And Should the Soil Not Take You (A Wight Quest)

Vote 19 Results
That's right, it just won't stay dead! In what's definitely a real nail-biter, I'm calling the vote now. In seriousness, sorry for the major unannounced hiatus, but I'm happy to finally be back and doing stuff with this again. Things are looking better now about time and writing motivation, but it's hard to confidently say if I'm back to consistency. We saw what happened last time when I thought summer would be better. Life got pretty messy and it's not totally straightened out yet. But the last few days I finally caught the writing bug again, and I'm coming back with update in hand. But this is a vote closing post so I should actually break down those votes:

[X] Sing. won the vote for what Ythona will do on patrol.

The two winners for what to do at home were [X] Try to bring your group closer together. and [X] Get closer to the master.

And [X] Plan: Sight and Sword carried the XP vote, assigning 440 XP to Combat Skill and 360 to Enhanced Perception. Now, the plan specified 300 and 245 XP respectively, picked to be just enough to level up. But I only just now noticed that leaves an unassigned 255 XP. Extending the vote at this point would be a bit silly, so I've just split the extra between the two in that rough proportion, hence the extra 140 XP to Combat Skill and 115 to Enhanced Perception.

Here's the updated character sheet after the vote and omakes:

Physical Power [2] (0/800 XP)
You are much stronger and faster than you look. Your raw physical prowess isn't beyond human limits, but it is probably more than you could have reached in life. You wonder if eating alright has to do with it; you are stronger than you were, now that you've been eating better. Or maybe that's only what passes for a superstition among the undead, and your growth for another reason.

Enhanced Perception [2] (165/800 XP)
You have exceptionally keen eyes and ears. It's difficult to exactly tell, but you think you've been noticing things you before might have missed. Your vision in low-light is beyond most any human, but typical of a wight. Your extra sense, whatever you should call it, is sharper. It's grown more usual, the awareness of the wights and ghouls around you a familiar background which is only sometimes brought into sharper relief. You can't shut out your perception of others' power even when you want to. But with focus you can better pick up on the location and nature of whatever it is you're sensing.

Healing [3*] (0/1600 XP)
*Power: Temporary Healing
You have a power that is, as far as you know, unique: most wounds you suffer close almost instantly, scabbed over by something disconcertingly like bark; and even lost limbs can be suddenly replaced with something spindly, brittle, and sharp; almost wooden, like your horn. Flesh and everything else will regrow to replace it, but while that is impossibly fast for a human, it is still a gradual process, depending on the nature of your wound and your power. Besides that, your healing is fairly exceptionally fast. You can speed up your proper healing with active effort, but the cost is power, and that means hunger.

Domination [2] (0/800 XP)
Your control of ghouls may not be as typical as you thought. You've found the control surprisingly easy when you've really called on it, but haven't tested your limits. Your unconscious pull on ghouls is easily overshadowed by another wight, even though it takes you effort to suppress it yourself. Your active control has only rarely failed you, and isn't so easily wrested away. You can give fairly sophisticated commands, at least if they're one step.

Magic [X] (—)
Your power comes to you naturally in several ways. You cannot channel it to other ends, and have no idea where to start.



Combat Skill [2] (200/800 XP)
You don't have much combat experience per se. Still, hunting has given you experience with weapons (such as they were) and applying more finesse than sheer brute force. You have good hand-eye coordination. As well, taking as much punishment as you have has been its own teacher. You can better press on after taking a hit, and you think you have a good grasp on your limits.

Cooking [3] (0/1600 XP)
You are a very good cook. You know a fair number of simple recipes from life, though ones using only readily-found ingredients are few, and your equipment is quite lacking; still, you know enough to make your meat rations into something properly palatable, with a little time and effort. You distantly remember that most dinners were left to you; not alone, of course, but you had taken over the main responsibility from your mother, you think. It was beyond difficult to practice much real cooking out in the wet of the bog, but still, it seems a lifetime's practice isn't lost so easily; even if yours was a short lifetime.

I really appreciate the patience immensely. I love writing this story, and seeing people engage with it just makes my day. Every bit of commentary and speculation just really makes my day. And oh my gosh the omakes. Sorry I haven't responded to some of them (including the first prose stories!), I don't have a good excuse; I really psyched myself out by tying the response to the piece itself to the Official XP Reward Assignment post because judging how worthy a piece of art is hard to feel fair about doing, actually. More on that in a second, though.

(And yeah, in an act of minor time travel, the numbers in that spoiler up there already include the ones awarded down there. It would just be silly, otherwise.)
Scheduled vote count started by DoobleDeeDooble on Apr 20, 2024 at 11:01 PM, finished with 26 posts and 19 votes.
 
Omake Response #11
I've left a severe backlog of things not commented on, sorry about that!

here were my thoughts for what this newly introduced character might look like from 10. What Thirsts Remembrance May Slake !!

im soooooo normal about them btw

its been a while- i almost forgot to post my sketch this time!


any points towards perception plsthx

Where do I start? These are all so good. Every time you post a new picture, it makes my day. I love the way you rendered that scene into a short comic. Seeing how readers interpret the scenes is really wonderful, and it's just so evocative. Also Ythona and Bell in the office makes me laugh so much. You can just tell Ythona is a new hire.

And I'm glad you were able to get everything back up when Discord went and broke image hosting. (Not that I don't understand that move, but anything that creates dead links en masse is a real shame. Glad these weren't casualties.)

Preparations

Fleshrender decided to take some of your food again. Take what was yours. Ruin what was yours, out of petty boredom. And again, you were filled with anger. Ready to snap at him. And you pulled it back. You didn't even bother pointing out his own hypocrisy. Or that he wasn't allowed to do so.

Snapping at him? That wouldn't be in any way wise. Nor informing the master, something that would to him be an 'admittance' of weakness and having someone fight your own battles for you. At least not yet. And judging by your interactions with him, a decisive victory at your current level of strength would only make things worse, if you showed mercy afterwards. If you did what was right, rather than what was wight. Or at least, an action different from what he felt a non-'natural' wight would do.

And honestly? Even if it made you 'soft', you didn't particularly care. Maybe you should reach for further strength, to be strong enough to defend yourself, and others despite being soft, rather than throwing away what made you Ythona.

