[X] the ground and creek suddenly dropping off into a great big sinkhole right in the middle of the forest floor, roots of the trees poking through its sides all the way down.
This one might involve Steele princess-carrying Grail to go across, down, or back up so I gotta
[X] coming upon the aftermath of a battle. There's blood, there's corpses, and there's at least one survivor, though, in that condition, maybe not for long.
"So," you begin, too curious to help yourself, "tell me about fri--" and then, your mouth catches up to what your nose has been trying to tell you. Blood. Battle. Violence and death, and all very recent. You halt in your tracks as your eyes join the rest of you, and a second later you feel Steele and the bat halt around you.
"Shit," you distantly hear her say, and you agree. Shit indeed.
You've stumbled upon a clearing, snow thicker upon the branches of the trees, the rocks and the wreckage, than along the banks, colder and darker and more unfriendly than the rest of the forest has been so far. A lot of that resonance probably comes from the absolute slaughter before you, to be fair.
Blood, dark red human and Erzan and faintly orange-tinged Oriza and still-steaming Devil, splatters the snow and trees and boulders. The ground is torn and ripped asunder, as is anything in the way of the long tearing marks--rocks, fallen logs, the corpses of yzobu and ezzaldiak and people alike. Char marks the tree-trunks, and several long metal spars have been driven into the landscape and through various bodies. You drop down from the ridge and head into the clearing to investigate, instincts moving your legs automatically even as Steele calls for you to wait. A slaughter like this pings multiple instincts for you. The survivor part sees free meat and urges you to feast, but you try to resist it--never eat on an active battlefield, and you have no reason to suspect this area's become safe. The hardcase part sees that there were multiple factions here--Oriza and Erzan in grey and red uniforms with high-quality firearms, humans and Devils in black uniforms with harsh black metal weapons, but that they died facing a common foe. And the deep-down instincts, the old atavisms that tell you what to fear and how to flee and when to fight, scream at you about how this was carried out by someone or something strong.
In an almost dazed silence, you explore the battlefield, smell the smoke of the gunfire, inspect where the weapons were broken and in how many pieces the corpses have been divided, note the nature of the killing wounds, examine the footprints and blood spatters, and you gradually come to your conclusion. The grey-and-red uniforms must be Confederates, not well-armed enough to be anything beyond a scouting party, and the black uniforms... you don't know, maybe Dis? They both came here at the same time, more or less. Then, some third party, or maybe a third and fourth, came along, someone or something with claws and strength that tore the earth, smelling like brimstone and blood and hot rocks, and something else that stinks of smoke and metal and coagulated blood, almost the smell of a Cicada--and doesn't that send a shiver of terror down your spine. And not the combined force of the armed soldiers was able to stop that third party or parties from tearing them asunder. There are too many smells to tell what happened exactly, whether the hot-rocks-blood thing and the almost-Cicada were allies or enemies, but you know a one-sided bloodbath when you scent one. There's no smell of Ves that you can tell, it was not one of your own, which leaves simultaneously too few and too many prospects for what could kill like that.
You stand up taller on your tarsals, searching for a scent you could follow, while Steele tries to get your attention, until the scent of living blood strikes you. There's a survivor here.
"Someone's alive," you interrupt Steele's attempt to ask you what you're doing. You make a direct line for them, your party following behind, finding a human slumped against a tree. She's in the uniform of the maybe-Dissians, shaved bald and ashen-pale from loss of blood, and one of the long metal spears, notched and cut to make it cut the air faster, nails her to the tree's dark trunk. You squat on your haunches next to her, not even sure where to begin--any wound like that you've ever seen was undone by the wounded just pulling it out and maybe rinsing the hole out. Her eyes, half-lidded and bruised-looking, focus blearily in on you, and she smiles with bloodflecked lips.
"Hhh... heh. Smelled the carnage, huh, scraper? Bet you're glad for a free meal." Her hand rises, trembling, her revolver clutched tightly in bloody fingers. "I won't--let you--eat without something for your troubles--"
Steele's hand closes over hers, and gently pushes the gun back down to the snowy forest floor.
