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

[Teloch]

When you were put back on your feet, you still felt light dizziness caused by the previous impact against the bridgeway cobblestones. The world swam slightly before your eyes, and the surrounding turmoil added more paces to your vertigo. However, you managed to take a look at your fiend before he descended on the moat's ice, followed by the ragtag bunch of survivors. Maybe it was only your imagination or the post-traumatic implications, but you can swear that something ticked in your head when you saw Ulren freezing still momentarily and toning down his breathing before assuming the offensive stance with the low centre of weight and headed forth over the icy surface. There was something you hadn't noticed about his motions before - the exotic mix of the heavy-armoured agility and the indestructible balance. You braced yourself as well and followed.

The dark-skinned woman (whom you nicknamed as "Dusky" in your mind) was the second one to descend on ice with the different from Ulren's kind of grace - with flighty grace and perfectly controlled - almost choreographic - motions. They ventured forth, leading you and other survivors across the ice that separated city districts and the living husks hiding in the sewer outlets, to the saving shore which you saw from the bridge. You were half a kilometre away from the relative safety of (yet) unravaged suburbian districts and the woodlands stretching North. The sounds of the battle and fires echoed from both city districts. The church bell tolled its distressful tune. The ice beneath you cracked at some points, indicating that the danger was still here - to the sides and below you. Even though risky, you still felt it is the safest route, wishing only to be more gracious following your friend on the slippery ice and confident about fending off the leper-looking humanoids.

At first, they fled the treadway of Dusky and Kyres, either because of the fear or due to the careful calculation to lunge at the group once it will venture way too far from the quay and thus the swift retreat. When the bunch you were a part of passed like one hundred meters and it turned out to be the latter. The lepers began to group up in packs from three to five, striding on in a way one would expect from wolves, but not haggard and sick people. Unwilling to try their chances in the frontal assault, they were circling your group, hunting for those weaker and lagging. This slowed down the retreat, as now you had not only to struggle to remain on your feet but also to be prepared to respond to creatures provocations that could have developed into attacks.

The number of lepers was rising - sickly silhouettes of men and women alike, sometimes wrapped in black and grey rags and sometimes covered with nothing but their shedding fragments of skin - all carrying the seal of the shared sickness, they were swarming out from the sewers, alcoves, and all the hollows leading to the quay. After you passed below the second bridge, the swarm of your chasers enlarged enough for them to convert their numbers into boldness, attempting first coordinated attacks. That was where Ulren locked his stance and began to deliver blows with his mace and bashes with his shield. The spawns' attempt to bog him down via sheer quantity failed since Kyres' proficiency in close-in fighting combined with his massive frame and complex mace ensured that almost every his strike resulted in a creature being blown out of its earthly misery or, in some cases, added severe skeleton fractures and even limbs loss. Unlike vanguarding Ulren, who was scattering the foul fiends in the head of the group, Dusky assumed a position in the rear of the formation, locking you, the youngster, the girl with her mother, and the 'conditioned' lass in improvised "safety gripe", intercepting the predators from the opposite direction.

Despite the efforts of the dark-skinned damsel, who was cutting fiends open and even running them through in what seemed as an intricate blade dance, painting the ice with the foul orange-red blood, a couple of human-predators managed to slip past the combatants, bogging you down in melee. As if the concussion and the impassible surface were not enough of a slowing factor, once you had to refer to stabbing and jabbing, your own and thus the group's speed almost came to a halt. After another series of your violent but chaotic strikes at the creature that was a human no more, you could only shriek in angriness and wish to have the forged fire poker that you previously as your weapon against these creatures, since it looked like all of the city ghouls were now hunting for you. But even under this desperate pressure, the group combatants retained their readiness to counter, advancing slowly but stubbornly, like a siege ram pullers under heavy archers fire.

When you were about to fall in despair under the continuous pressure, the event that changed the whole dynamics of this crisis occurred: the city church's bell tower that stood near the moat and which hasn't ceased to ring its tocsin since the very beginning of the siege, finally succumbed to the fires and damage, partially collapsing on the ice where your group fended off ghouls a couple of minutes ago and breaking the icy surface with the sound of an ancient dragon's shattering spine. Those ghouls who avoided being squashed or drowned, scattered as fast as a hoard of mice fleeing an arsonized building. The reason for why they did so came too late to the redhead girl's mother, as the cracks grew in once solid ice and swallowed the woman. Scared as you were, you attempted to make a move to secure your balance, but to no avail - the same fate caught you.

With your lower body dipped into the piercing-cold water and holding the top one above the tide only with the help of your wings spread on a reflex, you the vicious chill bit you like no predator ever would, numbing your limbs as well as thoughts. In this numbed by hysteria and overwhelming cold state, your memory and perceptions grew partial. You remember screaming and crying in choir with the red-haired girl, Dusky dragging her protesting away from the tide where her mother sank, the despair and abandonment of seeing the young man with the pregnant girl running away from the group and leaving you behind, Ulren tearing off the cloak from Dusky and tying the spare head of his mace to one of its ends, you grabbing to the improvised tow with all of your remaining strengths and using the shield slid to you as a sled. In addition to the deceitful 'phantom' heat that struck you after being dragged out from the water, you felt the heat of shame... the instinctive joy of being rescued mixed with the feeling of guilt for being such a burden to Ulren. After he wrapped you in Dusky's rain cloak, the senses and perceptions began to return to you, registering that, except Kyres wrapping you up and Dusky watching him from some distance with the gaze you could not interpret at the moment, the rest of the thinned group bolted towards the shore. The chill was still painful and paralyzing, but you had to move, and so, with the support of your friend, you did.

With the lack of the ghouls, you were moving faster than before. However, you were now facing the more dangerous adversary - the frost. After climbing the shore and walking some distance through the snow, your legs were feeling like they became a pair of oversized pillows to thousands of searing needles. Shuddering, you were almost carried by your companions to the trail left by the young runaways - they were ahead, running to the closest woods in hopes to disappear between its dark, lifeless trunks. The young lad was ahead, holding the little redhead by the hand. The pregnant girl lagged behind them, finding it difficult to chase after the kids in her state but still fleeing despite the exhaustion for the sake of her own and her unborn child.

Then, suddenly, the bold pierced her ribcage, slumping her sideways to the snow with the force of impact. To the left, there was a smallish group of soldiers with two out of three armed with crossbows and with one armoured hound chasing the running and screaming kids. This group was relatively lightly armed - camisoles and ranged weapons, suggesting the scout role of the unit. You were no fast enough to outrun the soldiers after all. Yet, there was still a tactical opportunity to avoid the engagement available at the price of the kids' lives capitalized on as a distraction for soldiers.

[] Flee now!
The kids are doomed. Even if they do manage to elapse the chasers, they will not survive the night in the forest.

[] Intercept the scouts before they reach the kids with:
-[] Lucifina
-[] Ulren
-[] Dusky
Sum of the combat rolls of participants (melee / half-melee and half-ranged / half-melee and half-objects usage) against 28 composite check, individual defence rolls of participants against very easy (14) defence skill check, luck rolls of participants.
This is the right thing to do. Besides, the scouts have gear and clothes.

[] Attack the scouts while they deal with the children with:
-[] Lucifina
-[] Ulren
-[] Dusky
Sum of the combat rolls of participants (melee / half-melee and half-ranged / half-melee and half-objects usage) against 22 composite check, individual defence rolls of participants against trivial (11) defence skill check, luck rolls of participants.
The scouts have the resources needed for your group's survival. And the surprise factor seems to be on your side. For a price of others lives that is.

Spoiler: Note on this voting

The more people you throw into the fray - the better odds the party has to succeed but also the more party members will be exposed to risks of injury. Chose wisely.

Spoiler: A little trivia from QM, which contradicts the tone of this story so far.

I wish you - my awesome readers - happy holidays. Let your dreams and goals come to life in the year to come.

 

[Teloch]

The lad and the redhead girl ran using the last strengths of their young frames, daring not to look at what happened to their most recent fellow in misfortune, and screaming like the terrified and crocked game they were to the soldiers and their hound. For a moment, when the dog was already closing in for the final leap, it seemed that their fate was sealed. But, the stride of the beast was utterly interrupted by a precise crossbow bolt, which dug into its spine and nailed the canine down. The two adolescent runaways shrieked for the last time before disappearing midsts the dark woods, either frightened or relieved by the turn of events.

This turn, however, was not that favourable towards the scouts, who turned their collective attention to the approaching party. Ulren lowered his shield while expecting incoming fire from the archers and began to unwind his flail's head in preparation for strikes. Dusky used your bulky friend, who was bulldozing through the snow, as living cover, assuming the stance for a lunge on the go. As for you... maybe you felt furious at the soldiers who have brought havoc to the city and ire to its dwellers, or, perhaps, you felt the dire need to 'repay' them for the life they took on your very eyes with the same coin. The sense of the "common touch" could also have been one of the reasons that caused you to ignore your foul physical condition and to join your accidental teammates in their assault against the now-evened foes.

Everything happened within thirty seconds or so, but for you, they stretched like minutes. Predictably, Ulren caught a bolt with his heather shield, but the second bolt swirled centimetres away from your core - striking through the lower end of your left wing and plucking a couple of feathers. That didn't stop you, though. Both of the scouts went on a reload and their half-plated footman companion stepped forward with his shield readied for collision and sword prepared for riposte. Unfortunately for the footman, that didn't help much, as Kyres executed an ascending strike from under his shield during the unexpectable turn, shaking the armoured adversary out of his poise, struck him with the upper edge of the heather shield in the helmet, and finished his initial series with two wide circular swings. This charge caused all three of the hostiles to separate from their formation, which resulted in Dusky picking one of the archers as her target and leaving the second one to you.

With the development of this clash, Ulren was the first one to emerge victorious: after his target made a couple of attempts to perform precise counters while keeping the distance, Kyres redirected the blade of footman's sword with the bottom rib of his shield to the ground, instigating the low clench, performed a pretty dirty head-on bunt on the footman's helmet, disorienting the target, and then finished him off by landing a mighty side-winded strike on his head. The impact was powerful enough to clump footman's head within its helmet and to send it flying off from the shoulders at about three meters distance. Brutal and efficient.

Dusky's style was different. As her target unsheathed his sword to fight in melee, she engaged in the exchange of lunges, pierces, and parries, adapting to the style of her foe and seeking for breaches. Thier blades met each other for about nine times before the horned woman dived under the faulty lunge of her opponent, rearing her target, cut his knee tendons, causing him to fall on his knees, and then piercing him through from the back, casually booting off the body from her blade after.

Your case, however, was the first time you faced not a dumb beast or an apparition, but aware, trained, and definitely experienced foe. Underequipped and untrained, you used the initiative advantage provided by your friend's initial charge, aiming for unarmored patches of your adversary. Alas, your dagger sunk in the camisole, slid across the chainmail coif, and left a couple of scratches and nasty stabs near your target's neck. More infuriated than suppressed, the archer struck you with the crossbow stirrup before taking his sword. Then, the initiative changed drastically, leaving you in the state of full defence. Unable to parry with the dagger that certainly wasn't suited for such tasks, you had to resort exclusively to your nimbleness and dodging. Your foe, clearly registering that you bit more than you can chew, increased the offence, performing two-staged combinations, trick recoveries, and fake lunges. Your proficiency in self-defence was put to its limit as you grew to realize your mistake.

Luckily for you, before the new series of strikes, the archer that you were fighting grappled to an object - a dagger - that suddenly stuck in his throat. In about two seconds, he was flanked by Ulren, who grappled your foe by his head, delivered a knee punch in his guts, and snapped his neck with the second loudest crackling you heard in your short life. A part of you was glad - you did it and at least two persons from the group that fled with you might see another day, but the other part was burning with shame. Like a living burden, you were rescued by the others. Again.

