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>>1250706

Less than a day out from Port Steyr, and the Aurora is brought to an ominous stop. You're left to ponder the situation for a few hours, weighing up the merits of leaving your comfortable hospital bed in search of answers, but then Vas arrives and spares you the trouble. He looks more frustrated than troubled, which is a faint comfort – not a disaster, then, but a fresh hurdle. You can deal with hurdles.

“The good news first,” he begins, although he doesn't look like a man with a lot of good news to share, “The Ghoul is looking better now. She'll sail again in due time, although she won't be going anywhere for a while. The bad news is... Captain Taziker radioed in our situation. We were exposed to an unknown being, he said, and that means...”

Wait, you interrupt, you can guess. That means quarantine, right?

“Seems like we'll be enjoying the Ministry's hospitality for a few days,” Vas scowls, “I'll not lie to you, Henryk, this is the last bloody thing I need right now. With what we're carrying...”

The Ministry could be a problem, you agree, but it's too early to jump to any risky conclusions – scurrying about and acting suspicious might end up being more trouble than it's worth. You'll handle the Ministry, you tell him with a level glance, it won't be the first time you've slipped a few dubious items through quarantine.

Vas raises an eyebrow at that, but otherwise makes no comment.

-

Shaking off your aches and pains, leaving the hospital bed behind, you trudge up on deck to meet the arriving Ministry guards. Better that you're there to get the first word in, you figure, and see exactly how long you'll be held up. From your position on the deck, you have a fine view of the Ministry ship approaching alongside the Aurora. The order goes up for a ladder to be dropped, and soon uniformed soldiers are climbing aboard.

Camilla is nowhere to be seen. That might make things a little more difficult.

“Don't think we've got anything to worry about,” Jagoda boasts, emerging to stand beside you, “None of the men have shown any disease problems, not one.”

Not one, you repeat, that sounds... unusual.

“Aye,” Jagoda nods, a trace of her earlier uncertainty returning, “But I figure that wasn't your usual beast we ran into. Maybe the whole damn thing was toxic – killed any contagion that got near it. That's my theory, at least... but I sure ain't gonna tell them that. I'm just a Hunter, let them do the thinking.” Pausing only to slap you on the shoulder, Jagoda swaggers off and leaves you to face the Ministry soldiers alone.

Thanks, you mutter as she departs, you'll handle the rest of this.

>>1250708

What you first notice about the Ministry soldiers that board the Aurora is that they are few in number, far too few to police any kind of quarantine if the crew resisted. They look harried as well, barely prepared for the task at hand. All in all, the impression you get is of something thrown together at the last minute, using whatever resources were at hand. A little bit of disorganisation is fine with you, if it makes them sloppy.

The leader of the Ministry detachment soon gravitates towards you, studying you for a moment from behind their pristine white cloth mask. A woman, with puffy features and unimaginative eyes, she doesn't look like much. The sort of person to follow their orders to the letter, you suspect, and not an inch further.

“I know you,” she says at last, a flat and slightly nasal voice, “Borghild speaks highly of you. Good to see someone reliable on board. I'm Lorrel, I'm here to enforce the quarantine, although...”

Although?

Lorrel narrows her eyes slightly, lowering her voice to match. “Although we're not really looking for any disease. We have no reason to suspect that the ship might be contaminated. We're going to hold you here for a single day, just as a formality,” beneath the mask, her mouth twists into an unhappy frown, “And for... other reasons. It doesn't matter – you'll confirm that there's no disease on board?”

>I can confirm that, yes
>What do you mean “other reasons”?
>So how are things looking over in the Resettlement Area?
>Mind if I ask you a few questions? (Write in)
>Other

>>1250710
>>I can confirm that, yes
>>What do you mean “other reasons”?
More trouble in the Resettlement area then, huh.

>>1250710
>>I can confirm that, yes
>>What do you mean “other reasons”?
>>So how are things looking over in the Resettlement Area?

>>1250710
>I can confirm that, yes
>>What do you mean “other reasons”?
>If it's the Resettlement Area, I can lend a hand. I seem to have built quite a reputation there with the locals.
and by "reputation" I mean "fucker killed all our strongest warriors"

You can confirm that, you tell her simply, no diseases on board.

Lorrel eyes you up for a moment, and you get the uneasy feeling that she's trying to sniff out a lie – whether by simple intuition or the same uncanny ability that many Ministry agents share. The moment passes, and then she tugs down her surgical mask to reveal the rest of her rather unremarkable face. “I see,” she says, “Good to hear. We'll be examining the engine room, of course, but that's all. As you might have noticed, we don't have the resources to cover more ground than that.”

Because all their resources are allocated elsewhere, you guess, something to do with those “other reasons” she mentioned? What exactly did she mean by that, anyway?

“Huh...” Lorrel tugs at one of her earlobes as she thinks, swaying between holding her tongue and airing her grievances. In the end, the urge to voice her complaints wins out. “It's all hands on deck down in Port Steyr, everyone trying to make a good impression. See, we've got important visitors examining the place, checking everything out. They need guards, of course, especially with... things being what they are,” her face twists into a faintly sulky scowl, “And, speaking plainly, they didn't want a ship of rowdy sailors arriving right in the middle of things, making a bunch of noise and fuss.”

That's... a surprisingly petty reason.

“Sure it is, but it's not my place to argue, is it? The top brass wants a perfect inspection, that's what they get,” shrugging heavily, Lorrel glances away from you to shout a few orders across to the soldiers under her command, “Waste of bloody time, honestly, putting on a show like this. Boss wants to get reassigned back down to the south, Danujski wants to be look like he's got everything in the Resettlement Area under control... you know how it is.”

Formalities, just as she said. Speaking of the Resettlement Area, you ask, how are things there? Are they as under control as Dunajski wants them to appear? If there's a problem there, you might be able to step in and help – you've got a bit of a name for yourself in those parts.

“Natives have been quiet lately, real quiet. Course, most of the folk stationed there just think they're planning something nasty,” Lorrel shakes her head, “I don't know. Been there once, and it looks like all the fight has gone out of them. Can't really blame them. Spot of good news, though – one of the natives stepped up, started to help the Ministry garrison with allocating supplies. Been going on a few days, last I heard, and they're not dead yet. Promising start, I'd say.”

The first signs of a fragile peace, you muse, although it's still early days. Plenty of time for things to go wrong.

“Well,” Lorrel pauses, floundering for a moment, “Guess I'd better see the engine room for myself. Do this properly.”

[1/2]

are y'all ready to fight coughLizecough the final Beast?

>>1250782
Don't even joke Anon. I'll be platinum mad. And sad.

>>1250782
Knife wasn't hot around her m8.

>>1250782
>Implying it won't be one of the big wigs that come down here for inspection.

'Noble' Knight after all.

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>>1250759

The day long quarantine passes without incident, and the crew seem to regard it more as a holiday than anything else – a chance to sit back and relax, with no work to be done. Ministry soldiers wander the ship more or less at random, talking with any sailors they meet and going through the motions of taking reports down. Lorrel inspects the engine room, declares that it's all in perfect working order, and then never looks at it again. Overall, the impression is one of time being casually wasted.

Your cabin in the Ghoul goes unsearched, the materials recovered from the Garden of Giants left undiscovered. When the day is over, the Aurora's engines roar back into life and the ship finishes it's approach – gliding slowly into the docks at Port Steyr with the Ghoul towed behind it. There are a few other ships arriving as well, no doubt returning from their own “quarantines”, while a vast Ministry vessel looms nearby. Just as Lorrel said, it seems like they had important guests – only the high and mighty would use such an imposing ship when there wasn't a war going on.

-

“I'm going to arrange for the Ghoul to be brought back south. She needs time in Port Daud before she'll be properly back in action,” Vas tells you, nodding towards the ranks of docked ships, “Hell, I need some time down south before I'll be back in action as well. The whole crew could do with a break.” He smiles grimly at you, little in the way of humour to be seen in his eyes. “Not sure how many of them I'll have left when we get back in business,” he adds, lowering his voice, “This all hit them hard. Now that they've had time to think about it... I've never seen them so quiet. A restless kind of quiet.”

Can't really blame them, you reply, it was tough going up there. Between the Giant and the seabeast...

“When we get back south, I'll need to see about that sale we talked about. The men have earned their wages, and if they do want to quit... I've got a duty to give them something to live on,” his gaze turns deadly serious, “I owe them that much.”

You'll have to see if you've got something worth selling first, you remind him, your contact can see to that. Once you've confirmed the details...

“Sure, sure,” nodding, waving away your concern, Vas starts to leave when he pauses and glances ashore, “Looks like trouble brewing there.”

Following his pointed finger you spot Camilla arguing with a few sailors, their voices raised but not clear enough to make out the individual words. You can guess what most of them might be, though – curses, probably, and the rich profanity of nautical men. Frowning, you start to head ashore.

[2/3]

>>1250824

The argument is already ending by the time you arrive, the sailors slinking off with muttered curses and vicious backward glances. Camilla returns every glare they send her way, challenging them with a cold contempt of her own. When they're out of sight, she sighs and lets some of the tension slip from her shoulders.

So, you ask, what was that about?

“Begging for compensation, if you can believe it. They seemed to think that a day at sea was going to ruin their business, and the Ministry owed them compensation. Some of these bastards will try anything, if they think they can scrape a few coins out of it,” shrugging, she gives you a faint smile, “Good to see you back, Henryk. I hope you're not about to start asking for payment as well, I'd hate to disappoint you.”

No, you assure her, nothing like that.

“Glad to hear it,” pausing, Camilla starts to scratch at the half-healed cut on her cheek before forcing herself to stop, “So what can I do for you?”

>I'm just passing through. Heading back south as soon as I can
>I hear you had an inspection. Everything work out okay?
>I was hoping to see you, actually. Is there anywhere we can talk quietly?
>I had a question for you... (Write in)
>Other

>>1250837
>my life has been so exciting lately I just assumed you'd have something for me to do.

>>1250837
>I hear you had an inspection. Everything work out okay?
>I was hoping to see you, actually. Is there anywhere we can talk quietly?

I trust her enough to tell her about our prize. If it does what we think it does, maybe she might want a dose herself.

>>1250837

>I was hoping to see you, actually. Is there anywhere we can talk quietly?

But would she want to know about it?

>>1250852
We can ask before we tell.

>>1250837
>>I hear you had an inspection. Everything work out okay?
>>I was hoping to see you, actually. Is there anywhere we can talk quietly?

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Actually, you remark, it's more the other way around – considering how exciting your life has been lately, you figured she might have something for you to do.

“For once, you'd be wrong there. Things seem to have settled down lately, especially over in the Resettlement Area. We've got you to thank for that, if I'm being honest – I doubt the situation would be nearly as stable if you hadn't offered assistance. For that, I think the League as a whole owes you thanks,” a weary smile crosses her lips, “Although good luck getting any. Duty is its own reward, after all. Either way, you're going to have to settle for a bit of boredom – I've got nothing I need help with. Plenty of trouble, just none that I can share with you.”

The inspection, you guess, right? You heard about it – did everything work out okay?

“There were no major disasters, which I'm dreadfully thankful for. Most of it was just preening, plump nobles and high ranking Ministry officers parading about and patting themselves on the back for “taming” the north. You'd think they won the war themselves, with how they were going on,” Camilla lets out a hard laugh, “Anyway, they seem satisfied with the shape of things here. I hear they're about ready to give the Resettlement Area an official name, and no doubt Dunajski is going to end up governor.”

What sort of name have they settled on, you ask, it's not going to be Port Dunajski is it?

“I don't think so. I hear they're aiming for something a little more neutral, but there hasn't been an official announcement yet,” waving an indifferent hand, Camilla shakes her head, “It's all politics anyway. Just another way of patting themselves on the back.”

She's in a fine mood today, you consider, but you can't really blame her for it. Between the seabeast and these politics, you can't help but feel like you got off lightly. Forcing an easy smile, you put the issue of the inspection aside. Actually, you tell her, you were hoping to speak with her. Is there anywhere quiet that you can talk?

“Well, looks like we're finished here anyway. Your ship was the last one to come in, so I'm free and clear for the day. We can talk at mine, it's the closest thing to a quiet place we're likely to find around here,” gesturing for you to follow, she starts off down the empty street, “Is there something private you wanted to discuss with me?”

Something like that, you reply vaguely. She doesn't press the issue yet, leaving the pair of you to walk in an easy silence. The streets are only just coming to life again, sailors returning to their favourite bars and taverns as Ministry soldiers return to their ship. Sailors and soldiers both wear the same expressions – weariness and irritation, their patience thin and strained by the inspection.

[1/2]

>>1250896

“Oh,” Camilla remarks as you reach her bleak dwellings, “I might be getting a promotion soon, with a little luck. My... esteemed superior has been trying very hard to get reassigned to the south, so there may be a vacant position coming up. My old job, although considering how I lost the position in the first place...”

Well, you console her, she hasn't shot any more prisoners lately has she?

“Not without filing the proper paperwork first, at least,” she admits, “So that might play in my favour. Oh well, whatever happens will happen. I'm not going to resign in disgust if someone else gets the job.” Shrugging, she once again moves to scratch at her cut.

Better leave it alone, you tell her, it'll never heal if she keeps picking at it.

“I've had my doctor tell me that already. It's going to leave a nasty scar, apparently, and I'm only making it worse,” sighing, she places a cigarette between her lips and strikes a match, “But I assume you're not here to give me health advice – you had something more important to talk to me about, didn't you?”

A moment of silence follows this as you put your thoughts in order. Time to take the plunge, you think. Has she heard anything about Giant's blood, you ask quietly, and what it is said to do? A cure for any illness or ailment, even capable of purging the impurities from a man's blood. If the legends are to be believed at least, you add, legends often say a lot of things.

“I don't pay a lot of attention to myths and legends,” Camilla admits, “But... I suspect that you're not here to talk about folk tales. So – Giant's blood. What about it?”

>It's just a story I heard at sea. I thought it might interest you
>Hypothetically speaking, what would the Ministry do if someone found some of it?
>Would you take a cure like that, if it was found to be safe?
>I claimed some for myself, up north in the Garden of Giants
>This is the situation... (Write in)
>Other

>>1250962
>>I claimed some for myself, up north in the Garden of Giants
>I also claimed a LOT more of a.....tainted....version. It could very well be a bioweapon, and that's if the clean stuff is safe at all.

>>1250962
>>Hypothetically speaking, what would the Ministry do if someone found some of it?
>>Would you take a cure like that, if it was found to be safe?

>>1250962
>Hypothetically speaking, what would the Ministry do if someone found some of it?

Hey Moloch, can we at least suggest a name for Port Tyrant?

>>1250962
>Hypothetically speaking, what would the Ministry do if someone found some of it?
>Would you take a cure like that, if it was found to be safe?

>Other
"Hypothetically if I had gone on some adventure to find some would you want to hear about it? And if you did could you keep it a secret?"

If yes
>I claimed some for myself, up north in the Garden of Giants
>Tell story

If no
>Don't tell

>>1250980

>We may get the chance to suggest a name soon, yes.

>>1250994
Good, because I already have one.

Hypothetically speaking, you begin slowly, what would the Ministry do if it became known that someone had found some it? Especially, you add, if “finding it” involved sailing into uncertain waters and encountering strange beasts.

“Hypothetically speaking,” Camilla repeats, a faint smile forming on her face.

Sure, you nod, in an entirely hypothetical scenario.

“Hmm,” narrowing her eyes slightly, Camilla exhales a thin cloud of smoke, “I wonder. First of all, they'd probably confiscate any of this blood and keep it sealed away. Maybe they'd perform their own tests on it, although I think they'd be very careful. As for what they'd do to the finder...” Shaking her head slowly, she taps ash into an empty cup. “Legally speaking, it would be an open and shut case. Bringing unknown biological substances back to civilisation without prior permission. That's a long time in the dungeons, if they didn't go straight for the death penalty. But, if this cure does what you say it does... I think allowances might be made.”