"Hush now, none of that," she says in a firm but gentle voice, raising her canteen to the soldier's lips. She drinks almost automatically, before coughing, pink-stained water bubbling from her lips and from around the spear's entry point.
"Hhhandler, huh? Don't. Don't let her eat me, goldie," she begs Steele, whose face immediately goes suspiciously blank. "I don't. I don't want to die food."
"I won't, I promise," she murmurs, cutting the briefest apologetic glance at you. "Soldier, I won't lie to you, it doesn't look good. What happened here? Let us at least not let this go unanswered."
"R-right neighborly of you," the soldier gasps, the hand with the gun opening, turning shakily to grip Steele's wrist. Her other hand, clenched tight in a fist, trembles, blood dripping from between the knuckles. "I... I can't really feel anything anymore. That's bad, right?"
"Tell us what happened," Steele presses, wiping some blood from the soldier's mouth with a gesture of tenderness that, for some reason, makes you ache somewhere around your liver.
"Exploratory. Got lost. Met the, the 'Feds. We were squaring, s-squaring up to fight. Then those. Those things. They ran into each other in here. The machine. The. The. They fought. We tried. They didn't... we were all gone in minutes. It was like f-f-fighting a hurric-cane. We--"
She gasps and shudders, and Steele shushes her.
"Hey, hey, it's okay. They're gone. Soldier, did you see where they went?"
"N-north. North. Every bad fucking thing comes from the North, hey? H-hey. Goldie. Tell them. Tell her... I died thinking of her, hey?" The hand clenched in a fist opens, revealing an iron locket clutched so hard it cut her palm. Steele takes the locket from her as gently as an egg plucked from the nest.
"I promise. Go on, soldier. You did all you could."
"D-dis... perdura... por sempre..." she manages, before smiling, gasping, shivering so hard that the buckles on her uniform rattle, and dying.
Steele waits a few moments before closing the soldier's eyes, standing, and tucking the locket into her harness. She turns to you, eyes clouded and unreadable.
"Anything else you can give me, Grail?"
You hurriedly fill her in on what your nose and sense of a battlefield can tell you about the place, trying to distance yourself from the conflict you feel about that terrible kindness Steele showed, about how strange it was to watch that unchosen die so slowly. Your partner takes a deep breath, mutters something in a language you don't speak, and nods.
"A four-way fight that wound up going only one way. Slaughter for the sake of it. Blood and smoke and the ground torn asunder... I think I know at least one of the mystery parties here, and I really, really hope I'm wrong. Grail, we have a mission to see through, but... do me a favor, and if you smell anything responsible for this along the way, tell me?"
[ ] "Of course." (Agree.)
[ ] "If I can..." (Don't commit.)
[ ] "I can't promise that. This isn't our fight." (Refuse.)
[ ] "Of course." (Lie.)
With that decided, the two of you decide to continue on your way. To the northwest, the clearing narrows into a still fairly wide path, marked with boots and the hoofprints of ezzaldiak, while to the east is a very similar path with yzobu tracks, and to the north-northeast is a narrower still route with no visible tracks.
You
[ ] loot the clearing, despite Steele's strange silence
[ ] don't loot, because of that odd feeling and Steele's emotional aura
[ ] hurriedly and partially loot, owing to conflicting feelings
and head
[ ] down the track it seems the Dissians took
[ ] down the track it seems the Confederates took
[ ] down the third and seemingly unmarked track
and further into the woods.
You feel
[ ] Strange, conflicted, in a way that'll last past the paycheck. There was something especially ugly about that, something... sad about that death. And you don't want to think about that. It's fine.
[ ] Impatient, frustrated at Steele's reaction and your reticence. The strong won and the weak died, isn't that how it's supposed to work?
[ ] like you have no time for feelings, not here and not now. There's nothing you feel about this that can't be shoved down where it'll never bother you again.
And you
[ ] will ask Steele about this situation and her actions and reactions, after a small amount of respectful silence. You want, maybe need, to understand.