Disheartened by this whole event and not feeling like looking your friend in the eyes, you turned away to take a look around. There - near the woods - the body of the never-to-be mother was lying face down in the snow. With only one, faint, feeble, and doomed spark left in its womb. Four meters closer to the woods, there was a short bloodied trail on disrupted snow, leading to the hound exercising its last agonic convulsions. Around you, were three bodies of varying levels of mutilation. Behind you, was the city full of smoke, death, and broken fates. This scene and the whole day made you feel sick. Literally. With the heaviness rising in your stomach and numbness emerging around it. That doesn't feel right. Absent-mindedly, you brushed your abdomen without lowering the gaze, sensing the novel to you feeling of cutting pain raising through the numbness. You lifted your hand and witnessed it stained with hot, fresh blood. Your blood.

Confusion and fear washed over you after witnessing what was your very first real injury, spanning from the bottom centre of your abdomen to right top. The wound was not very deep but it partially cut muscles in the mentioned area, sending slowly-growing pain impulses when you tried to turn around or to walk. The adrenaline was fading from your blood, giving way to pain. Both of your companions saw the change on your face, and as soon as they figured out what happened (which took but a moment), Ulren barked at Dusky in commanding tone. With the cold and hastily methodology, he looted two of the bodies, literally shaking them out from the upper clothes, footwear, belts and bags. After that, he uncorked the looted leather spout bag, making sure by the smell that the contents stands for its suitability for providing the first aid in field conditions. In a moment, he let you sip some of the liquid in the bag (which tasted like a fiery water and felt like a direct impact of a brick against your face), tear off a relatively clean piece from 'your' dress, working it through with the rest of the 'burning' liquid and administering your wound. After he applied and fixated this improvised bandage, you also found yourself in a duster scavenged from one of the soldiers, dressed in the blood-stained camisole, and rebooted in the pair of footwear of the same origins and quite a nasty stench. A gross move by your friend, but likely a life-saving one.

After that, while verbally exchanging with Dusky, your guide approached the dead hound to dismantle it's still warm carcase on a few lesser hunks, filling the surroundings with even more disturbing sounds of thorning flesh and breaking bones. He motioned Dusky to harvest the cloth matter lying around and the bits of the hound, which she did, albeit with the discontentedly-surprised facial expression. Your friendly pseudo-giant paid no attention to the new companion's discontent and picked you up on his hands (again) and began to move towards the woods, followed by the horned lady carrying to two sacks. Together, and arguably in one piece, your group began its march further North, hastily leaving the ravaged city with all of its dangers behind.

Your state wasn't that good even before you engaged the fray, but now it was even worse: encroaching, paralyzing pain in your core mixed with symptoms of the concussion such as loss of focus and periodical waves of nausea. At least you were warmed and in the relative safety of your friend's shoulders - the friend, whose motives for helping you (if that's how you call "rescuing from certain death repeatedly") were oblivious but surely not unwelcome. Peeking over his shoulder, you aimed your gaze at the woman following both of you. She and Ulren were conversing, and, judging by the tonality used, they were either having an argument or just found their company unpleasant. Do they know each other? You can't say... same as you can't discern anything from their talk.

Having no better sources of information regarding the new follower, you had to address the recollection of today's morning and her behaviour in crisis situations. First of all, she seems to be a decent person, opting to help others when it was possible. Except for the case on the bridge, when she situationally seemed prone to leave Ulren behind. Although, when the push came to shove, they seemingly figured out a way to coordinate despite possible enmity and clear difference. Thinking of such, you were wondering about her background and her prominent traits, such as heightened mobility and graciousness. Is it something shared in her race or something she developed personally? Fanning the curiosity about the races inhabiting this realm, you predictably came to the question of your own belonging. Are there any other like you? If yes, then why haven't you seen a single one of them? And why people acted so confused when they saw your wings? The new questions were piling with each day, contributing to frustration caused by your ignorance and insatiable curiosity.

Once again, you peeked at the one whom you titled as "Dusky". Despite your emotions being predominately (WRITE IN) at that moment, you came with the first impression on her. With everything considered, she evoked (WRITE IN) in you. After you noticed that to yourself, something odd happened: her eyes caught your stare and something tickled in your brain. Your aspects senses were either telling you something or, perhaps, malfunctioning. Alas, you were too tired to figure it out. After made exhausted something akin a faint yawn, slightly shifting in your friend's hands and falling into the state of post-traumatic slumber, emerging and falling back into it periodically.

Later that day, when the darkness was already on its way, covering the land, Ulren put you back on your feet. As strong as he were, the events of the week and especially this morning exhausted him. Supported by the shoulder, you had to brave the way with your arms around the wound, restraining the now-present burning pain. Dusky followed you both with the brooding face and no words spoken. The resulted silence felt oppressing in a way. It was the kind of silence when people have had what to say but found it more appealing to remain silent. This vibe of distrust between Dusky and Kyres failed to elude you. The lack of emotional contact in the group was compensated by the foul, howling wind, and yet again emerging snowfall.

Fortunately, you arrived at what seemed the next route in your journey before the realm was swallowed by the darkness and foul weather completely. What appeared to your gaze was a half-ruined rocky structure, devoid of any decorative architecture elements adorning the buildings seen in the city. The complex consisted of the main facility with one satellite tower, surrounded by the sporadic fragments of what seemed to be the wall around half a century ago, and showing absolutely no signs of being inhabited like burning torches or cleared pathways. The shape of these building was even worse than your state of health, but it was still the only available option for the group to call a night in a relative peace and likely sheltered.

Spoiler

In a couple of hours, most of which your teammates spent searching for flammable materials to start a campfire, you occupied a hall in the gate tower of the main structure. The fort proved deserted, as expected, although, your senses were behaving oddly, not letting you to relax for no clear reason. With the signs of strong fatigue on his unhelmeted face, Ulren was roasting the bits of the hound that almost shred the surviving kids from the town in the morning pierced on the salvaged longsword. Dusky was sitting against him, her hands folded on her chest and back leaning against the wall. Her glance wandered from you to Ulren to nowhere in particular and backwards. The silence, disrupted only by the howl of the strong wind outside, was still pressing, and your wound was giving you no sense of rest. But for the good part, you survived what many failed to, was now sitting near the sheltered campfire, and in the company of people who won't likely harm you in any way.

The source of your disturbance was the persistent sense of a presence in the lower levels of the fortress. You could not pinpoint its direct location like it happened to the hidden ice wights you encountered on your way to the city, and you sensed no soul sparks. This presence was unreadable to you, and it seemed scattered, engrained into the rocks. Also, it appeared inactive, drowsing in a troubled slumber. Suspicious, you recalled that magic cancellation trick that you've learned, since it may turn extremely usefull in case if this presence is of the same nature as the ice fiends.

Well, in light of all the circumstances, you may do something with the time on your hands.
________________________________________

6 TIME POINTS

[] Screw it! Fall asleep.
For better or worse, skips the camping options immediately
You've been through a lot today. You just want to doze off.

[] Explore the lower levels of the fortress -4 p
-[] With Ulren As tired as he is, he won't let you go anywhere without him, and you know it.
-[] With Dusky
-[] Without Dusky
The highest perception roll of all the participants against very easy perception check (11), luck roll of each participant, the higher difficulty rank beaten (with or without +1 success tier from successful luck roll) the more rewarding the search will be.
You don't feel it would be entirely safe, but your group is currently underequipped and has to sleep on the bare stones. Unless you recover more resources from this ruin, spending nights in the wilds might turn very unhealthy.

[] Asking Ulren for some training -3p
You're not in the right physical condition to train, and your friend looks like someone who could benefit from a good nap.

[] Train your wings -2p
Nope. It hurts.

[] Self-study the thaumaturgy aspect -4p
Normal intelligence attribute check (15), easy arcane skill check (17), your luck roll; +1 is warrantied, additional +1 is granted if both rolls are successful or one failed roll is compensated with the luck; non-repeatable.
Strangely, this melancholic atmosphere inspires contemplations.

[] Self-study the spirit aspect -4p
Normal intelligence attribute check (15), easy arcane skill check (17), your luck roll; +1 is warrantied, additional +1 is granted if both rolls are successful or one failed roll is compensated with the luck; non-repeatable.
Maybe, if you try harder, you could figure out what's hiding in the basement of this fort?

[] Communicate/interact on the matter of (write-in) with -2p
-[] with Ulren
-[] with Dusky
-[] with both
Easy Intelligence attribute check (12), easy Wisdom attribute check (12), The action itself and each successful roll decreases the - wisdom ignorance debuff by 1/3 point if the topic of the question is correctly picked; repeatable; if picked "both", you have to pass normal (15) charisma test (only once, in case if repeated)
Your curiousity and desire to socialize gonna eat you alive soon.

[] Inspect (write-in) -1p
Pick to gain more insight on whatever object (or subject) within your reach, no benefits past the detailed information, repeatable.
There is a lot of new things around, you feel the itch to study them.

[] Write-in
You have better idea what to do

___________________________________

Bonus material voting!

[] About someone very confused sitting by the fire in the abandoned fort
[] About someone very excited in the army camp
[] Jesus, QM! Just lead us out from the wilds already!

 

[Teloch]

The lost sense of reality is what you are feeling now. There is a space beyond what people describe as "total confusion", and that is where you are after surviving through the events that you almost taken for your impending doom. You feared and then suspected the dying Beilford or its surroundings to become your grave, chased by the mercenaries all this way North to the land where you have no place to hide and even fewer odds to lie down at the bottom somewhere in the wilds. You found yourself between the anvil of unknown terrain, depleted funds and supplies, hostile towards your race nations, and the hammer of the mercenaries that were sent to capture you and an entire brigade of Olfadir military. But still, you live and breathe.

Ever since you had to withdraw from your one-woman-crusade against the human-stock dealers and the nobility patronizing them, the traffickers and the corrupt law enforcers turning the blind eye on their doings, against the entire Eastern Kingdoms and Gvuroth backstreet system of enforced labour that broke so many lives including yours, you knew that it will be the end of you. They say that "whoever embarks on a journey of revenge, should dig per a grave for oneself and for their enemy". In your case, you'd have to dig a little cemetery for your enemies, because for the time being, you were very efficient. You used direct assassination onfalls against your less wary marks and addressed to more elegant means from charms and social set-ups to burglary and poisoning of more inaccessible individuals. You were resourceful to the degree when the commoners offended by a local lord who raped their vives by the "first night" right, or a guard captain who was indistinguishable from a highwayman (and in one case was a 'former' brigand) and who expropriated their estate, had given you the nickname "Martlet", for your dark skin combined with the elegance of your methods applied on their offenders that also happened to be your marks.

Alas, reputation is the two-sided blade, and if it occasionally proved useful when having to interact with the common folk, it also presumed that you are now the prime target of the vast system you combatted. It was only the matter of time when the network would alert all the guards and militia in the region, and send mercenaries and cutthroats to take you down. And that how it was. About a dozen hired blades chased you towards the northern coast of Pheotor, to the crumbling kingdom of Lasir, cornered by the nations that treat your kind with contempt, by the northern sea, and by the lands startled by the advance of Olfadir, and thus suspicious of any strangers trespassing their borders.

You slightly shift your sore, stretched legs, and watch the hulking figure roasting the remains of the scouting party's war hound. From the years since you left your Eucadian homeland in search of better life, you had to learn about the races inhabiting Pheotor. One of these observations was the assumption that if a Roth is up to something, he or she won't back down 'till the job is done. This particular one confirmed this idea by following you where the others feared - right into the grasp of Olfadir forces. But then, something that you struggled to find an explanation for happened: the one who was hired to take you down and nearly captured you three weeks ago fled the city with you, caring not about the pursuit that led him here but about leading the winged girl and some of the civilians away from harm. Not an attitude one would expect from his type.

And this girl. You have never seen any winged humanoid races neither heard of such even in the most delirious babbles of occasional commonfolk boozers. She tried to help the group of fleeing citizens, attempted to assist you and your inadvertent companion in the struggle for kids lives. Speaking of, you have never heard her speak a thing, but the Bhiroth was treating her as if his well-being hinges on this fragile creature. Who is she and why of all the sudden the man whom you thought of as your enemy behaves as if he has never had this contract on your head? Is it her influence or is there something else? Where did she come from and what does this man want to do with her? Is he one of the slavers or just a random thug who just dropped his contract for whatever subjective reasons? Too many questions.

