soft creaking of wood under the caress of the night wind. Blades of silver light peek through the foliage and the air smells like dew and soft earth. The Malostromo’s influence is truly gone, it seems.

Ahead of you, Salicera keeps turning her head left and right, her eyes peering into the night. She seems to always know where to look and he movements are always graceful, stepping over the roots and the stones. Not for the first time, you envy her night sight.

“What should we expect?” You murmur to Rubida who gives you an uncertain look. “I meant— given your past experiences.”

“I would not know. It seems to be different each time. The Seven Sisters are capricious and—”

Salicera has stopped. You slowly raise your weapon as you tap on Rubida’s shoulder. Her hand runs to her throwing knife. But Salicera is looking down, a concerned look on her face. She moves something with her boot and—

“You should see this,” she calls you two.

[cont.]
>>
>>6035322

When Salicera pushes something towards you with her boot you did not expect this.

It’s a body.

It’s a corpse—

No, wait. It is still breathing. Somehow.

“What is this?” You whisper through gritted teeth. Next to you, someone left out a strangled gasp. For a moment, Rubida’s face crumples with sorrow and the echoes of fear. Then she holds onto her right arm and tries to calm herself. You understand the sentiment. During your travels with Master you saw your share of horrible things, as well as monsters. Corpses and skeletons should not faze you. But this—

The man lays on his side, his arms tied behind his back. He wears a thin grey robe that covers most of his body, leaving just his naked ankles and feet exposed. He does not seem to mind, somehow. His gaunt chest shudders with each breath, and his face — what remains of his face — is encrusted by what look like bone growths. They have almost completely clogged his mouth and his nose and his ears and his eyes, knitting together to form a calcified mask, full of tiny spikes and spirals.

Taking a deep breath, you cross the distance, Rubida close behind you, and crouch in front of the man. He’s breathing, breathing, whistling — chortling — laughing? It seems to change with each intake of air through the mask.

So up close, you also notice that it’s not really bone.

“This is seashell.” You do not touch it, but your finger points at the growths that have hugged his face in their grip. “It even has a faint mother-of-pearl sheen.”

Whatever this growth may be, the man looks hardly bothered by it. Salicera pushes him forward and shows you his hands are not tied behind his back. He’s holding them in that position, so stiff it looks like a seizure.

And yet it looks like he’s having a great time.

The wind turns, carrying more of those flute-like echoes through the trees.

This man is far from the only one caught in… whatever this may be.

[cont.]
>>
>>6035323

“Let’s leave him there,” Rubida says, stifling a shudder as she gives the body a wide berth. “I do not want to know what is happening to his body anyway.”

“It may be important to the mission,” Salicera counters, leaning forward to take another look.

“Do— not! — touch it!” She hisses, her arm rushing forward to hold Salicera back. “Do not. Leave it alone.”

It, you notice.

“Let’s just find the entrance,” you say, gently pushing Rubida away. Salicera shrugs but complies, resuming your circle to the east. But now, while you walk, you keep hearing those voices — sighing, gasping, hushing, laughing — laughing about what?

Is there a reason they sound so happy? Those grateful voices rake their icy talons down your back.

“There is a brick just floating around,” Salicera says a few steps ahead, pushing against it.

“I said not to touch things!” Rubida shrieks.

“The martial chaplain seemed to have done so and he’s fine — he was right. These feel bolted to the air.” The brick is large, black and it floats at about head-height from the ground.

“Yet he did not tell us about the bodies.”

“Maybe he did not find them.”

Maybe he did not see them, or maybe he did not want to tell you, you think, going back to Astoria’s words. This is a trial for the three of you… and mostly for you and Salicera.

“Let’s continue.” You turn your head to the west. “The well is getting closer.”

You three make your way through the trees as Salicera leads you between the occasional laying body. Sometimes it’s a woman, sometimes it’s a man — all of them with their faces eaten by mother pearl seashell. In a horrific way it reminds you of home.

At last, Salicera stops at the edge of the tree. The well truly looks like a windowless, doorless tower scraping against the night, its bulk made even more stark by the faint gleam of the planetary ring.

“He did not mention those either,” she mutters. You and Rubida reach her and you understand what she means.

[cont.]
>>
>>6035324

The eastern side of the tower is littered with pieces of floating wall. The bricks are in the hundreds now, and you already spot a way up. From here you see the faint outline of stairs going… up? Down? Into the well.

But there is something else you have to deal with before those.

Floating in front of you are three bodies. Two women and a man.

They hung in the air, motionless, surrounded by a circle of seven bricks; their bodies are folded backwards, so that their head rests between their legs, and they are all facing you with their seashell masks completely engulfing their head, like a blooming corolla of mother pearl. Unlike the others, they draw no breath.

It seems the well without doors or windows still has a threshold.

>Approach the floating bodies carefully, passing through the outline of the door.

>Go around them, trying to make as little noise as possible.

>Touch the bodies with a stick or throw a pebble at them to see if they react

>Suggest something else (write-in)

seashells are cute, ain't them? This was another fun update to write all things considered. I am stuck home for the time being so I may make a new update in a few hours.
>>
>>6035322
>motorcycle crashes
Eeeesh. Heal up soon, QM. Nothing too serious, I hope?

>>6035326
>Touch the bodies with a stick or throw a pebble at them to see if they react
>>
>>6035326
>Go around them, trying to make as little noise as possible.
what a strange situation. btw really nice to see your creativity at play, OP.
>>
>>6035322
>motorcycle crashes
Ouch. Never had the pleasure, though I did flip a 2-seat convertible sports car going 75 once. No breaks, but I nearly bled out from a spleen laceration when it tried to tear it's self apart. Hope you feel better and it wasn't too bad.

>>6035326

>Touch the bodies with a stick or throw a pebble at them to see if they react
>>
>>6035337

>nothing too serious

the worst of it was scraping my left knee so bad it now doubles as a mirror. I need a bit of rest and exercise and I should get better. thanks anon.

>>6035339

thanks. I am a big fan of seashell and sea environments actually.

>>6035355
>flip the convertible, spleen ragù

fuck anon, really hope you are better. it wasn't too bad thankfully. the motorcycle will need some repairs but she did rev up right on start.

I am thinking of naming her 'Kishirra' after this, actually. she does not give up.

Also, 2 votes for touching the bodies, 1 for going around them. 70 more minutes for voting then update.
>>
>>6035326
>Touch the bodies with a stick or throw a pebble at them to see if they react
>>
>>6035403
this makes it 3 to 1 for throwing pebbles at bodies. hope you like a game of squash anon.

Writing!
>>
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>>6035326

You three share a look. Salicera glances at a fallen branch nearby, which you pick up.

“I will do it.”

After all, if Salicera falls— you don’t even want to think about it.

And if it’s Rubida, Soralisa would be heartbroken.

You take the branch and reach for the central figure, the man — you give a light tap on the seashell’s mask.

Your breath catches in your throat.

Nothing happens.

There is no—

Silimma hemeen, mi’kur-ra.
>>
>>6035437

The voice whispers kindly in your ears — kindly, is grinding ice could sound kind. It reminds you of the shrieking noise that makes glass right when it’s about to shatter. And yet it is smooth and soothing as silk.

You shudder as the — face-thing — appears before your face, like the phosphene from looking at Her sun directly. It blinks and shifts and dances like smoke in front of your eyes, and it draws your attention, the mask speaks to you and to you only. You dare not look at the others — what others?

it’s just you and the face.

“Indeed I am not from around here,” you reply.

It would be polite to reply. Most polite.

You are a polite young woman.

The words it whispered burst into meaning right in your mind, you do not recognise them, you have no idea where they come from, but the images they conjure are so intimately familiar.

May you be graced by good health, she-stranger.

The mask looks at you from the depths of its empty sockets. Horns of curves seashell spread from its side, and its mouth is a gnarled grin — or perhaps a scream, from which you see irregular teeth glistening from the dark inside, like rocks eking out of a stormy sea.

Sag’ni-su. Muzuu-anam? Mu.

“I am Argia. Argia Candente. That is my name.”

Introduce thyself. What is your name? Name.

The mask is silent for a while, but it still looks at you from the depth of its sorrowful eye-sockets. They make such a terrible contrast with the grin etched on its lower half.

Far-off and away, your heart thrums waiting for the next question.

Tukumbi dunabi gi-sa? Gidrumusura uri-sa.

You shudder.

The darkness from the empty eye-sockets calls onto you. A darkness to welcome all, a darkness so complete and so utter that you would lose yourself in it, and all would be —

— one.

And there would be no more pain under the Sun.

[cont.]
>>
>>6035440

Would not thou rather lay down under the shadow of the sceptre of long years? It would make for a most comfortable and commodious lodging.[/b]

Laying down and forgetting.

Forgetting all about your hair—

And your family—

And Master.

And Her sun.

Udu ru umu dili.

“N-Nay,” you quiver.

The Sun is just another star.

Why is there such a sorrowful certainty in the mask’s voice? As if it had been here long ere the start of days, and it has seen everything that ever happen.

If you were to pick the mask up and apply it to your face, would you see into the dark?

You wonder if Saint Bragia —

Something warm burns against your chest.

You blink.

The mask awaits an answer.

>“Ha.” You agree. You take the mask and apply it to your face.

>The warmth against your chest reminds you of what’s at stake. Saint Bragia would not rebuke Her sun. You politely refuse.

>You have another question for the mask (write-in) [this may infer you with precious info but cause lingering effects]
>>
>>6035446
>The warmth against your chest reminds you of what’s at stake. Saint Bragia would not rebuke Her sun. You politely refuse.

>You have another question for the mask (write-in)
Why do the people wearing the masks laugh? What makes them so happy?
>>
>>6035446
>The warmth against your chest reminds you of what’s at stake. Saint Bragia would not rebuke Her sun. You politely refuse.
I'm tempted to pick the "game over" option, even if us dying for real is a real possibility early on. btw why didn't the option get greened ?
>>
>>6035462
>why didn't the option get greened ?
Formatting error. Same reason it's all italicized.
>>
>>6035462
because I forgot to correct the /b into a /i so the entire text got italicized
>>
>>6035367
I'm good. It was a grade IV lac, about 1.5 cm away from them needing to go in and take it out but they were able to embolized the arterial bleed so now it just looks like a triangle was cut out of it and I have a little coil wrapped around the ruptured vessel. Complete recovery, and I got to spend 5 days fucked up on dilaudid and flirt with cute ICU nurses. I actually self extracted from the wreck, and until my BP tanked though I just cracked a couple of ribs lol.

>>6035446
>The warmth against your chest reminds you of what’s at stake. Saint Bragia would not rebuke Her sun. You politely refuse.
>>
>>6035503
>got a cool triangle out of it
>flirted with ICU nurses
>self-extracted himself from wreck

if you aren't putting this stuff on your Tinder bio you are missing out anon.

# # # # # #

>>6035461
>>6035462
>>6035503

3 votes, unanimity for now. Update in 4 hours or so.
>>
>>6035446


The Night is all around you. You are tempted to step in. You know there would be no division, there would be no hurt nor hunger —

There would be no joy either.

There would be no triumph.

There would be no friendship, because people can tell apart what is and what it is not—

And this all-encompassing darkness is too similar to oblivion.

“Nay.”

You take a step back, shaking your head. The mask, unmoving, as still as marble, seems to understand. You are surprised it had accepted your refusal so easily. Wonder what happened to the others. What questions they asked, and what sort of answers they received that made them laugh, so happily, so satisfied… so at ease.

“Zìl gi’anna imeam. Bida gestug.”

You shake your head. It is not for you. It is not what you wish for. Bit by bit, you extricate yourself from the Mask’s gaze.

“No. It does not matter.” You try to recall the scent of summer. Something burns against your chest. You look down to see the Cameo and you reach to hold onto it. “Not now and not ever.”

The Night is kind. And patient.

But as far as you are concerned, it can lay in wait forever.

The mask nods and fades away like smoke caught by a crispy morning gale. You blink and you are once again standing next to your companions. Not a moment has passed. They are still looking at the bodies, waiting for something to happen.

It was all in your head, and it only last a heartbeat.

“Was that supposed to do something?” Rubida tilts her head.

“It does not matter anymore,” you reply. “We can pass.”

“How do you know that?” Salicera asks, reaching out to your shoulder.

How do you—

It’s not something you want to share. You feel the coolness of the night reach for your skin as you gently grip on Salicera’s hand and push it away.

“I just know.” You take a step beneath the corpses and they remain still - as unmoving as the bricks surrounding them.

Thank you, Saint, you whisper to yourself. Maybe the Blessed Blind was right and Saint Bragia is truly listening to your plight.

The other two follow you and you aim at the series of bricks and pieces of wall spiralling up into the entrance.

“Salicera, please lead the way again. If something happens, Rubida can cover you and I can cover her.”

“My knives are ready,” the dark-haired lady agrees. Salicera nods as well, jumping on the closest strip of wall. It’s at the height of your chest and she she reaches it in one leap, balancing herself with the grace of a dancer. She then reaches for the next one, and the next one, and soon she’s twenty paces ahead, peering into the well.

You two will have to do this differently.

[cont.]
>>
>>6035910

You search for a spot that’s easier to reach, and you reach four bricks put together, at the height of your knee. You push against them, just in case, but they feel indeed firm.

“I will go first,” you say stepping on them. From here, you can also reach another group of bricks nearby, and then turn to the right to that strip of wall, and then follow Salicera up close… she’s waiting for you, her weapon at the ready. Now it’s just a matter of helping Rubida up. It won’t be that easy, given her heavy armour, but training has made you quite strong.

You hold out your hand.

“It’s a long way.”

“Let’s try and make it short, then,” she huffs, reaching out.

>This will be a test of your strength and climbing skills. You have to reach Salicera who is 3 platforms/steps ahead of you, jumping at the right time and helping Rubida up. Each step is a roll and you get one roll per reply.

>For each reply, roll 1d100+10 and compare it to a DC of 35. A success means you manage to jump one step ahead. A failure means you fall back to the previous step and the DC increases by +1 for each subsequent roll.

>For example: anon rolls 1d100+10, rolls 44 - you advance to the second step. next anon rolls 1d100+10, rolls 67, you advance to the third step. Then anon is unlucky and rolls 1d100+10 but only scores a 13, thus you fall back to the second step. Now the next anon has to roll again 1d100 +10, but the DC is now 36.

>In order to clear this challenge you must reach the fourth step and join Salicera, where you can actually step into the spiralling staircase.

>A nat 100 means you advance two steps in one. A nat 1 means you suffer a bad fall and you may injure yourselves.
>>
Rolled 52 + 10 (1d100 + 10)

>>6035912
Let’s go, hopping for a nat100 for the first roll.
>>
>>6035988

look ma' dubs! good job anon
>>
anons are slow today
>>
>>6036136
it's Saturday
>>
Rolled 99 + 10 (1d100 + 10)

>>6035810
>if you aren't putting this stuff on your Tinder bio you are missing out anon.

Don't use it, but if I ever do, I will but the cool triangle thing to lure them in. "What does he mean he has a cool triangle, I must know more!"

>>6035912
>>
>>6036222
Trips and 1 off from crit...