Of course, you muse with a cynical smile, so long as they get the benefit of it.

Camilla just shrugs, as if asking what else you expected.

But if this cure does work safely, you ask, would she take it?

“Would I take an illicit biological substance, you mean, for some possible health benefit?” still smiling faintly, she considers her answer, “In this entirely hypothetical situation... yes, I think I might. I dare say that most would – who would turn down the chance for a little extra time?”

And again, hypothetically speaking, if you had gone on an expedition to find some Giant's Blood – an expedition that had proven to be successful – would she be interested in hearing about it? More importantly, would she be willing to keep it a secret?

“I'm starting to suspect that all these hypothetical questions might be rooted in something a little more... substantial,” stubbing out her cigarette with a hard motion, Camilla meets your eye, “But you wanted to speak in private, and so we'll keep this between the two of us. Anything you say here, hypothetical or otherwise, won't leave these four walls. Is that what you wanted to hear?”

Exactly what you were wanting, you agree, because she was right – these weren't just hypothetical questions. You claimed some of the fabled blood for yourself, up north in the Garden of Giants. Some pure, and a great deal of... less certain purity. A tainted version, something that might very well be a dangerous weapon – assuming that the pure version isn't dangerous either.

Leaning back, Camilla lets out a low whistle. “I'm willing to bet that there's a fine story there,” she decides, “Like I said, this stays between us... so what happened up there?”

She's right, you reply with a nod, it's a fine story – and something of a long one.

[1/2]

>>1251062

“Quite frankly, I'm amazed that you found someone mad enough to sail up that far” Camilla says when your tale comes to a close, “Most captains I've heard from would rather cut their own throats than risk sailing northwards like that. The ones who try it don't tend to return. I suppose you have your ways, Henryk – you always do have something up your sleeve.”

You've got a lot of interesting friends, you tell her, and she's not wrong – you like to keep a few ideas ready for circumstances like these.

“So, realistically speaking, what are you going to do with this blood? You said it yourself, a good part of it might be tainted – it might be worthless, dangerous even!” she folds her arms firmly, “I don't need to tell you how much of a danger it might be. You're not going to do anything foolish, like drinking some with no prior research, are you? I know that you're... I know that you have less time than I do, but it's not worth risking the time you have left.” Her voice softens a little as she says this, and her posture eases to match.

Don't worry, you assure her, you had no intention of casually experimenting with this stuff. You know an expert, you'll get his input before deciding anything. If it turns out to be spoiled, well... so be it.

“Another interesting friend, I suppose. I'm glad that you've got something planned, but-” cutting herself short, Camilla snaps her fingers, “Damn it, I almost forgot! Someone – another old friend, you could say – heard that you were in the area. They gave me this, to give to you.” Rising, Camilla takes a thick slip of card from a desk drawer and holds it out to you. Taking it, you glance down at the neatly typed note.

“I hope you can give an old man the pleasure of your company,” the note reads simply, “Show this note to the guards at the ship. They will know what to do.”

An old friend, you say to Camilla, is that right?

“Friend, business partner, whatever you want to call him,” smiling humourlessly, Camilla lights a fresh cigarette, “He was here, probably the only part of this inspection who really cared about important matters. You know how he felt about the north, after all.”

Berdan Loch, you think, the man who wished to see the north brought to heel. His command led to Operation Regicide and the White Tyrant's death, and his covert actions led you to Yvette Saive.

“An old friend”, indeed.

>Accept the invitation. You've got some catching up to do
>Decline the invitation. Your business with him is over
>Other

>>1251107
>Accept the invitation. You've got some catching up to do

>>1251107
>>Decline the invitation. Your business with him is over
Kinda feels like the type of invitation that is more of an order than a request but I'd still rather not. We did tell him we wouldn't see him again or something. And it's be a shame if we squeezed out some information out of us.

>>1251117
We told him we aren't going to help him on the conspiracy angle anymore.

We didn't cut ties.

>>1251107
>Accept the invitation. You've got some catching up to do

>>1251107
>>Accept the invitation. You've got some catching up to do

This almost feels closer to an order than an invitation, even if it is the most polite order you've ever been given. While it is true that you were finished with Loch's business, you didn't seek to cut ties with the old man completely. So long as this invitation doesn't come with strings attached, it might be nice to catch up a little. Still...

Holding the invitation between two fingers, as if you're holding a poisoned blade rather than a formal invitation, you point it at Camilla. He didn't say anything about having work that needed done, you ask, did he?

“If there was anything, he didn't mention it to me,” Camilla shakes her head, “I'll admit, there's no way of knowing exactly what he might be planning, but it seemed like a sincere invitation to me. A social call, nothing more than that.”

Frowning faintly, you reread the briefly worded invitation before shrugging. What the hell, you decide, it's just an invitation. If he needed you to do some work, he wouldn't have given you the chance to decline it. You'll accept it, and see what he wanted to talk about. It's not often that people seek out “the pleasure of your company”, after all.

-

Camilla starts to return to the Ministry once you part ways, offering paperwork as an excuse. Leaving her to her duties, you head back down to the docks and approach the Ministry ship. Even looking at it from both sides, as many angles as you can, you can't find a name. A faintly ominous touch. In contrast to the unwelcoming vessel, the guards are all too willing to help you – once they see your invitation, of course. With the diligent air of butlers rather than soldiers, they lead you inside the ship and to a bland, unmarked door. Knocking sharply, they turn and march away. When they depart, the door creaks open to reveal the old man you had been expecting to see.

Berdan Loch, you notice, seems to have aged several years since you last saw him. His eyes are sunken, lined with dark shadows, while his skin has a pallor to it. Thick furs and robes cover him from head to toe, and he walks with the brittle pace of a terribly aged man.

“The cold does not suit me, I fear,” he explains, leaning his weight on a sturdy cane and waving for you to enter, “But I had to see this place for myself. I never thought that I might live to see it.”

To see what, you ask, the north in League hands?

“That may be an optimistic assessment,” Loch's eyes glint like coins, “But for now, yes, we hold the north within our grasp. A great achievement, greater than most might believe.”

An achievement bought with a great deal of blood, you remind him quietly, blood spilled on both sides.

[1/2]

>>1251107
>Accept the invitation. You've got some catching up to do

>>1251178

Loch makes no attempt to deny your point, but neither does he acknowledge it with anything more than a slight nod. Sitting down in a high backed chair – he sits silently, but a fleeting look of relief touches his features as he does so – Loch pours out hot tea into two delicate cups. Sipping slowly at his own cup, he nods to the other. You sit opposite him, but you make no move to drink.

Before he says anything, you warn him, you're not here for business. You told him before that you were done with that line of work, and you meant it. If he needs something done, he'll need to use someone else.

“Oh, you do not need to worry about that. I had no intention of recruiting you for any new business,” again, Loch's eyes flash with a smile his lips will not show, “Which is not to say that there is no business to be done. My work never truly ends, Hunter, but I have no shortage of agents.”

Good for him, you reply coolly, and good for them.

“The League's enemies are being dismantled, piece by piece, and our society is all the safer for it. We can turn our attentions to the south, now that the north has been brought to heel,” with a light, almost indifferent tone, Loch continues, “I understand that you have greatly assisted our efforts here at the Resettlement Area. My thanks, Hunter, for everything that you have done.”

You didn't do it for him, you think to yourself. Rather than saying anything aloud, though, you just nod for him to continue.

“The Resettlement Area...” Loch muses, “A poor name, fit only for a temporary establishment. Nothing has been decided yet, but names are being considered. Port Ibarra seems to be a popular choice, named for a young officer who died heroically in the battle. A young officer with rather notable pedigree, I should say. Important family – you understand how this works, I don't doubt.”

>All too well. A good enough name, I suppose
>So, how does it feel to have the north brought to heel?
>I had a name of my own to suggest... (Write in)
>I had something I wanted to ask you... (Write in)
>Other

>>1251227
>So, how does it feel to have the north brought to heel?

>What are your plans for the South?

>>1251227
>>So, how does it feel to have the north brought to heel?
>>I had a name of my own to suggest... (Write in)
Port Isten, I think is his name. That's my suggestion anyway.

>>1251004
Guy pls, where'd ya go

>>1251251
supporting

>>1251251
I mean I like Isten, but naming the Port after him again?

Who was the enemy in this regard as opposed to a alleged heroic officer?

Don't know how well that'll fly.

>>1251251
>>1251227
PORT SAIVE

>>1251264
Did anyone know his name though? Most, myself included, know him by Tyrant I think.

>>1251227
Alternatively, Port Ibarra and The Tyrants Docks?

Otherwise I'll second Port Isten. A reminder to the north that they are Men.

>>1251269
So either it's a random name against one with some value or it's a enemy's name against a hero's name.

Not trying to harp on you just I don't know if it'll go through.

Maybe instead of after someone we do something a little more symbolic?

Since it's the Resettlement area of the northerners, maybe something to do with their culture so they aren't being completely alienated? What that could be I don't know. All I know is barbarians and witchcraft from them.

>>1251280
I don't really know myself. It was half a joke name since I figured that other guy would have some amazing name that would make mine seem properly silly.

>>1251289
Standard isn't it? The one guy who wanted a big stake in this can't make it to the vote.

>>1251280
IDK using the name the Tyrant abandoned is kind of nice and symbolic. A reminder that they're just men like any other, that their titles and such don't set them apart from us.

I kind of like it. Keeps the name from being a rallying point for political groups on either side, while being pointed enough that involved groups who are "in the know" can be satisfied with its deeper meanings.

>>1251324
Yeah I can get behind that.

>joke suggestion ends up being liked
This feels weird.

Rising from the chair, you glance about the dimly lit chamber. On one wall, a great map of the northern territories has been framed – not so dissimilar from the one Vas has aboard the Ghoul, in fact. Studying it for a while, you turn back to Loch and glance to the map. So, you ask him, how does it feel to have the north brought to heel at long last?

“I believe that many in the Free States will be able to sleep easier, knowing that there are no barbarian armies massing in the north,” Loch replies simply, “That peace of mind is-”

You weren't asking about that, you correct him quietly, you asked about how he feels. Much of his life has been leading to this point, how does it feel to have finally achieved that goal?

“An interesting question,” Loch takes a small drink of tea, pondering the issue, “In truth, it feels less impressive than I had hoped. There was no uplifting moment of victory or rousing triumph, but make no mistake – I do not regret any of this. A quiet satisfaction, that is enough for me. Perhaps I am too old for celebrations, or perhaps the cold simply saps my enthusiasm.” Gesturing to the map with his teacup, Loch meets your eye. “Regardless, Hunter, my feelings in this matter are irrelevant,” he decides, “We are both cogs in a greater machine, and we have played our parts magnificently. That, I feel, will be enough.”

His quiet determination, as hard and unwavering as tempered steel, hushes you for a moment. What about the south, you ask, where does it fit into this machine of his?

“Ultimately, the final goal is the same. Uniting the colonies under our banner, as a part of our noble civilisation. If that means the erasure of certain native superstitions... I am willing to accept that. The League must always move forwards, not cower in fear of primitive folklore,” a faintly chilling note enters Loch's urbane voice, an uneasy reminder of the influence he wields, “Would you not agree, Hunter?”

With all due respect, you reply in a slow and careful voice, that's not an easy question for you to answer – and not necessarily a safe one, either.

“Then we shall talk of safer things,” Loch rises painfully to his feet, lurching over to the map and tapping it with a withered finger, “Port Ibarra... I must admit, I remain unconvinced. A safe name, yes, an unchallenging one – but boring. Would you name it something different, Hunter?”

You've had a few ideas, you begin with an ironic smile, what about Port Saive?

“An amusing prospect, but I fear that they forfeited any claim they might have once had,” Loch touches a finger to his chin, “Let them be forgotten. Another relic consigned to the dust of history.”

[1/2]

>>1251358

Port Isten then, you suggest, it has something of a nice sound to it.

“Isten? I don't know the name,” Loch looks around at you, curiosity glinting in his eyes, “Does it have some meaning to you, Hunter?”

Not to you, you reply, but it does mean something to the northerners. It's one of their names, belonging to a... a folk hero, perhaps. A figure from their culture, one that commanded a great deal of respect. It would be a show of good faith, choosing a name that shows a certain respect for their culture. A little bit of good will could go a long way to defusing any future tensions, and bringing the two groups closer together.

“You raise an interesting point, Hunter, and I can see a certain value in it. Of course, it may be hard to sell it to the other officials involved – they have an equal say in deciding this. However, I will raise the possibility,” nodding slowly, Loch taps the map again, “Port Isten... I wonder. A small compromise that may hasten the integration of the northerners.”

And it's more interesting than Ibarra, you add.

“Yes, I must agree there,” Loch actually laughs at this, although it's really more of a wheeze.

-

Conversation limps along for a while after this, with neither of you sharing enough common ground to sustain a proper discussion. There's a certain mutual respect between the two of you, but nothing that spills over into over friendship. In the end, you're just too different. Sensing that your time here has reached its end, you make your excuses and prepared to leave. Before you can go, Loch finally comes to the subject you'd been expecting all along.

“I said before that my work is never finished,” Loch tells you slowly, “And I did not lie, Hunter. Even now, there are scattered remnants of our southern conspiracy. Decapitated and mindless, they pose no real threat to us – but they remain, like splinters digging into flesh. In time, they will be rooted out and destroyed.”

You expected nothing less, you reply, but he'll have to do it without you.

“Indeed. But should you stumble across one of these splinters...” a pause as Loch coughs, a thick and sickly sound, “I trust that you will report it to the proper authorities.”

A cold smile and a wordless nod, that's your only answer.

-

“Henryk!” Vas calls out as you're strolling out onto the docks, “How did you know I was looking for you?”

Blind luck, you reply, why was he looking for you?

“I've found us a ship, heading south tomorrow morning and willing to tow the Ghoul along with it,” Vas gestures across to one of the hulking ships, “It's not fancy, but it's reliable and there's enough time for us to settle any business here. What do you think?”

>Sounds good. I'm ready to leave anyway
>I'll meet you there. I've got something to take care of... (Write in)
>Other

>>1251383
>>Sounds good. I'm ready to leave anyway

>>1251383
>>Sounds good. I'm ready to leave anyway
Think we're all wrapped up here for now.

>>1251383
>Sounds good. I'm ready to leave anyway

>>1251383


>Sounds good. I'm ready to leave anyway

Sounds good, you reply with a nod, you've finished all of your business here anyway. You could have left now, if the ship was ready.

“Well, that might be expecting a little too much,” Vas laughs, “The damn ship might as well be empty right now, the crew are all handling their own “important” business.”

Drinking, you guess, right?

“Drinking,” your old friend agrees, “Catching up on lost time, they'd call it. Well, if you've got nothing else to do, and if I've got nothing else to do... how about finding a good bar?” Laughing, he slaps you on the shoulder and starts to steer you away. Offering only a token resistance, you let him guide you away.

-

In the end, you don't just settle for one good bar. Instead, you roam from one to the other until you bump into Jagoda and a bustling gang of her loyal crew. They're already mindless with rough liquor and exhilaration, eagerly belting out drinking songs and throwing dice. Jagoda leads them well, matching even the burliest one of them drink for drink and urging them on to greater heights. All too aware of how much you'll regret it later, you allow yourself to get swept up in the festivities.

What the hell. You've earned it.

-

Morning finds you grim and shuddering, feeling so frail that Loch would seem like a fit man by comparison. As part of a procession of bleak men, all hideous expressions and hopeless airs, you shuffle aboard the southbound ship and find your appointed cabin. Everything you brought with you is here, the sealed specimen cases containing the Giant's blood safe and sound. Pausing only to check each one in turn – briefly escaping your hangover by sinking into obsessive care – you grunt with satisfaction. Precious cargo, indeed.