You shift your gaze from the girl, who looked like someone deciding what to do for the evening, to the fire. This morning, after the struggle with the scouts and verbal exchange with the mercenary, it became clear that you need him for guidance (because of his awareness of the terrain) and he needs you for survival during the march (because of the spare pair of hands and eyes) towards the Lyf kingdom and, hopefully, never to see each other again after.
To validate or discard your suspicions, you used a trick many Daeva are capable of - scanned his and her emotional layouts, fixating no traces of bluff or malice; he was resolute about getting through the situation and dismissive towards you, while she was dejected by all that she had to endure today and tangibly wary. Not of him - of you. This exercise raised even more questions than provided answers, and that pissed you off all the day long.

Today, you fell from heights, fought infantry and ghouls, run from cavalry and covered from arrows, lept through fires and slid on thin ice. Your body aches and your stomach rebels but that is not as irritating as the overwhelming feeling of unawareness. The only but substantial solace is the fact that you still live. And that is what matters the most.

The night turned out to be silent, with the sounds of meat and fat roasting and winds howling outside fusing into a comfy ambience. No one is speaking, which is not surprising considering the lack of trust and mutual interest between you and the guide that led you to this abandoned shelter. The girl, however, after swiping the hall with her studying gaze, aims her two sapphire eyes at you. It makes you feel slightly uneasy. Then, she stands up, filling the hall with the rustling sound of her feathers, and approaches you a couple of steps closer, with one hand wrapped around her wounded belly and the second one bend in the elbow upwards, with the inner side of the palm facing you. It seems like she wants to ask you something...

 

[Teloch]

Finally being able to have some rest and quiet for the first time after the day that may or may not remain as your worst one, you assessed the situation and pinpointed the concerning elements of it: even though survived the grandiose violence earlier, you sustained an injury, unaware and unadapted to this world you were following others towards the unknown destination, with a new person joining the group - the person that doesn't seem to like Ulren much (if at all). You looked at her again while she was staring at the fire with the face of someone who was having hard times embracing the situation. Maybe she was hurt or tired or doesn't feel too well for other reasons or, perhaps, banally saddened. Regardless, you weren't going just to stare at her as your inner voice suggested that it might be a good idea to break this tense silence by figuring out if everyone is alright. Even though your capability to make things better is limited, showing your concern for others won't make things any worse, right?

With this motivation, you slowly stood up, recalling your gestures from the very first encounter to not send Dusky a wrong message about your intents. You captured her attention with the motion and the rustle of your feathers. However, before the interaction began, you felt a careful but firm grip holding you by the edge of the left wing. Apparently, someone big and grumpy made his thoughts on you interacting with the newcomer known. That didn't stop you, though, as you swiftly - almost subconsciously - came up with the decision of how to turn this situation around and to use the older companion as a not-very-suspecting intermediator in your interaction with the newcomer.

After putting a sly smile, you shook the wing that was held by Ulren and waggishly clapped his hand with the edge feathers. This move of yours expectably confused the man, allowing you to capture his attention by slightly raising your hand and opening mouth, pretending that you were thinking of what to "say" him from the very beginning. After holding a theatrical pause, you gestured at your improvised bandages, wrapped around the wound, and pointed at him. The question was clear and simple, on which he simply shook his head and then pressed one's clenched hands on the cheek, and pointed at the floor. He's uninjured but mightily tired. Not handing back the conversational initiative, you (scenically) looked at Dusky (who was studying this spectacle somewhat amazed), and then repeated the "inquiring" gesture while pointing at her and looking at Ulren. He recognized what you wanted and spoke to the newcomer. In return, after a momentary pause, she began to weave gestures to you, showing that she is tired and sustained a couple of strikes and bruises but overall is more or less fine. You smiled back faintly. Ironically, the state of those you were concerned with was much better than your own.

Not willing to let the atmosphere recede to its previous state, you pointed at your first companion and spoke to Dusky in your unconfident manner by syllables: "Ul-ren", on which the burly man grimaced grumpily. Not reacting to his antisocial antics, you pointed at yourself and spoke again in the same bungling manner: "Lu-ci-fi...-na!". Then, with the wide grin, you looked at the horned woman, making it clear that you expect her to self-introduce as well. She hesitated for a couple of moments, weighing if it sits well with her, and then replied, mimicking your manner of speech for your convenience with her smooth, voice: "Se-pho-rah".

Having the contact with her established, you just wanted to dig up more answers that would be fitting for the early stages of acquaintance. With that in mind, yet again you again pointed at your guide and chirped: "Bhi-roth". When you pointed at Sephorah, the answer regarding her heritage came from the unexpected direction: "Dove", the man clung in with his dry voice. After quickly recovering from this not-so-subtle interception of the conversation pitch, the woman looked at you and slightly tilted her head artistically, wordlessly hinting that no one asks such questions without willing to share their answer. But instead of answering, you could only shrug faintly and swipe the floor with your gaze.

Seeing your confusion, Ulren intervened by instigating a dialog with Sephorah and, possibly, offering his explanation on what you are. However, her lack of verbal response degraded this little conversation to a monologue. Instead of responding to him, she met your eyes and began to weave new signs in noticeably fluent and expressive manner. You perceived this new question as an inquiry of how you and Ulren are related. Having nothing to hide, you consequently pointed at the slit in the rocky wall and the wilderness that spans beyond it, at your guide, at the roasting pieces of meat, at the cape you were enveloped in, and at Ulren's shield. Her facial expression looked like the answer failed to meet her expectations, but the slow blink and a node indicated that she accepted it. Unlike your first companion, she seems to be very gifted when it comes to expressions.

Later that evening, after everyone ate the roasted hound meat (which tasted savourless), another short conversation happened between your companions. Well, 'conversation' is a little bit too exaggerating word to describe a brief trade in answers to a single question from each side. Your little interaction with the both of them seemed to primarily put you in the center of attention and only then deal with the issue of trust between these two. Even though it established some basic common ground, you can almost sense that there is a reason behind the mutual distrust of these two. Something that wasn't lying on the skin-deep level and what you could not possibly get a hold on at the moment. It is in the moments like this, not knowing languages except simple gestures felt especially frustrating. Even though you began to recognize (or think that you recognize) some patterns of your companions infrequent interactions, your capability to reliably perceive and express thoughts was still non-existent.

Not willing to give in to melancholy, you decided to preoccupy oneself with something where you have better expertise - the aspects manipulation. Taking advantage of the serene atmosphere that ensued, you recalled your previous practicum that took place in the abandoned manor and where you unknowingly disrupted the flow of aspects in the area. Now thinking of it, you were probably trying too hard to shape the output, hard enough to achieve the result opposite to the one you saw in the dream with the cyclopean sun seeping liquid light and where you seem to be able to channel it with the natural grace.

You almost dropped your jaw when a sudden insight struck you: the channeling and storing. Back in the manor, you were trying to manipulate the light in the area, not channeling it but exerting upon it. But what if it should be conducted and not suppressed? If you are a natural conduit of this aspect, then what if that uplifting and invigorating feeling you often experience in daytime is the proof of the fact that you already know how to absorb light to replenish your inner resources and now only need to figure out how to channel them back into the realm? A wide grin graced your face as you began your cognitive search of how to project your physical and mental strengths back into the realm in the various shapes of luminosity.

Sitting on one's knees, you slightly stretched your hands before you, turning the inner side of your palms upwards as if you are holding an imaginary sphere with your focus point in its center. After a deep breath, you began your search for the sequence of channeling your strengths. The result didn't show itself right away, but somewhere during the third minute about a dozen of tiny golden sparks jumped from the tips of your figure to the place of your concentration center and formed into a tiny glowing orb. Feeling the growing joy and excitement of having your efforts finally result in something, you memorized the concentration pattern and attempted to develop success by manipulating this sphere.

You attempted to channel even more strengths into it while also trying to apply pressure in hopes that it would shape the raw matter into something more complex, but instead of taking another shape, in a moment it squeezed to the sizes of a tiny pebble, increasing in brightness, and then exploded with the blinding light. You heard a clang of metallic plates and a woman shriek right after the flash, and when your sights returned to you, Sephorah was standing at the distance, eyeing you clearly shocked, and Ulren was sitting on the floor by the wall, giving you a strange look. After three of you exchanged glances, you just shrugged apologetically, trying to convey the picture of innocence behind your actions. That seemed to have a limited effect as Ulren sat slightly closer to Sephorah, who slid down and sat on her heels. To calm them down, you decided to demonstrate what was it (without going to excesses).

It was harder to figure out the sequence of projection than to repeat it in practice. As you summoned the sparks, you not pressed them into one big orb but distributed among three small spheres that were emitting gentle light. This exercise made you realize that maybe the target of your focus should be on the proto-lights at the early stage as you shape them in the way you want. With that in mind, you attempted to make a more stable formation akin to those you saw in the dream. You searched your hands and spread them sideways with the palms forward, which resulted in the creation of a slightly glowing, transparent barrier, of what seemed like a solidified light. The shape was the one a tower shield lying on its rib, but it was swiftly shrinking and losing its initial form like a sheet of paper ignited from the edges. This exercise took more of your strengths than you initially expected, hinting that this 'magic' is demanding towards your physique. Well, that didn't dim the fact that you achieved some progress. You were genuinely smiling at your companions, who seemed more perplexed than happy for you.

As you were about to pout after seeing your companions trading in suspicious whispers, your both senses of aspects and spirits began to dingle ominously. In a couple of seconds, a series of weird noises akin to sharp objects piercing the stone emerged. The mildly suspicious of your antics companions instantaneously grew highly suspicious because of the sounds, occupying mobile stances and holding their breath to determine the direction of disturbances. But the sounds ceased, giving space for tense silence. Remembering all well how your first night in this world (the night when the camp was ambushed) you prepared to resist if necessary; both mentally and by summoning more of the small lights, just in case. Slowly, you scanned the surrounding with your gaze, following with it towards the place where your senses registered something abnormal. After two painfully long seconds, your eyes trained on the top of the outer wall - where it crosses with the next floor. It felt like something big, magically composed, and spiritually unreadable was clinging to the wall from the other side upside-down as if descending from the upper levels and clutching to the cobbles just above the embrasure in the wall. This can't be right, isn't it? Regardless of the absurdity of the situation, you pointed your finger in the direction of that weird spot, letting others know that something is there.

Alas, it didn't help much, as the cobbles around the embrasure sustained a couple of mighty strikes, partly shattering after the first one, and collapsing into the hall after the second one, letting that 'something' to elbow into the hall. On a reflex, you raised a barrier of the solidified light, warding your face from the hard & heavy impact with a stray stone and creating an additional barrier with the intruder. Speaking of, the thing that broke the wall happened to be tall and massive, with six limbs adorned with sharpened 'fangs', composed of numerous bodies of varying species and armor scraps, held together by an unknown force and staring in all the direction with the blood-chilling blue glow in each eye-socket of its multiple skulls.

Spoiler: Sepulcher ripper

You even didn't have time to squeal, as the huge bone beast lept the direction of you and your companions with the grace of a big feline predator. Even though it met the resistance of your armed friends, it dodged Ulren's countering shield-charge by momentarily changing the direction, clinging to the inner wall, and then hopping past him. As the beast closed to your location, you attempted to blind it to no avail. When the bone construct was about to leap at you, it got intercepted by Sephorah's forward series of swipes, losing one of the lower "hands" to her slashes and one of the 'head' skulls to the bolts Ulren shot at it. A living being would've squirmed in pain, but this bone monstrosity only grew more aggressive. It literally lunged at Ulren through the position where Sephorah was standing, effectively kicking off balance the latter and nailing to the floor with all of its weight the former. Finding oneself on the ground, Ulren had to evade three 'mandible' pecks and two paw strikes by twice misplacing ones head from the strike trajectory, twice absorbing the stikes with the shield, and once striking against the beast's paw with the mace before being able to kick the thing off him. Dusky attempted to press on, tossing one of the charcoaled logs from the campfire at the monster, which sustained the impact with unnaturally loud crackling mixed with hissing, and escaped the area of Kyres' immediate counterattack in the most unexpectable way - by hopping upwards and clinging to the ceiling with its fangs. Even more unnerving was the fact that this uncanny spider-ish mobility allowed it to approach you through the ceiling and to prepare for a killing dive.

