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File: Skyheist Quest.png (526 KB, 667x414)
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They call the sky endless for a reason. For thousands of miles in every direction, clouds form an evershifting horizon. The rays of the Glow Below are omnipresent - the only respite from its light can be found in interiors, manmade or otherwise. Fragmented islands of rock and crystal are held aloft by gargantuan chains, and here thousands of city-states staked their claim. The world was their island, and the island was the world. Only the chains disputed the idea that the Glow provided for their city alone.

For generations the Endless Sky was the domain of roughriders, explorers, hunters, and all sorts who could not find a place for themselves with solid ground beneath their feet. Land was precious, and the creatures that roved the sky were essential both for survival as well as resources. It was because of these pariahs that city-states first discovered one another. They, too, unveiled the prospects of trade by bringing home small trinkets from foreign lands. The chains were no longer mysteries, but guides that bound the expansive Shatterlands together.

Using the chains as guides, daring expeditions soon became regular contact. Merchant fleets from prosperous cities grew in cargo and prestige, only set back by vicious storms that could cripple an island’s economy. In response, ragtag pirates funded by rival states or their own ambition populated the High and Low Skies. Isolationism gave way in the face of profits, and with profits came conflict.

The safer the investment, the more cash can flow. It’s convenient, then, that there was something that could be used to keep those profits from plunging towards the Glow Below thanks to an errant wind. Tracks were laid along the links that connected islands together. An old trick to avoid the worst of a Glowstorm inspired a generation long project to establish interisland travel.

The Glow may always persist regardless of time, but the proliferation of newly designed chaintrains changed the face of the Shatterlands within a lifetime. Still today tracks are being laid, and with each completed track the world grew by one more chunk of land.

The time of grand merchant navies escorting those extracted treasures from limited landmasses is ending. It is safer to cling to the ground provided by those metal chains, after all, and yet the call of the Endless Sky still attracts those willing to live adrift in those clouds. However, the sky is a harsh place to call home. Even the most hermit-like of skydwellers understand that life cannot be wholly severed from the land which they came.

Besides. Pride is a staple of those who claim the skies for themselves, and memories of past betrayals and glories alike keep those trapped in a fading era. Perhaps the Glow will provide for them a little while longer in the face of obsolescence.

---

> [Cont.]
>>
>>3416832
The bristling, three mile long hide of a chaintrain is eclipsed by the chain protecting it. Crowding clouds make the Endless Sky feel very small indeed, making the visibility within the train be reduced to two chain links while casting sky in a shrouded twilight. Beacons of coming from Glow-infused crystals embedded in the train speared through the dim conditions. Around the train, it was as if a pocket of the Glow itself was traveling along the horizontal chain link’s surface.

Further down the track, a trio of heavily armed raiding craft drifted in between the thick cloud cover and an upward bend of a vertical chain link. They ran dark, light sources covered up or otherwise concealed.

In the open sky below the chain and at the edge of the cloud cover, a fisherman’s pride and joy lurked with its net strapped to its hull.

A clash of eras was fast approaching.

>> [3/??? Characters Available]
> [The Forsaken Captain]
> [The Redeemed Pirate]
> [The Forgotten Priest]
>>
>>3416834
>[The Redeemed Pirate]
>>
>>3416834
> [The Forsaken Captain]
>>
> [The Forsaken Captain]
>>
>priest
>>
>>3416834
>> [The Redeemed Pirate]
>>
>>3416834
> [The Forsaken Captain]
... Is this Sylvetican?
>>
>>3416834
>> [The Forsaken Captain]
>>
>>3416834
>> [The Forgotten Priest]
>>
>>3416832
> [The Forsaken Captain]
>>
>>3416834
> [The Forgotten Priest]
>>
>>3416849
>>3416850
>>3416861
>>3416866
>>3416878
> [The Forsaken Captain]

>>3416843
>>3416856
> [The Redeemed Pirate]

>>3416852
>>3416871
>>3416883
> [The Forgotten Priest]

Thank you for your attendance. Votes called, writing now.

Don't you worry, losing voters. You may see your characters rather soon indeed...
>>
> [The Forsaken Captain]

You are Phoebe Keeling, and the pocket of darkness that has cast itself over your planned ambush spot does nothing to ease your nerves. Once more, you extend your crystal telescope to peer down at the track. Once more, the coast is clear.

You stand at the the fore of your flagship, the Dancing Wisp. It sits in the cloud cover ahead of your modest raiding party, angled towards the track below you. Its four glossy sails fan out in an X from its hull, two on each side. The vibrant patterns of the blue and orange membranes glimmer faintly in the low light. Behind you the Wisp’s sister ship, the Swirling Spirit, hovered with its green and red sails.

