The Exile V.1.2 (Official)

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<div id="sidebar"> <div class="sidebar-header">  <div></div>  <h1 class="story-title" data-passage="gameTitle"></h1>  <div class="sidebar-toggle"> <span id="sidebar-toggle-icon" class="lnr lnr-menu-circle"></span> </div> </div>   <div class="sidebar-history-nav"> <span id="backwards-button" class="lnr lnr-arrow-left"></span> <span id="forwards-button" class="lnr lnr-arrow-right"></span> </div> <div id="sidebar-body">  <div class="story-logo" data-passage="storyLogo"></div>  <h2 class="story-author" data-passage="storyAuthor"></h2> <nav class="sidebar-nav"> <ul class="story-tools"> <li> <span id="restart-button" class="lnr lnr-redo"></span> <span class="tooltiptext">Restart</span> </li> <li> <span id="saves-button" class="lnr lnr-download"></span> <span class="tooltiptext">Saves</span> </li> <li> <span id="settings-button" class="lnr lnr-cog"></span> <span class="tooltiptext">Settings</span> </li> </ul> <ul class="story-menu" data-passage="storyMenu"> </ul> </nav> <nav id="social-media"> <p>Social media</p> <ul data-passage="socialMedia"> </ul> </nav> </div>  </div>  <div id="story" role="main"> <div id="passages"> <div id="passage-start" data-passage="start" class="passage"> </div> </div> </div>

<center>$date_m<br> ''$date_y''</center> <br> <li>[[Credits]]</li>

<<set $hello = "hello">> [[Next|More Styles]]

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Sed blandit libero volutpat sed cras ornare. Nisi vitae suscipit tellus mauris a diam. Eu sem integer vitae justo eget magna. Mauris cursus mattis molestie a iaculis at erat pellentesque adipiscing. Mattis aliquam faucibus purus in massa tempor nec feugiat. Vel quam elementum pulvinar etiam non quam lacus suspendisse faucibus. Id interdum velit laoreet id donec ultrices tincidunt arcu. Viverra aliquet eget sit amet tellus cras adipiscing. Praesent elementum facilisis leo vel fringilla. Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit, sed do eiusmod tempor incididunt ut labore et dolore magna aliqua. Vitae suscipit tellus mauris a diam maecenas. Sed egestas egestas fringilla phasellus faucibus scelerisque eleifend donec. Sed sed risus pretium quam. Aliquet eget sit amet tellus cras adipiscing enim eu. Nulla posuere sollicitudin aliquam ultrices sagittis orci. Pharetra vel turpis nunc eget lorem dolor sed. Vel orci porta non pulvinar neque laoreet suspendisse interdum. Tempor orci dapibus ultrices in iaculis. Eu mi bibendum neque egestas congue quisque egestas. Ultrices in iaculis nunc sed augue lacus viverra vitae. Sit amet porttitor eget dolor morbi. Nec ultrices dui sapien eget mi proin. Leo vel fringilla est ullamcorper eget nulla facilisi etiam dignissim. Nec ultrices dui sapien eget mi proin sed. Aliquet nibh praesent tristique magna. Viverra accumsan in nisl nisi scelerisque. Nunc lobortis mattis aliquam faucibus purus in massa tempor nec. Nunc sed id semper risus in hendrerit. Non sodales neque sodales ut etiam sit amet nisl purus. Pellentesque elit eget gravida cum sociis. Consectetur purus ut faucibus pulvinar elementum. Ut faucibus pulvinar elementum integer enim neque volutpat ac. Sed blandit libero volutpat sed cras ornare. Nisi vitae suscipit tellus mauris a diam. Eu sem integer vitae justo eget magna. Mauris cursus mattis molestie a iaculis at erat pellentesque adipiscing. Mattis aliquam faucibus purus in massa tempor nec feugiat. Vel quam elementum pulvinar etiam non quam lacus suspendisse faucibus. Id interdum velit laoreet id donec ultrices tincidunt arcu. Viverra aliquet eget sit amet tellus cras adipiscing. Praesent elementum facilisis leo vel fringilla. <<button "Next" "More Styles">><</button>>

<<set $hello = "hello">> <<print $hello.toUpperFirst()>> <<= $hello.toUpperFirst()>> !!! Checkbox: <<checkbox "$checkboxVar1" false true autocheck>> Checkbox option 1 <<checkbox "$checkboxVar2" false true autocheck>> Checkbox option 2 <<checkbox "$checkboxVar3" false true autocheck>> Checkbox option 3 !!! Cycle: <<cycle "$cycleVar" autoselect>> <<option "Option 1">> <<option "Option 2">> <<option "Option 3">> <<option "Option 4">> <<option "Option 5">> <</cycle>> !!! Listbox: <<listbox "$listboxVar" autoselect>> <<option "Option 1">> <<option "Option 2">> <<option "Option 3">> <<option "Option 4">> <<option "Option 5">> <</listbox>> !!! Radiobutton: <<radiobutton "$radiobuttonVar" "option 1" autocheck>> Option 1 <<radiobutton "$radiobuttonVar" "option 2" autocheck>> Option 2 <<radiobutton "$radiobuttonVar" "option 3" autocheck>> Option 3 !!! Textarea: <<textarea "$textareaVar" "Type text here..">> !!! Textbox: <<textbox "$textboxVar" "Type answer here">>

The Exile

<img src="images/Main/Title.png"> A Dark Fantasy Epic

by <a href="https://exilethegame.tumblr.com/" target="_blank">Pheo</a>

!Stat page 2 Your stats go here..  <center><<link "Return to game" $return>><</link>></center>

!Heading 1 !!Heading 1 !!!Heading 1 Normal text. Normal text. Normal text. Normal text. Normal text. //emphasised text//. Normal text. Normal text. Normal text. Normal text. Normal text. Normal text. Normal text. ''strong text''. Normal text. Normal text. Normal text. Normal text. Normal text. Normal text. Normal text. Normal text. __underlined text__ Normal text. Normal text. Normal text. Normal text. Normal text. ---- * List item 1 * List item 2 [[Firstname]] [[Link 2]] [[Link 3]] <<button "Button" "More Styles">><</button>>

<center><h1>Act One</h1></center> <center>//A small child approaches a god.//</center> <center>//It beckons them closer.//</center> <center>//One step, ''two step,'' three step-- ''four.''//</center> <center>//Their hand, small, reaches for a comfort not there.//</center> <center>[[A single red string ties around a single red finger.|C1_2]]</center>

<center><h1>Codex </h1></center> <h2> <li> [[People]] </li> </h2> <h2> <li> [[Places]] </li></h2> <h2><li> [[Events]] </li> </h2> <h2><li> [[Lore]] </li> </h2> <center><<back "Return to Game.">></center>

''Content Warnings'' * Strong language * Graphic depictions of violence * Graphic depictions of corpses * Alcohol + drugs * Blood and gore * Animal death * Body horror (trauma to nails, teeth, muscles, and more.) * Primitive thoughts + urges * Loss of self control * Intrusive + Suicidal thoughts * Voice in head * Snakes * Cannibalism, and/or references to it * Self-harm * PTSD (combat) * Depersonalization * Nightmares * Amnesia * Manhandling * Insects + bugs(maggots) * ''War'', and everything that comes along with it, including imperialism, bias against groups of people, stigmas, and more. [[I understand. Take me to the story.|start]]

<center><img src="images/Main/Title.png" max-width = "75%"></center> ''Note'': Welcome to the demo version of //The Exile.// This is Patreon-only content for right now, so please don't share it with others until the public release in a week's time. There's a few pieces of cut content due to certain delays, but they should be finished and updated in a week or two's time. Choices that are unfinished have an ''X'' by them. They might be written out, but be a dead end. //There may be typos of minor coding errors.// If so, post them in the Discord's #Patreon chat or in the comments of the Patreon post! I didn't have alpha readers for this chapter so it was just me playtesting :) ''Rating:'' //The Exile// is rated 18+ for graphic descriptions of violence, heavy and graphic gore, strong language, alcohol usage, sexual content and heavy topics regarding war. A list of specific warnings can be found <span class="test">[[here.|CW]]</span> Please note that some readers may find the game emotionally taxing. The actions and behaviors in-game are not condoned or supported. ''You may see the following symbols in the story:'' ✩ - A special dialogue choice. It could be only available for certain mythosi types, or it could be available thanks to important but optional information that The Commander has found. ✗ - A dialogue choice that will end the conversation early. (Not all early-ended options will be marked, as some choices The Commander makes have unforeseen consequences.) ♥ - Flirt option. If there are flirt options for multiple ROs in a choice set, they will display with the ROs initials after the heart (ex: ♥A for Amilia, ♥Sy for Syfyn) ♡ - Committing to a //past// relationship (only available for Syfyn and Sabir). This does not mean you're stuck romancing them. 💔 - End a romance. [[Begin.|C1_1][$chapter = "Prologue"]]

<center><img src="images/Act I/INTRO_N+J.png"></center> <<notify 5s>>Location Codex Unlocked: Vrithka<</notify>> This is a test. Blah blah blah. Jost. Nikke. Blah. Blah. Blah. This is a test. Blah blah blah. Jost. Nikke. Blah. Blah. Blah. This is a test. Blah blah blah. Jost. Nikke. Blah. Blah. Blah. This is a test. Blah blah blah. Jost. Nikke. Blah. Blah. Blah. This is a test. Blah blah blah. Jost. Nikke. Blah. Blah. Blah. This is a test. Blah blah blah. Jost. Nikke. Blah. Blah. Blah. This is a test. Blah blah blah. Jost. Nikke. Blah. Blah. Blah. This is a test. Blah blah blah. Jost. Nikke. Blah. Blah. Blah. This is a test. Blah blah blah. Jost. Nikke. Blah. Blah. Blah.

<center><h2>Prologue</h2></center> You promised yourself you were done playing hero. You promised yourself it was time to finally settle down, to pretend that everything from //before// was nothing more than a dream: some made-up reality that never truly was. You //promised.// Why can't you just leave it to someone else to be the savior? Why can't you just be content with sitting back and living an uneventful life, joining the crowd of commoners and nobodies who cheer for those in the spotlight? Your time is gone, faded, along with the lives of those you took. You grit your teeth, hands balling into fists at your sides as you creep further and further into the forest. You know //exactly// why you're out here, and the built-up pressure of denial within your chest only further confirms it. *[[You're trying to atone. Maybe... Maybe one day you can fix all of this... Right?|C1_3][$opinion_e to 1]] *[[It's nothing more than a begrudging sense of duty that follows you everywhere, even though you wish for nothing more than to just give up.|C1_3][$opinion_e to 2]] *[[You just want to help people. You keep telling yourself 'this is the last time,' and it just never is.|C1_3][$opinion_e to 3]] *[[You need to make up for what you've done, even if it's unforgivable. That's all you can do, now.|C1_3][$opinion_e to 4]] *[[They were wrong for what they did to you. They should've helped you, instead you were kicked to the side like a bad dog. You'll prove them wrong.|C1_3][$opinion_e to 5]]

/* MC */ <<set $mythosi to 0>> <<set $opinion_e to 0>> <<set $opinion_p to 0>> <<set $evil to 0>> <<set $cursed to false>> <<set $fnn to "">> <<set $aggression to 0>> <<set $stoic to 0>> <<set $genuine to 0>> <<set $sarcasm to 0>> <<set $cursed to false>> <<set $j_e to "">> <<set $vethna_r to 0>> <<set $date_y to "532 AA">> <<set $date_m to "13th of Lustrus">> <<set $cd1 to false>> <<set $cd2 to false>> <<set $cd3 to false>> <<set $cd4 to false>> <<set $cd5 to false>> <<set $cd6 to false>> <<set $cd7 to false>> <<set $companion to "">> <<set $dc to 0>> /* Affinity Variables */ <<set $vethna to 50>> <<set $amilia to 50>> /* Romance Variables */ <<set $vfd to 50>> <<set $nfd to 50>> <<set $syfd to 50>> <<set $sfd to 50>> <<set $afd to 50>> <<set $jfd to 50>> <<set $bfd to 50>> /* Team Variables */ <<set $nikke_res to 25>> <<set $jost_res to 25>> <<set $vethna_res to 75>> /* Health Variables */ <<set $MC_h to "">> <<set $vethna_h to "">> <<set $nikke_h to "">> <<set $jost_h to "">> <<set $amilia_h to "">> <<set $sabir_h to "">> <<set $syfyn_h to "">> <<set $blythe_h to "">> /* Vethna */ <<set $vy_house_lore to false>> /* Amilia */ <<set $necklace to "false">> <<set $aknowc to false>> /*Ch 1*/ <<set $ward to false>> <<set $vregret_t to false>> <<set $aggressive_f1 to false>> <<set $forgivec1_v to false>> <<set $snap_f1 to false>>

<<nobr>> <<if $opinion_e eq 1>> They'll have to forgive you, someday. And if not that, someone has to realize that what happened wasn't your fault, not really. It was an //accident//. No, it was worse than that. You didn't...you //wouldn't//—<</if>> <<if $opinion_e eq 2>> If you could have it your way, you'd be curled up in some dingy little inn drowning yourself in a glass of whiskey. Alas, here you are, freezing your ass off in the middle of butt-fuck nowhere. You tell yourself you don't want to be here. Your heart and intuition say otherwise.<</if>> <<if $opinion_e eq 3>> You lost your ranking, your //title// long ago. And while you're no knight in shining armor after what happened, you still wish to help others. You refuse to turn your back on your country, even after they turned their back on you.<</if>> <<if $opinion_e eq 4>> You feel sick to the stomach every time you remember what happened. You're a monster, a //killer//, and that's something you'll have to live with for the rest of your life. No amount of good deeds can fix what you've done, but you'll keep trying anyways.<</if>> <<if $opinion_e eq 5>> Your frown deepens. You're not stupid, you know what happened was horrific. But no one stopped to look after you, to ask if //you// were okay. Your hands were stained red and your memory practically erased, but no one batted an eye. They just needed a fucking villain to point to. Well, you're //not// a villain, no matter what they say or what you've done—<</if>><</nobr>> "Please, just... just //stop//." You hear it, then. A low voice, somewhere to the left within the woods. You squint your eyes, brushing your hand over the sword at your side for reassurance. "You know I don't want to do this! Don't make this harder than it has to be." You approach, slowly, the mulch crackling beneath your feet. A woman sniffles, and you know now that it's no //mythosi// or monster that you're tasked with killing tonight. No, it's bound to be something twice as worse and just as messy. "You promised you'd help me," another voice replies. The woman. "You promised you'd //protect// me!" "Lnyla, //please,// just come back with me—" //"You swore to protect them, Commander. You broke your oath."// Your eyes squeeze shut, grip on your sword tightening. //Shut up.// *[[It's always like this. The smallest things send you reeling back to that night.|C1_4]] *[[You take in a deep breath. You've learned how to calm yourself down by now.|C1_4]] *[[Your heart lurches. You haven't thought of that night for a long time. You've forced yourself not to.|C1_4]]

Either way, panicking won't solve whatever the hell's happening here. The voices continue to bicker, growing louder and louder. They've made the poor mistake of equating isolation with safety. Worse things lurk in these woods than you. It's the very reason you were sent out to find these kids. //"Please... my daughter. She's just gone without a trace. Just... can you look for her? In the woods?"// <<nobr>><<if $opinion_e eq 2>>Damn you for agreeing.<<else>>You couldn't refuse to help her. Not with the fear in her eyes and the trembling of her voice.<</if>><</nobr>> "I can't believe you'd do this," the woman whispers, betrayal heavy in her voice. "You know what they'll do to me." "They won't do //anything//. Just come back—" You're close enough now to see them. The girl sits on the ground, her dress torn, her hands and body covered in blood. You can't see any wounds on her, however, but then again, it's hard to see anything in the darkness of the night. Above her stands a rather tall man, skin tanned and hair shaved on both sides. You can feel the magic buzzing in the air around you, and if you were to guess, he's the one responsible for it, which can only really mean one thing: he's a magic-user. <center>[[Well... shit.|C1_5]]</center>

<<nobr>><<notify 5s>>Lore Codex Unlocked: Magic-Users<</notify>><<set $co_l4 to true>><<set $co_l5 to true>>Your exile has kept you on the outskirts of Plaithus, jumping from one small town to the next. In the past three years you've encountered a magic-user only a handful of times, oftentimes just as much in hiding as you are. But all of them had been Plaithian, trying to live under the radar of the Crown since they were pushed out of the major cities.<</nobr>> But this man in the clearing is no Plaithian wizard or witch. No. He's a Vygrandian sorcerer. You've dealt with his kind before— back when you used to be somebody. You remember the war like it was yesterday, and in truth, it might as well have been. Vygrandian sorcerers mean one thing, and one thing only: //blood magic//. Just the thought of it has your nose wrinkling in disgust. <center>[[Calm yourself.|C1_6]]</center>

<<notify 5s>>Lore Codex Unlocked: Blood Magic<</notify>><<set $aggression += 2>>You suck in a quiet breath through your nose, hidden in the shadows as you watch the duo. You reason the Vygrander can't be that dangerous if he's bargaining with his... his hostage? Then again, you can't be all that dangerous, either. Your body weighs with exhaustion, not just from traveling and being on the run, but from living. Your heart is far too heavy, mind too dark, for your own good. And your magic? The blood that hums within you from The Old World? It's stagnant by now, cold and congealed and useless. It's a battle between will and magic, it seems, the latter of which you seem to be lacking entirely. *[[Charge in, sword drawn. You have little interest in conversing with a blood sorcerer.|C1_6A]] *[[Approach them both, calmly. You know better than to let your judgment get the best of you.|C1_6B]] *[[Approach them, calmly, your sword drawn. You wish for a peaceful resolution, but you are no fool.|C1_6C]]

Your sword sings as you pull it out in one smooth motion, and both of the figures turn to look at you as you emerge from the wilderness. "Hands up," you growl, blade aimed at the sorcerer. His eyes widen in fear, his feet stumbling over each other as his hands go into the air. You glower at him the entire time you move closer toward the woman. "Who are you?" the sorcerer asks. His voice cracks, goes just a bit too high-pitched. You don't deign him with an answer, opting instead to offer a hand to the woman who sits on the ground, skirts dirtied. She takes it immediately. Her hands are hot and sticky with blood, her dress much the same, and you can see bruising on her face, her cheek swollen and lip busted. You haul her back onto her feet with minimal effort, and when she stumbles, you... * [[Let her.|C1_6A_A]] * [[Grip her hand tighter.|C1_6A_B]] * [[Reach out to steady her.|C1_6A_C]]

"What's going on here?" Both strangers turn to look at you as you step out from the wilderness. The man's grip on the woman's arm tightens as he hauls her up to her feet and close to them, both of the figures wide-eyed and wary. "Nothing," the man breathes. "It's nothing. I'm just... she needs to get home." Your eyes narrow in suspicion before glancing to the woman. Her skirts a bit torn, bloodied all over. Immediately your heart goes quicker, a tingle running through your limbs. "That so?" you murmur, eyes meeting the man's once more. He stiffens beneath the brunt of your gaze, a modicum of fear crossing his gaze. The woman's eyes flicker between both of you before she speaks up, her voice rushed, breathy and shaking. "He was trying to hurt me," she blurts. The man's eyes widen at that, his head rearing to look at her. "A blood sacrifice." "What?" the man breathes out. His eyes widen, gaze glued on her, before he releases her arm and takes a step back, shaking his head. "That's not—that's not true." He doesn't even sound like he believes his own words, however, as his gaze goes to you. Maybe he just needs some encouragement to tell the truth. "Do you know who I am?" you ask, tilting your head. "Because if you did, maybe you'd be less inclined to lie in my face." The woman's gaze immediatley goes to his face, eyes piercing, boring a hole through him as the sorcerer swallows thick. You can sense it rolling off of him in thick, revolting waves. //Cowardice.// He shakes his head slowly. No. He has no clue who you are. And why would he? Your face was hidden behind a mask, your identity concealed beneath an ostentatious title and impractical, aesthetically pleasing armor. Anyone who was anyone in Plaithus aspired to be a //no one//, a faceless entity meant to unsettle the masses. Military leaders, politicians, //nobility,// it was the same for all of you. You were meant to be something greater than the plebians of the world, so much so that they could not even be permitted to see your faces. But that was back when you //were// somebody. And now that you're a nobody, you hold little qualm with throwing out your title while barefaced when the situation demands it. "I'm The <<cycle "$title" autoselect>> <<option "Gilded Gorgon">> <<option "White Wolf">> <<option "Painted Phoenix">> <<option "Deathless Demon">> <</cycle>>." <center>[[Continue.|C1_6B_2]]</center>

"What's going on here?" Both strangers turn to look at you as you step out from the wilderness. The man's grip on the woman's arm tightens as he hauls her up to her feet and close to them, both of the figures wide-eyed and wary. "Nothing," the man breathes. "It's nothing. I'm just... she needs to get home." Your eyes narrow in suspicion before glancing to the woman. Her skirts a bit torn, bloodied all over. Immediately your heart goes quicker, a tingle running through your limbs. "That so?" you murmur, eyes meeting the man's once more. He stiffens beneath the brunt of your gaze, a modicum of fear crossing his gaze. The woman's eyes flicker between both of you before she speaks up, her voice rushed, breathy and shaking. You don't hesitate to unsheathe your sword. You know the likes of him. Vygranders are always quick to lie. They're slippery, slimey things, and after all you've seen, you know better than to trust them at face-value. That, and the bloodied skirts of the woman is //plentiful,// and there's a heavy limp to her leg. She's hurt, plain and simple. You don't have time for games. "Do you know who I am?" you ask, tilting your head. "Because if you did, maybe you'd be less inclined to lie in my face." The woman's gaze immediatley goes to his face, eyes piercing, boring a hole through him as the sorcerer swallows thick. You can sense it rolling off of him in thick, revolting waves. //Cowardice.// He shakes his head slowly. No. He has no clue who you are. And why would he? Your face was hidden behind a mask, your identity concealed beneath an ostentatious title and impractical, aesthetically pleasing armor. Anyone who was anyone in Plaithus aspired to be a //no one//, a faceless entity meant to unsettle the masses. Military leaders, politicians, //nobility,// it was the same for all of you. You were meant to be something greater than the plebians of the world, so much so that they could not even be permitted to see your faces. But that was back when you //were// somebody. And now that you're a nobody, you hold little qualm with throwing out your title while barefaced when the situation demands it. "I'm The <<cycle "$title" autoselect>> <<option "Gilded Gorgon">> <<option "White Wolf">> <<option "Painted Phoenix">> <<option "Deathless Demon">> <</cycle>>." <center>[[Continue.|C1_6B_2]]</center>

[[Resources]] ''All in-game illustrations are done by Judie Omais <a href="https://night-triumphantt.tumblr.com">(Tumblr)</a> //Game was made with Sugarcube 2.36.1//

*Hovertip Macro <a href="https://qjzhvmqlzvoo5lqnrvuhmg.on.drv.tw/UInv/Sample_Code.html#Main%20Menu">by HiEv</a> *Notify Macro <a href="https://twinelab.net/custom-macros-for-sugarcube-2/#/notify-macro">by ChapelR</a>

<<set $stoic += 2>>You release her hand though she tries to tighten her grip on it, watching as the woman trembles and sways a bit where she stands. Her blue eyes briefly meet yours. Something cold shoots down your neck when she does— but before you can qusetion it, you realize her gaze goes right past your head to look at the sorcerer behind you. You follow her eyes, the sorcerer looking stunned now that both of your focuses are on him. You see the exact moment he makes up his mind on what to do, his hands coiling and uncoiling at his sides before they go still, his shoulders straightening. "You can't take her," he says. But even in his demand, his voice waivers. //Can't.// Such a funny word. You //can't// do that. It's not a phrase you're used to hearing. <center>[[Continue.|C1_6A_3]]</center>

<<set $genuine += 2>>By habit, your hands reach out to grab the woman by her shoulders, keeping her upright where she stands. She seems surprised by your touch, recoiling away from you as if expecting you strike. She stays tense in your grasp, her eyes widening as they meet yours. You can see the way she holds her breath before she seems to realize you mean her no harm. It's then, and only then, that her shoulders slacken, her tense muscles loosening as she eases where she stands. Her eyes flicker between yours, her lips parting to speak. Your eyes catch on her lower lip and the dark blood that drips from where it's been busted open. The tiniest breath escapes her, the whispered beginning of a hushed sentence... But it never comes, attention stolen by the sorcerer who stands behind you. There's something dark in her gaze. Resentful. And you're turning to follow it. The sorcerer looks unsettled, briefly, beneath both of your gazes. For a moment, you think he'll be smart enough to falter. To back away. But he doesn't. Instead, you see the exact moment he hardens himself, his hands coiling and uncoiling at his sides before they go still, his shoulders straightening. "You can't take her," he says. But even in his demand, his voice waivers. //Can't.// Such a funny word. You //can't// do that. It's not a phrase you're used to hearing. <center>[[Continue.|C1_6A_3]]</center>

Your grip on the woman's bloodied hand tightens, as does her grip on your own callused palms. She puts some of her weight on you briefly before managing to catch her balance, wincing a bit as she does. Almost hesitantly, her blue eyes flicker up to meet yours. There's a brief second she seems transfixed before she seems to remember the sorcerer who stands behind you, her attention fixing onto him as her gaze hardens. You follow her stare, the sorcerer looking stunned now that both of your focuses are on him. You see the exact moment he makes up his mind on what to do, his hands coiling and uncoiling at his sides before they go still, his shoulders straightening. "You can't take her," he says. But even in his demand, his voice waivers. //Can't.// Such a funny word. You //can't// do that. It's not a phrase you're used to hearing. <center>[[Continue.|C1_6A_3]]</center>

For a moment you do nothing but stare at the man. He's more reminiscent of a toddler deciding to yell at their mother for the first time as opposed to a deadly sorcerer, his face flushed and confidence threatening to crumble at any given second. It's almost endearing, in some pitiful way. You ignore his words, head tilting slightly as your eyes scan him head-to-toe, not bothering to hide your scrutiny. He wears a sash around his waist, royal blue in color. You don't know much of what it means, though you know enough to recognize it as being something only the nobility wear in Vygrand. Whoever it is that stands before you is important... not that he seems it. "You want to know who I am?" you ask, finally speaking as you meet his gaze once more. His brows furrow a little upon hearing the dark tone of your voice, his lips trembling. He nods, then. It's a tiny, nearly imperceptible, shaky little movement. The public never knew who you were. Your face was hidden behind a mask, your identity concealed beneath an ostentatious title and impractical, aesthetically pleasing armor. Anyone who was anyone in Plaithus aspired to be a //no one//, a faceless entity meant to unsettle the masses. Military leaders, politicians, //nobility,// it was the same for all of you. You were meant to be something greater than the plebians of the world, so much so that they could not even be permitted to see your faces. But that was back when you //were// somebody. And now that you're a nobody, you hold little qualm with throwing out your title while barefaced when the situation demands it. "I'm The <<cycle "$title" autoselect>> <<option "Gilded Gorgon">> <<option "White Wolf">> <<option "Painted Phoenix">> <<option "Deathless Demon">> <</cycle>>." <center>[[Continue.|C1_6A_4]]</center>

<<nobr>><<if $title is "Gilded Gorgon">> <<set $beast = "gorgon">> Your armor had been a deep jade with a golden sheen, scales in your chainmail and a long, green reflective cape falling from your shoulders that was kept in place with silver pins of vipers. The metal rattled like the slithering of a snake when you moved, and people whispered stories of The Gilded Gorgon sneaking from the shadows to swallow the Kingdom's enemies whole. You were regarded as clever and quick by your comrades, cunning and, at times, manipulative. But the people had loved you nonetheless. The Mythosi blood left you with long sharp fangs that dripped venom and scaled joints and cheekbones, tongue forking and pupils becoming nothing but slits. The more frustrated and angry you grow over time, the more monstrous and otherworldly you begin to appear.<</if>> <<if $title is "White Wolf">> <<set $beast = "wolf">> Your armor was all white and matte with fur. The hide of a wolf was used as a cloak, its snarling mouth covering your head and hands covered in gauntleted claws. You stuck out in battle among the dark armor, and people had said it was because the enemies of the Kingdoms should know when justice is to be served, see it stalking them from the distance. When you returned, the blood of battle would be easiest to see on you, face and fur drenched in red. The Mythosi blood left you with sharp fangs, claws, and a strength that left many wary of you. When you grow truly angry or focus hard enough, your form shifts into that of a massive wolf.<</if>> <<if $title is "Painted Phoenix">> <<set $beast = "phoenix">> Your armor had been all black with painted splatters of metallic reds, oranges and golds. When the sun shined on you at sunrise and sunset you appeared covered in blood and ever-shifting flames. Many had thought you to appear ethereal, your cape composed of multiple and warm-colored fabrics that bellowed in the winds like a roaring fire. Rubies shined from where they were encrusted within the dark metal. You had been seen as the ultimate protector, a pillar of hope to those who were under your guidance. The Mythosi blood left you with glowing eyes, your hands and legs gone a deep red and veins glowing orange when your emotions get the best of you. Flames cannot harm you, and, if you focus hard enough or grow angry enough, the very element itself will pour out from your hands.<</if>> <<if $title is "Deathless Demon">> <<set $beast = "demon">> Your armor had been a reflective metal that had black matte material smeared over parts of it to appear like fog. In many battles you had been able to simply walk through the haze of war, the mirrored armor acting as a camouflage that had you behind enemy lines without ever being fully seen. Your cape was long, black, and tattered, and on your face sat a deer skull, its horns curling high into the air. You were an omen, the harbinger of death and misfortune to those foolish enough to attack the Kingdom. The Mythosi blood left you with glimmering skin, fangs, and large curled horns of your own. Many are wary of you, and for good reason, demons constantly sitting on your shoulder and offering you words of "wisdom." The more frustrated and angry you grow in time, the less human you appear until you look identical to your hellish compatriots.<</if>><</nobr>> At least... that's how it //used// to be. Does this sound like you? *[[Yes.|C1_6A_5]] *[[No.|C1_6A_4.1]]

"I'm The $title," you state. The corner of the man's lips lift into a nervous, hesitant smile, like he's not sure if he should laugh or not. But your eyes hold his, stare unwavering. It doesn't take long for his smile to fade. You recognize the dawning horror in his eyes easily— pupils shrinking, the whites of his eyes growing. His brows furrow, and for one second, he is entirely unmoving. You step closer to him. He steps back. It's an instinctual response on his end, the movement of a prey animal cornered by a predator. Though you have been left unable to use the powers of your blood for years now, the fact you're not //human// will forever be obvious to those around you. His eyes flicker away from you with what seems to be great effort on his end, his stare landing on the woman who cowers behind you. You don't dare to look away from him— don't dare to follow his gaze. You know his kind, know the tricks they hide up their sleeves. His lips press together, and you can see his thoughts running in his mind in the way his eyes become glassy, expression and body frozen... and then he seems to straighten where he stands, hands balled into fists at his side. "Just... just take her," he breathes, his hands raising in a small sign of surrender. "I don't care." * [['"Not until I learn what you were doing out here."'|C1_6A_5.1]] //Question him.// * [[' "I\'m not here to take her. I\'m here to kill you." '|C1_6A_6A]] //Lie.// * [[' "I\'m not letting you get away that easily." '|C1_6A_6B]] //Arrest him.// * [[Take the woman and leave.|C1_6A_6C]]

No, that wasn't it. You were The <<cycle "$title" autoselect>> <<option "Gilded Gorgon">> <<option "White Wolf">> <<option "Painted Phoenix">> <<option "Deathless Demon">> <</cycle>>." <center>[[Continue.|C1_6A_4]]</center>

- Add an interlude where MC transforms for the first time. - Test to see what subspecies of mythosi they are? - Javier + Lnyla were planning to drug MC and drag them to Vygrand-- Vethna purposely chose that night to find MC

You shake your head slowly, eyes gleaming in the darkness of the night. The man swallows thickly in response. "Not until I know what's going on here," you state, stepping even closer. He steps back... //again,// "I... it's..." "He was trying to sacrifice me," the woman interrupts, coming to stand beside you. Her gaze is dark, and the man's eyes widen at her words. "What?" he breathes. "Sacrifice?" you repeat. The word tastes bitter in your mouth, memories from the war resurfacing. Vygrandian sorcerers boosted their power by using the blood of innocents, often draining them dry without any semblance of remorse or pity for the lives they took. You could only imagine what sort of unsavory things the man intended to do if he succeeded in taking the woman's life. "What the hell kind of magic are you trying to pull off?" you ask. The man shakes his head. You wait, but no words ever manage to leave his mouth. He knows you've already made up your mind on what to do with him. * [[' "I\'m not here to take her. I\'m here to kill you." '|C1_6A_6A]] //Lie.// * [[' "I\'m not letting you get away that easily." '|C1_6A_6B]] //Arrest him.// * [[Take the woman and leave.|C1_6A_6C]]

<<set $aggressive += 2>><<set $evil += 2>><<set $j_e to "dead">><<notify 5s>>You chose to kill Jamie.<</notify>>"I'm not here to take her," you state. voice low. "I'm here to kill you." A silence fills the forest. You don't think either of them expected you to say that. You don't know if //you// even expected to say it. It was a lie. A blatant one. But hell, justice is justice, right? And regardless, your blood longs to draw blood. Your hands yearn to feel it. "What?" The man asks, voice trembling. You don't deign him with a response, opting instead to grasp the hilt of your sword tighter as you approach. The woman backs away from you, the man's feet stumble. This is an execution just like any other. You will make it swift. You will make it //art.// The man's eyes flicker past you to meet the woman's once more... but then you hear rushing, frantic steps, the sound of leaves crunching. She has fled, back to her village no doubt, leaving you and the man alone in the clearing. <center>[[Continue.|C1_6A_6A_1]]</center>

<<set $genuine += 2>><<set $j_e to "v_kill">><<notify 5s>>You chose to let Jamie live.<</notify>>Your eyes flicker between his, noting the frantic rise and fall of his chest even as he tries to steady his breath. He's no threat, not really, and you find yourself lowering your blade as you sheathe it once more. You see his shoulders sag in relief. "You're lucky I'm in a good mood," you warn, and from the look in his eyes, he knows it. You usher the woman to follow you, eyes glued to the sorcerer as he watches you both helplessly disappear into the trees of the woods. It's only when the overgrowth blocks him from view completely that you dare to look away, guiding the way back to the village as the woman follows, stepping over tree roots and ducking beneath vines. But even when the sorcerer is far behind you, you can't rid yourself of the sinking, awful feeling in your gut. Something is wrong. <center>[[Continue|C1_6A_6C_1]]</center>

"You're not getting out of this that easily," you say, approaching him. He cowers away, goes further into his retreat, as his brows furrow in fear and confusion. "What?" "You're under arrest," you say. You don't exactly expect him to just hand himself over without a fight, and as his eyes flicker between your outstretched hand demanding he come closer and the one that grips your sword, you know you're right. "I can't let you do that," the man says, his voice still unsure, unsteady. It comes out as a whisper, more akin to a suggestion than a statement. You can't help but raise a brow at him. "You can't //let// me?" You repeat. He swallows thickly. His eyes hold yours, and this time you can see him slowly steady himself as he shakes his head once more. "No. I can't." His attention has completely left the woman to focus on you, You suck in a steadying breath through your nose, the autumn air crisp. And then you are rolling your shoulders back, and tightening your grip on your sword. "Let's just skip to the interesting part then, hm?" You say. You glance back at the woman behind you, nod for her to run, to head back to her village. She doesn't move more than a few steps back, however, her eyes flickering between you and the man. Fucking hell. It can never be easy, can it? <center>[[You lift your sword above your head.|C1_6A_6B_1]]</center>

The man looks at you. His eyes are pleading. "Please, don't," he murmurs. His voice trembles, his hands shake. You feel his power lash in the air around him, a constant reminder of the true abomination that stands before you. It's just as volatile as him. Just as weak. You lift you sword above your head. His arms raise to cover his face. Sparks ignite from his palms. You smell smoke before you see it. You fall to the ground at the same time the flames erupt from his hands. The heat licks at your skin, embers flying around you and onto the leaf-ridden ground, threatening to set flame to the forest as a whole. Your teeth grit as you bite back a snarl, your eyes lifting to meet the man's. He's delaying the inevitable. You both know it. <center>[[Continue.|C1_6A_6A_2]]</center>

Your hand grabs his calf before he can run. Your <<if $beast eq "phoenix">>talons<<else>>claws<</if>> cut through the thick material of his boot, pulling, //yanking// him down to the ground with you. He begs, but you do not hear the words that leave him as his chest heaves and sputters. It is not the first time someone has begged you for their life. It will not be the last. You're only vaguely aware of the wrestling that follows. His hands push you away. One of his fingers slips into your mouth as he claws at your face, and your teeth snap shut. Blood fills your mouth, your hand lifts your blade up at your side. They never seem to realize when you've stabbed them. There's always a few seconds of hesitation, of disbelief, where the adrenaline lessens the pain and leaves their minds racing with doubt and terror. He tries to speak. Nothing but a weak little hoarse sound escapes the back of his throat, and you take it as an incentive to dig your blade deeper into the space between his ribs, metal grinding against bone. Red spills past his lips as he coughs and cries out, hands pathetically grasping at the blade in an an attempt to escape your onslaught, leaving his palms cut and bloodied. There's something intimate in this act. Something dark, promising, //addicting//. You can hear your own heart thump-thump-thumping in your ears, feel his blood spilling onto your palms, and by the time you remove your sword you are a panting, shaking mess. You can't make out the man's face anymore. It's just one... big... //blur//. No eyes. No nose. Just smeared blood and a gaping hole where his mouth should be, forever pried open in horror as blood covers his tongue and runs between his teeth. //What did you just do?// You drop your sword. Your hands burn. Why do your hands burn? The blood should be warm and hot still, but it is not. It is turning sticky, and cold, and you tremble as you look down at your fingers. <center>[[Continue.|C1_6A_6A_3]]</center>

<<set $cursed to true>> The blood. It's... it's //black.// You blink once, twice, and it's still there. The blood beneath you is black, too, or turning so, anyway. It stinks of dark magic and //rot// and //bile//, and you stumble backwards and onto the ground trying to get away. Your fingers are coated in some kind of silvery sheen, pain shooting through your veins as if your very own blood has turned into acid. A grunt rips itself from your throat as you writhe on the ground, yelling into the dirt to muffle the sound. Maybe, if you're lucky a wolf will find you and put you out of your damned misery. Or, maybe... <center>[[Continue.|C1_6A_6A_4]]</center>

Rushing footsteps, crackling leaves. Your vision blurs, your breath coming out in shallow, hungry breaths. Eyes are on you. //Eyes are on you.// A voice whispers words you cannot hear. Boots come into your ever-narrowing line of sight. A figure kneels beside you, leans over you, You make out a darkened face, features hidden by the darkness of the night. The only thing you see is a pair of two, greyed-out, blue-green eyes glowing above you in the night. A //mythosi// or a magic-user. Neither one seems ideal. Not in these woods. You try to open your mouth, though whether it's to demand help or to tell them to piss off, you don't know. It's not like it matters much. You never get the words out, anyway. <center>[[Darkness consumes you.|C1_7]]</center>

It smells like sage. That's the first thing you notice. That, however, is quickly followed by you realizing that your tongue is glued to the roof of your mouth from how dry it is, each swallow feeling as if someone is dragging sandpaper down your throat. It's a battle to force your eyes to open, and when you do, you have to blink a few times to see clearly. //You're being watched.// You sit up despite your wounds, dagger drawn and pointed at... At... Well, you don't know. What you //do// know is that those eyes are the same ones you saw before you passed out. <center>[['"Glad to see you\'re awake."'|C1_8]]</center>

<center><span class="imgb"><img src="images/Act I/INTRO_Vethna.png"></span></center> A person sits across from you, crossed-legged and reading a book. Their skin is bronze, caramel-colored hair only a few shades darker and falling over their shoulders in wavy strands. You know immediately that you're staring at a noble from how many golden and jeweled rings are on their fingers, their deep, black v-neck gown looking like something ripped out of a museum. A noble magic-user, at that. You can feel their magic in the air. No, more than that, you can feel it //in// you. They can see your expression contort, closing their book shut as they lean back against a tree. "I only healed you. No need to throw a fit, Commander." Your stomach sinks, a glare flashing across your eyes at the title. "How do you know who I—" "Not all of us are as thick as Jamie," they say, cutting you off with an expression of faux-disinterest. You can see the interest that gleams in their eyes despite themself, the way their body leans towards you, observing you like you're a specimen. It's a look you've seen before, countless times, from the nobility back home. "You knew him? That man?" You ask. Their expression is impossible to read, sharp features accentuated by the warm light of the fire they've built. They're attractive, but in a way that's unnerving, almost too perfect and pristine in their finery. <<if $j_e eq "escape">>"I did. Unfortunately," they say, voice smooth. Low. "I'm surprised he managed to get the upper hand on you. Though, I suppose he's proved himself to be quite... weasly, at times." <<else>>"I did," they say, voice smooth. Low. "Until you murdered him." Ah. There it is. Their eyes hold yours for a moment before they shrug, seeming oddly indifferent. "I can't say it wasn't warranted, however. Jamie never was the sharpest blade. It was only a matter of time before the fool fell off the cliff to be <<if $beast eq "gorgon">>swallowed whole by the snake."<<elseif $beast eq "wolf">>torn to shreds by the wolf."<<elseif $beast eq "phoenix">>burnt by the flames of the phoenix."<<else>>dragged into hell by the demon."<</if>><</if>> Their voice is smooth like butterscotch, and the gleam in their eyes has you suspecting they're making fun of either you, or Jamie. Maybe both. *[['"I don\'t have time for riddles."'|C1_8A.1]] *[['"He was an asshole."'|C1_8A.2]] *[['"He was pathetic."'|C1_8A.3]] *[[So, they know who you are. "You've done your research."|C1_8A.4]]

You look around, but find nothing in the shadows other than fleeing rabbits and watchful owls. But it's there, that dread, the //instinct,// You feel magic lingering near you still, so subtle you could miss it completely— like a soft whisper hidden among fluttering leaves. You shift closer to the woman by instinct, your eyes flickering over her. Her blonde hair has gone brown, crusted by where her own blood has dried upon her, her dress torn and in tatters from, you presume, running through the thorny wilds. And yet, she walks so gracefully, shoulders back, chin held high. She wasn't walking like that before, was she? No. There was a subtle limp to her gait, one of her shoulders sagging more than the other. Something is wrong. //This isn't right—// <center>[[Your hand grabs your sword.|C1_6A_6C_2]]</center>

You never manage to pull it from its sheathe. The woman turns to look at you— Lnyla— and even now her gaze is distant, innocent, detached. You thought it to be shock, or fear, but you see it for what it is now as a subtle glow eminates from her blue eyes: calculation, stoicism, //ambition.// And as you go to pull your sword free, another hand wraps around you, pressing a cloth to your mouth and nose, wreaking of some foul smell you do not recognize. You hold your breath, resist the urge to breathe, but the scent clambers up your nose anyhow, your eyes burning from the strength of it, mind turning clouded and dizzy. The woman smiles at you. It's a wry, small thing. It could even be a trick of the light, if it were not for the subtle, sadistic glee that shined in her eyes. By the time you fall to the ground, you do not know which way is up or down. Your vision is hazy, and a shadowed figure straddles you, hands keeping the cloth pinned to your mouth as you find your hands feeling weak and useless. Your eyes struggle to focus on the figure above you, on Lnyla, illuminated by moonlight, lingering over their shoulder. <center>[[Continue.|C1_6A_6C_3]]</center>

Darkness closes in, encircles you, pulsing to your heartbeat as your eyesight fades in and out. Muffled voices, moving, blurred shapes. Lnyla falls back, rushes away. A blade slices across the expanse of the figure's throat who pins you. For a moment, your mind thinks the open wound on their neck to be a red choker before the blood spurts out and onto you, warm and hot, stinging your eyes and painting your face. You taste salt. You taste iron. You taste //death.// The figure falls limp on top of you, bleeding still, your skin becoming warm and tacky. A person stands over you both, blade in hand, greyed-out blue-green eyes staring down upon you, glowing in the night. <center>[[Darkness consumes you.|C1_7C]]</center>

You lift you sword above your head, and //swing,// Metal cuts through air, singing a song that has a shiver running down your spine as the man stumbles back and away. Your blade misses his flesh by less than an inch. You can see the sweat that beads on his skin, glistening beneath the moonlight like a shimmer, see the way his brows furrow in fear as he grits his teeth and bites back a panicked cry. But then his hands are glowing, sparks shooting from his palms like when one strikes a match and fails to burn a flame. You smell the smoke before you see it, and your eyes widen when you see light gather between his palms like fire being born in a dragon's maw. A fireball the size of your head blossoms from his outstretched hands, and you barely have the time to throw yourself behind a tree. The fire hits it, licking at you from both sides of the tree from the impact before all that's left is the smell of burning wood. It's an uncannily comforting smell. But then you hear running steps. The coward's trying to run away. *[[The bastard tried to kill you. Now? It's personal.|C1_6A_6B_A]] //Kill him//. *[[Go after him. You're not so easily deterred.|C1_6A_6B_B]] //Pursue him.// *[[Let him run. This isn't worth it.|C1_6A_6B_C]]

You slip out from behind the tree, feet skidding on the mulchy ground as you set to chase the bastard. An alarmed sound escapes him upon hearing your racing footsteps from behind him, and like most terrified fools, he makes the mistake of looking back. His gait goes off-balanced, just for a moment. His pace slows. It's all you need to push forward, legs moving faster, before you throw yourself at him to close the final gap. You both hit the ground. Hard. Though, luckily for you, Jamie's body breaks most of your fall. <center>[[Continue.|C1_6A_6B_A2]]</center>

You grit your teeth together, feeling the sweat on your skin cool as a breeze blows through the trees. A howling, desperate part of you screams to give chase, to pursue him into the trees until your legs give out beneath you... But why? For what? The woman is safe, regardless... and at the end of the day, //this isn't your problem.// It's a fact you've struggled to come to terms with ever since your exile, but you force yourself to recognize it in this moment. That man isn't your problem. And as of now, he's offically become more effort than is worth expelling. Silently, you sheathe your sword, feeling a familiar hum of satisfaction at the sound it makes. You watch the man run, his boots kicking up mulch and dirt. He looks back at you as he runs. Distantly, a part of you chides at the action. A rookie mistake, looking back. His pace is thrown off, his body goes subtly off-balanced... surely, if you gave chase, you would've been able to catch him. And maybe that knowledge is satisfaction enough. Your eyes meet the man's for a fleeting second. *[[You smile and wave, mockingly.|C1_6A_6B_C2][$sarcasm +=1]] *[[You smile, feeling relief despite yourself.|C1_6A_6B_C2][$genuine +=1]] *[[You glare.|C1_6A_6B_C2][$aggression +=1]] *[[You just watch.|C1_6A_6B_C2][$stoic +=1]]

<<notify 5s>>You killed Jamie.<</notify>><<set $j_e to "dead">>The man breathes quickly and heavily from beneath you, his tanned skin flushed and eyes wide with fear. His eyes glow in the darkness of the night, the light reflecting off your blade as you swing it above your head. His eyes follow it as if transfixed. You've seen the expression on his face at least a thousand times. The look of horror. The look of dread. The moment one realizes their life is coming to a swift, quick end by //your// hands. His lips part to scream, but the sound never escapes his throat. Not really. It dies in the back of his throat as a gargling cry the second your blade slams down through his throat, into the ground below. Red spews from the wound and his mouth, flowing into his nose and eyes as he coughs and sputters. By instinct, he struggles to rise-- to sit up— only to further spear himself on your blade. One of his hands reaches up to claw at you, his fingers digging at your wrist. His palms glow faintly still with magic, and you can feel his fingers stiffen, his wrist fall weak, as slowly his hand drops to his side once more. And then silence. Peaceful, reassuring //silence.// You rip your sword out, using it as a crutch to rise as your muscles cramp and ache. Blood drips from your hands, hot and wet, seeping through your fingers and lingering in the cracks of your flesh. But then your eyes are furrowing, your back straightening. That's not right. It can't be— <center>[[Black blood.|C1_6A_6B_A3]]</center>

<<set $cursed to true>>You blink once, twice, and it's still there. The blood beneath you is black, too, or turning so, anyway. It stinks of dark magic and //rot// and //bile//, and you stumble backwards and onto the ground trying to get away. Your fingers are coated in some kind of silvery sheen, pain shooting through your veins as if your very own blood has turned into acid. A grunt rips itself from your throat as you writhe on the ground, yelling into the dirt to muffle the sound. Maybe, if you're lucky a wolf will find you and put you out of your damned misery. Or, maybe... <center>[[Continue.|C1_6A_6A_4]]</center>

The man breathes quickly and heavily from beneath you, his tanned skin flushed and eyes wide with fear. His eyes glow in the darkness of the night, the light reflecting off your blade as you press it against his throat. He swallows thickly, then, his eyes finally raising to meet yours. "You have no idea what you're doing," he whispers, voice shaking. You'd be lying if you said you weren't surprised at the fact he was speaking at all. Your eyes flicker over them, gaze lingering on the blue sash that sits around his waist. It's fancy, embroidered with gold thread. "Let me guess," you breathe, "you're important, and if I hurt you, your //family// is gonna come and get you, is that right?" You know how Vygranders work— the nobility, anyhow. They throw around their names like they mean something, but they don't. Not here. Not //anywhere.// "Maybe," the man whispers, a bead of sweat running down his temple. You guessed right, it seems. "But they're— they're looking for you." Your brows furrow. Your eyes flicker between his as his own flitter over your face. //They're// looking for you? //Who?// Your mind races with differing suggestions. You're not sure you like any of them. And the ones you do feel like foolish, naive fantasies instead of real answers. *[[Ignore him. You don't want to listen to his nonsense.|C1_6A_6B_B2_A]] *[[Listen. You're curious.|C1_6A_6B_B2_B]]

"Get up," you mutter, shaking your head as you dispel the thoughts the sorcerer implanted in your head. For all you knew, he was just trying to mess with you now that he knew who you were... knew your past with his homeland. You grab him by the back of his neck as you haul him onto his feet, the man grimacing as you do. You realize too late he's grimacing out of preparation for what he's about to do— not because he's terrified of you. [[Contintue.|C1_6A_6B_B2_A2]]

<<notify 5s>>Lore Codex Unlocked: Geldakris + House Mevnrael<</notify>><<set $co_l7 to true>><<set $vy_house_lore eq true>>"They? Who's //they?//" You whisper, your grip on him tightening. Your blade cuts into his neck, a thin line of blood dripping down his skin. "The //Geldakris,//" he stammers. Your eyes narrow as you hear his accent thicken. //Geldakris.// That's what they call the Leading Houses in Vygrand— their little psuedo-government. There are seven of them, though you don't recall them... except for one. House Mevnrael. A bout of hatred and disgust slithers down your spine at the thought of them. They were the big dogs, the name you heard screamed out by enemy soldiers as they descended upon you. //For Vygrand, for Magic, for ''Mevnrael.''// "The Geldakris?" You repeat. "House Mevnrael?" "All of them," he whispers, voice cracking. He swallows thickly again, squirming a little in your grasp as his eyes flicker down to your blade, pressed against jugular. You're pressing down too hard, you realize. You don't loosen your grip. "Why?" You whisper. It can't be for anything good. You led the Plaithian armies against them. You single-handedly took down their most skilled fighters. You slayed the dragon that they launched upon your people, the very one they claimed to be unkillable. //You// are the person they sing cautionary lullabies to their children about at night. The beast beneath the floorboards, the monster beneath the bed. But that was from //Before.// Before your exile. Before the blood within you curdled and turned weak. Now that you're weak, they're hunting you down. And that? That can only mean one thing. They want revenge. //"Why?"// You press again, harder this time. You need answers. <center>[[Continue.|C1_6A_6B_B2_B2]]</center>

The man goes to answer your question. His lips part, but he goes silent suddenly, his gaze growing unfocused. He's not looking at you anymore. He's looking behind you. "Vethna," he breathes. // ... Vethna?// <center>[[Continue.|C1_7B]]</center>

You turn around, moving your blade from the man's throat to raise up at the person who stands behind you. //Vethna.// Your eyes meet theirs, and you can hear your blood rushing in your ears. Another //fucking// Vygrander. Their magic is thick, suffocating, coiling around you with each breath. How did you not notice them approaching? //Careless,// you think. You're getting //careless.// <center>[[The Vygrander raises their hands in a placating gesture.|C1_7B_2]]</center>

"Easy there, Commander," they murmur. //Commander.// You scowl at the title, your skin crawling as your grip on your sword tightens. Your foot presses against the man's chest who lays on the forest ground still, guaranteeing he doesn't try anything stupid while your attention lies elsewhere. "How do you know who I am?" You hiss. //Vethna's// brows raise, as if the question you ask is an obvious one. As if you are stupid to be asking it. "Not all of us are as dim-witted as Jamie," Vethna replies cooly, their gaze flickering to the man you keep pinned. Their eyes glow a greyed-out green-blue. It's a hauntingly pretty sight. //Jamie.// So that's the idiot you have pinned, then. You glance down at him, but his eyes are glued on Vethna. He looks just as scared of them as he seems scared of you. <center>[[Continue.|C1_7B_3]]</center>

//Hells.// What did you just land yourself into? Two Vygrandian sorcerers in one night, in the //same// place... it just screams bad news, and you're in no condition to do anything about it, not really— not that you can let either of them know it. You look back at Vethna, but they're already staring at you. You swallow thickly, and opt to take in the chance to stare at them just as unabashedly as they stare at you. Their skin is bronze, and their hair is the exact color but a few shades darker, falling over their shoulders in wavy strands. Golden rings cover their fingers to the point it's excessive, and they wear a black v-neck gown with enough jewels and gleaming thread on it to look like it was ripped out of a museum. It's gaudy, you think. Pompous. Your eyes flicker up just as their red-painted lips curl into a sly smile. <center>[[Continue.|C1_7B_4]]</center>

<<set $j_e to "together">>"You know him then?" you ask, gesturing back at where the man, Jamie, is spraweled out on the forest floor. "You gonna kidnap another woman with him? Try and make a blood sacrifice?" Vethna's brows raise at that before they look at Jamie, lips pressing together. The man swallows thick only to scramble in response, raising his hands in an attempt to convey innocence. "That's... that's //not// what was happening, Veth, I swear—" "Oh?" Vethna muses. "It was //Lnyla.// I was trying to stop her, I swear to the gods." You watch the little interaction between the two of them. They know each other, clearly, but there's a certain level of distaste painted on Vethna's features from where they tower above him, side-stepping your blade to kneel beside him. You let them. You don't exactly plan on throwing yourself in the midst of sorcerer business. Vethna grips the man's face, their sharpened nails digging into his flesh. They tilt his head this way and that, lips pulling into a frown, their gaze distant. "You're just as spineless as ever, I see." *[['"Wait—you weren\'t trying to hurt that woman?"'|C1_7B_4A]] *[['"How do you two know each other?"'|C1_7B_4B]] *[['"Two Vygrandian sorcerers in the middle of the Plaithian wilderness. Now what are the chances of that?"'|C1_7B_4C]] *[[This is none of your business. You did what was asked, now leave.|C1_7B_4D]]

Another ball of flame comes at you from between his hands, and the only thing you're able to do is raise your arms to brace for the impact. You stumble back as a pained growl spills past your lips. It burns. It //hurts.// pain is nothing new. Not to you. You rear your head back up, teeth bared in a snarl— but the man dodges your hand as you swipe to grab him. You can feel the burning in your arms still, and you catch a glimpse of your burning skin in your periphery, the fabric of your shirt melting into your skin. Frustration arises within you as you find yourself dodging one flame after the other. You're //better// than this. //Smarter// than this. And yet, here you are. Dancing around like a fool, unable to get ahold of the pathetic excuse for a sorcerer in front of you. You're off your game. But you've been off it for a long while, haven't you? <center>[[Continue.|C1_6A_6B_B2_A3]]</center>

<center><span class="imgb"><img src="images/Act I/INTRO_Vethna.png"></span></center> Memories flicker into your hazy mind. The warmth of the blood that spilled onto you, the heavy, crushing weight of a man falling onto you as he died on your chest... "Who are you?" You spit. The sorcerer's brows raise, and you want to spit at their audacity to act surprised by your hostility. They seem to be in no rush to try and answer you, their gaze flickering back to a book that sits in their lap as they finish reading the page. It's only then that they close it and look at you, a low hum coming from their throat as they tilt their head while regarding you. You only raise your dagger higher up, drawing their gaze to the blade in mixture of amusement and idle disinterest. "I believe you owe me a thanks," the stranger says. Their eyes bore into yours, a subtle quirk curling their red-painted lips into a smile. *[["I owe you nothing," you growl.|C1_8CA]] *[[Hesitate before you lower the knife. "Thank you."|C1_8CB]] *[['"Thank you. Now who the fuck are you?"'|C1_8CC]] *[[Stay silent. You're not saying a goddamn word.|C1_8CD]]

Your sword clips his arm— you can feel the brunt of the contact shoot through the sword and your arms as you watch red blossom in the sleeve of his robes, the cut you left revealing the open wound through muscle and flesh. It's a familiar sight, that red. So dark it's almost black, vibrant as it runs down his flesh in rivulets that gleam in the light of the moon. You know the smell of it well. The //taste//... And then you see bright light in your periphery before you are enshrouded in flames once more. And it burns. It burns, it //burns,// it //''burns''//. <center>[[Fall to your knees.|C1_6A_6B_B2_A4]]</center>

<<notify 5s>>Jamie escaped.<</notify>><<set $j_e to "escape">>Your body drops to the earth as you put out the flames, shaking your head and cursing beneath your breath. Your hands grab the wet earth beneath you to smother the flickering fire until there is no more, and you are left with raw, red hands and the bubbling flesh of your arms. Your bracers and armor managed to block out most of the heat, but your shirt is covered in holes, singed to reveal your injured flesh underneath. <<nobr>><<if $beast eq "phoenix">>Bitterly, you think of Before. The time before your exile. The time when you used to //be// someone. The time when fire was your companion, incapable of harming you. And yet... here you are now, twitching and maimed on the forest floor in the middle of nowhere.<<else>>Bitterly, you clench your fists, finding comfort in the dull ache that simmers over your skin when you do. This is pathetic. //You're// pathetic. Curled up on the forest floor, injured and maimed like a soldier sent to combat for the first time.<</if>> And, just to add insult to injury, you can hear the rushing footsteps of the sorcerer's retreat, your hazy vision just barely capable of making out his form. <</nobr>> You think you see him stop before disappearing into the tree line. Think you see him turn back and look at you. But then he's gone. //Escaped.// You can't help but scoff. Some hero you are. <center>[[Continue.|C1_6A_6B_B2_A5]]</center>

You become all too aware of how hot your skin is. You feel the heat radiating from you, and every gust of a breeze that blows through the trees reignites the pain in your body. You writhe on the ground, face burrowing into the dirt. It's pathetic, you know this, but what else is there to do than stew in your own misery? Maybe, if you're lucky, a wolf will find you and put you out of your damned misery. Or, maybe... <center>[[Continue.|C1_6A_6B_B2_A6]]</center>

Rushing footsteps, crackling leaves. Your vision blurs, your breath coming out in shallow, hungry breaths. Eyes are on you. //Eyes are on you.// A voice whispers words you cannot hear. Boots come into your ever-narrowing line of sight. A figure kneels beside you, leans over you, You make out a darkened face, features hidden by the darkness of the night. The only thing you are are a pair of two, greyed-out, blue-green eyes glowing above you in the night. A //mythosi// or a magic-user. Neither one seems ideal. Not in these woods. You try to open your mouth, though whether it's to demand help or to tell them to piss off, you don't know. It's not like it matters much. You never get the words out, anyway. <center>[[Darkness consumes you.|C1_7]]</center>