By the moment it released its fangs from the ceiling stones, you have already prepared the aspects nullifying cast. Remembering how you disrupted the flow of those in the manor, which led you to theorize on the topic whether or not arcane-bound creatures might take harm from it, you decided to weaponize this trick against the spawn. A gamble indeed, but it is not like your current physical state and the tactical situation granted you with a lot of alternative options. When the monster detached from the ceiling and already aimed its back legs for a piercing swoop, you shrieked and raised your hands towards it. For a short moment, all the colors left the hall, and then, there was darkness.

Not the ethereal darkness surrounding you in the afterlife but quite literal darkness disrupted only by the dim glow of campfire charcoal and by the sounds of countless bones scattering on the floor and heavy, uneven breathing of three people. Sparkle. After mentally assessing own integrity and feeling no new injuries, you summoned a tiny light orb from your index finger to substitute the light of the now-extinguished fire, catching eyes of your friends scanning you and then the bone-littered floor. Apparently, your theory proved correct, and areal disruption of aspects causes the creatures that manifest through magic to lose their corporeal shells. You can still sense the odd spiritual presence around you, but it was now exorcised from the vicious bone construct, and virtually unable to cause anyone physical harm for the indefinite period of time. Judging from how quick your fellow Dove and Bhiroth began to pick the bones and stash them into the dying campfire, they were not tempted to know how long would the previously possessed remnants stay genuinely dead. While helping others to incinerate the bones, you caught yourself on two conclusions: you are not the only one who can sense magic, as the spirit seemed to awake from its slumber after you practiced with the light aspect, and for the very first time it was you who actually solved the situation. Perhaps, if you practice enough, you would become even better in dealing with various problems.​

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Thin crimson trail of blood leads you through the snow to the inner yard of the fortress. It widens more and more the closer you approach the well in the middle of the yard. You look down and despite seeing only the blood trail leading from the darkness in its depth, you can sense barely audible rhythmic sounds. The unknown force picks you up from your feet, and slowly drags to the depth of the well. You can not move and can not scream as something invisible drags you into the depths. While floating down, you can feel multiple hands touching you in the darkness, like vegetative roots growing from the walls of the well, accompanied by the increasing stench of rotting bodies. You can sense the change of the temperature from crispy-cold to gently warm and then to heaty as you fall deeper and deeper.

When the feelings of fear and disgust were about to take over you, the fall resulted in you flopping in hot, thick liquid. Recovering from the fall, you raise your gaze to the object in the center of this hole of insanity - a huge heart-like formation composed of deformed human bodies tied together with the iron wire. The 'heart' beats slowly and rotates on its axis. With each beat, the pressure from its hot and shimmering like a furnace core squashes the shell made of bodies against the wire, squeezing blood and purulence from the natural and not-so-much holes of the mangled bodies. Each beat is accompanied by the moans, hisses, and squeals of the poor souls. The light from the core of the heart seeps through the cracks in its living "shell" with each expansion, allowing you to observe the vile surroundings - the cave filled with meaty flesh-roots and filled with ponds of blood.

As you approach the state of panic, the rotation of the heart and the intensity of its beating also increase. The moans and hisses turn into the ungodly choir. The blood in the ponds starts to boil and the earth itself begins to moan like an agonizing titan. The heat, the noise, and the pressure rise extremely fast up to the point where you can't even feel the air in your lungs. Your own heartbeat synchronizes with this infernal device, making you want to rip your chest open and tear the damned thing out with your own hands. Mere moments before fear and madness reduce you completely, you open your eyes. This time for real.

It was just a dream. A nightmare, if to be precise. While your real heartbeat was slowing down from the insane pace it adopted during the nocturnal mare, you summoned a single tiny light orb to check the surroundings. You were half-sitting and half-lying, enveloped in own wings and leaning against snoring Ulren sitting by the wall. You were under his heavy grip and leaning as if he was an oversized and armorer pillow or a the samely oversized and armored stuffed animal. Not that comfortable but surely safety-inducing. You sighed in relief and shifted the gaze to Sephorah, who was lying on the floor nearby in the pose of a fetus, covered by own cloak and shivering slightly. Perhaps, she was cold or was experiencing the same magnitude of a nightmare that you just saw. Alas, it

After burning the bones of the skeletal monstrosity that attacked you, it became the matter of safety to search the fortress for more threats and to seek for a new place to rest. For one hand, the building was devoid of other beings or monster or god-know-whats, but on the other hand, the place itself behaved like haunted, with the doors refusing to open for no reason, cobblestones falling centimeters from your heads as if they were aimed to hit you, and, in one particular instance, the floor that began to collapse underneath you. Since the previous camping location was flashed into the wilds by the fire in the hall where the brawl happened, you were forced to retreat to the half-preserved outer wall watchtower. You barricaded yourself in the guardroom right above the entrance, risking not to raise another campfire. You recall Ulren attempting to stay awake for the night watch, but it seems like the events of yesterday worn him down, which is understandable and what you used to your advantage in seeking for some nominal sleep comfort.

You could not see the world outside from this room with all the entrances and holes slumped with junk, but your inner clocks were telling you that the daylight is still distant. You sighed and slightly shifted in the grasp of your friend. It didn't feel like you would awake well-rested if you go to sleep again. The atmosphere if this place was threatening and the uncanny presence was still around, engraved in the very walls. Perhaps, it was cursed, or maybe it has the soul of its own and influences everything and everyone within its boundaries. Anyhow, while even realizing that upcoming nights in the wilds without sufficient equipment will be rough, you wanted nothing more than to leave this forsaken place as soon as possible. With that in mind, you nestled more comfortably and began to replay the memories of the past week, avoiding falling into slumber while waiting for others to wake up.​

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With the first signs of sunrise, your group hastily left the accursed ruins without even trying to pilfer it for supplies. No wonder, really. At the time of leaving the haunted rampart behind, the state of your group members was satisfactory, with no one cold, Ulren slightly hungry, and Sephorah slightly bruised. In fact, your injury was the second worst circumstance after the lack of camping equipment. As you found out later, the state of your little pack at that time was detrimental to the successful exodus from the wilds as the next four days you all spent struggling to survive on the way. Should the condition of one or a few of you be sufficiently worse at that time, your mutual survival would have been significantly less probable.

These four days were probably the most boring in your short lifespan but nevertheless hard as all of you had to walk over large distances and through hard winter terrain each day, searching for the next campfire fuel and food on the march, and spending nights cramped together in attempts to preserve heat. You spent these days in the exhausting march-sleep-march pattern, without any time to spend on yourself or your companions, who in their own turn were only marginally friendlier toward each other than back in the fort (which is not friendly at all).

Perhaps it was luck, but during these four days, you weren't chased by any giant predators, aggressive patrols, frenzied soldiers, or undead. There were three noticeable events, however. During the second evening, your route led you through the hill from which you were able to take a panoramic view of the city far far away, which looked even worse than the one you fled. Dark remnants of the houses, not a single column of smoke rising from chimneys, no lights and traces of life, only debris and grime. What took your attention back then was the expression on Ulren's face after he looked at it. He stopped walking for a few seconds, his gaze slipped into nothingness, and face curved into a sad grimace. You can't possibly know what caused such a reaction, but there surely was a story behind it.

The second case happened later that evening. After the campfire was established, all of you began to hear uncharacteristic noises akin sobs and whispers in the area surrounding the camp. You tried to use your supernatural senses, but the results were negative. The only odd thing that you noticed was the ghastly blue-green color of the larger moon. After the version of possible pursuers stalking around your resting place died down due to inadequacy, your teammates grew uncharacteristically anxious. Willing not to take additional risks of facing unidentified phenomenon or entities, your group had to move for an extra distance and to re-establish the camp further away after the night has fallen. As if being tired was not enough, that night turned out uncommonly cold. You even had to use your wings as plaids for both of your scared and shivering teammates. Ain't no one of them froze to death during sleep, so it was a good move from your side.

The third event happened next day. As far as you managed to get a hold of the situation, at some point Sephorah grew anxious about the state of the matters and decided to flush her irritation on Ulren. An asymmetrical quarrel ensued, rendering you helpless in averting them from conflicting. However, when you were about to start praying for the divine intervention to calm them down, their angry exchange tone switched to the one you could characterize as mutually mocking, then to joking, and then to neutral. What started as a quarrel transformed into their first (on your memory) conversation that lasted the astonishing twenty minutes or so. After praising in one's thoughts the entity from the dream that preceded your awakening to this realm for not falling victim to the group infighting, a revelation came down unto you: these two become uniquely turbulent when together. Awkwardly turbulent, even. This... can't be a very good sign, isn't it?

During the last day of your route, when all of you were already underfed due to the scarce ratio of wild berries and sporadic small birds, cold from calling nights in unsuitable conditions, and exhausted due to the long and tiresome way, you began to see first buildings and people. You were slowly but steadily approaching a city. The maintained, lively, and well-guarded city appeared before your sights. All of you, tired, exhausted, hungry and cold, moved toward the luring safety lying behind the city gates that featured two big banners depicting silver tree on blue background. As you approached them, more details about the state of the city began to reveal themselves: the outskirts and the main roads were swarmed with refugees (just like you) and the guards who were trying to maintain order. There were also the other soldiers - the ones equipped with less regaled armor and who were busy grouping up, organizing in convoys, and moving away from the city walls. The biggest hustle was happening near the gates as the number of refugees wanting to get past the fortification was way higher than both the ability of the guard to inspect and let those who have passed the necessary checks.

Spoiler: The city

While making the way to the entrance, your bulky friend had to refer to some elbow pushing, as the mob at the very gates was a bit too numerous and agitated. After noticing an unlikely silhouette, one of the guards inquired Ulren of something. Your friend was laconic yet still perplexed the guard who addressed him. After that little display of confusion, the guard let all of you three in but only as far as to the guard room in the gate intersection, sending his younger-looking partner (or subordinate) into the city. While waiting for something in the room, Ulren stuck in the conversation with two older watchmen, pointing at somewhere beyond the gates. It seemed like he was sharing his observation of what happened in the city you fled from before. Sephorah was numbly staring behind the armored iron grates, pretending she wasn't listening. But eventually, your gaze fell upon one of a youngish city guardian who was eyeing you... strangely. The best characteristic that you managed to give to it was the intrusive interest in your person. It made you feel awkward. Then, when he decided to approach you for whatever reason hidden in his mind, it became slightly scary.

However, before the man managed to impose an inspection on you, a ringy slap echoed against the stone walls. Sephorah slapped this creepy individual and fanned a spectacular scandal with the unsuspecting and overwhelmed stalker, who failed to reciprocate in any tangible way. The older guards began to laugh at him as your more recent friend mocked her target. This turn of the event made the creepy guard go in the full defense under Dusky's vicious verbal attacks and nigh-hysterical laughter of his older colleagues, making him effectively forget about the initial intentions regards you. Perhaps you were too tired and were imagining things, but you think you caught Sephora's understanding glance at yourself. Looks like she organized this play to draw strangers attention away from you. But... how did she know?​

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Soon enough, the guard that was sent by the watch captain returned to his post, verifying something to his superior. Then, you were let behind the city walls, accompanied by another pair of guards. As your feet touched the city cobbles, you tried to assess the surroundings, studying the gothic architecture, the troubled faces of citizens, and the occasional refugees either reuniting with their acquaintances in this city or participating in argue with the locals. One of such scenes took place near the temple, where a haggard group was shouting angrily and throwing stones at the priests that were passing by. This commotion stole the attention of everyone in the street and by the time it was resolved by the security forces, you noticed a change - Sephorah disappeared, leaving you and Ulren with only her rain cloak wrapped around you. Unlike you, the others didn't even seem to care about her disappearance, continuing to walk further down the streets. You grappled the cloak by the edge and harbored a wish to see her again; after what you've been through, it would be sad not to see each other again.​

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Peace, warmth, and comfort. You were resting in the room of a rich manor where Ulren led you. This place was lively, with a lot of serving staff whose souls you could sense behind the walls. Your friend's spark was also nearby - a floor below the room where you were left. Possibly speaking to the master of this household. Well, not a master but a mistress - the elegant lady clad in a posh dress, with the compact pet reptile on her shoulder, and who seemed to know the person who found you in the woods.

