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/tg/ - Traditional Games


File: The Faceless.jpg (116 KB, 644x482)
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Welcome one, and I welcome you all to the tale of a world called Thespia.

Here is the odyssey of one that clings to this world with no face of their own! In a place where magic is fundamental to all of creation, all who live wear their lives upon their face, where a fire might wish to be the cooking fire of an inn!

Previously the Faceless set boundaries with a clingy Protean foxwoman, letting her know of his role's status as a widowed man. Bereft with guilt, she had begun to flee yet the faceless urged her to stay.

Feeling that the rebels could potentially become a greater fighting force with the right "Allies," The Faceless incites them to seek out pacts, finding the old innkeep, Valce a friend in a simple campfire while the Huntress, Oddette, made do with a far more vicious partner.

As she performed her trial, The faceless assisted Mira in getting her two pacts to work together and let the girl train on her own as he fell into slumber and saw visions of his Face's past.

His old allies and friends under the cloak of night and a young Hylon King by the name of Acer...

What trials shall we overcome? We shall see.

The Twitter!
> https://twitter.com/Faceless_Quest
If you have questions...
>http://ask.fm/Dranzy

And a log of the quest!
>http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive.html?tags=Quest%20Of%20The%20Faceless

And The Faceless!
http://pastebin.com/dDstf0SN
>>
Sol's light fades upon the labor camp as your people prepare for the attack. There are many that want to be part of the forward group, yet you hand select only a few. The ones advancing are: Yourself, Mira for her capability as a contractor, Cornel for his contract being your way in, and Odette for her fury and weapon pact.

Before leaving, you all stand together, forms darkening as horns are collectively let loose. You stand before them and look upon each of their faces. You've alredy given them the rousing speech tht made them trudge all the way back to this hellhole, and now you've barely anything to say but, “Tonight, we take back what we've lost.”

A murderous atmosphere arises from the solemn words and the Guisi that hd once been slaved noe appear as a collection of devils. Gone are their gentle disposition. Gone are the thoughts of pain and remore.

Now there is only revenge.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v2XR6zmZ4Ps

Your group goes forward, already drawing pacted weapons. You all wear your cloks despite the offensive stench they carry. Once the massacre begins, it won't matter if they've caught your scent.

Lunlight flows down from above, idle and as serene as a calm before the storm. Mira follows at your side, Cornel at the back, Odette to the left, and Gaffer ahead of you bearing one of the salvaged swords.
You keep your eyes on the sentries, keeping to the darker paths of the land, once close enough, you perform a simple gesture to ask Odette if the tower is within range, she confirms with a nod.

>[Have Odette kill the sentry.]
>[Fly up yourself to kill the sentry quietly.]
>[Command Odette to shoot the tower down.]
>[Slip by the sentry quietly.]
>>
>>43763159
How noisy is Odette's shooting again?
Also an hour delay, I almost wondered who replaced you
>>
>>43763159
>[Have Odette kill the sentry.]
1 hour too late.
Nice to see everything as usual
>>
>>43763159
>[Have Odette kill the sentry.]
Hoping it just kills the guard and not destroys the tower
>>
>>43763208
It's not terribly noisy unless it's felling trees.

If you're wondering why it's so powerful, remember how the Ursarinn was basically a wreaking ball with claws.
>>
>>43763159
>[Fly up yourself to kill the sentry quietly.]
>>
>>43763276
In that case
>[Have Odette kill the sentry.]
>>
>>43763159
>[Slip by the sentry quietly.]
>>
>>43763159
>[Have Odette kill the sentry.]
Eh, I guess giving her first blood should keep her quiet later on.
>>
>>43763321
Or it makes her go berserk.
But I guess that's a rather small chance
>>
>>43763159
>[Slip by the sentry quietly.]
>>
>>43763159

You give Odette the signal for a kill and she stands up carefully knocking an arrow and taking aim. As she breathes, you hear the deep growl of a monster rumbling from her bow. Pulling back, the wood bends back with a distinctive creak like popping bones.

In the next moment a dark arrow flies to the sentry, catching them in the helm unaware. You see blood and threads erupt from the attack as the guard's head is cut in twain.

With a deep, shuddering breath, Odette kneels back down as the body falls against the railing of the tower, limp.

It won't be long until someone sees the body with the flame there, and your group moves onto the palisade quickly. The wooden barrier is shoddily erected, meant not to keep invaders out but the laborers within. Cornel hoists up his pickaxe as the rest of you stand back and he gets to work on moving enough earth to move one out of the way.

Odette comes near you for a whisper, “This would be quicker if I used me pact, I can cut the log down.”

Your eyes shift to the body hanging up there, and you can feel the pace of your heart quicken as you realize that this may be just a touch too slow.

