Magical Girl Home Base Quest

Basically, the Anglo-saxons invaded, intermarried with Celtic women, and thus Old English was created, essentially a variation of German. Then the Vikings invaded, and raped a bunch of the English, until they finally got driven off, leaving behind a bunch of Scandinavian words. Then the Normans (French speaking vikings) invaded and conquered all of England. Thus establishing a two caste level between the Saxons (who spoke Old English) and the Normans (who spoke French). Which is why English often has both Germanic and French derived words for the same thing. It's also why English speakers call foods differently depending on whether it's in the field, or on the dinner plate.
The language is a clusterfuck because it was born from one?
 
I'm hoping that having Joselyn's body in stasis in the lab won't affect the MC's medical capability since it looks like some missions went badly.
I think it just leaves the main character no worse off than they were before- restricted to doing meatball surgery in a hopefully clean room, albeit with a bit more expertise than he had the last time he patched up Trompdoy.

The language is a clusterfuck because it was born from one?
The language was born as a chain of clusterfucks piling up on top of each other, merging into a single revolving lava lamp of crazy, and then randomly reaching out across the world to steal loan words from just about every language it could find in the general vicinity of a coastline.
 
Omake 1: Stop in the name of the sign
For those of you who enjoy such things, have an omake! I have been sitting on this for a few weeks until finally deciding to put it here for your perusal. I'm not a native English speaker and this has obviously not been betaed, so read at your own peril.

OMAKE: Insane world requires insane fortifications.

A strange gurgling chitter echoed in an empty park. It was accompanied by more human, but still incomprehensible, screaming and rapid thuds.

The spidery monster's wails grew even more high-pitched as the enraged teenager hit it again and again. Yellowish ichor splattered everywhere as she repeatedly brought down her heavy, metal pole.

Still, despite her victory, Taylor was despairing. It had all went so wrong.

The bent signpost slipped from her nerveless fingers, clattering loudly against the broken asphalt, and she fell onto her knees. She couldn't stop the desperate tears from bursting out. Taylor's whole body shook and her ruined make-up ran down her cheeks in dark rivulets.

Not twenty feet from her lay a mangled body of another magical girl. Her agonized screams had died minutes ago and she was now silent and dead to the world. Anne's limbs were bent unnaturally and her rasping breath bubbled with blood. Taylor didn't want to think about it, but deep inside she knew her friend wouldn't live to see the sunrise. Further away, on the other side of the park, her neighbour had been disemboweled and his intestines turned into a make-shift summoning circle.

Her fist slammed against the ground.

Weren't the heroes supposed to triumph over the forces of darkness! Why did it have to end like this? Why?!

Her despondent mental tirade got sidetracked when a gloved hand squeezed her shoulder. "Calm down, girl. You are hyperventilating."

She twisted violently, yanking herself free from the new attacker. Her fingers tightened around the viscera-coated signpost and, once she rose from her somersault, she swung the pole around like a giant axe.

Metal screeched as her furious strike was intercepted with terrifyingly casual ease and impossible strength, a luminous golden sword sinking more than half way into her steel pole.

Taylor stared at her new opponent. It was not a monstrous demon, regular gangster or even drug-fuelled cultist, but a fellow magical girl. Her green dress was bright and lacy, her sword glowed with inner light and she even had shimmering filigree wings of silver.

And she was flanked by three more girls, all battle ready and equally well equipped. They looked like they could have come straight out of pages of any Mahou Shoujo manga.

"Well, that was somewhat more violent than excepted," the magical girl stated calmly, before taking a step back and lowering her blazing sword. "Anyway, we can help your wounded friend." She turned to one of the other girls. "Mistletoe, you have the healing potion, yeah?"

The one named Mistletoe saluted lazily. "I got it!"

Hope bloomed in Taylor's heart. "There's this man who-"

"We saw him," the winged one interrupted her. "He's gone. I'm sorry."

She closed her eyes, trying her best to avoid bursting into tears again, and took a deep, shuddering breath. Taylor had barely known the man, but she knew he had a wife and a pair of kids a few years younger than her…

"But you can help Anne?" She asked, her voice creaky, when Mistletoe knelt next to her friend and brought out a small glass bottle filled with red fluid.