The triangle missing from my spleen protects.
>>
>>6036222
checked
>>
>>6036222
>99+trips
noice
>>6036226
pls count this as a crit
>>
Rolled 33 + 10 (1d100 + 10)

>>6035912
>>
>>6036528
Dang. That should still be a pass, right?

Should someone who already rolled again to see if we can make it all 4 steps?
>>
>>6036548
It’s not like OP will doot today or in the early morning, so we can afford to wait for a 4th guy.
>>
>>6035988
>>6036222
>>6036528

>>6036548
>>6036553

Salicera is 3 steps ahead of you, hence if you passed each roll you'd have to roll 3 times. You passed the first, second and third DC (last roll was 33+10 = 44 against DC 35) and that's even before applying the bonuses from dubs and trips.

So, yes, you breezed through this. Good job anon.
>>
>>6036850
thanks
>>
>>6035912

62+6 vs 35
109+18 vs 35
43 vs 35

you passed every check!

# # # # # #

You do make it quick. You easily pull Rubida on the first step, but the real challenge starts now. You spot a line of floating bricks which leads to another platform and you slowly lead the way, with Rubida just behind you as she balances herself.

With every step you are climbing higher and higher and the ground starts to look farther and farther away. A fall from here would not be nice.

Rubida seems to share your worries.

"Here, hold on to me," you say landing out your arm. Rubida scoffs but takes it and together you cross over.

Next, you get an idea. You can take the long way up or...

"Keep holding," you say, as you spot another platform a few steps ahead. There's a gulf of air and nothingness between you and that, but--

"Jump on three," you suggest.

Rubida looks at you strangely.

"One."

"Two..."

"Maybe we should reconsider this Cande-"

"Three!" You dash ahead and pull her with you. Rubida shrieks but follows you and you scrape over the edge and jump and land on the new platform, quite gracefully in fact as neither of you even scrapes their heels on the stone.

"What was the meaning of that?"

You just point to the right -- there is a line of bricks that keeps climbing until the very next platform, where Salicera is waiting. They go in a spiral that was hard to see from Rubida's vantage point.

The black-haired girl turns her head, blushing slightly.

"Of course you would think of something like that. Reckless as you are."

"You did ask to make it short," you reply with a little grin. After your smooth landing, you feel like you can allow yourself to grin. Rubida does not seem to agree, but she still follows you on the steps.

Putting your feet on the steps is easy enough -- try to avoid looking down is less so, with the ground so far. But one step at a time, with Rubida's armour clinking and creaking behind you, you two finally reach the platform which Salicera reached.

She does not even mention how much time it took you two to join her. How very knightly.

"Glad you are here. Perhaps you can help me understand how we are supposed to proceed," she says pointing up at the stairs.

You remember spotting a flight of stairs from below. But from your vantage point, you can clearly see that the spiralling staircase is also upside down. The steps loom over you, as if taunting you to try and reach out to them. They are so close you could probably touch them if you stretch your arm... but what's going to happen when you do?

>You are getting used to the weird happenstances around here. You decide to try to brush your fingers against the stairs' stone and see if something happens.

>You decide to be cautious. Perhaps there is a metal bar you can hang onto to keep climbing. You could try to spot it. [If you choose this, roll a 1d100]

>You put Salicera on your shoulders. With how tall the two of you are, you should easily find a pivot point.
>>
>>6036885
>>You are getting used to the weird happenstances around here. You decide to try to brush your fingers against the stairs' stone and see if something happens.
>>
>>6036885
>>You are getting used to the weird happenstances around here. You decide to try to brush your fingers against the stairs' stone and see if something happens.

As fun a Sally on our shoulders would be...
>>
>>6036891
>>6036932

>Salicera on your shoulders

might be a one-time occurrence might be not

Voting ends in 180 mins
>>
>>6037086
>might be a one-time occurrence might be not
>>
>>6036885
>You are getting used to the weird happenstances around here. You decide to try to brush your fingers against the stairs' stone and see if something happens.
We good after mr mask talked to us
>>
>>6037088

as quests mature, the chance for lewdpaste increases, though it never reaches 1 chances are it might not even involve Salicera
>>
>>6037088
What’s the matter anon ? We still can do it with Rúbida another time.
>>
>>6037134
Corarlerry

If my enjoyment of a quest exceeds a certain value, and the quantity of canon lewds is at 0 when the threshold is crossed, the probability of me writing a lewdfic becomes 1.

We can describe it as such:
Em >= Xq
and
Lc=0
then
P(Lff)=1
>>
>>6037261

but that means I am now less lilkely to write a canon lewdfic anon...

Also, 3 votes -- writing!
>>
>>6036885

You look up into the darkness and memories of your encounter with the mask still faze you. The words spoken in that strange language, straight into your mind. What you experienced there — and for what reason. And the words about the Sun being just another star.

Compared to that, this may just be nothing. You stand up on your toes and lightly graze your fingers against the lowest steps of the staircase. You three can probably try to climb to its back and—

“Ahh—?” You gasp as you feel a strange pull to your stomach, the word spins and you stumble forward… on the hard stone. You stand up, and as you look down, you see a sea of blackness. And then you look up at, at the gaping faces of Salicera and Rubida.

Maybe that’s why this settlement had such an easy time dealing with the Malostromo.

“That’s reassuring,” Salicera grins as she holds up her hand, your fingers about to touch. “Now we will know which way to go at least.”

You notice Rubida grimace and hold onto her right arm. You touch Salicera and she also plunges forward… upward… downwards — it’s hard to say — next to you. You two then extend your arms to help Rubida, who is by far the shortest.

“Wait,” she hesitates, “shouldn’t one of us stay here to see if we can come back? What if—” then she shakes her head. “No, I was a fool. Soralisa is waiting for us.” She touches your hands and she stumbles forward, her armour tinkling and clattering and scarping against the wall.

For some reason, your landing was by far the least graceful.

At least, all three of you are here now.

“It’s dark,” Rubida says as she rummages through her backpack. “Candente. Pick one of the torches.”

“Two, if you can, Argia.”

You look at Salicera, surprised.
“What? It’s not like I can see in the utter darkness, I just see better at night because… because I just do.”

You nod. Makes sense.

“Apologies. I should have kept that in mind. There.” You give her one of the torches, which she lights by quickly scraping it against the wall, like a huge match. You are tempted to do the same, but you are afraid you do not possess the same finesse, so you and Rubida do it the old fashioned way, holding the strip of cloth in front of you as it starts to burn.

The light carves the rest of the staircase out of the darkness. it spirals down into the utter black, and you can see something down there, some sort of shape or figure laying down.

Salicera is already starting to take a few steps down.

You two follow her.

“Stay by the wall,” you say pushing Rubida to your right.

“I can walk by myself, Candente.”

You decide to ignore her as you take step after step.

[cont.]
>>
>>6037323

It hits you after a little while.

There are no echoes.

You can barely hear your own breath, and that’s because it scrapes against your lungs. You can hear your voices, but Salicera is utterly silent as she stops in front of one of the figures laying down.

She stops, turns, and gives you a worried look.

You reach her, expecting to see more people with their faces encased in seashell, but it’s just… men and women laying down, sleeping by the wall as the staircase unfurls.

They seem to be sleeping soundly.

And then something — something that feels like a cool, slick hand — grabs your ankle.

>You strike immediately with your new sword. Your have the advantage of surprise and a +18 bonus.

>You freeze and immediately look down at what’s creeping up your leg, sword at the ready.

>You try to pull your leg away, stumbling against Rubida who will have to hold you as your companions notice your plight.


next update in a few hours. Thanks for playing!
>>
>>6037326
>You freeze and immediately look down at what’s creeping up your leg, sword at the ready.
considering there's a lot of innocent people here, I don't wanna mangle someone sleeping that just had a bad luck
>>
>>6037326
>You freeze and immediately look down at what’s creeping up your leg, sword at the ready.
>>
>>6037326

>You freeze and immediately look down at what’s creeping up your leg, sword at the ready.
>>
>>6037311
There is nothing saying that the pretense of cannon lewds means the absence of lewd fanfics, just that if there are none and I like the characters enough, I will probably end up writing about your characters doing fun shit with each other. Hell cannon lewds might be what tips the first requirement over the edge. You are also almost assuredly a better writer than me.

>>6037326

>You freeze and immediately look down at what’s creeping up your leg, sword at the ready.
>>
>>6037372
>>6037593
>>6037734
>>6037860


unanimity again. writing!

>if I like the characters enough, I will probably end up writing some stuff

something possibly to look up to then! also don't sell yourself short, anon
>>
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>>6038013

You recoil, but manage to stay in place as you look down. The thing that’s grabbing your ankle is a pale, thin hand sticking out of a long grey sleeve. One of the women who lay on their back has turned her face at you - her face which is as pale as a clam, slick with either sweat or tears. Her eyes are shut and she is smiling. Her other hand, you notice, is linked with the man lying next to her, who is also holding someone else’s hand and so on and so forth, descending to the edge of the crackling, dancing torchlight.

Rubida frowns and crouches to pry the pale fingers off your ankle.

“Thanks,” you whisper. The hand falls to the floor, twitching and slowly curling like a dying spider, as if begging to hold onto something again. You turn your gaze towards the lines of sleeping bodies. What you can see of rising chests between the mess of dirty cloth and robes tells you that every one of them is deep asleep.

And for some reason that once again makes those icy talons rake down your back — they all share the same peaceful smile upon their face.

The Night is kind.

The mask’s words echo.

You shiver, even if the air inside the well feels warm.

“We should probably watch out,” you state as Salicera starts to walk further down, her light bobbing and wavering with each step she takes. “There might be more wandering hands.”

But as you follow your brown-haired lead, you only see hands that are already taken. The sleeping people seem to have been here for a long time, you notice. Some of their clothes have become soiled, some covered in dust. There is a gravely stillness that reminds you of stepping into a ruined building. And still the staircase spirals down.

You look up at the ground — the opening circle is much smaller than before. You must have walked at least a hundred steps down, perhaps more. At this point, who can say? A sting of regret hits your chest as you remind yourself you should have counted them.

Salicera walks past the last sleeping body, through a tall arch that leads to a different room. From the light cast off her torch you see it has a polished floor, black as jet and just as reflective. Salicera’s slender form hesitates as she looks at her sides.

“There are mirrors everywhere,” she says, and her voice echoes and scatters.

[cont.]
>>
>>6038042

“Is it safe?” You ask as you two step in as well. Your three torches glint in the hundreds of mirrors that cover every surface. The room — more like a hall, really — stretches for about sixty paces in every direction, but the ceiling disappears up into the blackness. Or perhaps that’s the bottom and you are walking on the room’s ceiling. At this point it’s hard to say.

Whatever it may be, the hall looks empty, save for a shifting veil at the other end of it.

“Seems so,” Salicera muses, looking left as right as she keeps walking towards the veil. “I can’t seem to see any exit, though.”

You hesitate. A room without an exit has another name — trap. You raise your sword as you notice how your shape is caught by the mirrors.

Dozens, hundreds, thousands of flat grey eyes, some framed in metal, others framed in wood, they all seem to peek back at you like an eager stranger at the edge of town, his smile not really reaching his eyes.

The reflections in the mirrors keep shifting and dancing and broiling like dark flames. You toss another look at the shifting veil, and you spot what look like to be six… no seven figures behind it. Six in a circle and one in the centre.

You shudder.

[cont.]
>>
>>6038044

# # # # # #

Master uses his boot to turn the corpse over. It’s a young woman, her long blonde hair caught in her mouth, some of it sticky with rusted blood. Her pale face looks too white — almost blue — blood has left her through the chest, and the rictus on her lips is lingering between pain and ecstasy in a manner that makes you shiver.

“See the chest?” Master asks pointing the black tip of his relic weapon at it. Kishirra’s poleaxe glints like crystallised fire in the sunset light, its edge akin to a slice of the red-tinged heavens set against black. The poor girl’s torso has been broken by something — the ribs cracked and pushed out from the inside. It reminds you of a small bird caught in a patch of quickmud you spotted when you were a child. You remember being moved to pity and reaching out to free it, being filled with sorrow when the bird limped away with a broken, twitchy wing. So, you do as Master says as you—

—look. At the chest.

It’s a shattered hole - vaguely circular, surrounded by six other holes. Your sixteen years-old body feels cold and clammy at the sight. You have seen wounds before, but this one has a sort of rawness to it — the small pieces of flesh still lingering to the wound’s lip, the blood that has stained the grass red, the smell like old meat, raking against your throat, the dullness of the girl’s large blue eyes.

Then Master moves the tip of his poleaxe one pace to the right, following the trail of blood. Laying on the grass is the girl’s heart. It has shrivelled. Reminds you of the lamb’s heart your father was always so keen to cook last, as a delicacy. Something acrid rises in your mouth.

“That is what they do, Argia. Each of them — the Seven Sisters seek to incarnate, over and over again, and we always have to be on the watch for signs, such as this.

He stabs the heart. There is no flame running up the blindglass’ blade, but the withered heart sizzles, pops and with a gasp of hot air it bursts into flame.

As You watch Master dispose of it, something inside you makes you glance at the dead girl again.

Her eyes are close now.


# # # # # #


[cont.]
>>
Rolled 60, 20, 20 + 49 = 149 (3d100 + 49)

>>6038045

Your grip around the hilt tightens.

“Candente,” calls you Rubida. “Those mirrors look strange.” She raises her torch and squints.

And then something else catches your attention. From one of the mirrors closer to Salicera, a man-shaped form steps out, holding a long sword. It reaches for Salicera, who is transfixed, looking at the veil.

The sword in its hand twitches and it lowers it, instead extending its hand to touch Salicera’s shoulders—

“Salicera!” You shout.

But something else happens — right at your side, like smoke caught by the wind, another of those figures starts to coalesce. It stands next to you, lifting a smokey sword from the ground and taking your attention away from what Salicera is doing.

Looks like you have more pressing problems right now.

>Combat roll, Bo3: 1d100+17+8 vs my rolls. Beat at least one. As always, dubs or trips, if they happen, will be added to dice results (mine or yours).
>>
Rolled 24 + 25 (1d100 + 25)

>>6038047
it's time, also thankfully 2 of them were low. nasty bonus they have. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z9NYDgbKsBE
>>
>>6038047
shit
>>
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Rolled 27 + 25 (1d100 + 25)

>>6038047

Lets Goooooooo!
>>
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>>6038093
Damn it, I forgot to mention the cool triangle, bringer of the only decent luck I have had in weeks rolling. I am ashamed.
>>
>>6038052
>>6038093

2 out of 2 failures

do not despair anon, you still have ONE roll. I am sure you will do better.
>>
Rolled 3 + 25 (1d100 + 25)

>>6038047
3rd time's the charm
>>6038052
>>6038093
don't fret anons, because now I'm here
>>
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>>6038135
the stilladìa is behind our bad luck
>>
>>6038136
You should have bought her merchandise anon
>>
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Rolled 28 + 25 (1d100 + 25)

>>6038140
I would buy a hug pillow. Maybe a fumo Stilladia.