The fragments of your life that you are able to remember. What you pieced back together. Not the same, probably never the same. But still, a good person regardless? Something you hoped for. To show kindness, so you won't have to be alone.

Luckily you did have some easy ways to sneak in time, where you were guaranteed to not have to be near him. Where you could edge out practice. He didn't truly care about what you did on patrols, after all. Buy little bits of time, improve your combat skills. Bit by bit. But not too much, you didn't want to risk his boredom. Even if it appeared that he was slightly more wary of throwing his weight around in a tantrum. It would only be a matter of time before he 'forgot' any telling down he got. Him trying to cover up his own failures, perceived or otherwise, no matter how much it would make things worse? Proof of that lesson will end up not actually sticking.

Which only made it more imperative for you to find an edge. Some way to close the gap. Strength alone might well be unable to help.

And going for strengthening your own unique healing? You weren't too sure you could easily improve it. Not immediately so. And you weren't quite sure how to do so at the moment. At least, not without using it. And that would mean hunger. Something you could ill afford, even if Fleshrender was kept from arbitrarily taking a part of or outright denying your rations. And hunting for your own didn't seem to be likely to be helpful. Perhaps in a pinch. You didn't really want to eat it raw, outside of an emergency, and it would take too long to cook. And it would be a bit difficult to sneak it in with you. If you were stronger, you might have been able to just outright not care. Possibly because Fleshrender wasn't your problem at all. But you weren't. Not enough.

Working on improving your senses might make the pressure Fleshrender used worse. If only because you could see it that much better. That or you'd be able to see through it better, and not have it overwhelm you. It was an uncertain gamble as of yet.

Likewise improving your own control of ghouls? There's potential there if you can hold it longer. But would it be enough?

No, perhaps a more immediate impact would be to improve your own ability to use your own strength. Especially as you've gotten stronger. If only to find a way to not be grabbed by the throat. Or a way to avoid having your horn torn out. That… would be a good idea too. Though managing that won't be easy, at least when out on patrol. It's not like ghouls could provide much help in training there.

The first prose omake this Quest has gotten, and I really like it! Ythona is very much in her own head a lot, and it's cool to see someone else's take on that sort of introspection. Just thinking about how to solve a problem, telling herself a little narrative about how she should do it. Fleshrender... just being Fleshrender is definitely a major problem, and not one that looks easy to crack. Her line of thinking here was also a bit prophetic, given that Combat Skill did end up getting leveled in the ensuing vote. It seems a lot of people agreed with that line of reasoning, though they also cast the dice on the gamble with perception. We'll see how that goes. Also, the premise is very plausible; things have been a rather compressed so far, in terms of time, but finding small moments to practice skills makes a lot of sense.

A Mighty Ghoul Wight Only in his Own Head

The 'gossip' network among the wights, or at least the ones that cared about that sort of thing, was abuzz. The news that Fleshrender managed to mess up what little responsibility he was given spread rapidly. Why else would he be called in? It's not like he was expected to report in on his own initiative. He was, after all, a wight who didn't seem to understand the difference between a ghoul and a wight. A fact that annoyed everyone, with the implications it had.

That was probably one of the reasons why he was pushed to his current role. Which he managed to mess up. Somehow. Despite what was thought to be a simple job. And several other wights to carry any slack.

But no, even basic competence seemed to be beyond Fleshrender. Or so the gossip went. Because really, taking out the entire guard force for the entrance? For some dubious reason? It looked very much like treason. Opening up a weakness in the defenses. Or just defection. The fact he returned did not matter. It was still a mistake made. The only question is, was it a big enough one that he could not squeeze himself out of?

That, and just how miserable would he be afterwards, if he did? Fleshrender really did not make any allies. And that might well have doomed him.

Which did leave the question as to what would happen with those wights that answered to Fleshrender. None of them were of much note at the moment, at least confirmed to be. Perhaps without Fleshrender's influence there might be something there? Still, the general consensus among the wights paying attention was to wait and see for now. They would hold there, until something interesting happened. It's not like many expected there to be any hidden gems there. No one that would 'outshine' Fleshrender. His ego probably couldn't stand it.

Or possibly 'wouldn't', depending on how badly he was punished for how badly he messed up. Worse still if he ended up forcing someone higher up to babysit him, just so he doesn't screw up again. There was a good reason no one liked spending much time with him.

Just constant acting out of his base behaviors. Useless for any long term goals. Short sighted tantrums, that even being punished didn't seem to stick. Almost immediately going back to his bad behaviors, in a bad mood. Did he really think that he wasn't being watched? That the master was ignorant of what he was doing? Fleshrender wasn't that clever, to pull that off. He wasn't that sneaky. Pure, blunt force.

Did he really think being shoved off to the outskirts was a 'reward'? That he could just push what little authority he had, where few saw?

Fear might have been a good motivator, but there's only so far you can take it. When there's more interesting, valuable wights around. Ones that rumor has it, Fleshrender was actively antagonizing.

Though the same rumors couldn't agree on who it was, or what made them more interesting. Not just yet. But given Fleshrender's behavior? It was not exactly a surprise that he would actually do something like that.

Since his section was more on the outskirts, not many of the wights really knew enough to figure out all the details. The best they got was something about a natural wight. Which gave little on skills, or personality. And well, finding out more, intentionally? No one wanted to be near Fleshrender, to hear his tantrums. Not because he was actually 'strong', but more the annoying gnat. A shame, really. But perhaps not one that would last too much longer.

At least some of the wights were hoping that he only took himself down, so they could find any gems he squandered. Before they were shattered.

The concept behind this one is really interesting! Ythona's seen barely anything of the other wights in her master's army, so framing something from their perspective is fun. And it's also really fun how it casts our resident big fish in the pond as just... well, an embarrassing failure who has burned every other bridge available with his attitude. It's definitely something to wonder about, what the other wights think of him. And, indeed, what they think of the wights underneath him, if they think much anything at all. The prospect of Ythona being noticed by someone else is also an interesting thing to ponder; there are a lot of things that could lead to, good or bad. And who knows, maybe Ythona and the others are all being watched, silently scouted?

