Heimurn Chronicles (No, SV, you're a young valkyrie in the middle of a bizarre and dangerous journey)

Who is the bae? (Yes, we know that it's Lucy, but still - who's your favorite character)


  • Total voters
    101
Vote closed
Scheduled vote count started by Teloch on May 11, 2022 at 6:48 PM, finished with 15 posts and 7 votes.

  • [X] Study the location around the skirmish scene. (Reconnaissance skill roll, sneaking skill roll, mobility attribute roll, burglary skill roll, perception attribute roll, luck roll)
    -[X] Sephorah
    [X] Investigate the skirmish scene. (Perception attribute roll, Intelligence attribute roll, Wisdom attribute roll, melee skill roll, defense skill roll, balance skill roll, coordination attribute roll, luck roll)
    -[X] Ulren
    [X] Inspect bodies. [/B](normal willpower skill roll (20), perception attribute roll, Intelligence attribute roll, pharma and treatment skill roll, melee skill roll, luck roll)
    -[X] Karl
    -[X] Lucy
    [X] Investigate the skirmish scene. (Perception attribute roll, Intelligence attribute roll, Wisdom attribute roll, melee skill roll, defense skill roll, balance skill roll, coordination attribute roll, luck roll)
    -[X] Lucy
    -[X] Ulren
    [X] Inspect bodies. [/B](normal willpower skill roll (20), perception attribute roll, Intelligence attribute roll, pharma and treatment skill roll, melee skill roll, luck roll)
    -[X] Karl


Mkay, 'tis rollin' time...
Ata girl, Lu.

Now, time to calculate...

Ulren:
Perception attr.: 12+7=19 (normal)
Intellect attr.: 9+9=18 (normal)
Wisdom attr.: 1+13=14 (easy)
Melee skill: 20+17=37 (legendary)
Defense skill: 11+20=31 (very hard)
Balance skill: 14+6=20 (normal)
Coordination attr.: 17+10=27 (very hard)
Luck: 40>=39 (positive influence triggered)

Sephorah:
Reconnaissance skill: 16+8=24 (hard)
Sneaking skill: 14+15=29 (very hard)
Mobility attr.: 10+11=21 (hard)
Burglary skill: 7+10=17 (easy)
Perception attr.: 9+9=18 (normal)
Luck: 38>32>2 (no influence)

Karl:
Willpower skill: 16+11=27>20 (passed)
Perception attr.: 1+8=9 (elementary)
Intellect attr.: 8+15=23 (hard)
Pharma&treatment skill: 17+9=26 (hard)
Melee skill: 1+1=2 (total failure)
Luck: 38>34>2 (no influence)

Lucifina:
Willpower skill: 17+6=23>20 (passed)
Perception attr.: 12+6=18 (normal)
Intellect attr.: 18+12=30 (epic)
Pharma&treatment skill: 14+9=23 (normal)
Melee skill: 5+4=9 (nonsense)
Luck: 40>=37 (positive influence triggered)

Verdict: Ulren and Lucy would dig for clues pretty well. Karl would be of some help but not precisely radiating hyper competence (dude, what the heck are you staring at?). Sephie would dig out some peculiar clues, but not all of them. Overall: B to B+ tier team effort, which is pretty well. Some good clues would be found, but not their entirety. BTW, good character allocation! :D

@veekie in the very first threadmark post, I mentioned Lucy's species to have nearly paranormal luck, but bloody hell never did I imagine just how true it would be.

Fluff: AVG totals be like Ulren 23.71, Seph 21.80, Karl 17.40, Lucy 20.60
Teloch threw 7 20-faced dice. Reason: Ren(per-int-wis-mel-def-bal-co Total: 84
12 12 9 9 1 1 20 20 11 11 14 14 17 17
Teloch threw 1 40-faced dice. Reason: Ren luck Total: 40
40 40
Teloch threw 5 20-faced dice. Reason: Seph (rec-sne-mob-bur-per) Total: 56
16 16 14 14 10 10 7 7 9 9
Teloch threw 1 40-faced dice. Reason: Seph luck Total: 32
32 32
Teloch threw 5 20-faced dice. Reason: Karl (wil-per-int-p&t-mel) Total: 43
16 16 1 1 8 8 17 17 1 1
Teloch threw 1 40-faced dice. Reason: Karl luck Total: 34
34 34
Teloch threw 5 20-faced dice. Reason: Lucy (wil-per-int-p&t-mel) Total: 66
17 17 12 12 18 18 14 14 5 5
Teloch threw 1 40-faced dice. Reason: Lucy luck Total: 40
40 40
 
Last edited:
4.7.2 Bloom 17 of the year 1469. Dead men's tales
The outpost's innards met you with the same idyl that reigned outside: a newish makeshift doubled horse pens that stood empty, a solemn logs-made watchtower looming over the scene, and an older barrack hut with signs of recent repairs to its thatch roof. There were no apparent signs of any recent structural damage to buildings. The yard still hosted what one would describe as a minor habitual mess (a relatively new campfire spot, the degraded orderliness of a firewood stack, a few clothes & rags drying outside). One might've had a hard time assuming something horrible as mass murder happened in these walls if not for a single grim landmark: a body of a person lying face-down in the fresh grass between the barrack entrance and the fence gates. At some distance from it, an oversized black hound whined when staring at the body, accompanied by his similarly unnerved master. Two unfamiliar figures with pensive looks on their faces were combing the inner yard for more clues behind Krom and Elgar; the latter barely threw a short stare at you as an acknowledgment of your arrival.

"And here we are," Inga interrupted your brief surveillance, noticing your stare at the dead body, "Shall we proceed like the last time?"

"Like the last time?" Ren injected.

"Back in the haunted stead, we separated into groups to cover the ground more efficiently," You hurried to take the initiative. "Speaking of it, what is the scene's layout?" you switched to Inga.

The gvuroth lady inhaled some air as if steeling herself before answering, "Most of the skirmish happened in the barracks: Bilguun, Gazrog and Gosse lie there; you saw Tombaatar already, and there's also Ankhbar by the rear barrack entrance."

The names listed by Inga rang hollow to you as you never knew the victims, but the way she spoke of them suggested she was yet to accept the losses mentally. By no means were you an expert in anatomy like Isaac, but perhaps something would come out if you inspected the victims in the ways you can, along with some assistance to substitute for your shortcomings?

"Karl, would you mind if we proceed to inspect the victims?" you suggested, "We should've probably brought Isaac with us, but you might be the second most qualified person to do so in his absence."

"You overestimate my expertise in pathologic anatomy, but I'll try my best. If our guide allows it, of course." With that, Karl tilted slightly tilted his head towards Inga.

"For as long as it won't prevent us from giving the deceased fitting obsequies." Inga's rather cold reply was likely shaped by unfamiliarity with the term Karl shot out carelessly.