"That's her real name, right? No real names; only aliases, New Girl," the older girl snapped. "That's your new name, by the way. You can call me Rose the Entangling. These two sidekicks are Rider and Trickster."

"Fuck you too, asshole," one of them muttered, but her words lacked any real heat.

"I aim to brighten your day," Rose replied flippantly, before refocusing back to her. "And yeah, the potion will keep her alive until the Keeper can patch her up more properly."

"The Keeper?"

"It's short for innkeeper. Although, a lot of people still call him Medicine Boy or Sevenfingers. He's an artificer who also manages a hostel for magical girls."

Suddenly a wet cough caught her attention. Anne was held in a sitting position on the cracked tarmac and Mistletoe was gently pouring the potion into her mouth.

"Anne!"

"No real names, New Girl!"

***

After a half hour's drive Taylor was happy to get out of the hobo-driven minibus that smelled way too strongly of mold and weed. The cool wind felt refreshing against her face and helped to dry her tears.

She sniffed and wiped her nose with her sleeve. No doubt she looked absolutely pathetic to the other girls…

Anne still couldn't walk and was carried out on an army surplus stretcher by Rider and Trickster, but at least her breathing was steady now.

Taylor tried to ignore the fact that Mistletoe casually passed a small plastic bag filled with something green to their shabbily-dressed driver. She presumed it was his reward for ferrying them around.

"So, where are we?" she asked instead and looked around suspiciously. Even ignoring the obvious drug trade happening right next to her, they were clearly not in a good neighbourhood. Although the last few weeks had taught her that magical girling was a rather more gruesome business than advertised, it was still a strange place for a supposed stronghold of light.

In response, Rose clasped Taylor's chin and turned her head a bit. "Welcome to Casa del Chicas Brujas!"

"What are you tal-," she started to ask, before she could suddenly see. Somehow she hadn't even noticed the large building, despite being right next to it, until the other girl had forced her to pay attention in its general direction.

"The first layer of the seven-stage ward makes people ignore anything that happens inside. You saw through the enchantment pretty quick," Trickster commented from behind her. "Most girls take like a half minute."

Now that she could see the place, it was rather eye-catching. Although not in a way she would have expected.

Surrounding the decrepit four-story building was a ring of truncated pyramids of reinforced concrete, large stones and giant metal caltrops welded out of rusty I-beams. They were clearly staggered and spaced in such a manner that they would stop any truck or even a tank trying to drive though. Interspersed among the anti-tank obstacles were more barbed wire than she had ever seen in her life.

The building itself looked more like a military headquarters from the second world war than an inn for runaway girls. All first floor windows had been replaced by corroded steel panels with only narrow vertical viewing slits and even the higher floors' windows had metal bars. She could see a half dozen surveillance cameras attached to the walls and the roof. All the dirt and flaking paint made even the reinforced front door look rather intimidating.

The concrete balconies were fortified with shoddy brickwork and had large holes cut in the middle, turning them into machinegun nests. There were even large searchlights installed.

"The lawn is filled with Soviet anti-tank and anti-personnel mines," Rose the entangling said matter-of-factly as she walked past Taylor, which really didn't calm the nerves of the younger girl. "So stay on the path marked by the stones. Unless, of course, you are secretly evil, which will trigger the explosive runes carved into the cobblestones."

Taylor stood still for a second before following her. It was way too late back out now and Anne still desperately needed medical care. She had no other choice but to trust these shady magical girls, even though they seemed less and less trustworthy.

Rose pressed the intercom which beeped a second later. "Who are your new friends?" The voice was distorted by the poor quality of the speaker, but it still clearly belonged to a young woman.

"When we found the demonologists, they were already fighting a duo of magical girls," Rose reported. "We are all alright and the cell got wiped out, but the locals got a beating. One WIA. She needs immediate medical care. Open the door, Ferra."

"A moment," the voice from the intercom spoke. A few seconds later, Taylor could hear the metallic screeches of someone sliding multiple heavy latches, before the lock clicked and the door opened.

When their group walked in she was faced with a dozen girls pointing a bizarre assortment of magical wands, medieval weapons, and modern firearms at her. From the sight of it, they had been lazing on ragged couches, watching football from a wide-screen telly, and gorging themselves on various snacks and drinks. Despite all this they seemed ready to unleash some ultra-violence at the drop of a hat.