The two are in perfect formation, an apt reflection of how the duo of Butterflies were designed to operate. A pair of elven trees shaped to be aerodynamic, nimble in maneuvers, and loaded with a fine complement of canons and launchers. It’s pair of masts make the Wisp look like an asterisk when seen from the front, with convenient crow’s nests at either end to give 360 visual coverage. The ships flutter through the air at high speed, and you’ve yet to find something else that can turn on a pebble like these sisters. They are your pride and joy. Best 3000 stones you’ve ever spent.

The third ship, however, well. It was something else entirely. The Glowfucker resembled more a series of bricks smashed together than anything that ought to be able to fly. Its red-brown stone hull does little to shake the impression, as well as the reddish glow its man-sized amethyst gems normally emits. It’s an ugly ship by any stretch of the imagination, but it’s useful for carrying a fuckload of guns.

And, one very, very big one.

There is, of course, another reason you’re continuously looking over your ships and peering through the telescope every few moments (nope, still an empty track). The Glowfucker may be an affront to the eyes and sense, but even that is more appealing than what’s keeping you at the fore end of the deck when there’s a pair of perfectly usable crow’s nests. In fact, it’s the reason the entire deck of the Dancing Wisp is wrapped in an awkward silence.

> [Cont.]
>>
>>3417054
Halfway up the crow’s nest in the center of the deck, a pair of your crew are busy making out like their life depended on it. You make the mistake of looking back at them

Charlotte Yu and the man you only know as Wallace are pressed into each other. You’d rather be anywhere than within earshot of the exceptionally noisy duo, but the furthest point is occupied by Charlotte’s husband, Ranveer Ray. One of your deckgunners catches your eye and gives you the blankest look you’ve ever witnessed.

Your grip tightens on one of your rapiers and divert your gaze. Wallace assured you that this was essential for the plan and for his little project. Without it, you wouldn’t be hovering in a dark sky with everything your career has given you, futilely staring at an empty track and willing it to light up. Both Ranveer and Charlotte gave the okay to this bizarre course of action. For fuck’s sake, why do they have to go on for so long though?

“Fuckin’ Ververs.” You mutter.

> [] Wait it out. They have to stop eventually, right?
> [] Alright, this is enough. Break the two of them up.
> [] Ranveer has the right idea. Go join him.
> [] Retreat to your navigation room, staring at an empty track is getting you nowhere
> [] Other
>>
>>3417057
>> [] Alright, this is enough. Break the two of them up.
This is serious work danget
>>
>>3417057
>[] Alright, this is enough. Break the two of them up.
>>
>>3417057
> [] Retreat to your navigation room, staring at an empty track is getting you nowhere
>>
>>3417057
>[] Alright, this is enough. Break the two of them up.
>>
>>3417057
> [] Alright, this is enough. Break the two of them up.
>>
>>3417066
>>3417076
>>3417089
>>3417094
> [] Alright, this is enough. Break the two of them up.

>>3417086
> [] Retreat to your navigation room, staring at an empty track is getting you nowhere

Called. Writing.

>> [2 New Characters Are Available]
>>
> [] Alright, this is enough. Break the two of them up.

Fuckin’, no. That’s enough.”

Hand gripped tightly around the handle of your rapier, you wheel around and march towards the mast. The chink of your boots draws the eyes of everyone on deck. The amorous duo are unaware of your approach.

Charlotte’s curly blonde hair forms a veil around her and Wallace’s faces.

At the bottom of the mast, you clear your throat.

“Ahem.”

The two continue their wet, sloppy kisses. It’s louder up close, you note with a click of your tongue.

Ahem.” You try again. Same result.

You rub a hand against your face. Normally your crew are good to take this sort of conduct out of sight. You may be pirates, but you’re not vulgar.

With a huff to yourself, you finally decide to put on your Captain’s Voice.

“Oi.” You growl. “You up-”

“Yeah, cap’t?” Charlotte immediately disengages from the man she had been sunk into for the past hour and looks to you. Wallace, for his part, careens backwards and struggles to tumble off of the mast.

“Uh,” You continue, off balance. “I think that’s more than enoug-”

“The fuck?” Wallace talks over you. “Char, we’re y’gonna just let me fall?”

“I’m speaking with the Captain.” Charlotte sneers at the redheaded man, voice dripping in disgust. Without missing a beat, she turns back to you and in a cheery tone says, “All’s done here, cap’t.”

“Wait,” Wallace again tries to talk. “I was almost done, I almost had enough!”

“Do you need me for anything, cap’t? Or am I free to go?”

You squint your eyes. “No. Just get down from there.”

Without acknowledging Wallace’s continues attempt to get a word in, Charlotte unties a rope pushes off the mast and drops down the 30 feet to the deck. The wood audibly groans under the force of the impact as she lands directly in front of you. Unsurprisingly, Charlotte’s knees barely bend when her feet touch down, and with a quick wave to you she bounds off towards the edge of the deck. A free rope already in hand, she leaps off.

