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Cursed from birth with silver hair, the sign of evil influence, you play as Argia Candente, a Knight-in-training determined to help your family, show your valour… and keep the friends you worked so hard to make. And last time, you got kissed!

# # # # # #

Welcome to the third thread of Argia Candente's thrilling adventures, a scatterbrained, silver-haired (busty) knight trainee with a penchant for daydreaming and crippling self-doubt. Last thread saw you celebrate your successes and start making actual friends! Will this thread be as full of good news?

>Archive:
>First Thread: https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/2024/6012263
>Second Thread: https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/2024/6049645/

>Voting Link (please vote, my mom checks my threads): https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=Silver%20Knight%20Quest

(thanks everyone for pushing this quest to purple tier! I hope one day we can reach gold!)

Update schedule: usually one update per day. May be multiple posts, depending on narrative pace and player interaction. I will do my best to reply to questions and suggestions though.

As for what happened last time on Silver Knight Quest

# # # # # #

You are Argia Candente, an aspirant Knight of Ansàrra, And everyone considers you cursed because of your silver hair.

When your family lost everything, years ago, you were pushed to try and find a new life in the Holy Land of Madua but you were not granted access. Not unless you complete your training and pass the Trial of Fire as its coronation. After three years being the disciple of renown Master Ibardo Delebasse, you were then forced to start a year of training in the outback of Madua, together with three other trainees who you tried to bond with… and failed.

Over the past few months you butted heads with those three, but your latest mission, where you managed to stop the incarnation of a Demon, made you fire-forged friends. You also celebrated your victories in a quaint little border town, and over the course of the latest day you managed to get further blessings from Ansàrra Herself (and discovered you are a D cup). You also own a neat sword!

After the celebration's climax where you spoke to the crowd about your desire to help your family, you began to hope that people can look past your curse. By the end of the night though, of your newfound friends, the genius swordmaster Salicera (she kissed you, for some reason), has begun worrying you due to certain things she said and did.

You were now just about to share a heart-to-heart to Salicera, but your growing connection to a certain hallowed symbol of your patron Saint, Bragia Lacresta, had you reach out to your Master while Salicera waited for you.

And imagine your surprise when right besides your Master you find Carnaval, the Angel of Ansàrra. Who seems to have important news to share...
>>
>>6098808

every time I complete the OG post in a new thread and the formatting *sticks* I get a bit emotional, give me a moment

# # # # # #

Rules Recap:

We vote by majority to decide actions. In rare cases, if a tie happens I may incorporate both options if narratively possible or interesting. This does NOT happen for combat rolls.

We use 1d100 roll against a DC, plus bonuses.

>natural 1 is a critical failure, natural 100 is a complete success.

Roll vs DC for most checks.

Combat roll is instead Bo3, counting successes against my rolls (usually you need to beat only 1 or 2 of my rolls)

If you or I get dubs, trips or more on the rolling post we add the following values/effects to what was just rolled and only that:
>dubs: +6
>trips: +18
>quads: automatic critical success + kiss on the cheek
>quints: permanent bonus + double kiss on the cheek

these rules apply to my rolls as well but only to the first one (as I use a single post for my rolls)

>Write-Ins:

there will be the occasional prompt for these. Interesting ideas or suggestions may be incorporated in the update even if they don’t reach a majority. Discussions and questions are highly encouraged as they may give you numerical bonuses or allow you to skip dangerous situations!

# # # # # #

Pasta?

Pasta!

>Lore and Important Characters: https://pastebin.com/By6W3xxD

>MC and stats (updated!) https://pastebin.com/CuxGS43X

# # # # # #

And now, the news…
>>
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>>6098811

“Argia Candente,” Carnaval says with a voice like echoing bells, “I wish to speak to you.”

You behold the Angel of Ansàrra, standing in front of you, her glass wings tinkling like far-off bells beckoning to a celebration. Carnaval flexes her marble fingers, as if she wanted to reach out to you — but hesitates and pulls back.
“I have heard your name many times upon the lips of your Master,” she adds. Her voice is so smooth, almost liquid, metallic.

You notice, because you can’t think about anything else to do at this moment. This is the Angel.
Ever since you heard about the Holy Land, you thought about its white shores, the tall towers capped by blue domes, the noble standards flowing in the wind. A land of plenty and of health, a land of full life and life fulfilled, under Ansàrra’s undying watch.
But you have never been to the core of Madua, not to mention ever even saw Her floating palace. You have heard Her voice and you have felt Her presence, especially the other day when Soralisa reached out for you in the Well, and tonight, many times.

But the living Angel.
Here.
For you.

Each of the crystal feathers making up her wings shines with a crimson glow that bathes her smooth skin, like light scattered upon a vermillion sea. Her gilded eyes search for your face, inscrutable. She smells like molten iron, like acrid burning oil, like incense and with the tinge of spilled blood. She is prayer and punishment, and she’s here.

“How— how may I be— of service.” You put together your words, pulling them from the fragments of your scattered mind. Carnaval frowns a little, her wings tinkling softly as she adjusts her posture, hunching over to lose a couple inches, seeming less threatening perhaps. Less glorious? Unlikely.

“Now I had my chosen line wrenched off me. This is indeed a momentous occasion.” She tilts her head, giving you another long look. “It is I who wanted to be of service to thee. Due to my carelessness, you and your companions have been assigned to a mission far more dangerous than your rank or your experience may guarantee. An oversight that has troubled my heart and weighed upon my wings.”

[cont.]

CAPTCHA: KPS2... this brings me back.
>>
>>6098813

Questions rush towards your lips, too many for any of them to spill past your mouth. You can only feel the grass touch the exposed skin of your arms — oh no, Rubida’s work is getting all dirty,
complains a distant part of your mind — as the wind plays with your silver hair.

Carnaval’s golden eyes linger over your head.

“You carry a mighty curse, Argia Candente. I did not desire for it to trouble you any more than it already had. I was careless, and I wish to extend my apologies.”

“I— no, this is—” you reach for Master’s hood to wrap it over your head, but the Angel was just being considerate was she? She did not ask you to cover yourself. At least you certainly hope so. “No apologies required.”

“It is not so,” she sighs. “Nevertheless, you and your companions have shown remarkable progress and astounding resilience before evil. You faced a great and ancient tumour upon the face of this world, and you excised it.”

“Y-Yes,” you agree. “All of us. Soralisa and Rubida and Salicera.” A pause. “I gave some help.”

Your Master chuckles.

“Your Master believes your contribution was much more substantial than ‘help’, Argia Candente. So does everyone else who was there with you, as far as I could gather.”
You jolt.

“You s-spoke with the others?”

“Nay,” she replies with a smile. “There is Another who could inform me of that.”

Oh.

Oh.

[cont.]
>>
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>>6098815

This also reminds you — could Carnaval know anything about your connection to the cameo?

Perhaps you should ask her — as soon as you put your shattered mind back together.

“I- I— I am just trying to do my best. B-But if there is anything I can do…” the Angel raises a hand and you forget how to speak.

“Allow me to finish, please.” She closes her eyes and takes in a long breath. The blood in her crystal wings glows and hums. “Rumour has reached my ears that your manipolo is due to graduate soon. But for some reason this mission, even one against the Sisters—” she bites into the last word, “was not enough. As Law would have it, it is beyond me to intervene in the matters of the Amaranthines.”

That is news to you. The idea that Carnaval — Carnaval! — could think someone is beyond her shakes you like a leaf. It’s like learning the colour blue was red.

“Hence why I have thought of a workaround. All on my own, mind you,” she smiles. It’s a vision. She looks so beautiful. Stunning. “I shall have you four embarked on another mission. One that, were you to succeed, will immediately allow you access to the Trial of Fire.” Her smile grows a little wider as her wings creak. She puffs out her chest just a bit, looking extremely pleased with herself. “And lest you worry, it will mostly be a diplomatic mission. A simple affair involving the Treviri Throne. And even if danger were to arise, you would certainly be able to deal with it. It shall at any rate be far less dangerous than an encounter with a Sister would be.” Her smile falters just for a moment, and Carnaval rubs her hands together, caught by a nervous tic. “I am positive. Well, confident. Hopeful.”

You let her words play around in your mind, echoing in the empty walls of your skull.

The Trial of Fire. A Knight. Your family, safe and secure in the Holy Land.
Everything you have been working for.
Your hand, finally reaching for a cup of wine, raising it to your lips in celebration.

Carnaval eagerly awaits for your reaction.

>Stand up proud and accept right away. This is a once-in-a-lifetime event, the Angel of Ansàrra interceding for you. You’ll take whatever mission she thinks will benefit you.

>Sounds great, but… why now? What would the Blessed Blind say about it? There is no refusing, but shouldn’t you first ask if the Amaranthines wouldn’t veto this mission later on?

>The Treviri Throne? Oh, why the heathen lands? Why did Carnaval decide to send you there of all places?

>There is also something else that just now catches your mind… [Write-in]

this is so much work with 4chan's formatting, but I am so glad to be back. Thank you so much for supporting our beloved doofus. Let's see what troubles she gets herself into this time.
>>
>>6098817
>>Sounds great, but… why now? What would the Blessed Blind say about it? There is no refusing, but shouldn’t you first ask if the Amaranthines wouldn’t veto this mission later on?
Well what's catch?
>>
Glad to see you back, OP. Cheers to more fun adventures and secrets revealed.
>>6098811
>MC and stats (updated!) https://pastebin.com/CuxGS43X
why is Argia's bazzongas' size marked as secret if we know that they're D ?
>>6098817
>she smiles. It’s a vision. She looks so beautiful. Stunning.
wife

>Sounds great, but… why now? What would the Blessed Blind say about it? There is no refusing, but shouldn’t you first ask if the Amaranthines wouldn’t veto this mission later on?
I'm all for it, but I don't wanna it be all for nothing.
>>
>>6098817
>Sounds great, but… why now? What would the Blessed Blind say about it? There is no refusing, but shouldn’t you first ask if the Amaranthines wouldn’t veto this mission later on?
Coming back only to find out our hard work means nothing because of some bullshit office politic sounds frustratingly likely.
>>
>>6098808
>Voting Link (please vote, my mom checks my threads

I am happy she supports your writing and hobby. Get her on here to vote.

>>6098817
>Stand up proud and accept right away. This is a once-in-a-lifetime event, the Angel of Ansàrra interceding for you. You’ll take whatever mission she thinks will benefit you.


Welcome back.
>>
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>>6098896
>what's the catch?
you'll have to sign up for League of Legends season pass

>>6098907
>glad to see you back, cheers

thanks anon! looking forward to more silvery shenanigans!

>a secret

forgot to eDit

>>6098910
>bureaucrats ruining it for everyone
some things are just... true in every world.

>>6099046
>welcome back

thanks!

let's see how this one goes. It's a busy day for me (when it is not?) so I'll say 8 more hours for voting or so. Welcome back everyone.
>>
>>6098817
>Sounds great, but… why now? What would the Blessed Blind say about it? There is no refusing, but shouldn’t you first ask if the Amaranthines wouldn’t veto this mission later on?
>>
>>6098817
>>Sounds great, but… why now? What would the Blessed Blind say about it? There is no refusing, but shouldn’t you first ask if the Amaranthines wouldn’t veto this mission later on?
>>
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>>6098896
>>6098907
>>6098910
>>6099046
>>6099156
>>6099216


>>6098817

“O Crimson Comet,” you begin, praying for words that would not offend her, even if such a thing seems impossible. “I am honoured that you thought of me— of us — for this mission, but. But… I have one question. If I may.”

“You may,” she allows, looking a tad confused.

“We have been given to the care and rule of the Blessed Blind, Astoria di Ottava Ora. We are still beneath it.” your eyes shift towards your Master who shrugs. “And I wonder: could this cause conflict with the Amaranthines later on? I do not mind bowing the head to my betters, but I do not want the efforts of my friends to go in vain.”

And you also wouldn’t want the chance to free your family to be overturned on a whim or a technicality. Admitted such a thing could happen to Carnaval. You cannot pretend you understood even a lick of it, but Rubida’s words during your interaction with the Blessed Blind have shaken you to your core. It’s like there is a whole different side to the Holy Land, one full of unseen words and treacherous steps, from which your Master has hitherto protected you from.

Carnaval’s golden eyes burn a little darker at your words. She tilts her head to look at your Master and they share a look, gold mixed with his grey.

[cont.]
>>
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>>6099264

“Child,” Carnaval starts, tapping her marble finger against her platinum lips, “the lofty councils and gatherings of the Holy Land may clash with each other sometimes. We cannot expect a pond to hold clear water if we let it lie still. Yet, this would count as a personal favour to me,” she taps her chest. “Few callings would be considered higher. None could overrule it.”

“If I may,” your Master interjects, standing up and stretching his arms, “I believe that our Argia was shaken by certain things she has seen, or not seen as of late. It’s in her nature to worry about this.” He gives you a smile and you feel your heart picking up pace. Maybe you won’t be reduced to ash by a blast of cleansing light.

“I see. A worthy question, then.” Carnaval blinks and she seems to go back to her good mood, even excited. “I hope this news will be cause of joy for your friends as well.”

“They will,” you reassure her. At least, they surely will be for Salicera. She seemed eager to try her blade against some new enemy. And Rubida and Soralisa would benefit from less time in the outback.

In fact, this is great news. But there is a patina of worry about it you cannot wholly shake.

For the time being, you let go of it.
Better this way.

“When would we depart?”
“One turn,” Carnaval informs you. “To gather your bearings and to travel to the coast. And one more day for any further delay and allow the other party to meet up with you.”

“Meet up? Are they coming… walking on hallowed ground?” The idea of heathen boots of the Throne walking over the streets and fields of Madua makes your stomach lurch.

Carnaval shakes her head.

“Starless Night, nay! Perish the thought. You will meet up on boat.”

You nod. Makes sense. Even in the rare occasions when diplomats and dignitaries of the other Powers are allowed access to the waters of the Holy Land, every exchange happens on the open sea, far from the shores.

So. Seven days from now.

You will have time to rest and recover. And perhaps to have that heart to heart with Salicera.

Your hand reaches for your cameo. You also may have a question for Carnaval, while she is here.

>Ask about the connection with your cameo

>Ask about the role of the Blessed Blind over all this. Astoria made it look like you’d be under her for the remainder of your training, even if it was supposed to only be this one mission

>Ask about Soralisa. Is there any chance for her to fully recover?

>[Write-In]: you ask all that, and more (add another quick question that may be answered)
>>
>>6099266
>>Ask about Soralisa. Is there any chance for her to fully recover?
>>
>>6099266
>>Ask about the connection with your cameo
>>
>>6099266
>>Ask about the connection with your cameo
>>
>>6099266
>Ask about Soralisa. Is there any chance for her to fully recover?
>>
>>6099266
>Ask about the connection with your cameo
>>
>>6099266
>Ask about the connection with your cameo
Not because I value it more than Soralisa, but because I have faith. if Soralisa is to recover, with divine aid, it won't be because we asked as a personal favor. That isn't how forces of good operate one hopes.
>>
>>6099314
>>6099434

2 for Soralisa

>>6099358
>>6099418
>>6099468
>>6099605

4 for cameo info

writing!
>>
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>>6099605
really liked this way of thinking by the way. hold onto that feeling anon. it's right at the core of this quest.

one day you will see.

>>6099266

As your fingers trace the profile of Saint Bragia over the ivory, you also wonder if Carnaval can tell you something more about the strange connection you have felt over the days and months. Your growing bond with Saint Bragia Lacresta.
“There is another thing. I-If I may.”

“I have a little more time yet,” the angel nods, her wings tinkling and creaking behind her. “Ask away.”

“I have began to feel queer about my bond with this thing.” You pull the cameo off your neck and show it to Carnaval, her golden eyes tinging with interest. “It is Master’s gift.”

You stand up again and walk to the angel, setting the most precious thing you own into her marble hand. She raises it to her eyes and you notice the golden light painting the edge of the cameo into a soft yellow. The angel’s eyes glow.

“This is exquisite. Why would you be worried about your attachment to a thing, at any rate? Are you worried about the pitfalls of greed?”

“Nay,” you vehemently deny, shaking your head. “I was— I have been taught a serious lesson about those. I come from the Mar da Candéa.”

“Your family name.” Carnaval’s other hand reaches for your cheek, rubs one long and smooth finger against your skin, all the way to your forehead. As she does so, you feel some kind of pressure growing inside you and echo against the tip of her finger. As she withdraws it, you almost stumble forward, holding your forehead in your hands. That was… different.

Carnaval’s jaw sets. The soft glow of her eyes turns brighter, sharper.

[cont.]
>>
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>>6099883

“The merchants of Frigéia,” she grits her teeth. “They took from me and they took from you in thy turn. When I shall flounder one of their vessels in the future, I shall etch your name on the ship’s side, child. Let it be known.” She pulls her hand back, letting it fall by her side. “But that is not what worries you.” She holds up the Saint’s effigy, looking at it under the brightness of the planetary ring. “This is not familiar to me. It is older than I have been in this world.” She sighs, the traces of sourness on her face disappear and she gives it back to you. “No matter how high one soars, we are all subjected to doctrine. I am…” she hesitates. Her cheeks glow a little brighter as well. “Ah, child. My strength lies not in poignant answers to ancient questions. My wings are the voice of Ansàrra, my blood is Her vengeance, my talons are Her swords and my song Her edict.” She folds her hands over her chest and shows you a light bow. “Now I have to apologise twice in one night. I cannot answer what you ask for, but I can remind you that if such a bond exists, it comes from the Sun-Birther.” Her smile turns fonder, as if remembering someone dear to her. “We are all grains of sand sifting through Her onyx hand.”

“I see.” You take the cameo back into your han and set it onto your neck once more. You share one look with Master and the same fondness shines in his grey eyes as well.

Perhaps you will have to find an answer to this mystery by going directly to the source.

“May I also— ah, I don’t want to waste your time, but I want to ask: my friend—”

“The one who risked her life channelling far too much,” she nods, fanning her tinkling wings out. “Soralisa da Zaribari.” They stretch onto the grass, painting it crimson, until they are just as wide as she is tall, perhaps more. They look so imposing. A marble statue, holding the searing light of dawn, framed by blood-stained glass. “I cannot foresee her future. But she has been helped. I see no reason why she would be in want of help in the days ahead.” A pause as she bows her head to you one last time. “Be it coming from above, or from friends she may hold close. Your path is surrounded by thorns, Argia Candente. But there is steel in thee. Not just silver. Perhaps you ought to remember that.”

[cont.]
>>
>>6099884

Carnaval folds one of her wings over her chest and with a snap like cracking ice she detaches one of her feathers off the rest. Blood droplets shower on the grass and burn through it like acid, sizzling on the ground.

“Take this in memory of what you truly are. And of me, if you so want.”

“I— I don’t know what to say, o Carnaval.”

Your hands close on the crystal. It’s hard and warm, thrumming with a hidden heartbeat. The blood vessels inside like like glowing cracks of ruby in the see-through glass.

“Then do not,” she smiles. “May swords carry you when words fail! Especially when you shall have to deal with the Mage!” She chuckles, unfolds her wings and with a thunderous creaking and tinkling of glass, a bout of wind pushes you back on your knee as the Crimson Comet raises high in the sky. Another beat of wings and she’s off, a glowing white and red dot, streaking across the night sky like a shooting star, too stubborn to fall and crash.

You look at the so-called feather she left you. It’s as large as a dagger, and seemingly just as sharp. Where your bare skin touches it, it lights your blood up, as if your skin was nothing more than glass. It makes you shiver, but it’s pleasantly warm.

Then something else reaches you.

The echo of the angel’s words.

Mage.

Does that mean…

“We are going on a missions with an Asterite?”


>Stay a while with Master and discuss what just happened. Even if it means feeling tired tomorrow.

>Too much emotion for one day. Maybe it’s time to just call it a night.

>Did Master see your molten spring? You feel like discussing the experience with him. Is he… proud of you?

>You likely won’t find your answers here. Better go back to talk with Soralisa, if she’s still up.

And now you have one more keepsake! Wonder what that feather will be useful for? Oh and... Mages. Asterites. This is getting complicated... who knows what the future has in store for you? As always, thanks for playing.
>>
>>6099885
>>Too much emotion for one day. Maybe it’s time to just call it a night.
>>
>>6099885
>You likely won’t find your answers here. Better go back to talk with Soralisa, if she’s still up.
>>
>>6099885
>Stay a while with Master and discuss what just happened. Even if it means feeling tired tomorrow.
>Did Master see your molten spring? You feel like discussing the experience with him. Is he… proud of you?
We came to talk to the old man. let's not leave without doing so. Who knows when he'll see Master DILF again?
>>
>>6099885
>>Too much emotion for one day. Maybe it’s time to just call it a night
>>
>>6099885
>Stay a while with Master and discuss what just happened. Even if it means feeling tired tomorrow.
damn, Argia is so lucky.
>>
>>6099885
>Stay a while with Master and discuss what just happened. Even if it means feeling tired tomorrow.
>>
>>6099885
>>Did Master see your molten spring? You feel like discussing the experience with him. Is he… proud of you?
>>
>>6099885
>>Stay a while with Master and discuss what just happened. Even if it means feeling tired tomorrow.
>>
>>6099890
>>6099959

go to bed

>>6099907

go find Soralisa

>>6099950
>>6100098
>>6100105
>>6100274

discuss what just happened with Master

>>6100274

focus on Master's impression of you

thanks a lot for the votes anon. Writing now.
>>
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>>6099885

You made a promise to yourself to never drink wine again, at least until your family is safe.
Thankfully, that promise does not cover other alcoholic beverages. And your Master’s special reserve is always at the ready.

“A toast to disciples who exceed all expectations,” he says topping up your small glass.

“Ha toasht,” you reply, your tongue already starting to feel thick and heavy in your mouth. Your head is pleasantly buzzed out. Oh, how you missed this. “To Masters.” You drink it all up in one gulp and as it fills your mouth with its oily and heated kiss, the drink warms your chest and your belly. “Ahhh—” you let yourself fall on the grass, looking up at the silver ring. The wind runs its invisible fingers through the grass and plays with the strand of your silver hair.

Carnaval saw you without your hood.

She singled you out for a personal favour.

“And feathers.” You add, looking at the crystal in your hand. It’s hefty and still warm, still thrumming with deep life. “I just hope all this will help me get my family out of the Landing Strip. Give them the life they deserve.”

“When you do, an old man will be out of a job,” Master chuckles.

“Don’t say that!” You reply. How did Carnaval put it? “Perish the thought! You’ll always be my Master, even if… when…” you don’t really have a segue for that. Your brain is getting all mushy. “Always.”

Which does convey the point.

A few more moments of silence. The wind plays with your hair.

“Thank you for having me, Argia,” he replies.

[cont.]
>>
>>6100795

“Master, I—”
“This is a night for honesty, so I should try to be honest myself. Before I found you, I thought I would spend the years that the Sun Birther would leave me as the banner to an order of valiant but strict Knights. I felt aimless. The Holy Land caught in petty disputes and Mannish arguments. But then I took you in, and you took to the Faith like paper to flame, and it brought you into the brightest light. These things do not happen by accident.” He lays next to you, picking up your cameo. “You said you feel a connection to Bragia Lacresta.”

“I do. I had a vision of her, back then. She was also taking part in the molten spring.” A pause. “Did you…”
“The best I had the honour to witness, in a long, long time. Someone over the gates of Dawn had a hand in that, and I say this as a compliment.”

Carnaval was so overwhelming. Magnificent and far different from how you imagined her to be. She stunned you. But you know Master.
You can allow yourself to smile widely next to him.
To rub at your tired eyes. Ah, something must have gotten in them.
Dust carried by the wind, no less.

“This cameo was gifted to me, and I gave it to you as a reminder. There used to be a girl much like you, once. A girl who had a hard time making friends, a girl who doubted herself and her value to Ansàrra, a girl who became a a martyr. The Mourned.”

You nod. It’s as fresh as the first time you heard that story, when Master told it to you. Saint Bragia.
Betrayed, burned, buried.

“She was neither the strongest nor the most exceptional of the servants of Ansàrra. She did not have the skills in arms and the resilience of Kishirra. She did not possess an inkling of the might of Carnaval. And yet, she is greater than those two.” He lets the cameo fall back against your chest. “Because she had trust. I think Ansàrra sees a bit of Bragia Lacresta in you as well. That is the reason why this cameo leads your way. And the reason why Sunseekers and Amaranthines and Blessed Blinds shut in their white towers would never understand it.” He chuckles again. “And here I am, Head of my order, and committing the worst of sins, speaking as if I was privy to Her thoughts.” Master shrugs. “Yet some things do not need proof for belief. And most importantly…”

[cont.]
>>
>>6100835

He stands on his elbow, aiming his thumb down to the town.

“You have friends now. You are giving water to your tree. I am sure it will grow strong and beautiful.”

“Y-Yes.” Salicera’s face flashes before your eyes. You wonder if you should speak about your doubts with Master, but given all that happened, with the way Salicera earned your trust again and again, you’d feel like it’d be walking on treaded ground. Better not to. “I’m trying. I really… I can’t believe my luck.”

“You have earned your luck, Argia.” He reaches out for you and pulls you into a hug. “I am proud of you.” He runs his fingers through your hair and another of those knots you felt in your heart ever since the moment you left for this year, that treacherous voice that kept whispering in your ear (Master did not want you! Master got rid of a bad disciple! Master did not want to have anything to do with your curse, silver girl!) finally dissipates.

You cry against his chest, wetting his shirt. He takes it without a word, allowing you to ride the wave of your sorrow, of his understanding, until the wind has changed, and the stars have too, and the stormy sea inside you finally turns into a placid shore.

He pulls away from you. Your head feels heavy. Everything is buzzing. Your eyelids feel heavy.

“The night is growing thin. Can you walk?”

“Mmhhssyesh,” you groan, and he chuckles, helping you to stand up.

“Party girl. I’ll help you on your way back.” He drapes your arm around his shoulder and together, his other hand using Kishirra’s poleaxe as a walking stick (the heresy! but you are too tired to argue…) he helps you go back to town. “After all,” he sighs, “it’s likely we won’t see each other for a while.”


>Wait, the Asterites… Master has traveled far and wide, he’ll know something about them!

>Your friends… you didn’t believe they’d grow so fond of you. Wonder what Master thinks about them?

>You won’t see each other for a while? But you just met so soon! Can’t he stay at least one more day? You get ready to plead…

>[Write-in] Another thought sprouts in your head...

Glad the cameo's mystery is definitely solved. I'm happy we can put that behind ourselves forever. Argia is getting ready for her new journey. Let's all hope she's ready... and thanks for playing.
>>
>>6100839
>>Wait, the Asterites… Master has traveled far and wide, he’ll know something about them!
>>
>>6100839
>Wait, the Asterites… Master has traveled far and wide, he’ll know something about them!
>>
>>6100839
>Wait, the Asterites… Master has traveled far and wide, he’ll know something about them!
Good to see this back. Also, if Argia was an Asterite, would she also have a good understanding mentor?
>>
>>6100839
>>Wait, the Asterites… Master has traveled far and wide, he’ll know something about them!
>>
>>6100839
>>Wait, the Asterites… Master has traveled far and wide, he’ll know something about them!
>>
>>6100839
>Your friends… you didn’t believe they’d grow so fond of you. Wonder what Master thinks about them?
>>
>>6100839
>>Wait, the Asterites… Master has traveled far and wide, he’ll know something about them!
>>
>>6100848
>>6100862
>>6100870
>>6100889
>>6100910
>>6101354

lotsa love for the Asterites. You are going to meet one of them soon enough

>>6100914

interesting choice anon. maybe one day Master will tell you his thoughts. props for choosing this option.

writing!
>>
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>>6100839

Master’s words push an icicle straight into your heart.
You won’t see him for a while… even as you just reunited.
“I see. I wanted… I hoped…”

“I am requested elsewhere,” he explains, helping you climb downhill towards the city. Now that the celebration has died down, most people have gone back to their homes and the streets are once again empty. You can see it from there. How clean and well-kept everything looks. Even in such a small backwater town as this…

“How are the Throne-Lands?” You ask then, reminded of the foul rumours that surround the people from those place. The Throne is the largest and most-populated of the Powers, a lumbering giant that sometimes swings its fists this way and that. They are known to miss, but when they do hit…
Even the Holy Land suffered through the echoes of the last Eldritch War.

“Vast and strange,” he replies, his voice taking that dusty tone you’re used to when he starts recounting the past. “The stars seem to shine brighter there, and the more south you go, the brighter they get, until they look like fire-lit jewels when you reach the Borderlands.”

“Have you been there?”

“Just the very outskirts. The will of Ansàrra has not brought me there for now.”

“And how will the Throne people react to our presence? The Throne has not been a friend of Madua.”

He rubs your shoulder to reassure you. You are going to miss Master’s presence. The way he can make you smile with a gesture.

“Neither has the Emperor been unfriendly to us. Friederigo is a reasonable man, a trait most uncommon in those of his line. You and your friends will have to fear little from him or the regular troops of the Throne. In fact…” he chuckles, “I’m afraid you’ll have to hold onto your robes! The people over there are prone to superstition and hearsay, and they’ll believe a patch of your clothes is enough to heal their cough, or it can be used to keep wine from spoiling, and such.” He shakes his head. “There’s good people on our side, Argia. There’s good people over there too. And yet…” his gaze turns darker as the slope turns into a plain. “This Asterite Carnaval picked for your mission… I am a bit concerned.”

[cont.]
>>
>>6101433

The woman lies beneath the large, muscular man. With a grunt, he pulls away, having finished his job. The female beneath glints with sweat, smooth tanned skin etched by pale scars, her long blond hair stuck to her back. Sitting on the bed, he makes it creak with the weight and mass of his huge body. By contrast, the woman looks so frail, almost fragile, even with her defined arms and muscles. It looks like he could break her like a twig, if he wanted to.
She flexes her long fingers, and with a swift movement of her wrist she snaps out of the cuffs that had tied her to the bed, sitting in front of him and pulling her long blonde hair into a ponytail.

“How was I?” The man asks.

“Adequate,” she replies, a satisfied glint going off in her green eyes. They are a very pale green, almost grey, the colour of jade and faded moss, dried by flight, forgetful rain.

The man’s huge shoulders relax. He lets out a deep breath, relieved.

“Thanks, Magistra.”

“No thanks yet,” she replies in her soothing voice. She sounds like silk rubbing on silk, and yet the man’s hands twitch at the steel hidden in her tone. “I want you at the ready for when I come back from this mission. Remember: no showers while I'm away.” She picks a pair of soft-woven gloves and slowly pulls them on, hiding from sight the silvery scars covering the back of her hands. “I am going to need your services when I get back from babysitting that gang of Maduan dykes.” She grins, a smile like a sickle.

“I’ll save my final rating for later.”

[cont.]
>>
>>6101435

# # # # # #

“Why? Do you know them?”

“No. Her rank is quite high, but not high enough. Besides, i have heard she is a tad... peculiar. That is all I know.”

You frown. You do not like the idea of spending time with Asterites. They are dangerous people.

And their powers make your skin crawl. The way someone could have something like that without it descending from Ansàrra—
Even for someone like you, grown under the looming shadow of the Echorian, it feels unnatural.

You stumble forward, the cobwebs of sleeps now starting to truly cover your eyes. Between the alcohol and everything else… it was a long, long day.

You are faintly aware of Master opening a door and leading you to your bed. He sets you on the creaking mattress, running his fingers through your silver hair.
He does not mind.
He never did.
You are going to miss him.

“Master—” your head reaches for his own and he allows you to leave it there, but your grip is weak, between how tired you are and the spirits in your body. “Why are you concerned?”

“An old man is allowed his worries,” he sets a kiss on your brow and stands away. “I am sure you will do just fine, Argia.” A pause. “I am proud of you.”

“Ah-”

Your arm falls at your side. Lulled by those words, you allow yourself to slowly fall into sleep, your other hand wrapped around the cameo.
The last thing you see is Master closing the door to your room behind himself, and the last thing you hear is his voice.

“Salicera? A word, please.”

Ah, you were supposed to…
To…
The blanket of sleep tucks you in.

[cont.]
>>
>>6101440

# # # # # #

You turn to glance a the small town that welcomed you. The crowd, young and old, farmer and sheep, cows and horses and young women whispering to themselves and tanned farm hands checking out Rubida as she rides on her horse, they are all waving and cheering as the group of four Knight (in training!) departs.

Master is at the helm. He’ll be with you for a part of the journey, at least.

Astoria is nowhere to be seen. It seems like she disappeared since the night of the celebration. Your Master explained it as ‘State affairs’, whatever that may mean. He wore one of his dusty smiles when he said so.

The morning after the celebration, a weary Salicera shot you a glance and made you understand that for the time being, there would be no talking.

Perhaps now that you left the town you can start to get closer again. You feel like you let her down.

At least, Soralisa is starting to get her sensitivity back. It’s going to take a long time, but she’s confident that with time and prayer, she’ll recover.

For the time being, she rides in front of Rubida.

And so, five people and four horses, you leave the town, riding towards the port where you will meet with this mysterious Asterite… and after you’ll have passed this new trial…
You pull your robes a bit tighter, Carnaval’s gift pressing against your chest.

“A Knight, finally,” you mumble, thinking of your family’s relieved faces.

But for the time being, feeling your new sword safely tucked in its beautiful new sheath, you’ll have to focus on how to get there.

The sky is getting cloudy again.

>Ask Master if he can spar with Salicera. Will this help you get back in her good graces?

>What do your friends know about Asterites and this mission anyway? How about you do one more briefing, just to make sure?

>Travel to the coast is going to take a while. You have time to revise your training — you worked well as a group last time, but this time you’ll have to work in sync…

>[Write-In]

>>6100870
>glad to see this back
thanks anon! I'm happy too!

>Asterite!Argia's Mentor

this is a very interesting question. The short answer is 'haha fuck no', and you'll find the long answer in the next updates.

As always, thanks a lot for playing.
>>
>>6101435
>She flexes her long fingers, and with a swift movement of her wrist she snaps out of the cuffs that had tied her to the bed
>Remember: no showers while I'm away.
freaky woman

>“I am going to need your services when I get back from babysitting that gang of Maduan dykes.” She grins, a smile like a sickle.
friendly rivalry
>>6101441
>Travel to the coast is going to take a while. You have time to revise your training — you worked well as a group last time, but this time you’ll have to work in sync…
>>
>>6101435
Our own boytoy when?

>>6101441
>>Travel to the coast is going to take a while. You have time to revise your training — you worked well as a group last time, but this time you’ll have to work in sync…
>>
>>6101470
>Our own boytoy when?
no boytoys for us, only manhusband
>>
>>6101441
>Ask Master if he can spar with Salicera. Will this help you get back in her good graces?
Feels like we should've talked with Salicera. Bit of a misstep.

>you'll find the long answer in the next updates.
I see. I doubt that Asterites are known for their humility or good treatment. I suppose godly nuclear magic turns you into a freak.
>>6101435
> Remember: no showers while I'm away.
Truly, she is Napoleonpilled.
>>
>>6101440
Blonde? Light eyes? A freak? Sorry Stilly, this is my new bae.

>>6101441
>Travel to the coast is going to take a while. You have time to revise your training — you worked well as a group last time, but this time you’ll have to work in sync…
>>
>>6101531
which quest do you make ?
>>
>>6101576

>>6089315

Harry Potter Universe quest, set about 20 years after the last book. The MC ends up needing to spend a year abroad, so she is heading to the American Hogwarts, Ilvermorny with her twin. Still finishing up the prelude. Influenced by Disappearing Hogwarts Quest but that one is not required reading aside from Easter Eggs.

Come check it out!
>>
>>6101583
wait, were you that same anon who did horny fics of DH in previous generals ?
>>
>>6101590
I am the artist formerly known as smutAnon, chattyAnon, ect, yes. No smut in my quest yet.

I think I only posted 1 fic in the general during the hiatus, the rest were limited to the DHQ threads.
>>
>>6101441
>Ask Master if he can spar with Salicera. Will this help you get back in her good graces?

>>6101522
I didn't know we were going to get plastered with Master, or I wouldn't have voted that way. Sometimes, though, so it goes. Can Salicera truly begrudge us wanting to catch up with someone so important, whom we won't see for a long time? Maybe, but if she really begrudges us that for very long, it will tell us a great deal about her suitability as a paramour, or lack thereof. And I say that as someone on Team Sally!
>>
>>6101601
>does Salicera really really begrudges us?

keep in mind this is Argia we are talking about and remember her infinite plus people skills

>>6101583

good luck with your new quest! might check it out!
>>
>>6101441

>Travel to the coast is going to take a while. You have time to revise your training — you worked well as a group last time, but this time you’ll have to work in sync…
>>
>>6101760
>good luck with your new quest! might check it out!

Thank you!
>>
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>>6101462
>freaky
you have no idea.
>>6101470
>>6101531
>new bae
kek, just wait
>>6101782

>revise training and focus on your roles a little better

>>6101522

>Master pls

update will come a little earlier because I have some stuff to do later on. writing!


kinda unrelated, can't guarantee more puppet show for this thread but I'll try to write one, I enjoyed putting it in last time
>>
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>>6101441

A few hours later, a light drizzle has caught you by surprise. Your group has found cover under a large stone sticking out of the trail. You stand right beneath its lip, looking up at the grey sky, hiding the planetary ring with its dull hue.
The last time you found yourself in such a situation, Soralisa could still use both arms.
She is laying on the floor now, reading one of her books, while Rubida patiently takes care of her air and turns the pages for her.

Salicera is taking a break, laying against the moss, her face covered by her hood. You do not know how to deal with her yet. You have a feeling she’s trying to hide it, but missing your planned encounter hurt her. Especially after you yourself insisted so much.

Master reaches you, the noise of his heavy boots making you turn.

“Is it soothing to watch it rain?”
“It is,” you agree, pulling your hood tighter over your head. Now that you are crossing the heartlands of Madua, you don’t want to risk revealing your silver-coloured head. “I’m trying to clear my mind up a bit.”

“That worried about the Asterites?”

“Not just that. The mission as well. Carnaval did not specify much,” you shrug. “I don’t even know what we are supposed to do.”

“She wasn’t any less secretive with me. I believe it’s because she can be scatterbrained sometimes. She certainly wouldn’t have kept details hidden on purpose.”

Carnaval… scatterbrained? If it wasn’t Master suggesting this, you’d draw your sword to cleave through such heresy.

[cont.]
>>
>>6101942

You purse your lips.

“At any rate, I feel responsible.”

At those words, Master’s steel gaze turns a bit mischievous. You have learned to fear these moments.

“Go figure. And I believe you used to just be their Vanguard, not their leader.”

“I’m not,” you reply, fidgeting. “I likely never will. But it’s just going to be the four of us out there, no Blessed Blind to rely on, no Military Chaplain to fall back onto… and they did follow me to the black end of the world.”

“And all the way back. You have proven yourself to be reliable, Argia. Do not shy away from this role, lean into it. You will be a Knight soon, and then you’ll feel that weight every day.”

“Will it ever get easier?”
“Nay,” he replies with a grin. “But your shoulders get stronger.”

You nod in understanding.
“Very well.”

You turn towards the others.
“Uh, if I may—” Salicera pulls the hood off her face and gives you a glance, as the other two also turn to look at you. Always under scrutiny. It’s no worse than the stage, though… “I thought that we have rested well enough. Even if this is a diplomatic mission, I…” how to explain this? “I have a hunch we are going to need our swords anyway.”

“I was not going to leave it to rust,” Salicera smirks, standing up, her hand already running to her weapon. It’s the same sword you nicked with your tetracerarmide blade.

“What do you propose then?” Rubida listens patiently, Soralisa as well.

[cont.]
>>
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>>6101943

You can feel Master’s proud smile warming the back of your neck. And your cheeks are also getting warmer.

“I— I was thinking we must not lose our keen.” You unsheathe your new blade, the white edge glistening even in the dull light of the rainy day. “Sparring. And after that, give a bit of thought about our formation, given Soralisa’s… given Soralisa can focus on support, Sanctions and helping us not to fall flat on our face.”

The brunette looks down.

“I am serious! I know next to nothing about the Treviri Throne. Rubida?”

She shrugs.

“Salicera?”
“Don’t ask me.”

“See? You are our only reliable source of information. I want you to be comfortable in your new role, which means…” you raise your weapon. “It’s up to us three to protect her. Now, sparring. Who wants to go first?”

Your chest wound feels much better after all.

>You pick Rubida. She’s bound to be the closest to Soralisa anyway.

>Salicera. Swords trump words anyway… and this way you can have a steely conversation.

>Master is here… it would be a grave mistake not to ask him.

>Or perhaps… [Suggest a combination of the two, or something else.]

Thanks for playing! Our silver girl is going up in the world! Let's all hope it's a good thing and she can bear the responsibilities!
>>
>>6101944
>Master is here… it would be a grave mistake not to ask him.
>>
>>6101944
>You pick Rubida. She’s bound to be the closest to Soralisa anyway.

We must out-do her head cheerleader energy by beating her into submission.
>>
>>6101944
>>Master is here… it would be a grave mistake not to ask him.
>>
>>6101944
>Master is here… it would be a grave mistake not to ask him.
>>
>>6101944
>Or perhaps… [Suggest a combination of the two, or something else.]
>Master and Salicera
As a bit of an apology for flaking on her with the talk. I still feel bad about it, especially after being a bit pushy about it, but people were excited for Master.
>>
>>6101944
>>6102110 +1

>>6101927
Hey look, our Canon D-Cups! And Canon Love of Puppets!
>>
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>>6101944
>>Master is here… it would be a grave mistake not to ask him.

>>6102182
Did someone say Cannon in D?
>>
>>6102397
I normally like smaller women but I do love that we rolled so well for her boob size.
>>
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>>6102397
this is SO cute!
>>6102470
this as well. I also like enjoy more petite dimensions, but Argia got stacked. Master's fault, with his bread+milk enforced diet.

luckily I'll have my revenge... my pettanko princess is about to enter the stage...

>>6101952
>"Master!"
>>6101988
>"Master?"
>>6101995
>"Master..."
>>6102397
>"Master!!"
>>6102110
>>6102182
>"...oh... and Salicera too."

>>6101957
based Rubida stan. your vote will not be forgotten, absolute chad


writing in a bit, then update!
>>
>>6102535
>based Rubida stan. your vote will not be forgotten, absolute chad

I normally like light colored hair, but I am in no way opposed to black hair, especially if they have light colored eyes. What color are Rubi's anyway? Might try to AI gen some images later, even though it blocked me when I tried for Argia because i used the tern "large breasts".
>>
>>6102535
Master is too cool. I bet he was a big fucking dork when he was young. Probably had a chuuni phase.
>>
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>>6102535
Art Noveau is my weakness
>>
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>>6102540
>Rubida's eyes

she has jet-black hair, pale skin and deep blue eyes, while Argia's are a more of a sharp, clearer blue. Her features are considered aristocratic because they supposedly hint at a Kiengir heritage (while in-universe there is no such thing, Kiengir would never mix with baseline humans. they also had sable-coloured skin)

cute pic! now that's a butt worthy of a Knight!

>large breasts blocked

try 'fullbodied', 'motherly figure', aigen is a bitch when it comes to censorship

>>6102550
>Master has a chuuni phase

Ibardo Delebasse's past is full of mystery...

>>6102570
that and French symbolism. those two styles go so well with Fantasy. I personally use more of an Italian inspiration for my setting (who would have guessed, hm?), while Kiengiri stuff is explicitly megalithic/Sumerian in nature, but symbolism/art nouveau goes well with the more magical places of the setting such as the Echorian, the Twelve Cities of Tramontana (the place where Asterites mostly come from) and certain parts of the Borderlands.


writing!
>>
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>>6101944

“I think I’ll take this dance,” Master says, taking a step forward, bending at the waist before you. “If you will allow me this honour, Argia Candente.”

Rubida snickers, delighted.
Salicera grins, sitting with her legs crossed, hands on her thighs.
“This is going to be entertaining to watch.” And then: “Kick his ass, Argia!”
“I-I could never! Even suggesting anything like that…”
“It’s a figure of speech! Calm down, I know how devoted you are,” she replies, waving her hand. “But it’s nice to see you panic a little.”
“Uhm…” you blush and look away. You really need to reach out to Salicera after this.
“Master Delebasse, a word, please?” Soralisa interjects, trying to raise one arm and wincing when she cannot.
“Yes?”“Are you sure you want to use your relic for—for sparring? I doubt even Argia’s tetracerarmide’s weapon can withstand the hallowed blindglass…”
“Oh, this thing?” He swings Kishirra’s poleaxe, cutting through the air with a thrumming echo. It almost sounds like he’s plucking chords on an harp with the Kiengir marvel. “Argia is used to it.”

Soralisa’s mouth hangs open.

“M-Master Delebasse? Y-You trained and sparred with Argia using a blindglass weapon?”

“For three years.”

You nod. What is Soralisa so scared about? You are perfectly aware Master’s weapon can cut through steel like wet paper.
How would you get so agile, otherwise?

“One thing, though,” he adds, raising one finger. Soralisa’s brown eyes get even wider. You can almost hear the gears going on in her mind, thinking Master has suddenly changed his idea, that he will pick up a normal weapon… “This is not my weapon by any stretch of the imagination. I’m just its bearer and warden, for the time being. Try to remember that.”

Rubida gently closes Salicera’s jaw.

“I-I of course, Master Delebasse. I will treasure this moment.”

Rubida sneakily bites her lip, rubbing her thighs together as she turns to look at the two of you.
You wonder what she’s so excited about.


[cont.]
>>
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Rolled 38, 63, 99 + 92 = 292 (3d100 + 92)

>>6102636

This is just some sparring… and you are getting ‘your ass kicked’, to use one of Salicera’s weird expressions.

“She has quite the sturdy head, hasn’t she?” He mutters, a glint going off in his grey eyes. “And there’s nothing to worry about. Her old teacher has gotten lazy and careless.”

You gulp.
That’s what Master always says when he feels like showing off.

“L-Lynx?” You plead, quickly bending at the waist in salute and then quickly falling back into the prudent, defence-focused stance, your white-edged sword held up in front of you.

As if this thing is going to help you at all. Even if it wasn’t a priceless artefact, Master holds a poleaxe.

There’s just no competition.

Master shakes his head.

“You are their Vanguard, or am I mistaken? Lion.”

“L-Lion, of course.” You switch into an aggressive stance, sword aimed at Master, your body tilted. Your heart beats so hard in your chest.

It’s going to be quick.
Probably painless.

“Sharp is the Dawn,” Master declares.

“And relentless,” you reply, and you dash ahead…


>Combat Roll: remember this is just sparring. Please keep your limbs attached to your torso over the course of this combat roll.

>You roll 1d100+19+10 (from Cameo, which seems determined to lend you help...), for a total 1d100+29.
>Each reply/anon rolls 1d100+29 which is compared to each of my rolls, in turn (first roll to first roll, second to second etc)
>I roll 3d100+92
>Beat at least 1 out of 3 of my rolls.
>Dubs and trips bonuses apply


Speaking of easter eggs, the 'Lion' and 'Lynx' stances are not, AFAIK, actual stances in swordplay, but they derive their name from a famous diagram in a Medieval sword handbook. Thanks for playing and now... good luck.
>>
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>>6102642
>99

Looks like Master is actually quite springy on those old legs.
>>
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Rolled 42 + 29 (1d100 + 29)

>>6102642
>>
Rolled 35 + 29 (1d100 + 29)

>>6102642
I heard this quest needs help with some [i]real good[/i] rolls?
>>
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>>6102648
beautiful pic, anon

as a reminder

Your new sword's edge is made of tetraceramide, which is astoundingly sharp. You get a Critical Success on a range of 97-100 on a natural roll.

