Of your only living family, your aunt was hanging by the thinnest threads onto life, and you'd taken that opportunity to seize authority of the house. You'd already made your resignation towards one day having to come into conflict with your cousin. The only one left in the list was your uncle, and even at this very moment you found yourself occasionally weighing the pros and cons of simply killing him for what he'd done.

Had becoming Head of House Valen vested you with the role of being judge and jury to your family's actions? Legally... Yes. But personally... What clamped around your insides and left you growing only more distant as your uncle pleaded his case, the single thought that made you wonder if the calm you felt was the result of Shade's scar, or merely the result of numbness spreading through you, was-

"Was it just me...?"

The words filtered soundlessly off your tongue, carried without form in a sigh.

No... It couldn't have just been you. You all cared deeply for one another, you couldn't believe otherwise. But then, how? How had all four of you, convinced you were doing the best you could for each other, ended up so broken?

Or maybe that was too generous to say for yourself and your cousin. The two of you may have loved Clara and Byrn, but until recently you had been so preoccupied with your own life that the effects of your actions on your family as a whole barely occurred to you; You've no doubt much the same could be said of Caylen.

But he was gone now, and you were here. Home. Forced to stare at the crumbling pieces of the only family you had left.

Your eyes drifted shut.

You are Irue Valen, blood heir of House Valen.

You legally became an adult after declaring your intent to take Rite of Initiation, to choose an individual to be named your Testament and win their trust and loyalty. In your hubris, you thought only to inconvenience and spite the family you'd felt was trying to push you around and chosen all three of your candidates, just to incur the greatest financial drain on them you could for daring to even put you in that situation.

Thinking back on it now, the childishness of it all wrung a sardonic grin from your lips. Reality had set in not long after, and the struggle to earn their trust, much less their loyalty, would go on to exhaust and break you down in ways you couldn't have prepared for. Your pointless pride, your baseless confidence, your self-centered ego... If the rite was a test of character, you see no reason you should have passed. You failed every step of the way.

Always scrambling to keep it all from falling apart. Desperate bids for deals and compromises, for promises made that you would eventually have to confront you had no ability to fulfill.

...Still, you had passed. Found yourself struggling for answers, trying and failing to bottle your emotions and stress up and handle everything yourself. It took coming into contact with Dryad to finally make you crack, and once that first crack started, the flood was soon to follow. You took a risk and bared your all, forever changing the kind of relationship you had with your Testament in the process.

People who made you feel at ease. That you could feel safe in trusting, even when given the opportunity to hurt or use you. People you genuinely had come to care for, and felt accountable towards. That you could take hand in hand and support one another without hesitation.

After your family, your Testament meant the most to you. Meant everything to you.

...But Kara wasn't here, and neither was Asche.

And, as your eyes slowly reopened, as you stared down your uncle, you knew that the warmth and safety you had felt with your family had quietly left as well.

You are Irue Valen, and after the betrayal had passed, you were left feeling very alone... And helpless to stop it, with the people you cared for most slipping away from your grasp like grains of sand falling through your fingers.

"Irue, kiddo... Let me help you."

You shook your head slowly, thoughts synchronizing with your feelings with the motion. "No. You no longer have that privilege."

"...What?" Byrn stilled, studying you in concern. You let your eyes dip to the floor just long enough to gather yourself before continuing.

"Setting aside what Artemis has done to create Nymph's Wood," because it was a lecture all on its own that you doubted the man would understand your side of, much less the side Artemis had tried to explain to him, "They are responsible for causing the civil war and subsequent collapse of Teranford, and likely the isolation of East Heaven. Through you, House Valen has also been made to dance to their tune, and now we're on the cusp of what is like to be the third civil war they've caused."

"You can't possibly believe that." your uncle scoffed, "East Heaven's borders closed due to their royal family squabbling over who had the right to succession, and Teranford-"

"Salamander was driven from Teranford." You cut in, "The Mana do not abandon the world, much less their Throne, Byrn. Salamander was forced out by a sudden abundance of Nymph's Wood, which served as a catalyst for the war that would split the nation. By your own admission, Nymph's Wood was a cultivation of Artemis, which begs the question of who else would have such a glut of the stuff as to terraform a desert with it if not the people who made it in the first place?"

You waited for a retort, but couldn't bring yourself to feel satisfied when the man had nothing to say. "At most the involvement of Artemis in East Heaven is something I can't confirm yet, but one of the healers acting as our guest probably can, should she feel so inclined." You imagine there was a great deal about East Heaven she could tell you if she felt so inclined. The problem was getting that inclination in the first place. "And as for La'Fiel..."

You trailed off. You didn't need to explain it further, when this conversation itself was a result of the fact being argued.

"...I don't see further debate being productive, kiddo." Byrn rumbled his frustration. "It's clear I'm not getting through to you, and even if what you say about the wars is true, the threat Dryad poses to our family, and the world, is too big for me to not take action."

"..." You raised your Shade clawed hand, outstretching your serrated fingertips towards your uncle - And as your wrist passed the unspoken space between you, Lily's tendrils receded further up your arm to avoid him. "I didn't come here to debate you, Byrn. I came for answers."

There was only so far against the wall he could press himself before your fingertip reached the neck of his shirt, and with a dispassionate downward flick, the fabric shore in half down to his portly belly. You barely felt the resistance, like slicing through jelly with a knife... And beneath the silken layers, your suspicions were proven true. A single flower bloomed over his heart, its vines weaving in and out of his flesh across his torso... No doubt having grown thoroughly attached to his ribcage like a lattice.

"...Of course." You sighed, letting your hand drop to your side. "You let them implant it in you as well."

"If I hadn't done at least this much, I would have been defenseless." Byrn attested, "...And if I hadn't had them do it to me, there was no way I would have let them do it to my wife."

"Yeah." You offered a hollow agreement.

>Kill your uncle. Your family was already broken, better to clean up loose ends.
>Leave him to imprisonment. You couldn't waste more time on him.
>Forgive him. The bond of trust was lost, but he wasn't your enemy. He was still family.
>Other? (write-in)

Previous Threads:
http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=Valen+Quest

Where things are said: https://twitter.com/Riz_QM
Where things are asked: http://ask.fm/RizQM

Assorted Supplemental:
Irue Things (up to 74) - https://pastebin.com/PchcdWpw
A List of Forgotten Things (up to 74) - http://pastebin.com/kPEscJ3h
Irue's Memoirs (Scares the QM to update) - http://pastebin.com/sWnicrK7

Arc I - https://drive.google.com/file/d/1DMjxLjSbvr-xcxqX9M_ysKaBV1zkUmu5/view?usp=sharing
Arc II - https://drive.google.com/file/d/1cXL1fIYb22IqQ51wWUp3-IMZa2nV5TY8/view?usp=sharing

"Really I'd say anybody catching up should read threads instead of this because of what goes on in them, so this is more for looking back I'd say." - Ebook anon

Write-ups:
Kara's Day Out - http://pastebin.com/8ZbiSKLs
Adventures with Asche - http://pastebin.com/RNviCBJu
The Reclaimed Doll - http://pastebin.com/n6miP1qT
In Your Shadow - http://pastebin.com/EfeeHFAE
Friends Forever - http://pastebin.com/Yn0QaTVB
The Woman Beneath Steel - http://pastebin.com/pMGgiHC3
Paper Flowers - https://pastebin.com/Pk0W7rEm
Merciless Compass - https://pastebin.com/8Hy0krxv
Better Strangers - https://pastebin.com/mvShXpCt

Misc notes:I have answered many Asks. Anyway, halfway through may is basically April.

Memo:
1. Work through dying before it causes issues with the Shade scar.
2. Return and investigate the Dryad Shrine
3. Investigate the Valen catacombs

Itinerary:
1. Discern knights with an affinity for Mana worth polishing.
2. Contact the Crown
3. Track down Asche, who left to find the descendant of the Ice Queen's bloodline.
4. Track down the Tier siblings, currently located in Resuri.
5. Expedition for resources to the north.
6. Unfinished business at the Ruined Shrine.
7. Meditate to Shade today with bracelet removed to try and deal with the claws

Current Goal:
What's On Your Mind:

>>5273573
>Kill your uncle. Your family was already broken, better to clean up loose ends.
Die you disgusting parasite!

Hi Riz! You're 5 months early!

>>5273573
>"...And if I hadn't had them do it to me, there was no way I would have let them do it to my wife."

This guy. I notice you're still in one piece you cheeky fucker.

>>Leave him to imprisonment. You couldn't waste more time on him.

He might be of some small use later. Until then,
>explain what it means to implant NW into your body, explain that whatever happens to him he will be unable to die until the plant is physically removed or destroyed.
>such is the fate he dealt Clara, and if she dies during the removal perhaps we will bury him alive to endure as a living corpse for centuries untold until he stops thinking
We'll probably just rip out the plant and kill him normally but there's no reason not to let him sweat.
>also you're on quarter rations from now on. Its not like you can starve to death any more.

We could use him as a dry run for the removal later. Just throwing that out there.

>>5273573
>Leave him to imprisonment. You couldn't waste more time on him.
I wonder if the Bracelet would work on him now, since he has been integrated with the Nymph Wood.

>>5273674
This is a funny idea. Let's try it.

>>5273573
>Forgive him. The bond of trust was lost, but he wasn't your enemy. He was still family.

>>5273564
Welcome back.

>>5273567
>and you'd taken that opportunity to seize authority of the house
More like finally claimed our birthright, but who's counting?

>>5273573
>Kill your uncle. Your family was already broken, better to clean up loose ends.
He has exposed himself as a traitor and a fraud to his core, and he is a considerable liability. And I harbor a spark of worry about him having a "man on the inside" that could spring him.


>>5273674
If he was integrated with a Dryad creature, it might've done something. But iirc, Nymph's Wood doesn't react to bracelet, which makes sense with the current theory about the wood's nature.

YEAH, this guy has been an artemis plant from day one. i say we done kill this mother fucker. yea

>>5273573

>Forgive him. The bond of trust was lost, but he wasn't your enemy. He was still family.

How droll, he's turned himself into an abomination.

Even if he can be easily killed (which is an if based on Clara's condition), he's more valuable alive, he's one of our few remaining levers on Caylen, and an useful specimen for figuring out how the hell to put Clara back together.

The difference between ourselves and Byrn is some nebulous confluence of power and fortune. Our most trusted allies now were once as wretched as he is, and they would chose no different if they were given only that opportunity.

He IS pathetic and loathsome, that is true, but that cuts both ways. He's quite literally not worth killing for the weight it will put on Irue's mind. Further, his death would count against us: We've already started accumulating dangerous stories the moment we ascended to head of House Valen, killing our regent is politically inconvenient.

I say we keep him here. Figure some useful countermeasures against escape and enemy contact and move on to more important things. In the rare case that Artemis finds enough value in him to extract him, that very scenario would be one of our best leads to rooting them out.

And to be perfectly frank, he wants to die. You know it, I know it, and in Auntie Clara's house, we use spite. If he does not have the will to be useful to family he betrayed, we will assign him one.

Why would he ever think he would be permitted to escape this?

>>5274069

I should note that it wasn't a mistake to take that prompt. He can't be allowed to roam free, but there's no point in hating him or ignoring him. He's not any more pathetic than Caylen galivanting on his own little adventure as the "hero"

It's in his stupid, spineless nature. To hate him is to give him more credit than he's due.

>>5273573
>>Kill your uncle. Your family was already broken, better to clean up loose ends.

Blood for the blood god

Will be updating a little later tonight!

>>5273607
I'm a month late! Late!

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>>5273587
>>5273832
>>5274110
Kill!

>>5273607
>>5273674
Leave him to be dealt with later.

>>5273829
>>5274069
You couldn't bring yourself to hate the man.

There's a first time for everything, today's first time is Irue killing someone with their own hands! No more will our death tally be relegated to indirect slaughter.

Curious path we've chosen, but writing!

>>5274592
This sort of result makes me wish that contentious votes were a binary choice so votes don't get "split" like this, especially with something so important.

>>5274607
That's an interesting idea! From a voter/user standpoint that would work out really well, but it creates difficulty on the other end when important outcomes have... Well, more than two possible outcomes.

This vote has relatively little to do with Byrn dying, for reasons another anon caught onto, and is significantly more responsible for shaping Irue.

>>5274609
Ways to do things simultaneously I have seen that other threads do is either
"Modifiers" e.g.
> Option "A"
>> Sub-Option "1"
>>> Modifier "a"
>Option B
etc.

Where each vote is "siloed", and taken independently, so should say Option "A" win the vote above, votes for it's Sub-Option are tallied, so on so forth until everything is exhausted and a result is had

Or

The other one would be to move to a "limited preference" system, where voters can select some number of options (could be a single alternate choice, a set number, up to the voter, or all in order of preference, each changes the exact "mechanics" behind how to get what you want and the influences of voting).

of Options "A"~"E"

>Option "A"
>Option "D"
>Option "B"

The choice(s) with the least votes are reassigned according to "their" next preference until any "option" has more than 50% of the total votes cast, (limiting the number of preferences means that you can prevent a choice by not listing that option and therefor eliminating a possible vote for that outcome should it be one of the last rounds of redistributions, or a "competitor" in it's place), though this has other issues that could become noticeable / exploited (however unlikely), and we do have dice to resolve any ties we get anyway, so an even number of voters doesn't matter, and should a majority option not eventuate, you could either have people revote from a more limited pool of options, only allow votes with all options listed be valid or take the "Plurality candidate"; option with the most votes.

Not to make you change just something to think on, though if you were going to try it I would recommend waiting until a vote with lower "stakes" comes around if that ever happens

>>5274624
>lower "stakes"
No such thing. If we had to vote on the color of underwear to put on for the day, it would be life changing.

>>5274592
Aww dammit, can I still vote for not killing him? I fear for Irue's psyche if she does that.

At this point, could you still forgive your uncle? Your gut twisted upon itself just looking at him, telling you just how unlikely that would be. You didn't hate him, couldn't hate him, but there was something there in its stead. A grudge, maybe? Or disgust? Or maybe just the anger and distress he'd caused that you had no outlet for. The seething, roiling desire to... If not get revenge, then to at least find some way to ensure he could understand just what a miserable thing he'd done. To understand the feeling he'd left you holding.

"So, what now kiddo?" Byrn adjusted his now separated shirt, plump fingers fumbling over the uselessly pinned buttons on one side. "You've taken control, so I assume I'll be sitting in a cell for quite some time?"

You lifted Lily from your face, gently disentangling the attentive child's vines from your hair in the process. Byrn's gaze followed her more than it did you, suspiciously glowering at the little Dryad apparition as you set her aside and softly shushed her curious complaints.

"I thought about it. Leaving you locked up, at least until aunt Clara could wake up and judge you herself." For all the wrongs he had done you, you held no delusions that his crimes against you outweighed that of the ones against your aunt. No, in a better world, she would have been the one to pass judgement on her husband for what he'd done. "I suspect you're worth keeping around, as well. You've worked extensively with Artemis, and Caylen... Caylen, Caylen, Caylen..." You trailed off, flexing the fingers of your ruined wrist contemplatively. You still felt nothing from it, even as the Shade scar's presence colored your skin with ink-like tendrils. It shouldn't be operable, but you'd become quite dextrous with it out of necessity once the claws had manifested. "Caylen would be very upset if something happened to you. I don't know if he'd ever forgive me."

"I may be able to answer some questions." Byrn agreed, finally taking his eyes off Lily as you stepped towards him. "I'd like to avoid interrogation, if possible. Not a fan of pain. Not that I think you would do anything rash, kiddo." He levied a disarming smile your way. "So, what do you want to know?"

"I don't want to know anymore from you, Byrn. What I want is to help you understand."
"It wants its siblings to understand."

"...Pardon? Understand what?"
"Understand what, exactly?"

"What you've caused."
"Pain. Suffering. Rejection. Loss. The way it feels to have the things you love ripped away. Loneliness."

Your foot crossed the threshold of Nymph's Wood's safety, unhurriedly advancing on the larger man. Lily had to be set aside for you to do this, because that child would have never allowed you to get this close. And, in truth, without Lily you were rather outsized by your uncle. He certainly had you in weight several times over, and his raw physical strength could probably haul you off the ground with minimal effort.

"...Irue, think clearly. I know you must be upset with me, but if you lose yourself to revenge now, you'll regret it."
"That sounds a lot like hate."

"This isn't revenge, uncle." You raised your claws to strike.
"It's not."
"It's education."

You couldn't feel the claws parting his flesh, nor the depth of the lacerations as you shred through fat and muscle alike, but the smell of blood was overpowering... And the flecks splattered across your face burned. Lily watched on, her attention undoubtedly rapt on your every move, as your arm lashed out to carve the necessary lessons into Byrn's body. The biggest problem was simply that he didn't want to learn. He'd let himself be crippled to catch your arm, and with it trapped once more in his grasp the scenario from before his arrest swiftly repeated.

Without a chance to let you recover, his sausage like fingers clenched and the whole of his sizable weight was swung around to deliver a meaty hook to your temple. Your head whipped around with it, the rest of your body crumpling nearly to the ground from sheer physical shock as he tightened his iron grip on your clawed hand and kept your slackened body aloft with it. "Mana damn you, Irue!" He growled, rearing his mallet like fist back to strike again. "We didn't have to do this!"

A second blow to your temple bounced your skull off the floor, and the third and fourth which followed... Your body jerked with every blow your uncle landed, and they continued to rain. Wild, heaving strikes, like being manhandled by a boar. With every strike, Lily continued to watch, separated from you by the Nymph's Wood warding.

Finally, his haggard beating came to an end. He gasped for breath, lifting you from the floor by the shirt with both hands to roll your head limply about your shoulders. "Dammit. Dammit all." He cursed between breaths, "Everything's going wrong. Luna only knows what to do now..."

Weakly, you managed to lay your uninjured hand on his arm, and in doing so snap his attention back to you as you pulled your head forward... And sheathed your serrated claws between his ribcage. "The Paladin hit a lot harder..." You groused, squinting dizziness from your eyes while ink-like clouds swirled thickly across your skin, dispersing back beneath your pale complexion to expose the unblemished surface.

You had barely started getting your feet back under you before Byrn had shoved you away, leaving you sprawling uncouthely across the flower garden Lily had made of the floor - Said apparition wasting little time in reaching out to caress your forehead.