You hear the familiar sound of her boots stomping on the side of your ship. Off to see Ranveer immediately, it seems.

> [Cont.]
>>
>>3417146
“Damn.” Wallace rubs the back of his neck. “From 100 to 0 in a snap. What a hell of a girl.”

You click your tongue. “I assume you got what you needed from my crewmate?”

“Hm?” Wallace lazily looks down at you. “Ah, yeah, yeah. Her Verve is fascinating, let me tell you.” He twirls the fingers on his left hand.

“I don’t think kissing a married woman in front of everyone was particularly necessary. Can’t you just,” You waggle your telescope at him. “Collect your Verve whatever the way you normally do?”

“Nah,” Wallace leans back against the ropes that saved him from plummeting down earlier. “Y’see, Verve’s a bit trickier than Glow. Y’don’t just lift up your little pommel and let the light collect innit. Sure, I could’a collected any ol’ pile of the stuff, but that girl? She’s got somethin’ special goin’ on.”

You cross your arms. “Yes. You already explained that she was necessary to your part of the plan, Wallace.”

He lifts a finger. “Nah, let me keep goin’, it’s important. Here, come up here, I gotta show you what I mean.”

A look over your shoulder doesn’t reveal any signs of an oncoming train.

> [] “Fine.” Climb up.
> [] “How about you get your ass down here instead.”
> [] “Or, you could do your bloody job. We don’t have time to waste.”
> [] “Do you not even care that she’s married, you creep?”
> [] Other

Time Until Optional PoV Swap: 2 Updates
>>
>>3417148
>> [X] “How about you get your ass down here instead.”
>>
>>3417148
> [] “Or, you could do your bloody job. We don’t have time to waste.”
>>
>>3417148
> [] “Or, you could do your bloody job. We don’t have time to waste.”
>>
>>3417148
> [] “Or, you could do your bloody job. We don’t have time to waste.”
kids these days I tell ya hwat
>>
>>3417150
>>3417151
>>3417172
Votes called. This will be the last update of the evening, and the next vote will remain open all night.
>>
>>3417148
>[] “Fine.” Climb up.
>>
“Or,” You take a step back. “You could do your bloody job. We don’t have time to waste.”

Wallace looks around at all the crew taking great care to not watch the two of you talk. “It seems to me that we’re in ‘hurry up and wait’ mode right abouts now, wouldn’t y’say cappy?”

You sign. “Get your ass down here.”


“Fine, fine.” Wallace relents and begins to climb down. “Oh, since I got you here anyway, let me tell’ya why her Verve is important.”

“Is this necessary.”

“It’s my job, innit?” He gives you a smirk over his shoulder as he slowly descend. “So you see, Her Verv-”

“To be perfectly frank,” You interrupt him. “I don’t care one bit about how your toys work. All I need from you is to make sure they’re in working order once the time comes, and you don’t fuck up your part of the assault. Am I clear?”

“Ah,” Wallace stops his descent to turn and give you a mock salute. “As clear as quartz, ma’dam. Y’see, the thing is, Charlotte’s Verve is real sticky, y’know? An-”

“I don’t need to hear you say ‘Charlotte’ and ‘sticky’ in the same sentence ever again, Wallace.” On the aft end of the Dancing Wisp’s top deck, the door to the navigation room opens. Otto Mathis, your second in command pokes his head out to look at you. His eyes flick to Wallace, and you recognize the familiar look of distaste.

“No, no, it’s important.” Wallace plunges on. “Y’see, Verve’s normally slippery, like a little grub that’s all mucoused up. It falls out of your fingers if y’not careful. Char’s, now, she’s a special one let me tell ya. Verve’s normally gonna slide off of ya and go out into the world when y’feel things, right?”

At least Wallace is climbing down again. Otto gives you an inquisitive look, to which you just shrug in response.

“Now, that feisty one’s feelin’s don’t wander off like they normally do. It sticks around on her, she’s gotta talent like I’ve never seen. Don’t think she’s ever even learned to see the excess people sploog out, not like she needs it.”

“For the love of Glow, Wallace-” At this, Otto begins to cross the deck towards you, calling out to him.

“Now, why her glow’s necessary is this. It’s sticky, and it likes to stick to i’sself too. So if I get a whole lot, like a whole whole lot, I can jam it all togetha, nice ‘n’ tight,”

You groan. Otto curves around the mast to be at your side, giving you a reassuring smile.

“And once it ignites like hows I sets it up, then, boom!” Wallace hops down the last foot or so off the mast. “All at once, the verve’s all over the place. Lot’s of energy, lot’s of fun. Highly effective, I think.” He turns towards you, a smug grin plastered on his face. “Oh, Knots. Everythin’ done?”

> [Cont.]
>>
>>3417257
You can almost hear Otto grinding his teeth. “Just need’s your inspection, Wally.”

