[X] Heal:
-[X] Cast Grand heal for until the squad is fully healed or magicka is depleted.
[X] Use another portion of Magicka regen Salve for 150 magicka.
[X] Summon a new phoenix for transport of immobilized X-Com members and super-mutant carcasses (for replenishing potion stocks later)
-[X] The new phoenix should return to you after it's finished it's tasks in case an emergency extraction is necessary.
[X] Continue to this 'Diamond city' with the remaining combat-ready X-Coms.
-[X] Use the Golden Saint to check for traps/minesweep along the way.
This plan accounts for nearly everything. Is there a limit to the amount of conjured beings Cynric can control at once?
It depends on several factors; the creatures' intelligence, personality, magical prowess or equivalent, orders given, etc. Additionally, Cynric's health, concentration, and available magicka play a role in establishing a solid magical binding and adding a new summon can disrupt pre established bindings. Eg: summoning Itachi or Nagato would see you failing the binding and losing control of all prior summons at best.
Summoning one hundred flame atronachs wasn't a problem since they are of limited intelligence and easily swayed with the promise of violence and sadism. An HP Phoenix on the other hand is not and the three that escaped your clutches will likely lead to bad things in the future. Golden Saints are willful and despise mortals.
I wonder if there will be a point at which most of our Daedra summons will start to recognize us. 'Oh no, not the Cynric shift again!'
[X] Heal:
-[X] Cast Grand heal for until the squad is fully healed or magicka is depleted.
[X] Use another portion of Magicka regen Salve for 150 magicka.
Being wounded to such a degree in unfamiliar territory isn't conducive to accomplishing your goals and since retreat would mean this had all been wasted effort, you have Lee pull the others closer and use up the last of your magicka on casting Grand heal. In moments you feel your wounds reverse until only a minor increase in sensitivity remains, something that your body can deal with on it's own. Unfortunately the others aren't as fortunate, Zhao's armor having been rendered inoperable and Rodriguez being wounded to the point that your magic only managed to stabilize his condition.
"Better than death." Lee comments, carefully tying a splint to Rodriguez's broken leg. "What do we do?"
"Pile the bodies beside Lieutenant Zhao and keep an eye out for enemies." You order, mentally commanding the Golden Saint to do the same.
Another dose of salve and a few minutes later, you ignore the growing crowd of crows and work toward removing Zhao from his armor. The helmet resists your efforts and in the end you hear a metalic snap as the locking mechanism fails. The man inside struggles to climb out, but doesn't appear wounded, so you focus on making sure nothing gets left behind for scavengers. Having gained experience in summoning their particular species, you are able to summon and rebind one of the escaped birds at a reduced cost of magicka.
Once Zhao manages to catch his breath and the firebird leaves with it's load, the man signals for the group to continue. With one man gone and another without his powered armor, your group moves much slower and more cautious. Zhao makes good use of his vest's enchantment and keeps to the rooftops, using his rifle scope to check for hostiles while your summon leads on the ground in case of traps. Two streets away from where the fight happened, you Saint rounds a corner only for someone to shout and the sound of gunfire to erupt.
Ordering her to retreat, you and Lee sprint to catch up, finding four men in strange leather pads and helmets with cages around their faces. Supporting them is a rusted vehicle with a turret on top, the flat space in the rear and the steel frame lending itself well toward the purpose of an elevated firing position. Judging by the size of the group and the well worn scratches from the metal wheels, you deem the group to be a patrol that happened to be pushing their contraption through the area and were alarmed by the daedra's appearance.
Raising a hand in greeting and waiting for one of the men to shut off the turret that's shooting at you, you call out, "Salutation! Could you gentlemen direct us toward Diamond City?"
"I might, but not 'fore you tell us what that thing is and why we should let it in the city." One of them says, stepping forward to point at the Golden Saint.
Sneering, the daedroth strides forward and announces, "The Aureal heed not the words of worms."
"Silence." You order aloud, stopping her advance and earning a withering glare as she is forced to obey. "She isn't human, but rest assured that she is well trained."