>[Let Odette take down the Palisade.]
>[Fly up to the tower and move the corpse.]
>[Wait patiently for Cornel to finish.]
>[Have Mira climb the wall to the tower and suspend the body. A puppet show may abate suspicion.]
>[Write in.]
>>
>>43763643
>[Have Mira climb the wall to the tower and suspend the body. A puppet show may abate suspicion.]
The world's a stage and we're the actors
>>
>>43763643
>[Fly up to the tower and move the corpse.]
>>
>>43763643
>[Have Mira climb the wall to the tower and suspend the body. A puppet show may abate suspicion.]
>>
>>43763643
>[Have Mira climb the wall to the tower and suspend the body. A puppet show may abate suspicion.]
Seems to make the best story which I feel is important in this setting
>>
>>43763643
>[Have Mira climb the wall to the tower and suspend the body. A puppet show may abate suspicion.]
>>
>>43763643
>[Wait patiently for Cornel to finish.]
>>
>>43763643
>[Have Mira climb the wall to the tower and suspend the body. A puppet show may abate suspicion.]
Could it be that being a hero depends on acting like a hero of your arche?
>>
>>43763643
>[Have Mira climb the wall to the tower and suspend the body. A puppet show may abate suspicion.]
We're natural liars so what's better than this?
>>
>>43763643

You shake your head, denying Odette's offer. Yet your eyes linger on the mounting problem that his that corpse. You gesture Mira closer, and with a whisper you tell her, “Use your powers as a snake to climb the palisade, get to that tower and string up that body so that onlookers from the camp see it silhouetted against the torches.”

Mira's eyes go wide at that plan However with her horns drawn, her meekness is abated by a devilish glimmer. “I'll see it done.” She whispers as she darts away like an arrow.

Upon hitting the wall, she clings tightly to the surface and shimmers up the palisade with inhuman, snake-like movements. Leaping from the wall, she catches a pole of the tower and tightly weaves herself up to the watch platform, vaulting over the railing and sticking low.

You see small flashes from the movements of her needle, and in short work the body is string up like a puppet to stand. With a smile, you bring your eyes back down and look yo Odette over your shoulder, “She's taught herself well.”

Odette bears her own smile with Makoh-like teeth, “Indeed, she's a brilliant one.

In the distance, you see fires being lighted at the forest's edge, the other part of your plan having begun.
Mira drops down, rolling through the ash and popping up to shake it off, “I hate this place.” She whispers as she pats off her rags.”

It's not long until Cornel displaces enough earth for the Palisade to begin teetering down. With joint hands, you all support the beam and bring it down to the side. Gaffer gives the whily old goat a pat on the shoulder as he squeezes through the gap first.
You do the same, and it occurs to you that Cornell's part in this may well be done unless he intends to fight with a sword or his pickaxe.
At the very least it could be useful for breaking something...

>[Tell Cornell to return to the others.]
>[Keep Cornell along for the mission.]
>>
>>43763930
>[Keep Cornell along for the mission.]
He may be needed to whip up some shelter for the recuees
>>
>>43763930
>Leave it to Cornell
>>
>>43763930
>[Keep Cornell along for the mission.]
His contract could always be useful
>>
>>43763930
>[Keep Cornell along for the mission.]
>>
>>43763930
>[Keep Cornell along for the mission.]
Set my alarm wrong.
Thanks for the delay
>>
>>43763930
>[Keep Cornell along for the mission.]
>>
>>43763930
>[Keep Cornell along for the mission.]
>>
>>43763930
>[Keep Cornell along for the mission.]
>>
>>43763930

You give Cornell a nod and slip through the hole in the palisade, and immediately heading for behind the nearest tent. With everyone hiding beside you, you peer out and exmine the camp now that you've gotten a good internal view. As it is now, the number of lanterns here and there allow for a fair amount of light, yet many, many shadows to hide in. Likely why they have so many guards on watch, patrolling into the small hours of the night.

The blade of your scythe grins from your gauntlet, “I can't wait to reap those insufferable curs.”

With the coast clear, you begin to gesture for one of the others to move, when you feel a small splatter of wetness on your hand. Looking up, you see that the cloud cover has steadily increased, darkening the night further.

Soon, it won't even matter how badly your cloaks might smell, the rain will obscure the scent and douse anything that isn't in a lantern. How... Timely.

Your team darts forward from shadow to shadow in the camp as the alarm is sounded, guards rushing to a different part of the wall that you'd originally came from. Certainly the commander won't deal with such a task by himself... Instead the ones sleeping will come from the barracks and... You locate the building you're looking for. An especially well-built structure amid the shamble of everything else, the barracks and guardhouse composed of mortar and stone to watch over the rest of the camp, the only building that won't burn if a fire breaks out.
>>
>>43764413

A pair of guards remain before the entrance, refusing to abandon their posts even as others come out and through to respond to the alert. Each bears a lantern in hand as well as a pike in hand and a sword upon their waists. Their faces are obscured by their helm and visors, they're armored and ready to deny entry to anyone that may try. The shadows draw long on their figures by the light of the flickering lantern flames.

