Race: the new nameless humanoid species
Gender: Female
Age: biological - around 21 in human years; actual(?) - almost half a year (?).
Background: protege of a natural science scholar, unknown origins
Status: Healthy
Perk(s): "Follow the white cat" - you have a moody guiding spirit at your side who can boost your spirit aspect advancement should you get on its better side (+1 spirit arcane charge point after passing hard charisma attribute check (18)), expect its occasional interference.
"No one is an island" - you get 1 + n bonus to all social influence skills and CHA rolls when applied to teammates, where n is the number of steps of the target's affection tier beyond neutral (applies to both positive and negative affection dimensions). Additionally, get +3 to the mentioned bonuses if Amalia is around and can provide quick advice. Passive effect: unearth more insights on followers.
"It's in my blood" - you get a permanent +1 bonus to Intelligence and +1 to arcane skill. Actions that train arcane aspects have a 1/6 chance to double the yields unless the base earning equals or exceeds one full level. You are more prone to magic-related actions and thoughts. You might find it harder to resist the allure of magic in some situations.
Attributes
Base value
Modified value
Total value
Dice bonus
Strength
9
9
4
Constitution
16
16
11
Mobility
10
(+2 cond.)
10 (12 cond.)
5 (7 cond.)
Perception
11
11
6
Coordination
14
14
9
Micromotorics
13
13
8
Intellect
18(+1/3)
18
13
Wisdom
17
17
12
Charisma
20
20
15
Luck
4
4
4
Misfortune
2
2
2
Skill
Attribute value
Learned value
Modified value
Dice bonus
Melee combat
1
4
5
Ranged combat
2
2
Arcane skill
7
7
(+1 cnd.day)
14 (15 cnd.day)
Defense
3
4
1 (+2 cnd.w.)
8 (10 cnd.w.)
Objects usage
2
2
Mounted combat
3
3
Willpower
7
1
8
Balance
2
(+2 cnd.w.)
2 (4 cnd.w.)
Sneaking
3
3
Reconnaissance
5
1
6
Persuasion
10
2
12
Intimidation
6
6
Haggle
7
7
Performance
8
8
Seduction
8
8
Geography lore
7
2
9
Nature lore
7
1
8
Arcane lore
7
5
12
Social and cultural lore
9
2
11
Craft lore
7
2
9
Lingual lore
9
9
Daily craft
6
2
8
Pharma and treatment
7
3
10
Weaponsmithing
4
4
Armorsmithing
6
6
Tailoring
7
2
9
Art
7
7
Artificery
6
1
7
Burglary
5
5
Huntsmanship
4
4
Alchemy
7
7
Sorcery
7
7
Flight and wing-related traits
Wings skill level
13
Flight mastery level
advanced
Normal speed
above average, can forcefully accelerate to considerably fast
Maximum range
considerably far, anywhere up to twenty-eight kilometers.
Maximum height
considerably high (up to 250 meters)
Maximum extra lifting weight
low (10 kg)
Balance
above average, withstands weather and can try to regain without landing
dodge extra propulsion, posing, enhanced balance, enhanced surface acceleration, shielding with wings
#1) Thaumaturgy level 7 (6/7 to level 8):
You can sense the activity of the entropic aspects within ~1000 meters radius, and unusual concentration/malfunction of other aspects within ~200 meters radius.
You have gained the permanent +1 bonus to constitution
You have gained the permanent +1 bonus to wisdom
You regain mental strengths a little bit faster during the daytime.
Using thaumaturgy during the daytime requires less mental and physical effort.,
You can allegedly see prophetic dreams
You can temporarily nullify magic in ~30 meters radius or in a 45 meters-long 30' cone a few times a day, or emit an anti-magic field up to ~15 meters radius a few times a day.
you can temporarily amplify the aspects power around you once a day
you can temporarily amplify or suppress the aspects power of a target up to two times a day
You can try to scan surrounding areas for traces of planar breaching with very high odds to succeed and sense the short residue of extraplanar entities.
You can conjure light on the basic level (sparks, flashes, rays)
You can shape light on the basic level (flash explosions, molding into orbs, luminal barriers, luminal domes, wedges of solidified light, sparks strike)
You passively gain +1 to arcane skill when exposed to the sun but also get -1 to arcane skill at night AND in dark places.
#2) Spirit level 7:
You are able of an advanced Nether-realm vision
You can assess the memory traces of objects and entities via nether-realm vision and tactile contact
You can sense soul sparks in ~75 meters radius
You can sense the sparks of the living, undead, minor spiritual beings, bound spirits, phantasms, genius loci, and some other spirits
You can sense concentrations of the Limbus energies, the thickness of the barrier, and traces of spirits from the material plane
You have gained the permanent +1 bonus to perception
You have gained the permanent +1 bonus to wisdom
You can scan the target's soul characteristics and receive advanced-depth results
You can try to smite a spirit
You can try to disperse a spirit
You can try to temporarily bind or scare off a singular lesser spiritual being
You can communicate with discovered spiritual beings
#3) ~Open affinity slot~
Your journal, a comfortable set of clothes, a plain dress, a custom-made set of lightened composite armor, an arming sword ("Holly"), a high-quality rondel ("Mercy"), a decorative blue ribbon, a silver necktie with a bounded spirit, superb leather harness.
Capable of crudely repairing clothes, making basic tailoring items like belts and patches, and producing low-effort/cost items like stuffed toys. Capable of applying first aid to prevent bleeding. Knows how to make and disinfect bandageware.
Ulren Kyres (aka Ren, aka Mountain boy)
Race: Bhiroth
Gender: Male
Age: 68
Background: mercenary, former soldier, outcast
Status: Healthy
Perk(s): "Not on my watch, not again" - shields Lucy from considerable harm in combat situations at own expense.
"I promise you that" - when in the same group as Lucifina, will make the second set of saving rolls to avoid critical health conditions.
"Odd kind of friendship" - when Ulren and Sephorah are fighting crowd-controllable enemies (not giants, flying creatures, etc.) in the same team, the one who makes the lowest total offensive or defensive score out of two can reroll that offensive or defensive roll set (only the highest score counts).
Attributes
Base value
Modified value
Total value
Dice bonus
Strength
21
+1
22
17
Constitution
21
+1
22
17
Mobility
14
-1
13
8
Perception
12
12
7
Coordination
15
15
10
Micromotorics
13
13
8
Intellect
14
14
9
Wisdom
18
18
13
Charisma
9
9
4
Luck
2
2
2
Misfortune
2
2
2
Skill
Attribute value
Learned value
Modified value
Total value / Dice bonus
Melee combat
9
9
18
Ranged combat
5
5
10
Arcane skill
6
6
Defense
10
10
20
Objects usage
6
3
9
Mounted combat
8
8
Willpower
6
-3
3
Balance
7
7
Sneaking
4
-5
-1
Reconnaissance
5
4
9
Persuasion
4
4
Intimidation
9
9
Haggle
3
3
Performance
3
3
Seduction
5
5
Geography lore
6
5
11
Nature lore
6
3
9
Arcane lore
6
6
Social and cultural lore
5
5
Craft lore
6
6
12
Lingual lore
5
5
Daily craft
6
4
10
Pharma and treatment
5
2
7
Weaponsmithing
6
6
12
Armorsmithing
6
6
12
Tailoring
3
3
Art
4
4
Artificery
5
7
12
Burglary
4
4
Huntsmanship
5
2
7
Alchemy
6
6
Sorcery
6
6
Unknown, but he demonstrated feats of great balance, stability, and hardiness. Perhaps, he might have an undiscovered arcane aspect bound.
A very worn half-plate armor set, worn set of clothes, a glaive, mechanical mace with spare heads, heater shield, hand crossbow, one quiver of bolts, enchanted amulet (+1 STR +1 CON - MOB)
Semi-proficient in the daily craft. Adept in smithing (martial-level weapons and armor). Proficient in artificiery (lesser contraptions). Expert in picking/maintaining war gear, and capable of minor mechanical upgrades of such. Knows the basics of hunting and skinning.
Sephorah of house Terphor (aka Seph, aka Sephie, aka Princess)
"Odd kind of friendship" - when Ulren and Sephorah are fighting crowd-controllable enemies (not giants, flying creatures, etc.) in the same team, the one who makes the lowest total offensive or defensive score out of two can reroll that offensive or defensive roll set (only the highest score counts).
Attributes
Base value
Modified value
Total value
Dice bonus
Strength
15
15
10
Constitution
15
15
10
Mobility
16
16
11
Perception
14
14
9
Coordination
18
18
13
Micromotorics
12
12
7
Intellect
14
14
9
Wisdom
12
12
7
Charisma
18
18
13
Luck
2
2
2
Misfortune
2
2
2
Skill
Attribute value
Learned value
Modified value
Total value / Dice bonus
Melee combat
7
6
1
14
Ranged combat
4
4
Arcane skill
4
4
Defense
6
5
2
13
Objects usage
4
5
9
Mounted combat
7
7
Willpower
4
4
Balance
8
8
16
Sneaking
7
8
15
Reconnaissance
4
4
8
Persuasion
6
5
11
Intimidation
7
7
Haggle
6
2
8
Performance
6
7
13
Seduction
8
7
15
Geography lore
4
4
Nature lore
4
4
Arcane lore
4
4
Social and cultural lore
5
6
11
Craft lore
3
3
Lingual lore
5
5
Daily craft
3
2
5
Pharma and treatment
4
4
Weaponsmithing
4
4
Armorsmithing
4
4
Tailoring
5
5
Art
5
5
Artificery
3
3
Burglary
4
6
10
Huntsmanship
6
6
Alchemy
4
4
Sorcery
4
4
Unknown if any. No signs of her having seeds of arcane aspects bound so far.
A set of clothes and undergarments, a superb set of compositive medium armor (manticore materials), a superb leather harness for bags and tools, a qualitative longsword "Ember", a parrying dagger, a quiver of tossing knives, a kit with burglar's tools.
You suspect she's incapable of legal manual labor aside from the bare basics of daily routines.
Karl Norskov (aka Mage, aka 'that' mage)
Race: Human (unknown heritage)
Gender: Male
Age: appears to be in the late thirties to early forties
Background: elementalist mage, major arcane enthusiast, disowned son of a noble family.
Status: Healthy
Perk(s):
"Old habits die hard" - when making an offensive arcane skill roll in combat and getting less or equal to four, reroll it (only the highest score counts). This perk also applies to combat rounds where Karl makes an arcane skill roll only for the defensive score.
Attributes
Base value
Modified value
Total value
Dice bonus
Strength
11
11
6
Constitution
11
11
6
Mobility
11
11
6
Perception
13
13
8
Coordination
10
10
5
Micromotorics
16
16
11
Intellect
20
20
15
Wisdom
16
16
11
Charisma
14
14
9
Luck
2
2
2
Misfortune
2
2
2
Skill
Attribute value
Learned value
Modified value
Total value / Dice bonus
Melee combat
1
1
Ranged combat
4
4
Arcane skill
8
9
17
Defense
1
2
3
Objects usage
5
5
10
Mounted combat
2
2
Willpower
7
6
-2
11
Balance
1
1
Sneaking
2
2
Reconnaissance
6
6
Persuation
7
7
Intimidation
2
2
Haggle
5
1
6
Performance
6
6
Seduction
3
3
Geography lore
7
7
Nature lore
7
7
Arcane lore
7
9
16
Social and cultural lore
8
5
13
Craft lore
8
8
Lingual lore
8
7
15
Daily craft
8
8
Pharma and treatment
9
9
Weaponsmithing
7
7
Armorsmithing
7
7
Tailorng
8
8
Art
6
6
Artificery
8
8
Burglary
7
7
Huntsmanship
3
3
Alchemy
9
9
Sorcery
8
3
11
#1) Conflagration and radiation level 7:
You have gained the permanent +1 bonus to strength.
You have gained the permanent +1 bonus to intellect.
Your casting in dry weather or nearby fire sources amplifies pyromancy.
You can regain mental strengths faster near the heat sources.
You can sense and read the heat sources in a vast area.
You can channel the arcane powers to temporarily amplify own physical strength.
Your spellcasting uses both mental and physical strengths or the varying proportions of such.
You can temporarily infuse objects (including tools and weapons) with pyromancy powers.
You can conjure heat on the intermediate level (sufficient to melt iron)
You can suppress and channel heat on the intermediate level (rays, waves, charges, orbs, tactile)
You passively gain +1 to arcane skill for every 3 points of STR above 10. This trait also applies -1 penalty to arcane skill for every 2 points of STR below 10. Does not apply in the case of arcane self-empowerment.
A worn set of travel clothes, a backpack, a grimoire (or a diary), an old pocket chornometer with a chain, an intricate smoking pipe
None you know about
Amalia Brant (aka Lia)
Race: Human (Eastlander)
Gender: Female
Age: Young adult
Background: Former maidservant
Status: Healthy
Perk(s): "Shipper on deck" - +3 To all social skill rolls against the companions with positive affection levels (neutrality affection level excluded). If previously gossiped with about other characters that she knows, can provide a one-time boost of +3 to all types of social interaction skill rolls to the requester.