The guards share an uncertain glance before the apparent leader shrugs. "Eh, what the hell, we let Valentine stay." Pointing to one of the others he says, "Tino, go tell the guys at the gate we got some unusual guests." When 'Tino' runs off, the man turns back to you. "So, thats some fancy armor you got there."
"Thank you, I made it myself." You reply absently.
"No shit? Maybe you could talk to Mcdonough an' hook us up, eh?"
Humming as if you'd actually consider it, you shake your head. "Maybe some other time, we are here for supplies and to set up a trade route."
"Huh, well I hope you change your mind, fightin' soopah mutants in baseball pads isn't what I'd call fun, y'know?" The lead guard laughs. "Anyways, Tino's had enough of a lead so you fellas can head in now without getting shot at. Keep your... pet on a short leash though, yeah?"
Nodding to the man, you walk off in the direction that Tino ran, the Golden Saint's rage simmering to a boil as you force it to leave the men alive. It struggles to speak, but your previous command holds it's tongue and you don't bother to rescind it, which only enrages the daedroth further. Just before you enter the plaza where a large metal gate covers what you assume to be the city entrance, your recently summoned phoenix appears on your shoulder in a burst of fire. Ignoring the startled noises from a bald woman and her two headed cow, you approach the gate and Tino speaks into a small box on the wall. As soon as he steps back, the gate begins to rise.
The guards inside give you a cursory glance and more than a few appreciative whistles as you walk through the choke point and into the city proper... though the term 'city' might be a bad description. The interior walls are lined with thousands of seats like in a stadium, the buildings appear to be made of whatever refuse the people could cobble together, and the entire place contains only about forty structures independent of the walls... you don't even want to know why an entire section of the wall is bright green. Even the walls aren't too impressive, having obviously been built long ago and poorly maintained, likely managing to repel invaders due to the lack of capability on the attackers part more than any real defensive potential. The walls are visibly hollow in places for Namira's sake!
Walking out into the market square of the shanty town, you faintly hear the sound of Zhao landing behind you. "Remember, we are here for ammunition more than anything else. We only have about three thousand bottlecaps from those Gunners, so any tech you think the scientists might be interested in, ask the merchant to save for later."
Status: Light bruising.
Magicka: (50/650)
Choose:
[] Window shopping-
[] Stick with the others while they go to the gun store.
[] Check out 'Chem-I-Care', it sounds like it might be an alchemy shop.
[] Go to the shop with the tentacled machine out front.
[] Investigate the spiked ball that's floating around the place.
[] Find this Mcdonough character.
[] Find a tavern and ask about potential work and recent events.
[] Nap in your armor until it's time to go.
[] Write in.
------------------------------------
A/N: BTW, you guys have summoned almost half of the entire Phoenix species from the Harry Potter-verse.
Can anyone think of any negative consequences from losing control of a phoenix in Brockton Bay? I'm not sure how long we'll be there (assuming Cynric travels there for Louise), but my gut says we'll lose more than a few potions in the future. That detail about Cynric's vulnerable supplies seems like a hint.
Can anyone think of any negative consequences from losing control of a phoenix in Brockton Bay? I'm not sure how long we'll be there (assuming Cynric travels there for Louise), but my gut says we'll lose more than a few potions in the future. That detail about Cynric's vulnerable supplies seems like a hint.
Spite-porting the Siberian on top of Cynric? I 'unno, but I hope we can wrangle the rest of the ones that got away before fiery vengeance is visited upon us. That said, potion stocks are a bit low, so...
[X] Window shopping-
[X] Check out 'Chem-I-Care', it sounds like it might be an alchemy shop.
Harry entered the headmasters office, entirely unsure of why he had been called. He knew it was of the utmost urgency, because Dumbledore hardly ever summons him at this hour of night.
"Harry, my boy, have a seat."
Wanting to get straight to the heart of the matter, Harry swiftly sits in a chair far too familiar to him.
