>>3356154
>>An experienced freelancer, for hire by the powers that be whenever there’s something unconventional to bury.

>>3356154
>>A fresh acolyte of an ancient brotherhood keen to begin your crusade against those who would threaten humanity.

>>3356154
This is probably going to be left overnight by the way

>>3356154
>>A fresh acolyte of an ancient brotherhood keen to begin your crusade against those who would threaten humanity.

>>3356154
>>A fresh acolyte of an ancient brotherhood keen to begin your crusade against those who would threaten humanity.

Vote Called. Writing.

File: Portable_Atelier.jpg (104 KB, 800x750)

104 KB JPG

May 3, 20XX.
A Farmer’s Compound on the outskirts of Los Angeles

Ideally, members of the Knights of the New Covenant Temple were accompanied for their first dozen or so missions by a mentor, a seasoned knight of the Templar. A few dozen missions was widely considered to be enough for a novice to mature into a capable champion of humanity, strong enough to operate independently in the hidden world of the arcane and triumph.

The world has grown too quickly for the New Temple to keep up. This is your third mission and you are operating alone.

The sun slowly sets as you observe the activities in the farm compound, lying in the grass atop a nearby hill. Dressed non-ubiquitously in hiking gear, you don’t look out of place at all. Then again, that is the goal.

The farm you spent the day observing was confirmed in your briefing to be a confirmed site of cult activity, the dangerous kind, not the chicken-sacrificing, kool-aid drinking kind. Already, the farm looks suspicious. For one, there wasn’t much on it besides a massive, dilapidated-looking warehouse with a farmhouse sitting just out of reach of it’s shadows. The fields are too small for any profitable harvest. The small city of tents and trailers sitting in the middle of it can’t be helping much with crop yield either.

Two years for a gaggle of madmen with arcane knowledge to run amok …
You’re here to eliminate any risk of collateral damage. More importantly, you’re here to do it discreetly.

But first, you had to find the cult activity in the first place. Just like you were trained to, you’ll infiltrate the compound, investigate, and then destroy everything immediately dangerous and secure everything else for later retrieval by your order.

But where to start?
>That warehouse looked big enough to contain an entire ritual chamber and then some, but no one’s walked inside all day.
>The farmhouse looks awfully suspicious. You’ve been watching people enter and exit all day, some of them looked very young.
>The inhabitants of the farm haven’t been doing much except wait listlessly in their little tent/trailer park setup. Fishy.
>You’ll wait and observe a little longer. This is too little information to act rashly.

>>3357170
>That warehouse looked big enough to contain an entire ritual chamber and then some, but no one’s walked inside all day.

Lack of activity means we should be able to snoop there unnoticed. If there is nothing there we risk no detection. I hope.

>>3357170
>The farmhouse looks awfully suspicious. You’ve been watching people enter and exit all day, some of them looked very young.

>>3357170
>>The farmhouse looks awfully suspicious. You’ve been watching people enter and exit all day, some of them looked very young.

Apologies on my planned erratic update schedule
Expect updates daily, frequently and sporadically.

>>3357170
>The farmhouse looks awfully suspicious. You’ve been watching people enter and exit all day, some of them looked very young.

Updating from abroad

>The farmhouse looks awfully suspicious. You’ve been watching people enter and exit all day, some of them looked very young.

Night is rapidly falling and soon, you won’t be able to continue to observe the farmhouse from a distance. It was time for more proactive investigations. It’s no use being overly cautious, you’re a fully trained Knight of the New Templar.

Besides, the flow of people into the farmhouse worried you. All day, people had been entering the farmhouse in groups. Almost always, the groups consisted both of adults and children. At least twenty people had entered the farmhouse, and you had only seen five return.

You pause to turn your windbreaker inside out before putting it on again, revealing it’s dark, stab-proof kevlar lining. Under the cover of the darkness, you descend the hill, climb over the chicken-wire fence, navigate the shadows of the farm compound, and hide in the shadowy space between the warehouse and the farmhouse.

You’ve made it this far undetected, but infiltrating the main building of a cult will be significantly harder than sneaking through a field.

The question is how you’ll get in …
>Kick down the front door, of course … well, the back door in this case.
>That window looks awfully loose. Maybe you can loosen it a bit more and enter that way.
>Wait for someone to exit.
>Is the door even locked?

>>3358066
>That window looks awfully loose. Maybe you can loosen it a bit more and enter that way.

>>3358066
>Is the door even locked?

Damn, only two votes?

>>3358066
>That window looks awfully loose. Maybe you can loosen it a bit more and enter that way.

>>3358066
That window looks awfully loose. Maybe you can loosen it a bit more and enter that way.

Vote called. Writing.

File: Doorknob.jpg (11 KB, 852x480)

11 KB JPG

>That window looks awfully loose. Maybe you can loosen it a bit more and enter that way.

Looking at the old farmhouse, you were glad you were only dealing with a backwater cult. Only an amateur would leave their main hub so unsecure that an intruder could enter through a loose window … unless the farmhouse wasn’t their main hub.

If you were dealing with an opponent even a little more sophisticated than the one you were currently facing, you would have suspected a trap … but no sophisticated opponent would have ever let their movements get traced to a location where they were still active. From the tents in the farm fields to the noticeable disappearance of its inhabitants, the compound practically reeked of suspicion.