[ ] will not pry. You're hardly crew, after all. How Steele feels about this is her business and nobody else's, and anything else will interfere in the mission.
[X] "Of course." (Agree.)
[X] hurriedly and partially loot, owing to conflicting feelings
[X] down the third and seemingly unmarked track
[X] Strange, conflicted, in a way that'll last past the paycheck. There was something especially ugly about that, something... sad about that death.
[X] will ask Steele about this situation and her actions and reactions, after a small amount of respectful silence. You want, maybe need, to understand.
We do still owe Steele some favors, so no reason not to let her know if we smell something. If we're lucky, it'll give us some warning of them and convincing Steele to not pick a fight with those monsters won't be necessary. I don't expect to be that lucky, but I doubt the missing caravan is on a path one of the armies went through, so we'll just have to head north and hope the monsters didn't take our route. In the meantime, work on understanding that whole 'feelings' and 'empathy' deal. Not to the point where we give up free stuff, but enough to get us started on understanding it.
[X] loot the clearing, despite Steele's strange silence
[X] down the third and seemingly unmarked track and further into the woods.
[X] Impatient, frustrated at your own hesitation and at Steele's reaction. The strong won and the weak died, isn't that how it's supposed to work?
[X] Will not pry. You're hardly crew, after all. How Steele feels about this is her business and nobody else's, and anything else will interfere in the mission.
We are being friendly enough by agreeing to hunt something that wiped out two military teams. Also not a huge fun of already starting to question the morals of our upbringing in Vespergren, we have been out for what, ten days? We have known Steele for even less and even if our character likes her you don't start questioning your way of life for someone you have known less than a week
Notably, the Echo also contains a list of what nations they think will be forced into which sides of the war, with the Vesakh nations on one side, the Confederacy, Chelqath, and Dis on the other, and Nashax, Qoma and the Republic in the middle.
"Exploratory. Got lost. Met the, the 'Feds. We were squaring, s-squaring up to fight. Then those. Those things. They ran into each other in here. The machine. The. The. They fought. We tried. They didn't... we were all gone in minutes. It was like f-f-fighting a hurric-cane. We--"
The soldier mentions "the machine", but it's a Dis soldier and the machine was clearly not theirs.
There was also this piece that we have not overheard and so Grail doesn't know anything about it:
I wouldn't commit, but I have little choice in the matter since she phrased it that way. We owe her two favors. Does that count as one?
[x] "Of course." (Agree.)
[x] hurriedly and partially loot, owing to conflicting feelings
[x] down the third and seemingly unmarked track
The choice of track is an interesting one, but neither side is sympathetic to a Locust, and after a bloodletting they would be inclined to shoot first and ask questions never. Don't follow them. Then again, the third party had to go somewhere too...
[x] like you have no time for feelings, not here and not now. There's nothing you feel about this that can't be shoved down where it'll never bother you again.
[x] will ask Steele about this situation and her actions and reactions, after a small amount of respectful silence. You want, maybe need, to understand.
The soldier mentions "the machine", but it's a Dis soldier and the machine was clearly not theirs.
There was also this piece that we have not overheard and so Grail doesn't know anything about it:
Dis is directly involved in the creation of the damnable Cicadas. They source their machines from the Bueroza. If this information gets out, there may be war. Let that inform your decision on whether to release it.
[X] "Of course." (Agree.)
[X] hurriedly and partially loot, owing to conflicting feelings
and head
[X] down the third and seemingly unmarked track
and further into the woods.
[X] Strange, conflicted, in a way that'll last past the paycheck. There was something especially ugly about that, something... sad about that death. And you don't want to think about that. It's fine.
[X] will ask Steele about this situation and her actions and reactions, after a small amount of respectful silence. You want, maybe need, to understand.
So remind me please. Dis and Confeds seem to be nominal allies in the upcoming war. What exactly could these parties be fighting about?
Are those really spears, or are they more like ballista bolts? Could this be one of the Dis' machines in action?
The soldier mentions "the machine", but it's a Dis soldier and the machine was clearly not theirs.