But now, you're exhausted. A night of debauchery has left your eyelids drooping low and heavy, while your body cries out for exhaustion. Lying back on the hard, lumpy bed, you fumble out your flash of mazka and give it a shake, listening to the liquid slosh within. With the grim resolve of a man taking bitter medicine, you throw back a mouthful of the burning liquor and close your eyes. It's about time you checked in with Revelle, and thanked her for everything that she did. She promised to protect you in the north, and she fulfilled that promise to the letter. So, feeling the world twist with that unique, familiar feeling, you prepare yourself for her lively voice.

What you hear instead is a low murmur, followed by the feeling of some great strength pulling you down into the abyss.

Nihilo.

>I'm going to pause things here for today. I'll pick things up tomorrow, and I can stick around in case of any questions or comments
>Thanks to everyone who contributed today!

>>1251434
Thanks for running Moloch

>>1251434
Thanks for running Moloch. Looks like we'll get to chat with both Revelle and Arty next time. See what she was to say and how giddy she is that we're almost done. Or how upset she is that we couldn't take down the giant with ease.

>>1251434
Partying still counts when we don't drink Mazka right?

>>1251454

I'd say it would. The original, ritualised festivities were required to get the spirit's attention and draw them in. Now that Revelle is essentially "following" us about, we wouldn't need to drink mazka for her to notice. We wouldn't be able to interact with her, that's the only real difference.

>>1251472
.....so. Did Artemis eat Revelle?

>>1251695
She's on a diet

>>1251732
ah, so she only ate HALF of Revelle!

>>1251748

There playing nicely

>>1251258
Sleep, bad timing and all that.

>>1251289
What I had in mind was Port Fenrir, but it's too late for that now, fortunately you came to the rescue.

>>1252697
Oooh. That's a cool name.

File: Nihilo.jpg (204 KB, 2400x1374)

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If you had been hoping to leave your hangover behind in the real world, where it belonged, you would have been sorely disappointed – but even that small hope had been beyond you. When you open your eyes in Nihilo, they are still the aching eyes of a man regretting his previous indulgences. That Nihilo's sky is dark and oddly soothing is only a small mercy, but the only mercy afforded to you. Rubbing your clammy brow, you force yourself to sit up.

Searching your memory, you try and recall if you've ever felt quite so poorly in Nihilo before. It seems... wrong somehow, like a violation of some contract you don't recall signing. As you rub your eyes, an eager voice – far too eager for when you're in this kind of state - reaches you.

“That was some party last night, wow!” Revelle announces, emerging from behind you and clapping her long sleeves together, “I knew you were going to be a lot of fun!”

Huh, you mumble, she was there?

“Oh sure, I've been with you all along. Maybe not perched on your shoulder like that bird of yours, but close. Always close – you just didn't notice me!” planting her hands on her hips, Revelle strikes a defiant pose, “But that's fine, I won't hold it against you. I had fun either way!”

She pauses after that, still holding that pose as if expecting you to lavish praise upon her. While she deserves her fair share of praise, something about her causes you to stop a moment. She looks a little... different. Her yellow silks seem more ragged than before, while her lips and chin – more or less the only parts of her skin left visible – have a slightly ashen hue to them. Overall, she resembles someone suffering from a great many hours without sleep.

“Hah, don't you worry about me!” flapping her sleeves at you, Revelle forces a laugh, “It'll take more than a little bit of moonlight to get the better of the strongest spirit in the land, you can bet on that!”

But it did take a lot out of her, you muse, didn't it? It worked her hard, maybe harder than she had been expecting, and now she's only just recovering her strength... is that it?

“Well, uh, I guess that's one way of putting it,” Revelle shuffles in place, her confidence dented by the admission – the mere suggestion – that she might have struggled, “But hey, we won in the end, didn't we? We took every punch they could throw at us, and we paid them back twice over! I did good, didn't I?” By the end of her little speech, she's practically jumping up and down in place

Yeah, you admit after a pause, she did good. She did real good.

“Yessss!” the spirit pumps a fist in glee before turning away from you and running further into the abyss, her arms stretched out like ragged wings and her laughter trailing behind her.

[1/2]

File: Artemis.jpg (72 KB, 540x576)

72 KB JPG

>>1254046

Following Revelle as she races away, you find your eye drawn to the looming Giant. It rests on one knee, with the ruin of its head bowed low, remaining stubbornly motionless as Revelle starts to scrabble and climb up its craggy body. Her laughter rings like distant bells, but soon the sound of it fades into the distance. Your attention is drawn elsewhere, stolen by a slow and graceful motion. Sitting up like a corpse rising from their funeral slab, Artemis casts a curious glance around her prison.

She almost seems to be regarding it for the first time, with a fresh and uncomprehending eye, but then the familiarity returns. She sighs heavily, and lies back down.

“I had a dream,” she murmurs, voice reaching you with shocking clarity, “I can't remember if I've ever done that before.” Opening one eye as you approach, Artemis sighs again and tries to explain. “I was... somewhere warm, somewhere dark,” picking her words with care, Artemis furrows her brow as she tries to remember, “I could hear birds, I think. That's... that's all I can recall. It's all so strange.”

Dreams tend to be, you agree, sometimes you dream of a strange place full of strange creatures.

“Very funny,” Artemis breathes, the corners of her lips lifting in a smile even as a flicker of concern shows in her open eye, “You look awful, Henryk.”

Probably, you think to yourself, because you feel awful. Again, you have to wonder about the reasons behind that, and whatever they might suggest. This place, this abyss, has never felt closer to reality than it does now... or perhaps the opposite is nearer to the truth. A sign that this long road is coming to a close?

Maybe. Or maybe not.

As you think to yourself, Artemis slowly rises – not with the fragile gait of a cripple, but almost as if moving through deep water. Her flowing robes whisper with the motion but that is the only sound she makes for a moment, her silence broken by a soft rush of breath. “I'm awake now. This is no dream,” fixing you with her animal eyes, she offers a brief glimpse of sharp teeth as she smiles, “Although it would be a pleasant one...”

Always ready with the flattery, you reply with a low laugh.

“Maybe,” she admits with a coy smile, “But maybe I'm just glad to see you. Shall we talk awhile?”

>There's just one left now. The Noble Knight, isn't it?
>This place is changing, isn't it? I can't quite describe it, but...
>The Giant wasn't exactly a clean kill. Sorry about that
>I wanted to talk, yes... (Write in)
>Other

>>1254049
>>This place is changing, isn't it? I can't quite describe it, but...
>>The Giant wasn't exactly a clean kill. Sorry about that

>>1254049
>This place is changing, isn't it? I can't quite describe it, but...
>The Giant wasn't exactly a clean kill. Sorry about that
Kind of hard when it's a Giant.

>There's just one left now. The Noble Knight, isn't it?
>Any idea where you are going to appear in the real world after I take it down?

>>1254049
>What IS Nihilo? This place is changing, isn't it? I can't quite describe it, but...
>Can you tell me anything about the Giant's corruption?

>>1254049
>This place is changing, isn't it? I can't quite describe it, but...
>The Giant wasn't exactly a clean kill. Sorry about that

>>1254049
>What IS Nihilo? This place is changing, isn't it? I can't quite describe it, but...
>Can you tell me anything about the Giant's corruption?
>Any idea where you are going to appear in the real world after I take it down?

>>1253948
thanks, yours is pretty damn good too, and with a good reason backing it.

Well, you tell her with a nod, you don't mind talking for a little. It's why you're here, after all.

“And there isn't much else to do, is there?” hiding a laugh behind her hand, Artemis takes a few tentative steps forwards – almost as if she is uncertain of how much her body can take, how long it might last out. “Other than my... guests, this place never changes. At least, that was what I always thought. I could never imagine Nihilo as anything other than this abyss.”

But it IS changing, you guess, isn't it? It's not a change that you can easily describe, but it's definitely there.

“You're right, it IS changing – it's dying,” pausing, Artemis glances back to you, “There's not as much difference between those two as you might think. I have something of a... unique perspective on it. All the beasts that come and go from this abyss, they never really die. They take on a new form now and then – although not always – but their hearts were the same. Now, though, I can feel something new ahead of us. I think they can feel it as well.”

She gestures around herself as she says this, and you take in the sights around you. In their own way, the beasts seem uncertain and anxious, lumbering and scuttling with newfound worry. Yvette sits huddled against one side of a lumpen boulder, while Isten leans against the other. They don't speak, but you've never seen them sitting so close together – drawing some faint comfort from the other, even if they might never admit it. The overall impression is one of approaching doom, albeit in a vague and uncertain form.

“I wonder what will happen to this place if I leave,” Artemis muses, “Will it lose its purpose and simply vanish? Maybe it'll linger, like a cell waiting for a new prisoner. What do you think, Henryk?”

You couldn't say, you admit, you don't even know what this place is. Not really.

“Neither do I, truth be told,” Artemis shrugs, “It IS. That's all I've ever really needed to understand. An ancient place that men can touch in their dreams, even if they never realise it. Sometimes, I wonder if it might be inside you – all of your kind. A memory of sorts.”

A memory?

“Of another existence, perhaps one that has been left behind?” offering you a helpless smile, Artemis shrugs again, “I don't know., but whatever it is... it really is changing. The boundaries are growing thin, I think.”

Which is why you're bringing more of your own world here, you consider, all the aches and pains of a physical world.

“And soon, they'll be thin enough for things to pass from this side to yours,” a shiver of delight runs through Artemis, “Oh, I can hardly wait...”

Then she'll appear in your world, you finish, does she have any idea where? Tracking her down might not be easy...

[1/2]

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245 KB JPG

>>1254137

“You know, I think I do know,” nodding slowly, Artemis kneels down and starts to scratch a faint image in the ice. You consider how much effort Isten and Yvette had to put in to mark that ice, and then compare how easily Artemis' nail carves through it. “When I had my dream, I heard birds,” she continues, drawing spreading branches, “That doesn't narrow it down much, does it? Regardless, I think I know. My temple, I think.”

It would make sense, you agree, then that tree...

“Maybe so, maybe so,” shrugging, Artemis stands up to admire her crude drawing, “It's a good place to start looking, at least. We won't know until we're done, will we?”

And that won't be long, you assure her, there's only one left after all. The Noble Knight, wasn't it?

“That's right,” Artemis shudders a little at the sound of their name, her face twisting with disgust, “I said that not all of them took on new forms – only two retained their old shapes. The Giant, although it was never really a Knight in the first place, and... him. Noble. He remains as he once was.”

He hasn't died, you murmur, not ever?

“Everything dies,” the goddess promises you, “It's just a matter of time.”

Her words hang in the air like lead weights for a moment, lingering and menacing. Swallowing back a faint wave of uncertainty, you press on ahead. So where is he, you ask, where can he be found?

“I don't know. At least, I can't tell you. It's all very... hazy, indistinct. An island, I think, but...” sighing, Artemis wilts a little, easing herself down to sit upon a rock, “Looks like I still have a few pieces left to find. I can still help you, though, I just can't give you directions.” shaking her head, she looks back to the Giant. “That can,” she tells you, “But... it doesn't seem keen on sharing.”

Well, you remark as you study the blasted ruin atop the Giant's shoulders, you can think of a pretty good reason for that. It wasn't exactly a clean kill, you add as you glance back to Artemis, sorry about that. You didn't really have much of an alternative, considering.

“It can't be helped,” Artemis offers a weary smile, “I dare say that it was never going to cooperate. Still, it looks... peaceful now, wouldn't you say?”

Studying the Giant again, and trying to ignore the sight of Revelle cavorting atop its broad shoulders, you acknowledge Artemis' words with a nod. It almost looks like it's sleeping, or perhaps even praying. It's a far cry from the raging titan that you fought in the north, that's for sure. Looking at the Giant, a thought strike you. Does she know anything about the Giant's corruption, you ask Artemis, anything she can tell you about it?

“I wonder...” she murmurs, voice trailing off as she thinks.

[2/3]

>>1254174
wait, what about the whale? I thought the whales here were supposedly immortal? Or at least ageless.

>>1254200
Ghruul hadn't died either until now.

Speaking of which where is that whale in Nihilo?

>Sorry for the delay, I had a little trouble finding a way to write this next bit. Working on it now.

>>1254200
>>1254222

>I'll try and explain this a little better IC, but the general idea is that all of the Knights save for Noble and the Giant have died at least once. After dying, they were later reborn in more monstrous forms.
>In Nihilo, Primal resides deep below the ice.

>>1254174

“I don't know...,” Artemis sighs after a while, her voice faint with the effort of dredging up lost knowledge – or trying to, at least, “I don't think there's anything I can tell you, but... why not try asking it for yourself?”

What, you laugh, does she really think it's in any position to answer you?

“Well, maybe not in the usual way, with words. That's not really how they worked,” she shakes her head slowly, “But they CAN communicate, with thoughts and feelings. They share memories and emotions, even printing them onto the world around them. Like... painting, in a strange sort of way.”

Frowning, you recall the flash of memory you felt in the Garden of Giants, the strange recollection you felt when touching the destroyed Giant. It had been a memory, an echo left behind by your quarry. Deliberately so, something left as a warning, or an involuntary act of a broken mind?

So how does it work, you ask, do you just... ask a question?

“Try thinking hard. Focusing on what you want to know, really picture it in your mind,” Artemis offers, “And maybe it'll answer you. What form that answer takes, though... I could not say. It may not even be lucid enough to answer you at all.”

Shaking your head slowly, you carefully approach the motionless Giant, circling it as you consider your questions. Perhaps sensing the seriousness of your situation, Revelle falls silent and watches from above you. When your pacing comes to an end, you stand before the Giant, facing it down and steeling your nerve. Contact with an inhuman being... Artemis was right, you can't be sure of what sort of answer it might give you. Indecisive, you half raise your hand to the looming creature before pausing. With your thoughts racing, it takes a moment to decide what to focus on.

>Nothing. Leave the Giant alone
>The location of the Noble Knight
>The power of their blood
>Something other topic... (Write in)
>Other

>>1254287
>The power of their blood

>>1254258
huh, I thought the ones that haven't been killed just morphed to their current form or something.

>>1254287
>The power of their blood

Then
>The location of the Noble Knight

>>1254287
>The power of their blood
>The nature of the corruption
>Why they set out to hunt Artemis in the first place.

>>1254287
>>The power of their blood
>>The location of the Noble Knight
Power of blood first. If we get lucky and can go again, then Noble.

>>1254314
>>1254287
Also supporting these.

>>1254287
>The location of the Noble Knight
>The power of their blood

>>1254287
supporting this:
>>1254314

>>1254287

>The power of their blood

>>1254287
>>1254314

Closing your eyes, you think hard about the power of the Giant's blood. Asking a simple question over and over in your mind - “what power does its blood hold?” - you reach out and lay your hand flat against the coarse outer hide. Repeating that question a few more times, you wait for an answer to take shape in your mind. It takes a while, long enough that you almost give up and abandon your efforts, but then a strange feeling – a feeling of otherness – descends upon you. Your own thoughts are snuffed out and replaced by-

An image – a familiar building, your tenement block in fact, albeit torn down and ruined. It must have been lying in ruins for a great many years, for it is choked with decaying plants and roving weeds. As you stand frozen in place, the image begins to move. The hideous plants wither and retreat, shrinking back until none can be seen. The building itself remains broken, but it takes on a different air – less of a barren ruin, and more of something with the potential to be rebuilt. Life, you feel, may yet flourish. As that realisation takes form in your mind, the image breaks apart and fades.

Abstract, you mutter to yourself as you recover, but not unreadable. The filthy plants, perhaps representing the corruption of your blood, were banished. The building, perhaps meaning your flesh and bone, remained damaged. So... Giant's blood might not heal all wounds, but it can purify your blood. At least, that's how it seemed to you. Clearing your mind, you focus on a related issue – the corruption of their blood.

A new image. This time, a glass of crystal clear water. As you watch, it quickly grows foul and tainted, a thick skin of filth forming on the top. Not just utterly lifeless and sterile, but equally lethal to anyone who drank it. Yet, the image continues. A single drop of blood falls from above and breaks the surface of the tainted water. As the blood mixes with the foul water, the taint is quickly banished until the water is pure once more. Wait, you wonder as the image dissipates, if you added a small amount of the pure Giant's blood to the impure sample...

