[a / b / c / d / e / f / g / gif / h / hr / k / m / o / p / r / s / t / u / v / vg / w / wg] [i / ic] [r9k] [cm / hm / y] [3 / adv / an / cgl / ck / co / diy / fa / fit / hc / int / jp / lit / mlp / mu / n / po / pol / sci / soc / sp / tg / toy / trv / tv / vp / x] [rs] [status / ? / @] [Settings] [Home]
Board:  
Settings   Home
4chan
/qst/ - Quests


File: The Hedge.jpg (61 KB, 736x546)
61 KB
61 KB JPG
You're going home.

So much else is blurry in your mind, right now. Your name is out of your mind's eye, large swaths of your past are missing or locked away, where, exactly, you came from, but you know this for sure.

You're going home. Where your son is, and your mother, who's getting on in years and needs you to take care of her. Where your idiot dog with that goofy ear folded over is, where it smells like sage because Nikki is always burning sage, that's where you're going.

Home.

The smell of blood makes you look down before the pain does. Your arm has been cut by the Thorns you're moving through, and too-red blood - too dark, too rich, like velvet, and very much your blood - slathers the roots of the bush that sliced you. You push your way through, grateful that the pain isn't like the stinging, lingering lash of the Master, and step onto a narrow path mercifully free of Thorns. You look to your right and see the path gradually broadening, becoming clearer, and more fair.

You shudder. That's back the way you came. Back there, back to the Fairest of Lands. You can't go that way. You musn't go that way.
>>
File: Briarwolf.jpg (118 KB, 543x730)
118 KB
118 KB JPG
>>904794
As you stagger towards the narrower end of the path you can feel the blood running down your legs, pooling inside your battered boots. Your pants, all of spider's silk, are already matted and ruined with it, and they won't survive much longer, but you should - you have pants at home, right?

You're pretty sure home is where you keep your pants. And other clothes. You can't just go out naked in public to get dressed, can you?

You can't. It's coming back to you. You definitely cannot do that.

A sound from up ahead, vaguely canine, makes you peek around a curve in the path. You see a wounded briarwolf, its ankle twisted and mangled, trying to drag itself further along the path. Its claws and fangs are still sharp, and though pain has distracted it, the Hedge Beast's too-human eyes are still sharp and attentive.

Behind it you can see that the path has started to be littered with papers, peppered here and there with discarded needles and the odd, lonely street lamp, which stand uselessly in the bright day of the Hedge.

The signs of home. The Hedge starts to get like that as you get closer to the mortal world. Your world.

Earth.

But the briarwolf stands in your way.

You...

> Have the Ripper's Gift
> Trust in your Contracts of Darkness to sneak past
> Think you can bribe it with the goblin fruit in your pocket
> Veer off the path; the bite of the Thorns won't be as bad as getting mauled
>>
Welcome to Scarred by Thorns Quest, a Changeling: the Lost one-shot set in and around the semi-fictional city of New Avalon. This quest will feature rolling, but at the moment we're defining our protagonist with some of your choices. Once S/he's been more defined, a sheet will be posted to help you understand your capabilities and make further decisions.

> Please greentext your votes

This particular vote is not accepting write-ins.
>>
>>904833
> Have the Rippers gift
Now this is what I like to see.

Let's make sure the briarwolf can't inform others of our passing, permanently
>>
>>904833
> Think you can bribe it with the goblin fruit in your pocket
>>
>>904833
>Have the Ripper's Gift
I hope it means what I think it means.
>>
>>904840
> Think you can bribe it with the goblin fruit in your pocket
>>
>>904833
> Trust in your Contracts of Darkness to sneak past.

Shadowrun agogo!
>>
>>904840
>have the ripper's gift

Any other choice is foolhearty here in the thorns.
>>
>>904833
>Think you can bribe it with the goblin fruit in your pocket
>>
If this tie isn't broken by midnight I'ma just throw a die.
>>
>>904833
> Have the Ripper's Gift
>>
That works. Called, writing. Winner:

> Have the Ripper's Gift.
>>
no option to pull the thorn from the wounded creatures foot?
>>
File: 1461194527936.jpg (14 KB, 324x451)
14 KB
14 KB JPG
>>904973
It's likely a fey creature. Fuck ALL fey creatures.
>>
File: Razorhand.jpg (17 KB, 236x370)
17 KB
17 KB JPG
>>904833
This feels all too familiar to you. The smell of your own blood, the demanding hunger from days of not eating. The sight of something wounded and weak but still oh so very deadly.

Years of killing in the dark come flooding to the forefront of your mind. The Hedge shivers in delighted response, the limbs at the top of the Thorns moving in to block out the sunlight. The briarwolf's head snaps up, expecting an ambush.

So you rush it head-on while it's trying to pick itself up.

You don't have a knife, having lost the one Master gave you - afraid that he would track you through it, as well - but you do not need one. A little touch of Glamour, a whisper to yourself in alien rhyme, and your fingers remember the shape that Master gave them. Your right hand becomes a mess of segmented blades, blackened with soot and with grime, and you rake them across the briarwolf's belly as you slide beneath its reflexive claw swipe. It cries out in agony as you open up its flesh, your razor fingers skipping off of its ribs and leaving gouges in the bone.

You don't stay to fight. The briarwolf can't chase you with its life's blood pouring out into the dirt of the path, and its misery will attract bigger, hungrier predators soon. You flick the blood from your filthy blades and race down the path, past the street lamps that are starting to flicker on in response to the new darkness of the Hedge.

Kith and Seeming selected: You are a Razorhand Darkling.

You have to find a door. All doors lead in, but not all doors lead back out. You remember that, though you don't remember who told it to you, what other slave of the Master whispered the wisdom in the dark in a fearful voice against the day that you ever escaped the Labyrinth. You can use any door, any portal, fuck, you can use an arch between two trees to get into the Hedge.

Getting back out requires a door someone else has used, though.

Your memories are tugging at you, helping to guide you back Home. Nothing in the Hedge looks familiar, but that's because the Hedge changes. Plenty feels familiar. The path forks, and you know the one that will take you home, where you're going. Home. Home is, home is...

> An apartment, in the Juniper Building, just across the street from the home where you grew up. Not the nicest neighborhood, but...
> A two story, two-bedroom near the beach. Nikki'd been delighted to move in near the sea, even if it meant sharing a house with your mother
>>
>>904973
The goblin fruit option was essentially this. Briarwolves aren't nice, friendly, or even remotely moral, but they're not unrelentingly violent. Just, y'know, usually violent.
>>
>>905039
> An apartment, in the Juniper Building, just across the street from the home where you grew up. Not the nicest neighborhood, but...
The Modern American Middle Class
>>
>an apartment
>>
>>905039
>> A two story, two-bedroom near the beach. Nikki'd been delighted to move in near the sea, even if it meant sharing a house with your mother
>>
>>905039
> A two story, two-bedroom near the beach. Nikki'd been delighted to move in near the sea, even if it meant sharing a house with your mother.

Oh wait, is the MC male or female? It doesn't really matter much, but I'm curious.
>>
>>905125
no
>>
>>905039
>A two story, two-bedroom near the beach. Nikki'd been delighted to move in near the sea, even if it meant sharing a house with your mother.
>>
>>905039
>> An apartment, in the Juniper Building, just across the street from the home where you grew up. Not the nicest neighborhood, but...
>>
>>905051
>>905039
I'll change to the
> beach house
>>
>>905133
That does not answer my question.
>>
Called, writing.

Goddamn these ties.
>>
File: Darkling.png (112 KB, 771x500)
112 KB
112 KB PNG
>>905039
Home is the old family house, near the beach. Your family's owned the land since, well, since forever, and you've owned this house for three generations. You'd moved back home to help take care of your mother, after your father passed, and Nikki'd been delighted to move in to a seaside view.

Nikki loves the sea. So does your son. Your son...

Why can't you remember his name?

Gripped by a sudden and intense sense of urgency, you rush down the path that smells of the sharp sea breeze. You feel your hand shift back into flesh and blood again, losing its memory of how Master reshaped it, but that's fine. You can't hug your son with knives for fingers.

What in the hell is his name?

Desperate, you wrack your mind. You remember what you did for a living (medical research), you remember your favorite hobbies (horror movies, cooking, and reading, in that order), you remember what Nikki does (Wiccan priestess, co-owner of a shop downtown that caters to the urban witch), hell, you remember your mother's maiden name (Vickers), but you can't remember your own son's name.

Nailed to a tree on the side of the path is the door to a Port-A-Potty. Crying out in relief, you knock loudly on it, then throw it open, plunging through into -

Into the horrible sunlight. You almost jolt back into the Thorns. As it stands, the bright blue sky - unusually clear, for what tastes like autumn - is like a hammer against your eyes. You feel your magic recoil from it, retreating down where the hateful glare of the sun can't reach it.

The beach is full of people. Some of them look at you in concern, and you wave them off, muttering something you forget in the instant of it.

You can't stay to talk. You have to get home.

You stagger away from the crowd, blinking and squinting against the sun, and instinctively find a low-traffic neighborhood to move through. Home isn't far, and though you're hurt, and you're hungry, and you can't remember the last time you saw the sun and why is it so awful, you know everything will be better when you get home.

You have to get home and ask your son what his name is.

You're being followed, the shadows whisper, from their sewer grates and from beneath bushes, and you pick up your pace. You're dripping blood, easy prey for any kind of tracker, but there's nothing else you can do. There's supplies at home.

The shadows murmur encouragement to you, and you give them your best tired gratitude. You can't stop. You're too close.

You see it, in the distance. The front of the house faces away from the water, with a lovely deck and -

And a man, in the yard, a man made all of driftwood and razor blades. He's playing Frisbee with a boy of maybe ten, eleven years (your son was three, a cute little thing), right there in your front yard. You stop, in disbelief, and blink to make sure you're seeing it right.
>>
File: 1253168668950.jpg (319 KB, 625x925)
319 KB
319 KB JPG
>>905252
"Jesse!" Nikki's voice calls from inside, saying your name. You and the razor blade man look at the same time. "Movie's downloaded! Bring Caleb in with you!"

Caleb. Your son's name. But - that's -

"Coming Mom!" the boy calls back. He picks up the Frisbee and jogs towards the steps that lead up to the deck, heading inside with the razor blade man.

You take a step forward when a soft voice stops you. "You don't want to do that, cousin," she says, making you jolt and spin.

She's tall, this woman, with black eyes that have no sign of white or iris whatsoever. She smells like snow, sharp and clean, and has her hands in the pockets of her dress.

"Don't," she repeats, quietly. "You're only going to hurt them."

"That thing isn't me," you insist, pointing angrily at the house.

"They don't know that," the black-eyed woman tells you. "...You need a doctor, cousin. I can get one for you. Is this your first day back?"

You take a step back, wary. "What's it to you? How do I know I can trust you?"

"You don't," she answers, frankly. "But if you go in that house, that thing will kill you, and you'll never have your family back. Or you can come with me, and see a doctor."

> Finish going home
> Go with the woman
> Find another place to hide and take stock of your situation
>>
>>905271
> Go with the woman
I can't help but trust someone that smells like snow.

But plot to murder this doppelganger. Later, when the time is right
>>
>>905271
> Go with the woman
>>
>>905271
> Go with the woman.

Okay, I may have cheated a little by visiting the White Wolf Wiki. When the mystery box comes up (and it will), we need to take it.
>>
Go with the woman!
>>
>>905334
Vox only sees
> green
When it comes to votes friend
>>
>>905271
> Go with the woman
>>
Called, writing.
>>
File: Hospitality.jpg (264 KB, 612x396)
264 KB
264 KB JPG
>>905271
You're wary. This could be one of Master's tricks, or a thing from the Hedge. But she doesn't look like a hobgoblin, and you can't shake that smell of snow that comes from her, somehow both subtle and sharp. Her expression is gentle. Understanding, even.

The blood from your arms drip-drip-drips onto the sidewalk, leaving behind too-red stains on the concrete that spell out, without words, what you already know: you're dying.

"I..." you hesitate. "I do need a doctor," you agree, at last. "But I have some conditions."

"Name them," the black-eyed woman agrees.

"I want a knife," you tell her. She pulls her left hand from her pocket and, without a word, flips the (sheathed) switchblade on her hand, offering it to you hilt-first. You blink in surprise but take the weapon. You thumb the catch and note, with approval, that the knife is sharp and well-built. Then you put it away, tucking the blade back where it belongs.

"I will need that back when you are feeling more safe," the black-eyed woman says gently. "I have another knife, which I will be keeping. I know you'll understand, cousin."

"I do understand," you agree. "I want to know where I'm going."

"You're going to the Midway Clinic, through the back door in an alley we've paid good money to be hidden in the city records, to see Sally Sticks in a place where they won't tell the police how you got hurt or why," the black-eyed woman answers. "Sally is sworn to Autumn but a friend to all Courts and a servant of the public good. She will not burden you for her service, not on your homecoming day."

"I..." you pause. "How do you know you're safe with me?"

"I don't," comes the frank answer. "But if you don't mind, I'll make a call, and let people know who I'm with, and where I'm going, and that way I can feel a little safer knowing that if you kill me, I'll be avenged."

You nod. It makes sense. She takes something out of her pocket which you swear looks like a cell phone, except its screen is entirely too big. Sure enough, though, she makes a call on it.

"It's Moira," she says to the quiet, indistinct voice on the other side. "Listen, I found a new guy. Yeah. No, he's in a bad way, I'm taking him to see Sally. Darkling. No, I stopped him before he could cause an incident. There'll be a bit of a dustup about him showing up all bloody at the beach but nothing we can't pass off. He's here, yeah. The Rook? He's a little nervous, you know. Are you - no, I'm not questioning your orders, I am clarifying the situation. Yes. Mhm. If you insist, but it's on your head, do you hear me? I'm not going to leave him alone in the care of the Rook. Yes, that is me questioning orders, and if you want to push it we'll see what Raven has to say about it. That's what I thought. Please, enjoy your day."

The black-eyed woman - Moira? - jabs the screen with her thumb. "Cunt," she mutters.

"You didn't tell them where you were," you point out.
>>
File: Wizened.png (30 KB, 290x762)
30 KB
30 KB PNG
>>905446
"I know," Moira agrees. "You're doing very well, cousin. Do I need to distrust you?"

"No," you admit, at last. "Let's go."

Moira offers a hand, which you refuse politely, and walks alongside you. She puts her phone back in her pocket but leaves her hand there. It's likely near her other knife.

Yours would be, if you were her. Hell, your hand is still on the switchblade she gave you, there in your own pocket.

"You keep calling me that," you speak up, needing to focus on anything besides how miserable you feel. "Are we related?"

"Mystically," Moira admits. "Not by blood. We're Darklings. People of the shadows."

"You smell like snow," you say quietly.

"That's because I serve Winter. That's something I chose, not something I am."

You nod, and let yourself be led through the city. Moira stops in an alley, where she hauls a watertight bag out from beneath a pile of trash. From it she extracts a variety of clothes, and in minutes your wounds are concealed beneath track pants and a long-sleeved windbreaker, with a baseball cap over your dirty hair. Right now you could be just about any guy on the street, provided no one gets too close.

It's good enough for Moira, at least. She repacks the bag, seals it, and hides it beneath the trash. You go through a maze of alleyways and spaces between buildings, slipping through the urban maze by utilizing the forgotten areas that exist because this property or that one ends a bit past where the actual building does. Whenever a gate or door bars your way, Moira produces a ring of keys and opens the path, letting you observe the way ahead before you commit to entering it.

At length, you arrive at the clinic. Moira lets you in to the hidden alley by putting a key in a crack in the wall and turning; the secret door turns on well-oiled hinges. When you pass through you turn around and see the cleverly constructed facade and give it a low whistle. That's craftsmanship.

Moira gives the back door a series of precise, rapid-fire knocks in what you think is probably code. The door is opened, and you're ushered in by a male nurse who shows you, wordlessly, to an examination room before leaving.

Within a minute, the doctor arrives. She can only be Sally; she's a goblin thing, tall and hunched, with a body like she's been made of sticks poorly coated in stretched skin. Her fingers are long and dexterous, her eyes sharp and attentive, and dried leaves swirl in her wake as she starts to pace around you.

"Sally is mute," Moira says helpfully. "But trustworthy. This is a house of hospitality. No one will hurt you here."

You shrug off your shirt and let the doctor get to work.

"Listen," Moira says, as Sally starts to disinfect the cuts left by the Thorns. "You kind of came at a bad time. And a good time, in a sense, but also a bad time. Summer went and pissed off some...something like the thing that Kept you," she says carefully. "Your old master."
>>
File: Solstice.jpg (16 KB, 240x221)
16 KB
16 KB JPG
>>905479
You shiver, prompting the doctor to grip your shoulder and give you a hard glare. You give her a guilty look and try to relax.

You're going to need stitches on your arms and legs. You know it already, and she's getting out the supplies for it.

"The Freehold...I should start from the top," Moira decides. "Forgive me, cousin. I don't normally greet the new arrivals."

"Why greet me?" you ask.

"No one should be without a friendly face on their Homecoming," Moira answers, a hint of reproach in her voice. "...Anyway. People, we escape sometimes. From over there. From...the other place."

"The Fairest of Lands," you murmur.

"Yeah, that's the one," Moira agrees, making an odd sign across her chest. It's almost like a cross, but the motion is curved and it's missing the downstroke from the chest. "A few people every year, sometimes a lot of people. We band together to...to help out. To protect ourselves, to have each other's backs, to socialize, to understand, you know? We call those societies Freeholds. Ours is ruled by the four Seasonal Courts - Spring, Summer, Autumn, Winter. I'm Winter. You're currently Courtless. With me so far?"

You nod.

