Sabrina wasn't expecting her marriage responsibilities to include riding to war leading her husband's insectoid soldiers to slay his foes, but she's taken to the task with gusto and cheer. Her only regret is that it cuts into the time she spends with her lovely husband, the Baron of Soul-Consuming Carapace Shadows.
The carriage is rickety and pulled by a tentacle-faced... thing... you had never seen before this journey started. It is whipped occasionally by a shadow of thirteen red eyes, a vaguely cockroach-like creature that you have never heard speak. Both of them are odd creatures that seem bathed in darkness even when the sun shines directly upon them, the only color the red coals of their eyes. The driver's second bit of color is a broad-brimmed brown hat, almost comical in appearance, while the beast that pulls the carriage has green moss (?) covering the top of its entire body. Otherwise, they are both pitch-black, difficult to make detail out. You are not even entirely certain how many legs the beast of burden has. You can finally see the castle of the Baron of Soul-Consuming Carapace Shadows, which the carriage has been traveling to for three days. It is a vast, brooding place, dark clouds swirling overhead, eerily silent and dry, unlike anything you've ever seen.
You are here to marry the Baron, whom has selected you as their spouse for whatever arcane reasons these beings make these decisions.
They are not human. By any measure.
You are.
What occupies your thoughts as you approach?
[]It doesn't matter how you feel. It was necessary, to protect everyone you care about. Sacrifice
[]You are honored to be selected by one so highly placed in the eldritch egalitarian society.Duty
[]You hate and fear your new spouse, monster that they are.Otherness
[]You resent being forced into this, your dreams stolen from you to be replaced by this marriage.Aspiration
[]You're scared of what may be done to you by the things that lurk in the dark.Dependence
[]You look forward to meeting your spouse. They're all yours now, yessss.Acceptance
[]Of course you were selected. No one could possibly match you. To think otherwise is lunacy.Pride
[]It will all work out. This must be all part of the Grand Plan, and you will serve your part in it.Faith
----------
The carriage pulls to a stop across the moat. The shadowroach twitches its antennae, which glow green for a few moments, and as the glow fades the drawbridge lowers. You see more creatures scuttling about in the murk, only their strange eyes marking them out. There are no torches, and the castle itself is enclosed such that only the barest hints of sunlight can get in, even aside the dark cloud blotting out the sun, making it impossible to tell where one creature ends and the next begins nor how many of the things there are.
Then the whip is cracked and the beast pulls the carriage into the utter darkness.
You are essentially blind, and cannot help but be unsettled and disturbed, hearing the creatures go about their work without a word. The occasional rasp or click makes you twitch or jump, some primal instinct telling you you are in danger. You cannot protect yourself if you do not know where the danger will strike from.
It is difficult to fight the instinct, and no amount of I am here as a spouse, not a meal will quiet it.
Then you hear something massive scraping and skittering along the ground and quite abruptly
[]You curtsy, and introduce yourself as, "Sabrina Vieuxpont, my lord."
[]Irritated, you comment, "I am right here, you know. Sabrina Vieuxpont, as it happens."
[]Actually, the words die in your throat. This is strange and terrifying, and you don't know what to do.
[]You punch it right one of its horrible eyes. Who knows why?
[]"Usually, a gentleman would begin." You... aren't actually sure the Baron (For this must be it) is strictly male, but...
[]With a cough, you try to imitate their speech. "Iͭ̾ ͗͐́̃ͥam̀ ̋̽ͦͥ̋̚p̋̄ͤ̒͑l̀̄̈́ͦe͋̆͌̑͋͆͛aͫ̆̐̈̇̑̈́s̊e̎̌͊̓̌dͧ̒ͯ̊̇ͪ ̾t͑o̾̂̄ͬ̿̅̑ mͦ̇ͣ̃́̇̆ȇ͒ͦͩͦ͋eͯ̈t̿́ͯ̉͗ ͐͑y̾o͌u̐ͩ̈̽́,͊̐́ͤ̇̈́ ̓̀̑̉mͪȳͥ͑ͨ̿ ̎ͩlͩoͥ̈rd̓.̍ ͆͆̿̆ͨ͗̄I̓̃̓̈́ ͬͣ̇amͫ ̀̀ͧ̓̇̐ͦc̑̇͌͒̐ͧ͆aͯ̀l̾̀l̉͑ͮͧ̽̿̉eͭͪ͐̑ͦ͌ͧd ̊͗ͫ̃͊S̍́̅ͧ͐̈͐a̿̃b̏̌ríͥ͆̿n̉a͑̏ͤ ͯV̐̐̔ͭiͨë́͋̒̊ͪu̇̆͌͂xp̽͋̅̎ͨo̐͑ͩ̐ͯ̒ͤn͊̅ͣ̍ͮ̌̓t͊̇͂͋ͧͩ͊.̈́ ͦ̊͐ͬA̅ͯͮͧ̏ͭn͋dͨ͂͛̉̋̅̾ ͫ̋̋yͤͪ̍ͩ͂̋oͥ̍uͪͯ̅ͪͤ͌?͗̐ͪ" It hurts to speak like this.
[]You cut to the chase: "I don't understand why I am here, speaking frankly."
[]You throw yourself at the Baron -and try to figure out how to hug it. Yaaaay!
(This is block voting. The two votes are not separately tracked)
Light green represents grasslands, the darker green is old growth forests, brown is some manner of desert, grey is a mountain, Ice Lake's light blue is because it can freeze over in winter, contrasting with the Northern Sea's 'warmer' blue. The splotch of color in a territory that is the same as the territory holder's name's color is their primary base.
This is a 'zoomed in' (And somewhat distorted) view of Caras' territory. White dots are towns: they have names where Sabrina knows their names, and are unnamed when they are small towns Sabrina doesn't know the name of. The brown fuzz in the northwest is the 'badlands' giving way to Shifting Sands territory (Sables de Haines is, reminder, not in Caras' territory), the green fuzz is light forest/grasslands, the yellow-ish green is dense old growth forest (The Green Blight, mostly, but there's a small patch of such northwest of Ville Luminous), while of course the brown lines are roads. The purple line is a pseudo-road; it's well-trampled by Breeds and is how Sabrina quickly gets to the eastern border, but isn't really a proper road suited to things like wagons or horseriding.
Soissons
(No picture available)
The Freelander capitol. Sabrina is unclear where it is, but it's not on the map above.
Estvallee
(No picture available)
Historically the second-largest town in Caras' territory. Then they all got infected by Burners Worms and had to be killed. In the northeastern part of Caras' territory, near the Burner border.
Ville Lumineuse
(No picture available)
The largest town in Caras' lands, though there seems to be some hostility. Set somewhat southwest of Caras' castle, between the two forests.
Abandonne
(No picture available)
Sabrina's hometown! Yaaay! Wedged partway inside the Green Blight, to the southeast of Caras' castle.
Terre De Moutons
(No picture available)
A small town to the northwest of Caras' castle, with a particularly vigorous sheep population. The Virmires consider it vitally important to defend.
Lac De Glace
(No picture available)
A town deep inside the Green Blight, placed just on the northern side of the border of Caras' territory. Sustains itself primarily by fishing from Ice Lake to the south.
Sables De La Haine
(No picture available)
A town to the northwest of Caras' castle, in fact over the border somewhere within Shifting Sands' territory. Known to be the home of a fairly notable criminal by the name of 'Big Toe Jim'.
The Castle of the Baron of Soul-Consuming Carapace Shadows
A ye olde medieval castle, though enclosed rather than having an open roof. Dark clouds have hovered above it whenever Sabrina has been able to see above the castle, which is somehow the Heart's fault.
The castle itself has two oubliettes, and myriad little-used rooms. It's clear the castle wasn't originally built with Caras' kind in mind.
The map above is a zoomed-in view of the castle's surrounds. The castle is in the center, with a moat. Its drawbridge meets a manmade hill that gives way to the roads going west and southwest. The wiggly green stuff is forestry. The fuzzier green stuff represents more grassland-type terrain.
Further East The color scheme is similar to the previous map, except the light blue lines are river/small lakes, the yellow represents croplands/farmlands, the orange represents Commoner cities, the brown lines represent dirt roads, and the grey line in the southeast represents the Imperial Road, which is an old and sturdy road of some kind of stone. Additionally, the darker blue line in the north marks the start of the ocean, while the even darker blue circle-thing in the southwest is a place of religious importance to the Commoners.
A map Sabrina acquired from a merchant, depicting the northwestern portion of the Commoner country.
'Heart' Chamber
A mysterious place inside the castle, hidden away in the basement. It seems well-guarded.
Breeds.
Unless noted otherwise, all breeds have glowing red eyes and pitch-black skin/exoskeleton/what-have-you.
Overlord
(No picture available)
Caras' own breed. You don't know how common his type is.
You don't know if Caras' manner of speech is specific to himself or is distinctive to his Breed.
Worker
The catchall worker of Caras' castle. They are like dog-sized cockroaches, aside from their forelimbs which have a decent manipulatory capability, and their ability to stand on their back four legs temporarily. Sabrina has yet to witness them fly, though.
Workers 'speak' like this. Though it's usually more like This! This! than anything else.
Runner
(No picture available)
Able to run as fast as a galloping horse, a lean, twig-limbed creature that is partially sunproofed. Not enough for high noon. Has a paralytic venom. Vaguely resembles a man-sized and sort-of-man-shaped cockroach.
Runners 'speak' like this. Sort of.
Gatekeeper
Like a roach, if it stood like a human, kinda. They have hands with three fingers, and thirteen eyes for some reason. Apparently can 'sniff out Burner worms'. One acted as the driver of Sabrina's carriage at the beginning of our story. Seen here wearing a broad-brimmed hat, as their natural protections are inadequate for longer-distance daytime travel.
Gatekeepers 'speak' like this, just like Workers. Except they're less prone to repeating themselves and using exclamation points.
Hauler
Like a horse, if it had a betentacled face, and was shiny black with a green moss-like covering over its uppermost portions.
As far as Sabrina can tell, Haulers can't 'speak'.