“Heeeeeey,” Revelle calls down, leaning over the Giant's shoulder and peering down at you, “Thinking hard?”

You were, you correct her, you were thinking very hard indeed.

“Huuuh? That sounds boring!” the spirit giggles, “You should climb up here, it's real easy. I bet even you could do it!”

Later, you reply, you're not finished here yet. Then, shutting out her faint groan of dismay, you focus on another question. Why, you think firmly, did they set out to hunt Artemis in the first place? What motive did the Giant have?

This time, it takes a little longer for the thoughts to form. The Giant almost seems... uncertain.

[1/2]

>>1254427
>if you added a small amount of the pure Giant's blood to the impure sample...
Oh shit. Guess we got an idea that could give us more than enough pure blood. Giant a nice guy.

>>1254442
Giantdidnothingwrong2017

>>1254427

The image that eventually takes shape in your mind is disarmingly simple, but not the one that you had been expecting. You picture Lize - first glum and sullen, but then carefree and cheerful. Her past life, unhappily lived under the oppressive threat of a bleak future, followed by the brighter life that you were able to offer her. Over both images you feel a linger sense of curiosity, as if the Giant was gazing upon you with questioning eyes.

Alright, you grudgingly admit, good question. You couldn't really say why you helped her at the time either, but it felt like the right thing to do. She never deserved the life she'd been given, and you had the chance to ease her burden. When you feel a faint warmth, one that carries the impression of a slow nod, you realise that the Giant's motives were no different.

Somehow, you get the impression that the Knights were not nearly so charitable.

-

It takes you a few moments after that to clear your mind enough to ask another question. The Noble Knight, you think to the Giant, where is he? Where can you find the Noble Knight? Holding these questions in your thoughts, you lean heavily against the Giant and concentrate. As you clench your eyes that little bit tighter, you feel something pulling you in. Memories draw you in like a whirlpool, pulling you down into an abyss even deeper than Nihilo. When the haze parts, you see...

You find yourself in a great and vaulted building, one long since fallen into ruin and disrepair. The air is heavy with the stench of blood and unwashed flesh, while a cold tension freezes the air. Before you, in loose formation, stand eleven figures. They are familiar to you, but not in form – it is something less definable that they wear about them that you recognise. They are the Knights, in their original and unchanged forms, all splattered with flecks of blood and reeling in uncertain confusion. This is the aftermath of a great battle, you sense, and of a terrible feast.

The silence is broken by a snarl, an obese Knight falling upon his closest companion to slake a sudden hunger. That is the cue for anarchy to descend, each one of the eleven Knights falling upon one another. As they slide into feral depravity, you feel yourself turning away and slowly withdrawing. Around you, frail and broken humans flee the scene, running out into whatever fate awaits them. Just before you leave the ruined building, silence returns and you feel yourself taking a backwards glance.

One man is left standing, his shoulders heaving with the effort of remaining upright. He is surrounded by the bodies of his companions, hacked and torn apart, and he leans on a massive sword.

Turning away, you leave him to this place. Let it be his tomb.

[2/3]

>>1254552
So he's still at the place where they hacked up Artemis.

That's super far up north right?

>>1254552

The image persists.

The fleeing humans have scattered and vanished, perhaps claimed by this terrible place. Heedless of them, you stride on through winding valleys and twisting pathways of rock. Above, never wavering for a moment, the light of the red moon bathes down upon you. It comforts you, that light, although not in a way that makes any sense to your human thoughts. As you walk you feel something stir within you, but it is only just barely noticeable. That will change.

Walking on, you reach the shore and a great ship. Ignoring it, you simply press on and let the waters claim you. Each step you take brings you down, lower and lower beneath the waves. Weight presses down upon you, but that is of little consequence. That restless feeling within you grows stronger with every step you take.

At this depth, the moon cannot reach you.

How long do you spend walking, silently trudging along the bottom of the ocean? A pointless question, and any answer you might get would be equally meaningless. Whatever the distance is, you feel the journey engraving itself upon your heart. There are no landmarks here, but one thing remains clear – you could retrace this journey with your eyes closed, trusting instinct to guide you.

When you finally see moonlight again, you know that your journey home has reached an end. The Garden of Giants stands ready to embrace you, and you feel ready to sleep – to turn away from this world until your time has come once more. When you try to sleep, however, you find it elusive. A darker haze of hate rises up to blanket your thoughts instead. Like never before, you feel a hunger for destruction, an urge to feel blood seeping through your fingers.

With heavy tread, you start to search for your first victim.

-

Pulling back, you fall away from the Giant and let out a ragged gasp. Going so deep into the creature took a lot out of you, leaving you feeling even worse off than before. Your hangover seems like a distant and pleasant memory now, compared with this withering exhaustion. Revelle looks down upon you, her lips pursed with faint disapproval – a very “I told you so” kind of look – but you can't summon the effort to rebuke her.

You'll just... sit here for a while. Sit here and get your strength back. As you slowly feel yourself recover, you consider what you just felt. There's no mistaking it – you could find that island again without a second of doubt. It might not appear on any map, but only because there are no maps that reach so far north. Truly uncharted territory.

Getting there, though...

As you ponder that thorny issue, you feel Nihilo's grip on you weaken slightly. Reality beckons.

>Let yourself wake
>Remain here, and do something else... (Write in)
>Other

>Next post might be a little delayed. Got to take a short pause

Maybe we should ask for its name and the one of each of the original knights. make a small monument in their honors, maybe it'll lessen the sting of being remembered by a trophy kill.

>>1254628
>>Remain here, and do something else... (Write in)
I wanna talk to Isten, see if he has anything to say about the change in Nihilo. Other than that, I don't know much else, that's probably it.

>>1254628
Talk to Artemis about the Giant's motives. Also how her blood apparently made everything feral.

>>1254628
>>Let yourself wake

>>1254632
They were all kind of assholes, even pre-killing Artemis.

>>1254628
>>Let yourself wake

>>1254628
> Tell Isten/Tyrant about the port name

>>1254655
Something bothers me. We keep talking about the giants trying to fix Artemis.

But the Knights themselves were all flawed not just spiritually and psychologically but also physically which seems weird for the Eugenics practising Genetic Purity focused Knights to accept.

Maybe Artemisia was supposed to fix THEM by making them more like the Giants. Blending their physical and metaphysical attributes together to make them more, ironically, "purely" themselves. Archetypes instead of individuals. Kind of like how the Giants turn into trees and treated physical characteristics as expressed concepts with their bodies being separate from their "selves"/blood.

But like inverted.

Why would they do that? Do they see a difference between the race of Knights as a single entity, where perfecting the Beasts was the same as perfecting all Knights? Like how when you carve a statue from a log, you erect the carving and not the shavings. Or to say The Wood Log is now the Wood Statue, not The Wood Statue "and scraps".

>>1254740
I think if I'm not totally off base is Nemesis Giant wanted to help Artemis the only way he knew how: dividing her up to purify her.

The snag was all the Giants that would normally take in the pieces were already trees.

So Nemesis found the next 'best' thing: the Knights. Which didn't work out as planned as we've seen.

>>1254758
That makes a lot of sense. Giant really was best boy.

>>1254758
Or the other way around. He was trying to purify the Knights that had been corrupted but there weren't any other Giants around so he used the next best thing - Artemis.

File: White Tyrant.png (375 KB, 570x570)

375 KB PNG

Scraping together what little strength you were able to gather, you push away the urge to wake. You're not finished here yet. Rising slowly to your feet, grunting with the effort it takes you, you amble away into the abyss. You wander freely for a while, letting your thoughts settle, and eventually your wanderings end in front of Isten Kartja. He regards you in silence for a while, the usual mix of old arrogance and vague hostility flickering across his features.

Good morning, you say eventually. Not much of an opening line, but he wasn't going to offer anything better.

“Is it morning?” he replies, “A meaningless concept, here.”

Well, you admit, true. Back in the real world, though, a new day had only recently begun.

“And here, the day is about to end,” Isten holds your gaze, “Everything is going to end.”

So he's noticed it, then. Anything he can tell you about, you ask, any insights he can offer? Even Artemis can't tell you all that much about things, and you were wondering if he had anything to add.

“Because I am of the north, you think I will have some folk tale to explain everything. Is that what you're trying to tell me?” Isten asks, “Well, southerner?”

A pause, long and awkward. Well, you ask after a while, does he?

“The northern people have countless different sets of beliefs. Folk tales, varieties of faith, teachings... all different, even when tribes have lived close to one another for generations. Still, there are common elements, but the end of the world is not one of them. For northerners, the end can come at any time – as a blade between the ribs, or at the teeth of a wild beast. Few wish to dwell on thoughts of some all-encompassing doom,” the old tyrant sighs, breath rasping out of him, “There are a few tales, mind you. An apocalypse of beasts that would sweep the land clean of all life, heralded by the birth of a horned child. I heard that tale as a child, all those years ago.”

With such a cheerful upbringing, it's no wonder he turned out so well.

“So no, I don't have any explanation to offer you, but I don't need any. I know that this place is ending, just as any man knows when he is dying,” Isten looks around slowly, taking in all the meagre sights that Nihilo has to offer, “What happens after, I cannot say. I care little. That I will not spend eternity languishing here is good enough for me.”

A simple and pragmatic way of looking at things, you consider, not too far from what you expected from him. Shrugging, you move on to another question you had. Something that had been on your mind for a while. Does he remember much about the Knight he once was, you ask, any memories of that life? A name perhaps, or anything about how they lived?

Isten considers your question for a long moment, then slowly shakes his head.

[1/2]

>>1254826
I don't buy that due to the memories we just witnessed. He felt warmth and affection for Artemis like we do for Lize and he couldn't give a rats ass about the Knights killing each other, leaving Noble in his tomb.

>>1254834
> An apocalypse of beasts that would sweep the land clean of all life, heralded by the birth of a horned child. I heard that tale as a child, all those years ago.”

Like the thing we found in Hebona's belly?

>>1254866
Could have been his disgust at failing. Ever see an artist react to a piece that is flawed and just gets worse the more you try to fix it?

I can't remember how he acted towards the Knights prior to killing Artemis. Have to look it up when I'm not phone posting.

I wonder what the Giant thinks of her now.

>>1254834

“I recall little, and nothing about my... ancestor as they once were. In fact, what I feel is almost the opposite of that, a void where their true self should be,” slowly, Isten rubs his chin in thought, “As if they cast aside what they once were in order to become something greater. Something that I know a little about, need I remind you – although in the end, it seems as though I was unwilling to abandon my name as they were. Here I am, after all, speaking to you as Isten Kardja. Not the White Tyrant, and not some ancient Knight.”

He puffs up his chest as he makes this speech, pride glaring out from his features. Back when he ruled over an army, he would probably be met with a round of cheers and adulation. Here, only a cold silence greets him. Wilting only slightly, the old Tyrant leans back against his rock and gives you a weary snarl of a smile. “But no, I cannot offer you any trace of their past,” he says, “Beyond what they made themselves into – what you already know.”

Well, it can't be helped. His little speech about being a man does remind you of something, however. They're planning to rename Port Tyrant, you tell him, now that it's fallen into League hands. They've got all kinds of ideas going around, but you suggested Port Isten. What does he think?

For a moment, it looks as though Isten is about to laugh aloud, clearly not taking you seriously, but then he realises that you weren't joking. An almost solemn expression falls over his face. “A strange gesture to make, southerner,” he says quietly, “I'm sure you had your reasons for it.”

It IS just a gesture, you admit, but it seemed a fitting choice. A little trace of their heritage for the northerners to hold onto, it might offer them some peace and comfort. If that makes them less likely to strike out against the League, that's all the better. Still, you add with a shrug, it was just a suggestion – and not necessarily one that might get accepted. This is not a decision made by one man alone.

“And that is why you will always be weak. Committees, bah!” Isten lets out the laugh he had been preparing, “A man could have his knife at your throat, and you would vote on how to escape!

Sometimes, he really does forget who won the war. Wearily shaking your head, you start to turn away from the old man.

As you're leaving Isten's side, though, you hear him clearing his throat. “I thank you, Hunter. Many would not have done me a courtesy such as this,” one corner of his mouth twists in something that might actually be a genuine smile, “For a man born of the south, you have honour.”

The honesty in his voice gives you pause, and it takes you a moment to answer him. Before you can say anything, however, he continues on.

“You must have learned it from us,” he decides.

Grunting, you turn and walk away.

[2/3]

>>1254982
>“You must have learned it from us,” he decides.

I chuckled.

>>1254982

When you return to her, Artemis has shifted so she can watch the Giant, regarding it with cool curiosity. Or, you think after a moment, like a scavenging bird waiting for its prey to finally die.

Not a particularly comforting thought.

“Did you learn anything from it?” she asks as you approach, “I hear you were doing a lot of thinking.”

No prizes for guessing where she heard that from - a few paces away, Revelle gives you a jaunty wave. Giving her a nod in response, you try to put the Giant's knowledge, its motives, into words. You did learn a few things, you begin cautiously, enough to know where to find your next prey at least. It might not be easy to get there, but that's an issue for another day. The rest of what you learned, though...

“Oh?” although her eyes have started to take on a glassy and sleepless sheen, Artemis tilts her head to the side and urges you on, “What else?”

Slowly, in the faltering tones of someone unused to such topics, you tell Artemis about that curious warmth you felt from the Giant. Not quite a familial affection, but something close – perhaps as close as a being like the Giant can get. That, at least, was the impression you got from it. What it did, it did out of a desire to help her. It didn't have to, but it went ahead and destroyed her – all in the hope that she would be purified by the experience.

“Because I was born... created... incomplete,” Artemis nods slowly, “Corrupt, they'd call it.” She says this quietly, too quiet for anything other than weary resignation to show in her voice.

And that corruption was the start of all this, you continue, a corruption that was spread to the twelve Knights. All you can hope is, when she is finally made complete again...

“What?” she murmurs, “What do hope?”

That all this can be over, you finish, once and for all.

A long pause, and then Artemis nods once again. “I'd like that too,” she whispers, the last of her energy fading as her eyes flutter shut. Sighing to yourself, you pick her up before she can slide over and lower her, carefully, to the ground. As a faint tremor, like a heartbeat, runs through Nihilo, you let yourself slip away back into the real world.

-

You wake with an aching head, your hangover worse than ever before.

You really don't know what else you had been expecting.

>Going to have to pause here, my mind is pretty blank. I'll pick things up tomorrow
>Thanks for your patience today!

>>1255215
thanks

>>1255215
Thanks for running Moloch.

Hey does that Whirlpool still exist now that Ghruul is dead?

>>1255247

It does, yes. Ghruul wasn't the source of it, but it did use the whirlpool as a lair. Even with the whirlpool still there, though, that area will be a lot safer without Ghruul.

There's still plenty of other dangers, but it's a nice start.

>>1255215
Is Artemis going to die if she comes into our world? Birth is dangerous yo. Heck, in the long term it's a guaranteed death sentence.

But seriously, we might want to warn her to be cautious about breaking out right away. Like, maybe we can prepare where she breaks out so we have a plan if she goes berserk or if her presence breaks reality or she creates beasts just by her being near living things.

>>1255318
We'll be across the world when we kill Noble.

We just have to hope that what comes out of that tree is the same girl we've known all this time.

>>1255318

Well, without looking too far ahead, I can say that Artemis wouldn't die just from the process of being born. As you say, though, the long term is a little less certain.
As for your second point, I'd say it's a good idea. If our theory is right, and Artemis is born at her temple, it'll be pretty isolated - that should reduce some of the risks, although >>1255410 does have a point!

>>1255426
getting slightly worried here

>>1255596
Relax, it'll be fiiiiiiiinneeeee. Arty is best waifu and all that.

>>1255410
>>1255426

That's why I'm saying we prep the area. Maybe get some southern totems set up, get wossername our house witch, Liz, and Hansen to keep an eye on it. Maybe get them to taste some Mazka so Revell can introduce them. Southern magic seems like a safer bet to not go wrong or be twisted if Artemis lashes out.