"What is it sir? did Voldemort attack!? are the Weasly's alright?"
"No, no nothing of the sort. But I'm afraid the news I bear is just as, if not more, grave."
With those words Dumbledore took off his glasses and gave Harry a look only a man who'd been in war is capable of mustering.
"There's something you need to see..."
Dumbledore walks over to an unobtrusive desk, hidden in the side of his office. It holds what appears to be an automated abacus, several puffing bread boxes, and globe with only a single glowing dot.
"I've run the numbers and done the calculations. I'm sorry to say, they all point to one fact. The phoenixes are abandoning our world, Harry." Dumbledore spoke in a weary tone.
Harry looked noticeably confused as to the significance of that statement. However, before he could ask, Dumbledore began to answer.
"As you know, phoenixes are forces of good within magical lore. Without their influence our world will become a much darker place. This clearly pertains to our ongoing fight against the forces of evil. The phoenixes must know, in their own simple way, that this is a fight the light will not win... That we will not win!"
"No!" Harry gasps, horrified at the implication of his own ensuing demise. All the portraits begin to argue animatedly over the best course of action. Dumbledore stares forlornly at his bird perch in resignation. Only when the argument on the wall heats to frantic proportions, one old headmaster throttling another, does something change. The sight of his mentor beginning to falter, fills Harry with determination.
"I will do it! I will take the ring to Mordor... though I do not know the way." The room falls silent at Harry's proclamation.
"You mean to say, you will retrieve our wayward pheonixes and avert impending doom?"
Harry nods, now determined to see this journey through.
- Excerpt from Harry Potter and the Mysterious Phoenix Snatcher
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A Lizard, A Monkey, And A Dog Find A Hole In The Ground
1,176 years old, Trobror was a good few decades over the average lifespan of his species and age was beginning to catch up with him. It had been a good run and he'd made a name for himself as a mercenary over the years before landing in this latest adventure. Humanity had just joined the Council after a Geth invasion, Aria was still paying him not to visit, he was just finishing an escort job when a purple flame had brought him to a place as strange as his most unusual dreams. Multi-dimensional travel, dozens of new species, human children as strong as a Krogan, blowing up planets... he might have begun to wonder if he'd caught the brain rot, but if he did there wouldn't be much point in thinking about it.
Rolling his shoulders as the little pyjack made his returned from scouting out the quarry, Trobror double checked his gear. Half an ammo block remained in his weapon and he wasn't going to let that crazy female touch it or his armor until he couldn't shoot any more. The hole in his armor was still there, the painfully hot plasma he'd been hit with had melted clean through to the other side and he knew any other race would have died. The fact that these humans could create their own energy weapons was part of the reason he stayed... the fact that he didn't know how to leave was another. It wasn't as if he could just hop a shuttle back to his own universe.
"I found the machines the old guy wanted, but the place smells wrong and makes me feel weird." Kiba's furry little varren yipped in agreement. "There's a dozen guys down there, but somethin's wrong with 'em." The kid said with visible discomfort, his words translated in real time thanks to omni-tool translation software... the only part of the damned thing that seemed to work as advertised.
When the red marked boy didn't explain, Trobror growled, "Well? Spit it out, what's the problem?"
The tiny mammal never got to answer, his words interrupted when the crimson and gold bird that accompanied them disappeared in a gout of flames. The whelp barely managed a confused tilt of his head when a missile came flying up out of the quarry and detonated against one of the large stones they had been using to avoid being skylined. The shockwave washed over Trobror's armor and caused his shields to overload, carrying enough force to knock him over with the bleedthrough. The little pyjack and his pup? Not so lucky.
Stomping through the pulped remains, the aged Krogan leapt into the fray, trusting his natural healing to carry him through until the shields recharged. Thanks to Cipritine Armory's built in safety features, a pre-heatsink Claymore shotgun would shut down and enter venting mode after four consecutive shots. After he had torn those features out and used the space for a custom recoil compensator, his weapon could pump out sixteen blasts of hypersonic metal chips before the heat would set off the gun's mass effect core. He only needed ten to put down the pitiful creatures inhabiting the quarry, their primitive armor doing nothing to protect them.