Testing for fun. Cool triangle protects.
>>
>>6038159
Well that didn't work. We might want to get all these shit rolls out of Argia's system, and soon.
>>
Rolled 93, 58, 95 + 5 = 251 (3d100 + 5)

>>6038052
>>6038093
>>6038135

109, 69, 69
vs
49, 52, 28

all 3 fails

big sad incoming

# # # # # #

You try to block the incoming blade, but it passes through your sword like smoke. The figure's weapon reaches closer and it passes through your body, leaving an icy trail in its wake. You let out a surprised and pained gasp at the freezing touch.

"N-No," you groan, trying to hold onto your sword long enough to strike the wispy apparition, but it keeps dancing about your swings, taunting you with its ephemeral swiftness.

And that leaves you more open to its lunges.

"Ah!" You shriek as the smoky blade cuts through you another time. You wince while the unnatural cold spreads through your limbs, making them feel heavy and stiff.

Then the thing swings at your chest and you should dodge, but your body feels so cold --

"Hnnhffh!"

The weapon of misty smoke pierces your chest, a burst of glacial stiffness starting to spread from the point where it touched you.

You fall on your knee.

The apparition comes closer, rising its weapon once more - it has taken more defined shape, and you notice, amidst the spreading cold that makes your teeth chitter, the smoke turning into grey mist turning into a sort of opalescence. A body just tall as you, with short grey hair and striking eyes in its pale face. Covered in your own clothes and brandishing a copy of your own weapon.

Your double impassively raises its weapon for another strike, but in so doing exposes its chest.

You have to retaliate now -- because you also have the feeling that the next strike won't just make you feel cold. The figure and the sword are getting a bit too corporeal.

>Bo3: 1d100+17+8-6 [from the streak of 3 losses you just suffered], hence total 1d100+19, against a DC of 75.
>>
>>6038159

>fumo Stilladìa

one day I will make it happen
>>
Rolled 73 + 19 (1d100 + 19)

>>6038168
>>
Rolled 53 + 19 (1d100 + 19)

>>6038168
what would be the dc if we got the success ?
>>6038181
thanks, anon
>>
Rolled 74, 43, 95 + 66 = 278 (3d100 + 66)

>>6038191
>what would the DC be

you got a DC because your previous rolls put you in this situation. if you had succeeded things would have gone a little differently.

>2 rolls

I might be able to write a very quick update before bed
>>
>>6038200
now it's Salicera's time to shine
>>
Rolled 62 + 19 (1d100 + 19)

>>6038168
>>
File: smoke and mirrors.png (2.91 MB, 1514x1218)
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>>6038181
>>6038191
>>6038247

>92
>72
>81

good job anon.

# # # # # #

You push through the icy feeling and strike, plunging your sword right in the apparition's chest. It crunches through what feels like a layer of encrusted ice and the figure shakes, shatters and its fragments shrivel into ribbons of thin black smoke on the floor. Nothing else remains.

You feel a shiver run through your body. That was close...

"Unf... unf," you gasp for air, slowly standing up. Next to you, Rubida is easily avoiding her own figure's strikes, her torch casting wavering light back and forth. That phantom also seems to slowly coalesce into a more defined form, even if it's taking much more time. Maybe they steal... the heat from your body in order to make themselves more tangible.

Salicera is also keeping her distance, dancing through the smoke figure's lunges, her braid tracing arcs, while she holds her own torch closer to her body, which makes the shorter shadows cast by her body skip and jump like a wavering flower bloom. The shadowy figure seems hardly bothered by it.

You reach for your torch, which has fallen to the floor, and try to push your thoughts past the icy grip that has overtaken your body. Little by little... maybe helped by the soothing warmth coming from the Cameo, you feel yourself get better.

Of course. Bragia Lacresta wouldn't have fallen to just a bit of smoke and mirrors, no matter how literal.

You advance to help Rubida but then you notice something else: from behind her, as the scattered torchlight which endlessly reflects on the polished glass, there is a pulse of movement from one of the hundreds -- thousands -- of mirrors hanging on the walls and another smoke shape passes through the gleaming glass, dashing towards you on noiseless steps.

This situation is growing direr by the minute.

>You are better prepared and the sensation of cold from before is leaving you. You wait for the shadow thing to come nearer -- you just have to wait for it to coalesce and then you can shatter it again. [Bo3 combat roll like before, your penalty will be -4 instead of -6]

>You noticed it come through the mirror. Perhaps if you shatter it... but there thousands upon thousands of mirrors, leading up into the endless ceiling. Still, you could try to dash for one of them and break it-- [Bo3 combat roll against DC to break the mirror.]

>You decide to take a moment and study the situation. Perhaps there is another way out of this... if you think about everything that happened, you might find a solution. You may not be the bookish type but Master has trained you sharp! [Discuss, agree on what to do. If you get the right answer, you will get a banked roll (and also it will be, you know, the correct answer...). If you take a wrong guess, you'll automatically fail the combat roll against the shade (which means a further -6 penalty from the cold and it turns corporeal).

next update after bedtime. think carefully about this. See ya!
>>
>>6038273

>You noticed it come through the mirror. Perhaps if you shatter it... but there thousands upon thousands of mirrors, leading up into the endless ceiling. Still, you could try to dash for one of them and break it-- [Bo3 combat roll against DC to break the mirror.]
>>
>>6038273
alright, since 1 and 2 seems like temporary solutions, any anon wanna try big brain what we could do here ?
>>
>>6038279
Is it the torchlight? A mirror cant reflect shit if there is no light.
>>
>>6038279
I have tried to give you enough hints and suggestions through the latest update's wording, so if you have doubts read it again. If nothing else, you can also think about the words of the mask, as they may contain a hint as well, which goes in the same direction as the wording.

>>6038276
>>6038281

I won't say anything but I like where this is going. get that nogging going, anon, show Ansàrra you are not just a pair of plump buttcheeks and a massive ly cute inferiority complex
>>
>>6038281
I will expound. Perhaps if we use the same sanction power with the blood and fire instead of a normal torch, the Holy fire's light might do something.

That or putting out the torches. All but one perhaps since multiple sources of light = more shadows being cast?
>>
>>6038287
speaking of plump and cute, doot pic got a hold of me, OP.
>>
>>6038042
>he Night is kind.
>The mask’s words echo.

>>6038273
>You advance to help Rubida but then you notice something else: from behind her, as the scattered torchlight which endlessly reflects on the polished glass, there is a pulse of movement from one of the hundreds -- thousands -- of mirrors hanging on the walls and another smoke shape passes through the gleaming glass, dashing towards you on noiseless steps.

>>6038281
yup, that's it we gotta put out the torches
>>
>>6038308
But then we can't see. Can't we just shatter the mirrors? Does anyone have a sanction to do that faster?
>>
>>6038323
we can turn it on after we leave here or use some sanction
>>
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>>6038323
We can check if no light is correct, have Argia be ready to use her fire sanction if it doesn't so we can see to fight.

Sally has good night visionbecause she is secretly evil as well as being gay if not actual Darkvision. If turning the lights out does work, we could see if she can make the path out and have the girls form a gay little conga line with her at the front to get out of here. Could also test if light that comes from fire made by a Sanction activates the mirrors and reflections/shades.
>>
>>6038292
>>6038308
>>6038374

For now consensus seems to be: turn the torches off, check what happens. As a plan B, get a Sanction ready.

You could certainly petition for one, but asking for Sanctions requires time and focus, and right now might not be the best time to do that.

You can certainly act quick enough to snuff out at least Rubida's torch and yours, though.

>night vision

remember that Salicera does not actually see in the dark, she just has far better low-light vision (which also makes her more susceptible to dazzling and blinding).

I will allow 10 more hours for voting and discussing, then I will start tallying up the votes on what to do. For the time being, there seems to be a majority for snuffing out the lights. As I said before: I like where this is going.

>>6038294

you mean the pic from the latest update? If I find the link again I will share it, anon
>>
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>>6038685
>I like where this is going.

Just hope you like it because we figured something out and not because the girls are going to get fucked if we go with snuffing the lights.

Guess we will see. We will. Not them. Because it will be dark. Be dark, and they might have to grop around to find one another. Emphasis on the gropping part.
>>
>>6038738
>groping around
>posts psycho flattie

anon...
>>
>>6038685
>you mean the pic from the latest update? If I find the link again I will share it, anon
Thanks, saucenao gave nothing so I’ll be waiting.
>>6038738
KEK, anon relax. They’re all chaste women in training after all.
>>
Rolled 91, 69, 27 = 187 (3d100)

>>6038292
>>6038308

Turning off the lights

>>6038276

Crashing this mirror with no survivors

Though I wouldn’t have minded a few more votes, we still reached a majority! Writing. Oh, and enjoy your banked roll.
>>
>>6038974
neat
>>
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Rolled 36, 16, 61 + 19 = 132 (3d100 + 19)

>>6038273

Your banked roll is

>91

# # # # # #

You glance at the mirrors once more, trying to understand what exactly is going on.

The smoke figures are coming out of those, so if you were to shatter them… but there’s hundreds of them! And they reach all the way up to the disappearing ceiling, so there’s just no way you could reach them all.

But then—

Wait.

The glint of torchlight on the glass. Your heart skips a beat as your mind connects the dots and you can almost picture Master looking at you with a satisfied smile. Of course!

“The Night is kind,” you mutter. That is a lie, especially considered what most likely falls behind that veil. But it’s the best thing you can do night now. You throw your torch to the ground and the strip of cloth bursts into a shower of sparks. You stomp on it and the flame dies.

There’s still enough light to see, though. The shadowy form is getting closer, but it does look a little fainter, a little less defined. You turn to your right and notice how the one facing Rubida is also starting to finally coalesce, while the black-haired girl keeps trying to avoid its strikes, and the light from her torch dances madly.

You aim your sword for the shadow’s back.

>Bo3, DC 70

[cont.]
>>
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>>6038993

The white edge of the tetracerarmide’s blade shrieks as it shatters the vision right as it’s about to swing its sword against Rubida. As it disappears into fine mist, Rubida looks at you with wide blue eyes.

“Candente? What did… where your torch?”

“We need to put those off!” You shout. Just as the words leave your lips and Salicera turns briefly to give you a curious look, the shadowy figure reaches for Rubida again. You push her away and the swing goes wide as her strip of burning cloth almost leaves her hand.

“How are we going to see? What if something even worse happens, Candente?”

You… have no answers to that.

“Hey! Aren’t you fashioned after my size? Come and get the original!” You cry out as you swing your sword at the mist double. Of course, your thrust passes through it, as faint as a bout of air. But it does turn to face you and raises its weapon. You get ready to avoid it. “I don’t know, Rubida. But we can’t keep fighting these— ohh, Starless Night that was close!”

The next swing almost touches your neck. Wonder what will happen if one of those pierces your chest again… you are slowly recovering your strength, but it’s easy to picture yourself dying from the cold from too many swings, and that’s without the fact they are becoming corporeal.

Behind the shade you are trying to keep focused on yourself, you see Rubida looking at you, then at the strip of cloth, then at you again.

“Please,” you ask.

>Rubida decides to trust you. She extinguishes the torch. From now on, she will consider everything that happens during this mission as a consequence of trusting you with her life, so you should be ready to shoulder that responsibility. [Your rapport has a chance to grow and ultimately stabilise into proper friendship, but if the mission goes bad she will blame it on you alone.]

>Rubida cannot let go of her torch. She pulls away from you, shaking her head. Her face looks pale white — in this room, with the presence of the Seven Sisters so close, her trauma has raised its ugly head, and she refuses to believe you. [Your rapport does not develop, but if things go bad she won’t blame you.]

damn, 600 replies. It’s a bit hard to believe. Thank you so much for playing, everyone. Now let’s try and reach the end of the thread’s shelf light…
>>
>>6039008
>Rubida cannot let go of her torch. She pulls away from you, shaking her head. Her face looks pale white — in this room, with the presence of the Seven Sisters so close, her trauma has raised its ugly head, and she refuses to believe you. [Your rapport does not develop, but if things go bad she won’t blame you.]
>>
>>6039008
>Rubida decides to trust you. She extinguishes the torch. From now on, she will consider everything that happens during this mission as a consequence of trusting you with her life, so you should be ready to shoulder that responsibility. [Your rapport has a chance to grow and ultimately stabilise into proper friendship, but if the mission goes bad she will blame it on you alone.]
go big or go home
>>
>>6038771
I like small tits and it was mostly due to her having a good time...

>>6039008
>>Rubida decides to trust you. She extinguishes the torch. From now on, she will consider everything that happens during this mission as a consequence of trusting you with her life, so you should be ready to shoulder that responsibility. [Your rapport has a chance to grow and ultimately stabilise into proper friendship, but if the mission goes bad she will blame it on you alone.]

>>6038993
Are you asking for us to roll?
>>
>>6039028
nah, it was his own roll and we passed it
>>
>>6039028
>like small tits

based. it was just that there was not a lot for groping

also no. No rolling for now. I just rolled that interaction instead of writing it as a sort of experiment.
>>
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>>6039018
>>6039024
>>6039028

interesting votes so far.

I will allow voting for the next 12 hours. If you have questions I will try to answer them.

Also, for that anon who wanted the full pic of the ghost, you can find it here:

>https://img3.gelbooru.com/images/a7/5c/a75cd5777bd517ab0923c597f21082c4.jpg

I couldn't post it because itty bitty tiddies and this is a blue board, let's all behave properly.

See you in a bit anon, I will be working on some other tale in the meanwhile. Deadlines approach
>>
>>6039084
>/img3.gelbooru.com/images/a7/5c/a75cd5777bd517ab0923c597f21082c4.jpg
thanks OP. she's going into my list of fuckable ghosts, the only other one being sadako.
>>
>>6039008
>Rubida cannot let go of her torch. She pulls away from you, shaking her head. Her face looks pale white — in this room, with the presence of the Seven Sisters so close, her trauma has raised its ugly head, and she refuses to believe you. [Your rapport does not develop, but if things go bad she won’t blame you.]
>>
>>6039008
>Rubida decides to trust you. She extinguishes the torch. From now on, she will consider everything that happens during this mission as a consequence of trusting you with her life, so you should be ready to shoulder that responsibility. [Your rapport has a chance to grow and ultimately stabilise into proper friendship, but if the mission goes bad she will blame it on you alone.]

Go big, or go home.
>>
>>6039008
>Rubida decides to trust you. She extinguishes the torch. From now on, she will consider everything that happens during this mission as a consequence of trusting you with her life, so you should be ready to shoulder that responsibility. [Your rapport has a chance to grow and ultimately stabilise into proper friendship, but if the mission goes bad she will blame it on you alone.]
>>
>>6039008
>Rubida cannot let go of her torch. She pulls away from you, shaking her head. Her face looks pale white — in this room, with the presence of the Seven Sisters so close, her trauma has raised its ugly head, and she refuses to believe you. [Your rapport does not develop, but if things go bad she won’t blame you.]
>>
>>6039008
>Rubida decides to trust you. She extinguishes the torch. From now on, she will consider everything that happens during this mission as a consequence of trusting you with her life, so you should be ready to shoulder that responsibility. [Your rapport has a chance to grow and ultimately stabilise into proper friendship, but if the mission goes bad she will blame it on you alone.]
>>
>>6039018
>>6039134
>>6039829

Rubida NO (3 votes)

>>6039024
>>6039028
>>6039375
>>6039710
>>6039853

Rubida YES (5 votes)

nice, 8 votes! Thanks for voting everyone, this was an important turn in the story, it's nice to see involvement.