Spoiler: The mistress

By your arrival, she met you in the hall alongside some of the mansion guards and servants, participating in an odd conversation with your guide. You thought of that conversation as an odd one because of the impressions that you collected from it: she tried to conceal her amazement and other emotions by trying to speak impassionately and even somewhat cold, while Ulren was unnaturally communicative with her, with some apologetic vibes in his speech and mimics. It felt like the first reunion of old friends after many years, with one hardly believing that it took place and another one trying to make it look like the last time they have seen each other was yesterday. Despite the mistresses' original intention to keep the emotions at bay, the exchange was far from a cold one. Before she and Kyres began to nearly shout at each other, the center of attention shifted to you as Kyres did something that made one of the manor guards to drop his halberd, one handmaiden to swoon, and everyone to gasp - he unwrapped the cloak that concealed your wings, exposing them for everyone present. The panic ensued with only the mistresses' pet retaining the immovable composure. Soon, a whole bunch of headmistresses led you to this well-decorated and cozy room. And that's where you found yourself after your first two hellish weeks in this world. In warmth, comfort, and safety, surrounded by about a dozen and a half of people who don't seem to possess a threat to you. Finally.

Sitting on a comfy bed, absolutely exhausted physically and, perhaps, emotionally, you ____

(A note from QM. The next chapter will allow you to flesh the personality of our girl in details and to learn a lot about the world, so I endorse you to use the "Write-in" option more actively to achieve the best results. As the next chapter will be more roleplay-ish, this vote is a little demo of what awaits you)
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[] fell asleep instantly.
Your eyes have seen some messed up things. It is time for them to rest.

[] gave in to the curiosity and decided to inspect your surroundings and general circumstances for the better awareness.
Everything is so different from what you might have used to. Now, you need and want to feel fully aware.

[] logically assess your situation and where is it heading to.
You've hid from these thoughts for long enough. You need a plan

[] just began to weep quietly, discharging all the repressed emotions that you gathered during these two weeks.
Aye. You've been through much. Way too much for someone as inexperienced and innocent.

[] Write-in

Spoiler: Trivia

I'll give you more info on what awaits you in the next chapter and the drop-down analysis of your actions after making some minor format changes to the thread. Also, there's a new "font" picture above the main post

 

[Teloch]

While you are waiting, trying to read that bulk of the text, or thinking on whether Lucy is more ethical, sensory, or logical, I'd give you the analysis of the choices made in the first chapter and where things could've led you otherwise.

Spoiler: The very beginning

1.0 The frosty awakening
1.1 Discovering oneself

These were the most crucial because of the scenario selection and generation in response to the race and background you choose. You might have become a professional Deus-Vulter from Olfadir, storming at the ole Beilford and purging the hek out of things (or not), or you might have become a Freelander herbalist, ensuring that people of your clan are healthy and sane, or you might have even become a bhiroth scholar, hunting for the secrets this world keeps. But you decided to go extreme and picked a representative of the unseen race who have no knowledge and ties to this world. And a charming one at that. Since you survived to the second episode, this is where you will be able to actively use your trump cards. But I'll explain it in another post. What you need to know is that you picked the scenario of the outward and inward discovery.

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Spoiler: The early pathways choosing

1.2 First contact!
1.3 Of contacts friendly and not so much

You could've tried to run, be friendly, or try to be manipulative or to pull out something wild, depending on your imagination. At this stage, you could've ended up with one of the three characters I designed, which would lead you either to the Lyf kingdom, to Freelanders plains, or to Olfadir. Alternatively, you might have ended fully feral and alone, eventually settling in the castle from the 1.15 story update or somewhere else. However, you decided to stick to the first companion and thus to the basic scenario I designed.

Yes. More than four absolutely different destinations depending on your very earliest decisions. And yes, you could've reached those places should you used the "Write-in" option and decide to sneak from the camp. Yes, I'm that mean.​

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Spoiler: Playing with danger

1.4 Of men and wolves
1.5 Of stained hearts and the impossible entities
1.6 Of the dead, undead, and not dead

This is where I was actively playing with your perception of risk versus various benefits. You could've earned extra loot should you choose to chase the wargs to their den and dispatch them there (the gruesome scene of digging in the other travelers remains included).

In update 1.5, I wanted to see how do you tend to distribute risks among those surrounding you. It happened that you do tend to risk with others although only if the danger can be alleviated to a certain degree. As a result, you gathered some much-needed loot. Should you not, you would have likely frozen to death eventually.

Also, smart move with helping Ulren to get back in shape. Otherwise, his wound would've become much more of a threat and imposed substantial physical limitations on him, which would have rendered him less efficient at your group surviving (played out very well when you was fleeing the templars). Instead, you passed on the opportunity to seek for food, leaving yourself and Big U hungry and slightly weaker.

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Spoiler: Calm before the storm and the alternative path

1.7 Of the dreams vivid and traumatic
1.8 Of narcissism and esoterics
1.9 Of wicked guests and dying cities
1.10 Of warmth and feathers

In this intermediate part of the chapter, I tried three times to lure you out from Ulren in one way or another, which would've resulted in you meeting Sephorah earlier, having to interact with her a bit, and when the crisis started, she and Kyres would have met, with most likely only one of them walking out alive. Aye, I was dead-set on letting out only one of them with you. However, you avoided all of those traps.

Should you survive with her but not him, the dusky damsel would've taken you to a particular North-Eastern Duchery that look like the perfect stage for a gothic novel. You would have also had an option to engage in the big sis - little sis dynamics with her.

As mentioned earlier, I was planning to leave you all alone in the besieged city should you pay no mind to Ulren when he was anxious about what should he do in the ensued situation. That was the vote where you cemented the pathway where you got out with Ulren and Sephorah. It turned out pretty well for you, ye lucky pragmatists. Now, you will see a lot of the DAO-style Allistair&Morrigan antics by these two with the chance to influence them in one way or another.

And again, I played with your perceptions of risks. Although, you decided to turn the allure of new findings down, missing the opportunity to uncover some interesting objects and maybe even raise some crafting skills. Better safe than sorry, eh?​

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Spoiler: The crisis

1.11 Of vicious bacchanalia
1.12 Of smokes and unveiling
1.13 Of bloodied ice
1.14 Of harm and rashness

The part when a poop hit the fan. The first option was to take different routes, depending on your speed versus risk perceptions and the estimations of own capacities. This is the part where you or your companion(s) could've died for good (be aware that I despise "Disney deaths"). This is where the previous chapter led up to. Should your party enter it while more injured/hungry/underequipped? More likely than not, someone would have died (or everyone).

In the first branching, you decided to take less risk by leaving others to die. Doing otherwise would have ensured the better relationship with Seporah but only in the case if you survived it (aka no critical fails). That would have also increased the possible count of survivors who managed to flee the city. Aka, you might have saved more lives. But at least you got pretty good rolls and triggered a story-changing event.

In the second instance, you were left to chose the types of dangers to face. I was somewhat baffled to see you opting for the icy moat escape, as it implied the extra lethal risk for your companion. The dice gods decided to play you, gracing Big U with almost divine rolls on your account. Should there be one more failed check, that would've been the Game Over situation, but the big man paved the way. Still, you acted rashly, going for the visually less dangerous route. Also, your failed rolls killed an additional fleeing civilian, as you were moving too slowly.

The third instance was a bit of surprise to me as you decided to act rashly by throwing our poor freezing girl into the fray. Just... why? Your teammates were more than enough to dispatch the opposition but you still imposed her to risk... I thought you would recognize that I'm leading you into the trap but you just hopped into it willingly. And should the luck roll be 1 point lower, you would have died there. DIED, dammit! But still, you decided to save the kids and loot the attackers. Doing otherwise would have likely caused deaths along the path that was mentioned in the last update or you would have been guilty of the untimely death of the children. Well played (minus the risks-managing part). You nearly failed twice in this group of updates, but the dice gods were merciful to you (and your previous strategy allowed you to increase the odds of staying alive)

As for the last update, there was no immediate danger as you built up the protagonist to be anti-undead and anti-magic nuke. Really, considering the aspects she possesses, she would be able to utterly obliterate all that has magic in it. In addition, the very update itself was the one big difficulty check, where the condition of your party was tested. Should it enter the last update in worse overall shape, not everyone (or anyone at all) would have made it to the city.
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With some exceptions, you acted quite pragmatically, trying to find the safest option. Your character progression was a little bit scattered though, with slightly more priority towards magic over practical skills or sociability and basic learning. A tactician magical girl, eh?

Now, the vote that is now running will slightly shift the scales of Lucy's personality and possibly give a few hints of what awaits here in the immediate future.

PS: I'll give you the post on what you should know about the next chapter soon (today-kind-of-soon)
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[Teloch]

> It will be almost entirely social, with no straight risks to be murdered by some monstrosity. Although, it doesn't mean that you're completely safe from everything.
> Our girl now resides in the manor of a wealthy and (in)famous line of scholars. It is packed with facilities (from huge library and workshop to gymnasium and small observatory) as well as hirelings of many specialties.
> If your main task in the previous chapter was not to die, here your primary goal would be to manage time in order to learn about the realm, socialize, and raise your capacities. In a sense, this is our girl's prime time of almost unobstructed development.
> You will have to plan weeks or parts of weeks. The limit would be not the time points but major and minor actions quota (complex and time-consuming ventures like learning will require major actions while visiting someone for a chat or picking some book to read before sleep would take minor actions)
> If you would like to properly socialize with someone, you will have to fill a simple template by mentioning the general attitude and what would you like to talk about
> Surely, there will be events and plan-changing circumstances. Some of them will happen because of the plot reasons while others can be unlocked by interacting with others.
> Most of the characters are adjusted to specific tasks and places. Want to save time? You may ask Ulren for some practice and to have a quick chat while on it. Same goes for kitchen staff, alchemist, sorcerer, mistress, and other actors.
> This place has potential recruits to your party of raving lunatics and misfits.
> There will be outdoor and city episodes.
> From the start, Lucy's actions quota will be limited because of her overall ignorance and the necessity to teach her some basic knowledge and language. There will be ways to accelerate the learning process so you would be able to manage the entirety of your time sooner (if only you paid more attention to learning during chapter 1, you would have wasted less time learning basics in chapter 2).
> You won't be able to befriend everyone and learn or discover everything. Chose well.

 

[Teloch]

The measured clicks of the Grandfather Clock, the muffled sounds of mansion dwellers hustling in the building and talking to each other, the warmth of the hearth, and the softness of the bedding. You found yourself in the ambiance of comfort sharply resonating with your injured, tired, hungry and cold self. It was so different from everything you grew accustomed to during the last two week that your frame needed some time to adapt to the change of the environment. And as you began to warm up, your wound also started to actively show itself via dull but growing pain.

Having your attention distracted by the flesh wound, your mind rushed through the events that preceded your arrival here and the dangers that you stumbled at (or, in some cases, they stumbled at you). This rewind resulted in complicated feelings growing in you. First of all, it was scary, if not outright terrifying. The damage your body sustained was nothing compared to the perspectives of being eaten by the predators, killed and then possessed by a ghastly fiend, stabbed or pierced by other people, suffered at the hand of ghouls, mauled and ripped by the giant bone monstrosity, or even heart-stopped in the dream. The recollections of all the possible ways you could have died added to the fresh memories of all the deaths you have seen in the city causing your already foul mood to deteriorate even further.

