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>>43993816
"Be careful what you say here, heritor," the angel advises in the same tired, distant tone that she always keeps.

"You keep using that word," you note. "What do you mean?"

"You ever read a dictionary?"

"...I hate you so much."

You sit back down and scowl at Lora, irritably. "You going to be of any help this time?"

"I dunno, am I?" she asks, quirking her eyebrow yet higher. "Depends on what you ask."

> Ask about Lakehallow; should you make your home there?
> Ask what she wants from you.
> Ask about the Vintner.
> Write-in.

> Ask about Lakehallow; should you make your home there?
> Ask what she wants from you.
> Ask about the Vintner.

Jesus fuck I forgot the previous thread link again. Good job, OP.

PREVIOUS THREAD: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive/43963808/

Yes, I think we aren't limited to only a single thing, so there's little reason not to ask about everything we can.

>>43993899
>ask about the rules on "second chances" what do we keep, how many do-overs do we get, and WHY
>you sent the cigs along, can you send yourself?
> Ask about Lakehallow; should you make your home there?
> Ask what she wants from you.
> Ask about the Vintner.

>>43993964
Shit ends when we wake up, and dream time is fucky, so in all likelihood we won't have time for them all. I'd suggest prioritizing which ones you want answered first if we run out of time.

> Ask what she wants from you.
> Ask about Lakehallow; should you make your home there?
> Ask about the Vintner.

>>43993899
>Ask about Lakehallow; should you make your home there?
>Ask what she wants from you.
>Ask about the Vintner.

>skeleton crocodile with the soul of a notorious pirate
>harpy girl whose wings we've cut off
>fighter who owed us his life-after-death
my god we're the endboss and everyone we meet is becoming our minions

> Ask about Lakehallow; should you make your home there?
> Ask what she wants from you.
> Ask about the Vintner.
> Ask what other things she isn't allowed to tell you, other than her name.

>>43993997
This. There's limited time and I would vastly prefer one option per vote. Which I should have said when I posted but WEE PAST MIDNIGHT AND I GOT UP AT FIVE AM WEE.

So please, choose only one. If you'd prefer not to revise your vote, I will take the top vote from each post as that posts's vote.

>>43994039
very well, I'm changing >>43994004
to
>Ask about the Vintner.

>>43993899
>Ask about the Vintner.

>>43994010
Revising vote
> Ask what other things she isn't allowed to tell you, other than her name.

>"Are we one of your masters, then? If not, what makes our words carry that much weight?"
>Ask what she wants for herself.
>If it seems sane, maybe follow up with what we might reasonably be able to do to help with that.

Calling vote in eight minutes. I had eyes bigger than my stomach when I opened the thread up, but I'ma catch some sleep, slam some coffee in the morning, and write the update at that time.

Vote called at 12:30 AM EST.

>>43993899
> Ask about Lakehallow; should you make your home there?
> Ask what she wants from you.
> Ask about the Vintner.
Also ask her if she wants to lick Bri's .... please?

>>43994256
Anon pls. Pls. Don't do this to me so soon in, I haven't even had time to get all cynical and corrupt yet.

VOTES CALLED, UPDATE WHEN I WAKE UP.

Thanks to everyone for participating and for a great first three threads.

Going to archive this stupid early just in case. By which I mean now.

>>43994256
let's not

>>43994256
Yeah, given the warning to watch what we say, even asking if she wants to might be a bad idea. Plus, y'know. Rude much? We only met her two days ago. And we've spoken to her for maybe half-an-hour in total.

>>43994356
I've already voted but apparently OP is still off in the land of slumber. Let's not have the thread archive at 18 replies, yeah?

I'm alive. Coffee, shower, update, in that order.

Sooo, I did some digging after re-reading that 'ever read a dictionary' comment. Figured a heritor was a little different than an inheritor, wanted to know how.

The wiki definition of a heritor related to medieval Scottish law. All land was owned by the crown, but it could be 'lent' to others for a time. Those others could, in turn, lend to even more, and so on and so forth. Lands lent this way tended to have time stipulations attached to them. Until death, x years, that sort of stuff.

Heritors were special landowners, though. They had no time stipulations attached to the land they owned. In essence, as long as they met other legal and financial obligations, they would always have the right to that land.

I imagine if the terms were right, heritors could be extended to a family line. Given that necromancy was our family business, it may be that we're bound by some ancient laws between gods and our ancestors to oversee certain duties. Something like making sure that life stays for the living and death stays for the dead, with caveats allowed for us due to our administration of that task.

It'd be a good reason for why we didn't stay dead. Much of our home was wiped out, so we may be the only person capable of carrying out our duties as part of the family line. Given the nature of our work, those obligations could very well have the power to drag us back to the living each time we die until we find some way of passing them on.

>>43998382
the only instance of Heritor I can recall is from FFTA2, and that about lines up.

One who has been granted power/land/responsibility without being bounded by time.

I think the theory is pretty solid, but it leaves me wondering how it works if a similar exchange would have happened with the other characters.

>>43998536
The time loop(ish) would probably remain across all characters, but I could see the reasons being different. Maybe the technical priestess has a contract with a single god, while ours is apparently something multiple ones have arranged, that sort of thing.

The reason for ours likely ties in with Bri's theme of No Good Deed Goes Unpunished. Her ancestors would have brokered this contract with the gods/divine/somethings for noble purposes, but it came with a cost. One every Ia Croix must pay, living and dead, until eternity sees life and death themselves end.

On that note,
>Ask what we're the heritor of.
next. Probably important stuff there.

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"Well...I dunno, let's start simple, with things you can probably comment on."

"This ought to be amusing."

"Do you /have/ to be rude?" you ask in exasperation.

"My life is a torrent of misery broken up by torture and violation," Lora drawls. "Yes."

You sigh and rest your elbows on your knees. "Lakehallow. Whatever it is you want from me has to do with the Dungeon, but what about the people there? I...my family serves communities. And that one feels like a good one. I could make a home there."

Lora shrugs. "Far be it from me to tell you how to handle your living arrangements. If you want to protect Lakehallow, our interests coincide. The town will not be safe as it stands now. The Dungeon..." she trails off, as though looking for a word. And then she grins, faintly. "If you were cooking, I might tell you that there is no lid on the pot, and the flame is too high."

"You're not going to explain that further, are you?"

"She learns," the angel drawls.

"Look, this, all this, how does /this/ work?" you ask, gesturing to the waiting room around you. "Why didn't I die properly? How many of these...these do-overs, do I get?"

"I don't know," Lora says honestly. "This is the first time I've tried this particular gambit."

>...What do you mean, you?
>...What do you mean, first time?
>...What do you mean, gambit?

>...What do you mean, you?
Understanding the players involved seems more important than quibbling over wording.

>>43998614
>...What do you mean, gambit?
this doesn't SEEM to be within our domain, more one of time than death, but is it actually?

>>43998614
"You" and "Gambit" seem pretty self explanatory. She's responsible, somehow, for our respawn gimmick, and obviously it's a gambit because she's desperate to get out of horribleshitholestan.

>...What do you mean, first time?

>>43998614
>...What do you mean, you?
I'll back the other anon on his reasoning, sorta. Her wording is probably VERY important, given her constraints, but I'm more interested in who she is and what her purpose is. Maybe throw in a line about how many she's playing against, since she probably can't tell us who they are.

As the anon in >>43998587, I'll re-state my interest in learning what we're the heritor of. If she can't answer quickly, tell her to answer the question next time we talk. May give her some time to figure out how she can tell us about it without upsetting her masters.

>...What do you mean, you?

Votes called, writing.

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"What do you mean, /you/ tried this gambit?" you ask, slowly.

"This is the first time I've appointed a heritor," Lora says with a shrug. "I should have tried it earlier, but I thought I could escape on my own. Now it's become clear that I cannot fulfill my duties without outside assistance. Attempts to recruit...assistance...failed miserably."

The rattling chains manifest around Lora once more, though this time you notice something else; a ring, bolted to the back of her neck, with a leash leading off from it.

"If I cannot get help, I am empowered to choose a replacement, even if it means change in the Dungeon. This is a momentous time, and you've just become a momentous person. Congratulations."

Lora stands and crosses the waiting room. You shrink back, feeling oddly...intimidated. She bends down at the waist and lays a soft kiss on your brow; you feel /power/ course through your body, revitalizing and energizing you. She takes a step back and puts one shackled hand on her hip.

"This kiss of an angel, freely given. A thank-you, and an apology. Have back the years of your life that you've burnt away and know that this gift cannot be given again. No one ever gets more than one angel, heritor."

"I -" you stop, and swallow around a sudden lump in your throat. "You can do that?"

"I was not forbidden from it. Now wake, and face the living."

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>>43998852
Kiss or no kiss, you still transferred a soul last night, and your body feels like someone worked you over and then tossed you in a carriage on a shitty road. At least the bed is soft and you're warm, to say nothing of the nice, soft cuddles -

Waitafuckingminute.

You open your eyes and find Amy, /blessedly still clothed, thank the gods for small mercies/, cuddled up under the blankets with you. She or Nathan must have tucked you both in; the half-harpy looks small, and comfortable, and smiles dreamily with her head against your chest. Curiosity overpowering good sense, you stroke her hair and get a happy, sleepy chirp back from the wingless bird girl.

Well. Fuck.

> Shake her awake. There's such a thing as personal space bubbles, goddamnit.
> Wake her gently. She's still hurt, and honestly this may have been influenced by her (or someone else) drinking too much.
> Actually, y'know...this is kinda nice?

> Actually, y'know...this is kinda nice?
I was trying to resist but geez I'm/Bri's only human.

>>43998899
>> Actually, y'know...this is kinda nice?
Nice to have something nice after days of fighting.

>>43998899
>Actually, y'know...this is kinda nice?

We're (semi-)decent and we're all emotionally drained, let the paraplegikeet get her snuggle on.

> Wake her gently. She's still hurt, and honestly this may have been influenced by her (or someone else) drinking too much.

> Actually, y'know...this is kinda nice?
but...
> Wake her gently. She's still hurt, and honestly this may have been influenced by her (or someone else) drinking too much.

"Awake" doesn't have to mean "getting up immediately", right? Might be good to have a chat with Amy, clear up a few more things...

>>43998899
> Wake her gently. She's still hurt, and honestly this may have been influenced by her (or someone else) drinking too much.
I'd rather get up and moving. No need to be a dick about it, though.