And yes, only a natural roll. It basically gives you a 4% chance to crit per roll.

Of course, you Master's weapon is made of blindglass, known as the 'fuck-you' material... wouldn't be Kiengiri stuff if it wasn't ridiculous.
>>
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>>6102650
now more than ever

thanks anyway for coming to the rescue! buffet and bandages are on me
>>
Rolled 31 + 29 (1d100 + 29)

>>6102642
>>
>>6102666

props for the Satan trips (or is it Ansàrra's trips now?)

ok, thanks for the rolls. Writing!
>>
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>>6102669
Master is too strong
>>
>>6102648
>>6102650
>>6102666

Shit we are not giving a good showing...

>>6102669
Stilly my beloved.
>>
>>6102671
beautiful pic anon. and yea, he's OP as fuck.

>>6102683

let's hope you start doing better.

# # # # # #

You have only one chance.
Sword versus poleaxe? You might as well holding a paper straw.
As you dash towards Master, towards his stone-still form, you know that there is only one way you can beat him.
Get close.
Bait the swing.
Hit the dominating hand.
Thrust through his now-broken defences.
It’s simple enough, in theory.
You have tried hundreds of times.

You thrust at his side, but that’s just to bait his swing. He’ll hit you with—
Master gently shifts his stance, the bottom of his poleaxe swings against your legs, trying to make you trip. You jump over it and—
He shifts again, bending around your bait swing, only to pivot on his left leg and start pushing the weapon’s shaft towards you.
It make sense. It’s quicker than using the weapon’s head.
Also, it gives you a chance to survive.
Delighted by the fact Master still prefers his favourite disciple in one piece, you pivot as well, outpacing his movement — using your momentum to dash past his elbow, your sword’s pommel aiming for his hand, almost touching it—

And then something hits your hand.

The poleaxe’s bottom. Again.
It’s sharp, lightning-quick and it leaves your hand dull. Your sword falls off your paralysed fingers.
He catches it.

“Ow,” you groan, rubbing your wrists, or trying to. It’s not easy with a hand that has lost almost all of it sensitivity.
Master bows and pulls back, holding up your sword for you to pick.

You do so, echoing his bow.

[cont.]
>>
>>6102696

When he pulls back, he reveals your three companions, and all of them look stunned.
“What did just happen?” Rubida asks. “I never saw you move so quick. How…”
“That was hot,” Salicera grins, a flush on her cheeks. “That was some serious hot stuff!”
“The Lion, then… you broke the stance and…” Soralisa tries to put the pieces together.

“Argia did the only thing she could,” Master explains, reaching out to you and rubbing your wrists, helping the blood flow. You pout. You know. You tried this hundreds of times. “When fighting against a poleaxe with a sword, you are out-reached and out-maneuvered. She dashed ahead, baited the strike…”

“… she wanted to hit his hand! The dominant hand that holds the weapon! This way she could break his guard and—” Soralisa gasps, putting the pieces together.

“—finish the job. That’s the theory,” you glance at the brunette.

“But that’s so risky! You could get your head shattered by the mallet!”

“Actually, by then the shaft and the counterweight is what’s the problem,” you explain, using your dazed finger to point at Master’s weapon. “The head is much harder to use in close space, because it’s so heavy, so you usually hit back with the shaft. It can break your arm or legs if you are not careful.” You sigh. “No wonder Kishirra used one of those.”

“The mallet and the blade are a problem if you keep your reach. And by then,” Master turns and swings at the air, producing a hiss that proceeds out into the rain, cutting into it like an invisible knife made of wind, “it has too much strength. It is a nasty weapon.”

“Tell me about it, Master,” you grumble, clenching your hand. You are finally getting the feeling back and you pick your sword back.
“But don’t underestimate Argia’s sword,” he adds. “You have seen how quick she is… especially on her feet.”

“Hm?”

“It was a compliment, stone-headed disciple.”

“Oh. Thanks Master.”

“Anytime. Speaking of which… please, once again. Lion. I’ll go easier on you.”

You comply, knowing he’s just being facetious. He never goes easier on you.

“And you three in the back, please pay attention. You may learn a thing or two.”

You clench your teeth. You and your big ideas…

[cont.]
>>
>>6102698

# # # # # #

You spend the next hour sparring with Master.
You are definitely a bit rusty, and your form needed some work. By the end of it you are sweaty, grumbling and covered in bruises, but Master’s eyes glint with satisfaction and pride.
And you feel like you have indeed learned a bit, as he corrected your stance and gave you precious insight on using such a sharp edge.

>Your bonus when using a longsword grows to +21!

Now, as Master eyes the other three, you know what’s coming.

“Ten more minutes for rest. Then I’d like to see another of you take my spot. Argia. Which one?”

You glance at Salicera and Rubida…

>Salicera. It's going to be hard... but you feel like you have learned a few new tricks.

>Rubida. She's roughly on par with you, and you need to get used to her fighting style again.

>Another combination of these two (You and Rubida against Salicera)

>Soralisa? Perhaps in a spelling battle...

Thanks for playing. rolls were kinda shit, but it's to be expected. at any rate, you got something out of your training with Master, especially when applied to your new weapon. Now we'll see how you deal with the others. On a related note, writing battle scenes is hard enough already, writing battle scenes with swordplay feels like getting my teeth pulled. But in the end it was fun, and that's what matters. Thank you for helping keep this quest fun, anon.
>>
>>6102700
>Rubida. She's roughly on par with you, and you need to get used to her fighting style again.
>>
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>>6102700
>>Rubida. She's roughly on par with you, and you need to get used to her fighting style again.
>>
>>6102700
>Rubida. She's roughly on par with you, and you need to get used to her fighting style again.
>>
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Rolled 31 + 29 (1d100 + 29)

>>6102642
Of course master rolls a 99. Let's hope I get that 4% crit.
>>6102652
I like fate Jeanne, but it's also a shame that she's in fate.
>>
>>6102700
>Rubida. She's roughly on par with you, and you need to get used to her fighting style again.
we haven't done much with her, let's change this.
>On a related note, writing battle scenes is hard enough already, writing battle scenes with swordplay feels like getting my teeth pulled.
wait, I thought swordplay would be something easy for you, considering you did other stories.
>>6102714
that's what I get for not updating the page
>>
>>6102700
>Salicera. It's going to be hard... but you feel like you have learned a few new tricks.
>>
>>6102700
>Rubida. She's roughly on par with you, and you need to get used to her fighting style again.
>>
>>6102702
>>6102707
>>6102711
>>6102729
>>6103157

Total Rubida victory…

>>6102747
… oh, almost.

Writing!
Nice to see support for the group’s alpha bitch, but then again… *flips hair* was there ever any doubt?
>>
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Rolled 6, 72, 56 + 18 = 152 (3d100 + 18)

>>6102700

“It’s been a long time,” you say turning to Rubida, who understands immediately. “Maybe we should check on each other’s progress.”

“Progress? What progress?” She scoffs, standing up and stretching. “Are you so confounded you think I may need progress like a country bumpkin who hasn’t learned to hold a sword until she was sixteen? We highborn have been trained in the art of combat from a tender age, I will let you know. No progress required on perfection.” She picks up her axe and stands to face you, assuming a defensive pose. “At the very least, I am glad I don’t have my old armour anymore. No risk nicking and ruining the steel finish this way,” she grins. “Watching you sparring has been impressive. If you win…” she licks her lips. Is she nervous?

About sparring with you, the silver-haired, cursed outsider?

“… that wine-tasting is on me.”

Oh.

“Well now I can’t lose,” you reply. Maybe Rubida is only showing off a bit. You think. One day you’ll know her enough to peer through her layers, but for now… for now you just have to let swords talk.

“Who are you betting on?” Salicera whispers to Soralisa, who looks at her with wide, scandalised eyes.
“Betting? That’s a barbaric practice better left to the heathens of Frigéia!”
“Soralisa is right,” Master agree. You’re glad he upholds doctrine with such clarity of purpose an— “But if, or rather, when, my pupil wins I’ll treat you to that sparring lesson you asked for, Madama Fors.”
“Really? Go Argia! Kick her aristocratic butt!”
“Master! You can’t use me as bait for your schemes!”
He shrugs.
Rubida scoffs.
“So that’s how it is!” She raises her beautiful head, giving you one of her piercing looks. She somehow manages to look taller than you. “Disrespect, plotting and treason! I shall wash such dirt in blood.”

“Uh… we are using actual weapons, Rubida…I’d rather”
“Oh, Starless Knight. Candente, learn to read the room!”
There’s nothing written anywhere… this is getting even more confusing.
Rubida rolls her eyes.
“You’re going to be the death of me, Candente. Just give me a salute and let’s start…”

This time, you begin with the Lynx. Rubida frowns — it seems she’s not really familiar with this form, but she raises her axe and seems to get ready to take the swing on you.

Let’s put Master’s lessons to the test.

>Combat Roll! Like before. Beat at least ONE of my rolls.
>dubs, trips etc apply
>you have a 97-100 Nat roll crit range
>good luck.
>>
>>6103187
>rolls a 6
Rubida, you ignorant SLUT
>>
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Rolled 40 + 29 (1d100 + 29)

>>6103187
Time to establish dominance over our bitchy hot friend.
>>
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>>6103191
>69

Heheheh.
>>
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Rolled 83 + 29 (1d100 + 29)

>>6103187
>>
Rolled 48 + 29 (1d100 + 29)

>>6103187
>>
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Total Rubi death, kek. Take that, soon to be literal prostitute!
>>
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>>6103191
>>6103203
>>6103208

>>6103216
>soon to be prostitute
it’s SACRED prostitute anon. it’s an important job with big perks which makes her a pillar of her community.

oh my my my. looks like Rubida won’t be able to weasel her way out of this one. Update in a bit, currently at work
>>
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>>6103232
Suuuuure. About as Sacred as Belle Delphine or Sasha Grey, kek. They are pillars of the coomer community too! Hahaha.
>>
Talk of sacred prostitutes make me miss Elf Maiden Quest
>>
>>6103243
Heresy anon, you’ll be sent to sacred prostitute re-education camp. Three of four months should do the trick.

Writing!
>>
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>>6103290
>being forcefully re-educated by Rubi and Sora for 16 hour a day

I can live with that. Just no crispy handies.
>>
>>6102636
>Rubida sneakily bites her lip, rubbing her thighs together as she turns to look at the two of you.
>You wonder what she’s so excited about.
>>6103187
>If you win…” she licks her lips. Is she nervous?
Rubida is letting her hidden slut out. Now I see some of her personality from that au fic.
>>6103191
>>6103203
>>6103208
we beat her on all 3 rolls, with a 69 to boot. nice.
>>6103298
>I can live with that. Just no crispy handies.
tf is a crispy handie ?
>>
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>>6103335
>tf is a crispy handie ?

Soralisa with her fucked up burnt hands jerking someone off.
>>
>>6103341
>Soralisa with her fucked up burnt hands
I knew what was a handie, just didn't understand the crispie part. ouch for the unlucky guy's head.
>>
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>>6103350
Maybe they are into it? Fire and burns and what not are part of the religion, after all. I am not, due to having worked in burn units and recalling the smell and appearance and screaming makes me a touch sick.

One of the worst things I have had the pleasure of seeing happen is a patient having their burns debrided, scrubbed off when it was most of their body burned. Painkillers can only do so much, and someone needed to help the nurse hold them down so the other person could scrub. We also had a literal fire in the burn unit once, which was both horrible and funny.
>>
>>6103335
Rubida may have hidden goals you suspect nothing about...

>>6103341
I didn't need to know that.

also, sorry for the belated update, I came down with a flu. turns out riding in the rain may not be the best idea after all?

writing...
>>
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>>6103187

If there’s one thing you have learned so far, is that Rubida does make good on her promises.
She rushes at you in a wide left swing which turns into a sharp thrust at the last second, banking on the weight of the axe and her own momentum to cleave through your defences.
To be fair, Rubida is not as tall as you, but she is well-built.
At another time, it could have worked.
“Hnf!” She huffs as you reposition yourself, your boots skimming on the wet ground, using the edge of your sword to catch her weapon. The head of the axe impacts with your blade in a shower of sparks as metal finds its match and more than its match in Maduan tetracerarmide.
Rubida pulls back, a shaky grin on her lips.

“Is that fair? For a country bumpkin like you to hold such a good blade?”
“I earned it,” you reply, raising it and changing your stance into that of the aggressive Lion.

You allowed her the honour of first strike.
Or maybe you were a bit too shaken by your training with Master.
As always, he’s leagues above you in everything. Skill, swiftness, experience and strength.
But Rubida is roughly on par with you.
Your turn.

Axes are a funny thing. They are great on the offence, and you also used to carry one. You certainly made use of it in the fight with the Malostromo tree.
But you know something.
They don’t offer much reach.
You thrust forward, your tetraceramide edge biting once again on Rubida’s metal. The head of the axe holds it for a moment, then she lets go, falling back and your strike goes wide, raking against the rock wall behind her.
Luckily, your weapon is not Master’s blindglass, so you don’t simply cleave through it like air, the sword’s edge still drawing a deep gash on stone, leaving behind a line of gravel and dust.

“Ack! Watch where you aim that thing, Candente!”

“I’m quite confident about my ability to aim,” you reply, this time going for her leg.

“This happened because I lost my equipment! This is not a fair fight!” She complains, leaning back at the last moment. Then, with a glint in her blue eyes, she rushes forward, the back of her axe raised to try and hit either your shoulder or your dominant hand.

Smart.
[cont.]
>>
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>>6103990
She’s trying to use the same trick you tried with Master.
And just like Master…
You skip to the right and hit Rubida’s stomach with the hilt of your sword.
She lets out a choked gasp as you catch her right in the sternum. Falling back, she grasps for something, falling on her knees, the axe forgotten as it clutters on the ground.

The rain comes back to fill the silence in the room. The first to speak is Master.
“I suppose this means I am going to be quite preoccupied with Madama Fors for the past hour.”
“For real?” Salicera’s brown and grey eyes shine as she balls her fists in victory. “I mean… sorry Rubida. That one look like it hurt.”
“Wasn’t my intention.” Sheathing your sword you help her stand up. “I’m sorry if I hurt you.”
“At least it wasn’t the sharp edge, Candente,” she groans, but there’s a hint of mirth in her voice as she stands up, holding onto her stomach. “But in a way, I’m happy. It means you are back, better than before. This is something… hnnfh, I may have a few bruised ribs. Something I can count on. Can count on you, Candente.”

“Oh no. I can petition for healing, let me…”

“I’ll do it,” Soralisa stands, reaching out to both of you. “I needed more practice anyway.”

You hesitate, but then you remember how you try to support her when she felt like she was being a burden. It’s clear she’s trying to find her footing.
It feels reassuring when you manage to understand people.
From time to time.

“Sure. Apologies for the hit.”

“I have earned it,” Rubida winces, or maybe grins, it’s hard to say. She lays on a blanket and Soralisa sits next to her, starting to murmur words and intercede for her healing. Rubida’s gorgeous face relaxes as she falls into an easy slumber under the brunette’s care.

As Master and Salicera finally start to discuss their starting position and goals for the sparring session, you feel like your attention is going to get split anyway.

>You watch Salicera and Master. The match is going to be too quick for you to learn much, but it’s going to be an interesting sight.

>You prefer to comfort Rubida, holding her hand while discussing with Soralisa. What does she know about Asterites, actually?

>You prefer to take a break and watch from afar, examining Carnaval’s gift.

>Then again, there might be something else to do [Write-In]


sorry for the somewhat shorter update, I really need my beauty sleep. Writing with a fever is not the best feeling in the world. See you soon, and thanks for playing... try to be a little gentler with poor Rubida next time. You wrecked her.
>>
>>6103994
>You watch Salicera and Master. The match is going to be too quick for you to learn much, but it’s going to be an interesting sight.
let's see how the isekailing fares

>spoiler
relax and take care, OP

>try to be a little gentler with poor Rubida next time. You wrecked her.
Next time it'll be on the bed
>>
>>6103994
>>You watch Salicera and Master. The match is going to be too quick for you to learn much, but it’s going to be an interesting sight.
>>
>>6103994
>You watch Salicera and Master. The match is going to be too quick for you to learn much, but it’s going to be an interesting sight.
Mmm, inderesting.
>>
>>6103994
>>You watch Salicera and Master. The match is going to be too quick for you to learn much, but it’s going to be an interesting sight.
>>
>>6103994
>>You watch Salicera and Master. The match is going to be too quick for you to learn much, but it’s going to be an interesting sight.
>>
>>6103994
>You watch Salicera and Master. The match is going to be too quick for you to learn much, but it’s going to be an interesting sight.
>>
>>6103994
>You watch Salicera and Master. The match is going to be too quick for you to learn much, but it’s going to be an interesting sight.
Try not to salivate, Argia.
>>
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Rolled 93, 74, 68 + 68 = 303 (3d100 + 68)

>>6104774
impossible task

feeling better, should be able to start updating in a bit. thanks for your patience and the votes.

>>6104034
>>6104041
>>6104060
>>6104065
>>6104418
>>6104604
>>6104774

everyone wants to see the match of the century, hm
>>
Rolled 88, 80, 16, 6, 25, 8 + 92 = 315 (6d100 + 92)

>>6105146

Okay, I can try to focus on writing for a while. Writing new update...
>>
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>>6103994

No matter how much you’d like to ask Soralisa for more info, you feel like that can wait. Holding onto slumbering Rubida’s hand for good measure, you focus on the two figures standing before each other. Salicera shows an excited grin on her face, even as her hands clench her sword nervously. You know she is going to give her best performance.

By contrast, Master is as placid and as calm as ever. At least outwardly. The light in his grey eyes seems to pierce Salicera from side to side, like an invisible spear cleaving her in two.

Your breath hitches in your throat, waiting for them to make a move. Maybe it will be Salicera the one to attack first. Will she try your same trick by attempting to hit Master’s exposed hand? Or will she just trust in her extreme speed and agility to try and pierce through his defences in a flash? Having spent three years with Master, you know that would never work… you have seen him move quicker than thought at times. Sometimes it looks like Master’s limbs do not move under his will but are under Ansàrra’s command, bound to her Will by invisible strings.

Salicera shifts back and forth, attempting to correct her posture. You notice the tiny changes in her stance, how she leans sometimes a bit further and sometimes backs away as she trades look with Master.

Behind you, Rubida silently opens one eye, watching them.

The silence stretches, for ten, twenty heartbeats, while the rain keeps falling undisturbed and reckless.

Then Salicera sighs and sheathes her sword, bowing to Master.

“I concede.”

[cont.]
>>
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Rolled 62, 7, 99 + 84 = 252 (3d100 + 84)

>>6105195

What?

You blink, then let go of Rubida’s hand and stand up, bewildered. Master chuckles beneath his beard.

“But you didn’t even fight! You didn’t even…”

“There is no need to,” Salicera opens her hands in defeat. “I tried and there is no way I can break his guard. Even if I do, he’s going to retaliate with such quickness and strength I’m going to spend the rest of the afternoon in la-la-land.”

“Madama Fors relies on a most peculiar expression,” Master adds. “But she is not wrong.”

“No, wait. Where is the sparring? I thought you wanted to spar?”
The brunette shrugs.

“We already did.”

“Your friend is a true sword master in the making. Perhaps in a few more years of training, but she has the talent for it, the intuition. I’m glad she’s on a journey with you.”
“W-Wait! I thought… I didn’t even… what did even happen?”

“Some people, like your teacher,” Salicera explains, “can see an entire fight go through in their minds. It’s like strategy players who can see how the entire game will play out based upon the first few opening moves.”

“So that’s why you kept adjusting your posture?”

“My opening moves, yes. I think we both agreed that it would have been a hopeless endeavour no matter what I tried, so I decided to throw it.”

“Ah. Well, that wasn’t very…”

Salicera looks at you and bites the inside of her mouth.

“… entertaining?”

“N-No, I wanted to say something else,” you try, blushing.

“You are a terrible liar,” she chuckles, then shifts her posture to face Master again. “I’m sorry about what I just said. I got a bit too cocky and disappointed Argia. I can’t do that. Would you mind do it again? Without…” Salicera licks her lips, suddenly nervous. “Going for the throat?”

“Oh, if this is about Argia then I will be first to apologise in tow.” He sets the blindglass poleaxe against the wall and holds his hand out. “Your sword, please?”

Ah, he’s talking to you. You quickly unsheathe it and hand it over. He receives it with a smile and tries it out, swinging it about.

“Hmm. Not bad. Not bad at all. Some very light imperfections in the manufacture, but nothing you should ever worry about,” he adds. Then he stands in front of Salicera, who is holding her own weapon out, giving you a grin, as if to say: ‘watch me!’.

“Sharp is the Dawn,” Master states.

“And relentless.”

>Combat Roll! I roll for Master, you roll for Salicera.

>Bo3, beat at least TWO out of my three rolls. 1d100+68, 1 roll per reply per anon.

I felt like giving you the steering wheel for this roll. Let's see how it goes.
>>
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Rolled 90 + 68 (1d100 + 68)

>>6105198
>>
>>6105203
>argiapic
>rolls a 90

Salicera calm your tits
>>
Rolled 13 + 68 (1d100 + 68)

>>6105198
>>
Rolled 89 + 68 (1d100 + 68)

>>6105208
I for one hope her tits maintain their present enthusiasm.

>>6105198
>>
>>6105198
>“Some people, like your teacher,” Salicera explains, “can see an entire fight go through in their minds. It’s like strategy players who can see how the entire game will play out based upon the first few opening moves.”
obligatory https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QOpjxhNMDoM
>>6105203
we finally beat a roll against master, thanks to Sally's bonus.
>>6105239
>>6105242
the 99 was a lost cause, but we didn't even beat the 7, lmao
>>
>>6105263
>A Game of Shadows
I adore that movie. Did Salicera canonically reference it while speaking about Master? Who knows.

>we beat a roll

you did. Salicera is... verymotivated. Overall you rolled very well. It's just that Master keeps spamming 99s even without using his ridiculous ability to roll 6d100.

>final results

my 146 vs your 158 (you Win)
my 91 vs your 81 (you Lose)
my 183 (critical), vs your 157 (you Lose)

writing.
>>
>>6105274
bratty stillàdia is making me wanna cuck her slime bf
>>
>>6105277
that's just a paid lookalike anon, too much bust. nice Sisters dubs tho

>>6105198

It’s evening again. The curtain of rain has lifted, leaving room for a clear night, brightened by stars and the silvery ring.
You lay on the grass, beneath a large tree, while Master is humming some old foreign sold to himself. Some kind of ballad in a heathen dialect you don’t want to force yourself to recognise. It’s going to be either a celebration of Ansàrra’s mercy and grace or a celebration of some tavern wench and her under-the-table skills.

Salicera comes to sit next to you, kneading her arm.
“How are you?”
“It’s fine,” she waves her hand and — winces. “Ow. Alright, maybe not properly fine. That last strike really broke through my defences.”
You still cannot get it. What ‘last strike’ is she talking about?
Salicera and Master’s sparring (more like a duel given how into it both of them were), had lasted just as long an heartbeat.
You remember Salicera dancing forward, Master… moving, Salicera’s sharp gasp of triumph, and then a clang of metal against metal, and Salicera falling back on her rump, holding her arm, her sword clattering against the ground, Master already helping her stand back up.

It was too quick for your eyes.

“Can we go over it again?”
“Sure,” she chuckles. “I don’t mind it. If it’s for you…”
The night air carries some queer heat to your cheeks, but you try to focus and listen to Salicera…

“I was the first to strike. I went for his other hand, not the dominant one, because that was the only way I could have an advantage.”
“Oh, I see,” you point out, eager to show you start to get it. “You aimed for his other hand so that Master wouldn’t expect it!”
Salicera quirks one of her eyebrows.
“Eh? No, of course he did expect it.”
Oh.
“We both knew what was going to happen, but I did try it anyway. And with that first strike… I thought I could have a chance.”

[cont.]
>>
>>6105291

Salicera charges, lunging with her whole body, using all of her enhanced strength and her years of experience to thrust to her right, towards Ibardo Delebasse’s other hand, and as their swords clash and a shower of sparks cries between steel and the white bite of tetraceramide, she twists her wrist— Master Delebasse’s shoulder is right there to catch her, but he’s a smidge too slow, a smidge too kind — and she strikes with her pommel against his hand, she feels the hit ricochet through her wrist and she lets out a surprised gasp of victory. Maybe she can—

“So, I think I get it now. You hit his wrist… even just that is simply incredible,” you mutter, checking out Master’s hand. One of them shows a small bruise. He has refused or not asked for any treatment, leaving it alone. Is it pride? Or maybe he just wants to show Salicera she is that good…?

“I was the one most surprised.” She scratches her head. “I thought he’d overpower me.”


— can use this to get an advantage but as she tries to, Salicera finds out she has definitely overreached, and she can’t put enough strength into her segue. Master Delebasse is also hesitating a moment. Did he not expect to be actually hit? But even like this, even his comparably weaker pull is enough to make her stumble, almost lose her grip on her sword, and that’s it, she pivots on her back leg and swings, aiming for his arm. She has one chance. Just one chance…

“And didn’t he? Right at the end. If that was an end. It looked like one single fluid strike to me.”

Salicera gives you another of those looks. Her cheeks grow a little darker under the light of the ring.

“It may as well have been.”

[cont.]
>>
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>>6105294

… and that chance slips out of her reach as Master Delebasse puts all his might into his final swing, using it to tilt her weapon to the right, forcing it so hard even her strong fingers have trouble keeping their grip, and the blade once more comes alight with sparkles — she tries to hold on, but the strength of the swing overpowers her, catches her like flotsam in a flood, and her sword arches behind her and clangs against the wall, and she’s falling on her bum as the ground comes to welcome her.

“There was never any chance,” Salicera grunts. “I’m not skilled enough. In fact, I was even surprised by the fact he humoured me. I kept pestering him for days…”

“It was incredible!” You exclaim. “Brilliant! I have seldom seen Master having to actually try in a fight.”

“Heh. Hope he doesn’t try too hard, my shoulder is still sore. I thought the strike pulled it out of its socket for a moment.”

“It was… just some of the best entertainment I have ever watched,” you admit, biting your lip and feeling very foolish.

Salicera grins.


>At this point, it’s almost night. How long is Master going to accompany you anyway? You should try to have one final heart to heart before he leaves…

>Salicera is right there. Time to try and have that infamous conversation. Or at least ask her to.

>You invite all the girls together to properly discuss your strategy from now on, after you have checked on each other’s progress.

>And also, there might be something else… [Write In/Add a suggestion]


thanks for playing. nice update to write, I had fun!
>>
>>6105298
>>Salicera is right there. Time to try and have that infamous conversation. Or at least ask her to.
>>
>>6105298
>Salicera is right there. Time to try and have that infamous conversation. Or at least ask her to.
I think the only chance Sally had of winning was with a triple beat and maybe that'd not be enough
>>
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>>6105298
>>At this point, it’s almost night. How long is Master going to accompany you anyway? You should try to have one final heart to heart before he leaves…
>>
>>6105298
>Salicera is right there. Time to try and have that infamous conversation. Or at least ask her to.
And apologize profusely for getting too drunk last night. Offer to make it up to her.
>>
>>6105298
>Salicera is right there. Time to try and have that infamous conversation. Or at least ask her to.
>>
>>6105298
>>You invite all the girls together to properly discuss your strategy from now on, after you have checked on each other’s progress.
>>
>>6105298
>Salicera is right there. Time to try and have that infamous conversation. Or at least ask her to.
>>
Voting is in favour of speaking to Salicera. Writing update
>>
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>>6105298

You bite your lip, watching Salicera and the way the light plays with her hair. In a flash of memory you feel her lips lightly pressing against your own once more. The moment you shared… was it just a moment after all?

“I am sorry for last night,” you whisper.
There. It’s out. It feels like someone just pried a poisonous knife out of your guts.
You can breathe again.
“I should have come back sooner, but I had to speak to Master about Carnaval, and the mission, and then we started drinking and…”
“So you do drink,” she says.
“U-Uh, yes, but not wine! Just some spirits.”
“So that explains why you were so out of it.”
“Perhaps…” you coil a strand of your hair around your fingers. “Anyway, if you want to speak, I’ll listen. About that thing you wanted to—”
She reaches out, setting her finger against your lips once again.
“Not yet. I have my reasons. Let’s talk before we embark on the new mission, though.”
“Oh. I hope it’s not… I hope I did not… I’m just…” why is it so hard to find the right words? Sometimes you just fall back into being an absolute idiot who can’t speak, not even spell correctly.
“I just need a bit of time,” she adds, running a hand through her hair. “It’s something for your ears only. And after that…”
“After that?”
She turns on her side, looking at you with a grin.
“You can give me another sparring match.”


[cont.]
>>
>>6106324

# # # # # #


The night always feels a little sharper in the Treviri Throne.
The stars just a bit closer.
She stands there on the balcony, the precious coat of silk and sapphire, fabric embedded with ancient words and rhymes in Kiengir dialects draped over her shoulders.
“How many?” She asks the portly man next to her. He seems unfazed by her partial nudity.
“Thirty eight at a first count, Magistra. All of them grateful to attend this journey.”
“And we did not spend a copper,” she grins, leaning forward on the marble rail, letting her jade eyes take in the gardens and the well-kept hedges and tinkling fountains of her manor. “All of them so eager to just visit the Holy Land. Truly words are worth more than their weight in gold, and hope is the thinnest and strongest of knots.” She nods. “Thirty eight mariners working for free, just for a chance to catch the wind off Madua… that is a better figure than I expected. You will partake in the savings, Gerardo, of course. When I come back.”
“Honoured to bring prosperity to your demesne, Magistra.”
“Very well. I will keep to myself now. Knowledge is Night.”
“Knowledge is Night,” he replies, bowing deeply to her and withdrawing to the servants’ quarters.
She remains alone, pulling her coat tighter over her shoulder, watching the stars dancing. Both kind of stars, the slow and the quick.
She pulls out a vial filled to the brim with ink and pours it out on the balcony, then, moving her hands like a spider she starts to weave a tangled figure out of the ink, the liquid moving as if by itself, or perhaps led by the two fingers on her right hand, painted black, or by the large scars on the back of her hands… an observer would have a hard time understanding. The Asterites’ secrets run deeper than their skin.
The entangled weave twists upon itself in a geometric embroidery. Her jade eyes keep looking at it for a few long breaths, its liquid surface glistening silver under the planetary ring.
Then she sighs, her hands fall back and the liquid flushes inside the vial once more.
Divination is beyond her.
It’s fine like this. The embroidery of stars is unconcerned with someone as unimportant as her.
“I’ll make do,” she mumbles, trying to comfort herself. Just another mission, even if she is far from keen on babysitting this quartet of Maduan whores.
She turns and walks inside, her coat following her like a shadow.
Tomorrow Marsevero awaits her. Saying goodbye to her students.
To Arda, especially.
And then…
“… the Sea, again”, she murmurs to herself.

[cont.]
>>
>>6106325

# # # # # #


Master is going to leave in two days.
The road will bring him to the core of Madua, to the forbidden parts of the land where you cannot walk. You and your group will instead continue to ride to the south and to the west, towards the shore and the Mar di Salina, where the white pearly beaches lead way to the storms and waves.
Gripping on your reins as you keep riding, you wonder what you can do to squeeze everything you can out of the next forty eight hours, before he disappears and you will have exchange the horse’s reins for the reins of command.
Your manipolo looking up to you.
You will need to be ready, and to use your time wisely.

At least you know that, after this, you can look forward to having that conversation with Salicera… and perhaps something more.


Choose two:

>A. Train with Master and Salicera. You know the success of this mission depends on you and the more you hone your skills the better [Gain a bonus to your combat rolls]

>B. Carnaval’s gift… what can it be used for? You’ll need to pester Master for answers. He’ll know what to tell you, after all he seems to know her… [Gain insight on what Carnaval’s ‘feather’ is]

>C. You are going in the Treviri Throne. What else can Master and Soralisa tell you about this? You need to be prepared. [Gain insight on how to deal with Asterites]

>D. You are expected to lead an entire group, but the only leadership you’ll need is that of Ansàrra. How does Master do it? [Gain insight on Sanctions]

thanks for playing. Sorry for the somewhat irregular updates. I feel better but today was also very busy. On the upside, I managed to meet with some Chinese friends on mine and they were delighted to know that I got the inspiration for the molten spring celebration from a Chinese tradition. So there’s that. See you soon.
>>
>>6106327
>A. Train with Master and Salicera. You know the success of this mission depends on you and the more you hone your skills the better [Gain a bonus to your combat rolls]
>C. You are going in the Treviri Throne. What else can Master and Soralisa tell you about this? You need to be prepared. [Gain insight on how to deal with Asterites]
>>
>>6106327
>B. Carnaval’s gift… what can it be used for? You’ll need to pester Master for answers. He’ll know what to tell you, after all he seems to know her… [Gain insight on what Carnaval’s ‘feather’ is]
>C. You are going in the Treviri Throne. What else can Master and Soralisa tell you about this? You need to be prepared. [Gain insight on how to deal with Asterites]
gotta know what our new boon will do and our enemies
>>
>>6106327
>>B. Carnaval’s gift… what can it be used for? You’ll need to pester Master for answers. He’ll know what to tell you, after all he seems to know her… [Gain insight on what Carnaval’s ‘feather’ is]
>
>>C. You are going in the Treviri Throne. What else can Master and Soralisa tell you about this? You need to be prepared. [Gain insight on how to deal with Asterites]
>>
>>6106327
>B. Carnaval’s gift… what can it be used for? You’ll need to pester Master for answers. He’ll know what to tell you, after all he seems to know her… [Gain insight on what Carnaval’s ‘feather’ is]
>C. You are going in the Treviri Throne. What else can Master and Soralisa tell you about this? You need to be prepared. [Gain insight on how to deal with Asterites]
>>
>>6106327
>A. Train with Master and Salicera. You know the success of this mission depends on you and the more you hone your skills the better [Gain a bonus to your combat rolls]

>B. Carnaval’s gift… what can it be used for? You’ll need to pester Master for answers. He’ll know what to tell you, after all he seems to know her… [Gain insight on what Carnaval’s ‘feather’ is
>>
>>6106327
>A. Train with Master and Salicera. You know the success of this mission depends on you and the more you hone your skills the better [Gain a bonus to your combat rolls]
>C. You are going in the Treviri Throne. What else can Master and Soralisa tell you about this? You need to be prepared. [Gain insight on how to deal with Asterites]
>>
>>6106327
>B. Carnaval’s gift… what can it be used for? You’ll need to pester Master for answers. He’ll know what to tell you, after all he seems to know her… [Gain insight on what Carnaval’s ‘feather’ is]

>C. You are going in the Treviri Throne. What else can Master and Soralisa tell you about this? You need to be prepared. [Gain insight on how to deal with Asterites]
>>
>>6106337
A+C
>>6106412
B+C
>>6106418
B+C
>>6106485
B+C
>>6106508
A+B
>>6106608
A+C
>>6106628
(thanks for being here even as a busy QM senpai)
B+C

final tally
3A
5B
6C
0D (my poor faith/str build...)

>winners:
B+C options

writing
>>
>>6106899
Its a good quest. I like the characters and setting even if I was not expecting it to be Isekai land and I loath that genera with 2 or 3 exceptions.
>>
>>6106899
>>6106904

Also if that is all it takes to make a Maduan bish not retarded and hate the state and its corporate cronies, I need to get me one since I brew my own beer or fruit wines on occasion. Now I would just need to know her opinions on certain races...
>>
>>6106904
Harry Potter is sort of isekai, what with the portal and the mundane loser leaving out world for a magical one where he's the super special chosen one.

>>6106906
>certain races...
This is how you got the ban, isn't it?

>>6106899
C would have been my back-up choicr anyway. This works out well! We've got Sally's sword skills anyway.
>>
>>6106904
>isekaishit

oh, I absolutely share your sentiments, anon. One of the reasons I wanted to explore it through this quest is because I wanted to write something different from the usual wish fulfilment, as seen through the eyes of 'natives', so to say. so , yeah, that may be the reason, or at least one of the reasons, why Salicera is both so OP and so self-focused, it's le critique of the average FemMC in isekai. Can you show her the light? That remains to be seen...

>that pic

cute! younger Rubida checking out the family's hand-me-downs? so full of hope, so full of smiles, before the Seven Sisters happened.


>>6106906
>brewing my own beer or fruit wines

based beyond compare
>>
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>>6106327

The next couple days pass in a flash, even as you try to hold onto every instant. Master’s presence is so reassuring, as you ride through the golden fields of Madua, with its lazy rounded hills and peaceful people. You make sure to hold onto your hood at every moment, shying away from curious looks — but every time your group interacts with farmer and travellers, Master catches all the attention, and Rubida always (and with nary a word) positions her horse so that she hides you and your hair.

You two share a few smiles over the course of these blissful hours.

Yet, with every mile bringing you closer to your destination, your worries about what’s next keep mounting up.

You really need to ask further questions to Master, but the next evening, when your group is taking a break in a devotee’s shelter on the roadside, you can’t find him anywhere.
It’s a terse sunset, and as the light gets lower and lower you’ll probably miss your chance, so you try to do your best monitoring your surroundings.

The only thing that catches your attention is a series of low, rhythmic thuds coming from a secluded room, followed by… is that groaning? It sounds like Rubida’s voice.

Worried, you knock on the door. Maybe she got something inside her that upset her stomach.
Rubida’s voice raises in a squeal from inside, then silence, then—

“Rubida? Are you in there?”

[cont.]
>>
>>6106922

“Y-Yes,” she replies, seemingly out of breath. You are starting to worry. “I just… I needed to take a moment to myself. Is this important?” Her voice sounds weirdly stretched, throaty. Maybe it’s the changing weather.

“Are you alright? You sound strange. Do you want me to go call Soralisa an—”

“No! I’m fine, perfectly, fi-ii-neh,” she groans, her voice knotting into a gasp as the weird sounds suddenly pick up again. “Hmmfh, just needed a moment… is this… can you plee-eeah!-ease come back… laterrr?”

You blink, a bit confused about what all this is about. Perhaps you are getting a bit too used about friendly, helpful Rubida and this is just a bad moment.

“I just wanted to check on Master, I have some questions for him. Have you seen him?”

“N-No, no ideAH,” she squeals, and maybe she slips from inside her room, because you hear Rubida hitting the wall with her fists.
“Are you sure you are doing fine inside there?”

“E-Everything is fine innn-side,” she replies. “Please, A-Ah-AHrrgia,” she pants. “Just… come back in a bit. I-I think I’ll be fine in a f-few… minutes…”

“Sure. Sorry if I caused you trouble.”

“N-No trouble at alll—” she gasps, and you decide to just leave Rubida to her own devices. Perhaps you’ll find Master taking a swig in some other room of the shelter.

At any rate, you feel a bit better knowing you managed to have a friendly interaction with Rubida and understand her needs perfectly.


[cont.]

let's all be proud of our silver-haired doofus. she's making progress!
>>
>>6106923

You allow yourself a smile as you check for Master in the empty rooms, but there is no sign of him anywhere. You end up taking a moment to yourself in the small chapel to the side, lighting a candle to Saint Kishirra.

Luckily, a few minutes later he walks in, with Rubida and Soralisa in tow. Rubida looks refreshed, running a hand through her hair, her cheeks flushed. Soralisa is looking at her feet, seemingly embarrassed, and Master is his usual carefree self.

“Someone told me you wanted to talk?” He says, sitting next to you, with Soralisa doing the same on the other side. Rubida sits behind you instead, checking the candles.

“Yes, Master. I was a bit worried about—” you hesitate. Master smells a bit… weird.
You blink.
Better not to know.
Better not to think.
Thinking is not even required to qualify as a good Knight.
So you don’t.

“About the Asterites,” you continue. Just focus on your question. Nothing else. “I have heard rumours and whispers about them over time, but I wanted to know what we can expect. And what makes them so dangerous.”

“It’s not exactly what they can do,” Master tilts his head, looking at Soralisa, who seems to gather her wits and quickly intervenes:
“Y-Yes, it’s what acts through them.”

“Like… Echorists?” You try. Memories of your childhood sift through your mind. The arcane practitioners in their secluded island, the awesome forces they could channel through their bound souls…

“No,” Master shakes his head. “Asterites play with forces much more powerful than lost Kiengir souls. And as such, when those forces turn on them…”

“… it makes it a worse problem for everyone else,” Soralisa sighs.

You nod, eager and terrified to know more.

And was this supposed to be an ‘easy’ mission? Carnaval’s feather seems to pulsate against your chest as you listen to Soralisa…


[cont.]

as it turns out, Carnaval's judgement may be a tad faulty. I'm sure our girls will be fine. The rest of the update is still going to happen, but I'm literally falling asleep as I write, so I will continue as soon as I can. sorry but work is being a bitch again. hopefully for the last time in a long while. thanks for playing and please look forward to some body horror next. just the most wholesome fun in this quest... cute girls doing cute things, that's the shit
>>
Not a fan of Master railing Argia's friend.
>>
>>6106932
Yeah he should be railing her instead
>>
>>6106932
Yeah... me neither. Granted, she is going to be a literal whore, so we better get used to her being fucked by old men... Personally, I think Rubi is only for 3-somes with Argia and Sora.

>>6106920
Yeah. I was trying for either her or Soralisa a few days ago but none of the Sora ones turned out very good.

>>6106916
If we want to be reductionist enough, almost everything that follows Campbell's hero's journey or of the Fools journey could loosely be considered Isekai I suppose. And besides, being the chosen one to some degree is important; no one wants to read about random Hufflepuff #3 spending 7 years keeping their head down then going on to a boring Govt. job and having 2.1 children. Well... I mean SOL is kind of like that and is driven by people just liking the characters, I suppose.

The greatest work of modern fantasy could almost be considered "isekai". Frodo gets found by the call, leaves the "normal" world, has adventures in magical lands, is "chosen" to carry the Ring which makes him the most important person in Middle Earth, ect.

Hell my own shitty quest uses some of the formula given the characters are going to a new world, not by choice but by circumstance almost like being hit by truck-kun, and the MC just received the Call which marks her as important. Not overpowered but important, probably, based on what players choose in the future. Or maybe I am just overthinking story structure after a glass of wine.

>This is how you got the ban, isn't it?

I literally have no clue how I got it. None of my posts were deleted, I was being nice. No racial slurs, nothing.
>>
>>6106943
Argia is for Sally. In the absence of she, Rubi, and Sora, Master would have been a good fallback, but he probably would break our heart.

>>6106949
I meant HP is isekai in the sense that isekai is about going to 'another world' it's what isekai means where (you), a lame dweeb from our world, are secretly super talented and important. LotR doesn't qualify, nor do many 'standard' fantasies, because the character is just exists in that world and follows a hero's journey rather than being transpoeted from the real world TO that world through a portal or by a truck or whatever.
>>
>>6106923
damn, master, our friend of all people ? at least wait for us to go our own way
>>6106924
>Luckily, a few minutes later he walks in, with Rubida and Soralisa in tow. Rubida looks refreshed, running a hand through her hair, her cheeks flushed. Soralisa is looking at her feet, seemingly embarrassed, and Master is his usual carefree self.
and Sol probably opened the door, didn't she ?
>>6106932
same
>>6106949
there's a difference from random men and our master doing it while we're close, even if I get him.

>Well... I mean SOL is kind of like that and is driven by people just liking the characters, I suppose.
what's sol ?
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>>6106960
Or we can find a proper boytoy of our own
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>>6106961
Slice of Life.

Stuff like K-on which just follows some chicks having a music club and band; no stakes no massive character change or growth, no grand destiny. They hang out, have character interaction then graduate.

Lucky Star is literally just the lives of some school girls over the course of their last year in HS and really the only thing driving it is the cuteness of the characters and their interaction with one another.

Contrast this with a more story based "story" where the success of the MC and others is important in some way to the world at large.

>>6106960
Nah, I want Rubi's bitchy HS energy to be directed at Argia's privates or Sora being a cute with a relationship with us.
>>
>>6106975
Putting her hair up? Oh my! My body is ready, but is my heart??

>>6106977
Rubi is plainly bi, and a little slutty. I don't think she will ever be 'only' for Argia, even ignoring her religious duties as a temple prostitute. Could probably finagle a threesome with her and Master, if we were so inclined, but I don't think it seems IC for Argia and I don’t think Master sees us that way.
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>>6106992
Eh, I don't really get off on our naive silver haired girl getting fucked by someone old enough to be her grand-father. Perhaps he even is given we are the only disciple he has ever taken?

I am sure Agria probably wants to get married and have kids some day, given the setting but having a "friendly" relationship with some of her first friends? Practicing some? Having Rubi show how she accepts and grown to be fond of her? Sora letting Argia know that even if something came between them for a while she still cares about her? Hot. Love it. Even if it doesn't happen in game I might write something as a fanfic like that.

Maybe I should go retire to the yuri board for a while before writing my own gey-ish stuff.
>>
>>6106992
>Rubi is plainly bi
in the omake perhaps, but not yet in canon
>>
>>6107053
Maduan lady knights apparently have a 'reputation'. I guess there's only one way to know for sure, though.
>>
>>6107053
Can't help but wonder know. Do they have male sacred prostitues> And yeah Rubi is 100% bicurious. Soralisa is kind of up in the air since we haven't interacted so much with her but is clearly okay taking dick. Sally is probably just gay for Argia since she found someone that is intersting, could become a non-NPC in her mind.

Stilly will do whatever for souls and lecture you on anarcho-capitalism, the stock market, Max Stirner then try and sell you StilladiaCoin after seggs though; her husband will try and kill you after, however. Worth it.
>>
>>6106923
Why does this evoke the feeling of being cucked?
Unbelievable.
Master and Rubidia couldn't keep it together for a few days to see us off without tainting our image of them.
At least do that kind of stuff when your student and friend isn't in the vicinity.
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>>6107130
Yeah... slightly disconcerting and weird to be honest. Hopefully Rubi doesn't get knocked up, kek. I like the almost walking in on a friend doing sex stuff trope but not when it is with an old man who the MC is supposed to respect as a mentor, maybe even close to a father figure. Apparently the dude can get all the pussy he wants but he really had to fuck our friend?
>>
>>6107130
>Why does this evoke the feeling of being cucked?
it fits the extended definition, like those doujins of a mom fucking your bully or the girl you like, but aren't dating, seeing someone else
>>6107138
>Yeah... slightly disconcerting and weird to be honest.
same, but tbf it has been established that people are pretty liberal about sex here, minus fooling around too much and cucking, so I can see why Master was ok with doing it.
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>>6107075
>Max Stirner
Holy shit, Stilladia is based?

>>6107157
Hasn't it already been implied that Argia has walked in on him and village girls a few times, and is just sort of actively not thinking about it?
>>
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>>6107174
>someone esle on the Maduan carpentry fourm dedicated to writing fun letters about fictional characters knows about Stirn-y boy

Site that keeps giving.


This game has made me want to go to Treviri, invest in StillyCoin, make my fortune, find a cute Maduan girl, use my money to buy a farmstead on the coast. Raise chickens and goats. Have a small field and orchard, as well as a couple of boats to fish and crab with. Hire locals to help; become part of the community as a pillar, as me and the light haired wifey make a dozen kiddos. Become a pillar of the region, help out when we can; maybe have her start up a day school for our kids and other's in the region. Make some beer and wine to sell on the side. Have a small shrine to Stilladia hidden in the root cellar, since StillyCoin is what let us buy our farmstead and such.
>>
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>wakes up to 20+ replies

Maybe I should just pivot to publishing infidelity romance

>>6106932
I tried to show over the past updates how Rubida was kinda down with it, but maybe I should have been a bit more explicit, kek. Thanks for feedback anyway

>>6106943
Not gonna happen

>>6106949
>turned out not so good
I should be the judge of that, anon

>isekai discussion

I don’t know, the specifics of the ‘other world’ is in the modern sense either reincarnation or ‘soul theft’ to a different place. SAO, which afaik was the one that truly exploded its popularity in the West, was not a proper isekai in this sense, being VR, but it’s an interesting concept.