So yeah, this touches on a lot of good points to think about, and I like the answers you take to them. I also really like playing on the rhetorical device of 'hidden gems' in the last two sentences; I've always been a sucker for extending a metaphor. Also it is real cathartic to read Fleshrender get disparaged and dismissed, I have to admit. Also, to respond to the A/N, it feels complete to me, at least. But I have definitely been there with feeling something is missing but not being able to put a finger on what that actually is.

Directionless

You wave Pepin goodbye. It was a nice talk. Tricks to navigate, directions to actually find places you were looking for. It was a bit embarrassing to constantly get lost. Especially as you were already getting caught by what you thought were 'wrong' turns being the actual path. And making corrections to your own mental map should help in figuring out where you were going wrong. Hopefully.

Still, first you should get a grasp of how to get back to your room from here. So you follow the instructions. Only to find yourself outside of some storage room. Or at least, that's what it seems like, considering that it's empty right now, it is a bit hard to tell. Though it is clear that few, if any, have been here recently. Which doesn't make sense. This isn't that far off the path, right?

The bad part is you have no idea where this is. You haven't seen this room before. No directions that you can follow to get back to where you want to be. Which leaves you resorting your tried and true tactic of 'wander around until you recognize where you are'. It'll work. Eventually.

The next interesting point you came across was that cistern of water again. Well, it's a familiar point. Unless it's an identical one, somewhere else down here. Considering you didn't expect the first one to exist before you found it, it's possible there actually is at least one more. Which really won't help you navigate around. Best to assume that actually is the one you already know about for now. You try to remember the path you took the first time when you left here. Which should be that way, followed by that turn…

Some time later, you find yourself at the exit of your master's lair. Which doesn't quite make sense. Shouldn't it have been elsewhere? It must really have been a different cistern. That, or you were misremembering the route you took.

Okay. This is fine. Now you're somewhere that you know it is. You can't mess it up now. Well, it would help getting to where you were talking to Pepin solidified in your mind. Which should be this way…

…only to find that the room was on the wrong wall, from where you thought it was. It should have been on your left, not your right. In fact, from what you recall, it should have been impossible for it to be on your right. At least, on the approach to it.

After all, it's supposed to be a dead end passage over there. And it'll bug you forever if you don't check it right now. If only because otherwise you'd worry about getting lost. And you know for certain that this is in fact the room you thought it was. So you turn around and check.

Several minutes later, and to your growing confusion, you figure out that there's no path out this way. Not any that you can tell at least. No visible path. Even checking the walls revealed them to be solid. So you couldn't have walked this way. And yet you did.

What? How? It's like you were teleported or something. But you hadn't heard of anything like that being setup. And you would think something like that would have been mentioned. Just what was going on?

This is, appropriately enough, quite disorienting to read. Admittedly the fact that, while I'm not quite Ythona level, I've never been the best with directions. I have benefitted greatly from GPS navigation, and also not living in a warren of winding stone tunnels that crisscross haphazardly.

As for the omake XP, since you both already mentioned where you would put them, I've gone and given +40 to Enhanced Perception and +60 to Combat Skill. Now, onto the pachyderm, which is that I am intensely strangely averse to the whole assessing how much reward to give for an omake, because it's hard to feel fair doing that. Also it's hard to know just how to judge the balancing.

Going forward, the first omake per user during any arc will get +50 XP to place as they like. And the omake response threadmarks will come at the end of each arc. That way I can just respond to anything people draw or write or otherwise make and share right away, like a normal person. This number may be subject to change as it comes to balance

(Silly technical details that don't really matter: Things posted between the last post of one arc and the first post of the next will count towards the ended Arc if you didn't get omake XP during that arc, or count to the next arc if you did. Basically, counting whichever way helps the poster re: potential earnings. Also, if a skill is leveled up in the middle of an arc by omakes, I'll mark that but not actually increase the skill level until the next Arc, to better be able to write a reason for it adjusting. The XP expenditure won't be capped, it'll just end up looking like [2] 875/800 or such and go to [3] 75/1600 at the end-of-arc.)
 
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Arc 4, Sermon: 19. A Taint Mars the Land, Festering and Septic
Arc 4, Sermon

19. A Taint Mars The Land, Festering and Septic

It feels like forever that you've spent debating it in your mind, but you finally come to a decision. You can't neglect yourself the way you have been doing. Not personally, and not spiritually. You owe it to yourself. You have to recall the sanctuary songs. When have you ever needed them more? Even your faith that the last day will come was wavering. How had you ever let yourself forget them? Were they just too painful to sing when at first you wandered? Many of them touch on ghouls, after all. But they're songs to soothe those still living... And they can soothe you, too. Even if the way death took you away from your loved ones was different, it's a wound you certainly need balm for. And the more you can turn your focus ahead to the last day, the better everything seems.

But your emotional needs don't only involve you. You need to bring the others closer together. You're all suffering underneath Fleshrender, and you need to rely on each other to help withstand that. And... A dark thought crosses your mind, but you shake it aside. It isn't about cohesion or swaying them to your side if things finally break, if your secret gets out—or if Pepin's does. It's not strategy, it's simpler than that. You all live together. You should be friends, or at least good neighbors. You should all get along. More than that, what do any of you really have except each other? It's something to be held to tightly and cherished.

But that thought isn't final, not the way it should be. Strategy. Strategy. It's an absurd word that just keeps nagging at your mind. You shouldn't have to think about strategy, you aren't a soldier. You can't be. And there lays that awful problem. You aren't going to flee and abandon your home here, and that means you have to do... something about the master's plans. You can't think of what you possibly could do to stop him, and changing his mind seems unlikely. But you have to. Even if... You swallow. For your family. Whatever suffering it takes, whatever ruin it might bring you, you cannot let this monster wreak whatever havoc he's planning. You will stop him. But the only way you can possibly learn how to is at his side. So you'll be there. But... You'll spare yourself the thought of thinking how to justify next approaching him for now.

You finish setting your things back down in your room. You are so tired. The food in your stomach has quelled the hunger enough to focus on that fatigue. Not physical—well, that too—but emotional. Today was... too much. And yesterday. It all feels like just one day. You just need to lay back down. On your bed. Even if it is only two curtains with the tatters of another for a pillow, it is a bed. Here you can catch up on more sleep. Even if you're sleeping away most of a day at this point... It's what you need. That much is clear.