“I hate the rain, one says as the storm begins to come down harder, droplets of water trickling down their armor. Makes this camp look all the more foul by comparison.” One says, completely oblivious to the call to arms.

“Be silent, Gregory. You're sounding like a Namour. There's no romance or adventure in this place, only our duty.” The other snaps back, staring on ahead. His voice rings low.

“Perhaps if this place were to ever fall, I might visit Twi L'Cie.”

“Cease, you speak of treason you fool. You're under oath to the lord of the manor, come back down to the drab earth which we all walk and stand watch. There's an alert, there could very well be intruders.”

Gregory shrugs in his armor, staring on ahead for a moment, then shifting his head to the side.

Odette makes eye contact with you and knocks an arrow, aiming her bow, “At your command, reaper, they die.”

>[“Shoot them both.”]
>[“Leave Gregory.”]
>[Try to find a way to distract both of them.]
>[Write in.]
>>
>>43764424
>[“Shoot them both.”]
>>
>>43764424
We take one, Mira takes the other, and Gregory watches for which one is going to scream and stabs them in the lung/diagphagm
>>
>>43764424
>[“Shoot them both.”]
>>
>>43764424
>[“Shoot them both.”]
Be ready for suprises
>>43764471
Gregory is one of the 2 guards
>>
>>43764424
>[“Shoot them both.”]
Oath is likely magical so we can't do anything about it
>>
>>43764424
>[“Shoot them both.”]
>>
>>43764424
>[“Shoot them both.”]
From what we know there's no choice here
>>
>>43764492
oh. whoops.
>>
>>43764471
Gregory is one of the guards.

You mean Gaffer?

>Party consists of...

>The Faceless, The Reaper mask
Wind Scythe and Owl shadow
>Mira
Sewing Needle and Greater Blood Viper.
>Odette
Black Bow of Unyielding Woe
>Cornel
Slave's pickaxe
>Gaffer
Manhunter's sword(pactless)
>>
>>43764424
>[“Shoot them both.”]
>>
>>43764559
yeah, Gaffer and Cornel on doubletap duty
>>
On the aside, I would like to say that if any of your party "Hides their horns" they'd look like any other slave to these men.

They don't know who's attacking yet.
>>
>>43764589
Yeah but why would any slave come to the baracks?
>>
>>43764607

That's what they'd be asking. And it'd make for a great distraction if you needed one on this mission.
>>
>>43764623
Yeah it'd be a good distraction from the growling sound of Odette's bow.
I support us/the reaper doing it.
>>
>>43764623
ehhh. Best I can think of is Gaffer holding a venom tipped needle from Mira and poking the one who apprehends him.

The rest ambush the second guy. Not terribly optimal.
>>
>>43764654
Seconding this
>>
>>43764654
The growling sound can only be heard by ones who can hear its "voice."
>>
>>43764677
Oh well it still puts up in melee range should the second one not die fast enough
>>
>>43764693
We should transform the scythe into that gauntlet thing for this
>>
>>43764424

You touch Mira's arm and guide her aim down, “No, I've got a better way about this. I'll meet them. Aim for the one furthest from me, I'll take care of the other.” With a shrug, you throw off your cloak and hand it to gaffer as you hide your horns and turn your scythe into a gauntlet, further forming it to look like something of a cast for effect.

“I'll do what we do best.” You say with your kindly tone, the others return almost sinister grins.

Stepping out into the blackened path after the next guard runs out, and hobble yourself before the pair in front of the barracks. You keep your head down for the most part to appear submissive and scared.

“You there, Guisi! What are you doing away from your camp?” The older guard bellows.

You wince and nearly drop to your knees, “O-o-oh Masters. Please forgive me. I-i-i was looking for the outhouse and I h-heard the commotion and got all turnt around. P-p-please.”

“See here, Sir Jeremiah? Does this sort of Whore's shit not leave a foul taste? “

“Silence Gregory, apprehend this old fool and take him to the others. Don't forget to give him three fresh lashes as per the lord of the manor's punishment for “Getting lost on way to toilet.” The other barks, and Gregory steps forward, kneeling beside you.

Something in your heart twists like a venomous snake, how you want to sink your scythe between the joints of this foolish boy's armor.

“Aye, Sir Jeremiah. Yes Sirrah. I obey.” Gregory says with a mocking tone from within his helm. He puts a hand under your shoulder, “Here old one,” He whispers, “Pardon my superior's wickedness, I'll see you to your chambers, sans the lashings. I get lost on my way to the outhouse, times as well.”

You hear the growling of Odette's bow as she pulls it back...