Guardian
(No picture available)
Very tall. Not as tall as Caras, but tall. They're normally 'dormant', and are the castle's last, emergency line of defense.
Sabrina has never 'heard' a Guardian 'speak'.
Boulder
Hunched-over beetles that stab with a proboscis, roll into battle with a crash, and can hide from sunlight by curling up in their shell. The shell itself is a grey color. Sabrina's line troops.
Crawlers are capable of pushing them quite speedily in their rolled-up state, essentially negating their lacking movement speed over longer distances.
Boulders 'speak' like this.
Crawler
(No picture available)
Enormous centipede-creatures that are extremely capable climbers, useful at capturing live prey, though their venom is rather too lethal to help with that particular duty. They can abandon individual segments, which is rather useful for certain situations.
Like Boulders, Crawlers 'speak' like this.
Diver
(No picture available)
Crab-like creatures which can function underwater indefinitely and are able to hide from the sun by burying themselves in the riverbed. Or ocean floor. Either way. Sabrina's secondary fighter, a bit more specialized than the Boulders.
Sabrina has never 'heard' a Diver 'speak'.
Virmire's breed
(See previous)
He hasn't given his breed's name, as yet, but he's clearly distinct from the rest. He seems to be the seventh iteration of his kind. The fifth died from the sap of a Turpid Rose.
Sabrina doesn't know if Virmire's manner of speech is specific to himself or to his Breed category.
Scuttler
Scuttlers are the little beetle-ish bugs Sabrina has found perfectly delicious in her time here. They're a Breed that can eat foods other Breeds find toxic, filter out the problems, and thus add resource value to Caras' holdings.
Sabrina has never 'heard' a Scuttler 'speak'. She has doubts they can.
Suncrawler
A Suncrawler is a disturbingly humanoid skeleton whose mass is primarily made of a gelatinous green substance that somehow acts as armor, sun protection, musculature, respiration, and who knows what else. In the Suncrawler's case the gelatin also 'sweats' the same sort of paralytic venom Runners use, though the effect is diluted.
The primary purpose of the Suncrawler is indicated by its name: it can survive in open sunlight without expiring nearly instantly. The gelatin evaporates fast enough they can't sustain such indefinitely -they need to be re-hydrated periodically- but they can operate a full day without losing a problematic amount of mass.
Roller
The Roller is a Suncrawler's basic design as far as the gelatinous body and internal skeleton goes, but its primary purpose is to push Boulders about so they may be moved even in daylight. To this end its eyes are up on stalks so it can see over the Boulder, in addition to its body structure being designed to enable said pushing in the first place.
Its merits as an actual combatant or worker beyond that are somewhat dubious, though.
A key difference is that its flesh does not incorporate Runner venom. As such, it's actually almost as serviceable a mount for Sabrina as a Crawler.
In your enthusiasm, you hurl yourself at the Baron in an attempt to hug him. In the darkness you stumble briefly over creatures skittering along the floor, and there's a moment where you're unsure where to grab since all you can see clearly is the fangs and the eyes, but you manage to sort of... lay against one side, just behind the head. It's bristly and mildly itchy to the touch, but nothing harmful, and the actual flesh beneath the fur (?) is surprisingly soft and warm. You're pretty sure you're feeling many small legs down around your knees, hard and sharp-feeling. The Baron himself seems to shift his head (?) for a moment to track you, but then allows the contact.
Okay, maybe you're more than a little happy to see him. Frankly, you have no idea why the other girls were so upset when they heard the Baron was looking for a bride from your village.
The sounds of violence draw your attention back to the carriage -which you can see the silhouette of against the light outside, the drawbridge and gate still closing- which, as best as you can tell, is being systemically torn apart and its pieces carted away by countless creatures half your height. The driver stands to one side, busily eating its hat, and the beast of burden is being butchered, though you see no blood, no splash of liquid of any kind. Then everything is enshrouded as the drawbridge finally cuts off the last of the light, and you're left with just the sounds.
You nod furiously against the- ow. That actually kind of stings.
"It̸ sho̸u͟ld͟,҉ ͏s͠i̧re.̕"
You interrupt -this time to introduce yourself properly. "I look forward to our time together, my lord. You may call me Sabrina Vieuxpont, at least until we are married." You don't bother to step away, though strictly you ought to curtsy. But. Yours.
"Ŭ̪̓n̜̖͆̎͒̌ͦͬ̆̚ť͔̜̫̪̳̰̱̩̂͛͋̎̒i̠̫͉̯̭̻̗̣ͯ̈́́̓̌̃l̞̯͕̄͌́̿̆?͕̳͎̹͋̐̓ͤ̿͋͌̀ͫ.͙̠̱͎̰ͯ̐́̄̈̃͒̊.̞̤̦̲͒̇.͉̘̮̳̜̹͗̐̔ͩ̒" The Baron sounds confused.
Finally the ruckus dies down behind you, aside from what you're pretty sure is the driver still chewing their hat. The Baron ripples for a moment.
"I̬̺ͧ͆s̜͉̫̫̭̝̙̲ͦͣͩn̘͗̍̂'͕̠̮̭͍̮͔̏̄̌́͊̅t̫̰̞͙̠͔̳̭͂ͫ̃ ̞͇̽̋̓ͨt͕̩͚͉ͣ̀̓̋̆̏̎̚ͅͅh͈͙ͭ͗̉̍̅̈́e͈͌͑ͯ̽ͯ̒͐ ̬̊̌͂̽̈͊ͭ̓m̝̗͔̱̗͇̯͛̓̔͒͑̿̆̾ạ̗͓̙͕̳ͥͫ́ͩ̂̔̒ř͙̻̤̼̣̮̝̂̌ͣr̤͎̙̻̝̪ͪͪ͗́ͩi͖ͨ̉ä̺̩͓͖̥̼̼͙́̀̿ͩ̾̓ǵ̩̝̀̊͌̀ͬͤͧe̙̱̜̻̺̻̹ͪͮ̉́ ̝̠̘̮́̈s̩̙͇̙̪̺̞̈̉͗̈́ͅu̫̟ͣ̇̅ͫͪͅp̥̞̼̾ͪ̐̚p̼̯̻͙ͭ̉̾̃̾̐͗̍̄o̲͖̣̊͒̏̾͒š̰͇̺ē̖̹̗̖̳͙̣̏ͥ̂̎̏d̥͕ͥ̑̋̌͑͆ͥͧ̆ ̩̼̗̥̬̗̰͂ͮ̀ͮ̈ͦṱ͈̞̻̫̣̟͕͉ͤͪ͛ͨͭͣ͑ͮỏ̠̹̤͙̱ͤ͗͆ͩ ̳͍̼ͪ́͋͆̊ͦ̓ͅr̭̲̺̞̙̖̜̚e͓̭͎͍̺̅̃s͍̱̬̩̳̭͇ͦͯͬ͒̓͂ͣo͕̯̮͖̪͓ͩ͂͋͒̾̊̓̌l̘̩͗̋͋̓͆̚ṿ̤̟̲̭͙͈̞̩̿͊̆̂̔e̠͚͈̮̤ͥͭ̓̅̅ͣ̉̅͒ͅ ̝̩͉͇̳̠̬̼̌̐̎͗̀͌̒ͮ̔t̖͈̫͙̲̓͋ͮh̟̭̖̣̙̩̤̒̀͗̔͌̽ͅô̭̩̓̈̄̈s̱͔̪͊̅ē̱̈́͊͑ͫ͌ ̺̞̦̤̖͔ͩͧ̒̽ͮ̍͒ͅi͔̥̮ͦ͆ͭṣ̝̗͂s̰̩͈̫ͬ̿̇̎̑ͩ̐ͅu̯̖̲̻̠ͯ̅ͦ̀́̋̌̀̋e̦̩͇̪̖̤͎͊͌ͅs̺̘͓͓̜̖̲͒̊͌͌̉̆̚,̖̒ͤ̋̾̽ͧ ͈̠̳̩̉̓ͅt̙͎̳͍̓ͤ̏ͩ͊ḫ̮͎̫̜̍̽ͅō̞̰̼̻͚͒̋͗̾ͣ͂͗ͪͅu̻̟̱͑̂g̼͕̝͉̼̐ͥ̆͌̔h͎̩̘̰̲̞̫͕̾̔ͫ̋͑?̱̯̣̐̅̔̇̔" The Baron sounds... almost pleading?
There is a lull in the conversation before Virmire responds. "I͠t wo͏u͡l͡d be͜ ̨b̢et̢te҉r҉ ͘f̨o̷r̶ y̨ou͝ ͟t͜o̸ go ̕ýo̢u̸rself̀.̕" Nonetheless, you get the sense that Virmire has given up or admitted defeat.
