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File: Oneshot Part 5 Image.png (3.62 MB, 1600x1000)
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You asked of your sentient moss companion to attempt and cover the unbloomed flower with its greenish fibbers. They did so, skidding off your neck and down the length of your arm on which you held the lily. The flower whimpered as your sentient-moss-on-neck wrapped its verdant body around it, patches of greenery concealing the alluring presence.

The petite beast stopped, its yellow eyes dimming. It shook its head, disorientated and shaken. Raising its gaze to notice you, it bent its back and pushed the rest of its body aback. You rose the axe above your head, waving it towards the frog-like-creature. It stood unmoving yet frenzied until you made an agonistic step towards it. It wheeled around, rushed, and soon disappeared from the bushes it came.

You lowered the axe with a sigh of relief. “Maybe its best to keep it covered until later,” you said.

Sentient-moss-on-neck whispered many words, most of them in approaval. No other carnivore or critter troubled you on your way out of the morass, and you soon left the Russet Swamp, although a bit away from the waggon and Carinda’s gaze. The flower was cryptic; it was as if neither you or it knew what needed to be done for it to blossom. You both had guesses, at least. You asked your mossy companion to unwrap, and then settled the flowering swamp plant on the grassy field below.

The moistened moss relocated back to its scarf-like form under your neck. You winced, the bright winter sun temporary blinding you. You sat a few meters away from the flower, watching as it basked in the sun.

It made a noise as the sentient-moss-on-neck left but remained silent even after you called for it. Time passed, and you had no other choice to wait for something—anything—to happen. It did. With a brilliant golden flash the lily unravelled, its petals and sepals as bright as a burning torch. A dew of liquid gold-like fluttered across its reddish-amber leaves, there but refusing to slid off and fall.

“I feel great! It feels so amazing, to be full of vigour, of energy, of life.” Its voice cracked like a flame. It danced, its petals and leafs fluttering in seeming uncontrollable yet somehow graceful manner. “It feels strange. It feels weird. It feels undeserving, but I have bloomed now irregardless!”

You scratched your cheek, “So you will -not- poison those who’ll eat you?”

“It was not poison … It was an unbloomed gift, a remedy to all ills and worse.”

You sat down, narrowing your eyes at the flower. “If Vera eats you -now-, will she be healed?”
“There is nothing—I feel—what flows through me cannot heal.”

You scratched your cheek. “You are sentient now, eating you will be painful, and that's ignoring every other uncanny detail.”

The voice boomed passionately. “I know—a deep feeling—that this is what I am and should do.”

Be it true, you felt no need to argue with it. “Does she need to eat your petals from you itself?”

The flower shook its heavy bud. “The parts of me will carry the potency for some time yet.”
>>
Petals, sepals, and leaves. If it worked as it said, and you wished to destroy the flower near-completely, there would be enough to heal Vera, to heal Carinda, and to even heal the deep wound you were left with after the fight with the bear. Or someone else? Were you to leave the flower here, it would be left to the first passer-by, or perhaps a female animal. If you would resettle it by the trail, it would be likely noticed by the first lucky traveller or trader. You could bring it to the swamp, but then it would get eaten as well …

> Remove the petals of the flower for Vera’s poisoning.
> Remove the petals of the flower for Vera’s poisoning, also the sepals for Carinda’s injuries.
> Remove the petals of the flower for Vera’s poisoning, the sepals for Carinda’s injuries, and the leafs for your own wound (eat it there), killing the fire lily in the process.

> Leave what remains of the lily in the plains you are currently in.
> Reroot what remains of the lily by the track leading by the swamp.
> Reroot what remains of the lily back to the Russet Swamp in some out-of-easy-reach location.
> [Write In]
>>
> Is this a LOTR fanfic?
> No.

> What is this?
> A oneshot quest about an apprentice and his female dwarf master.

> Who are we?
> A 17-year-old human apprentice named Julian in the small human hamlet of Crisscross.

> How often will you update?
> I want to update once a day if I am able to.

> Will there be mechanics and rolls?
> Not in this quest.

> Where are the images from?
> Heavily edited OP pic. Credit to the original owners/creators.

> Where can I find the other threads?
https://lws.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?searchall=shortstack

> If you prefer to read it as a story instead of a thread:
> Chapter 1:
https://pastebin.com/raw/TrhwrD4c
> Chapter 2:
https://pastebin.com/raw/PY7YH7VG
> Chapter 3:
https://pastebin.com/raw/ZT9J0N3J
> Chapter 4:
https://pastebin.com/raw/v2AF1Y22
> Chapter 5 (so far):
https://pastebin.com/raw/4fRxrgHR
>>
>>5246641
>Remove petals for Vera, sepals for Carinda, and reroot what remains in an out-of-easy-reach location in the swamp

Whatever the flower may be okay with, killing it feels wrong. I would not remove such miracles from the world to heal a hand a little faster.
>>
>>5246641
>> Remove the petals of the flower for Vera’s poisoning, also the sepals for Carinda’s injuries.
> Reroot what remains of the lily back to the Russet Swamp in some out-of-easy-reach location. UNLESS...
>Do we know any herbalist or horticulturist who might be able to help this rare and wonderous flower to continue being? If we do, enlist them to help keep this plant alive.
>>
>>5247139
> Do we know any herbalist or horticulturist who might be able to help this rare and wonderous flower to continue being? If we do, enlist them to help keep this plant alive.
> I am afraid you do not. There is a middle aged woman in the Crisscross, but she just likes to grow flowers and has lots of hanging flowers and flowerpots.
>>
>>5246641
> Remove the petals of the flower for Vera’s poisoning, the sepals for Carinda’s injuries, and the leafs for your own wound (eat it there), killing the fire lily in the process.
Who are we to argue with a talking flower?
>Reroot what remains of the lily back to the Russet Swamp
Not sure it would be able to grow anywhere else, but we don't need to replant it too far away since we need to save strength for work
>>
>>5246820
>>5247139
>>5247311

You raised your left hand, giving a passing look to the ruffed and begrimed bandages—replacing them upon your return to any city of worth would had been a good idea. The bear had mangled it undoubtedly, but unlike Carinda’s sprained injuries, you could still use and move it. You knew it would heal with time. You crouched before the amber floret, biting your lip. Gently, you pulled one of the sweltering petals it had, tearing it off. From beneath the stamen, a quiet note was immediately hushed by the wind.