Attributes
Base value
Modified value
Total value
Dice bonus
Strength
12
12
7
Constitution
15
15
10
Mobility
11
11
6
Perception
16
16
11
Coordination
12
12
7
Micromotorics
18
18
13
Intellect
12
12
7
Wisdom
20
20
15
Charisma
11
11
6
Luck
2
2
2
Misfortune
2
2
2
Skill
Attribute value
Learned value
Modified value
Total value / Dice bonus
Melee combat
2
2
Ranged combat
7
3
10
Arcane skill
5
5
Defense
4
1
5
Objects usage
7
3
10
Mounted combat
4
4
Willpower
8
3
11
Balance
2
2
Sneaking
4
4
Reconnaissance
7
7
Persuasion
5
5
Intimidation
4
4
Haggle
5
4
9
Performance
6
6
Seduction
3
3
Geography lore
8
2
10
Nature lore
8
8
Arcane lore
8
8
Social and cultural lore
6
2
8
Craft lore
8
3
11
Lingual lore
6
6
Daily craft
8
10
18
Pharma and treatment
7
7
Weaponsmithing
6
6
Armorsmithing
6
6
Tailoring
5
9
14
Art
7
3
10
Artificery
8
8
Burglary
7
7
Huntsmanship
7
7
Alchemy
7
7
Sorcery
6
6
Uknown if any
Leather camisole of fair quality, compositive crossbow, a quiver of bolts, a bag of small tools, a rucksack, a set of road clothes, a plain cloak, a knife, a belt water bag.
Master of daily craft and inventory management. Fairly good cook (specializes in fried snacks) and knows how to correctly ration different foods. Good tailor, capable of qualitative repair of clothes and production of professional effort/materials goods like suits and dresses. Her designs lean towards practicality rather than fanciness.
Isaac
Race: Human (unknown heritage)
Gender: Male
Age: Young adult
Background: Healer apprentice
Status: Healthy
Perk(s): "We are of one blood" - Any non-hostile actions towards animals or beast folk have +4 bonus to attributes or skill rolls. Can use WIS instead of CHA for interactions with animals and beast folk (aka empathetic approach).
Attributes
Base value
Modified value
Total value
Dice bonus
Strength
13
13
8
Constitution
15
15
10
Mobility
12
12
7
Perception
14
14
9
Coordination
10
10
5
Micromotorics
17
17
12
Intellect
15
15
10
Wisdom
14
14
9
Charisma
7
7
2
Luck
2
2
2
Misfortune
2
2
2
Skill
Attribute value
Learned value
Modified value
Total value / Dice bonus
Melee combat
2
-5
-3
Ranged combat
5
-5
0
Arcane skill
6
6
12
Defense
4
1
5
Objects usage
6
-5
1
Mounted combat
3
-7
-4
Willpower
5
7
12
Balance
2
2
Sneaking
2
2
Reconnaissance
5
5
Persuasion
1
1
Intimidation
3
3
Haggle
1
1
Performance
2
2
Seduction
1
1
Geography lore
5
5
Nature lore
5
2
7
Arcane lore
5
5
10
Social and cultural lore
3
3
Craft lore
6
6
Lingual lore
3
3
Daily craft
6
3
9
Pharma and treatment
6
7
13
Weaponsmithing
6
6
Armorsmithing
7
7
Tailoring
5
5
Art
4
4
Artificery
7
7
Burglary
7
7
Huntsmanship
3
3
Alchemy
6
6
Sorcery
5
5
#1) Body level 5:
You can sense breathing and blood pulse of living entities in ~100 meters radius.
You gain the permanent +1 bonus to constitution.
You gain the permanent +1 bonus to charisma
You can scan the detailed physiological state of a target in many details including sicknesses, inflammations, as well as the state of physical integrity.
You can make an attempt for a minuscule boost of the physical performance of oneself or a target at the cost of own mental strengths.
You can accelerate the metabolism (and so, often times, the recovery from ailments or traumas) of living creatures at the cost of own mental and physical strengths.
You can try to numb the minor pain of a target living creature at the cost of both mental and physical strengths or share it with yourself with the low transference loss ratio
A robe with a hood, a bag with bandages and medications, an old iron amulet, a belt with tincures
Good at applying and synthesizing remedies. Capable of providing first and complex medical aid. Has some skills in inventory management.
Jorgen Ostgard (aka Jory, aka Craven)
Race: Human (Lyflander?)
Gender: Male
Age: Young adult
Background: Alchemist assistant
Status: Healthy
Attributes
Base value
Modified value
Total value
Dice bonus
Strength
11
11
6
Constitution
11
11
6
Mobility
12
12
7
Perception
18
18
13
Coordination
12
12
7
Micromotorics
15
15
10
Intellect
16
16
11
Wisdom
13
13
8
Charisma
9
9
4
Luck
2
2
2
Misfortune
2
2
2
Skill
Attribute value
Learned value
Modified value
Total value / Dice bonus
Melee combat
2
2
Ranged combat
6
1
7
Arcane skill
5
5
Defense
2
2
Objects usage
6
4
10
Mounted combat
3
3
Willpower
6
6
Balance
2
2
Sneaking
5
4
9
Reconnaissance
7
5
12
Persuation
2
2
Intimidation
1
1
Haggle
3
3
Performance
2
2
Seduction
1
1
Geography lore
6
6
Nature lore
6
4
10
Arcane lore
6
3
9
Social and cultural lore
4
4
Craft lore
5
6
11
Lingual lore
4
4
Daily craft
5
3
8
Pharma and treatment
6
6
Weaponsmithing
5
5
Armorsmithing
5
5
Tailoring
5
5
Art
3
3
Artificery
6
6
Burglary
7
7
Huntsmanship
6
6
Alchemy
6
6
12
Sorcery
6
6
Unknown if any
A robe with a hood, a traveling cane, a bag with small instruments, a belt with glasses, a rucksack
Good at synthesizing remedies or other compounds from both organic and inorganic ingredients. Fairly good at understanding how chemistry works and has an eye for experimentation. Capable of locating and recognizing substances. Has basic skills in inventory management and knows a thing or two about craftworks.
General condition:High morale, everyone's healthy, two weeks worth of food supplies, sufficiently-budgeted, low on alchemic reagents. Money: 1081 Talers Food: 82 food units (9 full days of sustenance on Bloom 28) Food consumption: 8.5 food units per day
The fun thing is, a "holy" hand grenade (aka thaumaturgic expendable charge) is absolutely possible in this setting, albeit it will require high tinkering and sorcery skills instead of middling tinkering and alchemy.
.......That was beautiful!!!
Lucy getting more flight practice and we're almost reaching a new tier of magic. We're so close to exploding holy/thaumaturgy swords I can taste it!!!
Ulren and Seph bonding and acting like carefree youngsters(they're in their late 20s but Jung considers anyone under 40 young and I agree) and the reveal of Seph's new sword being named is all the heartwarming stuff I needed for the month.
Man, thank goodness for Lucy's journal or Amalia would have missed out on so much good material!!
You're doing your best Jorgen, keep it up our prospective alchemist/bomb-maker!!
While Karl just chills like the Sherlock/Bennedict Cumberbatch lookalike that he is, odd there was no mention of Isaac though.
Although the voting was closed, I agree I want to look through Eljidey's stuff as he was the most mysterious of the bunch so far and I agree to bring along Amalia for her overall skills.
Yeah, damn real-life responsibilities keeping me from this quest!!!
@Teloch Thank you as always for the good story, great lore, and spoiling us with two-week updates!!
8-th aspect proficiency tier is right after the "equator" of the journey through an aspect, and is equal to the "maturity" stage. Aka, things only escalate from there in many ways even on the caster's biological level
With your wings restrained under the accursed faux backpack wrapping and prohibited from weaving spells to avoid drawing possible attention, you sat in a thicket hiding spot, killing time in the company of the group's backpacks and Amalia. It has been two days since you left Tevon-Talab with this small group, and even though you fancy yourself accustomed to life on the road, you could only describe this Inga-guided march as brutal. Exploiting her knowledge of the land and shelter-fit spots, you covered twice as much distance as you would have only with your team. But, due to breaking overnight camps without cooking anything, waking up early to hit the road as soon as possible, and generally having fewer conversations due to Inga's nervousness, your opinion on your band's usual travel "style" shifted toward that of relative luxury.
Perhaps, Ren also shared your current sentiment - even though, true to himself, he didn't once complain about this trip to Kheree's abandoned station, you could make out the hints of discomfort on his typical "I'm fine" facade. Yet, perhaps unsurprisingly, it was Amalia who took this forced march the best from your side of the team. So much so that she even managed to trick Inga out of her tense, nervous shell for an hour or two in a few instances. But now, Amalia was "catching up" on her share of worries, sitting next to you while coddling her crossbow like a mother would do to her child. Her warm hazel eyes stared into distant nothingness while the both of you waited for Inga and Ren to return with the scouting intel from around the kheree's keep.
"Are you worried?" You disturbed the silence to liven up the scene at least a little, "About Inga finding tracks, repaired hunting traps, and the chance we'd have to fight our way in."
Delaying her answer, she first looked down at the crossbow that Ulren made for her. "You know, it's pretty fun shooting from it at old buckets serving as targets, but having to shoot something living isn't a fun idea at all," her voice carried vibes of either awkwardness or uncertainty, "although the idea of not doing so and risking to lose friends sounds even worse... So there's that."
Thinking back about it, from the earliest days you could reliably recall, you either observed or were involved in so many violent events that even having a chunk of ordinary life as Rosaline's protege didn't completely override that early desensitization. Amalia, whose experiences involved fewer city mass assault cases and attacks of bloodthirsty abominations than you, must have struggled to reconcile with the thought of being pressed into acting violently.
"But hey - we're safe here with you!" She continued before you scrambled for any words, oddly enough thinking about the same topic as you, "With your magic and presences-sensing and all that, I mean. So, if the outpost would end up being occupied by a less-than-welcoming bunch, we might still figure something out with your help, right?"
"There is no way of knowing that, or even if it would boil down to it until our actual combatants return," You answered, somewhat embarrassed by the credit non-practitioners give to your magic ability. "Although be it due to the persistent rain-saturated weather or some other factors, my spells have been either fizzling out or giving me tickles of late. That said, I'm not looking forward to experiencing something like this in a combat scenario."
"Have you... tried talking to Karl about this?" She asked you with a genuinely concerned face, "he might not be the best company in general, but I'm certain he'd tell you everything even remotely relevant if it's about magic."
Not the best company? Does she...A thought flashed in your mind like a lightning bolt. "Say, you seem to know him the best from our entire group. Did you notice something weird in his behavior recently?"
"Something strange?" She gave you an amused glance, "Nay - he has always been like this. It was rather odd of him to hit a "placid" streak before you arrived at Dalgaard estate and on our journey to Tevon, which gave me hope he might have finally got over his burden, but no - he just returned to his older self recently."
"His burden? Your choice of the word hints there's a story there. And I can't help but notice him avoiding you for whatever reason."
"There is one, indeed, but..." Amalia sighed, paused, and lowered her shoulders, unbeknownst hugging the crossbow's stock a bit tighter. "Not to give credence to his claims that I hate his guts and am all too eager to slander him, I'll just say we have... conflicting takes on philosophy, one may say. He had a way too tumultuous youth, even for nobles' standards, which ultimately - and at large deservedly - cost him so much that the only thing he has left nowadays to wake him up in the mornings is the question regarding the nature of the magically-gifted people."
Just as your body prepared to gesture away mild confusion, Amalia continued: "It does sound normal, as people often can't move on and grow without finding closure to the questions life loads them with, but Karl's issue is that even if he finds one or the other answer, it won't give him the foundation to build his future on. If anything, it will, after a moment or two of self-indulgence, rid him of the last reason to live. I hoped he would see it as the fool's journey and find the courage to turn a new leaf, but there are cases when even I can't keep a candle for others indefinitely. This, he also knows."
You thought of responding with something, but the surge of recollections from the times you had to yank the demonic corruption out of Karl's soul and stabilize it, made your mind frantically race with theories of what can his deal be and if there's even a chance you could expedite his salvation from himself. Registering the demise of the dialogue, Amalia steered the conversation to the smoother tides: "As unpleasant as he can be, rest assured you can count on him if there is anything magic-related you need a counsel for; and if he, for whatever reason, causes you troubles, you can always count on me to remind him of proper manners~."
"Thank you, Lia; I'll consider it. You really know people well," you replied, smiling warmly and brightening your interlocutor. "But now that we brushed on this topic, I'm curious what you think about how our group members are faring. I reckon we haven't discussed it much since the road to Tevon."
The offer that fell from your lips had an effect of a sour candy when applied to your company: Amalia's eyes glimmered with green, mischievous sparkles. "Oh my, are you asking for us to gossip while the rest of our team is out spying?"
"To gossip?!" You repeated the suggestions, frowning in a rather dramatic scene of indignation that dissipated as quickly as it appeared as you had nothing to refute with. "Well, yes - I guess that is technically gossiping. But don't give me that catty look: what you told me about Karl also qualifies as such, and I didn't even butter you to go on a disclosure spree~."
Still, with that smug look on her face, she leaned toward you to give a playful nudge with her shoulder, "Well, I be damned: I now must seek out the ferret that taught you to be so dodgy and deny them their favorite dish for a month." After saying that, she leaned even closer and whispered to your ear: "I thought you'd never ask," before regaining the upright pose and following up: "someone in particular, or..."