"We will comport the investigation with the most respect. I'll make sure of that," you injected, visibly giving Inga at least some ease of mind. "But what about the others?" you turned to address the rest of your group, "Something you feel closer to your fields of expertise?"

"I'll go into the hut and see the skirmish spot," Ulren replied, "Indoors slaughters always leave a lot of clues and narrow down the scenarios, meaning it might be easier to find something out about the culprit."

"Then I'll go and take a look around the outpost for infiltration points," Seph followed Ren's suit, "The way murderers got behind the defenses would likely shed light on their motives, traits, and behavior."

"Good, good..." Inga nodded to no one in particular, "Then I'll make those who didn't go searching for Bayar's whereabouts know of the plan, so we could coordinate proper." However, shortly after turning around and joining other hunters, she looked back at you, saying, "And, once again, thank you for doing this for us."

You wished there was a more jovial reason to exchange pleasantries. In response to the sincere gratitude of a dolorous and likely scared person, you only managed to give away a sad, acknowledging smile.
_________________________

In contrast to the inner yard, the barrack's interior was an absolute mess: table and tabourets turned over, caskets broken, a shelf with weapons slumped, blood and various items scattered all over the floor, and three dead bodies filling the air with putrid hints of decay. Midst all this mess, Ulren was inspecting the positioning of all the objects, dents, and cracks with the cautiousness and filigree one would not expect from a creature of his size.

"If you wish, I can do the... interfacing part," Karl offered while seeing your face becoming squeamish from realizing you'd have to at least turn the corpses to get a complete picture.

"No, that would not be necessary," you replied while steeling yourself. The experience wasn't looking pleasant by any margin, but if you deal with the spirits of the dead, what excuse do you have to be fastidious of their empty shells?

Cautiously, you turned around the body before you from its side to its back - the other two victims in the barrack were more or less assessable in their posthumous poses. The person you rolled around was a youngish male lander with an unkempt beard, hazel eyes, and the expression of abject terror frozen on their one warmly-toned face. This person in question was of above average size for a lander: not in height but rather in stockiness characteristic to indigenous freelanders. Their hand was stretched towards a handaxe lying at some distance - an indicator they might have belatedly tried to brace for a confrontation. As for their injuries - there was one single deep cut on their chest. For whatever wicked reason, your mind undug the recollection of the lethal wound you inflicted to a briarite combatant a while ago. With some effort, you shook off the delusion: neither it was the time to dig in regretful memories nor the trauma in front of you was anything like the bloody mess you did back then - it was singular and almost "clean."

"Karl, do you see anything of note?" You passed the initiative to your teammate, but the response did not follow.

"Karl, are you paying any..." you turned around only to see Norskov gazing at Ulren's machinations with a blank stare. This urged you to lightly pull the mage's collar before concluding your thought: "...any attention?" you said while tilting your head.

"Oh, sure," The mage responded in a way so dry you almost thought he was deliberately demonstrating his utter disinterest, "I was just theory-crafting. Do pardon my eccentrics, if you may." You pointed at the unfortunate soul's body with your eyes, saying nothing.

"Let's see..." Karl got closer to the cadaver, taking a few long moments to inspect it. "Freeland male of about twenty-eight to thirty-one years old, physically developed. The signs of decay, such as skin pattern and coloration, suggest that death came within the last fourteen hours - right before midnight. The likely cause of death is rupture of the internal organs with severe internal and external loss of blood. Whoever stuck this hapless pal down knew well enough how to aim for the heart."

Involuntarily, you squinted from imagining sustaining an injury of such graveness, and, somewhere in the back of your mind, the notion of soon getting your own armor set became even sweeter. But something felt odd with the body in front of you regardless: you sensed minor sediments of a voidling with your supernatural perceptions. When you took a closer look, you revealed tiny dark noduled on the injured flesh.

"Karl, there's something unordinary with his wound: do you see those tiny black clusters? They give off minor entropic vibes."

"Oh? Good eyes you have there," Karl commented and leaned over the dead man with an easily-readable intent.

"Karl! What are you doing?! Didn't you hear what I just said?"

Regardless of your protest, the man was dead set on sampling the substance with his bare hands. And as he did so, it was not the feeling of disgust that rattled you and nearly provoked you to null-blast the arcane aspects in the building, but his blatant disregard of your efforts curing him of the void contamination. While the troublemaker squished and rolled the coal-black clusters of an unknown substance on his fingers, you took a moment to assess its paranormal capacities. To your relief, this residue substance was far too impotent to carry demonic contamination.

You would not call yourself a short-tempered person, but the spontaneous recollection of that poor child's soul you had to vivisect suddenly filled you with anger. So, you slowly, carefully, but insistently tugged Karl by the sleeve of his overcoat and spoke in a quiet if icy tone: "When I mentioned your affliction being cured not without sacrifices, I did not mean only my time and efforts. In light of this, wouldn't you find it most unbecoming should you go through the same predicament twice?"

Caught by surprise by your sudden change of demeanor, Karl's face maintained a confused look for a couple of seconds, after which he slowly grinned in a manner suggesting that only now - in all the day - his genuine interest was picked. "But of course, I'll exercise cautiousness to avoid such a disgrace," he said while his grin turned into a smug smirk, "but you see - this is regular ash. No more and no less." You glimpsed at the index finger of the troublemaker, and indeed: inside the black coating of chunks, there was a friable texture of your ordinary gray ash. Then, even though your worst suspicions did not prove true, you raised your eyes to glare at the mage. You could tell he knew you were mad at him, but instigating a quarrel was the least appropriate thing given the situation at hand, so you released his sleeve with a restive motion.

"It makes little sense: how exactly it would get into the wound?"

"Your guess is as good as mine~," Karl replied nonchalantly, "Although, doubt it to be the case of homicide with a fireplace poker as a tool: locals might not even know about such appliances."

"The tool's most certainly a scimitar of another curved blade design," Ren's sudden input stole your and Karl's attention (and most likely prevented a minor squabble).

"Uhm... Ren? What are you doing?" You inquired, mildly puzzled by the scene of a seizable armor-clad bhiroth playing pretends with invisible weapons and attempting what appeared to be stances and motions replication with his own frame.

"Reconstructing the event from victims' perspective," Ren outlined dryly.

"Did... did you get any leads aside from the assailant's assumed weapon?"

"Aye. The positioning of victims and markings on the interior suggests this was less of a fight and more of a surprise slaughter. Also, there are some odd clues on the murderer's constitution."
Peculiarly, Ren said this over continuing his experiments, "I'd tell more after confirming something, so don't mind me."

"Well, I'll be damned: roths are capable of applied acting in contrast to the beliefs of associates of mine. Should we call for our madam Desert Rose to shatter her worldview once again?"

"I say we should make ourselves useful lest we want to become a laughing stock for thers."

"Aw. Why do you have to shoot down my wits like this? The Lucifina I knew wasn't so opposed to the concept of fun."