“‘Ey.” He points at your lieutenant. “Y’don’t go disrespectin’ me, y’snot’s nosed kid, y’hear.”

“Okay.” You step in before Otto can fume aloud. “Wallace, get the fuck out of here and do your damn inspection or whatever the fuck. I’m sick of your grubshit.”

“Wewee.” He raises his hands in mock surrender. “I was just teachin’ the bucko to learn his manners.”

“How funny, hearin’ that from you.” Otto seethes.

“I think so too, yeah!” Wallace lets out a phlegm-filled guffaw. “Anyway’s, I gotta pack in Char’s sticky bits real quick, tally sally!”

As Wallace walks away, Otto leans in towards you and whispers, “Can I please shoot him already?”

“We need him.” You reply.

“Fuck that, he’s a lecher and a cunt.”

“Yes, and yet he’s the only reason we’re on this raid.” You rub an eye with the palm of your hand. “He’s got his weird bombs. You saw what they did to that merchantman before, if we want any chance of getting through that armor then we have to,” You all but spit on the floor. “Tolerate him.”

Otto runs a hand through his wavy brown hair. “Fine. You’re the Captain.” He smiles at you. “Still, hell of a performance. Talking down to you, literally and otherwise.”

“He’s nothing if not full of himself. I just hope he’s as good as we’re paying him for.”

Otto raises an eyebrow. “We’re paying him? With what?”

You roll your eyes.

“Anyway,” Otto is back to being serious. “There’s a few things that need a Captain’s touch.”

“And not a lieutenant's?”

“Perhaps it’s better if we work together on it. A bit much to handle alone, I’d say. Gotta go over the maps one more time, just in case.”

You look back over the fore of the Dancing Wisp. The man who was supposed to be in the upper crow’s nest, Alfred, jogs past you from the side of the ship before scurrying up the mast.

Down below, there still isn’t anything coming down the tracks. You reach lift your telescope to take another look, but Otto gently grabs your wrist to stop you.

“You know this isn’t good for your head, worrying all over.”

You pull your hand down, out of his grasp. Still, you keep it at your side. “There’s a lot riding on this, Otto.”

“Yeah.”

> [] Otto says he needs you to check something in the navigator’s room, despite having gone over the plans a dozen times. Perhaps something came to mind?
> [] Normally the married pair are good at keeping to themselves, but maybe you should check up on them.
> [] However much you loathe to admit it, Wallace’s Verve talk left you with some questions that you need answered, and watching him work might be what you need to do to make sure it gets done.
> [] Other.

1 Update Until Optional PoV Swap. If you would like your options, I can provide them.
>>
>>3417260
>[] Otto says he needs you to check something in the navigator’s room, despite having gone over the plans a dozen times. Perhaps something came to mind?
>>
>>3417260
https://twitter.com/ObserverQM If you don't have the thread open the whole time til I post, I'll say when I'm back and runnin' on this twitter thing.

Thoughts, feelings, concerns, feedback, all are appreciated!
>>
>>3417260
> [] Otto says he needs you to check something in the navigator’s room, despite having gone over the plans a dozen times. Perhaps something came to mind?

See ya next time
>>
>>3417260
> [X] Otto says he needs you to check something in the navigator’s room, despite having gone over the plans a dozen times. Perhaps something came to mind?

>>3417268
I'm just hoping we can stay professional enough to see this done right.
>>
> [] Otto says he needs you to check something in the navigator’s room, despite having gone over the plans a dozen times. Perhaps something came to mind?
>>
Ketty Jay Quest is a go!
>>
>>3417260
> [] Otto says he needs you to check something in the navigator’s room, despite having gone over the plans a dozen times. Perhaps something came to mind?
>>
>>3417265
>>3417274
>>3417281
>>3417351
>>3417517
> [] Otto

Called, let's rock. Writing now.
>>
“Alright.”

Before you and Otto can make your way across the deck, Alfred calls out above you, “Captain Keeling! I got eyes on somethin’!”

You whip around towards the fore of the Wisp, telescope already extended and held up to your eye.

“Negative,” You reply. “I cannot confirm. Track’s clear.”

“Nay, Captain. Bearing off our starboard side, at the edge of the clouds.”

You glance up at the crow’s nest to get a sense for its periscope’s direction, and angle your eyeglass to in kind. “Describe what you’re seeing, Alfred.” You’re not finding it right away, to your frustration.

“Looks to be a personal skiff,” Your spotter calls out. “Thin one too, with what looks like a three-pronged harpoon- Ah, there! Look for the retracting net, angle down 30 degrees.”

You spot it with the naked eye before you can pinpoint it with your telescope. A dark mesh ripples in the dim sky, and at its head, there! At this distance it looks like a needle with a triangular sail. Out from the shifting shadows, a blip of green from the skiff’s aft makes it impossible not to notice anymore. Beside you, Otto is watching it warily.

“Let me get this ancient thing focused, one moment Captain.” You hear the distinct sound of metal clanging on metal. “Aight, that should do her. I got eyes on deck. I’m seein’ two persons workin’ the ropes, one real short. Appears to be fishermen to me.”

“Any ordinance?” Otto asks.

“Nay. Seems unarmed, and there’s not enough to that dinghy to hide much inside. Seems its cargo is all what it can hold in its nets.” Alfred chuckles. “In these conditions, I’m not surprised they’re packing up and goin’ home. Not any chance any schools are gonna be drifting through this neck of the sky.”

Like early airships, most animals that traverse the Endless Sky use the heat and updrafts from the Glow Below to keep aloft. Rather than using excess energy like island-bound birds by flapping constantly, the sky critters instead float along the air currents unless absolutely necessary. The triangular design of sail was inspired by one of the more common species that populate the clouds. They have many names, but you’re always been partial to calling them pointies. Without a chain in sight, schools of pointies are a useful indicator of what level you’re at in the sky. They only populate the middle sky. Too high or low, and the airship’s ability to maneuver changes drastically depending on where you’re at.

The last thing you want is to be spiraling through the sky with little chance to regain control.

Otto nudges you with his elbow. “I think Alfred can take care of watching a single fishing ship.”

“Its heading?”

“Seems to be holdin’ still, ma’am. It’ll take a good while to haul that net up, so I doubt it’ll be able to move anytime soon.”
> [Character Unlocked]

You nod. “Good. Keep me posted. Lieutenant?”

“Aye.” Otto smiles as the two of you cross the deck.

---

> [Cont.]
>>
>>3418284
“Otto,” You speak deliberately. “Did you lose a fight with an inkwell?”

“What? No?”

“Then how do you explain this.” You hold up the ink-splattered parchment that once contained your detailed plan of attack.

“I was coming up with alternate strategies.”

“By scribbling all over it like a loony elf with the shakes?”

Otto rolls his eyes. “My handwriting isn’t that bad. Here, let me just read it to you.”

You pull the sheet away from his outstretched hand “Remind me to take you to the nearest orphanage reading room. I know toddlers that could write out their letters better than this. Are you sure it isn’t interpretive prophecy junk? You aren’t seein’ Glow in your dreams, are you?”

“No, my dreams are on the up and up thank you very much.”

You raise an eyebrow as you walk around the table in the center of the room. “That’s even more concerning. Didn’t know those high sky nutters got to you.” You playfully jab a finger into his chest. “I think you need some time in the box, let whatever’s overloading your system detox out.”

“Why is it,” Otto shoots you an incredulous look. “That you always go to locking or chaining me up? You know what, whatever,” He shakes his head. “Can you just be serious for a second?”

“I seriously think you’re a threat to society.” You reply with mock haughtiness. “A ruffian, a do-no-gooder who destroys works of art with your clumsy oaf hands.”

Otto grins back at you. “You wouldn’t know what art was if it shined directly at your face. Besides, Ms. Keelhauler, which one of us has a bounty in half the islands we stopped off at?”

“Just because I’m popular doesn’t mean I’m a deviant like you.”

“You shot the entire city council back on Arinus.”

You shrug. “We had a disagreement about my methods.”

“You bombed a brothel, Phoebe.”

“And all those girls found nice lives away from those scummy traffickers.” You retort. “If anything, they should’ve been paying me for cleaning out their trash. Hey, Mr. High Ground,” You plant your hands on the edge of the table and lean towards Otto. “I didn’t see you complaining when you set those charges.”

He lounges over his side. “Oh, don’t get me wrong. I’d do it again in a heartbeat. I just think it’s a bit unfair for me to be a blight on society if I’m acting under your orders.”

“I never said being a threat was a bad thing.” You smirk.

“Dangerous for all the right reasons, eh?”

“Of course! Now,” You reexamine the horrid mess of writing. “Walk me through what Glowbrained insults to my intelligence you scrawled over my hard work.”

“Yes, yes. Put it on the table,” Otto hops off and rounds the room to be at your side. You oblige him. “Here, so up here is my first plan,” Otto taps on a blob in the corner that’s more ink than parchment. “The gist of isn’t much different from yours, but with a small change.”

“I’m honored that you hold so much faith to my strategies, oh master warmonger.”

> [Cont.]
>>
>>3418290
Despite himself, Otto cracks a smile. “Shush, you. Rather than trying to hop on from the side of the railway, you and your little team of insurgents really ought to fly in.”

“You are aware that the flak on one of these trains is enough to threaten the Glowfucker, right?”

“That’s why you’d be going in with a pair of parasails. Land on top nice and quiet, and infiltrate from there.”

“That’s it?”