As it turned out, the whelp had been right about there being something wrong with the humans. Having been around the galaxy long before the skirmish between Humanity and the Tin Birds, Trobror tended not to notice the differences between the mammals other than size and coloration... he did notice that all of the humans in the quarry were skinless, entirely fur-less, and seemed to be decaying while alive. Normally he'd take the chance to add some meat to his diet, but not even the hungriest Krogan would be dumb enough to eat something that decayed.
"Trobror here, I got the toys Shen wanted. The runt is paste, someone else can tell his woman, I've seen what she can do with those hands... I'm staying far away from that." He said, activating his communication suite and filtering out all the local radio pollution to lock onto X-com's signal.
"Copy that, salvage team is on their way."
Leaning back against the rusted machinery to wait for the humans to arrive, he decided to take a nap.
-----------------------------------------------
Born from the panicked breeding frenzy in the early years of the genophage, a young Krogan would grow to learn of bloodshed and hatred. Hatred for the Turians for poisoning their race, the upstart birds unthinking in their devotion to orders. Hatred for the Salarians for giving them the means to beat the Krogans down, despite having been the ones to raise them up. Hatred for the Asari for pretending to have no part in it, thinking their long view of time uniquely suited for subtle scheming even when the very race they were slighting could live just as long if not longer. Hatred for the minor races for standing by and letting it happen, never thinking of the fact that they could be next. Some Krogan took it a step further with their own special hatred; a hate directed solely at the Krogans of before for making it necessary.
Iveyl Cruld was born to one such clan.
His first year of life was filled with lessons on crafting and using all manner of equipment. Axes made from the bones and sharpened headplates of broodmates killed by his own hands in the proving grounds, used to better his odds against the older children. Layered plates of Klixen chitin for armor when the others began to copy his methods. A rifle won through single combat against an older cousin's Krantt, limited to disabling wounds against, but challenging all the same. That first year before being allowed to form their own Krantt, their own close-knit pack of warriors, was the clan's way of determining who deserved to sully Tuchanka with another Krogan presence.
With the largest population of breeding females, it would be another two decades and the fall of thirty-seven clans to his own before the rest united their strengths to truly fight back. The war lasted a single month before clans Gormlaat's, Urdknot, Gatatog, Graken, Nakmor, Krattak, Umdar, Forsan, Hailot, and Talyth got together in a massive strike force to assault the breeding ground at one of the ancient cities. Clan Iveyl fell, never to see the feasts of Kruban for their desire to snuff out their own race. It was not an easy victory, with the attackers losing most of their forces in the fight and fleeing with the captured females... but the damage was done. When the sun rose on that bloodstained city and the few survivors discovered the lack of females to replenish the clan, they fell to squabbling and well practiced violence.
After it was all over and the last remnants of a once powerful clan dispersed, Cruld looked upon the ruin of all he had ever known. Trobror, ash and cinder were all that remained.
-----------------------------------------
A/N: Your mission to Diamond City isn't the only X-com operation going on.
I am tempted to start summoning Krogans instead of phoenixes. Then hand them a potion of Cure Disease, take a nap in the neighboring universe for a timeskip, come back, strip the world of whatever valuables there may be, and get out, closing the Oblivion Gate behind us.
Parting ways with the others and sending the daedra with the them to avoid garnering too much attention, you make your way past a butcher's stall and down a side alley where you can see a duo eating at a table. The butcher attempts to hawk her wares, but you steadfastly ignore her while noting how her eyes linger on the phoenix perched upon your shoulder. Thankfully your assumption that the tables belonged to a restaurant was correct and you aren't forced to embarrass yourself by turning back.
Plodding down the steps to the Dugout Inn and being met with a door too small for your armor, you reluctantly exit the suit and stuff the firebird inside as theft prevention. Pushing through the door and heading down the concrete passage, a thick accented voice echoes, "-ust a minute Yefim, I am in middle of story."