Back at Narvic, you got a whiff of Karl's incredible topographic cretinism, but now you also witnessed his outstanding tone deafness. Instead of falling into the man's trap to prolong the banter or imagining how much of a paint he used to be in his youth, you shook your head disapprovingly and proceeded with the investigation.
________________________

The two other bodies in the barracks were men: a young freelander and an alvizian. The body of the more youthful freelander chap partially dangled from one of the two two-storied beds: it seemed like he was asleep when the commotion took place, with the killing puncture strike cutting short his attempt to lift from the bed and react appropriately. The alvizian lad, in his last moments, seemed to be engaging with the awake lander in some sort of a table game; he was forcefully pressed against the wall and then pierced into vital organs.

Not to lose any essential details others would not be able to reach, you enacted your supernatural senses. But alas, the objects you decided to scan for peculiar engraved memories did not contain anything relevant: the assault was so fast that the victims' shock and fear did not have the time to imprint upon the last items they interacted with. Yet, while spiritology did not yield any clues, the thaumaturgic assessment of the barracks revealed a voidling trace of increased concentration than it was outside the outpost.

Following the trail, you and Karl returned to the yard where you saw the first body. The departed was also a freelander approaching their middle age, with a short but dense beard, brown eyes, and the expression of terror frozen upon death. Unlike the rest of the garrison, this person's killing blow came in from behind, piercing through the back and exiting through the abdomen. If your capability of reading poses, combining clues, and modeling events were worth its salt, you could tell that this one was trying to flee the barrack in futility while their comrades were slaughtered in quick succession. Moreover, the voidling's trace intensity felt the highest around this particular body as if a demon's conceptual obsession flared up in their presence.

Even though the amassed clues began to form a pattern, you and Karl proceeded to review the last reported victim. The body belonged to yet another freelander male of, according to Karl, middle to late twenties. Typically black-haired for a freelander and with gray eyes, there were several noticeable differences between him and the rest of the victims: he was clad in leather armor and carried a short spear, his pose indicated a lack of any struggle, and unlike the rest, his death came not from slashing or thrusting injuries but from upper spine disruption. You and Karl quickly concluded that this man was carrying a watch shift while his comrades recuperated before the attacker snuck in and quietly broke his neck.

As sound as this theory appeared, it raised some questions: where exactly was the missing hunter at the time of the assault, whether or not they witnessed it, and how exactly they disappeared. But for now, without any way to fill in the gaps in the sequence of events, it was time to resort to your more magical abilities. Scanning the victim's belonging did not bring any valuable intel, but you've noticed something else during the attempts.

"Inga, you there?" You yelled into the yard while counting the number of soul spark readings in the proximity.

"Yes," Inga's voice came back from behind the barracks, "did something happen?"

"No, just want to know how many other hunters are with you in the yard!"

"Myself, and then three more. The rest are away seeking the missing. Why, though?"

"Trying not to mix traces," you replied (and technically truthfully more so), "Thank you!"

If only you did not have something more urgent at hand, you might have imagined how Inga shrugged at you. Yet, her answer caused you to diligently revise the readings you were getting from others' souls: Karl nearby, Ren moving from the barrack, Inga with a scatter of three unfamiliars at the opposite side of the yard, Sephie moving closer along the fence... and one more in the watchtower. Instinctively, you trained your eyes at the building, deciphering the unfamiliar spark from a distance, and your sneaky suspicion got its confirmation - the "alien" soul had no vitality shell. Moreover, the pattern of its fluctuations coincided with the tracery of memory imprints on the short spear you've just assayed.

"Karl, it seems we might have an extra witness," you retrained your sapphire eyes at the mage, pretending not to observe your antics with interest.

"Is that so?" he feigned surprise, "How come no one recovered them yet?"

You pointed down at the body for a moment. "He hasn't moved on, it seems. Maybe, he doesn't even fully realize what transpired."

"Is it time to share the findings?" Sephie's voice ringing from the yard drew your attention away from the latest lead. "If everyone's ready," Ren's voice sounded meditative, "speaking of..."

You did not wait to hear what he inquired of, turning back to Karl: "We will have to postpone attempts to question the victim until getting more context from others and sharing our clues," you addressed Karl, "With more pieces uncovered by others, we'd have a better idea of what to question the spirit about, don't you agree?"

"Haven't even considered debating it, Lucifina." For some reason, you found his compliance insincere. Although, it might've been you still adjusting to the recent changes in his style of conduct.
________________________

"There's a rough trail of footprints by the outer northern side of the fence. At first, I thought it might belong to your folks, but if stalking under the palisade with an evident aim to find a comfy scaling point isn't weird enough, doing so barefoot is even stranger. As an extra, our stalker spent some time circling and pining for a fitting moment to dive in, leaving a lot of prints. And about them diving: they must be quite an acrobat to not leave any markings on the palisade or deeper jump point footprints by the outer side." Busy revealing her observations, Sephie fiddled with the pommel of a sheathed knife. "When I followed the second set of prints, the patchy trail led to North-West from the outpost until it cut off. Seems like the culprit headed towards Tevon or its surroundings." With that, she leaned at the wall of the barrack, tilted her head, and threw a smug look at Ulren, saying: "And how's your haul? Any luck, perhaps?"

Ren, being himself, hasn't even noticed the subtle "challenge" gesture (or just outright ignored it), answering: "In fact - yes. Plenty of findings." He raised his hand and pointed towards the back entrance to the barrack. "The attacker was likely alone and, just as the daeva just said, knew what they were doing. They haven't raised any alarm with the approach and rushed through the rear entrance at full arms. Three awake people inside were caught by surprise and had barely any time to react. The first one - the bearded freelander lad sitting at the table and playing caravans with the alvizian was sliced first. Then, the oldest lander decided to run while the alvizian reached for his weapon. Considering the position of the table where hunters had the game, the attacker rammed the alvizian, staggering him against the wall and piercing up his guts."

Growing increasingly articulative with his hands, Ren pantomimed the direction of strikes made, after which he turned towards the barrack again and pointed at its midsection and main entrance, "by the time alvizian was taken out, the oldest of the group was at the main door, and the youngest lad in the garrison must have woken up to commotion." Saying that, Ulren frowned as if imagining something particularly unsettling: "The attacker noticed the previously-sleeping chap's reaction and decided to take no chances, making a three-quarter stance recovery turn followed by an aimed pierce over the shoulder," he shook his head at that, "perhaps, the kid might've survived should he remain idle. But anyway, after taking out the youngest guardsman, judging by the blood drops on the floor, the attacker employed the low guard stance and charged after the fled survivor. The chase was short: the fleeing man likely stumbled on their run towards the main gates and was ran through by the attacker's weapon."

After reconstructing the events, Ren turned toward the rest of the assembly and crossed his massive hands on the chest. "The whole encounter did not last even for a minute: there were only two charges by the murderer before no one was left alive. And here's the most interesting part: the nature of cuts and markings left suggests that the used weapon was some variation of a curved blade."