Sitting up, you shook your head lightly to clear the remaining dizziness. There'd been a vague feeling of impact, but nothing more. You were scared for a moment, but fear had quickly given way to motion sickness, and you felt a little nauseous still... You cracked an eye open, having felt safe in taking your time recovering given Lily's proximity, only to find your uncle trying to sputter something at you desperately. He tried, his hands clutching at his chest where deep scarlet poured freely, but only viscous, wet rasps escaped.

You shook out the twinge in your arm, flinging a shredded chunk of your uncle's chest cavity to the floor with a heavy splat. You imagined bits and pieces of some organs were in there, but you knew little and less of biology, and it all looked like hamburger now anyway. "Ah..." You held a hand to your head as you finally got back to your feet. "Now look what you've done." You stepped over the discarded viscera, studying Byrn's labored attempts to wheeze breathe into shredded lungs. A frown tugged at your lips, and you waited. Looked the man in his eyes and resolved yourself to be the witness to your uncle's final moments.

...His final, pained moments.

His final, pained, wheezing moments.

His-

Your frown deepened. Then, your eyes widened.

"It won't let you die, will it?" You murmur, stepping towards the man. You stood over him for once, looming over his slumped body after he'd dropped to his knees, trying to form words, to form a response. But, if he hadn't managed to by now... He wouldn't be able to. Dryad may deny death, but it couldn't heal your injuries. The best it could do was keep you alive, no matter how battered, broken or ruined your body became. You knew that rather intimately.

You knelt before him, looking your uncle in his tear glazed eyes, and laid your clawed hand gently, and ever so carefully, on his shoulder. "I'm sorry." A simple, heartfelt apology. "For what it's worth, I don't hate you. I'll never be able to forgive you for what you've done, though... And you're going to have a very, very long time to understand why." You squeezed his shoulder, carving sinew and tendon in the process of what would otherwise have been a reassuring gesture.

And Lily watched on.

The guards outside the door stood stiffly at attention when you finally left the room, covered in bloodstained clothes. You stood at the threshold of your uncle's room, with Lily now once more resting along your forehead, momentarily at a loss. Nymph's Wood was going to do everything it could to prevent your uncle from dying, and you have no idea how similar to Dryad it could be in that regard.... But unless you picked the man's body apart to surgically remove the plant from him, killing him wasn't quite as certain an option as you'd expected it to be.

You wiped at your face with an undirtied sleeve, dabbing ticklish moisture from your eyes before tears could form and frustrate you further.

Maybe your uncle... Maybe Byrn had been right. Maybe Dryad had influenced you more than you knew. But maybe you were starting to understand how Dryad felt, and the feelings its siblings had left it with in that unending nightmare.

Whichever the case, so much had gone wrong in that room. You couldn't even kill him now without torturing him, thanks to Nymph's Wood... But you had meant to kill him. To bury your affection towards him once and for all and clean up a blatant loose end.

...Maybe the only family you had left were just broken pieces, but with this you were letting even the pieces fall from your shaking hands.

"Ser Valen?" You nudged Lily's mask with your knuckle as you wiped your eyes one last time, letting her slide down in place to hide your face. The redness in your eyes at the moment had nothing to do with your bloodline.

"What?"

"Do we..." The guard hesitated, "Are there new orders, or should we continue to keep watch?"

"...Stay here." He wasn't dead. You sniffled undignifiedly, clearing your throat.

"As you wish." The guards returned to their post, and you...

>You needed to work. You had a lot to do, and all of it would make a good distraction.
>>Hunting down the sole remaining Artemis agent still hiding somewhere.
>>'A Spider's Web'
>>Filching out what details you could of the territory from Byrn's dealings.
>>Other? (write-in)

>You needed to unwind after that.
>>'A Spider's Web'
>>Address the nightmare colt that had accosted you.
>>Check on your aunt.
>>Seek someone out to spend time with (who?)
>>'A Spider's Web'
>>Other? (write-in)

Alright, let's try it out! Pick your main option and your sub-option, and we'll go from there.

>>5274730
>>Hunting down the sole remaining Artemis agent still hiding somewhere.
>>'A Spider's Web'

>>5274730
This was horrifying. I'm afraid for what you anons did to Irue with your careless vote.

>You needed to work. You had a lot to do, and all of it would make a good distraction.
>>Hunting down the sole remaining Artemis agent still hiding somewhere.

>>5274730
>You needed to work. You had a lot to do, and all of it would make a good distraction.
>>Hunting down the sole remaining Artemis agent still hiding somewhere.
Let's get this out of the way.

>>5274730
I'm presuming the different prefixes are option and sub.
>>You needed to work. You had a lot to do, and all of it would make a good distraction.
>>Hunting down the sole remaining Artemis agent still hiding somewhere.
How we're going to do this, I don't know. They very well might already be gone. But the sooner that any further potential of meddling vanishes the better.

>You needed to unwind after that.
>>Address the nightmare colt that had accosted you.
We're gonna need wheels. Or legs, but Rinnier might not always be an option for that, and I don't think she gives rides.

I'm hesitant to suggest this especially since, while I wouldn't have gone with trying to snuff out Byrn, the inability to do so provides some...opportunities for study. Is it worse to try and kill your uncle or to vivisect him? Honestly, the former is just court politics, though the latter might be objectionable.
It's not something I'm partial to doing because I don't know how much we really need to learn about the interaction between the Nymph's Wood and a human body right now, I'm just floating ideas.

>>5274849
>Is it worse to try and kill your uncle or to vivisect him? Honestly, the former is just court politics, though the latter might be objectionable.
Our moral compass caught fire and melted during our handling of Ari's torture room, so I don't see why we would have a problem with it. We've got more pressing things to deal with, but any moral objections are long gone.

>>5274733
whoops I confused the format. Basically hunt down the artemis agent

>>5274730
>You needed to unwind after that.
>>Address the nightmare colt that had accosted you.

>>5274730
>You needed to unwind after that.
>>Check on your aunt.
We're probably going to need to wind ourselves back up in order to do what comes next.

>>5274853

This is the problem with it. It's tautological.

The end of morality is not when you do evil or do not do good, but when you ignore the difference.

It defeats the purpose of the exercise to be upset at a decision. That said, forgive me if I fight tooth and nail against the amoral Irue.

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I felt drained and empty for the remainder of the day after reading this.

tfw valen quest

>>5274730
>You needed to unwind after that.
>>Check on your aunt.

>>5275262
Anon the thread just started, you can't be like that yet! We still have so much time for it to get worse.

>>5275282
Riz have we ruined Lily?

>>5275400
Being a parent is filled with worries like these, anon!

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>>5275262
>I felt drained and empty for the remainder of the day after reading this.
pic related

By the way, I hope we get out of this bloody clothing before doing our next task. We don't need even more rumors going around about us.

I'm afraid to even really look at the story posts after seeing what was being voted on, given that I still haven't caught up. However, seeing all the dejected voices in the aftermath, I almost wish I voted despite not know what is going on.

I liked the update, for one. Haha

>>5274733
>>5274757
>>5274835
>>5274849
Need to work!
Sub option that won here was hunting down the remaining Artemis agent. With the web.

>>5274849
>>5275001
>>5275051
>>5275262
Need to unwind!
Suboption that won here was nothing, because you tied on checking on your aunt and dealing with the colt.

First test of voting system lead immediately not just to a tie, but a tie where if one side won, it would be tied again anyway.. Gonna flip a coin on this if no one breaks the tie in the next ~15m or so, then get writing!

>>5275806
Old anon catching up, or new anon? It's really surprising to think there might actually be new anons even these days. How far have you caught up so far?

Rolled 2, 2 = 4 (2d2)

>>5275878
1. Finding artemis!
2. Unwinding!
2a. Check on your aunt
2b. Go confront the colt.

>>5275878
I was the anon that was still catching up in recent prior threads. I only ever caught the very first thread live, I've been catching up ever since when I have the time.

I actually can't remember where I last was in catching up, I think it was something big to do with Dryad or something.

You needed to unwind. You'd already done all you could looking through Byrn's records earlier, and short of 'A Spider's Web' or Lily, you didn't have many ways you could feasibly help Rinnier and the house guards search out the missing Artemis agent. No, the more you thought of things you should be doing, the more you felt like what you needed was space. Something to focus on that didn't have any overarching stakes or stress attached to it. A distraction.

Fortunately, this place had plenty of those. In fact, there was an unexplained immature nightmare lurking out in the stables just waiting for you to go be distracted by it! The thought didn't arouse much enthusiasm in you, but it was at least enough to make you curious.

Aunt Clara's Testament, Ser Stomperson, had inflicted a storied degree of miserable experiences and traumas upon you from as far back as you could remember - Perhaps unfairly, this had contributed handily towards a general disdain for all horses. While you weren't an expert on Manaborne beasts precisely, you had the general understanding that Nightmares were all, by nature, foul and dickish creatures; Despite taking the form of a horse, they were theorized to be primarily carnivores who deliberately taunted, harassed, and played with their prey before killing it. A side effect, you remember reading, that many scholars attributed to Shade's influence.

They were correct, in a sense, as your aunt had been fond of noting that Ser Stomperson could smell your fear. Manaborne beasts associated with Shade often displayed inexplicable empathic capabilities... While it was true nightmares were carnivorous, a fair portion of their diet, some few studies speculated, consisted of emotional vampirism. Which was to say, there was a very real chance that Ser Stomperson derived some form of snacking from the ire and misery he'd rampantly caused to those around him, and the possibility pissed you off.

Memories of suffering to the ill-natured bastard didn't help your lack of enthusiasm dealing with the colt, but it was a relief in its own way. A relatively harmless sort of anger and frustration, which you could just let yourself be mad over without any extra baggage. Fortunately, you weren't going to have to deal with said Testament today, and with any luck the colt would be less of an all-round asshole than its sire.

Unfortunately, this reminded you that Ser Stomperson was dead now - thanks to Artemis - and this left you dangerously threatening to circle back to the very baggage you were trying to put aside for the moment.

Shoving it all out of your mind, you come to a stop in front of the closed up stables. Everything was still firmly shut, just as you'd left it after scrambling free of the thing's impromptu ambush the first time around... So it should still be inside.

Knowing its general location didn't quite help you though, since the insides of the stable were pitch black. Even if you could see in the dark, nightmares quite literally disappeared in the darkness. It was part of how they hunted.

Your arms crossed, careful not to accidentally ruin your bloodstained clothes any further with an errant finger swipe. You could set about weaving to not have to deal with its ability to hide... Or try to use Lily's ability to sense life to deal with it in a less accurate and objectively inferior in all ways manner. The affectionate child's leaves gently brushed across your cheek when the idea crossed your mind, perhaps catching a hint of your thoughts through the bracelet's connection.

You nudged the vine gently, feeling Lily wiggle as you pet her, and let your eyes unfocus while staring up at the stable doors.

...What was your plan here? Nightmares were sadistic bastards at the best of times, and you have no idea if the recent death of Ser Stomperson had left this one in an even worse mood. Were they a family-oriented beast? Could they even feel affection? You have no idea. You didn't even know what it was here for, it was just something your aunt did at some point. Some pet project of hers, maybe.

>What is your goal with this thing?

>>5275984
>Tame it
It's still young, so if we're going to do it, let's do it now. I doubt it will be easy but might as well try

>>5275984
If we're to establish rapport, and more importantly, command, over this beast, we'll need to understand it. As a Shade beast, though, we do have a decent amount of experience in dealing with such things...as well as being somewhat of a Shade beast ourselves.
As this colt is Ser Stomperson's progeny, perhaps, a good thing to try and attune to with Shade might be a feeling of vengeance? That's certainly been cultivated by smearing ourselves with Uncle's blood. Never say to anybody "I'm covered in my uncle's fluids"
So to specify:
>Attune to Shade- Try and build an empathetic link with the Nightmare.

My prediction for the future:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C8DTGd9XQtw

>>5275984
I have no idea what to do with it. Are we planning on stealing it away from our Aunt? If so, we might be able to swing an angle in our shared Shade leanings. Of course, knowing Shade's competition and challenge aspects, that'll just make the thing even more difficult to handle.

Frankly, I'd rather stay away from it entirely, but if we're going to interact with it I dunno what other reason we have to interact with it.

Could always burn down the stables with the colt inside as a final revenge on Ser Stomperton.

>>5275984
Kill it.

>>5275984
>>5276398

Being a shadetouched creature, we need to remember it's entirely possible to impress it (in the archaic sense of the term)

It's not insurmountable, and despite being aloof, it is not unreachable.

I say the simplest way to do it it is to walk in there. I don't know why we decided to approach a shade-touched creature to wind down, but the way to do it is probably as follows.

We enter, bold as brass, and wait. It's going to see us, unstable and upset, and it's going to see prey (or at the least, a target).

So we play with it. It tries to scare us, we run. It chases, we turn on it; force it into the dark again. If it strikes, we evade, and we give it a swat on the flank (with the normal hand, please) for the attempt.

The goal isn't to be stoic and deny thing thing, it's to work out our emotions the same way you'd work muscles in therapy. Fear, and relax, anger and calm, up and down, until we've gotten everything warmed back up and balanced.

Let's note that the nightmare remains an adversary in that exercise. An animal, no matter how smart it is. If we let it, it will run us to physical and emotional exhaustion or worse.

But that's Shade baby.

In any case I think that's going to be a more effective (if a bit riskier) option than trying to Nightmare whisperer it from outside.

What are we afraid of anyways?

Oh, just everything. I expect this scene to end in tears, but they might be useful ones. Just make sure we change clothing as soon as we've worked our tension out as best as we can.

>Play with the Nightmare; Hide and seek, scare and flee, cry and laugh.

>>5276569

Line six: deny the thing*

Will be tallying votes and writing shortly!

>>5275993
Taming!

>>5276386 (Shade meditation specifically)
>>5276569 (light hearted mutual abuse)
A form of rapport!

>>5276398
NTR and or death!

>>5276546
Death!

Alright, writing!

A piece of you seriously considered just burning the stables down around it. Nightmares could be a menace, and if it got free and started preying around the countryside then the number of people it'd kill before anyone managed to catch it wasn't something to sneeze at. The fact it would serve as one final, spiteful closure towards your memories of its sire was a coincidence, of course - You've been slipping lately, but you wouldn't kill a child because you hated its parent.

...But if it just lined up that way coincidentally, then- Wait, no. You shook your head ruefully, managing a grim smile despite yourself. Not going to entertain that any further.

So if it wasn't getting put down just yet, your only real options here were to ignore it or try to bring it to heel before it got itself into trouble. You weren't experienced with horses, but you vaguely remember something about breaking them in by riding them? Did that apply to nightmares? They were more a Manaborne beast than a horse... Which theoretically worked out better for you, because you knew a lot more about Mana than you did horses. So if you were to take a guess at how to deal with a Shadeborne beast then...

You rested a knuckle against your chin while you thought it over.

"...It's still riding, isn't it?" You finally murmur, eliciting a reassuring rustling from Lily's vines. "Alright, fine. Exercise it is, then."

You've no idea how long this thing has been locked up in that stable, but if it fed on negative emotions then you'd be damned if you weren't a snack right about now. "What could go wrong?" You direct the question up at Lily while urging her to retract the vines keeping the stable shut. "Worst case scenario it tries to eat me."

"Eat me~" Lily trilled back merrily.

Your eyes roll as the gates wrench open, throwing wide the gaping black maw of the unlit stables to allow a puddle of sunlight to pool just around the entrance. The scent of dried blood washed over you with an almost physical force. Less of a surprise this time, but enough to make you wrinkle your nose all the same... And then tug the beginnings of a frown out of you as you stepped inside.

This thing hadn't been fed in a while as far as you knew, and it was a carnivore. It'd just been left to starve in a place that stank of blood.

You heard the clops approaching the same moment this thought occurred, and in that moment you weren't sure which led to the nervous chill down your spine screaming at you to move.

Meanwhile...

"I just want to sleep..." A man whined pitifully from among his group, shuffling and stumbling in varying states of dignity through the Valen estate halls. "Why do we have to wake up so early? I wasn't this exhausted when we were camping outside that noble brat's house."

"Ser Caylen." Another hissed a correction, shoving the whining man forward. He very nearly fell over from it, but caught himself on the tiredly extended arm of one of the few women in the group.

"Listen, I don't know their names," The man stressed, "There's the feyliege, that bombshell Lamandra, and the creepy one. Amy?"

"Fuck's sake, Barret." The one who'd shoved him ran an aggrieved hand down his face. "Ari. Her name is Ari, and if Miss Lamandra heard you just now, none of us would be saving you."

"I'll take her over the instructor we got." Barret sniffed. "When she's not barking orders she's kinda pretty, sure, but... Man, by the time we're done I couldn't get it up even if someone was working it, y'know? I'm too tired!"

"I don't want to keep listening to this conversation." A woman growled. "Carla, why don't we check out the gardens until our evening session?"

"Ah? Yeah, sure. I heard there's really peppery flower blooming there." The woman holding Barret up perked up, almost dropping him to the ground as she split off from the group. "See you at dinner, boys."

"W-wait, hold on!" Barret stammered, "Carla, you get me, right? We're comrades in this right?"

"Uh..." Carla let the question hang awkwardly. "Nah, I got what I wanted."

"W-What?" Barret came to a full stop in the hall. "No way, bullshit."

"Way~," A lascivious grin split her lips as she taunted her fellow knight. "Shirt comes off an hour in, every day, like clockwork."

"I hate you. I hate you so much."

"And he's so hands on, when he's correcting our stances he'll just wrap his arms around you from behind and move you-"

"I take this as the highest of betrayals." Barret accused. "We are no longer comrades."

"Aw, don't be like that-"

"From today on, my extra rations are going to Thomas."

"Wait no, don't be like that! Barret!" Carla half turned back to the complaining knight, but switched her focus when something out the window caught her eye. "Hey, speaking of the little feyliege! Check it out, out by those stables."

"Huh?" That caught the group's attention, at least in passing, as they slowed their pace to watch their feyliege will open the stable doors.

"How d'ya think that vine thing works, anyway?" Barret mused.