"Oh? No - it's just your general thoughts that I'm interested in. Without a doubt, the last week was rich in events that made us nervous about others, and, to be frank, it doesn't feel like all of us are the same as we were even when leaving Baathor behind, much less Kirhol."
Like a cat finding a sweet, warm spot under the spring sun, Amalia relaxed and leaned against the little hill of the group's backpacks, ceasing the mildly-nervous yoinking of her crossbow. "Ah! I get what you mean," she said, looking up at you, "I'm still somewhat angry at him for doing something this stupid and otherwise lethal on top of making me worried sick, but in truth, Jory needed something like this to happen."
Anxious to interrupt the now-winded flow of Amalia's thoughts, you made yourself comfortable on the bags just like your interlocutor, quietly anticipating what now looked like a flow of insights harvested from a rather unique perspective.
"If there is something that unites most of the Heim's numerous cultures, it's the concept of the rite of passage. All civilizations have their younglings, and because of this, youth always needs to have their first brush against worldly challenges, from which they would learn about the world and, more importantly - themselves. A tribe or immediate family normally arranges this. Yet, for reasons mostly beyond his control, Jory had no one to prepare him for the passing into adulthood nor meet him on the other side. And you know the rest: he spent years upon years in this odd liminal state of clinging to whatever humble existence he managed to clutch to as a disowned, untested, and unconfirmed adult."
She gave you a short glance, possibly verifying if you were still listening, before continuing: "But like it often happens, the world put everything in its place, having him make judgment calls and endure their consequences in this sudden escapade of his. So, in a way, he unknowingly walked himself into the proxy rite of passage, fortunately, stuck through it and even got acknowledged."
"Say, it didn't slip past you how abruptly Ulren warmed up to him?"
"Indeed: even though Ulren, for the past month, has been getting relatively more sociable, this overnight change of his attitude caught me by surprise." You saw the flickers of genuine amazement in Amalia's eyes, "Like, I did fancy how such a scenario might have been great, but it didn't seem particularly plausible, considering how poorly they started off as soon as we departed Kirhol. Yet, look at them now - making these volatile pots together!" She cautiously waved her hand over the round shape of the freshly-tinkered bomb, which you took on the sortie to even out the odds in unfavorable situations.
"As weird as it was seeing them working together as if there was no bad blood whatsoever, it was, in a way, a pleasant sight and one less headache for the group. Albeit, I'm still curious how it boiled to that."
"My bid's on Ulren's prominent fatherly side causing him to substitute Jory's actual father in acknowledging him as a freshly-tested young man. His officer background, penchant for quiet but effective care for others, and how he treats you and Dalgaards are all signs of this. I'm almost adamant about him becoming a stupendous father for his own children should he settle down. Guess the main problem is in getting him to that point somehow."
At first, you were about to ask a specifying question. Yet, your stirred mind made an involuntary dash to the recollections of the "child-making" sequence Sephie vaguely explained to you and the elements of which you might have read of in that gross "Carmine Sails" book from the most secluded section of Rosaline's library. You heard Lia keeping on talking, but you stopped making out her words as the focus of your attention shifted to the erupting vulcano of repugnance and inner protest against the mere assumption of someone as dear as Ren doing something as gross as... Eugh! The mere thought made you shiver.
"Hey, Lucy, are you alright?" you began to regain your faculties only after feeling Lia's hand shaking your shoulder and hearing her concerned voice; as she broke this spell, your self-registered hugging yourself half-helplessly and half-defensively. If only your wings weren't restrained by the accursed leather wrap, you probably would've cocooned yourself, too.
"Oh, I beg your pardon - it's just a... uh... a random troubling thought that struck me out for a moment," you muttered while recovering from the self-imposed mild shock.
"Are... you sure? You suddenly turned kind of pale..."
You barely managed to swallow the sharp "NO!" before it could slip your tongue, replacing it with a much more amicable "It's nothing - just a dumb unrealistic scenario that should not have entered my mind in the first place." Yes - just a stupid thought of something absolutely not happening: this self-convincing notion made you bounce back to the state of the cognitive balance. "I'm sorry, but can you repeat yourself once again?"
"Of course," Amalia reassumed her resting pose after verifying your state, "Like I said, in sharp contrast to Karl, Jory seems ignited with what he can pursue now and to which ends. This makes this sudden new dynamic between him and Ulren so valuable because, as a new role model, Urlen might teach him how not to perish in this world. In return, Jory might rub some jovial sincerity into Ulren. Because of this, I'm the least worried about these two, as I believe them being on a good path. Although, we still should keep an eye on them as incidents are guaranteed when boys are resigned to being boys, and the last thing we need is them blowing up themselves, us, or any possessions."
"If not any of them, then who is on the opposite side of your scales of concern?"
"Well..." a brief but pronounced shade of pensiveness darkened Amalia's otherwise nonchalant face like a sudden springtime rainstorm, "I might be growing a bit paranoid in Isaac's regard and somewhat antsy about Sephorah."
You could get a vague idea of why Sephie would be considered a potential troublemaker, but Isaac? You haven't even noticed how one of your brows rose, making for a silent response.
"You see - unlike the rest of us, Isaac has a place and family where he belongs. The main reason he's with us now is because Claudius asked Ulren to take Isaac away from Kirhol and the threat of a repeated attack. In truth, Isaac had never left Kirhol and its surroundings before; the taste of the real world outside Lyf kingdom's comfort and safety might be an overwhelming experience for him in many ways."
'Might'? Amalia's uncommon uncertainty made you raise the other eyebrow, which your interlocutor didn't overlook.
"And I say "might" because Isaac grew up into someone who would sooner be destroyed by misery than bother others about it. And his... peculiarity doesn't make understanding what is going on with him any simpler. I'm not saying there is anything about him right now that needs our urgent intervention or anything, but that we need to somehow build better rapport with him not to overlook the signs of his possible growing distress."
"Yes, I've got the same feeling in his regard, more or less," you said, "But what about Sephie? Why do you think she's the most troubled?"
Amalia sighed heavily as any maid would before undertaking some chore at the magnitude of laundering tall window curtains. "I'm sometimes astonished how everything about her either appears or becomes difficult. Not sure if it would be any news for you, but for a long time until very recently, she wasn't precisely trusting us, preferring to stay safe behind her fiends-may-care rogue facade, only involuntarily having her actual self spill through the cracks in it from time to time. Additionally, given how she never told us any details of her life after arriving at Pheotor, there is surely a hefty reason why she is simultaneously aloof and strained like a lute's string at all times."
You stopped yourself a moment short from announcing Sephie confiding in you and even Ren out of fear of interrupting Amalia's insights spree. Although, it was weird knowing that she didn't open up to Lia yet.
"But it changed drastically by the time we reached Tevon. It seems like she finally put her trust in us. So now, she shows her character more freely, and the nature of the questions and thoughts she shared with me of late makes me suspect she might have a growing urge to be openly accepted, cherished, and even loved. It is as if it would fill that part of her that might have been deprived for years. But it also feels like she either doesn't fully realize it herself or even struggles against this desire in case she does. This fickleness, combined with her underlying emotionality and proclivity to recklessness, feed my anxiety of her deciding to win us over via less than subtle attempts, which may achieve the opposite and cause her to shutter in herself again."
You were about to throw a cocky question of the "What should we do about her, then?" type but suppressed it. After all, her impressions and musings were eerily precise, supporting and coalescing with your own knowledge like a finely-made church's stained glass, thus also giving a solid basis to predict future developments.
"Perhaps some advice would do," Amalia muttered through your musings as if to herself, "but nothing warranting for an involvement excuse happened yet... Eeh."
"Hey, Lia," you shot down her stream of rumblings in an abrupt manner, almost recoiling the girl, "I can't help but think Inga might have got a soft spot for you ever since that search and recovery gig we did, and you spent the most time of us all hanging with her on the way here."
Knowing you too well, she tilted her head to the side and pried her mouth slightly open, anticipating the gist of what she perceived as a request.
"I'm adamant you know her better than any of us, so do you suppose we can trust her enough for me to..."
"I believe so," she answered well before you voiced the subject of your inquiry, "She is going through much darker times right now to be startled by the unusual appearance of someone who might as well be her last hope. Fixing or at least preventing everything she knows from coming apart leaves little room for other worries."
"That... makes sense, actually," you mumbled while your eyes widened due to the vestiges of excitement, "On top of that, she spilled to us what she tried to suppress even from herself, and this made me feel bad for keeping such a trifle "secret" from her."
"Honestly, there's a chance it isn't even a secret anymore," Amalia commented dryly, "Her eyes were almost glued to your back by the end of our first day on this route, but the next day, all her poorly-camouflaged curiosity evaporated like morning dew. Perhaps, she peeked into the tent to check up on us and saw everything, or maybe her mind was occupied by more pressing issues the next day forth. It's hard to tell."
"I... I see," you murmured and, due to some premonition-like feeling, took a moment to comb the surroundings for the presence of any souls; aside from Amalia, yourself, and small wildlife, there weren't any in the proximity.
"To be completely honest, Lia, this entire masquerade we undergo around strangers makes me doubt more and more. I understand that whoever is after us would have an easier time catching our whiff, but... Once this is all over, would I even be able to live a regular life among people? Are my wings that intimidating-looking as to make people think of me as some possible threat? Or do people think of them - and myself - as hideous?" With each word, more and more sadness seeped into your voice. After all, these stupid leather wrappers around your wings hurt you not only physically, so by the time the last word slipped from your lips, you found yourself uncomfortably close to breaking out tears.
"I knew you would eventually say something like this," Amalia babbled while relocating her resting spot next to you, "First - throw this rubbish out of your head: you are a rarely pretty and neat girl with the wings only accentuating and reinforcing it. If we were living our routine lives at Kirhol, you already would've had the headache of having a quarter - if not a half - of all the men accustomed to your uniqueness vying for your favor and attention."
Amalia lowering beside you to give a reassuring squeeze was a boon, as this distraction prevented your restless mind from digging into that topic again.
"And as for how strangers would react to your uncovered self... It's not black and white. Can you go around unbothered with all your visage exposed? Not somewhere in Eastern Kingdoms or Westlands. Arguably, not even Blugd-Tur, as landers living in this domain are eagerly suspicious of anything unfamiliar and are convinced to take anything unknown as a threat. Jory gave you this treatment before, so you know how it works. Meanwhile, you are unlikely to be singled out and chased in places with better-educated inhabitants or frequented by foreigners. So, in Eiborea, Frisenburgh, and certain parts of Lyf, you will likely be treated just like anyone else once the novelty of your looks wears down."
"You think?" There was a faint hope in your voice, resonating with the promise of a prospect of having a semblance of everyday social life in the kingdom you still considered your home.
"Yes. And even more - something tells me that roths and alvizians may give you slack, unlike landers, whom you resemble closer. Remember how Hjorn reacted to Ulren introducing you? I swear - his confusion was even shorter than Karl's struggle against a bottle of wine or a dope roll."
"Are you implying if everything else fails, I may try finding a home in Nyth-Rhathon or Ebong..."
"Of course not, you silly goose!" Amalia cut you abruptly, "I'm just saying elder races seem less wary of unfamiliar things and people. Perhaps, stacking extra decades of life experience or being like walking mountains compared to us has something to do with how they perceive risks."
"Oh, I got it," you replied and grinned wryly. Even though Amalia's take on your questions didn't entirely support your desire to go around with exposed wings wherever and whenever, this little confiding partially relieved you of the insecurity that slowly built up. Yet, your attempt to thank your friend for lending you an ear was thwarted by the sensation of two souls entering your senses radius: Inga was returning to your hideout through the fresh springtime thicket, with Ulren right behind her.
Almost Instinctively, you stood up and turned around to face the returning party. And sure enough, Inga's shape emerged from the bushes, with the look of her ice-blue eyes betraying the busy-hustling gait and body language: she wasn't pleased.
"Look alive, girls!" She said in a bossy voice, "As I thought, the place is now occupied by some roamers." There was little regret or disappointment in her voice but plenty of that particular asking-for-a-fight boisterousness, suggesting she made her mind about the problem already.
Just as she spoke that, Ulren's armored frame emerged from the same direction Inga appeared; the look on his face was... mildly confused in a manner one would be if woken up in the middle of the night and told to run into the streets with but a night potty for clothes.
"Did you manage to get close enough to grasp the situation?" Amalia asked Inga while standing up for what appears to be the brewing operative council.
"No, unfortunately: the place is unapproachable because the spot for this outpost was picked by Aelfstan - a battlement architect from Olfadir, who fled to Blugd-Tur when his employers decided to "mute" him and his family after the completion of his works for "safety" reasons. A thorough and clever bastard he was; too bad his guts failed him not even ten winters after arriving at Tevon. But I did gather some insights."
"You haven't told me about the gear of the sentry that you saw," Ulren injected, proving your suspicions of Inga barely drip-feeding him information on their way back.
"I could not see it clearly due to the distance, but he seemed to hold an equivalent of the long bow - either hunting or war one - and was clad in a protective camisole. A rather light one, from what I could see."
"Were you seen by them? The way you stormed back made me believe you might have been in trouble," came your turn to interrogate.