You noticed pairs of eyes staring at Ulren questioningly. You are not an expert in weaponry (and even not an amateur enthusiast), but did Ren say something so out of the ordinary?

"Aye, that's right: over two elbows in length, curved backward from the working side, and even mildly jagged in at least one section. The pushing force of the wielder was abnormal: easily twice more potent than an average lander's punch while their frame proportions and swinging arcs were lower than that of roths. But the weirdest part - the stance recovery from the first charge I mentioned would've been impossible with the conventional saber or scimitar. To pull that off, they either had some exotic two-bladed sword with the handle near the length center, which they simply turned, or an equally outlandish grip with palms positioned above the guard."

With nothing else to add, Ulren shrugged vaguely. "Hah? If even half of what you said proves correct, then that's pretty impressive expertise," Sephie complimented unironically for once.

"If that gets proved correct," Ren low-key objected, "The image of the attacker and their used weapon aren't something you'd likely encounter in this part of the world."

"It is because they aren't from this world, technically speaking," You picked up the metaphorical torch of the conversation, drawing everyone's confused stares at you.

"The attack occurred around midnight - the "hunting time" of demons, devils, and other voidlings or ethereals. Aside from the unusually high concentration of chaotic aethers in this area, a distinguishable trail of corruption passes through this outpost, falling one-in-one with the discussed route of the killer. Moreso, the void residue gets denser inside the barrack and reaches its peak near the last victim's body, suggesting that the entity's prime driver was its elimination. This may explain how other victims were killed and one missing person: the bounding concept of this particular voidling brought them here to cut short one life in particular, while others just happened to be in its way."

The more you spoke, the more confused Inga grew. "This might be an explanation for the uncanny acrobatic feats and alien choice of weaponry of this creature. If nothing else, it coincides with our observations and experiences from the assault at one of your night patrols in Tevon: the beast was unnaturally fast and delivered grievous cutting injuries to its victims before the latter could even defend themselves."

You took a tiny pause to let others digest your hardly-believable findings, after which you continued: "Peculiarly, we've also found another detail that should not have been there under more "normal" circumstances: small clusters of ash in victims' wounds. The entity's murder tool was covered in soot and ash as the character of impairments did not suggest they were made with searing-hot weapons that would've chalked victims' flesh. And, as you might imagine, there are absolutely zero reasons for a murderer to deliberately infest victims' wounds with burning sediments."

"So that's what those spots on the floor were..." Ulren murmured, to which you weakly nodded in confirmation.

"So..." Inga visibly struggled to pick the right words, "What you are saying is this slaughter was committed by an uncatchable, chalked abomination the like of which we encountered below that hexed mansion, which is bent on purposefully culling down our higher ranks using a savage blade?"

You could only shrug at her with your shoulders, saying: "I would not have believed this myself; shouldn't my friends and I have encountered multiple voidlings in the past, that is."

For a few moments, Inga's face changed a couple of times, with one of the shifts suggesting something clicked in her mind. Something battered through her mind's walls of disbelief and maybe even more. "I see..." she finally muttered with a weak sigh, "If not for that raid of ours and testimonies of Elgar, Loїс, and Altan, I would've never believed this. But whatever picks us out gives not a flying shag about such trivialities." Pensively, she looked away from you to a side. "There is still some time before we prepare the victims for their last rites and return to the longhouse, so if there's something more you can or want to examine, now is the time."

Even though she wasn't looking at you, a tiny nod indicated your willingness to cooperate further.

_______________________________

Phase 2 out of 3
Assign characters to the tasks. One character can only investigate one zone during one phase. Each character will make rolls mentioned in the tasks. The higher the scores, the more & better clues would be discovered. If more than one character is assigned to a single site, the highest score will be considered, with a chance of getting additional bonuses.
Each character has unique expertise and talents, which may yield extra clues.
More options might open in later phases, depending on the progress made.


[] Investigate the skirmish scene again. (Perception attribute roll, Intelligence attribute roll, Wisdom attribute roll, melee skill roll, defense skill roll, balance skill roll, coordination attribute roll, luck roll)
-[] Lucy
-[] Ulren
-[] Sephorah
-[] Karl

[] Study the location around the skirmish scene once more.
(Reconnaissance skill roll, sneaking skill roll, mobility attribute roll, burglary skill roll, perception attribute roll, luck roll)
-[] Lucy
-[] Ulren
-[] Sephorah
-[] Karl

[] Inspect bodies for the second time.
(normal willpower skill roll (20), perception attribute roll, Intelligence attribute roll, pharma and treatment skill roll, melee skill roll, luck roll)
-[] Lucy
-[] Ulren
-[] Sephorah
-[] Karl

[] Help seeking for the missing person.
(Reconnaissance skill roll, geography lore skill roll, huntsmanship skill roll, nature skill roll, perception attribute roll, luck roll)
-[] Lucy
-[] Ulren
-[] Sephorah
-[] Karl

[] Try communicating with the remnant spirit in the watchtower
(Exclusive to Lucifina)
-[] Lucy

[] Talk to someone regarding the series of murders.
(Hard CHA check (20) OR Hard persuasion check (24), Luck roll)
-[] talk to Inga
--[] Lucy
---[] Disclose the leads on the murderer
---[] Do not disclose the leads on the murderer
--[] Ulren
--[] Sephorah
--[] Karl
-[] talk to Loїс
--[] Lucy
---[] Disclose the leads on the murderer
---[] Do not disclose the leads on the murderer
--[] Ulren
--[] Sephorah
--[] Karl
-[] talk to Elgar
--[] Lucy
---[] Disclose the leads on the murderer
---[] Do not disclose the leads on the murderer
--[] Ulren
--[] Sephorah
--[] Karl

[] Talk to someone regarding the victims' identities.
(Easy CHA check (13) OR Easy persuasion check (17), Luck roll)
-[] talk to Inga
--[] Lucy
---[] Disclose the leads on the murderer
---[] Do not disclose the leads on the murderer
--[] Ulren
--[] Sephorah
--[] Karl
-[] talk to Loїс
--[] Lucy
---[] Disclose the leads on the murderer
---[] Do not disclose the leads on the murderer
--[] Ulren
--[] Sephorah
--[] Karl
-[] talk to Elgar
--[] Lucy
---[] Disclose the leads on the murderer
---[] Do not disclose the leads on the murderer
--[] Ulren
--[] Sephorah
--[] Karl
 
Body aspect
Fragment of conversation with Karl Norskov on Bloom 17 of the year 1469

You wish me to tell you about the body arcane aspect? Not that I'm annoyed or anything, but haven't we had a talk about thaumaturgy yesterday, and don't you have Leofric Vaughan's tome with you? Of all the Lyf academics, your patroness used to hold him in high regard, about which she rarely forgot to remind me... Oh, so you'd like an opinion of someone directly associated with the higher arcana practitioner's circles, the workings of the metaphorical kitchen, so to say. I'd give you this, Lucifina: your proficiency with flattery is becoming dangerous. But, well, consider me bought for this one.