The window was a sliding panel at ground level. If it had been maintained properly, you wouldn’t have been able to open it silently without some tools. It appeared the Cult had other concerns than maintaining their infrastructure. However, the glass was cracked so badly that you only needed to draw your tactical knife from your pocket, shove it in one of the larger fissures, and slowly pull it back to not make any noise.

Next, you made short work of the mosquito netting as well, cutting it loose with your tactical knife. Silently, you slither inside the farmhouse, landing catlike in a room in what appeared to be a basement storage room.

The room you entered was remarkably mundane, You didn’t know what you were expecting. A room full of torture instruments? A pantry filled with cured human corpses? All you could see was sawdust, old furniture, and empty cardboard boxes.

You wait, ready for any investigators who would have heard your entry. A second passes. Then two. Satisfied that no one noticed your entry, you creep to the door of the room and reach for the doorknob, ready to enter the farmhouse proper.

But something makes you pause … Fear.

>You withdraw your hand from the doorknob to cross yourself. “No weapon that is formed against thee shall prosper.” you whisper quickly. You gather your resolve. From the moment you cross the door, you are an instrument of God’s will.

>It’s okay … you can do this. You are a champion of mankind, a member of the Templar. You’re sure the training you recieved your mentors will carry you through.

>You tell yourself that anyone on their first solo mission would be afraid. After all, there isn’t any other reason for your fear. You’re only facing an incompetent cult, there won’t be any threats your training, equipment, and stab-proof jacket can’t handle.

>Swallowing your fear, you examine the room you’re in one last time before you turn the doorknob.

>On second thought, maybe this is a trap.

>>3359445
>You withdraw your hand from the doorknob to cross yourself. “No weapon that is formed against thee shall prosper.” you whisper quickly. You gather your resolve. From the moment you cross the door, you are an instrument of God’s will.

>>3359445
Swallowing your fear, you examine the room you’re in one last time before you turn the doorknob

Welp, I guess I'll leave the vote open overnight.

>>3359445
>You withdraw your hand from the doorknob to cross yourself. “No weapon that is formed against thee shall prosper.” you whisper quickly. You gather your resolve. From the moment you cross the door, you are an instrument of God’s will.

>>3359445
>You withdraw your hand from the doorknob to cross yourself. “No weapon that is formed against thee shall prosper.” you whisper quickly. You gather your resolve. From the moment you cross the door, you are an instrument of God’s will.

Vote called. Writing.

>You withdraw your hand from the doorknob to cross yourself. “No weapon that is formed against thee shall prosper.” you whisper quickly. You gather your resolve. From the moment you cross the door, you are an instrument of God’s will.

[+1 Pious]

“No weapon that is formed against thee shall prosper.” you whisper quickly. Your Mentor taught you many things, and prayer before battle was one of them. It calmed the heart, stilled the soul, and strengthened resolve. Even among the Templar, many forgot the importance of templar in the secular age. Many forgot their function as the instrument of God’s will, not finding His righteousness to bolster their own.

But a quick prayer was all he taught, and a quick prayer was all you had time for. Finished, you felt calmer, serene. The Lord would look upon your handiwork tonight and smile.

You open the door slowly, careful not to let the door squeak in old, rusty hinges. Any sounds the door made would be inaudible among the nighttime sounds of the house. Old Farmhouses were noisy even on their own with the sound of water running through old pipes, ancient light bulbs humming, and worn beams creaking as the house shifted in it’s foundation.

You find yourself in a dark underground hallway. Carefully, you close the door behind you so it won’t close by itself and squeak. You pause to consider which fork of the hallway to go down before randomly deciding to follow the left fork of the hallway. The hallway is barely illuminated by a single light fixture suspended from it’s low ceiling. All around you are the exposed wooden beams which supported the weight of the house above you. You see exposed wires alongside the beams.

Again, you wonder if the Cult is even trying to keep the farmhouse in a liveable condition.

A short ways down the hallway, you find it turning sharply at a ninety degree angle.
And just beyond that turn, you hear footsteps ahead of you, just around the corner.

“And I’m telling you, Olivia, there’s nothing down in the basement. It’s just your imagination overreacting to Evelyn and the others moving away …” a gruff, adult voice says, in that tone adults reserved for speaking to exasperating children. You hear a quiet “mmm,” in response, a typical response for a chagrined young child.

If the two of them continue where they’re going, you’ll be seen. You have to act fast. You reach into your pocket, your hands brushing against the …

Choose two. You’re already equipped with your tactical knife, but there is room in the pockets of your jacket for two other weapons.

>Slim handle of your ritual dagger. A sharpened stiletto-like blade of sanctified silver, it is a ward against the supernatural.

>Hardened plastic hilt of your folding straight sword. The only two things your master consistently praised you for was your piousness and your adept swordplay.

>Unfamiliar grip of a compact pistol. While small-arms are usually ineffective against most supernatural threats outside of specific situations, you figured it would be more practical than any of your standard equipment against the all-too-human cultists.

>Leather spine of your pocket grimoire. A book of sanctified spells, just having it in your hand filled your head with practical arcane knowledge.

You intend to ...

>Keep your hand in your pocket and attempt to pass yourself off as a Cultist. There were so many tents in the field that you doubted that every member was familiar with every other member’s face. Hopefully they won’t question why you’re wearing your windbreaker inside.

>Attack (who? With what?)

>Actually, now would be a good time to hurry back the way you came.

>>3360186
>>Hardened plastic hilt of your folding straight sword. The only two things your master consistently praised you for was your piousness and your adept swordplay.
>>Unfamiliar grip of a compact pistol. While small-arms are usually ineffective against most supernatural threats outside of specific situations, you figured it would be more practical than any of your standard equipment against the all-too-human cultists.