There was also this piece that we have not overheard and so Grail doesn't know anything about it:
(also, I wonder what is the source of the soldier's loyalty to Dis. I thought most of their human hires were mercenaries?)
I wouldn't commit, but I have little choice in the matter since she phrased it that way. We owe her two favors. Does that count as one?
[x] "Of course." (Agree.)
[x] hurriedly and partially loot, owing to conflicting feelings
[x] down the third and seemingly unmarked track
The choice of track is an interesting one, but neither side is sympathetic to a Locust, and after a bloodletting they would be inclined to shoot first and ask questions never. Don't follow them. Then again, the third party had to go somewhere too...
[x] like you have no time for feelings, not here and not now. There's nothing you feel about this that can't be shoved down where it'll never bother you again.
[x] will ask Steele about this situation and her actions and reactions, after a small amount of respectful silence. You want, maybe need, to understand.
The speculation here waters my crops, thank you!
I will say that the metal spars are just big steel stakes, very minimalist, and that the mercenary-buying devils are the Pandemonians. Dissians... do it differently.
[X] "Of course." (Agree.)
[X] hurriedly and partially loot, owing to conflicting feelings
and head
[X] down the third and seemingly unmarked track
and further into the woods.
[X] Strange, conflicted, in a way that'll last past the paycheck. There was something especially ugly about that, something... sad about that death. And you don't want to think about that. It's fine.
[X] will ask Steele about this situation and her actions and reactions, after a small amount of respectful silence. You want, maybe need, to understand.
[X] "Of course." (Agree.)
[X] hurriedly and partially loot, owing to conflicting feelings
[X] down the track it seems the Dissians took
[X] Strange, conflicted, in a way that'll last past the paycheck. There was something especially ugly about that, something... sad about that death. And you don't want to think about that. It's fine.
[X] will ask Steele about this situation and her actions and reactions, after a small amount of respectful silence. You want, maybe need, to understand.
To be fair, my impression more seems to be that the Cicadas, in their pursuit of power beyond what Ves can grant, ended up finding a particularly promising avenue of progress through the Bueroza - more like Dis selling weapons to the Cicadas than being in any way their masters or creators.
[X] "Of course." (Agree.)
[X] hurriedly and partially loot, owing to conflicting feelings
and head
[X] Strange, conflicted, in a way that'll last past the paycheck. There was something especially ugly about that, something... sad about that death. And you don't want to think about that. It's fine.
[X] will ask Steele about this situation and her actions and reactions, after a small amount of respectful silence. You want, maybe need, to understand.
I am rather confused about the paths. I want to go down the one that goes east, because the monsters went north according to the dying soldier and I very much want to stay away from them. However, not knowing which party used which animals, I don't know whether the path to the east is the one the Dissians or the one the Confederates took. @Wicked Sanguine, could you help me out?
Edit: Updating my vote.
[X] down the track it seems the Confederates took
However, not knowing which party used which animals, I don't know whether the path to the east is the one the Dissians or the one the Confederates took. @Wicked Sanguine, could you help me out?
Sure, I don't see why not! The Confederates used yzobu, six-horned, omnivorous and cantankerous creatures with a long history of domestication in their lands, while the Dissians brought hardy, dark-scaled and quiet ezzaldiak in place of the more obvious machines of their homeland.
[ ✅ ] "Of course." (Agree.)
[ ✅ ] hurriedly and partially loot, owing to conflicting feelings
just grab a rifle and some ammunition. that lil' mage-iron ain't so well-suited for the bigger beasties
... maybe collect identification, if they carry it
Connies probably do, bein' as they are, and I wouldn't be shocked if the Dissians do as well -- even beyond not wanting to leave them forever MIA, they might be posthumously honored? I don't remember how much of the Dissian system is Broadly Known and willn't risk spilling any cats I shouldn't.
[ ✅ ] down the third and seemingly unmarked track
[ ✅ ] like you have no time for feelings, not here and not now. You can have those later.