So... With your levels of interest and involvement in the arcane spirit aspect, you are undoubtedly knowledgeable about how it is perhaps the most heatedly debated topic in the arcanists', philosophers, and scholars' circles. But, if you would ever need to find an example of people's double standards and the desire to win social points by following the herd, go no further than the debates around ethics of the spirit aspect manipulations and the blatant absence of such in regards to the body one. Why blatant, you ask? You see: the spirit and body arcane aspects are considered "siblings" in most archetypical models that list life belt magic, while mind and emotions are - for the better phrase - their "cousins." That being said, while the spirit aspect operates the very core of all beings, the body facet encompasses the mantle into which this core is nested. It would be a folly to suggest that our frames, through which we not only operate but form, are less important than our souls. And yet, whether it is halls of the Lyf academia or a soiree of the major arcana practitioners, the odds are you would hear about the somatic magic only in the context of someone getting rid of a pesky migraine with its help lately.

The most popular reasons for this are the ordinary carelessness of people about their health until it gets degraded and the disinclination of audiences to dig below the conventionally-accepted beliefs or thoughts more than required. So, if we roll with the latter reason, an average person who knows at least bare minimum about theurgy would say something like, "the body arcane aspect is a branch of magic which belongs to the life belt division, works through the law of empathy just like its siblings, and focuses on manipulating the innate lifeforce of entities involved." If the said person is not just an amateur but a curious one, they would likely mention a whim of the "Vitae as a bodily substance" theory and list several ways a healer could manipulate it through transfusion or circulation tampering. As cute as it would've been of them, they would barely scratch what the body aspect truly is.

You see, somatic magic is the most scholastic branch of the aspects tree, boasting the highest possible synergy between the distilled knowledge of the subject and possibilities offered by arcane methodology. On this immense foundation, multiple schools and sects of healers and body sculptors were formed. Most of them are of the Alvizian origins, like corpus chorists, who learn to attune to the "tones" of a body and, through parsing it reveal all of its secrets, starting from its general vigor, weak & strong points, and the harmony of the entrails. Or the leechers school, who have chosen blood as their primary medium of operation. By sampling it, they could not just describe the status and processes within organisms but also relay a lot about their lineages' traits, the backlog of phylogenesis, and even the imagery of their possible offsprings; no wonder they are famous in Alvizian kingdoms. Even these savage lands we are now forced to navigate through have their own school of healers: the fleshweavers. As you can imagine from the name, it has a whole lot to do with bones and tissues. Perhaps, I'll pass on the further detalization, if you don't mind.

Due to the persistency and universality of the empathic principle among all the life belt aspects, it's no surprise that the most physically developed mages would have an easier time reaching the immense depths of this domain. But, perhaps the most rawly endowed with the arcane body aspect proficiency are the gvuroths. As you might have guessed, gvuroths are the physically mightiest among everyone recorded with the somatic bound. Their potency in manipulating vitae, modifying the principal architecture of any flesh, and the firmness of control over the corporeal processes are simply unparalleled. While scarce in numbers, gvurothean grandmasters of the bodily magic are said to be able to restore living beings' lost limbs in close semblance to gvuroth's natural gift but without the protracted agony tied to it. Fixing the hereditary flaws of the flesh is also considered to be within their competencies. And I'm not even touching on all the stories of the miraculous restorations from the brink of death or even back from its antechamber.

Suffice to say, even without ever reaching the absolute peak of the somatic domain attunement and after losing some of it due to age, Claudius is still one of the - if not the most qualified flesh sculptor in the Lyf kingdom. However, as a life belt practitioner, you must be more than aware that the life belt domains are just tools in people's arsenal, which bestows the choice and responsibility for how to use them. The shocking stories of malicious body aspect mages committing heinous traumas, hideous amalgams, or creating mockeries of life are not exactly unheard of, but let's not dwell on it for now, shall we? After all, my rant is to educate you a little and not fill your imagination with even more morbid imagery.

Ahh... I told you that the body arcane aspect is way more profound than it appears on the surface. What? Are you, by any chance, think there's a story behind my enthusiasm about it? Well, you wouldn't be entirely wrong: they say that a pasture is always greener on the other side, so as an elemental belt mage, I am drawn towards the fruit I'll never savor. Or, perhaps, I knew someone engulfed in it a long time ago, subconsciously having a soft spot for everything they associated with... And maybe they would've held the same sentiment if only I was a better friend... or even just a better person...
 
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The art conversion experiment
Longshot - Voidlings :p
Inevitable Anime School au? or Jory being happy and having found his balls?

Alright, folks. As you might have seen in this story, as a writer, I pushed characters through some pretty unpleasant situations to push the story and their development forth. Sometimes, I even feel bad for not letting them have something good for once, but this time, I might have gone even further beyond for nothing more than scientific curiosity.



And this is my partner in this weebinization travesty experiment :rofl:
 
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4.7.3 Bloom 17 of the year 1469. Transcendence and confessions
Just when you began to dig your memory for the monikers with which you presented themselves to Kherees, a male voice called out for Inga on turanese. Assuming that freelanders' native language employed the same intonational logic, you could only presume that kherees informed Inga of some complications that may require her attention. Ultimately, with an air of annoyance, she excused herself from your followers' circle, letting you collectively plan out the next step in relative peace.

"You all did well," you began, "what we've gathered here stacks well with the tidbits of clues from before. But while we're here, it may be prudent to jump on the chance to dig for more. Ren, you did really great at the skirmish spot," to your praise, Ulren shrugged indifferently, "Do you, perhaps, have ideas if there's more information to unearth from around, or would you rather like to help the kherees with what they are doing?"

"With everything said and done, doubt there's much left to gather from the place, so I might as well lend my eyes to the recovery party and search for the missing sod even though I'm not that good of a scout."

"Please do," you smiled at him encouragingly, chiseling out from Ren about as vague shoulder shrug as the one before it. "With the degree of our entanglement with this case, we might seek to harvest some testimonies from their side too," you began to relay your stream of thoughts once again, "Given how much they rely on us, this probably wouldn't be that difficult. Yet we might want to be considerate when approaching, lest, given what we already know, we want to close off some venues."

"Oh! This Inga girl appears to have a finger in every local pie, making her a safe bet," Sephie sprung to activity once you mentioned possible skulduggery, "besides, I feel like she has eyes for our bhiroth, meaning her lips might be just a bit looser ~." Needless to say that the soonest Sephorah mentioned her idea, she was rewarded with Ulren's deadpan stare of such coldness that might've made trees shed their leaves.

"Uh... There is no debate about her being a potentially valuable informant, but I was thinking about Elgar instead: he did approach us with a plea which I had to turn down for more urgent matters. Can you and, perhaps, Karl have a chat with him? Even though his issue might not be connected with the one at our hands, it might provide more context or lead toward other clues."

