Never Full: A Tale of Adventure, Curiosity and Hunger Without Ending [Original Quest]

[Gingganz]

[X] "Oh, I don't want the beef," you hasten to assure them. "I just want to know where I can find a certain buyer."

Never trust a devil. It's a bad idea in general, and they will consider it an insult to their cleverness.

 

[Eiral]

[X] "Oh, I don't want the beef," you hasten to assure them. "I just want to know where I can find a certain buyer."

If there is a moment to not be honest it's certainly this one.

 

[Nevill]

[x] "Oh, I don't want the beef," you hasten to assure them. "I just want to know where I can find someone who may have bought some. Specifically, I'm looking for somewhere called the Scab Palace."

I always found that particular conjecture shaky:

Holy beef being trafficked through unholy routes in the city... you might actually be able to make use of that. It's a thin, thin lead, but anyone who'd been associated with a haruspex like Loupe might potentially count as the type of unscrupulous customer who'd buy a dead sacred bull's meat. You'll need to move canny about that, but it could be a more or less direct path to Mock Vey, if you play your tokens right.

Click to shrink...

Just because we received a job from Loupe we thought there could be a connection betwen the sacred beef and Mock Vey?

Still, we have our hypothesis, let's work with it.

Edit: then again, given that we are supposed to raid the place and they might come looking for perpetrators, better not.

[x] "Oh, I don't want the beef," you hasten to assure them. "I just want to know where I can find a certain buyer."

 

[Espernyan]

[X] Write in why you want the beef. ("Because you're a collector, and I'm looking for information on a buyer. Perhaps, if you could point me in the right direction, I could deliver blessed bone and beef to your eager hands.")

Oh no, they're hot

 

[boo600]

(Facepalms)

(Internal Screaming Intensifies)

(I don't even)

 

[Wicked Sanguine]

"Oh, I don't want the beef," you hasten to assure them. "I just want to know where I can find a certain buyer."
After much internal disputation, you've decided to play this one canny, close to the chest. There's nothing you can gain by being open and honest with the Factor at this point, you've decided, that outweighs the potential downsides of letting a stranger (a gorgeous stranger with a voice you could listen to all day, but a stranger nonetheless) aligned with a traditional enemy of your people know exactly what you're looking for and where you plan to look.
"A certain buyer, you say? Well, if you're coming to me first, I gather you desire my help in tracking, and must feel terribly disappointed that I directed you to what surely must be your natural next step. However, I believe I have something to offer you, in exchange for your aid in dealing with Big Yan, who I'm quite afraid might not stoop to breaking bread and trading coin with me and mine."
The Factor stretches languidly (your eyes following the way their body flexes under the suit) and pours two small glasses full of liquid such a pure transparent gold that it almost seems to glow. The smell of honey and strong liquor fills the air.
"Here, drink with me."
You take a cautious sip, and your eyes widen. Honey and fire, time and wood and patience, green fields and polished decanters, wrapped up in an explosion of sweet light like molten gold. The Factor smiles at the obvious look on your face before taking a sip of their own, sighing in appreciation.
"Refined mead from the Slow Hills, in the easternmost possessions of Yasaal. They are a fascinating folk up there, Grail, so simultaneously advanced and repressed, and while mead may not have come from them they may just have perfected the stuff. It's ideal fuel for some serious dickering."
They take a second sip, place the glass on the desk, and crack their knuckles.
"So let's deal."

"I am extremely interested in those sacred cattle, Grail. The blood, the hide, the beef, all would be absolutely delightful to me, bringing smiles to my face, sparks to my eyes, and a most welcome energy to my efforts in the bedroom as my inmost flame is stoked to excitable heat. However, I am most interested in the skulls of such creatures. So I will offer you these terms as part of this deal, so you may derive some of what you desire from this interaction. Go to see Big Yan. Ask what you will, divine as you please, but acquire yourself a portion of the dear departed carcasses of the holy cattle of Savnok, preferably a skull with intact horns, but horns, blood, hooves, a good steak or some hide would also serve my purposes admirably. Bring it back to me and remand it into my care. And I will work for you a tracing divination and give you a list of those who have bought such blessed beeves. Is this a deal you find acceptable, Grail? Or shall we dicker more?"
[ ] Accept the deal as is.
[ ] Dicker further.