Emerging into the room at the end of the hall, you see a large bar counter with strange decorations and two signs that say "Dugout inn" and "Boston" on the wall behind the bar. Off to one side
The speaker continues, wiping down the bar as he regales a dark skinned man who looks to be a young adventurer of sorts. "So then I am crossing river right? Wearing nothing but a smile, when out comes the most dangerous of all sea monsters. A mirelurk!"
"A Mirelurk?" The psuedo-redguard says, copying the bartender's phlegm filled accent before scoffing, "Come on. That's like, two out of ten points of danger. Tops. Now if you wanna talk something really deadly..."
"Vadim!" Another accented man growls as he stomps over to the bartender.
The balding bartender, Vadim, drops his rag and looks up in surprise. "Oh, I forgot you were there, Yefim. What is it?" Causing Yefim to sigh and complain as he walks away to handle whatever the problem was on his own. Looking up at you as you approach the bar, Vadim grins. "See this bar? I killed a man for it." Without waiting for whatever shocked expression he expected, the man bursts into laughter. "No... no... I kid... I kid... He is dead, though."
"Man, that joke is gonna come back to bite you some day." The dark skinned man says with a shake of his head. When you turn to look toward the redguard and look at his oddly designed leather armor, he holds out his hand. "The names Hawthorne, what brings you here? Other than fine drink and less than fine company, that is."
"Cynric." You reply, shaking his hand. "I arrived in the area with a group of refugees and we are establishing a permanent presence to the South."
"For real? Well, it's always good to have another friendly settlement to stop in for the night. I'm an adventuring man myself. Exploring ruins, hunting monsters, and beloved by ladies the Commonwealth over."
Not bothering to hide your dubious look, you raise an eyebrow toward Vadim, who shrugs. "I don't know about ladies, but the man does swim in the pussy." Leaning in close, he whispers loudly, "Twenty five cats."
Blushing, Hawthorne stutters, "W-well anyways, since you're new around here, I suppose I should share a few tips." Over the next half hour, the two men explain a few things about the area.
To the East of Diamond City is another town buried in the ruins known as Goodneighbor. The town is run by a ghoul by the name of Hancock. Now, being an accomplished conjuror and necromancer, you are familiar with the concept of ghouls. Disease ridden carrion eaters, ghouls are a clever form of naturally occurring undead, but usually lacking in higher thought. The idea that there is one who is not only intelligent, but seems to have overcome the usual ghoul tendency to devour human flesh and decided to enter politics is quite odd. Other than the strangeness of their leadership, the people of Goodneighbor have a policy of 'live and let live', permitting any and all to do as they please so long as it doesn't harm others.
Outside of the crumbling city known as Boston are dozens of small farms dotting the region all the way to the base of the mountains to the West. These farms and minor settlements spring up and are beaten down on an almost yearly basis, the older farms owing their survival to the once defunct, but newly resurgent Minutemen.
The Minutemen, as it turns out, are what amounts to a conglomeration of levees from any and all groups that wish to benefit from Minutemen protection. If a settlement calls for aid it is the responsibility of their neighbors to come to their aid, bolstering the defenders until the small core group of the organization that are actual soldiers can arrive. Their main base of operations is known as 'The Castle', which turns out to be the fortress to the North of X-com's new base... The team sent there this morning has probably made contact by now. Leading the Minutemen is a man by the name of Nate Gardiner, who just so happens to have an article about him in a recent newspaper.
View from the Vault
Whenever I take a walk through Diamond City, there are so many things people tell me to be grateful for. Purified water, working lights, electricity, security. True, what we have would have been unthinkable even a few decades ago. But it's easy to forget that, even after all the progress we have made, we are still living in the shadow of the world that was. A world before the threat of radiation. Before the Super Mutant and the Feral Ghoul and the synth.