Tally is over and I will start writing the update shortly.
>>
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Rolled 58, 19, 80 + 66 = 223 (3d100 + 66)

>>6039008

Rubida hesitates. Her blue eyes scan the darkness, the smoky figure you are struggling with, pass over the endless rows of polished mirrors. Firelight has been your only guide so far. This deep in the realm of the Seven Sisters, will you even be able to reach out to Ansàrra? If you turn those torches off, won't you be left stumbling in the dark, like blind pigs led to slaughter?

But then a glint of understanding goes off in her eyes and you'd be even more glad to see it if you did not have to keep dodging your misty double's lunges as they freeze the air inches away off your face.

After all, you have been right once before. You saved Soralisa, which is also something Rubida did not forget.

"I will hold you responsible, Candente. If I die, I am going to haunt you in this world and the next!" She throws the strip of cloth on the ground, just like you did, and stomps on it.

The shade grows around you. The only light comes from Salicera, who is still observing the two of you, but now that you and Rubida lay in almost complete darkness, the misty figure passes through you, making you feel just a faint cooling sensation, and then it disappears into nothingness amidst the sea of encroaching black.

"Told you she was smart," Salicera muses, changing the rhythm to her dance and turning to strike at her misty double.

[cont.]
>>
>>6039894

Salicera's longword shears through the apparition. She gives you two a pleased grin at her own shown of swordsmanship, and then snaps her torch's wooden shaft, stomping on the remnants.

With her first stomp, you reach out to Rubida, holding her by the shoulder as the mirrors disappear from sight, and with them any other smoky double.

With her second, only Salicera's foot is barely visible on the fluttering embers. Faint remnants of the day, reminders of the memories of summer that still wait for you outside.

And with the third, the hall of the mirrors plunges into total darkness, and the black floods your eyes, and no matter how much you blink, it doesn't get off.

The place is utterly dark.

>You call out to Salicera and try to reach her first. It's better to keep together, and maybe keep holding each other as you try to reach for a door. The closest you stay, the better, and the straight way is often the closest... if you can manage a way to find it in the darkness.

>You link arms with Rubida first, and reassure Salicera she is here with you and safe. You keep the roles you decided at the start, and Salicera's is opening the way. Besides, she's closest to the opposite wall. If there's an exit, she can find it before you two. You just hope she doesn't accidentally trips against the veil and the seven people you saw behind it.

>You plead the other two to reach the wall to your left and reach for the mirrors. This way you can follow the wall until you reach the opposite side, and you won't risk stumbling upon the veiled dais and the seven figures it contains. At least you already know the mirror's threats.
>>
>>6039897
>You link arms with Rubida first, and reassure Salicera she is here with you and safe. You keep the roles you decided at the start, and Salicera's is opening the way. Besides, she's closest to the opposite wall. If there's an exit, she can find it before you two. You just hope she doesn't accidentally trips against the veil and the seven people you saw behind it.
friends strong together
>>
>>6039897
>You link arms with Rubida first, and reassure Salicera she is here with you and safe. You keep the roles you decided at the start, and Salicera's is opening the way. Besides, she's closest to the opposite wall. If there's an exit, she can find it before you two. You just hope she doesn't accidentally trips against the veil and the seven people you saw behind it.

>>6038323 is me
>>
>>6039897
>>You link arms with Rubida first, and reassure Salicera she is here with you and safe. You keep the roles you decided at the start, and Salicera's is opening the way. Besides, she's closest to the opposite wall. If there's an exit, she can find it before you two. You just hope she doesn't accidentally trips against the veil and the seven people you saw behind it.

>Use our sword like a blind person's cane. Just keep the tip downward so we don't accidentally impale someone.
>>
>>6039903

>frens together strong!

>>6040053
>>6040064

>use sword like a cane

interesting suggestion anon

>so that we don't impale someone

tetracerarmide is sharp


interesting votes so far. I can't promise an update straight after bedtime but I will try. At any rate, at least 8 more hours for voting.
>>
>>6039897
>You link arms with Rubida first, and reassure Salicera she is here with you and safe. You keep the roles you decided at the start, and Salicera's is opening the way. Besides, she's closest to the opposite wall. If there's an exit, she can find it before you two. You just hope she doesn't accidentally trips against the veil and the seven people you saw behind it.
>>
>>6039897
>>You link arms with Rubida first, and reassure Salicera she is here with you and safe. You keep the roles you decided at the start, and Salicera's is opening the way. Besides, she's closest to the opposite wall. If there's an exit, she can find it before you two. You just hope she doesn't accidentally trips against the veil and the seven people you saw behind it.
>>
>>6040077
We could stick our sheath on the sword, I suppose, if we use it as a cane. Probably would give a malus to first round of combat if we need to draw it I guess, but we are already fighting in the dark so IDK.
>>
>>6039903
>>6040053
>>6040064
>>6040079
>>6040111

>link arms with Rubida and let Salicera explore, maintaining your combat roles

>>6040133

might be a good idea.

Writing!
>>
>>6039897

The darkness feels like it’s trying to seep into your skull. Even if you blink, it’s like trying to push against the night.
“Rubida,” you call out, feeling her arm linking with yours. Tighter, now. In the dark, your others senses are slowly getting sharper. The texture of her clothes, the cool hardness of her armour beneath your gloves. “Hold on.”
“I am doing precisely that, Candente,” she replies, her voice stiff.
“Are you alright?”
“I am doing fantastic, thank you. At the very least it seems those shadows can’t reach out anymore.”
“I suppose they were attracted by the light. We will have to find an exit in the darkness.” Then you raise your voice. “Salicera!”
“I am here,” she replies immediately after, from what you could say about twenty paces away. Or maybe twelve? It’s hard to say.
Even if touch and hearing are sharper, you feel like you are floating. From time to time you feel Rubida’s pull on you arm change as she shifts, trying to keep standing. You don’t know where to put your next foot and this is an ancestral terror that’s gnawing at your heart.
“Alright. Alright,” you remind yourself. You three are all here. Everything is going well. Or at least it’s going better than before. There is no need to panic.
Absolutely no need.
“Salicera,” you call out. “Please try to find an exit. Mind the veil and the dais, they are right ahead of you!”
“The strange circle with the waving cloth? What’s that for?”
“I don’t know. I don’t want us to find out,” it’s your reply, to which Rubida adds:
“These are the wisest words you have spoken in a while, Candente.”
You hear no reply from Salicera.
“Oh. Sorry, Argia, I was nodding. I can do that, you look after Rubida.”
“Tell us if you feel a draft!” You shout in the darkness.
Another strange thing — your words carry no echo. They are just as dull as if you were speaking through fabric. And your steps make no noise on the floor. You can only hear your own breath, Rubida’s, the chafing of your clothing and the creaking of your armour.
This is not good enough.

[cont.]
>>
>>6040554

“I need something else,” you mutter, putting your sword inside your sheath and taking it off your side. You tap with the sword against the floor.
No sound, but you clearly feel the sword hitting the stone.
There. Something good at least.
Also, you don’t know if it’s because the shades have disappeared, or Rubida is finally trusting you, but the feeling of ice in our chest is slowly fading. Even your arms and legs feel more alive.
There is a world out of here.
A world you will come back to.
With Soralisa, and with the others. You will feel the wind and the sun again.
You will meet Master and he will be smiling.
You will win passage for your family.
“We should try to advance,” you whisper. “Salicera may be at the forefront but I don’t want to leave her completely on her own.”
Also you haven’t heard from her in a few moments.
Maybe more than a few moments. Even time is hard to understand right here.
What are you even hoping to find here? You found people so far, but they would no wake. The dais straight ahead… with what you saw, it’s really making you worry.
For the Seven Sisters always want to incarnate. All these people — all those organs, all that blood.
Lots of material to try and try again for a better chance.
“Very well,” Rubida finally agrees, carrying you away from such terrifying thoughts, and leans onto you just as you lean against the sword.
“Let’s hope we can walk without stumbling onto the dais,” you mutter.
Rubida does not answer, but you feel her grip on you arm tightening as you two start to wander about, trying to find the right path forward...

>Roll Bo3 - 1d100, DC 50, to see how you manage to orient yourselves in the darkness. If at all.

who knew my own spelunking experiences would one day help me write a qst update?
>>
Rolled 46 (1d100)

>>6040556
>Spelunking

Fuck that noise, bro. I have seen way too many videos and read too many stories of people getting trapped and shit. Also, fuck cave diving, you have to have a screw loose to do that.
>>
Rolled 12 (1d100)

>>6040556
spelunking the game ? anyway, time to wander
>>6040571
nuttyputty cave reminder
>>
>>6040571
>>6040603
aiii
>>
Rolled 95 (1d100)

>>6040556
nat 100 incoming
>>
>>6040705
close enough
>>
>>6040571

>denigrates cave exploring
>fails DC

You can't spell vengeance without Gea anon

jokes aside, I am aware of the risk, it was terrifying in a way, but also... cracking open a cold one at the bottom of the cave with the guys? Beer never tasted better.

And the dark that seems to seep right into your skull by how thick it is.

Plus, the stony concrections glistening like a star shower at the edge of the lamp--

I won't say I am going to go back anytime soon, but I am glad I did.

>>6040603

nuttyputty cave was madness

>>6040705

good roll anon. Writing in a little while!
>>
>>6040729
>You can't spell vengeance without Gea anon
what's gea ?
>>
>>6040736
the primordial earth mother goddess in Greek mythology, also knows as Gaia
>>
>>6040556

What did Rubida say?

The Night is all around us.

You two keep walking. By now, you are trying to listen more through your bodies than your ears. The satin darkness blocks all sight and every noise that does not come directly from you two.

"Salicera?" You whisper, trying out. It's frightening to push against the choking silence. You fear it might choke you back.

"She must be focusing. Do not bother her for now," suggests Rubida, and you agree. If only because it gives you two an excuse you both can hold on to. At least for the next few dozen breaths.

How much time has passed? You couldn't say. Rubida winces, gritting her teeth.

"How is your arm?" You ask. You have felt it twitch against your own.

"I'm fine. This place just makes me relieve certain memories," she replies in a demure groan.

"I'm sorry."

"You said that already."

"I will say it again." You pause for a few moments, tapping on the floor with your sword, like a blind beggar. You feel only air. With some luck and the support of Ansàrra, the dais might be laying somewhere far. "I met one of them, while I was training with Master."

"You met-- how are you still--" Rubida's voice cracks with shock.

"No, I meant one of the victims. Of course." You shake your head. "How could I be here if I met one of the Seven Sisters? Nay, it was a girl. A few years younger than us. Her heart had ruptured her ribcage and was laying on the grass, a few paces away."

"What... what did you do?"

"Master pierced the heart and we buried her with six steel hooks holding her still. I think the body is still there."

And just as you finish that phrase, meant to reassure Rubida a bit, to let her know you faced something akin to this as well and you survived--

The tip of your sword grazes against something soft and flowing.

Something like a thin silky veil.

[cont.]
>>
>>6040776
PANIC
>>
>>6040776

You stumble back immediately--

"Oh, oh no--"

Rubida's grip tightens so much it becomes painful, but you do not pry her off. You let her hold on to you. Your sword merely grazed the veil, it must be--

They are laying on their knees, in a circle, on the stone dais. Holding up their arms, grateful, blood spilling out of them. Their bones are translucent, their skin is alabaster save for one which is sheer black, inside their eyes shines the starry frenzy of the Epochalypse. In the middle she is frozen in the act of standing up, a gorgeous young woman, naked as the day she was born, and holding with her hands, grasping with her hands, presenting with her hands -- the empty space where her head was supposed to be.

-- nothing.

"It's nothing. It's gone. We can leave."

"My arm hurts," Rubida moans. For the first time since you have known her, her voice sounds pitiful. The same girl who has rebuked you time and time again is now holding onto you for dear life.

"We are almost there. We just need to walk around it."

It was to your right. You think.
You swing your sword, slowly, like a cane.

It cuts only through air.

"One more step. Just one more step." You take in a long breath and shout: "Salicera!"

No answer.

Starless Night, what an evil fortune.
You keep going. Step after step, knowing that if you were to touch the veil again.

"One more step," Rubida says. "One more step."

You two keep walking in the complete darkness. Every time you bend your knee it feels like you are pulling against tar. Or perhaps it's your muscles getting tired.
Your bones getting brittle.

The only thing you see in the darkness is the open, glassy eyes of that girl who enraptured her heart. Her weird expression, balanced between joy and loss.

Something touches you on your shoulder.

[cont.]
>>
>>6040791

"Haaa!" You immediately raise your weapon to intercept the assailant--

"It's me!" Comes Salicera's voice. "Here, I have found something."
"Sa-- Salicera." You are too happy to feel angry and you reach for her arm. Thank goodness you had the presence of mind of sheathing your sword, otherwise who knows what it might have happened.
"Salicera! Are you alright?" Rubida asks, reaching out as well.
"Yes, I'm fine. Mostly. It was a bit disheartening. I couldn't find anything, I could not even hear where you were anymore. But I have found... well, this."

She leads you forward. You all link hands as Salicera finally leads you to the wall on the other end of the entrance. You have never been so happy to touch stone before.

"Here. Feel it."

She takes both your hands and presses them against the stone.
There is no chance to get this wrong. You feel a draft. There is something behind this wall. Now you just have to understand how to widen this tiny opening.

>You put your sword in the entrance and try to see if you can cut through it. Maybe there's something like a chain on the other side, keeping it shut.

>You put your hands over the stone, taking your glove off and feeling it. Maybe this is part of a puzzle system and you can try and shift the stones around.

>You try to peek through the crack. It seems like there's a very faint light... and sound... coming from the other side.
>>
>>6040792
>You try to peek through the crack. It seems like there's a very faint light... and sound... coming from the other side.
>>
>>6040792
>You try to peek through the crack. It seems like there's a very faint light... and sound... coming from the other side.
is this Epochalypse a cool way of saying apocalypse in your quest or does it have a different meaning ?
>>
>>6040792
>You put your hands over the stone, taking your glove off and feeling it. Maybe this is part of a puzzle system and you can try and shift the stones around.

>>6040807
End of an era, I'd assume.
>>
>>6040807

>Epochalypse

It’s both a cool-sounding word I am far too proud of and the term used for the catastrophe and planet-scale destructions that followed the end of the Kiengir domination on your world. The rule of Ansàrra rose from the ashes of the old world. If you’d like to know more, there’s a linked lorepasta earlier in the thread.

>>6040794
>>6040807

2 to 1 for taking a peek. Writing.
>>
>>6040792

You slowly spread your fingers over the surface, but save for thin cracks between the stone, you feel no way of finding purchase. Perhaps this is more complicated than a simple pressure lock.

You close your left eye and peek through the opening - just a faint grey line amidst the darkness but you can make out something and suddenly you remember how it feels to — see — to perceive something beyond the darkness. There is world outside and there is a — you.