You leave the office of the Factor some time later, head swimming from the combined influence of the mead, trying not to react to how pretty the Factor is, and the serious dealing you got up to. Heading down the staircase to the first floor, mind full of thoughts and gut full of possibly the most expensive thing that's ever gone down your gullet, your train of thought wanders.
All of this preparation for a smash and grab job brings you back to the first big job you ever really did, back when you were just a kid.
You were a few years into your First Treatment, bored of small jobs stealing from corpses and derelicts or hunting small game for hides and meat, and ready for something big. Rubble and Ember, your crew and friends since before your Firsts, were just as restless as you, and the three of you were getting ready to do something reckless and dumb, like raid a shop or go after a bigger monster, like a rat sovereign or a worm ogre. And then you came across a note on a gargoyle's body, a plan to knock over one of the upper-level vaults, get away with enough weapons and treasure to set you up for months, knock you up to Second years ahead of the usual curve. It was perfect. Well, now you know it was so vague and potentially risky that there's really no reason any of you should have survived. But you were young! Dumb! Full of hunger and the old fire in the belly. So you began preparations, plans, who you'd have to bribe, who you'd have to kill, what to avoid and what to dodge and what to put a knife or a bullet through. Considering how young you all were and what you know about the degree of planning required for what you were getting into, you're quite frankly amazed that you're still here to tell the tale. Tribulations know that so many your age that got even half as ambitious weren't as lucky... and that almost all of them had nobody to tell their stories or remember their names.
You remember...
[ ] Struggling to get past the traps and guards outside the building. It took all of you together to make it in. (Grail remembers being part of a team, and desires more of that feeling of cameraderie.)
[ ] The bloody mess that the muscle made of all of you as you tried to get to the vault... and how you never wanted to be that helpless again. (Grail remembers being a victim, and is charged further to never let it happen again.)
[ ] The bloody mess you made of those guard beasts, and the feeling of bone cracking between your teeth. (Grail remembers the true joy to be found in life-or-death struggle and savagery, and craves more.)
[ ] The weeks afterward trying to pick up the pieces and trying to make yourself something capable of getting new work. (Grail remembers the malaise and helplessness of failure, and becomes more strongly motivated to win at any cost.)
[ ] Glaive, and how they saved you all from almost getting yourselves killed at the hands of that 6th with the dorsal worms. (Grail remembers her old friend and the bittersweetness of rescue, and is motivated to seek both reconnection and partnership.)
[ ] The way they all let you down when you needed it most, and how you had to get by with your sheer grit. Even after you came back together, part of you never trusted them again. (Grail remembers being let down and becomes further resolved to be reliant on herself and nobody else.)

 

[veekie]

[X] Accept the deal as is.

[X] Glaive, and how they saved you all from almost getting yourselves killed at the hands of that 6th with the dorsal worms. (Grail remembers her old friend and the bittersweetness of rescue, and is motivated to seek both reconnection and partnership.)

 

[Nevill]

[x] Accept the deal as is.
[x] The bloody mess you made of those guard beasts, and the feeling of bone cracking between your teeth. (Grail remembers the true joy to be found in life-or-death struggle and savagery, and craves more.)

 

[Eiral]

[x] Accept the deal as is.
[x] The bloody mess you made of those guard beasts, and the feeling of bone cracking between your teeth. (Grail remembers the true joy to be found in life-or-death struggle and savagery, and craves more.)

 

[djd]

[X] Accept the deal as is.

[X] Glaive, and how they saved you all from almost getting yourselves killed at the hands of that 6th with the dorsal worms. (Grail remembers her old friend and the bittersweetness of rescue, and is motivated to seek both reconnection and partnership.)

 

[piebox]

[X] Accept the deal as is.
[X] Struggling to get past the traps and guards outside the building. It took all of you together to make it in. (Grail remembers being part of a team, and desires more of that feeling of cameraderie.)

 

[CptKirk215]

X] Accept the deal as is.
[X] Struggling to get past the traps and guards outside the building. It took all of you together to make it in. (Grail remembers being part of a team, and desires more of that feeling of cameraderie.)

 

[Gingganz]

[X] Accept the deal as is.

[X] Glaive, and how they saved you all from almost getting yourselves killed at the hands of that 6th with the dorsal worms. (Grail remembers her old friend and the bittersweetness of rescue, and is motivated to seek both reconnection and partnership.)

 

[boo600]

[X] Accept the deal as is.

[X] Glaive, and how they saved you all from almost getting yourselves killed at the hands of that 6th with the dorsal worms. (Grail remembers her old friend and the bittersweetness of rescue, and is motivated to seek both reconnection and partnership.)

I like the savagery and teamwork ones, but above even "teamwork,' this option calls to me about MINIONS. (Yes, I know that's probably not intentional, but I'm curious about Grail's past partnerships. Plus, something about this option screams "minion" instead of "team and partners," even though it literally says partnership and talks about reconnections. I dunno why, but Imma gonna (never use grammar/words like that again) go with my instincts!

...also, Veekie voted for it, and I want a plan I vote for to win for once.

Yay, selfishness and irrelevant reasoning!

 

[DocMatoi]

[x] Struggling to get past the traps and guards outside the building. It took all of you together to make it in. (Grail remembers being part of a team, and desires more of that feeling of cameraderie.)

 

[Espernyan]

[X ] Accept the deal as is.
I don't think any of us can handle them saying 'dicker' any more,

[X ] Glaive, and how they saved you all from almost getting yourselves killed at the hands of that 6th with the dorsal worms. (Grail remembers her old friend and the bittersweetness of rescue, and is motivated to seek both reconnection and partnership.)
Glaive, who retroactively got the girl
bless

 

[Wicked Sanguine]

Spoiler: Vote Results

[X] Accept the deal as presented

[X] Glaive, and how they saved you all from the brink of getting yourselves killed at the hands of that 6th with the dorsal worms. (Grail remembers her old friend and the bittersweetness of rescue, and is motivated to seek both reconnection and partnership.)

Glaive. You remember envying them for their tail, that long whippy thing with the knife tied to the end, even as they used it to swing from the ceiling bars, distracting the 6th guard whose dorsal worms gave them half a dozen extra mouths to share you, Ember and Rubble's bodies with. Their distraction came in time for the rest of you to rally quickly, and you actually came away from the whole debacle with a little loot and a lot of experience to show for it, less than you'd hoped for but much, much more than, to be honest, you deserved, considering how clumsy, cocky, overconfident the three of you were. With that bail-out, Glaive more than earned the right to make that the four of you. Crew. Friends. Allies. Family, even, or the closest you understand to that foreign concept. You wonder what became of them, any of them but Glaive especially, and you find yourself filled with a hope to reconnect, or to seek someone out. The freedom of choice of action you've enjoyed so far is nice, but it'd be even nicer, you decide, to have someone to watch your back, to collaborate with, a back to place yours against as you take on the city and the coming war. Mind made up to seek partnership, you set that aside for now and return your conscious attention to the Factor and their deal, which sounds like one worth taking as presented. For now, at least.

Find Big Yan. Ask them what you please. Secure the Factor some of the meat, blood, hide, and/or bones of a sacred cow or bull, bring the stuff back here, and in return get a list of Yan's clientele, magically derived from your expedition into their operation. A deal which is more than you expected from this thin lead, and something you absolutely can work with. You'll remain wary of a potential sting in the tail of this offer, but for now it's better than you thought a Dissian would give you, and sometimes you take the meat with a potential hook in it anyway, trusting your teeth to prove an equal.
"Sounds like a deal to me," you answer, answering their expectant expression with a death-may-care grin of your own. Said expression morphs into a pleased smile as they raise their glass to you. "Marvelous." You gently clink your glass to theirs, and the two of you take a long simultaneous sip of the fiery, rarefied mead to seal the bargain, eyes locked as you do so.
After you've both savored the sweet golden sting, the Factor continues, swirling what remains of their mead around in their glass and not looking at you as they speak.
"You have the look about you of a strident young blood with something to prove and a fighting chance to get somewhere, Grail. I hope that your fire is the right one to light my brand from. I wish you nothing but luck and accuracy in your endeavors, and a swift and triumphant return to my door. Any other kind could hardly be borne, could it?" With that politely veiled threat, they look up and make brief, searing eye contact, before winking.
"Now, don't let me detain you."
You know a dismissal when you hear one. You extract the last sip of your mead with some real regret, set the glass down on the table (aware of the keen look that prohibits your instinct to pocket it) and stand, inclining your head to them before turning with a quick little move that makes the skirt of your coat spin out dramatically behind you. You have a goal, a mission, and a strange extra layer to your usual determination--you'd never go out to intentionally screw up a mission unless you saw a better profit margin in that direction, but the Factor's beauty gives you another reason to find failing them unpleasant. Are you really so easily led, by a pretty voice and a charming smile? You hope not, that's a weakness which is hardly the most glaring one you've ever seen but still not one you're happy you have.