The door clicked shut behind her but the girls never lowered their weapons and their eyes remained hard. For a moment the only sound in the room was the commentator's exited voice coming from the television.

Then someone cleared their throat on the other side of the lobby.

A teenage boy in a time-worn suit sat behind what passed for a reception desk and, apparently, a bar. Instead of having a front panel, the table's underside was filled with sandbags. Behind him was a pair of large wooden cabinets fully stocked with a wide variety bottles in all shapes and colours …and a whole bunch of different hand grenades, for some reason.

The boy had clearly been in the process of cleaning a shotgun, but unlike the other residents, he hadn't felt any need to point it at her.

"Ferra, fetch the Keeper," he ordered as he rose up. As the boy walked closer, Taylor could see that his eyes were just clear beads of glass, but somehow he didn't really move like he was blind. "Eowyn, Trompdoy, take her to the medical room. And you others, please stop scaring the new girl."

One by one the weapons pointed at her were sheathed, holstered or, in a few cases, unsummoned, and the girls turned back to their regular entertainment. Some continued to stare at her, apparently unwilling to show their back to her.

"You will have to forgive them. Things have been a bit tense lately with the fish-people and they like to use brain-washed infiltrators," the young man said. His tone was gentle, but it the words themselves weren't reassuring at all.

"I'm Homer the Scribe," he introduced himself with a small nod, before motioning towards one of the hallways. "Come, you look like you could use some hot drink."

"I want to go with An- my friend," she said resolutely, looking at the direction Anne was being carried.

The boy let out a small sigh and placed his hand on her shoulder, giving her a gentle squeeze. "I know you want to help her or at least see that she's okay, but there's a good reason why hospitals don't let people into emergency rooms. Unless you have a healing power, you would only be on their way."

***

She had protested for a while, but eventually Taylor found herself in the kitchen, sitting on a creaky chair, with a mug of steaming cocoa in her hands and a gaggle of curious girls surrounding her.

"So, is this place under siege or something?" she eventually asked.

The boy stopped nursing his own cup of coffee. "Not really, no," he said with a shrug. "The witches used to bother us quite a lot, but they have gone literally underground and now haunt the abandoned metro. The last serious attack was more than a year ago, when the Jade Court vampires drove a bus filled with ghouls through the front door."

"The alchemists did send a pair of homunculi strapped with some cursed incendiaries last month," Mistletoe added, "but the only thing they managed to do was burn lawn and scorch the paint on a wall."

"My wards stopped that attack cold and it had no hope of success. The East-Side Alchemists were just probing and it only cost them two already expiring dolls," Homer said, before turning back at Taylor and noticing her expression. "Is something wrong?"

"Wrong?" Taylor mouthed. "I have only fought against the demon cultists and their demons and mooks, but you are saying that there are mind-controlling fish-people, blood-sucking vampires, underground witches, and even morally bankrupt alchemists!? What's wrong with this city!?"

There was a second of silence before the entire room burst into laughter.
 
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For those of you who enjoy such things, have an omake! I have been sitting on this for a few weeks until finally deciding to put it here for your perusal. I'm not a native English speaker and this has obviously not been betaed, so read at your own peril.
That was very nice look into our possible future, especially that ending punchline. But you didn't need to put it into a quote box. I'd also recommend giving it a title.
 
Well now, what's this? An omake?

And she was flanked by three more girls, all battle ready and equally well equipped. They looked like they could have come straight out pages of any Mahou Shoujo manga.



In response, Rose clasped Taylor's chin and turned her head a bit. "Welcome to Casa del Chicas Brujas!"

This is a bit of a malproper translation, but it's not cursed TL tier. I'd probably say 'Casa del brujas jóvenes" which is "home of the young sorcerers" or possibly "Casa del chicas mágicas" which would be a bit more literal: "home of the magical girls". You could also replace "Casa" with "Hostal" or "Albergue" respectively, making it a hostel or a refuge.

Taylor tried to ignore the fact that Mistletoe casually passed a small plastic bag filled with something green to their shabbily-dressed driver. She presumed it was his reward for ferrying them around.

I was saving this for later, but yeah, dead on the money there. Magical girls will absolutely use drugs as a payment medium.

Surrounding the decrepit four-story building was a ring of truncated pyramids of reinforced concrete, large stones and giant metal caltrops welded out of rusty I-beams. They were clearly staggered and spaced in such a manner that they would stop any truck or even a tank trying to drive though. Interspersed among the anti-tank obstacles were more barbed wire than she had ever seen in her life.

The building itself looked more like a military headquarters from the second world war than an inn for runaway girls. All first floor windows had been replaced by rusted steel panels with only narrow vertical viewing slits and even the higher floors' windows had metal bars. She could see a half dozen surveillance cameras attached to the walls and the roof. All the rust and flaking paint made even the reinforced front door look rather intimidating.

The concrete balconies were fortified with shoddy brickwork and had large holes cut in the middle, turning them into machinegun nests. There were even large searchlights installed.

"The lawn is filled with Soviet anti-tank and anti-personnel mines," Rose the entangling said matter-of-factly as she walked past Taylor, which really didn't assure the younger girl. "So stay on the path marked by the stones. Unless, of course, you are secretly evil, which will trigger the explosive runes carved into the cobblestones. "

Not only is this overkill to the point of being a ridiculous drain on resources (as in a good Czech Hedgehog is like 8 mundanes per and it takes a week to make six) the defensive layout is ass-backwards!


With safe path in green, ward in orange, AV mines in red, AP mines in purple, barbed wire in yellow, and Czech Hedgehogs in blue. Basically, anything that can punch through a good solid seven-layer ward has the engineering tools to deal with everything else inside this magical fence. Something like a dragon- because a dragon is the low end of "brute force a ward" scale- would just fly over this stuff, and an Alchemist attack group that managed to bypass the ward can literally clear the minefields with Bangalore torpedoes while under covering fire from artillery.

Defending the hostel is hard, mostly because you have no space and most of the space you do have is tarmac. This leads to most of the defenses being magical in nature, and when they become releveant there will be votes on it.

Also, roof cameras? Ain't nobody got money for that!

The boy had clearly been in the process of cleaning a shotgun, but unlike the other residents, he hadn't felt any need to point it at her.

"Ferra, fetch the Keeper," he ordered as he rose up. As the boy walked closer, Taylor could see that his eyes were just clear beads of glass, but he didn't really move like he was blind. "Eowyn, Trompdoy, take her to the medical room. And you others, please stop scaring the new girl."

ahahahaha implying anyone trusts Homer, the blind guy, with a gun. Ohhhh that's a laugh.

(not saying he couldn't hit shit; point at noise and pull trigger works suprisingly well. The issue is when you shoot your friends because of an accident or something)

The East-Side Alchemists

*Looks at map*
*raises finger*
*lowers finger*

I mean that could work, but hmmm. Very hmmmm.

All in all @Random Shinobi pretty good work!
 
Not only is this overkill to the point of being a ridiculous drain on resources (as in a good Czech Hedgehog is like 8 mundanes per and it takes a week to make six) the defensive layout is ass-backwards!
"Overkill" is a pauper's word. It is used by those who fear to apply overwhelming force too often lest they run out. When one has mastered efficient resource management, every kill is made with the certainty of overkill.


Basically, anything that can punch through a good solid seven-layer ward has the engineering tools to deal with everything else inside this magical fence. Something like a dragon- because a dragon is the low end of "brute force a ward" scale- would just fly over this stuff, and an Alchemist attack group that managed to bypass the ward can literally clear the minefields with Bangalore torpedoes while under covering fire from artillery.

Defending the hostel is hard, mostly because you have no space and most of the space you do have is tarmac. This leads to most of the defenses being magical in nature, and when they become releveant there will be votes on it.
So instead of mines and stuff, we need something more like AA guns and artillery? Maybe a few dozen batteries of fireworks with magical bombs in the tips? Tie the fuses together, rig up a contraption that lets you point them all in the same direction, and send a dozen T3+ bombs hurtling towards whoever was dumb enough to breach all those wards. Even better, do it while they're trying to breach the wards, so that they're a stationary target. Maybe design the inner wards specifically to take as much time as possible to break, and an outer ward that just warns the defenders when someone breaks it.
 