Otto nods. “Pretty much. Your objectives inside wouldn’t change, and if you’re lucky you’ll have a way off in case things go vertical. I can catch you in the Wisp if need be, like before, but I thought you’d like the choice.”

“Okay, what else you got?”

“Same as before, honestly, but instead the Wisp, the Spirit, and the Glowfucker barrage it from outside their flak range. You’ll come in from their far side and get in during the chaos.”

“They’ll be on high alert.” You point out.

“And distracted. Should give you enough time to acquire the target and escape while the rest run interference.”

“Lot’s that could go wrong.”

“Yeah. That’s where the rest of dozen or so plans come in. And you’re insistent on going into the middle of it.” He sighs.

You stare at him. “You know why I have to do this.”

He grimaces. “I’ll support you in any way I can, you know that. But, Phoebe, respectfully,” He places his hands on your shoulders. “This is incredibly stupid, and I highly advise you rethink this.”

Shrugging his hands off, you step away and peer down at the rough cloth stretched over your (stolen) drawing table.

A time passes where the two of you say nothing. A rogue wind buffets the Wisp, and a deep creak reverberates through the wooden hull. The sonorous thrum of your sails is followed by a similar song from the Swirling Spirit, only deeper in tone. A mono-note call warbles out over trio of airships. Down below, the arm of the sails pivots, and the sound shifts. In moments the single trill is transformed into a soothing fluctuation of notes. The rhythm is matched by the Spirit’s wings.

“The sisters are singing.” Otto says in a quiet voice. A haunting duet rejects the wind’s attempts to blow you off course. The creaks and groans of the Wisp add a complexity to the sound, sprinkled in low notes to complement the high and mid ranged ones produced from the butterfly sails. A shimmer of Glow blankets the deck outside. Golden specks drift in like snow.

For a brief moment, the sky is flooded with song.

The next, the wind dies down. As quickly as it came, the duet fades into the cloudy sky with a final, hopeful note. Once again, a dim twilight descends over your modest fleet.

> [Cont.]
>>
>>3418292
An unwanted memory comes unbidden. The sound of the elven-made sisters echoing each other’s determination, a wry grin from across open sky, a beckoning han-

Your fingers brush against the second rapier on your left hip, aware of the strap keeping it from being drawn from the sheath until the time ha-

You reach for Otto, and press your face into the crook of his neck. You squeeze him, tightly, and in return you receive a protective hug. A tension you didn’t notice you had makes your body shudder.

“The bastard’s down there.” You murmur, calming down as the spike of panic melts away.

“I know.” Otto’s voice cracks.

“I have to end this. Now, so we can be free.”

“One final job, right?”

“And it’s dangerous for all the right reasons.” You feel the hint of a smile on your lips. “There’s someone to save in there. They don’t know it, but that bastard’s the worst thing out here. I won’t let him get his filthy claws into anyone else.”

Otto simply nods. There isn’t time to waste. The clash is inevitable, now, and soon to come.

But for right now, you cherish being able to share this moment. Hopefully it’ll be the strength you need to persevere. You don’t need the Glow’s illumination to know that you’ll need it.

“About the plan…”

“Just a little bit longer. Please.”

Otto chuckles, and brushes a hand through your hair.

>> [Optional Point of View Change is Available]
> [Change Point of View Y/N]

>> [If Yes]
> [The Redeemed Pirate]
> [The Forgotten Priest]
> [The Embittered Fisherman]

>>[If No, Options Shall Be Provided After The Vote]
>>
>>3418301
>Y
>> [The Forgotten Priest]
>>
>>3418301
>Y
>> [The Forgotten Priest]
>>
>>3418301
>Y
>> [The Forgotten Priest]
>>
>>3418301
>N
>>
> N
>>
>>3418329
>>3418442
>>3418483
> Y
>>3418580
>>3418602
> N

Votes called for PoV Swap to the Forgotten Priest. Dinners and other home things will be under way soon.
>>
>>3418879
Unfortunately my energy levels are flagging hard. I have to push the next update to tomorrow, that you for your patience.
>>
I appear to have lost track of time, apologies. Working on an update sporadically, aiming to have one out by later tonight.

As recompense, please enjoy this list of every available character:

> [The Forsaken Captain]
> [The Redeemed Pirate]
> [The Forgotten Priest]
> [The Embittered Fisherman]
> [The Tamed Beserker]
> [The Covetous Inventor]
> [The Brazen Heretic]

Thank you.
>>
> [The Forgotten Priest]

You are Gregory Reef, last of the Glowbearers, and you are coming out of a daze. Or a slumber, you can’t tell. All you know is that you just experienced something you haven’t heard in decades, and a part of you was sure you would die without feeling it again.