Carla's head tilted. "Eeeh... Ancient bloodline powers, maybe? I was telling Jenna about this rumour I heard back in Carona and-"

"Shade give me strength..." The woman who had broken off first trudged back towards the group to look out the window. "Carla, ancient bloodlines granting magical powers isn't a thing."

"Yeah? Well what about Lamandra, huh? Checkmate Jenna." Carla held her fist out without looking to receive a long practiced bump from Barret. "And since when did you swear on Shade, huh?"

"Since having to deal with you drove me crazy." Jenna deadpanned. "I'll pray to whatever gives me the strength to get through the day, and I can't afford a hangover while training."

"Hey, they went inside!" Barret shook Carla by the shoulder to get her attention, "Did your instructor tell you anything about what was in there? Ours just said not to go near it."

"Uh... A colt, I think?" Carla mused, looking to Jenna for confirmation. "Yeah, but like, not a normal on- Oh shit." The assembled knights cringed painfully as a stream of blond hair arced right back out of the stables and crashed into the grass. They watched on in dead silence as the noble they'd sworn fealty to laid motionless after the impact. "Is... Is Ser Valen okay?"

After a couple seconds longer, the little feyliege sat up and shook their head. They crawled back to their feet, shook out their arms and stalked back into the stables before disappearing into the darkness again. Silence reigned in the hall. Seconds stretching out awkwardly into an eternity... And then the little blonde noble was sent careening back out into the grass, hitting the earth like a smooth stone and skipping along the lawn before rolling to a stop.

"Oh... Oooof."

They got back up quicker this time, forcing themselves right back to their feet and jogging back towards the stables.

"What... What's going on?" Carla laid her palm against the window, then glanced sideways to her peers. "Should we uh... Should we go help?"

"I mean-" Irue's best shooting star impression underwent its third iteration, crashlanding with their spine bent in half. This preceded the quickest recovery so far, with the feyliege surging back to their feet and shouting something too distant to make out before sprinting back inside. "No?"

Barret's answer was more question than statement, and his eyes shifted side to side to seek corroboration on that sentiment. The knights murmured among themselves, somewhat torn on the idea.

The fourth time, what came flying out of the stables was a young horse; Pitch black from nose to tail, with an unruly mane of inky smoke. Its four spindly legs splayed ungracefully along the lawn after hitting the ground, and, not to be outdone, its own drive to scramble back to its feet was a sight to see before it furiously shook its head and stamped clods of dirt up with its hoof. Ducking its head, it stampeded back into the stables.

Wordless, the knights waited.

When their feyliege made a complete flip before hitting the ground the next time they were ejected from the stables, a decision was made.

"Five gold on the horse."

"Carla!" Jenna hissed, "You are not betting on this!"

"I'm with Jen on this one." Barret agreed, "Besides, you ain't got five gold."

"Yeah? Fine. Two gold and I don't tell your instructor you wanted to jerk it to her."

"...Well, first of all." Barret looked offended, "three gold on Ser Valen."

"Barret! Don't encourage her!" Jenna looked aghast.

"Alright, alright, so is anyone else betting?" Carla ignored her friend.

"...What are you all doing?" A different voice altogether cut in. Carla turned with a grin that froze awkwardly on her face when she who it was.

"We're uh... Placing bets on who's gonna win." She managed to explain, "Haven't seen you in a few days, Miska. What're you up to?"

Miska looked past the knights, watching Irue back pedal into a stable post before diving out of the way before they could get sandwiched between said pillar and a pair of hooves. There was a brief moment when it seemed like the small blonde had managed to clamber atop their opponent and had begun riding it... Before it bucked up and slammed its rider's face into the lip of the doorframe to dislodge them.

Stoically, Miska slipped a satchel from her waist and handed it over to Carla. "Ten gold on my feyliege."

Carla stared dumbstruck at the money in her hand, but a cheshire grin bloomed almost immediately after. "Alright! You heard the woman, pot's 13 and Barret's dick goes unkicked if the horse wins! Five for Ser Valen! Who else?!"

Betting began in earnest.

>1d100, 70+ is a success.
>Current score: 4:2, nightmare's favor.
>You can have Lily help you if you want to add an extra +15 to all rolls, but this may constitute cheating to your viewers and endanger the pot. (This does not affect Irue though, the knight's gambling is their own business)

Should Lily perform a more active role in all this? Vote and roll simultaneously.
>Yes.
>No.

Rolled 86 (1d100)

>>5277584
>>Yes.
LETS GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Rolled 30 (1d100)

>>5277584

>No

It really doesn't matter who wins, but it does matter who tries.

Besides, Lily will need to drag us out of there when our absolute lack of conditioning catches up with us.

Rolled 86 (1d100)

>>5277584
>No.
This is supposed to be Irue unwinding right?

File: horsingaround.jpg (132 KB, 1743x854)

132 KB JPG

>>5277693
>This is supposed to be Irue unwinding right?
Yes.

Rolled 4 (1d100)

>>5277584
>Yes
Use all means at our disposal.

>>5277693
I think this is Riz unwinding after having to write that horrible scene.

>>5277583
>"Hey, speaking of the little feyliege! Check it out, out by those stables."
Oh no. An audience to our mule-headedness. They already thing we're bizarre, this isn't going to help things!

>"Carla, ancient bloodlines granting magical powers isn't a thing."
It, uh, kinda is a thing. Indirectly. The whole 'Mana don't distinguish between individuals and descendants' thing drives it.

>"Five gold on the horse."
Ok, admittedly, these guys are great. There's a very slapstick thing going on here. Can you imagine what Feyliege Quest would look like? We'd being seeing Rue's absurdity from the outside like this all the time.

>>5277584
>No.
We got this. We totally don't got this but it feels wrong to pull oakenrue into this mutual working out of issues.

Rolled 86 (1d100)

>>5277584
No

>>5277939
Ok at this point, this is getting a little spooky.

Rolled 66 (1d100)

Best of three, right? it's over?

>>5278062
This isn't Bo3, it's a matter of successes! one roll per vote, and if someone doesn't roll with their vote then I'm going to roll Xd100 on the tally to make up for it.

Hey Riz, NW acts pretty different to the (limited) information we have on the fake artefacts made out of fragments. Among other things, it can chase a mana from its throne and occupy territory, almost like a mana proper. Seems like a far cry from the malformed tool/Jinn telephone thing, is it possible they've got some kind of pseudo-mana presence actively managing Dryad's domain now? Like, maybe wherever the nomads are from is its throne, and that's why they have higher birth rates like how you'd expect from Dryad's throne. There's the issue of Rinnier's "stigma" too. She was about as far away from Dryad as you can get when she lost her powers, and they didn't come back once she got away from the Nymph's Wood, which implies that there's some kind of favour or affinity at play beyond the ability of the automaton fragment tools. Also, Lily doesn't seem to love her, which would be strange if Dryad chased away Salamander but could be plausible if there's some kind of replacement Dryad.

Rolled 27 (1d100)

>Three Failures
>Three Success
>>5277584
I will take on the mantle of arbiter of victory. Which is bad news for everybody but fate is a fickle mistress and who she brings over for the party a particular night isn't something you can help.
Except not really because there's still an outstanding roll anyways.
I'll vote for using Lily even though things don't seem to be swinging that way.

>>5278185
M-maybe it's the number of successes rather than successes vs failures.

>>5278185

Anon, we were 2 behind from the get go. The horse is gonna win on score, we gotta win by judges decision.

>>5278176
>NW acts pretty different to the (limited) information we have on the fake artefacts made out of fragments.
It does! They are not the same. The tools you've found were never really born. They can only do the one thing they do. Nymph's Wood, on the other hand, was the "body" of one of the Mana.

It's not accurate to compare the two in form or function, because one is an unborn and artificial imitation, while the other is the mindless and ever-living body of God.

Rolled 37 (1d100)

>>5277922
ah, figured it was Bo3. Rolling.

Rolled 5 (1d100)

>>5277584
>No.

File: 1430188709824.png (120 KB, 750x500)

120 KB PNG

>>5277602
>>5277852
Yes!

>>5277609
>>5277693
>>5277922
>>5277939
>>5278842
No!

>>5277602
>>5277693
>>5277939
Success! + 2

>>5277609
>>5277852
>>5278062
>>5278185
>>5278230
>>5278842
Fail! + 4

Final tally: 10:5, with Lily kept out of it!

Unfortunately i'll have to update tomorrow. I just finished Dying Light 2 and the experience has left me genuinely too angry to formulate words.

we did pretty ok considering the odds
believe in the power of dice

Ah, well if you're counting the failures too then it was impossible from the start.

>>5278866
Well the question is will it get easier if we try again?

>>5278866
>>5278879

Winning would be nice (and keep Miska's pocket fuller, assuming they don't call off the bet after a particularly powerful toss), but the underlying objective is stubbornness. To the nightmare, we are thing that was tossed nine times and stomped right back into the dark, burning the same dark fuels it knows so well.

At the very least, two angry orphans got some good exercise.

>>5277602
>86
>>5277693
>86
>>5277939
>86

That's...huh. Don't see that every day.

>>5279500
Guess we got 86'd

While others were betting coin and favors, you were betting something far more visceral. You weren't sure what it was yet, but the longer the squabble went on, the more personally offended you were becoming at the idea of losing to a horse. After several humiliating exchanges, Lily had opted to become involved of her own volition and slingshot the surprised nightmare clean out of the stable... A victory, but not one you counted.

The same could not be said for the colt, who evidently took the surprise attack very personally if it squaring up on you in the open sunlight was any indication. The time it took you to assure Lily you could handle this on your own very nearly got you trampled into the stable floors, and your mind remained empty for the next several minutes save for the ever recurring mental scream that you needed to move. It was a command you heeded - desperately - but you weren't trained to fight people, much less semi-invisible horses going wild. Your own movements were just as wild, just as frantic and fevered, as you strained every muscle in your body to avoid catching a pair of hoofs in your chest. Again.

The first time had hurt. Both physically, and your pride. It was your own damn fault, because genius that you were, you thought you were safe. You thought you'd moved far enough. You thought it couldn't stop that quickly or kick from that angle.

The only thought you had after having your breath driven from your forcibly compressed chest was that you couldn't remember ever doing a flip before.

Thinking went out the window after that. You'd just been swatting at it up until then, but feeling the ache in your chest actually made you angrier. It wanted to play? Fine! You'll play. You were going to climb atop the damn thing and ride it into the ground.

You succeeded too; gave the spitefully smug beast the slip and grabbed hold of its smoking mane to half-drag yourself up over its haunches. The smile born from wrapping your legs around its back certainly wasn't something born of joy. Grasping onto it bareback, with your thighs clenching around its heaving, boney frame, the catharsis from demeaning the thing into being your mount was intoxicating.

Probably why you weren't prepared for it to buck you into the door frame.

Lily continued to coo curiously at you, utterly mystified at what you were trying to accomplish... And increasingly resentful that you were getting to play and she was not. She was a well behaved child though, and contrary to her grumblings she didn't try to get involved again.

Had she done so, you're really not sure if the next half hour or so would have gone any better or not. It didn't go well, but could it have gone better? ...Eh.

Moments of victories racked up quickly once you really put your mind to it. The time you spent desperately trying to avoid it lessened, and the time spent trying to mount, remount, or remain mounted increased. Every time the bastard aimed to smash you against a wall or peel you off against an overhanging beam and failed was as sweet as nectar... But those moments dried up all too soon. You weren't even sure why at first, but the answer was as frustrating as it was simple: You were exhausted.

You were quietly kind of proud of how much better you'd gotten over the past year. It wasn't anything to brag about, and no one you could tell it to in the first place would have been impressed, but you keenly remember how hard just trekking around the woods had been for you when the rite started. The stamina and general familiarity you'd gained with your fight or flight instincts since then put you on a whole other level from the homebody you used to be.

Personal victories, however, were not helping you win a stamina battle with a horse; You might have had the capability to compete on par with it for a little while, but, Wisp help you, you did not have the capacity to keep it up.

You needed an exit plan, and not one that hinged on catching an express escape via hoof. While you'd quickly started to flag, struggling to catch your breath between haggard dives and dodges, the colt seemed fine...? Or maybe better than fine. It might have actually gotten more energetic as time went on. If that was the case, you needed to end this now, before you got any slower and made a serious mistake.

The window you got knocked out of last time was one way out. You could weave your way towards it and make a break to dive through it after one last juke. It'd be a repeat performance, getting Lily to help slam and seal the stable doors before it could react... But if you were going to involve Lily after all this, you could just as well have her help humiliate the damn thing by tying it down before you left. You weren't so sure it would stay tied down, but you could at least try to tangle it up and walk out on your own terms as one final insult.

...But if you really wanted to put this bastard in its place, you couldn't just change your mind this late in the game and ask Lily for help. You'd have to figure someway to get out and shut the doors before it could rush you.

Further thoughts on that came to an abrupt end when you forced yourself to leap out of the way just before the nightmare's sharp teeth could snap shut around your shoulder as it trot past.

>Out the window, you've done it once already.
>Tangle it up! No such thing as a cheap victory.
>You've got to wrap this up yourself, but how?
>Other? (write-in)

fuck!! what to do? more meditation sheeit?
what if we feinted to try mount it again, except we dashed back and closed the door instead. but even I don't think that will work.

>>5280230
>You've got to wrap this up yourself, but how?
Try to contact the colt with the bracelet? It's manaborn, so maybe it has some contactable mana inside?

>>5280230
>Out the window, you've done it once already.

>>5280230
>Out the window, you've done it once already.

Be ready to draw blood I guess, can't hold back the claws when we're pushed up against the wall like this.

>>5280230
>Out the window, you've done it once already.
Let's be honest here, it's won. Trying to squeak out and keep our dignity intact would be difficult if we were in good shape, nevermind our actual state. Frankly, I'm tempted to let it kick us back out again, and take that as our exit; if we pull a fast one I'm afraid it'll be annoyed enough to pursue.

We should try and close the doors before taking the emergency exit if we can to keep it from escaping though.

Can our spectators see the window from their position? If we go in and don't seem to come out, there may be some panic.

>>5280503
We not in danger as far as I can tell, so doing the equivalent of pulling a knife during a bar fight seems premature. We are going to have a lot of bruises and be in a lot of pain once the adrenaline fades though.

>>5280230
>Out the window, you've done it once already.


>>5280656
>be in a lot of pain
Considering we still can't feel our wrist I don't think that's going to be an issue

>>5280656
What do you think is going to happen if we become incapacitated in a room with starving carnivore? Lily will help us, sure but we're still in danger.

Have a doctor's appointment today and will probably be exhausted by the time I'm back, so update probably tomorrow - unless I heroically pull myself together and manage it tonight.

>>5280415
>>5280503
>>5280656
>>5280709
Okay, out the window!

>>5280397
Bracelet?

alright, writing!

Breaths came hard and uneven; felt like you couldn't take one deep enough, and part of you wondered if the bastard was waiting for you to try before interrupting. You cut a withering glare towards your surroundings, following the clopping of hooves as it circled around you. They were slower than they used to be, but you were certain of it now: It hadn't grown tired. It was taunting you. Slowing down just to savor the hunt.

...Alright. No room for complex plans then, you just needed to get out. If it was confident enough to look down on you like this, then you didn't need Lily to do that much. You took a half-step back and ground the grit along the floor beneath your boot.

Its next charge pushed you towards the open doors, and with each stumbled evasion you managed, the closer you got. Under other circumstances that would have been what you wanted, but cornering you towards the stable entrances meant the colt itself was just as close to the exit. You tried forcing your way further in, but each ingress you made was met with rapid correction.

You were realizing a little late that the nightmare colt had its own plans. Probably to be expected from a nightmare, but annoying all the same. You offered the bastard a few choice insults in your mind, seeing as the breath you'd need to actually hurl them at the creature was a scarce commodity at the moment, and re-evaluated your situation.

Tired, hunted, and being herded towards an exit that would let the colt escape as well. It could leave whenever it wanted, but it hadn't. Why?-

The sudden echo of hooves preceded its next offense, which saw you lifted and tossed some feet back with your stance just barely unbroken.

-You'll worry about it later. Didn't have the time right now. Problem was, it was only going to be a matter of time before its plans came to fruition, and you were losing ground.

Perhaps sensing that frustration, the thing snorted. You weren't sure how much of the smugness in that act was just projection, but Shade take it all the same.

Fine! Fine. Who needs plans? Your plan? Fuck your plan. Ruining its plan? May not know what it was up to, but every step further back into the stables you managed undid just that much more of its work and, Mana as your witness, you knew how to spite something.

When it came trotting up to you next, you braced yourself to be shoved around... Then made a break past its flank to sprint as fast as your weary legs would take you into the dark. You knew you'd gotten a reaction without needing to see it, just from the racket it made trying to turn about and gallop back. You hadn't msde it far before the colt caught up though, couldn't make it far, because the last position you wanted to be in was trying to run in a straight line from a mana damned horse.

Still, being run down like a dog had never felt quite so satisfying.

You ducked its next pass, catching its hind-thigh as it galloped past and sent you hobbling on one off balance leg before you caught yourself and dragged this miserable game of cat and mouse even further back. A few feet here, a couple tangential staggers there... Your chest heaved for air in this musty, suffocating place and you clutched your knees just to try and stay upright. For the strain it cost you, the distance you'd won back was pitiful... And you wasted what little opportunity you had to catch your breath just to snort at the bastard's irritable stamping as he circled.

"Hahaha..." Oh, laughing hurt. Pissing it off was worth the pain though, so you forced out a few more just on principle. "...Ha-Ohshi-"

It was the same evasion you'd made till now, maybe slower. Probably slower. Definitely slower. Not just because you were tired, but you'd been out of breath and too distracted gloating. You'd lost maybe a second, maybe a split second, of time reacting and the damn thing had chosen that pass to get rougher. What should have been a glancing blow caught you hard in the ribs, and in that fleeting, airborne second you had two thoughts.

The first was that it had been going easy on you as part of its little game, apparently.

The second, somewhere between the gasping wheeze it forced out of you as your ass hit the ground and skid your back against the straw strewn floor, was that it must have hated you laughing at it.

You rolled to your knees as quickly as you could, forcing yourself through the unpleasant if increasingly familiar process of manually restarting your breathing after having all the air driven from you, and scrambled to get back to your feet. Once it caught you on the floor it was over- But it knew that, and before you could manage a recovery it had already born down on your back.