Panting softly, you keep looking. You can make out shapes and shifting colours moving back and forth. People, maybe? And the sound… you put your ear against the crack and you hear whispering chants, distorted by some kind of echo. The language sounds weird, the words popping and gnawing, twisted beyond recognition.

“Seeing anything?” Salicera taps on your shoulder.

“Yes. I think the cultists are behind this wall.” You pause, allowing Salicera to take her own look. You can still hear the gnawed words, faster now, rising to a feverish pitch. A cold grip in your stomach reminds you of how much time you wasted fighting the shades and stumbling in the dark. Whatever it is, you must put a stop to it now. “Now we just have to find a way to get through it.”

>You must find a way to get through the wall, or to open it. Discuss what to do. You have a set amount of replies to this reply in order to make suggestions (the roll at the start) before the ritual on the other side advances to the next stage.

>Keep in mind everything that went on in this room: the shades, the mirror, what happened when you interacted with the room.

>Keep in mind your equipment. What you have, what you can use. As a rule, remember that Salicera is wearing mostly clothes, you are clad in a brigandine, and Rubida is covered in a shiny cuirass she spent far too much time polishing.

>Discuss and find a way to get in, vote on a course of action.


we are on page 9, so rapidly approaching archival. Let’s see if you can solve this puzzle quick enough and end the thread on a banger. You have done great so far. Also, enjoy the Summer Solstice!
>>
Rolled 6 + 3 (1d6 + 3)

>>6041136

trying to see if it rolls properly now
>>
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>page 9
>rapidly

This thing has like at least a week in it if we don't get tranny/fetish spam. More likely 10ish days.

Please don't count this as a reply, since I talked about nothing quest related. Will reread the thread, see if I can come up with big brain shit, since I don't have any shifts or obligations this weekend. Also I plan better when drunk.
>>
>>6041184
get drunk and get your big brain hat on, anon!

also, yeah, it does not count as a reply. Only replies to >>6041136 count.


>one week

good to know. also, does the thread wrap up immediately upon reaching Page 10?
>>
>>6041187

It will stay on page 10 till it is the last thing bumped off by a new post being made. Even then it kinda stays for a tiny bit, staying on the legendary page 11 but is rapidly destroyed.

Do you know how to archive it to suptg? You might want to do so once it is on page 10, it will auto update to the archive till the thread dies, usually. Sometimes one or two posts at the very end will get cut off, but it is better than not getting archived at all.

And of course, encourage people to vote it up at suptg. Some archivefags/lurkers don't even check out quests if they don't have a decent number of positive votes. This quest deserves people to check it out.

https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/requestqstinterface.html

If you have issues, Quest General is useful, and the guy who runs suptg is pretty good about getting back to you if there are errors or someone archives your thing maliciously. We have had shit heels do that at times. Say it is X quest, put in tags, ect. But link to a random thread full of bullshit or what ever. They have an IRC, and he has a site related email.

I might suggest putting a link to the archive of prior threads if/when you make the next thread as part of the next opening post, along with any Pastebins. You can also make a burner twitter account to announce the next thread going up, if you care to, though that has become less popular these days. My first twitter was just QMs, so I could see when shit when up, but this was back in the /tg/ days. Now it is maybe better to drop the link to thread in the general or brave the blasted hellscape that is the discord.

If you archive, use your trip name as one of the tags so people can find the stuff you have written, if you want it to be found or intend to use the same trip for later stuff.
>>
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>>6041187
>>6041209
As a final aside, if you are not using it I would recommend downloading one of the GreaseMonkey style extensions suitable to your browser and 4chanX since that will let you see deleted posts and on occasion some asshole will roll, get a shit number, delete their post the second they can and reroll or try and hide their shame but 4chanX will let you see said deleted post while native 4chan will not, aside from that there was a post deleted assuming it was back linked by another person before it was nuked by the poster.

https://www.4chan-x.net/

https://addons.mozilla.org/en-US/firefox/addon/greasemonkey/
>>
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>>6041209
>>6041217

thank you so much anon! great info and suggestions all around, just what I needed

pic related is a little gift for your trouble
>>
>>6041217
hmm, didn't know abou that one
>>6041136
so in this room we had a ghost trap activated by light and statues behind a veil that mimic a ritual of sorts and there's blood coming from their arms. since we touched the wall before peaking, pressure puzzles are ruled out at least here and there's nothing supposedly holding the door that could be reached by sticking our sword in the hole. do we have a sanction that serves to reveal hidden info or something related ?
>>
>>6041297
>>6041297

a good idea, but not really appliable now. Such a Sanction might be useful, but it is something far beyond your abilities. Carnaval might surely get something like that granted, perhaps even Astoria.

You will have to solve this with your own tools.

But you have everything you need to open the door right at your disposal. Remember to also consider your companions, not just yourself.

This counts as the first reply. You have 8 left.
>>
>>6041303
>But you have everything you need to open the door right at your disposal. Remember to also consider your companions, not just yourself.
alright, seems like this will be harder than I expected for a first time QM and who isn't puzzle focused. I'll need to look back some doots or wait for an autistic anon to find the secret actions.
>>
>>6041356
like every puzzle, the solution is right before your eyes, though re-reading the words in the greentexts at the end of the narrative reply may help. There is another hint right that comes from the very place you are in, but to be fair it's a little hard.

The best thing you can do is try and think about your companions and what happened in this room. Perhaps a bit of speculation will help.

Do not give up anon, you may be closer than you think.
>>
>>6041370
>The best thing you can do is try and think about your companions and what happened in this room
what did they bring besides the weapons and the torches ? your odd remark to rubida's polished armor means we'll need to use it to reflect something but dunno what for now. speaking of the room, the only other detail there is is the endless ceiling(floor?) it has.
>>
>>6041386

your equipment is what was listed in the character info pastebin, except Argia has lost her backpack. Between Rubida and Salicera you certainly have enough to lit at least five more torches, so you can definitely make more light (if that was the implicit question).

The ceiling proceeds into the darkness, endless. You are just unable to see anything past your nose. There is the faintest amount of light coming through the cracks, but it's not enough to see anything on this side.
>>
>>6041136
The mirrors activated when exposed to light. Light can activate the cult's magical devices. Lighting a torch and using Rubida's armor to reflect it at a specific trigger could serve to open a door. Is there anything that looks like it could be such a trigger? A small mirror, maybe, or a hole in the wall into which we could direct a light?
>>
>>6041533
good thinking, anon
>>
>>6041533

The only feature or 'trigger' on the wall is the series of cracks and holes that you are looking through. They are very faint and quite close together. If you want to try and reflect them on Rubida's armour, you could do so easily, and the entire pattern would be completely contained on her shiny breastplate.

Unless you want to try and shine some light on the veil and the statues?

No one among you has a mirror but Rubida keeps her weapons clean, and Salicera's weapon may be used as well (if you want to reflect the light at something and then at Rubida's armour). Keep in mind though that if you were to maintain the light source for more than a few instants, you'd also probably need to keep that weapon (or piece of cuirass) in said position.

Four replies left. Very good effort so far. Can you reach a consensus on what to try?
>>
>>6041577
>The only feature or 'trigger' on the wall is the series of cracks and holes that you are looking through. They are very faint and quite close together. If you want to try and reflect them on Rubida's armour, you could do so easily, and the entire pattern would be completely contained on her shiny breastplate.
>Unless you want to try and shine some light on the veil and the statues?
illuminating the statues seems like an idea, since there's nothing on this wall to reflect the light to and it doesn't seem like it'd do much to reflect it upwards.

>Four replies left.
wouldn't it be 5 ?
>>
>>6041577
>>6041603
Maybe we can shine the light through where the one statue's missing head, is, reflect the light upon the breastplate, and thus pass some sort of magical 'scan' akin to a retinal or palm scan to gain entry?
>>
>>6041603
>>6041608

>shining a light through the statue's missing head and having it reflected upon Rubida's breastplate

sounds like this may be your plan. The patterns on the wall do remind you of some sort of lock, if you take them all together. And you remember Master's words about enrapturance and sacrifices.

Any more votes for this course of action?

Remember you have to find the statues once again, but you feel like Salicera found this spot on the wall close to the center, so the statues ought to be aligned to it. All in all, you should be able to put this plan into action before the next phase of the ritual begins, on the other side of the wall.

Remember that the light of Ansàrra, thus the one deriving from Sanctions, is divine, while torchlight it mundane.

[spoilers] overall you exceeded my expectations. [/spoilers]
>>
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>>6041618
I will support

>>6041608
>>6041603

For now. I unfortunately passed out kinda early last night and had shit going on this morning, so I haven't been able to reread shit and bring my demi-autism to bear.

>>6041249
Saved. I love chicks in armor.
>>
>>6041621
nooooh anon why do you bring such sorrow upon this earth?
>>
>>6041625
rlx, she gets back. don't you know basedbinkie's work ?
>>
>>6041618
That's what I'm leaning towards, yeah. Let's try it!
>>
>>6041652

I do but I enjoy being dramatic.

>>6041692
>>6041603
>>6041608

There seems to be complete consensus on this. The solution you found was quite ingenious. Maybe I will say a few words about it when we reach the thread’s end.

I will leave 6 more hours for suggestions/voting/questions, then it’s update time.
>>
>>6041953
>The solution you found was quite ingenious. Maybe I will say a few words about it when we reach the thread’s end.
you have my curiosity, again
>>
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>>6041953
Weaponized autism is a powerful thing indeed.
>>
>>6042057

It never ceases to amaze me.

As the door to the sightless night is about to open, I get ready for my update.
>>
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>>6041136

An idea strikes you like thunderbolt.
You wonder if this is a blessing from Ansàrra or the first hints at a gnawing madness, but it may just be your way out of here. You remember the figures coming out of the mirrors, the room which is completely empty, the well that was a tower that was a well… you have stepped into foreign territory and you have to make use of foreign thinking.
“Take your armour off,” you mutter turning towards where you hear Rubida’s breath.

Which stops as she hears you.
“W-What?”
“We need it. I think I know how to open this door.”
“This is not the first time you have made crazy requests,” Salicera muses with a chuckle. “But this one trumps them all. Why do you need her— ohhh…” She asks as she seems to connect the dots.
“The mirrors act as a gateway. We can’t use one of those because I am afraid the shadow things inside them would come out as well. We can’t use our swords because they are too thin!” You mutter, your words starting to pick up speed and confidence as you explain. “But you always keep your equipment so clean and polished, Rubida. We can use your armour!”
“I am not completely sure I like the way you are talking about my maintenance,” she huffs, the annoyance visible in her voice. You can almost see her turn her face away from you. “But I have no other ideas. Why are all your ideas so weird, Candente? I wonder where you get them… here, help me out of the laces and the pins, will you?”
You and Salicera follow the edge of Rubida’s metal plates, slowly freeing each of the hooks keeping it in place. It’s a slow and hard job in the utter darkness and often you just push or mistakenly rub against Salicera’s fingers, but bit by bit you manage to take it off.
“Here…” you crouch on the floor, positioning the armour so that it faces ninety degrees away from the wall. It’s the best you can do.

And now for the hard part.

“What’s next?” Rubida asks groaning as she creaks her back. You have a hint she’s hiding her right arm behind her back even in the utter blackness. “I feel naked without that thing.”
If things go like you suspect, Rubida will have no need for her armour anymore.
“We have to go back to the veil,” you mutter. “I will also need two of the plates from your arms.”
Rubida sighs, but reaches for them in a creaking of metal.
“At this point, you’d save time just complying,” Salicera chuckles.
“Thanks,” you say as Rubida puts them into your hand. By the feel, they are from her left arm. “Here is what I think we should do next—” you start, praying beyond all hope that your plan may work.

[cont.]
>>
>>6042153

# # # # # #

The tinkling of glass wings covers the shifting of grass beneath the whispering winds.
The Angel of Ansàrra walks towards the farmstead, her hand outstretched to gently knock on the door. From inside comes the muffled echo of female voices and chattering, then the noise of heavier steps approaching.

The door opens, revealing an older man clad in just a white bedsheet. He faintly smells like roses and violet, and sweat and—

Something muskier.

His grey eyes open in surprise when he sees her. He shifts the bedsheet to cover his lower body and crouches on one knee.

“Carnaval,” he says. “I did not expect you. I was not informed.”

“Fret not,” the Angel says, the corner of her full lips pulled in a smile. “I did not mean to intrude, I believed I would have found you asleep at this time of the night.”

“Perhaps in a few more hours yet,” he replies with a huff. From behind the edge of the door two freckled faces peek. The couple of girls look at the Angel, go white and immediately hide behind the wood, as if the door could protect them from her presence. “In retrospect, I could have waited until the morning. I merely wanted to inform you about your pupil.”

Ibardo Delebasse immediately raises his face to look at Carnaval.

“Is Argia alright?” Then he turns briefly, addressing the two girls who are still chattering and whispering. “Please go back you two. You can go on with each oher,” he says, to which a quick noise of eager feet follow, and then more whispering and chittering and then—

That’s when Carnaval decides to stop listening.

“Never better, I am told,” she resumes, her alabaster cheeks flushing a faint reddish tinge. “The Amaranthines have informed me she has been chosen for an important mission. I thought you would enjoy the good news.”

“A year of training in the outback is hardly an important mission,” Ibardo counters. There is a strange edge to his voice.

“Indeed. She has been put on a great challenge in fact. She and others are exploring a Temple that’s suspected to be involved in the affairs of the Seven Sisters.”

[cont.]
>>
>>6042245

Ibardo looks at the Angel with utter shock.

Then he stands and runs back in.

“My deepest apologies, o Crimson Wing,” the Angel hears him say behind his back. Some more noise follows and just a few minutes later Ibardo is back in full gear, his pristine tetraceramide brigandine and the blindglass relic safely strapped to his back.

“Why are you so agitated? Your disciple has good companions. There is even a Blessed Blind with them.”

Ibardo freezes on his way to the horse.

“A Blessed Blind you say. One Astoria di Ottava Ora, mayhap?”

Carnaval frowns, her golden eyes turning a little darker as she tries to make sense of Ibardo Delebasse’s sudden confusion.

“They overruled me,” he mutters shaking his head. “Oh, the Amaranthines are going to get one long scolding.” He leaves for his horse and climbs on it, still shaking his head. “Sun-Birther help them when I—”

“I believed you would enjoy such news,” Carnaval interrupts, dejected. Why is it that even after all this time she never seems to say the right thing? Sometimes it feels like a cold harsh wind catches her in its grip and she’s pirouetting into freefall—

Ibardo should have been glad his disciple had been granted such a honour. To fight for Ansàrra and face the Seven Sisters!

Should he not?

“She is no Knight yet,” he explains with a sigh. “She has yet to pass her Trial of Fire, o Carnaval. She has steel in her, but it’s untempered.”

Carnaval’s golden eyes go wide. Then she covers herself with her glass wings, crinkling and spreading crimson reflection all over the grass as the planetary ring’s light seeps through them.

“But sending an unproven Knight to such a mission goes against any protocol!” She protests. “Does it not?”

“Your wings carry you aloft, Carnaval,” Ibardo says, this time truly seeing her. As he approaches her on the horse, he sets one his wizened hands over her naked shoulder. She can’t stop herself from leaning into the touch, if but a little. “Above the mire of politics. Leave such dross to those of us who are mortal. I am grateful for your visit.”