>[Carry through with the double kill.]
>[Signal for her to cease... This could be an opportunity to find where the others are.]
>[Put your arm up to Gregory's ear, muffle the sound of Jeremiah's death.]
>[Write in.]
>>
>>43764941
>[Carry through with the double kill.]
We have to behead the snake while we're unnoticed
>>
>>43764941
>[Carry through with the double kill.]
we don't have time to waste being wishy washy
>>
>>43764941
>[Carry through with the double kill.]
Changing the plan now can only backfire
>>
>>43764941
I'd love to try to keep Gregory alive but having no info on their contract-oaths that's just asking for trouble
>[Carry through with the double kill.]
>>
>>43764941
>[Carry through with the double kill.]
>>
>>43764941
>[Put your arm up to Gregory's ear, muffle the sound of Jeremiah's death.]
But keep a blade to his throat and watch his reaction
>>
>>43764941
>[Put your arm up to Gregory's ear, muffle the sound of Jeremiah's death.]
>>
>>43764941
>[Put your arm up to Gregory's ear, muffle the sound of Jeremiah's death.]
>>
>>43764941
>[Carry through with the double kill.]
>>
>>43764941

You let your arm fall over Gregory's shoulder as he helps you up, leaning against him for support. Despite the inner conflict, the fury of Dramir against the lingering of your own heart, you relent. Your scythe snakes up your arm, and to the other, slipping the blade under the young man's throat and... you can feel it growing sharper in preparation for the cut.

You hear Odette's bow roar as it releases its silent arrow, and you slash Gregory's throat. Jeremiah's body is forced back as the arrow cleaves his armor and nearly tears him in half. Your blade, slides through like a knife through butter, leaving the man fallen to his knees and lurching, trying to stop the blood even as he gasps for air. Loos threads waft from the wound, fading out into the world as he quickly dies. With quick thinking, you drag the body into the darkness and slash up the spots of blood with quick blades of air to reduce the traces. The rain washes the rest away.

Kneeling down, you take his sword, cutting through the belt, and tossing the sheathed weapon over to Cornel as he approaches, “You learned these too.” You say as you bend back down, and grab his ring of keys.

Mira's gaze lingers on the body of the one you slew.

“What's the matter Mira? We need to keep moving.”

“That one gave me cookies from the pantry. They were a little burnt, but he said it was better than throwing them out.” She whispers slowly, then looks away.

“Don't dwell on it Mira, he should've picked a different path in life.” You say with jaded aggression as you let your horns back out. “We move.”
>>
>>43765482

Entering the barracks, you let Odette stand near the end of the hall, and feather the first one that comes down, another cleaving arrow tearing a body apart. You check around the place, finding a fully stocked armory on the ground floor, now empty bunks upon the second, and finally a locked door at the top.

Beneath the wooden door, you can see the flickering of candlelight. Beyond, you can hear the voice of a man talking aloud to himself, “Blasted time for alarm when I must have this letter flown out by tomorrow. Why do things never go my way? Stuck in this shit hole with these sheepmen... Blast, I've spilt the ink. So I start this whole thing over again.”

Obviously the one beyond this door cares not for the alarm.

>[Fiddle with the keys to unlock the door and kill him quietly.]
>[Have Mira pick the lock in silence, bind him for interrogation.]
>[Have Cornel break down the door, attack him in frenzy.]
>[Write in.]
>>
>>43765501
>[Have Mira pick the lock in silence, bind him for interrogation.]
We need information on where what is
>>
>>43765501
>[Have Mira pick the lock in silence, bind him for interrogation.]
>>
>>43765501
>[Have Mira pick the lock in silence, bind him for interrogation.]
>>
>>43765501
>[Fiddle with the keys to unlock the door and kill him quietly.]
>>
>>43765501
>[Have Mira pick the lock in silence, bind him for interrogation.]
after we're done with him, set the whole barracks on fire to destroy the hiearchy of command
>>
>>43765501
>[Have Mira pick the lock in silence, bind him for interrogation.]
We need to know where to find the Hylon.
>>
>>43765501
>[Have Mira pick the lock in silence, bind him for interrogation.]
>>
>>43765501
>[Have Mira pick the lock in silence, bind him for interrogation.]
>>
I think Odette should position herself to shoot the guy through a wall. Not through the door, incase he uses Mira as a shield in that direction.
>>
>>43765689
Good point
>>
Still awake Dran?
>>
>>43765501

You usher Mira forward to pick the lock with her needle instead of fiddling with the ring of keys. Within the minute, Mira has the luck undone and you slowly pull back on the door.

“Allow me to sing you the song of our people.” you hear as the hinges of the door creak like a murdered dog. By the time you crack it open, the man within's turned around. You look each other in the eyes for one moment that mutually chills your blood.

“Go!” You say with an urgent whisper as you all rush through the door. The Danhor reaches for the air, a sword materializing from thin air as per a pact user.

Your blade clashes with his and your scythe holds the sword steady.

“My master, they-” The sword begins to speak as Mira comes around, her brutal needle punctures his unarmored flesh and restricts him with a thread through his joints. Pulling back, he's bound and the sword fall to the floor, sinking into the stone ground.

You feel a cut upon your cheek as small notch is taken from wood of your scythe. You hold your face, grimacing as you kick the man back into his chair, Mira severing her thread and quickly loading more into her needle.

The man opens his mouth to shout, yet you press the blade of your scythe upon his tounge with its form as a gauntlet. “You will kindly shut the hell up, lest you lose that flapping tongue of yours. If you so much as try to scream, my archer will feather that thick head of yours.”

The man looks back with defiance interfering with what should be a mortal fear. Your eyes glance to Mira. “Liar's venom. Use it.”

Mira smiles, uncharacteristically sadistic, “Already administered.”
>>
>>43766223

“Good girl.” You say, looking back to the man and slowly removing the blade from his jaw. “Now, we're going to ask you some questions, the venom will burn and come closer to killing you for every lie that you tell.” You say with a harsh whisper.

The man looks away from you and that brings out your anger as you lash out with a hard backhand before you realize it, “Where are the prisoners of your camp located?”

“I don-” The man grimaces, biting his teeth as the venom takes effect.

“What Is your name?” You say with a sharp kick to his gut.

“Sir Kallas... Sir Kallas of House Prosterra. Loyal servant of the Manor watching over Bikal...”

“Sir Kallas, you and your people are whore's shit. Is that wrong?” You say with a venom in your voice not unlike the one in this man's veins.

“Go fuck yours-” You bring a kick across his face, little white bones spilling onto the floor.

“We told you it'd hurt if you lie.” You say with a malevolent snicker. Gaffer grabs the man from the back and hoists him up, while Cornel holds him at bay with the sword you pilfered.

“Where is Bikal Manor?”

“North-Northwest from here.”

“How many men?”

“Fuck y- Ahhh!”

“I'll ask again, how many men?” You begin pacing, keeping your eyes on Kallas, your scythe freely moving its forms upon your right hand, ready to strike at any moment.

“Hundred or so.. Mayhaps more...” Kallas relents.


“Where are your prisoners?”

“You are.. here for them? Who are they to you?”

“Shut up and answer the question.” Odette interjects, pulling her merciless bow back.

“Shut the hell up bitch, I'm talking to the ma-” He starts, but doesn't get to finish before Odette releases a cleaving arrow into his foot. He starts to scream, but Gaffer sticks a dirty rag into his mouth. Tears stream from his face, and his foot is cut in half, leaving him a hobbled man.

“You'd best not speak to her like that, or at worst we'll let you leave here alive.”
>>
>>43766236

Gaffer waits, and then takes out the rag. Kallas spits out onto the floor in disgust. “Alive at worst?”

“Aye, at worst,” You say, coming close to the man for a whisper in his ear, “At worst, we take half of your feet, then your arms and eyes. You'll not be able to do a thing but crawl and beg for scraps from your master's hands like an old dog. They'll be the ones to put your useless, sorry sack of flesh down.”

The man whimpers as you pull back, and you can see the mortal terror in his eyes.

The breaking man relents, and you can see the iron will crumbling from his face into soft pitiful features.

He's ready to talk about anything now.

>You are going to ask about the location of the Guisi. But what else will you ask?
>[“What pacts do trash like you make?”]
>[“What good is an oath to your kind?”]
>[Who is your master?”
>[Write in.]
>>
>>43766286
>[“What pacts do trash like you make?”]
>[Who is your master?”]
>>
>>43766286
>>[“What good is an oath to your kind?”]
>>[Who is your master?”
I'm wondering if we should throw him a bone. Make him take an oath that promises him some measure of honor in exchange for something.
>>
>>43766286
>[“What pacts do trash like you make?”]
>[Who is your master?”
>>
>>43766286
>[“What pacts do trash like you make?”]
>[Who is your master?”
>>
>>43766286
>[“What pacts do trash like you make?”]
>[“What good is an oath to your kind?”]
>[Who is your master?”
>>43766328
>I'm wondering if we should throw him a bone. Make him take an oath that promises him some measure of honor in exchange for something.
Why should we?
>>
>>43766353
>Why should we?
well he'd actually comply, for one. Carrot is much more useful than stick.

people don't actually bend very easily to pure physical torture, you have to mix in psychological damage and attack their trust in their comrades. Or just bargain.
>>
>>43766286
>[“What pacts do trash like you make?”]
>[“What good is an oath to your kind?”]
>[Who is your master?”
>Write In
How far away is the manor?
>>
>>43766383
On the other hand who would believe an oath sworn by a Guisi?
>>
>>43766286
>[Who is your master?”
>>
>>43766286
>[“What good is an oath to your kind?”]
>>
>>43766518
Wouldn't oaths to them mean far more than oaths for us? Lol. They are the honor side, we're the deception.
>>
>>43766567
I'm pretty sure that Thespians in general are aware that Guisi are liars
>>
>>43766410
point. We could do some verbal gymnastics to get him to swear an oath to Thespia or something, but that might take too much work.
>>
>>43766581
They are more aware of them as pacifists. It's one of the greatest Guisi lies.
>>
>>43766687
Incidentally, Sir Kallas doesn't know that you're Guisi since the whole party has their horns out.
>>
>>43766700
>>43766687
It's kinda hard to distinguish where the lies begin with Guisi.
>>
>>43766700
Which arche does he think we are?
>>
>>43766809
Surely you look more like a protean to him, or a faeni as they're commonly called.

"Horned Guisi don't look like any known arche, and few have lived to tell more than tales of their shadows.
>>
>>43766286
>>[“What good is an oath to your kind?”]
>>[Who is your master?”
>>
>>43766286

“I'm curious, what good are oaths to your kind? You do seem like the honorable sort,”You say with a sidelong glare.

Kallas sweats, “Oaths are honor, and our word is honor. I am sworn to serve the lord of Bikal Manor, as are the others.”

“An interesting turn of phrase, if I were the lord, would you then serve me?”

“As... As we are sworn.” Kallas inclines his head. “It is the honor of the Danhor.”

“And you'd not fight for your old master?”

“Were he cruel as you are? Never.” Kallas says indignantly.

You glare at him, stopping your pacing and glaring at him in the eyes, “You have no right to speak of who is cruel and who is not. You live right now at my whim.” You lean back. “I'm sick of talking. Where are your slaves?”

“You're going to kill me, aren't you?”

You turn to the man, suddenly grinning with a gentleness that you'd usually only show to a child, “Oh by Sol, no. That would break my heart into pieces. I fully intend to let you live.”

The man looks down, visibly sweating. “The eastern portcullis, closest to the working grounds.”

You turn away and give a swift gesture while he's not looking. Odette unleashes her arrow, and turns his face into a thousand bits as his threads unwind back into the world.

“Well, I can at least say that I didn't lie. Odette, your hand must've slipped, yes?”

“Quite so.” The woman retorts with a wicked chuckle, “The tension was making me sweat.”

Gaffer takes the keys from Sir Kallas's fresh corpse, his once pacted sword remains by his side, weeping for its master and cursing at you between sobs.

You feel your cheek, and frown at the sting from the cut it had given you...

>[Destroy the sword.]
>[Stab it into the body of its master out of spite.]
>[Leave the blade to its grief.]
>[Take it with you.]
>>
>>43766930
>[Stab it into the body of its master out of spite.]
>>
>>43766930
>[Leave the blade to its grief.]
>>
>>43766930
>[Leave the blade to its grief.]
>>
>>43766930
>[Destroy the sword.]
>>
>>43766930
>Stab it into the ground, as if a gravemarker
we'll be back for him incase we somehow come upon the title of Lord of Bikal Manor
>>
>>43766930
>[Leave the blade to its grief.]
>>43766991
That you could be difficult
>Odette unleashes her arrow, and turns his face into a thousand bits as his threads unwind back into the world.
>>
>>43766930
>[Leave the blade to its grief.]
I start to feel that we're losing ourself in the face by acting too much in the Reaper's persona
>>
>>43767018
I dunno, I just assumed the sword would hold itself to the same standard of honor.
>>
>>43767044
I mean the sword wasn't contracted/oathbound to the Lord.
>>
>>43767054
they were contract bound, right? Doesn't that make them "one"?
>>
>>43767054
>>43767082
blech, the sword was contracted to Kallas, who made an oath. So do oaths pass down to weapons?
>>
>>43767082
I thought that was just the case for Guisi.
>>
You need to update the pastebin.
The name of the Reaper isn't in it yet
>>
>>43767098
At this point, I'm so tired I don't know. Gonna have to sign out for now.
>>
>>43766930

Looking down upon the blade, you feel a tinge of despair as it says goodbye to its master in its own way. You reach out for it, taking it by the hilt and its tears become nothing but a string of murderous curses.

Bearing tinges of guilt in your own heart, pitying the blade, you stab it before the corpse of its master. “Mark his grave.”

“You bastard, letting him die with an empty hand.”

“He should've held you more tightly.” You turn to your comrades as they watch you in awe. “What? We're going.”

They exchange glances among each other, and silently nod, heading out before you. Looking back, you almost wish you had time to bury the body.


Your party quickly makes their way through the encampment, with Odette taking discreet shots here and there when possible. At this point, all the sentries of the towers are dead, and the Danhor are in disarray as they attempt to respond to the attackers harrowing them with arrows in the deluge of the night.