Self-recriminations ringing through your hand, you swiftly leave the Factor's office and the Dissian District entirely, looking back at the restaurant with real regret as you return to your bat. You'll check it out after your successful return, you tell your snarling stomach. Behave yourself. You swing a leg over the bat's saddle and climb into position, feet hooking into the stirrups and slight weight settling uncomfortably onto the worn leather of the saddle.
Big Yan's located on the south-side docks of Irontown, just around the edge of the island from where you explored back as part of your mission to track down Shelev and Helingen. It's somewhere you think you can navigate to even from the air, and you try and hold its image in your mind as your bat spirals into the sky, catching the thermal rising from the Dissian District's buildings and using it to climb high along the side of the Lodgepole and among the mess of cables, bridges and other tangled construction surrounding it. Fire and soot, metal and concrete, desperation and fatigue and quiet, hammered determination, the resonances of Irontown. No problem.

Unfortunately, the Tribulations laugh at clearcut plans with little to stand in their way. Such a thing is a siren song, calling out for your gods to meddle. Along the way, something happens.
[ ] Hot wind begins to howl from clockwise around the Lodgepole, coming out of the darkness of the caverns surrounding the bright island of Qoma's island. And, accruing on your sleeve and the bat's side from the windward direction, is that... melted wax?
[ ] A rider on a bat just like yours is following you. They're doing a good job of appearing like they're just heading in the same direction, but you can smell intent-to-follow on them.
[ ] A vulture rider careens out of the darkness to your left on a collision course with you and your bat, and that's a drawn lance in their hand.
[ ] A Law patrol is sending up LAND IMMEDIATELY signals to you with a flashbox. It looks to be a full mobile guardpost and attendants.
[ ] The smell of killing intent is rising all around you, so saturated and yet scattered that you can't pin down where it's coming from, but it's definitely aimed at you.

 

[Wicked Sanguine]

Tomorrow, the Fall Semester begins, and I'll be back in the saddle! I started this thing in February, in so much simpler times, and I will be continuing regular updates and audience interaction to the best of my ability, but I figured it was a fair warning for everybody involved. Don't worry--this remains one of the highest priorities in my life and I'll keep the content coming. In fact, I've got some ideas you may be interested in, more on those soon. But while my education continues and my schedule begins to fill again, rest assured that Never Full will keep hitting your screens weekly-ish until I conclude the story or die. Thank you so much for reading, responding and speculating, and stay hungry.

 

[veekie]

[X] A rider on a bat just like yours is following you. They're doing a good job of appearing like they're just heading in the same direction, but you can smell intent-to-follow on them.

 

[boo600]

Tomorrow, the Fall Semester begins, and I'll be back in the saddle! I started this thing in February, in so much simpler times, and I will be continuing regular updates and audience interaction to the best of my ability, but I figured it was a fair warning for everybody involved. Don't worry--this remains one of the highest priorities in my life and I'll keep the content coming. In fact, I've got some ideas you may be interested in, more on those soon. But while my education continues and my schedule begins to fill again, rest assured that Never Full will keep hitting your screens weekly-ish until I conclude the story or die. Thank you so much for reading, responding and speculating, and stay hungry.

Click to shrink...