“But—”

“It may prove more fruitful than you believe. Now, if I may be excused, I am in great need of haste.”

Carnaval blinks, still confused. She would prefer to hold him here and let him explain why he’s thanking her now.

[cont.]
>>
>>6042247

But she opens her lips and nods.

“You have leave to go.”

“My thanks! Bright deeds await, o Carnaval!” He turns and gallops away into the darkness, towards the edge of the Holy Land, at last as far as Carnaval can say.

She sighs and takes a few steps back and forth on the grass, trying to find comfort.

“Bright deeds…”

She always gets entangled in the web of the Children of Men. In this regard, she can never hope to compare to the Adversary. Looking at the light coming from the planetary ring, its silvery shade seems to mock her. The Stilladìa, for all her faults, was always just at ease with mundane matters.

Carnaval clenches her fists and takes creaking flight, in the opposite direction Ibardo took, towards the open Sea.

If she’s lucky, and she flies swift and true, she is bound to encounter one or two Frigèian vessels encroaching on the waters of the Holy Land.

She aches for a bout of righteous punishment to take her mind off her embarrassing conversation.

# # # # # #

You gather everything you need. The strip of cloth with the torch, the metal plaques, and your sword to help you walk through the dark.

“Like we decided,” you say out loud. Rubida and Salicera echo you. You touch the wall and then take a step forward.
“One.”
“One,” they echo.

Who knows how many steps until you touch the veil again?

But you need to do this. It’s your only way in… and out.

When you see him again, Master will be proud of you.

>Bo3, roll 1d100 to see how easily you can orient yourself. DC 40

Thanks everyone, I had a lot of fun with the last updates!
>>
Rolled 69 (1d100)

>>6042251
>>
>>6042257
>introduce a pair of farmgirls
>Ibardo tells them to go on with each other
>anon rolls a 69

pottery
>>
>>6042264
Kek. I believe the phrase is "nice".
>>
Rolled 19 (1d100)

>>6042153
Amogus window
>>6042245
Master really is a chad. Btw is fornication and polygamy ok in our religion ?
>>6042251
Relax Carnaval, you’ll have your time to shine
>>6042257
Kke
>>
>>6042281

>fornication and polygamy

polygamy is not, as society is based on the unity of the family. But the relationship with sex is more relaxed, and there is a certain amount of sexual mysteries (in the sense of rites and communions) that take place in the Temple of Flame.

I haven't shown it yet but both Rubida and Soralisa are there on a different 'track' which will then have them train as holy prostitutes for one year. This is seen as prestigious because both knightly training and sacred prostitution work to release your body and soul of spiritual dross, making sure you will be in demand for suitors.

In demand for - political - suitors, mind you. Rubida is after all, a noble. As you might have started to guess, political maneuvering cuts quite deep in the Holy Land and sometimes it cuts right through the thighs.

Everyone just wants a piece of Ansàrra, that's it.
>>
>>6042301
>polygamy is not, as society is based on the unity of the family. But the relationship with sex is more relaxed, and there is a certain amount of sexual mysteries (in the sense of rites and communions) that take place in the Temple of Flame.
I see
>I haven't shown it yet but both Rubida and Soralisa are there on a different 'track' which will then have them train as holy prostitutes for one year.
zam. I assume you'll bring more of the other religious influences to it in the next thread, since for now it's been mostly catholic-ish.
>>
>>6042333

checked

yes. The Catholic-influenced side of the Faith is the one that's easier to recognise and 'get into', so to say. But the idea of the inner spiritual war and the outer material war being interlinked is something that's shared by many a religion, even Sufism in Islam to make an example. Ansàrra's Cult of course has roots in our own world, but there may be more than one reason for this.

Overall you should see a lot of cool things in the next thread (provided you do survive), such as asking for Sanctions using Sacred Oils, a Temple of Flame, and perhaps some other stuff.

To be fair I am aching to have you meet Carnaval, but there's a specific narrative 'trigger' for that to happen. Oh, and for the Stilladìa to also come into play (but that most likely won't happen for a while I mean, unless you want to sell your soul?) )

always happy to discuss some lore/character stuff, anon
>>
>>6042333
Catholicism and Zoroastrianism are the main one's I've noticed.

>>6042338
I could see some Sufism as well, yeah.
>>
Rolled 90 (1d100)

>>6042153
>Why are all your ideas so weird, Candente? I wonder where you get them

They must never know Argia had a portal to a Mongolian basket weaving forum in her head. It is probably heretical and even if not they are going to just call her a shizo.

>>6042251
>>
>>6042338
>Overall you should see a lot of cool things in the next thread (provided you do survive)
>>6042338
are you threatening me ?

>To be fair I am aching to have you meet Carnaval, but there's a specific narrative 'trigger' for that to happen.
another puzzle, I see
>>6042350
>I could see some Sufism as well, yeah.
I'm not familiar with it, what were the influences related to it ?
>>
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>>6042390

>influences

mostly the idea that the outer war against the material enemy is tied to the inner war to achieve higher levels of spirituality, and one's level of spirituality echoes in the world.

Argia's inspiration came from a brief pamphlet written by an anonymous French monk, titled "The Assault on Heaven" (To Storm Heaven is another possible translation, if a tad waxing poetic) which posits how each weapon and piece of armour of the Knight works both on the spiritual and the material world (it's hardly the first or the only text posing this, but it's where the inspiration came from).

In this sense, the year of training Argia and the others are undertaking works as a way to clear themselves off the influence of the world and its trappings such as pride, envy and especially greed (greed is after all exemplified by the Stilladìa).

The same cultural roots have, through the chivalric tradition, inspired Bradiamante's character (another Knight who was name-dropped by the Stilladìa some time ago, and who Argia also look up to) -- to be more precise she's more of a reiteration than an inspiration. I hope I will be able to show Bradiamante at some point in the future.

>>6042377

>90 plus dubs

amazing work Anon.

It will take me a few hours to work on the reply because I'm about to go to bed and I am real tired. Thanks for playing everyone and get ready to shed some light on this--

>altar to a Mongolian basket weaving forum in her head

You may not know this yet, but (in a meta-gaming sense) the Stilladìa would kill to get a look inside Argia's mind. I mean, she kills already, but you know, she'd kill-erer or something
>>
>>6042390
>>6042430
Early Sufi poetry also incorporated a lot of quasi-erotic and romantic terminology ind describing the relationships between God and Man, and even relationships between teacher and student or cleric and congregation. Rumi is probably the most famous, though Hafiz is good, too, writing things like:

>It happens all the time in heaven,
>And some day
>It will begin to happen
>Again on earth --
>That men and women who are married,
>And men and men who are
>Lovers,
>And women and women
>Who give each other
>Light,
>Often will get down on their knees
>And while so tenderly
>Holding their lover's hand,
>With tears in their eyes,
>Will sincerely speak, saying,
>My dear,
>How can I be more loving to you;
>How can I be more kind?

That one came to mind reading this quest. Rabia Al Basri's 'Dream Fable', too, being about the inner light of young women who serve their god and faith.
>>
>>6042430
>The same cultural roots have, through the chivalric tradition, inspired Bradiamante's character (another Knight who was name-dropped by the Stilladìa some time ago, and who Argia also look up to)
so she isn't the same saint Bragia that Argia has a cameo of ?
>You may not know this yet, but (in a meta-gaming sense) the Stilladìa would kill to get a look inside Argia's mind.
hmm, I'm curious as to why
>>
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>>6042338
>I mean, unless you want to sell your soul?

I would let Stilladia suck my soul out in a hot second. Emphasis on the sucking part.

Also, for no reason what so every I may in the future need her height, weight,chest/waist/hip sizes and maybe a bit more description of her facial appearance.

>>6042430
>The Assault on Heaven

I tried googling it but didn't get anything that looked relevant. Do you happen to have a link to a scan of it or something. Original French is fine, I can still read it to a degree.
>>
>>6042556
I think we already know her height and her chest is probably an A considering her interaction with Carnavale and QM info
>>
>>6042587
I checked the pastebins and while we know Silly Stilly is "petite" no idea if that means like below 5 feet or what. And yeah, working from the idea she is only slightly above flat, AA or A. Also my head cannon gives her a nice butt and that will never change.
>>
>>6042661
here anon >>6042661
>The Stilladìa: 167 cm (5' 5'', 175 / 5' 7'' with horns (she can change her shape))
>>
>>6042661
meant to link this >>6031537
>>
>>6042457
This was an amazing read. I really need to stock up on Farsi poetry. I had a brush with Hafez a few years ago but that’s it.

>the inner light of young women who serve their god and faith

This is certainly part of the core inspiration for Argia as well, not to mention Bragia Lacresta’s character, who really brings this up to eleven. Bragia really was a bit of a shit fighter, but she was propped up by her friends and by her love for truth and trust.

It’s something that our current cultural climate has completely forgotten, and this may be one of the reasons why I find this concept so fascinating.

>>6042461

No, Bradiamante is a completely different character who lived and died about four centuries before your quest. She is also not a character who belongs to the Faith (she is linked to the Treviri Throne, the Borderlands and she partly caused, together with the Sutlladìa, the first Eldritch War/Asterite Uprising by liberalising trade of Dreaming Jewels) but her skills and life became legend and as such she’s respected and loved even in the Holy Land (Ansàrra may also appreciate her indirect role in causing a lot of Asterites to kill each other).

>curious as to why

Good. As for the reason, you may already have enough hints to guess.


>>6042587
>>6042661
>>6042668

The Stilladìa is probably something akin to a B cup to be fair. Not exactly flat but something she can clearly get a bit unhappy about, especially considered certain uhm, blessed servants of Ansàrra. On the other end, yeah, Helias is an ass man and there’s plenty and to spare in that regard.

>may need her measurements and whatnot

Gladly, anon. I may put them in a pastebin in the future or maybe write a short piece about her with more descriptive info. Hope this helps you in your mysterious goal.

>Silly Stilly

Fucking keked
>>
>>6042864
>Ansàrra may also appreciate her indirect role in causing a lot of Asterites to kill each other
asterites are how the stilladìa followers are called or they're another enemy group ?
>>
>>6042894

Asterites are one of the two main groups of 'magic users' in the setting. They channel the magic of the Sphere of Affixed Stars, which run through their bodies. You can think of them like walking living nuclear reactors, as the magic causes their bodies and mind to break down and eventually the lingering traces inside their bodies to burst into an explosion of cancer-like magic that twists and taints reality around them.

They are mostly native to the lands of the Treviri Throne; Asterites are strictly controlled and are all followed at each time by one or more Crows, an order of trained assassins whose goal is to kill the Asterite who starts looking a bit funny or hints towards having a gamer moment. Luckily Asterites are quite rare.

In order to keep their bodies from breaking down, Asterites need 'Silt' a crystalline powder that comes from the Borderlands, or even better a Dreaming Jewel.

They are not 'followers' of the Stilladìa (she is not the one giving them powers though she can certainly augment them) as she rather prefers having deals with the single person, but their fortunes have been influenced by her, and as such Asterites are not considered friends to the Holy Land. The Treviri Throne itself is doing its own thing (one of the Powers of the world with Madua, Frigèia and the Mar da Candèa).

Hope this clarifies things a little bit; I have a couple storylines with Asterites but it's unlikely you will find one of them on Argia's path. thanks for asking!
>>
>>6042908
np, op
>>
>>6042670
How the fuck did I miss that?

Well the bottle and half of wine would probably explain it.

>>6042864
>I may put them in a pastebin in the future

Nifty.
>>
>>6042257
>>6042281
>>6042377

“Two,” Salicera says.
“Two,” Rubida echoes.
You nod. Second step was not easier than the first. Walking through the endless dark still feels like waddling your arms into a pool of ink, without any way to properly say which way is south, which way north… maybe not even up and down. Only Rubida’s and Salicera’s linked arms, your boots and the hardness you tap at with your sword tell you that you are maybe, proceeding into the right direction.

The Night has swallowed you.

But the Cameo on your chest still burns hot. Dawn will come again, just like Saint Bragia said.

“Four.”

Were you at four already? Just like before with the Malostromo, space seems to wrap around you, distances twisting, turning into a jumbled mess. You—

“Five.”
“Five,” you reply. You have to keep focused.

Each step feels like stumbling, but the presence of the other two gives you strength.

Is this what it means to be able to count on someone else? There used to be a time when you were just like anyone else, when you lived on the shores of the Mar da Candéa. Back there, nobody minded your silver hair.

You had your family, of course, and you met with the other girls in your town to gossip and watch adults walk around and comment on the boys fighting and playing with each other in the fields. Those girls were not really your friends — they did not miss you when you lost your family’s vineyard, they did not even try to console you, and they were now huddled together and speaking about your situation without a modicum of care — so up until this moment…

Could you call Master a friend? Perhaps, but he still commandeered a kind of deference that would always make you feel at a distance. He had always been affectionate and supportive, but he was the Head of his Order, and you would never be anything else but a Knight.

If you even reached that poin—

“Seven.” The tip of your sword touches something light and shifty.

Your hands grow sweaty once again as you find the veil once again.

[cont.]
>>
>>6043206

And this time, it’s just a veil.

No image bursts into your mind.

Maybe before was a warning. A little tease.

You are a bit worried this is going to be an invitation.

Or perhaps… you have just been a little bit lucky. Perhaps. You can afford yourself to think you have done well.

“Alright,” you sigh. “It’s here.”
“I should go—” Salicera says, but you shake your head and pull the veil up, stepping in.
“This was my pla— oh.” You gasp the moment your boot touches the dais. The six figures in a circle and the central one, it’s exactly like you saw it before, but there is something else.

You can see inside here.

It’s some kind of white, stiff light that turns everything into shades of white and grey and black. It makes your eyes sting. But you can see, even if there are no colours. Past the shifting veil everything is absolute black, like the waves on an ocean of molten jet.

“Come on in.”

The other two follow you, Salicera wrapping her arm protectively around Rubida.

“We have to reach that point. Rubida, light one of the torches, please.”

The black-haired girl complies, even if she’s shaking like a leaf. Half her face is gripped by a grimace of anguish. Her right arm moves all jittery and skittish.

“You can do this, Rubida. We are all supposed to get past this training, remember?” You say, trying to comfort her.

She looks at you as she fumbles through her backpack, but at last she nods and takes out a strip of oiled cloth. She lights it up and the small flame burns with a grey light that does not seem to brighten anything. It’s as if you can see through the veil of night, like a wolf, but no true light is peeking through.

Salicera in the meantime looks at the statues, She looks slightly disturbed, if you have learned enough about her to read her face. Peeking at the one in the middle, the one without her head.

“You have seen this before, haven’t you?”

[cont.]
>>
>>6043208

“Something akin to this. It was the heart, and not the… not the head. I wonder what would make someone do anything like that,” you wonder as you advance towards the main statue and something else strikes you. The statue in the middle — its surface — it’s a bit too clammy, a bit too dull to be polished marble. It’s almost as if— no. You don’t want to think about it.

“Rubida, please bring me the torch,” you say, finally tying your scabbard back to your waist. You won’t use it as a walking stick anymore. She complies, trying to give the statues a wide berth, while Salicera is still looking at them.