So, as fortune often has it, I crossed paths with him. Vault Dweller. A person who is experiencing the Commonwealth for the first time. What would his fresh set of eyes say about how far we've come? Is Diamond City the "Great, Green Jewel" we have always claimed it to be?
Before we begin to answer that question, we have to know who he is. Where he comes from. He began our interview joking about his time in the Vault. "It was just me and a thousand guinea pigs. They turned... carnivorous." Of course, this reporter knows that life behind the sealed gear doors of a Vault-Tec facility is actually supposed to be a bastion of the old world. A preservation of life before the bombs.
So what does Nate have to say about seeing Diamond City for the first time?
"Honestly, seeing everyone surviving out here? Rebuilding the world? It gives me hope."
Hope. When was the last time someone in our city talked about hope who wasn't some politician fishing for points in the next election, making empty promises at the Wall? But our outsider hasn't let the cynicism of our strange world get the better of Nate.
This is all the more remarkable because of the reason Nate came to the Commonwealth. You see, Nate has a son. Shaun. And even though they were in the relative safety of a Vault, someone broke in, and took Shaun from his parent, and that parent is now risking everything - wandering through this strange and unfriendly world of ours - in order to save Shaun from his kidnappers.
We all know the rumors and whispers that surround every missing person in Diamond City. The guilty looks we pass to mourning family members as we "thank the Wall that, this time, it wasn't us." You can end up dead in the Commonwealth for a million reasons. Why spend our time worrying about kidnappings?
Why, indeed.
It's easy for us to be cynical about the missing. We have spent so long knowing the Institute is out there, but knowing so little about them. They are not the only ones responsible for kidnappings, but the fact that they sometimes are, and the fact that we have been so powerless to stop them when they do, causes us to treat all victims of kidnappings as if they are a lost cause.
But the people left behind, those loved ones, friends, and neighbors who may never see the faces of those taken from them again, they do not have the luxury of being able to just look away. They have to carry that lost with them, even if everyone else tells them to move on and forget.
"You can only take it one day at a time." Nate said. "Just keep going. That's all anyone can do."
After skimming the paper, Hawthorne mentions a few places that are dangerous, but potentially profitable. Between Diamond City and Goodneighbor is a place known as The Commons, where an ancient beast named The Swan lives, a thirty foot tall behemoth of a super mutant. On the Northeastern Coast is a town known as Salem, where strange happenings have been occurring in a museum dedicated toward magic and it might be fruitful to investigate. To the Northwest lies the 'Nuka Cola Transit Center' which is the origin of a radio broadcast that started playing recently and since the local currency is bottle caps from Nuka Cola, the place is likely a good place to search for easy money.
Before leaving, you mark Hawthorne's map to indicate where the base is and he does the same for several locations on your own as well as telling you to avoid the Glowing Sea. The place is in a constant cloud of radiation and blocks off direct access between the Commonwealth and the region to the South. Considering the fact that radiation is a good thing, you would disregard his warning if it weren't for the sheer amount of vicious beasts purported to be lurking in the area and the bristling towers of 'New York' to the South of it which are filled with armies of super mutants. With your earlier fight against the beasts, you are not ignorant of the danger there.
Leaving the dimly lit tavern, you head back out into the sunlight and climb back into your armor. As you round the corner to the marketplace proper, a single voice cuts through the din of clamoring merchants to grab your attention.
"Chem-I-Care here, self proscribed chems! As recommended by me, myself, and I." A blonde man shouts as you approach the little alcove he'd set up shop in. Upon noticing your attention, the man pushes himself off of the wall he had been leaning against. "Hey man, looking for something to take the edge off?"
Meeting his gaze with the blank stare of your helmet, you reply, "Not as such. Being a practicing alchemist myself, I thought we might discuss the local market for potions and other medicinal concoctions."
"Right on, right on. Well, I carry all the regulars you need for a balanced lifestyle; psycho for when you're in a pinch, mentats for that creative kick, Buffout to maximize your fitness, rad meds... You can never go wrong with extra rad-x to keep out that pesky radiation, you know?"