>Keep your hand in your pocket and attempt to pass yourself off as a Cultist. There were so many tents in the field that you doubted that every member was familiar with every other member’s face. Hopefully they won’t question why you’re wearing your windbreaker inside.

>>3360186
>>3360186
>Hardened plastic hilt of your folding straight sword. The only two things your master consistently praised you for was your piousness and your adept swordplay.
And
>Leather spine of your pocket grimoire. A book of sanctified spells, just having it in your hand filled your head with practical arcane knowledge.

>Keep your hand in your pocket and attempt to pass yourself off as a Cultist. There were so many tents in the field that you doubted that every member was familiar with every other member’s face. Hopefully they won’t question why you’re wearing your windbreaker inside

>>3360186

>Hardened plastic hilt of your folding straight sword. The only two things your master consistently praised you for was your piousness and your adept swordplay.


>Leather spine of your pocket grimoire. A book of sanctified spells, just having it in your hand filled your head with practical arcane knowledge


>Keep your hand in your pocket and attempt to pass yourself off as a Cultist. There were so many tents in the field that you doubted that every member was familiar with every other member’s face. Hopefully they won’t question why you’re wearing your windbreaker inside.
Guse we are heading to the basement

>>3360311
For clarification, you're already in the basement

Vote called. Writing.

File: Grimoire.jpg (291 KB, 1060x794)

291 KB JPG

>Hardened plastic hilt of your folding straight sword. The only two things your master consistently praised you for was your piousness and your adept swordplay.
>Leather spine of your pocket grimoire. A book of sanctified spells, just having it in your hand filled your head with practical arcane knowledge

>Keep your hand in your pocket and attempt to pass yourself off as a Cultist. There were so many tents in the field that you doubted that every member was familiar with every other member’s face. Hopefully they won’t question why you’re wearing your windbreaker inside.

As you awaited for the pair to inevitably round the corner, your fingers brush against the leather cover of your pocket grimoire before tightening around the folding straight sword in your pocket. In a flash, you could have had either in your hand as needed, ready to recite insidious spells or attack with a meter-long steel blade.

A shadow on the ground emerged from behind the corner, followed by the rotund body of a middle-aged man. He didn’t look like a Cult member, more like tired dad from the suburbs of LA. The mental image in your head was so disassociated with the insanity of a Cult that you pitied him for obstructing your holy mission. He probably wasn’t even doing it intentionally.

“See Olivia?” He called back behind the corner, where the girl was presumably cowering in fear, “There’s nothing down here, so go back to your room with the other kids … wait!”

Ah. It seemed he finally noticed you as he stares at you in shock, then confusion. “Who are you?” He asks.

You almost whip out your sword and kill him before he could alert anyone else of your presence. Thankfully The most advanced training you received from your mentors was not in hand-to-hand combat or spellcraft. It was in your methodology of discreet force and subtle solutions.

So you lie …

>“My name is [Insert Name]. I’m new here, and I got lost.

>”Huh? Don’t you recognize me? I’m [Insert Name], we met in the camp.

>”We haven’t met, but the Pastor* called me in. I’m [Insert Name], what’s yours?

Accepting sensible name suggestions. If none are suggested or picked, I guess I’ll make one myself

*You know who the leader of the Cult is. More on that later.

Also roll 5 1d10s. The higher the number the better.

2 success - He doesn't believe you and treats you like an intruder
3 success - He is suspicious and asks more questions
4 success - He believes you but is wary of you
5 success - He believes you completely

Rolled 8, 7, 6, 10, 9 = 40 (5d10)

>>3360434
>“My name is [tristan]. I’m new here, and I got lost.

>>3360448
So what number is a pass?
Cose i think i rolled a 5 pass

>>3360471
Depends on the option you pick and it's plausibility.

>>3360492
K

5 Successes
One Vote

Update coming soon

I should have specified. 5 rolls of a 1d10. Regardless, there's only one vote so far so it doesn't really matter

>>3361060
Voting for names/options is still open

Fuck it!
Writing!

>“My name is [Tristan]. I’m new here, and I got lost.”

You quickly assemble your face into an expression of awkwardness before rubbing the back of your head as if embarrassed. “My name is Tristan.” you reply “I’m new here and I got lost.”

“Lost?” The Man perks up a bit, as if eager to help you. “Well, where are you going? Oh, I’m Aiden by the way … and this here is my Olivia.”

“Hey,” He hisses at his daughter “Come on, introduce yourself.”

The man’s daughter, Olivia, emerges from behind the corner, takes one look at you, and hides behind her father. She looked around 7-ish years old.

“Where were we?” Aiden muttered to himself “Ah, yes! Where were you looking for?”

>”The washroom.” A fairly cliched answer, but who could blame you for looking for the washroom?

>”The kitchen.” You were looking for a late-night snack … in a windbreaker … in the the basement.

>”I’m looking for the Pastor.”

>Other

Other should have been an option from the beginning. Unless choosing between items to upgrade your character or engaged in crunch-related gameplay, you can just assume that Other is always an option.

>>3361300
>”The washroom.” A fairly cliched answer, but who could blame you for looking for the washroom?

>>3361300
>”I’m looking for the Pastor.”
We got the guy to completely trust us, maybe he can take us straight to the Pastor, if we're eliminating him that is.