Your curious mind combed through some questions that no one of your life experience should ask: what did all those people do to deserve such a grim fate at the hands of own kin? What happened to the souls of those people? What lies on the other side of existence? Is it the boundless feeling of inner nothingness, like the one you managed to snug from the very first dram that heralded your awakening to this world? Your very senses protested against the extremely unpleasant thought of being reduced to nothing, sending a shiver down your spine and wetting your eyes.

Unstrung by the flow of negative emotions, your mind dug into something it should have never brought up for your own sake - the people who fled with you and died. There was violence and the panic caused by it. The common sense and the clear judgment were overthrown by the primitive instincts, but now, when you were safe, your conscience was questioning you whether the family of the girl that managed to flee only because of your companions would have survived should you behave differently or were plain better? What if that young woman bearing the new life under her heart would have lived another day should you not bog down everyone else? By asking these questions, you failed to register that your cheeks were already wet.

Catalyzed by the first stains of guilt and doubt on your heart and empowered by overwhelming perplexity, the storm of emotions inside you became imminent. Why is this world so cruel and dangerous? Why did you have to protect yourself and face hardships so early in life? Why the only good memory that you carried away was that innocent snowball fight? Why were you even brought to this broken world? Why you? Why?! You would have cried out loud these questions of only you knew the language, and thus, you had to resort to pouring all this disappointment and abashment with tears, sitting on your knees on the bed and covering your face with hands.

However justified it was, your little embarrassing tantrum didn't last long. Maybe you just needed to let those emotions out of the picture and away from your heart, or maybe you just plain grew bored of sobbing; regardless, you flopped down on the bed, sinking back into the atmosphere of nocturnal coziness. What if things aren't that bad, and you just had a bad start? What if this is the destination toward which Ulren was heading to and picked you up along the way? After receiving some harsh early life experience, you were mentally prepared to wake up and move out another day, but you hoped and the clues hinted that it might not be needed. You scanned the area for soul sparks, distinguishing the one you grew accustomed to and which belonged to your friend one floor below. Despite the cruelty of this realm, he helped and saved you - the totally unfamiliar person - for a few times. Maybe you should try to know his reasons for doing so and to thank him for that? Then, your mind traced back to Sephorah; why did she disappear? Would you see her again? You really hope so, considering that you still have her cloak and a lot of questions you would like to ask and things to... uh... gesture.

It appeared that this place is quite lively. Good, you thought to yourself as you grew to hate staying alone after the events of the previous two weeks. Maybe others would be kind enough to help you to get the hold on things and to help with answering the questions you tormented yourself with a couple of minutes ago. Maybe they would even be interesting and pleasant to communicate with. And the place also seemed so big from the outside, no doubt it holds a lot of facilities to offer. So much novelty and discoveries! By the time you were thinking about it, you already calmed down after the short outburst of repressed emotions, pacified by the thoughts and wishes that things may go uphill from now on.

However, something disturbed you from your musings in a rapid manner: two soul sparks swiftly flying away from the window on the outside, right after emitting a short sound of claws scratching against an iron surface. Having horrible previous experience with windows (you were assaulted through them twice in the two last weeks), you concentrated and unwrapped that knife given to you weeks ago during the encounter with wargs. Just when your mood began to normalize, something requiring your expertise happened again. You sighed grumpily and started to crouch towards the troublesome architectural detail. After making a deep breath in and mustering your bravery, you swiftly peeked through it, noticing nothing peculiar at first - just an idyllic panoramic view of a snow-covered city with rich houses, lightened clocktower, churches, and other architectural wonders. But after taking a moment to enjoy the scenery that spanned beyond the boundaries of the manor ambits, you did notice something - a striped feather of brown colors lying in the messed snow on the outerior window sill. A bird? Or was there a couple of them? Were they peeking at you? Eeh, nevermind. You sighed in relief, venturing back to the bed. Not even thinking about undressing, you slumped on it again, wrapping in the warm coverlet like in a cocoon, and falling into deep, dreamless sleep even before you had a chance to think about the comfort in which you ended up today.

Spoiler: Trivia

Designing a couple more characters and spasmodically browsing for art. The first update of the second chapter would likely land later this week. In the meanwhile, I was thinking about a little bonus like letting you elaborate on what did Lucy learn during her first weeks (or how did they impact her) and adding one point to a certain skill or attribute if the explanation is convincing enough, but somehow I doubt that anyone would jump on this opportunity

 

[Teloch]

Tickling. Your mind was disturbed in its uncommonly deep but perfectly justifiable slumber by a short-lived sensation. Vaguely recalling that you fell asleep in a presumably safe zone, you wriggled to shake the pesky irritation off and to win a bit more time of sweet rest. Through the veil of a dream, you managed to capture the muffled sound of someone's giggle. Yet, it failed to eject you out from a nap and you headed back to the depths of unconsciousness. However, your rest was disturbed again in a while, and this time you simply could not ignore it like you did before.

You slowly opened your eyes and witnessed a bizarre scene of a whole bunch of people standing, sitting, and kneeling over your bed. You recognized the mistress of this place from yesterday; she was busily writing something down into the notes that she was holding while her scaly pet was harassing the room's chandelier and paying you no attention. Closer to you, there was a lad dressed in robes, sitting on a chair and fumbling with cloth rags, variously shaped bottles, and a bucket of water. His routine with the inventory was not all that efficient as he was staring at you with a studying look not ridden of surprise. But the closest person to you was a hulking man kneeling over you, tying the strings of a wide medical belt for now encasing your injured abdomen and smelling with herbs.

Spoiler: The robed lad

Spoiler: The cheery giant

Did... did they unwrap you from the camisole and treat your wound while you were asleep? Even though you had nothing against receiving help with your injury, getting such in a state of sleep felt a little bit awkward if not creepy, so you reflectively slid your hands down to your abdomen only to have them brushed away by the nursing giant, whose smile grew as wide as the bigger moon in the night sky, while he shook his finger at you. The whole scene of you being nursed back to health by a creature of Ulren's dimensions and of totally disarming smile felt surrealistic, but hey - you've seen stranger things already.

You let your 'doctors' do their job without interruptions while feeling that whatever medication methods they applied has already made you feel much better, soothing the irritating pain impulses under the corset-like belt. While finishing fixating the belt, the bulky man turned his attention to the younger lad, giving him brief instructions, and then telling something to the mistress. Being unable to do anything else at the moment, you scanned the surroundings with your supernatural senses. The retrieved feedback was intriguing: both the bulky healer and his apprentice were infused with a certain aspect; an aspect that made you hear their heartbeats, sense vibes of vigor in their metaphorical auras, and overall perceive them as brimming with good health. You could also feel this vigor in yourself, as well as, for some strange reason, the feeling of heightened hunger.

Among other observations was the impression that there was a whole bunch of people standing behind the room's door and peeking at you through the gap. As you slowly shifted your head in that direction, the timely shut door confirmed your suspicion. Why would anyone be afraid of you? And it is not like it was happening for the first time either. Your musings of others reaction on you were cut short as the gentle giant finished his work, allowing the mistress to approach and talk to you.

At first, she was talking to you in a questioning but also emotionless manner, which made you wonder what did she want from you. The lack of her mimics also puzzled you greatly, making it virtually impossible to grasp the context. Seeing you not being able to understand her inquiry, she tried to repeat it on a couple more languages. When that attempt predictably failed, she showed you a piece of her notes containing a few differently shaped lines of text. Yet, the only answer you mustered was but a confused shrug with shoulders and wings alike.

Clearly perplexed by the absence of any answer, the mistress spent about three seconds staring into nothingness and then nodding to no one in particular. Meanwhile, the smaller male clumsily pretended to not stare at you while packing up the inventory and the huge man was still giving the jowly grin of someone who witnessed a living fairytale. Regardless, this awkward stare game was interrupted by the lady, who cried out a command to those jostling behind the door. In a couple of seconds, a noise of minor commotion reached your ears and a young maid in the uniform was shoved into the room (most likely by her co-workers). While her mistress was speaking in command tone, she watched you in a way children would have looked at a fairytale happening before their eyes. And then, while nodding in acknowledgment of instructions received, her grin grew similar to the one the hulking man was giving you. For some reason, there seemed to be only two persons in this house who were not visually shocked by the fact of your existence - the posh lady with the strict vibes and the man who brought you here. Odd, if not alarming.

Spoiler: The quirky maidservant

When everyone except the maidservant left the room, she attempted to talk to you, if that is how one would call a situation where one person talks to another one while blatantly ignoring the fact that the latter can't understand a thing. But at least you managed to deduce from her very lively gesturing that she wants you to follow her. That would be nice, considering that you know almost nothing of what lies behind the room where you spent the night and who else inhabits this place.

In a matter of minutes, she was already dragging you by hand through the ornate corridors of the vast manor, startling occasional maidservants that happened to be on your way and ruining the guards' attempts at napping on a job. Both the windows and the ceilings were high, and judging by the view through the glass, you were on the third floor above the ground level. The interiors were decorated with sturdy furniture and curiosities (like intricate vases, statues, and a bit scary fetishes), the floors were carpeted, and the walls were adorned with the paintings mostly depicting landscapes, plants, and animals you have never encountered before. By the moment you began to struggle to digest the thought that a place like this can exist in the harsh and cruel world to which you woke up two weeks ago, your new guide led you to the room full of humming contraptions, large brass capacities for liquids, and plentiful vapor in the air. That's right - she led you to a bathroom with the intention to help you to wash up a little without touching the elastic belt around your wound, to show how the odd machinery works, and to acquaint with something absolutely mesmerizing - the warm water. While you were busy getting accustomed to the benefits of civilization hands-on, she brought you a white robe-ish dress with the two hastily made cuts on the back to meet the peculiarities of your physique. It also proved to be above your size, with the sleeves hanging down. But hey, it was a nice change to the rags that were your first set of clothes not so long ago.

And if the thought that there are more comfortable ways to satisfy the hygiene and natural needs that do not involve chilling your rear over a snow-drift behind bushes was not cathartic enough, your newfound chestnut-haired friend led you to the vast mess hall at the ground level, filled with saliva-squeezing scene emerging from the kitchen in the half-basement and with a couple of scullions serving dishes full of hearty meal. You saw unarmored Ulren sitting at the table with the smiley giant who tended to your wound earlier, having a lively chat over a juicy steak with bakery, just like old friends would do. After seeing you enter the hall, Ulren smirked lopsidedly and raised his hand in a greeting, while his interlocutor gave you his characteristic grin. The mistress was also sitting at another table, cornered by two more persons: a likely blond clad in a high-collared trenchcoat, and a decadently-looking male with the burn around his left eye. The latter two engaged in an intense debate between themselves after their three (?) eyes studied you up and down. The mistress, however, paid it little attention, preferring to focus on watching your every step with the notes at the hand. Not even her winged reptile pet - the one who was now chomping something under the table with its scaly rear and tail peeking from under the long tablecloth - succeeded in stealing the focus of its master.

Spoiler: The uniformed blonde

Spoiler: The burned man

Perhaps you would have spent the rest of the day peeking at other people should the scullions not serve you food. During the last two weeks, you grew accustomed to all kinds of foul surprises, but today was different. Minus the feeling of being studied by others like an odd living anomaly and the sharp change of pace, you could feel the careful enjoyment. Even more so when you sunk your teeth into...

[] fried dough envelopes with spicy meat. You hope no one heard your cat-like growls over these delicious proteins.
[] a juicy fruit. If only you weren't busy being so herbivorous, you would have probably wondered where did they get this one in wintertime.
[] a sweet fritter with chocolate. You never suspected what a sweet tooth you have.

After finishing the meal, you contentedly leaned against the chair, relaxedly lowering your wings. So many better things in one day that you might grow spoiled. Lazily, your gaze drifted back towards other attendants of the mess hall. All of them, including the maidservant who brought you here, were listening to Ulren, who was telling a lengthy, elaboratory monologue aimed at others. Now thinking of it, there was one question that occurred to you during the way and which seemed to be well-timed for the occasion. As you slowly walk to him from the side, he interrupted his tale and everyone else except the little reptile that curled on the table near his master focused on you instead.