The taste is lingering on your tongue. It's still so bitter. Charred meat. If you didn't know better you wouldn't have known it was venison. It's just so...

You hear a sigh, and look up with worry plainly written on your face. A large hand claps down your shoulder. "What are you pouting for?"

You falter, and then avert your eyes. You're already starting to tear up. Stupid. Why is he even bothering to ask? "I... I burnt it!" Then you cringe. Not so loud. You ball your hands into fists and squeeze them tight. "I'm sorry I ruined supper..."

"Hey, hey, don't worry. We all still ate, didn't we?" He squeezes your shoulder, and you look up to see him smiling softly. "Only the end matters. You'll do better next time, and the time after that, I'm sure. It was a big help, letting ma lay the twins down early." Then he bends down to look you in the eyes with a wry grin. "Besides, you should see how badly I'd've mangled it. Never one with a delicate touch, me."

You gulp, and then nod your head. Everyone did still eat. Maybe it's not such a big deal...

"I woulda done it fine. Said you shoulda let me." You turn your head, and your sister is behind you. Her face is stern, but she can't hide the smirk. For a second anger flashes up, but despite yourself, you just giggle a little. That makes her crack into a full teasing grin.

Your dad chuckles. "That's better, there's that smile. Ythona, you do me proud, you know? You're such a hard worker. You too Wenna, I know you're eager to do everything you can. And don't think I'm leaving you out, Anthun, I see you there." He smiles and you turn around. You hadn't noticed him earlier, practically hiding behind Wenna, one hand grabbing her dress. He starts laughing like crazy when your dad lifts him up, but put his hands over his mouth. "You're a real good kid too, son. Trying to keep quiet... C'mon, let's all head outside and let those three sleep."

He makes for the door, and then you glance to Wenna. There's a glint in her eyes, and the second she's out the door she takes off. You dart after her, determined to catch the little scamp.

Your troubles were so far from your mind, you had forgotten all about that dinner by the time you had caught up. Wenna had ran quite a ways before then, and you still only caught her then because she'd stopped. You'd thought it was because she had to catch her breath, but she wasn't all giggles like usual. It took you too long to see what she was looking out. But you look at it right away now. It wasn't fully dark yet, and it was lingering under the shadow of a tree. You had thought it was a person, at first. You forget what you noticed that gave away it wasn't. It was your first time seeing a ghoul, after all.

This all already happened. It isn't happening. It doesn't matter.

But you grab Wenna's hand and squeeze it tight anyways. Even though there's no danger. You already know what's going to happen in the end. You both saw it, and then you ran back and warned everyone. Nobody got hurt. It was fine. But your heart is hammering so hard and you can't breathe. Your skin is burning. You can't even feel her hand in yours anymore. You squeeze harder and all it gets you is claws dug into your palm.

You cower beneath the tree and watch the two girls run off. Back home. Back to their lives.

All you can do is watch them flee.

All you can do is look back on your own life. When was this? The twins had only just been born... And they were... Eight years ago? No. More. Count the three years dead.

You snarl. This isn't fair. If the memories aren't gone why can't you remember them? The anger flares, but flows into simple need. How did you unearth this? How can you do it again? Losing your life was bad enough, but why can't you even remember it? Why rob it from you twice over?

You slump down on your knees. Everything is dark. It's just that tree looming over you. You're dreaming, why do things have to torture you now?

You're dreaming. Are you even going to remember it? Even now, trying to picture your father's face is blurry. And you just...

Has this happened before?

How many times?

You shut your eyes tight and squeeze your fists and hold onto Wenna with everything you have.



You wake up in a ball. You can't remember if you went to sleep like that. You can't...

You nearly spring out from under the blanket. It's like your mind is alight, and you scramble and scrabble to find something to write what you've remembered down. No paper, of course, no ink anyways but you—

A stupid grin spreads over your face. Of course, you don't need to write it to start. "Wenna. My sister's name was... is Wenna. I remember now, I—" Your voice gives out to a well of sudden tears. You can't tell if you're overjoyed or heartbroken. You have her name, a glimpse of her face, but you still can barely remember her. And she was just your oldest sibling, you had five. But you can remember that you had them. When you were out in the bog...

You wet a fingertip with the tears and scrape it in some of the soot clinging to the bottom of your cookware. It's crude and faint, but you manage to leave something readable on a scrap of old fabric. Wenna. And when you write another name bubbles up, Anthun. You rack your brain, but you don't recall anything more. Still. Still. You have something more than just the memory of your family, terrified and hiding, just before your first life came to an end. Even if it's only names, it's...

It hurts. There's an ache in you, as if they were torn away from you all over again. The wound has ripped open. But you smile. It's still love coming back to you, however barbed. You gave your life to save them. Of course it hurts. You breathe in and shakily let it out, past clenched teeth. When calm enough, you speak. "My name is Ythona. I am... Of course I'm a person." You find your brush, and falling into familiar routine helps you maintain your fragile calm. Even the little sharp pains of picking at snags and tangles help, bringing catharsis, somehow.

When your hair is as well-brushed as it can be, you stop. You try to clear your mind, focusing on your breathing. You are as well-rested as you've ever been, and all the physical aches are gone. If it weren't for that hunger even now clawing at your stomach, you might have been able to think of yourself as healthy. The lingering need is stronger than you had thought, now that your attention has been dragged to it. Is it that bad? Are you just that deadened to hunger? Are—You shake your head. Not where your thoughts should be. Back onto your breathing.

You can't really clear your mind. Even besides the hunger, the joy and sorrow from your dream are still there, so many worries float to your thoughts, and you can't help thinking about how you can't help thinking. But you're holding yourself together. You can focus more. And you turn that on trying to remember. There were songs for loss, for being apart, for... You mouth words silently, until finally one catches. Parting. That was the word your favorite used. You can drag up a faint melody, a cadence you had kept to even in tears. The start is on the tip of your tongue, just... You hum the simple rising and falling until finally you dredge out words, in your quiet voice. "Though our parting's brought such sorrow..." The next line doesn't come, and you sigh. If only you still had your book.