Have some livestock in case Artemis is hungry. And maybe a giant pit trap. Lots of chain nets.

Also a nice place to stay with a warm bed and some fancy food and some nice clothing so that if she is civilized and such she can be greeted like a person and an um-friend instead of a monster or a threat.

>>1255596
>>1255686

Just gonna point out we have no idea what shape or form Artemis is going to take when she comes out of Nihilo.

>>1257071
>get wossername our house witch, Liz, and Hansen to keep an eye on it

If Art does go bad that'll just get them killed.

>Just gonna point out we have no idea what shape or form Artemis is going to take when she comes out of Nihilo.

If it's the same as what she was in the pastebin where she was divided she is going to be similar to a human.

I understand wanting to cover all your bases, but we can't really do the things you want in any reasonable time.

At this point we should just have a little faith that her captivity, perspective she gained by watching her Hunters and our influence will make it so she is good when she comes out.

>>1257071
Most if this is unfeasible.

Southern spirits can only stop spiritual acts. It isn't going to stop physical attacks. Not to mention having to find them and paying their price. I think we were lucky with Revelle's price.

Traps are just going to alienate her and she is probably smart enough to avoid them. Also how the hell are you going to make a pitfall trap in a Temple? Got a jackhammer?

Why have livestock when she can just hunt? Goddess of Hunters after all. Besides leaving livestock there and then running all the way North would take too long. It takes weeks, they'd starve.

I can get behind Lize and Alyssia waiting there with food and clothes when she reforms. They can take her to the tenement while we work our way back down to the capital.

>>1258485
>>1257177
The idea is that they're there to help make sure Artemis doesn't run wild or get attacked or something.

Revel is protecting them as well.

Artemis might very well harm people spiritually with her very presence. Could be a birth of a new Blood Moon for all we know.

The pit trap is only if Liz, Henson and Alyssia have to run, to slow down Artemis.

Livestock can be released so she can hunt them for fun, or as a distraction while our friends get away.

>>1258940
>Revel is protecting them as well.
I don't know if even she can split her protection half a world away.

>Artemis might very well harm people spiritually with her very presence.
Didn't seem to harm the Knights that killed her like that. And if she has this hypothetical harming aura you are thinking of she can't go into society anyways.

>Could be a birth of a new Blood Moon for all we know.

Doubtful. The Blood Moon is a result of a omnipresent deity going mad and Artemis didn't make one when she was feral and 'corrupted'.

Besides if another Blood Moon appeared the Free States would pretty much be destroyed over night which is essentially a game over anyways.

>The pit trap is only if Liz, Henson and Alyssia have to run, to slow down Artemis.

We are releasing the most dangerous predator ever that has been spectating the best Hunters since she has been in Nihilo. A pit trap or any other mundane countermeasures you come up with aren't going to slow her down. Also there isn't anywhere to run. The temple is on a island and the ferryman won't be there 24/7. Also as the dude above said, if she is fine (which she probably is) traps are just going to alienate her.

>Livestock can be released so she can hunt them for fun, or as a distraction while our friends get away.

I don't think a predator like her will have fun killing a bunch of cows. Also might alienate her. And you can't even get livestock on the boat that the ferryman has. And they can't serve as a distraction since they are still on a damn island.

Look famalam you've got two options here.

1. Believe that our gamble that we've been hedging our bets on the entire quest will pay off and she'll come out okay. You know, cause if not the whole main plot would be kind of pointless and Moloch has never struck me as the 'Gotcha! You should have chosen >No to the whole plot from the start!' kind of QM. In which case it would be fine to send Lize and Alyssia to meet her somewhere.

Or 2. Constantly assume the worst in which case do not send anyone. Countermeasures will mean jack and it's better for them to be in the capital.

>>1259207
>>1258940
Actually here is a compromise.

Have Lize and Alyssia leave clothes, food, and directions to Artydom at the Temple. Then they just shack up at Ilse's tavern until Artemis arrives. Better than camping out on a island with a dubious ferryman as their only way back. If she arrives peacefully then it's all well and good and they can go to the capital to meet Henryk together. If she starts killing the town they can escape in the confusion.

No traps, no livestock, no getting other spirits.

>>1259207
It's been explicitly stated that distance isn't an issue for Revel.

> Didn't seem to harm the Knights

You mean tye twisted monstrosities we've been killing? Even the Giant was tainted.

> Trapped on an island

Damn, if only we knew someone who had a boat.

> SHE'S UNSTOPPABLE

Better to die trying to make things work than to die hiding in the Capital.

Besides, the Knights killed her before so I'm pretty sure she isn't unstoppable.

>>1259260
Also we already got Revel to be friends with Artemis.

>>1259597
You seem to be misunderstanding something very important.

We, as in Henryk, WILL NOT be there when Artemis comes out. Same with Vas. It'll take us weeks to get back there.

The point I'm trying to make is that the precautions you are trying to have are pointless since Artemis will more than likely come out fine and if you are, unlikely as it is, right in your caution you are condemning Lize and Alyssia to death since they won't have any back up and your countermeasures are either ass or completely unfeasible. Specially if you keep making up shit like other blood moons to back up your claims.

Either way I'm done arguing about this. Any meeting group for Artemis will be decided on in thread.

>>1259658
Hey. We're just bringing a nascent god into the world. What could go wrong?

>>1259260
I can get behind leaving clothes, food, and directions to Artydom at the Temple. It's the least we can do.

>>1260151
So many things but fuck it, we're going all the way baby.

>>1260359
>>1259260
Yeah it seems like a good idea.

>>1260359
clothes, food, directions and a boat anon.

>>1263108
A flare to signal the ferryman anon.

Unless you have a bright idea to come up with a boat. They don't grow on trees. Well technically...

For one long week, you sit here inches above the precious Giant's blood, unable to risk examining it any more than you already have. Your cabin is a shared one, and you never get more than a few quiet minutes to yourself. The last thing you need is for some unshaven idiot to catch you with a good supply of illicit material. Vas has a saying – nothing is less secret than sailor's gossip.

So, with your precious cargo stowed beneath your bunk, you wait.

-

Port Daud, with its ever-present haze of industrial filth, could never really be considered a “clean” place, but even this level of grime surprises you. The sky is lead grey, and the smell of smoke seems to follow you everywhere you do. A thin snow falls, but the flakes feel greasy and gritty to touch. It isn't just a physical thing either, the prevailing mood feels equally sullied. Suspicious locals scurry past you, while Ministry guards keep a careful watch on every factory or warehouse.

Shortly after arriving in Port Daud, you and Vas parted ways for a while. He was going to arrange for the Ghoul to be repaired, while you opted to spend the time in your usual way – prowling, with your eyes and ears wide open. Through rumour and gossip, you start to piece together a picture of recent events. A fire at a munitions factory, with talk of arson and southern saboteurs as the likely culprits. You're reminded of Loch's words – his work will never really end, he'll just swap outside enemies with internal threats.

It's strangely comforting, to know that nothing really changed while you were away in the north. There's a nagging doubt in your mind that you'll return to a wholly different world – and certainly not a better one. When you meet up with Vas again, you mention your thoughts to him.

“Aye,” he agrees, “That's the one thing you can count on. Things will always get worse, and folks like you and me will have to pick up the slack. Still – keeps us in business, doesn't it?”

That's certainly one way of looking at things.

-

It's late when the train pulls into Thar Dreyse, too late to be doing anything other than going home and getting a good night's sleep – in your own bed, something that seems like a rare luxury. In either case, it's too late to conducting any business, so you and Vas decide to part ways again.

“When it's time for that “business” of ours,” Vas reminds you before leaving, “You know where to find me.”

-

“Don't believe in travelling light, do you?” a grating voice says as you're entering your tenement building. Anders, the landlord, leans heavily on a mop and examines you – the cases you carry, along with the heavy rifle slung over your shoulder. “I hate to add to your burdens,” he adds, insincerity dripping from his words, “But you got a delivery. Wouldn't fit in your box, so I've been holding it for you.”

A box, awkward and heavy. Wonderful.

[1/2]

>>1263333

It takes a little juggling to carry all of your luggage, but eventually you get everything under control. As you do, you notice a brass plate fixed to the wooden case, the name Hayek engraved into it along with his seal as a maker of swords. A nice surprise to return to, although seven flights of stairs with your increased burden does much to dampen your mood. Still, you manage to reach your apartment without any major disasters.

Entering your apartment, the first thing that you hear is music from the radio, turned down low and crackling with a film of static. Then a soft snore rises above the tune, coming from your bedroom. Gently setting down your luggage, you nudge the ajar door open a little wider and glance inside. Sprawled out on the bed, looking anything but graceful, Lize sleeps peacefully. Stepping away from the door, you turn off the radio and start making tea. A short while later, the soft snoring noise comes to an end, and the door creaks.

“You're back,” Lize remarks, her voice still thick with sleep and her hair sticking up in wild tufts, “Should have sent a message. I could have cooked something.”

Actually, you reply quickly, it's better this way.

“Guess so,” acknowledging your point with a nod, Lize slumps down at the table and glances at your luggage, “Lot of stuff you got there. Anything interesting?”

Well, you admit with a secretive smile, maybe a few things.

-

It takes Lize a moment to actually bring herself to open the wooden case, spending a few long moments gazing down upon it before running her hands across the wood. Biting her lower lip nervously, she finally gathers up her courage and lifts the lid. Without a single glib remark, for once, she reaches in and withdraws the first item. The sword – although really, it's closer to a long knife by your standards – is relatively unadorned, but Lize still regards it with something close to awe.

But that's nothing compared with the second piece, the accompanying dagger. Not a large piece, and only a little more ornate than the sword, it is nevertheless a work of art. Long enough to reach through a ribcage and pierce a man's heart, and with a deep parrying groove low to the base. With a sweeping basket hilt to protect the hand, it is as much a shield as it is a weapon. The blade has the sheen unique to metal of the highest quality – compared with the sword, which has the air of mass production about it – while the point is keen.

The sole engraving is that of a wolf's head, the jaws open around the parrying notch – as if preparing to bite down on an attacker's blade.

Lize, quite simply, is speechless.

>Do you like it?
>We should do something, the two of us. Any suggestions?
>Early days yet, but I might have found a miracle cure
>I wanted to talk to you about something... (Write in)
>Other

>>1263334
>>Do you like it?
>>We should do something, the two of us. Any suggestions?

>>1263334
>Don't go around stabbing peasants with them, we'll get complaints from the landlord.
>No you might think THAT's amazing, but this here is even better. Or, it could kill us all. Not too sure yet.

>>1263343
supporting

>>1263334
>Do you like it?
Don't mention the cure. Let's not give her a premature hope.

>>1263334
>Basket hilt.

Not good. It's not something you can carry concealed, and I doubt Lize will have many people coming at her with a sword anyway.

>>1263334
>>Do you like it?
>>I also have a few pints of Giant's Blood back here too. Still need to be tested however but I have it on good authority (the Giant himself) that it should work.
>>We should do something, the two of us. Any suggestions?

>>1263353
>I have it on good authority (the Giant himself)
now that's something we should never say to anyone aside from Lize

>>1263355
Just her and Alyssia yeah.

File: Lize - Cold Weather.jpg (67 KB, 498x757)

67 KB JPG

So, you ask after a moment, like it?

“I...” Lize looks up at you, then down at the dagger in her hands, then back up to you, “I don't know what to say. It's beautiful, they both are, and... and...” Letting her words trail off, Lize drops her gaze back down to the weapon. Slowly, with reverence and care, she places the dagger back in the case. “I don't think I can thank you enough,” she breathes, “For this, for everything you've done for me, I... I won't forget this, Henryk. I won't forget any of it.”

Her eyes are actually misting over with tears, the simple intensity of her reaction leaving you stunned. This isn't really your area of expertise, not even slightly, and so you force yourself to speak up. This time, you're the one with the glib comment. Just don't go stabbing anyone at random, you warn her, the landlord might complain – not to mention the legal issues...

“Hah!” your joke cuts through the solemn air, causing Lize to cough out a choked laugh, “That's... no, I don't reckon you need to worry about that. Can't really see myself stabbing anyone at random.”

Well, you reply, that's good to hear.

“Yeah, if I stab them it'll be because they deserved it!” crossing her arms defiantly across her chest, Lize just about manages to keep a straight face, “But, really, this is... this is more than I ever expected. I just wish there was some way I could repay you.”

If she thinks that's amazing, you add, she should hear about what else you've got. It's something even better... unless it's lethally dangerous. You're still not entirely sure yet, it's sort of a work in progress. You'd rather not say too much now, not while there are a few details left in need of confirmation, but it's good news. Probably.

“Man, now you've gotta tell me!” leaning forwards, jostling the forgotten teacups, Lize meets your eye, “I can deal with a bit of bad news, disappointment, any of that, but this kinda curiosity is the worst!”

You hadn't wanted her to get her hopes up, not this early, but it's clear that she won't stop bothering you now that you've teased her appetite. You recovered a few pints of Giant's blood from the north, you tell her quietly, from the Garden of Giants. Now, you can't be certain that it's the miracle cure you'd been hoping for, but one of your sources seems to think it is. The Giant itself, you think privately, could be considered a reliable source.

“Giant's blood...” Lize breathes, “So-”

Careful, you warn, better that she keeps her expectations low just in case. Nothing is certain just yet, after all.

“Right!” forcing back the eager light in her eyes – so bright that it is almost a hunger – Lize nods again, “Consider my expectations lowered!”

You've never heard someone say that in such a cheery tone.

[1/2]

>>1263371

Well then, you decide, now that that's settled there was something else you had in mind. You were thinking, it might be nice for the two of you to do something together. Take a break from work, and just... relax a little. Any suggestions, you ask, anything she might like to do?

“Hmm?” she raises a coy eyebrow, “Anything?”

Unfortunately not, you admit, there are limits. A trip down to the southern colonies might be a little too far, but otherwise... you're pretty flexible.

“Man, I don't know. I'm not really thinking all that straight at the moment,” Lize offers a nervous little laugh, running an absent minded hand across the wooden case, “Mind if I sleep on this one, throw a few ideas about? I mean, even just sitting around the place and being lazy might be pretty nice, if we got to do it together.” Colouring a little as she says that, Lize clears her throat awkwardly. “Get a chance to catch up, I mean,” she hastily corrects herself, “I bet you've got all kinds of gossip from up north, stuff they'd never allow onto the radio!”

A few bits and pieces, you begin, they're looking to rename old Port Tyrant...

-

Between gossip and hunting stories, you end up talking for a good part of the night. As such, Lize is snoring merrily away when you wake up the following morning. Jotting down a quick note – you're heading out on business, you'll be back later – you eat a light meal and gather some things together. Precious things, namely the samples of Giant's blood. Packed in an old canvas bag, they look innocuous enough to pass a fleeting inspection.

Thus prepared, you head off to meet Vas. It's time to get an expert opinion on this matter.

-

Somehow, you get the impression that Vas wasn't expecting to do business this early in the morning. His eyes are red, and it takes him a few moments to speak in anything louder than a slurred murmur. The cold air as you walk the streets towards the Noble District helps to clear his head, and soon he's back in action. He doesn't talk much as you walk, but you can sense his growing anticipation.

“Good money here,” he mutters to you when you arrive at the Solberg manor, his eyes flicking from one bit of decoration to another, “Better than most, I'd say.”

Certainly doing better than some of the noble families you've seen, you agree, although that doesn't make for a long list. Shrugging to yourself, you step forwards and rap your knuckles against the heavy door.

“Time to get this show on the road,” you hear Vas murmur to himself. Before either of you can say anything else, the door creaks slowly open.

[2/3]

>>1263403
......and Vas gets shot. TUNE IN NEXT WEEK, FOR THE FINAL CONFRONTATION

>>1263403

“I must confess, I did not entirely expect you to return,” Solberg admits, once you've been escorted to his grim basement quarters, “Much less with the prize you sought.” Taking one of the vials with the same reverence with which Lize held her dagger, Solberg gives it a gentle shake and listens. “Presuming, of course, that this IS what you claim,” he adds, more to himself than to you, “And not a canny attempt at falsehood.”