[ ✅ ] will ask Steele about this situation and her actions and reactions, after a small amount of respectful silence. You want, maybe need, to understand.
[X] "Of course." (Agree.)
[X] hurriedly and partially loot, owing to conflicting feelings
[X] down the third and seemingly unmarked track
[X] Strange, conflicted, in a way that'll last past the paycheck. There was something especially ugly about that, something... sad about that death. And you don't want to think about that. It's fine.
[X] will ask Steele about this situation and her actions and reactions, after a small amount of respectful silence. You want, maybe need, to understand. This update is somewhat more explicit about cannibalism and gore, though not excessively so. Stay safe.
You couldn't not loot the area. It's a battlefield, you're a sellsword. It'd be against the principles that keep those that share your career alive and prosperous if you gave up this chance. But you did elect not to exhaustively pick over the battlefield. After that scene with Steele, not to mention the abstract but extant timeline you're on, you just get the feeling that it's not a great idea to go combing through the remnants of both sides for treasure and organ meats. Instead, you prioritize what you take, quickly moving while Steele finishes using her eyes to gain the knowledge your nose told you instantly. Rolling...
GAINED: Dissian Accusatrice-13 rifle. A long weapon with reinforced hemacite stock and blackened metal parts, it's bolt action and has better range and stopping power than your Corcell revolver, so you might as well take it with you.
GAINED: +48 Astrels, 4 Crescents, 2 Bits. The contents of assorted money-pouches. A mix of dinars and astrels.
GAINED: 4 assorted knives, two folding and two fixed-blade with nice sheaths.
GAINED: 2x Confederate "splinter" grenade, a core of explosive wrapped in a segmented metal shell designed to become shrapnel in the detonation.
GAINED: Identification--most of the soldiers here had what Steele briefly identified as ID, little steel tags from the Confederates and gorget badges from the Dissians. Maybe they'll come in handy for future profiting from this mess?
GAINED: Meat. You chose the bits that had been torn free by the fight, rather than carving into bodies--Steele was so gentle with that dying soldier, it just feels a little strange, maybe reckless or dangerous, to visibly butcher and tear in front of her. Instead, to preserve the peace, you scavenge what's already been torn free. It's still fresh. It's still good. There's nothing worth bothering with on a Devil, their flesh curdles after death to be as enticing and delicious as bitter wood, but the other bits are worth bothering. You swiftly eat a little, horking it down raw too fast to taste, and wrap the rest in your newspapers to store away for later. If Steele notices, she doesn't mention it.
After you fill your pockets, you realize your bat smells nervous and is chittering behind you. You can't be having that. Not only does it risk compromising your position if it breaks and panics, but you just don't like the idea of it being unhappy? So you give it some treats and some scratches under the chin, chittering right back to it quietly, trying to make it calm down. After a moment, it seems to work. It likes you, it seems, even after you left it in the Plaza of Giants, and you can get it to stop feeling too scared.
Presently, Steele finishes her investigations and you finish your comforting, and, without a word you agree upon and head together up the narrow north-northeast track. You have no interest in following the soldiers back to where they came from, not now, anyway. What's a lot more important here is, yes, finding the caravan you came here for, but also securing one of the favors you owe Steele and finding the slaughterer. And, while you've lost the scent amid the blood and torn earth and gunsmoke, you know it didn't go down either of the soldiers' approaching tracks.
You lead Steele down the path, moving lightly with your tarsals barely even breaking the snow-crust. She follows suit, the hot-metal-and-wine scent of her magic flaring slightly and briefly behind you as she uses it to keep from treading too heavily.
You walk for a while. The peaceful atmosphere of the snowy woods is different, the branches are closer overhead, the air is darker. The quiet has become silence. The distinction definitely feels meaningful to you, though the Ashvakrev is a little better. Continental just takes too many words to properly differentiate, say, "the absence of sound that comes from calm and relief" and "the absence of sound that precedes an ambush", while, in Ashvakrev, you can just say vaamei and istvraal. The snow barely makes a sound under your feet, even the bat being more careful with how it carries itself.
The silence builds in size until it breaks under its own weight. Surprisingly enough, by Steele.
"We have to assume that we're in these woods with the wo--with whoever did this. Which means, not only are we not-safe in the abstract sense of being in the Forest of the Yasheritsi, but we're not-safe in the very concrete sense of sharing a theater of operations with whatever did that. And you said it doesn't smell like Vesakh?"
"No," you agree, "none of us. Save me, of course. Blood and hot rocks, and hot metal and flesh. No Ves."
She nods, slightly at first before doing it again, with more conviction.
"Yeah. Yeah, okay. And you..."
"Whatever we need to do, we'll do it. We should find the caravan first, but we're not gonna shy away from what did this if and when we run into them," you confirm.
Something feels unsaid there, but you can't put your finger on it. Steele seems satisfied, though, and when you stop talking, it's quiet again, not silence. That lets you decide that you really don't feel like dwelling on the death of that soldier. There's more important things to do with your time. This is not a place for self-examination.
It's time to examine your partner, instead.
"So, was that personal?" You hazard.
Steele makes a few noises as she starts and stops sentences, eventually settling on "It doesn't have to be. I talked a big game to that creep in the skin-suit back in the Palace, but I'm not the biggest fan of preventable deaths."
"And the locket? Taking it on? You didn't know her, let alone were crew or anything?"
That makes her look at you for a moment, before murmuring "right, fresh off the spire."
"It's just something you do, when someone's alone and in pain far from home, Grail. Something I think I wouldn't be as effective or good at what I do without doing."
"I... see. Okay, thanks." Unchosen. Still, if she does it and assigns some efficacy to it... you'll give it a shot too.
[ ] Try to learn about the person she thinks is part of the slaughterers. You might learn something interesting about her past and the powers in the area, too.
[ ] Try to learn about her code of conduct and why she does what she does. You might learn more about local mores and how Steele ticks.
[ ] Try to learn more about why friendship is a thing. You'll probably wind up talking more about how Vespergren works.
I kinda wanted to reply to the point brought up earlier, about us questioning our way of life far too much for the amount of time we spent away from home. There is adhering to your lifestyle, and there is ignoring social cues while being in a semi-crew position in a hostile forest. We should probably learn about what people may expect of us and why. Not to fall in line, but to be aware we are breaking something if/when we do.
[x] Try to learn about her code of conduct and why she does what she does. You might learn more about local mores and how Steele ticks.
They are sending out young Vesakh precisely to teach them how to deal with the outside world. I don't see the Locusts becoming any lesser or more peaceful for it.
[✅] Try to learn about the person she thinks is part of the slaughterers. You might learn something interesting about her past and the powers in the area, too.
this one screams for vengeance
[X] Try to learn about her code of conduct and why she does what she does. You might learn more about local mores and how Steele ticks.
"'Just something you do,'" you muse aloud, repeating her words back at her in the hopes that the repetition will make it make more sense. "It's not something I'd have done, if I was here alone, but... if you do it, then it must work. Can you tell me more? I know that anyone who wants to get anywhere has some kind of code, but I don't know how close mine and yours are. And, not to cut the heart for you or anything, but you know a lot more than me, you're more experienced. Stronger. Whatever code you operate by... if it really works, I want to know about it."
You're a little surprised by how honest that came out sounding, how much of the truth you told her, but something tells you that might work. Unchosen love honesty and vulnerability, right? Maybe showing some of those might make her like y--make her share how to get stronger with you. Yes. The look on her face tells you she's about as surprised as you are--but she's rallying, and you metaphorically settle in to listen as you follow the narrow track into the darkened wood.
"You want to know my code, huh? Well. Some of that's personal, bud. Can't be sharing everything, especially not on just our second date." She winks, and you feel moths in your stomach--dates, isn't that an Unchosen courting thing? Dates? It's probably just a metaphor or something, you think furiously to the traitorous flutters. Calm down, you're going to ruin it all for us.
"But," she continues, "you're right in that a good code is one of the things separating the successful members of our trade from the failures and the monsters. Prepwork, good planning, and learning to spot the red flags about bad effort-to-payoff ratio are the others, of course, but a set of rules you don't let yourself break is an anchor when things get really fuckin' stormy. I know the Locust Creed, and that doesn't fly for me, but if it works for you..."
She looks around, as if wanting to ensure you're not somehow overheard, and you reach back and pet the bat while waiting for her to continue. That all makes sense, you think--isn't the Creed what keeps the Vesakh from weakness? From just being Unchosen with better teeth and noses?
"What I can share with you, I think, amounts to this, so listen up." She starts counting off the points on her fingers, a little golden mote of light appearing above each one just to hammer the point, sending faint threads of the molten-metal-and-honey scent of her magic wafting through the chilly air.
"One. Five jobs with good behavior is how many it takes before I stop ensuring I get paid up front with any given client. Always make sure you get paid before you take any risks unless you've proven you can trust them that far."
"Two. Threaten and imply all you like, but violence should always be a response, not an opener. A good threat opens doors--a hasty attack closes them. Provoke others into starting fights, then finish them."
"Three. The best weapon is the one you know like it's your own body. Trying out new tricks in a fight is a good way to make the fight way harder, so try to avoid it. That said, the second best weapon is the one your environment drops in your lap, so always know how what and where you're fighting can be used to tilt the odds."
"Four. Coercion's one thing. Torture's a whole different bucket of shit entirely. I don't deal pain lightly in the course of business, Grail. If someone thinks I do, and that makes them help me, then fine, but that good-bad routine business we did with that creepy skinsuiter in the Palace is as far as, Sun willing, you'll ever have to go."
"Five. You gotta learn when to be polite and when to be rude. Don't let anyone push you around, but sometimes it's not worth it to start a fight. So drink the coffee in Chelqath, eat the nearest pastry on the tray in Noster, don't try to look under any Yasaali's mask--not until they step on your toes and challenge you. Then bite back--but within their rules. I like making them realize they're dealing with someone who knows, not some trained animal, but sometimes you just got to show you're the strongest animal in the cage. We live and die on our rep as much as our skills, Grail. Never let the client think you're an easy mark, a cheap source of violence. You're worth every centavo of what you can squeeze."
"Six. When someone's hurting bad, and you possibly can, you send them on. We all die someday, and there's right and wrong ways to treat those who died cause they were in your way. I saw you eating pieces of the fallen."
That last makes you startle, though you then feel dumb--of course she noticed, you weren't blatant but you also weren't exactly the soul of discretion there. "Yeah," you reply, "that's what you--we, at least--what we do. That's, that's good meat, otherwise going to waste..." To your surprise, she nods.
"Yeah, that's alright. It's about avoiding waste, right? I know the Southern Seafarers have a whole thing about showing respect to the enemy through eating a bit, don't know how much that's a thing with you and yours, but it's kind of the same principle."
All you can do is mumble an affirmative. You weren't expecting an Unchosen to get it--but you're beginning to think all you should expect from Steele is to be continuously surprised.
"Yeah," she continues, "you show respect, whatever way you know how. You don't deface or humiliate a corpse. Even when grave-robbing, you show respect--they don't need the goods anymore, but whenever you profit from death, showing a little consideration for the dead is good luck. After all, someday that'll be you."
She takes a deep breath and stretches. "Well, shit! That's more than I thought I was gonna say, but I stand by each and every one of those rules, and a few more besides I'll tell you when you're older. Whaddaya think?"
[ ] "Makes a ton of sense to me, if I'm being honest. I think I'll give that a try!" Attempt living by Steele's rules. Likely gain some respect--and lose some if the Creed and Steele's Code conflict and the Creed wins.
[ ] "Yeah, there's some damn good ideas there, though some I'm not sure about..." Adopt 1-4 of these. 2, 4 and 6 are the ones that give you the most pause... She will probably like this, though the same conflict contingencies apply.
[ ] "I'm glad that works for you, but..." You shrug. Commit to nothing. Steele probably won't like this. But the Creed will carry you.