You try to recall if this song was in couplets. Because then... Tomorrow? That sounded right, but it had to be more general. You sing the first line a few times more, and it finally comes back. You raise your voice, a little less quiet, less shaky. "Though our parting's brought such sorrow, we'll meet again come some morrow." Your voice quavers, but the next words follow. "For every bitter tear we shed, sweet smiles we'll share in its stead, when we all come together again. Oh, 'til then, 'til then. Our voices will ring out together, dancing hand-in-hand amidst the heather. I'll share those words that burden my heart, and all these pains they shall depart, the next that we meet. 'Til then, 'til then, I'll sing bittersweet. For I know no absence is ever truly final, that not even the long rest has such pull to forever stay us from another. None can that great fen smother, can the sturdiest earth cover, can the strongest winds buffer, can the roughest waves scupper, not when the last day comes a-dawning! Then none of us shall be wanting! 'Til then, 'til then, 'til you rejoin our midst! Oh, 'til then, 'til then... Know that you're missed."

You wish your family could know you were here, now, missing them. If only... You swallow. You will tell them yourself. Like you just sang. You will meet them again. If not in this second life, then during the last day. Until then... You have your new home here. And you have your role to play.

You step out past your curtain. You're patrolling today, as Fleshrender's cruel little joke. You may as well go out now to take up that duty. It's early, you think, but you aren't going to wait for Fleshrender to come get you. He's expecting some spectacle, to watch you struggle and fail, surely. Well, you'll just disappoint him. You make your way through the halls towards the exit. You don't travel far before you see a ghoul, of course. Unremarkable, but it gives you pause. It's just standing there, still, idly waiting in the middle of the tunnel. It feels eerie, for a reason you can't place. It's not the usual discomfort you feel, gazing upon those poor dead. But it doesn't last, as the ghoul stirs and approaches you on instinct. You take a deep breath, and try not to pay any more mind to it. You'll be spending too much time with ghouls today anyways.

You don't have to go far before they're nearly crowding the halls. They part for you, and trail behind a short ways in your wake before falling out of your influence. You manage not to get turned around—you think. You're close to what should be the end when something strikes you. Fleshrender is just ahead, you can feel him. It's not oppressive, not him flexing his power, you can just notice it. Well, you're certainly headed in the right direction, then.

And indeed, you find him close to the exit, staring at the tunnel out. At least two dozen ghouls are spaced around him, irregularly, stock still and fixing that same stare out towards the only way in. There usually aren't so many. Is he taking his duty seriously? He doesn't notice you immediately, and you stay quiet until he finally glances back. A flash of what you think might have been honest surprise plays over his face, and then it settles into that all-too-familiar grin. "You actually got up? And you're reporting in early? I'm actually impressed." You don't like the way his smile widens at that. "So impressed I'll let you limp off and finish licking your wounds. If you can beg someone else to patrol for you, anyways. It's at least a little fun watching her struggle to save her worthless playmates."

He finally shut up. You want to spare him as little thought as possible. "Which ghouls am I taking with me?"

He narrows his eyes, and then cants his head. "Yes, yes, you're playing tough. To show me I can't push you around that easy." He fully turns, and narrows his eyes. "But I can, and I know it. It's very amusing, don't get me wrong. But not funny enough to bother going into sunlight to see how far you go before you keel over, so..."

"Which ghouls?" The less you speak to him, the better. There's no right way to respond to his petty provocations. He wants to hurt you, and you can't stop him. With luck he'll keep laughing about the wounds he thinks you still have. ...So you need to press to end this, then, rather than let him drag it on until he realizes. "Do I just take any four?"

He actually looks taken aback. "Huh? Did choking you leave you stupid? You'll... Oh." His face spreads into a grin that's unnervingly wide, baring the mottled yellows and browns of practically all his too-sharp teeth. Then he guffaws, his voice getting shrill enough to hurt your ears. "Oh, I hurt you that bad? You're crawling off to die? Hah! Hahah!" He bursts into manic cackling, almost unrecognizable as laughter. His eyes are all but shining with feral glee. You can't help but feel deathly threatened just being this close to him, and it isn't even the feel of his power. But it's worse when his outburst tapers off, and he looks into your eyes with lucidity. If Fleshrender is ever lucid. "If I already went and killed you, I should just tear you apart here and now." His voice is icy, and you can't help shudder. "To get the satisfaction, so I can see you die. But it's funny. It's just too funny! When Bell realizes she lost another one out in that bog? Hah! And she'll know it was me. Again. Oh, she'll finally snap. Then I can gut her! Yeah, much more fun if I let you wander off to find a hole for yourself. Hahah!"

You're staring at him in utter horror. What is he saying? What did he do? It's hard to think straight. You feel a chill, ice in your veins, except your blood is boiling. You are outraged and terrified and sick with worry about just what he'd done. The callous evil, the casual way he spoke of murdering you, the threat to Bell, the gloating over hurting someone close to Bell and just leaving them to die. You're shaking.

He doesn't even notice. "Yeah, yeah, take any four you like! Won't be my fault when they don't come back, so what's it matter?"

It's almost all you can do just to stare at this monster. But it can't be all you do. You feel a burning, pressing need to do something. But what can you do? You can't stop him. You couldn't possibly win a fight. You could demand answers, but you don't want to hear him gloat. You could turn and run, go to Bell, but—But you don't need to. She knows you're alright. You'll come back. She won't give him the excuse he wants. There is only one thing you can do.

You reach out towards the ghouls and shudder under the feeling of knives pressing into you, but it's easy enough to take the four ghouls nearest the exit. You march off, they follow, and Fleshrender howls with his awful laughter.

There isn't a cloud in the sky, and the early morning sunlight burns your skin, but it's better than staying with him. You stomp forward, heavy footfalls sinking through the peat and thoroughly soaking your feet. Then one spot gives away, and your leg sink in up to your knees. You sigh, and then snarl, and thrust your arms into the water. Then you wet your face, before turning back to clamber onto stabler spongy ground. At least it dulls the sting of the sun, just a little. You step more lightly as you head along your route, steering the ghouls carefully behind you.