Instinct took hold and you abandoned hope of standing up altogether, throwing yourself from all-fours to one side and splaying your finger tips to catch the floor as you tumbled. Your Shade-scar claws gouged a trail of violent rivets where you slid, providing the friction needed to arrest momentum. You had a chance then, one you wouldn't get again, to drive every screaming muscle in your body into launching forward into an off-balance, desperate, sprinting lunge.

You caught the colt's flank just as it turned, driving your knee into its ribs while you scrambled half-folded over its back to find purchase on your newly regained mount. A circumstance you were none too confident in, and it was even less pleased about... But when it bucked you up, you finally managed to catch its smoking mane in the darkness and wrest your legs around it once more. Its hind leapt to try and dislodge involuntary passenger, but for every second you were worth you laid yourself flat against its back and clung on; Clung through its whinnying tantrums and violent upheavals. You wrapped its mane about your fingers until the tension burned, squeezing your thighs and calves flush to its boney flanks, and held on through sheer adrenaline.

There's no way to know how long that lasted. A couple seconds, or as many in minutes, all you knew were the blind instants where your body was aflame and you moved by touch to keep your hard-won victory... And then a flash of light, and like all the other victories before it, your body failed you - or your focus slipped - or any number of other reasons you may well never know the truth behind which left you sailing weightless through the air one more time before crashing unceremoniously into the ground.

Landing in a narrow shaft of light, you scrambled numbly to stand again. You stumbled, foot slipping even as you rose, and saw freedom ahead of you. That blessed window, so close, just a little more...

...But you hadn't managed a step before the nightmare was upon you, and its maw snapped shut as you ran. You heard it, and you heard it again, and again, and you didn't dare look back because the only thing to greet you would be teeth. You'd only just stretched out your hands to the stable window when your head snapped back and all sense of self preservation evaporated in a flash-point.

Its teeth closed around your hair, and you were rooted. It pulled back, and whatever success it felt crumbled when the heel of your boot arced through its jaw like a star carving through the night sky.

The next moment you remembered was seeing the green, sun-touched grass racing up to meet you as you fell from the window. Some distant, far more responsible part of your mind calling to Lily to slam the stable doors shut as you laid there blearily.

A vacant stare towards the clear blue sky was all you could manage, and gradually you became aware of just how hard you were breathing. How hard your heart was hammering. How you couldn't so much as feel your muscles. You barely even wanted to move.

...The stable doors shook roughly. Hard enough you could hear them tremble from where you laid. Once. Twice. The repeated strikes drawing bitter laughter from the depths of your gut, and the laughter bringing aching pain along with it. You rolled onto your side, curling into a ball to hold your stomach as you laughed, and that half-manic, half-pained fit renewed with each desperate attempt the colt made to break down the stable doors.

You kept laughing even after it gave up.

It'd be some time before it finally died down, giving you the wherewithal to pull yourself together again. When you did though, you had to look down at the tattered mess of your clothes and sigh. Blood splattered, now ripped, scraps torn with no rhyme nor reason where you'd narrowly avoided its taunting nips in the dark. Your dress was well beyond repair at this point, short of cutting off a length of it. Even then, it'd take some doing to make it presentable again.

May as well just replace it. Another dress, maybe. Something easy to move in, lighter weight. Durable enough for travel... Whichever the case, couldn't keep walking around in this. You'd change clothes first, then... Something. You hissed under your breath, easing your feet under you once more, and wrapped your dignity about you as you walked back to the estate.

"...Bet I could steal some pants from aunt Clara."

>Just replace your dress. There's probably some of yours around the estate somewhere.
>Take the opportunity to borrow some of your aunt's clothes. Pants are more practical for traveling, anyway.

Additionally...
>Other ideas for outfit change? (include what character development you think has led to this choice)
>Strange ideas will be ignored.

"...What was that about?"

Carla blurted out the first thing on her mind as she, and the rest of the knights, gathered around the windows. The betting pool had started strong, but the confrontation between the stable's occupant and their feyliege stretched out long enough to start making the whole affair uncomfortable. Even more so as said feyliege had started to visibly tire.

Not a word was spoken in the hall after both of them had disappeared back into the stable and out of sight, and that pregnant silence broke into varied murmurings once vines sprouted in front of the building. They wreathed the open doors, slamming them shut and sealing the colt and the blonde noble inside with tightly wound coils to bind the threshold - Which only proved more and more necessary as the occupants within tried to break their way out not moments later.

Concern turned to confusion once the blonde noble finally walked out from around the side of the stables, looking for all the world like they'd picked a fight with a grinder, and adjusted their hair idly while walking back towards the estate.

"How'd they get out?" Jenna muttered, glancing past the retreating noble to study the building. "Back door? Window?"

"Doesn't matter, who won?" Barret wasted no time zeroing in on what was important. "Cuz' it's looking like Ser Valen won, just saying."

"Oh fuck you, look at 'em." Carla gestured bluntly towards Irue, "That horse thrashed the little feyliege."

"Yeah but it's the horse that's all locked up still. That's a win." Barret insisted, turning to the others to try and garner support. "Right? Last one standing. Hey, hey you get me, right Miska? ...Miska?" He swiveled in place, frowning as he looked around for a missing face. "Oi, when'd Miska leave?"

"Probably around the time she realized she'd lost ten gold." Carla snarked.

Arguments resumed, but the knights had already begun to disperse. The distraction had taken up far more time than they'd expected, and their next training session was rapidly approaching.

>There's some free time here for Irue.
>Due to previous choices, you cannot opt to weave, take part in artemis hunting, speak to Tanya, or do anything related to interrogation and/or your uncle. All of those have either been taken care of or previously delegated.
>Some events will occur regardless of write-in

>>5283931
>>Just replace your dress. There's probably some of yours around the estate somewhere.
we mixed up as a dude often enough even when wearing a dress.

>>5283934
>and you didn't dare look back because the only thing to greet you would be teeth.
This was amusing, but I don't think we should repeat it; that thing is dangerous and malicious. Next time we might not get away so cleanly.

>"Oh fuck you, look at 'em." Carla gestured bluntly towards Irue, "That horse thrashed the little feyliege."
Agreed. You don't count "successful retreat" as a "win".

>"Yeah but it's the horse that's all locked up still. That's a win."
The horse wouldn't have been in danger of leaving the stables if we hadn't opened them up in the first place. I don't think that counts for much.


>?
Did we ever get the knight training up and running? Maybe go see how they're doing.

>>5283931
>Take the opportunity to borrow some of your aunt's clothes. Pants are more practical for traveling, anyway.

>?
Get to work on our shade scar

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>>5283931
>Take the opportunity to borrow some of your aunt's clothes. Pants are more practical for traveling, anyway.
>Other ideas for outfit change? (include what character development you think has led to this choice)
Besides outfit changes always being neat, this is an opportunity to properly shift into the appearance of our new place as head of the household. What with both aunt and uncle now being changed into roughly cubed steak. Though I'd advise against dressing exactly like Clara unless the first thing we do when we get to Caylen is bend him over a knee and spank him.
To that end, I'd probably want to look for a cloak or coat or something properly marking us as an authority figure, or some similar outward status symbol. I'm not exactly sure of what to go for, exactly- the weight of any armor probably isn't something Irue would take well.
>>5283995
Well if you'd rather make things certain one way or the other- https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u5A55eWbiBI
>Strange ideas will be ignored.
Or perhaps not. Really though these things can be readily solved by sufficient padding if it's a concern.

>>5283934
>There's some free time here for Irue.
Drop in on that training session. I very much doubt Irue would gain anything from it besides more bruising, but it'd be a good opportunity to see how well the knights are taking to it. A practical demonstration of their development and current level, before we inevitably send them to get massacred and finish the job we started so long ago.

As a side note, how much is ten gold to somebody like Miska? Presuming that the value of the coinage is in the metal and not a guarantee of value from the kingdom or whomever minted the money, considering the shaky status of the government...

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>>5283934
Personally I'd call this a wash, it would appear that the colt had the same goal as Irue, and both of them remain unbroken. As far as the betting pool goes though, we took more of a beating than the horse so I guess Carla might have a point. Unless we order them to consider it a draw.

>Replace your dress.
>Take the opportunity to borrow some pants.
Get one of those long dress coats, wear pants underneath.

>(include what character development you think has led to this choice)
Irue is cool now, therefore she should wear a dress coat.

>There's some free time here for Irue.
>Check in with our knights, get their thoughts on how things are going.
>Get the instructors thoughts too.
>Ask Miska's instructor how she's doing. Do not be overheard.

If we still have free time after that,
>Meditate to shade, investigate the scar and attempt to control it.

>>5284257
>Get to work on our shade scar
Don't want to lose our nifty claws though. Maybe if we keep putting it off we'll get more Shade powers?

>>5284595
Somehow I feel like this is inadvisable without the counsel of a Shade adept.

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>>5284510
>how much is ten gold...
oh boy... Alright, you can skip to the tl;dr for a short answer, otherwise, here we go.

So I've generally made an effort to keep things like economics out of the spotlight, because when it comes down to hard numbers of supply, demand and inflation, I'm just not knowledgeable enough to make anything close to immersive quality. I've got lore and worldbuilding that provides context for estimates, but the closer we zoom in, the more I shrug.

Even gold as a point of currency is a bit curious in setting because Gnome adepts can relatively easily locate mineral veins, right? This was one of the major reasons you wanted one on hand for your expedition to the north in search of your own source of iron. Well if we take that to mean any nation with the cooperation of Gnome could just excavate gold at rapid speeds and quantities then the value of gold drops quite a bit, right? That's strange on its own. But there is an in-setting precedent that minerals tend to most commonly and abundantly occur closer to Gnome's influence, which is to say, further south around the Teranford/Ephlesia area. Teranford uses an abundance of metallurgy compared to the other nations precisely because of this, and their natural affinity for Salamander providing the necessary flamework. This means that economically, Teranford would have been quite wealthy through sheer natural resources, before even touching on their ocean-facing nation status allowing for port to port trade with East Heaven and Ephlesia, as well as seafood and salts. Conversely, minerals are somewhat rare in La'Fiel - Rare enough that there's a cultural precedent which designates swords as being tools of luxury or status because the iron necessary to forge them compared to, say, spears or bows, is exhorbitantly priced due to lack of supply (and this has only increased after Teranford's fall, as they served as the primary exporter of such minerals).

Gold as a unit of currency would then make more sense in La'fiel as a legacy policy inherited from East Heaven, where the people who originally founded the country were in large part merchants and some disenfranchised individuals from the already established kingdom which occupies a somewhat vague powerhouse category, but given La'Fiel's general lack of said minerals, the only way they would be able to sustain such a unit of currency would have been to leverage significant trade efforts in order to import it from elsewhere, meaning their economy's health would be dependent on the continued health and willingness to trade of East Heaven (locked down) and Teranford (fallen). The moment they were cut off from that, the accessibility of new gold flowing into the nation would become stringent.

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>>5284510
>>5284607
At this point the economy would be crashing even if the royalty weren't staging a powergrab against the nobility and disrupting internal trade access. It would be prime time for the nation to begin trying to force a new currency forward less reliant on gold/minerals, or alternatively, minting the same visual coinage with less and less gold purity, eventually introducing other mineral (or non-mineral) denominations. A whole quest could be run purely on being a merchant trying to navigate La'Fiel's economic landscape during all of this, and I'd probably adore it Spice & Wolf Quest! Let's go! but I do not trust myself to have the knowledge to run it consistently, or to any form of satisfaction.

So with the context for the national economy in place, we can return to the original question of how much is ten gold worth, and the answer is that, due to a lack of supply (Teranford/East Heaven), and a surge in demand (nobility and royalty both readying for war), the economy is undergoing a severe deflation, which means pure gold coins will dwindle in circulation and consequently their value will rise significantly. The royalty and/or individual territories may be in the process of trying to arrest this economic freefall by changing over currencies, but gold is, and always be, universally accepted.

TL;DR
a piece of gold could probably be likened to between ~50-75 USD. It used to be worth quite a bit less and in the future it will be worth quite a bit more. For your knights, their pay is a matter of schrodinger's money, Most of their day to day needs are taken care of, but they don't really receive money, because up until recently, Irue's only source of money was the mayor's stash you secured back in the first arc... And that went mostly towards Carona.

As a result, what they're betting is most likely just the remnants of whatever savings they had managed to scrounge together and carry with them after being driven from their homes. How much each of them has will vary, but it's unlikely any of your knights have more than ~30-40 gold on them. The average is probably much closer to... Well, somewhere around ten. It'd run out in a month or two if they had to take care of their own needs.

>>5284598
I think any counsel offered by a shade adept would be inadvisable by default.

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>>5284510
>>5284610
As a final amusing note of trivia, due to the economic circumstances, some of your knights have technically become richer after fleeing their homes with only their life's savings than they were when they were actually making a regular income. It's genuinely questionable as to whether your knights are even aware of how the economy they're operating in has changed, and subsequently, what the actual value of the money they're carrying is worth. They've been outside the system for quite a while, and so are operating on outdated value estimates.

>>5284607
>>5284610
>>5284616
Nerd.
Hey Miska's single relationship status is now also her wallet status

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>>5284612

>>5283995
dress!

>>5284257
>>5284590
Pants!

>>5284510
cloak, coat, something authoritative....

>>5284590
dress coat thing!
---

>>5284017
>>5284510
>>5284590
Check on our knights!

>>5284257
>>5284590
>>5284595
Self reflection!

seems we are fairly uniform in our desires. Writing!

>i got lost in the woods and missed thr vote
>the dress votr, my most anticipated one
Damn you, nature...

>>5284969
What would you have voted for?

>>5285020
Not sure I was gonna do sum thinking. Maybe would have supported ur idea king

Kara would have carried you.

It was an idle thought you had, shuffling through the halls in your ruined clothes. You were tired, and with the adrenaline high wearing off you were starting to realize just how hard you had pushed yourself. It was nostalgic, in a way. This kind of feeling was something you felt almost every night back when the Rite began, but it had been a while since you'd pushed yourself like today. You let yourself be so focused on moving your body that the rest of your thoughts and worries just... Slipped away. Temporarily, at least.

The way you were shuffling along now, you could still get around on your own. It wasn't a desperate, crippled hobble. You just moved slowly, lifted your legs as little as possible, and took smaller steps. Shorter strides. Longer strides would make your muscles hurt more, and if you were careless your knees might give out for a second or two; a little embarrassing, but nothing to worry over. You were fine. Just a little tired.

...And Kara would have carried you.

It would have been much more embarrassing than just losing your balance, to be seen piggy backing on the taller demihuman through the halls. You had an image to keep. Silly things like that wouldn't help cultivate the sort of respect you felt a leader needed. Even worse if she'd just scooped you up and princess carried you. Or, Mana forbid, slung you over her shoulder like a sack of potatoes! It would have been mortifying.

a wry smile found itself across your lips and you shuffled along, letting your idle thoughts take their course. The hallway felt just a little quieter as you went. It was that silence which baited out your reminiscience more than anything; the warm nostalgia of how far you've come inevitably washing up other, less inspiring memories. The constant chatter you'd have with Asche, the shouting matches you'd always end up in with Rinnier, the frantic uncertainty over how to handle Ari, and how Kara always brought a certain chaotic sort of energy with her where ever she went.

You don't think Kara ever really respected you as a leader, in retrospect. Or maybe she just never really saw you as one. For as much as the demihuman liked to let others do the thinking for her, she never really fit well as a subordinate. Too independent, too irreverent, too willing to just disregard her task in favor of whatever she felt at the time. She'd have laughed from the side of the stables while you got into a fight with a horse and given you a dumb little thumbs up after bailing out the window and laying there exhausted.

The night you rooted Artemis out of Carona she'd come to you, at the climax of all your efforts, painted in blood, hurt and desperate. She wanted your help. She didn't know what to do, or what could be done, and when she was that vulnerable, she turned to you without hesitation. She trusted you, not as a leader, but something else... And you laid down everything to meet that faith.

Rinnier had been disappointed, you know, but she understood. She'd said as much; it was just the way you were. You can't imagine what you gave up that night to be there for Kara when she needed you, nor whether you being there made a difference for her in the end... It certainly didn't feel like it did. You'd rarely felt as helpless as you did trying to care for her that night. But, even still... Remembering her boisterous smile, all tooth and fang, the choice you made wasn't a mistake.

Kara would have carried you, embarrassed you in public to do it, because you were tired and she cared. She wasn't here now, and you were constantly just a little too much silence away from being reminded of that.

It took you years to get over losing your family when you were younger. Years spent drowning in depression, then bottling it up and repressing it for all you were worth. Distracting yourself so you didn't have to deal with it, and never letting yourself think about the people you'd lost. The time you spent with them. All until enough time had passed that you weren't so raw, that you could afford to gingerly begin remembering your sister without feeling the pain of her loss so horribly. Even now, you kept a cautious distance to those memories.

For a long time, you thought that was what getting over it meant. That was simply how trauma and loss worked. It was always going to hurt, and you just had to handle it carefully.

Grief, you've learned, is a process.

You're allowed to hurt remembering something. The more you loved or cared for something, of course the more it hurt to acknowledge it was gone... But you still feel just as strongly about it as you ever did. Those feelings didn't change, they just became more complicated.

You were starting to understand how to remember the warmth with the loss.

Maybe it was time you re-examined yourself.

"Ser Valen?"

A familiar voice finally scattered your thoughts, and you turned to find Miska pensively inspecting you. She held herself stiffly, posture straight, though lacking the animated energy she used to have. Her irreverent optimism died with Fen, and it was a topic you had no idea how to broach... And increasingly doubted you had any right or reason to do so. "Miska?"

"Are you..." Her words did not fumble, so much as wilted. Drying on the tip of her tongue. "I saw what happened at the stables." She finally concluded, leaving the neutral observation to sink between you.

"Ah." You grunt some form of acknowledgement, unsure how to feel about that. "And?"

"You looked hurt, so I came to check on you."

"Oh." She wasn't going to ask why you picked a fight with a horse? You had to wonder if anyone else had seen it, but were mildly afraid to ask. There were no answers to that question that would make you feel better. You performed a slow wave with your arm, "I'm fine. Tired, mostly, but all it really did was mess up my clothes. I was due for a change in outfit anyway."