"Doubt it. Otherwise, that one might be the worst lookout man in the whole North if they saw us and did a rat's fart instead of alerting the outpost." Inga shifted her considerable weight on the other leg, clearly not finished speaking, "But there's bad news: while getting to the closest safe-ish vantage point, I saw piles of dog turd, including fresh ones, meaning they have hounds, whom they occasionally release. This also means our spot is compromised when the dogs are released and pick our scents. However we'll approach it, we can't afford to sit on our hands until dusk."
"Anything else you noticed?" Ulren tried for more details.
"Yes - while the condition of the watchtower is about as decrepit as one would expect from construction with years of no maintenance, the palisades are partially repaired, and they even tried reusing our older wolf pits, meaning they are somewhat organized, arrived here maybe a moon or two ago, and plan to stay here for longer."
"Also..." She wiped her nose nervously before continuing, "There were three smokes pillars. Assuming two were rising from the barracks' fireplaces and one from the outdoor campfire, there is anything between one and two dozen noses behind the walls."
This... doesn't sound good as you begin to measure the odds. A quick glimpse at Ulren revealed his face to be frowning, too, but in a somewhat puzzled way instead of disheartened or resolute. Amalia's hazel eyes were darting rapidly as she hastily processed the provided information.
"There are no convenient vantage points that would allow for a suitable sharpshooting nest, little one," Inga used the lack of everyone else's initiative to address Amalia, "We will have to take you with us to cover our backs during the assault since leaving you behind and alone is a sure way for their hounds to slip by and rend you."
Amalia shivered to this statement, but her reply was entirely different: "Assault? But... do we even know who they are? Maybe they are not bandits or the like, making us the actual raiders if we attack. Would it be unusual for local tribes to occupy what they presumed to be an abandoned outpost for its security?"
Inga's eyes widened for a moment only to produce an annoyed squint a heartbeat later, "It actually would: one of this land's unwritten laws states that one squatting in abandoned places must be prepared to face both who occupied it before them and what caused it to get abandoned. Regardless of what we do to them, we are in the right here!"
"Something doesn't add up," Ulren stated, "a dozen and a half men would have more than enough presence to run the defenses. Yet, there is a single sentry and plenty of work undone."
"Are you implying they are way fewer?" Inga threw a skeptical look at Ulren.
"Perhaps. Or they might be leaning on the lousier side of the loiterers' spectrum, being small-time marauders tops. Or, as Amalia said, they might be something entirely different. In any case, the main obstacle is the palisade wall. Any ideas?"
"We have two - or rather one and a half - crossbows on our hands," Inga immediately lept on the chance to offer her plan of actions, not without teasing Ulren's offhand choice, "I say we move as a single group but in two waves, try to sneak close enough for a clear shot at the sentry, and then, if we take the watchman out, quickly throw the girls over the gates to have them opened for us."
"We took a bomb with us just in case. Can't imagine the better case to use it if all else fails," Ulren commented with a mild vibe of interest.
"All else?" Inga was not amused, and not because of the bomb part.
"I... can try to sabotage their defenses from the inside, or, maybe, use some terror tactics to smoke them out..." You pondered out loud, attracting Ulren's silent "what are you doing?!" stare that almost felt like him yoinking you by the shoulder.
"And how exactly are you planning to fly behind the wall?" Inga's question startled you briefly, but you recollected yourself and answered calmly: "told you I'm a mage - there are some tricks on my mind I'm itching to try." You did not technically lie: those two white tricks on your back did itch for some hours now. And once Inga raised her eyebrows but said nothing, you saw Ulren's shoulders relax a bit.
"Yes - our mage can conjure warding spheres to protect us from arrows, meaning whoever is in that fort will have no advantage should they want to harm us. So... perhaps we can try to, you know, negotiate before doing anything we might regret?"
This last suggestion didn't sit well with Inga's urge to retake her group's outpost, as evident from the gaze that she quietly trained at you while expecting your verdict. Not even a moment as her bright cold eyes stared through you, Amalia and Ulren followed the suite, increasingly nervous and mildly curious, respectively. As the three sets of eyes buried in you anticipatingly, you wondered if this was the prerogative warranted by being a tactical linchpin.
A faint notion glimmered in your mind: how much easier it would've been if Sephie had been around to do her sneaky part and spy out what exactly you were facing?
_________________________
Outpost's challenge: ??? team offense effort, ??? team defense effort
Fighting styles for the encounter:
[locked] Ulren: melee skill roll, defense skill roll, luck roll OR 1/2 melee skill roll + 1/2 ranged skill roll, defense skill roll, luck roll [locked] Inga: melee skill roll, defense roll, bonus 1d7 melee skill roll if defense skill roll >= 13, luck roll [locked] Amalia: ranged skill roll, 1/2 defense skill roll, luck roll [] Lucifina:
-[] Physical: melee skill roll, defense skill roll, luck roll -[] Mixed: 1/2 melee skill roll + 1/2 arcane skill roll, defense skill roll, luck roll, -4 target offense and defense requirements -[] Arcane offensive: arcane skill roll (offense), 1/2 arcane skill roll (defense), luck roll -[] Arcane defensive: 1/2 arcane skill roll (offense), arcane skill roll (defense), luck roll
Approach:
[] Head-on assault(Lucy's easy (17) arcane skill check, Lucy's luck roll, Amalia's very easy (14) objects usage skill check, Amalia's luck roll, consumes the bomb, sets of fighting rolls ensue)
-[] Lethal (??? team offense req., ??? team defense req.)
-[] Less lethal (??? team offense req., ??? team defense req.)
[] Snipe and infiltration(Amalia's normal (20) sneaking skill check, Amalia's normal (20) ranged skill check, Amalia's luck roll, Lucy's normal (20) sneaking check, Lucy's luck roll, Amalia's strength attribute roll + 1/2 Lucy's strength attribute roll VS 16, if fails, series of combat rolls ensue and the bomb is consumed. Lethal only)
[] Flight and infiltration(Wings exposure, Lucy's normal (16) strength attribute check, Lucy's normal (16) mobility attribute check, Lucy's luck roll, if fails, set of combat rolls ensue and the bomb is consumed)
-[] Lethal (??? team offense req., ??? team defense req.)
-[] Less lethal (??? team offense req., ??? team defense req.)
[] Expulsion by terror tactics(Wings exposure, Lucy's hard (24) arcane skill check, Lucy's luck roll, if fails, set of combat rolls ensue, and the bomb is consumed)
-[] Lethal (??? team offense req., ??? team defense req.)
-[] Less lethal (??? team offense req., ??? team defense req.)
[] Persuasive diplomacy(Lucy's persuasion skill roll, if fails, Lucy's intimidation skill roll, Lucy's luck roll. In the case of Lucy's low rolls, Inga has a high chance of interfering with her persuasion or intimidation attempts with a luck roll. If all fails, a set of combat rolls ensues, and the bomb is consumed)
-[] Lethal (??? team offense req., ??? team defense req.)
-[] Less lethal (??? team offense req., ??? team defense req.)
[] Threatening diplomacy(Lucy's two intimidation skill rolls, Lucy's luck roll. If fail, a set of combat rolls ensues, and the bomb is consumed)
-[] Lethal (??? team offense req., ??? team defense req.)
-[] Less lethal (??? team offense req., ??? team defense req.)
[] Write-in approach(Subject to either assigning rolls or discarding as unfeasible)
Am not good at complex mechanics, picking what seems like the interesting and in char options rather than optimal. If someone has a better plan, definitely post tho, this is just to get started.
[X] Flight and infiltration(Wings exposure, Lucy's normal (16) strength attribute check, Lucy's normal (16) mobility attribute check, Lucy's luck roll, if fails, set of combat rolls ensue and the bomb is consumed)
-[X] Lethal (??? team offense req., ??? team defense req.)
Either way, if a wing exposure strategy doesn't win i suggest. [x] Reveal Inga our wings before combat, and go into combat with wings exposed for extra mobility/defense/intimidation.
Since i'm a sucker for Luci flaunting her wings
[X] Persuasive diplomacy (Lucy's persuasion skill roll, if fails, Lucy's intimidation skill roll, Lucy's luck roll. In the case of Lucy's low rolls, Inga has a high chance of interfering with her persuasion or intimidation attempts with a luck roll. If all fails, a set of combat rolls ensues, and the bomb is consumed)
-[X] Less lethal (??? team offense req., ??? team defense req.)
Amalia has a point. Lucifina is good at persuasion and trying to avoid unnecessary killing in a world where there are real ghosts seems reasonable. Especially for someone who regularly deals with the spirit world.
[X] Persuasive diplomacy (Lucy's persuasion skill roll, if fails, Lucy's intimidation skill roll, Lucy's luck roll. In the case of Lucy's low rolls, Inga has a high chance of interfering with her persuasion or intimidation attempts with a luck roll. If all fails, a set of combat rolls ensues, and the bomb is consumed)
-[X] Less lethal (??? team offense req., ??? team defense req.)
[X] Persuasive diplomacy (Lucy's persuasion skill roll, if fails, Lucy's intimidation skill roll, Lucy's luck roll. In the case of Lucy's low rolls, Inga has a high chance of interfering with her persuasion or intimidation attempts with a luck roll. If all fails, a set of combat rolls ensues, and the bomb is consumed)
-[X] Less lethal (??? team offense req., ??? team defense req.)
[X] Lucifina:
-[X] Arcane defensive: 1/2 arcane skill roll (offense), arcane skill roll (defense), luck roll
[X] Flight and infiltration (Wings exposure, Lucy's normal (16) strength attribute check, Lucy's normal (16) mobility attribute check, Lucy's luck roll, if fails, set of combat rolls ensue and the bomb is consumed)
-[X] Less lethal (??? team offense req., ??? team defense req.)
[X] Lucifina:
-[X] Arcane defensive: 1/2 arcane skill roll (offense), arcane skill roll (defense), luck roll
I think Ulren has a point, they aren't arrayed as combatants, that says to me relative noncombatant travelers who don't know the local customs and took shelter.
Even bandits wouldn't have defenses this poorly manned.
Lets make sure we aren't gunning down refugees or something first.
[X] Persuasive diplomacy (Lucy's persuasion skill roll, if fails, Lucy's intimidation skill roll, Lucy's luck roll. In the case of Lucy's low rolls, Inga has a high chance of interfering with her persuasion or intimidation attempts with a luck roll. If all fails, a set of combat rolls ensues, and the bomb is consumed)
-[X] Less lethal (??? team offense req., ??? team defense req.)
-[x] Mixed: 1/2 melee skill roll + 1/2 arcane skill roll, defense skill roll, luck roll, -4 target offense and defense requirements
Scheduled vote count started by Teloch on Aug 23, 2023 at 8:01 AM, finished with 7 posts and 6 votes.
[X] Persuasive diplomacy (Lucy's persuasion skill roll, if fails, Lucy's intimidation skill roll, Lucy's luck roll. In the case of Lucy's low rolls, Inga has a high chance of interfering with her persuasion or intimidation attempts with a luck roll. If all fails, a set of combat rolls ensues, and the bomb is consumed)
-[X] Less lethal (??? team offense req., ??? team defense req.)
[X] Flight and infiltration(Wings exposure, Lucy's normal (16) strength attribute check, Lucy's normal (16) mobility attribute check, Lucy's luck roll, if fails, set of combat rolls ensue and the bomb is consumed)
-[X] Lethal (??? team offense req., ??? team defense req.)
[X] Flight and infiltration(Wings exposure, Lucy's normal (16) strength attribute check, Lucy's normal (16) mobility attribute check, Lucy's luck roll, if fails, set of combat rolls ensue and the bomb is consumed)
-[X] Less lethal (??? team offense req., ??? team defense req.)
[X] Persuasive diplomacy (Lucy's persuasion skill roll, if fails, Lucy's intimidation skill roll, Lucy's luck roll. In the case of Lucy's low rolls, Inga has a high chance of interfering with her persuasion or intimidation attempts with a luck roll. If all fails, a set of combat rolls ensues, and the bomb is consumed)
-[X] Less lethal (??? team offense req., ??? team defense req.) -[X] Mixed: 1/2 melee skill roll + 1/2 arcane skill roll, defense skill roll, luck roll, -4 target offense and defense requirements
Verdict: well... combined, Lucy's tongue and Inga's... angry aura (I guess) managed to scrape by for a somewhat peaceful resolution. Lucy stopped short of one single persuasion facet to do it herself, almost sabotaged the whole attempt rolling just one single facet above misfortune range, and then, Inga turned out to be so unconvincing that it actually caused the occupants to cut Lucy a slack. Wow, just wow.
Weighting the options, you shook your head at Inga. "We at least must try talking first," momentarily, you tilted your head at Ren, dodging recalling his monicker, which your group still exercised around strangers, "He's got the point: the security measures sound a bit too lax for people who are allegedly aware and complicit in violence happening outside of the protected settlements."
"Do you assume vagrant scum and banditry can't be dim?" It wasn't hard to notice how pumped up Inga became about violently reclaiming her society's property, which might be an issue in given circumstances.