"This thing, she wants revenge on the Freehold. So we're gearing up for war. Gathering resources, making pre-emptive strikes, getting intelligence, that sort of thing. This is what Freeholds are /for/. So it's bad, because you've come home in the middle of a war and I know, trust me, I know that what you want to do is try to make sense of all of this and get back to your own life. But it's also good, because all of the Courts could use a pair of hands attached to a brain, and this is a really good chance to advance a lot faster than a new guy normally could."

"Assuming I want to be part of this Freehold of yours," you say, dubiously.

"Your family is here," Moira murmurs, and there's a pain in her voice that takes all the gentleness from it. "What kind of heartless bastard would you have to be, to leave them?"

You say nothing. She's right.

"Plus if you help, your Court - and the Freehold - can help you deal with the thing that's living your life," Moira continues, after a moment to collect herself. "So how about it? I can tell you about the jobs that need doing, or I can describe the Courts and you can try to pick one out based on how the idea sounds to you."

"How long am I stuck with what I pick?" you ask, dubiously.

"You don't even have to join up right away, honestly," Moira admits. "But even if you don't join the Court you help, you'll be earning their friendship. It can pay to think about what kind of friends you want to make."

"What about the Rook?"

"Fuck the Rook."

> Get the job list
> Get descriptions of the Courts
> Moira's superior(?) clearly wanted you to meet this Rook person. Insist.
>>
And to aid you in your decision, I present Jesse's character sheet. It indicates his current state after (largely handwaved...) medical treatment

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1j1acQdUzpxvWPNOJQ6OlX61dc4JLWJ5dmQcQ_EB18Lw/edit?usp=sharing

You'll have the chance to rest up before doing any, ah, heroics.
>>
>>905490
> Get the job list
Side quests and delicious world building? Sign me up
>>
>>905490
>Get descriptions of the Courts
Because knowing is half the battle.
>>
>>905490
>> Get descriptions of the Courts
>>
>>905490
> Get descriptions of the Courts
This might give us an idea of how each court is holding up. We don't want to get attached to one without knowing if it's three seconds away from imploding.
>>
As you likely surmised by now, I need to sleep for awhile. Votes remain open; I'll update in the morning.

Questions, comments, discussion, feedback, and criticisms remain welcome and appreciated.

Thank you all for reading and participating!

For those of you who may have missed it, this is the second one-shot in this setting. The first, King of New Avalon Quest, is here: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/710213/
>>
>>905490
>> Get descriptions of the Courts
>>
>>905490
>Get descriptions of the Courts
We need some time to process all of this.
>>
> Get descriptions of the Courts

Hmyeah, let's get an overview first before we commit to anything. A good nights rest (without horrible nightmares) would be nice too. But the odds of THAT seem fairly low in comparison.
>>
I'm alive. Called, writing. Looks like our winner is to determine this philosophically.

And give me an excuse to offer DELICIOUS WORLDBUILDING
>>
>>905490
You decide that Moira has a point. You can do a lot of different kinds of work, but if you're going to be making friends, and maybe thinking about joining an organization, then you ought to know what these people are like.

"I would like to hear more about the Courts," you tell Moira, while Sally removes your pants with a professional air and works on cleaning out the cuts there. It hurts, but it's like most pain - mild in comparison to Master's displeasure.

And you remember this pain. It's good, clean; you can hear the fizzing of the disinfectant as it chatters merrily to itself, dutiful and eager. It puts a little smile on your lips.

Moira gets more comfortable in her chair - she's near the open window, in easy leap-out-for-her-life distance. "Let's start with Winter, then, since I know it best. But first you need a bit of context. Each Court rules during its own season, and passes power to the next on the appropriate solstice or equinox. So right now, Raven - the Autumn King - is ruling, but come December, Misery Monroe rules."

"...Misery," you say flatly.

"Just trust me on this one. The point is, the transfer of power is peaceable, and while each Court rules, it has its own way on how to keep the Freehold safe. All of them do their jobs in all Seasons, but the hows, the whys, the wheres, the whens, those all change. In Winter, for instance, Summer might find itself escorting sensitive cargo, whereas in Summer its knights lead open attacks against the enemies of the Lost."

"Which is us," you hazard. "The Lost, that is."

"It's a poetic name," Moira agrees. She pauses when Sally starts to stitch you, then blinks in surprise when you don't flinch or otherwise show any pain. "...Anyway. Winter is called the Silent Arrow and the Onyx Court. We're the Court of Sorrow; our pact with Winter gives us power from, and power over, sorrow of all kinds. We're stealthy, quiet, and cunning. Winter courtiers stay safe by staying hidden in plain sight."

"...But you've been forthcoming," you point out.

Moira shrugs. "Do you want a dissertation on information security and the different kinds and classifications of data and its protections, or do you want to know about Winter?" You give her a guilty grin. "That's what I thought. Basically, Winter avoids trouble whenever it can. We'll teach you how to hide, how to evacuate safely, how to prepare for trouble and how to get out alive when no one else can or will. And if you're willing to go into trouble for the Court, well...Winter rewards you for what you put in. When you take on responsibilities, you get rewards. Winter's never going to not pay you, and never going to not pay you up front."

"What about your ideals?" you ask, glad to have something to focus on besides the pain.
>>
File: Spring Court Be Like.jpg (170 KB, 850x832)
170 KB
170 KB JPG
>>906316
"Those are...a bit harder to talk about," Moira admits. "But basically, we're in it to survive. We serve the public good because it helps everyone survive, and because we're not, you know, heartless. We're just good at acting like it. We see to our own safety first, the Freehold's second, and the mortal world third, and everyone knows that. The higher-ups would prefer you to be a stoic instead of a liar, you know? Being a liar just makes it harder to deal with the other Courts."

"Stoics aren't very personable," you point out.

"Which is why we have a lot of liars," Moira admits, with a guilty grin. "...Basically stay fast, stay smart, do the work you say you'll do, and Winter will help keep you safe and make sure you don't run out of work as long as you want it."

You nod. "Spring?"

"The Court of Desire, the Emerald Court, and the Antler Crown. Spring believes in the idea that you can abandon the pain of your past and make a new life for yourself, free from guilt and pain. It's a pretty idea, and sometimes they even manage it, but there's an awful lot of sorrow there for people who think they're over their shit. Though I suppose that's why there's a whole Court for it instead of everyone just doing it..."

You cough.

"Right," Moira says, snapping out of her contemplation. "Spring encourages its members to figure out what their desires are and fulfill them, and to fulfill or stoke the desires of others. They want you and everyone to be happy, which is hard to argue with, but their power structure is pretty chaotic and they can be kinda selfish and kinda hard to manage. Their queen, Ramona Rabbit - don't say it - is a strong monarch but she's also a diehard believer. In the Freehold, Spring Courtiers supplement the other Courts in their arenas of interest, and Spring itself also helps provide resources, social connections, and influence over the mortal world. They're very good at making friends."

"Magic?" you hazard.

Moira wobbles a hand. "Their Court does give them a mystic nudge, yes, but it's mostly that Spring helps teach you how to make friends again. They want you to have all the beautiful things you lost when the Others took you."

"So why aren't you Spring?" you ask, dubiously.

"...Some of us don't like the idea of just abandoning our past like nothing that matters is there," Moira answers in a hard voice. You let it drop.

"Summer?"
>>
File: Summer Court.png (234 KB, 693x700)
234 KB
234 KB PNG
>>906341
"They're assholes," Moira answers, making a face. She catches the look on yours and holds her hands up. "Alright, alright. Summer, the Court of Wrath, is called the Crimson Court and the Iron Spear. They're soldiers. More than soldiers, even, they believe in solving their problems directly and in using strength. They defend the Freehold and train, maintain, and field full-time warriors. If you think, gee, this sounds like an army, congratulations, it is one. They've got a fresh young king, Arthur, who's been reforming his Court ever since the last guy died and left it holding the bag."

You wince as Sally starts in on your left arm, suturing with patient dexterity. "He was a weak king?"

Moira shakes her head. "Too strong. He was bad at delegating and Summer didn't know what to do with itself when he died. Arthur and his advisers are making sure that doesn't happen. He's also been big on making Summer work closely with the other Courts, which is credit I'll give him. His majordomo is an Autumn courtier -"

"How does that work?" you interrupt, blinking.

"It just does, leave it. Anyway, she's Autumn, he's got some kind of semi-formal alliance with Ramona and she appointed her young buck as her legate to Summer, and he's even managing to stay civil with us, which is fucking amazing considering how much the two Courts hate each other."

"I...can see why?" you hazard. "If they like to fight and you prefer to hide..."

"There's not a lot of love lost, yeah." Moira rolls her eyes. "So basically, Summer is forthright, strong, and Takes Action. If that sounds like you, Arthur's hungry for soldiers. No accounting for taste but, y'know, we all need each other. Autumn?"

"Autumn," you agree.

Moira lets out a long breath. "Autumn is the Court of Fear, the Leaden Mirror, and the Ashen Court. They're witches."

"Rude," you comment.

"Literally, cousin."

Sally stops long enough to pop you on on the top of your head, like a naughty kid. You cringe.

"Autumn formalizes the study of the magic we gained in the other place," Moira continues. "They love magic. It's not their only tool, but it is the one they take as their specialty and their purpose. Autumn collects knowledge, forges new Contracts, and otherwise exploits the power we've all been given. They also terrify our enemies and sometimes our allies, using fear to keep people safe or sharp. They can...have...difficulties, at times. They go crazy a lot. And there's the other problem..."

"Tell me," you ask.

"They don't fully understand the Wyrd. No one does. And sometimes the things you don't understand blow up in your face, and people get hurt. They die, or worse," Moira explains, frankly. "That's part of why Autumn practices fear. A good Autumn Courtier is wise enough to be scared of themselves. The trouble is, a powerful Autumn Courtier and a good one are not even remotely the same idea."

"What's their king like?" you ask.
>>
File: Autumn Court.jpg (90 KB, 452x800)
90 KB
90 KB JPG
>>906383
"Old," Moira admits, frankly. "I don't even mean it as an insult. Raven has been a strong king, a wise king, a terrifying king, and a glorious king. His service to the Freehold is beyond compare and his majesty is beyond question or doubt, but he's also pushing a hundred and ten years old -" she pauses so you can sputter in disbelief - "and feeling it. His Court loves him, and they'd never act against him, not even the ones that covet his throne. But the moment he drops dead, there's going to be blood in the palace of dust, you mark my words. I just hope it doesn't happen during Autumn or we're all going to suffer for it."

"This is a lot to take in," you admit.

"I know. But they want me to take you to one of aforementioned assholes looking for Raven's throne, and I don't like the Rook. If you don't decide to go somewhere else soon - giving me a plausible excuse as to why I didn't take you to the Rook - you're going to end up with him and working for Autumn by default.There...is...a fifth option. A Courtless one."

"Not having a Court is a political faction?" you ask, confused.

"No, not having a Court is a default state of being. But there's the Margravate of the Brim, a militia that rejects the Courts and protects the borders of the Freehold - the Brim they take their name from. They're hard people to know, and hard people in general, and they despise the Courts, but they selflessly protect the Freehold. You'll earn some animosity, working for them, but they remember their friends. They don't have many to begin with."

"If I choose Autumn, were would you take me?" you ask. "Or send me, I suppose."

"Probably to Suzie," Moira mulls. "She works as a private investigator. She's one of our cousins too, a leechfinger, and she investigates unusual magical happenings. I can't imagine she'd turn down another pair of hands, and she doesn't have a side in the fight for Autumn's throne."

You need to make a choice.

> Work with Spring
> Work with Summer
> Work with Autumn (Suzie)
> Work with Winter
> Go see the Rook
> Meet the Margravate of the Brim
>>
>>906401
>Work for Winter
Having a guarantee that favors will be paid back on full will be a boon in the future, and of the lot they seem the most neutral at the moment.

Though some aspects of Spring might be interesting to look at later.
>>
>>906401
> Work with Winter

Does not mean we cant work with others at another time.

Plus, its anti plant, so if the place we came from is any way trying to get us, we can freeze the fuckers.
>>
>>906401
>Ask her to honestly tell you what she would do in your place (remember she may lie)
>Go see the Rook
> Meet the Margravate of the Brim
We've only got one persons opinions on the factions so far and while she seems nice she's also undoubtedly biased therefore we need more data and points of view before we should commit to a decision this important.
>>
>>906431
Please vote for only one option. Remember, this isn't a permanent decision for Jesse's life. However, this quest is meant for a shorter run and I'd like to be able to move the plot along.
>>
>>906431
Can't meet the whole town, anon. Time's a tickin'
>>
>>906401
>> Work with Winter
>>
>>906401
>Work with Winter
Payment to secure a foothold and we'll see from there.
>>
>>906401
>> Meet the Margravate of the Brim
>>
>>906401
>Meet the Margravate of the Brim
>>
Called, writing momentarily. Need to hit some dishes.
>>
>>906563
I was tempted to say we should meet with some of the guys from Summer, and I'm curious about the changes (and the potential consequences) caused by Arthur's decisions.
>>
File: 14123.png (573 KB, 1170x320)
573 KB
573 KB PNG
>>906401
"I...think I might fit best with Winter, in terms of their jobs and what I'm good at," you decide, as Sally is finishing her sutures. You gratefully accept the clean clothes that Moira had given you and get dressed gingerly.

"We end up in Winter and Autumn quite a bit," Moira admits. "Darklings, that is. We're good at what they do. Are you sure?"

"I...I'm sure," you agree. "When do I start?"

"After you catch some sleep and food, you look like hell," Moira tells you. She holds up a hand to silence your protest. "I don't care if you think you can go on or not, the Freehold is extending its hospitality to you and nothing is so urgent that we have to throw you into the grinder before we can be good hosts. So, here's what I'm going to do. I'm going to step outside and make a phone call while I have a smoke break. You're going to wait out front and get in the car that comes for you, while I am, of course, too distracted to stop you."

"...You've done this before." It's not a question.

"I really don't like the Rook," Moira says by way of explanation, shrugging her shoulders. "I'll catch you later." Your (fellow, evidently) darkling gives you a steadying smile before she leaves the room and slips out the back door again.

"Do you trust her?" you ask Sally. The doctor nods and offers her hand to help you off of your seat. You turn her down, as politely as you can, and slip off yourself. The jolt of pain through your legs is bracing.

You give Moira a minute before you let Sally escort you out the front door. There's a car waiting there, a somewhat dingy sedan being driven by a - human? Normal person? You don't need this question in your life right now.

He rolls the window on the passenger side down. "Moira said you needed a lift?"

You nod and limp to the car. You get in the back seat, buckle in, and let yourself be driven in silence. The man in the front seat adjusts the mirror so he can keep an eye on you, and you try not to think about the last time you were actually in a car. It feels so fast now that you can't believe you used to drive one yourself.

The car parks in the driveway of a three-story home. A sign up front proclaims it Lifewise Grief Counseling, Walk-Ins Welcome. You thank the driver, absently, and head up the steps and into the front door.

The young woman behind the reception desk has hair made of braided, lambent flames that flicker and flow slowly, and sad blue eyes that light up when she sees you. She moves around the desk and gives you a firm handshake that makes you stiffen in discomfort.

"Moira said you'd be coming," she murmurs. "We have a guest room done up. Do you have any food allergies?"

"I - no?"

"Good, good. We'll send a meal up. Please, rest. Take your ease. Someone will be in to see you after dark. For your comfort."

You nod, dimly, and let yourself be escorted upstairs.
>>
File: The Thorns.jpg (42 KB, 236x609)
42 KB
42 KB JPG
>>906877
Despite the hunger and the pain, you drift off to sleep only moments after you crawl into the bed and the receptionist closes the door behind you.

* * * *

It's dark, in your dreams. It's always dark. The darkness is your blessing and your curse; it's inside and outside, a part of you and apart from you, and it is more home to you now than the house on the beach.

You're not sure where you're going or what you're doing. The darkness smells like salt water and Autumn chill. You can feel sand beneath your feet without really being able to see it, but you know something else is here with you. Something, someone -

You pull up face-to-face with the razor blade man.

"Who are you?" he asks, incredulous.

"You first," you growl.

"Doctor Jesse Miller," the razor blade man answers firmly. "You...you're actually here, aren't you? In my dream."

"You're in my dream," you growl. "You -"

"Listen," the razor blade man interrupts, putting his hands on your shoulders (the blades dig in, without him really meaning to). "Listen, if you're really here, if I'm not going crazy, something is wrong. I need help. Something's wrong and it's coming for my family."

Your blood goes cold.

"Caleb won't stop drawing these pictures," the razor blade man continues, his metal-on-wood voice thick with fear. "His teachers are worried about him. I was worried about him too, until I saw it for myself."

"Saw what?" you whisper.

"Thorns," the razor blade man answers.

* * * *

A knock on the door jolts you, screaming in fury, to wakefulness. You have the switchblade out and moving through the air before you remember yourself and the events of the last few hours.

Thankfully, the person knocking stayed on the other side of the door, well out of reach of your reflexive attack. "It's alright, cousin," Moira says through the door. "It's okay. You're back in New Avalon."

Right. Right, you're - not home, exactly, but you're where you're from.

And Caleb is drawing Thorns.

> I have to go (abandon Moira's offer of work)
> Continue as you'd planned; maybe Winter can help if you get this done fast enough
>>
>>906929
> Continue as you'd planned; maybe Winter can help if you get this done fast enough
I am tempted to distrust this.. this, copy.

If possible, ask Moira if something can be done about Caleb. Well, ask what the price might be first.
>>
>>906929
>Continue as you'd planned; maybe Winter can help if you get this done fast enough
Tell Moira what just happened. Maybe Autumn can help with something like this?
>>
>>906929
>> Continue as you'd planned; maybe Winter can help if you get this done fast enough
>Moira, I need favours that I can trade and FAST. What do I need to do?
>>
Called, writing.
>>
File: Those That Remain.png (162 KB, 320x262)
162 KB
162 KB PNG
>>906929
It's coming back to you. The conversation in the clinic, your agreement to work with Winter. And - oh, right.

"Did you get in trouble?" you ask, blearily.

Moira laughs; the sound is oddly bright but, you think, genuine. "No, I didn't. The Rook will grumble but not much. He knows I don't like him, and in any event I made you my problem, which is almost as good as him having you."

"Thanks?"

"Feel free to be offended. New Lost can be...a handful. Shower's down the hall, along with some new clothes. I took some educated guesses about your sizes. Then we'll talk work, on the next floor down. Follow the scent of coffee."

Moira walks away, deliberately making noise so you know she's leaving. You smile, despite yourself. That's a nice touch, and you appreciate it.

You proceed to the shower. New clothes are hanging up for you, and you even remember how to adjust the water temperature properly. You've spent most of your life on Earth, after all, even if you...

You were gone for nearly eight years, weren't you? That's why Caleb is older. That's why you feel older. There was no such thing as regular, measured time in the Labyrinth, but you aged. People who got too slow died and had their possessions taken by the other rats scurrying in Master's maze.

You scrub down quickly, the realization making you feel in more of a hurry. In all of that time you were gone, Caleb has been raised by that thing, that razor blade man who introduces himself with your name. The faster you can earn those payments, the faster you can get this settled. Winter will understand about needing to keep your family safe.

The new clothes are nondescript - jeans, a polo shirt, and a jacket, the inside of which has many pockets. It comes with a blue-green baseball cap that reverses into a grey one. You put it on grey side out, then follow Moira's advice. The scent of coffee takes you into a small staff kitchen, where you find Moira and an older gentleman with a decidedly demonic look about him - red skin, pointed features, a black goatee and, as it turns out, a rich, many-layered voice that seems intent on making you question your sexuality.

"Welcome, Mister Jesse," the seemingly literal devil greets graciously. "I am Louis, known through the Freehold as Luscious Lou. My subordinate -" he gestures to Moira, and a faint flurry of snow passes between the two of them before vanishing into nothing - "tells me that you have a desire to make yourself useful in these trying times."

"Yes, sir," you agree, politely. Moira pulls out a stool for you and slides you a cup of creamed coffee, which you accept gratefully. You take a sip. "I understand that new arrivals usually take some time to themselves, but Moira says you could use more help than usual."
>>
File: Fairest.png (181 KB, 500x591)
181 KB
181 KB PNG
>>907433
"Moira is absolutely correct," Luscious Lou agrees. "As I am certain she intimated, but did not have the opportunity to state, Winter assigns its responsibilities based on a system of trust and merit. You, through no fault of your own, have not yet had a chance to earn this trust or merit, and certainly cannot be asked to bear our secrets or the burden of such trust. However," the devil raises a hand to arrest your incoming interruption. "This is not to say that we would turn away your aid or your friendship. King Raven is making much use of the Winter Court, and with good cause, and this means we are shorthanded in certain...internal roles."

"Winter's new recruits usually serve the Court as messengers," Moira explains. "With opportunities given to volunteer for further work. Those that volunteer catch the attention of a mentor, who provides further work in exchange for aiding in the advancement of their student. That's the relationship between Louis and I; he promotes me, and in exchange I serve him, to the benefit of both."

"I see," you agree, before taking another sip of your coffee. "And you have so many volunteers at the moment that you're short on message runners?"

"Precisely," Luscious Lou agrees. "And that, my good man, is where I would like you to come in. Winter stocks bolt-holes and safehouses of various levels of both secrecy and supply, known as our Winter Cottages. Some of these Cottages are Hollows in the Hedge, but many, perhaps even most, are here in the mortal world. In this current clime of conflict with the Others, we are pulling out of the Hedge-based Cottages and secreting their supplies elsewhere. If you are of a mind to, I would have you carry the sealed orders to one such Cottage and assist in its evacuation."

You shift on your stool, looking the devil in the eye. "Moira says that Winter pays."

"Miss Moira remains exemplary in her transmission of factual knowledge," Lou agrees, carefully.

"I want the Court to investigate my family," you tell him. "I believe that they are in danger."

"We are not in the habit of murdering fetches for their...other halves," Lou says warningly, a little frown on his sharp features, but he raises an eyebrow when you shake your head.

"Leave the razor blade man alone," you tell him, hazarding at what he means by 'fetch'. "He thinks they're in danger too."

"I see," Lou answers, thoughtfully. "...You are, potentially, asking more than the task is worth."

"I can owe you," you answer, without hesitation.

"It's his family, Louis," Moira adds, stressing the word.

"Very well. We can determine the relative worth of your work against the favor at a later time," Luscious Lou decides. "I will have this thing done for you, to the best of the Court's ability. Do you know the source of the danger?"

"My son, Caleb, will not stop drawing pictures that depict the Thorns," you tell him. The devil frowns, and nods.
>>
File: ODfEeFM.jpg (707 KB, 1950x1307)
707 KB
707 KB JPG
>>907466
"Dire indeed," he says in a solemn tone. "Moira, call in our favor with Ms. Suzanne and inform her of the situation. She should be happy to have her debt cleared."

"On it," Moira agrees, dropping down from her own stool and slipping from the room to make the call. Louis, for his part, sets a small backpack on the kitchen counter. From it he produces a thick envelope with a white wax seal, a stout survival knife, and two jars of what appears to be jam.

"The message, a weapon with which to defend yourself, and surgeonberry jam," the devil tells you. "Mind that you eat the entire jar."

"For what?" you ask, puzzled.

"Healing your hurts in the field, my good man. It is not called 'surgeonberry' idly. It may keep you alive when you would otherwise be dead."

You slip the jars into your jacket pockets and belt the knife to your side. You keep Moira's switchblade, for now. She never said when exactly you needed to return it.

"What, precisely, am I to do?" you ask, expecting to be bound into a pledge. Lou doesn't let you down.

"Do you, Jesse the darkling, of no particular Court, agree to bear this message to the Hollow Tree Cottage in the Hedge and deliver it, with its seal unbroken, to the keepers of that cottage, and further to aid said keepers in removing its valuables and relocating them into the mortal realm, or else, to the best of your ability and with mind given to your personal safety, determine the fate of the keepers in the event of their absence and provide such intelligence solely to the Winter Court?"

"I do," you answer formally.

"Then may your feet bear you swiftly, your hand strike true, and know that Winter will, to the best of its ability and knowledge, investigate and report, solely to you, the circumstances and threats surrounding your mortal family." You clasp hands with the devil, and feel a rush in your heartbeat as the Wyrd seals your oath.

You've gained the MESSENGER'S PLEDGE.

"I cannot spare a driver to convey you to the appropriate Hedge gate," Lou confesses, while you tuck the letter safely away. "And the streets of New Avalon are not safe at night. I leave your approach, and the fulfillment of your word, in your hands. May fate be kind to you, Jesse the darkling, of no particular Court."

> Move through the Hedge, seeking the cottage (Wyrd + Occult + 2 [hedge gate sense] at difficulty 10)
> Pick your way through the streets to the closer Hedge gate (Stealth at difficulty 12)
> Stop to try and harvest Glamour first

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1j1acQdUzpxvWPNOJQ6OlX61dc4JLWJ5dmQcQ_EB18Lw/edit?usp=sharing

Current health: 6/6
Current Glamour: 4/10

If you want to expend Glamour as part of a roll, include it in your vote. Most rolls will be 1d10+appropriate modifiers vs. a set difficulty; once the option is locked in, I will call for rolls. Best of first two rolls will be used for the calculations. Degrees of success and failure are relevant.
>>
>>907528
> Stop to try and harvest Glamour first
Refill the stocks before we go and be useful
>>
>>907528
>Stop to try and harvest glamour first
>>
>>907528
>Stop to try and harvest Glamour first
>>
>>907528
> Stop to try and harvest Glamour first.
>>
Well that's fairly conclusive. Called, writing.
>>
>>908165
All future reference, this is a subject I'm grappling with. Harvesting Glamour is a thing that requires active participation, generally speaking, and as a result should be both dramatically appropriate and, y'know, an actual decision to be made.

At the same time, quests are not tabletop, and shit will drag on forever, and ever, until the end of fucking time, if I make every trip to get Glamour a challenge in the longer-form quest.

So for this one I'm just gonna narrate it, mainly for The Worldbuilding, but if folks have thoughts on how to approach this problem I am all ears.
>>
File: Mien of the Baba Yaga.jpg (80 KB, 645x1024)
80 KB
80 KB JPG
>>907528
You're starved of Glamour, and you know, instinctively, that unchanged people can provide it to you. You remember the feeling, the rush of terror that meant you could survive just a few hours longer, back in the Labyrinth. When Master had brought in new pets that hadn't changed yet.

Lost in fragments of memory, you nod vaguely to Lou and head out the front door and onto the streets.

The night is misty and cold, and you zip up your jacket and tuck your hands into the pockets. You move quietly, as is your habit, with your eyes up and your nose perked. It's hard to smell anything over the sharp sea breeze but that's just because you're not used to it yet. You'll adapt.

You catch a woman walking across the street, but something stays your hand. A half-remembered string of words, in a solemn voice. Where had you heard them?

"Ultimately, if they don't transgress, they can't be punished."

This woman isn't doing anything. You turn your gaze and keep walking. You wish you could remember where you'd heard that. It sounds so, so correct. You're taking time away from the task with which you've been entrusted, but it's important that this be, that it be -

Correct.

Small, metallic sounds catch your ear, which you recognize distantly as the sound of picks in a lock. You move towards them, shrouded in the evening fog, and catch a pair of young men trying to pick the lock on a bicycle. Why they don't have bolt cutters is beyond you, but this is perfect.

You glide in from behind and press your knife into the small of one young man's back. He stiffens, providing a rush of terrified Glamour laced with guilt, and you breathe it in.

"Beg," you murmur.

The young man's friend - well, "friend" now - is already running. He breaks down sobbing, shaking in your grip, and you take pity on him. You let the boy go, though not without putting the toe of your boot into the back of his knee. He collapses back to the ground, covering his head in reflexive terror.

"What have we learned about stealing?" you demand, in a hiss.

"I won't, I won't! I'm sorry!"

"Good boy."

You slip into the fog, leaving your wailing victim behind you, and savor the taste of Glamour on your tongue before moving on.

You gain 4 Glamour

You tuck your knife back into your pocket and let the scent of the Thorns lead you to an already-extant Hedge gate. It's a garden gate, battered and locked, but the lock is a simple catch and running your knife through the crack between the gate and its frame flips it easily enough. You knock, letting the Glamour flow from you to open the way, and push the door open into the Thorns.

You expend 1 Glamour

It's a moonless night in the Thorns, and the path you're let onto from the garden gate is crowded by trees that block out the feeble starlight. Street lamps, marks of the mortal world, line the path, and you keep an eye on them as you move through.
>>
File: Privateer.png (698 KB, 911x653)
698 KB
698 KB PNG
>>908265
Something is wrong. You can scent blood on the air, and you pick up your pace. The path seems to widen for you, the Hedge tasting your urgency and responding in kind, and you soon come on what has to be the Hollow Tree Cottage.

Or, rather, its wreckage. Whatever happened here was swift, violent, and without pity. The hollow tree that housed the Cottage has been broken open at the front, and laid out in the dirt in front of it is the mangled corpse of an elfin man, still lightly dusted with snow. Carefully, you pick your way through the debris with your knife in hand (you don't quite remember drawing it). The inside has been tossed, with books, tables, and supplies flipped through and ransacked. The food hasn't been touched, but you can't find a single thing made of metal anywhere in here. You frown, until you hear the groan.

At first you think there's a survivor, but when you reach her it's quite obvious that there really is not. The young woman's legs are a good four feet from the rest of her body, and her life's blood is soaking its way into the floor.

That she's still alive now is beyond belief.

She croaks something, and you lean in closer, straining to hear her.

"Skeleton key," she manages, before she collapses, eyes wide and staring.

You look around, fear pounding in your chest. A trail of blood - maybe from something being dragged? - leads away from the Cottage.

> Search the area and report back; you don't have to risk your life (Perception against difficulty 12)
> Track the attackers (Perception against difficulty 11)

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1j1acQdUzpxvWPNOJQ6OlX61dc4JLWJ5dmQcQ_EB18Lw/edit?usp=sharing

Current health: 7/7
Current Glamour: 7/10
>>
>>908287
> Track the attackers
Get intel on the raiders, and fall back later if the threat appears to be too much to handle.

> Spend a point of Glamour
>>
>>908287
>Track the attackers (Perception against difficulty 11)
"We can determine the relative worth of your work against the favor at a later time"
perhaps we can even earn some credit here.
>>
>>908287
>Track the attackers (Perception against difficulty 11)
>>
>>908287
> Track the attackers (Perception against difficulty 11)
>>
File: Sleep.jpg (44 KB, 500x500)
44 KB
44 KB JPG
As you may have guessed, I need to be kill for awhile. Votes remain open.

Questions, comments, discussion, feedback (especially mechanical feedback) and criticisms remain, as always, welcome and appreciated.

Also if anyone has Changeling-appropriate images my Google-fu has failed me beyond measure.

Thank you all for reading and participating!
>>
>>908287
>Track the attackers (Perception against difficulty 11)
>>
>>908287
>> Track the attackers (Perception against difficulty 11)
>>
>>905330
Good
>>
File: 1427772790266.jpg (301 KB, 900x1200)
301 KB
301 KB JPG
>>908398
I have np idea what a Changling appropriate image actually is, so bear with me.
>>
>>908657
Well it's not inappropriate.

Votes called! Give me two dice at 1d10+6 (Perception + tracking specialty + Hedge Gate Sense + circumstance bonus); remember, I'm taking the best of the first two rolls.
>>
Rolled 10 + 6 (1d10 + 6)

>>908687
>>
>>908691
Hot damn.
>>
>>908691
Welp.

Writing.
>>
Rolled 7 + 6 (1d10 + 6)

>>908687
>>908691
I hardly think we have to roll more but what the heck.
>>
File: 1377804047996.png (704 KB, 600x1047)
704 KB
704 KB PNG
>>908687
So just like, spooky people, or...?
>>
File: Spoiler Image (235 KB, 900x1264)
235 KB
235 KB JPG
>>908287
CRITICAL SUCCESS

You close the dead woman's eyes; that's something you remember from before the madness and the pain. When you do, you notice something just beneath her collar. Gingerly, you lift her torso by the shoulder and find half a piece of paper - no, parchment - torn from a book.

"The Key of Death opens all locks and all portals; it respects no man's protections, and no trap or ward may foil it, for in it is the Lord's writ of passage..."

You tuck the paper into your breast pocket and move quickly. Whoever did this will be close, especially as burdened as they are, and you have a terrible, foreboding feeling about what it is they've stolen.

Though if you're right, what was it doing in a minor bolt-hole, insignificant enough for Winter to trust you with its location?

The drag marks eventually stop, but you're able to pick up on the faint impressions of boot prints in the hard dirt of the path, as well as the scent of drying blood. You move quickly, silently, and your diligence and speed are rewarded when you reach a circular clearing - a pause in the path, essentially - in which you see it.

The man-thing is tall, broad of shoulder, and clad in a curious sort of plate armor that seems to be made all of water. Minnows swim inside of it, darting to and fro and eating insects that dart to avoid them. Coiled at his side is a long, thick whip made of lashed-together spines.

The man has no head, not that it seems to be an obstacle for him. He holds up a small key in one hand, its grip a stylized skull set with flecks of sapphire for eyes, and drags a thick, bloodstained sack behind himself while he contemplates.

He doesn't seem to have noticed you.

> Leave and make your report
> Attack (melee against difficulty 7)
> Snatch-and-go (athletics against difficulty 12)

You have gained SURPRISE (+2 on your next roll)

Current health: 7/7
Current Glamour: 7/10

Remember that you can spend up to 1 Glamour per roll and to include any proposed expenditure in your vote.

Write-ins potentially welcome
>>
>>908814
Probably helps if I include the sheet:

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1j1acQdUzpxvWPNOJQ6OlX61dc4JLWJ5dmQcQ_EB18Lw/edit?usp=sharing

>>908723
Not exactly? To give you an idea, the following posts are used official art from the various supplements in the setting.

>>908287
>>908265
>>907466
>>907433
>>906929
>>906401
>>906383
>>906316
>>905490
>>905479
>>905446
>>905252
>>905039
>>904833

Most Changelings themselves are visibly near-human and recognizable if you squint as the people they used to be. Plant and especially thorn symbolism is common. Hobgoblins and other things of the Hedge can be pretty inhuman, and the True Fae run the gamut from 'idealized humans radiating power and majesty' to 'who gave Lovecraft acid and a copy of Sumerian religious texts', but the Lost themselves are just-off-human. A Beast is more likely to be a catgirl than a furry (I know, I know), an Elemental has traits of an element rather than overwhelming personal transformation, etc. Exceptions exist but if I want art of one of those exceptions it's depressingly easy to find.
>>
>>908814
>> Attack (melee against difficulty 7)
>>
>>908814
We could attack, but I feel that doing so without figuring out how to make it count might be unwise. Can we look for weak spots or some sort of but on it that looks important?

Really, it's more to disable than kill since I don't fancy our chances against something that probably soloed a winter bolthold. Can our knife even get through its armor?

Failing that, I say a snatch and grab might be best.

>Observe for weaknesses/vulnerabilities or general information.
>>
>>908814
>Attack (melee against difficulty 7)
Can we spend a glamour to make our knives able to cut through metal? Otherwise aim for joints and joins in the armor (does this count as a bigger opponent?)
Also try and take out the whip first if this does all go to hell we want to be able to run with our legs untangled.
>>
>>908874
Oh and if we do end up needing to run we should slash the bag and hope to cause a delay that way.
>>
>>908874
He is in fact larger. Glamour is expendable in the fashions described on your sheet. You can expend a point on the sneak attack or the snatch-and-go.
>>
>>908814
>> Snatch-and-go (athletics against difficulty 12)
>Spend Glamour
>>
>> Snatch-and-go (athletics against difficulty 12)
>Spend Glamour
>>
>>908814
>> Snatch-and-go (athletics against difficulty 12)
>>Spend Glamour
>>
>>908814
>snatch-and-glamour
Opponent is
-Armored
-Armed
-Likely to be more magical than us
-Used to murdering
-Clearly able to kill multiple opponents, and do so with extreme force
A head-on fight is likely a godawful idea even with surprise. Best bet is to grab the key and get the fuck out.
>>
File: 1432172751126.jpg (192 KB, 855x644)
192 KB
192 KB JPG
> MRW random anons, some of whom have never played Changeling, are already acting more Winter than any of my players who made Winter Courtiers.

Called, writing.

You expend 1 Glamour.

Roll me 2 dice at a total of 1d10+8. You lose SURPRISE after this roll.
>>
Rolled 8 + 8 (1d10 + 8)

>>908942
Are we bolting in the next post or the one after?
>>
>>908951
That would be telling.
>>
Rolled 1 (1d10)

>>908942
>>
>>908956
Forgot your modifier there, friend.
>>
>>908956
So, Vox, you, uh, don't do critfails, right?
>>
>>908955
Invoking Night’s Subtle Distractions if Thorns right now counts as night and outdoors, if it benefits us.
>>
>>908962
When I said 'best of two' I meant it. I'm not decided on critical failure but even if I decided to use it the system is slanted towards it not happening; you'd have to roll two ones.
>>
Rolled 2 + 8 (1d10 + 8)

>>908942
MASTA, NOT DA WHIP MASTA
>>
8 + 8 = 16; Success with Style

Writing.
>>
Cant remember, could you invoke 2 different contracts at the same time? If so we should remember to activate Nevertread(1Glam) and Night’s Subtle Distractions(hopefully 0Glam) once we ARE bolting.
>>
>>908995
In the base game, no. I haven't quite decided for the quest format yet but I'm leaning towards 'if you have the Glamour for it and the Clause itself isn't a kind of action'; that is, like, various attack or armor Contracts that take up your focus and effort might not be compatible with other such Contracts in a single action.

TL;DR I'm taking thoughts on the matter.
>>
>>908998
Also Night's has no duration so I'm assuming its upkeep based, if you do decide that we cant double activate we should start with Night's and when we can use Nevertread.
>>
>>909016
Well I dropped the ball on that one. It lasts for a fairly fuckoff amount of time though; the folks you tag with it get hit for an hour.

Lemme go edit that in. Aaand the others.
>>
>>908981
Grab the Ultimate Key, run away... hopefully the Headless Knight isn't faster than us or knows which Magic Door we want to run to...
>>
File: The Huntsman.jpg (132 KB, 624x613)
132 KB
132 KB JPG
>>908814
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Gz2GVlQkn4Q

You succeeded with style! You gain HEADSTART (+1 for this chase)


Your memory of the briarwolf (was that really only earlier today?) fresh in your mind, you draw your knife and free it from its sheath before tucking the sheath back into your pocket. Careful, silent steps move you into the clearing, closer and closer to the headless thing.

You slash the bag, making it rip loudly and spilling a scattering of metal objects - forks, coins, metal-rimmed plates, a letter opener, and more besides - onto the dirt. The man-thing turns just enough for you to snatch the key and leap back from its water-armored fist.

You turn and run, your heart pounding in your chest with adrenaline, fear, and fury. The inhuman thing lets out a screech behind you. There's a thunderous crack, but that terrible whip of spines falls just short of you, and the chase is on.

Or is it? You pause when you realize you're not hearing footfalls. Then the man-thing whistles, and you hear hooves from beyond the path, and the horrible cracking of breaking Thorns.

Fuck.

> Run flat-out; maybe you can beat it to the mortal world (Athletics against difficulty 12)
> Plunge off of the path, he'll never expect it (???; injured by the Thorns)
> Duck into the Hollow Tree Cottage and hide, then sneak away later (Stealth against difficulty 12)
> Your fear and the chase will attract something bigger and meaner soon. Run him into it (Occult against difficulty 9; risk complications)

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1j1acQdUzpxvWPNOJQ6OlX61dc4JLWJ5dmQcQ_EB18Lw/edit?usp=sharing

Current Health: 7/7
Current Glamour: 6/10
>>
>>909079
>Your fear and the chase will attract something bigger and meaner soon. Run him into it (Occult against difficulty 9; risk complications)

Let's run him into something and slip off in the confusion
>>
>>909079
>Your fear and the chase will attract something bigger and meaner soon. Run him into it (Occult against difficulty 9; risk complications)
>>
>>909079
>> Duck into the Hollow Tree Cottage and hide, then sneak away later (Stealth against difficulty 12)
>Invoke Night’s Subtle Distractions (For being Outdoors at Night if Thorns counts as such right now)
I have to sleep but someanon please invoke Nevertread on next post if this wins, it absolutely fucks tracking.
>>
>>909098
If this wins, wait untill we get both of them under Night’s Subtle Distractions
>>
>>909107

That and Nevertread for when we duck out of their way
>>
I must go be Gainfully Employed. This vote will remain open until approximately 1 AM EST.

Questions, comments, discussion, feedback, and criticisms remain welcome and appreciated.

Thank you all for reading and participating!
>>
>>909133

I know you called it a one shot but how long do you think the arc will last, because I like this a lot, never seen a changeling quest before
>>
>>909163
Essentially this will cover Jesse "coming home", whatever that ends up entailing. I'm running this as a brain break from Dungeon Life Quest, to help refine the mechanics I'm using (hence the requests for feedback thereupon) and to help flesh out, and familiarize my audience with, the setting before I run Cinderella Sanction.
>>
About five hours to call, give or take.
>>
>>909079
> Run flat-out; maybe you can beat it to the mortal world (Athletics against difficulty 12)
Even I know staying in enemy territory is a bad idea. The longer we're stuck in the Hedge, the harder it will be to leave. Need to get the fuck out now, while we still can.
>>
>>909079
>Your fear and the chase will attract something bigger and meaner soon. Run him into it (Occult against difficulty 9; risk complications)
>>
>>909079
> Run flat-out; maybe you can beat it to the mortal world (Athletics against difficulty 12)
>>
Called. Winner -

>Your fear and the chase will attract something bigger and meaner soon. Run him into it (Occult against difficulty 9; risk complications)

Roll me 2 dice at 1d10+3.
>>
Rolled 5 + 3 (1d10 + 3)

>>911124
Why fight the headless whip man directly when he can get coiled up with something else?
>>
Rolled 2 + 3 (1d10 + 3)

>>911124
Rolling
>>
Welp.

5 + 3 = 8; Success at consequence.

Writing.
>>
File: Concern.jpg (25 KB, 480x433)
25 KB
25 KB JPG
>>911160
As taken from DLQ
>>
>>911165
We probably get snagged by some Thorns, or maybe escape from the bad guy but run into a Briarwolf. Still a better alternative to being caught by the Headless Horseman fucker.
>>
>>909079
The sound of hoofbeats echoes in your memories, bringing back thoughts of Master and his steed. You won't be ridden down, and you won't try to hide; both are just waiting to earn Master's wrath. Or this thing's; you focus while you run, shaking off the memories that threaten to cloud your mind.

You aren't back in the Labyrinth, and there are things here worse than this rider. You hope.

You veer away from the remains of the Hollow Tree Cottage. The rider isn't expecting it, and you grin when you hear him pull his mount up. The thing screeches again, its voice a high-pitched whine, and turns to pick up your trail again.

You tuck the key into the inside pocket of your jacket and run for all your life is worth. The path, darkening further as the Hedge closes in around you, is lit now only by the vine-coated street lamps that tell you the mortal world is close.

One flickers on ahead of you, revealing a sharp ridge that splits the path. You pull up short, turning to see where the rider is, and manage to duck the lash of his whip just in time.

The crack you hear isn't stone. It's flesh. The ridge that splits the path gets up, shedding dirt from its angular features. In slow horror you turn your head and see the bleeding, wedge-like face of the beast. Its legs are devoid of claws, but its wide mouth is filled with fangs, and the lashing tail it uncoils is tipped with shards of glass.

"Surrender the key and I will spare your life from this beast," the rider offers in its high-pitched, whining voice. It cracks its whip into the air, threateningly. "Swiftly, slave!"

> Give the rider the key
> Attack the rider's mount; the scent of blood should put the beast into a frenzy (Melee against difficulty 9)
> Try to move past the beast and get the hell out of here (Athletics against difficulty 11)
> Destroy the key (???)
> Write-in?

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1j1acQdUzpxvWPNOJQ6OlX61dc4JLWJ5dmQcQ_EB18Lw/edit?usp=sharing

You lose HEAD START.

Current Health: 7/7
Current Glamour: 6/10

Sorry about the long write time, work kicked my ass. I'ma get some sleep now.
>>
Rolled 8 (1d10)

>>911329
>Attack the rider's mount; the scent of blood should put the beast into a frenzy (Melee against difficulty 9)
Don't know what the modifiers are.
>>
>>911339
Generally the rolls are called for once the votes are handled, friend, and Vox will give us the necessary roll. The link in that post has the character sheet, which should be readable enough. We're rested, so Melee should be 1d10+4 (plus an extra 1 with knives), rolled twice? Your roll wasn't called for and will not be counted against us.

>>911329
> Write-in
> Feed the beast the key
>>
>>911329
>Attack the rider's mount; the scent of blood should put the beast into a frenzy (Melee against difficulty 9)
>>
>>911329
>> Attack the rider's mount; the scent of blood should put the beast into a frenzy (Melee against difficulty 9)
>>
>>911329
MYSTERY BOX OPTION! Seconding this; >>911344
> Destroy the key by throwing it into the beasts mouth. Then, fucking book it like hell is nipping at you heels (because it pretty much is).

I'm am damn certain that this thing is no good, and none of the Winter Court can blame a freshly free Changeling from getting rid of magical shit that already cost the lives of their kin. And we're keeping it out of the hands of the Fae, who probably have some bullshit prophecy concerning it.
>>
>>911344
>>911361
Optional: Magically enforce the command-promise first.
>>
>>911329
>> Attack the rider's mount; the scent of blood should put the beast into a frenzy (Melee against difficulty 9)
>>
>>911329
>> Attack the rider's mount; the scent of blood should put the beast into a frenzy (Melee against difficulty 9)
>>
>>911329
>> Attack the rider's mount; the scent of blood should put the beast into a frenzy (Melee against difficulty 9)
>>
>>911329
>> Attack the rider's mount; the scent of blood should put the beast into a frenzy (Melee against difficulty 9)
>>
Well that's pretty clear.

Give me 2 dice at 1d10+7.
>>
Rolled 1 + 7 (1d10 + 7)

>>911887
>>
>>911897
And so my luck runs out...
>>
Rolled 10 (1d10)

>>911887
>>
>>911903
Dude...good role, you forgot the +7 though.
>>
>>911906
I hope it still counts
>>
>>911903
>>911906
>>911910
I didn't count it last time and I traditionally have not. I'm not gonna count it here; we can revisit this topic later, but I already set it down for this run.

I'm still in need of a die. 1d10+7
>>
>>911910
Vox wanted two roles, I am sure you made up for this guy>>911897
>>
>>911931
You should check the ID's on those posts
>>
>>911930
Oh come on Vox, he rolled>>911903
how come only missing the plus 7 makes it not count? It not like we don't know what it would be.
>>
>>911934
Didn't notice till now, the numbers and colors blended in to much.
>>
Rolled 9 + 7 (1d10 + 7)

>>
>>911952
Thank you.
>>
>>911952
Hot damn, good work.
>>
9 + 7 = 16; Success with Style.

The TL;DR on melee attacks is additional successes get piled onto your weapon's base damage. Most people don't have an awful lot of health, as you noticed with Jesse himself here, so getting nailed for 1-5 from a knife shot is pretty damn bad. Wound penalties can cause complications to either side (though, notably, Jesse doesn't suffer them) and form weaknesses that you can prey on later.

So in this case you've done 3 damage (base difficulty + 1 for every 3 you blew over) and also accomplished your objective.


Writing.
>>
>>911986
>also accomplished your objective.
Exelent and we can use Night's on next post followed by Nevertread in the one after.
>>
>>911329
The rider has no face, but you can feel the sneering expression on the one that isn't there, the arrogance. He thinks he has weak prey cornered.

One day, your enemies will learn to expect you to lunge head-on from a position of weakness, but today is not that day. You dart forward, slashing once, twice, on either side of the rider's mount. The long gouges in its pitch-black neck rip like cloth rather than flesh, and the blood that spills out in gouts glows brightly while the witchsteed rears and shrieks in pain.

You jab the knife into its chest, opening up yet another hole, before you leap away, diving for cover at the base of the Thorns. You feel the air parting just above you; the beast is swinging its heavy tail, and you wince when you hear the oddly papery sound of the rider's steed being struck. Its bones crumple, folding its side in and throwing it into the Thorns.

The rider's watery armor protects him when he hits the dirt of the path, and he rolls away from the bite of the beast. The headless horseman rises into a savage uppercut, catching the beast in its lower jaw. The monster's tail comes up, and it flicks shards of razor-sharp glass from the tip of its tail, forcing the rider to give ground to dodge.

You know the deal you murmur to the darkness around you.

All three of them? the shadows ask. Very well.

The shadows swirl at the feet of the three combatants, thickening their perceptions. The darkness is deceptive, but the darkness is also your friend.

You rise to a half-crouch, only to hit the dirt immediately when that glass-tipped tail lashes right where your head just was. You're not out of this yet.

> Try to crawl away (Stealth against difficulty 10)
> Just wait it out. You can fight down the survivor, right?
> Attack the rider; his corpse will occupy the beast while you get away (Melee against difficulty 10; suffer a counterattack unless you succeed against difficulty 13)
> Attack the beast; the rider will be too weak to chase you (Melee against difficulty 10; risk getting trampled or thrown against the Thorns)
> Write-in?
>>
>>912181
And I forgot the breakdown.

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1j1acQdUzpxvWPNOJQ6OlX61dc4JLWJ5dmQcQ_EB18Lw/edit?usp=sharing

You activate NIGHT'S SUBTLE DISTRACTIONS via its CATCH

Current Health: 7/7
Current Glamour: 6/10
>>
>>912181
> Try to crawl away (Stealth against difficulty 10)
>>
>>912181
>> Try to crawl away (Stealth against difficulty 10)
>>
>>912181
>> Try to crawl away (Stealth against difficulty 10)
I'll take a Nevertread for 1Glam please!
>>
>>912181
>Try to crawl away (Stealth against difficulty 10)

Also go nevertread
>>
>>912181
>> Try to crawl away (Stealth against difficulty 10)
>>
>>912181
>> Try to crawl away (Stealth against difficulty 10)
> Activate Nevertread for 1 Glamour

Slipping away in the confusion, never to be found again? Yeah, that's pretty much what we're made for.
>>
>>912181
>> Attack the beast; the rider will be too weak to chase you (Melee against difficulty 10; risk getting trampled or thrown against the Thorns)
>>
Called. Winner:

> Try to crawl away (Stealth against difficulty 10)

You activate Nevertread, spending 1 Glamour

Give me two dice at 1d10+6 (+2 bonus from your enemies being DISTRACTED).
>>
Rolled 2 + 6 (1d10 + 6)

>>912370
I assume the bonus is already incorporated.
>>
>>912390
Correct. Otherwise you'd be swinging at +4.
>>
Rolled 2 + 6 (1d10 + 6)

>>912370
>>
>>912390
>>912404
aww geez, is this bad?
>>
>>912390
>>912404
WAMP WAMP
>>
>>912390
>>912404
Two times the same number counts as successful, I hope.
>>
File: 1445142648339.gif (245 KB, 400x200)
245 KB
245 KB GIF
>>912406
2 + 6 = 8; Success at Consequence.

Writing.
>>
>>912466
Eh, the great rolls had to end some time.

At least it isn't a critical fail.
>>
File: 087y89.jpg (127 KB, 600x831)
127 KB
127 KB JPG
>>912181
You crawl. You don't need to be in the sightline of your enemies, not while they're so merrily busy with one another. You offer up a shard of the fear you gathered earlier, glimmering with the edges of guilt, to Smoke, and it honors your agreement. You look behind yourself and smile sideways when you see the lack of drag marks left behind.

You try your best not to get caught up in watching the battle, but the sounds you hear from the struggle ring in your ears; the harsh crack of the whip, the oddly bell-like scrape of teeth against the rider's watery armor. The beast growls breathlessly, its massive lungs heaving like bellows, and the two part with a flurry of fleshy impacts and the crack of breaking bone.

Then the tail gets you, high on the shoulder. The shards of jagged glass tear open your skin, making you cry out in shock and surprise as you're hit by pure blind luck. The beast yanks its tail free in irritation, and you stagger up, moving to get the hell out of the combat zone.

You suffer 3 points of damage.

"Coward!" the rider shrieks. "Drown him! Bring the key to the Lady!"

You turn your head and see the watery armor flow off of the rider. The beast lunges, crushing the man-thing's torso between its teeth, but the headless horseman refuses to die. It circles the monster's throat with its whip, pulling with inhuman might to choke its enemy.

The armor, freed from its wearer, begins to sprint after you. God, does it ever end?

You take off running. You need distance from the battlefield, regardless of who wins. The armor isn't as fast as you are, but you're willing to bet it won't get tired, and you're already starting to feel the burn of exertion.

> Make for the mortal world (Athletics against difficulty 8)
> Find a spot to stand and fight (Perception against difficulty 8)

AND

> Eat a jar of the surgeonberry jam while you run (-1 on the roll)
> Do not

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1j1acQdUzpxvWPNOJQ6OlX61dc4JLWJ5dmQcQ_EB18Lw/edit?usp=sharing

Current Health: 4/7
Current Glamour: 5/10
>>
>>913031
>Make for the mortal world (Athletics against difficulty 8)

We're just a tad too squishy for a stand and fight option

>Eat a jar of the surgeonberry jam while you run (-1 on the roll)
>>
>>913031
> Make for the mortal world (Athletics against difficulty 8)
> Eat a jar of the surgeonberry jam while you run (-1 on the roll)
>>
I gotta go be Gainfully Employed; I'll be back just after 1 AM. Short shift today, and votes, obviously, remain open. I'll address questions from my phone if I can.

Questions, comments, discussion, feedback, and criticisms remain welcome and appreciated.

Thank you all for reading and participating!
>>
>>913031
>> Make for the mortal world (Athletics against difficulty 8)

Out, out, out.

> Eat a jar of the surgeonberry jam while you run (-1 on the roll)

There's basically no chance we won't run into /something/ else unpleasant and/or frustrating before we have a chance to really catch our breath.
>>
>>913031
>> Make for the mortal world (Athletics against difficulty 8)
> Eat a jar of the surgeonberry jam while you run (-1 on the roll)
>>
>>913031
>Eat the mortal world (Athletics against difficulty 8)
> Make a jar of the surgeonberry jam while you run (-1 on the roll)
>>
>>913031
>Run for the mortal world (Athletics against difficulty 8)
> Eat a jar of the surgeonberry jam while you run (-1 on the roll)
>>
You should run Mummy some time.
>>
File: Spoiler Image (14 KB, 400x400)
14 KB
14 KB PNG
>>913771
>>
>>913859
...What.
>>
>>913859
I feel like I am missing some context.
>>
File: tegaki.png (18 KB, 400x400)
18 KB
18 KB PNG
>>
>>913821
That would require expertise and experience with Mummy which, sadly, I lack entirely.
>>
>>914023
Niiiice. Thank you anon.
>>
>>913031
>Run for the mortal world (Athletics against difficulty 8)
> Eat a jar of the surgeonberry jam while you run (-1 on the roll)
The headless whipman likely did not murder the Winters just because: someone likely sent them for this key.

Our primary objective is to ensure that this key is returned safely. Only then can we inform Winter of what happened and from there we can try and track the source of this strike.

Good thing we kept the lasher alive: if he survives his brawl, that's a definite starting point for the later investigation. He'll probably be more than a little hurt as well, though likely still dangerous.
>>
Home. Gonna call and write after I get the chance to make my dinner and eat it. You've got about twenty minutes.
>>
>>913031
> Find a spot to stand and fight (Perception against difficulty 8)
> Shadowy Guile (1 Glamour, +1 on rolls based on stealth, deception, or perception)
> Eat a jar of the surgeonberry jam while you run (-1 on the roll)
>>
Called. Winner:

>Run for the mortal world (Athletics against difficulty 8)

And

> Eat a jar of the surgeonberry jam while you run (-1 on the roll)

Roll me 2 dice at 1d10+4.
>>
Rolled 1 + 4 (1d10 + 4)

>>914941
gl hf
>>
Rolled 3 + 4 (1d10 + 4)

>>914941
You know what Jesse needs right about now?

Peanut butter
>>
Rolled 7 + 4 (1d10 + 4)

>>914941
>>
Someone roll another one, hopefully high enough.
>>
>>914950
Welp.

Writing.
>>
File: Spoiler Image (265 KB, 969x650)
265 KB
265 KB JPG
>>913031
You fumble a jar out of your pocket while you run. Opening it on the move was clearly not a consideration for whoever canned this thing, but you manage to twist off the lid and throw it behind you. Some insane part of your mind feels guilty for littering; the rest of you is eating as fast as possible. You have yet to encounter a healing fruit that doesn't taste awful (not that you've had many) and surgeonberry seems to be no exception; even the sweetened preserves taste entirely too much like curdled blood.

Still, the foul taste and the sting in your shoulder means it's working. The jam pushes shards of glass from your wound, and they drop to the ground behind you with faint tinkling sounds as they break the rest of the way.

It's taking too long to find a way out. The watery armor is gaining ground on you. Up ahead, gleaming in the hesitant light of a streetlamp, you see a window handing from a branch of the Thorns - good enough! You knock loudly on it, then wrench the window open and jump through.

You expend 1 Glamour

The window lets you out.

Into open air.

A human would resign themselves to death at this point. You turn in the air, getting your feet under you, and see salvation beneath you - you've entered out onto what seems to be the property of someone affluent, and you're hurtling as fast as gravity can take you towards their trampoline. You hit the toy feet-first, feel it give beneath your body weight, and fear that it might tear and dump you onto the ground anyway when it snaps back and launches you back into the air. You go sailing over the wrought iron fence that protects the yard and land with a painful roll that, while leaving you soaked and bruised, at least doesn't break both of your legs.

The foggy night is wet and cold, and this is not yet finished. You hear the trampoline creak as the armor hits it, and then the wet thud of it landing ahead of you, its fish-filled form obscured by the mist.

> Keep running (Opposed Athletics)
> Tackle it into the fence (Opposed melee)
> Find a place to hide (Opposed Stealth)
> Smash the key (???)

You heal 2 health

You lose RESTED


https://docs.google.com/document/d/1j1acQdUzpxvWPNOJQ6OlX61dc4JLWJ5dmQcQ_EB18Lw/edit?usp=sharing

Current Health: 6/7
Current Glamour: 4/10
>>
>>915066
>Find a place to hide.

We're back out of the Hedge, so we just need to break away and report. Plus, we seem to be having shit luck with running.
>>
>>915066
>Hide!
>>
>>915066
> Smash the key
>>
>>915066
> Find a place to hide (Opposed Stealth)
>>
>>915066
I'm not that familiar with this setting how effective is say wrought IRON fencing against fey beings?
>>
>>915104
Iron ignores all forms of defenses that fey magic creates; iron damage ignores your bonus health, cuts through Contract-made armor, burns through Hedgespun clothes, makes mock of your fey-enhanced speed, etc. It also deals damage that the True Fae cannot heal with sorcery, a fact which, while not applicable here, is one of the reasons Changeling society tries to keep the stuff around.
>>
As you may have guessed, I have a pressing need to catch some sleep. Votes remain open.

We're nearing the end of this one-shot's arc. I realize it's compact; however, the primary purpose was always gonna be to help refine the mechanics. I'd love a post-mortem on those when we get there.

As always, questions, comments, discussion, feedback, and criticisms are welcome and appreciated.

Thank you all for reading and participating!
>>
> Find a place to hide

Also, since it is night,
> enable the thing. Night’s Subtle Distractions. That should make it just that little bit easier to hide.
>>
>>915066
>> Find a place to hide (Opposed Stealth)

Outdoors, at night, when our primary objective is just to report back safely? Definitely

> Activate Night's Subtle Distractions

and disappear.
>>
>>915066
>> Find a place to hide (Opposed Stealth)
If it it's not under Night's use it.
>>
>>915066
>> Find a place to hide (Opposed Stealth)
>>
>>915066
> Tackle it into the fence (Opposed melee)
We've been running and it will keep running; I suspect it has some sort of enhanced senses.
But with an Iron fence maybe we can panic it; /hurt/ it, then run for good, not just gain round.
(Do we have a cellphone to, ya'know, call for backup with?)
>>
>>915066
>> Smash the key (???)
>>
>>915066
> Find a place to hide (Opposed Stealth)
One of these days we'll be able to lose contact and disengage. This will be quite the story once we return to Winter, one that likely won't receive much fanfare. If the response is a few degrees above deadpan, then I'll be suitably impressed.

All in all, this whole chase has been quite enjoyable.
>>
I still think we should have destroyed the key when we had the chance. Shit like that is just asking for trouble.
>>
>>915500
Once Jesse gets away and is out of immediate danger, he could theoretically crush the key then. Smashing magical items while in the middle of dodging whips and running from magical armor just doesn't seem like the most appropriate time.

Then again, what do I know? It is a mystery box, after all.
>>
Called. Winner:

> Find a place to hide (Opposed Stealth)

You activate NIGHT'S SUBTLE DISTRACTIONS, doubling the environmental penalties that the armor suffers to its perception and concentration.

Roll me 2 dice at 1d10+3.
>>
Rolled 8 + 3 (1d10 + 3)

>>915677
Once more, with vigor.
>>
Rolled 5 + 8 (1d10 + 8)

>>915677
>>
Rolled 1 + 3 (1d10 + 3)

>>915677
Wrong mod here >>915681
>>
Rolled 1 (1d10)

>>915680
And our opposed roll with literally all of its bonus swallowed by the penalty, you'd best be thanking >>915147, >>915167, and >>915181
for thinking fast.
>>
>>915684

Get rekt water armor
>>
File: who will stop me.gif (931 KB, 301x240)
931 KB
931 KB GIF
>>915680
>>915684
>>
>>915684
>1
Wait, this is opposed STEALTH, right?
Does that mean a fey entity just horribly botched stealth in the mortal world?
Is that really fucking bad news for us?
>>
File: o_O.png (128 KB, 400x333)
128 KB
128 KB PNG
>>915684
>>
>>915688
In this case, opposed by its Perception.

Writing.
>>
>>915066
8 + 3 = 11 vs. 1; Critical Success, Overkill

This one too you tell Darkness, and the mists shift for you, fouling up the armor's 'vision' and muffling its hearing. You take a step back on silent feet, listening to it fumble through the fog as it tries to fulfill its charge.

It's just going to keep hunting you, but now it's out of its element. This is your home, your birthplace, your world, and you know it better than any Hedgespun automaton.

You click your tongue as you retreat. You hear the rattle-ring of the metallic water as the armor seizes up in attention and then starts to stalk towards where it heard the sound, but you're already moving again. You walk backwards, your ears perked, and keep an eye on your surroundings. You turn, clicking your tongue to keep the armor following , luring it down the sidewalk and into New Avalon proper.

It's a quiet night, but no city ever truly sleeps. The lights from the streetlamps can't cut through the Autumn mist, and you pass freely under them, letting the armor catch a hazy outline of your form. It moves cautiously, suspecting a trap.

When you enter downtown, after nearly an hour of this game of cat and mouse, you cross the street and let out a strangled sound of pain. The armor lunges, barrelling into the road.

The truck that hits it never even slows down.

You check the road for more cars before you walk casually into the middle of it. The minnows from the armor flop on the soaked street, desperate for water. You crush them flat beneath your boot, one after the other, and grind their tiny bones and blood into the pavement. When the last one has been silenced, you go back to the sidewalk and move into an alleyway for some semblance of privacy.

The key doesn't feel out of the ordinary, despite its look. Still, the silver has not tarnished - not even the faintest trace of black mars it - and it gleams even in this low light. Two people died for this, and you still don't know why.

Now you need to decide what to do with it.

> Keep the key for yourself; Winter was promised a report, not a Token
> Destroy it. If it's what you think it is, no one needs to have this power
> Return the key to Winter. It's theirs by right
> Give the key to Autumn. They have power right now
> Write-in?
>>
>>915758
>Return the key to Winter. It's theirs by right

Plus as the Court that holds on to secrets and deals defensively with things we can vaguely trust them not to immediately abuse any power here, they'll think about it first
>>
>>915758
> Return the key to Winter. It's theirs by right
We got a job to finish, in a terrific way to boot.
>>
>>915758
SUCK IT WATER ARMOR! Anyone else picturing the Old Man Henderson thing, or the end of the first Toy Story movie?
>>
>>915758
>> Return the key to Winter. It's theirs by right
>>
>>915758
>> Return the key to Winter. It's theirs by right
>>
>>915758
>> Keep the key for yourself; Winter was promised a report, not a Token
Make a report omitting anything about the key. "I found the cottage destroyed and the inhabitants killed, followed the killer, he noticed and chased me, I lead him in a trap." But if they ask about the key, give it to them.
>>
File: 1465042862833.jpg (629 KB, 2106x2400)
629 KB
629 KB JPG
>>915758
> Return the key to Winter. It's theirs by right

And really more importantly, we're busy currying favor right now to achieve our greater objective of protecting our family.
>>
>>915758
what do we need to roll to identify the token?
>>
>>915908
There's no general magical sense that can help. There's Contracts that can do it (which you don't have); beyond that you need access to research materials, someone with said Contracts, some manner of prophet or expert, or blind luck.
>>
Called, writing. Winner:

> Return the key to Winter. It's theirs by right
>>
File: Darkling Waif.jpg (31 KB, 236x593)
31 KB
31 KB JPG
>>915758
You put the key back in your pocket and start the long walk back to the grief counseling office. You don't have a cell phone to call Winter with, don't know any phone numbers even if you did, and you don't know the rats of the city well enough to tell if they can run a message for you. It's been a long, trying night, but you're used to working through pain, exhaustion, and deprivation. You can manage a walk.

The mists are kind to you, and keep you from being disturbed. The front door to the office is locked, but when you knock politely, the blinds on the door's window are drawn up, revealing Lou's face. He smiles in welcome and throws the bolts before taking a few steps back to let you in without being in your personal space.

You step inside after a moment of checking the entryway. You open your jacket before Luscious Lou can say anything and, without sudden motions, take the key out.

"They found it," Lou murmurs. "I thought it was a false lead. Where are Nicole and Mark now?"

You shake your head. "...They're dead, Lou. They were attacked by a headless rider in armor made of water, with a whip of spines and a high-pitched voice. If Nicole was the woman, her last words were about this key. The rider had it, along with everything metal from the Cottage. I tracked the attacker, identified the key, and stole it from his hand..."

The rest of the story spills out, still fresh in your mind. With the adrenaline leaving your veins, you start to shake partway through it, but in the end you won, and the rider lost, and now you're safe or as safe as you can be. Lou listens attentively and starts to take notes, including asking you for a detailed description of the rider, "to be provided to the Freehold's sketch artist".

"You have gone above and beyond the oath you gave to us," Lou tells you, after you're done. He leads you into the kitchen after bidding you to lock the door behind you (you're all-too-happy to throw the bolts), where he provides you with fresh coffee and access to donuts. "You showed cunning, daring, and a remarkable sympathy for Winter's methodology. There are pointers I could give, perhaps, decisions I would have made differently as an experienced member of the Court, but in all I am rather pleased, Mister Jesse."

"Doctor," you correct, quietly. "...I was a doctor."

"Doctor Jesse," Lou agrees, with a nod. "Moira wants to speak with you. Please, wait here for her? She is a dear friend, and a wise person. You could do well to listen. I must report to the Court, and then to King Raven."

You nod, and take a seat. Lou gives you a slight, courteous bow, and takes his leave out the back door from the kitchen.
>>
File: The Unwilling Offering.png (306 KB, 500x691)
306 KB
306 KB PNG
>>916156
You're waiting about an hour before Moira comes back. In this time you've managed to finish three cups of coffee, find the restroom (thankfully), and polish off the entire box of donuts along with more milk than you feel entirely at ease with having taken without permission. Moira gives you a wan smile and sits across the kitchen counter from you.

"Lou says you knocked it out of the park, cousin," she tells you, by way of greeting. "I'm glad to hear it. I...wanted to talk to you. About your family."

"What have you heard?" you ask, shooting upright.

"Nothing bad," your fellow darkling soothes, holding up a palm. "...Jesse, I won't tell you how to live your life. But I don't think you should go home. I wanted to offer you a place to crash, and my help learning about the Freehold. Learning how to deal with your new life."

You give the woman a cold look.

"I know it sounds crazy," Moira continues. "Their memory brought you back home. You want nothing more than to go back, don't you? I know I did, but..."

"I need to protect them," you interrupt.

"Who's going to protect them from you?" Moira asks, her voice soft and full of sympathy. You sit, in stunned silence. "How are you going to tell your wife why you wake up screaming? What happens if your son sneaks up on you on accident? If one of your enemies follows you home? Jesse, Earth isn't like you used to think. You're part of a different life now. A life they aren't part of."

"That thing wearing my face is not me," you say, in a pained voice.

"I know. But it's done a good job protecting them so far. If it's dangerous, I'll help you kill it myself. But if it's not...if it's not, it's been a father, and a husband, this whole time. It won't hurt anything to let it keep them safe while you figure yourself out.

Your gaze falls to the counter, grief wringing your chest.

"I know it hurts," Moira murmurs. "But it's best for them. Let me help you, cousin."

> Accept Moira's offer
> Strike out on your own
> Resolve to go home

This will be the final vote of this one-shot.
>>
>>916179
>> Accept Moira's offer
Even our fetch was disturbed by what ever is after our family, we need more help and that means more favours.
>>
>>916179
>Accept Moira's offer

Given the brief conversation we did have with our fetch I think that this is the best way to go
>>
>>916179
> Accept Moira's offer

Ask her to join you in saying goodbye to the family. Just being able to see them will help with moving on
>>
>>916179
> Accept Moira's offer
>>
>>916179
>Accept Moira's offer
We need support and she kinda makes some good points.
That said doesn't mean we can't still keep an eye on them, seems kind of wintery to do the whole 'protector in the shadows' shtick.
>>
>>916179
> Accept Moira's offer
Scary Terry would take a break from this shit too.
>>
>>916179
>> Accept Moira's offer
With all this sorrow its like we were made for the winter court
>>
>>916179
> Resolve to go home
>>
As you may have guessed, I had to run to work. Was almost late from trying to finish the last update. Votes will be open until around 1 AM.

Questions, comments, discussion, feedback, and criticisms remain welcome and appreciated.

Thank you all for reading and participating!

No, YOU prioritize questing in an unhealthy fashion.
>>
>>916179
>> Accept Moira's offer

Yeah, there's too much happening that we don't understand for it to be at all responsible to go home, even without the super-PTSD.

If we're careful, and do things right, there's a chance—not a large chance, but a chance—that we could manage to resolve our issues, take care of whatever is a threat to our family, and replace our fetch without our family even knowing anything happened.

Might need to come up with something to explain our lack of memory of the time—what was it, eight years?—though.

But it sounds like that will all be either in a future quest, or offscreen.

Enjoyed this, Vox. Looking forward to more.
>>
>>917511
Welcome to one of the consuming challenges of the Changeling experience. Addressing the lost time, even without a Fetch in the picture, is challenging or at times impossible. Many face down the fact that they may never reclaim their former lives.
>>
Isn't there a thing where, if a Changeling can make peace with his or her Fetch, the two will merge and the Changeling becomes human again? Or at least, gets to peacefully reclaim their life?
>>
Mechanics talk:

The character sheet does a good job of making the character into something playable as similar to the tabletop experience.

What I mean by this is that the abilities, particularly the minor/situational ones, are something that needs to be kept in mind and examined during each encounter. Not only that, by having Jesse's abilities in a detailed, compact list simultaneously implies that other characters would likely have a somewhat similar spread of choices. It puts me as a player into the mindset that I need to pay attention to any potential enemy, such as the dullahan sending his armor to chase after us. The mechanics reflect how the world's characters and creatures are not all going to be one trick ponies, implying further depth in the world. There is no "push this button to win in every situation" power for Jesse, instead we had to reevaluate the charaheet for every change in the chase scene.

Of course, even the best laid plans can be at least hindered by shitty rolls. The bonuses for abilities never felt too overpowered nor too weak, especially since combat became a process of playing to our strengths. Having a range of success/failure depending on the degrees of success/failure around the DC was a welcome addition, especially since it gives a little cushion between suceeding and utterly failing a check.

Overall the combat system and rolling was smooth. Rolling 2 feels more appropriate than just one, while rolling 3 would give us too much probability to autowin (especially on a d10).

There wasn't too much of an explanation as to how we got Jesse's powers, though due to the nature of a oneshot I don't hold it too much against the narrative. If given more time, I'm sure it'd be easy to flesh out what the powers mean in the world rather than just a description in a charaheet. By the end, I think we were doing a decent job of coming to understand Jesse's potential style of fighting/using his abilities to deal with conflict situations.

I still have no idea what the limitations for glamour based powers are. I mean, it makes sense that Jesse wouldn't know the metaphysics around glamour and how it works. The structure of the magic may not be essential to understand that it's the magic of the setting, but I'd like to see how it could be explained narratively.

All in all, the rolls themselves don't really have a radically pivotal impact on the fight (that saying, we didn't catastrophically fuck up any rolls). Decently big successes mainly felt like "Jesse didn't fuck up whatsoever" or "the enemy fucked up, something that was a nice added bonus to everything going to plan". I at least didn't feel too much tension with the dice in particular. Instead, tension arose from the situation in the narrative and me giving Jesse's plight more emphasis by wanting to see him succeed and not get murdered brutally. Even with a detailed charsheet, the mechanics did not overpower the weight of the narrative.

What does everyone else think?
>>
>>918119
Yes.
>>
>>918063
He doesnt turn human, he never will but least part of the changeling will be at peace.
Also it gives you a major boost becasue you gain all the memories of the fetch and some powr-up depening of the storyteller.
Merging with the fetch is the ideal after all but its supposed to be really rare.
>>
>>916179
Called, writing. Winner:

> Accept Moira's offer

>>916435
Who is Scary Terry?

>>916220
>>916228
>>916325
>>916518
>>917511
I'm gonna be honest guys, thus far y'all have played a better Winter Courtier than literally all of my players who have ever made a Winter character and Jesse isn't even Winter yet.

>>918119
I shall engage with this after the Final Update (tm), but thank you for offering it.

>>918063
>>918172
Yyyessss and also nnnoooo. Like many elements introduced in the splat books (in this case, Autumn Nightmares), this is presented as a potential element. Now, it's one I like, but even if it's true it's both an extreme uncertainty (it's not exactly a repeatably testable event) and, well, difficult. To start with it requires both parties to actually be willing and that's a hard thing to ask of either of them.

Writing!
>>
>>918319
Scary Terry is a Freddy Krueger parody from Rick and Morty. You should watch it.
Also Rick, one of the main characters, is a Genius the Transgression PC played right.
>>
>>918119
Nailed it.

>>918400
Huh. Haven't watched it yet.
>>
File: Winter Court.png (305 KB, 697x700)
305 KB
305 KB PNG
>>916179
Moira gives you time to think. The silence she offers is free from judgement or expectation. Some part of you wants to lunge across the counter and gut her for trying to come between you and your family. You can already taste the blood on your tongue, but you force it down.

She doesn't deserve your anger. Moira is just trying to help, and you know she has a point. Slowly, you take your hand back out of your pocket, not sure of when you thrust it in there to the knife handle, and set both of your palms against the counter.

"You don't have to stick your neck out for me," you murmur.

"You're kin," Moira answers in a solemn voice. "If not me, then who? Look, I know I said Winter's mercenary. We are. But that's as a Court, you know? My friendships are my business."

"Sounds complicated," you mutter.

"It's honestly more simple than you think," Moira tells you.

You let out a long breath. "I'll only stay at your place until I can get a new one of my own."

"Of course," Moira agrees, readily.

"...I won't go after the razor blade man."

Your fellow darkling offers a slim hand across the counter, her palm turned up. "You're making the right choice," she tells you. "I bet you could use a drink."

You stare at her hand for a long minute, then take it in your own. You share a brief squeeze before the two of you let go.

"I could, at that," you agree. "Let's go."

* * * *
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jlTBf6RaAyI

A little more than a month later, you offer your oath of vassalage to the Freehold, during the waning days of Autumn's reign.

"Is there a Court to sponsor and guide your journey into our society, foundling?" Raven asks, formally.

"The Lords of December guide my feet home," you answer, with equal formality.

"Then rise, son of Winter," the King of Autumn bids you. "And be welcome."

There is the lightest of brushes on your shoulders, and you smile faintly.

This time, it's you that smells of snow.

End of Scarred by Thorns
>>
>>918456
Hey waiddaminute
did we return Moira's knife?
>>
File: Vox-tan.png (205 KB, 700x620)
205 KB
205 KB PNG
>>918456
My thanks to everyone for reading and participating! This was a nice break from Dungeon Life Quest, and a good opportunity to show more of Changeling: the Lost's setting, as well as introduce more of New Avalon's Freehold.

Now is a great time to ask questions, offer feedback, and make suggestions for how to improve elements of the narrative, mechanics, or worldbuilding. My ears are open, and I'll be using this thread for that until it sages out.

Additionally, I'm considering communicating additional worldbuilding in the form of a sort of IC Q&A, where you'd take the brief role of a young Autumn courtier learning about the sorceries and supernatural opportunities and dangers afforded to all Lost. Is there an interest in handling it that way, or would you prefer to keep such questions strictly OOC? The thing is, when we get to the long-term quest - Cinderella Sanction - you'll be taking the role of someone established, who already knows most of this information. That can make exposition...tricky.

If you liked Jesse, no worries; he'll show up again in Cinderella Sanction.

I look forward to your feedback, and thanks again for playing!
>>
>>918470

Really liked playing this one-shot. Was happy that we out-Wintered your usual players. Quick question, but how bad would it have likely gone if we stood and fought the dullahan's armour?

The roll mechanics were different enough. It's nice feeling like our rolls had weight behind them, and less chance for the ultra swingy crits common to other quests.
>>
>>918462
Eventually.

>>918119
I was sorta frustrated with myself for not being able to bring out some of the mechanics (vice/virtue, Contracts of Fang and Talon, etc). I also feel like I still need to tweak the DC math some, though I suppose I'll find that out when I get more feedback from anon.

Can I get you to expand on this:

> All in all, the rolls themselves don't really have a radically pivotal impact on the fight (that saying, we didn't catastrophically fuck up any rolls). Decently big successes mainly felt like "Jesse didn't fuck up whatsoever" or "the enemy fucked up, something that was a nice added bonus to everything going to plan". I at least didn't feel too much tension with the dice in particular. Instead, tension arose from the situation in the narrative and me giving Jesse's plight more emphasis by wanting to see him succeed and not get murdered brutally.
>>
>>918488
Depends on how you fought. Straight-on combat was something the armor was good at, but stopping to fight and choosing to fight fair are two very different choices.
>>
>>918319
>I'm gonna be honest guys, thus far y'all have played a better Winter Courtier than literally all of my players who have ever made a Winter character and Jesse isn't even Winter yet.
I think this comes down to 'the character presented is accentuated by the scenario' which may or may not speak to your scenario design talent.
>>
>>918492
Vox, how do you feel about Genius: the Transgression? Because I feel that you could pull off a nice one-shot in that setting.
>>
File: Suffering.jpg (71 KB, 351x319)
71 KB
71 KB JPG
>>918511
That it, for both good and ill, was of a quality that White Wolf themselves might have presented. I liked a lot of elements of it, including the "villain" faction (it's hard to think of the Lemurians as being precisely the bad guys) and quite a bit about Inspiration and Mania. I did not like a lot of the mechanics and their narrative implications, including and especially time travel, which just needs to die in a fucking hole.

It did give us the most poignant and heartbreaking line in the entirety of nWoD, though, first-party or third - "I think I was like you, once. There's something amazing out there. I wish I could remember what it is."
>>
>>918470
I like it. But as somebody who doesn't play Changeling, I need explanations about the setting. During the Arthur quest I already looked up the difference "races" of changelings and read some wiki articles, but this thing with glamour and skill mechanics is eluding me. Perhaps you could add some mechanics explanations in a pastebin when you start the next quest.
>>
>>918490
Sure.

The 10 earlier concerning the tracking check, while an impressive roll, didn't have much narrative emphasis. Jesse found the piece of parchment talking about the key, something that may've been missed on a lesser perception check, found the tracks, and successfully followed them with ease. This is a moment of "Jesse not fucking up" as the primary cause for why a scene plays out as it does. A part of the lack of a big pay out is the nature of the roll, simply trying to track whoeber attacked the cottage. I'm sure there was plenty of room for failure/not doing as perfectly, but the perfect performance itself just kinda happened.

That probably isn't the best example of the dice not affecting the narration as well as it could, but that's something that'll only be better understood via more rolls.

The armor rolling its 1 is an example of "the enemy fucking up" as the rpimary motivation for outcome. Jesse succeeded his sneak check well enough, and it was happy coincidence that the armor was ran over by a truck. All in all it was a rather passive scene, though it showcases Jesse's intelligence to lead the armor to the highway. Overally it was more effective in showing the results of catastrophically failing, though it was more a somewhat humorous scene than anything else.

For the discussion on tension, I meant that the act of seeing dice rolled/rolling them myself can be a dramatic point for the experience of players in other quests. Not only is tension in the text, the participation of the players who discuss votes and roll add to the overall player's experience. For me, this quest's tension rested more on the narrative and, to a lesser extent, the voting. The dice weren't all that much of an Event, basically.

>>918488 show that these rolls can craft a similar response as dice in other quests, though. At least for me, I wasn't all that on the edge of my seat, NEEDING to see how the roll affects the situation at hand, y'know? The result didn't co-resonate with the narrative that follows it.

If this is confusing, I applogize, I'm trying to explain a vibe that generally isn't at the forefront of my conscious thought. I'm not entirely sure how you would go about implementing this feedback, since I'm sure a large part of this vibe is because of your understated style. I don't really want the dice to create an insane amount of drama and impact on the story or anything ridiculous like that. It's just a small peculiarity of the relationship between the experience of these mechanics paired with your style of writing.
>>
Alright folks I'm hittin' bed. Will address additional feedback whenever I get up and manage to go from a corpse to a human being.

Also still taking opinions on the proposal here: >>918470
>>
>>918470
>Is there an interest in handling it that way, or would you prefer to keep such questions strictly OOC?

I, at least, feel that it reduces friction to keep such questions OOC.

That's not to say that /answers/ might not include snippets from the perspective of a character, if that helps you to frame them in a way that communicates the information more clearly...but I think trying to ask questions of an in-character entity is generally a bit trickier than asking them of our illustrious QM.
>>
>>918689
keep 'em OOC, that way we can ask whatever the fuck dumb questions we can think of without having to word them in a way that won't get a character killed or reprimanded.

>dammit, I care about a vox character THAT DOESN'T EXIST YET
>>
I'm alive! We're open for Q&A and, of course, feedback.

>>918811
It is, traditionally, somewhat expected of apprentices that they will ask stupid questions and do stupid shit. This is by way of being what apprentices are for.
>>
>>919133
Just got on to say I ship Moira and Jesse, thought I'd let you know.
>>
File: 1445540207151.png (4 KB, 203x231)
4 KB
4 KB PNG
>>919166
...I'll bite, vhy?
>>
>>919175
I'm a sucker for romance and have a wild imagination.
>>
>>919217
Aye, but Jesse thinks of himself as a married man, to say nothing of whatever grief gave Moira a place in Winter.
>>
>>919277
Your logic does nothing to sway me, maybe someday, after it well and truly sinks in that there is no going back to the family life he once had.
>>
>>919314
"No going back to the (family) life he once had" doesn't imply "No going back to the /family/ he once had".

No, things can't be the way they were before...but that doesn't mean Jesse can't return to his family at some point and move /forward/ there.
>>
So what purpose does the vice/virtue mechanic serve? How is it reflected in the setting's rules?
>>
>>919924
In nWoD, Vice and Virtue reflect parts of your character that help define them. They're not the only examples of those two things that a given character has, but they're the ones that character most strongly identifies with. For the Virtue, it's your passion or defining strength; for the Vice, it's your comfort or defining weakness.

In the base game, the mechanics of Virtue and Vice relate to regaining a resource known as Willpower, which can be expended on rolls and is required for certain powerful effects. I've adapted them to offering up an untyped advantage that can be expended on a roll. The Vice one is smaller but, generally, easier to fulfill - if you're willing to be a bastard (or an idiot...) on a consistent basis to get it.
>>
To the folks that had questions about Glamour - what do you want to know?
>>
>>921323
Alright.

Glamour: if you had to describe how the magic works, how would you? The glamour itself seems to be something of a blank slate, merely an energy siphoned off of other people. So it's a source of a Changeling's abilities, but how does it go from pool of blank magic to effect on the world?
>>
>>921402
Glamour in itself is not the magic. It's more like...a currency, of sorts.

On Jesse's sheet, as well as on Arthur's, you'll see a Wyrd score. Wyrd, the power of time and fate, is the common thread that makes fae creatures fae; a fae creature like a Changeling, hobgoblin, or True Fae is partly or wholly composed of Wyrd on the spiritual and possibly physical levels.

Being of the Wyrd gives you access to something like, but not quite, an alternate set of physics. Wyrd sanctifies Pledges, giving them supernatural boons and sanctions, and is the heart of the formalized Contracts through which the fae work their sorceries.

A Contract is a formal agreement between one party and the general body of fae creatures. "Learning" a Contract makes you one of its signatories, able to benefit in defined and agreed manners - the Clauses. Signing deeper into the Contract gives you more Clauses to use as you pay your dues.

Glamour is the currency that pays for these services, as well as for access to various other ancient and universal pacts, such as those that afford entrance to and egress from the Hedge.

Glamour can be gained from a variety of sources, including and especially human emotions and human dreams. The faithful fulfillment of certain Pledges, as well as some goblin fruits, will also provide Glamour. The emotions and dreams of fae creatures, on the other hand, usually do not.

Glamour is not known or thought to be "lost" by the mortals it's taken from; it appears to be a byproduct flavored by the emotions and dreams rather than their essence. Still, consistently manipulating someone to get Glamour from them may well constitute emotional abuse, and the Lost are cautious about tapping their loved ones just in case what is "known" is wrong.

Did you have a more specific question?
>>
>>922059
How about theae Contracts and the additional Clauses: how would a Changeling/Changeling-in-process go about formong these deals?
>>
>>922552
A Changeling's initial Contracts are signed in Arcadia, and the memories of the precise circumstances are as hazy and shredded as all memories of the Fairest of Lands. Outside of Arcadia, signing an existing Contract is a matter of finding the agreed-upon costs and rites, then paying them. Workarounds exist but for the most part the process is rather poetic.

Forging an entirely new Contract...

Well, such a feat is the stuff of legends. The last four Lost to do it founded the Seasonal Courts in pre-Christian Rome and are still legends bordering on messianic figures.
>>
>>922783
I haven't looked it up yet, but all of the Contracts seem to be elemental in nature, like Stone and Water. Are there more obscure Contracts, or one based on something more 'modern' like Machines? Just imagining how beneficial it would be to turn the technological progression of humanity into something magical that can be used against the Fae.

Also, how much crossover is there with the other White Wolf settings? I don't really think anyone would be happy to be walking on an old country road after escaping the Hedge only to be jumped by a hungry Gangrel.
>>
>>923001
> I haven't looked it up yet, but all of the Contracts seem to be elemental in nature, like Stone and Water. Are there more obscure Contracts, or one based on something more 'modern' like Machines? Just imagining how beneficial it would be to turn the technological progression of humanity into something magical that can be used against the Fae.

Sure. Just in the core book you see Contracts of Dream, Hearth, Vainglory, the Fleeting Court contracts (used to influence emotion), and more. Later books introduce such esoterica as Contracts of Animation, Contracts of Forge, Contracts of Shade & Spirit, Contracts of Oath & Punishment, and more.

In The Equinox Road, the sample of a player-created Contract used to demonstrate the process in the book is Contracts of Reflections, and its existence is a common houserule/inclusion.

It should be noted that strictly speaking, various Contracts of Elements are different Contracts following a common pattern (that is, Elements (Fire) is technically a separate agreement from Elements (Glass) and the line), with Contracts of Fang & Talon following a similar pattern but for animals. Think of them as a form agreement; they're fundamentally similar and in a sense identical, but just because you're signed on with Elephants doesn't mean Songbirds owe you jack shit.

> Also, how much crossover is there with the other White Wolf settings? I don't really think anyone would be happy to be walking on an old country road after escaping the Hedge only to be jumped by a hungry Gangrel.

I have not yet made a complete decision on this. Changelings are uniquely situated in that they in no sense require crossover, but they are very good at it both as a narrative line and as a game line. When you shoot the obvious culprits (mages, sin eaters, mummies) out of the setting, Changelings play very nicely with those that remain in a variety of fashions.

My inner nerd says 'cross it'. My inner and outer author says, 'don't dilute the themes'.
>>
File: Dungeon Life Quest.png (194 KB, 500x500)
194 KB
194 KB PNG
For those of you that follow DLQ, it's going to resume on my next day off or at least the next time I've got a few solid hours to get to it. I'll announce the exact time here (if the thread is still up) and in QTG as well.

I really do need something for folks to track. Might follow Planefag's example and get a tumblr.
>>
>>924210
I don't think people use tumblr here, that place is to much of a hatefilled shithole.
>>
>>924210
>Planefag's example
He hasn't finished a quest in a looooong time, so don't follow too closely.
>>
>>924247
Anon, you're telling me this on THE hate-filled shithole. If folks don't like the rest of the site, don't scroll through it. It's a blog hosting platform, not an infectious disease.
>>
>>924288
I would argue otherwise, but do you man.
>>
>>924288
He may have a point though, in that rather few people here may have a tumblr and as such can't actually follow your blog.

I mean, it's your choice, but twitter might make more sense, since that's what most QMs use.
>>
>>924267

[HISSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS]
>>
>>924288
>Anon, you're telling me this on THE hate-filled shithole. If folks don't like the rest of the site, don't scroll through it. It's a blog hosting platform, not an infectious disease.

Also, trufax? This. Tumblr is basically a cancer node that runs on reblogs, i.e. there's maybe five percent on the site that generate new content and the other ninety-five percent are the clowns that repost it endlessly. Mine's basically an askblog that I started because ask.fm is a pile of shit, and despite tagging a lot of posts as thoroughly as possible I've yet to have angry SJWs stampede into my notes to whine.

(Alas.)

So yeah, it works, it has an ask box function and - and this is the big thing - it's *not wordpress.*

Fucking wordpress.
>>
>>926324
>>926355
My god, he's alive.
Shit, I guess I'm out of the betting pool then.
>>
File: noose-chan.jpg (63 KB, 1280x720)
63 KB
63 KB JPG
>>926479
>Shit, I guess I'm out of the betting pool then.

STAY THE COURSE ANON
>>
>>926624
I've got until 2017 for your sister to kill you if I want the pool, so unless you fuck up Christmas in some sort of retarded romcom harem comedy manner I'm basically out of luck.

Actually, you're right. I've still got a damn good chance at this.
>>
>>924295
I hate Twitter with a fully irrational, yet all-consuming, passion. It's not an option I'm going to pursue under any circumstance. Worst-case scenario for readers without a Tumblr of their own (which I imagine will be most of them) is bookmarking the page or checking it based on the post at the top.

In a related story, it's looking like Tuesday will be the earliest possible start for DLQ.

Do we have any questions remaining? Do folks want or need to know more about Seemings? The Courts? Did anyone read through the last one-shot that got linked above to get an idea of what was going on, and what are the thoughts on linking the one-shots (and subsequent discussion) rather than making a giant Pastebin or Gdoc?
>>
>>927577
I'd like to hear more about the Seeming. I must've missed the word earlier, cuz I honestly don't recognize it.

I'd say that having previous threads would be good to include in the link dump for the new quest, if only so people can experience the world rather than have it info dumped onto them. (Not that the infodumps aren't delicious worldbuilding, just that some people prefer learning via narrative).

Not only that, characters, I feel, stand out better via narrative means.

An idea for a infodoc: since we are going to be hopping into a character that is further along than Jesse was, how about a doc that includes all the major relevant things that character knows? A "IC Knowledge List" if you will.

The reason I bring this up is because there are a lot of small details that make this world work, with plenty of textbook-tier Key Words that are required knowledge for players to vote effectively.

I propose that the infodoc should be a Basics Guide as pertaining to the new character, plus all the particular knowledge they've gathered and deemed important along the way. Not all of this has to be pretyped either.

My idea is to have it barebones in the beginning, and as the character meets others they already know, a quick blurp about the basics of the MC and the other's relationship is dropped off in a gdoc. This is mostly just to have notes on the relations and status of the characters as well as keeping unnecessary exposition out of the narrative unless it would be realistic for the characters to bring up something they both remember, y'know?

It'll keep the world feeling alive, interconnected, and decently large if the new MC dives right in to interacting with people they already know. I'd only suggest paying attention to describing how the MC views these known characters, but in a way that isn't "This guy, this guy here is a fucking twat."

Or do that, if it fits. Some context in the narrative would be helpful, but keep it subtle unless the details are necessary.
>>
>>927652
> I'd like to hear more about the Seeming. I must've missed the word earlier, cuz I honestly don't recognize it.

It's there on both Jesse and Arthur's sheets, and you've encountered examples of the terms. To speak excessively broadly, Seemings are the 'types' of Changeling insofar as a Seeming describes something you are rather than something you do - or, more accurately, something you've been through.

Each of the six Seemings - Beasts, Darklings, Elementals, Fairest, Ogres, and Wizened - describe a range of physical and mystical adaptations, sympathies, and experiences shared by its members. All Ogres were shaped by physical abuse and labor into physically (and magically) mighty beings who can call on great strength but are easily duped; all Darklings lost some part of themselves and had it replaced with nothing, and now seek to fill the hollow part with something else, and so on, and so forth.

As Moira noted, Seemings form a sort of mystic kinship. Certain Contracts were struck preferentially for specific Seemings - these affinity Contracts are signed more easily, and at lower cost, for members of those Seemings and for other fae creatures like them. Each Seeming comes with a blessing (such as Arthur's Ogrish Might or Jesse's Shadowy Guile) and a curse (Arthur's Gullibility, Jesse's Light Shyness) that further define a common bond and common strengths.

Seemings are not all-defining. Just as not having legs doesn't mean you can't climb Everest, there's nothing stopping, say, a Darkling from pursuing an active outdoor career with a diurnal schedule - but in general, members of various Seemings will share trends in thoughts and behaviors. Stereotypes about various Seemings often go well above and beyond their actual magical strengths and obstacles, as seen in the idea that Ogres are all idiot brutes (they have a penalty to gullibility, not intelligence) or that Darklings are all untrustworthy backstabbers. Lost society, like human society, creates and perpetuates stereotypes that can affect those who through no fault of their own are a member of one Seeming or another.

The broad strokes of the various Seemings are:

> Beasts
Pic related. Beasts spent some or all of their Durance (their stay in Arcadia) with the minds and usually the bodies of animals. To make their way back they had to remember what it was like to think human thoughts, to reason instead of only acting on instinct, and then escape from captivities and torments they did not really understand. Beasts have trouble with organized, formalized thought (including and especially stuff like medicine, computers, and other academic pursuits) but have a natural rapport with animals and the ability to enhance their presence, for good (appeal) and ill (intimidation). Their affinity Contracts are Fang & Talon, Den, and Wild.
>>
File: Snowskin.jpg (42 KB, 400x616)
42 KB
42 KB JPG
>>927699
> Darklings
Darklings are usually people who got the attention of the True Fae by transgressing somehow. Their service is a form of punishment; they were kept in lands or places of darkness and deprived of something they never got back. Sometimes this loss is purely ephemeral; other times the Darkling loses something, or many things, that seem only physical only to find out that they were deprived of so much more in the bargain. Darklings tend to embody fears of various kinds, such as old age, enclosed spaces, violence, or even betrayal, and are put to such purposes by their masters. Darklings are naturally talented at stealth and deception, but light makes them uncomfortable and withers their sorceries. Their affinity Contracts are Darkness and Shade & Spirit.

> Elementals
Pic related. Like Beasts, Elementals generally spent a large amount of their Durance in a non-human form. Unlike Beasts, most Elementals weren't even conventionally alive. As living statues of ice, tamed flames, the breezes pulling the chariots of the gods, or even sapient data retained as messengers in spidery cities made all of razor wire, Elementals lost not human thought, but human perspective, entirely. Elementals have trouble with empathy and with expressing their own alien thoughts and emotions, but display incredible supernatural endurance. Like Beasts, Elementals tend to be sharply defined by their Kiths (more on those later) and are stunningly diverse in circumstances, experiences, and skill sets, to the point where it's almost easier to compare a given Elemental to other Seemings with common experiences rather than other Elementals; that is, a Waterborn Elemental is best compared to Swimmerskin Beasts or Water-Dweller Ogres rather than to a Fireheart Elemental. Their affinity Contracts are Elements, Communion, and Wild.

> Fairest
As the name suggests, the Fairest are beautiful, striking, and glorious. The Fairest experienced Durances of sharp extremes, with both deadly pleasures and hideous torments offered to them, and received excessive attention from their Keepers. Those Keepers generally take the Fairest for a singular talent - their dancing, singing, their teaching or their valor - and then alter, train, beat, pay, tempt, and otherwise shape the Fairest to bring that talent out. Many leave Arcadia to find that it has become their sole defining quality, and veer wildly between narcissism and crippling insecurity. The Fairest are magically gifted socialites, able to manipulate others through the adroit use of Glamour, but they go mad faster, more easily, and to a greater extent than their fellow Lost and lose themselves to hallucinations and retreats into fairy tale behavior. Their affinity Contracts are Vainglory and Separation.
>>
File: Ogre in suit.jpg (12 KB, 236x361)
12 KB
12 KB JPG
>>927716
> Ogres
Pic related. Ogres were shaped by physical violence, deprivation, and abuse. To survive their transformation, Ogres became hardened to violence and used to living in fear - fear of more beatings, fear of slow death by starvation, and fear of those with more strength than they did. Many of those who become Ogres never escape Arcadia; abused, they become abusers and remain to perpetuate the cycle that created them. Those that do escape and make it back to the mortal world had to be strong of will, with a firm sense of themselves and the memories that guided them home. Ogres tend to prefer direct solutions to problems and are gifted with supernatural strength and might, but like the giants they emulate they tend to be easy to trick - something that leads others to believe they're stupid. Many who make it back home find it too easy to fall back into the roles their Keepers created for them. Others, like Arthur, look to rise above the violence that created them. Their affinity Contracts are Stone and Oath & Punishment

> Wizened
Wizened are often some of the most tragic of the Lost, because they were usually taken for no reason at all. They were there, and the Fae took them; end of story. Wizened are shaped and trained as manual labor in Arcadia, serving as assistants to horrific Fae surgeons, soldiers in mad armies, drudges, gardeners, butlers, and more. Most of those destined to become Wizened die or fail to escape. Those that do escape overcome cunning, vicious tormentors who trick, mock, beat, and entrap them; to get out, a Wizened must outsmart, outplan, and eventually outrun their captors. The spite that shapes the Wizened make it harder for them to project themselves, to handle social situations as more than a background element, but it also makes them cunning and dexterous. Their affinity Contracts are Artifice, Animation, and Forge, but the first two are in this awkward situation where whoever the fuck wrote them was clearly high off their mind; they're really bad. Getting them fixed up before potentially offering up a Wizened player character has been one of my priorities.

All Seemings have further subdivisions that describe more specialized mystical and sometimes physical commonalities. These subdivisions are known as Kiths. Arthur, for instance, is a Stonebones Ogre; his captivity was in barren canyons and rocky badlands, and he took the stone upon himself to survive. Jesse's time in the Labyrinth made him a Razorhand, a swift, sudden killer with an affinity for knives and blades. Kiths describe a further magical advantage (the Kith blessing, such as The Ripper's Gift) and help give an idea of the kind of Durance a given Changeling endured that caused them to be transformed into, or adapt into, a given skill set.

That help?
>>
>>927747
Yep!
>>
>>927747
Have you posted arthurs charsheet yet?
>>
>>927837
It was posted as part of King of New Avalon Quest, but you can find him here:

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1U5Lzx4tv01QjKdU0-v-16gawa7udDze9KXfGMxQpbIY/edit?usp=sharing

This is as of the end of that one-shot.
>>
>>927843
gonna browse the archive for it, thanks!
>>
>>927863
Enjoy, my friend. That was the first test-run of some of these mechanics; you'll see changes from there to here.
>>
>>927699
>>927716
>>927747

...I usually dabble in Exalted when it comes to White Wolf stuff, which is it's own flavor of completely fucked up, but christ.

This is sort of horrifying.

I mean, I know it's derived from a horror themed game, but this is way too creepy for my usual tastes. It's interesting, but in an almost lovecraftian sense.

These people end up broken on a fundamental level. I'm surprised that there's enough of them and that they network well enough to form a society at all,
>>
>>927962
As far as I understood, of the huge number of kidnapped people only a very very small number are able to flee. They form a society because it's the only way for them to survive in a world they no longer fit into.
>>
File: True Fae (escape).jpg (100 KB, 600x955)
100 KB
100 KB JPG
>>927962
Some parts of their circumstances help those who will become Changelings adapt and hit at least functional insanity, but, yes - these people are traumatized quite literally past the limits of human endurance, and are forever changed for it. No Changeling can just have the life they used to have, although some try in the (vain) hope that they can pretend what happened to them didn't actually happen. All have to come to terms with the abuses inflicted upon them and try to find fulfillment and satisfaction in their new lives.

There is a reason that privateers and loyalists - the mercenary or retained servants of the True Fae, charged with undermining Lost society and providing new slaves for their masters - are considered the lowest scum, beneath even such heinous atrocities as rape or serial murder. Changelings, without a hint of irony, can look at a cannibalistic Ogre who never stopped secretly dining on human flesh and think, "Thank God, at least he's not a privateer."

More people are stolen by the Fae than will ever return. The Lost who manage to first escape their captivity, then make it into the Hedge, and from there emerge into the lands of their birth are almost universally some of the most extraordinary and strong-willed people ever taken. Even then, circumstances can conspire to cheat them of their reunion; time is different between the Fairest of Lands and Earth, and some make it into the Hedge only to find that the mortal world has changed so much in their absence that they can no longer remember the way home. This informs both the higher population of Changelings in Arcadia proper (the lack of escape, ending up trapped by differences in time, and eventually losing humanity entirely and becoming other...things) and the society of escapees on Earth.

Some Changelings emerge into places with no other Lost aside from themselves; their homes weren't the hunting grounds of the Fae before, or the last time anyone was taken was so long ago that they're gone, among other reasons. Most, though, are drawn back to places that have been the stalking ground of one or more True Fae for some time, and find other escapees already present. In places of relatively small Lost population, perhaps three to twelve Changelings, there may be no such thing as Courts or even a formalized Freehold. As the local population climbs, though, they generally create a Freehold both for mutual protection, defense, and assistance, and to gain the protective power of the pacts that keep a Freehold together. These pacts, embodied in the chosen system of Courts that come to rule the Freehold, help to provide a mystic resistance to the True Fae, offer power to the Lost that remain faithful to them, and to an extent assist in protecting mortals from a fate exactly as terrible as that of the Changelings among them.
>>
>>928667
The majority of the Lost still think of themselves as, and certainly identify as, human. To an extent they're not entirely wrong; Changelings are post-human, not inhuman. Absent certain extraordinary circumstances or really stupid bargains, the Lost feel the full range of human emotions and have memories of very human lives, memories that even if occluded - like in the case of fresh escapees still in the throes of panic and hunger - are stronger, sharper, more clear, and more numerous than any of their shattered and tattered recollections of the Fairest of Lands.

But obstacles attend to a Changeling's attempts to return to having a life on Earth. Even a Lost who manages to come back to no Fetch, no time displacement, no suspicions about their absence, and no lack of employment caused by said absence has to bear the scars of their ordeal and learn to move through a society where what others consider normal can trigger memories of horror (or pleasure...) that humans weren't meant to endure. Freeholds represent a place where a Changeling can be honest about themselves with others, where people understand why you might jolt at a casual touch or avoid sitting without convenient access to exits.

The vast majority of the Lost do have it harder than that. They come home to find fakes living the lives they left behind, fakes that are not always as well-made and human as Jesse's. They spend hours in Arcadia only to return ten years later, too young for anyone to believe they are who they say they are, or come back to find that events have rocked the world while they were gone and they now no longer understand the society they left. They need help finding a job, a place to live, and learning how to handle both again without either having a nervous breakdown or hurting someone. Freeholds provide these services as well for new Lost, sheltering them and helping to ease them back into the world of their birth. When the new Changeling is ready, they can always go off on their own to find a job or a home, and no one will stop them - but no one will make them go, either. For many who come back with no place at all to belong, the Freehold can be that place for them.

With fragments of the Wyrd doing duty for the missing parts of their souls and an awareness of, and access to, a layer of magic and wonder they never knew or could have known as mortals, ultimately healthy adjustment to becoming a Changeling involves coming to terms with the fact that you're different now. It doesn't all have to be off-key rhymes sung while you hunt the weak and curses that follow bloodlines; the magic of Arcadia is full of wonder too, and Changelings can bring out that wonder in Earth and use it to protect and aid those they love and care for.

It's a challenge, yes, but if it were easy they'd all do it. Instead they band together to fight and survive together when alone they all would fail.
>>
Jesus, is there such a thing as a 'good' Fae? Most of them seem to be colossal assholes.

Silence could be a bitch sometimes, but it would definitely be in character for her to throttle anyone that threatened one of her people. And Flitter is a sweetheart.
>>
File: True Fae (Core Book).jpg (26 KB, 236x398)
26 KB
26 KB JPG
>>931647
Define 'good'.

The True Fae go by many names, because humanity and the Lost have long understood that their attention is a thing you do not want. Fearful mortals say, "The Kindly Ones." Nervous occultists and Wiccans, giggling to hide their fear, say, "The Lords and Ladies." They get called the Cousins, the Others, the Strangers, the Gentry, they are known as Them, as the Keepers, as anything, anything at all, but their name, because to name them is to attain their interest, and to attain their interest is to suffer.

The Lords of Arcadia are not human. They have no empathy to them. They can relate to other beings only, ever, by comparison - to be True Fae is to have no true sense of "I" as separate from anything else. Instead they think of themselves as comparisons - "I am crueler than the Prince of Pipes, less intelligent than the Lady of Diamonds, and more celebrated than my rivals," - without any context for what those comparisons mean about themselves or anyone else. They love and hate like nothing else, they pursue mad whims or brutal revenges utterly out of proportion to their slights, but they have no empathy, no ability to relate to another being's pain or joy, or even to really predict how it will happen outside of specific contexts in which their skills have been honed by centuries of practice without comprehension.

The Lost believe that in their own realms, the True Fae are as powerful and incomprehensible as gods. Even on Earth they shine as terrible jewels of Wyrd, burning brightly against the dross of the mortal realms. The Lady of the Lake, in King of New Avalon Quest, was a weak and grasping True Fae and even she lost essentially because of her own arrogance and certitude (and the betrayal of her mercenary).

What do the Fae want? No one knows. Individual Fae express certain behaviors, certainly, but no one knows why the True Fae steal mortals. Theories abound, of course. The True Fae are creatively sterile; mortal slaves can invent things for their masters that the Fae simply cannot. Some True Fae have Contracts or Pledges that require behavior in relation to mortals - punishments to inflict, rewards to bestow - but for the most part so many of these abductions happen for horribly unclear reasons. Why steal a mortal to clean your foot-thick scales when you could create a fae servant to do so, or use sorcery? Why steal a mortal musician when you can pact with Song itself? Why play the Devil with a cocky businessman, claiming their soul for their success?

This question haunts the Lost, and may never really be answered.

Why?

But it is important to note that the True Fae and 'the fae' are not the same body of beings. The True Fae, the terrible and glorious rulers of Arcadia, are certainly the source of many terrible legends on Earth, but the denizens of the Hedge - hobgoblins, Hedge Beasts, and their ilk - and Changelings themselves are the source of many more.
>>
File: Low-Wyrd Fairest.jpg (63 KB, 774x1032)
63 KB
63 KB JPG
>>931717
Beings like the domovoi or heroes like True Thomas the Rhymer are believed by Changelings (with almost certain accuracy) to refer to heroic and loyal members of their own kind. The thing with fairy tales, as well, is that they have rules - and those who follow those rules can avoid destruction, or even profit greatly from their troth.

Ultimately, the True Fae are as they do. Aside from their universal weakness to iron, which they hate and fear as they hate and fear nothing else, no Fae is quite like any other, even if they seem so. One might be described as cruel or kind (in comparison to its peers), as intelligent, wise, old, young, greedy, and more, but those qualities are seated in something that has no soul and never will, that has never been human and has no real frame of reference for humanity.

Even the kindness of the True Fae, offered without a shred of malice or intention for harm, can destroy the lives of those they touch. Like a young boy with a colony of ants, too often the Fae reach in with the best of intentions only to get distracted and delighted by the misery and destruction they left in their wake.

The Others are not good. Not ever.
>>
>>931725
> dat pout
I want to pinch those cheeks.
>>
>>932338
I'm not surprised, but I am a little let down. It is shockingly difficult to find art for the Fairest that doesn't either fail to capture their fae nature (above) or end up sexualized (or as just outright porn).
>>
>>932415
> or end up sexualized
While not the most blatant thing in the world, those hips are getting up there.
>>
>>932446
It's less that I want to avoid any hint of that at all and more that it tends to get overdone and over emphasized by the fan base, who leave behind both the unsettlingly inhuman elements of the Fairest's Miens, but also the complex psychological and behavioral fallout displayed by the Seeming.
>>
>>
File: 1320219949042.jpg (45 KB, 500x749)
45 KB
45 KB JPG
>>
File: 1332098840050.jpg (515 KB, 477x977)
515 KB
515 KB JPG
>>
File: 1338756405923.jpg (183 KB, 1118x918)
183 KB
183 KB JPG
>>
File: 1339685901381.jpg (331 KB, 595x842)
331 KB
331 KB JPG
>>
File: 1339793844485.jpg (208 KB, 900x1367)
208 KB
208 KB JPG
>>
File: 1342999967270.jpg (200 KB, 1000x785)
200 KB
200 KB JPG
>>
File: 1357311082151.jpg (305 KB, 895x615)
305 KB
305 KB JPG
>>
File: 1363197022589.jpg (92 KB, 518x800)
92 KB
92 KB JPG
>>
File: 1367853879389.jpg (58 KB, 500x708)
58 KB
58 KB JPG
>>
File: 1404107703524.jpg (343 KB, 650x919)
343 KB
343 KB JPG
>>
File: 1404109372380.jpg (403 KB, 800x1132)
403 KB
403 KB JPG
>>
File: 1448947987169.png (2.53 MB, 1405x1500)
2.53 MB
2.53 MB PNG
>>
God damn your Changeling-related art dump is frighteningly comprehensive.
>>
File: 1477503306831.jpg (136 KB, 736x981)
136 KB
136 KB JPG
>>
File: 1477504304189.jpg (435 KB, 1346x859)
435 KB
435 KB JPG
>>933097
If I could draw half as well as I write - and I can draw, just not well - it would be more so.

This is a small selection from one of my folders of collected mosntrosities.
>>
File: 1478538442459.jpg (199 KB, 700x1127)
199 KB
199 KB JPG
>>
>>
File: Aloof as the Cat.jpg (348 KB, 701x828)
348 KB
348 KB JPG
>>
File: Blue Roses.jpg (70 KB, 495x700)
70 KB
70 KB JPG
>>
>>
File: garrm.jpg (1.1 MB, 3248x2159)
1.1 MB
1.1 MB JPG
>>
>>
File: S13_art.jpg (413 KB, 532x956)
413 KB
413 KB JPG
>>
>>
>>
File: 5-image009.jpg (164 KB, 896x1388)
164 KB
164 KB JPG
>>
>>
File: 1392753633591.jpg (46 KB, 500x617)
46 KB
46 KB JPG
>>
File: 1392987997228.jpg (670 KB, 777x1665)
670 KB
670 KB JPG
>>
File: 1395107466811.gif (1.9 MB, 440x248)
1.9 MB
1.9 MB GIF
Careful with this one.
>>
File: 1396455840773.jpg (265 KB, 1191x670)
265 KB
265 KB JPG
>>
File: 1397328365475.jpg (27 KB, 800x600)
27 KB
27 KB JPG
You can tell me this one isn't related, and I still won't believe you.
>>
File: 1400258993913.jpg (74 KB, 458x550)
74 KB
74 KB JPG
>>
File: 1404669398698.jpg (250 KB, 837x627)
250 KB
250 KB JPG
>>
File: 1409489759997.jpg (916 KB, 665x850)
916 KB
916 KB JPG
>>
>>933203
I've eaten these! They're surprisingly delicious.

The thread has been archived under Scarred By Thorns Quest, including the New Avalon tag that'll make it appear in the archives for Cinderella Sanction. We are still open for questions, comments, discussion, feedback, and criticisms.

You can also look forward to DLQ resuming tomorrow.

And seriously folks don't be shy with the art if you've got it, especially if you can nail that kinda inhuman, just-off-kilter beauty the Fairest are meant to have.
>>
File: 1410016959819.jpg (312 KB, 620x913)
312 KB
312 KB JPG
>>
File: 1412997289752.jpg (3.02 MB, 2136x3216)
3.02 MB
3.02 MB JPG
>>
File: 1414415982821.jpg (628 KB, 827x1169)
628 KB
628 KB JPG
>>
File: 1434351661550.jpg (78 KB, 637x900)
78 KB
78 KB JPG
>>
File: 1436803938717.jpg (244 KB, 773x1000)
244 KB
244 KB JPG
>>
File: 1438207948490.jpg (348 KB, 720x900)
348 KB
348 KB JPG
>>
File: 1441409761455.jpg (840 KB, 1462x1033)
840 KB
840 KB JPG
I don't usually collect men, so take these few as a rare treat.
>>
File: 1441409830953.jpg (719 KB, 827x1169)
719 KB
719 KB JPG
>>
File: 1441645364243.jpg (123 KB, 600x959)
123 KB
123 KB JPG
>>
File: 1444194260254.jpg (384 KB, 1600x928)
384 KB
384 KB JPG
>>
File: 1463059902420.jpg (71 KB, 634x422)
71 KB
71 KB JPG
>>
File: 1463966956996.jpg (259 KB, 2000x1081)
259 KB
259 KB JPG
>>
File: 1464600045170.jpg (254 KB, 1280x800)
254 KB
254 KB JPG
>>
File: 1464600316188.jpg (264 KB, 1920x1440)
264 KB
264 KB JPG
>>
File: 1464621069620.jpg (168 KB, 1000x1000)
168 KB
168 KB JPG
>>
File: Face.jpg (993 KB, 1920x1080)
993 KB
993 KB JPG
This is my favorite wallpaper.
>>
File: 1470173097307.jpg (392 KB, 1037x2300)
392 KB
392 KB JPG
>>
File: 1471981977633.jpg (702 KB, 1680x1074)
702 KB
702 KB JPG
>>933326
Stolen
>>
File: 1473660423953.jpg (130 KB, 1280x813)
130 KB
130 KB JPG
>>
>>933233
I'm not surprised that you have the needlessly over-waifu dullahan, but somehow I am still let down.
>>
And lastly, my favorite dead-eyed warrior....

....because white and fair haired and cool=/=good.
>>
>>933232
Right, all these powers that Changelings have affinities with based on their Seeming: most appear rather easy to figure out by their titles, but are there any weird ones? Powers that don't represent exactly what it says on the tin?
>>
File: Teeth.jpg (108 KB, 500x608)
108 KB
108 KB JPG
>>933362
She actually snuck in by accident.

Into this dump that is.

Besides, she's an elf dullahan. How many of those do you see?

Here's a mask to make up for it.
>>
File: Pure or Corrupt.jpg (279 KB, 1920x1357)
279 KB
279 KB JPG
>>933371
I am fail.
>>
>>933397
This isn't hitting my trypophobia, but it's close.
>>
>>933389
Separation provides the Fairest with limited exemptions to reality, allowing them to walk on falling leaves, walk unharmed through gunfights, and even turn incorporeal.

Contracts of Den aid in defending and violating hospitality. Contracts of the Wild affect growth and weather for your benefit.

Contracts of Forge, my personal favorite, let their users edit reality. They turn objects into other objects, let you edit in features that could have been in your environment but weren't (imagine pulling aside a rug to reveal a trapdoor that wasn't actually there but is now) and call gates to the Hedge.

There are many more Contracts and most are universal in nature. The only ones that come close to exclusivity are the Court Contracts.
>>
File: ragyo.jpg (97 KB, 1440x1080)
97 KB
97 KB JPG
She seems... Fairest.
>>
>>935101
No, that's just an anime slut.
Try again.
>>
>>935181
Actually...

It's not necessarily a bad direction to go looking?

The Fairest are only rarely conventionally beautiful. Their Miens are attractive, yes, but they have inhuman elements that can be disquieting and are certainly never quite possible. The exaggerated curves, improbable anatomy, and wide, too-colorful eyes of many anime characters are cute on a screen but imagine them on a real person, among others who look more natural.

That's not to say we can't do better here but the pic is not outside the bounds of the aesthetic.
>>
>>935237
The Lord of Painted Glass comes to mind. Beautiful, in a dangerous and alien way.
>>
File: 1427771274118.jpg (109 KB, 574x1100)
109 KB
109 KB JPG
>>935237
Too far from human?
>>
>>935508
Much too, but I'll save that in case I wanna do some flower sprite hobs later.

Pic related is a canon Bright One Fairest. Aside from her eyes (those are from her Title), you'll note that despite her high Wyrd she seems mostly human...except for the halo of lights and the fact that, as thin as she is, she should be literally dead.
>>
File: 1393961797032.jpg (160 KB, 664x900)
160 KB
160 KB JPG
>>935513
>>
>>935513
The shoulders and collar bone are weird, but the rest of her looks okay. Like she has a petite frame, not emaciated.

I wonder how different it would be for kids who've been taken, as opposed to adults. Get `em while they're young?
>>
File: 1332908966477.jpg (189 KB, 626x853)
189 KB
189 KB JPG
>>
>>935525
Yeah, that's nice. We've got the inhuman eyes (and the nicely arrogant expression of distant contempt), the suggestion of filigree on her body being hidden by the robes. The overly formal/done-up look is also good - while this is by no means a rule, many Fairest dress to project or accentuate a particular look, both for the obvious reasons of effect, presence, or fashion awareness, and also because they try to make their own lives as beautiful as they can to remind themselves that the Fairest of Lands isn't the only place they can find joy and wonder.

I'ma save this. If someone submitted it to me as character art, I wouldn't be surprised to see her as a low-Wyrd Fairest in the Autumn Court.
>>
File: 1443070825918.jpg (285 KB, 707x1000)
285 KB
285 KB JPG
>>935529
It's far from good, but, then, everything about becoming a Changeling is far from good. The True Fae do, at times, take infants from their cribs, sometimes as early as childbirth, sometimes as late as four years old. These stolen children have a high mortality rate (the True Fae are terrible caregivers on a good day) and the ones that do survive and grow up Arcadia never escape on their own cognizance; their connection to the Fairest of Lands is as strong, if not stronger, than their connection to Earth. Those that get taken out with older Changelings during mass uprisings or daring escapes have a tendency towards sociopathy and reacting to stress by wandering, especially wandering into the Hedge. Many die; most of those that live wind up going back to Arcadia. The stories can be different sometimes, especially if the young Changeling is taken back to Earth before the "parenting" of the True Fae can savage their sense of empathy, but even then you're talking about someone who never knew what it's like to be human and may never care to. They would be as alien to their peers as a hobgoblin is.

As children get older, between the ages of six and sixteen or so, the story changes. Hunting them is more of a challenge; they can alert adults, escape on their own cognizance, and sometimes even trick the Fae that are after them. Of course, most desired by the Fae are inevitably stolen away, but with roots in the mortal world and memories of loved ones and loved places to hold onto, these children retain more of their humanity. That they "grow up" into the kind of violent survivors that Changelings become is not surprising, and a tendency to cling to caregiver figures or to be and remain persistently emotionally immature is present, but for the most part such children are old enough to form relationships with their fellow slaves, to be taught how to survive their Keepers, and even to escape under their own power. On returning to Earth, many have their hearts broken - they try to return to their loving families, only to find they were never missed. For many, it sours their hearts for the rest of their lives and leads them to spurn their past in favor of their fellow Lost. It's not usually a healthy reaction, but their peers have a hard time condemning it.
>>
File: 348967594.png (69 KB, 300x162)
69 KB
69 KB PNG
>>935532
Nice. Good for a particularly changed Shadowsoul, or for a high-Wyrd Darkling that's fair of form (the ugly ones get the press, which is just how the more comely Darklings prefer it).
>>
>>935513
>and the fact that, as thin as she is, she should be literally dead.
Aside from the shoulder area, that looks within tolerances for somebody on an extreme (, stupid, and very unhealthy) weight loss regime. That could easily be because of the slutty dress obscuring details of her sides, but if so that's an art error.
>>
>>935623
Her rib/chest area is also painfully thin to the point where you can make out her skeletal structure. Liz Malloy's not...doing...well.

Well, actually she's doing better than ever now that Arthur and Ramona have made her their personal project but that's neither here nor there.
>>
File: 1270884887741.jpg (25 KB, 550x564)
25 KB
25 KB JPG
Probably the last image I have that might be suitable. Probably not a True Fae.
>>
>>935640
> Mary, you can't - just - okay, Mary, stop ordering strawberry sundaes.
> It happened again didn't it
> Children are crying, Mary.
> God damn it.
>>
>>935634
>Her rib/chest area is also painfully thin to the point where you can make out her skeletal structure.
This is, while not remotely healthy, somewhat common among idiots who buy into the "absurdly thin is beauty" nonsense of modern body-image fashion advertisement. I can go to the beach and see dozens of women with visible ribs. It's not a good thing, sure, but it's easily survivable.
>>
>>936099
Well, fair enough. As a point, that is, the shit's still fucked up.

DLQ will be resuming shortly. This thread remains open for further questions/comments/discussion.
>>
File: 1447650638349.png (62 KB, 297x173)
62 KB
62 KB PNG
And Dungeon Life Quest is live aga

>>936577
>>936577
>>936577
>>936577

Again, this thread remains open.



Delete Post: [File Only] Style:
[Disable Mobile View / Use Desktop Site]

[Enable Mobile View / Use Mobile Site]

All trademarks and copyrights on this page are owned by their respective parties. Images uploaded are the responsibility of the Poster. Comments are owned by the Poster.