Miska's gaze lingered heavily over your torn apparel. It took you a while to realize she was looking at the blood splattered across it. You patted it absently, shaking your head. "This isn't mine, don't worry. I didn't get hurt."

"Someone else's?" She wondered. You gave her a nod, and were thankful when she chose not to pursue its origin any further. Her heels clicked together in a salute - This one you dimly recognize as one Alouette's men often gave to her. "My apologies for interrupting you."

"No, it's fine. You weren't interrupting anything." You assure her with a shake of your head, "How are-" You? "-the knights?"

"I'm told they're managing."

"Managing?"

"The training is difficult." Her explanation provided little in way of... explanation. She didn't act like the topic even concerned her. "The instructors would know more. The next training sessions will begin very soon."

...You had considered dropping in on them after getting redressed. It would be better to see for yourself how your knights were handling themselves after the couple days you'd been here. Speak to their instructors like Miska suggested to get more first-hand insight into how things were going. "I've got time, I'll talk to them later."

Miska's salute held, but she didn't reply. After a second she came to a decision. "I wanted to thank you for giving us the opportunity to learn like this."

>Order Miska to accompany you while you figure out new clothes. You could do with some company.
>Dismiss her, her training is set to start soon and you've taken up enough of her time.
>Give her a gift (what?)
>Other? (write-in)

>>5285050
>Order Miska to accompany you while you figure out new clothes. You could do with some company.
I can't think of a suitable gift.

>>5285050
>Order Miska to accompany you while you figure out new clothes. You could do with some company.
>Give her a gift (what?)
Let her pick out some clothing? We have a lot of stuff here I guess but Irue would know more about that than us.

>Introduce her to Lily

>>5285050
>Other?
Talk about why she wants to learn like this.

Riz how injured does Irue look right now?

>>5285050
Is she holding the salute until we give her leave to drop it?

>At ease

>>5285165
Your clothes are bit, torn, shredded, dirty, and stained in blood. Irue? No open wounds. Not even a scratch. No visible bruising. You just look worn out and distracted.

>>5285376
Wtf, why?

>>5284951

>>5284595
>Self reflection!
psst, that's not a vote, that's a quote referencing the quoted comment. Suppose I should have made that more clear.
>>5285050
>Reply with something to the effect of "you all being better trained is good for everyone".
This is to cover responding to that last line. I'm aiming for reassurance and an expression of mutual benefit.

>Ask Miska to accompany you while you figure out new clothes. You could do with some company.
Maybe she can minimize the impending fashion disaster.
Not sure why the default options have us ordering her around though. Something about returning formality with formality?

We don't have anything gift-like to offer her I'm aware of, and a gift out of the blue would be odd anyway.

>>5285376
That's... odd. We should be black and blue at the very least.
But gift horses and all.

>>5285943
This is a good point, I'd rather ask her than order her.

will be updating later tonight!

>>5285943
>>5286129
>asking vs ordering
Noted!

>>5285422
>>5285943
You've never really had marks left on you. You've been impaled twice, burned, beaten and broken several times, but you don't have any scars or blemishes. It's debatable as to whether you've even had bruises, anon. it's been this way since thread one! Anons also made a choice some time ago, and you have been slowly growing into the consequences since.

>>5285050
Oh, aside from something from the family wardrobe we could also offer to tutor her in meditation. That could count as a gift, if she appreciates opportunities.

>>5286783
>but you don't have any scars or blemishes.
Then what's the deal with our wrist? Apparently we had weird healing before and after breaking it, but that injury alone has lingered painlessly.

>>5286867
Not a bad option in theory, but we are perpetually short on time already. Adding more things to that perpetual todo list might not be the best idea.

>>5288158

My assumption is that it was staying broken due to mana interference.

Not 100% on this, but I think that we've been absolutely soaked in Dryad mana since time immemorial (Quite literally, considering how much of it we were drinking). Being dyed in that for years has to have some effects.

When we're damaged, everything puts itself right back where it's supposed to because that's what an Irue is supposed to be shaped like. We probably weren't immortal, more like timeless. (This may have changed/exacerbated after we literally came back from the dead)

So we've got an arm that's aggressively colored with Shade, and the Dryad in us can't put it to right because the other mana is in the way. We need to eliminate it, harmonize them in some way, or accept the effects as permanent (and potentially progressing)

>>5288178
>So we've got an arm that's aggressively colored with Shade, and the Dryad in us can't put it to right because the other mana is in the way.
Assuming the rest of your theory is right, there wasn't anything Shade-based going on with our arm or the source of the injury. Why would Shade have been interfering with it?

>We need to eliminate it, harmonize them in some way, or accept the effects as permanent (and potentially progressing)
I'm game it accept it, the claws are impressive and make us maybe 2% more combat effective.

>>5288178
I think we got that injury much earlier than the Shade claws

>>5288848

That's the reason I was discussing progression. We have a timeline of our complicated history with Shade, but it's not necessarily complete. If my theory is correct, its origins could literally have spawned at any time after Irue stopped partying hearty with Faedka.

Hell, with the broadest possible strokes, we've been a prime candidate to have a Shade affinity for ages, we just also passively rebuffed the affections any active Mana.

"The more you all learn, the better it'll be for all of us." You muse, "I was fortunate you all had such diverse skillsets in the first place, or Carona could have been handled much worse."

"Maybe." Miska's eyes shifted away.

You frowned slightly, feeling the conversation hovering perilously close to delicate topics. "What about you, though?"

"Me?" Miska looked back at you, tilting her head curiously.

"You. Why are you interested in learning like this?" Left unsaid was how she'd never struck you as a fighter, per se. Boisterous, enthusiastic to a fault, but this was different. Someone who would fight wasn't necessary someone who wanted to.

"My best wasn't good enough." She answered flatly. The clipped, bitter sentiment lacing her voice was one you were bitterly familiar with, and had felt yourself more than once. Fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately, the furtive silence born from her response stretched long enough for her to proffer a non-sequitor. "Are you aware some of the other knights have started idolizing you?"

"No?" You're forced to blink at the sudden change in topic. "Occasionally I catch wind of new rumours, and Dullem-" Dullem kept you appraised of their uncertainties regarding you, but that was more of a root problem than whatever strange symptom it might go on to spawn. Like being made an idol, apparently. "...Dullem doesn't report things like that often. Why?"

"It's easy to believe you can do anything." The girl mustered an empty smirk, just barely teasing the expression before it faded. "You made an amazing first impression, swooped in and changed everything, and then you just kept doing things. After what we'd all gone through, having someone like that to follow was inspiring. The more outrageous things you did, the easier it was to pump our fists and go 'Yeah, that's our feyliege!'."

Her fingers curled together at her side, flexing her arm in faux-triumphant as she spoke. "Didn't matter what we could or couldn't do, if we trusted you, you could make it work somehow." she opened her hand thoughtfully, closing and opening her fist testingly. "Stupid, isn't it?"

You stayed silent, unsure how to answer. In the first place, you doubted you were the one she was asking.

"There are going to be times when you're not there. When those times come, we need to be stronger. We need to be better. So that when things like Carona happen again, we aren't left praying you'll be there."

Did she blame you?

It was hard not to wonder if, to some extent, she held you responsible for Fen's death. There was plenty of that blame to go around, if you thought about it: You, for not being there. Artemis, for instigating it all. The people of Carona for being the ones to do it... You'd understand any of them being the ones to bear resentment over losing her fiance, but what writhed in your gut was the recognition that she had settled on blaming herself most of all.

You knew those thoughts. The feelings they stirred. The way it could drive someone.

Her grief had to find an outlet somewhere, and any of those options were just as healthy or unhealthy as the others... It was just the uncomfortable feeling of seeing yourself in her that made you so want to reach out, to say something. You drew a breath, knowing there wasn't an answer. The blurry line between associate and subordinate only served to further complicate the matter.

"Miska..." You hesitated, "How about following me for a bit? I need to change out of these rags, and we can talk more in private."

She hesitated in turn, considering something carefully before answering. "Is that an order?"

"No, just a request."

"Then uh... I'll have to take you up on it another time, Ser Valen. My next training session starts shortly, and I should be going now."

"Ah." Well, you weren't going to force it. "Some other time, then. I won't hold you up any longer."

Miska nodded, excusing herself in an unhurried manner before leaving you alone once again. You'd had a vague idea what you'd spend your time on after changing, but meeting with Miska had settled your decision to check in on the rest of your knights. You shook your head after she left, turning your attention back to the matter of your ragged clothes and made a snap decision.

You were raiding your aunt's closet.

Your aunt was an imposing woman. You had some vague idea that she was formidable, if only because you knew Alouette and Clara had been regular sparring partners, but where that actually put her in terms of skill was beyond you. Since she wasn't an adept it almost assuredly ranked her lower in threat than Alouette, but that wasn't a fair evaluation at all; You weren't sure of anything higher in direct threat than Alouette save for Dryad. Probably.

...Probably.

Setting aside those unsettling thoughts, you threw open the doors to your aunt's wardrobe and took in the hall of formal wear hidden within. It was a lengthy isle, stuffed on either side with... Mostly things you couldn't recall your aunt ever wearing. Dresses, shawls, an assortment of hats and gloves. You paused in front of a particularly shiny dress, left to adorn a mannequin's torso, and ran your fingertips along its surface in idle wonder; It felt similar to silk, but the fabric shifted curiously under pressure in the wake of your touch. A card pinned to the mannequin's neck claimed it was made from basilisk scales.

A half-mask further in was almost laughably garrish to look at it, piled to the brim with brilliant, fluffy plumage that occupied a space several times larger than the mask itself. Elsewhere, a set of opera gloves were studded with rows of refractive crystals, shimmering under the wardrobe lights. Those, you noted with some confusion, had a couple of said studs around the knuckles conspicuously missing - And signs of blood stains long dried into its surface.

You could spend some time in here just looking at all the strange specimens that had somehow made its way into your aunt's closet... You definitely weren't wearing any of this stuff, and it wasn't at all what you were looking for in the first place. You shut the doors to that particular fashion realm and opted instead to begin rooting through her drawers for something useful instead.

Blouses, tunics, a few more dresses - some you actually recall her wearing! Your eyes shifted back and forth between the drawer contents as you one-handedly checked through them, dismissing one thing or another as not being what you were after... Before lighting up when you finally stumbled across some pants! They were... Loose? Very loose, particularly around the hips but a belt could fix that. No, they were loose around the legs, and you had to guess that was by design. These weren't the sort of form-fitting pants your aunt had typically worn when riding Ser Stomperson. They were comfortable enough, but you doubted their ability to fare through woods and caves very long.

...Tossing them aside, you leaned against the cabinet and blew a stray strand of hair out of your eyes. Were riding clothes a thing? Like, a special specific thing all its own? You guess it made sense, it wasn't quite armor, but it had been made to survive a very particular activity.

Looking at the bit and torn rags of your current ensemble, the desire to steal something which could survive your own escapades increased quite markedly. The problem, then, was where would she have stored it...?

You sighed, pushing off the furniture to leave the room. Lily was more than happy to help you locate the nearest person... Which turned out to be a guard, who was utterly incapable of answering your questions. The second person however was part of the house's serving staff, and they... Also could not answer your questions, but they directed you to someone who could answer your questions, and it was in this way that you finally wound your way towards the high-ceilinged, mostly empty room your aunt had commissioned for personal use.

Stored away in a glass-paned cabinet were several sets of clothes you recognized on sight as your aunt's. The clothes she'd worn while riding, the ones she'd worn while sparring. Having the opportunity now to actually handle the clothes in question, you were surprised at how heavy it all was; It reminded you of how uncomfortable you'd been making the transition from slippers to boots. For weeks it felt like you had been hauling weights around on your feet when you walked, but the change had promised less sore feet when exploring, so you'd suffered through it. You'd honestly not given it much thought beyond that, but... It was basically the same thing, wasn't it? More resilient shoes meant heavier shoes. More resilient clothes meant heavier clothes.

Trying on a pair padded with black leather along the inner thigh and calves, you amended that they were also much less comfortable. And they were still loose around the hips. Still... The fabric on these things was tough enough you could probably slide down a cliff and not come out any worse for wear.

Necessary sacrifices.

You tried one of the shirts on as well, but it wasn't going to cooperate no matter what you did with it. You were better off just filching one of the lighter weight blouses and just wearing a coat over it. She had an assortment of knee-length coats that could almost pass for formal wear back in her actual wardrobe.

You weren't looking forward to wearing one of those heavy coats around. Even winters in La'Fiel weren't terribly cold. You'd probably spend more time being hot than you would stumbling into another ice-themed Atelier.

More time than you would have liked was dedicated simply to hunting for clothes as you trekked back and forth across the house, trying to cobble together an outfit you wouldn't be too uncomfortable in that would still meet your vague desire to not lose chunks of fabric to wear and tear and the occasional tooth or claw. Laced boots you'd already grown accustomed to the weight of. Tightly fit pants, reinforced with strips of black leather to keep chafing to a minimum... And after much frustration dealing with the addition of a belt around your waist, you resigned yourself to simply having Lily weave her vines in one's place to keep them snug.

Caught between whether to try for an actual shirt or simply wear another dress, you opted for what you were relatively sure was one of Alouette's exercise shirts. Partially because it was light-weight enough to breathe in, but mostly because it also let you steal one of her cool coats.

Vitally, the coat had pockets. You weren't sure what you were going to put in those pockets, but now you had them. The coat itself otherwise had no insulation to it, and largely seemed to just function as an extra sheet of tough fabric between you and the world. It was heavy, but not so heavy you were miserable... And breezy enough when left unfastened that you wouldn't need to worry as much about the heat.

...You also accidentally created a shredded slit down one of its sleeves in the process of putting it on, so you decided that meant it belonged to you now!

With far too much time spent figuring out clothes than you expected, you weren't sure how much longer your knight's training sessions would be going on before they broke for the day and people started preparing for dinner. The estate wasn't small by any means, but the sudden crowd you'd brought on such short notice meant they'd been eating where they could find space rather than in a specific location for a while now.

The serving staff had been busy clearing out a social hall to be repurposed into a mess hall for the time being, but you hadn't kept up with the progress on that. If it was where you were thinking it was, that place was always locked up unless Byrn was trying to host a gala.

>Check in on your knights during training.
>Track down the knight groups that volunteered for special training.
>Wait a bit and drop in to eat with your knights instead.
>Other? (write-in)

>>5289596
>Wait a bit and drop in to eat with your knights instead.

File: FPWQY1UUcAAvzMI.jpg (197 KB, 1017x1433)

197 KB JPG

Oh yeah, the quest!

>>5289596
>Track down the knight groups that volunteered for special training.

I wanna see her in action.

>>5289587
>"My best wasn't good enough." She answered flatly. The clipped, bitter sentiment lacing her voice
Man, it's hard to see her like this. She used to be so much happier. More things we've screwed up.

>"Are you aware some of the other knights have started idolizing you?"
We shouldn't allow this to fester, I think. Too much potential for it to get out of control.

>'Yeah, that's our feyliege!'
Not that Miska cares anymore, but I thought that was an internal nickname, not one most knights would be willing to call us openly.

>Did she blame you?
Directly? Maybe not. Indirectly, I think so, yeah. We didn't do it, but our handling of that mess allowed it to happen.

ignoring our atrocious fashion sense...


>>5289596
>Check in on your knights during training.
It'll be good to see how they're coming along. And there's potential in reflecting on everything that's changed since we last watched our knights training on these grounds. In our situation, in them, and in us. Heck we could even pop down and try the weapon drills again, only this time after applying the secret technique of taking our bracelet off first.

>>5289596
>Wait a bit and drop in to eat with your knights instead.
now we are fitted out and ready to start dripping on these hoes

the training is almost over and they're probably too tired to do anything else, so other options seem out of season right now.

>>5289596
>Track down the knight groups that volunteered for special training.

>>5289596
>Track down the knight groups that volunteered for special training.
It's probably for the best that we identify the cream of our crop. Especially considering we basically recruited from dregs, which is sort of normal for conscription anyways but putting the best people in leadership positions will help the performance of the lot. Especially once we get more people.
I mean, we definitely need more cannon fodder if we're going to be taking this seriously. Enough blood to paint a city, enough meat to feed the engines of war, and enough fire to barbecue all that tasty meat.
Speaking of butchered meat, I can't recall, what does Clara look like? The eyes are obviously identical.

As a side note-
>Ask the knights present what they think of our new apparel.
While the wardrobe is still close and all that.

>>5289614
>>5289793
Eating!

>>5289616
>>5290000
>>5290254
Special training!

>>5289712
The sane people that did not volunteer for special training!

>>5290254
ask for wardrobe impressions!

Alright, will probably get writing tomorrow! Having to deal with some issues in the meantime.
---

>>5289712
> I thought that was an internal nickname
You've been called this to your face before. By Miska, even! Dullem did not approve of it, and most of your knights weren't brave enough to actually say anything about it to your face. It is something of an internal title though, more of a nickname they have for you than anything else.

dont ask what they think, asking about that stuff is below us

You didn't particularly feel the need to make a social visit with your knights. Not right now, anyway. There was endlessly something more to do to better establish your image and relationship with them, but today was just a check-up on how they were doing. To that end, you decided to pass on waiting for dinner; What you needed wasn't so much to see your knights, but their instructors. People who could give you an actual idea of how things were going.

That presented a brief problem in that you technically had two subgroups of knights: The ones who had requested specialized training, and the ones just here to learn the basics. You didn't really have expectations of them, since in the first place you had no idea what you could expect from this whole effort, so between the two of them you would be satisfied if the crash-course in combat training your knights received just made them more organized and familiar with the process... But if you were going to look in on them, you were admittedly more curious how the special training group was doing.

Finding them was a simple task. Even if you hadn't been involved in organizing their training, it only took a few cursory questions to the staff to learn where to go, and in a short order you were given a couple locations.

"Why are there so many?" You tried to keep a mental note of what one of the house guards was telling you.

He laughed, "I heard there were specific requests for their instructors, so the guys who volunteered decided they'd split their groups up on their own."