You knew the question that tortured you, but just as before, its delivery was limited to gestures exclusively. In light of that, you pointed at him with the left hand, then at yourself, and then made a circling motion with the right hand that ended with the index finger pointed at the floor. You could hear a few people whispering to each other and Ulren hesitating for a moment. Then, he nodded at you after giving the mistress lady a short but tense glance. Just to be extra sure, you repeated the inquiry via gesturing and yet again received the affirmative answer along with a pat. It can only mean that against the odds, you have finally reached the destination.

Upon receiving the confirmation that you are here to stay for an indefinite amount of time, you
[] (Write-in the reaction and/or action)

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When the sun began to hide behind the roofs of the city buildings, you found yourself back on the third floor, in the very same room you spent the previous night. When the repast was over, the quirky maidservant was ordered to lead you back to your designated chamber. Although, you made a little detour when she showed you where she can be found in case of anything (a small room on the first floor), and allowed you to stare at the now-dormant garden and a couple of glassed greeneries in the inner yard of the mansion through a window. Satiated, warm, and changed to decent clothes, you were sitting on the bed, thinking of what to do. The day was far from over, and you could probably spend the time exploring this place. Or, maybe, you could try to communicate with its residents. Or do something else that would deplete your unused energy.

Not thinking long, you decided to:

[] Do nothing productive, luxuriate, and fall asleep happily.
What? You deserved some rest!

[] Descend down and ask your familiar maidservant to show you around.
It might be a good idea to ask someone to show you places if you are about to stay here. This might also strike an acquaintanceship(s) and save you from trouble.

[] Inspect (read: sneak) this place on your own. (Easy (17) sneaking skill check)
-[] The third floor
-[] The second floor
-[] The first floor
-[] the inner yard
Most likely, you will end up stumbling at someone. But hey. Your experience shows that it might be a good way to meet people! or is it?

[] Inspect your room for details. (A perception attribute roll with no failure but for more detils with the higher beaten difficulty tiers)
About time to get to know the concept of personal space, isn't it?

[] Write-in
You might have a better idea of what to do. Or not.

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From now on, you can specify the social actions towards certain persons. In this particular vote, it is not warrantied that you will stumble at someone of your choosing (unless you specifically ask someone with higher awareness to lead you to someone). If you want to adjust the policy toward a person, specify their name, the attitude you wish to take (for the next update or in general), and the topic of conversation you wish to pursue.

​

 

[Teloch]

It didn't take you long to decide to come down and ask Amalia - the maidservant girl assigned to aid you - to show you around the place, so you may know where to find all the new people and get an idea on what are they doing in here. Speaking of the new faces, you think you have caused a minor shock by pulling out that names exchange trick that you previously used in the haunted fort. Perhaps, the mistress had to digest the evidence that you are aware of the basic concepts of sociability, but after what seemed like an awkward pause and a brief explanation by Ulren (to which she did not answer, however), the lady introduced herself and those surrounding you. If you memorized all of their names correctly, then the mistresses name is supposed to be Rosaline Dalgaard, the uniformed blonde's name is Erika Holt, the burned man bears the name of Karl Norskov, the bulky healer was simply introduced to you as Claudius. The handmaiden to which you were now coming down introduced herself back then - when lady Rosaline apparently forgot about her existence, she squeezed into the conversation and spoke out her name anyways, which is Amalia, Amalia Brant.

It wasn't long until you caught Brant readying to leave her room. When she saw you, she gave you a faint smile and froze in her place wondering what brought you so early after being left to own devices. In high spirits, you attempted to gesture her that you want her to show you around. But that only caused Amalia to raise one of her brows questioningly and to ask you something. For the second time, when you pointed at yourself, at her, placed her hand on your wrist, and then pointed around you, she managed to grasp your request. Dragging you by the hand and chirping lively (even though realizing that you can not understand her), she was indeed an eccentric change compared to your very first guide. But it was amusing in a way, and you willingly followed.

However, despite your expectations or, perhaps, hopes, she dragged you in the opposite direction from the kitchen. Through the carpeted floors and decorate corridors adorned with curiosities and heavy curtains, you found yourself in a parlor filled with soft furniture, equipped the decoratively enriched hearth, a few conveniently-situated showcase cabinets filled with books and curiosities, an oddly-shaped object with a row of ivory keys in front, and with the uncommonly acute scent hanging in the air. The place oozed with comfort and serenity, but it was not hard to imagine group gatherings taking place here, where attendants can enjoy the company in a cozy atmosphere. Past the showcase with an intricately painted vase and a couple of large portraits on the wall, you approached the odd object that captivated your attention. Carefully, you pressed one of the keys, immediately recoiling as the wooden box reacted to your poking with a single high-pitched ring, seconded by the muffled giggles of Amalia. Trying not to laugh at you (much), she took you by hand and led further into the estate's wing.

She dragged you onwards through a corridor with most of the doors closed along the way and but a few residents tending to their chores behind them. You threw a quick glance through a doorway gap along the way, capturing the scene of two maidservants clad in the same uniform as Amalia fiddling with laundry and metal contraptions over a conversation in a room full of lockers, chests, tubes, and clothes drying on ropes. You also attempted to peek into the room that followed next, but, judging by the pulling force of your guide, she considered it unworthy of your attention. Same happened by the time you reached the corner staircase leading upwards and to the basement, but this time she let you take a peek into the hall had marked the corner. Inside, you saw a spacious yet deprived of masterful furniture gymnasium, featuring segments with polished stone floorings, racks with uncarefully nested weapons, practice dummies akin to those you saw in the haunted fort (although in much better condition), a few wooden benches, and a rack with maintenance tools piled on it. You also spotted a poorly-hidden empty bottle peeking at you from under one of the benches. Apparently, neatness is not the main virtue of those who manage this hall.

The stairway brought you up to the second floor, and in a minute the two of you were standing behind the heavy wooden doors in a hall mightily distinct from those you have just seen: rather big, with a lot of bookcases, with workstations bearing the devices made of metal or glass, with schematics and maps pinned to the walls and the panels separating the workstations, with heavy chests and tall lockers concealing stones, bottles, dried herbs, and other materials. Although there were even more peculiarities to this room, as your gaze hovered over a stand with faintly glowing crystal, a mechanical model depicting eight differently-shaped wooden spheres simultaneously moving on their orbits and making faint tickling sounds, a heavy cabinet hosting many jars filled with liquid and some amorphous bits, a big wall tapestry depicting a tree-like scheme, and a...

You shrieked and recoiled away from where you saw a huge, non-human skull staring at you with its eyeless gaps and gaping maw with saber-like teeth. Your shriek startled your guide and the trajectory of your fall caused a couple of bottles to slid down from the table that absorbed your impact and to shatter against the floor. What was even more sudden, was the fact that Amalia's face filled with poorly suppressed giggles instead of the terror of the skeletal fiend which, unlike the one that assaulted you in the ruined fort, remained absolutely motionless. Seeing your confusion, she helped you up and then approached the damned skull, playing with its lower jaw and parodying something in a silly manner with her face. Even if relieving, it was not very funny, not after you saw a thing like that almost dispatch you and your companions. Thank goodness this one was just a pile of powerless bones wired to each other with a copper thread and left hanging as an exhibit.

You regained your breath, but not for long - the sound of shattering glass attracted someone from nearby to inspect the source of the noise, signaling their approach with the sounds of footsteps echoing from the corridor. Instantaneously, Amalia's face curved into a half-guilty and half-mischievous grimace. She gestured you to keep quiet for the time she fiddled with the lock on the side door leading to this hall. Once the lock surrendered, she grabbed you by the hand and swiftly dragged after herself in the depths of the adjusted room, hiding from the "crime scene". Both of you quickly snuck out through a compact hall with a cathedra and a lot of benches to the second-floor corridor, pretending that you have just arrived here and had nothing to do with the mess in the workshop.

The next stop of your tour was also on the second floor. Once you have passed artfully carved wooden doors, your eyes grew almost as large as the chocolate bagel you have had earlier, for now, you were standing in a huge two-leveled hall that was filled with bookcases and speckled with work desks. Books. So many books that it almost made you forget about the one Ulren never tried to read for you. To think how much knowledge is encrypted in all this print... someone's going to have a hard time turning down your requests to read, ha!

While you were distracted by plotting, a pinky lizard tail drew your attention by disappearing between shelves. Seems like the mistresses' pet, and judging by the voices reaching you from another side of the hall, lady Rosaline and madam Holt were also here, browsing for whatever book they deemed needed. Not thinking long, Amalia brought you to them, engaging in conversation with the two ladies who seemed properly surprised by your presence. Probably you would have enjoyed talking to them, but the most you could do was to read their expressions during their exchange. Eventually, their collective focus of attention shifted to you, as they caught you staring at the book with a leathery maroon cover. Seeing that, Rosaline handed it to you and stood up to watch what would you do with it. The fact that you opened it, skimmed through the pages with unfamiliar text, and then stumbled watching at the hand-drawn illustration of the multitude of men shooting arrows from the coastal tower at the ship made her hesitantly write down a note in her papers before taking the book from you. You could tell that she wasn't expecting that. Regardless, after talking to the others a bit more, Amalia continued your little excursion, leaving the ladies to whatever brought them to the library in the first place.

The next stop was on the third floor, by the ornate closed doors. After making sure that she has your attention, Amalia gathered her hair to make an improvised tail and put on a mockingly smug grimace. Seems like she was trying to tell you that behind her were the quarters of the mistress. She didn't lead you there, though, just made sure you know for whatever reason she deemed necessary. Instead of violating others privacy, she led you to the large balcony facing the inner yard and a part of the city. By that time, the sun almost hid behind the crimson horizon, and both moons were already visible in the winter skies. Your glance drifted from the lights inside the inner yard glasshouse (that effectively occupied 2/3 of the whole inner yard space) to the black city roofs, from gothic spires to the illuminated city watchtower. The scenery was indeed picturesque. Perhaps, you even enjoyed it aesthetically. Both of you stood there until the city lights began to lit up, speckling otherwise dark urban silhouette. But then, Amalia made an awkward facepalming gesture and began to pull you back into the manor. It seemed like she remembered something and was now in haste because of that.

You figured out where she was leading you on the half way to the destination - seems like you were about to hit the mess hall (yay!). By the time of your arrival, a couple of scullions and a served deep dish with soup were waiting for you. Even the cook - the rather tall, lathy man clad in funny hat and apron - was looking at you from the entrance to the basement kitchen. Curious, you inspected the content of the bowl: spiced soup with dough-coated dumplings. Despite the unfamiliar look, the hearty dish tasted splendid. After devouring it, you mellowed on the chair. You were in the risk zone to grow spoiled by the local food. Perhaps, you even realized that, but it did not prevent you from trying to inquire via gesturing about that sweet fritter you tried out earlier. Regrettably, the only answer you got from the slightly amazed cook was a negative headshake. Bummer? Bummer.

But again, that mischievous spark glimmered in Amalia's eyes as she definitely came up with an idea. Unsurprisingly, that idea involved the softened and relaxed you following her to the doorway leading the inner yard. It took her a couple of minutes to find a lamp in one of the adjusted rooms, and with it lit she led you on the fresh air. Not for long, though, as she opened the door to the glasshouse and swiftly squeezed you and herself in. The purpose of this structure became known to you when she lifted up the lamp towards the leafy branches of the trees inside. You were now in an orangery. A big, glassy house full of vegetation that did not go dormant due to the controlled climate inside. You had a small cathartic moment after seeing the green of the trees, bushes, and potted plants. You can say that even the smell inside was different - sappy and rich. You took some time wandering among the rows of the labeled and carefully administered plants, brushing your fingers against the leaves. You really need to see this place in daylight. However, it became apparent that Amalia brought you here not just to gaze around when she carefully plucked a fruit and handed it to you. A round, reddish fruit with a firm peel.