*Stares in awe*

*REJOICES*

*Gets ready to post, and reason out an argument for vote*

*Pauses, noticing Veekie has posted 23 minutes ago*

*AND ITS THE SAME VMESL VOTE*

*Headdesks*

[X] A rider on a bat just like yours is following you. They're doing a good job of appearing like they're just heading in the same direction, but you can smell intent-to-follow on them.

One day, Veekie, I will post before you. ONE DAY.

 

[Kadath]

[X ] Hot wind begins to howl from clockwise around the Lodgepole, coming out of the darkness of the caverns surrounding the bright island of Qoma's island. And, accruing on your sleeve and the bat's side from the windward direction, is that... melted wax?

 

[Nevill]

[x] A Law patrol is sending up LAND IMMEDIATELY signals to you with a flashbox. It looks to be a full mobile guardpost and attendants.

Surely we have nothing to fear from the Law. *sweats*

 

[Wicked Sanguine]

Spoiler: Vote Results

[X] A rider on a bat just like yours is following you. They're doing a good job of appearing like they're just heading in the same direction, but you can smell intent-to-follow on them.

There's a bat rider following you, riding out from higher in the tangle of structure around the Lodgepole. They're not chasing you, precisely, they're being too careful and slow for it to be legitimate pursuit, but you're definitely being tracked. It's a good job of tracking without looking too apparent, if you were someone else, someone dumber and more trusting and less naturally equipped, you might have even fallen for it. But your sin-scent clearly tells you about the intent-to-follow trailing off them, directed at you, and so you can't let your guard down. Now that you've scented them, it's easy to track them tracking you... and now you can account for it.

Everything you've been doing these last few days has given you a taste for curiosity, intrigue, discovering what things are like with exploration and a little scheming and sneaking before turning to violence straight away. The eavesdropping, the casing of various islands, the cagey deals you've struck... you decide to keep the streak up and figure out what this person wants by leading them on a little adventure before confronting them. Plus, you get to spend more time in the air! Grin spreading across your face, you flick the reins and send the bat spiraling higher, feeling it flex under you as its wings spread wide to catch the thermals and soar. Smaller bats don't often do this, you've observed, preferring to flit here and there, but once something gets to this size and niche in the ecosystem then drifting around the air currents becomes more viable. You soar further up, catching the sunlight coming in from the hole, and spare a glance over your shoulder to your pursuer, putting together a mental image from a dozen stolen glimpses.

Their bat is a rather pretty black with bluish mottling to your bat's own unrelieved grey color, and just as worryingly unmutated, bearing a plain bridle and saddle just like yours. The rider themselves is human-sized and shaped, wearing a black coat, low brimmed hat, and some kind of pointed mask or helmet with round eye lenses that glint in the semi-obstructed sunlight. They keep up as you flutter to and fro, briefly alighting on bridge pilings or cables in order to preserve your mount's stamina before continuing on your meandering course southwards for the Irontown docks.

Before too much more of this, you espy a particularly large and partially-ruined cupola dangling from a network of chains and aqueducts, its fire-marked stones and leaning pillars providing a perfect opportunity to get yourself a chance at confrontation. You feint left, juke up and hide behind the cupola, your bat's clever little claws holding onto the charred woodwork on the lee side of the ruin as you wait for the rider to fly right past you. Amazingly enough, they do, and you take advantage, flapping after them and dropping down until you're a lance's span away from them, close enough to shout. As they look up and over at you with goggle-eyed surprise, you hail them with good cheer borne from your satisfaction with that clever little move.
"Hey there! Can't help but notice you've been following me for some little while. Got something to say? I'd rather hash it out friendly-like, one dashingly-dressed and armed bat-rider to another."
The rider is silent for a minute, then laughs. Their voice--no, his voice, you'll assume for now just from the sound--is rendered slightly tinny by whatever's in the mask, which is a full-face beak-like number attached to a close-fitting hood, all capped off by a round, low-crowned brimmed hat with a belt of bullets for a hatband.
"Well, you got me, I'll say that much. Usually I don't get dowsed so easy but you twigged on to me following you pretty fast, huh? I'm impressed. Listen, what say we land and talk this over? Don't want to accidentally fly into nothing while we're both shooting and riding the breeze, up here."
"Let's hop off on this here cupola," you reply, jerking a thumb over your shoulder towards the building you used as cover.
"Sure thing."