Your face scrunched up, some vague approximation of an expression being made. "Right, I remember now." Some of them had some peculiar requests for instructor criteria. You had to wonder what the reactions to seeing those requirements for the first time were among the guard staff. One of them had wanted a younger blonde for some reason, and that was just one of them of the odd ones you recalled off the top of your head. There weren't a whole lot of your knights who had asked for special training, and of the ones who had, relatively few of them had requests that overlapped to any significant degree... If there had been instructors found for everyone, that little group was receiving very attentive instruction.

And true to form, when you did find them, each group was no larger than three to five knights per instructor. You struggled to put names to faces you had only seen briefly, but some stuck out.

Barret in particular was part of a relatively large group of three, including himself, which you drew you to them first simply because of the constant screaming. Their instructor was a relaxed looking woman who bore an easy going smile with starry eyes who stood alongside her three erstwhile students, going through each step of the physical movements along with them.

At a glance it was similar to a dance, but there was a distinct sense of violence inherent in the way they moved which made its purpose clear. wide spread legs and bent knees saw their center of gravity kept low, with each arcing step thrusting their weight behind a strike or kick. From your knights those imitated assaults were an energetic display, but the fluffy haired instructor's silhouette cut a frighteningly precise performance. Each strike was accompanied by the audible snap of her sleeves whipping, and it was clear even to someone like you that when her leg lashed through the air it was towards some imagined target.

The woman breezily chirped some signal and they all moved in synch, followed by a chorus of wordless aggression out of your knights. Occasionally she seemed content to simply hold a position, thinking something over, while other times the pattern would repeat immediately - Or in rapid, unrelenting succession.

You held yourself back, just observing as the instructor held a statuesque pose with the blade of her foot arcing sharply just beneath her neck. Each of your three knights attempted the same, their weight shifting uncomfortably on their pedestaled leg as a motion meant for a moment stretched into seconds, which threatened to become minutes. The instructor's eyes closed, a peaceful smile resting patiently across her face as she simply seemed to relax there... Until one of the knights tilted too far and lost the delicate equilibrium.

All at once the remaining two's posture slackened, even as the one who stumbled cursed under his breath. The laid back woman serving as their instructor held her position for a moment longer, smile growing just a fraction, before she calmly withdrew her leg and set it back on the grass. "Positions, boys~" She clapped her hands together with a gentle purr, sending all three of them whimperingly to the ground to begin push-ups. She was preparing to join them for that as well when she noticed you watching and waved her palm invitingly. "Ser Valen! We weren't expecting you, it's good to see you!"

"I just wanted to see how things were going." You said, "What were you doing just now?"

"Just a little exercise." The instructor smiled, "It's good practice for building muscle memory. It's very relaxing!" Her smile was almost blinding in its purity, which almost made you miss the way your knights had taken your conversation with her as an excuse to just lay face down in the grass and rest. If the guard instructor noticed, she didn't seem inclined to turn her attention from you to acknowledge it. "Would you like to join us? I don't mind teaching one more~"

"...Another time, maybe. I'm already exhausted." You politely waved off the invitation as your sore muscles protested against the idea. "Is everyone learning like that?"

"Hmmm..." She brushed a tuft of her downy hair from her forehead, giving a sing-song answer. "Dunno~ We're all doing our own thing, I think."

"Really?" Leaving the organization of this up to Rinnier left you curious. "Is there at least a general curriculum?"

The instructor shook her head, "Miss Lamandra put together a list for anyone interested and if we fit the profile, we got to pick our groups! What we do with them after that was up to us~" She beamed warmly at the three ground-bound knights, kneeling onto the balls of her feet in front of Barret to run her hand through his sweat-slick hair with gentle, affectionate strokes, "These boys are mine~"

Well. She seemed nice enough. "What are your plans in training them?"

"Ooh~" She hummed a melodious tune, "I don't know yet. We've spent the last few days just getting to know each other?" Her head tilted to one side, cupping a cheek with her palm. "We'll see~ I always think better after working my body a while, so we'll think of something together."

You thanked her for her time, idly trying to remember what kind of instructor Barret had asked for as she gave you instructions to the nearest group from her. She bid you farewell and continued to stroke the hair of your collapsed knights affectionately.

"No one gave you permission to stop, boys~" You caught the tail end of her sweet humming as you left, "thirty more now, I'll do them with you!"

The blonde instructor you found was working with two young women, one you distinctly remember as Carla. Hers was the strangest request, if only because you didn't really understand what hair color had to do with learning - and asking for a blonde specifically had left you slightly self-conscious of your own hair and what hidden properties it could apparently inspire. Her instructor's was more of a straw-blonde though, significantly less golden than your own. And much shorter, as even in the midst of a workout, the sweat beading along his brow wasn't enough to drag it into his eyes.

His shirt had been discarded elsewhere in the twilight hours, leaving his lean body to almost glow from the warm, fading rays of sunlight cast across his skin. He moved carefully, guiding Carla's arm into position from behind - Adjusting the angle and height with which she held a small knife before firmly pulling it through a short arc by the wrist. "Try not to extend your arm to the point your elbow locks. The blade is your range, so stay comfortably within your space and let it make up the difference."

The man's instructions came out in a dulcet more smooth than deep, enunciated with a clear and calm purpose as he made sure the other woman mimicking Carla's position could hear as well. "Jen, do you have a feel for it?"

"I think so." The other - Jen, apparently - responded. With careful, deliberate motions she made a similar arc with her knife. "Like this?"

"Right, good. Good job, both of you." He stepped away from Carla and took up position in front of Jen's knife, placing his hands lightly against her wrist and elbow. "Maintaining your space is vital. The strength in a small arm like this is flexibility. You want to slash and stab, but never more than necessary. Avoid conflicts and aim for soft targets-" He manipulated Jen's arm to place the tip of the knife to his throat, then against to his arm, stomach, and thigh. "The head is a fine target if you can manage it. Even a shallow cut on the forehead will bleed profusely, and blood in your enemy's eyes makes other targets easier... But everyone will protect their face, so don't obsess over it. Be opportunistic. Work carefully, see what targets they give you, and then feel comfortable disabling them piece by piece."

"Alright." Jen nodded as he stepped away, making a couple more testing swings with the knife to test her range before she noticed you. "Oh, Ser Valen."

The instructor's head snapped up quickly, his posture stiffening not long after as he quickly pat down his sides and started scanning the ground for his shirt. "Ah, Ser Valen! I uh... I didn't expect you to- Welcome?"

"I'm just seeing how things are going." You wave off his nervousness, "I heard each of the instructors are doing their own thing. Knife work?"

"For now." The man agreed, seeming to slip more at ease with you. "I want to see how the ladies handle archery if we have time, but I thought getting them more familiar with a knife would be the most immediately helpful skillset."

"Knives and bows?" You arch a brow curiously.

"I heard they spend a lot of time in nature." He reasoned, "So the best thing to be familiar with for self-defense or offense should be items you'd already either have or want to have. Bows are excellent hunting tools and you need knives to clean and dress whatever you catch."

"Hmm..." You roll the idea around in your head. It felt familiar. Despite his comparative youth, he seemed a much more thoughtful teacher than the last one. "Anything else?"

"Else? Well..." He fumbled for a second, taken offguard by the additional question. "I want to cover some basic fletching, definitely. If we have time-" He scanned you for some sign you were approving of his lesson plan, but, almost tragically, all he could see was Lily's mask and your own idle curiosity. "Sneaking practice?"

"Sneaking?"

"Stealth. Stealth practice." He corrected quickly. "Like how to hide well, or minimize sound when moving quickly. That sort of thing."

"...Are these things all the guards here just know?" You have to ask, because when you thought of guards you certainly didn't think of some guy with a knife hiding in a bush. A thief, maybe. Or a hunter. Or some political intelligence agent- You think they did sneaky things.

"No, Ser Valen. Er, well, I can't answer that- It's something I know because my pa' was a hunter. I grew up on this stuff before coming to work here."

"...Your father was a hunter?"

"Yes, Ser Valen!"

"And he taught you how to use a knife and bow?"

"Yes!"

"He taught you how to use a knife like that?" You gesture skeptically towards your knights.

"Ye- no, I mean. He taught me how to use the knife, yes, but using it on people is something I learned from the captain."

That caught your attention, you leaned in with more interest almost immediately. "You learned from Alouette?"

"I had the opportunity to learn from her on a few occasions." He affirmed proudly, "She invited me to train with her unit on several occasions, it was very enlightening. The way she explained things made me feel stupid for not realizing them myself, so I'm hoping I can pass on at least a little of that, Ser Valen."

Your evaluation of this guy went up yet another notch or two. "Well, don't mind me then."

"Oh, you're no bother, Ser Valen. It's getting late anyway, so we were going to wrap it up soon for dinner." He assured you, scooping up his discarded shirt in the process to wipe the sweat from his face and chest.

You were pleased to note your knights kept a close watch on their instructor, nodding to him before addressing them. "You both seem like you're paying close attention to your instructor, so it probably doesn't need to be said, but soak up anything he has to teach you."

Carla grinned broadly. "Won't take my eyes off him, Ser Valen."

"They're both quick on the uptake, Ser Valen." The blonde guard added proudly, "They've kept up with everything I've asked of them, I'm honestly a little surprised. Some of the other instructors already had their some, or all, of their group shuffle back into the main training class."

Two groups, five people... You felt like the number was a bit low compared to what you remembered. Was that it? "How many instructors are left?"

"four, last I heard? Counting me, of course."

"And knights?"

"I... Couldn't say, sorry. Besides the ladies here, Mel's got three men still working with her unless anyone quit today. I haven't spoken to the other two instructors."

>Spend the rest of training time learning more about one of the two groups you found (which? and what do you want to know?)
>Try to catch the remaining two before training ends
>You've seen enough, better to retire.

>>5292018
>You've seen enough, better to retire.
Now this is show business

That girl is FUCKED

>>5292018

>Try to catch the remaining two before training ends

Our attention is valuable. It supports the legitimacy of the trainers and hopefully suggests pride in those who took the harder road.

>>5292018
>Try to catch the remaining two before training ends
For reasons outlined here >>5292528 but also to see who the other two subsets are, because I'm seeing specialists.
I'm not sure if the first one is a Jinn Adept or just a yogi, but the second one might give us some good scout trainees. It's good to know what might be in store for us regarding future assets.
Also so that we don't see completely clueless when we talk to Clifford about it.

>>5292018
The dudes are getting screwed over, and the chicks are getting exactly what they want. Dang it, at least punish everyone equally for picking instructors based on fetishes.

>Her head tilted to one side, cupping a cheek with her palm.
Yeah, uh, let's try to avoid being in the same space as her again. She's really creeping me out.

>Try to catch the remaining two before training ends
Might as well round things out. Plus, it'll hopefully give a little insight as to what specialties we might end up with.
We've already got martial artists and rangers, maybe we'll get heavy armor/weapons or bodyguards?

>>5292594

They have every opportunity to beg off. They are either getting what they deserve or deserving what they get.

>>5292018
>Try to catch the remaining two before training ends

>>5292018
You guys are weird, the creepy girl is cool.

>Try to catch the remaining two before training ends
Sweaty gave out some pretty good advice, we should follow it next time we fight someone.

Incidentally, Miska was giving off big wisp vibes earlier. I wonder if it would be exploitative to train her after all, Wisp seems pretty miserable.

Yea the instructor is cool actially
But how about the rest doe.

>>5292437
retiring! you're done for the day.

>>5292528
>>5292543
>>5292594
>>5292636
>>5292690
More touring! Who else we got?

Writing!

>>5292738
Irue is probably the craziest person on screen at any given time, honestly.

>>5293946
The person part might be debatable.

Irue is questionably human and is heavily influenced by a consensus of various stupid and contradictory voices inside her head. WOw! Keep trucking, rue

>>5293040
Technical difficulties have occurred to no one's surprise, expect the update later tonight.

"I'll leave you to wrap up, then." You said. "I still need to see how the other two groups are doing before they break for the day."

"Okay. Thanks for coming out to see us?" The guard instructor seemed unsure how to react to your visit. He snapped off a quick salute as you left, turning back to his students with a distracted laugh. "How about we call it early today?"

You heard Jen agreeing while wandering out of earshot. Dusk was rapidly approaching, which hastened your tired pace towards the remaining two instructors, or, at least, where you'd been told you might find them. One was more suspect than the other in that regard, but as fortune would have it the one most likely to be found was also the closest to you already.

Rounding the stone brick path, you found your way towards the estate's armory. The third instructor was supposed to typically hold their lessons nearby, and seeing the amount of equipment propped up against the wall, you understood why the proximity mattered. Maces, flails, a pair of whips, several sizes of wooden shields, short bows, longer bows, crossbows, knives, throwing axes, hatchets... You wouldn't be surprised if a pair of nearly every armament had been dragged out.

The knights were sparring with wooden staves under the watchful eye of an older, bearded man. He kept a steady frown as they moved, trading probing strikes from a distance. When they did finally move in it was with heavy strides, and thrusts that carried behind it their full weight as a driving force. A thrust indiscernible from a stunted charge, turned aside by its target with a deft pivot - which fed into a counter which required the wielder make a quick revolution with the length of their staff.

"Stop, stop!" He barked, running a hand down his face even as your knights stumbled in bringing their weapons to a halt. "What do you think you're wielding? Bloody oak trees? You think there's sand under this grass?"

"...What?" One knight, a man, just looked bewildered at the outburst as he set the tip of the wooden staff in the ground. "What did we do wrong?"

"It's a staff, not an anvil. It's not got the weight! You've got no threat whirling around like that!" He gestured accusingly between them, "I thought you said you knew how to use these things!"

"It's what we've trained to use the most." The man grumbled defensively.

"Trained? You trained for this?" The guard instructor gawked, "Who in Gnome's towering teats trained you?"

"Miss Lamandra." The other knight, a woman stepped up beside her partner, tightening her grip on her staff with a clipped tone. "It's the basics of what was taught in the Teranford royal palace."

The guard looked to open his mouth again when she'd taken a stand, but instead made a rumbling noise from somewhere under his throat as he stroked his beard. His frown deepened, and he held his hand out... Then snapped his fingers impatiently. "Don't just look at me, one of you give me your staff!"

The woman was quick to hand over said staff, glowering at her instructor in the process for what little he seemed to notice or care, and returned to stand beside the other knight. If the bearded guard was offended at the curt treatment, his focus on weighing the staff in his hand didn't show it. He held it in one hand, testing the balance, and then shifted a few cursory swings from its haft, only to grunt in dissatisfaction. Without further delay, he chucked the staff over his shoulder and let it thunk into the grass behind him. "Garbage. May as well throw that other one away too, y'don't know how to use it."

"We've trained in polearm work for over a month!" The man argued, throwing the staff to the ground. "What's so horrible about what we learned you old bastard?!"

"Nothing." He harrumphed, turning his back to your knights to sift through the rows of weapons and arms. He spared a glance at you, giving you a nod in acknowledgement but little else, before resuming his search. "Teranford's polearms are damn near solid metal. Heavier than your clodfoot after a round of proper spirits. They use that weight, an' how sturdy their damn staves are, like they're swinging around damn hammers. That-" He pointed irritably at the discarded staff, "-Is a stick. S'made of wood. Could use it as a javelin for all it weighs, and more than likely t'crack if you swing it like you were and actually hit something. Y'been trained in polearms, but not the local sort. Fuck me."

An awkward glance was exchanged between the two knights, "Miss Lamandra did say we wouldn't get the full benefits because our staves weren't as heavy as the ones back in Teranford, but it can't be that different?"

"It's the principles!" The bearded man groused, "Bah, forget it. No point trying to explain it to you. Here, take these hatchets." He hefted two pairs of handaxes, handing them over roughly to the knights. "Sometime today, we ain't got long till the sun's out!"

"You said we didn't know an axehead from its handle yesterday." The man muttered resentfully, taking the hatchets with no little sign of disdain.

"Aye, and you still don't. But the only weapon you do know your way decently around is one we don't have."

"Then what-"

The knight's protests were cut off when he abruptly raised his axe to prevent the guard from bonking him over the head with a short, wooden eskrima. It was a successful block, but only led to the guard ripping the short stick's length down the shaft of the axe to rap across your knight's knuckles. The shock of his fingers being struck loosened his grip on the axe, and in a single deft reversal the guard instructor caught the hatchet under the blade with his eskrima and ripped it from the knight's loosened grip.

Then he was bonked on the head.

"You ain't gonna be a master of anything, don't got the time to teach you either." The guard growled. "Till you two fuck off or leave, your only assignment is to not get the crap beaten out of you. I don't care how you do it, I don't care what weapons you use, but when I disarm you then whatever weapon you just dropped is banned the rest of the session."

"That's how you're going to teach us? That's not even teaching you brute." The woman scowled, and in short order was having to try and prevent being smacked upside the head with a stick herself. She lost an axe immediately, much the same way her fellow knight had, but quickly blocked the follow up bonk with her other axe... Only to nearly lose it in the exact same manner - But stubbornly tightening her grip on the shaft kept it in her hand.

It mattered little, because he just kicked her in the stomach and then grabbed her by the back of her shirt and shoved her face-first into the ground. "If I had a few years I'd explain the nuance to what I just did t'ya, but I reckon I got a week or so, tops. Maybe a month?" He glanced back at you, rolled his eyes, and then spit. "Shit if I know. Anyhow, principles are lost on you brats, so I'm just going to beat some survival sense into you. Get familiar with whatever you pick up, maybe you'll learn a thing or two before we're through."

You've forgotten entirely what sort of instructor these two wanted. Rinnier would know, probably something to ask her later, but whatever they wanted you were taken aback by what they got. You had no idea if this was an actual learning method for combat, or what the guard was hoping to accomplish in doing it. In a way, it almost reminded you of Kara sparring with her pack the last time you'd come; That same overtly violent energy so casually handed out.

>Leave them be, he knew what he was doing.
>Interject, they signed up for specialized training, not abuse.
>Ask some questions to try and cool the frustrated atmosphere before you leave (what?)
>other? (write-in)

>>5295861
>Leave them be, he knew what he was doing.

>>5295861
>Leave them be, he knew what he was doing.
I'm presuming this is hardly his first time training peasants to become killers.
...
>Join in
Look we're not too much worse off after having the shit kicked out of us twice already, what's another time? Plus we can build some rapport that way, let the knights know that we're not just throwing them into the fire to watch them burn.
Maybe we'll even learn something.