"Oh goodness, you're certainly not sending us to save yourself the embarrassment of having to talk with a potentially aggrieved young man. No?"

"Not at all, Karl," Now it was your turn to try on an icy expression, "If only you were more attentive, you might've recalled that there is a special witness in need of interviewing. The type of witness only I among everyone gathered here can communicate, with it being at the top of my list of concerns to attend." Just when the mage opened his mouth, you raised an index finger at him in a "cease" gesture, following up with: "And please, refrain from exercising your witticism against the poor pal - he did not look like in a state for cynism intake even before witnessing five of his clansmen murdered".

"Don't worry, Sparkling! Should the dandy-o start acting dumb with his tongue, I'll pinch the stupid out of it."

"Ah, the exotic southerly idioms, how quaint," Karl commented Sephie's surge of helpfulness, drawing the latter's stare.

"You were, of course, joking, right?" Sephorah remained silent and weakly grinning, but you could tell "mess around and find out" was written on her face.

"That settles it," you had to cut the banter short for time's sake and out of fear of Inga getting mentally traumatized by witnessing the specifics of your in-group dynamics, "let's get to it."

_______________________

Following the signature of a disembodied soul spark, you approached the log-lined watchtower, cautiously opening the improvised door and staring into the darkness of its innards. Yet, it wasn't the dimness of the interior that startled you but the unnatural chillness - one of the giveaways of a possible haunting, which you memorized from visiting Bartholomew at the locked observatory of Dalgaard's mansion. Recalling that bizarre encounter gave you a token of confidence as neither it would be the first time you interact with spirits, nor did you expect them to be hostile in the given circumstances. And so, you slinked through the doorway gap.

Remembering the effects of thaumaturgic light (or just any natural-ish light) in Limbus and wary of the risk of scaring the spirit, you glimpsed into the nether realm right off the doorstep. Peculiarly, the scant interior of the watchtower looked like nothing like what you expected from Limbus: no spectral shapes, only a few insignificant memory traces blooming with dim light from a bow rake and a cup standing on top of a barrel, and darkness making through the cracks in the walls, resembling pitch-black smog smoking its way inside only to dissipate. The outsides must have been dark as the void itself at the moment, which probably was the main reason behind the poor soul secluding itself in this tiny bubble of stability and relative security. As fresh of an experience it was to glimpse into a nether realm during the daytime, your internal voice reminded you of the reason why you came here, with you cautiously proceeding upwards the staircase.

It was in the midsection of the rower - arguably the darkest part of it - where you saw him: the dimly-glowing, yellow-green shape of a man whose body was now lying outside the back entrance of the barracks; same size, same features, and even the same outfit. The specter of the militiaman hasn't noticed you initially, sitting on the floor of the tower's midsection and leaning against the wall with hands clutching to the head. It was clear the man was in distress, confusion, or both. He did not seem to register your presence.

Cautiously and slowly, you began approaching the lad's specter, with but a little hope saying "Hello?" and hearing only the audial distortion; after all, you weren't physically in Limbus. But when you were three steps away from the figure, something made him turn his face towards you. Half a heartbeat after, the lad's phantom eyes widened in alert, and just a second later, he suddenly threw his frame towards you, trying to grab your hands. Instinctively, you squealed in momentary shock, your wings tried to unfold under the restraining leather wrapping (possibly damaging its integrity), and your figure recoiled from the ghost in an attempt to sidestep it. Although, it wasn't necessary: the wraith's limbs went through you like smoke dispersing against an obstacle. Recovering from the motion, the lad turned back to steal a glimpse of you, unable to hide the emerging panic and confusion.

For the next three minutes or so, you observed the scene of a person acknowledging the dramatic shift in their existential status raving and convulsing in helpless panic. Anguish, terror, denial, and confusion reflexed through the wild motions. Perhaps you even felt sympathetic: the scene commencing before your eyes was unsettlingly similar to your own first reaction after awakening in this world, which made you wish to find at least some encouragement to pacify this poor soul. Alas, the situation didn't seem to permit it, so you calmly sat at the next set of stairs, observing the gradual deceleration of the dead man's motions.

Ultimately, the victim's visage fell near a corner, slowly lifting its torso from the floor to lean against the wall and give you a stare full of despondence. This look paralyzed you for a moment, but you managed to carefully pick thoughts and words to transmit to the poor soul.

Despite imagining winding up in a precisely similar situation before, you still felt hesitant to initiate the exchange with the departed. You took an additional moment to assess your "interlocutor" and think of how to proceed. Peculiarly, the ghost looked almost realistic visually: aside from the greenish glow color, the shape carried no distortions, no fog or dispersion effects, and generally reminded of a person being submerged in crystal-clear water. Perhaps, this exemplary state of a disembodied spirit was caused by its "youngness" and relatively high integrity of the soul spark cognitive layers. You scanned the interlocutor for traces of demonic contamination, but there were none. Hence, recalling other reasons and factors that could cause a soul to stay in the world, you mentally concluded that the poor fellow failed to migrate either due to the confusion upon their death or because of some other circumstances weighing them down.

You are Ankhbar, right? You finally made a move by recalling the names listed by Inga and weaving a signal for the deceased witness. The reaction came in immediately: the spirit's eyes widened, and he tried to speak back to you. Alas, all that you heard was but an indistinguishable, distorted murmur.

I am looking at the netherworld from the realm of the living and can't hear you. Was your follow-up which only rattled the spirit more as he visually tried to yell with the same result; you could see a rare mixture of hope and desperation in their unliving eyes. Yet, you've got a sudden idea of how to overcome the metaphysical inconvenience: If you can speak new pherinian, I can try to read lips should you go slowly.

A couple of seconds after your latest signal reached the target spirit, you registered a tiny nod from the latter, after which he sat on their knees so you could see his face clearly, and then deliberately spell out their message. Mimicking their motions for convenience's sake, you ended up with the inquiry of "What is happening and who are you?" on your lips.

It took you a few moments to weave together an answer, not because of the message's content but due to how hard it would be for the recipient. Having to potentially crush their hope felt terrible, but you had to tell the hard truth and curb any further damage. I am Lucifina. Inga asked my friends and me to conduct an investigation at this outpost after a mass murder took place. She invited me here because of my ability to draw information from the netherworld. Obeying some inner urge, you paused to look the spirit in the eyes. This is where you are now. Alas, you are one of the five confirmed victims. Your body is still lying outside, at the same place where a demonic entity snuck up on you and broke your neck last night.

As soon as you weaved a message for the spirit, his eyes again ignited with despair-induced wildness. But, unlike the first bout, it appeared subdued to a minor degree; maybe, this Ankhbar lad might have held suspicions about his state. Still, the reaction was sharp, and the specter fell on the knees before you, incessantly repeating one phrase as if it was some sort of a mad chant: "Can you bring me back?".