"N͖̙̱̗̳̣̩̞͎͋͊̆̽̓͒o̜̟͎̫͕̼͔͖͖͗̅t̟̗̘̺̹̂͛͒̔ͤ͑ ͓̘̱̟̞͖͑̈͗i̥̖̗̟̭̞̒ͭ̈́̿̈́̑̓̚f̲̗ͦ̊͂ͣͬ̅̄ͤ̎ ͉̘̪̣ͩ͋̊͌͒ͩ͗̌̈t̪̗̾̈ͩͣ̇r̞̮̫̟̙͑̆͌a̮̠̓̎ͫ͋̄̍g̥̥̑̈̅͂e̦̘̓ͧͪd̪̹̫̣̃̅͋ẙ͉̜̭̳̎ ̝ͬ̅ͯ̿̎ͧͣs̟͍͕͉̒͐̐̄̾t̠͉͖̼̠̫̼̮̂̏̑̊͐͐ͪr̬̱̭̪͇ͦǐ͓̯̫̦̯̿͊ͤ̌͒͂k̘̬̮͙̤̪̐͆̿̋̂e͙̲̻̘̜͕͑ͫ̒̚s͚͔̤̱͎̬͊͋ ̰͎̺̄̐͐̅͒ͮ̌͑a̤̥͐n͎̭͚̆̐̂ͯ́ͦ͗̊d͕̈ͩ̒ͦ̆̿̚ ̘̩͔̺͖͔͌̏ͨI̗̹͈̗̦̼͉̜̿̿̏ ̰̪͓̊̎̄a̝̝̝̥̜̣̻͕͐̍́m͖̩͓̰̓̌̇́͂͑̉͂ͅ ͍̣̭͕̺̣ͭ͑̋ͫ͆̈s̟̖̦̫̝̼̥͐̈́̋ͭͭ̔̓͆t͓͇̜̖ͭ̎͗̊̈̄͗ͅr͚͓̯̪̜̰̔ͣ̏̅̐ủ̹̩̳̱͇̩̦̻̽͑̀c̺̙̅̽̈́ͫ̅k̳̘̳̜͗͑ͥ͂ ̥̲̟ͧ́ͣ̌d͙̃̽̉ͯ̐o̬͎͈ͬ̄̑͒̈ͦ̉w͍̦̟̏͑ͦ̊͋ͣͪ̇ͅn̹͙̣͍̠̦̩͌̊ ̪̬̰̰͕͍̪̯ͪ̈́ͣͥb̘̼ͩ̑̌y͕̼͔͉̱̝͆͂ͤͮͧ̀̄ ̬͔͉̙̻̉ͨ͌ͦ̆̄ͨ̌t͓̾h̰̞̩̻̿̊̽e͔̿̔̊̌ͯ̆̚ ̫̆͗͗̈́́̂w̖ͯͤ͒̐̓̊r̖̙̣̐ͅe̻͚̯̋̈́̌t̝̮̺̉̊͗č͈͚̼ẖ̜͉͙̥̣̆̽͑e̠̱̺̐ͯ̔ͥ͒͂̅͒d͖̙̝̖ͬ͑̔́ͩ͐̆ͣ̃ ̘̦͇̅͒̔ͩ̆̾s̖̭̭͓͚̮̠͇͑u͔͎̫̣ͥ͛͗n̰̦̰͕ͬͧͪ͑.̻ͣ̋" The Baron sounds triumphant, as if he thinks Virmire has no good response to that, and indeed Virmire does not immediate dispute it.
You consider interrupting.
[]"Excuse me. How would our union resolve this particular difficulty?"Utility
[]"Would you be fine with a nickname? Your full name is quite the mouthful."Affection
[]"The sun?" You ask quizzically. Too much sun can burn, of course, but the Baron makes it sound rather more dire than that.Curiosity
[]"I really can't see anything. Could I have a torch or some such?" It's perfectly fine if your spouse likes everything pitch-black, but you need to be able to see. I mean, really.Immediacy
[]On second thought you're fine right where you are.Amiability
----------------------------
Afterward, you are informed that it happens to nearly be mealtime, and as such you will need to be made more "ap̧pr͝o͝pr̷iat̡el͝y̛ ̴presen͝ta̸blȩ." Virmire doesn't clarify what he means before he directs a troop of unnamed things to escort you first to a storage room and then to the hall after you have dressed, and you follow along as best you can with a reluctant look back upon the Baron's face as you separate. The halls of the castle are strangely warm, which is actually somewhat pleasant by contrast with the autumn chill, but you can already see how this might be stifling come summer. The creatures -all you can see is their red eyes- seem to essentially ignore you, except when you go off the path they intend, unresponsive to questions. Unfortunate.
Eventually you are made to stop with much ado, and there is a riot of noise suggesting a lock being undone. Then there is the slightest creak and you can see an edge of sunlight -and the creatures hiss and scatter. Apparently you're supposed to go in alone.
The storage room has a slit-window allowing sunlight inside, and the sun is currently framed by the window. It's actually very harsh and unpleasant, and it takes a minute for your eyes to adjust. Once they have...
Clothes.
The room is filled with clothes thrown haphazardly about, in a dizzying array of styles and forms, male and female alike. There's no sanity to the organization, as if whoever put these here either did not care about the myriad differences or did not understand them. Male military uniforms weigh down ballroom dresses, overalls are dirtying beautiful white gloves, studded leather armor has torn silken finery, and the footwear...
... and you have no idea what you're expected to wear, beyond that your current clothes are apparently Not Appropriate.
[]Well. You're a lady now, or will be soon, so you'll dress like one. Beautiful and fragile and with a poofy dress that used to be the height of ladyness. Hopefully you can find something in decent condition... maybe in red...
[]Dress practical, maybe even a little masculine. Maybe include a hat, like the driver?
[]One of the military uniforms might send the message that you're devoted enough to kill or be killed for your spouse.
[]Tuxedo, gloves, tie, and black leather boots. Very formal, not overtly feminine. Maybe the Baron will like it?
[]Write-in. (So long as it's vaguely plausible for pseudo-medieval/Renaissance times, it's probably okay. I'd actually prefer a write-in/draw-in, in this case. Actually providing a visual is worth 3 more votes)
(Still block/plan voting for the two choices in the update)
Essentially ignoring the conversation in front of you, you focus on the thing that really matters: expressing your fondness for your spouse-to-be with a nickname! (And also saying or even thinking 'Baron of Soul-Consuming Carapace Shadows' every single time is awkward so it'd be nice to get around that)
You make soulful eyes not-entirely-accidentally and ask, "My lord, would you accept a nickname? Your full name is quite the mouthful."
The Baron twitches slightly."E̖͈̦͙̙̗͙̟̱̒̇̔̂͂̚h̩̻̤̩̝͚͕̲̋̊ͣ̃͑̅ͨ?̺̥͖̖̙̪̖̆̂̋ͪͭ̐̒̌̚"
Chirpily, you say, "Then I'll just call you Caras, then?" It's a foreign name that means black (According to a traveling priest, anyway), it's like combining 'carapace' and 'shadows' into one shorter word, and most importantly? It's cute.
The Baron shifts. "Ï̯̖̹͇̥̭̥ͮ̓̇̾̄̐?̫ͣ̍ͬ̅ͩ͑.̫̩͇̪͑̏͗̏.̲̳͍͇͉͇̗̩̓̚.̫͔̻̬̣ͦ̓̏͌͊ ̺̩̥͖̤͚̫̖̔ĩ̯̱̲̯̰̈͛f͍̥̭̭̟͙̘̈́̾̈́̓̽̂ͩ ͖͍̺̍ͤ̒ͦ̿̚y̩͈̞̬͊̋̓͋ͯ̉̋̇o̮̱͆̀̂u̹̬̳̞̽̀̉̓͆ͧͧͫ ͚̭̖̱̻͔̎̑͂m̥͎͑ͥṳ̤͈̯̫̺͚͓̲̈̑̍s͙̋̀t̬͉͂́͒̇͑̈́͐͋?̼͉̿ͪͮͩ"
You smile.
-------------------------
Forward in time to the clothing vault
Okay... well. You're a lady now, so... you'll dress like one? Maybe something red, like his eyes. You're not actually sure if anyone dresses like that anymore, but... might as well.
The incoherent mess is a nightmare to dig through, and you end up organizing it as you go in self-defense. Military uniforms stacked, folded somewhat sloppily, over in that corner, workman's clothing like the three blacksmith aprons you find stacked atop this piece of furniture, lower-quality women's clothing stuffed into the wardrobe (Which, inexplicably, was empty when you started?), silken finery placed atop a table, and then-
oh my yes.
There's a few rips you'll need to sew later, and it's going to be such a nuisance to walk in, but you'll look nice, and it's even red -and black!
Shucking your own clothes is easy. You have no real attachment to them, for one.
Getting the Perfect Dress on proves... difficult.
[]Power through on sheer stubbornness. You can do it yourself!... eventually!
[]Step out into the shadowy corridor and request assistance from the creatures. They've been helpful enough so far, right?
[]Demand the creatures help you dress. You're (almost) the lady of the manor now, so you're quite certain your station is above theirs.
[]Maybe you can... strategically cut away parts of it to make it easier to put on? You've still got a knife on you, and you're pretty sure you can arrange the cuts such that it looks basically the same.
[]Pout, and make do with a similar, smaller dress that doesn't look like nearly as much of a pain to put on. And is red and green instead of red and black, sigh.
-------------------------------------
After you get dressed for dinner, it's time to be escorted to dinner. You frankly have no idea where you are in the castle at any given moment, but eventually Caras' face comes into view and you're fairly confident you've arrived.
"Ọ͖͔̻̬̘̤̺̫ͮh̲̦̣̘̯̄́̄̐̀ͯ̍ͭͨ,͚̮̹̦̺͍̝̩̱̉͗̊ͣ̌͌" There's a pause. "W̼̫̹̜ͦ̿ͣ̽͒́a̤ͦ̀ͤͮi̬̖͍͕̰̖͕ͥ̏t͓͎͇̬̬͚͇͕̑̿̚.̳̱̹̠̗̳͙̞̖ͮ͋ͮ͑̾̆̆̚ ̥͓͈̼̰̙͇́͑̚W̻͙͓̞̘͕̖̽̏ͪ̒͂͗ͅh̺͈͚͇̗̺͚̞͑ͯ̃̈̊̒͒ͮy̤̻͓̺̥ͩ͊?̼͎͙̓͐̌̈ͭͦ̅̍̆"
Oh! You've totally got this!
[]"As a lady of standing, my appearance must reflect my station and so reflect yours." Show you know something of how to be a lady.
[]"It matches you!" Yaaaay!
[]"Do you like it? I chose it with you in mind." Coquettish blinking.
[]"Virmire said I had to be dressed appropriately." Let Virmire handle this. It's his fault anyway. Mostly.
[]No wait, you don't got this. Eh.
------------------------
In any event, it's time to dig in!
Um. You hear wriggling. And when you try to find utensils, instead you find something resembling a worm, apparently trying to escape your plate. (Is it a plate?)
Um.
[]Eat heartily and without complaint. What's good for the gander is good for the goose! Or something.
[]Ask if you can have something more human-type to eat. You're... not even sure what this is.
[]Does it have to be live? You're more than happy to eat whatever it is, you'd just like to not have it squirming on the way down.
[]On second thought you're not hungry. At all. Honest. (stomach grumbling) HONEST.
[]Can you have whatever is on Caras' plate, instead? You'll ask. It must be better.