>>5295859
>Y'been trained in polearms, but not the local sort. Fuck me."
It's probably for the best they move on to other arms, then. Training heavily in exotic weaponry sounds like a great way to be in a world of hurt when you inevitably lose your weapon and can't replace it.

>>5295861
>Leave them be, he knew what he was doing.
We don't know a spear from a halberd, we've got no business sticking our nose into martial affairs. Plus, it looks like his teaching style will give them familiarity with a large array of weapons, which is far from a bad thing.

And these grizzled old soldiers usually know what they're doing, even if they are surly. "Beware of an old man in a profession where men usually die young."

>>5296074
I'm game to give weapon drills another go, but I assume we'll cause less disruptions if we join one of the main classes instead of the specialist's sessions.

>>5295861
>Ask some questions to try and cool the frustrated atmosphere before you leave (what?)
>other? (write-in)
Pups are still at their mothers teats after 3 weeks. Please remember this going forward.
Will you make these guards pups or wolves with the same amount of time?

How recovered are we at this point? Is joining in feasible at all?

>irue just fought a magical beast and was described as being tired just last post
>dis guy wanna go to training in combat
I gotta respect the hustle but I also gotta say no.
And we just got an outfit change too. we gonna rip that up as well?..

>>5295861
>other?
Make a note to order some Teranford staves made. It's a pipe with lead junk inside, not something that's had to make.

>>5296461
Don't forget Irue has weapon allergy.

>>5296461
You're pretty exhausted. emotionally and physically.

>>5296701
The issue with making them, besides the forging process and designs, is in the material. Traditionally, Teranford's polearms were made fully of metals, making good use of the nation's abundance of mineral and ore. La'Fiel, conversely, has such a lack of it that the process of making a sword is often considered a luxury. This is why those issued swords either have them as a matter of ceremony, or they're terrifying enough to have earned them as a mark of status.

It can be made provided you find someone familiar with the blacksmithing process, but it'll be a strange investment.

Anyway, will call the vote later tonight!

>>5296762
Ah, I forgot about that detail. Then let's leave the trainer be. Though I wonder why he won't just teach them the spear.

>>5296701
Personally, I'd vote to try and leverage that knife advice we just heard for our claw. Take a supporting role and opportunistically bleed him with shallow cuts. However if we're still exhausted then we'd only embarrass ourselves. Maybe we can try him some other time.

>>5295861
>Leave them be, he knew what he was doing.
>Try to explain his rough handed approach to the knights
Out of all the things he could be teaching them, practical fighting experience might be the best choice. He might be a big asshole, but fighting him will make you strong. Probably.

>>5296701
The weapon issue is tied to the bracket as far as we know, and can be solved by putting it in our pocket.

>>5296762
Wait...

Could Lily produce a heavy enough polearm to suit their needs? Make it out oak or something, maybe give it a bit of extra length or girth to compensate further?

>>5296784
>Though I wonder why he won't just teach them the spear.
I think what we just missed from that conversation was them going "we've been trained with staves" and him going "show me what you know".

It's not that he's unwilling to teach them on spears, it's just that their "staff" training is totally useless with normal staffs, which means they are worse than untrained, as they will have inevitably picked up bad habits from the other training.

>>5297439

This is exactly it.

They've been trained with heavy polearms (which we can't blame Rinnier for: She was imparting what she knew, and does not have the full background to know that her weapon instruction is not applicable to La'Fiel armories.)

There's also little point in continuing up that line of training as the likelyhood of collecting a useful amount of Teranford arms and specializing individuals in their use is low. As it stood, the singular example we sourced is only marginally useful, allowing Rinnier to apply her adequate combat background in her own case.

>>5297299

Any effort we spend on emulating Terranford arms would be better spent in sourcing or enhancing La'Fiel arms. For the same effort and resources we could (probably) imbue polearms with the weight and strength necessary, we could invest that same mana, knowledge and time into developing one of our specialists or sourcing equipment like armor with a much higher return on investment.

>>5295861

>Leave them be, he knew what he was doing.
>Try to explain his rough handed approach to the knights

A generalist is a specialist of their own. If they learn only a half dozen things about the kinds of weapons they can desperately scrabble from a muddied furrow or dump out of a looted warchest, they will save lives, including their own.

They're training under a genuine man-at-arms. They may never understand the luck they stumbled into, and they should probably be informed. Soak it up, weapons, bruises and all.

>>5295867
>>5296074
>>5296179
>>5296917
>>5296784
>>5297551
Leave them be, he's qualified(?)

>>5296074
push ourselves even harder!

>>5296387
Something about teats!

>>5296917
>>5297551
Talk to your knights briefly!

alright, writing!
---

>>5297299
There are certain types of wood that are incredibly dense and resilient. Colloquially it gets nicknamed ironwood, but the trees themselves have their own specific names. Lily absolutely could grow these in mass if you had some saplings of them!

"Before you continue, I'd like to address some things." You still wondered if things may have turned out differently if you'd intervened back then. You had no intention of trying to soften their training here, but... The situation felt too familiar to ignore, and you didn't want to repeat your regrets. "Do you mind?"

"Not at all, Ser Valen." The bearded guard stepped away from his two charges, ceding the floor to you with an upright posture.

You'd almost expected some sass given his attitude, but... The guards of your family's estate were professionals. Each and every one. They had to have been, to qualify for the position in the first place. You nodded your thanks, then turned towards the knights. "What do the two of you think you're lacking most right now as knights?" You paused, noting almost immediately the frustration and confusion. "No, let me correct that. If you were to take a guess at what all of the knights are lacking most critically, what would it be?"

"...Training?" The man hazarded, giving his partner time to get back to her feet. "That's why we're here, at least. We wanted to learn how to fight."

You nodded slowly, rolling the answer around in your head before responding. "Yes. Close, but not quite. What about you?" You turned your attention to the woman, who just looked lost.

"I'd've guessed training too, Ser Valen."

You nodded again. "Neither of you are wrong, but more directly, it's experience. Training will help you get that, but there's a number of other ways you could get experience as well. Some instill discipline, some risk your lives, some require manners. At the end of the day you're here for experience, so that the next time you end up having to use a weapon you know what to expect."

"Yes, Ser Valen." The response is forced. It was the sort of acquiescence you knew was shoved out over a small pile of grievances.

It brought a wry grin to your face. "You're already frustrated, and I'm not going to tell you not to be. Get as angry as you want, come up with as many plans as you can to try and get even. He gave you his blessing to do exactly that, and I'm giving you mine." They glanced at each other furtively; A split second's mutual search for affirmation. You continued, pretending not to notice. "What I will say though, is soak up everything you can learn from this experience. If you're disarmed, try to understand how, or why. If you fall, remember what led to it. Iterate as best you can on your failures."

Their shoulders loosened, sinking visibly as the anger that left them tense ebbed just a little. "Alright, I understand." The woman grit out, more reluctant than proud. Her eyes still smoldered, an ill-intentioned glower pinned on the bearded guard beside you. Whatever relationship they'd forged with this man over the past couple days, comradery had apparently long been thrown out the window.

You turned towards their instructor. "Anything to add?"

"Not at all, Ser Valen."

"Nothing?" You prodded, "All of the guards have free reign to train their groups as they please, I have faith you all know how to get results."

"That's an interesting thought." He admitted, scratching at his beard. "Why don't you join us for a bit, Ser Valen? Seen your cousin get his ass beat by the captain pretty often, m'curious to see how you'd fare."

"I'd fare miserably." You deadpan without hesitation.

"With a pair of claws like that?" His gaze drifted down to your Shade-wreathed hand. "Carrying around those things all the time, y'give the message you know how to use 'em."

"I have a vague idea," You admitted, wiggling the talons amusedly. You raise your arm however, showing off the partially shredded sleeving. "But it's not like I'm trying to show them off. I don't know how to remove them."

Understanding dawned in his eyes and he chuckled. "Ah, my apologies for the misunderstanding then, Ser Valen. Seen cadets get too proud of their arms and get themselves into trouble strutting around with them before. Afraid I've misjudged you on that."

You smile tiredly, snorting softly at the idea. "It'd do me well to get some experience myself either way. I've gotten through a lot until now that I probably shouldn't have... Problem is, I've got so much to do that I'm usually busy with some new trouble before I have the chance to practice in the first place."

"Take it from me Ser Valen, luck is its own sort of skill." He chuckled ruefully, "If you ever feel like joining, I could probably handle beating a third greenhorn a few hours a day."

You sighed, shaking your head as you drew away. "Have my fair share of getting beaten dealing with that nightmare colt left in the barns. I'm afraid I'll probably have to pass."

"Hoho? You've been trying to break the boy?" The guard's interest perked, and your knights along with it. "How's that going for ya?"

Your chin dipped, and few a few seconds you just stood there silently.

"...We're coming to terms."

"Heh." The guard turned back to your knights. "Alright, that's enough of a break! Back to it!"

"Wait-" You grabbed his attention briefly before leaving yourself. "There was an instructor that wasn't so easy to track down. Do you have any idea where I might find them?"

"Mrgh? Ah, Salhade. I remember the old man taking an interest in all this. There's a clearing a bit into the woods, just follow the path from the gardens. That'd be my bet."

You filed the name away, feeling it niggle at your memory somehow. It wasn't a name you'd heard recently, probably not even in recent years, but it sounded familiar. "Alright, thanks." With your destination in mind, you hurried off. It was getting late, and the longer it took you to get there, the less likely you were to actually catch them.

When he'd said there was a path from the gardens, you knew roughly which path it was. There were few paths leading from the estate out to the woods, and this one in particular was one your sister had dragged Caylen and you down multiple times. You even somewhat recalled what clearing it might be, and so you felt no little amount of nostalgia retracing the steps of your childhood... But this path was much longer than you remembered. It really was a surprising distance from the estate.

The instructor's hunch turned out to be correct though, as you heard the voice of your mark before you saw him - A somber man, speaking in a measured and patient manner. "You underestimated the threat a knight poses."

An indistinct grumbling responded, and you stepped into the clearing to find balding man with milky white facial hair, trimmed neatly to his cheeks. He wore a simple brown coat, too light weight to truly keep anyone warm, and sipped casually from a small flask. He sat at a small wooden table across from Miska, looking over a board arranged between them, illuminated coolly by small motes of light orbiting aimlessly around the pair. Miska noticed your entry, looking over the man's shoulder at you curiously, but turned her attention back to him.

"Your pawns didn't give me much room to move." Miska defended herself, "I was busy trying to keep your bishops out."

"Consider it a harrying tactic." The man, you should have recognized him but even now you weren't sure you'd ever met him. "I dictated the front line with the pawns to restrict the active field, but never had any intention of overextending my bishops. They were in place to take the opportunity of a misplay as you presented them."

"So I noticed..." Miska grumbled again, furrowing her brow intensely while studying the board. "Then your knight broke the line and started eviscerating my back line."

"A knight is a delicate tool. Surgical." The man, Salhade, agreed. "They're difficult to handle, for both the user and the opponent."

"At least it took longer than last time." Miska sighed, the two of them beginning to gather their pieces into a small satchel.

"Same conditions next time?" Salhade inquired, slowly getting to his feet. You caught a glint of light off something metallic concealed under the hem of his cloak.

"Yeah, I'd rather you without rooks than anything else."

Miska's instructor waved his hand dismissively, signaling the little motes - ambient Wisp mana, you realized - to wink out gradually. He turned to you, and for a brief moment you caught sight of the fading light glimmering off a hilt at his side before the cloak settled around him. "Ser Valen." He seemed to recognize you at first, but settled for a formal greeting after a moment. Beyond the greeting, he didn't seem to pay you much mind.

This man wasn't one of your guards. It was frustrating, but you couldn't place him.

>Inquire about the training.
>Ask more about him. (what?)
>...You remember now, he was- (who?)
>Other? (write-in)

This is not a Forgetting, there's only context clues to go on.

>>5297942
If he were the missing healer then he'd have already scarpered, having leave to get this far from the estate. Right?

>...You remember now, he was- (who?)
Irue got lost in nostalgia after she heard his name, is he one of our childhood tutors?

>Inquire about the training.
Training tactical acumen I guess, a gap in our skillsets to be sure. Though, what else is he teaching her?

>Ask more about him. (what?)
It's a little embarrassing but I suppose if no one guesses correctly we can just ask.

>>5297942
>Inquire about the training.

This does sort of feel like one of those things Luna "borrowed" for whatever reason

If I had to guess, maybe the Archivist, "Priest" / Shrine Representative, Magic / tactics tutor.

>>5297942
>...You remember now, he was- (who?)
>for a brief moment you caught sight of the fading light glimmering off a hilt at his side
One of our family's knights? Only knights can carry swords, right? I wonder if he plays any role in the upkeep of the mini atelier down in the library. It was powered by wisp illusions as I recall.

>>5297939
>feeling it niggle at your memory somehow
PANIK
>It wasn't a name you'd heard recently, probably not even in recent years
KALM

>...You remember now, he was- (who?)
Probably one of Caylen's tutors

>>5297938
>"If you ever feel like joining, I could probably handle beating a third greenhorn a few hours a day."
We'll have to take him up on it one of these days, but I'd still like to sneak into the back on one of the general classes a few times first, so we don't completely embarrass ourselves.

>>5297942
>Miska's instructor waved his hand dismissively, signaling the little motes - ambient Wisp mana, you realized - to wink out gradually. He turned to you, and for a brief moment you caught sight of the fading light glimmering off a hilt at his side before the cloak settled around him.
So, a Wisp user and a swordsman. Swords are rare due to cost, iirc, so whoever he is he likely knows his business.

But what is someone not under our employ doing teaching our knights?

>Inquire about the training.
Shame we missed the actual fight-y bits, but we can settle for just asking about it.

No idea who the guy is, aside from a vague speculation that he's another of the Wisp healers, but that seems very unlikely.

>>5297942
Wait, is this guy a fucking paladin?

>>5298469
If wisp mana won't touch us 'cus of Dryad mana then how come we have shade stuff?

Bit delayed until the weekend, sorry!

>>5298469
It's very possible! Paladin is a title given by the Wisp dominion to those of particularly distinguished martial prowess. If he has even a passing association with the Shrine, you can probably assume he has been granted that title.

>>5300083
Do adepts of other mana have titles like that too?

>>5298016
>>5298017
>>5298183
Training inquisition!

>>5298016
Just ask who he is!

Very much delayed, but writing!
---
>>5302715
There are organizational titles within the dominion for each Mana, but few of them are meaningfully recognized outside of said dominion. Paladin as a title is given in recognition of martial prowess over anything else, so naturally it is one of those universally recognized titles due to the strength it conveys. A similar one would be the Luna dominion's "Sage", which conveys a different form of unparalleled expertise.

In case this sparks a form of connection, yes, Mint being formally titled the Lavender Sage doesn't actually mean she bears this title. She is officially recognized as a "Saint" by the Shrine, which is a largely meaningless title that floats vaguely above just about anything else in terms of honor and clout, but has no particular responsibility or place in the hierarchy. For obvious reasons, this title is typically given post-mortem. Her designation as Lumiaceae, the Lavender Sage, is one given by East Heaven as a cultural nickname.

Although there are some in Luna's dominion who may argue she deserved the title of Sage for her ability to utilize several different Mana, as that capability implies a form of unparalleled expertise all on its own. That walks the road of scholarly debate however, and so is irrelevant to the original question.

One of your old tutors? No, that's not it. Someone skilled enough to own a sword was more likely to have been Caylen's tutor, but you don't think that's it either. You're sure you've seen this old man before, but where? "I'm sorry, you don't seem like one of the estate's guards."

"Hoh, no, I suppose not." Salhade chuckled to himself. "Well that's fine, I would have been quite surprised if you did remember me. My name is Salhade, a Paladin, if that makes any difference to you. I'm an on-and-off again guest of the estate, you might say."

"Irue Valen, head of the house." You introduce yourself, still feeling oddly offput by his familiarity.

"I heard you made quite the ruckus when you arrived." Salhade nodded, "You were still the heir a few days ago, but certainly wasted no time seizing authority with your aunt incapacitated."

"...Do you have an issue with that?" You weren't really sure what he or you could do if the man did take exception to your new position.

Fortunately, he just shook his head. "Hoh, hardly. No, with all respect due to your household, your family's business is none of my concern. My student may have had something to say about it, but I've no intention to speak on her behalf."

"Student?" You continued digging through your mind, trying to place where you've met him before. It was on the tip of your tongue, but...

"Mm. Alouette has a complicated relationship with your family, or so I understand."

Oh.

You stare at the man blankly, feeling the implication take its sweet time sinking in. "You know- you trained Alouette?"

"There was a time I trained her, yes. Lest you get too strong an impression of me, the student has long surpassed the master." He gave you a humble grin. "Still, for whatever reason it seems she has some lingering fondness for this old man, and so your aunt bid I was welcome to come and go as I pleased. Though, I suppose that privilege is at your discretion now."

You remember now. Vaguely. Alouette had introduced your sister, Caylen and you to him in passing. "No, you're absolutely still welcome!" You assured him quickly, "Alouette introduced once, didn't she?"

"A long time ago." He agreed. "I was in the area and thought I might catch my student for old time's sake, but seems she's been quite busy these days."

Busy was a way of putting it. You can't help but frown, "How much do you know?"

"Only bits and pieces." Salhade shook his head, "Alouette's off guarding Clara's boy, and they appear to have had a lover's quarrel or some such."

"A what?"

Salhade waved his hand dismissively. "Nevermind. I was just trying to decide what to do next when you and your entourage arrived. I hope you don't mind that I stuck my nose into this little training exercise you put the guards up to?"

Even if Salhade hadn't been the one to train Alouette, his sword and the title of Paladin more than qualified him for the role. That he'd shown interest at all was a windfall you couldn't begin to estimate. "It's unexpected, but I'm thrilled you were interested. How much longer do you think you'll be around?"

"A while." He answered vaguely. "To be quite honest, I came to the territory to escape being harrassed by the local lords and the Crown. They're all quite pushy."

"How so?" You somewhat doubted you would fall into the same trends, but you were curious what had chased him out here.