“It's damn real,” Vas assures the quiet nobleman, “Saw the creature with my own eyes. If it wasn't a Giant, I couldn't tell you what it was.”

“Regardless, I will need to perform an examination, and a few preliminary tests,” Solberg gestures towards some of his more arcane equipment, “I require peace and quiet. Upstairs, you will be served refreshments.”

It doesn't sound like you're being given much of a choice.

-

“Creepy bastard,” Vas mutters, toying with his teacup, “But I didn't expect anything less. Nobles... I just hope he doesn't send us north again, asking for anything else. I think we've both gone north more than enough, right? Never again!”

To answer that, all you can really muster up is a weak smile. Vas immediately notices it, groaning aloud in response.

“Hell, Henryk, you're not planning on going north again, are you? Is there a single rock up there that you haven't plundered?” he shakes his head, “Or is this some other business you've got going on?”

Not business, you tell him quietly, it's... personal.

“Personal. In the distant north,” Vas looks at you with slow amazement, “I really shouldn't be surprised, should I?”

>How about it, one last time in the north?
>I won't ask you to come with me, but I need to go. Can you suggest anything?
>Like I said, it's personal. Let's just drop it
>Other

>>1263420
>I won't ask you to come with me, but I need to go. Can you suggest anything? I imagine the waters will be a bit safer either way, we kind of killed the biggest thing there.

>>1263420
>How about it, one last time in the north?

If not
>Can you suggest anything?

>>1263420
>How about it, one last time in the north?
but not to forcefull. don't press the issue

>>1263420
>>I won't ask you to come with me, but I need to go. Can you suggest anything?
He's done enough, if wants to lay low after the hell ride that was last time, I wouldn't blame him.

>>1263420
>We both know who captains the most reliable ship around here (him), and this time I know where I'm going. But if you have someone to direct me to I will listen....

You'll be honest, you tell him frankly, this is something you need to do. How about it, you offer, one last time in the north?

“I don't know, Henryk. If you were asking me this a few years ago, maybe I would have agreed on the spot, but now? I'm getting old, and I'm pushing my luck – last time taught me that,” leaning back in his plush armchair, he glances about at the rich decorations surrounding you both, “Sailors like me, we get an instinct for these things. My instincts... they're telling me that it's about time to think about settling down. Or, at least looking at something less dangerous.”

The expression on his face darkens, showing not just genuine regret but almost bordering on grief – like a man preparing for the death of a loved one. The north took more out of him than you realised, than perhaps both of you realised.

You won't force this matter, you assure him quietly, you won't ask him twice. That said, you weren't lying before – you need to go north one last time. Is there anything he can suggest, you ask, anyone he can direct you to? The waters are likely to be calmer in those parts, now that you've slain the biggest thing in them. Would that help convince anyone to go?

“I know a few people,” Vas chooses his next words with care, “Maybe not personally, but by reputation. The sort of men willing to do dangerous things. Short of stealing a ship... or swimming... they're likely to be your best shot. What sort of prize are you expecting?”

Nothing, you mutter, no physical riches at least.

“Hrn,” your old friend grunts, narrowing his eyes, “And where are you wanting to go?”

Far to the north, you reply, beyond the boundaries of any map. You know the way, the directions might as well be burned into your mind, but your destination is not one that could be found on any maps.

“You know what I like about you, Henryk?” Vas asks after a long moment, offering you a crooked smile, “You can really appreciate the easy life.”

You laugh aloud, and some of the tension in the room falls away. It's a pretty shitty deal, you agree, but it's all you've got. Would any of these people he knows be able to help?

“I'll need to write a few letters,” the gruff old captain eventually sighs, “But yes, I think I can help you. There's just one thing you need to keep in mind...”

Very well, you say with a slow nod, you're listening.

“Don't trust them,” Vas urges, “Don't let your guard down around them. Like I said, these men are willing to do dangerous things... especially if they smell a profit.”

Silence, broken only by the ticking of a clock and then the sound of a bell chiming. A butler arrives, summoned to escort you back down to the dungeons. The tests, it seems, are over.

[1/2]

>>1263456

“First of all, I wish to make one thing clear,” Solberg begins, “I cannot prove, independently, that this IS the blood of an ancient Giant. I have nothing to compare it to, precious little prior knowledge. However, I can say this – it is like no other blood I have ever seen. Observe...” Standing, he guides you over to a complicated array of lenses and gestures to the eyepiece. Shrugging, you peer down into the sample.

This is the pure sample, you guess as you examine the vital fluid, it almost looks...

“It would be inaccurate to say that it is alive,” Solberg cuts you off, “But yes, it possesses the base properties of life. Needless to say, even samples of human blood stored in ideal conditions would not show such lingering vitality. Second of all, you were incorrect – that was originally drawn from the contaminated blood. A single drop of what you called the “pure” sample was able to cleanse a far greater volume of contaminated blood.”

“So it's usable?” Vas asks, cutting straight to the heart of the issue, “All of it?”

“All of it, yes,” Solberg confirms, “And my preliminary tests suggest that a relatively small amount is all that would be needed to cleanse the blood of, say, a human being. There is something I'd like to show you.” Rubbing his weary eyes, Solberg fetches a vial of blood – a paper label scrawled with the initials “NS”. Opening the vial, Solberg pours it out into a flat dish. “Blood, drawn from a family member of mine. A cousin,” the noble explains, “The family affliction hit him rather worse than most.”

When Solberg lowers a set of lenses over the dish, you see what he meant – the blood almost looks... ragged, the individual cells frayed and withering away to nothing. Murk and filth drifts through the liquid, like sediment gathering at the bottom of an ancient lake. Looking at that tainted blood almost feels like a grim premonition. When you step aside so that Vas can take a look, he lets out a low hiss of disgust.

“Now, I will add a small amount of the purified Giant's blood,” Solberg whispers, leaning across and dripping a few tiny drops into the dish, “Watch closely.”

As you watch, the Giant's blood – a deeper red – swirls into the human sample. As it mixes, the filth is eaten away while the blood cells plump up and take on a new life. Even after the Giant's blood has vanished, the regeneration continues. After a few short moments, the blood shines with a healthy glow.

Incredible, you breathe.

“Very impressive,” Vas grunts, “But what does it do to a person?”

“That will be my next test,” Solberg murmurs, “Would you like to meet my cousin Nathaniel?”

>Lead the way
>Hold on, I wanted to ask something... (Write in)
>Other

>>1263507
>Lead the way

>>1263507
>Hold on, I wanted to ask something... (Write in)
"Do you think there will be a significant difference between Dragon's blood, which was passed down genetically, and the other 3 bloods that were engineered for servitude with how this cure effects them?"
>Lead the way

>>1263507
>>Lead the way
So maybe a pint or less to fully clean up a full human? Doubt the drops or so powerful that all it takes is a drop to be cured. Course, we could help way more people if all it took really was a drop.

>>1263507
>what would it do to animals?
>what about normal humans?

>>1263533
I hope it's just a syringe full, but I guess we'll see soon enough.

It is possible, you ask, that there would be a difference in how Dragon's Blood reacts compared with the other three bloodlines? There are enough differences – Dragon's Blood being passed down through heredity while the other bloodlines were engineered as a means of servitude – that such variation seems likely.

“You make an excellent point,” Solberg agrees, “In truth, my testing has not been as extensive as I would have liked – both time and available resources are limited at this point. However, I have been able to work up a number of theories. Overall though, while I believe there may be small variations according to bloodline, I believe that the Giant's blood will be able to cleanse all four varieties of blood in much the same way. At most, I anticipate minor variations in dosage...”

Speaking of dosage, you ask, how much of the Giant's blood would be required to heal a single person? A pint, less?

“A great deal less,” the noble assures you, “Although more than a single drop, unfortunately. In a similar way to opiates, characteristics of the specific individual will determine the required dose – age, or the degree of their corruption to be more precise. As I have said, Nathaniel has suffered more than most – he will require a comparatively large dose.” Reaching into his pocket, Solberg produces an eighty millilitre syringe, the glass dark with blood.

“That's all?” Vas asks, “It seems... small.”

“Giant's blood is potent,” Solberg replies, his voice grave, “Incredibly so.”

As he starts to lead you upstairs, a few more questions occur to you. What would happen if he gave it to an animal, you ask, or a normal human? Neither of them would suffer from a corruption of the blood, so would the Giant's blood do nothing?

“I believe that it would purge any impurities – blood borne diseases, for example – but it would have no further benefit,” Solberg offers, although the caution in his voice reminds you of his incomplete research, “Primarily, those with auspicious blood stand to benefit from this.”

“Huh, typical,” Vas mutters to himself.

-

Solberg doesn't stop on the ground floor, heading straight for another flight of stairs and ascending, leading you up a further two floors and down a length of corridor. This deep inside the manor, the air feels very heavy and very still. When you pause to smell the air, you catch a lingering odour of disease and decay. A smell that reminds you of a sick or dying animal. Vas seems to notice it as well, although not on a conscious level. Only Solberg seems unaffected.

Perhaps he's used to it.

[1/2]

>>1263590

Stopping at an unmarked door, Solberg knocks briskly – it's the loudest sound you've ever heard him make – and enters. Trading an uneasy look with Vas, you follow the nobleman inside. The room is... grim, walls decorated with countless masks of all different kinds. Many are porcelain, but others are wooden or even forged from metal. All are painted with elegant designs, beautiful faces or abstract designs. With your eye drawn to those masks, it takes a low cough to break your attention away.

Nathaniel Solberg sits up in bed, his slack and unresponsive features offering you no hint as to his true feelings. At first, you take him for an obese youth but then you revise your guess. His arms and neck are thin enough – in fact, his hands are rather beautiful – while his torso is swollen and bloated. Beneath the thin smock he wears, you can just about make out the outlines of tumours and other deformities... symptoms of his corrupted blood.

“Nathaniel,” Solberg says, his voice pitched low and almost reassuring, “I have a new medicine for you today.”

The young cripple looks around, and perhaps he shrugs, but that is the only reaction he makes. Undeterred, Solberg gently tilts the patient's head to the side and sinks the syringe into his neck. With slow precision, Solberg empties the syringe into Nathaniel before neatly withdrawing it, capping the needle and wiping the wound with a patch of gauze. He does these tasks with the efficiency of a trained doctor, before leading you and Vas back outside.

-

“You're using your own cousin as a test subject?” Vas hisses, as soon as the door is closed, “How can you be sure that it won't harm him?”

“Perhaps it will harm him, maybe even kill him,” Solberg replies flatly, “But if I do nothing, he will die just as surely. From an objective standpoint, he really has nothing to lose. You saw him in there, did you not?”

Vas doesn't look convinced, but you cut off any further arguments with a light cough. So, you ask, what now?

“We wait. I will observe Nathaniel, and take a careful record of his progress. It may take many days. However, there is a more immediate concern,” a thin tongue slips out to wet Solberg's lips, “I have a request to make. I want a sample of the Giant's blood – say... one quarter of what you recovered. I will not beg, I am more than willing to offer you an ample price as compensation.”

Apparently unwilling to say any figures aloud, Solberg produces a small pad of paper and writes down a number. Impressed, Vas lets out a low whistle.

>This wasn't part of any deal. I don't like this
>Well Vas, you were looking for a buyer...
>You need to be careful with this, Solberg. People might kill for this
>Is this for further study, or personal use?
>Other

>>1263658
>>Well Vas, you were looking for a buyer...
We did say he gets half.

That said
>You need to be careful with this, Solberg. People might, no will kill for this.
>Is this for further study, or personal use?
Remember that it is finite.

>>1263665
Exactly all of this.
Vas gets some cash and Solberg gets some material. I might be inclined to give most of the cash her to Vas actually. We aren't hurting for cash or anything I don't think and he does need to pay his men and himself. Maybe we take like 10 or 20 percent?

>>1263671
Vas would get all the money since he would be selling his share.

>>1263672
Ahh right my bad. That works out perfectly then.

>>1263658
>>1263665
>>1263671
Sounds good to me. Also tell him we're unlikely to get more, the source of the corrupted blood was predating the pure sources, making them hard to find, and that's not taking the perils of travel in the far north.

>>1263658
>Well Vas, you were looking for a buyer...
>You need to be careful with this, Solberg. People might kill for this

One moment, you tell Solberg before glancing to Vas, you need a word with your companion. Taking Vas aside a few paces aside, you lower your voice like a pair of fellow conspirators. Well, you ask him, what does he think? He was looking for a buyer, after all.

“I think I was right – they're better off than most, this lot,” Vas rubs his palms, “That little figure of his, that's more than enough to cover the Ghoul's repairs, as well as giving my crew a good wage. Hell, even after all of that, there's enough left to keep me comfortable for a good while. A quarter of the blood isn't a small thing, but at the price he's willing to pay... Yeah, I'm willing to make a deal. You can have the rest of the blood, if I can keep the cash. You're not hurting for it, are you?”

Not for money, you reply, no. Alright, you're happy with this arrangement – but you want to check a few things with Solberg first. Slapping Vas on the arm, you return to the noble. This is a dangerous thing to have, you warn Solberg, he needs to be careful with it. There are people out there who might kill to get their hands on it. If he does get his share of the Giant's blood, you can't recommend reselling it.

“I'll have to cancel the auction,” Solberg sighs, and it takes you a moment to realise that he was actually making a joke.

But really, you ask, what does he plan to do with the blood? Further research, or does he have a more personal use in mind?

Again, that thin tongue slips out. “Does it matter?” the nobleman asks quietly, “I will be careful, is that not enough?”

Not really, you tell him firmly, you'd really rather hear what he has planned. If nothing else, Giant's blood is a finite resource – you'd rather not hear about his plans to squander it. It's not an easy substance to find, if it's possible at all.

“Actually...” Solberg narrows his eyes, debating with himself on how much to tell you. Finally, he relents. “You recall that the blood had an unnatural sort of life to it, yes?” he asks you, “I believe that it may be possible to...”

To make more, you guess, is that it?

“Potentially. It will need a great deal of experimentation – hence the need for a large starting supply – but the possible results more than make up for the effort. If my experiments should bear fruit, it will repay any expense my family has endured,” a thin smile touches Solberg's lips, “And that will just be the beginning, of course. A renewable supply will secure my family's position for generations to come.”

A cold silence descends over the hallway as both you and Vas consider his words. After a moment, Vas clears his throat.

“All of a sudden,” he begins, “That figure is starting to look a little low...”

>Next post might be slightly delayed. Got a small errand to run.

>>1263731
>“That figure is starting to look a little low...”
Wonder which one of them will end rubbing his hand.

>>1263731
>A renewable supply will secure my family's position for generations to come.

Either that or lead to it's downfall as it'll become a target.

Not our concern though. Still if he does manage to SCIENCE his way to a renewable supply there is going to be some power shifts.

>>1263731
Sounds like a terrible idea, but if he's paying for it and it's his share of it then no harm to us I guess.

>>1263731
>You can have the rest of the blood, if I can keep the cash
Vas seems very sure we won't pass over Iosefka.

>>1263769
Yeah I'm surprised he didn't go 'Rest of the blood, expect one syringe fill.'

>>1263774
Could get that small sum as down/finders payment and then when he gets it to work get a small cut from the sales he would make from it for life

>>1263793
Honestly while you could make dosh for life if you invest in Solberg's renewable blood idea it's probably smarter to just get paid and wash your hands of the whole thing cause in this society there are so many things that could go wrong.

And besides we weren't going to pass over Iosefka. We have plenty of blood.

You leave Solberg and Vas to finalise certain discussions – namely, the ways and means of transferring large sums of money – and head back to your apartment. Your share of the Giant's blood hangs heavily from one shoulder, while Solberg's promises dart about your mind. Later, after a few days of observing his ailing cousin, he should know more about the dosages and measurements required. From there, Solberg assured you, it would only be a matter of drawing the appropriate charts.