>>3361344
Il be more into looking for the monster they got in the basment. As hardly anyone comes back out of it

>>3361300
>”The kitchen.” You were looking for a late-night snack … in a windbreaker … in the the basement.

>>3361344
>>3361375
Discussion is good. To quicken the voting process, it would be nice to post your reasons for picking a choice. Still not required though.

>>3361375
True, but we are one man, outnumbered even if we have God on our side. I suppose in that case we should observe what we're dealing with, but not to engage it if at all possible. Hopefully we might be able to call some kind of reinforcements once we've cut the head from the snake and gotten those who can be saved to safety.

>>3361521
Just to let you know, if there was extra manpower to spare, it would be with you right now.
You're not getting any reinforcements unless you find something really big.

>>3361300
>The washroom.” A fairly cliched answer, but who could blame you for looking for the washroom?

>>3361578
That's true, maybe I am expecting the worst to happen too quickly.

>>3361602
This applies to both the Cult and your own Order. Even though the Cult's defences are rather lacking, they still outnumber you by quite a bit.

Vote called. Writing.

File: Tristan's Sword (Imagine_(...).jpg (26 KB, 500x336)

26 KB JPG

>The washroom.” A fairly cliched answer, but who could blame you for looking for the washroom?

“Well …” You stare at the floor in mock embarrassment, “I’ve been looking for a free washroom.”

Aiden gives a tired laugh. “Ah, I guess there aren’t enough in here for all the new arrivals in the house. Guess the portable toilets outside aren’t good enough for that bunch … had a hard time finding one my first night in the house as well.”

Some things stood out to you. New arrivals in the house not equal in status to the rest of the cult? Why were people from the tents and trailers outside being pulled into the house never to be seen again if they were just being invited to live inside the farmhouse?

And how was no one in the camp outside noticing that anything was wrong? Only so much could be attributed to the malign charisma of the Cult Leader … But the level of unnatural thought-influence that would be needed to con an entire cult … that was worrying. It was definitely more than this Cult should have had access to.

Aiden rambled on, oblivious to your deep thought. “There’s two washrooms in the basement, but one’s out of order. The other … the Pastor reserved it for his personal use. I’m pretty sure there’s a free one upstairs though. Follow me. Me and Olivia are heading that direction anyways.”

Aiden turned around and began walking back the way he came from. You follow.

You have time to talk about one subject with Aiden.

>Question him about the people living in the house

>Question him about the Pastor

>”Aiden, you look awfully tired.” He does, strangely aged as well, especially for a dad whose daughter only looked seven.

>Pat Olivia on the head. “Hi, I’m Tristan. You’re Olivia, right? I hope we get along.”

>Remain quiet

>Other

>>3361724
>Question him about the Pastor

>>3361724
Pat Olivia on the head. “Hi, I’m Tristan. You’re Olivia, right? I hope we get along.”
Kids most likely to tell us things they shouldn't

>>3361724
>>Pat Olivia on the head. “Hi, I’m Tristan. You’re Olivia, right? I hope we get along.”

Vote called. Writing.

>Pat Olivia on the head. “Hi, I’m Tristan. You’re Olivia, right? I hope we get along.”

Aiden led you through the basement to a cramped flight of stairs. He seemed to have accepted your presence, but you weren’t sure about Olivia. It would be good to get everyone you could to trust you.

So you pet her on the head, lightly as if she were a cat you were afraid would scratch you. If you remembered correctly, young girls liked headpats. Then again, you didn’t have much experience with young girls, or girls in general. The only females you had been around were senior members of the Templar, Throughout your training, girls and boys had been separated and tutored separately, living in different quarters as was right in the eyes of The Lord.

Instead of enjoying the headpat, all Olivia did was turn around in confusion as she climbed up the stairs, stopping You found yourself staring into her shy, wide-open blue eyes. You weren’t sure how to respond. This was not what you were trained for.

Shoot, what did people usually say to kids the first time they met them?

“Hi, my name is Tristan.” You manage an awkward smile. “You’re Olivia, right?” When she only nodded shyly in reply, you quickly tried to move the conversation along by yourself. “We’ll be living in the same house together from now on, so let’s get along, okay?”

Aiden nudged his daughter gently. “What do you say to Tristan, Olivia?”

“Okay. Let’s get along.” Olivia responded reluctantly. You’ve never known a small child before, but did they usually look this … down?

Desperate to escape being held in low esteem by a grade schooler, you ask the second most normal question that came to your mind after asking for her hame.

“What grade are you in?” You ask.

“I was in Grade One.” Ada shyly replied.

You only have time to ask Ada a quick question before you reach the bathroom

>”You were in Grade One?” What did she mean she was in Grade One? You wonder what the life of a child in the Cult was like

>”How do you like your Pastor, Olivia?” Okay, a little unsubtle, but a kid in grade one wouldn’t notice that. Plus, Aiden won’t question you, he seems to trust you already.

>”What’s your favorite animal?” What are you even supposed to talk to kids about? You were trained in basic interrogation, not whatever this bullshit was.

>You proceed to ask Olivia as many questions as you wanted, uncaring of how much that delayed your arrival to the washroom. (What do you ask?)

>Ask Aiden something (What?)

>Say nothing. The situation is awkward enough as is.

>Other

That's it for tonight. I'll leave the vote open and try to update in the morning.

>>3362094
>>”How do you like your Pastor, Olivia?” Okay, a little unsubtle, but a kid in grade one wouldn’t notice that. Plus, Aiden won’t question you, he seems to trust you already.