“Does it hurt?” you asked, sideways looking at the shining petal in your palm.

“Those are all strange feelings for me … feelings of sentience. I ask you: do not worry. A part of me lives on in the petal you took, in parts of me you will take now, and the burning remedy inside will be like it too.”

Hardly at all your shoulders rose. It was a plant, nothing more; first, you brought it to life, and afterwards, you were goring it. You felt uneasy. Even gentler, you picked the petals and the sepals beneath, until the bloomed bud resembled a quenched candle, its leaves resembling the remains of its wax. You stood up.

In a weaker voice, the flower said, “You can and should take more, there’s still remedy in parts untouched.”

You put the petals—shimmering like golden coins—into your bag. “I think I’ll pass.” You unrooted the flower, raising it from the meadow soil. “Killing you feels wrong, you troublesome swamp flower; you think you’ll regrow?”

“It is all new to me,” it whispered, raising its tall leaves to cover its nakedness and drizzle you with gilded dew.

You licked the refreshing water sliding off your brows, snoring at its words. “Now that you’re sentient, have a go at experiencing your life.”

*** *** ***

You didn’t travel far, rerooting what remains of the lily back to the Russet Swamp in an out-of-easy-reach location. The fiery lily was disoriented by its sentience and its inflorescence, more than any other flora you—or Vermin—used the pollen on. It asked you again to ripe the remains of its life, but you could not do it; neither did you have a reason to. You thanked it, repeated your guidance, and left it there alone.

You returned to the waggon, Carinda waiting outside. Tetreus had left, the horseshoe had been fixed by your master at short notice, unsurprisingly so. You smiled, exposing the petals and sharing the story in brief with her.

“You are saying a little bit of the sun turned this poisonous plant into some kind of healing medicine?” Carinda narrowed her eyes, turning her glance from the petals to you and back. “I am not sure that’s right, Julian.”

“Master Carinda, I understand your suspicion, but the plant was honest. Until it bloomed, it went out of its way to warn me not to eat it, and only after did it beg otherwise. I took enough petals for your wounds as well."
>>
Carinda shook her head, pushing the petals in your hand away from her. She turned to release one of the ponies from the heavy leashes and its waggon collar, leaving only the reins. She pulled the mare down by its cheekpiece, leaning down on her crutch for a difficult attempt to climb on top. The crutch—not meant to be a stilt—quivered under her weight (all muscles, no fat!). You ran to her side, offering your palms and shoulder.

Carinda thanked you, accepting your prompt. Her heaviness shifted from the crutch, and onto your body, forcing you to spread, strain, and lower your legs inches from the travelled dirt. You pushed up, doing the best you could to assist her. She pulled the reins, and finally saddled the pony.

You stepped back to meet her gaze, “Master, maybe we should take care of your injuries first?”

“We don’t know what condition Veronica is, Julian. I can wait” —she let out a whistle and snapped, the reins, dragooning the pony to turn— “but if half is not enough to cure her, I’ll give her the rest.” You gave Carinda the empty pollen-free bag with the sepals and petals inside. “I will try and catch up with them … if not, I’ll meet them in the Quarry.” She smiled and winked, “I’ll take care of it; you can focus on your masterpiece.”

How could you, with your friend deadly sick? You grasped your wrist with the fingers of another, nodding. Carinda departed, leaving you with a semi-empty waggon and one very displeased stallion.

> How were you going to do it?
> Once the mince form is made, and the Ecline Amalgam is poured into the beard bead shape …

> Cut off the head of the beast with the axe, and make the access to the stomach once step easier. Place the form into the carcass using self-made thongs of wood and ropes and then wait patiently for Amalgam to solidify.
> Surround the form into a tight clutch with metal and rope. Attach a long rope on top of it, and then drag it slowly and carefully, so as not to spill, through the mouth, throat, and digestion system until you reach its stomach. Pull back the same way, just as carefully, to bring it back.
> Try your best to turn the massive carcass to lay on its back, with its stomach exposed. Cut a hole in the stomach and then lower the form with rope directly into its petrifying juices. Try not to fall inside of the hole.
> [Write In]
>>
>>5247900
> Surround the form into a tight clutch with metal and rope. Attach a long rope on top of it, and then drag it slowly and carefully, so as not to spill, through the mouth, throat, and digestion system until you reach its stomach. Pull back the same way, just as carefully, to bring it back.

Seems least likely to get us petrified.
>>
>>5247900
>> Surround the form into a tight clutch with metal and rope. Attach a long rope on top of it, and then drag it slowly and carefully, so as not to spill, through the mouth, throat, and digestion system until you reach its stomach. Pull back the same way, just as carefully, to bring it back.
Also seems to be relatively less physically taxing
>>
>>5248186
>>5248549

You returned to where the slain beast laid. Fortunately, you didn’t get assaulted by any other swampland vultures. You placed your bag upon the ground, unsheathing the bestowed butcher knife from within. There were flies and insects—larger than their kinfolk outside the swamp—buzzing and crawling below and above the corpse. Even if the meat had turned to rot, or if they had laid their eggs into the decay, you were unconcerned. You were not going to eat it, and the vermin bugs could feast all they wanted after you had completed your task. Finding a soft muscle beneath one of its bulky legs, you plunged and sliced off a huge piece of flesh, dropping it on the ground.