The chaintrain quietly rumbles beneath you. Your eyes slowly adjust, and you find yourself in an expansive dining car cast in a warm glow from quartz embedded in the ceiling. The tables, bolted to the floor, are bare of their usual high class adornments, stored away due to the lack of passengers. You are seated at your impromptu - though, if you’ll be honest with yourself, your usual - home for the trip to the end of the Blackmetal Express: the bar. Outside the thick oval windows, the sky is cast in a dim twilight.

Behind the wooden counter, a bartender is focused on making another bizarre concoction. This is the game you and her have played over the past 100 chainlinks, and a line of half filled glasses to your left attests to the quantity of creativity she has.

“We’re getting a full restock once we get back anyway,” Mae had explained over the first glass she had given you this trip. “Boss said something about the booze not bein’ ‘high class’ enough for the patrons or some grubshit. I was told to sell it off at Garnet for as high of a price as I can, and dump the rest.” She lifted up the stone urn she was pouring from. “Seemed like a waste to be, so. Would you mind taking a sip of this? It’s a couple things I’ve always wanted to make…”

Of course, you agreed. It turned out Mae had a knack for making exceptional mixed drinks, or birthing abominations in liquid form. There was no inbetween. Said she learned everything from her great-grandmother when Mae was a child. Unfortunately, the lessons began and ended by the time the Snows could pass. It seems she had found a willing apprentice at last, but too late to do anything but pass along the barest brewing essentials.

That had called for a drink, something more traditional this time.

While you were the bartender’s grubling for all her errant thoughts of alcoholic combination (she is currently of ruddy complexion as well), the right half of the bar has been occupied by the only other passenger that seemed to have bought a ticket for this trip to the edge of the world. Neonsin styles himself like every other tinkerer with Glowpowered machinery. Multiple sets of goggles in some combination of hanging around his neck, on his eyes, and resting on his forehead.

“One fer lookin’ up close, one fer shade, an’ the last for seein’ normal.” He had explained with Mae asked him.

> [Cont.]
>>
>>3424257
You had difficulty getting a read on him. First off, he refused any offer of a free drink as well as anything offered as a complimentary meal. You will admit that the intricacies of his project (currently strewed across the tabletop as an assortment of gears, springs, and other metal doodads) are beyond you. When he would begin rambling aloud as he worked, all you and Mae could do in response is share a pained look and pour another drink.

What you could determine, however, was that his little project was some sort of firearm.

“Semi-automatic, with an extendable stock and a side-loaded eight-barreled cylinder.” He has an annoying habit of talking to the weapon rather than looking at you or Mae when talking about his project. “Adjustable foregrip, the works. These rounds, you see,” He had held up a thick steal shell. “Inside is a chrysoberyl infused with Glow, primed to either release its energy on contact,” Neonsin tapped a pair of shells that looked identical to you. “Expand out in a short-lived fiery storm for close range, or plain ol’ slugs. Gotta make each round myself, ‘cause I haven’t yet found a foundry that had the finesse to pull this off. They could help me out with the other thing I got tinkerin’, but I couldn’t test it back in the Hub. Said it would cause a ‘disturbance to the peace’ or whatever. Cowards, all of them, I say. Did they really think I’d let these overload nearby town? I swear, they didn’t listen to me at all about me having nothing to do with that building blowing up, I was on the other side of town workin’ on my own and everything…”

That was how conversations tended to go with Neonsin. It was almost impossible to get a word in between his constant stream of consciousness. That is, until you revealed your Glorybearer-issued handgun. And your coat full of all you could scavenge from fallen brothers and sisters over the Snowfalls.

“Where do you keep the ammo? All of these muzzle loaded?” Neonsin was peering down the barrel of one of your two sawn-off blunderbusses. “Gem located at the base of the barrel. Obsolete firing pin? Difficult to accumulate Glow in its position, and no apparent way to break the barrel to remove it. However, no trigger or trigger guard…”

“Woah,” Mae hiccuped, staring at the growing pile of firearms you were producing from various hidden holsters and pockets. Nine in total. Not nearly enough, but it was all you could carry out.

“No,” You patiently responded to Neonsin. “With Glow, I have no need for little bits of iron and copper weighing me down.”

“Bullshit.” This was the first time the man looked at you. His beady eyes shone with fervent curiosity and- Ah. You were getting nostalgic.

“I would not deceive you, my friend.” You weary joints popped as you pushed yourself down off the barstool. “The Glow provides, and it is all you need when villians make the mistake of threatening you.”

> [Cont.]
>>
>>3424258
Of course, you knew just how deadly those projectiles can be first hand. Does it matter that the heat you feel in your belly is reflected in your tone? Mae flinching back indicated something, however, you had something to explain. A blue-veined hand seized your handgun from the pile. You forged the metal barrel yourself, and the wooden handle still carried the marks of your whittling. It fits perfectly in your hand, quite literally made for you to wield when deemed absolutely necessary.

“You have an astute eye, Neonsin. The stone at the core of each firearm is indeed how this operates.” A part of you was aware of the slight slur to your speech, but that had never stopped you before. “If you have faith in the Glow, it will come to you in times of need.”