"No," you answered sternly, if a bit coldly, "But I assume kherees already have one haunted outpost too many to seek for more violence within their walls." You fixed your gaze on Inga's cold blue-gray eyes after saying this. Perhaps referencing the earlier events and troubling her fresh wounds was cruel, but it did subside her anger, at least on the surface. Noticing the fall of tension caused by the absence of Inga's pushback, Amalia finally exhaled in great relief. Ren was less articulate, but the mild relaxation of his posture convinced you he was also welcoming of your plan.
Without further debates, your group picked up the backpacks and lined up in a formation, with Inga and you at the helm and Ren covering Lia in its tail. Wordlessly, you exited the thicket and began to close the grassy open gap with the fortpost's main entrance. Nothing about your group's nonchalant gait suggested that not even five minutes before, a (minor) part of your team fancied the slaughter of those you intended to negotiate with. Mentally brushing over this observation, a part of you wanted to conjure a luminal dome to prevent the possibility of the outpost's watchman striking any of you with arrows, but doing so would've shown the lack of goodwill, which is essential for negotiation, so you ultimately restrained your paranoia.
As you finally approached the crude wooden gateway, you weren't greeted by arrows' swirl but by a glimpse of a rather unkempt lander lad nervously clutching to his bow. As your formation stopped, he was the first one to give voice. A couple of his soon-repeated questions rang hollow to you as they weren't spoken on Pherinian. You tried to inquire if he's proficient with the new Pherinian and introduce yourself. Yet, the lack of understanding only caused the youngster to erratically yoink the bow's string and repeat the exact phrase increasingly agitatedly.
Unamused by the spectacle, Inga gave you a skeptical sideway glance and then barked something at the youth. The shaggy chap visibly recoiled from Gvuroth's sudden command, stepped back from the edge of the battlement, and froze in suspense for a few tense moments. Then, his mope-headed figure disappeared from view into the bailey.
"What did you tell him?" You inquired of Inga, who was drilling your side with an unbearably skeptical glance.
"To fetch us their chieftain and someone who understands Pherinian speak."
For a moment, you wanted to specify if that was really what she said, as Inga's tone was rougher than the Turanese language you overheard casually. However, poking her more would've been a bad idea, given how this situation already put her on edge. So, the painful wait ensued, with you quietly scanning the surroundings for groups of soul sparks, among which you registered those of both animals and people. By the time you were about to give up on the diplomatic approach, you had sensed two soul sparks approaching the parapet behind the palisade: the "fresher" - probably that of the shaggy lad, and the other one with far heavier memories trail.
"Who are ye, and what did ye come for?" An odd voice rang from behind the wooden row. The tone sounded like the distorted voice of a child or an elder at the top of their lungs. You rolled with the latter assumption.
"We are hired swords from the Tevon-Talab accompanying the representative of the group to which this fort belongs. We came here to uncover clues that might lead us to the criminal terrorizing the town and its people."
"Scoot! Neither we have anything to do with Tevon nor have we any racket wage," The voice of an elderly woman cut in before you could continue, making matters harder and not just because of her lexicon. Yet, the expression forming on Inga's face was more intimidating than the old woman's choice of words.
"Ma'am, we have a kheree hunter with us, to whose group this keep belongs. Moving here, we did not expect it to be reoccupied after its abandonment. Yet, as stated earlier, we do not seek conflict and only hope to find clues that would help us apprehend the manslaughterer running loose in Tevon." As you said this, you caught in the side vision Inga starting to shake.
"If so, why did you come 'ere so cap-a-pe?" The elderly woman's voice was uncertain as if she was almost convinced, but whatever she meant under the "cap-a-pe", it prevented her from ceding.
As you scratched your head about how to prove the non-hostility of your intent, Inga's patience finally broke, with her fervently shouting in Turanese in a not-at-all friendly tone. It took her about a minute of the heated rant, vividly threatening gesturing, and a hefty spit on the wall in the end to express her "opinion" on the matter, after which the shocked kind of silence hung in the air. Both soul sparks distanced from the wall in the same manner pigeons would scatter to a sudden visage of a kestrel.
Damn it, you thought quietly before making the emotional last-ditch attempt to salvage the situation, yelling half-desperately: "Please, we spent two days marching here, and we can not afford any obstructions or delays as innocent people's lives are threatened each night. We know you took over this abandoned fort without any notice or permission, but as stated, we are not here to have a proprietary dispute. I implore you not to turn this argument into such and corner us into doing something most of us would absolutely hate to do."
The tense silence persisted for more stretching moments, with you fervently tracking the movements of your "interlocutors" souls behind the palisade wall. As they weighed their options, Inga's eyes dug into the bomb hanging below Amalia's backpack. You closed your eyes, silently praying to no particular deity for violence not to erupt.
"Fine. Leave the batty one at the gates, and ye may come in." You finally relaxed after hearing this from a gray-haired woman with a kerchief on her head, barely peeking above the wall's edge.
"But... We need her to identify the belongings of our suspected lead," You retorted meekly.
"Ye have child-bearin' bosoms on ya rack yet want us to offer a pass to someone threatenin' to hang us by the guts? We have children 'n here, for Tengur's sake!"
With your mouth pried half-open in shock and utterly ignoring the remark about your constitution, you turned to look at Inga's swiftly darkening face with the silent "You did what?!" question written all over you.
"Damn civies..." she mumbled, vigorously hiding her eyes from your stare, "I... 'ave got too agitated and spat some excesses. Sorry." You have never seen anyone going from utterly livid to crushed with shame so fast as she followed up: "Just bring me for confirmation whatever you suspect to be former occupants' belongings. I'll wait here."
And just like that, the entry gate opened, allowing you and - bar Inga - your groupies to slip in, revealing the life that was going on in the fortpost's bailey. The shaggy youngling with a bow sat down on a log at the wall's parapet with a slightly easier face. A couple of women of both younger and middle ages resumed hanging laundry on improvised dryer racks after eyeing your group up and down. Two little boys and one girl ran to the piles of freshly cut firewood, believing it to be a good enough hideout to peek at you without being noticed, while the older man sitting by it put down an axe while stuffing his bearded mouth with a roll-up cig. As you saw the senior woman from the battlement get down to greet you properly with as little grace as her age would suggest, Amalia holstered her crossbow with an audible relieved exhale. Meanwhile, Ulren's massive fingers tapped on your right shoulder approvingly, returning a faint but warm smile to your lips.
_________________________
"From Hatgaal we came - a hamlet yonder down the Tsan-Gol river. As 'twas razed by a blighted fiend in early hours of this spring's coming, this keep became its remaining flock's new home."
It did not take long for the inhabitants to get used to your intrusion, evident from the resumption of the daily chores that kept the place running and the cessation of the hounds' barks. Erdem - this group's apparent "matriarch" - was now relaying their story, while as per her orders, the women and kids were helping Amalia locate the previous owners' items.
"If it's not too bothersome for you, can you tell us more about that "blighted fiend"?" Ulren asked the old woman while taking a sip from a gourd.
"Ye wish to slay it like the heroes of old, are ye now?" The matron retorted with a bittersweet chuckle.
"Want or not, there is a roaming monster that causes a major stir as far as Baator, so it would be wise to know what to expect on this shore of Tzuh-Aran."
The old woman sighed heavily and turned her face, training her tired, discolored eyes at something far away between you and Ulren.
"With the morning fogs it came, right on the eve of the spring's first seed day. It did not announce itself, nor were we concerned by the rumors of a fiend ravaging hamlets at Tzuh-Aran's and Tsan-Gol crossing further down south. My olden husband Togold, may he know peace in the skies cloud glades, woke me up at that dreaded hour and asked me to listen carefully."
The old woman was submerged in her recollections, neither reacting to outside irritants nor showing munch emotion while proceeding. "I listened to those accursed noises while praying to the skies for it to be a mere wilden beast comin' out of the river woods to feast on waste while Togold worked up vim to peek behind the gates was mine most fearful moment as long as I could walketh. Then, he froze as if struck by an arrow and mumbled to me to bundle the chattels and fly as nimble as my ole legs could. Bur 'fore I whimpered back, the blood-churnin' shriek of Sarna - our millers' daughter and once the prettiest girl of the village - followed by the loudest, most accursed bestial rumble my ears heard in decades. And then..."
And then, Erdem paused her story. Her eyes darted from side to side, yet they weren't looking at anything within your reach or even inside the fort's bailey - she was evidently piecing together the following events from the messy, residual, and quite obviously hurtful snippets.
"Ma'am, If it is difficult for you to dig through those recollections, then we understand and don't..." Ulren tried to console the old woman, but she, seemingly like most Turanians, was stubborn and waved his efforts away, continuing her testimony anyway.
"The thing was twice the height of a house and looked like two bloated corpses intertwined 'tween themselves, molded into a dead steed, and havin' cancer pincers for arms. It's... maw was dead in its abominable trunk and put on its side, reminiscent of tree dents. Even its movements were unnatural, part-walloping and part-crawling. Like an apparition, this thing dived back into morning fog only to reemerge from it elsewhere and wreak havoc. It unroofed the thatch as if for fun and then chased those who dared to run. When some of our men tried to fight it back or at least throw a torch at it in vain hopes of distracting it, the beast puked back with venomous vile that... ate people unlucky to get smeared with it. And when too many of us woke up and ran about, grabbing whatever we could before abandoning our homes, it... released lesser crawling horrors from its vile innards for them to hunt and harass us like hounds."
Elder Erdem took another pause, but this time to catch her breath, while her stare slowly drifted to the ground. "Many were lost to them. Their screams and cries still torment us in dreams. Plenty of infants became orphaned, and many o wives turned widows on that accursed morning, myself includin'. Some still bear scars or disfigures, stained by that horror. Sarna - the precious flower of our village and once the yearnin' of half the blokes - had half her face eaten away by that spew. She drowned herself a couple of weeks ago, unable to live on without her family and the hope of ever being desired by anyone. And that greenhorn you saw at the gates, Zorig's his name, and a pesky little rascal he was, pinching the fruit trees by my house; yet a round orphan he is now, and I'm the closest person he has left..."
"But how did you end up here?" You asked primarily to distract the old woman from reflecting on the losses.
"From a village of around hundred and a half heads, under half a hundred escaped. Most of those with ties with other landings broke away from our hurdle outright. The rest of us - those who had no other place to call it home, marched further north. Other villages chased us away, saying we were marked by the ill omen and would've brought the same misfortune upon them. Foraging we had to refer to, as there was barely any food we managed to take with us. Not all of us made it here; some succumbed to hunger, others to sickness, and some to despair. And when our remaining men scouted this rundown rampart, we knew we couldn't go on any further. And this is where we are, two dozens and two heads, with only eight men to provide for all the mouths." After finishing her speech, Erdem chuckled bitterly.
"Can you please tell us more of what was happening before that abomination appeared? Some uncommon occurrences, perhaps?" Ren inquired, hastily adding: "It's not us wishing to torment you with those memories more, but rather the knowledge you possess could potentially save many 'o folks..."
The old woman chuckled again, weakly shaking her gray-haired head sideways. "Aren't you two too young to heed the ramblings of an old hag?" She tried to laugh, but it swiftly turned into a coughing feat. Yet, before Ulren could offer assistance, she regained her posture and continued with a more serious tone: "I would've told you if I knew. The planes are rife with discord and all sorts of folks snooping around, so even if there were any omens, they got buried under the rumors of Ertanghalians and Baatorians loitering 'round our now-ruined home, raring to fight another of their stupid wars."
Even though it barely narrowed matters down, Ulren raised his brows as if he got what he wanted to hear. "Thank you, ma'am," he said, "we understand that our gratitude amounts to nothing compared to what you had to go through recently, but you did help us. From the more practical side, all we can do for you is to put a word to kherees, advocating for them to leave you here in peace, and, should you come to Tevon-Talab for trade or services, recommend you to consult their blacksmith and tell that Ulren sent you; he's my friend and would figure out how to aid you better."
Erdem looked at Ulren curiously, and then, after holding out a pause, for the first time in this conversation, she gave off a grin not riddled with sadness, "I always liked yer kin's chaps: ever affable and respectful. You remind me of my own boys 'fore they feuded with each other and ran off to the opposed cities of the Blugd-Tur to seek their fortunes. Don't take it as an offense comin' from this old crazed hag, but yer frigid mountain hoydens don't deserve ye."
Politely, Ren left the old lady's jest without any comment, hiding his eyes clearly uncomfortable and letting her have a bit of fun at his expense. As for you, Amalia's cry-out interrupted your steam of thoughts on how oddly well grannies of different races seem to react to Ulren. Your jovial friend was calling you by while standing by the homemade wheelbarrow loaded with all sorts of items that the current denizens identified as those belonging to the former occupants.
"They say it may be all there was to find, so let's go to Inga to verify if there's any Eljidey's stuff!" Amalia chirped, unmistakably happy for the assistance of the local women and kids. And so, after a tap on Ulren's shoulder to get his attention, you lined up with Lia at the head of the procession, consisting of the two of you pushing the gear to the gates and a trio of children jumping in a line behind you like a parade of grasshoppers. It did not last long, however, as the older man you saw splitting firewood an hour ago barred the infants from getting near the gate behind which Inga was waiting.
"All's fine on your end?" you tried to politely initiate an exchange after Inga's self-reported "excess."