That was the most picturesque and also the last place of interest you saw that day as your newfound friend led you back to your designated chamber, peeled the fruit for you, and left you in peace after the short time of silly attempts to "conversate". Content, satiated, and warm you flopped on the bed. Good things also happen, as it seems. So far, it was probably the best day you've had so far. Ulren also seemed rather relieved today, which meant that things were looking up for him as well. Once you thought about that, your glimpse slid to the window and the world beyond it; how was Sephorah doing, you wondered. And why did she left both of you shortly after passing the city walls? You could only hope to find the answers. But enough with all these thoughts. As you decided on taking the more proactive approach from tomorrow on, since you gain some degree of awareness from today, you dug yourself under the blanket and dozed off with a content grin.

_________________________
​

The transition to the next morning was easier compared to yesterday, and you even woke up before Claudius and his apprentice (?) came to check on your recovery. The wound was less troublesome than almost a week ago, and today you learned why - the bulky man was indeed in command of the body aspect, and his lay of hands on your hurt core made you experience a whole plethora of sensations: agitation, invigoration, a tiny spark of euphoria, and hunger. As if most of the energy of your frame gone on regenerating the tissues under Claudius' hands. Good thing: your otherwise troublesome injury was by now reduced to a nasty scratch with a thin scar. Bad thing: you felt like running wild and chasing a horse to bite a raw piece of its rear. Thankfully, you did not have to refer to something as radical, because once your daily treatment was over, you were led to kitchen (aka your presumably favorite place in the manor). Some meat, some bakery, some brew with strong herbal taste, no sweets. Not like you could complain though.

After having your breakfast, you were about to enjoy the freedom to plan activities. Alas, Lady Rosaline took you up to the lecturing hall through which you snuck out with Amalia yesterday. There was no one but her, her pet, you, a few books and some posters with tables. After a brief pause of uncertainty, she began to communicate with you via gestures, motions, and voice, leading you to the idea of inspecting the materials she brought with her intermediation. Rather slowly, the realization graced you: she was trying to teach you to understand and operate with symbols as well as sounds bound to them. She was trying to teach you the language. Inspired, you applied efforts... and, probably, made a mistake. When your eagerness to learn became obvious, she intensified both the pace of exercises as well as the complexity. She was clearly testing the boundaries of your cognitive capacities.

Ater a short lunch break, a few more hours of studying with lady Rosaline and lady Holt, who joined the efforts with her, you felt mightily squeezed of energy. They did, however, manage to ingrain into you the concept of the alphabet and some primitive words. Or did they? You've had that strange feeling again - the one that surfaced when Ulren was showing you how to treat basic wounds and which felt like not learning something new but remembering the faint traces of recollections you never made. Or, perhaps, you were just tired intellectually and thus having odd sensations.

By the time your first class was over it was already dark, and both of the ladies were now busy debating with each other in the lecturing room, albeit without you inbound. You were back in your room, staring through the window at the city and silhouettes of its inhabitants glimpsing under the city lanterns. Maybe your energy and enthusiasm were sapped for today, but there was still some time to spent productively. Or, perhaps, not so productively.

[] Fall asleep earlier.
You could deal with soreness in your limbs but not with the soreness in your brain.

[] Do something at the facility (specify the action in the vote)
-[] Bathroom
-[] Kitchen
-[] Salon
-[] Library
-[] Gymnasium
-[] Laboratory
-[] Lecture hall
-[] Greenery
-[] Your room
Climb on the nods? Flap your wings? Be mischievous? Study objects? Wait for people to stalk on? Search for interesting things? Search for books with illustrations? This place is massive and you can really go wild with your imagination and the sense of appropriate.

[] Inspect (read: sneak) this place on your own. (Easy (17) sneaking skill check no harsh repercussions if failed)
-[] The third floor
-[] The second floor
-[] The first floor
Amalia hasn't shown you the whole place. You have still plenty to explore.

[] Socialize with (mention the general attitude, the topics of interest or/and special actions like attempts to study a soul spark in the vote)
-[] Rosaline
-[] Ulren
-[] Amalia
-[] The kitchen personnel
You are a social creature and those whom you know will find that out very soon.

[] Write-in
You do have an idea of how to preoccupy yourself in an original way, don't you?​

 

[Teloch]

Being left to your own devices, you found yourself trying to resolve the conflict between your plans. A part of you wanted to ask Amalia to go to the bathroom and to help you enjoy more of steam and warm water. The other part (probably conscience) indicated that it was a day since the last time you communicated with Ulren. After your journey here, it felt a little bit awkward to spend a day without him being around. The last thing you wanted was him thinking that you dumped him as soon as your living conditions sharply improved. But that wonderful warm bath though... After barely suppressing the onslaught of more hedonistic urges, you set yourself up to find your friend. After studying his spark, it was easy to track his location: he was on the same floor as you, somewhere near lady Rosaline's chambers. Not thinking long, you ventured to see what was he doing.

Carefully navigating yourself through the corridor empty of others, you ended up peeking at your friend standing on the balcony from which you enjoyed the scenery yesterday. It was still new to you to see him unarmored: without the steel carapace, he was involuntarily showing off the constitutional features of his race. What added familiarity to the scene was his brooding look. Judging by his facial expression and body language, he felt nervous or impatient for something. Not as nervous as in the stone chapel about a week ago but surely with something that made him steam off the tension by drumming on the balcony railing with the fingers. Recalling how your intervention calmed him down in the previous instance, your choice of tactics was limited to the trusted trick.

Grinning deviously, you crouched behind him and then swooped at him, embracing clutching to his massive back and wrapping with the wings for some extra cute effect. Your "fling" predictably startled him for a second, but then he recognized what was going on. Knowing that he is more responsive while surprised, you snuggled under his arm and proceeded to the next step of your plan before he fully recovered to his melancholia.

"You... do gut?" you gibbered unconfidently, salvaging the words you heard from lady Rosaline (or, at least, how you remembered them) during today lesson in hopes that he would perceive your curiosity about his well-being correctly.

The curves of his mouth began to slowly elevate synchronically with the brows. In response, he spoke something in an inquiring tone. Something you failed to recognize.

You tried to ask him again after poking him in the chest with the finger and repeating the question with minor changes: "You Ul-ren... you gut do?"

He proved to be unable to contain a grin anymore and answered to you in a phrase from which you managed to dissect something like "I'm doing good". He supplemented his answer with the question addressed to you - the question containing the word "speak". Rosaline asked you to "speak" when you were learning the symbols and their pronunciations, so... was he asking you to speak those out for him?

"Spek? Uhh... A, be, ce, de, e, ef..." you began to speak those out loud with the smug face and apparently got the man snorting with laughter from your attempts at language. By the time you reached "N," he was too busy having fun, so you had nothing left to do but to let him calm down. Once he did so, you already prepared another question concerning something you wanted him to do days ago.

"You read... can?" you asked and flapped your eyelashes at him. Predictably, he wasn't exactly sure what did you want him to read, so instead of torturing him with your gibberish, you took him by the hand and led to the library. He followed you, albeit not that enthusiastically, and on a halfway there, you could say he understood what did you want from him. Perhaps, he felt like spending more time with you, or maybe he felt guilty for turning down your previous request to read. Regardless, soon enough you settled yourself down at one of the tables while he took a lamp and began to search for a fitting book midst this vault full of various print.

It took him quite some time to find something he deemed appropriate for you, and the lantern he held burned half of its liquid fuel by the time he sat close to you. What he found was a relatively small book with the worn green cover and a lot of pictures inside. In fact, wherever he opened it, the book contained a few lines of text on its left pages and pictures on those to the right. As it turned out later, his choice was very appropriate, given your limited ability to perceive text without any visual mediators. For the next hour, he patiently taught you the meaning of words by the pictures, knowingly or not putting your newly retrieved knowledge of letters to meaningful use, gluing and systematizing the pieces of knowledge Rosaline taught you today.

The best part of all was the fact that he was very patient with you, providing you with the needed "puzzle pieces" of this tale and giving you enough time to compose them to understand the plotline, which, in fact, turned out to be a parable about four sibling ravens who flew in different sides of the world after they grew old enough to leave the nest, with each one of them meeting their fate depending on the actions taken at a certain point. The one that flew to the East had to endure the drought, saving itself from the death by dehydration by using pebbles to raise the level of water in the almost empty pitcher. The one that flew Westward was enjoying its easy and satiated life on the plains until it decided to prey on a sleeping serpent and died of the poisonous bite of the startled sake. The one that flew to the South eventually established a nest of its own on a tree that also sheltered a beetle with its nest. The truce lasted until the beetle eggs began to hatch and the raven decided to feed on the larvas. In the act of vengeance, the beetle snuck into raven's nest and rolled the bird's eggs out from it. The last of the avian siblings that Flew to the North fell sick and hungry but was rescued and nursed by a kind farmer. In return, the raven repaid by settling near and fooling other birds to not eat farmer's crops because they were poisoned and allegedly became the reason of its sickness.

Despite the story being very short, it took you quite some time to decipher and learn all the new words so they would provide with the context, and somewhere along the process, the lantern ran out of fuel, causing you to conjure a gently glowing spark to substitute. It was not only the process of intermediated "reading" that contributed to your enjoyment - the quiet atmosphere of you and your friendly giant sitting in a library at night and reading to fables under the arcane light felt fabulous on itself. You enjoyed this endeavor so much that when the story ended, you made a pleading face in the attempt to go for another one but, unfortunately, your ill-timed yawn sabotaged the attempt and persuaded Ulren to send you back to your bed instead of sitting with you until midnight and beyond.

Still thinking about all the new word you've learned from the story and about the parable itself, you crawled under your blanket. You had a hard time believing in the reality of the tale (why would there be a half-empty pitcher amidst a dry place and why haven't you seen any birds that were able to talk to people or other animals?), you could recognize the lessons it tried to convey: don't prey for seemingly easy fortune but be ingenious; don't turn on others but seek for mutual gains. Did Ulren pick this fable in particular so you could deduce these lessons? Was this choice of his an aimed method of reaching you past the language barrier and ignorance of such complex concepts as moral? Did he try to ingrain those lessons even though they seemed contradicting to what you saw in this realm until now? Maybe. Maybe, while being introduced to the language spoken by these people, you'd have a chance to ask him soon enough.

Tired of all the learning and thinking, but also satisfied by the progress and all the attention you were given today, you snugged under the blanket and dozed off.

________________________
​

The new day turned out to be different from the previous one from the early hours - after having breakfast (some red funny meat in dough batter), you were predictably taken to the lecturing room where lady Rosaline and Holt were already preparing another language lesson for you. Today, Rosaline was... not in the best shape, speaking politely. Her eyes were red with blood, skin paler than usual, her breath was obviously odorous smelling strange, and she struggled to concentrate, getting irritated at any sudden or loud noise. Was she unwell? Or maybe she was sick? Despite your concerns, she stoically taught you about new words and numerics up until noon. Then, unfortunately, she depleted the remains of her strengths, instructing lady Erika to continue the lesson in her absence. And the latter did so... for about an hour, after which she ended your class for today and left the lecture hall with the springy gait and a bit mischievous smile on her face. It seems like you'll have more free time for this day.

Two actions available

[] Fall asleep earlier.
You woke up like a few hours ago!

[] Do something at the facility (specify the action in the vote)
-[] Bathroom
-[] Kitchen
-[] Salon
-[] Library
-[] Gymnasium
-[] Laboratory
-[] Lecture hall
-[] Greenery
-[] Your room
Seek for conversationalists? Study the places for their functions and curious objects? Make the daily work of maidens harder by littering with your feathers everywhere? Tidy your room like a good girl you supposedly are? Again, you are limited only with the actions limit, your imagination, and your sense of appropriate.

[] Inspect (read: sneak) this place on your own. (Easy (17) sneaking skill check no harsh repercussions if failed)
-[] The third floor
-[] The second floor
-[] The first floor
Amalia hasn't shown you the whole place. You have still plenty to explore.

[] Socialize with (mention the general attitude, the topics of interest or/and special actions like attempts to study a soul spark in the vote)
-[] Rosaline
-[] Ulren
-[] Amalia
-[] The kitchen personnel
Yesterday night of bedtime story reading was pleasant enough for you to seek for more social interactions today.

[] Write-in
You do have an idea of how to preoccupy yourself in an original way, don't you?​