Barring sentient-moss-on-neck, you were on your own in the wildest and most dangerous region in the districts. With the appearance of the hideous monster in the mines of the Quarry, it was not saying much, but you were wary of things showing up to eat you nonetheless. Where the towering Black Horn tree before there was an empty burrow with hundreds of gashes left by its unrooted departure; the tree didn't return.

As the clay-maker showed and priorly mentioned, you practised forming the bead’s shape with the wet mud first, to make sure it would hold. The knife Carinda gifted you, just as sharp as your master’s axe, carved through the meat like it was paper. With no issue, you diced the meat of the beast into fine, sand-like mince, pushing the metal form into the -real- cast. You opened the lid of the jar, carefully—you freed your lungs and held your breath—emptying the Ecline Amalgam into the form of the beard circlet. It filled to the edge, with some still left in the container!
>>
Next, you surrounded the form into a tight clutch with metal and rope. You attached the longest piece of rope you had on top of it, tying it with the dwarven-type of knots (all invented by drunk dwarfs according to your master) Carinda taught you. You placed the small box—the trembling mercury liquid exposed—into the shattered skull, pushing it deeper into its throat and then, holding the rope, lowering it deeper and slower through its digestion system. You wrapped the rope multiple times around your wrists and hands, fearing lowering it too quickly and dropping the form, spilling the amalgam. Steady, easy, you released the rope until you could no longer push it. You sighed in relief, setting the rest of the rope down. Where else could it fall but the stomach?

You waited; hot iron you knew to be annoyingly fast so solidify, but you were working with beastly stomach juices and an ore that would not solidify (or melt) without aberrant conditions. The dwarven book had no mention of how long you had to wait, so you gave it time. The juice petrified everything else near instantly, it couldn’t be -that- long. Twenty minutes. You stood up, grabbing the rope and repeating the motion.

… Trying to repeat the motion. You knew the coffer would petrify alongside the Ecline Amalgam, but it was heavier now. You twisted-pulled the rope, but you failed to raise the cast. It was cumbersome and stuck.

Could it be, that the part of the rope inside of the stomach got petrified as well?

> Even if it got petrified, it still had the rope's shape. Make another, firmer attempt to pull out the form.
> Ask Sentient-moss-on-neck to help you pull the rope. Double the power, double the strength.
> Ask Sentient-moss-on-neck to crawl through the neck and pull the rope from deep inside.
> Cut open the stomach from beneath with Carinda’s axe to take out the box from within.
> [Write In]
>>
> I did not expect the Russet Swamp to be such a notorious location, I think we spend more time here than any other place.
>>
>>5249395
>Ask the moss to aid
MAXIMUM POWER
>>
>>5249404

You sighed. “Could you help me again?” you said to your mossy companion. You shuffled your hands to free space for the sentient-moss-on-neck to grab onto like a second pair of arms.

The boggy moss whispered, “Do you enjoy making and then having to mend your mistakes, human boy; it is easier to avoid the whole process, is it not? It is a simple request, let's assist. Simple, all his requests are so.”

“I didn’t think the rope would get stuck,” you said. The moss bore a feathery texture, tickling your skin as it snailed over your arm, surrounding and then clutching your elbow from one side and the rope from another.

“He can’t admit his mistakes, he can? No, he can’t,” the hundred tiny leaves spoke in a hushed tone between each other.

You rolled your eyes, grabbing and then pulling the rope with sudden force and the moss’s friendly assistance. Petrified, it was less of a rope now and more of a stone hook; it bulged for a bit only to pull you back and drag your feet into the quagmire. Again and again, you pulled the rope, but it seemed stuck and wouldn’t release the bead that easily.

“Gods damn it,” you cursed. It wasn’t heavy, just lodged in!

“We think you should simply cut off the neck. Or he could just wait for others to come and help; we are just a sentient patch of moss, we lack the strength, the muscles. -We- consider ourselves strong. Consider all you wish, but our body is a plant not muscle like his. We would suggest turning the carcass to see if that might help. Did you not hear us?”

> Ask the Sentient-moss-on-neck if it can slither through the neck and pull the rope from within.
> Cut off the thick scaly neck using Carinda’s axe—that is likely where the rope is getting stuck.
> Try and turn the beast’s body and then try pulling the rope again.
> Wait for Carinda (and maybe others) to return and help you with the issue.
> [Write In]
>>
>>5250531
> Cut off the thick scaly neck using Carinda’s axe—that is likely where the rope is getting stuck.
This is our masterwork, damnit! We'll do it ourselves (with help from our good friend and ally, sentient-moss).
>>
>>5250531
> Cut off the thick scaly neck using Carinda’s axe—that is likely where the rope is getting stuck
Don't want to risk getting petrification juice on everything, but this seems like the best option
>>5249401
The swamp level is always a chore to get through, it's up there with the desert level in time consuming
>>
>>5250607
>>5250640

No good. You dropped the rope, taking it out and holding onto the axe instead. Even with the moss’s help, it was not enough; for sure, you could wait for Carinda to return and assist you—with her strength, it was guaranteed to budge—but it was your masterwork, damn it, you were going to solve it in your own!

You stepped aside from the beast’s skull, to where its neck stood ripe for cutting. The one axe you gave sentience to had cut through the forehead and skull of the swamp’s behemoth; aside from the sentience, the axe was similar—if not the same—to the one you were gripping in your hand.

You began to cleave the neck, swinging the axe from all the way behind your back. Once the axe’s bevel splintered the armour-like scales and sunk into the flesh, you pushed it a few inches deeper. The beast wasn’t meant to be killed; even with Carinda’s axe, it was less like splitting wood and more like pickaxing a rock. A workout, as if you needed that now. You were free of a hangover, you couldn’t imagine doing this exhausted and lingeringly drunk. Over and over again, steadily, you swung the axe, with each strike separating the head of the beast from the rest of its body.

At last, you made your final axe strike, the head plunging like a towering tree. You jumped away, remains of the bile excreting on the separated neck, and the once squishy—but now rock-hard—mud underneath it. Your palm moved to your agitated heart as you looked worrisomely at the axe; to your relief, the metal was undamaged.

You tried pulling the rope again, and, although there was some resistance, you -did- pull the crumbling stone thread out from the stomach: the heavy stone cast landing into your hands. The mince smudged inside of it, the way you put it in; unpetrified. In the centre, surrounded by the meat, was a modest-scale bead made entirely out of Onestone metal. It was near-complete, shimmering and dazzling; the only thing it needed was some polish.

You fell on your rump, exhaling. It was done. You could only hope that Carinda would appreciate it.

*** *** ***

You came back to the waggon soon after, wishing to never step into that blood-hued marshland ever again. The beasts of the swamp were free to do with the carcass anything they wished, you couldn’t care less. Some grassy parts of the sentient-moss were congratulating your efforts, while the others were unimpressed by the bead … You didn’t had to wait long, about an hour after Carinda came back, Tetreus and healthy Vera with her.

Carinda looked at you. You nodded cheerily, and she returned a smile. She had -no- injuries.

The moment God’s Gallop stopped, Vera jumped off its back to land in front of you. Her cheeks were reddened, her face was beaming, and her olive eyes were as brilliant as virgin oil. Even her freckles were brighter.
>>
“Julian,” she held you into a hug, scrapping your face with her dry-hay hair. “Thank you-thank you-thank you-thank-you,” she muttered into your ear. She broke the hug, stepping back and inhaling—she gestured both of her arms to her chest as she did so. She smirked, “Phew. I think that does it.” She scratched her nose, “My gratitude!”

“Your welc-”

“You are not going to ask me for money, are you?” she crisscrossed her chest and eyed you suspiciously.

“No, I know you are always broke,” you said, dodging her dagger-of-a-stare. “I am happy that the flower worked.”

She pointed her finger, “You are -kind of- at fault for not telling me about it female-enticing-charms, Lardhead.”

“I did not know,” you looked towards Carinda, “I thought it was alluring the dwarfs.”

Tetreus cleared his throat but bid his silence.

Your childhood friend looked at him, and then at you. She clapped her hands, “That’s right, do you realise what you have found? All-healing medicine, Julian! This can be big.” She lunged her head like a spear, speaking as quietly as she could, “Tetreus said he’ll bring me to the capital and introduce me to the court knights to ‘maybe’ make me a squire … if you tell him where to find more of this flower. There should be more, right? Please tell me there is?”

> Tell Tetreus about the remains of the sentient-lily you hid nearby.
> Tell Tetreus about the poisonous flowers growing in the basins around the Black Horn marsh and how to make them bloom.
> Tell Tetreus that it is a pain to acquire (it is). Go to the sentient-lily and cut off its leaves to bring it to him.
> Explain to Tetreus and Vera the dangers of the plant, and that they should not be taken outside—if they’ll even grow, which is unlikely—especially into a location with a big gathering of women.
> [Write In]
>>
>>5252108
> Explain to Tetreus and Vera the dangers of the plant, and that they should not be taken outside—if they’ll even grow, which is unlikely—especially into a location with a big gathering of women.
> Tell Tetreus about the poisonous flowers growing in the basins around the Black Horn marsh and how to make them bloom.
"Best to leave them here, and to come to this place when a flower is needed, so someone can extract them. If they were to spread... The results could be pretty unpredictable, and maybe pretty bad."

Vera is best girl
>>
>>5252108
>> Explain to Tetreus and Vera the dangers of the plant, and that they should not be taken outside—if they’ll even grow, which is unlikely—especially into a location with a big gathering of women
Wonder how common magical healing is. Hopefully common enough that they don't dredge the entire swamp dry to harvest these lilies
>>
>>5250607
>>5250640

“There are more,” you imparted. You turned to Tetreus—could he not speak for himself? “It is best to leave them here, and to come to this place when a flower—and no more than one—is needed, so someone can extract and bloom it.” You wished to cross eyes with the knight yet his helmet concealed them. You pulled in and then slowly released your breath. “Unbloomed, it’s dangerous to women—you know what happened to Vera, even female beasts are attracted by it, so be very careful. If they were to spread... The results could be pretty unpredictable, and pretty bad, with no maybes. That is if they can grow outside of the swamp.”

The man-at-arms lowered the armoured hand holding the reins, “I only need one, Jiraen.” His voice rumbled as he rose his head to stare into the bleeding-red treetops. The sun could not penetrate the crust of mud still present on his armour, leaving it glitter-less. His hand clenched and unclenched the leathery belt. “Are you going to tell me more … ?”

Carinda furrowed her brows, loudly slapping the edge of the bench, “If you want him to, call him by his -name-.”

Tetreus harrumphed. “It is not your place to hide this from me, and thus the -King-, Jilyan,” his tone was unsettling.

“I am just trying to avoid tragedy,” you raised your arms. “There is not much more to add,” you glanced at your friend, “They grow in the basins around where the Black Horn trees grow, the same one you found Vera in, the same kind master Carinda and I fell into. From what I saw, there is only one such flower in each of the deep swamp hollows, King’s Representative Tetreus. I can’t say how many there are, or for how long they’ll be there for. However, you should know they are very hard to climb out of. All you have to do to get them blooming is to bring them out of the swamp and into the sun; leave them exposed to it for a while; an hour?”

The man stood reserved. His head fell to look at his boots, then the rest of his armour and, lastly, at his stallion. “All truths.” God’s Gallop loyally sat down to allow the man to unsaddle. “Maybe they won’t be here tomorrow,” he raised his chest and pushed his arms back, attempting to free himself from the concealments of the clayish mud. “Vyroneca,” he came closer, staring down at the excited girl. “I will go into the swamp to retreat another of those flowers,” he spoke in a calm voice, “what I need from you is to help assist me with removing my armour. I will need to be able to climb those muddy slopes.”

“King’s Representative,” she smiled, “of course, I already know all the know-hows!”

“After, I want you to leave with the dwarf back to your town.”

Vera gasped, her mouth hanging open, “W-what?”
>>
He placed his clutched gauntlet just below her chin, “Obviously, you can’t see those flowers. I made a promise to you, are you going to say you are afraid that I won’t keep it?” He watched Vera shake her head. “I will return with the petals to your peasant-town.” He removed his hand off her, placing it on the pommel of his sword. He looked at you, “What about your masterpiece, Jiraen?”

You smirked, “I’ve made it.” You slapped the closed compartment of your bag, “It’s in here.”

“And I missed all the details and the processes of you making it,” Tetreus sneered, turning away, “You'll show it to me when I return to the village.”

*** *** ***

Your journey back to Crisscross was uneventful but fun. Without Tetreus to accompany your waggon, there was no one to oversee what you wished to talk about. Verona shared her hopes, and Carinda shared more of her small dwarf secrets. Upon your arrival, you went into the blacksmithy to pick up the polishing equipment and then straight into your room to add the burnishing-brightening touches.

Inside, the made metal had a peculiar, but faint orange glow, reminiscent of other ores that came from the monstrous remains of the beast from the Quarry. Would this shade ruin the “Language of the Gift?” You pondered.

Vera went to see her mother, very likely to discuss Tetreus’s promise. He would return to Crisscross with the petals and sepals (the flower would cause unimaginable chaos in the village)—he was yet to judge your masterpiece—so there was no way he was going to trick your childhood friend. To become a squire was unimaginable to all but a small number of contemptuous nobles, if Tetreus himself would offer Vera such a chance, her mother would forget all about weddings and grooms and inheriting the tailor shop; they would all pale in comparison to the future positions.

Carinda waited patiently for the reveal of your masterpiece. She began to prepare her waggon, sort her possessions and pack her items of value. It seemed that the part of the contract made between her and His Majesty was that you (?) would inherit the blacksmith and the all things she made within. Swords, knives, axes, horseshoes, nails, locks, instruments, furniture: near everything would be yours, to be slowly replaced by your crafts of much lower quality.

There, it was complete, you had it in your hands: the Onestone Beard Bead …

> Wait until Tetreus arrives to show it to him first, so he won’t interrupt you showing it to Carinda later.
> Show and then gift it to Carinda right in the shop—she is currently sorting the shop floor.
> Ask Carinda to accompany you outside Crisscross to reveal your gift, your masterpiece, to her there.
> Ask Carinda the meaning of the runes on the knife she had gifted you.
> Ask Sentient-moss-on-neck if he would like to accompany and assist Vera instead of staying here with you.
> [Write In]
>>
>>5253460
>Take Carinda for stroll outside of town
>ask about the blade's runes along the way
>reveal the gift where the lighting is nicest
>>
>>5253554
Seconding this sequence, it sounds a nice way to do things.
>>
>>5253554
>>5254643

You stepped down the stairs, entering the shop floor to meet and greet Carinda. "Master Carinda,” you said, squeezing the bag’s leather folds between your underarm.

There were half a dozen large bags arranged around the shop floor; you hadn't realised she had brought so many. In each were personal items of hers’ ranging from hairbrushes to clothes to books—the blue book of crafting recipes included—and to the small array of smithing items she carried with her on her day of arrival. Was she -that- eager to depart Crisscross; to leave you? Your fingers tapped the wooden handrail, knocking the post at the end of the stairwell before sliding off it.

Carinda tightened the belts on her bag, pushing it away to marry the others. “Julian,” she raised her head, smiling from cheek to cheek at you. “Finally. Do you even plan on sharing what your masterpiece is with me?”

“O-of course I do, master.” You blundered, switching your melancholic gaze from the bags to her.

“I see.” She raised her arms, her bones cracking with the motion.

You clutched your bag, “Master, do you want to go for a walk?”

“Always, Julian,” her voice boomed. She was in front of the door before you, nudging it with her shoulder. For sure, packing is a boring job.

You walked outside, passing the dry cobble road and the mudstone trails of the village, the wind-blown river, the sun-bleached rows of wheat and rye, and lastly the sparse pastel hillsides of the village’s outsides. The sun hung unrivalled in the wintry sky, its rays caressing your skin and illuminating Carinda’s bronzish body. You came to a stop on top of one of the hills, your lungs inhaling the cold air. You turned to Carinda; she stopped too.

Her eyes were on her left hand—no longer injured. She turned it slowly, smiling. Your heart skipped a beat.

“I will miss this view,” she said, interrupting your thoughts. “The lands of the dwarfs are beautiful, but not like this.”

Your hand sank to the bottom of your bag, folding the bead. You stopped. “Master, I noticed runes on the butcher knife you gave me.” Fresh snow cracked beneath your feet as you turned around. “Do they … mean anything?”

Carinda’s eyes widened momentarily. She looked away, placing both of her hands on her dwarven hips, “That did not take you long to notice, and I thought I made them nebulose.” She put a braid behind her neck, smiling, “You -are- my apprentice.”

“Is it some kind of dwarven words of … protection-good luck?”

“It’s not. We have them, but they are a bit different,” she said. “The runes, you’ll understand what they mean.”
>>
“Master, those are dwarven runes. I can’t read them," you said slowly.

“I know you can,” she looked coy, “that book of blueprints, Julian, it does not have a lot of pictures.”

“You knew-”

“I don’t know -what- you were making, it only—mostly—has the materials. However, -yes-, you were not that secretive,” she said. “Julian … I am not angry at you, I am very happy you decided to make your masterpiece -epic-.”

> Silently take out the bead, approach Carinda, and gift it to her. Let the “Language of the Gift” speak itself.
> “I want to thank you for those last seven years, master Carinda. I respect you, and I will miss you.” Gift the bead.
> "I like you, master Carinda. I want to have this, it is my masterpiece but also I gift a made for you." Gift the bead.
> “I like you, not only as a master but also as a woman, Carinda. Please accept my masterpiece, but also my gift.” Gift the bead.
> Plea to Carinda to translate the runes before she leaves, who knows when, if ever, Ontour will come and visit you again.
> [Write In]
>>
>>5254971
>"Master Carinda, thank you so much for the last seven years. I hope we meet again but, if not..."
>Gift the bead
>>
>>5254971
>> Plea to Carinda to translate the runes before she leaves, who knows when, if ever, Ontour will come and visit you again
Or we might end up an old man filled with regrets
>>
>>5255217
ONe thing our adventures and time with Carinda has surely taught us is that it is more satisfying, fulfilling, and worthy of her to figure stuff out ourselves than to beg and plead.
>>
>>5255041
>"Master Carinda, thank you so much for the last seven years and all the times we've spent. Truly, you are an incredible woman and craftswoman. I really hope we meet again but, if not..."
>Gift the bead
>>
>>5255286
Was this meant to be a vote? May have replied to the wrong post.
>>
>>5255041
>>5255217
>>5255239
>>5255286

“And by ‘epic’ you mean dwarven,” you shared with Carinda a smile, which she returned. After a moment of silence, you approached her; your hand was clutching and unclutching the bead. “Master Carinda, thank you so much for the last seven years and all the times we spent,” you said; as you pushed your voice not to break, it instead turned hoarse.

Carinda cocked her brow, “Seven years, heh? It is now hard to remember how you were when we just met, Julian.”

Your ears turned red. The sun was giving her an angelic visage, it was as if the sunshine was a candle, held by her body—a bronze candlestick. The tips of her ashen hair burned like cinders; her expression was welcoming and kind.

“Truly, you are an incredible person, and a craftswoman” —at last, you withdrew your gift from the bag’s leathery concealment, raising it to her— “I really hope we meet again but, if not … I want you to have this."

Her eyes narrowed as she responded with silence. In her deep-set pallid irises, the bead was reflected in full.

‘The giftee owns a piece of the gifter, deservingly and willingly given.’ Onestone meant in the “Language of the Gift.”

Her hands loomed towards the bead, stopping. Instead, she bowed her head, looking over from left and right with her head. “Masterfully crafted, Julian,” she said with a gentle voice. She bit her lip, “Fundamentally, Onestone is not supposed to have such amber glimmer, but I think it gives it even more of a momentousness. Julian, why did you make it a bead?”

You awkwardly slid your boot against the feathery snow. You thought you would manage to keep eye contact with your master, but, in that situation, you found it difficult; she was withholding from accepting the gift. “I remember when you arrived you had a beard-like hairstyle, so I thought you would wear it again on your return, so … I wanted to thank you.”

“You did not have to thank me, Julian,” she said. She lowered her shoulders and head, peering into your eyes. “I know how hard you worked on it, but if I’ll take it now, the knight will not leave you alone. You’ll have to show it to him, at least; we don’t want you to get in trouble.” She was pouting, both her cheeks the size of marbles.
>>
“If you put it on, he’ll still get to meet you before you leave,” you suggested. Your eye contact stayed unbroken.

“Do you think you can put it on for me? I assume you know how to?"

You nodded, hovering the bead in your left hand and your right hand to her hair. Suddenly, she grabbed both of your wrists, pushing them away—painlessly but uncomfortably. Carinda? It was her hiding her eyes now.

“I just remembered: only in married families does a male dwarf braid a bead of his spouse … ” Your master—her cheeks visibly reddened over her bronzish skin—quieted mid-sentence. She said no more. She was embarrassed, as it was her hasty suggestion. She did not let go of your hands, but she did not act elseway either. You and she stood there …

> Stay in silence, and wait for Carinda to respond or finally let go of you.
> “You dwarfs have -a lot- of traditions." Let Carinda braid it herself.
> “I am not a dwarf, so it should not count, master Carinda. Please let me do it."
> Her hold is not that strong. Break it, and silently begin to braid her female beard.
> “I like you. I know it's against your dwarven traditions but please let me do it for you.”
> [Write In]
>>
>>5256042
> “I like you. I know it's against your dwarven traditions but please let me do it for you.”
But leave it at 'like'.
>>
>>5256042
>> “I like you. I know it's against your dwarven traditions but please let me do it for you.”
>>
>>5256061
>But leave it at 'like'.
>I A-D-O-R-E YOU
>>
>>5256061
>>5256549

“I like you,” you said to break the silence. “I know it’s against your dwarven traditions but please, let me do it for you.”

Ponderously, Carinda let go of your wrists, her arms falling by her side. She sighed, nodding and then staring off into the distance, as if unwilling to look in your eyes. “You are right, it is stupid to worry about it. Julian ... I appreciate the help.”

You let your fingers caress through the locks of her hair. It shimmered like a precious metal but was soft and smooth to the touch of your hands. Yes … you fondled her hair for longer than it was necessary. As Carinda said, it was uncustomary for others to touch a dwarf’s hair; you imagined it was your -only and last- occasion. To that, she was without words or sounds: trusting of you, as she always was.

Reproaching yourself, you raised the Onestone bead and slid a lock of her hair inside, braiding it through the large opening and the smaller more intricate hollows. Your mother braided her hair, and Vera tried and failed—several times—to do the same, but you were never taught how to do it. You nervously exhaled, your fingertips twitching inside of her locks: you did not want to -ruin- your master’s hair. Her hand touched yours, and just as silently, she began to unbraid her braids. To weave her female beard would require that first … You watched the ways her tails were entwined, soon trying to repeat knots she had.

You struggled; it was obvious to you, and—you assumed—to your master. Carinda had never weaved the beard in your presence, or a few days since after her arrival, so you had nothing to compare yourself to.

You took a step back, freeing her hair from your hold. Your master now possessed dwarven pride: a beard. Of course, it was not real, “fake”, coiled and crisscrossed from her longish hair. Even though it happened seven years ago, even though you had no interest in smithing, and no feelings for her back then, you remember the sadness with which she surrendered her beard to fit in. It was absurd—unappealing—to the people of the Crisscross, although no one remembered their gossips and glares. It had a dwarven charm, and it made your master happy.

She smiled as she stroked her badly braided beard. “How does it look?” she asked, her gaze evading yours.

“It looks good,” you said with a similar glance.

“Of course you would say that, it is -your- masterpiece,” she chuckled, turning away. “I am going to check it in the mirror.”
>>
She set off towards Crisscross; she would had to travel to the smithy to find a good mirror. She stopped mid-step, looking down and raising the bead just-a-tad closer. “I did not imagine myself the type of master to keep my apprentice’s masterpiece to myself,” she said, just as loudly as ever. She turned her head, suddenly fixing her gaze on you. “You asked if we’ll see each other again … It is unlikely they’ll let me back into the human lands, Julian. My clan, and I, will be busy with the lands your King gave us, and he’ll make sure you are busy as well, at least for the next seven years, if all is fair in this kingdom.” She let a pause hang.

“No human had entered the dwarf lands for the last dozen years … not yet.” She hummed and smiled. She touched the bead. “I guess it is up to you, Julian, if you want to see me again or not. I would like to. You’ll find a way if you -really- want to.”

Without awaiting your answer—did you even have one?—she left, leaving the biting breeze of winter to keep you company.

> This concludes the main story, but if there are any questions or events you think were left unanswered or unfinished, we can deal with them now.
> It is open-ended, but since this quest was not popular, I'll unlikely to do a sequel. Unlikely does not mean it's it impossible to happen, but you know ...
> I'll have a few questions to improve my further questions, is that okay?
>>
>>5257122
>It is open-ended
Suppose it's the only real way to keep everyone happy
>not popular
Eh. There were a fair number of posters throughout, but what really matters is you finished it. Seen a lot of writers give up because of that so thanks for sticking with it!
Suppose a short epilogue for the main cast/locations would be neat. Mostly want to know what or if
Tetreus was looking to get out of us. Either way he gets a panacea so if he's still butthurt we can point that out
>>
>>5257122
Thanks for running, QM! As >>5257181 said, an epilogue elaborating upon Tetreus and Vera would be cool, but if you're not up to it, I get it. This has been one of my favourite quests on the board for many months now, and I'm grateful to you for running it. I'm a little perplexed as to WHY it wasn't more popular. You did good work! Your writing also improved quite a bit during that time.
>>
>>5257181
>>5257208

Tetreus, upon his arrival, once you made it clear to him what your masterpiece was, was left unimpressed. Ignorant of Onestone’s value and absent during the times you struggled most to complete it, he saw the last few days as a waste of time. ‘I would’ve had been more impressed if you just made a metal bracelet or knife.’ He said, uncharmed by Carinda’s unauthentic facial hair. Yet, even though he said that he regarded your apprenticeship as complete. ‘If your dwarf master is satisfied with it, I will be too.’ He brought petals of another bloomed lily, and even though you “failed” in his eyes, the medical flower softened his knightly principles.

He and Vera departed on the very next day; it took a month for two letters to arrive at your village: one for her mother, one for you. Tetreus made his report short, ‘He made a satisfying masterpiece and displayed adequate familiarity and knowledge of the dwarven smithing.’

Vera shared in secret with you that the flower was meant for Tetreus’ ailing squire, one he treasured dearly, for she was his niece. Keeping his promise, Tetreus introduced Vera to the knightly court and queried whenever any man-at-arms there was lacking a squire. Not a single one would disgrace themselves by stewarding a commoner—besides one.

‘He is an old man, past the age of service,’ Vera wrote. ‘No nobles wish to let their kids serve under him, and none of the kids insists. He is thrice divorced, with seven children and two grandchildren. Julian-hey, I am going to be a -real- squire!”
>>
> Seen a lot of writers give up because of that so thanks for sticking with it!
I hate giving up (dattebayo!) and I already dropped a quest. Especially since this was a oneshot, I wanted to finish it.

> This has been one of my favourite quests on the board for many months now, and I'm grateful to you for running it.
Thanks a lot for the kind word. Your welcome, I hope you enjoyed it.

> I'm a little perplexed as to WHY it wasn't more popular.
I wish I knew. Hopefully, my next quest will more popular.

> Your writing also improved quite a bit during that time.
I did not notice (I’ll need to reread the quest if I’ll have the time), but I am happy that is the case.

As for my questions:

> Were you fine with the prose, the grammar, the second person narration, the past perfect tense?
> As she was the focus, was Carinda an interesting character for you?
> What was your favourite and least favourite part of the quest?
> Do you prefer the main character to gain personality as the quest moves on, or starting with a strong personality already, limiting the prompt suggestion as for it to be in-character.
> What can I do to improve in the future quests I would like to run?
> Any other comments?
>>
>>5258254
> Were you fine with the prose, the grammar, the second person narration, the past perfect tense?

For the most part, yeah! I really like the way you describe scenery and colour. I will say that I was a little thrown by the way you describe characters moving various body parts -- maybe I'm just not picturing it right, but it sometimes seemed very flourishing and jerky, like exaggerated puppet movements, and they didn't always (to me) make sense for their mood and dialogue.