"Yes, 'tis been quiet here," she answered, even though the perplexion and embarrassment from the whole situation still darkened her face, "took you a while."
"We were lucky enough to have them cooperate and pile up the articles they deemed belonging to the previous occupants. They've been pretty thorough, from the looks of it." As you were done speaking, Amalia parked the wheelbarrow with a smugly content expression. Inga threw an estimating glance at it and approached to dig in the pile with an audible grumble. You turned away from Inga and a little mound of old inventory she was digging in, looking around.
The birds were singing their trills, and the sun was peeking out from behind the clouds more than earlier. Up on the wall, Zorig, the shaggy chap whose name Erdem revealed to you, was looking down at you and Inga still with a handful of suspicion. Perhaps he was still unconvinced of you posing no ill will, which is perfectly sensible for someone squatting in the derelicts of these wild plains after losing all he had. Nearby, Inga kept emitting grumbling noises, not so different from a lidded cauldron on the verge of boiling its contents. Close by, Amalia sat down on the ground by the other side and leaned on the palisade wall, stretching her hands to the sides while yawning luxuriously. But when you almost fell for the idea of joining her, Inga's abrupt "It's his!" made you turn back.
"A... toy?" You inquired, bouncing your glance up and down between Inga's face and a compact carved wooden effigy of a horse she was holding in her hands.
"Mhm," Inga nodded, "Many folks seek to unwind by searching for solace at the bottom of a bottle or through a good shag, but, like I told you before, Elji wasn't like the rest, carving out all sorts of critters from whatever chunks of wood he'd find just to ease up. Elders often scolded him for wasting firewood like that, but he was relentless and kept doing it, stubbornly calling them "models." When times were rough, he would cut out entire ranches' worth of timber beasties and hand them out to Tevonian kids."
Suddenly, Inga paused as if distracted. A bittersweet smile appeared on her face before faintly visible sadness resurfaced. "His father - a carpenter - handed him to us when his family got too many mouths to feed. Elji... never talked about it with his peers, but elders and I remember it regardless, as we've seen him growing up among us. I feel like he never got over his family's disposal of him, which became the root of his aloofness and many eccentricities as he matured."
Wasting no words, you took a few steps closer, receiving the object from Inga's hands. Its surface was a little shabby and had residual signs of exposure to elements like tiny dark mold spots. Yet, the quality of the knifework was superb - the evidence of the crafter's many hours spent over this hobby therapy. The figure also had signs of recent-ish maintenance by someone's not-as-skilled hands. But most importantly, once you focused your supernatural senses on it, the artifact gave away the intense soul traces that felt like an integral part of its structure.
"I yet not know what exactly, but this thing has a potent trail on it - the telltale sign of an intense state of the soul leaving its mark upon it." You commented quietly.
Inga raised her hand in a gesture that would befit either objection or a specifying inquiry, but the words did not follow. Instead of commenting on your arcane capabilities, she dryly remarked: "Then, I trust the rest to you... Whatever you plan to do with it."
You nodded at her feebly before carefully clutching to the equestrian carving, closing your eyes, and brushing your soul spark against the wooden memorabilia.
The traces resonated instantly: you could tell that the item had two potent emotional strains upon it: one at the surface and another - the thinner but more intense one - deeper down. The mantle layer felt... You could not pick the right word: you sensed the peculiar lightness of the innocence, the haze of dreaminess and curiosity, and the complex feeling of... consolational attachment. Someone of the locals - most likely a child - holds this item very dear as it helps them cope with their loss and the drastic change in their circumstances. It feels... therapeutic in a way and very sentimental.
But as you dig deeper, this coping mechanism vibe of the new owner bridges with a similar one sticking out from the deep-rooted imprint belonging to the toy's creator. Identical to the current owner, this wooden figure - or its creation - served as the means to escape their soul's innermost discord. It quickly became difficult to parse this trace: the borrowed feelings of despair-inducing helplessness, ice-cold encroaching emptiness, and bitter alienation became overpowering. For a moment, you felt like the world's most abandoned person, whose sole remaining refuge was a feeble dream of finding a quiet place where no one would ever see you again.
As hard as it was to dredge through this metaphorical tundra of anguish, you had to claw out clues, so you focused on what felt like the sole unfitting pattern. It was a soul scar from a piercing moment, pulsing with fiery rage amidst these ice fields of frustration and defeat. It happened in a reeking, disgusting place filled with death, where someone Eljidey might have considered the next thing to a friend betrayed his trust by staying deaf to what felt like a question. On the verge of losing the psychometric connection due to the intensity of the imprint, you made your final move before getting washed out of the spirit connection trance; you probed into this unanswered question that corroded Eljidey's soul.
"Are your wits with ya?" Inga took a couple steps closer to you and tried gently shaking your shoulder after seeing you starting to blink again, "Did you just doze off on me?"
You delayed the answer, grasping for the fresh spring air and regaining the boundaries of your much healthier soulscape compared to what you've just dug through.
"Yes, you can call it that, I believe," you finally allayed her concerns. Way more familiar with your peculiarities, Amalia caringly smuggled her gourd with water into your clutches. Bless her.
You took a hefty sip before speaking on the matter. "I... parsed the markings Eljidey's soul left on this figure while he made it and... there was a lot to process."
"What do you mean? Did you somehow read his memories?" Inga's maladaptation to your talents was still present and evident.
"You can call it that - yes. Although, it was more about his soul's state reading and the experiences that haunted him at the time," you explained. "With the loss of his friend, he felt alienated and betrayed. I think he gave up on Tevon and Kherees after an event where someone denied him the answer he sought, which broke him in the end."
"An answer? What? Where? You lost me..." Inga struggled.
"He..." you paused for a moment, having little faith that Inga would take it in kindly, "He believed that Bodie was murdered, and the trusted lead in his investigation, whom he encountered in a carrion-littered place, refused to give him any clues."
The shock was evident on Inga's face, and she struggled to subdue it for a while. Gradually, the agitation passed. "What place, you say?" she inquired.
"He remembered it as reeking with rusty iron, littered with carcasses, with oppressive atmosphere, and with someone there he trusted more than usual. Does it ring any bells?" You countered.
"It... must be our slaughteryard - where we process the game. No one is stationed there permanently for apparent reasons, but if you say it was someone Elji didn't treat as a stranger, then it could be up to half a dozen people; I'll have to investigate who might've been there before he disappeared but to think Elji suspected foul play... I don't even know what to think now."
While Inga digested the information, you remained silent. It was apparent that there was a new lead and that Sephie's cynical offhand hypothesis on the nature of the demon that haunts kherees found an unexpected argument. As for your guide, you refrained from poking her more into the matter for now: it was clear that this whole venture was painful for her.
"Do you see something else that might've belonged to him? Something I could try studying?" You looked down at the pile of objects in varying degrees of decay.
"No," she said quietly, "I don't see any other of his verifiable belongings, and having you 'sense' these tattered tunics and flimsy tools and weapons would be excessive now that we know where to look for next."
"Then, what should we do with all these chattels?" You asked, acknowledging them as kherees property.
"They are useless for us now, so let the civies have them." She nodded at the main gates right after saying this in a mildly irritated voice.
To this, Amalia nodded approvingly and manned the wheelbarrow back to the yard. You followed her, risking not to shift Inga's lukewarmly favorable disposition toward these refugees by ill-timed questioning. In the bailey, you saw a child - a little dark-haired lander boy with piercing emerald eyes run up to you, stopping a few steps away and giving you a peculiar stare. For some reason, this caught you off-guard; his gaze had a weird mix of curiosity and amazement as if he knew you were not like the others. Perhaps it made you even a little uncomfortable, but then you remembered that you were still clutching the masterfully carved wooden horse figure.
"Is this yours?" You spoke to him softly while leaning down and offeringly stretching the hands carrying the effigy.
The kid looked down at your offering, sparing no other cues of understanding of what you have said. Then, like a weary little animal, he slowly approached you and took the toy from your hands, stepping back and transfixing those studying green eyes at you again.
"Take good care of it," you said softly, even with little hope he'd understand, "and thank you for lending it to us: it did help."
Finally, his grubby little face smiled as if he had confirmed something about you, and a few moments later, he energetically jolted away, summoned by what sounded like a call-out on Turanese, yelled out by Erdem, who had just finished talking with Ulren. As your eyes idly trailed the odd child, a sudden, unwelcome thought sent chills down your spine: if it wasn't for Ren's precise conjecture, Amalia's concerns, and the sheer luck of Erdem heeding to your plea, a dreadful mistake would've been made within these walls.
__________________________
On the night of the same day, your party marched further after the sun set down to make up for the time lost at the now-occupied fort. You didn't mind it much, though, and neither did you have any gripes about being used as a portative lantern to allow such a late march. After all, you could not complain about the events of the day proceeding smoothly and peacefully for once, and Inga's desire to get back to Tevon-Talab as soon as possible was also understandable.
The stop at which you broke the campsite was now familiar: the same secluded coppice in the gap between two hills where you rested once on your route to the keep. Despite the morals being higher than a day before, exchanges and less so conversations were scarce up until the campfire was lit and everyone was attending their relaxation routines before setting for the night.
"I'm sorry," Inga was the first to break this spontaneous silence, "about my reaction to those refugees, I mean," she followed up before anyone asked for elaborations.
"I just... set my mind on the high odds of it being overrun by less savory types, and having my suspicions initially confirmed narrowed my thinking," no one interrupted her confession as it felt like she needed to get it out of her systems. "And having the evidence of my extended family's decline before my very eyes did not help either. I'd be a liar should I say the idea of lashing out my fury wasn't enticing."
"But, fortunately, the situation revealed itself in time before we could do something we would've been regretting much more right now, so it's water under the bridge," Amalia replied to Inga. "Say, what happens with these people now? Would you report back to kherees about this finding?"
"I... don't think it would be necessary," Inga answered after a moment of contemplation, "Not only would it throw a shade at my forged excuse for missing in Tevon for days on end, but it would not help us deal with the main issue at hand."
Then, she paused, made a hefty sip of whatever was in her gourd, and stared into the cozy flame for a short while before speaking again: "They are ragtag vagabonds, strays, and stragglers - the same sort of people that make up our own ranks. Who knows: maybe, if we... if we fail to preserve the remnants of kherees companionship, it would be up to them to pick up the torch we've dropped, should they so desire."
"I'm also sorry for being less useful than I could've been," you injected yourself into the conversation, sensing that the mood was growing too gloomy for your liking and hence calling for a distraction. "At the gates, I should've started with the allegation of the Tevonion butcher knowing of the place and possibly leaving some clues behind. This could've made the squatters more cooperative in our attempts to neutralize the possible threat for their sake as well." You sighed and lowered your shoulders, "... I still have so much to learn."
"Ah, come now - don't give this self-deprecating nonsense," Inga swallowed the bait, "I barely done anything in comparison except for leading you all there and commenting on your findings."
"Say, Inga," Amalia took her turn, "Even though I'm almost sure you'd turn it down for many reasons, and I don't want to appear callous about the situation you are facing as a group, but what would you say about spending a whole day or two with us at Tevon? I feel like you could really use a little breather from this ordeal you've been brewing in. Besides, we've got dumplings!"
The gvuroth lady was momentarily taken aback before she cracked what felt like her first genuine smile in days. "Aww, I'd love to, but as you've reckoned - I can't. There's much I'll need to do and many stones to turn before we proceed with unearthing the truth." She then leaned back and relaxed, saying: "... But it's sweet for you to offer, and I'd really like some meat & leek dumplings right about now." As all of you girls chuckled, she added: "From what I observed, you guys are fortunate to have each other. Even among our ranks, such friendly cliques are few and far between."
To that, Amalia began to share some (less embarrassing) episodes from your group's life, usurping Inga's attention entirely. Meanwhile, you noticed the lack of something - or rather, someone. This "someone" was
quieter than usual. Not in the ordinary "I'm fine" way of aloof, but rather preoccupied with some thought or, perhaps, even concern, which he dared not to voice because of his stubbornness. Reminiscent of the previous cases when he behaved this way, you decided against letting it slide and approached him after devising a little plan.
With Amalia securely distracting Inga, you beelined closer to sitting Ulren, obstructing the light from the campfire with your frame and leaning over slightly. Your positioning made him quietly look at you and raise a brow questioningly as if asking what is the matter. To this, you briefly darted your eyes toward the rucksack covering your wings, which you ceased sensing a fair few hours ago. Ren attempted to silently protest, raising the other brow and sideglancing at the girls behind you, which you countered with a tilt of your head and batting the "poor puppy" eyes at him. He made the last-ditch attempt to wriggle away from your request by giving you a squint, but you got him in the end with a pleading grin, to which he defeatedly rolled his eyes.
"We'll be right back!" You half-turned toward the girls to inform them with a voice ringing with little triumph. Amalia took a few seconds to process the situation before giving her "Sure!" and hastily resuming the chatter (that sounded more like a monologue) with Inga. You took Ren by his massive hand and began to drag him away from the campsite. He played along, pretending you could yoink his three times heavier frame out of courtesy.
Less than two minutes later, once you adequately distanced from the night stop, having your knees brush against the tall wild grass and hide in the thicket, you stopped in a small clearing. A few tiny sparks were conjured by you to dimly illuminate the place since the night was pretty cloudy, obstructing the moonlight. You wriggled your back, restrained under the rucksack decoy, emitting sounds similar to an irritated cat. Ren immediately interpreted your unspoken plea and liberated your stiff limbs, letting you shoot two birds with a single stone.
"You are brooding again, but not in the usual way," you spoke while he fiddled with the belts and cords attaching the cursed piece of leather to your back, "Is it because of how Inga reacted without thinking thorough?"
"What? No..." You could not see his face, but the approximation of his bemused grimace resurfaced in your mind, "Acting before thinking is in gvuroths' nature. One gets used to it eventually if they have the patience. But thinking of it, I don't know how exactly they manage to outnumber us with this sort of rash behavior being the norm..." As he said that, you heard a soft plop of the leathery slipcover hit the ground, relieving you of the tormenting restraint.
"If it's not about her, then what is wrong? I know you well enough to notice that something is troubling you, so don't you even try pulling your stoicism trick on me," you commanded, trying to pry open your absolutely numb wings a little. All that came out of it was soreness.
Ulren sighed but kept on point: "I can't get what Erdem said out of my head. Looking back at how we got into this whole deal with Baatorians, the marked monster terrorizing the Tzuh-Aran's northern shore for so long, and that time Ergon - the brother of the Tchonun's acting chieftain - tried to confidentially approach us... There seems to be more to this story than we suspected."
"Do you think they had other goals in mind about which they didn't inform us?" You specified after a labored grunt following the slow unfolding of your poor wings.
"It feels this way. Having a plausible deniability factor is convenient now when Ertanghalians and Baathorians are about to clash for control again. As Erdem said, this beast was known for over a season, which is plenty of time to take down almost anything, considering Tchonun's concentration in these parts." To this, you remained silent, pondering.
"In short, we might have dodged some shady business by abstaining from the bounty, but at the same time, we can now only guess about the true plans of Baathorians on that beast. And I have a heavy feeling about it."
"Do you think... Tevon might be in danger, too?"
A heavy sigh confirmed your suspicion. "We don't know that, but as much as I hate to say it, it's not excluded. But let's not get ahead of ourselves on it for now."
There is a reason why they say "Be wary of your wishes," as your desire to know what was pressing on Ulren now caused you to share the same burden. "Hey, Ren? Can you help me out a little?" you attempted to salvage the situation by distracting the both of you of the oppressive thought, "The sun was still up in the skies when I lost the sense of my wings. Can you please massage their shoulders for me? They ache if I try to flex them on my own."
"Erm..." His confidence disappeared suddenly, "Are you sure this is a good idea?"
"Please, be gentle." You said, but there was no answer besides incoherent but somewhat embarrassed noise behind you. A few moments later, the sensation of two large but soft, warm palms caringly squeezing the rigid wing joints on your back washed over you. It was so contrasting yet pleasant that you could not suppress a quiet moan and barely prevented yourself from collapsing to your weakened knees. From his proclivity to pet your head, you knew that his hands were oddly comfy for their size, but you did not suspect just how good it would feel to have them restart blood circulation in your limbs. Was it a minute or five - you do not know, but you know that you've almost purred until the sense of your wings returned to you.
"It may sound weird to you, but... how do they feel?" Ren wondered, contrary to your prediction of him being too embarrassed.
"Uh... What do you mean by 'how do they feel'? Like, right now?"
"No. I mean, how do they feel as limbs? Are they closer in senses and dexterity to the second pair of hands, legs, or something in between?" He sounded genuinely curious.
"Oh! They feel slightly different, but still close to how one feels their hands," you answered, thrilled by his interest in you wings, "not as dexterous, but more sensitive in some places, and they also feel more robust than arms."
"I see..." Ulren muttered, releasing his grip once you regained complete control over your wings. Although, you think he might have stolen a couple of brushes on them before you proceeded to flap with them, scattering around the loose and broken feathers.
"Ahhh! This is sooo much better," you announced, folding back your pearly treasures, which felt like dried clay mere minutes ago. "Thank you!" Your mood improved immensely, and now, among other things, you even considered asking Ren for more of these massages in the future: it felt this good.
"Anyway, weren't we discussing that monster who chased away the refugees now squatting in the fort?" You attempted to get back to the main topic.
"We did, but there's nothing more we can surmise right now: not until we get back to Tevon-Talab and scout more information; no use digging into it on our way back."
"So, take things easy, you say?" You could not suppress the sudden surge of playfulness, "Does it mean we can skip retying my wings and go back to the camp as is?"
"Good try, but no," he answered theatrically unamused.
"Aw, it was still worth a shot," you got back at him playfully.
"You're rubbing a bit too much from our rogue..." he commented, to which you stuck out the tip of your tongue in a playful defiance.
The reaction came in immediately, with him wrapping the leather covering purposed for your wings and lightly swatting your rear with it as if you were a pesky cat caught at mischief. You cranked out silly giggles.
_________________________
On the afternoon of Bloom 24, the now-familiar confines of the Hjorn's yard greeted you with their humble comfort. True to her earlier declaration, Inga broke away from the group on the approach to the town, promising to get back in touch once she figures out who might be the person with whom Eljidey tried to incite collaboration. It felt like Lia had a pinch of disappointment caused by Inga's refusal to bond with the group more. Still, you weren't concerned much as your group's handywoman was bound to refocus on her routine loop of maintaining the band operational. Speaking of which, the "responsible" core of the crew was away for half a week, meaning that...
No - the "hotel" shed was in its place and even without any signs of arson caused by cooking or alchemical accidents. The smithy hut, along with the forge, was also where they belonged, with Hjorn busily engaging in some smelting. At the same time, Sephie sat on the anvil in that impromptu Daevishly-elegant way and discussed something with him enthusiastically. Well, it was more like him nodding to her unstoppable enthusiasm put in words.
Unusually for him, Karl was also soaking in the sun on another side of the yard while practicing his spellcasting on a discarded bucket with water hung on a wooden crane. Curious, you whipped your spirit sense just to count the surrounding souls, locating Isaac's and Jorgen's readings in the shed right before the latter came out to check on the arrivals. However, it wasn't the alchemist who greeted you first.
"Oh my! There you are!" Sephie jumped off the anvil, utterly forgetting her conversation with Hjorn, "Just in time before I had to yoink the chaps to search for you. Now, did you return with something nice & tasty?"
"We got what we wanted, but it wasn't food. Sorry," Ren replied, seemingly oblivious about her messing around. Again. Lia, however, threw a concerned look at the shed, possibly realizing the sorry state of the larder, accounting for the cooking 'qualification' of those left at the home base for days.
"Aw! You didn't even consider it after leaving me to babysit these unruly kids for days, now haven't you?" She teased back, her eyes ablaze with unusual playfulness, "Well, unlike you, I thought about the team effort and pulled out something like the good girl I am while you were aware!"
"Should we be afraid?" Ren cut it short, only stirring more of Sephie's theatrics.
"Here, look at this!" She chirped while turning around, taking something from a nearby wooden crate and throwing it at Ulren. 'This' was a compact, smooth, freshly cast iron ingot resting in bhiroth's hand. "I got an idea of how to alleviate the issue with the missing metals shipment and recruited a couple of local urchins to help me locate abandoned steads and scavenge for remaining irons. For a humble price and with the help of our pack horse, we've managed to scavenge about two weeks' worth of iron!" You caught yourself on a thought of seldomly seeing Sephie this enthusiastic as she continued: "This way, you'd be free to use whatever remaining good steel Hjorn has to patch up your armor properly."
Ulren wasn't used to seeing her this helpful, and it was written all over his face as she drilled him with the stare of her fiery-orange eyes, waiting for an answer. And he tried to say something immediately, but whatever it was, he hastily reconsidered. Then, he made the second attempt, even lifting his arm questioningly, but the outcome was the same. Finally, he gave her an unsure, sideway glance, saying: "Are... you sure those were abandoned?"
"Well, if you expected me to get sealed magistrate deeds verifying those derelicts as abandoned, then I'll have to disappoint you. You and that army of outraged landlords laying siege to this yard, surely vying for justice!" Even though Sephie kept grinning while throwing this sardonic remark, you could not overlook the instant extinguishment of that peculiar spark in her eyes.
"Oi, Ren! Give the girl a break!" Hjorn injected himself into this exchange while Ulren looked confused, "As unorthodox as her plan was, it's still much better than wasting brand steel on mundane requests of nails and horseshoes. Besides, those grubby 'lil scoundrels now have the tools to feed themselves, and I'm considering throwing gigs now and then, too. 'Tis much better than closing down the booth until the new shipment comes and leaving 'em Ughar's orphan twins starving."
Avalanched by reasoning from not just one but two parties, Ulren diverted his eyes, muttering, "Right... Sorry," either embarrassed, convinced, or both. With that, he proceeded to store the camping gear in the shed, passing by curious Jorgen and offering no more comments, arguments, or questions.
"A'ight, then!" Hjorn spoke out and clapped with his massive bhirotish hands, drawing everyone's attention, "I have good news for ya, winged lassie!" He was about as excited as Sephie until just a few moments ago, "Your new kit is done. Get your stuff stored and come back for the try-on and the initiate's tutorial on how to maintain and use armor. And yes - it's not just about donning it on." The smith's enthusiasm felt infectious, and Sephie, too, grinned in anticipation of walking you through the same advice she received a week earlier.
You had no objections, and neither did it feel like "no" would be taken for an answer, so you grinned and approached the waiting Jorgen after handing the passing Ulren your camping loadout.
"How was it while we were away? And how are you feeling?" You kickstarted the exchange on a friendly note, seeing Jorgen still has a tiny glint of wariness when looking at you.
"It was... pretty quiet, actually." He answered after scratching the back of his head, "And thanks: I fully recovered from those bites and claws by now."
You smiled, mildly relieved. "So, was there anything of note?"
"Well, I was planning to go for another session of concocting, but as we are running low on reagents, I asked Karl to accompany me to the wilds to harvest some. And that's what we did: we went out of town, spent a day crawling in the bushes, I nearly lost Karl a couple of times..."
You quietly smirked at the report of Karl's persisting topographical cretinism, which Jorgen noticed, and you told him to continue before he could lose his composure.
"... So, anyway. While Karl had mild entertainment of igniting a couple of beasties, I failed to harvest anything useful, so I had to use the resources we had from the local alchemist."
"What did you do?" you asked him, more to show encouragement in his attempts than to know their results.
"Made an attempt to concoct one of the physical enhancer potions. I never attempted to make potent concentrations of these without the supervision of chemist seniors, but it actually worked out. The one I've made is for the motoric boost: it temporarily makes you stronger, faster, and more graceful but also applies the feeling of mild euphoria and lightness, numbing one's cognitive functions."
"So... It makes one faster and nimbler like an otter for a trade-off of making them - ah - dimmer?"
"Yes, this analogy won't be wrong," he agreed awkwardly, "In my thoughts, I kept returning to that night when we had to flee that cursed valley with its blue flame terror and was thinking that a bit of a boost might've... uh. Yeah." You politely let him have a pause; after all, it did not feel like he had finished his report yet.
"Had we it back then, it would not have helped at all anyway: it takes from half an hour to one to have the effect, which then lasts for two to three hours depending on the body mass of the consumer, meaning it should be drank before the risky situation. Yet, it makes me feel slightly better knowing that we can now prepare for expected hardships ahead."
"I see... But can you make other enhancers?" Your eyes lit with a new idea, "Like something opposite: a compound that would sharpen one's mind and focus at the cost of taxing one's physical prowess? I could've really used these for my magic practices!"
"Uh. Sorry - no can do," Jorgen shot down your short-lived plan like a bird from the skies, "Those are possible, but they are above what I can do right now and require costly reagents. Even in Lyf, good mental tonics were hideously expensive due to high demand and limited supply."
"Aw, that's still fine," you attempted to encourage him, "One day, I believe you'll be able to make those as well because, like I said, you can be quite resourceful if you put your heart to it."
His faint grin signaled the humble success of your attempt, "Maybe. Although it still leaves the issue of materials," he looked up in your eyes, "Can you... Can you guys bring me along now and then? On those raids of yours, I mean. As you tend to cover a lot of distance and end up in all sorts of places where rare ingredients might be found, should I harvest them, we'd be able to save on reagents and possibly find rare chemicals that open a whole new slew of possibilities."
"Not sure about that," you replied honestly, "You'd probably have to consult Ren on this, as violence follows us half the times we venture anywhere, meaning you'd have to be prepared for that, too. And not just physically."
He swallowed your low estimation of his combat abilities stoically - in a manner that would suggest he anticipated this answer. "Oh! I wanted to ask how did the raid go? Did you have a chance to test my bombs?"
"No. Thankfully, we didn't," you unwillingly curbed Jory's enthusiasm, to which his shoulders slumped, "We anticipated possible company there, but they turned out to be civilian refugees. With some luck and persuasion, we've made them cooperate with us, meaning that we'd have to test you bomb another time." Your elaboration left him with mixed feelings, so you decided to swap back the topic: "Were there any other evens while we were away?"
"As you might've seen, the daeva made herself busy while you were away, with only one instance where she quarreled with Karl sticking out."
"Sephie quarreled with Karl? How? Why?" Now, this wasn't something you expected.