Also, guess the angel is tied in part to the dungeon, and her duties in it are important enough that even her chains and normal responsibilities can't keep her from taking some actions.

Like naming us her successor.

...from what we've seen so far, that's a pretty fucked up job she's passing on.

Votes called, writing.

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On the one hand, this is your bubble, and there is a bird in your bubble that you /just recently/ had a talk with about this whole 'get to know me for me' thing. On the other hand...well, on the other hand this is kinda nice, and it's not like she's hurting anything. You decide to let Amy sleep for awhile and gently comb her hair with your fingers, enjoying the tiny bird noises that result.

Eventually, though, biology forces the issue.

"Amy," you murmur gently. She /wiggles/, snuggling in more closely, and you chuckle in amused exasperation. "Amy, you gotta get up. Amy. Ames. Godsdamnit."

You tickle just behind her ear, and she flinches with a giggle before her bright blue eyes flutter open, looking straight into yours.

"Amy," you murmur seriously, "I have to pee."

You wave Amy into the outhouse after you're done with it, and she ducks out with a grateful grin. So much to do today. You need to take stock of your new possessions, probably get some more clothes, wash the ones you own at some point - they're getting a bit ripe from all the traveling before your exile - find out more about the Vintner and the Basement, take stock of the town and if you're still welcome here, meet with Meadows on Amy's long-term care, maybe try to get to know the bird a bit, see if Nathan got the traditional hero's reward last night...

Oi.

> Start with a decent breakfast. Amy'd probably appreciate it.
> Hunt down Nathan first. He may need rescuing from smitten young women. Or men. Or both.
> See Meadows.
> Take inventory.
> Write-in.

>>43999136
>Start with a decent breakfast. Amy'd probably appreciate it.

Hangover prevention, ho! Plus, we can have a hot plate of Not Die ready for Nate.

>>43999136
>> Start with a decent breakfast. Amy'd probably appreciate it.
> Then we can do some of the other stuff. We should probably get to all those things, sooner or later.

>>43999136
Did we ever ask Amy if she could cook, Vox? I know we're only passable at it. We can
>Take inventory
if she can, or
>Prepare breakfast
if she can't.

>>43999136
> Start with a decent breakfast. Amy'd probably appreciate it.
This might be a rest day. Start it off well.

>>43999182
You didn't directly, but she mentioned field cooking as part of a dungeonbreaker's skill set.

>>43998982
>Like naming us her successor.
>...from what we've seen so far, that's a pretty fucked up job she's passing on.

The impression I got was that something's gone *wrong* with the job, and that's why she's got all these chains on—that she's choosing a successor in hopes that we, with our powers and some of her help, can fix the problems with the Dungeon, and by doing so possibly get those chains removed, before we "officially" take over as...whatever the hell it actually is she does (and in doing so, become potentially subject to the same strictures...which we will hopefully have removed).

> Start with a decent breakfast. Amy'd probably appreciate it.
And we should probably talk to her about it.

Votes called, getting more coffee then writing.

>>43999199
Well... I'm thinking the chains came first, and they gradually interfered with her duties to the point that she's about to fail them outright, and she's railroading a successor through to keep things from falling apart in the Dungeon.

I don't think Lora expects the chains to come off, though. Her position is clearly *important* to a lot of beings, hence their attempts to control her. As long as she controlled it, they controlled her position, and she remained valuable to them. Once she loses it, though, she'll lose her value, but those chains will likely remain. Who knows what they'll do with her then, but it probably won't be pretty.

Still, it's in the best interests for the Dungeon, I imagine. As well as the people in it. She can do a bit of good by putting someone else in her place who won't have as much interference as she does, even if it fucks her over in the end.

What was that thing about good deeds again?

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"You said you can cook?" you ask when Amy gets back inside.

Amy nods. "I was taught, yeah. Mom didn't really know how, since harpies kinda eat their food raw, and Dad sorta never learned, but my mentor insisted."

"...Do /you/ eat your food raw?"

"I can," Amy agrees with a little grin. "Though ever since learning how to cook I tend to cook it at least /some/, just for the flavor."

"You feel up to making breakfast while I take stock of our new stuff?"

"You got it," the half-harpy agrees happily. "Should I make some for Nathan?"

"You have any idea where he is?" you inquire.

"He said something about avoiding 'eligable peers' and promised he'd be back."

"Then yeah, make a plate up. It'll be cold by the time he gets it, but that's his problem."

The house soon fills with the smell of glorious, glorious /food/ while you take stock. A quick survey of the things in the house turns up:

> 1 month's food and food-related supplies
> Cookware
> A fleet of ships-in-a-bottle
> Two greatcoats with steel chain backing
> One cutlass
> A wardrobe full of Kells' clothing
> Modest savings (spendable here and in Glen, maaaybe deeper into the Dungeon, with many of the coins being silver)
> A small bag of semi-precious gemstones
> Erotic woodcuts (quickly hidden back in the wardrobe, fucking hell Kells)
> One outhouse
> A large fishing net
> Entirely too much hemp rope.

Somewhere, Amy found black tea and sugar, and she serves a cup for both of you when breakfast is ready. You notice her portions are a lot smaller than yours, but she explains rather frankly that the worst thing she could do to herself at this point is gorge and hurt herself.

"Meadows gave me advice on it," she concludes, with an easy smile that you find oddly infectious.

"So...how'd you get in my bed?" you ask teasingly.

Amy coughs. "I, um. Walked into the house. And then moved you to be more comfy, and tucked you in, and...then...sorta...crawled in after."

"/Ames/."

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>>43999523
"There was only one bed," she protests, but at your sustained Glare of Indignation she looks down at her plate and mutters an apology.

"Anyway," you continue, letting up on her. "We should probably, I dunno, attend to some stuff today. Take some time to get our bearings instead of rushing off blind into the dark. Plus I still kinda feel like I lost a five-round boxing match."

"I can help," she offers brightly.

> Sure. You should get to know her anyway.
> No. She still needs time to recover, and you're not sure she's actually trying to follow your advice.

And

> Find Nathan
> See Meadows
> Write-in.

>>43999556
> No. She still needs time to recover, and you're not sure she's actually trying to follow your advice.

We can talk to her at night.

> Find Nathan
We also might want to find out who is leader now.

>>43999556
> Sure. You should get to know her anyway.
> Find Nathan
If she's not going to follow our advice, then at least we can assemble the party so we can *all* learn about each other.

Or they can both gush about how awesome we are together. It'll drive us mad, but maybe we need to get used to being appreciated.

We can find Meadows after that, ask what the shops are, who's in charge now that Kells is a giant fuckoff croc, have him check on Amy. That sorta stuff.

Well, we want to
> Find Nathan
for sure. Get the adventuring party together.

Can we compromise the first one? Let her help, but gently chastise her to remember that we could be a murderer. Despite having clearly risked our lives twice by now.
> Sure. You should get to know her anyway. (but tease/chastise)

>>43999556
We should probably buy a bed, if not for Nathan, if not for Amy, then for whatever....patient....that we may have to deal with in the future.

Miiiiight not be good for sleeping after the first "operation".

>>43999610
We are a murderer, anon. We killed Nate, after all!
... I mean, we brought him back, but the point stands!

>>43999630
I would be entertained if it became a tradition for each party member to sleep with Bri in bed shortly after joining. She'd be sooooo mad.

>>43999650
>I would be entertained if it became a tradition for each party member to sleep with Bri in bed shortly after joining. She'd be sooooo mad.
pass.

We just aren't actually sure what Nathan's plans are. Technically, he can just go back home right?

Calling vote in ten minutes.

>>43999556
> Sure. You should get to know her anyway.
> Find Nathan

Called, writing.

>>43999674
That's... huh. Kells mentioned he could have gone back after serving his sentence, so people can leave. Nathan doesn't even *have* a sentence, since we brought him here with us. And while resurrection is illegal out there, the other guy we brought back is doing fine out there, so no one seems to have a problem with rezzed people, just the rezzer.

>>43999814
Are we missing anything, Vox? Could Nathan just leave if he wanted?

We may as well mention it to Nathan if he can. Us being a Good Samaritan and all.

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"Sure. I did promise you can help when I have a job," you agree. "Got an idea of where Nathan might've went?"

Amy arranges a plate for him while she thinks. "...Docks. Town was avoiding it, since you were working. He's probably sleeping in a boat."

"Good a theory as any," you agree. You throw on your dust-grey coat, put your top hat on your dark hair, and set off with Amy in tow. She still seems a bit unsteady, but you think that might be because she's not used to having wings yet. Still, you take the plate from her so Nate actually has a chance to enjoy some breakfast.

Sure enough, you find the young man groaning in the bottom of a rowboat, taking sips from his canteen and, from the looks of things, attempting to will himself to die.

"Hangover?" you ask, gently.

"Mmmhm," he groans.

"Breakfast?"

"Helpmeup."

You offer a hand out and Nathan takes it gratefully, pulling himself upright. You hand him the plate, which he picks at cautiously. You and Amy take a seat on the dock, swinging your feet over the edge.

"Ames says you didn't want your heroic reward last night," you mention casually.

"Didn't feel right," Nathan mutters.

"You sure you aren't sly?" Amy asks innocently.

"Got offers there too. Still didn't feel right."

"...There a particular reason why?"

"Yeah, an' it's nunya."

"Loud and clear."

> "Want to come with us while we explore the town?"
> "Care to come back to the house so we can decide what to do with some of the stuff?"
> "Wanna discuss sleeping arrangements here?"
> "Should we leave you be while we go see Meadows about Amy's long-term care?"

>>43999856
Oh yes. He can leave any time he likes; he could even take the dumbwaiter on the island up, presuming Glen can be convinced that he's himself and not a monster (not hard).

>>43999919
> "Wanna discuss sleeping arrangements here?"
> "Should we leave you be while we go see Meadows about Amy's long-term care?"

Once again, in that order.

>>43999919
>explain the finer details of unlife, with regards to how his body should function
>Now that you've had a taste of heroing, what do you want to DO? There's nothing stopping you from going back to Glen and at least greeting the people who knew you

and since we ALL know he's going to find a reason to stay
> "Wanna discuss sleeping arrangements here?"

>>43999919
> "Want to come with us while we explore the town?"
> "Wanna discuss sleeping arrangements here?"
Amy gets the bed. Bri will probably go for a pillow and sleep on a carpet or blanket. So what about Nathan?

Votes called, writing.

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"So...elephant in the room," you say with a shrug. "Sleeping arrangements. Assuming you're staying, we've got three people in one house."

Nathan opens his mouth to say something, only to be interrupted by Amy going, "I can sleep in the rafters."

You and Nathan give her a look, and the part-harpy blushes and ducks her head. "I like nests."

"I keep forgetting you're a bird," Nathan notes, rubbing his head.

"That's fine, it's easy to forget without my...these days," Amy finishes lamely.

"Okay. So if that's the case, think we could sell off the bed and just get a pair of hammocks?" you suggest.

"But what if someone wants to be...y'know, intimate?" Amy points out.

"Oh yes, because that's never been done without a bed."

"Briiiiii," the bird girl protests.

"We can do bunks," Nathan says, wincing at Amy's voice. "Bunks work for me."

"Fine, bunks work. But that still doesn't answer the question of if you're sticking around, Nathan."

Nathan sighs. "I'm staying. And not because I owe you, though I do and don't say otherwise. It's because the future I planned out for myself can't happen any more. I can't be a soldier like this, not over land. But I can be an adventurer."

Maybe it's the hangover, but with his eyes downcast and his face drawn in pain, the young man looks almost like he's grieving.

> Comfort him. It's better to be alive than dead but this still sucks.
> Promise that you'll never turn away his help if he's willing to give it.
> No comment.
> Write-in.

> Comfort him. It's better to be alive than dead but this still sucks.

>Promise that you'll never turn away his help if he's willing to give it.

A lot more supportive than just comforting him--both of you know what's up.

Also, >Amy seems really jazzed up about sex in a proper bed

This amuses me. We should be her, ahem, wingwoman and then tease her about it.

> Promise that you'll never turn away his help if he's willing to give it.
More meaningful, I suppose.

Usual caveat of 'unless I think you're being A Hero, in which case you listen to me' stuff thrown in to lighten the mood.

>>44000413
>comfort
>At least say some proper goodbyes at Glen

>>44000413
> Comfort him. It's better to be alive than dead but this still sucks.

So what, all of us are extraordinarily miserable at some thing or another, including a half harpy that no longer has wings to even identify themselves as a harpy anymore, a lung damaged warrior, and a borderline suicidal necromancer.

>>44000493
> Borderline suicidal

You have my attention. Expand on this, anon?

>>44000505
We keep doing blatantly self destructive and flat out insane things for no reason other than the kindness of our hearts, we openly and often use magic that drains years off our lives, and we've consistantly done things to alienate ourselves from populations. That, plus a whole depressing backstory, lead me to think the MC is nowhere near in a healthy state of mind and mostly covering it up with her entire persona.

>>44000505
Well, not that anon, but we do keep helping people in spite of-
>>44000505
I was turning it more into a joke, but sure. I suppose we're unbalanced, but we're necromancers. That's arguably a good thing to be, since it means we're otherwise normal. I'd say how we're playing Bri and how she's been written shows an unusual lack of care in how others perceive her.

So, we're a little nutty. It's fine. At least we don't hurt others. Much.

>>44000535
>>44000621
Some of this is that Bri sees life as a currency in addition to being, you know, life. She /was/ planning on eventually liching out, for the precise reason that she'd like to die for real on her own terms rather than burning out on the job.

>>44000413
As a note for future actions, once we're settled into town we should explain the whole ghost debt thing and spend the out of body experience in an area where we have friends nearby to watch out for out body in a relatively safe area.
I just can't shake the feeling that the sooner we can clear that debt the better.

>>44000413
> Promise that you'll never turn away his help if he's willing to give it.
> Since nothing speaks against staying in town for a bit, plan for some serious recuperation, physically and mentally. Settle in, get food, talk to people. You can leave anytime if you have to, enjoy not having to.

Calling the vote, writing.

OR NOT, BECAUSE NOW WE ARE TIED.

Five minutes or tiebreaker vote calls.

>>44000413
>Comfort him. It's better to be alive than dead but this still sucks.

CALLED. WRITING. CAPITAL LETTERS.

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You put a hand on Nathan's shoulder and give him a wan smile. "If it coulda been another way..."

"I know," he agrees softly. "I'm not ungrateful."

"You're still allowed to be sad, Nate," you tell him. "As Cousin Jack once said, 'Just because you got stabbed with a clean knife instead of a rusty one don't mean you weren't stabbed'."

"You should write a book," Nathan says slowly, "of your family's sayings."

"I'd be banned from publishing."

"It'd sell down here," Amy opines cheerfully. "They sound like the sort of folks who'd like the Dungeon."

"Oh yeah," you agree. "I'm not even the first la Croix down here. Supposedly we've got a shrine in the second level, the one known as the Lichyard. I kinda wanna find it if I'm down here anyway."

"The Keepers can help you there," Amy says brightly. "They tend the shrines and graves down there."

"You should still head up to Glen and maybe say some goodbyes," you advise Nathan. "Let your master know you're okay, let the healer know you're okay. Maybe let Glen know that Lakehallow can trade again."

"Yeah. Yeah, I think I will," Nate agrees, nodding. "That sounds like a great idea."

"And while you're doing that, /we/ can meet the new Lakewarden, whoever he or she is," Amy suggests. "And maybe see the town and learn things about it."

You look over at the part-harpy /and she is petting Fetch how in the hell did she/ -

"...They're attracted to birds," you say with a sigh. "Of course they are. Skeletons. Gods, I hate working with skeletons."

"...Why?" Nathan asks.

"For the same reason blacksmiths hate working with shitty iron."

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>>44001079
"Okay, so now we have a plan," Amy says. "Break up and get to it?"

"Yeah, I suppose we should," you agree. "See you this evening, Nate?"

"...Is it even day right now?" he asks, puzzled.

"Okay, see you in about twelve hours?" you correct, rolling your eyes.

"Yeah, sure."

You get up and wave to Nathan; when you click your tongue for your chickens - the weasel was beyond saving - Amy springs obediently to her feet and falls in at your flank. Thaaaaat's not concerning. Noooope. No concern there whatsoever.

> See Meadows.
> Make arrangements for the bunk.
> Seek out the new Lakewarden.
> Fuck it, laundry, bath, cleaning, scrub the house down. You've eaten and now you want the things you live in and own to be /clean/.
> Sell the spare items in the house to get stuff like more supplies, new clothes, and maybe a crossbow.
> Write-in.

>>44001079
>Supposedly we've got a shrine in the second level, the one known as the Lichyard.
But will it have a secret cache of lich-making supplies?
Even if it doesn't ,visit it anyway. We've established that family's important.

>>44001123
>> Make arrangements for the bunk.
> Seek out the new Lakewarden.
We're going to want to make arrangements for being possessed for a while.

>>44001129
To clarify, the entire second level is known as the Lichyard; the term 'lichyard' is a somewhat archaic name for graveyards & cemetaries and has the same root as the modern term 'lich', which originally just meant 'man/person'.

Thus, the lichyard was the place you stored people. Dead people.

I petition for putting "claiming our ancestral rights" from the Lichyard on the list of things to do soon, if not immediately. Because that sounds excessively important, and that there'll be something 'special' to find.

>>44001123
>> See Meadows.
>> Make arrangements for the bunk.

> Fuck it, laundry, bath, cleaning, scrub the house down. You've eaten and now you want the things you live in and own to be /clean/.

If we're going to live down here, let's Live down here. Plus, with all the ritual and meaningfulness flying around, there's almost definitely something to making a house your own.

>>44001154
Hey vox, apparently you're less than 9 hours away from setting a record due to your excessive quest running. You complete and utter psychopath

Alright folks. I have to leave for work in forty minutes and voting seems a bit slow this morning/afternoon, so I'ma extend the vote until 9:30 PM EST or so, when I get home, and call it then.

In the meantime, I'm here to answer questions, discuss, etc.

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>>44001464
Wait, vhat? Asplain?

>>44001720
You've been running consecutive threads of your quest for days now, and almost are at the point where its at the longest consecutive quest thread running, all because you don't believe in sleep.

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>>44001760
That can't be right. Lemme go check the arch - JESUS FUCK.

Um. Well. It's been fun so far? I dunno.

I may or may not have a medical-grade caffeine addiction. Or be eating souls to sustain my unholy power.

How's that even measured? Thread open to thread close? Saging out for inactivity? I mean, there's been breaks, I /have/ slept some, I slept at the start of /this/ thread.

>>44001816
I dunno, but somewhere there is a tribunal of autistic anons measuring threads to judge this. >>44001816


Dude, I've tried pulling off your level of sleep also, Caffine stopped working and I passed out and had extraordinarily fucked nightmares because caffine does bad things to your sleeping mind.

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>>44001883
Eh, I get 4-6 hours a night, I'm fine.

Leaving for work in 13 minutes, will be stuck phone posting if at all. This is, again, my first quest and while I've gotten some great advice on the matter from the guy who writes Maverick Hunter Quest I'm definitely willing to take feedback & suggestions from anon. You are, after all, my audience.

Hell, just thoughts on the characters/dialogue/descriptions would be nice. I've noticed a lot of quests tend to be more...intimately detailed? I'm a bit more minimalistic myself but I'm not sure how that's working out with the format.

>>44002044

I'm liking your style so far. Beige isn't necessarily bad, and you're nowhere near as minimalist as some authors I've read.

>>44002044
>This is, again, my first quest
You could have had me fooled. Your writing and characters are top notch with a setting that appeals to me greatly. The dialogue is believable and natural feeling as well.

Don't feel the need to match other QMs; do what works for you. It's been great so far.

>>44002044
I have no real complaints, other than that I can't keep up with the quests when they're live because of having only a mildly insane sleep schedule.

>>44002044
If this were a novel, I'd have trouble with this style. Too much action all the time, not enough description padding it to help pace it out.

In a quest format? It's perfectly fine. Everything is broken up by posts, so there's plenty of time to absorb what's going on.

The dialogue is good, which is really selling it all. If you look back, almost everything you have IS dialogue, so stick to that as one of your strong suits.

You haven't lost any real characterization by trimming out the fluff, either. The dialogue and what little actions you do describe are enough to let us feel out the characters you're creating.

The only undecided thing is how you'll flesh out this setting as you go on. Given how little we know about what's going on and low expectations on figuring the big stuff out right now, we're good with scant info. As the setting gets bigger and we start to learn more, we may start to expect more information since we'll be actively searching for it.

We'll see how that turns out, though. You've put enough thought into developing these characters and settings that after several marathon sessions without a break to tweak they're still interesting. Good enough for me to believe you'll at least do a decent job of sorting out that problem.

>>44002618
I give this review, a good review.

>>44001123
> Seek out the new Lakewarden.
Then
> Make arrangements for the bunk.

>>44002618
Wee phone posting from work.

Padding has been a weak point for me in general. I never learned the difference between good padding and pointless blathering, so I tend to avoid it entirely. Still, I should possibly work on it some. Thanks for the feedback anon!

Five hours to vote close.

>>44004022
Five hours? Then I should probably vote, too.
>>44001123
>> Make arrangements for the bunk. > Seek out the new Lakewarden.

Vox, I like your quest so far. I don't have any pointers for you because I'm not good at such stuff. But I hope you already decided whether you want this quest to go the slutty/harem route or the celibacy/bro route, because it will come up. All waifus a shit, necromancy rulez

>>44004239
As mentioned previously, I'm not restricting romance for reasons other than sanity.

>>44001123
> Fuck it, laundry, bath, cleaning, scrub the house down. You've eaten and now you want the things you live in and own to be /clean/.
> Seek out the new Lakewarden.

In that order.

>>44001123
>> Fuck it, laundry, bath, cleaning, scrub the house down. You've eaten and now you want the things you live in and own to be /clean/.
We'll do what we need to do and maybe tomorrow or the day after we can let Mark take over for exactly one day.

GUESS WHO GOT OFF WORK EARLY?

I'm gonna hit the dishes and then call the vote. /You can still vote until it is called/. This is your approximately thirty minute warning.

>>44003335
2/10 too short, terrible review-review

>>44001123
>Fuck it, laundry, bath, cleaning, scrub the house down. You've eaten and now you want the things you live in and own to be /clean/.

>>44001123
>> Fuck it, laundry, bath, cleaning, scrub the house down. You've eaten and now you want the things you live in and own to be /clean/.
Followed by
> Seek out the new Lakewarden.

Calling the vote. Let the great and terrible Tally begin.

>>44008752
Sir or Madam, I must inform you that review-review-reviews are not allowed under the reviewing guidelines.

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A gift, from a friend of mine.

"Okay. So we're gonna go find the new Lakewarden, and then we're going to clean everything we own. We'll separate out the stuff we want to sell when we get there, but I wanna scrub the house top-to-bottom, get the bed out of there, do our laundry, scrub /ourselves/ -"

"I can wash your -"

"The fuck did we just talk about yesterday?" you say to the harpy girl, giving her an incredulous look. She whistles innocently; the sound is oddly layered and melodic, and you find yourself almost hypnotized by it.

Then you walk into a lamp-post. Scratch that. Completely hypnotized.

"Sorry!" Amy calls sheepishly. "I, um. When I sing. I get it from my mother, harpies are better at it."

"I didn't need that face," you mutter, rubbing the area containing your highly sensitive lamp-post-detection nerves. "Anything else I should know about?"

Amy thinks, and then gets a playful look. "Sure. Throw me at that crow's nest."

You look up, then down at Amy. "It's twenty feet up."

"Uh-huh."

"And quite a few forward."

"Just do it!" she insists pleadingly. Figuring on making a joke of it, you grab the scruff of her shirt and /hurl/ aaaaand she's sailing through the air fuck the what?

Amy, well, /flies/ through the air with an easy, acrobatic grace; she twists mid-throw and lands on the roof of the crow's nest feet-first, legs slightly bent. She catches herself on the small spike on the roof and looks down at you with a grin.

"...Okay, how?" you ask in amazement.

"Harpy magic," she says proudly. "Works on myself and anything I touch. I dunno how to express it exactly, it...it eases flight? Like. You know how Kells can swim even though he's a skeleton and there's no way he should be able to do anything but walk the bottom? It's like that but for flying. And I've used it for other stuff too, like lifing heavy objects or, say, picking the locks on doors barred from the other side. It doesn't always help as much as I want it to.

>>44009384
Cute~

>>44009384
So basically, we just to figure out how to cover Amy in pointy bits, and then we'll have a guided missile for an ally?

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>>44009384
Comprehension dawns on you. "That's how you could fly," you reason, and she nods happily.

"Exactly! That's how Mom flies too. Dad was able to copy the trick for himself with some animated wax-and-feather wings, but he doesn't do it aboveground. Something about knowing how that story ends already?"

"Oh yeah," you agree. "Terrible idea. Can you get back down?"

Amy jumps and floats down like a feather, landing lightly on her feet and beaming proudly at you. She bounces on the balls of her feet /and her eyes are up there, Brianna/.

You scratch her hair and she chirps and nuzzles your hand.

"That's an interesting trick," an older, female voice calls from down the street. "Scared my sentries something fierce."

The woman approaching is younger than Kells, though that's a bit like saying 'less dead than a zombie'; her hair is grey and her face marked by a slashing scar from something's massive claws. From the lack of armor and the profusion of pockets on her rough coat, you'd guess 'wizard'.

"Sorry, Ms...?" you offer.

She holds her hand out, and you shake it gladly. "Ms. Slaughter, if you please, and yes, that's my family name. It's an old family name, and I'll thank you for not slandering it with the jokes this modern era seems fit to heap upon it."

"Sore spot?" Amy says sympathetically.

"I was prosecuted for my name once, by a town that felt I was self-evidently villainous, and exiled into the Dungeon by a rigged court. You might say that."

You wince. "Not Starfall though, right?"

"No, though that's scant consolation. Starfall rents its garbage dump to anyone willing to pay the coin for its use." You can /taste/ the bitterness in her soul. "I'll be the new Lakewarden, until I die or they decide someone is better. Lakewarden Kells was a good man and a good leader, and I intend on honoring his word. I understand that you'll need time to adapt to your new circumstances, however. You'll find the people of the town grateful for your help."

>>44009442
>>44009530
HUGGIT

CHUGGIT

FOOBAW

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>>44009534
"I don't suppose you know anyone willing to buy his old bed?" you offer, hopefully.

"...Girl, there are people in this town who would offer you a time-share on their souls for a real bed with a real mattress. It's a luxury Kells afforded with savings he bled for. He lost his /hand/ earning that bed."

Amy whistles, impressed. You cough.

"Well...what about building a bunk over it?"

"Considerably cheaper, and arrangements can be made with Glen to deliver a straw -"

"Feather," Amy corrects.

"-feather mattress," Ms. Slaughter accepts, smoothly. "I understand your young man intends on ascending the dumbwaiter? If you've no objection, I intend on giving him some work to do on the surface."

"He's not /mine/," you say firmly. "Nate's his own man and can do what he wants."

"Excellent. It's been a pleasure, Ms. la Croix, and I would like, again, to express Lakehallow's thanks. Blessings on your day, and your fortune."

Slaughter bows, and you return the gesture, and then she continues on her way down the street.

"She was nice," Amy remarks.

"Yeah, she was."

>>44009623
>Kells, pre croc
>post croc
>Everything's the same except for the face

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>>44009623
AND NOW, FOR SOMETHING DIFFERENT:

> You are Nathan Bookchild, on your way up to Glen with trade goods, paying work, and old business to resolve.
> You are Amy, exploring Lakehallow while Brianna scrubs the house down and insists you're not well enough to help, the /meanie/.

>>44009669
>You are Nathan Bookchild, on your way up to Glen with trade goods, paying work, and old business to resolve.
Nathan's not going to unlive for very long if he doesn't git gud

>>44009669
> You are Amy, exploring Lakehallow while Brianna scrubs the house down and insists you're not well enough to help, the /meanie/.

Bird is the word.

> You are Nathan Bookchild, on your way up to Glen with trade goods, paying work, and old business to resolve.

I like Amy, but I don't know if I'd like to *be* Amy.

>>44009669
>> You are Nathan Bookchild, on your way up to Glen with trade goods, paying work, and old business to resolve.

>>44009669
>> You are Nathan Bookchild, on your way up to Glen with trade goods, paying work, and old business to resolve.
Not sure if I trust Nathan to play by himself just yet. At least Amy is wandering a town instead of traveling a short distance in the dungeon.

>>44009669
> You are Amy, exploring Lakehallow while Brianna scrubs the house down and insists you're not well enough to help, the /meanie/.

>>44009669
> You are Nathan Bookchild, on your way up to Glen with trade goods, paying work, and old business to resolve.

>>44009384
>you find yourself almost hypnotized by it.
Are you mixing in sirens with harpies?

>>44010149
who doesn't?

>>44010149
Harpies in D&D and plenty of other games have hypnotizing songs.

Votes called. Acquiring dinner, then writing.

>>44010215
>>44010149
Thanks for clarifying. I haven't played D&D for a long time so I was thinking about the Odyssey, and the ancient Greeks didn't mix them.

>>44010149

I fail to see a reason why not, and bird song is a fair enough point anyway.

>>44010217
By the way, do you have a twitter?

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You are Nathan Bookchild, once more on a boat in an underground lake while wearing full armor, though this time the giant crocodile is on your side. Hopefully.

You smell Rose Island before you see it; a warm breeze brings the perfume of the blossoms to your nose, along with the warm burn of witchlights. The roses are /everywhere/, sustained in neat rows by witchlights. The citizens with you unload the ship with your help and carry it towards the center of the island, where you can see a shaft of sunlight.

The platform you see is even more massive than the Oubliette, and you gesture at it with one hand while looking at one of the men with you.

"Is everyone in the Dungeon obsessed with understatement?" you ask, pointedly.

"You could say that," he says with a shrug. You sigh and load the platform before hauling on a rope; above, you hear a bell ring, deep and loud. So /that/'s why there's a belltower in Glen's warehouse! You always wondered, but never really wanted to /ask/.

A familiar voice issues from above. "Ho, the Dungeon! What's the word?"

"It's me, Brandon," you call up. "Nathan, with goods for trade and a powerful need to not be wearing a dead pirate's clothes."

"Why are you wearing a dead pirate's clothes?" Brandon asks, amused.

"Because all of mine were dirty, now /haul me up/."

"You'll have to touch iron at the top to prove you're human," Brandon warns. "Haul the dumbwaiter up!"

You feel the chains attached to the platform go taut, and then it begins to ascend.

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>>44010747
You grip an iron bar with your bare hand at the top and give Brandon a quirked eyebrow before he crushes you in a hug. There is much excited congratulations on your continued state of life and health from the men in the warehouse. They write out an inventory of the goods you brought with you and jot down the order that Slaughter requested. Brandon looks it over and finds the deal equitable enough, and in keeping with Glen's traditional trades with Lakehallow.

"Truth be told, we'd worried they got wiped out," Brandon admits. "The town'll pitch in and send some extra. We're doing well, and it sounds like our neighbors below could use the help."

"You're a saint," you compliment, with a grateful smile. "So, ah. How do I get out?"

Laughing, Brandon escorts you to the front door and tells you to find him at his home when you're ready to leave in the evening. Tucking one hand into the pocket of Kells' too-big armored coat, you consider your options.

> Visit the orphanage. They raised you for much of your life and arranged your apprenticeship; it's only fair to say goodbye there first.
> Visit your master. He deserves to know you're seeking a different avenue for your future, and you want his advice.
> Visit the healer. She helped save your life, and every healer likes to know her patient is well.
> Look for gifts for your new companions.

> Visit your master. He deserves to know you're seeking a different avenue for your future, and you want his advice.
We can
> Look for gifts for your new companions.
before we go back down.

>>44010927
>Visit the orphanage. They raised you for much of your life and arranged your apprenticeship; it's only fair to say goodbye there first.
go in acting like a pirate, though. Afterwards, get changed.

Best to look presentable when doing final goodbyes.

>>44010927

> Visit your master. He deserves to know you're seeking a different avenue for your future, and you want his advice.

Maybe we can get some advice, too. Followed by the healer, then the orphanage. Save the best for last.

>>44010366
I don't. I know some QMs use one, but honestly if you held a gun to my face and demanded I get a Twitter I would take the time out of my life to consider the potential merits of dying right then and there. I already got forced to get a Facebook for professional reasons; I do not want or need Twitter in my life.

>>44010927
>> Visit the orphanage. They raised you for much of your life and arranged your apprenticeship; it's only fair to say goodbye there first.
>> Visit your master. He deserves to know you're seeking a different avenue for your future, and you want his advice.
>> Visit the healer. She helped save your life, and every healer likes to know her patient is well.
Will we have time for all three? I'd prefer the order orphanage-healer-master.

>>44010927
> Visit your master. He deserves to know you're seeking a different avenue for your future, and you want his advice.
> Visit the healer. She helped save your life, and every healer likes to know her patient is well.
> Look for gifts for your new companions.
Master first and healer if we got time.

>>44011175
>>44011188
Okay, moment. Can we presume that I'd prefer only one option get chosen unless I request that you select more than one?

The choices aren't an "only time for one" thing, usually, so much as "what you choose may affect what you'd like to do later, and I don't wanna lock in a route at the start only for shit to change based on the result of the first scene."

>>44010927
> Visit your master. He deserves to know you're seeking a different avenue for your future, and you want his advice.
You've probably known your master for longer than anyone on the list. He probably should hear about your situation from you.

>> Visit the orphanage. They raised you for much of your life and arranged your apprenticeship; it's only fair to say goodbye there first.

>>44011216
Sure, let's run with that.
> Visit the healer. She helped save your life, and every healer likes to know her patient is well.
May also have something for our breath, but I'm not holding my br- nevermind that.

May as well ask: what's your general policy on write-ins when they aren't specifically called for?

>>44011216
> Visit your master. He deserves to know you're seeking a different avenue for your future, and you want his advice.
This then. We probably knew him the longest.

>>44011350
I don't object, though they haven't had much traction thus far in the quest.

>>44010927
> Visit your master. He deserves to know you're seeking a different avenue for your future, and you want his advice.

Then the healer and orphanage if we have time. Gifts last.

> Visit your master. He deserves to know you're seeking a different avenue for your future, and you want his advice.

>>44011409
True enough. I'll keep suggesting alternate options, then. One will win eventually, and then I get to cackle.

> Visit your master. He deserves to know you're seeking a different avenue for your future, and you want his advice.

Votes called, writing.

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The forge, you decide easily, is your first destination. Harry has been like the father you never had, and he deserves to know that you're going to be...well, probably dying like an idiot, but such is life. Death. Re-death?

Fuck. Bri's not even here and she's driving you to distraction.

Like most smiths, Harry is a big, big man, made so by working his forge day in and day out. There's always something to make in Glen, the more because Harry can turn his hammer to the creation of weapons and armor in addition to the day-to-day needs of the village. As luck would have it, though, you catch him on a break; he sets his cup down in an instant the moment you enter the forge and claps a hand on your shoulder, smiling wide enough to sail a ship through.

"Nathan! M'boy, it's good to see you hale and hearty! Missy Brooks said not to put too much hope on your surviving the Dungeon, but I knew you'd be back. Sit! Sit, take off that coat, tell me all about it."

"Good to see you too, Harry," you say with a wide smile of your own. You shrug the armored coat over the back of a chair and sit heavily. You begin your tale at your death and revival and recount the events since, scarcely believing that it's been less than three days.

"You did the gods proud, boy," Harry compliments sincerely. "This necromancer girl sounds like quite the catch too."

"/Harry/," you chastise. "You know I don't -"

"No, I know you've got stupid ideas about what other people think, an' clearly I've failed you in not beating them out of your skull an' instead trusting you to grow out of 'em." Harry leans forward in his chair. "If anyone will understand, it'll be someone like her, y'know."

"I don't think you get to play matchmaker with a sheet of solid rock between me and you," you say at last.

"Aye, I don't, at that. Nathan, m'boy, y'done me proud. Your dear mother would be proud too, for all that your life isn't going the way you planned it. You're still welcome in my forge any time."

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>>44011866
"Might take you up on that. It'll be good to visit, when I can," you say.

"Y'might wanna take your things with you, when you go back down," Harry mentions. "Your clothes and such. They're still in your room, such as it is."

Ah, yes, your room. An extravagence, technically, though since it was the size and approximate comfort of a coffin you had a hard time being grateful. Still, Harry always respected it as sacred, your space and no other's.

"Good plan. In fact, I'm going to get changed."

When you emerge back in your own clothes - though you've kept the armored coat, as well as your weapons - Harry is once more working his forge. He nods at you and beckons you over.

"See me, before you head below. I'll have somethin' for you."

"You don't have to," you begin, but Harry shakes his head.

"When a boy becomes a man, he's supposed to be given something to make the occassion. So man up and take it, as I said to my cellmate on the first night."

You pause in absolute disbelief, and Harry erupts in howls of laughter that follow you outside of the forge. It was good to see him again. Maybe -

"Hey boys, look!" a mocking, familiar voice calls. "Whoreson Bookchild managed to fuck up /dying/."

Michael. Of. Fucking. Course.

> Remain calm.
> Snark back.
> WITNESS ME.

So man up and take it, as I said to my cellmate on the first night."

that made me crack up :D

> Remain calm.

>>44011959
>WITNESS ME! FOR I HAVE DIED AND NOW HAVE RISEN! WITH AXE AND HAND AND DEATH COURSING THROUGH MY VEINS I HAVE RESCUED A MADAME FAIR AND SLAIN A BEAST TO BEWARE!

>>44011959
>> Snark back.
You gonna be here rarely who why not burn some bridges. Wonder if we can make him lose his temper and then we can fight?

>>44011959
May as well earn that trip into the Dungeon

>>44011994
>WITNESS ME! FOR I HAVE DIED AND NOW HAVE RISEN! WITH AXE IN HAND AND DEATH COURSING THROUGH MY VEINS I HAVE RESCUED A MADAME FAIR AND SLAIN A BEAST TO BEWARE!

Seriously though, Snark back

>>44011959
>Snark back.
>WITNESS ME! FOR I HAVE DIED AND NOW HAVE RISEN! WITH AXE AND HAND AND DEATH COURSING THROUGH MY VEINS I HAVE RESCUED A MADAME FAIR AND SLAIN A BEAST TO BEWARE!
in complete deadpan

>>44012038
Anon, I'm gonna take the green thing as the vote. I need you to be aware of this and act accordingly.

>>44012059
Take it like this>>44012054

>>44011959
>Remain calm.
You are better than this.

>>44011959

> Remain calm.
> Snark back.

You wanna see if you can succeed where I failed?

>>44012059
Should have a pastebin or something that with descriptions of people and who they are, as our cast of characters expand. Plus also might inspire some art.

>>44012094
I mean we were supposed to die, and we didn't, so some celebration when we see our "friends" might be appropriate. Well I am assuming they are friends...

>>44011959
>> Snark back.
but calmly

>>44011959
>>44012054
complete deadpan is much better

>>44012144
I just get the feeling that this Michael fellow is a consumer of cocks. You know? If he wants a rise out of Nathan, he has another thing coming. Nathan fought a magical super croc. He can stand some mean words.

>>44011959
>> Remain calm.
>> Snark back.

Nothing this little idiot has to offer can possibly compare to the stuff we've a) been through and b) decided to put ourselves through in the immediate future. He's barely worth the time to roll our eyes at him.

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Calling the vote. Writing final update of the night, will leave vote open and resume in the morning. I'll be awake at around 7 AM EST, run until 9:20 AM EST or so, go to work until about 1:45 PM and then resume.

Pic related.

>>44012379
Sleep is for the weak, and the dead who have earned their eternal slumber. And you, Vox, are neither.

>>44012482
I wouldn't be surprised if Vox was dead, and putting off eternal slumber in favor of posting and setting records. All those times he says he's going to sleep are really him taking time to develop the story.

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You turn. You're not small, but Michael's bigger, and he's got James and Ash flanking him with ugly expressions on their faces. When you were a lot smaller, Michael preyed on you like he preyed on everyone else. Now that you're older, he does it in packs.

You raise your arms from your sides in a wide gesture. "Witness my glory," you intone in a completely flat voice. "For I have died and risen again, to rescue an angel and do battle with beasts beyond your comprehension, fouler even than your hideous face."

Ash snorts back a laugh and earns a cuff upside the head from his master. Idiot.

"You backtalkin' me, Whoreson?" Michael says in a low tone.

"Can't see how I could," you say with a shrug, dropping your hand down to the head of your hatchet in a casual gesture. "I was under the impression that you couldn't track sound from more than one direction."

"What I wanna know is," Michael says with a sneer, "why it is you're still a simpering little virgin."

That shouldn't hit a nerve. You know it shouldn't. Everyone you care about in life has explained to you how and why it shouldn't. But it does. You feel your grip tighten; beneath your feet, your shadow trembles with rage that your body keeps in check.

"Girls falling all over you at the festivals and the dances," Michael continues, knowing he's hit your weak point. "Some of the guys too, for that matter. And nothin'. Think your whore mother took your cock with her when she went off to die?"

"You're gonna want to shut the hell up," you warn in a low tone. You can hear a cracking, like ice, behind your eyes.

"It's a simple question, /Bookchild/," Michael sneers. "Why don't you get laid?"

> Walk away.
> Hit him.
> Show him.

>>44012482
Hey, that was said last thread too!

>>44012576
>Walk away. But be prepared for if he tries to lay a hand on you.

And that's the last update for the night. Will tally votes when I wake up. I'll be awake a few minutes to answer questions and/or discuss, but it won't be long so SPEAK QUICKLY IF YOU NEED SOMETHING NOW, otherwise I'll get to it...later...in the morning.

Fuck, is it already fucking past midnight?

>>44012638
>>Walk away. But be prepared for if he tries to lay a hand on you.
seconded

>>44012576
>Walk away.
undead aren't actually tougher than living folk

>>44012638
>>Walk away. But be prepared for if he tries to lay a hand on you.

Thirded.

He's not worth showing whatever it is. Bri, maybe. This guy? Just let him think he's all that.

>>44012576
>>Walk away. But be prepared for if he tries to lay a hand on you.
Yeah, he's just waiting for us shouting, crying or doing a headless attack so he can beat us up.

>>44012526
I swear to hell, I have no idea what I'm doing that's supposed to be unusual. MHQ guy said to run often in the early days of a quest, so...y'know, that's what I'm doing. I mean. Am I doing it wrong? I'm actually kinda getting worried here.

>>44012751
No, but it's fun to play up. I have fodder for the joke, so I have to use it.

>>44012576
Nvm, Michael is a confirmed dick. I wanted us to be friends.:(
> Walk away. but also >>44012638

If we wanna do a comeback.

>"Like you would know any better mate, coming from a guy who spends his days shirtless surrounded by hairy sweaty grunting men, letting them "bang" their "hammers" on your "anvil". Oh Sir, you sword is to long and hard~"

>>44012751
Nah, you are doing fine. Just be ready to set up a schedule to when and how long you'll normally run your quest when/if you chose to continue. Can't be doing 3-4 day back to back quest threads, every week. Maybe every 2 weeks to 3 weeks maybe if that is your thing. Most just do once a week. But yeah, alot of QMs do the marathon quest threads when starting a new quest.

>>44012576
Sorry, but your mother offered once and I didn't know if she was clean.
Mouth off, but let him escalate it.
>Walk away. But be prepared for if he tries to lay a hand on you.

>>44012751
Its not terrible, its just that its an easy source of humor and I question how you are able to do it and maintain sanity.

>>44012576

>Walk away. But be prepared for if he tries to lay a hand on you.

>>44012576
> Show him.

...is Nathan a eunuch? Or is this the same reason as the see-in-the-dark?

>>44012576
>> Show him.
All these years, Nathan has been hiding his power level. We should actually get to see it.

> beneath your feet, your shadow trembles with rage that your body keeps in check.
>You can hear a cracking, like ice, behind your eyes.

>>44015495

...fuck, Nate's a wendigo.

Or a werewolf. Or one'a them things,

>>44012576
>Show him

We Carrie now.

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>>44012576
> Show him.

>>44015619
Wendigo are the ice- associated Native American beasties. Usually you need to be a cannibal to become one, though.

Ice paired to shadows makes me think fae though. Rage and ice? That makes me think troll. Very much up in the air until later, though.

> Walk away. But be prepared for if he tries to lay a hand on you.

>>44016134
>not wanting to frighten off the bully once and for all

BEHOLD MY TRUE FORM AND DESPAIR

this kid is allowed to snap one time after a lifetime of torment, he can go back to being Jesus 200% of the time afterwards. He's not gonna be living in this town anymore anyway.

I mean, pic related. >>44012576

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>>44016159
I'm more worried about the fact that it's 'show him' and 'why haven't we gotten fucked yet', which could result in, well. Pic related again. (Probably not. But, y'know. 'Why are we flashing this dude' was my first though and I'm having trouble getting past that.)

> Engage in Real Talk. Why is he so concerned with your sexuality?

You're an adult and you've had your blush with danger. What about THAT guy's Danger-Virginity? :P

(Likely answer: It's an attack surface. Doesn't have to make sense as long as he can hurt you. But maybe this can lead somewhere.)

Meanwhile... I don't know what "Show him" entails, therefore I don't really wanna vote for it. You are NOT dropping your trousers in the middle of the street, Nathan.

On the other hand, things have to be dealt with here, and walking away is pretty weaksauce. That ain't gonna solve anything.

But on the gripping hand violence has high odds of Nathan killing at least one of those clowns, which may be going a bit far.

>>44016637
To be fair 'You're beneath my notice' isn't bad.

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Votes called.

Writing.

>>44017169
He hath returned!

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You clench your free fist, glaring hatefully at Michael. Years of this. An entire /life/ of this. It's so tempting to just answer his question once and for all.

But why should you?

The question, from your own mind, is so sudden that it's almost surprising, and Michael's haughty sneer gives you time to turn it over and look at it. Why should you do anything for this wretch? He'll live his entire life in Glen, bullying the weak and living in his own sloth and greed. One day he'll bully the wrong person, and die in disgrace, and answer to the gods for his worthlessness.

And you're better than that. Harry raised you to be better than that, and your new companions are certainly better than that. Bri's apologetic face flashes through your mind, the guilt in her eyes as plain as day when she killed you, and your fist opens gently.

"Spend your life trying to answer that question if you like," you murmur softly. "I'm done with you."

You turn and start to walk away, towards the village square. You hear Michael call your name, indignantly. James tries to tell him to drop it, but soon enough you hear heavy footsteps chasing you.

So be it. You can strike without hate.

You feel Michael's arm coming at you and whirl, grabbing him at the wrist. The arm-bar you pull him into is as smooth and clean as the militia could ever have wanted from you, and as he goes sailing face-first towards the dirt you bring your knee up into his elbow. There's a splintering crack of bone turning into too many pieces.

Michael hits the ground flat on his back with a sob of pain. You bend over him to look him in the eyes, feeling oddly...at peace. Angry, yes, but in control. This...animal...is finally, utterly, beneath you.

"See the healer as soon as you can," you advise in a low tone. "Or the arm might not set properly."

"Your eyes," Michael moans in pain and fear. "What happened to your eyes?"

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>>44017380
You lean down a little further and whisper to him, a quote from the holy texts that would have meaning if Michael ever read, or cared even a shred about other people.

"Mourn, O child of laughter," you intone, for him alone. His eyes widen as the shock of pain starts to set in. "And bow your head in ceaseless sorrow."

And then, you decide, it is over. You walk away with your hands in your pockets as Michael's lackeys attend upon him. It's a lovely day, and you have much to do.

> Go to the orphanage.
> Visit the healer.
> Self-realization or not, that was intense. Get a stiff drink.
> Look for gifts for your companions.

>>44017402
>Visit the healer

And maybe get some supplies from here we wouldn't normally be able to get down under.

> Self-realization or not, that was intense. Get a stiff drink.

>>44017402
> Go to the orphanage.
As much as I'd like to go to the healer, I'd not want to talk to her about this. Playing with the orphan kids should make Nathan feel better

>>44017402
>Visit the healer.

Calling the vote. Writing.

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The healer - Missy Brooks, though she prefers to be called by her surname - could do with knowing that you're doing better. Maybe more importantly, she's been a good friend to you, and deserves a goodbye. Time was you had a bit of a crush on her, actually.

You knock on the door to her house, and she sucks you into a tight hug that makes the heat rise in your face. Okay. Maybe 'time was' is the wrong expression, but, still.

"I thought you'd die down there," she admits, letting you go.

"Well, technically..."

You get a tail flick upside your ear. "Smartass. Come on in."

You step inside the familiar home; you spent a lot of time here recently, though you did before too. You and Brooks were both raised by the orphanage once upon a time, even if your lives went different directions.

"I've been doing some reading," the horned young woman says as she bustles back towards something cooking on her wood stove. From the smell, probably tinctures. "I've got good news. Depressing good news, but good news."

"/Depressing/ good news?" you ask curiously.

"Yeah. Your sickness? It had nothing to do with your pre-existing condition. You just sort of...came down with it, as far as any of the texts can tell. Your sort of people aren't especially vulnerable."

You mull that over. She's right - that is good news. But it's still depressing.

"The treatment our, ah, visitor used, has been used before to good effect. No recorded relapses. So you should be good, aside from whatever side effects there are from dying."

You rub your chest, absently. "Yeah, there's some of those. But it's better than being dead."

Brooks looks up with a wide smile. "I thought so too."

> "Missy, I've been meaning to say..."
> "I can't thank you enough for helping me, but I'm probably not coming back to Glen for awhile."
> "I don't suppose you've got spare supplies I can buy?"

>>44017715
>"Missy, I've been meaning to say..."

We just dunked on a childhood torment, let's knock out confronting another.

>>44017715
> "Missy, I've been meaning to say..."
Go for it. Might not be here a while.

>>44017715
> "Missy, I've been meaning to say..."
Why not, maybe next time Nathan dies he won't be so lucky and get another chance to do so.

But for real, asking about supplies for Lakehollow sounds good trading of specific local ingredients between the two.

>>44017715
>"Missy, I've been meaning to say..."

> "Missy, I've been meaning to say..."

No need worrying for ages about what she might have said, communication is good!

Votes called, writing final update before work.

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"Hey," you say softly. Who knows when you'll see her again? Brooks looks at you, sees the serious posture, and gives you her full attention. She looks so...caring. She's always cared, and that's what got your notice, when others saw the horns, or the tail, or the way her shadow doesn't move with her body.

"Listen, I...gods I'm bad at this. Missy, I've. The thing is." You sigh and steel yourself. "What I'm trying to say is, of all the people I didn't dance with or sneak around with growing up, I regret you the most."

She smiles, a little playfully. "That's painfully cliche, Nate."

"I /know/," you complain. She crosses the room slowly, and your heart pounds in your chest. You did it, you said the thing, what's she -

Her lips meet yours, slow and smoky and gentle, and you /melt/.

"You're not coming back, are you?" Brooks murmurs into your ear, with her arms around your shoulders.

"No," you admit, with considerably more regret than you were expecting. "But I couldn't say goodbye without...being honest with you."

"Hellfire, you went and became a Hero, didn't you?" Brooks kisses your cheek and grins.

"Everyone keeps using that word and I think I'm missing context here."

"You don't want to know. It's a compliment, Nathan." Her tail flicks, playfully. "You know, that door locks."

Oh. Ohhhh hellfire she's serious.

"But -"

"I'm not expecting anything from you, Nathan Bookchild," she murmurs. "Not that you'll stay, or promise your troth, or carry me in your heart forever. Offer is what it is, between friends who understand when others don't."

> ...It wouldn't be right.
> ...Lock the door (brief timeskip).
> ...There's someone else.

>>44017880
>...Lock the door (brief timeskip).
>.....you MAAAY have some work later, though. 'Cept they'll wait as long as they need to.

>>44017880
> ...Lock the door (brief timeskip).
We doing this

And that's my final update until around 1:45-2:00 PM EST or so. Thanks for the morning participation and expect more later, folks.

>>44017880
> ...Lock the door (brief timeskip).
Can't die a virgin.... again that is.

>>44017880
> ...Lock the door (brief timeskip).
Get some tail.

I WAS trying to get Bri to explain if he may have some trouble down there, but oh well.

>>44017917
NO PLEASE, NOT NOW, NOT LIKE THIS

>>44017931
look, you guys didn't back my write-in.

YOU ONLY HAVE YOURSELVES TO BLAME

>>44017880
> ...Lock the door (brief timeskip).

No time for spaghetti, Doctor Jones!

Two hours and change to vote call.

Must say, been surprised with this Nate section thus far. Is this something folks would like to do again sometime?

>>44019189
Sure, though I'd suggest that, since we're at the outset of the quest, either get nto the habit of doing it for short, semifrequent bits, or very rare, much longer ones.

Depending on just what the spoilery explanation for how time works between Bri's death and no-longer-death is, switching to Nate and/or Amy could be an interesting interlude should she die again.

>>44019189
I do not mind it at all, but times where characters develop on their own whether it be Bri, Amy, or Nate, while we control another member of the party is fine with me.

Boy is it gonna suck ass for Micheal when he comes to get his arm set just to discover the door locked and our sex noises coming through the door.

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>>44020126
Pffthahahaha.

Votes called to a landslide victory. I need to do some things real quickish, and then writin'.

>>44020904
Huwwy

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>>44017880
"You're sure?" you murmur, hating yourself /intensely/ for the extended protest.

"Nate," Brooks murmurs, "do I seem /unsure/?"

You lock the door behind you. "Also. Um. I may have broken Michael's arm."

"He have it coming?"

"Very."

"He can wait."

* * * *

"Open the door, demon skank! I'm injured! INJURED! I know you can hear me!"

* * * *

You curl up with Brooks on her small bed, beneath the blankets. She's warm, and comfortable, and hums quietly as she combs her fingers through your hair. On the far wall, you can see your shadows sitting down at the table, quietly holding hands.

"You like her?" Brooks asks, warmly.

"Who?"

"Your necromancer. Do you like her?"

Two hours ago - gods but what you'd /been missing all these years/ - you would have blushed at the question. Now you hum thoughtfully.

"I think it might be a bit early for that. But...I respect her. She's willing to suffer for others, to do the right thing. And she seems smart."

"You can tell Lakehallow that I'm in the market for blindkelp," Brooks murmurs, her tail wrapping around your wrist and squeezing it gently. "You have to go, don't you?"

"...I kinda do," you admit. "...Other people to see. Some things to do."

Brooks laughs, prettily. "Drop by any time, Nate."

> See the orphanage
> Report the fight to the militia, now that you've calmed way, /waaay/ down.
> Look for gifts for your companions.
> Write-in.

>>44022312
>See the orphanage

"What are you gonna do, exile me?" --quote from man exiled

>>44022348
He's not exiled right now. He's just staying in the Dungeon because he wants to!

It's not even a joke.
>>44022312
> See the orphanage
Gifts last.

>>44022452
I know, I was mostly referring to the option being to "report" the fight to the militia. Be funny as hell if it got kangaroo court'd up to a proper exile.

>>44022804
If that happens, I kinda wanna see him turn it back on them.

'You can't exile me! I'm exiling myself!'

Then he sticks his tongue out and goes back to the dungeon.

Nate probably wouldn't do that, though. Maybe we could get Amy to do something along those lines later...

>>44022312
>See the orphanage

Calling the vote. Sorry for the somewhat extended vote times today; real life has been hitting me harder than usual, with SURPRISE, CHORES etc.

>visit the orphanage

Gifts can come later

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>>44022312
You're not in a hurry to get up, though eventually Brooks realizes you're not going to leave on your own. The healer bites your shoulder ("Ow!") before sliding out of bed on her own and throwing your clothes at you. You dress and throw your coat back on over your weapons.

Your hand is on the door when Brooks coughs. "Shadow, Nate."

You look at the wall, where your shadow is still talking silently with hers, and sigh reluctantly.

"...She'll understand, if you show her," Brooks asserts softly. "And if she doesn't, fuck her anyway. You can always come home."

You whistle sharply, and your shadow returns to its proper place, once more matching the motion of your body. There is a faint sound behind your eyes as the fractures in them seal over, something you've felt but never seen for yourself.

"How do I look?" you ask.

"Like you just had the time of your life," she teases. "And human."

"I /am/ human."

"You know what I fucking mean, smartass. Do I have to bite you again?"

You shake your head and grin at her before slipping out the door, heading for the orphanage that you both once called home.

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>>44023589
The building is the same tall, friendly house it's always been. It's seen less use lately - an objectively good thing, really - but its mistress, Mrs. Applegrove, makes her living as a teacher too, offering the basics of reading, writing, spelling, and self-defense.

You remember the knife-fighting lessons with a wince and the echo of the orphanage's mistress snapping, "No one wins a knife-fight."

You knock before you enter and find the older woman behind her desk in the front room, writing in a book. She smiles warmly as you enter. You've been more distant, as you've become apprenticed and gotten older, but never less fond. She stands to give you a hug and then looks at your face.

"You're leaving," she says simply.

"Yeah," you agree.

"Then wait here. I have something for you. From your mother."

Wait. What?

Applegrove bustles away, leaving you with your heart pounding in your throat and the distinct impression that today is not supposed to have been as emotional as it's turning out to be. Your shadow flickers and shakes.

> Focus. Applegrove knows what's up but that's no reason to just let it all hang loose.
> Leave. You can't handle this right now. Maybe you can ask Amy or someone to come back for it later.
> Let it go. She'll understand, right?

>>44023589
>Write-In: Muse about how we are different from other people and why, in order to do some exposition for the voices in our head.

>>44023752
>Focus. Applegrove knows what's up but that's no reason to just let it all hang loose.

Today is a day of firsts and lasts.

>>44023752
>> Focus. Applegrove knows what's up but that's no reason to just let it all hang loose.

So, what the hell are we actually, if cancer was thought to be related its possible we're some form of regenerator, but the whole weird shadow thing suggests a bit more is going on, with the eyes suggesting that its definitely something controlled by will. I'm frankly not sure, could be a were creature, could be a fae-blooded person, could be a few things really.

>>44023752
>Focus. Applegrove knows what's up but that's no reason to just let it all hang loose.

>>44023862
Maybe something happened that would have turned us into a monster, but the process was interrupted? Maybe we got body-swapped with a shapeshifter, hence we're still human even if our body isn't?

>>44023752
Try to focus, but...
think sexy thoughts, think sexy-wait now the shadow is humping the walls. Hmm.

all in all, might be best to
> Let it go. She'll understand, right?

>>44023752
> Focus. Applegrove knows what's up but that's no reason to just let it all hang loose.

Called, writing.

>>44023862
Maybe we've got friends on the other side.

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>>44023752
You suck in a deep breath and let it out slowly. Applegrove wouldn't have said anything if it wasn't important. She knew...knows...how you feel about your mother. Obviously this is needful.

At length, your shadows stops shaking.

Mrs. Applegrove returns with a long, thin case, and a thick yellow envelope.

"When your mother left, she told me she may not be coming back, and entrusted me with your care," the old matron says gently. "She told me, when her boy became a man and left home to seek his fortune, to give you these."

You put the letter in your pocket; reading it now will ruin your calm. The case you open, and within is a gleaming saber, its blade shining mirror-bright. You pick it up and marvel at the balance of it, the easy fit of the hilt to your hand.

"Your mother paid a seer and a master smith to make this for you, with all that was left of her savings."

"I thought seers weren't accurate," you object, faintly.

"They're pretty good for things like height and hand size."

"...Y'know. I believe it."

"She needs a name," Applegrove prompts, gently.

> Write-in.

>>44024471
>"Home."

In our hearts, by our side and at hand, always.

>>44024471
>Verve

Verve is a noun that means enthusiasm, vigor, spirit, vivaciousness, liveliness, animation, etc. Kind of relates to the whole 'born again/new life' theme.
http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/verve?s=t

>>44024471
lumen

Shade's Edge, or maybe Night-Frost, relating to our unusual characteristics. I'm currently looking for a proper english to gaelic translator or some such, since we seem to lean towards a possible Unseelie heritage.

Nightbane

>>44024471
>Look at your reflection in the blade

>>44024471
Rebirth
because we came back from the dead

>>44024471
>Umbra

Y'know shadow theme

>>44024699
Dubh Siocán, or 'Black Frost' in Gaelic. I like the idea of the blade reflecting our 'rebirth' as well.

>>44024471
>Ray

>>44024699
>>44024850
First, that's in the wrong order.
Second, that's Irish Gaelic and the idea of dividing fairies into Seelie and Unseelie is Scottish.
Third, we don't have any solid evidence of Unseelie involvement.
Fourth, whatever Nathan's weirdness is he doesn't like drawing attention to it.

Alright folks. Calling. Choosing a suggestion based on Nathan's temperment and characterization thus far.

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>>44024471
You think, for a long moment. This is the only inheritance you'll ever get from your mother, the only gift she had to give besides your life and the forethought to give you to someone else to raise.

You flick your eyes down to your shadow. No. Not the only thing. But maybe the only one you wanted.

"Her name is Verve," you say firmly, and you feel the blade /writhe/. Your eyes go to it and see the metal flow like liquid, changing the shape of the blade. Depictions of blooming roses, long thorns dripping, etch themselves into the metal. The guard hums faintly and twines with faint vines of steel, from which flowers blossom in a silvery sheen.

The sword pulses warmly, acknowledging you, and then is still.

"Wraithsteel?" you say in amazement.

"It was a hell of a thing, keeping that sword nameless. It thirsted to be defined, to have purpose. Now she is yours. Keep her well."

You sheathe Verve and buckle its scabbard to your hip.

"I know you've your grudges with your mother," Mrs. Applegrove says gently. "But she loved you, the best she could. She wasn't an evil soul. Just a lost one."

"...Thank you, for doing this for her," you say honestly. You give the old matron a hug and wipe your eyes with the back of your hand. "Is there anything -"

You are interrupted by a pounding on the door, and the raised voice of your former commander, Militia Captain Miller.

"Nathan Bookchild, we know you're in there. Step on out, and let's have a chat."

"Got into it with Michael again, huh?" Applegrove says insightfully.

"He had it coming."

> Face the music calmly. You have right on your side.
> Defend your honor. How dare that coward stoop to this?
> Flee out the back door. FREEDOM! FREEEEEDOM!

>>44025355
>Face the music calmly. You have right on your side.

> Face the music calmly. You have right on your side.

>>44025355
>Face the music calmly. You have right on your side.
Character development is a wonderful thing. Too bad Michael must have missed the memo.

>>44025167
No need to get our knickers in a twist over it, gentle anon.
>>Face the music, but remind the Captain of Michael's previous bullshit.
He's obviously done this crap before, you're just the first to fight back, or at least the first to actually win. I'm also getting some vibes that this asshat might be from a wealthy family, and that's why he hasn't gotten his comeuppance before now.

>>44025355
>Face the music calmly. You have right on your side.
You know it.

Called, writing.

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"You keep well, okay?" you tell Applegrove. "I need to go out and...well, hopefully not get exiled to the Dungeon."

"Good plan. Where will you go, if this goes your way?"

"...The Dungeon."

Applegrove cuffs you upside the head and walks off, muttering darkly in exasperated tones. You suck in a breath and open the door.

Michael waits there, arm in a sling, with Captain Miller and three on-duty militia members on hand. Most village militias, you're given to understand, carry cudgels. Glen's come with hatchets, crossbows, bolts with different tips for different monsters and enough holy water to consecrate a small nation.

Glen is a community that believes in disaster preparedness.

"Can I help you, sir?" you say formally. You fold your hands behind your back and stand at easy attention.

"Michael here seems to think you attacked him. Care to comment?"

"Michael has a poor memory," you say calmly. "He approached me outside the forge, where I was visiting Harry. He, James, and Ash accosted me and attempted to provoke me into a confrontation. When I walked away, Michael attacked."

"...And you broke his arm?" Miller prompts.

"With a considerable lack of remorse, yes sir."

"He's a demon! Like that /whore/ he was /fucking/! She refused to treat me!"

You roll your eyes. "Obviously you managed to find her teacher just fine and get your arm treated. There a reason you needed Brooks?"

"Never you mind, /monster/," Michael spits. You return your gaze to Miller.

"When're you gonna admit that he's not going to change?" you ask quietly. "I know you don't agree with exile into the Dungeon. That's fine. Throw him out of town. Glen's a nice place. We don't need scum like him here."

Michael lunges for you, only to be halted by Miller's hand against his chest. The Captain looks at your hand, and /you/ look at your hand, and -

Verve's in it.

"...Okay, that's new," you say slowly. You re-sheathe the blade and adjust your coat back over it.

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>>44026007
"Nathan, I know you've had some difficulties lately. word around the town is that you died so dead you actually came back to life. Can you prove that you're not under the influence of that necromancer?"

You stare, feeling the righteous indignation building in your breast. "You wanna say that again, more clearly? Because it sounded to me like you were slandering my friend. And since when are people in Glen guilty until proven innocent?"

"People in Glen aren't necromancers," Miller says, folding his arms.

You clench your jaw and let a slow breath out through your nose.

> Defend Bri's character. Have him call Brooks to testify.
> Defend your character. Have him call Harry to testify.
> Show him what Michael's talking about.
> Submit to exile.

>>44026146
Ouch. As a player, I don't want Nathan to get exciled, so I wanna go with defending Nathan's character. As it is now, he can still freely move between the Dungeon and Glen. At the same time, fuck em for insinuating Bri is a shitter. What do I choose guys?

Also, wasn't their captain also revived by Bri?

>>44026007
Verve don't need no pansy

>Defend Bri's character. She JUST saved Lakehallow, call anyone from there to testify.
>But if it's such a problem, you can 'exile' me to the Dungeon. Although I'd prefer to buy some souveniers, first.

>>44026146
>> Defend Bri's character. Have him call Brooks to testify.

>>44026257
Seconding the bit about Lakehallow.
Don't just submit to exile.

>>44026146
> Defend Bri's character. Have him call Brooks to testify.

>>44026146
We smell distinctly better than your average victim of a necromancer, and all our fleshy bits are still attached, he can check if he'd like.

>>44026237
No, someone with (regular) Captain Marsh was, a soldier for Starfall rather than a militia member of Glen.

>>44026331
Okay, so then Captain Marsh can attest for Bri's character right?

>>44026146
>Defend Bri's character. Have him call Brooks to testify.

"People in Glen aren't necromancers, no, because you exiled the last one for saving someone's life. May as well do it twice, if that's what passes for 'fair' these days.."

>>44026146
I am with you brother, except the exile part >>44026257
>"Lately the word around town is Brianna saved Lakehallow."

>show him what Michael is talking about

It's about time for that to stop being a shame or weakness

>>44026146
>Defend Bri's character. Have him call Brooks to testify.
We're going back in, the only thing they can do is keep us from coming back up.
I'll miss the healer, though.

>>44026146
While I am mighty curious about just what kind of special Nathan is..
>Defend Bri's character, but call the new Lakewarden Ms. Slaughter. She's a person of authority now, and the village is in our debt.
Also loving how Verve jumped to Nathan's hand by instinct. IT'S ALIVE! AHAHAHA! Now to see what our necromancer thinks of the shiny new toy.

Votes called. I...am not unpleasantly surprised at anon's unity these last few votes. Still surprised, though.

>>44026800
It's the right thing to do, we did nothing wrong.

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You fold your arms in front of your chest. "If you had even the tiniest idea about the person you're impugning, you'd march right into the church and beg the gods' forgiveness. Brianna la Croix is as compassionate and giving a person as I'd ever want to meet. If you have questions about my treatment, bring Brooks here. She signed off on it."

"You were fucking that /whore/ less than an hour ago," Michael spits. In answer, you strip your leather glove from your left hand and throw it to the ground at Michael's feet.

"Pick it up, or apologize, you verminous cur," you murmur. Michael looks at the glove, then back to you, and takes a step back. His gaze goes to Miller, but the Captain simply arches an eyebrow.

Michael swallows. "I spoke hastily. I apologize."

Miller picks your glove up and hands it back to you, then turns to one of his men. "Get Brooks."

Minutes later, the healer - caught somewhere between amusement and irritation - is escorted to your small confrontation.

"Ms. Brooks, is it true that you asked the necromancer to treat Nathan's condition?" Miller asks, formally.

"It is," Brooks agrees. "I had no idea how to identify or treat his ailment. Once it /was/ identified, I had no power to treat it. Brianna offered of her own free will."

"Is there any chance that she could have suborned Nathan's mind to incite him to violence during this process?"

Brooks laughs. She laughs so hard she has to hold on to Miller's shoulder for support. She looks up at his face, sees that he's being completely serious, and laughs even louder. Michael glares darkly at her in...fuck, is that jealously?

Brooks wipes a tear from her eye and finds her breath somewhere. "Oh. No, Captain, not even a little. In point of fact, I'm fairly certain that saving Nathan cost her a sizeable chunk of her life span at absolutely no reward except making her vulnerable in a deadly environment. And even if she'd have been capable, you know my heritage. I'd've smelled the evil on her."

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>>44027012
"Brianna's responsible for re-establishing contact with Lakehallow," you add, "also at cost to, and risk of, her own life. She granted the dying wish of a noble man and pledged to overthrow a literal evil wizard. Frankly, only the fact that you're an enforcer of Glen's law kept me from challenging /you/ to that duel."

"They're plotting together," Michael accuses, desperately. "They're going to take over Glen!"

Now every eye is on Michael, and he shakes as he realizes he finally done fucked up.

"Y'know," Brooks says mildly, "if I'd known shooting down your hamfisted marriage proposal would go this far, I'd've kicked you into the Oubliette instead of being kind."

/Daaamn/.

Miller looks at you, then back to Michael. "I'm sorry for the inconvenience, Nathan. And for all it's worth, you have my apologies for presuming you were guilty in the first place."

"Just...just get him out of my sight, please," you say with a sigh. "I've only got a few hours left before I'm promised back, and I'd like to do some shopping, maybe have a drink at the Unlucky Bastard."

Miller flicks a coin at you, which you catch deftly. "First round's on me."

Miller and his men march Michael away, ignoring his protests. Brooks watches them in satisfaction, then glances at you. "I'm gone cooking things, for now. Want a friend around town? What're you getting, anyway?"

"Gifts. For my new friends, y'know? To celebrate our meeting."

"Very traditional of you," Brooks says with a thoughtful nod. "Want my advice?"

> Sure. Drink with me too?
> No, this is something I should do with myself.

And

> Get a beautiful gift for Bri (romantic)
> Get a beautiful gift for Bri (friendly)
> Get a practical gift for Bri

and

> Get a beautiful gift for Amy (romantic)
> Get a beautiful gift for Amy (friendly)
> Get a practical gift for Amy