“Impossible.” Neonsin stood up next to you. “Glow is a wavelength of light capturable by crystals and gemstones. It cannot come and help you, it isn’t sentient.”

You felt the familiar sly smirk on your face. You always got a kick out of this part.

“Oh Glow Below,” You called out in your (long unused) sermon voice. “I beseech thee to illuminate the eyes of thy wayward child, and grant me your strength to cast aside those that prey on innocent hearts.”

You lifted the pistol up towards the ceiling. Mae looked on with the panicked eyes unique to a drunk realizing something was wrong a couple moments too late to do anything but stare. Neonsin raised an eyebrow while lifting his goggles from his eyes (another first).

“Now, provide for me, Glow, and allow me to be thy beacon!”

A familiar feeling electrified your body. The ambient Glow around you resonated with your flesh, and it was simply a matter of allowing it the flow through you. The effects of the plentitude of drinks was obliterated like a cloying shadow in the face of the Glow piercing the clouds. The quartz in the ceiling shimmered and brightened like a half dozen orbs of white fire. The chrysoberyls in Neonsin’s rounds vibrated in their shells despite being wholly shielded from your light.

You felt the location of every gem on the train, from the massive engines to the pair of mere shards in the third traincar from the front.

Of course, you do not need the gems to act as catalysts - instead, you were the conduit through which Glow flowed towards the crystals. The emerald you had carved out, polished, and chosen as the core of your pistol greedily absorbs the Glow racing up your arm. A vibrant green flares from the barrel. Ignoring the delay gasp of surprise from Mae, you perform one of the many techniques taught at the Underisle Monastery.

You compressed the Glow. The soft, viridescent beam deliquesced into a gurgling sphere of molten plasma.

The last thing you remember was staring into it, eyes getting lost as you gazed deeper towards the orb’s core. Just at the edge of your barrel, the Glow twisted in on itself all for you.

> [Cont.]
>>
>>3424260
You’re not sure why you collapsed. Perhaps you went too far, too quickly.

All you know is that, just a few moments ago, you had felt the most beautiful song. A Glowtune powerful enough to raise you from your accidental slumber. Somewhere nearby in the Endless Sky, the final notes fade downwards as a tribute to the Glow Below. Only the monastery’s Head Glowbearer knew the secret to making the light sing, and even then you had only experienced it four times in your many snowfalls.

You also know that you have a throbbing headache.

“He lives.” Neonsin perks up beside you. You are back on your stool, and you pull your head up from the crook of your arm with an audible groan.

“Hold me by my Glowin’ toe,” Mae exclaims. “We thought you were knocked out for good, oldtimer.”

> [] “What happened?”
> [] “Where’s the captain of this train? I need to tell him something.”
> [] “Wait, did you just leave me here? No doctor or nothin’?”
> [] Other (Writeins Are Appreciated)

>> [Secondary Writein]
> [Name Gregory Reef’s Glowbearer Handgun]
>>
>>3424262
>[] “What happened?”

> [Name Gregory Reef’s Glowbearer Handgun]
Wildfire
>>
>>3424270
>>
Vote shall be open overnight. A midwork update is possible, but it may end up having to be tomorrow evening.
>>
>>3424262
> [] “Where’s the captain of this train? I need to tell him something.”

> [Name Gregory Reef’s Glowbearer Handgun]
Glow Scorcher
>>
>>3424270
+1
>>
>>3424262
> [] “Where’s the captain of this train? I need to tell him something.”

> [Name Gregory Reef’s Glowbearer Handgun]
Lumen
>>
>>3424262
> [] “Where’s the captain of this train? I need to tell him something.”

> [Name Gregory Reef’s Glowbearer Handgun]
Wildfire
>>
>>3424270
>>3424274
>>3424629
>>3424631
>>3424690
>>3424814
>Synthesis
>Wildfire the Handgun.

Called, writing once I can.
>>
Looks like I'll be late in getting home tonight, and am liable to immediately crash. I'll have an update tomorrow for sure, I believe I'm getting off work early and everything.
>>
>>3425892
Is everything alright, QM?
>>
>>3432329
Unfortunately, my brain decided to hold a panic-inducing stranglehold on me for the past few days. Apologies for falling off the map, I've been staring at the contours of my bedroom walls for the past 12 hours and forgot what time was for awhile.

Turns out trying to quest almost immediately after a car accident was a poor choice for my focus. Who knew?

Once my head remembers that being alive is actually a good thing, I'll.. At this point, probably make a new thread. Thank you all for being patient with me, I'm having too much fun concocting everything to let it just fade away.

I'll tentatively say that the next update/thread will be Wednesday, but we'll see!
>>
>>3438736
>car accident
oh fuk
>>
Hope you feel better soon



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