I consider isekai to focus on this specific idea/trope of the different world, so there must be some kind of shift and transportation. If a character is merely leaving their familiar world behind that’s not isekai, even if many stories start with a change of scenery, but that’s just mirroring life. Isekai can also be done well, and as a tool to explore certain themes.

>no one wants to read about random hufflepuff
You’d be surprised.

>overthinking story structure

Hah, maybe but it’s a fun conversation
>>
>>6106960

>LotR doesn’t qualify as isekai
I agree. Neither does HP, strictly speaking, it’s still set in our world. If Hogwarts was set in a completely different dimension then yea, but they are still anchored to historical events such as WWII and mythical figures such as Merlin

>>6106961
>there’s a difference from random men and Master
Yep, I absolutely think so. Also, Ibardo may be pushing 120 by our standards, but he’s more middle-aged than anything by Maduan chronology. Remember than people in the Holy Land live about twice as long
>>
>>6106992
>Master does not see us that way

You are practically his daughteru, he really does not see you that way

>>6107008

>only disciple ever taken
No, first disciple in twenty years. There have been others before.

>Rubida/Soralisa/Argia poly on the side

Kek. Don’t give me ideas anon
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>>6107075
>Salicera is probably just gay for Argia
Yeah, probably

>The Stilladìa will lecture you on AnCapistan
Hot. Reminder she’s married and single-target sexuality tho

>>6107174
>walked on him railing farm girls
Yep. Happened a few times, and it happened to Carnaval as well in the first thread

>>6107210

>this game pushing the ruralpill
I can now retire as a successful man.


>spoiler
Kek, I suppose the Stilladìa would be delighted by your little secret shrine, anon and perhaps Ansàrra would allow it?
>>
>>6107285
>Hot. Reminder she’s married and single-target sexuality tho

I will now take up the sword and kill her weird slime-thing husband, and then do some hentai brainwashing stuff on Stilly to make her mine. We can call Engels and Marx boy lovers together while we diversify our portfolios and vote in our local elections.
>>
>>6107295
You want to marry Stilladia and take an economics class. I want to impregnate Stilladia, Ansarra, and all Six remaining sisters to remind them all nothing is stronger than the soul of Man and THEN turn them all into loving housewives. We are not the same.
>>
>>6107309
The big goal is to manifest all the sisters in human forms, and fuck them stupid then put children in them, make them love said kids and demanifest as evil gods and be good mothers even if the kids will probably need some therapy to not be evil god-lings.

Stilly can babysit.
>>
>>6107323
I never said anything about human forms.
>>
>>6107275
>I tried to show over the past updates how Rubida was kinda down with it, but maybe I should have been a bit more explicit, kek.
We all saw that, the problem was master being down to plap her so soon
>>
>>6106924

This was supposed to be a simple day, just needed to get ready for departure, she thinks as she walks through the austere corridors of the academia, caring little about the students and staff giving her a wide berth. She has put on her travel clothing already, exposing her strong shoulders, but people quickly react to her presence, bowing right and left, even if she’s not wearing her teacher robes.
“Off to a bad start,” she grumbles, turning right on the second flight of stairs until she enters the infirmary. The sterile room is covered in drab drapes filtering the sunlight as other Asterites walk back and forth between the beds, so many of them filled with wounded and groaning bodies.

A group of tall Frigéian physicians in their black robes surround a solitary bed where a red-haired girl lays, her naked body held in chains and leather straps. Thin tubes spread from her pale body, dripping blood into vials. One of the physicians, his face hidden by the veils of their outfit, picks it up with his gloved hands and looks at the crimson contents.

She frowns. That’s not the way to handle one of her students.

“Thank you for providing it,” she intrudes in the group like a slim cat scattering a murder of crows. “I will be taking that.” She catches it from his grasp, and the physician does not protest, maybe restrained by the flash of scorn in her jade green eyes.

[cont.]
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(forgot the pic, the replies starts from the post above)

>>6107593

“Teach—” groans the girl on the bed.
“Arda.” She reaches out for her hand.
“Tch. And it was such a perfect day. Now… now I have to deal with you as well,” the redhead adds.
“Not for long, rest assured… I am going to leave on a journey soon. Stars have blessed you again.”
“Blessed alright, teach.”
The blonde woman turns her gaze towards the other bodies. Some of them are displaying only light signs of mutation, their skin rippling like murky water, teeth falling out of their mouths, losing hair… but they wouldn’t keep those affected the worst here in the infirmary anyway. Arda’s gift can only do so much. “Try to get some rest.”

The teacher turns away from the bed and the redhead lets out a pained sigh.
Holding the vial of blood in her hands, she gets out of the infirmary, walking downstairs, where most people are gathering anyway. Students and full-fledged Asterites alike. Like before, they part before her, leaving stunned gazes in her wake.

The corridor leading to one of the inner orchards has been quarantined already. A group of Asterites whispers holding their hands out towards the entrance, surrounded by other staff.

“Ah. You have came,” says a portly man dressed in a white coat, a worried look upon his face.
“As soon as I could. How is the situation?” A desperate question with a banal, tragic answer. She can see it in the crowd, in the quarantine, in the display surrounding her.
“It’s almost over anyway.”
“Starless Night,” she curses, and the crowd whispers at her use of the Maduan expression. She does not care.
“Sandora,” the man says, reaching out gently to brush his hand against her arm. At any other time, nobody would call her with her given name. Not at the Academia. Here she is Eleventh Seat, Sandora Mirari, Magistra of Marsevero Academia. “There is no need to go in.”
Her eyes focus on the door leading to the orchard. The wood is shifting, turning into stone, then scales, then gums. Then it starts dripping black ooze.

“I’m his teacher,” she states. “Just call the Crows, please.”

[cont.]
>>
>>6107594

# # # # # #


Master crouches next to you, picking up a candle and starting to drip hot wax on the floor as Rubida and Soralisa watch him intently.

“Not all Stars are evil,” he begins. “The Seven Sisters are made of different cloth. Sometimes, though, people are born with a gift that is a curse. The energies of the upper spheres grind inside their bodies, like a storm upon the shore, leaving pale marks on the back of their hands. We call those Asterites, because they are borne of the Stars as well.”

Soralisa nods, while Rubida frowns. It’s clear she does not like the subject, and you can agree. It sounds ominous.

Master sets his finger against the largest drop of wax and begins to smear it on the wooden floor, tracing circles.

“Yet they have often been an instrument of destruction,” Rubida points out. “We have been at war with Asterites before. And they have been at war with themselves… spoiling and rotting their own country from the inside.”

“That much is true,” Master agrees. “They play with fire, but we don’t call fire evil. May I go on?”

Rubida’s cheeks flush and she nods, turning her face away. You notice her hand reaching for her right arm, rubbing it.

“Asterites hold this power inside themselves,” Master continues. “Like Echorists from Argia’s homeland. But an Echorist who loses control over their Echo is a threat mostly to their own psyche. And the decay can be slow enough for others to wise up to it. Asterites… they are caught in this grinding, grinding, grinding. Every day of every year their soul rots from the inside, overrun by forces too strong and foreign for tendons and flesh. As Rubida said, they do rot from the inside. Sometimes, the rot bursts out all of a sudden.”

“But then how do…” you ask. Soralisa is the one who intercepts your question.

[cont.]
>>
>>6107596

“There are ways. Most are merely palliatives, but the Silt from the Borderlands can hold this decay back. For a while at least. But if they run out…” she purses her lips. “It is not pretty. I have seen engravings… it’s like an illness that spreads from flesh and bone to wood and stone. The very air vibrates with sickness. It twists everything and anything.”

You shudder at the ideas Soralisa is bringing up, while Master keeps drawing with the wax on the floor.

The door creaks open as Salicera also comes in, taking her seat next to you. She gives you a smile.
“Sorry. Was asleep. You were talking about the mission?”

“Yes. Asterites.”

Salicera nods and listens intently like the rest of you. Master continues.

“Of course, the older an Asterite gets, the more powerful they become. But the ancient and powerful members have a steady supply of Silt, and they are watched over constantly by Crows. While the young and eager, especially the students…” it’s his turn to frown. “Sometimes it’s just a stroke of bad luck. As Soralisa said… it is not pretty.”

“It’s a stain,” Rubida hisses. “A stain.”

[cont.]
>>
>>6107599

# # # # # #


Sandora shivers when the Crows surround her. Like always, she has not heard them come. She did not even feel them.
One moment she’s alone in front of the door, and the next three women clothed in black, their faces covered by a silver mask.
The students gasp and they steps back, trembling away from the trio of assassins.
Sandora inwardly shakes her head. Most of the students believe they’ll only get their own Crow assigned to them upon graduation, but they have been under their vigil, blind gaze ever since they were borne under the Stars.

The Crows do not speak.

It would be a problem if they did.
Sandora steps towards the door, and on cue a couple of servants pick up a large glass screen, putting it front of them. The Crows do not seem to care.
She reaches for the door, raises a hand — the ink from her vials spreads out and slithers through the air, pushing the doors open.

It’s the smell. It’s always the smell that makes her retch.
Sandora winces, fighting against the need to gag as the reek invades her nose, burning and far too sweet.

The orchard is not there anymore. Instead, a thing wriggles and writhes inside, bathed in the golden light of morning. A rippling mass of damp earth shifting and running into blackened flesh, of blood rising in tall arches like rubies, of teeth dancing on steel beads, of surgical instruments flowing in and out of shape like mercury. A mystical rose, each soft petal of pulled skin pumping in agony.

“Roberto,” Sandora wheezes. The Crows fan out, covering the perimeter, while the two servants lift the screen and help her get closer.

— thchchthchh—- sizzles a stretched voice through the air, sounding like rippling fabric.

“Roberto,” she tries again.

tcheeaar tries the voice again. The rose of mutating flesh in admixture of inorganic and metal opens a single blue eye inside it, staring at Sandora.

“I have come to say goodbye.”

[cont.]
>>
>>6107601

# # # # # #


Master finishes tracing lines in the wax. Only then you notice is a rudimentary star map, crossed over by the planetary ring.

“It’s a weak balance,” he sighs. “That in which Asterites live or die. Their powers are worth of awe, that much is true. But each day they teeter close to collapse.”

“Wow,” Salicera scratches her chin. “So we’re going to deal with a ticking time b— I mean, with such a threat?”

“The Asterite who was picked by Carnaval for this mission in a tough one,” Master reassures you. “You are going to be safe around her. Besides, you four, and someone especially…” he flashes a proud look of his grey eyes towards you and your cheeks grow flusher, “… are all under Ansàrra’s protection. Which is another reason why Carnaval picked you.”

“How do we deal with this, Master?” You ask, frowning, looking at the star map. “It feels like we’ll be under threat at every moment.”

“Remember the reasons you are there,” he explains. “This is a diplomatic mission. You are going to help the Asterite in some of her affairs, and if everything goes well you will receive your reward.”

At those words you feel the knot in your stomach tighten. Becoming a Knight, at last. Seeing your family freed from the Landing Strip.

Everything you have worked for, crowned.

“It’s easy, then,” you say with renewed confidence, clenching your fists. The cameo seems to infuse you with strength. “We’ll just have to make everything go well, no matter what.”

One by one, the others smile. Soralisa is bashful, the light of the candles highlighting her cheeks. Rubida nods, a sharp look in her eyes. Master is proud.

And next to you, Salicera gives you a tight little grin.

“Our Vanguard, everyone.”


[cont.]
>>
>>6107602

Even as your cheeks flush harder than before, you feel your mind clear. Now that you know more about what you are going to deal with, the threat is clearer, but it is still far better than the murky waters of the unknown.

You feel relieved.

>Argia’s interactions with her assigned Asterite will now be more confident and self-assured. Her goal in sight, her friends beside her, she will be more resistant to control and intimidation. Narratively, your interactions with the Asterite will overall be more positive and more likely to build up trust.

You then feel Carnaval’s feather, stark and hard against your chest, hidden beneath your clothes. You have decided to ask Master about it as well, but should you do it in front of the others? You don’t want to look too special again… but it may be better to be open with them.

And before this night is over, you want to spend a bit of time with all three of them. No matter what.


>Take out the feather and explain.

>Wait for them to go to bed and speak to Master alone.


well, isn't that a chomnk of an update. I also plan a short but sweet scene between all four of them after a little more focus on this feather and its usage, so please look forward to that. As always, thanks for playing.
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>>6107603
>>Wait for them to go to bed and speak to Master alone.
>>
>>6107603
>Take out the feather and explain.
>>
>>6107603
>Take out the feather and explain.
I'm reminded sally has a worm jar with her
>>6107619
didn't know that artist also did lewds
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>>6107663
Every artist does lewds. You just have to find out where they post them.
>>
>>6106923
Yea, I expected this. Foresaw Rubida getting divinely railed by Master.
>>6107603
>Take out the feather and explain.
I don't mind, really.
>>
>>6107603
>Take out the feather and explain.
Start by apologizing for being a bother, and refer to it as a gift from Caranval to the group, and the mission.
>>
>>6107619
>>6107663
>>6107671
The greatest artists appreciate the beauty of the human body.
>>
>>6107671
>Every artist does lewds.
not for the wide, although this one's are quite tasteful
>>
>>6107603
>Take out the feather and explain.
>>
>>6107210
Might I suggest Emma Goldman? She wasn't a fan of religion, but the character of religion in our world, in our eraa nd hers, differs considerably from the rekigion of Ansarra. Her brand of anti-statism mixed with a love of dance and a love of, well, LOVE is very Maduan (apparently). She also regarded compartmentalizing your morality from your life or work as a failing. Very Stirner-esque. You're fairly well-read by the sounds of it, though, so you may already know of her.
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>>6108004
Swear that name is familiar. Might check out her writing; some of what I saw when checking her out sounds good, though a bit is kind iffy.

>compartmentalizing your morality from your life or work as a failing.

Based beyond belief.

I do have degrees in history, a Masters in a medical field. Reading is my hobby, have like 6 bookcases filled with stuff as well as several boxes of other books stored in the garage. I would not consider my self well-read compared to some, though reading is one of my big hobbies.

I appreciate the recommendation! Thanks anon!
>>
>>6107603
>Take out the feather and explain.
>>
Ops i forgot i already posted my vote, please disregard the second vote.
>>
>>6108778
thanks

>>6108004
interesting, might check it out
>she hated religion
I often feel that most people who supposedly hate religion hate clericalism (which is subjected to scrutiny by the quest itself).

Maduan religion is very interesting to me because it is quite similar to archaic Roman religion in its core concepts and tenets (especially about the importance of the patriarchal family), while also being heavily influenced by Catholicism (as every isekai writer is wont to do) and also by Zoroastrianism, Architecture Parlànt, Iranian mythology, Sufi poetry and the occasional Sumerian/Chinese concept thrown in just for fun. The funny thing is that both Ansàrra, with her pastoral, theocratical benevolent yet stifling semi-anarchism and the Stilladìa with her proto-neoliberalistic, idealist everything-for-progress vision clash with the Throne's statalism and iron grip over society and Asterites. Sandora will be a fun character to write for this as well.

this is not to say the Asterites are good people.

I really hope the rest of the XXI century allows us to rediscover spirituality in a more adult and balanced way demographics is laughing madly in the corner as I type this

>>6107619

>wait for them

>>6107623
>>6107663
>worm jar
yep, it's her jar of worm, for her exclusive personal use (secret item)
>>6107702
>>6107721
>>6107965

>>6108773
(this is the repeated vote)

all these votes in favour of showing it in front of your friends... Argia, that's a little lewd...

still, philosophic discussion inside my quest? Albo notanda lapillo!

I'm exceedingly tired at the end of a long day so forgive the very short update, more will come. This week's schedule has been completely out of whack... apologies, as Argia would say.

Oh, and enjoy the Autumn Equinox anon...
>>
>>6108878
Rest up, and see you soon, QM!
>>
>>6108886
thanks fren
>>
>>6108878
>I often feel that most people who supposedly hate religion hate clericalism (which is subjected to scrutiny by the quest itself).
that as well, although currently I feel that most just hate most rules, specially what's considered sin if you look at our current climate.

>(as every isekai writer is wont to do)
what ?

>I really hope the rest of the XXI century allows us to rediscover spirituality in a more adult and balanced way
well considering that the only people having enough kids are religious, this will happen one way or the another
>>
>>6108897
>what's considered sin

oh, absolutely. we have pushed so far and so deep and so fast into complete Apollonian domain that we have ripped a hole on the other side and are rapidly approaching total Dionysiac conversion. This from the same species that has thermonuclear weapons. fun times ahead

>>6108897
>what

I mostly referenced the stock quasi-catholic role and aesthetics of church institutions in most isekais.

>demographics

that's a good point but I think it's just one of the factors.
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>>6108888
>Stilladìa quads

maybe I should invest...

>>6107603

“There is something I wanted to show you,” you say, your breath feeling a bit heavier than usual. You have to share this with them. They deserve it, even if a part of your wonders whether they’ll hate you for being… special. Standing out. With your hair and now Carnaval’s gift.
You push those thoughts away. No. These are your friends, your very first actual friends.
They deserve this.

You reach for the hem of your shirt and start pulling it up.

“I thought this would have taken at least some flowers,” Salicera comments, immediately smacked on her thigh by Rubida.

The glinting of candlelight on crystal shuts every other comment. You take Carnaval’s gift out and display it for all to see. Three pair of shocked eyes mirror themselves on the shiny surface, glistening crimson with her searing blood.

“That is… one of Carnaval’s…” Rubida mutters, her fingers twitching as if they’d want to touch the feather, but dared not to.

“A feather from her glass wings,” Soralisa hisses in awe. “Oh, legends have it that her blood is the only substance that can harm the Adversary…”

“How did you get this?” Salicera wonders, her slender hand already touching the crystal.

[cont.]
>>
>>6108910
>I mostly referenced the stock quasi-catholic role and aesthetics of church institutions in most isekais.
oh, so it's supposed to be 'prone to do'
>>
>>6108918

“She gave it to me. I am not sure I deserve it, but she said it was a gift… as a way to make amends for our previous mission making us face one of the Seven Sisters.”

“I knew something was not right with that,” Rubida nods. “Well, it is pretty. Gorgeous, even. What are you going to do with it?”

You turn your pleading gaze to Master.

“I… have no idea.”

He smiles and holds out a hand. You put the feather on it and he sets it against the candles, showing the red filtered light pulsating and wavering as if at the rhythm of some invisible heart.

“It is indeed a bit too large for a keepsake. And you already have one powerful amulet with you. No, I don’t believe Carnaval intended this to work as protection… tell me, all four of you: do you know how Carnaval got her name?”

You share lost gazes with Salicera and Rubida, while Soralisa quickly raises her hand.

“Yes?”

Carne levare. In Frigéian dialect.”

“That is correct,” he nods gently, holding the crystal shard, as sharp as your tetracerarmide sword. Wait. Those words remind you of something similar… a tradition from your homeland, but sounding much less ominous. And yet — and then you connect the dots, just before Master translates Soralisa’s words into a more familiar language. The beautiful shard seems to throb with a darker light, one that hints at a blood-tinged anger pulsating from deep inside. “To tear flesh off."

[cont.]


short af update but I really wanted to write something before bed. Did Argia receive a pipe bomb for Christmas? I suppose we'll see... in the meantime, thanks for playing? Uh... reading.
>>
>>6108923
I quite enjoy how you play with etymologies. Thanks for running, QM!
>>
>>6108923
and here I thought it's because she liked to dance and use masks/costumes
>>
>>6108910
>>6108897
"If religion has set up the proposition that we are sinners altogether, I set over against it the other: we are perfect altogether! For we are, every moment, all that we can be; and we never need be more."
Wonder if that's the Stilladian ideal: the egoist cause of the egoist god(dess)?
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>>6108936
>etymologies

thanks. it was a fun little detail to work with.

>>6108978

heh, that may be important as well, but it's a little detail about Carnaval's origins I can't really explore in this quest. maybe one day there will be a novel about her

>>6109425

>we are all we can be and never need to be more

could have worked when it was written, but right now sounds like something a fat activist would say.

writing will continue until morale improves
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>>6108923

It’s been almost one hour after Master finished explaining what he knew of Carnaval’s feather to you, and you sit on your room’s floor, the only light a wavering candle. You scratch the floor with the feather, noticing how its edge just cuts through the stone with little regard for how hard it is.

It just cleaves through the material, as if it wasn’t even there.

And yet, when you hold it in your hand the edge does not bite you. If you squeezed your sword with the same strength you could probably say goodbye to your fingers already, but the feather just pleasantly thrums with its hidden heartbeat.

Carne levare, Soralisa’s words echo in your mind. And you shudder, even wrapped as you are in a thick blanket.

You have heard of the fury of Carnaval, but Master painted a picture of wanton destruction. Something you could perhaps even describe as lustful.

“Not an amulet, for sure.” You grumble, thinking of what’s inside the feather and how you could use it. What the Angel gave to you — a knife which edge can cut through stone with better ease than even your sword — and most importantly — a cup of the bitterest blood. You tap against the crystal to see the crimson liquid inside bubble and shift, as if eager to spill out and start its spiral of death. The only substance that’s known to harm the Adversary… and she gave it to you.

You wonder if such a thing will be useful to you over the course of your mission. You hope not.
You really hope you won’t have to use this.
Still, its presence is strangely soothing. There is something beautiful in the way the blood seeps and shifts inside the feather, filling up all its inner cracks.

You could probably spend the entire night smashing the feather against the floor and it wouldn’t even chip. But as Master said, when aided by your intent, the feather would know when to bloom. And spill its contents.

But not for now.

There’s a knock on your door. You put the feather inside your backpack and go to open it, finding Rubida and Salicera’s face level with you, and, slightly lower, Soralisa’s.

“Come on in,” you whisper, stepping aside from the door.

[cont.]
>>
>>6110175

“I didn’t take you for someone who liked sleepovers,” Salicera says, grinning from over your bed. Like a large and lazy cat with a lovely brown braid, she has taken possession of it, relegating you and Rubida on the floor. Soralisa sits in the only chair.

“I may be not,” you reply. “I just wanted to gather you all here after we spent time talking with Master, I…” you sigh, running a hand nervously through your locks. “I wanted - I needed - to tell you that I don’t really feel comfortable with Carnaval’s gift, even if it was given with the best intentions. After everything that happened, I have felt like a puppet dancing on strings. Until Master was there I could count on him to know better, but now… he’s going to leave soon. Are my shoulders wide enough for what’s about to come? I want you three to count on me, if that is truly what is expected of me, but…” you reach for your Cameo and its comforting presence, “I truly need to know what you think.”

“What should we think?” Soralisa is the first one to speak, surprising all of you. “What should we say? Send a letter to Ansàrra’s palace and kindly beg Her for another Blessed Blind?” She chuckles. “The last one did nothing to try and save my arms. She certainly did not throw herself into the fire for me, when I was a fool and afraid.”

“Candente does have a point,” Rubida adds, scratching her chin. “If they send us someone better, or put her under someone else’s scrutiny, then perhaps we can look better by contrast. I mean, I was sore enough being bested in combat by such a country bumpkin. Don’t you think so, Salicera?”

The brunette shrugs.

“Where Argia goes, I go.”
“I forgot about that,” Rubida rolls her eyes, while Soralisa laughs.

[cont.]
>>
>>6110176

“So, that means…” you try.

“That we will eagerly follow you.”

“But don’t expect us to not flick you on the forehead if something you say is idiotic, Candente.”

You stand up and pull Rubida into a hug, which turns into a group embrace as even Salicera decides to join in, and you lean forward to include Soralisa.

“Thanks. Thank you so much.”

You four share the embrace, enjoying it while it lasts, while the candles run.
And deep down, you remind yourself to set aside a few more prayers to Ansàrra, in thanks for this moment.

A while later, when it’s time to go to sleep as a long day of riding awaits you, Rubida and Soralisa leave first, while Salicera lingers on the door. She turns to touch your cheek and you blush.

“Another night.”

Oh. The talk.

“Yes. Tomorrow night?”

She nods, picking up your left hand and putting a ghostly kiss on your fingertips, which sends your cheeks glowing red.

“Goodnight, Argia.”
“G-goodnight!”

You almost push Salicera out of your room as your heart gallops. And yet, as your head hits the pillow, a comfortable sleep takes you right away.


[cont.]
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>>6110177

# # # # # #


Master leaves you four by next morning. You sit on your horse, waving your arm as you keep watching him ride off to the left at a crossroad, directed towards the heart of the Holy Land.
You hope you can see him again.
Maybe the next time you do, you will be getting ready for your Trial of Fire.
Master disappears behind a line of cypresses, and your stomach feels heavier all of a sudden.
You are on your own once again.
The three girls surrounding you wait for your signal to leave. The part of your heart that’s stuck on your sixteenth birthday would make camp here and cry and beg and plead and pray for Master to come back.
The part of your heart that’s been through the Night Well spurns you forward.
You raise your other arm.
“We’ll proceed down the Aurelian Road towards the sea, and do some training in the meantime. As—”
You stop. Something makes you look up, towards the sky, patched with tall white clouds, like castles abandoned in a waveless sea.
And from there, bulging out of one of the clouds, in the distance, miles and miles and miles away, a large black sphere appears from the cloud banks, pushing them off its path as they trail behind it like foam off a towering whale. The sun kisses the polished surface, its own light now blinding bright, so much you have to cover your eyes from the spectacle. It looks just like Master’s weapon, an immense building made of blindglass, impenetrable and formidable. And yet, it shows a large crack right in the middle, the reminder of the night when Saint Bragia was killed and the very first confrontation between the Adversary and the Sun-Birther.

This is Her abode.
It’s the first time you have seen it.

You can faintly spot the rails, the courts, the corridors and walkways on the sphere — they would reach higher than the towers of the Echorian, and yet they do not look taller than a nail’s width from here.

Instinctively, you raise your hand, the three fingers in the middle extended.

Then an even larger bank of clouds comes forward to hide Ansàrra’s floating palace from view. Your heart beats hard against your ribcage.

“I think it’s a good omen,” Soralisa muses.

“Let’s hope so,” you agree, turning the horse towards the south, the sea, and your destiny.

>The next thing to focus on for the next three days, until you reach the Sea, will be your combat style...


>You'll keep being the Vanguard, but Salicera will stay close to you, forming two pairs with the others.

>You'll let Salicera take the head position, while you stay right behind her to better check on Soralisa and Rubida

>You'll focus on a different tactic this time, spending the next three days focusing on Sanctions. This is Heathen lands, after all.

>Or maybe... [Write In/Suggestion]

I really enjoyed writing that final scene. I hope I can come back to a more regular updating style after this last week. Thanks for playing.
>>
>>6110141
>could have worked when it was written, but right now sounds like something a fat activist would say.
It's a Stirner quote, and the fan lived in obscurity and died at 49 of an infected bug-bute while fleeing creditors, after a series of failed relationships and businesses. Safe to say that it didn't work well back then, either.

>>6110177
Damn, Sally chivalrous as fuck. We gotta fix her, bros.
>>
>>6110181
>You'll keep being the Vanguard, but Salicera will stay close to you, forming two pairs with the others.
>>
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>>6110181
>You'll keep being the Vanguard, but Salicera will stay close to you, forming two pairs with the others.
>>
>>6110181
>>You'll focus on a different tactic this time, spending the next three days focusing on Sanctions. This is Heathen lands, after all.
>>
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>>6110181
>And yet, it shows a large crack right in the middle, the reminder of the night when Saint Bragia was killed and the very first confrontation between the Adversary and the Sun-Birther.
So Ansàrra has a floating castle ? nice. I've been on a small WH40K binge on and off this weekend and now that I think about it, Anssàrra vs Stillàdia with St. Bragia dead really reminds me of Big E vs Horus right after Sanguinius' death, but in this case the adversary kinda won while the sun-birther still got the same ending as the emperor.

>You'll focus on a different tactic this time, spending the next three days focusing on Sanctions. This is Heathen lands, after all.
Gotta bump our holy arts here
>>
>>6110181
>You'll focus on a different tactic this time, spending the next three days focusing on Sanctions. This is Heathen lands, after all.
>>
>>6110181
>>You'll focus on a different tactic this time, spending the next three days focusing on Sanctions. This is Heathen lands, after all.
>>
>>6110181
>You'll focus on a different tactic this time, spending the next three days focusing on Sanctions. This is Heathen lands, after all.
>>
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>>6110182
>died on the run, from a bugbite
kinda metal even in death

>>6110184
>>6110186
niiiice pic

Vanguard time

>>6110190
>>6110224

>floating castle
yep, something I always liked. its shape is inspired by a mix between Miyazaki's Laputa and Louis-Boulleé's Cenotaph to Newton (an example of Architecture Parlànt influencing the setting). I have always been partial to huge volumes and geometrical, blocky shapes in architecture. Madua is the perfect place to explore this little obsession of mine

>Empy vs Horus and Angy Boi

ahhh, indeed. some of the inspirations go all the way back to 40K, for sure. I can't say I am a huge fan of it right now (I can't say I'm a huge fan of any IP actually), but the climax of the Heresy is poignant. Then again, I'd say that mostly worked as inspiration than anything else, or perhaps a suggestion. I have already left a trail of breadcrumbs through the quest to suggest that things, on that terrible night when Ansàrra broke Her own palace and directly fought the Stilladìa for the first and last time, did not exactly go as portrayed, perhaps...

... wonder if anons will ever connect the pieces together? Maybe you'll find more hints in the most unexpected of places.

>>6110486
>>6110545
>>6110600

time for Sanctioning, 5 vs 2

thanks for voting. writing!
>>
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>>6110181

You spend the next few days trying to patch over the most glaring hole in your defences.
For some reason, that decision sees you sitting topless inside a chalk circle, with Soralisa behind you, Rubida mounting guard, and Salicera grinning, draped over a fallen tree like a lazy cat, enjoying the view.

Hmmm. Perhaps you should have asked Soralisa for help at a later time. Now you can’t keep but focusing on Salicera’s smile as she looks at you like a cat aiming for a silver-haired canary.

“… the oils, please?” Soralisa pulls you out of your reverie and you comply, giving her the vials of sacred oil you received from the town. Behind you, she uncorks them and starts to trace slow, tentative lines over your back.

Your cheeks grow even redder at her touch over your naked back, mostly because she is really making an effort. She already said she wanted to help the group and she is really pushing herself.

But perhaps effort and exercise will do better to her limbs than passive rest.

We are storm animals, and the storm suits us, Master used to say. Maybe it’s true even for Maduans, used to their carefree lives of plenty and abundance.

“The intent is the most important thing,” she relies, her voice soft and focused, reaching your ears like silken braids. “When you reach out to the Sun-Birther, you are casting your net just like a thousand thousand’s other prayers. If you are not sure about what it is you are looking for, neither She will be able to help you find it.”

You nod, noticing how Salicera has crossed her arms over her chest, as if to shield herself from Soralisa’s words.

“I will have to stay focused then.”

“Focused yet receptive. Your inner world is— expansive.” Her fingers stop tracing lines over your back.
She ought to know. She has been there.
For all the interactions you had with the other two, especially Salicera, the slender brunette was the only one who could reach out to you, led by the Highest of leads.
In a way it was… intimate.

You haven’t given it much thought as of now, but Soralisa has seen the barest parts of your soul, unlike anyone else besides Master and the Sun-Birther herself.

You turn your gaze to regard her, looking at you with her big brown eyes.

“I-Is there something amiss?” She stutters, flushing slightly on her rounded cheeks.

[cont.]
>>
>>6110683

“Nay,” you reassure her. “You are a good teacher. Let’s try it again. I want to get better at this.”

“Doubt you will need it,” you feel her shrug. “You are blessed already.”
“The tree with water and soil and no effort does not grow,” you reply, paraphrasing Master. You have found your water, indeed. “Again from the start, please.”

“Intent is the most important thing…” she repeats, starting over with tracing the lines over your back with the sacred oils. You relax your shoulders and close your eyes, allowing your lower back fall back straight, even if it means exposing your chest. There are more important things to be mindful of, and besides, Maduan do not seem to mind.

Intent is the most important thing…

Rising a cup of wine with your family.
Seeing them happily tilling one of the fields managed by Rubida’s family.
You, completing the mission and giving your family what they needed.

Intent is the most important thing.


>Your training with Soralisa helps you! You receive a further +4 bonus to Sanction checks (both kinds of checks)

[cont.]
>>
>>6110684

# # # # # #


Last night before the Sea, you lay on your cot, looking up at the sky. The light rains of the last few days have given way to a clear sky, full of stars.
Not all of them are evil.
Perhaps.
You can’t deny that even treacherous as some of them may be, the night dome is astounding.
There is no need to mount guard in Madua. There are no monsters, no bandits, no dangers. Only the light night wind caressing the silvery grass and the faint damp smell of black earth.
You still decided to take turns, better get right into the habit as you are about to leave.
So you have time to think.
You wouldn’t like to, but—

“Couldn’t sleep?” Someone sits next to you. “Me neither,” Salicera says. You find the way her shirt falls over her naked shoulder a bit distracting, but you refrain from saying anything.

“I was just thinking.”
“Bad habit,” she chuckles, her hand reaching for a strand of your hair and shifting it away from your forehead.

You know why she’s here.

“This is the last night we can spend alone. Us four, I mean… alone. The other two are asleep.” She bites her lip. “Now that I am here I feel less boisterous than before. The last few days have made me… uneasy. About telling this. I fear your reaction, Argia,” she confesses, laying next to you on the grass. She looks up, lifts a hand and slowly clenches it, as if grasping at something only she can see. “I’m afraid you will never see me the same way.”

She turns on her elbow to look at you.

“You pressed for this, and I really want to tell you. You are the only person I can tell you the truth. Are you truly ready for it? I can… I believe I can wait for the end of this mission if you truly need it.”

You look deep into Salicera’s brown and grey eyes…

>This is the night.

>You don't really need to know.


Well, isn't this a night of portents. I had imagined this moment would happen right at the end of previous thread, but as always quests have a life of their own. This is a really important vote of course. Wonder how Argia will react to the truth... or at least the closest thing to the truth. Thanks for playing!


>>6110182
>we gotta fix Salicera

you are still in time.
>>
>>6110667
>I have already left a trail of breadcrumbs through the quest to suggest that things, on that terrible night when Ansàrra broke Her own palace and directly fought the Stilladìa for the first and last time, did not exactly go as portrayed, perhaps...
>... wonder if anons will ever connect the pieces together? Maybe you'll find more hints in the most unexpected of places.
might need to check back, again, since what little I remember is Stilly thinking back about the saint and her battle, but it's indeed strange that on a 1v1 on her own domain Ansàrra got it worse than the enemy
>>6110685
>This is the night.
do it now
>>
>>6110685
>>This is the night.
>>
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>>6110685
>>You don't really need to know.
>>
>>6110685
>You don't really need to know.
>>
>>6110685
>This is the night.

>>6110182 is me.
>>
>>6110685
>This is the night.
She kept putting it off. No more.
>>
>>6110685
>>This is the night.
>>
>>6110687
>it's indeed strange Ansàrra got it worse
yep. may be a little bit strange
>>6110696
>>6110849
>>6110866
>>6111038

5 for telling

>>6110699
>>6110758

2 for waiting.

interesting votes. update coming in a few hours. nice pics anon, keep it coming.
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>>6110685
>This is the night.

Let's have Argia's whole world view fucked! Do it! Fuck it hard and fast, make her question everything!

>Maybe it will. maybe it won't; I know this must be important. But what ever it is, I will always care about you, have shared our experiances as part of me. Care about you, one way or another.
>>
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>>6111078
>>6111080

Missed it by a couple of minutes. My choice still won, but that is funny as fuck to me, decided to grab a smoke before voting and "boom".
>>
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>>6111080
wtf anon, making me laugh out loud in the middle of the cafe

>Argia's whole wordview fucked
autism makes you immune to cosmic horror

>>6111082
>more konataposting

dammit, you already got your rare drop
>>
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>>6111083
Konata has been my oshi, my bae, my waifu for like a decade in and a half. I will give an expy of her a cameo in my thing at some point.

Now to hopefully rest, maybe work on a scene which will likely happen in my game, unless people just go way off the rails or stop playing.
>>
>>6111084
enjoy your rest anon

>final tally 6 to 2 for listening to Salicera.

writing!

(also, updated Argia's stats in her character sheet)
>>
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>>6110685

oooh boi. I have wanted to write this scene since I began the quest.

The car feels cramped, like always. She runs a hand through her sweaty brown hair. How long is a stupid stop at the gas station’ store going to take anyway? Maybe she should get out of the car and check on her parents. But no — says a small and angry part of herself — they would probably make more comments about how she cares now, about how she’s finally growing up.

“Fuck that noise,” she mutters, picking up her phone. Here in the middle of nowhere, on a stupid stop of a stupid road trip — it was supposed to bring them all together, but mom and dad switched from terse, glacial silence to bouts of shouting and then to uneasy silence again, so she has spent most of the trip either playing with her phone or attempting to coax the character’s AI into something approaching believability — and now all she can do is kick the seat in frustration.

Whump.

It feels good.

So she gives it another — whump! — and she starts to feel a little better, the anxious knot in her stomach giving way to gleeful adrenaline.

Look! She’s kicking the seat. Just what she’s not supposed to do, what dad complained about over and over. And there’s no one to stop her here. Nobody who can tell her what to do. Or what not to.

One day, every day will be like that. She’ll be the one making the rules.

One day.

[cont.]
>>
>>6111360

“Check that out,” she chuckles, her laughter bubbling on her lips like a hiss, “I ruined your precious car.”

The faint footprints from her shoes are visible on the soft black cover of the seat.Really, what’s taking them so long? She adjusts her earbuds, almost knocked off by her kicking.
As her adrenaline runs dry, though, she quickly cleans her mess, and checks her phone for the AI’s reply.


“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” she groans, shutting the app in annoyance. That thing did not even understand her questions. Sometimes it seems like it can get what she’s asking of it, and then it completely loses it. Inside the car, air feels stifling. She pulls on the hem of her t-shirt and finally decides to walk out into the summer’s sun. The acrid smell of cooked asphalt tickles her nose. She leans against the yellow car for a moment, but it’s hot enough to feel uncomfortable. The grey ribbon of the road unravels in straight lines and curves around the burnt hills, mangy grass and shrubs broiling in the heated air. She hates it. And this is just the second day out of what… five? Six? Maybe fewer days if dad throws another of his temper tantrums, or mom truly starts spewing venom at him. Lucky her. At least she could go back home, and dream about the day when she will be free of all this. Interactions with her parents are never going to change anyway. It’s like they are NPCs in a vidya, always falling back onto those four or five lines… and if they manage to change them a little, it’s just an illusion, like the AI chat in her phone. Everyone is like that. Just following a script.

She sighs, turning towards the gas station, with its little dirty diner. At this point she might just check if she can find something to eat inside… setting her earbuds deep into her ears and kicking up the volume — anything to cover the useless chatter of people — and she swings the diner’s door open, the creak covered by the music.

She checks the aisles and—

Her parents are frozen. So is the clerk. They are all looking at someone — some guy in a hood holding a bag, walking away from the counter. She can’t hear their voices over the music. Something’s wrong. Her father’s eyes widen in horror. The guy turns when he almost bumps into her. She sees his gun. Too late.


[cont.]
>>
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>>6111361

It doesn’t make any sense. A gun. Why a gun, here, why a robbery here, in this stupid place? It’s stupid. It goes against the script… then her instincts, dulled by almost fifteen years of civilised caging, kick in and she screams — she can hear it in her skull over the drumming music — the robber can hear it too, he raises his gun, pushes her out of his way, punches her gut, runs past her, into the dull blue sky, steps into her parents’ yellow car, and the tires screech and there — it’s gone.

That punch… she groans. Ouch. That fucker got her good, she tries to say, she tries to feel angry, but it’s like anger is a foreign concept, slipping out of her weak fingers.
Her t-shirt is wet.
And she feels a stinging, did he use a… knife.
Her fingers are painted red. Stained crimson, stark and shiny under the sunlight. The crimson spreads from some spot on her t-shirt, which does not make sense, because her t-shirt is white, not red…
It’s getting pretty red.
Her head falls on the floor. She feels so tired. Dulled. Something wet keeps dripping beneath her.
She got shot.
This is absurd.
She is—
She can’t get shot!
She has a life ahead of her! She can’t get shot like a stupid nobody!
Opening her mouth to protest, only a wet gurgle spills out. The edges of her vision turn dark as her father and her mother rush to her, holding her up, her father’s grip presses against her wound, squeezing more blood past his fingers, her mother’s arms wrapped around her neck, calling her name over the music, her name, telling her everything will be alright, to stay awake, stay with them…
She’s dying, and she’s not even listening to her favourite fucking song.
This is pretty fucking stupid.
The notes stretch, bloat, and the black tide encroaches her. Her head falls back, like a doll’s, and her vitreous eyes glance at the clear blue sky, the white circle of the moon hanging from below, and as her memories shifts and entangle like roots, the last moments of her previous life on Earth painted over the memories of her encounter in the well, the Kiengir woman from the other side, with her sable skin and blue eyes and long black hair stands out there on the road, holding out a long grey thing on her opened palm, her remembrance mixed and broken, and then the darkness rises and it drags her down, down, down…
>>
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>>6111363

# # # # # #


You reach out to Salicera. She’s worrying you a little.
It’s not like her to second guess herself. Not like this.
Is this your own fault? For not being there with her at the night of the festival?
Since then you felt like you have lost a special occasion, and the bitter taste of that loss aches in your stomach. You won’t make the same mistake again.

“There is no need to wait. I am listening. No matter what.”

She nods, her movements all jittery. She takes a deep shaky breath.

“You know—” she starts, “I thought this would have been much easier. Fuck, I’m supposed to be the smooth and sexy one. Goddammit.”

Your worry rises in the pitch of your stomach. You don’t recognise every word, like usual, but you understand she’s cursing.She’s cursing, and she’s pale. Pale like a sheet. Your reach out to her, holding her shoulder.

Her eyes raise to the heavens, following the planetary ring.

“What a stupid place. A moon is much better.”

“I don’t understand. Salicera…” she jolts beneath your touch.

“No.” She wets her lips, shaking her beautiful head. Her brown eyes turn darker and rounder as she gives you a fragile smile, so different from her usual smirk. “No. I don’t want you to use that name. Not with me. Not ever.”

You wait for her speak, the thumping of your heart filling in the cracks between your breaths.

“My name,” she reveals with her throaty voice, “is Willow Stark.


>That's... not a Maduan name. You have a bad, bad feeling about this. Is Salicera perhaps under the influence of something? You should get a Sanction ready... just to check. You can't lose your friend.

>You do not understand. Those last two words sound strange and alien. But you'll give her the time to finish her recount.

>You have never seen Salicera so shaken. You'll listen, no, actually, you'll do something even better. You decide to pull her into a hug. She really really needs like she needs a hug... and nobody was there to give her one.

>Amidst the chaos in your mind, there is also something else... [Add a suggestion]


well, damn. wasn't this an interesting update to write. It was a fun challenge to me as well, because I tried to switch my style to something more contemporary, to show Salicera's (Willow's!) point of view from back home. I feel blessed formatting was also correct. Now... how is Argia going to react to the news? And thanks for playing.
>>
>>6111368
>>You do not understand. Those last two words sound strange and alien. But you'll give her the time to finish her recount.
>>
>>6111363
so it wasn't truck-kun or any of his brothers, it's a simple robbery gone wrong. zam. also nice omori pick.
>>6111408
>+1
>>
>>6111368
>You have never seen Salicera so shaken. You'll listen, no, actually, you'll do something even better. You decide to pull her into a hug. She really really needs like she needs a hug... and nobody was there to give her one.
So she bought into the NPC meme before she even got isekai'd. Well, thinking you're special and unique all part of being a teenager, I guess, and she sounds like a 'channer.
>>
>>6111368
>You do not understand. Those last two words sound strange and alien. But you'll give her the time to finish her recount.
>>
>>6111368
>You have never seen Salicera so shaken. You'll listen, no, actually, you'll do something even better. You decide to pull her into a hug. She really really needs like she needs a hug... and nobody was there to give her one.

>Amidst the chaos in your mind, there is also something else... [Add a suggestion]

>That if this is so important? Somthing only you and her will know? No matter what, you will keep this secret, what ever it is. It must scare and pain her deeply to say it... you haven't known her for so long. Fought along side her sure... but you know she didn't have many friends growing up; just know it. People she could trust with what is to come, her story; not even her... her name. Willow. How must that have felt? You can understand some of it, your own hair, what happened when you became destitude... You will be there. Unless she is one of the Sisters reborn, you would be there for one of the first people you considered a friend. Tell her that name sounds cute, even if it is odd.

>>6111574
She came from an... inattentive, if not outright abusive family. Had to find a way to conceptualize things and the stuff she found in games probably helped her find words and means to conceptualize things; her parents kind of having something of a not great relationship was one of those experiences it seems she disassociated from and used that kind of logic to deal with. She seemed young when it happened. So that is what she brought with her when isekai'd.

She does have MC syndrome, but we can fix her. And also fuck Rubi; that must be on our to-do list.

Or not, maybe I am a dumb ass.

As a note, if you ever want advice about injuries, medical stuff, ect...I have some experience. I assume Willow got a liver shot or one that hit the descending vena cava, maybe spleen. No way to treat that before bleeding out when in the middle of no-where at a little gas station, really unless you have field medic training and even then it is giving them enough time to get to someone who can give an extra bit of time with a pressure bag of more blood till surgery can be performed. I have a 20lbs medical bag in my car and house, a bunch of training but a bad shot to liver or spleen is a nightmare if I wasn't near even some kind of rural hospital even.
>>
>>6111368
>>You do not understand. Those last two words sound strange and alien. But you'll give her the time to finish her recount.
>>
>>6111368
>You do not understand. Those last two words sound strange and alien. But you'll give her the time to finish her recount.
>>
>>6111368
>>That's... not a Maduan name. You have a bad, bad feeling about this. Is Salicera perhaps under the influence of something? You should get a Sanction ready... just to check. You can't lose your friend.
>>
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>>6111413
>a simple robbery
Truck-kun was on vacation (probably paid by the Stilladìa as a bonus for his outstanding work. Stranders’ souls fetch a pretty penny)

>omori pic
I had no idea it was omori

>4 votes for Give her time and listen
>2 votes for Gib hug
>1 vote for Sanctioned bonkerino

Clear majority so far. Two more hours for voting because I’m currently away. Thanks for voting.

>>6111574
>she bought into the NPC meme

Willow might have been a regular on /v/. You might have even read a couple of her threads

>>6111616

>spoiler
Thanks! I’ll keep it in mind if need strikes.

>suggestion
Nice idea! I’ll probably put it in even if your options does not win in the vote tally

>she came from an inattentive family

Yeah, a bit. Willow is certainly young at this point, even though I have avoided giving her a specific age, but she’s in high school when she dies. Her character and her past make her a very interesting mirror to Argia, pretty much in every regard. She’s a interesting character to write.

I appreciated the speculation anon! These are my favourite kinds of comment
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>>6111368

The words hit you with the strength of a mallet. Yet you do not recoil, even if you can feel your eyes widen in shock. Willow Stark.