“This is madness,” she comments. “What a waste.”


Rubida reaches you. She is trying to put on a brave face but it’s clear she’s extremely bothered. You raise her vambraces and use them to form a rudimentary cone.


“It’s almost over. Put the torch between them, please. Rubida— you can do it. Please.”


It’s easy to spew such platitudes. But you put your hands right before where the head of the statue would be, right at the centre.


Rubida gulps, closes her eyes and raises the torch.


The colourless light eats through the grey reflections of the metal, painting it a shiny white — the ray of light projects through the spot where the head would be, through the veil and through the empty air towards —

It hits something. From the blackness Rubida’s breastplate appears, and the reflection—
>>
>>6043209
“Yes,” you gasp. It’s faint but
you can see it, the reflection is changing, it does not show the wall anymore, but what’s behind it: you see more people, dressed in long dark robes, rows of them holding their arms up as something floats in the middle, something round and clammy…

You are going to be sick.


“It’s working,” Salicera says with a big smile. “You two did it! Good job, Rubida!”


“I just want this to end,” she replies, clenching her teeth. “Candente, you have the worst ideas. Even if they keep working.”


“Just a little more time,” you say, trying to reassure her. “It’s working, but we will have to keep this up. Which means… one of us will have to stay here and keep the ray of torchlight focused on the breastplate.


>Rubida stays.

>Salicera stays.

# # # # # #

Thanks for playing. Let's see who follows you into through the wall? I wonder who you will pick and why.
>>
>>6043210
>Rubida stays.
She's not as good a fighter as Salicera, doesn't trust us as much, and her trauma-arm's acting up.
>>
>>6043210
>Rubida stays.
the other anon has a good point, skill (issue) aside Salicera is getting ptsd from this place and it'll probably get bigger when we confront the cultists, specially going by wtf we saw floating there.
inb4 something is gonna happen to whoever stays behind
>>
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>>6043210
>Salicera stays.

I have a hunch or feeling... so yeah. Do not take the person you should by all measures bring.

>>6042864
>Hope this helps you in your mysterious goal.

If this thing lasts at least 3 threads and stays good, I was thinking of commissioning some simple art, a picture or two, and Stilly is hot.
>>
>>6043268

>PTSD

You mean Rubida? She certainly looks mighty uncomfortable

>>6043276

>some simple art

anon if you actually do this I am going to find you and fucking kiss you (on the cheek)
>>
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>>6043248
>>6043268
>>6043276

also, already a majority, but this is an important vote so I'm leaving the window open for 9 more hours.

After this I think I will write the last update and then leave room for some Q&A and feedback, as we are approaching the bump limit.
>>
>>6043210
>Rubida stays.
>>
>>6043848

final tally is 3 to 1 for Rubida to stay and Salicera to follow you. Interesting decision, anon.

Writing... for the last time.
>>
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>>6043650
> I am going to find you and fucking kiss you

HeadQm said the same damn thing, and I have yet to have a dude roll up on my porch and give me a smooch.

Pic unrelated, this is the guy I was thinking of using, since he is like always open and QM'd one of the most popular quests back on /tg/
>>
>>6044018

>implying is going to happen when you are awake
>>
>>6044000
>Writing... for the last time.
Of this thread... R-right?
>>
>>6043210

Rubida hesitates. She frowns, her closed eyes shifting left and right beneath her eyelids. She opens her mouth—


“I am going,” Salicera interjects, stepping forward to set her hand on her shoulders. “You just focus on keeping the ray of light straight. I’d suggest you keep your eyes open, though. It’s just a bunch of old statues. Nothing to be worried about.”


Rubida winces and you wonder how much about her Salicera truly knows. Or whether she noticed how much the headless statue’s surface looks like actual skin.


“Are you sure?” You lean forward, whispering against Salicera’s ears. “The ray of light is focused on her breastplate, but what if it’s enough to wake more doubles from the mirrors?”


“We can’t see them through the veil,” she replies with a shrug. “Besides, if she has to interrupt the ray for a while I doubt it’s going to be that much of a problem. She is still a Knight in training. And she did save your ass before, didn’t she?”


“Save my ass?” You frown. You don’t even own a donkey. Not even when you still had your old vineyard… more Salicera weirdness.


“Ah,” she says, realising what she just said. “I am sorry if that sounded unusual.”

“Nevermind. I think I am going to agree.” You turn your face towards Rubida. You repeat yourself that this is not the last time you are going to see her. “Thank you.”


“I told you I want you to thank me when all this is over!” She bites back, but she does open one blue eye, trying to keep the torch and the vambraces aimed at the right spot.


“In a short while, then,” Salicera chuckles. “I am curious to see what that sword of yours can do on a bunch of cultist’s necks.”


“I suppose we are going to find out…” you reply, holding onto your Cameo for one last time. “I will see you soon.” You step out of the dais and through the veil, Salicera right behind you.

You unsheathe your sword, a few sparkles going off in the dark as the tetracerarmide shears against the metal. Salicera never put her weapon away, you notice.

You two follow your steps back towards Rubida’s breastplate.

“Five… six… seven. It was just seven steps away,” Salicera points out.

“Appropriate.”

Seven steps for Seven Sisters.

[cont.]
>>
>>6044110

As you reach the breastplate you can see the scene reflected on the polished metal. A series of figures, standing tall, surrounding that thing that floats and which, at this point is clearly is—

“Did they take her head?” Salicera winces.

“She offered it of her own accord,” you point out. “Master told be a bit about it.”

“Is this an incarnation? A demon reborn, made of flesh and bones?” Salicera grins as her grip on her sword tightens. “And we are here to slice it and send it back to Hell! We are not even Knights proper! Imagine the tales they will tell about us.”

“We will have to be there to relay those,” you reply, your fingers clammy. You are not being a coward. You are not a coward. Master wouldn’t have chosen you otherwise. But the destiny of your family rests upon your shoulders.

“I know why I am doing this,” you state, turning away from the scene to look at Salicera. “I see my reasons every time I close my eyes. You know, given what you asked me before we entered here.”

“I know you do,” Salicera grins at you. She sets her hand against your forearm. “I wanted to—” but then she hesitates, once again. “I am going to tell you a little something. After all this. I think… I think you earned it.”

What might she hinting at? She flushes, shuffling her boots on the smooth stone. Must be some personal detail. To think you can worry about that obscure social dance you keep failing in such a conundrum.

But it’s something you should worry about at another time.

“I will gladly listen.” One final pause. You turn behind to glance at the veil, but you can’t see Rubida, only the ray of light peeking through. And there is not a speck of brightness glinting against the mirrored surfaces. Perhaps you can hope she will be safe. “Let’s go.”

Swords cut shallower than words, Master used to say, but oft speak louder.

You reach for the breastplate’s metal.

[cont.]
>>
>>6044112

Your fingers touch the steel, but instead of finding resistance they pass through it like water. The same pulling sensation you felt when you touched the staircase draws you into and you step forward, on your feet, inside the nethermost hall.

Beneath seven motes of white light — white? You expected it to be grey — the rows of figures turn towards you. Salicera is right behind, and you can feel the energy coming off her body. She’s restless and aching for a fight. If only you could feel the same.

Now that you can see them up close, the figures in the hall reveal what it has been done to them. Or perhaps what they have given up. Clad in their robes, which only cover up to their shoulders, they slowly turn towards you, one by one, like curious sunflowers caught unaware by the dawn.

Their heads are reduced to a hollow stump. For some, fragments of teeth and one eye hanging on a thread of flesh are still lingering on skin-coloured strings. Others still have parts of their jaws and orbits, looking like flowers bloomed to soon under some foreign and cruel sunlight.

They all bear white glowing stems of light peeking out of their stumps, throbbing faintly at the rhythm of some hidden heart. You are reminded of tales from old mariners and fishermen, of the beasts that live in the abyss beneath the slumbering skin of the Sea, so deep that they have to cast their own light upon each other.

The closest figures to you look human enough, save for the stump where their head was supposed to be, but those closest to the head are hulking forms, clad in plaques of what look like ceramic affixed to metal pulleys, hooks and needles, tightening their bulging sinews and stringy muscles like a horse foaming against its reins. What remains of the features from their faces skitter all over their bodies, ill-shaped spiders on thin legs of bones.

The head, floating in the air like a jellyfish, surrounded by the seven motes of light which are circling it, slowly turns towards you, showing its other half. The clammy, pale skin has started to give way to overgrowth of sable tones, as smooth as peach. The hair shifting from a bright blonde to the blackest of blacks. Its dull and dead brown eye exchanged for a lively one, a clean and beautiful blue.

The head of a Kiengir woman.

And the half grin, self-assured with the wisdom of ages.

Ah, yes. It says with a clear female voice in which you hear echoes of the same grinding language the mask spoke you with, its one eye shifting between you and Salicera. The interlopers. I suppose I ought to bid thee welcome.

You slowly raise your sword until it’s level with your eyes.

[cont.]
>>
>>6044115

Astoria paces back and forth in front of the carriage. From time to time she turns her head towards the floating tower. A old habit she has yet to shed even after all these years.

“Are they going to make it?” The martial chaplain asks as he finishes petting the horses, who are still visibly nervous, standing so close to the corpse of the burned Malostromo.

“Who knows? I have hopes. If they fail, I have bets.”

The chaplain chuckles. He decides to sit on a log next to the Blessed Blind, who stops and sits next to him, taking his hand in hers with soft care.

“You are tired, Felice. You ought to get some sleep. Do you still you are in your thirties yet?”
He chuckles. It’s a dry and dusty sound.

“I hear you say the same things since I was five. I will be fine. I am just a bit tired. I have just never truly taken to the blessings of Ansàrra, that’s all.”

Astoria’s jaw sets.

“I sometimes wonder if this is my fault,” she groans, her bandaged hand reaching towards the spot on her forehead where her marks tally up to eight, and not one step forward. “I should have done all I could have to—”

“Mother, please,” Felice sighs. It feels like they had this conversation an untold number of times. “You did all you could. You will raise to see the Sun. All our efforts will not go to waste.”

“Carnaval cannot hold me back for ever,” she replies, biting onto her thumb. “Those three, nay, those two girls will prove to that stubborn angel my judgment, my suspicions — ought to be trusted. Dotard of an upstart. She thinks that because she can step into the Sun-Birther’s chambers she can suddenly pull all the strings. Ah, but the Amaranthines have grown tired of it. We have all grown very much tired of it. I will have my Ninth, son. I will have it and I will hold Her hand and I will change Her bandages and touch Ansàrra’s fresh ichor with my own hands and be graced by Her presence ere I die, I—”

The carriage’s door grinds open. From inside inches forward a tired, frail girl, her brown hair frizzy and dirty, her hands covered in glistening bandages, her eyes deep-set into her sockets, yet burning feverishly.

“I-I need to go. They need my help,” croaks Soralisa.

[cont.]
>>
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>>6044117

# # # # # #


The Stilladìa takes the silver sphere out of her mouth. She holds it in her fingers as she peers into its depths. Then a soft arm made out of sheer darkness, with golden motes of light swimming through and around it, wraps around her neck, pulling her against a tall and warm body.

“You are still up,” Helias says, his deep voice reverberating through her chest in a way that always makes her smile.

“I was thinking,” she replies, turning her face to put a kiss on his lips. They share in the kiss for a few more moments, and then the Stilladìa withdraws with a satisfied sigh. With her free hand she cups her lover’s cheek, her alabaster fingers onyx nails a stark contrast to Helias’ smooth, liquid body. “How is progress on the Etemenanki?”

“I wanted to think about it,” he answers with a chuckle, leaning into her touch and closing his glowing eyes. “But the work proceeds. I also wanted to see you. What are you thinking about?”

“No surprises here,” she shows him the silver sphere and he nods, recognising it. “Old mistakes.”

“I see. Want to think about old mistakes together?”

The Stilladìa smiles, quickly peeks his cheeks and put the sphere between their lips.


# # # # # #


Thank you for playing! The narrative of Silver Knight Quest’s first thread wraps up with this update, but we have a bit of space yet before the bump limit pushes us into retirement zone. I wanted to use this space to thank you all for playing, reading, providing insight, solving puzzles and rolling. Yes, even those natural 1s.

I hope I can grow better as a QM and as a writer for the next thread. I have a couple ideas on how to do so.

It has been an incredible journey for me but I will save the truly sappy stuff for the very few last messages. Also, before I start to get the archive ready (remember to vote when the link is up, please!) I have a few questions:


>Is there a part of the Quest you really enjoyed? Which one?

>Which parts of the Quest could use improvement?

>What made you ‘click’ with Argia?

>Other than our beloved silver-haired dunce, is there another character (or characters) that stood out to you? Why?

>free space! ask anything about lore, characters, mechanics, ideas, inspirations, or provide suggestions


And once more, thank you so much for playing.

Gi-sag!
>>
>>6044134
>Is there a part of the Quest you really enjoyed? Which one?
Saving Soralisa was a big one.

>Which parts of the Quest could use improvement?
I'm still a bit lost wen we change perspectives and get big lore-dumps full of setting-specific jargon, and I'm not yet sure if that confusion is intentional.

>What made you ‘click’ with Argia?
I think her awkwardness with people and social cues is really endearing.

>Other than our beloved silver-haired dunce, is there another character (or characters) that stood out to you? Why?
Rubida and Salicera are both great n their own way, but I'm especially curious to learn more about the latter, for obvious reasons.

>free space! ask anything about lore, characters, mechanics, ideas, inspirations, or provide suggestions
Keep on keeping on. You're doing great work!
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>>6044117
>“Mother, please,” Felice sighs.
Astoria is a lolibaba confirmed
>>6044119
I liked the pic from this first doot, so I'm reposting it for the other anons who missed it
>>6044134
>Is there a part of the Quest you really enjoyed? Which one?
Saving soralisa from her sanction is up there, with the conversation between ibtc ladìa and mogglerval being a honorable mention even if it's just lore dump/extra

>Which parts of the Quest could use improvement?
specific lore stuff which we still weren't told about that comes a lot of times

>What made you ‘click’ with Argia?
being a striver despite her mid skills and her being someone who wants to help her family

>Other than our beloved silver-haired dunce, is there another character (or characters) that stood out to you? Why?
Salicera is very interesting with her characterization; Astoria, Stilladìa and Carnaval because of their design descriptions and their mysterious aura and Helias because I like slimes and related stuff.

>free space! ask anything about lore, characters, mechanics, ideas, inspirations, or provide suggestions
the relations of the other kingdoms/realms with the holy land would be nice to know
>>
>>6044151

>Saving Soralisa

for me as well. to think it literally came out of nowhere.

>still a bit lost

I know I ask much of my players in that regard. I hope I can make these lore moments more streamlined through the narration. There is of course a desire to show the extent of the world 'out there' and making you feel a little out of your depth is part of the intention, of course.

>awkwardness

she's a lot of fun to write in that regard. I may or may not draw inspiration from my own past/present. Argia is quite dear to me for this reason as well.

>curious to know more about Salicera

I'd get excited about next thread then anon

>doing great work

from the depths of my heart, anon: thank you. You have no idea how much that means to me.