Thunder and lightning fall closeby as you all run to the slave quarters, shoddy tents and lumber houses of ill make. After an especially close flash of lightning, there's a guard that looks directly at your party ahead and immediately turns to run for the camps at full sprint. Odette fires an arrow, yet the guard anticipates and skillfully twirls around with sword in hand to parry the arrow, sparks flying from their blade as the arrow is deflected and driven into the lumber of a log house, cleaving the wood with its trademark property. The masterful spin brings them back around to keep running without delay as they push on through the increasing mud and take cover behind other structures.

There's something... odd about that one.

>[Give chase after this guard before he warns the others!]
>[Order Odette to unleash more arrows.]
>[Fly ahead to take down the guard!]
>[Write in.]
>>
>>43767157
>[Order Odette to unleash more arrows.]
>[Fly ahead to take down the guard!]
We can do both
>>
>>43767157
>[Order Odette to unleash more arrows.]
>[Fly ahead to take down the guard!]
>>
>>43767157
>[Order Odette to unleash more arrows.]
>[Fly ahead to take down the guard!]
>>
>>43767157
>[Order Odette to unleash more arrows.]
>[Fly ahead to take down the guard!]
>>
>>43767157
>[Fly ahead to take down the guard!]
Send the others straight for the slaves, we need to get that pickaxe to work as soon as possible.

time to grind some scythe xp.
>>
>>43767157
>[Fly ahead to take down the guard!]
>>
>>43767157

>https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5fNLEPrNi2A

“Odette, shoot that one while I fly ahead. Cornel, Gaffer, Mira, you head towards the bunkhouses to free the Guisi. See them free and get them out of here, I'll catch up after this.” You say quickly midstride as you let your scythe return to its full form with its blade aligned for battle. Hanging onto the handles of the shaft, you spin it around with a a great flourish and take off with the seized wind.

Odette's arrows fly for the runner as you go higher, navigating the shadows of the night with your eyes piercing the darkness. Each arrow that Odette releases is either parried by blade or skillfull dodged as Odette pursues on foot.

You're hindered by the deluge as it pours down upon you, pulling you down by your cloak as you and your scythe try to maintain control. Surging ahead, you cut off the path of the runaway by landing in front of them. The guard flourishes their blade, spinning to deflect another arrow with another sparking clash of metal on flint. The arrow deviates and you bring your scythe out into the form of a sword to strike for this flighty foe. You prepare to clash blades as they advance, yet lightning falls with a great flash and you blink away a sudden blindness to find that you've lost track of the foe.

Odette catches up to you, squinting around in the darkness as torches are put out by the rain. “Where did they go?” She shouts, the heavy rain making it hard to hear.”

“I don't know!” You shout back when you hear a sudden shriek of a child from a nearby cabin.

>[Investigate it with Odette.]
>[Have Odette keep watch while you enter.]
>[Write in.]
>>
>>43767371
>[Have Odette keep watch while you enter.]
Be ready to run
>>
>>43767371
>[Have Odette keep watch while you enter.]
Can't let our guard down
>>
>>43767371
>[Investigate it with Odette.]
>>
>>43767371
>[Have Odette keep watch while you enter.]
It's a trap
>>
>>43767371

You near the Cabin and lean into the wall to cover your back as you near the open door. Holding a hand out to Odette, “Stay out here and keep watch, I'm going to check inside.”

“Be careful, Reaper” She says grimly as she keeps an arrow knocked and ready to fire.

Peering in around the door, you see a dark figure stabbing a blade through a bed again and again, with a child shrieking and crying. Yet its not the child that's being stabbed, it's someone else that's being mutilated by that blade.

With a flash of lightning you see the figure turn to you wordlessly, bearing the same armor and coat of arms as all the Danhor guards you've seen yet... Only this one? This one seems mad.

You start forward, and the figure reaches out to another bed, violently grabbing a child by the hand and
forcing them to the ground underfoot and blade poised.

“Leave,” a voice echoes out from beneath the helm, one that sounds distantly familiar, yet missing something.

The thunder and lightning rumbles again, making your heart jump with the horrible tension with that child's life on the line.

>[Write in.]
>>
>>43767551
>Attack him with the Windscythe
What the fuck's going on.
>>
>>43767551
>Rush him
>>
>>43767551
This >>43767562
Rushing gives him time to react
>>
>>43767551
Going with >>43767562
>>
>>43767551
Windblade his ass
>>
>>43767551
This >>43767562
>>
>>43767551

The tension between the two of you is percussed by the heavy rainfall and occasional rumbles of thunder rolling upon the landscape. The child underneath the guard's foot squirms in place, only to have their hand further crushed with a metal boot.

With your scythe in shortsword form, you reel it back as it catches the threads of the stagnant air. Between breaths you gather up power to ensure a decisive strike. With a sudden lash, you feel your heart utter, “Vente Falcem!” as it unleashes a slicing blade of wind.