That is no Maduan name. It is not Kiengir, either. It sounds completely different from every language or dialect you are familiar with. It may come from the other side of the world, or…

No, wait. Wait, wait, wait. The tassels set themselves in your head, creating a complete pattern, while Salicera — Willow! — keeps staring at you, her breath ragged, her hands in a vice gripe.
Her use of strange words and expressions.
How she described wild things and experiences.
Her incredible skills.
The Blessed Blind’s suspicion…

It has to be true.

Salicera — Willow — chuckles drily as she spots your mind connecting the dots.

It’s not the other side of the world.
It’s another world.

Like Saint Kishirra's friend... companion.

“I knew you would get it right away. You don’t have book smarts, but for this sort of thing? Whip-sharp.”

“You are a Strander.

[cont.]
>>
>>6112052

You heard about that word. Of course you did, just like you heard the name of Ansàrra even before sharing in the Faith, or the name of the Adversary. Just like you knew about Carnaval, and the tales of Bradiamante, or Aghriman, the Accursed: hushed whispers at the edge of tales. Lost souls, plunging into the world like abyssal fish occasionally caught in a fisherman’s net. Supposedly, in possession of strange abilities.
And now one of them is right besides you. Her cheek smooth and warm under your hand. You are breathing her same air, looking into her eyes.

A part of you wants to reach for your Cameo and whisper a desperate Sanction, lest this be revealed as a trick to your eyes — but no. Salicera (you’ll go with Salicera in your head for a bit, just not to get caught up in confusion) has always been there for you. And she passed every trial, again and again. You can’t cast suspicion over her motives once again, it would not be worth of you as a Knight.
Even an apprentice Knight.

The impulse to reach out and pull her into an embrace then rushes from the depth of your stomach. She looks like she needed one of those. Even with your absolute lack of understanding of social situations, you can see the signs. Certain people look rough and angular, like stones rolled onto a riverbed that water has yet to polish and round, each embrace doing the work of ten years of torrential rain.

“Wheel-low St-arc,” you try.

“Willow,” she repeats in a murmur, shaking all over as she allows her name to pass through her lips once again. “Stark.”

“Will’low Starck.”

“Almost there,” she chuckles. “I know it sounds different. I used to have so much troubles with names when I arrived here. Everything sounds Latin… or Italian or whatnot!”

You have no idea what she’s talking about.
Like usual.
But at least you are starting to understand why.

“It sounds weird.” At your remark Salicera — Willow — attempts one of her usual smirks, but it look strained, so you correct yourself. “B-But it’s cute. It’s cute. It sounds like… like wind through branches. And a door that closes shut. I don’t know. It’s cute.”

[cont.]
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>>6112054

Her smirk softens into a smile.
Alright.
You can do this.
Oh, Sun-Birther.
May Saint Bragia watch over you.

“Please go on,” you mutter. “I gather that… that was not all of it, was it?” She’s the same as you. Was always much better at hiding it, but now that her mask cracked, you recognise it, clear as Her day. She did not have many friends growing up. Her stone, left dry and uncared for in a dry hole. And yet she reached out yo you to reveal her secret.
You are the first person she—
Oh, Sun-Birther. You are the first person who knows the truth about the genius sword master. And why she is a genius.

Your arms feel paralysed.
But at least, you can listen.

“I…” she starts, but, just as she begins to speak, your confusion and emotions overwhelm you and, oh, Starless Night! It’s a miracle you manage to keep your voice low as you barrage your friend with a string of questions…

>Choose two:

>“Where do you come from?” - A

>“Wait. So… you died?” - B

>“I-I think we should keep talking under that tree over there. And please speak slowly.” - C

>“So that’s why the Blessed Blind was so worried about you! Wait… how come nobody learned about this?” - D

>“And another thing…” [Suggest a question]


well damn. Argia trying to pronounce Willow's name is peak cute. Wonder where this will lead? Surely Argia can deal with this without her brain melting out of her ears... surely she can. And as always, thanks for playing!
>>
>>6112057
>“Where do you come from?” - A
>“So that’s why the Blessed Blind was so worried about you! Wait… how come nobody learned about this?” - D
an intimate one and a serious one after breaking the ice
>>
>>6112057
>>“I-I think we should keep talking under that tree over there. And please speak slowly.” - C
>>“So that’s why the Blessed Blind was so worried about you! Wait… how come nobody learned about this?” - D
>>
>>6112057
>“Where do you come from?” - A
>“So that’s why the Blessed Blind was so worried about you! Wait… how come nobody learned about this?” - D
>>
>>6112057
>“Where do you come from?” - A
>“I-I think we should keep talking under that tree over there. And please speak slowly.” - C
>>
>>6112057
>“Where do you come from?” - A

>“I-I think we should keep talking under that tree over there. And please speak slowly.” - C
>>
>>6112080
>>6112081
>>6112323
>>6112329
>>6112391

thanks for the votes. I'll be able to update in about two hours, so two more hours or so for voting. enjoy the weekend anon
>>
>>6112057
>>“Where do you come from?” - A
>>“So that’s why the Blessed Blind was so worried about you! Wait… how come nobody learned about this?” - D
>>
>>6112057
>“Where do you come from?” - A
>“I-I think we should keep talking under that tree over there. And please speak slowly.” - C
>>
>>6112573
real nice. we'll pretend she's wearing green contact lenses (is cosplay a thing in Madua?)

kek at the single booba protection. and are those rivets on the mace's head? that's certainly a fake prop, probably Frigéian cheap replacement.
>>
>>6112573
Noel, my beloved
>>6112641
That’s a vtuber, if you’re curious
>>
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>>6112727
>the accursed V-word

I'll allow it because she has nice titties.

Final tally:
>A+D
>C+D
>A+D
>A+C
>A+C
>A+D
>A+C

6A
4C
4D
0B :(

writing.
>>
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>>6112057

“First things first,” you say standing up and pulling Sali-Willow-Salicera (it’s going to be Salicera for now!) up with you, “let’s talk under the tree over there. We can still check the camp from the vantage point.”

It’s a pointless worry. You are still in Madua. No bandit or monster will show up to disturb this night. But you’ll be able to enjoy more privacy over there. And if Rubida wakes up and sees an empty spot where you should be, she can probably guess you and Salicera were just sharing words by the tree. Just… talking. Maybe smooching? Surely nothing like Salicera revealing her true origins as a Strander! Yes, it’s a safe bet.

Trying to keep your heart from bumping too hard against your chest, you practically drag Salicera away from the camp and beneath the cypress. It smells like resin and dry earth.

“There. Here is… is better.” The scent reminds you of your homeland, it reminds you of Ansàrra. So that weird smelly road Salicera was talking about also was from her own world.

It’s such an overwhelming concept, a whole world out there somewhere. With its own monsters and people and races… you wonder if they also have something akin to Ansàrra there. And the Adversary.

“So…” you fidget. Now that the shock is starting to ebb (as much as it can! Another world! A Strander!) your natural curiosity grows. “Where do you come from… Willow?

She smiles at the use of her old name… her true name.

“… Earth.”

[cont.]
>>
>>6112853

It takes Salicera (Willow) a few minutes to stop laughing when you asked her if she popped out of the bare earth like a tuber.
As it turns out her home world is named just like that - ‘Earth’.
Must not be a very imaginative place.

“It’s a bit like here. There’s just more… stuff going around.”

“Like talking mirrors? The thing you were talking about a few days ago.”

“Yes, like… talking mirrors. Not really talking. It’s complicated. And… flying chariots… a lot of stuff. Not all of it is nice, though.” She pauses, a frown upon her beautiful face. “Most of it is not nice at all. But I don’t really want to talk about it — it was my home, but it wasn’t… home.” She sighs. “I just woke up in a forest in Madua, with my old body. It was as if not a moment had passed since…” she trails off.

“I can see how hard it was for you,” you try, in an attempt to make her feel understood. “From the way you speak of it.”

You feel the urge to pull her into an embrace once more. But perhaps it’s better to go at her own pace…

“Wait!” you slap your forehead, putting once more two and two together and throwing the idea of allowing Salicera to go at her own pace out of the window. “So that’s why the Blessed Blind kept asking about you! She thought you were a Strander!”

“Hah,” she chuckles, scratching her cheek. “I knew she suspected something. To be fair, I think your old man does as well. I think he… knows, somehow. But he hasn’t said anything so far. To be fair, I’m grateful.”

“How could Master know?”

She shrugs.

“But… if you are a Strander… they are all subjected to scrutiny before being allowed training. Does that mean that… oh, Starless Night,” you hiss, thinking about the true repercussions of this. “Nobody… nobody knows.”
>>
>>6112856

Her smirk comes back to her lips. It looks a bit darker than usual, as if she is taking some sort of secret pleasure with the secret she’s sharing with you.
It’s not some harmless little piece of information.

“If a Strander gets found, they are subject to tight control and regulation, before they can access Knighthood,” she muses.

“But if they don’t, and are allowed to train, then the responsibility falls upon on those who allowed it.” Salicera’s smile turns sharp. She seems so shudder with relief, all too complacent in sharing the dark fruits of her deceit. “In this case… the Blessed Blind who carelessly, in her arrogance, opened the doors to me in the first place. I think you know her.”

You frown, once more putting back the pieces.

“But why would Astoria…”

“She was obsessed with proving herself,” Salicera chuckles. “I suppose she felt like she was just helping a gifted youth finding her path. Stranders’ abilities are usually far more… flashy, I am told. And now she’s going after me, worried her past mistake will come back to bite her in the ass. So, you see, Argia… nobody knows. And nobody can know..”

[cont.]
>>
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>>6112860

You are not privy to the precise details, but you have heard about… the general idea.
If they find out about Salicera’s… Willow’s… true identity, she will be brought to the Palace of Ansàrra for questioning. All four of you will be questioned. Even Master, if he really did know. And this would be a much more grave matter than you can deal with. That Master can deal with.

Something inside your stomach coils like a shuddering serpent at the idea of keeping this secret.

“See? I did tell you. I did tell you this would have changed everything.” She reaches out to you, her hand landing on yours, tracing slow circles against the root of your thumb. “You are the only one, Argia. The only one who can know. Why? Because you are not a nobody.” Her big brown eyes, edged grey just like your sword, look at you, her cheeks flushing. “Will you keep my secret?”


>Salicera may have her reasons, and even maybe just taken advantage of Astoria’s own ambitions, but she still did not behave properly. You will keep her secret… but only until this mission is over. You stand for truth, after all.

>She has been a true friend so far. You can’t judge her actions like you would a member of your own world. You do not like it, but your bonds of friendship come before the bonds you may have towards Astoria di Ottava ora… as long as Willow keeps earning your trust.

>Willow has made mistakes, but what would you have done in her place? Stranded on a foreign world, with no family, no friends… and she still joined the right side, even if her Faith is still lacking. Perhaps this can be your true Trial, even before Knighthood… showing her she made the right choice.

>And there is also something else you did not consider at the start… [Suggestion]

Well, that explains why Astoria was being an absolute hard-ass on you. Thanks for playing, as always. Today was supposed to be a great day, but I somehow got involved into another bike accident. For me, less troublesome than last time. For the bike... not so much. I hope at least with the update I can end the day on a high note. Hope I can keep updating regularly. See you soon.
>>
>>6112863
>>She has been a true friend so far. You can’t judge her actions like you would a member of your own world. You do not like it, but your bonds of friendship come before the bonds you may have towards Astoria di Ottava ora… as long as Willow keeps earning your trust.
>>
>>6112863
>Willow has made mistakes, but what would you have done in her place? Stranded on a foreign world, with no family, no friends… and she still joined the right side, even if her Faith is still lacking. Perhaps this can be your true Trial, even before Knighthood… showing her she made the right choice.
>And there is also something else you did not consider at the start… [Suggestion]
Ask her about her Strander Ability
>>
>>6112863
>>Salicera may have her reasons, and even maybe just taken advantage of Astoria’s own ambitions, but she still did not behave properly. You will keep her secret… but only until this mission is over. You stand for truth, after all.
>>
>>6112863
>Salicera may have her reasons, and even maybe just taken advantage of Astoria’s own ambitions, but she still did not behave properly. You will keep her secret… but only until this mission is over. You stand for truth, after all.
difficult stuff. we gotta tell someone and not let this snowball into a bigger problem. something tells me that there's more to it on why they do a hard check on stranders before letting them in. if it was just having cool powers there'd be not much of a problem otherwise.
>>
>>6112863
>Willow has made mistakes, but what would you have done in her place? Stranded on a foreign world, with no family, no friends… and she still joined the right side, even if her Faith is still lacking. Perhaps this can be your true Trial, even before Knighthood… showing her she made the right choice.

I'm glad you're okay at least, QM. Sorry about the bike.

>>6110182 is me.
>>
>>6112863
>Willow has made mistakes, but what would you have done in her place? Stranded on a foreign world, with no family, no friends… and she still joined the right side, even if her Faith is still lacking. Perhaps this can be your true Trial, even before Knighthood… showing her she made the right choice.

I hope you are alright, man. The curse is real. I got headbutted by a fucking cow and kind of fucked my thumb when I fell yesterday, so typing is annoying, lol. Sorry about your bike.
>>
>>6112863
>Willow has made mistakes, but what would you have done in her place? Stranded on a foreign world, with no family, no friends… and she still joined the right side, even if her Faith is still lacking. Perhaps this can be your true Trial, even before Knighthood… showing her she made the right choice.
She told us despite knowing the potential consequences if we turned on her

glad you're ok OP!
>>
>>6112863
>>Willow has made mistakes, but what would you have done in her place? Stranded on a foreign world, with no family, no friends… and she still joined the right side, even if her Faith is still lacking. Perhaps this can be your true Trial, even before Knighthood… showing her she made the right choice.

Glad to hear your alright.
>>
>>6112760
>the accursed V-word
>I'll allow it because she has nice titties.
fun fact: her irl persona is as boing boing as her model and she did and still does lewd content, but no sex, which makes it quite easy to see her "measures" ;)
>>
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>>6112865

vs

>>6112875
>>6112894
>>6112897
(welcome back Ilvermoryfren. hope your thumb is better, cows are no joke)
>>6112975
(good thinking as well. Willow is running a huge risk... even if she's kind of dragging you into peril with her just because you have a cute butt)
>>6112985
(thanks senpai)

vs

>>6112876
(nice pic!)
>>6112890
(interesting reasoning anon. I already hinted something during the conversation between Carnaval and the Stilladìa right in the first thread)

thanks everyone for the care and the well-wishing. I am still a bit out of it but will likely manage an update after getting dinner ready.

>>6113047
ah, life imitates art which imitates art...
>>
>>6112863
>She has been a true friend so far. You can’t judge her actions like you would a member of your own world. You do not like it, but your bonds of friendship come before the bonds you may have towards Astoria di Ottava ora… as long as Willow keeps earning your trust.
>>
>>6113317
Thank you boss. Not as bad but I did go to a place I used to work, know the docs and director. Did an off the books X-ray on myself and I have a small non-displaced scaphoid fracture. Just have to let it heal on its own, nothing they can really do besides a brace. Got my buddy to write a script for some Vicodin, which helps. Just can't type for more than 10 minutes without needing a break; also hard to open twist off caps. Annoying. Been eating steak and burgers since then as vengeance.
>>
>>6113394
thanks for the vote senpai. 2 updates with 9 votes each... I feel blessed.

>>6113432
>spoiler

that's good. I'm also going to eat beef tomorrow, to complete the ritual.

and now, update
>>
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>>6112863

The harbour’s stench reaches Sandora’s nose even from inside the palanquin. Nevertheless pulls on the curtain, checking the outside briefly. The same rundown streets, filled with beggars and armed guards, under a grey sky, the reek of tar and salt and excrement. Ragged seagulls laugh at the Throne’s haggard state. Large stone buildings still stick out of the wooden harbour structures, like forgotten bones from the body of a giant, laid down to die in the mud. Her jade eyes find the only gleam in the dreary day in the shiny muskets the guards carry in their arms, finding safety behind the protection of lead and black powder.

Sandora sneers, letting the curtain fall on the outside world and withdrawing inside the small wooden environment, filled with every sort of plush and soft comfort, as a woman of her power and status could demand.

And most often, she would. Oh, she had spent years in the Borderlands, far and away from anything someone could call comfort. Nobody could judge her wanting to enjoy herself.

Besides, if they did, she could still erase their name off the records. Or, if she felt cheeky, make it appear on certain documents which would mysteriously fall upon the lap of the local law enforcement. Being an Asterite was always a curse, but being a high-ranking one did come with perks.

[cont.]
>>
>>6113470

But for the time being, her mind is filled with the sight past the curtain, with the guards carrying their brand new muskets.
Imported muskets.
Frigéian muskets.

“You are troubled,” says the portly man sitting in front of her, his hands joined on his lap. She winces - but he has always been good at reading her. He’s her employer after all — she couldn’t expect anything less.

“A Power of the world turning to a bunch of fat merchants for its own weapons is hardly a pleasant sight. Even more so if it’s the one paying for your Silt,” she scoffs. “Those muskets may look shiny but I would bet my painted fingers that’s just polished tin and the Frigéian dogs keep the good stuff for themselves.”

“Wouldn’t make for very shrewd merchants if they did otherwise,” the man chuckles. “But there is something else.”
“At least two things,” she sighs. “Rector… you do know this mission is just going to be a huge headache, don’t you? Isn’t that why Carnaval chose me?”

“The Angel of Ansàrra picked our most capable Seat. At least as far as combat capabilities go.”
Sandora rolls her jade eyes.

“Oh, the Gilded Butcher thinks highly of me. That’s some consolation.” She pulls on the curtain once again. The palanquin has started to slow down and they are approaching the pier, where they can start the embarking preparations. Knowing the efficiency of these harbours, it’s probably going to take them the best part of a day.

“And the other thing?” The Rector of the Academia asks, tilting his head. He briefly brushes his fingers against his thick grey moustaches, a gesture she has learned means he’s focused on what kind of answer he can wring out of her.


[cont.]
>>
>>6113471

“I have been checking my notes on these four girls,” she sighs, taking out of her expensive bag a large wrap of paper, her scarred hands looking even paler than usual. “Two of them are just Maduan nobility, not very interesting… but the supposed skirmisher genius has attracted my attention.”

“So now you plan to get some Maduan disciples under your wing? Perhaps this diplomatic effort will be more fruitful than we hoped?”

She shakes her head.
“Carnaval’s type of diplomacy, actually. I would have called this a cleanup operation, but I’m not one to pull strings.”

The Rector chuckles and Sandora rolls her eyes, but she does concede his point.

“Not this time at least… but yes, most of my notes are not about her. There’s a few points about this Salicera girl’s story that do not add up. This may prove to be an interesting encounter yet…” Sandora trails off, waiting for the Rector to pick up on her silence.
When he does, she feels a jolt of youthful giddiness. For a moment, she’s a novice once again, entering his office to present her theories and discoveries about the Borderlands.

“… and is that why half these notes are labelled ‘Argia Candente’ and ‘Saint Bragia Lacresta’?” He asks.

“I knew you would notice. Doesn’t it sound familiar? A country bumpkin, lifted from poverty and obscurity by a powerful figure in the Faith: first Ansàrra, and now Master Delebasse. She doesn’t possess truly remarkable skills, but she’s very determined, and her Faith is truly astounding.” She pauses, even as her jade eyes keep shining, intrigued. “At least, that’s how it is, according to Carnaval. Oh, and she keeps wandering the world doing Ansàrra’s whims, together with a group of three friends, and her latest mission involved… the Seven Sisters.”

“Now that you put it like that, it does sound remarkably similar. So, do you expect she is also going to get murdered by the Stilladìa?” He smirks.

“I do not expect anything, Rector,” she replies, rapping her fingers over the edge of her notes. “Except, perhaps — entertainment.”

hear, hear. someone else noticed a pattern.

[cont.]
>>
>>6113472

# # # # # #


Will you keep my secret?
Willow’s words rattle and echo through your stunned mind.
You are following her into murky waters with this.
Do not do it, you stand for truth! — Says a part of your mind.
She has been a friend, but friendship needs trust! — Says another.
You are certain Salicera has earned that trust.
You may not be so certain with Willow.

And that’s the hard part, but then again you are not in this sort of business chasing simple goals.

Perhaps, this is also the Will of Ansàrra.

Showing Willow she did come to the right conclusion when she tried to become a Knight. Perhaps she may not become the best Knight who has ever lived, as she has stated before; and perhaps her inability to comprehend that Ansàrra is the only one who truly decides where every tassel falls is her greatest weakness.

But you should be there to remind her.

For a girl who got Stranded into another world without food, water, friends or family, she did remarkably well. It’s up to you to extend kindness to her.

“Secrets are never safe,” you state, looking her deep in the eyes. Salicera frowns for a moment, her mouth opens, her lips quiver in uncertainty—

[cont.]
>>
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>>6113474

“Save between friends,” you add in a sigh. “I will keep it. You need not to ask twice.” And maybe this is the first step towards a deeper and more foundational friendship that you could have wished for… with someone you are just now starting to understand. And certainly want to keep understanding more. Besides, Salicera is certainly—
“I knew it!” She squeals, clasping you into a bear hug.
“Ohhhff,” you gasp as her powerful arms squeeze you. She sets her face against your neck, and if you did not know it was impossible, you’d swear you felt the wetness of tears dampen your skin.
“Thank you… oh God… I knew it was going to be you… I just knew it… thank you.”

It feels nice to receive such praise, so you can ignore her slip of the tongue (something about God? Does sound a bit like blasphemy, but you want to give her the benefit of the doubt). You react to her embrace when she does leave you enough room to breathe, and with air rushing back to your head, you can start thinking about something else to say.

>“That does not mean I can trust you just as easily as before. You will need to be honest with me from now on. About anything and everything.”

>“I’m glad you considered me a friend. I’m just giving back what was given. Now… what do we tell the others? Do you think you can share this secret after the mission? After our Trial of Fire perhaps?”

>“Say, about this… how do we deal with Soralisa and Rubida? Because we must tell them, but I want to find a way to ease the reveal… especially for Rubida. We should think about this together during the next few days.”

>And also… [Suggestion]


are we past the 300 mark replies again? and it's barely been three weeks... though I can say I'm glad. as always, thanks for playing. Oh, and please don't mind the hints that you are tracing Saint Bragia's steps. It's probably nothing.
>>
>>6113480
>“That does not mean I can trust you just as easily as before. You will need to be honest with me from now on. About anything and everything.”
>>
>>6113480
>“Say, about this… how do we deal with Soralisa and Rubida? Because we must tell them, but I want to find a way to ease the reveal… especially for Rubida. We should think about this together during the next few days.”
>>
>>6113317
>interesting reasoning anon. I already hinted something during the conversation between Carnaval and the Stilladìa right in the first thread
so Stilly comments how the angel thought she'd know Sally and Argia for her silver hair, so she knows she's not just an prodigy youth althought I dunno if she's certain about her being a Strander. Also it seems like Stilly doesn't hold feelings against Ansarrà, even if she says that's difficult work to make a god obsolete.
>>6113480
>“That does not mean I can trust you just as easily as before. You will need to be honest with me from now on. About anything and everything.”
>>
>>6113480
>“That does not mean I can trust you just as easily as before. You will need to be honest with me from now on. About anything and everything.”
>>
>>6113517
cute pic. thicc thighs save lives and Argia is all about saving people
>>
>>6113796
Indeed
>>
>>6113480
>“That does not mean I can trust you just as easily as before. You will need to be honest with me from now on. About anything and everything.”
>>
>>6113480
>“That does not mean I can trust you just as easily as before. You will need to be honest with me from now on. About anything and everything.”
>>
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>>6113829
this is really cute.

>>6113485
>>6113516
>The Stilladìa not holding feelings against Ansàrra
it's a bit... complicated. not like it's a central matter at the heart of the quest or anything
>>6113517
>>6113829
>>6113833

>need for honesty

>>6113490

>focusing on telling the others first.

thanks for voting. Writing update!
>>
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>>6113480

Salicera’s hug, her touch… it feels just as good as ever. There has been a time when you would have done anything, absolutely anything, to feel part of this group. Now you feel like you would do anything to protect it. Which also means…

“I know I can trust you. I can trust the person who was there with me in the Well, the girl who carried me—“ and you can’t stop yourself from blushing a tad, “all the way from out there. I know I can trust Salicera Fors.”

You feel her jolt even as you keep hugging. It’s clear she knows what’s about to come her way…

“… but I don’t know much about Willow Stark,” you whisper.

She purses her lips, running a hand through her hair as she thinks, her eyes roaming all over your face in a way that makes your heart pick up pace for some reason. There is this… unknown quality to Salicera you have always admired, and now she’s here with you… for you, so close and yet so distant. Whenever you thought you had her figured out she revealed yet another layer to you, and now it turns out she isn’t even who you believed her to be.

This girl…

“I suppose that’s fair,” she sighs. “I’ll try to do my best. I already told you about my greatest fear anyway. A veritable phobia!”

“… is phobia another of those words from your world?”
“Uh… may be. It means ‘a terrible fear’ or something that gives you an irrational fright.”

“Rest assured there are no bees around here.”

“And I hope there won't be in the Treviri Throne lands, either…” she relaxes in your arms, and then pulls you back into another tight hug. “I will do whatever it is in my power to make you trust Willow. It’s still me, just with a few inside jokes and memes added to the mix. Oh God, it’s going to take me years to teach you about the internet…”

[cont.]
>>
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>>6114012

“You are losing me again,” you sigh. “How about we take this one step at a time, please? Just promise to tell me everything I need to know. Your secret is safe with me… as long as you do not plan to sell your soul to the Adversary,” you add, giving her a meaningful look.

Willow chuckles.

“Never! You’d never let me live that down anyway.”

“And for good reasons…”

“I don’t think she’d pay a fair price for my soul either.”

“Sal-Willow!

She laughs, covering her mouth to try and make it silent as her shoulders shake. Her beautiful brown braid wobbles against her strong shoulders. Yes, this is the Salicera you know and that have always admired.

“Oh, it’s so easy to get a rise out of you. That’s part of your charm, actually. I know how deeply you care about this.” She pauses. “Rest assured. The Stilladìa won’t have my soul, not now not ever.”

“That’s reassuring. I’d hate to have to slap you.”

“Remember I can still pin you to the ground even with all your training… Strander-enhanced strength!” Her smile turns a little too sharp for your tastes and you are kind of distracted by the rumble of blood in your ears and by the feeling of Sali…Willow’s chest pressing against your own. She pushes against you, and as you tentatively push back, you feel her muscles tense like iron.

This is, uh— concerning.

>Ask her where her strength comes from. In fact, speaking of trust… is this the only ability being a Strander granted her?

>She hasn’t even really told you where she comes from. It’s clear she doesn’t want to talk about it. What is this… inter-nest she spoke about?
>You wonder if Willow’s… difficulties with Sanctions and some of the most intimate and humbling aspects of the Faith come from her background… you should talk about this.

>[Suggestion, question, info, teaching Argia about the terrible disease known as ‘ligma’]

Argia is too pure to know about the internet. she wouldn't last a day on a certain Vietnamese basket-weaving forum... though I have a bad feeling she'd like /pol/, for all the wrong reasons. As always, thanks for playing. Sorry for the smol update.
>>
>>6114014
>Kiss the girl!
When a chick pushes her breasts up against your chest and smiles dangerously while getting up in your face, it's whats he wants. Poor Argia may not know that, but she should surely know from last time that a kiss can symbolize closeness and trust.

Then, when we cool off, we can discuss...
>You wonder if Willow’s… difficulties with Sanctions and some of the most intimate and humbling aspects of the Faith come from her background… you should talk about this.
What's religion like on Dirtworld, Wheelow?
>>
>>6114014
>>You wonder if Willow’s… difficulties with Sanctions and some of the most intimate and humbling aspects of the Faith come from her background… you should talk about this.
>>
>>6114014
>you are kind of distracted by the rumble of blood in your ears and by the feeling of Sali…Willow’s chest pressing against your own. She pushes against you, and as you tentatively push back, you feel her muscles tense like iron.
seems like someone is feeling cold

>Ask her where her strength comes from. In fact, speaking of trust… is this the only ability being a Strander granted her?
as of now, she's only showed the increased strength

>spoiler
I think she'd me smart enough to not get hooked there, specially with the blacked thread spam making her quit it quickly. and perhaps make her go for /gif/ and /h/ instead ? we'll never know
>>
>>6114014
>>She hasn’t even really told you where she comes from. It’s clear she doesn’t want to talk about it. What is this… inter-nest she spoke about?
>>
>>6114014
>Ask her where her strength comes from. In fact, speaking of trust… is this the only ability being a Strander granted her?
>>
>>6114021
>She hasn’t even really told you where she comes from. It’s clear she doesn’t want to talk about it. What is this… inter-nest she spoke about?
>>
>>6114014
>Ask her where her strength comes from. In fact, speaking of trust… is this the only ability being a Strander granted her?
>>
>>6114014
>…Willow’s chest pressing against your own. She pushes against you, and as you tentatively push back, you feel her muscles tense like iron.

try not to spill spaghetti oh god it's everywhere
>>
>>6114014
>She hasn’t even really told you where she comes from. It’s clear she doesn’t want to talk about it. What is this… inter-nest she spoke about?
>>
>>6114021
>that suggestion

but that's forbidden love, anon

>>6114021
>>6114023

(ask about her religious impairments + kiss)

vs

>>6114032
>>6114150
>>6114419

(ask about her min-maxed character sheet)

vs

>>6114103
>>6114404
>>6114514

(ask her if she knows Candice)


tied replies but I don't really care
>>
>>6114638
You’re gonna combine those or you’re rolling ?
>>
>>6114638
>forbidden love
Even among "maduan dykes" like us? Or Ansarran Candeans and seemingly-irreligious Americans
>>
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>>6114648
combine these in a few updates, though for now you'll get two maybe three posts

>>6114649

kek; remember that's a heathen expression

# # # # # #

>>6114014

You slowly relax your arms, allowing Willow to push further, if she really wants to.
But she stops just a few palms away from your face. She’s still grinning, though. It’s clear she has made her point clear.

“A-About that,” you whisper, racking your mind for something to say… the strength in her arms gives you an idea. “And being honest with me… is enhanced strength everything you received from being a Strander? Or is there something else I should know?”

She blinks, her eyes leaving your face to focus on her arms.

“Not that i know. Strength, reflexes, speed. That’s what I have noticed. My body is pretty much the same… save I really developed where it counts,” she adds with a smirk, pressing her chest against yours once again. “Though I see the natives are no joke either.”

“… oh.” You blush at the implication. Well, Rubida as well seemed to praise your bust. That’s all Master’s and his training diet’s fault! “Well… I… ooof,” you sigh, rolling your eyes up in frustration, away from Salicera’s face and towards the planetary ring.

What’s making your heart beat so fast? You can’t deny it… she’s pinning you down and pressing her body against you, you can feel the warmth of her soft thighs and yet strong arms and torso pressing against you. Willow is a creature of contrasts, or contradictions. Maduan and yet Strander. Soft and firm.

And she’s making you worry and also making you want to be there for her… your mind goes back to the other night when she pressed her lips against yours. Your throat tightens up with the memory and your stomach coils. You were important to her. Still are.

How you kept brushing your fingers against your lips… yet that was, once again, Salicera’s kiss.

Not Willow’s.

[cont.]
>>
>>6114695

“You feel nice,” she whispers. “Everything you do, and everything you are. You have a destiny, Argia. I want to be there for it. And I want you to be there for my own story.”

“I don’t know much about this so-called destiny,” you sigh. You two must have a long conversation about her religious failings someday…
“I just try to follow the will of Ansàrra. That’s all.”

She hesitates, but then shakes her head and smiles.

“I see. Perhaps another time… would… you…” her hand lets go and her thumb brushes against your cheek, stopping just an inch before the corner of your lip.

“I… perhaps. But…” your heart beats so fast you almost don’t feel your own thoughts, “another night. I want to make sure what I’m doing is right. Right under the sky and right over the earth.”

It’s a clerical expression, and to your surprise she seems to understand. Willow nods.

“Okay.”
“Hm?”

“Oh. Yeah, it’s like… it means ‘alright’. I agree. From back home.”

“Okkhei,” you reply, trying it on your own lips.

“Hey, you are getting better at it,” she chuckles, helping you stand up again.
“I asked you to be honest,” you pull her into an embrace. “I recognise a lie when I hear it. Willow.”

“Yes…” she relaxes into your embrace. “I suppose you do.” A pause. “Thanks for being here for me, Argia. I’ll make it worth your while. I promise.”

You frown. It’s not about it being worth your time… you must be patient. She’ll understand in time. You’ll make sure of it.

“Just stay with us,” you remind her.

“I’ll stay. With you.” She sighs, rubbing her hands over your back. “You have no idea what this means for me. Perhaps in time you’ll understand.”


[cont.]
>>
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>>6114697

Right. You suppose, from her viewpoint, she’s the one who must explain all sorts of things to you.
This is going to be one of those things that will give you a permanent headache… but Salicera — Willow — is worth it. You want to believe it is so.

I told you — you were fucking wrong,” she whispers, so low you almost believe you imagined it.

“Hm?”

“Sorry. Just thinking out loud. A part of me still cannot believe this. I’m glad that part was wrong, that’s all.”

“Hmm.” You relax again in her embrace.

Trust… you have to give her complete trust ere you demand it.
Each house is built but one stone at a time.

“I’m getting a little worried the others will wake up,” you say, pulling away. “I’d rather wrap this up, at least the confusing parts. Speaking of which, what was that thing you mentioned form your world? That intern-nest…?

Willow winces. An uneasy smile appears on her beautiful face.

“Oh God. This isn’t gonna be an easy one. Especially the part about that Taiwanese basket-weaving forum I used to post on…”

You blink.

Not an easy one indeed, you guess…

[cont.]


thanks for playing. I'll split this update between now and tomorrow morning - sadly still need my beauty sleep. I did not mean to make Willow an explicit 'channer at the beginning, but then I remembered this update comes out on October 1st... so happy birthday anon. (Willow was still most likely just a tourist). we'll see the rest of this update in a few hours. As always thanks for being here. I'm enjoying this more than I thought.
>>
>>6114695
>Strength, reflexes, speed
Hmm...no, there's definitely something more to it.
Maybe some kind of immunities instead of more active effects. Could explain why someone so heathenous can do the fire trials unscathed.
>>
>>6114704
>“I told you — you were fucking wrong,” she whispers, so low you almost believe you imagined it.
pls don't be the worm/sister thing who said this to her
>>
>>6114704
Happy birthday 4chan, and thanks for running to our noble QM!
>>
>>6114727
>fire immunity

she, just like the rest of you, has yet to pass through the Trial of Fire to become a proper Knight. What happened so far was Salicera/Willow managed to slip between the cracks of bureaucracy and clerical procedure, but the Trial of Fire awaits. That's not something she can fake anyway, because it connects directly to Ansàrra.

She got scott-free for now precisely because she has not been put under proper scrutiny yet.

>>6114754

Willow said that line -- to -- the worm. Remember how it kept insinuating Argia would betray her at the end of last thread and Willow's distraught reaction to the possibility?

>>6114762
thanks mom love you too
>>
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>>6114704

Feeling adventurous, you swing your legs over the balcony’s marble parapet, looking at the pearly shore of the Sea of Salina.

“It’s so different,” you mumble, watching the white houses, capped in blue and gold, leading way to the wooden piers and the white shores and the blue waves. Unlike the previous days filled with rain and overcast skies, the morning is clear. A bank of fluffy white clouds lingers in the distance, like wandering ships or perhaps scattered castles, a forgotten bastion that will disappear within hours.

The Sea of Salina stretches in every direction, swallowing every gaze. It is so ponderously large. Back when you used to have a home, you could still see the hills and towns encroaching the lake, no matter how far off you pushed your gaze. There are no islands, no blooming red reeds, no island of the Echorian…

There’s only the vast blueness, and the scattered golden light of the Sun-Birther.

“I hope it is a good kind of different,” Rubida sighs, opening the door with her shoulder and stepping into the balcony. She holds a large tray filled with fruit, milk, pastries and every other delicacy this small harbour town can offer four tentative Knights on a mission. Which makes even Rubida’s strong arms tense with effort.

“It is a bit overwhelming. I remember living in a place where the sea was just a part of the environment not all of it. It will take me some time to get used to this.”

“We have a few days to spend on a ship anyway.” She sets the tray on the marble table, helping herself to a cup of grapes and apple slices. “The milk is warm, you may want to have a cup before it gets cold.”

[cont.]
>>
>>6115020

“Thanks,” you reply, swinging your legs back — Rubida’s deep blue eyes follow the movement but you don’t say anything — and sitting at the table with her. “It was kind of you to bring this.”

“Oh, please, Candente. Now you will start thanking me for every little thing I do,” she scoffs, rolling her beautiful eyes.

You two sit in silence as Rubida picks grape after grape and you drink the warm, sweet milk. It’s thick and smooth, much better than any you had back in your homeland. Products of the Holy Land hold a special quality to them.

Wonder what happened when Willow first drank milk.

The other night, when she told you a few more details about her homelands — or rather, as you noticed, about what was there rather than her past on Dirt, no Earth — she mentioned how most food came from towns and cities rather than the countryside. She spoke of shiny mirrors you could converse with, but which did not really understand your words and who had to be coaxed into producing a proper response. She spoke of people talking to each other through immense distances, and steel birds that take flight with no winds to carry them, and carriages with fire in their bellies and how her people found ways to seed the sun…

… it was all far too overwhelming. By the time you went back to sleep, you felt like Willow really came from a wretched hive, and yet… you wouldn’t have minded taking a look at that world.

You lift your gaze from the milk froth to the planetary ring.

The world with the Moon.

As you reasoned, she does come from a place where nights are much darker. Hence why she can see so well in the dark, but bright lights dazzle her.

And now she’s here with you.
Sleeping in her own room, to be precise. Straddling her pillow and laying on her belly, a line of drool falling from her slack mouth.

Your cheeks prickle at the memory. You just wanted to check on Willow, maybe ask her to join you for the morning prayer — but she seemed to need her sleep, so you did not wake her up.

“How is your wound,” Rubida asks, pulling you away from your spell. As she often does.

“It’s better,” you reply running your free hand over the middle of your chest, your fingers skipping against the Cameo. “I don’t feel any different.”

“That’s reassuring.”
“It seems Soralisa is also recovering?” You would have wanted to turn that into a statement, but…

“Somewhat,” Rubida sighs through her nose. “I spent the night with her. She is fidgety, which does mean she is tense, but at least she is starting to use her fingers again. All will come as the Sun-Birther prefers.”
“Always,” you agree. “Still, this is good news, after a fashion.” You take a sip of milk and Rubida’s eyes flash.

“So, when’s the wedding?”

[cont.]
>>
>>6115021

You spit milk and do a double-take as Rubida’s smile turns into a grin.

“It’s so easy with you, Candente. And yet teasing you has never felt more rewarding. A miracle romance the heavens, truly.”
“I don’t… I don’t know what you are talking about.”

“Lying doesn’t suit you. And most importantly, you are terrible at it. Do you really think I did not catch on it? First there was whatever happened during the night of the festival…” You gulp, drying yourself with a small towel. So she did know what happened there, when Willow set her lips agains you. “And then you spend half your watch smooching behind the cypresses, the other night?” She crosses her fingers over her chest, giving you one of her skeptical, lingering looks.

“I-uh-we… we didn’t… smooch.”

“Whatever you did, Candente, is not my business. What is my business though, is reminding you that perhaps you two should keep your effusions for when we are not on a mission on Carnaval’s behest.”

Oh.

You blink. So that is what she is worried about?

[cont.]
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>>6115022

“I’m not going to treat—” you catch yourself almost saying ‘Willow’ right there. “… to treat Salicera any different just because we… uh… we… uhm, she kissed me. Oh, Sun-Birther.” You cover your face with your hands, blushing redder than the apples on the tray. “I did not know what to do.”
“Such a common occurrence,” Rubida chuckles. “It has served you well so far… this was just a reminder, Candente. Soralisa already has to deal with debilitating injuries, and I don’t want to have to deal with anything worse. Especially not in heathen lands, with… Asterites,” she almost spits the last word out. “Just a reminder, really. Keep your head on your shoulders, Candente. I never thought I would say this, but I trust you to get us out of there alive, if something goes wrong. The Sun-Birther apparently holds you in high regard. High enough we may be able to run on your coattails… if you are not too lost in your daydreams, may they be romantic or not.”

“That’s not the way I see it. I am not anything special, I don’t want to feel like I’m anything special either—”

“Oh, Candente, blessed be your countryside bumpkin heart,” Rubida pats your hand with hers. “That is precisely what makes you special. You doofus.” She glances at your head. “Now let’s finish breakfast, you put your hood on, and then we can go get some proper equipment from the local Temple of Flame. The influence of the Dell’Obertengo family stretches wide, I’ll let you know.” A pause. “Oh, and if you need help with keeping Salicera happy, you know…” she smirks, jutting her tongue out of her lips for a moment, “… I was told I make for a great teacher.”

You feel weak in your knees.

>You finish breakfast and leave for the local Temple with Rubida. Let’s check what kind of armour and armaments they can give you…

>You decide to invite Soralisa for breakfast as well and check if she also wants to come with you to the Temple.

>This being a harbour town, perhaps you can also go to the docks to check if you can find any news on the Heathen Lands and the way you are going to get on that boat…

>[Suggestion]

thanks for your patience. this was a long update all things considered. And did you really think Rubida would not find out about your little tryst? as if you did not have enough things to worry about...
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>>6115023
>>You finish breakfast and leave for the local Temple with Rubida. Let’s check what kind of armour and armaments they can give you…
>>
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>>6115023
>You finish breakfast and leave for the local Temple with Rubida. Let’s check what kind of armour and armaments they can give you…
>>
>>6115023
>Oh, and if you need help with keeping Salicera happy, you know…” she smirks, jutting her tongue out of her lips for a moment, “… I was told I make for a great teacher.”
“What if Rubida was called Freakida ?”. She really has no shame. First the teacher and now the student too ? Would this be considered an indirect oyakodon ?

>You decide to invite Soralisa for breakfast as well and check if she also wants to come with you to the Temple.
>>
>>6115023
>>You finish breakfast and leave for the local Temple with Rubida. Let’s check what kind of armour and armaments they can give you…
>>
>>6115023
>>You finish breakfast and leave for the local Temple with Rubida. Let’s check what kind of armour and armaments they can give you…
>>
>>6115023
>You decide to invite Soralisa for breakfast as well and check if she also wants to come with you to the Temple.
>>
>>6115023
>You decide to invite Soralisa for breakfast as well and check if she also wants to come with you to the Temple.
Frens enjoying renewed frenship. :)
>>
>>6115023
>You decide to invite Soralisa for breakfast as well and check if she also wants to come with you to the Temple.
>>
>>6115023
>You finish breakfast and leave for the local Temple with Rubida. Let’s check what kind of armour and armaments they can give you…
>>
>>6115034
nice! especially the evil version of the sports bra
>>6115064
lovely shading
>>6115224
>>6115237
>>6115757

just!Rubida

>>6115120
>Freakida

absolute kek
>>6115352
>>6115420
absolutely
>>6115745

get Soralisa and finish breakfast

will be writing in about one hour, after dinner. I'd say 60 more minutes for any further voting. thanks so far
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>>6115885
>after dinner

Wait... are you a Bong? Oh god I've reading a story written by a British person. I feel so unclean!
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>>6115893

>a britbong

I've never been so insulted in my entire life.


a fucking britbong... BAKA
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>>6115913
Okay, thank Ansarra, I didn't want to drop this quest.

Just a joke, of course. Even if you were part of that class of sub-human filth I would still play.
>>
>>6115893
>Wait... are you a Bong?
dude, he already said where he's from. hint: the main language being used in this quest.
>>
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>>6115919
>I'd still play

thanks senpai

>>6115023

Still feeling a little out of it from Rubida’s revelation about her supposed… skills, you put on a set of proper clothing and make sure to cover your hair with the hood, hiding them from sight. Rubida instead dresses in a new long white dress that highlights her status… and does hug her hips quite closely.

With echoes of Willow’s offer of a kiss, you try to collect your wits and follow her into town.

“Something bothering you again? We did leave enough of a breakfast for the other two, didn’t we? Do you want to see if we can find some other kind of pastry or fruit to bring them?”
“Uh, no it’s fine. I think Soralisa will be fine. And Salicera as well, she’s a big girl.”

“Isn’t that true,” Rubida smirks, sending a glance to your chest, which you promptly ignore.

Once you leave the temporary residence offered to Knights, the rest of the small town opens up to you. It’s a quaint, well-kept place, as every other settlement you have seen since coming here. People look healthy, well-fed and they are dressing nicely. You notice how even the farmer and the dock-worker, the tanner and the librarian all seem to have something to say to each other, some kind word to share. Even the cows, sheep and dogs filling the streets seem more well-behaved than they would have been back in your homeland.

“They will like it here,” you sigh, brushing your fingers against a wooden rail, enjoying even the green leaves of the weed seem to grow so easily. There is a certain laziness to Madua, like the entire country was a huge slumbering cat, its talons kept well-hidden… at least while it is asleep.

You are one of those talons.

“Your family?” Rubida asks, a quizzical look in her blue eyes. “If you think so. I’m sure being closer to the sea may make you feel more welcomed, but my offer stands.”
“Oh, no, I just meant the country as a whole. Hm, I can’t even send them letters too often. Not even sure they would reach them, in the Landing Strip. But I’m sure they would love to work in your vineyard.”

“It’s not my vineyard, Candente, it’s let to us to administrate and keep,” she shrugs. “So that is what you plan to do once all this is over? Just retire and get used to some sweaty manual work under the sun?” A curious grin spreads on her lips. “Because I could get used to the idea of watching you and your family working for the better glory of Ansàrra while I enjoy the view…”


Rubida keeps being thirsty. for wine?

[cont.]
>>
>>6115998

“W-What happened to being a friend?”

“Nothing!” She gasps, setting her splayed hand against her chest, as if scandalised. “I just find it comforting. The thought of seeing you sweat your ass off under the sun… your proper place, Candente, no matter your skill with a sword.”
“I-I suppose we will see…”
“Teasing will forever be part of the deal, mind you,” she adds with a snicker.

“Where are we going anyway?” You say, trying to veer the conversation elsewhere from the thought of Rubida watching your tanned back. “I thought the Temple of Flame would be in the town centre.”

“Ah, Candente, you and your ignorance, how typical for a country bumpkin,” she scoffs, playfully flicking your shoulder. “This is a harbour. The Temple is always by the sea.”

And right as you turn the corner and leave the town behind, there it is: hanging by a solitary cliff while the rest of the white-sand beach stretches in every direction, the wooden piers leading to boats and skiffs and sails lazily floating back and forth, the white hemisphere of the Temple of Flame welcomes you.

[cont.]
>>
>>6116001

You are not out of shape, but climbing the steep staircase leading to the Temple’s entrance still leaves you a bit out of breath. For once, Rubida is in the same condition, perhaps even a bit worse, so she doesn’t mention anything. The door leading to the inside is already open, and an attendant is waiting for you already, her body and face completely covered by a long grey tunic.

“We’re… ah,” you take a deep breath. “We’re the trainees who—”

“We were informed,” the attendant gives you a very slight bow, and a deeper one to Rubida. “The Angel of Ansàrra shared instructions with us. You may come in. Please leave your shoes outside,” she adds, addressing you.