Given what you know of the connection between radiation and magicka, it sounds like a useful poison against mages. Nodding in understanding toward the concept, if not the intended use, you ask, "And these... chems of yours... how much of a demand is there in this area compared to the availability of ingredients?"
"Heck, everyone buys from me around here." He says easily. "I've got a few runners that gather herbs and a few caravans are willing to bring in the occasional bulk shipment for a hit or two on the house. Honestly, the bottleneck is in the brewing. Too little time, too many customers, not enough equipment. Jacks up my prices a bit, sadly."
It sounds like the perfect problem to throw Cattleya and her horde of farmers at, the combination of raw labor and her alchemy-that's really-transmutation being uniquely suited toward this sort of situation. Of course, that should probably wait until things have settled to an extent... food comes before potion ingredients and personal needs come before potential business. Still, on the matter of business...
"That is unfortunate." You commiserate. "Perhaps adding some variety to your stock would help alleviate the problem?"
Giving you a genuine smile, not that the man seemed to have an ounce of guile in him to begin with, he replies, "Ol' Solomon's always willing to try something new. What do you have in mind?"
Status: Light bruising.
Magicka: (50/650)
Choose:
[] Take the squad to Good Neighbor.
[] Avoid the commons.
[] Fight the Swan along the way.
[] Prep write in.
[] Investigate the Salem Museum.
[] Return to base.
[] Write in.
Solution for Solomon:
[] Suggest a trade-
[] trade recipes.
[] offer to broker an agreement with X-com's budding alchemists.
[] Upon returning to base, obtain something for him to sell, at a price of course.
[] Brew some low quality potions.
[] Summon Khajiit, kill it, check for skooma or moonsugar. Repeat as necessary.
[] Write in.
---------------------
A/N: Newspaper Transcript taken from the wiki. I rolled the RNG for Nate's last name from the list of names Codsworth can say in game... he was 7 away from being Nate Fuckface and 15 from sharing the Commander's name.
[X] Upon returning to base, obtain something for him to sell, at a price of course.
-[X] Summon Khajiit, kill it, check for skooma or moonsugar. Repeat as necessary.
I mean... I can't not try to do this. It just wouldn't be Cynric otherwise.rofl:rofl:
[X] Write in.
[X] Continue drilling soldiers on potion recipes.
No matter how much happens in this story I still have a flimsy grasp of Cynric's work ethic. I'm worried he will abandon this whole setup due to annoyances and too many challenges. Any opportunity to create a productive work cycle and work environment for him seems invaluable. A stockpile of potions wouldn't hurt either.
Work ethic? Well... Wizards are known to be eccentric and somewhat scatterbrained... Still, there would need to be a legitimate reason behind betraying or leaving X-com after all the work put into helping them by this point, just like abandoning Louise stopped being an option a while ago.
Cynric started this quest with his only real goal being his continued survival, everything else was simply a means to that end... Or not end, as it were.
Oh, and that comment about breeding more Phoenix or whatever the plural form is? Won't work.
I like how our first thought when hearing about a new medicine, is how best to use it as a poison.
I don't think we could take on the swan, with its inherent Magicka resistance. We should probably rescue Louise before, in standard Luoise fashion, she burns down a city, maybe crashes a blimp or starts a plague?
[X] Return to base.
[X] Upon returning to base, obtain something for him to sell, at a price of course.
-[X] Summon Khajiit, kill it, check for skooma or moonsugar. Repeat as necessary.
Would it be as easy as summoning a Khajiit to pull Louise from Worm?
[x] Suggest a trade-
-[x] offer to broker an agreement with X-com's budding alchemists.
With how thoroughly the world seems to be irradiated, it might be perfect for magical ingredients. Hmmm... are supermutant bodyparts good for anything? That seems like something the world has in abundance.
I don't think we could take on the swan, with its inherent Magicka resistance. We should probably rescue Louise before, in standard Luoise fashion, she burns down a city, maybe crashes a blimp or starts a plague?