(Plan voting again, but with three things to vote on this time)
Frustrated with the dress' refusal to cooperate, you finally decide you could use some assistance. Not worrying overly much about modesty (You cover the essentials with a randomly-grabbed outfit, but you don't bother to get dressed properly. You'd just have to take it off again to get the dress of delight on anyway), you peek out and say, "I could use some help getting this on."
Your response is silence, and then you remember how they scattered from the light. So you shrug, toss aside the modesty-covering whatever, and -carefully!- bring out the dress and close the door with your foot.
For a moment you just have dozens of red eyes staring out from the darkness, but then they boil forth, the dress pulled out of your hands -you startle and let go reflexively, not wanting to tear it worse- and after a moment where you're left wondering if they just made off with the thing, you feel it being lowered onto you. It takes some doing to work your arms in the sleeves and there's some rather violent motion involved in first getting the bodice pulled apart enough to actually fit around you, but compared to when you were trying to handle it yourself this is a breeze. If a bit tight.
It also involves bug-people intermittently crawling on you, but you're okay with that.
Once everything is in place, you give a regal-ish nod to the mass of eyes clustered in one corner. "Thank you, little ones."
After a pause, you remember what the original point of all this is, and say, "Lead on to the dining hall, then?"
They comply with no hesitation, and you follow, growing increasingly comfortable walking blindly through these dark halls.
--------------------------------
When Caras was confused as to why you changed clothes
"Virmire said I had to be dressed appropriately." You nod in Virmire's direction. Probably.
Caras' face tilts in the same direction, so you must've got it right. "E͔̭̪̞̟͙̓ẖ̮̯̺͚̲̈ͭ̂ͅ?̲̤͍̼͔̻͑̽ͯ ̣̠̤͈̻̗̮ͭ̾̆ͪͮ̽ͅW͉̩͖̪̗̝̤̬͐̓̍͐͆̃ͅh̭̙ͩ̑͑̍̋̃́y͉̱̹̞̺ͦͥͦ̔́ ̺̰͎̫͇̹̹ͧ̊̉ͦ̄̚d̯̰̥̗͍̊̃͊͗̇̈́̿̈́ͯi̱̝̥̘̫̬̅͒͛͛ͤd͖̖̩͕̳̗ͫͤͫ̄ͅ ̖̱̗̳̤̊ͬ͆ͪ̇̽y̲̺ͨ͑̒̎͋ͪ̚o͈̣̊̒͒̎̈̓ṳ̤̭̖͓͖͉́͗ͪ̒ͣ̅ ͕̠̣̰̖̎̀̃͐̚t̹͔̟̘̥͙̒̓̆͂̂̂ͅḛ̙͙̗̃͐͊l̬̩̪̳̪ͤ̆̔͂͋ͥ̚ḻ̮̖̖ͬ̾͗̌ͩ͆̆ͨ ̹̝̓ͤ̅̽ḭ̻̰̖̯ͪͩ͛ͅt̺͖̯̖͉ͥ̽͋̾̚ ͈͔̪͎̮̼͖̖̣̋̈́͛̂ͭ͋ͪ̒̋t̝͚̦͓͔̪̹͉ͧͨh̻̫ͤ͛̔̑ͨ͛̊̾a̤͔̹̹̤ͬ̂̌͐ͦt̰͒̀ͥͤ͐͂̓̑?̗͆̆̍̀̌ͥ̑"
"I͘-̡ ̡we͞l̷l, h͠u͞ma͞n̨s we̛a̛r f̸oŗma̵lwear҉ at f̡o͏r̸m̷a̸l d̷iǹn̶er̸s̕.̛ Right̡?" Virmire's glowing eyes swing your way, and you get the distinct impression he's hoping you'll save him.
[]"I wouldn't know," you say innocently. You're but a humble peasant girl, after all. For the moment.
[]"But I'm the only human here, and neither of you cares, right?" you point out quite reasonably.
[]"I like dressing nice," you say, with a nod toward Virmire. Which doesn't actually affirm his words, mind.
[]"That's my understanding," you say in the manner of simple fact. There's nothing else to add to that, really.
[]"Is this a formal dinner?" you say, curious. It doesn't seem much like one.
[]"Not usually these days." You're no historian, but you do know it's uncommon these days. As a little girl you actually thought it was purely the realm of fairy tale, actually.
-------------------------------------
Once Sabrina sits down -yes, in an actual chair- and finds that her food is alive and seems to be worms
Well, if Caras can eat it, so can you.
After taking a moment to check for utensils -there are none, saving you from having to worry about committing a faux pas by using the wrong utensil the wrong way- you dig in without commentary. It's surprisingly good! Mostly. And only some of it is worms: most of it seems to be some kind of vegetable mush, with a side of a sharply curved bowl filled with some kind of crawly bug that apparently can't climb out of so steep a bowl. It's practically a jar, really. The vegetable mush is bland, and a nuisance to eat with your hands -you have no idea how Virmire and Caras manage at all- and eventually you get tired of the queasy feeling produced by having a still-living thing go down your gullet and begin to very deliberately crush, snap, or otherwise kill your meals before they go in your mouth, but the worms and bugs taste surprisingly good. You're reminded of when your family slaughtered one of their cows, or the occasional veal brought in by the village hunters, only crunchy. So: actually delicious, if a bit odd. There's a few other things mixed in you don't even know how to describe, of which one vaguely shield-shaped thing produces a hideous burning sensation to the touch. You avoid that part of the table afterward, though thankfully your hand doesn't take long to stop bothering you.
Virmire and Caras are carrying on a conversation in between, erm, slurping? It's certainly not chewing. The full details are a bit beyond you, but you follow most of it well enough. There are three other barons whose lands border on Caras' -one Baron of Shifting Sands, one Baron of Freewheeling Raptors, and one Baron of Subterran Maggots- whom normally keep to themselves, but Shifting Sands has lately begun construction of a fort a little too close to the shared border, such that Caras suspects 'the stripling' expects to be able to simply take away some of Caras' territory without a fight. Caras' territory also borders with what he calls
You are given to believe, from the ensuing rant, that Caras' primary duty to The Council is to keep 'wretched burners' out of the country, which he's apparently rather bitter about, as the Council has forbidden all but 'a few trusted exceptions' to recruit human soldiers, on pain of death. Caras intends, this very night, to perform a raid on a burner encampment he discovered last night, not long before dawn. He expresses frustration that they will have likely done harm to one of his vassal villages in daylight hours, and possibly will have outright left the country already, beyond Caras' reach.
By contrast, the Barons Freewheeling Raptors and Subterran Maggots are apparently concerned with 'internal affairs, primarily', and Caras finds it galling that the Council would trust Freewheeling Raptors enough for them to qualify as one of the exceptions on the 'no human soldiers' rule. Virmire's response -"Y͏ou҉'̵v̸e ̶şaid,͘ sir̢e̢,͠ ̨ye̛s."- makes it clear this is a rather longstanding issue. You're unclear exactly why it bothers Caras so, though.
They also speak some about a journey in two weeks time to trade 'cores' with one 'Viscount of Dire Hollows', which becomes interrupted when-
"No, sir̵e͜.͏ ̷T͜ha̕t wil͞l n͞ó lon̕ger͠ be̢ my ̵d͠u̕t͠y no̢w ̀t͡h͠at,҉ e͝h͠,͝ ̵Mis͘s ̕S̕a̢b͡r͞i̕na is here͟.҉ I'̛v͡e͏ ͝beȩn o̢ve̵r t̴h̀i̵s.́"
Caras' gaze swings to you, and you have the distinct impression he'd quite forgotten about you.
[]A respectful nod. "Yes, for a marriage to be official, it must be finalized by someone in tune with the Great Plan." You're patient. Really.
[]You don't want to wait for a priest. "Oh, that won't be necessary at all. We just need a ring or some such if we want everyone else to know. Surely you have a couple lying about somewhere?" If the clothing vault is anything to go by...
[]No, seriously, you're not waiting for a priest. "We just need a kiss to seal the marriage." You're pretty sure that's not how nobles do it, but it's perfectly acceptable back home. It's how your parents got together.
[]Well, you want it official... but you don't want to wait for a priest... "A priest can consecrate a marriage later. We could declare ourselves married right now, really." You heard it from a traveling merchant who claimed he was told it by a local woman whose cousin's sister did it in some far-off land. Sounds legit.
----------------
Dinner finally ends, and you are quite tired. It was a long trip, and you exhausted yourself with your excitement on the way here.
It ends up cropping up in conversation, at which point-
There's a click, and for a moment most of Virmire's lefthand eyes seem to vanish. "T̕h͞is i͡s why̷ ͠y̷ou ̧śhou͠l̨d vi̵s͟i̸t your̕ v̶ąs̛s͠a͞ls," Virmire mutters. The eyes reappear, and in a more normal tone Virmire says, "Y҉e͠s̸,̀ ҉b͏ed̴,͜ ͏sir҉e. ͘H͝u̸ma͞n̨s̨, ͏eeeh͏. ͠I ̸forg͡e̶t w̵h̶a҉t ̡th͟e͜y ҉ca̶ll̢ ͜it, ̛b̵ùt͏ ͘the̡y go d̀orm͞a̡n̴t͝ ̷for̕ mány̴ ho͢u͠r̴ś, ̧n͘or҉m͡a̕ļly͟ at nig̛ht.̕"
[]"No no, I'm fine! We can do this... integration thing right away! Don't worry about me, Caras!"
[]This sounds romantic. "Can we do the integration thingy as part of the marriage ceremony?" Big doe eyes.
[]Wait. "You don't sleep?" B-b-b-but you were looking forward to sharing a bed!
[]Whatever. You just... need to sleep. Soon. Everything else can wait until morning.
[]Wait a second. Caras is... like an owl? Awwww. You'll start on staying up nights and sleeping days! Right now! That way you can share your days nights with Caras! Oh and I guess there's that integration whatever to do, why not.