“She knows,” Rubida interrupts, leaving the attendant stunned at her harsh tone. “She is our Vanguard, and the one Carnaval entrusted with this mission. Personally.” It’s her turn to give the attendant a bow, so slight that it looks more like an insult than anything else. “And she has shown her valour a few times already. By performing an awe-inspiring molten spring. And by facing one of the Seven Sisters. I’m sure she knows protocol.”

“I— I see,” she hesitates. She withdraws inside the Temple, leaving you more than enough room to take off your boots, just as Rubida does the same.

“How do you do it?” You ask. “Being so scary?”

“Wouldn’t it better to call it… charmingly diplomatic?” She grins, a glint in her blue eyes. She flicks her black hair (back to its full, ink-black glory) and you walk inside.

Rubida also keeps being a bad bitch.

[cont.]
>>
>>6116004

Luckily, or perhaps due to Rubida’s interaction, another attendant shows you around, leading you downstairs. He holds a large cup of burning oil which casts a kind and gentle glow against the white walls. The far-off murmur of the waves reaches your ears from deep inside the stone. It’s, peaceful, even… pleasant. Most Temples of Flames are, but you did not expect this to be so particular, given how every corridor is tight and winding, the staircase going down in a narrow spiral.

“We don’t want to impose,” you add. “Just wanted to check if you have anything you can lend us, and in our size. We lost most of our equipment on our way back from—”

“No imposing,” he reassures you. The Flame priest has a pleasant, brass-like voice that echoes between the narrow walls. “You will understand soon, rest assured.”

“Oh? Oh— I see,” you reply, without really understanding. But if they tell you that, they must have a reason. Your left hand reaches for the round wall, and feel a strange hum coming from the stone, as if from the pipe of a huge organ. Maybe it’s just the waves…

“Ah, that would be our Egidarma.
“You have one here?” Rubida’s eyebrows raise.

“Just a small one. We seldom use it, save for demonstrations when the heathen vessels try to encroach on our waters.”

“What’s an Egidarma?”

Rubida gives you one of her smirks.

“Can we show her, later? And I bet our two friends would love to see it as well. Salicera especially.”

Something that could interest Willow? Intriguing.


an Egidarma is probably some kind of stuffed toy, I'd bet
>>
>>6116006

As you reach the end of the narrow staircase, you find yourself almost bumping against Rubida, who doesn’t even mention it. There has been a time when you would have attracted her ire for such a slight, but now she doesn’t care at all.

Master told you to find your water, but you wonder if with Rubida… it’s more a matter of friends forged in fire. All things considered, you feel a small ember of gratefulness burn in your stomach. She’s a good friend indeed. If a bit… bothering at times.
But you know she means well.
“It’s here. This is not our armoury, but we decided it would be better for safekeeping.” The priest walks inside a small circular room, filled with crates and other strange shapes you can’t make out in the dim light. Willow probably could…

Then he taps twice on the wall and a ring of golden flames light up, showing the contents of the room. Rubida gasps.

Oh, you understand, you certainly understand, now.

“Carnaval brought these to our Temple with her own hands. We were a bit overwhelmed, at first… treasures from the floating palace itself!” He chuckles beneath his grey veil. “But I’m sure you will be able to make good use of them.”

The golden light reveals a series of items, shining brightly…

>It’s four sets of armours, lined brass and made of exquisite tetracerarmide plaques. Like your old brigandine, but these are of much, much higher quality.

>It’s a metal box lined in velvet, where four hexagonal amulets rest, each of them emblazoned with a different symbol. These must have been carved specifically for your mission.

>It’s a wooden rack of weapons, holding a sword, an axe, a staff and a shield… it seems Carnaval has a better understanding of your style of fighting than you thought.

thanks for playing. these few future updates may allow me to work a bit with a concept I've been playing for the past twenty years. inspiration is a funny thing. See you soon.
>>
>>6115957
I do not recall him saying he was Italian; I thought he might just be a Pastaboo. I mean, I know some French; doesn't make me a surrender monkey and his english is basically perfect, like a native speaker.

>>6116004
>spoiler

There is a good reason she is my favorite of the girl squad. Stilly still has my heart and probably my soul but still, a Rubi is fine too.

>>6116016
Nice. In my heart I am but a simple loot goblin.

>It’s four sets of armours, lined brass and made of exquisite tetracerarmide plaques. Like your old brigandine, but these are of much, much higher quality.
>>
>>6116016
>It’s four sets of armours, lined brass and made of exquisite tetracerarmide plaques. Like your old brigandine, but these are of much, much higher quality.
>>
>>6116016
>It’s four sets of armours, lined brass and made of exquisite tetracerarmide plaques. Like your old brigandine, but these are of much, much higher quality.
Putting the Knight in Knight
>>6116022
>I do not recall him saying he was Italian; I thought he might just be a Pastaboo. I mean, I know some French; doesn't make me a surrender monkey and his english is basically perfect, like a native speaker.
hmm, maybe it was only in the qtg server
>>
>>6116070
>hmm, maybe it was only in the qtg server

Ah, maybe. Don't do discord.
>>
>>6116016
>It’s a metal box lined in velvet, where four hexagonal amulets rest, each of them emblazoned with a different symbol. These must have been carved specifically for your mission.
I'm curious about this option most of all, though armor is also fine and perhaps more practical.
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>>6116022
>she is my favourite

Damn it, I knew she was too powerful
>>6116062
>>6116070
3 for bling kings (queens)

>>6116219
Interesting opinion.


I’d say 3 more hours for voting. Not sure if I’ll be able to do an update tonight though, it depends on certain circumstances. hope I can be there. Thanks for voting so far.

Pic somewhat unrelated but I liked the tits so you get it no matter what.
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>>6116453
Argia Alter

Now that is a hot idea.
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>>6116016
>It’s four sets of armours, lined brass and made of exquisite tetracerarmide plaques. Like your old brigandine, but these are of much, much higher quality.
>>
Caught myself thinking about how you absolute buffoons passed up the blindglass weapon in the first thread.
God I wish I was here back during that vote.
You fucked up. You suboptimal MONKEYS. Swords aren't even a primary weapon! They're sidearms! AUUUUGH I'M STILL SO ANGRY I COULD PUNCH OUT MY DRYWALL
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>>6116480
Yeah, passing up the "fuck you" material weapon was pretty silly. Oh well, war ceramic is still pretty good and now we get to upgrade, presumably, at some point.
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>>6116480
I did like being an axe girl.
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>>6116476
>Argia Alter
>Now that is a hot idea.
Isn’t that basically Willow ?
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>>6116550
Nah. Argia Alter must retain silver hair, be kind of forward with seggs stuff, vaguely evil, show off big tiddies, and take an active role against the "merchants". TMD and she will lead it.
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>>6116016
>It’s four sets of armours, lined brass and made of exquisite tetracerarmide plaques. Like your old brigandine, but these are of much, much higher quality.
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>>6116561
>Nah. Argia Alter must retain silver hair, be kind of forward with seggs stuff, vaguely evil, show off big tiddies, and take an active role against the "merchants".
Willow would do most of those, minus the hair, killing merchants and the exhibitionism
>TMD and she will lead it.
but wouldn't an evil Argia support them instead ?
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>>6116476
>>6116561
>>6116678

it's your fucking fault...

>>6116016

# # # # # #

Unless you know where to look, the harbour city of Zena is no place for a meeting. The docks are too busy, a circus for ants where figures covered in black soot from the furnaces and the smithy and the warehouses carry and ship goods hither and tither throughout the coastal part of the Throne, either flowing north closer to the capital city, or south-west to Tramontana, the rebellious underbelly that already tried to rear its ugly head against the Throne, and paid the price for it.

Zena, a city of commerce and intrigue, indeed, but where magic and Asterites were scarce, managed to get out of the Eldritch War better than most others. Since then, administrators and bureaucrats have pretended to look the other way when it comes to smuggling and other unsavoury activities, which only take the blink on an eye.

Here, amidst the cloudy banks of a wooden pier, a heavy moneybag swiftly exchanges hands, followed by a baby held in tight crimson ribbons, never to be recovered. There, a flash of steel and a puff of Frigéian blackpowder signal the end of a deal, the bang, gasp and watery echoes of a body hitting the water hidden by the laughs of the seagulls and the horns of the ships. In this place, things do happen so fast that there is no time to sit down and have a nice conversation with a friend.

Unless, once again, you know where to look.

And the silver-haired figure, cloaked in shimmering grey, certainly seems to know. She jumps out of a winding tunnel, a bellowing hole of rotten wood and rusty bars, excavated in the bowels of the docks by generations of smugglers and shantymen. She’s grateful for their work. The underwater facility holds back the tides thanks to thick iron walls, which creak and groan like the mandibles of a giant haunted by an ill tooth. Saltwater drops fall all around her, mixed with grease, oil, and the secrets of a city in a hurry.

She is quite different. She has learned how to move, how to glide effortlessly. Thus, she approaches the underwater tavern with slow, deliberate movements that highlight the delightful fullness of her body and her wobbling chest; dozens of eyes, some of them real, some of them dull pebbles attached to a mariner’s tanned skull, follow her enticing curves, forgetting all about the geometric edges of the steel, and stolen tetracerarmide blades that rest beneath.

“Nice tits,” groans one of the smugglers, spitting on the floor, as if to add to the dripping saltwater.

[cont.]
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>>6116773

She grins, her sharp blue eyes glistening.

“Just the tits?” She chuckles, enjoying the glint of interest in the guys’ eyes. At another time she would enjoy drawing him along for a bit of fun. By the end of the night, she’d be a few sghei richer and he’d be one liver poorer, but this is not the right moment to indulge.

“Oh, that’s just the start…” he grins, and is about to take a step towards her, when one of his companions grasps him by his shoulder.
“Wait. Look.” He points at the locks of silver hair sticking out of her hood. The smuggler goes pale and looks away, spitting on the floor again.

She pouts. Sometimes she wonders if she shouldn’t dye her hair… it’s become a bit of a calling card. Sometimes it spoils the fun.

As she gets ready to leave him behind, she hears a wail. There’s a womanly figure, hunched over by the entrance, holding out a empty hand. Something in it seems familiar, even if she’s covered head to toe in grey, dirty rags. She holds in her lap the contorted shape of a wailing lamb. The poor creature’s eyes bulging out of its misshapen head, its torso contorted to an S-shape from some malformation, scrawny limbs and bent hooves hooked against its matted fur. Probably she keeps it to attract the rich patrons’ attention.

She scoffs and throws a silver coin or two into the woman’s palm.

Then she steps past the entrance, and the club welcomes her with its music, its perfumes and its atmosphere, so different from the one above. Zena may be a bustling city of trades and filth, but its underbelly holds, just like the ugliest of clams, the most beautiful of pearls.

Amidst alabaster walls, filigree curtains and golden chandeliers, the club reveals more hidden figures like her, sitting and talking, chatting and drinking. Some of them wear masks, but it’s a pointless affectation. Everyone knows each other here.

“Madama Candente,” says a cute valet girl, dressed in a red dress that does very nice things to her chest, holding out a hand. “Your cloak, if you were so kind.”

[cont.]
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>>6116776

“This is the only place where I allow someone to take something away from me,” she chuckles darkly, savouring the light trembling in the girl’s fingers. “But perhaps, there will be a follow-up to it. If you are good, and if I’m in a good mood,” she adds, setting a light kiss on the back of the girl’s hand, who gulps excitedly, her cheeks flushing red.

Allowing herself a smile, she glides on her feet, crossing over the smoky salon, checking out if she can see any new face. Once she even spotted some of those stuck-up priests from Madua… traveling here to the Throne Lands for venture and evangelism. Or heresy.

But there’s nobody more interesting tonight than the tall, blonde and jade-eyed Asterite sitting at the table down to the left, conspicuously checking out a pile of hand-written notes. She isn’t even wearing her gloves tonight, showing off her scarred hands, the webs of thin pearl-like creases reaching all the way to her wrists, like ill-shaped spiders hanging off her hands.

Even as she keeps her smile unfazed, a small part of her stomach coils in unease. Asterites always gave her the creeps. Something about the way they could turn into a burst of cancerous magic that would make the little lamb outside the very picture of health.

Still, for as long as she has known her, Sandora Mirari has kept herself together.

“You are late,” the blonde points out, giving her a stern look with her jade eyes.

“Sorry, teach,” she replies, making the Asterite scoff in annoyance. Her position as Eleventh Seat would almost be enough to guarantee a table at this place, but Sandora is a well-known figure in the Throne’s underworld because of her ability to make certain numbers and words disappear, or suddenly appear, from certain very important tomes, none the wiser.

She may just be the most dangerous woman in the establishment.
Besides the one with the silver hair and the smile like a sickle, of course.


[cont.]
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>>6116779
“I’m sure you kept busy in my absence,” she adds, shifting her blue gaze towards the notebooks open before the Asterite’s hands. With a sigh from the blonde woman, the scribbled notes and ink on the page squiggles and shifts, turning into straight lines and then dots, concealing any meaning

“Nothing that may concern you. Or your ilk.”

“Now you wound me,” she chuckles, leaning against the chair. She’s full in her element now, portraying her character to the best of her abilities. She even pushes her sizeable rack forward, displaying her plunging cleavage, so different from the Asterite’s flat chest, just to annoy her. It’s what someone in complete control would do. Argia likes to think that she has learned from the best — and her Patron is the best among the best… even if she is a bitch.

“I’d rather not to,” Sandora replies, crossing her fingers over the table, displaying her the back of her scarred hands.

“Alright, sorry, sorry. I’ll write my apology letter to the Academia soon enough. Now, can we please go on? I may have an appointment with a cute wardrobe attendant as soon as we are finished here.”

The Asterite sneers and mutters something that suspiciously sounds like ‘dykes’.

“I won’t keep you more than necessary. The company is hardly a pleasure anyway.” The blonde taps her tanned and scarred fingers on the notebook — the ink turns into a face, precisely detailed, like a master engraver’s work. “This is your mark this time.”
“Looks Maduan,” Argia quips, noticing the robes and the symbol of Ansàrra.
“We think she’s a Strander, actually,” the Asterite sighs. “Salicera Fors. A promising new Knight of Ansàrra.”
“Ah, that’s why she has such a pretty smile on that sun-loving face,” Argia adds, pointing to the frowning portrait.

“I’ll let you grade her face’s beauty as much as you’d like. The Throne would just be happy with her head.”

“Oh, and what might have this cutie done to upset the Emperor so much?”
“She’s a zealot. Causing unrest in Madua, calling for a holy war against the heathens on the other side of the sea. Throwing the Frigéian merchants into the Sea, and their friends as well.”

“Ah,” Argia clicks her tongue. “Cute and crazy. But I’m sure the big lady upstairs won’t rock the boat. Lady Sunshine hasn’t done so in six hundred years. Why should she start now?”

“The Throne has no answer to this question. It would prefer to not have to answer it at all.”

“Understood,” Argia grins. “Well, if she’s a Strander… this is going to cost you.”

[cont.]
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>>6116782

“Name it.”

“A Maduan witch…” Argia makes a show of thinking about it, lifting a glass to her lips. In her hand, the glass bursts into a whirlwind of sparkles that somehow still manage to hold the liquid inside.

The Asterite shakes her head, but what can she do? Displaying her power helps her with negotiations. And, as her Patron keeps saying, advertising is the soul of business. Even more so for the business of souls.

Argia recomposes the glass into a perfect spiral, like some alchemical equipment, and sips the amber liquor from the tip.

“Hmm. Tangy. Eight thousand, by the way. Half upfront.”

“This is ridiculous.”

“So is your request.”

“The Throne…”

“… would have asked one of its Crows if it thought they could do it.” She allows herself a scoff. “Instead, they went to ask the best one they could find. My offer stands. You can accept it now, or you can do so after your assassins fail and you are on the precipice of all-out war with the Holy Land. That’s going to be fun.”

“I will pass your terms on,” Sandora sighs. Argia smiles, because she knows she has it.

“Always a pleasure doing business with the Emperor,” she mockingly bows her head. “Can I keep the portrait? I’d like to study it. She’s a cute girl, this Salicera she has… something. Something exotic. Don’t you think?”

“Stop asking me these questions,” the Asterite replies, standing up and collecting her coat. It’s a beautiful piece of embroidery, fit for an Eleventh Seat.
Argia could probably buy it with what she earns in a single day.

Starless Night, it’s good to be rich.

This is something Argia’s family, blessed be their vintner souls, never truly understood. The lure and power of gold… and everything they could have had.

“I’ll be in touch. Don’t expect a quick reply, Madama Candente.”

“Of course not. All I expect is a deposit on my account, dear. Awww, don’t give me that look. Smile a little. It takes less effort to smile than to frown!”

“Pray your gods of tar and silver that you never see me put effort in anything regarding you, Candente,” she seethes, walking off. Too bad the cape hides her beautiful form. She’s a bit hard to deal with, but the blonde Asterite is gorgeous. Argia wouldn’t mind to have her for a night.

Even if she does give her the creeps.

[cont.]
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>>6116785

Now that she’s gone — and she knows she is gone, her senses have never betrayed her once since she has made her pact — she can finally unwind, and she relaxes her shoulders, drawing a sigh.

She takes a moment to study the face of her next mark. This is not going to be an easy job… but it’s a chance to further hone her abilities. The powerful additions to her soul, courtesy of her Patron. She grins at the beautiful new form she gave the drinking glass.

“I’m going to miss this…” she whispers to herself, running her dainty fingers over the shiny surface.

She’s been thinking about all this… for everything she has gained so far, the awareness she’s approaching her contract’s expiration date has been growing so far, like an oily patina over everything she can’t seem to ignore. Her Patron will let her live the rest of her days in peace, patiently waiting for the time to collect her soul, but there’s something inside Argia that’s been thinking about changing the terms of her contract.

She pushes her tongue against her lower lip. It’s a risky move. This is no ordinary partner, no mortal endorser. But Argia has learned much. Perhaps… perhaps.

She finishes her drink, allowing the liquor’s pleasant buzz to settle inside her. Someone has started playing a string instrument, their fingers plucking a soft melody. Whoever it is, they are good… and whatever happens, her future is going to be richer than she can even imagine.

Chuckling, she stands up. Time to check on that girl at the entrance. Let’s see how good she is at taking clothes off her back.

The salon is graveyard-silent.

Each one of its regulars fuzzy, greyed-out, as if she’s looking at them through a foggy window. Her heart skips a beat. She turns, scanning the outside, the corridors — everyone stands stone-still, caught mid-step, turned into a motionless statue. Even the light shudders and shivers, as if pinched in the steely pedipalps of a silvery spider, eight-legged and eight-eyed.
All-seeing, all-grasping.

“It’s a beautiful drawing,” a woman’s voice says from behind her. Argia jolts, turning to regard a girl who could be her age or even younger, a soft smile spread over her gorgeous features. She has not changed since the first time she appeared in Argia’s life, holding out a pale hand, tipped by black nails. Her long white hair flow as if following a hidden wind, or as if she were submerged in water. Her crimson eyes pierce Argia’s ice blue’s ones, and between her black, curved horns pulsates a constellation of minuscule stars, forming a throbbing flower of five petals. “Sit down, Argia,” the Stilladìa commands.

Gulping, Argia obeys. She used to be in control on that seat, just minutes ago, looking at the Asterite.

And now her Patron is here — why — no, she knows why.

To do the last thing you are supposed to in a place like Zena — have a conversation with an old friend.

[cont.]
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>>6116791

“A shame that such a soul has fallen to the clutches of Ansàrra,” the Stilladìa notes, coiling a strand of black hair around her pale finger as she taps her other fingers over Sandora’s notes. “It’s such a sad thing to waste, a soul. I’m sure you agree.”

“I do.” No hesitation.

That’s the way with her Patron. No bullshitting. No ifs and buts. Clear and cut.

And no taking back your word. Argia feels the weight of her temptations sink its hooked talons onto her back, and scraping, scraping all the way down to her coiled stomach.

She knows.

“Perhaps,” the Stilladìa counters. A pause, then— “Does the name Mouk Zelas says anything to you?”

“No.”

“No indeed. I made sure of it. He used to be an infamous sorcerer. An Asterite of unspeakable power, one of the last few great ones. Of course, he struck a deal with me.” She leans back, exposing her slight chest and Argia spots something squirming in her lap. Something furry and malformed, something that squeals and wails. “Back then I was but a youngster, mind you! This was when I was dealing with Aghriman, Bradiamante, and my gracefully-enforced liberalisation of Silt trade. It was when I truly put my hooks into the Throne. A fun story for another time… what matters to us, tonight, is that Mouk Zelas did try to walk back on his deal with me.”

Argia gulps. She tries not to, but time is dead, and the only thing before her is her Patron, and she can almost see her coiling the strings she holds over her soul just like she coils her white hair around her finger.

“You are telling me this because he did not manage to do so.” Of course. A warning.

But the Stilladìa shakes her head.

“Argia dearest. I am telling you this because he did find a way around it.” She scoffs. “The slimy bastard. A tiny loophole, which I have long-since patched, mind you.”

No doubts about that.

“He was smart and resourceful, just like you. And I liked him. Just like you.”

And there is yet another part to this, which teeters on the precipice. Argia’s patron wants it to be her the one to ask it.

“What happened to him?”

[cont.]
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>>6116796

“You know, Argia… my actual commodity is not souls, is trust. I’m not Ansàrra: with me, what you see is what you get. So, when someone tries to bend the rules to their favour, I do not take kindly to that. Betrayal, over any other thing… it shows my creative side. Usually, even when I get angry, my beloved Husband holds me back. But he allows me to run free when the situation truly calls for it.” She raises her other hand and the lamb, the one Argia spotted outside the entrance, wail and bawl and groan and gasp, holding onto life with all the strength of its mangled body, as its beady eyes look for a light that’s not there, a string of saliva running out of its mouth. “Souls are precious things. Precious, wondrous, fragile things. You haven’t heard of Mouk Zelas, but you have seen him. You have caught a glimpse of his plight in every tumour, in every misshapen birth, in every gout, in every feverish bloody eye, in every broken spine. I have scattered the shards of his soul inside every thing that wheezes and suffers and cannot die and curses life, every day, and every night, for the past three hundred and eighty seven years.”

Argia doesn’t want to look at the lamb, cursed by life, and cursing life in return. She hates the skittering sound of its hooves against the table, as if it’s trying to stand upright, nature’s commandment broken time and time again against its misshapen spine, like the waves of a stormy sea upon careless cliffs.

“I am telling you this because I like you, Argia. I like your soul. I will treasure it and, after your time with me is over, I will release you into the great wheel, never to meet each other again. I’d hate to get creative once again.” She stands, picking up the lamb. “Do not take this as a threat, dearest. Just as a forecast. Believe me when I say I have always completely honest, with you and everyone else.” She smirks. “After all, I have always been a terrible liar.”

Reality winks, and the Stilladìa disappears inside its cracks.

Sound and smells. Colours. The strings of that instrument. The whispers and the world of mortal men. It goes all back to Argia, so suddenly she jolts and her chair screeches against the floor.

“Madama Candente?” Calls the chirpy voice of the attendant girl, holding her clothing. “Have you called for me?”

She didn’t.
Perhaps a final goodbye from Argia’s Patron.

“I did not,” she answers. “I would just like something else to drink. And for the rest, forget it. I’m not in a good mood,” she adds, clutching the table’s edge.

[cont.]
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>>6116804

# # # # # #

You stand up from your cot, shivering cold in the warm night of Madua.

“—ahhh!” You scream, alerting Salicera (no, Willow), who’s mounting guard. “Ah. Ah… oh, Starless Night… what was…”

“What happened?” She is right besides you, holding your back and draping her strong arms around your shoulder. “Did you have a nightmare?”

“I think… yes. Some kind of— of terrible nightmare.” You try to take deep, long breaths, your arm coiled around your votive Cameo. May Saint Bragia protect you, what a terrible vision. It’s already fading. You just know it was about you and… and the Adversary. “I don’t remember. I just know it was horrible.”

“Nightmares are rarely pleasant,” Willow chuckles. “Want something to drink?”
“Yes, please,” you blush, looking away. Willow smiles, and reaches for the canter, while your other two companions keep sleeping. With every breath, reality realigns itself around you.

It was just a nightmare.

“Blessed be Ansàrra,” you whisper. Just a nightmare.

Well, this omake was a lot of fun to write, especially at the end of a very very bad day. Really hope you liked it! I planned to continue the overall story but something in me shifted with all this mentioning of Alter!Argia so I just had to take this little bout of inspiration by the tale. Thanks for suggesting it. Of course, this was just a bad dream, but Mouk Zelas' fate is canon. Just a heads-up in case some of you want to make the Stilladìa angry. See you tomorrow with more updates. It seems armour option is winning. Bling queens!
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>>6116809
Yikes. Sounds like a cool quest in and of itself.

Sorry to hear about your rotten day, though.
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>>6116809
damn, alter Argia really got your muse going. Also nice to see more of the silver lolibaba.
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>>6116809
Nice omake
>>
That was fun. Maybe in another life we would get a full quest of evil Argia.
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>>6117727
Risky pic, anon. And I’m all for it.
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okay, final vote tally for Carnaval's gift:


>suits of armour: 5

>box of amulets: 1

>weapons: 0 :c

armour set wings, bling queens.

also, I'm glad you enjoyed the little omake. It was fun to write and it helped getting out of the funk I was in.

>>6116835
>rotten day
yeah, esp economically. let's hope the future brings better things
>sounds like a cool quest in and of itself
don't give me ideas

>>6116844
thanks anon. I needed to write more about the Stilladìa, I just needed to.
>lolibaba
she's got too much junk in the trunk to be one, desu

>>6117269
thanks

>>6117727
glad you enjoyed it.
>a full quest of evil Argia

hmmm if only I had the time...

also next time put a spoiler on that (or even better you know, don't post lolishit), don't want jannies breathing down my neck


and now, writing...
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>>6116016

“Well,” Rubida chuckles, stepping forward to brush her fingers against the closest set of armour, marvelling at its smooth surface, “Carnaval certainly knows how endorse and support an expedition.”

“Do these come from Ansàrra’s palace?” You whisper, reaching Rubida and the armour. It is made of interlinked plaques, shaped like honeycombs. The thin brass lining gives them an exquisite look.

“I don’t know any other workshop that could reach such exquisite level of craft,” Rubida whispers.

“I did not take you for such an expert.”

“Typical country bumpkin’s ignorance,” she flips her black hair. “A Maduan noble is required to familiarise herself with weapon craft, especially if she’s to keep watch over her family’s treasures.”

Hm, that does explain things a little. In fact, you could have guessed as much, if you were not shocked by the presence of these wondrous artefacts.

“They come in slightly different sizes,” Rubida points her finger to the one to the farthest right, “that one is slighter and shorter. I bet it’s going to fit Soralisa just fine.”

“This one…?” You reach out to it, and something pushes you check the inside of the vambraces, which makes you gasp. “You were right…”

“That’s her size. I just knew it.”
“No, it’s not just that, look…” you take the gauntlet off to display the inside. It’s lined with hallowed bandages, glowing a faint gold. The same she put over her arms, provided by Astoria. Once again, the fact you are so close to the Sun-Birther’s own blood makes your head swim.

“Oh. That is… some endorsement indeed. And surprisingly thoughtful.”

Those words remind you of the way Carnaval had looked at you that night, she looked apologetic, even shy, if that was a term you could fit to the Angel of Ansàrra.

“So this one must be mine,” she points to the one to the left. “And the two in the middle must be yours and Salicera’s.”

“I suppose so, they look…”

Rubida taps her fingers over the chestpieces, which protrude quite a bit more than her own.

“… spacious enough.”

[cont.]
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forgot pic, dammit

>>6118009

And you also notice something else. One of the two armours holds a metal sheath to the right. Your longsword would usually go to the left, so if she gave you one with a sheath it must be…

“And this is mine. She had one made with the right allotment for her… other gift.”

“Hm.” Rubida just nods, throwing a look at the Priest. You two silently decide not to speak about Carnaval’s feather, currently resting in your room. That gift felt a bit more personal than even this.

“These are incredible… say, how about we show them to Wi-Salicera and Soralisa right away?” You bite your tongue at your almost-slip. You and your lack of self-control… “I’d rather Soralisa get the benefits from those bandages as soon as possible.”

“Good thinking. Was it the breakfast? No… I think it’s just my company, perhaps I’m starting to rub off on you. You are getting smarter, Candente.”

“Uh…”

“And also, dearest Priest, would you please activate the Egidarma? Three out of four in our group have yet to see one in action.” She grins. “Soralisa is going to lose her head over it.”


# # # # # #


Soralisa leans forward over the Temple of Flame’s parapet, for the first time in a long while being able to apply and strength to her arms. The wind plays with her brown hair as her figure stretches against the immensity of the blue, two hundred or so paces over the lines of cresting waves.

“I’m just about to lose my head,” she whispers, her eyes wide in shock and awe.

“Let’s make sure that stays a way of speech, please…” you say, pulling her back. Your new armour fits like a glove. It’s clear it was custom-made with your body size in mind (how did Carnaval get such precise measurements?), and its weight is well-distributed it feels like you are wearing a leaden blanket and nothing else. Wonders of the tetracerarmide… these plaques are as light as tin and much more resistant than steel.

“Sorry. It’s just a lot to take in… these armours! This place! The Egidarma! Have you ever seen one in action, Argia?” She asks with wide eyes, even if she already knows the answer.

“I did not even know such a thing existed.”

[cont.]
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>>6118012

“It’s said that the original design is Kiengir,” she starts to explain, growing more excited. The armour and the bandages give her some of her old energy back, so she start to fidget. It’s a welcome sight. You have noticed Soralisa fidgeting a lot, moving her arms back and forth, since you met her. She’s recovering… slowly, but she is. “But the necessary materials perished with the Epochalypse. Nobody will brave the hopeless wasteland of the Kìtum to search for replacements, so these are but a pale mockery of what they used to be. I think I have heard the new manufacture follows an intuition and design by Candeloro himself!” She grins as that name catches your attention.

You had seen him — a tall blonde man in grey robes. Even if you did not focus on him at the time, not with Saint Bragia so close, but that had been him. One of her original companions, and another victim of that terrible night when the Adversary murdered Saint Bragia.

That vision still feels so close.

“Where does the name come from?” Asks Willow, coming up behind you, still checking her armour. “This is sick. Argia, are you sure Carnaval doesn’t need any other favours? I can do her laundry anytime!”

“With how little she wears, I doubt you’d get much out of it,” you reply, feeling a bit cheeky. You feel like you can allow yourself to be cheeky, around Willow. She snickers, then tilts her head towards Soralisa, who is trying to look for a crevice in your conversation.

“Sorry, did not mean to interrupt you.” Soralisa flushes at the other brunette’s attention. You have to admit that Willow’s confident smirk is absolutely charming, and it has lost none of its potency.

“Uh… it’s originally a Kiengir name. Igi-babbar-ma., which slowly turned into the Maduan.” She waits, as if that would be enough to explain everything, then, noticing how both you and Willow look completely lost, explains. “It’s a composed word. The last one, ‘-ma’ is the genitive, which means something related or belonging to something else. ‘Of’, so to say. The other two mean—”

[cont.]
>>
>>6118015

“Apologies,” the Priest shows up as well, Rubida in tow. “We have almost completed preparations, so I was wondering if you wanted to witness the spectacle from here on the parapet, or I can lead you to the observation chamber. It’s about one hundred steps upstairs, but still far enough to be perfectly safe. And we also have protective equipment, at any rate.”

Safe? You share a look with Willow. Is this thing so dangerous?

As Rubida waits for you to decide, she walks to the other side of the parapet, towards a large brazen horn that curves against the sky.

“I have always wanted to blow one of these.” She puts her lips against the horn’s tip and sends off a echoing bellowing note, which is soon echoed by others — you follow the noise to see a line of other similar brazen horns, repeating their sound, like a fog horn of a ship lost in the haze, echoes chaining and rattling against the wind.

One by one, the boats, sails and vessels that until then had lazily been floating before the Temple, start to turn away, towards the shore. That uneasy feeling at the bottom of your stomach grows.

That’s when Soralisa turns away from the parapet and addresses the Priest:

“Wait, if you are still getting the ignition chamber ready, can I take a look before you fire up the echombustion? I want to take a look!”

The Priest scratches his fabric-covered forehead.

“It’s a bit against protocol… maybe if you do a quick check. We can’t stop the scattering once initiated.”
“Thanks!” She turns towards you, her hand feebly closing around yours, with all the strength she can muster, helped by the armour and the blessing of Ansàrra. “I won’t have a chance like this in a long time, Argia, maybe ever! Will you come with me?”

You have a queer feeling about all this…

>You will look from here, the safest spot.

>You will climb upstairs and look from the observation chamber.

>You will fulfil Soralisa’s wish and follow her to the ignition chamber.

>[Suggestion/Write-In]


this update hints at some of my favourite tropes, especially the lost technology one. Doubly-lost, in this case. In case you decide to follow Soralisa inside the nethermost chamber of the Temple, remember to carry your UV protection... and thanks for playing!
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>>6118024
>You will fulfil Soralisa’s wish and follow her to the ignition chamber.
We are the vanguard, and she's our oldest friend.
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>>6118024
>You will fulfil Soralisa’s wish and follow her to the ignition chamber.
it'll be fun and she deserves it
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>>6118024
>You will fulfil Soralisa’s wish and follow her to the ignition chamber.
>>
>>6118024
>>You will climb upstairs and look from the observation chamber.
>>
>>6118024
>You will climb upstairs and look from the observation chamber.
>>
>>6118024
>>You will fulfil Soralisa’s wish and follow her to the ignition chamber.
>>
>>6118042
cute aigen, anon. love how it interpreted the 'exagon-shaped' tassels, and did you write something about Kiengiri letters? intriguing
>>6118149
she dooo
>>6118169
smile and carry a big axe

so far 4 vs 2. voting closes in 6 hours.

pic related is something I wanted to use for the omake, but couldn't find the pic right away. In the future I wouldn't mind exploring Frigéian technology
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>>6118024

You are still not sure this is a good idea. In fact, as the humming keeps growing in volume and intensity to the point you can start seep it into your bones, you think it’s a bad idea.

“Please hurry up!” Salicera pushes you forward, even if this ‘pushing’ is you just helping your brunette friend walking downstairs as fast as she can. “We’re almost to the ignition chamber! Do you feel the echombustion elements getting ready?” She turns to you with a big smile. It’s the widest smile you have seen her show since before her time at the Well, since before she lost control of her Sanction…

You still think it’s a bad idea. But it is worth it.

“I’m doing my best. Remember what I said about keeping your head over your shoulders, though? I’d avoid staying too much if it’s dangerous.”

“No danger at all,” she waves her hand, “the Priests have complete control over the reaction. It’s not going to fall into overrunning echoes until they release it…” her armoured hands fidget, making the tassel crinkle. “Unless they have already started the mirroring cascade, but I seriously doubt that’s the case! We just need to hurry up!”

“This is taking too much time,” you grumble, quickly sweeping up Soralisa in your arms and descending the stairs much, much quicker than before. This is the good part.
The bad part is the way she flushes and grasps meekly onto your shoulders, her large doe eyes looking up at you, making you feel like you overreached in trying to be a friend and—

No, this is not the right time to think about this, not with the slippery stairs beneath your boots.

“What is this place? This is not the staircase leading to the armour room. I have never seen a Temple of Flame built like this,” you ask, hoping on her desire to explain to paint over the cracks between your conversation.

[cont.]

Sunseeker QM three months ago: yea, this quest is NOT going to turn into a yuri harem, for sure-
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>>6119241


You slowly help Soralisa touch the floor and she gasps, her hand reaching for the wall.

You are already starting to feel the heat rising from all around you.

“Are you sure this place is safe?”
“Perfectly so!” She shouts over the rising hum. “Isn’t it wondrous? Candeloro’s own hand placed each of these tassels here, creating this channel.” So… the spiral staircases descend hugging this circular hole throughout the entirety of the Temple. That’s where the hum comes from, this chamber.

But it’s empty. You’d expect to see more, some kind of… fire perhaps.

“Where is this light coming from?”

“The inner sanctum above!” Soralisa explains with a huge grin on her lips. “The light from the Temple’s core gets scattered and refracted, and it then feeds back into the core, in an endless cycle that remains perfectly in balance… until the Priests tilt the scales upward, you see. These can move.” She taps with her glove over the tassels.

“And these were made by Saint Bragia’s companion…” you hold onto your Cameo. Soralisa nods, ecstatic.

“Yes! This is something that was made thanks to his genius, so long ago! See how the tassels all follow a certain inclination? This way the brightness of the light gets refracted upwards to the core and nothing happens. In fact, ever since we have come here we have perhaps started to disturb the reaction a bit…”

[cont.]
>>
>>6119242

“… what?!” You shout.

“Noting bad, it’s safe! Ah, this… oh, Sun-Birther,” the back of her hand weakly reaches for her cheeks, drying off her tears. “I have wanted to see one of these from the inside since I knew about them. Candeloro walked on these very tassels, he placed them one by one, by his own hands, for the glory and the safety of our land.”

You wonder if you shouldn’t gift Soralisa a cameo of her own.

“Why didn’t they make more?” You look upwards, shielding your eyes. It’s exceedingly bright. This is the light of the Core… you wonder if you are even supposed to behold it ere you fully takes the Votes and pass the Trial of Flame. But if the Priests allowed you two here they must have their reasons.

“These tassels were made from a kind of seashell that’s been extinct for hundreds of years,” she sighs. “They were always scarce, and Candeloro gathered all that could be. The rest died off in the following years, especially since the merchants started to rake the deep sea for treasures.”
“One thing or another it all goes back to Frigéia…” you mutter, knowing that this is yet another sin they will ultimately pay for. Then a ray of light hits your eyes even as you are shielding yourself.
One of the tassels is slowly tilting itself.

“Uh, Soralisa… is that normal?”
She goes pale as snow, reaching out for your arms.
“We better get out of here.”

You don’t waste any time picking her up. She still longingly looks behind your shoulder as you get out of the ignition chamber. A series of sliding doors shut behind your path, and more and more as you climb upstairs, as the hum grows to a fever pitch.

“These are ancients,” Soralisa explains, a shy smile on her lips. “Accidents happen. Thanks for being there with me, Argia.”

“Anytime,” you reply, carrying her upstairs.

“And the best part has yet to come!” She assures you. “I couldn’t tell you before, but the other two Kiengir words for this weapon? Remember how I couldn’t tell you the right translation because I was interrupted?”

“Y-Yes…” wait. Weapon? This thing is a weapon?

“Igi-Babbar-Ma. It means… Eye of the Sun.”

[cont.]
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>>6119243

# # # # # #

Sandora Mirari sits on her usual spot, right on ship’s bow, reading a list of Maduan family names, when she feels it. Perhaps it’s instinct, perhaps it’s something else. Powers that run through her body and her soul, waking up from their slumber as threat raises its ugly head.

“What the…” the blonde mutters, leaving the book on the chair and looking past the empty miles of open sea, towards the Maduan coast, barely visible from there as a thin white and green line. There is something… like a humming vibration going through the air, running to a fever pitch.

It doesn’t make any sense.
Why would Carnaval invite her here on a diplomatic mission just to fire a fucking Eye of the Sun on her vessel?

“Stars conserve us,” she whispers, looking at the horizon, waiting for the flash.

If it’s really aimed at them, it’s too late for anything else.

# # # # # #

You reach the upper chamber, panting slightly from carrying Soralisa all the way.
“Well, now I’m jealous,” Willow smirks, crossing her arms over her chest.
“It was just… a way to get here sooner,” you reply. She just clicks her tongue.
“You owe me a sparring session, just for that.”
“Yeah, yeah, fantastic, girls, lovely. You are both pretty. Now put these on if you care about still having functioning eyes,” Rubida scoffs as Soralisa touches the floor once again. She gives you a rounded piece of black glass. You can faintly see through it, so it’s not blindglass, probably just some smoked surfaced the uninitiated use to approach the inner parts of the Temple.

As you strap the piece of glass on your head, making sure not to take off your hood, every light disappears.
“Ah—” you hesitate as your eyes slowly adjust. You can still see, very faintly, the sun and the sky ring. It reminds you of the Crimson Days during which the sun is veiled, but this is much darker. Then, the humming sound grows once again in intensity, to the point the entire structure of the Temple’s tower, reaching out far in the sky, seems to tremble and shake. The thrumming reaches your bones, and it grows and grows… turning your head to the very top of the tower, you see something you did not expect.

The tip of the tower is starting to open.

[cont.]
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>>6119246

“There! It’s almost there!” Soralisa’s excited squeal cuts through the humming. You try to see where she is, but all you can see is a faint outline and… oh.

You take your visor off.

Two people, standing on the observatory just like you — they are looking towards the sea, so you can only see their shoulders. A young woman and a young, blonde man, his tall figure hunched over as he holds onto the marble parapet.
Silently, the black-haired woman, her hair short and a glint in her olive-green eyes, sets her tanned hand over his in a reassuring gesture. She opens her mouth to say something.

“Saint—”

“What are you doing,” Willow reaches from behind you, clasping the visor back on your eyes. You plunge back into darkness.

“I saw—” the humming sound covers your words. Something is coming out of the tower. It’s so bright you can see its outline — two pyramids, their tips touching and interlocking as they shift into each other, and a shimmering bubble of energy grows to encase them.

There’s a faint zesty taste on your tongue. Like just before a storm. The air feels like it’s trying to escape — you are one with the thrumming, and then—

The pyramids break apart. Something, a ray so bright it blinds you even through the protection, eating through each shadow like white paint flooding a black floor. You turn to follow the ray, which has already hit the sea — and a glowing sphere of hyper-heated air and water explodes out in the distance, perhaps fifty miles off the coast, in a white column that seems to cut straight through the planetary ring.

[cont.]
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>>6119247

When moments later the burst of wind reaches you four like a slap, you stumble back from its force, followed by rings of weak waves that slowly hit the coast, making the vessels still in the open sea wobble back and forth.

You take the visor off once again, to check on Willow. She’s just as pale as Soralisa used to be.

“I thought I had left this kind of shit behind.”

“What?”
“Some more stuff from… there. You know.”

You do not inquire further. Not when you are with the others. Above you, the tower shrinks back into its old shape, apparently harmless, vapour dancing from where the metal, or perhaps some form of ceramide, is still white-hot.

The sea and the wind as slowly calming down, and the air feels safe once again without that continuous humming, but all you can hear is Soralisa’s excited voice.

“Praised be the Sun-Birther! Let it be known nobody encroaches on the coasts of the Holy Land unpunished! Praised be the Egidarma and Candeloro!”

Rubida crosses her arms over her chest, just as proud.

“There’s never been too many occasions to fire one of these over the past few years. Good to know they are still in pristine condition… you never know when they may come in handy.”

You share a look with Willow. She gives you a hint a nervous smile.

“So… can we climb back down now?”


>You’d rather spend the rest of the afternoon in the town with your friends, checking on your preparations.

>Your vision has bothered you. Why another vision of the past, and why now? Just as Master has left… did Willow notice anything?

>Your departure is nigh. You may await your barge by the shore, it will carry you to the open sea where you’ll meet the Asterite’s vessel.

>[Suggestion]


I'd say that was a blast of an update. Especially to write. It counted as a double homage. I guess the first homage is easy to guess, the second one may be less so. At any rate, hope you enjoyed seeing how the Holy Land helps keep its coasts safe. Now next time we'll get on that boat... thanks for playing.
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>>6119252
>>You’d rather spend the rest of the afternoon in the town with your friends, checking on your preparations.
>>
>>6119241
>Sunseeker QM three months ago: yea, this quest is NOT going to turn into a yuri harem, for sure-
My brother in christ, you made them attracted to women. Jokes aside, I don't wanna a harem and I'll go for the Soralisa route if possible.
>>6119246
Based Nadia reference
>>6119252
>“I thought I had left this kind of shit behind.”
so the explosion is comparable to an atomic one, hmm

>Your vision has bothered you. Why another vision of the past, and why now? Just as Master has left… did Willow notice anything?
unprompted vision demands investigation
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>>6119252
>Your vision has bothered you. Why another vision of the past, and why now? Just as Master has left… did Willow notice anything?
>>
>>6119252
>Your vision has bothered you. Why another vision of the past, and why now? Just as Master has left… did Willow notice anything?
>>
>>6119241
>No, this is not the right time to think about this, not with the slippery stairs beneath your boots.
Good character growth moment.
Still not voting harem route, though. Pure Sally/Willow stan.

>>6119017
> did you write something about Kiengiri letters?
Nope, just the AI interpreting 'anime' to mean 'Japanese characters', and then not knowing how to make those.

>>6119252
>Your vision has bothered you. Why another vision of the past, and why now? Just as Master has left… did Willow notice anything?
Good excuse to get her alone and talk about why she's so spooked where nobody can hear us
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>>6119272
>no harem
I just like to tease it, rest assured it's not in the program or is it?

>>6119273
very cute pic

>>6119494
yea, AIslop being slop.
I also like the way you think.

well, I would have liked to leave more time for voting but I am going out in a bit so I need to finish this soon! writing
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>>6119252

The aftereffects of your visit to the Temple dance before you like the phosphene from the Egidarma’s death flash.
Especially that vision. Why another, and why now? Your companions do not seem to pick up on your worried expression.
“I hope next time we can see it aimed at some Firgéian vessel!” Soralisa muses, leaning against Rubida as she helps her walk. Her excitement before exhausted her, even as she keeps discussing the experience.
At any other time, you would have agreed. Why did it have to appear right at that moment? You could have just spent a few minutes enjoying yourself, imagining the flashing ray of destruction aimed at the floating banks of the merchant city.

But something else had to step in.
Or perhaps, like the last time… someone.

“Is it bothering you as well?” Willow asks, coming closer and setting a gauntleted hand against your armour. “The Egidarma?”

“No, not really. It's good for us to have such weapons. It was something else… I wonder if…” you glance at Rubida and Soralisa, who are still chatting excitedly among themselves, a few steps ahead of you on the stairs leading away from the Temple.

Master is not here. But perhaps Willow can understand. Especially when it comes about feeling out of place or — having a destiny. That’s still a worrying thought. You don’t want a destiny. You’d rather have a soft pillow beneath your butt, a large glass of good wine in your hand and your family finally surrounding you.
Then again, these are not the sort of things you can decide. You are floating in the current, and you can decide to either swim following its direction, or against it, but you cannot leave it. There is no leaving it.

A quick glance at the sun shows that you still some time before the expected coming of the barge that will carry you to the open sea, to meet with the Asterite. There is no touching the Holy Land for those that come from the Throne, after all.

“Do you want to talk?” Willow whispers. “You look like you need to talk. You always chew your lip when you do,” she snickers.

[cont.]

big gains for Willowcoin here
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>>6119701

“I don’t… oh,” you reply, letting go of your lower lip. That’s an embarrassing tic, isn't it? “Alright. If you’d feel like listening, then I would gladly accept. Ah, let me tell something to Rubida first.” You step forward, your armour still clinging onto your like a second, thick skin. “Salicera and I will need to talk about something. Can I ask you to go pick up some provisions in town before we leave?”
Rubida give you one of her looks.

“I suppose the heathen Asterites would look down on all your smooching.”

“That’s— that’s not the reason…” your cheeks must be as red as rubies by now.

“She has seen something. Haven’t you? Another vision?” Asks Soralisa.

“I—” you sigh. “Perhaps. I need to think about it. How about we meet on the shore in about two hours? Next to the Temple, it’s the easiest spot to find.”

Rubida and Soralisa share a look.

“Remember to tell us as well,” she adds, draping her arms around Soralisa. “When you are ready.”

“When I’m ready,” you agree.

You four reach the end of the stairs and as Rubida and Soralisa leave, you are left alone with Willow.