> As she was the focus, was Carinda an interesting character for you?

She was fine, if not exactly waifu material to me. I liked her as a kindly mentor figure. Vera was best girl, Tetreus was an entertaining jackass.

> What was your favourite and least favourite part of the quest?
Favourite: Vera, making crafting decisions, seeing our end result
Least: Didn't really dislike any of it, but I didn't get the Feels for Carinda, which I suppose undermines the premise

> Do you prefer the main character to gain personality as the quest moves on, or starting with a strong personality already, limiting the prompt suggestion as for it to be in-character.
Gaining personality as we go on is better.

> What can I do to improve in the future quests I would like to run?
There were a few instances where I wasn't really clear on the meaningful difference between the choices presented, such as for dialogue or when planning how to use the beast's stomach acid. Sometimes it seemed like all the options could feasibly be done at once, or that whatever option we picked would have the same end result (or were all such unknowns that it was a crapshoot). That may just me being a brainlet, but if not, that's something I personally think could stand some recalibration for your next quest.

> Any other comments?
This was a really good cozy fantasy quest, with just enough adventure to keep the stakes from being too low and things getting stale, and I'm really glad you ran it to the end. Thank you, QM!
>>
I wasn't here for this quest and I'm not gonna read any of it either but good job on actually finishing it instead of being a fag.
>>
>>5258254
> Were you fine with the prose, the grammar, the second person narration, the past perfect tense?
Some words and tense/grammar was a little strange but it was all understandable so not too big a problem
> As she was the focus, was Carinda an interesting character for you?
Honestly felt she didn't get enough screen time, though since it was mostly a teacher/student relationship it makes sense. That and you are beholden to the decisions of others
> Do you prefer the main character to gain personality as the quest moves on, or starting with a strong personality already
I prefer characters to have defined traits and morals that we can play towards, it really helps to direct our decisions/actions e.g. we can guess what Tetreus or Vera would do or say based on what we learned about him. If you want to mix it up a bit may be introduce another character to play as for a while
> What can I do to improve in the future quests I would like to run?
Some choices seemed illusionary, (like they were just different ways of saying yes ala Fallout 4) or the consequences were not clear enough (cutting the stomach of beast vs the neck, killing the first sentient tree vs avoiding it). For the first one it was mostly for small choices and exposition so it's not too bad a thing. The second one is probably just preference, since there are some things the character has no way of knowing. Maybe have a DC system with modifiers, with different choices relying on different stats. It's a boatload of extra work though so don't blame QMs for not doing it
>>
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>>5258311
>>5258500
>>5258777

> I will say that I was a little thrown by the way you describe characters moving various body parts -- maybe I'm just not picturing it right, but it sometimes seemed very flourishing and jerky, like exaggerated puppet movements, and they didn't always (to me) make sense for their mood and dialogue.
I struggled with character expressions; I even bought a book called “The Emotion Thesaurus” but, as you said, I understand I went too far in the other direction and overused their body language and expressions. That’s how it was supposed to be with Vera, but not anyone else. It’s hard, at least for me, to do when writing and editing with just a couple of hours; I don’t want the update to be lifeless and boring, but I will try and be conservative next time.

> Some words and tense/grammar was a little strange but it was all understandable so not too big a problem
I’ll work on my editing and grammar, and I hope it’ll improve with time.

> She was fine, if not exactly waifu material to me. I liked her as a kindly mentor figure. Vera was best girl, Tetreus was an entertaining jackass.
I understand, she was both a mentor and Julian’s crush and I had to combine both.
>>
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> There were a few instances where I wasn't really clear on the meaningful difference between the choices presented, such as for dialogue or when planning how to use the beast's stomach acid. Sometimes it seemed like all the options could feasibly be done at once, or that whatever option we picked would have the same end result (or were all such unknowns that it was a crapshoot). That may just me being a brainlet, but if not, that's something I personally think could stand some recalibration for your next quest.
> Some choices seemed illusionary, (like they were just different ways of saying yes ala Fallout 4) or the consequences were not clear enough (cutting the stomach of beast vs the neck, killing the first sentient tree vs avoiding it). For the first one it was mostly for small choices and exposition so it's not too bad a thing. The second one is probably just preference, since there are some things the character has no way of knowing. Maybe have a DC system with modifiers, with different choices relying on different stats. It's a boatload of extra work though so don't blame QMs for not doing it
Since you both had this problem, neither of you is a brainlet and it is the fault of my writing and presentation. I do regret not implementing any kind of rolling-rpg system and my next quest(s) are sure to have it. The way I was writing from update to update was until there was a choice I could stop at, and then bright forward to a vote. I did not know how exactly to scale between small choices and big ones, or between dialogue choices and action choices, so I understand that some of them came up on the short end. During workdays, I did not have a lot of time to prepare an update, and I “forced” myself to find a decision point; I will not do that in my future quest and will decide on a moment where a choice is needed from the players first, and if it's a longer update then I'll postpone.

> This was a really good cozy fantasy quest, with just enough adventure to keep the stakes from being too low and things getting stale, and I'm really glad you ran it to the end. Thank you, QM!
And thank you very much for playing.

> If you can guess who is who by those cards it means I did an alright job.
>>
>>5258910
>I understand, she was both a mentor and Julian’s crush and I had to combine both
I think it came across well. She just wasn't my cup of tea, in the end.

>>5258912
Left is Vera, middle is Tetreus, right is Carinda?
>>
https://lws.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?searchall=shortstack
Last thread added to the archive if anyone wants to give an upvote(!), but of course I fucked up the numbering.

>>5259012
No~ Left is Carinda, middle is Tetreus, right is Vera.
>>
>>5267140
Thanks for running.
>>
>>5267140
Thanks for running, QM.



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