Back when you began to view the spiritology talent as something that might put you in all sorts of situations and company, you knew there would likely be a day when you would have to announce some unfortunate spirit what you were about to. Yet, when this moment came, you found it difficult to follow through and crush the last desperate hope of a person who lost their most valuable of all possessions. Alas, you had to do it despite the hesitation. I can't. And there isn't much of a chance for it to be possible.

You half-expected a new bout of angry thrashing from the spirit, but their reaction to you robbing them of the last but false hope was the opposite: he sagged back in the corner, bent the knees, aiming them to the ceiling, and wrapped the ghostly hands around them. Evidently, your message snuffed out the last ember of their resolve like winter winds tear away trees' last withered leaves.

Meanwhile, you suppressed the urge to bury the spirit under the questions regarding the incident with quite some effort: the state of the poor lad wasn't auspicious regarding coherently relaying the intel bits or even possessing such in the first place. Hence, unwilling to drop this lead just yet for various reasons, you opted to take it easy and work on the "bridgeway" for the next move. This resulted in you quietly taking a seat on the dusty floor of the tower near the spirit, folding legs bent in knees in front of you and leaning against the wall. You felt like a quiet presence would be the most appropriate approach to someone who, until minutes ago, could not reflex on their new existential status or even share a fraction of their fear and confusion with anyone.

One, two, five minutes have passed with the spirit making nary a twitch and you patiently contemplating your next move over the otherwordly humming of the daytime Limbus. After all, you had a certain degree of responsibility due to possessing knowledge about the principles of the Netherworld the poor soul had to gather on their own with associated risks. So, when you felt like the innermost turmoil of your subject subsided from its peak, you initiated a new round of exchange.

This place is made of memories, ideas, and spirits. It has its own logic, laws, and dangers. You are here because something within you holds you from passing into what lies beyond. I can't bring you back to life, but I can assist you in unraveling your burden, so you can be free.

The freshly-disbodied spirit slowly turned his head toward you, granting an inquiring or estimating gaze. And then, after you almost considered he silently rejected your offer, the crestfallen lad barely spoke something. You asked him to repeat it, and from what you read, he said "I failed."

Tell me. You directed a thought to a rueful spirit and sat closer to him, inviting whatever it considered sharing. And Ankhbar indeed jumped on a chance. At first, shyly and slowly, he began to list how kherees were always his family and how he never even got to know his real parents, how he had risen in the group's longhouse. You weren't expecting him to make such a detour from the "Failure" part, but neither you were surprised, given the circumstances.

And Ankhbar continued, getting lost in his recollections, picking up the pace and making it harder for you to read his lips. But from what you managed to capture, he mentioned how thrilled and nervous he was during the initiation trials when he came up of age, how he harbored his first awkward juvenile love for Inga before growing over it, and he was happy to face many-o hardships with what he saw as a big family. His big family.

For a moment in which you lost the pace of parsing, you felt like the man sitting against you specifically aimed to share his most valuable memories. To hand them over to someone else like treasured artifacts through which his now-finished life gained its meaning. This thought settled deep in your mind, yet you had to push it back when your "interlocutor" lowered the pace, likely shifting the focus of his testimonial.

And undoubtedly he did: after a short pause, he began to speak of the state of affairs of Kherees in the latest years. Apparently, times were even harder than usual due to multiple factors nearly bringing about a cascade failure. With the surge of hostile wildlife, anomalies, banditry, and tensions between the poles of power in Blugd-Tur, sustaining neutral Tevon-Talab became excruciatingly hard, causing a growing spat within the hunter's society. One camp demanded to break the unwritten law of kherees neutrality and to seek help from either Nyth-Rhathon, Baator, Ertanghal, or even from the Olfadir theocracy while the rest feared such a step would hollow the essence of the centuries-old organization, which would be even worse than to be destroyed by numerous hardships.

Unresolved, the spat grew into a bitter rivalry within the kherees, which only came to a halt when one of the "outreach" camp's leading ideologues disappeared without a trace, another one died on a hunt, and two more forsaken the society with some of their protegees. Sustaining a massive blow in numbers, hunters had to downscale the operations range and barely went through the last winter without throwing Tevon into chaos or famine. Eventually, in the first days of this year's Hearthwind, the hunters could almost feel hope for recovery in the following year, with Ankhbar considering taking a protege to make up for the leavers and losses. But then the wave of rabies came about, followed by swathes of refugees. Then, someone began to hunt the remaining kherees. And there you had it in front of yourself: a poor soul that was forcefully torn from everything that filled its existence with meaning, now aching like an open wound.

The experience of having a dead man's shrift perplexed you. Not only was it emotionally hard to look at your atypical interlocutor's predicament from the prism of your own experiences and circumstances, but there was also the rising tension of responsibility regarding you having to give this situation closure. From your previous experiences and studies, you realized that leaving the spirit haunting the place would entail the risks of him getting corrupt by the chaotic aethers, especially with the burden of confusion and negativity you witnessed. But, perhaps, unilaterally banishing them didn't sit well with you either. It was when you steeled yourself before diving for the verdict when a distraction came from outside the visible range - distorted yet familiar noises reached your ears from beyond the wooden shell of the tower; Apparently, it was Sephie and Karl trying to call out for you from the realm of the living.

After a momentary distraction and a glimpse of clarity that followed it, you forced out a decision to act upon once you attend to your friends and get back to Ankhbar.

You decided to:
[] Leave the spirit alone.
[] Forcefully banish the ghost.
[] Try convincing him to let go of his now-finished life and help to the other side.
[] Let the deceased decide his fate himself
[] Bind the spirit to an item and take it with you.
____________________

Rubbing the post-limbus-observation itch from your eyes, you left the watchtower for the overworld's sunshine and your friends; no matter how many times you had to glimpse into the fade, the adverse effects remained the same. By the wooden walls of the building you just left, Sephie and Karl were waiting for you, with the prior leaning against the wall with the leg bent in the knee, feet planted on the wall, and arms crossed on the chest, while the mage was casually fuming with, most likely, the remnants of his stashed smoking herbs.

"By Ashara's onyx boudoirs, what took you so long?!" Sephorah hardly suppressed her annoyance, "I called for you like thrice!"

"I had to slip into the Limbus to investigate one of the... uh... victims. And more than that, our interaction was hampered by their inability to communicate like older spirits."

"Have you, perchance, resort to charades?" Karl mumbled while fuming like a kettle with boiling water.

"Why, I would have never thought you fancy such collective activities, Norskov," you retorted the mage with a false nonchalant tone, "Amalia would be so thrilled to hear of your willingness to entertain our group with this game in exchange for dinners."

Your jab pulled a metaphorical carpet from under Karl as he burst into a short series of spasms and coughs. "My word, was it Rosaline who taught of such ruthlessness, young lady?" He said.