“So, the beach, hm?”

# # # # # #

Willow takes off her boots, and keeps walking on the sand with her bare feet, chuckling at how it feels.

“This is so different from back home. You’d have to spend a pretty penny to find yourself on a white beach like that. But this is different, it doesn’t even look like sand…” she lets some of the fine grain sift through her pale fingers, and it glints like a rainbow. Just like those tassels over there. The imposing shadow of the Temple looms over the beach, like a giant sundial. Over the shore, the boats and ships and barges have returned to their previous fishing, and some are picking up heavier nets than before. The Egidarma’s ray has seemingly stunned or killed a lot of fish.

“I don’t know how to deal with this,” you sigh, rubbing your hand over your arms. “Master would know what to do, but he’s so far away. I would meditate in the Temple, but we don’t have time. I—”

“It’s like I always say,” Willow interrupts you, running her hand through her locks, until she meets her long braid. “You must believe more in your own abilities. In moments like these you can only count on yourself.”

“Yet you are here with me,” you retort, trying to fight against Willow’s individualist rhetoric. You do not like it. It sits awkwardly with you — you always had someone else to count on, or someone else whose account mattered to you. Your father, then your whole family, then Master, and of course, above all… you look at the sky, shielding your eyes.

“That’s different.” You don’t really see how or why. “Why did Soralisa talk about you having another vision?”

[cont.]
>>
>>6119702

Ah. That’s right… you did not properly discuss this with Willow. For all your talk of being open and truthful with each other—

“I don’t think it was a vision. I saw it with my eyes, when I pulled my visor off. Also, how could you see what I was doing?”

She smirks and points to her eyes.

“Earthling sight, remember?”
“Right. Sometimes I forget even like this… you feel so native. I hope that doesn’t bother you! It just slipped out, sorry.”
“It’s fine as long as it’s you. You were saying — you don’t think it was a vision?”
“I think it was a memory. It happened once already, the night of Saint Kishirra’s celebration. I saw her going through the ceremony just before I did. I think it’s one of the reasons why I did so well — Ansàrra was there to hold my hand; but why now, why another…?”
“What did you see exactly?”
“Saint Bragia and Candeloro. I did not hear their voices this time. It seemed Candeloro was worried about something and she was holding his hand. They were close, if the recounts are correct.”
“How close?”
You shrug.
“Not as close as Saint Kishirra and her Strander companion? Or perhaps more! The doctrine is branching… how can truth contradict itself? I don’t like it, Willow…” you bite your gloved fingertip, feeling the plate beneath your teeth. “I don’t like it one bit.”
“Stop ruining your teeth, that plaque is so sharp you’ll scrape off your incisors…” she takes your hand in hers. “So you walked in a memory. Not the weirdest thing I have— heard about,” she hesitates.
“Did it happen to you as well?”
“Ansàrra certainly doesn’t hold me in such esteem as she does you,” she grins.
“Don’t say such things! She—”
“It’s fine playing favourites. You’re here with me and not Rubida, after all. Does it mean you love her less?”

[cont.]
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>>6119703

ou sigh.

“I hate how much sense you make sometimes. I think I’m just confused. And a little scared.”
“That’s absurd.”
“How—”
“Argia, do you even listen to yourself? How can you be scared when Ansàrra is clearly leading you somewhere? Have some respect for us poor mortals who have to figure it all out by themselves,” she chuckles, rubbing her hand over your shoulder. “If she is showing you these memories, then there must be a reason behind it. Are you seriously asking me if you should… what? Have more faith in the Sun-Birther?”
“Oh. Uh. When you put it like that…”
“See?”

You two detach and you stand looking at the open sea, taking in the immensity of blue, the terse azure of the sky and the silver-dotted cerulean of the ocean. The wind sifts some of that sand back and forth.

“I would like to find answers,” you sigh.
“I would like to have the right questions,” Willow replies. “But whatever it is, I’m sure I’m doing the right thing, staying with you three. Especially with you, Argia. I have received some kind of — offer, in the past. To take another road.”
“The Advers—”
“Oh for fuck’s sake, no! I don’t care about the Stilladìa. It was just an idea by someone else, alright? I’m not going to consider it,” she replies, rubbing her chest. “At least, there is no need to consider it. I’ll just take it as it is. And I’ll just do my best.” She shrugs. “I believe in your destiny, Argia. And I believe in my own.” She looks at the sky as well. “And I know that I’ll go far. Is it so hard to do the same?”
“It is,” you reply, “when I don’t want to take one step further than my goal.”
“You still think this will be a straight and narrow road?”

And to that, you have no answer. Once again.

“At least, you won’t have to travel it alone,” she adds, setting her head against your shoulder.

[cont.]
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>>6119704

# # # # # #


The boat carries you four away from the shore. You turn towards the ponderous height and mass of the Temple, checking if something moves on the observatory, some shade of the memory you visited — that visited you.
Just empty marble.
Is that even so important, in the end? Ansàrra is leading your path, no matter what.

“Perhaps you were right,” you say turning to Willow.

You look ahead, walking on the creaking boat until you reach the bow. The two mariners dealing with the sail give you a glance as you pass by.
Ahead, just a couple miles forward, you can clearly spot a large grey vessel, crafted with wood and reinforced with steel, cannon tips peeking black and hollow from its bow, the black sails carrying the imperial eagle of the Throne.

“That’s a horrible ship.” Behind you, Rubida and Soralisa stand up as well, joining you and Willow. “But at least we won’t have to spend too much time on it.”

You take a moment to look at all of them — Soralisa holds her arms against her chest, looking at you, Rubida’s blue eyes are stern and alert, ready to use her diplomatic skills to face the Asterite; and Willow crosses her arms over her chest, the curve of her lips displaying her usual confident smirk.

You have learned much from Soralisa. And from Rubida — she was the first of the three to know why you don’t drink wine anymore.
Perhaps, you should take a note from Willow herself.

>In an unprecedented show of foolish bravery, you take off your hood, exposing your silver hair to the sailors. Ansàrra leads your path. It's time to stop hiding who you are.

>You wait for the vessel to come closer to ask the sailors to extend the diplomatic banner. You'll approach this with caution.

>If the Eye of the Sun was not enough, you ask the girls to pray together for a showy Sanction, something that shows the Throne's vessel is allowed on these waters by sheer benevolence alone.

>[Suggestion]


ah, yea, another of those important votes. Take your time, anon. This could be a meaningful decision for the future. Perhaps what happened as of late influenced Argia more than she may have perceived... thanks for playing.
>>
>>6119709
>>In an unprecedented show of foolish bravery, you take off your hood, exposing your silver hair to the sailors. Ansàrra leads your path. It's time to stop hiding who you are.
>>
>>6119709
>>In an unprecedented show of foolish bravery, you take off your hood, exposing your silver hair to the sailors. Ansàrra leads your path. It's time to stop hiding who you are.
>>
>>6119709
>In an unprecedented show of foolish bravery, you take off your hood, exposing your silver hair to the sailors. Ansàrra leads your path. It's time to stop hiding who you are.
fuck it, we ball
>>
>>6119703
Ah shit, I should check my stocks...

>>6119709
>In an unprecedented show of foolish bravery, you take off your hood, exposing your silver hair to the sailors. Ansàrra leads your path. It's time to stop hiding who you are.
It's time. We'll be the Silver Knight whom Willow believes in!
>>
>>6119709
>>You wait for the vessel to come closer to ask the sailors to extend the diplomatic banner. You'll approach this with caution.
>>
4 vs. 1 votes

>>6119727
that's some cute art

writing will commence shortly.
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I'm pleasantly surprised by the support the vote had. interesting choice. players sometimes can be a bit too conservative but I am glad you showed bravery!

>>6119709

The knot of fear bites your stomach, stiff and cold.
But there is, beyond fear — as the fear passes over you like a tidal wave — something that burns warm and comfortable. The awareness that Ansàrra has reached out for you, and not just once.
Beyond fear, lies faith.
Then your hands reach for your hood and, biting your lip, you pull it down.
Rubida’s gasp cuts through the wind. Soralisa turns to gape at you. The two mariners who are turning the sail let go of the ropes and the sail flaps like a pair of wings. Their gaze pierces into you — but you push through. Saint Bragia would have done the same.

“We will face the heathens with all the strength of our conviction,” you state. “And we will show the value in Carnaval’s decision to entertain this diplomatic reachout.” It feels like the voice is coming from someone else — maybe the Argia who was possessed by passion when she spoke to the crowd, during the celebration. Or the Argia who faced the terrible revelations coming from Willow and managed to uphold the sense of friendship between them.

The two mariners reach for their ropes, pulling on them as the sail turns taut once again, and the steering vessel proceeds towards the larger ship. They keep gaping at you, their eyes as wide as saucers.

It’s just something I was born with—

It’s not my fault!

I am not in league with the Adversary!

You won’t excuse yourself.
If Ansàrra did not demand you to, how can a pair of sailors?

Even if you know — a small bitter part of you knows there will be consequences for this — right now what matters is focusing on the path ahead. This mission will either make or break you as a knight, and when you come back…

[cont.]
>>
>>6120859

You fold Master’s gift, the hood that has covered your head until now, and you set it inside your backpack, as the rest of your friends waits for your next move. It feels comforting now, to know they are there for you, to sustain and uphold you. Rubida won’t tease you anymore. Soralisa shared her love of knowledge with you.
Willow — Willow told you her deepest secret.

“We are ready,” you state, sitting down and joining your hands for a quick silent prayer. “Signal our arrival to the Throne ship.”

You close you eyes, and reach out to Ansàrra. Someone else sits next to you, and then two more bodies. The echoes of a brazen horn reach you just as soon as that scent of dry earth and ripe vineyards. The sun is warm on your skin and the wind — the wind plays with your hair.

You finally, finally let it.


# # # # # #


You four start climbing aboard the Throne ship. Like you noticed, it’s much larger, thicker and uglier than the sailboat that carried you here. The two mariners haven’t stopped muttering to each other in hushed, half-mouthed words ever since you took off your hood. Even Rubida’s infamous glares couldn’t make them completely stop.

Be as it may — you take a deep breath — that is beyond you now. Beyond your power to influence and beyond your care. You feel refreshed. There is something in you that feels lighter — as it always does when you put yourself right in the care of Ansàrra.

The wooden planks creak under your weight as you set your foot on the bow. The Throne’s vessel crowded. Men of any age look not at you but at far-off shore, taking in long breaths. Some even taking off their clothings to let the wind hit their skin — their bodies show sores, strange lumps of flesh, old wounds.

What is going on? This is certainly not the kind of—

“Ah, my apologies, truly!” Says a woman’s voice. She steps out of the main cabin, walking towards you four as she opens her arms in a welcoming gesture. Her voice is smooth, and it would be even pleasant to hear if not for the softly-grating accent that makes her syllables a little harsher, compared to Maduan language. “I had promised my mariners they would get to enjoy the air coming from ashore. It is good for the body, they say.”

[cont.]
>>
>>6120861

She finally stands in front of you, giving you four a light bow, her flowing blonde hair waving back and forth like a spilling of gold. Her jade eyes surely look beautiful but there is a stern light in them that puts you on edge. And then her hands — she carries a huge scar on the back of each hand, two pale reminders of her origin.

“My name is Sandora Mirari. I am Eleventh Seat at the Accademia do Marsevero. At your service.”

She lets her words linger — inviting you to answer her greeting. Your eyes wander over her body — her exposed tanned skin and the criss-crossing of thin scars all over her shoulders speak of someone who’s used to the wilderness. You wonder how skilled Asterites are with a blade, and if they need one at all. And yet — besides her corset and her long robes, she also wears an exquisite cloak, thick and lined with fur, the fabric embedded with gold and silver stars.

This woman reeks of wealth. Wealth and power.

It’s somewhat different from the slimy sensation you felt with the Frigéian merchants, but it still makes you feel unease.

Nobody speaks. Rubida, Soralisa, even Willow — they are all waiting for you to begin…

“We are—” ah, false start. You let out a cough. The woman’s smile turns just a little bit sharper. “Uh, we are… elated to meet you.” Is this even the correct formula? You should just go with your intuition. And the faith that Ansàrra will be there to catch you if you fail. It has served you well so far. “It was Carnaval who chose us for this mission, and we will be glad to be of service.” A pause. “Of service to better relationships between our lands, that’s it.”

“Does this service include the operation of an Eye of the Sun, perhaps?” She quips.

[cont.]
>>
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>>6120863

“Oh! No, that wasn’t… it was just an accident. I didn’t know your vessel was in the line of fire.”

“It was not. Otherwise we wouldn’t be here. Just to make sure that its operation was not intended as—”

“Nothing like that!” You didn’t even know that was the direction the Priests of Flame fired the weapon at… “It was merely a… chance to learn. For us. That’s all. Apologies if that came out as confrontational. We did not intend to…”

“Ah,” those jade eyes glisten with amusement. “I understand. A warning would be appreciated next time, ere I turn into dust in the wind — the Throne would bemoan its loss. A bit too fiery as a welcome, but up close it’s not so bad. Argia Candente, if I’m not mistaken.”
“How do—” you ask, shocked, and then realise as Rubida gently sets a hand against your back that it was a mistake. She made you drop your armour of formality first.

“Why, didn’t Carnaval tell you?” She creases one of her eyebrows. “I am a teacher. Finding out more than others expect comes with the job. Apologies if that came out as uncouth. It was far from my intention,” she gives you another contrite bow, far too quick to be anything but contrite. “Now — while I let my men bask in the light of your homeland for a while, how about we talk downstairs in my quarters? I assure you we may find better things to look at than the vast expanse of the sea.”

>You follow her to her cabin. Not much else to do out here.

>You should probably add one more formal apology. Your use of the Eye of the Sun was careless.

>No, you'd rather stay here, and check what her mariners are doing. Why are they taking their clothes off to catch the wind?

>[Suggestion]

ahhh, finally. welcome to the BOAT ARC. I suppose we'll be travelling the sea for 200 to 250 threads, just to homage Berserk. Also, finding cute pics of green-eyed blondes we are not, uh, Marcille Donato is really hard. Enjoy this portrait anon because I'm not going to have much else to show you... at any rate, thanks for playing.
>>
>>6120865
>>You follow her to her cabin. Not much else to do out here.
>>
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>>6120865
>No, you'd rather stay here, and check what her mariners are doing. Why are they taking their clothes off to catch the wind?
Eye candy
>>
>>6120865
>You follow her to her cabin. Not much else to do out here.
I mean, why not ? also considering the longevity of the land, I'd not be surprised the winds might have some property as well.

>Also, finding cute pics of green-eyed blondes we are not, uh, Marcille Donato is really hard.
just remove elf from the tags, OP.
>>
>>6120865
>You follow her to her cabin. Not much else to do out here.
>Ask her about this weird wind-catching tradition, though.
>>
>>6120865
>No, you'd rather stay here, and check what her mariners are doing. Why are they taking their clothes off to catch the wind?
>>
>>6120865
>No, you'd rather stay here, and check what her mariners are doing. Why are they taking their clothes off to catch the wind?
>>
>>6120880
>>6120902
>>6120968
>>6121056
>>6121366
>>6121695

3 against 3 as of now. Please tie break or I'll have to roll. also, today's, monday's and (maybe) tuesday's updates may be late as I'm currently on an extended holiday with friends, so not much time for questing (sadge).

I'll see if I can manage to update tonight, but it's hard to say. thanks for your patience anyway frens.
>>
>>6122147
I'll flip my vote (>>6121056) as long as we aren't rude about it.
>>
>>6122147
>filename
well, what does she think about being my smol wife for a day ?
>>
>>6121056
>>6122260
This
>>
>>6122451
oh, i'm retarded. i thought you were flipping to the first post. All i did was tie it up again :D please disregard
>>
>>6122451
Well if you're back me, I'll flip back. it'll still break the tie that way, lol.

>>6122147
>>
>>6122527
In that case, I'll keep backing this >>6121056
>>
>>6120865
>No, you'd rather stay here, and check what her mariners are doing. Why are they taking their clothes off to catch the wind?
I am tying it again (evil laugh)
>>
>>6120865
>You follow her to her cabin. Not much else to do out here.
>Ask her about this weird wind-catching tradition, though.
>>
>>6122147
OP? You OK?
>>
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>>6124069

yes, I just spent one more day with friends than I expected so I just came back home. thanks for asking, fren

>You follow her to her cabin
1+1+1+1

>No, you'd rather stay here
1+1+1

bonus: question about this wind-catching tradition

writing will commence shortly
>>
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>>6120865

welcome back!

Feeling antsy, you follow the Asterite across the deck. You have been on boats before, but they have only ever been the small vessels and dirges around the Mar da Candéa, short boats good for catching fish and braving the still waters of the inland sea. The wood beneath your boots feel much more solid, even imposing. The lines of cannon peeking from the ship’s sides remind you that this may be a diplomatic mission, but this ship comes from the Throne… and some of the mariners are carrying muskets.

Muskets…


# # # # # #

“Master, I hate it.”

“That makes two of us. But you’ll have to learn. Now aim it, use the ironsight — like you’d aim a crossbow.”

The foreign item feels unfamiliar in your hands. Heavy against your shoulder where you keep it still, and the mixture of polished wood and metal give it a manufactured look that reeked of merchants craft. Your stomach coils as you obey Master’s instructions and aim it at the plank of wood he pulled up, fifty paces ahead.

“Now pull the trigger.”

You do as he says, your finger hesitating just a moment, then a bang, the musket’s kickback pushing it into your shoulder — the white smoke coming out of its mouth, and the impact carving a single hole in the plank.

You set the musket down and check the inside, the hollow pipe from where you pushed down the bullet, like Master instructed you. It smells like sulphur and dust and burnt paper. You scrunch your nose up in disgust.

“Thoughts?” He asks.

“It’s crude.” You set it against a nearby tree, trying to distance yourself from the thing. “And slow. Archers have better fire rate. Why is the Holy Land even worried about these?”

“Because an archer — or a Knight — has to train all her life to hone her skills. But a peasant with bad knees can pick this up in a heartbeat and blow your jaw off,” he scoffs. “Back when I was your age, Frigéian muskets couldn’t hit the broad side of a house a hundred feet ahead. This is the first time you used one and tore a nice hole through that plank, didn’t you?”

“I— I have received training, Master. Under you.”

“Frigéians are also receiving training.” He picks the musket up, weighing it in his hands. “Skill cannot stop bullets. If you ever face men armed with these, there is only one thing you can hold on to.” He sets the musket, sideways, against his knee.

“And that would be?” But you already knew the answer. You just wanted Master to say it.

“Faith,” he replies, snapping the musket in a burst of splintered wood and groaning metal.

[cont.]
>>
>>6124252

# # # # # #


“Why are they taking off their clothes?” You ask, trying to take your mind away from the memories, and your desire for Master’s presence. Even clad as you are in your new armour, you feel just as vulnerable as those half-naked mariners, so far away from him. Becoming a Knight will also mean letting go of Master’s protection… but it is far from easy. “And what did you mean by allowing them to enjoy the air? Maduan air is no different.”

“Oh, hush, now,” the Asterite grins, slowing down just enough to wrap her slender arm around your shoulder. She smells — like flowers, maybe lavender? It’s hard to say but it seems expensive. “We wouldn’t want to take away their prize, so hard-won, would we? Everyone knows that even just the wind from the Holy Land carries invisible healing dust. A just reward for a job well done, that’s all.”

“She probably made them believe that to save on their wages,” Rubida sighs. “It’s not the wind that carries healing, it’s the Sun-Birther.”

“Why, I would never,” the Asterite glances, scandalised, at your dark-haired friend, but there is a clear glint of amusement in her jade eyes. “It’s not up to me to dismantle our good folk’s beliefs, especially when they are beneficial to them.”

“Yeah, she’s ripping them off,” Willow chuckles. “Soralisa was right, Trevirians really are just a bunch of bastards.”

“I am afraid you are mistaken,” Sandora Mirari states, waving her hand. “As I said, I would never challenge someone’s deep-set beliefs. Faith is a powerful thing, after all, and best left alone.”

Her words irk you, but you feel like you cannot tell her to shut up without calling the value of your faith into question. She is using those mariners and their silly superstition… and yet she is praising faith in the same breath.

She opens the door and steps aside.

“Please, take a seat. There is plenty of room inside, and to spare. I tried to make it as comfortable as my station allowed it.”

The cabin is quite wide, at least ten paces across, and lavishly decorated with all sorts of plushy cushions, paintings, desks, book shelves, and the like. Purple and silver drapes hang from the windows, decorated with the Throne’s dark grey insignia, as well as a symbol made of six concentric circles you do not recognise. It’s probably something related to the Academia.

At any other time, you would think twice about entering an unsupervised room like that, even more so when the Asterite has just proven herself to be willing to abuse someone’s beliefs for her gain.


[post]
>>
>>6124254

And Carnaval wants to have diplomatic relations with these people… if it were up to you, you’d have the Throne razed — and there were no Asterites to defend it.

You take a deep breath and step into the room, aiming for the largest and plushiest chair. When you sit on it, it welcomes your weight, even with the added bulk of your armour. One by one, the others follow you, Willow is last. She seems on edge, while Soralisa’s eyes go wide with wonder at the stacks of book plastered all over the walls and Rubida glances with disdain at a simulation game left half-finished on a table. She picks up a piece resembling a small tower.

“Why did she leave these exposed…?”

“We follow different rules, in games and in life as well,” the Asterite says, pulling the door behind herself. “Ah, a bit of privacy at last. I was enjoying my time reading a book by the bow when you decided to fire the Eye of the Sun, so I decided to calm my nerves with a simple game of capture the hill. I hope my decisions did not hurt your sensibilities, and you approve—”

“I do not approve of the mockery of faith you displayed,” you find yourself seething, leaning forward on the chair, holding onto your cameo and praying for Saint Bragia to calm your nerves before you turn this diplomatic mission into a justification for holy war. “You could have explained them that the Sun-Birther does not share Her boons with heathens.” You stand up and walk to the closest curtain, running our fingers through the silky material. It reminds you of the robes of those merchants, years ago… “And I do not approve of such ostentatious opulence. Are you perhaps in the service of Frigéia? Certainly seems like it.”

[cont.]
>>
>>6124256

“You wound me, madama Candente,” she pouts, passing by Willow who is looking around, still antsy. “I enjoy what little comforts I can ere I get thrown into the meatgrinder once again. The Throne cares little about our well-being. We do are not allowed the luxury of a long and careless life, so we have to do what we can with what little we have,” she replies, taking off her cape and setting it on one of the couches, as she sits at the main desk. She roams her hands over her skin, criss-crossed with scars, not all of them old. “I am a teacher, but you should know that teachers ought to learn themselves, and my place of learning has been the Borderlands.”

Rubida and Soralisa share a startled look. Even Willow stares. Even she must have heard that name at the edge of stories and hushed whispers, the blasted country in the south. You heard it because Bradiamante came from there — and she’s only second to Saint Bragia in your heart.

“So,” the Asterite adds, spreading her arms, “this conversation clearly showed that there is no love lost between our two countries. Blessed shall be the day when all the Powers of the world can join together in a sisterly embrace and sing a song of peace — but you will agree with me that’s a far-off day.” She adds a chuckle as she glances at you letting go of the curtain and walking back to your (plush) chair, then at Soralisa who picks up one of the books, a rapt expression on her face, only to discover the pages covered in useless scribbles, like someone froze a large amount of ants and attached them to the page.

“They are all like that…”

“But of course they are,” Sandora reveals. “These are my personal notes, after all.” She waves a hand and Soralisa gasps as the ink takes shape, revealing a series of random words. Sandora still wouldn’t show Soralisa her thoughts, but she is clearly starting to display some of the powers of an Asterite. “You can pick that up dear, if you want to. I have many mores yet to fill. Now… I suppose Carnaval did her darn best to not tell you what this mission exactly entails.”

[cont.]
>>
>>6124257

Silence stretches through the room. One by one, the others look at you.
Of course they do. You are the one with the connection to Saint Bragia. Carnaval’s feather. The cameo. And Master Delebasse’s first student in twenty years.

The girl with the silver hair, finally freed.

You run a hand through your locks, trying to wrestle with your thoughts — then you give up.

“No. She just said this was supposed to be a diplomatic mission. If this meant starting to appreciate the Treviri Throne and its inhabitants, I’m afraid it has failed before it began.”

Sandora gives you another of her smirks. They are different from Willow’s. The jade-eyed teacher seems to treat you like a curiosity, like the game Rubida criticised, a knot she wants to unravel.

It’s different from someone like Astoria — the Blessed Blind also clearly did not trust you, but as fellow believer, you could trust in Ansàrra. The Asterite instead… she only answers to herself. And to the Emperor, perhaps.

“Then you should consider yourself lucky,” Sandora sighs. “This mission will allow you to do what you certainly want to do to me. You can count your blessings, Argia Candente.” She opens one of the drawers and takes out a glass vial, setting it upright on the table. It’s filled with some sort of powder. It looks like diamond dust, glistening of every colour, possessing some sort of innate radiance. “Tell me, Madama Candente — how do you kill a mage?”

>"Master told me you don't. If you do, they explode in a burst of pernicious magic. So is this what's this is all about? Doing some dirty work?"

>"Don't you have Crows for that?" You turn to Soralisa. "They seemed to have done a good enough job during the Eldritch War."

>You open your mouth to reply, but Willow is the one who speaks. She turns towards you, her eyes growing wide. "There's someone else here."

>[Suggestion]


Thanks for playing! We'll return to regular updates. I had a blast with friends, but it felt weird not working on this. Is this the feared QM curse...? I suppose we'll found out soon enough.
>>
>>6124262
>>"Don't you have Crows for that?" You turn to Soralisa. "They seemed to have done a good enough job during the Eldritch War."
>>
>>6124262
>"Master told me you don't. If you do, they explode in a burst of pernicious magic. So is this what's this is all about? Doing some dirty work?"
>>
>>6124262
>"Master told me you don't. If you do, they explode in a burst of pernicious magic. So is this what's this is all about? Doing some dirty work?"
>>
>>6124262
>"Don't you have Crows for that?" You turn to Soralisa. "They seemed to have done a good enough job during the Eldritch War."
The QM Curse is when terrible luck befalls you preventing you from writing.
>>
>>6124262
>"Don't you have Crows for that?" You turn to Soralisa. "They seemed to have done a good enough job during the Eldritch War."
>>
3 to 2 for Crow option. writing in a bit
>>
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>>6124262

>>6124262

You cross your arms over your armour, making the hexagonal tassels crinkle.
Maybe it’s just this Asterite’s personality, but she’s allowing you to sidestep your usual shyness. You feel like you can speak frankly, and ripping a page off Rubida’s book, put some venom in your voice.

“I suppose you have Crows for that,” you reply, turning to Soralisa for support. She nods and sets the book back with the others. There’s so many shelves to cover the entirety of the walls — you doubt all of those are just her worknotes. But with a mage able to change text after it has been written, who can say? Soralisa gives you a faint smile of support. You certainly listened when she and Master explained the history of the Throne to you. “They have insofar proved useful enough. I’m sure the Emperor sure thinks as much.”

Sandora sets her head against her hand, looking at you with her usual amused smirk.

“Oh, he is far too paranoid to allow the rope tied to our neck any slack, I assure you. But yes that is usually a correct answer. The Throne has used Crows to keep us in line. Just look at the Throne funny, and your career as an Asterite will be cut short, in favour of a long career as a useful generator. Certainly one much less troublesome — but that is precisely the point here.” She taps on the glass vial. “This is Silt. It comes from the Borderlands, and it’s the substance we need to keep control over our bodies and minds when the Stars act through us. Without it, the magic inside us rips through our bodies, like a voracious tumour. An Asterite running out of Silt is first in line for elimination. But sometimes you can’t get to him fast enough. Sometimes, even the eyes of the Crows can grow dull. For example…” she waves her hand over an empty sheet of paper and the inks changes once again, raising from the page to form a structure — a hill, no, a building, no… that’s…

“… a Temple of Flame,” Soralisa gasps, getting closer to the ink structure.

[cont.]
>>
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>>6124772

The pyramid, the columns, the architecture screams Maduan influence, with its square base and the heavy geometrical bulk.

“Eight hundred years ago,” Sandora Mirari keeps explaining, “a group of evangelists from the Holy Land landed on the shores of what would become the Treviri Throne. They established a small community along the coast, and built a fortress-monastery.” The ink gets fuzzy — some of the pillars around the temple fall, and the structure tilts to the right a bit, but it does not fall. “During the expansion wars, the Throne seized on the momentary weakness caused by the death of Saint Bragia to try and seize this patch of land.”
“And it succeeded,” Soralisa sighs. “Save for the monastery itself.”

the Asterite nods.
“Which has remained standing, if empty, to this day. A memory of Maduan colonisation.”

“One you are not allowed to touch,” Rubida reminds her. “So—”

And then, maybe inspired by Ansàrra’s own insight, you connect the dots.
Sandora’s words on how to kill a mage.
The Crows being useless in this case.
The necessity for diplomacy between your two countries.

You feel yourself deflate.

“So this is Carnaval’s idea of diplomacy—”

The Asterite stops, setting her hands onto her lap.

“Oh my Stars. You get it now, don’t you?”

“What’s going on,” Willow asks, tilting her head. She keeps throwing looks around, and she seems on edge, but for now all you can think about is Carnaval’s words, and her concept of an ‘easy’ mission.

“One of yours crawled inside, didn’t he?” You ask, no — state — pointing at the inky structure. “The Throne is not allowed to walk inside, and the Crows answer directly to the Emperor, so that one is out. Second, any violent solution would risk destroying the Temple itself, and that can’t happen.” Especially, you add to yourself, for something tied to Saint Bragia like that. “Which leaves a diplomatic solution. Carnaval’s kind of diplomacy.”

Sandora Mirari nods. She seems impressed.
“Someone would have described you as much better with sword than with words, Madama Candente. Now I wonder if they were right.”
“Just… a hunch. It doesn’t happen often,” you reply with a faint blush. And what are you even blushing for? Praise from heathen lips! You certainly don’t need that. “So. That means, that the correct way to murder this Asterite is—”

“With four Knights of Ansàrra,” she agrees. “Oh, and an Asterite as well: that would be me! I received special permission from Carnaval to escort you inside the Temple. You are going to need a guide in order to deal with this. Everyone needs a teacher,” she chuckles.

You can hardly agree.

[cont.]

4chan was being extra anal and I had trouble uploading the update. had to switch browser. hope everything is fine.
>>
>>6124775


You raise your cup. The Asterite pours the amber liquid inside it. It’s thick and smells like honey and cinnamon.

“Are you sure there is no wine in this?”
“Not a drop. This is [i]sciàketrà[/i], from the hills around Marsevero. A specialty of our Academy, so to say.” She raises the bottle and pours a little more to Soralisa as well. “I can assure you it’s downright miraculous for when your head aches.”

You set it against your lips. It’s different from what you have tasted so far of Master’s hidden supply; it warms your tongue and cheeks and settles inside your stomach like a lazy snake.

“For a heathen liquor it gets a pass.”

“Much obliged,” the Asterite grins.
She fills everyone’s glasses and then goes back to sit at the desk.

“The name is Matimo Roncalieri,” she starts. “A third seat at the Academia, before his fall. He was considered one of the best — highly skilled, a hero of the Throne. Most mages have one Crow following them at all time. Roncalieri had three.” She taps on the vial of Silt. “We should have turned suspicious when his personal intake of Silt started to go down. He is an older Asterite, we just thought he was going to get some rest for a while, after a lifetime of accomplishments. Instead, we found the three Crows dead and a trail of broken bodies leading to the abandoned Temple. This was… two months and five days ago.”

“And why did you wait so long?” Soralisa raises her eyes from her own glass, which she holds quite firmly with her own hands. At least, throughout all this, it seems the armour is really helping her recover. “The mage’s degradation must have greatly accelerated.”
“By hiding inside the Temple he turned this from an internal matter to an affair involving the Holy Land,” Rubida explains. “Perhaps this treacherous Asterite is just trying to gamble for some time. Perhaps he has lost his mind. You said the degradation process is… unpleasant.”

“Melting wax can be unpleasant,” Sandora explains. “This is gangrenous magic, voracious and corruptive, growing hungrier the more it devours. The…” she points to her own chest. “— thing inside us always tries to take over, to invade us from the inside. Bone, skin, blood and soul — they are all but painting tools for its cruel hand. There was one of my students who fell to it right before I came here,” she picks one of the metal tags hanging off her necklace, half-hidden from her robes. “His name was Roberto.”

[cont.]
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>>6124776

For the first time since you have known her, there is a cool light of guilt flashing over Sandora’s face. Her jade eyes grow dark and cold.

“It was not a pretty sight.”

Soralisa shivers. She’s the only one among you who seems to have any first-hand knowledge of this degradation and what it entails, but Rubida, you notice, is stealthily rubbing on her offended arm. Master did say not all Stars are as evil, but—

“So,” you add, taking another sip of liquor. It does help indeed. “Carnaval sent us on this mission to kill this mage. This way the Throne gets to save face, pretending this came from Carnaval’s generosity, and our land gets to preserve an important cultural milestone.” You pause. “Compared to this the Trial of Flame is going to feel like an afterthought.”

Willow, sensing your foul mood, sets one of her hands over your shoulder, rubbing it softly. You cup it, grateful, but the gesture gets noticed by everyone else. Rubida gives you a faint smirk, Soralisa blushes and the Asterite rolls her eyes.

“Nevertheless, glory awaits,” Willow says, trying to lighten the mood. “I hope you can tell us a little more about this mission, Madama Mirari,” she says. “I am going to need to know where to aim my sword, at which part of the mage… or what remains of it.”

“It’s [i]Magistra[/i],” she corrects. “Speaking of which…” she brushes her finger against her collection of name tags. There must be a dozen hanging from her neck. “There is a little something I’d like to show you.”

>Go with Sandora to the bowels of the ship. There is something deep down you must see, apparently.

>Willow keeps being antsy, even more now that she tries to hide it. You should ask her what she thinks.

>Whatever the Asterite wants to show you, she'd better provide you with good reasons for it. What does she bring to the table anyway? So far she has just played with ink... is that all there is to her?

>[Suggestion]


this update was fun to write but a bitch to upload. hope the format is alright. thanks for playing... after this starting phase I suppose there will be a bit more rolling involved. get your dices nice and warm anon. thanks for playing.
>>
>>6124775
>“During the expansion wars, the Throne seized on the momentary weakness caused by the death of Saint Bragia to try and seize this patch of land.”
>“And it succeeded,” Soralisa sighs. “Save for the monastery itself.”
I wonder if the emperor stopped short of the temple on his own volition or if someone from the holy land had to convince him.
>>6124780
>Go with Sandora to the bowels of the ship. There is something deep down you must see, apparently.
down we go
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>>6124780
>Go with Sandora to the bowels of the ship. There is something deep down you must see, apparently.
Now properly spoilered
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>>6124798
there wasn't bits showing >>6124792 so I dunno why spoiler it
>>
>>6124801
Does no harm to be careful
>>
>>6124780
>Go with Sandora to the bowels of the ship. There is something deep down you must see, apparently.
We do not shrink from heathenry.
>>
>>6124780
>Go with Sandora to the bowels of the ship. There is something deep down you must see, apparently.

I am to curios for my own good lol
>>
>>6124780
>Go with Sandora to the bowels of the ship. There is something deep down you must see, apparently.
>>
>>6124796
>did he stop of his own volition

who knows. back then Carnaval was not even there, so perhaps something or someone else. those were times of upheaval... lots of things happened that nobody remembers now.

>>6124798
cute pics!

alright, 5 to 0 for following Sandora to the depths of the ship. let's hope you don't have to regret this... remember curiosity killed the cat, anon

writing
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>>6125299

Your curiosity will kill you one day.

Yet, if the Asterite is so eager to show you something, it may be vital for the mission. As it turns out, once you leave her private cabin behind, the rest of the ship shows its rough character, with the planks, rivets, bolted-on supports and hanging racks, groaning and moaning and creaking and crackling with every step and the lull of the sea.

Willow keeps looking behind her, closing the line that sees Sandora at the head, and you just behind her. The few mariners who cross your path bow down at the coming of the Asterite, lowering their gaze with a greeting muttered between broken, yellowed teeth. Not for the first time, the Throne shows how different it is when it comes to caring for its inhabitants.

Strange how the circumstances of one’s birth determine what kind of life waits for them — especially for someone like Sandora. You are born an Asterite, it’s not something you can become. Like a country bumpkin from the Mar da Candéa turned into an aspirant Knight. Truly Ansàrra’s benevolence knows no bounds.

Speaking of which, this makes you think about Willow. She’s still antsy, on the edge, and you’ll likely ask her what’s wrong as soon as you are sure the Asterite is not there listening; her senses are much sharper than the rest of you. You watch her shield her eyes from the bitter daylight peeking through the thin windows and openings of the ship. Earthen eyes, for sure. The circumstances of her birth.

Or her re-birth. Wonder where she’d end up to, if she had been reborn in the Treviri Throne, or in the murderous wastes of the Borderlands. Perhaps, all things considered, she got just as lucky as you.

“Ow!” You moan, kneading your forehead where you hit a wooden beam.

[cont.]

classic Argia. losing track of her thoughts and getting a wooden beam to the face.
>>
>>6125309

“Mind your step,” Sandora instructs you, with a regrettable delay. “The inner parts of the ship grow more and more cramped.”

“Could have said so before,” you reply with a groan as you five descend a short flight of stairs, going further into the bowels of the ship. The air starts growing warmer, so much you feel your skin get sweaty beneath your armour. There seems to be some kind of heat from below. An oven? A furnace, perhaps. You have heard of Frigéian monster warships that can move without wind or oars, and with the soldiers carrying those muskets… is she showing you the extent of the Throne’s dependence on Frigéia?

The next room gives on to a short hallway, more like a tunnel really, between metal pipes hissing hot hair like a nest of snakes. A row of small windows looks out onto the sea — and that’s when Soralisa gasps, reaching for the windows and plastering her face against the glass.

“How can this be?”

It takes you as moment to understand what she means. The wind pulls the waves behind itself, curling them in its wake… curling them… in the opposite direction of the ship. Frowning, you join Soralisa as your breath steams against the window, noticing how the waves rise, crest and smash against the bow. There are no oars on board. The sails… you are moving against the wind!

The Asterite looks at you with a faint smirk. She does not seem too proud of this miracle.

“Is this your doing?”

“Heavens’ Mill, no! I would consume myself even trying anything like this. Also, my Stars are not made for this kind of thing. Nay, it’s something else. I’ll explain, please follow me.”

Willow comes close to you, whispering to your ear:

“It’s probably some kind of engine. Some stuff I saw back there as well. It’s likely harmless.”

[cont.]
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>>6125310

“I surely hope so,” you reply, wishing for Willow to be right. She squeezes your shoulder faintly as you descend further down into the ship, the air now thick with warmth, to the point some of your hair gets stuck to your forehead. Plucking them away, you follow the Asterite, speaking to a masked man who walks back and forth, holding a metal tablet in his hands, which he keeps checking.

“Ah. Magistra— these rooms are forbidden to—”

“Don’t be silly now. We have guests. I want to show them the Sarcophagus.” The man stiffens.

“This is against protocol. I cannot allow you to proceed.”

“You cannot stop us neither.” She leans against him, her confident smirk once again pulling at her lips. “I, on the other hand, can make sure your next report shows some very interesting lines.”

The man turns towards you, his mask creaking and crinkling like some sort of mechanism is whirring inside, then he sighs and steps away.

You feel more and more relieved this terrifying woman is on your side. Or at least appears to be.
She advances towards a circular door, holding her hands up and something shifts inside, metal thrumming and scraping as the door starts to open, bit by bit. The air wheezing from inside smells like rotting flesh and burnt dross. It makes you retch. It reminds you of the reek of the Malostromo, but this one feels if possible even more raw, more primal. Like the cosmos itself was starting to get ill.

“There is an old saying in Marsevero, which the Throne has adopted,” the Asterite yells over the hissing, huffing noise of machinery coming from inside. The inner room reminds you of a huge windmill, with a core metal shaft slowly turning, huge gears that outs paddles into motion, rising and falling into the dark waters of the ocean. The metal, rusted and covered with the faint patina of salt, creaks and groans. More masked men turn at her coming, but they do not intervene, shaking their head and going back to their work, checking the moving pieces.

The air feels even fouler here. And it broils and contracts, like around a burning candle — like the men-candle, their heads turned into withering wicks, in the Well of the Seven Sisters…

[cont.]
>>
>>6125311

“I don’t know if it’s a saying you also have in the Mar da Candéa,” Mirari adds, cupping her hands over her mouth to get herself heard. She advances towards a rail and pulls on a metal lever. Heavy steel cranes and hooked chains start shifting pulling something up from the water. The ship slows down, its bulk groaning as something comes up from the black water, visible as a large spherical cocoon, like a wasp nest left to fester for a thousand years, seawater dripping below. That feeling of wrongness grows — it’s like someone fitted a spoke inside your stomach and was starting to stir. You reach for your cameo, praying for strength — the feeling lifts, a bit. “It would be ‘De ‘a busaca no se trà via nagott,’. Which in Maduan would be: ‘Every part of the pig finds its use’. The Throne believes this for pigs and Asterites alike.”

Oh.

Oh, Starless Night.

“That’s no engine,” Willow groans next to you.
“There’s one of them inside,” Soralisa covers her mouth with trembling hands. “I had heard about this but to see it with my own eyes…”

There is a noise spreading through the bowels of the ship. At first it reminds you of the tinny thrum you head in the Eye of the Sun, but this place is the farthest thing from the joyful and artistic craft of Candeloro. This feels messy, and punishing. Ah, of course — the Asterites did try to rebel once already. And pigs, so the Throne seems to think, ought to learn their place.

[cont.]
>>
>>6125312

The Magistra cranks the lever up and the cocoon falls into the bleak dark waters beneath, carrying the wail with itself. That nauseating feeling gets even fainter now. Sandora Mirari pulls away — is it just the light or does she also look quite pale?

“I asked you: how do you kill a mage? The truth is that there is no such thing as death for us,” she shakes her head. “We are just a shell, the colourful sheen of light upon a soap bubble’s surface. And we last just as long. It’s what’s inside us that’s eternal. A light, Madama Candente — a light that every other light devours.” Running a hand through her blonde locks, you see her jade eyes grow feverish. “When we die, either by the hand of a Crow, or by running out of Silt, or by some other accident, the Sarcophagus awaits our remains, forever and ever. Hence, I truly hope you will forgive me if I enjoy what little life I have left, before I join my kin.” She bows before the four of you, and then, standing up again, she adds: “I’ll need my beauty sleep, and then we can start to discuss how to make sure our rogue Asterite finds his use.”


>You spend the rest of the day discussing with Sandora how to deal with this threat. If a dead (undead?) Asterite is capable of moving such a ship, what could a Third Seat do?

>You decide to focus on training and praying. You'll deal with this by yourselves, excluding Sandora for the time being. Or at least trying to...

>Let's show your hand. The encounter with the Sarcophagus showed there's a reason for Sandora's quirks. You'll show her Carnaval's gift. Maybe it can help?

>[Suggestion]

One of the things I like the most about this quest is how it allows me to scratch all of my autistic poetic itches, and the last few updates definitely allowed me to. thank you for dare entering into my mystical realm. and for playing, I guess.
>>
>>6125314
>>You spend the rest of the day discussing with Sandora how to deal with this threat. If a dead (undead?) Asterite is capable of moving such a ship, what could a Third Seat do?
>>
>>6125314
>>You spend the rest of the day discussing with Sandora how to deal with this threat. If a dead (undead?) Asterite is capable of moving such a ship, what could a Third Seat do?
>>
>>6125314
>You decide to focus on training and praying. You'll deal with this by yourselves, excluding Sandora for the time being. Or at least trying to...
so a fucked thing, kinda like the Psi Titans from WH40K
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>>6125314
>You spend the rest of the day discussing with Sandora how to deal with this threat. If a dead (undead?) Asterite is capable of moving such a ship, what could a Third Seat do?
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>>6125314
>You spend the rest of the day discussing with Sandora how to deal with this threat. If a dead (undead?) Asterite is capable of moving such a ship, what could a Third Seat do?
>>
>>6125314
>You decide to focus on training and praying. You'll deal with this by yourselves, excluding Sandora for the time being. Or at least trying to...
>>As Willow if she has any special Earthican insight
>>
>>6125383
>a fucked thing

if the Asterites did not try to take over the Throne they'd probably be treated better. slightly better.

at any rate, it didn't happen and if it did happen they deserved it

4 to 2 for discussing with Sandora how to deal with this Asterite. writing...
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>>6125493
>special Earthican insight

I liked this suggestion and I'm going to further explore it in the future updates. it also allows me to better work the narrative angle I'm looking for. thanks anon.

>>6125807

After the horrible experience in the ship’s bowel, the air of the open ocean feels like a blessing. You take in deep breaths, together with the other three, while Sandora walks behind you, silent and pensive. Now that you know what kind of fate awaits even Asterites who faithfully serve the Throne, you can understand a bit more her extravagance.

You still do not approve of such lavishness. Comfort leads to corruption. And yet — she’s no merchant, that’s sure. The steel in her eyes when she spoke of her duty made you understand she understands there is more in this world than money. So, not a Frigéian, in the end, even if her methods are unbecoming.

“That was fucked up,” Willow whispers, coming up behind you and reaching out for your hand. You let her fingers brush against yours. She clearly needs comfort — she’s been antsy and worried since she entered the cabin and the sight of the horror down in the water has left her much worse, her face pale and her eyes sunken.

“At least it was not bees,” you attempt to lighten her up. She clicks her tongue.

“At least— yes. I suppose that I should be grateful.” You two lean over the deck’s parapet, while the Asterite picks up a plush chair with an open book set upon it and sits, closing her eyes. Her breathing changes immediately.

Rubida quirks an eyebrow.

“Is she…”
“Out like a light,” Willow nods. “I can feel it from here.”
“If she’s a teacher, she can teach me that trick, can’t she?” Rubida sighs. “I’d certainly need a good night of sleep. After this.”

Willow nods in agreement and looks towards the water, rushing against the bow. The wind has changed, but the ship’s direction has not. The mariners are busy wrapping up the sails. At this point, with the Holy Land’s shore far behind you and not visible anymore, you wonder how much of that was for show. To offer you a welcoming, familiar face, while the ship held such a terrifying secret.

[cont.]
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>>6125851

“To be forced to serve after death… or in whatever state that thing was —” Willow groans.
“Does it bother you so much? They are heathens, and they have heathen morals.”
“No, it’s just— listen, it’s fucked up,” she hushes to your ear. “It reminds me of some stuff I read back home. This is worse than the Sisters.”
“How so?” You quip. “Don’t you remember those people, turned into shivering wicks?”
“Yes, but that was— that. Those things are demons, the Throne is just like us. People. That’s different.”
“Evil is evil, no matter the source,” you point out. “You are giving a heathen kingdom built on slavery too much credit.”
“And there’s that too. I think I never realised how lucky I was to find myself in the Holy Land. Do you think they… do… things to… well, you know.” She taps on her chest and you understand.

Stranders.
If this is the treatment for their own citizens, who knows what they could do to someone like her.

“You are not alone,” you remind her, squeezing her hand. “Not here on the ship. And not in this world, remember.”
She bites her lip.
“You know how I feel about this, I—”
“I know, but we’re on a mission. Hold on to your faith.” You sigh. “No matter how faint it is.”
Willow shakes her head, but then she gives you a tentative smile.
“At least I know you won’t stick me into a metal box.”
“It’s a solemn promise,” you reply. “I believe it’s my turn to cheer you up, don’t you think so? After everything that happened, we ought to hold onto hope — I am going to save my family, and you are going to be the best Knight in a generation.”
“I hope in more than a single generation—” she pouts.
“You know what I mean. In moments like these, it’s important to have a little faith. We will make it.”