"Maybe "quarreled" isn't the right word - it was more of a squabble after Karl offended her with a comment once she returned for the night after a day of scavenging. She..." Jorgen visibly struggled to pick the right words to not make matters worse, "Let's just say, after her firing back, they are unlikely to be on speaking terms for about half a week more, while I've got a free lesson of why it's not worth to joke about ladies origins."
"That's... a good lesson out there," you tried to grin, but it came out rather artificial, "Was there anything else?"
"No - not really. We've munched all the goodies Amalia left us with and had to check up on our horse in her absence in shifts. And that's about it."
"Then, thank you for the rundown, Jorgen," you smiled, chiseling the same response from him. Even though he was still getting used to being more open with the group, this little exchange reinforced your belief that he'll get there sooner rather than later.
________________________
Shortly, you found yourself in the yard, with your back against the smithy hut, and Hjorn, Sephie, and Amalia effectively surrounding you. Their hands moved in an odd dissonance that saw you clad into your very first actual set of armor piece by piece. Those fancy high boots that Amalia made for you and which you considered nearly fashionable enough to rock in on strolls in Kirhol served as components of the leg armor, softening attachments of the legplates, and as the locking mechanism to ingenious amortizing sabatons. The chest plate comprised the internal carcass holding rows of hardened leather plates cleverly interwoven with thin chainshirt patches underneath. The metal gorget with belts felt rather odd to your liking, but it served as an attachment base for the thick, hardened leather stripe protecting your back all the way down to the waistline belt, where it was bound to be fixed with the waist belt. Your torso, concealed beneath the nested compound plates, felt comfy enough, having just enough space for your breasts.
At first, after getting yourself fully equipped, you felt mightily odd: it was the first time you felt this much weight strapped onto you so evenly. Motions felt a little cumbersome, but in the grand scheme of things, this obstruction wasn't critical. As you continued to move around over Sephie's cheers and Lia's claps, a brand new sensation made itself known: you began to feel... oddly powerful. Almost invulnerable, in fact! Especially after hearing the dulled reverberations from knocking on those plates. After enduring the initial unfamiliarity with your new kit, you could not hold yourself in one place, turning, jogging, running, and even attempting to gain the initial lift. All of these motions except for the latter felt barely hindered, while the take-off felt possible but only with a considerable effort. Still, the sensation of being adequately protected felt terrific in a unique way!
"Oi, hold yer horses there, lassie," Hjorn suddenly interrupted your jubilant prancing, "I've seen this grin many times on many faces, and I still remember how it feels, but no - you are not invulnerable in this set. Far from it, actually."
The unspoked "Eh?" made you instinctively lower your wings protruding through the armor's back gaps. To say you felt confused was to say nothing at all.
"With this set, I squeezed the defensive properties of a lower mid to mid-grade armor into the top margin of the lightweight tier. It is designed not to allow you to constantly take strikes on it but to prevent your vitals from getting hurt if you miss a blow or a few. The real battle armor usually starts with the two top quadrants of the mediumweight designs, like the set we've made for daeva. And if you remember that talk about the triangle rule, your rig's properties and weight are offset by its complexity and maintenance difficulty. In your journeys, it would likely be challenging to replace those damaged plates with the lack of materials and infrastructure, so you don't want to get them out of commission without a reason."
This metaphorical bucket of water washed out thoughts about getting hit just for the heck of it if you had any. Now that it made you think, the modular nature of it also applied the disadvantage of handling and maintenance: its many pieces will have to be stored, cleaned, and fixed appropriately, not even to mention the abysmally low speed of the unassisted equipping, which makes it a poor choice in cases of campsite ambushes.
"Aye - I see ye starting to get it," He acknowledged your mute change in the face, "But don't you worry: this thing gives you the best grade of defense the conventional materials and your strength could afford. I also made it heavier than planned originally to implement the hanger keel and thus allow retrofitting in case you'd work up some muscles. If so, I'd recommend you ask Ulren to make arm plates before swapping to heavier chest pieces."
"Oh, now that you mentioned, where's Ren? I don't sense him around..." It felt legitimately odd to have Ren missing at this hour.
"He went to the town before you came out for the trials. Hasn't told me why but said he'll be back soon." Hjorn answered nonchalantly.
"Odd, but that explains it, then," you mumbled before brimming with a smile again: "Thank you! I'm far from being an expert in armaments, but I feel like you've poured a whole lot of effort and ingenuity into this armor, and this alone makes me feel much safer already!"
"That I did and enjoyed each and every moment of it as it was the second excuse to do art in a row instead of the mundane requests. Yet, you'd better keep your gratitude for when it would save your pretty bits; this is what the custom advises, anyway."
Ah, bhiroths and their professional superstitions... Without a sound, you gave Hjorn a playful yet compliant grin.
_________________________
As the sun began to sit down, once again filling the surroundings with golden hues, you made yourself comfy in your favorite corner of the shed, attending to your journal, seeing it as your smallest and quietest travel companion and confidant. The ink-stained feather hastily scratched against the paper while the potbelly stove emitted gentle cracks from its flaming depths. In this homey atmosphere, you nearly lost yourself if not for the sudden distraction.
"What's this?" You overheard Sephie's voice ringing from behind the wall, with Ren's reappeared presence near her.
"Cider and sweet bread with cheese. Does it look like something else?" The man's voice responded.
"I can see that, but what's with the sudden honors? Is there a bhirotish holiday or something?"
"Not really? You did help out Hjorn and us, even if in a bizarre way, but the end is the same. So... that's a return treat from me as it's only fair." As Ren said this, Sephie stalled a little, perhaps not knowing how to react.
"But... From where did you get it with all the food shortages?!" She finally reacted, and despite the content of the question, her voice was juiced with amazement.
"I'm not the first time here, remember? And I know a contact or two that might owe me some, so don't dwell on it." What you heard after this Ren's answer was a short-lived but peculiar jumble of grunting and chuckling sounds made by Sephie.
"Oh. Oh?! Let me guess: you'll now offer me to partake in it with Sparkling and shy away from suppering with us due to some sudden but absolutely urgent task?" Sephie's voice regained that atypical warm vibes with which she received your group's arrival.
"That's... a sound Idea! Thank you for suggesting."
"Aw, you..." You could almost sense Sephie's infectious joy through a wooden wall, "I would've commented on your social habits, but you are too sweet today, so fret not: Lu and I will groom you into an utter charmer~."
"Right. Have fun with that, and enjoy," Ren jabbed back ironically.
"Lu! I know you're listening!" Her call-out startled and embarrassed you simultaneously, "Our mountain boy got us some treats; get yourself here before I gorge on it all on my own!"
"Hey there, princess! Haven't your elders taught you that sharing is caring?" Ren's voice sounded from further away but was still perfectly audible, shaking out a rich and intoxicating fit of laughter from the Kathorian femme.
"Princess? Is this your come-back at me for calling you a mountain boy, or is it your plan to spoil me out of being - as you say - a rogue? Be wary of your wishes if so~." She immediately got back at you, giving Ren no room to fight back: "Lu, I'm cracking the loaf without you, and it smells scrumptious!"
"Hey, leave something for Lia, too!" You finally burst out in indignation. Sheesh - 'em daevas can be a handful sometimes, you thought, concerned over still lacking a plan of your endeavors for the coming day(s) before Inga's return. As your mind momentarily slipped into the valley of this idea, an odd feeling stung you like a mosquito - the wave of premonition telling you there might not be much free time once Inga reports back...
_________________________
Actions quota: 2 major and 2 minor
[] Ask Ulren to organize the day for the group-wide combat training and tactical coordination. (Non-repeatable, free arcane, melee, defense, strength, endurance, intelligence, coordination, and wisdom checks to determine the performance. Lucifina gets a guaranteed skill/attribute uptick to one of the checked stats. For every pair of checks scored over 22, the number of randomly distributed stat-ups increases by 1 to the maximum of 3, including the guaranteed one). New tactical opportunities with team might become available depending on the performance.
[] Pester Sephie and Ulren to go out with you and try doing more of Rene's (the old shaman spirit of the ruined belltower) gigs in hopes of his further tutelage or assistance. (Non-repeatable, free arcane, charisma, persuasion, wisdom, intelligence, willpower, arcane lore, and social & cultural lore checks to determine the performance. Lucifina gets a guaranteed skill/attribute uptick to one of the checked stats. For every pair of checks scored over 22, the number of randomly distributed stat-ups increases by 1 to the maximum of 3, including the guaranteed one). The extra benefits are dependent on the efficiency of rolls.
[] Grab Ulren and try joining a kherees hunting party. (Non-repeatable, free arcane, mobility, coordination, sneaking, huntsmanship, nature lore, geography lore, and constitution checks to determine the gains. Lucifina gets a guaranteed skill/attribute up to one of the checked stats. For every pair of checks scored over 22, the number of randomly distributed stat-ups increases by 1 to the maximum of 3, including the guaranteed one)
[] Go to town with Sephie and Karl to complete townfolks' requests and bounties. (Non-repeatable, free persuasion, object usage, willpower, intelligence, charisma, haggling, cultural and social lore, and performance checks to determine the gains. Lucifina gets a guaranteed skill/attribute up to one of the checked stats. For every pair of checks scored over 22, the number of randomly distributed stat-ups increases by 1 to the maximum of 3, including the guaranteed one)
[] Embark with Ulren, Jorgen, and Isaac into the wilds to forage additional alchemical materials and foods. (Non-repeatable, free nature lore, alchemy, recon, arcane, wisdom, coordination, intelligence, and geography lore checks to determine the material yields. Lucifina gets a guaranteed skill/attribute up to one of the checked stats. For every pair of checks she scores over 22, the number of randomly distributed stat-ups increases by 1 to the maximum of 3, including the guaranteed one)
[] Volunteer to stay at home and assist Amalia and Hjorn however you can. (Non-repeatable, free micromotorics, alchemy, daily craft, charisma, wisdom, craft lore, intelligence, and pharma and treatment checks to determine the benefits such as projects speed-up. Lucifina gets a guaranteed skill/attribute up to one of the checked stats. For every pair of checks she scores over 22, the number of randomly distributed stat-ups increases by 1 to the maximum of 3, including the guaranteed one)
[] Intensive training of attributes
-[] STR
-[] END
-[] MOB
-[] PER
-[] COOR
-[] MICR
-[] INT
-[] WIS
-[] CHA (Repeatable, each round raises an attribute by 1/2 if the base attribute is X < 14, by 1/3 if the base attribute is 14 =< X =< 17, and by 1/4 if the base attribute is X => 18)
[] Practice and study your magic disciplines!
-[] Practice thaumaturgy
--[] On your own
(Repeatable. current level 7 (+6/7 of the next level), hard wisdom attribute (20), hard intelligence attribute (20), hard arcane skill (24) each yields 1/x of the next level + 1/x default for investment + 1/6 chance to double the progress) --[] Resume your mixed style studies with Karl and Ulren
---[] With offensive focus (Repeatable. Current level 7 (+6/7 of the next level), hard wisdom attribute (20), hard intelligence attribute (20), hard arcane skill (24) each yields 1/x of the next level + 1/x default for investment but can't exceed +2/x aside from the 1/6 chance to double the progress. +1/2 to melee skill) ---[] With defensive focus (Repeatable. Current level 7 (+6/7 of the next level), hard wisdom attribute (20), hard intelligence attribute (20), hard arcane skill (24) each yields 1/x of the next level + 1/x default for investment but can't exceed +2/x aside from the 1/6 chance to double the progress. +1/2 to defense skill) -[] Study soul aspect on your own (Repeatable. Current level 7 (+0/6 of the next level), hard wisdom attribute check (20), hard intelligence attribute check (20), hard arcane skill (24) each yields 1/x of the next level + 1/x default for investment, Mia's +1/6 yield applies after hard (20) charisma check)
[] Routine attributes training
-[] STR
-[] END
-[] MOB
-[] PER
-[] COOR
-[] MICR
-[] INT
-[] WIS
-[] CHA (Repeatable, each round raises an attribute by 1/4 if the base attribute is X < 14, by 1/5 if the base attribute is 14 =< X =< 17, and by 1/6 if the base attribute is X => 18.).
[] Try bonding with someone
-[] Ulren
-[] Sephorah
-[] Karl
-[] Amalia
-[] Isaac
-[] Jorgen (Repeatable, but it can only be one bonding attempt per person. Free Charisma attribute check for extra effect. Write the addition of the topic for the bonding if you have something specific in mind.)
[X] Ask Ulren to organize the day for the group-wide combat training and tactical coordination. [X] Pester Sephie and Ulren to go out with you and try doing more of Rene's (the old shaman spirit of the ruined belltower) gigs in hopes of his further tutelage or assistance.
[X] Try bonding with someone
-[X] Karl
[X] Try bonding with someone
-[X] Amalia
Group wide combat training seems more and more necessary. They don't have to be GOOD at it, but the danger level of the area seems to be rising and we can't count on the fighters to be there fast enough.
DODGE!
Also with the hint that we may be leaving soon I want to get what we can out of the Shaman.
Okay, I might have overdone with foreshadowing. It ain't about leaving soon but rather Lucy feeling that something unusual gonna come down. Aka more of a "brace for impact" warning.