You try to turn your thoughts away from everything that just happened, but it's difficult. You can't help but imagine another wight abandoned in this awful, near-endless expanse. Left to rot, to be consumed by the desperate hunger and loneliness. If they survived at all... You shake your head. You don't know what happened. Maybe whoever Fleshrender meant had run away by choice, deserting. You could more than understand that. If so, they could have followed the patrol route out of the bog. But... Where could a wight go, even then? It couldn't be simple as heading back to a human village. Could it?

Your mind turns to that young man you ran into. He was frightened by you, terrified, and of course he was but... You had been furious. You remember feeling like you were only barely controlling yourself, like you would lash out and hurt the poor boy. And yes, you were starving, you were in pain, you had four ghouls in tow... But you're leading four along now, and their hunger gnawing at you isn't so difficult to ignore. Have you changed that much? That was... That was only three days ago. It's hard to believe. How has so much happened, so suddenly? You... You didn't talk to anyone only five days ago, except when you had to. For weeks. You were just... Were you just stewing in your own misery, scurrying and cringing? For all that time? The others aren't like that, not at all. And now you... What happened?

You had decided to try and talk to the others more, you remember that. It wasn't... It wasn't out of nowhere. Your vision starts to blur, splitting into a dizzy quivering two. You remember now. What it was. You had three years to come to terms with what you were. And you still thought of the others as monsters at first.

Of course it isn't so easy as walking back to humanity. How could it be? Maybe it's not impossible, but, but...

You're jarred out of your thoughts by the sound of a howl. Loud, quavering and pained, and right behind you. You turn your head to see the ghouls huddled together, one with head still upturned. You can feel the leash is still tethering them to you. You will them to spread out, and they do. Was that... Were you getting that upset? Did it...

You quickly turn your head and set off again, faster this time. You cannot break down, not out here. You try to focus, but you can't clear the cluttered thoughts from your mind. You stifle a groan, and then force yourself to start singing. Just notes, not the words, but you carry an encouraging tune. You don't know what else you can do.

It helps keep your mind off anything but the horizon as you trudge along. You can almost forget that your feet wet, the way the prickling sunlight feels like it's sinking just under your skin, the weak tug of the ghouls' hunger.

As you go along, some of the words to the song come back. Not all of them, not enough to sing it properly, but it's enough to realize what this was. A song for the last day. That helps too.



The bog just stretches on for so long. You haven't really kept track of how long you've been walking, but you must be nearing the edge by now. Not that there's a clear line, but the peat thins out and things dry up until it's soil the plants are rooted in. And the border is shifting. You knew that, you've always known that, but it's another thing to see it with your eyes. The fallow fields make it harder to tell, and you had only rarely ventured out to it, but it's closer to your village than it used to be. Than it should be. Not that it really matters anymore. You lift your head back to the horizon to avoid thinking about that.

There are silhouettes up ahead. Your breath hitches in your throat. You spotted them in the side of your vision, and turning your head to the right you can see them properly. It doesn't take much scrutiny to guess these are ghouls, sidling off... somewhere. Vaguely in the same direction as you are heading. Your first impulse is to ignore them, the way you always did back then, but something feels wrong. It takes a bit of thought to realize why.

They're wandering out of the bog. If they kept going that way... They might hurt people. There's a pack of five, and that's enough to be dangerous, if they go unnoticed. Or if they find someone traveling... You aren't willing to risk that, you ought to do something.

[] Send them back. If you catch up to them, it would be easy enough to turn them around. They aren't moving with purpose, just shuffling all together. It's sunlight, they were probably caught out by dawn and searching for cover. They'll probably keep heading the way you point them well after you let go of their 'leashes'. Ghouls in the bog don't pose nearly as much danger as those outside it, surely.

[] Bring them with you. It isn't taking much effort to lead four. Surely nine should be manageable. You managed to calm yourself down, and the extra food last night helped. This should be uneventful, like most of the patrols you've done. That boy did what he set out to do. What reason would anyone have to come out this way? Even if there is something, they won't hurt anyone with your eye on them. You can let them go when you're deeper in the bog on your way back. Or take them all the way back. Would they do less harm stranded or bottled up in that base?

[] Put them to rest. It's not just whoever they might run into that you can help. You can help them. Those are people, and their corpses shouldn't be shuffling around like desperate feral animals. They deserve to be laid to their rest. You could at least give them a real burial, even if you couldn't leave proper markers. It isn't as if you've never killed ghouls before. Just twice and in self-defense, but it isn't something that's beyond you. It would be helping them, right?



Physical Power [2] (0/800 XP)
You are much stronger and faster than you look. Your raw physical prowess isn't beyond human limits, but it is probably more than you could have reached in life. You wonder if eating alright has to do with it; you are stronger than you were, now that you've been eating better. Or maybe that's only what passes for a superstition among the undead, and your growth for another reason.

Enhanced Perception [2] (165/800 XP)
You have exceptionally keen eyes and ears. It's difficult to exactly tell, but you think you've been noticing things you before might have missed. Your vision in low-light is beyond most any human, but typical of a wight. Your extra sense, whatever you should call it, is sharper. It's grown more usual, the awareness of the wights and ghouls around you a familiar background which is only sometimes brought into sharper relief. You can't shut out your perception of others' power even when you want to. But with focus you can better pick up on the location and nature of whatever it is you're sensing.

Healing [3*] (0/1600 XP)
*Power: Temporary Healing
You have a power that is, as far as you know, unique: most wounds you suffer close almost instantly, scabbed over by something disconcertingly like bark; and even lost limbs can be suddenly replaced with something spindly, brittle, and sharp; almost wooden, like your horn. Flesh and everything else will regrow to replace it, but while that is impossibly fast for a human, it is still a gradual process, depending on the nature of your wound and your power. Besides that, your healing is fairly exceptionally fast. You can speed up your proper healing with active effort, but the cost is power, and that means hunger.

Domination [2] (0/800 XP)
Your control of ghouls may not be as typical as you thought. You've found the control surprisingly easy when you've really called on it, but haven't tested your limits. Your unconscious pull on ghouls is easily overshadowed by another wight, even though it takes you effort to suppress it yourself. Your active control has only rarely failed you, and isn't so easily wrested away. You can give fairly sophisticated commands, at least if they're one step.

Magic [X] (—)
Your power comes to you naturally in several ways. You cannot channel it to other ends, and have no idea where to start.



Combat Skill [2] (200/800 XP)
You don't have much combat experience per se. Still, hunting has given you experience with weapons (such as they were) and applying more finesse than sheer brute force. You have good hand-eye coordination. As well, taking as much punishment as you have has been its own teacher. You can better press on after taking a hit, and you think you have a good grasp on your limits.

Cooking [3] (0/1600 XP)
You are a very good cook. You know a fair number of simple recipes from life, though ones using only readily-found ingredients are few, and your equipment is quite lacking; still, you know enough to make your meat rations into something properly palatable, with a little time and effort. You distantly remember that most dinners were left to you; not alone, of course, but you had taken over the main responsibility from your mother, you think. It was beyond difficult to practice much real cooking out in the wet of the bog, but still, it seems a lifetime's practice isn't lost so easily; even if yours was a short lifetime.
 
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[X] Bring them with you.

Good to see this again. And I say we bring them home with us, left alone to wander in the swamp they may end up wandering back out of it again.

Adding them to the army isn't great but just leaving them to wander isn't safe either, especially if they're this far out where they're at risk of bumping in to people.

Keeping them deep inside the swamp far away from humans they might hurt means that the humans won't get hurt, it means the ghouls won't get hurt. And it means the base is kept secret because there's less evidence of ghouls in the swamp.

Ultimately, if ghouls are wandering out of the swamps, sooner or later someone might get the idea to go searching in the swamps for their source. Keeping them at home means that's less likely.

Killing them, well. I've already said I don't want to hurt the ghouls, people or not. And the option to kill them, well it talks about helping them, but it also explicitly lays out that they're people. And sure, a burial might be nice for the people they were, and Ythona has killed them in self-defence. But in my opinion this would be something different, killing them when we don't have to.

There's also the time taken to kill them, digging the graves, burying them. Far faster and easier to lead them back to the base where they can be handed over to the soldier or added to those protecting the back gate.
 
[X] Bring them with you.

None of the other options look strictly better and Ythona's been thinking about strategy, so if she wants to get closer to the master, we might as well bring him back presents. Chances are, it's also the most likely to get a reaction out of Fleshrender and, even if it has been a while, "Screw that guy in particular" is an impression that will last for a good long while. The one thing I'm worried about is that the option is setting us up for complications in whatever other encounter decides to suprise us on the way back.

Regardless, I too am happy to see this update again.
And [X] Plan: Sight and Sword carried the XP vote, assigning 440 XP to Combat Skill and 360 to Enhanced Perception. Now, the plan specified 300 and 245 XP respectively, picked to be just enough to level up. But I only just now noticed that leaves an unassigned 255 XP. Extending the vote at this point would be a bit silly, so I've just split the extra between the two in that rough proportion, hence the extra 140 XP to Combat Skill and 115 to Enhanced Perception.
Without going back or double checking, I'd guess that not spending all the XP was on purpose to safe it up until we have enough for an actual level up instead of putting it into skills in a way that primes us to level it up the next opporturnity we get to avoid "wasting" the XP.
 
[X] Bring them with you.

Letting them wander alone seems like asking for trouble. But burying them also gives me the feeling something might go wrong, somehow. Maybe Fleshrender finds out and accuses us of treason or something. Or maybe I'm just paranoid. If it weren't for that, otherwise burying them would be my first choice.

Really glad to see this update again! There's just so much more to explore here. Hope life starts treating you better.
 
[X] Bring them with you.

Besides the other reasons already mentioned it's also a good cover. The individual who brings ghouls back (unthinking and who do not care) would not be the person to suspect of being the most resistant and attempting to find anyway to not bring back living people to be converted.
 
[X] Bring them with you.

Happy to see Ythona and gang back! I say we bring these ghouls back to base, extra protection against whatever killed the last wight sent here.
 
Your mind turns to that young man you ran into. He was frightened by you, terrified, and of course he was but... You had been furious. You remember feeling like you were only barely controlling yourself, like you would lash out and hurt the poor boy. And yes, you were starving, you were in pain, you had four ghouls in tow... But you're leading four along now, and their hunger gnawing at you isn't so difficult to ignore.

Have you changed that much? That was... That was only three days ago. It's hard to believe. How has so much happened, so suddenly? You... You didn't talk to anyone only five days ago, except when you had to. For weeks. You were just... Were you just stewing in your own misery, scurrying and cringing? For all that time? The others aren't like that, not at all. And now you... What happened?

You had decided to try and talk to the others more, you remember that. It wasn't... It wasn't out of nowhere. Your vision starts to blur, splitting into a dizzy quivering two. You remember now. What it was. You had three years to come to terms with what you were. And you still thought of the others as monsters at first.

Of course it isn't so easy as walking back to humanity. How could it be? Maybe it's not impossible, but, but...
Proposing some possible editing fixes, and also trying to cudgel my tired brain into sifting the update for deeper implications. It feels spurious, but the first thought I had was that we're somehow becoming stronger by recalling more of our human existence. I'm not sure why that thought occurred, but it's been persistent enough that I'll risk voicing it.

I definitely wish I remembered more about how wight power levels work (or at least whatever we've learned of that). Is it like Arrancar, where their power stagnates after their initial (re)formation? Do they normally grow stronger with age, or by getting regular meals?

Hmmm.


EDIT: I realized something. Us being better able to handle the psychic feedback of wrangling four ghouls now might have a direct connection to us reclaiming some of our humanity. Those memories and mannerisms help fortify our own self-identity, giving us anchors we can use to 'hold firm' and suppress possible feedback from the ghoul-link.
 
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Okay, I decided to look through my prior posts, and this jumped out at me

He smiles, and it's rich in condescension. "Oh, don't fret. You won't be finding yourself lost in a sea of new peers, suddenly unimportant. Even if you aren't my handiwork, you're well above what can be managed with that technique. I simply don't have need for that many unimpressive wights when I already have the ghouls. I'll save my resources for more productive matters."
That's a statement worth reflecting on. At first blush, you'd think that a force of 'ghouls that can think' would actually be quite useful for a war against the living. Common ghouls are mindless animals, too degraded to wield weapons, fight tactically, or maintain the situational awareness that's critical in surviving a battlefield.

Having wights control them would help, but I don't remember any evidence that a wight commanding a force of ghouls gains any kind of superhuman multitasking ability or sense-riding that would let them issue fine-grain, customized orders. Unless otherwise indicated, that would mean that wights are stuck with issuing fairly generalized commands for any ghoul that's not within direct line of sight.

Augmenting ghoul swarms with small clusters of "soldiers" which can use things like shields, spears, and missile weapons should be a no-brainer, right? In a way, them being weaker than other sorts of wight is itself a benefit, because it means they're entirely disposable and unable to meaningfully contest "officers" like Fleshrender. You could argue that sapience is a downgrade from mindless obedience, but he's already relying on individual wights to manage the hordes via their powers.

Does that mean that he's lacking in military/strategic knowledge, or does that mean there's some aspect of his necromancy, or the wider world's methods of combating necromancy, which changes the equation?
 
[X] Bring them with you.

This quest is as hard to kill as Ythona is, with how many times it keeps coming back to life. And thank god for that, these updates bring me a lot of joy. Glad you're back!
 
Does that mean that he's lacking in military/strategic knowledge, or does that mean there's some aspect of his necromancy, or the wider world's methods of combating necromancy, which changes the equation?
Given his general pathological arrogance, almost certainly the former. I don't think he really grasps the idea that an army being full of actual people who have brains of their own, rather than automata who execute orders, is a good thing.
 
I could see it as 'unimpressive wights' aren't that great of an improvement over a greater amount of ghouls, with a potentially higher cost than said ghouls. A wight like Fleshrender. Who's greatest tactics would be more akin to 'what the ghouls would do anyways'. The only advantage being able to take them back.

And depending on who he's facing right now, he might only really need ghouls right now, to win against his opponents while he's hidden away. Trying to get the 'impressive' wights.

There would be a bit of irony if being more human is what caused the impressiveness. Treating them more like people. And cooked food. Wouldn't explain how Ythona managed. Could be the process he's doing strips individuality for control. Ironically blocking him from the results he actually wants. But then, the obvious downsides there.
 
Your troubles were so far from your mind, you had forgotten all about that dinner by the time you had caught up. Wenna had ran quite a ways before then, and you still only caught her then because she'd stopped. You'd thought it was because she had to catch her breath, but she wasn't all giggles like usual. It took you too long to see what she was looking out. But you look at it right away now. It wasn't fully dark yet, and it was lingering under the shadow of a tree. You had thought it was a person, at first. You forget what you noticed that gave away it wasn't. It was your first time seeing a ghoul, after all.

This all already happened. It isn't happening. It doesn't matter.

But you grab Wenna's hand and squeeze it tight anyways. Even though there's no danger. You already know what's going to happen in the end. You both saw it, and then you ran back and warned everyone. Nobody got hurt. It was fine. But your heart is hammering so hard and you can't breathe. Your skin is burning. You can't even feel her hand in yours anymore. You squeeze harder and all it gets you is claws dug into your palm.

You cower beneath the tree and watch the two girls run off. Back home. Back to their lives.

It's just interesting to note how Ythona's memory splits here. Because it does make logical sense to put her in the ghoul's position.

On the other hand it is a Ghoul under a tree. And yeah - trees, bark and Ythona.

EDIT: I realized something. Us being better able to handle the psychic feedback of wrangling four ghouls now might have a direct connection to us reclaiming some of our humanity. Those memories and mannerisms help fortify our own self-identity, giving us anchors we can use to 'hold firm' and suppress possible feedback from the ghoul-link

Or at least a sense of self which for Ythona is her humanity.

You take a step after them, and then turn back to look at Pepin. He looks even more shaken than you. Frozen with terror. Bonecruncher and Sybil aren't waiting for him, or for you. You aren't sure how Fleshrender flexes his power, but you try to do it. Reaching out with your mind like you might towards ghouls, and then... leaving it. "Here."

Pepin snaps his head up towards you with wide eyes. Then he relaxes just slightly, and hurries over to your side. Maybe he still can't help but think of you as intimidating, or even a monster, but at least you aren't Fleshrender. You're not sure if your power feels like anything, but it's certainly not claws ready to tear him to shreds. Looking down at him, you want to offer him a hand, but he doesn't need it.

Ythona just really does not like Fleshrender even if she's not outright trying to get into fights.

Then Pepin smiles at you. "On the walk, it reminded me of earlier today. When you... reached out? Whatever that is. Right before we all left in the first place. I couldn't even move until you did that. It helped a lot. Thank you."

You nod. "Of course. It was just a guess that it would even help at all, honestly, so I'm glad it did." If it hadn't... You wouldn't have left him, but you'd rather not think about how else you could have helped. "Oh, actually, about that. When I did that, did it feel like anything? If Fleshrender wasn't drowning it out with his..." You trail off, as the memory of how his power feels surfaces. You shudder, and try to distract yourself from that sensation. What was it, four times today you've had to face it? You don't need more, not even just a pale echo.

"Shade." You look back to Pepin, momentarily lost but grateful for the distraction. "It felt like being in shade. In the good way, like when it's a bright, hot day. Or... any day now, I guess. Sorry if that's a bad answer. I don't think I'm good with this stuff."

A sense of self is entwined with the claiming of humanity. Which makes sense - a life time just has more time to develop that sense of self.

Ythona claiming continuity of self links her to years of being a person which just outweighs any of the created Wights.

Slowly, he nods. "That's a good answer. You're certainly a driven one, aren't you? Oh, what I could have made with you, had I only been given the chance... But it's more interesting to see how you manage just as you are."

So just a thing to note here: Driven individuals or people that make for natural Wights seem to be good Resources for the Necromancer. Hopefully the trait doesn't run in families given the several siblings.

But that all cracks when Bell shouts. "Ythona!" Then she cringes, her grip on your shoulder slackens, and her voice drops to a hiss. "He won't know you told me. Ythona, I don't know how you've healed already, but there is blood still smeared on your face. What did he do?"

Bell knows about Ythona's fast healing - the question is if she mentioned it to the Necromancer
 
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