“Vitus Fulgore” you hear in a drab return from a woman's voice. The guard drops low with the blistering speed, letting your blade of wind pass overhead as though they, she was ready for it. The blade slides into the child's neck and you roar out in grief as you unleash a flurry of windborne blades, the guardswoman dancing about them to and fro, slicing another child that'd been crying in their bed.

She closes the distance between the two of you in the next moment and stops your hand from swinging. The insane guard leans in, close enough for you to hear her breath, “She'll be held back by nothing now, reaper.”

The voice sends shivers down your spine before you feel the sudden pound of a fist into your sol plexus, causing you to recoil to the ground, holding your stomach in pain.

“Reaper!” You hear Odette shout out as she pulls back her bow. The insane guard stares at her, suddenly far more still than she'd been at all for you.
>>
>>43767688

Odette releases her arrow and the guard's blasted back, through the open window of the cold and bloodied cabin. Odette rushes to your side, helping you up, “Reaper, are you alright? That guard, I think I finally got them.”

You cough painfully, trying to fill your lungs back up with air, taking long gasping breaths before you regain your composure. That woman... she came here just to kill them. You clench your fists, taking up the ashen dirt into your hands even as water leaks in, spoiling it into mud.

>[Tell Odette to go back outside. You'll take care of this.]
>[Have Odette help you up... Check the dead.]
>[Write in.]
>>
>>43767695
>[Tell Odette to go back outside. You'll take care of this.]
I have a bad feeling about this
>>
>>43767695
>>[Have Odette help you up... Check the dead.]
>>
>>43767695
>[Tell Odette to go back outside. You'll take care of this.]
There is something wrong and I don't want to risk her going berserk
>>
>>43767695
>[Tell Odette to go back outside. You'll take care of this.]
>>
>>43767695
>[Tell Odette to go back outside. You'll take care of this.]
>>
>>43767695

“Odette” You say, rising up with her help,” Go back outside.”

“Why Reaper?” She looks to you, her eyes still ill adjusted to details within the darkness of the cloudy night. “The guard is gone. Now where was that screaming coming from?”

She starts to look around, and you place a hand upon her shoulder, turning her around as you look her deep in the eye, “Odette. Go. Outside.” You say with stringent command.
She stares back at you with a sudden steely expression before doing as she's told. She stands at the door, looking back at you for a moment before calling her bow back and stepping out.

You walk over to the bloodstains in the sheets, the last child that had been cut was trying to hide under their blanket. Unfortunately, that only keeps out the monsters that you can't see. Pulling back the covers, you see the slash went parallel to the ribs, going between them rather than through.
Looking at the child, you notice that the boy has white hair.

No. It can't be, could it?

You approach the child that had been stabbed through on the floor. This boy too, white hair. Both like the snow of winter.

If Odette's eyes were more accustomed to the dark, she'd have seen...

The last body. You approach the flayed sheets. Pulling them back in tatters, you see a man with his eues rolled back and his torso sliced to bits. His fresh blood sticks to the sheets, and you fall back with eyes gone wide. “Oh now... No.... If she sees this. I can't let her see this.” You whisper to yourself.

>[Cut off the heads and throw them through the back window.]
>[Check the window that the “guard” fell through.”]
>[Leave without another thought, take her away from the cabin.]
>[Write in.]
>>
>>43767832
>[Check the window that the “guard” fell through.”]
>>
>>43767832
>[Check the window that the “guard” fell through.”]
>>
>>43767832
>[Check the window that the “guard” fell through.”]
What was the significance of white hair?
>>
>>43767832
>[Leave without another thought, take her away from the cabin.]
>>
>>43767832
>[Check the window that the “guard” fell through.”]
>>
>>43767832
Are you still awake?
>>
I leave for a few hours and you guys slaughtered her family.

Not that i blame the windslash in particular, but im surprised nobody remembered the end of last thread.
>>
>>43768299
Fell asleep again... Sorry about that!

>>43768542
Amusing what people choose to forget, no?
>>
>>43767832
Approaching the shoddy, glass-less window that the guard had allegedly rolled through, you notice a distinct lack of a body on the other side, though there is an arrow driven into wet mud that shifts as the pouring rain comes down.

Whoever did this, took Odette's arrow and lived to tell of it. They even evaded a number of your own invisible slashes of wind... Whoever did this was definitely a force to be reckoned with.

Judging by the scene however, of heavy rain and lightning, you think you may have an idea of the culprit. You merely hope that your greatest fears aren't true.

You step outside the front of the building where Odette waits, getting drenched by the pouring rain. She looks to you, and you look back to her.

What adrenaline and vigor you had before is washed out by the tragedy just inside.

Instead of the rush of what's essentially a “prison break” you wonder how you could ever break this kind of news to her. And what you should do from here.


>End Scene.


Wouldn't have felt right without an end scene.
>>
>>43768760
Is faceleas genre savvy? Doesnt seem like reaper is.
>>
>>43768760
Thanks for the thread.



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