<<set $j_e eq "mercy">><<notify 5s>>You let Jamie go.<</notify>>You watch he disappears into the treeline, beyond your sight... though your eyes linger, still, watching and waiting for something... though you don't know what. You give up after a moment. You're left in the raucousnessof the forest, cicadas buzzing, crickets singing, owls hooting. The man's good and gone, and you can only hope it doesn't come back to bite you in the ass later. But for now, you want a place to plant your ass and drink. You sheathe your weapons before stalking off back towards the village, your feet dragging over dead leaves in the forest. You have no intention of sticking around here for long. You thought this place was supposed to be small, unassuming. So far it's just been a clusterfuck. *[[It hasn't been so terrible. You needed the excitement.|C1_6A_6B_C2_A]] *[[You're exhausted. The only reason you work as a merc is to get enough money to make a normal life.|C1_6A_6B_C2_B]] *[[The only thing you're capable of thinking about now is if you'll be able to find a seat at the tavern.|C1_6A_6B_C2_C]]

"I don't have time for riddles," you state. Vethna smiles. "Of course you don't. You've never been known to be a particular //patient// person." "Stop with the games." "Not a game. A statement," they say, brushing back some of their hair over their shoulder. You chew on your cheek for a moment, trying to push down your annoyance. "Who even are you?" you ask. The stranger seems kind enough, all things considered, even if their personality is leaving something to be desired. They saved your life, after all. But you're not naive. You doubt they saved you out of the kindness of their heart, especially after what happened with their... you struggle to find the right word. Their //acquaintance?// <center>[[Continue.|C1_9]]</center>

"He was an asshole," you drawl. Vethna raises a brow, but doesn't look at you. "He probably would've said the same about you." You scowl. "Who even are you?" you ask. The stranger seems kind enough, all things considered, even if their personality is leaving something to be desired. They saved your life, after all. But you're not naive. You doubt they saved you out of the kindness of their heart, especially after what happened with their... you struggle to find the right word. Their //acquaintance?// <center>[[Continue.|C1_9]]</center>

"He was pathetic," you state, watching the flames. You can feel the stranger's gaze on you. "We all are, in our own ways," they murmur. For a moment, their voice sounds genuine. Reflective. But by the time you go to meet their gaze, you find they've already joined you in watching the fire. "Who are you?" you ask, watching the shadows flicker on their face. The stranger seems kind enough, all things considered, even if their personality is leaving something to be desired. They saved your life, after all. But you're not naive. You doubt they saved you out of the kindness of their heart, especially after what happened with their... you struggle to find the right word. Their //acquaintance?// <center>[[Continue.|C1_9]]</center>

"You've done your research," you comment. They look at you. "I suppose." You both stare at each other in silence. "Who are you?" you ask. The stranger seems kind enough, all things considered, even if their personality is leaving something to be desired. They saved your life, after all. But you're not naive. You doubt they saved you out of the kindness of their heart, especially after what happened with their... you struggle to find the right word. Their //acquaintance?// <center>[[Continue.|C1_9]]</center>

They look at you, gaze piercing. "Vethna," they say. "Vethna //what//?" Their stare is unreadable, their lips defiantly staying pressed together. Your eyes narrow, but they don't seem much intimidated. You can't entirely blame them. You weren't exactly sparkling in terms of first impressions. "Vethna Balvent," they say, finally. Their expression sours a bit at the confession, and upon seeng the way your brow furrows in an attempt to connect the name to some notable house, they sigh. "Don't bother," they mutter. You can't help but be taken aback by their curtness, and their expression softens a bit then as if realizing their own rudeness. It could've just been a trick of the light, however, considering how quickly their expression is distant and unreadable once more. "Look," they say, leaning forward slightly so the firelight reflects in their gaze, "who I am doesn't matter. What matters is //I// know who you are, and I need you." "You need what?" you drawl. "A washed up mercenary?" What they say next has you scowling. Your name, your //real// name, comes flowing past their lips. "No," they state, voice firm. "I need... * [['"Elaine..."'|C1_10][$name to "Elaine"]] * [['"Tobias..."'|C1_10][$name to "Tobias"]] * [['"Juniper..."'|C1_10][$name to "Juniper"]] * [[My name's none of these.|C1_9.1]]

"I need $name..." * [['"Lynzal..."'|C1_11][$name_l to "Lynzal"]] * [['"Vamirel..."'|C1_11][$name_l to "Vamirel"]] * [['"Kalesko..."'|C1_11][$name_l to "Kalesko"]] * [[My last name's none of these.|C1_10.1]]

//What's your name? Make sure to capitalize it.// <<textbox "$name" "Type name here">> <center>[[Continue.|C1_10]]</center>

"I need $name $name_l. I need the ex-commander of Plaithus. I //need// The $title." Each word that leaves their mouth has your scowl deepening, your fists clenching in your lap. You haven't gone by that name since you've been exiled, and just //hearing// it again has you feeling physically ill. *[['"Well, you\'re shit out of luck. The "' + $title + '" is dead."'|C1_12.1]] *[['"If you know half as much as you pretend to, you\'d know I\'m useless to you."'|C1_12.2]] *[[Look them over. "You seem perfectly capable of handling yourself."|C1_12.3]] *[['"The "' + $title + '"? You must be in pretty deep shit, then."'|C1_12.4]] *[[Say nothing. Just glower.|C1_12.5]]

//What's your //last// name? Make sure to capitalize it.// <<textbox "$name_l" "Type name here">> <center>[[Continue.|C1_11]]</center>

<<set $sarcasm += 2>>"Well, you're shit out of luck. The $title's dead," you state, sticking out your hands to warm them at the fire. <<if $j_e eq "dead">> Idly, you glance at your hands, seeing them devoid of the shimmer that Jamie's cursed blood placed upon you. You can't help but flex your hands into fists a few times just to double-check the pain is well and truly gone, ignoring Vethna's observant gaze as you do so. It seems they really did heal you.<<elseif $j_e eq "escape">>Idly, you glance at your hands and arms, eyes flickering over the burnt holes in your shirt. The flesh underneath looks untouched, and even as you feel the heat of the fire whisper over you skin, there is no residual pain. It seems Vethna really did heal you.<<elseif $j_e eq "v_kill">>Idly, your gaze catches on the blood covering your sleeves, suddenly becoming painfully aware of the sticky and flaking blood that covers your entire body still. Surprisingly, you have no headache, and there's no burn in the back of your throat. It seems Vethna's healed you, in one way or another.<<else>>Idly, you watch the flames dance, enjoying the warmth that blossoms in your palms.<</if>> "That's strange," Vethna muses, "considering I'm looking at you right now." You clench your jaw, sucking in a sharp breath as if that'll calm you any. And then you force yourself to meet their eyes. Their gaze feels weighty. Purposeful. You don't like it. It screams trouble, and after the mess you just found yourself in, the last thing you want is //trouble.// "You know what?" you rasp. Vethna hums inquisitively, though you can hear a wary note behind it. "I'm not so sure I care to hear a proposition coming from the likes of someone like you." Vethna blinks, entirely unphased and entirely unimpressed. You almost wonder if they even heard you. <center>[[Continue.|C1_13]]</center>

<<set $genuine += 2>>"If you know half as much as you pretend to, you'd know I'm useless to you," you state, shaking your head as you extend your hands to warm them by the fire. <<if $j_e eq "dead">> Idly, you glance at your hands, seeing them devoid of the shimmer that Jamie's cursed blood placed upon you. You can't help but flex your hands into fists a few times just to double-check the pain is well and truly gone, ignoring Vethna's observant gaze as you do so. It seems they really did heal you.<<elseif $j_e eq "escape">>Idly, you glance at your hands and arms, eyes flickering over the burnt holes in your shirt. The flesh underneath looks untouched, and even as you feel the heat of the fire whisper over you skin, there is no residual pain. It seems Vethna really did heal you.<<elseif $j_e eq "v_kill">>Idly, your gaze catches on the blood covering your sleeves, suddenly becoming painfully aware of the sticky and flaking blood that covers your entire body still. Surprisingly, you have no headache, and there's no burn in the back of your throat. It seems Vethna's healed you, in one way or another.<<else>>Idly, you watch the flames dance, enjoying the warmth that blossoms in your palms.<</if>> <<if $j_e != "dead">>"Correction. You're useless //against// sorcerers. Not useless //to// one," Vethna states, seeming far-too pleased of themself. "And if things go smoothly, the people I'll need you fighting are anything but magic-users." You hate that their words pique your interest, and you can't fight the scowl on your face as you force yourself to meet Vethna's eyes, <<else>>"If you were use useless, Jamie's body wouldn't be rotting a few hundred feet from us right now," Vethna states, their tone leaving little room for argument. "He's a far cry from the fiercest sorcerer, it's true, but most would be dead facing against him, anyhow." You wonder if they know how insulting their words feel. It's like a consulatary prize. //Congratulations, $name, you're stronger than a weak-kneed recruit.// You can't help but scoff, lifting your eyes to meet Vethna's. You regret it the second you do. <</if>> Their gaze feels weighty. Purposeful. You don't like it. It screams trouble, and after the mess you just found yourself in, the last thing you want is //trouble.// "You know what?" you rasp. Vethna hums inquisitively, though you can hear a wary note behind it. "I'm not so sure I care to hear a proposition coming from the likes of someone like you." Vethna blinks, entirely unphased and entirely unimpressed. You almost wonder if they've even heard you. <center>[[Continue.|C1_13]]</center>

<<set $genuine += 2>>You scan Vethna over head-to-toe, ignoring their words in favor of scrutinizing them. They're thin, weak-looking, but then again... most Vygranders are. Their pursuits hardly lie in things like the physical body. No, they're more concerned with the mystical arts. The //arcane//, as Sabir used to say. Regardless, you feel Vethna's magic. It's strong to the point it's sickening, surrounding you, filling the air you breathe. It makes the woods hum with life, makes the hair on the back of your neck stand on end with the feeling of paranoia and anticipation. You have the strange feeling if you were to lunge across the flames and put your knife to their neck, they'd have no problem finding a way out of your grasp. They don't feel like prey. Don't feel weak. And something about that unnerves you. "You seem perfectly capable of handling yourself," you muse, your eyes meeting theirs. They shift beneath your stare, lips pressing together in the most fleeting expression of discomfort. "Well, it's not myself that needs handling," they state, straightening their shoulders once more, their passive expression returning tenfold. Your lips threaten to twitch into a scowl. Their gaze feels weighty, //purposeful,// and you don't like it one bit. It screams trouble, and after the mess you just found yourself in, the last thing you want is //trouble.// "You know what?" you rasp. Vethna hums inquisitively, though you can hear a wary note behind it. "I'm not so sure I care to hear a proposition coming from the likes of someone like you." Vethna blinks, entirely unphased and entirely unimpressed. You almost wonder if they even heard you. <center>[[Continue.|C1_13]]</center>

<<set $aggression += 2>> <<if $j_e eq "dead">>Idly, you look at your hands as Vethna talks, seeing them devoid of the shimmer that Jamie's cursed blood placed upon you. You can't help but flex your hands into fists a few times just to double-check the pain is well and truly gone.<<elseif $j_e eq "escape">>Idly, you look at your hands and arms, inspecting the burnt holes in your shirt. The flesh underneath looks untouched, and even as you feel the heat of the fire whisper over you skin, there is no residual pain. It seems Vethna really did heal you.<<elseif $j_e eq "v_kill">>Idly, you look at the blood covering your sleeves, suddenly becoming painfully aware of the sticky and flaking blood that covers your entire body still. Surprisingly, you have no headache, and there's no burn in the back of your throat. It seems Vethna's healed you, in one way or another.<<else>>Idly, you watch the flames dance, enjoying the warmth that blossoms in your palms.<</if>> "The $title, huh?" You murmur, your eyes finally meeting Vethna's expectant gaze. Their expression is impossible to read, lips pressed together, face a serene mask of apathy. But their eyes betray something vulnerable. Some sort of desperate need for you to say //yes.// You take their silence as confirmation, and you can't help the solemn hum that comes from the back of your throat, sounding more like a quiet growl than anything. "You must be in some pretty deep shit then," you muse. "Not many people have tried to privately commission //the// Commander." "Stop talking about yourself like you're dead." "Might as well be if it's The $title you're looking for," you mutter, kicking the mulch beneath your feet just to have something to do. You can see Vethna's lips threaten to turn into a scowl, the dim light of the fire dramatizing their every grimace. "I didn't travel all this way to take no as an answer," Vethna states simply. You can hear the stubbornness in their voice, almost childish in its finality. Your lips threaten to twitch into a scowl. Their gaze feels weighty, //purposeful,// and you don't like it one bit. It screams trouble, and after the mess you just found yourself in, the last thing you want is //trouble.// "You know what?" you rasp. Vethna hums inquisitively, though you can hear a wary note behind it. "I'm not so sure I care to hear a proposition coming from the likes of someone like you." Vethna blinks, entirely unphased and entirely unimpressed. You almost wonder if they even heard you. <center>[[Continue.|C1_13]]</center>

<<set $stoic += 2>>You say nothing, opting instead to glower at the sorcerer. You feel tired, and hearing your old title on their tongue has a weariness settling over you that you thought you'd left in the past. You resent this stranger for uttering it— but more-so, you resent the hesitant hope that threatens to shine in their eyes as they say it. "Please," Vethna blurts suddenly. They seem to shock themself just as much as they confuse you,, a sliver of desperation seeping into their voice. It takes you aback. There's a sort of childish nature to them at the bit back fear in their expression, the anxiety that lingers in their tense body-language that you only seem to just now be noticing. And now that you see it, you can't stop noticing every nervous tick. The way their lips are pressed together a little ''too'' tightly, the way their sharp fingernails dig into their flesh from where their hands are clasped together. "I can pay you," they add, voice threatening to waver. You raise a brow at them as they pull out a small satchel of what sounds to be coins. They watch you expectantly as your eyes flicker from their offering hand to them and back again, and when you take the satchel from them, you weigh it in your hands. Well... //shit.// It's not light, that's for sure, and you know without looking it's filled with gold. Even so, you can't help but open the pouch and pull out a single coin, inspecting it idly. It could be glamor. or some sort of illusion. You wouldn't put it beneath a Vygrander, that's for sure, and it's only when the metallic tang of the coin hits your nose that you drop it back in the pouch and tie it shut once more. "And what am I protecting you from?" you ask, glancing back at them. <center>[[Continue.|C1_16]]</center>

"Someone like me?" they repeat, raising a brow. You say nothing, barely even giving them a nod in response as Vethna's teeth clench together just barely. Their eyes flicker off to the side then, focused on nothing, expression oddly instrospective. "Perhaps you're right. Maybe this was all just one big waste of time," they admit.<<if $j_e eq "v_kill">> "I did have to save //you// after all, which I suppose //does// draw into question your own competence. I might have more luck looking for protection from someone else... From someone who can actually //hold their own,"// they specify, looking at you.<<elseif $j_e eq "escape">> "I'm not all that sure //I// want to employ you after watching your little spat with Jamie. I might have more luck looking for protection from someone else... From someone who can actually //hold their own,"// they specify, looking at you.<<elseif $j_e eq "dead">> "It's like you said. You're just a washed up mercenary. I might have more luck looking for protection from someone else... From someone who can actually //hold their own,"// they specify, looking at you.<<else>> [WIP]<</if>> It's almost comedic how blatantly they goad you— but it's not until one word leaves their mouth that something in you snaps. "Someone less broken," they clarify. "And clearly, that's not you." ''//Broken.//'' It's like poking at an exposed nerve. Something about those two little syllables has you internally cringing, and somehow, it seems like Vethna //knows// it. *[[Lunge at them.|C1_14A]] *[[Ignore them. You refuse to take the bait.|C1_14B]] *[[Mess with them.|C1_14C]] *[['"Shut up," you growl.'|C1_14D]] *[['"Oh really? Well how weak do you have to be then to be hiring me?"'|C1_14E]]

<<notify 5s>>Place Codex Unlocked: Vrithka<</notify>>"Not important." "Interesting how nothing about you is important, and yet you somehow know everything about me," you state. "I believe that's called having the upper-hand." "In politics, maybe," you muse, tilting your head slightly. "But I wouldn't go so far as to claim you have any advantage. Not here. Not now." Your hand settles on the hilt of your sword just to prove your point, and Vethna's gaze flickers to follow before they shake their head a little, pushing away whatever macabre thoughts you've filled their mind with. "It's nothing you can't handle, I'm sure," Vethna states, looking at you, meeting your gaze. "They won't be Vygranders, if that's what you're asking." If not Vygranders... "Vrithkans," you state. Vethna swallows, then nods once. You look at them consideringly. They look... //vulnerable//, almost, as they watch you: unsure of themself. You let out a sigh, partially dragging your hand over your face. Vethna's hands clasp together in nervousness. "I can pay you every month," they add quickly. "I have the means." *[['"I don\'t want your money."'|C1_17.1]] *[['"No," you wave your hand at them, "an initial payment\'s fine."'|C1_17.2]] *[['"... fine."'|C1_17.3]]

<<set $aggression += 2>>The most warning you give is an angered huff escaping you before you're leaping to your feet, lunging across the flames as you grab for Vethna's throat. They laep back in the knick of time, eyes widened as something akin to fear briefly flashes over their features... Only to be replaced by resolve, and some sort of satisfaction that has your gut sinking. You played right into their hand, and you know it. But you don't care, too focused on getting your hands on them as the two of you begin circling each other across the fire— Vethna fleeing your constant stalking pursuit. "Just because you're quick to anger doesn't mean you're capable," Vethna says. Their lips part to say another smart comment, their brows raising in an overconfident and amused expression... but the words never manage to leave their lips. You jump over the fire, practically tackling Vethna as you grab hold of them in your arms. Instinct takes over as you twist their arm behind their back with ease, your forearm wrapped around their throat as you keep their back pinned to your chest. "I'm the broken one, huh?" You rasp, tugging on their arm harder just to hear them suck in a sharp, pained breath. "Why don't you use that magic of yours to free yourself then?" You wait, feeling your heart beat quickly in your chest from anticipation... but nothing happens. //Just like you expected.// They just stand there, silent and breathing heavily, and you can't help but feel some kind of cruel satisfaction from how helpless they are. *[[You like this more than you should. ♥|C1_14A_A][$vethna_r +=1]] *[[Shove them away.|C1_14A_B]]

<<set $stoic += 2>>You don't respond, and you can practically see the sorcerer's shoulders tense in response, painfully aware of the lack of influence they hold over you. "If you need me to protect you," you pause to stoke the fire, "then that means something is wrong with your magic." "Or maybe I'm just pathetic, like Jamie," they muse, watching you poke the burning logs. It doesn't sound like a joke, and they're certainly not smiling as they say it. They stand up, approaching your side of the fire before crouching beside you. They smell like jasmine, and you can't help but be taken aback by their sudden proximity. You don't know what their angle is, don't know what they want, don't know how else they're going to try and manipulate you... And, in truth, you have no desire to find out. "I've met people like you, before," you say. "Sly, Cunning. Dangerous when you want to be." You look at them, and their smug expression turns to idle curiosity, their blue-green eyes watching you carefully. "So, what's stopping you from that?" you ask. "What's stopping you from taking what you want?" Your gaze pierces right through them, and you watch them swallow nervously despite their composed expression, clearly not having anticipated this kind of response from you. *[[You can't help but notice how your skin tingles sitting this close to them. ♥|C1_14B_A][$vethna_r +=1]] *[[Your eyes narrow.|C1_14B_B]]

<<set $sarcasm += 2>>You force a grin, and the action seems to take Vethna off guard. I took //most// people off guard, even in the military. No one expected the legendary commander themself to be an asshat. "Want me to give you a list of references?" you ask. "Just tell them $name sent you— I'm sure they'll be real accomadating." you drawl, sarcasm dripping from your voice, "ya know, if you ask them to ignore the whole murdering thing. //Or//, if you'd prefer, I'm sure I can call up some mercenary friends of mine. Fair warning, they //are// murderous back-stabbing sadists with varyingly questionable interests, but hey, beggars can't be choosers right?" Vethna blinks, brows furrowed in confusion, and you can't help the way your grin widens at their stunned state. "Sorry... too much too soon?" you ask, feigning obliviousness. *[[Try to fluster them. ♥|C1_14C_A][$vethna_r +=1]] *[[That's enough... for now.|C1_14C_B]]

<<set $aggression += 2>>"Shut up," you growl, glaring at the fire as if that'll help calm you any. Vethna watches you in silence, and you can't help the way your jaw clenches when they stand up to approach you, crouching down at your side far too close for comfort. Their gaze is deceptively soft, and your hands ball into fists in response, feeling your own nails biting into your skin. "What?" They ask, tilting their head, their voice gentle. "Sore topic? It's an unfortunate truth, Commander. You're //weak.//" It's not the first time you've heard those words uttered to you in such a mocking, pitying way. You doubt it'll be the last. Faces flash in your mind from your past, bitterness rising within you like bile, and when you turn to look at Vethna where they sit, you give them the darkest look you can muster. They only give a subdued smile in response. "And you aren't?" you retort, leaning closer. Their eyes widen almost imperceptibly at the quiet growl-like quality of your voice. "If you need to hire someone to protect you, you're clearly not at peak physicality, either, <<hovertip "''Mavikras:'' 'Sore - e - crews' : sorcerer, noun">>//soricrus//<</hovertip>>." "That word's an honor, where I come from," Vethna says, ignoring the way you spit it out like a slur. "Of course it is. Your kind always had a way of idolizing the profane." Vethna's lip twitches at that, a dark look passing over their eyes before they look away. *[['"Can\'t take it as good as you give it, huh?" ♥'|C1_14D_A][$vethna_r +=1]] *[['"Calm down."'|C1_14D_B]]

<<set $genuine += 2>>"How weak do you have to be, then, to be hiring me to protect you?" you retort. Vethna's eyes widen, and it's clear of all the responses they had planned to respond to, this was somehow not one of them. So, they simply skip over it instead, their gaze going off to the side as their brows furrow subtly. "Look, you don't have to like me, and I don't have to like you," they say, getting up to approach you. You stand up, refusing to let them tower over you. *[["What if I want to like you?" ♥|C1_14E_A][$vethna_r +=1]] *[[Let them keep talking.|C1_14E_B]]

You shove them away from you, and they stumble, almost tripping before they catch hold of a tree to balance themself. The glare they send your way could kill a man. "You can't, can you?" you ask. "Your magic. You can't use it." Their expression stays dark, a mixture of annoyance and bitterness as their chest heaves in an attempt to catch their breath. "Will you help me or not?" they ask, their voice short. //Good.// "Depends," you muse, "will you make it worth my time or not?" <center>[[Continue.|C1_15]]</center>

<<set $vethna_wf eq true>>They struggle against you for a moment before realizing it's futile, their heart hammering so hard in their chest that you can feel it. "That's the problem, isn't it?" you ask, grip tightening. "You can't, for whatever reason it is. You're fresh out of juice." They don't argue, and for some reason, that feels like more of a success than capturing them did. You can feel them swallow against your forearm, their hands gripping it to try and loosen your grasp on them. "Will you help me or not?" they ask, their voice short. //Good.// You pause for a moment, considering, and let out a raspy hum in response, letting them go from your grip. They're quick to turn on their heel to face you, their hand touching their throat as their chest heaves. You can't tell if they're horrified by you or fascinated. <center>[[Continue.|C1_15]]</center>

"I can pay you," they state, like it's obvious. You blink at each other before Vethna reaches to their belt, unclasping a small pouch. You raise a brow at them as they hold it out to you, the pouch clinking with what must be coins. They watch you expectantly as your eyes flicker from their offering hand to them and back again, and when you take the satchel from them, you weigh it in your hands. Well... //shit.// It's not light, that's for sure, and you know without looking it's filled with gold. Even so, you can't help but open the pouch and pull out a single coin, inspecting it idly. It could be glamor. or some sort of illusion. You wouldn't put it beneath a Vygrander, that's for sure, and it's only when the metallic tang of the coin hits your nose that you drop it back in the pouch and tie it shut once more. "And what am I protecting you from?" you ask, glancing back at them. <center>[[Continue.|C1_16]]</center>

Your eyes narrow, and Vethna offers a bittersweet, placating smile. Whether it's to placate //you// or soothe themself, however, you're unsure. "Doesn't really matter, does it?" they ask. "Will you help me or not?" You stand up, putting your hands over the flames to chase away the coldness of the night once more. "What's in it for me?" you ask. <center>[[Continue.|C1_15]]</center>

Your brows furrow a little at the realization, and Vethna averts their gaze from you, wrapping their arms around themself as they move away. You feel painfully aware of the lack of their body heat. "It doesn't matter," Vethna says. "Will you help me or not?" They hestiate before daring to look at you again, their expression hardened in an attempt to mask their nearly imploring stare. "What's in it for me?" you ask. <center>[[Continue.|C1_15]]</center>

"I'm only joking, smart ass," you say, throwing up a dismissive hand at them. "Thought you'd be more quick on your feet... clearly we were both wrong about our perceptions of each other..." Vethna shoots you a dirty look, biting down on their tongue. You watch them struggle to recompose themself before they dare to talk, and even then, their voice comes out more like a hiss than a question. "Are you going to help me or not?" they ask. You let out a long, deliberating hum. tapping your feet together in thought where you sit on the ground. "What's in it for me?" you ask. <center>[[Continue.|C1_15]]</center>

You stand up, hands clasped behind your back politely as you approach them, their eyes watching you warily. You crouch down beside them, far too close for comfort, and they seem unsure of what to do with your sudden proximity. "I'm not without flaws myself, though," you warn, leaning in close enough for them to feel the warmth of your breath on their neck— "I can get a bit... //handsy// at times..." Vethna lets out a choked noise from the back of their throat, one of their hands shooitng out to push you away by your sternum. You let out an //'oof'// at the action, bursting out laughing when you see how flushed their face is. Vethna covers their mouth as they look away, just how a proper noble should when someone says something tasteless. //Not so in control now, are they?// "In all seriousness," you say, "if you're paying me to protect you, that must mean your magic is being... less than cooperative." "Are you going to help me or not?" Vethna hisses, refusing to meet your gaze as they skip over your question. You shrug your shoulders, falling back into the mulch as you look at the fire like you have //all// the time in the world. And, well... you //do.// "What's in it for me?" you ask. <center>[[Continue.|C1_15]]</center>

[WORK IN PROGRESS] Since your exile from Plaithus, you've been forced to scurry along the country's outskirts, disappearing into the faewilds whenever need be. You've been working as a mercenary for the past three years, picking up work where you can. <<if $j_e != "">><<if $j_e eq "dead">>You decided to kill Jamie Erudias, a noble Vygrandian sorcerer.<<elseif $j_e eq v_kill>>After letting Jamie Erudias go free in the woods, the woman you thought you were saving, Lnyla, turned on you. Vethna came to your rescue at the last moment, killing one of Lnyla's lackeys.<<elseif $j_e eq "escape">>When attempting to arrest Jamie Erudias, you found yourself becoming seriously injured, allowing the Vygrandian sorcerer to escape.<<elseif $j_e eq "mercy">>You let Jamie Erudias escape when trying to arrest him.<</if>><</if>> <<if $journal eq "2">> blah blah blah You have taken in a fae woman named Amilia, you and Vethna's duo now turning into an official travelling group. The woman's told you it's maybe goals?? **GOALS:** *Protect Vethna Mevnrael *Reach Davok *Reach

"Can't take it as good as you deal it, huh?" They bite down on their tongue, and after a rather intense stare down avert their gaze from you, wrapping their arms around themself. They peek at you, and when they realize you're still looking their eyes widen as they clear their throat. "Are you going to help me or not?" They ask. "What's in it for me?" <center>[[Continue.|C1_15]]</center>

"Calm yourself," you say. It only makes their expression sour more as they lean away from you, rising to stand as they slowly pace by the fire, their arms crossed over their chest defensively. "Are you going to help me or not?" they ask. "What's in it for me?" <center>[[Continue.|C1_15]]</center>

"You don't have to like me, and I don't have to like you, but that's not what this is about," Vethna says. "I just need... I just //need// protection. And if anyone can offer it, it's you." "Decided to go big or go home, then, I see." Vethna gives you an unimpressed look. "Are you going to help me or not?" You look at them. "What's in it for me?" you ask. <center>[[Continue.|C1_15]]</center>

"And what if I want to like you?" you ask. Vethna's face is unreadable, but then you see it— the smallest furrow of their brows, the lines at the edges of their mouth. You think you can see the smallest hint of a taken aback blush on their cheeks, but if they're truly affected by your words you wouldn't know. "Will you help me or not?" they ask. pointedly ignoring your comment. You look at them before you shrug. "What's in it for me?" <center>[[Continue.|C1_15]]</center>

<<set $money to 1>>"I don't need your money," you say, shaking your head as you hand them back the pouch. They don't take it back immediately, instead looking at you strangely. "What?" They stare at you as if this is the first time in their life their wealth hasn't been able to get them out of a a sticky situation. You wouldn't be surprised if it //is.// You let them squirm in concern for a moment before you continue... "I'll help you without it," you say. They blink owlishly. "//Why?//" You raise a brow at them, almost amused by their naivety. "Money isn't why I help people," you state. Their eyes flicker between yours, the furrow between their brow deepening, but you choose to ignore it, walking away to look out through the dark surrounding forest. It's quiet except for the sounds of the owls and crickets. You can't quite decide if it's calming or unsettling. Vethna's quiet as they come to stand beside you, save for the sound of mulch breaking beneath their feet. "That's... very honorable of you." //Honorable.// The word makes a wry smile form on your face as you huff out an almost bitter-sounding laugh. "I suppose." <center>[[Continue.|C1_18]]</center>

<<set $money to 2>>"No need," you say, pocketing the gold. "This much is fine." Quite frankly, it's more gold that you've seen in the past months combined. It makes strange, fuzzy memories surface in your mind. Memories of grandeur, and— you wince, swallowing thickly as you push the memories back. The good ones are almost worse than the bad ones. You can feel Vethna's gaze burning through you, and you chew on the inside of your cheek as you walk off to look through the dark surrounding forest. It's quiet except for the sounds of the owls and crickets. You can't quite decide if it's calming or unsettling. Vethna's quiet as they come to stand beside you, save for the sound of mulch breaking beneath their feet. "Thank you," they say. "Really. I mean it." It's an oddly genuine display considering what little you've seen of their personality, but you just ignore it. Vygranders aren't exactly known for being sensical. <center>[[Continue.|C1_18]]</center>

<<set $money to 3>>"If you're sure," you mumble. You squeeze the pouch one last time for good measure before pocketing it, not missing the expression of relief on their face. "I am." Quite frankly, it's more gold that you've seen in the past months combined. It makes strange, fuzzy memories surface in your mind. Memories of grandeur, and— you wince, swallowing thickly as you push the memories back. The good ones are almost worse than the bad ones. You can feel Vethna's gaze burning through you, and you chew on the inside of your cheek as you walk off to look through the dark surrounding forest. It's quiet except for the sounds of the owls and crickets. You can't quite decide if it's calming or unsettling. Vethna's quiet as they come to stand beside you, save for the sound of mulch breaking beneath their feet. "Thank you," they say. "Really. I mean it." It's an oddly genuine display considering what little you've seen of their personality, but you just ignore it. Vygranders aren't exactly known for being sensical. <center>[[Continue.|C1_18]]</center>

<<notify 5s>>People Codex Unlocked: Sabir du Vaelas<</notify>><<set $co_pe1 to true>>You clear your throat, turning to face Vethna— to look at the person under your charge. You haven't been a guard for someone since... //Sabir,// You suck in a grounding breath, bitingon your tongue hard enough to draw blood. This, you deem, is a bad night. You can't remember the last time so many memories have threatened to swarm you at once. You have the awful, sinking feeling it's only going to get worse from here. "My services are yours," you state, though you're painfully aware of how distant your voice sounds to your own ears— how your gaze is focused on nothing instead of them when you speak. Vethna stares at you. You think you see them nod. Barely. "Are you... alright?" they ask. Their voice is oddly hesitant. Tense. Like a piece of rope pulled taut. Your eyes snap to meet theirs. "What?" Your voice comes out sharp. Colder than you intended. //Why would anything be wrong with you—?// <<if $j_e eq "escape">>Vethna's eyes flicker between yours, oddly resembling a prey animal before their gaze pointedly drops to the burnt fabric of your shirt, where you were burnt. //Oh.// You roll your shoulder back and squeeze your hand before nodding once. Fine. You feel //fine.// <<elseif $j_e eq "dead">>Vethna's eyes flicker betwen yours, oddly resembling a prey animal before their gaze pointedly drops to your hands, where you rememer Jamie's rotten blood seeping through your pores. //Oh,// You squeeze your hands, rotating them in the dim firelight. Fine. You feel //fine.//<<else>>Vethna's eyes flicker between yours, their red-painted lips parting and closing like a fish out of water before they subtly shake their head as if changing their mind. "Nothing. Nevermind," they murmur, abruptly looking away. A frown curls on your lips. No. A //scowl.// You force yourself to look away, sucking in another low, steadying breath.<</if>> You can't help but think about who you were before this mess. Before the taunting and bitter memories. The //"commander"// had fallen from the world stage a long time ago. Why someone, //anyone//, would seek you out now is beyond you. It makes no sense. //None.// *[[Ask them why they still want you to be their guard.|C1_19.1]] *[[Leave it be.|C19.2]]

"Why do you still want me to be your guard after—" "After you looked like a fool in front of me?" Vethna asks. Seems like they can't be a decent person for more than ten sentences. They shrug, crossing their arms and shifting their weight from one foot to the other. "I don't know," they say. "I guess I was raised on the stories of your greatness." "You can't be that much younger than I am." "I'm not. Doesn't change the fact that you were slaying dragons at the age of sixteen." //Ah.// Looks like that story //hasn't// died out. You almost smile at the memory but... just like everything else, it's gone rotten with time— nothing but sour and bitter and filling you with resentment. They look at you, an interested gleam in their eyes as they stroke their chin idly. "I suppose I just remember what you used to be." //What you used to be.// Why does it still hurt to hear from another's lips? You're shaken out of your thoughts when Vethna snaps their fingers, the fire going out abruptly. "There's no reason for us to spend the entire night out here freezing when the town's only a little whiles away," Vethna states before you can even ask. They don't give you time to respond either, already walking past you to lead the way through the woods. //Someone doesn't like camping,// you think glibly, following after them. They're walking, talking trouble, this Vethna Balvent, and you're not entirely sure you want to imagine what, or who, is pursuing them. What //you're// defending them from. You can't help but curse yourself a little for agreeing to this in the first place. Old habits die hard, it seems. <center>[[Continue.|C1_20]]</center>

You bite down on your tongue to quell your curiosity, cracking your neck as you do so.. "We should head back to town," you say. "It's pure luck we haven't been attacked by something yet." //We.// The word feels foreign on your tongue. An almost coy smile forms on Vethna's lips. "Who says we weren't? Perhaps I threw your lame body to the wolves as I made a run for it and then came back to heal you once they were gone." "... you're real charming, you know that?" Their smile widens before they snap their fingers, the fire going out abruptly, and they're already marching off into the woods by the time you grab your weapons to follow after them. They're walking, talking trouble, this Vethna Balvent, and you're not entirely sure you want to imagine what, or who, is pursuing them. What //you're// defending them from. You can't help but curse yourself a little for agreeing to this in the first place. Old habits die hard, it seems. [[Continue.|C1_20]]

<<notify 5s>>People Codex Unlocked: Vethna Balvent<</notify>><<set $co_pe2 to true>><<set $date_m to "13th of Aepné">><center><h2>Chapter One</h2></center> <center>''Village of Navath - One month later''</center> //Screams.// You're well acquainted with the sound, but never have they been quite as painful as this. Your heart aches in your chest and you don't know why, hands wrapping tighter around your sword in a desperate attempt to find comfort in the familarity of this duty. You were born to kill, groomed for it, and now you carry mow down your enemies with striking percision. Warm, hot, //salty// blood splatters onto your face. Your tongue drags over your teeth to wipe them clean, and you swallow it down with ease. It's a sharp contrast to the coldness that fills your body, the numbness that tingles in your fingers. You do not see the faces of the people you kill. Only blurry figures that come in and out of focus, their faces malformed and uncanny. Their screams threaten to sound like laughter at times, and no matter how many you kill, more keep coming, practically doing the work for you as they spear themselves on your blade. //Stop. Please. ''Stop.''// Someone's pleading for armistice. But who? The voice sounds familiar. Hands grab your wrists, and a new figure takes over your vision. You make out wings and blonde hair as you are overpowered, forced against a wall. She seems familiar. //So familiar.// Her mouth is moving, but all you hear are slowed, distorted words that make no sense. These people were your friends once. Your brothers in arms, your teachers and pupils. And //she// was... she was... <center>[[Continue.|C1_21]]</center>

<<notify 5s>>People Codex Unlocked: Syfyn Javall<</notify>><<set $co_pe3 to true>>Gone. She's gone now. And she's been gone for a long time. And that's all that really matters, isn't it? They were her friends you killed, too. Her //family//, really. And the worst part? They never even stood a chance. Not against you. Your stomach churns with regret, bile crawling up your throat like a spider as your head begins to spin. Each breath becomes more hollow, your body threatening to turn inside out. You think you'd deserve it. To be flipped all wrong and then twisted like a ragdoll. Maybe then you could begin to feel alright. Maybe then you could atone— "Take some coffee, kid." <center>[[Continue.|C1_22]]</center>

<<notify 5s>>Lore Codex Unlocked: Great Abandonment<</notify>><<set $co_l6 to true>>You realize, abruptly, that you're staring out a window, and that there is no battle warring around you. Your eyes are dry, and you blink as you're pulled from the memory, your eyes taking in the landscape. A breath leaves you: a huff from your nose that fogs the glass pane you stand in front of. The sky outside is painted a deep grey that seems to only be growing darker by the second, distant thunder growing louder. Nature had a funny way of making people believe the gods again, though you all knew they weren't going to come back. That didn't stop people from clutching pendants close to their chests, murmuring beneath their breath wary whispers to a pantheon that no longer exists. Praying does nothing to stop death or tragedy, and it didn't even before the <<hovertip "Refers to the event in which the gods, or wykna, of Navara began to fade from the realm due to an increase in atheism.">>Great Abandonment<</hovertip>>. But it /does/ bring comfort, and in that, you can find no fault. Comfort is something you kill to have these days. "The coffee," the store clerk repeats, voice hoarse. You finally turn to look at him. He's balding, and a grey mustache sits over his lip. "I insist. Take some." You highly doubt it's out of the kindness of his heart, no matter how much he //insists// it is. No, it's either burnt or lukewarm from sitting around all day. Still, beggars can't be choosers, and with the storm rolling in it's best to stock up. *[[Besides, coffee is coffee.|C1_23][$coffee to true]] *[[You don't like coffee, but it might get Vethna to shut up.|C1_23]]

You nod at the man, and whether it's in simple acknowledgment or to keep him from repeating himself a third time you're not entirely sure. The coffee is kept in a metal container on a small wooden table pushed against the wall only a few feet away. The clerk watches you the whole four steps it takes to get there. You wish you could say you weren't used to people watching you like you were some kind of circus act or spectacle, but that, quite frankly, would be a lie. You pull out the thermals you carry in your pack before pouring some coffee into them both. To your surprise, it's still hot— smells nice, too. You screw the thermals shut tight before putting them away again and heading back to the clerk who hands you the dried meats you purchased, wrapped neatly in brown paper and tied in string. He smiles at you, teeth twinged yellow. "Try and stay dry out there. Might get home if you run," he jokes. He seems... well, you're not sure what he seems. You think he's trying to be nice. No, you //know// he's trying to be nice, cracking a joke in the hopes you'll perhaps smile. //Not everyone is out to get you//: a reminder you must tell yourself. A reminder even Vethna has had to throw at you when you grow a little too paranoid for their liking. *[[Smile at the man.|C1_24.1]] *[[Nod at him.|C1_24.2]] *[[Ignore him.|C1_24.3][$stoic +=1]]

You smile at the man, and his eyes brighten, clearly content to have lightened your mood somewhat. He waves at you happily as you exit the small store, and any warmth you might've felt seconds ago, emotional or otherwise, is gone the second you step outside. Holy //fucking hells// it's cold. //Just like the memory—// //No,// you chastise. Not cold like in the memory. //Actually// cold. Your teeth clench together as you wrap your cloak tighter around yourself. It's muggy and wet, a not-quite rain, too-heavy-to-be-mist fog seeping through the holes in your clothes. Without warning, there's a flash of light, arcs of lightning crawling across the sky so far that you're half-convinced it will shatter and come hurtling to the ground. Not even a few seconds later there's a blast of thunder so loud you have half the mind to cover your ears, eyes widening. //War. It's loud, so, so loud.// //Not war,// you remind yourself again. This isn't war. There are no artificed Vygrandian bombs blowing in the distance. You're safe here. And if you're not? Well, then it's your job to //male// it safe, by any means necessary. *[[You always try to keep the peace through one means or another, but people seem insistent on violence.|C1_25.1]] *[[You feel indifferent about your duty. Vethna pays you to do what you need to do, and you do it.|C1_25.2]] *[[Perhaps it's bad to admit, but you've never given much thought to your duty. It's easy. Fun, in a way.|C1_25.3]] *[[Still... trouble's not likely. Not when people know how short your patience is.|C1_25.4]]

You just nod at the man, and it seems to be enough for him to see you snap out of your stupor-like state. He waves at you as you head out the door, but you're not able to focus on it for long when a long, cool gust hits you in the face. Holy //fucking hells// it's cold. //Just like the memory—// //No,// you chastise. Not cold like in the memory. //Actually// cold. Your teeth clench together as you wrap your cloak tighter around yourself. It's muggy and wet, a not-quite rain, too-heavy-to-be-mist fog seeping through the holes in your clothes. Without warning, there's a flash of light, arcs of lightning crawling across the sky so far that you're half-convinced it will shatter and come hurtling to the ground. Not even a few seconds later there's a blast of thunder so loud you have half the mind to cover your ears, eyes widening. //War. It's loud, so, so loud.// //Not war,// you remind yourself again. This isn't war. There are no artificed Vygrandian bombs blowing in the distance. You're safe here. And if you're not? Well, then it's your job to //male// it safe, by any means necessary. *[[You always try to keep the peace through one means or another, but people seem insistent on violence.|C1_25.1]] *[[You feel indifferent about your duty. Vethna pays you to do what you need to do, and you do it.|C1_25.2]] *[[Perhaps it's bad to admit, but you've never given much thought to your duty. It's easy. Fun, in a way.|C1_25.3]] *[[Still... trouble's not likely. Not when people know how short your patience is.|C1_25.4]]

You ignore the man, walking right past him to the door to leave and— Holy //fucking hells// it's cold. //Just like the memory—// //No,// you chastise. Not cold like in the memory. //Actually// cold. Your teeth clench together as you wrap your cloak tighter around yourself. It's muggy and wet, a not-quite rain, too-heavy-to-be-mist fog seeping through the holes in your clothes. Without warning, there's a flash of light, arcs of lightning crawling across the sky so far that you're half-convinced it will shatter and come hurtling to the ground. Not even a few seconds later there's a blast of thunder so loud you have half the mind to cover your ears, eyes widening. //War. It's loud, so, so loud.// //Not war,// you remind yourself again. This isn't war. There are no artificed Vygrandian bombs blowing in the distance. You're safe here. And if you're not? Well, then it's your job to //male// it safe, by any means necessary. *[[You always try to keep the peace through one means or another, but people seem insistent on violence.|C1_25.1]] *[[You feel indifferent about your duty. Vethna pays you to do what you need to do, and you do it.|C1_25.2]] *[[Perhaps it's bad to admit, but you've never given much thought to your duty. It's easy. Fun, in a way.|C1_25.3]] *[[Still... trouble's not likely. Not when people know how short your patience is.|C1_25.4]]

<<set $genuine += 2>>You try warning them time and time again that getting into a fight with you isn't a good idea. You try to tell them to back away, to leave, while they still have the chance. The number of people who've listened to your warnings so far? //Zero//. It infuriates you as much as it saddens you. Out of habit, your eyes flicker to your glove-covered hands. You wonder if there's still blood beneath your fingernails. Gravel crackles beneath your boot-clad feet, the grass surrounding the path a bright and vibrant green. The air smells sweet, but it's filled with static, and you find yourself walking faster than usual as you head back into the small town you and Vethna have found yourselves stuck in for the time being. From what you've gathered, the town's ruled by a rather... //unimpressive// viscount, and aren't all that used to nobility based on how they gawked at Vethna the whole time upon arrival. They soaked up the attention despite the fact they're //very much// supposed to be lying low. And the way the townspeople stared at //you//? It was, and still is, with fear and curiosity, people leaning closer to get a look of the face hidden beneath your hood only to pull away quickly when they could feel the monstrous energy that radiates from you like warmth does a flame. It makes you feel... *[[Prideful.|C1_26.1][$opinion_p to 1]] *[[Broken.|C1_26.2][$opinion_p to 2]] *[[Indifferent.|C1_26.3][$opinion_p to 3]] *[[Angry.|C1_26.4][$opinion_p to 4]]

<<set $stoic += 2>>You give them the warning. You tell them to step away and keep out of any trouble that would involve you or your charge. They never listen. They never make it out of the establishment they walked into in the first place, either. Idly, you curl your hands into tight fists before loosening them again at your sides, still holding onto your package of food, although Vethna would claim it's an insult to food to call it that. Gravel crackles beneath your boot-clad feet, the grass surrounding the path a bright and vibrant green. The air smells sweet, but it's filled with static, and you find yourself walking faster than usual as you head back into the small town you and Vethna have found yourselves stuck in for the time being. From what you've gathered, the town's ruled by a rather... //unimpressive// viscount, and aren't all that used to nobility based on how they gawked at Vethna the whole time upon arrival. They soaked up the attention despite the fact they're //very much// supposed to be lying low. And the way the townspeople stared at //you//? It was, and still is, with fear and curiosity, people leaning closer to get a look of the face hidden beneath your hood only to pull away quickly when they could feel the monstrous energy that radiates from you like warmth does a flame. It makes you feel... *[[Prideful.|C1_26.1]] *[[Broken.|C1_26.2]] *[[Indifferent.|C1_26.3]] *[[Angry.|C1_26.4]]

<<set $aggression += 2>>You know when a fight's gonna break out. Some people just give out a certain aura that screams trouble, and it's then that your hand grips your sword all the tighter at your side. It always goes the same way, some fools barging in and heading toward you and your charge. Vethna just stares at them as you burn holes into the table with your glare, body becoming increasingly more tense. The cue for the battle to begin is once Vethna lets out some smart-ass comment, and it's then that you stand, drawing your sword to paint the walls red. You huff to yourself, and whether it's in bitter amusement or annoyance you can't tell, fingers brushing against the hilt of your sword. Gravel crackles beneath your boot-clad feet, the grass surrounding the path a bright and vibrant green. The air smells sweet, but it's filled with static, and you find yourself walking faster than usual as you head back into the small town you and Vethna have found yourselves stuck in for the time being. From what you've gathered, the town's ruled by a rather... //unimpressive// viscount, and aren't all that used to nobility based on how they gawked at Vethna the whole time upon arrival. They soaked up the attention despite the fact they're //very much// supposed to be lying low. And the way the townspeople stared at //you//? It was, and still is, with fear and curiosity, people leaning closer to get a look of the face hidden beneath your hood only to pull away quickly when they could feel the monstrous energy that radiates from you like warmth does a flame. It makes you feel... *[[Prideful.|C1_26.1]] *[[Broken.|C1_26.2]] *[[Indifferent.|C1_26.3]] *[[Angry.|C1_26.4]]

<<set $sarcasm += 2>>It probably isn't the most //professional// of opinions, but you've never given that much thought to your duty as a merc. Everything seems so predictable, so simple, that you know it like a song and dance. And, if anything, you feel a bit of amusement everytime you guess right on what'll happen next. You lay the scene out in your head: you and Vethna sitting at a table, enter: asshole, Vethna gets drawn into one argument or another, gives you a pointed look to act their scary guard dog, and then you end up decking some poor bastard in the face. You can think of six incidents that fit the bill perfectly just off the top of your head, an amused, lopsided grin forming on your face as you rub your gloved-hands together. Maybe tonight will be dramatic, too. You could use the entertainment. Gravel crackles beneath your boot-clad feet, the grass surrounding the path a bright and vibrant green. The air smells sweet, but it's filled with static, and you find yourself walking faster than usual as you head back into the small town you and Vethna have found yourselves stuck in for the time being. From what you've gathered, the town's ruled by a rather... //unimpressive// viscount, and aren't all that used to nobility based on how they gawked at Vethna the whole time upon arrival. They soaked up the attention despite the fact they're //very much// supposed to be lying low. And the way the townspeople stared at //you//? It was, and still is, with fear and curiosity, people leaning closer to get a look of the face hidden beneath your hood only to pull away quickly when they could feel the monstrous energy that radiates from you like warmth does a flame. It makes you feel... *[[Prideful.|C1_26.1]] *[[Broken.|C1_26.2]] *[[Indifferent.|C1_26.3]] *[[Angry.|C1_26.4]]

<<set $opinion_p to 1>>If people fear you, it means you're doing your job well. It means they respect you. It means you're //powerful.// Vethna likes it, too, but you think that's mostly for the fact that it lessens the chance of someone trying to murder them and, the less threats on their life, the more lax you tend to be. Which, in their mind, means exploring and buying needless items, and, if they're //really// lucky, going out on their own. <center>[[Enter town.|C1_27]]</center>

<<set $opinion_p to 2>>You used to be someone important. Someone who only striked fear into enemies while reassuring the public. Now? Now it seems like you scare just about everyone except who needs to be. Vethna's tried to "cheer you up" occasionally. It doesn't work all that well when you know they're more than happy about your situation. You know it's only because if people are scared of you there's less of a chance of their life being on the line, which usually results in //you// being more lax when it comes to guarding them. It's rare and far between, but occasionally it can even mean letting Vethna go out on their own, which you know they enjoy since they won't come back until you're marching through the streets, steam practically bellowing from your nostrils as you're dragging them back home. <center>[[Enter town.|C1_27]]</center>

<<set $opinion_p to 4>>It's a cruel reminder of how far you've fallen. Their frightened behavior is almost taunting you, their very eyes having once looked at you in wonder and respect and in pure and utter //adoration//. You were their protector once, not even that long ago, and now you're //nothing.// Well...nothing more than a shell of what you used to be, anyway. Vethna loves it, though. You know it's only because if people are scared of you there's less of a chance of their life being on the line, which usually results in//you// being more lax when it comes to guarding them, but that doesn't stop the frustration that courses through your veins every time you see their self-satisfied smirk. You had to hand it to them, though. They can meet your glare that has people cowering and laugh like you're nothing more than a pouting toddler. Not many can do that. <center>[[Enter town.|C1_27]]</center>

<<set $opinion_p to 3>>You do your job and that's all that really matters. What people think of you is unimportant. Vethna, on the other hand, //loves// it, though you know it's only because the more people that fear you, the less likely it is someone will try to murder them [i]and[/i], the less threats on their life, the more lax you tend to be. Which, in their mind, means exploring and buying needless items, and, if they're //really// lucky, going out on their own. But only if they're really, //really// lucky and you are very, //very// tired. <center>[[Enter town.|C1_27]]</center>

You make it past the iron gates just as the rain begins to fall, dark splatters on the cobbled ground causing you to glance up at the sky as a large, freezing droplet falls right onto your face. Lightning strikes again, this time so close to the town walls that your vision temporarily goes white, the ground beneath you rumbling. //This is not good.// Maybe the townsfolk have reason to be praying. No one's outside, the windows of the buildings you pass having their sheer curtains closed and emitting a warm orange glow that are the sure signs of fireplaces being kept alight. You pull your cloak tight as the rain begins to fall heavier and heavier, until the sound of it pattering on the ground is loud enough to drown out your own thoughts, clothes becoming soaked as they stick to your skin. You attempt to keep the meats dry beneath your arm, but you know it's a fruitless task. Gods, you can already hear Vethna's whining. <center>[[Enter the inn.|C1_28]]</center>

Well, you //would//, anyway, if it wasn't locked. "By the hells," you hiss. You pound on the door so harshly it rattles on its hinges. You can hear gasps come from inside. "Who is it?" A shrill voice yells. The innkeeper. You're barely able to recall her face, but her voice you know [i]far[/i] too well for your liking, mostly because of how she's always screaming at people well into the night. "$name_l," you yell out, glancing about the empty streets. "Who?" ... You've got to be fucking kidding. Today is just //not// your day, is it? "I've got a double room." you yell. When there's no response- "Sharing it with Balvent. The noble." There's silence on the other side before a long, sharp, "ah," comes from the woman. "You're the half-//mythosi//," the woman states, her voice dripping with contempt as if you're somehow the one responsible for this awful weather. This isn't an unusual occurrence, the townsfolk turning you away when they believe bad omens are to come. Some claim //mythosi// bring bad luck in Plaithus. That your connection to magic, innate and natural as it is, is evil. You suck in a steadying, sharp breath before you speak. ".. Yes." Before the woman can argue (and yes, you //can// hear her take in a deep breath to yell at you), there's an array of shouts and screams before the door is clicking open to reveal none other than Vethna Balvent, a charming (overconfident) smile on their face. Since you've traveled together it's been a non-stop nightmare of them expecting for you to cater to their every whim as they wreak havoc wherever they go. The worst part? //They always get away with it.// If only you had known what you were getting yourself into a month ago. "You know they have baths here, right?" they ask, twirling a strand of hair around their finger. *[[Don't respond and push past them.|C1_29.1]] *[[Give them a dirty look.|C1_29.2]] *[[Okay, you'll admit it. That was funny.|C1_29.3]] *[[Nod at them in acknowledgement.|C1_29.4]] *[["Thanks. For opening the door."|C1_29.5]] *[['"Ah, but that\'s a far cry from a refreshing shower."'|C1_29.6]]

<<set $stoic += 2>>You let out a low scoffing noise, and they're quick to move out of your way before you even get the chance to move them aside, contorting their body in the narrow entrance to keep your soaked clothes from touching them before they kick the door shut behind them and lock it. The townsfolk are all huddled together, and, just like you predicted, praying and holding their pendants. Their eyes are all glued to you as you enter, dripping water and clutching a sopping wet package. <<nobr>><<cycle "$height" autoselect>> <<option "You feel far too large for the room, head threatening to brush the low ceiling. (height > 6'2)">> <<option "You know you're an imposing figure, but this is overkill with how they're staring at you. (height 5'9-6'2)">> <<option "You shift slightly, adjusting your grip on the dry meats, if they can even be called that at this point. (height 5'5-5'8)">> <<option "You almost feel short with how everyone is staring at you so openly, surrounded in a circle of gawking commoners. (height < 5'5)">></span> <</cycle>> <<if $height is "You feel far too large for the room, head threatening to brush the low ceiling. (> 6'2)">><<set $height to "very tall">><</if>> <<if $height is "You know you're an imposing figure, but this is overkill with how they're staring at you. (5'9-6'2)">><<set $height to "tall">> <</if>> <<if $height is "You shift slightly, adjusting your grip on the dry meats, if they can even be called that at this point. (5'5-5'8)">> <<set $height to "average height">> <</if>> <<if $height is "You almost feel short with how everyone is staring at you so openly, surrounded in a circle of gawking commoners. (< 5'5)">> <<set $height to "short">> <</if>><</nobr>> If looks could kill, the innkeeper would've set you on fire while beating you with a rusty pipe by now. Of course you'd be the one to get in trouble for entering the inn and not Vethna for opening the door in the first place. "You better not go causing trouble," she huffs, wobbling toward you and pointing a finger at your face. *[[Sneer at her, annoyance flooding through you.|C1_30.1]] *[[Grin. You? Causing trouble? Perish the thought.|C1_30.2]] *[[Stare at her finger. You really don't have the energy to be dealing with this right now.|C1_30.3]]

<<set $aggression += 2>>The corner of their red lips quirk upwards in response before they move to let you in fully, seemingly taking it easy on you after seeing you in such a disheveled state. They close the door behind them, locking it once more. The townsfolk are all huddled together, and, just like you predicted, praying and holding their pendants. Their eyes are all glued to you as you enter, dripping water and clutching a sopping wet package. <<nobr>><<cycle "$height" autoselect>> <<option "You feel far too large for the room, head threatening to brush the low ceiling. (height > 6'2)">> <<option "You know you're an imposing figure, but this is overkill with how they're staring at you. (height 5'9-6'2)">> <<option "You shift slightly, adjusting your grip on the dry meats, if they can even be called that at this point. (height 5'5-5'8)">> <<option "You almost feel short with how everyone is staring at you so openly, surrounded in a circle of gawking commoners. (height < 5'5)">></span> <</cycle>> <<if $height is "You feel far too large for the room, head threatening to brush the low ceiling. (> 6'2)">><<set $height to "very tall">><</if>> <<if $height is "You know you're an imposing figure, but this is overkill with how they're staring at you. (5'9-6'2)">><<set $height to "tall">> <</if>> <<if $height is "You shift slightly, adjusting your grip on the dry meats, if they can even be called that at this point. (5'5-5'8)">> <<set $height to "average height">> <</if>> <<if $height is "You almost feel short with how everyone is staring at you so openly, surrounded in a circle of gawking commoners. (< 5'5)">> <<set $height to "short">> <</if>><</nobr>> If looks could kill, the innkeeper would've set you on fire while beating you with a rusty pipe by now. Of course you'd be the one to get in trouble for entering the inn and not Vethna for opening the door in the first place. "You better not go causing trouble," she huffs, wobbling toward you and pointing a finger at your face. *[[Sneer at her, annoyance flooding through you.|C1_30.1]] *[[Grin. You? Causing trouble? Perish the thought.|C1_30.2]] *[[Stare at her finger. You really don't have the energy to be dealing with this right now.|C1_30.3]]

<<set $vethna += 1>><<set $sarcasm += 2>>A huff of a laugh leaves you, easy to mistake with a scoff, but Vethna seems to catch onto it anyway, eyes widening slightly at your reaction. "You're in a good mood," they speak slowly, clearly suspicious as they raise a brow to scrutinize you a second time as you enter the inn. They close the door behind them, locking it once more. The townsfolk are all huddled together, and, just like you predicted, praying and holding their pendants. Their eyes are all glued to you as you enter, dripping water and clutching a sopping wet package. <<nobr>><<cycle "$height" autoselect>> <<option "You feel far too large for the room, head threatening to brush the low ceiling. (height > 6'2)">> <<option "You know you're an imposing figure, but this is overkill with how they're staring at you. (height 5'9-6'2)">> <<option "You shift slightly, adjusting your grip on the dry meats, if they can even be called that at this point. (height 5'5-5'8)">> <<option "You almost feel short with how everyone is staring at you so openly, surrounded in a circle of gawking commoners. (height < 5'5)">></span> <</cycle>> <<if $height is "You feel far too large for the room, head threatening to brush the low ceiling. (> 6'2)">><<set $height to "very tall">><</if>> <<if $height is "You know you're an imposing figure, but this is overkill with how they're staring at you. (5'9-6'2)">><<set $height to "tall">> <</if>> <<if $height is "You shift slightly, adjusting your grip on the dry meats, if they can even be called that at this point. (5'5-5'8)">> <<set $height to "average height">> <</if>> <<if $height is "You almost feel short with how everyone is staring at you so openly, surrounded in a circle of gawking commoners. (< 5'5)">> <<set $height to "short">> <</if>><</nobr>> If looks could kill, the innkeeper would've set you on fire while beating you with a rusty pipe by now. Of course you'd be the one to get in trouble for entering the inn and not Vethna for opening the door in the first place. "You better not go causing trouble," she huffs, wobbling toward you and pointing a finger at your face. *[[Sneer at her, annoyance flooding through you.|C1_30.1]] *[[Grin. You? Causing trouble? Perish the thought.|C1_30.2]] *[[Stare at her finger. You really don't have the energy to be dealing with this right now.|C1_30.3]]

<<set $genuine += 2>>Vethna scans you up and down before they step aside to let you in, closing the door gently behind them and locking it once more. The townsfolk are all huddled together, and, just like you predicted, praying and holding their pendants. Their eyes are all glued to you as you enter, dripping water and clutching a sopping wet package. <<nobr>><<cycle "$height" autoselect>> <<option "You feel far too large for the room, head threatening to brush the low ceiling. (height > 6'2)">> <<option "You know you're an imposing figure, but this is overkill with how they're staring at you. (height 5'9-6'2)">> <<option "You shift slightly, adjusting your grip on the dry meats, if they can even be called that at this point. (height 5'5-5'8)">> <<option "You almost feel short with how everyone is staring at you so openly, surrounded in a circle of gawking commoners. (height < 5'5)">></span> <</cycle>> <<if $height is "You feel far too large for the room, head threatening to brush the low ceiling. (> 6'2)">><<set $height to "very tall">><</if>> <<if $height is "You know you're an imposing figure, but this is overkill with how they're staring at you. (5'9-6'2)">><<set $height to "tall">> <</if>> <<if $height is "You shift slightly, adjusting your grip on the dry meats, if they can even be called that at this point. (5'5-5'8)">> <<set $height to "average height">> <</if>> <<if $height is "You almost feel short with how everyone is staring at you so openly, surrounded in a circle of gawking commoners. (< 5'5)">> <<set $height to "short">> <</if>><</nobr>> If looks could kill, the innkeeper would've set you on fire while beating you with a rusty pipe by now. Of course you'd be the one to get in trouble for entering the inn and not Vethna for opening the door in the first place. "You better not go causing trouble," she huffs, wobbling toward you and pointing a finger at your face. *[[Sneer at her, annoyance flooding through you.|C1_30.1]] *[[Grin. You? Causing trouble? Perish the thought.|C1_30.2]] *[[Stare at her finger. You really don't have the energy to be dealing with this right now.|C1_30.3]]

<<set $vethna += 1>><<set $genuine += 2>>"Thanks. For opening the door." Vethna seems taken aback for a moment, mouth hanging open in what was no doubt meant to be a witty comeback. "Oh, uhm, yes. Of course." They look over you a second time before they let you in, closing the door gently behind them and locking it once more. The townsfolk are all huddled together, and, just like you predicted, praying and holding their pendants. Their eyes are all glued to you as you enter, dripping water and clutching a sopping wet package. <<nobr>><<cycle "$height" autoselect>> <<option "You feel far too large for the room, head threatening to brush the low ceiling. (height > 6'2)">> <<option "You know you're an imposing figure, but this is overkill with how they're staring at you. (height 5'9-6'2)">> <<option "You shift slightly, adjusting your grip on the dry meats, if they can even be called that at this point. (height 5'5-5'8)">> <<option "You almost feel short with how everyone is staring at you so openly, surrounded in a circle of gawking commoners. (height < 5'5)">></span> <</cycle>> <<if $height is "You feel far too large for the room, head threatening to brush the low ceiling. (> 6'2)">><<set $height to "very tall">><</if>> <<if $height is "You know you're an imposing figure, but this is overkill with how they're staring at you. (5'9-6'2)">><<set $height to "tall">> <</if>> <<if $height is "You shift slightly, adjusting your grip on the dry meats, if they can even be called that at this point. (5'5-5'8)">> <<set $height to "average height">> <</if>> <<if $height is "You almost feel short with how everyone is staring at you so openly, surrounded in a circle of gawking commoners. (< 5'5)">> <<set $height to "short">> <</if>><</nobr>> If looks could kill, the innkeeper would've set you on fire while beating you with a rusty pipe by now. Of course you'd be the one to get in trouble for entering the inn and not Vethna for opening the door in the first place. "You better not go causing trouble," she huffs, wobbling toward you and pointing a finger at your face. *[[Sneer at her, annoyance flooding through you.|C1_30.1]] *[[Grin. You? Causing trouble? Perish the thought.|C1_30.2]] *[[Stare at her finger. You really don't have the energy to be dealing with this right now.|C1_30.3]]

<<set $vethna ++>><<set $sarcasm += 2>>"Ah, but that's a far cry from a refreshing shower," you say spreading your arms for emphasis. "Funny that you still smell like shit then," they reply, their smile widening sweetly before stepping aside to let you in. You give them a glare that only seems to make their smile wider before they kick the door shut behind them, locking it again. The townsfolk are all huddled together, and, just like you predicted, praying and holding their pendants. Their eyes are all glued to you as you enter, dripping water and clutching a sopping wet package. <<nobr>><<cycle "$height" autoselect>> <<option "You feel far too large for the room, head threatening to brush the low ceiling. (height > 6'2)">> <<option "You know you're an imposing figure, but this is overkill with how they're staring at you. (height 5'9-6'2)">> <<option "You shift slightly, adjusting your grip on the dry meats, if they can even be called that at this point. (height 5'5-5'8)">> <<option "You almost feel short with how everyone is staring at you so openly, surrounded in a circle of gawking commoners. (height < 5'5)">></span> <</cycle>> <<if $height is "You feel far too large for the room, head threatening to brush the low ceiling. (> 6'2)">><<set $height to "very tall">><</if>> <<if $height is "You know you're an imposing figure, but this is overkill with how they're staring at you. (5'9-6'2)">><<set $height to "tall">> <</if>> <<if $height is "You shift slightly, adjusting your grip on the dry meats, if they can even be called that at this point. (5'5-5'8)">> <<set $height to "average height">> <</if>> <<if $height is "You almost feel short with how everyone is staring at you so openly, surrounded in a circle of gawking commoners. (< 5'5)">> <<set $height to "short">> <</if>><</nobr>> If looks could kill, the innkeeper would've set you on fire while beating you with a rusty pipe by now. Of course you'd be the one to get in trouble for entering the inn and not Vethna for opening the door in the first place. "You better not go causing trouble," she huffs, wobbling toward you and pointing a finger at your face. *[[Sneer at her, annoyance flooding through you.|C1_30.1]] *[[Grin. You? Causing trouble? Perish the thought.|C1_30.2]] *[[Stare at her finger. You really don't have the energy to be dealing with this right now.|C1_30.3]]

<<set $aggression += 2>>Your lips curl back in a snarl, but before you can so much as tell her to kiss your ass Vethna is stepping between you both, pressing a placating hand against your shoulder that you're quick to shrug off. "We won't cause any problems. I swear it." They smile, and it's the charming smile they only ever wear when it's to get others to bend to their will through charm alone. "Pinky promise, they're the most harmless //mythsoi// I've ever met." You snort to yourself at the irony of the statement as you remove your soaking gloves to stash them in your pocket, earning you a passing glare from the innkeeper. There's a moment of silence where you think she might just slap Vethna before she begrudgingly takes a step back. "Fine. But if something goes wrong I know who to point my finger at." Vethna doesn't give time to respond before they're grabbing your hand and yanking you up the stairs, hand soft and warm compared to your own. They're being oddly touchy today. *[[Rip your hand from theirs.|C1_31.1]] *[[Pull your hand from theirs.|C1_31.2]] *[[Allow them to hold it. They might be nervous.|C1_31.3]] *[["What moisturizer do you use?"|C1_31.4]] *[[Your hand feels tingly within their own. Is that... are you nervous? ♥|C1_31.5][$vethna_r +=1]] *[[Allow them to hold it...you don't know why. ♥|C1_31.6][$vethna_r +=1]] *[["If you wanted to hold my hand you could've asked." ♥|C1_31.7][$vethna_r +=1]]

<<set $sarcasm += 2>>"Me? Causing trouble? Never, not in a million years," you drawl, lips curl upwards into a knowing smile. Vethna watches wearily as the woman's eyes narrow before they step between the two of you, quickly putting an end to the hostile tension. "We won't cause any problems. I swear it." They smile, and it's the charming smile they only ever wear when it's to get others to bend to their will through charm alone. "Pinky promise, they're the most harmless //mythosi//] I've ever met." You snort to yourself at the irony of the statement as you remove your soaking gloves to stash them in your pocket, earning you a passing glare from the innkeeper. There's a moment of silence where you think she might just slap Vethna before she begrudgingly takes a step back. "Fine. But if something goes wrong I know who to point my finger at." Vethna doesn't give time to respond before they're grabbing your hand and yanking you up the stairs, hand soft and warm compared to your own. They're being oddly touchy today. *[[Rip your hand from theirs.|C1_31.1]] *[[Pull your hand from theirs.|C1_31.2]] *[[Allow them to hold it. They might be nervous.|C1_31.3]] *[["What moisturizer do you use?"|C1_31.4]] *[[Your hand feels tingly within their own. Is that... are you nervous? ♥|C1_31.5][$vethna_r +=1]] *[[Allow them to hold it...you don't know why. ♥|C1_31.6][$vethna_r +=1]] *[["If you wanted to hold my hand you could've asked." ♥|C1_31.7][$vethna_r +=1]]

<<set $genuine += 2>><<set $stoic += 2>>Vethna's hand rests on your shoulder, pushing you back from the woman's accusing finger. You don't resist them, instead twisting your cloak to drain it of some water as they step between you and the woman. "We won't cause any problems. I swear it." They smile, and it's the charming smile they only ever wear when it's to get others to bend to their will through charm alone. "Pinky promise, they're the most harmless //mythosi// I've ever met." You snort to yourself at the irony of the statement as you remove your soaking gloves to stash them in your pocket, earning you a passing glare from the innkeeper. There's a moment of silence where you think she might just slap Vethna before she begrudgingly takes a step back. "Fine. But if something goes wrong I know who to point my finger at." Vethna doesn't give time to respond before they're grabbing your hand and yanking you up the stairs, hand soft and warm compared to your own. They're being oddly touchy today. *[[Rip your hand from theirs.|C1_31.1]] *[[Pull your hand from theirs.|C1_31.2]] *[[Allow them to hold it. They might be nervous.|C1_31.3]] *[["What moisturizer do you use?"|C1_31.4]] *[[Your hand feels tingly within their own. Is that... are you nervous? ♥|C1_31.5][$vethna_r +=1]] *[[Allow them to hold it...you don't know why. ♥|C1_31.6][$vethna_r +=1]] *[['"If you wanted to hold my hand you could've asked."' ♥|C1_31.7][$vethna_r +=1]]

The fabric of your sleeve gets caught on some of their rings from the abrupt action, causing Vethna's own hand to be yanked back in the process before you're set free. They send you a dirty look from over their shoulder before you both reach the top of the stairs and head down the hall. "You're on edge," you state. They glance at you from over their shoulder, their hands playing with their rings. For a split second, they look all too similar to how they looked the day you met in the rain, but then they're looking away from you again, head held high and shoulders back. "I'm just tired." They open the door to your shared room, holding it open for you before they close it and lock it manually this time, pulling on the handle a few times. *[[Watch them. You've already cleared out the room twice today.|C1_32.1]] *[[Check the rest of the room. It never hurts to look a third time.|C1_32.2]] *[[Move them aside to block the door.|C1_32.3]]

Your hand slips easily from theirs, though they fiddle with their own hands the rest of the way up the stairs. "You're on edge," you state. They glance at you from over their shoulder, their hands playing with their rings. For a split second, they look all too similar to how they looked the day you met in the rain, but then they're looking away from you again, head held high and shoulders back. "I'm just tired." They open the door to your shared room, holding it open for you before they close it and lock it manually this time, pulling on the handle a few times. *[[Watch them. You've already cleared out the room twice today.|C1_32.1]] *[[Check the rest of the room. It never hurts to look a third time.|C1_32.2]] *[[Move them aside to block the door.|C1_32.3]]

Vethna lets go of your hand once you reach the top of the stairs and head down the hall. "You're on edge," you state. They glance at you from over their shoulder, their hands playing with their rings. For a split second, they look all too similar to how they looked the day you met in the rain, but then they're looking away from you again, head held high and shoulders back. "I'm just tired." They open the door to your shared room, holding it open for you before they close it and lock it manually this time, pulling on the handle a few times. *[[Watch them. You've already cleared out the room twice today.|C1_32.1]] *[[Check the rest of the room. It never hurts to look a third time.|C1_32.2]] *[[Move them aside to block the door.|C1_32.3]]

No, it's... it's //Vethna//. Still, your stomach is churning and your chest feels surprisingly light. It must be your nerves. Yes, your nerves for... //for//... Vethna drops your hand once you're in the hall. The second they're not holding it, however, they go to clasp their own together. "You're on edge," you state. They glance at you from over their shoulder, their hands playing with their rings. For a split second, they look all too similar to how they looked the day you met in the rain, but then they're looking away from you again, head held high and shoulders back. "I'm just tired." They open the door to your shared room, holding it open for you before they close it and lock it manually this time, pulling on the handle a few times. *[[Watch them. You've already cleared out the room twice today.|C1_32.1]] *[[Check the rest of the room. It never hurts to look a third time.|C1_32.2]] *[[Move them aside to block the door.|C1_32.3]]

Your hand is still wet which leads to a rather... unpleasant... sensation. Nonetheless, Vethna doesn't let go, and you don't either, not until you reach the second floor and head down the hall together. "You're on edge," you state. They glance at you from over their shoulder, their hands playing with their rings. For a split second, they look all too similar to how they looked the day you met in the rain, but then they're looking away from you again, head held high and shoulders back. "I'm just tired." They open the door to your shared room, holding it open for you before they close it and lock it manually this time, pulling on the handle a few times. *[[Watch them. You've already cleared out the room twice today.|C1_32.1]] *[[Check the rest of the room. It never hurts to look a third time.|C1_32.2]] *[[Move them aside to block the door.|C1_32.3]]

A scoff mixed with a laugh leaves them at that as they look over at you, brows furrowed. "I think a better question is what [i]you[/i] use," Vethna says. "Sandpaper?" "Too soft," you say, shaking your head as Vethna rolls their eyes, letting go of your hand once you reach the top of the stairs and head down the hall. "You're on edge," you state. They glance at you from over their shoulder, their hands playing with their rings. For a split second, they look all too similar to how they looked the day you met in the rain, but then they're looking away from you again, head held high and shoulders back. "I'm just tired." They open the door to your shared room, holding it open for you before they close it and lock it manually this time, pulling on the handle a few times. *[[Watch them. You've already cleared out the room twice today.|C1_32.1]] *[[Check the rest of the room. It never hurts to look a third time.|C1_32.2]] *[[Move them aside to block the door.|C1_32.3]]

"If you wanted to hold my hand you could've asked," you say, shooting Vethna a shit-eating grin. Vethna stops halfway up the stairs, turning to look at you. You nearly laugh at their expression, brows furrowed, cheeks flushed and lips half-parted. "That's not why I—that's not—" They drop your hand, never succeeding in finishing their sentence before they storm up the stairs, muttering to themself under their breath. You shake your head in amusement before following after them. "You're on edge," you state. They glance at you from over their shoulder, their hands playing with their rings. For a split second, they look all too similar to how they looked the day you met in the rain, but then they're looking away from you again, head held high and shoulders back. "I'm just tired." They open the door to your shared room, holding it open for you before they close it and lock it manually this time, pulling on the handle a few times. *[[Watch them. You've already cleared out the room twice today.|C1_32.1]] *[[Check the rest of the room. It never hurts to look a third time.|C1_32.2]] *[[Move them aside to block the door.|C1_32.3]]

You set the bag of meat down onto the table and take a seat, eyes flickering to the fire before glancing back at Vethna. Their shoulders are taut, and they might as well be strangling someone with how aggressively they shake the door. "I think it's locked," you state. They freeze, not turning to look at you fully, before they stand up to their full height and brush their hands off. "Right. Yes." You watch as they stand there, unmoving, and a quiet huff escapes you as you shake your head. "Sit," you say, nodding at the seat next to you. Vethna doesn't move an inch. Instead, they opt to raise a brow at you as if you had just called their mother a harlot. "I'm the one who's supposed to tell //you// what to do." they state, a sort of forced condescension dripping from their words. Now it's //your// turn to raise a brow at them. *[['"Balvent? Do me a favor and fuck off."'|C1_33.1]] *[["Alright. Offer rescinded," you mutter.|C1_33.2]] *[["Only sometimes," you retort, grinning.|C1_33.3]] *[["I guess you could go for a solid squat instead..." you suggest, mockingly.|C1_33.4]] *[[Shake your head and ignore them.|C1_33.5]] *[["It was just a suggestion," you say awkwardly.|C1_33.6]] *[[Put your hands up in mock surrender.|C1_33.7]]

<<set $vethna += 1>>You set the bag of meat down onto the table only to head to the opposite end of the room, checking behind curtains and under rugs for anything out of the ordinary. Vethna stops fiddling with the door to instead watch you, arms wrapping around themself. When you finally rise off the ground after looking under the beds they bite their lip, anxiously watching as you sit down. "All good?" They ask. You only nod. Of course it was all good. You //knew// it was all good. You would've been able to tell if someone was hidden in her in an instant, But clearly your show of security made Vethna feel better. Slowly, you take a seat, sighing softly as you finally take the weight off your feet. "Sit," you say, nodding at the seat next to you. Vethna doesn't move an inch. Instead, they opt to raise a brow at you as if you had just called their mother a harlot. "I'm the one who's supposed to tell //you// what to do." they state, a sort of forced condescension dripping from their words. Now it's //your// turn to raise a brow at them. *[['"Balvent? Do me a favor and fuck off."'|C1_33.1]] *[["Alright. Offer rescinded," you mutter.|C1_33.2]] *[["Only sometimes," you retort, grinning.|C1_33.3]] *[["I guess you could go for a solid squat instead..." you suggest, mockingly.|C1_33.4]] *[[Shake your head and ignore them.|C1_33.5]] *[["It was just a suggestion," you say awkwardly.|C1_33.6]] *[[Put your hands up in mock surrender.|C1_33.7]]

<<set $ward to true>><<set $vethna += 1>>They hear your heavy footsteps behind them, glancing over their shoulders only to move to the side for you, arms wrapping around themself as they watch you. You lock the door before dragging a chair over to barricade the doorknob. It's not much, but you can tell the extra-added layer of security, flimsy as it is, brings Vethna some ease as their shoulders slouch. They suck in a deep, shaky breath, their eyes briefly meeting yours before they look away, barely nodding in thanks. You move to sit down then, sighing softly as you finally take the weight off your feet.\ "Sit," you say, nodding at the seat next to you. Vethna doesn't move an inch. Instead, they opt to raise a brow at you as if you had just called their mother a harlot. "I'm the one who's supposed to tell //you// what to do." they state, a sort of forced condescension dripping from their words. Now it's //your// turn to raise a brow at them. *[['"Balvent? Do me a favor and fuck off."'|C1_33.1]] *[["Alright. Offer rescinded," you mutter.|C1_33.2]] *[["Only sometimes," you retort, grinning.|C1_33.3]] *[["I guess you could go for a solid squat instead..." you suggest, mockingly.|C1_33.4]] *[[Shake your head and ignore them.|C1_33.5]] *[["It was just a suggestion," you say awkwardly.|C1_33.6]] *[[Put your hands up in mock surrender.|C1_33.7]]

<<set $aggression += 2>>"Balvent? Do me a favor and fuck off," you grumble, going to pull out your dagger to clean it. Vethna scoffs in response, crossing their arms tighter over their chest as they pop a hip out, a scowl on their face. "Excuse me?" You say nothing, refusing to feed into their bratty behavior as you inspect your blade in the flickering light of the fireplace meeting your own gaze in the knife's reflection. Vethna spends several moments glaring a hole into you... and then, just like always, they grow tired of their own drama and take a seat beside you. Vethna grumbles at the knowing ghost of a smile that crawls onto your lips, and you simply raise your brows in response. Their attention falls away from you eventually, their head tilting up to look at the ceiling. It's only when they let out a quiet huff that you follow their stare. "What?" you mutter, glancing upwards. The ceiling is painted blue, white stars sprinkled about. It doesn't resemble any constellations you've ever seen, that's for sure. Vethna doesn't respond for a long moment— and it's in their extended silence that a single water droplet falls right onto your forehead. "//That//," Vethna says pointedly, an amused smile on their face as they watch you wipe the water off your face with a scowl. <center>[[A flash of lightning.|C1_34.1]]</center>

<<set $genuine += 2>>"Alright. Offer rescinded," you say quietly, ignoring their huffing at your lack of exciting response. You pull your dagger out, inspecting the blade in the fireplace's dim light, meeting your own gaze in the knife's reflection. Vethna spends several moments glaring a hole into you... and then, just like always, they grow tired of their own drama and take a seat beside you. Vethna grumbles at the knowing ghost of a smile that crawls onto your lips, and you simply raise your brows in response. Their attention falls away from you eventually, their head tilting up to look at the ceiling. It's only when they let out a quiet huff that you follow their stare. "What?" you mutter, glancing upwards. The ceiling is painted blue, white stars sprinkled about. It doesn't resemble any constellations you've ever seen, that's for sure. Vethna doesn't respond for a long moment— and it's in their extended silence that a single water droplet falls right onto your forehead. "//That//," Vethna says pointedly, an amused smile on their face as they watch you wipe the water off your face with a scowl. <center>[[A flash of lightning.|C1_34.1]]</center>

<<set $sarcasm += 2>>"Only sometimes," you say with a grin. You lean back in your chair until it's tipped onto its back two legs, Vethna's gaze flickering to where you balance before they scoff and roll their eyes. You think they're about to go lay on their bed to get away from you when they, rather begrudgingly, pull out the chair beside you to sit down instead. Your grin widens, and Vethna shoots you a dark look in response. //Shut up.// You wink, and Vethna makes an exaggerated show of slumping in their seat, looking up to stare at the ceiling as they grumble in Mavikras. "What? I didn't say anything," you say, a knowing look in your eyes. Vethna doesn't even deign you with a response, and in defeat you stare up at the ceiling as well. "What are we looking at—?" You're cut off by a single water droplet landing directly in your eye. "Ack!" You rub at your eye, nearly falling backwards in your chair as Vethna breaks out into laughter. "Stop laughing!" Vethna shakes their head, their hand lifting to cover their bright smile as they try to speak. They finally seem to regain their composure after several moments, their lips parting— <center>[[A flash of lightning.|C1_34.2]]</center>

<<set $sarcasm += 2>>"I guess you could go for a solid squat instead," you suggest, feigning thought as you stroke your chin, glancing at where Vethna's heeled-clat feet are planted. Vethna gives you a long, unimpressed look, and your brows furrow in response. "What?" you ask. "I'm serious. I think you could do it. You'd get killer thighs by the end of it, too— not that you don't already have amazing thighs—" "Please, just stop," Vethna mutters. "You're making me embarrassed for you." You pause. "You're just jealous I have better thighs than you." They blink. And then their expression sours. "No you don't." "Yes, I do." "//No,// you—" <center>[[A flash of lightning.|C1_34.2]]</center>

<<set $stoic += 2>>You stare at them before you shake your head. You don't have time for this right now, and you ignore Vethna's scoff at your lack of response as your hand runs down your side to the holster of your weaponry. You pull your dagger out, inspecting the blade in the fireplace's dim light, meeting your own gaze in the knife's reflection. Vethna spends several moments glaring a hole into you... and then, just like always, they grow tired of their own drama and take a seat beside you. An almost companionable silence settles between you both despite their sass, Vethna watching the fireplace as you inspect your weapons. The monotony of the moment is disrupted when Vethna huffs quietly, their head craned to look at the ceiling. "What?" you mutter, glancing upwards. It's painted blue, white stars sprinkled about. It doesn't resemble any constellations you've ever seen, that's for sure. Vethna doesn't respond for a long moment— and it's in their extended silence that a single water droplet falls right onto your forehead. "//That//," Vethna says pointedly, an amused smile on their face as they watch you wipe the water off your face with a scowl. <center>[[A flash of lightning.|C1_34.1]]</center>

<<set $genuine += 2>><<set $vethna += 1>>You blink at them, suddenly feeling painfully aware of the way they're staring discontentedly at you. "I was just... making a suggestion," you say awkwardly, your brows furrowing as you glance off to the side. Vethna's expression softens... and immediately hardens again, their lips pressing together as they sigh and shake their head. Something like disappointment fills their gaze, but you don't think it's at you. "You're too nice," Vethna murmurs, pulling out the seat beside you. It could be a trick of the light, but you swear to the gods it looks like they're frowning as they watch the fire in the fireplace. You don't know what to say to that, so you say nothing at all, an almost companionable silence settling between you both. The monotony of the moment is disrupted when Vethna huffs quietly, their head craning to look at the ceiling. "What?" you mutter, glancing upwards. It's painted blue, white stars sprinkled about. It doesn't resemble any constellations you've ever seen, that's for sure. Vethna doesn't respond for a long moment— and it's in their extended silence that a single water droplet falls right onto your forehead. "//That//," Vethna says pointedly, an amused smile on their face as they watch you wipe the water off your face with a scowl. <center>[[A flash of lightning.|C1_34.2]]</center>

<<set $genuine += 2>><<set $sarcasm += 2>>You put your hands up in mock surrender, your eyes widening. Vethna tries to keep their glare but ends up failing miserably, a small smile forming on their face as they shake their head and huff, pulling out the chair beside you. "I hate you," they mutter, though their voice is, dare you say it, //fond.// You say nothing, watching as they settle down, their light expression fading into something darker. More serious. More //solemn.// You part your mouth to speak, but before you can get the words out— <center>[[A flash of lightning.|C1_34.2]]</center>

Your vision goes white. Your body tenses, and the entire body shakes as thunder roars so loudly that it deafens you for a moment. You blink once... //twice//... //''three''// times. It's only then that your vision returns to you, fuzzy and a bit tunneled. "By the gods," you hiss, standing up as you sheathe your blade to look outside. The rain pours down so heavily that the streets are already beginning to flood. "It'll be a miracle if we're not swimming our way out of here." "Is it that bad?" Vethna asks. Their voice wavers, and when you turn to look at them their face is pale, brows furrowed as they worry at their lip. *[["What? Are you scared of thunderstorms?" you tease.|C1_35.1]] *[[You can't help but feel some concern. "What's wrong?"|C1_35.2]] *[[They're acting weird. "You need to tell me what's going on with you."|C1_35.3]] *[[Leave it alone.|C1_35.4]]

Your vision goes white. Your body tenses, and the entire body shakes as thunder roars so loudly that it deafens you for a moment. You blink once... //twice//... //''three''// times. It's only then that your vision returns to you,fuzzy and a bit tunneled. "By the gods," you hiss, standing up to look outside. The rain pours down so heavily that the streets are already beginning to flood. "It'll be a miracle if we're not swimming our way out of here." "Is it that bad?" Vethna asks. Their voice wavers, and when you turn to look at them their face is pale, brows furrowed as they worry at their lip. *[["What? Are you scared of thunderstorms?" you tease.|C1_35.1]] *[[You can't help but feel some concern. "What's wrong?"|C1_35.2]] *[[They're acting weird. "You need to tell me what's going on with you."|C1_35.3]] *[[Leave it alone.|C1_35.4]]

"What, are you scared of storms?" "What?" They sound offended for a moment, expression indignant before they seem to regain control of themself. "//No//," they hiss. "I'm not afraid of storms." "You sure? There's nothing wrong if you are—" "I'm not." "You're being skittish," you press. Vethna frowns, their lips pressing together stubbornly. "I already told you. I'm tired." You snort in response, looking out the window again before you let the sheer curtains close. "You're acting the exact opposite of tired. Delusional, maybe." You look at them, and for once they seem to writhe under the attention. "Paranoid? //Very//. We've been together for a month now and I still don't know what you're running from." "Do you have memory?" Vethna snips. "Magic-hunters." You stare at them, and from the way the defiance leaves their gaze, you can tell they know you don't believe them. "No one's that afraid of magic-hunters," you state. "And even if it //was// just magic-hunters, why are they after //you// of all people?" Vethna shrinks beneath your stare, looking to the window, craving an escape while fearing what lays outside. They wince when lightning strikes again. They wince when lightning strikes again. They don't say anything for a long moment. They don't do //anything.// And then they're sighing, eyes squeezing shut as if they're reconciling with something before their faintly-glowing eyes open once more and lock on yours. "Fine," they mutter quietly, glancing at the chair you were sitting in. Your gaze holds theirs before you sit down again, Vethna swallowing thickly as they look at the fireplace so they don't have to face you. "What is it you want to know?" <<include "C1_36">>

"What's wrong?" you ask, your expression softening in worry. Vethna has to force themself to tear their gaze from the window to look at you, and you watch them futilely try to hide their fear. "What do you mean?" "You're acting weird." They blink owlishly, as if they couldn't process what it is you just said... and they they're forcing a wry smile as an off-putting chuckle escapes them. "I told you," they say, voice strained in its attempt to sound calm, "I'm tired." For a moment you just continue to watch as they writhe beneath your attention before you're approaching them, their entire body stiffening as you do. You stop when you're right next to them, and it's then that you go down to your knees to force them to face you. "//Vethna//." They look at you. "I've known you for a whole month, and I still don't know what it is you're running from." Their brows furrow, their eyes flickering between yours. "I //did// tell you—" "Magic-hunters," you finish, biting back your own exhaustion. "Yeah, I know." But you don't believe that. You stopped believing that a while ago. And Vethna knows it, their eyes now avoiding yours. "No one's this afraid of magic-hunters," you state. "And even if it //was// just magic-hunters, why are they after //you// of all people?" Vethna shrinks beneath your stare, looking like they want to be anywhere else but here as they stare out the window, craving an escape yet fearing what lays outside. They wince when lightning strikes again. They don't say anything for a long moment. They don't do //anything.// And then they're sighing, eyes squeezing shut as if they're reconciling with something before their faintly-glowing eyes open once more and lock on yours. "Okay," they whisper, nodding at the chair you were sitting in. Your gaze holds theirs before you sit down again, Vethna swallowing thickly as they look at the fireplace so they don't have to face you. "What is it you want to know?" <<include "C1_36">>

"I need you to tell me what's going on," you state. Vethna blinks owlishly at your words, not comprehending them fully before you're striding towards them... and then they're frowning, looking almost offended by your words. "What?" they ask. "Nothing's going on." They stare at you, and you can't tell if the look in their eyes is defiance or defensive in their actual ignorance. They cross their arms when your stare lingers, their frown turning into a pout... and then they're staring at the floor like a child giving the silent treatment. "Vethna," you begin, trying to soften your voice. You knew better than to take the blunt approach with them when they got like this. You approach them, and they almost have to wrestle with themself to force themself to look at you again. "I can't do my job unless you tell me what I need to be looking out for," you state. "I've already told you," they argue, "they're magic-hunters—" "You know I don't believe that," you interrupt, crossing your arms as you shift your weight where you stand. Vethna's gaze hardens, and you know then that you've cornered them. "No one's //this// afraid of magic-hunters," you state. "And even if it //was// just magic-hunters, why are they after //you// of all people?" Vethna shrinks beneath your stare, looking to the window, craving an escape while fearing what lays outside. They wince when lightning strikes again. They don't say anything for a long moment. They don't do //anything.// And then they're sighing, eyes squeezing shut as if they're reconciling with something before their faintly-glowing eyes open once more and lock on yours. "Fine," they mutter quietly, glancing at the chair you were sitting in. Your gaze holds theirs before you sit down again, Vethna swallowing thickly as they look at the fireplace so they don't have to face you. "What is it you want to know?" <<include "C1_36">>

You give them a scrutinizing look before turning to look out the window again. You can feel their gaze burning on your back as you turn away, and you're already expecting their judgmental, defensive voice by the time they speak. "If you have something to say just say it," they snip. You don't turn to face them, instead watching debris begin to be washed away in the river that's formed in the streets. It's only when it sinks beneath the surface of the water that you look at them, leaning against the window frame. "What are you running from?" you ask. They frown at that. "I've already told you—" "Don't lie to me." Your voice isn't a threat. It's not even a warning. But you're tired of being kept in the dark. You know it's not Vrithkan magic-hunters that Vethna's running from. And you know they know. "Don't act like you don't know I've noticed," you state, moving to sit across from them, leaning on your knees. "Moving aimlessly from one place to the next. How anxious you get when we stay in place for too long. No one's //that// afraid of magic-hunters. And even if it //was// just magic-hunters, why are they after //you// of all people?" Vethna shrinks beneath your stare, looking to the window, craving an escape while fearing what lays outside. They wince when lightning strikes again. They don't say anything for a long moment. They don't do //anything.// And then they're sighing, eyes squeezing shut as if they're reconciling with something before their faintly-glowing eyes open once more and lock on yours. "Fine," they mutter quietly, glancing at the chair you were sitting in. Your gaze holds theirs before you sit down again, Vethna swallowing thickly as they look at the fireplace so they don't have to face you. "What is it you want to know?" <<include "C1_36">>

<<if $cd1 eq false>>*[['"What are you actually running from?"'|C1_36_A][$cd1 to true; $dc += 1]]<</if>><<if $cd2 eq false>>*[['"How long were you on the run before meeting me?"'|C1_36_B][$cd2 to true; $dc += 1]]<</if>><<if $cd3 eq false>>*[['"How long do you expect this arrangement to last?"'|C1_36_C][$cd3 to true]]<</if>><<if $cd4 eq false>>*[['"Who are you really?"'|C1_36_D][$cd4 to true]]<</if>><<if $dc eq 2>>*[['Lean back in your chair. "So, why\'s this storm making you so nervous?"'|C1_37]]<</if>>

"What are you actually running from?" you ask. Vethna bites the inside of their cheek at the question, their gaze darting off to the side as their fingers drum on the arms of the chair. "It's not exactly a simple answer," Vethna says slowly. "It's a simple question." Vethna's expression twists. "Yes, but I do so enjoy complicating things. Have you not noticed that by now?" they snip. The venom in their voice quickly fades as they settle back down, starting to play with their hair. They're quiet in thought for a long while before they continue. "I suppose it would suffice to say my instructor." "Your instructor?" you ask, confused. "Like your teacher?" Vethna gives you a dull look. //Obviously,// But it wasn't the definition of the word you were caught up in. Why in the hells would their teacher be so hellbent on chasing them into Plaithian territory? "Why?" you ask. "Why?" "Why are they after you? I don't understand." Your brain starts running off with all sorts of ideas. Did they steal something? Kill someone? Were they really just that important to whoever it was that was chasing them? Vethna frowns as they watch you spiral. "He's a family friend," Vethna clarifies, clearly wanting to put a stop to your racing thoughts. "A friend of my father, to be more exact." "And who's your father?" "Unimportant," they state, waving a hand in the air in dismissal. "The point is, I disagreed with the methods I was being taught, things got messy, and now I'm here. And I am //not// going back." You go quiet at that, a bitter sort of determination laced in their voice that has even you feeling a bit unsettled. You simply nod in response, not wanting to push them further. <<include "C1_36">>

"How long were you on the run before meeting me?" you ask. "Not long," Vethna says, drawing circles on the table with one of their green painted nails, "not long at all." "Sounds ominous." Vethna's hand pauses, and their eyes meet yours/ "Don't make more out of it than need be." You want to point out that their response only makes it //more// ominous, but you don't. Instead, you look at the countless expensive rings that cover their fingers. "It wasn't a sudden decision, if that's what you're wondering," Vethna says. "I'd been planning it for weeks. Every minute detail. Otherwise, we wouldn't be sitting here now." Such words only make your gut twist, a sour taste settling in your mouth at the fact they've been lying to you. "Granted, //finding// you happened... sooner than expected. Much sooner." "What do you mean?" "I had no idea Lnyla and Javier would've made their move when they did. Going after you so recklessly—" <<if $j_e eq "v_kill">>"Hold on," you mutter, "Lnyla, that woman Jamie was with— she's a Vygrander?" Vethna nods. "Yes. Her and Jamie are cousins belonging to House Erudias. He is the... the //heir//," Vethna says, the word sounding awkward and loose on their tongue. "Why would a Vygrander want me dead?" you ask, brows furrowing. House Erudias... House Erudias... yes. You can vaguely recall their house colors being the same royal blue of the fabric on Jamie's torso... but that woman, Lnyla, she had been in commoners clothing. And all that blood... "She's a sorcerer?" you breathe. Vethna nods, their own expression a bit torn. "Yes. Well known. I don't know how she managed to... to hide her nature so well," Vethna says, gaze going distant in a tell-tale sign they're deep in thought. "To glamor over the //vak'zeth//, the... the glow of her eyes," Vethna says, "it would take skilled illusive magic. I suppose she could've used a glamor potion, but..." you tune them out as they begin to mutter beneath their breath in thought, feeling bile crawling up the back of your throat. Lnyla was more than a sorcerer. That blood on her... it wasn't her. You knew that. But now a sickening realization stirs within you. She was using blood magic. And you let her get the upperhand on you. Let her run off free to do gods knows what. "And she wanted me dead," you state beneath your breath, making Vethna look at you. "//They// wanted me dead. Her and...?"<<elseif $j_e eq "friends" or "resentful">>"Jamie was after me, too?" you blurt. Vethna's lips stay parted, furrowing their brows at your interruption. "Look, it doesn't //matter// what that fool's intentions were. I'm simply stating Lnyla's and his little //excurison// cost me my plans." They sigh, eying you head-to-toe before they settle back in their chair, crossing their legs. "For what it's worth, I can't see Jamie being much of a problem to us in the future. Just his gods-awful cousin." "Okay. Fine. So //Lnyla// wants me dead, and who else...?"<<else>>"Hold on," you mutter, "Lnyla, that woman Jamie was with— she's a Vygrander?" Vethna pauses, looking confused before they meet your gaze. "Yes. Her and Jamie are cousins. Jamie is the... the //heir// of House Erudias," Vethna says, the word //heir// seemingly foreign on their tongue. House Erudias... House Erudias... yes. You can vaguely recall their house colors being the same royal blue of the fabric on Jamie's torso... but that woman, Lnyla, she had been in commoners clothing. And all that blood... Your gut sinks. It wasn't hers. "You didn't know?" Vethna asks, brows furrowing. You say nothing, pinching your nose in response as you bite back a frustrated sound. "She's a magic-user?" you clarify. You need to hear it. Need Vethna to confirm it in their own words. "Yes. A sorcerer. Well known." A blood sorcerer. And you just let her run free to do gods' know what. "And they were after me? Lnyla and...?"<</if>> "Javier," Vethna says, their lips pressing together. //"Why?"// Vethna's expression is passive, unreadable, and yet for a fraction of a second you can see their brow furrow, the corner of their lips twitching. "I don't know. I just know that they think you're... important, somehow." Their words make you feel ill. Great. Now you don't have just Plaithus to worry about, but Vygrand, too? <center>[[Continue.|C1_36_B1]]</center>

<<set $cd4 to true>>You suck on your teeth, your head tilting curiously. "So, who are you really?" you ask. Vethna pauses at that, their shoulders bunching up a little as they eye you warily. "What?" "I mean, I know nothing about you. You're a sorcerer, you're an illusionist, you're from Vygrand..." "Nothing beyond that matters," Vethna states, their gaze holding yours. There's something almost cold hidden behind their gaze. Something that reminds you of... //Mother.// You swallow thickly. You don't want to think about her. "Keep acting all skittish and I'll start thinking you're hiding something real important," you murmur, and Vethna frowns. "Why do you care?" *[["I don't take kindly being kept in the dark, Balvent," you warn.|C1_36_D_A]] *[["I would like us to be on friendly terms," you admit.|C1_36D_B]] *[[... They're right. It doesn't matter. Not really.|C1_36D_C]]

"Javier," they state, "he and I shared the same instructor. We grew up together. We used to be..." they trail off, gaze focused on nothing on particular as they struggle to find the right word. Unable to find it, they simply settle with "friends," but the small frown that settles on their face tells you that might not be the whole story. "He's an elemental user," they continue. "Storms, lightning, //fire//, they're his strong suit. I suppose a part of me can't help but feel uneasy about it all even now." "And you said... he wants me dead?" Vethna presses their lips together, like your statement is //almost// right but not quite... and then simply nod. "Would he be sent after us?" you ask. You don't know if you're equipped to handle multiple Vygrandian sorcerers after you. No. You //know// you're not. "Possibly," Vethna says quietly. "He's always been brash. Reckless. Ambitious. I'd be lying if I said I haven't thought about it." They frown then shake their head. "I'm probably just being paranoid—" "No." You shake your head. "Never doubt your instincts." They're quiet for a moment, taking in your words before a wry smile curls on their lips. "What is it that everyone says? 'Better safe than sorry'?" They let out a nervous, if not bitter, huff as they shake their head, clearly going through some kind of inside joke as they drum their nails on the table. "Are you sure this //isn't// him?" you ask, casting another questioning look at the sky. "Orange lightning," Vethna states. You raise a brow, and they repeat it a second time. "Orange lightning. See that, and then we can worry." //Orange lightning.// Why... does that seem so familiar? <center>[[Continue.|C1_38]]</center>

"How long do you expect this arrangement to last then?" you ask. It's not actually something yeither of you have actually discussed in detail, but you've always had the sneaking feeling Vethna had no plans on going away anytime soon. You couldn't blame them either, honestly. Even if your past month together has been, for the most part, uneventful, it never felt //peaceful.// No. It's always felt like you've just been waiting for the other shoe to drop. "I... don't know," they say. "I thought you had this all figured out." They give you a dirty look. "I'm an illusionist, not a seer," they snip. You just raise a brow at them as they sigh, frowning when they rest their chin on their hand. "A few months at least," they mutter. "Maybe when winter fully settles in they might just assume I died in the Grexarres Mountains and give up." You can't help but snort a little at that, knowing damn well how brutal Plaithian winters could get. "What?" Vethna asks, pouting a little. "Nothing," you say, waving your hand dismissively. They'd find out soon enough just how accurate their joke may end up being. "I'm here for as long as you need me, provided I don't die." "Don't joke about that." "Right. Don't want your skin on the line." <<if $vethna >= 2>>"That's not..." they shake their head as they look away, chewing on their bottom lip as they play with their hands. "I enjoy your company," they admit rather sheepishly. Something within you sparks to life at that, something from //before//, back when you had a clear purpose and a duty. It's... //nice.// But discomforting, in a way, too. Unsettling.<<else>>"Would go against the entire point of having a guard, yes." They nod.<</if>> <<include "C1_36">>

"Is that why you really chose me to be your guard?" you ask quietly. "Because you knew they were going to come after me at some point?" Vethna's quiet for a long moment, but then they nod. "It felt... I don't know," Vethna breathes. "I needed to get away, and you needed to stay away from Vygrand. It felt... fateful." //Fateful.// A strange feeling stirs in your gut, and you swallow it down hard. A part of you feels betrayed, but you don't know why. It's not like Vethna owed you anything. Hells, they didn't even //know// you.<<if $j_e != "v_kill">> And, while Vethna's proved to be a piece of work at times, they've never done anything to make you doubt their loyalty to you when it came to this strange alliance you found yourselves in.<</if>><<if $j_e eq "v_kill">> And besides, they //killed// to keep you alive. Killed one of their own. It's hard to doubt their loyalty when it comes down to it.<</if>> <<include "C1_36">>

"I don't take kindly to being kept in the dark, Balvent," you warn. "I'm putting my life on the line by protecting you. The least you could do is be honest." "You should've negotiated for honesty when you agreed to guard me," Vethna retorts, crossing their arms. "In Darkness's sacrifice, Balvent, I deserve to know who I'm working with. Quit making everything so personal." "You know, that's the //proble// with you Plaithians. You refuse to acknowledge //anything// as being personal when everything always is." "I didn't come for a philosophy lesson, now //talk//," you demand, refusing to let them derail the conversation. Vethna scowls, but they recognize defeat when they see the stubbornness in your gaze. "Fine. One question, $l_name. //One.//" *[["Tell me more about your magic," you state.|C1_36_D_A_A]] *[['"Why not just kill me and return to Vygrand? You'd be a hero, wouldn't you?"'|C1_36_D_B]] *[["If you were around Vygrandian nobility, shouldn't you have..." you trail off, vaguely gesturing to your abdomen. A tie around their waist, dedicated to their Leading House.|C1_36_D_C]]

<<set $vethna +2>>"I would like us to be on friendly terms," you admit. "We're going to be stuck together for a while. It would be nice to know one another." Vethna gives you an incredulous look, like they don't believe a word that you're saying... but when they see the genuineness in your expression, their shoulders sagging. "Alright. Fine. But only one question, okay? //One.//" *[['"Is there anyone you miss from home?"'|C1_36_D_B_A]] *[["Uh... favorite food?"'|C1_36_D_B_C]] *[["What's... your favorite color?" ♥|C1_36_D_B_B][$vethna_r +=1]]

You frown at their immediate defense, but you don't have a good retort. They're right. It doesn't matter. Not really. And the more professional the two of you keep things, the better. Right? "I suppose you're right," you say with a shake of your head. Vethna shifts uncomfortably, gripping the arms of their chair slightly as they nod in agreement. It's as if the close brush with any sort of companionship between you both has left them shaken. <<include "C1_36">>

"Your magic," you say. "Tell me more." Vethna's head tilts, hair falling over their shoulders as their brows furrow. "Sorcerers," you say. "Vygranders. You have specializations, don't you?" Vethna hums in an non-commital answer, offering a vague shrug. "Supposedly." //Supposedly?// You have the feeling they know their being difficult if the distant look in their eyes is anything to go, lips curling into an almost smug smile. It fades though as they look off to the side. "I know how you Plaithians group us. Like we're categories of weapons. External magic, internal magic, sensory, material..." "Like your kind don't do the same with //mythosi//," you retort. "Glorified walking blood bags, right? Living drugs? Go ahead and pick what kind of high you want." They say nothing. And neither do you. "Illusion," they say finally. You look at them. You didn't think they were actually going to answer you. "I specialize in illusion." "Have you used it on me?" you ask. They scoff lightly, light, sardonic amusement laced in their voice. "Wouldn't you be able to tell?" Maybe. Probably. But the way they say it unsettles you nonetheless. <<include "C1_36">>

"Is there anyone you miss from home?" you ask. Vethna's eyes narrow at you, clearly not pleased with the question as their lips press together. But then they think on it for a moment, watching the fire, the severity of their expression fading. "Well..." they say, voice trailing off. "I have a pet snake. Back home," they say. "Or //had// a pet snake." You blink. "What?" They roll their eyes at your reaction, leaning back in their chair to twirl a strand of hair around their finger. "He's a child's python. He used to like slithering in my robes for the heat." "... what was //his// name?" you ask. Vethna stares at you blankly. For a second you think they're not going to respond before they blurt it out. One syllable. "Karl. With a K." "... Karl?" "Yes." *[['"That's a terrible name."'|C1_36_D_B_AA]] *[['"What? Why with a 'K'?"'|C1_36_D_B_AB]] *[['"Love it."'|C1_36_D_B_AC]] *[[... You have no comment.|C1_36_D_B_AD]]

<<set $vethna_r +2>>"What's your favorite color?" you ask. Vethna's brows furrow, sheer judgment radiating from them. "Seriously?" "What?" "You could ask me//anything//, and you choose to ask me what my favorite color is?" "Okay, and what would //you// have asked?" "Something practical. Useful," they say, rolling their wrist as they speak. You raise a brow at them, your eyes flickering between theirs just long enough for them to frown a bit, eyes darting away from yours. "What if I don't just want to know practical and useful things about you?" you ask. "What if I just like learning about who you are? What you like?" They cross their arms. Refuse to meet your gaze. "I can't possibly fathom why such things would be of any interest to you." You see the way their lips press together stubbornly, teeth chewing at their cheek. Despite their silence, they do speak after a long, drawn out moment, fretting beneath the weight of your stare. "Pink," they relent. Their voice comes out quiet. Soft enough to miss. You hum, lean closer to them by resting your elbows on the table. "What //kind// of pink?" They swallow. Their eyes meet yours before narrowing, suspicious. "What are you doing?" they ask. "What do you mean?" Their frown deepens, leg bouncing. They go quiet again. You've learned by now Vethna's more shy than they are stand-offish. It just comes off wrong. But give them enough time? They always come clean... "Pink like in a sunset," they say finally. "With orange mixed in." They refuse to even look in your direction, but a smile forms on your face regardless. "That's nice." They don't respond. Just hum in a way that insinuates they'd rather this conversation go in any direction that pulls the weight of your attention away from them. <<include "C1_36">>

<<set $cd1 to false>><<set $cd2 to false>><<set $cd3 to false>><<set $cd4 to false>><<set $dc to 0>>You push the feeling away. You must be on edge, and the constantly booming thunder is doing nothing to help matters. "You know, I wasn't lying about the magic-hunters," Vethna adds. You only nod in response, chewing on the side of your tongue as you pace around the room lost in thought. Right now, you can't find it in you to give two shits about Vrithkan magic-hunters. "Javier," you say, steering the conversation back, "how do you compare to him? Magically?" Vethna blinks at you, and their lips part but they say nothing for several long-lasting seconds. "Why are you asking?" "If multiple Vygrandian sorcerers come after us, I can't guarantee either of us would get out of that alive with just me and a rusted blade," you state, turning to look at them as you pace past where they sit. "Now tell me. How do you compare?" You speak quick, praying to the corpses of the gods Vethna doesn't ask //why,// //why// you can't handle a couple of Vygrandian sorcerers now when three years ago you could've faced half an army of them with your eyes closed. "Not... well," Vethna admits, gaze dropping downwards. The words come out forced, pained, and you swear you can see them cringe where they sit. "Before I left Vygrand, I might've stood a chance but I... had been falling behind in my studies for some time. And Javier... he... //excelled.//" The way they speak makes you think they're talking about something //other// than just reading books and doing arcane homework, but before you can press, this time Vethna's the one rushing to cut off your interrogation. "Javier's dangerous," Vethna states. "So whatever plan you think it is you're cooking up there, stop it." Their warning is valid. And yet it makes you feel a desire to rebel against it, like a teenager's itching need to disobey any rule set out before them. Four years ago, you could've handled someone like Javier easily. You could've fought a small armada of sorcerers and escaped with minor cuts and bruises. And now... Now you're here, pacing a small, run-down inn, trying to ignore the dull, chronic aching in your spine as you bite back memories of who you used to be. A somebody. A //legend.// //The fall from grace is painful, isn't it, Commander? But it's not the fall that hurts the most. It's the memory of it that aches.// <center>[[That... was not your thought.|C1_39][$sanity -=2]]</center>

Your pacing stops as you immediately spin on your heel, eyes scanning the room for an intruder that's not there. Your hand grips the pommel of your sword as Vethna startles, looking around the room just as warily before looking to you. "What is it?" You barely shake your head in response as you rip the curtains of the window open, sticking your head outside. You heard something. You //heard// it. But even as you look out, the streets are devoid of any and all life. There's no one here. Just you, and Vethna, and the reassuring flickering lights in the windows of the neighboring buildings. It's deceiving. A //trick.// You can feel something is wrong, feel it in your gut, in the way the hair on the back of your neck stands on end. "$name?" You hear Vethna rise to stand, hear the sound of their heeled feet hitting the ground before they're grabbing you by the back of your shirt and coaxing you back inside, their eyes uneasily flickering between your eyes as water drips down your face. "I heard something," you state. You feel a single water drop run into the inner corner of your eye. Another runs to the corner of your mouth. You lick it away. "I... didn't hear anything." They pause. "Are you sure you're..." "It was in my head. But I heard it, Balvent. I //heard// it." You know, distantly, in the back of your head you sound insane. But it doesn't matter. You a trepid sort of mania rushes through you, and you can feel eyes watching you. So where are they? //Where are they?// Vethna's eyes widen almost imperceptibly. //Almost//. Something like worrying pity settles in their expression. You stand up so suddenly that the chair beneath you falls to the ground, Vethna flinching in their seat from the abrupt movement and noise, eyes wide as they stare at you. "I don't know what that means," they say softly. You hate it. You want to grab them by the shoulders and shake them, but you don't. You're not insane. You're //not,// "It //means// exactly what I said," you snarl, ripping your arm from their grasp. They recoil as you do, standing helplessly as you resume your pacing around the room, tugging at your <span class="test"><<cycle "$h_length" autoselect>> <<option "long hair">> <<option "medium-length hair">> <<option "short hair">> <<option "armor (bald)">></span> <</cycle>> in frustration.</span> "What did it sound like?" Vethna asks, trailing after you. A part of you wants to tell them to piss off and sit down, to just let you figure this out and do your job, but you're painfully aware that whatever //this// is, it's out of your pay grade. It's arcane. It //has// to be. You stop, and you must look wild since Vethna recoils from you when you turn to face them.<<if $beast eq "gorgon">> You can taste the venom in your mouth, feel it dripping from your fangs as you attempt to calm yourself.<<elseif $beast eq "wolf">> You let out a snarl, muscles aching as you wrestle with yourself to stay calm.<<elseif $beast eq "phoenix">> Flames flicker between your fingers, your body infuriatingly hot despite the cold water that's soaked your clothes.<<else>> You hear whispers, this time ones you're familiar with— the whispers of your demon compatriots telling you to do less than holy and noble deeds. You take in a breath to steady yourself and drown them out.<</if>> "It sounded just like me—" //''Look at you, introducing me to your friend like a good little <<cycle "$gender" autoselect>> <<option "nobleman">> <<option "noblewoman">> <<option "noble">> <<option "noble [[(choose own pronouns)|pronoun_s]]">></span> <</cycle>>. <center>[[Continue.|C_40]]</center>

<<nobr>><<if $gender is "nobleman">><<set $himself to "himself">><<set $he to "he">><<set $him to "him">><<set $his to "his">><<set $his2 to "his">><<set $sibling to "brother">><<set $prince to "prince">><<set $v to 2>><<set $man to "man">><<set $Nobleman to "Nobleman">><<set $Himself to "Himself">><<set $He to "He">><<set $Him to "Him">><<set $His to "His">><<set $His2 to "His">><<set $Sibling to "Brother">><<set $Prince to "Prince">><<set $Man to "Man">><<elseif $gender is "noblewoman">><<set $himself to "herself">><<set $he to "she">><<set $him to "her">><<set $his to "her">><<set $his2 to "hers">><<set $sibling to "sister">><<set $prince to "princess">><<set $v to 2>><<set $man to "woman">><<set $Nobleman to "Noblewoman">><<set $Himself to "Herself">><<set $He to "She">><<set $Him to "Her">><<set $His to "Hers">><<set $His2 to "Hers">><<set $Sibling to "Sister">><<set $Prince to "Princess">><<set $Man to "Woman">><<else>><<set $himself to "themself">><<set $he to "they">><<set $him to "them">><<set $his to "their">><<set $his2 to "theirs">><<set $sibling to "sibling">><<set $prince to "royal">><<set $v to 1>><<set $man to "person">><<set $Nobleman to "Noble">><<set $Himself to "Themself">><<set $He to "They">><<set $Him to "Them">><<set $His to "Their">><<set $His2 to "Theirs">><<set $Sibling to "Sibling">><<set $Prince to "Royal">><<set $Man to "Person">><</if>><<if $h_length is "long hair">><<set $h_length to "long">><</if>><<if $h_length is "medium-length hair">><<set $h_length to "medium-length">><</if>><<if $h_length is "short hair">><<set $h_length to "short">><</if>><<if $h_length is "armor (bald)">><<set $h_length to "buzz-cut">><</if>><</nobr>>"Okay, well, what did it say?" Vethna asks, stepping closer to you. You can see their desire to help radiating off of them, their hands slightly outstretched as if to steady you. "It's //taunting// me," you say. Your heart hammers in your chest, each palpitation forcing it to brush against your ribcage as you struggle to keep your breathing even. You should be better than this, //stronger.// Instead, you're shaking like a squire seeing battle for the first time. //Screams. Blood dripping from your sword. You were confused. So, ''so'' confused.// The world is spinning. Or maybe //you're// spinning...? //You couldn't recognize their faces, and one by one they fell, like dominos, until there were ''none left.''// You focus on Vethna's face to steady yourself— the sharp contours of their jaw, the way the fireplace carves out their cheekbones and the sharpness of their nose. //Vethna//, you tell yourself. //That's Vethna.// "$name?" they repeat quietly,, a hand outstretching for your shoulder. They look... scared. Or maybe confused. You can't tell. You can't tell //anything...// <<if $ward eq true>><center>[[The door slams inwards. Hard.|C1_41A]]</center><<else>><center>[[The door's kicked open.|C1_41B]]</center><</if>>

Type in your pronouns below. ''Do not capitalize anything.'' What pronoun do you use in place of "they"? <<textbox "$gen1" "">> What pronoun do you use in place of "them"? <<textbox "$gen2" "">> What pronoun do you use in place of "their"? <<textbox "$gen3" "">> What pronoun do you use in place of "theirs"? <<textbox "$gen4" "">> Which of these would be most accurate in describing you: a man, woman, or person? <<textbox "$man" "">> Which of these would be most accurate in describing you: a man, woman, or person? <<listbox "$man" autoselect>> <<option "man">> <<option "woman">> <<option "person">> <</listbox>><<if $man eq "man">><<set $sibling to "brother">><<set $prince to "prince">><<elseif $man eq "woman">>">><<set $sibling to "sister">><<set $prince to "princess">><<else>><<set $sibling to "sibling">><<set $prince to "royal">><</if>> Finally, do you use the plural or singular conjugation of verbs? (plural: were, say, yell | singular: was, says, yells) <<listbox "$v" autoselect>> <<option "plural">> <<option "singular">> <</listbox>><<if $v eq "plural">><<set $v to 1>><<else>><<set $v to 2>><</if>> <center>[[Continue.|C_40]]</center>

<<nobr>> <<widget "mr">>\ <<nobr>>\ <<if _args[0] is 0>>\ <span style="color:red; font-weight: bold;">Error: Invalid multireplace variable.</span>\ <<elseif _args[0] == true || _args[0] == false>>\ <<if _args[0] == true>>\ <<print _args[1]>>\ <<else>>\ <<print _args[2]>>\ <</if>>\ <<elseif _args[0] > 0>>\ <<set _calledvar = (0 + _args[0])>> <<print _args[_calledvar]>>\ <<else>>\ <span style="color:red; font-weight: bold;">Error: Invalid multireplace variable.</span>\ <</if>>\ <</nobr>>\ <</widget>>\ <</nobr>>

Vethna flinches, hiding behind you as the door splinters inwards. Your own heart spikes in your chest, your hand instinctively reaching for your sword before you realize the door is still some-what in place. The hinges hold on, but the wood is breaking... and then another //kick// sends more wood flying. "Get back," you mutter, ushering Vethna further behind before approaching the door. The force behind the kicks threatens to make the door give out, and you can't tell if it's nerves or excitement that you feel in your core, like a chained dog aching to bite. "I'd quit while you still have all your limbs attached," you warn, drawing out your blade slowly. "That's cute. You keep a journal of shitty threats to taunt people with or something?" A woman replies from the other side. Her voice is low, tinged with a rasp, and her retort is followed by another heavy //kick// of the door... "Who are you?" you ask, eyes glued to the loose door hinge. "Someone who'd remember to close the window." //Close the...?// "$name..." Vethna's nervous voice comes behind you, and you turn in time to see a clawed, scaled hand emerge from the darkness outside. The nails sink into the wood of the window frame, slicing through it like butter as a shadowed figure arises, two grey-green eyes glowing in the darkness. //Fuck.// Without thinking, you grab the bookshelf near the door and haul on it, making it tip over and fall sideways in front of the door before turning to the window once more. <center>[[Continue.|C1_41A_1]]</center>

<center><span class="imgb"><img src="images/Act I/INTRO_N+J.png"></span></center> Vethna flinches, hiding behind you as the door splinters inwards. Your own heart spikes in your chest, your hand instinctively unsheathing your sword as you hold it pointed toward the entrance. You blink. Two gorgons stand in front of you, a man and a woman, matching expressions of amusement on their faces. To say they're related would be an understatement. They're twins, nearly identical, their skin pallid and eyes a light glowing green bordering on gray "We interrupting something?" the man muses. The lopsided grin on his face widens, revealing the sharp, pointed fangs that gleam behind his lips. "Too late for a third to join?" The woman hisses something at him, literally //hisses//, and you think it might be some animalistic language you can't quite grasp from the way the man scowls and rolls his eyes, responding in a language that makes your skin crawl. //Vrithkan.// They're magic-hunters. They have to be. You could get into it now, take them when they're off-guard... but you'd be putting Vethna in danger. It's a small room, and it's two against one. Or, you could try and buy time... get Vethna out the window first... key word being //try.// *[[Attack.|C1_41B_A]] *[["You know what they say. Three's a crowd," you retort.|C1_41B_B]] *[["Are you children?" you drawl.|C1_41B_C]] *[["It's like the fucking wonder twins over here," you mutter.|C1_41B_D]] *[[Say nothing. They look ready to bicker with each other.|C1_41B_E]]

You're not going to sit around making witty remarks when you could be putting an //end// to this already. You have no idea who these gorgons are, but if they're actually magic-hunters, you don't plan on letting them get close to Vethna, that's for sure. The twins' attention turns to you when you adjust your grip on your sword, their expressions ones of matching, sadistic amusement. The man's is almost playful—like this is a game to him. The woman's is darker. //Much// darker. You don't like it at all. The only //good// thing is that their matching green eyes seem glued to you, not Vethna... who you're only vaguely aware of backing into the corner of the room. Daggers sit strapped to both of their thighs, and reluctantly, you slowly move to sheathe your sword once more, feigning a temporary surrender that neither gorgon seems to believe. It'll be easier to fight hand-to-hand. Wiser, anyhow. The two of them watch you, curiosity in their gazes... And then you're running at them, pulling out your dagger— you slash your dagger towards the midriff of the man, and in the brief opening of him dodging back, you turn your attention to the woman, rearing your elbow back at the last second to nail her in the chest as she goes to ascend upon you. They're both close to you, //too// close, and your initial attack has done little else than get the ball rolling, their shared attention on you. This is a balancing game. Keep them away from Vethna, don't let another get the upper hand, and //end this.// *[[Attack the woman.|C1_41B_A_A]] *[[Attack the man.|C1_41B_A_B]]

"You know what they say," you joke, the corner of your lips twitching up into a grin. The twins look at you at the same time, their expressions mismatched. The woman stares at you in annoyance, the man in narrow-eyed intrigue. "Three's a crowd." The woman's nose wrinkles in distate as the man tilts his head, a grin of his own forming. "Not if you're skilled," he retorts, the double-innuendo not passing you by. His fangs gleam in the light of the room, his eyes sparkling with some sort of sadistic amusement that has the hair on your neck rising on end. You don't know //why// you know, but you do. He's the type who won't stop at anything. Self-sacrifical, aggressive, //dangerous.// "The two of you can shoot the shit later," the woman snips, stepping forward. You raise your sword higher, though she doesn't even look at it. "Let's skip the bullshit. You come with us, or things get rowdy." *[["Well that's just a shame, considering you were the one I was wanting to get closer to," you tease. ♥|C1_41B_BA]] *[[You can't help but laugh. "That's cute. You thinking you can tell me what to do."|C1_41B_BB]] *[[Stay silent. You're on edge.|C1_41B_BC]]

<<set $vethna ++>><<notify 5s>>Vethna thought that was funny.<</notify>>You stare at the two of them in a mixture of disbelief and unimpressed judgment, Vethna staring at them both with furrowed brows. Sometimes, even in hostile situations like this, you two manage to bond in your ability to scrutinize others. "Are you two children?" you drawl, the corner of Vethna's lip curling into an amused smile. The twins answer at the same time, the man grinning, the woman scowling: "Yes." //"No."// The man's grin only widens more at his sister's growing contempt, a furious sound erupting from her throat. Her anger seems one she's fully content to take out on you as her eyes narrow. You're not surprised when she goes in for the attack, though you've clearly underestimated her. She lunges, ripping out the daggers at her hips with ease. She catches your sword between her blades, levering your sword to the side as your wrist screams in pain from the awkward angle. Your teeth gnash together as you release the blade, letting your sword go flying before you pull out your own dagger. Fine. Looks like these two actually know what they're doing then. This is a balancing game. Keep them away from Vethna, don't let another get the upper hand, and //end this.// *[[Attack the woman.|C1_41B_A_A]] *[[Attack the man.|C1_41B_A_B]]

<<set $vethna ++>><<notify 5s>>Vethna thought that was funny.<</notify>>"It's like the fucking wonder twins over here," you mutter. Vethna bites back a snort, the woman's attention turning to focus on you both, her pupils thinning into slits. "Hilarious," she sneers. "Original." You just raise a brow at her. Maybe they should reflect on their behavior if it's constant insult they hear, and //not// your humor skills. "Kinda have to agree," the man chimes in, popping his neck and rolling his shoulders. A crooked grin forms on his face, nose wrinkling. "You're not very funny, Commander." He rips out a dagger in one fluid motion as he speaks, spinning it easily in his grasp. Oh, for //fuck's// sake. The man attacks first. Throws the dagger right for your head. You dodge, barely, and a laugh escapes him. The woman launches herself at you at the same time, daggers in each hand. You swing, but he catches your sword between her blades, levering your sword to the side. You drop your sword quick before your arm gets broken in two, annoyance flairing on your features as you rip out your own dagger. Fine. Looks like these two actually know what they're doing then. This is a balancing game. Keep them away from Vethna, don't let another get the upper hand, and //end this.// *[[Attack the woman.|C1_41B_A_A]] *[[Attack the man.|C1_41B_A_B]]

<<set $mc_h2 to "hand">>You stay quiet as they bicker. Your eye threatens to twitch a bit, and you meet Vethna's stare when you feel them giving you a disbelieving look out of the corner of their eye. Yeah. This is really happening. You nod for Vethna to head towards the window. They immediatley make a face, not wanting to, and you have to bite back a flair of annoyance. Scary to them or not, you don't have the privilege of fear. They need to get out the window and down into the streets, //now.// You take steps back, slowly, eyes glued to the twins. Eventually, your back hits the window, your hand reaching for the window clasp— //Thunk.// Sharp pain shoots up your hand. You let out a pained grunt, knees threatening to buckle as your eyes widen. A dagger. In your hand. A dagger is in your //fucking// hand, through the palm, pinning it to the window frame. A frightened yelp escapes Vethna, both of their hands covering their mouth as you both turn your heads to the twins, the man's arm still out-stretched from his perfect throw. "You weren't trying to //sneak out// on us now, were you?" the man asks, head tilting. "Your mother clearly didn't teach you manners," the woman adds. Great. They even fucking quip together. You suck in a sharp, shaky breath, ripping the knife from your hand with a pained gasp. //Fuck.// That hurt. Your eyes drop to the wound, an inch and a half long in your hand, missing your tendons narrowly. You twist it in your hand to grasp tight, eyes flickering between the twins. "Alright," you growl, ignoring the burning pain in your palm. "Let's fucking get to it then." The woman smiles. The man laughs. Blood will most certainly be spilled. *[[Attack the woman.|C1_41B_A_A]] *[[Attack the man.|C1_41B_A_B]]

<center><span class="imgb"><img src="images/Act I/INTRO_Nikke.png"></span></center> You grab Vethna's arm, pulling them beside you. You can hear the door being kicked in still, a sharp curse escaping the woman when she's greeted with the added force of the shelf. Your ears burn when you hear the curse that leaves her lips. //Vrithkan.// Magic-hunters. They had to be. You watch as the figure crawls in, one of his legs contorting for his foot to land on the windowsill with a heavy step. You find yourself face-to-face with a gorgon, his lips curling up in a lazy, vicious smile. *[['"You make it a habit to crawl into people's bedrooms?"'|C1_41A_1A]] *[["This won't end well for you," you warn.|C1_41A_1B]] *[['"Well... this is awkward. There goes our escape strategy."'|C1_41A_1C]] *[[Tackle him out the window.|C1_41A_1D]]

"You make it a habit to crawl into people's bedrooms?" you ask, tilting your head as you move to stand in front of Vethna. You unsheathe your sword fully now, aiming it at the man, trying to ignore the pounding at the door behind you. The man grins at that, showing off his fangs, a low rumbling laugh escaping him as droplets of water dun down his face, further smearing the kohl on his face. He tilts his head at your question, slipping inside the room fully as he stands to his full height, <<if $height eq "very tall">>squaring you up.<<elseif $height eq "tall">>standing above you<<else>>towering over you.<</if>> <<include "C1_41A_2">>

"This won't end well for you," you warn, grabbing Vethna's arm and putting them behind you. You unsheathe your sword fully now, aiming it at the man, trying to ignore the pounding at the door behind you. The man grins at that, showing off his fangs, a low rumbling laugh escaping him as droplets of water dun down his face, further smearing the kohl on his face. He tilts his head at your question, slipping inside the room fully as he stands to his full height, <<if $height = "very tall">>squaring you up.<<elseif $height eq "tall>>standing above you<<else>>towering over you.<</if>> "I'm willing to take my chances," he murmurs, voice smooth. <<include "C1_41A_2">>

The woman's eyes seem to gleam the second your stare settles on her, and you see the //smallest// gleam of amusement in her eyes as they narrow, her pupils slits. Her lips part as she hisses at you, and your attention momentarily drops to her fangs that gleam in the dim light... Yeah. Probably best to not get hit by those. You lunge forward, hurling yourself at the woman. <<if $height eq "very tall">>She's sturdy, nearly as tall as you and a wall of muscle—but you're extra height and the suddenness of your attack give you enough of an advantage to knock her off-balance. Her claws sink in deep into your arms, tearing through flesh in an effort to keep balance as she goes toppling backwards, careening into the wall. A grunt escapes her at the force of the collision. The thin walls of the inn shake, and you hear a snarl escape her, animalistic and furious, a spray of saliva and the heat of her breath hot against the side of your face. You barely lean back to avoid her jaw snapping, those glistening fangs nearly embedding themselves into the weak softness of your flesh—<<elseif $height eq "tall">>She's sturdy, just as tall of you and a wall of muscle. She falls back a step, but manages to brace herself against you, her claws sinking in deep into your arms. They cut and tear through your flesh, and you suddenly find yourself locked in a tug-of-war as she twists your forearm, your hand going temporarily limp as the dagger falls from your grasp and clatters to the floor. You attempt to push the gorgon away, off-balanced, and she attempts to drag you closer, where her jaws snap at your face. She hisses, a spray of venom and spit showering upon your face as you stare down her mouth, amber venom dripping from her fangs and coating her tongue in a sheen—<<elseif $height eq "average height">>She's sturdy, taller than you and a wall of muscle. She falls back a step, but manages to brace herself easily, her claws sinking in deep into your arms. They cut and tear through your flesh, and you suddenly find yourself locked in a tug-of-war. You attempt to push the gorgon away, off-balanced, But she doesn't relent, claws digging deeper and deeper into your skin, pulling you closer and closer... She hisses, and a spray of venom and spit showers your face as you bare your teeth in your strain, staring down her open mouth, amber venom dripping from her fangs and coating her tongue. In a last-ditch attempt, you brace one of your hands directly against her face and ''shove''. Her hace is forced to the side as a result, teeth gnashing in an attempt to sink into your palm, and you take the fleeting opening it gives you to abruptly pull away, elbowing her arms off of you and slipping beneath them to side-step her entirely. You twist on your feet, landing yourself behind the gorgon, and kick your foot as hard as possible into the small of her back, sending her falling forward—<<else>>She towers over you, a wall of pure muscle, and instead of attacking her head-on, you use your own height to your advantage. You side-step her entirely, feinting an attack before dodging her counter, ducking beneath her arm and landing behind her. Before she can turn around to face you, you throw yourself onto her back, an arm wrapping around her. Your dagger presses to her neck, but before you can slice, ''cut'', the woman is grabbing hold of the dagger by the blade. Blood blossoms from her palm as her fingers wrap tight around the metallic, sharp edge... and without flinching, she wrestles your hand from her neck, and flings the knife from your hand, sending it clattering across the ground. She snarls as your grip around her neck tightens, her claws tearing and shredding at your forearms, clawing slowly but steadily through the leather braces you wear. You can feel the material being torn through second by second, and it's only a matter of time before she wears through them entirely to rip open the flesh that lays underneath instead. She stumbles backwards from the weight of you, and when she tries to slam you back into the wall behind her, you swing your weight to the side, forcing her to go careening off-course—<</if>> <center>[[A flash of green in your periphery.|C1_41B_A_A1]]</center>

Your eyes snap to look at the man. He grins immediately, pupils turning to slits as he rips out his daggers, his head tilting. There's an obvious invititation in his eyes. He wants this. This? It's personal, and you don't even know //why.// He waits for you to attack first, one foot planted. The second you do... It's chaos. You lunge forward. Vethna dives back as the woman lunges towards them. And the man? He's more than ready for you, blocking off your attack when you swing your sword for his head. You go in for a second attempt, but his daggers catch your blade, levying it quick. //Fuck.// you drop the sword before your arm gets twisted too far. These aren't amateurs. No. They're dangerous. Skilled. And you suddenly feel hyper aware of Vethna as you hear things clattering behind you, accompanied by a hissed laugh from the woman. "Don't you //dare// take your eyes off of me," the man snarls. He steps closer to you slowly. He's making a show of this. Taking his //sweet// fucking time. *[[You doubt he's taking this seriously. Try to go help Vethna.|C1_F1B_A_BA]] *[[You don't have time for this. Stay focused on him and end this.|C1_F1B_A_BB]]

<<if $height eq "very tall">>It's the man, and you barely have time to release the woman before he's lunging at you. He raises his dagger high above his head, aiming to slide across your chest, and you're forced to dodge backwards to avoid it. It sends you flying right into a bookshelf, novels and dictionaries toppling off the shelves and onto the ground, several nearly crashing right onto your head. The man's pupils are slits in his eyes, and there's a big, bright, hungry grin on his face. It's sadistic, amused, //excited//, and you nearly get caught in it before you're lifting your leg up to kick at his chest when he tries to descend upon you again. It's a weak counter, and it only buys you a moment of space before he's on you again in seconds, your arms grabbing at his, wrestling him away. His claws tear into your skin, the dagger in his grasp threatening to knick your arm, and he laughs as you both strain. "Having fun, Commander?" he taunts, grin widening.<<elseif $height eq "tall">>It's the man, and you can't even wrangle away from the woman's grasp before he's lunging at you. His arms wrap around your waist as he tackles you, sending you stumbling back several steps and right into a bookshelf. Novels and disctionaries topple off the shelves and onto the ground, several nearly crashing onto both of your skulls, and the man has to huddle against you to avoid being hit. You feel the coolness of his breath against your neck before you manage to grab a fistful of his hair and ''pry'' his jaws away from your neck, gnashing and dripping venom, and you use your free hand to land a hook right into the side of his face. You hear a crack that sends a nearly predatorial satisfaction through you, but it does nothing to keep the man from lunging at you a second time. The man's pupils are slits in his eyes, and there's a big, bright, hungry grin on his face. It's sadistic, amused, //excited//, a purpling bruise blossoming on his jaw. Your arms grab at his to wrestle him away, and his hands grasp at the front of your shirt, the edge of his blade dangerously close to your neck. "Having fun, Commander?" he taunts, grin widening.<<elseif $height eq "average height">>It's the man, and you barely get the chance to register his presence before he's lunging at you. His arms wrap around your waist as he tackles you, and you're helpless to do anything other than try to brace yourself. You're thrown to the floor, and the air is nearly knocked out of your lungs as the man lands on top of you, braced against his knees where he straddles you. He looms over you, his dark hair and the tokens woven into it falling over his shoulder as he lifts his dagger above his head high. You launch your hand up to catch his falling forearm. The force behind his attack is strong, and you grunt out from the effort of keeping his blade from crashing downwards and into your chest. You both strain against the other, and that gleam in the man's eyes, that //smile//, they just keep getting brighter and brighter as a laugh bubbles up from his chest. He leans in closer to you, close enough for you to feel the coldness of his breath creeping along your skin. "Having fun, Commander?" he coos. You just growl in response, one arm braced against his shoulder to keep those jaws of his from snapping around your neck, the other hand wrestling away the knife in his grip.<<else>>It's the man, and you barely get the chance to register his presence before he's lunging at you. His arms wrap around your waist as he tackles you, and you're helpless to do anything other than try to brace yourself. You're thrown to the floor, and the air is completely knocked out of your lungs as the man lands on top of you, braced against his knees where he straddles you. He looms over you, his dark hair and the tokens woven into it falling over his shoulder as he lifts his dagger above his head high. You launch your hand up to catch his falling forearm. The force behind it, however, is too much, and your eyes widen as he easily presses onwards in his attack, the knife cutting through the air, directly towards your— //Thunk.// You flinch away at the last second, the knife missing your neck by an inch. You feel the air blow from the swiftness of the blade, a stinging pain lingering on your flesh where you've just barely been nicked. A harsh huff of air leaves the man at having missed, but a part of you almost wonders if it was on purpose. You try to rise and get up, only to realize the collar of your shirt has been pinned to the ground, an amused lilt curling on the man's lips as he pulls out his other dagger in a swift movement, twirling it between his fingers. "Having fun, Commander?" he coos, tilting his head.<</if>> <center>[[Shadows flicker in the background.|C1_41B_A_A2]]</center>

The lighting in the room shifts, elongated shadows casting upon the ceiling above you. It takes you a moment to realize it's Vethna and the woman, and your eyes flicker past the man to look. The woman approaches Vethna, a blade clutched in her hand, her stance wide. Oddly enough, she has a placating hand stretched towards Vethna. Irregardless, Vethna picks up one of the candelabras, blowing the candles out before wielding it like a weapon as the melted candles fall onto the ground in a series of thuds. *[[Attack the woman.|C1_41B_A_A2_A]] *[[Stay focused on the man.|C1_41B_A_A2_B]]

<<if $height eq "very tall">><<set $jost_h to "stabbed">><<set $nikke_h to "head">>You can't leave Vethna to be cornered by themself. For all you know, the woman will just grab them and run off before you get a chance to do anything at all. You scowl, and without thinking, grab hold of the man to pull him closer to you at the last second. You use the momentum of the action to suddenly toss him back with all of your strength, sending him off of you //just// enough to try and squeeze past him, towards Vethna and the woman. You tighten your grip on your dagger, an in only a few strides you cross the space of the room, a callused hand outstretching to grab hold of the woman by the back of the neck. Your hand wraps around her scaled, cold skin, holding tight, and you yank her back and into your grasp before raising your dagger high above you. Things happen slow. You can hear the man's footsteps running up behind you, hear the woman's hiss intertwine with a yell. One of her arms brace against your chest to keep you away, her other hand flying upwards to grap your wrist as you try to embed your blade into her throat. Your teeth grit, a growl clawing out your throat. You feel the man behind you, about to pounce, and you duck with the woman still in your grasp, bracing for the inevtiable pain that will soon follow if the man manages to cut through your armor— The woman's grip on your wrist slips from the sweat on her palm, and it gives you just enough freedom to bury your blade beneath her collarbone. It's off the mark, but you take what you can get, pressing deeper as the knife grinds against bone and needles through flesh. She screams. You press harder. There's a glimmer of gold in your periphery. For a fraction of a second, you think Vethna's about to hit you, until they throw the candelabra just barely past your head, the air whooshing past you before you hear the //'thump'// of heavy metal hitting a skull, and a pained, furious hiss from behind you. *[[Focus on the woman.|C1_41B_A_A2_A_A]] *[[Toss the woman aside, focus on the man behind you.|C1_41B_A_A2_A_B]]<<elseif $height eq "tall">>You can't leave Vethna to be cornered by themself. For all you know, the woman will just grab them and run off before you get a chance to do anything at all. You scowl, and without thinking, grab hold of the man to pull him closer to you at the last second. You use the momentum of the action to suddenly toss him back with all of your strength, sending him off of you //just// enough to try and squeeze past him, towards Vethna and the woman. In only a few strides you cross the space of the room, grabbing hold of the woman by the shoulder and turning her to face you before you slam your balled fist into her face as hard as you can. She reels back from the force, but it doesn't knock her nearly half as off-balance as you'd hoped. She's quick to shake off the hit, dark teal blood dripping from her nose as a dark bruise forms on her face, a rattling hiss escaping her as she swipes her knife at your face. You stumble backwards right into the chest of the man, his hands gripping hold of both of your wrists, twisting them behind your back and holding you close against him. You struggle, but it's futile, the angle making every attempt to break free send a jolt of pain through your shoulders. The woman lifts her dagger above her head, aiming for your chest. And then Vethna's swinging the candelabara as hard as they can towards her head, and the man behind you shouts—"No!" The man releases you only to lunge for Vethna. And just like that, everything's switched. The man focuses on Vethna, easily catching the candelabra they swing in his hand. He grabs hold of it, wrestling it from their hands, and snarls something you can't hear that makes Vethna's entire face go white. "It's you and me now, huh?" Your eyes flicker to the woman. And then she lunges. *[[Focus on the woman, lest you risk your own skin.|C1_41B_A_A2_A_A2]] *[[You need to help Vethna, somehow, no matter what.|C1_41B_A_A2_A_B2]]<<elseif $height eq "average height">><<set $MC_h to "stabbed">><<set $nikke_h to "stabbed">><<set $jost_h to "head">>You can't leave Vethna to be cornered by themself. For all you know, the woman will just grab them and run off before you get a chance to do anything at all. You scowl, and wrestle the man's hand so it's aim, for one fraction of a second, is just off the mark... and on a hope of faith, you release his hand, letting the dagger in his grasp fly towards you—only to hit the ground right beside your neck with a //'thump'.// The man's expression crumples as he lets out a rageful sound, but you take the opening to shove him back with your arm, slashing your dagger at his face. He reels back to avoid it, nearly falling back and off of you, and you seize the advantage to try to squirm free from beneath him, flipping onto your stomach to try to push yourself to stand. You crawl a foot away before the man grabs hold of you by the leg, his claws ripping at your boot as he drags you closer towards him. It's a scramble. You flip onto your stomach to try to push yourself to stand, but the man's clawed hand grabs hold of you by your leg, dragging you towards him. You try to kick free, hitting his forearm with your foot. The action makes him grimace... and then his grip tightens as he retaliates. You see the metal of the knife gleam through the air—and then slam down, right into your calf. You want to scream. But you swallow it down, a wave of pain blossoming from your leg upwards as every muscle in you spasms. You hear, distantly, Vethna's voice call for you in distress, see the blurred outline of their figure try to rush for you only for the woman to tackle Vethna. They argue back-and-forth, words you can't hear... and then you hear a sickening //'crack'// as Vethna slams the candelabara they hold into the woman's head. The woman stumbles back from the impact, dazed, and you feel the dagger be ripped out of your leg at the same time. The man climbs over you, <<if $hair != "buzz-cut">>his hand grabbing a fistful of your hair to force your chin up.<<else>>his hand grabbing you by the jaw and forcing your chin up.<</if>> You feel the sharp sting of his blade press against your neck... but he doesn't cut. Vethna rushes towards you only to stumble to a halt at the sight of the blade against your neck, their eyes widened, face flushed as they breathe heavily. Their eyes go from the knife immediately to meet your gaze, desperately seeking some sort of reassurance that somehow, //somehow,// you can find a way out of this. <center>[[Continue.|C1_41B_A_A2_A_avgcon]]</center><<else>><<set $nikke_h to "arm">><<set $jost_h to "head">>You can't leave Vethna to be cornered by themself. For all you know, the woman will just grab them and run off before you get a chance to do anything at all. You scowl, and wrestle the man's hand so it's aim, for one fraction of a second, is just off the mark... and on a hope of faith, you release his hand, letting the dagger in his grasp fly towards you—only to hit the ground right beside your neck with a //'thump'.// The man's expression crumples as he lets out a rageful sound, but you take the opening to elbow his inner arm where he grabs the dagger and braces his weight. The action knocks him off balance as he's forced to let go to catch himself from toppling over, and you use the momentum to completely flip both of you over, leaving you straddling him. His eyes widen, and it's a rush to see who can grab hold of his dagger that's embedded in the floor first. //You win.// You grab hold of the unfamiliar hilt, ripping it free from the ground before making a slice for his face. His arm lefts to protect him, and the metal screeches as it drags across the metal and leather surface of his bracers. You don't waste time going in for a second attack. Instead, you jump to your feet, raising a foot above him menacingly. He lifts a hand to protect himself yet again, and you kick down as hard as you possibly can, pinning his arm to the ground as you dig your heel in ''hard'' on his inner elbow. He grovels beneath you in pain as veins bulge and his skin goes pale from the pressure beneath your boot, teeth grit together in pain as his head throws back against the floor— "$name!" Vethna's voice snaps you out of your bloodlust. Your head snaps towards them, eyes narrowing, and you leap into action. The woman hears your rapidly approaching footsteps as you rush across the room, and she turns at the last second before you pounce at her, dagger raised. She's ready this time, dodging your attack easily as she hisses, immediately launching in to swipe at your midriff. You fall back, watching as her knife slices the front of your armor, a metallic ting echoing in the room... And then Vethna's slamming the candelabra in their hand as hard as they can into the back of her head. It would kill anyone, if it weren't a //mythosi// who was currenlty trying to rip your throat out. The woman doesn't make a sound of pain, too dazed, and instead stands stunned before cringing in pain, dark teal blood coating the metal base of the makeshift weapon before Vethna drops it, repulsed by their own actions. Your eyes flicker to meet theirs, surprised, but they're quick to turn their attention elsewhere. Your attention is torn between them and the gorgons as they begin to pull out one of their daggers from where they're tucked beneath their dress. You watch as the woman tries to get ahold of herself as the man slowly rises off the floor as Vethna kneels down on the ground. They're both hurting, and the only thing worse than an angry beast is a wounded one. "What are you doing?" you mutter. They say nothing, and you instead watch as they practically drag their blade through the teal puddle of blood the woman's headwound has left on the ground. The blade practically drinks up the liquid, pooling in a gem in the center... and before you can even truly take in what you've witnessed, a bright glow eminates from the weapon. You feel their magic before you see it. Overwhelming, heady like incense, expanding and collapsing into itself in a fog of purple mist that consumes everything in the room, everything in your vision. You feel like you're falling, or flying, or maybe both, and then you're just... <center>[[Gone.|C1_F1_A]]</center><</if>>

You shake your head. Vethna will be fine. You have to have faith in them. And besides, if the woman //wanted// to hurt them, she would've done so already. ...right? Your gaze goes back to the man then, his words echoing in your mind. //Having fun yet?// He certainly seems to be. *[["Yeah. Time of my life," you drawl.|C1_41B_A_A2_BA]] *[["Suck my dick, asshole," you snap.|C1_41B_A_A2_BB]] *[["... are we about to kiss right now?"|C1_41B_A_A2_BC]] *[[Fuck banter. You're in a battle.|C1_41B_A_A2_BD]]

<<set $nikke_h2 to "shoulder_s">>You know Vethna's attack on the man won't keep him down, and with a low growl you rip your blade from the woman's chest and throw her to the ground, spinning on your heel in time to brace for the man's attack. He launches himself as you, and you act on instinct, one hand bracing against his chest, the other slamming your blade into his shoulder as you both collapse to the ground in a heap. The force of his attack knocks the air from your lungs, but you refuse to let up, using all of your might to keep the man at may as he //hisses// in your face. The man's the visage of race, his pupils such small slits that all you see is glowing green, an animalistic hunger in his gaze. Your blade sinks deep into his shoulder, tearing through his muscle. It does nothing to detour him from trying to push closer however, continuing to spear himself on your blade in his attempts to sink his teeth into you. You don't feel like your fighting something sentient anymore, and for some reason, it thrills you. You know how to do this. Know how to use the deepest, most primitive and vile parts of yourself to stay alive. But you don't need to. You see Vethna approaching from behind, pulling out a dagger that's strapped beneath their dress. You use everything in you to not even glance their way, determined to not give the man a chance to anticipate the attack, and you watch as Vethna's blade joins yours in the man's torso, cutting deep beneath his ribs. His entire body tenses in response, eyes widening as his snarl is cut short. He lets out a pained sound, unable to collapse into you or try to push back as he's impaled on both sides, and you wait for Vethna to rip their blade out before you kick the man off of you. Vethna offers you their hand to help pull you onto your feet, having to use all of their strength to do so as you stumble onto your feet. The smell of blood lingers heavy in the air as you look at the damage done to the room. Spilled melted candles cover the floor, teal gorgon blood smeared all over, and you watch as both twins attempt to get back up. And they are, slowly, for what it's worth. You wipe your mouth with the back of your back, your chest heaving as you reach down to collect your dagger off the floor, going to approach the man and just //end this.// But then you hear it. Thundering footsteps racing up the steps towards your room. //Villagers.// <center>[[Continue.|C1_41B_A_A2_A_B_2]]</center>

<<set $MC_h to "throat">><<set $Nikke_H2 to "rib">>You refuse to let the woman go, refuse to let your focus be torn anywhere else. You press harder and harder, attempting to drag your blade downwards, to ruin as much of her innards as you can with the brunt of your blade. The woman's teeth grit together into a stubborn snarl, your eyes glued to hers as she swallows down her screams. It's no problem. It's hardly the first time you've faced a stubborn foe, trying to conceal the agony you inflict upon them for the sake of //appearances.// It's not like it affects you, anyhow. It all ends up the same way regardless. Them dead, bleeding at your feet. "$name!" You hear Vethna's raw voice shout your name, but by the time you turn to look, the man's punching you right in the face. Pain shoots through you, your own teeth chomping down on your tongue as blood fills your mouth. Your mind goes blank as your body reels back in instinct, barely bracing against the blade that swipes at your face. A furious sound erupts from the man as he looks at you. His pupils are such small slits that all you see is //glowing green//, and before you can even attempt to regain your balance his jaw is unhinging. His fangs gleam, and not a second later you're being tackled into the wall behind you. His teeth sink //deep// into your neck. You feel the crunch of your flesh and veins being snapped by the force of his bite, feel the hot blood that rushes down your neck. His growl reverberates through your flesh, and you can feel his teeth go deeper, //deeper//, ready to rip your throat out. You push and push and //push// at his shoulders, feeling the heat of his venom seeping into you, burning and visceral in its pain. Your vision blurs and tunnels, your hands tangling in the man's hair to try and pry his jaw off of you as your eyes lock with Vethna's over his shoulder. The woman is still knelt on the floor in pain, and you watch as Vethna slips out a dagger that's strapped beneath their dress before angling it //just// right to stab the man right beneath his ribcage. You feel his body tense, though his jaws just sink deeper into you, like he'd rather be gutted alive while killing you than be forced to release you from his grasp. But somehow, //somehow// Vethna manages to carve enough out of him that he releases you for just a moment. And that's all you need to kick him off of you. Your eyes drop to Vethna's blade as they rip it from the man's side. The blade glows, the hilt filled with the blood from the man's wound as it absorbs the power from the man's //mythosi// blood. You feel their magic before you see it. Overwhelming, heady like incense, expanding and collapsing into itself in a fog of purple mist that consumes everything in the room, everything in your vision. Vethna's hand reaches out to grab your arm, and you feel like you're falling, or flying, or maybe both, and then you're just... <center>[[Gone.|C1_F1_A]]</center>

<<set $mc_h to "stabbed">>You hear the man speak from above you, that same guttural, hissing language from before. His grip on you tightens as he speaks, and the woman responds from where she braces her head in her hands. A large brunt-force wound sits on the side of her head, bleeding teal blood and bruised. Vethna certainly didn't hold back any. "Ya know, Mev—" //"Don't,"// Vethna hisses. Their voice is simultaneously stern and desperate, their jaw clenched as they stare at the man. There's a momentary pause, and you can feel the man's grip on you falter. Your eyes flicker to meet Vethna's... and somehow, they know. Know what you're thinking. The man laughs at Vethna's distress... his grip loosening a bit more. "What's wrong?" he asks. "$he <<mr $v "don't" "doesn't">> know?" He clicks his tongue, you feel him shake his head. "You should know better than to play games like that, now, shouldn't you?" "Don't hurt $him," Vethna murmurs. You're vaguely aware of where the woman behind them begins to regain her senses, wiping the blood from her temple. Your grip on your dagger, kept pinned to the ground, tightens. One opening. You just need one. "Head home, and I'll entertain leaving $him alive. For now, anyway," the man says with a laugh. He sounds amused, proud of himself, and his hand finally givens away //just// enough... <center>[[Escape.|C1_41B_A_A2_A_avgcon2]]</center>

You throw break your head free from his grasp, and then swing it back, smashing into his face and jaw. You take the brief dazed state he's in to elbow him hard right after, allowing you a gap wide enough to escape his clutches completely. Pain shoots through your leg, your muscles refusing to cooperate, refusing to let you stand, or kneel, or do //anything,// and you're vaguely aware of Vethna rushing towards you to try and help. You see the woman notice, chasing after Vethna, and what happens next happens in seconds. The man claws at your arm, trying to pull you back into his grasp. You slam your dagger straight into his shoulder to keep him at bay, a pained hiss escaping him as he continues to press onwards anyway, muscle being torn apart by your blade. Vethna narrowly misses the woman's outstretched hand to grab hold of them by the back of their gown, and then they're crashing into you, falling onto their knees at your legs. You see a glint of silver, the telltale gleam of their blade as they near the wound torn into your calf. You think they're about to cut you again, rip open into the wound, but instead they drag the metal through the blood that leaks from the large tear through your pants and flesh. You feel their magic before you see it. Overwhelming, heady like incense, expanding and collapsing into itself in a fog of purple mist that consumes everything in the room, everything in your vision. You feel like you're falling, or flying, or maybe both, and then you're just... <center>[[Gone.|C1_F1_A]]</center>

<<if $MC_h eq "stabbed">>You feel nauseous. Sick. Like your entire being is being broken down and put back together again. And then you're lying on the ground, somewhere in the forest. You suck in heaving, shaky breaths, biting back the urge to vomit, your hands clawing at the dirt beneath you. A groan escapes you before you roll onto your back. "$name... let me see." Vethna's voice comes out as an uncertain whisper when they kneel beside you. Their hands hover over you, panicked, before they swallow thickly, hands going to your leg. They angle it so they can see the wound, a grimace passing over their features. *[["This is the part you tell me it's not that bad," you tease.|C1_F1A_A]] *[["Fuckin' bastard," you curse, head falling back. He got the jump on you.|C1_F1A_B]] *[["Don't touch me," you snarl, going to crawl back. They used blood magic. With your blood.|C1_F1A_C]] *[["I'm fine," you protest, shooing them off.|C1_F1A_D]] *[[Stay quiet. Let them work.|C1_F1_A_E]]<<elseif $mc_h eq "transformed" or $mc_h2 eq "transformed">>''//Vethna//'' <<if $beast eq "demon">>The Commander's blood isn't hot like it should be. It's cold. Frigid. It seeps out from the wound in their side like ichor, dark and clotting despite freshly spilling from their body. Magic pulses from it in thick, heavy pulses, the stench of rot, of //plague// clinging to it. //Whispering voices, darkness, the crippling sensation of guilt.// $name's eyes had been black, crying dark tears, the very same thick, black liquid seeping from the corners of $his mouth. $His skin had gone ashen, veins bulging. A //monstrosity.// $name looked like the etchings of horrid beasts kept in the tombs back in Vygrand. Something larger than life, some twisted, mutialted remnant of the magic of the Old World. Whatever had been standing in front of Vethna in that moment was not the Commander. $name was looking right through them, //Right// through them. They could feel $him, clawing throguh their fears, their secrets, picking which thread to pull at. Vethna didn't have a choice. They //didn't.//<<elseif $beast eq "phoenix">>The Commander's blood isn't hot like it should be. It's //burning//, like molten lava seeping from the wound in their side. It's bright, glowing, searing through Vethna's flesh as they clench their teeth and swallow down the pain. The cold rain hits the blood, evaporating in a flash, steam surrounding them thick with the stench of //gore,// and Vethna's head spins trying to keep it out. //Glowing skin, hot, no ''burning.''// Vethna had felt as if their flesh was burning off just being near $name, even when half submerged in water and with the pouring rain. <<if $h_length eq "buzz-cut">>$His veins glowed orange beneath $his skin, thrumming to the energy of an internal fire Vethna could not see but //feel.//<<else>>Flames licked at the end of $his hair, eyes and veins glowing, thrumming to the energy of an internal fire Vethna could not see but //feel.//<</if>> $name's very presence alone was stifling, //suffocating.// Like bearing the full brunt of the sun's heat. $name was burning alive from the inside out. Vethna saw it, the smoke that bellowed from $his lips, the agony on $his features. $name wouldn't have //lived// if allowed to keep going. Vethna didn't have a choice. They //didn't.//<<elseif $beast eq "gorgon">>$name's blood had been thick and hot as it seeped from their side. It's a feeling more familiar to Vethna then they'd ever be willing to admit... and so was the thrum, the //burst// of magic that filled their blades as they drank up the Commander's life force. //Bloody, half-grown scales, gums torn and fangs grown crooked.// Venom had poured from the corners of $name's mouth, a deep amber in color, seeped in the stench of bitterness. $His pupils had gone to slits, skin bursting with blood-covered scales resembling thick scabs half-broken throguh flesh. It was horrific. It was //fascinating.// And it was //wrong.// $name was going to tear $himself apart. //Die.// $He was going to die if $he <<mr $v "were" "was">> allowed to keep going. Vethna didn't have a choice. //They didn't.//<<else>>$name's blood had been thick and hot as it seeped from their side. It's a feeling more familiar to Vethna then they'd ever be willing to admit... and so was the thrum, the //burst// of magic that filled their blades as they drank up the Commander's life force. //Slobber, torn flesh and ripped nails.// $name had looked //unhinged,// two seconds away from tearing apart the nearest person, friend or foe. Vethna had heard werewolves' transformations are seldom pleasing to the gaze, but that? It had been terrifying, //Wrong,// Bones threatening to burst throguh flesh, muscles cramping and twitching, unable or perhaps simply unwilling to stretch. $name was going to tear $himself apart. //Die.// $He was going to die if $he <<mr $v "were" "was">> allowed to keep going. Vethna didn't have a choice. //They didn't.//<</if>> <center>[[Continue.|C1_F1B_2]]</center><<elseif $MC_h2 eq "hand">>You feel nauseous. Sick. Like your entire being is being broken down and put back together again. And then you're lying on the ground, somewhere in the forest. You suck in heaving, shaky breaths, biting back the urge to vomit, your hands clawing at the dirt beneath you. A groan escapes you before you roll onto your back. You take several moments to catch your breath before lifting your injured hand up, staring at the hole in it. You grimace. You can see through it, see the way your tendons twitch as blood seeps out. "$name... let me see." Vethna's voice comes out as an uncertain whisper when they kneel beside you. They reach out, snatching your hand up in theirs. *[["This is the part you tell me it's not that bad," you tease.|C1_F1A_A_2]] *[["Fuckin' bastard," you curse, head falling back. He got the jump on you.|C1_F1A_B_2]] *[["Don't touch me," you snarl, going to crawl back. They used blood magic. With your blood.|C1_F1A_C2_2]] *[["I'm fine," you protest, shooing them off.|C1_F1A_D_2]] *[[Stay quiet. Let them work.|C1_F1_A_E_2]]<<elseif $mc_h eq "river">>You feel nauseous. Sick. Like your entire being is being broken down and put back together again. And then you're lying on the ground, somewhere in the forest. You suck in heaving, shaky breaths, biting back the urge to vomit, your hands clawing at the dirt beneath you. A groan escapes you before you roll onto your back. "Sorry," Vethna gasps out from beside you. They don't seem much better, clutching at their abdomen to fight back a roll of nausea, their eyes clenched shut and nose wrinkled. "I haven't... done that... in a long time." *[[Ignore them. You're too busy trying not to vomit.|C1_F1C_A]] *[["Or maybe you're just terrible at it," you drawl.|C1_F1C_B]] *[["No shit," you mutter.|C1_F1C_C]] *[["It's... fine." It's not, but what the hell are you gonna do about it?|C1_F1C_D]]<<else>>You feel nauseous. Sick. Like your entire being is being broken down and put back together again. And then you're lying on the ground, somewhere in the forest. You suck in heaving, shaky breaths, biting back the urge to vomit, your hands clawing at the dirt beneath you. A groan escapes you before you roll onto your back. "Sorry," Vethna gasps out from beside you. They don't seem much better, clutching at their abdomen to fight back a roll of nausea, their eyes clenched shut and nose wrinkled. "I haven't... done that... in a long time." *[[Ignore them. You're too busy trying not to vomit.|C1_F1D_A]] *[["Or maybe you're just terrible at it," you drawl.|C1_F1D_B]] *[["No shit," you mutter.|C1_F1D_C]] *[["It's... fine." It's not, but what the hell are you gonna do about it?|C1_F1D_D]]<</if>>

You let out a frustrated growl. You //know// it's a terrible idea to leave Vethna alone to their own defenses against the man, but what other choice do you have? You barely sidestep the woman in time, grabbing hold her hair to use her own momentum against her as you throw her forward, watching her stumble several steps before bracing herself against the wall with a hard //thump.// Your grip on your dagger tightens as you approach her, and she turns right as you lift your blade to descend upon her, her hand catching your wrist. You can feel the strain of her body as she keeps your hand at bay, her teeth gritting together as she snarls—and not even a moment later you hear something metallic clatter against the floor hard. You feel something hit your foot, not bothering to glance down, already knowing it's the candelabra Vethna and the stranger were wrestling between. //Shit.// The woman lets out a low, raggedy laugh, her eyes flickering behind you to whatever conflict is happening over your shoulder. Your anxiety rushes, your stomach sinking, and you swear to the gods you can feel your heart in your throat, a borderline roar escaping you as you press //harder//, determined to embed your knife in the woman's chest. Her grin widens into something feral, and you have the feeling even if you succeed in your goal, she'd still have that smile plastered on her face. "You goddamned //brat//!" you hear the man snarl, Vethna letting out a curse in Mavikras before you hear thuds and glass breaking. Your dread only grows, and with a sudden surge of anger you throw the woman to the floor somehow, kicking her //hard// in the stomach as she curls into a ball. <center>[[Continue.|C1_41B_A_A2_A_A2_2]]</center>

You deflect her attack. Block her blade with your own, using her own momentum against her before tripping her. She doesn't fall, though she does stumble—and you take the chance to rush towards Vethna. Their pinned against the desk in the room, their back forcibly bent at an awkward angle as the edge of the table digs into their spine. The man has both of their wrists in one hand, the other pressing against their mouth despite their attempts to bite at it as he growls words at them you can't hear. Vethna looks half-feral, and you don't think you've ever seen them so //angry// before, nonetheless thought them capabable of behaving so unhinged. You're impressed, almost, until you see the red welt on their face from being struck. You don't think. You just do. You lunge at the man, grap his forearm to pry off Vethna and shove him back. He staggers before he turns to face you, hissing, and you're suddenly painfully aware of the fact both twins are focused on you now. They stand on opposite sides of you, and you're left straining to see them in your periphery. You can hear Vethna gasping for breath behind you. The woman attacks first. The man immediately after. She goes to punch, but you dodge... only for the man to grab both of your forearms, ripping them behind you, keeping them pinned. It's too harsh of an angle. Your shoulders ache, and before you can even attempt to break free the woman punches you again, in the face. And again. And again, and again, and //again.// Your nose bleeds and your vision spins, the man holding you still as you feel the woman's knuckles collide with your face. You feel your skin burst from one particularly hard blow— <center>[[Continue.|C1_41B_A_A2_A_B2_2]]</center>

<<notify 5s>><<set $mc_h to "perfect">>You won the fight again the gorgon twins.<</notify>>You clench your jaw as you look at the door, vaguely aware of Vethna grabbing at your arm. "$name," they breathe. "We need to go." You look at them, eyes flittering over their face. They're right. You know they're right. The gorgons are coming to and you'll have an angry mob to deal with if you don't get out of here. "Right," you breathe. The adrenaline of the fight still rushes through your veins as you kick the man back to the ground when he attempts to get to his knees, Vethna watching you as you rush to look out the window of the room. The streets are completely flooded, but it's not like you have much of a choice. "Come on," you breathe. "We go out the window. They're not crazy enough to follow us out there." "What?" Vethna snips, brows furrowing. Their lips part to argue before they shake their head, holding up their dagger, their hand trembling slightly. "This," they breathe. "We use this." Your brows furrow, but you don't get the chance to ask before Vethna's grabbing your arm tight. You feel their magic before you see it. Overwhelming, heady like incense, expanding and collapsing into itself in a fog of purple mist that consumes everything in the room, everything in your vision. You feel like you're falling, or flying, or maybe both, and then you're just... <center>[[Gone.|C1_F1_A]]</center>

<<set $nikke_h2 to "head">>The woman's arms wrap around her torso as you turn to look at the scene behind you. Vethna's pinned against the desk in the room, their back forcibly bent at an awkward angle as the edge of the table digs into their spine. The man has both of their wrists in one hand, the other pressing against their mouth despite their attempts to bite at it as he growls words at them you can't hear. Vethna looks half-feral, and you don't think you've ever seen them so //angry// before, nonetheless thought them capabable of behaving so unhinged. You're impressed, almost, until you see the red welt on their face from being struck. You suck in heavy breaths as you cross the space of the room. The man senses you before you manage to reach him, his glowing eyes flickering at you before he curses, throwing Vethna to the side. The force sends them sprawling to the ground as the man catches the swipe you make with your blade. You see the annoyance in his gaze. Clearly, this isn't going to his liking. You can make it worse though, you think, and not a moment later you're kicking him in the groin. //Hard.// He snarls immediately, his grip faltering as he stumbles back a step before Vethna kicks his own foot out from under him, forcing him to fall, his head hitting the dresser behind him. He's not out for the count, though he's clearly too stunned to get back to his feet after the successive hits to his now bloodied head, his eyes glazed-over. Vethna looks at him, their chest huffing with heavy breaths. Their make-up is smudged, their hands coated in blood, shattered glass embedded into their palms from the fall. You frown before reaching down to grab their arm and pull them to their feet, steadying them when their knees grow wobbly. "We need to leave," you state simply. You can hear the villagers footsteps coming up the steps, the raucousness of your fight not going unnoticed. They hate you enough as is, but if they walk in on //this,// you won't be surpised if they drive you out with pitck forks. Vethna doesn't protest, steadying themself as you go to look out the window of the room. The streets are completely flooded, but it's not like you have much of a choice. "Come on," you breathe. "We go out the window. They're not crazy enough to follow us out there." "What?" Vethna snips, brows furrowing. Their lips part to argue before they shake their head. You watch them fumble to reach for a dagger beneath the skirt of their dress, your frown deepening as precious time ticks, ticks, //ticks// away— And then they're dipping the edge in the growing puddle of teal blood beneath the man's head. The blood sucks it up as if hungry, your eyes widening, and you're not even given the chance to properly react before Vethna's reaching out, grabbing your arm. You feel their magic before you see it. Overwhelming, heady like incense, expanding and collapsing into itself in a fog of purple mist that consumes everything in the room, everything in your vision. You feel like you're falling, or flying, or maybe both, and then you're just... <center>[[Gone.|C1_F1_A]]</center>

"Well that's just a shame," you drawl, the woman's brows knitting togther in response, "considering you were the one I was wanting to get closer to." The man barks out a laugh, the woman immediatley scowling in response, though you can't tell if it's you or her brother than she's more pissed at. You can feel Vethna glaring a hole through your back, and you'd look back in amusement if this wasn't quite literally a life-or-death situation. Some would say that's the //worst// time to make shameless quips. You, however, would forever argue it's the best. Regardlessm you're not exactly //surprised// when the woman snarls, anger in her gaze, clearly offended at being made the butt of everyone's amusement before lunging at you. She lunges, ripping out the daggers at her hips with ease. She catches your sword between her blades, levering your sword to the side as your wrist screams in pain from the awkward angle. Your teeth gnash together as you release the blade, letting your sword go flying before you pull out your own dagger. Fine. Looks like these two actually know what they're doing then. This is a balancing game. Keep them away from Vethna, don't let another get the upper hand, and //end this.// *[[Attack the woman.|C1_41B_A_A]] *[[Attack the man.|C1_41B_A_B]]

You grin, basking in the twin's annoyed looks before you let out a laugh for show. "That's cute," you drawl. "Thinking you can boss me around." The man whistles in response, the woman scowling at you. "Talk about egotistical," the man purrs, stepping closer. You're all too aware of the way they're flanking you, closing in. No one tells you what to do. No one has the //right// to. You're the goddamned //$title//, and you have no problem reminding the world //just// what you're capable of. The woman attacks first. You're ready for her. At least, you think you are. She lunges, ripping out the daggers at her hips with ease. She catches your sword between her blades, levering your sword to the side as your wrist screams in pain from the awkward angle. Your teeth gnash together as you release the blade, letting your sword go flying before you pull out your own dagger. Fine. Looks like these two actually know what they're doing then. This is a balancing game. Keep them away from Vethna, don't let another get the upper hand, and //end this.// *[[Attack the woman.|C1_41B_A_A]] *[[Attack the man.|C1_41B_A_B]]

You raise a brow at her, taking the chance to drink in her features to commit to memory. Who's she to be bossing //you// around. But then it hits you. "Me?" you repeat. The confusion cuts through your condescending amusement, and it must show, since the twins exchange a look. They're here for you. Not Vethna. Immediately, your thoughts race. They're not magic-hunters then, but if not that, then what? Bounty hunters? "Don't act so modest, Commander," the woman says. Her eyes twinkle with the same gleam as her brother's, and you swallow thick as she tilts her ehad. "I'm sure I don't have to be the one to tell you how infamous you are." You're ready for when she goes to attack. Or, you think you are. She lunges, ripping out the daggers at her hips with ease. She catches your sword between her blades, levering your sword to the side as your wrist screams in pain from the awkward angle. Your teeth gnash together as you release the blade, letting your sword go flying before you pull out your own dagger. Fine. Looks like these two actually know what they're doing then. This is a balancing game. Keep them away from Vethna, don't let another get the upper hand, and //end this.// *[[Attack the woman.|C1_41B_A_A]] *[[Attack the man.|C1_41B_A_B]]

<<set $aggression ++>>"I owe you nothing," you snap. The stranger doesn't look too surprised by the response. They suck on their teeth before looking away from you, their gaze focusing on the flickering flames of the fire. "Vethna," they state. "My name is Vethna." You blink. You thought they'd have put up more fight, based on their arrogance. But they seem content enough to acquiesce. If anything, they seem to revel in throwing you off, peeking at you from the corner of their eyes, self-pleased. You glower at them, shifting to sit up further. They don't look like they have any intention on harming you, and you reluctantly lower your arm to lean forward, forearms resting on your legs. <<include "C1_8C_2">>

<<set $genuine ++>>Your lips pull into a frown at their wording. You //owe// them. You don't like owing anyone anything, and especially not here. But they have a point. They did save your life. Now it's just a question of //why.// But you're willing to play nice. For now. "Thank you," you say. They pause for a moment, as if not actually expecting you to acquiesce. Their brows raise a bit too much in their surprise before they're looking away, swallowing thick. //Huh.// Now it's //their// turn to hesitate, almost seeming unsure as they murmur out a "you're welcome." You stare at them expectantly then, fingers drumming over the hilt of your knife as it sits on your lap. Their gaze is focused on the ground, but from the sharpness of their posture you know they're hyperaware of your every movement. "Vethna," they say. "My name is Vethna." Their gaze slowly slides to meet yours once again, as if they've properly recomposed themself now. <<include "C1_8C_2">>

<<set $sarcasm ++>><<set $vethna ++>>"Thank you," you rush. "Now who the fuck are you?" You lift your blade higher, eyes narrowing as you tilt your head. The corner of their lips quirk up in response, a gleam of amusement in their eyes. "Vethna," they say. They copy your movements, head tilting, their long hair falling over their shoulder as they do. They seem to enjoy it. Antagonizing you. Toying with you like a cat. That's fine. You'll just cut through the bullshit. You always do. <<include "C1_8C_2">>

<<set $stoic ++>>You don't even bother to deign them with a response. You're not here to go back-and-forth in idle word games. You want their name. Who they are. Why the hell they decided to save you. You know it wasn't out of the sheer goodness of their heart, and as far as you're concerned, you could still be in danger. Your eyes narrow, and the silence between you stretches on, filled only by cicada song and the crackling of the fire. They seem just as content to weather the silence as you are, their eyes glued to yours. It goes on. And on. //And on.// Until finally they scowl and look away. Clearly it's stopped being fun for them. "Vethna," they say finally, almost sounding exasperated. "My name is Vethna." They roll their eyes a little, wetting their lips as they look at you. <<include "C1_8C_2">>

"You're a magic-user," you state. "How very astute," they drawl, raising a brow at you. "I praise you for your keen eye and attention to detail." You ignore the quip to focus on their clothing. Vygrandian too, if their clothing is anything to go by. It matches the man in the woods. But theirs lacks the distinctive piece of cloth around their waist that might tell you where from within Vygrand they might hail from. Normally you'd just chalk them up to being unimportant. Small. But nothing about their demeanor matches that. "why'd you help me?" you ask. Help's already rare enough. But you can't fathom why there's a trio of magic-users in the Plaithian wildlands, nonetheless why they all seem so turned against one another. //Sure,// Vygrand is a back-stabbing, powerhungry, good for nothing land. But the people who live there aren't foolish. They wouldn't wander into northern territory to squabble for petty reasons. These people want something. And all of them want to get to it first. <center>[[Continue.|C1_8C_3]]</center>

"I need you," Vethna says after a moment, pressing their lips together as if it pains them to even admit it. You're about to press back. Need //you?// For what? The only space you've carved out for yourself is as a wandering mercenary, and it's not like you left a sparkling impression nearly being axed by a little conniving magic-user in a pretty dress. You take a moment to drink in the Vethna's features, trying to get a read on them in the light of the fire. They're wealthy, a noble. That much is obvious in the deep, black v-neck gown they wear, the countless rings that cover their fingers. Their skin is bronze, caramel-colored hair only a few shades darker spilling over their shoulders in wavy strands. "Look," they press, leaning forward so the firelight reflects in their gaze, "who I am doesn't matter. What matters is //I// know who you are, and I need—" "You need what?" you interrupt. "A washed up mercenary?" A pause. What they say next has you scowling. Your name, your //real// name, comes flowing past their lips. "No," they state, voice firm. "I need... * [['"Elaine..."'|C1_10][$name to "Elaine"]] * [['"Tobias..."'|C1_10][$name to "Tobias"]] * [['"Juniper..."'|C1_10][$name to "Juniper"]] * [[My name's none of these.|C1_9.1]]

It's not so terrible. You've missed the excitement of your glory days a little bit, and while tonight was a far cry from the epic battles you used to partake in, at least you got a taste of it. Sorcerers, vygranders, petty infighting. The sheer violent pettiness of it all reminds you of home. <<include "C1_T">>

You're exhausted. You're tired of this kind of life. The fighting, the pettiness of it all, how quick everyone is to turn to violence. It used to be your life-blood. The thing that woke you up everyday, the promise of glory and war. But now you've seen the other side of it all. Backalley scraps where the youth are killed over blood feuds, beggars killed over stealing a few pieces of copper. Ain't none of it worth it, and you're eager to be //done.// Soon enough, you'll have enough gold to settle somewhere quiet, maybe near the coast. You'll work somewhere simple, maybe as a guard for a petty lordling who never needs to make any use of you. You'll spend your days with meals provided for you, a bed for free, and in //peace.// But until then... //Ugh.// You don't want to think about it. <center>[[Continue.|C1_T]]</center>

Your mind isn't even capable of focusing on anything beyond the immediate. What are you going to drink? Will there be a seat for you? You're not above chugging several ales before crawling your way to your bunk, if not. You've done less savory things before. <<include "C1_T">>

The walk to the tavern feels longer. By the time you reach it, your feet hurt and your knees ache—and the tavern itself seems to reflect your plight. It's quiet except for a few people tucked away in corners, eating cheap stew bordering on slop, and you seat yourself amidst them, beneath the stairs, hood drawn over your head. You just want to //forget// tonight, and the barwench seems to realize as much since she's already dropping you a drink before you've asked, taking the silver you slide her. Maybe that's the worst part of moving town-to-town. Leaving right when they begin to get your orders right. The place is so small there's not even a bard to entertain, but you don't mind much. The quiet murmurings are enough to keep you occupied. Distantly, you think you should check on the girl, see her mother, collect your payment, but you figure you'd just as well get it in the morning. You don't have it in you to play noble hero right now— "I was wondering where you'd went." A figure drops into the seat beside you, blonde haired, dirtied. //Her.// The woman from the woods. "My ma said to see you, give her thanks. But I, uhm. I wanted to thank you, too. For saving me." *[[Say nothing. Drink.|C1_TA]] *[[Force a smile. "It was nothing."|C1_TB]] *[[Smile. "I just do what anyone else would. Try to help people."|C2_TC]] *[['"Look, I appreciate it, but I was hoping to get some shut-eye in a second here..."'|C1_TD]] *[["Not interested." Wave her away.|C1_TE]]

You stay quiet, instead focusing on your drink. Sure, you get it, she's giving her thanks. But you didn't invite her here and you see little reason to entertain her. The girl wets her lips before biting at them, fingers drumming on the table as she eyes you. She's quiet for a long moment, as if hoping you'll respond before she clears her throat. Her hands rummage in her pockets for something before she manages to pull out a few silvers, going to press them into your hand. "It isn't much, but... it's the most I can give, considering what you did for me." Your swallow down your ale before your eyes flicker down to look at the coins, your thumb rubbing over the worn down metal. "But, if you want, maybe tomorrow, we'd love to have you for dinner," she says, offering a weak smile. "My name's Lnyla." You glance at her from the corner of your eye. She has this sweet little hopeful look on her face, her cheek still smudged with some dirt. Your eyes linger on her for a moment. She doens't have a single cut on her, though her dress has dried blood all along it. You could've //sworn// she was hurt... or at least sworn she //would// be. *[[Look away. Maybe she'll get the hint to just leave you alone.|C1_T2A]] *[['"That's kind, but I don't intend to stick around for that long."'|C1_T2B]] *[[... well, who are you to refuse a free warm meal? "Sounds fair to me."|C1_T2C]]

Your annoyance fades at her words, your bristled demanor quelling. It's hard to be wound up when you're faced with the actual consequence of your actions... and in this case, it's a woman, safe from harm. "I just do what anyone would," you say. "Try to help people." The woman offers a soft smile at that, though she shakes her head. "That's not true," she says. "A lot of people wouldn't have gone so far out of their way for a stranger. Would've been too scared to. Or just flat out not capable." Her eyes linger on you before she looks away, brows furrowing a little. "I don't know what... what would've happened if you weren't around." Her voice is soft, shaky. You think you see her face go a bit pale in the flickering lights of the tavern, and you can't help but feel some level of empathy for her. You've been in her shoes before, countless times. Wondering how things would've gone if you had just done something different. //Better.// "Don't worry about things like that," you mutter, your thumb running along a splintered edge of the cup you hold. "Nothing good ever comes from that line of thinking." She sighs, running a hand along her hair. "I know you're right. It's just... hard to not think about." You hum in agreement, your eyes focused on her form. She's still dirtied and a bit bloodied from the woods, but you can't see any obvious wounds on her. Your eyes narrow a bit at that. There was so much dried blood on her skirts that there has to be //something—// "Before I forget," the woman blurts. One of her hands grips your forearm, snapping you out of your observation as one of her hands pats at her dress. She pulls out a few silver coins then, going to press them into your hand. "Here," she says, offering a weak smile. "It's not much, but... it's all we can offer. As thanks." You look down at the coins, feeling the worn down metal. Your lips press together, but before you can get a word out, she's still going. "But, if you want," she says, "maybe tomorrow, we'd love to have you for dinner. Pay you back proper." She drums her fingers on the table. "My name's Lnyla." A strange olive-branch, though it's not one you're entirely unused to having. People feel like they know you more than you do when you help them. //Comfortable.// *[['"That's kind, but I don't intend to stick around for that long."'|C1_T2B]] *[[... well, who are you to refuse a free warm meal? "Sounds fair to me."|C1_T2C]]

You force a smile, though it's strained. Your eyes burn from exhaustion, and all you want is to have a tingle from the ale before falling asleep, face down on your pillow. "Look," you mumble, "I appreciate it, but I was hoping to get some shut-eye in a second here..." The woman's brows raise, but's she quickly lifting her hands. //Insisting. // "Oh, I'll be quick then," she says, placating. "I just... I don't know what I would've done if you weren't here." A nervous, wry laugh escapes her as she wrings her hands together, swallowing thickly and briefly looking off to the side. She's still dirtied and a bit bloodied from the woods, but you can't see any obvious wounds on her. Your eyes narrow a bit at that. There was so much dried blood on her skirts that there has to be //something—// "I wanted to, uhm, give you this," she says. One of her hands grips your forearm, snapping you out of your observation as one of her hands pats at her dress. She pulls out a few silver coins then, going to press them into your hand. "It's not much, but... it's all we can offer. As thanks." You look down at the coins, feeling the worn down metal. Your lips press together, but before you can get a word out, she's still going. "But, if you want," she says, "maybe tomorrow, we'd love to have you for dinner. Pay you back proper." She drums her fingers on the table. "My name's Lnyla." A strange olive-branch, though it's not one you're entirely unused to having. People feel like they know you more than you do when you help them. //Comfortable.// *[['"That's kind, but I don't intend to stick around for that long."'|C1_T2B]] *[[... well, who are you to refuse a free warm meal? "Sounds fair to me."|C1_T2C]]

"Not interested," you mutter, waving the woman away. She blinks, all doe-eyed and confused. But you don't have it in you to play //nice// with some random you'll never see again. No, right now you intend to get buzzed, and then sleep. Her jaw hands open slack. You ignore her, settling in your seat and hunching over the table, rubbing at your temple to try and stave away the headache that threatens to form. Your body feels achey and sore, and yet all you can fucking //focus// on is the way that woman's looking at you, making your skin crawl. "What?" you drawl. It's an admittance of defeat. You're terrified she'll just stay standing there, stupid and frozen like a deer unless she gets out what she meant to say. "I, uhm..." she snaps out of her daze, though she must've forgotten her spiel since she's wringing her hand stogether, swallowing thickly and looking anywhere but at you. Your head tilts, brows raising as you scan her head-to-toe. She's still dirtied and a bit bloodied from the woods, but you can't see any obvious wounds on her. Your eyes narrow a bit at that. There was so much dried blood on her skirts that there has to be //something—// "I wanted to, uhm, give you this," she blurts. One of her hands grips your forearm, snapping you out of your observation as one of her hands pats at her dress. She pulls out a few silver coins then, going to press them into your hand. "It's not much, but... it's all we can offer. As thanks." You look down at the coins, feeling the worn down metal. Your lips press together, but before you can get a word out, she's still going. "I just wanted to offer you some dinner, tomorrow," she says. "My mother's insisted. As thanks. To pay you back proper," she clarifies, glancing at your meager payment. "My name's Lnyla." A strange olive-branch, though it's not one you're entirely unused to having. People feel like they know you more than you do when you help them. //Comfortable.// *[[Look away. Maybe she'll get the hint to just leave you alone.|C1_T2A]] *[['"That's kind, but I don't intend to stick around for that long."'|C1_T2B]] *[[... well, who are you to refuse a free warm meal? "Sounds fair to me."|C1_T2C]]

//Here we go.// You straighten up, forcing a smile to your lips as you look at her. She perks up a little. "It was nothing," you say, swallowing down the ale. That's a lie. It //was// something, if not only for the fact a Vygrander was involved. You had the sickening feeling whatever happened in those woods wasn't over, and seeing that hopeful look in her eyes just makes it worsen. "That's not true," the woman argues. "No one else here would've done what you did. If you weren't here, I..." She trails off, her face going a bit pale before she shakes her head. "I don't know what would've happened." Your gaze softens a little as you look at her, chewing at your cheek. "Don't worry about things like that," you mutter, your thumb running along a splintered edge of the cup you hold. You've been in her shoes before, running through the countless what-ifs. Nothing good ever comes from it. "You're right," she sighs, running a hand through her hair. She's still dirtied and a bit bloodied from the woods, but you can't see any obvious wounds on her. Your eyes narrow a bit at that. There was so much dried blood on her skirts that there has to be //something—// "Before I forget," the woman blurts. One of her hands grips your forearm, snapping you out of your observation as one of her hands pats at her dress. She pulls out a few silver coins then, going to press them into your hand. "Here," she says, offering a weak smile. "It's not much, but... it's all we can offer. As thanks." You look down at the coins, feeling the worn down metal. Your lips press together, but before you can get a word out, she's still going. "But, if you want," she says, "maybe tomorrow, we'd love to have you for dinner. Pay you back proper." She drums her fingers on the table. "My name's Lnyla." A strange olive-branch, though it's not one you're entirely unused to having. People feel like they know you more than you do when you help them. //Comfortable.// *[['"That's kind, but I don't intend to stick around for that long."'|C1_T2B]] *[[... well, who are you to refuse a free warm meal? "Sounds fair to me."|C1_T2C]]

You say nothing. Alas, it seems the girl is going to hold onto her hope that you'll break, those wide, doe-like eyes continuing to look at you. One second passes. Then three. Then— You slowly turn your head to look at her. She offers you a small smile. Most people would be so unsettled they'd be gone by now. And if not, your glare would've been enough to get them scurrying. But her? She just keeps //staring.// In fact, you're the one who feels off now. Like there's something wrong. Your eyes narrow, and she swallows thick, her throat bobbing before she drums her fingers on the table. "I just... want to thank you, is all. Repay you. Please?" she says. Her hand moves a bit closer to yours on the table. You eye it warily. Of all the people in this town, why did the one you save have to be the only nice one? You sigh. "Look kid, I—" Your words trail off when you realize Lnyla isn't even looking at you anymore. <center>[[She's looking at something behind you.|C1_T3]]</center>

"That's kind, but I don't intend to stick around that long," you say, trying to offer an appeasing look before taking a long drink of your ale, as if she'll get the hint to leave you around. "What? But it would only be tomorrow night," she protests. "And I intend to leave tomorrow //morning.// Like I said. No time." She sighs softly, shoulders slouching as she sinks in her seat a bit. She reminds you of a petulant child a bit, lips pouting. It's almost comical, her every act a little too exaggerated. She goes quiet though. That in itself is a bit of a blessing as you try to relax. If you didn't need the money so bad, you'd be self-isolated in the woods. Alas. Here you are, praying to the dead gods to not be recognized or suffer yet another uninvited social call. "Look, do you need something?" you ask the girl. You try to keep your voice firm yet gentle, though when you turn to look at Lnyla, you realize she's not even looking //at// you anymore. <center>[[She's looking at something behind you.|C1_T3]]</center>

You blink. A warm meal? Company? The chance to pretend to be normal and recieve some gods damned //praise// for all your efforts for once? "Sounds fair to me," you say, taking another sip of your ale. The girl perks up at that, a smile spreading on her lips. She excitedly reaches over to grip your arm and squeeze it. "Perfect! Thank you. My mother will be so glad..." <<if $man eq "man">>Her hand stays on your arm, squeezing softly. Her touch lingers, however, and it's enough for you to slowly look at her. Oh? //Oh.// You know that look in her eyes. Imploring, wanting, a little //too// hopeful. Your throat bobs as you go to part your lips to speak... but abruptly her hand falls away from you, eyes going to something behind your head. <center>[[Continue..|C1_T3]]</center><<else>>She lets go of you then, going to rest her chin on her hands. Seems like she intends to stay //right// where she is for now, getting cozy as her wide eyes flicker over your face. "So," she begins. "Are you an adventurer or something?" //Hah.// Adventurer. Who in the hells is an adventurer these days? The realm's been explored. The Old World's fallen. The magic is fading. "Merc," you say simply, looking at her. She blinks at that. You're ready to see the reaction you've seen countless times over with girls like her. The mysterious fantasy that surrounds you disappearing as they look at you, uttering out questions like if you've killed people before. Her eyes widen. Her face pales. But she's not looking at you. <center>[[She's looking at something behind you.|C1_T3]]</center><</if>>

She's still as stone as her eyes focus behind your head, eyes hardening. You go to follow her gaze, to see a person has entered the tavern. The stranger hasn't even so much as glanced in your direction however before the woman's stumbling to rise, nearly knocking her chair over in the process. Your brows furrow, and you stand along with her. But before you can so much as utter out a word to her— "I have to go," the woman stammers. Her hand lifts at you, as if telling you to stay put. You don't know what has her so on edge. Nothing here seems a threat, and even as you watch the hooded figure who stepped into the tavern, they seem unimportant. At least, until their eyes land on you. <center>[[Continue.|C1_T4]]</center>

Their eyes glow from beneath their hood, a mix of muted green and blue, and you feel your stomach plummet. //Fucking hells.// Just when you thought you could rest. You go to turn to Lnyla, but the woman's already gone, as if having disappeared. You rear back, trying to catch sight of her dirtied skirts, but by the time you do a full circle the hooded figure is standing right before you. You can't see their face completely beneath their hood. In fact, even their glowing eyes are hidden now, only revealing a sharp nose and red-painted, thick lips. Your eyes rove over them, and the most you can read of are the countless golden rings upon their fingers, their nails long and sharp, painted a deep green. "You're a mercenary, are you not?" the person asks. Their voice is smooth, low, the way they draw out their words and roll their 'r's making you question the accent. *[['"Is there a reason you happened to send my companion fleeing?"'|C1_T4A]] *[['"I\'m leaving soon. I\'m not taking work."'|C1_T4B]] *[['"Depends who\'s asking."'|C1_T4C]] *[[They have to be rich based on those rings... "Yes."|C1_T4D]]

Your lips press together before you warily cast a glance around the mostly empty tavern. It's not like there's hiding places here. "Depends," you state. "Is there a reason you happened to send my companion fleeing?" The person tilts their head at the question, and you watch as their slender hands reach up to pull down the hood, revealing their face entirely. Glowing eyes, golden eyeliner, skin the color of bronze and hair of caramel. Piece by piece it clicks—the jewelry, the make up, the sliver of clothing you catch. //Another fucking Vygrander.// Another sorcerer. Your hand goes to your dagger, and the person's gaze follows, their brows knitting together. They're pretty, but in the kind of way that nearly unsettles you. "What companion?" the person murmurs. Their eyes meet yours, and they don't seem much unsettled by the knife at your side. "The one—" a frustrated growl escapes you. You suppose it's possible that they really didn't see Lnyla, but you would trust a Vygrander as far as you could throw a chimera. Besides, what are the chances of there being //two// Vygranders in the same small town for separate reasons? "I'm not here to cause trouble," the person says. They move to sit down, watching you carefully. Their gaze is surpisingly innocent, wide and observing... and you reluctantly copy the movement, people's gazes falling away from you both as you settle. "My name is Vethna. And I happen to be in need of a guard, for the foreseeable future." You blink. "A guard?" <center>[[Continue.|C1_T5]]</center>

You shake your head, lifting a hand up to silence them. "I'm leaving soon. I'm not taking work." You go back to your ale as the other figure stares at you, their half-parted lips slowly closing. They don't move. Just stay there, their softy glowing eyes flickering over your face before they focus on the table instead, their fingers softly tapping on the wood. Slowly, their slender hands reach up to pull down the hood, revealing their face entirely. Glowing eyes, golden eyeliner, skin the color of bronze and hair of caramel. Piece by piece it clicks—the jewelry, the make up, the sliver of clothing you catch. //Another fucking Vygrander.// Another sorcerer. Your hand goes to your dagger, and the person's gaze follows. They don't seem particulalry unsettled. "My job doesn't rely on you staying in this town," they say, moving to sit beside you. Their eyes meet yours slowly, and you can just //feel// the way they're trying to get a read on you. Picking you apart, analyzing... "My name is Vethna," they say when you don't respond. "I happen to be in need of a guard, for the forseeable future." You blink. "A guard...?" <center>[[Continue.|C1_T5]]</center>

You lean back in your seat, taking a long drink of your ale before setting it down, swallowing thick as it burns the back of your throat. Your eyes are glued to theirs in some sort of stand-off, a game of who cares less. "Depends who's asking," you state, tilting your head. You scrutinize them, drinking in what you can from their covered figure. They don't shy away from it. Instead, their hands slowly reach up to pull down the hood, revealing their face entirely. Glowing eyes, golden eyeliner, skin the color of bronze and hair of caramel. Piece by piece it clicks—the jewelry, the make up, the sliver of clothing you catch. //Another fucking Vygrander.// Another sorcerer. Your hand goes to your dagger, and the person's gaze follows. They don't seem particulalry unsettled. "I'm not here to cause trouble," they reassure. They move to sit down, watching you carefully. Their gaze is surpisingly innocent, wide and observing... and you reluctantly copy the movement, people's gazes falling away from you both as you settle. "My name is Vethna. And I happen to be in need of a guard, for the foreseeable future." You blink. "A guard?" <center>[[Continue.|C1_T5]]</center>

The wealthy they so casually wear upon their fingers tells you then and there that their pockets are deep. And //you// just so happen to be in need of wealth. "Yes," you say. Your eyes are glued to them as their slender hands reach up to pull down their hood, revealing their face entirely. Glowing eyes, golden eyeliner, skin the color of bronze and hair of caramel. Piece by piece it clicks—the jewelry, the make up, the sliver of clothing you catch. //Another fucking Vygrander.// Another sorcerer. ... but gold is gold, no? "I'm not here to cause trouble," they reassure. They move to sit down, watching you carefully. Their gaze is surpisingly innocent, wide and observing... and you reluctantly copy the movement, people's gazes falling away from you both as you settle. "My name is Vethna. And I happen to be in need of a guard, for the foreseeable future." You blink. "A guard?" <center>[[Continue.|C1_T5]]</center>

The person, //Vethna//, just tilts their head at you, picking apart your response. Their eyes bore through you before they nod, just barely, a soft affirmitive hum spilling past your lips. "Yes." You don't know why the offer makes you feel so strange. You've worked as a "guard" before. Shepherding shipments of goods, being a self-obsessed lordling's glorified dog for an evening at a ball. But those were all useless jobs, fighting off bandits or handsy, heart-eyed nobles. But there's something about this moment that feels different. More important. And it's enough to capture your full attention. They notice as much since the tension in their shoulders lessens, their eyes darting about before they lean forward. Their hands rest on the table as they lower their voice so softly only you can hear. "Look," they murmur. "I know who you are. And I need you. You, specifically," they state. The words have your skin crawling a bit in your vagueness, and can't help but clear your throat, struggling to fully comprehend the bizarre moment. "Me?" you drawl. "A washed up mercenary?" They shake their head immediately, however, and you suddenly get the sinking feeling throwing out your title from //before// might've finally come to bite you in the ass. Because not a second later, your name, your //real// name, comes flowing past their lips. "No," they state, voice firm. "I need... * [['"Elaine..."'|C1_T6][$name to "Elaine"]] * [['"Tobias..."'|C1_T6][$name to "Tobias"]] * [['"Juniper..."'|C1_T6][$name to "Juniper"]] * [[My name's none of these.|C1_T6.1]]

"Wait," you interrupt. Neither one of them looks at you immediately, too busy groveling and glowering, but slowly their attention shifts. "You knew that woman? You weren't trying to..." "Commit a blood sacrifice? No!" Jamie blurts. "Are you kidding me? //She's// the lunatic, not me—" "Yes, yes, keep your family history of lunacy out of this," Vethna drawls. "Lnyla is my //cousin,//" Jamie states, looking at you. His... //cousin?// You blink owlishly, brain trying, and failing to make much sense of anything. "But some woman in the village asked me to look for her daughter. I assumed..." You stop talking when you see the look of blatant guilt that passes over Jamie's face. His skin is pale, sweaty, and he looks like he's trying to keep his mouth shut. Or rather, looks like he's //supposed// to, but can't stand the crushing weight of it. "The girl who went missing //was// Lnyla," he says. "But that's not her mom. Just some woman that Lnyla thought would be convenient to shack up with for cover, and a bunch of her //ubrestras// are scattered about in disguise. I //told// you," Jamie says, his voice nearly breaking, throwing his arms at you. "They're looking for //you!//" For you. The Geldakris is looking for you. And that woman, Lnyla... "She's a sorcerer," Vethna says, meeting your gaze. "Part of House Erudias. A distant relative, sure, but no less bloodthirsty." So yet again, you're left with your first question... <center>[['"Why?"'|C1_7B_5]]</center>

"How do you two know each other?" you ask. Your sword is still up, but not high. You've abandoned the thought of either of them being immediate dangers. No, they seem to strung up in their own problems to consider creating new ones. Jamie's silent, looking to Vethna to answer, and they take their sweet time to do so. They glower, jaw twitching a little before they rise to stand and dust themself off. "We're aquaintences," they state simply. "We've run in similar circles. It just happens this moronic imbecile has yet again gotten tangled up in my plans." You raise a brow. "Oh? And what are those? You gonna try and drag me off to Vygrand now, too?" Vethna's nose wrinkles. "Hardly. I've been trying to claw my way free from that place for the better half of the year," Vethna states. "Though it //is// you I have been looking for, as of late, yes." They step closer to you, and you take a step back, lifting your blade in warning. They just raise a brow in response. Their head tilts before they lift an idle finger to caress a line along the edge of your blade. "I have no intention of bringing you harm, Commander," Vethna states. //Commander.// The word alone sends a chill down your spine. You're not accustomed to this. So many people knowing you, your past. After three years you thought your history would stop coming back to bite you in the ass. Seems you were wrong. "Quite the opposite in fact. I find myself in need of a guard. You're more than capable, and we both share something in common," Vethna states. "What's that?" "A desperate need to stay out of Vygrand's clutches." And yet again, your brought back to your first question... <center>[['"Why would Vygrand want either of us?"'|C1_7B_5]]</center>

You do not have the time or the headspace for this. Annoyance crosses your features as they bicker, and you sigh before turning to leave. You barely manage to take a step before you feel their eyes on you, burning through you— "Wait." Yeah. You saw that coming. You stop in your tracks, mentally preparing yourself before you turn to slowly look at them both. The one standing, //Vethna,// is staring at you with hard to read eyes. Like they're both demanding and pleading all at once. "What?" you drawl. You don't bite back your annoyance, and Vethan shifts where they stand, brows furrowing and a frown threatening to pull at their lips. "You can't just leave. I... I have spent a long time needing to find you." Their wordings odd, and you bristle yet again. //Can't.// You //can't// leave? Vethna reads as much since they raise placating hands, head tilting. "Look. I can help you. And you can help me," Vethna says, taking a step closer to you. "That woman, with Jamie, her name is Lnyla. She's a member of the Geldakris. They're looking for you, and they're looking for //me//, too." You blink. Your gaze briefly flicks to Jamie, who's staring up at you like a terrified child. His gaze practically reads //I told you so.// You turn back to Vethna, eyes narrowing. You have no idea if they're lying or not. Their kind stink of manipulation, more often than not. <center>[['"Why would Vygrand want either of us?"'|C1_7B_5]]</center>

"Two Vygrandian sorcerers in the middle of the Plaithian wilderness," you drawl, "now what are the chances of that?" Vethna rolls their eyes. Jamie watches them warily. "Yes. How suspicious," Vethna agrees, voice purposely pompous. "You've caught us red-handed, Commander—"//Commander?// "—we're here to brainwash your idiotic general public, commit blood sacrifices, and wreak havoc with our witchy powers. Tremble where you stand." "You gonna try and tell me you're here for unrelated, innocuous reasons?" "Well... no," they admit. "But that's because we're questionable people with questionable histories. That has //nothing// to do with us being Vygranders." Jamie's eyes slowly slide between both of you. You get the sense if he could bury a hole in the ground and disappear, he would. "I have no intention of attempting to bring harm to you," Vethna states. "Really?" you drawl. You sniff, nodding at Jamie. "Because he had some interesting words to say earlier." "Did he now?" Vethna asks. Their gaze goes dark, pointed in at where Jamie shrinks into himself. "You gonna try and drag me back to Vygrand too, huh? Hand me over to the Geldakris?" Vethna's expression falls immediately, their gaze threatening to go to Jamie if it were not so focused on //you.// "I have no intention of bringing you harm, nonetheless of dragging you back to my homeland, Commander," Vethna states, their tone laced in indignation. //Commander.// The word alone sends a chill down your spine. You're not accustomed to this. So many people knowing you, your past. After three years you thought your history would stop coming back to bite you in the ass. Seems you were wrong. "Quite the opposite in fact. I find myself in need of a guard. You're more than capable, and we both share something in common," Vethna states. "What's that?" "A desperate need to stay out of Vygrand's clutches." And yet again, your brought back to your first question... <center>[['"Why would Vygrand want either of us?"'|C1_7B_5]]</center>

Vethna's lips press together, eyes glued to yours for a long moment. You feel like they're staring right through you before they dare to glance away, wetting their lips and shrugging. "I don't know," they say. "No one knows. But they want you, and they won't stop sending people until they lay hands on you." Their eyes meet yours again before they're taking a step closer, watching the way your grip tightens on your blade. "And //I// have been desperate to escape Vyrgand for... years now," they murmur. "You should know well enough Vygrand isn't fond of losing its own." "Isn't fond of losing people who are //important,//" you correct. "So who are you then?" "Me?" They repeat. "I'm no one." "So they'd be hunting you down, why?" Their expression is unwavering for a long moment, cold even, as their eyes flicker between yours. You can feel them scrutinizing you, trying to pull you apart and piece you back together before they announce: "I worked for someone important, They told me information, once. Confidential information. Important." You just hum at that. Great. You have an entire nation trying to kidnap you and now a mysterious magic-user that seems dead-set on proposing an alliance of some sort or another. "I can help you," Vethna offers. "I know how Vygrand thinks. And //you,//" oh, this should be good, "you can keep the magic-hunters they send at bay." "And what if they send more magic-users?" "Then that'll be up to me," they state simply. They seem so assured of themself. Arrogant, nearly. But the more you look at them, the more you them for what it really is. Desperation. "So what about him then?" you retort, looking at Jamie. <center>[[Continue.|C1_7B_6]]</center>

Vethna's eyes follow your stare, Jamie's panicked dark gaze flickering between both of you. His face is pale as he swallows thick, fumbling as he tries to find his voice. He fails. "What do you want to do with him?" Vethna asks, looking at you. There's some darker gleam in their gaze. As if they're handing Jamie's fate over to you. Some friend they are, huh? "I was trying to //stop// her," the man breathes. "Lnyla. From going after //you.// All I wanted was to get home." His voice shakes as he speaks. You're not left feeling like he's a particularly large threat. But he's skeevy. Spineless. And sometime's that's just as dangerous as being malicious. And yet, he tells the truth. All he wanted was to get away from you in the woods. Your eyes narrow as you look at him, lips pressing into a thin line. *[[Let him go. You pity the fool.|C1_7B_6A]] *[[Threaten him to stay quiet, but let him go.|C1_7B_6B]] *[[Kill him.|C1_7B_6C]]

"I need $name..." * [['"Lynzal..."'|C1_T7][$name_l to "Lynzal"]] * [['"Vamirel..."'|C1_T7][$name_l to "Vamirel"]] * [['"Kalesko..."'|C1_T7][$name_l to "Kalesko"]] * [[My last name's none of these.|C1_T7.1]]

//What's your name? Make sure to capitalize it.// <<textbox "$name" "Type name here">> <center>[[Continue.|C1_T6]]</center>

"I need $name $name_l. I need the ex-commander of Plaithus. I //need// The $title." Each word that leaves their mouth has you feeling a pit in your stomach. It suddenly sounds a lot less impressive when it's being spat back at you. You haven't gone by your real name since you've been exiled, and just //hearing// it again has you feeling physically ill. Whoever's sitting across from you knows who you are. And if they've gone all this way to see you, //find you...// *[["'Well, you\'re shit out of luck. The " + $title + " is dead.'"|C1_T7A]] *[['"If you know half as much as you pretend to, you\'d know I\'m useless to you."'|C1_T7B]] *[[Look them over. "You seem perfectly capable of handling yourself."|C1_T7C]] *[["'The " + $title + "? You must be in pretty deep shit, then.'"|C1_T7D]] *[[Say nothing. Let them explain themself.|C1_T7E]]

//What's your //last// name? Make sure to capitalize it.// <<textbox "$name_l" "Type name here">> <center>[[Continue.|C1_T7]]</center>

<<set $sarcasm += 2>>"Well, you're shit out of luck. The $title's dead," you state, immediately going to down more of your ale. "That's strange," Vethna muses, "considering I'm looking at you right now." You clench your jaw, sucking in a low breath as if that'll calm you any. And then you force yourself to meet their eyes. Their gaze feels weighty. Purposeful. And so, utterly desperate. <center>[[Continue.|C1_T8]]</center>

<<set $genuine += 2>>"If you know half as much as you pretend to, you'd know I'm useless to you," you state, shaking your head as you extend your hands to warm them by the fire. <<if $j_e != "dead">>"Correction. You're useless //against// sorcerers. Not useless //to// one," Vethna states, seeming far-too pleased of themself. "And if things go smoothly, the people I'll need you fighting are anything but magic-users." You hate that their words pique your interest, and you can't fight the scowl on your face as you force yourself to meet Vethna's eyes, <<else>>"If you were use useless, Jamie's body wouldn't be rotting a few hundred feet from us right now," Vethna states, their tone leaving little room for argument. "He's a far cry from the fiercest sorcerer, it's true, but most would be dead facing against him, anyhow." You wonder if they know how insulting their words feel. It's like a consulatary prize. //Congratulations, $name, you're stronger than a weak-kneed recruit.// You can't help but scoff a humorles gruff laugh, lifting your eyes to meet Vethna's. You regret it the second you do. <</if>> Their gaze feels weighty. Purposeful. And so, utterly desperate. <center>[[Continue.|C1_T8]]</center>

<<set $genuine += 2>>You scan Vethna over head-to-toe, ignoring their words in favor of scrutinizing them. They're thin, weak-looking, but then again... most Vygranders are. Their pursuits hardly lie in things like the physical body. No, they're more concerned with the mystical arts. The //arcane//, as Sabir used to say. Regardless, you feel Vethna's magic. It's strong to the point it's sickening, surrounding you, filling the air you breathe. It makes the woods hum with life, makes the hair on the back of your neck stand on end with the feeling of paranoia and anticipation. You have the strange feeling if you were to lunge across the table and put your knife to their neck, they'd have no problem finding a way out of your grasp. They don't feel like prey. Don't feel weak. And something about that unnerves you. "You seem perfectly capable of handling yourself," you muse, your eyes meeting theirs. They shift beneath your stare, lips pressing together in the most fleeting expression of discomfort. "Well, it's not myself that needs handling," they state, straightening their shoulders once more, their passive expression returning tenfold. Your lips threaten to twitch into a scowl. Their gaze feels weighty, //purposeful.// And beyond all that, //desperate.// So, incredibly desperate. <center>[[Continue.|C1_T8]]</center>

<<set $aggression += 2>>You idly sip at your ale, taking your time. "The $title, huh?" You murmur, your eyes finally meeting Vethna's expectant gaze. Their expression is impossible to read, lips pressed together, face a serene mask of apathy. But their eyes betray something vulnerable. Some sort of desperate need for you to say //yes.// You take their silence as confirmation, and you can't help the solemn hum that comes from the back of your throat, sounding more like a quiet growl than anything. "You must be in some pretty deep shit then," you muse. "Not many people have tried to privately commission //the// Commander." "Stop talking about yourself like you're dead." "Might as well be if it's The $title you're looking for," you mutter, kicking the mulch beneath your feet just to have something to do. You can see Vethna's lips threaten to turn into a scowl, the dim light of the fire dramatizing their every grimace. "I didn't travel all this way to take no as an answer," Vethna states simply. You can hear the stubbornness in their voice, almost childish in its finality. Your lips threaten to twitch into a frown. Their gaze feels weighty, //purposeful.// And beyond all that, //desperate.// So, incredibly desperate. <center>[[Continue.|C1_T8]]</center>

<<set $stoic += 2>>You say nothing, opting instead to just glower at the sorcerer. You feel tired, and hearing your owl $title has a weariness settling over you that you thought you had left in the past. You resent this stranger for uttering it— but more-so, you resent the hesitant hope that threatens to shine in their eyes as they say it. "Please," Vethna blurts suddenly. They seem to shock themself just as much as they confuse you,, a sliver of desperation seeping into their voice. It takes you aback. There's a sort of childish nature to them at the bit back fear in their expression, the anxiety that lingers in their tense body-language that you only seem to just now be noticing. And now that you see it, you can't stop noticing every nervous tick. The way their lips are pressed together a little ''too'' tightly, the way their sharp fingernails dig into their flesh from where their hands are clasped together. <center>[[Continue.|C1_T8]]</center>

"I can pay you," they add, voice threatening to waver. You raise a brow at them as they pull out a small satchel of what sounds to be coins. They watch you expectantly as your eyes flicker from their offering hand to them and back again, and when you take the satchel from them, you weigh it in your hands. Well... //shit.// It's not light, that's for sure, and you know without looking it's filled with gold. Even so, you can't help but open the pouch and pull out a single coin, inspecting it idly. It could be glamor, or some sort of illusion. You wouldn't put it beneath a Vygrander, that's for sure, and it's only when the metallic tang of the coin hits your nose that you drop it back in the pouch and tie it shut once more. "And what am I protecting you from?" you ask, glancing back at them. Your hair's on end at the back of your neck, suddenly hyperaware of the people who sit around you. <center>[[Continue.|C1_T9]]</center>

<<notify 5s>>Place Codex Unlocked: Vrithka<</notify>>Their brows knit together at the question. Their lips press, and they look like they're going to answer before they settle for an, "it's not important." You narrow your eyes. You know, if you were a wiser person, you'd turn tail and leave. This reeks of foul play, and yet the gold in your hands is heavy. Promising. Promising enough to ensure a life after this. A proper one. "Interesting how nothing about you is important, and yet you somehow know everything about me," you state. "I believe that's called having the upper-hand," Vethna murmurs. They don't sound particularly haughty, despite the words. More-so exhausted as they reluctantly confess the effort that's gone into this. Into finding //you.// "In politics, maybe," you muse, tilting your head slightly. "But I wouldn't go so far as to claim you have any advantage. Not here. Not now." Your hand settles on the hilt of your sword just to prove your point, and Vethna's gaze flickers to follow before they shake their head a little, pushing away whatever macabre thoughts you've filled their mind with. "It's nothing you can't handle, I'm sure," Vethna states, looking at you, meeting your gaze. "They won't be Vygranders, if that's what you're asking. I can handle them well enough on my own." If not Vygranders... "Vrithkans," you state. Vethna swallows, then nods once solemnly. You look at them consideringly. They look... //vulnerable//, almost, as they watch you: unsure of themself. You let out a sigh, partially dragging your hand over your face. Vethna's hands clasp together in nervousness. "I can pay you every month," they add quickly. "I have the means." *[['"I don\'t want your money."'|C1_T10A]] *[['"No," you wave your hand at them, "an initial payment\'s fine."'|C1_T10B]] *[['"... fine."'|C1_T10C]]

<<set $money to 1>>"I don't need your money," you say, shaking your head as you hand them back the pouch. They don't take it back immediately, instead looking at you strangely. "What?" They stare at you as if this is the first time in their life their wealth hasn't been able to get them out of a a sticky situation. You wouldn't be surprised if it //is.// You let them squirm in concern for a moment before you continue... "I'll help you without it," you say. They blink owlishly. "//Why?//" You raise a brow at them, almost amused by their naivety. "Money isn't why I help people," you state. Their eyes flicker between yours, the furrow between their brow deepening, but you choose to ignore it, looking at the dim atmosphere of the tavern. It's quiet save for the murmuring of patrons and the fire crackling. It feels like the peace before the storm. "That's... very honorable of you," Vethna says. //Honorable.// The word makes a wry smile form on your face as you huff out an almost bitter-sounding laugh. "I suppose." <center>[[Continue.|C1_T11]]</center>

<<set $money to 2>>"No need," you say, pocketing the gold. "This much is fine." Quite frankly, it's more gold that you've seen in the past months combined. It makes strange, fuzzy memories surface in your mind. Memories of grandeur, and— you wince, swallowing thickly as you push the memories back. The good ones are almost worse than the bad ones. You can feel Vethna's gaze burning through you, and you chew on the inside of your cheek as you look at the dim atmosphere of the tavern. It's quiet save for the murmuring of patrons and the fire crackling. It feels like the peace before the storm. "Thank you," they say. "Really. I mean it." It's an oddly genuine display considering what little you've seen of their personality, but you just ignore it. Vygranders aren't exactly known for being sensical. <center>[[Continue.|C1_T11]]</center>

<<set $money to 3>>"If you're sure," you mumble. You squeeze the pouch one last time for good measure before pocketing it, not missing the expression of relief on their face. "I am." Quite frankly, it's more gold that you've seen in the past months combined. It makes strange, fuzzy memories surface in your mind. Memories of grandeur, and— you wince, swallowing thickly as you push the memories back. The good ones are almost worse than the bad ones. You can feel Vethna's gaze burning through you, and you chew on the inside of your cheek as you look at the dim atmosphere of the tavern. It's quiet save for the murmuring of patrons and the fire crackling. It feels like the peace before the storm. "Thank you," they say. "Really. I mean it." It's an oddly genuine display considering what little you've seen of their personality, but you just ignore it. Vygranders aren't exactly known for being sensical. <center>[[Continue.|C1_T11]]</center>

"Yeah," you spit. "Having the time of my life." The man laughs a bit. It's clipped, quick, shows off his fangs that gleam in the dimness of the room. "Glad we can agree—" <<include "C1_41B_A_A2_B2">>

"Suck my dick, asshole," you snap. The man's eyes widen for a moment, stunned, before he rears back with a laugh. He looks amused, //happy//, his eyes gleaming. "You're awfully bossy for being on the bottom—" <<include "C1_41B_A_A2_B2">>

You just growl, jaw clenched tight as you writhe in his grasp. //Fucker—// <<include "C1_41B_A_A2_B2">>

"Are we about to kiss right now?" you blurt. He's close, you're both sweaty— "call me insane, but I am //definitely// catching a vibe right now—" The man laughs, a crooked grin on his face as he drags his tongue along his fangs. "Are ya now—?" <<include "C1_41B_A_A2_B2">>

<<if $height eq "very tall">><<set $nikke_h to "face">>You yank the man forward, headbutting him right in the nose before he can get another word out. A //thunk// comes from the impact, and you shake off the pain to tackle him to the ground, a growl tearing from your throat. He's too dazed to do much of anything for a moment, and you seize the advantage, punching him in the face once, twice, //three times// before he manages to lift his arms up to defend himself. It doesn't stop you. You're determined, //angry//, and the more teal-colored blood you see seep from his face fuels you to hit harder. His hands fumble to grasp for yours, snarls spilling past his lips. Yeah. Not so funny now, is it? *[[Kill him.|C1_41B_A_A2_B2_A]] *[[Threaten him to stay down.|C1_41B_A_A2_B2_B]]<<elseif $height eq "tall">><<set $nikke_h to "face">>You yank the man forward, headbutting him right in the nose before he can get another word out. A //thunk// comes from the impact, and you shake off the pain to tackle him to the ground, a growl tearing from your throat. He's too dazed to do much of anything for a moment, and you seize the advantage, punching him in the face once, twice, //three times// before he manages to lift his arms up to defend himself. Your eyes catch on the knife, still clasped in his hand.<<elseif $height eq "average height">><<if $beast eq "wolf">><<set $nikke_h to "bite">>A deep snarl rumbles in your chest before the man can get another word out. It's deep, primitive, //feral//. Instead of cringing away from the man's venomous fangs, you bare your own, large and jagged. You lunge upwards, snapping at his face. The blood of a wolf runs within you, //hungry,// and this little snake thing is nothing compared to it. He seems to know it, since he's scrambling away not a moment later, clutching his knife so tight his knuckles go white. "Scared?" you ask. Your voice is more growl than speech, and you can see the way the man's face goes a bit pale. He //should// fear you. For once, he's without a smart comment. It's all the invitation you need to spring forward, pinning him to the ground before opening your jaw //wide—// Wet, warm, blood seeps into your mouth as your jaw clenches down over his shoulder. A pained snarl escapes the man from beneath you, but he's not strong enough to push you back in this moment. You're starving, the beast within you craving //more,// and you can feel muscles snap benath the force of your bite as he arches and writhes. You sink your teeth in deeper and //deeper,// and a part of you wants to rip, wants to //tear.// To eat and consume. But you don't have time. You pull back reluctantly. Blood and drool drips from your lips as you sit up, staring at the gory wound you've left on the gorgon. His blood is teal, bitter in your mouth, and his eyes are wide in a mix of horror and rage as he sucks in shaking, trembling breaths from beneath you. You rise to stand slowly. Your joints ache at the movement, your lungs burning from adrenaline. Your foot moves over to his good arm, pressing over his forearm. He doesn't bother to beg. He just hisses, fangs bared, as you bare your full weight onto his arm, listening to the sick //crack// that fills the room. His head falls back at the pain, a groan bubbling up from his throat as you turn your back to him, gaze landing on where Vethna is.<<elseif $beast eq "phoenix">><<set $nikke_h to "burn">><<set $nikke_h2 to "out">>A furious growl escapes your clenched jaw before the man can get another word out. You're cornered, //pinned//, the anger at being beat and the adrenaline of near-death sending your heart racing. You can feel it, the heat rising within you. A heat you cannot fully contain nor control. He seems to realize something's off. //Wrong.// He tries to pull away, but you pull him closer, grip tightening. It burns. The heat within you //burns,// veins glowing orange, hands turning searing hot. There's the smell of burning flesh as you burn through his skin, foreign curses spilling past the man's lips as he rips himself free. He stumbles back several steps before righting himself, his knife clutched so tightly his knuckles are going white. You feel like you can't breathe. Your vision is tunnelling, skin on fire. You feel like you want to drop to the ground and peel your skin off to be rid of this suffocating //heat//, but you press onwards instead. He scrambles back, kicking at your torso when you attempt to descend upon him. It steals the breath from your lungs—but you focus on gripping one of his legs instead, slowly dragging him dowards you as he kicks and scrambles. Your hands leave singe marks on his clothing, and soon enough, you're straddling him. Your every touch scalds, smoke bellowing from your lips that makes you cough and wheeze. You wretch the blade from his hands. It's not hard. He practically drops it when you grip his wrist. You hold it tight, letting the metal heat up, hotter and //hotter// before you're slamming the blade right into his side, carving it in deep between his rips until you see teal bubble up from his lips. His eyes are glued to yours the entire time, pupils slits. He doesn't flinch, doesn't cringe. Just takes the pain you gift, knowing it's futile. You rise to stand slowly. Burn marks cover his flesh, teal blood seeping from his wound as you slowly turn to where Vethna is. One down, another to go.<<elseif $beast eq "demon">>A furious grumble escapes you before the man can get another word out. You can feel them around you, laughing and pointing at you, imps and demons beneath your command. They hide in the shadows, unseen, immaterial. You summon every ounce of rage you feel and channel it into your command. //Get him off.// They don't listen at first. They jeer and jab, flocking around you in excitement at the idea of your demise. But when you let out a guttural grown, gnashing your fangs as the man presses closer, they finally spring to action. Shadowed, clawed, rabid hands grasp at the man, throwing him off of you in a combined effort. Horned little imps pin him to the ground as you rise to stand. He kicks, scrambles—but by the time he manages to break free, you're hovering over him, plucking the knife from his hands. "Night," you murmur. He doesn't get the chance to respond before you're stomping down on his head, //hard.// Lights out. He's down for the count now, and slowly, you turn to see where Vethna is.<<else>><<set $nikke_h to "guts">>You hiss at the man before he can get another word out. He laughs in response, a crooked grin forming on his face. <<hovertip "''OWC:'' 'Pah-thee-so-s': half-blood, slur">>"//Pathisos//,"<</hovertip>> he snarls. You don't respond. Instead, you remove your arm holding back his fangs, letting him lunge forward, sinking his fangs into the space between your neck and shoulders. You feel the venom. Burning, searing, tearing through your bloodstream. But you can take it. It gives you enough of an opening to rip the dagger from his hand and sink it //right// into his ribs. But he doesn't let you go. No, he just sinks his teeth in deeper, a pained sound escaping you as you hear, //feel//, your veins crunch beneath the force. You press deeper, harder, start sawing through his flesh and skin, eviscerating him slowly. It's not until you've carved several inches that he releases you, rearing his head back. His eyes are slits. He is something monstrous above you, rattling and seething, your blood coating his entire mouth as it drips onto your face. He pulls back from you. Or rather, //collapses// away from you. His hand drops to his side, pressing against where his innards threaten to spill, keeping them in place. He's grinning at you, laughing as blood seeps from his lips. You don't know why. Can't make sense of it. Can't make sense of much of anything. Your body feels abuzz from the venom, skin burning and prickling... but you force yourself to stand slowly, even as the world spins around you. He's down for the count now, and slowly, you turn to see where Vethna is.<</if>> <center>[[Continue.|C1_N2_2]]</center><<else>>You're ripping the knife out from your shirt before he can get another word out, using his brief distraction as an opening. You slash forward, aiming for his throat. It forces him to fall backwards to avoid it. You kick him in the stomach, sending him sprawling onto his back as you crawl on top, lifting the dagger above your head. His eyes are wide. He wasn't expecting you to be quicker. But he doesn't seem scared, or worried in the slightest. He just starts laughing beneath you, chest shaking in his delighted chuckles. "Go on," he coos. "//Try.//" *[[Stab him.|C1_N2_A]] *[[Try to stand and put some distance between you both.|C1_N2_B]]<</if>>

<<set $nikke_res -5>>You sneer, lips curling back in a growl. What would you listen to him for? //You// have the knife. //You// have the advantage. And you intend to seize the moment. The blade glimmers and gleams above your head before you're slamming it down on the figure beneath you. The knife sinks into his chest, deep, wedging between ribs. A pained grimace escapes him, teeth bared, fangs gleaming... and then quicker than you can blink, those fangs are sinking into your neck. His hand covers yours where you grip the hilt of the dagger, keeping it still, pulling it //deeper.// He impales himself on your blade just to have the excuse of pulling you closer, his other hand gripping the back of your neck, sharpened claws cutting at your skin. He holds you still as his venom seeps into you, burning, intense, //lethal.// He did warn you. Your head spins. Your free hand falters, attempting to push him away. But soon you find yourself incapable of doing even that, your arm going weak as your eyes roll back in your head. Everything's spinning. Everything's //dark.// You hear Vethna calling your name. Faintly. And then you hear nothing at all. <center>[[Continue.|C1_N2_A2]]</center>

<<set $nikke_res ++>>You don't know why, but something about the way he speaks has the hair on the back of your neck on edge. You've been through too much in your life to make a mistak as amateur as being too cocky. The man's eyes narrow as you solidify your resolve, and at the last second, you rise to stand. You barely evade a last second lunge from the man when he goes to snap his jaw at you. His fangs narrowly miss your arm, and you barely keep your balance enough to //kick// at the last second. As hard. As you possibly. Can. Your foot nails him in the side of his head. He hisses in pain, grimacing, a hand flying to his temple—but you don't stop there. No, you kick him down in the chest a second time, and he barely has a chance to look up at you, eyes wide, lips parted and busted— Your foot comes down on his head a second time. His head makes a thud when it collides with the ground, his eyes rolling back before he's knocked out cold. How kind of him to issue you a warning, hm? <center>[[Continue.|C1_N2_2]]</center>

Vethna's pinned up against the wall, their wrists pinned above their head as they struggle and snarl. There's a bruise blossoming on their cheek, dark and purple, the skin busted as the smallest dribble of crimson runs down their face. The gorgon herself has teal blood dripping from a nasty cut along her temple. You can't help but feel vaguely impressed Vethna got any licks in at all. *[[Grab the man. Threaten to slit his throat unless Vethna's released.|C1_N2_2A]] *[[Charge and tackle the woman.|C1_N2_2B]] *[[Make eye contact with Vethna. If they keep struggling, you can sneak up behind, and...|C1_N2_2C]]

"Well this is awkward," you drawl, "there goes out escape strategy." Vethna blinks at that, snapping their head to look at you all wide-eyed. //"What?"// "Nonsense," the man croons, a grin forming on his face, his fangs gleaming as he stands to his full height, <<if $height eq "very tall">>squaring you up.<<elseif $height eq "tall">>standing above you<<else>>towering over you.<</if>> "You just need to get past me first." You crack your neck, ushering Vethna further behind you as you unsheathe your sword, the metal swinging. "Yeah. I had a feeling you were gonna say that." <<include "C1_41A_2">>

You have one job. Just the one. Keep Vethna safe. And right now, the safest way to do that is to get this //fucker// away. That, and you //really// just wanna throw his scaley little ass out the window. You give no warning as you run full speed, crouching your body low to the ground before launching yourself at the man. Your arms wrap around his waist, grunts escaping both of you as you go toppling. He trips backwards, and you narrowly miss smacking your head on the window sill before you're both falling. Your stomach plummets. You both clutch at each other, claws tearing at flesh as the man blindly hisses and bites, and soon you're both plunging into freezing water. You feel the air stolen from you, and it takes //everything// in you to not immediately breathe in, fumbling blindly for the surface. The water is filthy, so cold it burns your eyes, and when you surface you gasp for air. Not a second later, you feel a clawed hand //ripping// at your leg, threatening to yank you underwater. Okay. Maybe not the smartest idea. <<if $beast eq "gorgon">>Gorgons are great fighters in water. And you? Your blood's a little //stale// to have the same advantage.<<else>>Gorgons are great fighters in the water. You? Not so much.<</if>> You suck in a sharp breath before letting yourself be pulled under. You fumble, hand going to grip your dagger and rip it free. Your other hand searches in the water, blindly managing to grip a fistul of hair. You use it to pull the man closer, and it seems you both have the same idea—you blindly stab at the water until you hit something, red blossoming in the water—and the man sinks his teeth //deep// into your thigh after clawing at your boots. You feel the burn of his venom a second later. <center>[[Continue.|C1_41A_D2]]</center>

Your grip on Vethna's arm tightens. "What do you want?" "It's not the sorcerer, if that's what you're thinking," he drawls, chuckling as he sees you hold their arm hostage. He takes a lazy, drawn out step closer towards you. What the hell could a duo of //mythosi// want from you? Is the entire realm after your head? Your hand itches, the one that holds your sword, and you take in a deep and steadying breath. You have no doubts you could end this right here and right now, but you don't think the frightened townsfolk down below would be too happy about it. "How did you even get in here?" you ask. "I don't see humans willingly allowing your kind in." He pauses. His grin softens and widens all at once, vicious amusement in his gaze. "//My// kind?" he repeats, voice tender. Cruel. "Have you forgotten what you are, mutt?" he whispers. "A half-blood. And not even a real one at that. You don't get to posture." You scowl. Take a step back, keeping Vethna behind you as their hand grips your shoulder. "It doesn't matter how I got in," the man states, stepping closer and closer until there's barely a few feet between you both. //"Here we both are.// That's all that matters." You hear the excitement in his voice, and before he gets the chance to act on it you shove Vethna toward the window while lifting up your gauntleted arm to block a swipe of the gorgon's claws. He's fast, startling so. But then again. //So are you.// <center>[[Continue.|C1_41A_4]]</center>

You bite back the growl of pain. Instead, you use it as a target, slamming your knife toward where you feel him biting. Your dagger hits //something,// and soon he's releasing you, leaving you both to flounder. You resurface, coughing and sputtering. You struggle to keep a grip on your knife with how hard you're shivering, your eyes scanning the tumultuous surface of the makeshift river. The water bubbles before the gorgon rises, slowly, long hair stuck to skin. The streets were more flooded than you had anticipated, the raging "river" going all the way up to your waist, threatening to knock you off balance at any given moment. "What's wrong?" he asks, wading closer. A sadistic grin crawls onto his snake-like features, fangs glinting as black kohl runs down his face. "Bit off more than you can chew?" You throw your sword at him, the blade going over his head as he dodges it and moves to go behind you, scaled arms wrapping around your neck. His face presses against yours, lips by your ear, the coldness of his breath making you shiver in disgust. "Come, Commander. Give up while you're ahead. We both know your glory days are far behind you." ... //are they?// His grip tightens and you let out a gasp, your hands grabbing onto his arms as your claws dig into flesh and rip. The primitive whispers of your blood sing to you, telling you to just //kill him// already. Your elbow swings back into the gorgon's side. He lets go, cursing, and you... *[[want to kill him. Do as your instincts say and end this.|C1_41A_DA3]] *[[want to injure him so he can't follow us. Your brain hisses in discontent at the idea.|C1_41A_DA3]]

<<notify 5s>>People Codex Unlocked: Sabir du Vaelas<</notify>><<set $co_pe1 to true>>You clear your throat, turning to face Vethna— to look at the person under your charge. You haven't been a guard for someone since... //Sabir,// You suck in a grounding breath, bitingon your tongue hard enough to draw blood. This, you deem, is a bad night. You can't remember the last time so many memories have threatened to swarm you at once. You have the awful, sinking feeling it's only going to get worse from here. "My services are yours," you state, though you're painfully aware of how distant your voice sounds to your own ears— how your gaze is focused on nothing instead of them when you speak. Vethna stares at you. You think you see them nod. Barely. "Are you... alright?" they ask. Their voice is oddly hesitant. Tense. Like a piece of rope pulled taut. Your eyes snap to meet theirs. "What?" you mutter. Your voice comes out sharp. Colder than you intended. //Why would anything be wrong with you—?// Vethna's eyes flicker between yours, their red-painted lips parting and closing like a fish out of water before they subtly shake their head as if changing their mind. "Nothing. Nevermind," they murmur, abruptly looking away. A frown curls on your lips. No. A //scowl.// You force yourself to look away, sucking in another low, steadying breath. You can't help but think about who you were before this mess. Before the taunting and bitter memories. The //"commander"// had fallen from the world stage a long time ago. Why someone, //anyone//, would seek you out now is beyond you. It makes no sense. //None.// *[[Ask them why they still want you to be their guard.|C1_T11A]] *[[Leave it be.|C1_T11B]]

"Why do you still want me to be your guard after—" "After your exile?" Vethna asks. They offer you a weak smile, sucking on their teeth as they look off the side. "I don't know. Maybe it's because of that." Your brows raise at that, and Vethna shakes their head, hands raising to fend off offense. "I was raised on stories of your greatness," they explain. "You were something untouchable. Above human. But you are. Human, I mean." They flounder a bit, twirling and tugging at their hair as they swallow thick. "You can't be that much younger than I am," you say. They look young, sure, but in their early to mid twenties at least. "I'm not," they say, meeting your stare. "It doesn't change the fact that you were slaying dragons at sixteen." A wry grin pulls at your lips at that. //Ah.// Looks like that story //hasn't// died out. You shake your head, looking down at your lap as the grin slowly slides off your face. You used to tell that story to people at bars, but now... it's like everything else—gone rotten with time. "I suppose I just remember what you used to be," Vethna says. //What you used to be.// Why does it still hurt to hear from another's lips? <center>[[Continue.|C1_T12]]</center>

You bite down on your tongue to quell your curiosity, cracking your neck as you do so. An awkward tension seeps in, neither one of you seeming entirely sure what to be doing around the other. "So," you begin, "where exactly am I guarding you to?" They bite their cheeks at the question, their fingers drumming on the table. "No where," they say simply. Their eyes meet yours, expression glib, but unwilling to say more. "I can't stay in one place for long." "Neither can I." "Well. Seems we have that in common then," they state, trying to force a wry smile. "When were you intending to leave here?" "Tomorrow." You both stare at each other, tentative, struggling. They're a Vygrandian sorcerer. You're an ex-Plaithian Commander. You're not exactly cut from the same cloth, but for now... "Then we leave tomorrow." Well, for now you'll make it work. They drop their head, picking at their nails. *[[Offer to get them a drink. Might as well get to know them.|C1_T12A]] *[[Watch them leave.|C1_T12B]]

You both sit in silence for a while before you turn to glance at them. "So," you begin, "where exactly am I guarding you to?" They bite their cheeks at the question, their fingers drumming on the table. "No where," they say simply. Their eyes meet yours, expression glib, but unwilling to say more. "I can't stay in one place for long." "Neither can I." "Well. Seems we have that in common then," they state, trying to force a wry smile. "When were you intending to leave here?" "Tomorrow." You both stare at each other, tentative, struggling. They're a Vygrandian sorcerer. You're an ex-Plaithian Commander. You're not exactly cut from the same cloth, but for now... "Then we leave tomorrow." Well, for now you'll make it work. They drop their head, picking at their nails. *[[Offer to get them a drink. Might as well get to know them.|C1_T12A]] *[[Watch them leave.|C1_T12B]]

<<if $money eq 1>>"Here, a round, on me," you say, flagging down the barmaid. Vethna's brows furrow slightly as they frown, lips pressing together. "There's really no need," they protest weakly. You wave them off, however, and reluctantly, Vethna orders whatever wine they have. The second they take a taste, they blanch. You can't help but shake your head in mild amusement. "Not use to Plaithian drink, hm?"<<else>>"Might as well put this money to use, hm?" you ask, referencing the bag of gold at your side. Vethna's brows raise in surprise, taken aback for a moment. Their eyes flicker between yours, their expression distrustful before they nod, a smile slowly forming on their face. "Alright," they murmur. "I'll just pretend it's coming from your pockets and be flattered." "Just as intended," you murmur, flagging down the barmaid. They request whatever wine they have, though the second they take a taste, they blanch a little. You can't help but shake your head in mild amusement. Their nose wrinkles as they wet their lips, eyes darting around. "Not use to Plaithian drink, hm?"<</if>> "Your wines here have a penchant for... bitterness," they state, tracing the rim of their cup with their finger. "You'll find most things here are." Their shoulders sag a little bit at that, but they force a smile. "Yes. I suppose so." You don't bother asking about their own home. Vygrand. You know better than to do that of all places here. But the questions linger the longer you speak. The strange formatting of their sentences, the lilt of their voice, their mannerisms that seem too-genuine and obviously manipulative all at once. But regardless, alcohol loosens tongues, and by the end of the evening, you feel like maybe, just maybe, there's something genuine behind the gleam in their eyes when they smile. <center>[[Continue.|C1_20]]</center>

You watch as they rise to stand, the chair they sit on screeching against the wooden floors. "We'll meet here," you state. "When the sun's fully risen. No need to rush." They just nod, trying to force a lopsided smile. "Very well." They fumble for a moment before turning, pulling their hood up once more as they step out of the tavern completely, leaving you alone to finish your ale... And wonder what the hells you just signed up for. <center>[[Continue.|C1_20]]</center>

As you settle in bed that night, your mind drifts off. Your used to your past haunting you, day in and day out, every moment of every night. Tonight is no different. You dream of wet, damp walls. You dream of being locked in a cell, and of being told //this is not a punishment.// //This is ''genesis.''// And a vial of blood was thus thrust upon your hands, <<if $beast eq "wolf" or "gorgon">>red and viscous,<<elseif $beat eq "demon">black and acrid,<<else>>glowing like lava and burning,<</if>> for you to gulp down like liquid gold. So you did. You did, and you //suffered,// your blood fusing with the magic forced into your body. You screamed, but so did all the others, the ones defined fitting for the //mythosi// program. The top of your classes, specialized in certain fields of combat deemed suitable for the //mythosi// blood you've been matched with. Your blood is forcefully intertwined with thousands of years of evolution, with the most ancient forms of magic that are left in this dying realm. <<if $beast eq "wolf">>You're not just //a// werewolf. You were deemed most suitable with the blood of... *[[Dire wolves.|C1_W1]] *[[Arctic wolves.|C1_W2]] *[[Coastal wolves.|C1_W3]] *[[Timber wolves.|C1_W4]] *[[Maned wolves.|C1_W5]] *[[Red wolves.|C1_W6]]<<elseif $beast eq "gorgon">>You're not just //a// gorgon. You were deemed most suitable with the blood of... *[[Elapid snakes.|C1_G1]] *[[Sea Snakes.|C1_G2]] *[[Vipers.|C1_G3]] *[[Colubrids.|C1_G4]] *[[Boas.|C1_G5]]<<elseif $beast eq "demon">>You're not just //a// demon. You were deemed most suitable with the blood of... *[[Pride demons.|C1_D1]] *[[Envy demons.|C1_D2]] *[[Lust demons.|C1_D3]] *[[Sloth demons.|C1_D4]] *[[Wrath demons.|C1_D5]] *[[Gluttony demons.|C1_D6]] *[[Greed demons.|C1_D7]]<<else>>You're not just //a// phoenix. You were deemed most suitable with the blood of phoenixes hailing from... *[[The Pillar of Hell.|C1_P1]] *[[The Pillar of the Undying.|C1_P2]] *[[The Pillar of Aquina.|C1_P3]] *[[The Pillar of Faith.|C1_P4]] *[[The PIllar of Light.|C1_P5]] *[[The PIllar of Eternity.|C1_P6]]<</if>>

You've been infused with the blood of a Dire Wolf, incredibly large beasts compared to their fellow counterparts. While all werewolves are generally around the same-size as their human form when transformed, dire wolves are bulkier, stronger. A dire wolf will nearly ''always'' win in anything strength related, granted their competing with creatures of similar size. This, however, comes with the cost of being slow and having low endurance. Dire wolves have muscular, large builds with bushy tails and red-tinted fur. *[[It's fit you, well enough.|C1_F2]] *[[No, that's not quite right...|C1_F1.5]]

You've been infused with the blood of an Arctic Wolf. While all werewolves are generally around the same-size as their human form when transformed, arctic wolves may be a bit smaller. Arctic wolves are not affected by cold, extreme weather. Arctic wolves have fluffy white coats and short round ears. *[[It's fit you, well enough.|C1_F2]] *[[No, that's not quite right...|C1_F1.5]]

You've been infused with the blood of a Coastal Wolf, beasts just as acclimated to the sea as they are land. While all werewolves are generally around the same-size as their human form when transformed, arctic wolves may be a bit smaller. Arctic wolves have an easy time navigating water environments, though they will be much weaker than other werewolf variants. Coastal wolves have long legs, slender tails, and colors varying from black and white, though most common are coats of brown and red with darkened paws and faces. *[[It's fit you, well enough.|C1_F2]] *[[No, that's not quite right...|C1_F1.5]]

You've been infused with the blood of a Timber Wolf, one of the largest variations of werewolves. While all werewolves are generally around the same-size as their human form when transformed, timberwolves tend to be larger. Timber wolves have colors varying from black, brown, and grey. *[[It's fit you, well enough.|C1_F2]] *[[No, that's not quite right...|C1_F1.5]]

You've been infused with the blood of a Maned Wolf, beasts that resemble large foxes more than wolves. While all werewolves are generally around the same-size as their human form when transformed, maned wolves tend to be taller and thinner than their counterparts. Maned wolves are quicker than other werewolf variants, though significantly less strong. They tend to have a significantly smaller prey drive than most werewolves. Maned wolves have long legs, slender tails, and have red coats with slender faces. *[[It's fit you, well enough.|C1_F2]] *[[No, that's not quite right...|C1_F1.5]]

You've been infused with the blood of a Red Wolf. While all werewolves are generally around the same-size as their human form when transformed, red wolves tend to be smaller and thinner than their counterparts. Red wolves are quicker than other werewolf variants, though significantly less strong. Red wolves have fluffy tails and coats ranging from only red-tinted gray fur to bright, varying shades of rust. *[[It's fit you, well enough.|C1_F2]] *[[No, that's not quite right...|C1_F1.5]]

You’ve been infused with the blood of a Pride Demon. Though considered less //dangerous// compared to other demon types, they're infused with a level of arrogance perfectly becoming of one in your former station—as a Commander of the military. Pride demons often come to those who are failed artists or underdogs, people with great passions but little skill. They imbue them with confidence, only to fill them with such levels of arrogance people have driven themselves to infamy and death. You are capable of much the same. You're the best. Why else would you once have been the commander? Everyone else is beneath you, no better than the dirt beneath your feet. And if they ever forget that… Well, you don’t mind reminding them. You can sniff out the insecurities and fears of others like a repulsive stench, and you know //exactly// how to manipulate their own fears against them. Demons of Pride often have horns in the formation of a crown, and have skin-tones in various shades of blue, white, and grey. Their teeth are usually all sharpened. *[[It's fit you, well enough.|C1_F2]] *[[No, that's not quite right...|C1_F1.5]]

You've been infused with the blood of an Envy demon, considered one of the most dangerous demons in the realm. They're wretched, jealous things, incapable of feeling joy for the successes of others and cursed into forever feeling inadequate. They are known for finding those who are insecure in an attempt to find friendship, stewing in shared resentment of the world around them. Inevitably, in attempts to become better, they either drive the humans they haunt into infamy, or into actual self-betterment. And when the latter happens... well, Envy demons become jealous of the human. Want to //become// the person. And so they skin them. Steal their flesh. Wear it as a mask to parade around in the world as until they stumble upon another poor, insecure fool. You are capable of much the same, for better or worse. At your best, you’re competitive—constantly seeing what your peers have and wanting it so much that you’d do anything to have it. At your worst, you are plagued by doubt and indecision. You’ve learned how to mimic others—to speak the way they do, fight the way they do, dress, love, and //hate// the way they do. More often than not, you’ve wanted to just take their skin and wear it as a protective blanket to hide you from the world… To hide the world from your crippling inadequacy. You are //ugly,// and //worthless,// and you must always prove to yourself and those around you that you are better than you are. You do it by tearing down those around you. You can sniff out their insecurities like a terrible stench, and you know //excactly// how to turn people's insecurities against them. To puppet them however you like. Sometimes, the lines between you and others blur so severely you can even feel, //think// like they do. Envy demons are known for having skin in shades of greens, yellows, and browns, though most infamously, they are famous for their green eyes. Always green. Always, //always// green. *[[It's fit you, well enough.|C1_F2]] *[[No, that's not quite right...|C1_F1.5]]

You've been infused with the blood of a Lust demon, otherwise known as a sucubus or incubus. They're ambivalent demons, not too dangerous when handled by those familiar with their tactics. They're hungry, hungry beasts, cursed to starve for sexual and romantic attention. They are known to seek out those who are lonely, offer companionship in return of adoration. They have an allure to them, a promise of comfort, of //gentleness.// They are beautiful creatures. They will steal your life force slowly, until you die, if you let them. But oh, they will //love// you until your last breath. And in that brief moment, whether it be days or months, it will have been genuine. They're cursed to forever want love, and kill those that ever dare to try. You are cursed just the same. You can bend others to your will with a smile or tilt of the head. You don't even have to //try// anymore. And yet, you are cursed to feel empty and incomplete for all of eternity. You have a hunger that runs deep—an insatiable thirst for the emotions that are want and pleasure. But you are destined to destroy that which you want, plagued constantly by paranoia and obsession. Your human side has managed to negate the effects somewhat, and while you would not die from not pursuing these things like your full-blooded counterparts would, it leaves you weak and aching. You are capable of sensing when others around you are lonely or yearning, whether it be for you or another. And, as such, you know how to manipulate them //however// you please. Demons of Lust are known for having skin tones in shades of pink, purple, and fuschia, and having pink eyes. Their flesh is often glittery, their hair coming in all sorts of rich, jewel-toned colors. //(TW: Sexual themes will be prevalent throughout your play through, and possibly triggering topics surrounding it.)// *[[It's fit you, well enough.|C1_F2]] *[[No, that's not quite right...|C1_F1.5]]

You've been infused with the blood of a Sloth demon. They are considered the weakest of demons, though you'd beg to disagree. They're apathetic, careless, slow beasts, prone to seclusion. And yet, they are drawn to those who suffer of the same affliction. Humans and creatures with little joy. They seek them out, offer comfort, offer protection. //Offer shared suffering.// It's an intoxicating offer, one most are incapable of refusing. They fester depression and sorrow, feeding it until the humans they haunt are tempted into taking their own lives without ever having had lifted a finger. You are capable of much the same. You are not lazy. No, you are //desperate.// Each day is a struggle to rise from bed, each step you take is weak, shaky. You would kill to be the person you were before becoming //this//. It's ripped away your dreams, your hopes, your aspirations. Luckily for you, two can play that game. You can sense when those around you are beginning to feel worn down, and you know how to accelerate the feeling under the guise of companionship. You know how to manipulate others as easily as you can breathe, and when push comes to shove, you are capable of filling people's minds with terrible, //terrible// ideas. Sloth demons are known for having skin tones in shades of grey, and eyes/hair that are black, white, or silver. Their horns usually droop downwards, and their fangs tend to be on their lower teeth. They weep black tears that are considered toxic to those around them. //(TW: Depression, suicidal thoughts, and the support of negative thoughts will be prevalent throughout your play through, and possibly triggering topics surrounding it.)// *[[It's fit you, well enough.|C1_F2]] *[[No, that's not quite right...|C1_F1.5]]

You've been infused with the blood of a Wrath demon. They are considered dangreous demons, as they most embody the core of what a demon is: innate human desire gone awry. Demons of wrath come in two sub-categories: demons of vengeance and demons of malice. Vengeance demons seek out those who are weak and who have faced injustice and cruelty. They start well-intentioned, possessing the person to gift them to rage necessary to avenge themselves. Alas, they stop at nothing until the human has been //avenged,// regardless of how many are killed, or how. Demons of malice seek those who already foster violence in their hearts, and simply throw fuel into the fire, possessing them and commiting heinous acts that bring joy to the possessed human and demon alike... until the human inevitably dies. Demons are careless with their puppets, after all. You are capable of much the same. Anger is an emotion that you are well-acquainted with—you know its depths, its nuances… its dangers. It is always within you, simmering and waiting to burst out into flames, consuming you and all who happen to be near. At your best, you’re a pinnacle of justice—your anger that of righteous fury. At your worst… At your worst, you are vindictive, cruel, and self-destructive to the detriment of all around you. You were once capable of wielding minor fire magic, and when you were filled with anger... //Oh,// you could've sworn you were untouchable. Wrath demons are known for having skin in shades of red, sharp pointy horns, and hair resembling flames. When angered, their hair truly does ignite into fire. Their eyes are usually shades of gold or red. *[[It's fit you, well enough.|C1_F2]] *[[No, that's not quite right...|C1_F1.5]]

You've been infused with the blood of a Gluttony demon. They are considered one of the most dangerous species of demons due to being incredibly difficult to spot until it's too late. They are hedonistic, creatures, hungry to experience all that life has to offer. They are considered to be //very// dangerous, often compared to fae in their jovial malice. Gluttony demons often wear glamor to appear like simple humans. They might appear like an excited, overindulgent individual, often at parties or large festivals where recklessness is encouraged. They rope those around them into their celebrations. It starts with harmless drinks and feast, but they will push and push and //push// until those around them cannot physically indulge any more. And then they'll simply force them to continue anyhow. Demons of Gluttony are capable of sending people into manic, delirious frenzies where they become completely detached from the real world until it's too late. They find joy in the suffering //and// joy of those around them. Nothing quite tickles a Gluttony demon's fancy like wreaking havoc. You are capable of much the same. You're one of the few people in this world who knows how to //really// have a good time. Good food? Fine wine? Endless pleasure and limitless joy? They say you’re chasing the dragon—that you’re insatiable. To you, that’s only a challenge. Besides, you have a way of seeking out people who have the means necessary to satiate your appetite… for whiles, anyway. You are capable of easily manipulating others in slow increments. You know what they say. Too much of a good thing... Demons of Gluttony are known for being incredibly vibrant creatures beneath their glamor. Their horns are usually in intricate patterns, their skin ranging in multiple vibrant shades from bright orange to pink to teal. Their eyes and hair follow similar color patterns, their hair sometimes even appearing glittery, or an ombre of colors. They do not have irises or pupils. *[[It's fit you, well enough.|C1_F2]] *[[No, that's not quite right...|C1_F1.5]]

You've been infused with the blood of a Greed demon. They are considered mildly dangerous, due to the fact any sensical human knows better than to indulge in a Greed demon's offers. But if one is foolish enough to do so, whether it be out of naivety or arrogance... Greed demons seek out those who already have the sin within them. Kings, politicans, nobility who pinch pennies. Some say they're karmic creatures. Their very bodies are made of wealth. Skin fashioned out of precious metals, hair of silk, eyes of diamons and rubies. Their deals are most simple, most rigid. They offer money, allow themselves to be butchered. Eyes plucked out from their skulls to sell or fashion into necklaces, horns sawed off for much the same, hair cut and limbs sawed free, blood fashioned of countless, tiny diamonds. The Greed demon gives the person a time limit before they must “repay their debt with flesh,” which can range from a week to years. The shorter the limit, the better (usually), as the person is given less time to do damage. Much like any debtor, they always get back what they've lost. An eye for an eye, a limb for a limb. Unfortunately for many, Greed demons are capable of regeneration. Most humans are //not.// You are capable of much the same. Once, your eyes shined like gems. Once, your horns were made of diamond. Once, you could have a limb torn free and regrow it in the same hour. But now... well, for //now// you are stagnant. Capable of little beyond the impish fiends you control as a high-ranking demon, and the pained aches on your back from where your wings have been taken from you. Demons of Greed are known for coming in various appearances, but always being made of precious materials, like silk, metal, gems, and more. *[[It's fit you, well enough.|C1_F2]] *[[No, that's not quite right...|C1_F1.5]]

You've been infused with the blood of a phoenix from the Pillar of Hell, phoenixes who once served the now dead god, //Death,// alongside phoenixes of Eternity. Phoenixes from this pillar are known to reside in the underworld, acting as pseudo-grim reapers to those passing into the afterlife. They are known for having ''blue flames'' made of hellfire. Their tears corrupt and rot instead of heal, and their flames are rumored to burn hotter than most. Phoenixes from this pillar are rarely seen. Many fear them, as usually wherever a Phoenix of Hell is, death will soon come to follow. As a Phoenix of Hell, you may find fellow //mythosi// who reside in Hell to hold a certain, begrudging respect towards you, higher-ranking demons included. You might even have a certain sense of //dread,// being able to foretell when death or large-scale tragedy may occur. A curse, and a blessing. *[[It's fit you, well enough.|C1_F2]] *[[No, that's not quite right...|C1_F1.5]]

You've been infused with the blood of a phoenix from the Pillar of the Undying, phoenixes who once served the now dead god, //Life.// Phoenixes from this pillar were known to reside in the fae-wilds, acting as healers and "witches". Phoenixes of the Undying have a natural predispotion to healing and nature magic. They are knwon for having ''green flames'' which do not cause harm to those around them. Along with having healing tears, they are able to heal others with incantations and blood magic. Phoenixes from this pillar are often confused with fae of the seelie court due to residing in the wilds and having similar appearances to fairies. However, unlike fae, phoenixes of the Undying are inherently good, seeking to heal those who are deserving and offer second chances to those who are not. Animals and nature may hold a certain... fondness, towards you. *[[It's fit you, well enough.|C1_F2]] *[[No, that's not quite right...|C1_F1.5]]

You've been infused with the blood of a phoenix from the Pillar of Aquina, phoenixes who once served the now dead god, //Sorrow.// Phoenixes from this pillar were known to reside in Sorrow's temples hidden deep underwater, acting as shepherds to lost souls and helping them find inner peace and respite. They are knwon for having ''purple flames'' that persist underwater, and having the ability to breathe and swim under water. Phoenixes from this pillar are rare, and many considered them non-existent, as only Sorrow's followers would ever see them, hidden deep under the surface. You may have some serpetine or aquatic features, including fins, gills, and scales, and will have access to some areas others will not. *[[It's fit you, well enough.|C1_F2]] *[[No, that's not quite right...|C1_F1.5]]

You've been infused with the blood of a phoenix from the Pillar of Faith, phoenixes who once served the now dead god, //Joy.// Phoenixes from this pillar are known for being fae-like in their joy and expression, and holding a nearly unwavering level of optimism regardless of circumstance. Phoenixes of Faith are known for having ''pink flames,'' and strange, ethereal appearnces ranging from glittery skin, colorful eyes without iris or pupil, and firey-wings that resemble insect wings more than their avian counterparts. Phoenix from this pillar are often confused with fae of the seelie court due to having similar appearances and demeanors to fairies. Similar to fae, phoenixes of Faith have the ability to glamor and use illusion magic, and have the ability to manipulate the emotions of those around them into feeling good. //Happy.// Regardless of circumstance. *[[It's fit you, well enough.|C1_F2]] *[[No, that's not quite right...|C1_F1.5]]

You've been infused with the blood of a phoenix from the Pillar of the Light, phoenixes who once served the now dead god, //Light.// These were the original phoenixes, created by Light's desire for agents of righteousness and justice. Phoenixes from this pillar are considered the most "pure" of phoenixes, as they are the closest to the original god. All other variations of phoenixes have been corrupted or taken by the other gods' desires and whims, changing them from their original purpose: to lead mortals without judgment, and instill the law of Light upon them. Light is a god where penance and suffering is divine, for the sake of the better good. Phoenixes themselves were created to fulfill this idea—creatures that are forced to undergo a painful rebirth for the rest of the time, creatures that lose sense of emotion from the duration of their existence, creatures without selfishness or personal desire. Phoenixes from this pillar are known for having ''red, orange, and yellow wings'' of classic fire. This verson of the Phoenix is most plentiful, and is seen as a divine symbol of Light, and therefor justice. It was once rumored wherever a Phoenix flew, the "righteous" would win. Phoenixes of Light reside in the Spires, a large, rocky island hidden in the depths of Navara, said to only be capable of being reached by those who can breach its magical barriers. *[[It's fit you, well enough.|C1_F2]] *[[No, that's not quite right...|C1_F1.5]]

You've been infused with the blood of a phoenix from the Pillar of Eternity, phoenixes who once served the now dead god, //Death,// alongside phoenixes of Hell. Phoenixes from this pillar reside in the Heavens themselves, acting as something akin to angels and grim-reapers, leading those passing into the afterlife. They are knwon for having ''pure white or gold flames'' made of sheer radiance. Phoenixes of Eternity make their hellish counterparts and those residing from the Hells experience severe discomofort and even pain. Phoenixes from this pillar work alongside true angels, and have the ability to sense when those around them are corrupt or injust, regardless of what magic is used. *[[It's fit you, well enough.|C1_F2]] *[[No, that's not quite right...|C1_F1.5]]

Your blood is forcefully intertwined with thousands of years of evolution, with the most ancient forms of magic that are left in this dying realm. <<if $beast eq "wolf">>You're not just //a// werewolf. You were deemed most suitable with the blood of... *[[Dire wolves.|C1_W1]] *[[Arctic wolves.|C1_W2]] *[[Coastal wolves.|C1_W3]] *[[Timber wolves.|C1_W4]] *[[Maned wolves.|C1_W5]] *[[Red wolves.|C1_W6]]<<elseif $beast eq "gorgon">>You're not just //a// gorgon. You were deemed most suitable with the blood of... *[[Elapid snakes.|C1_G1]] *[[Sea Snakes.|C1_G2]] *[[Vipers.|C1_G3]] *[[Colubrids.|C1_G4]] *[[Boas.|C1_G5]]<<elseif $beast eq "demon">>You're not just //a// demon. You were deemed most suitable with the blood of... *[[Pride demons.|C1_D1]] *[[Envy demons.|C1_D2]] *[[Lust demons.|C1_D3]] *[[Sloth demons.|C1_D4]] *[[Wrath demons.|C1_D5]] *[[Gluttony demons.|C1_D6]] *[[Greed demons.|C1_D7]]<<else>>You're not just //a// phoenix. You were deemed most suitable with the blood of phoenixes hailing from... *[[The Pillar of Hell.|C1_P1]] *[[The Pillar of the Undying.|C1_P2]] *[[The Pillar of Aquina.|C1_P3]] *[[The Pillar of Faith.|C1_P4]] *[[The PIllar of Light.|C1_P5]] *[[The PIllar of Eternity.|C1_P6]]<</if>>

<<set $nikke_h to "face">><<set $nikke_h2 to "out">>You've little time for mercy, and he knows it. His gaze hardens, his glowing gaze following the arc of your sword as you raise it above your head. His gaze hardens as he looks at you, watching as you raise the sword above your head— "$name!" //Vethna.// Your head whips around toward the sound of their voice, your foot stomping down //hard// on the side of the man's head. His head makes a thud when it collides with the ground, his eyes rolling back before he's knocked out cold. <center>[[Continue.|C1_N2_2]]</center>

You stop your onslaught of punches to grab the front of his vest, slamming him down to the ground as hard as you can as you lean over him. "Listen asshole," you spit. "I don't need another town putting a wanted poster on my head for comitting homicide in their town. So i'd //strongly// recommend sitting your ass here and staying put." He doesn't seem to be listening much to you, considering his attempts to wriggle free continue. Slippery fuck. "I //said// stay put," you growl. "Or what?" He grins up at you, some kind of masochistic delight in his eyes. <<if $beast eq "gorgon">><<set $nikke_h2 to "out">>Your lips peel back as you let out a rattling hiss in his face. Nikke just laughs in response. "You think that scares me?" he asks, hissing right back at you before clamping his teeth shut in a snarling bite. You rear back, disgust painting your features. You should know by now not to play nice. You're only response is to throw him back to the ground, jumping to your feet to slam your foot //hard// down on his skull. He's out in an instant.<<elseif $beast eq "wolf">>You peel back your teeth to bare your fangs, a //deep// rumbling growl stirring in your chest. You unleash it as a snarl in the man's face, drool threatening to drip from your maw as gnash your teeth inches from his face. He scowls, lips pulling into a frown as he eyes your teeth warily. "Ya know," you growl, "I could just eat ya up whole right here." Your claws dig into the wooden floor until it splinters. It's a threat, and yet just //speaking// the words aloud awaken some awful, terrible, //hungry// part of you. "Never tasted //snake// before." You can see his face go white. He goes to glare at you only to be met by a feral, animalistic gaze... and it's only then that he concedes. His hands lift in surrender as you release him, watching his chest heave with his panicked breaths. Still. There's a look in his eyes. Dark, vengeful. He knows when he's been beat, but this isn't over. Not by a longshot.<<elseif $beast eq "phoenix">>You slam your hand down beside his face in frustration, the veins beneath your skin glowing a bright and vibrant orange. You don't mean to, but a burst of flames erupts from your palm and climbs up your forearm before dissipating, nearly searing the gorgon's face off in the process. He lets out a laugh. "Someone can't keep themselves under control." "You think that's funny?" You hiss. Your vision goes red, and suddenly you are met with the pained screams of your enemies... of your //friends//, fighting desperately in your grasp as you burn through their skin. "Me?" he repeats, smiling. "Oh, I think it's //hilarious.//" Fine. The snake wants to play? You'll play. Your hand reaches out for him, flames licking your fingertips. Your pupils are pinpricks and some part of you is so undeniably //manic// that nothing in this moment feels real now. "Do you know what burning flesh smells like?" you ask. "Do you know how it melts? How it sticks to my palms if I touch it? Like goopy tar." You reach for his face, and his hand braces against your chest to try to keep you at bay. It's a fruitless task. You simply opt to grab his wrist instead. A pained growl escapes him immediately. Everyone's reaction is the same. Eyes widening, fear painting their features. You are an extension of nature. Of wrath. Of chaos. You are //undeniable.// And he knows as much. You haven't even held his wrist for a full five seconds before he's kicking you off of him as hard as he can— "fine!" he blurts. He falls back against the ground, going to touch the wound on his arm before realizing he //can't,// the skin inflamed and raw. "Fine," he breathes, his eyes meeting yours. His chest heaves with his breaths, and he eyes you in a different light. Like you're a threat. A real one. Gods. A part of you //missed// being feared. Still. There's a look in his eyes. Dark, vengeful. He knows when he's been beat, but this isn't over. Not by a longshot.<<else>>You glare at the man. He wants to play? Fine. But he can't say you didn't warn him. You focus on the constant murmuring whispers that you often keep at bay, jeering and cruel, accompanied by sadistic laugher. //Imps// and lesser demons. You feel the ghost of a hand wrap around your neck, freezing and rough. It tightens around you in a way you cannot tell is meant to be loving or cruel, a honeyed voice singing to you the fears, the //weaknesses// of this gorgon before you. Your eyes gleam the second they're done. You know his secrets, or at least a valuable one, and lean in closer to the man. His face is pale. He must've heard it, too. The cacophonous whispers. But to him, they're no more than eldritch murmurings. "You don't think I know where you're from?" You ask, a clawed hand digging into the wooden floor. "You don't think I'll hunt down your clan and kill every single one of them? Cut them from navel to neck?" You purr out the words as a sultry promise, your gaze boring through him. Ire flares up within him. Fear. //Dread.// You've beaten him. He's useless to protect his family from you. You rise to stand, already knowing you've won. "You're lying," he breathes. His voice is guttural. Tight. "Am I? Wanna make a bet on it?" You extend your hand to him, his eyes flittering to it in distaste before he swallows thick. He doesn't reply. Just looks off to the side instead. "Smart choice."<</if>> The pride of your win doesn't last for long, however. <center>[[Continue.|C1_N2_2]]</center>

<<set $vethna -3>><<notify 5s>>Vethna didn't like that.<</notify>>You jolt upright the second Vethna's hands near you, a snarl pulling at your lips. "Don't touch me," you snap. Their eyes widen, but their hands pull away in surrender, gaze searching yours. Your chest heaves, annoyance flairing through you. You shouldn't be surprised by this. Vethna's a //Vygrander.// You know as well as anyone this, //blood magic,// is as natural to them as breathing. Hells, if anything, you're lucky they haven't been bloodletting you in your sleep to grow more powerful. "$name, please," they plead. You shake your head before they can even get the words out, and you see the frustration that paints itself on their features. "You're //hurt.// You need //help.//" "From you?" You say the word //you// as if they're some vile, //dark// thing, and you watch as not a second later their expression crumples as if striked. Their brows knit together, lips pulling into a frown... and then their hands lower, fisting the fabric of their gown until their knuckles go white. It's quiet between you. Sickeningly so. There's a pit in your stomach as you're forced to listen to birdsong to fill the silence. <center>[[Continue.|C1_F1A_C2]]</center>

<<set $sarcasm ++>>"This is the part where you tell me it's not that bad," you joke, propping yourself up on your elbows. It hurts, but it's nothing new. You're used to your body being torn apart and put back together again. Vethna's brows furrow at your comment, clearly not finding the humor in them. "Oh, come on. I'm fine," You murmur, rolling your eyes as you pat your thigh. "Just throw a bandage on it and I'll be good to go." You haven't gotten hurt much in the course of being with Vethna. You've yet to face a Vygrander, nonetheless magic-hunters. And the assassins, or bounty hunters, or //whatever// in the hells those gorgons were... Well. The were an anomaly. "No, I can... I think I should be able to heal it," Vethna murmurs. "Just stay... still." They don't sound very confident in themselves. "Reassuring," you mumble. <center>[[Continue.|C1_F1A_2]]</center>

<<set $aggressive ++>>"Fuckin' bastard," you snarl the second you see the wound. Your head falls back onto the dirt, your eyes focusing on the leaves above you as you try to quell your temper. You can't believe you'd been so //stupid,// letting him get the jump on you, turning your //back// on him. You're rusty, and you know it. And now you don't have your muted //mythosi// blood to blame. It's been too long since you've had to fight. //Really// fight. Even with Vethna, you've yet to face another Vygrander, nonetheless magic-hunters. And the assassins, or bounty hunters, or //whatever// in the hells those gorgons were... Well. The were an anomaly. "Stay still," Vethna murmurs. "I think... I think I can heal it." You haven't gotten injured much with Vethna. Certainly not enough to warrant //healing// before. It makes you pause, propping yourself up on your elbows to eye them warily. "You //think//?" you mutter. They give you an exasperated look, though you see the traces of something else there. Guilt? It only makes your scowl deepen. <center>[[Continue.|C1_F1A_2]]</center>

<<set $genuine ++>>Your eyes flicker between your wound and Vethna's features. You'd think someone born and raised in Vygrand would be used to the sight of gore, nonetheless one as high-ranking as Vethna undoubtedly must be. Blood magic is their life and blood in that cursed capital. Surely they've seen //worse.// "Stay still," Vethna murmurs. "I think... I think I can heal it." You haven't gotten injured much with Vethna. Certainly not enough to warrant //healing// before. It makes you pause, propping yourself up on your elbows to eye them warily. "You //think//?" you mutter. They glance at you from the corner of their gaze, a mixture of exasperation and guilt playing on their features. Gods forbid you be worried about them mangling your leg even worse. <center>[[Continue.|C1_F1A_2]]</center>

<<set $stoic ++>>"I'm fine," you mutter, pulling your leg closer to you. You bite back the grimace that threatens to take over at the sudden jolt. Vethna's eyes widen a bit before they look at you, and you can tell in an instant they don't believe you. They give you that gods-awful chastising look of yours, like you're a petty child, their left eye twitching a bit. "$name." They say you're name like that alone should have you bending to their will. "Look at yourself," they drawl, "you really think we're going to get far with you limping away on a mauled leg?" "I've been through worse." You regret your words the second you say them. The weight behind them, although unintentional, is a heavy one. Sure, you've been through worse. //Much// worse. But that was back when you were strong. Powerful. Capable of it all. Now? You're a wash up, and you're more likely to drop dead from infection than succumbing to wounds. You avoid looking at Vethna. You don't want to face their pitying stare. Instead, you simply stick your leg out once more, ignoring Vethna as their gentle hands peel the fabric of your pants up higher to access the gory cut. "Just... stay still," they murmur. You nod. Barely. <center>[[Continue.|C1_F1A_2]]</center>

<<set $C1_fight to 3>><<if $nikke_h2 eq "out">>You turn your attention back to the man's unconcious form collapsed on ground, lips parted, drool and blood leaking from his mouth. It's dirty. But it could work. You crouch over him, placing your knife against his throat, whistling to capture the woman's attention. Her and Vethna both snap their gaze to look at you, their struggle continuing as the gorgon takes in the sight before her. You, her brother unconcious beneath you, the knife placed so roughly against his throat you've cut him... She snarls. Grips Vethna by their hair and //yanks// it back, Vethna gnashing their teeth in response. A laugh escapes her. A //laugh.// It's a manic, throaty thing, her eyes gleaming in the darkness. Her pupils are blown out. Wide, angry... "Go on then. //Do it,//" she spits. "We can both get our licks in, then." She unsheathes her dagger, and it's only now you realize she never had a weapon out while fighting Vethna. Her blade goes to Vethna's throat as they swallow thick, their expression hardened. But you know panic when you see it, even when it's hidden behind several layers of forced composure. Her dagger hovers over their throat. It's nearly imperceptible, but her hand is shaking, knuckles white. It clicks then as you tilt your head. She won't hurt Vethna. For whatever reason, she //can't.// It's a gut feeling, and yet you've never felt more sure of anything in your life. The twitch of your bicep is all the reveal that you're about to slit his throat, and just like that, the woman harshly throws Vethna towards you. They scramble, off-balance, collapsing right into your arms as they trip. You catch them, barely. But not a second later, the woman's running at you. She just doesn't know when she's lost, has she? Like a snake, swallowing itself whole.<<else>>Your eyes flicker to the man's injured form, and his eyes immediately meet yours. He scowls. It's like he can read your mind, and he snarls at you before you force him onto his stomach, straddling him as you bring your knife to his neck. "Fuckin'—" he dissolves into a series of curse words you don't recognize, and that alone catches the attenion of Vethna and the woman. Their gazes go to you both, the woman's expression souring the second she sees your knife against his neck. She snarls at him in that snake-like language, her grip on Vethna faltering. Your eyes meet theirs, glowing, frantic. //Stay put,// They swallow thick. But they abide you, staying frozen like a fawn. The woman's gaze focuses on you. You can see the gears turning in her head. She's torn. Doesn't know what to do. //Good.// You just need a second of a mistake. A fraction, even, will do. She releases Vethna. Throws them to the ground as harshly as they can, sending them to the ground with an 'oomph.' She charges at you next, tackling you off of her brother and to the ground. The air's stolen from your lungs as she snaps her fangs in your face, your hands braced against her shoulders.<</if>> <center>[[Continue.|C1_N2_2A2]]</center>

Your patience is wearing thin. You want this fight //over// and Vethna safe. That alone has you charging towards the woman, wasting no time to tackle into her torso. She's taken off-guard, and you use it to your advantage, wrestling with her, tilting her off-balance. <<if $height eq "very tall" or "tall">><<set $jost_res +5>><<if $height eq "very tall">>She attempts to dig her feet into the ground, but it's futile. You're taller than her, and your grip on her tightens as you wrangle her, avoiding her venomous fangs as if she's some sort of rabid beast. You wrestle her closer to the window, arms wrapped around her waist, and with little warning, you're all but throwing her out of it. The window's break, a yell escaping her lips as she falls into the cold rushing water of the streets. You doubt the fall was enough to do much damage to a //mythosi// like her, but you have time.<<else>>She attempts to dig her feet into the ground, but you're just as tall as she is, capable of wrangling her towards the window in the room. The two you push and pull, this way and that. She slams you into a dresser, but you're quick to recover, shoving her on the shoulders //hard.// And right out the window in the room. The window's clasp breaks, the shutters falling open, a yell escaping the woman's liips as she falls into the cold rushing water of the streets. You doubt the fall was enough to do much damage to a //mythosi// like her, but you have time.<</if>> "We need to get out of here," you breath. Vethna looks focused. Just not on you. Their gaze is glued to the man on the ground, their hand twitching by their side as you try to figure out the best course of action, pacing about the room. Do you just stay here? Do you try to get on the roof? It's slippery, though. You don't think Vethna would be able to keep their balance, neither— Vethna marches past you then, their brows furrowed, going right to the man is on the ground. <<if $nikke_h eq "face" or "bite">>His gaze narrows at them, and you watch as Vethna unsheathes one of the ornamental daggers strapped to their thigh, under their dress. "The fuck are you—" The man's snarl is cut short when Vethna abruptly slices him across the forearm. Teal blood seeps from his arm, the blade drinking up the liquid, storing it in a hollowed out gem in the hilt that starts to glow.<<else>>They grip his limp arm in theirs, abruptly slicing him across the forearm. Teal blood seeps from the man's arm, the blade drinking up the liquid, storing it in a hollowed out gem in the hilt that starts to glow.<</if>> Blood magic. "What the //hells// are you doing?" you breathe. Your hair stands on end, bile stirring in your gut. Vethna looks at you. "This," they breathe, holding up the blade. "This is how we get out of here." You don't get the chance to protest. Don't even get the chance to suck in a full breath before they're reaching out, clasping your hand in theirs tight. You feel their magic before you see it. Overwhelming, heady like incense, expanding and collapsing into itself in a fog of purple mist that consumes everything in the room, everything in your vision. You feel like you're falling, or flying, or maybe both, and then you're just... <center>[[Gone.|C1_F1_A]]</center><<else>>But she's bigger than you, taller. Her feet dig into the ground, and your grip on her tightens as you wrangle her closer to the window. You barely manage to avoid her venomous fangs, and right as you manage to push her against the window frame to shove her out... Her arms wrap around your waist. And just like that, you're tumbling off-balance along with her. She trips backwards, her sharp claws shredding through your skin, and you narrowly miss smacking your head on the window sill before you're both falling. Your stomach plummets. You both clutch at each other, the woman curling into herself to brace for the impact, and soon you're both plunging into freezing water. You feel the air stolen from you, and it takes //everything// in you to not immediately breathe in, fumbling blindly for the surface. The water is filthy, so cold it burns your eyes, and when you surface you gasp for air. Not a second later, you feel a clawed hand //ripping// at your leg, threatening to yank you underwater. Okay. Maybe this wasn't the smartest idea. <<if $beast eq "gorgon">>Gorgons are great fighters in water. And you? Your blood's a little //stale// to have the same advantage.<<else>>Gorgons are great fighters in the water. You? Not so much.<</if>> You suck in a sharp breath before letting yourself be pulled under. You fumble, hand going to grip your dagger and rip it free. Your other hand searches in the water, blindly managing to grip a fistul of hair. You use it to pull the woman closer, and it seems you both have the same idea—you blindly stab at the water until you hit something, red blossoming in the water—and the woman sinks his teeth //deep// into your thigh after clawing at your boots. You feel the burn of her venom a second later. <center>[[Continue.|C1_N2_2BB]]</center><</if>>

Your eyes meet Vethna's. They hold your stare, and to their credit, their gaze is half-downcast, expression calm. The plan's obvious. The two of you have been stuck in close proximity day-in and day-out for over a month now, and you don't need to say a word before Vethna's reluctantly meeting the woman's gaze, a scowl on their face. "You should be embarrassed, you know," Vethna murmurs, pretending to be coy as a mischevious smile curls at the corner of their lips. "An assassin like you shouldn't struggle so much with a sorcerer like me." They laugh in fake amusement as you creep closer, form crouched low, knife clutched tight in your hand. The woman sneers. A hiss escapes her, and you watch as her hand reels back in a closed fist. <<if $nikke_h eq "face" or "bite">>Vethna blinches. You nearly lunge to attack. Someone beats you to the attempt. <center>[[Continue.|C1_N2_2CA]]</center><<else>>Vethna flinches. You nearly lunge to attack. But her close fist punches the wall beside their head harmlessly instead, her chest heaving in annoyance. "You talk. Too. Fucking. //Much,//" the woman sneers. "Well, we all have our faults," Vethna muses. "Like you. Depending on your brother a bit too much, no?" You're right on her tail. And just like that, you're //on// her. <center>[[Continue.|C1_N2_2CB]]</center><</if>>

<<set $jost_h to "stabbed">><<set $jost_res +5>>Vethna comes to your aid. They have a dagger in hand, and you watch with wide eyes as they embed it right into the woman's side. She stiffens above you, muscles tensing and pupils shrinking—and then she's snarling, gnashing her teeth, spinning in an attempt to sink her fangs into Vethna's arm. They scramble back, falling to the ground with a thud. "The knife—$name, get the knife—!" Vethna blurts out between panicked sounds. Your eyes land on the blade still in the woman's torso. It's glowing now, the little hollowed out gems on the hilt filled with the teal blood of the gorgon. //Fuck you.// You don't want to lay hands on some blood magic device, and yet here you are, grabbing a fistful of the woman's hair and slamming her face into the ground to keep her pinned. You grab the dagger and rip it out, ignoring the pained shuddering gasp that leaves the woman beneath you. You nod at Vethna, tossing it into their hands. "We're getting out of here," they whisper, more to themself than you. Their eyes flash to meet yours as you keep the woman pinned. "You //fuckers//—!" she snaps. Her voice is unhinged, manic. She wrestles against you like a wild and injured beast, frothing at the mouth. Not so tough now, are they? Vethna grabs your hand. You feel their magic before you see it. Overwhelming, heady like incense, expanding and collapsing into itself in a fog of purple mist that consumes everything in the room, everything in your vision. You feel like you're falling, or flying, or maybe both, and then you're just... <center>[[Gone.|C1_F1_A]]</center>

He must see the switch in your demeanor since his own gaze hardens. You grab onto the gorgon's arm, <<if $beast eq "wolf">>your strength easily outmatching his, gripping so tightly that his bone might as well just //snap.//<<else>>strength matching his.<</if>> He struggles to rip himself from your grasp, but it's too late. Your dagger comes down onto his shoulder, dark teal blood seeping from the open wound and staining the water around you. The smell of iron sets your senses alight in the best of ways, a shiver wracking down your spine. "$name!" You don't look immediately, knowing //damn// well how hard it is to get a //mythosi// to stay down. It isn't until the gorgon lets out a hiss of pain, falling onto his knees as you struggle to push and keep him beneath the water that you look up. Vethna watches you, a strange look in their eyes. "We've got to go! //Now!"// "Just let me—" Before you can finish your sentence Vethna jumps out the window, magic slowing their descent until they're beside you, gaze flickering to where you're attempting to drown the gorgon. "We don't have time for this," they spit, gripping onto a broken wagon to keep their balance in the currents. "No... no, you really don't," a feminine voice speaks. Low. Dangerous. Barely breaking through the sounds of the storm. //Fuck me.// <center>[[Continue.|C1_41A_DA4]]</center>

<center><span class="imgb"><img src="images/Act I/INTRO_Jost.png"></span></center> You look to the alleyway and out steps the other gorgon: the missing half of the duo. You grab the throat of the one you've kept beneath the water, lifting him up only to shove him in the direction of his partner. "Want me to do to you what I did to him?" you ask, grabbing Vethna as softly as you can in your state (which must still be pretty rough considering how they hiss in discomfort), moving them behind you. She smiles at that, and you watch in horror as she stalks closer, skin fading into large and deep green scales. You walk backward, listening to bones snap and muscles stretch, her pained scream turning into a low and monstrous hiss that rumbles throughout your entire body. You blink, the heavy rain obscuring your vision. You don't even want to try and figure out how long that fucking snake is. Thirty feet? //Forty//? It could swallow you and Vethna whole. And you //really// could go without experiencing that. <center>[[Continue.|C1_41_A_DA5]]</center>

You're only shaken out of your stupor when Vethna grips your arm, their sharpened nails biting into your skin as they force you to look at them. Their hair is stuck to their face, eyes filled with levels of ambition and desperation you've yet to see before. "$name, I— I can get us out of here," they rasp. "You just... you //have// to trust me." Their eyes are wide. Pleading. Something about it unsettles you, has your stomach rolling. They must notice, since their brows furrow, their hands reaching out to squeeze your shoulders. //"Trust me."// *[['"Okay."'|C1_41_A_DA5_A]] *[["I do trust you,but..." You have tricks up your sleeve, too. You just didn't want to use them ever again.|C1_41_A_DA5_B]] *[['"I can\'t."'|C1_41_A_DA5_C]]

<<set $mc_h to "river">>You swallow down the doubt in your chest, giving Vethna a single, decisive nod. "Okay," you breathe. You can see the relief, the //disbelief,// on their face. And then it hardens, their eyes flickering between yours before it drops. The rain water rushes down their face. The river rushes. And Vethna sucks in a sharp, shaking breath. "I'm sorry in advance," they whisper. One of their hands rip a dagger from a holster around their thigh, beneath their gown. The other rips the leather bracer on your arm. In one swift movement, they've slashed a //deep// arc into your arm. Blood spills. So much. So, //so// much. The dagger in their hand glows, drinking it up eagerly. You feel Vethna's hands grip your shoulders as your vision threatens to tunnel. Everything is so cold, so wet, so //dizzying.// They're speaking in a laguage you cannot comprehend. Ancient, magical, and soon you're shrouded in a cool, purple mist. And then everything is just... //Dark.// <center>[[Continue.|C1_F1_A]]<center>

"I do trust you, I just..." You shake your head, unable to find the words. This isn't about them. It's about proving something to yourself. You're supposed to be something, //someone// great. So why do you keep running? Vethna's expression crumples into one of confusion as they watch you turn your back on them. "You're not the only one who has tricks up their sleeve," you state. Your eyes focus on the snake coming closer. She's taking her time. Toying with you as a long, pink tongue flickers out from the lips of the snake, smelling you. Your anxiety. Your //fear.// //You can handle this.// You just might break yourself trying to do so. <center>[[Shift.|C1_41_A_DA6]]</center>

That expression on their face. You've seen it before. You've //worn// it before. Desperate, violent. "I can't," you breathe. Vethna's brows furrow, something like resignation and hurt crossing their features all at once. Like they want to blame you for your own doubt, but can't. "I can handle this, Vethna," you reassure. They just look at you, eyes wide, as if struck, watching you as you turn your back to them. Your eyes focus on the snake coming closer. She's taking her time. Toying with you as a large, pink tongue flickers out from the lips of the snake, smelling you. Your anxiety. Your //fear.// //You can handle this.// You just might break yourself trying to do so. <center>[[Shift.|C1_41_A_DA6]]</center>

<<set $mythosi + 5>><<set $mc_h to "transformed">>You promised yourself you'd never do this again. You //swore// it. Your body isn't built to withstand this sort of power anymore. But you swore other things, too. To protect the innocent. To protect your comrades. All of them, broken oaths. What's one more thrown under the table? <<if $beast eq "gorgon">>You clench and unclench your fists, stretching out your fingers. You roll your shoulders back as you yawn, feeling your own jaw clicking, unhinging before snapping back into place again. It aches. Every part of you //aches.// Your skin feels tighter. Too tight. Tough to move in as patches of calluses form, hardening and thickening into large scales that rip through flesh gone raw. The pain makes you want to //scream//, but all that comes out is a deep, rattling hiss, venom salty and bitter upon your tongue.<<elseif $beast eq "wolf">>You clench and unclench your fists, stretching out your fingers. Your gums ache when you drag your tongue along your mouth, teeth wiggling and loose as you apply pressure against them. You prod harder, one tooth after the other falling free, filling your mouth like calcium-riddled candy before you spit them out into the water, red dripping from your slobbering, red maw. New teeth grow in their place. Bigger. Sharper. Pushing through the pulsing ache of your mouth in a pleasure-riddled pain.<<elseif $beast eq "phoenix">>You clench and unclench your fists before you rub your hands together, trying to find warmth in the cold. Your skin glows orange, and you feel it, festering with you. A heat that's quickly turning unbearable. It grows, and //grows//, stoked beneath your will. You're burning from the inside out. It feels like your flesh may begin to melt at any given second, the water around you beginning to bubble and broil. Your tonue feels dry, your throat raw as you cough out a plume of smoke.<<else>>You clench and unclench your fists, stretching out your fingers. Your vision flickers, the darkness suddenly seeming not so dark, the whispers of your demonic //friends// all the more prominent. Their shadows dance in the corner of your vision. You can almost hear the whispers of the gorgon's thoughts. Her soul is almost yours for the taking. //Almost.//<</if>> //"Ay! Look, it's the ole' $title $himself!"// . . . what? //They welcome you home with open arms. You haven't been home in so long. ''They've missed you.''// No. //They're all smiles and laughs. Some of them are young, late teens or so... Some you can remember training yourself, teaching them to widen their stance when they held a sword for the first time—// No. No, //no, ''no.''// *[["I didn't mean to do it!" you yell. You don't know who you're trying to convince.|C1_41_A_DA6A]] *[["I'm so sorry. It... it was an accident. I swear—" Your mind is spiraling, tears welling up within your eyes.|C1_41_A_DA6B]] *[[Freeze. You killed them. You're a murderer. You're a murderer.|C1_41_A_DA6C]] *[[You're shaking from fury, heart threatening to unravel right where you stand. You can feel the tears, and you know you're about to explode.|C1_41_A_DA6D]]

<<if $beast eq "wolf">>"I didn't mean to do it!" you roar. Your claws dig into the flesh of your face as you shake your head repeatedly. "I didn't!"<<elseif $beast eq "demon">>"I didn't mean to do it!" you scream, voice shrill. The demons scream with you, //mocking// you. //Sure you didn't,// they laugh. The water around you turns black. "I didn't!"<<elseif $beast eq "phoenix">>"I didn't mean to do it!" you yell, flames erupting from your hands as you tear at your hair. Your own skin sizzles from the sudden increase of tempearture. "I didn't!"<<else>>"I didn't mean to do it!" you yell, shaking your head as you tear at your hair. "I didn't!"<</if>> Sure, you felt off that night. But you just thought you were sick, or tired, or //anything// other than... than... //Fuck!// How were you supposed to //know?// It's not fair, //it's not fair, ''it's not fair!''// <center>[[Continue.|C1_41_A_DA7]]</center>

"I'm so, so sorry. It... it was an accident! I swear!" Your voice is raw as you hunch over, shaking your head back and forth and back and forth again as if that could erase the memory. You can't get their faces out of your mind. Their voices, their smiles, their god damned //screams.// You're crying. Sobbing. Hiccuping grotesquely in the storm. You killed them then. And you're too fucked up to even keep Vethna from being killed now. You weak, //pathetic// thing. <center>[[Continue.|C1_41_A_DA7]]</center>

Your breathing becomes heavy, your throat burning from the lump you can't seem to swallow down. Your head feels like a weight, your limbs light, and suddenly the freezing water doesn't feel all that cold anymore. Your legs threaten to give out entirely, leaving you to be swept away in the debris. You deserve it, don't you? To be forgotten. To rot. To just //die—// <center>[[Continue.|C1_41_A_DA7]]</center>

You're practically panting from how heavily you're breathing. Your chest feels like a ball of compressed anguish just waiting to be freed. Everything is too much and too little, the water too cold before feeling scalding. Where are you? Why are you here? You can make out a water droplet on Vethna's face, hear the sound of a cat mewling in the wind, but where//are// you? You don't understand. You //can't// understand. Oh god. It's happening all over— <center>[[Continue.|C1_41_A_DA7]]</center>

Arms. There are arms around your neck. Lithe, slender. The smell of jasmine and dirty rain water. //Hold $him down!// You're going to lose everything all over again. You're going to be stripped of everything. The voice was right—the fall from grace is painful, and you've yet to stop falling. //"What did you do?" she screams at you, shaking you by the lapels of your coat. ''"What did you just do?!"''// <center>[[It's cold and smooth. The blade that enters your skin.|C1_41_A_DA8]]</center>

You look down as warmth blossoms from your side. Red. Ruby-red. //Blood.// One of Vethna's blades sits in your side, their knuckles white from how tightly they clutch the thing. They rip it out, a squelching noise leaving the wound as the suction is broken. Your eyes meet theirs. They look scared. Or betrayed? Did you do something wrong? Your vision begins to go hazy, tunneling as you're hit by a bout of vertigo. The last thing you see is a mist of purple before you're falling back into Vethna's arms, the raging noise of the storm fading away into nothingness. <center>[[Continue.|C1_F1_A]]</center>

You pull out your sword, kicking the gorgon in the chest and sending him into the bed frame when he lunges for you. It's been... it's been a while since you've fought a //mythsoi// if you're being honest. There's been no reason to. Not since you... The man barks out a laugh, and your distraction gives him the chance to get back to his feet. He dodges your attempt to shove him back down, slipping under your arm, and just like that, he stands behind you. One arm wraps around your mid-section, the other holding a knife against your throat. You swallow thick, feeling the bite of the metal against your skin. "$name...?" Vethna stands across from you, wide-eyed. Their eyes are glued to yours, only momentarily looking away to the door as the woman continues to kick it in. "Ooh, this is awkward, isn't it?" the man laughs, pressing the blade harsher against your throat. You swallow thick. If he wanted you dead by now, he'd have killed you already. Either he //can't// kill you, or he just likes fucking around. *[[Try to get free.|C1_41A_4A]] *[[Make eye contact with Vethna. They should make a run for it.|C1_41A_4B]] ''X''

They peel your boot off enough to fully expose the wound. Your expressions mirror each other's in distaste at the blood seeping, the muscles beneath torn flesh twitching. Their hands press against you, <<if $beast eq "demon">>black<<else>>crimson<</if>> squelching between their fingers. They shut their eyes, their brows furrow in concentration... And they murmur. Words you can't understand, half-guttural and utterly incomphrensible. //Mavikras.// The ancient language. The daggers at their sides glow, and you watch as the remaining blood in them is greedily sucked up by the blades. You feel a cool, mist-like sensation along your skin. The throbbing sting of the cut fades away, turning into a numb, tingling feeling... and slowly, Vethna's hands pull away. Their palms are covered in blood, but the cut in your leg has been reduced to a scar, thin, silvery flesh where there was once a hole. "Shit," you breathe, sitting up. You find it ironic. Them using your blood to heal you. But you can't object to it's effectiveness, sitting up to run a finger over the injury. Your eyes flitter to look at Vethna. Their own gaze is downcast, refusing to meet your own as they swallow thick. You know what they're dreading. Your lecture. Your disproval. Healing you or not, they still used forbidden magic. <<include "C1_F1AC_1">>

Your teeth grit together as you suck in a sharp breath. There's a sharp, pulsing pain in your calf, and in spite of your stubborness, you draw your leg closer to you to inspect. The fabric of your pants is torn from the blade that had embedded itself into your skin, flesh torn and ripped, the sinew visible underneath twitching. "$name—" "Fuck," you mutter. You can feel Vethna's god-awful puppy eyes on you, all wide and waiting for you to forgive them. For you to let them //help// you. If you were anywhere else but //here// you would refuse them. Alas, being lost in the middle of the woods hardly grants you the stubborness of being able to refuse self-care. You won't get anywhere limping off through the wilderness. Your eyes meet Vethna's. Their eyes flicker between yours, and it's with a begrudging nod of your head that they scoot closer, hands slowly reaching out to peel the fabric of your pants up higher. "Just... stay still," they murmur. Obviously. The hells are you going to do? Get up and take off sprinting? <center>[[Continue.|C1_F1A_2]]</center>

They had no location in mind when they reached into the aether between realms. They blindly fumbled through matter, through space, and the second they found somewhere, they held onto it. The world spun. They felt their very being be pulled apart and put back together again. And when their eyes opened, they were... //somewhere,// Their clothes are soaking wet, shoes waterlogged. Their fingers are sticky with blood, the liquid gushing from $name's side, staining the ground <<if $beast eq "demon">>black<<else>>red<</if>>. The smell of it taints the air, and for one frantic second, Vethna is frozen. //You did it. You killed $him. You killed The $title.// Just when they thought their life couldn't possibly get any worse. They scramble to $name's side. Their hands rush to cover the wound in $his side despite the utter futility of it all. They had pierced $name's lungs, no doubt. A fatal wound. //Stupid. Stupid, stupid, ''stupid!''// They couldn't do anything right, could they? Even when they //want// to do good, they find themself here, holding a rigid, cold $name in their arms, shivers wracking through their lithe form. Their eyes flitter to the dagger beside them, clattered on the ground from where they dropped it. It still thrums with life. With magic. $name's blood sits in the hollowed out gems in its handle, and with shaking hands Vethna reaches over to pick it up. There's a special kind of irony to be found in healing someone with the same thing you used to wound them. To nearly //kill// them with. For how many years has their homeland craved just that? They could let $name die here. Return home a hero. They could go //home// a hero. For a long moment, Vethna stares at the blade. $name is quiet as the life seeps out from them. The ground grows darker with blood, and a million thoughts cloud their mind. But then a choked, sputtering sound escapes $name. $His2 body convulses, body coughing up blood. Their body moves on its own. Their hands reach out to press against the wound. Their eyes squeeze shut. They focus on the magic in the blade, letting it lead the path to closing the wound. Their magic seeps into $name, pours into them, threading jagged flesh back together again. Vethna's hands pull away. Blood-soaked. Trembling. But the wound is shut. <center>[[Continue.|C1_F1B_3]]</center>

You're quiet, letting Vethna pull off your hand that covers the cut. It's clean, ''deep'', blood spurting from severed veins. Vethna's hand covers it, as yours did—though not a second later, you feel a cool, mist-like sensation spill over your arm. There's flickers of purple magic, and not a second later Vethna's hand pulls back. The wound is sealed shut, leaving behind nothing more than a small, lightened scar upon your skin. "There," Vethna breathes, falling back to sit on the ground. "Better." Their voice is tight, however, and their eyes keep fluttering to glance at you before looking away quick. You know what they're dreading. Blood magic. They used //blood-magic.// Your blood, no less. <<include "C1_F1AC_1">>

<<set $vethna -3>><<notify 5s>>Vethna didn't like that.<</notify>>You rip your arm free from them, leaving Vethna wide-eyed and mouth parted before they lift their head to look at you. "Don't touch me," you snap. "You've done enough damage." Vethna's eyes widen even more... and then they have the audacity to almost look //hurt//, their dual-colored gaze briefly flickering away as they press their lips together, "$name," they say, "you're //hurt.// You need //help.//" "And you're the reason I'm hurt in the first place." "I did what I had to!" You scoff, but there's an undeniable truth to their words. What other option was there? With those twins //shifted//, you're in no condition to fight them. "$name, please," they murmur. "Let me help." Their hands sit on their lap, fingers axiously spinning their rings around their fingers. You clench your teeth, swallowing thick, more and more blood spilling from your wrist. It's quick, the way your vision is starting to become static-filled. You feel Vethna's hand reach out to grab your shoulder, steadying you as you unwittingly slump forward. You don't have the privielge to be stubborn. Not now. Not here. You concede by letting your hand fall free, revealing the wound. Crisp, //deep,// blood spurting from the severed vein inside your wrist. Vethna's hand quickly covers the cut, and not a moment later, you feel a cool, mist-like sensation spill over your arm. There's flickers of purple magic, and not a second later Vethna's hand pulls back. The wound is sealed shut, leaving behind nothing more than a small, lightened scar upon your skin. But the vertigo, the tunnelled vision... //that// remains, leaving you to slump back against a tree behind you, trying to catch your breath. Even when you shut your eyes, you can feel Vethna's gaze on you. Pleading, desperate, terrified for you to address what they just did. //Blood magic.// <<include "C1_F1AC_1">>

[This scene is unfinished. It will be updated soon!] <center>[[Continue.|C1_F1AC_2]]</center>

<<set $stoic ++>>You say nothing. You don't even think you can open your right mouth without getting sick right now. <<include "C1_F1D_2">>

<<set $aggression ++>>"Or maybe..." you swallow down bile, "you're just terrible at it." "Hah." Vethna lets out the most humorless, dull, laugh you've heard. They can't exactly argue with you. Even their brattiness isn't strong enough to fight through their discomfort. <<include "C1_F1D_2">>

<<set $sarcasm ++>>"No shit," you mutter, sucking in a ragged breath. You could've deduced as much from how //awful// you feel. <<include "C1_F1D_2">>

<<set $genuine ++>>"It's... fine..." you mumble out. It's not. It's really not. But what are you gonna do about it? There's no use stewing on it, and there's certainly no use in making Vethna feel worse. You hear them balk out a dry laugh from beside you. For saying it's fine, you certainly don't //sound// fine. <<include "C1_F1D_2">>

<<set $sarcasm ++>>"No shit," you mutter, sucking in a ragged breath. You could've deduced as much from how //awful// you feel. <<include "C1_F1C_2">>

The wound in your arm is the least of your worries as you try to steady your breathing, closing your eyes and focusing on your surroundings. Birdsong. Leaves in the wind. The smell of fresh dirt. A few moments pass, and slowly, you manage to force yourself to rise. You sit up slowly. Vertigo hits, the world spins, and you nearly drop right back to the ground... but slowly it fades as you swallow thick. Your hand instinctively is pressing against the wound Vethna cut in your wrist. Blood seeps through your fingers, a sharp pain stinging at your flesh. Vethna rises from beside you, hair tangled as they saddle up beside you. They draw your forearm into their grasp, trying to shoo away your hand. *[[Let them continue.|C1_F1C_2A]] *[[Pull back. They just stabbed you, for the gods' sake.|C1_F1C_2B]]

<<set $stoic ++>>You say nothing. You don't even think you can open your right mouth without getting sick right now. <<include "C1_F1C_2">>

Eventually, you manage to sit up. Vethna rubs at their head, their hair a frazzled mess. They don't bother trying to fix it. Your lips part. "Where..." "—are we?" Vethna finishes, looking around. "Not a clue. Still in Plaithus, no doubt." "How can you be sure?" "I'm flattered at how powerful you think my magical talents are," Vethna drawls, looking at you. They lift their hands then, gesturing vaguely around you. Pine trees, hard ground covered by leaves from the shifting seasons. It looks just as familiar as the woods you and Vethna have hiked through before. You both rise to stand. Vethna rolls their ankles several times, only managing to fully get to their feet when you all but haul them upwards. You're both quiet. Sullen. You got out unscathed, but without half your supplies, without your damn horses. You're on your own now, and on foot. "We could be in the middle of nowhere," Vethna says. Their voice holds something bitter, a sort of contempt they aim towards themself. You shake your head, however. "No. Look." You nod towards the leaf-covered ground, walking over to kick some away. There, in the dirt, are wagon tracks. Well-worn. A trader's route. "We can't be too far from some sort of town. We'll follow them. Go from there." "With gorgons after you? And magic-hunters after me?" You ignore Vethna's complaints. Nothing's changed. Not really. You've been on the run this entire time regardless. It just seems the true risks of the situation have dawned upon you both. Vethna especially. <center>[[Continue.|C1_F1D_3]]</center>

include flavor for "perfect", otherwise blood comes from head wound include comments on Vethna being hurt by Jost MC was stabbed in the leg, is awake, aware that Vethna totally just used blood magic :o (mc_h eq "stabbed">> Vethna's secret was almost revealed, Vethna will explain House Mevnrael is the leading house of their house, not that they're apart of it, Introduce the idea of house mev. MC will ask if their "intructor" is from house Mev. Vethna laughs, goes along with it, is nervous af. if MC_h = "stabbed", Vethna got blood from MC's leg wound. If not, Vethna got blood from Jost's head wound. if MC_h = "transformed" or "river" Vethna got it by stabbing MC to calm them if mc_h = "throat", Vethna got it by stabbing Nikke if nikke_h2 = "shoulder", Vethna got it by stabbing Nikke if nikke_h2 = "head", Vethna got it from blood puddle from his head wound i jost_h = head, got it from Jost's head wound if nikke_h eq "face" he was threatened to stay down. C1_fight = 1 - Perfect, MC won C1_fight = 2 - Nikke threatened to stay down C1_fight = 3 - threaten nikke for jost *page_break The Sorcerer trembles.

//You probably did it wrong.// Vethna scowls at the thought. What if they made it worse? Slapped a bandage to cover the true damage? They shift closer to $name to lift $his head upon their lap, their hand wiping the grime from the unconscious Commander's face, the blood that had spilled from their mouth. No. They did fine. No more coughs. No more shaking. Everything's //fine,// They're just alone. In the middle of nowhere. With near no food. Or water. Or supplies. "I am... so stupid," Vethna seethes. They crumple, hands fisting their hair as they try to bite back a choked little sound. "So stupid..." They furiously scrub their hands together. The thinner parts of blood flake off. The thicker areas stick together, smearing further. They let out a distressed sound before digging their hands in the dirt to try and dust it off quicker, but the tint remains in the cracks of their palms. So they sit. They sit, and stare at every little blood-accented line. Their mother's voice comes to mind. //See the shape of your hands?// she had asked. Vethna's hand craddled within her own. The smell of lilies. //These are air shaped.// Vethna had asked what that meant. She always spoke in a voice so //sweet.// So gentle. Capable of such unwitting manipulation. //You're filled with energy,// she said. //Anxious energy that you just don't know what to do with.// <center>[[Continue.|C1_F1B_4]]</center>

Their eyes flicker to $name. Passed out on the ground beside them, face ashen. Their eyes flicker to $name's hand, brows furrowing as they worry their lower lip. Curiosity is a deadly thing. And yet it continues to draw them in, Vethna creeping closer to softly paw at $name's hand, exposing their palm to look at. <<if $vethna_r >= 3>> Their eyes linger on the calluses on $name's fingertips from years of fighting. The scars...<</if>> Sprawling lines on skin tell $name's past, future, thoughts... but before Vethna can so much as see the shape of their hands, $name's groaning, lashes fluttering. Vethna immediately recoils, hands on their lap as they stare at $name. $He <<mr $v "lurch" "lurches">>, sucking in a sharp breath of air that $he <<mr $v "release" "releases">> as a sigh, hands flexing and unflexing at $his sides. *[[$name + " keeps their eyes closed, letting out a deep sigh before they force themself to sit up."|C1_F1B_4A]] *[["It's like a switch has been flipped. " + $name + " shoots up into a sitting position fast enough to give themself a concussion."|C1_F1B_4B]] *[[$name + " turns onto their side, like a child cuddling into a blanket before promptly realizing they're cuddling a pile of dirt."|C1_F1B_4C]] *[['"This has to be the worst hangover of my life," ' + $name + " groans, putting their hands on their face."|C1_F1B_4D]]

If he wanted you dead, he'd have you dead already. But no. He's toying with you. Trying to make a point. And quite frankly, you don't have the time for that. Not when Vethna could be in danger. Your thoughts are broken when the lighting in the room starts to shift. Elongated shadows cast on the ceiling above you, and it takes you a moment to realize it's Vethna and the woman. Vethna holds one of the candelabras in their hands, blowing out the candles before wielding it like a weapon as the melted candles fall onto the ground in a series of thuds. Just like that, you're suddenly submerged in darkness with nothing but the light of the dimly lit sky outside, surrounded by the glowing green eyes of your enemies. <center>[[Continue.|C1_41B_A_A2_A]]</center>

You rip out your dagger from the side of your leg, shoulders rolling back. And then you're running right back at him. He laughs, manic delight in his eyes. Metal clashes, movements quick and flurried. You nearly slice his face, he nearly impails you in the side. When you block the attack with your forearm at the last second, he snarls, and you're forced to reel back as he bares his fangs in your face. He hisses, spit spraying, and your eyes are glued to where the amber venom drips from his fangs. Lethal. Burning. You're thrown off-balance in your attempt to avoid his bite. He takes advantage of it, kicking you in the chest.<<if $height eq "very tall">> It sends you flying right into a bookshelf, novels and dictionaries toppling off the shelves and onto the ground, several nearly crashing right onto your head. He's on you again in seconds, your arms grabbing at his, wrestling him away. His claws tear into your skin, the dagger in his grasp threatening to knick your arm, and he laughs as you both strain. "Having fun, Commander?" he taunts, grin widening.<<elseif $height eq "tall">> It sends you stumbling back several steps and right into a bookshelf. Novels and disctionaries topple off the shelves and onto the ground, several nearly crashing onto your skull. Not a second later and he's on you again, pinning you to the bookshelf, wrestling. You feel the coolness of his breath against your neck before you manage to grab a fistful of his hair and ''pry'' his jaws away from your neck, gnashing and dripping venom, and you use your free hand to land a hook right into the side of his face. You hear a crack that sends a nearly predatorial satisfaction through you, but it does nothing to keep the man from lunging at you a second time. The man's pupils are slits in his eyes, and there's a big, bright, hungry grin on his face. It's sadistic, amused, //excited//, a purpling bruise blossoming on his jaw. Your arms grab at his to wrestle him away, and his hands grasp at the front of your shirt, the edge of his blade dangerously close to your neck. "Having fun, Commander?" he taunts, grin widening.<<elseif $height eq "average height">>You're sent sprawling to the floor, and the air is nearly knocked out of your lungs as the man lands on top of you. He looms over you, his dark hair and the tokens woven into it falling over his shoulder as he lifts his dagger high above his head. You launch your hand up to catch his falling forearm. The force behind his attack is strong, and you grunt out from the effort of keeping his blade from crashing downwards and into your chest. You both strain against the other, and that gleam in the man's eyes, that //smile//, they just keep getting brighter and brighter as a laugh bubbles up from his chest. He leans in closer to you, close enough for you to feel the coldness of his breath creeping along your skin. "Having fun, Commander?" he coos. You just growl in response, one arm braced against his shoulder to keep those jaws of his from snapping around your neck, the other hand wrestling away the knife in his grip.<<else>>You sprawl to the floor, and the air is completely knocked out of your lungs as the man lands on top of you, braced against his knees where he straddles you. He looms over you, his dark hair and the tokens woven into it falling over his shoulder as he lifts his dagger above his head high. You launch your hand up to catch his falling forearm. The force behind it, however, is too much, and your eyes widen as he easily presses onwards in his attack, the knife cutting through the air, directly towards your— //Thunk.// You flinch away at the last second, the knife missing your neck by an inch. You feel the air blow from the swiftness of the blade, a stinging pain lingering on your flesh where you've just barely been nicked. A harsh huff of air leaves the man at having missed, but a part of you almost wonders if it was on purpose. You try to rise and get up, only to realize the collar of your shirt has been pinned to the ground, an amused lilt curling on the man's lips as he pulls out his other dagger in a swift movement, twirling it between his fingers. "Having fun, Commander?" he coos, tilting his head.<</if>> <center>[[Shadows flicker in the background.|C1_41B_A_A2]]</center>

<<set $j_e to "friends">>Your lips press into a thin line before you scoff, almost frustrated with yourself. Look at him, quivering in the dirt. You sigh, feeling both pairs of eyes on you—Vethna's stare oddly calm for offering up their companion to slaughter, Jamie's eyes wide and panicked. He swallows thickly, but you assume the look of //pity// must be quite familiar to him as his shoulders slump in cautious relief. You storm towards him. The man's eyes widen as he scrambles, but you grab a fistful of his collar to keep him from going anywhere, your body leaning over his as you give him a good shake. "Everything in me is telling me to fucking //gut// you right now, do you understand?" you ask, voice low. The man lets out a frightened sob in the back of his throat. "But I'm not." Confusion flickers across his features. You feel your temper flare at the fact you're actually doing this right now. "I'm gonna let you go. But I swear to god, if you try to come back for me, if I find out you turned on us, or if you ran your //fucking// mouth.... I will find you. And I //will// make you wish I killed you here, today, because that would be better than I will do to you. Do you understand me?" The man stares at you, slack-jawed, eyes wide, pupils pinpricks in his dark eyes. You see your own reflection in his brown irises, manic and hateful and //angry.// "Y-yes," he manages to breath out when you shake him again. "Yes, I-I understand." You scowl. And then you drop him, letting his form collapse onto the dirt. Vethna stands beside you, hands on their hips, seeming rather unphased by the entire thing. "Well, go on then," Vethna says. "Off now. And go tell Lnyla you barely escaped with your life." His eyes flicker between you both before he nods, scrambling to get to his feet. And just like that, he's scrambling off into the night, kicking up leaves. You and Vethna watch him until he's out of sight. You glance at the sorcerer still beside you. *[['"What a tool."'|C1_7B_6A2A]] *[['"He's pathetic," you mutter.|C1_7B_6A2B]] *[["Is that gonna bite me in the ass later?" you ask.|C1_7B_6A2C]] *[[Stay quiet.|C1_7B_6A2D]]

<<set $vethna -10>><<set $j_e to "murdered">>You say nothing. He's pathetic. Small. Spineless. //A rat,// You've seen his kind countless times before. Harmless seeming until they disappear into the shadows, turning on you, saying whatever they need to in order to save the skin off their own back. Vethna slowly turns to look at you when your silence goes for too long. The man's expression turns haunted. The air is thick. You see Vethna's seemingly apathetic countenance fade. Their brows furrow, red-painted lips pressing together. "Vethna..." the man breathes out their name. You pull out your dagger. "Vethna, //please//—" His voice breaks. There's fear in his eyes, tears threatening to spill down his now-dirtied face. His eyes are glued to them like they might save him, and even you find yourself waiting for them to speak up. To at least raise a hand to make you rethink your actions. But they don't. They just stare at the ground, eyes distant, jaw clenched. Vygranders. All the same. A crab pot, pulling each other down in a futile, blood-filled circle, willing to offer each other up as sacrifices to save the skin off their own back. But it's of no consquence to you now, is it? The man sobs, scrambling back on the dirt as you grab the collar of his robe, keeping him in place. His hands grip your forearm, his body shaking, chest wracking with his cries. "Don't! Please, don't! I swear to the dead gods, I won't tell anyone. I won't! I //won't!" His words break off into another broken hiccup. Your grip on him tightens, his eyes squeezing shut when you press your blade to his throat. "Please..." he whimpers. //Go on. Do it. You're a murderer. A blood thirsty, hungry beast. That's why you killed them all. ''All'' of them. Your students. Your peers. Your teachers. All of them, dead by your hand. What's one more? He begs, just like them. Little lambs led to the slaughter.// *[[You can't. You can't do it.|C1_7B_6CA]] *[[Cut his throat.|C1_7B_6CB]]

<<set $mc_h to "captured">><<set $jost_res -10>><<set $nikke_res -10>><<notify 5s>>You lost the battle against the gorgon twins.<</notify>>Your head pounds. You're in a cold sweat, skin clammy and bones aching. You feel like you're going to vomit, and it takes several seconds for you to realize your hands are bound behind your back. There's a piece of fabric tied impossibly tight around your mouth, your ankles tied together. You're still in the inn, you realize. And Vethna's slumped up right beside you, glaring daggers at the twins from where they're crouched in the opposing corner of the room. They're looking at something. A map, you think, murmuring back-and-forth to each other in a snake-like language you can't understand. Their backs are to you, but every now and again you'll catch a glimpse of their faces, stoic, brows furrowed. The woman pulls something out from a pack strapped to her thigh. A box, small, about the size of her palm. There's a small circular glass cut-out in the center, and through it you see a faint, pale-green, glowing light. Just //looking// at it has some part of you transfixed. Hypnotized. Your eyes widen, heart racing, and a part of you feels this nearly impossible-to-fight urge to crawl your way closer. You only snap out of it when the woman turns to look in your direction. Your eyes snap shut then, the hair on the back of your neck on end. You don't reopen them until you feel Vethna nudging you softly, as if they themself are unsure if you're awake again or not. <center>[[Continue.|C1_N2_A3]]</center>

<<set $jost_h to "stabbed">><<set $jost_res +5>>Your arm hooks around her neck as you wrangle her back—and to your surprise, Vethna's twirling their own dagger between their fingers before you can grab your own. You hold the woman still as she thrashes, gnashing teeth, and Vethna seizes the opportunity to take the blade and embed it //right// into the woman's side. They flinch. Their lips pull back in a disgusted grimace, but their gaze is focus, and you realize a second later the dagger is glowing, hollowed out gems on the hilt filling with blood. "We're getting out of here," they whisper, more to themself than you. Their eyes flash to meet yours. They nod their head to the side as they rip the dagger out, a silent gesture, and you toss the gorgon to the ground as hard as you can, ignoring the pained, infuriated hiss that leaves her. "You //fuckers//—!" she snaps. Her voice is unhinged, manic, and she makes to scramble back to her feet. Blood gushes from the wound on her side, but she ignores it, legs shaking as she attempts to rise once more— Vethna grabs your hand. You feel their magic before you see it. Overwhelming, heady like incense, expanding and collapsing into itself in a fog of purple mist that consumes everything in the room, everything in your vision. You feel like you're falling, or flying, or maybe both, and then you're just... <center>[[Gone.|C1_F1_A]]</center>

"You really think I'd stay down for you to //fuck// over my sister?" The man's on top of you, slamming your face into the ground. Your teeth snap onto your tongue, blood gushing into your mouth, head spinning— <<if $h_length eq "buzz-cut">>He grips the back of your shirt in his fist. He uses it to lift your head up again and—<<else>>His fingers snake through your hair, grabbing a fistful. He uses it to lift your head up again and—<</if>> //Slam.// Your head goes into the floor a second time. Your head spins. //Gods be damned—// Your attention's torn. Between Vethna being wrangled by the woman, by the floor quickly approaching your face for a third time— //slam//— and the man's incessesant gabbering into your ear. About his sister. About how you should've made sure he stayed down. About... "Ow! The //fuck—//?" The man stops treating your head like a gavel. Your vision blurs, the world shaky, blood dripping from your nose and face bruising. Your eyes flicker up to what's seemingly caught everyone's attention. You see a blade in the woman's side. See Vethna holding it— ... well, shit. There's your opening. Goody two-shoes Vethna impaling a woman with a knife seems to be enough to have everyone stunned, including the asshole above you. *[[Kick the man off and get to Vethna.|C1_N2_2CAA]] *[[Beat the absolute ever-loving shit out of this man.|C1_N2_2CAB]] ''X''

<<set $jost_h to "stabbed">>You throw the man off of you, practically bucking him off and kicking him as you scramble to your feet. Vethna's hand falls from the dagger when the woman snarls, swiping at their face with her claws, staggering back and into a wall. "$name! Grab the dagger!" they shout between panicked sounds, eyes wide and haphazardly dodging the woman's attacks. Your eyes land on the blade still in the woman's torso. It's glowing now, the little hollowed out gems on the hilt filled with the teal blood of the gorgon. //Fuck you.// You don't want to lay hands on some blood magic device, and yet here you are, wrapping an arm around the woman's neck to wrange her against you, gripping the dagger and //ripping//it out. A shuddered gasp escapes her as you toss the blade to Vethna, who miraculously manages to catch it without cutting themself. It happens in seconds. The man lunging towards Vethna, the woman wrestling in your arms, and Vethna grabbing you by the bicep and yanking you back into releasing the woman. "No!" the woman screams. Her voice is hoarse, angered, panicked— You feel their magic before you see it. Overwhelming, heady like incense, expanding and collapsing into itself in a fog of purple mist that consumes everything in the room, everything in your vision. You feel like you're falling, or flying, or maybe both, and then you're just... <center>[[Gone.|C1_F1_A]]</center>

[This scene is unfinished. It will be updated soon!] <center>[[Continue.|C1_F1AC_2]]</center>

"Don't touch me," you mutter, taking a step away from him. He takes it in stride, his hands instead hovering uselessly infront of him. "Right, okay—" he says. "Thank you. Thank you for this." <<include "C1_7B_6A2">>

You press your lips together, letting him grab your hand. His palms are clammy as he squeezes your hand tightly, giving it a small shake. "Thank you... thank you, I won't forget this—" He's breathless, pawing at your hand like some sort of child.<<include "C1_7B_6A2">>

"Okay, so this is happening now, I guess..." you mutter. You let him grab your hand, though you cringe the second you feel how clammy his hands are, your eyes darting off to the side "Thank you... thank you, I won't forget this—" he says, half-breathless. He grips your hand so tight you're half-convinced he wants to squeeze it right off of you, shaking your head in quick short bursts. <<include "C1_7B_6A2">>

You don't know why he's thanking you so much considering you were just as ready to haul him off to Plaithian jail a second ago. Where, undoubtedly, he would've had his head cut off and been charged with the crime of using blood-magic. "Yeah. Sure," you mutter, eyes flickering to the side. Vethna comes to your aid, seemingly just as annoyed with him as they grip the back of his robe and yank him away from you. "Off now," Vethna mutters. "And go tell Lnyla you barely escaped with your life." He nods, eyes flickering between you both. And then, like that, he's scrambling off into the night, kicking up leaves. You and Vethna watch him until he's out of sight, quiet. *[['"What a tool."'|C1_7B_6A2A]] *[['"He's pathetic," you mutter.|C1_7B_6A2B]] *[["Is that gonna bite me in the ass later?" you ask.|C1_7B_6A2C]] *[[Stay quiet.|C1_7B_6A2D]]

<<set $j_e to "resentful">>You grip your knife tighter and tighter, until your knuckles go pale. Your eyes are glued to his, to your own reflection in his tearful, terrified gaze. You can't do it. You just... you //can't.// This man isn't a threat to you. Or he wasn't. You're not so sure now after you've so nearly taken his life. Your hand releases him, a growl bubbling up in your throat as you stand and turn away. Your chest heaves. Heavy breaths escape as you. Their screamse are echoing in your head. All the blood that's been spilled on your hands. All the lives you've taken. How many people have begged you for their lives? You don't turn around. You hear leaves breaking as Vethna approaches Jamie. You hear their hushed words and whispers. The air is cold. Your eyes burn. You hear footsteps running off into the woods, and you hear footsteps coming up behind you. "Don't," you say simply, voice low. Vethna's quiet behind you. They stay quiet, until you turn to look at them. "You want to work together," you say simply. Your voice is tight. The shame clings to your skin. "What's in it for me?" Vethna blinks, taken aback by the question. Their eyes flicker between yours before their hands go to the bag at their waist. Your eyes flitter about the woods as they untie it. The man, Jamie, is gone. <center>[[Continue.|C1_7B_6CB2]]</center>

<<set $evil +10>><<set $vethna_res -10>><<set $cursed to true>>His pleas mean nothing to you. The killing is the easiest part. So swift. So quick. Your knife slices across his throat, deep, ripping through flesh and sinew. You feel the pop of his veins snapping open. Feel the rubbery thickness of his esophagus be cut in two. A pathetic squeal escapes the wound in his throat. Crimson spills from him, stains your hands. You drop him to the ground as he chokes, as he sputters, and you watch in his eyes as the terror, the confusion of his own body dying around him, is snuffed out. Replaced with nothing. You clean your blade off on his robes, wiping your hands off. But it's sticky, dried, clinging to your hands... And something is wrong. So very, //very// wrong. <center>[[Continue.|C1_7b_6CA2]]</center>

"I can pay you," they state. They offer the bag to you, the pouch clinking with what must be coins. They watch you expectantly as your eyes flicker from their offering hand to them and back again, and when you take the satchel from them, you weigh it in your hands. Well... //shit.// It's not light, that's for sure, and you know without looking it's filled with gold. Even so, you can't help but open the pouch and pull out a single coin, inspecting it idly. It could be glamor. or some sort of illusion. You wouldn't put it beneath a Vygrander, that's for sure, and it's only when the metallic tang of the coin hits your nose that you drop it back in the pouch and tie it shut once more. They look at you. The words that leave their mouth next have your heart sinking in your chest. Maybe throwing around your title so carelessly has come back to bite you in the ass, since a moment later, Vethna's speaking your name, your //real// name into existence. * [['"Elaine..."'|C1_7B_6CB3][$name to "Elaine"]] * [['"Tobias..."'|C1_7B_6CB3][$name to "Tobias"]] * [['"Juniper..."'|C1_7B_6CB3][$name to "Juniper"]] * [[My name's none of these.|C1_7B_6CB2.1]]

"What a tool," you mutter. Vethna says nothing. Just continues to watch the darkness of the woods that swallowed Jamie up whole. You turn to look at them then, eyes taking in their features. "So," you begin. They turn to look at you, their eyes glowing in the darkness. "You want to work together." They say nothing. Barely even give a nod of the chin to confirm your words. Your eyes narrow a bit, taking them in. The gold on their fingers, their necklaces, the finery of their robes. You step closer to them. "What's in it for me?" They don't seem surprised by the question. Instead, their fingers go to a bag tied at their side, pulling it free. <center>[[Continue.|C1_7B_6CB2]]</center>

"He's pathetic," you mutter. Vethna says nothing, just lets out a low hum in the back of their throat. Like they agree but can't be bothered to actually say it. That, or maybe whatever little ounce of loyalty they had to that man lingers within them. Just //barely.// You turn to look at them then, eyes taking in their features. "So," you begin. They turn to look at you, their eyes glowing in the darkness. "You want to work together." They say nothing. Barely even give a nod of the chin to confirm your words. Your eyes narrow a bit, taking them in. The gold on their fingers, their necklaces, the finery of their robes. You step closer to them. "What's in it for me?" They don't seem surprised by the question. Instead, their fingers go to a bag tied at their side, pulling it free. <center>[[Continue.|C1_7B_6CB2]]</center>

You stay quiet. Your mind is racing with a million thoughts, heart thumping heavily in your chest. Today was meant to be simple. Easy. And yet, here you are. You turn to look at them then, eyes taking in their features. "So," you begin. They turn to look at you, their eyes glowing in the darkness. "You want to work together." They say nothing. Barely even give a nod of the chin to confirm your words. Your eyes narrow a bit, taking them in. The gold on their fingers, their necklaces, the finery of their robes. You step closer to them. "What's in it for me?" They don't seem surprised by the question. Instead, their fingers go to a bag tied at their side, pulling it free. <center>[[Continue.|C1_7B_6CB2]]</center>

"Is that gonna bite me in the ass later?" you ask. "Letting him go?" they ask. You just hum in confirmation. They stay quiet for a while, and you dare to look at them, watching them bite their lower lip as they furrow their brows. There's a conflicted, concentrated look in their eyes. You can't say it's doing wonders to reassure you. "I don't think so," they say finally. They don't say it with the utmost certainty, and that leaves you to sigh. "Well," you say simply. "Fuck." Vethna turns to look at you as you turn on your heel, pacing idly in the small clearing. "So," you begin, still pacing. Walk four steps forward. Turn. Walk four steps forward. Turn... "You want to work together." Vethna crosses their arms as they watch you. "That's the idea. Yes." You stop when you find yourself standing in front of them again. You hum, eyes narrowing as you take in the sight of them. The gold on their fingers, their necklaces, the finery of their robes. You step closer to them. "What's in it for me?" They don't seem surprised by the question. Instead, their fingers go to a bag tied at their side, pulling it free. <center>[[Continue.|C1_7B_6CB2]]</center>

The blood is congealing. Turning black. A stench seeps from it. The familiarity of iron and flesh makes way for something vile, of dark magic, rot, and //bile//. "Shit." You drop your knife. But it doesn't matter. The sickly blood is //on// you, fingers coated in a silvery sheen. Pain shoots through your veins from your palms upwards, as if your own blood is turning into acid. You fall to the ground. A pained sound erupts from your throat. You roll over, yelling into the dirt, and you find your collapsed form laying beside Jamie's corpse. The last thing you see before you black out is Vethna, standing over you, their eyes glowing as they come to kneel beside you. You feel their hand press to your forehead. And then it's all... just... <center>[[Continue.|C1_7B_6CA3]]</center>

<center><span class="imgb"><img src="images/Act I/INTRO_Vethna.png"></span></center> It smells like sage. That's the first thing you notice. That, however, is quickly followed by you realizing that your tongue is glued to the roof of your mouth from how dry it is, each swallow feeling as if someone is dragging sandpaper down your throat. It's a battle to force your eyes to open, and when you do, you have to blink a few times to see clearly. Vethna sits across from you, on a log, a book on their lap. Their expression is difficult to read as they watch you struggle to sit up, a fire crackling between you both. "You're alive," they say simply. You grimace, taking a few seconds to try and gather spit in your mouth before swallowing. "You want me to die?" "A bit," they confess. "But I still need you." Your eyes meet theirs. They don't seem intimidated by you, but you can see the sheer levels of resentment in their gaze before they look away. "His blood was cursed," they say simply. "Jamie's. Some kind of spell. Like a human bomb. I don't know what it was, but... clearly it nearly took you out." You frown, looking down at your hands. The pain is gone. So is the silvery sheen. But you feel something else, some magical thrum of energy in your veins. "I healed you," they say, as if reading your mind. //Great,// Vygrander magic in your blood. "You know," you say, pressing a thumb against the pulse point of your wrist. "If you wanted your little friend to live so bad, you could've put up more of a fight." Vethna lets out a scoffing, bitter laugh. "Oh? And say I had, would you have listened to me or gutted me along with him?" You glance a them. And then you look away. You both already know the answer. Vethna sighs then, slamming the book shut and rising to stand, kneeling beside you. What leaves their mouth has your heart sinking, lips turning into a thin line. Maybe throwing around your former title //has// come back to bite you in the ass, since your name, your //real// name, comes out of Vethna's mouth. * [['"Elaine..."'|C1_7B_6CA4][$name to "Elaine"]] * [['"Tobias..."'|C1_7B_6CA4][$name to "Tobias"]] * [['"Juniper..."'|C1_7B_6CA4][$name to "Juniper"]] * [[My name's none of these.|C1_7B_6CA3.1]]

"I need $name..." * [['"Lynzal..."'|C1_7B_6CA5][$name_l to "Lynzal"]] * [['"Vamirel..."'|C1_7B_6CA5][$name_l to "Vamirel"]] * [['"Kalesko..."'|C1_7B_6CA5][$name_l to "Kalesko"]] * [[My last name's none of these.|C1_7B_6CA4.1]]

//What's your name? Make sure to capitalize it.// <<textbox "$name" "Type name here">> <center>[[Continue.|C1_7B_6CA4]]</center>

"Look, I need $name $name_l. I need //you.// And I can make it worth your time," they say. Their hands go to a bag at their side, undoing the lace before they offer it to you. They watch you expectantly as your eyes flicker from their hand to them and back again, and when you take the satchel from them, you weigh it in your hands. Well... //shit.// It's not light, that's for sure, and you know without looking it's filled with gold. Even so, you can't help but open the pouch and pull out a single coin, inspecting it idly. It could be glamor. or some sort of illusion. You wouldn't put it beneath a Vygrander, that's for sure, and it's only when the metallic tang of the coin hits your nose that you drop it back in the pouch and tie it shut once more. "So, you give me all this, to what? Keep safe from Vygranders?" "Well... the magic-hunters they would send after me," Vethna clarifies. Your nose wrinkles. "Vrithkans," you state. Vethna swallows, then nods once. You look at them consideringly. They look... //vulnerable//, almost, as they watch you. Unsure of themself despite their best attempts to hide it. You let out a sigh, partially dragging your hand over your face. "If not, I could push it. Pay you montly," they say, eyes narrowing. A bargain. Or a plea. *[['"I don\'t want your money."'|C1_7B_6CB4A]] *[['"No," you wave your hand at them, "an initial payment\'s fine."'|C1_7B_6CB4B]] *[['"... fine."'|C1_7B_6CB4C]]

//What's your //last// name? Make sure to capitalize it.// <<textbox "$name_l" "Type name here">> <center>[[Continue.|C1_7B_6CA5]]</center>

"Tell me, $name..." * [['"Lynzal..."'|C1_7B_6CB4][$name_l to "Lynzal"]] * [['"Vamirel..."'|C1_7B_6CB4][$name_l to "Vamirel"]] * [['"Kalesko..."'|C1_7B_6CB4][$name_l to "Kalesko"]] * [[My last name's none of these.|C1_7B_6CB3.1]]

//What's your name? Make sure to capitalize it.// <<textbox "$name" "Type name here">> <center>[[Continue.|C1_7B_6CB3]]</center>

"Tell me, $name $name_l, is that convincing enough for you?" they ask, eyes flickering between yours. Your lips press into a thin line. You might just have to be a fool to say no to money like this. "So, you give me all this, to what? Keep safe from Vygranders?" "Well... the magic-hunters they would send after me," Vethna clarifies. Your nose wrinkles. "Vrithkans," you state. Vethna swallows, then nods once. You look at them consideringly. They look... //vulnerable//, almost, as they watch you. Unsure of themself despite their best attempts to hide it. You let out a sigh, partially dragging your hand over your face. "If not, I could push it. Pay you montly," they say, eyes narrowing. A bargain. Or a plea. *[['"I don\'t want your money."'|C1_7B_6CB4A]] *[['"No," you wave your hand at them, "an initial payment\'s fine."'|C1_7B_6CB4B]] *[['"... fine."'|C1_7B_6CB4C]]

//What's your //last// name? Make sure to capitalize it.// <<textbox "$name_l" "Type name here">> <center>[[Continue.|C1_7B_6CB4]]</center>

<<set $money to 1>>"I don't need your money," you say, shaking your head as you hand them back the pouch. They don't take it back immediately, instead looking at you strangely. "What?" They stare at you as if you've just grown a second head. You feel it, too. Turning down this much money... "I'll help you without it," you say. You almost can't believe your own words. Vethna certainly can't either, their brows furrowing, eyes narrowing. "What? Why?" Your lips part, and then shut again. //Why?// Because you need purpose? Because you like to feel needed? Because this feels like the start to something big, after so many years of being nothing? You don't tell them any of that. You just put the pouch of wealth back in their hands and look away. "How very... noble of you," Vethna says, almost drawling the words out. You scoff. "Trust me," you rasp. "It's just as selfish." Vethna stares at you like a puzzle they want to pick apart. You ignore it. Ignore //them.// And ignore the stupid, foolish hope in your gut. That this could be an up turn for you. <center>[[Continue.|C1_7B_6CB45]]</center>

<<set $money to 3>>"If you're sure," you mumble. You squeeze the pouch one last time for good measure before pocketing it. Quite frankly, it's more gold that you've seen in the past months combined. It makes strange, fuzzy memories surface in your mind. Memories of grandeur, and— you wince, swallowing thickly as you push the memories back. The good ones are almost worse than the bad ones. You can feel Vethna's gaze burning through you, and you chew on the inside of your cheek as you look at the dim atmosphere of the tavern. It's quiet save for the murmuring of patrons and the fire crackling. It feels like the peace before the storm. <center>[[Continue.|C1_7B_6CB45]]</center>

<<notify 5s>>People Codex Unlocked: Sabir du Vaelas<</notify>><<set $co_pe1 to true>>You clear your throat, turning to face Vethna— to look at the person under your charge. You haven't been a guard for someone since... //Sabir.// You suck in a grounding breath, bitingon your tongue hard enough to draw blood. This, you deem, is a bad night. You can't remember the last time so many memories have threatened to swarm you at once. You have the awful, sinking feeling it's only going to get worse from here. "My services are yours," you state, though you're painfully aware of how distant your voice sounds to your own ears— how your gaze is focused on nothing instead of them when you speak. Vethna stares at you. You think you see them nod. Barely. "Are you... alright?" they ask. Their voice is oddly hesitant. Tense. Like a piece of rope pulled taut. Your eyes snap to meet theirs. "What?" you mutter. Your voice comes out sharp. Colder than you intended. //Why would anything be wrong with you—?// Vethna's eyes flicker between yours, their red-painted lips parting and closing like a fish out of water before they subtly shake their head as if changing their mind. "Nothing. Nevermind," they murmur, abruptly looking away. A frown curls on your lips. No. A //scowl.// You force yourself to look away, sucking in another low, steadying breath. You can't help but think about who you were before this mess. Before the taunting and bitter memories. The //"commander"// had fallen from the world stage a long time ago. Why someone, //anyone//, would seek you out now is beyond you. <center>[[Continue.|C1_7B_6CB46]]</center>

You bite down on your tongue to quell your curiosity, cracking your neck as you do so.. "We should head back to town," you say. "It's pure luck we haven't been attacked by something yet." //We.// The word feels foreign on your tongue. "Hm," Vethna says. Their eyes flitter about the dark woods, their lips pressed into a thin line. They say nothing, but you can feel it. They disagree. Things have been hunted down here. You just happen to be the predator that's stalking in the shadows. You can't help but curse yourself a little for agreeing to this in the first place. Old habits die hard, it seems. [[Continue.|C1_20]]

"What's your favorite food?" you ask. Vethna's brows furrow, sheer judgment radiating from them. "Seriously?" "What?" "What's my favorite food? Any question you could ask me in the world, and it's what my favorite //food// is?" *[['"Fine, I take it back. Who do you bank with, and also what are the last four digits of your account number?"'|C1_36_D_B_C_A]] *[['"... Yes."'|C1_36_D_B_C_B]] *[[Stay silent.|C1_36_D_B_C_C]]

"That's... a terrible name," you state. Vethna glares as you, eyes narrowing. "You have a terrible name." You blink. Vethna frowns. "Sorry," they blurt, as if the words just popped right out of them without meaning to. //Gods.// Okay. Noted—don't make fun of Vethna's naming decisions. <<include "C1_36">>

You stay silent. You have a feeling that's the safest choice as you purse your lips, nod, and slowly look away. Vethna's eyes narrow on you before they look off. Note to self—do not let Vethna name things in the future. <<include "C1_36">>

"What? Why with a 'k'?" Vethna shrugs. "Seems more amusing that way. Suits him better, anyhow." //More amusing.// Huh. You don't know why, but you never imagined Vethna doing something just for the amusement factor, nonetheless when it comes to something like naming a pet. But you just nod, lips pursing. "Alright then." "Mhm..." Vethna hums. Their eyes narrow, as if they're ready to attack if you dare utter a word of criticism regarding their name concentions. An arrow dodged, it seems as you keep your mouth shut. <<include "C1_36">>

You stare at them. They stare at you. You can't read their expression, and you can tell they're trying to read yours, too. "Love it," you say simply, nodding. Vethna blinks. Then looks off to the side. The tension dissipates slowly. You had half the mind to think they were going to rip your head off if you dared to insult their pet's name. An arrow narrowly dodged, it seems. <<include "C1_36">>

<<set $vethna ++>><<notify 5s>>Vethna thought that was funny.<</notify>>"Fine, I take it back," you retrort. Vethna raises a brow in interest. "Who do you bank with, and also what are the last four digits of your account number?" Vethna stares at you for a long moment before they snort, the corner of their lips quirking up. "Hm. Might tell you the wrong numbers just to have the satisfaction of watching Vygrand's security burn you alive." "Vygrandian banks burn people alive for fraud?" "Do you wish to find out?" There's an amused drawl to their words that has you both entertained and vaguely unsettled. "... maybe another time." Vethna laughs. <<include "C1_36">>

"... Yes," you say. They roll their eyes a little, crossing their legs. "Spiced chocolate?" they say, though it sounds more like a question than a statement. Now it's //your// turn to look at them like they're stupid. "Spiced chocolate?" "What's wrong with that?" "That's not //food//, it's a dessert." "Is a dessert not food?" You both stare each other down, Vethna crossing their arms and raising an accusing brow at you. "Take it or leave it. The answer is spiced chocolate," they say. They look so damned //pleased// with themself as you scoff, shaking your head in mild annoyance. <<include "C1_36">>

You stay silent, and Vethna sighs, dramatically sinking in their chair as they roll their eyes. They pout as they think, eyes glued to the ceiling. "Spiced chocolate?" they say, though it sounds more like a question than a statement. Now it's //your// turn to look at them like they're stupid. "Spiced chocolate?" "What's wrong with that?" "That's not //food//, it's a dessert." "Is a dessert not food?" You both stare each other down, Vethna crossing their arms and raising an accusing brow at you. "Take it or leave it. The answer is spiced chocolate," they say. They look so damned //pleased// with themself as you scoff, shaking your head in mild annoyance. <<include "C1_36">>

"If you were around Vygrandian nobility, shouldn't you have..." you trail off, vaguely gesturing to your abdomen. You used to see them frequently during the war. Even Jamie was wearing one. Fabrics of rich colors wrapped around their waists, some nicer than others, embroidered with gold and silver thread. Vethna raises a brow at you. "A...?" Your eyes narrow, and the corner of their lips quirk upwards in a feline-like smile. They huff a laugh then, shaking their head. "I stopped wearing one when I left," they say simply. Though their voice sounds tight in their throat, their eyes downcast. "I have no need for such a thing here." "Aren't they important?" you ask. Vethna shrugs. "It depends on how important the person wearing it is." "Well, what color did yours use to be?" you ask. Vethna's lips press into a thin line at the question. They don't answer for a long while, and it's not until you narrow your eyes that they relent. "Orange." "Orange?" They just nod. You remember it being a new color. You've cared little of inserting yourself into Vygrandian politics, corrupt as they are, but you do recall whispers and gossip of a Great House falling, only to be replaced with a newer one. Vethna stubbornly refuse to glance in your direction as your mind trails off into thought. <<include "C1_36">>

"I don't get it," you say. "You could kill me now and go back to Vygrand, become a hero." Vethna huffs at that, humorless yet amused all at once. "Oh? I'm flattered you think I'd stand much of a choice against you." Your eyes narrow on them. "You could kill me in a million small ways every day, if you wanted." "Only if you trusted me," Vethna says. Their eyes slowly slide over to look at you again, firelight reflected in them. "Do you? Trust me?" You frown. The words stick in your throat. Vethna frowns a little then, looking away, shaking their head. "I don't... look, I left Vygrand for a reason," Vethna says, looking down at their hands. "And I have no intention on going back. Not now." You want to argue. But you don't. You don't think Vethna themself even knows what their motivations are, beyond running. And you hate it. Hate it because it reminds you too much of yourself. Your two nobodies, gone from your homelands, left with only each other. And even //this// is simply an alliance of convenience. You try not to dwell on that. <<include "C1_36">>

<<set $stoic ++>>"Sleep well?" Vethna asks. They try to hide teh way tehir voice wants to shake. Swallow down the guilt in their throat like rises like bile. "Swell," $name grumbles. Leaves and rocks stick to $his cloak, dirt smudged on $his face. <<include "C1_F1B_5">>

<<set $aggression ++>>Vethna flinches from how quickly $name is back up again. Already $his eyes scan the clearing, assessing the situation, looking for danger. //<<mr $v "Do" "Does">> $he ''ever'' take a break?// "Calm down," Vethna murmurs. "If something was going to eat us, it would've done it already." $name's lips press into a thin line... but $his body slumps back not a moment later. Seems exhaustion's won the battle for them. <<include "C1_F1B_5">>

<<set $genuine ++>>$name's eyes open slowly, and Vethna can actually //see// the gears turning in $his head. When $name's gaze lands on Vethna, however, $he <<mr $v "seem" "seems">> to calm down for the most part before slowly sitting up. <<include "C1_F1B_5">>

<<set $sarcasm ++>>"This has to be the worst hangover of my life," $name groans, putting $his face in $his hands. "That so?" Vethna muses, raising a brow at $him. $name just grumbles in confirmation, struggling to sit back up again and making a dramatic show of draping $his body on a nearby log. <<include "C1_F1B_5">>

There's a moment of silence before $name's brows furrow... <nobr><<if $he eq "she">>*[[$his + " brown hair tousled by the wind."|C1_F1B_6][$h_color to "brown"]] *[[$his + " blonde hair tousled by the wind."|C1_F1B_6][$h_color to "blonde"]] *[[$his + " red hair tousled by the wind."|C1_F1B_6][$h_color to "red"]] *[[$his + " black hair tousled by the wind."|C1_F1B_6][$h_color to "black"]] *[[$his + " white hair tousled by the wind."|C1_F1B_6][$h_color to "white"]] *[[Something else...|C1_F1B_5.1]]<<else>>*[[$his + " brown hair tousled by the wind."|C1_F1B_6][$h_color to "brown"]] *[[$his + " blond hair tousled by the wind."|C1_F1B_6][$h_color to "blond"]] *[[$his + " red hair tousled by the wind."|C1_F1B_6][$h_color to "red"]] *[[$his + " black hair tousled by the wind."|C1_F1B_6][$h_color to "black"]] *[[$his + " white hair tousled by the wind."|C1_F1B_6][$h_color to "white"]] *[[Something else...|C1_F1B_5.1]]<</if>></nobr>

$name looks around, mouth hanging open like $his mind is blank. Vethna's stomach stirs with dread. They try to keep the panic off their face as they swallow thick, offering a wobbly smile. Maybe $name just doesn't remember. //Won't// remember. Maybe Vethna can just treat this like it's all one bad dream— "Wait," $name blurts. Vethna's stomach sinks. $name's eyes narrow. $His2 hands pat along $his body as Vethna swallows thick. But $name doesn't seem angry, or in a rush. In fact, $his hands fumble with $his bag, pulling it onto $his lap as $his hands rummage through it before pulling out a canister. "Coffee?" $name asks. Vethna blinks. "Coffee?" Vethna repeats. $name just nods, shoving it into Vethna's shaking, half-numb hands as they stare at it blankly. "Uh. Alright. Thanks." They unscrew the top carefully, taking a slow sip. It's bitter. Burnt. But they stay quiet about that. A shaky sigh leaves the sorcerer as they take another gulp of the warm liquid before screwing the canister shut tight, setting it down with far more force than necessary beside them, $name's attention finally goes to their blood-stained hands. Panic rises like bile within Vethna's chest. They see it in $name's eyes. The stirring of memories. The flickier of awareness. $name looks around. "Where are we?" $name asks, eyes narrowing. Vethna swallows thickly. "A... forest," they supply stupidly. They press their lips together, their fingers digging into the dirt. "I don't know where. Specifically, I mean. I couldn't... focus on that part." It takes a second for $name to fully process the words. And when $he <<mr $v "do" "does">>, $his brows knit together. "Focus?" $name repeats. $He <<mr $v "draw" "draws">> that word out, as if it confuses $him further. The Commander's memory has always been like this, muddled and off like an old clock. Vethna can't imagine the blood loss helped as they glance at the partially healed wounds on $name's body. $name follows their gaze. Just like that, the haze in $his eyes are gone. There's only a sharp awareness with such weight behind it Vethna wishes they could sink into the ground. <center>//[[Shit.|C1_F1B_7]]//</center>

Type hair color here. ''Use all lower case.'' <<textbox "$h_color" "">> <center>[[Continue.|C1_F1B_6]]</center>

''//$name//'' It comes in flashes. A voice in your head that is not your own. Voices in the hallway. Jumping out the window. Freezing water.<<if $mc_h eq "river">> Vethna's intense question of trust.<<else>> The way you nearly lost control of yourself... No. The way you //did// lose control of yourself.<</if>> Your jaw clenches at the memory, eyes scanning over your would-be wounds to find nothing but healed scars beneath the dried grime. At the very least, they healed you after ripping you open. *[[You're mad. Who cares if they healed you?|C1_F1B_7A]] *[[You're upset, but at least they healed you.|C1_F1B_7B]] *[[You feel betrayed.|C1_F1B_7C]] *[[You only care about getting answers. Maybe there's a reasoning behind this.|C1_F1B_D]] *[[You're... okay, it was kinda funny. It shouldn't be, but it is.|C1_F1B_E]] *[[You're both alive. That's all that matters.|C1_F1B_F]] *[[You're worried about Vethna.|C1_F1B_G]]

<<notify 5s>>Vethna feels bad.<</notify>><<set $vethna -3>><<set $aggressive_f1 to true>><<if $mc_h eq "river">>"What the //hell// kind of magic are you involved in?" you accuse. You jump to your feet, and Vethna scrambles to do the same. Their hands immediately shoot up in surrender, lips pressed together as they shake their head, eyes pleading. "I //trust// you, and you decide to cut my entire fucking arm open?" "I didn't—" they stop themself. Try again. "I didn't //mean// to!" "You didn't—" you have to stop yourself, letting out a disbelieving scoff. "You didn't //mean// to?" you repeat. "What are you? A moron?" You throw a hand out in gesture, Vethna flinching as if they expect you to hit them. You just might with how angry you are, stepping closer to them until they're backed up against a tree. "Do you see this?" you seethe, holding out your arm. The long, ragged scar of your flesh is exposed, and Vethna glances at it barely before quickly looking away. "//Look at it,//" you sneer. "You did it, so //''look.''//" Vethna sniffles. Their lips wobble and their eyes flutter, but eventually they manage to force themself to look, face pale. "I'm sorry," they whisper, voice lost in the breeze. Their eyes meet yours, wide and begging. *[['"I should never have trusted someone like you."'|C1_F1B_7A_A]]<<else>>"You fucking... //stabbed// me," you breathe, your voice dripping with quiet rage. Your eyes bore through them, and Vethna squirms beneath the weight of your stare, watching you as you rise sto stand above them. "You fucking //stabbed// me!" They scramble to their feet, hands shooting up in surrender. "I had no choice!" "//Bullshit,//" you sneer. You grab the hold of their gown, force them back into the tree behind them as they wince. "We would've been //killed// if I didn't do anything," Vethna says. Their voice is low, whispery, like they're trying to placate a beast. "I apologize if you were unaware of that while you were having a //break down//!" They snap back at you, though they immediately wince when the words leave their mouth, regret coloring their features. You are //two// seconds from killing them. You barely manage to let go of them. It's a battle to make your fist release their gown, and an even bigger one to take a step away, chest heaving as you suck in steadying breaths. "I'm sorry," Vethna says, breathing shakily. "I'm sorry, okay?" *[['"I was right not to trust you."'|C1_F1B_7A_B]]<</if>> *[[Calm down. "... It's fine."|C1_F1B_7A_C]] *[[Stay silent.|C1_F1B_7A_D]] *[[Pissed as you are... you're worried, too. Check on them.|C1_F1B_7A_E]] *[[Pissed as you are... you're worried, too. Check on them. ♥|C1_F1B_7A_F]]

"You..." the rest of your sentence dies out. Honestly, you're not even sure what you'd say if it didn't. Your heart hammers in your chest, brain spinning as you attempt to piece together what happened. Your eyes land on the dirts scurrying on the ground by your feet. Picking up dirt granule by granule. Padding over the stains of bloody mud you've left from your injuries. You don't realize Vethna moved until they're crouched beside you. "$name?" they ask. Concern drips from their words, a hand reaching out to touch your shoulder before thinking better of it. <<if $mc_h eq "river">>You trusted them. You trusted them to get you out and they... You squeeze your eyes shut, running a finger over the long scar on your arm, a place that would otherwise be protected if not for them.<<else>>What would've happened if they didn't stab you? Would you have done it? Would you have succeeded in shifting? Or would you have simply killed everyone around you and torn yourself apart? Most likely both, you think, nails digging into your palms. You can't help but get the sinking feeling that you're //broken//.<</if>> Vethna sits down beside you, hands folded neatly in their lap, eyes glued to you. You feel hollow, like you're teetering on the edge of a cliff and waiting for one strong gust of wind to finally blow you over. "Are you okay?" Vethna asks. You force yourself to look at them. Attempt to ignore their bloodstained hands at the daggers that faintly glow still at their sides. *[['"No."'|C1_F1B_7C_A]] *[['"Yes."'|C1_F1B_7C_B]] *[[Stay silent.|C1_F1B_7C_C]] <<if $mc_h eq "river">>*[["I trusted you." ♥|C1_F1B_7C_D]]<<else>>[["What do you think?" ♥|C1_F1B_7C_E]]<</if>>

<<set $forgivec1_f to true>>You suck in a breath of air, trying to get your mind to stop spiraling long enough for you to find a single coherent question. Vethna sits, watching you patiently, //expectingly//. And then it comes to you, slowly, piecing itself together and falling onto your tongue. <<if $mc_h eq "river">>"Why didn't you just tell me what you were planning?" you ask. Vethna opens their mouth and closes it just as quick, as if they don't fully know either. "There wasn't much time," they say. //Hah. Right.// "Are you sure it's not because you knew I'd say no if I knew it was blood magic?" They don't respond.<<else>>"I'm going to guess that your teleporting stunt was the 'question of trust,'" you state. They nod. "Did it require you stabbing me?" "Not as badly as I did," they admit, twisting their hands together. "But I hadn't intended to do it so deep. I just... you..." They shake their head, taking in a breath to calm themself as they brush their hair back. "You didn't see how you looked." You bite down on your cheek. Wouldn't be the first time you've heard that.<</if>> You sigh, leaning against the tree you sit near. "Those daggers of yours. What are they? Arcane focuses?" Vethna bites their lip. "Is now really the time to be talking about this?" "I would love to know when you think would be a better time." Vethna stands up, walking around the clearing and looking up at the trees. The golden light of the sun illuminates them, and they remind you of a cat soaking up the sun... Or maybe they would, if they weren't so blatantly stalling. "Just... not now," they say noncomittally. They look at you from over their shoulder. "I'll tell you once we're not actively on the run from a pair of homicidal gorgons and magic-hunters." You know you're not going to get an answer out of them. If you press it they'll just twist your own words against you. They've done it before. They'll do it again. *[['"Alright."'|C1_F1B_D_A]] *[["Fine." Doesn't mean you have to be happy with their choice. Or quiet pestering them, for that matter.|C1_F1B_D_B]] *[["Are you sure I can't convince you?" you tease. ♥|C1_F1B_D_C]] *[[You're too distracted by how they look, breath catching in your throat. ♥|C1_F1B_D_D]]

<<set $forgivec1_f to true>>A laugh begins to bubble in your chest, and you snort, throwing a hand over your mouth in a half-assed effort to stifle your giggles. Vethna's brows furrow as you curl over, laughing harder and harder, body still sore from the fight before. <<if $mc_h eq "river">>You bite back a laugh as you hold up your forearm, looking at the scar that runs across it. Vethna practically sawed your entire arm in half. The sight of it just makes you laugh harder, slapping a hand to your face and dragging it downward. "$name?" They say your name cautiously, like you're about to break. Honestly, maybe you already //have.//. "Are you alright?" You look up at them from between your fingers, grinning. They shrink into themself. "Just //peachy.//" "I... I didn't mean to do it so deep," Vethna says, hugging themself. You shake your hand at them as if indicating it wasn't that big of a deal as you rise to your feet.<<else>> "You stabbed me," you laugh. "You just... you just stabbed me!" You drag your hands over your face before you rub your eyes, shaking your head back and forth before you hop onto your feet. "I mean... I kinda deserved it. Actually, I //really// deserved it." You begin pacing around, running a hand over your head. "Are you alright?" Vethna asks. You can still see flashes of their horrified face. You stop, suddenly, looking over your shoulder to stare at them, eyes wild. They shrink into themself. "Just //peachy.// "I... I didn't want to do it," Vethna says, hugging themself. You shake your hand at them as if indicating it wasn't that big of a deal.<</if>> "It's kinda funny," you say, another amused huff leaving you. "The whole thing is. Sad, too. Also a little embarrassing..." You shake your head before you smile again, pointing to a set of wagon tracks. "Look! We're not even lost. We can just follow those to a town and then... then go somewhere." One of Vethna's hands grabs your shoulders then, and when you turn to face them their eyes are filled with some kind of weary //pity.// "$name, I'm serious," they murmur. "Are you alright?" *[[Shove them off of you.|C1_F1B_E_A]] *[['"Get off of me."'|C1_F1B_E_B]] *[[Of course you're alright! You're... You're alright!|C1_F1B_E_C]] *[[You're actually fine... It was just kinda funny in a really fucked up way.|1_F1B_E_D]]

<<set $forgivec1_f to true>>"Are you alright?" you ask, looking over them. Vethna nearly chokes on their spit. "I—what?" they blurt. "I said are you okay?" They blink owlishly at you, head rearing back and brows furrowed. "Well, yes, but..." "Well, then. We're fine." Vethna's dumbstruck for several seconds, jaw hung open before they manage to pull themself together. "I stabbed //you,// $name. You're the one we need to worry about," they stress. They rise to stand, approaching you. "I get stabbed a lot," you dismiss. "What matters //now// is that we're both being hunted down. We need to figure out what the hell's happening and what our next move is—" "$name," Vethna interrupts you, brows furrowed. "Look, you're right, okay? And we will. But I'm serious. Are you alright? It... it was a bad wound." *[[You're fine. You have to be.|C1_F1B_F_A]] *[[You hate when people ask you that. It makes you feel like you're going to crumble.|C1_F1B_F_B]] *[[You really are fine. You weren't the Commander for no reason.|C1_F1B_F_C]]

<<set $forgivec1_f to true>>"Are you okay?" You ask. Vethna nearly chokes on their spit. "I—what?" they blurt. "I said are you okay?" They blink owlishly at you, head rearing back and brows furrowed. And then they're shaking their head, pinching their nose. "Let me get this straight," they say, "I //stabbed// you, and you're worried about //me?//" They look dumbfounded, their eyes flickering between yours like they'll find a sensical answer if they look for long enough. "//How// does that work?" they ask. *[["It's my job to protect you," you state. Feelings come second.|C1_F1B_GA]] *[['"I just want to make sure that you\'re alright."'|C1_F1B_GB]] *[[You want to say you care about them. Instead... "I care about your safety." ♥|C1_F1B_GC]]

<<if $mc_h eq "river">>"You..." You hold your forearm up, looking at the scar that runs along your forearm, jagged and rough. They practically sawed your arm in two. Theiir face pales just at the sight of it, a frown tugging at their lips. "I know," they say. "I... didn't mean to. I just... it..." they shake their head, squeezing their eyes shut. "It got out of control." "What did?" They hesitate to look at you. Instead they wrap their arms around themselves, brows furrowing as they shrug. "Everything." You sigh, rubbing a hand along your face.<<else>>"You... you //stabbed// me," you say, running a hand over your side. There's nothing but a phantom pain between your ribs as you examine the scar that sits there. Vethna swallows thickly. "I... I did," they say. "I didn't want to. I just... you were... we wouldn't have gotten out of there alive if I hadn't," Vethna says. They avert their gaze from you, wrapping their arms around themself. They're quiet. So, //so// quiet. "$name, you were out of control," they say finally. Their eyes squeeze shut as they swallow, shame written on their features. Your mouth goes dry. You want to argue. Want to say you were fine. But you weren't. You're //not,// You drop your head, sighing out your nose. "I know," you say finally. Your voice is hoarse. It catches in your throat.<</if>>You rub your hands together, thinking maybe, if you ignore the tension for long enough, it'll go away. You reach out to toucht he scar again, swallowing thickly. "Ideally," you say, "I wouldn't have had a blade lodged into me in the first place. But..." You can't get the words out. The words 'thank you' feel abhorrent on your tongue, even without you saying them out loud. Vethna won't even look in your direction. *[["It's okay," you say, glancing at them.|C1_F1B_7B_A]] *[[Change topics.|C1_F1B_7B_B]] *[[Check on them.|C1_F1B_7B_C]] *[[Check on them. ♥|C1_F1B_7B_E]]

"I was right not to trust you," you hiss. <<include "C1_F1B_7A_AB">>

"I shouldn't have trusted you," you hiss. <<include "C1_F1B_7A_AB">>

<<set $forgivec1_f to true>>You feel the undeniable urge to break something, to do irreparable damage. A part of you wants to hurt them, to make them cower from you with tears in their eyes. But you don't. Instead, you force yourself to take in a deep breath that you hold for a moment, blowing out from your mouth. You turn to look back at Vethna. They look like a terrified rabbit. Too frightened to run away. Or maybe just too good-hearted to run from their own actions. Your lips twitch into a frown at that, but you look away. "It's... it's fine," you say. Your words hold an undeniable bitterness to them. But it's to be expected, isn't it? You're doing your best. "... okay," Vethna says simply. The tension's there. The doubt. The worry. But you have bigger problems now than interpersonal conflict. "We need to figure out where we are," you say, turning to look around. "Get our bearings. And then we figure out where to go from there." "We should go to Davok." Your brows furrow at the suggestion. Davok's a small town up north. You've only been there a handful of times back in the day. It's remote, small, fucking //cold.// No one would want to be there in the winter. But you suppose that's what makes it such a good hiding spot. //Shit.// When did your life become so fucking bleak? "We're not completley lost, neither," Vethna says. You glance up at them, watching them as they rise to stand. Your eyes flicker to the dirt they stand over, glued to the wheel tracks in the earth. A merchant's route, perhaps, from how well-worn they are. Your eyes flicker to meet Vethna's. You say nothing. Don't have to. You both go to pack up your things, wordlessly following the direction of the wheels. <center>[[Continue.|C1_I]]</center>

Your shoulders heave with each heavy breath that leaves you. Your teeth are clenched, jaw aching, and you nearly throw Vethna to the side as you take a step back and away from them. //Blood-magic.// You're dealing with blood-magic. Who the hell even are they? Who the //hell// have you been protecting? They're silent as you stalk off, pacing restlessly. The moments pass you by as you try, and fail, to calm yourself. Your mind's a mess. Your //life's// a fucking mess. "$name..." //"What?"// you snap. You look at them from over your shoulder, and Vethna frowns before their eyes flicker downwards. "Are you..." they trail off, then shake their head. They suck in a steadying breath, wringing their hands together. "I... I don't know if it helps, but I don't think we're completely lost," they say. They point to the ground between you both. //Wagon tracks.// Finally. Some good news. You approach them, kneeling to the ground to look at them closer. "Maybe we can follow them to a town," Vethna suggests. "Figure out our location. Head to Davok." You shudder just hearing the name Davok. It's a small town up north. You've only been there a handful of times back in the day. It's remote, small, fucking //cold.// No one would want to be there in the winter. But you suppose that's what makes it such a good hiding spot. "Fuck me," you sigh. How did life get this fucking bleak? Your eyes flitter to meet Vethna's, and they roll their lips together before nodding. You say nothing. Don't have to. You both go to pack up your things, wordlessly following the direction of the wheels. <center>[[Continue.|C1_I]]</center>

<<set $forgivec1_f to true>><<set $vethna ++>>You're mad. Pissed. And yet, even through all that, you can't help but be worried for them. You want to shake Vethna like they're a ragdoll right now. But the thought of them being hurt... You step closer to them once more. They stiffen, shoulders tense as you grab them. "Did you get hurt?" you ask simply. They stare at you as if you've grown a second head. You're waiting for it. The biting, seething remark. It doesn't come. Instead they just shake their head, looking off to the side. "No," they say quietly. You examine the parts of them you can. Bruises, a few places of busted skin, but nothing terrible. You chew on your cheek before you step back and away from them, simply nodding your head once. You step away from then to take in a breath, eyes scanning the clearing. You notice it then, in the dirt. Wagon tracks. It seems Vethna has to as they come to stand beside you. "We can follow these to the nearest town," you say. "Head to Davok." You loathe the suggestion even as you say it. Davok is a small town up north. You've only been there a handful of times back in the day. It's remote, small, fucking //cold.// No one would want to be there in the winter. But you suppose that's what makes it such a good hiding spot. Oh, how bleak your life has gotten. Vethna sighs, but nods. It's not like you have many options, and wordlessly you pack what few belongings you still have before following in the direction of the tracks. <center>[[Continue.|C1_I]]</center>

<<set $forgivec1_f to true>><<set $vethna +3>><<set $vethna_r +2>> You want to shake Vethna like they're a ragdoll right now. But the thought of them being hurt... You step closer to them once more. They stiffen, shoulders tense as you grab them. "Did you get hurt?" you ask simply. They stare at you as if you've grown a second head. You're waiting for it. The biting, seething remark. It doesn't come. Instead they just shake their head, their eyes lingering on you as their brows furrow. "No," they say quietly. But it's not sufficient enough an answer for you. "Let me see." You step closer to them, Vethna's jaw stubbornly clenching. But they let you touch them, grabbing their arms, inspecting them. Your eyes catch on a scratch along their jaw, and without thinking, you reach out to caress it with your thumb. Their blood wipes away, smearing on bronze skin, and you see Vethna's throat bob before you pull away. Nothing bad. Just scratches and bruises. Your eyes meet theirs. You both stare at each other. For too long, maybe. And then you look away, brows furrowing until your eyes catch on something in the dirt. Wagon tracks. You approach them slowly, Vethna following up behind you. "We can follow these to the nearest town," you say. "Head to Davok." You loathe the suggestion even as you say it. Davok is a small town up north. You've only been there a handful of times back in the day. It's remote, small, fucking //cold.// No one would want to be there in the winter. But you suppose that's what makes it such a good hiding spot. Oh, how bleak your life has gotten. Vethna sighs, but nods. It's not like you have many options, and wordlessly you pack what few belongings you still have before following in the direction of the tracks. <center>[[Continue.|C1_I]]</center>

It's silent after that. Not //quiet,//, but silent. You can't tell if you regret what you've said or not, but you do feel your stomach drop from the weight of your own words. Neither of you speak for so long that your skin begins to crawl. You can hear Vethna's footsteps, leaves crunching beneath them, and when you turn to glance at their you see them sit down on a rock, their hands clasped on their lap. "We need to keep moving," they say simply. They avoid your gaze like it's the plague. "We can't afford to stop. Not now that you're being hunted down." You scowl, You want to argue, but for no good reason. You feel restless, and you pace around the woods as your hands bunch uselessly at your sides. "I don't understand it," you confess. "What in the hells would magic-hunters want with me?" Vethna stays silent. They don't have the answers. Why would they? "We should try Davok," Vethna says, voice quiet. A small town up north. You've only been there a handful of times back in the day. It's remote, small, fucking //cold.// No one would want to be there in the winter. But you suppose that's what makes it such a good hiding spot. "Fuck me," you snarl to yourself. How did life get this fucking bleak? "How are we supposed to get anywhere when //we// don't even know where we are? For all we know you shipped out asses down to Belleont." Vethna frowns, eyes narrowing. "I didn't send us away to //Pirate Isles,//" Vethna drawls. They throw their hands up then, gesturing around you both. "Do you see any fucking palm trees?" You don't respond. "We find a town. We're not as in the middle of nowhere as you might think." They pick up a rock. Throw it. You flinch like a child avoiding a sibling's swat, though they don't throw the rock //at you.// No, they throw it onto the ground instead, the pebble coming to a stop over some wagon tracks. You frown. You want them to be wrong. You want them to mess up. You want them to give you more excuses to be angry with them. Neither one of you say a word. You just gather your things and get up, wordlessly following the direction of the wheels. <center>[[Continue.|C1_I]]</center>

The demo ends here! In the following week Chapter One's unfinished choices along with the Ivante Twins POV scene will be updated and added to the demo. Any bugs and typos found can simply go in the Patreon chat on Discord, //or// you can simply add it into the comments of the Patreon post :) Thank you so much for waiting for the re-write. I would //strongly// suggest replaying and making new choices... this chapter is 95k words in total and very few of it is repetition now!

<<set $forgivec1_f to true>>You look at them. They shrink in on themself when you do. You can't afford this. The drama, the tension. You have two gorgons out there who want your head, and gods know the magic-hunters and bounties Vethna has on them. "It's okay," you say. The words come out before you can stop them. Vethna tenses for a moment before they look up at you. Their eyes flitter between yours. Their brows furrow. But then they just nod, sucking in a sharp breath and looking away. They know just as well as you that you can't just sit here, sulking and waiting around. "We need to figure out where the hell we go from here," you say, hands on your hips. "We could go to Davok," they suggest. You barely manage to not pull a face at the suggestion. It's a small town up north. You've only been there a handful of times back in the day. It's remote, small, fucking //cold.// No one would want to be there in the winter. But you suppose that's what makes it such a good hiding spot. "Alright. Okay, Davok," you say. "But how do we..." Your words die in your throat. Your eyes land on markings in the dirt, and you slowly walk towards them, Vethna following. //Wagon tracks.// Your eyes flicker to meet Vethna's. You say nothing. Don't have to. You both go to pack up your things, wordlessly following the direction of the wheels. <center>[[Continue.|C1_I]]</center>

You sigh, looking around the clearing. "We need to figure out where we go from here," you declare, standing up and dusting your hands off. You can feel Vethna's gaze burning through you as you look around the forest. "I'm thinking Davok. It's far, up north, but no one goes there. It's isolated. Should buy us time." You loathe the suggestion as you say it. But what choices do you have? Vethna stars at you, trying to read your face. But eventually they relent, simply nodding. "Alright." They rise to stand slowly as your eyes catch on something on the ground. Hope sparks in your chest. //Wagon tracks.// You slowly walk towards them, Vethna following. You drag your foot through them as if to make sure they're really there. Your eyes flicker to meet Vethna's. You say nothing. Don't have to. Despite the tension, you both go to pack up your things, wordlessly following the direction of the wheels. <center>[[Continue.|C1_I]]</center>

<<set $forgivec1_f to true>><<set $vethna ++>>You rise, approaching Vethna. They swallow thick, eyes glued to you as they stand. They stiffen when you grab them. "What are you—?" "Did you get hurt?" you ask. They stare at you as if you've grown a second head. You're waiting for it. The biting, judgmental remark. But it doesn't come. Instead they just shake their head, looking off to the side. "No," they say quietly. You examine the parts of them you can. Bruises, a few places of busted skin, but nothing terrible. You chew on your cheek before you step back and away from them, simply nodding your head once. You step away from then to take in a breath, eyes scanning the clearing. You notice it then, in the dirt. Wagon tracks. It seems Vethna has to as they come to stand beside you. "We can follow these to the nearest town," you say. "Head to Davok." You loathe the suggestion even as you say it. Davok is a small town up north. You've only been there a handful of times back in the day. It's remote, small, fucking //cold.// No one would want to be there in the winter. But you suppose that's what makes it such a good hiding spot. Oh, how bleak your life has gotten. Vethna sighs, but nods. It's not like you have many options, and wordlessly you pack what few belongings you still have before following in the direction of the tracks. <center>[[Continue.|C1_I]]</center>

<<set $forgivec1_f to true>><<set $vethna ++>><<set $vethna_r +2>>You rise, approaching Vethna. They swallow thick, eyes glued to you as they stand. They stiffen when you grab them. "What are you—?" "Did you get hurt?" you ask. They stare at you as if you've grown a second head. You're waiting for it. The biting, judgmental remark. But it doesn't come. Instead they just shake their head, their eyes lingering on you as their brows furrow. "No," they say quietly. But it's not sufficient enough an answer for you. "Let me see." You step closer to them, Vethna's jaw stubbornly clenching. But they let you touch them, grabbing their arms, inspecting them. Your eyes catch on a scratch along their jaw, and without thinking, you reach out to caress it with your thumb. Their blood wipes away, smearing on bronze skin, and you see Vethna's throat bob before you pull away. Nothing bad. Just scratches and bruises. Your eyes meet theirs. You both stare at each other. For too long, maybe. And then you look away, brows furrowing until your eyes catch on something in the dirt. Wagon tracks. You approach them slowly, Vethna following up behind you. "We can follow these to the nearest town," you say. "Head to Davok." You loathe the suggestion even as you say it. Davok is a small town up north. You've only been there a handful of times back in the day. It's remote, small, fucking //cold.// No one would want to be there in the winter. But you suppose that's what makes it such a good hiding spot. Oh, how bleak your life has gotten. Vethna sighs, but nods. It's not like you have many options, and wordlessly you pack what few belongings you still have before following in the direction of the tracks. <center>[[Continue.|C1_I]]</center>

<<set $vethna_r +2>>"I trusted you." You didn't mean the words to come out so heavy, but they did. Vethna's eyes widen, lips parting. Their gaze searches yours. But it's over in a flash, expression ridden with guilt as they look off to the side, clearly at a loss for words. The silence is thick. Suffocating. Neither of you know what to say, and yet neither one of you is willing to leave //this// where it is, unresolved. Vethna offers their hand to you. You eye it cautiously, and when you glance at their face, it's only to see them just as uncertain as you. Slowly, you place your hand in theirs. They turn your arm so your inner wrist faces them. A subtle grimace crosses their features when they see the scar, though they offer your hand a genlte squeeze before letting you go. It's a fleeting moment. Their fingers brush against yours hwen they pull away. The air is charged with something. But neither one of you address it as you both rise to stand, scanning the clearing of the forest. <<include "C1_F1B_7C_A2">>

"No." Vethna seems taken aback by the bluntness of it, but you're already standing before they can open their mouth to ask you anything else. You don't need their pity, and you're not quite sure you even want their empathy. Granted, that assumes they have any to offer. <<include "C1_F1B_7C_A2">>

"Yes." Vethna eyes you warily, not quite believing you, but you're already standing before they can open their mouth to ask you anything else. You refuse to be lectured by the person who quite literally stabbed you while your back was turned. <<include "C1_F1B_7C_A2">>

You simply stare at them before you're standing, Vethna's gaze falling from you in some odd mix of guilt and shame. You focus on your surroundings. Try to let the birdsong drown out the incessant buzzing of your head. <<include "C1_F1B_7C_A2">>

"There." You nod toward a pair of wagon tracks. "We can follow those to the nearest town to get a sense of where we're at." "And then what?" "We head to Davok. people up there stick to themselves and don't ask any questions. Might buy us enough time to figure out what we got ourselves into." You loathe the suggestion as you say it. It's a small town up north. You've only been there a handful of times back in the day. It's remote, small, fucking //cold.// No one would want to be there in the winter. But you suppose that's what makes it such a good hiding spot. Vethna pulls a face, but they relent. What other options do you have? "Alright," they murmur. Your eyes flicker to meet Vethna's. You say nothing. Don't have to. Despite the tension, you both go to pack up your things, wordlessly following the direction of the wheels. <center>[[Continue.|C1_I]]</center>

<<set $vethna_r +2>>"What do you think?" you say, voice low. Vethna's brows furrow, eyes averting yours as their hands disappear into the depths of their sleeves, toying with the fabric anxiously. The silence is thick. Suffocating. Neither of you know what to say, and yet neither one of you is willing to leave //this// where it is, unresolved. There's a pause before Vethna's hand reappears from the black, flowing fabric of the sleeve, extending it toward you. Their fingers curl, rings shining in the sunlight. You fingers curled and rings shining in the sunlight. You eye it wearily, looking at their face only to see they're just as unsure as you. You eye it cautiously, and when you glance at their face, it's only to see them just as uncertain as you. Slowly, you place your hand in theirs. They turn your arm so your inner wrist faces them. Vethna's gaze goes to your palm. Their figner traces one of the lines before they withdraw, as if stung, clearing their throat and tucking their hair behind their ear. "We should figure out what we're doing," Vethna says quietly, eying the clearing. You stare at them. The air is charged with something. But neither one of you address it as you both rise to stand. <<include "C1_F1B_7C_A2">>

You hold their gaze before you relent, standing up to join them in the clearing. You can see the relief in their posture as the tension leaves their shoulders. They nod at the ground. "Wagon tracks. We can follow them to a town." "Head to Davok afterward," you agree. <<include "C1_F1B_D_AB">>

"Fine," you say, cracking your neck as you rise to stand. You say it in just a vague enough tone for Vethna to whirl to face you, brows furrowing as they give you a suspicious look. "You're going to agree...just like that?" "Why wouldn't I?" They can't argue as you come to stand beside them, looking down at the pair of wagon tracks they stand by. "We should follow these to the nearest town," you state. "Then we can head to Davok." <<include "C1_F1B_D_AB">>

<<set $vethna_r +2>><<set $vfd ++>>Your lips curl upward in a coy smile. "Are you sure there's nothing I can do to convince you otherwise?" you ask. Vethna blinks. And then they scoff a laugh, smiling. "Cheeky," they retort. They cross their arms as they look at you, propping out a hip. You'd swear to the gods their cheeks are flushed pink. "Are you avoiding the question?" you ask, standing up. Their brows raise, and they seem to flounder the closer you get, shifting their weight from one foot to the other, the expanse of their long legs showing through the slits of their gown. Their smile widens, their brows furrow. You can tell they're trying to read you. When they fail, a nervous laugh escapes them. No. A //giggle.// "Is this a joke?" You stop a few feet away. You tilt your head, taking your //sweet//, sweet time in answerign just to watch them swallow thickly. "Do you want it to be one?" you ask. They stare at you, all wide-eyed and fronen. Their cocky demeanor is nowhere to be seen. No sass, no snark. You decide to back off, from the pure kindness of your heart of course, an amused quirk on your lips as Vethna presses a hand to their chest to try and calm down. You let them gather themself before you speak, nodding down at some wagon tracks on the ground. "Tracks. We can follow them to town. Head to Davok from there." Now that captures their attention. <<include "C1_F1B_D_AB">>

<<set vethna_r +2>><<set vfd -1>>For one, long moment, your brain is incapable of any and all thought. All you can focus on is the way the golden light reflects on their hair, the way shadows sprawl over their collarbone... //No,// No, no, no—you //cannot// be thinking of them like this. "Are you alright?" Vethna asks, //No,// "Yes," you say, rising to your feet. They look at you. You look at them. When did it become like this? When did you start to notice these things? The freckles on their face, the little furrow between their brows, the way their nose wrinkles in worry. They're //Vethna//. Snobby, stuck-up Vethna. And also very, very attractive. You've always known as much, but it's never affected //you.// Until now, it seems. It's the blood loss, right? Yes. Surely, it's the... Vethna laughs. No, they //giggle.// The corner of their eyes wrinkle as they cover the brightness of their smile with their hand. "What?" you breathe. They shake their head, their smile widening and softening all at once as they look at you. Their eyes are gentle as they tilt their head. "Nothing." Your cheeks burn as you clear your throat and look away. You run a hand over your head, turning your back to Vethna to try and ignore the way your skin tingles. Your eyes land on some wagon tracks. Suddenly, they are the most interesting thing to you as you nod your head towards them, Vethna approaching you to look at them. "We can follow these to town," you say. "Head to Davok from there." Now that captures their attention. <<include "C1_F1B_D_AB">>

They snap their head to look at you, nose scrunched. "Davok?" "It's out of the way and far up north. They don't ask questions or answer them. Seems like a good place to lay low and we try to figure out what we've gotten ourselves into." You loathe the suggestion as you say it. It's a small town up north. You've only been there a handful of times back in the day. It's remote, small, fucking //cold.// No one would want to be there in the winter. But you suppose that's what makes it such a good hiding spot. "Right..." Vethna toys with their necklace before they shrug. "No point in putting it off." Vethna pulls a face, but they relent. What other options do you have? Your eyes flicker to meet Vethna's. You say nothing. Don't have to. Despite the tension, you both go to pack up your things, wordlessly following the direction of the wheels. <center>[[Continue.|C1_I]]</center>

<<notify 5s>>Vethna didn't like that.<</notify>><<set $vethna -3>><<set $forgivec1_f to false>><<set $snap_f1 to true>>Your hands grab their wrists before you're shoving them away from you, the shift in your demeanor sudden. //Cold.// "Don't touch me," you snap. Vethna just glares at you. "Maybe don't act like a fucking //maniac//, then," Vethna growls.<<if $aggresion >= 5>> "No wonder everyone is so scared of you." <<if $opinion_p eq 2 or 4>>"Take that back." Your heart lurches, eyes filled with nothing but anger and anguish, but when you approach it becomes clearl they're not intimidated in the least. "You can't control yourself," Vethna states. You can't even argue with them, and all you can do is fume in silence as they step away from you, brushing their hair behind their ear. "We should head to Davok once we know where we are," they say. You bite back a cringe just hearing it's name. //Davok.// A small town up north. You've only been there a handful of times back in the day. It's remote, small, fucking //cold.// No one would want to be there in the winter. But you suppose that's what makes it such a good hiding spot. They don't even bother to wait for your opinion before they're already following the tracks. Your eyes narrow, glaring a hole into their back like it might do something to them. But it doesn't. And begrudingly, you follow after them.<<elseif $opinion_p eq 1>>"Is that what they are, //Vethna?// Scared of me?" You step closer, and you can see their confidence falter. "Maybe you should take a page out of their book. You would, if you're smart." "You can't control yourself," Vethna states. "I don't want to control myself." You both stare down at the other person, Vethna's jaw twitching. They cross their arms, look away from you, searching for the last thread of patience they have. "We should head to Davok once we know where we are," they say. You bite back a cringe just hearing it's name. //Davok.// A small town up north. You've only been there a handful of times back in the day. It's remote, small, fucking //cold.// No one would want to be there in the winter. But you suppose that's what makes it such a good hiding spot. They don't even bother to wait for your opinion before they're already following the tracks. Your eyes narrow, glaring a hole into their back like it might do something to them. But it doesn't. And begrudingly, you follow after them.<<else>>You just stare at them, clenching and unclenching your fists at your side. "We don't have time for this," you growl. "No, we never have enough time for //anything// according to you," they spit. "Do you care about anything?" "My job's to protect you, Vethna," you say, stepping closer. "Not to like you. Not to care about you, or //anyone// for that matter. I don't //care// what your feelings are. I don't //care// how you feel. And I sure as shit don't care what anyone else thinks of me." Vethna's glare could kill you. But you see something else in their gaze. Some distant sort of hurt they try to stifle. You sigh, stepping away to run a hand over your head. You just want this nightmare to //end.// "We should go to Davok," you mutter. "It's in the north and isolated. They're not nice but they don't go blabbering. It might be able to buy us some time to figure out what the hell is going on." You loathe the suggestion as you say it. It's a small town up north. You've only been there a handful of times back in the day. It's remote, small, fucking //cold.// No one would want to be there in the winter. But you suppose that's what makes it such a good hiding spot. Vethna pulls a face, but they relent. They don't say a word as they step past you, grabbing their things to follow after the tracks. You follow at a distance.<</if>><<else>> Their fierce expression falters however, and you watch as they wet their lips before speaking. "This isn't... damn it, $name. This isn't like you." You stare at them. And then you huff, turning your back to them as you kick a rock to keep yourself distracted. Bitterness stirs in your chest as you suck on your teeth. "It's not like you to stab me," you retort. Annoyance flashes across their features. They lift their head to look at you, mouth open to argue, but you cut them off. "We should go to Davok," you say. "It's in the north and far out of the way. Should buy us some time to figure out what the hell is happening." You loathe the suggestion as you say it. It's a small town up north. You've only been there a handful of times back in the day. It's remote, small, fucking //cold.// No one would want to be there in the winter. But you suppose that's what makes it such a good hiding spot. Vethna pulls a face, but they relent. "Fine," they utter. And like that, they're marching past you, collecting their things. You follow at a distance.<</if>> <center>[[Continue.|C1_I]]</center>

Your words come out cold, the shift in your demeanor sudden and biting. Vethna's eyes widen, but they do as you say, putting their hands up as if to placate you. "Okay," they murmur. They wait for you to calm down before they speak again. "I was just... I just wanted to make sure." "I'm fine." "I believe you." You hate how they say it. Like they're just trying to placate you. You clench your jaw, eyes focused on nothing as you stand in silence. You have to force yourself to snap out of it as you sigh, rubbing your face. "We should head to Davok. people up there stick to themselves and don't ask any questions. Might buy us enough time to figure out what we got ourselves into." You loathe the suggestion as you say it. It's a small town up north. You've only been there a handful of times back in the day. It's remote, small, fucking //cold.// No one would want to be there in the winter. But you suppose that's what makes it such a good hiding spot. Vethna pulls a face, but they relent. What other options do you have? "Alright," they murmur. Your eyes flicker to meet Vethna's. You say nothing. Don't have to. Despite the tension, you both go to pack up your things, wordlessly following the direction of the wheels. <center>[[Continue.|C1_I]]</center>

"I'm fine!" You laugh, shaking your head as if it's a ridiculous question. You put your hands on top of theirs to move them, and Vethna does nothing but watch you curiously. "Besides, it's my job to worry about you. Not the other way around." "I'm worrying about you because I //want// to," Vethna retorts, clearly not liking being told how to feel. You stare at them before you press your lips together and clear your throat, looking away. "We should head to Davok," you say after a long moment, desperate to change the topic. "people up there stick to themselves and don't ask any questions. Might buy us enough time to figure out what we got ourselves into." You loathe the suggestion as you say it. It's a small town up north. You've only been there a handful of times back in the day. It's remote, small, fucking //cold.// No one would want to be there in the winter. But you suppose that's what makes it such a good hiding spot. Vethna pulls a face, but they relent. What other options do you have? Your eyes flicker to meet Vethna's. You say nothing. Don't have to. Despite the tension, you both go to pack up your things, wordlessly following the direction of the wheels. <center>[[Continue.|C1_I]]</center>

"I'm fine, I'm fine," you say, shaking your head and trying to bite back a smile. "It's just... we are the exact kind of people this would happen to. 'Oh look! It's a storm! We can just settle down for the night, play some chess—oh, what's that? Two insane //mythosi// want to kill us? Oh? We're now //both// being hunted down? Hmm, well that sure is awkward.'" Vethna's hands slip from your shoulders as they look at you in disbelief. "How are you not more panicked right now? I //stabbed// you." "I don't know if you've noticed, Vethna, but I kinda get stabbed a lot," you say, walking toward the wagon tracks and kicking them. "This is all just very amusing in a very fucked up way, I suppose." "Right. It's all very hilarious," they deadpan, crossing their arms, hip jutted to the side. The corner of your lips curl upwards more. "Exactly! I'm so glad you agree." Vethna stares at you blankly. You think you can see their left eye twitching a bit as they press their lips together, posture so strained you think they might just explode where they stand. "We should head to Davok," you say after a long moment. "people up there stick to themselves and don't ask any questions. Might buy us enough time to figure out what we got ourselves into." You loathe the suggestion as you say it. It's a small town up north. You've only been there a handful of times back in the day. It's remote, small, fucking //cold.// No one would want to be there in the winter. But you suppose that's what makes it such a good hiding spot. Vethna pulls a face, but they relent. What other options do you have? Fine," they murmur. Neither of you say anything then. Don't have to. Despite the tension, you both go to pack up your things, wordlessly following the direction of the wheels. <center>[[Continue.|C1_I]]</center>

"I'm fine," you say. You attempt to ignore the tension that takes over your body, the way your teeth clench. Insetead, you suck in a deep breath. A feeble attempt to steady yourself. You're The //$title//, and a little stab wound and some gorgons aren't going to be the thing that shakes you. //Oh, face it. You're weak.// No. No, you're not. You're //fine//— "$name?" Vethna breathes. You shake your head. "I'm fine," you repeat. But you don't know if you're trying to reassure Vethna or yourself. "We should head to Davok," you say, quick to change the topic. You loathe the suggestion as you say it. It's a small town up north. You've only been there a handful of times back in the day. It's remote, small, fucking //cold.// No one would want to be there in the winter. But you suppose that's what makes it such a good hiding spot. "Davok?" Vethna repeats, nose scrunching. "There's nothing //in// Davok." You nod. That's exactly the point, and it seems Vethna realizes as much as they sigh, pinching their nose. "Fine," they sigh. They don't say a word as they step past you, grabbing their things to follow after the tracks. You follow at a distance. <center>[[Continue.|C1_I]]</center>

Your lips press together at the question. You hate being asked it. You've gone your entire life weathering what's thrown at you. //Surviving.// And yet, even to this day, there's a part of you that threatens to crumble when you're forced to face it like... like //this.// You look away from Vethna. Can't stand the weight behind their gaze as you swallow thick. You just nod. But you're not even sure if you believe yourself at this point. "I'm fine," you say. Vethna frowns. Their doubt is palpable. You can't stand it, this //pity// of theirs, and you're desperate to be rid of it. "We should head to Davok," you say abruptly. Vethna blinks, taken aback. It takes them a second to process what you said, and when they do, they frown. You loathe the suggestion as you say it. It's a small town up north. You've only been there a handful of times back in the day. It's remote, small, fucking //cold.// No one would want to be there in the winter. But you suppose that's what makes it such a good hiding spot. "Davok?" Vethna repeats, nose scrunching. "There's nothing //in// Davok." You nod. That's exactly the point, and it seems Vethna realizes as much as they sigh, pinching their nose. "Fine," they sigh. They don't say a word as they step past you, grabbing their things to follow after the tracks. You follow at a distance. <center>[[Continue.|C1_I]]</center>

"I'm fine," you say, rolling your shoulders back.<<if $mc_h eq "river">>The worst you feel is a cramp in your arm, but it's nothing compared to the rest of your scars.<<else>>The worst you feel is a dull pain in your ribs, but it's nothing compared to the rest of your scars.<</if>> "We have bigger things to be focusing on, anyway," you say. You narrow your eyes as you search the clearing, heart jumping when you see a pair of wagon tracks. "There." Vethna follows your gaze before they get up to look at them. "So we're //not// completely lost," they breathe. They let out a bitter, deprecating laugh then, shaking their head. "Does that even count as good news at this point?" "We can follow these to the nearest town." You wet your lips. "Head to Davok from there." Vethna pulls a face. You don't blame them. You loathe the suggestion as you say it. It's a small town up north. You've only been there a handful of times back in the day. It's remote, small, fucking //cold.// No one would want to be there in the winter. But you suppose that's what makes it such a good hiding spot. "Davok?" Vethna repeats, nose scrunching. "There's nothing //in// Davok." You nod. That's exactly the point, and it seems Vethna realizes as much as they sigh, pinching their nose. "Fine," they sigh. They don't say a word as they step past you, grabbing their things to follow after the tracks. You follow at a distance. <center>[[Continue.|C1_I]]</center>

"We can orient ourselves. Go to Davok." Vethna pulls a face, and you don't blame them. You loathe the suggestion as you say it. It's a small town up north. You've only been there a handful of times back in the day. It's remote, small, fucking //cold.// No one would want to be there in the winter. But you suppose that's what makes it such a good hiding spot. "Davok?" Vethna repeats, nose scrunching. "There's nothing //in// Davok." You nod. That's exactly the point, and it seems Vethna realizes as much as they sigh, pinching their nose. "Fine," they sigh. They don't say a word as they step past you. You both gather the few things you still have before setting off, hobbling to follow the tracks. <center>[[Continue.|C1_I]]</center>

<<notify 5s>><<set $mc_h to "perfect">>You won the fight again the gorgon twins.<</notify>>The man's grip on you suddenly goes slack. He releases you, and you stumble backwards, a pair of hands gripping you to steady you. //Vethna.// You struggle to reel in your senses. The man lays on the floor now, unconscious, dark teal blood seeping from a large blunt force blow to the head. Vethna holds a candelabra in their hand, his blood dripping from it— ...//shit.// The woman's eyes widen as she looks at her brother on the ground. And then her eyes flash to you, wide, hateful. Maybe even a bit fearful. She's on her own now, and Vethna looks just as ready to bash her skull in next. It's two against one. She reminds you of a feral dog in the way she attacks you still. Tries to cut you with one hand, the other lifting to block Vethna when they go to hit her. She catches the candelabra when they swing it, ripping it from their grasp to throw across the room. No matter. The distraction allows you an opening to hit her in the throat. //Hard.// It's over. Just like that. Her eyes widen. Her lips part, she chokes and gasps, but can't get a breath in. You watch as she slowly sinks to her knees, suffocating on nothing. It's in the gods hands now, as far as you're concerned. "We need to leave," you state simply, eyes going to meet Vethna's. You wonder if you look half as wild as they do right now. You can hear the villagers footsteps coming up the steps, the raucousness of your fight not going unnoticed. They hate you enough as is, but if they walk in on //this,// you won't be surpised if they drive you out with pitck forks. Vethna doesn't protest, steadying themself as you go to look out the window of the room. The streets are completely flooded, but it's not like you have much of a choice. "Come on," you breathe. "We go out the window. They're not crazy enough to follow us out there." "What?" Vethna snips, brows furrowing. Their lips part to argue before they shake their head. You watch them fumble to reach for a dagger beneath the skirt of their dress, your frown deepening as precious time ticks, ticks, //ticks// away— And then they're dipping the edge in the growing puddle of teal blood beneath the man's head. The blood sucks it up as if hungry, your eyes widening, and you're not even given the chance to properly react before Vethna's reaching out, grabbing your arm. You feel their magic before you see it. Overwhelming, heady like incense, expanding and collapsing into itself in a fog of purple mist that consumes everything in the room, everything in your vision. You feel like you're falling, or flying, or maybe both, and then you're just... <center>[[Gone.|C1_F1_A]]</center>

<<set $aggressive ++>>"Fuckin' bastard," you snarl the second you see the wound. Your head falls back onto the dirt, your eyes focusing on the leaves above you as you try to quell your temper. You can't believe you'd been so //stupid.// You're rusty, and you know it. And now you don't have your muted //mythosi// blood to blame. It's been too long since you've had to fight. //Really// fight. Even with Vethna, you've yet to face another Vygrander, nonetheless magic-hunters. And the assassins, or bounty hunters, or //whatever// in the hells those gorgons were... Well. The were an anomaly. "Stay still," Vethna murmurs. "I think... I think I can heal it." You haven't gotten injured much with Vethna. Certainly not enough to warrant //healing// before. It makes you pause, propping yourself up on your elbows to eye them warily. "You //think//?" you mutter. They give you an exasperated look, though you see the traces of something else there. Guilt? It only makes your scowl deepen. <center>[[Continue.|C1_F1A_2_2]]</center>

<<set $sarcasm ++>>"This is the part where you tell me it's not that bad," you joke, propping yourself up on your elbows. It hurts, but it's nothing new. You're used to your body being torn apart and put back together again. Vethna's brows furrow at your comment, clearly not finding the humor in them. "Oh, come on. I'm fine," You murmur, rolling your eyes as you wiggle your fingers then immediately grimace. "Okay. No. Nevermind. Gods, that fucking hurt." Vethna glares at you, but you can see them trying not to snort out in amusement at your detriment. Instead they pull your hand back towards them. You haven't gotten hurt much in the course of being with Vethna. You've yet to face a Vygrander, nonetheless magic-hunters. And the assassins, or bounty hunters, or //whatever// in the hells those gorgons were... Well. The were an anomaly. "No, I can... I think I should be able to heal it," Vethna murmurs. "Just stay... still." "It's just a hand," you protest. "How hard can it be?" They give you a look. It makes your stomach wobble. "Very." <center>[[Continue.|C1_F1A_2_2]]</center>

<<set $stoic ++>>"I'm fine," you mutter, clasping your hand in your other like that'll help any. Vethna gives you an unimpressed look, lips pressing together. It's obvious they don't believe you, and you don't blame them. Your fingers have gone numb now, tingling to the point you can't bend them. They give you that gods-awful chastising look of yours, like you're a petty child, their left eye twitching a bit. "$name." They say you're name like that alone should have you bending to their will. "Look at yourself," they drawl, "you couldn't even hold a knife if you wanted to." "I've been through worse." You regret your words the second you say them. The weight behind them, although unintentional, is a heavy one. Sure, you've been through worse. //Much// worse. But that was back when you were strong. Powerful. Capable of it all. Now? You're a wash up, and you're more likely to drop dead from infection than succumbing to wounds. You avoid looking at Vethna. You don't want to face their pitying stare. Instead, you simply stick your leg out once more, ignoring Vethna as their gentle hands peel the fabric of your pants up higher to access the gory cut. "Just... stay still," they murmur. You nod. Barely. <center>[[Continue.|C1_F1A_2_2]]</center>

<<set $genuine ++>>Your eyes flicker between your wound and Vethna's features. You'd think someone born and raised in Vygrand would be used to the sight of gore, nonetheless one as high-ranking as Vethna undoubtedly must be. Blood magic is their life and blood in that cursed capital. Surely they've seen //worse.// "Stay still," Vethna murmurs. "I think... I think I can heal it." You haven't gotten injured much with Vethna. Certainly not enough to warrant //healing// before. It makes you pause, propping yourself up on your elbows to eye them warily. "You //think//?" you mutter. They glance at you from the corner of their gaze, a mixture of exasperation and guilt playing on their features. Gods forbid you be worried about them mangling your hand even more. <center>[[Continue.|C1_F1A_2]]</center>

They pull your hand into them. They softly coax your fingers to spread open further, and you suck in a sharp breath at the feeling, brows furrowing as Vethna murmurs out a quiet apology. They twist your hand this way and that way, examining the damage before they clasp your hand between theirs. You feel the coolness of their hands, the hard ridges of their rings against your fingers. Your blood makes your palms stick together as they shut their eyes, face one of concentration. They murmur. Words you can't understand, half-guttural and utterly incomphrensible. //Mavikras.// The ancient language. The daggers at their sides glow, and you watch as the remaining blood in them is greedily sucked up by the blades. You feel a cool, mist-like sensation along your skin. The throbbing sting of the cut fades away, turning into a numb, tingling feeling... and slowly, Vethna's hands pull away. Their palms are covered in blood, but the cut in your hand has been reduced to a scar, thin, silvery flesh cutting across the lines of your palm. "Shit," you breathe, sitting up. You find it ironic. Them using your blood to heal you. But you can't object to it's effectiveness, sitting up to run a finger over the injury. Your eyes flitter to look at Vethna. Their own gaze is downcast, refusing to meet your own as they swallow thick. You know what they're dreading. Your lecture. Your disproval. Healing you or not, they still used forbidden magic. <<include "C1_F1AC_1">>

Your teeth grit together as you suck in a sharp breath. There's a sharp, pulsing pain in your hand, your fingers going numb, and in spite of your stubborness, you draw your hand closer to inspect. It shouldn't be that bad. So //why// does it hurt like it does? You can barely even move your hand now, and you're painfully aware of how useless you are like this. "$name—" "Fuck," you mutter. You can feel Vethna's god-awful puppy eyes on you, all wide and waiting for you to forgive them. For you to let them //help// you. If you were anywhere else but //here// you would refuse them. Alas, being lost in the middle of the woods hardly grants you the stubborness of being able to refuse self-care. You won't get anywhere limping off through the wilderness. Your eyes meet Vethna's. Their eyes flicker between yours, and it's with a begrudging nod of your head that they scoot closer, hands slowly reaching out to peel the fabric of your pants up higher. "Just... stay still," they murmur. Obviously. The hells are you going to do? You couldn't even flip them off if you wanted to. <center>[[Continue.|C1_F1A_2_2]]</center>

"It's my job to protect you," you state. Vethna makes an odd face, averting their gaze from you. "I hurt you," they protest, almost sounding ashamed to admit it. "That's of no consequence." "But I—" They stop themself short, their head hanging as they try to get a reign on their emotions again. "Alright. Fine," they sigh, throwing their hands up in pseudo-surrender. "I'm fine." "No injuries?" "None," they say, exasperation in their voice. You eye them warily before you just nod, moving away from them to survey your surroundings. You're alone, this far out, but your eyes catch on something beneath the leaves that cover the dirt ground. Wagon tracks. "Look," you murmur. You both approach them, Vethna putting their hands on their hips. "So we're not completely lost," they muse, almost self-deprecating. "We follow these," you say. "Orient ourselves. We can head to Davok from the nearest town." <<include "C1_F1_G2">>

"I just want to make sure you're alright," you say. "I was barely touched," Vethna dismisses. "//You//, on the other hand,<<if $mc_h eq "river">> almost died from blood loss." They frown then, brows furrowing before they avert their gaze.<<else>> almost tore your own body apart trying to shift. What in the hells were you thinking?" You scowl at their words, looking away stubbornly. You don't say a word, though you do let your eyes wander to where Vethna stabbed you. Your shirt is still torn, stained with blood. They frown.<</if>> "How do you feel?" Vethna asks. "I just asked you that." They scoff, rolling their eyes. Their lips press together stubbornly before they manage to speak. "I'm fine." "Well, I am, too," you declare, standing up. They watch you, curiously as you begin to survey what's around you both. You're alone, this far out, but your eyes catch on something beneath the leaves that cover the dirt ground. Wagon tracks. "Look," you murmur. You both approach them, Vethna putting their hands on their hips. "So we're not completely lost," they muse, almost self-deprecating. "We follow these," you say. "Orient ourselves. We can head to Davok from the nearest town." <<include "C1_F1_G2">>

<<set $vethna_r ++>>"I..." you trail off, barely stopping yourself from saying something stupid. Sappy. "I care about your safety." Vethna crosses their arms, raising a brow at you. "I should certainly hope so. You're my guard." "That's not what I..." you trail off, words tone bordering on frustration. You sigh, jaw clenching before you look away. Your skin burns from the feeling of Vethna's ever-watchful gaze on you. "I'm fine," Vethna says finally, saving you from yourself. "Are you?" You're quiet. You swallow thickly, wetting your mouth before you manage to nod. You can feel their scrutiny lingering on you, but you dismiss it, flustered enough as is. Instead, you turn to survey your surroundings, trying to ignore the way Vethna's very presence makes your skin tingle. You're alone, this far out, but your eyes catch on something beneath the leaves that cover the dirt ground. Wagon tracks. "Look," you murmur. You both approach them, Vethna putting their hands on their hips. "So we're not completely lost," they muse, almost self-deprecating. "We follow these," you say. "Orient ourselves. We can head to Davok from the nearest town." <<include "C1_F1_G2">>

Vethna pulls a face. You don't blame them. You loathe the suggestion as you say it. It's a small town up north. You've only been there a handful of times back in the day. It's remote, small, fucking //cold.// No one would want to be there in the winter. But you suppose that's what makes it such a good hiding spot. "Davok?" Vethna repeats, nose scrunching. "There's nothing //in// Davok." You nod. That's exactly the point, and it seems Vethna realizes as much as they sigh, pinching their nose. "Fine," they sigh. They don't say a word as they step past you, grabbing their things to follow after the tracks. You follow at a distance. <center>[[Continue.|C1_I]]</center>

<<if $height eq "very tall">>You're taller than him. Bigger. You suck in a steadying breath, trying to keep yourself as still as possible to not give away what it is you're about to do. "You know, I've come a long way to wrangle your ass—" You interrupt the man by slamming your elbow back as hard as possible into his side. It makes him grimace, giving you just enough of an opening to grip the hand that holds the blade and //wrench// it to the side. It forces him to drop the weapon as you whirl around to face him, nailing him right in the face when he lunges to hiss at you. It's enough to daze him as you wrestle him to the floor, your form looming over his. *[[Kill him.|C1_41A_4AA]] *[[Injure him so he can't follow.|C1_41A_4AB]] *[[Threaten him to stay.|C1_41A_4AC]]<<elseif $height eq "tall">><<if $beast eq "wolf">>You're nearly the same height as him, but more than that, you're //stronger,// You suck in a steadying breath, trying to keep yourself as still as possible to not give away what it is you're about to do. "You know, I've come a long way to wrangle your ass—" You interrupt the man by slamming your elbow back as hard as possible into his side. It makes him grimace, giving you just enough of an opening to grip the hand that holds the blade and //wrench// it to the side. It forces him to drop the weapon as you whirl around to face him, nailing him right in the face when he lunges to hiss at you. It's enough to daze him as you wrestle him to the floor, your form looming over his. *[[Kill him.|C1_41A_4AA]] *[[Injure him so he can't follow.|C1_41A_4AB]] *[[Threaten him to stay.|C1_41A_4AC]]<<else>>You're nearly the same height as him, which gives you a fighting chance... even as you feel the muscles of his body keeping you in place. You suck in a steadying breath, trying to keep yourself as still as possible to not give away what it is you're about to do. "You know, I've come a long way to wrangle your ass—" You interrupt the man by slamming your elbow back as hard as possible into his side. It makes him grimace, giving you an opening to wriggle free. You manage to succeed, slipping from his grip—but you don't even get the chance to turn around before he's gripping you by the arm and yanking you right back into him. "Slippery little fuck, ain't ya?" he seethes. You growl, going to spit in his face, thought he man slaps you before you can, a laugh escaping him. "Kinky," he coos. "I like it." //Oh, for fuck's sake.// You writhe and wrestle against him before your eyes lock into the open window he crawled into. It's a terrible idea, really. But it's better than nothing. You feign struggle, doing your best to aim your fight towards the window with every shove and kick... And finally, you reach it. <center>[[Continue.|C1_41A_4AD]]</center><</if>><<else>><<if $beast eq "wolf">>You're shorter than the man by a lot, but your strength compensates for it. Somewhat. At least, you home it does. You suck in a steadying breath, trying to keep yourself as still as possible to not give away what it is you're about to do. "You know, I've come a long way to wrangle your ass—" You interrupt the man by slamming your elbow back as hard as possible into his side. It makes him grimace, giving you an opening to wriggle free. You manage to succeed, slipping from his grip—but you don't even get the chance to turn around before he's gripping you by the arm and yanking you right back into him. "Slippery little fuck, ain't ya?" he seethes. You growl, going to spit in his face, thought he man slaps you before you can, a laugh escaping him. "Kinky," he coos. "I like it." //Oh, for fuck's sake.// You writhe and wrestle against him before your eyes lock into the open window he crawled into. It's a terrible idea, really. But it's better than nothing. You feign struggle, doing your best to aim your fight towards the window with every shove and kick... And finally, you reach it. <center>[[Continue.|C1_41A_4AD]]</center><<else>>You're shorter than the man by a lot, and you're left struggling uselessly in his grasp. You try to wriggle free, but you get nowhere. His grip on you is strong, leaving you trapped as you feel his blade cut your flesh, blood dripping down your throat. He laughs, clicking his tongue. "Wriggly little thing, ain't ya?" A snarl leaves your lips, and without warning, your rear your head back. Your skull hits his chin, a //'thunk'// coming from the impact. It hurts, makes your head ache—but it does make the man fumble enough for you to scramble free, turning on your spinning on your ankles to face him. Your eyes widen. You're about to attack, but Vethna's beaten you to the punch, slamming a candelabra into the back of the man's head as hard as they can. "Fuckin'—" the words die in your throat as the man stills for a moment... and then slowly collapses to the ground unconcious, eyes rolling back. You stare at him, at the teal blood that seeps from his skull before going to look at Vethna as they drop their makeshift weapon. Their face is pale, and they look like they're going to be sick as they grimace and look away. <center>[[Continue.|C1_F1_4AE]]</center><</if>><</if>>

Jost breaks in as Vethna tries to escape. Link to being captured.

<<set $mc_h to "threatened">>"Listen, asshole," you put your foot to his chest, keeping him on the ground. "I don't have time to waste. So I //very// strong recommend sitting your ass here and staying put." He doesn't listen. Keeps writhing beneath you. You don't know why he even bothers. It's obvious you have the upper hand as he writhes, and you take the chance to dig your heel deeper into gut just to watch him squirm. "I //said// stay put," you snarl. "Or what?" he asks, grinning. His fang catches on his lip, and you find yourself scoffing. <<if $beast eq "gorgon">><<set $nikke_h2 to "out">>Your lips peel back as you let out a rattling hiss in his face. Nikke just laughs in response. "You think that scares me?" he asks, hissing right back at you before clamping his teeth shut in a snarling bite. You rear back, disgust painting your features. You should know by now not to play nice. You're only response is to throw him back to the ground, jumping to your feet to slam your foot //hard// down on his skull. He's out in an instant.<<elseif $beast eq "wolf">>You peel back your teeth to bare your fangs, a //deep// rumbling growl stirring in your chest. You unleash it as a snarl in the man's face, drool threatening to drip from your maw as gnash your teeth inches from his face. He scowls, lips pulling into a frown as he eyes your teeth warily. "Ya know," you growl, "I could just eat ya up whole right here." Your claws dig into the wooden floor until it splinters. It's a threat, and yet just //speaking// the words aloud awaken some awful, terrible, //hungry// part of you. "Never tasted //snake// before." You can see his face go white. He goes to glare at you only to be met by a feral, animalistic gaze... and it's only then that he concedes. His hands lift in surrender as you release him, watching his chest heave with his panicked breaths. Still. There's a look in his eyes. Dark, vengeful. He knows when he's been beat, but this isn't over. Not by a longshot.<<elseif $beast eq "phoenix">>You slam your hand down beside his face in frustration, the veins beneath your skin glowing a bright and vibrant orange. You don't mean to, but a burst of flames erupts from your palm and climbs up your forearm before dissipating, nearly searing the gorgon's face off in the process. He lets out a laugh. "Someone can't keep themselves under control." "You think that's funny?" You hiss. Your vision goes red, and suddenly you are met with the pained screams of your enemies... of your //friends//, fighting desperately in your grasp as you burn through their skin. "Me?" he repeats, smiling. "Oh, I think it's //hilarious.//" Fine. The snake wants to play? You'll play. Your hand reaches out for him, flames licking your fingertips. Your pupils are pinpricks and some part of you is so undeniably //manic// that nothing in this moment feels real now. "Do you know what burning flesh smells like?" you ask. "Do you know how it melts? How it sticks to my palms if I touch it? Like goopy tar." You reach for his face, and his hand braces against your chest to try to keep you at bay. It's a fruitless task. You simply opt to grab his wrist instead. A pained growl escapes him immediately. Everyone's reaction is the same. Eyes widening, fear painting their features. You are an extension of nature. Of wrath. Of chaos. You are //undeniable.// And he knows as much. You haven't even held his wrist for a full five seconds before he's kicking you off of him as hard as he can— "fine!" he blurts. He falls back against the ground, going to touch the wound on his arm before realizing he //can't,// the skin inflamed and raw. "Fine," he breathes, his eyes meeting yours. His chest heaves with his breaths, and he eyes you in a different light. Like you're a threat. A real one. Gods. A part of you //missed// being feared. Still. There's a look in his eyes. Dark, vengeful. He knows when he's been beat, but this isn't over. Not by a longshot.<<else>>You glare at the man. He wants to play? Fine. But he can't say you didn't warn him. You focus on the constant murmuring whispers that you often keep at bay, jeering and cruel, accompanied by sadistic laugher. //Imps// and lesser demons. You feel the ghost of a hand wrap around your neck, freezing and rough. It tightens around you in a way you cannot tell is meant to be loving or cruel, a honeyed voice singing to you the fears, the //weaknesses// of this gorgon before you. Your eyes gleam the second they're done. You know his secrets, or at least a valuable one, and lean in closer to the man. His face is pale. He must've heard it, too. The cacophonous whispers. But to him, they're no more than eldritch murmurings. "You don't think I know where you're from?" You ask, a clawed hand digging into the wooden floor. "You don't think I'll hunt down your clan and kill every single one of them? Cut them from navel to neck?" You purr out the words as a sultry promise, your gaze boring through him. Ire flares up within him. Fear. //Dread.// You've beaten him. He's useless to protect his family from you. You rise to stand, already knowing you've won. "You're lying," he breathes. His voice is guttural. Tight. "Am I? Wanna make a bet on it?" You extend your hand to him, his eyes flittering to it in distaste before he swallows thick. He doesn't reply. Just looks off to the side instead. "Smart choice."<</if>> <center>[[Continue.|C1_41A_4AC2]]</center>

<<set $mc_h to "injure">>You stomp down hard on the man's shoulder. A sickening burst of self-satisfaction fills you when you hear the //pop// of his shoulder snapping out of place. He hisses in pain, and you throw in an extra kick to his side for good-measure, watching him try to not roll into a little ball. "Fuck you!" he snarls, glowering. You scoff. He's a //mythosi.// He'll be back on his feet in no time. "//$name!"// Vethna's voice snaps you out of it. Their hands are wrangling your shoulders, tugging you back. "We need to go, //now!//" You meet their wide-eyed gaze. Your breathing is ragged, and you're vaguely aware of the door almost being kicked off its hinges. Everything happens quick. Vethna unsheathes the ornamental daggers strapped to their thighs. They look at the man on the ground, rolling their lips together with a look of doubt, hesitation crossing their features. And then they're stalking towards him. The man's eyes narrows at them, and you watch as Vethna unsheathes one of the ornamental daggers strapped to their thigh, under their dress. He snarls. "The fuck are you—?" The man's cut short when Vethna abruptly slices him across the forearm. Teal blood seeps from his arm, the blade drinking up the liquid, storing it in a hollowed out gem in the hilt that starts to glow. Blood magic. "What the //hells// are you doing?" you breathe. Your hair stands on end, bile stirring in your gut. Vethna looks at you. "This," they breathe, holding up the blade. "This is how we get out of here." You don't get the chance to protest. Don't even get the chance to suck in a full breath before they're reaching out, clasping your hand in theirs tight. You feel their magic before you see it. Overwhelming, heady like incense, expanding and collapsing into itself in a fog of purple mist that consumes everything in the room, everything in your vision. You feel like you're falling, or flying, or maybe both, and then you're just... <center>[[Gone.|C1_F1_A]]</center><

<<set $mc_h to "kill">>His gaze hardens as he looks at you, watching as you grab his own dagger off the ground and hold it high above your head. Your eyes narrow as you struggle to keep his wrists pinned down. He's stronger than you were willing to give him credit for. You slam the dagger down only to miss when he lurches, burrying it in the wooden floor. Your hand goes to your thigh, blindly fumbling to pull out another... And this time, you nail it right in his gut. The man sucks in a haggard breath. The blade cuts through skin, sinking in several inches deep before he shudders. You pull it out, stab //again//, and //again//, and //''again''//— //You killed your own men just like this, didn't you? Why stab once when you can turn flesh into mincemeat. Bodies are just big sacks of meat and bones—// A distressed sound bubbles up in your throat. His blood coats your hands. But he's still there, gasping, choking, //writhing.// Hard-to-kill son of a bitch— "//$name!"// Vethna's scream snaps you out of it. Their hands are wrangling your shoulders, tugging you back. "We need to go, //now!//" Fear is laced in their voice as you snap out of your stupor. You're covered in teal blood, the man beneath you half-unconscious, eyes threatening to roll back as his lashes flutter. Your breathing is ragged, and you're vaguely aware of the door almost being kicked off its hinges. Everything happens quick. Vethna unsheathes the ornamental daggers strapped to their thighs, dragging it through the teal blood puddle on the ground. Your eyes meet the woman's on the other side of the door as it finally breaks in. And then her eyes widen at the gory sight, a loud "no!" leaving her lips before Vethna grips your arm. She runs towards you, but it's too late. You feel Vethna's magic before you see it. Overwhelming, heady like incense, expanding and collapsing into itself in a fog of purple mist that consumes everything in the room, everything in your vision. You feel like you're falling, or flying, or maybe both, and then you're just... <center>[[Gone.|C1_F1_A]]</center>

You rear back from the man, eyes narrowing on the lopsided, borderline feral grin he offers. And then you charge. Your arms wrap around his waist, and you can feel him trip backwards, a furious curse escaping him as he realizes what you've done. He sucks in a sharp breath, and you narrowly miss smacking your head on the window sill before you're both falling. Your stomach plummets. You both clutch at each other, claws tearing at flesh as the man blindly hisses and bites, and soon you're both plunging into freezing water. You feel the air stolen from you, and it takes //everything// in you to not immediately breathe in, fumbling blindly for the surface. The water is filthy, so cold it burns your eyes, and when you surface you gasp for air. Not a second later, you feel a clawed hand //ripping// at your leg, threatening to yank you underwater. Okay. Maybe not the smartest idea. <<if $beast eq "gorgon">>Gorgons are great fighters in water. And you? Your blood's a little //stale// to have the same advantage.<<else>>Gorgons are great fighters in the water. You? Not so much.<</if>> You suck in a sharp breath before letting yourself be pulled under. You fumble, hand going to grip your dagger and rip it free. Your other hand searches in the water, blindly managing to grip a fistul of hair. You use it to pull the man closer, and it seems you both have the same idea—you blindly stab at the water until you hit something, red blossoming in the water—and the man sinks his teeth //deep// into your thigh after clawing at your boots. You feel the burn of his venom a second later. <center>[[Continue.|C1_41A_D2]]</center>

<<set $mc_h to "2v1">>"We don't have time for this," you breathe. You can hear the woman threatening to kick down the door. "We need to get out of here." Vethna says nothing, instead swallowing thickly, pressing a hand over their mouth. They nod in agreement however. You try to figure out the best course of action, pacing about the room. Do you just stay here? Do you try to get on the roof? It's slippery, though. You don't think Vethna would be able to keep their balance, neither— Vethna marches past you then, their brows furrowed, going right to the man on the ground. They unsheathe a blade from their side before dragging it through the puddle of blood the man's headwound left on the ground. Blood magic. "What the //hells// are you doing?" you breathe. Your hair stands on end, bile stirring in your gut. Vethna looks at you. "This," they breathe, holding up the blade. "This is how we get out of here." You don't get the chance to protest. Don't even get the chance to suck in a full breath before they're reaching out, clasping your hand in theirs tight. You feel their magic before you see it. Overwhelming, heady like incense, expanding and collapsing into itself in a fog of purple mist that consumes everything in the room, everything in your vision. You feel like you're falling, or flying, or maybe both, and then you're just... <center>[[Gone.|C1_F1_A]]</center>

You bite back the growl of pain. Instead, you use it as a target, slamming your knife toward where you feel her biting. Your dagger hits //something,// and soon she's releasing you, leaving you both to flounder. You resurface, coughing and sputtering. You struggle to keep a grip on your knife with how hard you're shivering, your eyes scanning the tumultuous surface of the makeshift river. The water bubbles before the gorgon rises, slowly. Her glowing eyes peer at you over the water, pupils slits, her dark hair sticking to her scaled skin. The streets were more flooded than you had anticipated, the raging "river" going all the way up to your waist, threatening to knock you off balance at any given moment. "You're a bold little shit, you know that?" she breathes. Her expression is dark, stoic, her left eye twitching with some barely-concealed rage. She wades through the water, stalking closer to you, black kohl running down the woman's face in dark streaks. "You're //really// starting to piss me the fuck off." You throw your sword at her. She dodges it gracefully, turning her head to look at where it harmlessly splashes inside her. She smiles then, clicking her tongue, running a forked tongue along her sharpened fangs. "Tsk. Bad Commander," she scolds. She moves quick. Manages to dodge the punch you throw at her face, gripping you by the shoulde to spin you around so your back is pressed against her chest. Her arm wraps around your neck, muscled arms tight around your neck. You can feel her face press against yours, her lips by your ear, the coldness of her breath making you shiver in disgust. "If you have any ounce of intelligence in you, you'd give up now," she breathes. "You and I both know your glory days are behind you." ... //are they?// Her grip tightens and you let out a gasp, your hands grabbing onto her arms as your claws dig into flesh and rip. The primitive whispers of your blood sing to you, telling you to just //kill her// already. Your elbow swings back into the gorgon's side. She lets go, cursing, and you... *[[want to kill her. Do as your instincts say and end this.|C1_N2_2BB2]] *[[want to injure her so she can't follow us. Your brain hisses in discontent at the idea.|C1_N2_2BB2]]

<<set $mc_h to "drowned">>She must see the switch in your demeanor since her own gaze hardens. You grab onto the gorgon's arm, <<if $beast eq "wolf">>your strength easily outmatching hers, gripping so tightly that her bone might as well just //snap.//<<else>>strength matching her.<</if>> She struggles to rip herself from your grasp, but it's too late. Your dagger comes down onto her shoulder, dark teal blood seeping from the open wound and staining the water around you. The smell of iron sets your senses alight in the best of ways, a shiver wracking down your spine. "$name!" You don't look immediately, knowing //damn// well how hard it is to get a //mythosi// to stay down. It isn't until the gorgon lets out a hiss of pain, falling onto her knees as you struggle to push and keep her beneath the water that you look up. Vethna watches you, a strange look in their eyes. "We've got to go! //Now!"// "Just let me—" Before you can finish your sentence Vethna jumps out the window, magic slowing their descent until they're beside you, gaze flickering to where you're attempting to drown the gorgon. "We don't have time for this," they spit, gripping onto a broken wagon to keep their balance in the currents. You reach out to steady them. They let you, surprisingly, their hand going to fumble at their side before they pull out an ornamental daggers from beneath the skirt of their dress. Your brows furrow. "What are you doing with that?" "//This,//" they stress, "is our way out of here." They don't elaborate. Instead, you watch as Vethna presses their lips together. You see it, just barely. The blade's hilt is filled with a dark teal, sickly liquid. //Gorgon blood.// Their hand reaches out, grabbing your wrist. You feel their magic before you see it. Overwhelming, heady like incense, expanding and collapsing into itself in a fog of purple mist that consumes everything in the room, everything in your vision. You feel like you're falling, or flying, or maybe both, and then you're just... <center>[[Gone.|C1_F1_A]]</center>

The glory of your success doesn't last for long. The hinges of the door break open, the woman bursting in. She looks identical to the man on the ground, so much so you have little hesitation in declaring them siblings. //Twins.// Her eyes widen as they land on her brother on the floor... and then they snap to look at you. She looks rabid, teeth bared and clenched... and then she sets her sights on Vethna. They go tense. And just like that the tension snaps. She rushes towards them, you rush to stop her—but she beats you to it. She grabs Vethna by the harm, ensnaring them in her grasp as she twists their forearm behind them. They grimace in pain, expression crumpling as their brows furrow, eyes squeezing shut. Your eyes flicker to the dagger the woman presses against the bronze flesh of Vethna's neck. You swallow thick. *[[Grab the man. Threaten to slit his throat unless Vethna's released.|C1_N2_2A]] *[[Charge and tackle the woman.|C1_N2_2B]]

You both rise to stand. Vethna rolls their ankles several times, only managing to fully get to their feet when you all but haul them upwards. You're both quiet. Sullen. You got out unscathed, but without half your supplies, without your damn horses. You're on your own now, and on foot. "We could be in the middle of nowhere," Vethna says. Their voice holds something bitter, a sort of contempt they aim towards themself. You shake your head, however. "No. Look." You nod towards the leaf-covered ground, walking over to kick some away. There, in the dirt, are wagon tracks. Well-worn. A trader's route. "We can't be too far from some sort of town. We'll follow them. Go from there." "With gorgons after you? And magic-hunters after me?" You ignore Vethna's complaints. Nothing's changed. Not really. You've been on the run this entire time regardless. It just seems the true risks of the situation have dawned upon you both. Vethna especially. <center>[[Continue.|C1_F1D_3]]</center>

Vethna's eyes glow faintly in the darkness. Sweat's dabbled near their temple, the makeup around their eyes completley smeared. You see sheer relief cross their features when you meet their stare, but it's quickly replaced by a frantic urgency as they shift closer to you slowly, pressing their side against you. Their head vaguely nods downwards, to their legs, and you bow your head to look. It takes you several seconds to realize what it is they're referencing to. Just barely peeking out from the thigh-high slits of their dress do you spy the scabbard of a dagger. You just nod, the plan clicking in your head as you subtly shift, trying to angle your hands to be able to fumble with the blade. It's hard, not being able to see what you're doing, but eventually you manage to slip the blade free, angling it upright to saw at Vethna's bindings. You go slow, careful to not draw attention, and the second their ropes are loose they're taking the dagger from you. They cut you loose. And then, not a second later, they're gripping your forearm and tugging it close. You watch as they cut across your forearm, blood blossoming from the wound only for the dagger to immediately drink it up, the hollowed-out gems in the hilt filling with your blood before glowing. You blink before it hits you. //Blood magic.// The twins both turn to look at you at the same time. Their eyes widen, and they both scramble to race towards you. "No!" the woman screams. Her voice is hoarse, angered, panicked. The man practically lunges to try and grab ahold of you. But it's futile. You feel Vethna's magic before you see it. Overwhelming, heady like incense, expanding and collapsing into itself in a fog of purple mist that consumes everything in the room, everything in your vision. You feel like you're falling, or flying, or maybe both, and then you're just... <center>[[Gone.|C1_F1_A]]</center>