Caras' face swings back and forth between the two of you a few times, and then his jaws click once. "S̼̤͔̈o̩̭̩͓̤͓̅̄ͨ̿͊̈ ̭̯̈ͭt̙͔̦̥̱̠ͮ̇ͨ̏̐h̙͓̻̤̱͇̩ͫ͊ͨ̚ì̹̳͇̜͍͓̟̙̗̏̈ͥ̇͋̃̐s̘̞̜̺̟̓̏̓ ̯̣̬̫͍̻̔̓ͅw͈̜͔͎̦͕̭ͬ́̎̀͐͗͌i̙̤͉̣̗͈̪̖̝̓̿ͫ̋̚l̘͙̖̫̙̊̂̈l̗̝̣̭͈̰͎̅͊̅͛ͅ ͕̣̯̟͈ͥ̊ͣ͒b͈̜͙̳̗̆̋ͫ̅̿ḙ͈͉̣̲̞̦ͫͦ͆̋̓.̜̻̭̘̫̝̺ͮ͛ͣ.͓͖͙̱̥̰́͋͗̃ͅ.͍̰̫̙̰̿͋̏ ̜͎̰̠̒ͧ̈͊a͎͈̣̼̠̋ͦ͌̚ ̫̥̗͓̦̰͔͑̾r͖̜̦̼̩̓͗ọ̜͑͑u͙͓̯̜̣̰̗̤ͬ̄t̠̭̱̘̤͎ͭͩ̍ͫ̽i̘̓ͯ̒̈̄̅̌̈n͓͈͇̱ͤ̎́ͮ͊̔̍ẹ̫͔̥̮̬̳͌͌͋̓͆̇ͧ ̞̘̝͚ͣ̈́̆̌͌̿t̰̖̃̐͊̃ͯ̋h͈̮̳͉̬̟̦̖͗ȋ̗͓͓̥̰̟̗͆̍̿̂̑͒n̙̭̳̙͉͙̻̍̌̿͋ͪ͌ͣ͛g̞̗͉̩̼̰̃͛̎̎̚?̺̼͙̺̉̄ͬ̚" He doesn't sound thrilled by the idea.
You and Caras say it together: "-visited his vassals." "͙̥͚̭͍̽ͩ͌ͮ͂-̭̲͈̘̃ͨ̄̆̿́͊ͥv̮̳̝͉͌̒ͧ̍͒̿i͙̥̮̙̗̐̄̑͊ͯ͗ͪ̚s̱͈̘ͧȋ̹͓̪͕̱͓̳̠̋t͔͈͔͕̼͖̋̇́̓̿̊̍e͉̜̺̰̹̼̞͆d̰̝̭͈ͩ̽ͪͩ͑͌ͪ̐̚ ̳̲͚̮̰͈̬ͨͩͯ̽̂͌ͭ̚m̙̳̼̟̜̆̃͊y̦̰̗̮̯̥̗̠̝͗̿ͩͮͧͧͩ̈ ͇̘̎̅v͈͉̦̏̾ͫ̄a͎͖̜͍̫͂ͨs̱͓̳͊̚ș͍̙̩̠̲͎̻̔̔̔̽a̗ͭͅl͙̖̪͕͙̼̯̠̄̈͑̐̔̒̀̂̈́s̲͇̩͍ͧͫͭ̇"
You smile when Caras and Virmire's gazes swing your way.
"Oh no͜, ͏tw͜o̡ o̷f the̢ḿ. I̛ ̴t̢ho͜u̶g̶ht-̢" and then Virmire lets out a low, sudden hiss, which startles you in its resemblance to a snake. He seems to be shaking his head unhappily. You think. His head is rotating back and forth, anyway.
Well, Caras likes you, and that's the important thing.
--------------------------------------------
On the topic of marriage
You nod respectfully, and confirm their vague beliefs. "Yes, for a marriage to be official, it must be finalized by someone in tune with the Great Plan."
Virmire stares at Caras for a moment, before speaking as if to a toddler or the village idiot. "Yo͞u do ̷no͡t̢ ̷k̷e͢ęp͜ run҉n̵e̵r̀s͡ ̀o̶n̨ ͘h͞and̷, s͡i͏r͢e. ̕It̸ ra͟th͘er̛ ham̶s̸tr͠i̵ņg͢s͏ me̢.̵"
Caras makes a sound like a bird call, high and fluting. It's strangely beautiful, like if oil was a sound.
You startle to a more full wakefulness at the realization that Caras prefers the night. Like an owl! Which is good, because you immediately resolve to start sleeping days and having waking nights, so you can share every night with Caras!
As such, you interrupt. "Oh no, Caras, it's fine. I can sleep days and be up all night with you, it's fine."
"Ac͠t͟u̴alļy,̢ ͠a br̷ide ͝w̷a͏s͜ ͞śelècted͢ to ̵c̷ov̀e͏r da̸y͡t̵i҉m̶e͡ ǫper͟a̢tio̴n̷s an͘d͞ l͜ong trip̵s." You didn't know that, and you feel vaguely resentful of Virmire now.
Caras' face rears up. And up. And... how high is the roof? "I̼̝̳͖̱ͭͨ̾ ̖̬͔̘̻̫͔̍̍s͍̃̀͂͆͗ͣͪ̓͂e͙͔̝̯̿̄e̬͚̤͉͈̫̙̯̝͗̀̔ͦ̾ ̫̯̹͚̓ͯm̺̦̼͓͖̟̪̅̽̇͂̒e̯͂̿̽̄ͬ̾̚ȓ͍̣̰͈̦̇̀̀͐ḯ̟͔̦̺̖ͪ̒̈́ͥ̈̐ẗ̲͔̮̼̳͈̺͎̉ͅ ̲͍͒̉̓ͅi̜̪̘̤͖͋̏̄ͤͫ͆ͬ͋̚n̪͔͔ͯ̉̔̈͆ ̮̤̜̽͐ͥS̗͔̰͎͍̊̒a̲͉̻̳̽̽̐̑̇ͅͅb̟̰̜͇͒ͮ͑̓͂̆ͫr͙̞ͤ̑̏ͬi̭̹͕ͫ́̑ͬͥͤ̓n̟̬̠̠̟̹̘͑̊a͇͙̰ͯ͐̿̚'̗̖̜ͮ͐̍ͬs͓͙̖̹̯̼̗̓̋ͭ̃ͫ͂̏ͮ̈́ ̥̤̖̰͔̔̀̃̚i̞͔͉̩̹ͤn͕̬ͬ̏̐̽̑̈́͂t̲̬͎͆ͪ̅͂ͤ͗ͣe̪̼̥̱͍͚̲̲ͥ͗ͪͦṅ̩̠̩͚̪̥̍͛̎ͤͅt̼͕̠̓̄,͇͙̲̠͇͎͓̉͛͌͆͗̄ͥ͗ͧ ̬ͤ̓V͉̭̗̻̺͎͚̄ī̺͈̭͚̙ͧ͂̎̆̓r̰̤̼͈̖̙͊̉m̼͕̱͚̪͚͋̄͛ͣ͂̀ͭ̀̚ͅi̱̖̰̯͕̻̾̓̄͑r̻̋̎̏ͨ̆̔e̖̿͂ͬͧ͒.̦ͬ̃ͮ͐̈́̾͛ ͍͇̫̘̩̫̩̎͌̈́̎̒͒͛C͉̩͎ͬ͗̔ͬ͐̏ͩl̥͊e̼̤̼͎͋̈̊̍̀̂a͎͇̹̱̹̦̻̾̂ͯͦ͌̾̅ͅr̦̟̤͎̻ͪͤͪ̐̓ͦ̃͂l̩̬̬̲̮ͬͨ̇̃͒͑̌y̠̦ͥ̆ͧ̊̑,̜͎̬̥̎̈́̈ ͈͓͈̜̝͉̟̈́̇̒̓w̠̠̤̺̺͖̌̾ͭ͊ͣ̌̈͋̏ḛ̹̳̙̓̽ͫ̊ ̯̝̯̗̯̫̟̳̋ͥͧ̿̀̒̽ͤăͭ͐ͣͥ̒͒ͅl͈̥̹̹̰͕̣̝͖̍͛ͮ̃̍̅̾͗̃l̬̠̳̟̤͇̠͂͋͛ ͎̳̹̝̘̯̯̎̉̋͑͊ͧͥͪ̚ͅh̩͈̝̖̱͓͆ͅa̺̯̤̩̱̺ͪ͊v̱͉̰̪̤̺̈̇̅ͥ̑͗ê̻̹͇̮ͅͅ ̟͚̲̲ͮ̊̀̂̋ͪͅm̫͉̭̟͖̥̻͗̆͒ͣ͒̎u̯̭̖̱̣̳̓c̫͇̦̝̈́̿ͥͭ̏ͣ̓̚h̼̹̬̗̗̺̳͋͂̌ͧ͛̉ ̖̣̘͖̲͎̋̀̿̎͒ͅt̩̞̹̜͚ͤ͑̋ͭ̔o̥͆̀ ̘̥̰͔̟͋ͦ͋l͓̬̠̘͉̒̋ẹ̫̟̹͇̮̞̯ͭ́͂̒̌͊̎̆ȧ͇̺̞̖̠͚̈͆̋̌ͨͨ̃ȑ̜͕̜͇̭̬͎̱͗͛n͕̪͐̎̋ ̦̆ͬ̽͋͐a͇̻̠͚̘̘͔͉͎ͩ̎̔̓̓̔ͤ̅͌b̩̠͇̖̭͔̬̺ͭͧ̏̿ͪͭ̂o̪̟̻͊̽̋̑̉ͯ͗̉u̠̬̾̓͗t̲͎͚̥͖͙̯͍̯͋̈͑̚ ͚͉̘̙͙̜̣͇͖͆̅̓͗ͫͪ͑ẻ̫̟͊̒ͭͨa̠̣̙̗ͨ̅͗ͪ̇̅̒ͬc͍̙̫̮̮̺̓̅͆ḥ̬̗͌ͫ̇ͦ͑ ̮̫̭̱̯̟̫̙̮̀͑ŏ͇̟͙̻͖̫̎̒͛̒ẗ̰͖́ͮ͛̄̾ͦ͑͛ͪẖ͙͛̏ḛ̮͓͖̩̙̬ͪ̍ͩṛ͖̺̫̗̻̝̹͂ͣͅ,͍͉̗͉̙͈̋ͪ̿ͧ̓ͅ ͎̝̳͉̱̱͚̽͌̾̈́͊́̄ȃ̻̌͌̾͛́ͭ̌n̬͔̱̞̜̲̙͖̋̓d͇͖͋͊.̥͓̟ͨ͐ͪ̉̅ͦ.̣͇̮͚̯̥͍͉̎̃.̱̖̟̼̟͎͓̼͖̆ͧ͛ͮͤ"
Caras' face focuses on you, from somewhere up where you'd normally expect a treetop. ".͕̤̼͈̮̟͙͔̔̑̌.̠̱̫̅͌̀.̹̖̥̥̼̯̮̦̓̆̅ ̼ͦ͌h͉̫̖̰̣͉͈̣̆̑́̅̾͌o̭̰̭̫͎̗̙͒̄ͮw͖̼̘͑̈́̍ͩ̑͗ͭ ̥̬̪͗͐͋̾̽ͭ͊́̈s̼̼̣͋ͫͭ̚t̪̤ͣ̌̐ͭr̹̘̬̃̀i̦̱͎̓͌̔̒ͬĉ̘̙̼̬͙͍̏̒̌͆t͓̟̜̝̀̓ͬͮ̐ ̟͚̣͖̰̼̘̑̈́̐i̝͍ͤ̄s̙̘̺̾ͩ̌ͨͬ̈̈́ ̠̩̗̖͉̯̅͋ͧt̫̳̻͇͇͔͍͛̿̚h͍̘̰͗i̺̩̥̩̰̹͉͆̇̈̎ͨ̏ͣͪs̤͈̳̝̥̳̘̏͊̈ͧ̒͒̐̂ ̟̮̭̈́̃ͤn͓̯̟͉̣̣̝̅ͬ̈́̆̏͑ͬ̚ͅë̫͉̘̩͇́̔ͣͦ̇͛ĕ̦̤̈́̌͂d̝̔ͭ̆ͥ́͊̎̆ͅ ̫̹̤͇̈̍ͦͧo͇̯̗̤̩̍͋̽̎̽͆̐̓ͨf̭̘ͮͦ̃ ͕͙́̒ͭy͎͇̠̠͈̮̤͈̻̓o̹̐̉ͧͦ̓̒̾u̼͇͇̯͕̓͌̑̽̊͂̚r͕̯̩̣̯̖̦ͨs̠͇̗̐̾ͭͪ̃ͩͣ̌,̻̫͚̤͍͓̥̥̋̔ ̰̞͓͉̘̖̱̳͐ͧ̍̎́̽̄̂S̞̭̦͉͍̯̬͐͋ͦ̏̓̽a̗͎̗͓̙̿ͯ̾ͦ̂̈́̿ͪ̚b̦͓̖̂̈́ȑ̟̂̄ͫi̱̲͚̖̺͈̐͗ͯ̐̊n͇̖̳̤̽̅ͨ̇̄̐ͦ̇ͅa̤̱̔̉ͭ̽̓̂͛?͚̺̹̳̘͓̣ͬͪ͛̏̄̍́"
Well. You've not exactly experimented on the topic. But you're reasonably confident that: "I can stay up a n- excuse me, a day or two, if I must, occasionally, and... I normally sleep about a third of the overall day?"
[]"No! I won't allow it!" Caras is yours! No sharing!
[]Backpedal! "I can stay up days instead, it's fine." Aarggharghurgh no it's not fine but you're not having competition. After a pause you add, "But I would like, this once, to delay so we can do this... 'integration'."
[]Frown. "That's not acceptable in human culture, Virmire. One pair, for life." Seriously, isn't Virmire the knowledgeable one? (Okay there's all those men and women who don't hold themselves to this but they don't count)
[]Stare blankly. Noooo. They wouldn't.
[]Wait, Caras didn't want you? Sadface.
[]"I will do the work of two women! Don't you worry." Whatever it takes.
---------------------------------------------