He said a lot more after that, but most of the language used sailed clean over your head. Vas gave you a promise as well, one that made a lot more sense to you – he'd be writing some letters as soon as possible, reaching out to dubious contacts and making inquiries. With nothing else to do, you head home. As you walk, you think about Solberg's dreams for the future. Maybe he's inviting disaster, or maybe he's about to change the world. Whatever he ends up doing, at least you won't be involved – you won't get dragged into his mess. That's good enough for you, you decide as you arrive at your front door.

Judging by the soft whisper of footsteps that you can hear from behind the closed door, Lize is in the middle of giving her new weapons a trail. Preparing yourself for the worst, to duck back from a deadly thrust or lethal jab, you slowly open the door.

No impulsive blows this time, Lize has almost perfect control of herself. Moving more like a dancer than anything else, she cuts and slashes the air with both blades, weaving a tight web of steel around herself. In the few moments that you can see her eyes, they seem glazed and so very distant. She is, in some indefinable way, not herself. Slowly closing the door behind you, you watch as her routine comes to a close. As her last act, she thrusts both blades forwards as if to impale a victim, then wilts.

You catch her before she can fall, her body seeming to be lighter than air.

[1/2]

>Internet flaked out. Sorry for the delay.

>>1263801
Ifox is probably jumping for joy that he is using his King's blade.

>>1263801

“It's never felt so natural!” she tells you later, her voice still faintly breathless from the exercise, “I've never felt so good, so in control!”

Something to do with that new blade, you ask, or is she just getting the hang of things?

“I don't know,” shrugging, shaking her head, Lize hungrily drinks down the glass of cold water you set in front of her, “I mean, it could be both. Either. I heard someone say once, a sword that fits perfectly in the hand is like a key in a lock. Maybe that's it. Anyway, I did a whole bunch of thinking while you were away, and I thought of somewhere we could go!” Rising from the table, Lize fetches a small map and tosses it down, pointing victoriously to the town of Artyom.

And not so far away, the island with Artemis' temple.

“So what do you say?” she asks, “You reckon we can head down there for a bit? I mean, it doesn't have to be long or anything, but...”

>Sure, it seems like a nice place for a trip
>I can't, unfortunately. Plans have changed
>Why there in particular?
>Other

>>1263809
>>Sure, it seems like a nice place for a trip
Well we have nothing to do for a few days anyways and we can lay some stuff out at the temple for Artemis when she comes out.

>Why there in particular?

>>1263809
>>Sure, it seems like a nice place for a trip
>>Why there in particular?

Ah. Should we have brought up the whole, gonna be taking care of a goddess soon, thing with Lize yet? Think she'd be pretty surprised if we just come home with a lady one day, and now that I'm thinking more maybe not.

>>1263809
>Why there in particular?

>>1263825
We can tell her now or on the way. I think she already knows that Artemis was going to restored once the 12 were killed, but not much specifics.

>>1263809
>>Why there in particular?

Sure, you agree with as carefree a tone as you can summon up, it seems like a nice place to go for a trip. There is one question you had, though – why there in particular? Out of all the places she could have chosen, why there?

“I like it there, y'know?” Lize's brow creases slightly as she frowns, trying to find the right words to use, “It's different from up here, with all the trees as stuff. Sorta feels like a whole different world, or maybe like I'm stepping into the past down there. Rustic, I guess you'd call it.” Shrugging, she reaches inside her shirt and pulls out the old leather medallion she wears – twin to the one you wear. “Besides,” the young Dragon adds, “It's kind of... special to me.”

The faint tension that had been gathering in your shoulders – although you only notice it now – seeps out of you. That's fine, you assure her, you were just curious. It IS quite nice down in that part of the world, even if-

“Yeah, I just woke up from a nap and knew it. I knew “that's where we should go”. You ever get that?” Lize tilts her head to the side, questioning you with her keen eyes, “Like, you wake up feeling like you've learned all kinds of stuff?”

Well, you reply stiffly, sometimes.

-

On the train rattling down to Canid, you're fortunate enough to be the only passengers in an empty carriage. With the sound of the engine offering a second layer of privacy, you decide to raise a rather thorny issue with Lize. Say, you begin, does she remember that special work you've been doing? Those odd jobs on the side?

“Sure, I remember,” Lize nods, “You got yourself tangled up in something spooky, and now you've got to kill like a million beasts. I remember.”

Not quite that many, you sigh, just twelve.

“Okay, small difference,” she waves and indifferent hand at you, “But I had the general idea down. So yeah, what about it?”

Well, you tell her simply, there's only one left now. One more beast, and you won't be tangled up in this particular mess any more. You'll just be tangled up in a completely different mess instead, you joke, teaching your otherworldly “friend” a thing or two about living in society.

“Right, I... I see,” Lize looks at you in amazement for a moment, before a slow smile spreads across her face, “Man, you really do like bringing home waifs and strays, don't you?”

That does seem to be the case, you sigh, and it just keeps happening. What you're trying to say is, you've got a small errand to run while you're down in Artyom. After that, there's a chance that a strange woman – emphasis on the “strange” part – might come knocking while you're away. Just... try and make her feel welcome. You'll be back as soon as you can.

“I mean, this is weird,” Lize nods, “But it's not the weirdest thing we've ever done, right?”

The worrying thing is, she's probably right.

[1/2]

File: Ilse.jpg (115 KB, 595x761)

115 KB JPG

>>1263884

Compared with how you remember it – the manic festival following Uriah's “triumph” - Artyom feels unusually sedate. Of course, this is closer to normality for the rustic settlement, but you suspect that those lurid scenes will be burned into your mind for years to come. Just closing your eyes in these streets, you can almost hear the chanting and cheering, almost smell the sweat and desperation.

There's not a whole lot to do in Artyom, but Lize seems endlessly amused by just wandering the streets, browsing the bustling marketplace and roaming out in the nearby woods. You rather suspect that it's more who she is doing these things with, rather than the activities themselves, that keeps her happy, but you're not about to raise any objections. You enjoy having the company, even as you're making plans of your own.

Various shops and stalls around the town offer everything you need – spare clothes, canned food, a few emergency flares and other miscellaneous supplies. The sorts of things that Artemis might need, if she is born into this world before you can help her. On a pad of paper, you write everything you think she might need, including a way to reach your tenement at Thar Dreyse. At points, you feel faintly absurd about what you're writing - “Do not start fights with random people in the street”, for example – but you know that it's better safe than sorry.

These little social niceties are important, after all.

-

After a day and a half of idle wandering and even more idle shopping, you decide to make a little side trip. Over a light meal, you mention your plans to Lize – you need to visit the temple, you tell her, just to take care of a few things. She's free to come with you, but...

“I dunno, that place is kinda spooky. All those birds, ugh!” Lize shivers, “And the trip over is pretty rough. Nah, I reckon I'll leave this one to you. I got plenty of things to do here, you don't need to worry!”

Just to be on the safe side, you took Lize to the Broken Window and introduced her to Ilse. When the two of them immediately break down into vulgar jokes and tall tales, you know that she's in good hands. Hell, she probably won't even notice that you're gone. Letting them get on with things, you hunt out a carriage to take you east.

-

Like clockwork, a thin rain begins to fall as the carriage rattles towards the shoreline. By the time you've arrived at the curious sprawling slum that plays home to Yadhos – fisherman and ferryman – and his kin, the rain has thickened to a dense sheet. Pulling up the hood on your waxed cloak, you knock firmly on the ramshackle wooden door.

The smell of unwashed flesh reaches you first, with the door opening a few seconds later.

[2/3]

>>1263988

With a warm fire in front of you and a bowl of stewed fish cradled in your hands, you almost feel comfortable. It's odd – Yadhos and his seemingly infinite family have never been anything less than welcoming, polite and generous, but your memories of them are always tinted with menace. Maybe it's the smell of fish that hands over the hovel like a cloud, but they remind you of the Tolnir folk in some strange way.

Still, it's not enough for you to refuse their hospitality, especially with the weather outside turning foul. As a baby wails in the background, Yadhos settles down opposite you and crosses his legs.

“More stew?” he asks, nodding to the beaten iron pot that simmers nearby.

Maybe later, you reply, you ate earlier. Besides, you're not here to eat stewed fish, not really.

“Aye,” the old lunatic agrees, nodding sagely, “Figured as much. Figure I know what you're here for, same as always.”

>Same as always, I'm looking to cross the waters
>I need you to do me a favour. I need you to watch out for a flare...
>How are the seas lately? Any need for the toll?
>Had something I wanted to ask you... (Write in)
>Other

>>1263988
> Lize and Ilse are fast friends
Well that's a pleasant surprise.

Also, we seem to have forgotten an earlier theory about Arty being the final boss. Where we kill her and become the God of Hunting in her place and such.

>>1264037
>>Same as always, I'm looking to cross the waters
>>How are the seas lately? Any need for the toll?
He's been a nice enough guy but I dunno, maybe we shouldn't involve him in this.

>>1264037
>Same as always, I'm looking to cross the waters
>I need you to do me a favour. I need you to watch out for a flare...
"It'll be awhile from now."
>How are the seas lately? Any need for the toll?
Wonder if anything changed after we killed Ghruul.

>>1264037
>>How are the seas lately? Any need for the toll?

>>1264037
>Same as always, I'm looking to cross the waters
>I need you to do me a favour. I need you to watch out for a flare...
>How are the seas lately? Any need for the toll?

>>1264037
>How are the seas lately? Any need for the toll?
>Same as always, I'm looking to cross the waters
>I need you to do me a favour. I need you to watch out for a flare...

>>1264045
You expect her to swim over?

>>1264037
>Same as always, I'm looking to cross the waters
>I need you to do me a favour. I need you to watch out for a flare...

>you have helped me many times now, is there anything I can do for you in return?

>>1264045
Turns out she was just God's daughter instead a God of Hunting. I wonder if Alyssia will freak out considering seeing Artemis in the flesh would be like seeing Jesus in the flesh for her.

>He's been a nice enough guy but I dunno, maybe we shouldn't involve him in this.
Unless you want her to take a dip and swim over she is going to need a boat. Probably could swim over fine considering who she is though. Clothes we got her would be ruined though...

I was figuring she'd stay put and we'd go pick her up. Just feels weird to let her be brought back alone and with some weird dude she's never met before.

>>1264113
It'd take us awhile to get down there. Besides it's the first step in dealing with society! Dealing with weird motherfuckers.

Same as always, you agree, you'll be looking to cross the waters later. First, though, you were wondering about a few things. How are the seas lately, you ask, any need to pay the usual toll?

“Doesn't seem much point in it now,” leaning over, Yadhos prods at the stew with a long wooden spoon, “Figure there''s not anything down there by now. It was, now it isn't. Always knew that it wouldn't last forever, even if I wasn't thinking it before.” Pondering the old memories in silence for a while, he lifts out the ladle and tastes the stew. Apparently satisfied, he nods to himself and looks back to you. “Everything dies,” the old ferryman decides, “Seas are calm now. Calmer than they've been.”

As always, his words – or perhaps the way he says them – have a vaguely aged feel to them, like you're listening to an old historical text being read aloud. No mistake, you're pleased that you won't need to shed blood to make your way across, but the faint sadness that has hung over Yadhos ever since is strangely disheartening.

“No toll for you, stranger,” Yadhos repeats, his voice drawing you back to reality, “No tolls for anyone, now on.”

Well, you say after a moment of hesitation, that's... a thing. In either case, you quickly add, you were hoping he could do you a favour. All you want is for him to keep an eye out, keep watch for a flare. If he sees one, it'll mean that someone out on the island needs a ride back to shore.

“Aye?” Yadhos asks, not blinking as he gives you a close look.

It's not a big deal, you reply awkwardly, but he should probably be careful. If he doesn't want to do it, of course...

“I'll do it,” he decides, nodding firmly, “Aye. Fire in the sky, watch for it. Aye.”

His simple acceptance leaves you briefly stunned, and then strangely touched. Even though you're a stranger, he's never hesitated to help you or offer hospitality. In some small way, you suspect that it might be rooted in the first time you met – when you agreed to pay his toll. That act might as well have brought you into his family, with how he treats you. He's helped you many times before, you tell the old man quietly, is there anything you can offer him in return?

“In return?” Yadhos repeats, as if the concept is unfamiliar, “You can help take the boat out, stranger. Less hard work for this old man.” Rising, he tugs on a heavy hooded cloak and starts for the door, apparently leaving the issue at that. Frowning, you move to follow him.

Is that all he wants, you ask, a little helping hand?

“Don't know what else I might need,” Yadhos shrugs, “Got family. Got a home. Seas give me what I need, toll or no toll. Can't think what else you might give me. Now then, help me shift this!” He raises his voice at that last part, shoving his little boat out into the water.

That, apparently, is the end of it.

[1/2]

>>1264037
>same as always indeed.
>how are the seas lately?
>an entity might need some help here in a while...

>“Don't know what else I might need,” Yadhos shrugs, “Got family. Got a home. Seas give me what I need, toll or no toll. Can't think what else you might give me."
That's a valuable lesson to teach someone, this is a more simple way to deal with one another. Civilized folks oftentimes forget about the simpler things in life. Human interactions as simple as that should make for solid bedrock to a newly awakened being.

>>1264176

“Who?” Yadhos asks, his voice barely reaching you over the sound of the wind and rain. His question is so unexpected that he has to repeat it before you answer. “Who is it?” he presses.

Who will he be picking up, you ask in return, is that it?

“Aye,” the old man nods, barely faltering as he rows, “Who?”

A woman, you tell him after a while, maybe a dangerous one. She might not want to come with him – if so, he shouldn't try forcing her. Just, she might want a ride back to the mainland. Either way, you're trying to cover all your bases.

“Strange folks you know,” Yadhos decides, without a single hint of irony.

-

An ill feeling hangs over Artemis' temple, and nothing is a better example of that uneasy air than the whirling sound of countless wings. The birds have taken flight, wildly fluttering about the ancient ruin without order or reason. Feathers seem to hang in the air, defying gravity, while their musty smell hits you like a solid object.

This is not somewhere that you can remain. You are not welcome here.

Throwing down the bag of supplies, you slide it deeper into the temple with a shove and hurry away, fleeing before those birds can bring their blind fury down upon you.

>Right, I'm going to have to pause things here. I'll aim to continue this tomorrow
>Thanks to everyone who contributed today!

>>1264228
>fleeing before those birds can bring their blind fury down upon you.
Those birds are by far the most terrifying thing in this universe.
Thanks for running Moloch. Looking like we'll be getting at least one or two more threads still.

>>1264228
Thanks for running.

>>1264246
You know it would suck if they ate Artemis

>>1264293
Anon please, the birds ARE Artemis.

>>1264301
It would still suck if they ate Artemis though, autocannibalism is not a pleasant thing.

>>1264304
I was thinking they'd all combine to form Arty, so there wouldn't be a chance to eat her. Unless they ate themselves as birds, now that'd be scary.

>>1264301
Oh please that's ridiculous, the birds don't like us. It is time for you to go to bed.

File: Pecked to death.webm (1.55 MB, 540x360)

1.55 MB WEBM

>>1264319
>Unless they ate themselves as birds, now that'd be scary.

>>1264429
aaaaaa Nature please, you're too scary.

>>1264429
wtf i hate birds now

>>1264319
>YFW they all combine together into a bigger bird.
She wants to devour all of humanity, but she can be kept appeased with french fries.

More people, you muse as you travel the long road back to Artyom, should try living like Yadhos. Not necessarily squatting by the sea in a dilapidated hovel full of generations of family, but living without lofty aspirations. He has enough to eat, and he has a roof over his head. He has family who – you presume – love him in their own rural way. When you asked what else you could give him, he could not answer you. He was, quite simply, content.

Not enough people are content in that way, from what you've seen of this land and its people. When your walk ends and you arrive back at the Broken Window, you find a rather different kind of contentment waiting for you. Not quiet and peaceful – not even slightly – but certainly inviting after a long trek through dismal weather. Pushing open the bar door, you are met by the scent of ale and the raucous sound of music.