>>6044157

>Astoria

let's be fair: did you expect anything like that when I hinted at her age being undefined?

>original pic

thank you for saving it. I liked it as well! But there was a mistake with the greentext format and I decided to delete and rewrite, using another pic to point out the corrected version was up

>Saving Soralisa, conversation between Stilladìa and Carnaval

I was in a very particular headspace when I wrote that piece. It's more thanks to the Muse than me if it came out memorable, but I'm glad you liked it. Also, the Stilladìa might have a larger part to play in the future. Also fucking keked at those nicknames

>specific lore stuff we weren't told about

can you specify which lore points exactly? It would help me for the next thread

>striver, helping her family

those are such important parts of her character, glad they came out so clearly!

>Salicera
much about her is still a secret but I just ache to show a little more about her through the next thread
>Astoria, Stilladìa, Carnaval
glad they stood out. I am especially fond of their design and how it plays with their characters (I had a long conversation with a friend who is a comic book artist and she really made me think about trying to make recognisable, striking characters)
>Helias
slime boi best boi
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>>6044180
>>6044157

>relations of the other kingdoms

I will probably expand this through lorepasta, but to make a very long story very short:
>Frigéia: maritime trading empire in full bloom and expansion, going through a fledging industrial revolution thanks to abyssal octopi oil used as fuel. Think a mixture of Venetian Republic in looks, government and style, and 18th Century England/Netherland for the cutthroat trading expansion. They are considered the greatest threat to Madua (trading ships encroaching uninvited into their waters are destroyed on sight), have a rivalry relationship to the Treviri Throne, and a normalised/expansionistic one with the Mar da Candéa, which needs their supplies. This is the Power which more or less received the most influence from the Stilladìa. Carnaval is originary from here.

>Treviri Throne: the largest and most-populated land-based empire, divided by a range of mountains. To the north lies the lands of the Emperor and to the south the Twelve Cities who are formally part of the Throne, but have tried to rebel and self-govern. These lands are (in)famous for the Asterites, one of the two kinds of magic users of the setting. Somewhat peaceful relations with Madua as long as Asterites are kept under lid, rivalry with Frigéia, neutral/collaborative with the Mar da Candéa.

>Mar da Candéa: smallest and probably weakest of the Big Four, confederation of feudal kingdoms and aristocratic families/bloodlines huddled around the vast Sea of Candéa. At the centre of the Sea lies the Isle of the Echorian, where the Echorists (the other kind of mages in the setting other than the Asterites) receive their education. The noble families of the Mar da Candéa are locked in a perpetual struggle for power and supremacy through the Echorian which on the one hand causes factions-infighting and splintering, on the other hand pushes for excellency in every field. They tend to have a somewhat neutral relationship with all the other main Powers (think of where all the peace conferences are set), if nothing because they are needed as a linchpin/counterbalance to the influence of the others. This is Argia's homeland.

Overall, the relationship between all the Big Four is on shaky ground, with Madua mostly isolationist, Frigéia trying to expand their trading reach and developing, the Treviri Throne being a powder keg of cancerous magical living nuclear warheads (which have gone off at least once) and the Echorian being caught in the middle between these giants.

Of course, the relationships between these Powers are as much influenced by the specific wills and goals of the main players behind the scenes (Ansàrra, the Stilladìa and Helias, the Seven Sisters) as by their populations and rulers. Everyone is just trying to get the largest slice of the pie.
>>
>>6044180
>glad they stood out. I am especially fond of their design and how it plays with their characters (I had a long conversation with a friend who is a comic book artist and she really made me think about trying to make recognisable, striking characters)
I gotta be honest and add that me liking voluptuous women and lolis also helped into liking them, kek.
>>6044184
I see. thanks for the answer.
>>6044110
gotta say that the girl from that pic being in blue/white like the virgin Mary also added to the unsettling aspect of it. the artist seems to draw a lot of those horror related stuff and sadly some pay gorn as well
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>>6041962
I forgot to reply to this. My initial idea was you'd guess Rubida must hold a light against her breastplate, facing the wall, so to reflect the cracks and fissures onto it and opening the passage. In this case, you would have to bloodlet to get through, operating a sacrifice. It would have resulted into a minor penalty to checks, something like a -1d6.

The idea of casting a ray of light through the missing head surprised me -- not just because it was mechanically fitting and clever, but because it was also lore-abiding!

So I decided to eschew any penalty whatsoever. During the next thread(s?) I may do similar things for creative and inspired write-ins... so get that nogging goin, anon.
>>
>>6044591
>The idea of casting a ray of light through the missing head surprised me -- not just because it was mechanically fitting and clever, but because it was also lore-abiding!
gotta give it to the anon who thought about that. I'd just go with the reflect onto the wall thing just because I didn't see anything else that'd fit.
>So I decided to eschew any penalty whatsoever. During the next thread(s?) I may do similar things for creative and inspired write-ins... so get that nogging goin, anon.
will try my best to exercise my 130 iq (according to totally legit web tests) and give something unique
>>
>>6044618

>130 IQ

wait how did you score higher than the cap? I am suddenly very worried about how proud I always was about my 83
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>>6044645
>>
>>6044692
My lawyer has forbidden me to reply to this post, so have the alternate art I planned to use for the OP post
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>>6044707
>lawyer

Is it just a homeless dude you found beside a 7-11? Be truthful, we have all been there at one point.

Nice art, I am very fond of silver haired girls. Part of why I started following this quest, if I am being truthful.

Actually dyed my hair metallic gray/silver at one point. Then I was told "gray is the new gay" and dyed it back to my natural color.
>>
>>6044893
>Then I was told "gray is the new gay" and dyed it back to my natural color.
kek, is that a thing now ?
>>
>>6044898
Silver hair looks cool, and gays also likenlooking cool, I guess.
>>
>>6044893
>konataposting

I feel blessed. as for the identity of my lawyer, I cannot say anything, just that he's been great at his job so far. it's just that blood can get so damn expensive sometimes.

>silver hair

real cool! if you enjoyed it, keep them! now I am curious about how you took the 'just dye them, duh' comment from Rubida (which was originally Salicera's line desu)

Pic related was another attempt at a cool OP pic. I decided against it because it was a bit too Nier-esque.

also, I will be archiving this tomorrow, so I can start begging people to vote on my Korean paper weighting forum fanfic. if luck serves I may be adding a short vignette maybe (a big maybe)
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>>6044913
>now I am curious about how you took the 'just dye them, duh' comment from Rubida (which was originally Salicera's line desu)
it really fits rubida better
>>6044913
>if luck serves I may be adding a short vignette maybe (a big maybe)
vignette you say ?
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>>6044913
Caught up. ETA on next thread?
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>>6045455
cute! I think I'll start next thread on 1st of July.

>>6044918

I say.

>>6044134

# # # # # #

“Master?” You had pleaded, gathering all of your courage. You had looked at him from the wooden seat outside the Temple of Flame. He held his eyes closed and his breath was regular, but you knew he was still awake.

“Argia.” He had replied, without opening one of his grey eyes. In the soft warm darkness of the outer shell you could make out his outline, the same comforting presence that had led you for the past three years. To think he’d be leaving you for the next twelve months was—

“I don’t want to go,” you whispered, feeling the bile of shame rising to clog at your throat and burn through your stomach. You clasped your hands against the seat’s edge, trying to hold onto something. “I don’t want to leave.”

“It is necessary. All Knights are supposed to wander and leave their home. They cannot access the Trial of Fire if they have not passed through this.” His voice lowered. “I am sure you will make friends, Argia. And you may even look back towards this year fondly.”

“I— I can’t see that happening, Master.” You muttered. Something attracted your attention and you jittered on the seat as one of the Flame-Priests opened the door and came into the room, bowing to Master as he approached, standing in the middle of a blade of summer sunlight. He wore the usual white robes of a priest, but the fabric that completely covered his face had none of the punctured decorations used to allow them to more easily see and breathe. By that and the gilded lining of his sleeves, you understood he must be of higher rank.

“The inner room has warmed up.”

You had then reached for something to cover your hair, but you were in a Temple of Flame, and you had to leave your cloak outside, so your silvery hair were clearly visible in the newfound brightness.

“Master Delebasse—” he promptly asked in a low voice, almost a whisper, though it was just for show, because you could perfectly hear. “Are you sure you want to attend together with—”

“Thank you. That will be all,” he replied, standing up. “Come, Argia.” He walked ahead, and though you followed him and did not even turn to look, you felt the Priest’s gaze bore holes through your chest and linger onto your hair.

Master tapped against the black marbles doors giving towards the inner temple. In opposition to the secluded waiting room and its darkness, the inner hall was hexagonal, marble walls and floor leading to a huge metal sphere lying in the middle, surrounded by a deep pool of hot water and another marble lip. Blades of light danced and refracted on the surface of the sphere, which was not smooth but made of the same honeycomb patterns as the room itself.

[cont.]
>>
>>6045543

Master turned towards the wooden wardrobe, little more than a wooden shelf actually, and he began to disrobe, taking off his shoes first. You followed in tow, and the heat rushing to your cheeks was not just due to your shameful desire not to leave for training, or the warmth refracted from the sphere. At last, with a sigh, you put your shoes on the shelf and started to unbutton your shirt, stripping down to your underwear and then taking those off as well, putting it on the shelf.

“It is good custom,” Master reminded you from behind, “to fold each piece separately. They will wash them for us.”

“Oh. At once.” You complied and took a bit of time and care to fold each piece of clothing, putting them all besides each other. Already the heat was starting to make you sweat, small droplets running down your back. “I am finished.”

Master nodded. He had taken off everything, and your blush increased as you followed him to the pool, descending the marble staircase leading to the water. Ibardo was already an old man even by Maduan standards, but his life as a Knight had kept him in shape. What would happen to you if you ever reached his age? Master had always been secretive about his personal life. Something about him hinted at a family, but you never really attempted to ask.

You had a family right now, though. And they were out there, waiting in the Landing Strip, for you to get over your troubles and deliver them passage into the Holy Land.

There was no time for whining. You closed your eyes and let your mind try and wander towards Ansàrra as you stepped into the water, which kissed your calves, then your thighs, and then your chest as it rose to cover your head. You took six steps underwater and then began to raise out once again, water coating you, sliding in a pitter-patter shower down the marble stairs. After a few moments a soft veil of steam began to leave your skin in the heated air, which made you feel… strangely refreshed.

Master stopped a few paces ahead, close enough he could have touched the shifting metal sphere, but he did not enter the Temple’s core.

Instead, he sat by the marble lip’s edge, looking up at the sphere with a strange expression on his face.

“Sit with me, would you?”

[cont.]
>>
>>6045545

You obeyed, a bit confused, soft water droplets still running down your back and your midriff.

“I thought you would enter the core.” The third layer was forbidden to you yet. Only after the Trial of Flame you would be able to withstand the concentrated sunlight inside the sphere, and experience a pale reflection of what it might be standing in the presence of Ansàrra. Your mind wandered briefly towards the Sunseekers, who so eagerly took that light in. A path so far beyond your own.

“There is better company on this side,” he replied, a thin amused smile appearing on his bearded lips. You two contemplated the sphere shifting and turning on itself, the hypnotising light chasing and scattering on its surface.

You felt grateful for Master’s decision. He was free to step into the holiest part of the sanctuary, and yet he was here with you. You always felt so at ease with him. He never asked you to play that abysmal dance.

“You have chosen Saint Bragia,” Master said after a long time — you wouldn’t be able to tell how long. “But I have chosen Saint Kishirra. There’s at least three reasons for that, and I cannot share two of them. But one thing I can say.”

You blinked, trying to dispel the contemplative dizziness that had taken you over in the second layer of the Temple.

“Kishirra used to be a lonesome figure. She was an Elf, and as such she was condemned to the worst fate among those who walk with two legs. Her faith saved her, of course, but she had someone to help her along the way.”

You frown a bit, trying to recollect these details in the scriptures, and coming up short.

“There is nothing about this in the records.”

“But of course,” Master replied, his smile even more amused. “Argia, if I were to transplant two olive trees out of their homeland and plant them on the other side of the world, and only one survived, which would be the strongest?”

The answer was obvious, as was the metaphor.

“The one who survived.”

“Your roots run deeper than you know,” he added. “An olive tree needs sunlight, good soil and water to thrive. Sunlight — you will never be in want of, as long as you hold onto Her, Ansàrra will not let go of you.”

“Yes,” you reply, the bout of shame for your reluctance rising again.

“But it also needs water. And for you are a tree, you need someone to carry that water to you. Do not make the mistake to try and live through this year on morning’s moisture alone.”

He took your hand.

“A Knight needs friends. To protect, to fight with, to live and die for.”

“I have my family,” you replied.

“And you always will. And yet you will find it not to be enough. Do not die of thirst on me.”

[cont.]
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>>6045546

# # # # # #

“Hey, you must be the new girl,” says the brunette with a big grin. She swiftly puts her sword against her shoulders and pins her right arm behind it, in a relaxed pose that still hints at her fluid movements and strong body. She holds out her hand, then stops, raises it in the usual welcoming sign of the three raised fingers. “Pleased to meet you. My name is Salicera Fors.”
# # # # # #

Soralisa lies before you, bandaged, feverish. What little skin peeks out of the bandages looks like jet crystal. Can you still call it skin? You are afraid to even hold her hand too hard, for fear you may break it. But when you touch it, her features relax and you feel a little bout of warmth into your heart.

”We will come back for you,” you tell yourself. No need to let the Blessed Blind hear what you want to say. Besides, it’s something for you and your first friend.

# # # # # #

You feel Rubida hold onto you in the darkness. She is trembling softly, even if she tries her hardest to hide it. She has been the thorn in your side for so long, but seeing her like this, so fragile, facing the source of her childhood nightmares, you wonder if maybe she really just has as much right to be called a Knight as you.

You make sure to let her hold onto you as tight as she wants.

# # # # # #

You glance one last time at Salicera right behind you, her confident smile lit up by the faint reflection on Rubida’s breastplate. No, wait, she does not look just confident… almost grateful.

And perhaps, as you pass through the enchanted surface and emerge onto the hall with the floating head, you can think back about that day in the Temple of Flame.

I may have found my water, Master.

# # # # # #

>Silver Knight Quest will return on the 1st of July

Hope you liked this final vignette I had in me. About to finally archive this thread, will post the link shortly.
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>>6045552

The thread is officially archived!

Here is the link, remember to vote!

>https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/2024/6012263/
>>
>>6045546
so master is a believer of the heretic info, interesting
>>6045579
thanks. you really like silver-haired women, don't you ? very nice
>>
https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=Silver%20Knight%20Quest
the link to the voting page, for those who aren't familiar to suptg
>>
>>6045552
Good stuff, QM!

>>6045612
>you really like silver-haired women, don't you ?
Who doesn't?
>>
>>6045612

Yes, but after all when your surname is Delebasse you kinda have to. Also this hints at how Ibardo tends to do his own thing and the hierarchies of the Holy Land may not really like it

And yeah I had at least another protagonist with silver hair

>>6045633
Thanks, glad you liked it!
>>
>>6045747
>Yes, but after all when your surname is Delebasse you kinda have to.
oh right, now I remember the surname of said companion when I checked the story link, kek.



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