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This is a bit of a malproper translation, but it's not cursed TL tier. I'd probably say 'Casa del brujas jóvenes" which is "home of the young sorcerers" or possibly "Casa del chicas mágicas" which would be a bit more literal: "home of the magical girls". You could also replace "Casa" with "Hostal" or "Albergue" respectively, making it a hostel or a refuge.
I would like you to know that it was this one guy named 7734 who came up with that name. I simply copied it. You may direct all complains and comments to him.

I was saving this for later, but yeah, dead on the money there. Magical girls will absolutely use drugs as a payment medium
I will admit it. I put that scene in just because found the idea of magical girl drug-pushers hilarious.

Not only is this overkill to the point of being a ridiculous drain on resources (as in a good Czech Hedgehog is like 8 mundanes per and it takes a week to make six) the defensive layout is ass-backwards!
I kinda imagined it so that only the notice-me-not ward covered the whole property, while the actual magical defenses hugged the building to conserve power.

ahahahaha implying anyone trusts Homer, the blind guy, with a gun. Ohhhh that's a laugh.
You probably missed it, but Homer did have magical eyes in the omake.

*Looks at map*
*raises finger*
*lowers finger*

I mean that could work, but hmmm. Very hmmmm.
Firstly, I spent like two seconds coming up with that generic name. Secondly, do you actually have map?
 
So Homer's eyes are the "payment" or "price" he paid to get his magic crafting powers, akin to Medicine Boy's fingers.

Well, that sound reasonable anyway.
If that's the way they gained their powers, then gaining artificer skills that way sounds pretty much like facing with Truth in Full Metal Alchemist.
 
Hm.

There's one known artificer other than Medicine Boy and Homer, and that's... uh, the girl who was making costumes in the garage sidestory. I forget her name off the top of my head for now.

It'd be interesting to find out if she had to make some kind of injury or sacrifice. I don't remember seeing/hearing any evidence of it.
 
Hm.

There's one known artificer other than Medicine Boy and Homer, and that's... uh, the girl who was making costumes in the garage sidestory. I forget her name off the top of my head for now.

It'd be interesting to find out if she had to make some kind of injury or sacrifice. I don't remember seeing/hearing any evidence of it.

If she's a skill-based girl, it might be her one special skill. Like Mistletoe has her once-per-day killshot.
 
Btw, pretty sure Homer's a seer, not an artesian like us. Different character class. He can make scrolls, but that's within the bounds of magical girl powers as Ouroboros could do it. Of course, taking the powers a four hundred year old magical girl channeling the Great Time Snek may not give a fair picture of things.

QM said upgrading the car would be on his upgrade path, which points to some item powers, but also that it wouldn't really be on ours, so who knows what that means.
 
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We don't need to restore Homer's sight, his scroll work has zero need for him to see. Depending on the magic at work, it could even be detrimental to him.

So instead, work around it. Make a construct that does it for him, like a magical seeing eye dog, or a doll that whispers to him what there is to see. Or take advantage of his blindness, and how his other senses are growing sharper to make up for it. A gadget that takes his hearing up to levels where echolocation is possible, or his sense of smell so sharp he knows who's in the next two rooms over and what their last meal was.

Trying to fix what broke is only one path, and frankly it's one well trodden. Better to try new things and see what can be done with them.
 
So Homer's eyes are the "payment" or "price" he paid to get his magic crafting powers, akin to Medicine Boy's fingers.
I just want to remind people he already had his magic stuff before he lost his eyes, given that he lost his eyes while using his magic stuff to mess up the Witch Ritual Grounds, remember?
 
I just want to remind people he already had his magic stuff before he lost his eyes, given that he lost his eyes while using his magic stuff to mess up the Witch Ritual Grounds, remember?
Similarly the same is true for Medicine Boy. He healed up his first Magical Girl at eight and given the flow of the first chapter that is strongly implied to be before he lost his fingers.

It is just Medicine Boy was a stupid child and played with fireworks, including lighting them in his hand:
You learned about magic when you were eight years old. It was a balmy afternoon, just after the Fourth of July, and you were with your cousins shooting off fireworks in the park. That wasn't the magic, though. Magic was in the eyes of a older girl, a teenager, who marveled at you as you lit a firework shell with one hand, before gracefully throwing it down a gas pipe mortar to send it soaring into the air.
with recklessness like that an accident was inevitable.