Then, when you spot Lize sitting at the bar with a mostly empty cup of wine, you start to wonder if leaving her here had been a terrible mistake.

Joining in with the festivities... that was your second mistake.

-

On the train ride down to Canid, you had the luxury of a carriage all to yourself. Not so on the return trip, with a great number of people sharing your company. Their voices, often raised and angry, provided a particularly tortuous addition to the rattle and clank of the train's engine. By the time you arrived back at the capital, you felt just about ready to drop down dead. Judging by her pallid and haunted appearance, Lize likely feels just as bad.

Well, maybe it'll teach her a valuable lesson. Then again, maybe not – you're still to learn that particular lesson for yourself.

So, with the pair of you both nursing aching heads and bleary eyes, you lead Lize back to the tenement. On the way, you pause to check your mail – an invoice from Hayek that you skim past with a shudder, and a priority letter from Vas. Frowning, you tear open the envelop and skim the contents. Dated from the previous day, Vas is claiming to have the results from his inquiries. Every evening, he'll be at the Medicine for a few hours to discuss matters. And, you suspect, to have a few drinks. A few dozen.

Folding the letter, you put it in your pocket and check the lobby clock. Enough time for a brief nap, and then you can be off to the Medicine.

-

Vas seems unusually quiet and sombre when you meet him, returning your greeting but otherwise saying little for a while. Nodding towards a discrete table in the far corner of the Medicine, he drinks down the rest of his beer and leads you across. Sitting down, glancing about, he finally speaks.

[1/2]

>>1267666

“Met with your noble friend today,” he begins, his voice pitched low, “No real progress to speak of – early days yet, he says. Can't say I noticed much difference with that cousin of his either, but again... too early to expect a miracle. Still, he seems confident that things are going to work out okay. His “personal” research...” Pausing, Vas shakes his head. “Won't say a damn thing about that,” he continues, “Can't blame him for wanting to keep it quiet, mind you.”

No, you agree, it's not the sort of thing you'd want to spread about. Still, as interesting as it is, you weren't here to learn about Solberg's research.

“Aye, I was getting to that. I put the word out, discretely enough, but I didn't get much back. Not surprising, really, but I did get a few bites,” pausing again, he looks you in the eye, “This is important, aye? Seriously important?”

That's right, you tell him, it's something you have to do.

Sighing, Vas takes a small envelope out of his pocket and places it on the table, sliding it across to you. “Capain Titus Gore,” he begins, “And no, I'm pretty sure that isn't the name he was born with. His ship is the Abaddon, a pretty reliable little vessel by all accounts. It'll get you where you need to go, and Gore is willing to take you as far as you like.”

Really, you ask, he knows how far north you're trying to go?

“Aye, he knows, and he didn't back off,” Vas offers a grim smile, “Should tell you a thing or two about the man. Still, he's in Port Daud for the next while – between jobs, he said. I don't reckon you'll be able to find a better option, even if you spent the rest of the year asking about. That envelope there, I noted down all the details just in case. Figured you might want something to hold onto. Any questions you have about the man...”

>No, this should be fine. I'll meet him for myself, then see about making a decision
>What sort of work does this Gore usually do?
>Any idea why he's willing to take the job?
>You don't like the man, do you?
>I did have a question, yes... (Write in)
>Other

>>1267670
>>What sort of work does this Gore usually do?
>>Any idea why he's willing to take the job?

>>1267670
>What sort of work does this Gore usually do?
>Any idea why he's willing to take the job?
>You don't like the man, do you?

>>1267670
>Abaddon
This screams bad idea.

>>1267670
>What sort of work does this Gore usually do?
>>Any idea why he's willing to take the job?
>>You don't like the man, do you?

So, you ask, what sort of work does this Gore usually do?

“That depends on who you ask. He considers himself an independent trader, one who deals in small amounts of luxury goods. Most of the time, as I understand it, he runs between the colonies and the Free States, but he does odd jobs up in the north as well. I'm willing to bet that he heard about Tyrant – or whatever they're calling it these days – and wanted to see what he could loot. Nasty business.”

Oh yes, you agree mildly, who would think of dealing in looted northern treasures?

“Alright, point taken,” Vas grunts, “What I'm saying is, Gore doesn't have particularly high standards when it comes to making a profit. Judging by some of the stories I've heard, he's happily put weapons in enemy hands – southern rebels, as well as northerners. He's never had the law coming down on him, but that just means he's smart or knows exactly who to bribe.”

From first impressions, you can't exactly see why Gore would be the type to take a job like this. There's no profit in it, for one thing, and the danger is enough to turn away most. He can't be that smart, if he's still willing to sign up... or he's a lot smarter than you think. Any idea why he'd be willing to take this job, you ask Vas, any suggestion of what he hopes to get out of it?

“A lot of sailors get a taste for adventure after a while. Spend long enough in the north, you start to think about travelling even further out. Sure, you know the risks, but...” shrugging, Vas gives you a vague and helpless gesture, “Some folks, the temptation never really goes away. Maybe Gore fancies himself a pioneer. I do know this, though – he likes Wolves.”

That can't be right, you laugh, nobody likes Wolves. Even other Wolves don't like Wolves.

“I'm telling you, when I mentioned that a Hunter might be going along, he got that much more interested. He's smart enough not to play at being a Hunter himself, but I've heard that the lifestyle fascinates him,” Vas leans back, raising a hand to signal another round of drinks, “You might have to humour him a little, tell a few tall tales to get on his good side... if he has a good side, that is.”

Doubt niggles at you, gnawing away even as a fresh pair of glasses are set down in front of you. That's it then, you press, no other reasons he can think of?

“Hell, Henryk, I don't know the man that well!” Vas scowls, “And considering the situation, I don't figure you've got much choice. Sometimes, you've got to make a shitty deal to get ahead – that's just how this business works.”

Alright, you reply in an attempt to mollify him, point taken. He doesn't really like the man, you guess after a moment, does he?

At that, Vas' expression only darkens.

[1/2]

>>1267750
Noble Knights is probably carrying some kind of artifact or ancient weapon. We can probably pay Gore with that.

>>1267750

“Let me give you a sensible answer,” Vas begins after a moment, “I don't know him well enough to dislike him. Now, putting aside logical and just listening to my gut instinct? Hell no, I don't like him – just thinking about him puts me on edge. I'm prepared to do a lot in order to get by, we both know that, but I have a few lines that I'm not prepared to cross. Either because of the risk involved, or because I can't stomach it, there are a few things I won't do. Gore... I can't say the same about him.”

You're starting to see why he was so reluctant to give you the name.

“I'm going to give you a warning, here and now,” lowering his voice, Vas' frown deepens, “Gore didn't mention anything about asking for payment, but you'd be wise to keep something in mind. Put some money aside, or prepare yourself for some ugly favours. If you don't need them... all the better.”

Acknowledging his advice with a nod, you consider the issue. Your final target might have a few items of value – ancient weapons, perhaps – that could turn a good profit, keep Gore off your back. There's no telling what else you might find there, in those grim northern reaches. Still, Vas has a point – if you prepare for the worst, you might end up pleasantly surprised.

“So that's that,” Vas decides, clearly glad to be done with the subject, “You've got the details, now go and get some sleep – you sure as hell look like you need it!”

-

Taking his advice, you linger at the bar just long enough to finish your beer before heading back to the tenement. When you hear bright, lively voices coming from inside your apartment, however, you know that resting will have to wait for a while. Sighing faintly to yourself, you open the door and step inside.

Around the table, sipping on fragrant tea and picking at freshly made biscuits, Alyssia and Lize both wave their greetings. A third cup has been laid out for you, and Alyssia is quick to fill it.

“You're looking well,” she lies, “Like you've been, ah, working very hard. Being productive is good, though!”

“The League lives and breathes through your duty,” Lize adds, quoting from some old piece of propaganda. The motivating effect is somewhat lessened by the crumbs clinging to her chin, however.

“Anyway, I hope you don't mind my stopping my. I heard that you were back, so I thought it might be nice to catch up with tea and cake. It's a little late, I know, but...” offering a harmless shrug, Alyssia nudges the plate of treats a little close, “So what have you been up to lately?”

>About the usual, really. Where do you want me to start?
>Have you been having any strange dreams lately?
>I wondered, do you know anything about the far north? The far, far north, I mean
>Other

>>1267835
>About the usual, really. Where do you want me to start?
"You might be getting a new neighbor soon Alyssia."

>Have you been having any strange dreams lately? Either of you? Black ice and all that?

>I wondered, do you know anything about the far north? The far, far north, I mean

>>1267835
>About the usual, really. Where do you want me to start?
>Have you been having any strange dreams lately?
>I wondered, do you know anything about the far north? The far, far north, I mean

>>1267835
>>About the usual, really. Where do you want me to start?
>>Have you been having any strange dreams lately?

>>1267835
>I wondered, do you know anything about the far north? The far, far north, I mean

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About the usual really, you reply dryly as you take one of the biscuits, where should you start?

“Oh, you gotta start with all the gory details,” Lize nods eagerly, grinning to herself, “I bet Alyssia would love to hear all about that stuff. Tell her about the whale, that was pretty neat! Didn't it, like, turn itself inside out and stuff?”

“Please,” Alyssia winces, looking faintly ill, “I'm not sure if that's suitable for the dinner table, do you? I, ah, I think maybe some of the nicer news would be better...”

Nice news, you think, that's not a very common thing. As you think, you take a bite out of the thin ginger biscuit, chewing carefully. Definitely not something that Lize made, you decide. There is something, you tell Alyssia after swallowing, she might be getting a new neighbour soon. You don't want to say too much now, however – it might spoil the surprise.

“Oh? Well, there are plenty of spare apartments,” Alyssia gives you a faintly puzzled look, “I'll do my best to make them feel welcome, whoever this new tenant might be. Um, should I start to... prepare anything?”

It's still early, you reply with a shrug, no sense in hurrying anything along. You've made a few preparations of your own, that should be enough for the time being. It's not a big deal, you were more interested in how things had been here. Namely, has she been having any strange dreams lately? She should know the sort, you add, black ice and all that sort of thing. In fact, that goes for either of them – anything worth noting?

“Yeah, I got nothing. I mean, that sounds like the sort of thing that I'd remember,” Lize shrugs, eyeing up the plate of biscuits, “Still, I can guess what you're talking about. That spooky stuff of yours again, right?”

“Now that you mention it,” Alyssia begins carefully, pushing the plate across to Lize, “I have been dreaming more than usual, lately, but...” Pursing her lips, she pauses to pick her next words with care. “She hasn't been there,” the northerner continues, “At least, if she has, she hasn't shown herself to me. All I can sense is a great emptiness, a great sense of distance. I've never dreamed of that other place more... but I've never felt it less. I'm sorry, I'm not making any sense, am I?” Concluding with a nervous laugh, Alyssia busies herself with refilling everyone's teacups.

She's making sense, you assure her with a slow nod, you know exactly what she's talking about. It's because things are almost over, you explain, there's just one beast left. After that, everything is going to change.

“I...” freezing, Alyssia stops just short of filling her cup. A drop of tea gathers at the mouth of the pot, growing fat and falling. Breaking out of her trance, Alyssia looks up at you. “Well then,” she murmurs, “What can I do to help?”

[1/2]

>>1267942

Most of what you need, you've already prepared for. You have directions, carved into your heart like marks on a map, and you have a way of getting there – no matter how dubious it might be. All you really need now is a little information. With that in mind, you meet Alyssia's eye and ask your question. You were wondering, you tell her, if she had anything else she could tell you about the north?

“The north?” she frowns, “You mean, the far north?”

Right, you agree, the far FAR north to be precise. About as far north as anyone can go... and maybe a little further than that. Has she ever heard any old stories about what the world might be like, up there?

“I don't know...” she murmurs, “What you're talking about is a matter of myth and legend, there are no stories, nothing with any credibility, of people travelling there and returning. As far as I know, and as far as the old tales go, the world ends that far up. You're not seriously going there, are you?”

You don't have much choice, you reply grimly, the beast isn't going to come to you. Besides, you'll be fine – you've got your southern friend keeping an eye on you. She hasn't failed you this far, and you have every confidence in her strength.

“I, ah, I see,” Alyssia looks vaguely uncertain, but she doesn't raise any arguments, “I wish I could help you more, but this is... unprecedented. Uncharted territory, I don't even think that the maps show that far up!”

They don't, you confirm, but you're going up there regardless.

An awkward silence descends, as heavy as a leaden shroud. After a long moment, Lize is the one to break the silence. “So!” she announces brightly, “Who wants another biscuit?”

>Sorry about this, but I'm going to have to pause here. Got a hell of a headache, and I need to a lie down. I'll try and get back as soon as possible, but I don't know when that might be

>>1268038
Thanks for running
Don't let the Curse get you

Peace and quiet at last.

Alyssia departed not long after the conversation came to its natural end, leaving the plate of treats for you to finish in your own time. A short while after that, Lize slunk off to bed – to your bed, to be precise. With no will for a fight, you let her take it and sit up for a while longer at the table. Idly picking at the various biscuits, more out of restlessness than hunger, you take out a pad of paper and turn to a blank page. You've got a list to make.

First, you start with a list of people you know who might benefit from the Giant's blood, but it ends up being a depressingly short list. Setting that aside for later – you can make a more accurate list once Solberg has done a little more research – you move onto the next matter. It would be exaggerating to call it a will, but you can't think what else to call it. Instructions, perhaps, just in case you don't come back from the north.

Maybe Alyssia's words have put you in a dark mood, but it seems like a sensible precaution to make. Now that you're sitting down to try and write things out, though, the words just don't seem to come. After sitting and staring at the blank sheet of paper for a while longer, you give up and seek out a more comforting way to pass the time.

There's enough mazka left in the jug to refill your flask, with a little bit left. Sloshing a small amount of those dregs into a chipped cup, you return to your joyless paperwork. As you drink, the world slowly takes on that familiar fisheye lens look. When you look back up, Revelle sits opposite you.

“So!” the spirit gloats, “Looks like you need my help again – what would you do without me?”

Probably fall into a nightmarish world of suffering and insanity, you think to yourself, and that's putting it lightly. She's right, you say aloud, you're going back into dangerous waters. She's ready for that?

“Ready for whatever you can throw at me, boss!” Revelle says, offering you a jaunty salute that causes her long sleeve to flap about like a flag, “So, when do we start?”

Frowning, you look down at your incomplete list for a long while before crumpling it up and throwing it in the trash. You WILL come back, you decide, and you'll handle anything you need to do in person. Dropping your pen, you look straight at Revelle – with only her veil of yellow silk keeping you from looking her in the eye.

Soon, you tell her, you're starting real soon.

>I'm going to close things here, I don't think I'll be able to do any more today. I'll get a new thread up on Friday, and that should be enough to carry us through to the end. Maybe.
>Thanks to everyone who posted today, sorry for the pauses!

>>1268361
No problem Moloch, thanks for running.

>>1268361
Thanks for running!

>>1268361
>First, you start with a list of people you know who might benefit from the Giant's blood

I guess in order of priority it would be something like.

Lize
Henryk
Camilla
Iosefka
Lize's parents
Hyde
Uriah
Ilse

Mirrah?
Lars?

Thanks for running.

>>1268420
There's also Hartmann and Jagoda, who were instrumental in our safe return with the blood.

>>1268420
Stefan I think his name was, the dumb kid we sent North.

We don't have many friends.

>>1268560
>>1268424
Good calls. We can give some to them if we have enough.

The issue is, is Giant's Blood a permanent fix for blood degradation or is it temporary and need to be reinjected once degradation starts setting in again?

And does it clear just the degradation or also the potency? Would Camilla lose her powers? Would Henryk lose his +20 mod for combat?

>>1268595
I guess if we were feeling a bit experimental, we could give it to someone like Stefan first. See what happens and all that. Unless Solberg's tests figure all that shit out for us.