[cont.]
>>
>>6125853

# # # # # #


After the Eye of the Sun fired, the inhabitants of the coast thought it would be the most interesting sight of the day. Bit by bit, the lull of the afternoon came back to set every piece to its routine — the farmer to his field, the Priest to his temple, and the fisherman to his boat.

Right on the cusp of evening, one of these boats pulled up on the shore. The men onboard strode on waist-deep water, waving their arms for help, even if he sea was calm and the day — blessed be Ansàrra — sunny.

“We have something to report to the Priests of Flame,” they said, in a hushed murmur. They looked worn out, tired and expended, as if they had spent hours arguing, out there in the open sea. One of them held his right hand clenched in a fist, like in a rictus.

By the time they had secured the boat, a small crowd of curious bystanders had followed them at the Temple. One of the Priests, a woman, welcomed the two fishermen with a hand held up high.

“You won’t be able to enter the Temple right now. The inner chamber needs to cool down after using the Eye of the Sun. Please come back by morning.”
“It’s not about that,” cried out the mariner to the right. “Show her.”

And nobody could see behind the veil covering the priestess’ face, but they all heard the crease in her voice.

“One of the Knights we escorted on the ship,” said the other, holding out his clenched hand. “Did you see her hair?”

“Hair? No, wait — there was one wearing a hood.”
“She was wearing a hood because her hair was silver!” The mariner shouted, and a great shiver ran through the crowd, as they started to share hushed murmurs like a great cloud of roused bees. “And she was not old— she was as young as my daughter, and her hair was the colour of the Adversary!”

“And yet the noble told me she was considered blessed…” the Priest held a finger to the fabric covering her lips. “These are just hollow accusations. Do you have anything to base them on, besides the ravings of two heads cooked by the sun and sea?”

And the two shared a look, a nod — and the one with the clenched hand finally opened it, revealing — shiny like a glistening strand of spidersilk — a long hair as bright as the purest silver.

[cont.]

uh oh.
>>
>>6125856

# # # # # #


Exactly twenty minutes after Sandora Mirari first closed her eyes, you see her stand up, shutting the book on her lap and addressing you four.

“You are all still here. Good. I will sleep better next hour, knowing so.”

“Next hour?” Willow quirks an eyebrow.

“I thought your brunette friend instructed you on how us Asterites work.” She holds up a hand. “Our power comes from the Stars. Hence, most of it is only available at night. Daylight greatly weakens us. Also, notwithstanding this fact, we do need to sleep, so most of us only rest for a portion of hour at a time.”

“Does not seem practical,” Willow comments.

“Asterites who fell asleep and died would gladly disagree. I’ll make sure to carry your esteemed opinion over next time I visit the vaults of the Capital—” she sighs running a hand through her blonde locks. “Now, the second thing to keep in mind is that stars turn over the season. For some of us, our stars are visible all year around, but for some others, they disappear under the horizon and unless you take a long journey, you lose all your powers until they come back.”

“Oh! That’s why some Asterites are always seen on caravans,” Soralisa interjects. “I always wondered—”

“That may as well be one of the reasons. Perhaps they are just on an extended mission. The Throne is vast, from icy shores to desert.”
“What this means for our mission, then,” you say, trying to bring the conversation away from geographic notions to something more important, “is that it would be better to fight this Asterite by day?”

[cont.]
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>>6125858

“Your friend has a practical attitude,” she smirks. “I like it. Then again, she’s from Candéa. Practical people. But all my praise aside, yes, it would be a good idea. The point is that by now Roncalieri is likely degraded enough that these differences are starting to lose their meaning. According to the Throne’s investigation, he will complete his degradation on day six of the next cycle,” she points her finger to the planetary ring, where the planet’s shadow has reached the first of the six thin bands that divide it. It’s how you tell days apart — while Willow’s people usually divide the days in group of… seven — and that means you have…

“One day of travel to the Throne, and that gives us four days,” you groan.
“Less than I hoped, more than I feared. With a bit of luck, more than we need,” Sandora nods. “And this brings us to the matter at hand. I have less than a day to teach you the bases of how to deal with Asterites.” She takes a step back, checking you out one by one, then reaches inside her robes, pulling out a vial of ink. She pours it onto her hand, forming a black sphere of liquid. “I am going to need a volunteer.”

>You step forward. This is your responsibility after all.

>Rubida sighs and raises her arm. “As a noble, it’s my duty to further relations.”
>Soralisa raises her voice and her hands. “I am the mystically-gifted. It’s up to me.”

>Willow purses her lips. “I never liked wizards anyway.”

>[Suggestion]

# # # # # #

>The voting above will decide which character rolls for the following actions, so think this thoroughly.

As always thanks a lot for playing. Sandora is a blast to write, as always. Let's hope she stays alive until the end...[/spoilers]
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>>6125860
>>Rubida sighs and raises her arm. “As a noble, it’s my duty to further relations.”
>>
>>6125856
>filename
didn't it happen before this one ?
>>6125860
>You step forward. This is your responsibility after all.
we're the vanguard after all
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>>6125860
>You step forward. This is your responsibility after all.
>>
>>6125860
>Rubida sighs and raises her arm. “As a noble, it’s my duty to further relations.”
>>
>>6125856
Uhh... Well, you know, fuck it. Carnaval vouches for us.

>>6125860
>You step forward. This is your responsibility after all.
We are the vanguard.
>>
>>6125925
>didn't it happen

it probably be but I don't remember if I already told you about my extraordinary memory?

>>6126311
>Carnaval vouches for us

'I hereby allow Argia to do whatever the fuck she wants' wasn't it written on the underside of that crystal feather?

thanks everyone for playing, writing will commence shortly.
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>>6125860
>You step forward. This is your responsibility after all.
>>
>>6126833
>'I hereby allow Argia to do whatever the fuck she wants' wasn't it written on the underside of that crystal feather?
Kek, maybe not, but she sure sanctioned us to have silver hair!
>>
>>6126833
>shortly
e-ehtoo... bleh

>>6126890
and yet, someone could yet stir up a scandal out of this revelation...

final tally 4 to 2. I'm glad to see Rubida got some action tho. writing!
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>>6125860

You and Rubida share a look — she hesitates, almost walking forward. You know what she’s thinking: she’s the Maduan noble, it’s up to her to foster relations between two Powers. For a moment, you almost fall to that logic, letting her step ahead of you. Like it used to be, before the Well, before Soralisa’s sanction, and the Malostromo… and the festival, and your visions, and Carnaval and— everything.

It’s been barely a cycle since then.

You felt like the past few months have been compressed into a few days. The meaningful ones.
Which only leaves you one choice.

You are the Vanguard.

“I’ll do it,” you say, taking a step forward on the deck. Sandora nods, as if she expected this to happen. “So what—”

The Asterite holds out her hand, flexes her wrist and the sphere of ink bursts out into rows and rows of black needles. They glisten smoothly under the light of the setting sun, all of them aimed at you.

“You have a nice blade, Argia Candente.” Her jade eyes flow to your side, where the Malostromo’s sword rests. “Maduan tetracerarmide, if I am not mistaken.”

Frowning, you unsheathe it, holding it up in front of you. The white edge catches the light and cleaves it in twain.

“It has served well so far.”

“A bit too well,” quips Willow from behind you. “She was dangerous before, she’s a downright menace with it now.”

“I-I couldn’t even land a hit on Master,” you rebut, your cheeks growing a bit warmer.

“A menace? That is reassuring. I wouldn’t have to start from the very beginning. Teaching children is so dull,” she smirks, a bit of her old edge coming back to her face now that she seems to be recovering from what she showed you in the depths. You groan. You liked the other version better. “But perhaps we can get something out of this. Now, for your first task—”

You plunge your sword into the bridge’s wood. The blade eagerly cuts through it like butter. Sandora’s eyebrows raise at how easily it ate the reinforced steel rivets.

[cont.]


shoutout to anon's based pic of Argia's sword!
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Rolled 28, 79, 34 + 5 = 146 (3d100 + 5)

>>6126981

“I have only one Master,” you remind her, “and I will not be talked to like a child. This play of yours to speak to us with sufficiency is starting to make my blood boil, Sandora Mirari.”
“Oh,” she replies as her grin grows sharper. “And doesn’t this mission’s success walk on such a thin line, then?”

“A line that can cut deep. You’d better remember it.” Pointing your finger at her, you add: “We are Knights-to-be. We seek understanding, not pandering. You shall treat us with the respect our Land deserves, or pay the consequences of mocking the very light of the Sun.”

“Hmmm,” she muses. “There’s steel in you, despite your looks. So be it. I’ll take the gloves off.” She flicks her wrist and three more vials float next to her, exploding in more ink that starts to float around her, a black shawl squirming like a serpent, poised to strike.

You pull your sword out, raising towards her, and you touch Bragia’s cameo. May Ansàrra temper your anger into a righteous blade.
Deep breaths.

You feel your vision focus on the Asterite’s body. She’s full of openings, close, soft.
So apparently easy to cut down.

“What was this first lesson supposed to be about?”
“Something simple, as a start: teach you how Asterites fight. Your task would be trying to cut through my ink with you blade, and…” she reaches inside her robes and puts on her blonde head a small red hat. “… make my hat fall off my head.”

“Astounding.” You wouldn’t have been so bold months ago, but after everything you went through, you wouldn’t allow a second-rate Asterite mock you, your abilities, and Master. “What happens if I cut it off?”

“The hat?”
“For the present.”

The Asterite grins. A flash goes off in her jade eyes.

“I am known as a generous teacher, I—”
“Your cloak.”
She blinks.
“The one you wore. I’m going to take that.”
“And if you fail?”
“You are the teacher,” you reply, sharing a quick look with Rubida. What would she say in this situation? Ah… “You are supposed to reward your students, not punish them. Aren’t you generous?

The Asterite laughs.

“Prompted my students do earn their rewards. Very well. Come and get it, Argia Candente.”
“Sharp is the Dawn,” you repeat, rearing into the Lion stance, muscles tense and your sword as still as the roots of the mountains. “And boundless.”

The Asterite lowers her hand and the ink flows towards you.

>Combat (Sparring) Roll: beat at least 1 of my rolls. You get a 1d100+19+10+6 from righteous anger, total 1d100+35, against my 1d100+5.
>You have a Nat 97-100 critical success range.
>I’m going to roll 3d100 first, you should compare your results to those 3 rolls first.
>Remember that comparison is read roll versus roll (roll1 vs roll1 etc.)
>Remember that dubs and trips apply bonuses

And may the Sun lead your hand.
>>
Rolled 17 + 35 (1d100 + 35)

>>6126984
Asterite correction needed.
>>
>>6126984
I think we already won, but let's make it a stomp!
>>
Rolled 78 + 35 (1d100 + 35)

>>6126990
woops
>>
Rolled 51 + 35 (1d100 + 35)

>>6126984
>>
>>6126988
>>6126991
>>6127003
we beat all 3, nice
>>
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>>6126988
>Asterite correction

you're lucky it's still day

final results:

33 84 39
vs
48 113 86

you will all three... and even got dubs. looks like Ansàrra is definitely with you. but then again you were voted cutest Knight!
>>
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>>6126984

I did not think you'd crush Sandora so thoroughly. good job anon.

The sunset glints off the white edge of your sword and plays with the sheer layers of ink speeding towards you, changing shape, turning into needles and blades.

They wheeze through the air like a whip, edged on by the mage’s swift hand.
But they are slower than Master.

You duck beneath a slash of inked blade, your body’s movements so sharp you can feel your muscles tense — the Lion stance helps you dance between the Asterite’s projectiles. Some impact against your body, but compared to your latest mock fight, when you had to face Master’s impossibly-sharp weapon with barely a few layers of clothes on, you are clad in Carnaval’s other gift, and the tetraceramide blocks every hit from the Asterite’s liquid, breaking over the surface like stormy waves upon the rock shore, flowing in black drips down your armour.

A flash of understanding goes over the mage’s face and she raises her other hand, taking a step back to lure you in. You welcome her offer with a smile upon your face, jumping ahead. You are getting closer to that damn hat.

But as you get closer, the net of needles closes in on you, turning into a sash of black liquid. Even the droplets of ink pull back, adhering to your armour, clutching onto every tassel and every plate, like a squeezing hand of metal holding you in place.

There seems to be no escape.

# # # # # #

Master holds you in his grip. It’s like wrestling with a mountain, the pressure is far too high to bear. He’ll break you, he’ll—

“You are tightening up,” he warns, “the hard rock gets brittle under pressure. You have lived by the inland sea all your life, Argia. What does water do between rocks?”

And that is when you get it, like a burst of understanding between layers of fear, pushing awareness past your animal instincts.

Flow.

[cont.]
>>
>>6127437

# # # # # #

You let out a deep breath, relaxing all your muscles. For just a moment, the liquid gives you just enough room to move your wrist.

It’s enough.
You turn your blade towards yourself, and slash at the liquid holding you with the blade. It cuts through it like paper. The glint of victory in the mage’s jade eyes turns into a flash of shock as you push through her grip, the tetraceramide helping you, your determination helping you, but above everything else…

… you already had a teacher.

You push through and pierce through her defences, the blade cleaving through her sheaths of ink and striking right over her head, piercing her hat.

Sandora Mirari looks up, and sighs.

She lowers her hands, the ink flows back into her vials.

“I liked that hat,” she comments, pulling it off your blade. “Now I’ll have to get it fixed.”
“Someone would say fabric is easier to fix than attitude,” Rubida murmurs from her spot. “Sun-Birther, I am glad you decided to face her, Argia. I wouldn’t have known what to do.”

“Oh, it’s all Master’s training, really,” you shrug. “He put me through the grinder! Those were intense years,” you recall with a fond smile. “There was that time when he had me carry buckets of water over my head for a week and—”

Sandora pulls her cloak off her shoulders, folds it and hands it over. It feels extremely soft and smooth even beneath your fingers.

“I wanted to show you how you are supposed to change your thinking when facing one of us,” Sandora sighs. “Some of us feel more like facing forces of nature than human opponents.”

“Some of you, surely,” Willow grins.

You really should hold on to your other kind of training and refrain from the sweet poison of pride, but… hearing her teasing the mage like that makes you feel so warm in your chest.

“I will refrain from commenting it is day yet,” the mage adds. “And as I mentioned, our powers are greatly reduced by daytime. I think the lesson I wanted to share did go through. For both of us.” She gives you four a bow. “I may have held you four in less regard than you deserved. Will you allow me to share what I need to during our mission? Oh, and please remember to wash that cloak only in cold water, please.”

[cont.]
>>
>>6127438

“We are here to work together,” you say, sheathing your sword and bowing your head to the Asterite. You hand her hat over. “I won’t say this is the start of a good friendship, but if Carnaval vouches for you I can now do the same. Besides, Master will like this cloak when I tell him where I got it. Soralisa, please watch over it.”

You turn to give it to your brunette friend who immediately starts checking the intricate fabric, noticing what looks like words sewn on its inside.

“This is a work of art…”

“I had it made in the Borderlands,” Sandora explains. “A keepsake from my time there. Nevertheless, I’m sure your Master will appreciate it. Now, we have a few hours until sunset, so as my powers increase, I think we will have dinner and a discussion. What would you rather know?”

>You will try to be friendly with Sandora, especially now that your combat skills helped show her you are to be treated seriously.

>You will keep aloof during your conversation.

and also:

>You will further train and discuss this threat to tightly include Sandora into your group’s tactics.

>During discussion, you will prefer to keep Sandora’s own style of combat to itself.


double choice this time! thanks for playing -- you absolutely dominated her. though her bonuses would have been different if this fight had happened at night, but pride is such a troublesome flaw, even for an accomplished Asterite. now let's see what you find out... and how.
>>
>>6127437
>“You are tightening up,” he warns, “the hard rock gets brittle under pressure. You have lived by the inland sea all your life, Argia. What does water do between rocks?”
>And that is when you get it, like a burst of understanding between layers of fear, pushing awareness past your animal instincts.
>Flow.
Argia Lee
>>6127439
>You will try to be friendly with Sandora, especially now that your combat skills helped show her you are to be treated seriously.

>You will further train and discuss this threat to tightly include Sandora into your group’s tactics.
>>
>>6127439
>>You will try to be friendly with Sandora, especially now that your combat skills helped show her you are to be treated seriously.
>You will further train and discuss this threat to tightly include Sandora into your group’s tactics.
>>
>>6127439
>You will try to be friendly with Sandora, especially now that your combat skills helped show her you are to be treated seriously.
>During discussion, you will prefer to keep Sandora’s own style of combat to itself.
Friendly and cordial, sure, but can we really trust a heathen witch to be a part of our nakama?
>>
>>6127439
>You will try to be friendly with Sandora, especially now that your combat skills helped show her you are to be treated seriously.
>During discussion, you will prefer to keep Sandora’s own style of combat to itself.
>>
>>6127439
>You will try to be friendly with Sandora, especially now that your combat skills helped show her you are to be treated seriously.
>You will further train and discuss this threat to tightly include Sandora into your group’s tactics.

It would be foolish not to work out how to fight together if we're going to be part of a team
>>
>>6127439
>>You will try to be friendly with Sandora, especially now that your combat skills helped show her you are to be treated seriously.
>>During discussion, you will prefer to keep Sandora’s own style of combat to itself.
>>
>>6127473
>be friendly 1
>include 1

>>6127521
>be friendly 2
>include 2

>>6127595
>be friendly 3
>don't include 1

>>6127636
>be friendly 4
>don't include 2

>>6127989
>might be good thinking
>>6127989
>be friendly 5
>include 3

>>6128062
>be friendly 6
>don't include 3

hmmm. clear victory on being friendly with her, but last-minute tie for second option. I'll deal with this during writing and it will be likely subjected to further vote later on.

for now, updating...
>>
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>>6127439

It’s the first time you have dinner while at sea.
The first thing that hits you is how different atmosphere feels compared to your recent stay in the Holy Land. The mariners keep to themselves, some of them even comparing their plagues on their half-naked bodies, so sure that their trip will save them.

You bite your lip. It’s like Sandora said, it’s not your task to enlighten them, at least not now. And if you did, they’d probably revolt against the Asterite. The oily sensation you are doing something wrong tightens around your heart.

“Let it go,” Willow whispers next to you, as the last few golden rays of sunlight play with her brown hair, making them shine like copper. “We can’t do anything right now. Perhaps if we had all the time in the world.”

“I still do not like it.”

“You have a lifetime to correct all sorts of wrongs, Argia,” she adds setting a hand over your shoulder.

“This would need my help now.”

“As do I,” she scoffs. “And all of us. There is something else on this ship, and I’m not talking about that undead Asterite inside the engine. I don’t like it either, but I need you focused. You are the one who must hold us together.”

“I— you are asking much of the girl who can’t keep her head in one place and opens doors with her face,” you counter, referring to what happened when you descended, hours before.

“Carnaval is asking the Knight. I’m asking the girl,” Willow brushes her fingers against your shoulder. “You need to do this, Argia. We are counting on you. If you want to blame someone, blame yourself.” She smiles. “You are turning out to be far too dependable for your own good.”

[cont.]
>>
>>6128121

You sigh, rubbing your neck nervously. If only Master was there — he would tell you what to do. And this is precisely the reason why you had to leave him. A tree does not grow without water and soil and sun.

“So be it. What about the Asterite?” You glance at Sandora, speaking animatedly with Soralisa, as the two sit at the table. She has insisted on eating on the deck, and you have to admit that the view of the open ocean, with a few twinkling stars starting to peek through the veil of night which fades in from the west, almost makes this worth the bother. They seem to be discussing something about Sandora’s cloak.

Your cloak.

“What about her? She has yet to prove herself completely trustful, but you did well in including her for today’s discussions. I think Rubida would have been locked into an endless loop of power-play with her, Soralisa would keep nerding out like she is right now and as for myself…” she huffs. “I don’t like damn wizards. I would have probably skewered her like a boar.”

“Not very diplomatic.”

“I’m not the head of this mission.” She smirks. “My destiny is to be the most powerful Knight ever, not the best. I think that’s your call.”

“That seat was taken long ago,” you reply, rubbing your hands against the cameo. “Any other, uh — Earthian insights on her?”

“I wouldn’t know. I feel like there’s something around her. Or perhaps someone. I wonder why nobody can feel it! It’s getting on my nerves something fierce! Dammit!”

If you are correctly interpreting Willow-speak, she’s clearly worried by this presence. Something you can’t see, someone you can’t… oh.
Oh.

“It’s her Crow,” you hush, whispering against Willow’s ear.
“The assassin? Hm. You could be right. Really, you couldn’t perceive it at all?”
“Not even a change in the air.”
“Tch,” Willow clicks her tongue. “At least now I know it’s not going to try and take my head. Or yours. So… how about dinner?”

[cont.]
>>
>>6128123

# # # # # #


And dinner it is.
Sandora, once again, proves herself to be quite the conversationalist — the little morsel of her power she gave all of you during the late afternoon has given you a first-hand glimpse of what she’s capable of, but it’s clear that she’s here as a guide, rather than to tackle the rogue Asterite on her own.

“We could do it on our own, of course,” she says between the courses, as silent mariners take care of your dinner, making sure none of your glasses is ever empty, none of your plates either. “But not when Roncalieri shut himself into the Temple. In all likelihood he’s by now already mutated into some hideous form, secluded himself inside the nethermost chamber, and waiting for the real trouble to begin.” She scoffs. “We should have taken him out a long time ago.”

“Why wait, then?”

“The Emperor, blessed be his name,” Sandora rolls her eyes, “hates us almost as much as he needs us. Without Asterites, the Throne would collapse under its own tremendous weight. As the Stars turn, and cycle of elective births wanes, we are getting ourself in need of more and more capable bodies. It’s one of the reasons why I have reached the rank I hold. There is no one else who can do what I can do.”

“Play with ink,” Willow suggests, picking up a delicious slice of roast. It has been seasoned to perfection. And you are on a boat. Again… privileges. “Is that it?”

“Ink is often found in books. Documents. Statements. Wills. And so on and so forth… the Throne is a slumbering giant that eats its own knees, and sometimes the only thing keeping it from stumbling is one less zero in the right place, or a signature, or a word.”

“You are a forger,” Rubida tilts her head.

“I’m the cane in the hand of a blind cripple,” she shrugs. “The stronger his grip, the more important the cane becomes.”

You sigh. This is decidedly not the right conversation to have at this moment.

“We have yet to decide how to include you in our formation,” you say out loud, bringing the topic back where it ought to be. “I am the Vanguard, as we discussed, but I have yet to decide where you’d be more useful.”
“Or more vulnerable,” she adds with a hint of grin on her lips.
“There is only four sets of armour here.”

“It’s not a matter of armour. Roncalieri will be already seeping into the Temple’s stones as we speak, twisting its very foundations. It will be similar to what you experienced with the Malostromo, only much worse.”

“We already had experience with that,” Willow muses, tapping her fingers over the table. “That must be another reason why she chose us.”

“Be as it may, we have yet a bit more time to train,” you point out. “I suppose sleep will bring us counsel.” A pause. “Sleep and prayer.”

[cont.]
>>
>>6128124

# # # # # #


You lay on your knees, hands clasped over your lap, as finish your recitations. You feel a little better. Sending your thoughts off to Ansàrra always helps to keep you calm. Connecting to someone far greater than your limited scope, a note finding its way back to a full song.

The others have already left. It’s hard to shake off the habit of taking night shifts to check on your surroundings, even when your surroundings is just water — and stars — and that ring of silver, reflected in the waves.

“You will admit it is beautiful,” the mage’s strained voice reaches your ears and you whip your head to check on her. She’s rubbing her eyes as she stretches, standing up from her chair, after her usual nap. “I’m a bit cold so far out. I do miss my cloak. I’d probably walk downstairs to pick up a blanket…” she walks up to you and cranes her neck forward, looking at the endless rows of pinpricks. Stars of every shape and colour, rolling about in their tireless dance — six of them burning brighter than others.

“I’ll be mounting guard for a while yet.”

“There is no threat that would hit this ship.”
“Habits, Madama Mirari,” you reply with a shrug. “And I like to stay up sometimes, praying.”

“And that, yes,” the Asterite agrees. It’s a bit harder to see the shade of her jade eyes in the silvery night light, but you spot there is something else beneath it.

“Do you ever pray?” It’s a tentative question, but you still feel like asking.
“The law requires only the Throne is worth of divine right. Emperors come and go, but the Throne stays.”
“You pray to an empty chair?” You really don’t understand.
She chuckles.
“We believe in the power of the State beyond that of single men, Madama Candente. The great families of your homeland believe in the power of their blood and the echoes of their Kiengiri masters. Frigéia believes in the power of commerce and the Revolution. The Throne is kept together by fear and habit. The ties that bind us make us stronger. Men pass, stone stays.” A pause. “Or at least that is what law demands.”
“What do you think we believe in?”
“You were not kind with me during our sparring, I shall extend the same courtesy,” she chuckles. “Your Sun goddess heals your wounds and promises you bliss under her wings. You only have to give up your soul for that.”


[cont.]
>>
>>6128126

You hesitate. The recitations do speak of the afterlife as eternal contemplation of Ansàrra’s mind, one with the bliss of the Sunbirther. To take part in the final song, all of you with your own proper voice. To sing together with Kishirra and Bragia, as equals under Her light…

“I don’t believe in Ansàrra because She gives me something back,” you whisper. This is a conversation you only ever had with Master, but something inside you feel inspired. “She merely gives me all I need: an open path between me and her enemies, strength enough to wield Her wrath, and compassion to share peace with my friends and one day with my family.”

“Your Goddess extends your life, heals your ailments, cures your illnesses, gives you good land to toil and clean water to drink.” She shakes her head. “She gives you all this, paying it all out of her own flesh, and you think she gives it all for free? That is a foolishness I don’t want to have any part in.”

She does not understand.

“It’s not that Ansàrra gives it all for free,” you reply, watching the Asterite. You hated her, for a couple hours, then felt pity for her, then… you could live with her presence while you suggested strategies, but now you feel for her something you felt for Willow before. The tug on your heart that you get seeing a lost creature, holding itself onto sheer rock, unable to climb higher and unable to let go. “It’s that She does give it at all. That someone would do so much for us.”

Sandora shakes her head.

“I fight night and day — and especially night — against a nameless force for ownership over my soul. I’ll gladly hold onto it rather than give it away to someone else for a warm meal and clean water. I already have both, anyway.”

“I don’t think Ansàrra owns my soul,” you reply. “I think She would take good care of it when it is time, though.” A pause, as you recall something you heard in the town. “We haven’t seen Saint Kishirra be reborn again in more than a thousand years, haven’t we?”

“I suppose we did not. Not yet,” she adds, raising her gaze to her sky.


>You remember Willow’s words. “Is your Crow around us right now?”

>Maybe it’s just because you just finished praying, but wouldn’t you repeat your offer? A late conversion is better than no conversion.

>You decide to let go of this kind of discussion. There’s still the matter of how she fits into your group. You'd rather talk about that.

>[Suggestion]

my plan is finally complete, at last there is theological speculation on /qst/. also, this and the next update may not seem like much, but as you will see, these words and your next ones will be exceedingly important. as always, thanks for playing.

oh, and we ARE getting off this boat. it's a promise.
>>
>>6128131
>>You remember Willow’s words. “Is your Crow around us right now?”
>>
>>6128131
>You remember Willow’s words. “Is your Crow around us right now?”
>>
>>6128126
>“We believe in the power of the State beyond that of single men, Madama Candente. The great families of your homeland believe in the power of their blood and the echoes of their Kiengiri masters. Frigéia believes in the power of commerce and the Revolution. The Throne is kept together by fear and habit. The ties that bind us make us stronger. Men pass, stone stays.”
"I die, the state remains." - Louis XIV
>>6128131
>You decide to let go of this kind of discussion. There’s still the matter of how she fits into your group. You'd rather talk about that.
>>
>>6128131
>You remember Willow’s words. “Is your Crow around us right now?”
>>Will he or she help us, in the fight to come?
>>
>>6128131
>You remember Willow’s words. “Is your Crow around us right now?”
>>Will he or she help us, in the fight to come?
>>
>>6128131
>You remember Willow’s words. “Is your Crow around us right now?”
>>
5 to 1

'is this Crow in the room with us right now?' always has been

>will he or she help us?

interesting suggestion. writing.
>>
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>>6128131

At this point it’s useless to try. You let it go. It’s not your duty to try and share the light of Ansàrra with those who shut themselves off from it.
And yet, Willow’s words echo in your mind.

“I wonder if your Crow is here with us.”

Sandora frowns.

“She certainly is.”

So it is a woman. For some reason you thought otherwise.
“I was just wondering. Salicera felt her presence.”

“Now that’s just ridiculous.”

“You have seen how antsy she got back in your cabin. I know because you must have noticed it; after all, you seem to know everything about us.”

“I’m a teacher,” she replies, as if that would explain everything. Besides, that’s not an actual reply.

“Is she going to fight with us or against us? If you get attacked in the Temple—”
“No Crows in the Temple, please remember.”
“Before that, then. We are putting our trust in the Throne with this mission. Will she hinder us?”
“Perhaps the other three. There is something in you, Argia Candente. Some kind of… thread. I can’t foresee, it’s not my gift — blessed be the Stars it’s not — but I feel that if my Crow were to try and hinder you, there would be other forces stepping it make sure this would not be the case.”

You scratch your neck.

“Perhaps. I have had… I feel…”

The Asterite tilts her head. You wonder if you can trust her with this information. Then again, perhaps she’s the only person knowledgeable enough to give you a different perspective on things. Being a foreigner, a former-heathen, coming to the Faith always felt like putting someone else’s clothes on.

You felt this with the difference in the Kishirra tradition. Maybe…

“I have visions sometimes. I hear the voices and I feel the scent. It’s like I’m walking in someone else’s memory — I don’t know what this means, but you are right on that account. The Sun-Birther feels closer at times. I don’t if I should be worried. it certainly feels like this pressure is too large for my shoulders to bear.”

The Asterite gives you one long look, then shifts her eyes towards your cameo.

“You carry that on your chest. Do you know what it is?”

[cont.]
>>
>>6128732

“Master’s gift. He gave it t—”

“That cameo is made of ivory. Hand-carved. Approximately six hundred to six hundred and thirty years old, and it’s the very first icon I have ever seen in my life that shows Saint Bragia holding a mace rather than her signature weapon.”

“I know. Master said it’s just because it’s old. There were mistakes in the artwork, I think. I don’t really see what you mean.”
Sandora shakes her head, running her fingers through her blonde locks.

“You have given your life to Ansàrra. When you’ll pick up your votes, you will give your goddess your soul as well. And for all that, you are tracing back the steps of Saint Bragia. Who knows why, who knows what for. In your shoes, I would tread very carefully, Argia Candente.”

“I am not walking alone,” you reply. “I believe that is enough.”

The Asterite lets out a long sigh.

“I know how you feel about me. That I am a lost cause to you and the Faith.” She gives you a smile, too sweet to be insincere. “The feeling is mutual. Try to hold on to your soul before it disappears.”

“I’ll try to do my best. It is what I always do, and Ansàrra is kind enough to make it enough. Is there anything else?”

That smile again.

“Not for tonight, I believe. Thank you for the conversation, Argia Candente.”

“I can’t say this feeling is mutual.”

[cont.]
>>
>>6128733

Followed by the Asterite’s chuckle, you walk downstairs, towards the cabin, where you can finally get some rest. There is more discussing and training tomorrow… and you will need to spend more time in prayer. What may she mean, tracing back the steps of Saint Bragia?

It makes no sense to you. Perhaps you should speak about it with Master or—

You stumble against someone.
Willow.

“Apologies,” you say.
“S-Sorry, my bad,” she replies.
“Your bad? Did you do anything…”
“Just another expression o-of mine. Are you going to sleep?”
“Yes.” Then you notice her expression. “Is something wrong?”
“I—” her eyes search for something behind you. “I was just—” her hand presses against her left side of her chest, hidden by her armour. “I just felt a bit antsy, that’s all.”
“Again? The Crow.”
“Y-Yes. Maybe I should get a bit of air.”
“If you are going upstairs, you are going meet the Mage.”
“Then at least I’ll know where the Crow is.”
You blink. You are a bit too tired for arguing, and Willow’s argument does make sense.
“Just let me know if you need any proper help. Oh, and don’t listen to her in matters of faith, she has all sort of weird incomprehensible ideas…”
“I know,” she replies with a quick nod. “I know.”
“That’s reassuring. Very well. I will see you tomorrow. For the morning prayer, please. Don’t make Rubida wake you up again.”
“I’ll do my best!” She jumps upstairs and disappears.
You wait a few moments, just in case she starts to argue with the Asterite, but all you can hear is the soft creak of the ship, the far-off rumbling of waves and perhaps just an echo of that horrible sound from the heart of the ship…
No more time for such thoughts.
You find a couch next to Rubida’s sleeping form and throw yourself on it. Praised be Carnaval, your armour is so light you don’t even have to take it off, and soon the darkness lulls you into a temporary peace.

>In less than two days you should reach the Temple. You should train with Sandora as much as possible, perhaps rest during the day and train at night when she can truly show you what she’s capable of.

>You will spend the next day planning with your companions. You have seen a bit of what an Asterite can do, but against such forces, only one thing can truly help you… faith. You should focus on Sanctions.

>Besides anything else, Willow worried you. You better make sure she is fine, especially before entering the Temple. Last time she saved your life… you feel like it’s your responsibility to know her better.

>[Suggestion]


well, it’s been a nice update to write. let’s hope Sandora and Argia find a way around their differences. As alwaysthanks for playi— uh?

When she woke up, Argia was nowhere to be seen.

[cont]
>>
>>6128737

Maybe she was praying on the deck after dinner, so Willow has decided to try and join her. Perhaps they can talk, and maybe resume what they were doing during the festival. It’s been a few days, but she can still feel the pressure of Argia’s soft and warm lips against her own.

Oh. it looks like the update doesn’t feel like finishing just yet.

After their last conversation, Argia has really shown her kinder side. Admitted there is such a thing. She is always so gentle and understanding… she understood her the moment she revealed her origins. And she has supported her dreams so far. Her goal. Her destiny. Even if Argia’s faith sometimes feels a bit stifling. It reminds her of her old home of—

Her trained senses make her stop right the moment she sticks her head out of the stairs and onto the deck. Argia is already speaking with someone — someone who is not her, which is not good — it’s the Asterite, her blonde figure stark against Argia’s armoured body. They are speaking to each other about something… something related to faith.

She rolls her eyes. She certainly wouldn’t want to stick her head in that kind of argument. She’ll just wait for the Asterite to leave and then—

“Your Sun goddess heals your wounds and promises you bliss under her wings. You only have to give up your soul for that.”

The Asterite’s words make her freeze on the spot. Give up your soul. Give up your soul. Give up your soul for Ansàrra. This sounds like… exactly like— oh no. No no no. And something sizzles against her chest. No. It can’t be right. Feeling like an icy spear pierced her stomach, Willow silently steps back, hiding herself in a secondary room at the base of the stairs, where she can be alone, where she can be certain she is alone, because cramped as it is, not even the Crow would find enough room to get in.

She shuts the door and takes off her armour, revealing the vials of hallowed oil she is carrying with her. Since the last time she could stock up on them, three have been consumed. The fourth sizzles and burns like hot oil, as the grey worm inside wriggles and twists.

I did try to tell you.

[cont.]
>>
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>>6128742

“That means nothing,” Willow shivers. But the words were exactly the same. Back then, she did not give them any thought. Another lie on the mountain of lies this worm kept whispering into her ear. “It’s not true.” /You only have to give up your souls./ No, that couldn’t be: Argia would not trust someone like that. But what about /her/ soul then? The soul that had survived so far? If she kept down this path — would she truly truly disappear?

A stone-heavy fear clutches her chest, while the worm squirms inside its vial. “It’s not true. It can’t be true.” And yet the thing refuses to reply. Refuses to answer. After being so chatty over the past few days, always whispering its venom into her ears — but she refused to listen, for Argia’s sake — but now, when the Asterite had more or less confirmed what this thing said…

Footfalls from above. Willow quickly puts the thing under her clothings and sets her chest piece back into place, getting out to climb the stairs again. Argia is walking down. Thankfully, she’s daydreaming, as usual. So she didn’t notice. She wouldn’t notice.

Perhaps not until it is too late. For her and you too, the worm whispers to her ear.
… and now it is actually over. Remember that the votes are on the update above. And thanks for playing. Now let’s just hope Willow keeps her head on her shoulders, hm?
>>
>>6128737
>Besides anything else, Willow worried you. You better make sure she is fine, especially before entering the Temple. Last time she saved your life… you feel like it’s your responsibility to know her better.
>>
>>6128733
>“That cameo is made of ivory. Hand-carved. Approximately six hundred to six hundred and thirty years old, and it’s the very first icon I have ever seen in my life that shows Saint Bragia holding a mace rather than her signature weapon.”
oh, damn we have an heretic cameo. I wonder why no one commented on it before.
>>6128737
>Besides anything else, Willow worried you. You better make sure she is fine, especially before entering the Temple. Last time she saved your life… you feel like it’s your responsibility to know her better.
>>6128742
>The Asterite’s words make her freeze on the spot. Give up your soul. Give up your soul. Give up your soul for Ansàrra. This sounds like… exactly like— oh no. No no no.
>>6128745
>After being so chatty over the past few days, always whispering its venom into her ears — but she refused to listen, for Argia’s sake — but now, when the Asterite had more or less confirmed what this thing said…
fuck, don't listen to the heaten, Willow. she doesn't know how ansarrà works.
>>
>>6128737
>You will spend the next day planning with your companions. You have seen a bit of what an Asterite can do, but against such forces, only one thing can truly help you… faith. You should focus on Sanctions.
>>
>>6128737
>Besides anything else, Willow worried you. You better make sure she is fine, especially before entering the Temple. Last time she saved your life… you feel like it’s your responsibility to know her better.
>>
>>6128737
>>You will spend the next day planning with your companions. You have seen a bit of what an Asterite can do, but against such forces, only one thing can truly help you… faith. You should focus on Sanctions.
>>
>>6128737
>Besides anything else, Willow worried you. You better make sure she is fine, especially before entering the Temple. Last time she saved your life… you feel like it’s your responsibility to know her better.
>>
>>6128782
>why no one commented on that

it's a very small detail. and so far you have avoided showing it about too much.

>don't listen to the worm

Willow is having a bit of a moment

>>6128804
vert nice pic

>Check up on Willow
4

>Focus on Sanctions
2
>>
>>6129248
>don't listen to the worm
>Willow is having a bit of a moment
I meant the asterite, actually. but tbf I think she could see her as an worm as well.
>>
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>>6129299
>meant the Asterite

oh, my bad

>>6128745

The dawn catches you feeling better. The Asterite is gracious enough to lend you her cabin’s shower.
You come to know this when you catch her stepping out, naked besides the ribbons of steam covering her slender body. She is covered in scars all over. Who knows how deep she wandered into the Borderlands…

“… until the centre,” she replies with a smirk.
“Uh?” You ask with all the sharpness of a mattock. You just woke up, after all.
“It’s what most people ask in their head when they see like this. ‘Where did she get those?’ And ‘How far did she explore to look like that?’. Until the centre, Madama Candente. There is no ‘wheres’ else to go, in the Borderlands.”

You are bit too out of it for this kind of witty retorts. You still need to pray, after all.

“That’s great to know,” you sigh, stepping inside, followed by the Asterite’s chuckle.

Taking off your armour, you take a very quick shower. You doubt that even on the ships of the Throne hot water is in large supply. As you rinse yourself, you check on your scars, those that come from your childhood, those that come from your training… and as your fingers brush against your chest, those that came from your latest mission.

Blessed be Ansàrra, the scar is almost completely gone, leaving just a line of pinkish skin.
You don’t ever want to go back to that Well, unless the Sun-Birther were to demand it.

Once out of the bathroom, you notice you are alone — not even Willow is there. Maybe you should go looking for her, make sure she’s still doing fine. Wonder if the Crow is in the room with you right now… you certainly can’t perceive her.

If she is, this means she’s getting a good eyeful of you, though. Blushing hotter than the scalding water in the shower, you quickly put your clean clothes on, as well as your armour, and walk upstairs on deck.

[cont.]
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>>6129635

The early morning air catches your face, making your silver hair drape about your head. Still no sight of Soralisa and Rubida, but you spot Willow leaning against the ship’s wooden edge, looking down at the water. The Sun has just risen and it bathes the world in its golden light, still too early to be full white, bouncing off the planetary ring, it’s no wonder Willow is leaning away from the sun. Her eyes must be stinging.

“At dawn, we wake up with good thoughts,” you say, joining her.
“Doing my best,” she sighs, turning her eyes away from the sea to look at you. “Not that it seems to matter much.”
“You are troubled,” you say setting you hand over her arm. “Want to pray together?”
“Sure,” she shrugs.

Her careless reply makes you feel uneasy, but you remind yourself you have to be patient with her.
Sitting on the deck, you face together, joining your hands.

“At dawn, we wake up with good thoughts,” you start.
“By midday, we have shared good word with each other.”
“And by eventide, we have done good deeds.”

Willow nods, but she doesn’t seem convinced.

“Is there anything you want to tell Ansàrra? perhaps if we join our voices we can reach the Sun-Birther, we—”
“I don’t know what to do,” she says, biting her lip. “I have never given it much thought. I always wanted to be… you do understand that with what happened to me,” she lowers her voice to a whisper, and you lean forward a bit. She clearly does not want to speak about her past here on the boat. “I am looking for a new chance, don’t you? I want this chance to matter! I want to live my best life, after all I’m… I’m…”

“You are?”

“Back there you would say ‘I’m the protagonist’,” she sighs, rubbing her eyes with her free hand.

[cont.]
>>
>>6129636

“Dammit, this light stings.”
“A story has to finish before it turns into legend,” you say, trying to understand what Willow is so worried about. Sometimes Earthian minds and thoughts feel so strange, so alien. “If that is what you are worried about. Or are you afraid you won’t have strength enough? You should—”
“No, it’s not that. I’m just… I wonder if I’m in the right place. How can you—” She hesitates again and you give her time, until she finally says in a shuddering whisper: “How can you trust Ansàrra to treasure your soul once you have given it up?”

Oh.
That means…

“Did you listen to the conversation I had with the Asterite, yesternight?”
“Perhaps.” It’s so strange to see Willow flustered, fragile. She’s used to be on stage, at the centre of attention. So skilled with her sword, so incredibly perceptive, and yet now she looks like a wet kitten abandoned in the rain. May the Sun-Birther lead your words, you have never been great at this. But perhaps being honest will suffice.

“Then you know what I answered. I trust Her with my soul because She has trusted me with her grace beforehand. It won’t be an exchange. It is a matter of trust.” You hold onto her hand a little tighter. “One of the reasons why I am so devoted to Saint Bragia is because she was just like me: not particularly clever, or strong. She was far from the most-feared Knight, even when she was alive. But she was the greatest, because she trusted Ansàrra. Just do the same.”
“I— I trust myself. I trust what I can do, and I trust my own confidence.” she bites her lip, her beautiful face turning dark with memories she is not ready to share. “I know what I am here for.”

“I do not,” you chuckle. “Perhaps that is the point. Willow…” She jolts as you use her real name, but you continue. “The Temple we are going to visit was built to celebrate Saint Bragia. Perhaps you can find inspiration there, just like I did. And if you do not want to—” it would pain you to see her leave, but if she’s not ready to entrust herself to Ansàrra, it would not be right to push her to. “I’ll just say that it’s pointless to attempt the Trial of Fire in this state.”

“Of course,” she winces. “No matter anything else. My skills mean nothing, I suppose.”

[cont.]
>>
>>6129638

“Nobody’s skills mean anything,” you reply. “It’s not those making you great. Making you a protagonist. Saint Bragia wasn’t the most skilled either, and yet she’s the protagonist of a dozen dozen’s legends. But it wasn’t up to her.”

“It will be up to me,” she says, withdrawing her hand from yours. “I’m sorry, but you just don’t get it, Argia.”
“Willow—”
Then her gaze focuses past you and you stop, turning your head to see the Asterite walking on the deck, together with the other two of your companions.

“Extended breakfast,” says Soralisa with a large smile. She’s… holding the tray all by herself. Willow’s words left a sour taste in your mouth, but the sight of your first friend getting better is more than welcome. “Anybody wants some heathen bread? It’s almost as good as the one back home!”

“I’d say it’s better, our bakers have to work twice as hard when they don’t have anywhere as good weather to work with,” Sandora muses, picking up a slice already covered in butter. “But this is the ship of diplomatic ties, so I’ll keep my mouth shut.”

“Most good teachers don’t even need to waste words,” you add, as a sting from your previous interaction. You pick another slice and hold it out for Willow to take. “Here.”
She sighs, and takes it — you two share a look, but she’s the first one to lower her gaze and withdraw once again.

Not good.

“The morning turns into full day,” Sandora says, “we should reach Thronelands tonight, when my powers will be at their most refined. We should use our time wisely.”

“It might be good to do so with Sanction training,” Rubida says, rubbing her hand affectionately on Soralisa’s armoured shoulder. “Now that the best among us feels better.”
Your brown-haired friend blushes, but you can’t say Rubida is wrong.
>Spend the morning and day resting. You’d rather use your energies when the Asterite is at her best, so she can give you more efficient training.

>Train during the day, and rest later. Soralisa should be able to give you all plenty of help.

>Train a bit during the day and a bit during the night. This would hardly give you enough focus, but it may be more useful in general.

>[Suggestion]

Stranders and their self-serving ways... someone needs correction, fast. let's hope you can give it to her... and as always thanks for playing.
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>>6129639
>Spend the morning and day resting. You’d rather use your energies when the Asterite is at her best, so she can give you more efficient training.
>>
>>6129639
>>Train during the day, and rest later. Soralisa should be able to give you all plenty of help.
>>
>>6129639
>Spend the morning and day resting. You’d rather use your energies when the Asterite is at her best, so she can give you more efficient training.
>Take a moment to tell Willow that the only 'toll' that Ansarra takes for her blessings is the one taken at the time that it's given. The exhaustion that we all feel when using sanctions. The...physical effects, for more demanding ones, such as the one that Soralisa used. Those are the only prices she exacts from her petitioners, to distribute her burdens fairly and make us more resilient against that which lurks in the night.
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>>6129639
I wonder if Willow would have more or less success if she were, I don't know, Christian or Muslim? On the one hand, putting your soul in the care of a higher power wouldn't feel so alien to her. On the other hand, sure sounds like heathen idolatry, what with the nudity and girllove and lack of recognizable prophets and messiahs...

>Spend the morning and day resting. You’d rather use your energies when the Asterite is at her best, so she can give you more efficient training.

We should ask Willow about her experiences with Earth religion sometime. Could help save her soul for Ansarra.
>>
>>6129639
>Spend the morning and day resting. You’d rather use your energies when the Asterite is at her best, so she can give you more efficient training.
>>6129711
>I wonder if Willow would have more or less success if she were, I don't know, Christian or Muslim? On the one hand, putting your soul in the care of a higher power wouldn't feel so alien to her. On the other hand, sure sounds like heathen idolatry, what with the nudity and girllove and lack of recognizable prophets and messiahs...
good points, althought the maduan nudity seems more akin to indians than to voyeurism/exibitionism
>>
>>6129745
Well, apart from the fact that in societies where women routinely go topless and it isn't regarded in a lewd, breasts usually aren't admired or talked about in the way ours have been. Different strokeways for different folkways, I guess!