Going by:
While it's not mentioned in-narrative yet, consider what Medicine Boy could have done with an explosion to take off his right index, left pinkie, and left ring fingers all at the same time and what sort of hand placement you'd be looking at for that.
I'd guess he was either trying to cover something or shield something (like his face) from an explosion. Because the only arrangement I can think of that puts those three fingers next to each other is right hand parallel with left hand, touching index to pinky, with the ring thumb tucked out of the way.
 
If she's a skill-based girl, it might be her one special skill. Like Mistletoe has her once-per-day killshot.
I guess doing some item crafting could be her Rare Skill, but that seems a lot more divergent than Mistletoe's Rare Skill. Mistletoe's special ability is a combat ability meant to be used on enemies, which is in keeping with the general theme of "magical girls fight."

Now, we can be confident that there isn't some gendered thing going on where only boys can craft and only girls can use Wholesome Non-Evil Fight Magic, because we have the example of the New Orleans crafter who made the Level 3 Bomb of Drowning, and of the girl who sews costumes for Elise's crew.

Going by:

I'd guess he was either trying to cover something or shield something (like his face) from an explosion. Because the only arrangement I can think of that puts those three fingers next to each other is right hand parallel with left hand, touching index to pinky, with the ring thumb tucked out of the way.
Yeah. If both hands were clasped around something and a chunk blew out, it could slice through those three fingers and no others.

Imagine holding a baseball bat. Your hands are 'stacked,' and the index finger of one hand is right up adjacent to the little and ring fingers of the other. Now, I'm pretty sure that a proper baseball bat grip puts the right hand on top normally, so it wouldn't be exactly the same. But the reverse of that grip, with the left on top and the right on the bottom, would position someone where they could lose specifically those three fingers to a single debris strike or impact.
 
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And then it turns out it removes all hair so the hairs inside the ear are gone, so now you're deaf

Yep. The best part is that depending on how someone gets their ability depends on how this kicks in, too. That reaches too close to my Core Concept folder to cover the how's and why's in detail, but I can say that there's an element of conceptual weight in it as well. If you were to be sacrificing your hair because it is beautiful, defining it as taking your hair wouldn't target the hairs in your eardrum since that isn't hair as how you defined the term. Rather, that would be part and parcel of your hearing, which would be how you perceive beauty. If you were to sacrifice your hair because "well I don't need it" then hair as a component will be targeted and removed from your entire body; including your eardrums. This would also fuck over your balance, leaving you in eternal vertigo.

Now, we can be confident that there isn't some gendered thing going on where only boys can craft and only girls can use Wholesome Non-Evil Fight Magic, because we have the example of the New Orleans crafter who made the Level 3 Bomb of Drowning, and of the girl who sews costumes for Elise's crew.

You also have the reverse example of Melchior, who cast magic in battle against the Magical Girl team. While crafting versus fighting aren't exclusive traits nor gender-tied ones, they do strongly correlate with gender. I have to resist the urge to spoil the update here, but magic is inherently shaped by one's view of it and their conceptualization of it.

If the roll hadn't fucked Joselyn over, the next vote would have been the path to guide her magic on in recovery. While she started as someone who worked magic externally, through the work of literally having chunks of Tyrfang buried in her and being exposed to so much internalization of magic would give her the choice to accept her nature and become a Magical Girl; or she could choose your instruction and help to work on controlling the magic embedded in her externally, becoming an Artifacer like Medicine Boy.

If Joselyn became a Magical Girl, her theme would be [Evil] and her tags would be [Malchance] and [Blood] culminating in her final form gaining access to the clear Andvaranaut and the ability to curse wealth to become Rhinegold.

If Joselyn became an Artificer, her strength would be Bombs, and her tags would be [Tragedy] and [Deception] culminating in a Masterwork Bomb that would fortell the doom of whoever would drink it, telling the true future that pierces the veil of divination.
 
Honestly, with regards to Jocelyn, I'll be satisfied with fucking over the designs the Alchemists had with her. Giving her a human life back free from the Sword of Damocles that hung over her would be as good of a prize for me as either of those two other paths. This *is* after all a quest entirely about dragging the setting kicking and screaming from the edge of the abyss into the light.

Hell. Who knows, maybe she'll get lucky and be able to go a third path.

I wonder if magic can have themes like Redemption.
 
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