Once the matter of this 'second bride' business is put to rest, Caras dismisses Virmire 'to its duties' and walks (?) you to a basement location for 'the integration.' You follow along with one hand against his right flank, a little nervous about taking the stairs in this darkness absolute.
"S̺̫̺̹̒̈́͌̌͆̓̾̃t̻̲̩̪̪͈͈̓̔̈̽̓̔̏ã͉̬̲̝̼͗̚ǐ̥̮̪̮͎̱̦̘ͯr̝̤̙̓ͫ̓͆̇ͪs̗̖ͬ̊?̼̪̙̋ͫ̅" Caras repeats blankly when you mention your concern.
But in the end the two of you are unable to quite pull off this particular conversation, mystified by each other.
As it turn out, that's because the basement entry is a shallow slope. Which... now that you're thinking about it... could Caras manage stairs? Probably not, if the slope is anything to go by.
The walk takes you past twenty or so beings whose glowing red eyes are placed somewhat higher than your arm would reach if you stretched all the way up on tiptoe. They stand to the sides of the path, and running your other hand against the wall shows there's insets in the wall, which they are standing in. They don't seem to react to Caras or yourself at all, and Caras ignores them himself, so you ignore them too.
Eventually a dim green light approaches. The slope is curved, and it takes a while for the source to come into view.
It's a pool, glowing from within just enough for you to see inside of it and see its edges. It appears to be held within solid rock. Hanging above it is an object streaked with red glows, whose general shape suggests a heart to you, while inside the pool, below the object, are a number of other dots glowing red through the green. You also see many, many dull blue glows and a handful of yellow glows peeking through the green. There's also, if you squint carefully, black shapes with no glow at all. The pool ripples in an odd way, the ripples all going to your left, originating seemingly from the opposite end of the pool.
You think you might also see little creatures, like the ones that helped you with your dress, moving back and forth, across the ceiling, from the 'heart' to a specific point beyond the pool.
With a distinctly organic sound, another red glow slides out of the 'heart' to land in the pool with a plop.
[]You'll ask Caras for clarification before you do anything here.
[]Maybe he means for you to throw yourself into the pool. Oh! Better get the dress off first. Wouldn't want to ruin it. A swim sounds nice anyway, really.
[]You're pretty sure you could get one of the thing in the pool by just leaning in from an edge and... do something. That sounds like a start?
-[]Grab a red glow, underneath the 'heart'.
-[]Grab a blue glow, surrounding the red ones in droves.
-[]Grab a yellow glow, one of the few, off away from the rest, alone.
-[]Grab a lightless, lifeless thing from the pool.
[]You're having serious misgivings about this entire thing. Can we cancel? Go home, forget this ever happened?
[]"Could we... just not do the integration?" This is creepy.
[]"Is there a, um, different way of doing the integration?" There's gotta be options, right?
Abruptly, something comes clambering out of the pool, visible to you primarily for its silhouette. It seems to have one red eye.
"Ó̲̼̯̯̮̦̬̆͛̌ͤh͈̭̑͊̋̿͂ͤ,͍͍̘͙̲̇̅̒̎ͧͫͮ ̩̘͈ͥ͆ͬ͌ͦf͚̣̫̹̖͎͛͆̅͐i̩͙͓͒͂r̩̭̯̺͙͉ͣͧ̓̓͆̚ș̭̦͖͇͍̇̈́ͅẗ̖̮̲́͛ ̗ͬͭ̍̓͗̍̓ͪ̔r̳͍͙̺̪̝̜ͬ͊͐ͅu̲̝̠͖͖̤̝ͯͭ͗̓̆ͅn̳͍͓̯͉͚̫̊̂ͭͫń͎̖e͇̹͙̫̿̌ͅr̩̲̣̯̙͙͑̓͑̑ͪ̐ͫ̂ͭͅ'̝͔̜͈̖͖͍͕̃̎ͅs̯̩͍̆ ͍̞͖̺̓̎d̼͇̫̫̘̳̳̍̅͒ͧ̓̐ͭ̉o̥͍̞̠͇̫͈̻̽͑̎ͅṇ̲̻͙̤͚ͦ̏̎ȇ̗͎̞͇ͬ͆̃ͅ.̝̯̪̈̅ͥ" Caras remarks absently. Then there's a pause. The silhouette shakes itself like a dog, spraying green water everywhere. It... seems to lose its glow fairly rapidly. Whatever it is, it proceeds to zip on past you and Caras at shocking speed, perhaps comparable to a galloping horse.
After some hesitation, you firm your resolve: you are not losing to some hypothetical second bride. No way. No. As such, you skirt around the pool's edge to the other side, shuffle your skirt back as best you can, roll up a sleeve, and lean in to grab one of the red glows near the edge. It... sticks, and takes some twisting to get it to detach.
It looks kind of like an egg, if eggs were soft and pitch-black aside from a glowing red point at one end. It's larger than you'd realized, too, though not so large you can't swallow it whole. Um. Is that what you're supposed to do?... you ask Caras exactly that.
Initially, it feels like nothing. You were sort of expecting an immediate reaction, but no. In fact, after you've swallowed it, Caras calls out for you to 'come along, then'.
You frown at your still-wet arm, and resign yourself to having to hold that arm away from the dress to avoid stains.
You actually get most of the way back up the basement, wet arm against Caras' side, before you notice anything. Your back feels... weird. There's intermittent flashes of light, and some sense, like how you know whether you're balanced or not, that points to hundreds of little points all about you, which flickers in and out.
You nod vaguely. Now you're feeling nauseous, and it's making it difficult to even think.
"Y̠̝̱̟̭̻̫͇ͧ͌̽̇o̲̫͚̦̩̪̹̹ͣ̽ͨ͐͆̚u͔ͬͫ́̎ͮ̈̒'̦̺͇̱̗̇͗ͩ̈́ͯ̅ͫ̊ͅl̞̜͓ͨ̒ͩͥͨ̚l̥̣̦͓̯̞̭̹͉ͭ̈̅ͤ͑ ̺͕ͨͮ̍̓͊ṉ̺͍̥̗ͨ̊̎͋͗͌̿̍ẹ̜̞̻͍̫̳͊̾ͧͩ̂e̩̦̪ͩ̑ͦ̽̀̓ͥ̉d͎̭̺͙̯̃̊̌̈́͛ͫ̑̄ͩ to go dormant f̤͖̻̯̖̙͇̻͂ͭ̂̂ő̫̝̘̱̲̟̞̃͗ͯͣr̟̻̟̟̅ͥͪͨ ͔̟̹̩̏ͮͣ̍̿̂ä̙̖ͤ̒̓̚ ̖̦̄͑ͪt̟̯̝͉ͦ̈́̿̚i͚̲͚̜̞͕̟̒̃m̠͕̰͇͉̹̩̠̘̌̐́̓ͫ́̚e͕̫̣͙̭̙̩ͣ̔͌̑̊ͬͅ.̜̜͍ͫ͆̾́͗̎ͥ̂ͯ Or so ť̤̝̻͋ͮ̆̊ͭ̋ͥ̒h̯͎͎͙̯̥̝̹́ͩe̫̗̝͉ͯ͌̐ ̹͙̮̩̱̋M̺̱͔̳̬̜͊̓ͬa̼͗r̤̫̦͍̜̜̞ͧͯͥ̋q̜͇̙͚̠͔̦̞͐̂u͍̟̯̖ͬ̾i͖͚̳̠͒ͯ̊s̜̲̣̥ͧ̇̏̇ ͎͎̠̪̠̗̱͚͂̿ͪt̹͖̟͍̟̤͔̮͂̾̇̓̀̄ͅe̖͍̜̬̱̺̓ͫ̇l͓̼͓̟̱̰̼͚ͪ̽̈ͮ̈̀l͔̳̫͖̳̙̳̫ͧͮ͌ͥ̋ͬs͖̲͉̤ͧ̿̒͆ͥ͑ͧ̋ͅ me."
You feel very, very aware of one of the sentinels, and feel the bizarre desire to make it do something. Anything. You have the thought of it raising one foot -and it does. And you know it does. Which is baffling, because you're still blind.
"O͎̤̘͇̻̘̥͌̂͒̌̐ḥ̤̙͓͎̰͎̘ͨ̉ͧ̌,͓̳̱̃̽̽̍ͧͩ ͈̪̿̾̍̂e̘̒͌̎̏͊̾̆̿x̘̝̣̼̭̥̰ͫ͛͊ͬc͍̜͈̀͒̉̊̽̊̈́̚e͉͍̱̞̮̥̅̀̔́̓ͦͤ̅͋l̮̪̮̟̗͓̠ͮ͒͐ͨ̈ͥl̥̙͙̮ͯͩ̅e͓͈̖͖̲̯̤̩̽͊ͪ̍n̟̫̦̒̌̾̇ͨͬͧ̈̚t̖̟̩͍̻̗͉̮̬ͨ̾͆͊͋́ͩͭ̚.̝͂ I thought i͇͎̫̮̹̩̱ͧ́ͥ̃t̹̦̺̎̾ͤ ̘͔̖̤̗͑̋̾ͫͮ̿ͬͭw̙̪̥̲̟ͧ̂̈́̀̊̽ͪ̚o̹̭̱̟͙̮̿ͥ̈́͋̄̐u̜̔̉̿͋͌͐̂l̼͙̟̋d̬̝̋̈ ̭̼̗̭ͪ̏̏̓̉̊̄̏t͈͕̳̲̝ͦ̋̅̉͛̀͒ͪͅā͍̫̼͙͈̻̫̞k̯͓̙̏ͫ̓̆́e͓̖̟̻̝̙̠̒ͫ̒ longer."
You awaken in a bed. It's dusty. Though you see no light source, the room is... you're not sure. You want to say it's pitch black, but you feel entirely at ease with it, and know its exact dimensions. It's small -cozy- and largely empty. Aside the bed, there's a chamber pot. You note it has a slit window, currently blocked off by a curtain. You feel quite certain it's still night, though you're not entirely sure why you hold this conviction.
You seem to be alone in the room, but... you s̻̤̝̦̯̰͋͛ͭ͐͌̅̃͌͛͘è̵̳̱̞̋̓̑ͫ͊ń̝͕̖̝̯͈̬̯͇̉͂s̶̸̢͎̦̭͒̔ͧ̈̆e̵̛̯̙ͧ̊̈́ͤͧ̇ͥ̊̀... that you're not alone. In the room, yes, but not in your heart. There's... a lot of motion. All around. And... you s̤̗̬̟͎̏́̇͗́̕e͉͓͌̆͝͡nͫ̏͏̴̟͙͖̣͓͍̫s̵͈̝̲̱͐͛̾é̡͍͇̦̤̖̱ͬ̾͑̕͟ a group far away, dimly. They're doing something important. You think.
Everything feels weird.
[]This must be 'the integration'! Delight! Now you just need the priest to officiate the marriage and you and Caras will truly be one!
[]This is a bit more than you imagined when you are coming to Caras' castle. You're ambivalent, now. Is this even reversible?
[]Are... you still human?...
[]Trust in the Great Plan trust in the Great Plan...
[]Whatever the case, you have your duties as Caras' lady, and shall comport yourself as such. There's no reason to... react to all this.
(I'd intended for another thing to vote on, but earlier places for a vote would've basically just stalled the Quest and later places really need this spot done first)
Delightful! This must be 'the integration'! Now all that's left is for the priest to show up, and truly you and Caras will be united!
You sit up, and take a look at yourse- drat. You're still in the lovely dress, and it has new tears. Whoever carried you to bed wasn't terribly careful. Sigh. More sewing to be done.
Your s̴͖͔̜ͣͦͬ̏̋e̯͔͚͖̖̒́͒͛n̼͖͓̣͍̭̹̎ͬ͛ͤ̂̔s̡͇͇̺̪̣̉̑̓̊̉e̠ͭ̆̕ tells you that there's three little industrious workers stacking themselves in front of your door. Okaaaay. You get out of bed, moving carefully to avoid adding more tears to the dress, and make your way to the door. You're... quite certain they are here for you, though it's difficult to say why.
Why does this castle have a door that is so inconvenient for its single most common denizen to operate?... wait. Why do you k̙̟̗̼̦̥̬ͨ̿ͩͦ̃n͋̉̊o̰w̛͚̗̮ that?
Fascinating.
In any event, you twist the knob and the three beings fall in, landing against your dress and... tearing it some more. Mmmmaybe you should change out of it before it's rags. Anyway, the three of them are... you're pretty sure it's the same kind of creature that helped dress you, lead you about in the dark before, and smashed the carriage and its hauler at Caras' direction before. They're cute. And eager to please, you feel certain.
On impulse, you ask, "What is it?"
Escort! Escort!
Ah! They... talked? No, they didn't, but it feels like they did. They're here to take you somewhere.
"Can it wait?"
Escort! Escort!
Errrr. They don't seem to understand the question.
Drat. Okay, fine, you'll see what this is about.
------------------------------------
"Ah, there you are, my lady."
That sounds like Virmire, but not. Ooooh, this is very odd. Oh, yes, there he is. Still short, still many glowing red eyes.
"You seem much improved, my lady."
It's certainly nice to be able to walk through the castle without worrying you'll trip on something unseen any moment.
Of course, you ask the first thing on your mind. "Where's dear Caras?"
Virmire twitches. No, wait, he doesn't, but it feels like he does. Your... eyes?... report that he doesn't move at all. Something else tells you about the reaction. "He's off on the raid. He'll be back soon, make no mistake he better be but for the moment it is time that I bring you more into the fold."
Oh?
It feels like Virmire draws himself up, though again nothing about his actual appearance changes. This is so odd. "Yes. Sire really ought to have informed you himself, beforehand, but he is careless at the best of times when it comes to the small things. It falls to myself, and now you, to handle the small yet critical details he overlooks, so he may remain focused on the bigger picture."
All right.
"That part will be primarily my duty, and you need not concern yourself with it unless I am overburdened or your own duties are currently light. Or I am absent, I suppose, but that shouldn't happen. Instead, you are sire's eyes, ears, and fang out in the wider world, particularly beyond the borders or, worst case, in the event of a daytime attack."
Your stomach rumbles, and you abruptly realize you are famished.
Virmire continues, seeming oblivious. "Additionally, it will be your job to monitor for plots and plans from sire's human vassals. There are those who benefit from sire's protection who are jealous of his position and use his limits to plot treachery during the day." He pauses for a moment, and then rather soberly adds, "My predecessor was rendered in a poorly-timed attempt to assassinate sire. If he hadn't been off fighting Burners at the time, this castle would likely have been turned over to the Burners by these fools." A thought seems to strike him suddenly. "Burners are not kind to humans who are more loyal, so likely your own village would've been put to the torch shortly after."
You feel ill at the thought.
[]"I-I would like to table this discussion for the moment." Distractiondistraction oh yes! "I find myself hungry enough to eat a horse, and cannot concentrate so famished."
-[]Optionally, change into something less wonderful so as to protect this dress.
[]Disquieting. You need to know more. Your hunger can wait. "What is a Burner, Virmire?"
[]Wait. There are people under Caras' protection who return this kindness with assassination attempts? "Virmire, please tell me you know which village this assassination you mentioned came from." They will die screaming.
[]Fine, fine, whatever. "Is the priest here yet?" Marriage first, everything else next.
[]You interrupt. "Actually, I would like to know more about the integration. It is... fascinating, so far, but I feel I don't understand it. What am I become, Virmire?"
[]No no no, Virmire, you need to know what your tools are. If you are the eyes, ears, and fangs of Caras, how do you fight? These other explanations can wait.
[]You really, really want to go meet Caras. This is all irrelevant.
-[]Optionally: wait, you should change into something more friendly to traveling outside!
You steel yourself after a moment. No, the Burners can wait. If you are Caras' eyes, ears, and fangs, you need to know what your tools are. Virmire is nattering on about... not irrelevancies, but they aren't what you need to know first.
So you interrupt. "Virmire, as fascinating as this all is, that which is most critical to my duties is knowing what I shall use to accomplish them. In a word, what are my tools?"