The two of you get your bats to perch on sheared-off pillars as you hop to the floorstones of a little courtyard in the dangling cupola. A granite statue of a hooded woman holding a bowl looms over the weed-choked yard, a nest of birds in the bowl that may have once been a fountain or an altar. Instead of a face, the hollow of the hooded head holds a cluster of candles, and the rider snaps his fingers, setting them alight.
This close you can see he's about your height but because of heeled boots, his coat close-cut over an outfit of leather and metal reinforcement turning formalwear into a sort of adventurer's harness. His hands are clad in jointed enamel gauntlets that smell of the oil and tension of spring mechanisms, and a revolver and thick-bladed shortsword are belted at his side. His mannerisms are as birdlike as his mask, head tilted as he makes a magnanimous gesture.
"I suppose introductions are as good a place to start as any, and I'll start thanks to my unutterable rudeness, following you like that. You can call me Simeon."
"Grail. Why follow me, Simeon? Anti-Locust paranoia? Pure curiosity? Think I'm pretty?"
"You insult me!" He lays a hand over his heart, pretend-wounded. "I'm no paranoiac, thanks, and you're not quite my type. Curiosity? Yes, but of a decidedly impure type. Stop me if I'm wrong, but you're new to our fair city, are you not?"
"...I am, yes."
"You've already made some waves. I represent the Crow Brotherhood, if you're unfamiliar. Solutions, secrets, the most stylish hired blades in the city."
"Every sellsword's got an angle. You looking for recruits?"
"Perhaps, but it's by no means the sole reason for my stalking. Quite simply put, we Crows look out for this city. Qoma needs us, and we need her. And wars, rumors of war? Good for business but bad for cities. So we're out in force looking for things and people we think might help us keep Qoma healthy, and part of that includes extending an offer of alliance to any promising young sellswords in the area. Joining the Brothers is quite the commitment, but we don't need you to don the cowl to hire you, and you don't need a beak to get help from us. You're going places, you're getting in trouble, you're making waves. I'm letting you know that anything particularly interesting or dangerous, we'll buy off you."
"...What's the catch?"
"Information exists to be used, Grail. We'll put to good use anything you tell us. But, no questions asked, safety guaranteed--you bring the Crows some intel, we'll keep you in money, tools and tips as long as the tidbits pan out. You have nothing to commit to," he continues, holding up a hand to forestall your reply, "I merely wish to extend the offer."
"...I'll think about it. Where can I find you?"
"You can find a Crow at any merc bar or guildhouse, and the Rookery's only for Brothers, but I can tell you this:" He scratches a glyph on one of the wall stones using a clawed finger, a sideways open angle inside a box. [>]
"Look for these to find the Black Confessionals. There you can unburden your soul to burden your pockets."
You nod, committing the glyph to memory. "I'll keep that in mind, Simeon. Was that all?"
He nods. "Sure was! Thanks for your time--and good job catching me. If you didn't, I might not have made the offer."
He scrambles up the wall like a lizard and climbs onto his bat, and you do the same.
"Good hunting, Grail, and I hope to hear from you real soon."
He's off before you can reply.

You climb back on your bat, do a few evasive loops just to be sure there are no more tails, and begin seriously considering his words as you continue your path back to Irontown.
[ ] Dismiss Simeon out of hand. None of that seemed trustworthy at all, and you have no interest in feeding intel to the Crow Brotherhood of your own free will.
[ ] Decide to find a Black Confessional at your earliest convenience. It seemed a good way to make a profit for learning things, and he seemed decent enough.
[ ] Mull it over and decide neither way for now, and commit yourself to learning about the Crow Brotherhood as soon as you can. Could be the wisest course...
[ ] Commit to nothing and put it out of mind entirely for the time being. You have plenty on your fork right now and don't need to add a new concern.

 

[veekie]

[X] Mull it over and decide neither way for now, and commit yourself to learning about the Crow Brotherhood as soon as you can. Could be the wisest course...

Confirm before commit

 

[Eiral]

[X] Mull it over and decide neither way for now, and commit yourself to learning about the Crow Brotherhood as soon as you can. Could be the wisest course...