"Was... Was he of any trouble?" for now, you ignored Karl and retrained the focus of your attention to grinning Sephie, who tried her hardest not to laugh out loud.

"Surprisingly, no. I'd say even more: he was nicer to this Elgar lad than to any of us under normal circumstances. Perhaps, he got carried away by playing a detective."

"So, you did find out something curious, have you?"

"In fact, we did. The murders began in early Hearthwind - coincidentally, about the same time when the Gaian storm rocked the skies, and the rabies epidemic rattled the local fauna. Even though Elgar did not emphasize it in any way or, perhaps, even register as a clue, from his testimony, all the assault cases resulted in casualties among more senior militiamen. The geographic coverage of these assaults appears to be considerably wide - from the remote outposts like this one to the very heart of the Tevon town, so this demonic murderer we're dealing with likely knows of the territory and targets."

For a moment, Karl fell quiet, cleaning the insides of his smoking pipe. "Do you believe there can be politically-motivated demons?" He commented in a half-joking manner.

"We've encountered a zealot demon that kept kidnapping locals for some wicked sacrificial rites, so demons with a political agenda don't sound that outlandish to me anymore. And even less so after the spirit of Ankhbar - the victim who was slain the first and now lying by the barrack's back entrance - articulated to me there were and maybe still are internal fractures within kherees ranks. Perhaps, the existential motive of the voidling falls in line with the dents in kherees integrity, hence why such a specific choice of victims."

Your hypothesis slowly but surely wiped off Karl's smirk; it's possible he found your theory too realistic for comfort. Meanwhile, you paid attention to the lack of inputs from Sephorah, which was uncommon in itself. You looked at her only to witness her carrying a perplexed face and quietly staring into nothingness.

"Are you fine, Sephie?" You inquired out of courtesy, if nothing else, "you look a bit too puzzled to me."

"Maybe it's nothing..." Seph turned her face towards you, snapping out of her semi-trance-like state, "but Elgar's body language and signals were strange. As much as I wanted to believe that roths are capable of exaggeration, Inga did not fool us when she brought up Elgar's stressed behavior of late. When we talked to him, the lad acted... constrained, unable, or unwilling to open up. It felt like he tried to ask us more questions than we inquired of him. Not like he was intentionally trying to hide something from us but rather suppressing something both personal and hurtful to him. Also, it felt like he was frustrated about having to talk to us specifically." Sephie shook her head sideways, "Or maybe I'm just overthinking things."

"Can I talk to him and see if I get the same vibes?"

"Unfortunately not at the moment: Inga sent him out with the third searching party. Our bhiroth hasn't returned either, so we're here with the gvuroth lass and just two more scared militiamen. Speaking of it, Inga would like to have a word with you and is likely to get the finalized input on this whole mess, from what I can tell."

"Sure. I'll have a word with her while we're waiting for Ren's return," you answered.

Karl decided to play a deaf log, Sephie gave you a nod, and now you had to plan what to tell (or withhold) from the person who has led you here. But do you know on which side of the kherees divide Inga is on? And how much are you willing to trust her?

Disclose (can select multiple or at least one)
[] Finalized reconstruction of the event
[] List of the possible motives behind the recent manslaughters
[] Pattern of the attacks
[] Your experience of communicating with Ankhbar
[] Your acknowledgment of kherees internal issues
[] Rene's lead on the murderer's identity
[] Something else? (write-in)

Ask about (can select up to three or none. Difficulty grade decreases by one tier for each pair of disclosures)
[] Overall situation around Tevon-Talab with recent noticeable events
[] More details on Elgar's state of mind (Normal CHA check)
[] Places where can you find Elgar (Hard CHA check)
[] Issues Kheree hunters are facing (Hard CHA check)
[] Details on the internal conflict of Kherees (Very hard CHA check)
[] Her to become your informant and contact person within Kheree hunters (Epic CHA check)
[] Something else? (write-in)


Contrary to the straightforwardness of the situation, you had some concerns still. Those concerns were caused not by the doubt in one's judgment or reasoning but rather by the narrowness of the outlook from only your perspective. Feeling that whatever you would inform Inga of would have an impact on the image of not just yourself but the entirety of your group, you drew the attention of your present companions with a little hand gesture before inquiring.

"What do you think we should, and more importantly, shouldn't tell her?"

Sephie was the first to answer, the expression on her face about as perplexed as yours. "You may already know what I think on the matter: we should not flash all the cards so they won't have a reason to garner suspicion of us spying on them. It might be worthwhile to "warm up" this Inga girl to the point she would be inclined to act as our informant of sorts, but should you tell her too much beyond today's case, the balance within kherees might change along with the light in which they see us. Such changes in conditions are seldomly beneficial to solving problems..."

"For a lady of your archetype, that's an uncharacteristic degree of precautiousness," Karl squinted unamused while searching for any remaining smoking herbs in his pockets.

"Aww! I'm so sorry for failing to meet your heroic novels-inspired expectations. I should sleep without a pillow today as I would definitely soak in my bitter tears." Sephie stung back, tauntingly emphasizing the "definitely" word.

"I'd say go and bury her under all the findings," Karl decided to demonstratively ignore Seph's jab. "Isn't this why she brought us here in the first place, no? If the covers we'd blow would send them down to an internal discord spiral, that's their problem, not ours. We have little if any skin in this game. They won't put public blame for these murders on us because we are their key asset for stopping them. Moreover: should they get too preoccupied with themselves, it may or may not give us a breather from their attention, which I see as a little but still benefit."

You raised a brow at yet another piece of evidence of Karl's recent trip down memory lane not passing without consequences.
 
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Vote closed
Scheduled vote count started by Teloch on Aug 1, 2022 at 6:11 PM, finished with 13 posts and 7 votes.
 
A word from the prodigal QM (yes, I'm alive!)
Hello folks

I know it's been a while since the last time I posted anything: IRL pressed me pretty damn hard. Basically, I moved countries, became a de-facto (but not in a paycheck) head data analyst of a company with three territorial branches, got buried under various work-related projects (four of which are still pending), burnt out, underwent months-long bureaucratic masochism tango with institutions of two countries, mentored a junior, and am about to move again; this time across the ocean and probably for good. But hey - I had to see Ireland, Denmark, and a bit of the UK...

That being said, I haven't forgotten either about you or the stories; working mostly with the notes, back-end & media stuff of the setting wherein I've got time to do so. Speaking of, here's a bribe bonus for your patience!



Yes - weebs got to our dear Lucy, and she's been Final Fantasy'd. At least, she looks happy :3 The side story's protag illustration is also in the making (albeit a very slow one).

Anyway, I'm sitting at 9k words of the next update, and can't wait to finish the bloody thing asap to get back to you all, hopefully, this weekend. Really - I miss ya all, folks. Here's hoping the new pastures would allow me to return to this setting with more available time AND way higher budget for better and more frequent media content and whatnot.

So, for now, take care, stay safe, and I'll see you soon.
 
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