Virmire takes this with surprising equanimity. "You would know better than I, my lady. Very well. You are already familiar with the Workers, of course-" Virmire's head twitches toward a half dozen of the cute little creatures that have been so helpful, this particular batch in the middle of beheading a particularly large rodent. Ew. "-but you may not realize they are much stronger than they appear. They handle countless minor and major duties throughout the castle, and if you are ever to handle the construction of a fort or similar you will need to bring them to bear. Unfortunately, it is not viable for Sire to proof them against the sun, so they will likely be primarily at the periphery of your duties, but do not forget them."
Workers. They work. Okay. That's easy.
"You should also already be familiar with the Guardians. Well. Seen them, anyway." Not really. Does Virmire really not realize how blind you were before the integration? "Also not practical to proof against the sun, and normally kept dormant, they are the castle's last line of defense. In the event that the castle is attacked while sire is away, you will need to buy time to awaken them -the actual awakening will likely be handled by me- but once that time is bought they are quite effective in open battle. Slow, though, so don't get it in your head you'll be able to chase fleeing foes with them."
The creatures in the insets, on the way to the basement?
"Speaking, of: Runners." Oh, you know that one. "Sire usually dispatches them to villages, such as how one has been sent to retrieve a priest, and occasionally to carry letters to other nobles, but they also carry a paralytic venom. It's really intended for self-defense, but I would think the myriad other uses obvious. They're proofed against the sun, somewhat, though don't be sending them out at high noon." He pauses, as if a thought just occurred to him. "Please don't, really. They'll do as they are told without a second thought, no matter how stupid or self-destructive it might be. This is true of most breeds, especially as sire is personally not fond of conversation." He sighs. "He only bothers with me because he finds the tedium of overseeing the duties I handle worse than listening to me." Then you get the distinct impression he's giving you the stinkeye, but he moves on without further commentary, making you doubt this bizarre impression.
"The Gatekeeper you've also seen. I don't know why sire insists on that name, really. They can sniff out Burner worms, so yes we have one standing watch at the gate, but they also are used to check for infestations in the villages periodically." Oh, the driver. Yes, you have -in glimpses and snatches over the years- seen his kind skulking about the village. You'd always wondered what that was about. Though. Burner worms? That sounds rather more worrying than when Caras was just angry about Burners trying to cross the border. "They're a bit more clever than most of the breeds, but they're still loyal to a fault and fairly straightforward. They can handle working out how to cross a damaged bridge without oversight, for example, but their solution is liable to be 'run fast and jump far' instead of noticing that the gap could be bridged with a nearby plank of wood. They're also not practical to proof against the sun. Sire did it, once upon a time, but it meant they couldn't find Burner worms at all. We had to render an entire village because of this mistake."
Oh. Oh dear. Would that be Estvallee? It went quiet when you were but a little girl, and you never got a proper explanation of why.
Burners sound awful.
"The Hauler you've also seen. It's ill-used, really, but we have a core for it, so it's an option. It holds up well in direct sunlight, and- hm. Perhaps sire was mistaken in rendering that Hauler. Don't humans sometimes, eeeh, ride is the term yes?" You've no idea what he's driving at. Virmire seems disappointed. "Those... four-legged things. The ones that eat grass."
Puzzled, you say, as if a question, "Sheep?"
It feels like Virmire scowls. "No no, not the taxed one, the, ah, the fast one."
"Horses?"
"Yes! That's the name. Or. I guess we could requisition a horse." Virmiiiire be clearer. "A mount! That's the word. So you don't hold back a force with your slow pace."
Rude.
... but yeah, the 'Hauler' was like a horse, and horses are faster than you. So maybe you should pester Caras into making one!
"Hm. I'm sorry, my lady, sire just hasn't used Haulers much in my time here. I think you'll have to ask him if you want more information."
Virmire feels like he draws himself up, puffed up with pride or some such. He's still basically immobile. Fascinating. But weird.
"But that brings me to the three -at this time, hopefully the Viscount of Dire Hollows will keep his end of the bargain- breeds of most immediate relevancy to your own duties, my lady." Oooooh let's hear it come on. "First is the Boulder. I... confess that I suspect this is one case where sire has a sense of humor, because I cannot explain the name otherwise. Unfortunately, sire has all our current Boulders in the field with him, but I will point one out to you once he is returned. Boulders will, after the marriage I suppose, be first and foremost your soldiers, before sire even." Really? Oh, hopefully they're cute. "Unlike all our other breeds, they are well-suited to long-distance travel, as they simply curl into a ball and allow their unusual shells to block the light out entirely, and in combat they are quite difficult to harm and their own proboscis-" Their what? "-is a solid weapon. They also are a good tool in Burner combat, as they can roll at the enemy as a form of attack, safe from the depredations of fire." He pauses for a moment. "Don't let them stop on your feet. They weigh considerably more than they appear to. I lost a leg by underestimating them." He gestures with a stick-thin arm (?) at one of two legs on his left. You note he has two legs on his right. Er.
But okay, Boulders. Your soldiers. Yours. Got it.
"Next is the Crawler. They... well, I guess you could say they resemble sire, himself, but smaller. And with bigger legs. They can climb sheer surfaces and are sire's preferred breed for taking prisoners, as their legs are actually quite useful for catching and holding humans. And other animals, I suppose. They are... well, not very tough, when it gets down to it, but they can abandon segments and keep functioning with minimal harm, so they take quite some time to actually stop. Their jaws are not very strong, either -sire is still fiddling with that, but in my opinion he's just made things worse- but they have a decent supply of venom. Don't let them bite prisoners. It's lethal, and messy. Unfortunately, sire has been unsuccessful in sunproofing them so far. I don't understand why, really, you'd have to ask sire yourself. But they will still be quite relevant to you, I think."
All right, Crawlers. They capture people, don't let them bite prisoners, and they're very mobile. Easy.
"Last is the Diver. I don't think they have crossed sire's mind as yet, unfortunately, as they've historically been of limited use, so currently we have none and he hasn't started a new batch, but they are a moderately large, many-legged creature that is fully aquatic. Like the Boulders, they will answer to you first and foremost, for much the same reason: a Diver can range far afield over many days, in its case by diving underwater and burying itself in mud. Assuming you have water to use, of course. Oh! Actually, if I recall correctly... yes, I think sire has left a dozen as pickets in the northern sea. How many years has it been since the last raid?..."
You've no idea what Virmire is alluding to.
"And that concludes-"
What? No, that's absurd. "What of yourself, Virmire?"
"Ah." He seems bothered by this somehow. "I am Virmire, of course, sire's aid in all things at home and afar when he can't be there himself." He seems to... scrutinize you. "Less so afar, now."
He abruptly starts walking. "Ah, but we have eaten so much time on this, and sire is soon to be here! And?... yes, he has a prisoner. Yes, this demands our attention."
B-but your dress! And your hunger!
Ugh. Fiiine.
You follow Virmire through the halls.
-------------------------------
Quietly, Virmire mutters to you. "You see the Crawlers, my lady?"
Yes, easily. They're... like centipedes to Caras' millipede. They're only about as tall as a tabletop, but they're much longer, and... you see, as they enter the courtyard (Or whatever this space just inside from the gate is called) some of them... separating, a wounded segment simply detaching, and then the healthy parts in front and behind scuttling sideways, pushing together, and apparently connecting. Workers rush in and begin dragging the abandoned segments away. One Crawler is moving awkwardly, its forward third raised up so that its legs can fasten as a cage around a struggling human, a man in blue/grey armor with heraldry of a lion on the half-plate. He isn't speaking, though his grunts sound to you like someone who has yelled themselves raw. The driver -er, Gatekeeper- takes a moment to step forward and run its antennae against the man's chest, which provokes an inarticulate cry of fury and disgust, and
clean
then the Gatekeeper backs away and you abruptly realize there was rather a large gap around that particular Crawler, a space even the Workers avoided. Was a large gap, as now Workers pour in and start chewing at the leather straps of the man's armor and carting away pieces as they fall -at one point the halfbreast falls off and slams atop a Worker with a crunch, but after a moment the halfbreast rises and with a drunken stagger weaves away anyway- with no concern at all.
"And there's the Boulders, now."
Hunched-over beetles with a spike sticking out from their face like a bizarre, long and pointed beard, walking -and occasionally rolling briefly, seemingly for extra speed- slowly behind the Crawlers. Notably, the outer shell of the Boulders is a dull grey, rather than the usual lightless black. Then Caras himself arrives, and with your new senses he is vast indeed.
"Come along then, inside inside. Faster, back there! Ah-" Caras' face swings toward you and Virmire. "-good! I had been led to believe Sabrina would be dormant for longer than this, and I am glad the Marquis was wrong." He pauses. "Again." Then he ripples, what is that about? "I have had a success of my own, as it happens! For once, a clean Shellman captured! Virmire, have you cleaned your tools recently?"
"Of course, sire."
"Excellent. We don't need this one figuring out some creative way to commit suicide before you're ready due to laxness. Or dying of infection. Due to laxness." You have the impression Virmire is vaguely insulted, while the 'Shellman' makes a despairing moan.
Well then.
[]Hooray! Caras baby you're here! And you look and sound wonderful. How can I help and lemme hug you come on then hugs.
[]Seriously, when is that priest getting here? Is he behind you, Caras?
[]Um. What, exactly, are you planning on doing with the Shellman? Caras? Virmire?
[]Can you watch? You want to be kept in the loop, here.
[]Can we eat, first? You're hungry, and this is a lot to take in and you could really use some quiet time instead of more stuff happening you don't fully understand. Surely this other stuff can wait.
[]You'd like to talk to the Shellman, yourself. Caras and Virmire have proven... a bit clueless, when it comes to humans.
[]Pester Caras about Divers. Can he make some? Please? They sound neat, and you want to be as useful as you can be.
[]Can Caras explain this 'Burners' thing, please? 'Burner worms', in particular? This is getting very unsettling.
[]You'd like to practice with the Boulders and Crawlers, if that's not a problem, please. A wargame would be ideal, but even just practicing getting them to listen, and seeing their limits yourself, would be good enough.
(Pick two. Plan voting, and please don't pick "can you watch" and "you'd like to talk to the Shellman" as they're not compatible)