"Oh, politics." Salhade sighed wearily, "Dinner will be ready soon, why don't I tell you a few stories as we go? Miska?" He turned aside to address your knight, who had been standing somewhat awkwardly in silence as you talked. "That's fine with you, isn't it?"

"I am getting hungry." She admitted, "It's not a problem if I walk with the two of you?"

"If you're not tired of me for the day." Salhade assured, "And you, Ser Valen? Do you have any objections?"

"No, though I'd hoped to catch you during your training to see how it was going."

"We can talk about that, too." Salhade allowed, leading the two of you back towards the estate.

"I noticed you were playing chess when I arrived. Is that part of the training?"

"No, I'm afraid that's just an old man's hobby." Salhade laughed, "We called an end to today's work some time ago, but it is an indulgence of mine to wind down afterwards with a light game or two. When I can find a partner, at any rate."

"I didn't know know you knew how to play, Miska." You glanced over at the tired knight speculatively, but she scoffed.

"That's cause I don't, Ser Valen. Salhade is teaching me the rules."

"She has no talent for it." The man offered bluntly, eliciting an indignant growl from Miska.

"Sorry I'm not a savant." She said.

"Oh, don't be offended my dear." Salhade relented, "Prodigies are dreadful. I myself have no particular talent for it either!"

"Bullshit." Miska shot back aggravatedly.

"There's a difference between talent and experience." He intoned with a playfully conspiratorial expression. "You do things enough you start to learn some tricks and recognize situations you've seen before. I'm rather poor at the game myself, but I've played it long enough to know my way around."

"And that's why you keep beating me with handicaps?"

"You are looking too far." Salhade returned chidingly, shutting Miska up as she opted simply to grit her teeth.

"What do you mean?" There was context in that exchange you were missing, you were sure of it. Salhade, seemingly aware of the discrepancy, laughed softly to himself.

"Haa... Let me think." His eyes closed, a pensive expression overtaking his face while you walked. "Ser Valen, am I wrong to say you've met with the other instructors already?"

You shook your head, playing along. "No, I met them before finding the two of you."

"Mm. Then, if you would indulge me, which of the three do you think is the most accomplished warrior? Or, to be more direct, which do you think is the strongest? If they fought, who would win?"

You hadn't seen much of them, but from your impressions... The younger blonde man was probably not in the running. Which meant either the man-at-arms or that fluffy haired woman. "It would depend, wouldn't it? On the circumstances they fought under."

"Hoh, that's an excellent consideration!" Salhade's eyes sparkled, impressed. "However in this case, I am confident that there will always be one winner of the three. You might stack the odds against that winner as much as you'd prefer, maybe even lop off a limb, if you so please, but they will still win."

You blinked, put off guard by the scale of that kind of answer. "Who?"

Salhade just waved off the question, "'Who' isn't the right question, Ser Valen. 'Why' is. 'Why' do you not know 'who'?"

"...Should I?" Was one of them particularly famous? They were all just guards at your estate.

"No." Salhade put an end to the notion almost as quickly as it had been planted. "When one evaluates another, they do so relatively. Relative to yourself, and to other benchmarks you are familiar with. You know my dear student, so I imagine you would agree Alouette is quite undefeatable by the guards at this estate, yes?"

"Yes." The answer is reflexive. Alouette was a monster.

"Then, what about myself?" Salhade prodded, "Am I similarly undefeatable?"

You looked at him, coming to a stop as the old man stood patiently under your speculative gaze, and your eyes lingered on the hilt of his sword. "Yes?"

"No." He corrected with a laugh, "There's a handful of guards here who could give me a run for my money." He flashed a warm grin, "But I appreciate the vote of confidence, Ser Valen."

"...I don't understand." Setting aside the unexpected self-evaluation, you tried to fit the questions back into context.

"That's the point we start from." Salhade agreed, "Not understanding. When we, ourselves, lack experiences, we struggle to identify the experiences of others; There is only so far beyond your own capabilities that you can accurately estimate. Ideally, we must first thoroughly evaluate our own limits, and from there, we can begin to understand where we stand in comparison to others."

"So when you said Miska was looking too far..." You trailed off.

"He meant that I was too bad at the game to judge whether he was good or bad at it." Miska concluded, irked.

"Is this part of what you've been teaching her?"

"All conflict begins with the self." Salhade returned, "So any attempt to improve yourself must similarly begin there. Self awareness, both of your limits and your state, is where we start. Learning to recognize when there is nothing you can do, and when doing something can make all the difference."

You fell silent, letting the conversation sink in on its own terms. "I didn't expect philosophy to be on the syllabus for combat training." You admitted after a time. "Not that I disagree."

"She is learning to handle herself as well, fear not." Salhade assured you with a laugh, "But it is my personal belief that why one fights is more important to a warrior than how. I imagine young Miska will have plenty of opportunities in the future to polish her skills, so it is preferable that she spend the time she has now polishing herself."

"Can we not talk about this while I'm here?" Miska groused.

"You are the one who wanted to accompany us." Salhade reminded with a twinkle in his eye.

"Yeah, but this feels bad. Like my privacy is being violated, or something." Miska insisted. "At least don't do it in front of me."

You proffered an apologetic smile, letting the matter drop alongside Salhade.

"Anyway, what Ser Valen really wanted to know is how much ass I can kick now." She insisted, carrying the conversation onward.

"Oh, is that so?" Salhade feigned surprise, "My apologies, I didn't realize. Unfortunately, young Miska is also quite poor at that."

"Hey!"

>More about Salhade (what?)
>The circumstances of the nobility and Crown
>Other? (write-in)
>Break off to go rest

>>5303169
>More about Salhade (what?)
How did he earn the title of paladin?
>The circumstances of the nobility and Crown

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Irue is already exhausted. if another vote is pushed to go do some bullshit I'm gonna stomp one of you bitches out

>>5303169
>The circumstances of the nobility and Crown
>Other? (write-in)
Explain what Calen and Alouette is up to and that they are mostly responsible for happened with / to Clara, see what he thinks is up since he probably has a better idea of what is going on in her head.

>>5303169
>The circumstances of the nobility and Crown
>More about Alouette
I want to know what could cause her to attack Clara. What makes her move and what determines where her loyalty lies. Because we'll likely have much more chances of success talking her down than fighting her.

>>5303169
>Break off to go rest

>>5303164
I like this guy, he knows his business.
The gentle bullying of Miska is weirdly constructive, I think. I get the impression he's trying to keep her mentally engaged (and thus away from ruminating on her loss). Hopefully it works as intended.

I'm surprised he didn't comment on our claws, especially considering his affinity. I imagine that even without the claws themselves being visible, we carry that arm oddly due to a mix of the ruined hand and the danger of accidental slicing.

>>5303169
>The circumstances of the nobility and Crown
I'm willing to also mention the situation with Alouette's defection, but we ought to be mindful of her connection to him, so avoid too much detail and drop the topic if he starts to show a negative reaction.

>>5303169
>Ask if he's visited Clara
If he has,
>Ask what he makes of her condition.
Try to get a feel for his views on the NW and if he can be useful fixing Clara

>>5303183
Salhade!

>>5303183
>>5303190
>>5303211
>>5303448
What drove him here, anyway?

>>5303190
>>5303211
give him more info on Alouette's movements!

>>5303852
Ask if he's visited our aunt!

>>5303374
Resting!

Writing!

You listen to the one-sided bickering for a while longer, opting to steer the conversation in a different direction once a lull presented itself. "You mentioned you were a paladin?"

"I am." Salhade acknowledged.

"How did you get that title?" The actual process of receiving the title wasn't something you had looked too closely into. "Is there a test? Do you have to have made some kind of achievement?"

"Hmmm..." The older man nodded along thoughtfully, then turned a question back onto you. "What do you know about the title?"

"It's given by the Wisp dominion in recognition of someone's martial ability." The simplest of answers, but you could dig a little further. "It's particularly notable in that it is a title whose prestige is recognized even outside of the Shrine, so in that respect it is something like a seal of guarantee for someone's skill."

Salhade chuckled, turning a nostalgic eye your way. "True enough, that's exactly what it means these days to be a paladin. In the past it was a little different, but not by much."

"Different?"

"Well Ser Valen, you said it yourself: It is a title recognized outside of the dominion." Salhade agreed, "It certainly wasn't made to be that way, and it's rather queer if you think about it, isn't it?" He held out his hand towards the estate, "There are many excellent warriors that have never known Wisp's affection, and because of that they will never bear the title of Paladin. Can it be considered a seal of guarantee when the dominion itself does not care to acknowledge anyone outside of Wisp's influence as a candidate?"

"...For Wisp adepts specifically." You allowed, but the answer felt wrong. Or rather, the answer itself wasn't wrong, but it wasn't the conclusion you should have come to. "Ah, then if that were the case there should be a similar title from every dominion."

Salhade beamed, "Ah, Alouette. You make an old man jealous." He shook his head when you and Miska both shot questioning glances his way. "There is one other title universally recognized. Would you like to guess?"

"Sage." You had no need to guess, this was well within your realm of expertise. You stroked Lily preemptively, trying to keep the little Dryad apparition soothed as you turned to a mildly volatile topic. "A recognition from the Luna dominion regarding an unparalleled expertise in a topic."

"Right you are!" Salhade's smile grew wider, "Now I don't claim to know the inner workings of that dominion, but you can rest assured that such a title wasn't made for the benefit of outsider recognition. The Shrine typically does not care much for anyone outside of the Shrine itself. So, Ser Valen, what do these two titles have in common?"

"Outside recognition?" Again, an answer that wasn't quite the answer. There was another angle. They were titles universally recognized, but not created to be so... "The Shrine didn't intend for those titles to have the recognition they do now... Oh, I see." You frowned as the gears in your mind shifted. "A different perspective, then: It's not outside recognition, but recognized from the outside."

"Quite right. Recognition came from outside." Salhade intoned, "You seem quite knowledgeable on the topic, so I won't go into the Shrine's stance on intervention. Suffice to say, the idealized form of the Shrine is as an island, Ser Valen. The reality, however, is messier. When someone has power, they look to grow that power - and when they encounter others with power, they think of how to use that power to best benefit themselves. This is why the Shrine was founded, after all." He kept careful watch on you as he spoke, somewhere between a story and a lecture. "So that people of power, organizations and governments, could not use their power to exploit those favored by Mana for their own ends. The problem, however, is that our best intentions rarely exist beyond the grasp of human nature."

"What does this have to do with paladins?" Miska interjected bluntly, "I can't follow this human nature stuff."

Salhade mused over the question, then turned to you. "Ser Valen?"

"...The Shrine was originally founded to protect those favored by the Mana from exploitation." You took the prompt to summarize to Miska, "They adopted a policy of noninterference in political matters explicitly to keep themselves, and their members, free- no, I should say guarded- from that possibility."

"Okay, and what do the paladins and sages have do with that?"

"Having become a powerful faction in their own right, they couldn't operate independantly. They had to form relations with the factions around them, and that meant finding ways to benefit one another." Your brows knit together, finding a new facet to what you already knew. "Recognition came from outside... Sages and paladins were what benefitted other factions."

"Excellent deduction, I see now why Alouette was often proud of you children." Salhade praised you easily, "In both cases, the Luna and Wisp dominions broke the Shrine's overarching policy of noninteference and extended their resources to the outside. Or, maybe 'broke' is too harsh of a word... 'bent', perhaps?" Salhade mused on the difference for a moment. "In the Wisp dominion at least, there is an unofficial leeway granted to those ranking as Paladins allowing them to become more integrally connected with the affairs of the outside world, and in exchange for this leeway, the Wisp dominion has amassed no shortage of clout and favorable terms for the Shrine. They hold the second strongest presence within the Shrine, right after Luna."

"You're describing paladins and sages as mercenaries." You note acerbically.

"We are free to choose who and what we get involved in as we wish." Salhade corrected unconcerned, "If we choose to become engaged in worldly affairs without these convenient titles, we are choosing to disassociate ourselves from the Shrine, as well as the benefits and support it offers those beloved by the Mana. So far as I am aware, only the dominions of Wisp and Luna have adopted permissive attitudes in regards to that, and as such, only they hold titles considered universally recognized."

"Cool, but how did you become a paladin?" Your conversation largely had flown over Miska, who still wanted an answer for the original question.

"Oh, that's a boring story. It's not important."

"Everything you just told us was boring!"

The old man's laughter did little to assauge Miska's frustration. You offered your knight a consoling smile, but otherwise left her be while mulling over what Salhade had mentioned. "So as a paladin, you were being harassed by the nobility and the Crown to try and join their cause?"

"In short." Salhade affirmed, "Awfully persistent. Try to stay an inn, get woken up the next day by some noble's entourage inviting you to their mansion. Try to buy supplies, get offered suspicious 'good will' deals." He grumbled example after example, seemingly growing tired and fed up just remembering it. "The Valen territory has never wanted a thing from me. A man can sit at his campfire and eat his fish in peace without some self-important fob trying to entice him to a formal dinner. Lovely place." He cut a meaningful glance in your direction. "I pray it stays that way till the day I die."

"I don't know what Alouette would do to me if I drove you off." You admit blithely, much to Salhade's warm amusement.

"Oh, I doubt she'd do anything. You children are..." He trailed off, making a strange expression before shaking his head. "She's much too soft, at any rate."

"Have you visited aunt Clara?" Sensing an opportunity to maybe learn more about your childhood caretaker, you turn to prod the old man in another direction.

"No, I'm not much of a healer and we don't have a strong relationship in the first place." Salhade denied.

"You don't?" Your head tilts."But she granted you permission to come and go, that's pretty big."

"A gift to my dear student, if anything." Salhade mused, "Alouette vouched for me, and so I come and go on her visa, so to speak."

"You're not worried it might get revoked with the current situation?"

Salhade came to a stop gradually, looking at you curiously. "Will you revoke it, Ser Valen?"

"No, but, I mean... What do you know of what happened?" You'd started on this topic earlier, but didn't quite pursue it. Maybe now was the time to.

Salhade's small grin faded with the question, and he crossed his arms to give it some proper consideration. "Alouette and your aunt were in an altercation of sorts. To my knowledge, Alouette has chosen to support young Caylen, which put her at odds with his mother and resulted in a fight. I've heard Clara Valen returned quite injured from it."

"If you're here on Alouette's behalf, then what she did may be considered betrayal. It could jeopardize your welcome here once my aunt wakes up."

"Hmmm..." Salhade nodded, "Nothing to be done about it if it does." He shrugged, "but I'm not worried."

"Do you have any idea why she would have..." What's the word? Betrayed? Defected? Rebelled? The taste of any of them leave bitterness on your tongue just thinking about it. "Done this? Why she would have sided with Caylen?"

"If you're asking for specific answers, I'm afraid you'd be better off asking her directly." Salhade discouraged your curiosity apologetically. "But I don't believe for a moment that Alouette has taken a 'side', so to speak. Much less against Clara."

You don't really understand. You couldn't understand what she'd done, much less why she did it, and your greatest fear was that Artemis had somehow gotten to her as well... But the confidence in which Salhade simply believed in her was baffling all on its own. "Then why?"

The elder paladin shook his head, signalling a wish to move on. "It's not the first time they've gotten into a fight, Ser Valen. Those two have a history of doing unnecessary things because of each other. Whatever fears you're having, I think it safe to assure you they are unfounded."

His reassurance meant nothing to you, partly because you weren't even sure what fears you did have. The whole situation was some formless ball of stress and anxiety that made you want to scream and/or throttle your cousin violently. You walked on in a silence, one awkwardly participated in by Miska who had gotten lost somewhere in the discussion of Shrine politic and then never quite rejoined. You were about to take your leave to rest when one of the estate guards appeared to flag you down, jogging to intercept your group quickly.

"Ser Valen," He offered a quick salute, "Miss Lamandra needs you."

"She what?" Lily's mask conceals the owlish blink.

"The missing agent has been detained. She requested you come as soon as you could."

You jolted alert, briefly emerging from the creeping haze of fatigue that had been gathering. "I need to handle this, I enjoyed getting a chance to talk!" You nodded to Miska and Salhade both before hurrying away.

You weren't sure what to expect from the captured agent, but the man before you looked... Non-descript. Short hair brown hair, slightly unshaven, a bit chubby. He wore the same sort of clothes you'd expect to see on anyone from Carona, setting him distinctively aside from the upper-crust of society, but not such that you'd think he was destitute. Your own knights had looked much worse off than him. Really the most eye-catching thing about him was the way the ropes criss-crossed his body in some bizarre tortoise-shell pattern, but you doubted that was his own choice.

"We caught him trying to find out what happened to the healers." Rinnier greeted you with business, "I've got to admit, the staff here are incredibly loyal. One of the serving staff actually lead him to us after he approached them for information."

"Aunt Clara was picky about who she hired." You met the man's eyes, having become the sole object of his attention since you entered the room. He was less panicked than you thought he'd be, given his circumstances. "You're not an adept."

"No, Ser Valen." He affirmed, shifting uncomfortably in his rope binding.

A Wisp adept wouldn't been caught like this. A Luna adept would have sent Lily into a frenzy. There's still the possibility of he was favored by one of the other Mana, but not being an adept was arguably a benefit of its own when trying to go unnoticed. You glanced at Rinnier, "Have you learned anything from him yet?"

"No, I had someone go find you as soon as we'd caught him." She shook her head, "I made sure he wouldn't be running away in the meantime, but interrogation is Ari's job."

"...Is that how you're supposed to tie him up?" You look him over skeptically, but Rinnier nodded.

"It's something my older brother learned to restrain his night guests, so it'll work here."

You blink, and your eyes drift towards the floor for a moment, finally turning to meet Rinnier's gaze. "Night guests?"

"Assassins. He was royalty, in line for the throne."

"Ah." You guess that made sense. The two of you turned your attention back towards the Artemis agent. "So, how cooperative are you going to be?"

"As much as I can be." The man offered unhesitatingly, keeping unbroken eye-contact... Well, eye-to-mask contact."

"Really?"

"I don't like pain, Ser Valen." He nodded very seriously. "I'd rather not got through any interrogation if I can help it."

"...You are surprisingly uncommitted to your cause." You observe blithely. "What guarantee do we have that any of what you tell us will be true?"

"Do you have a Luna adept? I'll freely submit to verification for anything I say."