Would it be as easy as summoning a Khajiit to pull Louise from Worm?
It hasn't even been a day since you switched back to Cynric, how much trouble could she have caused. As for your question, yes. Cynric has already located her and simply left her to her own devices for the moment, as he knows from Vicky that the Worm-verse is relatively safe and is a convenient place to obtain the resources of a modern society once X-com is on their feet again.
That's two for return to base and two for Salem. Would those who voted for Salem prefer to return to base first or travel straight there via phoenix? Because if straight there, we need a tie breaker.
You spend several minutes hashing out an agreement with Solomon over what specific products you can provide that he would be interested in. He refuses the idea of healing potions, claiming that competing with Doctors Sun and Crocker would 'harsh his mellow'. With the general effects of the local alchemist brews mostly pertaining to hallucination inducing and performance enhancing properties, it is decided that Fortify type potions and weak poisons would sell nicely. Of course, you'll need to spend some time finding the proper ingredients and instructing X-com's scientists, but you feel confident enough to promise the preliminary batch sometime next week.
Even though you hadn't mentioned it to him, perhaps Solomon would be interested in skooma. After all, the substance does have a well documented history of profitability... though it would be impossible to grow the moonsugar required without returning to Tamriel. Contemplating the most efficient method of obtaining moon sugar and the skooma created with it, you decide that it might be best to enchant a staff to simply summon hapless khajiit into a deadly trap and give it to someone in X-com to 'farm' the materials. Drugs for the masses, money for you, and corpses for Vahlen to entertain herself with; everyone benefits.
With that taken care of, you approach the automaton serving noodles while you wait for the others to finish up at the weapon store. Turning to you, the machine asks in a slow and hollow voice, "What will you have?"
"What do you have?" You ask, humoring it even though you don't actually have any money.
As the mechanical chef begins to list off all manner of noodle dishes that it lacks the ingredients for, you notice a woman in a bright yellow jacket and fishnet staring at you with her mouth open. Noticing your attention, she asks, "You can understand him? Nobody understands him!"
"Oh?" You reply absently, failing to see her meaning.
"Well yeah, we all thought he was broken, all he ever says is 'nony mashka'."
Suddenly it makes sense. Thinking back on it, the automaton was speaking the same language as the ninja children, you just hadn't realized it. "Nani shimasu ka." You correct her, though she just ignores it while the robot misunderstands and repeats it's defunct menu. Still, you hadn't really thought about the fact that connecting those enchanted circlets to your language skills would let you learn the wearer's native tongue. It obviously took a long time and probably wasn't complete yet, but you didn't doubt that you would eventually be fluent in Hinata's language.
Since the others were taking their time with the salesman and the woman beside you looked as if she was just collecting her wits before assaulting you with a deluge of question you didn't want to answer, you decide it would be best if you just left.
"Lee, inform the lieutenant that I am returning to the base." You announce over the short range radio before ordering the bird on your shoulder to carry you away. Your arrival in a pillar of flames startles a few people, but it would appear that everyone is quickly becoming desensitized to such methods of travel.
Striding across the courtyard, you do not intend to stay for long. Whatever is in the town known as Salem could be useful and the longer you wait to retrieve it, the more likely it is to fall into the wrong hands. The wrong hands being ones that aren't yours of course. So it is that you ponder what and who to bring along on this trip to Salem as well as the tasks needed to be completed upon your return. Potions need brewed, supplies need inventoried, obligations remain, and perhaps there might even be time for some much needed research.
Status: Light bruising.
Magicka: (50/650)
Mission preparations:
[] Potion write in. The more chosen, the weaker the result.
[] Search for volunteers to bring along.
[] Perform some necromancy-
[] Reanimate all of the skeletons of the long dead residents of University Point.
[] Attempt to subvert Louise's control of Tsun, he's been inactive since she left anyway.
[] Summon a ghost.
[] Write in.
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A/N: Drug-running quest added: deliver product to Solomon within 6 days.
rofl: