Earth Bet: House of the Sun (Cultist Simulator/Worm)

Voting is open
Another History: Turn 8
Breathing hurt. Every inhale felt like someone was stabbing you in the chest, but there was nothing you could do about it. It was a fact you had to accept, as frustrating as it was. Your body was on the mend, but it would take time to fully heal—time you didn't have. You knew Alicja wouldn't let you recover in peace. She was smart enough to seize the advantage while you were still licking your wounds, and you needed to be ready for that.

"Here you go, sir," the nurse said as she handed you a clipboard with a discharge form. Her voice was soft but professional, and the sympathy in her eyes was barely masked. You took the clipboard, looking down at the paperwork with a frown. Your hand moved slowly, the pain in your chest flaring with every slight movement, but you managed to start filling out the form.

The doctors wanted to keep you here for observation. They had patched you up well enough, but they were concerned about complications—internal bleeding, infection, any number of things that could still go wrong. But you knew your body. You'd been through worse and walked away from it. Gunshot wounds, stabbings, all kinds of trauma that should have put you down for good, yet here you were. You healed fast. You always had. And while these new scars would be a nuisance, they wouldn't stop you.

Your pen scratched the paper as you signed your name at the bottom. The nurse looked at it for a moment, her eyes flicking between you and the clipboard. She clearly wasn't happy with your decision to leave. But there was nothing she could do. You hadn't committed any crimes, and nobody was coming to arrest you. Your wounds weren't enough to keep you trapped here, so you handed the clipboard back and made your choice.

The nurse pursed her lips but said nothing, simply taking the form and walking away, leaving you to your thoughts. You weren't walking too well yet. Your legs felt like they could give out at any moment, which only deepened the frustration gnawing at you. That's where Ai came in. She had been waiting outside, and the second the nurse left, she appeared in the doorway, her eyes sweeping over you, assessing the damage.

Her expression didn't shift. No disgust, no pity, just a calm, quiet observation. Even with your wounds stitched up and bandaged, you knew you looked like hell. Still, there wasn't even a flicker of revulsion on her face.

"I'm fine," you snapped, seeing her start to move as if to help you. With a grimace, you pushed yourself up out of the bed, ignoring the stabbing pain in your ribs. It was a struggle, but you managed to get yourself into the wheelchair without her help, though it was a close thing. Ai, ever patient, just stood by, waiting, not saying a word.

Once you were seated in the chair, she stepped behind you and took hold of the handles, wheeling you out of the room slowly and steadily. Her hands were gentle like she knew exactly how to push this wheelchair and how not to harm you. It was infuriating in its own way.

You hated that she had come to help you. The whole thing grated on you, even if you couldn't put it into words. You were used to handling things on your own, even when you were hurt. Having someone swoop in when you were down felt wrong, as if it was undermining your ability to stand on your own two feet. The fact that it was Ai only made it worse. You trusted her, sure, but there was always the nagging thought in the back of your mind that she might hold this over you later. Yet, she hadn't made any indication of that. Not a single word of leverage or manipulation. It seemed like she was just… helping.

"You don't owe me anything," she murmured as she leaned down close to your ear, her breath warm against your skin. "I simply wished to help."

Her words, soft and sincere, only made you grumble in irritation. You shifted in the wheelchair, trying to alleviate the ache in your body, but it just triggered another wave of pain. You weren't in a position to argue, not right now, but that didn't make it any easier to accept the situation. You had too much to do, and your injuries were already putting you behind schedule.

There were battles to fight, plans to make, and with Alicja likely regrouping and plotting her next move, you knew you couldn't afford to rest. Every hour you spent recovering was an hour closer to her launching a counterattack. And right now, you needed to be three steps ahead of her. But first, you had to get out of this damned hospital and back to work. Even if your body wasn't quite ready, your mind was already preparing for this month.


Please observe a one hour moratorium before voting

Vote by plan

You have 1 month until the cult reconvenes, it would be a very good idea for you to have gained at least some understanding of Endbringer durability and some form of combatants are ready.

Possible Actions: You have 4 Actions each month, more can be gained by spending less time at work.

Current Funds: 634
Income: 100 Funds/Month


[] You are injured (You currently have three wounds. You'll make a roll at +5 against a DC of 70. You must select one of the below)
-[] Rest and recover (Cost zero actions, roll one recovery dice.)
-[] Take a break here and there (Costs one action, roll two recovery dice. 0/-15)
-[] Sit down, take time to care for yourself (Costs two actions, roll three recovery dice 0/-15/-30)
-[] You're near death, you have to slow down (Costs three actions, roll four recovery dice 0/-15/-30/-45)
–-[] Your body will heal on its own terms (Costs nothing)
–-[] The medicine is dark black, it's easy to think you've been poisoned (Costs 30 Funds, one recovery dice will automatically succeed)
–-[] A touch here and there of something a bit stronger (Costs 60 Funds, two recovery dice will automatically succeed)
–-[] A stay at home nurse, to tend to your wounds and the more unpleasant tasks they require (Costs 90 Funds, three recovery dice will automatically succeed)
–-[] His services don't come cheap and his silence is even more expensive (Costs 120 Funds, four recovery dice will automatically succeed)

[] On work and the challenges it entails.
-[] You'll work your hours and no more (Gain no extra actions, default)
-[] You'll cut a few corners here, leave a bit early (Gain an extra action, will not be noticed if not done often. Your work is slightly less likely to notice your wounds)
-[] You've got sick days, use them (Gain two extra actions, will be noticed by your direct superior, although the full extent is unknown. Your work is less likely to notice your wounds)
-[] Something has come up and you'll be out of the office for a week (Gain three extra actions, may be noticed by the Director although the response is not known. Your work is significantly less likely to notice your wounds)
-[] You can't even step foot in the office this month (Gain four extra actions, you will be called out on this. Your work will not to notice your wounds)

[] On your Foe, and the danger she wields
-[] Attack her, finish this (This is Assaulting an Opponent Expedition)
-[] Tail her, keep an eye on what she does (Doing this yourself will be less effective then sending somebody else)
-[] Go see Gunsmith, try and pry out anything he knows about her
-[] Keep an eye open and stay on guard (This will make it harder for Alicja to assault, spy on you, etc)
-[] Do something about her, talk to her, trick her, hurt her (Write in your objective)

[] On promotion and improvement (The below actions improve your chance of being selected as Director should Carol be unable to perform her duties.)
-[] You'll stay and work longer hours
-[] You'll put the work in and bust a few gang operations
-[] There are capes out on the streets, you'll put them behind bars
-[] Request some help from Ai, she'll do her best to make sure Carol isn't fit to do her job

[] On the goal. (All of the following options are suspicious. This only applies if you are caught)
-[] Do some research, watch some tapes of the fighting (No suspicion)
-[] Ask around, start seeing what folks know (No suspicion)
-[] Dig into the files, take a peek at confidential information (Major suspicion)
-[] Ask the returning Heroes some questions, see what they learned (No suspicion)

[] On furthering the cause.
-[] Train the fodder, get them up to snuff
-[] Search out the talented, teach them Edge
-[] Build up the loyalty of the cult, ensure they'll listen to you if need be
-[] Assist somebody else in their task
--[] Arch, the Loremaster
--[] Ai, the Spymaster
--[] Who? (Write in)
-[] Items and strange artifacts, go search for them. They could be useful

[] On learning the Lores.
-[] Search for books
--[] In the local libraries and bookstores
--[] Stranger and more hidden places
--[] Online, from places abroad (Will cost 10 Funds per book in shipping)
-[] You Master is willing to teach, request a lesson
--[] What lore? (Write in, she is willing to teach all Lores, except Heart, up to level 2. You will gain 1 scrap of that lore)
-[] The cult's library has a few texts, go read up on them
--[] The manuscript on Heart (You will gain 1 scrap of Heart)
--[] The manuscript on Forge (You will gain 1 scrap of Forge)
--[] The manuscript on Secret Histories (You will gain 1 scrap of Secret Histories)
-[] You've got your own books now, just read them
--[] Write in (Pick two books, can have been bought this turn)

[] On Rites, Rituals and the things inbetween
-[] You'll cast The Attention of the Laws (Write in Lore, the first cast is a Free Action)

[] The Mansus, a place of contradictions. It calls to you, reach out.
-[] Explore the Woods and it's many secrets
--[] Explore the Luster-Drowned Well
-[] Climb higher, Glory awaits

[] On matters outside the cult.
-[] Spend time with somebody
--[] Who? (Write in)
-[] Get to know somebody
--[] Who? (Write in, somebody from work, a low level person inside the cult, a random joe on the street etc)
-[] Hire some muscle (Will cost a variable amount of funds)

[] Something else? (Write in, must be approved by QM)
 
Last edited:
Vote Closed
Winning Vote:
[X] Plan She Will Follow Up V2
-[X] You are injured (You currently have three wounds. You'll make a roll at +5 against a DC of 70. You must select one of the below)
--[X] Take a break here and there (Costs one action, roll two recovery dice. 0/-15)
---[X] A touch here and there of something a bit stronger (Costs 60 Funds, two recovery dice will automatically succeed)
-[X] On work and the challenges it entails.
--[X] You've got sick days, use them (Gain two extra actions, will be noticed by your direct superior, although the full extent is unknown. Your work is less likely to notice your wounds)
-[X] On your Foe, and the danger she wields
--[X] Keep an eye open and stay on guard (This will make it harder for Alicja to assault, spy on you, etc)
--[X] Do something about her, talk to her, trick her, hurt her (Fortify our home)
--[X] Do something about her, talk to her, trick her, hurt her (Find some Poisons to use against her and hers)
-[X] On furthering the cause.
--[X] Train the fodder, get them up to snuff
-[X] On matters outside the cult.
--[X] Hire some muscle (Will cost a variable amount of funds)
-[X] On Rites, Rituals and the things inbetween
--[X] You'll cast The Attention of the Laws (Edge)
Scheduled vote count started by Witherbrine26 on Nov 30, 2024 at 5:51 PM, finished with 49 posts and 10 votes.

  • [X] Plan She Will Follow Up V2
    -[X] You are injured (You currently have three wounds. You'll make a roll at +5 against a DC of 70. You must select one of the below)
    --[X] Take a break here and there (Costs one action, roll two recovery dice. 0/-15)
    ---[X] A touch here and there of something a bit stronger (Costs 60 Funds, two recovery dice will automatically succeed)
    -[X] On work and the challenges it entails.
    --[X] You've got sick days, use them (Gain two extra actions, will be noticed by your direct superior, although the full extent is unknown. Your work is less likely to notice your wounds)
    -[X] On your Foe, and the danger she wields
    --[X] Keep an eye open and stay on guard (This will make it harder for Alicja to assault, spy on you, etc)
    --[X] Do something about her, talk to her, trick her, hurt her (Fortify our home)
    --[X] Do something about her, talk to her, trick her, hurt her (Find some Poisons to use against her and hers)
    -[X] On furthering the cause.
    --[X] Train the fodder, get them up to snuff
    -[X] On matters outside the cult.
    --[X] Hire some muscle (Will cost a variable amount of funds)
    -[X] On Rites, Rituals and the things inbetween
    --[X] You'll cast The Attention of the Laws (Edge)
    [X] Plan: Heal and Protect
    -[X] On work and the challenges it entails.
    --[X] You've got sick days, use them (Gain two extra actions, will be noticed by your direct superior, although the full extent is unknown. Your work is less likely to notice your wounds)
    -[X] You are injured (You currently have three wounds. You'll make a roll at +5 against a DC of 70. You must select one of the below)
    --[X] Sit down, take time to care for yourself (Costs two actions, roll three recovery dice 0/-15/-30)
    ---[X] A stay at home nurse, to tend to your wounds and the more unpleasant tasks they require (Costs 90 Funds, three recovery dice will automatically succeed)
    -[X] On your Foe, and the danger she wields
    --[X] Keep an eye open and stay on guard (This will make it harder for Alicja to assault, spy on you, etc)
    -[X] On furthering the cause.
    --[X] Train the fodder, get them up to snuff
    --[X] Assist somebody else in their task
    ---[X] Ai, the Spymaster
    -[X] On learning the Lores.
    --[X] The cult's library has a few texts, go read up on them
    ---[X] The manuscript on Heart (You will gain 1 scrap of Heart)
    -[X] On Rites, Rituals and the things inbetween
    --[X] You'll cast The Attention of the Laws (Edge)
    [X] Plan: Guard and Research
    -[X] You are injured (You currently have three wounds. You'll make a roll at +5 against a DC of 70. You must select one of the below)
    --[X] Take a break here and there (Costs one action, roll two recovery dice. 0/-15)
    ---[X] A touch here and there of something a bit stronger (Costs 60 Funds, two recovery dice will automatically succeed)
    -[X] On work and the challenges it entails.
    --[X] You've got sick days, use them (Gain two extra actions, will be noticed by your direct superior, although the full extent is unknown. Your work is less likely to notice your wounds)
    -[X] On your Foe, and the danger she wields
    --[X] Keep an eye open and stay on guard (This will make it harder for Alicja to assault, spy on you, etc)
    --[X] Do something about her, talk to her, trick her, hurt her (Fortify our home)
    -[X] On furthering the cause.
    --[X] Train the fodder, get them up to snuff
    -[X] On Rites, Rituals and the things inbetween
    --[X] You'll cast The Attention of the Laws (Grail)
    -[X] The Mansus, a place of contradictions. It calls to you, reach out.
    --[X] Explore the Woods and it's many secrets
    -[X] On matters outside the cult.
    --[X] Spend time with somebody
    ---[X] Who? (Arch)
    [X] Plan: Train and Research
    -[X] You are injured (You currently have three wounds. You'll make a roll at +5 against a DC of 70. You must select one of the below)
    --[X] Take a break here and there (Costs one action, roll two recovery dice. 0/-15)
    ---[X] A touch here and there of something a bit stronger (Costs 60 Funds, two recovery dice will automatically succeed)
    -[X] On work and the challenges it entails.
    --[X] You've got sick days, use them (Gain two extra actions, will be noticed by your direct superior, although the full extent is unknown. Your work is less likely to notice your wounds)
    -[X] On your Foe, and the danger she wields
    --[X] Do something about her, talk to her, trick her, hurt her (Fortify our home)
    -[X] On furthering the cause.
    --[X] Train the fodder, get them up to snuff
    --[X] Search out the talented, teach them Edge
    -[X] On Rites, Rituals and the things inbetween
    --[X] You'll cast The Attention of the Laws (Edge)
    -[X] The Mansus, a place of contradictions. It calls to you, reach out.
    --[X] Explore the Woods and it's many secrets
    -[X] On matters outside the cult.
    --[X] Spend time with somebody
    ---[X] Who? (Arch)
 
Another History: Turn 8 - Results, Part 1
[X] Plan She Will Follow Up V2
-[X] You are injured (You currently have three wounds. You'll make a roll at +5 against a DC of 70. You must select one of the below)
--[X] Take a break here and there (Costs one action, roll two recovery dice. 0/-15)
---[X] A touch here and there of something a bit stronger (Costs 60 Funds, two recovery dice will automatically succeed)
-[X] On work and the challenges it entails.
--[X] You've got sick days, use them (Gain two extra actions, will be noticed by your direct superior, although the full extent is unknown. Your work is less likely to notice your wounds)
-[X] On your Foe, and the danger she wields
--[X] Keep an eye open and stay on guard (This will make it harder for Alicja to assault, spy on you, etc)
--[X] Do something about her, talk to her, trick her, hurt her (Fortify our home)
--[X] Do something about her, talk to her, trick her, hurt her (Find some Poisons to use against her and hers)
-[X] On furthering the cause.
--[X] Train the fodder, get them up to snuff
-[X] On matters outside the cult.
--[X] Hire some muscle (Will cost a variable amount of funds)
-[X] On Rites, Rituals and the things inbetween
--[X] You'll cast The Attention of the Laws (Edge)

You're a respectable man now—someone technically on the straight and narrow. No warrants out for your arrest, no government looking for you, and on paper, you weren't a criminal. It was a far cry from how things used to be, but despite all that, this bar felt familiar. You'd been in places like it before, many years ago and far across the sea, back when things were simpler and more dangerous.

The place was seedy, dimly lit, and reeked of stale beer and smoke. It was nothing like Anatoly's bar, where everything was kept meticulously clean and in order. Anatoly ran a tight ship—spills were cleaned the moment they hit the floor, glasses polished to a shine, and even the riffraff knew better than to make a mess. Here, though, it was different. The floor was sticky in places, grimy in others, and you had to watch where you stepped. The crowd was rougher, too, more unpredictable, the kind of people who would throw a punch before they finished their drink if you looked at them the wrong way.

You made your way to the bar, navigating the sticky patches on the floor with a grimace. Drinking wasn't in the cards for you tonight. You were still on the mend, and mixing your meds with too much alcohol wasn't an option if you wanted to stay conscious.

"Something light," you told the bartender, glancing around the room as you spoke. You weren't a heavy drinker by nature, but in a place like this, not drinking at all would raise questions. You took the glass when it came, a weak beer that wouldn't do much to your system. You made sure to sip it slowly, alternating with water to stay clear-headed. You had work to do.

The place was filled with potential hires, but you had to be careful. Not everyone here was worth your time or money, and some of them would sooner knife you than work for you if things went south. You scanned the crowd, looking for muscle, someone capable enough to help track down Alicja and not flinch at a little danger.

[Hiring Muscle DC: 40/60/80/100]

[Roll: 63+9(Diplomacy)+10(GRAIL) = 82]

Your eyes landed on a man sitting in the corner, a hulking figure built like a brick shithouse. He towered over the others, easily seven feet tall, his broad frame clad in dark clothes that strained against his muscles. A simple black mask covered most of his face, but the red garb he wore over it marked him as a cape. A rogue one, from the looks of it. His scowl was deep, a permanent fixture that warned anyone nearby to keep their distance. He wasn't in the mood for talk, and from the tension in his body, he didn't want to be approached.

He wasn't your first choice. He'd be expensive, and capes could be unpredictable, even the more disciplined ones. Besides, you weren't looking for a solo operator—you needed a team.

Your attention shifted to the rest of the room. Small groups of people clustered around tables, most of them the kind who'd take your money but wouldn't stick around when things got tough. You could pay them for odd jobs, maybe have them fetch you books or follow a few leads on Alicja, but they wouldn't be trustworthy enough for the heavy lifting. You noticed how they kept to their own little groups, each one separate from the others, and you knew immediately that hiring one meant the rest would refuse. These weren't men of high moral standing, but they had their own petty rivalries, and none of them would work together without causing problems.

It was almost admirable, in a way. Despite being little more than thugs, they had their own unspoken rules and alliances, as if they understood on some basic level that fighting amongst themselves would only make things worse.

In the far corner, though, you saw something more promising. A group of three men, their plain clothes did not entirely hide the fact that they were wearing body armor underneath. Their posture was different, too—more disciplined, more focused. These were professionals, not amateurs. Mercenaries, by the look of them. They were here for business, and from the gear they carried, they were ready for a fight. No doubt they came with a price tag to match.

You pushed yourself to your feet, grabbing your cane as you were careful to effect a bit of drunkenness as you made your way over. You weren't drunk—not even close—but it never hurt to seem a little less threatening when you were dealing with men like this. The group's leader, a man with close-cropped brown hair and piercing blue eyes, was sitting in the middle. He looked up as you approached, raising an eyebrow as if sizing you up.

"Good evening, gentlemen," you said with a faint smile, the same smile you'd used countless times before when hiring muscle. It was a practiced expression, one that hinted at tight orders but also fat paychecks. The leader's eyebrow rose a little higher, intrigued.

"Looking to hire?" he asked, his voice steady as he set down his drink with a quiet clink against the table.

"Indeed," you replied smoothly, "What's your contract like?"

The first rule of dealing with mercenaries was understanding their contract. Everything else could come later.

"Half payment up front, half at the end," he explained. "We work in three-month periods. If one of us is heavily wounded, they forfeit the end payment and leave the contract."

It was a reasonable setup, standard fare for professionals like this. There was, of course, the unspoken clause—if you sent them on a suicide mission, the contract was null and void. Mercenaries weren't dumb. They knew when they were being played, and no amount of money could buy back trust once it was broken. Still, the terms were fair, and they were exactly what you needed.

The only question left was how much you were willing to spend.

Your options, Current Funds: 574

Simple Muscle, one costs 20 Funds/month, and you can dismiss them at any time as a Free Action

[] Hire muscle (Gain the services of 3 Health, +9 Personal Combat Confidante. They are not as loyal as normal Confidante, and if sufficiently injured, bribed, or conceived, they may leave you or even betray you.)
-[] How many? (You can hire up to six)

Competent Mercenaries, one costs 60 Funds up front and 60 Funds after three months, at which point you will have the option to renew your contract.
[] Hire mercenaries (Gain the services of 4 Health, +17 Personal Combat Confidante. Their actions are limited to going on Expeditions or Guarding you. However, unless you fail to pay them or they are faced with unreasonable expectations, they will not leave.)
-[] How many? (You can hire up to three)

You have found a place where people go to have a drink and offer up their services. You noticed a cape, although decided against approaching him. Perhaps that might change in the future.



Poison was a potent tool—one you had employed countless times before, often with precision and devastating effect. It was a silent weapon, one that did its work quietly, leaving no trail if used properly. But things were different now. You weren't in Poland anymore, and the familiar networks you used to rely on were far behind you. There was no one you could call up for a quick favor, no familiar faces to lean on when you needed certain... supplies. It was a price you had paid when you left, a necessary sacrifice for the freedom and anonymity your new life afforded you.

Still, old habits died hard, and your instincts hadn't dulled with time. If anything, they were sharper. You knew how to find what you needed, how to sniff out the places and people that dealt in the shadows. Finding poison wasn't exactly an ordinary shopping trip, but for someone like you, it was simply a matter of knowing where to look.

[Finding Poison DC: 50/60/80/90]

[Roll: 70+8(Intrigue)+1(SECRET HISTORIES) = 79]

It didn't take long. You spotted the shop out of the corner of your eye, tucked away in a quieter part of town, its plain exterior giving little away. It was called Pierre's Pawnshop, the kind of place that might as well have had a sign out front reading "We Sell Illegal Things." It had that unmistakable feel, the sort of place where the merchandise behind the counter wasn't nearly as important as what was kept in the back room. Your instincts, honed over years of experience, tingled slightly as you approached, and you felt that familiar buzz at the edge of your awareness. It wasn't magic—at least, not the kind you could easily identify—but it was something. The shop felt off in a way that made you curious.

Your cane tapped lightly against the sidewalk as you made your way toward the entrance, and the stiffness in your step was a reminder of your injuries. You weren't fully healed, not yet, but you could walk, and that was enough. You pushed open the door, the bell above it jingling softly, and immediately, a voice greeted you with an almost overwhelming enthusiasm.

"Good afternoon, sir!" A man's voice rang out as the sound of shuffling feet followed. A darker-skinned man, dressed in a worn but well-kept suit, appeared from behind the counter and grasped your hand in an overly friendly manner. His handshake was firm but a bit too eager, his words tumbling out at the rapid pace of a street vendor trying to make a quick sale.

"What can I get for you? Guns, watches, maybe a nice antique lamp? I even have a stoplight if that's something you fancy!" His voice was fast, the kind of cadence that would make any auctioneer jealous. As he spoke, he gestured around the shop, offering to show you everything from old coins to broken electronics, clearly ready to rattle off every item in his inventory if it meant making a sale.

You held up a hand, your voice calm and quiet as you cut through his rapid-fire sales pitch. "None of that," you said softly but firmly. "I'm looking for something a bit more specific. Incapacitants, something to... disable someone without causing too much damage."

At this, Pierre's demeanor shifted ever so slightly. His smile didn't falter, but there was a subtle change in his eyes, a flicker of understanding. He nodded, still moving with the same practiced ease, but now his steps had a purpose. "Ah, of course, of course," he replied, lowering his voice to match yours. "The good stuff, eh? I can't show you everything right off the bat, not without a little... formality first. You understand." He winked as he said this, the kind of wink that told you there were layers to this transaction—layers that would be peeled back once you demonstrated you were serious.

He moved behind the counter, pulling out a small, tightly bound roll of cloth. With a flourish, he unwrapped it, revealing a series of small vials, each filled with various liquids. Some were clear, others murky or tinged with color. They were neatly arranged, and though none of them looked particularly remarkable, you could tell by the way Pierre presented them that they were not ordinary wares.

Your fingers brushed over the vials as you examined them, each one offering a different kind of promise. There was nothing here that compared to the high-end toxins you'd used in the past, back when you had access to the best of the best. But that was a high bar to clear, and this selection would do for now. Pierre watched you carefully, his eyes sharp and calculating, waiting for your decision. He knew the game as well as you did—negotiations like these were always a dance, a careful balance of trust and leverage.

You could feel the weight of his gaze as you deliberated. None of the poisons here would kill outright—not unless you used a very heavy dose—but they would incapacitate. Some would cause paralysis, others drowsiness, and a few would leave the victim disoriented and unable to fight back. It was a decent collection, enough to get the job done if you played your cards right.

"So," Pierre said, his voice low and smooth, "what catches your eye?"

The real question, of course, was how much you were willing to invest in this particular endeavor. Each vial came with its own price, and you had to decide how much you were willing to spend to ensure the right outcome.

Your options (Each dose is good for a single use)

Simple Toxins: Raises the DC to heal wounds by 10, costs 20 Funds/dose

[] Do you buy any, and if so, how many?

Simple Paralytics: Inflicts a -10 combat debuff once a wound has been dealt, costs 30 Funds/dose
[] Do you buy any, and if so, how many?

Simple Venom: Forces a DC 50 check at the end of the next Turn and, on failure, inflicts a wound, costs 40 Funds/dose
[] Do you buy any, and if so, how many?

Potent Toxins: Raises the DC to heal wounds by 20, costs 40 Funds/dose
[] Do you buy any, and if so, how many?

Potent Paralytics: Inflicts a -20 combat debuff once a wound has been dealt, costs 60 Funds/dose
[] Do you buy any, and if so, how many?

You've found a man named Pierre offering up substances that are strange and suspicious, however he refused to show you any of his more potent stock. Although he has made a few unsubtle hints about scratching his back and he'll scratch yours…

In addition, you're now acquaintances with Pierre!


Please combine both poison buying and muscle hiring into a single plan. You will have to pay all costs upfront unless specified otherwise. Current Funds: 574
 
Last edited:
Vote Closed
Winning Vote:
[X] Plan: The best weapon for professionals
-[X] Hire mercenaries (Gain the services of 4 Health, +20 Personal Combat Confidante. Their actions are limited to going on Expeditions or Guarding you. However, unless you fail to pay them or they are faced with unreasonable expectations, they will not leave.)
--[X] 3 mercenaries
-[X] Potent Paralytics
--[X] 4 servings of poison
Scheduled vote count started by Witherbrine26 on Dec 2, 2024 at 7:14 PM, finished with 24 posts and 7 votes.

  • [X] Plan: The best weapon for professionals
    -[X] Hire mercenaries (Gain the services of 4 Health, +17 Personal Combat Confidante. Their actions are limited to going on Expeditions or Guarding you. However, unless you fail to pay them or they are faced with unreasonable expectations, they will not leave.)
    --[X] 3 mercenaries
    -[X] Potent Paralytics
    --[X] 4 servings of poison
 
Last edited:
Another History: Turn 8 - Results, Part 2
You were still in pain, though it was manageable. The cane was becoming less essential with each passing day, but the lingering aches made it clear you weren't at full strength. You couldn't yet move with the precision or speed you'd prefer, and building up your defenses—particularly your home—wasn't something you could fully engage in while your body was still healing. Fortunately, the mercenaries you had hired were proving to be useful, if not a little overenthusiastic about their work.

"I'm telling you," the first one, a burly man with a thick beard, began as he leaned over the blueprints spread across your dining room table. He jabbed a thick finger at the front entrance of your house. "If you want to properly fortify this place, you need a trapped doorway. Something nasty, a makeshift landmine or two. No one gets inside without being blown to smithereens." His grin was unsettling, but it wasn't the first time you'd dealt with men like him—those who found too much joy in destruction.

While the idea wasn't without merit, it was also excessive. You couldn't help but raise an eyebrow, the prospect of landmines not exactly fitting the image of subtlety you had in mind. Before you could respond, the leader of the group, a composed man with close-cropped hair, tapped the blueprint. His voice was more measured.

"No explosives," he countered with authority. "We've got high ground, windows upstairs. One of us positioned at each window can provide covering fire from multiple angles." He gestured toward the second-floor layout, clearly favoring a more controlled and tactical approach. The bearded one scowled, muttering something under his breath, but didn't push the issue further as the third mercenary leaned forward.

This third man, tall and wiry with his hair tied back in a neat bun, chimed in with an air of quiet reason. "No," he said, his voice calm but firm. "We listen to what our employer wants." His words carried weight, and the bearded man's objections were silenced for the moment.

"You really think—" the bearded one started again, though his voice trailed off as the leader cut him off with a sharp look.

"Bristle's right," the leader said, his tone softening as he turned to you, offering a nod of acknowledgment. "We're here to offer advice, sir, but ultimately, the call is yours."

You hummed thoughtfully, rising slowly to your feet, the cane tapping lightly against the hardwood floor as you approached the blueprint-laden table. The weight of their gaze fell on you, waiting for a decision. You appreciated their input, but at the end of the day, this was your house, and you had your own ideas about how to secure it.

"I think..." you began, leaning over the blueprints, running your eyes over the various points of entry and defensible positions. There were plenty of good ideas swirling in your head, but the devil was in the details, and you needed the right materials to make any of them work.

[Fortify your home DC: 20/60/80]

[Roll: 7+7(Stewardship) = 14]

"Damn it," you muttered under your breath as your eyes scanned over the list of supplies Bristle had brought back. Each item, one by one, had been crossed off and marked as unavailable. A wave of frustration surged through you.

"Even the wooden planks?" you asked, your tone incredulous. It was hard to believe a simple hardware store would run out of something so basic. You didn't need much—just enough to board up a few windows or reinforce the front door.

"I'm afraid so," Bristle replied, his voice tinged with an apology. "What they had was either too small or wouldn't hold properly."

You gritted your teeth, fighting back the growing irritation. You didn't need state-of-the-art defenses to fortify the house—just the bare minimum to keep it from being a sitting duck. It was true that this wasn't the best place to make a stand, but it was your place, and for now, you didn't have anywhere else to retreat to.

"In that case," you said, exhaling sharply, "stay on guard. There's not much else we can do at the moment."

The mercenaries nodded, Bristle giving you a curt nod of acknowledgment. The room fell quiet as they shifted their focus back to their tasks. You knew they would stay vigilant, but that did little to ease your mind. The weight of unfinished plans gnawed at you as you pushed yourself to your feet, hobbling back toward your room.

The physical pain wasn't the worst of it—it was the nagging sense of vulnerability, of being unprepared. But just because this avenue was closed off didn't mean you didn't have other plans in motion. There were always more options, always another angle to work. You would find another way to secure your home and prepare for whatever might come next. You sure as hell weren't going to sit around waiting to be caught off guard.

There was still work to be done.

Despite the planning you were unable to get the proper supplies to fortify your home, a simple case of bad luck.



Your cane thumped rhythmically as you entered the gym, each step echoing off the walls. It had been a while since you'd been in a place like this, but Anatoly had made the purchase, and for that, you were grateful. This place wasn't fancy, not by a long shot, but it had everything you needed. Equipment, space, and, most importantly, a group of people who were ready to train. The cult members you hired needed discipline, strength, and endurance, and while you'd have to oversee their progress in shifts due to your current state, a basic fitness regimen was the smartest thing to implement. A well-trained body was a well-trained weapon, after all.

"Should you be training us like that?" one of the men, younger and braver than the others, asked hesitantly, watching you limp around the gym. His tone wasn't confrontational, but there was doubt in his eyes as he glanced at your cane and the way you moved with clear discomfort.

You scowled at him, your cane thumping harder against the ground as you turned to face him. Pain shot up your spine, but you ignored it, the years of experience and sheer willpower making the agony bearable. You stalked toward him slowly, your eyes never leaving him, and when you stood in front of him, you leveled him with a glare that spoke of battles fought and victories hard-won.

"I've fought in worse shape than this," you said, your voice low and sharp, a small edge of anger cutting through. "I could still kill you where you stand, even like this." The cold, hard truth of your words seemed to sink in, and his bravado wavered. You took a step closer, locking eyes with him, your gaze piercing as if to challenge him to test you. "So if you want to see whether I can still train you, go ahead. Make your move."

The room fell silent, every eye on the two of you, the tension thick in the air. The young man mumbled something under his breath and backed down, unwilling to press the issue further. The way your experience radiated off you, the confidence in your words, had been enough. They didn't need to see you fight to believe you still had it.

Satisfied, you turned away from him and took a few steps back. Your back twinged, and your chest ached, but you didn't let it show. Raising your voice to command the attention of everyone present, you ignored the physical strain.

"Alright! Get moving!" you barked, your tone leaving no room for argument. The men snapped into action, falling into their drills. You followed behind them as best you could, your cane tapping against the floor, barking corrections when necessary.

[Training Fodder DC: 50/70]

[Roll: 32+18(Martial) = 50]

But you overdid it. By the time the session came to an end, your back was screaming at you. The dull ache had turned into a sharp, constant pain that spread down your spine, and even though you tried to tough it out, you knew you'd pushed too far. Sitting down heavily on one of the benches, you cursed under your breath. It galled you to no end to be like this—crippled, reliant on a cane, forced to sit when you should be running alongside them, pushing them harder. But you weren't an idiot. You knew the line between a temporary injury and permanent damage, and right now, your body needed rest if you were going to heal. Pushing further would only lead to mutilation, and you weren't about to let that happen.

Swallowing your frustration, you straightened yourself on the bench and raised your voice once again, this time with a little less fire.

"Good," you called out, your voice cutting through the low hum of exhausted men. Slowly, you rose to your feet, the pain in your back flaring, but you kept your movements steady, not allowing anyone to see the full extent of your discomfort. Your hobble was more noticeable now, but no one dared to mention it. They knew better.

"You're all improving," you said, eyes scanning the room. "Keep at it. You're dismissed for tonight. Be back here the day after tomorrow." They needed time to rest and recover, just like you did. No sense in pushing them too hard when they were already worn down. They nodded in acknowledgment, each one leaving in small groups, tired and sore but undeniably better than they were when they started.

As the last of them filtered out of the gym, you allowed yourself a moment of solitude, standing there in the dim light, listening to the sound of your own labored breathing. This wasn't ideal, not by a long shot. You should be stronger than this, should be moving better, faster. But it was what it was, and right now, all you could do was work with the cards you'd been dealt.

Slowly, carefully, you made your way to the door, your cane clicking softly on the floor. Each step was an exercise in patience and restraint, your body protesting the movement, but you pushed through. Reaching your car, you eased yourself into the driver's seat, the familiar sting of pain greeting you as you sat down.

The drive home was quiet, the city passing by in a blur of lights. Your mind raced with plans and contingencies. Just because you were hurt didn't mean the world stopped turning. There were still moves to make, pieces to put into place. You'd take your rest, but your mind would keep working, always thinking two steps ahead.

There was no time for weakness. You wouldn't allow it.

You have improved the Cult followers' combat skills. +2 on tests that require physical strength and personal combat
 
Another History: Turn 8 - Results, Part 3
It's late, well past midnight, and you're sitting in the dim light of your room, trying to lose yourself in a book. Reading wasn't something you found much time for these days. Once, it had been a favorite pastime, but now, it felt like an indulgence you couldn't afford. Tonight was different, though. The exhaustion that pulled at your body demanded rest, and even if you couldn't completely let your guard down, this book was a small distraction, something to keep your mind off the pain and the strain of the last few weeks.

This book wasn't the usual fare. No treatise on warfare or political maneuvering, no dense tomes of strategy or occult theory. It was something lighter, something easier on the mind, almost leisurely. You needed that now, a brief moment to unwind. The fortifications for the house had fallen through, but at least you had three competent men keeping watch. They knew their job, and if anything happened, you trusted them to handle it—or at least give you enough warning to act.

[Staying on Guard DC: 72/92]

[Roll: 92+8(Intrigue) = 100]

You had just turned a page when the sharp, unmistakable sound of shattering glass cut through the night. Immediately, the acrid scent of smoke filled the air, thick and pungent, wafting up from the lower level of the house. A moment later, a shout echoed inside the house, confirming your worst suspicion—fire.

With a grimace, you snap the book shut and rise to your feet, your chest protesting the sudden movement with a dull, familiar ache. Reaching for your cane where it rested beside your bed, you grab it in one hand while hobbling toward the closet with the other. You can feel your pulse quicken, that old familiar rush of adrenaline coursing through you, sharpening your senses even as the pain threatens to slow you down. In the closet, your rifle waits for you, along with a set of quills you've kept prepared for such emergencies. There's no time to fully suit up, but this will have to be enough. It always has been.

"Sir, we've got six inbound!" the leader's voice calls out, slightly muffled through the walls but still clear enough to reach your ears.

You grit your teeth, every step sending a jolt of discomfort through your body as you make your way toward the door.

"Then light them up!" you bark in response, feeling the fire in your chest, not just from pain but from readiness—old instincts flaring back to life.

[Defending the House]

[Your roll: 21+18(Martial)+10(EDGE)+10(Attention of the Laws) = 59]

[Her roll: 100+??(???) = ???]

[She and her men approach the house, entirely unharmed]

The crack of gunfire erupts outside, rhythmic and steady, cutting through the night. Each shot is a reassurance, a reminder that your men know what they're doing. It gives you a moment to steel yourself as you move, your body slow but your mind as sharp as ever. You can't afford to be caught off guard. Not now. If they breach the house, you'll defend it as long as you can, but you've already run through your contingencies in your mind. If it comes to it, you'll flee. You always have a way out.

The stairs creak beneath you as you descend, cane in one hand, rifle in the other. Every step is a struggle, your legs stiff with pain, your breathing tight from the strain. But you push through it, knowing you need to be ready, knowing that every second counts. You're halfway down when you hear it—a loud thud, followed by the unmistakable splintering of wood. The front door. They're inside.

Mentally, you swear, the plan shifting again in your mind. Your rifle is already up, the cold metal steady in your grip as you pause midway down the stairs, waiting, listening for any sound that might give you an advantage. Your heart beats in rhythm with the gunfire still echoing outside, a grim metronome to the chaos unfolding.

[Michael Donovan has invoked Attention of the Laws]

[Michael Donovan's current health: 1/4]

[Alicja's current health: 3/3]

[Minion 1's current health: 3/3]

[Minion 2's current health: 2/3]

[Multi-combatant fight. Michael will only "compete" to wound the nearest enemy, but may be wounded by all other combatants]

[Current overflow (damage occurs on 50): Michael – 0, Alicja – 0, Minions - 0, 0]

[Michael:43+43(Personal Combat)+10(Attention of the Laws)-10(Outnumbered) = 86]

[Alicja:61+25(Personal Combat) = 86]

[Guard 1:20+9(Personal Combat) = 29]

[Guard 2:65+9(Personal Combat) =74]

[Current overflow (damage occurs on 50): Michael – 12, Alicja – 0, Guards - 0, 0]

[Michael: 56+48(Personal Combat)+10(Attention of the Laws)-10(Outnumbered) = 99]

[Alicja: 43+25(Personal Combat) = 68]

[Guard 1: 59+9(Personal Combat) = 68]

[Guard 2: 49+9(Personal Combat) = 58]

[Current overflow (damage occurs on 50): Michael – 31, Alicja – 0, Guards - 0, 0]

[Michael attempts to escape...]

[Alicja successfully intercepts]

[Mercenary 1's current health: 3/3]

[Minion 3's current health: 3/3]

[Current overflow (damage occurs on 50): Mercenary 1– 0, Minion 3 - 0]

[Mercenary 1: 47+20(Personal Combat) = 67]

[Minion 3: 80+9(Personal Combat) = 89]

[Current overflow (damage occurs on 50): Mercenary 1– 0, Minion 3 - 22]

[Mercenary 1: 43+20(Personal Combat) = 63]

[Minion 3: 95+9(Personal Combat) = 104]

[Mercenary 1 suffers one wound (-50 to Minion 1's overflow)]

[Current overflow (damage occurs on 50): Mercenary 1– 0, Minion 3 - 13]

[Nobody wishes to do anything]

[Combat continues as normal]

[Mercenary 2's current health: 3/3]

[Minion 4's current health: 3/3]

[Current overflow (damage occurs on 50): Mercenary 2 – 0, Minion 3 - 0]

[Mercenary 2: 84+20(Personal Combat) = 104]

[Minion 4: 54+9(Personal Combat) = 63]

[Current overflow (damage occurs on 50): Mercenary 2 – 31, Minion 3 - 0]

[Mercenary 2: 9+20(Personal Combat) = 29]

[Minion 4: 19+9(Personal Combat) = 28]

[Current overflow (damage occurs on 50): Mercenary 2 – 32, Minion 3 - 0]

[Nobody wishes to do anything]

[Combat continues as normal]

[Mercenary 3's current health: 3/3]

[Minion 5's current health: 3/3]

[Current overflow (damage occurs on 50): Mercenary 3 – 0, Minion 3 - 0]

[Mercenary 3: 2+20(Personal Combat) = 22]

[Minion 5: 57+9(Personal Combat) = 66]

[Current overflow (damage occurs on 50): Mercenary 3 – 0, Minion 3 - 44]

[Mercenary 3: 22+20(Personal Combat) = 42]

[Minion 4: 76+9(Personal Combat) = 85]

[Mercenary 1 suffers one wound (-50 to Minion 4's overflow)]

[Current overflow (damage occurs on 50): Mercenary 3 – 0, Minion 3 - 37]

[Nobody wishes to do anything]

[Combat continues as normal]

One of the men turns the corner, a face you recognize from the warehouse—rough, unshaven, and determined. He's quick on his feet. The moment you raise your rifle, he ducks instinctively, and your shot hits the floor behind him with a sharp crack, sending a spray of splintered wood flying into the air. The man doesn't stop. He keeps moving, barreling up the stairs, each footstep heavy and urgent, his breath coming in ragged bursts. You grimace, reaching for your cane with one hand as you backpedal, steadying yourself. You fire again, the rifle's recoil jarring your shoulder. This time, the bullet grazes him, a thin line of blood blooming across his side, but he pushes through the pain.

Before you can take another shot, two more figures round the corner. One is familiar—Alicja, her smirk as sharp as ever, and beside her, a nameless thug, just another hired hand in the chaos. Alicja's eyes lock onto yours, and she raises her shotgun with a gleam of amusement.

"I see you're still all busted up," she sneers, her voice dripping with condescension as she fires a blast toward the ceiling. The sound is deafening, and dust and debris rain down, momentarily obscuring your vision. You curse under your breath as you try to keep your focus. By the time the dust clears, one of the men has reached the top of the stairs, advancing on you, his eyes wary but intent.

You don't have time to think. Instinct kicks in as you grab one of your quills, the sleek weapon sliding into your grip with practiced ease. You jab it forward in a warning, the sharp tip gleaming under the light. The man falters for a moment, hesitation flickering across his face. He doesn't want to get close—not with that in your hand—but he's clearly weighing his options, looking for an opening.

You take another step back, your body protesting every movement, your chest screaming in pain with each breath. You can't see what's happening below, but from the sounds of grunts and gunfire, you know your mercenaries are still holding off the rest of the attackers. You just need to hold the line and keep these three at bay long enough for your men to finish their fight and come to your aid.

"Stay back," you growl, your voice rough and laced with pain, the vibration of your own words reverberating painfully through your chest. You lunge forward with the quill again, forcing the man to take a hasty step back, his face pale with uncertainty. Down the stairs, Alicja watches with a cruel smile, enjoying the struggle as she slowly aims her gun.

"You really think you can hold out like this?" Alicja taunts, her voice cutting through the tension like a knife. "Look at you. You're practically falling apart."

You ignore her, focusing on the man in front of you. His hesitation is your only advantage right now, and you have to press it. Another quick swipe of the quill, and he stumbles back again, his grip on his weapon tightening nervously. You can see the fear in his eyes now, a flicker of doubt. He doesn't want to get too close, not when you're so desperate, so ready to strike.

But that won't last forever, and you're tiring your wounded body; it's failing you.

[Michael Donovan has invoked Attention of the Laws]

[Michael Donovan's current health: 1/4]

[Alicja's current health: 3/3]

[Minion 1's current health: 3/3]

[Minion 2's current health: 2/3]

[Multi-combatant fight. Michael will only "compete" to wound the nearest enemy, but may be wounded by all other combatants]

[Current overflow (damage occurs on 50): Michael – 31, Alicja – 0, Minions - 0, 0]

[Michael:42+43(Personal Combat)+10(Attention of the Laws)-10(Outnumbered) = 85]

[Alicja:92+25(Personal Combat) = 117]

[Minion 1:72+9(Personal Combat) = 81]

[Minion 2:17+9(Personal Combat) =26]

[Current overflow (damage occurs on 50): Michael – 71, Alicja – 32, Minions- 0, 0]

[Minion 1 suffers one wound (-50 to Micheal's overflow)]

[Michael: 18+43(Personal Combat)+10(Attention of the Laws)-10(Outnumbered) = 61]

[Alicja: 77+25(Personal Combat) = 102]

[Minion 1: 51+9(Personal Combat) = 90]

[Minion 2: 46+9(Personal Combat) = 55]

[Current overflow (damage occurs on 50): Michael – 33, Alicja – 61, Minions - 0, 0]

[Micheal suffers one wound (-50 to Micheal's overflow)]

[Micheal has been defeated]

The man's eyes hardened, and then he lunged. You react instantly, slamming your quill deep into his shoulder. The sharp tip splintered on impact, and he let out a sharp gasp, stumbling as his blood began to flow freely, staining his shirt a deep crimson. You took a quick step back, your feet pounding against the floor, your heart racing as adrenaline surged through your veins. The man collapsed to one knee, his knife still clutched in his hand, though his strength was clearly fading. He pushed himself back to his feet, staggering slightly, the knife trembling as he struggled to maintain his grip. But it was obvious—he was bleeding out. He wouldn't last long and so he was debating fleeing.

That's when you heard her. Alicja. She appeared at the top of the stairs, calm, almost predatory, her eyes gleaming with harmful intent. She took in the scene before her with a slow, calculating gaze, assessing the situation as the man in front of you wavered. You watched him out of the corner of your eye, but he was already stepping back, retreating into the shadows. He didn't want any part of this anymore. He was wounded, tired, and smart enough to know that taking another step forward would mean his death. He was letting Alicja take center stage, and you knew this was where the real fight would begin.

Behind her, another man appeared at the top of the stairs, flanking her like a silent shadow. You could hear the gunfire below continuing, the rapid bursts echoing through the house like a metronome counting down the seconds. Your men were holding the line, but you didn't know for how long. You just prayed they could hold out long enough to come to your aid.

"End of the road, ain't this?" Alicja sneered, her lips curling into a predatory grin, revealing her teeth in a way that was almost feral. Her eyes scanned you, and you could see the calculations running through her head. She wasn't underestimating you—not after all the times you'd tangled with her before. You were crippled, hobbled by your injuries, but she knew better than to mistake that for weakness.

For a moment, there was silence, broken only by the sounds of battle downstairs. Alicja's gaze never left yours, and you could feel the weight of her attention bearing down on you like a predator sizing up its prey. You gritted your teeth, tightening your grip on the quill, your chest throbbing with pain. You couldn't let her see that, couldn't give her even the slightest hint of vulnerability.

There was a minute shift in her posture as she raised her shotgun.

You lunged forward-

BANG

Ending: Consumed by Violence
"There are worse deaths than this, many have wished for a death in glorious battle. It doesn't matter now, for you will be lowered down, first in soul, then in body and lastly in memory."



Apologies for those who wished to see this continue, but the dice have been very poor and resulted in Michael's death. Death is not something easily cheated in CS so there will be no such option Because this portion of the quest is over, if you have questions go ahead and ask, big lore ones I likely won't answer until I've settled on what I want to run next but most other things are fair game.
 
Last edited:
A Glimpse Forwards, after Victory
A Glimpse Forwards, after Victory

You are Alicja. And you have won.

You have WON.

YOU. HAVE. WON.

You set out to kill this man, many many years ago. He had earned your enmity a thousand times over. He well-deserved your hate and your hunt.

You've spent years tracking him. Training for him. Thinking through every trick he might try, and countless ones he hadn't. You devoted your life to this quest, and it worked. It worked!

...

...And you are coming to realize you have not spent any one of those moments thinking what you would do next.



After the shotgun blast, it all felt like a blur. You checked his pulse -- you needed to be sure. You cleaned up what you could, and then ran. You're sure your assistants got you home safe, but you can't even remember your head hitting the pillow.

Now you're awake. You open your eyes and stare at the ceiling.

You've achieved your revenge. The quest you've dedicated what feels like your life to is finished. Ojciec and all the rest are avenged.

And life... just goes on? Plodding forward one second at a time? What do you do now?

What on earth do you do now?

Should you... go back home? The thought crosses your mind, but you shudder. The woman who showed up would be nothing like the girl they remember. Perhaps better to leave them with memories, which reality can never match.

Should you... find a job? You almost smile, thinking of what your resume would look like. And the look on some manager's face when you handed it over. Before he fled, screaming.

Suddenly, a thought crosses your mind. One of the whispers that had come your way, when you were doing your digging. That Michael was part of something. Something dark. Something strange. Something bigger than him.

You know he had help. You don't know its nature. You don't know its source. And most importantly -- you don't know when it started.

All those years ago... had it been more than just him? It would explain a few of his feats you could never quite believe.

And what was he working on now? What had let him to settle down here, allow himself to be found? What sick legacy did that sick man leave behind? God, was he --

Your stomach rumbling pauses your train of thought. You feel full of vigour again, the next steps of a path forward clear. The hunt is on, again.

(And thoughts of a normal life are back where they belong, buried in the deepest chasms of your mind.)

This would probably be a very different sort of quest, and I'm not sure how the mechanics would work out. But I'm thinking something like the detective background -- someone who gets into the occult because they're chasing down (or, in Alicja's case, has chased down) people involved in it.

I can't see her joining the cult, but I can see her starting her own one to oppose it? Even if she doesn't consider that what she's doing?

It'd lack the structure of an Advisor's council, so it might be too far afield, but it's a thought.

(And certainly she's left as a very interesting character!
 
Last edited:
Braiding the Threads: What Next?
Legacies

[] The Foe
"It's done, after all those years he's finally dead"
-You will play as Alicja, a person skilled in Martial and Intrigue with a knack for Edge and Forge.
-You are a violent criminal and have an investigation looking into you.
-You have no steady form of income, although you do have 8 actions to start with.
-Michael was involved with people, they may try and take their pound of flesh.

[] The Herald
"What have Ye done?"
You will play as Anatoly, a barkeep skilled in Stewardship and Piety with a knack for Winter.
-You are prone to dread, although have experience managing it.
-Your income heavily varies from turn to turn depending on how many actions you invest into your bar.
-You have been marked.

[] The Aspirant
"June 28th, again"
-You will be playing as a new character, starting from Backgrounds and Beginnings
-The broad lore and similar things will be kept the same, however things will change based on your choices. Such as the cult Master and location you start.
-Everything else will massively depend on what choices you make.



After some thoughts (and literally sleeping on it) I've decided to offer three options, the ones I think are the most interesting. The first is taking over Alicja right after she kills Michael. The second is taking over Anatoly shortly after Michael's death. The last being a completely new character as if Michael didn't happen.

This vote will likely be kept open for a few days so that everybody can give their opinions on what they want. If you have any question about the choices or are willing to suggest something go ahead!
 
Vote Closed
Braiding the Threads: Same Thread or New Thread?
So it the Aspirant very clearly won. The last question I have is whether I should start a new thread or just move everything to Apocrypha and continue here. I'm leaning towards the latter but would like to get people's opinion on the topic. This vote will likely only last 5-6 hours for me to get a general feel of what people think. (And to finish writing the first update of the new tale, but shhhh)

[] Start a new thread

[] Stay here, move things to another tab
 
Last edited:
Voting is open
Back
Top