Only one vote so far?
Will leave open until when I get back later tonight
Probably only going to be able to update once or twice today

>>3362142
This sounds good.

>>3362094
>”You were in Grade One?” What did she mean she was in Grade One? You wonder what the life of a child in the Cult was like

>>3362367
supporting this, maybe we can find out what happens to the children in here

>>3362094
>”How do you like your Pastor, Olivia?” Okay, a little unsubtle, but a kid in grade one wouldn’t notice that. Plus, Aiden won’t question you, he seems to trust you already.

>What kind of Studies are you doing now in place of Grade One?

Phoneposting. Counting >>3362361 as a vote. If it wasn't, no worries, i'll just rewrite the update.

>”How do you like your Pastor, Olivia?” Okay, a little unsubtle, but a kid in grade one wouldn’t notice that. Plus, Aiden won’t question you, he seems to trust you already.

The three of you start moving again, Aiden leading the way to the washroom.

Well, you might as well make the most of the opportunity to gather intelligence on the threat you were most concerned about.

Daniel Jones. The Pastor. Founder of The Church of the Living Bread. You were familiar with his background, having closely studied your briefing. A valedictorian of Seminary in 1995, he was an upstanding Pastor for a normal Baptist congregation for the beginning of his career. Ten years ago, every major denomination of the Christian Church disassociated themselves from him due to his radical teachings on the applications of the eucharist as a means of artificial apotheosis. He was revered as a prophet by the sect he gathered around himself with his formidable charisma.

“How do you like your Pastor, Olivia?” You ask as the three of you walk through a dusty, old parlour. Your question was primarily fishing for information, but you can’t deny wondering how the cult leader was like on a day-to-day basis.

“He’s nice …” Olivia replied. “He always tells me Bible stories.”

“Bible Stories?” You prompt Olivia

“Well, he used to … but now he’s busy and tired from his work all the time. Yesterday, he was grumpy.”

Aiden abruptly stops, interrupting your inquiry.

“Here’s the washroom.” He informs you, gesturing at a white door under the stairwell to the second floor. Sure enough, you can see a toilet bowl peeking out from behind the slightly ajar door.

“Can you find your way back to your room by yourself?”

>Stay and talk with Olivia. No, this isn’t strange at all.
>”Actually, I’m not sure if I can find my way back to my room. Could you quickly show me where it is?”

>”Yeah, I’m fine.” Go into the washroom and close the door behind you

>Other

>>3363053
>”Yeah, I’m fine.” Go into the washroom and close the door behind you

>>3363043
It was, don't worry.
>>3363053
>”Yeah, I’m fine.” Go into the washroom and close the door behind you
If these guys are out of the way, we can begin the mission proper, unless we have anymore questions.

Vote called. Writing.

>”Yeah, I’m fine.” Go into the washroom and close the door behind you.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” you reply. “Thanks for your help.”

“No problem.” Aiden replies. “Me and Olivia will go back to our rooms then.”

“Sure, go ahead.” You felt eager to part ways with the two and continue on your mission.

Aiden turned around and left. Olivia stared at you for a second before turning around to follow her father.

You close the door behind you and turn on the bathroom lights. Sighing, you sat down on top of the toilet seat. That was more exhausting than you would have expected it to be.

But you quickly regain your energy. Soon, you are ready to continue your mission: To seek out and eliminate any magical threats this Cult posed.

You pull out your Grimoire. You were unsure of how high a magic threat was, but having seen the Cult members and the discrepancy in their situation and the way they acted, you were sure that mundane tools might not prove sufficient to deal with all the threats you would face tonight.

At the very least, it wouldn’t hurt to have magical backup.

The Grimoire contains sanctified cantrips that can be temporarily memorized upon viewing their formulas. Choose two for Tristan to memorize for the night.

>Pilot Light - Tristan summons a small flame from the tip of his finger

>Zephyr - Tristan can create and control a soft breeze for a short period of time

>Telekine Nudge - Tristan can use his mind to pick up small objects for a short period of time

>Minor Healing - Tristan’s touch can heal very small wounds. Papercuts close and small bruises fade. Broken bones remain broken.

>Mental Jab - Upon touching the target’s head, Tristan can cause immense psychic pain

>Sleight of the Mind - Tristan can lace his words with arcane influence, convincing people to overlook small things

>Minute Sanctification - Tristan can sanctify something he touches, diminishing the flow of magic around it. The effect is limited in both size and scope.

>Minute Exorcism - Tristan can exorcise something he touches, dispelling any magic intrinsic to that object’s nature. The effect is not very strong against highly magical things.

After selecting your magic, you wonder where you should investigate.

>Upstairs. You presume that’s where the bedrooms are, and Aiden did mention something about new arrivals with higher status.

>The Ground floor. You’ve already seen parts of the basement. What naturally follows is exploring the floor directly above it.

>The Basement. Olivia said something about a washroom being reserved for the Pastor downstairs, as well as how he was always busy. Maybe he keeps his main arcane activities in the basement.

>>3363710
>Zephyr - Tristan can create and control a soft breeze for a short period of time
>Minute Exorcism - Tristan can exorcise something he touches, dispelling any magic intrinsic to that object’s nature. The effect is not very strong against highly magical things.
You can use the wind for a distraction, and I don't think there needs to be an explanation for why an exorcism spell would be useful.
I'm not sure whether we're still in the basement or on the ground floor now, but whichever one we're on currently is the one we should explore, we don't want to get blindsided by someone while we're looking for the Pastor.

>>3363729
You're upstairs, Aiden explained how both the washrooms in the basement were unavailable.

>>3363710
Minute Exorcism - Tristan can exorcise something he touches, dispelling any magic intrinsic to that object’s nature. The effect is not very strong against highly magical things.

>Sleight of the Mind - Tristan can lace his words with arcane influence, convincing people to overlook small things

>The Basement. Olivia said something about a washroom being reserved for the Pastor downstairs, as well as how he was always busy. Maybe he keeps his main arcane activities in the basement.

Welp, looks like there won't be an update anytime soon.
I'll update in the morning.

Also, for those of you who are wondering, the name of the Cult is a reference to Jesus comparing himself to living bread.
I admit the name sounds pretty strange though ...

Possible update in the morning

>>3364078
I thought it was a typo.
Oh geez they eating people?

>>3363710
>Sleight of the Mind - Tristan can lace his words with arcane influence, convincing people to overlook small things
>Minute Exorcism - Tristan can exorcise something he touches, dispelling any magic intrinsic to that object’s nature. The effect is not very strong against highly magical things.

>The Basement. Olivia said something about a washroom being reserved for the Pastor downstairs, as well as how he was always busy. Maybe he keeps his main arcane activities in the basement.

>>3363710
>Sleight of Mind
>Minute Exorcism

>The basement

>>3364324
Well, the Cult was founded on a reinterpretation of The Last Supper, as well as the ritual of Mass where people eat symbols of Jesus' flesh, so I think the name fits

Sorry for the late update.
Vote Called, Writing.

File: Door1.jpg (3.45 MB, 4000x3000)

3.45 MB JPG

>Sleight of the Mind - Tristan can lace his words with arcane influence, convincing people to overlook small things
>Minute Exorcism - Tristan can exorcise something he touches, dispelling any magic intrinsic to that object’s nature. The effect is not very strong against highly magical things.

>The Basement. Olivia said something about a washroom being reserved for the Pastor downstairs, as well as how he was always busy. Maybe he keeps his main arcane activities in the basement.

You pull out your Pocket Grimoire. Ornate and bound in a leather cover intricately detailed with wards of binding and sealing, the book was barely wider than the palm of your hand, barely thicker than your pinkie finger. Your mentor had compared it to a magical swiss army knife, full of practical tools but unsuited for combat.

You flip open the book, finding the relevant spells. The left page was always covered in neatly printed text, It didn’t look much different than a page from any other handbook aside from it’s esoteric descriptions of the function and applications of the spell. The actual spell was recorded on the right page, covered in an eye-watering symbolic pattern of fractal complexity. Just looking at it for a handful of seconds burned the incomprehensible process of casting the spell into your subconsciousness.

In that way, you memorize a spell for manipulating the perception of others as well as a minor exorcism. Already, you could feel the mental conditioning you received from your order pushing against the two spells held in your mind. It felt like the inside of your head had been filled with a warm, vibrating liquid which was scrubbing your mind clean. You doubted you’d recall how to cast a single spell by sunrise.

But that was enough time to finish what you had come here for. You stepped out of the washroom, retraced the path Aiden had led you on, and re-entered the basement. If you could find the Pastor or his work anywhere in the house, it would be in the basement. Why else would he keep an entire washroom for himself downstairs if it was not in use constantly, due to him always working close by and unwilling to abandon his research however briefly? More relevantly, the Earth on all sides would keep excess magical energy contained, allowing it to pool in the basement and be recycled. If there was research being conducted, it would be in the Basement.

1/2

2/2

By the time you returned to the entrance to the basement, the headache from flash-memorizing the spells had receded into the back of your mind, present, but nearly unnoticeable. In its wake, you felt your senses sharpen, ready to confront whatever you found in the basement.

The basement really wasn’t that big, it took you maybe a minute before you were pretty sure you were where you wanted to be: An old oak door with light pouring out from under it.

You could hear voices behind it.

“Really Daniel, you know Marion won’t like it. He expects more loyalty from people he’s generous to.” The voice was rough and raspy, intimidating and demanding. It was also directed to the Pastor.

“I don’t see what the fuss is …” came the reply. In contrast, this voice was a smooth, quiet baritone which gently oozed charisma.

You had done it. You had found The Pastor. But he was speaking to someone else, someone who claimed to have him in his debt?

>Keep quiet and keep listening.

>See if the door is unlocked.

>Kick down the door.

>Leave.

>Other.

>>3365438
Keep quiet and keep listening

>>3365438
Keep quiet and keep listening

>>3365438
>Keep quiet and keep listening.

Vote Called, Writing

>Keep quiet and keep listening.

You decided to keep listening for now.

“I thought this was what you people called ‘Just Business’” The baritone voice, presumably The Pastor, continued.

Something was strange about his voice though. You had studied recordings of his sermons, and it never sounded like this. Something was missing … his characteristic serene calmness. Daniel Jones was not known for fiery speeches, for stirring up and inspiring congregations. He was famous for his calming, soothing voice, which stilled and comforted all he talked to. But otherwise, the voice was a perfect match.

“It’s what Marion calls ‘an investment’” the raspy voice replied, “We help you get your materials, you help us expand our operations.”

“If you ask me, I think I’ve been plenty hospitable to you … Who’s been feeding you the past few nights? I have made the choicest lambs of my flock yours to do with as you please. Besides, what you provided doesn’t work, most of my progress is my own doing.”

“Ha …” The raspy voice laughed. “We’re not mages, we don’t mess with shit any fool could see they shouldn’t mess with, we just deliver the goods. Besides, you’re one to talk about feeding. Now, you piss off Marion, he’s going to be after your … wait! I smell someone outside!”

You realize that you’ve been detected, right outside The Pastor’s door. And seeing as you had been sniffed out, what was behind the door speaking to The Pastor probably wasn’t human.

You looked around you. You were in an empty corridor, devoid of anywhere to hide.

>Run away and hide somewhere in the basement.

>Try to explain that you’re a member of the Cult.

>Draw your weapon (Which One) and stand your ground.

>Draw your weapon (Which One) and kick down the door before they have a chance to react.

>Other

>>3366314
Try to explain that you’re a member of the Cult.

Probably won't be an update tomorrow morning
In fact, it may come quite late

>>3366314
>Try to explain that you’re a member of the Cult

>>3366314
>Try to explain that you’re a member of the Cult.

>Try to explain that you’re a member of the Cult

You hear the sound of footsteps from behind the door. You slip your hands into your pocket, ready to draw either your knife or straightsword at a moment’s notice.

Abruptly, the door opens. A thin, young-looking poked his face suspiciously out into the hallway, before catching sight of you and looking you straight in the eye. His gaze was undeniably vicious, and more than a little haughty-looking. He definitely didn’t look like a normal Cultist.

“Who the hell are you?” He asks

“I’m Tristan.” You reply “Sorry to disturb you, but I’m lost. Could you …”

“I thought Daniel asked you all to stay away from here,” The man interrupting you, not caring to hear any explanation you might give, “Get lost, and don’t come back …”

“Wait a minute, Nathan.” Came The Pastor’s voice from inside the room. Nathan visibly bristled at being told what to do by The Pastor.

The Pastor explained himself. “I can’t seem to remember that voice ... Tristan, son, why don’t you come in and let me see your face? I’m sorry if my memory isn't what it used to be.”

There it was. The characteristic, fatherly gentleness which was the foundation of The Pastor’s charisma. However it felt … off somehow, as if it was being faked, as if it was only imitated by someone who had heard The Pastor’s voice in a recording.

It didn’t help that your mind felt like it was smouldering, the feeling you felt whenever your conditioned mental defences rejected foreign magical influence. Nope, you didn’t feel welcome at all.

>Run away!

>Go into the room.

>”Pastor, I’m just looking for the washroom.” (Sleigh of the Mind)

>Knee the man in front of you in the balls

>Stab him!

>Other

>>3367654
>other
Stab both of them killing them then and there. And rummage through any library, archives and computers. Burn the place to the ground while making it look like an accident (propane stove with unlit burner releasing gas and half empty box of stogies laying near by and lighter) after you have found your lead thus erasing any physical evidence. Give nathans corpse your clothes and use a minor illusion spell that lasts the day to give him your semblance so now "tristan" is "dead" and accounted for. While you walk out with a fairly decent amount of intel a ghost in the night.

>>3367714
You don't have any illusion spells. Self-perpetuating magic without a source is pretty high-level in this setting.
You can try to do everything else though, although success wouldn't be guaranteed.

>>3367654
>Go into the room

Keep an eye on Nathan

>>3367654
>”Pastor, I’m just looking for the washroom.” (Sleigh of the Mind)
If this doesn't work, we'll probably have to fight to survive. Might as well try to not force a confrontation.

>>3367770
Ok. I still exchange clothes with nathan and carry out my plans. My hands are in gods will

>>3367654
>Go into the room
Now we kneo how his getting the people to believe him

Vote Called. Writing.

>Go into the room

You had to go into the room, there was nothing else you could do. To do anything else would have blown your cover, and blowing your cover right now would have been an exceedingly dangerous thing to do, with the nonhuman standing in front of you.

At the same time, you realize that your suspicions were confirmed. The Pastor was using mind-controlling magic, manipulating the thoughts of his followers. Judging by the conversation you had overheard, Marion or whoever Nathan was representing was the one who supplied either the knowledge or the materials necessary to The Pastor. Possibly both.

Nathan stepped aside, letting you into the room. It was large, perhaps it had been an underground living room or communal area. The right side of it looked like a study, containing a messy desk flanked by bookshelves containing an ominous number of old, musty literature. Pinned to the wall in front of the desk were poster sheets covered in arcane diagrams, magic circles, and meaningless symbols.

To the left was what looked like a laboratory, it would have looked completely separated from the world of magic, if not for the pulpit supporting a massive leather-bound tome standing in the midst of all the scientific equipment, or the half-dozen wriggling lumps of flesh sitting on the lab benches.

In the middle was what looked like a small parlour. two small sofas and a pair of armchairs surrounded a low coffee table. Sitting on the sofa facing the entrance to the room was The Pastor.

For the first time since you had received your mission, you were face-to-face with The Pastor in real life. He looked exactly like the photos in your briefing: A massive, heavyset man whose obese body seemed to fill up the couch he was sitting on. In contrast, his face was tiny, appearing babylike and cherubic framed by the rolls of fat which were his jowls. Upon seeing you, the tiny face bent into a gentle, almost beatific smile.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t think I recognize you. You must not be a member of my cult.” He said. Again came the false, soft gentleness of his words, crashing against the defences of your mind like waves of honey onto a breakwater.

You hear the door close behind you …

>”No Pastor, I’m Tristan. Remember me? You met me outside in the camp last week.” (Sleight of Mind)

>”I am Tristan of the Knights of the New Covenant and you are a traitor to mankind, who’s heretical research I have come to destroy.”

>Attack The Pastor (With What?)

>Attack Nathan (With What?)

>Other

For speaking options, write-ups are encouraged.

>>3368405
This is just gonna lead up to this
>>3367714

>>3368445
Not necessarily

>>3368405
>”No Pastor, I’m Tristan. Remember me? You met me outside in the camp last week.” (Sleight of Mind)
Get closer for stabing range

Eh, a vote's a vote
Writing

>>3370027
>”No Pastor, I’m Tristan. Remember me? You met me outside in the camp last week.” (Sleight of Mind)

The Pastor was right in front of you! You just needed to get a bit closer and he’d easibly within reach.

“No Pastor, I’m Tristan.” You say, lacing your words with magic, letting them soak into his psyche and disperse into the depths of his perception.

“Remember me?” You continue, stepping closer, until you were almost overshadowing The Pastor. “We met outside in the camp last night.”

“Ah, yes. Tristan, was it?” The Pastor’s angelic face was twisted into an expression of confusion.

“David, is the kid bothering you?” Nathan asked, gesturing at you. “I can throw him out, then we can finish our little talk.”

That was a bad sign. Nathan had definitely within earshot, but he was completely unaffected by your spell. It was almost as if he had not heard your words at all.

Your mind was racing, running through the monsters you knew of, trying to figure out what exactly Nathan was. A Ghoul? An Incubus? Anything other than ‘Human’ would be bad news.

But The Pastor’s next words saved you. “No worries, Nathan. This will only take a minute.” He turned back to face you, his expression in no way unkind. “Tristan, I thought I told you and the others not to disturb me while I was working … But I guess it can’t be helped today. So tell me! What is it that worries you?”

>”I’m looking for the washroom, but I can’t find it” Even you can tell that this excuse was stale

>”Something happened upstairs, we need you there right now.” Hopefully, you can separate him from Nathan. He wouldn’t take an outsider to deal with Cult business, would he?

>Stab him with your knife

>Turn around and rush Nathan with your knife

>I was worried that I was walking into a trap, but it is them who have fallen into my trap instead. Everything has gone to plan, and Nathan is directly in range of the greatest killing technique your mentor taught you. You can deal with whatever the Pastor does after you kill him.

>>3370106
Sorry, I messed up the formatting

>>3370106
>”Something happened upstairs, we need you there right now.” Hopefully, you can separate him from Nathan. He wouldn’t take an outsider to deal with Cult business, would he?

>>3370106
>>”Something happened upstairs, we need you there right now.” Hopefully, you can separate him from Nathan. He wouldn’t take an outsider to deal with Cult business, would he?

Vote Called, Writing

File: Door2.jpg (17 KB, 770x578)

17 KB JPG

>”Something happened upstairs, we need you there right now.” Hopefully, you can separate him from Nathan. He wouldn’t take an outsider to deal with Cult business, would he?

“Something happened upstairs, we need you there right now.” You say. You would prefer not to deal with both Nathan and The Pastor at once. Nathan was dangerous enough, he definitely wasn’t human, but The Pastor was a whole other problem, a Cult leader with unknown magical powers vastly beyond what he should have been able to command. But he was also easier for you to manipulate, it would be expedient to deal with him first.

“What happened?” The Pastor asks.

You make a calculated guess on what could go wrong, what would concern The Pastor. “Someone was caught trying to break into the Warehouse,” you lie. Surely there was something secret in the warehouse. You hadn’t seen anyone enter it all day, and besides, it was too big a space to not be used and at the same time not be suspicious.

Suddenly, The Pastor was giving you his full attention. “When did you catch the culprit?” he asked, his voice dead serious.

“Just now,” you cooly reply. “We caught them just as he was exiting.”

“Take me to the culprit …” The Pastor got up with surprising speed for his girth.

“Do you want me to come along?” Nathan asked.

“No!” The Pastor responded, almost too quickly. He caught himself before he said anything else, realizing his brusque treatment of his guest. “This is an internal matter … don’t worry, it won’t take long. Just wait here, Nathan. I promise I’ll be back for our talk.”

“Now,” The Pastor faced you, “Tristan, if you please …”

“We’re holding him in a spare tent.” You embellish your lie a little before turning around. Nathan quickly got out of your way. You open the door.

“After you, Pastor.” You gesture to The Pastor, bowing your head and showing the respect a Cult member would give their leader.

“Thank you Tristan … You’re a fine young fellow.” The Pastor, walking a tad quickly, exited the room. You followed closely behind.

To Be Continued?

So, that was my first time QMing a Quest! Sorry for any problems caused by my newfagginess. I'll continue of anyone wants more.
Please give feedback. How was the plot? The Characters? The setup and choices? Feel free to criticize, in fact, please do! Pls no bully

Also, I'll answer any questions until the next thread I guess. If anyone wants more, I'll make a new thread on Sunday.

>>3371051
Il be wanting more.
Polt and people seem fine at this point.
Just wosh youl update more oftin

>>3371051
You take too long.

>>3371051
It's good op. Continue.

Would you guys prefer if I started having sessions as well as updating sporadically throughout the day?

>>3372621
I'd be fine with that QM

>>3372621
Sure. Ill be lurkin

Will be holding a session around 8-12 PM Eastern Time.

New thread up