On a more serious note, Ansarra being essentially subbed in for good old jealous Yahweh would probably be a bigger issue, lol.
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>>6129639
>Spend the morning and day resting. You’d rather use your energies when the Asterite is at her best, so she can give you more efficient training.
>>
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5 vs 1 for training under the Stars.

>>6129680
very interesting suggestion. It will appear when the subject matter comes up again.

>>6129711
>>6129745
>Willow of Abrahamic faith

interesting question. when she dies she was in her angsty teen phase. a true believer would certainly have trouble with how Ansàrra runs the show, but probably not with the presence of a god there. This kind of thing could even work with Christian eschatology up to a certain degree.

>we should ask her about Earthen religions

great suggestion! this may come in handy sooner than you think...

>Maduan nudity more akin to Indians

it was inspired by art visualisation of certain divine figures - one of the thing I noticed was how none of them wore clothing, this at a time when Adam and Eve would be covered and clothed. concepts such as shame are only related to earthly minds, after all. beings like Carnaval and the Stilladìa feel above such petty concerns.

or maybe they can't find anything good in their size. happened to me.

>>6129755
>Yahweh and jealousy

very good point. I was discussing this concept with friends the other day and I realised how close certain narrative assumptions at the base of the quest's themes develop from the philosophy of Giordano Bruno. Namely, the glory of God shown in an infinity of worlds. I suppose it's something Argia herself would have no trouble accepting - if other worlds exist, and they do, they must have their own laws and their own gods. So getting stranded in the Holy Land would probably be more difficult to an average Christian than to someone who studies his theology, or Argia, who (wisely) just goes with the flow.
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>>6129639

>Spend the morning and day resting. You’d rather use your energies when the Asterite is at her best, so she can give you more efficient training.
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>>6130444
nice trips!
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>>6129639

“Last time we trained, we did not allow our host to fully use her abilities,” you say in the end. “We will rest and get more sleep, ready to train at night. I hope that meets your suggestion, Madama Mirari?”
“It’s Magistra,” she huffs. “But I am glad you agreed. Now, you four can find ways to entertain yourselves, or you can involve me as well. Remember I will need to rest occasionally to keep my sleep cycle at the ready.”

“What happens when we get into the Temple,” you wonder. “Are we supposed to let you rest once every hour?”

“Starry Wisdom, no!” She chuckles. “I am perfectly able of staying up for a little longer, I did it yesterday, didn’t I? I may just need more time to recover when all this is over.”
“That’s good to know. This also means we should probably involve you in the way we do things. How many Knights of Ansàrra have you trained with, before?”

That gives the Asterite pause. She sets her finger against her lips, thinking.

“Not very many. I was deployed either in the Thronelands or close to the border — there the stars are strange, and Ansàrra’s dominion is faint. Also, you four have different ways of fighting and acting compared to what I am used to.”

“How different?” You tilt your head, curious.

“Most Knights I have met seemed to be more worried about their place in the hierarchy and how their actions would beget Ansàrra’s favour than anything else,” she replies, tossing a quick jade look towards Willow, who frowns.

“I—” she opens her mouth but you raise a hand and — lo and behold — she stops, biting her tongue.

“Most Knights have not faced the Seven Sisters and lived to tell the tale.”

“Nor performed such a wondrous Molten Spring,” Soralisa reminds you with a smile.

“We have learned how to work together. All of us—” and you turn to check on Willow, who blushes and lowers her gaze. “I think that is the think that makes us different.”

“Very well,” Sandora states. “Now, I have still about forty minutes before I go to sleep again. Who wants to have full access to my library for a while?”

Soralisa’s arm shoots right up.

[cont.]
>>
>>6130475

# # # # # #


Rubida reaches you after lunch. You feel a bit woozy, trying to sleep as much as you can. Willow has shut herself into a clam-like silence, holding onto her chest and laying on one of the couches downstairs. She has ignored even Soralisa’s plights, which would have been usually enough.

“I know you noticed it,” she says, sitting next to you, her armour creaking next to yours. From downstairs you can still hear Sandora and Soralisa’s soft voices as they discuss this other the other passage in the Asterite’s books, arguing over interpretations and sources. At least your brown-haired friend seems much more lively.

“I don’t know what to do about it.”

“You are the only one Salicera opened up to,” Rubida sighs, resting her head against your shoulder. You let her. “It’s up to you now, Vanguard. The shackles of command, hm?”

“I did not— wait. I thought you knew her far better than me. She’s the genius St—” you catch yourself just in time. “Skirmisher, isn’t she? E-Even Master said as much.”

“I know very little about her, mostly what the rumours said, and she confirmed every one of them. I thought I wouldn’t be another of those sheep and start looking up to her, but I started doing it just as much. She’s just so confident. You can see the light of Ansàrra shine through her.”

“Indeed,” you say, biting on your lips. Oh, you thought it would have been easy to keep Willow’s secret, but now it is scratching and gnawing at your chest like a panicked rat. A voice int he back of your head whispers chillingly — it would be so easy to just get a hint from Rubida. She doesn’t have to know everything. She’s so shrewd, so smart. She would know what to do.

You squash that voice like a worm.

[cont.]
>>
>>6130477

“She’s been anxious ever since we set foot on the ship. I thought it was just because of the Crow.”
“She can perceive the Crow?” Rubida’s eyes grow wide. “She— oh, Starless Knight. That is… may dawn be relentless, it’s beyond impressive.”

“It’s just the way she is. Which has me even more worried. Did you come here to suggest anything?”

“Perhaps just to find a shoulder to sleep upon. The couch is too soft, it hurts my neck.”

“I see, so you are just using me as a pillow, and that’s the extent of your wisdom.”

“Appreciate the support you are offering to a Maduan noble, country bumpkin!” She playfully slaps your thigh. “Maybe by sunset’s time, you will have found a solution.”

“I might just wake up and go talk with her. Then you’d lack support for your poor neck.”
“I can live with it. Now stop talking, Candente. Your betters need to rest ere they stand up all night to watch you best Asterites at the peak of their power.”

You catch the sly smile dancing on Rubida’s lips. As always, she’s throwing lopsided compliments at you. But you are getting better at catching them.

After a few more moments, you decide to join her. You do need to sleep, and this anxiety over Willow is taking you nowhere. You will find a way to help Willow. Perhaps blessed insight will visit you while you slumber.


[cont.]
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>>6130479

# # # # # #


You follow the last few embers of sunlight fading beneath the horizon, the ocean turning dark and colder than usual. The wind has died with the day, but you can still feel it in your face from the self-moving Throne ship. This time, you received no insight while you were sleeping, you just woke up to one of your silver locks braided, forming four knots.

Weird. Rubida denied it being her.

You seriously do not like this Crow and her past-times.

Joining Willow, who is sitting all alone, reading one of the Asterite’s books, you try to muster up a conversation. What would you tell her? That you found a way around it? That you can show her souls live forever even after they give themselves to Ansàrra? She should be the one leading you in this sort of matter anyway! She is the Strander, she already showed she can die and come back!

But it’s as if she’s been listening to invisible whispers in the air, as if someone muttered ugly truths and half-lies into her ears while the rest of your slept, shattering the confident young woman you remembered her being.

“I will be with you in the Temple,” you say, holding your gloved hand out. “I want you to be there with me.”

“So you can show me I was wrong.”

“So I can show you I am watching your back,” you reply, putting a bit of bite into your reply. You wouldn’t have been able to speak so confidently before — but the Argia who helped Soralisa, who did everything you did so far, can do so. “And you better watch mine.”

“I’d do it if I was blind,” she scoffs, but then takes your hand and stands upright. You pull her into a hug.

“Trust me, Willow.”

“Hard to do it with anyone else. You are the only one who earned it,” she replies with a sigh. Her thumb rubs gently on the back of your hand. “The only one.”

“I’ll hold onto it.”

[cont.]
>>
Rolled 33, 29, 30 + 63 = 155 (3d100 + 63)

>>6130482

You hold onto Willow’s arm as you two walk back to the centre of the ship’s deck. There the Asterite, Soralisa and Rubida are waiting for you. Sandora’s Jade eyes rolls at the sight of your entwined arms, but she doesn’t say anything. She just waits for the very last embers of sunlight to disappear from the sky — and when the diamond-pierced blanket of night starts to truly drape the horizon, she holds up a hand. This time it’s not three vials who float besides her. It’s not seven. It’s — twenty? Thirty? From ever hole and cranny in the ship, more vials of ink appear, gladly spilling their contents about, covering wood and iron into a slick black sheen, which glistens faintly at the light of the planetary ring.

At last, she raises in the air herself, floating just a couple inches over the deck.
“Ah—” she groans. “It’s been a while… now, as I did tell you beforehand. Asterites like the one we are going to fight change the space around them. I’d like you to try and just grab and hold me. You can use anything.”
You unsheathe your sword, toss a look to Willow, who nods.

“Playtime is over, I get it.”

She unsheathes her own sword, and the hard glint in her grey-tipped eyes tells you that, at least for this training sessions, you have the usual Willow back.


>Training Roll: roll 1d100+20, Bo6 (you are rolling for the entire squad, so it's an average of your bonuses). Beat at least one of my rolls.

>this is an average roll, so you only get critical successes on a nat 100.

>dubs and trips apply, as usual.


let's see if you keep slapping her ass.
>>
>>6130486
Sandora please stop rolling like shit
>>
Rolled 39 + 20 (1d100 + 20)

>>6130482
>This time, you received no insight while you were sleeping, you just woke up to one of your silver locks braided, forming four knots.
>Weird. Rubida denied it being her.
>You seriously do not like this Crow and her past-times.
alright, we're correcting this bratty crow
>>6130486
>Sandora’s Jade eyes rolls at the sight of your entwined arms, but she doesn’t say anything.
https://youtu.be/Thw3cv_INQU?t=25

let's go with the rolls, also damn what a difference from the bonuses
>>
>>6130488
I mean, with a +63 bonus, it isn't that shitty of a roll
>>
Rolled 94 + 20 (1d100 + 20)

>>6130486
>>
Rolled 61 + 20 (1d100 + 20)

>>6130486
>>
Rolled 73 + 20 (1d100 + 20)

>>6130486
Watch this nat 100
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Rolled 95 + 20 (1d100 + 20)

>>6130486
>>
>>6130901
>two rolls over 90

this Asterite may need to switch careers
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>>6130916
She can always join the faith. :)
>>
Rolled 49 + 20 (1d100 + 20)

>>6130486
>>
you manage to beat TWO of her rolls. it seems like this group of 'dykes' really can show her a thing or two.
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>>6131510
If this was a non-canon omake, surely we'd be showing her a thing or two MORE. bow chika wow wow
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>>6130486

Knowledge is Night,, the Asterites say. You heard the words from Sandora’s own mouth a few times already — and you’ll have to concede that she is absolutely right. At least when it comes to the difference in power they get when the sun is down. The tide of blackness that rises over you and your companions is like a flood breaking through banks and dykes, taking everything over in its fury, leaving behind just sheer blackness.
“Tch,” you click your tongue, facing the wave of blackness approaching you, rising into the sky to block any light. What you fought before was nary a dribble.

“Rubida, cover!” You shout, stepping ahead and flashing your sword, cleaving through the wall of darkness, which immediately wraps around you. Rubida, behind you, dashes towards Soralisa, who is muttering a prayer and holding her hands together, which are starting to glow gold, the last candlelight in the world of darkness. Rubida uses her axe to carve herself a path, protecting the most frail of your group. Behind you, you feel Willow hesitate.

You didn’t even see her, you just perceived her breathing change. Perhaps, yes — you are becoming more in tune. Just in time.

Willow steps ahead just as the ink wraps around you — you relax your arms just as Master taught you, but the Asterite does seem able to learn from her mistakes. She raises a hand and the strength of the grip grows so strong you feel it press against your chest like a boulder. Choking, you fall on your knees, plunging into the sea of darkness.

“There will be no room for mistakes, in the Temple,” you hear Sandora’s voice, stern and clear as glass, reach your ears. “The power of a Third Seat is choking, overwhelming. What will you do when your mere strength fails, when your muscle tears, when your bones break?”

“Whose bones?!” Willow shouts over her voice. Her sword forgotten, she tears the ink off you, her gloved hands reaching into the texture. If it has to find purchase, it has to tighten, and if it has to tighten… it can be broken. “We will just do like we did before,” she spats, freeing your leg, then your arm, turning to regard the Asterite. “Defiant to the end.”

And there is something else you noticed, when you felt the thing tighten around you…

[cont.]
>>
>>6131610
>a thing or two more
perhaps

>>6131614

“Then you better start thinking of new strategies,” the Asterite scoffs, rising both hands. The tides of darkness turn into a hail, a barrage of nails and spearheads, flowing against you like a storm of black steel.

You just have the right intuition. Or rather —

You grin, thanking Saint Bragia for the idea. Molten spring, indeed. You pull Willow close to you.

“I’m the Vanguard. I’ll deal with it. Go help Soralisa and tell her: d’oro è corda che cce lega.”
“What?”
“Just do it!” You swiftly squeeze her shoulder and push her away. Willow blinks but does as you say, as you instead advance, cutting through Sandora’s hail of needles with your white-edged sword. Thank the Sun-Birther for tetracerarmide. Just like Kishirra’s armour plaques.

You feel your two friends battle to protect Soralisa, who keeps praying, trying to hold onto the growing light inside her hands. You attempt a quick look — Willow shouts something you can’t hear at Soralisa, whose brown eyes go wide — and then something hits your in the shoulder.

“Stay focused during class,” Sandora quips. “I appreciate your efforts. You are coordinated, and that will be invaluable. I just want you to focus on different strategies.”

Oh, this Asterite has no idea.

“Isn’t hacking and slashing enough?” You shout, advancing towards her. That’s right. Keep her attention on you. Focused on you. You are the threat. Certainly not poor, isolated Soralisa. The cripple of your group.

The one Willow and Rubida have to jump around and sweat and dash back and forth to protect from the black tide.

“Definitely not. As for your friend over there—” she directs her efforts towards the three girls behind you, sending a huge wave of black ink to swallow them. Then the needles push you down, pinning you to the deck.
Night swallows you.

It feels — calm. Welcoming in a soothing way that’s so different from the nothingness you felt in the Well. Perhaps Master was right when he argued not all Stars are created equal.

But you still prefer the Sun.

[cont.]
>>
>>6131617

“What—” you hear Sandora’s voice muse, and then raise into a pained shriek. The ink withdraws from you, and she pulls away from the mantle of ink, uncovering her arms and legs, covered in red blisters. She groans, walking back. As you stand up, the heat instead just flows through and past you, just like it happened with the Molten Spring.

“I—I did it,” Soralisa’s creaky voice resounds, as she looks at her own hands, still holding a glowing golden light, which scatters over the broken black surface like the sun reflected upon the shore. “I— was blessed. She passed through me and I did not burn.”

“Soralisa!” You shout high, dashing ahead to pull her into an embrace. “I knew the Sun-Birther would bless you! I knew it!”

“What did…” Willow looks confused, her breathing hard, as the Asterite keeps groaning in pain.

“I thought you did know,” Rubida explains, kicking a poodle of slow-moving ink with her armoured boot. “The words you relayed, they came from Saint Kishirra.”
“Did they?”
“They were… hmm, Argia I think you can put me down..:” and you comply, setting her onto the deck. “They were the words she said when she passed her own trial.”

You nod.

D’oro è corda che cce lega. Ché no v’é notte sanza Stella, e con l’Alba l’ombra annega,” you two recite in echo.

“It has turned into a powerful Sanction ever since,” Rubida confirms, draping her arm around Willow’s shoulder, who looks at you bewildered. “The heat transferred through the ink.”

“You put this in the hands of Ansàrra,” she mutters.

[cont.]
>>
>>6131621

“Who else?” You grin.

From behind you comes a choked laughter.

“Ah, it stings! Worse than midday in the desert, when I walked between the glass seracs in the heart of the Borderlands! I knew you would find something, when pushed!” She smirks. “Even if I had to pay the price for it.”
“Wait—” you take a step towards the wounded Asterite. Her skin is full of blisters and boils. She can barely breathe. “You thought we would do this?”
“Not this specifically. I would have rather not, it hurts like a bitch,” she chuckles, reaching into what remains of her clothes to open a vial — you tense up, but this one glistens like diamonds. It’s Silt. She smears the powder all over her lips and her eyelids flutter. “But— I’ll be fine with a few hours sleep. Rather… ah… unfh, I’m rather happy I did not waste my time with you four. Apologies if I ever underestimated the Knights of Ansàrra.” She closes the vial and falls on one knee. “Class… dismissed.”

She crashes forward on her face, on the ink-stained deck.

“I’ll do it,” Rubida scoffs, walking towards the fallen Asterite. “Soralisa is already spent, and I can manage a healing Sanction or two. It will make for good practice.”

You watch her go, and Soralisa quickly joins her.
“Wait! I can help! I’m fine, I am not tired in the least! Rubida!”

You and Willow are left alone, looking at each other.


>You didn't expect Willow to understand your reference, which Soralisa did. You should tell her once again she has your support.

>You decide to help with the healing. You could even learn a thing or two [chance to increase your Sanction bonus]

>You know Salicera. You are starting to understand Willow. Swords before words, perhaps a bit of training with her will clear both of your minds [chance to increase your sword bonus]

>[Suggestion]


apologies for the format mistake at the start. you still got great rolls. I wanted to show the interaction between you and your friends (and make Soralisa shine!) with this update, and those rolls gave me a great opportunity. Now, this will be your final update completely on the boat, so if you have suggestions before things take a serious note, it's your moment. As always, thanks for playing.
>>
>>6131625
>You know Salicera. You are starting to understand Willow. Swords before words, perhaps a bit of training with her will clear both of your minds [chance to increase your sword bonus]
>Chat Earthian religion a little, though you must be cautious lest the Crow overhear you
>>
>>6131625
>>You know Salicera. You are starting to understand Willow. Swords before words, perhaps a bit of training with her will clear both of your minds [chance to increase your sword bonus]
>>
>>6131625
>You decide to help with the healing. You could even learn a thing or two [chance to increase your Sanction bonus]
Our melee-reliant heavy hitter has way higher bonuses than we do, but our sanction-related heavy hitter doesn't. It's our group's weakest point right now. Let's increase our sanctions.
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>>6131625
>You know Salicera. You are starting to understand Willow. Swords before words, perhaps a bit of training with her will clear both of your minds [chance to increase your sword bonus]
>>
>>6131625
>You decide to help with the healing. You could even learn a thing or two [chance to increase your Sanction bonus]
>>
>>6131892
>nice pic!

overall interesting thinking in the votes. I'll start writing in about 60 minutes so you have one more hour for voting.
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>>6132200
I'll vote for whichever option gets Argia to interact with the Ship Cat.
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>>6131625
>You know Salicera. You are starting to understand Willow. Swords before words, perhaps a bit of training with her will clear both of your minds [chance to increase your sword bonus]
>>
>>6132204
Fair to be desu.

>>6131734
I get that thinking, but Soralisa's heart is in this, and Willow's is... Not.
>>
>>6132220
thanks for voting. overall, 4 to 2 for Willow/Sword.
>>
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>>6131625

Like always — swords before words. You pull Willow in one of the ships’ secluded rooms. It’s empty, save for a tiny hammock someone built in the corner. Wonder what that’s used for… but right now you don’t have time to think about this.

“Take your armour off,” you say, starting to do it yourself.

“What?”

“I want this to feel real.”

You take off your chest piece, showing your cameo and your shirt — Willow frowns, shakes her head, and her cheeks flaming, she starts to reach for the joints in her armour.
“Please turn around.”

It’s not like her to be so modest, but you comply with a shrug. It’s her choice. When you turn back, Willow has taken off her entire armour, laying in a pile in the corner. She tosses it one last antsy look and then she faces you, already raising her sword. You do the same, pacing back and forth — the silver light from outside cuts through the darkness. Willow would hold another advantage like that — her low-light vision is far better than yours.
You do not really care.

“Is the Crow nearby?”
“No.”

“That’s a relief.” You choose the Lion’s stance, aiming your white-rimmed sword at her.

“Why are you so worked up now?” Willow asks, as you dash to her right. She parries your lunge easily, as if an afterthought, even with the overwhelming advantage of your weapon compared to hers. “What happened?”
“I can’t see you like that. Hence I have decided to peel off the layers you cover yourself with, one by one.” You allow yourself a smirk, rising your weapon again. “I have my peeler right here.”
She sighs.

“I’m not in the mood for a fight, Argia. Especially not a fight with you.”
“Think of it as training, then!” You dash again, and once again Willow easily parries your swing, sparks flying off the edge of your swords.

[cont.]
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>>6132292

You trade blows for a while, and each time more sparks fly, which allow you to get a glimpse at her face: ever more confused, and hollow. You keep pushing, and each time Willow is there to lazily intercept your sword. You have to push your whole body unto it, while she can casually fend off your blows with her arm.

When you break sweat and your breath starts turning ragged, you pull back, running a hand through your hair. You haven’t struggled so hard — even against the Asterite, something inside you always reassured you of victory. Now—

“What is bothering you?” You shout, lunging forward for another swing, which she swats to the side. “I can feel it. No lies, remember?”
“No lies,” her brown eyes dance towards her armour, and then come back to you. “I did tell you none. I am—”

“You have been strange ever since you set foot on this ship.”

“That was because of the Crow.”
“And then after you heard me and the Asterite discussing.”

“I—”

“I can’t have you in this state. Not during a mission. It bothers me.”
“For the mission.”

“For you,” you blurt. “And for the mission. As well.” Blushing, you finally lower your sword. This might have been a trivial training session for Willow, but to you — maybe because she was putting so little effort in into it, you felt like you have started to understand her skills a little better. She’s so different from Master and yet so capable. You should be able to learn from both.

“I—” she hesitates again, draws her arms to her chest. “I’m afraid, okay?”

You nod, prompting her to go further.
“About what the Asterite said. When I died, I thought I would disappear — and then I woke up like this, here. But I still had my soul! What happens if I— If I—”

“I don’t know. I trust Ansàrra will take good care of your soul.”

“But if you don’t know…”
“It’s because I don’t know—” you add, “that I need faith. It would be an exchange otherwise. A trade.” You frown. “A merchant’s view of the world.” You sheathe your sword and walk to Willow, pulling her into an embrace. “I won’t entertain such a vision of the world.”

[cont.]
>>
>>6132293

She doesn’t reply, but bit by bit you feel her relax in your arms, her muscles growing softer, and her heartbeat slowing down.

“I’m not sure I can do the same. I’m not strong like you,” she croaks. Her voice feels so fragile. Ever since you came back from that town… it’s like Willow has turned into a different person.

“We’ll be strong together. As I said, you may be surprised about what we could find inside that Temple. It’s like I told you before — there is no need to be strong. Nobody is strong enough. I certainly am not, I think I showed it right now as well.”

“It’s different, with swords,” she complains, but just holds onto you, and you hold onto Willow. The Strander girl. So many legends and stories about self-assured, mighty Stranders, and so few about the fact they had lost everything that tied them back to their once-home… lost to the currents of the word like flotsam.
You can't force her.
You can only show her the way.

Some time later, you feel something brush against your legs. You both look down and Willow’s streaked face finds some colour.

“That’s a cute kitty.” She crouches to let the animal sniff her fingers and when the white cat feels confident, it bumps its head against her hand, inviting Willow to scratch its neck. “Why is there a cat here?”

“It must be the ship’s cat. It’s customary to keep at least one. Ships tend to be rats’ breeding grounds.”
“I had no idea ships held cats…” she murmurs, drying her tears. “I’m so stupid.”
“We all are,” you smile, helping her stand again. The cat circles around you two a few times, then jumps on the tiny hammock and stays there, looking at you two with a sleepy gaze.

You take turns petting its back, and between a purr, a sigh and a meow, you can hope that Willow feels a little better.
She still asks for you to turn away when she puts her armour back on.

But you don’t mind. Not… not really.

After your exchange and your cat adventure, you both reach for the cabin, and let slumber catch your tired limbs. Tomorrow you will reach the Thronelands.
>>
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>>6132295

There will be no more time for second-guessing yourself.
Nor second chances.
Your last thought, as your hand clenches around your Cameo, is hoping everything goes well — Ansàrra willing.

Some time later, you wake up in the middle of the night, as something settles on your lap.
It’s the ship’s cat.

>Your sword abilities have increased: +2 to all checks with a sword! (Character sheet updated)


>Next day, you will discuss the landing situation with Sandora. Where are you going to dock, and how are you going to reach the Temple?

>Next morning, you will check on your team's preparation. Final discussion before leaving. There will be time for prayer.

>First thing in the morning, you want to check on Carnaval's present. Wonder if now that you are in the Thronelands it has changed?

>[Suggestion]

thanks for playing. kitty episode! will there be more? who knows... what's certain is that important announcements will follow, I think next update. For now, get ready to enjoy Halloween.
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>>6132299
Aww. Good cat-integration, the mark of a sterling QM.

>Next day, you will discuss the landing situation with Sandora. Where are you going to dock, and how are you going to reach the Temple?
Carnaval's gift will be as it needs to be, to fulfill hers and Ansarra's will.
>>
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>>6132299
>Next day, you will discuss the landing situation with Sandora. Where are you going to dock, and how are you going to reach the Temple?
>>
>>6132299
>>First thing in the morning, you want to check on Carnaval's present. Wonder if now that you are in the Thronelands it has changed?
>>
>>6132299
>Next morning, you will check on your team's preparation. Final discussion before leaving. There will be time for prayer.
>>
>>6132299
>Next day, you will discuss the landing situation with Sandora. Where are you going to dock, and how are you going to reach the Temple?
>>
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3 vs 1 vs 1 for discussing the landing situation. writing. big news (some of them not good) at the end of the update
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>>6132299
>good cat-integration

thanks. in fact, there ought to be more petting in my stories. I'll keep it in mind

>Carnaval's gift will be as it needs to be

based opinion
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>>6132299

“She likes you,” Sandora muses, coming up right behind you.
“Uh—” you wonder if she’s talking about Willow, but the mage’s jade eyes focus on the cat you hold in your arms. “I just think she likes being petted, that’s all.” The cat purrs, showing how right you are. “You don’t give care enough to your animals,” you point out.

“Perhaps,” she concedes, joining you on the deck and extending her fingers for the cat to lick. The little beast gives them a lick and then accepts Sandora’s touch, purring just as hard as when you were the one doing that.
Willow would probably call her a showoff.

“This is not the first time Ansàrra has taken care of my wounds,” she sighs, and you take a moment to take in her look. Her skin is as unblemished as it used to be two days ago. She moves without pain.

“Soralisa is our resident Sanctioner, but Rubida can be good as well. Looks like their voices did reach the Sun-Birther.”

“Now I feel in debt,” Sandora chuckles. “During these few days I have learned much more about you than you about me.”

“Perhaps you should reconsider your role as a teacher,” you say, mostly joking. But again, mostly.

“I will,” she replies, surprising you. “Truth for truth, there is something I will have to deal with, when all this is over. But it’s a long story, and not one that shall be told today.” She turns to regard the horizon, with the black line of the coast appearing off the sea.

In the light of dawn, the ocean appears as thick and as dark as wine.

“We shall anchor down further to the south, close to Spiana di Castelvetro. That’s the Marque where the Temple of Flame is. Then another barge will carry us there — the seafloor is too shallow for the ship.”

“I see,” and you cover your eyes, trying to peek past the thin clouds and the morning haze, for signs of the Temple.

“You won’t see it from here. It’s past the Glass Heath, anyway.”

“The what?”

[cont.]
>>
>>6132960

“The touch of your goddess is not always as kind as it was with me,” she replies with a huff. “You will see. You all will… and then it will be showtime.” A pause as she gives you a strange look. “You are more interesting than I thought, Argia Candente. Both tougher and more fragile than I believed you to be. I’m sure this mission will give us something else to celebrate soon.”
“You seem quite eager.”
“I have to be. The alternative is quite unpleasant, don’t you think? And I do have some unsolved business after this… business I must tend to.”
“Something a Knight of Ansàrra might help you with?”
“No,” she replies, with a far-off smile, reaching out to pet the purring cat a few more times. “It’s far too personal. But thank you for the offer, Argia Candente. Now, you four ought to get ready, we will depart a few miles offshore. And remember to cover yourselves.”
“It’s not cold.”
“Not from the chill, but from prying eyes. Oh, and another thing. I may need a little favour — our first duel kind of complicated this part, you see.”


# # # # # #


The barge wobbles and creaks against the movement of the waves. It carries the five of you, with the Asterite at the helm, while you sit in the back, next to Willow, and Rubida holds Soralisa, who is having a hard time dealing with motion sickness.

Willow’s hand cover yours, making the plaques of her armour crinkle.

You smile at her, and in her sunken, hollow eyes, you seem to glimpse a renewed light.

When the barge touches the shore, the mariners pull it back to the ship, you watch it leave with a sunken feeling in your stomach. This is it. You are in Thronelands now. There is no going back, and there is no Master you can talk to. You hold onto your cameo — Carnaval’s feather sheathed on your other side — and onto your friends. And over the thin haze of clouds — to the Sun-Birther.

“Are you four ready?”

[cont.]
>>
>>6132964

“If Ansàrra so wills,” you reply, and set the first step on the grass.

Sandora leads you, her cape — well actually it’s your cape now — flowing behind her. You didn’t mind giving it back to her for a while, after all it’s just a token of victory, it holds no meaning beyond that. But just as you four have covered yourself in garbs to hide your identity, she has focused on displaying it — she is once again the proud Asterite you knew her as. You suppose any wandering peasants will be too dazzled to even question where she is going and why.

You look at your surroundings. Sandy dunes, rackety plants sticking out of the dust, and a smell like rotten wood. The Thronelands paint a hardly pleasant picture. Following Sandora in silence, you only meet a flock of seagulls which welcome you with careless laughter. And as you start climbing a short sandy hill and reach the top, you have to cover your eyes again.

Far in the distance, past a few villages and cultivated land where flocks of sheep wander like lost clouds, rests a streak of gleaming terrain. It’s shining so bright you almost have to turn away, which Willow promptly does.

“Ow. What’s that?”
Spiana di Castelvetro,” Soralisa answers, awe making her voice creak.
“The Glass Heath,” you add, to which Soralisa nods.
“When the Throne attempted to take over the Temple of Flame, right after the Sun-Birther had Her struggle with the Stilladìa, She reminded the Emperor of that time that Her domain is not to be encroached upon.”

“She fucking glassed them,” Willow mutters. A hollow chuckle leaves her lips. “Did she use an Eye of the Sun?”
“No,” you reply. You know less history than Soralisa, but the wind does not lie, and the wind that comes from inland carries something else than rotting wood — a faint hint of ripe grapes, and the dry earth of your homeland. “This was done by hand.”

Willow gulps.

[cont.]
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>>6132965

# # # # # #


The hall is so vast the ceiling disappears into the darkness.
To Ibardo Delebasse it might have once seemed ironic that the sun couldn’t reach fully inside Her own palace. But he has long-since learned that irony is the young man’s club, and awareness the old man’s sickle.
The red-robed crowd surrounding him wouldn’t agree.
“Order! We shall have order!” Shouts one of them, a man judging from his voice. Covered from head to toe in crimson fabric, he raises his arms to the ceiling, trying to dull the roaring choirs of discordant voices that awash inside the hall, back and forth, like a storm going off inside a glass bowl.

Ibardo sighs and sets Kishirra’s relic on his lap. Another long afternoon.

The high Amaranthine slowly lulls the rest of the congress to calm, and one by one the men and women sit back down, each of them finding their spot on the circular stone rows. The outside wind carries its howl, but the hall finally goes back to being quiet.

“The disquieting actions of Mastro Delebasse have worried this Assembly time and time again over the years. This High Council’s goal is to make sure none of the highly-ranked figures stain the name of Ansàrra with their behaviour.”

And Ibardo chuckles, feeling like a young man once more.

“And yet! Even if Mastro Ibardo Delebasse has been found lacking in matters of discipline, as well as adherence to the truth of his own Order…” he drones on. He surely refers to how he supported and endorsed the unofficial versions of Saint Kishirra’s life, especially her involvement with a certain Strander he shares the family name with. “We have no bases to consider this behaviour heretical or dangerous to the Faith. Hence…”

“A moment, please,” comes a female voice. From a side door comes in a woman, covered in bandages. Unlike the Amaranthines, she stands out due to the gauzes seeping golden blood. Astoria di Ottava Ora bows to the Assembly and raises her hand. “Apologies for the interruption. I have come from the coast, and I dared to interrupt the Council because something was brought to my attention, something that will cast new light upon Master Ibardo’s conduct. Especially related to the unorthodox details of his latest disciple.”

[cont.]
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>>6132966

Ibardo frowns, for the first time since he was forced to sit here and listen to this drivel. Astoria seems far too self-assured.

“The Matter of Argia Candente has been already examined,” another Amaranthine says, waving his hand in dismissal. “Picking up apprentices from the Mar da Candéa is hardly a violation of importance. His disciple has seemingly carried itself with proper countenance, and shall be allowed to undertake the Trial of Fire.”

“But perhaps this Assembly ignored certain truths,” Astoria counters. “I have been given this by Priests of Flame, which have received it from two mariners who can testimony as well. I hold it now before this Assembly: no wonder the disciple of Mastro Ibardo has never set foot into the Holy Land ere a few cycles ago. No wonder he kept her as a secret. For, you see… this Assembly was deceived.”

Ibardo sighs gravelly as Astoria opens her hand, and one of Argia’s hair swings back and forth. As silver as the planetary ring, as silver as the Stilladìa, and just as cursed.

And what’s worse, he’s not even allowed a drink.


# # # # # #


You reach a dingy village, more like a few houses strung together along the road, just a few miles away from the Glass Heath. The dirty streets give way to wooden buildings, among which the only stone object is a statue at the middle of the crossroad, representing two large tablets sitting at the sides of a throne.

It reminds you of what Sandora said, how these people worship law and customs rather than a life-giving Goddess.

And the results, from the many sunken faces and the gaunt kids that hung by Sandora’s trail, their spirited eyes wide at the sight of an Asterite, clearly speak for themselves… and there's far too many faces for such a small place. Dozens too many.

“I will talk,” Sandora tells you. “You four just pretend you are part of the environment.”


>You will let Sandora speak. She has the authority and experience.

>The villagers might certainly need a kind word. You are not allowed to proselytise, though. Maybe just introduce yourselves as helpers...

>You wonder why there's so many people gathered here. You better ask Sandora - you have a hunch this is important.

>[Suggestion]

# # # # # #

Thanks for playing. Looks like Astoria's machinations are not over. Perhaps at the end of this she will get her promotion... or perhaps not. Also, I have a bit of an announcement: it's almost November, and between the NaNoWriMo and other work projects I have to complete, the quest will take a break for about 45 days, starting from this thread's completion. ETA on next thread is therefore either 7th or 14th of December, depending on how much time this takes. Tomorrow's update is still scheduled as usual, so please vote. See you soon.
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>>6132968
>You will let Sandora speak. She has the authority and experience.
>Examine the tablets

Thanks for the heads up, and see you when you return. Thanks for sticking with it! This is absolutely one of the best quests on the board.
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>>6132968
>>You will let Sandora speak. She has the authority and experience.
>>
>>6132968
>>You will let Sandora speak. She has the authority and experience
>>
>>6132966
>But he has long-since learned that irony is the young man’s club, and awareness the old man’s sickle.
this last part flew over my head, how does awareness contrasts with irony ?
>>6132968
>Ibardo sighs gravelly as Astoria opens her hand, and one of Argia’s hair swings back and forth. As silver as the planetary ring, as silver as the Stilladìa, and just as cursed.
wait, didn't she know our hair ? didn't we do the mission normally with it out and only hid it when outside a mission ?

>You will let Sandora speak. She has the authority and experience.
cute stilly pick. I'll miss you qm, but what's NaNoWriMo
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>>6132972
thanks senpai. that's one of the best compliments I could get.

>>6133009
perhaps I should have put something else other than 'awareness'.

>didn't she know our hair

of course she did; though all your training so far happened outside of Madua proper, you only came there after the Well. And Astoria is making a political move here and also being kind of a dickhead

>what's NaNoWriMo

it's a dumb idea, an exercise to try and write at least 50000 words in November. I take it as a chance to complete at least one extra novel. two years ago I managed 150K, but it's unlikely I'll ever did again.
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>>6132968
>The villagers might certainly need a kind word. You are not allowed to proselytise, though. Maybe just introduce yourselves as helpers...
>>
>>6133009
>NaNoWriMo
Masochism dressed as a contest
>>
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>>6132968

You are happy to go with Sandora’s suggestion. The people around you look at the newcomers with suspicion and — when it comes to the Asterite — a deep-set fear. It reminds you of the way the mariners looked at you when you took off your hood, but this feels much more palpable, in the way they shy away from Sandora’s gaze, from her wavering mantle, from the light in her jade eyes. They know she is an Asterite. And probably the only one they will ever see. Now come to this strange village, to turn its tides.

“People of the Throne,” she starts, opening her arms. “We are passing by. We will bother you not, save for a bit of water and bread, and then we will be on our way. We wish you no harm, as it is customary with the rules of the Throne. Will you allow us passage?”

Rubida rolls her eyes, as if to comment ‘rhetorical question’. While the crowd parts and some even quickly leave for their houses, coming back with jars of water and the like, you and Soralisa join each other to check the stone sculpture.

“What is written over there?” You whisper to her.
“Those are Kiengir characters,” she replies, her hand reaching out to brush against the stone, even as the villagers give her strange looks. “It’s the Twelve Tables, the basis of the Throne’s Codex that’s the foundation for their society. It was supposedly left to them by the Kiengir themselves. The Throne is supposed to work as an extension of the old dominion.”

You glance at the people gathered here. It’s a far cry from the misery and chaos of the Landing Strip, but still… all you can see is gaunt faces, pale hands reaching out for a coin or a slice of bread, chapped lips, and red-eyed children.

“What an endorsement,” you comment.

Sandora and Willow join you as well, carrying the best groceries the villagers were able to give you.

“Why should we take all this,” you ask. “Couldn’t we get what we need from around the Temple?”

“If you can find anything that grows in the middle of the Glass Heath, you will be welcome to try,” Sandora quips. “Besides, these are people the Throne helped relocate from the compromised area. We are just taking back a bit of what we gave; they will be able to go back as soon as things return to normal.”

You two share a heated look. You do not like this — but how much time will you spend arguing? And you do need to be at top form for what is going to happen, for the monster you are going to face.

[cont.]
>>
>>6133376

“Fine,” you sigh, and follow Sandora and the others as you walk out of the village, lingering a few steps behind, your heart troubled by the misery you see. The Thronelands look so… disparaging. Even when you lived in Candéa, you were used to misery and dejection, but not like this. These are refugees, just like your family, just like yourself.

Sure, the best thing you can do is to deal with this mission so that they can go back to their old life, but it’s clear they were forcibly pushed away with little care for anything else. A couple of kids sit by a house, looking at you with both hands held up. They share a single ragged blanket between themselves. It’s just like you and one of your brothers, back in the Landing Strip.

You stop.
Glancing at the group ahead, you judge that you still have time to do this. You reach into your backpack and take out what little provisions you stole from the ship that morning — just what remained from Sandora’s abundant breakfast, really, filling the kids’ arms with bread and pastries. Their small mouths open in wonder, but you put your finger to your lips.

“Don’t even mention it. Share it with others.” Then you also take out Master’s other gift. Besides the cameo, this has been one of the most precious things you ever owned. The cape that has kept you dry during rain, and your silver hair hidden.

But now — after what you did on the barge, baring your secret and your curse for the entire world to see — maybe you don’t need all of it anymore. Holding it against your sword, you cut the cape in two, and drape one of the halves around the two kids.

“Hold onto it,” you whisper. “Hold onto hope. Hold onto the new day.”

The boy’s eyes go wide as he realises what you are saying. With a thin smile, you hold up the three middle fingers of your hand, and he does the same.

“Like grandpa,” he mutters, nodding.
“Yes,” you confirm, folding the rest of your cape and putting it back with the rest. “Grandpa was wise.” You turn away and leave, at a brisker pace.

Your shoulders feel lighter, and your chest definitely feels lighter too.

“Candente,” Rubida says looking back at you. “Did you perhaps entertain any personal diplomatic actions?”

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” you reply, your face the picture of innocence.

Rubida chuckles.

“May the Sun-Birther protect us from the day you learn how to lie convincingly, Candente.”

[cont.]
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>>6133377

# # # # # #


The air grows colder even as the day grows brighter. Willow has to walk with a hand over her eyes at all times, as the dry earth turns ever more yellow and dustier. The wind smells like iron.

And when you finally reach the top of another hill as the road winds and coils around the hunches of the earth, you spot the glare give away to a sheer-black country.
“Ow,” Willow rubs at her sore eyes. “This sucks. I should have carried a pair of sunglasses.”
“I have something,” Sandora reaches for her bag and takes out a bone visor with a thin line carved inside it. “I used this to traverse the Borderlands. It’s similar to how it is there, though this glass is black. But the glare will only get more intense. I got one for all of us.” She gives the others to all of you, and you strap it on your face. Your field of vision reduces to a thin line, but at least you look ahead without continuously squinting.

The land that opens before you look like someone poured molten glass all over the earth, covering it into a thick layer of black sheen.

“It’s like the Kìtum,” Soralisa points out. “Though there are no Kiengir ruins in sight.”

“This is Her hand in action,” Rubida mutters, licking her dry lips. “I have only heard about this.”

And it’s true for you as well. Insofar, you have only felt Ansàrra’s motherly embrace, Her beloved warmth, and only a few times a hint of the righteous fury She is capable of showing to the world.

But what stretches before you is a wasteland of Her own creation.

“In the span of a single night,” Soralisa starts reciting, “the sky parted like a veil, and liquid fire poured off, and the air turned into a furnace, and the very earth into glass, and not a voice remained, nor a tree, nor a bird flew in the sky, nor roots or footprints ever came to trod the marbled sheen. The Throne learned its lesson.”

[cont.]
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>>6133379

Sandora sighs through her nose.

“It’s the first time I see it as well. I visited the Kìtum once, though I stayed well behind the actual border. This definitely feels like that.”

And you can feel it as well. A note stretched through the air, like some sort echo, scattered through every surface, a voice entangled in a spiderweb, ever-repeating, never-heard, always listened.

Do not trod on my Domain, it says.

Maybe not with these words, and maybe the Throne heard different ones in its own harsh dialect. But you are certain they did get the message.

“How much time do we have?” You ask, tilting your heard towards the distance, the endless black country. “Before your Asterite fellow bloats and bursts?”

“Who can say?” Sandora looks up. “Sometimes these things precipitate. We can bet on his desire to stay aware, but the corruption has ways to pull you into its embrace. We better finish this quickly.”

“Does it take long to traverse the wasteland?” Soralisa asks. “I’m already feeling a bit tired. I don’t want to be a bother, but—”

“You won’t be,” Willow says, setting her hand over her shoulder. “Just ask, I’ll carry you.”
“But—”

“There will be no discussions,” you state, sharing a look with Willow. “And there will be no hesitating.”

You share a long look with Willow — and she seems to look for something, for a crease, some sort of hesitation. But in this moment you are far past that. The last few days felt like a Trial of Fire already, as if you were a small statue, passed through the flame to emerge porcelain, hard and shiny and true.

She smiles, and you can see a faint blush over her cheeks even through your glare visor.

“Then, my dear Knights of Ansàrra,” Sandora says, taking the first step downhill into the blasted heath, “it’s time for you to traverse a piece of your history. On a good pace, we would reach the Temple before tomorrow. May the Stars lead our path.”

“May our shadows always lay in our wake,” Soralisa counters, using one of the expressions from the Holy Land. And as you start your descent, the glare that hovers on the Spiana di Castelvetro parts — and past it you see a pyramid.

The Temple is waiting.

And with it, your destiny.
Silver Knight Quest

End of Thread #3

[cont.]
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>>6133380

# # # # # #

Well, it’s time. It keeps being an amazing journey. I especially enjoyed showing Willow’s secret, and thanks to your votes the narrative is taking a very interesting direction. I won’t spoil what I have in mind for the characters, especially given what’s at stake in the Temple (and what the Temple hides), but you may be in for a few surprises next thread.

Speaking of which: as I said last time, the quest will take a short break while I work on some other projects I have to deliver in a short time.

The quest will come back in early-to-mid December, either on the 7th or 14th.

Thanks a lot for playing and for believing in this project. I can’t express how grateful I am.

In the meantime, I also need help with:

>The thread is on page 10 and suptg is DOWN.

If someone knows of any alternatives, I’d love to hear them, fast.

I’ll keep replying for any info request, any question or anything similar you have. As always, thanks for playing once again… and see you in a little while (just in time for Christmas).
>>
>>6133376
>The Twelve Tables
Huh, turns out the Frigeans are NOT the setting's most obvious Jewish analogues.

>>6133382
>If someone knows of any alternatives, I’d love to hear them, fast.
It will probably be about another week until this thread falls off the board, and another week before it can't be archived. If suptg returns by then, it's fine. If not...
https://archived.moe/qst/thread/6098808/
It's still fine. As an added security measure, I recommend https://webtopdf.com/
Thank you for running, and see you in December.

>the spoiler image
Truly, a most delicious brown elf.
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>>6133399
>https://webtopdf.com/

thanks for the suggestion anon.

>brown elf

not all delicious Elves are brown, but all brown Elves are delicious (Kiengiri proverb)
>>
>>6133382
thank you OP and nice brown elf
>>6133399
>Huh, turns out the Frigeans are NOT the setting's most obvious Jewish analogues.
wait, how's frigeia a jewish analogue ?
>>
>>6133551
I was mostly joking. That one anon kept memeing about (((merchants))).
>>
>>6133551
>>6133592

>how's Frigéia a Jewish analogue

I'd say it's rather a Venetian analogue

Suptg is back online, so I'll take this chance to archive the thread.
>>
Thread Successfully Archived!

>https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/2024/6098808

(new tags added, such as 'isekai')

Please vote on the threads! It would only be appropriate to move the threads from Candéan purple to Maduan gold...

>https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=Silver%20Knight%20Quest

and once again - thank you for being here.
>>
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>>6133812

forgot pic dammit
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>>6133805
>Venetian analogue
That seems much more on-point for the Italian-inspired setting anyway, and their whole technological gimmick.
>>
>>6133382
Come back soon Sunseeker
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>>6133883
I will! I just need to take my mind off for a while to focus more on writing about busty erufu babes and dungeon raiding. you know, the important stuff.

>>6133814
a bit, yeah. Frigéia is verging on the 'pike and shot' technology phase, which also makes it different from places like the Throne which are bloated and stuck to the past. The Throne wouldn't have gone far without the Asterites (and the little fuckers know this).

it's a balancing act. by contrast, Argia's homeland is kind of comfy, as long as you are not part of the Great Families struggle for influence.

I'm going to be frank tho: I will miss this place, and the quest, unlike you believe. I hope I can get back as soon as possible
>>
>>6133382
Nice work sun and good luck with your other projects.
>>
Damn, finally decided to catch up and thread is dead. Oh well. Fantastic work boss.! Looking forward to the next one.
>>
>>6135654
it happens. are you in the qtg discord ?
>>
>>6135741
Nah. I don't use discord. Why?
>>
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>>6135654
thanks for checking it out fren! next thread soon, rest assured. our silver-haired doofus is far from done



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